#stack and reader

[thevelvetwhispers]

Elias 'Stack' Moore — SINNERS Masterlist

@euon111a — smokestack blues

@crystalgemcrusaders — til death do us part

@writerofautumnnights — a dance with the devil

@livingmybestfakelife — love rollercoaster

@rdmasevi — blood & blues

@aviawrites — love bites

@fckwritersblock — i never told you [part 1]

@fckwritersblock — what i should've said

@cloveroctobers — act right

@raysogroovy — lead astray [part 1]

@notapradagurl7 — his woman

@mrsknowitallll — soon as i get home

@luna-thecreator — glint and gone

@coldeforprez — is it the way

@solastarr — ms. notsoindepentdent

@willyoubemycherryy — no guidance | fyt

@saudad3 — private photoshoot [prison!au]

@boujaeelibrat — dan

@kumkaniudaku — creatures of the night

@pyraomen — jolene, i am a woman too

@bxunyx — mr. wrong

@enticingmelanin — the reckoning

@szatears — fashion killa [modern!au]

@bananafieldnotes — outta control

@spencersmopbucket — daddy's girl

@mereyapalais — les retrouvailles

@theethighpriestess — light my fire

[thecontortionistsportal]

I think it’s worth a shot guys

[robsdiary]

STILL not over this. [tt post by cawlmepretty]

[willyoubemycherryy]

No Guidance (Stack.M x R)

Summary: You’re just getting to the good part.

Contains: Flirting, some smut, Mary slander, cursing, everyone has a southern accent, platonic smoke with reader, a little dancing, MARY SLANDER, and I don’t care I don’t fucking like her, this is for the _ strictly for the _, kissing, making out, a hint of manhandling, established relationship, choking, allusions to sex and one brief flashback of some impact play, Michael B Jordan fine as hell, fine enough to bring me out of retirement

-There’s just not enough mindless smut of sinners, almost no x reader bc they’re all OC 😔 and please tell me how we feel about the daddy thing bc Stack screams daddy kink and in the next part👀…

A/N: act like I’ve been here the whole time.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉

“Uh-uh. We not doin’ none of that. Not tonight. Get ta steppin’”.

You level a look at the pale woman standing in the doorway, raising an eyebrow when she crosses her arms- fixing you with a glare of her own. She really was lucky you 50 percent Christian- otherwise, you’d have turned her every way but inside out.

It was no surprise that Mary was there- given her history with Elias or “Stack”. Of course she’d come running the minute she heard he was back in town along with his brother and cousin…but running to where? Not up in here.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere cause I have business in there.” Mary points the loud crowded space behind you and you push your shoulder from off the side of the doorway. You knew all about Mary. You may have empathized a little with her but you damn sure didn’t like her. She was the past in a future that needed her gone in order to make it and her refusal in understanding that irked you immensely. To you, she was selfish- plain and simple.

“You also ‘bout to have a foot up yo ass because the only business in there is the one my man is tendin’ to and you can’t possibly be talkin’ ‘bout him?” You pose it like a question but you leave no room for debate in your voice.

She was there for Stack. She wasn’t getting Stack.

Your question was met with a scoff but otherwise silence. Mmhm. That’s what you thought. Stepping back, you get ready to close the door since you were not about to stand and argue with Mary all night; fixing her with the same ugly glare she always gives you before leaning down to whisper in her face,

“Go be a good bitch and find a new master or I’ll be the one to walk you.”

Slamming the door with a satisfied grin, you turn around to go find a friend of yours and ask her to watch the door. It took some convincing since she was the strict one out of your group but it had to be her because as much as you love the twins and trust their judgment (mostly), Cornbread could not be the one to watch the door the entire night. After agreeing that you’ll owe her one, you leave to grab a drink of your own and judging by the look on Smoke’s face as you pass him- you didn’t look happy.

“Ooh. Who did it?” He drawls out as his eyebrows draw together in a slight frown. He knew about his brother and Mary’s sordid past because of course he did but he also knew how you and Stack have been since day 1.

He still remembers the day they met you…barefoot and sass-mouthed serving drinks at your mommas little dive bar.

“Aww twins~ Wait-! don’t tell me! Y’all gots ta be Double and Trouble!” Laughing like a hyena until your mama threw a spoon from the kitchen and you ducked- smacking your teeth before hurrying off to get their liquor.

That was it.

A pretty young server and good malt..until they came back for another couple rounds one night and you were still barefoot but this time, you wasn’t serving no drinks. Instead, you were standing in the middle of the room singing with a voice so sweet and strong that it rang through their head for the rest of the night. Smoke saw an amazing gift. Stack had seen a gift and something more…

“Just some go-go flour ranger. Nobody important.” Damn. Smoke winces with a soft hum at the insult yet knowing exactly who you mean. You always were creative with your insults- never missing in hitting where it hurt. Taking a deep breath, the beat of the music temps up and he passes you your drink and you sip at it, nodding along to the music as you start to loosen up. Tonight wasn’t the night and neither were any of the others. Tonight was supposed to be the continuation of their new pages turning- and that meant the end of whatever beef was between you, Mary, and his brother.

Smoke watches you start to move and raises a brow; broad smile growing across his face, making his dimples pop out as something comes to him.

“You gon’ sing a lil sum’ for us?”

Reaching out, he takes your hand to twirl you with a soft grin and you let go afterwards to fake think for a bit. Sammy currently had the floor and he was doing great plus…you sorta had other plans for the night. Smoke huffs a laugh, noticing that glint in your eyes- the one you got when you were fixing to get a kick out of causing trouble.

“Ohh, I get it. You in a just dancin’ mood tonight, huh?”

You get another drink and finish that one quick before nodding slowly before moving closer with a grin.

“Smoke, y’know, I neva’ woulda pegged you as a dancin’ man but if you’re offering-“,

“Oh nah baby, he ain’t but I am.”

The low words are whispered against the shell of your ear with a heat that sends shivers licking up your spine. Big, familiar hands fit themselves on your shoulders while Stack dips his head lower to press soft, full lips against your throat- directly over your pulse point and your heart jumps; you barely holding back a gasp. You look at the space where Smoke had been standing before he made himself scarce with a lighthearted “don’t wear y’selves out” and try to gather yourself, turning in Stack’s arms to face him.

Lidded, mellow chocolate eyes focused on you with plump lips pulled up in a smirk framed by dimples greet you and you roll your eyes. Shaking your head lightly as you swallow a whine.

There really was such thing as being too fine and Stack was proof. Strong hands glide themselves further down your sides, settling on the space just above your ass, never taking his eyes off yours and the intensity of him sparks something inside you.

“Been lookin’ for ya. Shoulda known yous’ somewhere in here causin’ trouble, hmm?”

It’s a lot warmer than you remember it being a couple minutes ago but no matter how deep you inhale, it doesn’t go away. That’s when you realize that the room hasn’t gotten any hotter than it’s already been.

But you have.

Your mouth barely opens to retort before Stack’s is covering it completely with his- slow, consuming and so deep. You truly can’t help the way you melt into him. Heart pounding with adrenaline and something much more tantalizing at the way Stack leads, plush lips firm against yours as you suckle at each others mouths. You only had two drinks but you already feel drunk; senses heightened and so sensitive that you’re borderline vibrating. Blood flowing through your system with a searing rush.

Stack harshly sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and your pulse drops like a boulder into the lava pooling in your lower stomach; sending waves ricocheting through your body before licking deep into your own just in time to muffle the nasty little moans threatening to slip out while his tongue memorizes every inch of your mouth and the pleasure has you on the way to out of your mind and he knows it.

You were unyielding to everyone and everything else except him and Stack used that to his advantage each and every time. He’d always been good at getting people to listen to him but the way you gave into him was the sweetest thing he’d come to know. From the way your doe eyes would get wide whenever he’d say or do something that set you off and you’d find yourself wanting him- to the way you were purring and sighing like a cat now, snuggling your soft pretty self tight against him while he devoured your mouth; lips smacking hungrily against yours.

By the time you two separate, his hand is a little too close to your throat and you suddenly want everyone to go home.

“Don’t be lookin’ at me like that baby. 'Else I might think we have a problem.” Stack drags his lips from the corner of your lips to your cheek, rasping lowly into your ear and you whine in frustration, shifting in his hold.

“And what if we do?”

The hand that was at first only close to your neck, slides up to wrap around it. Loose enough but heavy like a collar and you go dizzy from how hard your cunt throbs, biting your swollen lip as you bat pretty lashes up at him.

Now, Stack learned early that you had a thing for sass-mouthing. You, learned quickly that Stack didn’t have much patience for being sass-mouthed. So if there was something you wanted from him, you learned the first time he spanked your ass raw while being stuffed with three of his thick fingers but nothing else- to ask for it real nice and polite. Your tone though, would be the death of you.

“Then I’m sure we can come to an agreement”, his hand squeezes quick before releasing as he presses another hard kiss to your lips, “Right baby?” You nod before you can stop yourself, body roaring with molten need and you blurt out,

“Tell everyone to go home.”

A surprised bark of laughter shoots from his chest and he raises an amused brow as he looks down at you.

“C’mon, you know I can’t. We just opened this place a few weeks ago, mamas. Gotta break it in.” You throw your head back with a groan, rolling your eyes as you mumble under your breath.

“Wish you’d break me in…”

“Huh?”

“What?”

You ask back just as fast and Stack whistles lowly, shaking his head before dragging you in by your throat so close that you’re standing between his legs. He drops his forehead against yours and just takes a couple seconds to look at you- breathe you in before he has you begging for the better half of the night.

“Nah, what was that?”

“What was what?” You could play dumb with the best of em. Grinning innocently like you had all the time in the world to play your games and Stack was all too ready to play with you. Especially when he knew he’d win.

“You gon’ make me get it outta you, pretty girl?”

Your heart skips a beat and he notices your eyes doing the thing when you answer:

“If you think you can then go ahead.”

Stack nods slowly, moving his hand off your throat to take your hand instead. Rising to his full height, he leads you up to the office of the joint, guiding you in first then closing the door behind you both with a click and makes his way towards you.

His stride reminds you a lot of a predator getting ready to jump on their prey and you only hope that you’re left shaking afterwards…

Part 2🫶🏽

-p.s. can y’all guess who’s next?

Another note- agree or disagree about Mary in the comments but be respectful to one another. I delete comments and block people so chill and type accordingly.

[tforpresz]

Finals are almost over, so I'm redoing the list yayy. I will update more as I come across them but if anyone has any recommendations comment pls!!! ALSO THANK YOU TO THE AMAZING WRITERS THAT ARE PUTTING OUT THESE WORK I LOVE Y'ALL DOWN 🫂🫶🏽

Work by @writerofautumnnights A Dance with the Devil

Works by @jazziejax ModernAU Jumpin' (SmokexBlack!OC,StackxBlack!OC) From the Same Cloth(SmokexBlack!OC,StackxBlack!OC)

Work by @hotgrlcece Fever (soon to be out,StackxReader)

Work by @strangerexee Sir,You're Too Fine (Bo ChowxReader)

Works by @livingmybestfakelife Castle Made of Sand (StackxReader, PlatonicSmokexReader) Love Rollercoaster (pt1)(StackxReader) Love Rollercoaster (pt2)(StackxReader) Waiting to Exhale(SmokexReader)

Works by @rdmasevi The One Who Asked (RemmickxReader) The Long Night (RemmickxReader) Blood&Blues (StackxReader) Bloodlines&Blues (Stack and SmokexReader)

Works by @aviawrites Love Bites (StackxOC) Wait For Me (SmokexOC) Anastasia Antoinette (StackxOC, SmokexOC)

Works by @fckwritersblock I Never Told You (Pt1,StackxBlack!Reader) What I Should've Said (PT2) Works by @spikedfearn Mercy Made Flesh Upon the Scarlet Alter Work by @uzumaki-rebellion Choose One (Smoke,Stack&OC. first three chapters posted)

Drabbles by @crystalgemcrusaders Til Death Do Us Part(Stack) They Are All Sinners(18+)(Stack) Headcanon-devils temptation:NSFW(Smoke) Work by @melancholymetropolis "Stop pretending that you hate me" (StackxReader) Work by @coldeforprez Is It The Way;2003 teaser (StackxBlack!OC)

Works by @szatears Just a lil' something (SmokexReader,Plantonic StackxReaer) ModernAuSmoke (personal fav 🤭) Three's Trouble (StackxBlack!Reader, StackxMary, MaryxBlack!Reader) Works by @spookysanta The Stack Effect 1/3 The Stack Effect 2/3

Work by @freshbakedbreadstick Advantages and Disadvantages (Smoke&StackxPOC!Reader) Work by @ughdontbeboring Let Me In (SmokexWOC!ReaderxStack)

Work by @starcrossedxwriter Still Standing pt1 (SmokexBlack!Reader) SmokexReader sneak peak

if any author wants to be removed, let me know and I'll glad do so 😁

also here are the A03 works :) A' Lil Taste by Katetypes (Sammie rec) Blood Ties by Xoslimm26 (Remmick fic) níl sé ina lá, níl a ghrá by Subedarling (Remmick/reader) Where's There's Smoke, There's Fire by CreativeBuzz (Smoke/Annie, my parents fr) Dangerous by Cohrareads (Stack/Mary)

[aviawrites]

wait for me (sinners)

!s: smoke x female!oc

summary: Rue has worked for years to forget Elijah Moore and what he left her with before he ran to Chicago. But when she sees his ambitious twin in the square, all of their history comes rushing back. (3.1k)

a/n: it has been so long, but Sinners is truly a movie in its own category. i also need to preface that i am black for this story. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: swearing, n word use (by smoke and stack), mentions of child loss, abortion, sex, racism

in this story, our characters name is: Rue

Elijah Moore and I never had a complicated relationship. Hell, Smoke might even say we had none at all. But for years after he ravaged me in that car outside of the bar, I thought about him every night. We were together, I’d say — Boyfriend and girlfriend for as long as his grief consumed him. But the moment Annie found out, Smoke disappeared from my arms and was at her feet, begging for forgiveness. I don’t blame her, not in the slightest — I can only imagine that those were some of their darkest times.

Elias, on the other hand, him and I had a complicated relationship. When I found out that Smoke left a piece of himself in me, there was no way I could tell him, not after what he’d just been through. So I went to the closest thing to him, Stack. And although what we had is never to be considered romantic, there was something there — Familial, even. He knew it, Mary knew it, and for that very reason I was never allowed within an 100 foot radius of the twins until the day they left, not if I wanted to feel welcome.

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📍 Train Station || 12:00pm

The feelings from all those years ago bubble up inside me and form a twist in my gut when I see that all-too-recognizable burgundy top hat. My feet move before my mind can stop them, and in no time I’m approaching my old friend.

Stack flashes a gold toothed smile. “I’ll be damned.”

I return the nicety, pulling him in for a warm hug.

