#au erik stevens

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"Ice Cold Jax" Geechee!Erik Killmonger

Pairing: Geechee!Erik Killmonger x Black Female OC

Warning(s): 18+, Smut, Supernatural Horror, Period Piece, Erik Stevens AU, Black American Folktale.

Summary: Erik "Killmonger" Stevens is a Geechee wanderer and lover of big-legged women and good moonshine. On a trip to visit his favorite juke joint in 1940s Mississippi, he entertains a lover of sorts, Lulabelle, the juke joint owner and Madame of the nearby whorehouse. Erik battles two mythical creatures from Black American folklore, the Plat Eye and the Crossroads Man in order to save Lulabelle and her establishment. The tale is told from the perspective of a ghost who was once Lulabelle's best friend.

Word count: 5.5K

"The winter time is coming

And it's going to be slow

You can't make the weather baby

it's dry long so

You betta come on in my kitchen

because it's going to be Raining outdoors..."

Cassandra Wilson – "Come on in my Kitchen" (Written by Robert Johnson)

There were two things Lulabelle Humphreys knew how to sell in Itta Bena Mississippi and that was moonshine and other people's pussy.

She did that very well until one night of the Harvest moon when cotton would soon be harvested by the local sharecroppers and itinerant Mexican men who traveled through the delta region looking for work like every other Negro or poor white trash far and wide. On that night under a sweltering heat full of drunk patrons and her smooth-talking whores inside her juke joint with the "special ladies" house attached by a rickety bridge that crossed over a tiny creek full of frogs and singing crickets, Lulabelle witnessed the showdown of all showdowns between the Plat Eye and the Crossroads Man, shonuff, right inside her little rambling hot music-havin' and ice-cold beer havin' establishment.

And if it hadn't been for that slow walking city-to-city wandering Geechee man with the gold teeth, slick smile, and flashy suit standing by her with the smarts of his low country kin back in South Carolina, why Lulabelle might've lost everything that night like she lost me so many years ago when that Plat Eye stole me away when we was teenaged girls in these backwoods. But thank the Lord up above for Erik Stevens ramblin' through with that shiny switchblade, and his Gullah ways, cuz shonuff, that was a night to remember and I'm gonna tell it exactly how it happened from top to bottom and all the sides in between. I ain't been dead long enough or forgotten long enough to not tell it all...

"Mavis, how much lavender water is left in there?"

Lulabelle shouted into the open door that led to one of the "loving" rooms inside her special house.

"There's one bottle left," Ruth called out.

The young woman was nothing but string bean arms and toothpick legs, however, she was a favorite among the darker-skinned Black sharecroppers who admired her fair skin and limp shiny black hair. Even the high yella gals envied what Ruth could pull in because the men were willing to part with more money to fuck what was as close to a white woman as they would get.

Lulabelle knew clearly what a fetish was, so she used Ruth for the high income, but she also had Mavis, a crystal Black pearl with a dark hue so deep that negro soldiers from the military base lined up for hours waiting to part her dusky thighs to taste the sticky sweets within. There was someone for everybody at the house. Big women. Little scrawny women. Big Bodacious titties and itty-bitty mosquito bites. For the richly endowed there was Starla with a pussy so fat and deep that blues ballads were written for her. For the poorly imbued, there was Tweety Pie, a tiny woman with a small tight snatch that rivaled Starla in particular-sized fans.

For the men who didn't fawn over the womenfolk, there was Honey Boy, a twenty-something pretty little thing with bow lips, high cheekbones, and a fat ass that posed as a houseboy who brought fresh after-sex towels, water for the whore baths, and rubbers for the men who forgot to prepare for penetration. Honey Boy could dress like a pretty woman and serve clients fat wood if that was to a patron's liking. Lulabelle was surprised at how popular he was becoming on the low low, especially from the men in the military. Men with men had always been a reality, but Honey Boy was multidimensional. He could turn into a Butch boy from a chain gang, to a bullying Army sergeant to dominate and spread male ass cheeks that needed fat balls against balls. Or he could be a dainty femme movie star in a bra and heels with his hard dick swinging. Lulabelle kept a ready supply of costumes for him, more than the women. All the ladies needed were pretty underwear, strong garter belts, and lipstick. She kept quiet that she paid Honey Boy more than anyone else.

The second world war was putting money in her pockets. 1942 was a profitable war year for Lulabelle. Her pocketbook was fat with cash, and she could now afford real jewelry instead of the cheap costume fare she sported the last three years. She could even maintain a steady hot comb appointment at Mamie's Wash and Curl uptown. Her latest favorite style was imitating Joan Crawford's immaculate curls that she saw in the talkies at the Bijou theater. When she really wanted to look glamorous, she would have Mamie swoop up her thick hair on top of her head with a pinned curl on the front and an under curl in the back. The rich white women she saw in the new color catalogues wore their hair like that.

She wore her hair like that for that evening. It was a special night. The Harvest Moon was going up, and the men would be arriving in droves to drink, dance, and fuck.

He was coming too.

The Gullah man. That sly Geechie with the gold teeth.

Erik Stevens.

His arrival always coincided with some new moon every few months. She'd dress up extra special when she thought he was coming through. Her pussy was already twitching thinking about him.

"I'll have Honey Boy get you a fresh bottle," Lulabelle said patting the back of her hair.

It was hot already, and she worried that her hair wouldn't maintain until Erik saw it. Ruth stepped out of the room. The yellow silk camisole Lulabelle bought for her came to her thighs and had enough lace in the front to cover the baby bulge that was threatening to peek out. The girl got knocked up and none of the home remedies the cook Eva concocted worked in knocking the unwanted pregnancy out. Ruth could probably hide the truth for another month or so, but eventually she would have to go on convalescence and Lulabelle would have to rely on the other women to please the Ruth fans until the woman returned or left for a new life in the North. Until then, Ruth was about making her money and camouflaging the bump.

"Can you tell?" she asked.

Lulabelle squinted.

"These men will be too drunk to notice. Keep the garment on and don't worry about it."

Lulabelle checked in on the other ladies and all was well. Seven rooms, seven whores, seven sources of revenue on top of the juke joint next door. She peeked in on one of the mirrors inside a room and felt satisfied. Her beige dress hugged the curves of her big wide hips and large backside. Her heels made her short body have a little height. She needed a little more powder for her round nose, and the grease pencil she used for her eyes held the dark wings she gave herself.

"Eat your heart out, Joan," she muttered to herself.

She crossed the little wooden bridge that led to the juke joint making sure her crème bow top summer pumps didn't get dirty. Her name was painted in fading blue letters above the entrance. By Christmas she hoped to get a fancy electric sign that sparkled "Lula's". Honey Boy swept the porch entry and she could smell the grease being heated on the kitchen stove inside by Eva. There'd be fried chicken, black-eyed peas, collards with ham hocks, and plenty of buttermilk cornbread to sell with the ice cold Jax beer and corn liquor.

Her eyes scanned the lowering sun over the canopy of Tupelo trees. A loud shriek startled her and made Honey Boy stop sweeping.

"What was that?" Honey Boy asked.

His pressed hair was slicked back, and his copper brown skin was moist with sweat from the oppressive heat.

Lulabelle clutched at her chest. The sound came from deep in the woods. The darkness there shrouded any mysteries that lived within it.

"Sounded like something caught," she said.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose.

A memory.

Being a young teen girl with...

No. Don't think of her. That was the past.

Lulabelle pushed down on the terror in her throat and hid her shaking fingers in front of her dress.

"Probably some unlucky racoon ran across Old Man Rickers trap," she said.

"Yeah, you prolly right, Lulabelle. The man been hunting out there this week."

She heard the doubt in his tremulous voice. The lie hung in the air like dark sap on a dying tree between them.

"That sounded like death is on his way," Eva said.

The older plump woman opened the screen door of the juke joint while wiping down a plate.

"Don't say that, Eva. It's just an old coon, or a slow wild pig—"

The shriek pierced the air again.

"Lord have mercy," Eva said.

The older woman cradled the cheap gold-plated crucifix around her neck.

Rifle shots sounded in the distance and Lulabelle jumped, then smiled.

"See? Just some hunters putting some fresh meat down. Let's get ready for tonight, y'all."

Not one of them moved from the porch until Archie started tinkling on the piano keys inside the juke.

Pussy poppin' in the whorehouse, music jumping, bodies swaying, lips sucking down moonshine and dark beer, Lula's juke shook on its foundations. Dollar bills came in hand over fist as Lulabelle strolled around the property checking in with customers and hustling Eva to fry up more chicken plates. She rounded the corner of the makeshift stage shaking her hips to the hot sounds when her eyes slid to the entrance and saw Geechie Erik swagger in. Double-breasted gray suit with shiny silver buttons and matching cufflinks. Steel-blue silk tie, and black and gray woven Oxford shoes had the Geechie man draped. Lulabelle already knew he smelled like a million bucks even though she was standing nowhere near him. Erik took off his black fedora hat. He had kicked up the waves on his close-cropped hair, and his lightly bearded cheeks gave him a pronounced sophistication compared to all the clean-shaven military men taking up most of the space in the joint.

His eyes scanned the wide room and when they fell on her, her heart sang a minuet in his honor just to see those dimples in his cheeks. He strode toward her with long confident strides and when he circled his arm around her waist, she shivered at his touch.

"Lulabelle, Lulabelle. You get prettier every time I see you."

He gave her a wet sloppy kiss on her cheek, and she swooned. His scent was expensive leather, imported cologne, and Murray's hair pomade.

"Lemme get you a drink, Daddy," she purred.

"No, let me get you a drink. Stay right here."

He sauntered over to the big counter and within minutes he brought her back a small glass of whiskey to match his own. They toasted, tossed the liquor back, and he led her to an open table in the low-lit corner as bodies pressed together dancing around them. His thick lips were on her neck before she could gaze into his eyes, and his thicker fingers were already under her dress creeping over a seamed stocking, her garter belt, and the bottom of her girdlette. He inched closer to her core.

"Goodness gracious, you already hot down here," he whispered in her ear.

His finger swiped across Lulabelle's panties bringing her clit to life.

"Oh... there it is... my jewel," he crooned before he slid the garment aside and fingered her slit.

Erik had her sopping wet by the time the band switched tunes. Two of his warm fingers pumped in and out of her pussy, making her pant and writhe on her seat next to him.

"You gon' sweat my hair out already!" she yelped reaching for the back of her neck.

Erik flipped his digits over palm-side up and finger fucked her until a puddle of creamy juices flowed out onto her chair. Once her legs shook and she squirmed uncontrollably, he bolted up from his seat and grabbed her hand. His dick jutted out from his pants and he dragged through the side door that led to the wooden bridge and the loving house.

"Get the fuck out," he told a patron having his dick sucked in the first room they came to.

Tweety Pie was on her knees, her bright red lips puckered around a small light brown penis. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Erik and the rigid length straining against his zipper.

Erik whipped out his switchblade and flicked it open.

"Out!" he barked.

Tweety Pie scrambled from her knees and pulled her customer by his hand with his trousers dragging around his ankles to another room. Erik slammed the door shut on the gawking eyes of the other whores and pushed Lulabelle against a mahogany cabinet that held lingerie.

"Turn around."

The snarl in his voice made her spin and toot her big ass out toward him. He dragged the cool blade up against the bottom of her stockings until it dipped just under the hem of her dress. He yanked her dress up around her chest and the sharp blade skimmed across her black satin-covered ass cheek. With just a little more pressure he could break the skin on her fat rump through the material and make her bleed. Erik jerked the blade and sliced her panties off. She gasped and clutched at the smooth wood of the cabinet for balance. She heard his zipper peel down slowly and felt his hands fumble for a rubber.

"You miss Daddy?"

"Yes!"

He parted her folds before she could catch her breath. The fullness stretching her out made her shout his name and grit her teeth. Pumping into her slowly at first, he teased the hell out of her by pushing in deep, then pulling all the way out so that her pussy lips throbbed needing his dick back inside of her.

"I missed this pussy... so much... taking me so deep!"

His switchblade rested on the middle of her naked spine and tickled her skin purposely.

"Take this dress off!"

He helped her wiggle her arms out of it before unfastening her bra with his hands. Cradling her heavy breasts, he made her cheeks clap as his weapon clattered to the floor. His full concentration was on pleasing her body. Rough wide palms spread her ass cheeks wide as he grunted and pushed down on his thighs to hunch over her.

"Lula, shit... Lula..."

Erik gripped her hips and slammed into her before pulling out and lifting her up. He tossed Lula on the soft lumpy bed, undressed, and plunged back into her. The gold in his mouth glinted above her as he thrust harder and faster knocking the breath out of her body.

Her garter belts bunched up then stretched with her girdlette when he pushed her thighs back.

"Big legged girl... mmmm," he groaned.

He shoved his head down to her folds and sucked on her lower lips before spitting on them and sinking his girth back inside her walls.

"Daddy hittin' that bottom yet?"

"You in there... real deep, Daddy."

"Lemme get deeper..."

Her ankles met her earlobes and the heavy pressure from his dick made her cock-eyed a spilling gibberish from her mouth.

"Oh, Jesus!" she yelped when his fists rested on her sides and he bucked into her, slapping his balls against her ass.

Before he could press his mouth into her swollen pussy again to glisten his face, she clenched up around his dick and squeezed it with rhythmic pulses she had no control over.

"That's a good girl... let that pussy talk to Daddy's dick, Lula."

His eyes watched her contractions yank on his length, and when he finished talking her through her release with high praises and slow wet kisses, he pulled off the rubber and stroked himself against her clit. The silky curls of her pubic hairs were wet with her creamy orgasm and became even wetter when Erik splashed hot cum all over her vulva. His shouts of pleasure filled her with quiet confidence.

"That's it Daddy, cum all over your fat pussy."

He hissed when she said that, and his heated glare encouraged more of his release. A thick rope of semen painted her stomach, and he collapsed on top of her with hard ragged gasps.

"God, I wish I could be in this pussy every day, Lula."

"You could," she said stroking the waves on his hair.

He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling with her.

"Not with the work I do. I try my best to get here when I can. But shit, baby. If I didn't get this pussy for free, I would pay a fortune for it."

She rolled on her side to look at him, happy that he thought of her like that. His eyes were still on the ceiling, but there was a frown on his face.

"She's in the room, y'know. Up there hiding in the corner."

"Don't say that, Erik. You know it scares me."

"If you did what I told you to do, she'd go away."

"As long as she don't start no foolishness around here, I can live with a ghost."

"Can you? Then how come you're scared?"

"She was my friend. I know she blames me for getting away and not her."

"A good coating of haint blue all around the doors would keep her out..."

"I can't. I can't do that to her. If she's just lingering as a ghost, it makes me feel like she can live a little."

"If you say so."

"Let's not talk about her."

His eyes were still focused on the ceiling, looking at Elizabeth, her childhood friend from so long ago. She couldn't see the dead teenager at all.

"She mad?" Lulabelle asked.

"She loves you. It's why she stays around... floating from room to room... following you."

Lulabelle pulled his chin toward her.

"Don't look. Please."

Erik slipped his tongue in her mouth. A knock at the door interrupted them.

"Lulabelle, sorry to disturb you and your Mister, but I need this room," Tweety Pie squeaked out.

"Give me a minute."

Lulabelle peeled the rubber from Erik's dick and tossed it inside some tissue and chucked it out of the window into a well-placed bucket outside.

"You ruined my panties," she scolded as she jumped up to rinse her privates and stomach in lavender water at a large basin sitting on a maple console table.

She dried her folds and fixed her bra back around her breasts.

"Don't need 'em, I'll be back inside of you soon enough," he said.

Pulling her dress back on, Lulabelle tried to fix her hair and make-up in a mirror.

"You look fine," he said zipping his pants.

Erik picked up his switchblade and opened the door.

Tweety Pie had a new man with her, a handsome young soldier with lust in his eyes.

"Pardon us," Erik said as he guided Lulabelle back to the juke joint.

Lulabelle sat on Erik's lap as he joked with some patrons and slammed back shots of moonshine. She fed him cornbread and pieces of chicken bites with her fingers, and occasionally she would bounce on his hardness that rested against her backside. He tortured her clit with occasional strokes under her dress, but he wouldn't let her cum. That would happen later when he was ready to plunder her pussy once more. Tradition held that he would fuck her at least four more times before he disappeared until the next new moon in the future. She sat on that hard meat all hot and bothered knowing he was going to be cruel by plucking at her bud and sticking his tongue in her ear all night. She watched him dance with a few women and flirt while she checked on her women out back and collected her money, stuffing it in her bra.

Erik was a little too handsy with a couple of fancy ladies and she had to check him. He'd become contentious then, argued with her until she argued him down threatening to cut his balls off if he cheated on her. If she pushed him, just a little too hard, his neck would move in a hostile way that put her in her place and made her drip down her thighs. He liked her mouthy and jealous, but not too jealous if he caught her rubbing her ass against some other patron to provoke him. He'd spank her hard and tell her about herself until she stopped being bratty and soothed his ego. That was his way every time he came to the juke. Arrogant. Loud. Threatening other men who got too close to her, then all seductive when he needed her loving once more.

When no one was looking, Erik unzipped his pants, pulled out his dick and slid her on top of it raw at their private table. Her dress covered the action, and he lifted her up and down.

"You bet not cum," he ordered with harsh breath.

"I won't, I promise," she insisted with clenched teeth.

She was snug on his dick, and the friction was too much to bear. She clutched onto his knees and leaned forward, dropping her weight on his thighs. The rhythm was perfect until a slender man as tall as a Tupelo crept over to their table and sat down. He didn't seem concerned that he was witnessing a woman getting fucked within an inch of her life in the midst of her own rowdy and lascivious establishment.

The man's face was long, and he had long teeth... and long fingers... and long legs... and a long tongue that lolled around in his mouth. He had skin the color of a soft sunset and one big eye in the center of his face. The music and dancing slowed all around her, and all she could see and hear was the long man with his long deep breaths.

"Lulabelle... Lulabelle..." the slender man said, and the voice that spoke her namesake was not pleasant and inviting like Erik's. It was sinister. Conniving. Filthy to her ears.

Erik thrust up into her walls, and she gasped. The slender man smiled with his long teeth, and his one big black eye blinked and Lulabelle fell forward and down into a vortex of hideous darkness until she landed on soft grass in front of the crossroads that led into the dark woods near her juke joint.

"Lulabelle, hurry up! If we don't go now, we'll chicken out!"

Elizabeth ran ahead of her. Dear sweet Elizabeth, eighteen and glowing with a gorgeous figure and good hair, and the good sense to know that Itta Bena was to be left behind. They were going to New York to become showgirls in Harlem, leaving all that country backwoods shit living behind. No sharecropping or cleaning after white folks for them. They were young. Beautiful. Full of life and ready to see the world. That meant crossing through the woods at the old dusty crossroad just as the sun was setting. The last train outta town was due in an hour. Going through the woods was the fastest route to a new life.

But then the slender man came. The Plat Eye. The Haint that haunted the trees and lingered in the darkness deep inside the woods.

