#njadaka fanfiction

[black-panther-incorrect]

T'Challa: It's illegal to wear your tits out in the throne room.

T'Challa: I'm looking at you N'Jadaka.

#tchalla #njadaka #black panther humor #black panther memes #black panther #black panther fanfiction #black panther incorrect

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 4, Chapter 62″

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

"Ha, I am a fighter and a lover I'm the freaky baby daddy, I'm a bad motherfucker I'm the earth, wind, fire, and the thunder I said I am, go ask my mother You don't believe that shit believe what you want to Alright, ok, so, shut-up! Speak language come straight from the gutter Observe the terms that we trade with one and other Like, what's good, what's popping, what's cracking What it is, how you living, what's happening Work songs that the slaves sang back then The playground chants, with little girls clapping

Blackjack Johnson NYC, R-O-C-K-I-N-G Son and the moon, earths, stars, and planets Before the song done y'all gonna all understand it…"

Mos Def – "Ghetto Rock"

King N'Jadaka left Shuri's lab early enough to take a shower and grab a quick breakfast in his new king's suite inside the palace. The two-story home hadn't been used in over three hundred years when Queen Shuriyah occupied it with her large family. Every space inside the immense dwelling smelled ancient and expectant, like it was waiting for someone like him to inhabit the grand luxury all around him.

Before the sun rose to herald a new day, the king of Wakanda walked around admiring antique furniture that had been around since his ancestors toiled in cotton, tobacco, and indigo fields of the southern American states. While his maternal forebears suffered the ravages of shackles, lynchings, rapes, and being sold downriver, his paternal blood lounged on exquisite fixtures surrounded by enchanting art and creative wall installations that portrayed historical scenes of Wakanda's past glory. He made a mental note to have some things removed and stored away safely because he knew his children would be too tempted to play with heirlooms that could never be replaced if broken or stained with fresh jelly fingers or sticky fruit candies. The British museum he robbed before Riki was born would give millions just for the few small panther statuettes and warrior shields hanging in his new bedroom. He calculated that the living room alone was worth over twenty million.

N'Jadaka chose the space for his new home because it separated him far enough away from the lower levels to feel isolated in the palace. Neither T'Chaka nor T'Challa ever occupied it, preferring the smaller, single-floor homes closer to the throne room. He had three children, and the way his mother let slip some information on the ancestral plane, N'Jadaka thought it would be prudent to have a bigger space for whatever children were coming in the future. Unlike the other living quarters that had the pizzazz of a swanky post-modern bachelor pad, the queen's former home carried the air of domestic tranquility for children, a more appropriate place to care for his brood of busybodies.

Lieutenant Ayo waited for him outside his suite to escort him to the Council of Elders for their first meeting with him as king. Noxolo and another Dora, Aneka, guarded his private living space.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Noxolo said with pride in her voice.

"My king," Aneka said with captivating eyes, observing him.

"Good morning. I won't be back here until later this evening," he said.

They both nodded.

He walked away and adjusted the dark royal robes that had been waiting for him in the new suite. They were very similar to the dark robes he wore the first time he was king. The gold necklace housing his golden jaguar suit rested on his chest, gleaming as bright as the gold slugs on his top and bottom teeth. The Onyx Squad, another elite military unit that worked for the royals and backed up the Dora Milaje, stood at the ready when N'Jadaka stepped out of the elevator. Four of them flanked his sides for extra protection, their services requested by N'Jadaka and procured by T'Challa as he prepared the palace for the new normal. He knew what was coming Wakanda's way and the country would have to get in line with the increased security. Their obsidian helmets, curved like the shape of a gazelle's horns, gave the Onyx Squad an intimidating appearance, especially with the lower part of their faces covered by a dark face mask that matched the color of their suits.

T'Challa met him at the entrance of the throne room with Ramonda. He gripped hands with his cousin and they bumped shoulders with sincere affection. Ramonda stood with a strictly business expression.

"Ready for your first day, N'Jadaka?" Ramonda asked.

"I got you here with me, Auntie," N'Jadaka said.

Ramonda's lips quirked up and her eyes shined with amusement.

"Well then, let us go inside, nephew," she said, rubbing his back.

The Council of Elders rose with M'Baku entrenched in the fold near Zinzi. General Okoye stood with her spear in her hand next to M'Baku. N'Jadaka took a deep breath and walked into the room with a languid pace to his seat. No one sat down until he did. Settled and eager to hear what he had to say, everyone there looked nervous. He glanced at T'Challa who sat directly to his right with Ramonda sitting to his left. T'Challa nodded at him with encouragement.

"In two days, I will meet with Wakandans who I will reeducate about geopolitics, the American military-industrial complex, and neo-imperialism in the west. I have sent you all the names of the participants as promised. I've also invited you all to attend the plenary session of that meeting. This transition team will then be prepared to join my African diaspora invited delegates for a three-week long conference to create the United Diaspora Consortium that I want to be put in place next year," N'Jadaka said.

"Can you create something of that size in three weeks?" M'Kathu asked.

"The best and brightest in the diaspora are coming. These are people who work in the trenches. If more time is needed to hammer some things out, we will extend the time here," N'Jadaka said.

He leaned forward to ease the elders carrying tension in their shoulders and tapped his kimoyo, tossing up the breakdown of the three-week schedule.

"Their first three days will be touring Wakanda so they can see with their own eyes what we represent. You are our elders who will welcome home the lost tribe," N'Jadaka said.

He stood up and walked around the large image of the schedule.

"They will need time to process the mind-blowing beauty and pride of the Wakandan people. You are the only nation full of Black people we have ever seen in complete control of your destiny. Wakandans bypassed the Maafa, colonialism, and neo-colonialism. This may bring up resentment, grief, jealousy, anger, and hurt. They have endured so much and to see a place like this… heaven on earth… it may be a tough pill to swallow. Your comfort for hundreds of years is a lot to take. We'll have to answer their questions. 'Why did you forsake us?' 'How come you couldn't share your technology and strength to aid us in our darkest days?' 'Why should we trust you to reach out to us now?' They have every right to feel a way about that."

N'Jadaka stood near Zinzi. The others kept passive faces, but Zinzi lowered her head as if to think of answers to the questions presented.

"My mother left my father in a rage when she found out about you. Ran away clear across the country to hide me from him. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't bring me here… the son of a prince, the fourth heir to the throne. I watched her scream at my father on the night she learned the truth about Wakanda. The pain in her eyes… the feeling of abandonment and betrayal. The world could've been different had we stepped in as a force of good against a cruel world that used us as chattel slaves. Millions died in the ocean who didn't even make it to land of any kind. Millions more were harshly broken down into servitude in the Caribbean to be eventually dragged off to North America… Europe… the global south. My cousin Marisol comes from the largest population of African descendants outside the continent. So many enslaved Africans died from the brutality of the conditions they found themselves in so far away from home. Their lost tribe children are going to come here, look us in the eyes and say 'Where were you when the Maafa happened?' What will we say? 'Sorry, not our problem?' We all know that's the truth. Wakanda didn't give a damn about other foreign Africans suffering. It's why my father never told you about me, because he knew his people didn't care."

N'Jadaka took a moment to walk over to the window. He looked out over Birnin Zana and the mighty river that flowed through it.

"I can't lie to you. I get it now," N'Jadaka said.

He turned back to the elders and his two family members.

"My children thrive here. My oldest daughter is trying to learn several languages at once and wants to be a linguist when she grows up. My son raises panthers and baby elephants and talks all about caring for exotic wild animals and getting others off the endangered species list in other countries. My baby girl grows plants and designs elaborate little mini cities cultivating a balance of protecting humans and nature… keeping them in harmony. They have the best education, the best health care, and the best lives to be productive, happy people when they grow up… and I swear to God, I would protect that peace with my life right now just because they are Wakandans too. But we have more than enough to turn other lives around and make ways for other children like mine to have beautiful futures like the ones you've created for your citizens. I know this nation isn't perfect, but it is the best one on the planet. Will we be the leaders the lost tribe needs, and own up to our choices? Or will we allow America and her allies to dictate how the world will run now that they know we exist?"

N'Jadaka let his words weigh heavy on their minds. Swiping through the schedule glowing brightly in the middle of the room, he pointed out further schedule breakdowns, meeting topics, and a quick overview of the members of the transition team. They took a ten-minute restroom break after three hours, a chance to stretch their legs before he tossed up a briefing that he wrote the night before, concerning Asgard.

"I have more to share with you and it doesn't leave this room. Nick Fury informed me we have an extraterrestrial menace possibly coming to earth."

The elders became agitated and worry stretched across their faces.

"Shuri is crunching data from our probes and I will update us with more information from the survivors once they have been processed. Norway is taking them in as refugees," N'Jadaka said.

N'Jadaka shared images that Fury sent that morning of the survivors. The Asgardians were shell-shocked. They carried the haunted look that N'Jadaka recognized from his days of blowing up small villages and towns searching for insurgents.

T'Challa took over speaking. He discussed new security measures and evacuation worst-case scenarios. Underground bunkers were reviewed and M'Baku jumped into the conversation with backup plans into the mountains of the Jabari lands if they were needed. N'Jadaka requested joint training with the Jabari warriors and the Wakandan military. He brought the closing back around to the transition team meeting and the upcoming UDC gathering.

"The rollout of the UDC will be gradual and low-key. We are focusing on the grassroots because they know the needs of their people in their various countries," N'Jadaka said.

"Thousands of outsiders coming within our borders makes me very uncomfortable," Bhira said.

"The west will be at your gates sooner than you think. I want our people out there prepared to lead their own communities that will back us up. My Aunt Lia believed that the oppressed know what they need to make their people flourish. Resources given to and controlled by Black women will pay off in the long run for everyone," N'Jadaka said.

"We believe in equality of all the people in Wakanda," Efetobo said.

N'Jadaka pointed to the giant windows.

"The people outside of our borders do not. Patriarchy and imperialism go hand in hand… right along with keeping women in their place. Black men out there are just as trash as the white men who oppress them. The biggest threat outside of white systemic racism is our own men murdering and terrorizing Black women and children in their communities that have no access to resources and serious protection. Anything we put together with the consortium will be biased toward Black women in leadership positions. Black women are the key to everything, and the weapons we entrust with our War Dogs will protect and take out any threat to them. We will not save everyone because too many Black people in the diaspora are too far gone lusting after proximity to whiteness, or turning against Black women and leaving their children to fend for themselves. All skinfolk ain't kinfolk and we will root out those who hold the others back," N'Jadaka said.

Zinzi looked at the other elders who were uncomfortable with the idea.

"King N'Jadaka does present something that we have never had to take into consideration for a long time. The power dynamics here are not the same as those out there. However, I will bring forth our history in the past when we too had to learn how to overcome the prejudice of men who thought like the sexist men in the outside world. There was a reason we had several queens ruling the nation after Queen Shuriyah passed. They knew how to get things done and raised up sons in a culture of seeing women as equals. It took generations in our own land before we ever let a man rule again," Zinzi said.

N'Jadaka centered their attention back on him as he sat back on the throne.

"In your diaspora delegate packets, you will find the complete, vetted bios and resumes of the people coming here. The group is sixty percent women. I have also invited delegates from several Indigenous nations throughout Canada, North America, and South America. We will be packed and it will be challenging work. As your king, I ask that you be open to these people. We are creating ways for them to be self-sufficient and capable of pushing back on all the harm that has come to them and prevented them from flourishing," N'Jadaka said.

"What if they come to our country, see what we have, and want to stay here? We are not set up for refugees and people crossing our borders to illegally immigrate as they do in your birth country," M'Kathu said.

"People leave their homes when they are desperate. We share resources to uplift them and once they are self-sufficient, protected, and able to live comfortable lives, there is no need to leave for anywhere else. Wakanda will have global allies," N'Jadaka said.

"What if their local governments resist our efforts? Prevent us from coming into their countries with our resources, or try to steal them from us?" Efetobo asked.

N'Jadaka snapped his fingers and the Onyx Squad stepped forward. The Dora Milaje high above them pounded their spears into the pillars.

"We take them out… quietly," N'Jadaka said.

"Will we do the same to local Black leaders who want to use our gifts to benefit themselves… misuse or mishandle the resources we give them?" Zinzi asked.

"This is the reason I'm bringing in the grassroots experts. They will steer us away from charlatans and sell-outs. Plus, knowing the most powerful nation in the world will hold them accountable if they squander or do their people wrong will deter a lot of tricksters," N'Jadaka said.

"Hence the need for grassroots Black women leaders, no elites in power," T'Challa said.

"Trust me, those types of elite Black leaders will fall all over themselves to be chosen as the guardians of the Wakandan wealth brigade." He leaned back. "Nothing like this has ever been done before. We'll have some bumps in the road and may even have to recalibrate if there are problems. The fact that the world knows about us is a detriment because we have to move more covertly. Our only saving grace is that no one gives a damn about poor Black people, so we'll be able to fly under the radar for a couple of years as we take root. We'll use the Outreach Centers as a ruse to be in the countries we go into. Americans love heart-warming poor people stories to make them feel good. We keep their attention on those public places, and then we can move where we really want to be," N'Jadaka said.

"Are we not asking for western aggression overtly? They will view our presence as a quiet invasion. This can turn against us, make other countries come here," M'Kathu said.

"In the next decade, the west will make permanent incursions back into Africa the way China does now. Asian nations are already buying up land and preparing to siphon resources away from the continent as neo-colonizers, and the west will want to dominate that action again. Timber, oil, cobalt, uranium, diamonds, platinum… the continent's riches have always benefited non-African nations. What do other African leaders do? Nothing. Tribalism, brutal wars, and taking on the worst behaviors of their former colonizers have been the way since Africans fought for their own independence from Europe. The outside counts on us to fail so they can move in and bring fake democracy and phony stability. It's all a cover to root themselves here and take what they want all over again. And we let them," N'Jadaka said.

A male guard protecting the outside came in with a woman, Gabisile, attached to the palace's PR team.

"King N'Jadaka, we are ready for you at the time you requested," Gabisile said.

Big-boned and serious about her work, Gabisile held a stylus pen and her comm tab, ready for action. N'Jadaka stood up, and the others did too.

"When you have your private meeting, please consider what I have said," N'Jadaka said. "Queen Mother, I want you to be in on this with me," N'Jadaka said.

Ramonda pulled her shoulders back and looked at her son first before stepping next to her nephew. T'Challa grinned. N'Jadaka wanted his aunt to understand her value to him in front of the elders. Their first interaction hadn't been the best in that same room, but he paid respect to her seniority in the family with her expertise in foreign affairs. He was about to inform the world that there was a new king in Wakanda. She could point out the roaches versus the snakes. Roaches were useless, but if there were a few snakes he could use in other foreign governments, he wanted her to point them out from jump. The U.N. was meeting in Geneva at the end of the year. N'Jadaka bet that the C.I.A. would target them somehow for something egregious. He needed to know how to read the room and Ramonda had been to enough international galas with T'Chaka to have an insider scoop through the wives. She had been wise counsel for T'Chaka and T'Challa, and he wanted that wisdom, too. Despite her upstanding reputation and regal bearing, Ramonda was and would always be a warrior and a fierce protector of Wakanda.

"That went well," Ramonda told him as they walked with T'Challa out of the throne room.

"I hope so," N'Jadaka said.

They trekked to the West Palace instead of being carted there. He wanted the palace staff to see him moving among them. He stopped to check in with his press secretary and the man with that title was shocked to see N'Jadaka coming to him first. Many people did a double take when they glimpsed the Onyx Squad with the Dora Milaje. Gabisile guided them toward a large hall that seated one hundred members of the Wakandan central governing body. W'Kabi sat in the front row and pretended to ignore Okoye walking past him to position herself behind a podium. N'Jadaka stepped into view and everyone stood up. He directed them all to sit as he took a seat at a curved table next to the podium. T'Challa and Ramonda sat next to him as they powered comm tabs up and a map of the country projected behind them all. N'Jadaka noticed Shuri waiting in the wings to give a briefing on the Asgardians and the extraterrestrial threat. He checked his kimoyo beads. His children would be brought to his office after the next two section meetings. After that, he was going to take a tour of the housing that the diaspora delegates would stay in, and then he had to be in the media room to practice a state of the nation address. He would have dinner with his entire family before seeing his grandparents off as they returned to the Jabari mountains, satisfied that the family was all together at last.

N'Jadaka buckled down into his role as the preeminent world leader.

King N'Jadaka ate a messy plate of grilled meat and vegetables. His children sat around him on his office floor as they ate their food from a low round table and cushioned stools set up in front of his desk. Sydette pushed back her bowl of seasoned rice and marinated pork bites.

"Baba, can we stay in the palace longer with you? School is out and we have a long break," Sydette said.

"Please?" Riki added.

Joba wiggled on her stool, her eyes pleading for him to say yes.

"Mama has to work, and we'll be with our nanny all the time. I want to be here," Sydette said.

"My mommy is here and she can take care of us while Umi Yani works," Joba said.

"Grandpop is here too, so we can be with him, and I promise we won't wear him out a lot," Sydette said.

N'Jadaka grinned and licked his fingers of rice and sauce.

"Your Mama wants you home when she gets home," he said.

"We can just fly home at night… Baba… puh-lease!" Sydette begged.

She held her clasped hands up to her chin and batted her enormous eyes that matched her mother's.

"I'll talk to her about maybe staying a few days during the week," he said.

"Thank you!" Riki shouted.

His son ran around the table, hugged him, then darted for the door.

"Where are you going?" N'Jadaka asked.

Riki turned around.

"Mpilo has a game I wahn play on his computer!" Riki said.

Joba hopped out of her seat and dashed after her brother.

"You two get enough to eat?" he asked.

They shook their heads and bolted from the room.

"You don't want to play it too?" he asked Sydette.

"I want to stay here with you so we can have a chat."

"A chat, huh?"

He stuffed his mouth with his last piece of chicken and wiped his lower lip.

Sydette stepped away from her stool and crawled onto his lap. She touched his nose ring, then kissed his cheek.

"I'm proud of you," she said.

The maturity in her voice and the serious expression on her face reminded him more of how much she had grown in Wakanda. Her island accent was fading, and she sounded more like a native Wakandan every day with her growing vocabulary.

Kora, Riki and Sydette's nanny, stuck her head in the partially open door.

"Your Highness, I am here to take the children for their nap," Kora said.

N'Jadaka checked his kimoyo and stood.

"I have to go on the tour," he said.

"Can I come with you? I don't want to take a nap," Sydette asked.

"Well, if you come, then Riki and Joba will want to go too—"

"No! Just you and me, Baba."

N'Jadaka nodded.

"Kora, take Riki and Joba to their Grandpop. I'll be back with Sydette before dinner."

Kora hesitated.

"I'll take it up with Yani. Don't worry," he said.

Kora backed out of the room, and Sydette's smile beamed back at him. It was probably a good idea to have one-on-one time with Sweet Pea. He was so accustomed to herding them all together everywhere that he never once thought to cordon off time for individual activities away from the others. Waiting in his office for an expected whining fest from the other two in protest, he was pleasantly surprised that there was no blowback. He stepped out, holding Sydette's hand. Mpilo straightened up his desk and shut down the computer graphics the children had played with.

"How were they acting when they left?" N'Jadaka asked.

"Sleepy," Mpilo said.

"No fussing when they noticed Sydette wasn't with them?"

"No."

"Cool. Ready to leave?"

Mpilo moved over to them and they all strolled into the outer floor plan where Tlotliso worked at her desk and his new assistant press secretary, Pheijna, met with his media team and Gabisile's team.

"Off to take the tour and I'll be back to do a run-through before dinner," N'Jadaka said to Pheijna.

