#erik johnson smut

[eightmakar]

nsfweekend!!!

hello hockey tumblr it’s been a hot minute so let’s have a smut weekend! starting today, March 17th and going until Sunday, March 19th!

the Rules:

18+ only, please!

reblog this post if you’d like to help get the word out :)

send me a prompt + a Man

or send me your latest smutty thoughts

or your headcanons

anything let’s be Sluts

i write smut for:

cale makar

nathan mackinnon

mikko rantanen

erik johnson

artturi lehkonen

jt compher

tyson jost

ryan graves

andre burakovsky

prompt lists:

smut prompts

inexperienced smut prompts

sexy situations

sexy chirps

happy slutting!

tagging people:

@taking-shots @hockeylvr59 @harlowhockeystick @flashyfucker @jostystyles @jostyriggslover96 @burkymakar @fallinallincurls @cale8makar @jamiedryssdale @equallyshaw @capsvsducks @hockstuff @matbaerzal @mikkorantanev @holy-pucks @graves-makar @corneliaskates

[misshoneyimhome]

The One Without the Teeth I Erik Johnson☆

[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.

[snugglebug-92]

Masterlist and Prompts

Who I Write For

Prompts

Fluff

Smut

UMICH

Nolan Moyle 

Adam Fantilli

Frank Nazar

Philippe Lapointe

Steve Holtz

Mark Estapa

Ethan Edwards

Luca Fantilli

Johnny Druskinis

Rutger McGroarty

Dylan Duke

U of M

Jimmy Snuggerud

NHL

Florida Panthers

Mackie Samoskevich

New Jersey Devils

Luke Hughes

LA Kings

Erik Portillo

Columbus Blue Jackets

Nick Blankenburg

Kent Johnson

Buffalo Sabers 

Owen Power

San Jose Sharks

Thomas Bordeleau

Vancouver Canucks

Cole McWard

Quinn Hughes

[wyattjohnston]

all fic | universe | gifs | exchanges

(alphabetical order by team, then by player)

updated: 1 Feb '25

* = contains smut

boston bruins

charlie mcavoy

kiss it better now

jeremy swayman

if you only knew

calgary flames

joel farabee

fell in love with you in stages

carolina hurricanes

andrei svechnikov

kinda hope they catch us

tyson jost

it’s me & you

out of ten

this is getting good now (series of one shots)

chicago

taylor hall

better at leaving* & i just keep coming back to you*

colorado avalanche

gabriel landeskog

‘til you give me all your love

nathan mackinnon

the second time

you always did feel just like home

dallas stars

jake oettinger

the saddest thing i know

roope hintz

no sound worse than silence

tyler seguin

ain’t no sunshine (#1, #2, #3, #4, #5, playlist)

edmonton oilers

jeff skinner

your eyes look like coming home

kasperi kapanen

let's get these wheels in motion*

leon draisaitl

lock in your love

florida panthers

matthew tkachuk

don't want to miss you like this

you gotta kiss somebody (sometimes)

montreal canadiens

cole caufield

just between you and me

josh anderson

what am i to you?

nashville predators

nick blankenburg

need a little company (series + one shots)

new jersey devils

dougie hamilton

i’ll bet you didn’t even know

jack hughes

make it weird

we all have our secrets

we don't have no time to waste (series of one shots)

nico hischier

late nights in the middle of june (series of one shots)

not perfect (but we were)

turbulent

new york islanders

mat barzal

all eyes, they're on you (series of one shots)

uh oh

new york rangers

chris kreider

toward a feminine sea

philadelphia flyers

erik johnson

only all the time (series of one shots)

travis konecny

take me as i am (series of one shots)

pittsburgh penguins

anthony beauvillier

into moonlight (series of one shots)

kevin hayes

got a hold on me* (series of one shots)

how those rumours fly

ryan graves

never saw you coming

to hold your hand (would be the bravest thing)

seattle kraken

andre burakovsky

dreamer (just like you)

we look good together*

jamie oleksiak

my picket fence

your eyes look like coming home

st louis blues

colton parayko

open your heart to me

toronto maple leafs

mitch marner

give the stars something to watch

morgan rielly

sache que je serai la tienne (series of one shots)

william nylander

let's get these wheels in motion*

vancouver canucks

brock boeser

and i had silly dreams

take you one day at a time (series of one shots)

elias pettersson

been a long time coming

jake debrusk

stay forever

quinn hughes

closer than i ever even knew

let's finish what we started

until the light shines through

vegas golden knights

noah hanifin

the one who needs saving

washington capitals

nicklas backstrom

give up the game

pierre luc dubois

never said a thing

tom wilson

in the shadows & still want more

winnipeg jets

adam lowry

breaking all the rules

[mthofferings2023]

Lady Gigi

See Lady Gigi’s existing works here.

Preferred contact methods: Email: jijikero@yahoo.com Twitter: LadyGigiArt Discord: LadyGigi#5001 DeviantArt: jijikero

Preferred organizations: - Anything from the list of approved organizations

Will create works that contain: Genderswap (F to M), MxM platonic/romantic relationships, Peter Maximoff (Evan Peters), canon, canon-divergent, historical/movie/books/no powers AU, mutual pining, miscommunication, angst, happy ending, domestic/slice of life, fantasy, getting together, established couple, love confessions, first kiss, first time, hurt/comfort angst, dark, mpreg, omegaverse, furry, dubcon, non-con, themes, most kinks/BDSM, incest, SFW, NSFW

Will not create works that contain: Genderswap (M to F), sexual acts with minors and animals (Rocket being the one exception), hetero pairings, FxF pairings, Pietro Maximoff (Aaron Taylor Johnson), bodily waste kinks, food kink, dismemberment/extreme gore, death, mech/machinery, x-ray vision

