#stack x y/n

[decayingearf]

his brothers bestfriend chap 7

✗ warnings: 18+, mdni, pinv (unprotected for a reason), teasing!stack, slight possessive!stack, slight bratty!reader, cuddly!stack, cuddly!reader, a smidge of after care, breeding kink, pregnancy.

synopsis: the first time you and elias made love was eventful. are you ready for what comes after the baby making process?

the next day, you and elias were in bed all cuddled up. he was laying flat with his back against the bed whilst you straddled him with your arms wrapped around his neck.

had he been all over you like this, you would’ve had a problem. ‘elias get up, you’re suffocating me’ ‘sleep on your own pillow’ were some common ones. but somehow, he didn’t mind at all.

he scratched his head and got ready to turn over before, wrapping an arm around your lower back and flipping you over with him. it felt great. his bulge pressed against your cunt even while restrained, felt amazing.

you locked your ankles behind his back causing him to groan, “you good?” he hesitated “mmmhm, why?” you spoke groggily ahead of him raising his head to look at you.

“you ‘on’t usually want it that close to you” “i just missed you a lot, baby” you excused causing him to nod and kiss your lips. #firstmorningbreathkiss! 

most of the day was spent with yall in bed and laid up. you pressed harder against bulge hoping he’d get the hint and give you what you want. he chuckled “what’s up with the teasin’ mama? you want some?” yes, we want some!

you played dumb “what?” he kissed his teeth and reached his hand down rubbing your ass “you know what you want, ‘on’t you? tell me.” elias instructed in your ear kissing just below it. “nah if you wanna play stupid, fine.” you whined pushing him away before he caught your arm and pulled you back “alright alright for real, all you gotta do is tell me what you want” chuckled elias with a shrug.

“you know what i want” “no i don’t mama, tell me” you sighed knowing he was teasing “i want some dick”.

──── ୨୧ ────

you laid down holding your legs with closed eyes, wishing this moment would never end. “open them eyes up, ma” letting his dick go deeper. you huffed and opened your eyes before they squinted again.

“right there” you moaned with a whine at the feeling, “tell daddy where you want it baby” he voiced with a smirk before thrusting into you relentlessly.

you’d cry and whine as your legs shook fighting to stay open and up, “yo shit feel so good, fuck” elias groaned keeping his rhythm “who pussy is this?” “yours daddy, it’s yours” you told watching as it goes in and out.

you nearly lost it when he went deeper, bottoming you out.

“fuck please—don’t stop daddy” you begged as he watched the shake of your legs and body. to make matters worse, he flicked his thumb around on your clit vigorously.

“oh fuck” you cried before you reached your orgasm and your walls clenched around his dick, milking him of all his nut. “you somethin’ else” he stated collapsing on top of you then quickly kissing your cheeks and neck.

he cleaned you up moments after then laid with you while you slept.

──── ୨୧ ────

after a few days you started to feel horrible. moody, emotional, and nauseous.

you were currently in the bathroom holding a pregnancy test and praying. “what this one say?” “the same thing as the last one, stack” you sassed throwing the stick down.

“we pregnant” elias spoke.

[minaaaliyah]

Velvet Lights and Quite Hearts

She works nights at a strip club no one knows about. She studies during the day. And in between, she’s raising her little sister alone — after losing their mom and watching their dad disappear into addiction.

Layla is quiet, shy, and used to doing everything on her own.

Until she meets Stacks, the club's powerful owner with a soft spot he keeps hidden… and Mary, the dancer with fire in her eyes and warmth in her touch. They see her — all of her — and somehow, they stay. The three of them build something real in the dark, something safe.

But she never lets them near Ava.

Her two worlds don’t mix. They can’t.

Until a knock at the door changes everything.

Now CPS is watching. Her secrets are cracking. And the people she tried to protect might be the only ones who can save her from herself.

[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! 🫧

[cremeful]

thinking about how stack is so mean in bed :c .. how he just manhandles you so easily as if you’re made out of feathers, flipping you over on to your back and folding you into a mating press…

“oh look at you” he say it mockingly, you look absolutely wrecked, soft curls tossed, dark redish and purple bruises decorate your skin, drool smeared all over your mouth nd chin.. yet stack still thinks you look beautiful.

his cock bullies his way inside of you, you’re gripping on too his shoulders for dear life as if you could float away, tears staining your face, from the pure bliss. you start blabbing out incoherent thoughts but stack understand you better than yourself.

you’re to far gone and he just put his cock in you, it’s embarrassing to say the least. stack is a man that is there to give and you are there to take but something about this is different. he is taking everything from you and you are letting him.

he sits up on his knees, your legs now laying across his thighs, he leans down and kisses you. it’s sloppy and wet. his tongue slips into yours and your panting like a dog in heat, your hand on the back of his neck pulling him in to get even closer. he pulls away with a string of saliva following.

“such a nasty little thing. who taught you these things, huh?” he’s taunting you like he doesn’t know the answer, the first time you two had sex was your first time and he turned you out to say the least.

you say nothing, pushing your hips up for friction, a soft plead leaves your lips, he chuckles and pushes your hips down, “lets play a little game, called find the button.” his voice is sickening sweet yet he is doing things that shouldn’t sound remotely close to sweet. he watches as he slides into you, he can see you coat his length, he laughs to himself.

you try pushing at his stomach for him to let up but your weak temps barely break his focus. once he is fully inside of you, he slowly starts thrusting inside of you. you can feel him in your stomach, heart and soul. you try closing your legs but his grip is tight and wont allow you the mercy.

“no, its okay. you can take it, its all yours” he says it breathless. your squeezing around him so tightly that it makes him dizzy, his hand comes down to your stomach and presses down. you cry out, gripping the sheets “i cant i cant!” he just laughs, “i think i found it baby”

[chromehoney]

drabble — “playground rules.” smokestack twins! x black!brat!curvy!fem!reader

You were feeling yourself today. A little gloss, a little waist, and way too much attitude. “I know y’all not mad ‘cause I didn’t answer the phone,” you say, slouched pretty on the couch, acrylics dancing as you scroll your feed like they’re lucky you even showed up. “Y’all act like I don’t got options. Like I ain’t the one lettin’ y’all touch all this—”

You motion toward your thighs with a dramatic roll of the eyes, legs crossed like a goddess at rest, but your smirk is damn near evil.

Stack’s posted by the kitchen, chewing on a toothpick, and every time you look at him he’s grinning like he’s about to do something illegal. Which, knowing him, he is.

“Keep talkin’,” he says, low and with a shake of his head. “You cute as hell, but your mouth gettin’ a little too grown.” “That so?” you purr, not even looking up. “Then maybe y’all ain’t built for me. I need grown men, not two hood twins with matching tempers.”

Stack lets out a bark of a laugh. “She said hood twins, bro.”

Smoke’s sitting on the arm of the opposite chair, legs spread wide, blunt tucked behind his ear. He hasn’t said much, but you feel his eyes on you heavy—quiet and dangerous. The kind of silence that makes the room feel hotter.

“You keep pokin’ the fire,” Smoke murmurs finally, voice like molasses, “then act surprised when it burns you.” You shrug like it’s nothing. “I’m just sayin’. Y’all lucky I even came over tonight. Coulda been laid up with—”

“Don’t finish that,” Stack cuts in, stepping forward. “Don’t even try me.”

You tilt your head, slow and smug, and flash that bratty little smile that gets you in trouble every time. “Tryin’ you would mean I think you can keep up.”That’s when the mood shifts—quick and charged, like lightning before a storm. You feel it crawl up your skin.

Stack’s already pacing, pulling his shirt off like he’s ready to prove a point with his hands, not his words. And Smoke—still calm—lights the lighter in one smooth flick, eyes locked on you, reading you like a sin he already forgave.

You sit there in the plush of your attitude, legs crossed and mouth twisted, daring either of them to say something slick. Stack’s already pacing like a caged pitbull, his grill flashing every time he smirks your way, tongue licking over a gold tooth like he could bite into you if you let him.

“You real loud for somebody sittin’ pretty with not a damn thing to back it up,” Stack mutters, his voice thick with that wild-boy heat. He’s got his shirt half off again, tattoos on display like threats. “Wanna run that mouth, baby girl? Say less.”

But Smoke—your other problem—gets up out the chair and leans on the wall like he ain’t even in the same room, fingers lazily flipping a lighter open and closed. Calm. Dangerous in a whole different way. His eyes skim over you once, slow and knowing, and you feel it low, like he’s already mapped out exactly how you’re gonna fold.

“You done, Stack?” he says finally, smooth voice coasting across the tension like velvet. “She just want attention. She bratty, not stupid.”

“Oh, she?” you bark back, grinning, sharp. “She’s right here. And she’s bored.” Stack’s across the room in two steps, grabbing you by the thigh, dragging your chair toward him so fast it screeches. “Keep actin’ bored, baby,” he growls, “see how long we let you talk.”

But Smoke’s already behind you now, fingertips dragging up your shoulder, brushing your neck like silk. His breath kisses your ear. “Don’t worry, mamas,” he hums. “We gon’ make sure you remember which one of us breaks you… and which one makes you beg.”

And just like that, your little bratty spell cracks—body caught between fire and smoke, between wild and controlled. Stack’s hand gripping tighter, Smoke’s palm settling low on your belly, grounding you. “You playin’ with both of us now,” Smoke whispers. “Playground rules, mama,” Stack adds. “You act up, you get double.”

And your thighs—traitors that they are—press tight. Because you love rules. Especially the ones you get to break.

this is lowkey asssss… but idk i kinda like it.

@cursed-carmine for the dividers.

[bluudsucka]

everything is romantic - stack x fem!reader

summary: the bond you share with stack is intense, passionate, and sensual. you both gain great gratification by just being near each other. anything and everything that you did was drenched in romance, and tonight is one of the many, many nights you display your affection for each other.

word count: 3k

warnings: smut, female reader, vampire reader, vampire sex, blood drinking, blood loss, oral sex, the hive mind, mutual obsession, set in the early 90s

author's note: hey ya'll here's another fic, i wanted to try and exercise my writing muscle and try to push myself into a different writing style. (i finished writing this hella late at night and couldn't sleep, so forgive some spelling errors!) i appreciate each and every read! thank ya so much! enjoy!

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Harsh red neon lights cascaded over your frame, cutting through the darkness that is the night. The sign displayed the iconography of Jesus - his arms spread wide open - welcoming the lost souls that strayed too far from his comforting light. The muffled sounds of dogs barking and passing rap music lulled you into a peaceful trance, any normal person would avoid this part of town like the plague, giving it a wide berth as they pass through the city.  

But this part of town didn't phase you, nor did it phase your man. 

The radio within the bright cherry red convertible you waited in played a song, the melody becoming static as the old 1966 radio couldn't keep up with the new wave of electronic melodies the song had. Stack loved his vintage cars, and he dropped a pretty penny for this particular one.  

The sound of a bell caught your attention; any human wouldn't have heard it though the thick noise that loomed over the Chicago streets. But you weren't human. 

Not anymore.  

You smiled a toothy grin at your lover as he crossed the street, his eyes shielded by dark shades and his face was stern, surely just by looking at him he seemed like the dangerous no-nonsense type. And he was when he dealt with business, but with you, he was as lively and energetic as a lovesick schoolboy. 

He's your man, he's your baby, he's your everything.  