“Word spreads fast,” I nod. “Y’all still got the same appeal you had all them years ago.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, darling. I know it.” His cocky smile takes me back, the only thing differentiating him from his brother being his energy.

“Do I even want to know why you came back?”

“You heard it as good as I did." He gestures toward little Preacher Boy and the old man. “We’re opening a Juke Joint tonight, right there down at the old mill.”

“Y’all never could stay still. Chicago wasn’t change enough for you?”

He shrugs. “Figured we should deal with a devil we know. Besides, we miss the tricking.”

“Mmm,” I hum. “Well if Miss Pearline back there is singing, I might just pay this Joint a visit.”

Stack looks past me and at the polka dottted woman walking away from Preacher Boy. 

“Shit, if that’s what it takes for you to come, it’s done.”

Always so charming.

He ogles me, his eyes scanning up and down my exposed arms.

“What’s this?” Stack rubs his fingers over the dark ink lining my skin — Art ranging from numbers to symbols to simple symmetric images. 

“You know I’m an artist, boy.” I pull my arm back, scoffing. “Figured I’d get a few permanent ones to remember a few things.”

“And you talking about we couldn’t stay still. I’ll be visiting to get a look at those paintings of yours one of these days.” Stack’s grin begins to fade as he looks over my shoulder. 

Preacher Boy walks up and nears his cousin. “This white woman’s been staring at you—“

“Yea, I see her…”

He shoos Sammie away and tries to walk me off, but I’m already well aware of what shark is in the water — I can hear her heels clicking behind me.

“Now is this Smoke? Or is that Stack?”

I turn my head. “Hi, Mary.”

No response. Only a rough shoulder check as she stands in front of me and nears Stack.

He looks over her head and at me. “I’ll holler at you, Rue—“

Mary interrupts. “No, you’re not talking to fucking Rue right now. You’re talking to me.”

Stack huffs, looking back down at the woman dressed in pink. I give him a ‘have fun dealing with that’ look before turning and catching my train. 

Of all the women wrapped around the twins’ fingers, Mary has got to be the most spiteful of them all. For no good reason, though. Contrary to her belief, I never once slept with Stack, never even thought of it. But as far as she knows, I kissed him all the way to where the sun don’t shine, and then some.

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📍 Juke Joint || 10:00pm

This old mill has lit up under the construction of the twins. People hoot and holler as Pearline ignites the stage, turning into the musical beast I knew she would the minute she started singing. Having no dance partner, I simply clap along, moving my body to the beat alone. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the same damn burgundy hat that I saw only hours ago.

I can feel Annie’s eyes burning holes into my skull as I sit at the bar, Stack walking up to me.

“Now who the hell did y’all rob to afford this place? Ain’t this being sold from the Klan?” I shout across the bar, my voice being drowned out by Pearline’s Pale, Pale Moon.

Stack shakes his head. “Not Klan, just crackers. You know we got money, girl. Don’t do that.”

“Yea, well blood money don’t count. So how much you got now?”

He pulls his pockets inside out, amusing me.

I chuckle, placing my money on the bar. “Y’all have blackberry bourbon smash?”

“I don’t know if I can do that for you…” 

His fake frown quickly turns into a grin as he takes the money, relaying my order to Grace.

“Fancy motherfuckers,” I mumble.

“What was that?” Stack eggs me on.

My eyes scan the bar, but all I can focus on is that hateful scowl on Annie’s face.

“I said all these women hate me.” 

Stack scoffs. “Only those particular women.”

That’s more than enough for me I think.

He leans in, his lips grazing my ear.

“You know none of these girls got shit on you, Rue. They ain’t half as strong either.”

A small smile grows on my face, matching Stacks. He goes to hand me back my cash, but I slide it back to him.

“I don’t need it,” I front.

“Yea? Well me neither. So you gon’ fucking take it.”

I roll my eyes, pocketing the change and standing with my drink. I’ve barely made it away from the bar when cigarette smoke cascades from over my head. Instinctively looking up, I finally see him. 

Smoke stares down at me from the balcony with that hard expression he always wears. It’s so strange, seeing that rock solid glare. When we first met in a dingy bar on the side of a dirt Mississippi road, he hung his head low and seemed to always have glossy eyes. I didn’t believe him when he told me he was Smoke. When he fucked me that night, and many a nights after that, it was slowly — With passion, and often tears followed the act. But now his eyes are as dry as a dessert and they pierce a hole through mine. 

He takes another blow of his cigarette before turning his back to me, retreating into a room. I have no choice but to follow him, even if it’s just to get yelled at to go away as he did the last time we met. I take my time, downing my glass of bourbon as I walk up the stairs. I can’t pinpoint exactly why, but my heart thumps in my chest just before I open the door, all of the thoughts of what we could’ve had rushing back to my mind like they did eight years ago.

I enter the dimly lit room, closing the door behind me and leaning on it.

“Hi, Smoke,” I say lowly, unable to read his face.

“Why you here, Rue?” he grumbles, a roughness to his voice. “I’m already stressed the fuck out with this opening shit. Stack ain’t helping.”

“I don’t want no trouble. Just came for the music.”

“You being here is plenty trouble enough.” He scans my body the same as his brother, blowing his cigarette again. “You can’t find music no place else?”

“You want me to leave?” I ask honestly.

“Yea, I want you to leave. You think those women down there want you to leave too or are we acting stupid tonight?”

“They never even tried to like me, Smoke,” I sigh, my legs bringing me closer to him. I place my hand on his bicep, like I did all those years ago. “They got no idea what we had.”

He puts his hand on mine, pulling it off. “That was a moment of weakness, Rue. Whatever you think we had is gone now." 

I blink to avoid tears from forming. My first ever love, my first ever relationship being chalked up to a moment of weakness chips away at my heart. If it’s what he has to tell himself to dig out of the deep guilt he feels, so be it. But he won’t sit in front of me and act like what we had wasn’t real — Like it isn’t still there.

“So you're saying if the Juke was going good and Annie wasn't watching you like a hawk that you wouldn't entertain me? Wouldn’t consider us?"

Smoke shakes his head. “No, I really wouldn’t.” His brows furrow as he looks at me, seeming to remember a detail that he had previously forgotten. “And your cheating ass can take your business elsewhere.”

I can’t act surprised, not anymore. We allowed him to believe my infidelity as truth, Stack and I. Letting him think I went after his brother was easier than letting him know what Stack was really helping me do…At least it was in the moment. But as he stands in front of me now, I want nothing more than to ease his pain, calm his anger, and tell him the truth — Even if solely to stop him from loathing me so greatly.

“I didn’t cheat on you, Smoke.”

“Bullshit,” he stops me. 

“No, listen.” I step toward him. “I respected what you and Annie had, Smoke. I really did. And I understood that the loss of your baby caused you to make decisions that you might regret, even if that decision was being with me. So when you told me to leave you alone, I did. But I didn’t know if that still stood when I found out that we had a baby…”

The words feel odd coming out of my mouth. I tried so hard at the time to disconnect myself from it, calling the baby a thing inside my stomach rather than what it was: Mine and Smoke’s child.

His brows have smoothened out now and he’s actively listening, his eyes flashing from my face to my stomach and back to my face.

I continue. “I didn’t visit Stack all those nights to get at him. Smoke, I never wanted anybody but you. But God put it on my heart to give you and Annie peace, so we went at it alone. No one knew. He paid a few women to make the drink without telling them who it was for. It only took a few hours for the bleeding to start…”

My voice trails out. I’m unable to finish as flashbacks to that night replay in my head. My mama held me tighter that night than she ever had before…I hated Smoke that night more than I ever had before.

Tears line his eyes now.

He chokes on his words, his voice now much lower. “Don’t you lie to me, Rue…” 

“I wouldn’t lie, baby,” I assure him.

I hold my arm out for him, revealing the tiny footprint tattooed on my wrist, a small E underneath it. 

“We couldn’t be sure, but I had a feeling it was a boy. Ezra, I was thinking. Stack hated the name but…” I shrug. 

Smoke runs his thumb over the tattoo, holding my hand in his. He attempts to discreetly wipe his tears, but I see them all the same. Looking up at him, his face can only be compared to the face he made when we spoke about his late baby, which wasn’t often at all. A mix of anger, sorrow, and fear. 

Perhaps he’s considering what could have been, just like I used to — Just like I still do. I used to curse God for putting me in such a position. A second chance for Smoke to be a father, but at the worst of times. I’d have dreams of talking to a clone of myself, telling her that she owed it to Smoke to tell him about the baby. It’s only now that I really see the consequences of my decision.

Smoke looks at me, and then at the door. It’s as if a switch has flipped and he’s forced all of those emotions to turn into one…anger. He reaches for the door, but I lean against it.

“Smoke, it’s already done,” I tell him, holding my hand against his chest. “I just couldn’t take you hating me no more.”

“Move out the way, Rue,” he says, not hearing a word I say.

“I don’t want to cause a scene. Please.”

“You think I give a fuck about causing a scene? Move out of the fucking way.”

“Smoke, it hurts enough as it is—“

“You’ve got one more time, woman.”

“There’s nothing we can do now!”

He wraps a hand around my arm, yanking me just enough to pull me away from the door and swinging it open. I run out behind him, but he’s already looking down the overlook.

“STACK!” he shouts down, the name echoing through the building. 

Everybody looks up, including Mary and Annie. Stack stares up at us, blowing smoke through his nose, before turning back to the crowd. He tells them to resume, nudging Sammie to keep playing. After a moment of silence and a few stray whispers, the music begins again and Pearline starts her singing. Mary holds Stack close, asking him not to go — But as always, the twins do what they want when they want. As Stack rounds the corner, I retreat back into the room, unprepared for what reaction he might have.

He’s barely entered before Smoke pins him against the wall, his forearm over Stack’s chest.

“The fuck?”

“Is it true?” Smoke demands, maintaning his cig in his pinning hand.

I close the door, shouting over the music. “Smoke, stop!”

He ignores me, continuing to press his brother. “Un-uh, I asked you a question, nigga. Did you know she had my baby?”

Stack’s eyes shoot from Smoke to me. I can only nod, giving him permission to tell the full truth as I just did. Stack relaxes, putting his hands up.

“I only did it to protect you, mane.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“You gon’ let me go so I can explain?” 

Smoke lingers before reluctantly letting his brother go with a shove. He puts a hand in his pocket, staring Stack down.

He gestures his cig at his brother. “Talk.” 

Stack smoothens his suit, lighting one of his own. “You know I don’t like that shit, Smoke—”

“Talk.”

He sighs, putting on a smile once more as he tries to explain calmly. 

“When y’all two broke shit off we didn't know we were even going to Chicago, Smoke. Shit, I still thought you and Annie were gonna get married and buy you a house. Rue said you told her to stay away to make that happen, so I helped her stay away. Now we both know she’d never forgive you if you had a baby with another woman.”

“But my baby is none of your fucking business.”

“I was trying to give you a life, nigga,” Stack urges. “Annie is where that life was at. Fuck I look like throwing Rue back at you when you didn’t want her?”

“My baby, Stack.”

Guilt boils inside of me. I never allowed myself to entertain the idea of keeping the baby. There was no way I’d bring him into this world without a father, and Smoke had Annie, so I thought I had no choice. But seeing him blink back his tears now makes me second guess every moment that the baby was inside of me.

Stack thinks carefully about his next words, his smile having faded as he sees how serious his brother is taking this.

“I’m sorry, man,” he shrugs, his tone softer now. “I did what I thought was safest for all y'all, you hear me?” 

Smoke is about to speak when a hard knock pounds the door. 

“Stack?” Mary’s familiar voice rings out from the other side.

“Now I gotta get back to the Joint.”

I hold my head low. “Bye, Stack.”

He heads toward the door, but not before turning to his brother one more time.

“We good?”

Smoke looks from me to Stack, giving him a small nod.

“Get out of here ‘fore I say no.”

Stack only smiles, swinging the door open. I stand beside him, greeting Mary.

“Oh my— Not this trifling bitch again, Stack.” She rolls her eyes.

“Come on. Lay off, Mary.”

“I think you owe her a goddamn apology,” Smoke intervenes, standing behind me.

I mumble, “it’s fine, Smoke.”

Mary scoffs. “For the fuck what?”

“For how you been treating her all these years.”

“How I’ve been treating her? You’re the one who fucked her for a month before running back to Annie.”

“You best watch your mouth, Mary.” He blows smoke toward her. “It’s not too late to pay one of them bitches downstairs to drag your ass out.”

“I’d like to see you try, Smoke—“

“Alright,” Stack interrupts. “Let’s go.” 

He pushes Mary away before closing the door behind him. I assume my previous position, leaning against the door — a much thicker tension in the air now.

“If you hate me even more after this, I understand.” I break the silence. “I don’t blame you. I just couldn’t let the truth belong to me and him alone anymore.”

Smoke stares at his feet, deep in thought. It’s become increasingly harder to tell what this man is thinking. He drops his cigarette, stepping on it.

“Now why would you do that on these new floors-“

His lips are on mine before I can finish, his hungry hands pulling up my dress. It’s automatic, the way my arm wraps around his neck, my hand nearing his crotch. He begins kissing down my neck, but I pull away. He stares at me, eyes wide.

“This isn’t a moment of weakness, is it?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I don’t need a moment of weakness to do what I’m about to do to you.”

I smile, bringing his lips to mine once more. 

Annie will hate me if she finds out, she might hate Smoke even more. But like I told him before, she has no idea what we have. And if I want to fuck my sinner one last time in this Juke Joint, that’s exactly what I’ll do. 

[strangerexee]

(1) ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ɢɪᴀɴᴛꜱ | ᴇʟɪᴊᴀʜ "ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ" ᴍᴏᴏʀᴇ

𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽!𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙶!𝙰𝚄

pairings: Elijah "smoke" Moore x black!fem!reader

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 | 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐/𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 | 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎/𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 | 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚜 | 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 (𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜), 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 | 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝-𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗���� 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚢 | 𝚃𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 | 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

You weren’t even supposed to be out that night.

Whole week had been trash — your boss on your ass, car acting stupid, apartment loud as hell with neighbors fighting through the walls.

You needed a break.

So when your girls hit you up — “Bitch, we outside tonight, put some heels on” — you said yes.

You didn’t even think twice.

Short dress. Glossy lips. The kind of heels that said you might make a bad decision if the right man breathed on your neck.

The club was packed — lights flashing, bass thumping deep in your chest — and you felt yourself finally breathe when you got a drink in your hand and a song you loved came on.

You were dancing, laughing, living your little free life — when you felt it.

Eyes.

Heavy.

Watching.

You turned your head — slow — and caught them across the room.

Two of them.

Tall. Built like trouble. Dark eyes gleaming under the lights like wolves in the woods.

And fine?

God help you.

One leaned back against the wall — arms folded, chewing on a toothpick — looking at you like he already knew what you tasted like.

The other was talking to some girl, but his eyes? Still on you.

You swallowed — heart hammering.

Your friends screamed when the song switched — dragging you further onto the dancefloor — but you kept glancing back.