  -- Art --

Auction ID: 1035

Will create works for the following relationships: Bucky Barnes/Any - Any Universe Logan/Any - Any Universe Loki/Any - Any Universe Peter Parker/Any - Any Universe Remy LeBeau/Any - Any Universe Stephen Strange/Any - Any Universe Steve Rogers/Any - Any Universe Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - Any Universe Tony Stark/Any - Any Universe Wade Wilson/Any - Any Universe

Work Description: I'll create one 1-6 panel(s) A3 size (11"x17") pencil comic page with digital lettering and simple backgrounds of two male characters (for Character/Any: one Marvel male from the relationships listed above and the other male from ANY universe even outside of Marvel if you want). Digital file will be sent by email. If the auction exceeds $75, then the comic page will be inked traditional (digital can be requested but will take longer to complete). If bids exceed $150, then a page will be added (additional pages added in $100 increments at $250, $350, $450, maxing 6 pages at $550). If bids exceed $350, then the pages will be colored in Photoshop. If somehow bids go over $550, then another male character can be added. References such as pictures, descriptions of the clothes/poses/settings, etc. would be extremely helpful but specifically noting the desired universe—while I specialize in comic/anime/manga/chibi, I can imitate other art styles. You can write the dialogue or you can leave it to my discretion. Also, I may be a smut creator, but I do enjoy drawing comedic and wholesome stuff too. After the auction, please reach out to me with a description of your request before the new year (when I will start the request). If this is won by a pod bid, then please have all the details (comics-wise, who's paying for shipping if they want a page and who gets what page) ready by 2024 as well. I will provide a very loose rough draft and allow one round of edits/revisions. After the pages have been completed, the original pencil/ink drawing can be mailed at the auction winner's expense if requested (cost to be confirmed).

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

-- Art --

Auction ID: 2024

Will create works for the following relationships: Bruce Banner/Any - MCU Edwin Jarvis/Any - MCU Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier - Any Universe Hank McCoy/Any - Any Universe Howard Stark/Any - MCU Quentin Beck/Any - MCU Rocket Raccoon/Any - Any Universe Pietro Maximoff/Any - X-Men movieverse Ultron/Any - MCU Jeff the Land Shark & Loki - Any Universe

Work Description: I'll create one 1-6 panel(s) A3 size (11"x17") pencil comic page with digital lettering and simple backgrounds of two male characters (for Character/Any: one Marvel male from the relationships listed above and the other male from ANY universe, even outside of Marvel if you want). Digital file will be sent by email. If the auction exceeds $75, then the comic page will be inked traditional (digital can be requested but will take longer to complete). If bids exceed $150, then a page will be added (additional pages added in $100 increments at $250, $350, $450, maxing 6 pages at $550). If bids exceed $350, then the pages will be colored in Photoshop. If somehow bids go over $550, then another male character can be added. References such as pictures, descriptions of the clothes/poses/settings, etc. would be extremely helpful but specifically noting the desired universe—while I specialize in comic/anime/manga/chibi, I can imitate other art styles. You can write the dialogue or you can leave it to my discretion. Also, I may be a smut creator, but I do enjoy drawing comedic and wholesome stuff too. After the auction, please reach out to me with a description of your request before the new year (when I will start the request). If this is won by a pod bid, then please have all the details (comics-wise, who's paying for shipping if they want a page and who gets what page) ready by 2024 as well. I will provide a very loose rough draft and allow one round of edits/revisions. After the pages have been completed, the original pencil/ink drawing can be mailed at the auction winner's expense if requested (cost to be confirmed). For Rocket/Any, I would love to draw Rocket/Capwolf.

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

-- Art --

Auction ID: 3009

Will create works for the following relationships: Bruce Banner & Clint Barton & Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark & Thor - MCU Frigga & Loki - MCU Madisynn King & Wong - MCU Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker - MCU Nick Fury & Talos - MCU Jeff the Land Shark-centric - Any Universe Bruce Banner & Hela & Loki & Thor & Valkyrie - MCU Edwin Jarvis & Howard Stark & Tony Stark - MCU Peter Parker & Peter Parker & Peter Parker - MCU, TASM, Spider-Man (Raimi trilogy) Floor & Lylla & Rocket Raccoon & Teefs - MCU

Work Description: I'll create one 1-6 panel(s) A3 size (11"x17") pencil comic page with lettering and simple backgrounds for ONE of the ten ships listed. Digital file will be sent by email. If the auction exceeds $100, then the comic page will be inked traditional (digital can be requested but will take longer to complete). If bids exceed $200, then a page will be added (additional pages added in $150 increments: $350, $500, maxing 5 pages at $650). If bids exceed $350, then the pages will be colored in Photoshop. References such as pictures, descriptions of the clothes/poses/settings, etc. would be helpful but not necessary. You can write the dialogue or you can leave it to my discretion. Also, I may be a smut creator, but I do enjoy drawing comedic and wholesome stuff too. After the auction, please reach out to me with a description of your request before the new year (when I will start the request). If this is won by a pod bid, then please have all the details (comics-wise, who's paying for shipping if they want a page and who gets what page) ready by 2024 as well. I will provide a very loose rough draft and allow one round of edits/revisions. After the pages have been completed, the original pencil/ink drawing can be mailed at the auction winner's expense if requested (cost to be confirmed). For the Jarvis & Howard & Tony prompt, I'll draw kid Tony.

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

The auction runs from October 22 (12 AM ET) to October 28 (11:59:59 PM ET). Visit marveltrumpshate.com during Auction Week to view all of our auctions and to place your bids!

