Killmonger's One-Shot Collection

Cruisin'

Notes: A chill day date with the one and only Erik Stevens. Clean and fluffy.
♡

"Damn baby, come to daddy," Erik grinned when he came to scoop you. His gold fangs glinted in the white sunlight casting a blinding glare only matched by his golden chains. His thick locs shined with health and moisture, braided neatly back over a fresh fade and line-up. His skin glowed like a sunset in this daylight, his beauty out of place.. shining like a beacon. A rose out of concrete. Yes, your bestfriend turned boyfriend of two months was glorious and you were absolutely smitten.

Springing into his waiting arms, you press your clean face into his chest and inhale his fresh and clean scent. He smells like soap and detergent, slightly sweet. His whole look screams Cali boy with the olive green and black fit complete with Converse. When he raises your hand above your head taking a slight step back, you spin 360 and face him in time to see him light up in pride. You aren't wearing anything extravagant, a graphic cut-off tee and camo print pants. Surely it must be the yellow. He's voiced a couple of times how he loves that color against your skin.

"You bangin', baby."

"You look like a whole buffet yourself. You just can't help it, can you?"

"Ah," he smirks, "You boostin' mine."

"Nigga hush, you know you look good." You flash him a bright smile and his hand floats to your butt with a rough squeeze.

"You really wanna go out? We could just stay to ourselves and chill."

"Noo, we always do that. I wanna get out the house." Slipping past him, you nestle into the passenger seat of his black NSX and once he climbs in bedside you, the music comes on and the car floats off down the road.

"Where to, lil mama?" He drives with one hand on the wheel, his strong veiny arm and large shoulders proud. It's something so small, but it's turning you on.

"I just wanna ride. It's a beautiful day, you got a full tank. Let's just cruise."

"Aight.. we'll cruise on the way to where I'm taking you."

He rides around, pass little shops and eateries. Pass people walking outside, checking out the car from a distance. Pass a group of young guys having fun on their bikes. The 90s rap in the background sets a chill vibe that makes you look bob your head like a gangsta doing a drive-by. In your head right now you are Snoop in Baby Boy and everyone you ride pass is a Jody. You twist your lip subtly, feeling the role until the car stops at a random gas station and you hop out with Erik following his example grabbing chips, snapples, candy, and whatever other snacks jump out at you. When you look up, Erik seems to have disappeared. You look around to find him and he's in an aisle behind you. Your phone lights up with a text.

Act normal. Get what you can run with and and in twenty seconds run to the car.

Wow, nigga really tryna do a grab n' go. Usually you don't condone this type of behavior, but today feels like a really good day to be bad. You text back '😈' and casually pick up another drink, keeping your eyes on the aisles of snacks as you inch toward the door. Then, like lightening Erik bolts toward you and you're giggling madly on your way to the car which whips off as soon as your door closes.

"Shit, baby! You tryna make me a criminal," you laugh through hard breaths, holding on to your stolen goods. He snickers his sneaky grin.