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theboyz-engup · 5 years

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Moon’s Convenience - Juyeon 2019 Birthday One Shot

Juyeon was looking at the little rack of chips as the bell near the front went off. The door opened and in swooped cold air, hitting the skin exposed between his shoes and cuffed pants. It reminded him to hurry, that it didn’t matter what bag he picked because he probably wasn’t going to find the time to eat it anyways. He was already late for his own party.

Grasping at a blue bag, he turned on his heel and headed between the aisles. It was usually empty, this corner of the street never busy enough to get this place bustling. Juyeon wondered how it stayed afloat seeing at he’d literally only ever been in here alone. Except there was you, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy shirt tucked in at the front. You had an apple in your hand, one you’d probably taken from the front basket, and you were chomping down on it as you looked at the fridge. Completely in your own world, you looked rather cute under the bright hanging lights. Juyeon caught his smile in the reflection of the fridge doors and quickly hid it away, going to pay for his chips. He picked up a can of pringles on the way, deciding he’d keep these for home.

“Hey, Moonbin,” the boy hummed, placing his items on the glass counter. A collection of lottery tickets, some scratched at already and placed at the bottom of the piles, stood underneath the counter. The pink haired boy in front of Juyeon groaned, going to scan his items.

“Pops put you up to working tonight?”

Bin nodded, his usually chipper appearance quite the opposite. His wide mouth opened to complain, “on a Saturday night, can you believe? He knows I have practices every day, he can at least spare me some time so I don’t have to work here too.”

Juyeon shrugged, sympathizing but not knowing what else to say. “He needs a break too sometimes.”

Another groan. “You sound just like him.”

All Ju did was chuckle in response, moving to grab his items in the plastic bag. Just as he fastened his fingers around the bag, he suddenly couldn’t see. A big mechanical clicking happened and then, from above, very faint blue filled the store.

“Are you kidding me?” Moon Bin whined, looking like his milk had curdled right in front of his face.

“What just happened?”

“Power outage,” Bin huffed, sitting down in his seat behind the counter. He slumped forward, elbows on the counter and hands holding his cheeks- or rather, pulling at them. His lips stretched as he did so and Juyeon clicked his tongue.

“Right, well,” he started, wanting to make it better but realizing he was officially half an hour late, “I’ll make sure to talk to Pops. Maybe one day he can treat you with a Saturday off and we can hang.”

“Promise?” The boy’s eyes lit up at the offer. Juyeon sometimes found it hard to believe they were the same age.

“Pinky promise.”

“Hey, uh,” your voice travelled across the store, the sound of slight clanging coming from your direction, “can I still open the fridge to get a drink?”

Bin shook his head. “No, sorry. All the doors lock to make sure the air pressure and coolness or whatever doesn’t get out.”

A frown appeared on your face, eyebrows furling and lips pouting as you muttered, “but I finally figured out what I wanted.” Turning back to the fridge, you placed a hand on the glass and whispered something. So, very dramatic. It made Juyeon snicker until he realized-

“Wait, did you say all the doors lock?”

Pink hair flopped up and down.

“Jesus Chri-” Juyeon stopped himself, turning and pushing on the door. No such luck. With a bit of a whine of his own, he tried again and again, ignoring Moon Bin’s attempt to reason with him.

“No, Ju- yeah, it’s not gonna op- can you stop, it might trigger the alarm- Juyeon!”

With the final call, Juyeon sighed and slumped forward. His head hit the glass of the door, icy cold drops of water sinking into his skin. After a beat of silence, Bin’s voice came through.

“Well, we can just hang now. Not like there’s anything better to do.”

Tiredly taking the bag of pringles from his bag, Juyeon lifted it up. His face was still pressed against the glass, eyes closed. “Want some?”

It had been an hour since the power went out and there seemed to be no signs of getting it back on any soon. Juyeon checked twitter and all other social media sites, looking for any news but the most he got was that they were looking into it. Moon Bin had decided that, after a few snacks, he was going to take a nap. You were somewhere in the back, picking up calls and responding to people. Juyeon caught your eye once or twice but you would quickly look away and flick your eyes back to your phone. He wondered how much battery you were going to have by the rest of the night.

Slumping in his chair, he looked behind him to see Bin fast asleep. His mouth was slightly open and his forehead was pressed against the wall as he lied somewhat uncomfortably on the couch in the back room. Ju snickered, shaking his head at how ridiculous his friend looked. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t believe they were the same age. Just as his smile was fading, he heard a loud clatter and looked in the direction of the sound.

“Please stop,” he heard you whisper as he rounded the corner of the counter and peaked down the aisle. You were holding plastic toys in against the shelves as best as you could with your hip while your hands struggled to keep more things from falling. Frisbees and the like were scattered around your feet.

