When Words Fail | Erik “Killmonger” Stevens
Erik does not speak in riddles. Doesn’t like too much complexity, but he will show you exactly what happens when your words fail.
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Tonight was supposed to be perfect. You and Erik were hosting a barbecue. Everyone was healthy, happy, and freed their schedules just for a chance to be surrounded by the people they loved the most.
Erik’s best friends and their wives and a few of your closest friends and their spouses. This was supposed to be fun. But here you and Erik were on the opposite side of each other not addressing one another.
You two were indifferent since the morning. A small disagreement has now boiled over into the evening. Usually, you’d have time to talk to each other, fuck it out, and be cool again by the next morning. This was different.
Erik had to be up early to barbecue and you had last minute errands to do for your guests’ drink menu. That left no time to address the problem and it was clear by noon that neither of you cared to fix the issue.
The original agreement was to wear cohesive outfits, but Erik decided to dress himself in a plain white shirt with shorts, ignoring your request to match.
Two could play that game.
You’d match him alright. So here you were in a backless white romper with your hair down instead. He didn’t say a word but his stare held weight when you appeared downstairs for the first time.
You were watching something mindless on your phone as you prepared the drinking glasses from the bar. You could smell the salivating scent from the grill airing through the house and sighed. He’d always bring you a piece from the first batch to “taste” it, but you knew that it was just one of his favorite gestures to do.
You hated being into it, but you would not be the one to cave first. He was the one who was short with you. The least he could do is apologize and send a rib inside.
Erik’s eyes burned your skin when you walked past him in your backyard, stepping on your tippy toes to reach for something near the window. He kissed his lips silently but didn’t say anything.
When you gave up and went back inside you weren’t expecting him to put the speaker down for you.
Silently, of course. Stubborn as always.
Your curls could be tighter and you wanted your makeup to last, already knowing that this night would end up with you being drunk under your own roof.
You waited for your curlers to warm as you refreshed your makeup. Pressing powder under your eyes, adding white into your waterline, something that drove that man downstairs crazy.
You lined your lips with your favorite brown lip liner and paired it perfectly with a baby pink gloss. The combo that fueled your confidence. It was also the reason that you were on birth control.
You curled your hair quietly, thinking about how long you two planned this event and sighed.
Erik’s footsteps were louder to your ears than usual. Almost like he was announcing himself before entering your shared bedroom. He found you in the bathroom and just starred. He walked past you, grabbed something from his side of the vanity, but at the last second, almost like he was considering not to, he slapped your ass and walked away.
“Change.”
You jolted forward, bracing yourself on the sink and shook your head. Visually taken back. Change? Right before people started to show up? You considered both sides of the night and muffled a frustrated scream.
Your titties did try to peak through the fabric and the stinging of your ass served as a subtle reminder.
You decided on white shorts with a simple white top. Still you, still matching Erik, and genuinely more comfortable. You hated when he was right.
When you reentered the kitchen you noticed the rib steaming from its place on the counter. An ode from Erik that he was still yours. Still there even when he was upset.
He didn’t look up, but you knew he was waiting for you to crack first.
As guests begin to arrive, you and Erik’s feud was put aside. You hugged all your friends, complimenting their outfits. It was so nice to see everyone and even better to be with each other rather than being at some longue with others.
One of your besties, Lara, softly glanced in Erik’s direction. She turned back to you. “After all these years he’s still obsessed with you.” She laughed, hitting you softly.
A few others laughed too. You looked over your shoulder to see what they were looking at. Your man was holding a conversation with someone’s husband, but his eyes were closed on you.
You shook your head. “Girl enough about me. How’s the new job treating you?”
The small talk continued and the drinks were poured. Everyone groaned over Erik’s food which he greedily accepted.
He sat next to you on your outdoor furniture once everyone started to mingle in one area.
“Man what you put on these ribs?” Rick, Janet’s husband, asked while practically licking his fingers.
“A little bit of everything. Then wifey taste tests for me.” He answered his eyes now focused on your lips.
Your lids fluttered under his gaze so you decided to look elsewhere.
Conversations started to spiral over to different subjects but all you could feel was the tension radiating between you and Erik. You refilled your drink to give you something to do.
You hadn’t heard the exchange between Erik and Rick once you walked away.
“You good?” Rick asked Erik, watching his gaze not leave your body.
“Yeah.” Erik sucked his teeth. You were on your third drink which means you were very close to being too drunk. Erik knew this but you weren’t speaking to him.
“Just be careful. Last time I intervened Janet’s good time we ended up having RJ.” He admitted.
Erik shook his head. “That’s exactly what’s about to happen.” He grumbled half heartedly.
You spoke around Erik all night. Never addressing him directly. “Erik did our lawn so well,” and “Oh yeah my husband bought those for me,” and his favorite “I just show him which color I want and my man makes it happen.” In reference to the newly built deck.
Erik’s hand on your thigh looked normal but you knew it was strategically placed there as a warning.
“How long do you think this can last sweetheart?” He whispered lowly.
When you didn’t respond he just nodded, rubbing small circles on your thighs. He downed the rest of drink before moving. You could hear your own heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest.
“Baby can you get the other cord?” he asked, just for insurance if anyone was paying attention to you.
You nodded, practically running into the side door to enter your home. Erik took his time walking behind you. He enjoyed making you squirm.
You’d barely touched the cord on the counter when Erik’s shadow filled behind you. He didn’t speak right away. He just stood there, watching you fuss with nothing.
Finally, his voice cut through the quiet. “You think I don’t notice?”
Your eyes flicked up, wary. “Notice what?”
He moved closer, slow and deliberate, until your back brushed the counter. His jaw was tight, but his voice was steady.