"Hey, baby. Everythin' cool?" You asked, leaning forward to plant a wet and tender kiss onto his lips. He kissed you back instinctively, his body couldn't help but to crave your every touch. 

Your every kiss. 

"Yea', dropped off the 'work', we should have the rest of the night to ourselves." He stated as he turned the key that rested into the ignition of the car, the loud engine roaring to life like a beast. You giggled as your fingers adjusted your gold bamboo earring, making sure the jewelry wasn't caught in your hair.  

Your recent hairstyle was simple - cornrows - straightbacks with clear beads at the end, the braids stopping at your midback while soft baby hairs framed your face perfectly. Stacked loved it when you wore braids, and it didn't hurt that he paid to have your hair done. 

He always paid for you, you never have to ask.  

Not once. 

Winding down the twisting concrete road, you placed your hand on the nape of his neck, massaging his tense muscles as your nails lightly grazed his ear. Stack's skin was cold, freezing to the touch, and so was yours. One of the downsides of being a vampire, but within each other's arms, you could feel the heat of love you both held for each other.  

You weren't an old vampire, you were turned in the year 1985, the same year that you ran into Stack. And compared to him you were merely a fledging, learning about your new life and abilities through him. Your baby was the one who turned you and offered a second chance at 'living', ironically your heart doesn't beat anymore and the once warm blood that nourished your body was cold and coagulated. 

Yet you never felt so alive before. 

Reaching for your hand, Stack placed a tender kiss onto the icy skin, his perfectly soft lips trailed kisses up your arm. His lips rested on a worn tattoo the clung onto your body, you had gotten a few tattoos before you turned, meaning that you were truly stuck with them forever. No amount of laser removal could erase them. 

You hated them, but Stack adored them, treating each line of ink as if it was crafted by Basquiat himself. Stack would tell you about his time living before he was turned, tattoos were a thing, but it was an expensive luxury a few could afford during the 1930s.  

"We headin' home, baby?" You asked, which earned a nod from him, his hand leaving your touch as he switched the car in a different gear. Even though the man was sitting right next to you, you yearned and missed his calloused hands tracing over your skin. You wanted to kiss him, to hold him close to your body until you both turn into nothing but weeping messes. 

Thoughts of the night before danced across your buzzing mind. How his lips trailed all over your body, how your nails dug into his brown skin as he fucked you against the wall of your shared bedroom, you both so desperate for each other that you couldn't even make it to the bed.  

Stack tilted his head towards you and shot you a wide smile, the sight of his sharp canines made your thighs squeeze together as the familiar ache raised within your core, the sight of his golden grillz only added fuel to the already wildfire that was your lust. You could feel his growing arousal too, thanks to both of your minds being linked to each other, exchanging every intense feeling between the two of you. 

It was like a secret language only the two of you could speak, no one could ever understand or comprehend the connection that fused your psyches together, even other vampires that rolled within your social circle were at a loss with how in sync you and Stack were. No other words were verbally spoken between the two of you, only lustful thoughts swapped back and forth. 

You couldn't wait to get home. 

He went double the speed limit. 

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒── 

Eager and hungry kisses greedily bombard your neck; the familiar sharp sensation of teeth dragged across your skin. With shaking hands you clung onto Stack, your own desperation to share your body with him quickly became overbearing. 

You need to feel him. 

In a perfect world you would spend your days fucking each other while sharing the deepest of memories with each other, scanning each other minds in reverence as if those memories were important ancient text. But with wise words Stack always reminded you: "We got business to do." But even when working side by side, every action you both did for each other was lanced in romance. 

Everything you two did was romantic. 

Groaning into his mouth, Stacked lifted you up from your feet, not breaking the kiss as he led you towards the bedroom. The sound of expensive decor crashed onto the marble ground; paintings of black art that hung deliberately onto the cream-colored walls hit the ground with heavy thuds as your mouths fought each other for dominance.  

Stack was normally the more dominant one in bed, but some nights he would relinquish his power, gladly submitting to you. His commanding frame melting under your touch as you fucked him, legs locking him in place until he came. 

But this night it seemed like both of you wanted to be in charge, which meant things within your luxury apartment were bound to be broken by the time you both were satisfied. Biting on the bottom of his lip, hard enough to draw blood, Stack groaned in pleasure as his firm grip on your ass grew harsher. 

You loved the taste of his blood, it was savory and rich, like a well-aged full bodied red wine. And the high of devouring his blood sent a rush towards your head, making it spin in mild delirium. Your lips were stained in his dark blood as your eyes lit up with a fiery ember color, the bright red replaced your natural color irises as you held Stack close. But without warning he tossed you towards the soft bed, making you land haphazardly on the white comforter.  

"I ain't playin' with you tonight, girl."  

Licking your crimson cover lips you gave him mischievous grin, your sharp fangs catching onto your thick lips. "What you mean, Elias? I ain't do nothin'."  

You tried to feign ignorance, shrugging your shoulders as giggles escaped your lungs, which in turn earned a chuckle from the older vampire. Lying to him was downright useless - his mind is yours, and your mind is his. But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't entertained by your half-assed charade of innocence.  

Crawling towards his towering frame, your hands raced up toned arms, your fingers tracing his muscles through his long sleeve shirt - as if trying to memorize every curve. With skilled fingers, your hands met with his as you both began to unbutton his shirt. He wore a long sleeve color-block shirt, the colors representing the Pan-African flag, and underneath the thin shirt a white wife-beater adorned his beautiful brown skin. The white shirt made him look as if he himself was glowing. 

With soft kisses your lips trailed from his jaw, towards his neck, and stopped at his chest where a thick gold chain - a Jesus piece - wreathe around the base of his neck and shoulders. With sharp teeth you opened your mouth, ready to sink your fangs into his cold skin again and consume more of his delectable blood. But with a strong and calloused hand he held onto your jaw, pushing your face away from his toned chest. 

A lustful smile pulled at your lips as your held onto his wrist, your thumb rubbing small circles on the back of his hand.  

"You already took a bite outta me without my permission, baby. You gotta prove to me that you deserve another drink." He muttered as his lips ghosted above yours, his heavy words seeped into your open mouth, your nails digging deep into his skin as the feeling of his breath made you shiver. 

"You can drink from me if you're so upset about it." 

"I already know I can," Stacked pushed you back onto the bed. "But that ain't the point." 

With nimble hands Stack pulled the thin white shirt above his head and off his body, strong and sturdy muscles met your fiery eyes, and you noticed that his eyes had changed too. His once warm and chestnut brown irises were now replaced with milky grey eyes. 

You were obsessed with those eyes. 

Positioning himself above your smaller frame your arms pulled him in close, with proficient and dexterous hands, he cupped your breast - slipping his hand underneath your skintight bodysuit you wore. Stack knew exactly were to touch you, kissing and squeezing the places that only he knew could make you moan out in ecstasy. 

Tough fingers rolled and pinched your right nipple, rolling the sensitive bud as you squirm underneath him, your hips bucking up towards his in an attempt to ease your aching core. With a smile Stack placed kisses on the crook of your neck, his sharp canines dragging against your soft yet freezing skin. 

And he bit down. 

Stack's blood was savory and bold, just like his personality. While yours was sweet like fruit with an undertone of spice. You cried out his name as he continued to drink from you, the feeling of his tongue pressing against your neck made your body shiver. Quick and desperate fingers reached in between your flush bodies; you can't take any more of this teasing.  

"Take these pants off, baby." You moan, tugging at the waistband of his jeans. You could feel his member growing hard against your thigh, he wanted to feel you, connect with you, devour you - bad.  

"All this teasin' and shit, I know you want me, I can feel you wanting me." 

With a wet pop, Stack's bloody lips pulled away from your neck. Crimson dripping from the wound and bloomed onto the thick strap of your orange bodysuit.  

"I can feel you wanting me too." He uttered, as his free hand slowly rubbed your sex through the thin fabric of your clothes. You were dripping, and you wouldn't be surprised if he could feel it without undressing you fully. With one last pinch on your nipple Stack pulled away from you, leaning upwards as his hands helped yours undress yourself. Sliding the bodysuit off your body, you were exposed underneath his intense gaze.  

Hungry eyes danced and raced over every curve on your body, all you wore now was a dangerously thin thong that left nothing to the imagination, the fabric was his favorite color. 

Red. 

Sitting up on your knees you unbuckled his belt, his eyes watched your movements as he rolled his broad shoulders, muscular chest already rising and falling rapidly with anticipation as your knuckles ghosted over his skin. Biting the bottom of his blood-stained lips you pulled down his pants along with his boxers, freeing his dick that strained against his pants. 

His lips crashed into yours as the taste of iron savory-sweet iron filled your mouth, frenzied lips danced across each other as you both fought for dominance. When you and Stack got into this state, it was like a battle when you both kissed, as if to see which one would back down and let the other lead tonight. His tongue grazed over your sharp fangs as his hands helped your thighs wrap around his waist, the feeling of his well-trained muscles pressing against your body made you smile. 

"Eat this pussy." You breathlessly demanded in between fevered kisses; your raunchy request earned you a moan from Stack. His lips kissed your cheek, your bloody neck and shoulder, your breast, the soft skin of your stomach, and landing on last wet kiss on the mound of your pussy. The feeling of his cold chain brushed against your clit as your legs rest on his shoulders, a wave of pleasure rushed through your cold veins.  

Pulling your panties to the side his tongue took a long drag across your aching core, his pale vampiric eyes not breaking contact with yours, tasting your juices as he stopped his tongue at your sensitive bud. Stack repeated his licking you as he moaned, his nails digging into your thighs. If you were alive, you knew that his nails would've left deep scars onto your skin, but as soon as his hands reach to hold your hips down onto the bed you could feel the sore and tender skin heal over.  

"Mhm, just like that. You hungry ain't you?" You groaned as your hand stroked his hair, trying your best not to mess up his waves. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked as if his life depended on it, nodding his head in agreement at your words. Hungry was an understatement - he was starved. Your blood tasted sweet, but your pussy tasted even sweeter on his tongue.  

Moaning into your core Stack pushed his face even deeper, it felt like nirvana just to taste your sex, and he felt your pleasure too - due to the link your minds created. Your hips bucked helplessly into his face, making him pull away from you, a wide grin plastered onto his beautiful features. His bloody lips mixed with your juices planted a kiss onto your knee. His nimble and skillful fingers pressed onto your clit as he slowly began to rub circles on your sensitive button.  

"Oh, fuck. Keep touchin' me like that, baby. Yes, yes!" You groaned rolling your hips against his hand. His fingers began to tease your aching entrance, your thoughts exchanging with his. He already knew you wanted to be filled, and slowly he pressed his pointer and index finger inside of you. His eyes raked over your squirming body at the feeling of his fingers; leisurely he began fucking you with his fingers. His skilled digits stretching you out deliciously. 

Pressing your chest against his Stack's bloody lips whispered against your ear, you could feel his kissable lips stretching into a smile with each word he spoke.  

"That feels good, don't it?"  

You replied with a moan no words were needed to be uttered, he already knew what you were feeling, he felt it too. The wet sound of your pussy swallowing his fingers greedily echoed through your mind and your cried out in pure bliss as he added another one - three fingers now inside you, his knuckles brushing against your swollen clit. Him touching you felt like paradise, if you could die again with him in your arms, you'd gladly do so.  

