A/N: NO. I’m not romanticizing toxic relationships. Don’t come at me with the BS. Happy reading 💕
You were pissed. Erik had been out all night with his friends and ignored all of your calls. You seen he was active on snap though because you got notifications when he would post. The cherry on top was you seeing your man with his hands around another’s girls waist. This nigga had the audacity to ignore you, his woman, his baby, his little princess, and get caught up with a female. You took a screenshot the video and you knew he knew. He tried calling you almost immediately but you blocked his number. To be extra petty, you decided to take his favorite pairs of Kappa sweatpants and cut holes in them bitches. Then you drew CHEATER on the bathroom mirror in red lipstick. Maybe you were overreacting but if the roles were reversed, he’d be pissed too.
You sat in the middle of his California king bed and waited for cheatin’ ass Erik to show up. Any minute now.
“BABY!” This nigga damn near busted the front door down screaming out for you.
“I’m in here” you say rather calmly.
“Y/N—“ he looked on the floor seeing his precious sweats cut up.
“Yo what the fuck is this shit!? Baby, why would you cut up my shit!? These bitches cost me over $100 a pair! You think I’m made of money? What the fuck!” He picked the sweats up and shook his head in disappointment.
“They’re clothes Erik. They can be replaced. But you know what can’t be replaced? ME, nigga! You lying, cheating, bastard!” You scream at him.
“Why are you trippin’!? The fuck I do to you!?”
“Oh so you dumb now? I seen you and another bitch! You fuck her?” You pull your phone out and show him the screenshot and video.
“Y/N, will you calm the fuck down and let me explain—“ he reached out to grab you but you pushed him away.
“NO! I’m done with you. I told you if you ever cheated on me, we’re done. I’m done. Go be a hoe” you pocket your phone and grab your duffel bag and keys to leave but Erik blocks you.
“Where are you going? You not leaving Y/N. You didn’t even let me fuckin’ explain! I’m trying to tell you that it’s a misunderstanding—“
“Erik, get the fuck outta my way before I call my brother” you threaten. Erik and your brother didn’t get along for many reasons.
Erik stepped aside with his hands up to surrender.
“So this is it? You just gonna leave me without knowing the full story?”
“Yes. I am. Fuck you” you throw his key at him and leave.
You were in bed snuggled in your blankets watching PowerPuff Girls when your phone started vibrating like crazy. You picked it up from beside you and seen it was Erik. You scoff and roll your eyes. You forgot to block his second phone he carried. Also suspicious.
Erik: Babygirl I’m sorry. I swear I’m not cheating on you.
Erik: Please answer my calls and texts. I miss you.
Erik: Y/N. You know I love you. I would never hurt you. You’re my baby. My lil princess.
Erik: You know you can’t sleep without being in my arms.
Part of you felt bad for ignoring Erik. He may have a tough exterior but he was putty when it came to you. He loved you so much. He never did hurt you and he spoiled you like crazy. He even gave you a promise ring. He said he was committing himself to you…BUT the other part of you wanted to teach him a lesson. He knew better than to touch on other women but he did it anyways. You knew he wasn’t cheating (or so you hoped) and you would eventually answer him.
Erik: If you don’t answer me, I’m coming over. Pick up the fucking phone!
You: I’m fine Erik. Let me have some alone time. Please.
Erik: Aight. I’ll let you cool off. I do love you babygirl. Remember that. And don’t think you leaving me. Oml we meant for each other. I ain’t give you that ring for no fucking reason.
You: You funny. If I want to leave, I’ll leave.
Erik: You got me all the way fucked up if you think you leaving. Yo pretty ass ain’t going no where
You: Okay, daddy 🙄
Erik: That’s right. I’m daddy. Remember that shit.
You: I miss you 🥺
Erik: I miss my Kappa sweats
You: Asshole. You did it to yourself
Erik: Thanks for that message in my bathroom. Appreciate it
You: Sowwy 🥺
Erik: Spoiled ass. I’ll be over in a minute. That pussy better be wet.
“You done being mad at a nigga?” Erik asked as he walked inside your apartment.
“Yes. I’m sorry I overreacted” you walk closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you”
“I love you too. I was trying to tell you that I was passing by her and yes I touched her hip. I apologize. I don’t know her and no, I’m not fucking no other bitches. I’m with you, and I love you. So please stop actin’ batshit crazy and you owe me some new sweats”
“It’s okay Erik. You’re so damn good looking, I get jealous sometimes. But I believe you…I got eyes everywhere” you laugh.
“Y/N I know you don’t got yo friends following me” Erik grabbed your shoulders and looked at you.
“Maybe” you squint your eyes.
“See. And this is why we good together” Erik kissed your forehead and carried you to your bedroom.
“We had a visitor, it seems,” Erik muttered returning to Ivy’s side in a smooth unhurried stroll. He was home free at least until the next threat, which he figured.. would be a while. He had days before he needed to worry about it. With a spray bottle of water and a black towel in hand, he looked on the young and delightful Ms. Stevens strapped by red rope to his french chaise. She had gotten a bit of blood on it, but it was a nice contrast. A nice picture in totality. He covered the ornate work on her thigh with the black towel and pressed down, holding her thigh firmly to stop the bleeding.
“That officer,” he sighed. “The one you called?” Her eyes brightened briefly with recognition. “Yeah, her. She’s a idiot.”
The roll of her eyes showed that she agreed and Erik smirked.
“Can you believe… the bitch came here to investigate me, yet she actually drank what the fuck I gave her?”
He had to laugh at that. Ivy didn’t laugh, but she had to have found it as funny as he did. The whole thing was ridiculous. The police come just to end up captive by the nigga they came to question.
“You can’t write shit like this,” he laughed, his weight still on her thigh.
“Tell me, who does that shit? Oh yeah.. You.”
Her eyes stared ahead. Though verbally she was unresponsive, her body could not block its reactions and neither could her face. He put a little more pressure on the towel not missing her expression as she tried her best to control it. Pain was what she felt.
“Hold on Little Ivy,” he smiled. “Almost done.”
After putting pressure on her thigh for a few minutes, he lifted the towel. “Typically, I’d suggest stitches for cuts like these but nah.. these are too pretty. Let’s let it air out a minute,” he said walking slowly to take a seat on a couch facing her.
She didn’t look well. Her face, it looked tired as though she were exhausted, dehydrated, low in energy. He decided to let her rest a few minutes more, saying nothing as she stared at him. He simply stared back as he sat on the couch.
Her eyes began to droop as he stared, wide awake. After another minute, her eyes shut and held. He counted one, two, three, four.. before her green and red eyes popped open again focusing warily on his. They struggled to stay, even crossing, and he sighed, not getting enjoyment from it at all.