“Need any help?”

The sound of his voice clearly startled you, a little yelp escaping your teeth as you jumped a bit. Whatever you were trying to hold back slid slowly enough for Juyeon to run the few steps to you and prevent most of it from falling over. He snickered a bit, seeing you get embarrassed as you held things in.

“Thanks,” you murmured, though he wasn’t sure why you were thanking him. He made more of a mess than you did originally.

That didn’t stop him from slipping out a silky, “no problem.”

Whenever Juyeon looked up at you, bending over to grab what was on the floor while you readjusted the shelf, you would flick your eyes away and focus heavily on the task at hand. Your eyebrows scrunched inwards and your lip pulled in as you pretended to be very hard at work. It was difficult not to have an opinion on you in what little time he’d spent next you (in complete silence, he might add). He couldn’t explain what it was but he was very drawn into you, trying to find your eyes and hoping you’d say something to open up conversation.

Sweat on his palms, he straightened and handed you the final object. You took it from him without saying much but another weak thanks and keeping your eyes down. Maybe my straight face is throwing you off, he thought, putting on a smile to fix the situation. That only seemed to embarrass you more when you caught sight of it, head down and away.

Maybe not.

“So, what were you trying to steal?” he asked, hoping you’d take to the joke.

Instantly, you protested, “n-nothing!”

“Oh,” he drew out, looking at the way your hands clenched, eyes opened wide and how confident you suddenly became. You were looking him in the eye. “That was too quick of a response, I don’t know if I believe you.”

“No, really,” you insisted, a little shake of your head making him smile, “I was just trying to grab this bright pink frisbee but it was all the way at the back and I didn’t want to move the rest of the frisbees so I just kinda reached and- and yeah.”

Scanning the toys on the shelf, he noticed there wasn’t a pink one at all and figured you must’ve picked it up. Nodding slowly, he continued, “that checks out. I’m letting you off the hook for now.”

A hand over your heart, you said lightly, “my saviour. I can’t take being reported to the police.”

“Oh?” He snickered. “On the run, are we?”

With a shrug, you brought a finger up to your lips and shushed. Under the pale lights above, your eyes seemed to sparkle as you relaxed into someone who could face him without getting shy. Finger coming down and hand extending forward, you took it upon yourself to tell him your name. He shook your hand, thinking it rather formal but quickly noticing you weren’t exactly what some people would call normal.

“So, why are you here, Lee Juyeon?” Your eyebrow hitched up, seemingly pulled by a string from the corner of it and kept there. Almost leaning against the shelves as you folded your arms, you fixed him with such an entrancing look. Your eyes were such a colour that he felt he could just dive right in and lie there, swimming in the thoughts and stars that existed in them. It was rare for him to ever be this enamoured with someone in a split second but he was instantly snatched up in your cosmic pull and now, he couldn’t walk away.

“I was picking up chips for, uh,” he paused, losing track of where he was in his sentence as you turned and went to look at food yourself, “my- my birthday party. It’s a surprise party actually but, you know.”

You smiled, turning your head so he could see it. “How is it a surprise party if you know about it?”

“Well,” he started, trailing behind you and kicking his feet up. His hands were somehow in his pockets. “My friends don’t know I know- except for one of them but I don’t blame him for telling me. Eric can’t keep any secrets.”

Chuckling his last sentence, he thought of his friend clamping a hand over his mouth as he said a little too much after getting into the alcohol cabinet. He hiccupped and shook his head, saying Juyeon didn’t hear a thing and that he was wrong and mistaking him. The spoiled surprise didn’t quite bother Ju though. He rather liked knowing what was going to happen; going into tonight blind might have been a poor decision. He wouldn’t have even stopped for chips, and then he wouldn’t have seen you.

“Sounds like quite a friend,” you hummed, stopping in front of the fridge and sighing under your breath, “man, I really want that Arizona.”

“He means well, even if he is a bit loose-lipped.”

Juyeon kept his eyes on you for a moment, little smile on his lips as he watched you pine for a drink. He’d never seen someone so completely lost in their own world, someone with a 4D character that never matched from one minute to the next. When you turned your head to him, he darted his eyes to his shoes much like you’d done earlier. Head tilted down, he raised his eyes to look at you through his lashes. It seemed to make you speechless, whatever reason you had for opening your mouth falling flat. Instead, you decided on turning on your heel and walking away from him.

He couldn’t help but snicker, following you around just as well.

