#erik stevens x black ofc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thehomierobbstark · 6 years

Text

Teach Me Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader [#TeamErikDon’tDateWhiteChicks]

A/N: Strap in, because this chapter is about to be long. Almost 4.5k long. Continues on from last chapter about meeting Erik. Also…. I don’t wanna give nothing away but… I think yall gone be happy with the way this chapter ends… ;-)

Sorry for all the weird breaks, I tried not to get too wordy with the parts that didn’t matter too much.

Warnings: Cursing ofc, more sass, probably more bad humor. Fluff?

I forgot to include pictures last time for the folks like me who enjoy visuals. So peep the links!

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!! x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ya outfit.

With Mr. Stevens trailing behind you, you headed back down to the first floor to print out another copy of the report to take with you out to lunch. You made him wait by the front desk while you dashed back to your office, hoping Christianna hadn’t been out looking for you since you’d been gone longer than you expected. Seeing her face as you walked to your office, though, you realized there was no such luck on that front.

“Girl who is that FOINE ass man you got out there waiting on you?!” Christianna said, arms crossed and face curious as she leaned out your office to look at him. There was absolutely no shame in her game as she observed him from the doorway, taking note of his height and muscular physique. You were thankful the office was mostly cleared out for lunch, and luckily for you, the man in question had been too interested in his phone to notice your friend oogling him.

“If you don’t get your nosy ass back in here!” you harshly whisper, snatching her arm up to pull her back inside and closing the door behind you. You spoke again, this time trying to keep the slight hysteria out of your voice so as not to give you away.

“He’s here to go over the budget, so we’re headed to lunch.” You primly state, turning towards your desk to get started on printing the file. You didn’t want her jumping to conclusions, but more importantly, you didn’t want her harassing you and distracting you from keeping a clear and level mind. You were already anxious enough, and you really didn’t need her adding to it.

Unfortunately for you, she didn’t give a damn about your anxiety.

“Oh uh uh, you bout to tell me all about this nigga. I wanna know names, ages, and,” she stopped, taking a second to peer through the blinds of the window, “where he works out, cuz I need to find me a nigga like him, gahDAMN.”

“Really!?” you suck your teeth, walking over to pull her from the window, the blinds snapping as her fingers detach. You really wanted to laugh at your friends extra ass antics, but you also didn’t want to encourage her to carry on her line of questioning.

You type in a few key strokes on the computer and hear the printer start whirring, hopping up from your desk to head to the corner with the printer.

“Bitch, I know you hear me,” Christianna says, leaning back on her own desk and watching you, crossing her arms again. “Is this a date? How’d y’all meet?”

You were SO grateful that your office had a door attached to it, because otherwise, with the way you both talked to each other, there was no way you wouldn’t have already gotten reprimanded and/or fired.

“Its not a date, alright? He’s partnering with the museum with the Wakandan Outreach Program and Dr. Butler had an emergency, so she asked me to help. Ok?” You hoped that was enough information to keep her satisfied for the moment. You knew she’d have a barrage of questions once you got back, and you needed a full stomach and at least one drink to prepare for that.

“He’s from Wakanda?! Ooo girl.” You glance up interestedly at her as you stack the completed report in your hands, grabbing a manila folder. “I bet he’s one of them mountaintop niggas. You know, I heard they got some of the biggest di-“

“GOODBYE CHRISTIANNA” you say, tuning her out. You grab your purse and coat from the back of the door and fling it open, heading back out to the front desk.

“Wait!” she called after you.

“So should I tell Chad you’re taken?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Mr. Stevens volunteered to drive you both to lunch, suggesting you go to The Capital Grille, a place he’d found while you were busy in your office. You agreed, texting the information on to Christianna while you walked out to the parking lot. It was a beautiful day in D.C., and the bright sun gave a warm contrast to the cold air around you as you walked across the pavement. You heard the chirping of a car alarm and you looked up from your phone, trying to guess which one belonged to him.

