anime-kia - Tumblr blog

anime-kia · 10 months

Text

Mother’s Day?

Lmao sorry, another Dadmonger story.

I couldn't come up with a unique Mother's Day special with the reader celebrating so I used this plot instead.

Mentions of infertility, otherwise, no warnings.

Enjoy!

Relationship: Single Father Erik x Dance Teacher Reader

Erik always loved when his daughter came to visit on the weekends. Despite having to deal with her irritating mother whom he should've left years ago, Aaliyah always brought joy to his usually busy and hectic life.

He was quite surprised when his arrogant, loud-mouthed baby mother was knocking on his door at seven in the morning, calling his name like Sabrina from Madea's Big Happy Family 2.

It didn't irritate him that she was at his door so early, seeing as he was already up since five, working out. But it was Mother's Day today and there was no reason for her to be disrupting his peace.

As soon as the door creaked open, the eight-year-old was already in his arms.

"Hi, daddy!" She gave him a tight hug, the patterned beads on the ends of her hair bounced off his cheek as they made contact.

"Hey, princess." He lifted Aaliyah and gave her a kiss on her cheek above the dimple that matched his. "Go on inside, I'll be there in a second." He said after setting her down.

When Aaliyah was inside, he stepped out and closed the door leaving a small crack.

"Brianna." He simply said with a distasteful look on his face.

"What? You looking like it ain't your turn to spend time with her."

His eyes narrowed, "It's Mother's Day though."

"And?" She shrugged her shoulders and copied his stare, "It's your weekend with her. I got shit to do."

Erik almost laughed, not at her but at himself. This is the bitch that I got pregnant?

"What's so funny?" She asked, resting her hand on her hip. Her nails caught his attention, ridiculously long, pointy and bright. Now that he took a better look at her, he could see and assume the exact reason why she had the nerve to pull something like this.

"Nothing, except you tryna go out and be the thot that you is instead of spending time with your daughter. You ain't send her to one of ya little family members cuz they would've clocked your ass for pulling this stunt." Erik ridiculed her, and every factual statement he said had her eyebrows furrowing and fists clenching harder.

"Fuck you, Erik!" She yelled, pointing her index finger to his face. "You the last person to be judging me."

"Nah, fuck you for being an ain't shit ass mother." With that, he went back inside and locked the door in her face. There was a thump against the door, followed by the sound of her flip flops going down the porch. He sighed and went to go look for Aaliyah.

Erik tried to keep arguing and fights to a minimal whenever Aaliyah was around. It was quite difficult considering her mother was an obnoxious loud mouth who had no class or shame.

Aaliyah knew they didn't get along, in fact even she didn't get along with her mom that well. Brianna was one of those people who shouldn't have kids, but still has them anyway. They didn't really share a mother-daughter bond at all, Aaliyah would get that from other women in her life. Brianna would rather spend time partying, drinking, hooking up, and other stuff that she should've put to rest after she became a mother.

The only reason he wasn't able to take full custody over his daughter was because the judge was quite biased against the infamous ex-Killmonger and there was no way a man like that could raise a child in love. Of course it did take a while for him to recover, thanks to his family in Wakanda, but he was one hundred percent a stable man. Also, he was way more capable to care for his daughter than Brianna ever could.

For one, Erik lived in luxury. He lived in a better house, drove a nicer car, ate tastier foods, and resided in a safer neighbourhood. In fact, he paid for all of Aaliyah's necessities even at Brianna's request. Her clothes, shoes, school supplies and extra curricular activities like dance and swimming.

Brianna on the other hand moved around a lot, couch-surfing, she didn't drive, McDonald's was often her first choice of meal, and she spent a lot more money on her appearance and other things that should come last versus taking care of her basic needs.

But in the court house, she used her mother's living as a cover up for her own. Decent house, fair neighbourhood, working, stable.

He recalls how furious he was when the judge denied him the rights to his child. He knew that Brianna only did this to spite him and also for her own personal financial benefit. Child support was expensive.

"Aaliy-" He walked into the living room to find her curled up in a throw blanket on the sectional sofa, fast asleep. Her overnight bag was resting on the floor. He let her sleep, seeing as it was still very early.

Usually, she would be dropped off on a Friday night and they would wake up around ten or eleven the following day. On Sundays, they would wake up even later around twelve.

Erik spent the rest of the morning in his gym, finishing off his workout that was interrupted. He liked to play music that was loud enough to vibrate the walls, but his baby girl was asleep so he opted to keep it relatively low.

An hour went by and Erik finished his workout. He took a hot steaming shower that fogged up the entire bathroom, then moisturized and got dressed into a white t-shirt, light grey Jordan sweater and black basketball shorts. It was a habit to wear his gold chain that was tucked behind the hoodie.

More time had passed and breakfast was served, eggs and pancakes. Aaliyah was up and ready, climbing onto the bar stool. He slid her plate towards her, along with the maple syrup bottle.

"That's that real maple syrup. Not the sugary shit ya mama feeds you." He watched as she examined the glass bottle. "But be careful not to drop it, aight?"

"Okay, daddy." She twisted the cap off and used her two small hands to drizzle the syrup onto her pancakes. She ended up drowning them and part of the scrambled eggs, but she liked it that way.

Weird. Erik thought. He took a seat beside her and poured the syrup onto his pancakes. "So what we got planned for today?"

Aaliyah's bright face toned down, and her chewing slowed. "Well..." He waited for her response as she swallowed. "Mama was supposed to come to ballet with me. My teacher said bring your mommies for the Mother's Day dance class!" Her fist rested under her chin, "But she isn't here."

He stared at his daughter, reminiscing on the feeling. Erik knew exactly what it was like to not have someone there with him. All the basketball tournaments, school events, and graduation ceremonies. It was no one except him and if he was lucky, maybe one of his foster parents would attend, but that was as rare as a blue moon.

"I uh... I'll take you." He hesitantly said.

"But you always take me, daddy." She didn't understand what he meant, seeing as her classes took place on the weekends so Erik always dropped her off anyway.

"Nah, Li. I mean I'll join the class with you. Only for today." He put his pride behind him today, only for his daughter though. As long as his friends and family didn't see this, everything would be alright.

She started cracking up at Erik's offer, throwing her head back in amusement. "But you're a boy, not a girl!"

"I'm a man, actually. And so what, you got the coolest dad. We gon' have more fun than the rest of 'em." He smiled at his daughter's enjoyment. The two finished their meals and got ready to head out.

On the ride there, Aaliyah couldn't stop sharing her excitement. She often spoke about her dance teacher and how much she loved her.

"She's so pretty, and so nice! And she dances so good! I wanna be like her when I grow up!"

Aaliyah would always talk about her teacher with Erik. The one time she tried to talk to Brianna about her, that resulted in Brianna cursing the teacher off and claiming that she was trying to steal her daughter away.

To say Brianna was an irrational, nonsensical, drama queen would be an understatement.

Erik's nerves spiked as they entered the building. Of course he could dance, but not to the point where he could be a professional. He was more of a man who had rhythm and could do little bits and pieces of hip hop. Though he was graceful, quiet and fast on his feet, ballet was most definitely not one of his specialties.

"This way, daddy!" Her pink tutu bounced as she pulled him towards a brown door, similar to a school classroom door. Outside, there were mothers and daughters all lined up. The little girls were all so giddy and excited, jumping up and down and yapping to their mothers.

He hadn't realized it, but Aaliyah was tugging very hard at his arm. Erik was forming a resistance as they got closer.

"Ungh!" Her little grunts finally were audible in his ears, "Come! On!" Her ballet slippers slid on the tile floor as she tried to tug him.

"Oh damn, my bad." He eased up and allowed her to bring them closer to the door. The mothers immediately took notice of him, some eyeing him longer than they should've. Some looks of confusion, some of lust. They were already talking, but he could sense when the conversations switched to be about him.

Aaliyah was already talking to a group of young girls, sharing their excitement about today. He could hear her boasting about him, even when they questioned where her mother was.

There was classical music playing on the inside for a while, and Erik was praying that it would continue non-stop. He checked his watch; 1:59.

And as soon as the clock struck 2:00, the music stopped.

Another minute passed and the door finally opened, a set of older girls about twelve to fifteen exited. The younger girls squealed in excitement, lining up beside their mothers and Aaliyah to her father. She squeezed his hand and bounced up and down.

"Aye, you bout to pull my shoulder out." He complained.

"Oops, sorry daddy!" Aaliyah apologized and relaxed a bit. Instead, she swayed their arms back and forth.

The line started to move into the room and he assumed that he missed when they were called in. Admitted, Erik was quite interested to see who his daughter bragged about all the time. Being the last to step in, he closed the door and finally turned around.

Erik was beyond surprised to see a young black woman teaching the class. Not that he was underestimating her abilities, but when he thought of a ballet teacher, he pictured an old, white, grumpy-looking lady. Also, black ballerinas were not represented as much, so this was quite the surprise. He assumed that the teacher loved Aaliyah so much because she was a grandmother, and grandparents love children, but he got the exact opposite instead. He was thrilled in fact, and Aaliyah was correct, she was beautiful. You were beautiful.

"Good afternoon everyone, my name is Miss (Y/n) and I'm happy that you're all here for this Mother's Day class." Your smile was so vibrant and bold, lighting up the entire room. Your eyes made contact with Erik's, a chill raced through your body. He was very handsome.

He was broad and had a lot of mass, which easily showed through his clothes. You were digging the dreads that laid to the left of his head.

However, you were not surprised at all that her mother wasn't here, but you were shocked when he showed up instead. You were expecting not to see Aaliyah at all, but nonetheless you didn't question it. It warmed your heart to see how much he cared because the lack on her maternal side was very apparent. Aaliyah viewed you as a motherly figure, you knew that. And it didn't bother you at all, she was a sweetheart.

"Alright, so we'll start off with warming up the muscles then we can start with pliés."

You did simple stretches and warming up with the class so no one would get injured. Jogging on the spot, high knees, jumping jacks, lunges, toe touches, the basics. You did take notice of how fit Erik was, and he was quite flexible too. Though he was wearing a sweater, you could clearly see how muscular his arms were. You couldn't help but stare. Only to be stopped as he caught you.

You looked away, and stood up from your lunge, "Alright, moms and dad, can we get you on this side of the room." You pointed to the left where the taller bar was, and the girls used the shorter one.

The barre routines you pulled together were relatively simple. Though this was a third-level RAD (Royal Academy of Dance) ballet class, you had to alter it so the inexperienced parents could have their fun too, without stumbling or getting frustrated because ballet can be irritating.

"So we're gonna start with our feet in first position and hold for two counts, one... two... Arms through port de bras to second position, three, four." You demonstrated as the participants followed. "Demi-plié and stretch, demi-plié and stretch, rise up, hold, hold and lower. Grand plié, bringing your arm through port de bras and stretch, turn to the other side." The kids were happy at the simplicity, but half of the parents already looked winded. You smiled, "Easy enough?"

There were some sarcastic agrees, which was understandable.

"Don't worry, I'll walk you through it." You smiled at the parents, hitting play on the stereo. You physically demonstrated the steps on the first side, but on the second side, you walked around the room correcting technique.

Erik felt stupid, but no one was judging him as far as he could tell.

You lifted Aaliyah's chin gently as she had a habit of staring down at her feet. "Eyes up. Turn out your feet, and make sure you're resting on all ten toes." You fixed the rest of the girls' arms, posture, and feet positions then switched to the adult bar.

Big yikes, was all you could think of as you watched half of the mothers attempt ballet. The other half were ex-dancers so they were able to do the exercise properly and Erik wasn't bad at all. No, he wasn't perfect, and you betted that if he trained when he was younger, there was no doubt he would be the next Mikhail Baryshnikov. You could tell that he has trained in some areas that required him to be agile and flexible.

"Very good, Mr. Stevens." You praised him. He felt himself smirk. It was nice to receive approval outside of the bedroom or work.

The only thing you fixed on him was his elbow because it was drooping, and also because why not get a close-up of his massive arms. You adjusted posture and arms on the rest of the ladies.

"Nice finish." You applauded as the song came to an end. "I see we have some natural talent in the room, how many parents are or were dancers?" About five raised their hand. You asked them what discipline did they study and when, if they performed and other dance-related things.

Just like the ballet language itself, it was all so foreign to him. He didn't even try to comprehend what you were discussing. The most he knew were pliés, so when you got to saying the other barre exercises, he was at a loss.

Battement tendus, battement glissés, rond de jambe, and that wasn't even a quarter of the ballet glossary.

Finally finished with barre work, the class was in the centre facing the mirror.

"Hold up, it's more?" Erik asked, with a heavy breath. All that leg kicking and pliéing had him tired. He grew a newfound respect for ballerinas and all dancers for that matter.

Everyone giggled.

"Of course, Mr. Stevens. I only did a third of the barre exercises though. We still have centre, corner and character to do." You smiled at him. You lied though, there was no way you'd have enough time to do the whole syllabus, and also it was a Mother's Day class, not a regular one.

The look on his face was hilarious, everyone's giggles escalated into laughter.

"You're already tired, daddy?!" Aaliyah asked in shock as if she didn't have sweat beads on her forehead.

"Hell y- I mean, yeah I'm tired." A while ago he was doing just fine, it only goes to show that he was actually putting in effort. His hard work opened you back up to the idea of hosting a Father's Day dance class.

The first two years you hosted the Father's Day dance, only three or four would show up. It was a shame considering how cute of a bonding experience it would've been for both parties. Erik was your solid proof. Only if they could put their pride down for just an hour.

"So for this next exercise, we're gonna be doing turns!"

"Yaaayy!" The girls all cheered, as turning was their favourite. It was nice to see because when you started out dancing, turning was not your specialty. You were better at jumps.

"Can I get a partner to demonstrate this exercise?"

To your surprise Erik's hand raised.

"Oh, Mr. Stevens? Looks like I'm taking your partner, Aaliyah." You joked.

"That's okay! He said he wanted to!" She had a mischievous smile on her face.

Erik's face heated up as the others made noises, he felt so childish. It reminded him of the time the class found out about his first crush back in middle school.

Either way, demonstrating with two adults worked better than with a small child.

"So, what you're going to do is place your hands on my hips." He did just that, his cologne was faint but smelled very fresh and masculine. "And just rotate me as I keep my feet in first and imitate walks like a penguin." You demonstrated as you spoke. "Can anyone tell me what these are?"

They all raised their hands excitedly, ready to share their knowledge.

"Ellie?"

"Chaine turns!" The little blonde exclaimed.

"Perfect! Now make sure you keep your arms tight so you don't hit your partner."

The grip he had on your hips was surprisingly a lot more gentle than you expected from such a large man. For someone with no experience, he was a great partner. The audience applauded and you gave them a quick curtsey.

"Now you can have your partner back, Aaliyah." You smiled at the girl who was staring in awe at her father and a woman she wished to be one day. "After the partners in front have turned four times, you may start, okay?" You hit play and a more upbeat song played through the speakers, catching the ballet uneducated off guard. "Alright, so we're gonna start in three, two, one."

You watched as they taped their feet, shimmying their shoulders a bit as they waited for their turns. Not many people knew, but ballet wasn't strict to only classical piano music, it came in all forms.

You singled for each group to start, "Eyes up! Keep spotting! Keep your heels together, ladies! Turnout!"

Though you did have to remind her to spot the wall and not her feet, Aaliyah was the most consistent out of the rest of her class. She had so much potential and you hoped that she would continue dancing in the future.

"Very good, everyone! Take a little water break and we'll get started on our second last routine of the day."

The class awed in disappointment that it was already over. This was actually a first, usually, they were excited to leave. But syllabus work was never as fun as leisure classes like these. You were slightly more strict when it came to teaching syllabus.

"Can you open this for me, daddy?" Aaliyah handed her white and pink water bottle over to her dad.

He twisted it enough to remove the pressure, "Ah, it's too hard. Here, you try again."

"But if you can't open it, then how will I?" She pouted.

"Show me your muscles."

She lifted her small arms and flexed.

"Ahh, there they are. Now put 'em to use, girl." He placed the bottle back into her hands. With her might, she easily twisted the lid off.

"I did it!" She celebrated.

"Aye, there you go princess." Erik smiled, pulling his daughter into a hug and planting kisses on her cheek.

The mothers watched in awe at the father and daughter. They would've loved for their husbands to be as affectionate and loving with their children, but they were either too busy or too "manly" to be like that. Erik however, did not care. He would love and be proud of his seed no matter what.

You too gushed at the interaction. It made you become hopeful- about the possibility of having kids.

"Alright everyone, time for some grand jetés!"

The clanking of water bottles being put down, and ballet slippers padding across the floor filled the room.

"Can someone tell me what a grand jeté is?" The girls raised their hands in excitement just like that last time. "Amelia?"

"It's when you run and you jump and do a big split!"

"Perfect answer!" You applauded the light skin girl with brown freckles. "Mr. Stevens, can I get you to help me demonstrate once again?"

"Yeah, of course." He stepped out of the line towards you.

"So the goal of this one is to get really high but also to get a nice big split. Parents, you're going to assist in the height factor and girls, your goal is to get your legs as wide as possible, alright?" You stood in front of him and placed his large hands on your hips. "I'm going to chassé, then take two steps and brush my leg out to do the split."

The first run was slow, making sure that he could keep up. For someone with no experience in ballet, he really surprised you. His coordination was excellent.

The second time around, you picked up the pace and on the jump, he got you very high off the ground, as if he's practiced this before. He gently set you down and for a brief moment, his chocolate eyes met with yours. You smiled at each other and turned to face the class.

"Give Mr. Stevens a round of applause! That was amazing!" He bowed in acknowledgment. After the claps became silent you said, "See how high we got? That's how high you want to get on your own one day." Obviously that was just encouragement, a person can only jump so high.

You played the music and just like the last time you signalled for each partners to start. The mothers who were previous dancers got their daughters at very good heights, you could tell they were giving them pointers as well.

"Eyes up! No développé, make sure you're brushing your leg! Turnout! Stretch that back leg! Point your toes!"

It was funny to see the mothers who had no dance experience trying to keep up with their daughters. Some of the girls got jealous as they watched Erik lift Aaliyah over his head. They were in a world of their own, laughing joyously as they made it to the opposite corner of the room.

"I want to go that high, mommy!"

"We're too low!"

"Higher!"

The mothers looked at their children with incredulous looks. That simply meant, no.

One of the girls, Maya tapped Aaliyah's shoulder. "Can your daddy lift me?" She asked, there was no shyness in her voice. That girl was very bold.

Aaliyah looked up at Erik while pulling on his hoodie. "Daddy?"

"Wassup, princess?"

"Maya wants to know if you can lift her too."

He was stunned at first, "I uh- Yeah, sure." He smiled at them both. "As long as Miss (Y/n) is okay with it."

"Miss (Y/n)! Miss (Y/n)!" The two girls called out. You were checking your notes for the next class routine.

"Yes, girls?" You asked, a little startled.

"My daddy offered to help us jump higher if that's okay with you!"

Quite the surprise, "Yeah, that's fine."

After Maya was lifted, the other girls screamed "Me too!"

He looked dumbfounded, it made you giggle.

"How about this, one jump from Mr. Stevens and then you have to try and jump higher than that, but remembering all the corrections we've been working on throughout the year. Deal?"

"Deal!" They all cheered. The mothers looked very interested as well.

You started the music up and the girls lined up beside Erik. They each took their turns, and you could see some improvement already. They were jumping higher, which resulted in better splits. The mothers recorded, proud of their daughters and still in awe of Erik.

If they saw him on the streets, they would've assumed that he was up to no good. This soft, child-loving and friendly side was shocking to not only them, but to himself as well.

They all finished, and Erik was sweating. You wanted to ask him to take his sweater off, but that might be flirting a little too hard.

"Good job, ladies! And that was awesome Mr. Stevens!" You gave them a round of applause, the mothers joining in as well. "For our final lesson, we'll be doing révérence. You can choreograph this piece with your moms- and dad, but it's going to be really short. Two counts of eight, three max. I'll give you five minutes to come up with your routine."

Each pair went off to their own section of the room to practice.

Erik had no idea where to start, he was usually really good with formulating a plan, but ballet? Yeah, right. Good thing his little sidekick was the expert. She already had something in mind.

"Okay so, first we're going to walk, one, two- Turnout your feet, daddy."

"I'm trying, Li." He grunted as he fixed his feet. This ballet shit was a lot harder than I imagined.

"Then you bring your arms up to first and then to second, like this." She demonstrated for him and he followed suit. She looked at his arm position, droopy elbows, and corrected them. "Like that. Don't drop your arms, okay?"

"Yes, princess." He complied. Already, he could tell she was going to be a great leader.

"Then I'm gonna lift my arms up and you pick me up and we do a turn, then you put me down and we curtsy with our arms in demi-seconde."

"Demi-what?"

"Seconde, like this!" She showed him the arm position.

"Aight, lets run this again cuz I already forgot."

Aaliyah placed her hands on her hips, "Really, daddy?"

"Yeah, come on."

The two practiced their routine as did the others until you finally called time.

"So, who wants to go first?"

Of course Aaliyah's hand shot up, but you wanted to give someone else a go. Besides, you had to save the best for last.

The moms who weren't dancers went first, they were... Well, you've seen worse let's just say that. Then the ex-dancers went, very graceful and lovely routines. It made you wonder who was the choreographer because they were doing some things that you hadn't taught the class. Lastly, it was Erik and Aaliyah's turn.

The first part of their routine was very simple, but very cute. After he spun her and set her down to do their curtsy, he took her hand and placed a small kiss on the back and she did the same. It was so adorable, the mothers awed along with you.

"Excellent work, everyone!" Erik hadn't realized how much fun he was actually having until you announced that class was finally over. "I hope you all have an amazing rest of your Mother's Day and I'll see you next weekend."

Time does fly by when you're having fun.

"Goodbye, Miss (Y/n)!" They all said and exited the room, all except Erik and Aaliyah.

After class, Aaliyah would spend time talking with you about anything. She would tell you about her family life, school and anything that was holding her interest at the moment. It was habitual, and it made Erik more curious about you.

Erik watched as the eight-year-old ran into your arms.

"Hey Aaliyah, did you have fun today?" You asked holding onto her, similar to a mother.

"Yeah, so much fun! I told you my daddy was very strong!"

You laughed, "I didn't doubt it for a second." You stood up and looked at him.

"So y'all be talking about me while I'm not here?" He chuckled, arms folded over his chest.

"Only good stuff." You assured him with a grin. "I wasn't expecting you to be so graceful though."

Erik shrugged, "I am a big nigga."

You raised an eyebrow.

"She's heard everything already, but she knows not to say it. Right, Li?"

"Yes, sir!" She gave him her biggest toothy grin.

"Aye." He pulled five dollars out of his pocket and handed it to her, "How about you go get something from the vending machine, princess."

"Okay!" She accepted the cash and skipped out of the room.

Now all that remained was you and Erik. It wasn't necessarily tense in the atmosphere, but you felt shy for some odd reason. His stare was enough to make you want to hide your face and blush. Sure handsome men have been around you, but something about Erik was more intense.

"So, you met her mom, right?" He suddenly asked.

"Yeah." You wanted to laugh thinking of that ridiculous woman, "She was ready to take me to court after caring about her daughter. She said I was trying to take her away or whatever, but I can't help it if Aaliyah likes me. Besides I love kids."

"Yeah, sorry about that. The girl is crazy."

You nodded quickly, agreeing with him.

"Do you got any kids? I mean you look pretty young, but..."

Your heart sunk, "Well... I haven't um... Been able to conceive so no. That's kind of why I spend a lot of time with kids, to make up for the loss."

"Shit, I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

"No, no, no. It's fine, really. I've only tried it a few times with one person, and after the multiple failures I was too scared to try again so we gave up on each other."

"Damn, I really didn't mean to bring that up."

"No, it's alright. Really." You sighed, "For now, I'm more focused on helping these kids get better and enjoy ballet cuz it can be a lot of fun."

You could still see he was slightly upset by your news, so you decided to change the topic.

"So Mr. Stevens-"

"Erik."

"Yes, Erik." You smiled, "I'm curious to know about your natural talent. Did you dance when you were younger?"

"Nah. I always knew how to dance, but not this ballet shit. I was in the Navy and I did a bunch of training that made me work on stealth. I guess it counted for more than military stuff."

"Ohhh, okay that makes sense."

It was silent for a moment, until both of you tried to speak at the same time.

"You first." He insisted.

"Well I was hoping that I'll see you next month for the Father's Day dance class. I stopped doing them cuz the dads wouldn't show up, but I mean a big, strong guy like you decided to come to the Mother's Day class, so I thought, why not? I would love to have you again, it was really fun."

"I did this for Aaliyah, let's make that clear." He stated, attempting to come off as if he didn't enjoy the class.

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes, "Ballet isn't only for women. I'm sure you would've been the next Carlos Acosta if you started out when you were younger."

"Who?" Erik raised his eyebrow.

"He's a ballet dancer. But anyways, you should come. We can do more lifts and tricks, it'll be fun."

"We?" He gave you a suggestive look. That only made you blush and turn your head.

"Anyways! So will you be joining us again?"

He scratched his beard, "On one condition."

"Which is?"

He knew you were quite interested after he caught you staring more than once during the class. "Let me take you out on a date and we'll see what happens from there."

You were taken aback, "A d-date?"

"Yeah, I wanna get to know you more and see why my daughter likes you so much."

Your heart was beating so loudly, you were convinced that Erik could hear it. "I uh- y-yeah, sure. Why not?"

"Great." He smiled, showing off his gold fangs that you just took notice of.

Aaliyah came back with two packs of skittles, a pack of starbursts and Doritos. She watched you both exchange numbers. "I'm back!"

"Ready to go, Li?" He turned to his daughter after you finished giving him your number.

"Yep! Bye Miss (Y/n)!"

"Goodbye, sweetheart. See you next weekend. Bye Erik, see you soon."

He winked at you as he walked out, "Bye, Miss (Y/n)." The door finally locked, and the butterflies that were flying rampant in your stomach had finally settled down.

"What was she writing in your phone?" Aaliyah asked Erik while eating a handful of Skittles.

"None of your business, girl." He replied, taking the bag of starbursts out of her hand.

"Aww, you never tell me anything!" She huffed.

"That ain't true." He disagreed, popping two pink starbursts into his mouth.

"Yeah!"

"No."

"Yeah, it is!"

"No, it ain't."

The two bickered back and forth until they were in his Range Rover.

"You like her, don't you?" Aaliyah teased.

"Uhhh." He wasn't sure if he could answer that truthfully or just start another debate with his daughter again.

"It's okay daddy, I like her too." She said, buckling up as he started the engine.

He grinned at her through his rearview mirror, "Yeah, she's cool."

"Can we get ice cream?"

"You got ice cream money?"

"Daaadddy?!" She whined.

"I'm just playing, let's go." He laughed, pulling out of the parking lot and heading towards the ice cream parlour.

Happy Mother's Day! - I know this wasn't that much about Mother's Day, but I didn't want to write your typical Mother's Day one-shot. I wanted to make it unique.