Who the hell was that? You couldn't really tell.

Fast-forward twenty minutes — you outside cooling off, drink in your hand, scrolling on your phone.

And he stepped to you.

The one from inside.

Black jeans. Black hoodie. Gold chain swinging. Those heavy-lidded eyes eating you alive.

“What’s your name, lil’ mama?” he said, voice low and slow.

You squinted up at him — heart pounding — but your mouth moved faster than your brain.

He was tall in that way that made you straighten your spine, hoodie hanging loose on that broad-ass frame like it was clinging for dear life. Gold glinted at his neck, catching the low streetlights, and the way his eyes moved—

Slow. Unhurried. Heavy-lidded like sin itself.

He wasn’t blinking. Wasn’t smiling either. He was watching.

And it was doing something to you that your little glossed-up, club-ready self hadn’t prepared for.

You scoffed lightly, not letting your eyes linger too long on his mouth, or his hands—veined, tatted, big enough to make your thighs press a little closer.

“Who, me?” You sipped your drink. “I don’t know you like that, sir.”

That “sir” was sweet. Smart. Maybe a little sharp.

And it made his jaw tick.

He dragged his tongue across his teeth, slowly, like he liked the way you tasted already.

“You gon’ know me,” he said. “Sooner or later.”

Lord.

He didn’t say it loud. Didn’t say it with a smile.

Just���stated it. Like gravity. Like fact.

You swallowed hard and tried not to show how hot your neck was getting.

He took a step closer.

Not enough to scare you. Just enough for the space between you to feel smaller. Warmer.

You leaned back against the wall casually, trying to play it cute—but your pulse was thudding. Your friends were still inside, probably throwing ass to the beat, and you were out here flirting with a man who could’ve been the devil’s body double.

“What’s your name?” you asked, voice smooth.

He smirked—but barely.

“Smoke.”

“That your real name?”

“Nah. But it’s the one you need to remember.”

You hummed, glancing down at your phone. Trying not to melt.

You had heard the name before. People whispered about him.

And his brother, Stack.

The Moore twins.

Trouble in two different fonts.

But Smoke? Smoke was the one they said moved different. Quieter. Crueler.

The one you didn’t want mad.

He didn’t act out.

He handled shit.

And here he was. In your face. Asking your name like it wasn’t probably already in his notes app under “sweet lil’ thing in that pretty dress.”

“You dangerous?” you asked him, tilting your head.

“What you think?” he said, voice low. “I look dangerous to you?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

Didn’t need one.

Because the way your lashes dipped told him plenty. The way you bit the inside of your cheek, looked away real quick like you weren’t all hot in the chest…

Yeah. He knew what time it was.

But still—you had the final move. And you weren’t about to let him play you into giving it all up like a dumb little groupie.

So instead—you smiled.

Real pretty.

You put your hand out slow, took his phone when he offered it, and dropped your number in.

Just your first name. Nothing more.

He looked down at it like it was gold.

And when you handed it back—you leaned in. Light. Soft.

Kissed his cheek.

“That’s all you getting tonight, smoke.”

And then you turned—heels clicking, dress swaying—walking right back into the club like you hadn’t just left the king of the damn city standing there with your number in his hand and a smirk blooming slow on his face.

He didn’t even chase you.

Just watched.

You woke up in your bed with one heel still on and glitter in your eyelashes.

Head pounding.

Mouth dry.

Phone buzzing.

“Ughhh…”

You rolled over and squinted at the screen.

Smoke (Mobile) 9:07 AM.

Hell no.

You tossed the phone face down and curled back under the blanket. Mind still foggy with club lights and too many tequila shots, feet sore from dancing in heels you should’ve thrown out two summers ago.

The night felt like a dream.

A blur.

Except him.

You remembered him crystal clear.

That voice. That smirk. That goddamn cheek kiss you gave him like some sweet lil’ Southern belle.

You groaned into your pillow.

Why did you do that?

Phone buzzed again.

Smoke (Mobile) 9:12 AM.

Back-to-back?

You side-eyed the screen, biting your lip.

And then—

Third call.

Smoke (Mobile) Incoming Call…

You stared.

Then finally hit ignore.

“Sir, it’s not even 10am,” you muttered, dragging yourself upright.

You made it to the kitchen, sipping orange juice straight from the bottle like a menace, still in last night’s dress with one strap slipping off your shoulder.

You rubbed your temples, then your phone dinged.

Unknown Address shared a location with you.

Your stomach flipped.

No name. No message.

Just a red pin hovering over your damn building.

You froze.

Then another message dropped.

“Come open the door”

No punctuation.

No emojis.

Just that.

Your eyes snapped to the door.

Was he joking?

You tiptoed over, heartbeat in your damn mouth. Peeked through the peephole.

And there he was.

Black hoodie. Hood up. Leaning against the wall like he owned the entire floor. One hand in his pocket. Other hand holding his phone. Head down.

Smoke at your damn front door like he’d lived there his whole life.

You didn’t even think.

Just unlocked it.

He looked up when it clicked open — and that slow, heavy gaze rolled over you like smoke under a door.

“Damn,” he muttered, eyes dipping down your body. “You always look like this in the morning?”

You pulled the door open wider and stepped aside, blinking up at him.

“How the hell you know where I stay?”

He stepped in without answering, brushing your shoulder — his presence thick — that quiet heat pouring off him again.

He looked around slow. Clocked your messy counter, the couch, the half-dead plant in the corner.

“You live alone?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, arms crossed. “You still ain’t answer—”

“I will get to that,” he said, low. “I asked a question.”

You stared at him, mouth open.

He just smirked.

“Relax,” he said. “Ain’t like I kicked the door in. You let me in.”

Damn.

You did let him in.

Something about the way he stood — tall, calm, like a storm in a hoodie — made your mouth dry.

You cleared your throat.

“I need a shower.”

“Go ahead,” he said, tossing himself onto your couch like it belonged to him. “I’ll be here.”

You blinked.

He pulled his hood down, leaned back, spread his legs — just making space. His gold chain caught the light. His eyes flicked to you.

“Go on, baby. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You stood there like a deer in headlights, every nerve buzzing.

You turned and headed to the bathroom — lowkey speed-walking — and locked the door behind you.

Your back hit the wood. Chest rising and falling.

Why was this man in your house?

More importantly—

Why did it feel good?

You stripped, hot all over, and stepped into the shower.

Let the water run over you while your mind raced.

He was sitting on your couch.

Comfortable.

Knowing damn well you were naked in the next room.

And your heart was pounding like you liked it.

You stepped out, dripping, towel wrapped around you, and cracked the door open to peek.

He was still there. Phone in hand. One knee bouncing slow.

“You good?” he called out, not even turning around.

“Yeah…”

You closed the door fast and leaned against the sink.

He didn’t knock.

Didn’t ask to come in.

Just showed up.

Showed up and sat there like he belonged.

And maybe that was the scariest part.

Because some twisted, hungover, half-dressed part of you?

Kinda wanted him to.

Anyway —

You weren’t about to be that girl. Walking out in a towel like you ain’t have an ounce of sense. He was fine, yeah. Dangerous, yes. Built like everything you knew you should run from…

But still.

You had dignity.

Even if you did keep looking at yourself in the mirror—checking your face, adjusting your curls, heart thudding like you had something to prove.

You took your time. Went out the bathroom and into your bedroom.

Lotioned slow. Fresh pair of panties. Cotton shorts. Cropped tank top, soft and snug, your favorite one that always sat just right.

Simple. Cute. Still had a little “you can leave if you want, I ain’t pressed” to it.

Even though you were very much pressed.

You stared at the door for a second.

Took a breath.

Then turned the knob and stepped out.

The scent of your vanilla body cream followed you like a cloud as you moved through the hallway—each barefoot step slow, hesitant, but steady.

And there he was.

Smoke.

Exactly where you left him.

Leaning back into your couch like it was a throne. Legs spread. One arm tossed over the backrest. Phone gone now—he was looking at you.

Eyes dragging from your face, to your neck, to your waist, to your thighs.

Slow.

Like he was learning you.

“You clean?” he said, voice low, warm.

You nodded once.

“You still here?”

He smirked.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

“You mad about that?”

“I ain’t say that.”

He nodded, eyes never leaving yours.

“But you thought about it.”

You shrugged, stepping into the kitchen to pour a glass of water—partly to distract yourself, partly to avoid looking back at him.

He watched you move, the way your shorts hugged your curves, the way your fingers curled around the glass.

“You let all strangers up in your spot like this?”

“You a stranger?” you asked, turning to lean against the counter.

His lips curved.

“Not after last night.”

You swallowed and sipped slow, heart tight in your chest.

"I kissed your cheek — you're acting like we fucked."

He wasn’t loud.

He wasn’t boastful.

But something about the way he said it — like you were already his — made your skin hum.

“So,” you said, setting the glass down. “You just…decided to pull up? No warning?”

“You ain’t answer the phone,” he said simply. “You gave me your number, yeah? Thought that meant something.”

You squinted.

“So you tracked me down?”

“Didn’t have to,” he said. “You know how many people know you? Or watch you? You too pretty to be out here thinking nobody’s paying attention.”

That made your breath catch.

And he saw it.

He leaned forward a little, elbows on his knees, voice dropping deeper.

“Don’t matter how late you leave. Don’t matter what you post or what you don’t. Eyes on you. Always. I’m just the first one to say something about it.”

You didn’t know if you were flattered or terrified.

Maybe both.

But you crossed your arms, trying to act cool.

“You always this intense?”

“Only when I want something.”

That shut you up.

Because that gaze? That posture?

He didn’t look like he wanted your number anymore.

He wanted you.

And not in some quick, messy way.

No.

He wanted to pull you. Keep you. Figure out how your day started and ended. Learn what made you tick. Put his name in your phone and in your mouth, just to hear how it sounded.

He wanted to sit on your couch with his hood off and his legs wide and look at you like you were already home.

And it was scaring you.

Just a little.

“You hungry?” you asked finally, voice smaller than you meant.

He leaned back, eyes raking over you again.

“I’m good. Unless you cooking.”

“You ain’t getting all that today, sir,” you said, smiled a little. “I’m still hungover.”

“I could fix that.”

You gave him a look.

He just chuckled — low and short — like he already knew he’d wear you down eventually.

And maybe he was right.

Because when you sat down across from him, arms still crossed, biting the inside of your cheek —

You didn’t tell him to leave.

But the quiet stretched out thick between you.

Not awkward — but heavy. Heavy like smoke after a fire. The kind of silence that made your skin itch ‘cause you felt like you were supposed to be doing something, saying something — but he was doing just fine saying nothing.

His eyes moved slow when he looked at you.

Not greedy, but precise.

Like he was trying to clock your tells. Your tics. The way you blinked when you got nervous. The little tongue poke when you were being smart.

Made you wanna fidget.

But you didn’t.

You sat on that couch, one leg crossed over the other, arms still tucked under your chest like a shield, trying not to let your eyes drop to the gold chain hanging loose around his neck.

That chain was disrespectful.

“So what you do?” you asked finally. “For work. For money. Or is that a rude question?”

Smoke snorted low — amused.

“What I do,” he said, dragging the word out, “ain’t always something you ask in daylight. Especially not when you still smell like vanilla body oil and got your knees showin’.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Sir—”

“But since you asked,” he cut in, “I got a few things. People call. I handle it.”

“So vague.”

“You want details, or you want the truth?”

“Both.”

He smiled—slow, lazy, like it tasted good in his mouth.

“Truth is, I move weight. Truth is, I don’t clock in nowhere. Truth is…” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees again, head tilting just slightly. “I don’t let nobody tell me what to do. Been that way since I was fourteen.”

You blinked.

He didn’t sound like he was bragging. No hype, no theatrics. Just matter of fact. Like he knew what he was and wasn’t about to apologize for it.

“So you are perilous.”

“I’m useful.”

“That what they call it now?”

“Only when I’m being nice,” he said, eyes dipping low as he glanced over your body again, “which I usually ain’t.”

You felt your breath catch. Again.

God, this man was good.

“I feel like I should tell you I don’t get down with all that,” you said, voice light, deflecting. “I like peace. Quiet. I like my little paycheck and my little business and my little sanity.”

“And yet,” he said, “you still gave me your number.”

Damn.

He had you there.

You leaned back, lips pursed.

“You’re real sure of yourself.”

“Nah,” he said. “I’m just sure about you.”

You looked away.

Because what the hell do you say to that?

No man ever told you that before—not like that. Not like he meant it.

Not like he already decided that the two of you were something, and your mouth just hadn’t caught up yet.

“You ever get tired?” you asked. “Of acting like nothing scares you?”

“You ever get tired of pretending you don’t like when I act like that?”

You snorted, surprised.

“You good at reading people?”

“I’m good at reading you.”

That stopped you. Again.

You felt your arms uncross before you even realized you were doing it.

Like some part of you was already surrendering.

Your voice was softer when you said, “Why me?”

Smoke let that question sit.

Then —

“’Cause you smart. Real smart. But messy with it. Like you trying to keep it together and falling apart at the same time.”

You blinked.

Hard.

“And you pretty,” he added. “But you don’t lead with it. You act like it ain’t your weapon. That’s cute. Dangerous too.”

Your throat got tight.

“And I like the way you talk. Mouth slick. You got fight in you. But your eyes? They stay looking for something. You tired, but not done yet.”

His voice dropped.

“I like that.”

You weren’t sure what emotion was creeping up your chest, but it was hot. Heavy. A little scared, a little intrigued. A lot turned on.

You leaned your head back on the couch.

“You always do this?” you asked. “Pull girls in with that therapy voice and street prophet energy?”

“Nah,” he said. “You special. I don’t do repeat games.”

You swallowed again.

"Right, right..."

Felt your stomach knot.

“You staying long?” you asked.

“Long as you let me.”

You looked at him.

He was still sitting back like he owned the room. But now his hand was resting on his thigh, slow-tapping, like he was thinking about moving.

Like he wanted to.

“Don't you got a brother?” you asked randomly, needing to ground yourself.

He nodded.

“Twin.”

You tilted your head.

“Fraternal or Identical?”

“Identical.”

“So there's two of you running around town?”

Smoke smirked.

“Yeah. But he ain’t me.”

You smiled — real slow.

“Noted.”

He tilted his head.

“Why? You planning to test it?”

“I don’t repeat games either.”

That made him grin — wide this time.

“Told you,” he said. “You real slick. Keep playing like that and you gon’ have a hard time getting rid of me.”

“Who said I wanted to?”

You didn’t even mean to say that out loud.

But the way his eyes lit up? Whew.

“Aight then,” he said, voice silk. “Now we getting somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, checking the time without meaning to.

He’d been on your couch longer than some of your exes lasted in your bed. Legs spread like he paid rent here. Voice low and lazy like he had nowhere else to be.

So you said it.

“You don’t got shit else to do today?”

Smoke turned to you with that half-smirk, half-squint thing he kept doing. Like every word out your mouth amused him more than the last.

