#ulysses klaue imagine

[griots-tales]

I cried making this 😂😂

(18+)

#africa #tchalla imagine #tchalla memes #Okoye #Shuri #W'Kabi #Ulysses klaue #black panther #black panther crack #crackships #crack

[eupheme]

— kitten’s got klaue(s)

ulysses klaue x f!reader

rated e - 7.6k

Tags: fun filth, flirting, annoyance-to-lovers, mention of alcohol, masturbation, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, sub/dom elements, fingering, one pussy slap, light choking, oral, dirty talk, sort-of degradation, rough sex

A/N: this is a request from ao3! And so inspired by the amazing Klaue fics by @tarrenterror25 and @the-eyes-of-andyserkis - please check them out! 💕

“Are you looking for anything else tonight, princess?”

You frown, “I didn’t ask for anything else.”

“I was thinking along the lines of dinner.” Klaue clarifies, before his voice lowers conspiratorially, “I do I love eating out.”

(You can’t stand him. So why can’t you stop thinking about him?)

He drove you mad.

You hated how he always seemed to press your buttons, wind you up. With everyone else, you were professional, and they returned that courtesy.

They’d meet you in clean-cut suits, never daring to let their eyes drag down your form like his did. Showing up to your meetings with a cocky grin and a wink - wearing khaki shirts that were half-unbuttoned.

Teasing you. Stepping a little too close, letting his voice lower until it was rough, husky rasp and you were imagining him saying other things to you, instead.

As if it wasn’t hard enough to negotiate, to keep your wits about you. Ensuring the family business was kept running smoothly.

Klaue was a wild card.

But he got you the things you needed, things that no one else could.

Unable to help dangling them, with narrowed eyes and a curving smirk, before handing them over.

Tonight, in your private office, he lets his hip bump yours. His chin sweeping against your shoulder as he opens the metal case. Letting you check through it, though you can feel the brush of his chest against your back with each breath, smell the sharp curl of his cologne.

Pointing out the details as you nod, noting with satisfaction that he’s managed precisely what you’re looking for.

All that was left was to agree to a price.

“It will do,” You sigh, putting on a show.

Turning, until you’re facing him. His hands shove into his pockets then, the shirt pulling tight across his chest.

His brow quirks, and your head tilts, “What are you looking for it?”

“Half-mil.”

You scoff at his answer, the sound sliding from your throat before you can stop it. A mark deepening between your brows, as your lips purse, “I thought you told me four.”

“I’ve told you a lot of things,” He shrugs, his eyes glittering, “You’re not the only one looking for this. Price’s gone up.”

It’s a bluff, you think.

Your eyes scan his, the sharp chips of bright blue. Down to the crisp white of the dress shirt he wears today. A loose tie that matches his eyes - a vest a few shades darker.

His jacket missing, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the dark ink on his arm - showing that he’s not like them. He’s his own man, not constrained to stuffy suits, pointed leather shoes.

Your fingers lift to his tie, tracing the knot. Carefully straightening it, before smoothing it down against his chest. It’s a soft attempt to gain the upper hand, to distract him - letting your eyes sweep over the flash of his tattooed sternum, the curl of grey-flecked hair peeking out.

“Four.” You repeat, an upward tilt of your chin, until you’re meeting his gaze again.

Where he’s watching, with half-lidded eyes. Curious and amused, the peek of his tongue as he wets his lips.

A long pause, a moment where you hold your breath - waiting for his answer. Before it comes, sliding through his lips with a grin.

“Fine.”

The two of you shake on it, biting back your own smile - your hand dwarfed in his. Trying not to think too much about it, the pressure of his grip, his thick fingers.

"There now. Aren't you going to thank me?" There's a lilt to his voice, the slight sweep of his thumb against the back of your hand.

"Thank you?" Your answering laugh is a short, derisive thing, "For accepting the price we had originally agreed upon? I don't think so."

You haven't thanked him before, and you certainly weren't about to start now.

He grins with a shrug, as the handshake lingers for just a moment longer - until your hands drop, and you’re closing the case. The money will be wired over tonight, the item shipped out in the morning.

Your job here is done.

But Klaue still hovers, arms crossed over his chest. Displaying his thick forearms, his hip pressing into the sturdy table.

Silently watching, until that glint in his eye is back. Until he’s asking, “Are you looking for anything else tonight, princess?”

The words drawn out, a suggestive lilt to the end. His little nicknames should probably make you bristle - a jab at your put-together veneer. But instead, his words make your stomach flip, butterflies taking flight.

You frown, “I didn’t ask for anything else.”

“I was thinking along the lines of dinner.” Klaue clarifies, before his voice lowers conspiratorially, “I do I love eating out.”

His tongue pinches between his teeth as he smirks, the look hungry. Amused with himself, how he flusters you so easily.

“I’m, um-” It’s difficult to find words, to tear your eyes away from his mouth. Even harder still, not to read into his words - to imagine hands pushing up the hem of your pencil skirt.

Wondering if he’d sink to his knees for you, right now.

What that hair would feel like, as your fingers wrapped in the curls and tugged. If you’d find out just how sweet his tongue is - even with security waiting right outside the door, ready and waiting to escort him out.

You think he would. His devil-may-care attitude has gotten him further than most, this would be nothing. It’s almost… thrilling.

Finding your voice, you finish lamely, “-I have another meeting, after this.”

He’s undeterred, moving closer. Stalking almost, two smooth steps with rolling shoulders, fingers touching down on your desk, framing your hips.

It had your mind wandering again, resisting the urge to arch into him, to close that small bit of space between you.

“Drinks then?” The gold in his teeth glint off the low lamp light as he grins. His voice lowering again, smooth as silk, “Or we could just cut to the chase, and go back to mine.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his boldness. Always circling with looks and teasing words, the slightest of touches, never a direct offer like this.

And god, it was tempting.

But the push-and-pull had always been a game you both played - you were not one to start agreeing so easily now.

“Inappropriate,” you murmur, but all he does is laugh.

His arms move then - spreading out wide.

Stepping back as he grins.

“Oh, princess. Are you going to tell daddy what a bad man I am?,” He challenges, “Go on then, call your dogs on me.”

Your lips are parting, his words doing something to you. A warmth curling in your stomach - stealing your words and your sharp tongue.

His look is knowing, “I thought so.”

The smug tone to his words being you back. Giving him your own look - annoyed and amused and oh so very curious.

A beat, before you ask, “Which bar?”

“The Andromeda.” The look in his eyes soften, along with his smile, “No business darling, just pleasure.”

You knew the place. It was new, trendy. Expensive, and you wonder if he’s trying to impress you, or if it was a genuine attempt to take you somewhere nice.

It was also popular with a number of your clients.

You consider him for a long moment. Before you surprise yourself, the words sliding from your tongue, “How about Neon Blue? 9pm. Less prying eyes.”

“Excellent,” Klaue smiles, and it’s a little different than others he’s given you. Missing a sardonic edge - almost as if he really is pleased.

“It’s a date, princess.”

You don’t know why you spend so much time primping. Still unable to believe that you had spoken up, agreed to meet with him.

But part of you knows why.

You’re curious.

Wanting to know what he’s like. To give into the silver-tongued compliments. See if the innuendos and insinuations are as accurate as he’s hinted at.

Because there’s no illusions to your meeting. An intent to his invitation, a clear resolution to the evening.

He’s a mercenary, an arms dealer.

God knows what else.

But tonight, you don’t really care about that. You’ve been circling each other for months, and there’s something freeing, knowing what he wants.

No strings attached. Just one night.

It was a win-win. Either you had a good time, and your fingers were crossed that it would be good - or if it went poorly, at least you’d stop imagining him late at night, when you were alone.

Wondering, replaying certain phrases. The looks he gives you, the ones you give in return. Gasping into your pillow, eyes screwed shut as you imagined your fingers were thicker. Longer.

You get to the nightclub early, sneaking out to take a cab instead of letting one of the drivers take you.

Thinking you’d scope the place out, find a nice little corner. A place to watch and see if he’ll really show up.

When you get inside, it’s already full. Rows of deep leather booths and glossy tables on one side. The light turned down low, a hazy blue. White neon script flashing with the music - some club tune you don’t recognize.

Furtively glancing around as you move deeper. Scanning the crowd until you land on a pair as bright as the namesake.

He’s already here. Already waiting.

A broad hand cupping his chin, just watching. A lazy grin, a crook of two fingers when you start to move his way.

Stepping out of the dark corner booth, letting you shrug off your fuzzy winter coat. Folding it in the corner as you slide in, and he fits himself in right next to you.

A waitress stops by a few minutes later. Dropping off a short glass with elaborate cuttings, filled with an amber liquid. A taller one - pretty and garnished with a bright red cherry, a little umbrella.

She beams at him as he slips her some extra cash, a wink. You try not to think about why your stomach flips, as he passes you the glass.

“How did you know what I drink?” You ask, peering down, into it. An exact replica of your usual, the same fruity tang when you take a sip.

His eyes are dark, watching. Another one of those smiles, the glint of his gold teeth, “I make it my business to know everything.”

Enigmatic. Infuriating.

Part of you should be concerned that he knew - but you knew how this world worked. How knowing and secrets were collected, used.

Instead, it has you interested. That he took the time to find this out about you, to order it in advance for your arrival.

“Well,” You allow, fingers tracing them stem, "I appreciate it."

He looks pleased, his eyes swooping over you, lingering, “You look beautiful. I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up.”

Your eyebrow arches, a low weight starting to warm in your belly, “Why is that?”

“You work too hard.” He comments idly, “Did you eat before you came here?”

It feels like a genuine question, his words holding none of the humor or sardonic edge that usually laces it. But it’s the first part that captures your attention, as you decidedly ignore the second.

“I didn’t know you were privy to my work schedule.” Your elbow presses into the glossy table top, your palm propping up your chin.

Angling yourself to look at him. Watching as he takes a drink from his own glass - the way his head tips back, the flex of his neck as he swallows.

All that skin, disappearing down to the buttons popped on his white dress shirt. The peek of hair and dark shadow of his tattoo - the tie discarded sometime between before and now.

You wonder what it looks like, the ink that swirls across his chest. You’ve only gotten glimpses of it. Wondering where else those tattoos spread.

Eyes flicking away when his hand drops, not wanting to be caught staring. Still catching the peek of his tongue as it swipes over his lip. A low hum, before he answers - a tilt of the glass in your direction.

“You answer my emails in the middle of the night.”

It’s not the answer you’re expecting. It throws you off balance, as you scramble for a response, “You travel constantly. How would you know what time it is here?”

The curl of his smile is knowing. Ignoring your question like you had his, as he copies your pose. Fingers stroking the edge of his beard.

“It’s always made me wonder, princess. Would you say it’s your work ethic?” He muses, before he leans closer, his voice dropping, “Or have I just made that much of an impression?”

You scoff, eyes rolling away. Focusing on your drink instead, head dipping to catch the straw - take a long sip.

“Why did you ask me to meet you then, if you know how busy I am?”

He sighs, then. Fingers drumming on the tabletop. A ruse, as his lips part - tongue brushing over teeth.

“Thought you could use some good stress relief.”

You scoff, “Is that right?”

An eyebrow cocks - that smile back,“You’re the one up at 4am, sweetheart. You tell me.”

Your eyes lock for a long moment. Flustered by the attention, not quite sure how to play this game.

His eyes drop to your mouth.

You muster up an answer, trying to match his cryptic answers, “I give you the same attention I give everyone else.”

“Is that right?” Klaue’s head cocks, a shift as his spread thigh brushes yours.

Too close, in this cramped booth. It has you distracted, watching the roll of his shoulder as his arms slings along the back of the booth.

“Who did you meet with after me, then?” He asks conversationally, as you suck the last of your drink through your straw, “Who else is so worthy of your time?”

Your eyes flick towards him, considering your answer, “I thought you said this was pleasure, not business.”

“I find that they have a tendency to mix,” His drink swirls in his glass, his eyes on yours as he tastes a long swallow. Your own drawn down to his mouth as his tongue peeks out to pass across his lower lip.

“Though, if it’s pleasure you want…”

You cut him off, with a little cock of your head. Fishing out a name just to see what he would say. A way to tease him back, even if it’s small.

“What if I said it was with Tony Stark?”

The grin on his face turns sharp, his eyes narrowing - calculating. A slight edge to his voice when he answers, “I didn’t know you did business with Stark.”

With Stark. With his shiny cars, and tailored suits and well-known playboy reputation.

“Are you jealous?” You ask, a teasing lilt to your voice.

“No.” Klaue scoffs - though he’s watching you.

He’s thinking about it, as his eyes jump between yours. Down to your mouth. Down, even further.

Amending his answer, with his gaze fixed on where one of your thighs crosses over the other - the expanse of skin where the short fabric pulls.

“Only if you let him taste you before I got the chance.”

They rise then, his look heated. Your own matching his, as he leans even more into your space.

Daring you to close that little gap between you. It would be so easy, to take what you know you both want. To tip your mouth up to his, to finally find out what it feels like.

But - you can’t deny it. That you want him to come to you.

So instead, your fingers dip inside the rim of your glass. Fishing out the cherry - letting him watch the way your lips curve around the plump fruit. Before you tug on the stem, a soft moan at the sweet taste.

His exhale is rough, a low noise in his throat as he leans forward. A wide hand cupping your jaw, the drag of his thumb across your lower lip, left glossy from the cherry.

Before your eyes flutter closed, and his mouth presses hungrily against yours.

You groan into the kiss, the brush of his tongue as you let him in. Months of tension finally snapping, as a spark ignite in your belly. Fingers reaching for him, grasping at a sleeve, anything you can reach.

Klaue leans into you, his hand tilting your jaw up to him. Pulling back the smallest bit so he can see how your eye lashes flutter, a grin as his other hand curls around your waist, pulling you closer.

Your hand on his sleeve sliding to brace against his broad chest.

Only breaking to suck in a breath, lips kiss-swollen as you glance up at him from under your eyelashes.

To where he grins with half-lidded eyes of his own - the bright flash of something cherry-red between white teeth, before he bites down.

Stolen right from your mouth, with a hot swirl of his tongue.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your words coming out soft and breathy, “I wanted that.”

He laughs, a rough sound that makes goosebump raise on your skin - making you want to kiss him again. Words low and slow and he leans in.

“I will get you more.”

His lips brush yours.

“I’ll give you anything you want.”

Kissing you again, tasting of whiskey and candy-sweet cherry.

Crowding you towards the back of the booth, in the dim corner. A hand cupping the back of your neck to keep you close - the other bracing against the edge of the table.

Your own wandering, brushing over a thigh, across his chest. Finding the deep cut of his open shirt, fingers slipping over ink and grey-peppered whorls of hair.

He licks into your mouth and you sigh - fully giving into him now. Wanting to feel his press of his bare fingers against your skin. Wanting to trace every inch of his tattoos - find out just where they go when they disappear under his shirt.

A brush then, of fingers. His grip loosening on the table, tracing a pattern against your knee. Curling against your thigh, his thumb sweeping across sensitive skin as your legs seem to nudge wider on their own.

His groan is filthy, deep and rasping. A slow inch of a fingertip just a little higher, towards where you’re aching and molten.

It’s dark, in this corner. The lights dimming as the evening goes on. You think you’d let him, in this moment. Let him touch you the way he’s thinking, with that teasing sweep of his fingers. A mutual testing of the water.

A dark look that passes across his face, when the kiss breaks. The tilt of his head, as he considers you - his fingers still firmly fixed in place.

Your lips part, but a voice interrupts you.

A man, calling out his name with a crisp familiarity. Klaue’s head turning, a short greeting barked out.

An impatient twitch of his fingers, the chill of his rings pressing against your thigh.

Against his will, he is pulled in. Unwilling to make a scene in such a public place, not with you in tow. It’d be different if it was in his office - over the phone. The man never would have stood a chance, then.

You wait, one minute sliding into the next. His thumb resumes its sweeping after one more, slowly inching upward.

Just brushing where you need it, where your heartbeat thuds.

It’s then, that you get another idea.

Your coat tucked across your lap, as if you’re cold. Not unusual, with the weather outside - all whipping, icy winds through the tall glass skyscrapers.

One more minute before your hand is slipping beneath. The nudge of your thighs as they widen just a little more. The press of your fingers as they map his.

Bringing him to bridge that final gap, a stifled moan when you push his palm to cup the heat of your cunt.

His hand freezes, for the briefest second. All four fingers curving against you, brushing against that pretty fabric, the heel of his hand nudging against the spot that seems to throb.

Just catching a sharp inhale of breath, a tightness in his shoulders. Before his fingers twitch - the slightest pull back so the tip of the middle strokes across your clothed slit.

Pressing against the fabric that you know he can feel is damp. The twitch of the others as they brush that overlap of warm skin and the cut of the elastic.

Each movement achingly slow, winding you up further. A fingernail catching under the edge of your panties, your own fingers gripping his arm in anticipation.

Almost dripping at the thought of his fingers sinking into you, right here. For him to feel how wet he’s made you, how easily it would be to fill you.

Thrilled with his split attention, knowing it’s more on you than the man’s questions, with the constant press and circle of his fingertips.

It has your eyes - your thoughts - drifting, as his touch continue. The lazy sweeping press against the soaked fabric. Swirling in soft circles as you feel yourself clench.

Unable to help the shift of your hips into his hand. Increasing the pressure, eyes unseeing as you lean into the pleasure, the secrecy. Both of them fueling the fire that roars in your belly.

The fingers pause for the briefest second. Pulling back - before landing a soft tap right against your cunt.

It makes you jerk - thighs pressing together as a spark arcs up your spine. Trapping him against you as your eyes flash to his.

Catching the curl of a smile and a heated look from the corner of his eye.

You think you can read it. The expression on his face.

“Behave.”

Or, perhaps it’s - “Eyes on Me.”

Yes, that seems more likely. Wanting your focus fully on him, taking what you had asked for.

So, you lean into it. Into him, that heavy bulk of a thick arm. The muscles flexing as you wraps yourself around it, with each press of his fingers.

The one that used to have tattoos - now replaced with dark seams that travel and split down his forearm.

A story that you haven’t been told before, but had heard whispers. Clinging to him like a second skin.

Leaving you to wonder, as your chest presses against him. The fingers of your other hand tracing over the deep crease in his trousers, where hip meets thigh.

Muscles tense under your fingertips.

The conversation now wraps up quickly. Funny how that is, as you stroke a path that slowly moves inward.

Those bright, hungry eyes back on yours the second the man turns.

Your low sigh, as your chin presses into his shoulder, “Thank god. I thought he’d never leave.”

At that, he smiles. White and gold and sharp, his eyes sweeping down to where you press against him.

“I was hoping he’d stay longer.” Klaue confesses, his voice low. Going lower - rougher - as he adds, “Wanted to see if I could make you come, right in front of him.”

His words catch in your chest, as heat burns in your face. The images flashing in your mind as his fingers twitch against the tight nub of your clit. Your thighs clenching around him as you think about it - him bringing you to the edge right there, and then crashing over.

“Is that right?” You try to match his tone - daring him, “Is that all you wanted to see?”

His grin sharpens, and his fingers leave you. Pulling up, before passing over his mouth in contemplation. As he inhales the scent of you, after.

“No. Not just that. And not here,” Klaue rasps, “Come with me.”

You let him take your hand as he slides from the booth. Hauling you up easily, as your coat tucks under your arm. Guiding you in front of him, as he ushers you towards the dark hallways in the back.

The thudding reverb of the music matching the one between your thighs. The press of him, hard and curving, against your ass every time you have to wait - pausing for people getting out of their booths.

The fingers on your hip pinching, squeezing. Letting him move in front as a bouncer steps aside with a nod, letting you both past.

A hand closing around your wrist again - a tug as you’re pulled into the first open room.

It’s dim as you enter - mood lighting bathing the room in light blue neon. An old disco ball turns, refracting the light in a bright glitter across the room. The back wall looking out into the city through a tinted window - framing the rounded booth beneath, the table set close in front of it.

The rest of the room blurring as the door snaps shut behind you. His hand splaying against the wall as he boxes you in - as you melt from the way he surrounds you.

A slow lean forward, as your hands brace against his chest, watching as your eyes drop to his mouth. Your own sliding shut after, as he closes the gap. Stepping into you, as his teeth nip at your bottom lip.

The slightest pinch, before he’s kissing you. Devouring you - so much more than before, at the table. Broad hands that cup your face, holding it in place. A palm that smoothes down your neck - wide enough to span the length, a thumb that rests in the hollow of your throat.

Your own hands finding thick shoulders - your coat dropping to the floor as his hips roll against yours. Teeth and tongue as the hard length of him digs into the curve of your hip, your breathing barely audible over the muted beats outside.

Hands wander again, palming your ass to press you flush against him. You own snaking down to cup him, feeling where he strains.

Klaue groans into your mouth. Pulling away with an effort, his eyes dark as you both stumble towards that rounded booth.

You wonder if he’s going to cage you in again - lay you down on the leather cushion as he stands between your thighs.

Instead, his hands are on your hips. Lifting you into the sleek top to sit. Your hands splaying across the glass as he slides into the booth proper. Hands catching under your thighs - a gentle push to spin you until your knees press into his ribs.

His eyes drag over your form, lingering where your breasts are near-level with his face - his tongue peeking out over his lower lip. Wide hands coming to trace the curve of your hips, fingertips that stroke the bare skin of your thighs.

“Didn’t know you were so filthy,” Klaue rasps, toying with the hem of your dress. The pretty fabric trapped between fingers that could tear it - you - to shreds.

Your teeth sinking into your lip as you bite back your smile. Trying to make it not seem too obvious when you shift into his touch - wanting more, as you tease back.

“I thought you knew everything.”

His laugh is rough and low - you don’t even notice the slow rucking up of your skirt, how the fabric bunches in his grip.

“I suppose not.” Klaue allows, “I also don’t know how you sound when you come.”

The wrist at your hips twists, knuckles brushing against your mound. That grin again, as a thumb strokes the silky fabric of your panties - his voice pitching low.

“But I think I’m going to find out.”

You’re nodding - eager to have his hands on you again. In this darkened room it feel easier to lean into it, into him. Into how much you really want this.

“Please.” You breathe as his head tips - his teeth scraping against your jaw. Moving towards your ear, goosebumps prickling across your skin.

His hand catches yours, dragging it down. To where his fingers tease and trace the elastic waistband.

“Hold this for me.” Klaue husks, and you’re taking what he offers without question.

The balled-up fabric of your dress. How it bunches up around your waist now, wrinkling in your tight grip. Putting yourself on display.

It feels filthy - holding it up, as he leans back in the booth to look. Fingers dragging down until they’re pressing against sticky, damp fabric.

Humming with you as you whine at his touch, feather-light as he traces you. Finding that spot like before, one that has your other hand reaching forward - curling around the back of his neck for balance. Fingers sliding over the velvet-short undercut, the strong curve where shoulder meets neck.

Pressing circles against your clit - the sensation damped by the thin layer, but the fact that it’s him, that he’s already there and touching you in a way that feels so intimately familiar - it’s an accelerant.

Your teeth clenched as you whine, the sound pitiful. Unable to escape the way he watches each and every expression. You try to match him, keep yours on those bright blue eyes, but you find your head tilting back - your eyes fluttering shut as your free hand fists in the fabric of his shirt.

A twisting and winding in your belly. Little unconscious jerks of your hips, matching the pace of his fingers. Until they’re curling - hooking around the gusset. Tugging it to the side, fingers now sliding over slick skin.

You groan, and he grins. A tug at shirt pulls him closer, until his lips are brushing against yours again. Not quite a kiss - hovering, like his fingers are.

Nudging the tip of one against your entrance. A tease, as a thumb swipes over your clit.

“So wet, princess.”

You can feel his lips move against yours. As he sinks into the knuckle, as you feel yourself clench around him. His teeth bared at the sound of your choked moan - withdrawing, only to push deeper with his next thrust.

Giving you something to tighten around, as the heel of his hand presses against your clit. Your arousal slicking up his palm as he starts a slow pace, a second teasing at your entrance before there’s the sweet stretch as he works it inside. Curling and dragging the pads of his fingertips against a spot that sends up sparks.

Your heartbeat thuds in your ears, as you tug again. Feeling the smile before his mouth presses against yours - letting yourself arch into him now. Chasing the slick plunge of his fingers, feeling the metallic chill of those thick rings when he presses deep.

He deepens the kiss when you gasp, when he feels the way you’ve started to go tense in his arms. A messy sweep of his tongue, drawing back to watch the pretty pinch of your brows.

“You’ve thought about this.” Klaue husks, his head tilting. Honeyed words mixing with the sticky, curling pump of his fingers - his expression knowing, “Thought about my tongue earlier, weren’t you? I could see it on your face.”

You think back to then - when he was in your office. That moment when you thought about him on his knees, that mouth of his between your thighs.

It’s almost too much. A tremor in your legs, as they try to close around him, but his hand is too broad, too strong.

He laughs then - each word enunciated, even to your hazy mind, “Tell me you want my mouth more than my fingers.”