The familiar knot formed within loins and Stack felt it within him too, his fingers picking up the pace as his mouth attached onto your clit again, licking and sucking between each thrust of his fingers. Rolling your hips in rhythm with his calloused digits the aching knot within your insides snap, causing you to cry out in euphoria. Your nails dug into his toned shoulders, drawing blood that seeped underneath your nails as your body shook underneath the man.  

Pulling away from your spent pussy Stack held onto your hips, flipping your body with ease as if you weight nothing, laying on his back while you straddled him. With a sigh you leaned forward, your arms caging him in as you planted a ravenous kiss on his plump lips, tasting yourself on his tongue and mustache. His face was drenched with your juices, and you couldn't get enough of it, both of your mouths moved in sync with each other as your strong thighs squeezed around his hips. 

Pulling away from his open mouth a string of saliva connected your bottom lip with his, and steady hands found their way towards his chest. The string that connected your mouths snapped as you looked down between yourselves, helping Stack line himself to enter inside you. Holding the base of his dick with your hand - his hand on top of your, guiding you - you slowly eased yourself onto him. 

"Fuck..." He groaned as his hips bucked forward, his hands desperately reaching for your waist to steady his movements. A high pitch grunt escaped your lungs as you grinded into him, your head rolling back in pleasure. Slowly, you began to bounce on him, the feeling of his thick cock stretching you and hitting that spot sent shockwaves down your spine, the sounds of the bed creaking underneath you helped you pace your movements. His hips bucked forward, fucking into your core as your hands laid flat on his toned chest.  

"You like my dick inside you, baby? Huh? You like that?" 

"I love it!"  

Stack groaned in response as he guided your hips with his hand, his mouth open slack as his milky irises closed, face twisting in satisfaction. Tangerine colored streetlights crept into your shared bedroom, cutting through the dark as the orange light painted Stack's face and body, the harsh light only accentuated and emphasized his strikingly handsome features. Your left hand cupped his face, stroking his cheek lovingly as you fucked into him, the feeling of his facial hair tickling the icy palm of your hand.  

He's beautiful and he's yours. 

Leaning forward to steady yourself, your long braids brushed against the side of his chiseled jaw, and without a second thought Stack's hand latched onto them. The sound of your hair beads echoed as he wrapped the braids around his hand, creating a fist that forced you to tilt your head to the side exposing your bloodied neck. The comforting sting of him pulling your hair made your ruby red eyes roll into the back of your head, your hips snapping on his as he fucked you more forcefully now.  

With your panties still on - just pushed to the side - the lacy fabric pressed and rubbed against the side of his cock. The burning feeling of his orgasm bloomed within his unbeating heart. Adjusting yourself from your knees your feet laid flat on the bed, bouncing on his cock as if you were riding a mechanical bull. Your pussy was squeezing him perfectly and his booming voice whimpered out in carnal pleasure.  

He was close. 

Your thumbs were tucked underneath his gold chain as you sensually rubbed his shoulders, helping him ease into the intense climax was swiftly approaching.  

"Mhm, mhm." Stack chanted, biting down on his lip, drawing blood from the flesh. His hips bucked unrhythmically and frantic, his mind buzzing as he desperately chased after the high of coming - his glossy eyes shined bright in the darkness, long lashes blinking with each stroke he gave your soaking pussy.  

Your body felt so good. 

With a breathy cry you begged: "C-Can I bite you, please baby!? You taste so good when you come, I need it." 

Without exchanging words Stack lulled his head to the side and pulled you by your braids, your lips crashing on his neck. Sharp fangs plunged into his skin as his hips rocked you back and forth, the familiar savory taste of his blood was now rich - it reminded you of the warm and filling home cooked meals you use to devour when you were alive. Stack's muscular frame shook underneath you at the feeling of you drinking from him, his toes curling as he called out your name, as if it were a song. The feeling of his dick twitching inside you made the knot in your stomach snap and you came, Stack following closely behind - the feeling of his thick come filling you up nicely. 

Sometimes you wish the two of you weren't dead. You'd make pretty babies. 

Releasing your braids from his iron grip, Stack's arms laid limp at his sides, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried his best to catch his breath. With one last lick your tongue lapped up the blood that was leaking from his already healing wound.  

"Damn, girl." He mumbled as his shaky hand pat your thigh, which cause you to giggle out in pride, confidence consuming your body at the success in you pleasing your man. 

Your baby. 

With him still inside you rocked your hips ruthlessly which made him shut his eyes with a hiss, his dick was sensitive and overstimulated, but that only made you want him more. Your soaking pussy becoming even wetter. 

You were ready for round two. 

Large hands cupped your ass and slowly Stack lifted you off of his hard yet spent member, you tossed yourself by his side, your bloody lips planting a soft kiss on his shoulder as crimson blood bloomed underneath your bodies - staining the white bedsheets maroon.  

"You know I love you, Elias." You whispered, his real name rolled off of your tongue as the words you spoke oozed with sincerity. Turning his head Stack's once cloudy pale eyes were now his natural chestnut brown, a soft smile pulled at his lips, golden capped teeth shined so bright within the dark room.  

"I know, baby. I love you even more." 

His words made you sigh in pure adoration, and that familiar tingly sensation crept back again between your legs. Scarlet covered lips left kiss shaped stains against his brown skin, the marks trailing over his pecks and abs, stopping just above his happy trail as he melted under your touch. 

Tonight was gonna be long, but that didn't bother ya'll none. 

[dollerin]

VOICE OF AN 𝓐𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑳 stack moore.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝑳𝐔𝐃𝐄 ─── you’ve got one hell of a talent, everyone knows that except for the notorious, stack. but he may be the one to get you your very first gig when he finds out. he says you shouldn’t let your gift go to waste, you’ve got the voice of an angel.

elias ‘stack’ moore x f. reader romance strangers to lovers physical touch 𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝗐𝖼. 𝟣.𝟩𝗄 ─── 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒

part 2 available here

The old restaurant smelled of tobacco smoke and the pork chops that were being made in the kitchen, the aged wood scent lingering with it. It was crowded, per usual, but you didn’t mind—it meant you and your mother were getting business.

Fridays were usually the busiest anyway, people getting off of work, needing a good meal and a drink to wash down their rough week. Some work all day in the field and want to run away from the trouble of the other folks out to get them. And then there were others who just wanted to dance.

No matter where they were from, you served them anyway, a smile always on your face. Though working and serving for your mama wasn’t ideal, it was a start—a start to your dreams. And you were okay with that.

You weaved through the tables and small crowds of dancing elders, placing plates in front of people and collecting the empty ones. This was nothing new to you, so it came like second nature.

The music in your mama’s joint wasn’t slow, but it wasn’t fast, either. It was the perfect tempo for people to groove along and for you to begin humming to yourself as you cleaned off empty tables. The band that played were a few good family friends that agreed to play there every night, no pay required. Every once in a while, you join them. Sometimes they played popular blues songs, other times they played the songs that you wrote yourself, and knew all the lyrics to. Now, of course, the audience didn’t know the songs but they didn’t have to. Your voice was what captivated them.

By now, it was a regular thing for someone to come up to you and request a song—or just ask you to go on stage so they could hear you. All you could ever do was nod your head and bashfully agree as you walked up.

But tonight, it didn't happen. Not yet, anyway.

Maybe it was because your mama needed some extra help, with the amount of folks that piled into her restaurant. Your cousin—the only chef that she had at the moment, was sick so she was forced to do all the cooking by herself, instead of helping you serve.

As you continued to hum to yourself, the music still echoing throughout the restaurant, the bell on the door jingled. Your back was turned, but you heard footsteps as another customer came in. They didn’t ask to be seated, though.

You glanced behind you to see that they’d taken a seat at the bar, but then you did a double take once you saw who it was.

Some people whispered to each other, but they didn’t dare make eye contact with the person.

Stack.

One of the famous Delta twins. Dressed in that red hat that sat low, hiding his eyes a bit.

You turned back to the task at hand, not wanting your staring to be too obvious—though it probably already was. You could hear him shuffling in his seat at the bar, the sound of his lighter flicking and him inhaling a bit.

You continued working as if he weren’t there, humming along to the music. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes boring into the back of your head.

Soon, the music ended on the stage, leading everyone to applaud before the band started their next song. Some of them walked off the stage, taking a bathroom break or a sip of water. You continued humming to yourself, even as the music was gone.

“Y/N! Hey!” Someone called out to you.

Your head popped up, seeing one of the band members headed right toward you.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“You wanna c’mon for our next number? It’s your favorite,” he said.

“What? ‘Down Hearted Blues’?” You asked, quirking your eyebrow.

The man chuckled, “You know it.”

You thought about it for a moment, his constant ‘c’mon’ had made you want to go up there and grab that microphone. But you weren’t so sure if you’d do that tonight.

“Oh, I don’t know, sir—“

“Go on up there! You know everybody love yo’ voice!”

You shook your head, hiding the bashfulness on your face.

He turned around to the rest of the restaurant, raising his voice for everyone to hear, “Aye, y’all, don’t y’all love lil’ Y/N’s voice? Don’t ya’ love when she sing for us?”

They all paused what they were doing to agree, the area erupting with applause and cheers. That didn’t make your case any better, if you were one of them white folks, you would’ve looked like a tomato by now.

Your smile grew as the people’s focus was now on you, encouraging you to head up on that stage.

“C’mon, Y/N, sing for us!”

“I wanna hear some good ol’ blues tonight!”

“Girl, if you don’t get up there—!”

After a moment of them all trying to persuade you at once, you drop the cleaning towel on the table you were standing at. You walked through the crowd again, walking toward the stage with loud cheers behind you.

The smile on your face never dropped, even as you got to the center of the wooden platform.

Stack was tucked into the back of the restaurant still, remaining in his seat at the bar. He took another drag of his cigarette, waiting to see what all the ruckus was about—what the big deal was about one voice.

People took their places at their tables and some stood around as the instrumental of your favorite song began to play. You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes as the lyrics began to flow out of you.

Were there folks watching you all around the restaurant? Yes.

But you could feel a certain pair glued to you. Like they couldn’t move. Like they didn’t want to move.

You sang out, your voice drifting throughout the restaurant like a harp played in the moonlight. You clutched your chest, reciting the lyrics as if you had lived by them.

Stack looked up at the platform from beneath his hat, the cigarette sitting between his plump lips. They curled up at the corners, a smirk playing on his face as he listened to you. He could’ve sworn he died and came back when he heard, nodding his head slowly in approval and enjoyment.

You twirled to the side of the stage, your long work dress flowing with you as you fell in love with the music all over again. People not only loved you for your voice, but for your performance. How you let the chords flow through your veins. The music was you.

As the band began to reach the end of the song, you smiled out to your little crowd, seeing all them send cheers your way.

You made your way off of the stage, hugging some of them, others kissing you on the cheek.

“Alright, y’all, I gotta get back to work now,” you laughed, cheeks burning from your wide grin.

They all let you get back to your duties, still cheering you on from afar, but not wanting to hear any fuss from your Mama.

You walked back to the table you were at before, grabbing the dirty towel to place in the basket full of other used cloth.

“‘Scuse me, miss,” a voice said from behind you.

You turned to see Stack grinning at you, sly look plastered on his face, per usual.

“Um, hi?”

“Hi,” he repeated. “I don’t mean to bother, but… that was you singing up there?”

You nodded.

“Mhm.”

He smiled, gold pieces on display. His eyes scanned you for a moment before speaking again.

“Just wanted to let you know I enjoyed it. Sounded like an angel sent from heaven.”

You raised your brow, slightly, “Thanks.”