[tonyspep]

Hi! So I got matched to write your fic for the summer fic exchange 2k24. ☺️

I was wondering if you could maybe provide some small prompt ideas so I can get a feel of what you’d like and what you’re into.

Also saw you would like to read fluff, smut and AU, did you have anything specific in mind? I saw you’ve reblogged quite a bit of grey’s anatomy (loveee) would that be something you’d be into? Also will you provide me with your top 3 players you’d like for the fic to be about?

Some other questions:

- Do you have a stronger preference for reader insert or OC?

- What are your favourite tropes to read?

👋🏼

hi!!! i'm so excited to see what you write for me!!! i know whatever it is, it's going to be great and i'll love it!!! omg i'd love a grey's au that would be amazing lol. some of my favorite tropes are friends to lovers/omg they were roommates/grumpy x sunshine. my top three players would be erik johnson, jack hughes and elias pettersson. it can be reader insert or an oc whatever works for you, i'll be happy either way 🩷💓💘

[ao3feed-hockey]

invisible string

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/qz3f8IM

by deniedbyjarry

In which Gabe is a genius and Nate and Cale fall right into his trap.

Words: 2200, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Men's Hockey RPF

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Nathan MacKinnon, Cale Makar, Gabriel Landeskog, Erik Johnson, Artturi Lehkonen, Mikko Rantanen, Valeri Nichushkin

Relationships: Nathan MacKinnon/Cale Makar

Additional Tags: Getting Together, Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Anal Sex, Praise Kink, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, gabe is a great wingman, Fluff and Smut

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/qz3f8IM

[eightmakar]

12 inexperienced w ej 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

side note - my first time off anon whoa

hello person who i've definitely never spoken to off anon

shameless plug go read kasey's new fic born to love you!

12. “I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”

posting nsfweekend blurbs - thanks for all the requests <3

at dinner, every time one of the guys made a sexual joke about you and ej, you blushed. you'd grown up very sheltered, and had less than no experience when it came to dating when you met ej, and despite how horny he always seemed, he cared about you, so he was very patient.

when you got home, you and ej collapsed on the couch. you didn't realize the effect your soft, mindless circles you drew on ej's thigh had on him. he shifted uncomfortably, but you continued on with your motions until erik finally spoke up.

"are you trying to get me hard? because it's working."

"oh," you breathed, blush rising to your face. "i didn't mean to."

"i can't believe you're this innocent..."

you frowned. "is that a bad thing?"

erik leaned in to kiss you, then slowly moved your hand over to his dick. "no, that just means i get to corrupt you."

[fallinallincurls]

first happy tumblrversary i'm so happy you're here and that we connected you're one of my best friends ever and i love talking with you and coming up with ideas 💗💘💓🌟👑 your writing is amazing and i have to request with ej (of course) the prompt "shut up" and they smirk and say "make me" BECAUSE WHAT'S MORE EJ THAN THAT?????

I LOVE YOU!! thank you so much & so happy to have you in my life as always!! <3 hope you like this and it lives up to the ej expectations (since you're the expert)!

we've got some 18+ themes here but nothing explicit!

"ej, we are not doing this here!" you exclaim, voice a hushed whisper as you try to push against his chest with no such luck of moving him. "your teammates and their families are downstairs. no way."

"that's never stopped us before. remember when we went home for christmas and my-" erik starts, that playful glint you know and love so much appears in his blue eyes.

"stop! i don't need to be reminded of the incident that happened in minnesota. that was bad enough and somehow we still got away with it. but this is different." you argue, pointing a finger at his chest as if to make a point. it doesn't work.

"how? this is our house. we can do whatever we want."

"there's little kids down there! linnea, lucas, bennett. we can't corrupt them, ej. that's terrible. and not for nothing, you aren't very quiet so facing the questions would be even worse."

"hey, you like it when i'm loud." ej fires back in a teasing tone, ignoring the rest of your argument as his large hands start traveling across your body. "last time i checked-"

"shut up." you say with a laugh. the words are practically an automatic response now that you're dating ej. you don't think you've ever said that phrase more than you have since being with him.

but you know what you just started. erik doesn't back down from challenges and now this isn't going to end anytime soon.

ej leans in closer to you with that ridiculous but charming smirk on full display across his lips. his fingers tighten on your hips, sending a wave of heat to your core and you try desperately to hold onto your stance of not letting this happen with guests here.

"make me." he murmurs, the tone of his voice full of challenge. those blue eyes are twinkling with mischief and when you hear the delightful sound of laughter mixed with the clinks of dishes and utensils from downstairs, you make a decision.

one that will definitely shut erik up.

"promise to be quiet?" the question surprises erik, who eagerly nods in response. he has no idea what's about to happen.

you lean in to kiss him, soft and tender with a little bit of need, and ej smiles against your lips. slowly, you let your hands wander and before he can really process it, you've sunk to your knees in front of him.

"ohmygod, babe."

"ah, gotta be a quiet, remember? in my experience, this is the best way to shut you up. only following through on what you said."

bre's three year tumblraversary!

[elliotsgrl]

the way i can barely find any fics about black characters and always always ALWAYS find fics for white characters, even the dusty ones that look like gremlins, just goes to show how racist and colorist this platform is fr. and 🖐🏻 ppl always complain when black folk write about black readers. why wouldn't they? there's no space on here for them to feel seen. at all.

