#panther au

[alieune]

voltron nhl au ✰ .ᐟ by me and @cvrsedly

this is a combination of our joint ongoing obsession with vld and my bestie's hockey brainrot. the team allocation is based off vibes and location and not on paladin colours (rip pidge). close ups of the players below:

[starry-bi-sky]

finally giving fem danyal her own au and fulfilling my 'danny is an animal whisperer' agenda at the same time: mother of monsters danyal 2.0

i say "2.0" because TECHNICALLY 'mother of monsters danyal' is an au I made back in June for Dark fem!Danyal (who I promptly named Layal). However, I haven't posted much for her yet, and I like the "mother of monsters" premise too much to leave it only to Layal. Plus Danyal in that au was going to become the mother of monsters anyway, just with significantly less world domination and mass extinction.

'Animal whisperer' Danny has been something I've been thinking about since my latest DP 'wolfpack au' post and it's! So fun to think about, and who no better to assign the idea to than Danyal Al Ghul? Who comes from a family infamously known for their love of animals and nature?

Fem Danyal is just purely self-indulgent. *gestures wildly at her* i just lomvb,,, her,,,, I've only really mentioned her in context of the 'Things in Threes' au/my first Danyal al Ghul au with the facial scar, but she's!!! I love her. She deserves her own au <33

So kill three birds with one stone! Make a post about it.

Anyways, Danny has a large lair. Similar to cult leader danyal, her lair is a giant mountain region resembling nanda parbat with a big temple/palace-like area built into the mountain. It's large, it's overflowing with natural flora, with its own mini-floating islands hovering over some areas, and it's also completely empty.

Danny takes one look at her lair upon first meeting, -- noting that it looked relatively smaller from the outside -- and promptly, with the elegance of an Al Ghul, goes "What the hell??" Because yes, while she does enjoy her own solitude and privacy, this is a bit ridiculous.

For heaven's sake, there's even a massive lake in there! What's she going to do with all this space? Can she make it any smaller? Why is it so big in the first place? This looks borderline like one of the mega-islands!

She finds out later that apparently, the amount of ectoplasm a ghost has can have an effect on the size of their lair. And since she has such a large core, her lair reflects that. Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, it's bigger on the inside so it doesn't take up "too much space" on the outside. Don't worry about it too much.

Danyal isn't totally opposed to having such a large lair, she's just... a bit baffled by it. It feels like so much wasted space is all. All this flora and no fauna to enjoy it with. It's practically eerie.

She decorates her temple-palace area, transforming rooms to match her needs as she sees fit. In the center of the inner gardens is a massive tree that she likes to climb, with twisting, winding branches. Sam and Tucker have honorary rooms, even if they can't safely leave the specter speeder for long periods of time, even with proper safety equipment. So does Jazz. Ali (Dani) has one too, but he can actually use that one, and Danny brought him to her lair so he could decorate it himself.

She has a personal garden, but for the most part she lets the flora exist as it is. Too much space to cultivate it en masse anyways.

Skip to a few weeks later, on her next visit to Clockwork. She developed a habit of going to see him semi-regularly just because. She enjoys his wisdom, and he has a lot of stories to tell, and when he's not being the cryptic and esoteric timekeeper, he's a bit goofy.

(pushing my dadwork agenda here,,, i think Danny deserves to go 'hey, Lord Clockwork, do you want me to buy you something' while she's at walmart, only to receive a singular glowing sticky note that says 'cucumber gatorade'.)

(She insists on referring to him with his proper titles even for the most mundane of things because it's proper, but Clockwork sees a future where she eventually calls him "Cee" and by all things in existence is he determined to get there. Anyways,,,)

On her next visit to Clockwork, just as she is about to leave, Clockwork stops her and goes; "Ah, I have something for you. Hold out your hands."

Danny does as such, and Clockwork doesn't give out things often, so her curiosity has spiked to the highest levels. He turns away from her for a moment, using his staff to summon whatever it is he needs, and when he turns around.

He drops a fish into her hands. Granted, a fish in a small glass tank. But a fish nonetheless. A small one, roughly about the size of her finger, with a blue-black, eel-shaped body and four sets of glowing eyes. She can see thin, almost translucent, but spiny fins down its back and the start of bioluminescent markings. It's swimming around in circles in its small container.

