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pyraomen · 8 days ago

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𐙚⋆.˚ 𝒀𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝑩𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 , elijah moore.

𝑺𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─── after leaving chicago with mob money, smoke and stack open up their own juke joint in the mississippi delta. when cash starts running low, they call on a favor from an old friend. that same favor came with a price, and now smoke’s new job is to protect one thing mr. laveau loves most, his daughter.

꒰ bodyguard elijah “smoke” moore x spoiled!black female reader. time setting can be interpreted by you, profanity used, sexual tension, suggestive content, criminal themes, power dynamic, older!smoke, younger!reader — very much legal 21 and above, dominant!smoke, brat!reader, light possessiveness. ꒱

the summer heat was evident in the backroom of the juke joint, the air heavy with the remainder of last night’s activities. smoke and stack sat at a small table, peeling apart stacks of crumpled bills from the register. business was decent, couldn’t complain, but not nearly enough to keep up with the promises they made after skipping town with pockets full of mob money.

after hitting both the irish and italian mobs in chicago, they hightailed back down south with blood on their hands and a vision of owning something that was theirs. the juke joint was supposed to be that vision. but when the profits didn’t match the heat they were under, they reached out to an old acquaintance, mr. laveau.

mr. laveau was cut from the same cloth as any other black man, but he made a name for himself in the mississippi delta. people didn’t go to him unless they really needed to. still even with all the power he possessed. he couldn’t protect his daughter from everything, so he fronted smoke and stack a loan with one simple string attached — one of them would serve as his daughter’s personal bodyguard and that duty fell onto smoke.

“ain’t you supposed to be picking up lil miss right now?” stack asked, raising an eyebrow as he skimmed through the cash. smoke sucked his teeth and let out a low hiss, already irritated. “damn,” he muttered, pushing back from the table. “finish countin this for me, and don’t fuck up. you know damn well yo ass can’t count past ten without usin your fingers.” he pointed a serious finger in stack’s direction.

stack looked up, insulted. “nigga i can count the hell.” smoke didn’t bother arguing. he was already on his feet, grabbing his keys off the hook near the door. “be safe,” stack called after him. smoke nodded once, “always.”

by the time smoke made it across town to [ꪆৎ]’s house, the sun had started to set. his mind was tangled in thoughts of how to make it up to the girl, how to soften her disappointment, how to explain without sounding like he was making excuses.

he hated being late, especially with her. she wasn’t just some job or favor owed anymore. no, she was something else entirely. something that gnawed at him in his quiet moments and pulled at him more than he cared to admit.

the tires crunched over gravel as he pulled up to the laveau residence. the house stood tall and proud, just like the man who built it — gated, guarded, protected. he adjusted the collar of his shirt, wiped the sweat from his brow, and approached the front door like he had serious debt to pay.

the door swung open before he could knock, and there she was. standing there in dim lighting, arms crossed, lips pursed in a pout that could get her anything she wanted. the dress she wore was the color of warm strawberry cream, soft pink with a delicate texture. it hugged her body with purpose, the corset bodice sculpting her waist and lifting her chest just right, while the skirt flared out.

smoke leaned against the doorway, his eyes trailing down the length of her legs. those soft, thick thighs he remembered tracing with his eyes, countless of times, distracted.

he remembered when she first tried that dress on in the boutique, standing barefoot on the carpet, indecisive, per usual, with two different options in hand. she had walked out the dressing room twirling, asking him, “this one… or the other one with the slit?” and his only response was to toss both on the counter and pull out his wallet.

now, here she was standing in front on him. wearing the one she’d picked for the day, looking too fine and too proud for her own good. “you’re late,” [ꪆৎ] said, voice soft, but the pout on her lips and the disappointment laced in her tone cut deeper than anything loud ever could. smoke blinked, shoulders tightening as he looked at her. “i know,” he sighed, eyes softening with guilt. “i’m sorry, miss.”

[ꪆৎ] didn’t move. she just stared at him, slow-blinking like she was deciding whether or not to slam the door in his face. she wouldn’t. he knew that, but the possibility was still there.

“pa already left,” she said, finally stepping aside to let him in. “told me not to wait, but i did anyway.” smoke stepped inside, letting the cool air hit him, but it didn’t do much to ease the warmth crawling up his neck.

“i appreciate you waitin”, he said, glancing down at her again, the way her thighs brushed together as she turned, her scent lingering in the air — a hint of vanilla and something fruity he couldn’t put his finger on. “you look… real beautiful.”