You’re close. Each press of his heel perfectly timed, dreaming about how sweet that silver tongue would feel instead.

“I want-” You can barely gasp, “Fuck, I want your mouth.”

His lips press against your cheek, another to your jaw. The scruff of his beard as he groans in your ear.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re going to last that long,” He mock-sighs, the words almost wistful. “You feel like you’re about to come all over my fingers.”

The tiny part of your brain that is still functioning mourns the loss of his mouth. The barest flicker of thought before your vision starts to go blurry, the neon lights turning into streaks.

But Klaue appears merciful, after all - a hand coming up to press against your stomach, pushing your back down to the tabletop as he leans forward.

The wet, warm drag of his tongue replacing the press of his heel. A low groan right into your pussy as the angle of his fingers change, all the better to drag the tips against the spot that makes your toes.

All you can manage is a weak warble of his name, almost a warning. The sounds stuck in your throat as the room grows even more dim, each breath cut short and sharp.

“Come for me.” He growls, his lips shining with you. His voice no-nonsense, one you’ve heard him use on the phone.

It tips you over. The thudding of the music slowing and becoming dull, as you clench around him. Your release slick on the fingers that continue to pound into you, as you cry out. Both hand gripping onto him, as his lips close around your clit.

Feeling the pulse of your orgasm against the press of his tongue, until you’re left limp and boneless on that glass table.

His mouth presses against you in a lewd kiss as his fingers slip free. A wet drag of his tongue from your hole to your clit, his eyes bright and piercing as you slowly push yourself up onto an elbow.

Still breathing hard, your dress still clutched so tightly in your fist. Still hauling the fabric up to your belly, near-bare beneath. Too far gone to think about doing anything other than hanging on.

Klaue breaks the silence first, as he leans back against the bench. Looking a little less put-together as a hand rakes through his curls, buttons popped on his shirt from the way you had yanked on the fabric.

“I told you I’d give you anything.” His eyes are dark from this angle, glinting in the low light, “What do you want?”

It’s a surprisingly unselfish question. Putting the reigns in your hands. You swallow for a second, as you let your eyes wander. Still trying to find your tongue.

“Don’t get shy on me now.” He grins, “We are far past that, darling.”

You can see where his thighs spread wide, under the table. The long and hard curve of his cock, straining against the dark blue fabric of his trousers. Stiff from your mouth and your cunt and the way you gushed on his tongue.

The dress drops, so you can reach beneath. A lift of your hips as you peel your panties from your legs, holding them out between you like an offering.

His fingers brush yours as he takes them.

“Good girl.” Klaue husks, tucking them into his pocket. Offering a hand that you take, as he tugs you towards the edge of the table, and then into his lap.

You start to straddle him, but his hands find your hips instead. A careful shuffle as he flips you around, a gentle nudge forward that has you hovering, elbows resting on the table.

Giving him enough room to work open his belt. To close slick fingers around his heavy cock, groaning at the contact.

His other hand pushing your dress up again. Baring you fully, the fabric bunching up at your waist.

Pumping himself as he sees where you glisten, angling himself to press the blunt head against your slit.

You whine as he slides himself against you. Just pressing against your greedy hole before drawing back, slicking a fist over the tip.

“You drive me fucking crazy. You know that, darling?” He growls, as if you were the one teasing him. As you’re the one stopping him from taking you, from burying himself in the tight channel of your cunt.

“Ulysses, please-” You whine, and he laughs at that - his hand going still.

“Oh, it’s Ulysses, now?” There’s a grin in his voice that you can hear, amused “Not just Klaue?”

Teeth sink into your lip, as you try to rock back against him. As his thighs press against your knees, holding you firmly in place.

“Say it again, princess, and I’ll fuck you.” He rasps, his fingers sinking into the curve of your ass, “Just like you want me to. Come on.”

You do. For him, you do - the first syllable barely past your lips before he’s lining himself up, and then pulling you down to meet him.

The rest of his name strings out - breaking at the end on a high moan as you impale yourself on his cock, your back arching as he fills you.

It feels like he’s in your throat, a hand flattening unconsciously against your belly as if you could feel him there, inside you.

His answering groan is filthy in your ear, a guttural grunt as you rock yourself on his lap. Broad hands gripping your hips as he coaxes you back and forth, your own gripping onto the edge of the table for leverage.

The sound of skin slapping fills the air, his breath warm against your neck. A thought flickering - a realization that you could have had this for weeks now. This morning even - the briefest vision of yourself, bent over your own desk.

A hard thrust has you moaning his name, as your feet slide against the floor - trying to find purchase. Trying to keep up the pace, as you ride him.

A plea in the way your lips forms around the letters, as a thick arm hooks around your waist. Tugging you back, pushing him flush and deep as your back presses against his barrel chest.

His hand sliding up, between the valley of your breasts. A broad palm wrapping carefully around your throat like a necklace, the pressure holding you against him. As his beard scrapes against your jaw, his voice low and silky in your ear.

“You still begging for more, even though my fingers still taste like you?” He husks, as his right hand raises.

Fingers pressing against your lower lip, until they’re parting for him. Scraping past teeth, until you’re closing around him. Sucking.

Tasting yourself, like he said.

A pleased tone to his words, as he sighs, “Greedy girl. What am I going to do with you?”

Sliding his fingers from you then - spit stringing between glossy fingers. Dropping down to tap against your clit, the tips slipping against slick skin.

Then circling slowly, as his feet plant on the floor. Using the leverage to thrust up into you - the angle dragging his cock against your walls.

A moan bursting from your chest, your hips trying to flex into his touch. But he holds you firm. Makes you take what he gives you.

The pressure of his fingers increasing, a tingling in your guts that drops low and spreads. Your nails sinking into his arm - across those tattoos, feeling the muscles tense under your grasp - but he leans into it, as your breathing turns sharp.

“Klaue.” You bite out, between panting breaths, “Ulysses, please let me-”

Half-expecting him to slow. Or stop, his laugh ringing out - just to fuck with you.

Instead, his nose drags against the column of your neck. The thumb resting on your skin twitching, where he can feel your heart hammering beneath. A groan, as his lips ghost against the hollow under your ear.

A shiver running through you, at the tender contact. His voice coming after, pitched low.

Almost a growl.

“Oh, I’ll let you come again.” He tells you, “And this time, you are going to thank me.”

The words hang. Intent to recieve what you had so denied him before. The flood of relief blocked by an urge to protest, just because it’s him, and that’s what you do.

“Understood?” Klaue presses.

You don’t know if you have a choice. Everything drawing up tight as you squirm in his embrace. The press of his fingers unrelenting. Each one winding, winding, winding.

“Oh, fuck-”

Not even aware of the words as they slide from your lips. Concentrating too much on way he’s about to make you come, with steady pound of his cock, the wet swipe of his fingers.

Your body stringing tight, the words rushed, “Thank you, thank you-”

Toes curling, as it crashes into you. Your head tipping back as you moan, pressing into his shoulder.

“Such a good girl. See how easy that was?” He coos, as his hips still. Feeling how you pulse around him, his fingers still drawing the sensations out, “That’s it, cream on my fucking cock, princess.”

It’s all muted, as your head spins. As your vision goes hazy, your limbs limp and heavy.

You haven’t come that hard in a long time. Had forgotten how good it feels to have a cock nudged deep inside you, even as he tips you towards overestimation.

Each sound you make is a little gasp. Moving with him as he nudges you forward, your elbows pressing against the tabletop.

As he manages to stand behind you - a hand planting on the glass next to your hip. The other pressing down against the small of your back to hold you in place.

“Christ, you’re pretty when you come.” He groans, with a thrust of his hips, “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this.”

Starting as a slow and lazy as you feel, working his way up as his hips snap against yours, his heavy sack kissing against your clit again and again.

Somewhere in your mind you think about answering him - an admission that you’ve thought about it, too. That there’s been nights where you stretched yourself out on your own fingers, wishing they were his.

But he fills the silence for you. With low gasps and grunts that punctuate the intoxication drag of his cock.

“How you’re always running that pretty mouth of yours. Bossing me around in your office like the little spoiled princess that you are.”

You moan, rocking back to meet the grind of his hips, your cheek pressing against the cool glass. Too far gone in the haze of bliss and the continual pounding of his cock to form words, your answers coming in contented moan.

“But listen to how sweet you are now.” His voice goes honey-smooth, as he coos, “Just needed my thick cock, is that it?”

A whine rips through your throat, a broken fracture of his name woven in. He hums in amusement, unable to stop the filth that slips from his mouth. Goaded by the way you seem to grow slicker with his voice, the way you’re starting to clench down hard around him.

“Christ, if we were there now. I’d make you scream, darling.” The words are growled out, possessive. His body curving over yours, hands molding against your flesh as his lips press against your cheek. Those wild curls tickling your ear, each breath a ragged groan.

“Let those guard dogs of yours hear how you sound getting fucked like a man like me.”

The new angle of his cock has you seeing stars. His cock slick as he ruts into you, stroking along your inner walls. Bringing you closer as the head bumps against that spongey inner spot - you think you’re about to come again and he’s not even touching you, like before.

“Please-” You whimper, your fingertips making marks against the glass. A tight winding in your belly, your eyes closing.

Still able to see the glitter of those neon light as they slowly spin, reflecting off your skin.

But all you can feel is him.

It eclipses everything else, the spark that starts a flame - catching you off guard as it rips through you. A muffled half-laugh that you dimly register comes from him, as your promised shout is drowned out by the club beats.

A tight pulsing, as your thighs press together. Klaue’s praise gritted out in your ear as his thrusts turn sloppy - pleased and possessive and winding throughout the flicker of thought that still remains in your head.

“Fuck. Look at you, coming again.”

“That’s my good girl-”

And all too soon he’s pulling from you - leaving you empty. A split second as he yanks the panties from his pocket, wrapping it around his cock as he spills messily into the gusset.

His chest pressed against your back, as he stains the fabric, each pulse of his cock leaving him leaking into the gift you gave him. Grinding himself against the spot that’s still wet from your cunt.

That arm wraps around you again, as he sits back. Tugging you onto his lap, as your head tips against his shoulder, his hand splaying across your belly. A deep breath of contentment that matched you own, and you’re both brought back down.

An eyebrow quirking when you give him a look - your underwear still curled in his free hand. A smile, then - glinting, again.

“Didn’t think you wanted me dripping out of you.” It’s almost gentlemanly, as he shifts beneath you. His cock still pressing against the bare curve of your ass, his trousers pooled around his thighs - before he amends, “Not here, anyways.”

You don’t tell him, but you wouldn’t have minded. A little shiver at the thought of how it would have felt, to feel him - pressing tight against you, the pulse of his cock as he emptied himself into you.

“Not here?” You turn, where he’s watching - fingers tracing a pattern against your dress, “Is that an invitation?”

He growls, “God, yes.”

You can feel him twitch against your ass, still flushed and heavy.

“This was just a taste, love. I think our night is just beginning.” He coos, “Besides… you still need to have your dinner.

Klaue’s grin turns dark, as his fingers slowly start to drift down, settling between your thighs.

“And I haven’t had my dessert.”

I have been chipping away at this since December - if you made it this far, thank you so much! 🥺💖 hope you liked this!

#don’t look at me #ulysess klaue x reader #ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue x you #ulysses klaue smut

[stargirlfics]

just wanna add, ulysses has an insane daddy kink and if you call him that in public...in front of his lackeys...oof you would be walking funny for a while

Klaue having a daddy kink actually makes me feral yes!!! It just feels right ugh I wanna drive that man crazy, please!!!

I can see him visibly struggling when you bat your lashes and call him your daddy, it genuinely makes his brain short circuit, imagine the LOOK he would give you, he would be so close to snapping and hauling you over his shoulder right there 🥵

“Yeah sweetheart, daddy’s here.”

I simply have to scream

The effect it has on him is so fun for you to play with, especially if it’s in front of his guys, the little authority/ego boost, how he knows it’s a challenge too cause you’re calling him that in public (not that he minds one bit, he likes when you call attention to the fact that he’s yours and you’re his) yeah you’re at risk of letting everyone know what’s up with the resulting pounding he would give you and I want it so bad!!!

Adding a little visual cause I think he’s giving off so much daddy energy it makes me weak and also my friend made this gif and I’m obsessed with it, y’all should check out her Klaue fic btw! <3

#daddy kink tw #I’m such a daddy kink girlie for life like you get me! #ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue smut #andy serkis stop being hot challenge #asks

[tarrenterror25]

Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Title: I Always Find My Way Back To You Chapter: 5 of 9 Rating: Explicit 18+ Word Count: 4.4K

Summary: You can always count on Ulysses to return to you, but lately you find yourself wanting more. The new dangers in the world don't make the life of an arms dealer any easier and any day could be his last. Running away and living off the grid with the man you love is the dream. Does he share your feelings and can he be convinced to live a life with you?

Tags: MxF, heavily implied sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, alcohol, some fluff, unprotected PiV, angst, hurt, daddy kink, overstimulation, a very brief encounter with a spider

Playlist here (May contain explicit material)

Notes: “I Wish You Roses” by Kali Uchis inspired most of this chapter! I hope you guys like this chapter because I enjoyed writing this one! When I edit, the last two stages are “the big one” where I read the entire thing at once without stopping and add some words, do punctation, spelling, change up some things etc. And then I do another minor pass to catch just things like spelling or punctuation. Like a final clean up. I’m too excited to post this so I only did a “major” pass and not a “minor” so if there’s any little mishaps that’s why!

Chapter Five: What We Could Be

Klaue is not happy when you wake him early, but you don’t want to waste a single moment of the day. You hardly eat breakfast and practically yank him away from a second helping to get out the door. He’s thankfully not too bothered and finds your excitement endearing.

He tiredly runs a hand through his hair and throws on his shades as he hops in the driver seat of his SUV. You settle in the passenger seat and apologize again for the early start.

"Let’s go to the beach,” you said in the early morning hours.

“Right now?” Klaue asked rubbing his eyes tiredly.

You kissed him, no playfulness, only tenderness and love moving your lips against his. “Please,” you said softly. “I have you for one more day.”

So you pack a bag and he drives the two of you to the beach. The journey is long and mostly quiet save for the music Klaue has playing on the radio. His eyes stay on the road, one wrist resting lazily on the steering wheel, and the other hand resting on your thigh.

You’re wearing a dress so his hands rest on your bare flesh. Every so often his thumb brushes across your skin and it gives you goosebumps every time.

Neither of you have brought up yesterday and you don’t intend to. You just want to focus on the morning sun warming you as it comes through the window and his hand on you. It’s a simple gesture, but it grounds you to this moment.

You think back to the woman in the jewelry shop; perhaps you are pretending and you’ve been in denial this whole time, but today you embrace it. Today you don’t want to be what you are with him, you only want to imagine the possibilities of what the two of you could be.

Today is yours and so is he.

You take his hand and without taking his eyes off the road, he brings it up to his lips and kisses it.

“Why the beach?” he asks.

“It’s one of the few places we haven’t been to together,” you reply.

Klaue nods thoughtfully, eyes still on the road. He hasn’t looked at you much and you’re trying not to let it worry you. Ulysses isn’t one for emotions and he’s a very in the moment person. He doesn’t linger on what was or what will be, he’s only concerned with the present. This leaves you in a tough spot. You’re so concerned with the future, if there could be a future with the two of you, and you’re too attached to the past you share to just live in the moment of any given day. There are so many questions and you’re desperate for answers, but Klaue has never been worried about the inner machinations of life: the “why’s” or the “how’s”, everything just is.

Soon, there’s trees surrounding you. Coastal species indicate you are near the edge of land and closer to the sea. Klaue was able to arrange for the two of you to stay at a beach house for the day, with no expense spared of course.

After a few winding turns, the house comes into view. It’s modest in size, but modern in design. It’s just about noon when the two of you enter the house. You set your bag down and take a look around.

The kitchen is fully stocked and it almost makes you sad that the two of you are only here for a day. There’s plenty of extra towels, blankets, and anything else anyone might need on their getaway. You imagine people usually book a place like this for a romantic vacation or a honeymoon.

In the living space there are windows from floor to ceiling that offer a view of the ocean. Klaue’s informed you that the nearest neighbor is miles away so it’s just the two of you and the calming sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

Klaue sets his bag down and walks over to you. “Not bad, eh?” he says holding his hands out with a smile.

You smile and reply, “It’s lovely. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Been meaning to,” he adds as he heads to open concept kitchen. “I come here a lot to lie low when, well, you know.”

He opens the fridge and grabs a drink.

“Have you ever brought anyone else here?” you ask.

“Just you,” he says casually.

Your heart flutters at the thought that you’re the only one who’s been here, another part of him that has you written on it. You hold these things close to your chest.

Something to eat is in order and then, wanting to stretch your legs after the drive, the two of you go for a walk on the beach. You’re still in your dress, but you ditch the shoes. Klaue does the same, but he’s changed into a cotton beach outfit on that you’ve picked out for him and some shades. He’s opted for shorts and his shirt only has a few buttons done.

The beach is beautiful with the expanse of sea to one side and a seemingly never ending shoreline of sand and dense trees on another. You spot a few animals, too. A couple of wild pigs poke their heads out from the trees for a second before disappearing back into the brush. Birds flock to the sand and pick at the shore for a meal. Klaue walks over to where the sand meets the grass and scoops up something in his hands.

It’s a spider.

He tries to hand it to you, but you refuse. He insists and steps behind you. Calmly, he says, “Take a deep breath. It won’t hurt you ‘less it gets scared.”

When you’ve steeled yourself, he brings his arms around you and guides you to cup your hands together. “Steady,” he says as he allows the spider to crawl from his hand to yours.

Spindly legs barely make contact with your skin and you move your hands away with a shriek. “Can’t! Nope!” you exclaim.

He laughs while you brush your hands off on your dress like the creature left some kind of residue.

You watch him allow the spider to crawl from hand to hand without so much as flinching and ask, “How are you not creeped out?”

“Been to a lot of places with worse things,” he says setting the spider back down in the sand. “Some places, these things are everywhere. Just have to get used to it.”

The two of you continue walking and you’re still in awe of the fact that no one else is around, just the two of you. The beach house is the size of your pinky off in the distance.

You stand on the shore, toes flexing in the sand as the tide comes in to cool them. Klaue stands a little bit away from you with his hands in his pockets. He’s just watching you and you can’t help, but feel that he wants to say something.

“You still plan on taking me on a boat?” you ask looking over your shoulder.

It takes him a moment to process your question, but he nods. “Oh, yeah,” he says, a a grin slowly forming on his features. “Yeah, I still plan on that.”

He steps towards you. “Gonna have my own island some day,” he adds.

“Really? Can I come?” you ask.

He chuckles. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “You can keep me company, feed me grapes, and maybe a few other things.”

He whispers the last part in your ear and pinches your backside making you squeak. You playfully smack him and he laughs.

Somehow the two of you end up knee deep in the water. You can’t resist splashing water up at him, drenching him and his clothes. You double over in laughter as he just frowns. He reminds you of a feline who’s had a rather unfortunate encounter with the water with the way he’s scowling. You splash him again and laugh almost uncontrollably. He just nods in a way that says “you’re gonna get it” and starts making his way towards you.

You hardly stand a chance trying to escape from him, especially in the water. “C’mere!” he says scooping you up in his arms.

“No, no!” you protest. You wrap your arms around his neck tightly, sensing he’s going to toss you into the water. “U-Uri, wait! Wait!”

“For what?” he chuckles. “I haven’t done anything, yet.”

“Don’t drop me in the water!” you warn, trying to stay stern, but a nervous laugh creeps through. “I mean it!”

Of course he doesn’t listen. He walks a little further out from the shore and tosses you into the water. You come up and his head is thrown back as he laughs.

Back at the house, you shower and put on some shorts and a shirt then join him outside on the deck. You sit next to him on couch.

The sun is at it’s highest point in the sky and you’re grateful for the canopy covering the deck.

You’ve helped yourself to some of the wine and he’s got a glass of what smells like rum, on the rocks. He takes a drink and sets the glass down on a table in front of the two of you.

“Can I ask why?” he asks.

It takes you a moment to process what he means. “Oh, uh, you mean why I-”

“Feel the way you do. About me,” he clarifies. “I’m curious.”

Now he’s put you on the spot. Not one for being subtle, he’s usually straight forward and to the point.

You look up at the canopy as you think.

It’s difficult to put into words what you see in him; he’s not what most people would deem as an objectively good person given what he does, but he’s good to you and that’s what matters to you.

“You don’t treat me like I’m beneath you,” you say. “When I’m with you, I’m a person.”

He scratches his beard thoughtfully. “That so?”

“With anyone else,” you continue, fidgeting with your wine glass, “I felt like I didn’t matter to them and with you that’s different. We actually do things together and I like the time I spend with you.”

He’s silent as he downs the rest of his drink.

You continue. “I guess, it’s silly, but I always imagined we could just...disappear somewhere together. Go anywhere we want and not worry about the rest of the world...But I know you can’t do that.”

“No, I can’t,” he says taking a piece of ice between his teeth and crunching on it. “There’s a world out there with my name on it. I intend to leave my mark wherever I can.”

The two of you have had a few drinks now while you talk and you’re not sure about him, but you’re feeling warm and fuzzy. “Oh,” you say as a thought comes to mind. “Here, let’s take a picture before we go. Who knows when we’ll be back here.”

You grab your phone and he chuckles as he scoots closer next to you. Relief washes over you knowing he’s not bothered with indulging you in these little things.

You smile and he just gives a smug smolder to the front facing camera. You snap a few shots, doing a couple of different smiles and he’s just making goofy faces. For one of the pictures he grabs your face, squishing it playfully and kisses your cheek. For another he just rests his head in the crook of your neck, most of his face hidden, leaving an icy blue eye poking out to the camera.

You take your phone and scroll through the photos deleting a couple of mishaps. Klaue just watches your phone as you scroll through the photos.

The image flashes on the screen for a moment and you quickly lock your phone screen with wide eyes.

“Wait,” he says. “Go back. What was that?”

He’s seen them.

“Nothing,” you say. “Just a glitch I think.”

How could you have forgotten to delete them.

He furrows his brow. “Go back to it,” he says.

“Another drink?” you deflect as you take his empty glass and yours inside to the bar.

You set the glasses down on an empty counter opposite the bar. You can’t believe you still have those nude photos on your phone and now he’s seen them.

From behind you, you feel Klaue’s body pressing against you, his hands on either side on the counter cage you. Your phone is still in your hand, your grip tight around it.

“Let me see,” he purrs in your ear.

“I-It’s nothing,” you weakly insist.

You gasp as his hips roll into yours pushing you against the counter. You’ve been here before and are no less susceptible to it now than you were then.

“Show me,” Klaue whispers in your ear. “Show Daddy the pictures you took.”

Biting your lip, you place your phone face up on the counter and go to the photo gallery. You’re trembling, not from embarrassment, but from the heat that starts to pool between your legs. Klaue’s face peers over your shoulder and watches you navigate to the pictures. Slowly, you scroll past the selfies the two of you have taken until you arrive at the pictures that were meant for him, that you were too nervous to send, but had forgotten to delete. There you are, fully nude save for the jewelry he had gifted you.

There’s a low hum that rumbles in his throat and with him pressed against you, you can feel it vibrate through you.

He turns his head so his lips are right on your ear. “What’s that?” he says tapping on one of the photos so it blows up across the whole screen.

“The second day,” you say. “I took some pictures.”

“For what?”

“For you.”

He sighs and rolls his hips against you again. You bite your lip feeling his hard erection press against your.

“How come I haven’t seen them?” he asks.

“Ah!” He’s thrusting harshly against your ass and kissing your neck. “I forgot to send them,” you say.

“Liar,” he growls with his mouth against your skin. His teeth graze you and you gasp as he begins to suckle on your skin. He’s sure to leave a mark.

He’s covering you with open mouth kisses, his tongue hot on your skin. You brace yourself against the counter as your breathing quickens.

“Uri, please,” you say trying to keep yourself standing, your knees feel so weak from how tightly your legs are clenched together.

“Please what?” he asks.

You turn around to face him and just kiss him deeply. He returns it passionately and the two of you are soon a frantic scramble of tongues and limbs. One of your hands grips his shirt to pull him close and your other arm wraps around him. His strong hands grip your thighs and lift you onto the counter. Mouth never leaving yours, he moves in between your legs and roughly grinds against you.

“I wanted to send them to you,” you say trailing kisses along his face and neck. “Make you feel the way I do.”

He groans and he nearly rips your clothes trying to get them over your head and off of you. He takes off his shirt as you remove the rest of your clothes until you’re naked on the counter.

“Why didn’t you?” he growls, taking one of your nipples hungrily into his mouth.

Your fingers tangle into his hair as you arch your body towards him. “Nerves,” you breathe out.

Klaue’s ravenous with the way his hands run along your body, every pass over your skin burns more than the last. One hand trails up to take hold of your neck and jaw as he straightens up. He brings your face to him and kisses you hungrily, swallowing your moans while his other hand works to undo his belt and pants.