He moved a hair closer to you, eyes never moving from yours.

“I’m offerin’ you a spot down at this here Juke Joint.. You know the SmokeStack twins?” He asked, eyes shimmering in the restaurant’s dim lighting.

“Yeah, I heard of em’. What that gotta do with a Juke Joint?”

“We openin’ one. Right here in the Delta.” He said proudly.

You folded your arms, not responding.

“So? What you say, huh?” His voice lowered, his words only heard between you both.

You narrowed your eyes up at him, “I don’t know.. I don’t understand what I would be gettin’ outta this.”

“Well,” he ran his tongue over his lip. “Thirty cents an hour. And a front-row seat to this here pretty face. Can’t beat that.”

Something about his little comment made your stomach tumble, but you straightened your stance.

“Still not hearin’ what this’ll do for me.”

He sighed, looking around for a moment before turning back to you.

“I meant it when I said you got a voice on ya, pea. Voice like that don’t come ‘round often. Why don’t you come on out? Show folks what the blues s’posed to feel like?”

You kept your eyes on him, thinking for a moment. You didn’t know if this was just a way for him to keep persuading you to come so he could try and take you home—or what. But he had a point. How would you ever get to where you wanna be in life, with your gift, if you don’t show it to folks outside the restaurant?

You tapped your foot, trying to make a decision.

“I…” you started, looking down at your scuffed shoes.

He hummed, waiting for your response, leaning down to follow your gaze.

“You in or what?”

“Lemme talk to my Mama. See what she says, she might—“

“You a grown-ass woman, what you talkin’ bout’, askin’ your mama?” His eyes scanned you again, lips twitching like he was holding back a grin.

“She might need my help,” you finish your sentence, cutting your eyes at him. “It ain’t easy runnin’ a restaurant all by yourself, now.”

Stack gave a short nod, hand coming to his pocket, shifting around it. He pulled out some cash—real dollars, not just coins. He grabbed your hand from your side, placing the paper right in your palm.

“That gon’ cover one night for y’all?” He asked, already knowing the answer as you stared down at the money, mouth agape.

“I— You—“

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow night, then? Bring some of your mama’s platters, hear?”

And with that, he tipped his hat, showing off the gold in his mouth before turning to the door.

꒰ ≧ ̫ ≦ ꒱ྀི : decided to split this in two parts !! :) first sinners fic.. kinda nervy tho.

[titaniasfairy]

smoke def prefers reverse cowgirl, he likes watching the way you move your hips as you bounce up and down on him. he’ll grab your hips, moving you the way he likes as you throw your head back in pleasure. he’ll keep quiet most of the time, with the exceptions of a few expletives exclaimed here and then. he likes listening to your own moans, they stroke his ego while your pussy strokes his cock.

stack, on the other hand, prefers you ride traditional cowgirl. he loves looking up at your pretty face, he grins while admiring you pleasing yourself on him. he loves watching your tits bounce with each stroke, no matter what size. he’ll even reach a hand up to grab and knead them once in a while. stack will grip your hips to keep you steady, knowing that you get tired after a little bit. he’s definitely more vocal than his brother, not afraid to let you know you’re making him feel good.

one thing they both have in common is when they give you a break by holding your hips and thrusting their own into you, fastening the pace and getting you even closer to your impending orgasm.

afterwards, stack will usually cuddle up with you and tell you sweet nothings. but being true to his name, smoke will sit up on the bed and smoke one of his pre-rolled cigarette. he’ll even let you light it, too.

[tojisteddy]

Just wanna talk about how Stack is a consistent “I’m gonna quit soon” smoker.

Like hes so used to second hand smoke from Elijah and rolling for him that the smell comforts him in a way. So when they’re apart for too long, Stack can’t help but smoke a cigarette on his own.

And then he continues smoking regularly, and it’s like some type of instinct in him when he gets back with his twin that he doesn’t need to do it so regularly anymore. But sometimes he’s more than stressed, and the tabacoo calms him down. Beating the negative with a worse negative, it became a habit on its own.

You warn him about smoking too much, the dangers of it, you’re just like your fuckin brother, you say, and he waves you off, he’s been through worse, seen worse. With a smirk on his lips, “Soon baby, it’s just the one.”

But never is. Just spaced out, he switches between a cigarette and toothpick— he needs something on his lips.

Maybe it’s why he loves kissing on you so much.

Your cheeks, your lips, your temple, your back, your neck, your hands,— even kisses on your hands when hes in the middle of a conversation, rubbing your fingers with his thumb as if he’s rubbing the kiss in like lotion.

You, right along with the cigarettes— are an addiction. He just can’t get enough of you.

a/n: just fucking yapping. This being my first time writing for Stack, woah.

[innorality]

But what about sub!smoke (and a littttle sub!stack)? Annie had that man pinned up and melting. And the spit scene with Stack was cute but it was really when ol’ girl pulled his head back and *melts*

oh you already KNOWWWW

cw // SPIT PLAY, hair pulling, cowgirl, jerking smoke off, gun play

an // stack + spitplay is my fav trope. ever.

smoke will never admit he's a sub. never in a million years. but the way his eyes roll back and his words melt into eachother when you jerk him off while he's pressed up against the wall? unmistakable.

don't get me wrong, he can and will dom, but when you reduce him into the puddle of pleasure that he currently is? he'll wrap his arms around your head tight and sob into the crook of your neck, hips twitching as he begs for you to slow down—for mercy.

"s-shit—darlin', you're goin' ham on m-me..." he'd stutter in a low voice, desperately gripping reality, but it swiftly slips out of his grasp when you roll your palm against his tip and giggle in his ear.

"you wanna cum for me, pretty boy?" and he nods, desperately sweating against you. his moans get louder and louder, shameless whines clouding your eardrums which only fuel your arousal.

"c'mon, sweets. know you can beg prettier than that." your voice, smooth as silk, making his knees buckle and her whimpers before obliging, finding difficulty in spreading his lips. "p-please–fuck... please let me cum... w'nna cum so fuckin'–shit—so fuckin' bad..." his eyebrows are knitted together in focus as he tries his very best to not cum right as you chuckle in his ear.

as for stack, he's way less shameful than his brother. he's always up for a good time, no matter who's on top.

did I mention you've got a gun pointed at his head?

unloaded, of course, but still enough to give him the thrill of danger and fuck, you're hot.

"fffuhh—baby–please, faster, c'mon–I'm begging-" words spill out of his mouth endlessly as you press the gun harder into his temple. "y-you talk too– fuckin'– much." you emphasized each word with a smash of your hips against his, making him jolt as his eyes roll back into his skull.

he drools, his mouth hanging open as endless whimpers jump out of between his lips at your every movement. you notice and bend your back to reach his level. "you're g'nna need that– back- baby.." and with that, you licked a stripe up the droplet of saliva he let out, which earned you a long, rich moan from his very core.

springing back up, your hand reached his cheek and you tapped on it twice, immediately pulling a reflex out of him as his jaw flexed and opened his mouth wider. you gathered all the spit you could inside your mouth and pressed your lips together, letting the long stream of saliva drip down onto his tongue.

his hips twitched at the feeling of your warm drool inside his mouth, and he immediately swallowed it all.

it's only when you grabbed onto his hair tugged it, inspected his mouth and uttered the words "such a good fuckin' boy..." that he unexpectedly finished inside you, strings of white, hot seed coating your walls.

[star-centric]

Saw sinners again last week and I love it even more 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

CW: time skip, movie spoilers!!! this was written with black gender neutral reader in mind but no specific descriptions of the reader are mentioned :) AU where reader got reincarnated

You were as beautiful as Stack remembered.

He never doubted how attractive you were, making yourself at home in his mind. He lost count of how many times Smoke knocked him in the back of the head to not be distracted— but how was he suppose to focus when you kept looking at him like that? Flashing that smile made him more weak than he wanted to admit, yet he still couldn’t get enough.

Even as the times changed, your beauty never faded. If anything time exemplified it— made it more refined. The glow of your skin, the pout of your lips, your body— everything. Decades later, you still got him riled up and you didn’t even know.

Mary caught his eye, but you’ve always lingered in the back of Stack’s mind— in both of their minds—never fading away.

So they choked when they saw you again.

He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. Him and Mary were there when his twin drove that stake into your chest. They saw you take your last breath along with Annie. How is it that he’s seeing you now? How are you still alive? Could the others be back too? Is Smoke here too? You couldn’t have turned after Mary bit you, but he was damn sure that this was you mixed in the sea of dancing bodies.

“That really is them, isn’t it?”

Mary called over the music, sliding her arm around Stack’s waist. Neither of them could tear their gaze away from you. Mary softly whispered your name, still in disbelief yet hopeful.

“Yeah, and ‘Ion know how, but we can figure that out later.” He narrowed his eyes, fighting the urge to go down and take you right then and there.

“We got a second chance Elias.” Mary whispered, sinking into Stack’s side, her eyes turning misty. “I don’t want to lose them again.” They had each other, but it still felt like a piece of them was missing. And now that they had their eyes locked on you, it was clear as to what would finally fill that void.

They both began to descend down the steps, eyes flickering as they sought to make their way through the crowd, their gaze never leaving you.

“I don’t plan on losing them again.”

[decayingearf]

when i think about stack, i think of him being real vocal during sex. no matter the position, if he can he’s kissing anywhere he can reach. “feels so fuckin’ good” he grunts kissing your neck as you ride him—chasing your own orgasm.

as if it wasn’t bad enough, stack’s burying himself deep into you.

“oh fuck” you moan out as he presses his forearm against your lower back bringing your breast close to his mouth ‘fore sucking on the nipple. along with him literally latching on your tit like a baby, he’s bucking his hips like crazy.

“mm—ride that dick, [𝜗𝜚]” he grumbled as his hand found its way to your ass, gripping and slapping. you bounce faster as he huffs. “take that shit” he speaks slapping your ass not hard enough to bruise but, hard enough to sting.

you keep riding as he groans gripping your hips, stack taps your hip signaling position change. he swiftly picks you up and flips you on your back, with him between your legs.

“i love bein’ in here” he says smugly before kissing your mouth, a sloppy kiss. soon enough the thrusting starts. he’s attacking your sweet spot repeatedly in hopes of you reaching your climax first.

because he’s sweet like that.

“you takin’ this shit good for me baby” he praises in your ear as he bottoms you out. “ngh fuck” you whine aloud as elias kisses your cheeks “cum on this dick, [𝜗𝜚]” he encourages as he buries his load deep in your womb.

your walls clench around his throbbing dick causing your body to stutter as you reach your climax. “there it go” he says deeply with a throaty chuckle before pulling out after a minute or two and holding you.

“i can clean it up if you want” stack says already making his way down between your legs.

oh lord.

[minaaaliyah]

Chapter One: The Line Between Lives

The smell of vanilla body spray and stage fog still clung to your hair when you slipped the key into your apartment door.

It was almost 3 a.m.

Ava had school in four hours.

You pushed the door open quietly, stepping out of heels and into the tiny, two-bedroom apartment that felt like both a haven and a trap. Bills stacked by the fridge. Laundry still damp in the machine. A tiny pink backpack leaning against the couch.

You dropped your bag and moved to check Ava’s room.

She was sprawled across her twin bed in a tangle of blankets, one arm hanging off the edge, her breathing slow and even.

You sighed, all the tension in your spine releasing at once.

She was okay.

You were halfway into your pajamas when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Stacks:U get home?