[flashyfucker]

dont even know how this came in my head but this is literally consuming my brain omg i want to ride mean ej in a hottub SO bad. maybe after all our friends have gone inside and its dark out with some fairy lights hanging around the porch so its dimly lit… him calling me a slut for taking him out in the open like that when our friends are just inside.. him the next morning making not so sly comments about the hottub needing to be cleaned..yeah. i need it.

wait yea.

and ur kinda like trying to shy away from it, make it less obvious. tryna bury your face in his neck, get real close so it's like.. a hug or something, like maybe if someone noticed, they wouldn't fully know. but ej's pulling and pushing at your hips, practically bouncing you, and as he realises you're not being loving, you're being shy, he pushes you back and tears your bikini top off and holds your arms behind ur back so you cant cover yourself while he fucks you like "why would you wanna hide these tits?" and "don't you wanna show off how good you are at riding dick?"

and maybe when you get a little mouthy, he's flipping you so you're kneeling on the seat, nearly bent over the side, fucking you from behind so there's no mistaking exactly what's happening if anyone so much as glances outside :)

also feel like he wouldn't be above being entirely unhinged the next morning. outright admitting it like "oh we fucked in the hottub btw so prob change the water maybe lol" while ur choking on your breakfast lmao

[happer08]

glancing at each other's lips / brushing your lips together, lingering for a moment

thinking something like that with nate … like you’re both trying not to kiss, maybe you’re “not supposed to” for whatever reason ….. but keep catching eye contact / can’t help lingering on each other’s lips etc etc until one of you/both of you break

hope you feel better :)

you and nate knew if you were all over each other youd hear it from ej and gabe for the rest of the night. which was definitely wasnt something either of you wanted especially for the cup celebration at ejs house. every time you looked up from your beer nate was looking at you, his eyes tracing over your face rubbing his lips together or licking his too pink too soft looking lips. despite an agreement you both made before leaving the house it sucked. "you have to stop looking at me like that" you mouthed at him. nate gave you confused look then shrugged turning to mikko again. the longer the night went, the more alcohol consumed the harder it became to stay away from nate and the glances he was throwing your way. eventually you pulled away from the wags and jt and headed toward the house past nate. "meet me inside" you whispered putting a hand on his hip before walking away toward the house. you waited in the kitchen, your arms crossed over your chest till the patio door opened once more then closed. "fucking finally" nate huffed walking across the kitchen with his hands out reaching to cup your face. he pulled your face to his pressing his lips down hard in a hungry kiss, something that had been brewing since you got out of the car and walked into the party. you moaned into his mouth grabbing at his shirtless form for something to hold onto while his lips worked over yours. "should have done that much sooner" nate smiled pulling back. just as you were about to answer you heard a loud wolf whistle from behind nate. "fucking ej"

[tonyspep]

hi! it’s your winter fic exchange anon here! :)

i wanted to touch base with you before i begin writing!

1. Do you have a particular player you'd like me to write about from your list, or are you open to any of them? Is there one player you're particularly interested in at the moment? Here’s your list of players as a refresher (Erik Johnson, Tyson Jost, JT Compher, Nathan Mackinnon, Auston Matthews, Mitch Marner, Tyler Seguin)

2. You mentioned that you’re interested in fluff, smut (18+ only), alternate universe, reader insert or oc. I'd love to know if you have a particular preference for any of these six options. If you're interested in an alternate universe, is there a specific one that you'd enjoy?

3. What pronouns do you prefer for the fic?

4. Would you prefer your fic to have a holiday theme or not?

5. Are there any topics that you prefer NOT to be in your fic?

6. Is there anything I didn't ask about that you think is important for me to know?

i’m so so so excited to write for you and i can’t wait to see your answers!!

Hi!!! This is so cool!!! I'm so happy that you're excited to write for me!!! I can't wait to start my own fic and to read the one you're writing for me. I know I'll love it. The player I would like you to write for is Auston Matthews. The fic can totally have a holiday theme and if you can write it as friends to lovers, that would be great. The pronouns you can use are she/her and if you want to do it with an original character that's fine, but a reader insert works, too. However it flows for you, I'll be fine with either one.

Thank you so much for reaching out and for writing this fic for me!!! Have a wonderful holiday season 💚🤍❤️💙🩷💗💓💘💕🎄🌲🎁🎅

[kniesyswrld]

[horsesandhockeyplayers]

Fourth Line Grinder-- Part 10

Author’s Note:  This beautiful header is courtesy of @whatishockey​ and her brilliant creative mind. We continue with ALL NEW content as EJ and Nell figure out their relationship. Please see the masterlist post to see the 2018 Eddie Read Stakes.

TW: Nell being stupid

Word Count: 5082

Word Count TOTAL: 60,332

Song: Dark Horse - Aaron Watson

Synopsis:  Nell Sayer, often called The Witch for her ability to heal horses that are deemed lost causes, is content with her life. With a job where she makes a good living and her two best friends, Nell is unprepared for the changes a meeting with a once-in-a-lifetime horse and his incorrigible owner brings, knocking her off her feet…literally. If only she were as good at listening to her heart as she is at listening to the animals she loves.

Tag List: @laurenairay, @danglesnipecelly, @hockeylvr59, @whatishockey, @thebookofmags, @princessphilly, @glassdanse, @tippedbykreider, @iangiemae, @kotkaniemi-caufield-mom, @marcoscandellas, @mac-blackwood, @fanficrecsby-e

Part 10

Like many days when my alarms went off in the morning, I was laying on my stomach and there was a heavy weight sprawled across my back. We had been staying in a one bedroom suite at the Le Méridien, because Erik wouldn’t hear about staying at a motel, and our room overlooked the track (I didn’t think that was accidental).