“I mean, I’m flattered,” you added, kicking your bare heel against the floor. “But I know y’all street boys don’t just sit still like this. Ain’t you got corners to stand on or money to count or something?”

He snorted.

“You think that’s all I do?”

“Ain’t say that,” you shrugged. “But I know you didn’t wake up and decide to play house on my couch. I’m not that fine.”

“You are that fine,” he said easily. “I just got better taste than time.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Boy, whatever.”

But he didn’t respond.

His phone buzzed.

Once. Then again.

You clocked the quick glance he gave it. The screen lit up bright across his thigh. He tapped it, turned it face-down, didn’t move.

“What’s that?” you asked, leaning a little.

“Nothing.”

“Your girl?”

That made him grin. Head tipping back a little as he stared at the ceiling like he couldn’t believe you asked that.

“You think I’d sit this long in your house if I had somebody else blowing up my shit?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen men do worse for less.”

“Ain’t my girl,” he said, straight-faced now. “If I had one, I’d have said it.”

You gave him a long look.

Didn’t say anything else.

But then the phone rang.

Loud. Sudden. The name flashed up — too quick for you to catch it — but his mood shifted the moment he saw it.

Just a flick of something. That calm-mask tightening.

“Yo,” he answered, standing up.

His tone dropped. Business.

He turned away, walked toward your door.

You stayed on the couch.

Didn’t ask.

You weren’t stupid. You didn’t need the details. Man like him? Phone call like that? It wasn’t brunch plans.

“Aight,” he said into the phone. “I’m on my way.”

He hung up.

Turned around.

And there it was — the shift back.

That calm he wore like armor.

You didn’t bother asking what it was. You already knew better.

Instead, you pulled your phone into your hand and scrolled. Just enough to let him know you weren’t pressed.

He watched you for a second. Then:

“Lemme get a kiss.”

You scoffed — head jerking up.

“You for real?”

“Deadass.”

“You wasn’t even here ten minutes and now you tryna act like this our place. Boy, please—”

“C’mon, baby,” he said, slow and syrupy. “You not gon’ do me like that.”

And the worst part?

You folded.

Not fast. Not right away.

But slow, like butter melting on hot bread.

You rolled your eyes — hard enough to give attitude — and stood.

“You so needy,” you muttered.

“You like that.”

You walked over.

He was already smirking.

And when you got close enough for him to reach — you knew.

You knew what he was gon’ do.

Still leaned in.

Still let him pull you in soft. One hand to your lower back, the other brushing your jaw.

His lips found yours like he’d kissed you before.

Like he’d been thinking about it since the second he saw you.

The kiss was slow — firm. Not sloppy, not rushed.

Just pressure. Warmth. Intention.

And right when you started to lean in deeper—

Boom.

Not one, but both his hands slid down to your ass.

Gripped.

Full palms, full squeeze.

You pulled back just enough to give him a look.

“Really?”

“You surprised?”

You tried to step back.

He didn’t let you.

Just stood there with that fucking smirk, hands still in place like they had a right to be there.

“You gon’ let go?”

“You gon’ ask me nice?”

“Smoke.”

“Aight, aight.” He finally eased up. “Go on then. I’ll call you.”

“Please don't.”

He leaned in one more time — kissed the corner of your mouth.

Then he was gone.

Door clicked shut behind him.

And your heart?

Still tapping a wild rhythm in your chest.

What the hell was that?

And why the hell did it feel like the beginning of something you wasn’t ready for?

[tojisteddy]

Just thinking about sitting in Smokes lap while he smokes.

cw: 18+ mdni, mild smut, modern au, age gap, pet names, daddy used once.

The music is always playing from the speakers around his house, weather is be blues or jazz, neo soul or 70s r&b. He sits on the back porch with your perched sideways in his lap so he can see your brown skin in the glow. The older man’s mocha brown eyes trailing all over you while he plays with your braids that he loves to pull on so much.

He’s waiting. For what exactly?

For you to finish rolling his cigarette.

Even though you can go and buy them from the store, something about his soul is genuinely old yet authentic. He’s not trying. He’d rather you or Stack do it for him (and Stack would rather you do it because hes told Smoke time and time again, theyre grown now and he should be able to do it himself). But he can’t, he’s not good at it, something about having being still and calm just for the few moments spikes his anxiety for some reason. A difference from his cool demeanor, that irrationality that’s always ready to pop out shows in that simple instant.

So he lets you roll for him, be it a cigarette or a blunt, he watches you to it like it’s second nature. Put the finished product to his plump lips and spark it to life.

“Good job mama, thanks.” He’ll exhale the tobacco, patting your thigh in appreciation.

Sometimes he’ll watch you smoke, the clouds forming between your two tone lips. Loves to shotgun whatever he’s smoking with you, brushing your lips ever to lightly and letting you blow the smoke into him.

Fucking adores how gorgeous you look. Your curls out of your face and enjoying the moment. Doesn’t laugh when you cough because you’re not used to it, simple corrections on how to smoke better, let it flow through you. Elijah just admires you even more, let’s you ramble on before kissing your shoulder blade. Gripping your waist and pulling you closer to cuddle into him.

And you adore how handsome he looks smoking, clearing his stress filled mind, the easy feeling taking over his body. It’s gentle, quiet as green eyes by Erykah Badu plays, the sunset basking on your skin.

And just maybe, he fucks you till your dumb right there, smoke blowing past you as Elijah watches from the side of his eyes your face contort in pleasure, your back to his chiseled abs, riding him in reversal. Your hands claw at his knees, hiccups and moans fill the air his eyes dance at the ripple of your ass against him with every bounce you make on his dick.

“Fuck- that’s it baby, fuck your Daddy so nice.”

a/n: something about Smoke is so sensual yet so soft to me, so dad bf, loving and caring, gruff yet understanding. idk.

most recent masterlist.

[lukkdev]

[woodle-isbae]

"Don't run from me now."

He pull you back by the waist, chuckling at how you whined from the fill he gave you. Stack had you bent over in a deep arch, screaming his name into the sheets of your bed.

"Oh c'mon now, ain't you the one that said–shit– you can take it?"

He groaned, slowing down his thrusts to get a better view of him dissapearing inside you, the thick ring of your juices rimmed around his base, some of it running down your shaking thighs.

"Mmm-fuck! Stack–waitt.!"

You tried grabbing at his hand to slow him down, only for him to grip at your wrist and use it as an anchor, pulling you slightly back to get a deeper arch and deeper range inside you.

"Allat' talk, look where that big mouth got you!"

He hissed out, grinding his hips oh so painfully against yours, managing to wrap his other hand right under you and rub at your clit, drunk on the way you clenched around him.

"Mnghf–fuuck! I'm gon' cum, Stack pleaseee!"

You cried out, body pushing right back against his in pursuit of your orgasm, the man above you only pressing his fingers down as he drew faster circles while drilling himself into you.

"I ain't stack 'round here baby, you know my name pretty."

It's cruel the way he had you right on edge, holding back from letting you burst–oh but you loved it, drooling into the pillow beneath your head from this.

"Mm..Elias—please, Elias!"

He groaned out, satisfied with the way his name was sung from your swollen lips, eyes rolling back as he gave a few weak thrusts. Your breathe caught in your throat before you broke out in curses and moans.

He had pulled out and layed next to your numb body, thumb rubbing at your shoulder after he presses delicate kisses.

Savoring the moment of his skin on yours and the intimacy of his embrace.

[pyraomen]

゛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.

─────────

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.

[prettyfilmz]

thinking about a dose of act right from stack rn….

warning: 18+ (minors stay away)

inspired by the mean!stack drabble I read from @cremeful (I love u babyyyy)

“uh uh, move that fuckin’ hand.” stack growls, thrusting deep into you from behind, removing your hand that desperately pressed on his stomach to pin against your lower back. “you was actin’ like you ain’t got no sense with your lil’ friends earlier, this is what the fuck happens.” the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your swollen, sensitive pussy was like porn to his ears. his length was coated with a thick creamy ring that was evidence of your previous orgasms. 

“p-please d-daddy ’s too m-much.” you sobbed, breathy pants and whimpers pouring out of your mouth as his cock kissed every spot inside the warm gummy walls of your cunt. “yeah? too much? daddy goin’ too hard?” he asked in a mocking tone, continuing to fuck you with the same pace but deeper this time relishing in your high pitched moans. 

“u-uh huh…n-eed a break,” you whined, head turning to the side to meet his hard gaze with your own teary lustful stare. brown eyes filled with tears of pleasure, plump lips forming a pout. “break? you so cute,” he chuckled sadistically which sent a throb to your core. “bratty ass ain’t even say sorry but you want a break.” he placed his hand on the back of your head, pressing you down into the mattress as he pounded into you furiously.

“okay! o-okay! ‘m sorry d-daddy..” you yelped as his heavy hand smacked her ass hard. “nah that ain’t good enough for me.” stack grunts, biting his lip. “you gon’ have to be real convincin’,” his hand reaches in between your legs to rub your engorged clit in small but fast circles with his fingers. 

“fuckfuckfuck! daddy w-wait!” you pleaded, feeling your 5th(? you honestly stopped counting after the second) orgasm crash over you. a smirk played at his lips as he continued to play with your throbbing pearl, moaning with your cries. warm, clear arousal squirts from your trembling hole, painting your thighs and his own. 

“mmhmm gimme that nut baby, let it go.” he cooed as he fucked you through the aftershocks. a few moments later, he pulled out of you slowly, your pussy fluttering as it clenched around nothing. 

you plop your body down into the bed, trying to catch your breath, sniffling as you met his face again. “‘m sorry..I didn’t mean it.” you tried again. stack reached over and pressed a kiss into your curls. “I know you are,” he hummed, trailing a hand over your trembling body. “but you wanna know what you can do to really make me forgive you?”

your eyes widen with the understanding that this punishment was not at a cool down…but a warm up.

“gimme that fuckin’ mouth and maybe daddy will forgive ya’.”

sinners taglist: @cafeluvs @cremeful @mirathebookworm @a4g3lstarfire @monstaxmomma0 @bl3ssyn @thecoloredpages @dumb-b4mbi @spiicii @wrestlingprincess80 @transparentphantomface

if you'd like to be a part of my taglist, sign up here to be the first to see my newest drops! 🫧

[chromehoney]

yearning!bestfriend!smoke x black!curvy!nasty!fem!reader

You and Smoke been thick as thieves since before y’all even had teeth. Since you were two loud little brown kids playin’ in the sprinkler in your grandma’s yard, barefoot on concrete and dripping in popsicle juice. He was the boy who always ran. Ran to get what you wanted. Ran to fix what you broke. Ran to grab the extra cookie you were too scared to ask for.

And even when you got older—full hips, lip gloss poppin’, that spoiled little whine always curled in your throat—you still didn’t have to finish a sentence before Smoke was already halfway to doin’ it.

“Smoke, can you—?”

“I got it.”

“Wait, you know what I want—”

“I already do.”

That was y’all’s rhythm.

He’d never said how bad he loved you. Never said that when you called him your best friend, it made his chest hurt. He never told you how many nights he stared at his phone, waiting for a text that said “Come over.”

You never told him either. You thought he knew. Thought maybe he didn’t feel the same. So you started dating other people. Just a little. Just to test the waters.

But you still showed up at every function on Smoke’s hip. Like today—his mama’s birthday cookout. You in that damn white dress. Tight up top, short in the back, every inch of you jiggling and glowing. Everybody noticed. But he noticed first.

He saw you before you even walked past the fence. Watched your thighs bounce with every step, your gold anklet glinting, your curls pulled up with just enough down to frame that smartass mouth he’d kill to kiss.

He didn’t speak first. He just stared. Chain glintin’. Blunt burning slow between his fingers.

You plopped down next to him at the table, legs crossed, plate in hand, talking loud with his cousins like you ain’t been skipping his calls.

And that’s when Aunt Vi turned to you, fork paused halfway to her mouth. “So baby girl, you still single? Or you got a lil boyfriend now?”

You blinked. Swallowed. Peeped Smoke from the corner of your eye. Then softly, like you ain’t really mean it: “…I do.” The clink of Smoke’s fork hitting his plate was the only sound for a moment.

He turned slowly, eyes glued to you. Not moving. Not blinking. That quiet, slow anger in his chest boiling over in silence. “You do?” he said low, voice tight.

You didn’t answer. You looked at Aunt Vi instead.“He tall?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

“Mhm.”

“Cute?”

“…Kinda.”

“Got a picture?” You pulled your phone out, too quick. Nervous giggle stuck in your throat. Smoke didn’t take his eyes off you. He leaned back in his seat, arms folded, watching you show the picture. Your screen faced Aunt Vi, but he saw it too.

And his jaw clenched hard enough to crack.

Marcus. From the block. A dude Smoke knew. A dude who tried to be like him but couldn’t hold a candle. He stood slow. Walked around the table. Quiet as ever. Then reached down and snatched your phone right out your hand.

“What the hell—” “Get up,” he said. You blinked. “Smoke, don’t start—” “I said get. The fuck. Up.”He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t curse loud. But his tone wrapped around your neck and dragged you up out that chair like gravity shifted. Your thighs trembled. You followed. You had to.

He yanked the back door open and took you through the house—ignoring every cousin, every curious glance—into the den. The door slammed behind you. And then? Silence. Thick and hot and tight. Smoke turned, chest rising slow. “You really fucking with Marcus?” he said. Voice low. Not yelling, but shaking. “Marcus?”

“He nice,” you whispered, but your voice cracked.Smoke stepped forward. Your back met the wall. He placed your phone on the dresser like he was lining it up for later. “You know how many times I wanted to tell you?” he said, hand finding your waist. “How many times I had to sit there and watch you run off with them clown-ass niggas? You do that shit on purpose?”

“I didn’t know you—” “Yes the fuck you did.” You didn’t answer. His mouth found your neck first. Hot, soft, trailing down like it was muscle memory. Your hands fisted in his shirt. His touch wasn’t rough—but it was hungry. Desperate. Like something that’d been waiting too long to be born.

“Still lettin’ me do everything for you,” he murmured against your skin, tongue flicking just beneath your ear. “Still callin’ me first. Still wearin’ shit like this around my damn family.”

“I didn’t know you cared,” you whimpered. His hands slid down your thighs, cupping your ass, pulling your hips against his. “You the only one I care about.” He kissed you. Slow and deep, lips pressed like a seal. Like a brand.

When he lifted your dress, you gasped. His fingers found the soaked cotton between your thighs and he smiled against your mouth. “This for him?” he growled. “Or me?”

“You,” you whimpered.

He dropped to his knees, pulled your panties down slow, kissed your thighs like he had all day. Then, without warning, he lifted your leg and buried his tongue in you—slow. Groaning into your folds, fingers digging into your hips.

You came on his mouth in minutes, shaking, gasping, whispering his name like a prayer.