"Lord Clockwork." Danyal says all too calmly.

"Yes, Danyal?"

"What is this?"

"That is an adolescent leviathan, Danyal." She’s transfixed onto the tank, but she doesn’t need to see Clockwork’s face to hear the smile he’s stifling.

The myriad of emotions that runs through her all at once threatens to overwhelm her, and she can’t tell if the feelings are negative or positive. So she carefully closes her eyes to breathe in through her nose.

“Clockwork.”

“Ah, I see you’ve dropped formalities.”

She ignores that.

“Why have you given me an adolescent leviathan?”

She's expecting the trickster to look amused when she opens her eyes. Instead, he just looks endeared. "I know you're fond of animals," he says, "and you always look amazed when you come across an animal of the realms. So I thought you might enjoy taking care of the young beast, it's mother is dead so it has no one to care for it."

Oh.

"But, if you don't like it," Clockwork's hands reach out for the tank, "I can simply take it back--"

Danyal shifts the tank out from his reach and hugs it possessively. "I never said that. How do I care for it?"

And so clockwork gives her a list, and when Danyal returns to her lair, she sets up a large tank in her room for the leviathan to swim in -- it's much too small for the lake right now, she thinks. She'll feel better if it's somewhere she can find it. She names him Suhā.

Suhā grows quickly, and by the end of the mortal month she transforms one of the rooms into a large pond for him to swim around in. He's a very loyal beast, recognizing her as it's mother of some kind. Danyal takes great care ensuring that her beastie gets quality care, and Suhā swims to the surface to see her when he senses her in the room.

It spirals from there. Somehow, Pandora catches wind that Clockwork gave her a leviathan, and so the next time Danyal visits the Greater Athens, she gives her a baby chimera. It's eyes are still sealed shut, Danyal can't bring herself to say no. She names the little beastie Firas.

Frostbite hears about it too, and not to be outdone, gives her an animal she's never even heard of. Infinite-realms born, apparently. A fox-like creature with two small horns like an impala, four eyes, and tall legs. The name isn't something she's quite sure how to write down, and she's positive that her friends won't be able to comprehend it. She names her Eira.

Getting the three of them used to each other was... interesting. Suhā tried to eat Firas when Danyal first introduced the two, and they've hated each other ever since. Firas and Eira are seemingly getting along. Her island already feels full enough with the three of them on it.

Of course, that's not the end of it. With her luck, she begins stumbling across other monsters. Realms-borne or otherwise. An injured hydra in the Grecian islands that, through lots of trial and error, Danyal is able to rehabilitate and heal. It routinely comes to visit her afterwards.

A griffin with a broken wing that she moves permanently to the island that likes to keep to itself, but tends to come down when she's near. It gets along best with Firas.

A panther-like monster from the Shades Woods that had six legs and three tails, with ends that reminded her of a venus flytrap. It stuck around the heavy foliage and she can only make out where it was when she saw its golden eyes reflect.

She befriends a young indrik with its leg injured, and much like the hydra it follows her back to her island, and stays there in the mountains. It comes out when she's alone, much like her other beasts.

She receives two more leviathan -- one from clockwork, and one she finds herself while exploring the deeper and darker recesses of the Ghost Zone. It was huddled against the carcass of its mother, and she managed to befriend and get close enough to it to bring it back to her island. Suhā is fully grown by then, with a head bigger than Danyal herself and he still likes to stick her head out of the water for nuzzles when she's near.

He's not very happy with his new siblings, but he's not trying to eat them when she's not looking. So she calls it a win in her book.

And it's not just large beasts either; smaller animals begin popping up when she's not looking. Bird-like creatures and small mammals, and she swears she saw a doe (or something resembling a doe) grazing in the forest while she was walking by.

She takes back with her a lone snake egg once, and it grows so big it wraps around her island and sleeps with its massive head on the mountain beside the temple, like some smaller breed of Jörmungandr.

And on and on it goes. Some of the beasts she comes across never step foot onto her island, some of them follow her back, while others she has to carry back. Not all of the ones that follow her stay, and Danny rehabilitates the injured and releases them when they're fully healed.