[ꪆৎ] scoffed, soft but pointed, her back to him now as she reached for her small purse on the foyer table. “you only sayin that cause you late.” “i’m sayin it cause it’s true,” he replied, voice low, watching her from the corner of his eye. “and i apologize, should of been here earlier.”

she waved her hand, dismissing his apology. “you ain’t never been late before,” she said, stopping at the mirror near the door to check her makeup. she shook her head, “not this late.” smoke sighed, “we had a long night at the joint. stack was draggin his feet countin.” she turned toward him, giving him that look. the one that made his chest tighten and his mouth go quiet. “you should’ve left earlier. you know how my daddy feels about being on time.”

smoke nodded, taking the weight of her words. he stepped forward, just a little closer than polite. “i ain’t worried about what your daddy thinks,” he said. “i’m worried bout how you lookin at me right now.”

she tilted her head, arms folding once more across her chest — drawing the dress tight across her bust, the top straining dangerously close to slipping down the soft swell of her breasts. the motion was unintentional, but it still left an affect on him.

“and how’s that?” she asked, one brow raised, her voice laced with challenge. “like you wanna be mad,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to her chest before meeting hers again. “but you miss me just a little.”

her lips twitched, the pout threatening to soften. “i don’t miss you,” she said, turning to open the front door, but her voice had gone soft again, stinkingly sweet. “i just hate waiting.” smoke followed her out, his hand brushing the small of her back, lingering longer than he should’ve. the fabric was soft, but her skin beneath it was softer. “then i’ll make sure you don’t have to wait next time,” he said.

[ꪆৎ] glanced at him from the corner of her eye, “you better mean that, smoke.” he opened the passenger door for her, holding it with that quiet kind of care that said everything he couldn’t. “i do,” he said simply. and he meant it.

she sat into the passenger seat without a word, her legs crossing slow, deliberate. smoke rounded the hood, settling behind the wheel and starting the engine, but he didn’t pull off just yet. silence settled for a beat too long before she spoke.

“you know you don’t have to call me ‘miss,’ right?” her voice was soft but direct, eyes fixed ahead through the windshield, hands resting in her lap.

smoke glanced at her, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “and you don’t have to call me smoke.” that made her turn. just a little. enough to look at him from under her lashes, a faint smile threatening the edge of her lips. “well… i don’t know what else to call you,” she said, half teasing, half serious.

he shrugged, shifting the car into gear. “you’ll figure it out. i’m sure you got all kinds of names for me in that pretty little head.” she let out a quiet laugh, turning back toward the window, but the tension eased, for now.

“you were supposed to take me shopping,” she reminded him. “i had half the boutiques in town holding things”, a frown showed on her face. “i know,” he nodded, making the first turn onto the road. “and we still are. just got a little sidetracked.”

“you always got an excuse,” she huffed, crossing her legs slow like she wanted to be seen. knowing good and well her dress was sliding higher with every movement, showing more of those soft thighs he could never ignore.

smoke glanced at her, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, his grip tightening slightly on the wheel. he knew her game. she wanted a reaction out of him, but he wasn’t the type to let her get her way just yet.

he cut his glance from her to focus on the rode. “you gon keep actin like that, or you gon let me make it up to you?”, he asked, voice low, laced with warning to check her attitude. she didn’t answer right away, just smirked to herself, fingers toying with the strap of her purse. “you lucky i’m still in the mood to let you spend money on me,” she said sweetly, like she hadn’t just tested his patience on purpose.

“not doin it cause i’m lucky,” he muttered, giving her another look, longer this time, letting his gaze linger on the fat of her thighs. “i’m doin it cause you deserve it. even when you sitting in my car with this fake pissy attitude.”

she didn’t say anything to that, just pressed her lips together, fighting a knowing smile, and turned to look out the window. that told smoke everything he needed to know. the rest of the ride hummed with quiet tension. not awkward, just thick. like both of them had more to say but neither one wanted to be the first to cave.

they pulled up to a boutique tucked between a flower shop and a record store, one of those high-end spots with blacked-out windows and gold-painted lettering that barely needed to advertise. everyone already knew who it catered to.

smoke killed the engine and turned to look at her, but she was already unbuckling her seatbelt, hand poised on the handle like she didn’t need him. still, he got out first and came around, opening her door like he always did. a gentleman, no matter her mood.

she hesitated for a second, just enough to make a point, then placed her hand in his. her fingers slid into his palm like they belonged there, soft and warm, with that quiet kind of confidence that always knocked him a little off balance.

smoke steadied her as she stepped out of the car, slow and smooth like she knew he was watching. the second she rose to her full height, her perfume hit him again. it wrapped around him thick, curling low in his gut and settling somewhere behind his zipper.

he clenched his jaw, eyes flicking away too late. the soft bounce of her body, the way her dress clung when she moved. every step she took made his self-control slip just a little more. his pants had already begun to tighten, his bulge pressing uncomfortable and obvious against his slacks, the effect of just being near her. and the worst part? she knew.

the way her gaze dropped for a second, and the slow curve of her smirk afterward? she didn’t need to say a damn thing.

no cars were in sight. the boutique was empty, just like it always was when she came. the owner knew better than to have customers hanging around when [ꪆৎ] laveau was in. she liked to browse in peace, and with her last name, peace was something folks were quick to make space for.

just as they crossed the threshold, smoke held the door open for her. “you gon behave in here?” [ꪆৎ] scoffed, brushing past him with a toss of her curls, hips swaying with purpose. “that depends. you gon show up on time next time?” her tone laced with sharpness. then she paused, just long enough to glance back at him.

