Sweet Peach Jones

Bruno Mars: *releases another 80s/90s sounding bop* 

Everyone:

A little college Hennessy and Erik foolishness concocted by @hearteyes-for-killmonger & myself. Based on the following prompt:

Friday. The day Hennessy had been looking forward to the whole week. Erik would be home from his most recent deployment the next day and she needed to prepare for his return. She went and got her hair done, opting for a silk press to her usually springy curls. She followed that up with a well deserved pedicure and a full-set of stiletto dick grabbers, both in his favorite color on her: sunflower yellow. She was now perusing the shelves of MAC, looking to restock her dwindling supply of Snob and Saint Germain lippies and her prep + prime lip primer. The freshly cleaned diamonds in the Cuban link necklace Erik gifted her twinkled under the light of the store, attracting the attention of the young woman working. She was about 5’9, 150 pounds wet with what looked to be a 24-inch body wave weave with a lifting frontal and lipstick that clashed with her undertones. Cute, but not Hennessy. She looked Henny up and down with familiarity before her eyes finally landed on the letter E tattoo that rested on her collarbone.

“Oh, you must be the new freak of the week?”

“Excuse me?” Hennessy asked with a raised eyebrow. Erik was popular, so it was no surprise that the whole state of Massachusetts knew that he was officially off the market.

“I know that Cuban, he gave me one like it when we were fucking around. Erik?”

“Who are you?” The name tag on her chest read Brittani, but it should’ve said Bold Bitch, seeing as how she was questioning Henny like she was Erik’s mother.

“I’m Brittani. Erik and I fucked around on the regular up until about a year ago.”

Hennessy smiled as Brittani spoke, remembering the day that he stumbled on her doorstep.

“And you still on him? Baby, move on.” This caused Brittani to give her the most menacing look.

“Funny, you’re bigger than his usual type.”

Oh, you one of them bitches. Salty as the everlasting fuck that a thicc bitch took the nigga you wanted.

“Any particular reason why you’re divulging this information? I’m just tryna buy some lipstick not hear your dating history.”

Brittani smirked, snatching the items from Hennessy’s hands and ringing them up aggressively.

“History tends to repeat itself. I could take your man. Easily! Look at me and look at you.”

Hennessy laughed loudly then, completely disregarding the Great Value Cyn Santana. Having been officially dating the soon-to-be King of Wakanda for a year now, she was used to slimmer, Instagram-esque women feeling loose at the lips when it came to her boyfriend. At face value, Erik was the total package. He was incredibly smart, handsome, and his sex could convert even the most devout nun. But the real Erik, the fragile lost boy who had discovered his father’s lifeless body when he was only a young boy, that was a completely different story. The real Erik was moody, mean, and when he was in Killmonger-mode, a vengeful shell of a man that cared about nobody else’s feelings but his own. It had taken some time, but Hennessy had skillfully and meticulously broken down some of the rougher areas of his psyche and had learned things about him that no one else would dream of knowing. In him, she’d found a kindred spirit. A twin flame. They had bonded over their love for marijuana and their need to escape the realities of their tragic childhoods. She’d seen him at his weakest, his ugliest, and his most tragic. They’d butt heads and found homeostasis more times in a month than most couples even saw each other. She knew no one else could handle the man she called hers and she’d be lying if she said the idea of someone trying was not comical.

“I’ll tell you what. You can have him, but I guarantee after 24 hours you’ll give him back.”

“Shiiid. I know what that dick is like and I swore that if I ever got it again, I’d never let him go.”

Hennessy laughed harder as the young woman slid the bag of purchased items across the counter.

“I’ll give you 24 hours. Any longer and you’re stuck with him.”

“Deal.”

——————————————-

“You really out here tryna pimp a nigga, huh?” Erik asked from his place between Hennessy’s legs. After having successfully broken her back on every surface of their shared apartment since he stepped foot in the door the previous day, Erik was now lazily resting on Hennessy’s belly while she massaged through his dreads. He had missed the way her plush body melted into his, much like the memory foam mattress they were currently lounging on. He loved the way their bodies fit together, like Bast had created her just for him. She was his personal Sour Patch kid, sweet and sour depending on her mood, but always soft.

“It’s only pimping if we’re getting paid. Lil’ Mama said she could take you from me, so I told her she could have you. You and I both know you’ll be back.”

“You damn right. You’re my favorite brown liquor and plus, I can’t leave my Creole lady for too long. What you gonna do while I’m gone?”

Um, party? She thought to herself.