“Say it right,” he whispered, standing, dropping his sweats. “You know what to call me.” “…Pa.”He moaned. Deep in his chest. Lined himself up and slid in—slow, deep, smooth, until his whole body trembled. Your mouth dropped open. You wrapped your arms around his neck, eyes glassy.“You feel that?” he groaned. “That’s mine.”

He moved slow but heavy, rolling his hips deep inside you like he was making a promise. His lips on your neck, your collarbone, your cheek. His hand on your jaw. “I been waiting so long for this, bunny,” he whispered. “Ain’t nobody ever gonna touch you again.”

You were close again. Shaking. Crying now.

And then he reached for your phone. “Call him.”“What—” “Call that little nigga now.” With shaking fingers, you dialed. Voice trembling. He pressed the speaker on.

“Hello?” he spoke. Your breath caught. Smoke thrusted deep. You cried out, breath hitching. “I’m with my boyfriend.” Then Smoke grabbed the phone and ended it. And came inside you with a long, low groan that rattled your bones. His forehead rested on yours, breathing heavy, thumb wiping the tears from your cheek. “You’re mine now,” he whispered. “And I’m done sharing.”

A few weeks later…

You don’t even call him “Smoke” no more. It’s Pa this, Pa that. The whole damn block know what it is. He walkin’ with his arm around you like you made of gold and velvet. One hand resting on your hip, thumb rubbing that little space on your waist like it’s his personal territory. And it is.

You’re wearing one of the three diamond rings he bought you. Not engagement, not yet—but you keep tellin’ folks, “This one’s for my mouth, this one’s for my attitude, and this one’s ‘cause I’m spoiled.” He don’t argue. He just adds another.

And right between your collarbones? That chain. Thick, gold, glinting in the sun. His name on the pendant in soft cursive—“Elijah’s”—like a warning and a lullaby. He’s got one too. Yours. Tucked under his shirt but always there, lying flat on his chest, heartbeat pressin’ against the letters.

You’re headed to get ice cream, arguing playful in the heat. You want strawberry shortcake. He already bought it for you ten minutes ago and it’s in the car. He just like hearing you beg. And then, like a breeze cutting through the thick summer air, you hear two girls on the stoop whispering:

“—you ain’t hear? Marcus? That nigga gone. Shot dead couple weeks ago. Just now found the body in that alley behind Glenwood. Whole clip in him.”

You pause mid-step. Smoke doesn’t.

His grip on your waist tightens just slightly, just enough to make your stomach flip. He’s still walking, face neutral, but you catch the edge of his mouth. That little curl. That little smile.

He don’t say nothing. Just keeps moving. Pulls you closer, presses a kiss to your temple. You look at him. “Pa…” He raises a brow like he don’t know what you’re about to ask—but you don’t even finish the sentence.

You know better. You know exactly what that smile meant.

He ain’t ever gonna tell you what happened. But you can feel it in his kiss, in the way he holds your hand a little tighter now. The way he makes love to you like he got rid of every last threat.

That chain around your neck ain’t just jewelry. It’s a warning label. “Property of Elijah Moore.” And when the streets whisper about Marcus? Smoke don’t blink. He just licks ice cream off your lip and says: “Open your mouth, bunny. You know I don’t like repeating myself.”

last one yall… last one for the day.

@cursed-carmine for the dividers.

[willyoubemycherryy]

TAKE 1🎬 -> + Stack. M x Reader +

Since I’ll be in the hospital for a while, I figured I’d post some my drafts for entertainment :)!

Summary: You and a troublesome man you like more than you let on…in the end it’s easy.

Contains: smut, a dash of degradation, established enough relationship, fat d!ck Stack because LOOK at him, country accents, rough s€x, manhandling, multiple ørgasms, overstimulation, he puts it zowwwwnnnn, gives you some of that “move yo hand”, mating press dirty talk, petnames, fucking filthy kissing, cuddles, and as per usual- this is for the ✋🏽 strictly for the ✊🏽

Y’all thank @dollerin <333!

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉

“Damn baby, you always this easy?”

Stack purrs out against the bare leg that’s currently hiked over his broad shoulder, voice dripping with condescension that’s a lot sweeter than the way he’s fucking into you.

The question is mean but it has its intended effect.

Goosebumps break over the surface of your flushed skin, choking on a whiny moan, cunt pulsating so tightly around him that he can feel you in his bones. A flurry of hiccuping sobs pour from your mouth cause you’re close. Again. Ordinarily, you’d try to defend your good name since you really were in fact not easy…or at least not until you’d met Stack. You’d heard of him before but never had the pleasure of making his acquaintance until he came strolling through your moms shop one day and found you instead.

At first you were stunned just making eye contact with him. Lidded brown eyes, dimples, plump lips- the gold on his teeth glinting at you and damn he was tall. Strutting up to introduce himself to you, accent thick with charm. However, you’d already heard of him and his way of giving women the roundabout and you’d decided right then and there that you’d be damned 11 ways to Sunday before you ever caught yourself on your back or knees for him.

Unfortunately, he was as relentless as he was gorgeous. Steadily pursuing you with the devil in his eyes and a grin on those full lips. Always hanging around- then, he’d disappear. As indifferent as you tried to be, dancing around his advances with light giggles and playful hands, when he’d vanish, you’d find yourself missing his face- or rather- his way of being, more like. See, Stack had this carefree almost cavalier demeanor but he was firm too. To you, that was his most attractive quality.

And he’d picked up on it. That you liked when he was a little firm with you.

From there all it took was a kiss.

Just barely brushing your lips when he leaned down, whispering teasingly against your lips, finger underneath your chin and you couldn’t keep the want from dripping out your eyes if you tried.

“Stop playing with me.”

To your surprise but not his- you listened.

Funny how you were so determined not to fall into his gravity and now look at you; sweat out hairstyle, sheer stockings ripped to hell along with your bra and underwear, being manhandled every which way, stretched out and creaming around the fattest cock you’ve ever had in your life as you moan in bliss- loving it.

Stack’s thrusts are deliciously brutal, hips snapping into yours while your legs hang over his shoulders like some harlot and sounding just like one, mouth dropped open while you cry and whine real pretty for him. Hissing through his teeth at the sight you make, Stack wedges his hands underneath the arch at the base of your back and grips tight- using your body as leverage to fuck into you even deeper. If the heat of the room wasn’t making you delirious then the way the fat head of his was smushing rough kisses into that soft patch of nerves would definitely do the trick. If this is what playing hard to get gets you then you’re seriously considering becoming a professional.

It gets to the point where your pussy is almost as loud as you are, prompting Stack to look down. A loud whistle barely makes it through the fog in your head and you try to bring your vision to focus. Your heart is going at least 100 miles per minute and you squeak as your legs are pushed so far back that your knees are touching your ears, Stack moving directly on top of you. Where the sudden flexibility came from you had no clue- but your awe is almost immediately overtaken by how full the new position has you feeling.

“O-oooh!”

Stack bites his lip as he watches your pretty face melt in pleasure, your normally sleepy eyes pop wide open, brows drawn together like you’re about to cry, lips forming that sexy ‘o’ as he slows down his strokes- letting you feel every inch of him. You were so gorgeous. Naked curves and soft skin crashing and rolling back into him then wrapping around even though you initially wanted damn near nothing to do with him. The thought makes him smirk in satisfaction until he’s brought out of his thoughts by the feel of your trembling hand just above where your bodies are connected. He pulls out halfway nice n slow, looking down to see what the fuss is and his heart almost pounds out of his chest.

Slathered all over his dick, is milky white. It streams out generously from your hole around where he’s stuffed in and Stack feels himself start to lose his mind a little bit as he moans out,

“Yeahhh mamas, she’s real easy f’me…”

He doesn’t take his eyes off your cunt as he slams back in with a wet ‘plap’- throwing his head back with a deep groan. The sound is so primal it sends nasty shivers up your spine but you don’t move your hand and he’s folding you even deeper, lowering his upper body almost completely against yours, pelvis grinding against your clit and you gasp wetly. Stack is wild, sucking bruising kisses into your neck, tongue trailing hotly up to your mouth to claim it in a deep kiss. It’s consuming. His big tongue flattening against yours in maddening swipes, sucking the muscle sloppily into his own mouth making you lightheaded- blood rushing through your ears as he starts his hips up again, grinding away at that spot inside you but not quite as deep and he pulls away.

He watches you gasp desperately, moving not even an inch away from your face as he nips at your bottom lip, soothing the sting with his tongue before whispering inside your mouth- eyes glazed,

“Move that hand, baby.”

Your name might as well be Sunday morning cause that’s exactly how easy you are, body obeying him before you even tell it to. As soon as you do, he doesn’t waste a second, big hands hook underneath your knees- railing you stupid. He’s not even trying to think straight, caught up in in not just the heat but how tight- how creamy- you are. Letting out a string of swears, he captures your mouth in another overwhelming kiss, cock aching while he swallows your wails as you twitch and shake around him.

You can’t take anymore. Stack gives another harsh, slick roll of his pelvis into your swollen nub while battering that tender spot inside you and you’re coming. And Jesus Christ on a bike- you’re coming hard. Clawing at Stack’s beefy muscles, a swarm of stars completely eclipse your vision while you’re shocked with wave after wave of vicious pleasure. You’re so loud you struggle recognize your own voice but Stack’s is clear as the ecstasy pumping through your body. Filthy words of praise and encouragement directly in your ear, prolonging your orgasm.

“Thaaat’s it, dollface.. aalll over me…”

Tears spill from your eyes and you’re close to tapping out when Stack buries his head into your chest, taking one of your puffy nipples into his mouth, thrusts slowing as he shoots deep inside your heat with a muffled groan, stuffing your hole to the brim until he pops off your tit with a satisfied sigh.

You’re tired, your back is killing you, and your shaking like a baby deer but a grin makes its way onto your lips regardless as Stack kisses all over you, pulling out slowly, warm eyes checking over your form for any sign of discomfort while you bask in the coziness after, closing your eyes to enjoy a much needed break until he interrupts it. Kissing your cheek in that tender way he does when he’s fixing to look after you.

“You okay? Ain’t hurtin’ none?”

You shake you head, eyes closed even as he pats you dry gently with his shirt, tossing on the floor when he’s done. Less sweaty, it’s easier for you to nap but something was missing. Reaching up, your hand swipes though the air as you blindly reach for him, eventually catching his chain as you yank him down next to you with a soft pleased little hum. Yes, you’d sleep just fine now.

And when you wake up?

You’re face to face with a big rock on your finger.

Stay tuned for take 2, 3, 4 and more yall🤠🫶🏽!!!

[i-love-ptv]

Hand Prints and Good Grips…✱*.:｡✧

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Childhood Best friend!Reader

Trouble brews once Mary walks into the twins’ juke joint, and you just wanna be the girl Elias likes.

wc: 6,103

warnings: porn with lots of plot, jealous!dom!Elias, sub!reader, clit slapping, face-sitting, cunnilingus, unprotected p-in-v, dirty-talk, degradation (not tew much but it’s there), overstimulation (r receiving), rough sex, manhandling, slight tit sucking/licking, marking, creampie (gulp??), language, one klan mention, shitty southern writing

an: HEY GUYS!!! THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC EVER WOOHOO! (ignore how it took me a month to make it, i’ve been going thru it man) i’m literally obsessed w sinners so hopefully i did stack justice! do y’all even read these? anyways

feedback is always appreciated n welcomed <3

Your hair was starting to cling onto your forehead as if you were drenched in sticky molasses.

The air was humid and dry; of course, this was a Mississippi custom, but it doesn’t help that there’s dozens of bodies stomping and prancing around.

Though you can’t complain much, considering that you were right here with them—dancing as if you hadn’t in years.

In a way, you haven't. You haven’t felt a rush of autonomy and euphoria quite like this before.

With everyone being nothing but working busy-bodies, there’s been little to no time to plan big events such as tonight. The lack of excitement has been a major factor too.

Hence why as soon as the Moore twins came back into town with the intention to open up their very own juke joint, everyone was on board.

The pair hadn’t been seen here in seven years.

Seven long, cruel years without the twin you’ve grown to love.

Stack.

Well, he was Stack to everyone else. But to you? He was still Elias. Your ‘Lias.

Seven years without his lingering touches and pearly smiles.

You weren’t the only one that missed him, it seems.

Your sister told you that when she went down near the train station, she was right there waiting for your Elias.

Mary was waiting.

You don’t have a clue as to how she knew he was coming home before you did, considering that nobody from the Delta had heard from him except for you. And a letter from him was rather rare.

Mary had nearly thrown a fit once she saw him; it didn’t help that Elias had turned down her persistent advances.

The lack of contact obviously sent her over the edge.

Apparently she mentioned their former relations; their connection being a secret to none.

You were envious of this; never jealous, but overcome by a feeling of want.

Growing up with the twins meant that the three of you were as close as can be. That being said, though, they looked at you as if you were their little sister. It was fine when Elijah assumed the role of a family member, but Elias?

Just thinking about it makes your heart ache.

You longed for the flirtatious remarks that he’d give off to any and every woman, a night filled with intimacy plagued your mind constantly.

But you got over it.

You had to. Not only for the sake of your friendship with Elias, but also because of his prolonged absence from town.

That’s why tonight—right now, you had to pump the breaks and focus on celebrating the twins’ success.

Speaking of success?

You making your way over to the bar with your wobbly heeled-covered feet was a success. Surprisingly.

“Someone’s been dancin’ a lil too hard, huh?” Annie chortles, looking at you with nothing but sisterly-love, and a bit of amusement.

“Only dancin’ I was doing was during my cooking—nothin’ like this in a while,” you exclaim with bliss through a beaming smile. You huff as you sit down in front of the bar. “Y’got anythin’ good back here?” You motion to the bottles Annie has surrounding her.

“Better than good,” Annie replies before ducking down and searching below the counter.

You brace your hands on the counter and slightly peer over at the woman, but then she pops up quicker than you can plop back down onto your chair. She quirks a brow at you before placing a bottle down in front of you.

“What’s this?” You question; if Annie didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought that it was Christmas morning with the way you were looking at the bottle.

“Authentic Irish beer; straight from the north side of Chicago. Different from the rest they’re sellin’.” She replies. “Your man brought it specifically for you—made me promise I wouldn’t give it to nobody else, no matter how much they was payin’.”

You bite back a smile at her words; you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“He fixin’ to be Mary’s.” Your lips straighten, it’s bittersweet.

“That so? ‘Cause that ain’t what I heard,” Annie muses, making you pause. You savor Annie’s words as if they were your holy grail. Was there a chance that Elias looked at you the same as you did him?

You crane your neck and your gaze is set over your shoulder—over at him.

He catches your eye and he gives you a cheeky smile, to which you return rather eagerly.

You hadn’t had a single nonchalant bone in your body it seems.

Your shared staring was cut short as Mary forced Elias’ attention back onto her, but it wasn’t exactly a hard task for her.