Taking in all the people working for him now would be an adjustment. Spending years working covertly to accomplish anything had been easy. Having thousands of moving parts to look after in the palace reminded him to stay focused. He would run them the way he ran his military unit in the Navy Seals and as a mercenary. As the head honcho, he had to set the standard of expectations and hold everyone's feet to the fire to make sure his goals flowed smoothly. To his relief, the Wakandans at his beck and call were all professional and took the king's word as law. To them, he was an Udaku. He may have come from the outside, but he was Prince N'Jobu's son. Wakandan royal blood ran through his veins.

Gabisile attached herself to their large group, and they met with his security team in the hall.

Sydette watched every move he made and looked at all the people he had power over to do his bidding. She clung to his hand tighter, and no one questioned him about her joining his tour team. They were driven in a convoy to what N'Jadaka named the Homecoming Village twenty minutes away from the palace. It was a luxury hotel that had been transformed into a Lost Tribe oasis with amazing cottages that faced the river and the wide expanse of land that housed elephants, giraffes, zebras, and other wildlife the visitors would wake up and see every morning. There were lush gardens and ancient trees that outsiders had never seen the likes of before. The roofs of the detached cottages reminded him of curved acorn tops, and different sections had different animal themes to match the herds that roamed freely throughout the property. In the middle of the hotel was an open coffee shop and snack bar where elephants traveled through, so they wouldn't have to walk miles around the river to get to their grazing areas. Sydette squealed when an impressive mother elephant and her young charge cruised through the shop right in front of them. She clapped her hands and then her mouth fell open when a giraffe stuck its head through a window opening to see what little person made all the exciting noise. He wished Riki and Joba could've witnessed it too, but there was something special about having the experience with his oldest girl by herself. It would be something she would always remember about their day together.

N'Jadaka was pleased that the visitors would all have a magnificent view of the palace in the distance. He wanted them to see that a man from their ranks ruled from there, so anything was possible if they united.

"You like it, Sweet Pea?" he asked his daughter.

Sydette glanced around at the various cottages as they walked through a gorgeous garden pavilion.

"It's so pretty!" Sydette said.

"You think our guests will like it?"

She nodded enthusiastically, and he lifted her up in his arms as they studied the movement of a curious peacock that strutted its way to investigate all the newcomers. The media team took pictures of N'Jadaka there, and in other places they explored.

"It's peaceful here," he said.

"Look Baba!"

They gazed at zebras running down a slope of land, kicking up dust. A few giraffes chewed on leaves from the tall trees nearby, unimpressed by the activity of their animal neighbors.

They toured the interior of a cottage and admired the amenities outside with a grand view of the grasslands below. Soon, they moved inside the larger structure of the five-story hotel itself, which had several restaurants and a club inside. He met and spoke with the hotel staff who were all excited to see him in person as they prepped the property. N'Jadaka stressed the importance of what this meant for the people coming to Africa for the first time. Sydette leaned into him as the gravity of his work sank into her understanding. Swinging his hand as they walked together surrounded by his team, Sydette gazed at him.

"Baba… you are like the Baba for everybody now," Sydette said.

"A king has to think that way sometimes," he said.

"I think the visiting people will be so happy to be here," she said.

"I hope so."

"I love it and I know they will love it too."

"What's your favorite part of Wakanda, Sweet Pea?"

"Being here with you," she said.

He squeezed her hand a little more and guided her toward their transport vehicle. Sydette fell asleep on the way back. He carried her to his grandfather's suite to join the other children who were already up and running around playing. Placing Sydette on a guest bed, he stroked her braids and kissed her forehead.

"See you at dinner, Sweet Pea," he whispered to her before leaving the room.

Riki and Joba took turns stepping on his feet and trying to get him to walk them around the living room, but he had to do a run-through of his speech back in the media room.

"You have a break at all today?" Dante asked.

N'Jadaka patted his grandfather's shoulder.

"I'll rest later."

"Don't burn yourself out. Delegate, JaJa."

He left for his office and ran into Remy in a busy hallway.

"King N'Jadaka," Remy said, averting his eyes.

"Remy."

"I look forward to your address to the nation tonight," Remy said.

N'Jadaka regarded the man with disdain, but he kept it in check, walking past Remy with a brisk stride into the media room. He took a sip of water from a bottle Mpilo carried for him and listened to Gabisile and the man responsible for handling his teleprompter. The segment director busied himself with the recording team and after a quick fifteen-minute briefing, N'Jadaka stepped behind the podium and did two run-throughs of his speech.

Gabisile gave him some pointers on where to emphasize words and corrected some pronunciations of his Wakandan. The Panther Tribe had a southern Wakanda dialect and N'Jadaka tried to fudge over parts because he didn't want to mess up. Sections of his speech he'd have to say in English with closed captioning for citizens. Mpilo stood behind the floor director and gave a thumbs-up with a cheerful grin. Gabisile approached him after his second run-through.

"King N'Jadaka, we need you to smile more. This is a very important speech, your first to our people, and it will set the tone for your reign. Your face… it is so serious-looking. We know you want to present yourself as an influential leader, but a pleasant facial expression goes a long way," she said.

"I'm trying not to feel tense."

"If you feel your body growing tense as you speak, grip the edges of the podium. It gives off confidence and allows that tension to flow into the podium and not your words. I love how you speak as if you are talking to your family. Flow into that more. Your daughter said it best. You are the father of the nation. Tell us what we need to know under your rule, as if you were talking to your children. You were gentle and confident in the presence of little Sydette. Treat your speech that way, too."

"I want to do it one more time," N'Jadaka said.

"Your Highness, it is time for your dinner," Mpilo said.

"Eat, take a little time to relax and we will be ready for you here," Gabisile said.

He exited the media room with Mpilo.

"Go home and be with your family. You've been working hard all day," N'Jadaka said.

"Oh, no… I want to be here and watch your speech in person," Mpilo said. "I'm going to eat with some staff in the banquet hall and I will meet you back in the media room."

"Bet."

He released the Onyx Squad for the evening and walked with Okoye and Ayo.

"Honest opinion, General Okoye. What do you think of me so far?" he asked.

"I underestimated your leadership potential. You seem more than prepared for your new role, Your Highness," Okoye said.

"My father was an excellent teacher. I want to walk in his footsteps," he said.

"My king, if I may be so bold, I think you are creating your own path," Ayo said.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. That's a big compliment coming from you."

Two new Doras guarded his home. He entered his dwelling and took a shower first before changing into dinner clothing. Mpilo would bring fresh royal robes to the media room for him. N'Jadaka took a moment to catch a cool breeze on his terrace and smoke a cigar. A little fatigue caught him before he left to eat with his family.

Disa and Grandpop arrived with the children and his paternal grandparents. Umama and Baba Z would stay to watch his speech in Ramonda's suite with the rest of the family. He gave Disa a warm hug and kiss on her cheek.

"I can tell you were running around today," Disa teased.

"I got your message after I came back to the palace. You're leaving for the Jabari lands?" he said.

Disa flicked a loose strand of hair from her left temple.

"I'm going to check out some temple structures with my Phase Two team. Can you keep Joba with you this weekend? Her nanny will be with her in case you have extra work. I'm going to stay with M'Baku and Ayomide."

"That's no problem. Everything is good, even with the shutdown of Phase Two?"

"Yeah. I have other projects to take care of and there are my preparations for the UDC conference."

Her eyes were evasive. Something was up. He assumed it was M'Baku's brother-in-law.

Adebiyi.

N'Jadaka picked up on her attraction to the giant builder. She'd always liked older men with swag, and Adebiyi was no slouch. A somewhat crotchety personality for N'Jadaka to warm up to at their first meeting at the ball, Adebiyi acted distant around the hoopla surrounding the king's coronation party… however… he wasn't a slouch when he was near Disa.

There was a spark of something between the two, and because N'Jadaka knew all of Disa's tells, he had to step into the knowing with a bittersweet feeling that his closest female friend, the mother of his baby girl, his first love… she had found someone new for herself.

It was all over her face at the ball. That glow of attraction in those early days of getting to know someone.

"Have your nanny bring her to me at my office before you leave."

"Your office? I don't want her interrupting your work—"

"I'll take off for the day once she is with me," he said.

"Great," Disa said.

She looked him in the eye finally, and it confirmed his assumptions about Adebiyi in his gut.

Yani arrived moments later with Twyla and Marisol. He gave Twyla and Marisol affectionate hugs and double-cheek kisses. His eyes trained on Yani as the other women joined the rest of the family inside the private family dining hall. She dressed in a modest jade caftan with her face made up as if she were going out later.

"Hey," he said, trying to sound casual, even though his throat became dry suddenly.

Yani stood in front of him, rubbing her right arm and looking around to see if anyone else watched them.

"Sweet Pea told me she had fun with you at the housing tour for the UDC. They have elephants that just walk through the hotel?" Yani said.

"Yeah."

"You have a good day? Ready for your speech?"

Yani's voice sounded rushed, like she strung words together just to say something… anything.

"Today went well. I'm ready to address the nation… listen… um… Disa is heading up to the Jabari mountains this weekend and I'll have Joba with me. Can I keep Sydette and Riki too?"

"Uh… yeah. It would be nice to have a free weekend for myself."

"Okay, good… um… I'd like to talk to you about possibly keeping them more often here in the palace during the week. They're off for their school break."

The side of Yani's lip twitched. She appeared unsure.

"Think about it," he said.

"It might be too much for you to handle now that you're running everything," she said.

"You know I have a ton of help, and they can be with me when I'm in my office working."

"They'll distract you."

"Not during my lunches and while I'm reading reports. I'm a multi-tasking father."

She looked doubtful.

A royal server passed them by with a tray of broth bowls to start their meal.

"We better go in," he said.

He turned to walk into the dining room. Yani held his arm back and kissed his cheek.

"That's for good luck tonight… with your speech," she said.

She rushed past him and entered the dining room.

N'Jadaka stayed put. Her kiss was warm on his skin. The softness lingered.

Sydette ran out to get him.

"Did you ask her, Baba?" Sydette asked.

"What Sweet Pea?"

"Mama… did you ask her if we could stay with you?"

"I did."

"What she say?"

N'Jadaka kept staring at the open dining room door.

"Baba!"

Sydette tapped his arm.

"You two can stay with me this weekend."

"Yay!"

Sydette danced around him. N'Jadaka reached down and lifted her up over his shoulder. She burst into hysterical giggles as he walked into the dining room, waggling her body and tickling her sides.

Hearing her joyful laughter made him feel like the best king and father in the world.

Chapter 63 HERE.

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#Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Volume 4 #Wakanda Forever #black panther #killmonger fanfiction #Erik Killmonger #erik killmonger fanfiction #pantherverse #uzumaki rebellion #Uzumaki Rebellion Writes #Wet Sugar 2 #njadaka #black panther fanfiction #Namor

[honeysunned]

Mistakes V

It’s finally here omg! I’m kind of sad, because this is the series that started it all for my writing on this blog, but I’m excited to move onto more fics. I hope you all like it!

~

“I can walk on my own,” you finally gritted out, sweaty and angry and embarrassed all at once.

The two of you stared each other down for a painful amount of time. Erik, with his heaving chest and taught face, and you, wincing in pain from the bark digging into your back, but determined to show him that you were done playing his game.

The past few months may have been confusing. You may have gotten caught up in the man behind the face, fooled into thinking he was, or could be, something he was not. However, at the moment, everything was crystal clear. You were the laughing stock of the kingdom, known by some as “The King’s Whore”. It had bothered you at first, but you’d forced yourself to get over it, telling yourself that they weren’t in your position. They didn’t know just what you were dealing with, how conflicted you were. You had betrayed T’Challa by sleeping with the man who’d killed him, giving into a tyrant who played on your insecurities about your late friend, the only man you’d ever loved.

Most of all, you were pregnant, something forced on you without your knowledge. It was crazy, really, how it took something as monumental and life-changing as a child for you to finally see reason. It was crazy how it was too late. You should have left a long time ago. You had tried, yes, but the threat of N’Jadaka finding your friends and Queen Mother had scared you into submission, but instead of fighting smarter, you’d simply stopped fighting. Wakandans always believed that sex was something spiritual that connected people, even more so with your firsts, and you’d never given much truth to it before, but maybe you’d been stupid to do so. How else could you write off entering a relationship with the man who’d killed the love of your life?

Erik ran his eyes over you, almost in disappointment, eyebrow raised in that way that always made you feel small. It was only for a brief moment, but it was enough to make you nervous. He took a step back, hands still clasped onto your wrists as he pulled you away from the tree. He dropped them, letting your arms fall at your side, and you swallowed, throat thick with defeat. You weren’t a threat, and he wasn’t worried.

“I got great things planned for this place and for our people…”

You had already begun to shake your head in protest, having heard the speech so many times. Not once did you ever think him serious, though. Not once…until now.

“You a fighter, (Y/N). That’s the kind of girl I need by my side. Like I told you before, I know a good thing when I see it, and I’m not gonna let you leave, especially with my heir-.”

“You-.”

“I’m not tryna hear it,” he interrupted. “These people may fear me, but contrary to what you like to think, I’m not stupid. Fear ain’t gonna last forever. Now…now, I’ve got blood, here. Real and current blood. I’ve got ties, now, ties that none of them can deny.”

Your heart sank, and anger bloomed within your chest all over again at hearing that you were just a pawn to be used in his rule. A frown briefly overtook your features before you thought better of it, evening out your expression with a sigh. You didn’t say anything. You simply looked up at him, and nodded a hesitant nod, slowly leading the way back, his eyes watching your every move.

 ~

The days that followed were tense. The scandal of you running away and being reported missing was never mentioned. At least, not officially. It was talked about, you were sure, if the hushed whispers and pitiful gazes sent your way were any indication. You were grateful that the medic was a professional one, and no one seemed to know of your condition, though they would eventually find out, anyway. It just seemed that everyone guessed that you were unhappy and could not leave. They were right. You still ate with him, followed him around, and slept beside him at night, but there was a change in the air. You hated him, truly hated him…

…and he knew it.

Things seemed to be normal. Well, as normal as it had been since his arrival, for the most part. Only, it wasn’t. There was so much anger and heartbreak and sorrow inside of you. Enough to drive you insane.

You knew that you shouldn’t have done it, that there were other options, but you didn’t care. You had been playing it safe for weeks, eventually warming up to him, and putting on a front that all was forgiven. That you were willing to move past what he had done and help bring his goals to fruition. You had swallowed so many retorts, kept so many thoughts and objections to yourself until it all finally spilled over.

He had kissed you after he’d gotten out of the shower, a first since you ran away, and you’d let him, even going as far to reciprocate it. If Erik was taken by surprise, he did not show it. Your arms had wrapped around him, and it wasn’t long before the two of you ended up on the lavish bed, legs entangled. You had rolled and rolled until you were on top, his hands digging into your waist, lips trailing down your neck.

You had hidden it beneath the pillow hours earlier. It was all too easy to wrap your fingers around it and embed it into his back before he knew what had hit him. You had never tried to kill someone before, not really. It was odd, but you found that your hands did not tremble as you yanked it out of him, blood staining the sheets.

You’ll never forget the anger on his face, and you had gone in for another when your wrist was caught in a bruising grip, hurting enough to make you cry out. The bloody knife fell to the bed, and you fell to the floor. You’d barely had time to realize what had happened before his hand was around your throat, bringing you up to a height that was level with him. His gold fangs stared you in the face as your feet dangled above the ground.

“Oh, so we bold, huh?”

Your fingers came up to dig into his arm, tears springing behind your eyes at both the burn in your throat, and what he’d do to you, now. You knew what you were risking, what punishment you might face. He might have liked you, but at the end of the day, you were a pawn. Pawns were replaceable. He was saying something, but at this point, all you could hear was a roaring behind your ears, like a wave threatening to push you under. Your vision was fading, spots appearing here and there, but before you passed out, you landed on the floor again.

“Lock her up for treason,” he said to the two Doras you didn’t even see come in. “We’ll deal with her ass in two days.”

You shakily looked up at him with wide eyes, still trying to catch your breath as it registered what he meant. He wasn’t looking at you, though, but instead was glaring at the two women next to you. You looked up at them, and they too appeared to be in shock, unable to move as they processed his words.

“You bitches deaf or sum? Lock her ass up!”

They tugged you up without hesitation, but you kept your eyes on him as he finally lifted his own to glare at you. In that moment, you could finally see it, the betrayal in his eyes. You felt a twinge of something, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to regret what you’d done. You knew that if you had the chance, you’d do it all over again.

 ~

You looked up at him as he approached your cell, the high-tech system practically laughing at any thought of escape from you. You’d had all night to think of a possible escape, but you knew Shuri and her designs, and her tech was always flawless. He was dressed in all black, not unusual, and looked almost fit for the throne he sat on daily. Almost. Neither of you said a word as he approached, and when he finally stopped, he shook his head, disappointment in his features.

He was standing tall and proud, hands behind his back and a sneer on his lips. You were unbothered.

“Y’know…I had hopes that all of that wasn’t just…an act. I had hoped that you’d finally come to see things my way, realize how much I was tryna better us. I thought that you’d finally accepted-.”

“Accepted what? Your offer to be a queen to a genocidal tyrant while I raised our child that was thrust upon me, quite literally, against my will? What a wonderful bedtime story,” you spat.

He didn’t respond right away, loudly exhaling and running his eyes over you. A brief, humorless chuckle escaped him, and he walked forward. To your shock, the translucent wall rippled just the slightest, allowing him to pass through. You noticed the necklace of his suit resting on his chest, and you wondered if it had anything to do with that.

He towered over you, and part of you thought he might kill you then instead of waiting for tomorrow. The silence was heavy, thick with tension and unspoken words.

“You’re really going to kill both of us?” you finally asked.

“You got the face, the attitude, and the mind of a queen, but I can’t trust you. You tried to run away twice, that I can handle, but then you tried to kill me. I was drawn to you, (Y/N).”

You swallowed.

“I wanted you, still do, but I can’t be looking over my damn shoulder all the time.”

“What else did you expect from me? You thought that I would just accept this with ease?” you screamed. “You ruined my life!”

He turned away from you, clearly not wanting to hear it. Your chest heaved as you watched him pass through your cell again and turned to face you. The physical barrier between the two of you was thin, but everything else in between was monumental.

“You gonna kill me, Erik?” you finally asked, voice cracking just a bit despite your efforts.

He held your gaze, an unreadable expression on his face as he studied you.

“I guess we gone have to see…”

You huffed, backing up and sliding to the floor as he left you with nothing but your child and your thoughts.

 ~

You were in and out of sleep, and you weren’t sure how long had passed. The next time you awoke, you heard footsteps, and you were in no hurry to sit up…no hurry to face Erik and your fate. You blinked as he approached, refusing to look up as he stopped in front of your cell.

“(Y/N)…”

The voice was filled with sadness and anger and relief all rolled into one…

…but the voice wasn’t Erik.

You sat up with wide eyes, staring in disbelief at the figure before you. You blinked, a frown forming as you fought to process not only what you were seeing, but also what you were feeling. You swallowed, struggling to stand just as he stepped inside the cell. You were sure you were dreaming…you had to be, but when he reached out to gently grab you arm, you collapsed against him.

“Y-you were dead! I saw it,” you whispered.

T’Challa wrapped his arms around you, holding you up as the tears spilled over. you finally threw your own arms around him, afraid that if you let go, he would disappear. He pressed his face into your hair, inhaling as he shushed you.

“Shuri? Queen Mother? N-Nakia?”

“They are well,” he answered.

You sighed in relief, sagging against him. You wanted to know how he was here, you wanted to know what had happened, but you didn’t have the strength to ask. A part of you didn’t care. T’Challa was alive and that meant you were safe.