Your reach down to retrieve his thick cock. Thumb brushing over the tip, you can feel it’s already weeping for you. His fingers find their way to your clit and begin to tease you. “Come first for me, baby,” he says.

With shaky breaths, you’re grinding against his hand fervently. You can hardly focus on pumping his length when he touches you just right. “Right there, Ulysses, oh fuck, right there, please,” you beg. Your hands grip his shoulders harshly as he applies more pressure to your clit. The coil inside you aches to come undone.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Klaue groans. “So wet for me.”

His fingers brush your clit directly and your arms wrap around him tightly, caging his body to yours as you climax. He lets out a satisfied moan and stuffs two fingers inside of you, slowing pumping them as you ride out your orgasm. “That’s it, baby,” he says curling his fingers deliciously inside you.

He removes his fingers then lines himself up with your entrance. Klaue slowly enters you until he’s fully sheathed in your warmth. You cry out loudly as he fills you. “Fuck!” you shout. “F-Fuck me, Uri. Fuck me, please.”

He shudders and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. He starts thrusting hard into you, his hands gripping your hips and ass and pulling you to him to meet his thrusts. You grip his face in your hands and kiss him, whining into his mouth as he hits a spot deep inside of you that only he knows how to reach.

At the moment you come up for air, Klaue lifts you off the counter. you hold onto him as he carries you across the room to where the couches are. He sets you on your back on one of them and your legs get thrown over his shoulders. “When I’m through with you, there won’t be a thought left in that pretty head of yours,” he says huskily.

Your cunt clenches around him and he resumes pounding into you, the new angle allowing him to penetrate you further. Loud cries of pleasure escape you as he bottoms out with each thrust. He leans forward bringing your knees closer to your head and you swear you can feel him in your belly. When his hands capture yours and pin them above your head, it’s like you might dissipate beneath him. The motion pushes your knees further towards you and you become acutely aware of every inch of his cock sliding into you. You’re so wet that there’s hardly any friction to his thrusts as he slams into your cunt, the sounds of him fucking you filling the room.

“Is this what you wanted me to do when you took those pictures?” Klaue asks without letting up on his thrusts, sweat on his brow and desire in his eyes.

“Y-Yes!” you choke out. “God, yes!”

“Wanted me to just fuck you senseless?”

“Yes!”

With a low growl, Klaue holds you to him and, with his cock still inside you, maneuvers expertly on the couch so that he’s sitting up and you’re riding him. His hands cup your ass to help bounce you on his cock and he lets out loud satisfied groans watching his member impale you.

You brace yourself on his shoulders, driving yourself down on him. His head tilts back, his blue eyes looking up at you like he means to devour you. It makes your walls clench around him causing his eyes to roll back.

“You feel so good inside me,” you cry out.

His hand lets go of your ass to tease your clit again. At first he’s gentle, his thumb tracing circles over it, but then he’s pressing it directly. It sends sharp synapses of pleasure through you. You feel the coil in you tightening again, almost to the point of breaking, it’s being wound so tight.

Your body quivers as you come again and you feel your walls clench tightly around his cock. Firmly, Klaue wraps an arm around you. His thumb still presses on your clit and when he rubs it ever so slightly it overstimulates you. “Baby, I-...it’s t-too much,” you whimper as your hips still from the sensations that start to cloud your senses.

He continues thrusting, though not as hard, but the feeling from his cock and his thumb after having just orgasmed is intense. It’s a high you’re trying to chase and escape all at once.

“You can take it, baby,” Klaue coaxes. He mutters something in Dutch. “Fuck, you’re getting so wet from this, fuck.”

“U-U-Uri, please!” You beg. “Ulysses! I c-can’t!”

“You can. Told you I want your head empty when I’m done with you,” he groans.

Your vision is blurry though you can hardly keep your eyes open and you’re just a whimpering babbling mess on his cock until you finally find release.

It’s like lightning coursing inside you when you come again. Your eyes water and you let out a high pitched mewl as the lower half of your body convulses. You wrap your arms around Klaue and slump against him as he grabs your hips and pistons into you. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he says. “Oh, look at the mess you made.”

He gives one final hard thrust and comes inside of you. Your thighs tremble a bit at feeling the warm ropes coat your walls.

Klaue’s hands cup your face and hold you to look at him as the two of you pant heavily with half lidded eyes.

The tears spill over your waterline, but something tells you it’s not from having just had a mind shattering orgasm.

You can pretend that tomorrow you’ll wake up here with him beside you, but the truth looms over you like a storm and your tears are the rain.

His thumbs wipe away the teardrops at the corner of your eyes and he chuckles weakly. “You did good, sweetheart,” he says before kissing you.

After getting cleaned up and some rest for you in particular, you insist that the two of you watch the sunset from the beach before leaving.

It’s still light out, but the sun is setting when the two of you make it out to the shore. You admire the view, some birds flock together and make for the horizon and the clouds rush by with the warm wind.

Living in the city usually makes scenery like this feel like a fantasy, something far off that you can only see in pictures. People can tell you it’s out there, but for you it’s never felt attainable. But standing on the beach with Klaue, just the two of you, living like this in peace and quiet suddenly seems possible.

Klaue is some feet away from you, crouched down in the sand combing through the grains with a concentrated brow. He picks up something, a shell, and tosses it carelessly aside.

“What’re you looking for?” you ask.

He straightens up and makes his way to you. He holds his hand out.

In his palm are what appear to be opaque colored rock shards. The edges are smoothed over, but you can make out where they were once sharp and theres a frosty glassiness to the green and teal colored pieces.

“Sea glass,” he says. “Glass that’s been weathered by the water.”

“They’re beautiful,” you say in awe. This is the sort of thing you only see in gift shops where you often question the authenticity.

“Green’s common, blue is somewhat rare. Found some orange pieces years ago which is very hard to come by,” he explains as he holds each one up to the light of the sun. “Orange glass isn’t used for things like bottles or jars so you don’t see it much. Red glass is the most expensive since it uses gold to achieve its color.”

He inspects the pieces and tosses them back to the sands until he settles on one he likes in particular. He hands it to you.

You turn the treasure over in your hand, admiring it’s beauty.

The sun descends and your hand finds Klaue’s, your fingers lacing with his. He pulls his hand away and for a brief moment you’re crestfallen, thinking he’s rebuffing your affection. Instead he takes a step closer to you and puts his arm around you. Your arms find their way around his waist.

"Thank you again, for bringing me here,” you say.

He’s quiet, his expression stoic as he stares out at the water. His profile is striking in this light; the setting sun catching the sharp angle of his jaw and brow.

“We’ll have to come back sometime,” he finally says with a sigh.

You reach up to touch his cheek and guide his face towards you so you can look at him. His blue eyes have that same usual sternness to them, but somehow right now they appear soft. Maybe it’s the way his irises catch the twilight.

“I’d like that,” you say softly.

The last remnants of light fade and he kisses you. His hand cradles the back of your head as he deepens the kiss. It’s gentle; he pulls away, but only a bit to allow his lips to briefly brush over yours before he goes back in again, like he can’t resist you.

Stars pepper the night sky and a cool breeze sweeps across the sandy shore and rustles through the trees. Everything suddenly becomes quiet save for the sound of the sea.

“Better get going,” Klaue says.

Once you leave the beach house and you’re in the car, it all comes back to you.

Klaue will leave you in the morning.

He’ll leave you in the morning and you don’t know when you’ll see him let alone hear from him again. You’ll busy yourself as much as you can to take your mind off the fact that he’s somewhere on the other side of the world and you’ll tell yourself that he’s as much yours as you are his.

But that isn’t true.

He’s not yours.

Back at your apartment, in the warmth of your bed, you can’t sleep. You’re not sure what time it is, but you guess that morning can’t be more than a few hours away.

He’s rolled over onto his stomach, arms tucked under the pillow beneath his head, curls falling over his face.

He’s not yours and you can’t take another day of feeling alone in love. Your heart can’t take another day of wanting and waiting. He can’t come back here and you can’t hold onto him anymore; it would only break your heart further. You have to end things.

And you have to be the one to leave him in the morning.

Quietly, you rise out of bed and get dressed.

More Notes: OKAY the spider tag cracked me UP because I was writing this and the scene was going to be more descriptive, but I thought that might scare some people who don’t like creepy crawlies! And then I figured that I better just prepare anyone who doesn’t like bugs so that’s why it’s there!

Also, if this chapter hurt your soul then I have achieved my goal! I apologize for nothing!

#IAFMWBTY #ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue x reader #klaue x reader #ulysses klaue smut #klaue smut

[the-eyes-of-andyserkis]

Bringin' Home the Rain - Chapter 4: "Flames"

Masterlist

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Word count: 5.1K Chapters: 4/5 Rating: Explicit

Chapter Summary: You're not sure what's going to happen now, but you know that you've crossed a line, one there's no chance of coming back from.

Warnings: Explicit Rating, Alcohol, Blood and Injury, Minor Injuries, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Age Difference, Masturbation, Smut, PWP, But a bit of Plot if you squint, Dirty Talk, Praise, Teasing, Oral (M! Receiving), Teasing, Reference to Predator/Prey, Vaginal Fingering, Soft Dom, Hair pulling, Begging, Finger Sucking

A/N: I'm back! Thank you so much for your patience, it feels a bit silly that 5.1K took me this long but I just need to remind myself that everyone writes differently, and there's also there's that pesky full time job and all. I really thought this chapter wasn't going to take too long because it was the one I had the most written for, but it didn't quite work out that way! Ah well, we still got there. I hope you enjoy! ❤

Title is from the song "Bringin' Home the Rain" by The Builders and the Butchers.

AO3 Link

All your kin have all gone on  to fields all bathed in sun And the only things left in your possession  is an empty bottle and a gun

Your heart is racing and blood thunders in your ears as you quickly make your way back to your quarters white trying to process not only what you had just done, but how good it felt.

Once you sensed that Klaue was past the point of no return, when he was growling and panting and desperate, your own desire, deep and liquid took over and the look in his eyes when his hand wrapped around his cock gave you everything. Molten blue and roiling at the edges with relief and lust and something else akin to a promise.

When you walked out of the room it had been with a feeling of satisfaction, of finally having the upper hand, and it was a heady sensation. But as the distance between you and your workroom grows you start to regret leaving and find yourself hoping that he’ll follow you, a surge of nervous exhilaration spreading through your rib cage with that realization. Unfortunately you have no idea whether he will, and if he doesn’t how long will you have to wait before you see him again? He had mentioned that he was only at the compound for a few days, and once he leaves it's possible he could be gone for weeks.

You're surprised by how disappointed this thought makes you feel.

You think about turning around, but at the same time you know that you probably need to give yourself a chance to cool off and just think about these last couple of days and to try to figure out what, if anything, you actually want from Klaue. 

Even as the logical part of your brain tries to throw reason at you, you can’t help but glance back over your shoulder in the vain hope that you’ll see him, but because you’re not paying attention to your footing the toe of your boot catches on an uneven tile causing you to stumble, and while you manage to catch yourself you decide it’s a sign that you definitely need to take the cool down option. 

Leaning against the wall you press the flat of your hand against your diaphragm, focusing on the pressure while taking several deep inhales until your breathing, though still too fast, starts to even out, and while you feel calmer when you start moving again your thoughts continue to spin. 

You’re still perplexed by the fact that Klaue didn’t get up and grab you as soon as you had walked in and found him on your couch. Thus far he hasn’t struck you as the kind of person to be particularly patient, to not simply take as soon as he had the opportunity, and after your argument that afternoon you can't imagine he was any less on edge than you, especially not after the text he had sent you.

Did he simply enjoy watching the tension on your psyche ratcheting tighter, getting a thrill from watching the threads of your sanity fraying one by one right in front of him? 

But then your thoughts wind their way back to yesterday’s encounter and something else occurs to you: That even though Klaue had sought you out, had moved so close you could feel the heat of his body, it wasn’t until you had pressed your ass back against him that he reached for you with a desperate grip.

Absently you pass a hand over your hips where his fingers had dug into your flesh and realize that you can feel a slight ache that hints at the whisper of a bruise below your skin, and the thought of Klaue marking you even faintly has the heat that he stokes so easily in you flaring up again.

And you think you know what I need? 

Yes, I think I fucking do, darling.

There’s something inside you that you can’t suppress, can’t reason with, when you’re around Klaue. A part of you that stirs and blinks its eyes in response to his presence, a part that has been sleeping fitfully while denying how desperately it wants to be woken up. 

In the past even when you had been with men who turned you on and could make you feel good you still instinctively held back, because in those moments when you started to feel comfortable and your desire for more drifted to the surface you could feel them start to pull away, suddenly uncertain of what to do with you. So instead you wrapped yourself up tight and tucked yourself away in the dim corners so that they wouldn’t have to think about you so much, just the parts of you that benefited them.

So you found satisfaction in other ways, and it never really bothered you that you spent most of your time alone in your search for the next precipice that would give you that rush. It was easy and uncomplicated, and you were content enough in the adventure of moving through the world on your own that you rarely noticed any lack. 

Then, unexpectedly, Ulysses Klaue had found an edge that you didn’t think was meant for you. He drew you towards it, coaxed your eyes open and encouraged you to peer over into the abyss while relishing the need that he was building in you, that seemed to bloom and swell to fill the crevices you thought were cemented over with disuse and resignation. You had tried to deny it as long as you could even when you became overwhelmed by how badly you ached for him, because then you wouldn’t have to admit that you needed anything (anyone) at all.

Shaking yourself free of your thoughts you try to keep your face neutral as you reach the busier common areas where you start to see others heading to and from their shifts or picking up something at the canteen.

When you reach the main passage connecting the workshops to crew quarters you suddenly hear your name, and even though you subconsciously know that it’s not his voice your heart still jumps with anticipation until you actually register that it’s just Tom walking towards you.

“Woah,” he puts out a calming hand. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“Yeah!” You say a little too loudly at first. “Yes, I’m fine really, I just..” Scrambling to come up with a reply, you decide to go with the simplest explanation. “It’s just been a long day, I had to do a job for Klaue this afternoon with no warning.” Fortunately Tom’s frown of concern quickly softens with understanding.

“Ah, yes that’ll do it. Did everything go okay?”

“Pretty uneventful, I guess? But I really wanted to get some other things done today so it wasn’t ideal timing. Didn’t really have much choice though, I guess,” you shrug, you think you’re doing a pretty good job of keeping it together, but when you absently lick your lips you realize with a jolt that you can still taste him there. The sound around you fades out as the memory of how Klaue’s cock felt against your tongue overwhelms you, and it takes all of your willpower to force your concentration back to what Tom is saying.

“-not really how this whole thing works, is it?” 

“Yeah, no, I suppose not,” you reply, shifting your bag and jacket from one arm to the other and trying to sound nonchalant. “Anyway, I’m really tired so I’m just going to head back to my quarters and try to decompress.”

“Of course. Get some rest,” he says as you start to walk away.

Thanks, but not much chance of that right now, friend.

“Thanks, I will. See you tomorrow!” you say in a rush with a wave over your shoulder.

The number of people around you slows to a trickle until it’s just you again when you reach the main warren of apartments, but after making the last turn down your hallway you freeze when you see a figure waiting outside your door. 

Klaue is perhaps fifteen feet away from you with his back against the wall, arms crossed against his chest and a look of anticipation shading his features. He has the decency to look disheveled at least, shirt half tucked in and belt not properly fastened, but when his head swivels towards you at the sound of your gasp his eyes instantly fix on you like a predator sighting his prey.

“Klaue! How did you..?” you start but then trail off, trying to work out how he beat you here even with your brief stop to chat.

“Maintenance tunnels,” he replies simply, pushing himself away from the wall and turning to face you. “I told you I own this place, and I know every inch of it.” A flash of gold glints with the smug curl of his lips, and you’re reminded of how wet you still are as a fresh ache blooms through your core under the heat of his gaze.

“Ok,” you breathe. “And how do you know where my room is, specifically?” Trying to keep a relaxed expression on your face you start slowly walking towards him.

He tilts his head and you watch as his eyes flick down and back up the length of your body.

“You don’t think I’ve known since you got here?” The implication has your pulse racing and your steps falter briefly. 

Klaue may not be the one moving but even in his stillness you can’t shake the sensation that he’s stalking you. The hunched set of his shoulders and arms held stiff at his sides makes it seem as though he’s bracing for something and your chest tightens, the prey instinct to run tangling with anticipation as the distance between you quickly shrinks.

“And even if I didn't”, he continues, his voice dropping a dangerous octave, "Did you really think you could do something like that and I would just let you walk away?”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you finally come to a stop in front of him.

“I mean, it kind of seemed that way,” you manage to reply, once again shocked at how being near him entirely decimates your sense of self preservation.

“Well, you certainly tried, didn’t you?" Klaue growls and then suddenly he’s moving, his broad frame crowding you until your back thumps against the door causing you to drop your things. He doesn't actually touch you yet but he’s close enough that your breasts nearly brush his chest with every breath and the partially unfastened belt buckle brushes against your hip, metal jingling softly in the empty hallway. 

Looming over you Klaue once again seems to be waiting for something, so as badly as you want to touch him you decide to test the limits of your theory (his limits), determined to wait him out this time.

“So you followed me to what, give me a piece of your mind?” Your voice is defiant even as you throb at his proximity, hands clenched into fists at your sides.

“No. Not quite.” he says, teasingly.

“So then you’re just going to stand there and glare at me? Again?” Your intentions to keep calm are rapidly evaporating as frustration bubbles up through your words.

Klaue raises a questioning eyebrow at you.

"In my workroom. Why didn't you- ?” You’re not really sure how to work out how to say everything that you want to and his eyes searing into you makes it difficult to find any words at all, so you only manage to stammer, “You just..sat there.”

He gives you an infuriating smirk. 

"Well, I was enjoying the show,” he says, lowering his gaze at you. “And you were enjoying giving it to me, weren’t you?" You flush, surprised at how easily he could read you.

"So, I wanted to see what else you would do.” The look in Klaue’s eyes is dark and self-satisfied, his voice a rumble of thunder over a distant horizon. ”And you certainly didn’t disappoint me.”

So he had been waiting, had been patiently watching while you showed him the corners where you were weak, where he could tease you open.

“Yes, you certainly got what you wanted,” you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“I did,” Klaue acquiesces. “But not the way that you think.”

“And what do I think?”

“That I just wanted you to suck my cock.” He says, clearly enjoying the effect of his words when your tongue flicks out to lick your lips.

“You..didn’t want that?” Your eyebrow arches in mock confusion.

“Oh, I certainly did,” Klaue chuckles deep in his chest. “I’ve thought about how your mouth would feel around my cock since the first night I met you.” 

You feel a dark sting of pride at his admission, but you’re coming to the end of your patience.

“So then, what?” You implore.

Unexpectedly Klaue reaches a hand up to your face and you’re startled by how gentle his fingers are, barely ghosting along the line of your jaw.

“I got to give you something that you needed.” Klaue hums, a shiver rippling through your body as his thumb traces down the curve of your throat.

“Ah, of course,” you say, frustration prickling in your veins even as you fight to control your breathing. “Because you know what I need, right? Well, why don’t you tell me what that is since you seem to be so sure,” you challenge, voice laced with defiance.

“To stop holding back.” he says sharply. “To admit what you want. So be honest,” Klaue’s blue eyes seem to glint with a strange hidden light, like the inward flames of a secret obsession. “Why do you keep pushing me?"

"Because I want you to push me back!" This you punctuate by bracing your hands against his chest and shoving hard.

Klaue only stumbles back at all because you caught him off guard and in a flash he recovers, hands suddenly gripping your arms and pushing you against the door hard enough to knock the wind out of you and you gasp to catch your breath. His fingers dig into your flesh sending a deep twinge through your healed arm causing you to instinctively jerk your shoulder in a useless attempt to loosen his hold on you, yet the sound that you make isn’t one of pain, and when you meet his eyes you can see that he knows it.

You feel euphoric at the fact that he’s barely even trying to restrain you, that all of your strength means nothing against a fraction of the weight of him. You bite your lip in an attempt to suppress the giddy smile that’s threatening to surface, thighs pressing together as the ache between them becomes unbearable

“Don’t bite your lip, darling. Keep going,” Klaue demands.

“I want you to fuck me," you say in a rush, yours words low and desperate as you finally give voice to the thoughts that have been haunting you for weeks. “And I don’t want you to be gentle. I want you to make me take every inch of your cock. I want it so badly it makes me feel insane and, god, I can’t stop thinking about you and I just want you to make me forget how to think.”

Dark satisfaction colors Klaue’s eyes and when you’ve finished he leans in close, so that the tip of his nose brushes the crest of your ear.

“Very good,” he purrs. “You used your words so well.” His voice is barely above a whisper but you’re certain that you can hear a tremble in his words. “So, you want me to make you come on my cock, is that right?” 

All that comes out of your mouth is a tortured whimper as the dark timber of his voice makes your cunt clench.

“That’s not an answer,” he taunts.

“Yes,” you pant. “Please.” His fingers tighten around your arms at that. 

“Good”, he sounds pleased as he pulls back to look you in the eyes again. “But first, you’re going to come on my fingers,” he says matter-of-factly, your eyelids fluttering at his words. “Then, I’m going to feel you come under my tongue.” 

"What? N-no, I don’t-'' Feeling dazed you start to stammer a protest that that’s not something that happens for you, but then one of Klaue’s hands is gripping your jaw and the sudden pressure of his fingers cuts your words off with a startled cry.

“Oh darling, it’s sweet that you think you aren’t going to come as many times as I want you to."  Klaue leans down so that he’s right in your face, the lilt of his words swirling directly to your center. “Because once I have you a dripping mess for me, I’m going to fuck you to within an inch of your life.”

Finally Klaue presses his mouth roughly against yours, swallowing your moan as you clench at his promise. The hand on your jaw moves to grasp the back of your neck, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you against him and you arch in response, wanting to find as much contact as possible. Your arms move to hold onto his shoulders and you thrill at the firm curve of the muscles that move and flex under your fingers as he grabs you.

The string of tension in your body has finally snapped and with relief you willingly supplicate yourself, opening your mouth to allow him entrance as the kiss quickly consumes you, all tongues and teeth and desperate greedy flames seeking ever more oxygen, wanting nothing more than to burn.

You fumble to pull the keycard out of your pocket, managing to break away from his lips long enough to pant, “Door.” He grabs your wrist and holds the hand gripping the key up to the sensor, and you’re relieved when you hear the distinct beep as the lock releases. Klaue releases you, allowing you to grab your things from where you had dropped them before unceremoniously pushing you inside and slamming the door shut behind you.

A single lamp illuminates your small apartment and once inside you blindly toss everything into a corner, barely hitting the floor before you feel Klaue’s arm encircling your waist and he’s hauling you back, lifting you with one arm as though you weigh nothing and then he’s pushing you against the door again, trapping you with his body.

“So, I take it you like that idea?” he teases, strong hands sliding down your waist to roughly massage your hips and ass.

“Yes,” you rut against him to punctuate your reply, hands moving down from his shoulders to find the buttons of his shirt, reveling in the feeling of his chest hair under your fingers as you work one free.

A hand moves to your face to guide your mouth back to his but he’s more controlled now, dragging his lips across yours, igniting every nerve, and you give in to him with no hesitation. He coaxes your mouth open further with his tongue, your own need welcoming his demand for more, making pleased sounds as he licks deeper into your mouth, alternating teasing and devouring until you’re breathless.

Both of Klaue’s hands move to your waist before sliding slowly higher until they’re skimming along the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming achingly close to your nipples. Klaue rasps a deep chuckle when you gasp and arch your back trying to press yourself more firmly against his palms, but they’re already moving back down to your hips and you thought that you had ached for him before. 

“I need you,” you pant against his mouth. “Need you to fuck me so bad.” Your fingers are trembling as you fumble to release another button.

“Hmmm,” Klaue’s hands brush across the front of your hips and he smirks when the muscles of your stomach tense, and then he's dipping his thumbs just beneath your waistband. “I will, darling, but here’s the thing,” he sighs, almost sounding resigned, as though there was nothing he could do about it. “I said I was going to make you come, but I didn’t say I was going to do it quickly, did I?” 

You can only whimper, becoming more fervid with every word. “I promised you two orgasms before I fuck you, and you did me a favor by sucking my cock earlier because now I can take my time with you.” His voice is dark and rough as granite.

“Please,” the word is steeped in desperation. “I need you now.“ Giving up on the buttons you tighten your fists around the fabric of his shirt. 

“Not good enough, I'm afraid,” he taunts, and you try to swallow the tears that are starting to prick at your eyes. “Just because I enjoy seeing you greedy doesn't mean there aren't going to be consequences to your actions. But that's what you wanted, isn’t it?”

You moan as another surge of dampness floods your core and you start to lift a leg to wrap around his hip, trying to open yourself up so that you can grind your center against him for some relief, but his hand stops you.

“Stay still,” he commands sharply, pushing your leg back down, forcing you to keep both together and waiting until he’s satisfied that you’re going to listen. 