You smiled. He always texted like that—low effort, no punctuation, but you knew it meant he was thinking of you.

You:yeah. just checked on ava. she’s knocked out.

Three dots appeared, then vanished. Then reappeared.

Stacks:Wish u woulda let us drive u.

You:and wake her up just to explain why I’m pulling up with y’all? nah.

Another pause.

Then…

Stacks:fair.

You turned your screen face down and crawled into bed.

Mary had texted earlier too—sent a mirror selfie from the dressing room wearing that rhinestone set she knew you liked, followed by: “Next time, you’re wearing this. Don’t argue.”

You didn’t respond then. But now, curled under too-thin covers, you typed back.

You:maybe. if i don’t fall asleep in class.

Her heart reaction came in instantly.

In the dark, you looked toward the cracked ceiling and exhaled.

You lived in two separate worlds.

One where you were the quiet girl in nursing school, always with a hoodie and lip balm in your bag, juggling flashcards and grocery lists. And one where you were pressed between velvet and neon, letting Mary teach you how to move like your body belonged to the room. Where Stacks watched you like the world went quiet when you walked in.

They didn’t know Ava. And Ava didn’t know them.

That was the rule.

Your worlds could never meet.

The next morning, Ava sat at the kitchen table, swinging her legs while you scrambled eggs with one hand and held a textbook in the other.

“You smell like sparkles,” she mumbled, still half-asleep.

You froze. “Sparkles?”

She yawned. “Like… glitter lotion. Not bad though.”

You blinked, then smirked. “Maybe I dreamt I was a fairy.”

“You’re weird,” she grinned, stuffing toast into her mouth.

You plated her food and ran a hand over her braids. “Eat quick. I’ve got class and you’ve got school.”

Ava glanced up from her eggs. “Are you working again tonight?”

You hesitated. “Yeah. But I’ll be back before you wake up.”

Ava poked at her food. “You always say that.”

Your heart tugged.

“I’m doing this for us,” you said softly, crouching down to look her in the eye. “So we can have a place to live, food to eat, and maybe even new shoes next month.”

Ava’s eyes, way too grown for 8 years old, studied you. “I just want you.”

You swallowed hard.

“I know, baby.”

Later, on your break at the club, you sat in Stacks’ office eating cold fries and flipping through lab notes. The door creaked open, and Mary strolled in, wiping glitter from her neck.

“You look like a zombie,” she said, plopping onto the couch.

“Feel like one too.”

She tossed a hoodie at you—hers, soft and oversized. “Put that on. You’re shaking.”

You pulled it over your head and muttered, “Thanks.”

Stacks walked in behind her, a fresh blunt tucked behind his ear. He glanced between the two of you. “She eat?”

“She’s working on it,” Mary said. “Barely.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

“Lying,” they said at the same time.

You looked up at both of them—so different, but somehow in sync. Mary all fire and boldness. Stacks all quiet weight and steady gaze.

“I can’t afford to break down right now,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Not with Ava, and school, and rent…”

Stacks walked over and set a folded envelope on the table.

You stared at it.

“What is that?” you asked.

“Gas money. Grocery money. Whatever you need.”

“I didn’t ask for—”

“I know,” he said gently. “I’m giving it anyway.”

Mary leaned in. “Let us help, babe. You don’t gotta carry all this alone.”

You stared down at your hands. You wanted to say yes. But if you let them in too deep… they might want to meet Ava. And you weren’t ready.

Not yet.

That night, as Mary danced and Stacks counted the till, you stayed quiet.

You’d changed out of your stagewear and into leggings and an oversized hoodie, curled up on the worn velvet couch in the back room. The muffled thump of bass still pulsed through the walls, but your ears were ringing from exhaustion, not sound.

You stared at your phone screen: Ava had texted you.

Ava:Can you braid my hair in the morning? I don’t like when Maya does it. :(

Your throat tightened.

You weren’t there. Again. And every time you weren’t, she noticed.

Mary peeked in first, noticing the way you curled tighter into yourself.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

You shook your head before you even realized you were doing it.

“No.”

She came over, sitting at the edge of the couch. “What’s going on?”

Your voice cracked.

“I’m tired, Mare.”

Mary’s expression shifted instantly. She reached for your hand.

“I’m failing one class. Just one. But if I fail it, I have to repeat the whole semester. And I can’t afford that. Ava needs new shoes and her backpack’s tearing and I haven’t even had time to do her laundry and she asked me to braid her hair in the morning and—”

The words tumbled out like a dam breaking.

Stacks entered mid-spiral, holding two bottles of water. He took one look at you and set everything down without a word.

“I feel like I’m drowning,” you whispered.

Mary pulled you into her arms. “You don’t have to do all this alone.”

“I do, though,” you sobbed into her chest. “She’s all I have left. I can’t mess this up.”

Stacks sat beside you, his hand gently sliding along your thigh, grounding you.

“I didn’t get into this thinking I’d be a savior,” he said, voice low. “But I ain’t gonna stand here and watch you burn yourself out just to prove how strong you are.”

Mary pulled back just enough to hold your face in her hands.

“We love you,” she said, no hesitation. “Even when you don’t say much. Even when you shut us out. We see you.”

You looked between them, your chest still rising and falling too fast.

And then you broke, again—but this time into their arms.

Later that night, in the quiet hush of Stacks’ private suite upstairs, you lay between them — skin against skin, comfort thick in the air. The intimacy wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t flashy like the club lights. It was quiet, slow, and reverent.

Mary kissed your shoulder as she whispered, “Breathe, baby.”

Stacks’ hand spread over your stomach, pulling you closer. “Let us be a safe place. Just for tonight.”

No makeup. No costumes. No pretending.

Just you.

Tears still lingered at your lashes, but you didn’t feel ashamed anymore.

You felt seen. Held. Loved.

And for the first time in weeks… you slept.

Really slept.

The sun hadn’t even cracked the skyline when you eased out of bed.

Stacks’ arm had been heavy across your waist, his warmth grounding. Mary was curled into your side, breathing softly, her lips barely parted in sleep.

For a second, you didn’t want to move.

But your mind wouldn’t stop.

Ava.

You slipped from between them gently, slowly—like a ghost. You didn’t bother waking them. You couldn’t. You knew what they’d say.

“You’re not a burden.” “She’s part of us, too.” “Let us help.”

But this part of you—the one wrapped in messy ponytails and peanut butter toast, early cartoons and inside jokes—they didn’t know that side. Not yet. And you weren’t ready for them to.

So you grabbed your clothes, stuffed your heels in your bag, and disappeared into the gray-blue morning.

You got home just after 6 a.m., tiptoeing into the apartment like a thief.

Ava was still in bed, limbs sprawled like a starfish, her bonnet halfway off. You slid into the sheets beside her, burying your face into her back and inhaling that mix of kid shampoo and warmth that never failed to calm you.

She stirred. “You came back,” she mumbled.

“I never left,” you whispered.

Ava cracked one eye open. “Liar.”

You smiled. “Yeah. But I’m here now.”

She rolled over and wrapped her arms around your middle, hugging you tightly. “Can I stay home today?”

You hesitated. “Why?”

“‘Cause I miss you.”

Your throat tightened. You should say no. She’d already missed too many days this semester.

But you also knew that look in her eyes. You’d worn it once, too—when grownups chose everything else over you.

You tucked a curl behind her ear. “Yeah, baby. We’ll stay home today.”

By 10 a.m., the living room floor was covered in nail polish bottles, cereal crumbs, and throw pillows turned into a makeshift fort.

You’d painted Ava’s nails blue, let her do yours in alternating glitter and stars. You even let her try some eyeshadow on you—badly—and took selfies making kissy faces anyway.

When she asked for pancakes, you made them from scratch, laughing as she flipped one so badly it landed on the stove coil.

“Don’t tell anyone” she giggled.

“I won’t if you don’t,” you said, ruffling her hair.

The Kia keys stayed on the counter. Your textbook stayed shut. The world outside your apartment could wait.

Today, you belonged to Ava.

By afternoon, the two of you were cuddled under a blanket watching a rerun of That’s So Raven, her head on your chest, her fingers lazily playing with your hoodie string.

She looked up suddenly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Who’s Stacks?”

Your heart stuttered.

“…Where did you hear that name?”

“I saw it pop up on your phone once. You smiled when you read it. Then you put it face down real fast.”

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head. “You’re too nosy for 8.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

The question hung in the air like smoke.

You ran your hand down your face. “He’s… someone who takes care of me. And makes me feel safe. But it’s complicated.”

She sat up a little. “Is he nice?”

You thought of the way he held your waist, the way he touched you like you were breakable, sacred. You thought of the envelope of money he slid to you without asking for anything back. You thought of the way he hadn’t even stirred when you left that morning, trusting you’d come back.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “He’s nice.”

Ava yawned and leaned back into you. “I hope he stays around.”

That hit you somewhere deep.

You brushed your fingers over her forehead, gently rocking the both of you. “Me too, baby. Me too.”

That night, while Ava was in the bath singing to herself, you finally picked up your phone.

Stacks:You good? U left without a word. I been tryna give u space but don’t play me.

You hesitated… then typed.

You:I’m okay. Needed a day with Ava. I’m sorry for slipping out.

The typing bubble appeared.

Stacks:U don’t ever gotta apologize for being her sister. Just don’t shut us out.

Stacks:Mary been staring at the door like a puppy all day.

You smiled softly.

You:Tell her I miss her.Stacks:She already knows.

[prettyfilmz]

BACK OF THE CLUB • ELIAS S. MOORE

author's note: did this take me an entire month to finish and edit because I got hit with a major case of writer's block and had to drabble myself out of it? yes. but that's ok! it's been a minute since i've written something long so I hope y'all enjoy 🥹💗

synopsis: absence makes the heart grow fonder they say...when comes to elias and charlotte after 7 years of silence is the spark still there? or is this just a night of nostalgia?

pairing: elias 'stack' moore x black oc (charlotte belle)

warnings: 18+ (MDNI), modern au (set in the mid 1990s) some angsty themes, hints at religious trauma, flirty banter, established relationship, heartfelt confessions, closet sex, unprotected sex, lots of kissing, teasing, body worship, daddy kink, cunnilingus, hand job, missionary, sweet praise, clit play, riding, mating press, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, lots of dirty talk.

word count: 5.9k words

(songs to enhance your experience: back of the club - kwn , aeomg - coco jones)

Stack saw her before she saw him.

He always did.

Through a haze of liquor and bass speakers of the club him and Smoke recently purchased, where the air smelled of cologne, sweat, perfume, and marijuana, his eyes locked onto the silhouette near the back of the room. Poised, elegant, and haunting. 

His Lottie.

Her name had weight now. Charlotte Elise Belle : The world-renowned Poet. Her books blessed shelves across the world. Front page of Essence magazine, photographed on intimate balconies with timeless beauty and books that spoke like lullabies. Critics said her writing made people cry in languages they didn’t even know how to speak. That her words were soft, but heavy. Feminine, but untamed. Girls sent her letters about how her words healed wounds they didn’t know they carried.

He’d seen her on billboards with her face half turned, lips parted, a manicured nail poised beneath the title “Her Garden of Solitude” like she was about to silence the whole world with her pages. An NAACP Award nominee. Bestseller three times over. Her poems were everywhere now, whispered on lips that wondered who was the muse she scribbled with love, angst, and sultry incantations.