“Close your eyes, Ivy,” he commanded standing to his feet. She needed a few hours of rest at the least. He much preferred her to be awake and aware for their games. In the meantime, he could be starting on another set of custom grillz.
Heading out of his living room, he shit the soundproof door leaving her in there. Should she call, he had the monitor on where he could see and hear her. Until then, he had another creative hobby to attend to.
“Oh.. Look whose finally coming to,” a thick Carribean accent came through the haze as Trinity’s head pounded and pulsed.
“Where the hell am I,” she blinked noticing that she was on the floor on her back looking up at a ceiling. She wanted to panic, but training had taught her to remain calm in uncertainty. Turning her head, the ache was like a mallet pounding ice, but the ice was her head. There was an older woman sitting proudly on a couch with a glass in hand, legs crossed and staring in disapproval.
“Funny how the tables turn,” she glared taking a sip before waving her hands in anger. “If you’d just done your job to start with wouldn’t NONE of us be in this mess! You put my daughter at risk,” she pointed. “And now Lord knows what’s happened to her.” Her face turned glum as she rolled her eyes looking away.
Trinity rolled herself onto her side gingerly and hoisted her body, resting on her arms. Finally upright, she was able to right herself completely and stand, wavering on her feet. She sighed before addressing the angry older woman. “Mrs. Stevens..,” she recalled feeling the back of her head. She checked her hand. No blood. The woman’s green eyes were memorable. The family resemblance was strong.
“You shoulda died right on that floor.”
“The way I feel, Ms. Stevens, I might have,” Trinity retorted. She felt horrible like she’d been hit by a bus. Groaning, she held the sides of her head tightly. “I always knew liquor would be the death of me..”
“You’re a damn addict.”
“No, Mrs. Stevens, I’m an alcoholic. My job is very stressful… As you can see,” she gestured to the room they were enclosed in. Though clean and stocked, it was indeed a prison.
“No, officer. You’re a glorified idiot with a badge is what you are and your damned reckless stupidity is gonna get us all killed.”
Trinity glared. The woman didn’t seem so Christian with all the venom she was spewing, but Trinity could understand. She was angry for good reason. That’s as far as Trinity planned to go down that train of thought.
“Attacking me isn’t gonna solve the issue. We need to find a way out of here.” Checking her sides and pockets, she patted her body down for some sort of communication. Some item. Anything that could be useful. She came up empty-handed, sighing as she looked at the unimpressed Mrs. Stevens, who did nothing but take another sip of whatever liquid was in her cup.
“You think I didn’t try that already,” Mrs. Stevens scoffed. “Gal, I searched your tall behind hours ago. That lil nappy headed boy done took everything ya got.”
“What can you tell me about what you’ve experienced with him? Any weaknesses? Accomplices? How often does he come back here? How long have you been here?”
“If you think.. I’m counting on you for anything.. you are out of your wretched mind.”
Trinity looked at Mrs. Stevens face that was set in stone. She was on her own in figuring a way out. She needed a way to make it to her vehicle.
“Look,” Trinity’s chin dropped. She was serious, catching Mrs. Stevens eyes to make sure she understood. “When he comes in here, I need to get out of here and get to my cruiser. If I can do that, I can call backup and then we can save your daughter.”
“Now why wouldn’t you call backup when investigating an abduction and claims of attempted murder from the start? Hm? Ask yourself that, Ms. Hot in the Pants? What type of police work is that?” She kissed her teeth. “Oh, what, you thought you’d somehow dazzle him with your rugged looks? Turn him somewhat-normal? The foolishness in this girl, Lord,” she whispered, eyes shut.
Trinity looked down briefly out of respect.
“Yeah. I could’ve brought backup initially..” She made eye contact again. “But-”
“There is no but. You should’ve brought backup! You were cocky and thought you had it. Ain’t no further explaining need to be done. Now I’m sick of hearing from you. If I see an opportunity, I’m taking it.”
“Ain’t no opportunity,” Erik announced through the speaker he’d installed in the room. The both of them jumped looking about the room. Meanwhile, he shook his head. They didn’t understand their predicament but they’d be well cared for. As long as they didn’t fuck up. Particularly, Mrs. Stevens. She had produced a fine specimen afterall. The officer, he had to think about.
Warnings: Profanity, Use of the N word, Mentions of violence
Word Count: ~2.3k
Summary: Erik is talking a tough game while playing Call of Duty with your young nephew. You don’t like it and decide to pay him a visit. (Based on MBJ’s reputation of being a shit talker on video game servers.)
My legs cross as my straightened back allows my breaths to flow through my lungs with ease. Deep inhales through my nose are followed by whistling exhales through the small heart shaped hole in the center of my puckered lips. Redundancy is my best friend as I continue to deep dive into my mind, swimming in the direction of inner peace.
“Zia! They cursing on the game!”
Inner peace my black ass.
These legs of mine uncross themselves as my back slouches. I knew I wouldn’t get shit done with these two here but I tried to get my yoga in anyway. “What’s wrong?” I open my eyes to see my six-year-old nephew standing in front of my face. His twin sister sits on the couch behind him with her face nearly pressed against the iPad she brought with her. She hadn’t bothered me once this morning and that was when I knew it was only the boys.
Isaiah’s small stubby fingers are wrapped around the playstation controller. It was one of two that belongs to my boyfriend’s Sony gaming console. “I was playing the game and they start cursing.” His syllables bled together when he spoke the letter ‘R’. It was progress. His speech coach has been putting in overtime to help my baby beat out that inner Elmer Fud.
“Who cursing?” My brows twist at the idea of someone yelling at a six-year-old on Call Of Duty. I know it gets rough and I know Isaiah does not play like he is six but if you can’t tell the mic is muted for a reason, you’re a weirdo. “It’s the same one?”
“Yes,” Isaiah nods. “I- I turned the mic on because—“
I point at my nephew with my pupils. He knows what this look means. “You turned on the microphone after I told you not to because why, Isaiah?”
“I was telling him to be nice! I’m just a kid,” he says, repeating what I told my boyfriend last night.
My sister’s a dental hygienist and the office is always crazy after halloween. Today she found out her babysitter had the flu and she had no one else to watch the kids besides myself. The moment she found out she would be needed at the office earlier than usual today, we agreed the kids should come the night before.
