As the song plays through the speakers Erik is tapping his fingers against the wheel while nodding his head to the song riding down the street to the next bus stop to pick up the morning bus riders.
Erik slows the bus as he makes his way to the bus stop. He pushes his foot on the brake and the bus makes a complete stop. Erik opens the door using the door handle that's by the steering wheel.
As the door opens, the sounds of feet running towards the door and running up the steps.
âGood Morning Mr. Erikâ, the kids say as they make their way to their seats and sit by their friends.
âGood Morning Everyoneâ, He says back as he closes the door and looks up to make sure everyone is seated and he drives off.
As he drives to the next stop in the neighborhood, He notices the little girl that rides the bus in the morning is not waiting and he starts wondering about the possible situations of her not being here.
Erik turns and asks one of the little girls that is sitting in the front row where she could be. The little girl just shrugs her shoulders and goes back to talking to her friends.
Erik then proceeds to turn back around and starts driving away from the bus stop and continues to pick up kids from their designated bus stops.
In the back of his mind, he wonders if something happened to her. Did she oversleep? Did her mom forget to take her to the bus stop again?
Erik makes a mental note to stop by her house later on this evening to see what is going on with her.
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Erik âDadmongerâ Stevens x Black PlusSized Reader
Another mini #supersizedfic. So I seen this video on twitter and instantly thought of our little princess. Hopefully you enjoy!
The members of the Wakandan council sat in their self assigned seats, looking to the King as he spoke on the events of the upcoming week. TâChalla spoke in his usual monotone âmeetingâ voice. His hands moved with every few words as he sat at the head of the table. On the other hand, Erik sat across from him at the opposite end of the table. His usual laid back demeanor on display as he half-listened to his cousin.
Every once in a while he shifted slightly in his seat so he wouldnât lose focus, smoothing his shirt. It helped the meeting pass somewhat, but not as much as the texts he snuck to you when he thought no one was paying attention to him. One of the tribe leaders spoke to TâChalla as Erik felt his African printed Apple Watch vibrate. Which he preferred to keep on his right wrist, opposite of his kimoyo beads.
He couldnât help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he thought of you. The image of you dancing around the kitchen as you fixed breakfast with a happy Amari on your hip this morning still fresh on his mind. Your matching yellow sundresses and sandals were the cutest to him, earning a photo for him to set as his new wallpaper. Heâd made sure to get a dance for himself with you both before heâd left.
Tapping the small device, itâs screen came to life and he seen the notification was from you. He gave his cousin a final glance before looking to the video. With an AirPod in his ear, he lowered the volume a little in case it was too loud. Amari was the first sound that greeted him.
His little princess laid in her playpen, looking up to the camera. Relaxing on the soft white furs of a baby shower gift from MâBaku, Amari focused on what he assumes was you behind the camera. Though when the bottle came into view, he had to force down a chuckle. Baby girl loved her bottle. Her legs got to kicking and her arms flapped, a smile on her lips as she giggled and cooed.
Calming down when youâd moved it away from her, she instantly began her happy dance again when you brought the bottle back to her. Another trait sheâd gotten from you, just as silly. Amari tried her best at words, reaching for the bottle happily. He was for sure smiling from ear to ear, and it was instantly confirmed by his cousin.
âI hope whatever youâre smiling at is an addition to this meeting, Erik.â TâChallaâs voice pulled Erikâs eyes from his watch. Gathering the eyes of the council as well. His aunt gave him an eyebrow raise as they awaited his answer.
Erik calmed the smile on his lips a bit, chuckling as he nodded to the device. âItâs a video of Amari, actually. If you wanna see it.â
Queen Mother, as well as Okoye, leaned forward a bit with interest. She gave a big smile to her nephew at the sound of her little princessâ name. âActually, I would like to see it.â Followed with a very low âI second thatâ from Okoye. TâChalla gave a soft look of shock at his mother, allowing her to give his hand a soft pat of dismiss. âEh. Itâll only take a moment, my son.. Erik, put it up for us to watch sweetie.â
Summary:Â Erik Stevens has fully embraced his new identity as Killmonger and infiltrated a mercenary group with ties to Ulysses Klaue. Invited to St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands to meet for the first time, Klaue is impressed with Erik, unaware that the man before him is the son of Prince N'Jobu Udaku, a man he betrayed on a failed mission in Wakanda years ago.Â
Erik ingratiates himself to Klaue and is found to be a useful member of the new mercenary team the black-market arms dealer and smuggler is putting together. As a reward for hard and profitable work, Ulysses allows Erik to stay a summer at his stash/safe house to keep a close eye on some stolen artifacts hidden there.Â
Erik uses that time to hatch the long term plan of using Klaue to gain access into Wakanda, however, he becomes distracted by Klaue's housekeeper who allows Erik glimpses into a possible different life he could have if he ever let go of his plans for revenge...