It's hectic, and busy, and frankly she loves it. Some of her rehabilitated beasts return to visit her, or to have their children somewhere on the island, or whatever it is they need to do.

She becomes a bit infamous for it. She goes to visit Dorathea once, and as she's walking through the streets she can hear some of the denizens whispering while she walks past.

"Is that her?"

"Her highness' friend? Yes--"

"--that's the one--"

"--Mother of monsters--"

Danny's not sure how to feel about that.

Although, she can't say she's opposed.

Danyal Al Ghul, Mother of monsters, raiser of beasts. It has a nice ring to it.

[gomzdrawfr]

Randomly coming in to say I love your bear Price and panther Ghost and hope they get more naps and love. <3

hehe thank you! here's a small panther Ghost wondering into Price's fur for some naps <3

[theredheadedace]

AU where Blake fell with Jaune in the Everafter

Weiss: I can’t believe it’s the Panther Queen and Rusted Knight

Yang: So I guess Blake’s Erotica was right, they were a couple

Panther Queen: (pinching the bridge of her nose with The Rusted Knight giggling) Oh my god

Yang: Wait a minute

Weiss: No way

Ruby: It can’t be

PQ!Blake: (taking her mask off) you girls finally made it.

Yang: oh, so you two are together, hmm. Give me a moment. (Walking outside for a moment.)

Ruby: is Yang going to be-

Yang: NOOOOOO. IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME, WHY UNIVERSE WHYYYYYYYY!!??!!!

RK!Jaune: Well that went better than expected

PQ!Blake: You thought she was going to kill you, didn’t you?

RK!Jaune: a little bit yeah, are you going to tell her we are open it poly or-?

PQ!Blake: In a minute

[gatoburr0]

Auf

Auf indeed

Bonus MEAAAW

[sea-lanterns]

Imagine Orca! Yelan and Panther! Arlecchino fighting over the vet, only for them to silently agree on sharing her because they both like the way she trembles when they get possessive over her.

Oh to be shared between two powerful women who could smite me in an instant if they desired

Vet Reader coming to feed Yelan by the sea and finding that Arlecchino had followed her as well, making her feel vulnerable because now she had two apex predators eying her up like she’s food.

I imagine that Yelan and Arlecchino’s first meeting is similar to Furina and Lynette’s first meeting (except Arlecchino doesn’t bap Yelan on the nose) so Arlecchino just peeks over the edge of the water and watches as Yelan stares back at her with the same amount of interest. They seem to be silently communicating something to each other, but the Vet can’t exactly tell because they’re both such stoic women. Nevertheless, the tension is clear, yet being the mature adults they are, they nod in agreement for something that the Vet doesn’t know about…

Despite seeing each other as mate rivals, they both silently communicate that they enjoy “scaring” their dearest Vet, so expect to find yourself being circled on both land and water, as both women are keen on making you tremble out of fear and something else <3

[mariusageyn]

[literaryavenger]

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

SERIES (3+ parts)

Broken - finished

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Bonus Part

TWO-PART SHOTS

I love you and I hate it

Part 1 | Part 2

Meet the Guardians of the Galaxy

Part 1 | Part 2

Sargeant Grumpy

Part 1 | Part 2

ONE-SHOTS

On Thin Ice - Figure Skating AU - requested

Mornings Like This - requested

Love Is A Battlefield

New Year's Eve

Back To You - alternative ending

Happy Birthday

Birthday Kiss - 40s Bucky

Can I Be Him?

Not So Bad

Sputnik - requested

Obsessed

Stargazing

You Were My Sunshine

Until My Last Breath

DRABBLES

You're Still My Sunshine

Bucky Eating

[ratatatastic]

his face when he says "but weve earned that right so i think we'll take it" and his face reseting after the question because silly time is over we have to lock tf in!!

florida panthers @ la kings (quebec city) | 10.5.24 (x)

he has a delightful face to me

[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.

[spiratorr]

Ms jinxpanther

[dognoodlez]

Pestering.