“I’m right here,” he says, pointing to a black 2018 Cadillac Escalade parked near the front. Somehow, while it wasn’t exactly what you expected, it also didn’t seem entirely out of his character, what little bit of it you knew. Still, you chuckled as a weird sort of familiarity ran through you.

“Somethin funny over there?” He asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Nah,” you answer, trying to loosen up a bit. “Just thought I remembered something.” you say, smiling a little to yourself.

You hop in the front seat, closing the door and turning to buckle up. As Mr. Stevens leaned down to start the car, you thought you could see him from the corner of your eye, smile a little, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive to the restaurant was short and a little awkward, but the music from the radio helped to fill the silence. You tried not to panic fidget and instead opted to look out the widow, watching downtown D.C. whiz past you. Once you got to the restaurant, he pulled into the parking lot, driving up to the valet station. Putting the car in park, he hopped out, as did you, thanking the valet as he held the door open and helped you out. You thought it was a little extra that he was valeting the car for a simple business meeting, but you decided not to question it.

You started walking up the steps into the restaurant, so you didn’t see it when Mr. Stevens leaned down and whispered something into the valets ear while he handed him the keys, and slipped what looked like a few bills into his other hand. When you glanced back, you did, however, see the valet give a huge grin while he looked between the two of you, then excitedly walk to the other side of the car, getting into the front seat.

You give Mr. Stevens a measured look as he makes his way up the stairs towards you. “Should I be concerned?” you say, cocking an eyebrow at him. You made a mental note to download the Uber app when you went to the bathroom, just in case you got any weird vibes during lunch.

“Nah, we good. C’mon, lets go inside.” He let his hand hover above the small of your back while he gestured toward the door with his head. You look at him for a few more seconds before turning to go inside. He opens the door from behind you and you walk in, going up to the hostess’ booth and greeting her.

“Hi, can we get a table-“

“We have a reservation for two. Under Stevens?” he interrupts you, his big frame gently pushing you aside to stand in front of her. Your patience starts to grow a little thin, but then he lowers his voice as he leans forward and says, “..and do you have those accommodations I requested?”

His eyes have a look of slight hopefulness in them, and you can’t help but be incredibly curious at this point. You can tell he’s trying hard not to give in to his facial expression, but he almost looks like a little boy with the way his big brown eyes look so innocent in the moment. Again, a weird feeling of familiarity runs through you as you look up at his face. You can’t exactly place it, but you almost feel as if you’d seen that look before somewhere…

“Absolutely Mr. Stevens. Right this way.” she answers smiling. She steps from behind the podium and begins leading you both to your table. You don’t really know what to feel in the moment, but you heart does weird leaps of joy as if you’re excited.

Your table is located all the way in the back of the restaurant, away from the rest of the patrons, and through a pair of double doors that open up to what appears to be a private dining room. The room is pretty big with dark wooden panels that cover the walls, with paintings on each of them. Two pendant bowl chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the yellow light giving the room a warm and cozy feeling. A box window opposite the door gives the room a beautiful second story view of the city. The room looks big enough to fit at least ten guests, but theres only one cloth covered table in the center. As you get closer you see that on both sides of the table there’s already a drink, with what looks like a blue colored frothy soda with whipped cream on top and two cherries.

You look at the drink oddly before realization starts to hit you. Holy shit.

The hostess pulls your chair out for you before handing you a menu. “Enjoy your lunch, Miss Bubbles.”

Holy fuck.

Your jaw drops as your eyes go wide, and for a moment you’re just speechless. You watch the hostess as she leaves the room, then turn to look at the drink in front of you. Finally, you look up to Mr. Stevens across from you, and see him smiling uncontrollably as he watches you, pulling his hand up to cover his mouth as he starts laughing.

“Oh my god. Huey?!!!” you scream, hands flying up to your mouth. You push yourself out of your chair and run over to Erik, slamming into him while flinging your arms around his neck and hugging him hard, almost causing his chair to tip back. He catches the both of you, bringing the front legs of the chair back to ground, as he wraps his arms around you and just holds you, both of you laughing together.