Something about her was just so easy and simple, despite the ring shining on her hand that matched another man’s being anything but simple. The way that they connected even after all these years made you feel as if you swallowed a jar of mud.

After a few sips of beer, you can’t help but let a smile rest on your face. Elias knew you’d love it, and it makes your heart dance.

Speaking of dancing, your dearest friend Pearline struts up to you with a grin that soared for miles.

“What’s got you cheesin’ all hard?” You raise your eyebrows at her, making her giggle.

“Y’know the Preacher’s boy? The one that was just singin’?” Pearline’s nearly jumping out of her skin with excitement.

“Lil’ Sammie Moore? Course I do, why? What’d you do Pearl?” You gape at her and hold her hands tightly in yours.

“Well…” She trails off. “Let’s just say, he showed me he ain’t a boy, but a real man.”

Your eyes nearly bulge out of the sockets as you exclaim a Pearline! that could probably be heard for miles.

Pearline gushes, “He made me feel things I ain’t never felt before.”

“Not even with your mister?” You gasp.

“Not even close. And that’s not all,” she pauses before looking around, then leaning in towards you.

“I wasn’t even able to freshen up. He didn’t want me to,” Pearline whispers.

You shout, then look around in embarrassment at your outburst; you shake Pearline vigorously by her shoulders and giggle some more.

You decide to look around the joint, and you coincidentally catch Sammie looking right at the back of Pearline’s frame in utter awe.

You nudge Pearline, and she looks over at him with you. The look that she throws his way is nothing short of flirtatious.

“He looked at ya like he wanted t’take a bite,” you snicker.

Pearline looks at you mischievously, “Funny, considerin’ he already did.” You can’t help but laugh.

“So, y’thinkin’ bout singin’ like he said?” You ask.

Pearline hums, “Maybe. ‘M thinkin’ you should too.”

“No, not happenin’. Not a chance,” You scoff playfully.

Pearline whines and grabs your wrists. “C’mon, sista! When’s the last time you got the chance to do this?” She pouts, and tries hardest to make puppy-dog eyes at you.

“Besides, this could be y’chance to make a move on Stack. Ain't that whatcha been waitin’ for?” She drags.

You falter at the question she poses.

“Tonight’s the night, sista.” Pearline murmurs softly.

It’s crazy how you always get in your head when it comes to him.

The thing is, you weren’t one to throw yourself out there just to entertain a man. No, that just wasn’t your style.

But God—tonight? His suit was fitting snug in all the right places, his grills glimmered dangerously in the dim lighting, and his eyes always found yours, recklessly.

You couldn’t resist Elias Moore.

And right now, you’re starting to wonder if you ever could.

“Y’better wrap that scarf on tight, Pearl,” you say as you grab her arm and start walking with her to the front. Pearline shrills and claps her hands with glee.

You saunter towards the stage with a pep in your step and your arm linked with a perky Pearline. Your heels clack on the wooden floors as you come face-to-face with the band and none other than Delta Slim, who’s now grinning at you.

“Been tryin’ to getcha to sing for years girl, what’s with the change o’ heart?” He questions with a smirk, as if he already knew the answer. You’re sure that he did with the way that his eyes looked past you and towards Elias.

“It’s a nice night, figured I’d try sum different,” you shrug, trying to mask your sudden embarrassment. Pearline intertwines her hand with yours and uses her other one to gesture to the band. You inhale deeply while looking at her; she gives you a look of reassurance.

The patrons of the juke joint grow silent at the sight of you two taking your stances and the band readying their instruments.

Pearline starts humming and you lightly stomp your feet on the stage, starting to form a beat as the band follows.

Elias feels as if his heart was being weighed down by a ton inside of him. He held his breath—scared that the rise and fall of his chest would make him miss the steady view of you: parading around as if everything outside the joint had come to a halt.

You looked completely, and utterly divine up there; moving swiftly and effortlessly, as if you owned the very ground you were stepping on.

You were absolutely ethereal in Elias’ eyes.

And he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t falling even harder for his sugar as of right now. He was the only man that could get away with calling you sugar; he knows it, so does everyone else in the Delta—and Elias can’t help but let his pride swell every time he thinks about it.

Your body sways carelessly as if you were one with the words that escaped your lips, but your eyes are grounded—powerful, even. Speaking of them: your glittering orbs meet his, your gaze nothing short of a vixen’s.

Though, the interlocking of your sights is interrupted when Mary makes her presence known yet again at Elias’ side. He can’t help but sigh at the intrusion.

Luckily, Elias’ ever-growing agitation fades when the patrons of the juke let out their elation around him. The band’s playing picks up, as well as you and Pearline’s voices.

Don’t let it shine, shine, shine once more

Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon

Everyone chants and stomps rhythmically.

“I wanna sing, like I hear the crickets do,” Pearline sings seductively while peering at Sammy as she struts.

Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon

“I wanna hoo,” you and Pearline sing simultaneously, harmonizing beautifully as your backs meet and you both slide to a crouching position.

Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon

“I wanna howl,” the two of you sound as if you were straight out of a folktale—like one of those myths of the sirens that Annie had explained to Elias once before. You and Pearline then reside in a crawl as you look at the crowd with a sense of hunger in your eyes.

Mary gets ahold of Elias’ tie, but he quickly removes her grip from him—without even breaking eye contact with you. He knows she’s interested in spending the rest of the night with him; maybe in hopes of rekindling an old flame.

But how could Elias be interested in another woman when his woman—his sugar—was looking at him so deliciously.

You grin slyly at him, biting your bottom lip before licking your teeth.

Pale, pale moon, pale, pale moon

“I wanna scream,” Pearline sings, as you mouth the three words to Elias.

Three little words that have Elias fucking mesmerized, hypnotized even. You have him in a trance, right where you want him, and you both know it.

Elias wishfully thinks that the pick up in your breathing isn’t just from all the dancing you’ve been doing tonight. He bites his lip at the thoughts running through his mind.

Mary can’t even say that she recognizes the look that Elias gives you, for she has never been on the receiving end like you have been. Her frustration and jealousy boils over, and she eventually huffs before walking away from Elias, and out of the juke joint.

Elias doesn’t mind one bit, and he sure as hell doesn’t when the song finishes and you hug Pearline with excitement as the joint nearly turns upside down. You’re jumping up and down and Elias can’t help but smile til his cheeks hurt.

Elias feels a hand slap somewhat roughly on his shoulder. He knows good and well it’s his brother, with or without the wave of tobacco radiating.

“Came out here after the game finished, saw the way she was lookin’ at’cha, too.” Elijah grumbles.

“Breathtakin’, ain’t she?” Elias remarks breathily, not even turning to his brother—keeping his sights on you, as you hug Slim and the rest of the instrument players.

“Not ‘bout how I feel, ‘s ‘bout how you feel,” Elijah sighs. This makes Elias turn towards his brother.

“Don’t know what’chu waitin’ on, already been years,” Elijah then pauses before continuing, “Don’t be surprised when somebody see what’chu see.” Elijah trails off, almost ominously, and nods his head in your direction.

Elias follows his twin’s trail of sight and spots you: talking to a man he ain’t even seen before. You were beaming, your hair a little frizzed up by the humidity, your lipgloss smudged a little onto your shimmering skin.

Speaking of your lipgloss—whoever you’re talking to decided to rub his finger below your lip to wipe it away. Right now, Elias’ demeanor resembles the snake him and his brother killed earlier: cold and unmoving.

You glance around the sea of bodies, and Elias takes this as a sign. He starts to walk up to you, but not before having to mumble several ‘excuse me’s while side-stepping quite a few people—who seem to not be able to hold their liquor.

He finally reaches you, and he gets a glimpse of you over the guy’s shoulder, who has no idea he’s even there.

“We got a problem?” Elias murmurs, making the stranger nearly jump out of his skin.

“N-nah man,” the man chuckles awkwardly as he faces Elias.

“I reckon we do, since y’talkin’ to my lady,” Elias replies, sizing him up as he takes a step closer to him. The man takes a step back in return.

“I ain’t know, I-I’m sorry, Stack,” the man trembles meekly. Elias only hums. The man glances between the two of you before making himself scarce.

Elias stays in the same spot for a beat, before turning and giving you a look that says let’s go, before walking towards one of the back rooms of the joint. You hesitate, before inching behind him.

“So I’m y’lady now?” You don’t bother to tone down the sass in your voice.

“‘S what I said, ain’t it?” he mumbles, not even looking at you.

You scoff, “Yeah, well, y’got a funny way a’ showin’ it.”

Elias pulls you into a dimly lit room and finally faces you as you stand before him. “What’s that s’possed to mean?”

You narrow your eyes at him before speaking. “Means I saw you messin’ with ole Mary.”

“She don’t mean nun to me,” Elias guaffs. “Why d’ya think she left already?”

You roll your eyes and begin to head out the door you just came from. You’re not sure where this attitude just came from, in all honesty. The moment your eyes met him while you were on stage, it felt as if everything else had faded away, and it was just the two of you.

Maybe it was the irritation caused by Mary that left you in a sour mood now, you’re not sure. You know it won’t be beneficial to you nor Elias in this moment, but you can’t help it.

Elias grabs your wrist before you can get too far away from him.

“She ain’t nun, y’hear?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he almost sounded desperate. You stay quiet.

“Asked you a question, sugar. ‘N with that attitude of yours, I ain’t fixin’ to repeat myself.” His lips ghost the shell of your ear as he speaks, and heat twinges through your stomach. Elias seems to take notice of the subtle switch in your demeanor; he smirks and his chocolate brown irises darken even further.

“I…I don’t believe you,” You almost whisper, but still meet his gaze.

Almost immediately, he responds with, “What I got to do to convince you, baby?” Elias matches your tone, but there’s still a hint of assertiveness conveyed through his words.

You don’t speak—it’s almost like you couldn’t, but you release your wrist from his grasp gently.

Elias’ jaw clenched slightly, but you still spot it. He looks as if he’s pondering his next words.

“‘S not makin’ sense, darlin’. I mean, you were acting like a whore on stage, now you don’t want me to touch you?” He cocks his head at you and your lips part—like it was reflex, and maybe it was. Elias clicks his tongue.

Your breath picks up, and if your mind weren’t turning fuzzy, you would’ve chided yourself for making a fool out of yourself in front of a man—Elias at that.

The man you’ve yearned for longer than you can even remember.

“I ain’t no whore,” you speak, finally regaining your senses.

“That right, sugar?” You can feel Elias’ breath on your heated face, and all you can do is nod in return.

“Y’wanna know what I think?” Before you can answer the question Elias poses, he murmurs lowly, “I think that deep down….You are a whore—and you needa be fucked like one.”

Despite the vulgarity of his words, the way that Elias places his palm across your cheek is soft—loving, even.

You press your thighs together through your dress unconsciously, desperately seeking even an ounce of friction to cool the impending heat between your legs.

Elias takes the hand that rested upon your cheek and moved it to the stiff rim lock that resided on the door’s surface.

Thank god—You’d hate for the likes of someone such as Sammie barging in and being witness to sin hotter than the Mississippi sun.

Elias then starts to walk you back to the table that remained bare in the dingy-lit room, removing his suit jacket and vest, followed by his tie. The backs of your knees meet the edge of the firm table, making you stumble just a bit. Elias takes it upon himself to lay you down onto the table.

You rest on your elbows as you look up at the six-foot-something man in front of you, and you can’t help but swoon. His beating eyes look down at you lustfully—almost as if he were a predator, and you his prey.

It made you weak.

Weak at the hands of a man you’d been waiting on while he had the time of his life in Chicago, with all sorts of Italian customs. Your actions are beyond halfwitted, but you make no effort to straighten yourself out anymore.

Elias takes his warm hands and spreads your knees with ease after unbuttoning his shirt, making you yelp involuntarily at the near-abrasiveness. He licks his grillz and lets out a short, deep chuckle; you feel it vibrate your bones, while he aligns himself so that almost he’s eye-level with your warm core.

“Elias, wait—“ You whimper meekly,

He hums disapprovingly, letting out a firm ‘mm-mmn’. He rips his gaze from your thighs to your eyes, “Been waitin’ for years, sugar, not sure if I can any longer.” He repositions his hands, lifting your dress and hitching it up to your upper thighs, nearly to your pelvic bone.

Elias massages your thighs with an iron grip, it’s not yet rough, but not exactly gentle either. His switch between the two is making your mind reel.

He kisses up from your knee almost to where your dress bunches up as he removes his button-up, leaving him in his undershirt. He then says, “…So, m’sorry if I lose m’manners,” he breathes hotly against your skin, “But I don’t think I can live without destroying this pussy for a minute longer.” He damn near groans.

His mouth hovers above your clothed cunt—he purposely breathes in a way that makes you squirm at the feeling you’re unable to run from. As you shudder and tilt your head back, you suddenly hear a rip and you feel a gust of air.

You gasp and look down, where you’re met with Elias looking up at you cheekily, with one half of your panties in his mouth, and the other in his hand.

“‘Lias!” You exclaim.

Elias feigns innocence, “Told ya I ain’t mean no harm.” He then averts his focus to your legs, and he leaves a kiss to your mound.

“Y’not gon let me freshen up, will ya?” You ask quietly, already knowing the answer.

Instead of answering, Elias takes his tongue and trails it from your hole to your clitoris, and you puff out the air you didn’t know you were holding in.

Elias seems to enjoy your reaction, for he then gives you another long lick.

And another,

and another,

and you guessed it, another.

You press your lips together, muting your sounds, and Elias ‘tsk’s at the sight.

He nips a bit of the skin next to your lips, making you choke on your own spit. “Don’t like how quiet you’re bein’.” Elias reprimands you.

“Stop t-teasin’ then,” You manage to huff.

Elias chuckles in disbelief, “Wanted to be gentle, but y’makin’ it hard,” he then lifts you up from the table, and places his back where you once laid. He hooks your legs over the sides of his head, your pussy now inches away from his plump, shining lips.

Elias’ typical, million-dollar smirk is back on his face, but there’s something more sinister behind it—your legs would’ve buckled if he weren’t holding them.

“You’re a whore, jus’ like I said y’were.” His southern drawl makes your stomach twist in knots, despite the familiarity. Before you could get a word out, Elias placed you onto his face.

You mewl at the feeling of his tongue swirling around anywhere, and everywhere.

Your clit, your lips—it was almost as if he were starving.

There was no rhythm, no harmony and contentment, just the actions of a man on a mission.

A mission to make you scream louder than the birds on your farm.

Then, abruptly, Elias leaves a small, yet firm slap to your clit. “Admit it,” he says between licks. “Admit that you’re a whore.” He leaves another slap.

You don’t respond, too caught up in both the pain and pleasure. Your head hangs back and your eyes are clenched shut, and Elias grows impatient.

He removes his mouth from you with a ‘pop’ and almost snarls at you, “Thought I told ya Ion like repeatin’ myself.” He slaps your clit again, this time with more force.

“Okay—Okay! I was bein’ a whore tonight, ‘m sorry!” You cry out as your back arches.