Then, keeping one hand on your hip Klaue moves the other under your shirt, the leather cuffs on his wrist catching on the fabric before sliding his palm up and over your breast and you gasp when he finds your nipple, brushing a thumb over the hard nub through the thin lace of your bra. Klaue continues this for several moments, before moving to your other breast for the same treatment until you’re glassy-eyed and writhing, your need growing unbearable and made even worse by the fact that you can feel the thick ridge of his cock once again stiffening against your abdomen. Suddenly he rolls and pinches the sensitive peak between his thumb and forefinger causing your entire body to tense with a startled cry as your cunt clenches desperately around nothing.

Dropping his head Klaue dips his tongue into the hollow of your shoulder between your carotid and clavicle, the wet drag of his tongue across your skin contrasting with the scrape of his beard and the teasing pinch his fingers all adding to the way he's already overstimulating you. 

Pulling back slightly he fits his other hand between your bodies so that it can make its way beneath the waistband of your pants, your own hands moving to try to push them down somewhat to give him more room.

With a gasp you buck into his touch as his hand slides over your sex and down between your legs, and when he feels how you’ve soaked through the fabric there he groans, the hand on your breast faltering in its ministrations.

“Christ, I could bend you over and let you have my cock right now and you’d take me perfectly, so fucking wet already.”

You can’t form meaningful words, can only let out a thick “Yes” as you try to press your mound more firmly against his hand.

“Of course, you know that’s not going to happen,” he teases.

“God, you’re such an-”

Your words are cut off when Klaue’s hand suddenly pushes under the edge of your underwear and then his middle finger is sliding along your cleft, just barely parting you but you’re so wet that even with the slight pressure he can feel your arousal. Continuing a teasing slide along your slick sex one of his booted feet nudges yours apart, widening your stance just enough so that when his finger slides down again he can reach your soaked entrance and you tilt your hips, trying to encourage him to sink his finger inside of you.

“Been like this since you sucked my cock?” Klaue grits out.

"More like since this afternoon", you admit with a wry laugh that turns to a stuttered gasp at the stretch when he finally dips his finger into your slick heat.

“When I reminded you that you need to do what you're told?" 

You can only whimper in response when his palm finally presses against your aching clit and he curls his finger deeper inside of you, and the relief from the stretch of even one of his fingers has your hips quickly finding a satisfying rhythm of their own accord, but just as you start to feel the edges of your climax gathering deep in your belly he suddenly pulls his hand away. 

“I said stay still,” Klaue growls.

Crying out at the loss you grab frantically at his wrist as your hips continue to move, desperately seeking the friction again but he’s stronger, and while he lets you scrabble at him he easily keeps his hand just out of reach of where you need it. 

His other hand reaches up to slide into your hair and you gasp when he tightens his fingers around the strands, dark mirth shining in his eyes as he watches you panting and trembling. It takes all of your willpower but once your conscious mind understands that struggling is going to get you no closer to him touching your cunt again, you manage to regain some control.

“Shhh, ” Klaue murmurs. ‘That’s a good girl.” 

With that he returns his hand to your sex, sliding two fingers through your cleft to spread you open but keeping them on either side of your clit, stroking and slipping against your folds but not getting close enough, dragging his fingers around the sensitive nub, and every time you start to move your hips he stops and waits for you to be still before continuing. It doesn’t take much of this before you’re shaking again and so on edge that it takes a moment to register what he says next.

“So, are you going to do what you’re told now and come for me?”

Your eyes fly open and you're furious when you meet his gaze because he’s taunting you. You had already been so close before, and now he’s deliberately keeping the pressure of his fingers light and indirect.

“I want to,” your voice is thick with barely restrained tears. “But it’s not enough.”  

“Hmm, and you don’t think that I wanted to come in your mouth?” Klaue growls.

“Fuck,” you let out a frustrated sob

"Try again,” he says, a finger sliding down to gather more of your slick before drawing back up to circle just around where you need him to touch, and if you could form thoughts right now one of them might be that this must be what going mad actually feels like.

"Yes,” you pant. "I should have let you. God, I wanted to swallow your come." Your words are desperate and true and they seem to please him because his fingers finally press down on your aching clit and you moan, still trying to move as little as possible as he continues to swipe over the sensitive bud, the deep pressure in your core finally starting to reach a crest.

"I'm so close,” you whimper.

“Then what do you say?” Klaue growls, 

Your mind is spinning but the words still form, barely more than a whisper when they slip from your throat, "I'm sorry.” 

His hand tightens in your hair, the sting in your scalp mixing with the edge of your climax. 

“What was that, darling?” 

“Please don’t stop, oh god I’m sorry- !" Your body goes stiff and you gasp, hanging breathless for an endless moment and then you're gone, crying out as your orgasm finally crashes through you. In freefall you cling to him, fingers of one hand twisted in the fabric of his shirt, the other still on his wrist where you can feel the muscles of his forearm flexing under your fingers as he continues to rub rough circles on your clit, only dimly aware of his whispered praises, "Yes, just like that klein mot."

You moan in breathless relief as waves of pleasure overwhelm you and you're no longer able to help it as your hips roll and jerk against his hand until the intensity of each wave starts to wane, and you feel like you can finally breathe again. You’re so slick now that even though you’re not prepared for it there’s almost no resistance when Klaue suddenly thrusts two fingers inside you, both of you groaning as you clench around them and ride out the last of your climax on his fingers.

“Christ, you came so well, darling.” Klaue murmurs, softening his grip on your hair, and as the euphoria starts to ebb you become aware that he’s watching you intently, his soaked fingers still inside your fluttering cunt.

Only when your body finally goes limp does he withdraw his hand now shining with your juices, and then bringing it up to his mouth you watch mesmerized as starts to clean you off of his fingers. You moan at the sight and when he sees that you’re watching he instead presses two fingers against your lips which you part without question, making a pleased sound when you start to suck them.

“Don’t you taste good, darling?” He drags his fingers in and out of your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, making sure that you taste yourself. “So nice, cleaning me up like this,” he says, but his teasing smile goes dark when you slide your lips all the way to the base of his fingers so that they touch the back of your throat, your eyes staying fixed on his.

Something shifts in his gaze and he suddenly pulls his fingers out of your mouth which you release with a soft pop, and then moving both arms around your waist to support your still shaky legs he guides you across the small room to stand at the foot of your bed. 

A hand reaches up to cup your cheek and you look up at him with a pleased expression but it’s short-lived when his grip suddenly tightens and you gasp in surprise but he holds you there, not allowing you to look away.

"It’s still my turn, and I'm nowhere near done with you yet.” Klaue’s smile is feral as he releases you and steps back, leaving you cold and swaying on unsteady legs as he starts to unbuckle his belt.

"Now, take your clothes off for me," he commands, and even though you just came, his words reignite the embers of your arousal to a low burning flame.

Thank you again for reading! I make no promises about the timeline of Chapter 5 (because clearly I have no idea about these things 😂) but it's definitely in progress, I promise! ❤️

#bringin' home the rain fic #ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue x f reader #ulysses klaue x reader #ulysses klaue x you #mcu #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction

[sweetsmellosuccess]

Black Panther Live: Philadelphia Orchestra

Five thoughts on a fabulous Sunday afternoon with the orchestra at the Kimmel Center in downtown Philadelphia

The Kimmel Center is a wonderful place to hear the orchestra, but needs a larger movie screen. So much was wonderful about the experience of seeing Ryan Coogler’s 2018 film, which remains one of the high-water marks of the entire MCU, accompanied by the Philadelphia Orchestra, one of the world’s finest ensembles, along with world-renowned tama “living drum” master, Massamba Diop, that the one glaring downside  —  the Kimmel’s movie screen feels more than a tad small for the space its filling  — stood out. The acoustics are grand, the seats comfortable, the space itself inviting and spectacular, so the lone weak link in the production was the screen, dwarfed, as it was, by everything else around it. It certainly wasn’t a deal-breaker by any means, but one could easily see how much more impact a larger image might have on the whole enterprise. I understand it’s not something the Kimmel does on a very regular basis, but still well worth looking into. 

The film has aged powerfully, if not steeped in the tragic. There is much to love about Coogler’s film  —  so many scenes one could look forward to with anticipatory glee  — but every scene, even the goofy camaraderie between T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman) and his kid sister, Shuri (Letitia Wright)  —  becomes shaded in somber tones due to Boseman’s tragic death back in 2020. It’s difficult to watch the film, even as joyful an expression of multiculturalism as it is, and not feel the weight of that loss (very much well-covered in the film’s sequel, Wakanda Forever, in which the loss of Boseman permeates every moment). All leading roles are designed to be central to a film’s focus, but Boseman’s generous warmth and decency powers the entire operation in such a way that you can’t imagine anyone else in the role (as evidenced in the sequel’s difficulty in trying to fill the Panther’s be-clawed boots). As good as Coogler’s film is  —  and, in the writing and storytelling, specifically, it’s among the very best of the MCU  —  it doesn’t work half as well without Boseman’s presence. I spent much of the film’s first act with tears welling in my eyes. He remains a tremendous loss. 

Andy Serkis’ Ulysses Klaue is a fabulous villain, but Killmonger remains king. If the MCU indeed has a #villainproblem, Panther managed to offer not one great baddie, but two, and for totally different reasons. It’s easy to hate Klaue  —  a gregarious mercenary, filled with evil bonhomie and ruthless skullduggery (helpful that Serkis himself appears to be having such a blast in the role), who makes his nefarious living stealing precious items and selling them to the highest bidder, the world be damned  —  but Michael B. Jordan’s Killmonger is a whole other story. Ruthless, brutal, and terrifyingly focused, he is, as Martin Freeman’s character Agent Ross informs us, doing things exactly as he’s been trained to by the U.S. military black ops division. Killmonger’s point, that after centuries of suffering, it’s time for the racial hierarchy to be upended with black people on top, actually makes perfect sense, in any sort of just world, even if his methodology is aggressively savage. He’s such a compelling character, in fact, with pride, menace, and swag veritably dripping off of Jordan’s skin, it’s pretty clear Coogler, along with co-writer Joe Robert Cole, had to tip the morality scales a wee bit with Killmonger (having him threaten an innocent gardener, burn the sacred flowers to the ground so there can’t be any more panthers, and gut Forest Whitaker’s Zuri in cold blood, all while sneering contempt for the ancient ways of the Wakandans), in order to make the audience actually want him to lose at the end. To balance that balance, the screenwriters see fit to give him a hero’s sort of death, defiant, significant, and on his own terms. A lot of other actors would have withered against the powerhouse charisma of Jordan, but Boseman is well up to the task, which creates a spectacular dynamic between the two dedicated actors. 

Having the live orchestra, along with Massamba Diop, adds an element to the excellent soundtrack. Honestly, I’m not normally one who terribly much notices a film’s score  —  at least, at first listen  —  unless it’s dramatically amazing or frustratingly distracting, even one as solid as Ludwig Göransson’s work for Panther, but having it performed as a separate entity, in harmony with the film, but not directly of it, sets it off from the screen just enough to allow iit hit with that much more force, enhancing the entire experience. On top of that, with the master showman Diop front and center of the orchestra, set off in his own booth, facing the audience, and leaping to his feet at key orchestral moments, it sort of bridges the gap between film and theater. It’s a spectacle that crackles with energy. 

Seeing the film with a packed house of rabid devotees was a singular experience. The crowd was amped for this event, and I mean, they were loud, hype, and effusive. They cheered when the orchestra sat down, they cheered when the first violinist took the stage, they cheered when conductor Damon Gupton swung out, and they cheered wildly when Gupton introduced Diop, who came out in a shimmering orange robe/pants ensemble. They kept cheering throughout the film  —  when Okoye (Danai Gurira) answers as to whether she would cut down even her beloved (Daniel Kaluuya) in defense of her country by hissing “Without question!” the audience erupted in thunderous approval  —  and they kept a deep, respectful silence during Killmonger’s death scene. You didn’t hear any chattering. You didn’t see people checking their texts, or basketball scores. Everyone was there in respectful reverence to the film, which made for a glorious communal experience. This is why having an 85” flatscreen still can’t compare to watching a huge film in an enormous setting, amongst a throng of equally devoted true believers. There’s simply nothing else like it. 

#sweet smell of success #ssos #piers marchant #films #movies #black panther #philadelphia orchestra #massamba diop #ryan coogler #chadwick boseman #michael b. Jordan #danai gurira #daniel kaluuya #letitia wright #damon gupton #Ludwig Göransson

[imagineandimagine]

The Deal part four

Pairing: Ulysses x You.

Author’s note: There will be a few songs mentioned in this part, so I suggest that you listen to these songs while you read it. Here is the list in case you want to have it ready before you start reading.  Have fun!😉

Song list: Freeek by George Micheal

100 Ways by Austin Hull

Closer by Nine Inch Nails

 You were definitely distracted for the next few days. Did that night actually happen? Did you actually do that? Did HE actually do that? What was infuriating was that you did not see Ulysses for the next few days, no calls, just a few messages but they were all business related. How cold. Did he regret what happened? Did you go too far? It was almost impossible to do simple tasks without thinking about him.

Finally, a few days later, right when you were ready to go home you got a message from Ulysses that said There is a package for you at the front desk. You headed downstairs and the concierge handed you a large pink box.

When you got home you opened the box and the first thing you saw was a note: I need you again. Wear this. There was an address and time that you were supposed to show up at the club. You put the piece of paper aside and you took out a very well fitting dress. You also noticed something else in the box, it was matching underwear. The arrogance of this man. Should you actually wear it? You thought about it for a second. Truthfully, you didn’t like  being told what to do but the thought of letting him get a glimpse of the underwear he liked really excited you. You could always tease him by letting him get a look here and there, by accident of course.  The things I do for this job, you sighed to yourself.

You took a taxi to the club. When you gave the bouncer your name he led you to a private area.

The song Freeek by George Micheal started playing.

The bouncer lifted the velvet rope for you. You walked in and sat on a leather ottoman. A few men glanced at you from where they were sitting.

The bouncer leaned forward so you could hear him over the music “He will be with you shortly. Would you like something to drink?”

You told him what drink you wanted and he walked away. You were starting to feel anxious as you noticed some of the men nudging each other and pointing your way. You stood up to leave when you noticed a guy walking in your direction but thankfully Ulysses appeared a few seconds later smiling wide at you. “I knew that dress would look perfect on you.” He said taking your hand and kissing it with flair. In the corner of your eye you noticed the guy go back to his seat. Ulysses led you to a circular sofa where you recognized some of his business partners, there was one bubbly girl who seemed friendly so you sat down next to her. She gave you a big smile when she noticed you so you smiled back.

Ulysses leaned next to your ear “I still have some business to take care of. You chat for a while, don’t give away any of my secrets though.” Ulysses winked and he sat across from you and started chatting with the men.

The bouncer arrived with your drink. You took a sip, it was just the way you liked it.

“Is he your boyfriend?” the bubbly girl turned to you.

You chocked on your drink, “He’s my boss.” You quickly spat out but you realized that perhaps that wasn’t something you should have said when you noticed the girl’s face change. You weren’t sure how to read the look she gave you.

“Hmmmm… your boss is hot.” She said as she eyed you for a response.

“I guess…” you tried to say coolly.

The girl laughed for some reason “But you guys do it, right?”

You chocked on your drink a second time, you just shook your head no while you coughed.

“Come on, it’s between us girls! Like I said, he’s hot and there is no shame in having some fun.”

“What makes you think we do it?”

“Well… the way he can’t keep his eyes off you for one thing.” She said taking a sip of her own drink.

You glanced at Ulysses, even though he seemed to be explaining something to the other men, he had his eyes glued to you. You looked away quickly, the girl in front of you smiled and nodded her head cheerfully.

“By the way, I’m Cate.” She said extending her hand.

“Y/N” you said as you shook it.

100 Ways by Austin Hull started playing.

The two of you chatted for a while but you got excited whenever you felt Ulysses’ gaze on you.

You couldn’t help imagining him grabbing you by the hand and leading you somewhere the two of you could be alone. Maybe even the bathroom, which was quite fancy despite it being in a club, large mirrors, leather loungers, a soft shaggy rug. He would lock the door so no one could get in, he’d give you that look and you’d start making out. He’d back you up against the sinks and lift you up onto the countertop, still kissing you, as he’d lift your skirt... You were lost in these thoughts but you quickly realized that you were staring at Ulysses for far too long, unconsciously giving him bedroom eyes, he stopped talking as he tilted his head and arched his brow at you with interest. You quickly looked away as you felt a heat flow through you.  

As the night went on you started to relax and feel a little playful as you sipped on your second drink. You laughed loudly at something Cate said drawing Ulysses’ attention to yourself as you teasingly flipped your hair letting your dress strap fall off your shoulder. You glanced to check what Ulysses was doing when you heard him stumble over his words as he adjusted himself in his seat when he saw your cleavage become more exposed.

You sat back, sipping on your drink letting your outrageously short dress hike up just enough to show off where your lace top stockings ended. Ulysses ran his thumb over his bottom lip.

“Let’s go dance!” Cate said standing up.

You stood up and followed her onto the dance floor.

The two of you danced for a while when suddenly you felt a warm hand on your shoulder. “May I?” Ulysses asked looking at you.

Cate gave you a thumbs up before she disappeared into the crowd.

Closer by Nine Inch Nails started playing.

Ulysses towered over you, as the two of you started to dance.

Your moves were slow and sensual, you felt his gaze travel all over your body, as you rocked back and forth in front of him. He started to move in the same pace as you, his moves were more strategic, his hands would occasionally caress different parts of your body, sending an electric feeling through you every time it happened, making you wonder if he did it deliberately or not.

You wanted to tease him so you turned your back to him as you swayed your hips and flipped your hair exposing your bare back to him.

You unexpectedly felt him press his entire body against your back as his hands snaked around your waist, and he buried his face in the side of your neck.

“I didn’t know you could dance like that.” He breathed.

“You’re not so bad yourself. You really know how to move.” You replied turning your head to look at him.

He chuckled, his face barely an inch from yours, “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. ” He said giving you a mischievous look.

You wondered if that look suggested that those moves translate to what he can do in bed. Damn, where were these thoughts coming from? You didn’t know how long you would be able to control yourself around this man.

Author’s note: Tell me if you guys liked the idea of music in fics, yay or nay?

#ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue x reader #ulysses klaw #andy serkis #ulysses x reader #ulysses klaue imagine #ulysses klaue x you #ulysses x you #marvel #black panther

[cinebration]

The Hyena (Ulysses Klaue x Reader) [Part 2]

Acceptance comes with conditions.

Part 1 | Part 2

Tagged: @illbegoinhome​

Warnings: language

Gif Source: schreiberpablo

The hours slogged by as you waited. A man like Klaue, you reasoned, would make a decision quickly, though not without considering all the variables.

Then again, a man like Klaue would make you wait til the last second simply to keep you on your toes. A power play, one you knew all too well. To make himself seem like he was in control, he would make you sweat.

You were fucking tired of sweating. As the hours trudged past with no call, no appearance of Klaue at your doorstep, your anxiety swelled until you were crawling in your own skin. The fan on your face, the cold water you splashed over yourself—nothing mitigated your sensory torment.

Still no Klaue.

Fuck.

As you threw your things back into the small carry-on you’d brought, you wondered if he knew how much you needed him. To be the one in control, you had to let him know he was expendable, that you were gifting him a favor. He couldn’t think he was the essential piece on which the whole plan hinged.

He knew. He had to know.

The irrationality of the thought hooked its claws into your gray matter, making you crawl in your own cerebral cortex.

How could he know how important this was to you? He couldn’t, end of story.

You viciously zipped up the carry-on and headed for the airport.

~~

The terminal was blissfully cool, air-conditioned for its flyers. You lounged in one of the chairs directly under a vent and let go of your hope. At least you weren’t suffering in the swelter anymore.

You boarded the plane forty minutes later, not bothering to glance at the time. You felt numb. Yet another thwarted plan that would have fed your ambition.

I should just leave the Agency, you thought bitterly, already composing your report to Ross in your head.

The mission was a failure, sir. Klaue thought I was crazy, too.

“Well,” Ross would say, “at least he stopped you.”

You could hear the snickers and see the delighted sneers of your coworkers rejoicing in your failure.

Doomed to fail, always.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot’s voice crackled over the plane’s speakers, “welcome to Transnational Airlines. Thank you for riding with us today.”

You tuned him out, sinking deeper into the wallow pit you had dug for yourself.

Put all my eggs in one basket.

Peering out the window at the stretch of unforgiving wasteland, you thought with rueful triumph, Fuck you, heat. The one consolation prize of the whole wasted mission.

The plane jolted as it began to taxi away from the gate and down the runway. Heat waves radiated up from the cracked pavement.

So long, hellhole.

The plane jerked to a stop. The flight attendant from the back of the plane strode quickly down the center aisle, disappearing into the cockpit.

Warning bells tolled in your mind. Straightening, you peered out the window, trying to see what was happening on the ground.

The flight attendant emerged from the cockpit. With a frightened glance over her shoulder, she unlocked the plug door.

Tense voices shouted outside the plane, audible though unintelligible above the roar of the plane’s idling engines. A figure darkened the doorway, sending the flight attendant scurrying back in alarm.

Fucking hell.

Barreling forward, Klaue strode into the plane, filling the space bodily in the way only he seemed able to do. Blue-gray eyes sweeping over the terrified faces of the passengers, he fixed his attention suddenly on you. The feral grin stretched across his face.

“Leaving so soon?” he called as he slowly sauntered over.

Fucking. Hell.

Not only had he made you wait, but he was making a big fucking show of it. The balls on the man had you shaking with agitation and embarrassment.

“I told you twelve hours,” you managed to say.

He tapped the large watch on his wrist with his prosthetic hand. “Not twelve hours yet, sweetheart.”

He reached your row. Leaning against the back of the chair in front of you, the woman in the seat cowering away from him, he regarded you with deadly amusement, like a cat waiting to play with its prey.

“Well?” you asked, your irritation getting the better of you. “Don’t tell me you stopped the whole plane just to tell me no.”

“Don’t underestimate me.”

You felt the stares of the people in the seats around you, panicked eyes shifting between you and Klaue. They wanted it over. They wanted him off the plane and you with it, if they were lucky.

“Give me your answer.”

Scratching at his beard, Klaue replied, “I accept.”

You nearly jumped out of your seat with excitement. Struggling to keep your face neutral, you nodded, not trusting your voice.

“On one condition.”

You looked at him sharply. “What?”

“You stay here with me.”

FUCKING HELL.

“That’s not how this works,” you said. “You check in—”

“If I’m going to stick my neck out in front of Dietrich,” Klaue said, leaning in, breath ticking your face, “you have to be right there beside me on the chopping block if everything goes wrong, sweetheart.”

Your mind raced, heart tripping in your chest with anxiety. You needed him. There was no other way around it. Even if it meant sweltering in this godforsaken hole and enduring everything Klaue would throw at you, it would be worth it to take Dietrich down.

It had to be.

Gritting your teeth, you met his penetrating stare. “Deal.”

#Ulysses Klaue x Reader #Ulysses Klaue imagine #Ulysses Klaue #Andy Serkis #Age of Ultron #Black Panther #Klaw #Marvel #MCU

[imaginestoinfinity]

Hell to Pay (Finale)

Ross brought me back to the palace, where I was escorted to Shuri's lab. I sighed in relief seeing that she was okay- it didn't occur to me that I'd left a minor alone on a battlefield.

"There, it's not so bad" she said once she finished patching up my hand. It still hurt, but it was better than seeing a bloody mess. I smiled at her.

"Thank you" I said. She nodded her head in response, then took a breath.

"My brother wishes to speak with you" she said. My heart began to race in my chest. I kept a facade, nodding my head and letting out a chuckle.

"Can't imagine what about" I joked. I got up from the table and walked out with Shuri, heading towards the throne room. When we arrived, T'Challa was pacing about, still in his Panther suit.

"Brother" Shuri said. He looked towards us, stopping in his tracks, and nodded. I looked to Shuri, who ushered me in and left. I took a breath and walked toward him.

"You wanted to speak to me?" I asked.

"Yes, come" he replied. He walked toward the glass window behind the throne, which overlooked the waterfalls behind us. I approached, silence between us.

"Erik is dead" he said. I was glad, although a part of me felt somewhat unsure if this was a good thing.

"He deserved it... after all the people he killed" I replied. I felt him look at me from the side.

"You did what I could not. Thank you" he said. I turned toward him, slightly in shock. I nodded in return.

"I had to avenge Klaw" I said. This piqued his interest, and he raised an eyebrow.

"How did you and Klaw come to meet?" He asked. I turned and looked out the window, swallowing hard. The view was absolutely breathtaking.

"I came from an island much like Wakanda. Taínan. We were the descendants of the Taíno chief, Anacaona... I'm named after her" started. T'Challa leaned in, nodding.

"When I was thirteen, Klaw came to the island. I had never seen a steel boat before. I was the first to see him...". I felt strange in that moment, talking about Klaw from the outside. Something inside me felt different, yet familiar at the same time. I shook my head and cleared my throat before continuing.