“i ain’t no child,” she added, eyes narrowing slightly. “and i damn sure ain’t stack, so don’t talk to me like i am.” he just stood there for a second, watching her sway farther into the store.

he should've been annoyed. he should've put her in her place. but truthfully? he liked the way she said it, low, firm, with that little bite in her tone — damn near made him grin. he stepped up behind her, close enough for her to feel his presence. “you right,” he said, voice low and steady in her ear. “you ain’t no child.”

she froze for half a second, then kept walking like she hadn’t heard the change in his tone. as if just his tone didn’t make her wet. “and if i wanted to be round stack,” he added, following her with calm, measured steps, “i’d be back at the juke joint listenin to him count ones like they fives.”

[ꪆৎ] tried to hide her reaction. “i’m here with you,” he continued, watching the way her fingers skimmed over fabric. “so act like you know the difference.” she turned to face him then, dress she picked up in her hand. “is that you checkin me, smoke?” he tilted his head, eyes dragging from her face down to the hem of her dress. “nah. that’s me remindin you who you talkin to.” a beat of silence passed between them, hot and heavy like the mississippi air.

their moment of silence was interrupted as quick as it came. “miss laveau,” the girl behind the counter called, perking up. “everything you requested is in the back. i’ll set up your fitting room now.”

“thank you, baby,” [ꪆৎ] replied, her tone softening just enough to let her charm peek through. she turned back to smoke, gaze flicking down the aisle of mannequins and dresses. “make yourself useful.”

he didn’t say a word. just followed her as she moved from rack to rack, holding every dress she picked out. she held a champagne-colored dress up to her frame, studying herself in the mirror near the end of the row. “you gon stand there lookin, or help me pick?” she said smartly over her shoulder, not even glancing at him.

smoke stepped up behind her. he reached past her slowly, his hand brushing lightly against her shoulder as he plucked a deep red slip from the rack. it was cut low, short, made of silk, and left nothing for the imagination. something she could wear only for him.

“this one,” he said, holding it out. “fits that smart ass mouth.”[ꪆৎ] turned her head a knowing gleam in her eye. “you sure you can handle my mouth?” smoke met her gaze, unbothered, that lazy smirk working its way across his face. “i been doin just fine so far, ain’t i?” she rolled her eyes with a small huff, snatching the dress from his hand, but not before their fingers brushed. [ꪆৎ] grabbed two more pieces on her way to the fitting room.

smoke watched her go, brown eyes trailing her figure the whole way down until the velvet curtain swished behind her. “you need anything, miss laveau, just holler,” the shopgirl called after her. “i’ll be alright,” [ꪆৎ] yelled back.

smoke exhaled slow, dragging a hand down his face as he leaned against the nearest wall. the boutique was still and quiet again, except for the hum of the AC and the faint rustle of fabric behind that curtain.

she hadn’t even been in there thirty minutes. and already, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to keep playing it cool.

sevyn’s note: i didn’t feel like writing a smut scene, just know the poor girl that works at the boutique would of been traumatized 🤭. expect more smoke fics and i hope yall enjoyed, feedback is welcome <3.

layout inspo @dollerin

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pyraomen · 10 days ago

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゛ᢉ𐭩 ⸝⸝⋆ 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝑭𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 , elias moore.

𝑺𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─── it’s stack’s first real father’s day and he’s been waiting to spend it with you and his lil man. just like old times. he told you a week ago his momma was throwin a cookout back home in mississippi, a special day for all the fathers in his family. he even cleaned up his act a lil bit, tryna show he still that man you fell for. instead of showing up with just his son, you bring your new nigga…on his day. you knew better, and now he gotta remind you. remind both y’all.

꒰ babydaddy elias “stack” moore x black!fem reader. established relationship, second chance. strong use of profanity, lots of n-word usage, drama, jealous!stack, toxic arguments, emotional tension, hurt feelings, possessive!stack, threats made, violence, reminiscence, sexual content, sexual tension, angry sex, degradation, rough sex, dirty talk, oral sex, creampie, light breeding kink, overstimulation and lots of other things so scroll now if you don’t want to read about people fucking. ꒱

the ride from atlanta to mississippi was long, too long for how quiet the car had gotten. even with the air conditioner running, the air felt heavy. your baby boy was asleep in the backseat, pacifier slack in his mouth, and his black curls stuck to his forehead from the heat. you had one hand on the steering wheel, fingers tapping in a rhythm to calm your nerves.