Eventually, the two of you settled on a spot in the back of the store, far from the cool air drifting in underneath the front entrance and the snores of Moon Bin. Ju cracked open his bag of chips and you were chomping on some candy you promised to pay for. With the pen you had in your pocket, you wrote down exactly what you had on your hand to remember. Somehow, when you weren’t tongue tied and when he wasn’t figuring out how to steady his beating heart, the both of you got to talking very easily.

“I just don’t see the point in real television anymore,” he stated, popping a chip in his mouth. This seemed to insult you entirely.

“Excuse me!”

Apparently, you had much to say on this. As you structured your three point, five paragraph essay, hands swirling around and finger pointing very aggressively, Juyeon couldn’t help but laugh at you. You looked so ridiculous, so fired up about something he didn’t think would be offensive, and he loved it.

It got to the point that, in the middle of your own argument, you started to giggle as well, seeing the humour in the situation. You sounded like a melody, eyes closing and mouth wide. Your hands came to cover it as you giggled. He wished you wouldn’t, your smile one of his favourite things about you. Then, the laughter died down and you prodded at him.

Do you have a girlfriend? How’s work? Do you think you’ll like being in school for so long? The questions just piled on, most of which he hardly knew the answer to.

“You never told me what you were doing here, by the way.” As a light transition to fill the black out’s lifespan, Juyeon switched the conversation back to you. You seemed extra focused on what his friends were like, where the party was, etc. There was all this conversation and yet, he felt like he hardly knew you.

Your eyebrows raised a smidgen, lips parting for a moment as you wrote on your hand ‘aero bar x2’, wrapper crunched in your hand. Absentmindedly, you answered, “I was on my way to my boyfriend’s house.”

“O-oh.”

Juyeon tried hard to hide the disappointment in his voice as he said it. He focused his gaze on the tiling between his outstretched legs and tried to ignore the frown on his face. You didn’t seem to notice though, prattling on as you finished writing your little note to self.

“He didn’t know I was coming, I just kind of wanted to show up and say hello. I know I probably should’ve dressed better but it was a real snap decision, as are most things in my life. Walking in here was one too.” You added the last sentence quickly, trying to reason out your actions. From where he sat, Juyeon figured it sounded like you didn’t want to see him, though he kept that thought to himself.

Instant bitterness wasn’t something he was used to but it left a sour taste in his mouth. He closed the opening of his chip bag, unsure of what to say so instead choosing to say nothing. A beat of silence hopped around you two until you chuckled rather coldly. When he looked at you, he saw your lips form a straight line.

“What is it?”

A shrug fell off your shoulders, the coat you were wearing threatening to slip off your bones. “I just think it’s funny that he’ll get mad if I don’t text him back immediately but the entire power is out all over the city and, uh, he can’t find it in him to message me back?”

Another scoff came through the air. Juyeon was surprised it came from him and at his next words.

“Sounds like he doesn’t deserve you.”

Silence filled the air again, a nod coming from your direction before it stopped. Then, you furrowed your eyebrows. Your voice was cold. “How would you know?”

“Um,” Juyeon slipped out, immediately feeling the chill in the air. It wasn’t the smartest thing to say but it was all he could think of. “Lucky guess?”

To that, you made a small, disapproving sound and took to picking at the polish on your nails. Tucking his chin in, Juyeon knew he said something stupid. He always did this, really. Meaning his best, he would word vomit and before he knew it, he was in a hole he didn’t mean to make. Someone once told him that his whole life was exactly the saying ‘the road to hell is paved with good intentions’. They wouldn’t exactly be wrong. His cheeks were on fire from embarrassment and he figured this was just a taste of what he could expect down there.

“Listen, I’m sorry for opening my mouth about something I don’t know anything about,” he murmured. Being quiet was one of the ways he tended to show remorse, though he doubted it worked. Fidgeting with the zipper of his coat as he said it, he frowned. God, he must’ve looked so childlike.

All you did was shrug again, matching his pitch as you said, “it’s fine, I’m used to it.”

Then, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. Kicking up from your spot, you wandered around a bit before looking at him for direction. He pointed west and you got your bearings somehow, disappearing behind a little wall. The moment the door shut, Juyeon let out the breath he was holding and sighed.

Bringing his legs in and creating a cage for his face and planting his palms firmly into his eyes, he couldn’t believe himself. This seemed to be a general situation for him. Things would be going well and then he’d somehow find a way to ruin it. With a slight groan, he released some of his anger with himself. Why did he have to be so mouthy? He could have just held his tongue and not said something so obviously inappropriate to someone he hardly knew but no, he just had to say it; and what right did he have to say it? Who did he think he was.

Reeling in all the thoughts he assumed you were holding in your head too, Juyeon frowned. What a way to spend his birthday, huh.