He pulled away from you, almost reluctantly, as if he was afraid to make you fall in doing so. He ran his eyes over you before reaching up to wipe your face.

“I am glad you are well. I heard… I’ve heard conflicting things…some of them rather disturbing…”

You swallowed.

“I’m pregnant,” you simply answered.

T’Challa sharply inhaled, eyes widening just a bit before his face sagged with the weight of sadness.

“You are sure…?”

You nodded. There was a brief tense silence before you finally acknowledged the elephant in the room.

“N’Jadaka…?”

T’Challa simply shook his head, and something in you sank.

“I did offer to heal him…to help him, but he refused,” he replied.

You looked away, something in you breaking at the knowledge that you really were just a pawn in the end. If not, then why would he accept death so easily? Why would he leave you and his child so easily? T’Challa wrapped an arm around you as he guided you out of the cell.

“Come. There are a few people who are dying to make sure you are okay…”

 ~

You walked through the tall grass, Nakia at your side as you let your feet press into the soft dirt beneath your feet. The wind whipped your thin twists past your face as you stared at the setting sun, arms aching. You smiled, thinking to yourself that it was a good kind of ache.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but we do want you to be there. Maybe I read too much into it, but I once thought…,” she trailed off.

You turned to face her with a genuine smile.

“No, you were right. I did love him. I was very much in love with him…”

Nakia nodded.

“…but he has never looked at me that way. I had to move on,” you stated.

The little girl in your arms cooed, and you looked down as you adjusted her.

“Little Nayima is growing so fast,” she said, gazing at her with a smile. “I’m glad that something good came out of all of this.”

“Me too,” you sadly replied.

You loved the little brown skinned girl in your arms, but sometimes you wish things had been different. You wish Erik had been different, and that he was here with you both.

“I’d love to be in the wedding,” you reassured. “We both would.”

You both chuckled as you held Nayima closer.

“Do you regret it?” Nakia suddenly asked.

You didn’t hesitate as you shook your head.

“No. Sometimes I did, but then she was here, and I loved her more than anything… You regret mistakes, and I don’t think I’ll ever regret her.”

It was the truth. Nayima had come and there was no room in your heart for T’Challa. Perhaps something had replaced your love for him a while ago. For your own sake, you had finally let him go, and you were happier for it. It was probably best that she would never know who her father was. Then again, maybe one day you’d meet someone who she would come to know as her father. In the end, you decided that it didn’t matter. She had you, and you would love her and treat her right, because you saw what the opposite could do to a child. The mistakes of your former king had altered your life greatly, and you prayed that Wakanda would learn from them.

Tags: @destinio1 @wakanda-4evr @holy-minseok @teehjayy @thotyana-in-this-hoe @enigmaticaphrodite @zolanski-r @colours-of-my-heart @theqwest @killmongersbaby @l-auteuse @jimizwidow @chaneajoyyy @orangeporcupinequeen @universoulbeginnings @soulsparker

#Erik killmonger x Reader #Erik Killmonger #Erik Stevens #erik stevens x reader #n'jadaka #njadaka #black panther #black panther fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #erik killmonger fanfic #michael b jordan #melanin

[kitesatforestp]

You know I’ve been thinking about black panther, and I just think it’s so shitty that T’Chaka, the daddy, had so many resources he could have busted Erik’s mom out of jail, got her out with the best lawyer, and let them live in Walmart or have him go there summer’s only. He chose not to. Erik won’t wrong😂 Wakanda are a bunch of conservative elitists who like to keep people out and not help because “tHeY nOt OUr pEOple”🚮

And with that said T’challa’s choice to not go to war with other countries or honestly just to give black folks tools to escape trauma and violence makes me think he didn’t want to cause he knows he’s no better than those he wants to keep out. He’s just as flawed as his dad, but I’m not upset with his flaws, he’s also just as selfish.

I hope they bring Erik back to go deeper into that cause the movie didn’t go into enough. They were right when they said what type of not king not father, of which T’Chaka was both, does that? Why did you believe that if you told your people that what happened was pure self defense and not murder? ☠️ you were already a person your people thought was capable of that

#black panther fanfiction #black panther community #black panther #erik killmonger stevens #njadaka #tchalla

[laketaj24]

Wreckless pt 1: Erik

Author’s Note: This will be a two part Drabble series. Here is part one!! Tag list open!! Black Panther/Marvel Requests are open!! I hope you enjoy.

You all voted for it to be Erik based on this PROMPT. Thank you all so much for voting!!!

Black Panther Masterlist!!

Pairing: WOC!Reader X Erik Killmonger

Warnings: Language

“What do you mean I don’t have a job anymore?” You say to Karen. Ten years of coming into this hell hole of place and then like that you were gone. Hell no. Hellllllll no.

“You’re services are no longer needed. We’ve enjoyed your work.”

“No, I’m hearing some bullshit.” You scoff.

“You can leave now, Y/N.”

“Excuse me!”

___________________________________________

Ten hours passed slowly behind the bars of the county jail. Maybe you shouldn’t have hit her. Maybe you should have just got your cardboard box full of shit and left but nope. You hit her and left with a charge.

“Y/L/N!” The bailiff called.

You stood from the hard metal bench and headed out the cell. There he stood. Erik always said he would bail your ass out, and here he was grinning and pissing you off before you could grab your shit.

“Tell me you won,” Erik said shaking his head.

“Shut up.” You say rolling your eyes. You take your purse and walk out of the double doors. This was one fucked up day. The end.

He opened the door for you and hopped in the driver’s seat. “Aight Muhammad Ali, we going home or you wanna eat? They give you three hits today or....”

“Erik get it alllll the fuck now! Yeah I hit her hoe ass! She know damn well I’ve been working my ass off there for years!! And then she fire me!”

“I told you to leave there, did I not?”

“Shut up.”

“Be mad if you want I told yo ass months ago, you ain’t even gotta work. But you wanted to. Now you at work hitting people like Rocky and shit, you don’t listen.”

“Hey... fuck you.”

“What you gone do hit me?” He laughed. “I thought not. Your temper always gets the best of you. Now look at you.”

The car stops in the driveway of your home and you waste no time climbing out and charging up the steps. Erik always had some slick shit to say. Always. You fumble with your keys and unlock the door heading to your bedroom. The door slams behind you and Erik is at it.

“Why you slamming doors?”

“Leave me alone!”

The door clicks and then opens as if it wasn’t even locked and Erik strolls in. “So you mad and you think you can just walk around here running shit?” Erik rolls his eyes dramatically pulling you over to him. “I’m gone let it slide this time cause you all sad and shit.”

“I’m not sad.”

“Pshhh, yes the fuck you are.” He laughs as you rest your head on his chest. You rub your fingers over the small bumps you feel through his shirt. “You better be walking around here wreckless.”

“I worked hard there.” You finally give in shaking your head.

“It’s aight to be sad.” He playfully pulled the strands from your face and his lips touch your head. “I can fuck the sad right out of you though.”

Tagging:   @wakanda-inspired @misspooh @valynsia @whoramilaje @harleycativy @virgosapphire79  @sparklemichele @theunsweetenedtruth @marvelpotterlove @ahhhhkeya  @iamrheaspeaks @thiccdaddy-mbaku @muse-of-mbaku @myboyfriendgiriboy  @someareblindtoitsbeauty @brittyevans @almostpurelysmut @readsalot73 @ivarsshieldmadien @slimmiyagi @cinnabearice @royallyprincesslilly @hutchj @im5ftbutmythroat66 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @madamslayyy @bartierbakarimobisson @killmongersaidheyauntie @babygurlniah43 @thehomierobbstark

#laketaj24 #erik killmonger x woc #erik stevens fluff #erik killmonger fic #erik killmonger imagine #black panther fanfiction #black panther fandom #erik stevens #njadaka #laketa j writes

[leelahsrose]

So…. Erik made an appearance at the MTV Movie Awards tonight.

#black panther killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #killmonger fanfiction #black panther #tchalla #mbaku #shuri black panther #michael b jordan #killmongersprincesa #fanfic #fandom #njadaka #erik stevens #erik killmonger x black!reader #LMAOOthatniggajumpedout

[belauriette]

Chosen (Part 2)

Black Panther fanfiction 

Summary: N’Jadaka yearns to leave a part of him behind.

Pairing: N’Jadaka x OC (Akoya Boahinmaa)

OC (black, plus size)

No warnings, just fluff..I may add some smut in the next part

I don’t know how to link properly. Here is Part 1 - http://belauriette.tumblr.com/post/173997692238/belauriette-chosen-summary-njadaka-yearns-to

"What is your name?"

"My name is Ayoka Boahinmaa."

"Beautiful name. What does it mean?"

"Ayoka means a joy bringer and Boahinmaa means one who has left her community." He waits for more explanation, but she is not ready to give that story. "It's a long story."

"Well, my name means simply one who sees the truth."

"Ayoka Boahinmaa, I would like to take you out to dinner, but I don't have much time to court you properly.

"What is the rush?" He ignores the question.

"Can I offer you something to eat from the kitchen?" she nods. N'Jadaka sends word to the chef to bring something special.

Not that Ayoka doesn't feel like she would make an awesome lover for any man. This man is the King of Wakanda. She couldn't help wondering out loud, "Why me?"

N'Jadaka seemed to be shocked by her question. "I like your energy. You make me feel good; at ease. And, you are gorgeous; my kind of beautiful. I don't expect you to fall in love with me overnight or anything, but I must warn you," he says smugly. "I expect that you will fall and there will be animalistic lovemaking, marriage, and babies."

"Whoa! In that order?!, Ayoka jokes. "You have all this figured out."

"What would be your preferred order?"

Looking directly into his eyes, Ayoka says, "animalistic lovemaking." *long silence*

N'Jadaka laughs hardily.

"Hey. I've never had sex with a western foreigner. I'm curious."

"Well, they say in my country that curiosity killed the cat and I assure you I plan to," N'Jadaka says with a sly grin. "You don't want to have my babies?"

"Honestly, I've never pictured my life with babies. And, marriage is an unnecessary technicality."

"Nah, that's just because you never met me."

Smiling at his cockiness, "Why are you so interested in starting a family?"

His whole demeanor changed. "I'm afraid I may not be around long. I must leave a part of me behind."

"Are you ill?"

"No. Some of your people are not happy I have taken over the throne, you know, killed the King. They don't agree with my plans for Wakanda refusing to listen to reason. My way is the only way."

"What way is that?"

"Liberation through war. Freedom must be taken.'

"I don't understand. Our people are already free."

"Yes. Wakandans think they are free and safe; their freedom is based on a fallacy. The fallacy that is hidden in this pseudo-freedom. They have believed in this way of thinking for centuries; to hide in plain sight while the rest of the world burns. Many black people across the African diaspora are not free due to lack of resources. Our people have been kidnapped, sold, enslaved, killed, and under continuous discrimination. They are in desperate need of Wakanda's help. Acquiring the throne was the only way to bring aide to my people. America is sick with racism and my fellow African-Americans are suffering tremendously. I feel like I'm talking too much. How do you spend your days?"

I force myself not to flood him with questions. "Well, my life is not as politically driven. I am a piano instructor. I teach 4th to 7th graders at the local preparatory school how to play the piano."

"Why piano?"

"The piano was my father's, first love. He insisted that I learn under his tutelage. Luckily, I grew to love it and now I can't live without it. Unfortunately, he is unable to play piano like he did when he was younger. Do you want to learn to play the piano? I provide private one on one lessons."

He smiles, "nah, I'm musically inept. Believe me. There is no hope for me."

"You would be surprised. I've heard I'm quite magical. There has never been a student incapable of learning under my instruction."

"You are so sexy. "

"Why do you say that?", while blushing.

"Your confidence. It's always been my weakness. It can be hard to find a woman with true confidence back home. Our society does not encourage unapologetic black women to be confident, especially not plus size women."

"Plus size? What does that mean?"

N'Jadaka realizes that Ayoka doesn't understand some of the American vernacular. "A woman's size is heavily policed and judged in my country. Women feel so much pressure to be thin that many opt to get surgery to change their appearance. Europeans dominate media. They flood our minds with images of white beauty standards. Even our hair in its natural state is frowned upon when attempting to attain employment."

Ayoka gives all of this a lot of thought. His home sounds so sad and oppressive.

Suddenly there is a knock at the door. The chef brought an array of traditional West African dishes; jollof rice, beef, plantain, fufu, peanut soup, and puff puff for dessert. N'Jadaka waits patiently while she washes your hands in the bowl of water sent with the dinner and then he does the same. The King waits while she picks out her dinner choices. He went for the obvious; jollof rice, beef, plantain. She eats her fufu and peanut soup for in silence; digesting their previous intense conversation. She looks up and catches him watching her dipping her fufu in the peanut soup. "Do you want to try my food?"

He looks up with mischievous eyes. "As a matter of fact, I do. But, I'm not sure how to eat it properly. Show me."

What a shame. She moves closer to him, she pulls a piece of fufu from her plate and then dips it into the peanut soup. She slowly brings it to his mouth. Staring at her he eats the food right from her fingers. She waits to see if he likes it, "Nandi, kunene?" And, then he leans in to kiss her gently on the mouth. "Indeed, delicious." She is shocked that he knows her language.

She pulls her focus from his piercing eyes. "Now, you try it. You must use your fingers."

He leans over to pull a piece of fufu from her plate, dips it into her peanut soup and brings it to her mouth. "Zidla." Her heart is racing and embarrassed at the possibility that she may have sucked his fingers a second too long. She looks down blushing and clears her throat. "Well, as you can see I love to eat."

"I see. I love to eat as well," grinning.

He brings her attention back to the puff puff waiting to be devoured. "Let's not forget dessert." They both stare at each other hungrily.

@babygirl-bri @babygirlofwakanda 

#wakandaforever #michaelbjordan #blackpanther #love #fanfiction #fanfic #chadwickboseman #ryancoogler #killmonger #njadaka #kingnjadaka #king #BEWritings #black panther #marvel

[nuetral-cha0s]

Inner consciousness: You have to get some sleep, you can’t stay up all night reading BP fanfics... Me: But my favorite writer just updated...

#gif #black panther #tchalla #t’challa x reader #black panther killmonger #killmonger x reader #poc #black panther fanfiction #njadaka #shuri black panther #black panther fandom

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 4 of 30]

Summary: Erik struggles with his Wakanda goals and the absence of Yani, while she, in turn, copes with the lack of support from her job and her daughter’s father...

Mature audience only. NSFW.

Looks like this series is going to be longer than 6 parts. Lol, I knew it, just like “Say Less”, I think I can wrap it up in 6, but the characters said “Nope.” I’ll say 9 now, and see where I can tie things up in a neat bow. Which is never really neat with Erik tbh.

Back to the next update....

"But baby Don't get it twisted You was just another nigga on the hit list Tryna fix your inner issues with a bad bitch Didn't they tell you that I was a savage Fuck your white horse and a carriage Bet you never could imagine Never told you you could have it

You needed me Ooh You needed me To feel a little more, and give a little less Know you hate to confess But baby ooh, you needed me…"

Rihanna- "Needed Me"

Yani didn't arrive at the compound Friday morning.

Erik hung around the pool for most of the day waiting to see if she would show up. He didn't pester Leona about where she was, but every time he heard footsteps coming down the walkway, or voices below the pool, he was up and about looking for any signs of her. 

Nothing.

He replayed his contact with her the day before.

He asked for permission to touch her breasts. She consented verbally. The sexual release he received from playing with her nipples, watching those peaks drip with milk gave him the best orgasm he had ever experienced since…shit…since he had been with Disǎ. And that was almost two years ago. His only regret was that he didn't bend down and squeeze the warm liquid into his mouth, swirl the milk on his tongue, see what it tasted like.

Watching her fingers move frantically inside her panties had him curious about what she tasted like down there too. Her eyelids were half slits when he watched her orgasm ripple across her face. And fuck…the sound she made when she was cumming. It made his legs wobble.

The warmth from her lips when he pressed his mouth into hers brought into sharp focus the feelings of displacement in his life. Yes, he was a nomad, going from job to job in the most dangerous regions of the world, but he was used to that, accustomed to living out of duffle bags and airport lounges, his brain configured to collecting data about Wakanda and T'Chaka and compartmentalizing his hierarchy of needs on the most basic survival level. Erik understood and accepted what needed to be done. His purpose. And it was always about moving, moving, moving…

But that kiss, as fleeting as it was…it made him think of being still.

He had never had that experience before.

Even with his ex Disǎ and the deep yearning love he had, and still had for her, he knew that he was going to be in perpetual motion until he was sitting on the throne of Wakanda. Nothing got in the way of that.

Yani was just some random woman on a little rock in the middle of the sea. He had gone through many women over the years in various parts of the world. Black women just as fine if not finer than this one island girl cleaning and cooking for some roughnecks.

What was it about her that had him jumping up every few minutes thinking she was about to appear? Had him making extra excursions up to the front house with excuses that he was hungry or thirsty or had a question about the compound. Had him up all night fantasizing about sucking on her tits while he fucked her nice and slow. Some nine-month-old baby's mother, her pussy probably still recuperating from squeezing out that cute chubby infant…why the hell was he going online looking up info on vaginal sex after childbirth? The hell?

Erik ran his hands over his hair and stood up from the lounge chair for maybe the twentieth time just to make another trek up to the front house. He'd have to ask Leona about her niece in a round-about way before he went back into his room to jack off thinking about heavy tits spurting milk in his mouth. He wanted to leave teeth marks on her areola, deep imprints of his gold slugs…mark her in some kind of way.

"Fuck," he muttered stomping up the steps that took him to Leona.

She was cleaning up in the dining room after making a delicious lobster bisque with grilled tilapia for lunch. He wasn't fond of tilapia, it always tasted dirty to him, but she prepared it with enough seasoning that made it palatable.

"Hello again," she said.

The smile on her lips matched the smile in her eyes, and Erik thought for a moment that she was on to him. He worried that overt interest in Yani would make Leona opt to keep her from working there while he was present. Erik was a killer. She could sense that he was more than just a polite young man showing manners to an elder. He was part of Klaue's team, and he knew that she was also aware of how men like him could turn on a dime.

"My associate Tahir is flying in tomorrow. I'm thinking of taking him back to that club I told you about. Rush?"

"I remember."

"You said your nephew was performing there? What does he do? Sing?"

"He raps. Very good too. A lot of my nieces and nephews do. None as good as Kendall though."

"What day is he performing?"

"Saturday night. I don't know what time he goes on stage, but Yani said it was Saturday. They're all excited about seeing him. It's his first real show."

Yani would be there. Bet.

"Are you going to see him? I can take you with me and Tahir if you don't have a ride—"

"Oh no, that's for you young people. I will be home in my apartment watching my shows. Yani has been trying to get me to go, but….no…"

"I'll record his performance on my phone for you."

"That would be nice, Mr. Killmonger."

He wanted to tell Leona his name, but he wanted to keep some distance too. For now, he only wanted Yani to know it.

He stood watching her for what seemed like an unnecessary amount of time. He had the info he needed, but watching her move about the room reminded him of being with his Nana.

"Can I help you clean or anything?"

She stopped and looked at him, a questioning expression on her face.

"There's not much going on today, pretty much a free day for me," he said.

"You nuh go to the beach?"

"Went twice already. This morning and before lunch," he said.

"I'm surprised you nuh go to St. John like the others," she said changing out placemats for the dining table.

"I'm going on Sunday."

"You like being by yourself, Mr. Killmonger?"

"Most times, yes."

"Things 'round here are pretty much done—"

"You need any help prepping dinner?"

"Oh, no. Dinner will be easy."

"How so?"

