#this is like. pre-murderer or when he’s just tryna blend in

[bluuscreen]

redesigned an old creepypasta oc of mine. plus some doodles because i thought it’d be funny to ship him with jeff the killer [my personal headcanon version]

[brattywriters-anonymous]

House Party

Erik x OC story

Erik "Killmonger" Stevens meets his potential partner during a job..

Warnings: Drug use, Violence.

"Target name, Andrew Anderson. Age, twenty-eight. Firefighter for the city of Atlanta. FAMU graduate. Contract: Open. Compensation: Three million." Erik scaled back, "Three million? The fuck did he do? Kidnap Sasha Obama?" Erik's associate, Inga, laughed, "He plans on testifying against the contract holder for the murder of his sister, Aundra Anderson." "Okay. Okay. Any more info?" "Well, we got intelligence that Andrew is going to a house party tonight. 107 Randolph Avenue Northeast."

Erik steps out onto the brisk streets of Atlanta on this December evening, he quickly decides to throw on his leather jacket completing his all black attire with his gold embellishments that he always accompanies with every outfit. His gold necklace that he found after his father passed away with his ring surrounding it, his gold framed glasses, and his gold canine caps on the bottom row of his pearly white smile. He decides against wearing his hair up, thanking himself because it is cold as a snowman's balls outside! He's glad to have something draping over his face and neck! He hops in his McLaren 600 LT, which matched his ensemble as well, and follows the directions that were already pre programmed into his GPS, thanks to Inga and her tech-y skills.  He reaches his destination and can't find a parking space near the location so he settles for a space at the end of the corner. He approaches the house with his signature dip and all feminine eyes are on him. He feels heat radiating from the stares and his turns his head slightly, grinning at the attention. "You're supposed to be low key, Agent E." He hears Inga in his communicator. "Agent I, I can't help it! I'm attractive n shit!" He mumbles then he stops dead in his tracks in the Foyer. At two things, "In---Agent I, How did you know I--" "Because, I snuck some cameras around and in the house earlier. There was no one home, so it was easy!" Erik sucks his teeth and shakes his head. Second thing that stopped his movement was a woman. Not too many women catches Erik's eye in this manner. But this woman wasn't many women.

She is dressed in black, much like him. Black bralette, with a off the shoulder black denim jacket. Her dreads are up in a bun, he scales down to her legs where he sees black jeans and her long black leather thigh high boots. 'Damn, she's so small. I'd break her lil ass in half.' Erik thinks to himself, biting his lip. His inner thought came to a crashing halt when Inga's Jamaican accent paraded in his right ear, "NO DISTRACTIONS, IDIOT!" Inga kisses her teeth loudly so he could hear. He jumps up, "Alright! Damn! Since you got surveillance, do you see this nigga?" Inga starts typing in her computer, "No. He's not here yet. Blend in. I'll give you the signal when he does." Erik quickly turns his mic off via phone and struts over to the kitchen where this mystery woman was standing.

"What's your poison tonight, cutie?" He quickly examines the bottles spread out by the bar, "Hennessy? Jack? Bombay?" She rolls her eyes at him, "I'm not drinking." "Oh, so you just at a house party to look stiff and chaperone?" She leans on the counter, "Yeah. That's exactly what I came here to do, genius." Erik scoffs at her sarcasm, "You sure you don't want a drink" He sizes her up, "Looks like you could use one." She changes her mind, "Jack and Coke." He nods, "Ahh..So you a whiskey girl? I like that." He pours both in the cup evenly and hands her his finished product. "You need anything else?" He steps closer to her, trailing his index finger down her shoulder, over her bralette strap. She stepped back, "Nigga, you don't even know my name. I'm good--" She side eyes him waiting for his introduction, "Oh, I'm E." She squints her eyes at him, "Oh. Well, when you ready to tell me your name and not a letter, you let me know." And like that, the mystery woman disappears into the crowd. He threw back his Hennessy shot and went to the back yard. 

--

He got halfway through his ‘pre-body blunt’ as he likes to call it when he hears her light voice again, "Ugh, you smoke too?" He turns back to the door and see's her 5'2" frame, before he could respond to her smart Alec, she pulls out a fat pre rolled backwood. He blinks at her a couple times in disbelief, "Maybe we have more in common than you think, cutie." She winces, "If you wanna know my name, just ask. I'm not gonna let you call me cutie a third time." He laughs at her attentiveness, "Alright, I'll bite. What's your name cu--" She places her index finger on his lips, she's about to jump back at how soft they felt against her.. but then he pulls her up closer to him by her belt loop. "Mirah. MiMi for short. You see how I did that? I gave you my name then my nickname. So what's yours, E?" "Erik." He takes another drag of his blunt, blowing the smoke to the side. She lets out a, "Hmm." with her backwood in her mouth, lighting it. "Well, nice to meet you Erik." They spent the rest of their smoke session in a comforting silence, only signaling to each other to pass their blunts back and forth. Erik was getting into his Killmonger mode, and it just seemed like Mirah was in her own world. "He's there. In the kitchen!" He jumps up, hearing Inga's voice again. He almost forgot about the mission.  "You good?" Mirah looks at him, then looks back out by the yard. "Yeah, I gotta go to the restroom. You sticking around here?" He takes a hold of her hand, She nods. "Yeah, I'll be here." He starts walking back toward the door, finally breaking their bonded hands.

--

He walks out of the bathroom and his eyes immediately turns to the kitchen. He doesn't see Andrew, he turns his mic back on and mumbles, "Agent I, what's the location of the target?" "Uhhh..He is..going up the stairs, on your right!" He moves his eyes frantically looking for his target. He sees his target holding hands with a woman leading the way up the stairs. "Got it. I'm going up." Erik waits a few seconds, and inconspicuously makes his way upstairs. He reached in his waistband for his Rugar as he hears his associate, "He went in the second room on the left." Erik disconnects his communicator, reaches in his back pocket for a silencer, screws it on his barrel and quietly turns the doorknob. He hears voices, "So what you tryna do?" "You know what I'm tryna do." He opens the door wider to see his target laid out on the bed and Mirah, dropping her denim jacket with a pocket knife behind her back. He kicks the door the rest of the way open, aiming the gun at his head. They both jump up in shock. "Er--" Mirah stops in the middle of stating his full name, "E?" Erik raises his brow at her, "Mi..MiMi?" He follows suit, hella confused. Andrew gets up with both hands up, "Look man, if this is your girl, I didn't know. I don't want anything to do with--" "Shut up!" They both say in unison. He sits back down. Erik points his head behind her back, "What you doing here?" She mouths to him, "The contract is open." His eyes bulge at the revelation, She's there for the same reason he is. As she straddles Andrew and pulls the knife from behind her, Erik clicks the safety off of his weapon. They simultaneously go for the kill. Mirah stabs him in his aorta quickly twisting and pulling the knife out. Erik shoots him in between his eyes. Andrew's lifeless body slumps over.

-- 

Mirah’s name is pronounced (MY-RAH)

MiMi (Obviously, MEE-MEE)