The sound of whirring brought him back to life, removing a palm from his eye to notice the lights had changed and become brighter. Getting up slowly, he went to the fridge and listened to the way it buzzed, coolness coming through the glass again. Of course, Juyeon thought, shaking his head. Just as he made the situation awkward, he couldn’t fix it because you would be on your way. He’d have to run too.

Going back to his corner, he picked up his coat off the ground and shook off the dust. Waiting for you to come back, he leaned against the empty wall and scrolled through his phone to distract himself. The first text he got was from Eric.

Eric, 9:31p.m: Hyung! Swing by Kevin’s apartment. Everything’s still on for tonight :D

Juyeon smiled, not bothering to respond. He looked through Twitter once more, scrolling for whatever caught his eye to avoid thinking. If he did any more of that, he’d chew himself up from in the inside out. He doubted that was flattering.

“Power’s back,” you stated, like you wanted to continue conversation. Your voice was light now, smile thin but on your lips. Did you have a change of heart? Was his apology enough?

“Seems like it.” Fidgeting still, Juyeon extended the bag of chips to you, touching your lower arm lightly with his hand. “You can have it if you want. You said these were your favourite, right?”

Your lips stretched upwards just a tick more. Your hands just brushed as you took his place holding the bag and he released. He hated the way his heart jumped to his throat by the small touch.

“Thank you,” you hummed, getting a bit shy. There you were again, changing moods to that first person he saw knocking over toys in the back.

“Make sure to pay for those snacks, and the frisbee,” Juyeon reminded, tilting his head in Moon Bin’s direction as he said, “or else I’ll have to turn you into the authorities.”

“I’m so scared,” you joked back, before saying you pinky promised to pay and ‘be a good girl’.

Silence came between you once more, the whirring of the fridge now filling the air. Knowing he’d have to take his eyes from you eventually, Ju motioned towards the door and announced rather statically, “I guess I’ll go now and see if the party’s ruined.”

“Let me know how it goes!” You seemed genuinely interested. With the opportunity arising, he felt a bit of courage seep into his bones.

“How can I?”

Did that sound as smooth as I thought it did? What if she thinks I’m stupid or I’m coming onto her? Oh my god, look at the way she’s looking at me.

His mind really was working overtime.

Your smile was coy, hands coming together so your fingers entwined in front of your hips. With a shrug, you crooned, “if we just so happen to be here at the next black out…”

Pressing his luck, Juyeon asked, “and if I didn’t want to wait that long.”

Another grin, this time devilish, formed on your lips.

“Start one then. I’ll be here next Tuesday.”

From there, he had nothing more to say. Did it count as a date? Was he just going to see you in passing like this often? He didn’t have any answers, though he liked the idea very much. He’d give anything to spend more time with the stars and planets in your irises, the ones that swirled in colours light and deep, a universe that he wished he could explore all he wanted. It was a desire he knew he shouldn’t have. A part of him told him to stop thinking about you, but he knew he couldn’t. He’d seen you and now, he was hooked.

“Well, goodbye then, y/n.”

You walked with him to the front door, staying a few paces away. With a small wave, you sent him away. Just as the door opened, bell ringing and most definitely waking Moon Bin up, he heard your voice once more.

“Happy birthday, Lee Juyeon.”

He replayed the memory like it was a song whenever he could.

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thekrazykeke · 6 years

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I love this man. To be honest, I’ma hoe for all of them men in Black Panther, so it’s whatever. Every single one of them can get it, and I don’t even know who I want to take me first, Erik or T’Challa? ....Hm, both. Both is good. This chapter is potentially, likely, triggering for some people. Please read this with caution and know that my inbox and IM is always open, for anyone, at any time.

You’re not bothering me. Never think you are bothering me.

Continued from here, boo.

The minute the apartment door swung open, your eyes snap to Nadia’s face, and you see it, the bruise the size of a fist swelling up her right eye.

“Where is he?”

“Let’s talk inside.” Nadia’s hand on yours is firm as she tugged you in, using her hair to shield the bruise from view; the motion too familiar, practiced. The organ in your chest throbbed with pain and you think you’re about to have a panic attack or something.

"Where is that nigga, is he here?” Your hands clench then unclench, and you can’t focus on one thing, eyes darting around the room, categorizing how the living room is trashed; broken glass shards sprinkled everywhere, TV broken, a hole or two punched in the walls.

It’s a mess.

“Calm down, Y/N.” Nadia says, voice entirely too calm, nonchalant.

“Is. That. Nigga. Here?” You enunciate each word forcefully, eyes widened and crazed, angry.

“He not here. Simmer down already, shit.” Exhausted already by the conversation, she flopped down on the couch. “I called you because I needed your advice.”