Lulabelle, full of eighteen-year-old spunk, dropped her heavy suitcase and pulled Elizabeth back with a hard tug on her arm.

"Dontcha see him, girl?" Lulabelle shouted.

"Oh, he's just another traveler headed outta here too, pick up your suitcase-"

"It's the Plat Eye. You don't see its face. The one eye? The long teeth?"

"You so silly girl! Look at him... just a man tryna run like us."

"No!"

Elizabeth dropped her suitcase and stood with arms all akimbo.

"If you don't wanna go, then say that, Lulabelle."

"You don't see that monster right there?!" she shrieked, and it startled Elizabeth.

The Plat Eye smirked.

"Fine, stay here then you big baby. Hey, Mister, wait up!"

"Elizabeth!"

An arm grabbed Lulabelle's elbow stopping her from running after her friend.

"Don't move, gal."

The voice didn't have Mississippi in it. It was low country and slower than cold molasses. South Carolina lived in it.

"She done made her choice and if you move one inch, I can't protect you."

Lulabelle didn't turn to look at the stranger. His words were wise, and she did as she was told.

"Elizabeth! Come back!"

"It's too late, Lulabelle."

"How you know my name?"

"I've seen you 'round here before with your friend."

She tried to turn around, but firm hands held her shoulders in place.

"Don't hurt me, Mister."

"Nah, I wouldn't do nothin' like that."

The Plat Eye grew taller almost reaching the height of the nearest tree.

"She can't see what it is?"

"She see what she wanna see."

The thing that was as tall as a Tupelo bent down and opened its tall mouth and Elizabeth stepped into the dark maw...

Lulabelle gasped and her thighs sensed the strong muscles of Erik's legs holding her up once more. He fucked her still, hitting her walls harder. His hands gripped her breasts as he grunted and rolled her nipples with agile fingers. The slender man of her past smiled, his greasy lips splitting wide as he was long. That single eye a tainted monstrosity to behold on its face.

The juke joint partied on, and men filed out through the side door to pay their money for an extra good time with her girls. The Plat Eye reached out for Lulabelle's arm and Erik slammed his switchblade down on the table.

"Nah, haint. This one here belongs to me."

The Plat Eye blinked that Cyclops eye in shock and its mouth fell open.

"Should've known you'd be around here," The Plat Eye grumbled sitting back in his chair.

A clammy wetness dampened Lulabelle's neck. Memory boomeranged back into her chest. The low country voice. The strong hands that held her waist so that he could rut into her pussy.

Lulabelle turned her head and the glint from Erik's gold teeth became a glowing source of ethereal light. The full lips and bright white teeth still looked human but the reverb of hidden power sat under the guttural rasp of his voice.

The man from the Crossroads.

The one who stopped her from entering the throat of the Plat Eye and turning into a floating haint that lived in the ceiling like Elizabeth.

The Geechee Man.

"Ya don't play fair," The Plat Eye grumbled again.

"And?" Erik said.

Erik's firm hands skated up her sides and rested on her shoulders. Lulabelle's pussy squelched on his dick all rude and loud. Plat Eye licked his fleshy lips.

"This here the one I wanted. Not that other one—"

Lulabelle snatched up Erik's switchblade and jumped up from his lap. Her pussy throbbed from being removed from his erection. She held the open switchblade against his throat. Why couldn't anyone else in her juke joint see or hear what was happening?

She knew the stories. All kinds of frightening things could be met at a crossroads. And if the Crossroads Man himself showed up—

"Put that down, Lula. It's not a toy to be played with," Erik said zipping up his pants.

The Plat Eye leaned forward and shot his arm out to grab her, but Erik was quicker. He snatched the switchblade back faster from her grip than she could blink, and he slashed the creature's arm. Black festering ooze seeped from the wound and sizzled as it splashed on the table burning holes through the wood.

"Give her to me," the Plat Eye demanded.

Erik stood up and straightened his tie.

"Nigga you ain't getting shit but an ass kicking if you keep playing with me. I told you already. This one is mine. Get on about yourself before I send you on your way to a very bad place."

"There are rules!"

The Plat Eye leapt to his feet and towered over Erik. Not by much though.

"I make the rules," Erik said.

An arrogant chuckle tumbled out of the Plat Eye's mouth. He gripped the lapels of his suit and blinked that one beastly eye. His open wound continued to drip ruining her good table.

"My man," The Plat Eye said and held up his long fingers to placate Erik.

The creature slid out from the juke joint with no one the wiser. Erik turned to face her and Lulabelle jumped away from him.

"Stay back!"

"Lula... c'mon, baby. I've been coming to you ever since you opened this place. Have I ever harmed you once?"

"No."

"I just give you good lovin' when I can."

"That's why you can't be with me all the time?"

He nodded.

"I guard the way, and I open it up. Everywhere."

Lulabelle ran to the bar and made Eva pour her the biggest glass of moonshine possible. She gulped it down. Erik sauntered over to her.

"Don't be scared of me, Lula."

"What are you... really?"

"Your man."

"You ain't no man."

"I'm no demon if that's what you're worried about."

"God forbid if I'd been fucking the devil."

"I'm no devil, girl. Far from it."

He stroked her face.

"Let's go to the back. I need you... right now."

His voice made her insides tingle. This was their time. But how could she go back and make love to... to a what? Spirit? Guardian angel? Supernatural being?

He never did hurt her. And never once did she suspect that he wasn't anything other than a switchblade carrying Geechie that made her backbone slip.

"Are there others?" she asked, "Others like you around here?"

"Always. But you don't have to worry about nothin'. You got me. No one fucks with me.'

"How come you didn't save Elizabeth?"

"She didn't want to be saved."

"But I loved her. She was my best friend. Why would she leave me?"

"She's still here. She'll never leave until you chase her on."

"Is she happy?"

"Like I told you, she loves you. If you're happy, she's happy."

"God won't punish me for being with you, will he?"

"She won't. I promise."

"What about me selling pussy and a little dick?"

"Not even on her mind."

Lulabelle smiled.

Erik slinked over to her and rubbed his big body against hers and nudged his bearded face against her soft cheek.

"How many women have you seduced over the years?"

"You my favorite."

"That didn't answer my question.," she said putting a hand on her hip.

"You wanna argue or get some more dick, gal?"

Lulabelle checked the room. Her patrons were happy and not having a care in the world. Eva cooked more food, Honey Boy kept the girls refreshed in their loving rooms, and the Harvest moon spilled in through the window behind the juke band.

Moonlight bathed Erik's face and he slid his hand under her dress again.

"Daddy needs to take care of you... oh see now, my sweet jewel is all plump again."

He removed his hand and licked his fingers sticky with her essence. She rubbed on his crotch and he gifted her with a hard bulge. His eyes drifted up to the ceiling.

"Elizabeth wants you to get all this," he said grinding against her.

"Can you tell her that I miss her? That I love her?"

"She already knows."

Erik lifted her up and carried her across the rickety bridge and back to the soft lumpy bed.

That's their story, and I ain't tellin' it twice. Lula and her Geechee Man played nice for a long, long time. I keep watch and makes sure that stays true. Until we meet again on the next new moon...

Part 2 "There's Some Whores in This House" HERE.

A.N:

This was a birthday story I wrote for @soufcakmistress back in 2021.

[erikftglitter]

The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife

Erik Killmonger AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife

Dr. Erik Stevens leads a life shrouded in silence and solitude, retreating into the shadows of his isolated existence outside the hospital. Haunted by his past and determined to shield those around him from his turmoil, he avoids all human connection. So when middle school teacher and unsuspecting Kari Evans extends an invitation into her world, she unknowingly opens a door to understanding the sadistic nature of Dr. Erik “Killmonger” Stevens.

—

Kari was humbled by most of the comments from married women in her life. A perfect man did not exist and she shouldn’t waste her vital years searching for him. She ought to be somewhat happy with a man and raise a family. Having a hobby or two would fulfill the gaps of unhappiness.

She almost believed that until she was hit by a shopping cart in the grocery store.

“Ow!” She exclaimed. The metal cart had unexpectedly hit the side of her body when she was shopping for cereal. So much for looking for a balanced breakfast.

“Oh my goodness. I’m very sorry.” The man rushed over to Kari and pushed his cart away from her body. She couldn’t even process a response before she felt her shirt being lifted by the man as he examined the damage. What the hell?

“There’s a little redness present and the indentations from the cart should subside within the next half an hour. I’m very sorry ma’am.”

He spoke softly and surely. If he hadn’t hit her a few moments ago he’d have an advantage over the rest of the men in the small town. He helped her off the ground and she didn’t miss the sizable difference between his hands and her body.

Snapping out of her daze by the painfully obvious fact that the man was clearly waiting for a response from her.

“I-It’s alright. I’m okay.” She stammered. It was partially from being flustered by the presence of the man in front of her and partially because she was just face to face with grocery store tiles.

He was perfect. Tall, brownskin, with a build that made her heart flutter. His hair was cut low and he was wearing gold frames that complimented his facial structure perfectly. Her touch starved description of the beautiful man was cut short by his voice.

“I’m Erik,” His eyes never left hers. “Dr. Erik Stevens. Again I’m very sorry for that. I’m a general surgeon at Oregon Medical Center and I’m just trying to figure out what the hell these interns wrote.” He looked down at the white paper in utter confusion and tried to make out the scribbles on the paper. They were definitely living up to the theory that doctors had atrocious handwriting.

“It’s alright.” Kari had enough embarrassment for the day. Being star-struck by a beautiful man in the grocery store after being struck by his shopping cart full of coffee was going to supply enough ammunition for the next year to keep her wide awake at night.

“Well can I make sure that you get to your car safely?” The doctor asked. He was genuinely upset by his actions. It wasn’t like him to multitask and hurt someone. He had always lived by that and he was in the process of teaching his new set of medical students the same thing.

“No, that's okay Dr. Stevens. I’m fine.” Kari just wanted this interaction to stop so that she could curl up into a ball. She was already an anxious adult and it didn’t take much for her to feel overwhelmed. She would just finish grocery shopping another time and at another store completely.

She completely missed how the man drank in her appearance or how his dick jumped at the way she said his name. Erik could just mount the smaller women in the breakfast aisle, but he remained calm. However, his ego was ready to play.

This was an exhausting life for the older man as well. He had started his career in the United States Navy SEALS and practiced medicine in the field. Saving hundreds, if not thousands, of people in the process of his studies. His ability to read people was instinctual and both a blessing and a curse.

Sometimes he longed to be normal. To be able to relate to the other surgeons. To have a wife and kids at home and have simple hobbies outside of work, but Dr. Stevens had a very big problem.

He was not relatable. Not even in the slightest. The Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder that he suffered from made him a permanent victim of insomnia and isolation. After work he worked out, ate, and stayed in complete silence or else his body would not be functional and he would take over again. And he loved to play.

He thought that he was doing a good thing by checking to see if the woman was okay, for heaven’s sake he sees all types of body parts every single day. He was pretty desensitized to anything. He’s not sure what’s triggering the unexpected reunion with him, but he would love it if he went back to hiding.

There was no cure for Erik’s predicament. The Navy created a permanent presence that he could not erase. He was always there underneath the surface waiting to play and Erik just did his best to regulate him. For the most part they were satisfied. He was rich, worked alongside beautiful women that were thankfully married (or else he would’ve probably been in trouble a long time ago), and with the relocation to Oregon he thought that he would have a nice quiet life.

But Kari was triggering him. Maybe it was the clear aversion of eye contact, or maybe the way she gasped and how her lips parted, or maybe it was just the beauty of her existence. Erik and his ego were both in agreement with the latter part and that was never a good thing.

Erik lived in a permanent state of forced celibacy. Between his unexpected reunions with his ego and the way that his PTSD would randomly flare up, his conscious brain felt better about not putting a woman close in his grasp. It had been five years since his last sexual encounter and he fucking hated it. Sure he worked with women and found some attractive here and there, but he was an absolute extremist. If he was not strongly attracted to them then they did not exist. It was not like women hadn’t tried. Some even had the arrogance to imply that he was gay because of his lack of attraction towards them, but the Navy trains you to be a centered being. If he couldn’t control his own dick then he had no business being a trained assassin. Especially being a legally endorsed assassin.

Kari’s voluminous curls were doing something to him. The matching athletic suit that complimented her figure, the doe eyes of pure submission, and her soft spoken voice had his palms sweating. He needed to get away from this woman quickly. But he was too late. Kill was already there and ready to play.

“Well at least allow me to pay for your groceries. I insist.” He smiled at Kari. He watched her face intensely as she debated the offer. This woman was in for it.

Kari continued her shopping as usual. She’s not sure why the gentleman is so persistent about paying for her groceries, but the teacher salary in the small town of Caber City, Oregon was pitiful. Almost as pitiful as Kari. She didn’t expect him to merge their carts and shop together but she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit that the company was nice.

She didn’t have many friends or any for that matter. All of her childhood friends moved out of Caber City as soon as the opportunity presented itself. She had been raised by her grandparents and took care of them both up until their deaths. She lived a quiet life in the big house that they left her. She wondered every day if she should just follow the path of the rest of her coworkers at CC Middle School and just marry someone she went to highschool with.

“You don’t have to be back soon Dr. Stevens?” Kari asked after several moments of silence. Her thoughts were becoming too much for her and she wasn’t home to self-regulate.

“No.” He answered quickly. “Too many hours. They practically kicked me out.” He added. Kari tried to hide the smile creeping up on her face, but Erik didn’t miss the way that her eyes silently confirmed her satisfaction.

“I suppose no wife or children are waiting for you at home then, huh?” Kari was trying not to be painfully obvious at her attempts to know the man a bit better, but if he was going to follow her around and pay for her groceries, then she would feel better if he played into her fantasy. She would probably think about it every day.

“Correct. Long hours are not enough time to get to that I suppose.” Erik replied. That wasn’t a complete lie. Kari nodded. He wondered what she was thinking about. He wondered if she’d been interested or intimidated by him by now. His ego didn’t care either way.

It didn’t take Kari long to finish her list and to help Erik with his. He didn’t mind how long it took, truly. He was more interested in the athletic two piece set that she wore. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off to reveal her stunning figure. The things that he would do to this woman were unacceptable.

Once Erik kept his promise to pay for all her groceries and for their shopping to conclude; Kari almost felt sad. Who was Dr. Stevens really? How could she get to know him more? Oh what hell she had already been embarrassed enough, what’s the worst that could happen?

Erik was fighting a silent battle between himself. He was almost back in control when they left the grocery store and entered the parking lot. All he had to do was load the bags into her car and to get to his car. Then he could take a cold shower and return back to himself and this beautiful woman could return back to hers without his interruption.

“Hey. Why don’t I show you around Caber City sometime?”

Those ten words were enough to make Erik completely lose control. Oh how close you were to being a free woman, he thought silently. With a sinister smile Erik agreed to the woman’s offer.

“I’d love that.”

[bennydwight]

I stumbled across your Two Boys and Their Cars AU for the first time in a while and I forgot how much I love it! I'm curious. With the little nuggets of info that Steven drops by accident, what would Stan's running theories be about his home life? Would he think he was part of some sort of cult (like because of the gem names), or maybe a crime ring (because of the many people who have tried to kill him)? What would Steven's thoughts be about Stan's past?

Also, Steven has NOT had a standard childhood in the slightest, which probably skews his perceptions of normality a lot. What things/situations do you think would come as a suprise to Steven?

Hello hello! I also forget how much I love that au sometimes, I want to revisit it soon :P

Currently, Stan's running theory on Steven's home life is that his mum dipped when he was young (since Steven never really talks about her without an air of profound sadness/regret), and his dad was pretty absent until Steven starting being 'openly effeminate' (remember, this is like the 60s/70s) and he kicked him out of the house. Stan knows the situation wasn't good, due to all the attempted murder lol, but he has his suspicions that the fantastical stories Steven tells about his extended family and his adventures are just ways of coping and protecting himself from the horrible 'reality' of his life.

Steven doesn't have a whole lot to go on in terms of Stan's life, since Stan is very tight lipped due to it still being a fresh wound. He knows that there was a sibling involved just based off Stan's protective instincts, and he knows there wasn't much nurturing in the family since Stan flinches at true emotion. Other than that, and without much practical experience with typical family structures, Steven finds Stan to be hard to read.

In regards to normality, Steven is at a double disadvantage due to being 1) pretty sheltered, and 2) out of his time period. There are things he's been taught, especially relating to emotions and the expression thereof, that just do not fly in the time of Stan's childhood. He's also very openly himself, which makes people generally uncomfortable. There specific social cues he doesn't pick up on as a small-town kid, and a lot of the surprise on his end comes from people not reacting the way he expects them to. He also finds oddly mundane things to be fascinating, like a long stretch of highway, or a biome he's never seen, or laundromats. One of my favourite scenes in this au (as of now, unwritten) includes them both going to a science museum and checking out all the cool things inside!

And then the angst happens after that lol

[mrsbenesova]

David Haller lives with his father on a Greek island called Krakoa and basically can't complain. He's young and healthy, a very strong telepath. He's going to marry the girl he loves. Everything seems to be perfect. Except one thing. Since David remembers he could feel some sort of loneliness and emptiness from his father's mind. Like Charles is missing something deep inside. Something or someone. When David finds his father's old diary, everything becomes obvious.

So he sends wedding invitations to three past lovers of Charles Xavier - Erik Lehnsherr, Logan Howlett, and Hank McCoy - to see which one of them will fill the hole in his father's heart.

This is your X-men Mamma Mia AU which includes Sophie!David, dilf Charles, ever dilfier Erik, sassy Logan, and very spontaneous Hank "The Beast" McCoy. With special guests of crazy aunties Emma and Raven from "Professor X and the Dynamos"

Hold on tight and bow to your Dancing Queen

[galatially]

❝𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐈𝐈: 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, a bit of a come down from the beginning lol

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — who are you to make my heart flutter? who am i to be affected; mornings after aren't all they crack up to be

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 1.6K

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i was rereading this and got nostalgic so here y'all go lol

Dull pain housed itself behind your eyes. 

The sun was too bright and were the birds louder this morning or did they know you were in pain?

You groaned, your hand exploring the expanse of sheets and pillows to find your phone. When sleep dissipated from your vision, you saw four voicemails: three from Theo and one from Erik.

The previous night’s events played in your mind’s eyes like hazy vignettes, fractals of whiskey-sodden movements and hot skin scorched with callused pads of fingers. You shook off the memories and played the first voicemail. 

“Y/N, baby. Pick up.” 

Your throat seized at how bored Theo’s tone was. Like he was speaking to a child throwing a tantrum. 

“You know that we can’t work through this if you don’t answer when I call.”

“Where are you? Your car wasn’t in its spot in the parking space and no one’s heard from you. Call me back.”

“If you want to be a bitch about all of this, fine.”

Wetness hit your collarbone and your free hand wiped at your cheek. You’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t break. Not over him. 