I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. If you haven't guessed it, I am in fact a dancer.

I do ballet, acro and jazz (I've done other dances, but this is what I've been doing this year). I didn't want to get too technical with the ballet glossary terms because it would come off as gibberish, unless you are a ballet dancer as well.

If you dance, let me know. What style? If you do ballet, are you with RAD? I am.

Thank you for reading!

(Start/Finish: May 10, 2019 - May 11, 2019)

2023 Note: Forgot to upload this on Mother’s Day, so here it is on Father’s Day instead :P

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

76 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

Why?

I don't even know if I'm on a hiatus anymore, I've once again been inspired. This one was also recommended, not the story, but the reader being a child by DejiahnaeNorthcutt.

Warnings: A pinch of smut (obviously not between the reader and Erik) with a sprinkle of angst

This takes place after Erik has defeated T'Challa, and I'm not following the exact story line.

Relationship: King Erik x Child Reader

As an eight year old, you had the joy of exploring the vast and spacious palace. There were so many places to go an explore every single day. Queen Ramonda would scold you for being too noisy, or not acting in a cordial manner, but you were just a child.

She was not your biological mother, and in no way are you related to the royal family. They took you in three years ago, when your parents had been murdered by a man who went by the name, Klaue. Of course you were not present when it had happened, but you found their lifeless bodies on the floor once you got back inside from playing. T'Challa was on the scene immediately in his Black Panther form, comforting you as he was too late to capture Klaue. After taking you to the palace, T'Challa swore to protect you for the rest of your life.

You had plans to play with him as he had promised you yesterday.

~~~

"King T, where are you going?" You caught him just before he headed outside of the palace.

He knelt down to your level, "I have a challenge today."

"Really? And you're gonna win it, right!?" You placed your small hands onto his shoulders.

"Of course." Hearing your voice always made him smile.

"Then we can play once you get back!"

"Yes we can."

"Promise?" You held a pinky to his face.

"Promise." He wrapped his larger pinky around yours with a gentle squeeze.

"Good luck!" You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

As you released, he patted your cornrowed braids. "See you soon." And with that, he took off, but you had noticed his usual stride was lacking some confidence.

~~~

Today, the palace felt bitter and gloomy. But you being the innocent and naive eight year old that you were, it didn't phase you one bit. It was quiet, you had noticed, without Queen Ramonda calling you to eat breakfast or one of the royal siblings stealing something off of your plate. In fact, you hadn't eaten any breakfast at all and it was almost noon.

Breakfast could wait, it was playtime. You ran all the way to the throne room calling T'Challa's name expecting him to be ready for you. The doors were quite heavy for you to open, but once you got them open you jumped up and down calling his name.

"King T'Challa, you promised that we would play! Come on!" You dashed through the oddly crowded room, pushing and weaving through the legs of various members. "King T'Ch-"

All eyes were on you, including a set of very unfamiliar ones that occupied the throne with a smug look on his face.

"Who are you?" You questioned at the stranger sitting in T'Challa's spot.

He let out a laugh before answering, "I'm ya king." His foreign accent throwing you off.

"No you're not, King T'Challa is." Your expression had changed to a frown. "And he promised that he would play with me today."

He smiled at you, gold caps glistening off of his canines. "Is that right?"

"Yes, where is he?"

Before the stranger could answer you were grabbed by the collar of your dress, "Apologies my king, she is just an orphan. Please excuse her behaviour." It was Okoye who had stepped in, carrying you out of the room. "What do you think you're doing?" She asked with a hiss.

"I'm looking for King T'Challa, have you seen him?" But she didn't answer your question, ushering you away and telling you to go play outside.

The rest of the day, your mood was sour. Instead of playing, you sat in the fields, plucking the grass which eventually caused a bald spot. Queen Ramonda would have scolded you for it, but she hadn't been around. Shuri had not surfaced either, you checked her laboratory multiples of times, but she wasn't there.

How could T'Challa break a promise to you like that? When you found him, you were gonna beat him up for sure.

The sun had finally set, but you remained outside waiting for the King to return.

"Aye, Princess." That same man who was seated on the throne had noticed you sitting alone.

"My name is not princess, it's (y/n)." You told him, with your head resting on your knees.

"Aight, (y/n). Watchu doing out here by yourself?"

"I'm waiting on King T'Challa."

He chuckled, "Why?"

"Because I can."

"Oh, sassy I see." He said, smirking.

You looked at him briefly, then looked away. "He promised..."

The stranger sat beside you, "Sometimes adults make promises that they can't keep."

"Why?" You asked.

"Well... There's many reasons, to be honest."

"Was he lying to me?" You asked, staring at the side of his face. His teeth were clenched, you could tell.

"...Nah." His gaze was focused on the hazy orange sky.

Your short attention span had moved on, "Um, what's your name?"

"I go by a few. N'Jadaka, Erik or Killmonger. Your pick." He listed them off.

"Why so much?"

"Because, my pops named me N'Jakada, my mama named me Erik when I lived in America and I got Killmonger when I was in the navy."

"Why?"

"You ask too many question, little girl. Come on, it's getting cold." He got up from the ground and easily helped you up with one hand. "I think dinner's ready."

You were already liking this new guy.

It had been a week since T'Challa, Queen Mother, Shuri and Nakia's disappearance. Wherever they are, you just prayed that they were doing just fine. You felt hurt that they would leave without letting you know anything, you didn't even know how T'Challa's challenge went.

You were in your room, getting your hair redone by one of the palace maids.

"Hey, Kamala?" You began, looking at her through the full-length mirror.

"Hmm?" She didn't look up, too focused on your second last braid.

"Why haven't T'Challa and the others come back yet?"

She paused before meeting your gaze in the mirror with a sympathetic look. "You ask too many questions, (y/n). I told you, only five per session."

"But it's only my fourth one." You whined. And why does everyone keep telling you that?

"Ask something else, I get to choose what I want to answer."

"Fine. Why won't you answer that question?" You were sharp with your tongue.

"Because I don't want to." But she was even sharper. "You have one more question, ask wisely."

"Hmm..." You thought, but before you could answer, Erik had barged into the room with a smirk. You saw him approach Kamala from behind really close, his hands were too low for you to see where they were going as he whispered into her ear.

"Later." She whispered back, grinning from ear to ear.

You heard a slapping sound and she yanked your braid, pulling your head back. "Ouch!"

"Oh shoot, sorry baby girl." She soothed the tender spot with her fingers.

"Shit, princess you're here? I ain't even notice you."

"Hi, Killmonger. And I told you, my name is (y/n)! Not princess."

"Well as your king, imma call you whatever I want." He teased.

"But you're not my king, T'Challa is." Your arms folded against your chest.

His playful demeanour had changed, and you felt the rattail comb pop you in your head.

"Owww!" You held the throbbing spot.

"(Y/n), have respect for King N'Jakada." Kamala scolded.

"Nah, it's all good." His smile came back, "I'll see y'all later."

"Okay!" She answered cheerfully and you grumbled.

"...I have my last question."

"Shoot."

"Do you have a crush on Killmonger?"

The comb had popped you once again, and you hollered, holding the spot she had hit.

"Don't ask such childish questions, (y/n)."

"You're never doing my hair again!"

"What's that mask you're holding?" You asked Erik, who just got back from giving instructions to the Border Tribe's leader, W'Kabi.

"It's a ceremonial mask."

"Is it special? Did you make it? Who gave it to you?"

"Aye, slow down, princess." He set the mask down on a wooden table. "I was feeling it, so I rightfully took it. And no, I didn't make it."

"Then who did?"

He sighed, "I dunno, shorty."

You gasped, "Are you making fun of my height? Just because you're taller than me now doesn't mean I won't get taller than you later!"

He chuckled, of course American slang wasn't used in Wakanda. "It's just a nickname, like princess."

"Well I don't like it."

"Damn, that's too bad, shorty." He smirked, "But like I said before, imma call you whatever I want."

You charged at him, but he easily dodged you and laughed.

"We can play after, I got shit to do." He picked up the mask, and waved you goodbye, "See ya later, princess."

"Hey! Stop cursing and calling me princess! Ugh." You huffed and went into the kitchen to go bother the cooks. If you were lucky, they'd give you a cookie or two.

It was well past your bedtime that was given to you by the Queen Mother, but you couldn't fall asleep, weary of T'Challa's absence. He didn't even try contacting you through the kimoyo beads he gave to you.

Maybe Killmonger was still awake. So you snuck off to his sleeping quarters. The palace was very still and quiet, no one was around and there were no guards standing at his door. Surprisingly.

The times that you did try to sneak into his chambers to surprise attack him, either the guards sent you away or the door would be locked. This time, it remained unlocked, so you stealthily opened the door without a sound.

You were startled when you heard two familiar voices making lewd sounds and saying very inappropriate things that an eight year old should never hear. As you approached his king sized, your eyes doubled in size. You found Erik at the end of the bed, naked and Kamala on her back, naked as well. His body moved forward and hers followed the pace. Your scream startled the both of them.

"Oh my gosh!" Kamala screamed, and shielded her entire body with the covers.

"Holy fuck!" Erik quickly put his boxers back on. His body was covered in little keloids, but you were way too disgusted to even care about that.

"Oh my God, ewwww!!!!" You screamed, covering your eyes. "Yucky!!!!"

"How the hell you get in here?" He asked with laboured breaths.

Before he could get to you, you dashed out of the room with a highly disgusted scowl on your face. You hid yourself under the covers, trying to erase your mind of the horrors that you just witnessed.

"They were just playing, they were just playing, they were just playing..." You chanted to yourself continuously. A hand touched your covered back, surprising you. You pulled the blanket off of your head and looked at the owner of the hand, Kamala.

"Baby girl, I'm sorry you had to see that."

"That's so nasty!"

She rubbed your shoulder, without saying anything.

"You did the thing that mommies and daddies do. You're not a mommy and he's not a daddy!"

"You'll understand when your older, okay?"

"No, I don't want to understand! I'll never do that! Ever!" You hid your face back underneath the blankets and closed your eyes tight.

She sighed, tucking you in properly as your foot was dangling off the side of the bed. "Goodnight, (y/n)." She said, turning off the light.

You weren't upset, just highly grossed out. And you had every right to be, being the innocent eight year old that you were. Older Wakandan kids have spoken about it before, but you didn't really grasp an understanding of the concept or what it really was. Honestly, you didn't care to know about it either. It was just two naked people playing on a bed... At least that's all you got from it. But when you saw Erik and Kamala doing a little more than just playing, you understood it a little better. Not that you wanted to.

Another week had passed and still no sign of T'Challa, Shuri, Queen Ramonda or Nakia.

"Can we play today?" You asked Erik who was sitting comfortably on the throne while snacking on shuku shuku.

"I dunno, Princess. I'm kinda busy."

Your head tilted to the side as you stared at him, "Busy how? You're eating sweets while sitting on King T'Challa's throne!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, I'm the k-" He started coughing, choking actually.

You ran over to aid him, slapping his back as hard as you could.

He let out a hard cough, and a piece of the dessert that had lodged in his throat flew out. "Fuck." He cleared his throat. "Let me go get someone to clean this up, then we can go play."

You took a crumpled napkin out of your dress pocket, cleaning up for him, then throwing it out. "Let's go!" You cheered and ran out of the palace.

He smiled at your eagerness.

"So whatchu wanna play, princess?" He asked, staring at the local women walking by. They greeted him with curt bows as they made their way by.

"I wanna learn how to fight."

"Then why didn't you ask the Dora Milaje to teach you?"

You frowned at him, "Because, I want you to teach me. They're scary."

"Oh and I'm not?"

"No, you're nice."

He laughed at the irony. The world saw him as a monster, and here you are, an innocent little child calling a killer nice. It was ludicrous.

"We could've just done this in the training room." He stated.

You had taken him to a large park in the middle of the city. There were many people roaming about, Erik was on high alert too (the heart-shaped herb gave his senses a booster). He knew that being out in the public wasn't safe, but he wasn't afraid of anyone. Nothing could go wrong.

"But I like it out here. I get to see new things all the time, plus Queen Ramonda never let me go into the city by myself."

"I got a question for you though."

"Yeah?"

"How you gonna fight in a dress?" You pulled up your dress, and he turned away. "Yo, put your shit back down!"

"Look!"

"Nah, you wyling."

"Just look!"

"This girl got me fucked up." He mumbled to himself, sneaking a little peak.

"See, it has shorts under it!"

He sighed in relief. "Aye bruh, don't be doing shit like that."

"Why not?"

"You can't just lift your dress up to random dudes. Even if you got shorts built into it."

"But you're not a random dude, you're my friend."

He felt his heart pang. Erik was astonished at your innocence. Growing up, he had to become a man faster than majority of the kids on earth, losing both of his parents so young and all. His innocence was taken from him at a young age.

Erik couldn't get rid of you even if he tried, you were refreshing to him, and he really cared about you. Despite the shit he's been through during his time on the throne, you always managed to bring joy into his day. Regardless of your nonstop rounds of twenty questions or you still referring to T'Challa as the current king.

"Aight girl, let's fight." He suppressed his emotions by reminding you of the reason you two were out here in the first place.

"Right!" You got into a stance, a really bad one Erik would say. Your thumbs were tucked under your fingers into a fist, arms raised high up, leaving your stomach exposed and your feet were parallel, that was like asking someone to knock you onto the ground.

"What the hell is that?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

"I'm squaring up. That's what American's call it."

He started laughing, "That ain't squaring up." He walked over to you, fixing your hands and feet positions. "First of all, never tuck your thumbs, you can break em like that. Second, don't leave your stomach exposed. If you get punched or kicked in the gut, it's over. And last, don't stand with your feet side by side."

"Why not?" You began to ask, but in a smooth move, he knocked you backwards and before you could fall he caught you.

"That's why. Now show me the correct positions."

This time, you laid your thumbs overtop of your digits, your arms guarded your stomach and you had one foot back and the other in front.

"Good, good." He smiled, "But, when in doubt, just run away."

"What, I'll never run away!"

"So what if you was fighting someone like me?"

"I'd kick your ass!"

His eyebrows raised and he had a shocked expression. So you may have been hanging around him too long... "Princess, don't say that."

"Sorry. I'd beat you up!"

He chuckled, "Well I'd like to see you try one day." Erik sat back down and held his palms up to your level. "Punch the middle of my hands as hard as you can."

You recoiled your fists and started swinging, left and right into his hands, but he didn't even move.

"Come on, harder than that."

You could feel yourself already getting tired. "I am!" It didn't help that he was a hundred times your size.

"My hand should move back at least an inch."

You huffed and pulled your fist back as far as you could before aiming into his palm.

"Aye, whoa, whoa!" He grabbed your wrist quickly, "This ain't anime, you bout to break your damn hand like that."

"What did I do wrong now?" You whined with a pout.

"You left yourself open again, your opponent could easily kick you in the stomach or some shit." He got up from his seat, "Look, watch how I lead in to my throwing arm."

You watched as his large arms demonstrated in slow motion. Even though he was probably only putting in two percent, he still looked strong.

"Now you show me."

So you did just as he did, slow then fast, alternating arms. "How's that?"

"It's a good start. You can do some reps into my pa-" The kimoyo beads on his wrist suddenly lit up, Okoye's holographic form appeared.

"My king, I have very important news for you." She said.

"Keep practicing. When I'm back, you better be stronger than me." He smirked and you sarcastically laughed. "Aight, wussup?" He walked off, not too far from you, but far enough so you couldn't listen in on their conversation.

You did exactly what he did, making sure to follow whatever he had taught you. Just recently, you had noticed how quickly the time was changing. Fewer people were in the park, and many shops were closed by now.

You were getting bored of throwing punches at the air and Erik was taking forever with his call. You sat in the grass, playing with the hem of your dress until a squirrel ran by your foot.

"Hey, come back!" You aimlessly chased after the brown rodent. It bobbed and weaved through the trees and bushes until there was no more. Your feet were back on concrete... Uh oh.

You were lost, not paying attention at all. Nothing looked familiar and the park was so vast and you were so small. There was no way you'd find your way back to the location Erik was at.

"So, you're with that new king?" A man with an unusual looking scar on his cheek asked you.

"Well he's not a king, but his name is Erik. I like to call him Killmonger though." You timidly answered.

The two other men by his side laughed.

"Is he your friend?"

"Yes! He's teaching me how to fight."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah!"

"Well where is he now?"

"He's speaking to the scary general of the Dora Milaje. She had something important to tell him."

"So he left you all alone?"

"Not really."

"Of course he did, look you're all by yourself now."

"Well then I gotta get back and look for him. It's almost dinner time." You began walking away, only to be grabbed by the stranger. "Hey, st-" Your mouth was covered by his crusty hands.

"Yo! Princess, where the hell did you go?" You could hear Erik calling out.

"Mmmh!" You tried to scream, but he pressed his hand tighter against your mouth.

"Say anything else and we'll slice your throat." They all had daggers in their hands. He took the dagger and drew a small X on the back of your hand. Your eyes widened at the pain, as the blood drained out of your hand.

But Erik heard your muffled call for help, along with the smell of blood. He would thank the heart-shaped herb later, but for now he followed it, leading into the alleyway.

"Aight (y/n), I never said we was playing hide and seek. Come out now, we gotta go back." He stared at you and the three men. Your blood was now staining your dress and some dripping onto the floor along with your tears. "What the fuck is this?"

"Look." The man held your face up to face at Erik, who was looking insane at the moment. "There's your friend."

"Let her go." Erik had taken a step forward, but was stopped once the man held his knife to your neck. He's been in this scenario before, but the ending was not pretty for the hostage or the hostage-taker.

"Ah, ah, ah. You take another step and her head is gone."

Erik clenched his fists together, "She's a kid. What the fuck do you want from her?"

"We don't want anything from her. We want you to give us money." The meatier one said.

"Bruh, y'all the most cliché thugs ever." Erik face palmed, "I don't got time for this, man."

The knife began to cut your neck and you whimpered, Erik could feel his anger bubbling very high. He didn't want to do anything in front of you, but if it was to save you, he'd go to any extremes.

"Cliché, but very fucking serious."

All Erik could think of was; when did Wakandan's start using western swear words? Then he started to laugh, "I ain't giving you clowns shit. So give the girl back, and y'all can keep your lives."

Now the men laughed, and the tall one said, "There's three of us and one of you."

A smirk grew across Erik's lips, "Y'all must not know who I am then." The necklace started to cover his body into his Black Panther suit and then men stared in awe. "So? I ain't about to ask you again, give me the girl and we can be on our merry ways."

The man shook his head, digging the knife deeper into your neck, drawing blood. "No. We do not care who you are, you're not even the real Black Panther."

"Oh?" And in the blink of an eye, you had traded places with Erik. He was up front, towering over your kidnapper. "Get out of here, princess."

"I don't wanna leave you." Your tears slightly blurred your vision.

"I'll be right behind you." His voice was oddly calm. "Go!"

You took off, not knowing exactly where to run, but you knew you wanted to get as far away from there as possible.

"Get her! I'll take him." The leader yelled at the other two.

Before the men could take off, Erik had kicked the fatter one in his chest, sending him flying backwards into the tall one. They crashed into the wall, denting it in the process.

"Fuck you thought this was?" He frowned behind the mask.

The leader pulled out a pistol. Now how did he get ahold of that?

"Your time is up, give us the money. Now!"

Erik stepped closer and closer, "Or what?"

BANG!

You jumped as you heard the loud sound go off. It was very silent, eerie too. You ran as fast as your little legs could take you, until you had to stop to catch your breath.

"Don't stop now." Erik's voice had startled you, causing your breathing to pick up once again. "Here, hop on my back."

You climbed on as he bent down. You were exhausted, but you were never too tired to ask questions. "Hey, Killmonger?" You began, as you rested your head onto his back.

"Yeah?"

"Did you do it?"

"What?"

"Did you kill them?"

"Princess, no more questions for today, aight?"

"...Okay."

That night, you saw Erik give himself three more scars.

A few months had gone by and Wakanda was looking different. You were alone, outside by the patch you had picked a while ago. It had already grown in, but was trimmed down with the rest of the lawn this morning. You were really missing T'Challa and the others, it made you question if he was ever going to come back for you.

"Yo, princess. Why you out here alone again?" He took a seat beside you.

"Can I ask you a few things, Killmonger?"

"If I say no you're still gonna ask me anyway."

"What happened to your mama and baba?"

"My mom was locked up, pops was killed by his own people when I was your age."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why was she locked up?"

"I dunno, I was too young to remember."

"Then what about your baba?"

Erik took a long pause before answering, "Because, they ain't see eye to eye with what he wanted for our people."

The look in your eyes could tell him you were confused.

"There's about two billion people in the world that looks just like us. But their lives are a lot harder. My pops wanted to liberate them all from the oppressors."

You listened carefully as he went on about systemic oppression, colonization and living out his father's legacy. It was a lot to take in and you were very surprised that your short attention span allowed you to listen to all of what he had told you.

"What are your scars for?"

"You sure you wanna know?" He stared at you directly in the eyes.

"Yes."

"Each one is for a kill..."

"Like a human being?"

He simply nodded, afraid that you would be scared of him.

You were too drained to even care at the moment, still you asked, "Why?"

"I did it to get to where I'm at right now."

You paused, reflecting on his choice of words...

"Can I tell you something now?" You pulled your knees into your chest and rested your chin atop.

"Of course."

"My mama and baba were killed by a man named Klaue."

Erik chuckled, "And do you know what happened to him?"

You shook your head. Erik lifted his arm, showing off a keloid mark on his wrist.

"You killed him?"

"Yep." He sighed.

You hugged your arms around your knees, "...Can I tell you one more thing?"

"Yeah."

"Remember when I asked you to teach me how to fight?"

"What about it?"

"I didn't care to learn how to fight at first because King T'Challa promised to protect me for the rest of his life..."

Erik stared at you intently, not saying anything. The wind blew silent and the night grew colder.

"I knew that promise was broken when I saw you sitting on his throne." You said, muffled into your knees, but Erik heard every word. "And I dreamed about it... The day he would come back and play with me."

When I tell you, I have no idea why all my stories end off so sadly...Whew, and no part 2 for this. Thanks for reading!

(Start/Finish: November 12-13, 2018)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

45 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

You Can Do What?! (Part 2)

Happy New Year! I hope your year is looking great so far!

I finally added pictures! Also, if your hair isn't medium/long just imagine you added hair to achieve the style (y'all know how versatile our hair is).

^ Uh... Tumblr does not like to transfer pictures (I used to write on Wattpad) so just use your imagination lmao. (2023 me writing this)

No warnings.

Relationship: Helpful Erik x Reader

"Hey, it's Tasha. I'm on vacation right now. Appointments will resume next month, please don't blow my phone up with time requests. I'll get back to y'all when I'm home. Bye!"

"Nah, sorry boo. I'm full."

"We don't do walk-ins."

"This number is no longer in service, please hang up and try ag-"

You sigh for the tenth time today, tossing your phone to the left on the sofa. Every single one of your stylists were either fully booked or gone away on vacation. Tasha was your go-to, but she was away and you became stressed when her voicemail picked up.

Erik peered his head out from the kitchen, "You good?" The smell of food wafted into your nose, promising you a delicious dinner later on.

"No, everyones either gone or full." You fold your arms against your chest and sink further into the couch. Times like these were when you wished you listened to your mother and learned how to braid as a child. You proudly (and embarrassingly) belonged to the secret society of black women who don't know how to cornrow braid for shit.

"Why don't you just go to the lady who does my dreads?" He suggested, but you turned that down immediately.

"I am not paying a hundred dollars to get my hair braided down."

"I'll pay." Yes, Erik was boujee, "A hunnid ain't much." As hell.

Sitting up, you give him an incredulous look, "Okay, Bill Gates." And with an eye roll you add, "That's a waste of money. You know what Tasha could give me for half of that?" And you explain that you could get a wash, braid-up and styling, which was a lot more worth it. You considered wearing a wig, but the ones you had needed to be retired.

"Aight, hold up." He disappeared back into the kitchen, the sound of the stove turning down and metal clanging broke through the silence.

In two days, you had a very important meeting that would potentially change your life and Erik knew how much it meant to you. It was all you would talk about once you got off the phone with the CEO of Beauty Inc.

After the Cantu and Shea Moisture conundrum, you started your own line of hair products, a small one actually- with a leave-in conditioner, a shampoo and a deep conditioner. At first, you'd hand out samples and sell some products to family and friends. Then when you profited enough, you made an Instagram page dedicated to your small business. You paid for promotions and handed out samples for people to review and eventually your small business became a medium business and now you're on your way to partnering with one of the best beauty and hair companies in the entire country. 100% black owned, by the way.

When Erik reappeared, he had a slight smirk on his lips while scrolling through his phone.

"What?"

He sat down beside you and showed you the screen. "Look at this."

You stared at the three images he had on display. Three different women with three different hairstyles.

"Those are cute..." You scrolled back and forth between each picture. "But how does this help me, E? I can't braid, you know this."

"Just cuz you don't know how to braid doesn't mean I don't."

At first it didn't register until you realized how long you were staring at him with a puzzled expression. "You can do what?!"

"I. Can. Braid." He said slower looking a little annoyed.

If this were a sitcom you would've fainted *cue the laugh track* but Erik was being so serious, the smile on his face had been replaced with a stoic expression.

"How the hell am I just- Erik! We've been together for how lo- Oh my g-" You couldn't even finish your sentences due to the shock. This man was full of surprises, but this right here definitely put the cherry on top. At some point you got up, pacing back and forth with your fingers resting against your temples. "Boy-"

He grabbed your arm to stop you from moving, "Chill baby, you acting like you ain't never seen a man braid."

"Nah that's not even it! You of all people can braid!?" You're not exactly sure why you were reacting like this... Maybe it was out of embarrassment that your hyper-masculine boyfriend could do something so stereotypically female that you couldn't. This had to be something he learned during the military, but what would they be braiding other than ropes? If they even did that!

"So you gon' let me do your hair or nah?"

With a hefty sigh (that he called you out for), you grabbed a pillow off of the sofa and placed it in between his feet. "Hold on." You retreated to go get your hair products for this man to either slay or destroy your hair.

By time you got back with your styling tools and hair products, Erik had set on a comedy movie, one that he's seen a million times, but you refused to watch it- not anymore of course as you were now trapped in between his legs.

"Oh nah, you're hot as hell." You got up even faster than when you sat down and went to blast the AC.

"That ain't me, that was all you. Pacing around the damn room like you was warming up for track or some shit."

You sat back down, scooting closer to rest your back. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Have faith in me baby, when have I ever let you down?"

You could recall a few times, "Remember our first date?"

"Aye, that was a first date. Them shits never go as planned." He retaliated.

"You're lucky I even considered a second date."

He began to chuckle, "I made it up to you with my fire di-" But he always fixed it.

"Okay!" You slapped his leg. "See, all you think about is pussy!"

"Nah, that's not all."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think about your booty and tits too."

You roll your eyes and slap him even harder on the calf, "Nasty ass."