The lights of Arcadia gave the room a muted glow and there was a deep grumble against my shoulder blade as a long arm reached over to the night stand to silence all the alarms. “Peaches, you have literally never overslept since I’ve started sleeping in your bed, why do you have 40 alarms?”

I sighed, the bed was so comfortable and I was so warm being pressed into the memory foam by the 240lb defenseman. “Just in case.”

Long strong arms slipped between me and the mattress of the gods, taking me with him as he rolled over and I was laying completely on top of him. “Five more minutes,” he grumbled into my hair.

Five more minutes turned into 30 and 3 orgasms for me and as EJ hopped up and made his way into the bathroom, suddenly full of pep, I was pretty sure I was going to melt into the bed because I didn’t have bones anymore.

When I accused EJ of being a La-Z-Boy horse owner I didn’t realize how correct I was.

“Erik, you own or partially own like 70 horses. How do you not know how to put a halter on?” I had unwrapped Grinder’s legs when we arrived at the track and after a short walk for him to stretch his legs, I was squatting by his legs rewrapping the standing wraps for the 2 hour trailer ride south.

“Most trainers prefer it if you aren’t hands on.” He was watching me wrap the horse like I was going to ask him to do it, but he was going to have to practice on one of the outrider horses for a while before I let him get near his winning racehorse.

“You have a 200 acre horse farm in escrow. How do you expect to run the place?” I finished the leg I was working on and moved to the next one.

“Hire people duh.” His voice was distracted as he was trying to put a halter on the very patient mare stabled next to Grinder.

“And what if everyone gets sick and you have to feed or clean or something?” I was mostly giving him a hard time but if you lived on an equestrian facility there would always be instances where you needed to handle horses.

“Make sure I don’t piss you off so you’re there to help.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed.

Dawn was just starting to chase the night away as I pulled onto the 210 to make our way across Southern California before the world woke up. EJ had called it and the trailer had two of Dick’s other horses on it and one of Doug’s. The rest would be shipped down a few days later and as I sipped bad gas station coffee I was relatively proud of the fact I had only yelled at Erik once.

***

The stress that plagued Dick’s barn at Santa Anita had melted and everyone was relaxed and joyful at Del Mar. I loved hacking Grinder bareback around the track in the evening hours as the cool breeze off the Pacific cooled the coastal town. I had even ridden him to the beach. Seeing a racehorse parade through town might be considered commonplace in Europe but it wasn’t in California.

Dick had pitched a fit but I had gone on a long rant about the healing properties of cold salt water and eventually his eyes glazed over and he just waved his hands and walked away.

Erik had gone off on some golf trip with friends and it had been a point of contention for several days.

“You could come, you know.” He tossed some shorts in his suitcase. I’m not sure why he insisted on packing this way, he tossed things haphazardly into his bag and then took everything out again and refolded it with precision.

“But Grinder and work….”

He gave me a dry look, “Carlos will take excellent care of Grinder and Mikey is at Del Mar for the next week, I bet he’d even ride the horse on the beach for you.”

“It’s just a lot of money.” I chewed a cuticle. My bank accounts had never been so padded. I probably could have gone on 5 vacations without worrying about money.

I got another withering look, “You know you never have to pay for anything right?”

I returned it, “You know I’m always going to want to pay my way.”

He set to folding all his clothes, “And I know you have enough money to go on this trip with me, you’re just making excuses, but Nell, you can sit on a beach with a Mai Tai and not feel guilty. You know that right?”

“I know. It’s not that.” I lied.

Erik rolled his eyes, “Yeah sure it isn’t. Go to fucking therapy, Jesus.”

I recoiled at his uncharacteristically harsh words, “What the fuck?”

“I want a partner in life, Nell. That means sharing the things I do, including traveling.” He zipped the suitcase closed and set it by the bedroom door with more force than necessary.

“Newsflash Erik, when you have a FARM you can’t just pack up and leave whenever.” I was pissed now.

“Actually, hiring competent people means I can do *exactly* that because for eight months out of the year I will be travelling most of the time. And no one is sick, no one is about to foal, the horses are literally fine, Nell and Grinder’s next race isn’t for another two weeks.”

“Exactly! I need to be here!”

“No. You don’t. You’re choosing to be here instead of going with me.” He pulled the phone out of his pocket, “My car is here. I’ll call you later.”

“Don’t bother.” My words echoed against the beachy tile of his condo, and he sucked on his bottom lip for a moment as if he was thinking of a retort but instead he just shook his head and headed out the front door, slamming it behind him.

True to his word, Erik had called. And called. And called. It has been 3 days and I had sent every one to voicemail.

He left another message and I deleted it without listening to it. His condo felt empty without him and I thought about packing up my things and going to a long term motel, but somehow I knew that would be the final nail in the coffin. Things had once again gotten complicated and I didn’t know how to escape them. It had only been a few months but our lives were so entangled. There wasn’t an exit where we didn’t see each other because not seeing Grinder wasn’t an option for me. I loved that horse.

The french doors onto the veranda were open and the afternoon breeze was gently blowing through the open floor plan condo. The papers I had spread all over the top of the island rustled. It was one of my mandatory days off and other than hacking Grinder in the evening, I wasn’t allowed in the barn so I was rebelling by doing paperwork which included itemizing my expenses, scanning the receipts, and then mailing the hard copies to my accountant. I was now someone who needed an accountant.

The papers had been spread on the island for several hours and my attention kept drifting to the waves cresting, crashing into the beach, withdrawing, and starting the whole process over again. Why did relationships have to be this hard? Were they supposed to be this difficult or was it just a sign that Erik and I weren’t meant to be?

Finally, I gave up and grabbed a White Claw from the fridge and plopped into a teak chair with plush cushions and threw my feet on to the matching ottoman.