Your thumb hovered over Erik’s voicemail; just ten seconds. You took your lip between your teeth. If you were honest, you’d forgotten that you’d had each other’s numbers. Probably one of those cordial things that friends of the other’s partner does. You let out a shallow breath and pressed play.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Erik. Just wanted to make sure you got home okay. If you ever want to talk about, y’know, anythin’, I’m here.” He blew out a breath. “Bye, Y/N.” 

His voice, whiskey-warm and low, made your belly tighten. Again, your mind’s eye played back the events of last night. How his breath against your ear made your knees weak and your body shudder. How his skin on your sweat-slick skin felt like delicious flames. Your thighs clenched and your mouth watered at the memory of him stretching you out. You pinched the front of your shirt between your forefinger and thumb, circulating some much needed air between your hot skin and the the thin fabric. 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed Erik before now. You’d even made a few offhanded comments that caused several petty fights between you and Theo to the point he’d stopped inviting you to functions where Erik could be present. But last night was different. You hadn’t been alone with Erik before and you were ready to have him take you in the middle of a dance floor. With other half-drunk patrons on all sides. You’d never been that reckless with Theo, never even wanted to be that reckless with him. 

Your phone chimed and you jumped; it was a text from Erik. 

Did you make it home okay? I didn’t hear back and got worried

Emotion lodged itself in your throat. 

Some small, deprecating part of you wanted to denigrate the feeling, chalk it up to jumping into the first physical intimacy you’d had in what seemed like ages. Another wanted to fall — fall so hard, so fast, that you wouldn’t recognize yourself after the impact. You’d become a stranger, a woman consumed. 

Before you could stop yourself, you drafted out a text. Your eyes flitted from left to right, surveying the blue bubble for any signs of overeagerness. Before you could second guess yourself further, you hit the blue arrow. 

Meet me for coffee at Jeannie’s?

You chewed your thumb nail, your eyes glued to the café entrance. 

Your knee bobbed in time with your thoughts, errant and sedentary, flitting between focused and dissociative. You’d tugged at one of your plaits a few times without even noticing. Fidgeted with the sleeve of your sweater and adjusted the rings on your fingers. Your eyes flitted around the café, half-recognizing classmates and friends of friends. You looked down at your watch again; half past nine. 

He could’ve decided not come. It’s not like he owed you anything. 

You shook your head; barring what happened at the club, why were you nervous? You’d been around Erik plenty of times before. 

Except back then, you were with Theo. And one of the times that he caught wind of you and Erik being “familiar”, he stopped inviting you out with him. That was probably one of the nastiest fights you’d had with Theo. You rubbed at the skin of your wrist at the memory.

The bell above the door rang and your vision fixed on the form coming inside. 

His locs were plaited in two braids to the back, bringing his sharp jawline into focus. The scruff of his cheeks ghosted at the back of your neck. He wore a denim jacket over a sinfully fitted black turtleneck and matching jeans, a gold chain hanging loose around his neck. When Erik’s gaze found yours, you sucked in a breath. His hand rose in a half wave and he started towards you. 

“Sorry I’m late.” He sat down across from you, a small smile on his lips. “Lecture ran late.”

“It’s okay. I haven’t been here long.”

Erik snorted. “You’re early to everything, Y/N. What time you get here? Eight forty-five? Eight forty?”

“Eight thirty,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes at him. “I didn’t want to order until you got here. I don’t know what you like.”

“Coffee, two sugars, splash of oat milk.”

You raised a brow. “Oat milk?”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” he said, a smile quirking up at the corners of his mouth. 

“Huh. I never knew that.” You motioned to the server and put in your drink orders. “Did you want something to eat?”

“Nah.” Erik’s eyes burned into yours. “I’m not hungry right now.”

You cleared your throat and politely sent the server off. “So, about last night.”

“What about it?”

“We can’t do that again.”

Erik frowned. “If you think I’m expectin’ anythin’ — ”

“I’m not! I just wanted to make sure that we were both on the same page. I just got out of my thing with Theo and even though you say y’all aren’t friends, y’all have mutual friends and float in the same circles. I can’t jump into something with you when I’ll have to keep seeing him.”

“I’m not tryin’ to push you into somethin’, Y/N. I genuinely didn’t know that was you last night.”

“So, it’s normal for you to go around finger fucking girls in clubs?”

“I’m not opposed to it,” he said, mirroring your bold tone. “You let strange men finger fuck you in dark clubs often?”

“The Y/N you met and the Y/N in front of you are two different people. I can’t speak to her intentions.” 

“Word?” Erik laughed, pretty white teeth on display. “She seemed fun.”

“If you like drunk Y/N more, just say that,” you teased, rolling your eyes. 

“I like any Y/N you’ll give me.”

“Even if it’s platonic?”

“If you just want to be friends, Y/N, we can be just friends. I’m not gon’ rush you into anythin’ just because we happened to be physical one night.”

You smiled. “Thank you. I didn’t want to make this any more awkward than it already is and push you away without an explanation.”

“So this is goodbye?”

You furrowed your brows. “No?”

“No?” 

“I want us to start over.” You held out your hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Erik smiled a dimpled smile and reached forward. You tried to ignore how his hand swallowed yours whole, leaving nothing to the imagination of what they’d look like molded to your body like a sculptor working clay. 

“I’m Erik Stevens. We had a few classes together freshman year, right? I think you stole one of my nice ballpoint pens.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t steal it! You gave it to me and I handed it to back to you!”

The corners of Erik’s mouth curled. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Erik Stevens.”

The brisk October air cut against your skin and you shuddered. 

“You cold?”

You rubbed your hands together. “I should’ve worn a jacket over this sweater but it wasn’t this cold this morning.” 

Heaviness sunk onto your shoulders and the heady scent of Erik’s cologne hit you nose. Your wide-eyed gaze flitted to him. 

“You cold right?” 

“What about you?”

He lifted a shoulder and put his hands in his pockets. “I’m cool.”

Your brows creased. “Erik.”

“Y/N,” he mocked, a smirk playing at his lips. 

You rolled your eyes. “You play too much.”

“I’m not playin’. I gave you my jacket to wear ‘cause you’re cold. That’s what friends do, right?” He moved in front of you and nodded to the jacket. “Put your arms out.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me, Y/N.” 

You didn’t mean to hesitate, but this was all happening too fast. Erik fell into being your friend too quickly, barely reacting to the pull he had on you if he even noticed at all. Were you really so different from Erik? Did you feel too deeply, too passionately? Conflated the small physical intimacy between you into something more?

“Hey.” Erik waved his hands in front of your face. “You good?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to him. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

He took hold of his jacket, his features canted into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Everything.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i'm such a slow burn enthusiast and for no goddamn reason lol

[phenomenal1500]