NSFW. Smut. Mature Audience Only. Complete 30 Part Story. The sequel will be in Volume 4 of the âBlack Boys Bloom Thorns Firstâ Book Series. Follow me so you can be updated! Please share if you enjoyed the book!
Now, before anyone else calls me out, Iâll admit it myself that Iâve been slacking. Itâs been way too fucking long since I posted chapters 1 & 2â my bad. đŹ Just love me, okay? A bitch is out here living a whole ass life.
If you donât want to be tagged, let me know. If you do want to be tagged, let me know.Â
Here it is yâall, Chapter 3.
Authorâs Note: I am very new to this, so be kind to me.
Warnings: Idk what goes here? Swearing? Use of the n word is inevitable.
Words: ~ 1.8K
Enjoy my loves xo đ€âš
Chapter 2
The air was thick. Almost opaque with the fear and anger; frustration and impotence rolling off of Erik and all around those nearest him. Why had her eyes zeroed in on his daughter, and why had the trio taken a collective glance at each other? Erik tried to shift Aurora away from the thieves' sightline, but theyâd locked in. They had seen her necklace, and it was apparent to all around them that this was what they were really after.
Zora attempted to break their laser-like focus on the child, âLook. The alarm has an auto trip function. Anything or anyone so much as cracks that glass above and it alerts the local police and SWAT. Youâve got 3 more minutes tops before--â
âYou shut her up, or I will.â Tatania never took her eyes off of Auroraâs necklace, but calmly and swiftly silenced Zora with a delicate yet deadly looking blade which just seemed to appear in her hand. She twirled it-- gracefully, almost majestically, but no less menacingly.
Puck went to Zora quickly and shook his head at her, revealing some of the short and gruesome cuts all over his neck and upper torso, just below his collar bones, trying to do for her what no one seemed to have done for him: shut her before things got worse. The sight of Titania wielding that knife seemed to have relieved him of his incessant chatter.
Nothing in Erikâs life could prepare him for this moment. No amount of time in the SEALs, nor number of deployments to Afghanistan could have prepared him with the tools to quell the fear which had taken root in his belly. The almost palpable tension in the air had him in a cold sweat; perspiration covering his whole body in a matter of moments, causing his black v-neck t-shirt to cling to his torso, his palms slick with the ever growing reality that he is outnumbered and outgunned while this psycho bitch has her focus zeroed in on his babygirl.
âMy, my, my. What a beautiful little flower you are, ma petiteâ Titania practically purred as she made her way across the bankâs lobby. She pulled up just short of the Stevens family.
âErrrrrriiiiiiiiiiik!â
He didnât need to see Portiaâs face to know she was upset with something. He also didnât need either degree from MIT to know that if he didnât hurry his narrow ass up those stairs to help her, it would only get worse. He sped up.
âYea, bae. Whatâs up?â
âThis is all your fault! I hate you for talking me into this, and I swear Iâll never forgive you.â
The morning sickness had been almost non-stop since her first trimester.
âCan I get you some Saltines? Tea? A ginger ale? Anything? Fuck, lemme get you a cool cloth.â
âNo, no, Iâm fine. Iâm just being bratty,â Portia said, head still in the bowl, ready to offer up yet another sacrifice to the porcelain gods. She knew that being miserable for the last 7 and a half months wasnât Erikâs intent when he first brought up trying for a kid. Heâd grown up longing for a family for so long, and from what little sheâd shared about her own, he knew that herâs wansât close. Building a family, just the two of them, had been his dream for the first two years of their marriage. When they decided to start trying, Portia didnât expect them to be so...good⊠at it. Within the first month of trying, it seemed to have taken, because within the first 6 weeks, she was puking every day.
Loudly. Painfully. Incessantly.
âItâs not bratty behavior when thereâs actually something upsetting you.â
âMon chou, Iâm not upset. Your child is just tossing and turning in there, and Iâm riding that wave of sea sickness. Iâll be fine. Besides, Iâve only got literal days at this point. This little butter bean will be here before we know it,â Portia finished weakly, lifting her head and trying to reassure him with a grimace she hoped looked more like a smile.
âUh, bae. I love you, but you gone stop calling my daughter a fuckin bean.â
âWell, since someone canât agree with his wife on a name or even agree to find out the sex, it looks like Iâm sticking to veggies and fruits. Maybe Iâll just call him Mommyâs Little Kiwi.â
âAye--â, Erik responded with a deadly look in his eye, â No daughter of mine is gone be some dumbass Kiwi. If ANYTHING, sheâs a pomegranate. She regal as fuck.â
Portia erupted into laughter. It was just the right kind of laugh to help her get out of wallowing from her morning technicolor yawn. Erik helped her to her feet, and she washed her face and brushed her teeth.