the road stretched on forever in front of you, with the GPS voice muted after the fifth "continue straight". your man, dominique sat in the passenger seat mindlessly scrolling through his phone, thumb moving fast like he was tryna distract himself. he had been feeling a type of way since you told him about today’s plans. you caught the look he gave you ten minutes ago, fake mean mugging you with his whole face turned up. full of questions he ain’t bold enough to ask outright.

the tension was cut when he asked, “why couldn’t we just stay in atlanta?” voice laced with too much attitude. “could’ve saved us this whole damn trip.” you sighed, you knew this was coming and could feel yourself getting irritated because he already knew the answer. “because his momma throwing a father’s day cookout. it’s his first one and it’s good for my baby to be round family.”

dominque rolled his eyes while shaking his head. “family? tuh. ain’t none of them came around since he was born, but now they wanna go all out. throwin cookouts ‘n shit.” he tried to mutter under his breath, but you still heard him.

you gripped the steering wheel tighter, eyes still focusing on the rode. “this ain’t about you dominque. i told you that before we even left.” out of your peripheral vision you could see him put the phone down and turn his body in the seat to focus in on you. “you right, it’s not about me.” his voice raised, “but let’s keep it a buck cause its damn sure ain’t just about your son either. you could’ve dropped him off and turned around.” you shot him a look, because now he was doing too much. “don’t start.”

his voice came out sharp, bitter. feeling like he could finally get everything off his chest, like your son wasn’t sleep, but he didn’t care. the words had been sittin on his tongue too long, and now they were spillin whether you liked it or not. “i’m not starting shit”, he snapped. “i’m just saying, look how you dressed. that thin ass sundress, hair done up, wearing jewelry i fasho ain’t get you.” his lip curled as he looked you up and down, voice dropping low, more insult than question now. “this all for me or him?”

his fingers tapped against his fake amiri jeans, eyes still on you, waiting for an answer he assumed he knew. you cut your eyes at him. the way he was acting? like he ain’t realize who he was talking to. like he forgot you had a whole baby in the backseat. “stop raising your voice like you ain’t got no sense”, you snapped. “my son is sleep, and i’m not about to keep going back and forth with you over bullshit.”

he tried to open his mouth, to defend himself, but you kept going. “i’m the mother of elias’ child. i’m gon show up put together regardless. you expect me to pull up lookin like some bag lady in front of his entire family?” the silence was evident after that. you heard him huffing and puffing clearly bothered by what you said.

then came his bitter laugh. he shook his head, staring out the window like he couldn’t believe what he was hearin, “you still call that nigga elias.” he was quiet for good after that, but the disrespect was loud. voice full of resentment and something else y’all both didn’t want to admit to.

this was one of those times you were lucky your baby couldn’t talk yet. if he did, he would of been running to his daddy about what dominique said and you were trying to get them to have a cordial relationship. unfortunately it wasn’t working.

the silence felt suffocating and pushed against your temple like a headache. with dominque’s resentment weighing heavily on you, each mile seemed to go on forever. you decided to pull over when you noticed a faded green symbol for a gas station up ahead. you flicked the turn signal, “i’m pulling over.” your voice was low, you hated arguing because it always drained you mentally. “tank low and i need a minute.” dominque didn’t say nothing, giving you the silent treatment.

you shifted into park, pulled up next to the pump, and released a breath you weren't even aware you were holding. the long drive caused your sundress to stick slightly to the back of your thighs as you climbed out slowly. you went to the rear of your car, swiped your card, and began filling up the tank.

the voice in the back of your head criticized dominque for not getting out to pump your gas. “elias would of did it, argument or not”, you thought. you shook them thoughts away because it was nothing you could do, ya’ll weren’t together anymore. you peaked into the back seat, as the gas nozzle stayed where it was at. inside the car, your son was still sleeping peacefully. completely unbothered by the mess unfolding around him. which he got from his daddy, they both could sleep through anything.

you glanced at your reflection in the car window — lips still glossy, no smudge in your makeup, hoops glinting, and your ass looked fat in this sundress. you fixed the placement of some of the bracelets around your wrist, the ones elias got you, by the way. you looked good and that’s what had him pressed.

from the passenger seat, dominique finally stepped out. stretching like the whole ride wore him out and he wasn’t behind the drivers seat once. he leaned against the car, arms folded across his chest, watching you. “you always gotta make shit harder than it gotta be, don’t you?” he mumbled. you didn’t even glance at him.

“and you always got somethin to say when you feel like you ain’t bein prioritized. ain’t nobody tryin to make you feel small, dominque. but today ain’t about you.” he sucked his teeth, pushed off the car and came stalking towards you. “nah it’s never about me. it’s always elias this, elias that. like he somebody for real. whole time he couldn’t even keep his family together.”

“you got it dominique.” and it was left at that. you weren’t gonna argue in public with a man who couldn’t handle you doin right by your child. you just needed to hurry up and get this over with. drop of your son, play cordial, make you a few plates, and leave before elias reminded you why he was the hardest man to walk away from in the first place.