Toxic Love | Erik Killmonger

Chapter 5: ~Don't Go Out Looking Like That~

For Chapter 4: ~Little Minx~ click here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You better go look for some lingerie too~" The man casually appeared behind her again and reached around her body to grab a red apple.

~~~

She watched him from over her shoulder and twisted around on her barstool to face him.

'Wrong move', she thought as her body began to urge for him, wanting to reach out, touch him, hold him, whatever to stop the need for contact.

Luckily, She managed to keep her hands restrained just in time though and pulled her gaze away from him. She would've loved to get close to him now he was in his human form again, but her mind kept wandering back to what he had said, talking about her being too worn out for him or some shit. That it could kill her too if he wasn't careful with her, so keeping her distant for a bit longer felt like a smart call to her.

"Why? Can't you just imagine it and snap it on me in my dreams?" She shrugged cluelessly and watched the man take a large bite out of the red apple. "I bet you're that powerful."

"I like it more when you're awake and I can rip it off of you for real~." He growled and grabbed her throat in a delicious manner. "And if you think that's power, oh girl, I have some surprises for you."

"I think I'm a little done with surprises and all." She grabbed his wrist when he started to squeeze her throat gently, fighting to give in. "Why don't you just start telling me who you really are?" Her lower back was painfully pressing into the counter and he noticed the discomfort, letting go again. "That's something I would like to know."

"Where's the fun in that, little mama~?" He simply shrugged and raised his brow in a challenging, playful way as he took another big bite out of the apple. He only did so to flash his fangs to her and she would shut up about it.

"Never mind." She sighed and took a long sip from her bottle of water. "I don't even care, just please don't show up at my shopping spree and ruin it though." She carefully pressed the cold bottle gently against her neck to ease the burning feeling he somehow had left behind on her skin.

"I can't promise that, ma." He stroked a piece of her curly hair out of her face. "I can't stay away from my women for too long, especially if they're special to me."

"It's the fact you're not human that makes you less of a creep, you know that? If you were a normal man talking to me like this I would've punched you in the face by now."

"Hell~ I love the attitude you've gotten ever since I took control, girl." He smirked and finished the apple, not minding what she had said to him one bit.

"Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" She rolled her eyes and the man simply hummed in response, holding her hips tightly as he looked her over one more time before he vanished in thin air again.

"Who were you talking to?" One of the younger maidens made her way to the kitchen, smiling sweetly as usual.

If Delaney had to pick a favorite maiden it would've definitely been Kamari.

Kamari was the youngest of the four maidens and closest to Delaney's age so they naturally already clicked better than the older women, but what made them click the most was their similar fashion sense. Kam and Delaney loved helping each other out with their fashion and looks and together they always did some extreme online shopping whenever her father didn't pay any attention.

"Reyna." She held up her phone casually. "I'm going shopping on my own for once."

"Really?!" She giggled and made small jumps of excitement. "Can I come?"

"Yeah, of course." Delaney smiled too and put her phone flat down on the marble counter again. "The chauffeur will be here in 30 minutes, is that enough time for you to change?" She knew it was for herself, but she wanted to give Kamari some time too and she didn't mind delaying the chauffeur.

"Yeah, that's enough." She nodded happily and rushed upstairs just as fast as she had showed up, really wanting to go shopping with the girls alone for once.

Online shopping was becoming boring and shopping with guards all over the place restricted them from actually buying what they wanted so she was so excited for this day out.

It took Kamari exactly 28 minutes to have her outfit styled and on, soft make-up look done and her straight black hair in a bun. She looked cute in her baby pink tennis skirt and her matching butterfly top, matching pink shoes and lipstick as well to finish the look too.

"Look at you." Delaney smiled.

She always loved her soft pink cotton aesthetic, it really complimented her skin.

"Yeah? Looks okay?"

"Looks fantastic." She laughed. "Now I feel underdressed."

You're not underdressed, mama~.

"Underdressed~? Girl, you look like a fucking queen each time. All you need is a king now~." She smirked a bit, pointing at the white miniskirt with a baby blue crossover halter top that Delaney was wearing. "Why don't we go out after our shopping spree? You're already dressed for a fun night out."

"If Reyna is up for that too, we might." She hummed and smiled, grabbing her blue clutch and holding it to her side. "Ready to go?"

"Ready." Kamari smiled too and followed her into the shining black limousine waiting for them.

It didn't take long for them to reach the stores with the three of them and succeed in picking some new outfits for their already overflowing closet, but when they got to the lingerie shopping which Delaney insisted on, things felt weird to her.

It was as if someone was watching her without actually being there.

Like someone was right behind her breathing into her neck without there actually being any air brushing against her skin.

"Seriously?" She whispered to herself as she checked her body out in the big mirror, already knowing he was there with her. She was trying out the bra of a Bordeaux red lingerie set, leaving the panties to guessing the right size. The bra hugged her breasts and sides perfectly though, but she was still hesitant about buying it. "Ya know what? I don't even mind. Can you help?"

Help? I thought mama didn't want me to show up and ruin her little shopping spree~?

"I know, but since you're already watching anyway, I need some help." She sighed and noticed him appear from the shadows, casually leaning against the wall of the fitting room.

"Help with choosing, aye~?" He smirked and checked her out again, licking his lips. "If it's for me, take it. If it's for some small dick you plan on fucking tonight, don't you dare go out wearing that."

"Would it make you jealous if I did?" She teased softly.

"More than just jealous, kitten. Don't try me." He warned, noticing the mischievous grin appear on her gorgeous face.

"What happens if I do?" She bit her lip and folded her hands behind her back in a cute way, looking up to him innocently.

"Then I won't let you walk around on this earth anymore and that would be a shame. You're too gorgeous to take you down with me."

"Down? You mean Hell?" Her innocent eyes grew wide and she took a step back.

He didn't answer however, all he did was stare at her with a dominant glare. He knew that if he answered, she would start trying to figure out what he was by herself and he knew she would probably succeed in that too. The lead was too big to give away.

"It's up for interpretation, ma." He shrugged and winked at her, trying to ease the bad feeling that formed in her stomach. He didn't need her scared. "Down can mean a lot of things. It's many places."

"Shut it, you're from hell." She stopped him from approaching her, but he gently reached out to her and grabbed her wrist. "I knew it.... you're a demon."

"I'm not." He growled in her ear. "Now relax. Your heart is dangerously speeding up and we don't want it to stop now do we?"

"Is that a threat?" She tried to push him away, but he didn't move an inch.

"It's the truth. I won't harm you, I like you too much for that, just calm down. " He managed to calm her down a little bit by lowering her heart, but he could still feel the slight fear.

"You promise...?" She looked up at him.

"I promise, you're safe with me." He stroked her hair back like he normally did.

"Can you come with me tonight...?" She mumbled.

"Hm? Going out with you? Tonight?" He was a bit surprised, staring down at the woman that not a minute ago was almost having a heart attack by how fast her heart went.

"Show me you can be human.... Just for a night."

"I think I can try that, mama." He hummed, not remembering the last time he really went out there into the real world as a 'human' longer than a few minutes.

[youcantkillamutant]

The Advocate: Two Weeks Before Finals

Author: youcantkillamutant

Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)

Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC

Summary: Lex is just trying to get through senior year without failing anything massive, so when she sees a lamb on her running route she ignores it, mostly.

Warnings: Cursing, Mention of Death (Human & Animal)

Words: 3.7K+

A/N: Hi….Remember me? Yeah. I’m still here, this time with a God!Erik AU. *shrug*. I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.

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2 Weeks Before Finals

“I knew it! I knew gods were real! And now one needs your help. This is the most amazing thing to happen in the history of forever. I mean can you beli—What are you doing?” Ruby’s head turned to Lex, where she saw her flipping through something in her periphery. “Why are you studying?”

“Finals are in two weeks Ruby.” In all honestly, Lex was just scanning the pages and hoping that the information would be absorbed. She was too busy thinking about the golden goddess and her message.

“You have been chosen as an Advocate by the gods of Wakanda…”

“Who cares about finals! A goddess just appeared in our living room Lex! With a freaking quest.” By the time she finished speaking, her voice was nothing but a squeak.

“She didn’t say it was a quest Ru.” She said her nephew needed help. Do gods even have nephews? Weren’t they all born out of clay and shit?

“Ertumke, the god of Predator and Prey requests your assistance in a Trial to be held…”

“Fine a task. Maybe even a favor! You can’t ignore a goddess Lex!” Lex slammed the book shut, mostly to stop replaying the scene in her head, but also to scare Ruby into shutting up. Just a little. It was a moot point either way. The chance of that happening after tonight are about as slim as having a goddess appear in your apartment while you’re dripping wet in a towel.

“Do you really believe a goddess just popped by our apartment? I mean seriously Ruby, maybe there was something in our cereal this morning or the smog is—” Ruby’s mouth dropped open in shock, brows scrunched together.

“Lex, you cannot be serious. We don’t even live in a city! There is no smog!”

“You don’t have to live in a city for smog to—”

“Say smog one more time. I dare you.” Ruby looked like she meant it, and after the day I’d just had, I wasn’t interested in whatever payback she was thinking about delivering if I took her up on the dare. “Lex, we just saw a goddess in our apartment and you think it was what? Some weird cereal trip? You don’t even eat cereal!” Ruby’s tone had gone from placating to disbelieving in a sentence, but Lex brushed it off, determined to forget anything happened at all.

“You offered food and drink to an animal he holds sacred. You have initiated a connection…”

“Fine it was a mass hallucination.” Lex waved her hand like the idea of hallucinating at all didn’t send shivers down her spine. Drugs were never her forte.

“There’s only two of us.”

“Then we’re both crazy!” Ruby rolled her eyes so hard she knew she’d have a headache. “Ruby, finals are in two weeks. I am not wasting four years and a shit-ton of student debt for any God.”

“Lex, a Wakandan god just asked you to be their Advocate. That shit only happens in legends. Legends that I’ve studied Lex. There’s no way that this is just som—” Lex could see that Ruby wasn’t going to let this go. They’d been through this before. Well not this exactly, but Ruby had spent all of sophomore year trying to convince Lex that fairies were absolutely real. They still don’t agree and Ruby didn’t speak to her for about a week when Lex had blown her off in the middle of some ‘documentary’ about it.

“Ruby I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” Lex turned on her heel and took the few steps she needed to get into her room. It was early still, the sun only now starting to set, but Lex got in bed anyway. She didn’t want to think about the golden woman and her request. Didn’t want to think that she just might have the life of a god in her hands.

*^*

“The rest is up to you nephew.”

That’s all his dear Auntie gave him. Sure she’d gone and told the girl about being an Advocate, but his chosen advocate didn’t seem all too impressed. Apparently, all she’d done was politely shake her head and promise this is the only time she’d speak to a hallucination before asking Ramonda to leave. What kind of mortal asks a god to leave?

“You’re pacing cousin.” Erik jumped. Trust Shuri to sneak up on him.

“Wouldn’t you be? I assume you heard about my Advocate?” Erik’s voice bordered on contemptuous. Shuri’s brow rose. “She doesn’t even believe in Gods Shu! She thought your own mother was a hallucination.” Shuri snorted at this.

“I know you find this hard to believe cousin, but not every mortal dreams of being visited by gods, especially not now a days. Their gods are much closer than we ever were.” Erik snorted at this. He’d heard of the humans now, dropping their worship of true gods to bow at the feet of musicians, writers, and liars (actors, if you ask anyone else). “You’ll just have to keep working at it. I’m sure you’ll think of something soon enough, you’re mildly clever.”

Shuri disappeared in a metallic flash and Erik did his best not to sniff at her exit. The least she could do was be helpful if she planned on visiting. He couldn’t even be sure why she bothered to come if all she wanted to do was judge his ineptitude to convince one mortal to—

Erik huffed a laugh. Of course, mortals don’t dream of gods. At least, they haven’t in centuries. Erik would have to change that. Leave it to Shuri to inspire and berate him. He knocked on the glass of his cell and shut his eyes.

*^*

Much to her surprise, Lex found sleep, but not rest. Her dreams were filled with silent lambs, rotting fruit and outstretched palms. Whether they were offering or reaching, she couldn’t tell, but she knew the dreams were strange. It was as though she was watching the images on a screen, somewhere else, far away. 

The air was cold and there was complete and total silence. Like someone had reached delicate fingers into her mind and pulled the aux cord. Just as the silence veered from strange to alarming, she heard the rush of a wave coming towards her from somewhere overhead. Lex hurriedly gasped a breath and closed her eyes. Seconds, minutes, hours could have passed, but when she blinked her eyes open, she released a relieved gust of air.

She was in her bathtub, soaking in warm, black water and shrouded in steam. Silver orbs dotted the water, glinting when she looked closer, so instead of looking, Lex closed her eyes. She could hear waves lapping at a shoreline she’d probably never see, and soft padding footsteps. Like a cat, a big cat. Lex pulled her eyes open, turning her head towards the sound. 

A woman appeared, at least, she seemed to be a woman. She was an obsidian Venus, voluptuous and gleaming. The world seemed to bend around her, pulling the stars above to her head like a crown and the night blue sky wrapping around her like a second skin and rich earthen soil guiding her feet along. Or maybe she was the world, or at least the night. Silver starlight dotted the darkness of her form like moles and her face was all too brilliant and beautiful that Lex had to blink and blink and blink to actually get a sense of what her face looked like at all. She didn’t get much.

The black Venus leaned into Lex’s space, resting her face so closely to Lex that she could feel her slow, measured breaths in time with the waves crashing on that unseen shore.

“Advocate, your God would like to speak to you…” She didn’t so much say the words as she breathed them out. Her lips barely moved but Lex could feel the woman’s words drifting through her ears. Before Lex could marvel at the woman any longer, she was gone.

The sounds of the waves was abruptly replaced by howling winds and heat. Blinking, Lex looked around and found miles and miles of sand. Perfect dunes of blood red sand. She sank deeper into the tub, the water cool enough to anchor her in this heat. Before she knew it, the sounds of the windy desert were lulling her into a calm she’d never felt before.

“So you’re the Advocate my family is so excited about.” Lex jumped, sitting upright so fast that the inky black water sloshed over the tub and sizzled on the sand. She could hear footprints in the sand, circling the tub, but when she glanced to her left and right, there was only desert air. “Not very talkative, but I suppose I can see the appeal.”

Lex wrinkled her brow and opened her mouth to say…something, but between once breathe and the next, a man appeared at the foot of the tub, brown arms crossed and smirking.

“What the fuck!” The man kissed his teeth, brows lifted in surprise and maybe a hint of mirth. Lex didn’t know the…whatever this guy was well enough to figure it out. She did know however, that she was naked in this tub.

“Hmm, I would have thought you’d have better manners considering my cousin picked you out.”

“You’re one to talk about manners.” Lex leaned forward in the tub, shifting to her knees and exposing her back instead of her chest. “Who the hell are you?”

“You really can’t guess?” The man seemed annoyed by this and continued on as though this entire conversation was a chore. “I’m Ertumke, and you’re my Advocate.”

*^*

“What did you say he looked like again?”

“Ruby!” Lex had been explaining her dream to Ruby all morning. Ruby had clearly been listening selectively.

“What? He sounds hot.”

“This is not helping.” And it wasn’t. It really really wasn’t, especially because after her dream, Lex woke up…wet, like she’d been dumped from the tub in her dreams right onto her bed. “He said his name is Ertumke and he seems like an asshole. Have you studied any gods like that?” Ruby snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Plenty.” Lex groaned. “He really didn’t say anything else? Nothing about your quest—” At Lex’s withering look Ruby stopped short. “I mean your…mission?”

“He told me his name like it was supposed to mean something, leered at me in the tub and condescended to me so hard I thought about breaking his nose.” I woke up before I could make that happen, but my annoyance lingered.

“Yikes.”

“On the off chance that this is actually happening and I just met a god in my dreams,” Lex huffed “I want it on record that I do not plan on helping him at all. I never agreed to be an Advocate and I sure as shit ain’t helping that dickhead.” Ruby winced like the dickhead in question could hear me, but nodded.

“That’s fair, but honestly…You’re gonna be hard pressed to find a god that isn’t an asshole if my nearly finished mythology degree is anything to go off of.” Lex groaned again.

*^*

Lex couldn’t focus. She’d been at the campus’s largest library for three hours, and all she’d accomplished was color coding her notes. She hadn’t read a word of them. All she could think about was that dream. That stupid, weird, distracting dream. Well, she also couldn’t stop thinking about the text Ruby had sent her with a link to…well she didn’t quite know what the link was for yet, but Ruby’s message had made it clear that it was about the god from her dreams and Lex was trying to establish boundaries about this. Specifically boundaries that would encourage her to write the last few days off to exhaustion and go back to her super, super normal life.

It wasn’t working.

After another 15 minutes of staring at her computer screen, she caved and clicked the link. Oh great, while lex was doing everything she could to forget about the god in her dreams, Ruby had pulled everything she knew about the god in her dreams and delivered it to her in a very organized, perfectly color coded google doc. Perfect.

Ruby might be the most vocal in the necessity of taking a break from studying, but when it came to her work, she was nothing if not thorough. The document itself was about 30 pages with a hefty table of contents, blue links dotting the pages and a bibliography to boot. I recognized some of the books she’d cited because they were often strewn about our dorm. Ruby was not messing around on this. To start, I skipped straight to the section about the ‘Advocate Tradition’, Ruby clearly wanted me to start with the gods themselves, but I couldn’t, didn’t want to think about that. Not yet.

“The gods are not particularly known to be fair to mortals, but amongst their own kind, they make an effort. No god truly wants to see the ichor of another dripping down the hilt of their incabuka, no matter the strength of their anger. To prevent this, and any loss of godly life, the Elders created a system of judgement. A trial of sorts, more of a tribunal would be held against the offending party. They would be required to stand in front of the elders and hear of the grievances of the gods, but they would not be permitted to speak, the gods are persuasive, even to their own kind, and so the Elders decided that an Advocate, a mortal must be the mouth of the god on trial. It was only fair, mortals may be able to sway one another with pretty words, but a mortal mouth can’t do much against a group of gods and certainly not the Elders. No, this was fair, putting the life of an accused god in the hands of a mortal the Elders thought. Very fair. ” — African Gods and Legends, p.72, 1978, Zuri Kahandu

Lex sighed and cracked open a new tab.

*^*

From what Lex could find, the God Ertumke was totally a dick. He had been given his dominion over Predator and Prey to curb his trickery. Trickery that apparently got his cousin cut in half (the effect easily reversed with a spell from the Queen Mother, whoever that is), flooded an entire country with snakes stolen from another (not easily reversed, but part of his punishment was to cull the population in their new country) and even stopped the birth of new lambs for a decade after being offended by a mortal daring to question his power.

Total dick.

Still, Lex had to admit she was curious. What could he possibly have done now that warranted a trial if none of his previous stunts had?

“Oh good, you’re still here!” Ruby plopped into the chair across from her, slightly sweaty but managing to look glowy. She tossed a book into Lex’s arms, and the colorful tabs on the side flashed in the library light. “I brought you some reading.” Lex turned over the book, noting the gilded symbols on the cover and a title in a language she couldn’t read.

“Um…thanks?”

“It’s about Ertumke, or well, his pantheon of gods.” Lex narrowed her eyes at Ruby and she raised her hands placatingly. “I know you said you wouldn’t be his Advocate, this is just incase you change your mind.” Lex’s shoulder’s dropped with a sigh. She still wasn’t sure about any of this, but something pushed her to keep learning. She’d tried to stop it after the whole ‘goddess in our living room’ crap because she knew an obsession when she saw one, and Lex simply did not have time for a new obsession.

“Can you give me the Cliff’s Notes?” Ruby squealed so loud that the librarian left her desk to give them a dirty look.

*^*

Night fell over campus like a blanket, tucking the smarter students in and allowing the careless partygoers to don it like a cape. Lex and Ruby arrived at their place laden with gas station snacks, entirely too much fried chicken for two people and melted brains. They’d spent hours pouring over the book Ruby had brought, the websites Lex had found, and a few more reference books from the library. Lex had come to the conclusion that the gods, in all their omnipotence, were actually absolutely ridiculous and lowkey too sensitive to have all that power.

She and Ruby were cackling about how Gods reacted to “slights” from mortals as they pushed through the door and dropped everything onto the coffee table in front of the couch.

“And the god…what’s his name? W’Kamte? When he built a giant anthill on the home of some human who said ants weren’t as cool as snakes. I mean come on, could you be more ridiculous?” The girls fell back onto the couch, giggling.

“I agree, W’Kamte always has had a flair for the weird.” Breathless, the girls looked at each other. The voice that had shared that tidbit wasn’t theirs. It was light, with a musical lilt. Lex might even call it playful and Ruby definitely would. The two sat in silence for a moment, and between one breath and the next a golden figure shimmered into existence. And then another. And another.

“Do you see three golden figures in our living room?” Ruby whispered to Lex.

