Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
So this is my first time ever writing fanfiction!! I’m a little bit nervous because in this fandom, whew chillay.....y’all are some muthafuckin’ WRITERS, hunny. “Talent all up & thru this bitch.” lmao I hope mine is decent enough for y’all tho.
But anyways, here goes...something lol.
Pairing: Erik “Killmonger” Stevens x Black, Dark-Skin, Plus Size OC. (Always💛)
Summary: Erik begrudgingly attends a benefit gala. He prepares himself for a wack ass night, only to be met with a quite, scrumptious surprise. 😉
Word Count: Somewhere around 1400, 1500.
Warnings: Cussing. Use of the N-word. Dragging white people. T’Challa on his bullshit lol. But mostly fluffy and cute.
A/N: In my mind, I want this to be a series but I’m not sure how to make it work yet. If not, than I guess a cute little one-shot? Idk, If y’all like it enough, I’ll try for a part 2 at very least. Also, I wrote this on my phone at like 3 AM so please excuse any mistakes or typos. 😝
“Dedicated to my new found love for hot wings.”
——
“Welcome ALL to Wakanda Outreach Center’s Annual Benefit Gala”
Erik snorted as he read the overzealous banner. He hated these kind of events. The only reason he even bothered to show up was because he lost a bet to his cousin. Nigga prolly cheated, he thought to himself.
Erik N’Jadaka Udaku-Stevens wasn’t one to be presurred into obligation. So when King T’Challa tried to convince him to support the Wakanda Outreach Center at their annual gala, Erik literally laughed in his face.
—
“Hell nah, nigga. I don’t go to these things for a reason. My energy is better used towards actually doing work for the community. Not rubbin’ elbows with a bunch of uppity negroes and cracka ass crackers.” Erik snapped, twisting his lips and being extra as hell.
Princess Shuri giggled. She (not-so) secretly loved when her cousin went off on one of his colonizer-dragging rants.
“N’Jadaka, we talked about calling them that.” T’Challa shot Shuri a stern look while crossing his hands behind his back. “And, it IS for the good of the community. Engagement with everyone, including other races, is necessary to keep things civil. How would it look if our own Director didn’t show up to support?”
“It’ll look like exactly what it is,” Erik said, crossing his arms across his chest. “A bourgie ass event with bourgie ass people, throwing around bourgie ass rhetoric about shit they don’t know a damn thing about. I’m good, love...”
“...enjoy!” Shuri blurted out in her Keke Palmer voice, cackling with Erik at T’Challa’s frustration.
T’Challa pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He was completely over Erik and his shenanigans. Quickly, he perked his head up and rolled his shoulders back. He had the perfect Plan B. “How about we make this a wager, hmm? If I win, you attend the gala. If you win, I won’t bring it up again,” He teased with a sly smirk, knowing his competitive cousin all too well.
Erik paused.
Shuri turned on her Kimoyo beads.
“Bet. You won’t be smiling when I beat that ass, tho.”
“Oh it is on, cousin.”
“Say less, cousin. Throw them hands up.”
“On scissors.”
“No nigga. It’s on shoot. Tryna best me when you don’t even know how to play? Tuh! Have fun at that punk ass gala, boi!”
—
And there he was. In a stuffy ass suit watching his corny ass cousin fake laugh with rich white folks for donor money that they didn’t even need.
“Fuck rock, paper, scissors,” Erik murmured to himself, shifting uncomfortably against the wall.
T’Challa peaked over at Erik, watching him sneer at another group of white folks who almost ran into him.
“Excuse you. Damn,” Erik nostrils flared. “I know y’all can see my big ass standing here.” T’Challa appeared, placing his hand on Erik’s shoulder to stop him before he lit into they asses. “Relax, N’Jadaka. This is supposed to be a fun night.”
“Fun, my ass,” Erik growled lowly. “This shit is wack. Even the food is trash. I mean, what the fuck is liver pâté on cucumber toast? All the Black people you know and you couldn’t get some decent food? No chicken? Shit, some Jollof rice would suffice,” He bellowed, rubbing his grumbling stomach.