Elias starts to lower you towards his grinning face, and you shiver at the feeling of his cold grillz.

Instead of teasing kitten-licks, Elias sucks at your slit and lets his tongue roam freely, without a care in the world. You writhe and whine on top of him, your body bending back and creating a dull aching sensation.

His advances are relentless, and you have no chances of escaping his grasp; he readjusts his grip as soon as he feels you start to slip away from him. You don’t know whether to clench around his tongue as he fucks you with it, or to cry–you end up doing both, and this continues on for who knows how long.

You’ve stopped counting the number of orgasms you’ve had after the second one–you think–but you think Elias has been keeping track. He’s muttered ‘jus’ one more, sugar’ maybe three times now, and you don’t know how many you have left in you at this point.

After what feels like hours, Elias finally lifts your hips up, allowing you to slide down and straddle his hips with your head resting upon his chest.

The beating sound of his steady heart fills your ear, and you try to match your breathing with Elias’. You feel a vibration as he shakes with laughter. You slightly drag your head up just enough to peek at his face, and he looks down at you with amusement.

“We ain’t done, not yet, peach,” he chuckles breathily at the wave of surprise that washes over your face.

You fumble with your words, “What d’ya mean? ‘L-Lias, I-I’m spent!” You continue to tremble in his arms.

“Y’still talkin’, ain’t ya, sugar?” He scoffs, it’s antagonizing. And before you can utter anything else, Elias flips you around onto the table, so you now lay with your back on the wood once again. Your dress rides down a tad at the sudden movement, and Elias holds your back, lifting you so that he can push your dress up past your breasts.

Elias lowers your back, before leaning peck your nipples. You bite your lip, but quickly let out a moan once he blows air onto your nipples, watching almost menacingly as they harden. One hand tweaks one of your nipples, as the other drags down your rib cage.

His hot, glistening tongue swishes around your tits, as he leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to your skin.

He sucks harshly as you whimper beneath him. One of his hands leaves your body and goes down to his slacks, he unbuttons them with ease without even looking, as he continues to leave hickies on your chest.

He untucks himself from his underwear, and you can’t help but buck towards his cock in anticipation.

“Easy, girl. You’ll get it when ya prove y’deserve it,” Elias mocks, you whine in response.

“I deserve it, more than anybody else–y’know that, ‘Lias,” You plead in hopes of him giving you what you want.

“That right, baby? All this yours, nobody else's?” He challenges, starting to stroke his length.

You squeeze your eyelids together, almost as if you were personally pained by the question.

“Damn right,” You huff as you look at him with a sudden wave of fire blazing through your eyes. Elias scoffs with a mixture of incredulity and mirth.

“Yeah, baby–always been yours. Glad ya finally came to y’senses.” And with that, Elias pushes inside of you, and you let out a broken gasp.

Elias quickly finds his pace as he thrusts in and out of you rapidly. He nearly pulls entirely out of your dripping cunt–and you think he’s going to tease you again, but he then slams back into you roughly, making you cry out as your back arches into him.

You’re now chest-to-chest with Elias as he continues to pump into you with little regard to your overstimulation. The contact of skin makes your toes curl in your heels. Elias grunts at the feeling of you clamping down on his cock and bites forcibly at the flesh of your neck.

Elias groans–almost as if fucking you were the key to heaven’s gates. He takes his large palm and pushes it down onto your torso, making your sweating body meet the barely-covered, rumbling wood.

You weep helplessly and squirm as he keeps you pressed against the shaking table.

“Mmnf–”Lias! Please!” You cry yet again, but without knowing the reason behind it this time.

He doesn’t respond to your watery blabbering, instead putting your legs on either side of his shoulders. Elias slowly–and almost lovingly–kisses your ankle, before unclasping the latch of your heel and sliding it off of your foot, letting it hit the floor with a thump that neither of you seem to catch through the sounds of your bodies meeting.

You two damn-near become one.

He repeats his actions on your other leg, but this time he kisses from your calf to your ankle before removing your heel and letting it meet the ground with your matching one.

His hand grips at the ankle he just kissed, using it as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded; like an anchor. He then sucks and nips at your leg, quickly marking just above your ankle with a red bruise, which you know will be purple by the time the sun rises for morning.

You hiss when he bites a little too roughly, and he shows his sympathy by licking at the irritated skin, soothing the tender ache.

“That feel good, darlin’? Tell “Lias how much y’love it, peach, c’mon,” Elias coos, lifting his shirt up so he can get a proper view of your sex.

You babble through sobs intelligibly, mewling something along the lines of ‘so so good, ‘Lias!’—at least that’s what Elias makes of it.

“Can’t hear ya, baby. Ya gotta–fuck! Ya gotta speak a ‘lil louder f’me, hm?” Elias manages to speak through his panting and groaning. You bawl, hot tears dripping from your cheeks down to your chin.

“It feels so good–oh god—‘Lias!” You shriek, not caring about the volume of your crying. “Please don’t stop! Please, please, please–” You ramble with a slur.

If Elias ever felt guilty at the way he man-handling you, seeing your fucked-out expression made all his worries wash away at the sight of you: tongue hanging out, as your tears dribble into your open mouth.

Your panting grows more frantic, little ‘uh-uh-uh’s being let out more frequently as you feel another orgasm course through your veins. “‘Lias—cummin’! S-sh-it, I-I’m cummin’!”

Elias firmly plants his feet on the floor, repositioning the arm on your stomach onto your other leg so that he can fuck you even deeper–deep enough to create a slight bulge in your stomach with his throbbing tip. “Yeah, that’s it. Fall apart on this dick, y’know y’want to, sugar. Been dreamin’ ‘bout it f’years, huh?” He taunts.

You try to answer him, honestly! But he’s hitting your cervix just right and his abs rub against the backs of your thighs–it’s too much.

Elias thought you’ve learned by now that he doesn’t take silence for an answer, so to remind you, he gives your spent cunt a more forceful slap than before.

“Fuck—Yes! A-always been wantin’ you, ‘Lias,” you wail. “I-I never let nobody touch me! Nobody but you!” You exclaim without thinking.

This fuels Elias to quicken his pace; he almost fucking growls at your words, and he tightens your legs around himself–right now, as he feels himself getting closer and closer to climaxing, he has no plans on pulling out.

He continues to heave words of encouragement as fucks you ruthlessly through your orgasm.

You moan and blabber as your vision turns white, and your ears start to ring. Your toes curl and flex, and your nails scratch at the table, hands desperate for something to hold. Your voice then gives out, as your tongue lolls out of your mouth yet again.

Elias gives you a few more earth-stattering thrusts, before his seed fills your puffy, aching hole; the guttural groan that leaves his throat ups in pitch–nearly turning into a whimper.

He pumps his cum into you once more, before releasing your legs from his grip and laying down on top of you. As he half-lays-half-stands against the table, he feels as if a cold bucket of water was dumped onto him.

He can no longer focus on the tingling feeling that shoots from his skull to his toes, but now on the fact that he was the first man you’ve been with.

You spent your first time with him–in a rickety building he bought from a Klan member, on an even dingier table.

Elias then taps your face, just enough to get you to come back to your senses. You open your eyes with a lazy grin at the feeling of his seed mixed with yours, but when you’re met with his panicky expression, you quickly push yourself up–to the best of your ability.

“What? Wha’s wrong, ‘Lias?” You question worrisomely.

He allows himself to catch his breath before speaking, “Y’serious?” It’s all that he says.

You furrow your brows and tilt your head at him, “Bout what? Y’scarin’ me, Elias,” you chuckle awkwardly.

Had you said something you shouldn’t have?

A million thoughts run rampant throughout your mind.

“‘Bout all this,” he flails his hand, motioning to where your bodies had just met. “Was that really ya first time?” He speaks loudly, and you feel mortified.

Your breath catches in your throat. You confirm his worries, your voice softer than a freshly picked feather, “Yes.”

Elias takes a step back, and it takes everything in you not to reach out for him. Instead, you sit up fully and push your dress back down to your thighs. You twiddle your thumbs idly, seeking for even an ounce of comfort as Elias pushes his shirt back down and tucks himself back into his boxers after wiping himself off with a rag. Despite his glowering, he hands you a rag so that you can wipe away the slick from between your thighs.

Did he regret spending the night with you? Did he find the fact that you remained a virgin because of him embarrassing?

“Why you ain’t tell me, girl?” He exclaims, “I wouldn’t have said and done all that foolishness if I knew you ain't never been with a man before!”

You feel your soul come back into your body. “You would’ve been all sweet with me? That whatcha sayin’, ‘Lias?” You can’t help but giggle.

“Ain’t nothin’ funny, woman! I was all rough with you ‘n–” You cut him off with a kiss to his lips, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him closer to you. You fold your arms around his neck, and you feel his hands drift down to your waist and squeeze lightly. Your nose nudges his, his breath fans your face as yours does his.

You break the kiss when you feel yourself losing your breath, and you gaze at Elias lovingly.

“You were perfect, I couldn’t imagine it any other way,” you whisper.

“Well for starters, could've gotten you a bed in the house ‘stead of a table in this dark ass room,” Elias grumbles.

You grin, “I think the lightin’ was just fine. Added ambience ‘n all that.” Elias pouts, and you peck his lips.

“I don’t care ‘bout the details, “Lias. Long as it was with you.” Your tone is as sweet as the finest honey in Clarksdale, and it pulls on Elias’ heartstrings.

“Y’really waited all these years….For me?” He whispers.

“Course I did, couldn’t imagine bein’ with anybody else.” You speak just as softly. You recognize the guilt that crosses his face, despite his best efforts to mask it with his bravado. “Don’t feel guilty, please. I don’t blame you for nun.” You caress his hair. Silence fills the room as Elias deciphers what to say, you just hold him tenderly until he’s ready.

“I-I love ya, more than y’know, sugar…” He trails off before finishing his sentence, “I jus’ want ya to know that. I have since we was young.” He looks at you with adoration and love in his eyes.

“I love you too, Elias Moore. Have since you stood up to my daddy on his farm f’me when we was seven.”

He smiles, but it’s tight lipped, making you frown. “Jus’ wish I could’ve admitted it sooner. Then this would’ve went down differently—would’ve been better.” He sulks.

You take your thumb and index finger and pluck his lips, making him shout ‘hey!’ with a laugh.

“Stop beatin’ y’self up, Elias. I told you, I’m perfectly happy here, right now. Ain’t nun gon’ change that a bit.” You scold him.

“If ya stop all that moppin’, I’ll let ya try again tomorrow, however y’want,” you giggle mischievously. Elias’ eyes light up almost immediately, the way he perks up reminds you of a puppy that was just given a treat.

Elias roars with laughter and squeezes you, before lowering you back down onto the table, he presses nearly all of his weight onto you.

You squeal and cackle as he tickles your sides, “‘Lias!”

You lay wrapped up with Elias, you felt as if you could lay there forever, and honestly in this moment, you wanted to.

Clarity and revelations do the body good.

Everything was good.

Until you heard a commotion on the other side of the door.

[szatears]

had her first, stack.

summary: is it really cheating if he had you first?

pairing: ex boyfriend!stack x blackfem!reader

warnings: cheating kinda? (on reader's part), it's a little long, angst, ooc smoke, some mary hate, p in v, oral (fem receiving), heavy making out, descriptions of reader, use of n word, not proofread.

notes: this came to me in a dream i had during a nap LMAOOOO. also i hate using y/n i don't know why but i audibly groaned when i realised i had to 😖 what do we think of a part two?

It wasn't by choice that you ended up in the opening night of the juke joint. Your cousin Shirley, ever the music enjoyer, caught word of someone throwing a party to open up their juke joint, and as she usually did, she dragged you along with her.

Not that you would've said no if she asked, you knew when to appreciate good music too. If only you asked whose juke joint it was. Maybe then you would've prepared yourself a little more.

Shirley came by your mama's house to pick you up, the two of you walking the short distance to another friend's to hitch a ride with them.

You were ready by the time she arrived, your curls out of their usual bun, defined neatly thanks to your mama's hand. You chose something simple, not having enough time to be fussy about what to wear.

It wasn't a new dress, you'd had it for some time but rarely wore it. It was a deep green, almost emerald colour. Held together by spaghetti straps over your shoulders, the v-line at its front brought all attention to the dainty gold locket that hung from your neck. The dress, made finely from silk, reached your ankles, kitten heels also in emerald on show. It fit you perfectly, hugging your figure in every right place.

A thin shawl accompanied you with the dress, lazily hung over your shoulders to shield you from the breeze that would follow with the night, but also from any unwanted stares. You knew a certain someone would have something to say. That was, if he knew where you were off to.

When asked, you never said you were officially married, nor did you say you were spoken for. You usually left it at "I'm in a good place with someone right now." Because that's all he was at the moment. A good place. His name was Jeremiah, you met a few months back.

He hadn't made any attempt to show you he wanted to marry you, so you played as if that was the case. Though you wouldn't entertain anyone else, and neither would he. So in a way, he was kinda it for you.

Sure, you had your fair share of fun with him, but he couldn't ruin you if anything were to go south. Not when you already were, unbeknownst to everyone else except him.

"You gon' stare at yourself in the mirror all day, or...?" Shirley nudged you as you stepped out of the car, fiddling with the pocket mirror in your hand. You looked up at your surroundings, noticing the juke joint and the cars around it, then back at Shirley, a smile tugging at your lips.

"You know better than anyone what looks mean to a lady."

"Mhm. You sure it ain't 'cause you're seeing Stack again?" She smirked, taking your hand in hers as you walked towards the doors.

"You─── what?!" You stopped in your tracks, someone bumping into you as you did. Shirley widened her eyes a little, apologising for you. "Shir, what did you just say?"

"Girl, I been told you. This here's Smoke and Stack's juke joint. Looks like Chicago finally blew 'em back to what they know."

Your breath hitched as you fumbled at the thin shawl around you. "No, you did not tell me, otherwise I wouldn't have come." You didn't mean to snap at her, but of all people, Shirley knew what the twins, what Stack meant for you.

She sighed, turning to you. Smoothing your flyaway baby hairs with the tip of her fingers, she spoke gently. "I know you and Stack ain't leave it on good terms, but that was ages ago. You've moved on, right? Don't let him ruin your night, yeah?"

You sighed, nodding your head despite thinking something completely different. But there was no going back now. At least you were promised good food and music.

Stepping towards the door, you recognised Cornbread letting people in. He did a double take when he glanced at you, shouting your name out loud. "You ain't so lil' no more, though, my God! How you been?"

"Nice to see you too, Cornbread. God," Shirley rolled her eyes. The two of you grew up together, close since knee height, so everyone who knew you, knew Shirley too.

"Shut up, Shirley. I know it was you who took my dice at that last game," He bucked at her, referring to the last time the both of you saw him over at a gathering in town, years ago. "Anyways, y'all ladies have a good night, you hear?"