It was last night that my nephew discovered Call of Duty. My boyfriend, Travis, had been playing all day in the living room with it being his day off. The breaks he took between matches were short and only for food or sex. Travis isn’t around any kids except my niece and nephew. He had no idea a six-year-old should not be playing a shooting game. I was baking cupcakes with my niece, Ayanna, and did not realize what Travis introduced him to until after I walked into the room to hand Isaiah the spoon he wanted to lick. By that time, the damage was done. So when Travis said, ‘he can play whatever, whenever he wants’ while referring to Isaiah and his gaming system as he got ready for work this morning, I had no problem letting him play while I did my afternoon yoga.
I just forgot a minor but major detail. I disconnected the microphone to keep Issuah from talking to strangers but that did not keep the strangers from talking to him. Playing under Travis’ gamertag makes it look like it is Travis. Now, I have to curse out a chat room full of grown men for yelling at my nephew.
“Let me see.” I take the headset from my nephew. He climbs onto Me and Travis’ bed as he watches me connect to equipment. “Hello?” My attitude is apparent in my tone.
A clear voice replies through the noise heard on the other end. “You done went and got your girl to talk shit for you, bruh? Man, you a whole bitch, my nigga! Matter a’ fact, you probably don’t even got no bitches, this probably ya’ auntie or somethin’! How you doin’, mama?”
My eyes roll at the fluent shit talking. It was like he had no control on this case of diarrhea. The switch from shit talking to a seductive, yet satire, tone was the last straw for me. “This is nobody’s mother, okay? My six-year-old nephew is playing under my boyfriend’s tag and you need to watch how you’re talking on here…” I squint. “King Kill M-X-Onger,” I say in disgust. “It’s just a game. You need to relax.”
“It wasn’t just a game when I was beating your nigga’s ass all day yesterday and through the night. I don’t give a fuck who got the controller, tell them niggas to stop taking my fuckin’ kills.”
Isaiah yells from the bed. “That’s not nice!”
“Oh, grow the hell up. He’s six,” I snap back in annoyance.
“I don’t give a fuck if he was six or sixty-six, sweetheart. That nigga gone need to stay the fuck out my way!”
My neck snaps back in an appalled status as I turn my head to look at my wide-eyed nephew. He couldn’t completely comprehend the vocabulary of the conversation but he saw my face and he knew there were bad words being exchanged in angry tones. My arms fold across my chest as Isaiah awkwardly climbs down from the bed and scurries out of the bedroom. Now, I’m about to get real disrespectful in this bitch.
I reply, “Bitch ass nigga, you gone watch who the fuck you talking to. Only a lame pussy boy gone talk to a woman and a child like that. Watch who the fuck you yelling at from your mother’s basement before I snap your fucking neck and pull your tongue out your mouth.”
“You ain’t gone do shit but keep yelling on your bitch ass boyfriend’s headset at some nigga you don’t even know,” he retorted with a chuckle. The disrespect is on his behalf is reaching new limits. “I’m supposed to be scared of some female?”
“This female will beat the black off you!”
“You talking big shit. Pull the fuck up then,” he barks. “Pull the fuck up. 9436 West Neptune Blvd. Apartment J4. Since you talking big shit. I’m not hiding, babygirl. I don’t hit women. Come see me and get met with this chrome barrel.”
This man is crazy.
I shout back with anger fueling my veins. “After you kiss my ass and this glock, bitch!” As if I was snapping a flip phone shut, I snatch off the headset and toss it across the room before I unplug the entire system. My heaving chest lifts my feet as I pace around my room. “I don’t know who the fuck…” I cut myself off, attempting to calm down and breathe. I can hear the devil’s voice ringing in my head.
Pull the fuck up. 9436 West Neptune Blvd. Apartment J4.
Pull the fuck up. 9436 West Neptune Blvd. Apartment J4.
Pull the fuck up. 9436 West Neptune Blvd. Apartment J4.
It is not until I settle down in the living room, Isaiah and Ayanna sitting on the center rug as they play Uno, that I take a moment to think over the address that was given by the angry voice on the other side of the headset. It begins to settle in my mind that my sister lives in an apartment building. The address? 9436 West Neptune Blvd. She is Apartment D7 on the fourth floor of the ten floors within the apartment complex. The thought sits in my brain for another five hours as I watch over my niece and nephew.
The idea of someone so bluntly disrespecting my family boils within my blood. It is the internet that gives people the largest balls, I am sure of it. King Killmxnger only said what he said because he thought he was untouchable. People like him need to be taught lessons… at least, that is what I believe. I was bullied growing up and one thing I strongly advocate for is the world understanding that anybody can be touched. This thought is exactly what drives me to strap myself with protection before hiding the gun with an oversized hoodie that matches my jeans.
Just as I finish adjusting my hoodie over the lump, Ayanna comes running into the room. “Zia, can we go to McDonald’s on the way home?”
“Yes,” I smile. I know their mother does not feel like cooking after this shift. Loni deserves a break and I’ll happily give it to her.
The McDonald’s stop is quick. Nuggets for everyone! For just a second, the punk bitch from earlier off of my mind until we get in the elevator. Isaiah and Ayanna walk in before while I remain hot on their tails. Only one other person is in the elevator. He stands at maybe 6’3, beautiful brown skin that was mostly hidden beneath a navy blue bomber jacket that reminds me of my uniform I was forced to wear during active duty. My eyes bounce between the kids and the expensive watch on his wrist. A low cut beard with crisp lines rests on the perimeter of his jaw.
His mumble is one of distraction as his fingers tap the keypad on his screen. “What floor?”
“Four,” exclaims Ayanna. She is known to keep a hidden excitement on standby when it comes to certain strangers. Isaiah, too interested in the toy from his Happy Meal, pays us all dust. “Four, please.”
The stranger glances behind himself. His brows furrow as he glances at me. Quickly, he realizes I’m far too grown to have such an adorable tone. His eyes drop down to Ayanna, a soft smile sprawling across his lips. I watch him for a second. He’s quite attractive but not worth giving up my two year relationship. Ayanna innocent stares back at him as I hold back my own smile at the exchange. The smile fades as he turns back to the elevator and clicks two buttons. One for the tenth floor and one for the fourth. The ding comes quick. I murmur a soft expression of gratitude as we exit the compacted space. The moment we enter my sister’s space, Loni sends the kids to put their overnight bags in their rooms. Officially alone, I break the silence.
“There was this big ass, marine built nigga in the elevator. He was cute but he caught me off guard,” I joke.
Loni leaves me standing at the door as she heads into the kitchen. I follow, not wanting to sit with my gun on my hip. “Brown skinned, dreads with the sides faded?” I nod my head and lean up against the counter. “Yeah, that’s Erik’s fine ass. He lives on like the ninth floor. Remember my friend Selene?”
“I can’t stand that bitch.”