“Relax,” she said instead. Though there were experiments that needed to be done, she was going to use the day for some much needed self-care. Her hair had long since sweated out from its silky state, so she planned to wash and twist it, exfoliate and shave, and binge watch all the shows she’d missed during the week.

“You relaxed while I was gone, ma,” he pouted as he snuggled closer to her.

“No, I worked while you were gone. You know I have to keep busy so I don’t miss ya fat head ass so much.”

“You love my fat head though, boffum,” he teased as he ran his fingertips up her thighs.

“You’re disgusting,” she sneered.

“Filthy,” he called back, dipping his fingers between her thighs, drawing a soft mewl from her.

“Again?” she pouted.

“I missed my baby,” he growled before his tongue met her folds.

Here we go again.

—————————————–

Erik watched Brittani’s back, unimpressed by her lack of food and general unpreparedness. Hadn’t she heard that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach? She sat a bowl in front of him and stuck a spoon in it like she was done.

“Bruh. What the fuck is this? I asked for shrimp and grits, not oatmeal,” Killmonger fussed from his seat at Brittani’s counter. He had been in one of his moods ever since he came over, mentally noting to curse his girlfriend out for subjecting him to such torture, and now she was trying to kill him. Immediately he began to remember why he cut Brittani off in the first place. She was cute, but that was all she had going for herself. She couldn’t cook, she wouldn’t clean, and she was always in his business and trying to go through his phone. If she wasn’t trying to force herself onto his dick then she was whining about wanting him to take her shopping and show her off, though she wasn’t much of a trophy. She couldn’t even keep her wig under control. He could see the screen door material sitting on top of her forehead. Henny always put makeup on hers. He could see her in the mirror now, doing that goofy ass dance she did whenever she got a new wig, patting and parting to make sure it looked good. He looked down at his watch. 16 more hours to go. This was finna be a long day.

“That is shrimp and grits, babe. I followed the recipe and everything.” Hennessy didn’t need a recipe.

“My name is Erik,” he reminded her as he tried to lift the spoon from the bowl. “Call me babe again and I’ll slit ya throat,” he threatened, mostly serious. “Why the grits so thick? Did you devein the shrimp? Is this a shell?!” His appetite quickly diminished when he spotted a creature the size of his thumb crawl across the stovetop.

“SHIT…. I’m going to the gym,” he snarled dusting himself, suddenly paranoid.

You love me especially gentle every time // You keep me on my feet happily excited // By your cologne, your hands, your smile, your intelligence // You woo me, you court me, you tease me, you please me // You school me, give me some things to think about // Ignite me, you invite me, you co-write me, you love me, you like me // You incite me to chorus, ooh

Back at their apartment, Henny was soaking in a vanilla lavender bath while her curls deep conditioned under her large pink bonnet. Jill Scott serenaded her while the warm water soothed her aching muscles, an indication of the previous night’s activities. Her music was interrupted by her ringtone.

“Miss me already, Daddy?” she teased, putting the phone on speaker so she could finish her bath.

“This bitch got bugs bigger than me crawling around her shit. Them bitches benching 350. I’m not sleeping there tonight for them niggas to jump me in my sleep.. and I’ma beat ya ass when I get home,” he fussed, still dusting himself occasionally as he drove.

“Aww, baby it can’t be that bad,” Hennessy tried.

“She needed a recipe for shrimp and grits. Who the fuck needs a recipe for shrimp and grits?! It’s in the fuckin’ title! Damn shrimp still had shells on ‘em, the grits was hard as a fuckin’ brick… it was just a mess. Then Craig the Cockroach or whatever the fuck it was came crawling across the stove like he was lookin’ for a plate too. I had to go.”

Hennessy was a giggling mess as Erik explained his morning ordeal.

“Didn’t y’all use to fuck around? You ain’t know she had roaches?”

“I used to fuck that bitch in her driveway cuz she lived with her mama. I had no idea what the inside of that place looked like.”

“You was a dirty dick ass nigga, huh? Just sticking it in anything warm.”

“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, I’m aware of the error of my past judgement, but this is NOT the time to be making jokes. I’m distraught and you laughing. If I die in there, it’s your fault.”

“I mean, according to ya military paperwork I’m ya wife, so I’ll get a nice check.”

“Wooooooow, it really be ya own people. Just for that I’m going in ya ass with no lube tomorrow.”

“Wait, I take it back. I’m sorry. If you wanna come back sooner, handle her. Make it so she knows you’re mine or help her move on. One or the other.”

“BET.” With that, the line went dead and Hennessy already knew which option he chose. She had basically given Killmonger permission to hurt this young lady’s feelings, and boy did he intend to do just that.