"Anyway, you ain't choose a hairstyle." He leaned down showing you the options again, his torso resting on your head.

"Hmm..." You scrolled back and forth one last time before going with your favourite style, "That one."

"Aight cool." He sat up and you could hear him rub his hands together, "My baby bout to look sexy as hell."

"And if you do anything st-"

"(Y/n), chill. I said I got this, quit all that worryin' shit." He untied the wrap off of your head and tossed it to the side.

"I'm serious, E. You know how much this meeting means to me."

"And you acting like my hands have never been in other chick's hair."

Your eyes widened as you got ready to stab him in the leg with the rattail comb. "WHAT?"

He erupted into a laughter, "Chill. I'm just playing!" He began taking the twists out one by one.

Oh he he ha ha now nigga, you almost made me stab you in the fuckin' popliteal. "You ain't funny."

"I am funny, you just don't know how to take a joke."

"My other niggas are a lot more funnier than you." You tease with a serious tone.

"Aw hell naw, see (y/n). Why you tryna get somebody killed? I can do that shit right now."

"Chill. I'm just playing." You mock his response.

"Oh you got jokes, huh?"

"Yup, just like my other niggas." You quip, this time with a smile. A feeling you have not felt since you were a child painfully tingled your head. "Did you just pop me in my head?!"

"You're misbehaving. And if you wanna act like a child, I gotta treat you like one."

You wanted to bite his hypocritical ass. "Boy, fuck you."

"Like I said, we can do that later."

For the rest of the time, you both continued to exchange remarks to tick each other off. You got popped in the head at least five more times with each comb. At one point you did end up biting him on the thigh, but that only resulted in him starting the braid over because you screwed it up according to him. He surprisingly wasn't rough as he usually was with everything else (despite getting hit by the comb) and he was very precise. You could catch a small glimpse in the camera on your phone, but each time you tried to look, he would yank your head back so you couldn't see. You had to remind him that your neck wasn't made out of jello.

One thing you learned from this experience was that Erik is huge on perfection and tidiness. Now the cleanliness of his big ass house made sense. You thought he hired a thousand maids, but each time you've been there you haven't seen one. When your bedroom was a mess, Erik would actually go in there and tidy up for you, but not before criticizing you of course.

If a braid looked slightly crooked or not good enough, he'd take it out and start over. No, he was no professional, but he wanted his girl to look amazing after he was finished.

The movie was coming to an end and you were ready for him to be out of your hair. Not that it didn't feel good when his fingers ran across your scalp, but you were very anxious and based on the conversation you both shared within that time, he could've been ruining your hair just to be petty.

"Eriiiik?" You whine.

"Hmm?" He was done the braids and now fluffing your curls.

"You didn't fuck me over, right?"

He sighed, "What, you don't trust me?"

"I ain't never seen you do hair in my life. What am I suppose to expect?"

"Greatness." He simply said, adding shea butter to seal in the moisture. "Trust a nigga sometimes, baby. I'd never have you looking like a fool."

He wasn't lying. Erik always had you in the latest fashion, even though you asked him to stop buying clothes worth half of your pay check. Not that you had bad taste, but as said before, Erik was boujee- as hell.

Suddenly the thought came to your head. When the hell did he even find the time to learn how to braid? He was usually always so damn busy.

"So who taught you?"

He sucked a breath in between his teeth before responding, "You gon' get mad."

Already knowing the answer you still ask, "Why?"

"Cuz you was prolly expecting me to say something like my grandma." He scratched the back of his neck and sat back, "But it was that hairdresser I was messing around with."

You knew exactly which one. Kaleisha.

That's actually how you met Erik. And it actually explains a lot of why she unexpectedly banned you from going back to her salon. Erik's dumbass just had to flirt with you in front of her clients. If gossip was an olympic sport, the whole shop would've won first place all the time. You didn't know they were a thing at first, not until Miss Betsy, an elder lady who wore the stiffest wigs, warned you. She was in everybody's business, inside and outside of the salon.

"The one that kicked me out cuz of you." You grumbled and got up to stretch as he finished. He watched your back arch, reminding himself to get it even deeper later on.

"Right." He gave you a coy smile, "Aye turn around, lemme see that pretty face."

You didn't even try to fight your grin as you turned around. The smile on his face was enormous. It was a bit scary too, he was usually frowning or not broadcasting any emotion.

"I. Did. That. WHEW!" He jumped off the sofa, startling you and pulling you into a tight. "Sexy ass!" He littered your face with kisses.

"E! St-stop!" You laughed, barely able to push him away. When he finally let you go, you ran over to the mirror to see his accomplishment. You stared at your hair in awe. He really did that! You were speechless honestly, it was excellent! Better than some of the hairdressers you've been too.

He smiled at you, "I told you I know what I'm doing."

"Ain't no way!" You were astounded. How the hell could he braid better than you!? Well actually to be fair, you didn't obtain that skill and you refuse to ask him how. He'd hold that over you till the day you die. You continued to admire your hairstyle while saying, "Oh my God." It made you wonder who he been practicing on for it to be this good, so you ask.

He frowns, "What did I tell you before? Trust a nigga sometimes."

You turn around and give him a hug, "Thank you baby! I love it."

"Anything for you, shorty. But, imma need a payment." His tone became very mischievous.

"Payment?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Yeah, you thought shit was free?"

"Uhh... Yeah."

"Nah lil mama, show me that arch and we can negotiate a payment method."

This ni- Fuck it, if there's anything he deserved right now it would be this.

Oh, and your meeting with that CEO went a lot better than you thought. You would definitely be thanking Erik for giving you that glow and a confidence boost when you got home.

Thanks for reading!

What hairstyle did you choose out of the three? I'd pick #2.

Apologies if you can't see yourself doing any of them. If you have short(er) hair or none, it's all good! It was just to add visuals.

I was actually gonna let Erik do normal cornrows (that ended up being a bit messy) so she could wear a wig, but I said screw that. I feel like Erik would perfect anything, and plus he's a smart guy so I'm sure he'd be able to braid.

P.S. Who else belongs to the secret society of black women who don't know how to braid? 😂 I'm half in-half out lol, I just need more practice.

(Start/Finish: January 4-5, 2019)

P.S. I am no longer a part of the secret society :P I learned later in 2019 (current me writing this) Once again, ignore the A/N’s since the pictures are missing.

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

28 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

You Can Do What?! (Part 1)

This is my gift to all of you. I'm gonna use one of my wash "day" routines though because some people have complicated routines and mines is very simple (and doesn't take a whole day) lol. Enjoy!

Warnings: Smut

Relationship: Helpful Erik x Reader

Ah wash day... Great fun, right?

The night before, you prepped your hair with a homemade deep conditioner: Two tablespoons of coconut oil, one tablespoon of honey, one tablespoon of olive oil and half of a banana. For your scalp, you applied raw aloe vera and let it all sit underneath a plastic bag (which Erik laughed at you for) and your black satin bonnet.

He always found a way to poke fun at your natural routine.

Once you were too lazy to blend the banana out properly and you ended up with little banana seeds in your hair for almost two weeks. Then there was the time when you were upset and your rough hand caused aloe vera to break off into your hair. That took another two weeks to come out. He would either pluck them out and hold it up to your face while making a witty comment or he'd let you go out with the pieces in your hair if you were being stubborn. Erik being taller than you was both a blessing and a curse.

You woke up a little earlier to get wash day out of the way. You were hoping Erik would still be sleeping, but as you began shifting to get out of the bed, his strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back in.

"Where you going?" He asked into your neck. His voice wasn't as raspy as usual and you could smell fresh mint as he spoke, so you'd assumed he'd been awake for some time.

"Wash day." You responded, pointing to your bonnet which was halfway off of your head and the plastic bag underneath had untied itself at some point during the night.

"Lemme help you." He said, placing a kiss against your neck.

"What? No." You chuckled, as he turned you around to be face to face with him.

His eyes were serious, "Why not?"

"Cuz no one touches my hair but me."

"But what about that time you was taking your braids out. I helped."

Your eyebrows raised, "Hell naw, you almost cut my hair!"

"But I didn't." He retaliates. "Come on bae, this is different."

You pull out of his grasp and get out of the bed, "Nah, you might use Nair in my hair instead of shampoo."

He gets up and follows you to the bathroom, "I ain't dumb, baby girl. Besides, how you think I be maintaining my dreads?"

Your arms fold against your chest as you scoff, "You go to that expensive Nigerian hairdresser in the city."

"Aight, but- I'm at your place almost everyday and you always doing something to your hair. You think I don't watch you sometimes?"

You open the vanity and take out a denman brush and four hair ties. "Well, if you watch me so much then tell me what I'd be doing next?"

"You gonna wash that shit out ya hair." He shrugged.

He wasn't completely wrong, but not completely right either. "Not co-"

He holds his hand up, "But, first you gonna put on your playlist- Lofi hip hop." His eyebrow raises, "Right?"

"...Right." You stood corrected.

Erik was always the type who took studying very seriously. Sure he'd goof around, but when it was time to have the knowledge and information, he could provide it, regardless if it was studying for tests or studying a person's behaviour. You were no exception, Erik knew you better than you knew yourself (is what you believed at times).

"So let me help you then. I hear you letting out these hefty ass sighs when you think I'm not around."

You roll your eyes, "That's cuz my arms get tired. Sighing helps."

"How bout you relax, let me help you so you don't gotta be sounding like Chewbacca."

"Boy, fuck you." You shake your head, hiding a laugh.

"Shiiiid, we can do that later." He smirks with lustful eyes.

You slap his chest as you pass by him, turning on the shower. "You know what?" You exit the bathroom leaving him with a big smile on his face.

"What you doing now?" He asks, still chuckling.

When you come back, you're dressed in a pair of old shorts and sports bra. "So your horny ass doesn't get any ideas."

"Hold up, you was about to get naked?"

"Yes, but I forgot your mind thinks about pussy ninety-nine point nine percent of the time." Before he could protest you stop him, "I'd rather not have nut in my hair." Your comment makes him burst into another fit of laughter.

"Well I ain't showering in my drawls." He says, stripping out of his clothes, his morning wood present.

You stare at him with disgust and point at the tent in his boxers, "This is what I'm talkin' about!"

"I swear I won't try nothing."

You raise your eyebrow.

"I swear on T'Challa's life."

You frowned at him, "You almost killed him, Erik."

"But I didn't." He quips with a smirk.

"You're stupid." You shake your head and step into the shower, adjusting the temperature because it had gotten cold. He follows you in (naked) and let's you throw the plastic bag and bonnet out of the shower. His hands find their way around your hips, "If you try anything, I'll cut your dreads off in your sleep."

He lets go of you, "Damn girl, was it really that serious?"

"It's always that serious." You hand him your favourite shampoo and conditioner, "After you wash my deep conditioner out, use this."

"I know what I'm doing, (y/n)." He takes the top section of your hair, gently unraveling it from it's twist.

"Uh-huh. We'll see about that."

He delicately rinses the section out, making sure to remove any banana seeds or aloe vera pieces (making a mental note to make fun of that later). He opens the bottle of shampoo, squeezing more than a dime size amount into his palm (because we all know that "dime-size" shit does not work) and works it into your hair starting from the ends, working his way up to your roots.

"Make sure you don't put it on my scalp though, becau-" You try to warn him, but he stops you.

"Baby."

"What?"

"I know what I'm doing, I promise."

You sigh, "Alright. But if you try anything I swear to God-"

"Relax." He pats your bum, "I got this. Trust me."

After he completes the section, he washes it out, getting all the suds out and grabs the conditioner. The water begins to get cold, so you adjust it again. He tells you to close your eyes, but you already did, even before the solution started to cascade down your forehead. He works the conditioner into your hair just like he did with the shampoo and twists it, attempting to make a bantu knot to keep it out the way. Of course it didn't stay so you hand him one of the hair ties and he ties it around your hair.

So far, you're quite impressed. You haven't said much, only when you thought he was about to do something incorrect, but you did trust Erik. The only reason you were so antsy with him being in your hair is due to childhood trauma of jealous hair dressers or you just being a young dumb kid who played with scissors. Let's not even talk about your straight hair phase during the ninth grade. You worked too hard for the condition of your hair to let anyone mess that up now.

When he finished the last section, he suggested a quickie, but you were adamant about not getting semen in your hair. He promised that he would avoid your it, but you were still skeptical. His hands have been roaming all over your body ever since, getting you hot.

"Come on baby girl, we gon' be standing here doing nothing."

You were glaring at him, "I already told yo-"

"Just the tip."

"As if you know what that means." You roll your eyes.

He knows you're right, just the tip does not exist in his book. "Then just a quickie. Nothing more, nothing less." He caresses your hips.

"Fine, but that's it cuz you still gotta comb my hair out." You pull off your shorts.

"I gotcha, don't worry." He turns you around and lifts you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as he slides his fingers down in between your folds. His deft fingers work into your core, pumping in and out at a slow pace.

"A quickie, Erik." You remind him with panting breaths.

"Yeah, yeah." He slides his fingers out and lifts them in front of your mouth. "Taste."

And so you do. He watches you suck his digits, but you recoiled at the chemical taste of your shampoo and conditioner. "Eugh! Erik, you still got some on your fingers!"

"Oh shit, my bad." He runs his fingers under the falling water. "Try again?"

"No, just stick it in." You demand.

He presses your back against the cold tile, causing your body to shudder as he guides himself into your core. You both let out a moan and you close your eyes as he rocks his hips into yours. Your nails dig into his back as he thrusts into you, getting deeper each time.

"Ohhh, Erik." You sigh.

Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, as he pumps into you. You were sure this looked very steamy and romantic, sexy enough for TV or a movie even.

"You like that, huh?"

"Mhmmm, ohhh."

It was all great until the water suddenly went extremely cold, you yelp loudly and he lets out an animalistic sound due to the water directly hitting him. He almost loses his footing, and you have another mini heart attack, prepared for your life to end.

"Oh my God!" You cling onto his body extremely tight, feeling your heart beating in your throat.

"It's aight, I gotchu." He pants and adjusts the water back to a warm setting. "Fuck, you need to switch apartments, this shit is whack. Can't even fuck in the shower in peace."

You try to get off, but he holds you in place. His dick throbs inside of you, and it feels harder than before.

"Where you going?"

"Nah, I almost met the Lord. Put me down, Erik."

"Hold up, we ain't even finished."

"N- Ohhhhh!" You bury your face into his neck as he thrusts into your at an incredibly ridiculous speed, "Fuuuhhh, Erik!" Your nails dug into his biceps.

"J-just a b-bit more." He grunts, hitting you deep in your most sensitive spot.

You already hit your climax, coating him with your warm fluids. He then slows down and with three deep thrusts he pulls out and sets you down, releasing onto your stomach.

"Whew, shit." He sighs, content plastered on his face. "Now let's hurry up, cuz if ya shower do that again, your landlord is getting shot." You almost forgot that there was still conditioner in your hair. You were ready to get out, legs shaky with that post-sex feeling.

"Don't shoot my landlord, Erik." You laughed at him. He smiled, but he was very serious.

He started to comb out the knots from your hair, ends to roots, like he wasn't just all up in your guts. Erik made sex seem like nothing, but then there was you, barely able to last two rounds with him. Tapping out was never an option, you'd be too weak to do that by time he was done with you.

He had fantastic dick. Period.

"So you still gon' cut my dreads?" He asks, washing out the conditioner from your hair.

"Mmh... I dunno."

He twists the section back up, and pulls the hair tie off of his wrist, wrapping it around your hair. "But you know if you cut my hair I might not be able to dick you down like that. You know the story of Samson?"

You scoffed, "Erik, do not use an Israelite warrior to justify your dick."

"But it's true." He begins on the next section.

"Whatever, E." You laugh.

By time he's done all four sections, his hands are running through your scalp giving you the best massage you could ever ask for. Moans escaped your lips unintentionally.

"Aye, you gotta stop making them sounds, shorty."

"What are you talking about?"

"You moaning and shit, making my dick hard again."

"Boy, if you don't get ya horny ass on." You slap his chest, turn off the pipe right before the water got cold again and step out of the shower.

He follows you out, "So no round two?"

You roll your eyes at him through the mirror as you fix a towel turban around your wet hair, "I gotta do my hair, you're delaying me!"

"Aight shit, my bad." He holds his hands up in defence.

"Horny ass..." You mumble under your breath, grabbing your towel.

So that was part one! I hope you enjoyed!

I know everyone's hair care routine is different and mine is usually very simple. I switch it up a bit here and there. Oh yeah, that deep conditioner ingredient mix I listed at the very beginning is what I actually use (when I'm in the mood to make it) and it works very well. I'm one of the lucky gals whose hair/scalp doesn't mind coconut oil, and my hair loves bananas too.

Happy Holidays! Thanks for reading!

(Start/Finish: December 24, 2018)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

40 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

I cannot stop thinking about this… this man could really flip me like some pancakes if he wanted to 😳

like it was nothing! lmao. how?

via

260 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

I’m so happy Tumblr put the damn profile back on the bottom instead of chucking it at the top in the corner like it wasn’t important, tf.

1 note · View note

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

Lab Rat

This was requested by Brunz_HooliganAngel (thank you!)

Enjoy!

Warnings: Implied smut

Relationship: Erik x Lab Assistant Reader

Mere moments ago, you and Shuri were working on new upgrades for T'Challa's suit as it inflicted damage from a previous battle, but that was cut short as soon as the king bursted into the laboratory, staggering with the intruder hunched over his shoulder.

Now, you're both trying to save the man who tried to kill T'Challa and exploit Wakanda.

"Shuri, he's not breathing!" Your fingers felt underneath the previous king's nose, in search for air flow.

You watch the teenager grab a respirator from a cabinet and rush over, connecting it to his face. "Brother, did you stabilize him?"

"Yes." T'Challa stood five feet away from the operating table, his usual peaceful expression was replaced with a grim one.

Your hand moved to his neck, checking for a pulse. "His pulse is weak." His face was visibly becoming more pale, his scarred chest barely moving. "We need to start right no-"

A cripplingly strong hand gripped your wrist, almost subduing you to your knees. He stumbled off the bed with a pained grunt, pinning you down in his place. For someone who was dying, he was still incredibly strong. The look on his face was terrifying, murderous even.

"The fuck y'all doin' to me, huh!?" He snarled, his hand digging into your flesh.

You struggled to free yourself from his grasp. T'Challa ran over, but was knocked across the room. Shuri knew better than to run at a mad man with adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"I'll kill all of y- Argh!" He jolted forward, and reached for the object that had just stabbed him in his back. Instantly, his grip loosened and you were able to get away before his body collapsed.

"Are you alright?" Shuri asked, placing the tranquilizer gun down.

"Yeah, I-I'm alright." You lied. Your heart was beating rapidly, and you were sure he might've broken a bone or two in your wrist. That could be treated later, right now you had to focus.

"We must get to work right away."

You nodded, shaking off your nerves. Neither of you were to thrilled about this, after what he had done to Wakanda and so many people, but T'Challa had requested for this. At the end of the day, Killmonger was still a human being who made mistakes just like everyone else.

In less than two hours, the surgery was completed and Killmonger was brought into another room (with high security) to heal and rest.

Shuri was wrapping a cast around your left wrist. During the surgery, she noticed you flinch a couple of times when you had to use it.

"I hope T'Challa knows what he's doing." Shuri said absentmindedly.

"Me too." You agreed, staring at the cast. It was not a traditional cast, rather it was less bulky, but even more affective.

"Are you sure you want to watch him?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

Erik was woken up by delicate hands running over his chest. His eyes shot open to the culprit, fixing his bandages. You hadn't noticed his stare as you adjusted the wrap, making it tight enough so it wouldn't come apart.

He remembered seeing your face when he was woken up a while back, but his mind was not in the right space. This time, he was calm and took every second to admire your beauty.

"How long was I out for?" His raspy voice came at you causing you to jump.

You pull back and collect your composure, not making any eye contact. "About day or two."

He nods his head as you walk to the garbage, throwing out the old bandages, his eyes lingered on your backside. "So what, you my nurse or somethin'?"

You wash your hands, "You could say that."

He noticed your lack of a Wakanda accent he was so use to hearing during his time as the king. "Where you from?"

"What do you mean? I'm Wakandan." You dry your hands and finally turn around making eye contact. His eyes were filled with both curiosity and danger. Of course if he tried anything, the Dora Milaje outside would be there to help you. That, or you could punch him in his stab wound, it would cripple him for sure.

"Nah, that ain't no Wakandan accent, ma. You're just like me, American."

"I am nothing like you, intruder." You snapped, in which he chuckled.

"Then tell me what you are." He folded his arms across his chest, flinching slightly, but you noticed.

"I don't need to answer to you." You grab your purse and head towards the exit, "I'll be back in a few hours to check on you. Don't do anything stupid."

He only responds with a smirk, placing his arms behind his head.

The following day, you were attending to Erik just as before.

"I don't get it..." He said, eyes watching your hands as they rewrapped the bandages.

"You don't get what?"

"Why I'm still here." His voice was flat as he spoke.

You looked into his eyes, "Honestly, I don't get it either. You should've been dead."

The left corner of his mouth tugged upwards, "As cold as that is, you right."

"You should really thank T'Challa." He scoffed at that, "Because if you left it up to the princess, me or anyone else we would not be having this conversation right now." You finished wrapping the bandage, making a mental note to get some more. His large, muscular frame used up a lot.

"You know what I also don't get..."

"What?"

"You say you'd side to kill me, but here you are tending to my wounds and shit..." You paused for a second, avoiding any eye contact, "It's just you and me. If you wanted to kill me, you could've easily done that... But you didn't. Why not?"

He was right. Based on the reputation he has with everyone, you could easily kill him and no one would reprimand you for it... They would probably throw a celebration. But word hasn't got out that the ferocious Killmonger is still alive and being tended to.

"Like I said, intruder. I am nothing like you. Killing is not something we do." You began to take your leave, "T'Challa wants to help you, he sees something in you that none of us do." The sass in your tone intrigued him.

As the door closed, you could hear Killmonger laughing. You couldn't tell if it was genuine or sarcastic.

The following weeks were hectic. There was an uproar when the kingdom found out Killmonger was still alive and healing up. But T'Challa being the great leader he is, promised everyone that everything would be fine. That would start with rebuilding Killmonger through the best therapist in all of Wakanda. From what you heard, it was very shaky in the beginning, but things started to get better. He would soon have some freedom, but trust had to be gained.

Within those weeks that you tended to Erik, you found yourself growing closer to him. Even though you really didn't want to, he kept drawing you in like bait. It was kind of scary, you went from opposing the guy, to actually feeling sympathy for him.

In the beginning, you would tend to his wounds as quickly as possible, answer a few questions and then leave. Now, you were sitting by his bedside, having a normal conversation with him.

"I did that?" He gently took your hand into his large ones.

The cast was still on your wrist, turns out he did more than just fracture the bone. A week of repair turned into two months instead, and your hand was still not fully healed.

"Yeah." You replied, watching as his brought your hand up to his lips. You were shocked when he placed a kiss on it.

"I'm sorry."

"Sure..." You pulled your hand away and got up, "Please make sure you're taking your meds."

"Aight, ma." He gave you a small wave as you left.

Another month had passed and Erik had proven himself. Though he still had his moments, he gained trust within the palace, and he even built a relationship with the royal family. Especially with Shuri.

"Are you sure you don't need the brace anymore?" Shuri asked, while pouring liquid vibranium into a test tube.

You stretched your fingers as you slipped a glove on, "Yeah, I'm good."

Today, you both were working on improving the maglev train system. The fight T'Challa and Erik had down there somehow disrupted the smooth flow.

"Of course those two idiots had to ruin it. This design was not easy." Shuri let out a frustrated sigh. "...But I am grateful that brother saved me."

"Well hopefully we won't have to fix it again." You said, adding a binding agent to the vibranium solution.

"Who you callin' an idiot?" Erik's voice travelled through the room before he was visible.

"You, idiot." She said again and you giggled.

"Whatever." Then he looked at you, "I'll just talk to someone who actually likes me."

You raised an eyebrow, "Who said I like you?"

He made a fake shocked expression, "Damn ma, I'm hurt."

"So what brings you here anyway?" Shuri voiced.

"Am I not allowed to visit or somethin'?"

"Of course you can, but knowing you that's not the only reason why you are here."

"I don't want nothin', I swear." He held his hands up in defence.

He let the two of you work in peace, observing from a distance as you mixed and pieced together different elements. Occasionally the two would pick fun at each other and sometimes you were dragged into the mix.

His presence often made you nervous though, and it caused you to make mistakes. You almost blew up half of the lab, but luckily Shuri was there to stop you before anything happened.

"I'm gonna head to bed now, goodnight." You said to the cousins, placing your lab coat on a rack.

"Goodnight." They both said at the same time, watching you leave.

Shuri turned to face Erik, "So..."

"So what?" He questioned.

"You like her don't you."

Erik made a puzzled expression, "What? Nah."

"Come on cousin, don't lie to me..."

"I'm not..."

"..."

"You're bold enough to try and take down an entire country, but you're running from your emotions? Pathetic." She scoffed at him.

"Well damn, Shuri. Don't call me out like that." Her words actually got to him.

"I am just being honest." She hung her lab coat up as well, "So, what is the issue?"

"I uh... Need your advice." He admitted.

"For what?"

"I'm tryna talk to shorty, but I don't think she really feeling me like that."

As hard as she tried, Shuri could not contain her laughter causing Erik to frown.

"Really?" He said in an unamused tone.

"Wow. You know how to do everything, but talk to a woman?"

"That's a lie, of course I know how to talk to women."

Which was true, he did know exactly how. But Erik did not want to take his usual approach with you. Back in America, Erik never wanted a real relationship with another woman, he used them as pawns or just for his own pleasure. The closest he got to a 'boyfriend-girlfriend' relationship was with Linda, but she was there for temporary use like the others.

"The thing is... I ain't tryna come off the way I use to. I did some shit and I regret it."

"Is that so?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I don't wanna hurt her the way I did with the other females."

"If I'm not mistaken, you broke her wrist..."

Shuri was ruthless, he thought to himself. "I was in a panic, I could literally see the light. You would be the same if you was talkin' to Bast then all of a sudden pulled back into reality."

He was right. Shuri just silently listened to all that he was saying.

"And plus... A broken wrist ain't even that bad compared to the other stuff I did. I used, cheated... Killed." He sighed, "Look, I don't wanna scare her away or nothin', she's cool."

"Just don't treat her as an object for your own use, be sweet to her. Show her that you appreciate her." Shuri listed other tips for Erik and he listened to every word. "Don't overthink it."

"Gotcha. Thanks cuz." He said and she nodded.

They walked to the exit of the lab, but Shuri stopped him before they parted ways.

"Oh and one last thing."

"Wassup?"

"Do not hurt her, and if you do, your days will be numbered."

Erik was taken aback by the seriousness in her tone. Never has he seen that side of her, not even when he almost killed her.

"Damn, I won't." He rubbed the back on his neck, avoiding eye contact.