"He took me to New York. Years later I started to work for him and we fell in love" I said. T'Challa seemed to stare through me, which made me feel almost vulnerable, as if he knew what was in my mind at that moment. He nodded simply.

"There is still more to your story, parts that you will come to admit when you are ready" he said. I looked back at him, partly in awe, partly in confusion.

"Where will you be going?" He asked. I was surprised at his question; I assumed I was still a prisoner.

"You're letting me leave?" I asked in disbelief.

"You protected my sister. You fought for my country. I have no reason to hold you against your will" he replied. I raised my eyebrows at him, nodding slowly. I thought back to my little hut in Jo'burg, the one Klaw had gotten us. It wouldn't be the same without him. The only other home I knew was New York, but I was certain no one I knew would still be there. Not to mention, Taínan...

"I don't have a home anymore" I said. I saw him shrug from the corner of my eye.

"You are more than welcome to stay in Wakanda, if you'd like" he replied. As shocked as I was to hear his words, the scenery around us was so beautiful, I couldn't react. The trees were so green and full of life, the waterfalls so blue and powerful. I was at peace here.

I was at home.

"I'd like that".

#hell to pay #ulysses klaw #ulysses klaw imagine #ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue imagine #ulysses klaw smut #black panther #black panther smut #black panther imagine #Klaw #Erik Stevens #erik kilmonger imagine #Erik Kilmonger #T'Challa #t'challa imagine #imaginestoinfinity

[siriuslycollins-blog]

Want You Back - Ulysses Klaue

“Ugh, I can’t keep doing this with you, it’s the same old thing every single time and I am fucking tired of it!” Selena Hawkins screeched at her fiancée Ulysses Klaue. Once again the 22-year-old caught her fiancée cheating on her, finding the evidence when a message popped up on his phone while he was in the shower. Selena didn’t mean to go through his stuff but she was curious; Ulysses was coming home later than usual, refusing dinner when she worked her ass off in the kitchen to fix his favorite meal, his hushed conversations over the phone late at night, and the kicker, a pregnancy test that definitely was NOT hers. “Baby, angel, princess, I promise I have no idea who that woman is,” Ulysses pleaded, lying right to her face, even with the pregnancy test in her hand. “Then why the hell was there a fucking pregnancy test in our trash can?! Don't fucking lie to me!”

But Ulysses ignored her and asked, “are you sure it’s not yours? We’ve going at it for weeks.” Selena wanted to smack the piss out of him but instead threw the stick at him and headed toward their shared bedroom and pulled out a suitcase from the closet. “What are doing? You’re not leaving are you? We’re engaged, did you forget?” Selena ignored Ulysses, stuffing clothes into her suitcase and zipped it up. She found an old school backpack and stuffed more clothes in it, her toothbrush, skincare products and put it in the doorway with the suitcase and finally took off the Tiffany Soleste engagement ring and sat it on the bedside table.

“Not anymore we’re not. Consider yourself single.” Selena was surprised herself as the words left her mouth; whenever she caught him cheating, she never thought she could go through with leaving Ulysses, she loved him too much for that. No woman in her family ever left their cheating partner, not her aunts, cousins, grandmother, even her mom, and she knew her mother would disapprove. Mrs. Hawkins would encourage Selena to work it out, give him time to grow. Selena did all of that, twice now, and still has yet to see any kind of growth or maturity with Ulysses and she didn’t know how much more she could take.

Selena considered Ulysses the love of her life, she wanted to marry him, have his kids, and he promised her all of that. She thought he was the one, that much she thought when Selena was barely nineteen; Ulysses said he would give her anything she could ever want or need if she held him down, and she accepted.  “Baby, you can’t mean that.” Selena booked a flight back to her hometown, New Orleans and reserved a room at a hotel in the French Quarter. “I’m serious Ulysses, I’m tired of doing this with you. You keep saying you’re gonna change and then go right back to cheating again.”

At this point Ulysses was on his knees in front of her as she tried to leave the room and he wrapped his arm around her legs. “Get off me! The fact that you have the fucking nerve to cheat and you wanna cry? Bullshit!” Selena kicked him off her and dragged her bags to the living room of the Paris penthouse they once shared; she didn’t care if it was late, she couldn’t spend one more second with him so she rolled her stuff to the elevator. “We’re done, Ulysses.”

The elevator door shut and Selena was out of his life forever

6 months later

“YAASSS BITCH, FUCK IT UP,” yelled one of Selena’s best friends Andrea. They were in a night club in Sicily Italy and Selena was getting her life to the YG song Big Bank with her other two friends Kennedy and Sasha; they were cutting up on the dancefloor as Drea filmed them for Snapchat and Instagram, hyping them up as they twirled their hips to the beat of the song. Six months ago, Selena broke up with Ulysses, and like she suspected her mother and every other female in her family went off on her, calling her heartless for not giving him a chance to prove himself. Her aunts and cousins considered her lucky to even have a man like Ulysses, he had money, lots of it and he wanted to spend it on all her. What more could she possibly want? 

But the thing is, Selena was a rich bitch before Ulysses and she’ll be one after him, she didn’t need him for money, she could buy as many Chanel bags and Louboutin heels she wanted and it still wouldn’t break the bank. The song ended and the DJ played a Post Malone song so she sat down where a waiter brought drinks to their booth. Kennedy and Sasha slid in on the other side. Selena sipped her lemonade sangria as she noticed a cute Italian guy wink at her and whisper to his friend. “So girl, six months free of Ulysses. How’s it feel?” Drea asked.

“It’s actually... nice. I didn’t think I would like it as much,” Selena admitted. When she told her friends that she left him, they were super supportive and ready to throw hands with Ulysses and the bitch he cheated with but she stopped them; Selena didn’t want anything more to do with him and she was pretty sure Ulysses’ men would shut that down quick. In the weeks after the breakup, she moved back into her dad’s Garden District home, holed up in her room and cried until she got sick, and that’s when Andrea, Kennedy and Sasha stepped in and  told her to pack because they were going on vacation and it worked wonders. They partied it all over the world, and after a two week break back home they went to Italy and Selena was back to her old self. They even documented their excursions to show to their family when they got back. 

This was their last trip before they went home for good, so Sasha suggested Italy after learning that Italian men loved black women, and the bitch was right. For the past two weeks, they were waited on hand and foot by gorgeous Sicilian men, given free bottes of wine, jet skiing at Cefalu beach. Selena was in heaven and on the second night in Sicily when she was still a little upset about Ulysses, a guy named Nikolai fucked the little sadness she had out of her and that was it. No more thoughts about Ulysses late night wondering what he could be up to. It was getting late, nearly three in the morning and the club closed at four.

“You deserve to be happy boo. Just be glad you didn’t marry him. That would’ve been a messy ass divorce,” Kennedy said. “Yeah, I know. I would’ve been divorced in my early 20s with a baby,” Selena laughed as she finished off her drink. She still wants to have kids one day, but that could wait; right now she was living her best life with her friends and she was enjoying it. They weren���t very drunk so they walked back down the street back to their hotel, laughing about high school memories. What Selena didn’t know is that she had a surprise waiting on her.

Ulysses Klaue was in a van along with three of his men waiting on Selena to come home from the club. He arrived in Sicily this morning and spent most of the afternoon trying to find her but failed, checking every hotel and villa in the area to see if she was guest, but no one under the name Hawkins came up. He was about to give up and go back home when he heard her laughter, and there she was, going down a side street. The building the four girls went into was on Cefalu beach, and waited a minute before he followed suit. There was a man at a computer behind the counter in the lobby and went up to him.

“How may I help you this evening sir?” the concierge man asked with a thick Italian accent. “Those girls that came in a minute ago. What room are they in?”  “Le belle donne? Sono molto belle,” the man said pointing to the bank of elevators a few feet away. “Yes, yes, they’re very pretty, but what room are they in?” Ulysses was getting impatient and he wanted an answer now.

“Unfortunately sir, I cannot give you that information as it is confidential, unless you are with law enforcement.” Ulysses knew what to do and he pulled out a few hundred Euros, the equivalent of almost four hundred dollars in American money. “Would this be enough?” The man behind the desk looked in both directions before answering and sliding the money towards him. “Room 15C,” he said and went back to typing.

Ulysses took off, eager to see his girl after all these months. When the elevator opened up to the fifteenth floor he took off until he found room c; it turns out that the room wasn’t under Selena’s name, it was under her friend Andrea’s. He pushed his ear against the door and Ulysses could hear the popping of a champagne or wine botte and giggling. It was now or never; the love of his life was on the other side of this door. He took a deep a breath before knocking.

“Who is it?” someone yelled from the other side. “It’s maintenance! Here to check the air conditioning!” There was some shuffling before they unlocked the door and a girl that wasn’t Selena opened the door. “Maintenance? At almost four in the morning?” He wasn't going to comment that they were drinking alcohol at almost four in the morning, he just wanted to look for Selena. 

He pretended to check the air conditioning unit for problems, wondering how long could keep up this charade. “Hey, you look pretty familiar. Have we met before?” Andrea, the girl who answered the door asked. They did meet before but only once, way back when Selena had bought him home for the holidays in the early days of their relationship. “I don’t think that’s possible. I live in South Africa.”

“What’s going out here?” Selena asked as she exited the bathroom. She was wearing a satin pink lingerie night gown that stopped at her thigh and her hair was pulled into a bun on her head. She was in the bathroom doing her skincare routine so her face was still damps with products. “Oh, just the maintenance checking on the air condition.” “Well, we didn’t ask for maintenance at almost four in the morning, so sir, you can come back later today.” 

His time was up and he closed back the unit and turned to face her. The man with the tattoos on the side of his head and she could feel the shock on her face. “Ulysses, what the hell are you doing here? How did you find me?” This had to be some kind of dream, Selena was sure. Maybe she was a little too drunk and this was a hallucination of repressed fantasies and memories; there was no way he could be here, right? 

“Angel, I miss you and you know I love you.” Did his dumbass really think he could just waltz on in after six months of hard work to get back to herself? She pretended to ignore him and turned to Andrea. “Anyways, I was thinking that before we leave, we should try going to Ida’s, some of their stuff is cute,” Selena said, typing on her phone.” Andrea was just looking at her friend like bitch you know damn well you see this nigga in our room. “Selena, you do know your ex fiancée is here right?” Andrea was sure that Selena lost her mind.

“Yeah, I know. I ain’t tell him to come here though.” Selena still hasn’t looked at Ulysses and in truth, she was scared, scared because if she looked him in the eye, that she would break down, ruining months and months of hard work to get back to herself. “Selena, please, I’m sorry. Believe me.” Andrea was beginning to feel uncomfortable so she excused herself, talking about going for a run on the beach. When she left, Selena let Ulysses have it, not giving a damn if she deserved her neighbors. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! What made you come all the way to Italy? Just leave me the fuck alone! I don’t give a damn if you miss me, I said what the fuck I said when I said I was done. Get the fuck out of here.” Ulysses was heartbroken, he was sure that she would break after the first month and come back to Paris, that after it was all over they would get married and have kids, just like he promised her. Then one month turned into two, and two turned into three and so on, and Selena still wasn’t back. She had changed her number, moved back to America and everything was quiet. Not even her mom’s side knew where she was, as she wasn’t particularly close to her mother.

“Baby, I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry for that, but I don’t want to be without you. I can’t be without you. I want you to come back.” Ulysses really loved this woman, more than anything else, more than he wanted revenge against the Black Panther. “I can’t do that. How do I know you’re lying? And what about the kid?” He knew that this question would pop up and he was excited to reveal that it wasn’t his. “Kid’s not mine and I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

Selena loved Ulysses, even after six months, but how could she trust him? She didn’t want to do this, not now, not when she was just starting to get used to not having him in her life. “Ulysses...” “Look, I still have your ring,” Ulysses said fishing his pockets for the Tiffany engagement ring. He held it out to her and got down on bended knee. 

A second proposal. “Ulysses, it’s not just the cheating, it’s the missions. You’re gone for months at a time and when you leave I don’t know if it’s going to be the last time I see you, and you’re already a wanted man by S.H.I.E.L.D.” This was another reason why Selena left, she was always worried about Ulysses whenever his missions took him out of whatever country they were living in, not coming back for months on end with short phone calls at night. His line of work was too dangerous and she couldn’t stand the thought of getting a phone call from one of his men saying that he was captured by the government or worse, dead. She wouldn’t go through it, and it gave her heart palpitations every time he walked out the door.

“With the money from Ultron, you shouldn’t have to do this at all. I need you home.” He promised he’d do whatever it takes to get her back, and he would not break that promise. “For you? Anything, please just come home.” He sounded so sincere, and she couldn’t find any hint of a lie when she looked in his eyes; she didn’t want to throw away three years of dedication and she didn’t want to start over with someone else. He was still down on his knee with the ring still in his hand, looking up at her. 

“If you ever do this shit again, I will leave you.” Ulysses slipped the ring on her finger before picking her up and spinning her around. “I promise, you have me.”  

#Ulysses klaue imagine #black panther fanfiction

[underatedcharactersunite]

Ulysses Klaue being possessive Would Include?

Requested by @cinnamon-and-mey

•Ulysses’s possessive nature is apart of who he is and whilst he doesn’t see you as a possession, he unquestionably wants the world to know that you are his and no-one in their right mind will ever attempt to take you away from him. 

•Whenever the two of you are in public together Ulysses has to have a hold of you in some degree whether it is taking your hand in his (although he doesn’t like to hold your ha it deems it a childish way to express emotions) His arm around your waist his fingertips digging into your flesh, or whenever possible Ulysses will have you sitting on his lap, this way there is no mistaking that you are his especially when your sprawled across his lap. 

•Ulysses possessiveness comes from a place of need. When Ulysses first stated out he never desired to have a significant other to enjoy the rewards of his work and determination. Once you entered his life he realised that perhaps he could share his rewards and enjoy this new life that he has worked for. However, becoming such a vital part of Ulysses life has not been an easy road, there have been many times where you have had to prove yourself to him because he does not trust easily. 

•Ulysses has no problem setting an example in front of the rest of his men when one decides to perform an action which Ulysses believes to be unexpectable. For example in the past new men to Ulysses’s workforce have cat called, stared, made suggestive comments about you in passing which Ulysses has not taken kindly too. In order to remind his men that you are his and he is yours, Ulysses will begin to take action in order to remind the men why you are currently among them. For example; 

•When the pair of you walk past a worker who has previously made or performed actions that Ulysses has deemed unacceptable, Ulysses will begin to prove to the worker in question that you belong to him. For example whilst walking past, Ulysses will slowly glide his hand down to your backside before giving it a firm slap, your reaction of shock will bring Ulysses much delight. He is always fascinated by the reaction that you give him. 

•When anyone of Ulysses workers begins to frustrate him due to the continuity of their actions. Many would shot the object of their frustrations, Ulysses does not, workers are valuable to him, this is how he gets paid and is able to sustain the life that he is attempting to build for the pair of you. So Ulysses gets everyone around before making one final speech that you are his and no-one should act on any feelings that they may have towards you. After listing the list of behaviours that Ulysses does not like, he finishes the speech by grabbing hold of you and kissing you passionately. Whilst, Ulysses considers himself a bit of an exhibitionist he would never express full intimacy in-font of his men your body is for his eyes only.   

#Ulysses Klaue imagine #Uylsses Klaue imagines #Ulysses Klaue oneshot #Ulysses Klaue one shot #marvel imagine #Marvel imagines #Marvel oneshot #Marvel one shot

[geminiimagines]

Imagine...

Being a witch and Ulysses taking notice of you 

#imagine black panther #black panther imagine #ulysses klaue imagine #imagine ulysses klaue #uylsses klaue x reader #imagine avengers #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #imagine marvel #ulysses klaue

[tarrenterror25]

Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Title: I Always Find My Way Back To You Chapter: 1 of 9 Rating: Explicit 18+ Word Count: 4.8K

Summary: You can always count on Ulysses to return to you, but lately you find yourself wanting more. The new dangers in the world don't make the life of an arms dealer any easier and any day could be his last. Running away and living off the grid with the man you love is the dream. Does he share your feelings and can he be convinced to live a life with you?

Tags: MxF, heavily implied sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, sending lewds, PiV, rough sex, hair-pulling, daddy-kink, praise, spanking, quickie, blowjob

Playlist here (May contain explicit material)

Notes: Ahh, it’s here. I once again have to keep from over editing so this is where I stop myself. I apologize if this isn’t your cup of tea, I tried to write it for anyone to enjoy, but it is also still my work so there’s that. Sorry if it’s like overtly lovey dovey, I’m a sucker for romance. I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter!

Chapter One: As We Are

Ulysses Klaue sat at his desk with a heavy sigh. In front of him, numbers flick across computer monitors and downstairs beyond the glass of the office, the crew of the Churchill can be heard bustling about.

Klaue’s cell rings. With an annoyed groan he digs it out of his pocket and answers it. It’s just a standard business call. When he’s done, he tosses it down onto the desk. He takes a candy from the pewter dish nearby and pops the sweet into his mouth when he hears the phone ring again.

He furrows his brow. The source of the ring is not the satellite phone nor the one he just tossed down.

Klaue pats himself down and searches his pockets.

He retrieves another cell.

It’s a bit nicer than the other, but still a brick because he’s clumsy and glass screens wouldn’t survive the conditions of the Churchill very well.

The notification screen shows new messages: image attachments.

A grin spreads across his face when he eyes the number of the sender.

Klaue leans back in his chair and props his feet up on his desk. He opens up the messages and lets out a long whistle.

Some very sultry images materialize; a woman with a fluffy robe draped across her figure only allowing a peek at some lingerie and leaving the rest to the imagination. There’s other images as well; a couple of flirtatious selfies and a couple of her in different outfits. He licks his lips looking at them, thinking about what could be waiting on the other end of the phone. He’s so focused on the pictures he doesn’t notice anyone else enter his office.

“Boss.”

Klaue quickly backs out of the message thread and his phone jumps out of his hand at being startled as he sits up. It fumbles in his hands for a bit before he manages to catch the damn thing. “What?” Klaue snaps looking to his right hand man who just rudely interrupted him.

“Sorry,” his mercenary replies. “But the plane is ready.”

Klaue grins as he stands. “What are we still doing here, then? Let’s go.”

You roll over in bed and pull the blanket close around you. Your fingers fidget with the edge of the covers. There’s a stuffed bear beside you that you pull close to your chest. You switch to running your fingers through its fluffy exterior before you cave and check your phone for what feels like the millionth time since you sent the photos almost two days ago.

Nothing.

It wasn’t like Klaue to ignore you. Maybe he was just really busy or maybe something happened. Something bad? Maybe..

“Nope,” you say as you sit up. “Can’t think like that. He’ll answer soon.”

He’ll answer soon.

You had been telling yourself that more times than you could count, but with no word from him, every day made you feel further away from him than the last.

You throw on some cozy pajamas and navigate your way through your luxury city view apartment to the kitchen. Armed with a spoon and a bowl, you serve yourself some cereal. You go over to your cereal dispenser and watch the sugary fruit shapes spill out into your bowl.

You and Ulysses Klaue had an arrangement like all the other men before him, but one by one you found yourself turning away all the other the more time you spent with Ulysses.

What started as just great sex and being showered with gifts, turned into you developing feelings that you were trying to keep from surfacing.

The money was great, the clothes were designer, the jewels were dazzling, but there was one day that he left you with your gifts and you realized that the thing you truly wanted had already walked out the door.

Ulysses Klaue wasn’t just another one of your flings. The two of you made memories together, memories you now cherished. He made you realize that a life with someone could exist...and you wanted yours to exist with him.

“Shit,” you say as you see the cereal overflowing from the bowl. You shut the dispenser and clean up the pieces with a sigh.

After you add milk to the bowl, you seat yourself on your plush white couch and turn on the TV. You try to steer your mind from Ulysses or “Uri” as you had taken to calling him.

“Uri?” Klaue asked from where he rested his head in your lap. “Uly would make more sense wouldn’t it? Wait, never mind, I don’t like the sound of it.”

“Uri is close enough,” you said as you stroke his face. “It means “My light or my flame”.”

“Really?” he said. “I’ll take that one then.”

He puts his hand behind your head and pulls you close to kiss you.

You check your phone again and still nothing. An ache settles into the pit of your stomach as intrusive thoughts invade your mind. You know what he does and it scares you. An arms dealer and during these times? The world had seen the likes of all sorts of beings from space and beyond. Who was to know what was to come?

The television is on a news channel discussing the unimaginable things Earth has seen since the inception of the Avengers. You change the channel.

Admitting the feelings to yourself made everything worse. You knew you loved him and knew that any day could be the last you hear from him and that scared you, terrified you. All you want is to run away with Ulysses, to start over, to just have each other.

A talk show plays discussing the whole aliens from the sky. You change the channel again.

“Tonight it’s “Gods Among Us”. Where do they-”. Click.

“Captain America’s time in ice. Exclusive look into what really happened-” Click.

”Superhumans, are there any more out there, Tom?” “We saw this Winter Soldier come out of the woodwork, who’s to say-” Click.

“The US government is still looking into the acquisition of Stark Industries. Many officials still believe he is the root of nearly 80% of Earth’s recent disasters.” “Of course he is! Look at his track record: this Whiplash character, the Mandarin terrorist, and his crew of freaks who brought aliens. It all leads back to him!” “But some of these threats were existing regardless of Stark’s involvement. I can sleep better knowing we have someone like Dr. Banner-” Click click.

A woman speak over a video of the Earth from space, rotating in the black of space. “Who know what else there is...we used to think we knew where we fit into the grand scheme, but now...it’s anyone’s game.”

CLICK.

Your phone pings and you quickly set down your bowl on the coffee table and open the message. It’s from Klaue.

Your heart swells as you read it and you find yourself smiling. He’s texted you the details of when he’ll arrive in your city. Then your phone rings. A selfie of the two of you pops up on your screen along with “Uri” as the contact name. You answer.

“Uri?” you say trying to mask your excitement.

“Missing me, sweetheart?” he says with a chuckle.

“Always” you reply, your face blushing.

"Me too,” he says.

There’s the faint sound of people bustling about in the background and you hear Klaue giving orders to someone.

“Sweetheart?” he says.

“I’m still here,” you reply.

“Should make it to you before sundown tomorrow,” he says. “Think you can wait that long?”

You bite your lip. “I’ll do my best.”

“See you soon.”

He hangs up.

You squeal and leap off the couch. You do a little victory dance before realizing that you have so much to do before he arrives.

Being paid for your time and company, you never really went out of your way to do much for your suitors, but Ulysses was different. You surprised him with clothes picked out just for him, lit candles with his favorite scents, cooked his favorite meals even if it took you a few tries to learn. You had started to find yourself wanting to make him happy, wanting to please him. You ended up forgetting about looking forward to whatever lavish gifts he was bringing and instead began to focus on just making him happy.

You get as much prepped as you are able before you decide it’s time to hit the hay. You can’t let the manic cleaning and preparing get to you, you need to rest.

You don’t sleep right away; you scroll through the pictures you’ve taken of you and Klaue; some very playful and silly selfies, a picture of Klaue after you shoved an ice cream in his face leaving a bit on his nose, and one he took of you with ice cream covering your entire face and him smiling.

When you do fall asleep, you phone slips from your hand.

You wake up feeling very groggy. You’re not sure what time you ended up falling asleep, but you know it must have been quite late.

Why didn’t your alarm wake you?

You now make out the faint melody of your phone ringing from...somewhere.

The clock on your nightstand tells you that you’ve slept in. A lot.

“Oh shit,” you say as you try to untangle the blankets from your person.

You hear your phone ring again and try to rise from bed only to have a sheet that was still tangled around your foot trip you up. You fall a little less than gracefully to the floor, but do manage to find your phone under the bed.

Missed calls and new messages from Ulysses.

You open the messages: Landed. ETA: 1800.

You curse as you count in your head what that means in standard time.

“6:00pm.”

You look at the clock on your nightstand. 11am.

You waste no time in getting started on sprucing up your apartment. The butterflies in your stomach and pounding of your heart fuel you as you fluff up the couch pillows, light candles, and plan dinner.

2:00pm rolls around and you’re stumped between a natural makeup or a full face. You settle for something in between and carefully style your hair, ensuring each lock is in a place to your liking.

Now what to wear...

You could for something casual, an oversized sweater? Should you wear jeans? You opt for a simple snug knee length dress and some chunky Mary Jane heels; it’s comfortable, but still flirty.

You cook dinner and set it in the oven to keep it warm. You go ahead and set out some vintage wine and glasses on the coffee table and sit on the couch.

5:45pm.

You check your phone, but there’s nothing new except a few text messages from some friends.

Your nerves get to you and you go ahead and pop open the wine and pour yourself a glass. You sit back down, but get back up and start practicing how you’ll open the door.

Hand on your hip? No, too much attitude.

Should you be taking a call? Play it casual and aloof? No,no, no. Don’t want to look too busy.

One glass turns to two and then to three.