“Unfortunately.” The first figure laughed like a song, and for a moment Lex wondered if this is what every church choir in existence had tried to replicate. A soft and melodious sound that swept you away for just a moment, making you think you’d heard just a bit of heaven in those notes.

“I like you! Mother, you chose well for Ertumke.” The second figure looked more familiar now, taller than the first and exuding some sort of energy that made you want to ask for motherly advice. The figure only nodded towards Lex as the first figure hopped, literally hopped in front of Lex.

For all Lex didn’t want to believe this was happening, she felt the heat coming from the figure as it leaned into her face. Her eyes burned as she tried to keep her eyes on the figure invading her space, blinking rapidly when the figure finally leaned back with a sigh.

“You don’t have to believe in us to be an Advocate.” The figure said this casually, and it brought Lex up short. “We still need you. My cousin, he needs you.” There was something in the figure’s voice now. On any mortal, Lex supposed it would sound like pleading, but in the mouth of this god, it was imploring.

“From what I’ve read, your cousin is a dick.” The third figure, taller than the rest, snorted. The sound was deep and tiredly amused. The first figure nodded and waved an arm.

“Be that as it may, he needs an Advocate. He needs you.” Lex looked to Ruby for some kind of confirmation that what was happening right now was crazy. Ruby’s gaze was locked on the golden figures in the room. “My cousin is not particularly noble, or honorable, or moral by the standards of a mortal, but he is loyal. He has defended my family, our lands, and the lands of his allies for millennia. He is unwavering in his fealty and he deserves the same from us.” The second figure nodded again, though begrudgingly this time. The third figure took a step towards me before speaking.

“Ertumke is being blamed for a crime even the Elders will not explain.” The figure paused for a breath, though Lex had the sneaking suspicion that he didn’t need it. “That alone is concerning, but considering the rest of the…upsets happening in our realm, this case, Ertumke’s need for an Advocate…It’s…worrisome. I do not like to see my cousin in chains and I do not trust the Elders to pass judgement, not now. Not—” Before the figure could finish, the lights in the room blinked into darkness. The figures no longer glowed gold, but flickered to a steaming silver. Lex didn’t dare breathe, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t find air in the room if she tried.

The second figure put a hand over the third’s arm. Restraining him? Soothing him? Lex couldn’t decide and let the thought drop as the second figure spoke.

“Watch how you speak of the Elders my son. Remember that they are the makers of our world. Of us.” And with those words our light flicked back on. The silver figures burned gold again and a wave of unrelenting heat rolled over the room. Only for a minute, but enough for Lex to know that the Elders were not to be fucked with.

“I’m sure you know by now that we cannot reveal our true identities to you, but we can help you, should you chose to become Ertumke’s Advocate.” The second figure said this calmly, but Lex could see the tension in the figure’s shoulders. In fact, she could feel the tension sloughing off of all the figures like a slow avalanche. It hit her then, that this was real. Mass hallucinations and sleep deprivation couldn’t create a tension this palpable. Ertumke’s family clearly loved him, knew he was deserving of that love, and now…now they were going to the mat for him. And Lex was their secret weapon. Oh God. Gods? Shit. Lex released a sigh before she spoke.

“Tell me everything you can.” And they did. They told her about the worst things Ertumke has done, the murders and the creations he’s borne. They told her about the battles breaking out in their realm, spreading like a sticky spiders web. They told her about the Godsickness that appeared, leaving the strongest of their pantheon leaking ichor and magic and power. They told her about the worst of it, and then they left. Faded into mist leaving Lex and Ruby to blink the gold out of their eyes. The two girls sat in silence as the moon rose and fell, and when they finally breathed in the reality of their apartment air, cold fried chicken and the strong honeyed scent left by those golden gods they turned to each other.

“You know, the leasing agent should have told us that this apartment was a beacon for Gods.”

“Ruby!” Lex tried to sound indignant, but she couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up, and if it was a little hysterical, Ruby wasn’t the type to judge.

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A/N: Let’s all pretend I didn’t leave this story alone for two years. Cool? Great! I hope y'all are doing well! Life punched me in the face, helped me back up and then dropkicked me and I didn’t have the capacity to write. 

My goal is to finish this story before the end of the year, so if you’re still reading this, thanks for sticking around and I hope to give you an ending you’ll love! 

As I said before, I’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for a year and some change now (I think), and I was inspired by Champion by killmongersgurl.

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Let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off the taglist :)

Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis@queenamaniii@dreadedphilosphy@killmongurl@thelovelyliterary@elaindeereads @thedom223 @muse-of-mbaku@bidibidibombaclaat@panthergoddessbast @writingmarvellousimagines@someareblindtoitsbeauty@jozigrrl@iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots@thadelightfulone@janelledarling @killmongersgurl

[soapgraves]

some things you dont expect to filter out.

[chaneajoyyy]

Thoughts? I’d read it !

ion know…. i kinda wanna write a medical drama themed about Erik… thoughts please?

[uzumaki-rebellion]

"There's Some Whores in This House" Geechee!Erik Killmonger (Part 2 of Ice Cold Jax)

Pairing: Geechee!Erik Killmonger x Black Female OC x Hoodoo!Terry Richmond (as the Crossroads Man)

Warning(s): 18+, Smut, Supernatural Horror, Period Piece, Erik Stevens AU, Terry Richmond AU, Black American Folktale. You have to read "Ice Cold Jax" First!

Summary:

P-Valley Meets Black Supernatural Goodness in 1940s Itta Bena, Mississippi as the second world war winds down to a close. Lulabelle hasn't seen her Geechee man for months, but there's a new whorehouse deep in the woods that's keeping her busy as they steal loyal customers from her juke joint and her stable of working girls. Lulabelle suspects the new Madame in the woods has something to do with Geechee Erik not coming around anymore and she intends on finding out what that heffa is all about, especially when previous customers start dropping dead near the crossroads. An old friend of Erik's, Terry Richmond aka High John the Conqueror, shows up to help. (Need to have read the first installment, "Ice Cold Jax With Geechee!Erik Killmoger")

Word count: 12.9K

"There's some whores in this house

There's some whores in this house

There's some whores in this house

There's some whores in this house..."

Frank Ski – "Whores in this House"

The first dead body appeared at the crossroads after the rising of Hunter's moon.

No one thought much of it because the deceased was a known pickpocket and rabble-rouser named Earl Lee Washington. Folks around Itta Bena didn't pay it no mind for about a week until they found another body in the exact same spot in the middle of a Saturday night. This time it was Reverend Mosley from the Hopewell Missionary Baptist Church and people fell out because why was Reverend Mosley out near the crossroads? The only thing around in that part of the woods was a creek for good fishing, and Lulabelle Humphreys juke joint and whorehouse called "Lula's". Since Mosley didn't have any fishing pole on him in the middle of the night, that only meant that he had been tippin' over to Lulabelle's place pretending to save lost souls for Jesus as he felt up a thick thigh or two with moonshine on his lips.

Lulabelle herself thought little about the dead men. Everybody had their time to go, but that third body stirred everybody up because it was a woman. Zadie Greene was married to Butchie Greene who worked as a Pullman Porter for the railroad. He had emptied his pockets at Lulabelle's on good pussy and strong corn liquor while listening to the hottest backwoods band on that side of the Mississippi River, The Midnight Ramblers featuring Gertie Mae Robinson, the nastiest woman singer to ever touch a stage with her vulgar lyrics and raunchy, good-time energy. The man stumbled across his own wife's body on the way home smelling like another woman's cooch and marijuana. Zadie had worn her J. C. Penney nightgown and a big overcoat hunting for her man and headed for the only place that could keep him from her bed.

The cow shit hit the fan then. Lulabelle couldn't afford folks getting spooked by the specter of death hanging near her establishment. She was an enterprising woman who sold a commodity that folks craved, whether they wanted to admit it. Death was terrible for the pussy business.

Zadie's death hung a pall over the town, and Lulabelle became worried once she started counting up days and putting two and two together. Her Geechee Man, Erik Stevens, hadn't been around for a long time. There might be a random shooting or stabbing that left a man wounded and his ego bruised for a few weeks, but rarely did folks outright die under mysterious circumstances. She became extra concerned when the problem hovered around his territory. Geechee Erik was the Crossroads Man. His dominion was the protection of the supernatural world and preventing otherworldly beings from coming around her. He had claimed Lulabelle as his woman and promised that no harm would come to her, and part of that harm wasn't just physical. Her livelihood meant everything to her. Erik kept the haints, boo hags, the Plat Eye, and the Devil away.

Something must've happened to him.

She fretted about it, reading the paper on the latest victim while sitting on her juke joint's front porch. Honey Boy, her part-time male whore for sweet men, rolled her hair in long metal duckbill clips. She had taken a liking to tight curls all around her head with a side part, and it wore her fingers out, putting the curlers in herself. Honey Boy curled and clipped and she stared at a church photo of Zadie Greene, a plain-faced woman with a big heart and four children to feed by herself now that her husband was gone. Lulabelle tutted under her breath.

"Business is already slowing up. I don't need dead people scaring off my money," she grumbled.

The war had ended and all the men in uniform were coming home once V Day had been declared. Dollar bills sat on Lulabelle's eyelids every day. The boom was heavy for an entire year until recently as it trickled off to regulars and the occasional cross-country traveler.

"If you ask me, ain't none of this mess started happening until them other ladies showed up," Honey Boy said as he twined hair around the clips with nimble fingers.

"What ladies?"

Lulabelle put down the paper and twisted her neck around to stare at Honey Boy.

"You ain't hear? There's a new madame in town. I hear she's got some of the finest women around. No one wanted to say nothin' to hurt your feelings, Lula."

"Eva!" Lulabelle shouted.

Eva, the juke joint cook, and barmaid stepped out onto the creaky porch. She smelled of fish grease and her fingers were covered in cornmeal.

"Why are you hollerin' like that?" Eva said, putting a heavy cornmeal hand on her plump hip.

The older woman looked crossed at being interrupted with her work.

"You know about some new woman setting up shop out here?"

"Sadie Blackstone," Eva said.

"Sadie Blackstone?" Lulabelle said.

"That's what she said her name was. She come 'round here about three months ago. You were in town shopping, and she come right up here introducing herself. She had a big ole fur coat and a fancy car too, filled with pretty girls. She got all the colors of the rainbow, just like you."

"Ain't not one of you heffas think to tell me some new bitch is horning in on my spot?"

Lulabelle swatted Honey Boy's hand out of the back of her scalp.

"She said she was opening a little dress and hat boutique over yonder. It was cheaper than tryna rent a building from the white folks and house her dressmakers in town. She looked all expensive and was using big words like she done came from up North. Y'know how them northern negroes like to act uppity," Eva said.

"That bitch rolled up here with a car full of hoes and everybody kept their lips shut? I oughta fire both of y'all right now!"

"Who 'gon fry up this fish then, gal?" Eva said, staring Lulabelle down.

"Y'all supposed to be loyal and warn me about interlopers. They sitting out there stealing my customers and taking money outta my purse... and yours."

"They ain't got no mens, so I'ma be alright," Honey Boy said.

He left the porch and went inside the juke joint to set tables and prep glasses for the night. Dust kicked up from the slope of the road that led to Lula's, and a black car rolled toward them.

"What is it now?" Lulabelle said. "Betta not be someone telling me they found another body at the crossroads or I will scream!"

Lulabelle and Eva waited on the porch until the car stopped twenty feet away from them.

"Lawd, Jesus," Eva said.

Eva kissed the cross around her neck and grabbed the knob to the screen door.

"Wait now, who that is?" Lulabelle said.

Her heart skipped a beat thinking it was Geechee Erik, but instead, another man with honey, caramel skin, and piercing green eyes that hid a dangerous cunning behind them approached the porch. His dark brown suit was tailored, crisp, and casket sharp. The brim on his head was stylish and new, with a small peacock feather in the band.

"You don't wanna mess with that one, Lulabelle," Eva whispered. "That there is High John the Conqueror."

"The conjure man from over in Yazoo?"

"He more than that. Send him on his way, and don't let him come inside!" Eva said.

Eva ran into the juke joint and locked the door. Lulabelle wasn't worried; she had keys to get inside clipped to her dress. She turned and faced High John.

"Sorry to bother you, Miss. I'm not from around these parts. I'm lookin' for a fella that goes by the name of Erik Stevens."

Lulabelle stayed on the porch. Something told her to stay there and not step down to the man. As fine and polite as he was, there was sinister energy around him. He stepped forward, and she held a hand up.

"You can stay right there, mister. I can hear you good from here," she said.

"He's a big strapping fellow, about your color. Not as pretty, though."

"Whatcha want with him?"

"You know him?"

"I know the Geechee Man," she said.

There was no sense in lying. The man came there directly, so he clearly knew Erik's stomping grounds. The Geechee wasn't human, so that man on her property probably wasn't human, either. Lula stepped closer to the door and kept her eyes on High John.

"Whatcha want with him?" she repeated in a firmer tone.

"I ain't seen him in a long time and that ain't so good for my business," High John said.

Lulabelle was worried herself.

"He hasn't been around here for a couple of months," she said.

"You're worried about him. You his woman?"

"I am."

"Hmmm. I see why he likes it around here so much. Big fine woman like you to lay up with."

Lulabelle's cheeks warmed up. High John moved in closer.

"Big hips. Big titties. Big legs. You sure you didn't swallow him up between your thighs, beautiful?"

Lulabelle squinted at the audacity.

"Maybe I need to spend some time with you and follow where he went," High John purred.

"You best move along, sir!" Eva shouted.

She ran out of the juke joint and flung a bowl of salt on the ground in front of High John. He chuckled and kicked black dirt over the white grains.

"That don't work on me, ma'am, but I respect your efforts," High John said.

He tipped his hat at Lulabelle.

"I'll be back around again. I can smell his scent all around here. Tell Elizabeth I may need her services soon," he said.

He hopped into his car and drove off.

"Who is Elizabeth?" Eva asked.

"Just an old friend of mine," Lulabelle said with a chill running down her back.

Elizabeth had been dead for nearly two decades. But her ghost still lingered around Lulabelle's juke joint and whore house.

Something awful bad must've happened to Erik, and none of that trouble started until Sadie Blackstone showed up in Itta Bena. Ghosts, the Crossroads Man, High John, and a northern bitch stealing her customers had her thoughts in a tizzy. Lulabelle wanted to sell pussy and moonshine in peace. That's what she aimed to do. She marched herself to her bedroom attached to the back of the whorehouse to find her best dress and shoes. It was time to meet Sadie Blackstone. Her mind was on her money, and money was on her mind twenty-four seven. No northern hussy was going to ruin her pockets. If she had to fight haints and conjure men, so be it. She lived in goddamned racist America. Money was the only thing that would protect her, and since Erik Stevens wasn't around anymore, she'd have to face the enemy all by herself. Human or not.

The new whorehouse was within walking distance of the crossroads.

Lulabelle trampled through the heavily trafficked path of grass and fall leaves that led past tall loblolly pines. She curved around a few rotting snag trees and swatted away annoying gnats that buzzed around her eyes seeking moisture. A clearing opened up and she expected to see a ramshackle house. Instead, a sturdy tan and brown craftsman home came into view. Lulabelle stayed hidden behind a trio of skinny trees. Although it was daylight, the house gave off a cold dread that overtook the warmth of the sun toasting her skin.

The land they were on used to be part of a plantation with an old manor that had long burned down to the ground four miles away. It had now become part of the overgrown woods. An unfinished stretch of railroad tracks sat near the property covered with overgrown brush that ran out behind the creek it tried to follow a long time ago. The train route that was supposed to pass through and flatten out that part of the woods never came into fruition, having been moved a couple of miles away by the railroad company. It was the main reason why Lulabelle picked that part of Itta Bena to do business in. Close enough for travelers far and wide to get to her, while also discreet enough to hide from main street's conservative prying eyes. The Choctaw words "itta bena" meant a house in the woods or a camp of trees, and the area lived up to the small city name. Shrouded with the canopy of branches and leaves protecting it from sunlight, the house looked out of place. Unnatural. Only decomposing trees belonged out there, and the whorehouse reminded Lulabelle too much of the Hansel and Gretel story from her childhood. Sadie Blackstone's place was a lure for straggling adults. Instead of a house made of candy and gingerbread, grown-ups came to taste the nectar between the legs of lascivious women. In the light of day, Lulabelle shivered and wondered if it was better to come back with other people. Being alone in the woods with a pristine house that looked too new, too bright, and so wrong brought goosebumps to her arms. She twisted her hands in the pockets of her dress.

Dollar bills weighed on her eyelids again and Lulabelle shook away her unease and focused on her task. Meet the enemy. Better to do it in the daytime when she could see everything out in the open.

She stomped her way to the house and marched right up onto the porch. Banging on the screen door, she waited with bated breath for someone to open up. Tapping her left heel on the porch, Lulabelle sucked her teeth and slammed a hand on her hip. She noticed the door frame had a thick lump of brown paint that bubbled up from a cheap paint job. Running her nail against the paint, Lulabelle peeled back a strip and crinkled her nose when a few termite larvae squirmed inside a rotted hole.

"Well, hello, neighbor," a silky feminine voice crooned behind the opened door.

Lulabelle squinted to get a good look at the tall, pretty, dark-skinned woman with a heart-shaped face and a bright, winning smile. Her teeth were whiter than the cracker cops that took a cut of Lulabelle's money to look the other way with her establishment. Naturally thick eyebrows were plucked perfectly over deep-set, dark brown eyes that twinkled with the promise of a good time or some good trouble. Her lush lips were covered in a thick coating of red lipstick. Lulabelle admired a dark woman who was brave enough to wear bold red like that in the daytime. It wasn't the norm.

"You must be Lulabelle Humphreys."

"I am."

"I'm Sadie. Sadie Blackstone."

"I knows who you are."

"Do ya now?"

Sadie opened the screen door in a welcoming manner. She wore a tight, spaghetti-strapped wild berry pink dress with a rose-tinted flower brocade. Lulabelle looked over Sadie's shoulder and observed a slithering den of good-looking women of all hues staring back at her from settees and chairs spread around an inviting front room.

"Heard you been stealing my customers," Lulabelle said, cutting to the quick.

"Stealing?"

Sadie tilted her head back to her stable of whores.

"You hear that, ladies? She accused me of stealing," Sadie said with an indignant chortle.

The other vipery women giggled back at the comment, infuriating Lulabelle.

"Sister girl, there are plenty of men in the world to go around for everybody," Sadie said.

"This is Itta Bena. Not the world, Toots. I've been selling pussy by the pound for five good years here, and I'm fixin' to keep on selling for many more years to come. This city ain't big enough for two cat houses—"

"Calm down your garters, Sister girl. The war overseas is done. No need to start World War three up in here. There's profit to be made for all of us. Plus, I hear you only sell pussy on the side. You got a juke joint, sell fish and chicken plates, provide musical entertainment… all we do over here are tits and ass. Nobody is cutting in on your profits."

Lulabelle reared her head back.

"You think you're gonna sit up here on my turf, comfortable as if pilfering a few coins ain't cutting into my bottom line?" Lulabelle said.

"You need a drink to cool down your temper. Come on up in here," Sadie said.

She opened the screen door and stepped aside, making room.

Lulabelle hesitated. But curiosity got the better of her. She switched her heavy hips into the place, letting Sadie see what down-home ass looked like in a tight dress too. The scarf she had on her head kept her curled hair safe from dust and debris in the woods.

The interior was larger than what the outside first impression gave her. In fact, the hall behind Sadie looked long enough for more rooms than Lulabelle's little whorehouse had back on the creek. The other women gazed at her with disquieting eyes while wearing red satin robes inside the cooler front room. Velvet furniture, Persian rugs, and stylish French alabaster boudoir lamps decorated the place. It had more of a European parlor flavor than a typical country house full of ill repute and cheap goods. Glancing around at the women again, Lulabelle felt more like a Brer Rabbit surrounded by hungry trickster coyotes. She swallowed hard and broke eye contact by staring at a fireplace mantle covered with several mason jars filled with moonshine. She counted ten jars across the top. Six were full, and the other four were empty. Next to the mantle was a liquor table filled with whiskey and assorted libations with fancy glass cups.

Sadie jerked her head toward her stable, and all four women stood up and sauntered to the back of the house.

"Too early for the hard stuff," Lulabelle said, waving at the mason jars.

Sadie grinned and picked up an expensive bottle of scotch. She poured herself a glass and one for Lulabelle, too. They clinked glasses, and Lulabelle took a small sip.

"Excuse me for a moment," Sadie said.

The woman left the front room to go to the back of the house. Lula put her glass of scotch down and inspected the oil painting above the mantle. It was a picture of Sadie and her women. All four of the whores sat on a baby blue and cream tufted French sofa with old-fashioned hairdos that Lulabelle hadn't seen since her grandmother had been alive. Sadie stood behind them, leaning forward with her arms draped across the back of the sofa. The painting unnerved her, and she couldn't put her finger on what exactly bothered her about it.

One of the clear jars filled with liquid caught her eye with movement inside of it. The sixth jar in the row had a tiny funnel swirl inside of it. It stopped when Lulabelle stared directly at it. She slipped her right hand around the jar. It was warm to the touch and seemed to grow warmer against her fingertips. She took her left hand and twisted the metal lid, breaking a seal around it. Lifting the lid, Lulabelle took in a whiff of sulfur, and clearly and distinctly heard a gravelly voice whisper from inside of it.