"Mr. Klaue is taking you all out to eat tonight. I get a little break. In fact, I am going to watch a little tv now and kick up my feet. Thank you for offering help. It was a kind gesture."

Erik nodded and Leona's eyes regarded him with interest.

"Would you like to watch tv with me?"

He hoped he didn't sound too eager when he nodded his head with enthusiasm.

"Well then, come along," she said.

Erik followed her to the apartment under the house. It was small, quaint, and very neat. The type of neat Erik appreciated. Attached to the entrance of the apartment was a shed that contained the washer and dryer for laundry.

Looking around the apartment living room Erik admired all the photos of family Leona had up. Most of the walls were covered with framed pictures. He spotted several with Yani, many of them when she was younger and had hair full of braids with barrettes and big round bubblegum ties on the ends. Most of her pictures had some incarnation of her squinting at the camera, or holding a hand up to block the sun from her eyes.

She was a thin wiry girl in her youth, but Erik could tell by the shape of older female relatives in many pictures that she was predestined to have hips and an ass to make men weep. That was the amusing thing he found about the island folk. The women would be round and luscious and the men would be lean and angular. There were photos of Leona when she was younger, and Erik had to admit that the women in this family were stellar to gaze upon. Sydette's photos were front and center, and she appeared to be the focal point for the more recent photos of family gatherings.

"Sit, sit…"

Leona went into her kitchen and brought out a bowl of grapes and a bowl of potato chips.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you, I'm good right now."

They sat on the couch and watched Jeopardy and then Wheel of Fortune before she turned to world news. He was leaning back on the couch comfortably, stuffing grapes into his mouth and listening to Leona critique the state of affairs in the U.S. But then his jowls, the part of Erik's jaw-line that Tahir said made him look like a pitbull sometimes, grew tight when he saw King T'Chaka being greeted by the Queen of England. And by his side wearing a crisp designer suit was his son, a solemn-faced Prince T'Challa.

"Oh, that young man is handsome. All my nieces think he is so cute."

Erik grunted and Leona chuckled. He felt his blood pressure rise and he shifted his body forward to study their faces. King T'Chaka was all smiles as the press took photos of them inside Buckingham Palace. T'Challa's eyes looked pampered and bored.

Erik clasped his hands together. If he were alone, he would probably cuss up a storm or hit something. But he concentrated on being calm in Leona's presence. He could taste his anger on his tongue, a gelatinous cold thing that dampened his mood.

"I gotta go," he said bolting up from his seat.

"Okay, Mr. Killmonger," Leona said.

Her wary eyes watched him, the shift in the tone of voice and facial expression on him much too sudden.

Erik left a cold trail behind him when he exited the apartment. His feet felt unsteady as he walked the path that led to the cove and Yani's beach. He passed by Jerome sunbathing on a wide stone, the creature's eyes closed tight, it's tail flicking a bit.

Undressing and tossing his clothes on the sand, Erik ran into the warm waters and dived under a lazy wave. When his head broke the surface again, he let out a cry of rage that made the cords on his neck bulge. He punched at the water, raised his head to the serene azure sky and released a hot piercing scream that stripped his throat raw. The soft sand under his feet gave way and he lost his balance, falling backward, his arms flailing as he tried to prevent seawater from flooding his nostrils.

Gasping for air, he let out a few more pained shrieks until tears welled up and fell from his eyes.

If he didn't do something about the Udaku family soon, he knew he would burn up, self-immolate, a rabid spontaneous human combustion that would leave his charred remains still clenching fists and screaming to the sky.

Erik fell forward and a new wave lifted his prone body and carried him toward shallow waters. He rolled over onto his back and let the sea carry him while allowing the sun's rays to kiss his skin. Once a striking sienna, time on the island had enhanced his melanin to a sumptuous chestnut color, and he could feel the UV rays burning and darkening his skin even more.

Closing his eyes, Erik focused on letting the anger and frustration and hurt to rush over and away from him. It wouldn't disappear completely, but he could usher it into a corner for now.

His body rocked by gentle untroubled waves, Erik spread out his arms and floated.

Yani.

His thoughts went to her and how she looked when she swam in these same waters. Calm. Secure. At peace.

A calm came over him.

It started from the crown of his forehead and trickled down to his throat where it melted into his belly, unclenching the muscles there before reaching his toes.

He heard a splash.

Jerking up from his back, his eyes scanned the water. Was she here?

A small sea bird swooped over his head and Erik watched it dive into the water for fish.

He couldn't hide his disappointment. The need to see her clawing at him. Did she regret what she allowed him to do to her? Was she embarrassed? Did he cross the line by masturbating on her? So much of his semen had painted her as if she were a fine art canvass. Did it disgust her? Was it the sight of her breastmilk cascading down her stiff peaks and all over his hand and not in her child's mouth that drove her away? Did he waste sustenance meant for her child's growth and she felt ashamed about that? Regretful?

Her lips.

He wanted them again.

Wanted to hear her sighs of release, hear the sound of her fingers in wet spaces between her legs.

His eyes watched the liquid warmth create tranquility around his body.

He conjured a mirage of Yani, the way she was naked and pure when he caught her alone in the open water. Her legs so smooth and vivid and brown as she fell away from him, thighs wide open and giving him a glimpse of the treasure there.

He felt the familiar rush of blood to his center.

His erection bobbed in the water, the weight of it making his yearning for her worse.

"Fuck!"

He was wound up once more, her not being there agitating him and making his body tight again.

The fingers of his right hand slid down his length and encircled his wide glans. He squeezed then twisted his frenulum, his left hand dropping down to fondle his sack. A barrage of images hit him, all of Yani with his hands on her, moving her into various positions. His breathing became more pronounced and he found himself panting as he stroked himself, the heat of his stiffness making his fingers sweat. Pea-sized beads of pre-cum laced his tip and he swirled it around the head and dragged the natural lubricant down his length. He let his head drop back, his locs covering his eyes, the sun beating down on him as he rutted between his fingers.

He felt his glutes flexing, his heels digging into the sand, his toes spreading as he fisted himself faster.

"Oh shit…this bitch…" he gasped, his eyes only seeing Yani's lips and the back of her neck, the spread of her hips…fuck even watching her ass cheeks move while she wore baggy track pants and sweats with an oversized t-shirt had his toes tucking sand underneath his feet now. He remembered the way her eyes shined when he told her he would make her call him Daddy and then her nipples looked like they were crying through her shirt…just like they did when he had his beard pressed near her face and his breath was in her ear talking about Jerome. She had run away. She had also run away when he first saw her on this beach when he had put on his clothes while watching her with her eyes closed to stay modest around him, when he told her he would check on the iguana to give her privacy…

She ran away. She ran away each time her milk…

Wait.

Was he causing her to do that? Secrete fluid…?

The harsh groan that left his mouth superseded the ejaculation that had his seed shooting out into the ocean. He watched his semen hit the water and float for a bit before sinking and the rest washing away with the bigger waves rolling in. He sunk down to his knees trying to catch his breath while the water rinsed his body. Even with that intense release, he wanted more.

And she wasn't there.

He needed her there. He needed to whisper in her ear. Needed to touch her breasts again. Needed to allow his hands to fall down the small of her back and pull her in closer to him. Needed her big brown eyes to look up into his eyes again.

"Yah get too comfortable, Killmonger."

That's what she told him before he made them titties pump.

Nah. He hadn't even begun to get comfortable with her.

###

It was the last hermit crab race of the day.

Yani spent two three-hour-long tours hiking tourists around and exploring Cas Cay the small deserted island they stood on. She gave the Eco Tour spiel about the tidal pools, volcanic cliffs, and the geological blowhole they observed before doing the crab races. The only thing they had left to do was spend time snorkeling in the coral-fringed mangrove nursery. She stood among the red mangrove trees with fifteen tourists wearing beachwear. Their kayaks were tied together and waiting for the last crab to clear the finish line. She was tired and feeling bloated from wolfing down a bacon sandwich when no one was paying attention to her as they all disembarked from the kayaks.

Checking her waterproof watch, she hustled the group to gather their snorkeling gear.

Back in her water element, Yani led the people to safe places to snorkel and kept watch for people who wandered off. She tread water with her snorkel gear resting on her forehead. One of the tourists, a red-faced man from Belgium who was part of a Princess Cruise line kept lingering near her. Yani could tell he was going underwater near her to look at her ass and chest. She was wearing basic board shorts, but her backside was a bit extra. Her tankini top had her tits smashed together and showing some cleavage, and every time she turned around the man was at arms- length distance, his underwater face aimed toward her. Perhaps if she were taller and her physique stretched out a bit, her ass and breasts wouldn't look so prominent. But she was just a tiny bit above average height and came from a family of short round curvy women. Most of her baby weight had dropped, but her Aunt Leona kept her fed well with the rich foods from Klaue's compound, so she was going to be hefting around extra for a minute.

"Sir, please respect my personal space," she told him when he came up to clear his googles of condensation. Her fingers twirled the cowrie shell choker that hung around her neck.

"Excuse me?" the man said, looking shocked that she said that to him out loud where others could hear.

"You are swimming too close to me."

The man's wife overheard her and came splashing over. Her pasty face blocking the sun from Yani's eyes.

"What's going on?" she said.

"I was telling him not to swim so close to me—"

"I was not swimming close to you. I swam past you—"

"Sir, I won't argue with you. I am simply asking you to—"

"Yani, what's happening?"

Ugh. Patrick, the Eco Tours assistant manager.

"This man has been looking at me underwater and I don't like it."

Patrick, as always, went into tourist damage control, ignoring her issue. His fake plastic smile attempting to smooth the tussled tourist feathers.

"I'm sorry for this," Patrick said to the tourist.

"Why are you sorry? I just asked him to stop—"

"Yani, it's time to start heading back. How about rounding up the others, please? Thank you."

"But this man—"

"Yani, do your job—"

"I am doing my job—"

"I really don't like her attitude or her accusations," the wife said.

"Your man was looking at my ass—"

Patrick gave her a look, his smile a frozen grimace. "I did not!" the man said, his accent thick and flustered once he saw the other tourists gathering around them.

"Yes, you were! My ass and my chest!"

Glancing around, Yani could feel eyes on her. Many sympathetic, but no one spoke up for her. Now she was beginning to feel like the odd man out. She took a deep breath. She needed this job. The hours were flexible and the pay was pretty good by island standards. Where else could she get paid to swim and play in the water? She decided to swallow her pride.

"You were swimming too close, that's all."

She walked away with her snorkeling gear in her hand and placed them in the lead kayak, the one she used to guide them all to the cay. Paddling back, she could hear the husband and wife barking at one another in French. Yani was happy to be rid of them as she collected gear to be sanitized for the next group of tourists.

When she was finished packing away all the gear and cleaning up the kayak launch area, Patrick called her into his office.

"I gave that couple a refund," Patrick said.

He sat behind the cash register and scrolled his cell while talking to her. Yani shrugged. One hundred and sixty dollars taken from the company.

"You used to be an awesome employee—"

"I still am. I get the best surveys, and I get the biggest tips—"

"Yeah…but lately, you've been moody and a little difficult—"

"How? When? Who has complained about me? I'm your best—"

"Not so much anymore—"

"You're a liar—"

"And you're fired. I just received the okay from Heather.'

"Did you tell her what that guy did?"

"I didn't see anything and neither did anyone else. You overreacted."

"Give me my money!"

Yani held out her hand.

"Heather has to cut you your final check—"

"No, you fire me on the spot, you give me my money on the spot—"

"I can't…"

Yani grabbed her phone from her work cubbyhole and dialed.

"Heather, if you fire me then you pay me right now. I swear to God I will bring my cousins back here if you don't tell Patrick to pay me. I'm going to file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau too. Or maybe I sue you. One of your customers made me uncomfortable and I only told him to stop…what? Yes, he's right here….do that then."

Yani hung up and the office phone rang. Patrick picked it up.

"Eco Tours…yeah, Heather…yeah…I didn't see anything, she just accused the guy. Okay…alright."

Patrick hung up. The second shift staff were filing in and some watched the expression on Yani's face as she held her hand out.

"Money, now!"

Patrick punched in a code on the register and it opened. He counted out two-hundred dollars in cash. All twenty-dollar bills. He handed it to Yani. She snatched it and stuffed it down her tankini. She stomped out of the office cursing under her breath. Kendall was waiting for her, his old Yamaha V-Star motorcycle spit-shined and propped up by its kickstand. He handed Yani his extra helmet.

"What's wrong with your face?"

"I got fired."

"What? Why?"

"Some dirty old man kept looking at my bumper and my tits. But they said I have a bad attitude. Take me home to my baby before I fight everyone in there."

Her cell rang.

"What Heather? No, it's not right. Patrick doesn't respect me or my work. You know I work hard. I make people return here. Two years Heather…how can you tell him to fire me and you don't have all the facts?"

Yani could see Kendall's face getting stressed listening to her. She patted his arm.

"I'll call you tomorrow, Heather. Yes, I have my money. Okay. Bye."

She thrust her phone into her tankini top right on top of her money.

"Boss Lady?" Kendall said.

"She wants to talk about what happened today. Gave me my job back. Scared I'll sue. All they had to do was believe me the first time and back me up. But them worried about foreign white people being unhappy. Kiss their asses and leave mine hanging."

She sucked her teeth and climbed onto the back of Kendall's bike.

The ride home to Red Hook was congested with cars as people made their way to popular tourist sites. Kendall weaved in and out of lanes and Yani enjoyed the sun warming her back and drying her work clothes. Resting her helmet on Kendall's shoulder as they waited at a slow traffic light, Yani felt herself beginning to get excited for Saturday night.

Eighteen months.

That was how long she had not gone out with friends. The moment she was pregnant, Chez had her locked down at home. When her parents made the decision for her not to stay with them, she still was pressured by Chez to stay indoors when she moved in with Leona. No lunch dates with her girlfriends. Family gatherings with her extended family lasted twenty minutes and then Chez was hustling her away. Even shopping for baby things was frowned upon.

He didn't want her out in public, didn't want her around people who could influence her decision to stay with him or not. When she stood up for herself, he bullied her with verbal abuse. He knew not to lay a hand on her because her family would slice his balls off, but Chez was a master of psychological warfare. Telling her she was fat and ugly and that nobody would want her if she left him. Called her lazy when she wanted to sleep because Sydette was a big baby while she was inside Yani's belly. All of this happened in the later stages of her pregnancy. In the beginning, he was sugary sweet to her, begging her not to abort when she had doubts about having a child with him, promising to be the best father ever.

But when her belly got big, he started in on her. By then it was too late. By then she knew he didn't really want to be a father but her controller. When she became disenchanted with him, the war for her self-esteem began. He wanted to keep her down. Only because he didn't want anyone else to have her when she was so openly done with him.

Chez slept around and then went after a woman that sniffed him out when he first had his record contract.

Ursula.

She was nothing like Yani at all. Ursula's family had a little money, some connections…the right skin tone, the right educational background. Chez may have thought Ursula was a step up for him, but he was most definitely a step down for Ursula by the way her family reacted to him. Their friends used to tease Chez and call him the Dark Gable of the island. Tall and lean, Chez had gorgeous skin that was like midnight silk and a smile that looked like diamonds lived in his mouth. Yani's dream boyfriend. God, she loved him so. Loved him with all the naïve stupidity that young girls had when first love is acute, visceral…painful in its honesty because they have nothing to compare it to. She let him use her body as much as he wanted because that was her man, and her man could have anything he wanted at any time. If he called her late at night and said come over now, she was hopping on that dick quick-quick, even eating his ass if he wanted, which he loved.

To walk into a club or a house party with him was the epitome of being a celebrity in their tiny world. Chez had that "it" factor that made people into stars, and that was the fantasy made false when he became popular. It started with Chez doing a few bars here and there on songs by other up-and-coming artist's mixtapes. Then there was the indie single he put out that had Yani singing the hook for him. She wore revealing clothes for him onstage, simulated fellatio on him at performances…anything to help him succeed. He told her constantly that money was on the way and she could go to school on his dime. They were on their way. When the contract came through and they took their first trip to Florida, Yani's parents fell for the pipedream too. Once they allowed her to take a gap year and saw how good Chez was to her, they loosened their grip on their relationship.

But then Sydette was conceived.

Next came the rumors of the girl with the long loose curls and rich background hanging with Chez's entourage when Yani wasn't around. Rumors of Chez texting the same girl late at night to come jump on his dick. Then the non-rumor of Chez running behind some pregnant girl buying new baby clothes when Yani was laid up with stitches inside her torn and still bleeding vagina as she tried getting Sydette to latch onto her nipple and suck. The non-rumor of some girl driving around the island in Chez's car with a baby girl that looked exactly like Chez, but with hazel eyes and skin the color of the sand Yani stuck her toes in on Klaue's private beach.

Lookie.

"You quiet, Yani," Kendall said, trying to sneak his motorcycle past a hotel delivery truck.

"Just thinking about you performing tomorrow. And me looking cute."

"You know Chez will come."

"I know. I don't care."

"Does Zachary have to come?"

"I'm tired of people asking me that. Chez nuh own me. He can't control who I see. I like Zachary. He is good to me and Sydette. Do you know how hard it is to find and date a man when you have a pickney hanging off your tit? I deserve to have fun with a boyfriend."

"Oh, he's your boyfriend now?"

"Working on it. We are exclusive now. Moving slow and easy. Still dating, not a couple-couple yet, but we agreed to see only each other,"

The words came out and Yani felt the whispery ghost of guilt when she thought of what Erik had done. What she had allowed.

He was dangerous.

Scary.

Persuasive without saying a word.

What if he wanted to do that again and she didn't?

All the men at the compound carried firearms. He could put a gun to her head and force her if he really wanted to. Catch her walking down to the beach alone…

She shook her head, bumping her helmet into Kendall. "Easy back there," he said.

Traffic began to pick up a bit once they passed the docks.

Twyla was standing out on the apartment balcony with Sydette when Kendall pulled his bike in to park.

"Look. It's Mommy!" Twyla said helping Sydette wave down to Yani.

"Hi, Sweet Pea!" Yani called up, and she could see her daughter’s chubby legs kicking at the sound of her voice.

With her daughter in her arms, Yani smothered her with kisses, pleased to know she had the next two days to herself. Monday would be interesting only because the new men would be arriving at the compound, and she was curious to see who would be joining the wild bunch already there.

"She ate already," Twyla said tickling Sydette's barefoot.

"Why you have my baby in only a diaper? People think I can't afford clothes for her."

"Too hot for clothes, huh Sydette? Too hot to be wearing all that extra material," Twyla said. She reached out and touched Yani's hair. "You want me to touch up this color? Your roots are coming out."

"Should I change the color? I saw this platinum shade that would look so good on me."

"You don't want something darker?"

"I look good with light hair. Makes mi skin look like brown sugar. Cuz you know girls, girls dem sugah…"

"…the girls dem need this nigga, yah!" Twyla finished by winding her hips and giggling.

Sydette stared at them both then grabbed for Yani's cowrie shell necklace.

"Zachary keeps calling. You give him some already?" Twyla said.

Yani slapped Twyla's arm.

"We are courting still."

Twyla rolled her eyes

"Twist my locs?"

"No. I just got home. I'm tired. My hands are tired—"

"You want blonde hair again?"

Yani frowned.

"Let me rest for at least an hour."

"I'll give you two. I have to wash my hair first."

Entering the apartment, Yani was met by another cousin, Dex, who sat in front of the TV eating cereal.

"Yani!" Dex shouted.

"You still giving Twyla and Kendall a ride tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'm bringing Boogie and Donald too. Cee Cee is bringing Dulan and Sonya."

Yani looked at Kendall.

"See? You thought your family was going to be too busy and all your favorite cousins are coming."

Kendall beamed and poured himself a bowl of cereal.