You’re in the middle of practicing your answering-the-door bit in a silk scarf draped over your elbows with your wine glass in hand when the doorbell rings.

You set down your glass and toss aside the scarf and race to the door and look through the peephole.

Ulysses Klaue stands outside your door, cleaned up in a suit minus the jacket, holding a bouquet of roses. You watch him for a moment as he glances down the hall and checks his watch. He tugs at the tie he’s wearing, his face saying it’s uncomfortable. He usually doesn’t dress up like this, but you remember hearing him say he liked doing it for you. He looks up towards the peephole and you let out a startled squeak as you step back. You compose yourself and fluff up your hair a bit. You take a calming breath and open the door.

He flashes a grin, light glinting off his gold tooth. “There you are,” he says. “Thought I had the wrong door for a minute.” He leans down to kiss you.

It takes a good amount of will power for you to not throw yourself at him, but you’ve missed so much that you can’t help it. You deepen the kiss, your mouth offering no resistance as his tongue ravishes you. His free hand grabs hold of your ass firmly, making you squeak in surprise.

He pulls away from you with a chuckle and shuts the door as you take the flowers from him. You head to the kitchen to prep them to be put into a vase. Klaue follows behind you, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow. You stand at the counter cutting off the stems to the roses at an angle and placing them into a vase. “They’re beautiful,” you say. “Thank you.”

He presses against you from behind and pulls down on of the sleeves of your dress. “Not nearly as beautiful as you.” He kisses your shoulder, his lips searing into your skin like a brand.

“Sorry I’ve been away,” he says and places another kiss in the crook of your neck.

Your hands feel sweaty against the cool countertop as you brace yourself. You haven’t heard from him in so long and now with his voice in your ear, it has you weak. You spent many nights waiting for something from him to let you know he was okay, that he was alive, and even more nights being at the mercy of your body aching for his touch.

You can’t stop yourself from pushing your ass back against him. You feel his cock is already half hard for you and bite your lip to stifle a moan. He sighs in your ear and grabs your hips and thrusts against you, pinning you to the counter.

“Uri,” you whisper throwing your head back onto his shoulder. “Please. I missed you.”

You feel his hands run up your thighs until they hike up your dress to run across your ass. “That so?” he says groping your flesh.

“Yes,” you say turning to face him. “I did.”

You can’t wait any longer, you know you’re already soaked for him. You need him inside of you, not a toy, not your fingers, not anyone else, just him. You need him like the wanderer needs the oasis in the desert; begging for reprieve from the heat of the sun, dropping to their knees in the cool shade, and reverently holding the waters in their hands to drink.

Your hands begin to untuck his neatly pressed shirt and you undo his belt. Klaue turns you back around and bends you over the counter. You brace yourself on the marble top and feel his hands work at ripping apart your panties. Lucky for you, Klaue was just as impatient as you were.

You hear his zipper come undone and feel his thick length press against your ass. “U-Uri,” you moan pushing back against him with need.

His hand dips between your legs to tease your entrance. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet already,” he says entering two fingers inside of you.

He gives a few pumps, curling his digits inside you, then pulls them out leaving you empty, to line his now fully erect cock up with your cunt. He slowly pushes himself inside you until he’s fully sheathed in your warmth.

You let out a loud moan at the feeling of being stretched open by him. He holds still, allowing you to adjust to his size.

“You feel so fucking good on my cock, sweetheart,” Klaue says hissing through his teeth.

His hand tangles in your hair and grabs a handful to pull your head up so that your back arches. Your cunt begs for friction and you begin to move against him. “That’s it, baby,” he says as he begins thrusting into you.

You feel your eyes nearly roll back into your head with how hard he fucks you. Your essence allowing him to glide deeper into you with ease, bottoming out with each thrust. “Yes, Uri!” you cry out. “Just like that!”

Your moans are just as loud as the snap of his hips against your ass. His hand in your hair twists to pull it a bit tighter, not enough to hurt, but just enough to ache. His other hand comes down to smack your ass, the rings on his hand making the flesh sting from the impact. You hear Klaue release a soft curse as he caresses where he spanked you. He smacks you again in the same spot and you cry out. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he says. “Look so fucking good taking all of me, such a good girl.”

His hand releases your hair and wraps around your front to tease around your clit. You are at the precipice of your climax, lost in the ecstasy of him filling you completely once the two of your find a rhythm; your legs tremble as your walls begin to twitch around his cock. “I’m so close, Uri,” you say pushing back against him.

“Me too. But ladies first,” he purrs right in your ear.

His fingers find your clit directly and the sensation is almost too much, so much so that you start to shake, but Klaue grips your shoulder with his other hand to keep you in place while he fucks you and touches you. “You can take it, baby,” he purrs. “Come for me.”

Jolts of pleasure rock through your body and you’re pushed over the edge. Your walls clench tightly around him and your hear him moan in pleasure as he helps you ride through your orgasm. You feel your essence running down your leg and hear the wet slaps of Klaue still fucking you. “That’s my girl,” he says. “Now it’s my turn.”

He places his hand on your neck and guides you to straighten up as he fucks you. His hand trails up further to cradle your jaw and he turns your face toward him. “Let me hear you,” he says. “Where do you want me?”

“Please, Daddy. Please come inside me,” you plead.

Klaue grins as he lets your face go and picks up the pace. Your hips are sure to be sore from how hard he’s pushing you against the counter. He gives one last thrust with a shout and you feel him spill into you. Without removing his cock, Klaue leans over and kisses your shoulder before resting his forehead on you. “Good girl,” he says out of breath.

He pulls out and you can feel your slick mixed with his spend dripping out of you. He steps back and watches it for a moment. “So fucking beautiful,” he says using his fingers to stuff it back inside you. “Hold onto that for me, sweetheart.”

The two of you clean up and you run a bath for the both of you. Klaue leans back against the edge of the tub while you straddle him. You trace your fingers over his tattoos. “You were gone awhile this time,” you say softly following the tendrils on his chest with your index finger.

He sighs tiredly as if the reminder of business was exhausting on its own. “Lot of traveling,” he said. “Had to stay awhile in Singapore before going back to the coast.”

“Singapore,” you say. “One of these days you should take me traveling.”

He grins and kisses you. “Oh yeah?” he says. “Where do you want to go?”

“Hmm...Monaco.”

“I’ve been there a few times,” he says. “Like the beach there.”

“I’d like to see the beach there,” you say playfully while running your hands along his chest.

“How about I take you out on a yacht instead?” he says.

There’s a playfulness in his eyes, a bright lust for life that swallows you whole and holds you there.

“I’d like that,” you say softly before kissing him.

After the bath, Klaue relaxes in the living room while you prepare dinner. He’s turned on the flat screen to a soccer game. You hear him shout and cheer at the players on the screen.

No one else who has ever been in sort of relationship with you has ever received this treatment in your home. It was cut and dry; you fuck them, they pay you, and then they leave.

But for Klaue, you liked having him around, liked actually spending time with him.

Did he feel the same about you? Of this you weren’t sure.

The two of you sit at the table eating the food you’ve made: Japanese style curry and rice. You learned that Klaue’s palate was just as adventurous as he was. There was hardly a food he shied away from. You admired his courage and eclectic tastes. He takes your hand, kisses it, and thanks you for the meal. You smile watching him eat with gusto. “Getting too tired of eating shit while I’m gone,” he says taking another large bite.

“Good thing you have me to take care of you,” you say.

“I count myself very lucky then,” he says with a smile.

After dinner, the two of you lay on a huge oversized pillow you have set up by a window that overlooks the city. It’s night so the lights from the buildings cast a soft glow into the room. There’s a couple of end tables with candles that also offer light and some drinks and snacks you’ve set out. You rest on Klaue’s chest, fingers dancing in the soft curls on his chest while he tells you stories about his adventures since you last saw him. It’s only the good things, nothing gruesome because you learned he doesn’t want to frighten you. Little does he know you crave to know everything about him, the good, the bad, and even the things he himself doesn’t know.

You listen to him, your attention fixated how every word rolls off beautifully with his accent.

“Pangolins?” you ask.

“Little armored creatures that roll into a ball and walk on two legs with their front paws together,” he explains. “Funny little things.”

“And you said they’re endangered?” you ask.

“Parts of the world use their scales for medicine,” he says. “Still some in the wild though.”

“That’s sad,” you say sitting up and reaching for some grapes you’ve set aside. “Oh, that reminds me!” you exclaim as you feed him a few grapes. “I saw that documentary you recommended.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah!” you say popping a grape into your mouth. “Those things are weird! With their eyes and how they change colors!”

He lets out a belly laugh and you laugh, too. He pulls you to him and kisses you deeply. “I’m gonna miss you while I’m out tomorrow,” he says.

You sit up a bit looking confused, but trying not to let it show. “You’re leaving already?” you ask.

He props himself up and reaches for his drink on the table and takes a swig. “Just for a bit,” he explains. “Got something I need to take care of while I’m here. I’ll come right back though and take you out. How’s that sound?”

“I’d like that,” you say kissing him.

His hand cradles the back of your head, holding you steady as he deepens the kiss. He tastes like the spices, the grapes you fed him, and the liquor he’s been drinking. It’s a mix you want ingrained into your memory, a taste you’ll never tire of.

He pulls away from you and your eyes meet. He looks at you like he knows there’s something on your mind.

You really don’t know if he’d stay, if he could belong to you. His business aside, Ulysses Klaue is wordly man; money, jewels, fast cars, planes, the rarest of finds, adventure, he wants everything, wants to be everywhere, and more. It’s what you love most about him. He’d steal the stars if he could.

You break away from his gaze and kiss his cheek as you palm him through the fabric of his pants. He smirks and guides your hand past the hem. He lets out a soft sigh when you touch him. You work your hand on his cock for a bit, stroking it and gliding your thumb around the tip until it’s weeping. You slide further down the pillow and pull down his pants and boxers so that his length is fully exposed to you.

You adjust yourself on your knees and take him into your mouth. You relish the sound of his moan and look up to see him relaxed against the pillow. His hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and gently grasps your hair to guide your head up and down on his length. “I love how you look with my cock in your mouth, sweetheart,” he says looking down at you.

This drives you to take him deeper into your mouth making him inhale sharply. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers, his hips twitching to thrust into your mouth.

You slowly work your way further down his length until you have all of him in your mouth. Tears prick at your eyes as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You use one of your free hands to fondle the rest of his bulge and his grip on your hair tightens. You pick up the pace, bracing yourself on his thigh with your other free hand. You don't shy from making a sloppy mess on his length.

You feel his cock twitch telling you he’s close and proceed to hollow out your cheeks as you suck. He grunts as he comes into your mouth, his thick ropes coating your throat. You swallow his spend with him still in your mouth before sitting back on your knees to catch your breath.

Klaue adjusts himself back into his pants and sits up. He leans forward, places his hand under your chin, and tilts your head up to look him in the eyes.

You know you must be a sight; smeared make-up, glossy eyes with tear trails down your cheeks, lips swollen, drool and his spend at the corner of your mouth, and breathing hard, but he kisses your forehead. It comforts you that he likes you this way. Any other man would walk away, leave you to clean up, but Ulysses looks at you, really looks at you, and suddenly you’re ice cream on a hot summer day, melting under his gaze.

You can’t quit him, can’t get him out of your head. Your heart, your mind, and your body will always come back to him, like tides lusting for the moon.

He cradles your face in his hands and his thumbs wipe the corner of your eyes. “Sorry ‘bout the makeup, sweetheart,” he says with a chuckle.

Your hand finds his on your cheek. “This is the only acceptable way that you’re allowed to ruin my makeup,” you say smiling at him.

You enter your bedroom and see Klaue sitting on the edge of the bed removing his jewelry and setting it on the nightstand. You clamber behind him and begin massaging his shoulders. He lets out a content sigh as he relaxes. You eye the brand on his neck and your fingers ghost over it. You don’t know where it came from, but you know it’s not something he chose to have.

“Ulysses,” you say.

“Hm?”

“Do you ever...think there’s an end to what you do?” you ask tentatively.

“An end?” He chuckles. “Sweetheart, the day I stop is the day I’m dead. I’m good at what I do.”

“Well, I guess like, retirement, then,” you say moving back from him to lay down.

He shrugs and lays next to you. “Possibly. Probably spend my days out on an island somewhere,” he says. “Why?”

Because I want to go with you. Because I love you.

“Just curious,” you say snuggling close to him.

He sleeps without a shirt and you welcome the skin on skin contact. His arm cradles you to him as you lay on his chest.

He falls asleep first and you sit up a bit to admire him. The curls on his head rest to the side of his face and show off his jaw framed by his beard.

Your hand brushes across his biceps and then over to his chest. Scars pepper his skin and there’s a few new cuts and bruises that you now notice.

You run your fingers over the bumps, there’s ones that look like they’ve opened and had to heal multiple times over. You kiss his scars and fall asleep beside him.

When you wake up, you’re alone, your arm resting over a pillow where Klaue should be and that feeling comes back again, the feeling of being in love and being helpless to it.

You look out the window, the morning sun casting an orange glow on the city and daydream about a life when you can wake up next to Ulysses Klaue and not see an empty space.

#ulysses klaue #ulysses klaue x reader #klaue #klaue x reader #iafmwbty

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝and now she’s all over me it’s like i paid for it❞

(not my gif)

summary: get in there, get what you want, get out.

warnings: smut, oral sex m receiving, klaue straight up murders someone (that means descriptions of blood) fingering, unprotected sex, prostitutes, there’s probably more warnings so let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.3k

a/n: in my defense, i rewatched black panther and i was left unsupervised. this is kind of short, bye

//////

The LED lights lining the walls of the lobby were seedy, flickering, flashing a pathetically inconsistent purple that only further confirmed this place was a shithole. Something about it made you think it wasn’t to be trusted. A bad attempt at friendliness.

Get in there, get what you want, get out. Try not to speak to anyone if you can, your Korean’s horrible. Those were the exact instructions you’d given yourself.

As it turns out, it didn’t take long to find Klaue: he was in the darkened room beyond the bar, some hooker you didn’t recognize on his lap, the only thing unusual about it. You didn’t let the jealousy flood you— no time to waste on those petty emotions.

Being careful not to take your eyes off them, you leaned as seductively as you could against the doorframe. “Hey.”

You knew Klaue could only see your silhouette, but you hoped your voice was giveaway enough.

However, confusion flooded his features— apparently not.

“Who’s there?” he called, pushing the girl off his lap, and you took your first, confident steps towards the lamplight.

“Me, duh. I thought we had a deal, why you bringing some other whore into this?”

“Uh, I’m right here,” the girl cut in rudely, and even though she looked Korean, her accent was all American.

There was an awkward beat, then Klaue gave her a little push towards the door. “Go off, now. Don’t tell anyone you’ve seen me.”

She gave him a look, but started off the couch obediently: she didn’t get five steps before Klaue unholstered a pistol and opened fire on her back.

The girl collapsed in the space between you: her blood looked syrupy on the carpet.

“Right in front of me? Seriously?” you said, sidestepping the growing pool so the bottoms of your Louboutins wouldn’t get redder than they already were, “Who’s gonna clean it up?”

Klaue shrugged half-heartedly, and the pistol was still smoking, so he put it on the seat next to him instead of back in the holster. “They have janitors.”

There was silence as you sat down next to him.

“How long you staying in Korea?” you mumbled.

“Until my partner makes a move,” he said, his eyes fixed on the dead girl. She was definitely dead, and had died almost instantly, but dead bodies twitched. It was unnerving.

“How long you planning on staying in this room?” you pressed, turning your gaze back to him.

Klaue looked at you this time, his expression impossible to read.

“Until there’s a silver lining.”

He bent down to kiss you then, and normally you weren’t the type to rush, but you slipped your tongue in his mouth immediately, your hand tightening on his leg. He responded by gripping you by the nape of your neck, sending hot spirals everywhere he was touching you.

When he was done feeling out your neck, he reached for your leg, yanked it over his lap pretty goddamn quickly, and if you had any breath left, you would’ve giggled. You didn’t spend much time teasing him through his slacks like you normally would’ve: you simply lowered yourself down between his spread legs and teased him with your hands.

“What do you want?” you asked him, looking up at him, pupils blown wide but hardly noticeable in the lighting. He was hard, of course he was, maybe not fully yet, but certainly swollen, you could feel it.

Klaue wrapped his flesh hand in your hair, curling his fingers in tight. “I want fucking everything.”

You took that as cue to get a move on: you fumbled with his zipper and soon enough his cock was free.

You’d guessed right. He was already leaking and swollen, a drop of precum rolling down from the tip that practically begged you to lick it off.

His hips arched into your palm as you started stroking him, and you grinned as Klaue pulled you down, forcing you to taste him.

He was so big you could easily feel him in the back of your mouth, but you didn’t care, you bobbed your head and swirled your tongue until you extracted a low groan out of him. Your knees were digging into the carpet, your dress was probably riding up, and the girl was dead, for fuck’s sake, but none of it mattered.

You gagged and Klaue took over, fucking into your mouth with the flesh hand still in your hair. You moaned against him, knowing your drool was rolling down his length, and your eyes fluttered shut as he thrust wantonly into your mouth.

It didn’t take much before he was spilling onto your tongue.

“Plenty of time to make a mess of that pretty face later,” Klaue mumbled, a sly grin in his voice, and your pussy clenched around nothing as the grip on the back of your hair loosened.

You rose, hooking your legs around him, and Klaue slipped both hands under your slip dress to grip your ass as he kissed you searing and open-mouthed. You couldn’t help but flinch at having his weaponized hand on you, especially as it dipped down beneath your underwear, but the apprehension lessened as an artificial finger disappeared into your pussy.

“Fuck,” you hissed: it was almost too much. He was sucking a bruising kiss on your neck, you could feel the pressure building.

You twisted your hips against him and Klaue gave a shapeless grunt.

“You gonna come for me, love?” he mumbled, crooking the finger, “It’s barely been ten fucking seconds…”

“Need you,” you muttered breathlessly, “Needed you ever since I stepped into this place.”

“Ay, I can tell, comin’ in here lookin’ like that.”

His voice dipped disastrously low and you gasped as he tugged down the front of your dress: the rush of cool air around your breasts pushed you to the precipice, and you arched on his fingers.

“Calm down, love.”

You groaned as he twisted one of your nipples with his flesh hand, only to soothe the sting of pain with a wet kiss around the sensitive skin. Your eyes rolled back, you barely felt him withdrawing his artificial finger.

“So fucking needy,” he groaned, gripping your ass, actually pulling you up out of the way so he could tease his cock on your folds, “Bet you’d come if I let the head of it in, eh?”

You nodded frantically, and Klaue chuckled darkly. “That’s what I thought.”

So fucking generous tonight, he let you on his cock, and you moaned out loud as the knot in your stomach finally loosened. “Holy fuck.”

“Spread your legs, love,” he muttered thickly.

You did to the best of your ability, sinking down further on his cock, and Klaue rubbed your clit, moaning unabashedly like it was the most angelic thing he’d ever touched.

“Takin’ it so well…”

Klaue was completely buried inside of you when he started moving: you gasped pathetically as he pulled out half an inch only to sink even deeper than before, and your orgasm came like a wave, making everything in you clench and unclench at once.

You didn’t even register moving forward, but suddenly your lips were crashed against his as you twisted your hips against him, pushing even further.

It was rhythmic, you were moving together, he had a hand firm on your hip as he thrust into you, and you were doing your best to take all of him when he was filling you so deeply like this.

God, this feeling was enough to make you cross countries. You’d hijacked the jet just for this. It was hard to believe you’d actually been in Taiwan this afternoon.

“That’s it, love,” Klaue groaned. “I’m so fuckin’ close, making a mess of me now…”

He gave a few more lazy thrusts before completely slowing to a stop, and you gasped as you felt him fill you, the warmth practically covering every inch of you, he was so fucking deep.

“Thanks,” you bit out, panting, even though you knew you’d be getting back on him within minutes.

Klaue squeezed your wrist, possibly unable to move. “My pleasure.”

It took all the strength you had left, but you hoisted yourself off of him and tugged your dress down, only to collapse beside him as your legs were aching.

“Ow,” you mumbled pathetically.

“Stay,” Klaue mumbled, wrapping an arm around you.

#ulysses klaue #ulysses klaw #ulysses klaue smut #ulysses klaw smut #klaue smut #klaw smut #klaw x reader #klaw x reader smut #klaue x reader #klaue x reader smut #ulysses klaue x reader #ulysses klaue x reader smut #ulysses klaw x reader #ulysses klaw x reader smut #andy serkis #black panther #lord save me #black panther imagine #black panther fanfiction #black panther fanfic #klaue imagine #klaw imagine #age of ultron imagine #age of ultron one shot #marvel fanfiction

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Wet Sugar” [Part 5 of 30]

As always, Mature Content. NSFW. 

 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list. Thanks for reading and welcome new readers. You all keep me going!

If you enjoy it please, comment/reblog/ask a question/or like.

Thank you to @cherrystainedlipsbaby for translating my words into Arabic. I love the BP fandom, y’all jump in to help in a pinch!

Summary: Erik has words with Yani and later helps her in a predicament with the assistance of Tahir. Meanwhile, Klaue plots out the Angola job that makes Tahir uneasy...

"Buss a couple rounds inna me

Ah mi sniper dat

Sit dung pon di buddy like a Cadillac

He bawl out Ah mi rider dat YOW

Take off my heels

And let me unbuckle your jeans now

Meh arch ma back and bawl out

Yuh gimme heart attack Yow

My baby he know he a blessing

He know I could never forget him

I can't lie

You the best I ever had

Take me so high

Make me bawl out Ohhh

Yuh gee it to me rough then yuh take it slowww

Ah mi sniper dat…

Monéa – "Inna Di World"

Killmonger.

Yani watched him dance with Peach, an old high school friend who was always kind to Yani even when she was talking slick about her cousin Twyla behind her back. Peach had two children already and by the way she was winding her body on Erik, she probably wanted two or three more from him.

Killmonger…him smooth, yeah…real smooth as his hands circle around Peach's waist. A real dirty dancehall plays, straight nasty riddum, and Peach lets her ass do the talking for her. Erik stays with her, his left hand pressing the arch in her back and Yani is stunned to see him reach for Peach's braids and pull her head back. 

The woman is all smiles as she slows her hips down and just bounces on Killmonger's groin. And he likes it, thrusts back into Peach, and Yani turns her eyes away because she can feel her midsection quiver and her face get warm with irritation. Why does he have to dance like that in front of her? Zachary held her hips tight. She could feel his chubby erection snug against her rump. He wanted her tonight, but she was still skittish about sex with him.

Being with Chez made her lose trust with men, and no matter how nice Zachary was, how kind he was to her baby and her family, she kept him at arms-length when it came to full intercourse. She pulled away from him slightly when she felt him giving her tiny thrusts.

"Aye, Fam!" Cee Cee, their oldest female cousin squeezed onto the dance floor with Boogie, Donald, Sonya…the whole darn family crew that came to see Kendall. Junior spun an old Hip Hop joint that had her family on the floor doing something they did as children when music played, "The Swap" which was simply all of them dancing and then when Dex yelled out a cue, they would all switch partners on beat. It was fun and they hadn't done it in so long that she kept messing up when she forgot to listen for the cue which was Dex calling out "Galiber! Switch dem!"

Zachary couldn't keep up so he kissed her cheek and left for the bar, and Yani found herself becoming competitive with her relatives. She held her dress up a bit in one hand so no one would accidentally step on her hem. It got a bit rowdy when other people joined in the fun, essentially turning the family play into a line dance.

When Yani saw Peach twirling around her cousin Dulan, her eyes searched for Erik, but then Dex called out the next cue and Yani jumped to her left….

…right in front of Erik.

He had a big smile on his face when he saw her.

"Whatchu got, Ma?" he asked, and his dimples challenged her to impress him.

"Can you even hang, Killmonger?" she snapped playfully.

"Question is, can you hang? I can do this all day, girl."

The hottest Soca jam came on and the crowd turned stupid, Erik's eyes flicked around to see what everyone else was doing. The dancing became the domain of professionals now, and any tourists who thought they could keep up soon left the floor. It was Virgin Island show and prove time. And Killmonger had the nerve to still be there among them. But he was keeping up, and then some. His eyes never left hers and she felt her heart pound harder and faster. She was quite sure he could see it thumping in her chest. His hands slipped down to grip her hips.

Yani spun around and let her hips dip, the hem of her dress still clutched in her fingers, her legs shimmering with sweat. She could see Peach and another woman in a white dress with long locs swaying near them, waiting for Dex to give the signal so they could swoop in on Erik. Yani swept her eyes over to Dex, watching his lips, sweat flicking off of him, his shirt molding onto his body tight from all the perspiration pouring out of him.

"Galiber! Switch dem-!"

Yani saw the other women lunge forward, and she pushed back against Erik's groin, the weight of her backside throwing him off balance. He grabbed for her waist to counterbalance himself and the movement blocked him from switching to someone else.