Laughing, Loni pulls the food I bought her out of its brown paper bag and places it on the counter. “Yeah, they had a thing for a bit until like last year? Apparently, she only dates men with two legs and anything more is just too much for her after a while.” I nod with an impressed expression. I’m not surprised that he’s packing. “Anyway, you said what about somebody yelling at Isaiah?”
“Some mothafucka was talking big shit like he’s untouchable. So, he’s about to be touched. He lives in your building,” I say.
“Y/N, you are a veteran,” scolds Loni. “Don’t go looking for some weirdo on the internet who finds joy in shit talking to a six-year-old. His life is obviously sad enough.”
My nose scrunches beneath my squinting eyes that once rolled. “So? I was honorably discharged. What the fuck they gone do?” Loni stares me down. “Listen, he was yelling and cursing even after I told him Isaiah was a kid. It’s probably some twenty-two year old steroid user who plays video games between shots in his ass,” I explain. “So just tell me where J4 is so I can go scare him and curse him out.”
“Do you have your gun,” she asks.
I lie. “No, I don’t need it. I’m not hurting anybody, Loni. I’m just about to show him that this is not a game.”
“If you and Travis weren’t letting him play these games to sta—“
Smacking my lips, I drop my head at my older sister. “Loni, where is J4 at? If you don’t tell me, I’ll find it myself.”
Loni groans, dropping her chicken nugget in the container of barbecue sauce. She reluctantly gives up the information. “It’s on the tenth floor,” she says with closed eyes as she picks up her Coca Cola and wraps her lips around the straw. I smile. “Isaiah, Ayanna!! Come say bye to your Zia, she’s leaving early.”
I kiss my niece, my nephew, and even my sister before I go. I am mindful of the cameras watching me as I make my way up to the tenth floor. In the blindspot is where I put a silencer on my gun in case I use it. My phone says my boyfriend will be off of work in two hours, meaning I have to work fast. I can hear the voice echoing in my head as I walk around the corner and into the direction of where my final stop should be, I feel the anger I once felt earlier make its grand return. Two more steps to the right and here it is. Apartment J4. I glance around the floor to assure it is deserted. Unfortunately I cannot greet the punk with my own glock, the hallway camera is in visible sight. My fingers press against the peep hole to keep my identity disclosed.
The door swings open. “Why the fuck are you knocking on my door like you’re the—“ The same annoyed voive from earlier cuts itself off.
Something in me is slightly surprised but now is not the time. I place my hands in my hoodie’s pocket, gripping my gun. “You talked big shit on the game so I pulled the fuck up. Where’s the barrel, bitch,” I ask. Erik pulls the silver weapon from thin air and points it directly in my face. I can see down the barrel.
“Right here,” he says. Extending his hand out further, he presses the cold metal against my eyebrow bone. “You got some nerve pulling up to my spot like this.” Erik’s eyes narrow at me as his thumb runs along the edge of the gun’s handle.
Without feeling a single bit of intimidation, I calmly pull my weapon from my pocket and place it against his chest. His eyes drop down to catch a glimpse of what this ‘female’ is working with. Erik’s face remaibs stone cold. I can tell he did not expect this when his breathing pattern subtly changes. I press my own barrel against the left side of his chest, directly on his heart.
“You said pull up,” I remind him and the gun is cocked, his own still pressed against my left eyebrow. “I’ll kill you,” I state.
I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, and finally decided to just go for it. I read a lot of Black Panther fan fiction, especially Erik Killmonger fics (they’re my favorite). I have decided to write reviews for the ones I read. I will discuss what is working in the stories and what could be better. I am an artist and love discussing works of art! I don’t know what to call this yet, but maybe it will come to me along the way. I am open to request just limit the fics to the ones about Erik Killmonger Stevens ( did I mention he was my favorite). So here we go with my first review.
Okay so this first story I would like to review comes from one of my favorite authors of the fan fiction world. @nahimjustfeelingit-writes has a nice curated master list, and its hard to just pick one. So that’s why I am starting with this one and will review others if this takes off. I reread the fics all the time like its my first time reading them, and I end up falling in love all over again. Yeah they’re that good. However I’m kicking this review off with fics I have not read multiple times. Yes it was my first time reading them. So here we go…
First impression based off the title: how crazy is Erik going to be? Like we all know that Erik is one crazy motha-SHUT YO MOUTH. So how can you top that. Well before I even finished the part one I was screaming RUN BITHC RUN, and granted the fic is written where the reader could insert their name for the reader, I was yelling at myself. And anytime a nigga says to you “you have me, I’m all you need”, sis prepare your self to fight b/c he has you all the way…
This fic took me on a rollercoaster ride. A good one at that. One that you are about to have a heart attack just waiting in line for. I was terrified reading this I didn’t know what the hell was going to happen next. The fic was written well and flowed well. I could feel all the emotions that ran through Erik, and there was a lot of them. And the smut…yess the smut. As always well written. So when it came to the sex I was all for it and it didn’t disappoint. you could almost feel for Erik knowing his background and his childhood. Well I didn’t think I would say this but Erik definitely has Joe beat. Only a man with the nickname Killmonger could do that. Well done @nahimjustfeelingit-writes can’t wait to read the next one!
You and Erik were newlyweds. Only two months into your marriage and you were both still madly in love with one another. He was an amazing husband, friend, and soon to be father. You hadn’t told him yet, but you were a few weeks pregnant. You decided to wait until after you both move into your brand new home that you purchased before the wedding. The beautiful five bedroom, four and a half bathroom home sat on three acres of land. Erik wanted to be out of the city stating that after a long day at work, he wanted to come home to peace and quiet. You agreed and here you both were, unpacking boxes and setting up your new furniture.
“Baby! Why you buy this ugly ass couch?” Erik called from the living room. You were in the kitchen putting away the white dishes that you spotted at Pottery Barn. Erik thought it was ridiculous that you would spend over $200 on a 6 set of plain ass dishes.
“Stop talking about my couch! I love that emerald green. Plus it’s velvet. Think of all the hot sex we’ll have on it” you say walking into the living room to see him sitting in a sea of bubble wrap.
“If you say so. It’s still ugly as fuck” he flips the couch upright and stands back to look at it.
“Still ugly” you both laugh. He wraps his arm around your waist and kisses the side of your head.
Dinner was takeout. You were both too tired to cook. And for once, you were both too tired to have sex. After getting into bed, Erik snuggled up behind you and wrapped his arms around your body.
“You know I love you right? You’re the best thing to ever happen to me” he whispered into your ear.
“I love you too baby. So much” you say back.