“Waterboard that no good ass nigga.” You immediately suggest, taking a seat beside her.

“What, no. That’s,” she laughs, “That’s crazy. Y/N, stop it. Be serious.”

You aren’t laughing. “I’m deadass. I know somebody who know somebody. They’ll snatch that bitch nigga up off the street, rough his punk ass up, and--”

Nadia couldn’t listen anymore. “I’m the one who started it by spitting in his face!”

“...The fuck. Why would you do that?” Almost always joking, Nadia wasn’t somebody who deliberately provoked people, or at least, she didn’t start something she couldn’t slick-talk her way out of. “Spitting on people is nasty, yo.”

“He dared me to do it. And I was just...” Sighing explosively, she ran her fingers through her hair. “...I found a pregnancy test in the bathroom trash, and I know it ain’t yours. You barely here, for one, and I can’t see you or Erik being that careless.”

And you had an IUD, but still. Making a motion for her to continue, "So the muthafucka got his side bitch pregnant, and you got pissed.”

For the next half hour, you listen to her with a sympathetic ear as she told you that for a long time, things had been rocky between Travis and herself. He had not intentions of settling down -- with her, though he loved to lead her on with a carrot-stick maneuver and saying he might, he might, he might, while fucking around on her. He knew about the hookup she’d had with Erik and all the other times, with other people, while they’d been on a break. According to Nadia, the guy even made fun of her naivety in thinking he’d marry ‘a woman whose legs were always wide open’. The hypocritical dipshit.

That’s why she spat on him.

Couldn’t really blame her for that, not really.

“The girl he got pregnant, she’s only twenty one, Y/N. Twenty one...”, Shaking her head, Nadia laughed.

“Hey, hey, hey.” As tears stung her eyelashes and her voice wobbled, you reached out, pulling her towards you for a half hug. “It’s okay. Fuck that dude, aigh’t? I know people say it all the time, but you are going to find someone and be happy.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You are a phenomenal woman and someone is going to recognize you for your worth. Don’t let some idiot take that away from you. You hear me?” Hot tears warmed your shirt and you rocked her gently. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I promise.”

“I ain’t got nobody no more...”

“It’s okay...”

Honestly, after that whole experience, you were drained. The thought of going out and being sociable, it made the hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end. Nadia wasn’t hearing that though.

“B i t c h! This is an important milestone in your relationship. Meeting a family member?” Shaking her head, an ice pack over the swollen area, she gave you a thumbs up and painfully sincere smile, “Girl, if I was you, I wouldn’t have even brought my thick ass over here to deal with my bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit, Nadia.” You interjected, for the fiftieth time. “You my friend and you needed me. Case closed.”

“Whatever. I’m good. I’m gonna sit here and try and figure out who I can pay off to try and fix these damages before the landlord see this shit.” Tilting her head back, she sank more comfortably into the couch. “Forreal, you should go. See what’s good wit Erik and this mystery family member, actually find out what Erik does for a living. I’m betting it’s something physical. His arms hella strong.”

“Bitch.” You elbow her gently.

“What? I’ma single pringle now, so I can look,” Nadia said defensively. “It’s not like he would notice me anyway. The nigga got eyes for you only. It’s cute as fuck, keeping it one hunned.” Although you didn’t want to leave Nadia alone, she took your cellphone and texted Erik to come get you.

When he came to pick you up, she all but shoved you out the door.

“You still gon do this wit me, right? Meeting my cuz?” Erik could tell what was up immediately. “I can reschedule, it ain’t nothing.”

And he would, you realized, he cared for your personal comfort more than what his cousin would think. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, hands finding the nape of his neck, you tilt your head up and he took the hint, kissing you. “You don’t have to reschedule. So, where is this dinner taking place?”

Turns out that it’s the Queen’s Cove, the most expensive hotel in the area. Some of the most important political figures and celebrities stayed there. Fuck, even Obama and Michelle had spent two nights there! You were internally spazzing out, mind going one hundred miles an hour, wondering exactly who Erik’s cousin was, who Erik was--

‘I’ll find out tonight. To-night. OMG. That’s not enough time! Holy fucking shit! Oh. mah. Gawd. Chill, Y/N. Just. chill.’

Calling up every ounce of zen in your body that you had, you manage to smile at Erik who’s eyeing you warily, probably catching the goofy, weird expressions you’d made while wigging out.

"Clothes, we both need new clothes.” You say decisively.

“I don’t really--”

“Nigga, bring ya ass on!”

“Aigh’t already, damn!”