He let you both in, and immediately you were hit by the sound of the piano wavering through the joint, bodies dancing and mingling all over, the sweet smell of liquor that longed for you... You had to admit, it looked great.

"Here, let's get us something to drink," Shirley walked to both of you towards were the drinks were being served.

"What can I get you fine ladies... Y/N? Whatchu doin' here?" Annie's face lit up when she saw you, reaching over the counter to give you and Shirley brief hugs.

"I could ask you the same thing! This one here dragged me along with her," you budged Shirley, a bright smile on your face upon seeing Annie. It seemed not so long ago was the last time you saw her, but really it was years. Probably around the same time you last saw the twins.

"Girl, don't act like you weren't jumping at the chance to come with," Shirley laughed, handing Annie a dollar. "We'll take 2 corn liquors please, Miss Annie."

"We damn near the same age, calling me Miss Annie," she kissed her teeth, pocketing the money before pouring the drinks. "You seen 'em yet?" she asked, directed more at you. You took a sip from the small glass, shaking your head 'no' after.

Annie nodded slowly. She knew all that happened between you and Stack. Like you did with her and Smoke. The beginning to now.

Shirley finished her glass, handing it back to Annie before standing up from her seat. "Look, there's Pearline! You wanna go dance, or you're good here?"

"No, I'm alright here. I'll join you later though," you waved her off with a kiss to her cheek, choosing to sit with Annie for a bit longer.

The two of you spoke and spoke as she served customers, and yourself, about everything the last 7 years had done for you both.

You could see Annie's eyes wander off to something behind you as you spoke, and you, in your 'three corn liquors in' state, turned around to see what it was. More like who, it was.

Smoke took a drag from the lit cigarette in his mouth, his head slightly tilting to the side when his gaze settled on you. He was surprised, you could gather that much through his stoic expression. Never was one to give away much.

Tearing away from you, he nodded at Annie. "How's it going? Good?"

She blinked, before nodding. "Nothing wrong so far."

He nodded, turning back to you, taking another drag from the cigarette. "Good to see you, Y/N." He bent down to your seated height to give you a small kiss on the cheek, cigarette smoke still lingering around him. Smoke was respectful towards you most of the times, when he acknowledged you, mainly because Annie had a few words with him about his approach to some people.

"You too," you mumbled, fingers drumming the wooden table in front of you. You liked Smoke, even if most times you couldn't tell if he liked, hell even tolerated, you.

"You seen Stack yet?" He asked. When you shook your head, he only gave you a curt not, walking away as quickly as he did.

"Well he ain't changed one bit," you blew out a breath.

Annie laughed, wiping down a table.

─── ༉‧₊˚✧ ───

The joint was packed to the brim, fellas laughing whilst they rolled dice and racked up dollars, ladies dancing with their girls or men as the blues rang throughout the crowd. It was amazing, you had to admit.

You were leaning against a pillar, observing from behind the scenes as you tended to always do at events like these. You watched on as Shirley danced with a random man, occasionally looking over at you with a wink.

You shook your head with a smile, fiddling with the material of your shawl. You desperately wanted to leave it somewhere, but you knew you probably wouldn't end up getting it back.

Sighing, you began to make your way towards the stage so you could hear the words to the songs better, before bumping into someone.

It was a small bump but my, did it almost send you going backwards. It could only be a man with a chest that hard, and you couldn't control your facial expressions, a mean ass mug made its way to your face before you knew it.

"Sorry 'bout that, you good?"

You knew that voice anywhere. That bass, that drawl... From anywhere. Your head snapped up to his, the scowl still present.

You saw the realisation and surprise fill in his features slowly. Stack was lost for words, for once. He brought a hand to his mouth, removing the toothpick. "Hey..." he said, barely above a whisper. "Whatchu doin' here?"

Seven years and that was all he had? The scoff that left your lips was deserved at that point. "Excuse me," you waved past him, shaking a little at the fact that you just saw the man that left you in absolute pieces, acting like none of that even happened albeit he saw you for all of ten seconds.

"Y/N, hollon," you heard him say but didn't stop moving through bodies, desperate to get as far away from him as you could.

Just as you were about to round the corner to the edge of the stage, his hand caught your arm, pulling you back into what looked like a corridor.

"Elias, get off of me," you gritted, fighting the physical hold he had on you. He couldn't lie, hearing his name roll off of your tongue after all this time had him feeling giddy, but he ignored you as he opened up the door to one of the rooms in the corridor, pushing you inside.

"You hard of hearing? Let me out, I'm not playing." You attempted to push past him, but he stood planted, blocking the door.

"I'm not playin' either. I just wanna talk."

"You had seven years, why now? Hm?"

He deserved that, and so much more. He nodded his head, bringing a hand to his chin, stroking his goatee. When he took a step closer, you took one back, determined to keep this distance between you and him.

"Look," he sighed, trying to catch your gaze but you looked anywhere but at him. "I know I should've said something, could've wrote to you or whatever. But I had to protect you."

"Protect me?" You scoffed. "I ain't need your protection, what I needed was your love. Hell, you couldn't even give me that most times."

Stack didn't allow himself to be upset over your use of love in the past tense. "I did love you, I still do."

"Yeah? You tellin' ole girl the same thing too? What's her name again... Mary wasn't it?"

Stack kissed his teeth at the mention of Mary, the other woman who just couldn't let him go. He'd told you time and time again that she meant nothing to him, that it was just you, yet she still managed to be in the frame.

"Mary ain't shit to me, I tell you that all the time. And I mean it."

"You lie so much, I don't even know what the truth sounds like coming from you," you mumbled, walking away from him to sit on the unoccupied table. If you were going to have a conversation with this man against your will, you at least wanted to be comfy.

"I ain't mean to lie baby, it's the only way I can leave you out of all this mess." He walked towards you, hands in his pockets. "I missed you."

"A little too late for that. You don't miss Mary?" you tilted your head to the size, revelling in the way he rolled his eyes.

"How many times i gotta tell you I'on care about her?"

"As many times as it takes to convince yourself."

"Fine, I'on care about her. There." He stared at you, watching your reaction. When he saw the faintest twitch in your lip, he smiled, knowing he was getting to you.

He took another step closer to you, now stood between your legs. You let him part your legs, like he had done so many times before, his hands gently moving your thighs. He didn't let go of them when he stood in between them, just ran his hands slowly up and down them.

"I'm sorry," he looked right into your eyes as he spoke. "I was gonna come looking for you today, but i figured you wouldn't wanna see me. But when I saw you today... I had to speak to you."

"Elias..." you sighed. "You can't just come back here after leaving me like that all those years ago, acting like everything's okay. You don't know how much you hurt me."

"I do know baby, 'course I do. It hurt me too."

"Not as much as it did me. You ain't the one who had to pick up the pieces of me after you left, Shirley did that. All cause you weren't there and still won't tell me why."

He sighed, stilling his hands on your thigh to lift your chin up.

"I'm here now, and I ain't goin' nowhere. I'm not leaving you again, i promise."

"Your promises don't mean shit to me anymore, Elias. You can't just sorry your way back into my life. I'm not as easy as you used to think I was."

"And why's that, hm? Some to do with that so called man you call yourself having? What's his face, Jeziah, was it?"

"Fuck you, Elias." you pushed him away from you, getting down from the table. Before you could leave again, he grabbed your arm, pulling you into his chest. His arms caged you in, firm and secure in his hold.

"If that's the typa timing you on, we can do that. But I'm not letting you leave til you hear me out."

"I have heard you out. I don't wanna hear no more," you shook your head.

His fingers stroked the material of your dress around your waist, it was taking everything in him to not pull it off of your right there. "Nah, you didn't. Look at me."

He tilted your head up towards his. "I love you. Only you, you're it for me. What I did... I know it was wrong and trust me I wanted to come back to you so bad, baby. But I had to do it, for both of us. What kinda man I'd be if i didn't provide for my woman?"

The fluttering feeling at your stomach only intensified when he called you his woman, taking you back all those years ago.

"You left me without saying a word, Elias," you whispered, voice breaking as a tear ran down your face. Elias hushed you, wiping the tear away, both his hands cupping your face.

"And I will spend the next forty or however many years saying sorry. I mean that." He kissed your forehead, both of you closing your eyes in that moment.

You shivered when his lips left your skin, your palms resting flat against his chest. He pulled back from the embrace just a little, looking at you as he spoke.

"You gon' let me come back?"

He was serious, about it all you could see now. You didn't reply, just brought your hand to the back of his head, pulling him towards you. When your lips met, you swore your legs would've buckled if he wasn't holding you so tight.

Your shawl dropped to the floor as you kissed him, his lips meshing with your so perfectly it was like the last seven years didn't even happen.

Jeremiah was the last thing on your mind in that moment, you could only focus on Stack's tongue wrestling with yours. You let out a moan when his hands trailed to your ass, squeezing as you made out.

He was first to pull away, wasting no time in kissing down your neck to your collarbone, leaving little bites that were sure to bruise sooner or later. And you let him, throwing your head back against his other shoulder, letting him do his work.

It wasn't until he started to walk you backwards, when your legs hit the edge of the table, that you realised what you both were about to do.

"Wait, E, hold on..." your put your arm between him and you, his eyes snapping to your face.

"What's wrong?"

A lot was wrong in that moment, you knew it.

"If I let you do this, you bet not mess up again," you spoke seriously. He nodded, starving for a taste as he bunched your dress up at your hips.

"I told you baby, I'm not goin' nowhere, not away from you again that's for sure."

He kissed your lips, undoing the buttons to both his waistcoat and dress shirt, leaving him shirtless in all his glory. Your hands raked down his toned front, pulling him back onto you.

As he kissed you tenderly, Stack's fingers slipped into your panties, being met by your wetness, allowing him to easily slip into you. He groaned at the same time you did, your head thrown back as he nudged you to lie down on the table.

"He get you this wet, hm?" He didn't need you to answer, he already knew what it would be. It would be nice to hear it though.

You shook your head. "Fuck, Elias, just do it already," you whined, having had enough of his fingers teasing your clit.

"Aight be patient, I gotta make sure she remembers me," he smiled.

You were about to say something slick, before you remembered just how slick Stack could get. Besides, he already began to take your panties off, pocketing them in his trousers.

He lowered his head to your clit, kissing it gently. Your hand immediately went to the back of his head, lips falling apart as he licked a bold stripe up your pussy.

"Fuck, I missed it here," he mumbled into you, the vibrations driving you crazy. It's not like it had been ages since you were last pleasured, but it had been ages since you were last pleasured by Stack. He had such a way with you, a way that no one else did.

He continued to lick slowly, so agonisingly slow at you, and it wasn't until you squeezed his head with your thighs that he finally gave in. After all, he did have loads of making up to do.

His hands came to your hips, holding you just like he wanted. Taking your clit in his mouth, he looked at you as he sucked, his tongue swirling around it. You couldn't hold eye contact, not when he was looking at you like that, your juices coated around his mouth.

"Oh, my God," you whispered, writhing underneath him as he picked up the pace.

"Why you so quiet? He done turned you shy, huh?" he smirked when he noticed your state.

"Stop talking about him," you groaned, feeling your body jerk as he worked you out, tongue lapping you for all your worth. "Fuck, I'm gonna─── Oh, shit!" You came before you knew it, only Stack could work you like that.

He kept on eating you out through your orgasm, letting you ride out your high on his face. "Just like that baby, give it to me," he encouraged you.

You had no more to give, at least not in that moment. He let go of your hips, only briefly as he sat up. You caught the sight of his glistening face, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips.

"Come here," you mumbled opening your arms for him as you sat up. He pulled you towards the end of the table, meeting your lips halfway. The taste of yourself on him drove you insane, the kiss just downright nasty.

Stack fumbled at his belt, undoing it before he dropped his trousers down as you kissed the side of his neck, your hand wrapped around his throat as he took his dick out of his pants.

He saw the way your eyes glistened at the sight of him, smirking as he unzipped your dress. Stepping out of it, the pair of you were fully naked, nothing new between you both.

"I missed you," you mumbled, a tired smile on your face and he hadn't even fucked you yet.

"Yeah? You missed me or you missed my dick?"

"Ain't it a part of you? It's the same damn thing," you rolled your eyes as your hands caressed his broad shoulders, kissing them.

Stack slid into you with a groan, hooking your legs around his hips as he slowly pushed in, getting accustomed to be inside you again. he wanted to savour this moment forever, your face scrunched up, mouth falling open as you let out such sultry sounds.

He waited for a moment before he started to thrust in and out of you, biting his lips to hold in his own groans. He let go of one side of your hip, bringing that hand to cup at your breasts, squeezing as his thrusts hit you in the right spots.

"Don't you go quiet on me now," your hand wrapped around his throat, pulling his face closer to yours. Stack's brows furrowed at your sudden boldness, but you could tell you already affected him given the way his thrusts stilled for a minute.

"Shit, baby, whatchu doin'?" he groaned, his forehead resting against your as he dug you out. "Fuck, you feel so good, mama. S'like I was never gone."

He regained his composure, swatting your hand away from his throat and instead grabbing yours, not too harsh, just the way you liked it. The sound of skin clapping was the only thing heard in the room, save for your moans that not even your hand could suppress. Thank God this was a juke joint.

"Elias, shittttt..." you shut your eyes tight, the familiar feeling of your orgasm approaching threatening to overwhelm you.

"Hold it," he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. He couldn't be serious, surely.

"Fuck, baby, I can't" you whined, nails scratching along his back as you tried to hold in your release.

"You can, just a lil' bit longer, mama." He sweet talked you, kissing your cheek as he neared his own orgasm. His hand left your neck back to your breasts, rubbing over your hardened nipples. It was too much, the way he was doing you.

"I can't─── shit baby I can't hold it," you whimpered, begging him to let you cum.

"Aight baby, give it to me," was all he said and you let go, a wave of pleasure blanketing you as you came, gushing all over his lower body. Stack fucked you through your orgasm as he came too with a low moan, pushing his seed in and out of you as he slowed down.

"Shit," he sighed out, looking down at the mess you both made. He slowly pulled out of you, kissing your lips as he used his dick to push his cum back in you. He was still the same nasty man you knew.

"I think fat ma missed me," he joked, laughing when you hit his chest. "C'mon, 'fore Smoke think I'm dead."

He helped you get dressed, conveniently finding and unused towel to wipe you both down. You dress now back on, you fixed your hair as best as you could.

Stack put everything of his back on too, tilting his head to the side when he caught you looking at him expectantly, "Yeah?"

"My panties, Elias."

"Nah, I'ma hold onto 'em fore you. C'mon," you rolled your eyes as he opened the door for you, being met with the sound of music yet again. You walked out before him, taking a deep breath and trying to act like that didn't just happen. You saw Shirley, walking towards her.

Before Stack could catch up wit you, Bo caught his arm, looking between the two of you with a smirk on his face.

"Ain't no goddamn way," he laughed. "You know she's in it with that lawyer guy up in Delta, right?"

"So, nigga? I had her first."

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