"Good." And just like that, the content teenager returned.

There were nights where you stayed up, thinking about Erik. You tried and tried to get him out of your mind, but the harder you tried, the more he kept coming up. In the beginning, you were hostile towards him, spare for you nursing him back to health. Now, he became a dear friend to you. One that you would converse with very often. The more you were around him, the more your feelings grew for him.

It was almost the same for him. Erik stayed up with you running through his mind, but he let it happen. When he was healing from his wounds, he wanted you to resign, but you were following your orders that were given by T'Challa. The more you stuck around to help, the more he found the will to live and he hated it.

Why couldn't they just let me die in peace...

Erik strolled through the dimly lit palace, deciding that he wasn't getting any sleep. The balcony door was left open and he the cool breeze from the midnight air brushed over his bare chest, not phasing him. It was nice, considering he was burning up from the heatwave earlier.

When he got closer, he noticed your figure standing by the ledge. Erik was well aware of how silently he could move and that would frighten any unsuspecting target, but he made it clear that he didn't want to scare you off, so he tapped on the glass before stepping in.

"Yo." He greeted, observing your outfit. The red satin nightgown almost had him drooling as it fit your frame so perfectly. You had no makeup on and your hair was put up in one. Your natural beauty was very pleasing to him.

"Hey, Erik." You smiled at him, taking note of how well the scar on his chest healed up before returning your gaze back into the night sky.

He rested his arms against the rail, "So why you up here all alone?"

"I couldn't sleep, and I like to come here to think."

He nodded and looked into the sky, "My pop's was right, it's beautiful."

You looked at him, the glow of the moon made him look ethereal. Angelic even. "It really is. They say Wakanda is one of the few places where you can still see a sea of stars over the city."

He glanced at you from his peripherals as you spoke about the starry sky. The both of you marinated in the silence until he found the wits to speak up.

"Do you trust me?"

You turned to face him, though his gaze remained in the sky. "Why do you ask?"

"Because out of all these people, you the only one that's really been helping me. If it weren't for you, I probably woulda been killed off."

Your eyebrow raised, "That was thanks to King T'Challa actually. Shuri and I were surprised when he hauled you into the lab."

He turned to look at you, there was an unusual sadness in his eyes, "Nah. I told you, you had every opportunity to sabotage my healing process. You coulda slipped something into my meds, suffocated me with a pillow while I was sleep, anything." He sighed, "And even though I was bein' hard on you, you still attended to me... Why?"

You thought for a moment. "...Because I have a conscience. T'Challa saw something in you that no one did, and as time moved on I think I started to see it too. Even if you were made to be a weapon, at the end of the day, you still are a human being. Everyone deserves a second chance."

A cool breeze brushed against your skin, causing goosebumps to form all over your arms. Erik took notice and decided to share his body heat with you. Your back rested against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. He felt like a blanket, but with bumpy flesh and ripped muscles.

"What are you doin' to me girl?" The timbre in his voice dropped.

"I-I don't know what you mean." The proximity made your nerves spike again.

"I know you feel it." His heart was beating incredibly fast, and you did notice his pupils were dilated, but at first you assumed it was due to the dark.

"A-are you alright? Your heart is beating pretty fast."

He turned you to face him, taking your hand and placing it against his chest, "That's cuz of you... Look, I ain't use to none of this sappy shit, but I'm feelin' you, girl."

You slowly looked into his eyes, which were so focused on you.

"I ain't never felt like this before and it's scarin' the shit outta me, but I'm hoping that you're willing to give me a chance... Like you always do."

You had no words, shocked that this man was capable of any other emotion than anger. But even more surprising was the fact that he was catching feelings for you, and you were the same.

"Come on, say something..." He sounded so desperate, it almost made you want to tear up.

Instead of responding, you pulled him in for a kiss. He was surprised at first, but soon followed, allowing the kiss to become more passionate. You held onto his cheeks and one of his hands went behind your neck and the other was placed onto your hip to deepen the kiss.

When you both finally pulled apart, out of breath, he had a smile and you were blushing. There was nothing more to be said as you guided him to your room. You were always better at showing rather than telling.

And at least you both were able to sleep good; exhausted bodies and peaceful minds.

I really hope this lived up to the request expectations, this really took me a while to write because I've been lacking creative juice once again, smh.

But I hope you all enjoyed! (And no, I didn't spend 10 days writing this, I took breaks to see if I could become inspired along the way lol)

(Start/Finish: February 4-14, 2018)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

64 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

Scars

Finding out what Erik's scars mean. I think I would be horrified if he revealed the truth to me. Often the stories I've read show the reader as unafraid or alarmed by the markings on his body, but lets be honest... That's pretty damn scary.

I been writing Erik in a bad light so here's my "making-up" for it. <-- (Post-writing: That is a lie)

Warnings: Angst

Relationship: Erik x Reader (Dating)

You think you'd know everything about a man, but one phrase could change that in an instant.

You were at Erik's apartment, eating plantain chips from his bar stool while watching reruns of Fresh Prince. If it wasn't this show, then it was a documentary on a historic black leader or something on the sports network because he always left it on.

Erik had engaged furthering your friendship into a dating relationship with him about two months ago and within that time he really opened up to you. Or so you thought.

You hadn't noticed him stroll out of the bedroom, too busy laughing at Jazz getting tossed out of the Banks' mansion by Uncle Phil.

He was dressed down in a black pair of basketball shorts and a black wife beater with his signature chain that had your legs clenching the second you made eye contact with him.

This was usually his outfit when he was ready haul you over his shoulder and toss you on the couch, pin you against the wall, or have you mount him on his king sized bed, but the look in his eyes was saying otherwise.

There was no fire, no dominance or excitement that he often possessed, just guilt. It made you nervous.

"What's up, E?" You leaned back into his chest as his arms wrapped around your torso. "You look... Upset."

"Aye, we gotta talk about something."

"You're making me nervous."

He rotated the bar stool and looked you dead in the eyes. Now that you could get a closer look, something else was there... Fear maybe?

"Are you seeing someone else?" You blatantly ask, no jealousy or anger in your tone, just genuine curiosity.

He narrowed an eyebrow, "What? Hell nah, I already told you how I feel about you. I wouldn't do anything to screw that up, especially not for a quick nut."

Well that gets rid of that anxiety. Erik was honest, you can't recall a time he'd lie to you. Even if it took a while for some of the things he said to fall into place, they'd always end up being true.

"Look, baby... I ain't been a hundred with you."

You raised an eyebrow. "And what do you mean by that?"

He pulled off his shirt, giving you a lovely view of his muscular, broad, scarred chest. You lifted your hand and ran your fingers over the keloids on his left pectoral muscle.

"I don't think I ever told you the real meaning of these." He began, staring at your delicate hand.

You shook your head, remembering how he would brush it off or explain it was cultural. "Well considering your Wakandan background, and hotep nature it only made sense... Right?" You joked in hopes to lighten the atmosphere.

He stayed silent, as you raised your head to meet his eyes.

"I think my only real question was, why so many?"

It took Erik forever to come clean about his scars to you. You were not in favour of taking life away on any level. He knew that.

You knew about Erik's past; what happened to his parents, how it was moving through the system, going to MIT and a bit about the military. But he never got into detail about that.

Erik didn't want to lose you over his own choices, you were the most stable, and consistent person in his life. You were like the missing piece, as he lacked love, care and a genuine friendship, but you brought that all to him. If he lost you now, he wouldn't know what to do.

He placed his hand over yours, right above his rapidly beating heart.

"I didn't do this to be cultural..."

A million possible answers raced through your mind.

Was it by habit? A lost bet? Is scarification a kink that you never knew about? Did someone force him to do it?

Erik watched the gears in your mind turn before deciding to come clean.

"Each one is for a kill." He finally admitted, his voice was softer than you ever heard before.

You blankly stared into his eyes, still denying what he could possibly mean. "Wh-what? Like an insect or a- a..."

"A life I've taken. A human life."

Your hand slowly fell down to your side as your eyes traced over each scar decorating his torso and arms.

"A h-hu-human... Erik th-that's gotta be a joke... There's way too many." You slid out of the chair, the plantain chips and whatever you had for breakfast was rising out of your stomach into your throat.

He shook his head and gave you an apologetic look.

"N-no..." Your heart was pounding as hard as his. Those scars, those marks of murder... The same ones that rubbed against your chest as he made love to you the night before, the same ones that you loved to run your fingers across...

The look in his eyes told you that he was far from joking. He lifted his arm towards you, but you dodged it and backed away from him all the way to the front door. Not a word was exchanged between the two of you the entire time, just stares of shock and dismay.

It was at least a week before you saw Erik again. He sent you a text on the first day, the typical apology and wanting to explain. But you blocked his number for the time being, recollecting your thoughts and trying to process the situation at hand.

You really loved Erik, truly. But this was news and a huge surprise. Of course you never really looked into the meaning of cultural scars, they had different meanings and they were rare in North America outside of indigenous populations.

You were angry, upset, and a bit scared. There was just so many!

Your fear of becoming another marking on his body was just an irrational thought. He's never lashed out at you or done anything where you'd fear for your safety. But knowing how many bodies he has under his belt and not knowing how he went about executing them was what really unsettled you.

Maybe him explaining himself would be a form a closure. If you continued the way you were now you would lose your mind at the many thoughts running rampant through your brain.

So, you unblocked his number and decided you were ready for answers. No beating around the bush, just flat out transparency.

Erik looked a mess when he opened the door to see you for the first time in what felt so long to him. He looked exhausted and his dreads were pointing in every direction. You felt bad, not knowing what your absence did to him.

He stepped aside anyway and allowed you in.

There were different bottles of alcohol scattered around every surface, a fresh blunt resting in an ash tray on the coffee table and his usually stocked kitchen appeared much more empty than normal.

You felt bad for him, honestly. You knew how much you meant to him, but you just needed that time to process everything. It wouldn't hurt to have at least sent him a message, but why would a killer be so hurt about you leaving.

Pushing those thoughts away, you took a seat on the black leather sofa and he sat opposite to you, staring at you with sad eyes.

"So I leave and this is what you do? Drink yourself into oblivion?"

"I thought you was gone for good."

You sighed, "I would never leave you, E."

"But you did." He scoffed.

"I just needed some time... Time to think and process everything." You pulled the drawstrings of your hoodie, "Each scar on your body represents a life that was taken. What the hell was I suppose to do? Smile and be okay with it because it's you?"

"Nah, I wouldn't expect that from no one." Anyone who was a rational human being anyway.

"I'm not gonna pretend I'm okay with this Erik... I'm willing to almost look past it. It's gonna take some time, but imma try."

A small smirk appeared on his lips.

"I just need you to explain to me... Why? Why did you do it?"

"I had my reasons... Some was for military, others was niggas who thought they could disrespect... And uhh... I think the worst ones are innocent folks who got caught in the crossfire." He admitted.

Your heart ached for the poor civilians whose lives were taken, but at least he acknowledged them.

You both sat in silence for a while, just taking in the moment of honesty. Sure you were not happy about the scars meaning it was a life that he taken from someone, but you suppose what might be barbaric and savage to you was only a job or a duty that someone else has to serve. Nothing is truly right, and nothing is truly wrong. Perception is key.

You placed a hand on his knee and looked him in the eyes, "I'll figure it out, I love you and care about you. I just need to think on this, okay? Just a bit more time."

He frowned, "You breaking up with me?"

This only made you chuckle, "You hadn't even asked me to be your girlfriend, Erik."

You could see him internally face palming.

"All I'm saying is give me some more time and space to think, okay? I don't want to be scared and I don't not want to know how to approach the situation with you." You sighed and pulled your hand back, "I don't want us to be walking on egg shells, I want full honesty and transparency, that's all."

Erik nodded his head, understanding that it was a lot to take in all at once anyway. He understood that you needed time to process what was going on and that week was just out of quick thinking, probably due to fear.

"I love you too." He stated, pecking your lips. "Don't take too long though."

Dammit, I did it again. *face-palms* It was suppose to be semi-happy, semi-dramatic, but I went and made it angst.

I think it's a good thing though, because idk how many people can morally ignore the fact that each one of his scars is a body above his belt. That's insane. I don't think I'd be compelled to run my fingers over each one after learning their true meaning lol.

(Start/Finish: November 4, 2019)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

21 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

Hey y’all, does anyone know the story where Erik is the brother of the reader’s best friend? I believe the reader and friend have a sleepover and there’s some smut involved (Erik x reader).

It crossed my mind a few days ago and I just cannot remember what it was called, but I do remember I really enjoyed it.

Help me out plz 😅

#killmonger x reader #black reader #killmonger fic

6 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

Lust and Temptation

I know I said that I was on my writing hiatus, but a wave of inspiration hit me. I was in my room jamming to some Kirk Franklin when the idea came to me. Yes you can turn up to gospel, don't @ me.

This is going to be a religious fanfic (with a bit of blasphemy), if you're not Christian and/or don't believe in God you can still read this story, BUT! Do not leave any comments that would be disrespectful to my beliefs. If you do leave anything disrespectful: Delete and mute :) You are not obligated to read this story, it's your choice.

And also I'm gonna dive a little more further, beyond what is openly taught. The worldly doctrine as it is called because I'm sure Erik would be that type of guy.

~ Post Black Panther ~

Warnings: Smut (takes a while for it to happen btw), Angst (a bit), A tad of deep stuff (religion wise)

Relationship: Erik x Christian Reader

Sunday morning, you dreaded it as a child, but now it was a lot more tolerable. It was the same thing every week; wake up at ten, use the bathroom, shower, brush your teeth, eat breakfast, get dressed into your Sunday best and head out to church to catch the twelve o'clock service.

As a child your routine was fairly the same, except you had to wake up much earlier and attend all three services. Why? Because you're the pastors daughter. The only thing you genuinely enjoyed about church was the singing. You always had the ability to sing, but you were too young to join the choir. You loved the Lord with all your heart too, but you hated sitting down for hours listening to your father preach. He had a nice voice, but you could only listen to the same thing for so long.

The memories of your mother scolding you for fidgeting too much or asking to leave early made a smile grace your face as you drove down the relatively and empty highway.

It was warm out, and knowing that, the A/C would be blasting so you decided to wear a long sleeve cream coloured blouse that was tucked inside of a long black body con maxi skirt (appropriate enough for church) and black stilettos. You paired the outfit with gold accessories and light makeup.

One of the perks of being the pastors daughter included getting close parking, and you always took your spot on the right side of your father's white Lexus RX. Locking your car door, you made your way to the front doors being held by two young boys that you teach after the singing is completed.

"Good afternoon, Miss (Y/N)." They both said in unison.

"Good afternoon boys, how was your vacation?" They were away for two weeks, you remember how happy they were when they told you they'd be traveling out of the country for the first time.

"So fun!" The shorter one missing his two front teeth, Anthony, enthused.

"Yeah, we got to swim in the ocean!" Jacob matched his brother's excitement.

"Oh really? That's so cool!"

You allowed them to chat your ears off about their vacation to the Bahamas while they continued to hold the doors. Anthony was about to tell you about the shark he saw until your mother spotted you.

"Hey, baby. How are you?" The familiar scent of Estée Lauder whiffed through your nose as she pulled you into a hug.

"Hi Mom, I'm good." You waved to the boys as you walked with her towards the nave, "How's dad?" You greeted the church brothers and sisters who were setting up the equipment and rehearsing before the service started.

"The same, of course." She rolled her eyes and you chuckled.

"There's my star! Come here." Your father came down the stage and gave you a bear hug.

"Hey, Dad." Your voice was muffled into his shoulder. You took the handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his shiny forehead. "You're sweating." You said and placed it back into the pocket.

"It's a great service. Speaking of which, why did you stop coming to all three? We could really use your voice for all of em. Sister Eva is great, but you know how to get the crowd going."

You thanked him, and avoided answering the question truthfully.

"(Y/n), let's get you set up." One of the technicians pulled you to the stage and gave you your usual equipment for singing.

There were about ten minutes before the service was going to start so you quickly rehersed with the band and before you knew it people started filling into the space. Familiar members of the church gathered in, sliding into the seats and making room for others. You spotted a few of your church friends and gave them a little wave.

They would often tease you for being a good girl. The pastor's daughter usually got a bad rep. Them being the ones to do it all; sex, drugs, smoking, tattoos, etc. But you never found the need to do any of that. The only "rebellious" thing you've done was get your nose pierced. Your dad hated it (and he still does), but your mother was a lot more lenient.

"Good afternoon everyone." You greeted the congregation with a smile, and they replied with a drowsy response. "I said good afternoon, everyone!" You had more enthusiasm in your voice this time, and they also did. "Much better. Now has God been good to you?"

"Yes!"

"And has he provided for you? Loved you unconditionally?"

"Yes!"

"He is great, ain't He?"

"Amen!" Cheers and applauds sounded the room.

"Yes, amen. Now I wanted to start off with an upbeat song. Let's get everyone up on your feet and clap your hands like this."

The congregation stood to their feet and followed your pace of claps. The band started playing their version of Kirk Franklin's, Looking For You. You allowed them to play the intro and then you and the choir joined in.

I've been down so long

I've been hurt for so long

There were times I thought I'd never see the break of day

It was hard for me to see your plan for me

And I tried to believe surely it won't last always

You enjoyed seeing everyone getting in tune with their souls through the music, parents were dancing with babies and children on their hips, little kids were jumping up and down. This was the best song to get everyone moving and ready to celebrate their love for the Lord. It almost caught you off guard when you noticed someone was still seated, it was hard to see him clearly because he was in the far back, but you knew that this was his first time coming to this church. He had a very distinct look, dreads, and a large frame. You thought maybe he was just one of those people who stopped by to hear a few words then leave, but he was dressed in his Sunday best, just like everyone else. He also looked like he had full intentions to stay.

You continued to sing your heart out, hyping the crowd up with reminders of why God is so good, and them replying amen. You danced and let the music flow through your body. Yup, this was the best thing about church.

Your voice was warm and welcoming, your energy was refreshing, your beauty was tranquilizing to him and he wanted to get to know you. He had the right intentions coming into the building, but seeing you lit a spark in him that he tried to suppress.

The song came to an end, and he hadn't realized. The thunders of applauds and praises pulled him out of his trance, and he soon joined in.

"Amen. You know what my favourite part about church is? The singing, not only because God blessed me with this voice, but because it touches my soul. Psalms 95:1 says 'Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation'."

"Amen!"

"Glory be to God, and we lift our hands to you. We sing our praises to you! Every praise, is to you oh Lord." That was the cue for the band to get into the next song, Every Praise. You once again set the tempo for the sways and the congregation followed.

Every praise is to our God

Every word of worship with one accord

Every praise every praise is to our God

Sing hallelujah to our God

Glory hallelujah is due our God

Every praise every praise is to our God

He decided to sit still, but tapped his feet to the beat of the song, his hands folded in his lap. He was so enamoured by you, that he hadn't noticed when a little girl rested her hands onto his knee. He looked down at the brown skinned baby, no older than two he assumed. She had two little puffs secured with bow clips, and a pink and white dress with matching shoes. She pushed herself off of his knee and smiled at him, her little hand waving to him. He smiled at her until she was pulled away.

"Sorry about that." A younger looking lady said, "My baby likes to meet everyone." She was a beautiful lady with dark skin, coily tresses fixed into a puff and pearly white teeth.

"No problem." He simply replied with the same smile he gave the little girl.

When she returned to her spot, which was only a seat away from him, he noticed that she wasn't with a man. He predicted that she was a young single mother, and he could tell she was somewhat stressed out. His training gave him the ability to read people with ease, and his past self had a knack for "fixing" stressed out women. He was so close to getting out of his seat and reverting back to his old ways, but that was why he was here in the first place so he decided to stay seated and listen to your voice.

"I have another verse for y'all. Ephesians 5:19, 'Speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord'." You recited. "I have one more song before I let my father take over. This one always gets me emotional." The band once again started up with a softer melody. "Everyone just lift your hearts and voices as you sing with me."

The graceful rhythm of Healer flowed through the room and everyone calmed down, getting in tune with themselves and their saviour, you included.

You hold my every moment

You calm my raging seas

You walk with me through fireand heal all my disease

You closed your eyes while singing, swaying to the beat. The choir handled majority of the song while you let it resonate in your heart. You could feel tears welling into your eyes.

Nothing is impossible for You

Nothing is impossible

Nothing is impossible for You

You hold my world in Your hands

He could feel the depth in your voice, the emotion wrapped around him, he was almost driven to tears. He had never seen anything so beautiful, so dedicated, so pure and loving. Your voice was more than enough proof for him. He was a sinner and he knew he would corrupt you, but you were like a lure, pulling him in.

"Amen!" Your voice called out, as the song came to a close. He was surprised that your voice sounded so normal, not a crack present. Had you not said anything, anyone would've been convinced that you were crying, but your voice had masked that very well. "Thank you everyone, thank you." Applauds filled the room, he was surprised to find himself clapping as well. You walked off the stage, your father giving you another hug just before you got to your seat.

"Amen indeed," He began. "My daughter everyone!" He clapped and the congregation joined in again. You smiled as your mother kissed your temple, stating how beautiful you sounded. It always felt good, not the applauds and recognition from everyone, but being able to use your talent to praise God and to be able to allow people to do the same whether they could sing or not.

Today's lesson was about forgiveness and acceptance.

"Now I want y'all to think. And think real good." Your father eyed the crowd, "Are y'all holding a grudge against someone?"

Some folks shook their heads, others remained silent. He was one of them who remained silent.

"Why? Maybe they've wronged you, hurt you, lied on you, stole from you. But you know what, you know who doesn't hold a grudge... The Father. In fact, He loves you all so much that He sent His only son to die on the cross for all of our sins. Imagine that."

He listened carefully to the pastors words, taking in everything like a sponge. You on the other hand had this speech given to you a thousand times, you could probably teach this lesson if you wanted to. Holding grudges was not natural to you, so you never did. You always forgave and forgot, no matter the circumstance.

Usually you were sent off to teach the younger kids their own lesson, but another one of the members allowed you to take this Sunday off and took your place instead.

The lesson continued for an hour and church had finally started coming to it's end.

"I would like to close this off with a prayer before you all leave. Anyone who needs a special prayer is more than welcome to stay behind. Please join your hands together as we say this prayer."

He was hesitant to hold hands with any stranger, but an old lady (with a surprisingly strong grip) to his left and the single mother to his right held his hands and already had their heads bowed. He followed suit and listened to the prayer that the pastor had recited.

"I pray you all have a blessed week, and we'll see you again next Sunday."

You were required to stay behind, not that you minded, but you were apart of the church crew. Leaving so soon would seem inappropriate.

A few people made their way down to the front to receive an extra prayer, he was going to leave, but he saw you standing off to the side waiting for anyone to come by.

Of course he wasn't nervous to greet you, women were so easy when it came to him.

"Bye, Sister Mary. See you next Sunday." You waved to the older lady as she made her way out, smiling at him as he made his way over to you.

He stood in front of you, towering over you.

"Hello." You greeted him. This was the same man you saw seated when you first opened the service.

"Hey." He replied with a smirk.

"What's your name, stranger?"

"Erik."

"I'm (y/n), nice to meet you. I don't think I've ever seen you in this church before."

"Nah, I'm new. It's actually my first day here."

"Oh lovely, so I guess you're going to be joining us from now on?"

He was very hesitant to reply and you had already figured out he was one of the lost as our father would describe them. People trying to find God again after hardship. He did look quite rough on the edges, handsome though.

"That's alright, but I do hope you consider. Now what type of blessings are you in need of today?"

"I'm looking for peace." His voice was very gentle as he explained.

You held your hands out to Erik, "Aren't we all." You smiled at him as he placed his calloused hands into yours. This alone told you he's been through more than you could ever imagine. You began to pray for him, asking God to bring peace and security to his heart.

Like your singing, there was so much passion and sincerity in every word you spoke. He found it strange that someone he'd never met before could actually lend out their time to wish him all the best through the form of prayer. It was odd, the feeling in his heart was warm. Not something he was use to.

"Erik?" He was staring so deeply at you, it was like he was in a trance. "Erik?" You called again.

He hadn't realized when you stopped praying, "Oh shi- I mean shoot. Sorry." He let go of your hands as he apologized.

You gave him a sympathetic smile, "It's all good."

He was at a loss for words, all he could say was, "Thanks for this."

"Of course, I'm here every Sunday. I hope to see you again."

"Yeah."

Next Sunday rolled around and you were a lot more excited this time. You really hoped that Erik would be there. On the highway you exceeded the speed limit just a little bit to get to church faster. You parked your car and got into the church, this time no one was holding the door as you were a lot earlier.

Everything followed suit as usual, you sing, your father preaches and closing prayer. You had spotted Erik while singing, this time he was standing up and clapping. It was a good start, he'd get to singing eventually.

This week he had asked you to pray for healing and restoration in his heart. Before leaving, you gave him a hug and you were quite surprised when your palm touched his back. You felt ridges, lot's of them. You wanted to ask him about them, but it would probably be rude. Maybe he had a skin condition.

The following Sunday was also the same, but this time he had asked you to pray for guidance. You knew he was lost, and you were more than happy to help. You didn't know, however, about the burden he was carrying, nor did you try to pry into that. After the prayer he thanked you.

Suddenly your mother and father came over to greet you both.

"Hey Mom, Dad. This is Erik."

"Lovely to meet you, Erik." Your mother shook his hand.

"Welcome to the church. You must be new." Your father also shook his hand.

"Yeah, it's his third time here." He nodded as you spoke for him.

"Glad to have a new member." He patted Erik on the shoulder. "(Y/n), are you coming over for dinner tonight?"

"Yes, I just gotta grab something at my place and I'll see you there."

"Alright, we're heading out now. Drive safe. Once again, nice to meet you Erik." Your parents waved to you both as they left the church.

You sighed, "I hate closing up this place, it's so eerie in the dark."

"For real?"

"Yup."

"The Lord's house?"

"Yes, Erik."

"How God suppose to give you bad vibes?"

"He doesn't, it's just my mind running rampant... Plus, this church is really old."

"Aight, I can stay and protect you just in case." He joked.

You rolled your eyes and agreed anyway. "I gotta do the basement first."

So he followed you down to where the bathrooms and meeting rooms were located.

"I guess I could give you a little t-" You turned around, but he wasn't there. "Erik?!" You called out. "Erik, come on this ain't funny." The light shut off and you were alone in the dark. You screamed when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. You slapped the hand away and the lights came back on revealing a laughing Erik. "So. Not. Funny."

"I'm sorry." He continued to laugh.

Two months had passed and this Sunday followed the same, but when closing prayer rolled around Erik had prayed for a date.

"What do you mean a date?" You giggled at his request. "I'm gonna need you to be more specific."

"Exactly that, a date. With you."

You were taken aback by his statement, but then smiled. "What will this date consist of?"

"Anything you want."

One thing you learned about Erik with knowing so little about him was his bold and cocky demeanour.