"Erik?" she murmured.

Another tiny funnel swirled, and Lulabelle watched the shape of Erik's lips and nose materialize in the liquid.

The clicking of heels moving toward the front room frightened her, and she twisted the lid back on the jar, going against her urge to pour the liquid out. She grabbed her glass of scotch and moved over toward a velvet chair, pretending to admire the texture by stroking it with her free hand.

"Had to see about some things. Forgive me for leaving you so long. I'm expecting a friendly crowd tonight," Sadie said.

Lulabelle turned to her and kept a tight-lipped expression. Sadie's eyes slid off of Lulabelle's face and glanced over at the mantle. Her dark eyes squinted for a second as she regarded the mason jars. Sadie shook her head and clucked her tongue.

"Just had to be nosy," Sadie hissed. "Good thing is, Sister girl, there's plenty of room up there."

The four other women slinked back into the parlor and surrounded Lulabelle.

"You like seeing thangs you ain't supposed to see, huh?" Sadie said.

Lulabelle watched the skin of Sadie's face grow puffy like a bullfrog getting ready to croak a loud belch in the creek. The flesh split like it wanted to turn itself inside out, letting her see the raw red insides of a slippery horror.

Sadie's hypnotic gaze kept Lulabelle's feet from running. Frozen in place by the menacing darkening of Sadie's eye color, Lulabelle couldn't even make a sound of protest. Her vocal cords became stiff and immovable. She couldn't even wiggle her fingers or toes. Only her eyeballs still had the ability to move, and they made a slow arc toward the open front door. A car had pulled up, and she prayed it was a customer who could help her escape.

The sound of a driver's side door creaking open shattered the quiet terror oozing all around Lulabelle. The crunch of heavy feet stepping on loose gravel became music to her straining ears.

"Hello?"

The male voice was familiar.

High John.

"Shit," Sadie grumbled.

The distraction freed Lulabelle, and she fled out of the house, leaping off the porch toward High John. He grabbed her arms to halt her frazzled getaway.

"Slow down now," High John said.

"They did something to me," Lulabelle blurted out.

She pushed her face into his chest to muffle her voice.

"Erik is in there. They have him in a jar on the mantle—"

"Shh," High John said.

"She's turning inside out… that woman… Sadie… her face…"

High John gripped her arms tighter as Lulabelle glanced around the woods and noticed that the sun had gone down already. It was only nine in the morning when she left her place, but by the looks of the darkening shadows stretching a night sky across the canopy of trees, it had to be at least five in the evening. They had her in that house for hours, and she didn't even know it.

Lulabelle squeezed her eyes shut. The screen door slammed loud and High John turned his attention to Sadie.

She looked normal again.

The deception lingered around her as Lulabelle watched the woman pat her cheeks like it was hot instead of making sure her cheeks had returned to their artful disguise.

"Let's go," Lulabelle pleaded, tugging on High John's arm and dragging him toward his car.

"Can I help you, mister?" Sadie inquired.

All four of Sadie's women stepped onto the porch with her, their satin robes discarded to show off sexy lingerie that highlighted their best assets.

"No ma'am, just came to pick up Miss Lulabelle here. Promised her a ride back," High John said.

He opened the passenger door for Lulabelle, and she scrambled in and slammed it shut.

"We're gonna be late," Lulabelle said, rushing High John along.

"A fine man like you should spend some time with us. I have a quality selection of ladies to choose from," Sadie said.

"I can see that you do, but I'm a little sweet on Miss Lulabelle's place," he said.

"Hmph. Suit yourself then. When you tire of your usual, come on back around here," Sadie said.

"Will do," High John offered.

He walked to his driver's door with a bounce in his step and hopped in with a whistle on his lips. They drove away without speaking until he reached a turn that led them riding over the crossroads towards her place. High John pulled over near a shrub of red buckeye that hid them from her juke joint. He stared at her, and she remembered he wasn't what he seemed to be, either.

"How did you know I was there?" she asked.

"I followed you."

"Why?"

"I knew you would lead me to the Geechee Man. Tell me what you saw in there."

"They gotta be witches or something—"

"A hag. She's a hag. Close enough to witches, I guess, for you to understand. The others are her minions, demons she's conjured up to act like whores to lure human bodies so the hag can ride them until they're dead."

"She's got a bunch of mason jars on her fireplace mantle filled with clear sulfur water or something. I opened one of them and heard Erik's voice… saw his features through the glass like they trapped him inside of it."

"She trapped his soul in there. What you described is something they do after they've taken a body."

"When she caught on that I had messed with one jar, her face… it started changing like it was flipping itself around… inside out."

High John sat back in his seat.

"He done got himself in a mess of trouble."

"He's still alive though, right?" she asked with a wavering voice.

"Only because he ain't mortal. Them other jars are dead souls. Little mementos for the hag to enjoy as playthings. That's why so many people have been found dead at the crossroads. Somehow, they tricked Erik and stole his spirit, leaving the crossroads unguarded for months. They can't kill him outright. But they can torture him… weaken him until he fades."

"Can you save him? Steal the jar and free him? I opened it, but I didn't know what to do. I was so scared."

"She cast a spell to keep him trapped. The problem is, even if you found that jar, we don't know where his body is. He uses a corporeal form to hide his essence, which helps him control his powers in this world. Without it, he can't come back."

"What the hell kinda powers do you have, then? Eva acts like you're the devil himself. She's scared of you, so you must can do somethin'."

"Sadie will come for you tonight. She can't afford for you to run your mouth about her house. I say, run your business as usual, and let me figure out a way to guard this place and find Erik."

Worry lines creased his face.

"What?" Lulabelle said.

"We ain't got much time. He can't be away from his body too much longer. It'll degrade over time, and it's already been three months on the mortal side of the veil."

"Veil?"

"This side of the spiritual partition separating humankind and us."

"What are you? Another demon? Haint?"

High John ignored her and appeared to listen to something she couldn't hear.

"Carry me up to my place so I can fix my hair and change my clothes," Lulabelle demanded.

High John nodded and put his car back in drive. They rode along in silence to the side of the juke joint where some of the band members she hired had already parked. Lulabelle jumped out and High John followed her. He stopped at the front porch and reached for a leather string around his neck. He pulled on it until a small blue handkerchief bundle the size of half a man's fist popped up. Untying it carefully, his nimble fingers reached inside and he pulled them back out. Brick-red dust colored his digits. High John squatted and traced a symbol in the dirt before walking all around the juke joint, pouring more dust on the ground. There shouldn't have been enough to circle the juke joint, but somehow, someway, the man completed the circle and sealed it back in front of the porch again. He tucked the mojo bag under his clothes again and clapped his hands together hard. The sound echoed all around, even scaring an old hooting owl that lived in a tree behind Lulabelle's Loving Rooms, where her clientele got busy with her girls after chowing down on chicken or fish.

"This spell will only last as long as the moon stays high. Once it drops… if we don't find The Geechee's body before moonset… my protective circle fades and they can leave the juke joint. He'll be a goner for sure then. Lost forever if we don't get that jar and man back together," High John said.

He turned his head toward the woods from where they came.

"Once the hag and her demons cross over this circle and go into your place, they're stuck inside until the moon goes away. That'll give us time to sneak back to their house and get Erik."

"We?"

"Yes, we. You opened the jar and broke the seal. That means you're the only one who can get him out."

"But we have to find his body first."

"That's where Elizabeth comes in."

"How do you know about her?"

High John winked at Lulabelle.

"I have my ways. Take me to her."

"I can't see her. I just get a feeling—"

"Take me to where you feel her the most," he said.

Lulabelle glanced at the juke joint.

"Eva said not to let you inside," she said.

"What would she rather have? Me helping you, or that hag stealing Erik's soul and ruining your business with all the body snatchin' she's been doin'?"

Lulabelle huffed and headed up the steps.

"C'mon, man."

High John followed her into the juke joint where the Midnight Ramblers were already set up on the small stage.

"Lula, gal, where ya been?" Gertie Mae said.

The lead singer of the Ramblers fussed her way over to Lulabelle.

"Honey Boy said you went to check out your competition, but when he went lookin' for ya, he couldn't find you," Gertie Mae said.

Gertie Mae looked at the scarf covering Lulabelle's hair.

"You not even dressed and ready yet. What's going on, girl?"

"Got busy with some business stuff. I'ma go get ready. Y'all get that music jumping and let these folks know that the party is starting!" Lulabelle said, flicking her right hand in the air.

She hustled High John away from Gertie Mae's prying eyes and took him to the back of the joint, where her usual seat was to watch the place in progress. Glancing around the area, Lulabelle threw out her hands.

"This is where I usually—"

She turned toward High John, catching him conversating with thin air. Lulabelle watched him talk in a hushed tone, pull out his mojo bag again, reach into it, and blow red brick dust in front of a chair. She glimpsed a ghostly figure, a woman with wavy long hair, and blinked back a tear or two as a bit of dust fell into her eyes.

"You should go get yourself gussied up, Lula. I freed Elizabeth to go find Erik's body," High John said.

He looked around the place as some customers high-stepped it inside just as the band struck up a hot, nasty jig that got folks hopping around before they even had their first drink. Honey Boy rushed over to her, and Lulabelle waved him away.

"I'm fine. Get these people liquored up and I'll get dressed," she said.

Gertie Mae eyed High John up and down one last time and yelled into her microphone.

"You gon' let that one hang his drawers low for ya?" Gertie Mae cackled.

High John howled with laughter, making everyone in the juke laugh with him. Lulabelle rolled her eyes and strode out of the juke joint through the hall that led to the Loving House creek bridge. Crossing it, she bypassed her girls, who flitted around in loose silk and lacy things. Making her way to a side room that she used for herself, Lulabelle poured water into a basin, stripped down, and rinsed off dust and the smell of the deep woods. It took her some time to get all the duckbill clips out of her hair. She combed, then fluffed out her tight curls, smoothing them into the perfect style. Make-up didn't take long to put on. Her plump lips smacked at her reflection in the mirror. Touching her stomach, she felt and heard the rumble of hunger, realizing she hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast. There was no time to focus on eating. She had to keep her wits about her. High John sent her former best friend, a ghost, to search for the rest of her supernatural lover's self. How could a hag trick the Crossroads Man? Erik was clever, powerful, and able to sniff out an inhuman creature from miles around. Ain't no way some slinky demon walked up on him and fooled him that easy.

Lulabelle took a moment and stretched out on her bed, calming herself. Too much was going on and all she wanted was for her man to come swaggering into her place again, showing her them shiny gold teeth, and lifting her onto that Daddy dick. She was tired of dead bodies showing up on her side of town instead of where the white folks were. A damn witch was making her life a mess. A knock on her bedroom door startled her agitated reverie.

"Who is it?" Lulabelle shouted.

The new girl, Altovise, stuck her head through the crack in the door. She had replaced one of Lulabelle's pregnant girls a few months back, right before Erik disappeared. Her short black bob of heavily greased curls made the room smell like bergamot.

"This man out here wants you, Lula," Altovise said.

High John pushed Altovise aside and stepped in, locking the door behind him. Lulabelle sat up, but he was next to her, sitting on the bed before she could feign decorum.

"Filling up fast out there. Good profitable business," High John said.

His fleshy lips said the words as his eyes raked down to her breasts that sat heavy and propped up with her good full-figure bra. Her cleavage spilled over the low cut of her dress. He reached over and dragged warm fingers up and down her arm.

"You look real nice, Lula. I cleaned up myself in that kitchen. Miss Eva let me use some hot water to bathe with and I changed my suit for you."

"No need to look good for me," she said.

He smirked. Without his hat, she could see his eyes clearly. Soft green ones with little flecks of pale jade toward the center. His cologne was spicy, like the kind the soldiers wore when they got paid and wanted to show off. The scent of nutmeg, anise and lemon tickled her nostrils with the odor of his breath reminding her of warm maple syrup. His wide nose complemented his full lips which had a playful twitching to them every time he said her name. Lulabelle tried to brush past him.

"I better get out there—"

High John gripped her by her arm tight and held her in place on the bed next to his hip.

"There needs to be a little discussion about payment," he said.

"Payment?"

She yanked her arm out of his hand.

"You said you were looking for him because he does business with you. A monetary transaction ain't got nothing to do with me, buddy," Lulabelle snapped.

"Who said anything about money, sweetheart?"

A lecherous pulling down of his lips made Lulabelle grit her teeth and huff under her breath.

"You want to fuck one of my girls?" she said.

"I wanna fuck you."

"This some bullshit, man. Why are men so typical?"

"I ain't no regular man."

"You act like one."

"You don't gotta pay me now. Let's just say you owe me, and I can collect later."

Lulabelle sucked her teeth.

"I'm just playin' girl. That Geechee said you don't enjoy being teased," High John said, slapping her kneecap.

He stood up and gave her a serious look.

"The moment they step in here, we have to play it cool and sneak away quietly. Hags only have power over their own dominion when they are in it. We get them preoccupied first, and then we can rescue Erik's spirit. The last thing we want is for them to harm anyone here," he said.

The old owl hooted outside, and High Joh turned his head in that direction. "I feel them coming," he said.

He clasped her hand, and they left the Loving House, crossing over the creek bridge and back into the juke joint. They pushed past excited dancers and the wall-to-wall patrons packed in her place. The Midnight Ramblers had Lulabelle's spot stacked like sardines in a can. Hot, funky, and full of spunk, Gertie Mae sang her ass off, and the crowd ate it up.

Outside on the porch, Lulabelle and High John spotted Sadie and her demon whores strolling out of the woods in stylish dresses and heels. Their movement seemed too fluid. Like they were floating instead of walking, but Lulabelle clearly saw their feet on the ground. Sadie shook her lean hips as she listened to the raucous sounds spilling out from the door.

"Ooh, sounds good in there, Lulabelle," Sadie said.

The hag eyed High John and gave him a wide smile.

"Thought you were expecting a crowd at your place," Lulabelle said.

"Later. We just wanted to come by and get some fried fish and listen to music. A little fun for my ladies before they have to work tonight," Sadie said.

One of the lighter-skinned whores snickered and held a finger under her nose like Sadie had said a funny joke. High John pulled out a toothpick and jabbed it between his teeth, making room for some new patrons to come inside. Lulabelle kept her cool.

"Come on in and see what good business looks like," Lulabelle said, mustering up a brave face.

Her heart pattered so fast in her chest watching Sadie and the others step across the protected threshold. She glanced at the moon that showed a glimpse of itself rising over the woods across from her juke joint. Opening the screen door, Lulabelle nodded her head toward the inside.

"Welcome," she said, grinning hard because Erik's life depended on it.

The women swept past smelling like strong perfume and trouble. She trailed behind them with High John just as Gertie Mae and the band whipped up another frenzy with a song talking about where to get the best sugar in town and everybody knew she was about to get filthy once she hiked up her dress and showed off gartered stockings.

Sadie and her demon girls wasted no time joining in with the dancing. They grabbed men away from other women and began grinding their breasts and asses against hips, groins, and hardening dicks. One bawdy demon, pretending to be a delicate-looking Black rose with succulent lips and feline eyes, took off her dress and slinked around a patron in her black bra and panties. She strutted her stuff, whipping up the thick crowd into another frenzy. Some men even had the nerve to throw money at her. Hoochie Coochie dancing began all around as if the crowd became infected with the seductively charged atmosphere. One demon girl jumped on the stage and thrust her narrow hips at the guitar player, nearly upstaging Gertie Mae who only fueled the fire by using her handkerchief that she used to wipe away a sweaty brow to fan the dancing whore on to more steamy shenanigans. Patrons sitting at the small tables stomped their feet and pounded the tables, making their liquor glasses and cold beer bottles jump with the brazen action.

Gertie Mae kicked up her heels and caterwauled into the microphone.

"I treats him kind but he don't do me right!

We fights and quarrel most every damn night

I can't have no man's got such low-down ways

Cause the blue gum man ain't the style now'days

I brought him from the north and I'm sendin' him back

Else I'll use his head for a carpet tack!"*

Lulabelle gazed at the crowd who had no clue about the wickedness among them. There was nothing she could do to prevent them from mingling with evil. Gertie Mae howled into the microphone a new tune that always brought the house down.

"Oh, the white girl rides in a Cadillac

The yella gal rides the same

Black gal rides in a dusty Ford

But she gets there just the same!"

High John slipped his hand around Lulabelle's and pulled her toward the kitchen. They slipped out of the juke joint through the backdoor and ran to his car. He drove fast out of the parking area, heading for the deep woods where Erik was held captive.

Lulabelle's heart lodged in her throat when they arrived at Sadie's whorehouse.

"Let's hurry," High John said.

Leaping out of the car, Lulabelle followed him to the porch. He checked around the grounds for something, holding his hand back for her to stay put. He dashed over to a stump on the side of the house and pulled out his mojo bag again. Quickly moving his fingers over the stump, Lulabelle listened to the house creak like it was about to collapse on itself. High John glanced at the house, then moved over to her.

"It's safe now. I had to put my protective root over it so the house won't snitch on us being here. Sadie may have some tricksters planted inside, but they won't notice us now," he said.

They cautiously climbed the steps, and High John opened the screen door. He juggled the front doorknob, and it opened whispery quiet as if it expected them.

"Hold on," he said.

He pulled a matchbox from his coat pocket and struck it, allowing them enough light for Lulabelle to get to a lamp and turn it on.

"There, on the mantle," Lulabelle said, pointing to the mason jars.

"Grab the one that has him," High John said.

Lulabelle eyed the jars and honed in on the one she remembered touching. She lifted it, spun around, and showed it to High John.

"Open it!" he said.

She twisted the lid and held out the jar to him.

"What do I do now?" she yelped, wide-eyed and scared.

High John took the jar from her hand and drank down the contents like he'd been parched for one hundred years.

"Da fuck you doin' man?!"

Lulabelle snatched the jar away from him, but the man swallowed down Erik and licked his tongue around his meaty lips.

"You tricked me!" Lulabelle shrieked.

"Calm down, Lula!" High John snapped.

Lulabelle wrestled the jar away from him and busted him upside the head with it. Blood gushed from the split in his temple, and she dashed toward the front door. High John grabbed her arm and swung her back into his chest. Smothering her lips with his large mouth.

She thrashed within his firm hold on her and jerked her face away from his, breaking his hold on her lips.

"Lula, baby! It's me!"

Lulabelle stopped moving and gazed deep into High John's eyes. The voice coming out of his mouth was Erik's. She swooned and his grip on her tightened and he pulled her in close.

High John kissed her, but the moist lips, the feel of them was all Erik. She cradled his face.

"What's going on?" Lulabelle said.

Erik nuzzled her cheek.

"You saved me, baby."

He dragged her out of the house and down the steps.

"Over there!" Lulabelle said, pointing to High John's Packard.

He helped Lulabelle get into the passenger side and he ran to the other door. High John left the keys in the ignition. Her man, using High John's body, held the steering wheel with trembling hands.

"Erik? Is it really you?"

Tears welled up in Lulabelle's eyes. High John turned to her and caressed her face. He pressed his dewy lips against hers and she squeezed her eyelids shut, praying that it wasn't a cruel trick. The taste, the feel, and the urgency of the kiss were all Erik. His deep wet kiss fed her a tongue that reminded her of why she adored him. This was her man. The Crossroads Man. The opener of the way to the old African Gods and pathways to other worlds. Back where he belonged. With her.

He released her and she jumped in her seat as the eyes staring back at her belonged to some other beautiful man. High John. She whimpered next to him and High John hugged her, his muscular arms and scent so different from Erik's but feeling like him just the same. Her lips hungered to kiss him again and tongue him down to his socks, but she couldn't get over that he was housed in a different man.

"What is happening?" she said.

"High John is letting me use him as a vessel to carry me until I can find my body."

"You sent… I mean… he sent Elizabeth to look for it. Do you remember where you were last?"

"Near the crossroads."

"How were they able to get you?"

Her head swam with the incongruence of hearing Erik's voice come out from a stranger's lips.

"Don't cry, baby."

She rested her head on his chest, listening to the heartbeat whispering love in her ear. Three months felt like three years while he was gone.

"They used a piece of your hair to cast a spell pretending to be you. One of them made an offering at the crossroads for me and clouded my eyes," Erik said.

"Your affections for her helped them fool you," High John said, interrupting Erik.

The switch-up made Lulabelle's head spin. A two-for-one sat next to her, and she reeled from the dizziness it produced in her.

"They must've come into the juke and got close to her… stole some hair or maybe fluids from something she drank out of and conjured a vision that clouded your eyes, Geechee," High John said.

"I can't stay in him long," Erik said.

The green eyes piercing into her made Lulabelle fret.

"I missed you, woman," Erik said.

He pulled Lulabelle onto his lap, and she felt his body react to hers. The skin beneath her fingers thrummed with anticipation as the heat from him seeped into her. She closed her eyes so she could imagine being with Erik, but the frisky hands on her ass made her gasp and stare at High John's handsome face.

Strong hands lifted her up and down onto a covered, bulging erection that felt like a steel rod underneath her panties. Determined fingers tore her underwear off and she lifted her hips so that High John… Erik… could unfasten his pants and released his dick.