After an exhausting rest of the afternoon spent looking for the perfect outfit, Erik dropped you off at your favorite salon to get your hair and nails done. It was a last minute walk in appointment and Chantay wasn’t the happiest seeing you -- until she saw the amount of money you were paying her. While she worked her magic, you and Breanna texted back and forth, with y’all going through potential jobs and reasons for all this mystery and secrecy that Erik was doing.

Bre also promised that she would send Dre to put Travis in check asap. Then the topic changed once again when she sent you the link to an article about the Wakandan king, T’Challa.

Apparently he was slated for a press conference tomorrow morning?

‘She so dumb, but I love her silly ass.’ Smiling faintly, you replied that yes, the king was pretty fione, but he was a little too lean for your tastes. You ain’t want a man that didn’t know how to handle all your thickness. You cracked up laughing when she sent you a poop emoji, murmuring an apology when Chantay told you to keep still.

Once that appointment is concluded, the two of y’all took note of the limo waiting outside.

The. Limo.

GSLKDHFSKFLJSD!!!

“Y/N?” Neither of y’all utter a word. So he tries again, “Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you, ma’am?” The driver asked, professional and relaxed, unruffled, by the fact that he’s being gaped at.

“That’s me.” You reply weakly. He opened the door for you.

“I got the license plate number in case you go missing.” Chantay whispered out the corner of her mouth. Placing a hand over your heart, you throw up a peace sign and she waved, removing a cigarette from behind her ear and lit it.

Question after question flew through your brain. You wanted to touch everything but at the same time, it was important to show some class. He drops you off at the apartment where you quickly shower, moisturize, and change (Nadia is gone but where you don’t know and have no time to find out), and when you come back out, the few people lingering around eye you with appreciation, curiousity and lust.

The drive to the Queen’s Cove is completely silent but you don’t care. This feels like some straight up black Cinderella-out-the-hood type stuff.

The next time the car pulls to a stop and the door opens, it’s Erik who’s reaching a hand out to you. Without hesitation, you take his hand and he helps you out of the limo, appraising you with hungry eyes. Although your inner mantra is that you’re in public and this is indecent, especially for a place this fancy, you give him a once over too.

“Damn baby, you lookin’ like a whole snack.”

Cracking a smile, because regardless, Erik gon be Erik, you let him kiss the corner of your mouth, so close to your lips. “Mmhm, you look handsome too, baby. Let’s go meet your cousin.”

“You right, you right.” There’s a distracted air about him and he can’t stop looking at you.

Admittedly, that swells your ego. That floaty feeling carries you through what might have been an epic freak out and meltdown because again, there were celebrities and politicians milling about, everything looked expensive.

Fuck, even the air smelled rich!

The maitre d’ led y’all to a private booth/sitting area in the far back, not easily noticed by other people. And there, already seated... Is the King of Wakanda. T’Challa Udaku.

“Cousin! There’s bobotie on the menu!” Eyebrows raising, you glanced at Erik pointedly, but he merely pulled out the chair for you. The whole ass king, T’Challa, put down the menu only to smile at you brightly, “Oh! I am so rude. Hello. You are Erik’s woman, yes?”

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Your Highness.” You said primly, about to raise up and possibly mangle an attempt at a curtsey, but Erik’s hand on the nape of your neck keeps you seated, the gesture effortlessly casual, but intimate.

“Please, there are no need for titles. Did you not tell her that, cousin?” Erik sat down too. “...Oh, Bast, he did not tell you that.” T’Challa, the king of an African nation, frowned. “N’Jadaka...”

“N-who?” Your brows furrowed.

T’Challa sighed and Erik eyeballed him, expression annoyed. “Bruh, don’t come at me like that! What with yo bitch ass Council putting that gag order on a nigga, what could I tell her but the kiddy shit?”

“Um...” You try to speak up.

“The conference is tomorrow, cousin. You could have informed her at least two weeks in advance.”

“You think I’m slow or some shit? Like I can’t read, muthafucka? Of course I know it’s tomorrow! I brought her down her to meet yo cornball ass, but we can bounce if you gon be on some other--”

THUMP!

Slamming your fist into the table, ignoring the throbbing pain searing through the appendage, you glared at them both. “If both y’all grown ass men don’t start actin’ like y’all mofos got some sense and recognize we in public, right now...” You say through gritted teeth.

“Sorry, baby.” Erik mumbled.

“My apologies, Y/N.”

After that, the tension faded away. The dinner felt relaxed and normal, like you were eating out with ya man and another brother or something. During that dinner though, Erik explained that he was a prince, third in line for the throne to Wakanda. The two of them made some questionable quips and remarks that bordered on being too dark, and you were most certainly going to be talking to Erik about that later.

Erik, that wasn’t even his real name.

It’s N’Jadaka Udaku.