—————————————–

Hennessy was mid happy baby pose when her phone rang again, this time with an unfamiliar number. She cleared her throat and pulled out the French, just in case it was a bill collector or one of Erik’s more shady acquaintances.

“Bonjour, Aurélie.” She was met with the sound of soft sniffles, followed by her boyfriend’s voice roaring in the background.

“The fuck you crying for? You knew what that shit looked like when you woke up this morning. Didn’t even try to run a brush through it. That ain’t what Beyoncé meant when she said she woke up like this.”

“Please come get this nigga,” Brittani said between sniffles. She had had it. Ever since Erik had returned from the gym he had been tearing into her. Hennessy knew it would happen and she almost felt bad for releasing the beast. Almost.

“I would’ve kissed you good morning just to be nice but I went through your bathroom cabinets and you ain’t got no mouthwash. Your toothbrush look like it was originally owned by George Washington and your breath smells like halitosis personified. And don’t get me started on Craig the Cockroach. That nigga probably twerked his ass all over your lips and your tongue the way you were snoring. Why you sleep with your mouth open when you got roaches?”

“That’s actually a valid question. That can’t be healthy,” Henny finally spoke up.

“That nigga Craig pay rent or is he like Bruhman from the fif flo? This his house, huh? You just his pet human.”

“Nigga!” Hennessy exclaimed through the phone. She had been successful at keeping her laughs at bay, but was done when he called her the roach’s pet human.

“I can’t do this anymore, you can have him back.”

“It’s only been 9 hours, sis. I thought you said you’d never let that dick go.”

"So now you don’t wanna be with me because I’m telling yo triflin’ ass the truth? And who said she was getting dick?! Nah, you ain’t about to put no voodoo curses on me for sticking my dick in the Men In Black bug. I try to bust a nut and my shit just fall off. Hell nah.”

“Just get ya shit and go, nigga. Shamu can have you.” Time seemed to stop once those words left her lips. Even Craig the Cockroach disappeared. It was one thing to disrespect him, but his woman? All bets were off when it came to her and Brittani was about to learn this the hard way. With deadly stealth Erik zipped from across the room to right in front of her face. He wiggled the phone from Brittani’s grasp and ended the call before putting his face as close to hers as his nostrils would allow.

"You fix them crusty lips to call my woman Shamu one more time.. and I’ll throw you in the ocean with Bruhman chained to your ankle like a weight.” Brittani remained silent, only nodding her head fervently when he was done.

“Nah, you know what? That’s not good enough. Call my girl back. Yeah, call her.”

“Yeeesss?” Hennessy sang from the other end of the phone.

“The bit-, I mean Brittani got something to say to you. Go ‘head.”

Brittani hesitated, Erik’s eyes giving her the option to cooperate or face consequences. He’d taken pictures of her dirty stove capturing a roach on the move and was threatening to post it on a MAC forum along with a short video of her asleep with a roach on her forehead. She decided it would be best for her to cooperate and cut her losses.

“Hi, Hennessy. I’m sorry for what I said to you and you were right, I couldn’t handle him. I guess..,” she wavered briefly, “I guess you’re a better woman than me all-around. I could never. I see that now.”

Erik cleared his throat quietly.

“Oh, a-and you’re very beautiful, very statuesque and curvaceous. I wish I looked like you–”

“You don’t have to lie, now, sweetheart. You don’t wish you looked like me, you’re only saying that because you’re afraid of what he’ll do to you if I give the word. However, let this be a lesson to you. Just because you think you’re better than someone, that may not always be the case. Even if this little experiment had been his own choice, he’d still come back to me because he knows that no woman will ever treat him the way that I do. I’m one in a million and he’d be stupid to let me go.”

“So I can come home now?”

“Of course you can, Daddy. I got homemade crab cakes and lobster man n cheese waiting for you as well as two freshly pearled blunts of some new shit. I even felt generous and made a bananas foster cheesecake.” Erik’s mouth watered when she mentioned the dessert he fell in love with when they visited her parents the previous summer.

“A nigga need a bath, a nap, and a backrub. I ain’t get no sleep. I had one eye open all night.”

“You can have whatever you like, baby. My schedule is clear for the next week.”

“Shiiiit, I’m on my way.. And be naked when I get there.”

Horny ass nigga.

“Take notes,” he said to Brittani as he hung up. “And tell my nigga Craig he can have them clothes. I ain’t tryna bring none of y’all kids home.”

Girl on video: this is the easiest way