"Auntie coming home today?" Dex asked.

"Tomorrow night," she said.

Dex clapped his hands.

"Just make sure you clean up this place before she gets here."

A two-bedroom apartment and a sleeper-couch housed a baby and five adults. Everyone worked and everyone contributed to the household. Leona worked six days a week on the compound when Klaue was around, and less than two times a week when he was gone. Her nieces and nephews covered her rent for the place in exchange for staying there while she was away.

Dex was happy because he would be able to sleep in a bed for one more night before returning to the couch with Kendall.

"What you cook?" Yani said sitting on the couch rocking Sydette in her arms.

"Got take-out," Dex said stretching his arm and reaching for Sydette's foot.

"Beef Patties?"

"Burger King."

Yani rolled her eyes.

"You don't have to eat it."

"I won't," she said popping Dex in his head.

"Stop that," Dex said.

Sydette reached out and grabbed Dex's hair, her fingers slipping through his matted curls.

"Ow…girl…"

He unhooked Sydette's fingers from his scalp.

Kendall dropped down on the couch next to Yani.

"She's bringing Zachary," Kendall said.

Dex glanced over at Kendall and then Yani.

"Yani…" Dex whined.

"I don't care what you say," she said lifting Sydette up and checking her diaper.

"This is why we end up having drama—"

"Won't be no drama—"

"You know how Chez is—"

"And? He laid up with that hoe and another baby. Fuck I care? I'm there to support my family. Zachary is taking me out to dinner and then we are coming to the club. This is a special night for we and I won't listen to that man's name being uttered in my ear."

Her tone of voice made it final.

"Who is watching Sydette?" Kendall asked.

"Anika."

Yani's youngest sister agreed to watch her baby mainly so she could have her little boyfriend hang out with her at Leona's apartment. Ever since Yani's baby mishap, her younger siblings had been under a strict regime. No boys or men allowed in the house. So they had to sneak. Yani wasn't worried about her sixteen-year-old sister though, Leona would be there to keep an eye on them. Anika was still at the holding hands stage with boys, and the young man she was smitten with was a cornball who loved Anika because she loved anime like Yani, and played RPG games like a pro. Love at first online game.

Yani rubbed Sydette's back. Her daughter was resting against her neck and falling asleep. She could smell the fresh clean smell of baby shampoo in her child's hair, and the deep comfortable breathing she had when she was in her mommy's arms.

Yani reached into her tankini and pulled out her cell and her money. She shoved the cash in Dex's face.

"Take this for the house phone and light bill and put the rest on Auntie's cell phone bill," she said.

"I already covered all that, you keep this for school and Sydette," Dex said folding the bills back up and putting it into her hand.

"You sure?"

"I was able to get extra hours at the Job, so I'm good. They didn't hire too many seasonal workers this quarter."

Yani leaned over and kissed her cousin on the forehead. Every little bit helped. She could apply some of that cash for taking her TEAS test, the first step in trying to get into nursing school on the island. The aptitude test would assess if she had the skills to qualify as a nurse, and the administrative fee was eighty dollars. The rest of the money she would use to get Sydette diapers and some new baby bottles since she broke two of them transferring them home the other day. Any leftover money was going towards some new sneakers. The rubber on the back of her Nike kicks were peeling and crazy glue wasn't helping to save them anymore.

"Can you watch her while I shower?"

Dex took the sleeping baby in his arms and Yani walked into her bedroom and grabbed clean clothes and underwear.

Sleep.

She wanted a long uninterrupted sleep and a plate of beef patties with melted cheese. And some strawberry ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.

Cool water woke up her skin, and she quickly cleaned her body. Rinsing off, her fingers trailed over her areolas, gently skimmed the tips of her breasts as Erik's face came to mind. All day he had been flitting in and out of her thoughts. How would she face him on Monday? It would be difficult to pretend that nothing happened because she couldn't trust her own body around him anymore. She had kissed him, so how could she serve breakfast or lunch, or even clean the pool properly if she would have to look at his lips and not think about them being on hers? Why didn't she say no when he asked to touch her? It would've been so easy to walk away and just deal with her breasts, leave the compound and just ignore him for the rest of his stay.

Her Aunt would catch on too because Leona caught every subtle look, word, or action in that place. She had to. These were bad men who pretended not to be bad, who often spoke in code around them. Auntie would be very cautious and her eyes would be wide open. Watching for anything to be off or strange. Yani knew with absolute certainty that they were really bad men when Leona had her help clean Klaue's personal house and she showed Yani a secret escape passage that Klaue revealed to her in case anything ever happened on the compound. Leona was never to reveal this passageway to anyone who came there. Everyone except for Yani.

The compound was usually pleasant and nothing terrible had ever happened. Only the occasional hurricane threats brought any worry. When Klaue was gone overseas or back in his home country, the compound was paradise and the energy felt lighter to work in. She would swim in the pool, sunbathe, or read books on the patio and pretend to be a spoiled rich girl.

She found it greedy of rich white people like Klaue to own so much property and hardly ever be there to use it when her own family would kill for the space to live on their own island. Three houses sat empty eighty percent of the time simply because some foreigner had money to waste. How nice it would be to let her daughter crawl around on the private beach, or float on a little raft with a view of her own sea? Maybe one day run around through beautiful plants and trees with Jerome? Lay on a big soft bed like the one Erik had in his room all the time.

Her fingers played with her nipples until they were stiff. She turned off the water and stood naked, feeling the pleasure of her own touches. Her fingers on her right hand dropped down to separate the folds of her prominent inner labia. She manipulated the slippery skin, inserting the middle and ring finger of her right hand inside her vagina. She proceeded to thrust in and out as she pictured Erik's hand working his erection, the slit on his tip dripping…

Yani grabbed the detachable shower nozzle and switched the mode to pulse and placed it over her throbbing clit. She had to hurry, wasting water was a no-no. Gently sliding the hood of her clit back and letting the water splash on her perfect pink spot almost brought her to delicious completion until a knock on the bathroom door interrupted her. "You almost done in there?"

Kendall's voice broke the serenity of her self-pleasuring. She removed her fingers and rinsed off completely before shutting off the water. She didn't bother to dry off, just threw on clean panties and a sky-blue cotton bathrobe. She ran a roller of deodorant under her armpits then opened the bathroom door.

"All yours," she said.

She went into the bedroom she shared with Twyla to find some shorts and a top.

"Yani!"

Dex called out to her from the living room.

"You need something?" she asked, thinking Sydette was fretting because she wanted her.

Dex was standing at the open front door.

"Where's Sydette?" she asked.

Dex nodded his head outside the apartment entrance.

Yani padded over to find Chez standing outside holding Sydette in his arms. She reached for her baby. Chez took a step back from her hands.

"She's fine. I'm her father, calm yourself," Chez said.

Her daughter's eyes stared at Chez like he was a stranger with bad energy. Her little face vacillated between pre-tears and fretting. Soft little grunts of air escaped her lips.

Hair twisted into tiny peppercorn sized locs around his scalp, and a new gold-chained necklace hanging from his neck, Chez stared at her bathrobe, his eyes focusing on her breasts.

"You with someone?"

"I just got out of the shower. What do you want?" her voice was rushed, her eyes focused on Sydette. He made her nervous holding her.

He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. She took it and counted it. Fifty dollars.

"That's it?" she asked. He owed her way more than that.

"You know I have other responsibilities—"

"You are two months behind, Chez—"

"When I get more, I'll give you more. You are working and making enough money—"

"I work three fucking jobs! If you gave me what we needed, what we agreed on, then I could quit one of them and be with our baby more since you don't want to spend time with her—"

"I'm here aren't I? I'm holding her now, right?"

"It would help me if you could keep her sometimes—"

A car horn honked.

Chez looked behind him.

"Stop honking the goddamn horn!"

His raised voice startled Sydette and she started crying, her arms reaching for Yani.

"Stop crying," Chez said, his arm pulling Sydette away from Yani.

"Give me my baby," Yani said. She tried to keep her face calm. The car horn honked again.

"Stop pressing on the fucking horn, Ursula!"

The yell from Chez's voice made Sydette wail. Yani grabbed her child and yanked her away from Chez.

"You brought your bitch to my house?"

"Watch your tongue—"

Yani stepped around Chez to get a good look at Ursula sitting in the passenger seat of Chez's car. The apartment was on the second floor of a two-story building.

"You can afford to pay what? Five hundred dollars a month for that car, but you come bring me fifty dollars? How do I stretch this out for a month for your baby?"

Yani cradled Sydette's head against her neck. Calm gurgles came from her daughter's mouth now that she was out of Chez's arms.

"I'm doing the best I can, Yani."

"So am I. But I'm tired. Our baby deserves better. I deserve better. It's not right how you treat us—"

"Chez, let's go!"

Ursula stepped out from the passenger side of the silver sporty Honda. She held Chez's other daughter in her arms.

"Your woman is calling you," Yani said.

"When I get some more cash I'll bring it to you."

Yani reached out and pulled on the new gold necklace draped on his neck.

"How much this set you back, huh? Give it to me so I can pawn it."

Chez pulled her hand off of him. He leaned over and kissed Sydette on the cheek. He pulled on Yani's robe at the waist and kissed her on her cheek too.

"I have some money coming in soon. I'll be able to pay back what I owe you and then some. Okay?"

Yani stepped back from him.

"Chez!" Ursula's voice was incessant, "we need to go!"

"Stop yelling in front of my home!" Yani shrieked down to her.

Chez herded her back into the doorway of the apartment.

"Why did you bring her with you? You always try to hurt me, rub my nose in your trash," she said.

"She's not your issue. I'm here for the baby. I'll see you soon."

He rubbed the top of Sydette's head and bounded down the walkway to hit the stairs.

Ursula had a smug look on her face as Chez came back to her.

"Get your butt in the car," Chez said slamming his driver's side door shut.

When they were gone, Yani stood on the balcony trying to keep it together.

"Yani?"

Twyla came out to be with her.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. He just…" She held up the money.

"Fuck them," Twyla said.

"What did I ever see in him?"

"Don't drag yourself. You were young and in love. Just like many people. He fucked it up by being a jerk. That's not your fault."

Yani held Sydette close to her heart.

No matter what Twyla said, Yani would always feel like loving him was her fault. Her fault for choosing him willingly.

And now her baby had to suffer.

###

Zachary had gone to the bathroom when the man with the dark flashy eyes approached Yani by one of the big speakers near the make-shift stage inside of Rush. He wasn't white, or Latin as his swarthy skin and wavy dark hair suggested. He was dressed like he had money…plenty of it. He was a little tipsy, but in a cute flirty way.

"You are a Goddess and I want to marry you," he said. His voice had an accent like he was from one of those places that always had America fighting. Iran? Saudi Arabia? Iraq?

"I'm sorry, but I am taken," she said. She gave him a smile when his face looked hurt by the response.

"If I told you I needed you tonight, would you come with me?"

The man's eyes were shiny and the mirth in his voice made Yani laugh instead of flicking him aside like a mosquito.

"If you ever change your mind, Goddess, I am here for you."

He gave an exaggerated bow and Yani walked past him to greet her cousins who had all arrived in a pack, shifting the energy in the room with Galibar essence. Their family was well-known, and it was easy to move in the space knowing family was around looking out for her.

Hands on her waist spun her around and Zachary pulled her in for a hug. He was happy and excited to be out with her, constantly pulling her out onto the center of the dance floor so people could see them. It was nice to be with a man who was proud to be with her. Their dinner together had been perfect, the food excellent, and when they arrived at the club Yani felt more like herself again. She wasn't a mommy, or someone's girlfriend, or some worker bee running from job to job…she was just Yani and hanging out with grown-ups, responsible for no one but herself.

She dressed like a star. New make-up she saved up for. Gold choker on her throat. A long yellow dress she ordered online from the States that had cute green and red shapes on it that made her skin look bronzed by the sun. She did feel like a Goddess as her dress flowed around her hips with a small slit at the bottom that gave a tiny peek of her left leg. She even let her cleavage show just straight feeling herself. She allowed herself to drink liquor knowing she had milk bottled at home for Sydette for the next day. She was going to savor this night for a long time.

She extended hugs to her relatives and friends who hadn't seen her out in months. Compliments flowed and Zachary constantly hyped her up. When other men stared at her, Zachary's chest puffed out with pride. She liked how he was secure with thirsty eyes on her.

Rush was filled with gorgeous women, and Yani was happy that she could feel pretty again, not schlepping around in her usual sneakers and sweatpants. Her gold lace-up sandals gave her toes a little trouble at first, but now she was used to them as she moved with Zachary.

Wall to wall patrons crammed into the space and she was happy that Kendall would have an enthusiastic crowd to hear him live.

"Let me have my cousin," Dex said grabbing Yani's hand and taking her over to Monice and Twyla. Zachary nodded and watched her be ushered near the side of the bar.

"Kendall is having a panic attack," Dex said.

"What?" she said.

"He's over by the D.J. booth. I tried talking him down, but he's super nervous and says he can't remember his setlist, and one of his singers isn't coming…he's in a panic. I told Dex to find you," Twyla said.

"Jesus Christ," she said.

Yani waved Zachary over.

"Kendall is losing it, I have to talk to him," she said.

"Want me to go with you?" Zachary asked.

"Yeah, he needs some cheerleaders right now," Yani said.

She held Zachary's hand as she pushed past dancers, the deep bass in the club vibrating through her body. She could see her poor sweet cousin Kendall leaned up against the D.J. booth, his eyes closed and his hands balled into fists. Yani knew the butterflies of pre-performance jitters, but she learned early on to use her nerves to give a good performance. But Kendall was new to this, accustomed to backing other people on stage, not being the center of attention on his own. She hoped he could get through this because a ton of people paid money to come see a show, and he was one of the headliners. His first time being that. It would be a disaster if he couldn't get it together.

"Oh! It's my Goddess again! Here is that vision I was telling you about-!"

That guy again.

Oh shit.

He wasn't alone.

Yani halted in her tracks when she saw Erik sitting next to the Arab man at the bar. Locs cornrowed on his head, eyes relaxed from the drink in his hand, Erik's gaze took her in like he didn't recognize her. Something flickered in his eyes and he leaned forward, his free hand reaching out like he was going to touch her until he saw Zachary next to her.

"Killmonger," she heard herself say.

"The fuck yuh doin' here?!"

Chez's voice almost made her legs buckle when he stalked over to her and grabbed her elbow.

A nightmare made real.

Yani stood still, her eyes darting between three men who were aware of one another and sizing one another up.

"Hey, what is this?" the dark-haired Arab man with the reverent voice said.

Yani grimaced when she felt Chez's fingers digging into her skin. He was pulling her away from Zachary, his hot eyes raking up and down her body taking in how she was dressed.

Yani released her hand from Zachary's and placed it on Chez's arm to try and pry him off. He wouldn't let go, his grip tightening. It hurt.

Erik stood up.

"Take your hand off her."

Erik's voice sounded deadly like it could kill someone in seconds with the terse tone.

His friend stood up with him, feeding into the warning energy Erik gave off. At that moment, Yani knew the Arab man was one of Klaue's men too. Chez had no clue who was confronting him.

"Mind yours, breh. This my baby's mother—"

"—don't give a fuck who she is to you. Back off her—"

Yani's eyes went to Zachary and he stood there not sure what to do, confused as to who Erik was and why he was intruding.

"I need to talk to Kendall!" she shouted shoving Chez away from her. She stomped away from them all. She could hear Erik and Chez going back and forth and when she glanced behind her, she saw her cousin Dex and Dulan pulling Chez away from Erik who was smiling at Chez, his thick neck moving side to side like he was ready to body her ex.

Zachary was right behind her, his face stressed.

"You know he was here?" Zachary asked.

"Why should I care?"

"Who was that other guy? He acted like he knows you—"

"Kendall!"

Yani touched her cousin's neck and his eyes flew open.

"Yani. I feel like I want to throw up," he whispered.

"Calm yourself. It's okay. This is normal—"

"No, it don't feel normal."

"Tell me your songs," she said.

"Bumper…um…Phase Two…Crash Land…She Sez…"

"Good, you know the order and everything. What happened to your back-up?"

"Gloria is here, but Asha is a no show. I go on in ten minutes and Gloria doesn't want to go up without Asha—"

"That's some bullshit," Twyla said easing up next to Kendall and handing him a cup of ice water. She made him drink and rubbed his back. They both could see Kendall calming down.

"Do you have music with their voices already recorded?" Yani asked.

"No."

"Where is Gloria?" Yani asked.

Kendall shrugged.

Yani glanced around the club looking for Gloria. Zachary stood near her, his face looking flustered.

"What?"

"You're not worried about Chez starting something again?" Zachary asked.

"My cousins will snatch him up if he tries something again. Don't worry about him—"

"You still didn't answer me about that other guy—"

"What other guy?" Yani said still scanning the crowd for Kendall's singer.

"The big dude—"

"Zachary, I'm trying to help Kendall, okay?"

"What is Gloria wearing?" he asked.

"She has on one of my shirts, red with me on my motorcycle. She has a big afro…" said Kendall.

"I'll go look," Zachary said.

"Thank you, Zachary," Yani said. She squeezed his arm and watched him leave.

She could see the patrons positioning themselves closer to the stage.

"Hey, Kendall, we doing alright?"

The club D.J., Junior leaned over from his booth, worry on his face.

"He's fine!" Yani said making her voice sound cheerful.

"What?! Yani!" Junior said stepping down from his spot in the booth.

He gave Yani a big hug.

"You look good!" he said.

"Here for my cousin," she said looking over at Kendall, encouraging him to perk up more.

"Are your girls ready Kendall? I have hot mics ready for them. We go on in five—"

"Found her!" Zachary said ushering Gloria back over. The girl looked petrified.

"Kendall, I can't go up by myself—"

"You have to, he needs you to start the song to introduce him!" Twyla interjected, the peevishness in her voice hard to ignore.

"It won't sound right with just me—"

"Make it sound right, you're not gonna fuck up my cousin's show little girl," Twyla said getting into Gloria's face.

"Twyla, that's not helping her—" Yani said.

"Show goes on now, you doing this or not Kendall?"

Junior was all business.

Kendall's eyes sought out Yani.

"Gloria, please, this is where you have to be professional. The show goes on even if part of your crew isn't here. You can't let Kendall down," Yani said.

"Gloria, please," Kendall said.

"Kendall, it's time," Junior said climbing back into the booth. He held out a mic for Kendall and Gloria.

Gloria reached for the mic and Yani felt a sigh of relief flow through her.

"Are you ready for some great music?" Junior called out on his mic as he punched keys on his computer cueing up Kendall's tracks. A roar of "Yes!" came back from the crowd.

Yani held her hands clasped together in front of her silently praying that all things would work in Kendall's favor. Gloria had the mic in her hand, but she looked like she was ready to run.

Junior dropped Kendall's opening track and the room absolutely jumped with the massive bassline. Yani felt her cheeks pull tight as she smiled hard. The track was slapping so good. Gloria stepped forward and started humming, her lackluster energy killing the vibe already.

"Ohmigod, this bitch!" Twyla shouted.

"Give her a chance," Yani said as she bit into her lip, her own nerves scattered when she saw Gloria tanking the performance before it even began.

There were titters from the crowd and many of the people who had been swinging when the beat first dropped now stood still trying to figure out how it all went so wrong in fifteen seconds.

"Give me that goddamn mic you stupid girl!" Twyla said racing onto the platform that was used for the stage.

"Yani, c'mon," Twyla said shoving Gloria aside, "give me back again," Twyla said to Junior who synced the music back to the beginning.

Yani shook her head at Twyla.

"Yani…" Kendall whispered.