[saywhatyouwillbut]

i do not personally watch the panthers, the flames, or the oilers, but the one thing i have learned from approximately one week of reading mattdrai fic is that leon is the palace knight on a quest to trace down this rare artifact who gets set up by a guy he has a one night stand with who manages to follow him covertly and steal the artifact out from right under his nose, leaving him to certain death at the hands of booby traps various, only for leon to survive and have to chase him down, catching up to and running into him in many silly and perilous scenarios where matthew (the thief, obviously) keeps accidentally falling into his arms and saying, “we have got to stop running into each other like this”

[gomzdrawfr]

protective over his napping Captain

[rivalswrites]

Monday

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Reader(you) is referred to as ‘Chef’, no appearance mentioned.

Restaurant masterlist

Featuring: Black Widow, Invisible Woman, Mister Fantastic, Black Panther

One of the shorter days when it comes to work, opening the restaurant later in the day after preparation/chores around the place were done.

Even after opening, it takes awhile for the first customer to enter.

The first person to walk in is the ever famous Black Widow, and your pal Natasha. She sits at the counter tops, right by the kitchen, and starts up an easy conversation like you'd both known each other forever.

She orders her usual, a slice of Medovik cake and a cup of coffee. It doesn't bother her that it's premade- if she made you make it after she had ordered it it'd take all day, she wouldn't do that.

Since it's just her, you take a seat and talk to her about what's new. The hottest topic in recent visits being the multiverse obviously collapsing due to the Doom’s. It's really interesting to hear about what she and her acquaintances do to help save the world.

After she finishes up, she takes a moment to watch as you take her dishes and clean them up in the sink before pulling out her wallet and paying. With a brief goodbye from the both of you, she's out the door with a small pep in her step (well, as much as a Black Widow can have).

It doesn't take long for the next customer, or customers, to come in. They're both all smiles when you greet them while walking into the seating area. Reed and Susan always showed up as a pair, never alone.

“Evening you two! Please, take a seat anywhere” you offer, gesturing to the very empty seating.

Susan replies with a small ‘thank you’ before scoping out the best spot while her husband strikes up conversation. “Actually, it's not evening, it's noon. Barely past even” he says, all matter of fact-ly with a know-it-all look on his face.

Susan almost groans at this, almost every time they come here he says that line, over and over. She's quick to grab his arm and drag him over to a booth table, sitting down near the middle with him next to her. Her hand stays wrapped around his arm as you give them menus, much to Reed’s humor as if he doesn't always get the same thing.

“Always such amazing choices, Chef, how this place isn't packed I have no idea” Susan says while looking at the menu, like she doesn't also always get the same thing. It's just polite.

The menus are taken after a moment and back to the kitchen you go to prepare their food. Reed and Susan make small talk about their personal lives and whatever situation they're in. Reed taps at the table while he explains some sort of building process to Susan, while she just leans on his arm and listens happily.

Some time passes and the front door opens, a new customer: obviously. He takes a look around and briefly nods towards the couple, taking his helmet off and standing at the front door for a moment. Taking no greeting as a hint, he takes a menu from the never used host stand and takes a seat across the restaurant to give himself space.

The menu looks different since the last time he saw it, as he doesn't often have the luxury of coming, but all the recipes are still the same.

You come out of the kitchen with a platter in hand, giving a brief ‘hi’ to the new person in the restaurant as you walk over to Susan and Reed.

“Alright, one medium rare steak and strawberry parfait ready to serve. Enjoy you two.” When the dishes are set on the table you walk off to the other person. Reed takes the spoon and dips into the whipped cream and strawberry bits on top of the dessert, taking joy in the sweetness. Susan picks up the steak knife and brutally cuts a slice for her to devour. Nothing like steak for lunch, no?

Standing at the table, you pay the guy on the shoulder, “it's been so long since you've been here, T’challa, how's it been?”

“Work has been constant with the multiverse in collapse” he says, flipping through the menus pages casually, as if he didn't say something that would make a regular person panic. “Ah, you're in on that too? I wonder just how many people do that” a hand rested on your chin as you thought about your genius question.

“Many, many people. Heroes and villains alike” he responds, stopping at a page and pointing at his favorite, “I'll take my usual, please”.