"Wait," Lulabelle said.

She wanted to wait until he was in his own body, but Erik's heavy breathing told her otherwise. Plus, High John was a fine specimen of a man with just as much sex appeal as the Geechee man.

"I need you right now… please…" Erik begged.

He snaked that thick tongue in her ear and licked her down to her breasts, pushing them together. His palms squeezed and lifted the lush mounds until he could kiss them fully across the tops.

"Ride me, Lula, let me feel you again."

High John's body made Lulabelle ache with desire and long-felt longing. Their lips collided again, and he renewed their vows of pleasure that had been stolen for three months.

"We have to go, find your body—"

He smothered her lips and dominated the arch in her back, bending her until her shoulders rested against the steering wheel. His hands pulled down the front of her dress and slipped around her lower back to release the hooks on her bra.

Big tits spilled all over his chest, and the groan out of his throat thrilled her. She was with two men at the same time in one body, and the heat of them made her feel damp between the legs and wanton.

"Lula," he moaned.

He lifted her again, and she slid down on his erection, holding her breath and clutching his shoulders. It felt like cheating, but it wasn't. Not really.

"Fuck," High John groaned.

Her wide ass rested on his balls, and they both sat still, getting used to the sensation of the connection. Lulabelle's head fell back and High John stuffed a big nipple in his mouth, sucking on her breast with a ravenous tugging that shot down to her clit and made her clench her slick walls all around the girth that stretched her beyond belief. She threw her arms around his neck and bounced on his dick with an off-kilter rhythm, as if the Crossroads Man was still figuring out how to work the strange form he was in.

"So wet… tight..." he huffed, pumping himself into her.

She soaked his lap with the pent-up arousal she kept between her thighs waiting for him to return. It wasn't the reunion she imagined, but she took it hard and fast. Loud gushy sounds rang in her ears, listening to the splashy sounds in her pussy and the heavy slapping of her ass cheeks on his muscular thighs. High John played with her breasts again, and she sensed an internal struggle by watching his eyes blaze into hers. The conjure man wanted a taste, and she knew for sure the entity she fucked now was not Erik. It couldn't be. The feeling was different. The hands on her breasts and the tongue on her ripe nipples were foreign to her skin.

Lulabelle hollered in his ear as he pounded her pussy, slapping her ass as he took what he wanted from her. She let him, indulging in the forbidden touch of High John.

"We have to leave… now…" High John's voice returned, and Lulabelle pretended like she didn't hear him, wanting to feel that heavy dick carve unfamiliar territory in her pliant pussy.

"Fuck me, Daddy," she grunted, slamming her ass down on his balls, wanting him to feel all the harlotry she planned on giving him.

She kissed him, licking and biting on his big lips to make him open his mouth so she could rest her tongue in the maple-scented wetness.

"Oh, my damn!" High John screeched, losing full control of the situation.

His hand fumbled with the driver's side door and a gust of humid early fall air gusted around them. He moved out of the car with Lulabelle still stuffed with his dick. His pants fell around his shoes as he corrected his balance. She wouldn't let go of him, sucking on his neck and whimpering for more thrusting of that big meat. Tears dampened her eyes as she begged for more pumping.

"Give me some more, Daddy," she pleaded, purposely not saying anyone's name.

The squelching of her pussy told her Erik was back in the driver's seat. He spun them around and plopped her on the hood, drilling her folds like there was no tomorrow. Watching her titties bounce as he hunched and hollered her name gave Lulabelle joy. She scraped her nails on his nape and cooed his name into his big lips.

"I'm finna cum," he yelled.

"It's your pussy!" she encouraged.

She didn't know if it was Erik or High John. Didn't matter no way. Her pussy was plowed to smithereens and ready to receive.

"You like how it feels?" she purred.

Erik grabbed her throat and pushed her down on the hood.

"Fuck me harder… harder… lemme feel all that big dick!" she demanded.

His eyes burned holes into her skull, but the face looking at her was High John. The conjure man's lips slammed on top of hers and kissed her breath away.

She felt the hot spurts of semen against her walls. It warmed up her insides as his dick pulsed with a prolonged orgasm.

"Lula!" he groaned, flicking his fingers across her clit.

"Cum in this tight pussy!"

Her walls throbbed all around his dick from the bottom of her pussy. She lifted in time to see her opening grip and release with a rhythmic throbbing that made her whimper for God. The damp curls of her pubic hairs were beautiful against his wild bush of dark moist pubic curls. He grabbed her breasts again to hold them once more as he shot one last coating of cum all over her walls.

Hot, sweaty, and spent from the exertion, High John pulled his fat dick out of her pussy. His ejaculate pooled out on the hood. She squeezed as much of it out as possible, and he groaned at the amount spilling all over the car. Wiping his face, he reached for his pants like a drunk man trying to dress.

"Got no time for this shit… gotta find this niggas's body," High John grumbled.

Lulabelle slide down the hood and fixed her dress. With no panties on, the air tickled her naked vulva. She fastened up her bra again and caught her breath. High John regarded her with his own lust, not Erik's. He was in control again.

"Gotta find Elizabeth and see if she found his body," he said.

"Where should we look for her?"

"The crossroads," High John said. "Get in the car."

She crawled back in, and he slipped in beside her. He started the car and drove carefully out of the woods.

The crossroads were empty, only moonlight high above, and the distant sound of The Midnight Ramblers at her juke joint met them there. High John stomped around and peered in every direction before stepping to the center that joined all the directions together. He kicked around some dirt and rested his hands on his hips.

"He loves you," High John said.

Lulabelle stared at him with a curious expression.

"That's the only way they got him. If he didn't love you, then the root they put together to bind him wouldn't have worked. Love is a powerful spell, Lula. An incantation that holds hearts together takes two to manifest the conjuring," High John said.

He looked at her with soft, knowing eyes.

"They probably would've fooled me too," he said, winking at her.

He gazed all around him.

"I figure… they moved into these parts and wanted to grab people roaming around late at night. Drunk. Confused. Not paying attention to the signs. Someone who regularly fed Erik might've missed a night making an offering to him. It weakened the veil and made him come look-see when bodies were found here. Can't nobody resist a pretty girl pretending to be lost. Not even a drunk man. Even a woman looking for her wayward husband would stop to help another woman in trouble. They get caught, and the hag rides their body for… draining them of energy and the will to live. Geechee came to see what was going on and a demon pretending to be you seduced him with a binding spell. Stuffed his essence in a jar for Sadie to keep. Buried him somewhere…"

His eyes glanced behind her.

A glowing ball of yellow light bounced above a thicket of kudzu.

"There she is," High John said.

He ran toward the light, and Lulabelle followed him. The kudzu was thick and High John yanked on it at the spot where they saw the light. She helped him, and they found a decaying lump of plant matter and unsettled dirt. Dragging their hands through it, Lulabelle squealed when they discovered Erik's body stuffed in a hole. She brushed the soil off of his suit and wept as she helped High John pull him out and lay him flat on his back.

"Erik," she said, stroking his moldy and mottled face.

The stench of decay was sickly sweet, and she covered her nose and mouth once they took in the full reeking of the decomposing form. High John stuck his fingers in Erik's mouth and scooped out more dirt. He wiped his nose too, and Lulabelle looked up to check the placement of the moon. It was still high in the night sky.

High John widened Erik's lips and covered his mouth with his own, vomiting the liquid he swallowed from the jar down into his throat. The retching sounds almost made Lulabelle puke, and she turned her head, pinching her nose from the powerful odor of sulfur. She looked over at Erik again when High John sat back and wiped his lips. They waited.

Nothing happened.

"Are we too late? Is his body too far gone?" Lulabelle asked.

High John looked worried, and he stood up and paced among the kudzu. An hour passed. The sounds of the woods at night gave Lulabelle the creeps, but she felt safe with High John. When another hour passed, she couldn't hold her tears back.

"Come on, man. Get your ass back here!" High John shouted.

He slammed a fist on Erik's chest. Despite that, nothing happened.

"We were too late," Lulabelle whined, wiping her eyes.

"Nah, his body is still good enough to restore."

"Then what's wrong with him? Use your mojo bag, cast a spell on him or somethin'!"

"Calm down, woman," Erik said.

Lulabelle placed her hands on his chest and watched him blink the dirt out of his eyes.

"It takes time to get acquainted with the body again. Always wanna rush people," Erik teased.

He sat up and dirt dropped from his skin all over and his face filled with his beautiful ruddy brown coloring again. She helped him stand, and he brushed off his clothes and shoes. He held out a hand for High John and they clasped palms and bumped shoulders.

"Came right on time," Erik said.

"Lulabelle was a big help. She found you before I did," High John said.

She stood between them feeling sheepish and a little embarrassed thinking about what had transpired between the three of them earlier.

"I got 'em trapped at Lula's juke right now. We best hurry back before the barrier I put around the place wears off. I got no choice but to take the hag down there. Couldn't do it until I found you, though.

"Understood," Erik said.

They trotted back to High John's car, piled in, and rushed over to the juke. The noise from inside seemed louder, and the dancing and partying going on shook the foundation.

"Go in through the back," High John said.

They snuck around the side and entered the rear with stealth. No one paid attention to them except for Eva, who fried up the last orders of fish and chicken for the night. Her eyes grew wide at Erik being with them, and Lulabelle held up a finger to her lips, warning her not to say anything. Erik went to the kitchen sink and rinsed his mouth out and washed his face. Lulabelle poured him some whiskey, and he took the glass and gulped down the contents. He leaned over and kissed her lips. She closed her eyes and accepted the warm, smooth feel of his mouth over hers. High John handed Erik his hat that he hung up in the kitchen.

"Keep that down so they won't recognize you in the crowd," High John said.

Erik pulled it down low, and they listened to the hard partying.

"This place is on fire," Eva said, monitoring High John. "These people are eating and drinking up everything!"

Lulabelle could see the dollar bills Eva was adding up with her eyes, thinking about all the money they were making.

"People are so busy in the juke, they barely going to the Loving House," Eva said.

"Go on out there and stay in the back. Lula, let Sadie see you so she'll think you've been here, but stay away from her," High John said.

The conjure man stared at one of Eva's cupboards, then waved his hand at Lulabelle.

"Go on, get out there," High John ordered.

Lulabelle grabbed Erik's hand, and they squeezed through bodies. She shook one hip and waved her hand at customers as if she'd been making the rounds as usual. Sadie sat perched at the front table near the band, and her girls were still half naked and urging debauchery everywhere. The people obliged with lusty kissing on the dance floor, and fingers groping and grabbing partners in their seats.

Lulabelle called out a loud, "Hey girl!" to Gertie Mae, who had sweated out her pin curls and make-up. Streaks of pancake foundation dripped down her drenched face as she sang a bluesy, slow drag. Her eyes connected with Sadie, who smoked a cigarette with a long cigarette holder, blowing smoke circles at the piano player. Lulabelle pretended to roll her eyes and moved through the patrons to the back. Erik kept his head dipped low as they scurried and hid behind the standing audience.

For the first time in months, Lulabelle could relax with Erik pressed into her back. He threw an arm around her chest and felt on her breast openly. No one cared. Their gazes were stuck on Gertie Mae and listening to her moaning lyrics. She leaned her head against his chest.

"I thought you left me and found someone else," she said.

She didn't have to speak louder than the music because his keen hearing could pick up the softest whisper from her lips. He rested his back against the wall, and she clung to his arm.

"I'ma go wash up back at the Loving House. Change clothes," he said.

She gripped him tighter.

"Don't worry, I'm here. You're here. Can't trick me with my real woman," he said.

He kissed her forehead and pushed through the throngs toward the hall. She circled the juke and collected money from Honey Boy who looked dizzy from all the business.

"These men are finally heading to the back," Honey Boy said. "Thought them hoes from the woods would leave soon, but they are hunkering down for the night. That Sadie ain't left that table yet. She don't dance or nothin', just watches her women and smokes."

"She ask about me at all?"

"Nah. She likes her moonshine and people gawking at her hoes."

"I bet," Lulabelle said, stuffing the money down her bra.

The juke was sweltering, with so many people bumping up against each other. Erik met up with her in the back wearing a fresh suit that she kept pressed and ready for him in her room. He held her close. His touch was electrifying on her skin. They swayed to the slow drag and before she knew it, he had her dress hiked up her waist in the back while he unzipped his clean pants. Her lips made an "O" as he took her right there in the crowd, their eyes transfixed on nothing but The Midnight Ramblers. Erik gripped her shoulders and thrust in and out slowly. His balls slapped against her clit and her body jerked to his pacing.

"You enjoyed fucking High John a little too much," he growled in her ear.

Her eyes watered from the stretching his dick gave her walls, and he was not kind about letting her catch her breath as he stroked faster in her pussy. He slammed a hand over her mouth to keep her from moaning too loud. The cacophony of music, call and response shouting at Gertie Mae, and Erik's hot, heavy dick beating down her wet slit with no mercy had Lulabelle mewling and crying softly with too much stimulation. His dick was thick enough to make her clit tug down on its own without his fingers stimulating it. He wouldn't let up, digging his heels into the floor and thrusting into her until she was almost on her tippy-toes. Her pants were loud in her own ears against his hand, and she creamed on his dick with a sudden loss of control. His erection swelled and his grunt of satisfaction pushed a flood of cum into her that weakened her knees. He held her up and whispered in her ear.

"When this is over, I gotta punish that pussy. You know that, right?"

She whimpered, and he spanked her ass, covering her cheeks back up with her dress.

"I ain't like how you acted in that car and out of it. Didn't even say my name like you usually do. You liked fucking his body," he said.

"I was fucking you," she said.

The gleam in his eye and the smirk on his lips told her he thought she was lying. He gave her a fat smooch on her cheek and slid his tongue in her ear and around the shell.

"Were you?" he whispered.

Lulabelle rounded her shoulders and avoided eye contact. High John stepped out of the kitchen and she shivered, thinking about him sucking on her titties while she bounced on his fat dick. All three of them kept watch over Sadie and her whores.

"Night Lula!"

Lulabelle held a hand to her chest, trying to calm the tightness there and the shortness of breath as she watched the last of her patrons leave her juke. She waved at the man who called out to her, the piano player, and kept her eyes on two of Sadie's demon whores who were topless and lounging on chairs near the stage.

Sadie herself sat at the piano, tickling the ivory, keeping her sultry eyes on Lulabelle. Honey Boy took the last of the cash she collected and headed out to the Loving House to check on the girls and rest. Eva slung a coat over her shoulders and lifted a covered plate of chicken from the bar counter and bid Lulabelle goodnight as her husband waited to scoop her up at the front door. She left a bag on the counter, waving for Lulabelle to ignore it as she walked out with her man. The last stragglers headed out and finally, they were alone with the hag and her ladies. Erik slinked away from the wall and took off High John's hat. Sadie squinted and stood up once she realized it was Erik. The hag snapped her fingers and her women jumped up and stalked across the dance floor toward the entrance. Lulabelle glanced at High John and he checked for the moonlight through the window. He grinned.

Sadie and her women came back in, the barrier blocking their exit from the premises. Erik pulled Lulabelle behind him and she stayed near the wall.

"Ain't nobody here now. Might as well show yourselves," High John said.

He pulled out his mojo bag and sat it openly on his chest. Erik moved next to him and flexed his fingers before pulling out his switchblade. Sadie checked the juke to make sure no one else was around.

"Why not?" she said.

Sadie's face puffed out like a bullfrog again, and she stripped out of her dress and underwear, revealing a gorgeous body that split and twisted, turning itself inside out until her skin fell to the floor in a wet splat at her feet. Without her skin, she was a walking, red, glistening wound. She grinned, and everything inside her mouth was black. Lulabelle couldn't see a tongue or teeth anymore. The whores behind her shed their phony skin and dropped to all fours, snarling and gnashing vicious teeth looking like hell hounds skinned raw, the lean muscles in their bodies a wet scarlet nightmare as their claws clacked across the wood floor.

Lulabelle couldn't turn her head away from the horror in her juke and a chill dragged along her spine as she sincerely wondered what High John and her Geechee man looked like under their skin.

"No tit for tat boys? We get undressed and y'all stay pretending? That's not fair at all," Sadie said with her midnight black mouth.

Her eyes were still seductive and sinister. She turned toward Lulabelle, and Erik stepped forward.

"I would love to ride you gal, then put your shiny little soul in a glass jar," Sadie said.

"Don't look at her, Lula. Turn your head, baby," Erik said.

She did as he said so she wouldn't be hypnotized again. He lunged for the hell hounds, distracting Sadie. The demons attacked Erik, but he cut them with his razor, deflecting their snapping teeth as much as he could. The hag jumped on his back, whipping her head back and forth as she gripped his chin, yanking it back.

High John sprang into action, snatching the hag's skin off the floor and running with it to the counter. He stretched it open on the bloody wet side and dumped the contents of the bag Eva had left behind all over it.

Sadie shrieked when she noticed his actions and jumped off of Erik. He continued fighting and cutting the hell hounds that gave off the smell of burning flesh. High John stepped away from the counter and allowed Sadie to pick up her skin. She shook it and cursed High John, throwing her outer covering back on. It sizzled and burned her flesh, and she clawed at her skin, enraged and frightened.

The hell hounds flopped around the floor like they were having convulsions, and black acidic foam bubbled out of their mouths, filling the room with the stench of burning rot. Sadie clawed at her once beautiful face.

"You motherfucker!" she screamed at High John.

Erik ran to the conjure man and High John poured the contents of the mojo bag into the Geechee's hand. Erik balled his hand into a fist, blew through a small hole he made on the side of it, then slammed his hands together. There came a loud clap of sound that reverberated like thunder and Lulabelle could never be sure if she saw what she saw, but The Crossroads Man, her beloved Erik, stole the moon from the sky, reached right through the juke window behind the stage, and plucked it with his fingers, replacing it with the sweet sugary colors dawn.

Sadie shrieked again and fled out of the juke, breaking through the screen door and tumbling down the steps with a roar pouring out of her wicked mouth. Lulabelle ran to the entrance and watched the hag head for the woods, but it was too late. Sunlight pierced holes through her body and she sparked up like a human torch, her flesh scorched into black ash that floated to the morning sky. One last horrid screech sounded from her lips before she vanished in front of Lulabelle's eyes.

"My God today," Lulabelle whispered with wide eyes.

She turned back into her juke and the hell hounds had vanished too, leaving no trace behind. High John wiped his hands.

"Eva's salt trick don't work on me, but Miss Sadie sho did go out like a whiny bitch!" High John said.

Erik laughed at him, and both men slapped hands and shook their heads.

"Hags always have a bad habit of leaving their skin out in the wrong places tryna be tough all the time," Erik said.

Lulabelle could only stare at them, mouth agape, and her thoughts jumbled with all the terrifying sights she'd seen in nearly twenty-four hours. She tossed a weary hand up at them both.

"I'm going to bed. This shit… this was too much," Lulabelle complained.

"Oh, you ain't about to do no sleepin'," Erik said.

Lulabelle stopped and put a hand on her hip.

"Whatchu mean?"

"Told you already. I'm 'bout to be knee deep in that pussy. Go on back there and get naked. You gotta make up for the disrespect," Erik said.

High John snatched his hat from the floor where Sadie had knocked it off of Erik's head. He placed it back on his own head.

"Guess I'll just mosey along then. Come see me Geechee when you done with her. I'll be waiting over at the crossroads. We got work to do," High John said.

"You ever gon' give that conjure man his body back?" Erik said.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I kinda like it. What you think, Lula?" High John said.

"Don't be askin' her 'bout nothin', man. Take that shit back. I don't want her looking at that face again."

"Scared of some competition, I see."

"Whatever, man. Take that nigga his shit back so he can do his work."

High John sucked his teeth at Erik and winked at Lulabelle.

"Sure y'all don't need me to watch?"

Erik raised a fist. Lulabelle grinned.

"Tell the truth, Lulabelle, was all that hollerin' you was doin' for me or him?" High John asked.

"Goodbye High John. Close the door behind you," Lulabelle said.

Erik stuck out his tongue at High John.

"So ungrateful. I'll be waitin' on your ass," High John said.

High John looked into the corner of the juke and tipped his hat to nothing she could see.

"Thank you for your help, Elizabeth. You are a true friend to these two," High John said.

"Tell her thank you for me, please," Lulabelle said.

"She heard you," High John said.

He strolled out of the front door and politely closed it for Lulabelle.

Erik spanked her ass.

"I'ma start with those big thighs first. Then I'll lick and kiss that juicy pussy with my sweet jewel at the top…"

Erik nuzzled his face against hers. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Is it true that you love me?" she asked.

He kissed her softly and rubbed her shoulders.

"Yes."

"That's what got you in trouble," she said.

"One time. Won't ever happen again."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"What will happen to those jars they left in that house?"

"Nothing. I'll pour them out and release their souls to heaven at the crossroads."

"Will you ever show me what you truly look like?"

"No. Your human eyes couldn't handle it."

"So I'll never see you?"

"Not until you're an old woman and you pass on. Then I'll guide you to the other side of the veil."

He kissed her again, and she admired all the gold in his teeth.

"You'll stay with me until I die?"

"Or until you get sick of me."

She shook her head and pressed her face against his neck, smelling his skin and feeling his warmth.

"I won't ever get sick of you."

He spanked her backside, and she yelped.