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after another thirty minutes, you finally made it to elias’ momma house. it took you a minute to find parking since cars was packed in the front of the house and the neighbors. you eased your car into a tight spot across the street from them. “come on”, you muttered hopping out the car.

the air smelt like smoke ribs, burnt ends, and sweet bbq sauce — a classic mississippi summer. your baby started to stir as you lifted him gently from his car seat, resting him against your hip. you didn’t pay dominque any mind, as you made your way to the back of the house. the moore house was vibrant — music loudly playing, uncles loud off liquor while playing spades, elijah was on the grill, kids ran through the grass barefoot with melting popsicles. elias’ momma was setting out foil pans on a fold-up table with her hands on her hips.

as you walked closer, your feet became slightly heavier. every step felt loud and all eyes on you, like everybody at the damn cookout paused just to see who the hell you brought with you. relatives of stack approached you, saying their hellos and cooed at your son. all you could do was give them half smiles in return.

because your attention was focused on him, your babydaddy. he hadn’t noticed you yet, which was a relief at the moment. lazily leaned back in a folding chair with his legs spread wide and elbows rested on his knees. he looked good, too good. stack had his go-to black durag tied tight around his head, white tank clinging to his muscles, gold chain glinting in the sun, and his grills lightly shined when he smirked at something his cousin said. he was having a good time, sipping on his favorite drink — hennessy in a red cup.

all that shifted when one of his messy ass aunties pointed you out in the crowd. “there go your baby mama, eli,” she said, smirkin over her plate of ribs. “ain’t that her right there in that lil pink dress?” he glanced up and just like that, all the playfulness dropped clean off his face.

his shoulders squared up and the relax lean he had in the chair turned into a full sit-up. flexed jaw. eyes narrowed. mean mugging. the moment he clocked the man next to you, his smile vanished, and the gold on his tooth stopped flashing. his eyes moved very slowly, taking you all in, from the bouncing curls on your shoulder to your glossy lips to his little man on your hip.

and the lame ass nigga next to you.

elias’ lips parted just slightly, but he ain’t say nothing. not yet. he just stared.

you felt it, that familiar look he gave you. the one he gave you back when you used to test his patience just to see how far he’d go. heat began to crawl up your neck, not from embarrassment, but knowing you fucked up. he was trying to keep it cute in front of his people, but stack wasn’t a level headed nigga. no, that was smoke. smoke was the calmer twin, the one you could reason with. and when he looked over at his brother across the yard and gave him that sharp nod. saying all the words he needed with his eyes —“if something pop off, be ready”. you already knew what it meant. you and dominique was beyond saving.

you gripped your son tighter, adjusting him on your hip and forced a smile towards elias’ momma who pulled you into a one-armed hug. “hey baby”, she greeted. “look at my grand baby, ain’t he getting big?” you nodded, voice light. “yes ma’am. growing too fast for my liking.”

she gave dominique a simple “hi”, but didn’t say his name. just looked him up and down real quick, then turned her attention back to the food table like she was tryna keep the peace.

peace was thrown out the window when you showed up with another man. stack was looking at you like you personally betrayed him. he rose slowly, as though tension tightened every bone in his body. the red cup hung loose in his fingers, but his whole frame said anything but relaxed.

one of his cousins who already peeped game, leaned over to try and stop him. “aye stack, chill.” but he wasn’t hearing none of that. nobody understood how he was feeling, that was his babymomma at the end of the day.

not just some random bitch he used to mess with. you were his, his headache, his soft spot, his unfinished business. and he would do anything to get his family back. he was already walking toward y’all, straight through the crowd, eyes locked on you. nothing about his body language gave soft or calm.

he made his way across the yard, cutting through chairs and coolers like the crowd wasn’t even there. like his whole family wasn’t lowkey staring, forks frozen mid-air, watching how this was about to play out.

dominque was right next to you, standing tall like he had something to prove. arms crossed over his chest, chin up like he was ready for whatever. stack’s eyes didn’t leave yours once. not even when he got close enough for you to smell the henny and versace cologne on him.

when he finally spoke, it was low and grumbled, like he was trying real hard not to raise his voice “this what we on now?” you didn’t answer right away. you couldn’t. because in reality, this was a terrible idea. there was a familiar sting in the back of your throat. the one you got whenever stack looked at you like this, like he knew you better than you knew yourself. as if he was waiting on you to say something dumb so he could call your bluff.

you shifted your son on your hip and shaked your head. "let’s not do this here, elias." he licked his bottom lip, head tilted slightly. still looking at you, taking you in like you owed him something. “nah we gon do this right here, in front of everybody.” he turned slightly towards dominique, just enough to size him up. “you the new nigga?”, stack asked straight up, grill flashing just a little — a crazed smile forming on his face.