It seemed criminal that I was in such a beautiful place and so conflicted. A male voice speaking Spanish came through the door, though yelling was a more accurate description. I didn’t know why Latino men needed to yell at each other on the phone but they did. Jesus was honestly the only quiet one and I suspected that was a defense mechanism.

I heard him grab a Corona from the fridge and shouted his goodbyes and hung up as he settled into the plush lounger next to mine. He was uncharacteristically quiet for a long time as he stared at the ocean.

When he finally spoke it made me jump, “What the fuck, Hermanita?”

Carlos had never spoken to me that way “Excuse you?”

“The gringo says you’re not talking to him and you refused to go on vacation with him.” He took a swig of his Corona and leveled a glare over the rim of the bottle.

I sniffed and faced the ocean, taking a sip of my drink from the tall can before answering, “I fail to see how that is any of your business.”

“He’s paying for my immigration lawyer and he’s done a lot for you and us, I don’t think you’re being fair.

“Is that all you care about? That I keep fucking him so you can become a citizen?” I turned facing him feeling a chill thrum through my body.

“Dios mio, you DO need therapy.” I tried to interrupt him but he held up his hand. “Your papa, he was it for Mama Sayer. When he passed there was a hole in both your lives that Jesus and I could never fill even if we tried. For you that person is the Gringo and anyone with EYES can see it. So pull your head out of your ass.”

I gaped at him like a goldfish, “I can’t just leave for wherever whenever he wants to.”

He gave me an exhausted look, "If you think that's what he's asking eres mas estúpida de lo que pensé"

There was a hum of energy in my ears, “I think I’m going to invite you to leave now.”

“Think about this, have you put both teeth into this relationship,” He asked standing from the lounger.

“It’s both FEET.” I replied, more than a little happy to correct him.

He rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Have you really been in this relationship or have you been looking for a way out since the beginning? What do the white girls say? ‘Daddy Issues’,” he made quotes around the term and I wrinkled my nose. “Get help Nell or you’ll drive away more than just the Gringo.”

When he left the sun was starting to hover over the ocean.

What I hated most, was Carlos was absolutely right.

I picked up my phone and unlocked it, bringing up Erik’s contact. I stared at it for a long time before I finally settled for calling my mom.

“Nelly Belly! I thought you were too busy to talk to me.”

I rolled my eyes, “No, Mom.”

She was rustling around in the kitchen, “Does this phone call have anything to do with the fact that you’re not talking to Erik?”

“Who told you,” I huffed.

“Carlos and then Jesus,” She sounded distracted and then I heard a distinctly male voice.

“Nance, should I open the wine?”

My mouth dropped open, “Mom are you on a date?”

“Yes.”

I couldn’t tell if she was answering the mystery man or me, so I stayed silent. She covered the phone and I heard her muffled voice, “Tom, go ahead and open that white in the fridge, it will pair nicely with the salmon. I’m going to talk to my daughter for a moment.” Her voice came across the 475 miles clear as day then, “Now Nell, what happened?”

Launching into the saga, I barely stopped to take a breath. The sky was fading to purple when I was done.

“Nell, do you remember Dr. Pam?”

“Vaguely, why?”

“She was the therapist you saw after your dad passed.”

A bank of fog was rolling in off the ocean and it was one of the reasons the California coast stayed so temperate, “I saw a therapist after Dad died?”

“Yes, Nelly Belly. You were 8 and your dad died tragically and unexpectedly. Of course I took you to see a therapist. I saw her too for a time.”

My drink was long empty and I swirled the last dregs of the vodka soda around in the can, “Do you think I need to see a therapist now?”

“I think you need to think about what you want in your life and if that is just to work 24/7 with no life then ok. But if you want more, which I think you do, then you need to figure out why you’re pushing EJ away. If he’s not the one for you, fine, but I don’t think you’ll find anyone else half as interesting that will be completely loyal and let you be as independent as you are.” The oven timer went off in the background, “Nell, I have to go, but think about what you want ok?”

I sighed, “Ok. Have a good date with Tom.”

Her smile was audible, “I will honey. Call EJ ok?”

“Ok.”

When the line went dead my phone alerted me to a low battery and I had a reprieve from calling Erik for a bit anyway especially considering he was probably asleep, the waves from a different ocean crashing outside his hotel room.

The air turned chilly as the fog rolled inland and I stood from the lounger and headed inside, closing the large french doors behind me.

Grabbing another White Claw and my laptop, I spent the remainder of the evening researching therapists and online therapy services.

It was well after midnight when I finally made my way to bed and for once I was grateful that I had another day off.

Alone and in the dark, the sound of the waves crashing into the beach floating in through the open window, I unlocked my phone and opened my photos app. Finally, I landed on a photo of Grinder’s win, Erik was kissing me while everyone was still screaming. I had my hand fisted into Grinder’s mane, the other gripping Erik’s arm as he kissed the bejesus out of me. If I concentrated and closed my eyes I could feel his lips against mine.

Before I set my phone on the nightstand, I sent a quick text.

I’m sorry.

*******

Standing on a stool I was attempting to manipulate the gluteal fascia of a very patient, very tall mare when EJ appeared in the door of the stall.

We hadn’t spoken since I sent that text and everything just felt so awkward now.

Erik cleared his throat, “So what’s the story on this one?”

“Five year old, decent allowance mare. Couple hundred thousand in earnings,” I offered with a shrug.

He gave me a thoughtful look, “would she be a good broodmare?”

I blinked, “She’s out of a Thunder Gulch mare by a Giant’s Causeway stud. Nothing to write home about but she would be a good foundation probably.”