“Nakia was in charge of the food. She likes to...experiment,” T’Challa chuckled. “One time she tried to get our chef to make these Chinese style pork buns. Which was comical because his only Asian specialities are Japanese cuisine and—.”
“Yeah, I don’t care,” Erik huffed dryly. “I’mma go see if they got some real food around here. I’m starving.” Erik rolled his eyes as he stomped away, leaving T’Challa standing there with the oop face.
“He on my last nerve, I swear,” Erik spat to himself.
He shuffled past a crowd of people mingling in the gala hall, before bursting through the kitchen door. “Hey, y’all got anything else back here? Shit, at this point I’ll settle for a grilled cheese sandw...” Erik stopped mid-sentence, completely taken back by the sight before him.
A woman seated in a tall stool at one of the islands was expertly downing a plate of hot wings, not getting a speck on her crisp white, off-the-shoulder gown. Erik watched her do a little happy dance as she cleaned every bit of meat and gristle off the bone. She popped a mocha colored finger in her mouth, sucking off left over sauce as she turned towards the direction of the eyes she felt gazing into her side.
“Oh, my bad,” Erik said, realizing he was staring at her a little too hard. “I was just looking for something to eat. But I see you beat me to it.” He smirked, while rubbing his hand nervously over his neatly braided dreads.
The woman let out a short laugh. “Did you see what they’re serving out there? Might as well put up a sign that says. ‘Don’t eat if you have tastebuds.’ You would think with Black people in charge, at least the food would be good.”
Erik smiled, letting his dimples peak out for the first time all night, “I’m saying, tho.”
“Here,” She exclaimed as she pulled up a stool next to her. “They’ll make just about anything you ask for. But I suggest the wings. They’re bomb.
“Mhmm,” Erik said as he took the seat & looked her over. He motioned towards the chef. “I’ll have what she’s got.”
As the chef prepared his food, Erik surprisingly found himself in deep conversation with the eccentric woman. Mostly about random things like where to get the best wings in Oakland & why white folks don’t season their food. Still, he was memorized by how laid back and real she seemed to be. Something he didn’t expect to find at a uptight, bourgie ass gala.
“Daamnn. You cleaned those bones like the chicken’s going somewhere,” she teased.
“Says the woman elbow deep in buffalo sauce,” Erik shot back jokingly, eying her as he finished off his last wing.
“Pffhtt...whatever! You wouldn’t even have known to get the wings if I wasn’t here. You should be thanking me,” She huffed, folding her arms across her chest.
Erik laughed and rolled his eyes, dramatically sucking the chicken bone in his hand while leaning in her direction.
She swatted at him playfully before checking the clock on the wall.” Oh shit, I gotta get back out there.”
She wiped her hands, before standing to smooth her gown. “Do me a favor and check my dress? Last thing I want is to be thinking I’m cute but I’m actually covered in chicken stains,” She said with a chuckle, slowly turning in front of Erik.
“Sure.” Erik said lowly before clearing his throat. He took in her frame, admiring her glowing dark skin and the way the gown hugged her fluffy tummy.
“You good.” He said, forcing his eyes to hers before they got lost in between her thighs.
She kissed her teeth and shot him a bright smile, “Thanks. Well, this was fun. Um...?”
“Oh, uh..Erik,” he replied, smiling back. “And yea it was...fun. Um...?”
She giggled. “Janessa.”
And with that, she sashayed out the double kitchen doors and into the crowded gala hall.
Erik sat back with one arm slinged over the back of his chair, juggling a toothpick in his teeth as he rubbed his now satisfied belly.
He would definitely see her again.
——
I hope y’all enjoyed! (lmao I’m so corny but Keke cracks me up🤣)
Horror Pain Gore Death Productions will be releasing a 20 band compilation in conjunction with their next wrasslin event, Ruthless Pro Wrestling (RPW). King Of The Kill 3 will be out on August 23rd.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