Kendall's eyes were wild-looking, his nerves frayed, and at that moment, Yani knew she had to do whatever it took to salvage this for him.

She stepped onto the stage and grabbed a mic that Junior held out for her. The music rattled the walls once more and the club lights lit up and heated her face. She quickly focused on what she needed to do. This was Kendall's first track…"Bumper"…an ode to asses. She heard Kendall rap to this track for weeks, had to hear the hook being sung every damn day she came home from work while he was in the shower.

Twyla wound her hips to the dancehall-tinged track and when her eyes met Yani's, she nodded her head and they both faced the audience and gave Kendall a proper introduction.

###

Tahir had been mumbling about some woman he saw when he went to the restroom, but Erik found himself trying to avoid Isis, the girl he slept with at the Marriott.

She spotted him at the bar and Erik made sure to stay cordial, but she was cramping his style by hanging off of him the way women did after he messed with them. She looked amazing in her peek-a-boo skintight white dress and red heels, but he was not feeling her at all. Even when he introduced her to Tahir who was extremely good-looking, Isis stuck to him like cops on a niggas ass. He was already pulling women that could help him get through his stay on the island, but this bird was clucking too much.

He went dancing with a random girl who walked past him and Isis still didn't get the hint. Finally, he was just straight up with her saying he was just trying to have fun with his friend and wasn't interested in hooking up that night. She was buzzing from drinking rum and his words didn't seem to halt her advances until he physically left her at one side of the main bar and moved with Tahir on the other side.

Tahir was in island heaven, his eyes taking in all the sights of bright lights, heavy Soca and Hip Hop beats, and the thickolicious women roaming the club, so many of them single.

"I swear to you she must be in the employ of a jinn, her eyes…may Allah bless me with a wife with eyes like that…. Oh! It's my Goddess again! Here is that vision I was telling you about-!"

Tahir shoved Erik's shoulder and he turned to see Yani walking toward them. When she stopped in front of them Erik thought fate was fucking with him because she had just crossed his mind again, him wondering if she was out on the floor dancing or on her way to the club. His eyes couldn't release her from their hold as he saw what she looked like outside of cleaning and cooking for the compound. It was her, totally her, but she was just so…

He couldn't even figure out the words before he was reaching out to touch her, wanting to already pull her into his arms and keep her next to him. But then he saw her fingers entwined with a man standing behind her.

He heard her say his name, not the one he wanted her to call him, but the one he hid behind, and she still made the harshness of it sound so sweet to his ears. He longed to pull on the straps of her dress, slip one down from her shoulder and place his lips on the skin there. The gold choker on her neck made him want to place his hand there and squeeze, push her against a wall and pull up the gauzy dress she wore that made her curves too visible for his comfort. He knew what was under that dress and he wanted to see it again. See it on his bed, her legs stretched open wall to wall, her big eyes looking up at him when he entered her heat…

Before he could even gather himself and act chill, (as if the sight of her with some other man didn't bother him when it clearly did agitate him), another dude was yelling at Yani, man-handling her as if he owned her.

Erik saw Yani grimace and that was it.

When she broke away from her baby's father, he wanted to follow her, but the other guy she was with trailed behind her and the baby daddy started to act buck with Erik.

"You ain't gon' do shit, bruh," Erik told him, even laughing at dude when he started flexing for the crowd, but not really trying to go there with Erik. Two other men came over and pulled the man away, calling him "Chez" and Erik made a mental note to check the guy out. He was so quick to come down on Yani, Erik got the feeling the dude was trouble and could retaliate.

"You know her?" Tahir finally said when the commotion calmed down.

"She works at the compound for Klaue."

Tahir's eyes perked up, but when he glanced at Erik, he got the hint that she was off-limits.

He sat back and sipped on his rum again, his eyes scanning for Yani and spotting her near the D.J. booth talking to some people. A huge banger thumped through the speakers and Erik head-bobbed with everyone else as they all watched a cute woman climb onstage. She started humming and then her voice faded under the music.

Did she forget the words or something?

Another woman came on stage and snatched the mic from the first girl and told the D.J. to start the song over. That slamming intro whopped everyone over the head again, and this time he watched Yani climb onstage and join the new girl and they sang a hook that made the crowd go buck wild.

Shit. They sounded good, Better than good.

"Is that my Goddess again?" Tahir squeaked, bouncing on his feet.

Erik stood up and rocked along with the club patrons. The smokey deeper alto of the other singer cradled Yani's honey voice, the harmonies flowing to a young dude who bounced on stage, his energy high and infectious as he spit bars that elevated the music even more. Kendall. Erik yanked out his cell and began recording for Leona.

"Fucking incredible," Tahir said nodding his head and raising his hand when Kendall told the crowd to.

Yani and the other woman rocked behind him as Kendall extolled the virtues of why he loved a woman's ass. Yani and the woman bounced their ass cheeks to the beat, turning sideways so the audience could see what they had, and Erik felt a groan clamp down in his throat watching Yani stick her tongue out playfully and shake her cheeks low, her left hand clutching the hem of her dress as she showed everyone the outline of high-grade shelf booty.

The first song ended and Kendall introduced Yani and his other cousin Twyla. Both women bowed to the audience and stood behind Kendall as he went into another song that was just as good.

The kid was good, a little shaky on his transitions, but he held the audience pretty well. The second song didn't have a need for Twyla or Yani, so they just danced together being excellent hype women for their cousin who had pretty decent bars and clever delivery. The last two songs they joined back in and when Kendall was done with his set, he received hearty applause and whistles from the crowd.

"Now we have to pay our respects people…," the D. J. said, "Yani…Yani…come back up here love."

Yani took to the stage again as Kendall stood next to her beaming.

"Yani sang on Tattler's mixtape two years ago, and was on Big C's song 'Recognize Me', yuh remember? She's our Black mermaid!"

Murmurs from the crowd let him know they knew those tracks.

"Yani, take us back for a minute girl…please…"

The D. J. dropped a tune and the crowd shouted. Yani covered her face as Kendall laughed and patted her back. It was a hybrid of dancehall and a tiny bit of dub.

"I came here to watch my cousin perform and chill with my family Junior!" she said.

"For old times sake, Yani. We've missed you, love. Sincerely. You a real one."

The D.J.'s words triggered something in her and Yani covered her eyes. She burst out crying. Erik stepped forward wanting to touch her face and wipe those tears away, but Kendall stepped up and rubbed her back, whispering something in her ear.

"We love you, Yani!"

A woman's shout from the crowd, made Yani lift her head up.

Erik put his cell phone down.

"You got this, Yani!" Erik yelled at her. Yani's face gazed back toward his direction and the audience agreed with him by clapping for her.

"Turn me up," she said to the D.J. and he made her mic a little louder, "Can I freestyle? I don't want to sing that old version. Mi nuh want anything that reminds me of my ex."

The crowd laughed.

"Do what you feel, Yani," the D.J. said.

The music brought her back and Erik knew she couldn't see him, not with those bright ass lights on her face, but she stayed gazing out in his direction.

"Yuh my likkle water boy,

Wind me up like I'm yuh brand new toy

Yuh bring new kinds of joy

And me wahn some more

Wull on pon me

Wull on pon me

Wull on pon me and take away all me stress…"

Her flow had him moving his hips along with everyone else.

"Did you know she could do that?" Tahir asked, his fingers popping and his feet bouncing side to side.

"Her Aunt said she sang," Erik said, mesmerized.

"Me wahn to peel yuh like some fresh ripe fruit

Lick you down like my Auntie's soup

Got me pattin' on my kitty cat

Me suspect

You wahn grip my neck

Lookie,

I'll let you whisper me the rest

I promise this no test

Stop makin me vex

Come wull pon me…."

Fuck.

She was singing to him.

Erik felt the hairs on his neck raise. Her voice was way too intimate and the lyrics too specific to be about anyone else other than him. Her tone was seductive and she hadn't changed the direction of her stance facing his way.

"Lookie

Won't you come over love

So I can show you love

Promise I got enough to give you all you need

Lookie

Some lovers search to find a love like mine

A love as good as mine

I'll never waste your time

Such a vibe…"

When she finished, she giggled and let the mic hit the side of her hip. Erik felt like everyone could see that the smile on his face was for her and only her. Kendall hugged her and the club patrons clapped.

"Give it up for Yani, the Black Mermaid, yeah!"

"She needs to be home takin' care of her pickney!"

Chez's voice rang out loud and rude.

Yani's head turned in his direction, and Erik felt ready to stomp the nigga out right in front of her.

"What kinda mother hang out in a club with tits out like that? Shame!"

"Fuck you!" Yani yelled out to him and the crowd laughed.

Erik spotted Chez leaning on the other side of the bar.

"Out here being a hoe. You no hot girl no more—"

The crowd heckled Chez back.

"It's ok, it's ok, him try to shame me. It not gon' work. You want this smoke, Chez? I give it to you. Junior, give me Chez's beat. That old Big C joint he couldn't make pop."

Yani stepped to the edge of the stage.

"Run that beat back fuh mi," she said, "I see you. I got your hoe right here."

Chez threw his hands up egging her on.

"What you got for me, huh, bitch? What? You got nothin'!"

Erik felt his jaw clench.

"And dis a wah mi get fi understand Seh yuh cya keep yuh dick inna yuh pants Yuh think seh fucking every gyal mek yuh feel more like a man Yuh supposed to be my right hand, my go to And nobody nuh fi come to me about you Cause when yuh down, I lift you up I keep you moving when yuh stuck Yuh ma nigga you supposed to be my goku Or my best friend, who yuh texting Everyday yuh seh dem gyal yah upsetting But I'm patiently waiting Because anuh my time dem wasting Anuh my time dem wasting

Yuh tired dickhole

Pack up and leave if yuh nuh want mi Cause mi honestly rather be lonely Yuh nav nuh time fi me, yuh all fi yuh self, I see Pack up and leave if yuh nuh want mi Cause mi honestly rather be lonely Yuh nav nuh time fi we

No time fi Sydette or mi…"

Erik shoved his fist up to his mouth along with everyone else in the club as heads turned in Chez's direction.

"See, that's what happens when you come for me," Yani said.

She handed the mic back to Junior and stepped away from the stage with Kendall's arm thrown around her neck. The laughter was ferocious and it cut Chez deep, especially when she mentioned Sydette at the end.

Erik strolled over to the man to keep an eye on him, but Chez turned around and stormed out of the club with his boys.

He watched Yani get pats on the back and hugs as she made her way over to the bar. When her eyes caught him again, he thought he would have a chance to talk to her, but her boyfriend entwined his fingers with hers and took her out to dance.

Erik grabbed the nearest woman's hand and pulled her out on the floor with him.

Anything to be near Yani...

###

Part 5  [Part 6]

Authors Note: Lyrics that Yani spits is stuff I made up mixed with actual Jada Kingdom songs, “Wull On” and “Love Situations”.

Tag List:

@fonville-designs​ @soufcakmistress  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone @allhailqueennel @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky @raysunshine78 @the-illllest @terrablaze514  @l-auteuse @amirra88 @jimizwidow

#killmonger #killmonger fic #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger fanfic #killmonger smut #njadaka #njadaka fanfiction #erik stevens #erik stevens fanfic #black panther #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #klaue #ulysses klaue fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #killmonger imagine #wakandacon2019 #wakandacon

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 2 of 30]

Summary: Erik opts to keep his distance from Yani and focus on Klaue and getting to Wakanda. Erik also meets his new temporary roommate...

NSFW. Mature audience only. As always, thanks for reading and please comment/reblog if you enjoy the series. Hi new readers, happy to meet you on this new Erik journey. Part 3 on the way....

"To every hundred niggas that came and gone missing Only a handful will go the distance I swear I seen this shit coming as if I was living up under the plumbing While niggas was riffing and mumbling 'bout, what they could do I was cooking gumbo whipping the voodoo I was in the jungle running with Zulu's We was looking past the struggle while life was moving so fast You had to be shopping at Ginsu To the top of the food group Doing what I want and how I should too

Stepped in the waters The water was cold Chi in my body But it didn't touch my soul Stepped in the waters The water was cold…"

Anderson.Paak – "The Waters"

He tells her his name, his real name, and the girl who talked to animals allowed her big wide eyes to ease up on their sharpness.

Yani sat back and allowed the water to catch her back as her body disappeared under the small wave of balmy liquid that lifted her away from him. Erik stayed put, watching her backstroke away from him and further out into the sea. He wanted to follow her, felt his toes grip the sand under his feet to cast off after her, but he felt stalkerish and remained where he was.

She was real.

Yemanjá.

Erik felt the blood in his body coursing through him, the thrumming of searing red in his veins making him clench and unclench his fists.

Disǎ.

He sat back in the water and let it buoy him up, his eyes following the path of Yani's body swimming. He found it odd that he could look at this woman and think of his ex-girlfriend Disǎ who he left behind in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

No, maybe it wasn't odd, because the way he was reacting to this young woman treading about in open water was the same way he reacted to his first love…Disǎ.

The voice.

Like Yani, Erik had only heard Disǎ's voice before he met her, and something about the tone, the lilt, the inflections, the sonic soothing he received from it made him weak for her before he even saw her face. He felt a weight drift down on him. He put Disǎ through hell, denied her things that she wanted, made promises he couldn't keep, and she left him. Refused to connect with him ever again. Walking into that relationship had been an exercise in self-flagellation. Love was something he never sought out because he knew he was not made to love and settle down.

He was a mover, a nomad…he had no real home, not really, no place to lay his head and call his own. Rootless. He had to be rootless in order to finish the path that had been laid out for him. A path that started when he found his father dead in his apartment. Dead and alone.

Erik had to keep himself emotionally dead inside and alone too. All that love ever did for him was rend his body in half and grind his bones into dust. So he knew something was wrong when he heard Yani's voice speaking to a damn lizard in a tree, recognized the tell-tale signs of that dangerous pursuit into madness. He had only ever felt that way before with his ex. All that fucking back and forth with Disǎ when he graduated from M.I.T., joined the Navy, made Special Ops, and then headed into the work of a mercenary for a greater good…it stripped away a relationship he held dear and couldn't hold onto because he was never around. And that feeling, that feeling of wanting someone was seducing his conscious mind as he watched this girl swim.

Life was about choices.

And sometimes choices meant letting things be.

The heat and the dazzling sunlight and the beauty of the pale blue sea were probably just fucking with him anyway. Plus, he hadn't gotten his dick wet in a long time, and to come across a woman with a body like that…naked, on an isolated beach…well shit, no wonder he was feeling punch drunk with lust.

Nigga, get your shit together.

Yani wasn't feeling him anyway, every time she looked at him it was like she had an extra sour lemon in her mouth.

Erik dragged himself out of the water and put his trunks back on.

He didn't bother to look back at her when he left.

###

After lunch, Klaue left a message on Erik's cell to meet him in the third house. His private abode.

Erik meandered down the compound walkway toward the house. It was perched closer to the edge of the hillside overlooking the sea. Erik caught breathtaking views and when he entered the house after a retinal scanner cleared him, he felt like he was entering an ancient Zulu enclave. Nothing in the house matched the light-colored airy Caribbean theme of the other houses. The dark shadowed interior of dark-grained wood and dark furniture enveloped South African artwork, with a plethora of large carved wooden masks, and plenty of drums. Djembes, dunduns, a three drum bata set, bougarabous…

Erik stepped in front of a djembe and rubbed his fingers across the skin. His fingers ticked up and he began beating out the rhythms he learned as a child from his Uncle Bakari when he used to drum for his grandfather and mother when they taught capoeira back in Oakland. The heel of the palm, then his fingers struck the skin harder, faster, and the acoustics picked up the sound and drowned the room with the ferocity he slapped down.

Erik rocked his shoulders and let his head droop forward, his locs flopping over his eyes as he allowed the drum vibrations to move through him. He let his head bob as he remembered days back in Oakland on school lunch tables, pounding out beats with his fists when there were no drums, or finding the hollow parts in his chest or thigh when he would strike his own body with his open palm to create the percussive boom bap to help his childhood friends spit bars in ragtag cyphers. He felt the moist sensation in his mouth as he shaped his lips to beatbox in time to his drumming. It all came back to him vividly, joyfully, and he couldn't help the curling of his bottom lip as he bit into it, thinking of his days running the streets, just being hood wild and free.

He ended the cadence with a slowing down of his hands until only his fingertips were caressing the edges of the drum.

"Well look at you."

Klaue's voice brought him out of his reverie and Erik stepped away from the djembe.

"Hope that wasn't some artifact," Erik said.

Klaue shrugged and headed over to a round old-world wooden globe. He pulled the top back and inside of the globe was a hidden bar filled with various liquors and libations.

"Share a whiskey?" Klaue asked.

"Sure."

Klaue poured them healthy amounts in crystal tumblers and handed one to Erik.

"Interesting décor."

"I wanted to have a bit of home away from home. Of all my hideaways, this place is my favorite."

"It's pretty sweet. Quiet too."

"Not for much longer. Once everyone is here, I'll need you to keep your foot on their necks."

"Newbies?"

"Most you know from the Kabul job. Is your man Tahir still a no show?"

Erik took a deep drag of the whiskey. It was aged to perfection. He let a bit of it linger over his teeth before swallowing.

"They still got him on that no-fly list. He's chillin' in Damascus. He can do any other jobs you got, but Africa is a no go."

"Too bad. Good man. And that is what we need. Good men."

Erik studied Klaue's face.

"What's the problem?"

Klaue glanced at him.

"You can always read me so quick. It's Huntsman. I really don't want to use him, but I can't find anyone else with experience on the borders."

"Tahir will probably be tied up the next six months—"

"Too long to wait."

"W'sup with Huntsman?"

"He has issues…with you."

"That's his problem. He don't even know me."

"Ah, but he knows your reputation. Something about you sticks in his craw."

"You don't have to use him."

"With no Tahir available, I'm afraid I do. Unless you have someone else."

"Nah. I culled away my last team. I only have three that I stick with now and we freelance for DynCorp most jobs. Those guys are already under contract."

"Timing is key with these next two jobs."

"You still toying with using submersibles?"

"I will need our pretty blue metal for that."

The holy grail. Vibranium.

"I got some leads that I hope will pan out soon," Erik said. He could sense Klaue chomping at the bit.

He really did have some leads.

One was from a friend of his mother's who worked with the British Museum. She had passed on some information about some museum exchanges up on the horizon, a collection of fifteenth-century West African armaments and masks. It wasn't the collection he was looking for, but it was part of an exchange program originating out of Benin. Erik and Klaue would be heading to Angola in a month to set up an arms deal and then slip into the Northeastern part of Nigeria to covertly meet with some members of Boko Haram and the Nigerian government. Klaue played both sides of every deal he made. Erik planned on slipping into Benin and checking out the newly constructed Royal Benin Museum. His research uncovered plans for the museum to start receiving indigenous stolen art on a rotating basis from European museums that held plundered artwork from an 1897 British invasion in Dahomey. Erik needed to see for himself if any pieces contained vibranium.

His tongue gently tapped against his tattoo inside his lower bottom lip. He could feel the irritating cutaneous sensation tickling his gums from the traces of vibranium used in the vibram tattoo ink. The itchy tickling only happened when he was near pure vibranium. Like the pure vibranium emanating from Klaue's prosthetic arm.

Klaue picked up the whiskey bottle again and Erik took another half tumbler of the dark amber liquid.

"I want you to move down here in this house when all the men are here. There are some conversations we need to have in private."