He grunted and made some notes on his phone. When he was done he looked up, “Italian or Sushi tonight?”

I hummed in thought, “Italian.”

“I’ll make reservations.”

Just like that the fight seemed to be over and I knew Erik was giving me a freebie. I hadn’t really given him anything but grief since we started dating and well, I felt like shit about it.

A week before the race Dick forbade me to ride Grinder to the beach, so I brought the cold seawater to him. In buckets, in the back of my truck and I soaked his legs. Del Mar really agreed with the big gelding, his coat glowed, he had filled out and developed spectacular muscle and no one would ever guess Erik had picked him up for a few thousand dollars less than 6 months ago. He looked like a champion.

Mikey had taken over riding him full time for his works and I hacked or ponied him in the afternoon.

Erik never brought up our fight during his golf trip again and I had done some research and started an online therapy program. I had video or phone chats with my therapist a few times a week and we had brief texting mini sessions whenever I needed to.

I had just finished one of those mini texting sessions when I put down my phone on the nightstand. Erik was reading the Daily Racing Forum and making notes with a pen.

His glasses were sliding down his nose and I had the irresistible urge to push them up the bridge. Feeling my eyes on him, his gaze lifted and met mine, “Why are you staring, Peaches?”

I lifted my shoulders and let them fall in an exaggerated shrug. The french doors out to the private master suite veranda were open and the sound of the waves crashing into the coast filled the stretched silence.

His phone vibrated on the nightstand and he picked it up, a smile stretching across his face as he read an email. He finally pushed his glasses up his nose with a forefinger and looked incredibly dorky doing so, I couldn’t help but match his smile, “What has you so happy, Handsome?”

“We got the property.”

Putting the racing forum next to his phone, he took off his glasses and set them on top of the pile and pulled me closer to him. “We are now the owners of a horse farm.”

I snuggled into his big body. “I thought they didn’t accept your offer?”

He kissed the top of my head and then picked a hair out of his mouth, “They didn’t because the property had been on the market so long they had leased it. Since we weren’t in a hurry to move in, my realtor worked out a deal where we allow the lease for 6 more months and the details took a while to iron out but I’m going to Denver next week to sign all the papers, will you come with me? You have some things to sign too.”

Stiffening in his arms I looked at my cuticles, “Erik..”

“Nell…” he answered with a sigh.

“You refused to let me put any money into this, so I’m not signing anything.” I picked at a hangnail.

Large hands slid up my arms and one slid into my hair and gripped it in his fist. He pulled my head back, so I would look at him, “Stop being stubborn, Nell.”

I sighed and gave him a hard glare, “I’m not going to co-own an asset I had no hand in purchasing.”

His eyes were tired, “Fine, whatever, I don’t want to fight anymore and everything seems like a fight.”

Fuck. He was right. Pushing the covers down I clambered into his lap, straddling him, “Ok. I hear you. I propose a compromise.”

“I’m listening,” his eyes were wary.

“IF we get married, I will allow you to put me on the deed.”

He rolled his eyes, “Fine, what are you doing on Saturday? I think I can throw some money around and get a judge in the courthouse.”

My fist met the solid rock that was his shoulder and I shook it out, “Ow, I’m not marrying you on Saturday you dork and you know it’s Grinder’s race day.”

“Ok fine, I can be patient, I guess,” he said with his toothless wonder grin.

“Patient!” my protest was halted by his lips. I moaned and melted against him as his tongue swept inside my mouth.

I had taken to sleeping in one of Erik’s tshirts and some simple cotton panties. He broke the kiss long enough to pull the shirt over my head and then his mouth and hands were on me again. He weighed my breasts in his hands as he kissed me and I felt him grow hard beneath me.

Deft fingers rolled my nipples between them and I arched into his hands grinding my hips on him until I felt the head of his cock rub my clit the layers of fabric causing friction.

Moaning into his mouth I changed the angle of my hips trying to rub right THERE.

“Peaches, are you trying to get yourself off,” he asked, breaking the kiss.

I nodded, feeling the euphoria build in my body.

Before I could take a breath my panties were off and he was naked and lowering me onto his erection. Letting me drop, the stretch was just this side of pleasure and I rolled my hips with a small mewling noise. His hips punched up like he was trying to crawl inside my body. He relaxed back against the headboard, “Now get yourself off.”

The delicious friction of the cotton was gone but now I was being stretched and it was an equally scrumptious sensation. I took each of his hands and placed them on my breasts as I rode him. A gasp escaped me as he pinched both nipples and I bucked on his cock. My voice was breathy, “Fuck, EJ.”

He kept the grip on my nipples, forcing the blood from the tips before rolling them again. I bucked again and I could feel the orgasm building. While I kept the pace and he abused my tits, my fingers slid between our bodies to rub my clit.

Erik’s hips started rising to meet mine, “Are you almost there, Peaches?”

I couldn’t do anything except moan as he released my nipples, the blood rushing back into them, as he grabbed my hips and fucked me hard. I came with an emotional cry and I felt him twitch inside me. Large hands held me tight against him, his hips still punching anemically as he came.

Collapsing on his chest I felt the ripples of pleasure hit my body every few seconds like aftershocks and when he finally relaxed, his fingers trailed up and down my spine.

“I love you, you know,” I mumbled against his chest.

One hand brushed the hair away from my face and I felt his lips on my forehead, “I know, Peaches.”

I fell asleep, pressed against his naked body, his semi hard cock holding his cum inside me and I felt any anxiety about our relationship flow out of my body and into the coastal night.

****

On Saturday the sun could barely break through the fog layer of June Gloom. The fog lifted, but it was still overcast when Grinder’s race was called to post.