"Alright... Hmm..." You thought of how you would play along with his request. "Oh Lord, I pray that Erik takes me somewhere nice, with good food and good music. I also pray that this may not turn out to be a bad experience, in your holy name, amen."

He loved to see your laugh, "So that's a yes?"

"Yes."

Your parents had left early again and you were subject to Erik's pranks and duty of closing up. After locking the church, he walked you to your car as you entered your number into his phone.

"So I'll pick you up on Friday at six?"

"Yeah, see you then Erik." He locked your door for you and strode off to his car as you drove away.

Erik was really hoping that he wouldn't screw anything up. You could be his redemption and he truly felt it. Sure he'd only known you for such a short time, but something about your presence felt so promising to him.

It was five p.m. and you just got out of the shower when you had called Erik.

"Ya know, you still haven't told me where you're taking me."

"Don't worry about it, ma."

"But I don't know what to wear."

"Just dress good."

You frowned at the general answer, "That could mean anything. I have good pyjamas, good gym clothes, good church clothes."

You could hear him sigh on the other line, "We're going on a date. Wear something sexy then."

You blushed at his comment, "Wha- Fine."

"Just don't take forever, aight."

"Okay, Erik see you soon."

"Later, princess."

Before you could ask him about his pet name for you, the line went dead.

Your black Persian cat, Minnie, hopped onto your bed and meowed at you. Her name was quite ironic because her fur gave her a large appearance.

"What's up, Minnie? You hungry?"

She rolled onto her back and meowed again.

"Alright, lemme just finish getting ready then I got you, okay." You rubbed her stomach, (luckily she doesn't mind that) and went into your closet looking for the perfect outfit.

Something sexy...

You never thought about dressing "sexy". You didn't have bad style, but you never wore anything to attract attention. Your outfits were mainly business casual or business dressy when you were out. At home, you settled for something comfy.

But remembered your sister taking you shopping when she set you up for all those blind dates. None of the men you met were intriguing in the slightest. They all had their quirks and nicks that were huge turn offs. You weren't stuck up, but you could not see yourself spending the next fifty years with them. Erik though, had something enticing about him. He made you curious.

You decided to go for blind date outfit number two. A high-low dress with a white polyester satin top and royal blue mesh bottoms, silver accessories, light makeup and white stilettos. You slipped into the dress, zipping it up and adjusted the bottom.

You thought about what food you were going to order as you filled up Minnie's food bowl with wet food, salmon to be exact, her favourite. If he was one of those cheap men, he'd take you to McDonalds. You were told to be grateful in any case, so you would order a combo. But maybe you were lucky enough to be going on a date with someone who has a decent bank account. Maybe he'd take you to a restaurant where you could order pasta or a fancy fish. Maybe a hibachi grill! Those were always a ton of fun to go to.

Though Erik and you have known each other for two months strictly because of church, you didn't know anything about him. Once again, he never failed to remind you of how mysterious he was. He could be a killer for all you know.

You stroked Minnie's back as she quickly ate her dinner.

"Maybe I could order the same thing Mom and Dad made me the last time I was over there." They had made grilled steak and potatoes, it was delicious. Your mother was actually a queen on the grill, and your father tagged in with the perfect seasonings. You always ate good with them. While you daydreamed about consuming their cooking, your father's words replayed through your head.

"I dunno, I feel like I've seen him before. Like he just seems so familiar."

"How so?"

"I'm not sure, the name... Also, when I touched his shoulder I felt these bumps, it reminded me of something, but I'm not so sure."

"Maybe it's a coincidence."

"Maybe..."

The raps against your door brought you out of your thoughts and you went over to go open it. There Erik stood in a black semi casual suit and black Louis Vuitton loafers.

"Hey, Princess."

"Hey, Erik." You gave him a hug getting a whiff of a cologne that was very subtle, but you already knew it was very expensive. You recall smelling it in a high end store at the mall.

"You smell good." He said. What he was smelling was your body mist from Victoria's Secret, you got it on sale for five dollars.

"Thanks, I should be saying the same to you."

"You look sexy too."

"Ah thanks." You stopped yourself knowing where he was going.

"What, you ain't gonna say the same to me?"

"I mean, I guess you look alright." You teased.

He kissed his teeth and shook his head and you laughed.

"Bye, Minnie. I'll be back later." You locked the door and latched arms with Erik as he guided you down the steps to his car. "Oh my gosh, this is your ride?" You exclaimed, charmed by the shiny black Corvette.

"One of." He plainly stated, opening the passengers side for you.

"One of?!"

"Hop in." He ignored your question for clarification. You got in and he locked the door, making his way around to the driver's side. He wasted no time taking off into the night. The sky was shaded with a warm orange colour as the sun began to sink below the Oakland skyline. His music was a lot lower than you had originally expected.

You could faintly hear the tune and lyrics, it was a Biggie Smalls song that you've heard throughout high school. You hummed to the beat of the song until it completely stopped.

"Hey, it was low enough." You frowned at Erik.

"Why don't you sing for me instead?" His focus was still on the road.

"Well, I usually like to have a beat playing."

"You don't do A Capella?"

"Only when I'm at home."

"So you ain't tryna sing a lil something for me?" He turned to look at now that he was at a stop light.

"Only if I can get a beat."

"I don't beat box."

You rolled your eyes, "I wasn't asking you to do it. Do you have an aux cord?"

He laughed, "Aux cord?"

"What's so funny about that?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Just connect it to my bluetooth."

"Oh alright, Mr. Fancy." You held your hands up in a surrender.

After setting it up, which was surprisingly really fast compared to your car, you chose to play another one of your favourite Kirk Franklin songs, I Smile.

Today's a new day, but there is no sunshine

Nothing but clouds, and it's dark in my heart

And it feels like a cold night

Today's a new day, but where are my blue skies

Where is the love and the joy that you promised me?

Not even a minute through the song and this man had turned the radio off.

"Erik!"

"You singing that gospel shit, it ain't even Sunday."

"I'm not a Sunday Christian, I practice it every day of my life."

He laughed, and began driving as the light changed to green. "You're the first."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, I always thought this religious thing was bullshit."

"Excuse m-"

"Hold on, let me explain." He held his hand up, "You even admitted it just now. Y'all go to church every Sunday, belting your hearts out and praising God. But as soon as it's over, people go back to their sinful ways. Whether it be cheating, lying, stealing, ya get what I'm saying?"

It's true, it has definitely crossed your mind on multiple occasions, and that's why you said what you said. "I do."

"What's the point if you're just gonna go back to being a sinful person?"

"I guess it just gives them some type of security." You didn't exactly know how to answer his question, and you've asked your father the same thing many times, but even he could not come up with the perfect explanation.

"Anyway, what else you got on your phone?"

"Mainly just gospel, it really gets me through the day."

"You was just humming to Biggie. I'm sure you got something other than gospel, let me see." He held his palm out for you to place your phone in it.

"You're driving, focus on the road."

"The light's gonna change, let me see it." He slowed to a stop.

"Fine." You placed the phone into his hands and scanned for songs other than gospel. His sudden laughter made you stare at him, "What's so funny?"

"Clean, clean, clean. All these songs got the little clean icon." He handed you your phone, "Aight, I'm firing you from DJ duty."

"Wooowwww." You rolled your eyes and folded your arms across your chest.

"I got you." He lifted his phone and scrolled through his list, you alerted him when the light turned green and he set his phone back down in the cup holder. "You got this one on ya phone."

T-Pain's, Bartender filled the car and you were a little surprised. You really thought he was gonna chose a song that was loaded with cursing and sexual innuendos. But you didn't have songs like that on your phone. Honestly, you lived for the early 2000s throwback songs and you felt your voice complimented T-Pain's as you sang along.

Erik handled the verses as you sand the pre-hook and the hook. The bass in his car was amazing, you felt as if you were at a live concert seated in front of the speakers. You continued to listen to his early 2000s playlist until he decided to change it up to more recent songs.

"Please don't play those new artists."

"Artists? They ain't artists, they fuckin' trash. Disgraceful to even call themselves rappers." He scoffed.

"I'm glad you agree, but do you have to swear?"

"Fuck yeah." He set his phone back down and a song you were unfamiliar with filled the car, "Neighbor, Juicy J and Travis Scott." He told you. You knew Travis, his songs were pretty good.

You were bopping to the music, ignoring the little "Shut the fuck up" at the beginning. Erik was vibing to the song as well, bopping his head and doing little dances with his hands. You were enjoying the song until the chorus came. He was looking at you the whole time with a smirk.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

Your mouth was ajar, watching him recite every single word. He bursted out laughing at your shocked expression.

"Damn shorty, it ain't that serious." He turned the volume down, "You telling me you've never cussed?"

"No, never."

Your expressions changed, his mouth was now ajar this time. "Never?"

"Never."

"Say, sofa."

You stared at him suspiciously. "Sofa."

"Now say, king."

"King."

"Say it together real fast."

"Sofa k- Really?" You glared at him.

"I tried. Anyway, we're here." He hopped out and came around to the other side to get you.

"This place is beautiful, oh my gosh. I thought you needed to make reservations some months ahead to get in." You gawked at the super high ceiling with crystal chandeliers, the marble walls and floors, and the large gold fountain placed right in the centre. "How'd you do it?"

He simply shrugged.

"You're taking this very lightly. I mean, this is a lot for a first date."

"You don't like it?"

"No, no. I love it, it's just, a lot to take in and you're acting like this is normal."

"It is." He shrugged again.

"What?" You stared at him incredulously.

A waiter arrived at the table, placing a basket of bread and fancy cheese platter on the table.

"Good evening, can I start you both off with some drinks?"

"Lemme get your best bottle of Rosé. The whole thing."

Erik hadn't even looked at the menu and you were searching through it quickly. The waiter had already gone off and you didn't have a chance state that you only wanted a glass of water.

"I don't drink." You told Erik.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't care to."

"You never had a little sip?"

"Nope, never. Just like swearing. Never done it, never will."

"Say sofa-"

"Be quiet." You cut him off and he chuckled.

"Ya know, Jesus turned water into wine. John 2:1-11. The bible ain't against drinking."

"So?"

"So, he wasn't afraid to have fun. We talking about God's son. That man had serious responsibility, but he still did that. You need to loosen up, girl. I ain't asking you to get drunk."

You sighed, and the waiter had returned with a bottle of the Rosé. He poured you a glass and asked if you both needed some time to order, but Erik had already placed his order and yours.

"Wha- I don't even know what you just ordered."

"You'll like it, I promise."

Goes to show how often he comes here, maybe with other women too.

"So this is the part where you tell me about yourself." You began.

"Well shit, what do you wanna know?"

"Well first of all, what in the world do you do?"

"I work for a Wakandan outreach centre in Oakland. Helping our people do better with the fucked up system."

"Oh that's pretty cool, it pays well?"

"Well if you're trying to ask how I can afford everything I got, I also work beside the King of Wakanda. His advisor to be exact. So I get my money like that."

You stared at him puzzled, "Huh?"

He smirked, "I guess you can say I'm royalty. That dude I called King, he's my cousin."

You almost choked on the bread that you just took a bite out of, "WHAT?"

The white people turned around to look at the source of the sound, their noses scrunched up at your vulgar outburst as Erik laughed.

"You know Erik, lying lips are an abomination to the Lord. Proverbs 12:22."

"Who said I was lying?"

The waiter had come back with two steaming plates that were covered by a cloche. As he raised the silver metal covering, steam smoked out from the sides revealing two plates of alligot and garlic roasted chicken sliced into perfect pieces with truffles and caviar. You've heard of alligot once on a YouTube video, but you hadn't planned on trying it.

You both thanked him as he left you two to finish off your meal.

"So, what do you do?" He used the knife to cut the chicken breast into a smaller piece before putting it into his mouth.

"Well, I'm a full time social worker at a high school and part time singer and youth teacher on Sunday's. But you already knew that." You said while scooping the cheesy potato onto your fork.

"Maybe you could come talk to some of the kids at the centre. Teach em a bit."

"I could, but I'd have to find somewhere in my schedule to fit it."

"We're always open and willing to get more people on our team. Just let me know."

"For sure."

You both ate in relative silence, only because you were still staring at the rose coloured drink resting to the right side of your plate. Erik had already finished half of his glass. You told him, maybe you'd opt out because surely he can't drink and drive home, but he assured you his alcohol tolerance was very high. It was a little insipid how high it was a matter of fact.

"It won't kill you, just think of it as pink lemonade."

You narrowed your eyes as you brought the glass to your lips, allowing the liquid to enter your mouth.

"Swallow it."

And you did. It actually wasn't as bad as you expected it to be.

"See, how was that?"

"Not bad." You actually really enjoyed the taste.

The rest of your night consisted of questions and answers, jokes, serious debates on religion, politics and what the hell was going on within the black community, internally and externally. You had downed three glasses of the Rosé without noticing.

"So, would you date a white girl?" You asked him.

He didn't even spare a second to think, "Nah."

"Why not? Don't black men love them?"

"I mean, they aight. But I need someone who I can really connect with. Mentally, spiritually, emotionally and physically. No white girl can truly understand the struggle, I need me a lady to not only sympathize when I'm crying for one of my brothers murdered unjustly, but to feel exactly what I'm feeling."

"I say that too. Relating is super important in a relationship. There's no way I can be silent just because you don't want to hear about the things we deal with. I use to be friends with this white girl, back in 2016 when police brutality was at a high. She did not have a single care when I was speaking about it, she would find excuses for the police... She really tried to justify their actions. I was appalled."

Erik shook his head, "Damn. But that's to be expected. If it ain't affecting them, why should they give a fuck?" He rhetorically asked.

"I would then ask God, why. Why us? Why black people? Why do we carry the burden and the struggle."

Erik leaned in, intrigued by your question. "Did you find the answer?"

"It's all in the bible. A lot of people miss it, a lot. My father included and it's so sad."

Erik had already asked God the same question. He knew the answer.

"It's all right there, the verses, the scriptures. Everything. You should check out Romans 10:19."

Erik had already started siting the verse, "I will make you envious by those who are not a nation; I will make you angry by a nation that has no understanding." He shook his head, "When you know your true identity, you become unstoppable."

You stared at him in shock, "You know?"

"We're a lot alike, (y/n). Trust me, I've asked that question countless times." His grip on the neck of the glass was tight, "Not necessarily as a whole, but 'why me?' Why do I have to be the stereotype, why do I have to be the black parentless, foster-care kid, why couldn't I grow up like a normal child. Two parents, maybe some siblings. Hell, a dog too."

"What do you mean?"

"I lost both my parents at a young age, barely knew my mom. My dad was murdered by his own people..." You tried to look into his eyes, but they seemed so distant as he continued to explain the story.

"I'm so sorry, Erik."

"Nah, it's all good now. My life was shit, but like you sang back at church, that Kirk Franklin song."

"Looking for you?"

"Yeah, the beginning part."

"I'm glad my singing got to you." You smiled at him. You're not sure when it happened, but your hand had found his and your thumb rubbed over his knuckles. He lifted your hand up and pressed it against his lips.

"How you get drunk off of Rosé?" He shook his head with a judgemental look on his face.

"I'm not." You weren't totally drunk, just a bit.

The drive to his place was rather quick, you were already making it into his gated home. It was a little hard to make out what the place looked like in the dark, it was almost as if he made it incognito. Not a single light was on. As he unlocked the high tech door, a wave of cold air slapped your bare arms making you shiver.

"Why does it feel like Antartica in here?"

"It's just how I like it." He closed the door and put the lock back on.

"No way." You held your arms as you shivered, but he placed his very hot blazer over your shoulders. Okay, so now you understood why he kept his place so cold. The man generated heat like an oven. You were instantly warmed up.

"Lights on, main floor." He spoke to no one in particular, or so you thought until a robotic female voice recited his command and lights began turning on.

"Whoa, is this one of those smart homes?"

"Kinda. It just got vibranium and Wakandan technology."

"Seriously?"

"I did tell you the King is my cousin." He began walking into another room.

"Hold up!" You caught up to him.

You were now in his kitchen that connected to his living room. His style was very modern and sleek. It was so clean that not a single spot of dust was visible to the naked eye. He had many African artworks and artifacts around the room and a gigantic map of the world with little red pushpins located in different spots.

"Hey Erik?"

"Hmm?" He was taking a shot of something with a golden brown colour.

"What's up with this map?"

He swallowed the liquid and made his way over to you. "It's for every place I been."

"Cuz you were in the military right?"

"Yup."

Then the thought came to your head, "Hey, Erik?"

"Wassup?"

"Have you ever um..." Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to, "Actually, never mind."

"Aight."

You sat down on his large sectional sofa and released your curls from your hair tie. It felt just as good as taking off your bra, but of course you couldn't do that at the moment. Then another thought came to you, but Erik had already seated himself beside you with a bottle of Hennessy in his hands, placing it down on the glass table.

"More alcohol?" You've heard about Hennessy before, but you knew nothing about it.

"Yeah." He simply stated and turned on the TV.

"Can I get some?"

He looked at you funny, "Of what? That?" He pointed to the bottle.

"Yes."

"So you a drinker now?"

"It won't kill me." You restated what he said.

"Aight, look for a movie." He got up from the couch and went back into his kitchen to get you a glass.

You scrolled through the vast selection, you weren't sure what to watch. Anything but horror, you didn't want to invite anymore demons into the world. He came back before you could find anything.

"Just pick one." He said while filling your glass.

"There's too many to choose from. Why don't you do it?"

"Cuz, you're the guest and you won't like what I pick."

"How do you know what I like and don't like?"

"I got a pretty good understanding, ma. Now choose one."

You sighed and settled for one that looked decent, appropriate too. You took a sip of the drink, your face scowling at the taste. "Oh my- You like this?"

"Mhm." He responded while taking a few more shots. You sucked it up and drank the rest, you didn't want to waste his booze anyway.

By the thirty minute mark of the movie, your head found its way onto Erik's lap. The drink had sucker punched you, but you tried play it off. Erik was still unfazed, barely watching the movie. His attention was mainly on his phone.

A new sensation sparked your lower half, something you've briefly felt before, but suppressed it knowing exactly what it was. This time though, it came in all at once with a full force. It was an itch that needed to go away.

You've heard about alcohol being an aphrodisiac before... Uh oh.

You compressed your thighs together relieving it for a few seconds, but it felt as though it intensified and Erik noticed you shifting.

"You good?" He asked. His voice was so soft and enticing, calling you forward. You raised your head out of his lap and straddled him. "Whoa..."

"Erik..." Your voice came out very relaxed.

"Aye, you go-"

Your lips found their way onto his, stunning both of you in the process. You were kissing him so deeply without the intent of letting go. It was a sloppy kiss, truthfully, as you've never kissed another man before.

You had him on his back as you began undressing yourself down to only your matching pair of bra and panties.

"Baby girl, whatchu doing?"

"I'm tired of being the good girl, Erik. It's so boring." You whined to him.

Erik felt his dick twitch at the lust in your voice and eyes, he could feel his old self coming back quickly. He should've known better than to be drinking, but it was a rough week.

You leaned in and met him with another kiss, this time he was the dominant one. You helped him out of his button up, your hands now coming in contact with the bumps that you felt back at church. Had you not been so wasted, you would've reacted, but that was the last thing on your mind.

He was out of his pants before you knew it, and you were on your back. He kissed down your neck, making sure to leave love bites on you. He trailed all the way to your stomach, right down to the band of your blue lace panties. His fingers slid under the band yanking them further down till they were off completely.

"Damn, ma." He ran his finger up and down your wet folds before inserting it.

"Uhh." You moaned at the intrusion.

His tongue soon found it's way onto your clit as well. You moaned and thrashed as he continued to assault your womanhood. He made sure to hold you down as he ate you out. He was an expert, despite this being your first time, you could tell he was really skilled. He lifted your leg over his shoulder and stuck another finger into you. You hands found their way into his dreads and you gripped tightly, he hissed at your action.

"Ohhhh." You moaned aloud.

"You like this, mama?"

"Nngh, yes!"

The feeling in your core intensified until you could no longer hold it and you released without warning, a plethora of moans falling from your lips.

"Damn baby, you ain't warn me."

"Mmh, I'm sorry."

"Nah," He sat up. "Sorry ain't gonna cut it."

He pulled off his boxers and climbed over top of your shaking frame. He took the tip of the penis and rubbed it along the outside of you, coating it in your wetness. You shivered at his touch.

He had one hand by your ear and the other on his member, guiding it into you. The stretch was unbelievable, your hands gripped his arms tightly.

"Fuck, this pussy so tight."

"Oh, unnghh."

"That's it, just a little more." He continued to slide into you, and you tried your best to ignore any pain you were feeling, but that was almost impossible. His gold chain that you hadn't noticed before dangled over your head, it had a ring attached to it.

He thrusted into you, not checking if you were alright. All you could feel was pain and little spurts of pleasure here and there.

"Mmh, oh. I-it's too much!" You groaned.

"I know you can take it, come on girl."

He was definitely curing your itch, but that same feeling was welling into your core once again. You placed your hand on the lower half of his abdomen and begged for him not to go any deeper.

"Mhh-mmh. That's it, that's it." You continuously chanted as he continued thrusting.

He pulled out and had you go on all fours, you were a shaking mess. He dived right back into you pumping at a steady pace.

You cried out his name. "Erik, ohhhh fffff-" It was so overstimulating that you almost cursed.

"Was that a bad word?" He spanked your ass.

"Ah! Noooo." You sighed.

"Come on, say it. I dare you."

"Mmh-mmh." You shook your head slightly.

He picked up the pace and your moans turned into screams as he brushed your cervix. Your toes curled tightly.

"Ahhhh, s-slow d-down unnghhh!" You could swear you were seeing stars as he hammered you into the sofa.

"Ahhh shit." He sped up even faster. Your high was at it's peak now.

"Fuck!" You screamed out, not even realizing it, but a string of curse words followed. You couldn't stop yourself as you released onto his cock with a scream.

He pulled out and released onto your back as you collapse, blanked out without a care in the world.

The next morning, you felt something warm and wet on your shoulder.

"Minnie, stop. That tickles." You pushed the culprit away, but your hand retracted as soon as you felt human skin and kinky hair. You shot up and stared down at him. Regret instantly clouded your heart, and nausea filled your stomach.

It wasn't a sinful dream... You had lost your virginity so a man you had barely known. Something you promised to keep to yourself until marriage.

"Get away from me." You pushed him away as tears streamed down your face. You scooted back so far and almost fell off of his king sized bed in the process.

"(Y/n), it's just me."

"N-no, oh my gosh. Please tell me I was dreaming?" You held your head in your palms. You knew it was real, seeing that you were wearing one of his shirts, your curls were a hot mess, and you woke up in his bed. Not to mention the ache in between your legs.

"You good, ma?"

"No, Erik! I'm not 'good'! I'm terrible."

"Did I go too hard?" He asked without shame.

"That's not the issue, Erik! We had sex, right?"

"Yeah, it was great."

You sighed, collapsing your head into your lap. "I'm a sinner. I can't- I-"

"What's that suppose to mean?"

Your tears rolled off your cheeks landing onto the bed sheets, "You took my virginity, Erik."

"Oh shit..."

"I was saving it. Sex before marriage... Why would I do that? Ugh!"

" We were both drunk. It's not that serious, (y/n)."

"Of course it is!" You snapped at him. "We barely even know each other... This is my first time seeing you outside of church."

He was silent as he watched your tears of regret fall.

"I gave in to one of the cardinal sins... God must be so disgusted with me." You sighed, "Hebrews 13:4, Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral."

"Hold up, you talking about lust, right?" He finally spoke up.

"Yeah." You answered with a sniffle.

"Ain't you the one who told me about forgiveness. Redemption. All that shit."

You looked at him a little puzzled.

"You really think you a bad person for fucking?" He took off his shirt, "You know what these bumps are? They each represent a kill."

Your eyes widened as your hand covered your mouth.

"Thou shalt not kill, one of the Ten Commandments. I disobeyed that one, each scar on my body reminding me. You know what's the sad thing about it, I don't regret any of them. I did what I had to do, that's the path I chose." He scoffed, "You worried about sex, I got blood on my hands, baby. Shit, I don't even know if I can be saved."

You had to register a lot, it was all so overwhelming. You had given in to temptation and had sex with a man you only knew so much about, not to mention he's a killer... But then it hit you.

"W-wait... Don't tell me that you're K-Killmoger..."

"Surprise." He said unenthusiastically, his eyes had glossed over at some point, but you missed it.

It felt as if the weight of the world came crashing down on your shoulders. You weren't sure if you should run away, leave or stay.

Surprisingly, you found yourself cradling his head in your lap. You both remained silent and let the moment register.

"John 1:9, If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." He said while your fingers ran against his scalp.

You decided not to sing this Sunday, as it would feel hypocritical to be teaching these people what it means to be a good Christian through songs. Throughout the service, you hadn't seen Erik. He was kind enough to drop you back at your place the night before, but he took off in a hurry.

"(Y/n), you're not praying for anyone today?" Your father asked as he waved a few sisters goodbye.

"Actually, I needed a prayer for myself. And also with Erik in mind."

"Sure, what about?"

"Forgiveness of sin and restoration."

The look he gave you was quizzical, "Alright."

As your father prayed, Erik watched from a distance. He could feel your father's words in his heart without actually hearing anything. He knew that he was no good for you. You were just a church girl doing the right thing, while he was still trying to figure it out.

He was your temptation and you were his.

Okay, so this has been my longest one-shot with 9000+. I hope you enjoyed!

(Start/Finish: November 7-8, 2018)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

73 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

No Strings Attached

I'm happy to know that you're all still into Killmonger! :)

And I haven't written smut in a while, so here you go.

Relationship: Friends-With-Benefits

Warnings: Smut

It was nothing out of the ordinary to find yourself being filled up and absolutely overstimulated by the brawny, muscular and handsome, Erik Stevens. The Oakland ho', is what you nicknamed him.

He knew. You made sure to tell him, but he found it quite amusing. Nothing really offended him, coming from you anyway.

Erik had met you in high school. Of course he was Mr. Popular. You've heard of his escapades and all the wild things he's done with various girls, some of them being your friends. Oddly enough, sex was not interesting to you at the time.

You were known as the typical smart and shy girl. The virgin. Erik's favourite kind of female. You better believe he's been trying to get at you ever since, literally going out of his way to become friends with you just so he could get into your pants.

But eventually he realized that you were more than just a quick nut. You were goofy, insightful and a pleasure to be around. Your lack of sexual curiosity and attention to more important things intrigued him. Also, he could always go to you if he was upset, you let him vent and express all of his emotions. Not once did you judge or ridicule him like his foster parents or anyone else who didn't give him the time of day to show his feelings.

"Venting is good for the soul, never bottle up your anger. Always talk to me if you need to. Cry on my shoulder too."

"Hell nah, I don't cry. I ain't no bitch."

You were irritated that the only thing he took from what you said was suggesting that he cried... But Erik understood, he just liked to be tough.

That being said, ever since the tenth grade you and Erik were best friends. Both of you slowly started picking up each other's good and bad habits. Erik started to develop proper mannerisms, politeness, and a bit of patience. You on the other hand, started cursing a lot more and somehow it was like his high levels of horniness had attached itself onto you.