“Finally nigga!” he says into your ear, smiling hard.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me nigga!?” You yell at him, breaking away for a moment to punch his arm before burying your face back into his neck.

It all made sense now. His weird personal space issues, why he kept giving you those goofy ass smirks, his joking about you being short. It was Erik fucking Stevens! Way back from elementary school in Oakland. Ya’ll would barely ever use your real names when you were around each other back then, instead using nicknames based on tv shows you’d both watch together after school. Thats why you hadn’t realized who he was until just this moment.

Yours had been based off of the kids show Power Puff Girls, which had been one of your all time favorites. When it came to dealing with the boys on the block, you were Buttercup to a T. Always full of mean ass comebacks and overt aggression, you learned early on that you had to hold your own when it came to dealing with the guys, especially because you were one of the only girls on the block. You didn’t miss out on any fun activity that was going on in the summer just because you were a girl, and you made sure all the boys knew that too. Basketball on the courts at two? You were there. Video games and Street Fighter at one of your friends houses? You were there. Even during school, you made your presence known during any and all “boys” sports activities, like kickball and touch football, because you’d be damned if you were going to be excluded. Almost no boy would dare to mess with you, except Erik.

After his dad died when you both were around nine, your parents offered to lend a helping hand in making sure he was taken care of since he was new to the neighborhood, having been left in the care of an elderly aunt that lived in your building. You both had grown incredibly close during those years, given that Erik was constantly over your house studying after school or playing video games. Because of this, he was one of the only friends who could see right through your tough girl facade to the mild, even tempered good girl that you really were. When it came to your teachers and parents, you had an almost angelic like behavior. Even at your young age, you knew that there was a time and place for acting out, and the house and classroom were not one of them. You were raised better than that. He’d caught on to the game that you were playing, though, and once he did, he never let you live it down. Thus, the nickname Bubbles was born.

His nickname was Huey, based off of the intellectual and wise beyond his years character from

The Boondocks. Ya’ll were far too young to be watching the show when you were younger, but that didn’t stop you from sneaking in an episode or two at your house when your parents shifts would run late. You were mostly relegated to the comic strip section though, which both of you would enjoy together on your walks to school in the morning. Erik was one of those boys that knew his history and culture, and would waste no time in letting you know it either. Whether he was correcting teachers in class about the real history behind the Native American genocide, or speaking on the horrors of the Atlantic Slave trade with his friends, more than one phone call had been made home on behalf of Erik and how he’d interrupted class yet again to educate the masses.

After his aunt had died when you were thirteen, Erik had moved away to another country to live with an uncle and cousin. You’d lost contact with each other after that point, and even though you’d tried looking him up on Facebook a few years after, you were never able to find him. Other than the occasional inquiry from your parents, you hadn’t thought about him in years, and you’d chalked him up to just another fun childhood memory you’d revisit every now and then.

But now, not only was he back, but he was here. In the flesh.

You pulled back again to look Erik in the face, trying to find some semblance of the little boy you’d known back then. Trying to figure out how you didn’t realize that it was him sooner. But all you could see were his eyes. His big, beautiful brown eyes. And just like that, it all came rushing back to you.

You were so caught up in slowly piecing his features back together that you didn’t realize you were basically sitting in Erik’s lap at this point.

Erik realized it, though, and his eyes flicked down to his arms wrapped around your waist and back up to you before he began to tease you.

“You gon eat lunch in my lap, or you want your own chair?” he asks, face splitting into a wide grin.

That was one thing about Erik you’d never forget. He could always find a way to get you flustered with his damn charm.

“Oh, shit, my bad!” you gasp, hopping up so quick you almost lose your balance. You can feel the heat start to spread across your face but try to ignore it while you fix your dress.

“Its alright ma, I could be ya chair if you wanted. Truss me, I do not mind.” He sits back in his chair and proceeds to give you a long look from head to toe, biting his lip. You almost can’t believe how bold this nigga is being right in front of you, especially after all these years, but then you remember the way you looked at him when you first saw him in the Rotunda that morning.