Unlike his race at Santa Anita, everyone was jovial. I had seen several of his opponents work and I was confident that if Grinder had a clear run, he was going to put the field away with ease.

I had on a simple jersey dress and had dressed it up with some turquoise jewelry The Guys had given me over the years.

With my newfound confidence in Grinder, I was in the owner’s Box with Erik and he hadn’t taken his hand off the small of my back since I joined him.

I wasn’t sure if it was to reassure him or me and eventually I conceded it was a mixture of both.

Grinder had drawn the outside post position and that was perfectly fine with everyone. Mikey had one job and that was simply to keep the big gelding out of traffic and let him run his race.

Without all the pain, Grinder was once again focused on racing and the horse *loved* to run. Workouts had become a challenge because he wanted to race every horse on the track. He was in desperate need of adequate competition or he was going to get bored. Bad things happened when smart athletic horses got bored.

Gripping the box partition, I felt the first flutters of butterflies start in my stomach as I watched Mikey and Grinder make their way to the turf. The statuesque black gelding made the rest of the horses look like Shetland Ponies. At one point he stopped and trumpeted toward the stands as if to say “Hey Losers, watch this.”

The warm up was unremarkable and all the horses loaded into the gate without any problems. The race was as predictable as possible. Grinder broke slow and was several lengths off the pace, trailing the pack into the first turn. He sat there eating the turf with a relaxed, almost lazy stride. Mikey had slack in the reins and the big horse was just biding his time. Halfway down the backstretch he began to close the gap and as the field headed into the far turn he hit another gear and started to pass horses on the outside. The field was good, there were quality horses who were no stranger to the graded stakes races, several had made Breeder’s Cup appearances before and they were trying to qualify again.

I knew I was going to have red imprints around my eyes from the binoculars as I pressed them to my face, like the pressure was going to help me see better. The crowd started to roar at the top of the turn. I could see the minute Grinder decided he was in it to win it. He leapt forward at the top of the stretch, almost leaving Mikey behind and started passing horses like they were standing still. 50 yards from the finish he was alone in front of the front runners and as he flashed under the wire he was still pulling away from his competition.

The description of his win in the next Daily Racing Forum would be “handily.” Even moving up in class, they were no match for him. He had the renowned Pacific Classic next to qualify for the Breeder’s Cup Classic.

The big black horse was barely sweating as Mikey trotted him back to the winner’s circle. EJ pried the binoculars away from my face and put them around his neck, wrapping his hand around mine, “That horse just quadrupled my investment.”

I paused, “What?”

He pulled me out of the box and started making his way to the ground level, “I paid what… $3000 for him? Plus transport costs, training, and you. This win pushed him over the $200,000 mark since I’ve owned him. I’m almost sad he’s not a stallion now. Think of what a foundation sire he’d make for us.”

My mind was swirling trying to picture that much money and I tripped over a discarded tall can. Erik caught me and I tried to pull my hand from his, “Is all you care about the money?”

He gave me a defeated sigh, “Seriously, Nell? Why is everything a fight with you? Of course it’s not about the money, he was a huge investment risk, but I told you from the beginning if he wouldn’t make it on the track I wanted to get him healthy enough for whatever came next.”

It was true, he had said that and I was once again just creating drama, “I’m sorry. I know. I’m just… I don’t know. Too emotional right now.”

Strong thick fingers wove their way through mine and he pulled me into his big body, his voice low, “Half the time I feel like the stereotypical city girl who moved to the country and you’re the wild filly I find trapped in a fence or something.”

“Yeah, I guess I kinda am,” I said, swallowing a smile.

He brought my fingers to his lips, “C’mon, let’s go take a picture with our champion.”

I stood in the winner’s circle for the second time in my life and wrapped my arms around Grinder’s head. He huffed and stood quietly as I pressed my forehead to his, “You did it you brilliant boy.”

It was a little weird not having Jesus there, but Carlos was excited enough for the both of them and I figured I’d just photoshop him into the photo at some point.

Erik had to pry me off of the horse to take the photos and as we posed in front of him, Mikey set his elbow on top of Erik’s head, “Does it ever bother you that she loves this horse more than you?”

The larger man let out a surprised laugh, “No, she wouldn’t be my Peaches if she loved anything more than that horse.”

Carlos muttered in Spanish under his breath and rolled his eyes before waving the jockey off the horse and started taking his saddle off to walk him back to the barns.

The sun was setting over the Pacific Ocean and I was slumped in a camping chair I had set up in Grinder’s stall, nodding off every few minutes.

I felt EJ’s presence before I heard his footsteps over the sound of horses chewing their hay.

The cool evening air was leaving goosebumps on my exposed legs and I regretted not changing back into my jeans.

His hand rested on my head as he knelt down, “You’re cold, let’s go home.”

I sighed, opening my eyes, “I think when we remodel the house we should have a stall in the living room.”

EJ chuckled into my ear as he picked me up. I protested, but weakly, “I can walk.”

His arms tightened around my body, “You never let me manhandle you.”

Grinder took that opportunity to pick up the chair I was sitting in and toss it out of his stall, narrowly missing us.

I reached over and closed the stall dore, sliding the bolt into place and putting a clip on it, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You manhandle me all the time.”

I felt the rumble in his chest rather than heard it, “Well, I like manhandling you. What are you gonna do about it?”

Sliding one of my arms around his shoulders, I ran my fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck, “Right now, nothing,” I sighed.

Smug satisfaction radiated through his body, “Good cause I’m gonna manhandle you some more when we get home.”

I offered a shiver of anticipation.

*******