Killmonger One Shots

And... Scene!

"You're needed on set in 30. I'll be back to walk you over," Yolanda knocked on Lauryn's door twice before going off to do one of her hundred other jobs. She was one of many people with a clipboard on set and she liked her, but was happy to see the back of her head.

Alone, at last, Lauryn carefully undid what pieces of her costume she was comfortable reassembling herself and then slumped onto the built-in couch. The best thing about working these period movies were the costumes. They could be over the top and downright uncomfortable, but Lauryn liked the way she looked in a gown. Especially this gown.

Lace and gold silk made her brown skin glow under the bright, warm lights on set. Michelle and Lauryn poured over magazines and studied patterns of this gown for months. Finally, creating the beauty Lauryn was now trying to eat in without staining. She got a bit of rice and a sip of water down before a knock on the door interrupted her meal.

Knowing how thin the walls of the trailer were, Lauryn tried not to groan. But c'mon! She'd just sat down!

Knowing she'd need help to get up, Lauryn called out, "It's open!" Then she tucked into her meal to get as much food in her mouth before the other person came in.

"Hey, chipmunk. See you livin' up to your name in here." Erik Stevens, Lauryn's costar and love interest, let himself into her trailer and made himself at home.

He sat on the built-in couch across from her and spread his legs wide. Drawing her attention to his muscular stocking covered calves. Which just made her stare at his powerful thighs hidden in his breeches. God definitely took her time with this one.

Even dressed as landed gentry couldn't take the hood nigga out of Erik. He was still in hair and makeup, his beloved locs hidden under a kinky textured wig styled to match the era. But the way he carried himself was less Mr. Darcy and closer to the military swagger he naturally exuded.

Lauryn knew he'd served from their late night heart to hearts during rehearsals. But she could tell he had some kind of training from his posture. As a dancer, she knew how hard it was to drop old habits like that.

"I thwot 'ou 'ere he diwector," Lauryn spoke around a mouthful of food without thinking.

"I'm sorry what?" Erik's face scrunched up, and he leaned forward in his seat. "Come again!"

Lauryn laughed and threw a napkin at him. Swallowing, she said, "I thought you were the director or something. The man has a second sense for when I'm eating."

Erik's amused expression furrowed with concern. "He still pressuring you about the weight thing?" His body language shifted just as quickly, his posture going from relaxed to tense at the mere mention of Lauryn losing weight.

The director, a roach who doesn't deserve a name, hadn't wanted to hire Lauryn as his Elizabeth. Too bad for him. She had a five-movie contract with the production company and the producers love her. Ever since she got the job over the twenty-something his sixty-year-old ass had been fucking, he'd found little ways to get under her skin and make production hell.

He told the costume department to take her dress in until it forced her to lose weight to fit them.

Luckily, Michelle had her back. And the director knew fuck all about clothing construction. When that didn't work, he made her shoot most of her scenes super early. Or he'd run shoots really late cause fuck the production budget, right? It was petty. Lauryn delt with it gracefully.

Erik was not dealing with it gracefully. There's already been buzz in the tabloids about their blowup a month ago. The director shot the proposal scene almost 50 times in the rain. Lauryn got sick and set the shoot back, something the director brought up for ages. Erik snapped on the director in front of fans watching nearby and the press had it later that afternoon.

The last she wanted was for Erik to storm across the lot and start something else.

"No, big brother." Lauryn teased, "What you come over here for, anyway? Shouldn't you be off being all rich and brooding somewhere?"

"Haha, you're so fuckin' funny," Erik deadpanned. "I came over here because we're supposed to shoot one of the last scenes later this week. I wanted to go over our dialogue again."

Lauryn nodded as he spoke, still eating but trying to be attentive. Working with Erik was a lot like this. The man memorized his lines before the first table read and then wowed them all on set every day. Men like Erik were built for the screen. From their handsome faces to their ability to draw your attention with only the inflection in their voice or a twinkle in their eye. Over the course of the shoot, Lauryn had to remind herself repeatedly that Erik was Erik and Darcy was Darcy.

But sometimes the lines crossed and blurred and Lauryn didn't know if she was Lizzie or Lauryn while with him.

They had little time, but she quickly finished her food and then retrieved her script. The scene Erik wanted to go over was in the very back and had been one of her favorite parts of the film.

"Okay, I'll lead you in and work off what you give back. Good?" Erik prompted once they'd settled with their scripts on the same couch. Lauryn nodded distractedly, her mind focused on guiding a bit of rice from between her gums.

Erik's hood accent became a memory, and a posh British trill took its place. His words were short, the way Darcy talked, but the layer of warmth for Lizzie shone through. When Erik met her eyes, Lauryn reminded herself he was Darcy. When he touched her hand or caressed her cheek, she thought of how they'd shoot that on camera without him blocking her face. It was all she could focus on as goosebumps raised on her skin and a shiver went down her spine.

By the time it was Lauryn's turn to speak, she'd forgotten half her lines.

The kissing scene loomed over them with every line traded back and forth, every page turned.

Butterflies turned to angry bees in Lauryn's stomach as finally Erik said the ending line.

"You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love... I love... I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on."

Then they kiss.

It's supposed to be Darcy and Lizzie. Their kiss should be a quick peck since there aren't any cameras around. It's supposed to be everything but Lauryn, cupping Erik's smooth cheeks in her hands and losing herself in the plump pillows of his lips. Every movement and slick slide of his tongue leaves her shaking, gasping, and weak in the knees.

When they part, Lauryn needs a moment to recover, a fact that makes Erik laugh.

"So," he asks, as if his hand isn't warm against her cheek and her lips aren't still tingling from their kiss.

Lauryn blinks to collect herself and refocuses on Erik. "I think..." she has to swallow to clear her throat. "I think we should..."

A corner of Erik's lips turns up, and he dimples at her. "You wanna kiss me?"

Snorting, Lauryn tries to pull out of the warmth of his body and act cool. "That was Darcy kissing Lizzie, not Lauryn kissing The Second Sexiest Man Alive 2020."

Erik groaned and dropped his head back against the couch. "Please, don't bring that shit up again!"

"Why? You mad you lost to Timothee Chalamet?"

Smacking her with his script, Erik adjusts his posture and pretends to read. "Let's take it from the top. We still got ten minutes of your lunch left."

Lauryn groaned, but there wasn't any heart in it. She was all too happy to help Erik with this particular scene again. And if they needed to do 50 takes in the rain, then so be it.