âOkay, well, if we canât agree on a fruit or vegetable, should we move from edibles to something else? We have to call him something.â
âHER name will come to us as soon as we lay eyes on her. How am I supposed to name my daughter before I ever see her?â
Portia tried a different tactic. âWell, it would help us if we just knew what sex we should be expecting, then we could be compiling a list of names to choose from. That way when he, or she -- she interjected quickly-- makes an appearance, we have a short list. Can we at least agree to a short list? We wonât even have to make a decision, weâll just have a jumping off point today.â
âFine,â Erik acquiesced. âLetâs start with the boys, it donât really matter no way,â he said sucking his teeth.
âIâm just sayin, ma. I know you carrying my little Princess. I just know it!â
Portia looked up into her favorite eyes in the world. Their depths fathomless when he was this full of love, and their color reminded her of the vanilla beans her grandmother used when making fresh ice cream when Portia was a young girl. She couldnât deny him anything when he looked at her like this. If she had the power to snap her fingers and move heaven and earth to give him a daughter in that moment, sheâd do it.
âOkay, well just humor me.â Portia asked they dressed to head out of the house.
They came up with a list of three names for a boy: Oscar, Maurice, and Bryan
For the girls, Erik wanted to stick to more of a theme. While he may have fought at the beginning to not even go down this path, now that he was here, he was determined not to walk away from this conversation without landing on his daughterâs name.
âOkay, how about this: she can have one name from each of us.â It was a little hard to hear Portiaâs words, coming through muffled since she was presently stuck trying to slip one of Erikâs hoodies over her puffy hair and swollen midsection.
Smart enough to not comment on his wifeâs dilemma, Erik just set out to help her finish pulling it down over her belly, and without a word on her current predicament, went to the closet to grab her slides.
âI like it,â Erik agreed. âBut which names? I donât have any family names I want to pull from. The only woman in my life growing up was my moms, and she was gone so soon, I wouldnât even want to lay all of that on a little one,â Erik quietly confessed to his wife.
âLetâs see. She could have a name from the Xhosa language for her heritage and family on your side. I donât know what to do for mine.â Portia was almost ready to go, just looking for her favorite hair wrap to tie up her mane.
Erik was quiet for a moment. Heart still grieving a mother and relationship long gone, while still overflowing with love for this swollen, smart mouthed woman that he knew his mom wouldâve adored.
âAnathi,â he said before he realized it. âIt means âthey are with usâ. Seems pretty fitting, huh?â
Portiaâs eyes caught his in the mirror as she tucked the last end of fabric in her wrap. Both sets were bright with tears.
âI love it,â she whispered, words barely audible. âBut what are we going to do about a first name?â
âWell, I like that thing your family has going on. All of yâall are named after women in literature, but they also are the names of constellations, right? How about, Juliet?â
âNigga! I am not naming my daughter after some little precocious child who thought she was in love and wound up offing herself over some knucklehead boy before they even turned 16. Try again.â
âAstrid,â Erik risked, only to be rewarded with a sharp sniff coming from Portiaâs direction as she gathered her keys and wallet.
âAurora!â He exclaimed.
âPretty sure Iâve never read that name as a leading lady in any story,â Portia countered, her haughty ass attitude slowly slipping away. These mood swings were getting out of hand.
âFuck. I just couldnât deal with you gettin any snippier, so I just thought of the most beautiful sight I could think of that made me think of the stars,â he answered, bashfully, putting on his finishing touches, and grabbing his phone, wallet, and keys.
âItâs perfectly, imperfect. Not quite what we set out for, and somehow precisely what we needed. Â Aurora Anathi Stevens. I love it, mon chou.â
His dimples took over his whole face. âReally? I just wanted her to have a little of both of us in her name. She gets your familyâs bougie ass legacy with names, and one of mine as a reminder of all the ancestors whoâve come before us.â
Portia was practically bouncing in place she was so happy. âI love it. Really, really.â She took a heavy, negro spiritual sigh. âI have to call my family and tell them weâve landed on a name. We donât talk much, but they at least need to know.â
âHow bout this: you call them while I drive. I think weâve earned a very nice breakfast of your choosing. Naming my daughter is kind of a big fuckin deal and all; letâs celebrate.â
âOooh! I know just what I want.â
Erik rolled his eyes and mouthed along, âStrawberry pancakes.â It was the same thing Portia had been craving this whole pregnancy. One short stack order of strawberry pancakes with blueberry syrup.