Junior slowed down the beat of the music, chopping and screwing it up old-timey style until the song was like a heartbeat. Peach was hovering, her body rolling smooth like the tail of a winding Boa snake.

"I see you, Ma!" Erik called to her and Yani leaned forward, gently shaking her hips knowing her ass cheeks would bounce.

"Shit," Erik said laying the palm of his right hand on her lower back, his left hand rubbing her left hip.

Once she felt his touch, she shifted back up and bent her knees, her hips circling, hands clutching her dress tighter to outline her rump, moving just so-so until she had her cheeks jumping with nothing else on her moving. She just needed his eyes to stay on her—

"Ooh, Yani…" Twyla said.

He moved his hands.

Damn.

Erik's fingers gripped her shoulders, his waist glued to her ass and moving slow. She could feel his shaft poking through and she let the center of her cheeks grab at his dick. They were moving in tandem like they were fucking, the music setting the pace, the thin material of her dress letting him feel all of her softness…

Erik slid his hands down to her waist and twirled her around to face him.

"Nobody needs to be seeing all that, girl," he said while stroking her back, "especially your man."

Yani closed her eyes, shame filling her face.

Zachary.

This was supposed to be their night.

Erik's left hand held her waist again while his right hand eased up her side and cradled the nape of her neck.

"You were great up there. Your cousin, Kendall…he was really good too."

"He's choice, yeah?"

"Yeah."

He licked his lips and his eyes glanced around like he was looking for someone. His face moved closer to her until his lips were near her ear. She felt her breath exhale out of her mouth in short pants when she felt that scruff from his beard on her cheek again. Her neck arched back and she felt his warm rum-flavored breath tickle the shell of her ear. Her fingers slid up his arms and clasped just below the smoothness of his neck.

"Before you went off on Chez…you were singing to me, weren't you?"

A coy smile played on her lips and she tried to look away from his eyes, but he kept moving his head in front of her until she stared back at him.

"What if I was?"

"You got a man though."

"It was just a song, Killmonger. Mi play fuh dem, the crowd. Freestyle comes straight from here and out there," she said pointing to her forehead and then away from her face.

"Nah. That shit was for me. Only me."

"If you say so—"

"You were looking at me."

"I was looking at the audience—"

"You were looking straight to the back, where I was. You heard me shout to you. You ain't gotta lie. I felt that shit. You did too."

"Whatever."

"How come you wouldn't let me switch?"

"What?"

"I know you threw that ass on me to keep me from dancing with someone else. You real obvious, Ma. It's cute though."

She sucked her teeth.

"See, I know you know I'm right. Whenever you do that, I know I got under your skin. I been drinking a lil bit, but I'ma say this anyway. I like you. I don't know if I freaked you out or crossed the line when I touched you the other day, but when I didn't see you all day Friday, I thought I fucked up and scared you. But the way you sang that song…for me…I know…"

His words wandered off.

"You know what?" she asked, her fingers squeezing his neck gently.

His eyes were focused elsewhere.

"Yani?"

Zachary's voice was peach fuzz soft and Erik pushed away from her and she felt her legs automatically step forward towards him, trying to keep the heat from his overwhelming body next to hers.

"Respect," Erik said giving Zachary a sincere smile, "was just telling your girl what a great singer she is. Thanks for the dance, Yani."

She watched Erik leave the dance floor and her body felt cold and lonely without him. Zachary's hand went around her shoulder.

"You know him."

"He works for Mr. Klaue. Him and that other guy."

Yani couldn't even look Zachary in the eye, her gaze would reveal too much if she did look at him.

"Is he nice?"

"Yeah. They both are."

Yani walked away from the dance floor with Zachary. Her cousins Cee Cee and Monice drank Bushwackers and watched them approach, the whipped cream from their drinks leaving traces on their lips.

"You leavin' cuz?" Cee Cee asked.

"Are we?" Zachary said, a gleam in his eye.

Yani was going to spend the night at his place. He agreed to go at her pace, do whatever she wanted. Her eyes were still watching Erik as he sat at the bar with his friend. The woman in white already at his side stroking his back.

"Yeah, we're going," she said.

Her eyes went back to the dance floor where the rest of her relatives were still throwing down.

"Tell Kendall, I left, yeah?"

"Go on, he's high as a kite right now. Him tell you Bunny and Gregory want him to record a single?" Monice said.

"Yeah? That's great!" Yani said.

She hugged her cousins and clutched onto Zachary's arm.

Warm air greeted them outside, much cooler than the hotbox inside.

"Going to my place still?" Zachary asked.

"Yeah. But I have to be back home by ten in the morning. Auntie is going to church and Anika won't be able to stay after ten."

"So…are you…are we…"

"Easy boy…calm your pants."

Zachary grinned.

"You were choice tonight, baby. Chez…him no see you coming with guns blazing…blam, blam…"

Yani giggled.

"Him nuh ready fi mi—"

The words crumpled in her throat.

Chez and his minions were hanging out in the back of the parking area smoking cigarettes and shooting the shit.

"Here mi gyal come with that fire," Chez said. He was smiling at her, but a man like him showing teeth like that wasn't a sign of kindness.

Zachary pulled her back behind him.

"We don't want any trouble. No problems, here Chez," Zachary said.

Yani gripped his arm. Her purse was locked in Zachary's trunk. Her cell phone was in it. She debated about running back to the club to get Dulan and Dex. Or maybe even Twyla. There were three guys with Chez and only two of them.

"Who said there was trouble?" Chez said.

"Chez, just leave us alone," she said pulling Zachary along.

Chez stood in front of her.

"Whose watchin' mi pickney?"

"Sydette is fine. No need for you to worry—"

"I'll take you home," Chez said throwing down his half-smoked cigarillo. He stomped on it and grabbed for her arm.

"I have a ride home with Zachary," she said pulling away from him.

Zachary stepped forward and Chez shoved him back.

"You think yuh taking her home with you? Think you fucking my woman?"

"Would you stop?!" Yani yelled slapping Chez in the face.

"Bitch…putting your hands on me?!"

His hand shot out to grip her again but Zachary struck him in the jaw. The surprise punch only grazed Chez's chin.

"Get you some, nigga!" Chez shouted and pummeled Zachary.

"Chez! Stop it!"

She charged Chez as he held Zachary in a headlock punching him in the side of the head, but Chez's two friends blocked her. Yani reached down and took off one of her sandals and proceeded to strike both men blocking her and they pushed her back, still preventing her from getting to Chez and Zachary.

Zachary was able to get some punches in and Yani stood horrified watching her ex and next go at it. Chez had the upper hand and his third friend jumped in kicking Zachary in his side. Yani ran back to the club half barefoot.

"Goddess, why are you running?"

Erik's friend was outside smoking a cigar, the pungent odor wafting around him with the smoke.

"There are some guys beating up my boyfriend!"

The handsome Arab man followed her back to Zachary and Chez.

"Zachary!" she groaned when she saw his face cut and his nose bloody. Chez was still beating on him and Zachary was flailing to protect himself, no match for Chez and his goon squad.

"Not looking good for your man. I'm afraid," the stranger said.

"Whatchu doin' way over here…oh…damn…"

Erik strolled over with a cigar in his hand. His eyes saw the worry in Yani's face.

"Make them stop!" Yani wailed.

Erik pulled her aside while Tahir grabbed one of the men and shoved him away from Zachary.

"Hold this," Erik said handing her his cigar.

Erik strode over to Chez and with just one hard punch to the right side of her ex's waist, Chez went down on one knee gasping for air and clutching his side.

"Fuck!" Chez screeched.

The Arab man helped Zachary get up while Chez jumped back up still heaving with pain. He swung wildly at Erik who simply stepped back from the scattered non-connecting punches.

"Why don't you just stop before you wear yourself out," Erik teased before grabbing Chez's shirt, lifting him up, and slamming him against Chez's car door.

"Take your punk ass home," Erik said.

"Killmonger!" Yani yelled dropping Erik's cigar.

One of Chez's boys pulled out a gun and pressed the steel to the back of his head.

"What now, bitch?!" Chez cackled, expecting Erik to release him.

"You best use that piece before I turn around," Erik said. His eyes were still on Chez, his hands still clutching Chez's shirt.

Chez's other friend also pulled out a gun, but Erik's buddy moved like a ninja and snatched it out of his hand so quick, Yani missed Erik turning around and, yanking the gun out of the other gunner's hand hemming him up. Erik head-butted him then smashed the gun across his face. Blood spurted between the guy's fingers.

"He broke my fucking nose!"

Erik popped the bullets out of the small gun and flung them over his shoulder before shoving the gun in his waistband.

"Get the fuck on before we really hurt y'all," Erik said, his voice calm.

Chez fumbled for his car keys and Yani ran to Zachary trying to hold him up.

"Should we go to the hospital?" she asked Zachary. His eye was swollen and his nose and lip were bleeding.

"No," Zachary grumbled rubbing his jawline.

Erik and his friend watched Chez and his boys drive away before they turned to check on Yani.

"You okay?" Erik asked.

"I'm fine. Thanks for handling that. They were waiting for us…waiting fi me."

"I don't think your friend is in any shape to drive. Can you two get home?" Erik's partner asked.

Yani stared at him.

"That's Tahir, he's cool," Erik said.

"I can drive," Zachary said.

"No, you can't. You look like shit," Tahir said.

"I can't drive a stick," Yani said.

Erik looked at Tahir. Then Zachary.

"Give me your keys, man," Erik said.

Zachary only glared at Erik with his one good eye.

"Give him your keys, Zachary, I can't drive us to your place."

Yani saw Erik staring at her. She felt her face get warm.

When Zachary didn't move fast enough, Yani reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his keys. She handed them to Erik and slipped her sandal back on.

"The car is over here," she said. She held Zachary's hand as she led Tahir and Erik to his car.

Yani slid into the backseat of the little black Nissan hatchback with Zachary.

"You don't even know these guys that well," Zachary hissed in the backseat, "you could've gotten your cousins—"

"I was getting my cousins, but they were available first. Did you wahn mi waste time looking for dem while yuh getting your ass kicked all over the place?"

The words flew out before she could filter herself and she felt Zachary's whole body cave in from the impact of her words. He turned his face away from her and looked out of the back passenger window. His handsome face was swollen and his once jovial looking-eyes were sour with rage.

"Zachary…I didn't mean it like that…they jumped you. It was an unfair fight…"

"Zachary, man…listen. You did what you were supposed to do. Protect Yani," Erik said from the front seat as he backed the car up.

"Make sure you stay on the correct side of the street," Tahir said from the front passenger seat.

"I got this. Yani, which way?" Erik asked.

She gave him directions as they headed East toward Red Hook.

"Zachary, let me see your face," she said turning on the overhead light. "Turn it off!" Zachary yelled pulling away from her again.

She turned off the light and shrunk back to her side of the backseat.

"Watch how you talk to her," Erik said. Yani caught Erik's eye in the rearview mirror.

"Who the fuck do you think you are—"

Zachary didn't even finish his sentence before Erik jerked the car to a sudden stop in the middle of the road. He turned his head to look back at Zachary, his face in full scowl mode, lips parted, his gold slugs menacing in the shadowed light. But then he looked over at Yani. She felt so embarrassed and scared about what happened, and the coldness coming from Zachary had her confused and hurt. Erik's face relaxed. He stared back at Zachary.

"Look. You got caught in a fucked up sitch. Got your ass handed to you. Trust, I've been there and it sucks when your woman is there to witness that shit. But it is what it is. Don't take your beat down out on her. This ain't her fault or your fault. You were outnumbered. You should feel grateful that she's okay. You took that shit for her. Now own it and get over it, bruh," Erik said.

"Car," Tahir said drawing Erik's attention back to the road.

Yani pressed her head against the passenger window as Erik continued driving. The prick of tears formed in her eyes and she felt them roll down her face. She quickly wiped her cheeks. When she glanced over at Zachary again, he was still hunched up in the corner ignoring her.

"What do you want to do with the guns?" Tahir said.

"Minraji'un ma'na 'ala al villa. Khaleehum," Erik said.

"Rah yerja'oo yidayqu hadul al tnain mara tanyeh? Yerja'oo yedawroo lil asliha?" Tahir asked.

Erik shifted gears on the car.

"Min la'eehum ba'dain. Zyarah mufaja'a mshan ya'rfoo shu rah yeseer lahum iza daya'uhum. Lazim deer bali 'ala Yani. Yimkin abu binta yedayi'ha bisabab ma saweat," Erik said.

Yani's eyes watched Erik and Tahir speak to one another in Arabic. Erik's voice sounded concerned, and she heard him say her name in their conversation.

Erik drove Zachary's car smoothly. Tahir turned to look at her.

"I enjoyed your performance."

"Thank you."

Tahir saw her wipe a tear from her face. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small packet of tissue. He handed one to her. She took the tissue and wiped her eyelids, trying to avoid hitting her false eyelashes.

"You are too pretty to cry, Miss Yani. A Goddess does not cry. Only men cry for her," Tahir said.

Erik's eyes glanced back at her again and she turned her head away from him to look out of the window.

"Take a left here," Yani said.

"Stay on the left, Killmonger," Tahir said slapping Erik's arm with the back of his hand.

"My bad, my bad," Erik said.

Yani smiled.

"Bidak yanah nmoot?" Tahir said.

"No, I don't want us to die. Shut up. I got this," Erik said.

"Your insurance is good my friend?" Tahir said back to Zachary.

Zachary ignored them all and Yani felt the mood chilling once more between them.

"Right over there Killmonger, the orange house," Yani said.

Erik drove in front of Zachary's family home. His apartment was attached to the house.

"Do you know a good cab company that can pick us up?" Erik asked looking back at her. She wiped her eyes again to make sure they didn't look too bad. She glanced at her watch. It was two in the morning. Shit. She didn't even think about them getting back to the compound. She wished she had learned how to drive a stick. Sometimes cabbies didn't like coming to this part of Red Hook late at night.

"I can call a cab for you, but they might not come," she said.

Erik glanced at Tahir. She felt bad.

"I told you to let me drive my own damn car, Yani, now you got these guys stuck—"

"We're not stuck, we can walk," Erik said glaring at Zachary.

"We can drive to my Auntie's house and I can use her car. If you guys can bring Zachary's car back here, I can drive you back to the compound. I'm sorry for all the confusion—"

"Don't be sorry girl, it's not a big deal," Erik said. He saw her wipe her face again and he smiled at her.

"It's an adventure, we cool. Right, Tahir?"

"Cool like ice cubes," Tahir said.

"Zachary, let's get you in the house to clean up first," Yani said.

"No, let's go get the other car. I'm not letting them drive off in my car with you in it. I don't know them. You don't know them."

Yani kept her mouth shut.

"Which way to your Aunt's?" Erik asked.

She gave him easy directions glad the apartment was less than five minutes away.

When they arrived at her Aunt's place, she ran up the stairs. Her little sister Anika was wide awake watching tv.

"Why are you here? I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow," Anika said.

"What is happening?" Leona asked coming into the living room, her housecoat wrapped tight, her black satin bonnet covering her hair.

"I'll explain when I get back. Can I borrow your car Auntie? Chez beat up Zachary and him hurt bad. Mr. Killmonger and Mr. Tahir helped us and I have to get Zachary's car back to his place. Mr. Killmonger is driving it and I need to give them a ride—"

"Go, go, tell me all when you get back."

Yani took the car keys to her Aunt's late model Ford Focus.

"Want mi come with you?" Anika asked.

"No, we're okay. How was Sydette?"

"You know she's a good baby," Anika said smiling.

"Be right back," she said running out of the house.

Yani drove her Aunt's car alone as she had Erik follow her back to Zachary's house.

When Erik and Tahir stepped out of Zachary's car, she watched her bruised and brooding boyfriend stalk away from her as she grabbed her purse from his trunk.

"Zachary," she said.

She ran after him grabbing onto his hand.

"I'll help get you cleaned up and then we can drive them back," she said.

"We cool chilling out here when you're ready," Erik said.

Tahir was already pulling out another cigar to smoke.

"All this driving back and forth," Zachary lashed out. His ire was directed at Yani. She shrank back from him.

"What are we supposed to do? Leave them stranded?" she said, her voice raised. Erik and Tahir heard her.

"We can take the car back ourselves," Tahir said.

Yani reached up for Zachary's face.

"Let's take care of you, okay?" Her fake nails trailed down his uninjured cheek.

"Yani," he whispered.

"I fix you up, and we take them back, then we can be together…okay, love?"

His hand reached out and rubbed her shoulder. "I'm…I'm tired. I can take care of myself…"

"You don't want me to stay with you?"

He shook his head.

A light came on in the main house.

"Shit," Yani said.

Zachary's father came outside. He had on pajama bottoms and a white undershirt.

"What's going on?" he called out.

"Everything is fine," Zachary tossed back. Mr. Harris walked down his porch steps, his large body lumbering toward his son.

"My God, Zach, what happen to your face?"

Yani stepped forward to explain, but Zachary pushed her away.

"Go," he said.

"Go?" Yani answered with a tremulous voice.

Erik stepped forward.

"Who are you?" Mr. Harris said, "you do this to my son?"

"No, Sir—"

"He helped Zachary, Mr. Harris. My ex-boyfriend started trouble—"

"Oh, so this is your fault, Yani? See, Zach. What I tell you?"

Yani felt her lip tremble.

"Yani. Let's go."

She felt Erik's strong calloused fingers clasp her hand.

"I'll take you home. Don't worry about getting us to the compound. We'll stay in a hotel around here. C'mon," Erik said.

Yani watched Zachary walk into his father's house. He didn't even say goodnight or look at her.

"Hey…Yani," Erik said.

His free hand lifted up her chin to look at him.

"He's embarrassed and his face is jacked up. Ego bruised. Let him sleep it off. He'll get back to you."

He squeezed her hand. She didn't want to let it go.

"I'll drive. Give me Leona's keys," Erik said.

She handed them over without letting go of his hand. He led her to the passenger seat. Tahir opened the door for her, then put out his cigar.

They found Leona waiting on the balcony still in her housecoat when they arrived back to the apartment.

"Auntie," Yani said.

Erik and Tahir followed her up to her home so they could relieve themselves in the bathroom before looking for a room.

"Mr. Killmonger. Mr. Tahir," Leona said.

"We'll be out of your hair soon," Erik said.

Leona gave him the biggest smile.

"They're going to find a hotel. They don't want me driving them back to the compound this late—"

"Just stay here, Mr. Killmonger."

Yani's eyes grew wide.

"Anika can sleep in your room and the men can take the couch bed. No sense wasting money for a few hours."

Tahir looked at Erik and Erik glanced over at Yani.

"I mean, if you're cool with that, we'd appreciate it. We can catch one of the island buses or cab back to the compound early," Erik said.

Yani stared at Anika who was ogling both Erik and Tahir. Yani didn't blame her. They both were too damn attractive to ignore, even after a rough night out.

"Is that blood on your shirt, Mr. Killmonger?" Leona asked.

Yani heard Sydette crying in the bedroom.

"Excuse me," she said rushing into her room and turning on the lights.

Sydette shook fists inside her crib that sat between a double bed and a twin bed.

"Hey, Sweet Pea, I'm here," Yani said.

She picked up her daughter.

"You smell so good, I wanna gobble you up."

Sydette gurgled and Yani cradled her, rocking her in her arms gently. She lifted her own arm up for a moment.

"Whew, Mommy smell ripe, Sweet Pea. Anika!"

Her sister walked into the room.

"Ohmigawd, that Killmonger told us what happened at the club. Chez really beat down Zachary?"

Yani nodded.

"And he pulled a gun?"

"His friends did."

"What is wrong with him? He is so stupid….sorry, Yani. I know that's your baby's father, but he is mean to people. And Zachary is so sweet. Is he okay?"

"I think so. He was upset—"

"How long are those men staying at the compound?"

"You can't even give two minutes for Zachary and you're already talking about them?" Yani teased.

"Dem sexy. I notice right away. They single?"

"They are way too old for you."

"Dad was way older than Mommy."

"That was different. They were much older before they had us."

"Killmonger…" Anika said, all dreamy.

"What about him?"

Anika's face went all googly-eyed again.

"You so silly," Yani said, even though she was feeling the same way after holding his hand.

She felt like she went through so many extremes. The coldness of Zachary and Chez and the warmth of Erik when he brought her back to Leona's.

"Can you watch Sydette for five minutes? I'm going to take a quick shower."

Anika took Sydette who fussed for a few minutes.

"She hungry…again," Anika said going out of the room.

Yani heard her Aunt still talking to Erik and Tahir. She grabbed clean nightwear and jumped into the shower fast. She wasted no time cleaning off, even using a cotton ball soaked in baby oil to loosen and remove her fake eyelashes. Once she felt clean and fresh, she changed into her shorts and over-sized t-shirt.

Back in her room, she took Sydette in her arms with a milk bottle Anika held.

"I'm going back to the living room—"

"No, you not. You stay in here now," Leona said.

Yani watched her Aunt's face as she stepped into the room. She couldn't read what she was thinking.

"Auntie," Yani said.

"Zachary no want you to stay with him?" she asked.

"Mr. Harris took him in the house. Blamed me."

"Samuel is an ass. Mi never like him. We talk after church when I get home?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Okay. Goodnight. And don't let her bother the men—"

"They are watching tv, my show. This the only time I can stay up this late and watch scary movies, and now I'm stuck in here. They not even using the couch bed. Mr. Tahir is lying on the floor with a pillow."

"Leave them be," Leona said again.

Anika hopped on Twyla's bed.

"I hear Kendall was good tonight, yeah?" Leona said.

"Him awesome, Auntie. You would be proud—"

"Killmonger say you were on stage too. Him show me video later. How it go?"

"What he say?"

"He seemed impressed. Both of them. That Mr. Tahir says you sounded like an angel."

"I do okay."

"Get some rest."

"Okay."

She heard her Aunt's bedroom door close and her little radio turn on. The soft muffled sound of gospel music played quietly. It would turn off with a timer. Her Aunt always fell asleep fast.

Anika rolled over and faced the wall, her voice still grumbling about being sent to bed.

Yani stuck the bottle nipple in Sydette's mouth. She found comfort being home and with her child. She was happy that she didn't have to explain the situation. Erik took care of everything, giving her brain time to readjust before going in-depth with her Aunt after she went to church.

Sydette drank from the bottle and Yani watched her face.

"You not sleepy yet little one, eh?"

Yani heard the toilet flush and the water from the sink running.

"Auntie?"

"Nah. Just me. Your Aunt gave us little toothbrushes to clean our liquor breath."

Erik stood in the bedroom doorway. He was wearing one of Kendall's shirts instead of his bloodied one.

"She gets those from the compound. Mr. Klaue has her buy them in bulk for the men over there."

"Hey, there she is, Lil Mama," he said watching Sydette.

Yani smiled.

"I can't believe she's still up. We had been doing good with her sleeping through the night."

"She knows when Mama is gone. Waiting up for you."

Anika turned over and stared at Erik.

"Where yuh from?" Anika asked.

"Massachusetts."

"Go to sleep," Yani said, glaring at her sister.

"Nuh sleepy. I want to watch my tv show."

"Auntie told you what you supposed to do—"

"I'm sixteen. I'm not a little kid no more. I watched Sydette by myself all night. I can care for a baby, but can't sit up and watch tv? Serious?"

"It's because you are a young woman among two strange men."

"Two strange men staying inside the apartment that you invited."

"Tahir is knocked out on the floor. You can watch your show for a few more minutes if you let me talk to Yani alone," Erik said.

"Alone? Hmmm," Anika said.

Yani jerked her head toward the door.

"Okay. But if Auntie wakes up and says anything, I blame you."

Anika ran out of the room, and Erik cracked the door a bit for a little privacy.

"Okay, Sweet Pea, time to finish up. Bedtime," Yani said.

"Sweet Pea?"

"I call her that. She so round like a little pea in a pod."

"I like that better. I'll call you Lil Mama instead."

"Mi nuh little."

"I know that for sure."

Erik's eyes held hers and Yani felt nervous being with him. The kind of nervous that came with bad decisions. Poor decisions. Lack of impulse control. Something she was very familiar with when it came to men.

Yeah, him dangerous. A bad boy. And bad boys have always led her astray.

She focused on Sydette.

Erik sat down next to her on the bed, close enough so that his shoulder touched hers.

"She's cuter than I remember. Can I hold her?"

Yani lifted the bottle out of Sydette's mouth and Erik picked her up and held her in the crook of his muscular arm. Taking the bottle from her hand, he placed it in Sydette's mouth and her baby girl accepted Erik as if she had always known him.

"You have experience with babies? Have kids?"

"Experience, yes. Kids? Nah. Baby cousins. I can change diapers and do their hair too," he said.

His dimples relaxed her. His eyes went to stare at Sydette as he held her bottle, and Yani's Sweet Pea stared back at him as her cheeks and lips moved to squeeze out sustenance with his help. Unlike Yani, Sydette had big black eyes, unwavering eyes, bold as a brick through a window. She had eyes that read people well, and when she liked someone it showed with her being content in their presence. She was Yani's barometer of good energy, and thus far, Erik was good enough for her daughter.