You put your hands on your hips and cock your neck. “Is this payback for earlier?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

“There’s that attitude I remember.” he says, smirking at you. “And ion know. Maybe.” He shrugs, raising an eyebrow back at you.

You open your mouth to say something, then close it, making a choice not to read too much into that statement. Instead you give a little grunt and pop him on the shoulder, turning to make your way back to your own seat, and hear him chuckling behind you. You pull out your chair and point at the drink on the table, plopping down in the seat.

“Big Blue float?” you ask.

“You already know,” he says softly, a slow smile forming across his lips.

“I haven’t had one of these in years, oh my god.” You smile, stirring it with your straw. You lean forward and take a sip, and the delicious carbonated vanilla and syrup flavor floods your mouth. You close your eyes, and you can almost see the summers you spent hanging out on your balcony with Erik sipping the drink, watching the neighborhood kids play ball down below while you listened to the radio.

You break from your trip down memory lane and look up to see Erik doing the same, smiling and staring at his drink, eyes distant, and you wonder if he’s remembering the same thing.

“How did you know it was me?” you ask him, brows furrowing in confusion and curiosity. Theres no way he immediately could have known who you were, especially since he didn’t even learn your name until after speaking with Dr. Butler. Plus, if time had treated you the same way it had Erik, and you were really hoping it did judging how he looked, you probably looked almost nothing like you did when you were a kid.

Well, at least you hoped you didn’t. It was a long shot wishing for that last part though, because you’d been mistaken for a high schooler more than once during your first month at the museum. It had become such a hassle being mistaken for an intern by security that you began incorporating eyeliner and mascara into your daily routine just to look a little older.

“You must’ve forgot how well I know you, girl. You the only one I know that be lookin at other people live their lives and have the biggest fuckin smile like you livin it with them.”

Your people watching. So he did immediately know who you were. That was the one thing you loved doing most on that balcony during those summers, and Erik had commented more than once how weirdly happy you always looked while you were watching the neighborhood.

You smile wide at the memory, nervously biting your thumb as you look at him.

He grins back. “Yeah, that one. Right there. I couldn’t forget that smile, even if I tried.”

You drop your smile and roll your eyes, kissing your teeth at him.

“Shut yo ass up.” you mumble.

You’d be lying if you said that wasn’t some cute ass shit he just spit, but you didn’t want it getting to his head, even if it did have you feeling some type of way.

“Don’t be rollin ya eyes at me. And who you think you cursin at?” He questions, eyeing you playfully from across the table.

“Yeah, whateva. Corny ass nigga…” you laugh, picking up your menu to shield you from his stare.

You hear him push back his chair and make a move to get up, but the waiter walks into the room, stopping him. You almost thank the waiter for their timing, because you really didn’t feel like roughhousing with Erik in this restaurant in your heels.