âAiight now, but donât be tryna pick off my plate. Iâm getting chocolate chip pancakes, and I ainât sharinâ shit.â
They climbed into his car just as Portiaâs family answered her call.
âHello, Erik.â
That cadence. The subtle lilt of an accent sheâs tried through years of practice to discard. Fuck.
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Oooh since itâs October!! I was wondering if i could request a fic or HC about either Erik x Reader talking their child(ren) going trick-o-treating or Trevante x Reader taking their child(ren) trick or treating. Or Erik x Reader (Trevante x Reader) going to a Halloween party and maybe thereâs a best dressed contest (or not)?
Thatâs a couple headcanons in itself đ Iâll do the one with the reader and Erik having kids first and if you send in another ask about the Halloween costumes Iâll do that one too đđ
Erik and His Kids:
Halloween was one of your favorite times of the year and your excitement for the holiday transferred to your kids, Nairobi and Leon.
Imagine their excitement when you told them that they were gonna do family themed costumes
Your daughter always dressed up as someone empowering or funny, this year she dressed as Wednesday Addams.
Your son always dressed like some sort of hero, real or made up but this year he was overjoyed to be Pugsley Addams
You decided to dress up as pretty much anything and everything every year and of course, this year you were Morticia Addams
Erik rarely dressed up for Halloween but when he did? He looks GOODT. Heâs dressed as Gomez Addams and lord have mercy he looks fantastic in a suit.
You and Erik taught your kids the most important rule of Halloween besides stay with mommy and daddy: Rich neighborhoods have the full size bars.
You were very thankful that you and Erik lives in a wealthy neighborhood because you genuinely did not feel driving around.
Your kids purposely choosing Erik to be the designated Candy holder because he was the strongest.
Being tugged from one house to the next by the excited kids.
Erik trying to cop a feel at any chance he could get.
âCome onnnn, you look too damn good, Mrs. Addams.â
Your kids giggling every time you mush Erikâs face away from yours when he tries to get close.
âMaâs gonna put you out again, watch.â Your ten year daughter speaks up and her little brother laughs in agreement.
Erik mocking the kids before flicking them on the back of the neck and shooting them away to next house.
You finally decide to go home around ten.
When you enter the home you take the bags of candy and rush them upstairs to get cleaned up and changed.
While they change so do you and Erik.
âYou know, E. You should control yourself, thatâs were too many kids out there for you to be trying to feel up on my cheeks.â
He would smack his lips saying âMannn, them lil niggas was gonâ learn some time soon anyway.â
Him having to dodge a pillow while laughing
When you, Erik and the kids are back downstairs you limit them to either one full size bar of candy or three bite size pieces.
Leon chooses the bite sizes, Nairobi chooses the full size.
You check their candy for any rips, holes, or weird smells.
The four of you ending the night by munching on candy and watching The Nightmare Before Christmas (One of my favorite holiday movies đ)
Imagine Erik going all out when his baby girl expresses interest in ballet.
He plasters posters of Misty Copeland and Raven Wilkinson all over her play room, which has now been lined with mirrors and a low bar that she can reach.
He holds her little foot up to the computer screen in an attempt to color match tights. Excited as fuck that there are ballet slippers in her skin tone.
Braiding and beading up her hair before class and proudly sitting in the back while his baby girl tears it up. Sheâs got too much damn swag.
One afternoon, the assistant dance teacher pulls Erik over.
âWhy?â Erik shoots back quickly, feeling the white bullshit beginning.Â
âWe really want the children to be as uniform as possible. We donât want anyone to really stick out.â
Erik looks around at the sea of white children and his single glowing dark one. She couldnât not stick out if she tried. Sheâs way more talented that any of her peers anyways.
âSo are you gonna do my childâs hair?â he quips.
The teacher stands there stunned, not quite sure what edges are. Erik packs his girl up in to the car and spends the entire day driving around the city from studio to studio asking a single question.
âYou got Black people here?â
Most desk attendants shrink back at the word Black, afraid to say something wrong to the enormous father with a girl in a pink leotard in his arms.
He finally pulls up to a studio and can hear African drums as he walks up.
An elegant Black teacher notices the new addition and leans down to ask for her name.
âWow! I love your braids! Who did them for you?â
Neo points over to Erik, beaming and then prances in to the studio. Erik smiles. Here sheâll stick out in a good way. Heâs so excited to see her become everything she can be.
Happy birthday! can you help me find a fic? itâs where reader and erik are famous and sheâs doing an interview and the interviewer asks if erik is controlling and she drags her and defends her man please and thank you ! (hope your day was amazing)