You wake up the next morning. Windows open, fresh air blowing throughout your master bedroom, sheer curtains blowing in the wind. You smile as the sun kisses your smooth brown skin as you stretch out. Noticing Erik is gone because he went to work, you climb out of bed to get your day started. You were an online teacher/tutor and worked whenever you felt like it. In your free time you enjoyed drawing and painting.
You walk downstairs to see coffee was already made and a cute sticky note on the counter.
“I love you beautiful. I’ll see you after work”
You smile as you stick the note back onto the white marble countertop. Pouring yourself a small cup of black coffee, you carry it back upstairs to your office area. You work for maybe two hours when there’s a knock at the front door. You pull out your cellphone to look at the security camera. Two police officers. You raise your eyebrows confused and get up to answer the door.
“Hi officers. Can I help you?” You ask, palms sweaty and heart beating fast.
“Ma’am, are you Mrs. Stevens?” The female officer asks.
“Y-yes? What’s this about?” Your voice was shaky.
“Ma’am…your husband Erik, he was involved in a fatal accident this morning. He was pronounced dead upon arrival….” her voice faded out and your entire world turned upside down. Everything around you was blurry and the sound was distorted.
A/N: Hey babies, I really hope y’all are being safe in these uncertain times. Here is more cuteness. It’s a bit long, but I have ground that I wanna cover and this is what will make sure everything gets touched on. Happy reading!!
Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black Reader
Anxiety has fully set in as the class reunion was underway. Wiping your hands on the sleek fabric of your little black dress, you frantically check in on the headset with your team at their designated stations in the auditorium. Leah manned the bar, Terri held down the games corner, Janiece at the food table and Renee acted as sentry at the DJ booth. Eyes were everywhere to anticipate your guests’ every need, while you were at the entrance, greeting everyone who arrived ready to get a blast from the past.
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Description: A traumatic event turns a old enemy to something more…
Pairing: Killmonger x Y/N
Prompt: “Don’t get up. I’ll do it.” (creds @doiesmiles)
Warnings: insta love???
A/N: I’m tired but I missed writing so this is for you babes, I promise chapter 3 of unconditional will be out soon. How do you guys feel about more avengers fics would that be something you would want to see? (Killmonger is apart of the avengers for purposes of this fanfic)
You have been a part of Dora Milaje for the past 20 years. You trained, fought, and lived to protect Wakanda. It was your home and the only place you’ve ever felt fully accepted. The battle of Wakanda left you home utterly destroyed, houses were consumed with flames, people laid dead in the once green lush land that was once where children played. A deep ache fell through your body when you saw your friends drift away into dust like they never existed. Thanos was successful and you couldn’t believe it. You put faith into the Avengers yet the majority of them are dead, your whole world collapsed and there was no one else to help you pick up the pieces.
You walked around trying to help the injured. Your system was so overwhelmed with all of the events that just occurred you couldn’t handle it. Screams echoed in your ears and agony struck through your body. You collapsed immediately, your head bounced against the grass. The last thing you saw was black boots rushing forward toward you before your eyes slowly faded to black.
2 days later…
You woke up in a bright room. Light flooded through the windows and the air inside was crisp and cold. Your chest heaved up and down with slight discomfort. Your eyes glanced to your arms which were bruised black and blue and wrapped in bandages. You tried to push yourself up and adjust your bandages but as soon as you put pressure on your arms you felt a throbbing pain strike everywhere in your body.
“Don’t get up. I’ll do it,” a deep brooding voice called from across the room.
You looked up to see Killmonger walking calmly toward your bed. Your chest tightened with worry and slight discomfort.
You were aware of Killmongers’ effort to be a better person but that didn’t change the fact that he tried to take over Wakanda and he cost innocent people their lives.
“No it’s fine I can do it myself,” you replied with a stern chilling voice while struggling to move your body upward.
Killmonger simply ignored your dry reply and grabbed the bandages out of a cabinet close to your bed. You sighed in defeat and let the man rewrap your bandages.
“What’s your issue with me?” Killmonger questioned with a judgmental tone.
“The fact that you have to ask that shows how much of an idiot you are,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“Look I get that I’m a shitty person but I’m trying to change that so at least give me some credit,” he pulled away and his eyes shifted toward yours.
You could feel the pain in his voice. It struck you like a knife and you felt ashamed of how you had treated him. You finally understood that he actually felt guilty about the things he has done.
“I’m sorry for being so harsh. I’m just not great at forgiving people, with so much loss surrounding us I guess I gave up hope that people could change,” you let the apology slip through your lips and it filled the room with a melancholy feeling.
“It’s fine I completely understand,” he glanced and met your eyes yet again.
“It’s a tragedy, I finally found my family and now half of them are dead.” a tear danced down his cheek but he quickly tried to wipe it away before you noticed.
“People I’ve known my entire life turned to dust right in front of me but the shittiest thing is I’m still here, I don’t deserve to be here while they aren’t,” you wrapped your sore arms around your empty stomach.
You spent hours talking with Killmonger and before you knew it tears left your eyes and left hot streaks on your face. Your head dropped to your knees and your arms covered you like a bullet proof shield. Pressure built up in your chest and breathing became like a chore with how difficult it was. The weight of the world finally sunk in, everything you had seen replayed in your head like a bad dream but deep down you knew it was real.
You felt a strong hand bring you into a close hug. Warmth and safety blanketed you instantly. You heard a sob escape from Killmonger. You both held each other for the longest time, there was a need to be with someone right now and you were all each other had.
You separated and looked deeply into each others eyes. Suddenly your hands grasped his neck and pulled him in closer. You could feel heat radiating off his skin. Desire took over both of your bodies and there was nothing in the world that could stop you. Killmonger wrapped his strong arms around your and gently pushed you closer to him. You stared into his deep chocolate brown eyes and sparks shot off within your body like fireworks. Finally with an aggressive need your lips connected. A soft tingling sensation was set off throughout both of your bodies. Your lips touched like they had done this a million times before. So many emotions flooded your system and the only thing you could do was surrender to this man, this kiss and this moment.
It took an eternity for the kiss to end but it left you thirsting for more. It had been a long time since you’d been kissed let alone acknowledged and you knew from the second that your lips touched you were hooked to this man.
When you disconnected shame darted across Killmongers face.
“I- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to come on too strong,” he apologized like he committed a crime.
“I just really like you a lot Y/N, I thought you would hate me after everything so I never told you, today I watched you fight, you were fierce and you didn’t hold back…” Killmonger tried to continue his speech before you cut him off.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, I like you too, why’d you think I was giving you the cold shoulder the whole time you’ve been here I did it so I wouldn’t get attached. I couldn’t lose someone else so I tried to let you go, from the moment your eyes connected with you were ingrained in my head,” weight lifted off of your body as soon as you finished pouring your heart out.