“Aiight, keep playin wit me Bubbles. You gon see.” You giggle as you peer over the menu to look at him.

~~~~~

It was amazing how quickly the both of you fell right back into the motions of your old friendship, as if almost no time had passed at all. Lunch flew by as you caught each other up on what happened in each others lives over the years, and how you’d both ended up in D.C.

Turned out that the uncle and cousin Erik had moved out of the country to live with were royalty. The King and Prince of Wakanda, to be exact, which made him a Prince himself. He’d come back to the states for college after he turned 18, graduating two years early and going straight to MIT for Grad School, which he also graduated early. He returned to Wakanda to work in the Science and Technology field with his younger cousin, helping her to create Wakandan Outreach programs all across the U.S. since revealing their technology to the rest of the world. So, deciding he needed a change of scenery and to get away from his “annoying ass know it all cousins” (his words), he packed up and moved back to the states, starting his work with the Capitol.

You balked at his accomplishments, almost feeling bad that it had taken you four years just to complete your undergrad. And that was something you were really proud of. But more than anything, you were floored that he was actually Wakandan royalty, and related to King T’Challa, the Black Panther himself.

You were so engrossed with the details of his story, that you completely forgot all about the budget meeting the lunch was intended for until you got back to the museum parking lot two hours later, the manila folder still in your purse, untouched.

“Ah shit, we forgot about the budget!” you exclaim, giving yourself a face palm before blowing a raspberry. You had quite a tendency for being forgetful that day, and you didn’t want to get on Dr. Butlers bad side as a result of it. You were doing well in your new job, but you still felt that you had so much left to prove.

“Forget allat. I can go over it myself before the next meeting.” he says, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. You almost give him an incredulous look before you remember. Oh yeah. MIT. He can figure it out.

“I wanna show you something tho, close ya eyes.” His smile turns goofy and childlike again, and you give him a wary look before doing what your told.

You hear him reach in the back seat and hear the rustling of a plastic bag.

“Ok now hold out ya hand.” You do, and he plops something into it, the weight of it a little heavier than what you expected. You feel it between your hands first, and you can feel through the bag that whatever it is, its a bunch of small, squishy pieces, but it also feels a little gritty. You start to get grossed out, but when you open your eyes and look down, you laugh at what you see.

“How the fuck you find this!?” You ask, and you’re both laughing now. In your hand is a small ziploc bag filled with koolaid gummy bears, the dyed sugar covering the tops, giving it an encrusted look. You hadn’t had koolaid gummy bears in YEARS, and your shocked he managed to find some given neither of you were in school anymore.

“Apparently they sell them at corner stores now. I asked the valet kid if he could score us some.” he tells you.

“Oh, so thats what ya’ll were whispering about. Thought ya’ll was planning on kidnapping my ass.” You laugh, giving an overly relieved look.

“Never know. I still might.” he says tilting his head at you, the playfulness back in his eyes.

You give him a look before scoffing and rolling your eyes, but before you can turn to open your door he grabs your face in his hand and brings you close to him, so close your foreheads are almost touching. You brace one hand against his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt.

“I told you to stop rollin ya eyes at me.” his voice is low, almost a whisper, and he’s looking you right in the eyes. Something in the bottom of your stomach turns, making you squirm in response. You glance down nervously, but bring your eyes right back up when you look at his full lips.

You get a little bold. “No.” you say, raising a brow and putting a little bit of force behind your words. You can hear your blood pumping in your ears as your breath gets shallower.

“Always so fuckin stubborn.” He smirks at you, swiping a slow finger across your lips.

Before you can process whats happening, he kisses you, soft and slow, and you swear time slows down for a second. He starts giving you soft licks, and you moan a little into his mouth, your other hand dropping the ziploc bag and wrapping around his neck. He pulls away after a moment and nips at your bottom lip, looking into your eyes.

“Been wanting to do that since I was thirteen,” he tells you, breath a little ragged.

You smile and look down, closing your eyes while you shake your head. You’d wanted the same exact thing, but you really didn’t need this kind of distraction. Not with half a work day still ahead of you.

“I um, I think I should go now.” You say, looking back up and chuckling at him so he didn’t feel like you were just blowing him off. “If I don’t go now, I don’t know if I ever will.”

“I’m alright with that.” He says, gently stroking your jaw with this thumb.

“Yeah, but,” you pull away, “my rent isn’t.” he laughs, and you begin collecting your things before popping open the door.

You hand him the folder, and give him a quick peck on the cheek before turning to get out.

“You gone call me when you get home, Bubbles?” he asks you, leaning over and cheesing at you.

“No,” you say, and before he can say anything you close the door and head into the museum, a huge goofy ass smile spreading across your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fun Fact: I had a bet with this boy in 3rd grade that when I grew up I’d own a Cadillac Escalade. Y’all can incorporate that in this story if you want lol.

As for the bet....lets just say I owe that nigga $100 😂😂😂

#also i dont know if any of you really give a fuck but the picture of the koolaid gummy bears is actually chamoy #i couldnt find an actual pic but thats what they look like lmao #yall like the picture of huey i put in there lmao #lil nigga a real one #my tag list gone be in the replies part btw I AINT FORGOT #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x black!reader #black panther fics #erik killmonger fics #bp #TheHomieFics

244 notes · View notes