Each year it increased more and more. Everyone knew you as the girl who had no interest in sex, and despite your changes, you made sure that everyone still believed that. Also, people who wanted to have a go at you (Erik's friends) knew they had no chance with him around. He made sure they knew that too.

"If any of y'all touch her, you better pray I don't find out. And good luck with that shit, cuz she tells me everything."

One night, he came over to chill and watch movies because that's what friends do. You were still a virgin, and your hormones were out of whack. Erik, well... When was he never horny? The movie ended and went to go take a shower, and the whole time you were contemplating if you would actually let him hit it.

He was never reserved when it came to anything sexual. He told you he wanted to on multiple occasions, no strings attached.

Tonight... Would finally be the night.

As he stepped out of the bathroom your jaw dropped slightly and lower half screamed. The towel was barely hugging his hips, muscular body covered in beads of water, the shape of his manhood barely making an appearance.

All that shy shit was thrown out the window. Within three seconds your lips had found his, arms wrapped around each other in a heated and passionate kiss. By a minute, all of your clothes were discarded and Erik had his way with your body.

There was pain and there was pleasure, but you both knew that sex with each other would become a regular thing.

Once again, no strings attached.

Erik had you laid out on your back, legs spread wide as his large hand squeezed your right breast and you moaned out. Every single stroke hit you in the right spot.

"You like that shit, huh princess? Lil freak." His voice was husky and gruff.

"Mmh, yes! Oh fuck!" You whined as he moved closer and went even deeper.

His size made you wonder if it could be considered a weapon, because it was deadly. It was like God gave him both the size and the talent, a terrible (but utterly amazing) combo. You were sure if he was small he could still get you screaming at the top of your lungs. He just knew exactly what to do, and he did it before you could even ask him to go "deeper" or "harder".

He's made you cry, scream and blackout all at the same time on multiple occasions. The location didn't even matter. Despite him being a very big guy, he could fuck you all the same in a Mini Cooper.

And Erik was a freak freak. He hasn't shown you everything, because you were still adjusting to some of it, like public sex. That was always terrifying to you, but for some reason no one caught you yet. As far as you know...

"I'm killing your shit, right?" It wasn't a question, even if he asked it as such. He knew.

"Yessss!" You moaned in a high pitch. He was killing it, destroying it, obliterating it all in the best way possible.

Your nails clawed at the bed, his strokes were so precise and on beat. You had a love-hate relationship with being in the missionary position with him. It was like the perfect mix between making love and just straight up fucking. Backstrokes were a lot easier to handle, even though it still could have you tapping out. But missionary, Erik assumed full control in this position. He had your mind was muddled and the only thing you could compute were barely coherent words, lots of moaning/screaming/crying and the intense amount of pleasure this man was delivering in between your legs.

You felt his hands attempt to trail up behind your knees to push them into your chest and you knew if he did, it would be over. You pushed back and tried shuffling away, but he caught you dragging you right back fully onto him before you could get more than halfway off. The sound of you connecting back was sinful.

"Nah shorty, ain't no crawling away." He said, hoisting your legs over his shoulders, "I'm tryna go deep."

As if he wasn't already hitting your g-spot, this nigga was trying to damage your cervix.

"No, wait E-!" The way his hips pressed against yours, followed by his chest had your eyes squeezing shut. "God, ohh my fucking- Ohhh!" He was so heavy.

"So you'll call me God, but you won't call me daddy, huh? That's crazy."

"Uhh, shut the fuck up, Erik!" You could do without his annoying ass comments at the moment. Right now, you had to make sure your walls would still be intact when he was finished with you.

He chuckled, changing the rhythm to a medium speed. He sucked on your neck, surely leaving new marks. "I own this shit. All mine." He smirked.

"Y-you're too d-deep, ohhh!" Your moans were starting to come out as whimpers and that's how Erik knew you were just about spent.

"No such thing, baby girl." He groaned and leaned off of you, only to drag your hips slightly into the air, "Look how yo' pussy wrapped around my dick, like a birthday gift." He watched as his length disappeared and reappeared into you.

This motherfucker... "It's too much, p-please, Erik!"

"Tell me it's mine then." He hit you with deep and sharp thrusts after each word.

"Ahh! It-it's yours! Oh fuck!" You tried to say to the best of your ability, just so he could hurry up and finish.

"Say it like you mean it, I can feel you shaking. That nut is real close, but best believe you ain't getting it until you say it right." He was so bloody annoying, as if you hadn't came four times already. But then again, he hasn't pulled out since laying you on your back. He probably thought you were just squirting the whole time.

His thumb pressed hard against your clit, and his cold eyes stared dead into yours. His hips were circling into yours once again.

"Fuuckk, Erik it's yours dammit! This pussy is all yours!" Your moaned out exasperatedly, nails leaving imprints on his bedsheets.

He chuckled at your irritated tone, settling for your answer. That was his favourite line to hear during sex. "Imma nut all in yo' shit, girl." You had already came, squeezing around his dick even tighter. He was very close to releasing so he thrusted into you harder and faster, not missing a beat until he finally emptied himself deep into you.

You both were breathing with heavy laboured breaths by time he pulled out. You were aching, but also experiencing pure euphoria.

He got up and left to go to the bathroom, giving you time to recuperate.

Though Erik wouldn't admit it, you had the best pussy he's ever had. He hadn't been messing around too much after finally getting a piece of you. He's never made love before, and the closest he's gotten was fucking you slowly. You two were strictly friends and he would keep it as such. He didn't want you knowing that he was getting attached. It made him feel weak.

You on the other hand, seemed unfazed by it. He could do things with your body that no one could, but yet still you respected the boundary between romance and friendship. Besides, sex was so casual these days. Pussy and dick was everywhere...

When he got back in the bed, he pulled his phone off the nightstand and began scrolling through his Twitter timeline as if nothing just happened. Something compelled you to get closer to him, so you wrapped your arms around his waist and laid your head on his rough chest. The muscles in him tensed up.

"Yo, whatchu doin', girl?"

"It's just... We always fuck and that's it. Can you at least hold me till I fall asleep, E?" You looked at him with innocent eyes, he loved that.

"Nah, I don't cuddle. No strings attached, remember?" He gently pushed you off of him.

You sat up and pouted, folding your arms across your bare chest. "It doesn't even have to be on no relationship shit, Erik..."

"No, (y/n), we do this every time." He gave you a stern look, you hated that.

You rolled your eyes and turned over, shutting off the lamp. "Goodnight, I guess..."

"Night." He said, paying you no mind.

Ten minutes later, he shut off his phone and glanced at your delicate sleeping frame. He silently laughs, seeing how far away you moved. You were upset, he could tell.

"Never go to sleep upset." You would always be the one telling him that, it was a shame that you hadn't practiced what you preached.

He would be lying if he said that it did feel good when you wrapped around him, even if it was for a few seconds. Erik had never cuddled after sex, he thought that would cause people to catch feelings. He also didn't want the girl he just slept with to ask him dumb questions afterwards like, "Why me?" or "What would you do if I died?" Just shit that he wouldn't have the answer that they're looking for.

He pulled your body closer to the centre of the bed, as you were too close to the edge and shut off his lamp.

You were awoken to the irritating feeling of needing to pee. You tried to spring up quickly, only to be held down by a tight and heavy grasp. Soft snores from the man you slept with less than three hours ago filled your ears.

Wait... Was he... Cuddling you?!

Mr. "I don't cuddle" really had his big ass arms wrapped around your body. Not to mention, but he was knocked out like a baby.

This all would be so nice if your bladder wasn't threatening to explode right now.

"Erik." You whispered, and tried to get out of his grasp. He didn't respond or seem aware of your presence.

He was really knocked. Usually the slightest noise and movements would wake him up.

There was one time you were opening a bag his favourite bag of chips while he was napping on your sofa. You didn't even open a quarter of the bag and he was already up, snatching the whole bag out of your hands.

You elbowed him a little roughly, and called out his name even louder. "Erik!"

He groaned in pain, "Argh, damn girl. The hell was that for?"

"I need to go pee."

"Then go, you grown."

"Nigga, I can't with your arms holding me down."

"Ah shit." He whispered to himself, letting you go.

"I thought you didn't cuddle." You teased him.

"I don't." He denied.

"Erik, you really about to act like you weren't just holding me against your chest."

"You probably scooted in to me." He tried to argue back.

"E, that doesn't even- You know what?" You got up from the bed, and looked at the digital clock. "Not at four in the morning, aight?" You went to use the bathroom and left Erik to contemplate.

He wasn't cuddling you initially, but at some point he must've connected with you. You were the most comforting person to be around in all aspects. Even when you argued with each other. He was so content and peaceful whenever he was around you.

You came back and went right to the edge of the bed, surprised when Erik pulled you back in. His arms wrapped protectively around your body.

"Erik, wha-"

"Shut up, (Y/n). I'm trying to sleep." He said in a raspy voice.

You rolled your eyes for the last time and closed them, deciding you were too tired to scold him for telling you to shut up.

If he wasn't a cuddler before, he definitely is one now.

Hope you all enjoyed! I didn't add too much of a romantic relationship because I really wanna explore different types relationships with Erik and the reader. Plus I had another plot idea to link with this one, but I'll save it for another.

I'm also very tempted to edit this now, but it's almost five a.m. and I'm sleepy so I know there will be so many mistakes if I do lol.

Thanks for reading!

(Start/Finish: June 25, 2019)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

150 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

My Boyfriend and My Best Friend Are Doppelgängers!

I was listening to BMO by Ari Lennox and I started to think about Adonis, it only makes sense for him to have at least one appearance in my book, right!?

Also, this thing about guys loving 2K like it's their newborn child is a real ass thing.

I'm not following the Creed 2 storyline, neither am I following the exact BP storyline. And I'm not writing about the fight between Adonis and Viktor either.

No Warnings.

Relationship: Boyfriend Erik x Reader x Best Friend Adonis Creed

You never expected that buying Erik 2K20 on his birthday would cause him to completely forget about you. Of course he was very appreciative about it. He even gave you one of the best dick-downs for it in fact, but when you really thought about it as you woke up and heard the game running with him talking to which ever one of his friends over the headset, you knew exactly what his plan was.

You could even imagine the smug smirk on his face as he told his friends, I put that ass right to sleep.

It was as if that damn game became part of his life, almost as if it and the oxygen he breathed had the same value. The only times that he would get off was if he needed to eat, use the bathroom and sleep (which only lasted four hours). He was currently not busy with work, so he had all the free time in the world to play.

For the first week it was nice, you could leave the house in his favourite lingerie set if you wanted to and he wouldn't even bat an eyelash. He was always so damn protective of you like a father worrying about his daughter's first date, but you were grown and he was annoying.

But the following weeks where you were touch-starved and craving attention were not so nice. You would call his name and he would either respond with a half-assed hum or nothing at all. The most that you got out of him was when you threatened that you were gonna go and fuck your ex, but Erik promised that he would kill him.

"You must want that nigga to die." Was all he said. Erik wouldn't even have to do it, one phone call and the job would be done. You harboured no hatred towards that ex, so you certainly didn't test Erik's threat.

Even though it seemed as if his big headed ass was paying no attention to you, he was very observant and could tell you exactly what was what, who was where and when something happened.

Then there was three nights ago where you were that desperate and ended up treating yourself to look real nice for him. Ironic isn't it. You got a Brazilian sugar wax and everywhere was nice and smooth, you got your hair done in passion twists, decorated with those cute gold cuffs and one string in the front. Then you took a trip to the salon and spent it by getting a facial, full body massage and a complimentary mani-pedi and a natural looking makeover for spending all of that money. His money to be exact.

When you got home, you still smelled like the spa which had a coconut and honey type of fragrance, very warm and comforting. The old doorman at your building made sure to let you know that you graced his nostrils with such a lovely scent as you passed by.

Of course Erik was still in the living room, so you snuck into your shared bedroom, slipping into the new gold and black lingerie that you purchased from an adult shop downtown. The bra was gold with black lace and the panties were gold with a frilly black lace around the hip line. Best part about it, everything was easy access.

Before showing off to him, like you always did anytime you bought anything new or got any kind of makeover, you did a quick touch up on your makeup, flipped the twists to one side of your head, and put on your black lace robe. You even took a few pictures in the tall mirror just to look back at this and appreciate how bomb you look right now.

The more you stared at yourself, the more shy you got. You didn't get dolled up like this for Erik anymore now that you both lived together. Sex was almost a daily thing between you two- rather it was before 2K came in the picture.

You strolled out of your shared room, into the living room where he was comfortably seated. Shirtless and in a pair of basketball shorts.

"Bruh, pass the damn b- Yo bae, move-" He stopped talking as soon as he finally took a better look at you. "Shit."

"Hey, Erik." You say in a seductive voice and walk over to him, taking a seat right on his lap.

He immediately started to smell you, "What you got on girl?" His warm tongue immediately latched on your neck causing you to moan lightly.

"I went to the spa."

"And you did all this for me?" He admired you some more. What was missing were his hands, that you hadn't realized were still on the controller.

"Mhm, all for you." You leaned in to give him a kiss on the lips. As far as you could tell he was as aroused as you were, considering his hard member that was pressing against your thigh.

Unfortunately, that was all ruined when he almost jumped out of the seat and almost let you fall, "You was suppose to make that, bruh!"

"Ahh! Fucking hell, Erik!" You fumed and tried to get up only for him to hold you back down.

"Aye, aye, where you going, ma? I ain't done witchu."

"Nah fuck that, you can't even pause the game for me."

"I would, but it's online. Besides... I'm tryna fuck you right here, right now, princess."

Your eyes widened as you could hear his friends laughing through his headset and calling him variations of a clown and that he plays too much.

"Nah b, I could be balls deep in some pussy and still whoop y'all asses." Erik said laughing, he was really enjoying this too much.

"Let go of me!" You push and finally get out of his weakened barrier. You stormed into your bedroom, slamming the door.

"She cool. Imma be in them guts later though. Right, babe?!" You could hear him boasting to his friends.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment and turning your TV on instead. It was a good thing you decided on buying two tv's for your apartment, incase of "emergencies" like this.

While flipping through the channels in hopes to find something, even a thriller to get your mind off of the flop in your plans, you're stopped by an extremely familiar face on one of the sports stations. One who looks so similar to the big head sitting in the living room yelling at a game. Only this one doesn't have dreads or scars decorated all over his body.

He was up against Viktor Drago, and if you remembered correctly, that is the son of Ivan Drago who killed Apollo, Adonis' father. It appeared that they were doing some weighing of both men. Adonis was shorter than Viktor and it made you question whether he should be fighting someone that much larger.

They were close enough to each other, even Ivan was there who whispered something to Adonis and all hell broke loose. Ivan was shoved, Adonis was shoved even harder and he was cussing and beyond ready to fight.

He really hasn't changed.

You met Donnie back in high school. He didn't stay in one place for long, but your relationship with him never faltered. The first time you both spoke was during a science project in the ninth grade. He suggested you do a basic ass volcano with baking soda and vinegar, but a) you were too smart to make something so simple and b) it was messy. You both argued for a bit until you came to the (biased) conclusion that you would make a platform to "see" sound.

The whole time you were constructing the simple project, he criticized you and called it dumb until you told him to make a beat, in which he also called stupid, but did it anyway. He ended up enjoying it though. You both spent hours watching the sprinkles dance along the plastic wrap to the different variations of sound you both made. It was weird, but that was the beginning of a true friendship.

As you both matured together, so did your hobbies and interests. By the twelfth grade, at your cousins house party, Adonis was the one to take your virginity and you took his as well. It certainly was awkward, but you never regretted it, not even now. You were still friends after that, maybe a little intimate, but friends-with-a-few-benefits-here-and-there at most.

It was really nice to see him again after he moved out to Philly. With Erik becoming your boyfriend and Adonis living out his dreams, finding time for each other was hard. Fortunately, the fight would be held in Los Angeles so he would be spending his time out in Cali for the time being. Plus, the fight was only a few weeks away.

You picked up your phone from the night stand and looked at your contacts list. His name was still there, closer to the bottom though. Hopefully he didn't change it. But then again, the only thing he ever really changed were his outfits and place of residence. He always had on the cleanest, newest, freshest outfits and sneakers. Erik was also like that, funny huh?

You: Hey idk if u changed ur number... I see ur in town tho. Wanna grab something to eat someday?

You tossed your phone to the side, heart pounding as if you were texting a celebrity crush. It didn't even take two minutes before your phone started ringing.

"No way..." You looked on the screen to see his name pop up: Donnie. You contemplated answering, what if it was some creep who stole his phone, or maybe a manager, or maybe a jealous ex girl- or maybe it's just him... You sigh heavily, calming your nerves and answered. "H-hello?"

"Dang I didn't even know I still had your number. Wassup, nerd?" Looks like the nickname remained the same too.

You rolled your eyes, "You still calling me that?"

"Of course, that's what you are, aren't you?" He rhetorically asked.

You chuckled, a sound that he missed. "I ain't no nerd, Donnie, I was just a lot smarter than you."

You both shared a laugh, the first one in years.

"I missed you, girl. How you been?"

"I been good, obviously not as much as you though, I saw you on TV. Tell me what you been up to, champ?"

"Knocking niggas teeth out."

You laughed. "Let me find out you got some teeth missing too."

"What? Nah, don't play me! You know I got all thirty-two and they perfect."

"Yeah, yeah. You probably mithing your thwo fwont teeth." You joked. He was also laughing on the other end. "But any who, I was thinking we could go to that retro diner that we always went to after school."

"That jawn close to the beach?"

"The what?

He chuckled, "Sorry, that's that Philly slang. The one by the beach, right?"

"Oh you a Philly boy now." You smirked, "But yeah, that's the one."

"I'm still a Cali nigga, and sure. I got like two days worth of interviews coming up and of course some training though. Can we meet up on Tuesday at two?

"Yeah, that's good. We got a lot to catch up on."

"For sure. See you then, nerd."

You rolled your eyes again and smiled, "Goodnight, Donnie."

Afternoon rolled around and you were just about ready to head out. It was warm out with a cool breeze, so you decided to throw on red patterned boho flare pants with a black off the shoulder crop top and sandals. You threw your twists up into a bun, leaving two strands out on each side, slipped on your silver hoop earrings and clasped your heart shaped necklace together.

Even though you were fresh out the shower, the scent of the spa still lingered on your skin (even after a few days), but not as potent as when you first got home. You finished off by applying light makeup and spritzed yourself with Marc Jacobs, Daisy eau de parfum.

Anyone would think you that you were going out on a date just by looking at your simple, but dolled up look. Anyone, but your boyfriend who was laying on his back with his head still craned towards the television.

"I'm going out for lunch with a friend!" You called out to him. Surprisingly he actually got off the sofa and walked towards you.

When he got closer you could see the bags and dark circles under his eyes. He flashed a grin at you and gave your ass a rough spank and squeeze. You yelped.

You anticipated the dreaded twenty questions to come. Who are you meeting? Where are you going? Why? Is it your ex? I told you I'd kill that nigga.

But with his groggy morning voice, all he asked was, "Can you bring something back for me? I'm tired of pizza and wings."

Shockingly he didn't question anything else. You weren't sure if this was him being more trusting or too careless...

"Ugh." You pushed against his chest and moved to get your keys. "What you need to do is put the damn game down and go get some sleep."

"I do sleep. What I need is that pussy you been keeping from me."

You grabbed his face with your hands and stared deeply into his eyes, this only caused him to pucker his lips out to you.

"I'm not kissing you. And I'm serious, E. You look like a zombie. When was the last time you been outside?"

"Umm..." He looked as if he was searching in the deepest recesses of his mind to find the answer, but it should never be that hard unless he was trapped in a cave. Metaphorically speaking, that cave would be the living room.

You rolled your eyes and decided to leave, but not before he gave you one last spank. He loved to do that anytime you had on those pants. Good to know that he was still somewhat conscious.

The host seated you in a booth towards the back corner of the building with the best view of the beach. You weren't sure what kind of famous Adonis was, but while driving on the freeway, there was a huge poster of him and Drago plastered on a billboard. There was even a few different radio stations talking about it being the biggest fight of the century.

As you waited for him, you went ahead and ordered a strawberry milkshake and scrolled through your social media timeline. You were so distracted with a video of the fluffiest samoyed being cosseted by its owner that you hadn't noticed the new body that slumped into the booth in front of you. In fact, you almost ignored it thinking that Erik had finally came to his senses and decided to stalk you. They both had on identical white hoodies, with the hood slung over their head.

"What?" You asked without moving your eyes from your phone screen.

"Dang, that's how you greet an old friend?"

You looked up instantly at the man you hadn't seen in years. "Oh my gosh, Donnie!" You slid out of the booth and waited for him to stand back up so you could give him a proper hug. "Wow! You're a lot... Bigger than the last time I saw you."

"I am professional boxer." He gloated and released from the hug. "You're a lot less nerdy-looking from the last time I saw you." He bit his lip, "Dang, age did you right, girl. And you smell good as hell."

You rolled your eyes and smiled, "I always looked and smelled good."

"But not this good." He teased.

Your mouth formed into an 'O', "I see you're still an ass." You slid back into your booth and he did the same on the opposite side.

"I'm only joking." He chuckled, "But hey, do I need to beat someone up for you? You got a stalker or some shit?"

"Wha- No, why would I?"

"I mean you ain't even look up at me, and the way you said what like you thought I was someone else."

"Imma be honest, you look exactly like my boyfriend. Only he has dreads, more facial hair and his body is more on the meatier side. Not fat, but he's big."

"You saying I'm not?" He raised an eyebrow and flexed his bicep that you could easily see through his white hoodie.

"No." You giggled, "All I'm saying is, you're more lean and toned. He's muscular... But large."

He nodded, "So you got a type then."

"Huh? Wha- No I don't." You denied.

"But you just said your new nigga looks exactly like me, so I'm ya type." Adonis continued to accuse you with a mocking smile.

"Or maybe it's a coincidence... You both came to me first, and besides, my last ex looks nothing like the two of you."

"And what happened to him?"

"He was an asshole... Actually you know what, you're right. I guess my type is assholes. You're an ass, he was an ass, Erik is an ass."

This caused Adonis to laugh.

The waitress came by with a bright smile. She was about eighteen, her hair was slicked up into a puff, and her brown skin contrasted lovely against the pink uniform. Of all your years visiting this restaurant, she was the first African American waitress you've seen to work there.

This restaurant might as well be placed in a movie. You had your typical loyal customers, a chubby lady that wore glasses behind the bar and served coffee to some guy named Joe every morning. A typical blonde, a brunette and maybe, just maybe one kinky haired, chocolate skinned waitress. The cook was also chubby, and sloppy looking. Of course there were the old men who read their morning papers and one police officer having a donut by the bar.

Even though it was LA, nothing seemed to change within the diner. It was almost like a hidden gem in plain sight. The only thing was, you and Adonis stood out like sore thumbs. You were dressed for a photoshoot and he looked ready to go out jogging.

The waitress had a bright smile and a pleasant voice, "Good afternoon, my name is Neesha." She pointed at her name tag. You already knew that though, she came to you earlier, but you told her that your friend hadn't arrived as of yet. "Can I get you both anything to start with?"

"Can I get garlic bread, extra cheese. And the steak with home fries. Well-done please."

She nodded and noted your order then looked to Adonis.

"Do y'all got cheesesteaks?"

"Yeah." She jotted it down on her notepad. You noticed how hard she was staring at him. You could see her assembling his face in her mind.

"Really, Donnie? You come back to Cali and that's what you order?" You shook your head at him.

"Hell yeah, I been craving it since I been here. My trainer ain't giving me no type of break."

Neesha gasped, "I-I'm sorry, we're not really encouraged to do this, but um- You're Adonis Creed? Apollo's son?" She shyly asked.

"In the flesh." He boasted with a dimpled smile, exactly like Erik's.

Her voice was low so any nearby customers would not be able to overhear the conversation, "I'm actually a huge fan. I been watching your fights for a while now. I actually took up boxing last year after my ex thought it was okay to put his hands on me. Well mainly cuz you inspired me to, but yeah."

"I hope you were able to knock his ass out."

She smiled, "No... We got a restraining order- Sorry, I didn't mean to make this about me. But can I please get your autograph before you leave, I don't wanna attract too much attention and people in here are nosy as hell."

All of you chuckled understanding what she meant.

"I got you." He winked at her and allowed her to take your order back to the chef.

"Look at you, Donnie. Inspiring the youth, and a woman at that."

"I know, I'm quite the role model."

"You're being funny, right?"

"I'm dead serious."

You rolled your eyes again. "Yep, you and Erik might as well be the same person. You're both proud as hell."

"Is that a sin?"

"Yes! It is a sin to be proud."

"Well I'll be dammed." He laughed and put a large bottle of water on the table. "So..."

You eyed him, that was his mischievous tone. "So what?"

"You say we like the same, but who gave you better dick?"

You whisper-yelled at him with wide eyes, "Adonis!"

"I won't tell, I'm just curious." He casually said, drinking from his bottle without losing eye contact.

You sighed, it was never really a thought that crossed your mind until now. "Well... You both are on your own levels."

He gave you a look of disapproval before setting the cap back on the bottle. "What, bruh? You got them hippie pants on and now you all spiritual and shit?"

"No!" You laughed, "From what I remember, you were better at going slow and having me confused as if you wanted to put a ring on my finger or a baby in me." He was smirking as you explained. The funny thing was, you two were never involved in a romantic relationship. "Erik is good at destroying my walls and my back. He doesn't know how to take it slow and you didn't know how to be aggressive enough."

"Wow..."

Neesha came back with the two of your orders, "Enjoy!"

You both thanked her and began eating.

"I'm sure I can do both now." He smirked, taking a bite out of the sandwich.

"I know you can, I heard Bianca is pregnant." You decided to switch the conversation, just in case. "How does it feel to be a soon-to-be-father?"

"I'm scared as shit."

"Y'all didn't plan it?"

"Nah. It was an accident. My mom... She knew before us. That shit was so... Weird."

You shook your head while slicing your steak into smaller pieces, "Did you say you were a good role model to the youth? Take that back."

"Never. You live and you learn, that's what life is." He shrugged his shoulders.

The two of you continued to eat, while picking slight fun at each other here and there and talking about whatever. It felt like high school again.

"So, on a scale of one to ten how famous are you?"

"Ten being?"

"Kim Kardashian."

"I'd say five. I get noticed in public, paparazzi here and there. But I can still go to malls and shit. Well in Philly at least. I haven't been out too much since I got here."

"LA moves different I'm pretty sure. So you might be a five there, but an eight here. Only cuz you are from LA anyway."

"I thought it'd be the other way around, but who knows?"

"How many times have you been on The Shade Room?"

He leans his head back and starts laughing, "Maybe once or twice. I don't be on social media like that anyway."

"Oh nah, once you make it to the Shade Room, you definitely made it here."