Instead of the words you were expecting next you found yourself in another passionate kiss. This kiss had a different agenda to it. The need for each other was enhanced by a million and you felt comfort in his soft lips against yours. You could get used to this.
He pulled away and spoke softly.
“We’re in this together,” his fingers ran across your chin.
“Where exactly are you taking me,” you slur through toothpaste, spitting it in the sink before rinsing. It’s still early, 8:45, but he’s fast, putting on clothes in his room while you take the bathroom.
“Well you need clothes, I ain’t forget.”
“And hair products, a curling iron, satin cap, my own body wash,” you add using his mouthwash. It’s good he has extras of the basics. The bathroom door is cracked so he can walk in and hand you a stick of deodorant which you jam under your arms and set in an empty drawer with your toothbrush for your own. “Okay, v-neck come through.”
Full business casual, he comes up beside you in the mirror brushing his shaved sides down and you walk out to put your shoes back on, wearing the same clothes from yesterday.
The way out of the building is just as smooth as the way in. You take a staircase to a display where his glossy burgundy BMW sits with tinted windows and custom tags.. his trophy.. and then you get in. He presses a button and you sink through tinted glass looking out at the view until you reach ground and the wall goes up behind you allowing him to back out onto pavement.
“I’ll never get over that,” you mumble looking through the side mirror to watch the opening shut. His own private entrance. A ‘sky garage’ he called it.
“What do you think about Black Wall Street?” He’s driving somewhat normal now, only six miles over the speed limit and you haven’t felt like you were going to fall through the door yet which is a plus.
“Black business, black mecca.”
“It’s been the pinnacle of black successful business. If you look at Tulsa, Jackson Ward, Durham.. We were at the height of self-sufficiency. We had bankers, builders, mechanics, electricians, cooks, shoemakers, tailors…. hairstylists. Anything you needed, you’d get from your own people and it worked! We were putting money in each other’s pockets and building wealth with each other, taking pride in our blackness instead of tryna be the third white race… you know Asians are the second.”
“I was with you until that last one.”
“Nia, you know what happened to all them cities?”
“They were destroyed.”
“By who? Did we destroy ourselves?”
“Boy. Who are you, Dr. Umar?”
“That’s what you think?”
You touch the small black, red, and green beaded necklace with the wooden brown carved Africa pendent sitting in his cupholder.
“Umar Johnson is an ignorant misogynist who uses his platform to spread false information while robbing his followers. That’s what you think of me?”
You blink. “No, I only meant the superwoke part.”
“Unlike him, I have a Ph.D and I don’t think AIDS came from gay black men, but it was intended to decimate the black population.”
“I get it, don’t compare you,” you mutter watching the Oakland city views through your tinted window. People are out, strutting and power-walking on sidewalks and jogging across streets to work.
“Who destroyed our black wall streets?”
“White people,” you sigh giving him what he wants.
“Never forget that the US National Guard united with White Nationalists in 1921 to bomb and shoot up the Greenwood District of Tulsa. They destroyed 35 blocks of self-sufficient black business, murdering an estimated 200 people and injuring more. This is what happens when you and I pull ourselves up by our bootstraps in this country. Jackson Ward? Socio-economic assault. They built a highway right through it and put their own businesses around it to undercut our efforts. They chased us out and sent us to housing projects then filled them with drugs. You see where I’m going with this?”
“I think I’m starting to.”
“Nia, you’ve seen my dreams, you’ve seen where I’ve been. I’ve stood on both sides and seen firsthand how easy it is to infiltrate and decimate an entire city, a region even with the right intelligence and firepower. Hell, I’ve even pulled the trigger and I’m not proud, but it was a necessary evil for me to see that it doesn’t matter how strong you build or how pure your intentions are. When a government decides that you’ve surpassed the ceiling of poverty they’ve designed specifically for you they’ll wipe out a generation, drug you up, and restart you from zero. Do you understand how deep this goes?”
You finger the beaded necklace in your lap. Of course you understand everything he’s saying, but what he’s expecting from you is a different story and you won’t agree to anything prematurely.
“Where’s the end,” you ask. How will he know when he’s accomplished this great mission he’s been on for most of his life? It’s all he breathes. Will he even survive without the fight as his purpose? Keeping your silence, you watch his profile as he turns left.
“Africa. Africa was the start and it’ll be the end, but in the meantime we need to provide legal and physical protection here, major city by city. We need safe houses, secured and armed.. built to withstand the force of a nuclear weapon.”
“How will you manage that?”
“How long will it take is the question.” Pulling up to a building standing among other buildings, this one is as big as a high school with lettering across the front reading Wakandan International Outreach Center. Temporarily, you put the fact that you’re supposed to be shopping to the back of your mind. You’ve heard of this place on the news, but somehow you didn’t put this together. He parks in front of some well manicured bushes in a space marked for the CEO.
“You’re the CEO?” You look around at the cars in the lot, the WIOC bus, and to the people walking inside.
“You ain’t know? Ms. See Everything?”
“If I saw everything, I’d have figured this thing out between us. Don’t ya think?”
He steps out and adjusts his tie. He’s got the grey v-neck sweater vest, the white collared shirt underneath. The navy chinos.. and the navy oxfords.
Getting out, you spin showing off the same outfit you’ve been wearing and his brows raise subtly as you walk in beside him. Immediately he’s rushed with greetings from the three people at the front desk, two guys and a girl, all wearing black WIOC shirts with blue and purple lettering that reminds you of a 90s paper cup pattern. Very stylish and retro.
The girl with the baby face and two long feed-in braids, is reaching out, grabbing your hand to stamp with some sort of mallet which he gently blocks with two fingers on her wrist before it makes contact.
“Shakila, this is an affiliate,” he stares. The girl straightens, backing up meekly and the guy to her right.. the one with a rougher feel and a troublesome glint in his eye can’t be over 21, you guess. He rolls out from behind the desk and you see he’s wearing all black roller skates with orange and green swirled wheels. They look custom.
“72 people in the building, boss, counting you two. Ghost and Slim out patrolling, say we gotta bluebird.. 5-0 campin at Fuller’s they up to something but they been quiet..up there since about 8:15 this morning.”
“Keep watching. Let me know if anything changes.”
“Yezzir.” He rolls off down the hall and makes a right, disappearing.
“Donnie, how you doin,” Erik asks the man who’s been reading a magazine, chillin. He’s bald, light skin, and looks over 40. He’s also as big as Erik! His muscles make his t-shirt took like a muscle shirt, it’s tight, but it seems more of a personal style choice than an issue of not being able to get a bigger shirt.