When her bottle was empty, Erik handed it to Yani and lifted Sydette up, his left palm cradling her chest while his fingers supported her chin and jaw. He allowed her to lean forward a bit as his right hand gently rubbed her back in circles.

Yani reached for a clean bib and held it next to Erik just in case something more than a burp came out. Sydette made little sounds with her mouth, her eyes looking up to watch Yani's face.

"You're being such a good baby, Sweet Pea," she said.

Her daughter gave a juicy smile with a little drool and then a loud burp came through.

"Big one," Erik said chuckling.

He leaned Sydette back in his arm and played with her right hand, her fingers grasping his and holding them. Yani wiped the little bit of drool that slid down her chin with the bib.

"How often does Chez see her?" he asked.

Chez.

Ugh.

"Not much. Sometimes he stays a few minutes when he brings me money for her. And that isn't much. It's why I work three jobs."

"Three? Damn. How much time do you get to be with her?"

"Not enough."

"Were you working on Friday?"

"Yeah."

"So you weren't avoiding me."

"Avoiding you?"

"What we did, by the pool…"

"Oh."

"How you feel about that?"

"I liked it."

Her words seemed to please him. He had a grin on his face as looked back at Sydette. The baby was squealing and grasping for Erik's wrist.

"She likes you."

"She has good taste."

He pulled down Sydette's yellow t-shirt so it covered her stomach better. She kicked her bare feet in the air and Erik tickled one toe making her laugh.

"I don't understand why Chez would ignore his baby. She's adorable."

"Him have another baby-mother he stay with."

"Before you or after you?"

"During," Yani said.

"Ouch."

"My baby three months older than that other one. Some tramp him knock up while I carry Sweet Pea."

Erik played with Sydette's curls.

"He ever beat up Zachary before?"

"No. They don't know each other, not from the same circles or nothing. He's seen him before, but…no problems like tonight."

"How long you been with Zachary?"

His warm brown eyes were on her face again.

"Almost three months…talking to each other for about three months, but just now starting to date. When I have time. This was the first time I've gone out in a long ass time. Dress up y'know? And of course, Chez ruined it. Zachary won't ever speak to me again."

"You don't know that—"

"Chez had his friends pull guns on you. You think him want to be with a girl with a crazy Ex like that? I wouldn't date me after that shit."

"How serious were you two?"

"You getting all my business, Killmonger."

"I'm nosey."

"Yeah, you are."

They both laughed.

"How serious?"

"Why you want to know?"

"I told you already."

"Told me what?"

"I like you."

"You like my tits."

"Your tits like me, that's why they do what they do."

Yani felt her mouth drop open.

"You ain't answer my question yet."

"Zachary?"

"Yeah."

Yani felt Erik's arm press into hers. So much heat radiated off of him.

"How you say you like me and you just met me? You don't know me at all," she said.

Yani had to put a stop to this.

She felt herself stumbling into her old habit of falling for men she should avoid at all costs, no matter how beautiful they were. The warning signs were screaming at her: Working for Klaue. The scars on his body. The gold slugs that were shaped like big sharp cat teeth.

He was even smart enough to figure out her body's reactions to him. She was surprised her tits weren't tripping with him there on her bed.

"I know enough to know that I like you. You work hard. You speak your mind. Your Auntie adores you and supports you. This beautiful little girl in my arms that you bust your ass for…you can make iguanas move faster than a speeding bullet—"

"Funny!" she said hitting his shoulder with her shoulder.

"I like how you sing, how you try to speak standard English around Klaue but that island patois keeps popping out no matter what. The way you move when you swim…how you're looking at me right now."

"How am I looking at you right now, Killmonger?"

"Like you want to kiss me."

"Tuh—"

"Kiss me, Yani."

"What if I tell you that Zachary and I are serious?"

"Then I'd say I know you're lying, cuz if that were true, you wouldn't let me get this close to you. On your bed."

A small sigh escaped Yani's throat. His face was so near hers.

She acted willingly stupid once more.

Kissed him.

Pressed her lips into his while he held her Sweet Pea, the fresh mint of toothpaste on his breath as his tongue swept inside her mouth seeking the heat of her own tongue.

His lips swallowed hers and she let him have at it, the breath in her throat trapped making her shaky, almost faint. She pulled back from him, a sliver of saliva strung between them when they parted. Yani wiped his lips and then hers.

Erik stood up and placed Sydette inside her crib. The baby was awake on her back, but she was quiet and calm lying there. Erik knelt in front of Yani and cradled her face in his hands.

"You're not serious, right? Tell me the truth, cuz if you are, I will stop."

She didn't answer because she honestly wasn't sure.

"Yani," he said, and took her mouth again, exploring every nook and cranny and crevice, taking ownership of the moist space between her lips. She rested her hands on his shoulders, afraid to touch anywhere else. She was well aware that her bedroom door was ajar and anyone could walk in and see them.

He sucked on her bottom lip and she let her fingers trace the curves of his ears. Her lips took control of his, and he submitted, his hands traveling under her shirt. She was braless and when she felt his fingers tweak her nipples, the sensation shot down to her clit and she released his lips.

"Ooh," she sputtered, pushing back from him.

His hands continued to play with her breasts and she felt the tingly hot sensation of her milk falling down.

He lifted up her shirt and she felt his lips latch onto her left nipple, the pleasure from his sucking causing her to whimper softly. His lips and tongue were really tugging on her and she felt her milk release into his mouth.

She clasped the sides of her shirt with both hands and lifted it higher so she could watch him suck her, his mustache and beard grazing her nipple and her cleavage as he moved his face across her chest and latched onto her other nipple. Her head fell back and her knees shook.

"Killmonger," she panted, "stop…please."

He groaned and she looked back down at him as he opened his mouth and squeezed her right breast, a stream of milk squirting right onto his tongue. His head turned toward the crib as he licked his lips and swallowed.

"She's asleep, don't worry," he said looking back at her, massaging her tits, and watching pale liquid drip from her peaks.

"God…" she mumbled, her eyes unfocused, his touches leading her into a world of trouble.

The fingers of her right hand dropped down to her shorts and she fumbled with sticking her hand between her thighs…

"Jesus!" she moaned when she felt Erik's fingers passing hers inside the material and scissoring her slick clit.

"It's okay for me to touch you like this, right? Let me know, Yani…fuck you are so wet, girl…"

"Taste mi wet sugah," she whispered.

She widened her thighs for him and peeled back the crotch of her shorts.

"Fuck, Baby," he grunted, dropping his face down, his generous lips covering her vulva. She heard the loud wet kiss he gave her down there, the hot feel of his mouth knotting her stomach with nervous anticipation of being caught. The wide swathe of his tongue licked up and down her engorged folds, but then he stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong, Killmonger?"

He kissed her swollen lower lips again and then sat back up, bringing his face close to hers. His cheeks and beard were shiny with her slick, his eyes glazed over like hers. He shook his head like it pained him to stop.

"Shit…you so fucking sweet, Yani. I don't want to do this here. I don't want to upset your Aunt or disrespect you in her home."

"Yuh no disrespect me, man. For real. I want you to kiss me there some more…"

There was mirth in his eyes and he leaned in and kissed her forehead instead. She felt his finger graze her clit again as he fixed her shorts. She saw the obvious tent in his crotch, his thick imprint straining against his pants.

She grabbed for his neck, tried reeling him back to her hot mouth, but he clasped her hands in his.

He took a deep breath. Several actually. He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead again.

Her cell phone startled her as it vibrated on her dresser. She jumped up and grabbed it before it woke up Sydette.

"It's Zachary," she said.

"You don't sound happy about that."

Erik stood up and glanced over at Sydette.

"Yellow is her color. Yours too," he said.

"Killmonger—"

"Talk to Zachary."

He left her alone with the baby.

###

She was too much.

The ride in the cab back to the compound was a quiet one. Tahir was still a bit hungover, and Erik didn't get any sleep in Yani's home. He never slept for more than three hours a night anyway, but he never felt his eyes close at all sitting on the couch in their living room waiting for the sun to rise. Tahir snored on the floor, and Erik stayed sitting upright, his balled fists resting on his thighs.

She worked three jobs.

Barely saw her child.

Had a quarrelsome and violent Ex.

Maybe had a boyfriend who couldn't protect her without getting bodied.

Lived in a household that gave her no privacy.

His jumping into the mix was not going to help her. She really didn't need three men and a baby to juggle.

And damn if she didn't feel and taste like heaven on earth. Told him to lick up her wet sugar between her generous thighs.

"Fuck. Me," he thought, watching the scenery go by as he stared out of the cab window.

Back at the compound, he took a long cold shower in his new room inside of Klaue's main house. Klaue was down on his beach swimming, so Erik had a bit of quiet time to himself. He fixed himself some plain black Kenyan coffee and scrambled eggs, wishing he had some shrimp and cheese grits to comfort him.

He wanted to go swim in the cove, but it would only have him think of Yani, and thinking of her made his dick hard. Jerking off in the shower didn't help, and his lips kept itching when he thought of sucking milk from her tits. And licking her pussy…

When Yani peeled back her shorts he got to see up close that pretty pussy with the fleshy inner labia. He'd eaten plenty of pussy in his life, seen all shapes and sizes of vulvas, clits, and inner lips. Yani's pussy reminded him of something primordial and from the sea itself, soft and ultra- slippery like the wings of a manta ray spread wide and floating free. How would those inner lips feel like if he pushed his length into her? Would they curl around the root of his shaft? Or stay open and welcoming, cushioning his heavy sack?

He was sprung and he knew it. Cursed it, but accepted it. The island lowered his defenses, but it wasn't too late to try and wean himself from her. The team would be leaving for Angola in two weeks, and distance had a way of cutting off interest for him.

He had to compartmentalize again. Shelve this girl and put his energy into Klaue and the next mission. There was a woman Klaue wanted him to check out who had exceptional cyber tech skills, fresh out of the Air Force and hungry for mercenary work. Linda. That was her name. Solid reputation. Vetted by a former colleague, but Erik wanted to vet her himself before Klaue offered her any spot on the compound crew. Some women were tricky when it came to mercenary work. They could sometimes be a hindrance, especially in certain Middle Eastern and African countries with strict gender roles. 

The arsenal they were moving was huge, expensive, and had to clear through several checkpoints before making it to their final base. They needed an ace to handle cyber subterfuge, and there was no time to waste if this Linda turned out to be a dud. Procurement of the munitions and heavy artillery had to be done for Klaue's clients soon. There was so much political instability and so many gratuitous mini-wars blossoming across the continent that money was being made hand over fist. Afghanistan was next on the list, but throughout it all, Klaue and Erik were on the hunt for more vibranium. The black-market value was at a premium. They just needed to be one step ahead of the U.S. government, the World Security Council, and some elements of S.H.I.E.L.D. Linda had better be up to the task in keeping up with Klaue who had fingers in several armament pies globally.

Erik swiped on the tv mounted inside the kitchen island counter and switched the channel to the BBC news feed.

"Tony-fucking-Stark," Erik mumbled when he saw the man speaking at a U.N. council meeting.

He sipped his coffee and watched his former mentor speak. The man had a few more grays in his hair and beard. Being Iron Man was aging him fast.

What would Tony think of him now?

Erik was a long way off from being that fresh-faced nineteen-year-old intern running around Tony in Malibu, trying to keep up with him and absorb what he could. He remembered the constant monitoring at M.I.T. and Tony's unannounced pop-up visits to Cambridge, always trying to convince Erik to forget the Navy.

"Now look at us," Erik whispered, his coffee gone lukewarm. Both on a mission to change the world.

"Still an arrogant ass no matter whose side you're on T," Erik said.

He flipped the channel to the cartoon network hoping the background animation chatter would be the white noise he needed to relax.

"Finally back," Klaue said, sliding open the side kitchen door. He tracked in sand from the beach as he wiped his arms off with a large white beach towel.

"All nighter," Erik said re-filling his coffee mug.

"I'm sure the ladies loved you two last night."

"We had an interesting night. What time do you want to start tomorrow?"

"Early…eight. Leona will fix a brunch spread so we can work through the afternoon. I want us to test some munitions on the gun range and start booking flights into Jo'burg."

Klaue stared at the scars on Erik's bare chest.

The man never questioned Erik about the markings, just like Erik never questioned the brand on the side of the man's neck. Erik already knew what that shit was. His father had taught him a bit of the Wakandan language, and he knew how to write a few words using the Wakandan symbolic alphabet. The brand on Klaue was a combination of two graphemes that when spoken issued the sound of a lowlife.

Thief.

Without knowing all the details in full, Erik knew his father's people had captured Klaue and burned his pale treacherous skin before the man escaped. Branded for life with twisted angry red flesh. Not only was the maggot a thief of vibranium, but the thief of a legacy, Erik's legacy. And his blood. He quickly looked away from his enemy and drank more coffee before his eyes narrowed, betraying him, and he did something he would regret. The tv screen on the counter turned solid blue with a chipper automated female voice announcing the arrival of someone and then a picture of Tahir popped up.

"Entrance granted," Klaue said aloud as the front door opened and Tahir entered the domain.

"Killmonger? Klaue?"

"In here," Klaue called out, pouring himself a coffee and standing near Erik.

Tanner in color, hair glossy and damp from swimming in the pool, Tahir looked like the perfect tourist.

"Good morning," Tahir greeted.

"Coffee?" Klaue asked.

"No thank you. I'm cutting back on caffeine," Tahir chirped, using his fingers to pick up pieces of Erik's uneaten scrambled eggs.

"Savage," Erik joked. Tahir washed his hands in the sink.

"Any word on getting you on with us for this leg of the world tour?" Klaue asked.

"Nothing yet. But I'm good for Afghanistan," Tahir said sitting on a barstool and glancing at the BBC news feed.

"Excellent. I was just telling Killmonger we have a busy day tomorrow. Be prepared to do some gun range shooting and going over the shipment with the other men."

"Sure thing, Boss."

The landline rang.

"The call I've been expecting. Excuse me for a moment," Klaue said exiting toward his bedroom.

It was odd living with Klaue in the main house. He had a master bedroom with a tremendous view of the ocean that he didn't use. Erik was staying in that room. Klaue took a smaller less spectacular room in the back of the house, away from the open views.

The man was a night owl, mainly taking overseas calls and juggling his next big take. He slept in late every morning until usually ten in the morning. He would sometimes go for a swim and then meet with them for late lunches. It was rare to see him at breakfast, Leona or Yani taking a plate of food for him to heat up in the main house. Like Erik, he enjoyed solitude, but when Klaue was around people, a burst of his extroverted energy would engulf the surroundings. Almost a wild savage need to be the main force in the room. Erik noticed he had cut back on drinking, probably preparing for the mission. Sobriety wasn't the man's strong suit, but he did get down to the nitty-gritty when it was time to talk and do business.

Erik's eyes glanced up from the tv screen.

Tahir's face was full of concentration.

"Ma busiq bihada al Klaue. Rah yekhounah," Tahir said.

"You don't have to trust him, just trust his money. And he won't betray us…not any time soon. He needs me," Erik said. Tahir's face looked uncertain, even with Erik's confidence.

"I don't know, my friend…"

"Inta khalee Klaue la ilee. Rah ntali' minu masaree wa nitruko li alnusur," Erik said.

"Okay, okay. I'll leave him to you as you say. Make this money and bounce. But leave him to the vultures?"

"I said what I said."

"Personal."

"Business," Erik said with finality.

"Maybe I will have some coffee," Tahir said picking up a coffee mug.

###

Erik stuffed earplugs in just before Klaue began the loud rapid-fire shots from the Israeli 308 Semi-Auto rifle.

"This has very mild recoil," Klaue said when he stopped firing.

"Decent weapon, they've been copying the Russian AK-47s and the Finnish RK 62s over the years. You should get a good price for them, but you should really stick with your South African supplier. Not a great demand for Galil ACEs in Africa," Tahir said.

Erik watched Polk, Huntsman, Shipley, and the others as they took turns firing new AK-47s and a few South African Vektor Battle rifles.

Their targets were struck with the hard metal pings of steel on steel, each man a crack shot. Erik was more interested in the smaller arsenal of handguns. A new small arms gun culture was sweeping many parts of Africa and several African countries were manufacturing some of their own weaponry. Being South African helped Klaue do a lot of cross border arms trafficking in his own country, and he was able to make quick sales that would prove more lucrative as time went on. Especially with so many arms embargos occurring in East and North Africa recently.

Erik waited for the men to finish with his gun pointed downrange. His eye protection was warming up from the sun and he could feel sweat sliding down his cheeks.

When it was his turn to go, he let loose a fast clip of shots.

"Hold up! Hold up!" Klaue called out, staring at his cell.

Everyone stopped shooting.

"Refreshments gentlemen. Break time," Klaue said.

Erik put the safety on the gun and placed it on his side holster. When he took off his goggles and popped out the earbuds, he saw Yani and Leona walking above them under the gun range veranda pulling little wagons filled with food and drinks.

Erik and Tahir followed the men up to where the women set out big plastic dispensers filled with lemonade and ice water, along with platters of turkey and roast beef sandwiches. Thank you's were given to the women, and Erik did his best to ignore Yani.

She was once again dressed in a simple t-shirt and some loose sweats, and when her eyes sought his he turned away from her, filling up a large plastic cup with ice and lemonade, turning to face the ocean when he drank.

Klaue glanced at his watch.

"Take a half hour and we'll continue," Klaue said.

Erik grabbed a roast beef sandwich and walked away from the gun range. Yani and Leona stayed put, and he could hear Tahir speaking to them. There was no way he could stand there and eat knowing that she was going to bore holes into his face with her eyes, trying to read what he was feeling.

He sat under the veranda of Klaue's main house and watched a cruise ship approach the island far in the distance.

"Killmonger."

Fuck.

He put down the sandwich he had wrapped in a napkin on a patio table near his chair.

"What do you want, Yani?" he snapped.

Her face looked taken aback by his gruff response. He hoped she wouldn't start doing this, following him around the compound and being obvious.

She held out a cell phone for him.

"Mr. Klaue asked me to bring this to you," she said.

"For what?"

"A phone call, I guess," she said, her face now neutral with him.

Phone call?

Then he remembered. Klaue wanted him to have a new satellite phone that went through him and not Erik’s own personal one. He said he was going to pass them out during lunch.

"Oh…yeah. Thanks—"

She turned around abruptly and stalked away from him.

Great.

"Yani…hey, hold up…"

He trotted after her.

"I'm working, like you," she called back to him.

Let her go.

Erik stopped following her. He was supposed to compartmentalize. Stay on the grind. Leave that girl's hectic life alone.

He finished his sandwich and turned the cell on. Memorized the number.

Back at the gun range, the women had left and they all continued going over weapons with Tahir checking the product samples that they would be moving in Angola. Klaue wanted Tahir prepping his men to know what to look for in case some duds got through or someone tried to slip some well-manufactured imitations that the Ghanaians, Somalis, and Nigerians were creating on their own and selling as counterfeit product. Erik could tell Klaue was desperate to have Tahir with him.

Tahir was still leery of the man, and this made Erik appreciate his associate more. He could sense the foul in any situation.

Erik spent the evening in Klaue's living room researching Linda Chambers on his laptop. Her military record was standard-fare with a few commendations for her work while being stationed in Bagram Air Base in Parvan Province Afghanistan. Discharged as a technical sergeant, Linda spent time working for AramStar a private security contractor before popping up on the deep web offering her services. He made a few calls on his own phone, and then surfed some private links to get some intrusive factual data on her.

Single. Home base New York. Clean record.

He ran her credit and noticed a large amount of debt. Some overextended credit cards. A defaulted loan. Forty-thousand still owed for a two-year-old beemer. Broke with expensive tastes.

He stared at her military picture. Cute. He found some online photos on her private social media account. Cuter. Sexy even when she went all out.

She needed money. Her military and cyber tech skills were valuable on the black market. No shame in looking for big pay. She enjoyed skiing, mountain-climbing, and hang-gliding, all adrenaline rush hobbies. She also spoke Arabic.

Could be a keeper.

He sent a private encrypted message to her. If she was good, it wouldn't take her long to break the code and get back to him. Especially if she was hungry for the life.

Laughter outside.

Klaue, Tahir, Huntsman, and Klaue's long-time partner Limbani walked up the hill from the beach.

Yani stood outside near the veranda holding a stack of towels. Erik glanced at his watch. It was almost dinner time. Why was she still here? Who was watching Sydette?

He put his computer on sleep mode and walked out onto the wrap-around veranda. The men took the towels and headed up to the first house for dinner. Yani was trailing behind Klaue and the men when Erik caught up to her.

"Yani. Why are you still here? Who is watching Sweet Pea?"

"I work later when all the men are here. Auntie can't do everything by herself with this many people."

She'd been there since seven that morning. Ten hours away from her baby so far.

"Who has Sydette?"

"Twyla doesn't work today and Kendall is home now too. She's fine."

"She have enough milk for today?"

He had no idea why he said that, but it made her smile.

"She have plenty, Killmonger."

He wanted to live inside that smile.

"I have to go help, Auntie. Dinner ready in about fifteen minutes. Steak tonight."

"Cool…"

She turned to leave.

"How is Zachary?"

"He's okay. He texted me. We didn't talk over the phone. Mouth too sore…"

Her voice had that enchanting lilt that he came to crave so much.

"Are you two…I mean everything will work out for y'all, right"

Her eyes dropped away from his and stared at the ground.

"I don't think so. He didn't sound positive, and he's scared of Chez…so…it's probably best."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's hard, y'now…hard being with me. He comes from a good family, and he's a Mama's boy, and his Mama doesn't want him with a woman with a child already. He's finishing at the University soon and needs to concentrate on that."

"His loss."

"Yeah, well, mine too I guess."

The early evening sunlight struck the side of her face illuminating her satiny skin. He wanted to stroke her cheek and tell her everything would be fine and that she'd find the right guy someday and all the stuff that people needed to hear when their hearts were broken or breaking.

Truth was, he was glad Zachary couldn't hang. Punk ass. Pouted like a little bitch in the backseat of the car when his woman needed to be hugged and reassured after witnessing violence like that. Young niggas nowadays just didn't have the balls anymore to just take an ass whooping like a man and keep it pushing. Win some, lose some. Next.

"I don't know what else to say, Ma, except I'm sorry."

"I'll be alright. I gotta go," she said pointing up toward the front house.

"Yeah, you better dip before your Aunt comes looking for you."

He rubbed his palms together and took a step back from her.

She walked away from him.

Damn this girl.

Taking quick long strides, Erik caught her hand in his and pulled her back against him, his head lowering to hers as he took her lips once more. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms holding his wide shoulders tight.

This was madness, their sloppy wet kisses making him tumble further down the rabbit hole with her. Their heads shifted left and right, each trying to devour the other's face. She let go of his lips first.

"I gotta go, Killmonger!"

"I know," he said catching her lips again, his hands slipping down to clutch onto her ass. He pushed her up against one of Klaue's coconut palm trees.

"Shit," he huffed when he felt the warmth and shape of her vulva molded against his dick. He had on light linen pants to protect his legs from all the mosquitos, and they both could see the large bulge standing up as her pussy rocked against it, and fuck if she wasn't grinding on his shit. He could feel his pre-cum leaking. He rubbed his dick back into her with the same amount of pressure she gave.

Once he had good balance, he lifted her up a bit and bounced her on his length, knowing her core was dripping. He rotated his hips, hitting her mound from different angles, always keeping that delicious friction

"You're so hard…I can feel all that big dick…this how you fuck, Killmonger?"

His voice hitched in his throat. How could she make such a dreadful nickname sound so erotic in his ear? She had him groaning hard and he wasn't even inside her fat pussy yet. He found an angle that his dick hit that made her clamp her mouth shut, and he stuck with that friction. He was hitting that clit just right because her head fell back and she was whimpering like she couldn't take anymore from him.

The heat between them was incendiary and when he felt ready to erupt, she wailed in his ear, "I'm cumming, Killmonger!"

He emptied his sack after hearing his name shouted from her lips, his dick spitting all in his pants, staining the cotton material. It was a thick nut, the semen hot and sticky inside the linen.

"Oh fuck…Yani…got me out here like this girl…fuucckk!"

She started laughing at him and he chuckled too having to stop and groan a few more times when he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm quaking his legs.

His cell phone vibrated in his back pocket.

He put Yani down and she tried fixing her sweatpants. Luckily, she had thin dark sweats on, the wetness from his pants only leaving a damp trace on her clothes. That could dry and be unnoticeable by the time she made it back up to the front house.

"Stop laughing at me girl," he said, play slapping her left butt cheek, "I gotta change my clothes because of you."

He reached out to strike her backside again, but she jumped away from him covering her butt with her hands.

"Go on girl, get up there," he said.

He glanced down at his cell phone.

A notification.

When he pulled up the link, he knew exactly who it was.

She was fast. Clearly skilled at breaking encryption codes.

Linda...

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

If you liked this work, please check out  my “Forty-Seven G” & “Say Less”

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Ulysses Klaue Masterlist

The Deal

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