dominque puffed his chest out, “yeah i’m with her. problem?” stack laughed, a serious laugh like what he said was funny to him. “you with her. that’s cute.” and like a switch he turned back towards you, looking dead in your face, expression wiped of every bit of playfulness. “you really brought this clown to my mama house? on father's day? with my son?"

your heart sank, because now whatever jealousy you were trying to get him to feel was biting you in the ass. “elias please—”, he snapped cutting you off. “you knew what you was doing. came all this way looking good and smelling sweet. ‘n had the nerve this bring this lame ass nigga, like i wasn’t gon say something.”

dominque stepped forward a little, trying to come to your defense. “she not doing shit. you mad emotional because she chose me, nigga get over it.” and had the nerve to laugh in his face. it was silent for a moment, stack had to process the straight bullshit he fixed him mouth to say. he stale faced him, voice oddly calm. “nah, she settlin. you the in-between. the lil nigga holding her bag while she waitin for me to remind her who the fuck she belong to.”

you bit your lip hard, head turned away as you gently patted your baby’s back — trying to soothe him, and yourself. you unfortunately knew what was coming next. dominique stepped towards stack, clearly not used to somebody pushing back. “man, i’m not scared of you. you just mad she don’t want your toxic ass no more-”. before he could finish his sentence, stack’s fist came up fast, clean, and cracked him dead in the mouth.

dominique stumbled back hard, hand flying to his lip that was already pouring blood in his hand. stack ain’t even flinch. just stood over him, eyes dark, jaw clenched, chest rising slow. “talk that shit again nigga,” he growled. “i dare you.” you stepped between them fast, voice loud. “alright that’s enough! both of yall need to stop.”

stack’s eyes flickered towards yours, and his gaze softened. he looked at your son, now whimpering soft against your shoulder and his whole face shifted. the anger inside him subsided at that moment. for a second, it was just you, him, and the baby.

and then, of course dominque had to ruin it. “you really gon let him disrespect me like that? you gon stand there and let this nigga think he can put hands on me?” you turned your head slowly. looked at him with nothing but exhaustion in your face. “you shouldn’t’ve said shit,” you muttered.

then you looked at stack again. he was still breathing heavy, still tense, but his eyes were on you now. not dominique. just you. “you comin with me,” he said, voice low, thick in a way that made your knees feel weak. “wait—” he stepped in close, barely touching you but still taking up all your space. “let me word it differently for you, bring yo ass inside.”

you looked back at dominque. his lip was busted. and he was scared to even look stack’s way. you couldn’t even feel bad. not really. you gently handed your baby over to stack’s mama, and she just took him with a sigh and shake of her head.

with your son safely out your hands, he reached and grabbed your wrist. and you let him, didn’t even fight it. he pulled you into his momma house like he paid mortgage himself. the screen door slammed behind y’all, and the second y’all hit the hallway, his hand was on your ass, gripping hard.

“you out your fuckin mind”, he snarled against your neck, lips dragging over your skin. “comin here looking pretty as fuck, smelling good. knowing i ain’t touched you in months.” you gasped, moaning softly when he bit your shoulder, rough teeth dragging over the dip of it before he licked the sting away. the grip he had on your hip got even tighter. you could feel how mad he was. his dick was pressed up against your ass, already hard and heavy through his jeans.

he tugged your sundress up, hand palming your panty covered ass like it was his again. “take yo ass up stairs.” he didn’t have to tell you twice, you practically ran up the stairs, flip flops almost sliding off your feet. you hit the top stair and turned to the first room on the left, his old room — your back hit the edge of the bed right as he stepped through the door.

he slammed the door shut with one hand, not bothering to lock it. stack pounced on you, gripping your throat slightly, just enough to make your breath hitch. he kissed you like he was punishing you for making him wait. tongue in your mouth, lips rough, teeth nipping at yours. his golds cold against your lips, his hands greedy, yanking at your dress like he didn’t care if it ripped. and he didn’t, he’ll buy you a new one.

he slowly peeled the straps of your dress down. you were already bare underneath, no bra, your breasts spilling out and brown nipples already hard. stack’s lips never left yours as he pushed the dress to your waist, palms rough against your back, until he finally pulled away to look.

“god damn”, he muttered, biting the corner of his lip as his thumb brushed across one peaked nipple. “i ain’t seen these titties since you was pregnant. they still mine?” you nodded too fast, chest rising with every breath. his hand came up and slapped your tittie once, not hard, just enough to sting and make your knees buckle a little.

“i said talk, not nod.” “yes—yes, they yours,” you breathed, mouth parted. “always been.” he let out a low chuckle, “i know.” his lips wrapped around one nipple and sucked hard, before doing the same to the other one. now both coated in saliva, he took his two thumbs to brush over your nipples. rolling and tugging on them, just to feel you squirm, to hear the way your moan cracked when it got to be too much.