Erik taps the desk before continuing down a short hall that splits into three and you walk alongside him, making a left when he makes a left and passing two young boys in the hall.
“They thought I was bringing you in for assistance,” he clarifies and your face scrunches. “But you and your salon might be interested in becoming affiliates after I give you the tour.”
“Really? Wow..” This thing with him just keeps getting stranger.
“This is the women’s dorm,” he stops in front of a large expanded room, a space filled with about.. “Twenty beds, ten bunk beds. Forty women can sleep here with their kids. They call and we hold the spot or they show up and take it. That’s all the beds we could fit in there but I’m thinking of expanding. The men’s dorm is on the other side of the building. Don’t worry, we have security. No incidents yet. Further down,” he leads and you follow him down the clean tile hall. He takes you into another opening that says locker room.
“It’s like a YMCA in here.” You turn looking all through at the rows of lockers with actual locks, the showers, four toilet stalls, four sinks.
“There are 60 lockers, eight showers, eight stalls, eight sinks, two washers, and two dryers.”
“Y'all water bill high.” Looking back to him, he smiles and nods for you to head out into the hall again as you follow him. “This place is nice, if I didn’t have my apartment, I’d try to stay someplace like this.”
“It’s our safe place for homeless kids and families or just people who need a place to be without having to look over their shoulder, wondering where their meal coming from or who’s after them.”
Pausing, you look around and Erik stops. This place is beautiful. He’s even got the babies’ art hanging on the walls making the place warmer.
“Yeah.. You know, I’d actually love to be affiliated with this place. I wanna donate. How do I do that?”
“I’m glad you asked, Nia. Keep walking with me. Let me show you the rest,” he smirks, speeding up as he unlocks a door with his handprint that lights up blue.
“What the hell,” you mutter staring between him and the door.
“Staff only entrance. Extra measure to keep the women safe on this side, if you wanna leave or come in, there’s one way and you gotta get through security, that way you’re only back here if you’re supposed to be.
Through the door is another hall that’s perpendicular to the one you just left. You follow him left and come to a large open cafeteria full of people sitting at tables, eating. Men, women, small children, teens, all black for the most part. There is a sprinkle of darker skin that isn’t black. A mother with three young kids and then an old man.
“How do you get away with only taking black people? Isn’t that 'discrimination’,” you ask with air quotes. Not that you take issue with it, you’re just curious. He laughs.
“When the colonizers come we just tell them we don’t have the space and if there’s an issue we have Donnie escort them out. We don’t get governmental assistance, we’re not required to run how they think we should run. We screen everyone who comes through and take who we think will benefit from our programs.
"Wow, I’m with it,” you smile following him to the food line.
“Gone 'head baby,” the older woman in front of him waves for you both to go ahead. He puts his hand on her back and kisses her cheek and the line ahead happily parts like the red sea letting the both of you through with a quickness. They love him. They genuinely love him. They also all have stamps on their hand. One woman is trying to pull her stubborn toddler aside and out of the way, but Erik sweeps him up and sits the boy on his hip, winking at the woman before passing you a white dish and grabbing two more.
“What you want lil man,” he asks as he goes through each option fixing two plates. One (sausage links, grits, eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, pancakes, fruit cup) for himself and one (sausage links, bacon, eggs, pancake, fruit cup) for the kid.
Choosing a table, you sit with your plate (some of everything because it looks good) and Erik follows, sitting across from you with the kid and the two plates.
“I’ll get the drinks,” you offer heading back to pick up two glasses of apple juice, making it to the table before returning for one more glass and three straws. You pass them out and take your seat, mouth watering and ready to eat.
“Bow your head and close your eyes, please.” You lower yours and wait.
“I don’t close my eyes.” He lowers his head and you say the prayer as the toddler reaches into Erik’s plate grabbing one of his sausages. Erik doesn’t look up but he shakes his head with a slow smile and you try to keep from laughing as you finish saying grace.
“Amen,” you snort picking up your fork.
“This why I keep my eyes open,” he points to the kid, shaking his head in humor. He sets the boy in the seat and hands him a piece of his own sausage. Looking over, you see the mom approaching with her plate and an apologetic smile.
“Lord,” she sighs. She’s pretty though she looks tired. “I’m so sorry, he’s a handful, I know.”
“Not at all,” Erik smiles. She sits next to her son and he automatically starts pulling on her, saying “mama, mom, mommy,” just busy, so she pulls him onto her lap to keep him still. They’re both cute and remind you of Lia and her son, Jackson.
“This is Chyna.. and Orion,” he palms the boy’s head playfully. “Chyna, this is Nia,” he nods digging into his plate.
“Hi Nia,” she smiles and you reach out to take her hand, asking how she is. She’s great but ready to eat, she laughs and for a while you all just focus on eating.
“Mommy,” Orion starts and you understand 40% of what he just said. His mom entertains him with hums of “Really? Oh wow,” as she eats, feeding bacon into his hands.
“You here for a job,” she asks looking up and it’s an innocent question.
“I’m here on tour of the facility, just lookin-”
“Nia is an affiliate and potential shareholder. We’re in discussion,” he interrupts.
“Oh okay..,” Chyna’s eyes widen. “So you’re getting a feel of the center. Let me tell you why this place is so important,” she says all humor gone.
“Me and my son have been here for the past few nights.. a few nights before that.. and then maybe a week prior.” She looks to Erik and he nods.
“His father, Rashaad,” she continues, gesturing to her son, “He died last month and didn’t leave a dime. I talked to his family and my family and they told me I could sign over his body and the state would cremate him,” she pauses, still in shock from it. “…But I couldn’t do that…” Tears leak from her eyes and you look around for a napkin. She swallows, her eyes turning pink, and takes a breath. “Then there was the rent.. We hadn’t paid it for the month and our extension was running out,” she sniffs. “Well I had a funeral to plan, I couldn’t let the state take him.”
Orion, feeling her sadness, rubs her face to try to make her feel better and she tries to pull herself together.
“So ah-” she wipes her nose. “I took a chance and contacted the Wakandan International Outreach Center and they not only paid for the burial and the coffin, they sent a representative to the funeral for words of encouragement and I’ll never forget that,” she sighs. Erik keeps his eyes down to his plate.
“See, his daddy.. was a hood,” she continues, eyes dead on yours. You know what she’s talking about. You don’t have to grow up in Cali to have family in the streets. “He was shot out there in the streets in a driveby…,” she sniffs. “And you know.. people like to talk a lotta shit, but even if he wasn’t nothing to nobody else, he was someone to me. I loved him.”