There was fire in her walk she shied away from seven years ago, confidence lining every step like she trained for the runway. Her once fidgety and buzzing nature bloomed into aura that was enchanting  and firmly claimed her femininity. She traded the bulky sweaters and ankle length skirts she used to hide her body in for a coral slip dress clung to her gently, not flashy, not loud, still authentically her but more mature. Her full lips painted with a deep berry color. Her doe eyes lined with kohl eyeliner and fluttery lashes. Her coily hair flowed just about near her mid-back which…god it suited her so well. Her body was even curvier than he remembered caressing in the latest of nights, her breasts more fuller and her ass had more jiggle, could make the holiest of man commit every sin if it meant getting a taste of what she had.

And grace. Lord, she moved with grace. Like the pain hadn’t stolen it,  the judgment hadn’t crushed it, and his absence hadn’t shriveled it up and tossed it behind her.

She hadn’t seen him yet.

Stack leaned back, drink sweating in his hand. Annie laughed nearby, brushing past him on her way to the bar, Smoke at her hip. Sammie and Pearline were on the dance floor somewhere. Lottie’s soft eyes flickered toward the floor then up again as she weaved through the crowd. Nervous, maybe but not scared. Not how she used to be. 

Not after what he did to her.

“Damn,” Stack muttered under his breath.

The blonde beside him curled a hand around his bicep. “You say somethin’, baby?”

He blinked. Barely registered her. Just set the drink down with a clink and stood up.

“Yeah. I'm gettin’ another round.”

He moved through the crowd like a slow storm, eyes locked, body drumming with anticipation. And when Lottie looked up and saw him—really saw him—her breath hitched in that way she always had when he was close. Her lips parted, her chin tilted stubborn, but he caught it…the ache, the longing, right there under her skin.

“Hi,” she said, voice soft yet steel like iron.

She didn’t hug him. Didn’t reach. Didn’t touch. Hell, she didn’t have to. He felt her touch through her intense stare with those big beautiful brown eyes he always got lost in.

“Hey, Lottie,” he said, low and rough, like her name lived under his tongue.

They stood like that a beat too long, taking each other in. Like they were trying to get used to seeing each other again after all the years that passed by.

Then he gestured toward the bar. “Can I get you somethin’?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “White wine. Nothin’ too heavy.”

He nodded, waved the bartender over. She perched on a stool beside him, legs crossed delicately, back straight, every movement elegant but not rigid. He watched her watch the room. It occurred to him then that she didn’t belong here. Not in the way others didn’t. She simply...transcended it.

“Didn’t see you at the openin’ last night,” he murmured, sliding her the glass.

She took it gently. “Wasn’t ready last night.”

He gave her a half smile. “What changed?”

“I got tired of hiding from ghosts.” She shrugs.

His chest ached. That definitely struck a nerve.

He sipped his glass of scotch slow. “You ain’t no ghost, Lottie.”

“True, but you were.”

The silence that fell between them hurt. It was thick and suffocating.

“I read your book,” he said finally, voice low.

Her lips parted, eyes flickering toward him. “Which one?”

“All of ‘em.”

Her laugh was soft and surprised. “You said you hated poetry.”

He leaned in, close, elbow brushing hers. “I didn’t hate it. It just didn’t have your soul in it before.”

Her smile was small, fragile even.

“I ain’t ever known anybody who wrote like that,” he continued. “Felt like you carved those pages outta my own fuckin’ chest.”

“I didn’t write it for you.” She states plainly.

“I know.”

“I just…knew if I didn’t release any of this pain, I’d never heal.”

His throat tightened.

She shifted, hands brushing down the smooth curve of her waist like she didn’t know what else to do with herself.  “My mama threw my writings in the fireplace,” she said after a moment. “Daddy tried sending the deacon to ‘pray the demons out of me.’”

Stack’s jaw clenched.

“I ain’t seen ‘em for a few years now,” she said quietly.  “Guess when your baby girl writes about cunnilingus and religious trauma, it don’t fit with the gospel of shame they taught me.”

Stack frowned, taking another sip from his glass allowing the burn to trickle down his throat. “You didn’t deserve none of that.”

“I needed it,” she said. “All of it. Losing you, the silence, the judgment, the isolation. It gave me the confidence to stop livin’ for other people and start livin’ for Charlotte.”

He nodded, proud of her but regretful in his part of her growth.

“You ever tell your family about us?” he asked quietly after a brief pause.

She tensed up, taking a generous sip of wine but nodded.

“After you left… I didn’t have a reason to hide anymore. They knew somethin’ was up anyways ‘cause I was cryin’ nonstop the first two weeks after you left. I ended up leavin’ the house a few weeks later. I just felt..suffocated. Like every time I walked through the door, I could hear their voices…not talking, just judging me and lookin’ at me like I was damaged goods. And telling me who I was supposed to be, what loving you meant, and what God would think.”

He said nothing.  

Lottie took a slow breath. “They said it was God’s will that you left. That your kind of man only brings ruin and I should be grateful I was spared.”

“My kind of man,” he echoed, bitter.

She took another sip of wine. “They meant the man who fucked me on a picnic blanket mid-day near the bayou and came inside me in his busted ass buick before even making me his girl. That kind.”

Stack choked on his drink, not expecting the vulgarity out of her. 

“You were mine,” he said, his voice hushed and raw.

“No. You fucked me and then left me,” she cuts him off, pointing a finger at him. “That’s not a proclamation of love, that’s a fling with a timestamp.”

“I had to leave.” He argued.

“No, you didn’t,” She snapped. “You wanted to.”

Stack exhaled. “I wanted to keep you safe. Away from the shit me and Smoke were drownin’ in.”

“You should’ve let me choose that.” Her eyes narrowed, pierced right through him.

“And then what?” he asked, tone sharp, but low. “You get caught up in mob shit, end up bleedin’ in a trunk some night in Chicago ‘cause I wanted to feel loved? Nah, I’d rather be the villain than the reason you bled out.”

She leaned closer now, barely a breath away. Taking in the warmth of his cologne that haunted her for years. Her voice turned cold with fury laced in heartbreak. “I’d rather bleed beside you than ache in a room full of people who only love the molded idea of me.”

That shut him up.

Lottie traced the rim of her glass, then continued. “Anyway, I left their house. Annie helped me out with some jobs and I got my own place. Started reading everything I was never allowed to read, wore what I wanted, wrote what I wanted and I stopped asking for forgiveness for loving you.”

His jaw clenched. “Lottie-”

“Don’t interrupt me.”

He closed his mouth.

“I found my own rhythm but it didn’t come from them. And it damn sure didn’t come from you either. You leavin’…it hurt me so bad I thought I was dyin’ from a broken beart. But it cracked me open and I gained a spine from it. I found my freedom.” Her voice didn’t raise, It was calm, measured, still kind.

He watched her, awe carved into the lines of his face.

“I ain’t surprised,” he said.

She looked up.

“You always had that strength in you, Lottie. You was just scared to embrace it.”

“No. I had love. You just didn’t believe you were worth basking in it.”

That hit him harder than any bullet could. She always knew how to see through him like he was made of glass.

“I believed you were too good for the world I was walkin’ into,” he confessed.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me.”

“I see that now.”

She didn’t respond. Didn’t have to. 

He finished the last of his drink and placed his glass down again. “Dance with me?”

Lottie hesitated, then stood determined. “Only if you hold me right.”

He nodded. “Always will.”

Stack pulled her in. Slow. Soft. The music was fitting perfectly for their vibe, Sade being spun by the DJ this time. Her fingers slid over his shoulders. His arms wrapped around her waist, strong and sure, and the moment she laid her cheek against his chest, something inside him cracked.

He pressed a soft kiss to her hair.

“I saw your tattoo,” she whispered against his chest. “The one inside your forearm.”

“You like it?”

“It’s my name. You don’t think that’s a little…”

“Permanent?”

She looked up. “Stupid.”

“I got the flower too,” he said, smiling boyishly. “Hibiscus. ’Cause I remember how much you loved ‘em. You always said roses are too cliche.”

She looked down, her voice caught in her throat. “You remembered that?”

“I remember everything’.”

They moved slow, her body molded to his but still holding back, like her soul wasn’t sure whether to run or be reborn. They were silent again. As the song played on, she sighed into his shoulder.

“I missed you, Elias,” she whispered.

“I missed you too, Lottie. More than you can imagine.”

“Still flirtin’ with them white girls, huh?”

 “Ain’t none of em’ ever made me feel like a goddamn boy again. The only woman I want got her name on my skin.”

Her lip trembled, but she smirked. “And I thought I was the poetic one.”

He chuckled. Then, quietly he says “I loved ya, even back then.”

“You never said it.”

He nodded. “’Cause it scared the hell outta me.”

She looked up. “Why?”

“Because when we had our time together, sex or not you always looked at me like I was something sacred to keep. And I ain’t never been that. Not once…and I knew I’d ruin it.”

Her cheeks flushed. Her voice was still soft but steady.

“Yeah?” She said, ”And yet you still had the nerve to lick the blood off my pussy after you popped my cherry in your car that night on Valentine’s Day.”

His body tensed, eyes darkening and teeth clenching as if he was automatically transferred back to that moment remembering her moans, her taste, her touch, the feeling….

“Lottie..”

“Lottie, what?” her voice laced in a sarcastic tone. “You can’t rewrite history like that shit ain’t happen.” She stared up at him, voice quiet but sharp enough to slice him raw.

His grip found her hip, a firm warning. “You sayin’ shit like that’s gon’ get you-”

A soft smirk played on her full glossed lips. “Get me what, Stack? got a problem? fix it.”

And with that, she broke away from his hold, walking with an extra sway in her hips exhibiting temptation. She didn’t have to look back to know he was following her trail.

♡

The door clicked shut behind them softly.

Cool air in the closet kissed Lottie’s flushed skin. The hum of music outside was muffled by thick walls and the thudding of her heart. Her back was to him. 

Stack stood behind her with his hands at his sides, breath heavy.  The space between them was fragile, like a wand bubble too full to last in the air. 

“I ain’t ever been good with words,” he said softly. “Not like you.”

She turned then. Slowly. Her chest rose and fell fast, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. She looked up at him with those big, beautiful brown eyes. “You didn’t have to be good with ‘em. You just had to use ‘em.”

He stepped forward, cautiously to see if she would back up..but she didn’t. She instead moved towards him, closing the gap between them. 

“I love you.” He breathed, the words held a weight on his heart for seven long years.

The pause after was heavy, her hands flattening against his chest like she needed to hold the words still between them as if they were going to disappear.

 He leaned in, kissed her forehead, then her nose. “I never stopped.”

“I needed you to say it back then,” she murmured.

“I know.” His voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”

“I hated you for so long.” She sighed, a single tear falling down her face which Stack gently wiped away from her cheek with his thumb. 

“You got every right to,” he murmured. “You never looked at me like I was wrong—even if I was—you always looked at me like I was someone worth lovin’ and…fuck Lottie I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Lottie lifted her hand to place against his cheek, prompting him to turn his head and lay a gentle kiss on her palm.

“You’re still it for me,” he said. “You always were. Even when I was drownin’ in my demons, gettin’ my hands bloody, even when I was fuckin’ around just to feel anythin’ but empty…I’d see your name in a bookstore or your beautiful face on a billboard and it’s like my whole world goes quiet and calm.”