“You braggin on me, fixing my plate, making it look real sweet for everybody else.” His hand found your hip, squeezing just enough to make you swallow. “But you won’t even look at me when you do it.”
You opened your mouth, then shut it, pressing your lips together.
“I don’t need an audience to know I’m your man.” He leaned down, nose skimming your cheek. “I need you to stop acting like I don’t exist.”
The words hit heavier than his grip. Because he was right — you’d done everything tonight except give him the one thing he wanted most: your voice, your softness, your attention.
“Erik—” you started, but the warning in his eyes stopped you cold.
“Don’t ‘Erik’ me now.” His thumb slid along the curve of your jaw, tilting your face to his. “You’ve been talking around me all day. That stops now.”
“Been watching you all night,” he muttered against your skin.
Before you could answer, his hand slid between your thighs, pushing your shorts aside like they were nothing. Two fingers stroked you slow at first, testing, before entering.
Your gasp was sharp, your hands scrambling for his shoulders.
“Say my name,” he demanded, curling his fingers until your body jolted.
“Erik,” you whimpered, finally giving him what he’d been starving for.
“That’s right.” His lips brushed your jaw, his pace quickening until the wet sounds of his fingers filled the room. “Don’t care if the whole damn neighborhood hear you right now. You don’t ignore me.”
Your moans spilled out in broken pieces, your body trembling against him as his thumb pressed against your clit. You broke fast, quicker than you were ready for, and you came undone on his hand, shuddering against his chest.
Erik didn’t let up until you were sagging against him. Only then did he pull his fingers from you, bringing them to his lips to taste before pressing a slow, possessive kiss against your mouth.
“You hear me now?” voice steady despite the storm he’d just pulled out of you.
You nodded weakly, still catching your breath, and he chuckled. All you heard was satisfied but not finished.
“Good,” he said, setting you gently back on your feet, smoothing your shorts like nothing happened. “Because when they leave..” he left it up to you to imagine.
“Go on and fix that pretty face,” he said softly, thumbing a smudge of gloss from your chin. “Don’t want our guests knowing you’re already out of it.”
Your chest was still heaving when he set you back on your feet. Your legs nearly buckled, and his smirk deepened when you grabbed the counter for balance.
“I’ll head out first,” he added, adjusting his shirt like nothing happened. “Give you a minute to pull yourself together.”
And just like that, he left — casual, unbothered, slipping back through the door with the smell of smoke and ribs following him. You caught a glimpse of him outside, laughing with Rick like he hadn’t just had you gasping on the kitchen counter.
When you finally reappeared, fresh gloss and powder disguising the wreckage on your face, his eyes found you immediately. He didn’t call attention to it, didn’t say a word, but the smile tugging at his lips told you he knew.
The rest of the evening was torture.
His hand on your thigh, his thumb stroking in circles that no one else noticed. The way he leaned close when you refilled your glass, his lips brushing your ear: “Careful, babygirl.”
The glance he gave you when someone complimented your deck again — a look that said, Tell them how you thank me.
Every laugh, every nod to your friends, every bite of food he ate — all of it was normal. But every time his eyes cut to you, you felt the heat of what happened in that kitchen. And the weight of what was coming after everyone left.
When the last pair of tail lights disappeared down the street, and the house fell quiet you were nearly shaking. You leaned against the door for a second, exhaling, trying to will your heartbeat back to normal.
But Erik was already behind you.
“Don’t get comfortable.” His voice was deep, steady, making your skin prickle. “You thought fixing your lip gloss and sitting pretty was gonna get you out of what’s coming?”
You turned, but his hand was already on your throat tight, it made you tilt your head back and force your eyes to his.
“All night I smiled for them,” he said, jaw hard, his thumb stroking the soft spot beneath your chin. “Fed them, laughed with them, played the part. Meanwhile, you…” He smirked, though his eyes were sharp. “You out here testing me.”
“Erik—”
Your voice cracked, and that was all it took for his expression to soften just enough. He leaned down, kissing you slow, swallowing your protest before it could form.
Then his hand dropped from your throat to your waist, and suddenly you were airborne, tossed over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.
“You had no problem keeping quiet earlier,” he cut in, his hand landing sharp on your ass, making you yelp. “Keep that same energy now.”
By the time he dropped you onto the bed, your cheeks were hot and your eyes stung, though you couldn’t tell if it was from frustration or the fire building in your chest.
Erik stood over you, peeling off his shirt slow, deliberate. The sight stole what little defiance you had left.
“You think you teaching me something,” he said, climbing onto the bed, caging you in with his arms. His lips brushed your temple, deceptively tender. “But I promise you, baby… I’m doing teaching around here.”
And then his mouth was on you again while his hand pushed your shorts down with one smooth tug. He moved quick. No more foreplay, no more monologues. He’s been holding back all day and you needed to feel that.
He slid inside you with a groan, deep and unyielding, forcing your back to arch and your breath to catch in a sob.
“Yeah,” he taunted against your ear, his thrusts slow but punishing. “That’s mine. Every cry, every tear, every breath. Mine.”
Your vision blurred, your body breaking under the weight of him — his pace, his words, the way he never let your eyes slip from his. Tears slipped free, hot down your temples, and Erik kissed them away without losing rhythm.
“Go ahead, let it out,” he coddled, pinning your wrists above your head. “You don’t get to ignore me. You don’t get to pretend I’m not the center of your world. Not when I can make you come apart like this.”
Every thrust drove the truth deeper — into your body, into your bones — until the tension finally shattered and you sobbed his name, breaking against him completely.
Erik didn’t let up until he followed you over the edge, spilling into you with a groan that rattled your chest. He collapsed against you, heavy and warm, his breath ragged against your throat.
When the silence settled, his lips brushed your damp cheek again, softer this time.
“You should’ve known,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss against your mouth. “I keep promises.”