"You follow that toxic ass page?" He raised an eyebrow at you, knowing you weren't into celebrity gossip and drama.

"Hell no, but I know what it's about. I was using it as a reference."

"I see." He nodded. "You know, after they had me on there, I got DMs for a good month. Bianca was pissed."

"I would be pissed too if the father of my child had random ass females all up in his messages. And I know you got nudes too."

He didn't respond, but there was a complacent look on his face.

"Ah! I knew it. She must've whooped your ass."

"Bruh, I was in the dog house for three months. And as soon as I got out, they had me back on that shit again! I had to delete my damn account." You were laughing at his distress.

No wonder you couldn't find him on social media.

"You think this is funny, wait till they got you on it. Everyone's gonna be on you, the good and the bad. Plus, the public ain't seen me since the conference and with the way you looking right now..."

"We'll be fine." You hoped.

When you both finished your meals and complimentary desserts (courtesy of the lovely Neesha), he insisted on paying. You weren't gonna argue, if he wanted to he could. You would do the tip. While she was preparing the bill, he pulled out a flyer and wrote something on the backside of it.

"Aye, Neesha? Here's that autograph you wanted."

She walked back over to the table, her eyes widening in excitement. "O-Oh my gosh, thank you so much!"

"No problem, see you in a couple of weeks." He winked at her once again.

Outside of the restaurant, just like he had said earlier, there were paparazzi surrounding the building, taking photos and yelling questions at the both of you.

Adonis how do you feel, are you ready to fight Drago's son?!

What were you eating in there, Donnie?

Make sure you work it off!

Who's that girl, is she your new fling?

Where's Bianca?

"Where's your car?" He asked over the many voices. You pointed to the black Honda CR-V and he held your arm, pushing past them. It would've helped if you brought your sunglasses to block out all the damn flashes. "Talk later?"

"Of course." You gave him a hug before entering the driver's side and started your car. You were careful not to run anyone over as you drove off the lot.

When you finally got back to your apartment, not even thirty minutes later, your phone started blowing up. You expected it to be Erik, but there were notifications from your friends, family members, random people on Instagram, Twitter and one from Erik.

You set the takeout bag for Erik on the counter and took the time to go over the notifications. Get the worst out the way... Instagram.

badgyalpookie89: I FOUND HER ACCOUNT

StA_nBi_anca: ARE YOU THE GIRL THEY SAW ADONIS WITH

__x.xx.Riz__: THIS IS HER

Eyemballed: Hold up? Adonis has dreads?! Y'all got mens dread wigs now? SKSKSK

Ugli__Gawdess: That nigga looks exactly like Creed wtf????

Mr_0Man0: That ass look gud y Creed ain't squeeze it I woulda gripped the fuck out them thangs

And there were tons of others under your most recent photo which was a picture of you in the mirror with your current outfit of the day, captioned: We meet again, friend...

They weren't too bad, but you decided to not read all of them, especially not the DMs.

To hopefully clear things up, you posted a picture of an old photo of the two of you at the science fair, and captioned it: Adonis has been my friend since high school, if you know, you know.

The Shade Room wasted no time in reposting your photo, just to show how closely they were following you. But you didn't want any of those problems that account brought.

You turned your account on private and decided that blocking the new two-hundred people that were able to follow you would have to wait for later tonight when you weren't doing anything. You didn't use Twitter too often so those notifications were always muted anyway, that would be the very least of your concerns.

Then you went to check your other messages from family and friends.

To sum it up it was all:

YOU'RE ON THE SHADEROOM!

CHECK THE SHADEROOM RN!

Do I really want to check it though... You contemplated. Honestly, as long as you didn't read the comments it couldn't be that bad.

There was pictures of you and him leaving the restaurant and even the picture where you two were hugging, and it appeared a little more than friendly. Even you could easily admit to that. The very last slide was a video of you both talking right before he hugged you.

Okay... Not as bad as I thought. Only because you didn't check the comments of course.

Then there was Erik's message.

You still bringing me food?

It was around the same time you and Adonis were bombarded by the paparazzi. He probably saw the post, hence the silence.

You checked the living room and the game was not on, neither was the TV. It was uncomfortably quiet. You went into your bedroom, almost bumping into him as he exited the bathroom, while rubbing his eyes.

"Jesus, Erik! You scared me."

He scoffed and continued walking.

"I know you're not giving me the silent treatment, on top of the silent treatment you already were giving me."

"I don't know what you talking about." He replied nonchalantly, brushing against you as he took a seat on the bed and stared dead in your face.

"Lemme guess, you saw the post?" You snorted.

"Explain why you was hugging up on another nigga? Going on dates behind my back and shit."

"I already told you it was lunch with a friend!" You began walking away, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back. "What?!"

"I said explain." His tone was more serious.

"There's nothing to explain other than that's my old friend from high school. Am I not allowed to talk to my friends, Erik?"

"Nah, I only want you talking to me."

Selfish... "Oh yeah, I can definitely do that when your ass is so occupied with 2K." You sarcastically replied.

"Of course you can. I told you to put that pussy on me a few nights ago, didn't I?"

You shoved his head and groaned, "I'm not gonna let you fuck me while you play your damn game. Especially not with your friends listening."

"It would be up to you if they heard you or not." He shrugged and gave a smug dimpled smirk.

"Nigga, get the fuck-" You wriggled free from his arms, but he caught you again and pulled you into his lap, hands resting against your bum cheeks.

"Hold up, we ain't done." The lust was evident in his eyes. "Lemme hit it."

You frowned at him, "So you would rather take me when I'm all dressed up, versus when I wore lingerie just for you! That's crazy."

"I'd fuck you even if you had two dookie braids, and a damn paper bag for a dress."

And with that, he had you on your back and out of your clothes within seconds.

It was finally the big day. Adonis had gifted you and Erik backstage passes like it was a concert. You always told him you'd rather not see him fight, but it was his first big show in LA. Everyone was anticipating it.

He was on so many shows being interviewed and asked questions about that mystery girl and Bianca's opinions towards it. There was one interview where Bianca was with him and she had to remind them that the interview was about the fight and not speculations.

Fortunately, she was a lot more understanding than the public. You were even able to talk each other to come to a common ground and understanding.

"You ready to meet your twin?" You asked Erik as you both stepped out of his Range Rover.

"We don't look alike, I already told you." Erik denied it so much it was crazy. You even showed Adonis a picture and he denied it too.

"I don't know how you don't see the resemblance. The only difference is your body composition, and hairstyles."

"And I look better." He added, and you rolled your eyes. That's exactly what Adonis said.

One of the trainers saw you walking into the building and lead you towards the group. Bianca was massaging his shoulders, while Rocky was giving him some form of pep talk.

"Yo, Donnie!" You called out and everyone turned to look at you.

Adonis looked irritated, but his expression softened as he saw you. He got off the bench and hugged you (to Erik's disapproval of course).

"Holy shit." Bianca gasped in awe.

Rocky stared at the two males, "You guys twins or something?"

"Hell nah." They both answered simultaneously.

"No way. You both look alike." Bianca said.

"I don't see it." Adonis frowned.

"Neither." Erik also frowned.

Everyone looked so amused by the similar expressions.

"I've seen lookalikes throughout my life, but this one is uncanny." One of the trainers rested his hand against his forehead in disbelief.

They both scoffed.

"They even got the same demeanour!" Bianca chuckled.

"That's what I said!" You agreed.

"Why don't you take a picture. This fight will be historic and so will this picture, huh." You gave the old Italian American man your phone with the camera already on. "Okay one, two, three." He snapped the photos, some with flash and some without.

You thanked Rocky, and took the phone back. "Okay look." You showed them both the photos. "I swear, all you have to do is wear the same outfit and E, you just gotta cut your dreads."

"I ain't cutting nothing."

"I know, I know. Then Adonis can grow his hair out instead."

"No way. I ain't doing all that."

"You'd look good with them." You teased.

"Hey, the fights gonna start in five minutes." One of the announcers told the group before heading to back to the arena.

Everyone gave their words of encouragement to Adonis, his nerves clearly spiked back up.

Bianca was the first to kiss him, and he even kissed her swollen belly as well. "You got this, D. Good luck."

"Don't let him intimidate you. Just remember everything we been working on alright." Rocky patted Adonis' shoulders.

The rest of the team gave their support, surprisingly Erik did too.

"He better fuck that nigga up. On me." It didn't hit you at first, but Erik has lost his father as well as Adonis, both around what they were passionate about. It was the start for all their childhood problems. No wonder they were so similar. He could really understand what it was like to want revenge, so it only made sense that he root for him.

Erik was already known (slightly infamous) and despite him denying his doppelgänger, he knew they looked alike. He didn't want his twin to ruin his reputation. Erik was well known for his growing achievements within the Black Ops unit. He didn't want to be acknowledged for anything less than what he was. Especially not to be mistaken for someone who looked like him and got their ass beat by the offspring of his father's killer, never in a million years.

Erik was also trained in boxing, but he preferred mixed martial arts. Boxing only came in handy if he needed to teach you self defence or if he was at the club fighting off a drunk person.

You kind of would like to see a fair fight between the two men, but at the same time you cared for them both and you were sure they could deal great damage to each other. Adonis was trained to knock someone out, (that already being the disadvantage) whereas Erik was trained to kill, so you couldn't promise Adonis' life after a fight.

You'd rather them not fight at all versus having them fight and end up losing one of them.

Before Adonis could head out, you made sure to give him a hug. "You got this, Donnie. Show 'em what it means to be a Creed."

"Thanks, nerd." He smiled and continued to make way onto the stage. He looked nice in the shorts that were similar to his dad's own.

You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt Erik bump you, "You staring too hard."

You cut your eyes at him, "I was not."

"Yes you were." He instigated, getting closer to your face each time.

"Wasn't."

"Were."

"Was not!"

"Were!"

"Come on y'all, fights about to start." One of the trainers called, holding the door open.

"Get out my face." You pushed Erik's head away and ran to catch the door.

He followed you, holding it from the top and gave your bum another one of his signature spanks and you yelped as you walked through.

They had to be long lost twins. Both were playful, annoying, proud, assholes. They had too much in common for it to be coincidence. Either way, you loved and cared for both of them very much. You were happy to know them both, regardless of anything, including Erik forgetting about you when a new 2K releases.

So yeah, that was that. Thank you for reading!

There will be no part 2!! This was just a quick idea.

P.S. If you were wondering what he handed the waitress, it was just a free pass to watch him box, along with an autograph and what not.

P.S.S. I edited this when I was sleepy so I know there are lots of mistakes lmao

(Start/Finish: September 21, 2019)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader #adonis creed #creed

195 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

Sleeping Beauty (Part 2)

Omg! Yes it is finally here! 2 years later I present to you, part 2 to Sleeping Beauty! I'm actually so excited for this, it took me so long, but I feel like I'm prepared to write it and keep the style that I started with. So enjoy!

Warnings: Violence, Smut

Relationship: Soulmates - King Erik x Reader

Weeks passed since Erik's last encounter with your dormant frame. He was tense, pacing around the throne room with heavy steps. The Dora, tribe leaders and servants watched him quietly as he dominated the room with his vexed aura.

It's not that he didn't succeed in his plan to embed spies in every nation and distribute vibranium across the globe. It was that pesky panther nagging at him in his dreams every single night.

She appeared to him in the ancestral plane, perched on a tree. Erik stood below, dressed in nothing, but his gold fanged necklace.

N'Jadaka, why are you so hesitant?

Fari was her name.

"What you talkin' about?" He regarded her with no respect, the irritation laced in his tone.

Have we not guided you enough?

We... The ancestors? Erik assumed.

"Guided me?"

You are intelligent, N'Jadaka. Whether you choose to use your cleverness or not, it is up to you. The she-panther leaped off of the tree and circled around the man.

He watched her with his eyes, never moving from his place in the tall grass.

Listen to your heart.

Erik's eyes narrowed at Fari.

Ever since coming to Wakanda, Erik felt as though everyone was treating him like he was a naive child. Constantly they would give him cliché advice or try to alter his well-thought out plans. Erik knew what he was doing, he didn't need anyones outside opinions.

Just mere hours ago, he had awoken from his slumber. Heavy eyes and a cloudy mind. Erik felt ill despite the heart-shaped herbs enhancing abilities, but a weak mind makes a weak man.

In his previous dream, Fari mentioned that he appeared smaller as if the large man had lost mass.

Though he didn't want to admit it, his clothing fitting him loosely was more than enough proof. Even his weight lifting seemed more rigid than normal.

This ailment only began to occur since he stopped visiting you.

Erik decided to visit the king's personal doctor.

"My king, this is not much of a physical problem." She explained, shifting a braid behind her small ear. "Nor is it something I can fix."

His dark eyes narrowed at her, as he did to the she-panther.

"Ain't that your job?" Erik gibed at the doe-eyed doctor.

Ignoring him, she proceeds, "Have you been to the ancestral plane lately?" He only nods hesitantly. "Then that means you are near your soulmate and you must find her quickly."

"Or?"

"Or you both will perish." She explained in a soft tone, avoiding his eyes.

He couldn't believe his ears. The king wanted to think she was fooling him, as was the servant girl, Anathi. But as he could feel himself grow more weak, choices were limited in believing what was true or false.

"Who am I?" Erik asked the members of the room. His pacing stopped, back facing them.

The princess was not there to list every one of his titles as she did on their first encounter.

"Hm?" He turned around, arms crossed over his scarred chest.

Everyone was afraid to speak up, expecting him to lash out as he'd usually do.

"You are the king." W'Kabi spoke up proudly, his wife eyeing him callously.

He chuckled, "Then why do I feel like y'all still not getting it? I ask questions and I get bullshit responses."

"My king, we are being very honest with you." Anathi had voiced.

"Lying would be pointless and would not benefit anyone." An elder added.

"Y'all keep giving me the runaround. I ask about that girl, and you're telling me shit about a fairy tail?" The volume of his voice grew.

Some of the members had rolled their eyes in secrecy.

It always came down to the sleeping girl. Maybe it was time they encouraged him to see if he was the real connection.

"Would you like to try and awaken her, King N'Jadaka?" One of the elders suggested.

Okoye almost stepped out of line to dismiss the proposal, silencing herself as she realized that sacrificing her position in protecting Wakanda would've been a grave mistake.

She had made a promise to T'Challa prior to his battle, that no matter what, he could entrust her to protect you regardless of his outcome. But what could she really do now?

Besides, a man like him could never be the one for you.

Why are you still hesitating, N'Jadaka? Fari had questioned him again in his slumber. What is it that is holding you back?

"If I knew I would tell you." He frowned at her.

You have always been a man of action.

"You don't know nothing about me."

I know a lot more than you think, Young Prince.

"I'm not a prince, I'm a king."

Oh?

The panther appeared much taller than him, as did the tall grass. Her golden eyes shined brightly, rivalling the moon.

Erik looked onto himself, a much smaller frame appearing before his very eyes.

"What did you-" He held his neck, shocked at the pre-pubescent voice that came from his throat.

It is not what I did, N'Jadaka. She leaped back into the tree, resting her head onto her paws. Time is ticking, Young Prince.

Erik rose out of his sleep in a cold sweat, glancing into the mirror to check that he wasn't the eight-year old boy from Oakland, but the man who he grew to be.

The bathroom tile was cold underneath his bare feet, but the hot water soothed his tense muscles. Fari's words ran through his mind as the water cascaded down his large frame.

He shook his head and chucked, intentionally she had called him a child without words.

Sneaky panther...

"I ain't a fuckin' kid no more." Erik silently spoke to himself.

Erik waltzed into the garden where the heart-shaped herb once grew, now replaced with other greens and flowers. Anathi was tending to a patch of peace lilies along side her grandmother.

"Yo." He called out, their attention turning onto him.

Anathi raised from her dirtied knees, dusting them off. "My King?"

"Follow me." Erik commanded, turning on heel his immediately. I hope you're watching me now, Fari.

The young girl's feet shuffled quickly towards the king, not wanting to anger him as he'd been so tense lately.

The walk was silent, she carefully watched Erik in case he were to try anything. Their strolls usually consisted of him nagging her, but this time he remained silent, dark eyes focused on the corridor ahead of him.

She couldn't be at ease because it felt as though he was still on guard, but he hadn't even glanced at the girl since leaving the garden.

Anathi had recognized the path he'd taken, one that lead to the room located underneath the sunroof.

His hands rested on the handles, pausing before looking over his shoulder. "You said a kiss should work, right?"

"Y-yes, your highness." She nodded, hands clasped together.

"You do realize what'll happen if it fails." He threatened with a low voice, almost a snarl.

Anathi bit her lower lip before nodding once again, "Y-yes."

An amused sound silently came from his throat before pulling on the golden handles. It was always like a fresh of breath air once the doors opened. The air was so pure, feeling like a hug to his nostrils when he inhaled.

As Erik approached, his eyes fell onto your frame, too appearing smaller and slightly frail. This time, the palace servants had your curls styled into flat twists, pinned up into a bun. One of their daughters had crafted a flower crown and laid it around your head.

Anathi had remained outside, planning on her escape. This could be her chance to have a possible head start in case all failed.

Erik gently ran the back of his hand down your face, the beating in his heart increased, and that nagging feeling that he would compare to a raging sea became calm.

This would finally be the moment of truth...

His deft fingers lifted your chin, bringing your lips closer to his until they had finally touched together.

It felt... like... nothing?

Not exactly sure why, but Erik had expected a feeling of electricity to shoot through his body. He had expected his soulmate to spring awake, deepening the kiss to solidify the truth. But this was real life, not a damn fairy tail.

It wasn't magical nor did it feel like anything truly happened. Your body still felt lifeless, but the beating of your heart indicated otherwise. Not even a little sound indicating that you were soon going to awaken was given to him.

What Erik wanted, Erik never got.

That made the man very angry. He slowly released and departed from you, fiery eyes looking onto Anathi whose knees were visibly shaking.

It didn't work...

The only three words replaying through his head as he aggressively approached the servant girl, fingers digging into her shoulder. She silently winced, wishing that she had ran as she had planned earlier.

They must take me for a joke.

He summoned another meeting calling everyone in.

You want something to laugh at, oh imma fuckin' give it to y'all.

By time they had arrived to the throne room, all members were there, silently watching as he dragged the girl and tossed her to the centre of the floor.

Her grandmother helplessly watched, fearing for her grandchild's life.

"Y'all like to tell lies, huh? That apart of Wakandan culture?" He accused, arms folded over his chest. "Hm? You like to make niggas look like idiots?"

The members were quiet, uncertain of what had happened.

"She still asleep!" Erik shouted loudly, some of the members had jolted.

"M-my king, we did not say that you were the chosen one." A woman from the river tribe reasoned. "Only the one who is the chosen shall know."

Erik's eyes cut sharply onto the woman, "What?" He seethed.

Her hands squeezed onto the man beside her, as the look in his eyes were terrifying.

This pent up rage was both confusing and extremely concerning to everyone. This woman he had never met before had driven his emotions through the roof, even more so than T'Challa had done.

Calm down, N'Jadaka. Fari counselled in his mind.

The king was terribly angry. I'll show you calm.

"I think we need some new rules." He declared, nodding. "A lie for a life? I think that's fair."

Still silent, the members had looks of disapproval. Not that Erik was looking for an outside opinion, he was sick of being lied to and played around with. Maybe they could try that with T'Challa, but whatever he decided, it was finite.

Erik approached Anathi, lifting her from the cold ground in one hand. Her breathing was constricted as his grasp around her neck was tight.

Smaller hands beat on his with no avail, her consciousness slowly slipping further and further away.

"This is what y'all want?! Huh?!" Erik taunted the horrified and helpless members.

Would you really kill a child, Young Prince?

Shut the fuck up! He wanted to scream at Fari.

No longer was he going to allow her to treat him like a child.

Tears streamed down Anathi's puffy cheeks, rolling onto his hand and between each finger. Quiet cries came from her grandmother who was being consoled by those around her.

Erik callously watched the life force being drained from the girl.

"Stop!" A new voice had emerged into the air.

Audible gasps flooded the room, Erik too was caught off guard, releasing Anathi to fall onto the ground.

He turned around, knees almost buckling at the sight in front of him.

"She lives." Okoye rejoiced with a rare smile on her face.

You stood there, staring at the new man you had never seen before, but oddly enough it felt as if you had known him for a much longer time than reality said.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, standing tall and strong. Though he had one of your best friends in a vice grip, it was almost impossible to be truly angry at him.

The astounded look in his eyes captivated you, drawing you closer and closer.

Only mere moments ago were his eyes filled with wrath, something that you would never see.

Who is he?

Erik had stared you down, feeling frozen in time as you drew closer to not him, but the girl on the ground.

"Anathi, ingaba ulungile (are you alright)?" Your hands gently touched the young girl, disturbed by the bruise forming around her neck.

"Uvukile (you are awake)." She hoarsely voiced in amazement.

It hadn't felt that long for you personally, but it certainly was for those who were still staring at you in complete shock.

You stood up to get a better look at the stranger who had almost taken the poor girl's life, and for what?

"Ungubani (who are you)?" You sternly inquired, poking at his chest sharply.

A spark had zapped you, both of you recoiling.

Erik had received that fairy tail shock he was initially expecting, but what no one else expected was the smile that grew on his face for the first time ever, a genuine one.

"So you are my soulmate?"

"And you are mine." Erik said.

It took a lot of time for him to explain his initial reason for coming to Wakanda, and how he had not expected to find his soulmate locked away and trapped under a spell.

"If you are king, then that must mean-"

Erik nodded.

This would be the hard part to explain, but whatever happens, soulmate bonds were strong and could never be broken.

Processing your emotions over T'Challa's death was both confusing and hard. You wanted to be upset, you wanted to cry, you wanted to be mad, but none of the emotions came to pass.

Sure it had been a long time since you fell under the spell, but you certainly did not expect your Prince Charming to also be the new ruler and murderer of King T'Challa.

Weeks passed and Erik had spent his time courting and getting to know you. It was all incredibly flattering, but alas, T'Challa still ran through your mind.

He was suppose to marry you, and you would give him an heir.

But all was changed once this American man had stepped his foot onto the Wakanda soil.

Erik slept soundly in the large canopy bed, his large arms wrapped behind his head. You remained awake, thinking about the previous king, the princess and the queen.

Vengeance.

You pondered, soulmate bonds cannot be permanent. If I sever his ties to the earth, I can be set free.

A knife laid tucked underneath the bed.

It was now or never.

Without leaving the bed, your hand slid against the marble floor, feeling for the weapon. The sharp edge pricked your index finger slightly indicating its location, so you raise it from the floor cautiously.

The man remained fast asleep, as peaceful as ever.

Your legs went on either side of Erik, careful not to sit down on him, the knife was pointed straight to his heart. Tiny droplets of blood dripped from your finger and onto his chest.

If I really love T'Challa I will do this for him.

One breath in and the knife went down swiftly, eyes closed.

The problem was, there was no separation of tissue, no splatter of blood, no pained groaned.

Your eyes had opened, staring into the ones that captivated you earlier. They were void of anger or fear, but rather filled with bewilderment.

His much stronger hands squeezed arounds yours softly, holding the knife mere millimetres from penetrating his chest.

His hips bucked, flipping you over, knocking the knife away. The positions had switched as he was now on top, trapping your hands above your head.

"Y-you killed him!" The outburst had come from you, breaking the silence.

Immediately knowing who this was about, Erik explained. "It was ritual combat, he agreed to the conditions."

There was no resentment in his tone, it was so delicate and caring.

"I loved him."

"Yes, you loved him. But honestly tell me now, do you still love him?"

"I do." A fast response, with no chance to think. It was a lie.

"Then why do you lie in this bed with me?" He questioned, eyes peering deep into yours. "Why does my heart beat so calmly when you're around?"

"That is only you." You argued.

"Every time I touch you, I feel something." He placed his hand just above your bosom. "I know you feel it too."

You did, just then too. The way he was looking at you only made you want him even more.

But T'Challa...

An unresolved battle persisted in your mind.

"You're the reason I can't show you all I can give. You still holding onto the nigga who couldn't even wake you up, baby."

Bottom lip pulled between teeth, you tried to look away, but could not.

"Do you love him?"

As much as you wanted to scream yes, it wouldn't happen. It was a lie.

Was it fear? Uncertainty?

"Why you so hesitant, (y/n)?" Erik was surprised to find himself asking you the same question Fari had asked him all that time ago.

Your eyes had looked away, confronting the situation felt like betrayal to T'Challa.

"If you don't want me, tell me to leave."

You could not.

You wanted him, needed him to be here with you.

"I ain't believe it at first, but this soulmate shit is real..."

"But T'Challa-"

"Did nothing..."

You stared at the king silently, resisting him would be next to impossible. The glow of the moon enhancing his features beautifully.

"Ask me to leave." He demanded once again.

"I-I can't... I need you."

Three words Erik was delighted to hear.

Your head lifted to capture his lips between yours. Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. Erik spread your hands apart, wrapping his fingers between yours to deepen the kiss. Your head rested back against the plush comforter, tingles coursing through each body. He detached for air, giving you the chance as well before claiming your soft lips again. He came in hungrier, more passionate than the first time, unclasping his fingers from your left hand and raising your neck.

His thick lips latched onto your neck, sucking against the skin. The warm scent of vanilla filled his nose pleasantly, the taste sweet against his tongue.

Moans escaped your mouth as he precisely worked his lips around your frame. Now resting above your breasts, Erik gazes into your eyes for approval, in which you granted him.

The long silk garment was removed from your body, revealing a pair breast and erect nipples waiting to be licked. His large hand grasps the right as his head moves to the left, latching onto it hungrily.

Your fingers run over his head, holding them as he skillfully attended to your breasts. Soft moans filled his ears, encouraging him to continue.

He detached, sliding down even further where a wet patch had exposed you.

A smirk graced his lips as he pealed the blue panties away from your body.

Erik positioned himself between your thighs, bending your legs up and over to allow him better access to your dripping core.

He trailed kisses on each thigh before placing one onto your centre. A shiver coursed through your body as he increased the intensity with his tongue.

Experience wouldn't even be the best word to describe his precision.

The moans that were leaving your body were no longer quiet and sultry, rather loud and desperate. Your fingers grabbed his dreads as his tongue continued its assault onto your clit. The further Erik pushed his tongue in, the louder your volume grew.

Pressure continuously built up inside of your core, and shortly after, you had released onto him. There was a lot, nothing that you were expecting.

"Damn, baby." He marvelled with a wet jaw. Erik stood up to remove his bottoms.

The monster growing in his pants sprung free, bobbing slightly and menacingly at you.

But suddenly you had realized something.

I'm a virgin...

Erik noticed the change in your eyes, it appeared more like fear than anything. And not the 'there's no way it's gonna fit' fear.

"What's wrong?"

"I... I've never done this before."

He chuckled, grateful that he would be your first. "That ain't no problem. I got you, baby."

Shyly nodding, you lie back down with a shaky breath. His hands hook underneath your knees, bending them towards your chest. He lubricates his member against your folds before coating it with a hand.

He watched you, watching him. "Don't tense up on me."