"Lulabelle, Lulabelle… time for us to go to the Loving House," he teased.

She threaded her fingers with his and thought of all the things she wanted to ask him about turning night into day and loving her so much that a hag could trick his ass into a jar. He tugged on her hand and she walked beside him across the rickety creek bridge. He slipped a hand under her dress and fingered her folds, slipping two digits inside of her as she walked slowly for him, letting him watch her big ass jiggle while he worked her pussy.

When they reached her soft, lumpy bed, she forgot about the moon, the sun, and the shiny mason jars. All she saw were stars in her eyes as she raised her big legs high to the sky, letting the Crossroads Man make love to her again, and again, and again….

Part 1 "Ice Cold Jax" HERE.

A.N.:

Aaron Pierre is my new face claim for John the Conqueror. I had someone else originally, but it's fun to switch up. Basically Killmonger and Terry Richmond tag teaming in this. This sequel was also written as a birthday read for @soufcakmistress in 2022.

[erikftglitter]

Ch 1 | The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife

Killmonger AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

“Hey Dr. Stevens. It’s Kari. I just wanted to thank you again for the kind gesture.”

Erik read the message several times before exuding a deep sigh. He had spent most of the night trying to forget the younger woman, but the universe was setting him up for failure.

She’s practically in our hands, Erik.

He wanted to silence the overbearing thoughts from flowing but he couldn’t help but to also think that it was true. Didn’t he deserve the woman and kids that Kari, and so many others, mentioned to him before? Did he really want to commit to dying alone in a world like this?

“No need to thank me Kari. Thank you for not contacting the board about our collision.”

Erik found himself humored with his own response. Little did he know that Kari was gushing from the desk chair that she was texting from. Could this be? She wondered if the doctor would really be interested in seeing her again. Well, seeing her under normal circumstances.

“I won’t…. Only if you allow me to be your tour guide.”

Kari was persistent, inexperienced, but persistent to get the ex-SEAL out of the house. She surprised herself with her forwardness but the clock was ticking and her local blue-collared men were no where near as appealing as Dr. Stevens.

“A man of my word, that I am. Saturday?”

Erik needed to be strategic about his decisions moving forward if he wanted this woman to live. His self deprivation was starting to take a toll on him. He knew that it wouldn’t take long for it boil over once Kari was in his presence.

Just thinking about the girl’s astonishing aura and utter beauty made Erik’s dick jump yet again. What was it about her? He thought back to the initial moment when they locked eyes. She could not maintain eye contact and that certainly enamored him. He could spot a submissive woman quite easily.

Not just someone who was infatuated by the idea of being dominated by him, but someone who was completely meek. Someone who would be most compliant tied up and fucked to the state of oblivion. Kari Evans radiated that. Erik was 99% percent that his declaration of the girl was correct but he’d be patient enough to find out.

“Yes. Wear comfy shoes.”

Erik was more than pleased to return back to work. To focus on a ruptured appendix, or to remove someone’s gallbladder, or even just to guide one of his residents through a hemorrhoid surgery, supplied him a reasonable amount of distraction time. During surgery his main focus was his performance efficiency. Dr. Erik Stevens did not kill patients. One of the reasons the he remains one of the highest earners in the nation is due to that. Erik knew his limitations and typically did not engage in anything that would kill anyone, inside and outside of the operating room, post departure from the Navy.

“Dr. Stevens. Got a minute?” Erik glanced up from his seat at the computer and signaled for the man to continue.

“I was looking over Mrs. Gutierrez’s files, the one who was just transferred, and she’s rejecting the transplant.”

Erik’s face fell into a deep frown. In only his three months at Oregon State Hospital, he’s noticing the consistent errors being completed by the competing hospital. Once their team botches a surgery; Erik and his team are left to clean up the mess.

“Another transplant this soon would kill her before the week ends. Contact her family and consult about the removal. If they wait then the sepsis will spread.”

Erik looked at the extent of the damage on the results that his resident provided. He’s not completely successful just because of his own experience. Thankfully Oregon welcomed him with a skilled team upon his negotiation and he was provided with them when he arrived. He wasn’t fond of many people in his life, but some of his team made his job rewarding.

“Great call.” He murmured to himself. He learned from his mentor, that learned from his mentor, and so forth, that praising young professionals too early made them arrogant. Made them incompetent surgeons who overlooked misplaced sutures, mistreated nurses, and failed to remain at the peak of their performance. The younger surgeon reminded him of himself. That was as respected as he could be.

Kari on the other hand was not having a good time. One of her middle schoolers thought it was a great idea to climb a tree and ultimately suffered a great fall. Why? Kari didn’t have the time to asks as the girl was soaking blood through her jeans.

With trembly hands, Kari used her walkie talkie to call for an ambulance and tried her best to soothe the hysterical girl.

“It’s okay. I got you.” Kari must have repeated that a thousand times before the first responders arrived.

“Ms. Evans. Nina will not cooperate unless you ride with her.” Principal Grant said to Nina as she stood up to disregard the abundance of bloody tissues.

“Don’t worry about the sub plans. The parents would like if you accompanied her as well.” He gave her an empathetic look. “Thank you for being one of good ones.” He whispered when Kari was helped in the ambulance by the first responders.

It was true. Kari was an extraordinary educator. Each of her students were individualized. She knew their strengths, allergies, their personalities, and their ability to learn. Because Caber City’s public school system was barely funded by the state of Oregon, most of teachers were underpaid. Most teachers married rich and taught for a hobby. The students rarely got the opportunity to experience a memorable relationship with education, but Kari made it her mission to change that.

Because she was young and unmarried with a strong sense of change, she was immediately disliked by her coworkers. She grew to pity their lives instead of watching in sorrow. Her students had the highest grades, standardized test scores, and overall success. That was no coincidence and it didn’t go unnoticed. If Kari wasn’t good at anything else she knew that she was a wonderful teacher. Years of watching and modeling her grandmother instilled that in her. She remembered her everyday.

“What’s going? How’d this happen?” Kari met the frantic parents as soon as she arrived at the hospital.

“During her lunch hour she wandered off to a tree and fell several feet from the ground.” The gasps from Nina’s parents troubled Kari. She hated bad news and bad things in general.

“I’m very sorry that this happened. I’ll go now, but I wanted to ensure that Nina was safely taken to the hospital.” Kari spoke again. Not really sure what else she could provide to these poor girls’ parents.

Nina’s mother spoke again. “Thank you for riding with her. She hates hospitals and probably would have passed out if she had to go alone.” Even though the shakiness, Kari understood every word. These were the moments that made her restless nights worth it.

Kari reached her hand to Nina’s mom, and looked at both parents, “She’s a very sweet girl. They’ll take great care of her.” With her final comment she began to frantically rush out the hospital herself. She hated hospitals just as much. With the amount of dried blood on her own clothes she knew that it wouldn’t be long before her own panic attack started.

Kari didn’t care about who she was running past, she just knew that she needed fresh air before she began to hyperventilate. The memories of finding her own grandparents in pools of blood haunted her. Drunk drivers collided with their car and drove away, killing both of the people who raised her.

“Kari?”

“Oh shit. Kari. Breathe.”

“Breathe.”

Erik took in the scene in front of him. There was no way this was yet another coincidence. This was going to be the one that one that Kill was going to play with.

With guided breaths and some gentle touches of encouragement, Kari was able to control her breathing. She’s not sure when she realized that it was Dr. Stevens she had been talking to, but at least it saved her the embarrassment of passing out in the middle of the road. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she was in the doctor’s proximity.

Between the wails of her student and the acquisition of her own trauma, she didn’t have much time to think about Erik.

“It’s alright Kitten.”

—

@ladymac82 :)

[bennydwight]

What's your favorite part of Two Kids and Their Cars Au? I just recently discovered it and I love it!!!

Ahhhhhh I saw all your notes on my TKATC pieces and you made my daaaay!!! ❤ I'm so glad you like it!

My favourite part of the AU (and possibly what put the idea in my head in the first place) was the potential for both Stan and Steven to grow and develop as emerging adults by interacting with each other. The Summer Job AU touched on their relationship a little, but since Stan was so much older there was a different sort of caretaking dynamic. I loved the idea of a very world-wise, action oriented boy kicked out by his family playing off a sheltered child soldier who's incredibly in touch with everyone's feelings except his own. Then, there's the double-protection angle, where they're both so used to shielding others from damage that neither know what to do when suddenly being shielded by someone else.

Two emotionally immature (yes, even Steven) teenagers who butt heads over differing upbringings/ideologies/worldviews, but choose to stay together and face the world head-on anyway. Polar opposites on the outside, but more alike than even they know.

Wow I really love the potential. 🥰

[666godsperfectidiot]

Making a Steven universe x Cherik au thing

Charles is either gonna be a human or a lapis

And Erik is gonna be a taaffeite gem

[galatially]

❝𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐈: 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐬 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, fingering (f receiving)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — just for tonight, let me be someone else. someone larger than life and impervious to pain like the pain he gave me; what's a few drinks and a chance encounter with a familiar stranger to a heartbroken girl?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 1.3K

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — i was rereading this and got nostalgic so here y'all go lol

The bass thrummed through your veins.

Tequila and whiskey emboldened you as you swayed your hips in time to the beat, your hands high above your head. You felt the stares from the men and women around you, basking in them. 

Tonight, you transcended. 

Beneath the red and blue lights, you were a different person. You weren't the girl that found her boyfriend screwing another girl on your living room couch. You weren’t heartbroken and you weren’t angry. No, in the heart of the dance floor, curls wild and free, Y/N Y/L/N was invincible. 

An ethereal being amongst humans. 

You felt a presence behind you, hands finding yours hips. Warm air tickled the shell of your ear. “What’s a sweet thing like you doin’ dancin’ alone?”

A breathy giggle bubbled from your lips, one of your hands reaching behind to cup a broad shoulder. “I’m not ‘lone. You’re here.” You ground your ass against the front of his jeans, the skirt of your skintight dress cresting above your hips. His cologne made your head spin and your belly flip. 

His teeth caught your earlobe. “Keep grindin’ like that and I’ll take you right here. People be damned.”

The warning sent a delicious shudder up your spine. “Promise?”

His chuckle rumbled low in his chest, reverberating against your back. Lips trailed the curve of your neck and hands held you firm against the growing tent nestled between your barely covered ass. “That turn you on, baby girl?” Teeth nipped at your sensitive skin. “You want me to fuck you in front of all of these people? Ruin this pretty pussy?” 

A thick digit wedged between your thighs, playing at the soaked thong clinging to your lower lips. A strained groan left his mouth. 

“You’re soaked, baby. That all for me?”

Your breath caught. When the last time someone turned you on like this? Had anyone ever turned you on like this? You bucked your hips back against his hand, soft mewls tumbling from your plump lips. 

“Want me to fuck you with my fingers, pretty girl?” He pushed the fabric to the side and pushed three digits into your sopping cunt. The strangled moan lodged in your throat was guttural, almost pained. He wrapped his free arm around your front and held you firm against his chest. “Be cool, baby girl. Wouldn’t want the whole club knowin’ I’m knuckles deep inside you.”

You tucked her bottom lip between your teeth and gave a weak nod. Your skin was on fire and you could feel your nipples stiffen. “Fuck.”

He worked you slow, his thrusts slow and tortuous, stretching you out deliciously. Your first orgasm slammed into you and made your knees buckle. 

You put a hand against his chest. “Wait, wait. We need to stop.”

“You sure?” He removed his fingers, leaving you hollow. “We could take this somewhere private, if you want.”

The invitation was tempting. Damn near irresistible, even. You could be this girl for tonight and in the morning, you’d turn back into a pumpkin. No longer the enigmatic princess in the wild, but the pauper that had to figure who she was again. 

Who were you now that everything you knew was a lie?

You turned to face your sexy stranger, your features canting into confusion. 

“Erik?”

His brown eyes widened. “Y/N?”

Even through post-orgasm hazy eyes, Erik Stevens looked like a god, as if deities bore him from sculpted clay. You went to the same university, shared some Gen Ed classes your freshman and sophomore year. Sometimes you even struck up conversations about classes. His reputation as a love ‘em and leave ‘em type far preceded him, but, at least with you, he was smart and sweet and funny.

Besides, you were already spoken for at the time. But it didn’t mean that you never noticed him.

Your face warmed and canted into a frown. “Fuck.” You pulled down the hem of your dress and pulled a fallen strap back up your shoulder before turning on your heel. If you weren’t sober before, you sure as hell were now.

“Y/N! Wait!”

You cut through the crowd, quickly dodging curious drunken glances as you hurried to the bar. You put a hand up to signal to the bartender, Scott.

He tipped his chin and leaned over the edge of the bar, yelling over the booming bass. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you answered, nodding. “Can you cash me out and grab my stuff for me?”

Scott gave you a thumbs up and disappeared to the other end of the bar. Before you could look over your shoulder for Erik’s tall frame, the bartender reappeared, your items in tow. 

You slammed down a few notes and threw him a two finger salute.

“Whoa, whoa, Y/N! Everything okay?”

You hoped the smile you gave was convincing enough as you hurried out of the club. The cool breeze kissed your cheeks, carrying the loose curls framing your face in its wake. Tears burned in your eyes, your chest heaving painfully. “Fuck!”

Of course. 

Of fucking course!

Of all the people you could’ve rebounded with, it just had to be Erik, one of your ex’s friends.

Your mind raced with questions: did he know the girl Theo was with? Was she around when you weren’t, draped over his lap while he hung out with his boys?

Were you really the last person to know?

You pulled out your phone and started requesting an Uber.

NOTIFICATION: Your driver, Amelia, will be arriving at 1:45 AM

“Y/N!”

You held in a groan, not sparing him a glance as you spoke. “Nope. We’re not doing this.”

“So I’m just supposed to pretend nothin’ happened in there?” His hand curled around your bicep. “Look at me.”

You snatched your arm out of his grip and turned to face him. The quick movement made your world tilt and your legs buckled. Where you expected to be intimately introduced with the asphalt, you felt a warm mass against your shoulder. You took in a deep breath and looked to Erik, your face warm. “Thank you.”

He nodded and helped steady you. “You gon’ stop runnin’ now?”

“Erik, we can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” you deadpanned. “Theo’s your friend.”

Erik tightened his jaw. 

You crossed your arms and turned away from him. “Just forget what happened. Please.”

“Can I wait with you until your ride gets here, at least?”

You lifted a shoulder and kept your gaze on the street. You anxiously glanced down at your smartwatch for notifications, debating whether you should’ve called your friends to come get you instead. 

“I’m not his friend.”

You blinked and turned to him, startled by the sudden conversation. “What?”

“Theo,” Erik clarified, “I’m not his friend. More like a friend of one of his other friends.”

You looked over at him. “Why are you telling me this?”’

“Because you’re actin’ like I knew what he was doin’.”

NOTIFICATION:Your driver, Amelia, is pulling up now. You will have five minutes before Uber charges you a waiting fee

“I don’t care if you did or didn’t know about Theo cheating on me, Erik. I don’t care if y’all are friends. The fact that we almost — ” You blew out a breath. “You’re an adult, Erik. We both are. So whatever we do or don’t do shouldn’t concern the other.”

“I’m just sayin’ that — ” 

A black Sedan pulled up in front of the both of you, cutting off his words. 

You glanced at Erik over your shoulder. “Thanks for hanging back with me.”

He nodded, a tight smile on his lips. “Get home safe, yeah?” 

You nodded and ducked into the back driver’s side seat. As the driver pulled off from the curb, you stole one last glance of Erik standing on the sidewalk. 

“He a friend of yours, ma’am?”

“No. Just someone that I know.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — to date, the beginning of this fic is the most out of pocket i've ever been and i'm proud of that lol

[tom-whore-dleston]

jordan turns 25

hey siri, play my birthday playlist...

hello and welcome to my online 25th birthday party!! I hope you all got your dancing shoes on bc we're gonna party like it's 1999 iykyk xD we all know how much I love to party, but even the life of the party has to lay down some rules. Please click the keep reading button for more party information:

House Rules

This is an adults only party! You must show some indication that you are 18+

Any minors, blank blogs, ageless blogs will be blocked

You are welcome to participate in multiple party activities but please send one ask at a time

The party is open to all followers and non-followers ❤️ again, as long as you are 18+

Please do not send requests regarding the following:

non-con, smut with minors (all parties will be aged up), pregnancy/baby/child fics, a/b/o, bathroom kinks, incest, step-cest, foot fetish.

Please be patient with your response. I cannot guarantee I will respond in a timely manner however I can do my best.

The party begins April 4th (my official birth date) and ends April 30th

Party Activities

Social Hour: ask me anything about me and my life on/off tumblr

BYOB: share one of your creations (fanfic, art, moodboard, gif, playlist, original writing) and I will share your amazing talents with others

Party Games: cym, fmk, wyr, smash or pass (with any hottie not listed)

Arts and Crafts: select a hottie + scenario/AU/trope/prompt** and I will make a playlist/moodboard/fic (please specify the creation you are requesting)

see prompts tag for ideas/inspo; please indicate the post the prompt is from

VIP Access: mutuals only! send me your fave hottie (doesn’t need to be on list) and I will create a ship moodboard based on how I imagine your relationship with them

RSVP'd Hotties

Marvel: Loki Laufeyson, Xu Shang-Chi, Frank Castle, Peter Parker (any variant), Wanda Maximoff, Erik Kilmonger, Scott Lang, Thor Odinson, Sersi, Thena, Sam Wilson, Pietro Maximoff (Age of Ultron), Joaquin Torres, Bucky Barnes, Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley, Layla El Faouly, Adam Warlock, Gamora, Kate Bishop

DC: Harley Quinn, Pamela Isley, Jaime Reyes

Star Wars: Din Djarin, Anakin Skywalker, Poe Dameron

The Bear: Carmy Berzatto, Luca

Bridgerton: Anthony Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, King George

Misc: stereotypical!Barbie (Barbie 2023), Tangerine (Bullet Train), Joel Miller (The Last of Us), Soldier Boy (The Boys) 

RPF: Harry Styles, Jensen Ackles, Will Poulter, Danny Ramirez

Early Bird Invite tags

@inklore @psychedelic-ink @fluffyprettykitty @buckets-and-trees @witchywithwhiskey @mothdruid @mochie85 @navybrat817 @jobean12-blog @vonalyn @goldylions @wintersoldierdarling @wint3r-h3art @buckybleu @blackbat05 @neganwifey25-blog @give-me-a-moose @yummymatcha @ozarkthedog @hollandparkersx @mrs-illyrian-baby @jen-with-a-pen @late-to-the-party-81 @little-diable @undutchable11 @littlestatesman @tonystarksfavoritedaughter

[sageispunk]

main masterlist

updated: 1/20/24 | ⭐️ smut | 🐚 fluff | 🥀 angst | 🖤 dark |

✦ the bear (hulu)

'might be' - Richie Jerimovich x f!reader ⭐️

The first time you meet 🍃 dealer Richie.

'he finds out ur a squirter' - Richie Jerimovich x reader ⭐️

Passionate missionary with bf Richie talking you through it.

'looking ahead' - Richie Jerimovich x reader ⭐️

Richie can't help but to watch. Even if you didn't mean to leave your door open. (dubcon)

breeding kink drabble - Richie Jerimovich x reader ⭐️

Richie can't wait until you're finally knocked up with his baby.

✦ they cloned tyrone

'drown in it' - Fontaine x black!reader ⭐️

He makes you squirt on his face. Happily.

NSFW alphabet - Fontaine x black! reader ⭐️

The ABCs of Fontaine's love.

'eyes on me' - Fontaine x black! reader ⭐️ (Ao3)

You're a little too interested in Fontaine's weapons.

✦ rebel ridge (2024)

'anointed' - Terry Richmond x black!reader ⭐️

When he eats you through the panties.

'red lipstick' - maintenance man!Terry Richmond x black!OC ⭐️

Don't let your husband stop you from finding the love of your life...

'wetter' - Terry Richmond x black!reader⭐️🐚

[shower sex, sub!Terry]

✦ the usos

'told you so' - Jey Uso x black!OC Ravyn ⭐️

[infidelity, teasing, crazy dirty talk, rough sex]

'belongs to another' - Jimmy Uso x black!reader ⭐️🐚🥀

[friends with benefits, infidelity, weed use]

untitled - Jey Uso x black!reader ⭐️

[alcohol use, groping, teasing]

✦ triple frontier

‘too divine’ - Frankie Morales x f!reader ⭐️

Riding Frankie after a long night out.

✦ marvel

'just one more' - Matt Murdock x f!reader ⭐️

Matthew is out of town but you still need him. (Ktober prompt: phone sex)

'wriggle' - Erik Stevens x black!reader ⭐️🐚

[roommates, teasing, tickling kink]

✦ the last of us (hbo)

'what u need' - Joel Miller x f!reader ⭐️

Teasing Joel underneath a table in a bar sometimes leads to getting ruined on the side of the road.

'melting' - Joel Miller x f!reader ⭐️

Joel wants to try something new. (Ktober prompt: temperature play)

'sticky' - Joel Miller x f!reader ⭐️

Joel wants to learn. So you let him. (Ktober prompt: squirting + masturbation)

'inside'- Joel Miller x mistress ⭐️🥀 (Ao3)

When the cat's away, the mice will play.

✦ how high (2001)

'what's it gonna be?' - Silas x black!reader ⭐️🐚

When two friends finally get a night alone...

'as nature intended' - Silas x black!reader ⭐️🐚

[weed use, hairy coochie praise, breeding kink mention]

✦ formula 1

'foolish' - Lewis Hamilton x black!reader ⭐️🥀

Cause I can't seem to break away from your foolish love...

✦ misc.

'control' - Max Phillips x f!reader ⭐️

Drinking with your boss goes differently than you'd planned. (Ktober prompt: sex pollen, thigh-riding, forced orgasm)

'4/20' - Terrance Coin x black!reader ⭐️🐚

[weed use, neighbors to lovers, age gap]

'sweet dreams' - Gustavo Fring x reader ⭐️🖤 (Ao3)

When Mr. Fring finally gets his hands on you...

✦ series & AUs

'the first taste' - vamp!Lewis Hamilton x black!reader ⭐️🐚🥀🖤

What do you do when one night just isn't enough?

'all the way down' - Clifford Smith x black!reader ⭐️🐚🥀

When a night of spontaneity spirals into a full-blown affair out of your control.

'crush' - blackfem!OCs x black!OCs⭐️🐚🥀

Oneshot series based on each song of Ravyn Lenae's Crush EP.