As you take the menu from his hands you nod, “You got it T’challa, give me a few and it'll be out hot and ready” and then you walk back into the kitchen.

The restaurant is quiet, the ambiance is relaxing, soft music plays and the sound of the kitchen adds into it. Conversation from Reed and Susan is quiet, but you can hear them murmur to each other as they eat. T’challa liked the calmness of this magical restaurant, and he thanks his ancestors every time he's there for allowing him this place of peace in the storm of the multiverse. It takes awhile for his meal to arrive, as usual, but it is always so worth the wait.

He's snapped out of his thoughts when a thick brown with a lid is placed in front of him, “bon appetit” you say with a smile, pulling out a spoon from your apron and setting it next to the bowl. “I tweaked the recipe a little, let me know how it is, yeah?”.

The king only nodded as he lifted the lid, steam immediately pouring out. The smell of the braised lamb stew filled the surrounding area and he couldn't help but take a deep inhale. The vegetables were cut in large chunks, and when he poked at them with the spoon they easily split under the pressure- just how he liked it, embarrassingly so. Oh how he wished his sister could join him, but he's been separated from her for what's felt like ages due to the multiversal break.

Susan and Reed had long since finished their dishes, and stayed sitting at the table and opted to just talk to each other for a while. They were allowed to relax a bit before going back to the worldly issues. But eventually they decided it was time to go, both of them standing up. Susan pulled out her wallet and counted some bills before placing down enough for their means- and a plentiful tip for her favorite Chef.

“Thank you Chef!” Reed called out before taking Susan's arm and walking out with her, hearing a yell of ‘see you later!’ from the kitchen before the door closed behind them. And then there was one, peacefully eating his stew.

You came out with a bin and set it down on the table the couple were sitting at, taking their dirty dishes and putting it in the bin to clean later. “oh hell yeah,” you muttered to yourself, flipping through the money before pocketing it. Before going back to the kitchen, you made a quick stop at T’challa’s table.

“Does it taste okay? It's not too bland is it?” The bin is placed on another table as you worriedly ask him questions. “It tastes wonderful, dear Chef, no need to worry” he reassured you, “in fact, I would like a bowl to go, please”.

“Of course, I'll pack up the rest for you” and off to the kitchen you were, bin in hands and placed into the sink before grabbing a large bowl and putting the leftovers into it. After wrapping it into a plastic bag, you take it out and place it on the table next to his helmet, “here you go, it'll reheat easily no matter how you choose to do so”.

Precious coins were placed in your hand before you had the chance to leave the table, T’challa being the giver. “Thank you, Chef, I always enjoy the meal”, his politeness always being welcome. He pushes the chair back and stands up, grabbing his helmet and putting it on before the plastic bag. Raising the bag above his head as another thank you, he pushes the chair in and walks out of the restaurant.

Emptiness meant time to clean, taking the dirty dishes and rinsing them before going to run the dishwasher. Knives are cleaned by hand and put away gently, some even sharpened before being put in the knife block. Pans are also cleaned by hand, rinsing off the butter and fat left over from meats and vegetables. Counters are wiped down and then tables that were used get the same treatment, gentle humming being accompanied by the cloth rubbing against wood.

When all is cleaned you mark the day over, going to the front door and flipping the sign to ‘closed’ before turning off all the lights.

Maybe you'll go out with some friends for the rest of the day, or just stay home and binge movies, who knows?

[erikftglitter]

Ch 7 | The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens' New Wife

Killmonger AU

Created By: Erikftglitter

Kari woke up with the warmth of another person. She leaned in further to the warmth. She could get used to sleeping with Dr. Stevens. She had only dreamt of stuff like this. To come home to your wealthy, providing man after he just bought dinner, and fucked you to sleep.

“Morning Kitten.”

Kari sank deeper into his chest. She was growing fond of the way that he said it. Erik rubbed her back gently, giving her a few moments to think about last night’s endeavors.

“Are you hungry?”

Kari didn’t respond. It took Erik a moment to realize that she was back asleep on his chest. He didn’t stop drawing the patterns. It was quite comforting to him. He’s not sure what today will look like.