Her lip trembled as she took every single word into her soul. As much as she wanted to believe he was bullshitting, just saying things just to say. The way he gazed at her like she held the sun, moon and all constellations in the sky made her heart flip. 

“You know…I wrote those poems for myself.” she whispered. “But a part of me really wanted you to read them.”

Stack brushed a few wild curls away from her face. “Once I found your books, I keep readin’ em’ over and over. Whatever place Smoke and I ended up in, I’d sit and read. It’d help me sleep.”

“If I known that I would’ve sent you an autographed copy.” she dryly joked. “Shouldn’t have made me suffer in silence. You either.”

“I didn’t think I deserved a woman like you.” 

“Then be the man who does.”

His lips parted, but no words came out. 

Her hand left his cheek to slide down to his forearm, fingers trailing the brown skin until it met the ink that decorated it. His sleeve was rolled up enough for her to see its full design. Her name—Charlotte— carved in delicate cursive with a blooming hibiscus twined through each letter. The petals shaded in vibrant pink and red hues that he remembered she loved best. 

She traced over the tattoo softly with her fingers.

“When’d you get this?” she asked.

“Six months after I left,” he murmured. “I couldn’t get you out of my head. Needed a reason to keep goin’.”

She sniffled a little.

“You not leavin’ again?” she asked, silently praying this wasn’t a single night of nostalgia.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere Lottie.” Stack took her hands into his, squeezing in reassurance.

“Promise?” she pressed, voice cracking.

“Wherever you go, I go.” His voice filled with emotion as he pulled her close, lips a few breaths apart from hers.

She let out a shaky breath as her body melted into his. Their lips met soft and delicate. His kiss poured all the words he left unsaid for seven years and Lottie didn’t dare pull away. Her hands slid up into his short, slicked back curls, fingers tugging gently earning a few quiet groans from him which sent a throb in between her legs as his lips deepened against hers, slow and coaxing. He kissed her like he was eager to relearn every inch of her mouth, tongue tracing hers, exploring the taste he deprived himself of for too long. 

Her breath hitched every time he pressed himself closer to her body, his hand ghosting the curve of her waist, sliding over her hips to grip her thigh.

She gasped into his mouth when he lifted her.

“Elias..” she murmured against his lips.

“I got you,” he whispered, something told her that statement had several meanings…all which made her heart warm.

He pressed Lottie carefully against the closet wall, the coolness from the heat combined with heat of his body on hers felt almost erotic. Her legs were cradling his hips all while Stack kissed her neck. Every brush of his warm, wet lips against her neck, every nip and gentle suck against her pulse point brought back memories her body stored. Lottie tilted her head back, lashes fluttering, every breath she took was shaky between her full parted lips as he licked the spot beneath her ear that made her whimper even years later.

“I’m surprised you remember that.” she whispered.

“I told you I remember everything about you, baby.” Stack mused. His hands slid underneath her dress, warm against the back of her curvy thighs, trailing higher where her thighs met her ass. 

“No fair…you’re teasin’.” She moaned as his palms kneaded her flesh.

“Ain’t no fun without a lil’ teasin’” he chuckles, kissing her pouting lips. He gave her ass a firm squeeze and a sharp smack that made her squeak, and his grin widened against her lips.

“You still mad at me?” Stack murmured, kissing under her ear, letting his lips linger on the sensitive skin.

“Maybe.” Lottie’s breath hitched when she felt his teeth nibble on her lobe.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I should make up for that, huh?” His tongue traced the curve of her throat, his teeth scraping gentle against the skin under her jaw before placing wet, open mouthed kisses there. 

She let out a hum of agreement, tilting her head back to give him more access. He didn’t rush when he slid his hands under her dress. He took his time pushing it up, revealing smooth thick thighs that trembled slightly. He dropped to his knees. Kissed her belly, then the sensitive spot on her hip, and hooked his fingers into her lace panties.

“Can I see her, baby?” he whispered. Lottie complied, resting one leg on the shelf nearby and the other on his shoulder, letting him pull her panties down and off, her thighs parting on instinct. 

He stared in awe. She was glistening. A small but neatly trimmed triangle of dark curls framed the mound of her swollen pussy. He saw the twitch of her heat and the slow throb of her clit peeking out between the puffy lips of dark pink.

“Damn, Lottie…”

She tried to close her legs in embarrassment but he was quicker than her, hands holding her thighs apart firmly. 

“You wet like that from kissin’ me, hm?” he teased, lips ghosting over her inner thighs.

“I-Shut up..”

He chuckled knowingly, grabbing her ass to pull her forward until her back arched off the wall. 

“Don’t hide her from me,” he murmured. “You know I love this pussy..I missed her.”

She gasped as he leaned in, burying his face in between her thighs. One of her hands flying to the wall and the other clinging to his hair. He didn’t go straight for her pussy. He teased her inner thighs with slow, wet kisses, nuzzling her folds with his nose, dragging his lips up her mound and down again. When he blew cool air over her clit, she shivered.

“Eliaaas,” she whined. “You’re teasing..”

“You said I owed you,” he smirked. “This how I pay my debts.”

Stack’s tongue traced her slit slowly, teasing the sensitive flesh before flattening against her clit in slow and greedy circles.

“O-oh, god…”

He moaned against her, tongue working her open, mouth sucking on her clit not too hard but not too soft..just the way she liked it, lips locking around it while his tongue flicked back and forth.

“Mmmnh! E-El-Elias…oh-“

“I missed this lil’ button,” he said with a wicked grin, tongue flicking right over her clit, then down again. “She so fuckin’ pretty… always so damn sweet for me.”

Her thighs shook. She arched into his face.

His voice was filthy now, soaked in lust.  “You always liked it when I talked to her, huh? She likes it too. She pulsin’ on my tongue, baby. She know who I am.”

He used two fingers to spread her open, licking deeper now, tongue darting in and out of her hole before flicking up to her clit again, stroking slow circles. She rolled her hips into his face, crying out softly with every pass of his tongue.

She cried out, the sound raw and needy, hips jerking against his mouth. “Fuuuuck, baby, don’t stop—don’t stop—”

“Not stoppin’ till you cum all over my fuckin’ face,” he growled, tongue and fingers moving faster.  “Let her give it to me, come on, baby girl, let it go.”

And she did.

Her body tensed, thighs clenching around his head, pussy spasming around his fingers. She moaned his name in a high-pitched cry, eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm rolled through her like a wave, long and hard and aching. He held her steady through it, fingers still pumping in and out of her pussy. He lapped at her, slow and deliberate now, sucking and kissing the oversensitive flesh until she whimpered and pulled back.

“Too much,” she pants tapping his shoulder, voice shaking.  “Oh god too much…”

He pulled back, lips and chin glistening, looking drunk on her.

“I ain’t even started yet,” he murmured, licking his lips, standing back up to full height.

He kissed her again, allowing her to taste herself on his tongue, and she whimpered into him. 

He pulled her dress off completely, tossed it to the floor next to her clutch and took a slow, full step back.

“Lemme see you, Lottie.”

She stood in front of him, completely bare, brown honey skin glowing under the closet’s dim overhead light. Her breasts full and soft, nipples dark and hardened peaks. 

He reached out, ran his fingers down her torso.

“You so fuckin’ beautiful,” he breathed, thumbs brushing over her nipples. “Shit…I shoulda worshipped you better back then.”

He bent his head, kissing along her throat, her collarbone, down to her breasts. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, circled it with his tongue, then bit down just enough to make her gasp.

She grabs his shirt at the hem, helping him pull it over his head.

Then she kissed his chest. His neck. His jaw. Soft little nips and whispers of her breath across his skin. Her hands unbuckled his belt, undid his pants, pushed them down until he was bare, his shaft was heavy, thick and hard, standing proudly between them.

Her eyes dropped and her breath hitched.

“I forgot how big you were,” she whispered, prompting a smirk to appear on his lips.

“Still yours,” he said. He took her hand and wrapped it around him. “Still remember what to do with it, baby?”

She stroked him slowly,her hand barely able to wrap around him fully, thumb circling the slit at the tip where precum beaded, eyes locked to his.

“Like this?” she asked, voice sugary sweet, tone soft but knowing.

He groaned, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “Fuuuck, baby…”

“You look like you missed me.”

“I did.”

She pumped him slower, watching his jaw clench.

“I think you should say it.”

“I missed you,” he breathed. “I missed this hand, this mouth, this pussy—fuck, baby, I missed everything…”

“I think you should prove it..” she purred, her hand leaving his length to bring up to his view, her fingers shining with precum that she eased into her mouth while keeping eye contact with him. 

Stack growled, picking her up with ease earning a gasp from Lottie  and laid her on the bench against the wall. He stroked himself once, lining up with her soaked entrance with the head. 

“You still my sweet lil’ Lottie?” he asked, lips ghosting down her neck, warm lips dragging along the line of her jaw, lightly tapping the head of his cock on her clit. 

She whimpered, legs wrapping around his waist. “You know I am.”

He took that as an invitation to push in. 

The stretch was divine.

Lottie’s breath was caught sharp in her chest the moment she felt him sink inside. She reached for him instinctively, arms curling tight around his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into his brown skin, face buried in his neck as inch after inch filled her up. Her pussy fluttered, drawing him deeper with every soft gasp that escaped her lips.

“Mmmnnh fuck Elias…’s too much..” she whimpered and he shushed her gently.

“Shhh…just breathe, baby…I got you.” he whispered in her ear, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other gripping the plush meat of her thigh. He moved slow, letting her feel the full press of him, allowing her body to adjust. 

When he was buried to the hilt, pelvis flush against hers, he paused and exhaled. 

She was warm, slippery, and tight and so damn soft. Like her pussy spent the last seven years waiting to mold perfectly back around for him. Her walls fluttered, squeezing him in slow little pulses that made his jaw lock.

“Damn,” he groaned into her neck. “You still tight like you ain’t let nobody else in here.”

“s’cause I didn’t..” She blinked up at him, flushed and panting.

He froze, throbbing inside her.

“You bein’ serious?”

Her fingers trailed up the back of his neck, nails softly brushing against the small curls there.

“You’re the only man that ever touched me, Elias…the only one.” She whispered.

That struck something vulnerable in him.

Stack kissed her hard, lips crushing, open mouthed, tongues entangling as he started to move. He started with long, deep strokes at first, the drag of him inside her was slow and greedy, savoring in the way Lottie’s pussy clung to him like a vice. Her nails dug into his back, the stretch still intense, toeing the line between pleasure and pressure but it was perfect.

“Mmm..Mmmnnh—fuck..” she gasped, head lolling back. “God you feel so good.”

He grunted, pulling both her thighs over his shoulders, thrusting deeper to hit those sensitive spots at a different angle. “Look at you,” he rasped, brown eyes trained on her face, the way she shivered and moaned underneath him. “You so pretty like this...that’s my good girl.”

“‘m your good girl.” she whimpered back, voice shaky.

“That’s right. My sweet lil Lottie.”

Her pussy clenched and his breath got caught in his throat.

“Yeah?” he murmured, hips grinding slow and tight. “Still like when daddy calls you that, hm?”

“Y-yes…” she moaned soft and high, choked by the pleasure blooming hot between her thighs, her hands on his shoulders, rolling her hips to meet his thrusts. “I love it.”

“Rub that button for me, baby.” he instructed her. “Give her some love.”

Lottie placed a hand in between her legs, rubbing tight, quick circles on her clit, just the way he used to teach her. She moaned high and sweet as she came for him again, Stack kissing her through her orgasm.