There’s something beautiful about the way the vowels rolled off your tongue and N’Jadaka, likes when you use it. Oh, yeah, he definitely liked the way you say his name, if his hand on your thigh underneath the table is any indication, the slow circles he’s rubbing into the satin smooth brown skin, teasing you.

“Hi! I’m Mitchell and this is Cassandra, and we--”

Oh. No.

It feels like the bottom of your stomach has fallen out. You are half afraid to even look up and see if they’re as close as you fear, but when you flick your eyes to the right, yes. Yes they are, right here.

Waiters.

Ha!

Right now, they’re pestering T’Challa, asking if he wants a refill of his drink, and you glance at ya man, trying to non-verbally signal to him that we had to get the fuck outta dodge before they noticed us. And either he was just horny or he got the message, probably the former, but he was about to get up when Cassandra turned and finally noticed us.

Shit!

“Y/N! Hi! Oh, goodness. This is such a coincidence, running into you and your beau again. I told Mitchell that I saw you at my other job and he didn’t believe me at all.”

Somehow, you manage to smile, “Such a...small world.”

There’s a pregnant pause. “Erik! Hi, hello!” Again, she offered her hand for a shake.

He ignored her outstretched hand. “This is a private dinner. Family only.”

Mitchell snorted, his handsome features twisting into a sneer. “Family? Y/N? No way. I grew up with the girl, that’s straight ghetto--”

Cassandra elbowed her hubby abruptly. “Honey.”

“Nah, let him finish his sentence.” Erik took a swallow of wine, finishing off the glass. “‘Straight ghetto’, what?”

“I was going to say that Y/N and her family are an...unscrupulous bunch.” Lying through his teeth, Mitchell plastered a smile onto his lips, though his eyes are bitter, cruel. Jealous. “It’s very unfit for her to be sitting next to, and dining with, royalty.”

T’Challa raised a finger, “Forgive me for sounding uncultured in this. English is not my first language and I have not been to America often,” It’s clear, if only to you and Erik, that he’s downplaying his own intellect, he’d talked circles around you about a lot of topics and explained things without making you feel stupid. “But I believe you are insulting not only myself, and by extension, all of Wakanda, you are also insulting my own cousin, a prince, and his choice of female companion? Y/N is quite a lovely and intelligent, funny, woman, after all.”

“I agree! I so agree!” Cassandra nodded her head vigorously. “Y/N and I, we were friends once upon a time ago in college.”

Unable to stand all this double talking and hypocrisy, your mouth opened, “Bitch, when?” You sounded so done at the moment. “Is it after you caught a case of jungle fever and decided that you were finished fucking Tim, who went on to become a famous country singer by the way, and chose this light bright nigga to be your Negro husband? I bet you were very disappointed that the rumor of all black men having big dicks isn’t true.”

Cassandra paled, standing there, gaping at you. Mitchell, however, absolutely exploded. “You ghetto ass dirty hoodrat bi--”

One right hook and an uppercut and Mitchell hit the floor with a pained grunt. Erik put his foot on his chest, keeping him in place. “I’m from Oakland, California, straight up out the hood, my nigga. Erik Stevens, ask about me.” Grinding his heel into his chest for a few more seconds, he stepped over him, “Let’s get the fuck up outta here.”

“Yoink.” You grab the bottle of wine, patting Cassandra’s shoulder ‘comfortingly’. “I’ll just take this for the road. Since we such good friends, you got me, right? Right. I’ll holla at you on Facebook, boo boo.” With a wave of your fingers, you accept Erik’s hand, smiling big and pretty, especially when he adjusted his grip so that his arm is around your waist, headed for the exit.

“Bill me for any damages, yes?” Smiling a camera ready smile, T’Challa dipped his head in farewell to Cassandra, accidentally stepping on Mitchell’s hand and followed after his wayward cousin and date.

Once y’all are outside, embarrassment overtakes you and you’re about to apologize to T’Challa but he only wagged a finger and smiled. “It was very good fun tonight. I almost thought you were too timid for my cousin but you have such a vibrant personality, Y/N.”

You look at the ground then away from him, unable to keep eye contact at the sincerity in his tone. “Careful, nigga, or you and me gon go round three for you flirting with my girl.” Erik joked, tilting your chin up a little to kiss your forehead.

T’Challa shook his head and chuckled, “Take care of each other and stay out of trouble, eh.”

Then y’all go y’all’s separate ways. Erik and you get in the limo, while a fierce, bald lady opens the door to a sleek sports car, and T’Challa gets in that. Both vehicles take off in opposite directions. You reach for Erik’s hand and he holds your hand in his lap, his thumb tracing circles around the pulse point, a pensive expression on his face. You want to know what’s up but you also are afraid to know what’s bothering him, secretly figuring that it’s you and the drama that follows you around like a bad smell.