“We’re working on getting Chyna a higher paying job to cover her rent,” Erik interjects giving her time to wipe her face.
“Yeah, they paid the rent for the month and they’re paying next month. I’m taking the class on building a resume now. I’m still working at Ross, I’m just trying to do everything I can.
"You’re doing a lot,” you offer and Erik gestures for you to stand to follow him out. “It was good to meet you and hear your experience,” you smile shaking her hand.
“Thank you, and I’m glad you’re trying to help. We need more people like him,” she points to Erik.
“Shit, don’t boost me,” he smiles. It’s something he’s done a lot since he’s been here and you’ve noticed that his smile is something that brings so much peace and a sense of safety to these people. Still, looking at him you can see deep down there’s a spot in him that isn’t touched. It’s full of rage and intense sadness that his smile can’t cover. If only the peace he provided to all these people would reach him.
Erik is a big self-made pornstar who goes by his pseudo name, Killmonger, Killa E or Kill. He uploads videos on the internet and gains millions of views daily. The reader, Erik’s #1 fan, ends up meeting Erik at an exclusive party 👀
Synopsis: Reader finds out Erik has been hiding who he really is, so he tells her his story.
Erik had been gently rubbing your back as you laid next to him naked in his bed. The cool night air breezed over your body as the smooth white satin sheet did nothing to hide your form from him. The open window let in sounds from the calming Oakland night. Sirens rang out in the distance, but you knew nothing but peace and sleep until Erik shared a secret with you that almost made too much sense.
Erik’s son has been struggling to tell him that he is gay for as long as he could remember
He’s so used to his father being this ladies man and all of his cousins and uncles are the same way.
They ask Erik’s son when is he going to get a girlfriend? He’s sixteen and doesn’t really talk about girls nor does he have that secret stash of porn.
He’s also a football player. Erik wanted him to get into basketball but his son enjoyed football better. That’s where he realized he was gay. Erik’s son befriended a new kid from school who was on his team and they clicked.
Erik’s son would hang out with the kid at his house, stay up and play video games, go hang out at the skate park after school because Erik’s son enjoys skateboarding. The kids parents and Erik’s parents became friends as well.
The kid who’s friends with Erik’s son gets all this attention from chicks and Erik’s son could understand why. He’s very handsome. Every time he comes around Erik’s son gets butterflies and he can’t help but wish the kid would look at him like he looks at other girls.
The day Erik’s son tells him is the same day that the kid surprises his son by kissing him in the gym locker room after practice. The first time a guy ever kissed him. It took his breath away. He felt so complete in that very moment. The world around him and it’s corrupt way of thinking wouldn’t rain down on him anymore.
He wasn’t ashamed
He really liked this new friend and possibly new boyfriend
All of this will work itself out if he could tell Erik and finally open up to everyone. The kid he’s friends with wants the same thing. They share a heartfelt moment while hugging eachother. Tears flow as they express that they want acceptance and they are tired of living a lie
Erik’s son gets picked up by Erik and he asks his father if they could go to the little league football field close to their home so he could talk to him and toss the ball back and forth. Erik says:
“Yeah, King, we can do that. Did something happen in school that you’re not telling me about?” King is his sons name.
“Nah, I just want to talk.” King looked down at his hands nervously, “I just want to talk with my Dad.”
“Okay,” Erik looks back at him through the rear view mirror, “You know we can always do that, son, talk to me about anything, okay?”
“Yeah dad,” King gave Erik a reassuring smile, “I know.”
Both of them arrive to the field. It’s a little windy outside but the sun shines and it gave King some hope. King sits his things down on the bleachers before grabbing his signed football from an Oakland Raiders player. Erik helps pull his sons longer dreads back so they wouldn’t get into his face while they toss.
“We gotta get you over to your Auntie Tonya because you have hella new growth that needs to be re-dreaded. There, better?”
“Yep,” King smiles up at his dad from tying his cleats.
“Cool, lets do this.”
They toss the ball back and forth, the distance between them increasing to throw the ball higher and longer. This gave King some time to reflect on what he was about to tell his father and how his life would change now at the age of 16.
“Aight, bring it in,” Erik grabs his son to playfully put him in a head lock. Both of them laugh before settling on the bleachers. They drink some Gatorade in silence for a second before King turned to his dad.
“Dad. Um…I have to tell you something and I don’t want you to freak out, okay?” King’s voice shook a little so he cleared his throat to calm himself.
“Okay.” Erik said while staring at his son, his everything. They one he had when he was just a child himself but that didn’t stop him from achieving his goals.
“Um…Dad…um…I’m-I’m gay.” King closed his eyes, looking away from Erik. It was silent. Kings leg shook as he waited for his dad to yell at him and tell him he should be liking girls. King wipes his eyes with the collar of his shirt, sniffling too.
King sniffles, turning back around to his dad but not actually looking at him.
“King. I love you. All of you. Always. I…I sort of had a feeling but I wanted you to tell me. I’m glad you did because…because I didn’t want you to feel alone in this. So many people feel alone and they can’t open up to their loved ones. I don’t want that to be the case with me and you. Your my world, boy, I’ll die for you. I will never be ashamed of who you are. You are MY SON. Gay or not you are my son. I love you, King, I love you for finally wanting to be you. Don’t hide yourself because of these motherfuckers out here. Just know, Dad got your back.”
King looked up at his father through wet lashes. He had a feeling. He respected his father even more for not asking him of pressuring him to tell him. King knew that telling his father was the first step in his coming out.
Erik clenched his jaw before reaching over to grab the back of King’s head, pulling him closer to plant a kiss to his forehead.
“Don’t be, you have your father’s protection. And your mothers. She’s looking down on you and she’s proud of you. I love you, boy, it’s okay. We’re okay.”
“But…what if they don’t accept me?”
Erik knew the answer to that question. He knows how awful the world can be. This is not just his sons journey but his as well. Erik wouldn’t anything happen to his son. He will fight.
“Then fuck them. Fuck everyone else’s opinion. People will have something to say, King. It’s human nature. But who gives a fuck about them? Have pride. That’s what matters. Fuck those problematic people,” Erik wipes his sons face, “Hey, I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad,” King wrapped his arms around his father, crying into his shoulder, “Thank you for making this part easier for me.”
“Always. I will always support my son.”
King finally came out as gay and there were a few assholes at school but for the most part his friends and family accepted him. King had thought the worse. He told his father about how he likes his friend and Erik gave him advice.
Erik was supportive, loving, and all around a great father to King. He saw a strength in his son that reminded him of how he once was. He knew his son was going to be okay.