Erik didn't question him. It took him this long to be invited to stay at any of his safe houses. That meant that he was now part of the trusted inner circle. He would just have to watch out for Huntsman. He was Klaue's boy for the last seven years, but Erik was aiming to be the only righthand man. Getting to the safe house was the culmination of meticulous, deliberate, and patient planning. Their first meeting in Iraq gave the man an intro to who Killmonger was. They didn't meet again until an arms deal in Kosovo proved fruitful when Erik's new team was able to assist Klaue through a mutual trustworthy middle man. It was then that Erik first showed Klaue a small amount of vibranium he stole from some arms dealers he tracked down to a small forgotten village in Iraq.

Erik ignored Klaue after that, turned him down for several jobs before Klaue started hinting that he may need to return to Wakanda and steal again. Then and only then did Erik drop word that he was down for any excursions into his father's country. The two men teamed up within months to help one another scour the earth for any pockets of vibranium they could find. On those missions, they only worked with each other and two other men, Tahir and one of Klaue's boys, a fellow South African who asked very little about the blue magic. A year later, Erik was now sipping brown liquor in the man's private home.

"Let's take a walk," Klaue said.

Erik followed him down a pathway that led to another section of beach hidden from where Yani's cove jutted out.

Klaue took off his sandals and his feet touched the sand.

"Hot!" he said slipping the sandals back on.

Erik's flip-flops felt too thin for the sand in this particular area that was littered with a few broken seashells.

"What do you want out of life, Killmonger?"

Erik stared at Klaue. The whites of the man's eyes were a little pink, and there were tiny spiderwebs of broken blood vessels cresting his nose. The man did like the sauce a little too much. Erik had personally witnessed him overconsuming alcoholic beverages to the point of falling over and having to be carried off by Erik or his other men.

"Money. What else?" he answered.

Klaue let his eyes trace the horizon of ocean before him.

"You know, at one time I was a billionaire."

"Really? How you fuck that up?"

Klaue guffawed and his laughter made him rock back in his sandals and clutch Erik's arm for balance, spilling a little of his drink on the sand.

"I sold my entire cache of vibranium to a Tony Stark creation."

Erik's eyes fixed on Klaue. He had a history with Tony Stark himself, but he didn't let on about it.

"I was operating out of an old shipping tanker in Johannesburg. Had my entire supply of vibranium warehoused there. Perfect set up. And then these fucking enhanced bastards show up with this thing…"

Klaue's right wrist rubbed his left arm while still holding his drink. His eyes grew course looking and his accent flared up.

"I'm no fool. I make a deal and billions are dropped into my offshore accounts. I'm set. Ready to retire and live out the rest of my life here. But then Sokovia goes down, and fucking Stark goes back and…."

Klaue's jawline clenched tight and his left arm closed up his mechanical fist.

"Billions wiped out. Like it never happened. And I'm left to start all over again."

"You kept your entire supply in one spot?"

Erik wanted to laugh at the man, but Klaue was tipsy, and a tipsy Klaue could get agitated and rachet up to bastard behavior in mere seconds.

"I had a fortress set up on that tanker. It was safe. After everything was taken away, I learned of a small portion hidden away in what I thought was a discreet location…"

"The Mosul statues…"

"I still don't know who really took it. S.H.I.E.L.D. maybe. The Pentagon. Perhaps even that ass Stark…fucking Iron Man…Iron Prick."

Klaue raised up his tumbler toward Erik's face.

"When I ask you what you want, Killmonger, I need to know the God's honest truth, because when I finish off these next few jobs, I'm going back to the source. With your skills and mine, we could steal even more vibranium than the first time I went in. I'm the only person who went into Wakanda…and lived to tell the story."

Erik's jaw clenched.

The first time Klaue went in.

With the help of his father, Prince N'Jobu, a man who only wanted to bring the vibranium out to help his woman and her people. All those in the diaspora.

Erik gulped down all of his whiskey.

Focus.

Erik fought back the whispers in his mind to kill Klaue where he stood. Because of this cretin, his father was killed. Because of this shit stain of a human, his father was unable to save his mother. Because of this devil, his family had been destroyed.

"What's the story on that place?" Erik asked.

"It's my white whale. But that's a story for another day. I want to talk Angola logistics now."

Erik wrenched his eyes away from Klaue and gazed out at the water. He had to hold onto his mental acuity. His own temper could carry him over the edge and destroy all of his plans. This was the long game. He had to hold on and not give in to the rage festering in his belly. He couldn't wait to crush this weak maggot. And like his Uncle, King T'Chaka, Erik would take great pleasure in destroying Ulysses Klaue.

###

Yani stood by the intercom at the front gate. The guard on duty, Jamie, watched her try her best to carry on a discreet conversation with her cousin Kendall who stood on the other side of the gate.

"Twyla just said she couldn't watch her today. C'mon now Yani, take your baby!"

Yani could hear her Sydette babbling a mile a minute behind the thick metal divide.

"Can you keep her for me, just for a couple of hours? I have to finish one more house and then I can leave," Yani said, the pleading in her voice not moving Kendall one way or the other.

"I would if I could, but I'm going to hang out with Bunny and Gregory. They might let me record some things at their place. I can't have a baby there with me. You know they smoke—"

"Kendall, please—"

"Yani, I can't watch you pickney. Sir, please open the gate."

Yani and Jamie could see Kendall on the security viewscreen holding Sydette in her car seat with her baby bag slung on his shoulder.

Yani's eyes glanced at Jamie.

"Open the gate please, Jamie," Yani said, defeat and weariness in her voice.

Jamie punched in the gate code and it slid open.

"I'm sorry, Yani," Kendall said. His deep dark chestnut skin was shiny and he sported a fresh baldie cut. He shoved Sydette's car seat handle into her hand and Yani grabbed the baby bag.

Kendall ran back to his idling work truck and hopped in with gardening equipment uncovered in the rear.

"Don't be late tomorrow. Tell Freddie Mr. Klaue wants the trees and the bushes by the front and middle house trimmed."

Kendall just waved and drove off, his truck backfiring as he left.

Yani rubbed her hand gently over her daughter's soft dainty curls. Sydette was sweating from the heat, the dampness making her baby hairs stick to her scalp.

"Mommy is glad to see you, but I have to work. I need you to be a good girl today for me. Yeah?"

Jamie gave her a serious look.

"Don't tell anyone she's here, please Jamie? I don't want to cause my Auntie trouble."

Jamie nodded and Yani scurried with her daughter to the apartment under the first house.

Leona was feeding dirty sheets and towels into the washing machine. A huge stack of clean sheets waited to be folded and put away.

"Auntie," Yani said with Sydette clutching her chest.

"What she doing here?"

Yani felt her spirit sink from the sound of her Aunt's annoyed voice.

"Kendall brought her. Twyla can't watch her today and he has somewhere to be so he can't keep her for me—"

"Call your mother—"

"You know I can't do that—"

"What you expect me to do?"

"Can she stay up here with you? I need to finish the second house—"

"And I need to finish this bedding and get ready for dinner. You have to take her with you."

Yani sucked her teeth. Sydette balled up her fist and sucked on it then dropped her head down on Yani's left breast and tried to suck through the t-shirt. Leona gave a sympathetic look but then continued putting sheets into the washer.

Moving swiftly back to the middle house, Yani entered it slowly.

"Inside," she called stepping in and looking around. Thank God, no one was there. The soft bristle broom she was using to sweep the floor was leaning against the couch. She tossed the baby bag on the floor near the couch and plopped her butt down with the car seat. Sydette's saliva had soaked Yani's shirt.

"Hold on, gyal," Yani said hoisting up her shirt and releasing her left breast. Sydette latched on her nipple and Yani cradled her head and watched her daughter suckle like she was starving.

"I know I left you plenty of milk with cousin Twyla. Why you so greedy? Huh? Where you put it all?"

Sydette's cheeks puffed and hallowed as she fed on Yani. A thousand thoughts went through Yani's head. What if Twyla couldn't watch Sydette over the weekend? She had plans to go out, the first time in a long time. Her cousin Kendall was set to perform for the first time in a club that hadn't seen Yani's face since she first got pregnant with Sydette. She didn't even have to sneak into it anymore now that she was finally of legal age. It was a tourist trap for sure, but the D.J.s there were really good and played a good mixture of Hip Hop, Soca and other types of music that she enjoyed.

She couldn't be too mad at Kendall. He really wanted to make music and the local producers Bunny and Gregory were giving him a chance to record something. They helped her baby's father get his first and only record deal. Maybe her own cousin could do better and go further.

Sydette's lips slowed down, her sucking not as desperate. Yani kept an eye out for Klaue's men in case they were returning. Wednesday was cleaning day for the compound, and the regulars knew to stay busy while she and Leona worked the place. There really wasn't too much to do, in Klaue's place or the first house, but Hunstman and Polk were slobs. She hated touching their sheets or towels because she once found obvious semen stains on them. Nasty.

Yani lifted Sydette up to check her diaper. She smelled okay and was dry, so no need to change her. When her eyes were drooping and her lips fell away from Yani's nipple, she was gently burped. Yani allowed her baby to sleep in her arms for a bit. She was tired herself, still thinking of all the things she had to do. Friday morning and afternoon she was scheduled to work her third job at the Eco Tours company giving kayak tours through the mangroves. Unlike Klaue's compound, she couldn't hold Sydette to her breasts while she paddled through mangroves and oversaw hermit crab races.

Something had to give soon, she was wearing herself out. And that something was Chez. She felt her stomach knot and tension crease her forehead as she thought of Sydette's wayward father. He paid no decent child support, promised to at least help with babysitting (which he never did), promised to seek better work so that she could drop one of her jobs and care for Sydette on her own and not pass her baby girl off to various relatives. It was hard not to hate Chez, especially since he had another baby with another woman only three months after Sydette was born. Worse still, he was living with that baby's mother and paying her rent while Yani had to share a bedroom with Sydette and Twyla.

She knew it was mean, but she was so happy that Sydette looked like her and not like him at all. She would hate to think how she would feel if she had to look down at a child on her tit who had that man's face, no matter how fine he was. And Chez was fine. And selfish. And a bully. And abusive at one time…

Yani shook her head from the thoughts. She needed to get the middle house clean and vacate the premises before Klaue or anyone knew she had a baby around. She had to coat the floor tiles with a protective tile cleaner that prevented sand and grout damage.

Just get through the next two hours.

She wished she could be back out in the warm water floating on her back. Naked. At peace. Alone. Not responsible for anyone or anything.

"Oh, Sydette. I wish I had done better. I wish I had done so much better."

She kissed her daughter's sweat-laden forehead. Standing up she turned on the air conditioning and tried to focus on the task at hand.

Two hours.

###

The middle house smelled clean and was quite cool when he entered it from spending time with Klaue. Erik kicked off his sandals and left them by the front door. The tile looked polished and a less dingy from when he first arrived. He was ready to relax and maybe lounge by the pool.

His mind was still calculating all the things he had spoken to Klaue about in planning their Angola run. The base of operation that they would work from in Angola still needed to be prepped and ready, the warehouse that was to be used to house the new crop of munitions and rocket-propelled grenades had recent fire damage, and when Erik looked at satellite photos of the landing strip where they would import the black market goods, he discovered an uneven and unsafe landing zone. Large potholes and depressions peppered the ground. There was a lot to take care of in a short period of time. A political problem sprang up also because of a new governor in the province who was flexing a bit of muscle to try and intimidate Klaue. This new guy was not playing the game of allowing their crew to circumvent the regulatory and oversight systems they were used to bypassing with monetary incentives to look away like previous government officials had done. Erik already decided if the man became a problem, he would nickel his brain and keep it pushing. Klaue had no problem with that. Erik knew how to dispose of problematic bodies and loose lips. He had the scars to prove it.

Erik turned down the air and went into his room. Taking off his shirt he folded it and placed it on the dresser by the window. He was about to power dive on the bed when he noticed a baby lying on it.

The hell.

The baby, a girl by the looks of the butterfly barrettes pinned to her curls, was sound asleep on her stomach, her backside up in there air a bit as if she woke up suddenly, moved, then fell right back to sleep.

He walked over to the side of the bed staring at her. He could hear someone moving in the kitchen, there was the sound of sink water rinsing down. Leona or Yani perhaps still working.

Erik crawled onto the covers trying not to rock the double bed too much with his big body. He laid back resting his head on a pillow. When he turned to look at the baby again, her eyes were open and she was staring at him. Looking about eight or nine months old, she didn't cry when she saw that a stranger was right next to her. Instead, she gave him the biggest toothless smile, a stream of slobber falling from her mouth onto the blanket, and he saw that she had dimples like him.

"Hey, Lil Mama. What's your name?" he whispered, making his voice as soft as he could. She babbled something and more clear saliva dribbled down her chin. Her chubby arms spread in front of her and she bounced her body and grunted like she needed help.

Erik reached over and picked her up and that startled her and her fat cheeks twisted up and she started crying.

"Aww, why the tears? We was cool just a second ago—"

"Sorry! Sorry!"

Yani swept into the room and scooped the baby out of his arms.

"I didn't think anyone was using this room. It was so clean. I didn't even touch it. Give me a few minutes and I can go through here—"

"Nah. I'm good. I clean my own room. You don't have to do all that for me. I'm self-sufficient."

"I wish the other men were like that."

He watched Yani's lips get tight after she said that.

"Don't tell them I said that."

"I didn't hear a thing. She yours?"

"Yeah."

"What's her name?"

"Sydette."

"She's cute. Looks like you."

"Thanks. We'll get out of your way—"

"You can leave her in here with me if you still need to finish. I think she finds me acceptable. She's not crying anymore."

He reached out and stroked the girl's cheek and Sydette touched his finger, then grabbed it.

"Sydette," Yani said pulling her hand away from Erik's finger.

Erik found himself staring at Yani's face.

"My babysitter fell through, so I had to take her…please don't say anything to the others. I'm not supposed to have her here while I'm working."

"Won't say a word."

"I'm done, so..."

"Will you be working here tonight?"

Why the hell did he ask that?

She had a baby, so obviously she had a man too…

"No. I have another job I do at night, and I need to leave now so I can get ready for that."

"Oh. Okay," he said.

He was still sitting on his bed, and she was holding her baby in front of him. He was feeling hella awkward. Sydette stared at him, and then she smacked her lips and turned back to Yani.

"Oh…Sydette!" Yani squealed when the baby started sucking on her chest, her head moving around searching for a nipple. Erik couldn't help but laugh. Yani lifted up Sydette's chin and the baby began to fret wanting her mother's milk with urgency. Erik stood up and walked into the living room, slipping on his flip flops and heading for the front door.

"I'ma let you handle that and give you some privacy. I'll be by the pool. Before I forget, I'll take the afternoon shift on the beach if you want to keep the mornings."

"Okay," she said.

Her daughter bounced in her arms and Erik could see a mixture of what looked like embarrassment and something else on Yani's face. Weariness.

He didn't see a ring on her finger. She worked two jobs too. She was probably still just a baby herself.

"Sorry about the room," she whispered. Her eyes looked watery like she was about to cry.

"Don't even trip. Sorry for being so neat. I felt like Goldilocks for a minute there."

He tried to lighten the mood for her.

"Goldilocks?" she asked.

"Muh…muh…muh…" Sydette said waving her chunky fingers in her mother's face.

"Someone's been sleeping in my bed because it was just right…the three bears…?" he said.

"Oh!" Yani said. Her face lit up and she smiled, her dark sloe eyes no longer welling with tears.

"Bye, Sydette," Erik cooed out. The baby could only focus on Yani's face, "Bye Yani."

He stepped back out into the sunlight and tried to shake the lingering need to stay in the same room as her. Her baby was so adorable. Sydette's dimples are what sold him. That initial gummy smile. The puffy little curls mashed down on one side of her head. Her little blue t-shirt that couldn't cover her fat little belly all the way. Her little outie belly button.

It was a tough job and he wasn't cut out to do that ever. Take care of a baby? Pfftt. It was probably why his mother only had him. Too much work. And Lil Mama looked like she could be a little pushy the way she was going for Yani's breasts.

Shit.

Erik sat on a lounger by the pool still wearing the trunks he had on that morning with an added t-shirt. He felt a thickening in his trunks, his dick getting a little chubby thinking about Yani's breasts that he saw down in the sea. No wonder they seemed extra ripe. She was full of milk and those big ass dark nipples of hers were making his shit tent in his shorts. Fuck.

Erik reached down and tugged on his bulge, trying to smooth it down from being too obvious. But the minute he touched it, a spark ran down his length, making him rock hard in seconds. No one was around. His eyes scanned the area to be sure and he grabbed the towel hanging behind his head and placed it over his lap. His right hand slipped under the covering. His trunks were loose enough where he could get access to his erection by lifting up a little of the swim trunk material from the bottom.

Damn, his dick was so hard, the thick head firm between his rough fingers. He kept his eyes open and alert for others as he replayed images of Yani in the water.

"That big fat ass…fuck…" he groaned low and into his chest as he plucked at his tip as it pressed against his thigh. The warm ooze of his pre-cum dripped down his leg. He felt his right leg jerk from the sensation. He could see the slight dimpling in her ass cheeks and that layer of fleshy softness around her belly that he loved on women. That space to place his head when he wanted to rest in softness. The faint lines of stretch marks he saw on the sides of her breasts made his mouth chuff, his breath revealing the arousal he got from staring at the beauty of skin breaking to make room for more…more thighs…more ass…more stomach…more big ass titties.

He imagined placing his length in between her breasts and fucking the shit out of her tits, pinching those nipples, making his balls squeeze out a hot thick nut that would drench her neck and chin—

"Oooooh shit!" He gasped as he felt heavy spurts shoot all over his leg and the towel covering him. His eyes rolled back and he was left wondering if that big nut happened because he hadn't had pussy in so long, or if this girl put a spell on his dick. The fuck he look like beating his meat by a pool over some young baby mama he just met? Fuck outta here with all that.

He needed to get out. Go to a bar or club and be around some grown ass child-free bitches. Get his dick wet properly. Chase that nut the right way.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and headed out toward the beach again. Yani was leaving and he could have the cove to himself to rinse the cum smeared all over his leg away. His trunks were soaked with it.

Damn.

From now on he was going to focus on Angola, getting that airstrip ready for Klaue in the next two weeks, and finding a way to get Tahir to St. Thomas.

New rules: Stay the fuck away from Yani.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]   [Part 4]  [Part 5]  [Part 6]

Tag List:

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#killmonger #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger fanfic #killmonger smut #erik stevens #erik stevens fanfic #erik stevens fanfiction #erik stevens smut #black panther #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #black panther smut #njadaka #njadaka fanfiction #klaue #marvel cinematic universe #killmonger imagine #erik killmonger #wakandacon2019

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Inside Uzumaki’s Pantherverse and the Creation of “Stark’s New Intern”: A Preamble...

“Stark’s New Intern” Summary: Fresh out of the Naval Academy, 19-year-old Erik Stevens accepts an internship with Tony Stark at Stark Industries.

One of the ideas behind this upcoming new series is the fact that I believe Erik Stevens would have surpassed Tony Stark had he been raised in Wakanda with access to the resources like Tony Stark was from birth. Both of these men in my Uzumaki Pantherverse were child geniuses, both went to M.I.T. and had standout academic achievements, both have ambition, vision, and of course, smashing good looks.  

The only thing that separates them from being truly equal is that Erik had a terrible hand dealt to him after his father and mother’s deaths. Those of you who are keeping up with my “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” Book Series and my other interconnected Pantherverse stories already know about Erik’s parents, their fate, and also the impact it had on Erik over the years as he plots to take over Wakanda. However, I wanted to throw in a twist on an AU where Tony and Erik met and worked together. Since Tony reached out to Peter Parker as a protege, why wouldn’t he have always been on the lookout for brilliant young minds? And who better than a young Erik Stevens fresh out of the Naval Academy and right before he headed to grad school at M.I.T.? It makes sense to me in my Pantherverse that Tony would have his finger on the pulse of raw talent that he could use at Stark Industries prior to his becoming Iron Man. I picture a bunch of over-the-top crises management situations with Erik having to deal with a wildman Tony while trying to suck up as much tech knowledge inside of Stark Industries as he can. Who knows, my pantsing/plotter tendencies are toying with ideas for them. They will look good doing whatever.