“fuck i missed the way you sound”, he said while inching toward your neck leaving soft kisses. “you ain’t moan like this for that other nigga huh?”, his voice tickled your ear while one hand was still on your nipples.

“no, fuck no,” you gasped, thighs already rubbing together for friction. “bet he ain’t even know how to suck on these right.” he latched on again, sucking until your back arched, your body begging.

he slid down to his knees, “lay back”, he muttered. “legs up.” you followed quickly. he planted soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. “look at you”, knuckles grazing over your panties. “i can already tell this pussy wet.” you let out a low whine, wishing we would do something, “stack please.”

“i know, i know baby.” he let out a low, knowing grin. his fingers hooked into the sides of your panties, yanking them down your trembling thighs with no patience. slow enough to watch the strings of slick cling to them, but fast enough to remind you he wasn’t in the mood to be soft.

“fuck, look at this pussy”, he murmured, eyes locked between your legs like he was witnessing something sacred. “all this mess? you that fuckin wet for me, huh?” your thighs trembled as the cool air hit your soaked folds, and he held the ruined panties up with a smirk, index finger running through the sticky wetness clinging to the lace. “so sticky, baby. you must’ve missed me real bad.”

you whined when his fingers spread you open. clit on full display and wetness spilling out of your slit. the moment he slid his tongue between your folds, you cried. tongue flat, wide, dragging through your folds with no mercy. he sucked on your clit like he was mad at it. you jerked forward, but he grabbed your hips and pulled you back, eating like a man starved, nose buried, tongue fucking you.

“mmm,” he groaned into your pussy, beard soaked. “you missed this nasty shit, huh?” you could only let out a nod, hands gripping the sheets while your thighs trembled. “missed me suckin on this clit, fuckin you open with my tongue…makin you cum without even puttin dick in you.” “f-fuck, elias—oh my god,” you cried out, back arching.

that tongue was still disrespectful. sloppy, greedy, licking from clit to slit and back again like he missed the taste. he pulled you forward, buried his face deeper, eating like he was trying to drown in it. “i’m about to cum”, you screamed.

he smirked against your pussy, spit and slick dripping down his chin. “there she go.” your orgasm hit hard, too hard, and he didn’t even stop, not while you twitched and cried and begged. when he finally pulled back, you were soaked, thighs sticky, your pussy fluttering around nothing, empty and aching.

he stood, unbuckling his belt with quick hands, pulling his jeans and boxers in one swift motion to free his dick. that familiar fat dick slapped against his stomach, veins thick, tip angry red and leaking. you moaned at the sight. “gimme that dick,” you begged finally, your voice gone, eyes glossy. “elias—baby, please, fuck me.”

“now you remember how to act.” you looked down to see him stroking his dick slow, watching you squirm. “look at you. laid out like a slut. that nigga ever make you beg like this?” you shook your head no. “didn’t fuckin think so.”

“turn around”, he said voice hoarse. you did, planting your palms on the bed, back arched just the way he liked it. he stood behind you, taking a second just to admire. “she so pretty,” he muttered under his breath, rough knuckles brushing over the swell of your ass. “don’t make no sense…”you gasped when you felt him drag his tip through your folds, slow and steady, coating himself with your slick.

the low grunt he let out told you just how good it felt. his tip circled your entrance, teasing. “this my pussy?” he asked, voice a low rasp that scraped down your spine. you nodded your head, trying to push back into him, but he held your hips in place. “nah i need you to say it.” a frustrated, needy whine slipped from your lips. your voice trembled, breath catching in your throat. “yes, eli—”

you couldn’t even finish. he slammed into you with no warning, deep and rough, knocking the air straight out your lungs. your mouth dropped open but no sound came out for a second, just the echo of skin slapping skin and the high-pitched moan that followed once you caught your breath.

“say it again,” he gritted out through clenched teeth, dragging his hips back only to slam forward again. “tell me who this pussy belong to.” “y-you!” you cried out, eyes rolling back as he hit your sweet spot over and over again. “it’s yours elias, it’s yours. i promise.”

your knees were already starting to buckle, the way he gripped the fat of your waist, the stretch of him, it was all too much. your hand reached back instinctively, pushing weakly at his stomach. “eli—slow down,” you whimpered, voice barely a breath. “it’s too much.”

he wasn’t hearing none of that. he caught your wrists and twisted them roughly behind your back, pinning them in one strong hand. “you gon take whatever the fuck i give you.” without breaking rhythm, he lifted one leg up, planting his foot on the edge of the bed. the shift in angle had your spine arching, eyes flying open as the next thrust punched a cry straight from your chest.

he was deeper now, way deeper. dick punching at your g-spot. your face dropped to the mattress, fingers clawing at the sheets. you could barely breathe, and he didn’t let up. just kept digging deeper, rough and steady, the grip he had on your hips making sure you stayed right where he needed you.