He tried to remove Kari’s hands and body from where they rested on his chest, but Kari’s grip was stronger than he had realized. He would wake the girl if he moved her. Erik thought for a second.

He slow trailed his hands down Kari’s body, knowing which areas were most likely to entice a response from the woman. He squeezed her hips then lowered his large hands to her ass. His fingers grazed the entrance of her exposed heat, that’s when he felt her body twitch. His fingertips ghosted the skin of her folds. Kari’s eyes slowly blinked open.

She felt exposed from her place underneath the blankets. Humiliation was starting to creep up on her as she felt her naked skin touching Erik’s. Was she moving too fast? Is this it? Did she prove that she was easy?

Erik felt the uptick of Kari’s heartbeat. She was thinking too much. He trailed his hands back to Kari’s waist and encouraged her to straddle him. She was still nervous about Erik seeing her like this, so exposed and vulnerable. He gently pushed her hands away from her breast, where she placed them to instinctively hide herself from his gaze, but Erik was not having it.

I’ve already seen it Kitten. Please don’t hide.

“Do you trust me?” Erik asked. He studied Kari’s expression. She was thinking about it. Did she trust him? He hadn’t given her a reason not to. She was just pondering about the possibility of marrying the man so she had to have some type of forsaken agreement to trust him.

“Yes.” She responded softly. To Kari’s surprise she was able to meet his gaze. Maybe because she had no where else to look. For the first time that morning Erik smiled. Good.

“I’m happy to have gained your trust Kari. But I need you to do me a favor, okay?” Erik expressed. Kari nodded but Erik gave her the benefit of the doubt. She had gone through a lot of changes within the last twenty four hours.

“I need you to find your anchor and to hold on to it. Don’t worry so much about this,” he started, referring to the new alliance between the two.

Erik determined that Kari suffered from some branch of anxiety. The sudden increases to her heartbeat reminded him of the panic attack that he helped neutralize. If he was serious about making Kari the wife of he and his ego, then he would like if she didn’t have a heart attack before he had the chance to court her.

“Here.” He was giving her his Navy pendant. The customized necklace was one that he never wore and he knew that Kari would take pristine care for it. It also symbolized his intentions with the girl.

Kari’s eyes lit up as Erik placed the necklace around her neck, forgetting that she was even naked. She was warming up to idea of ignoring her instinctual nature to cover up. She was very excited to wear the pendant underneath each of her outfits. She would feel closer to the doctor everyday, especially during the nights where he would be in the operating room for more than half of the day.

“Do you like me Dr. Stevens?” Asked softly. Erik chuckled. That was a very comical question.

“I suppose the purse didn’t really express that.” Erik replied. Kari shook her head.

“It’s just that I know that you are busy with most of your time being spent at the hospital, and you have options, and you have the political ability to speak for the Governor, and-“ Kari was frantically trying to explain herself but was ultimately unsuccessful. Erik was trying to keep up with her message but she was constantly adding new ideas on top of those initial ones.

He knew what the underlying issue was. She was jealous about the idea of sharing Erik. That’s cute. Erik hadn’t gave any of his peers more than an obligatory conversation that typically discussed a patient and a plan for their care. He wasn’t exactly as nice as he was to Kari.

“It’s just you and I, kitten. Please don’t mention anyone else beyond this point.” He was growing irritable of the images of his less appealing colleagues when Kari was in front of him and naked.

“Okay.” She laid her head down to rest on top of Erik. He was just relieved to feel her heart beating at a normal pace again. Kari was content with his response. Dr. Stevens was clearly just as interested in her as she was interested in him.

“You know I really do like my purse.” She said from her place on his chest.

“If you tell me what you want to eat then we can pick you out another one.” Erik knew what he was doing. Kari’s head shot up from his chest. Kari’s self control was in critical danger. Soon she would be nothing more than Dr. Stevens’ compliant little sub that received whatever she wanted.

“I- that won’t be necessary really. I can’t accept-“ Kari was trying to remove herself from Erik’s grasp as she spoke but he kept her still. Kari was frustrated at what his large hands were doing to her.

“I don’t want to hear that Kari.” Erik was getting impatient. “I know what you need.”

//

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