You nod again, watching him move closer until it poked at your entrance. A sharp exhale left your mouth as he pushed in slightly.

"Just breathe, you good." Erik coaxes you. Your hands find the bedsheets, nails digging firmly into them.

His member breached even deeper, causing a pained sound to leave your lips. He slows down, giving you time to adjust.

"O-okay, go." You stuttered, allowing him to fit the rest in.

He pressed down slowly but firmly, letting out a moan of his own.

"This shit so tight." He groaned in pleasure, bitting his lower lip.

Ocne he had bottomed, a spark coursed through both his and your veins. It felt as though an even deeper connection had been made, solidifying the meaning of soulmate bonds.

Erik's hips moved backward, removing some of the pressure off of your cervix, but it came back as soon as he moved again.

"Ungh- shit." You winced, trying to manage the strokes.

He continued a slow pace, just for you to adjust. It wasn't going to be a purely pleasurable experience, especially not for the first time, but it wasn't all painful either.

When you finally relaxed his pace increased, thrusts moving more efficiently in and out of you.

"N'Jadaka, ohhh!" You whimpered, eyes shut, body bouncing underneath him.

He admired you underneath the moonlight. Eyes closed, eyebrows narrowed, mouth ajar. The moans, your voice, all so pleasing to him.

She is beautiful.

His lips moved back onto your neck as he forced his hips against yours. Juices mixing with each other, adding to the sounds of heavy breathing and moaning.

Erik had you in multiple positions, each one causing a different sensation. He had you flat on your stomach, his feet planted on the ground, Erik had sloppily thrusted into you until the both of your climaxes were achieved.

Tears rested on your cheek, air flowed in and out heavily as your tried to catch your breath. Sore, but very satisfied.

He pulled you against his body. Sweat moistened your skins, and despite your fatigue, Erik looked ready for another round.

Had to be the effects of the heart-shaped herb.

The intense feeling in each body had finally settled steadily, a deeper connection had been formed and you both knew for certain that soulmate bonds were real. A man who came and caused an uproar brought both dark and light onto the Wakandan nation.

He brought your knuckles against his lips. "My queen, I am yours and you are mine."

"My king, and my soulmate." You contently responded, awaiting all that was to come in the near future.

I am so happy I finally finished part 2 (the final part) to Sleeping Beauty. It's literally been 2 years LOL!

I hope you enjoyed, especially for those who requested!

(Start/Finish: March 31 - April 1, 2020)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

34 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

Sleeping Beauty (Part 1)

(I'm no longer going to warn you guys about swearing cuz it's to be expected. Also, I'm not making anymore warnings about spoilers either) No Warnings for this chapter.

Relationship: Soulmates - King Erik x Reader

What no one knew was that Erik didn't only come to Wakanda to seek revenge, or to claim his spot on the throne, but a powerful force kept him searching. Searching throughout his time at MIT, on missions, and sometimes in Oakland on any regular day... It nagged him day and night, keeping him up at times. But as soon as he crossed the Wakandan border, the feeling started to ease off of his chest...

You were placed under a spell 3 years ago on your 18th Birthday, laid to rest in a small room similar to a garden with plants, flowers and herbs native to Wakanda. Each flower possessing healing powers in hopes to keep you alive in your dormant state.

You were not related to the royal family by blood, rather you were King T'Challa's love interest. He was going to propose to you as soon as you awoken from your slumber. Unfortunately, a stranger who entered the border had other plans that would change the both of your lives.

He was clearly a foreigner. American, W'Kabi decided, hearing the young man speak. He presented the nation with a gift. More like a cruel joke, some would say, but with reason.

Erik was granted access into Wakanda, hands tied behind his back before meeting the king. He entered the throne room, in a cocky manner, where everyone was called to inspect this stranger. All eyes were on Erik, but he was too busy looking around the room, thinking about how he would be taking over, and making the palace his.

T'Challa commands Erik, in which W'kabi translates, "Speak."

Erik felt a rush before answering, "I'm stayin' in ya house. Serving justice to a man who stole your vibranium and murdered ya people... Justice your king couldn't deliver."

How insulting, the audacity of this man to walk in this room like he owned it, then to one up with the King of Wakanda!

Upset from his failed mission, T'Challa got off of his throne and approached Erik, Okoye and the Dora Milaje following behind.

"I don't care that you brought Klaw. Only reason I don't kill you where you stand is because I know who you are. Now what do you want?"

"I want the throne."

His words erupted a mocking laughter from each corner of the room. Him? The king? Ha, as if.

Erik wasn't phased by the ridicule, he explained to them why he would be a better king, and the blindness of Wakanda.

T'Challa was not happy with Erik's choice of words, and made sure that he knew that the people of Wakanda mean a lot to him. The rest of the world can handle themselves.

"Son, we have entertained this charlatan for too long, reject his request." Queen Ramonda stepped in.

"Oh, I ain't requestin' nothing. Ask who I am."

"You are Erik Stevens," Shuri voiced, everyone looking at her, "An American Black Operative, a mercenary nicknamed Killmonger, that is who you are."

Though proud of his name, Shuri missed out on one very important title, "That's not my name, princess. Ask me, King."

"No." T'Challa declined.

"Ask me." He jeered him on.

T'Challa turned around, heading back to his rightful seat on the throne. "Take him away." He demanded with a simple hand gesture.

But... There's always that one person who doesn't know how to keep quiet.

"Ungubani!" The Elder from the River Tribe called out.

"I am N'Jadaka, son of Prince N'Jobu! I found my daddy with panther claws in his chest! You ain't the son of a king, you're the son of a murderer!"

All members in the throne room were stunned, conversations coming from all around. N'Jadaka? Son of Prince N'Jobu? But how can this be? He's only an American!

Disgusted, Queen Ramonda stepped forward calling out, "Lies!"

"I'm afraid not, Queen Mother." He raised a familiar piece of jewelry in his hand, and everyone gasped in disbelief.

She demanded W'Kabi to show her the necklace up close.

"Hey, Auntie." He smirked and said without a hint of shame in his voice. "I'm exercising my blood right. I challenge for the mantle of king and Black Panther!"

Panic was wide spread across the room, but T'Challa remained calm accepting the challenge.

A fatal mistake that he made...

Mere moments later, Erik sat upon his throne talking down to everyone as if they were children, despite the age differences. He educated them on how he was going to run Wakanda, and how he would conquer America and end all of the messed up shit going on there.

After the meeting came to an end, Erik was given a tour of the palace by a dainty servant named Anathi. His crude personality and aggressive nature placed fear onto the poor girl who was no older than 17. She feared messing up, already knowing the wrath of her new King.

"This is the library," She did her best to speak confidently while opening the large mahogany door, "We have all kinds of books from around the world. The king has his private room to read as well, if you're into that kind of thing."

"Nah..." He wasn't even paying attention to her, his attention was fixed onto something else, "Show me that room."

The girl turned around to see what he was talking about. His index finger was aimed at a room, located right underneath the sunroof. It appeared to be a garden, but there laid a female body.

Before Anathi could even take the lead, Erik guided himself towards the room. It was almost as if it were pulling him in.

"Y-your highness, wait." She called to him, but of course, he didn't take orders from anyone.

He grabbed onto the golden handles, pulling the door, but it would not open.

"Why is it locked?"

"We cannot allow anyone in there, your highness. Not even you."

Erik glared at Anathi from the corner of his eyes, her knees almost buckled. "Why not?" He asked sharply.

"It might interfere with her healing."

Healing? Erik thought to himself. "Where's the key?"

"Um, there's no key... There's a spell placed on the door."

"And who can break it?"

"N-no one, only she can."

Erik rolled his eyes, "Why lie?"

She didn't respond and he chuckled at her silence.

"You thought I ain't notice." He smirked, "Yeah, I know you got some tricks up ya sleeve." He grabbed her collar, "Open the fuckin' door."

Scared shitless, she wobbled over to the door and ran her hands across it in a pattern. "T-there, it's open."

"Nah, you open it first. Just in case y'all trynna set me up."

"It's not a trap, your highness."

"What did I ask you to do?" He rose his voice.

Anathi complied, grasping the two handles and pulled the door open. She stepped to the side, allowing Erik to access the room.

The first thing he noticed was your dormant body, and that feeling he was experiencing became steady.

"This is, (y/n), she was placed under a spell a few years ago. We thought she was poisoned, but T'Challa saved her. He gathered all of these lovely seeds, planting them specifically for her. He didn't want her to perish like a normal flower, she was special to him. He loves h-"

Erik's hand was around Anathi's throat, holding her in the air, "I ain't come to hear allat sappy shit. Now be a good servant and get the fuck out before you get just like her. But I'll make sure it ain't no flowers keeping you alive." He dropped her small frame onto the ground and she immediately scampered away from the area.

Erik watched you from a distance, admiring your every feature. Today your hair was neatly braided into a bun, while your frame was covered in a satin red gown defining your goddess-like figure. The palace servants, like Anathi, made sure that you were taken care of in terms your hygiene. They did your hair every month, trimmed your nails and changed your outfit, as cleanliness was very important to the people of Wakanda.

He wondered what you were like, how you sounded, what your interests were.

Though he didn't know you, it felt like you've known each other since birth. This feeling driving him closer to you, wanting to know who you are... It made him go crazy... This feeling caused by a mere woman?

This ain't that soulmate bond shit- Nah, it couldn't be. He tried to brush off the thought.

He left the room, carefully locking the door.

Surely he would return soon.

"I ain't ask for that, just gimme her status report." He huffed, frustrated, sitting on his new throne.

"Sh-she's in perfect condition, your h-" Anathi stuttered, her eyes gazing onto the floor, head low. For the past month, Erik continued to pester her about your condition. She wondered what his fascination with you was, but she wouldn't dare to ask him that.

"Then why the fuck she still sleep?"

"It's a spell."

"Then break it."

"I cannot... I am not her true love."

Erik deadpanned, almost laughed too. "True love? Stop playing with me, this ain't no fairy tale princess bullshit. This is real life!" He got up from the throne, towering over the poor girl. "You better find a way to wake her up."

Anathi hesitated for a moment, she was afraid to wake you up out of her concerns for you meeting the new king. Your heart and loyalty laid with T'Challa, you would never betray him. Anathi feared that Erik would try to kill you, or make you a servant, to tend to his every need.

His gaze was burning into her flesh as if he knew she had the key to waking you out of your slumber, "A-alright," She gave in, "There is a way..."

The silence from Erik indicated that she could continue to speak.

"I was serious when I said true love..."

Erik rolled his eyes.

"I'm not sure if you ever heard of soulmates, but there is a thing called Soulmate Bonds. It's a very powerful attraction between the two people. Ki- I mean, T'Challa has tried to wake up her, but it has not worked... We're not even positive he is the right one."

Erik scoffed, "Y'all are really on some shit."

Ignoring his statement, she continued, "This may sound silly, but a kiss would do the trick... We're trying to find a possible match, but we don't want a thousand different men kissing her."

And Erik sure as hell would not want that to happen either...

He made his way to the door.

"Where are you going, King?"

"Don't worry about it, you're dismissed for now... Aye and clean up, you're drowning in sweat."

Erik strode down the long corridors of the palace, following a familiar shortcut that he discovered within two weeks of walking exploring that vast space. He soon found himself at the door where your body rested. Anathi made it easily accessible for him so she would not have to follow him down every visit. He pulled the handles and entered the room.

This visit, your curls were styled in an up-do, and you were dressed in a bright green, pink and yellow dashiki dress that complimented your melinated skin.

Erik approached you, his hand running across your cheek. He felt chills through his body. Is this love? He pondered. Am I her soulmate? He stared at your lips, wondering if what Anathi said was true, or if she was trying to make him look like a fool. His thumb gently pulled your bottom lip down, revealing your pearly whites.

For all the times that Erik has come down to see you, he never tried to cross the boundaries. But each visit made it harder and harder for him to keep his hands off of you. If he was actually the one for you, he could brag about it for the rest of his life. T'Challa could not do it, this would prove Erik more worthy than him.

"A kiss, huh..." Erik said to himself, chuckling at the ludicrous situation. His hands cupped the bottom of your chin as he leaned in, centimetres away from your face. But the only thing that made contact with you was his forehead that pressed against yours. It was moments like these that made him feel human again, not like the killing machine he was designed to be. He was at ease in your presence, which sure confused the hell out of him, but at least he was happy.

Maybe not today...

And with that, Erik lifted himself up and made his way out of the room.

To be continued...

Okay so I decided to make this a two part one-shot, only because it's taking me forever to update this and it might be a really long chapter if its just one whole thing.

P.S. This month is going to be very busy for me, so I'll try to update whenever possible.

(Start/Finish: May 25-June 2, 2018)

#killmonger fic #killmonger x reader #black reader

32 notes · View notes

anime-kia · 1 year

Text

Not As Easy As It Looks

I'm not kidding when I tell you guys that I'm obsessed with Dadmonger.

Relationship: Father Erik x Mother Reader

"Bruh, they bout to be late again!" Erik called to you as you chased your five-year-old son, Jojo, while holding your crying one-year-old, Ameena, who was pulling at your hoop earring.

You ignored him and called out for your three-year-old, "Nasir!" You could feel an impending migraine coming on from your loud children and Erik's nagging.

Who the hell told me to have three kids in the first place? Oh right... My dumbass believing that Erik's pullout game was strong.

You finally caught Jojo and gave him a stern look telling him to go to his father right away. Ameena was still bawling for no reason, but your motherly instincts allowed you to overhear something crash to floor in the kitchen. There you found the three-year-old standing in jam, while rummaging through the fridge as if you hadn't fed him ten minutes ago. He was already gaining weight on top of his baby fat.

"Little boy, we need to leave." You decided to come at him with a gentle approach as a means to calm yourself down.

He looked at you with that innocent smile similar to yours that always melted your heart. Nasir and Ameena looked more like you and Jojo looked more like Erik.

"Okay, Mommy." He calmly replied, walking out the kitchen towards Erik, but you were suspicious. When you go over to inspect the fridge, you could feel your blood pressure rising.

The child emptied out every single leftover container into the fridge, and one of the chicken legs had a huge bite. You were so annoyed that you didn't notice the jam soaking into your sock.

"(Y/n)!" Erik called again.

You were ready to tell him to shut the hell up, but instead you walked back to the front door. Ameena reached out for her father and stopped her unnecessary sobbing. The two boys were in their jackets and shoes, looking like scholars as if they weren't just causing havoc.

"Hey, Princess." He cooed at her, kissing her chubby cheeks. He finally looked at you, "Damn baby, Meena got you." He pointed at a stain of vomit on your shirt, just above your left breast. Of course you didn't notice it or feel it until now. The two boys laughed.

You deadpanned, and went to open the front door. "Get out. All of you."

"Bye, Mommy!" Jojo and Nasir ran out, assuming you were playing.

"You just gone kick us out like that?" He looked fake hurt, but you nodded. "Meena, too?"

"Out, Erik." You held the door even wider.

"Can I at least get a kiss?"

A frown plastered your face and he took the hint.

"Damn, your mama is mean as hell. Ain't that right, Meena?" You could hear her babble to him as you locked the door.

The house was finally silent. Peace and quiet was very rare these days. It was always you who got up early to get your kids ready for school. Usually, Ameena would be asleep, but this morning she had to go see her pediatrician. Initially you were going to take her, but it was your well deserved day off and you needed all of those 8 hours of silence to yourself. You both agreed that he stay out with the kids all day until dinner time.

Erik was by no means a deadbeat, in fact he cared for his kids a lot. Growing up the way he did and not wishing it on anyone else, he promised to always be there for them no matter what.

While you got the kids ready in the mornings and at night, he would either be sleeping (due to exhaustion from work) or preparing their lunches and breakfast or dinner. He would also handle some private business that you did not inquire about, he paid the bills and as far as you knew, he was safe. Though it would be nice if he did acknowledge that your job of getting three young children ready was not easy all while maintaining a steady nine to five.

"Mama!" Two small, but heavy bodies jumped onto your bed then crashed into you. How they still have energy, only Bast knows. You were curled up in your king sized bed, binge watching your favourite series on Netflix. Has it really been eight hours already... Internally you groan, but being welcomed by your two sons with so much love always made you happy.

"Hey, boys. How was your day?" You smiled, allowing the to cuddle underneath your arms.

"Good!" They both yelled at the same time. Jojo was the first to explain what he learned at school and then what happened after Erik picked them up from school. He took them out to the park, then to the basketball court and then to get ice cream.

"Hold on, the basketball court?" You slightly frown, "Who was playing?"

"Daddy and his friends." Nasir chimed in.

"Then who was watching Ameena?"

"This pretty lady that Daddy was talking to." Jojo admitted.

Your eyes widened, but before you could say anything, Erik came in the room, Ameena fast asleep in his arms. "Damn, so y'all just gone tell on me like that?"

They boys giggled and ran away.

"Now before you say anything, she's just a friend. And she don't fuck with dudes either."

You glared at him, deciding not to prolong that conversation. "Whatever, E. Just call me when they're done eating dinner so I can get them ready for bed."

He chuckled, "Bruh, why you make it sound like it's a challenge?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Are you friggin' serious?"

"Yeah, it can't be that hard."

A smirk graced your lip. "Fine then, you take care of getting them ready tomorrow."

"Bet."

The alarm went off for six-thirty. You were already out of bed, almost forgetting your deal with Erik. He remained fast asleep on his stomach.

You shook him, "Come on, baby. It's time to get the kids up." You said in a soft voice that you used on your children in the morning.

"Naw, five more minutes." He grumbled from his pillow.

"Ain't no five minutes." This time you violently shook his arm.

"Aight, aight! I'm up, shit!" He pulled the covers off his body and gave you a serious look. "Why you wearing that?" He looked up and down with hazy eyes at your sports bra and leggings set.

"I'm going to a yoga class." You smirked, and began spreading the bed. "Oh and good luck."

He scoffed and made his way to the bathroom. After taking a shower, he began to brush his teeth, but Ameena's cry sounded through the baby monitor. His first reaction would be to call you, but you were long gone before he got out the shower.

Erik was not finished, so he left the brush in his mouth and went down the hall to his daughter's room. She was standing in the crib, holding onto the bars, rattling them. He set his toothbrush down and lifted her out of the crib, rocking her on his side.

"What's up, baby girl? You hungry?" She only continued crying, so he made his way down to the kitchen with her snuggling against his side. It was already 7:05.

He opened the fridge expecting to see pre-made bottles, but you always made them fresh.

"Dang, I gotta make this from scratch?"

He sat Ameena down in her high chair, but this only made her cries even louder. Her little legs banged against the seat as she fussed.

"Hold on, mama. Let me get your bottle."

He searched high and low for the formula, realizing that he's never paid enough attention to see what it actually looked like. He read almost every label and food item in your cupboards. Not to mention, but it was a big house, with a big kitchen and a lot of cupboards. Just then he remembered, you assigned a special storage for your kids snacks so it would likely be in there. It was higher up so they couldn't get to it, but he did find it.

"Got it!" He applauded himself and began reading the instructions. He might as well have been reading in a foreign language, not that he didn't already understand a few, but this was very new. Eventually he did figure it out and put the bottle in the microwave for two minutes.

"Daddy?" A sad voice recognized as Nasir echoed to him. He watched his son enter the kitchen with a pouty face, one hand holding his fuzzy panther. "Where's mommy?"

"She's out right now, but she'll be back."

"I have to go potty."

"Can you hold it for a bit?"

"No, I'm gonna pee pee myself." Erik sighed and rushed to take him to the toilet in the downstairs bathroom. "Ah shi- I mean shoot. Hold up." He ran back into the kitchen to get Ameena who was still complaining.

Her little arms reached out to him as he pulled her out of the high chair. The microwave beeped, signalling that her bottle was ready. He pulled it out the microwave and handed it to her. Just as she was about to drink it, he gently pulled it from her grasp, the silence was broken instantly. She cried even louder than the last time.

"Daddy!" Nasir yelled from the bathroom.

"Just a second!" He replied, "My bad, Meena." He rocked her again. "Daddy's forgot to test it." He tested a patch on the back of his hand, and it was very hot. Erik set the bottle and Ameena down, getting an ice cube out of the freezer. He put it in the bottle and shook it up, testing it once again. "Better." He picked her up and gave her the bottle. She was finally silenced, suckling on the bottle, tears still falling from her eyes.

Erik made his way back to the bathroom, only to see a dark blue stain on his son's light blue PJ's. A puddle formed on the black tiles. He noted to clean that up later.

"I pee peed." Nasir said, on the verge of crying.

"That's alright, little man." Erik sighed. He brought them upstairs, and set Ameena on Nasir's bed, where she continued to drink from her bottle quietly. "Get undressed, you gotta take a shower."

Erik went to Jojo's room, entering and waking him out of his sleep.

"Come on bro, time to get up."

Jojo groaned and turned his body so his back faced Erik.

Hell... Erik thought, He's just like you.

Erik yanked the covers off of his son, "Up! Let's go."

Jojo went on a frenzy looking for his covers, but failed so he tucked his knees upwards into his chest to keep the warmth.

Erik scoffed. "You look like me, but you act like your mama." He grabbed his ankles and pulled him to the foot of the bed, "Don't make me drop you."

There was a slight grin on Jojo's face, like he wanted Erik to do it. Instead, Erik pulled him off the bed, holding both of Jojo's feet with one hand. Jojo finally busted out laughing and Erik set him back on the floor gently.

"Again!" The five-year-old exclaimed. His bedhead became even more messy from playing. You were planning on getting their hairs cut eventually, but they wanted to copy their father. You kept Nasir's hair in a little puff and Jojo's in mini twists. Ameena rocked her little curly afro.

"Nah, we're on a tight schedule."

Jojo huffed, but followed Erik out of the bedroom into the bathroom. You were able to give them baths individually, but he was running out of time.

"Do you have to pee?" He asked his son.

"Nope!"

Erik felt relieved.

Ameena was sleeping again so he picked up her bottle and placed it on the dresser. He allowed her to sleep while the two boys took their bath.

"Can we get bubbles, Daddy?" Nasir asked, filling up his rubber duck with water.

"Not right now."

"Yeah! Bubbles!" Jojo chimed in, splashing the water with his hands.

"When can we get bubbles?" Nasir continued to ask.

The two of them continued to yell and cheer for bubbles while splashing the water.

"Later, tonight. Right now y'all just need to-" Erik's eyes widened as he watched the water surrounding Jojo change colour. "Jojo! I thought you ain't have to pee, bruh!"

He only giggled, "Oops!"

"Eeewww!" Nasir screamed, jumping up and splashing the water everywhere.

"Nasir, stop, man! Stop!" Erik scolded and tried to shield himself from the contaminated water.

Then Ameena's cries began.

For fucks sake....

"That took longer than it needed to cuz y'all nasty." Erik shook his head at his sons, Ameena calmed down and was playing with the chain around his neck.

The two boys laughed.

"Y'all think I'm playing." He used a stern voice. The kids were use to Erik being the fun and playful Dad so they weren't taking him seriously. "I'm being so serious right now."

"Where's mommy?" Jojo finally questioned.

"She ain't here right now."

"Mama?" Ameena added. Erik looked at her stunned.

"Yo, did you just talk?" He raised an eyebrow at his daughter.

"Yeah, she said 'mama'." Nasir copied her.

"How you gone say that when she ain't here, but you won't say dada or baba?" He sighed. Of course he was happy that she was grasping words, finally, but he would've preferred it to be dada or baba. He wouldn't tell you that her first word was mama, you never heard her talk yet and he knew you would hold it over his head.

Erik sighed and looked at the more pressing matter in front of him. By the grace of Bast, Erik had the two boys lotioned up and now he had to get their clothes on and their hairs to look decent. He'd always seen you chase one or both of them around the house with their clothes in hand as they ran stark naked or in their underwear. If they were close enough, Erik would catch them, if not, it was all up to you.

"Now I'm not in a playing mood, so don't even try to run." He was using his military voice on them, hoping that would sway them into seeing how serious he was.

Too bad that only lasted for a moment. Once Nasir had his shirt on, he dashed out the room.

"Nasir!" Erik yelled.

"Wait for me!" Jojo followed along, racing out the room in only his briefs.

"Gah lee, bruh!" He huffed. Ameena was laughing at her brothers and her father, showing off two top and two bottom teeth that were just growing in. "You think this is funny too, princess."

He stepped outside the room and waited for them to run towards his direction. Nasir was first to round the corner and Erik grabbed him right away. He kicked, screamed and laughed as he tried to break free from his father's grasp. Next was Jojo, who's footsteps grew louder as he got closer. Before he could make it fully around the wall, Jojo tripped and bumped his head into the leg of the end table that held family portraits and a small vase Erik brought from Cape Town that all went crashing to the ground.

"Ooh, shit." Erik winced, listening to his son do that windup cry that all little kids do. He set Nasir down, "See, this is what happens when y'all don't listen."

He picked Jojo up with his now free arm, bringing him back to the bedroom.

"You're alright, man."

Jojo snuggled into his father's neck, his tears and snot staining Erik's shirt. Ameena reached out to her little brother and made sad babbling noises like she was trying to comfort him.

"Look, Meena's checking if you're good." He smiled and sat down on the bed.

"Are you okay, Jojo?" Nasir's voice was really quiet as he looked at his weeping older brother, who only shook his head.

"If we finish getting ready, I can get you some ice." Erik noticed a hematoma forming on Jojo's forehead. She's gonna kill me...

The boys settled down and allowed Erik to finish getting them dressed and he fixed their bedheads, then they went downstairs. You prepared a simple breakfast for them, as if you knew Erik would run out of time. In fact he did, it was already time to leave. He quickly got an ice pack out of the freezer and handed it to Jojo, and got all of their shoes and jackets on.

"We ready?" He asked them and they nodded, Ameena babbled in her baby language.

"Never again." Erik just got back from dropping the kids off and plopped down, face first on the sofa.

You appeared from the kitchen, holding his favourite beer. "Not as easy as it looks, huh?" You smirked.

"Them boys is too much." He sat up and took the beer from your hand.

"Trust me, I know." You plopped down beside him, snuggling into his side. "You did this to us, just know."

He took a swig of beer, "What? How is this my fault, babe?"

"Last time I checked, you were the only who bragged about your pullout game being strong." You said with an eye roll.

"It is strong, otherwise I'd have more lil' niggas running around. Not just by you."

You punched him in the chest, "Fuck you, bruh."

"Aye, I'm just saying."

You knew he was telling the truth. Erik was the definition of a whore until he met you.

"So you really just out here getting me pregnant?"

"And I'm tempted to do it again." He set his drink down and pulled you underneath him. "How long before we gotta pick 'em up?" He rhetorically asked in a lustful tone.

"No, we ain't doing this!" You laugh, placing your foot against his chest. "You don't learn do you?"

"We make mistakes all the time." He shrugged with a smirk.

"Boy, whatever." You smiled at Erik.

(Start/Finish: April 12, 2019)

#killmonger x reader #killmonger fic #black reader

184 notes · View notes