“yeah,” he rasped, sweat dripping down his temple. “keep runnin that mouth, now look at you. can’t even talk.” broken moans spilled from you uncontrollably. you was sounding like you were possessed by the dick. repeating his name like a broken record. “sound real obedient now, huh?” his voice turned low, mocking, the gold on his tooth flashing with each groan behind you. “lil mouthy ass always actin like you don’t remember who you belong to.”

he leaned forward then, chest pressing into your back, lips right by your ear. “you do now, though, don’t you?” you nodded desperately, voice gone, body limp except for the way your thighs trembled from being split open and stuffed full.

you started shaking, vision blurry, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth. heat bloomed from your core, spreading through your belly and straight up your spine. your mouth fell open, a soft string of moans tumbling out, breath hitching every time his hips slammed into yours.

your pussy clenched around him on instinct, thighs trembling as you tried to hold yourself up. but you were so close, you could feel it coming. his grip tightened on your waist, pulling you back harder into him. “you about to cum, baby?” he rasped, breath hot on your spine.

you barely managed a nod, a broken, desperate “yes” escaped your throat as he drove into you deeper. “that’s it. cream on my dick”, he growled. “i feel you mama.” your legs gave out completely, collapsing at the weight of your release. the orgasm that hit you was blinding, hips jerking, thighs twitching, body rocking with wave after wave of pleasure as your cries filled the room. you were sure anyone that came into the house would here you, but you didn’t care.

he kept going, fucking you through the aftershocks, letting you ride it all out. “damn, you soaking my shit.” he then flipped you onto your back like you weighed nothing. your legs fell open, lower half completely soaked and mind in the clouds. his body hovered over yours, his face twisted in that look he always got when he was about to nut, jaw clenched and eyes wild.

he lined up again, quick and calculated. one deep thrust and he was buried inside you, both hands sliding beneath your knees, pushing your legs up to your chest. “look at me,” he grunted. “eyes on me while i cum in this pussy.” you could barely breathe, let alone think, but you did, eyes locked on him, lips parted, whispering his name.

“take it”, he snarled. “take all this nut. i’m about to put another baby in you. you want that mama?” you nodded your head fast. “i wanna be a momma again,” you sobbed out, voice breathy and broken, thighs trembling where they clung around his waist. “gimme another baby, elias.” your nails clawed at his back, desperate to hold on to something, anything, while your body shook beneath his. “make me yours again,” you whispered against his lips, eyes glossy, lips swollen. “put one in me so i never forget.”

his strokes got meaner, like he wanted to carve himself into you. like he needed you to feel him even when he wasn’t around. his mouth dropped open, head tilted back, gold glinting as he groaned through his teeth, “okay, mama. i got you.”

his rhythm turned ragged, hips stuttering as he buried himself deep one last time. you felt the pulse of him inside you, warm, thick ropes filling you up, spilling out around his dick. you felt the weight of him collapse onto you, chest pressed to yours, his breath ragged and warm against your collarbone. he whispered low, sweet praise into your ear, words only meant for you. he then eased off you slow, dragging himself out like he hated to leave, his body already missing yours.

he didn’t go far though. just to the other side of the bed, where he leaned against the headboard, chest rising and falling to catch his breath, and dick still standing at attention. his chain rested crooked on his collarbone, catching the light as he reached over on the nightstand to grab one of his pre-rolled blunts, lighting it with a flick of his lighter.

you were curled into the bed, trying to catch your breath. trembling from overstimulation, thighs slick and warm, breath coming in uneven puffs. but when your eyes met his — dark and hooded, full of lust and love, you felt your heart skip a beat. "cmere," he murmured, voice dragging low and thick, smoke slipping between his lips as he stared you down. “we not done girl, come ride this dick.”

you blinked, eyes widened, lips parted in disbelief, and body already reacting before your brain could catch up. his legs were spread, one hand resting lazily on his thigh while the other held his pre-roll near his lips. that smug smirk crept up slow as he mockingly patted his thigh, like it was your permanent seat. “i’m nuttin all in that pussy. ain’t stopping till im shooting blanks”

his dick jumped with the promise of more, still thick and hard, despite busting a nut, slick from both of yall juices. he was making it hard to say no. and you didn’t have the energy to resist him.

A/N: omg who wrote this?!?);&:& anyways this was my FIRST time writing smut so tell me how i did😏. moral of the story don’t bring your new nigga around your baby daddy, unless you wanna get put through the mattress! i proofread this a few times, but if you see any mistakes ignore or you’re anti black LMFAOOOO. i hope yall enjoyed, feedback is welcome <3!!!! (im definitely dropping more bd!stack)

stack having a son inspo

LAYOUT INSPO: @dollerin

TAGS: @zomqiez @n3atjok3r246 , idk why it’s not letting me tag the rest sigh.

small confession … im a smoke girly so next up is smoke fics! what yall want next modern!plug smoke orrrr 30s!smoke.

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