Erik Killmonger: Headcanon-Fic Hyrbid

Secret Admirer

Anonymous asked:

Request : Headcanon of Erik being jealous

- You would think that with all the confidence, accomplishments, and swagger Erik Stevens had, there would be no need for him to ever be worried about anyone else, especially when it came to the rock solid relationship the both of you'd built over the years

- He was an incredibly educated, resourceful, and intelligent strong black man.

- Unfortunately, it did nothing to keep him from always being just a little bit jealous.

"Hey, E? I'm gonna drop my stuff and go run to the store real quick. Text me if you need anything, ok?" you yell down the hallway, letting your work bags fall softly by the couch before slinging your purse around your shoulder and heading out the door.

"Get me some gatorade please! The clear kind!" he hollers back, head poking out from the bedroom. The front door closes right as he says it, and he chuckles to himself. 'Always moving a mile a minute,' he thinks, smiling as he thinks of you. He makes his way out into the living room to grab his phone, texting you the information you missed and to reminding you to slow down.

On his way back, he passes your stuff on the floor, scooping up the bags to put your things in your home office. As he grabs your computer bag, something falls out of the front pocket, a small red envelope addressed to a 'Miss Y/M/N' with hearts drawn around your name in the shape of another heart.

Erik picks it up, eyeing it while he turns it around in his hand for more details. He didn't want to open it because he trusted you too much to be looking through your stuff, but he was curious who it could be from since it wasn't February or anywhere near your birthday. And nobody ever called you by your middle name except for him (well, sometimes).

When he gets to your office, he places the rest of your stuff on your desk, plopping down in your chair, still fingering the card and twirling it between his hands.

It was already open, the seal broken, so he figured it couldn't hurt to just take a quick look at it. It was just a card, after all. Probably a thank you from one of your work wives or something for all your hard work.

Pulling out the card, he opens it, the neat words written in near perfect cursive, almost looking like one of those instruction guides on how to write script.

It read:

'The last three weeks have been the best I've ever had. I can't wait to show you what else I can do this Friday.'

Love,

Bakari

- The thing about Erik Stevens was, once he started to become suspicious, he became very dramatic about it, very fast.

- And it never took much to get him suspecting.

"What the... yo who the fuck is this Bakari nigga?!" he gets heated within a millisecond, flipping the card over obsessively to try and find a number or something to let him know who this secret admirer was.

There wasn't even an address on the envelope, which meant that this fool either gave it to her when she was in class, or walked his bold ass up to his house, HIS HOUSE, and dropped it in the mailbox.

Erik couldn't wait till you got home so you could explain to him what the hell he was looking at. He couldn't believe some random no good nigga was tryna put the moves on his girl. Not his baby girl.