“Let me see you ride it, baby.” he growled, pulling out and sat on the bench with his thighs spread. 

“C’mere, mama.”

Lottie climbed into his lap, knees bracketing his hips, her thighs trembling with anticipation. She reached between them and guided his cock back to her soaked entrance, rubbing the thick head against her clit at first, teasing herself with little circles until Stack grunted and grabbed her hips. 

“Teasin’ ass.”

She smiled knowingly, and then she sank down on him slow, eyes fluttering as she took all of him. 

“Ohhh…fuck…” she moaned, bottoming out, thighs tensing around him. 

Stack’s head fell back against the wall, jaw clenched. “That’s it,” he groaned, gripping her ass, guiding her up and down his length. “Bounce on it, baby. ’s all yours.”

She rolled her hips, beginning to ride him slow at first then picking up the pace. Her body moving like a slow dance, glistening under the closet light. Her breasts bounced with roll of her hips, he reached up to cup them in his large hands, fingers pinching her nipples lightly. Her hands braced his shoulders and he watched her like she was straight out of his favorite dream. Lips parted, eyes glazed over with lust, lashes fluttering against the tops of her cheeks, her signature scent of orange blossom, vanilla marshmallow and a hint of amber flooding his senses. Her pussy was soaked, dripping down over his thighs, making slick and obscene sounds as she moved. 

“You been practicin’?” he teased, hands sliding over her ass to squeeze.

She moaned, a little laugh escaping in the process. “N-no…just remember what you like.”

He laid a sharp smack to her ass, prompting her to cry out and bounce harder. 

“I like all of you, baby girl.” he leaned up to catch a nipple between his lips, suckling on the swollen nub until she gasped. “Every inch. Every moan. Every fuckin’ part of you.”

He gripped her hips tightly, beginning to thrust up into her as she dropped down, slamming into that sweet spot inside her over and over. Her moans turned into cries, breathy little sobs of pleasure.

“You sound so pretty, Lottie.” Stack growled. “You love daddy’s dick, don’t you?”

“Y-yes yes, baby…’s so good.” Lottie keened, head falling against his neck pressing wet kisses to his throat. He kissed her jaw, then lowered his lips to her collarbone, tongue flicking in between the valley of her breasts.

“Gon’ cum again for me, baby?” he panted, watching as her face twisted up into that beautiful, broken expression.

“Mhm..mhm-oh God yes! Please please don’t stop-“ she babbled senselessly.

He reached in between them to rub fast little circles over her swollen clit with his thumb, her thighs locking up. 

“I got you, baby.” he promised. “Cum for me. Let go.”

And just like that, her body shook. She moaned, loud and high pitched and ragged, thighs shaking as her orgasm hit. Her pussy gushed between them, soaking his lap and drenching his thighs. He caught her mouth in a sloppy kiss, hands rubbing her back while she sobbed softly into his neck. 

“That’s it, baby.” he praised softly. “Did so good for me.”

He moved again, flipping her gently, laying her back across the bench now, folding her thighs to her chest and slid back into her in one fluid motion, groaning at the feel. He started to fuck her slow, hard, deep, each thrust making her cry out, overstimulated and limp underneath him, tears sliding down her cheeks from the corners of her eyes,

“I know, baby…I know it’s a lot,” he cooed, kissing her jaw, her cheek, her lips. “But I need it. I need you one more time okay?”

He pulled all the way out, leaving only the tip inside, then slid back in slowly, dragging a moan from her throat. Then again, faster this time. He pounded into her now, whispering filth against her lips.

“Look at this pussy…she suckin’ me in like she missed me.”

“You milkin’ me girl goddamn..”

“Used to dream about the fuckin’ pussy baby.”

She was a mess now, drooling, sobbing, her words slurring. Lottie bit into his shoulder, nails raking down his back, and every moan she let out made his balls tighten.

“You gon’ give daddy one more?” Stack cooed into her ear, pressing his thumb against her clit.

She nodded frantically, feeling another orgasm burn through her core. “Y-yes! I-i’m close-“

“Give it to me, Lottie. Let her sing for me, baby.”

She sobbed, pressing her forehead to his, lips trembling as she came for the final time. He kissed her hard, tongue claiming her mouth as she milked him.

“I love you, Charlotte.” he moaned. “Always fuckin’ loved you.”

She whimpered, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders. “I love you too,” she sobbed. “Don’t stop..don’t stop baby.”

“Shhh…” Stack soothed her pleas, fucking up into her in a steady gentle rhythm helping her ride out the aftershocks, now chasing his own edge. “You take me so good baby. You feel so good…I’m gonna…fuck-“

His head dropped to her shoulder. He groaned loudly against her damp skin, shooting warm thick ropes inside her with a few airy moans, cock pulsing as he filled her up.

They stayed still for a moment, skin to skin, the sounds of their heavy pants filling the closet. She peppered soft kisses to his temples, his eyes fluttering closed as he let her ground him back to reality.

“So…still think you don’t deserve me?” she asks after fully catching her breath.

He chuckled, still breathless. “You were always too good for me, Lottie. I’m just still glad you wanted me anyway.”

Her fingers threaded through his curls. “I never stopped…even when I was cursing your name.”

He lifted his head to fully look at her, eyes all round and soft, twinkling with love. He pressed a few soft pecks to her lips and brushed her now messy curls from her glowy face.

They remained in their little bubble of oblivion until they heard three hard knocks on the closet door, causing them to jump.

“Y’all better be decent in 15 minutes before I spray your nasty asses down with this fucking lysol.” Smoke boomed from outside the door. “This ain’t the type of establishment you were advertisin’ to me when we bought this joint, Stack. It was nice seein’ you Lottie…”

The couple remained quiet until they heard his heavy footsteps walking away to break out into a short fit of laughter.

“You think he heard?” Lottie managed to say in between giggles.

“Yeah,” Stack groaned. “He gon’ be on my ass about that.”

She leaned into him again, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Worth it?”

He looked down at her, seeing her eyes glimmer the way he remembered. “Yeah,” he said with a smile, show casing the gold of his grills. “One hundred percent.”

taglist: @cafeluvs @cremeful @mirathebookworm @a4g3lstarfire @monstaxmomma80 @bl3ssyn @thecoloredpages @dumb-b4mbi @spiicii @wrestlingprincess80 @transparentphantomface @pinkkycherrish @groovytidalwavevoid  @sug3rco0k1es @girlstowomen @zillasvilla @lexiis26 @ami-sk @loveabledovee @sajoi @ultralspblr @aurelover @christinabae 

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

[phantazene]

Lowering the Twins’ age and making Annie your oc’s mom is so corny and foul.

Do not do that.

[chromehoney]

Hey really like your writing and I was wondering if could do more smoke and stack black!fem!curvy/plusize!reader. I do think this will go well with the nerdy/girl next door or the independent baddie type of reader. But you make her personality and lifestyle whatever you want.

aweee thank youu!!! and ofcccc , this is a little rushed since i just wanted to get atleast one request done today so excuse errors!!!

You was tired. Tired of them twins—Smoke and Stack—playing in your face like they didn’t want you. Like they ain’t watch your ass in every room, talk about “that damn dress,” whisper in your ear at family functions, make you cream off one look. They’d tease, flirt, touch your thigh in the truck, but never make a real move. And the second you put a little distance? Act like they owned you.

So tonight, you said fuck it.

Your thick ass was outside at one of your friends parties in a strapless bodycon that gripped every roll and dip like sin itself. Soft pink, and made to make a man stutter. You had on lashes that batted without tryin’, nails long and wicked, diamond studs shining through your wild curly hair as you laughed with your girls. You posted a story before you left the house, of a picture you took of your body in your long vertical body mirror, the dress was thin so the picture got the outlines of your tits and your nipples were poking out, and the picture also showed a lil’ hip. You weren’t playin’ shy no more.

That was until your phone buzzed in your purse.

SMOKE: Bring yo’ ass home.

STACK: Before we come find you.

Your heart jumped.

You swallowed thick. Laughed a little too hard, trying to play it off—until you caught sight of him. Trey. One of Smoke and Stack’s old running buddies. Standing across the bar like he ain’t have a damn drink, arms crossed, eyes on you. No smile. Just watchin’. Close enough to move if needed. That’s when you knew. They had eyes. Ears. Everywhere . Shit, they probably knew what color your panties were before you left the house.

You snatched your keys. Whispered to your girls, “I gotta go. Emergency.” They looked confused, but you didn’t stop to explain. Just shuffled fast in those heels, heart pounding, thighs rubbing, heat blooming between them before you even made it to your car. The house was dark as hell when your car pulled up.

But the porch light was on.

They was waiting. Smoke leaning against the railing, Stack sitting back in the chair beside him, both passing a fat joint between calloused fingers. Lazy, country, smug as hell. They wore black tees that clung to muscle, jeans sitting low, boots tapping against the wood.

You stepped out the car slow.

Their eyes dragged down your body like rough hands. That damn dress clung to your ass like it was made to sin. Stack’s jaw clenched. Smoke exhaled smoke through his nose, eyes low and hot. “Didn’t we say bring yo’ ass home?” Stack muttered, voice thick like molasses and thunder.

“She was tryna show out,” Smoke said, barely glancing at his brother, like he couldn’t take his eyes off you. “Look at her. Lil’ dress tight as hell. Like she want somebody to rip it off.”

“You mad?” you asked, head cocked, lips pursed—trying to keep your bratty edge, even while your thighs pressed tight. “No,” Stack stood up, slow and towering, licking his lips. “We done bein’ mad.” “We done playin’, too,” Smoke added. You ain’t get another word out before you were pushed back against the front door, that joint flicked into the grass.

Four hands. Rough, greedy, mean.

Smoke grabbed your chin and made you look up. “You think you grown, huh? Think you can tease us? Walk around in that lil’ dress and not get fucked like we hate you for it?”

Stack was already behind you, hand fisting the hem of that tight fabric. “You made us chase you. Made us watch you postin’ pics like you single.” “I am—” His hand cracked across your ass. “Say it again.”You whimpered. “I ain’t!…” “Damn right,” Smoke growled, dragging his tongue down your cleavage. “You ours. Say it.”

“Y-Yours—”

And then they was on you. Everywhere. Clothes ripped, dress yanked, lips bitten, thighs pinned wide against the door. You were lifted, filled, devoured. One held your wrists while the other fucked you deeper than breaths. Their mouths left marks on your tits, your throat, your soul. Each thrust came with a growl, a curse, a whisper about how they should’ve claimed you sooner. You cried and came, then cried some more—smeared and swollen, your lip gloss gone and your sass unraveling like lace.

They fucked you like they hated you. But kissed you like they owned you. And when it was over—your body limp and slick in their arms, breath shallow—Smoke played with your curls as he fixed his mouth to speak. “We done playin’, baby.

Stack kissed your neck, slow and possessive. “Time to settle the fuck down.“ You blinked up at them. Mascara running. Cheeks flushed. And all you could do was nod. Because deep down… You knew you weren’t going nowhere ever again.

@cursed-carmine for the dividers!

btw , i got alllll yalls requests done! i’m surprised but i did it. so imma drop em in bulk , another one should be coming out either later on today to tomorrow .. depending on how im feeling!! after they all drop imma give myself a few daysss to rest from writing before i start a new fic.. ‘m thinking maybe annie x fem reader ??? andddd there’s also gone be a new series comin’ out so stay tuned for that.