Those of you familiar with my incarnation of Erik know that his personality is a mixture of his Mom and Dad, equal parts fuckboi, alpha, highstrung Prince in disguise, but also a lover and supporter of women, even when he loves ‘em and leaves ‘em (because of his higher calling of REVENGE, dun dun dunnnnn). Who else has that personality too? Um...Tony, sans the revenge part.

If you read “Say Less” then you already know Tony and Erik had some shenanigans go down with a Prince in Monaco, so this new mini-series explores Erik’s recruitment and experience working for Tony as an intern for a year. It gives me a chance to explore a younger Erik as his mind is still developing the need to plot a life of revenge. In my other stories, Erik is already on his path, but I’m really interested in the catalyst for him fully embracing the decades-long path of justice. Because it’s really not revenge Erik wants for himself or the legacy of his parents. This is a justice claim for him and others in the diaspora. Wakanda willfully chose not to help anyone else outside of their bubble of a world. They were the Switzerland of Africa. Neutral. But also silent. Hidden.

Once I move my “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” book series into Wakanda and the aftermath of Erik’s rampage, I want to explore, maybe in one-shots, Wakanda’s viewpoint on why it was so important to ignore the outside. Maybe something traumatic happened in their past that made them embrace that worldview of non-action and non-engagement. There are three sides to every story and I’m curious about why they had a hard stance to say “Fuck you” to the people who looked like them in the diaspora. Maybe it really was as simple as “All skin folk ain’t kinfolk.”

On deck also is another idea (Gawd, I know, BP really has so much material for all of us fanfic writers to play with)....

I want to do a short little series of stories (1,000 words or less) called “The Lost Children of Wakanda: Diaspora Tales” which are really short glimpses into other half Wakandan children left behind by War Dogs. There is no way (we know this!) that Erik was the only baby left behind by War Dogs, male and female, who went out to spy all across the globe.

What stories could they tell?

Hmmmm....

Posting all of this just to keep me on track and accountable to my writing goals.

Back to writing!

#killmonger #black panther fanfiction #The Lost Children of Wakanda #war dogs #tont stark #stark industries #Stark's New Intern #wakanda #njadaka fanfiction #erik killmonger imagine

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First”: Volume 3, Chapter 1

Summary:

Erik N'Jadaka Stevens. The top student in his graduating class at the Naval Academy. The youngest graduate to do so.

Erik excels at M.I.T. studying bioacoustics and sonic warfare. Hounded by Tony Stark to become his protege in Malibu, Erik sets out to forge a path that will take him into the military and Special Ops to complete his ultimate goal: Revenge for his mother and father and the overthrow of the Wakandan Royal House. With the help of his roommate, Disa, he may have found a way to balance first love and his need for justice.

NSFW. Smut. Mature Audience Only.

"My nose wide as the Red Sea (Red Sea) Lips full, fillers don't fill me (Fill me) Soon as my cousin killer's on trial (Woah) Family gon' pull 'em sitting courtside Godsend they say, we singing la-la-la Don't want no vultures on our si-i-ide Looking black as the messi-i-iah I got time…

When we die, where do my people go? To the stars where they can't steal your glow When we die, where do my people go? To the stars where they can't steal your glow Superpower"

Kirby—"Superpower"

Chocolate City.

That's what they called this particular section of dorm housing on the fourth floor of the building known as New House that Erik N'Jadaka Stevens found himself standing in at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

M.I.T.

"No man, this dude is different. He's twenty, but he acts way older. Quiet. Not real friendly…I don't mean in a bad way…he's just not gregarious. Grad student, not a freshman… I didn't ask. He applied to be here and Jay said he'd be a good fit. Oakland…I don't know…"

They were feeling him out already.

The lone voice he heard was in another room talking on a phone. The person wasn't even aware that Erik had entered House One that Chocolate City shared with iHouse, another identity-based undergraduate group who used the first two floors while they used the other three top floors.

Erik had money to get his own apartment or his own house if he wanted. Working for Tony Stark as an intern and a Stark Fellow for a year prior to M.I.T earned him money to live like an adult. Hell, he gave up a luxury apartment and tasteful eclectic furniture to move cross country and hunker down among thirty-one young Black men from around the world—correction, thirty young Black men, and one young white Italian man—who came to study a wide range of STEM-related fields.

Erik stared at the Chocolate City Mission Statement on his phone:

"Chocolate City is a brotherhood of MIT students and alumni who identify with urban culture and share common backgrounds, interests, ethnicities, and/or experiences. By cultivating a tradition of social, intellectual, character, and leadership development, the Brothers of Chocolate City exemplify a high standard of excellence which is founded on continual growth. We seek to enrich the MIT and greater global communities by embodying the principles of our brotherhood."

Taking a deep breath, Erik took time to meditate on what his purpose was in being there in that commons room space at that moment. It was a promise to his Uncle Bakari, Aunt Shavonne, and his Grandpop that he would spend at least six months in the dorm to have a proper group living experience that he didn't have at the Naval Academy. One that was less rigid and military guided. And not a juvenile hall. He shook off the memories.

Six months.

He gave his word.

Erik rolled the suitcase he had with him against a wall and the movement alerted the unseen speaker to end their call. A lanky fade-wearing young man with glasses and very light skin walked in from another room.

"Hi, Erik?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, welcome! I'm Rasheed. Junior year. Engineering. One of two Co-Chairs here. You look different from the Zoom chat…hair is longer…"

They shook hands and Erik ran his fingers over the short 'fro he was cultivating. It was one of the perks of being away from The Naval Academy and Stark Industries. He could let his shit grow freely. He could wear regular clothes. He could stand down.

"Growing it out for a minute."

"Are you wearing gold slugs?"

"Yeah," Erik said becoming annoyed with comments about his appearance.

The moment he left Tony Stark's employ he had pure gold panther slugs made for his bottom teeth to match the ones his Baba used to wear.

"Is this all your stuff?"

"Nah, I have some more out in my car."

"What do you drive?"

"1970 Chevrolet Chevelle."

"What? A muscle car. What color?"

"Black."

"I'll go down and help you bring the rest of your stuff up. Everyone is still moving in and finding the campus. We're having a dorm meeting with the Chocolate City crew before the big New House meeting downstairs later tonight."

"Okay. Cool."

Exiting the elevator, they walked down the large hall on the first floor to the exit. Outside the afternoon air was crisp and Erik admired the brick of the building as they walked away from it to where he parked temporarily.

Rasheed whistled when he saw Erik's car.

"You sank some money into this bad boy."

"My grandfather had it for years. Fixed it up and passed it on to me. He still adds stuff to it if I ask him too."

"That's cool, bruh. Real cool."

Erik pulled out two more roller bags and a duffle, along with his computer bag from his trunk.

"That's it?"

"Yep," Erik said.

"You can stay parked here until tomorrow night. That's when you have to use your residency parking passes and move it to your assigned area."

"Bet."

Moving his things back up into his assigned floor, more young men had arrived in their commons and introductions were made. One husky guy with a crimson and white MIT sweatshirt sat on a couch with his laptop playing music. The music switched up and a voice Erik recognized filled the room.

ButtaFly.

A DJ that hosted a popular MIT radio show. A DJ he listened to for months while he worked for Tony Stark.

"You are listening to the Cosmic Café…up next I'm going to have some new music by Kirby, Seinabo Bey, and I'll also throw in some classic Mutabaruka dub poetry. I want to give a big welcome to the new students arriving for the start of a new school year, especially to the young men of Chocolate City. My homegirl Jennifer is the Graduate Resident Tutor there so hey girl…I hear some really brilliant new students are over there, so welcome… welcome to all the folks over at New House…"

Erik stood in front of red and white hoodie.

"Where is the campus radio station at? Do you know?"

"WMBR?" hoodie asked.

"It's in the basement of the Walker Memorial Building," Rasheed said.

"Is that far from here?"

"Not really if you don't mind walking."

Erik pulled up the campus map on his phone.

"What room do I have?" Erik asked.

He followed Rasheed down a hall to the far end. Two twin beds, two desks, a decent window…

No one else had belongings there yet.

Erik picked the side away from the window and dumped his stuff.

"Thanks for helping me," Erik said.

"No problem—"

"What time is the meeting?"

"In two hours—"

Erik left the room with Rasheed at his heels.

"The rest of the guys will be back, and your roommate—"

"Later. I gotta go peep something first. I'll be back on time."

Erik passed by more Black male undergrads entering Chocolate City.

"Hey, Erik!"

Darcy, the other Co-Chair called out to him as Erik headed toward the elevator. A bright white smile on a rich round mahogany face tried to get his attention as Erik swept past.

"I'll be back!" he called out again.

Erik checked his cell phone. ButtaFly's show lasted for another thirty minutes. He stuck in earbuds to listen to her as he walked outside once more. Zipping up the bright orange windbreaker he had on, he used his phone GPS to guide him to his muse. The voice that haunted him for so many months when he worked for Stark. The voice that soothed him when he was in bed alone. The voice that seduced him when he pleasured himself in that big queen-sized bed he used to own.

Things were different now.

He had a twin bed and a male roommate. He had to share cooking duties with young men when he once ate with billionaire playboys and a Black Princess of Monaco. Erik used to fly on a private jet with Tony Stark anywhere in the world and had access to tech that these students were just trying to learn about and would never get to see on a higher level in a lifetime.

So different.

No more smoking weed and jerking off naked to Buttafly's voice in private trying to imagine what she looked like as he came in his hand with deep guttural moans. Very shortly, he would come face to face with the woman of his dreams.

A woman who helped guide him back to his ultimate purpose in life and she didn't even know it.

Chapter 2 HERE.

Tag List:

@fd-writes​​ @soufcakmistress​  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone​

@allhailqueennel​  @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot​  @shookmcgookqueen​ @yoyolovesbucky​

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@tyees​  @eye-raq​  @writerbee-ffs​  @chocolatedream30​  @childishgambinaa​  @mygirlrenee​ @thewaysheis​—awkward

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#Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Volume 3 #Erik Stevens #Killmonger Fanfiction #njadaka #Erik Killmonger #Uzumaki Rebellion #Black Panther Fanfiction #Smut

[uzumaki-rebellion]

Wet Sugar

Summary: Erik Stevens has fully embraced his new identity as Killmonger and infiltrated a mercenary group with ties to Ulysses Klaue. Invited to St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands to meet for the first time, Klaue is impressed with Erik, unaware that the man before him is the son of Prince N'Jobu Udaku, a man he betrayed on a failed mission in Wakanda years ago. 

Erik ingratiates himself to Klaue and is found to be a useful member of the new mercenary team the black-market arms dealer and smuggler is putting together. As a reward for hard and profitable work, Ulysses allows Erik to stay a summer at his stash/safe house to keep a close eye on some stolen artifacts hidden there. 

Erik uses that time to hatch the long term plan of using Klaue to gain access into Wakanda, however, he becomes distracted by Klaue's housekeeper who allows Erik glimpses into a possible different life he could have if he ever let go of his plans for revenge...

NSFW. Smut. Mature Audience Only. Complete 30 Part Story. The sequel will be in Volume 4 of the “Black Boys Bloom Thorns First” Book Series. Follow me so you can be updated! Please share if you enjoyed the book!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty-One

Part Twenty-Two

Part Twenty-Three

Part Twenty-Four

Part Twenty-Five

Part Twenty-Six

Part Twenty-Seven

Part Twenty- Eight

Part Twenty-Nine

Part Thirty

Find More Erik Adventures Here!

#killmonger #killmonger smut #killmonger imagine #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger fanfic #erik stevens #njadaka #black panther fanfiction #black panther smut #klaue #Linda #dadmonger #wet sugar #usvi #st. thomas #erik killmonger #erik killmonger imagine #erik killmonger smut

[honeysunned]

Forbidden IV

The final part is here! It is an open ending and rather short, but I’m happy with it. I’ve realized that I love Killmonger fics with a Wakanda setting, so I think from now on all of my fics will be based there.

Warnings: cursing

You were tempted to look away as Mylene stared you down, waiting for an answer. Spirit was silent, seemingly frozen on the other side of the car as she looked between you two. The silence was heavy, thick with tension, and the longer it went on, the more tense it became. She crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at you, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Yes.”

She pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to laugh, before looking away with a shake of her head.

“…I’m sorry,” you whispered, and you meant it.

“I am too. Let me guess… You’re gonna need some time, right? You can’t really come around because of Erik…”

“What happened won’t have anything to do with you-.”

“But it always does!”

She was glaring at you, now, eyes sad.

“They always say the same thing you just did. They’ll tell me they need time because being around me will just make them think of my brother and whatever fuckshit he did. A few days turns into a few weeks…then months until I have to start looking for a new friend,” she complained.

“Mylene…”

You had heard it all before, and being reminded of how Erik always ruined her friendships made you feel even worse.

“It’s honestly a fucking miracle that I was able to hold onto the two of you as long as I did. You know how my brother is, you know how he operates, and every damn time it ends the same way. Every time,” she breathed.

You walked towards her, and you could see that she wanted to cry.

“Not this time,” you assured her. “I promise. You’re like a sister to me, and I would be even dumber than I already feel if I actually let Erik ruin what we have.”

She sniffed and blinked at you.

“You mean that?”

You nodded, and she did too before taking a deep breath.

“Okay. Okay, I believe you. Let’s go before I turn around and beat my brother’s ass.”

 ~

The car ride was silent, and you could tell that both of them wanted to ask what happened. What had caused the mess you all had just left behind. It wasn’t that you didn’t know how to put it into words, because you did. You probably had too many words ready for what had just happened to you, but…

You were embarrassed.

Embarrassed to tell them what happened, embarrassed to tell them how Erik had played you, and how you had let him. After all, you knew what he was like, always had. He had made you feel stupid, and you hated that more than anything. You had let your grief blind you to what you already knew about Erik, and in turn, he’d made you feel stupid.

“…what happened?”

You glanced in the rearview mirror, eyes connecting with those of Spirit with a sigh.

“He played me. I’ll tell you what happened when I don’t wanna shove my head in the dirt anymore, but all you need to know right now is that he played me. He humiliated me, and I don’t want anything to do with him,” you responded.

“Are you gonna tell Hakeem?” Mylene asked as she pulled into your driveway.

You let out a humorless chuckle, and you wanted to cry.

“I should. Hakeem would kill him, so I definitely should…”

You eventually shook your head though.

“…but that’s not me. I’m just gonna have to take this ‘L’.”

You got out the car, and your best friends followed. As you approached your door, you found that you really didn’t want to be alone. You stopped with your hand on the door and had barely turned around when Mylene wrapped her arms around you.

“You want us to stay?”

You nodded, chest and throat unbelievably tight all of a sudden. Spirit laid her hand on your arm, and you let the three of you inside.

 ~

Your entire face felt tight the next morning, your eyes being the worst of it. After going to your room, Spirit had brough out the hooch your parents left under the kitchen sink. It wasn’t long before you were telling them everything that had happened, filling Mylene in on what had happened from the very beginning.

You had tried your best, but you couldn’t stop the tears even if you wanted to. It wasn’t like you were head over heels for Erik or anything, not even close, but you had believed him. You had stupidly believed him, and he had fooled you. You don’t know when the alcohol got the best of you, but sometime in the night the three of you had passed out.

There was a faint pounding that you could register, and it took a minute for you to realize that someone was knocking on the front door. Mylene was up before you, her being a light sleeper and everything. You slowly got up as she opened your door, and you could hear voices. The knocking had stopped, and you looked back to find Spirit still asleep. You reached up and groaned, realizing that in your drunken state you had failed to tie your hair up.

You approached the door, ready to go and see what was going on, but Mylene seemed to recognize one of the voices before you did.

“Oh my God,” she mumbled, immediately backing up and slamming the door closed.

“What’s going on?” you mumbled.

“Erik’s here,” she said, looking at you with wide eyes.

You blinked, processing what she said before frowning.

“What?”

“He’s talking to Hakeem. I don’t…”

You didn’t let her finish, walking past her and flinging the door open. Sure enough, you could hear his voice and you stomped towards the front door. The sadness that had come from the humiliation was gone, only anger was left. Erik’s dark eyes fell on you as you approached, standing just behind your brother. Hakeem must have noticed his expression because he turned his head, frowning in confusion at you.

“Erik said he’s here to talk to you…”

The statement was worded like a question, as if Hakeem wanted to know why. You wanted to know why too.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

If Hakeem was surprised by your animosity, he didn’t show it, only frowning deeper as you glared at Erik.

“I wanna talk to you-.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you. Leave,” you spat.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” Hakeem demanded.

“Nothing. I just don’t want him here,” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

Hakeem looked between the two of you with a shake of his head.

“Nah, something’s going on-.”

“Erik fucked (Y/N).”

Your eyes widened, and both you and your brother turned around to stare at Mylene. She stood behind you, mimicking your stance as she glared at Erik.

“Mylene-!”

“He fucked her, and then he bragged to all of his friends about it,” she snitched, glancing at Hakeem, avoiding your eyes.

You had barely opened your mouth to say something to him when he practically flew through the doorway. By the time your eyes finally landed on them, they were in the yard throwing punches and waking up all the neighbors.

“Mylene, what the hell is wrong with you?” you screamed.

By now, Spirit was awake, running out of your room with wide eyes, confusion overtaking exhaustion on her face.

“Erik has been doing this for too long, (Y/N)! I’m sick of it. He treats girls like trash, always had, and my friends have never been an exception, but I thought… I thought you were different to him. He knows how much you mean to me, and after all these years I thought you’d be different. I never thought he’d do it to you too.”

You blinked at her.

“When he hurt you, he hurt me too. So yeah, I told Hakeem, because he deserves to get his ass beat,” she said with finality, not an ounce of regret on her face.

You understood her, really you did, but you couldn’t let Hakeem get arrested or some shit over Erik. You ran outside, and Spirit followed. You attempted to break it up, both of you grabbing your brother’s arms as he hovered over Erik.

“You foul, Erik! You foul as shit, and imma kill you!”

“Hakeem, stop! Please,” you pleaded. “Somebody is gonna call the cops soon, and you don’t want to get arrested behind him, do you?”

Hakeem glared at Erik, chest heaving as he let you pull him up. Erik sat up, resting one arm on his bent leg as he spat blood put of his mouth and onto the ground. Erik looked up at you, and you looked away, avoiding his eyes.

“Nah, don’t look at her. Look at me,” Hakeem sneered.

“Man, Hakeem-.”

“Shut yo bitch ass up! You come around here again, and imma kill you. You even so much as breathe in the direction of my sister, and imma kill you. You even think about blowin’ up my phone, and imma kill you.”

Erik glared back at him for a while before nodding.

“We clear?”

“Yeah…yeah,” Erik said.

It seemed like it took everything in Hakeem to walk away. Spirit eventually followed, and you stayed, finally looking at Erik as he did the same.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). That’s what I wanted to tell you…”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, and you sadly shook your head before following your brother. Erik said he was sorry, and the crazy part was that you think he meant it. If you had learned anything though, it was that you weren’t as good of a judge of character as you had thought. Whether or not Erik was truly sorry, only time would tell.

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[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Forty-Seven G”

Summary:  Erik Killmonger takes a break from M.I.T. to fly to a friend's wedding and gives a flight attendant working on her birthday a lovely gift.

NSFW. Smut. Mature Audience Only.  Complete 3 Parts.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Find More Erik Adventures Here!

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