When the limo drops y’all off at his crib, he immediately strips of the outfit, carelessly dropping the items of clothing onto the floor and elsewhere, motions agitated. You follow after him silently, carefully following his lead. The two of you shower together but he doesn’t touch you, or make any lewd comments. He gives you some clothes to sleep in and you think that y’all aren’t going to talk about the elephant in the room when he turns his back to you, and reluctantly, you turn so that you’re facing away from him too.

Only twenty minutes of this and you think you’re going crazy.

You’re about to get the fuck outta dodge when he speaks, “I need...I need to tell you somethin’.” Heart sinking in your chest, you try to turn around but he holds you in place, apparently not wanting you to look at him while he tells you...whatever he needs to tell you.

Pretty sure you were prepared for anything than what he told you about his life before he and you started sleeping together and became a couple. The uncensored version of who Erik Steven is...or rather, who he had been.

Killmonger.

All of it.

You’d like to think you were a tough as nails type of bitch, but that story had you crying hard as shit. Whether for N’Jobu, N’Jadaka, or T’Challa and his father. Or Erik’s victims...it’s a mystery.

You just hurt.

“I couldn’t...couldn’t keep hiding what I done. I mean, I could, but tonight, if anything, proved that all that shit tends to come out one way or the other. And I wanted you to hear it from me, not nobody else.” He swallowed. “I ain’t gon be mad or, or, stop you if you choose to leave me. I understand.”

The next time you attempted to turn around, he didn’t stop you. Legs on either side of his chest, hands resting on his abdomen, you stared down at him with red and puffy eyes. “If I got up right now to leave, would you choke me out, smack me, or shoot me in the head?”

He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly, eyes suspiciously bright, “No.”

“Do you have any plans to cheat on me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Couples fight, they argue. That shit is normal. I might get mad and say some hurtful things, or you might be the one to do all that. We might yell at each other. That is normal. What I won’t accept is being made into Boo-Boo the Fool when you get mad and feel you have to prove what a man you are, then cheat on me with another bitch.

I won’t be your punching bag or doormat. I am your woman, more than that, I’m somebody daughter, they sister.

I’ve got too much respect for myself to let any of that foolishness go on. I will drop yo ass wit the quickness and cross the street to avoid speaking to you for years, if necessary.” Pausing, you take a breath, letting your words sink in.

“Do you understand?”

Erik’s cautiously rests his hands on your hips. “I understand that, and I respect it. But I’m asking you to please, don’t throw that shit I told you in my face if you get mad. Ion care bout nun else but don’t do me dirty like that, Y/N. I’m tryin’ my best, baby girl.”

Baby girl. Oooh fuck, that nickname did things to you. You needed to get your hormones under control, bih, this is a serious moment! “’Kay.” You say, voice quiet, and you bite your bottom lip.

He seemed to sense the turn in your attitude because he soon leaned up and kissed you open mouthed and nasty, squeezing your ass cheeks, the boy shorts you wore offering little to no protection from Erik’s groping hands, “You gon let me fuck you now, ain’tchu, baby girl?”

Oh, this bastard. Moaning yessssss, you don’t resist when he yanks off the shirt you wore, accidentally tearing it a little before flinging it away, then yanked off the booty shorts, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his cock, teasing your wet pussy folds before pushing in alllll the way inside you.

“You mines, you my baby girl, you gon stay wit me.” The words are quietly delivered every time he fucks up into you, and your eyes screw shut, breaths coming quick. “Say it.” A particularly hard roll of his hips punches the breath out of you, “I can stay like this all night.”

And you know he can, he would, tease you, the both of you, until he gets what he wants. “I’m yours, your baby g-girl,” Erik sucked at your throat, intent on leaving a hickie. “I’m not gon leave you.”

It’s like your words flipped a switch or something because he’s switching positions so that you’re beneath him and he’s fucking you nice and slow. Then again, this doesn’t really feel like fucking. It’s not rough or quick, with spankings or some choking. Whatever it is, it’s intense, and the way he’s looking at you, the way he kisses your shoulder, murmuring how good your pussy feels, and other sweet, perverse things, eventually sends you over the edge. You don’t deny it when he mutters, “You my baby girl...” Right in your ear just before he pushes inside you as far as he can go, filling you with his cum.

After all, it’s not like he’s wrong; you are his.

#mcu #erik killmonger #mcu imagine #erik killmonger imagine #black reader #black panther #marvel #black panther imagine #marvel imagine #erik killmonger x reader #thekrazykeke

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