ultralspblr

[ultralspblr]

i'm so tender on you - stack m. x fem!reader

summary: the smokestack twins left mississippi for bigger and better things, they were big fishes in a small pond, but that doesn't negate the sting you felt when stack, your boyfriend, left town without a uttering a word about it to you. not even call nor a letter to let you know he was safe in the big city of chicago. rumors on the streets about the twins return bubbled over - they were hosting a cookout and the whole neighborhood was invited - including you.

word count: 8k

warnings: smut, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex, slight mentions of cheating, slight toxic dynamics, slight mentions of drugs, set in the 90s, light mary slander (lmaoo)

author's note: ahahaa i had a lot of fun writing this ya'll omg, this one is pretty long i just couldn't help myself!! thanks for reading ya'll much appreciated <3

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The faint sounds of Saturday morning cartoons muffled within the background of your room; it was hot today - unbearably so, and it killed you that the AC in your bedroom was busted. Your grandpa said he'd get it fix, urging you not to waste your money on a new one. One thing about your grandad - he was a staunch penny pincher - always claiming he could fix something. Stating that your generation couldn't keep money in their pockets if their life depended on it. Always splurging on unnecessary 'foolishness'. But it seemed like every time he would tinker with your AC the worse it got.

You were gonna go out and buy one today, preparing for a long winded lecture - but you'd rather hear his complaints than sitting in a hot ass house. Your niece, who was only eight years old, sat on the floor at the foot of your bed. Her brown eyes watched the cartoon in front of her intensely, Tom and Jerry was her favorite - and the only cartoon you'd tolerate watching with her. You just got done doing her hair, the twist were held in place with pink Bobos with white and pink butterfly barrettes at end of the twist.

You were glad to be done with her hair - the girl was tender headed and it felt like you were entering a boxing match every time you attempted to comb and brush through her thick tresses. You hunched over on the bed, painting your toe nails with your favorite red nail polish from your local beauty supply and your head rested on the phone that was between your shoulder and ear - listening to your best friend, Pearline, on the other side of the phone.

She wanted you to go to a kickback with her; she was messing with Sammie aka Preacher Boy who lived around the block from you. She would gush about him saying that he was the sweetest man she'd ever been with - not to mention he had the best head - telling you stories about how good he would eat her out. You would spit out a: "Girl!" every time she would share a little too much, but you were happy for her - maybe a tad bit jealous too.

You didn't want Sammie - he was like a little brother to you; it was his older cousin that made your heart race. You and Stack had a thing in the past, the relationship was heavy, intense, and passionate. You genuinely thought that he could be the one, but out of the blue he left Mississippi - with his twin brother in tow - without uttering a word about it to you. And to makes matters worse the week that he up and ghosted you found out he was fucking another girl on the side.

Mary.

You were heart broken, blowing up his pager in hopes to get some sort of answers from him - but he ignored you like the plague. Which meant you two were done.

"Who all gone be there?" You asked Pearline, careful hands slowly painted your big toe with cherry nail polish.

"Everybody, that's why you should come - it'll be fun!" She replied, you could tell she was hiding something from you.

"Who is everybody?"

A pause lingered onto the conversation, which earned an eye roll from you.

Of course...He'd be there.

News spread like wild fire around the neighborhood about the twins coming back home; you couldn't avoid the whispers about them. You were cool with Smoke - even though he kept to himself and was hard to read, but you knew he was a genuine man that held good morals within his heart.

But Stack?

He was a trifling ass man who only looked out for himself - though you did admire his fierce loyalty he had for his brother and little cousin, Sammie. But you wished that his loyalty extended towards you.

"I'm not goin', sorry sis. You have fun, though." You said cutting through the tension between you and Pearline - which made her sigh in annoyance.

"You not even gonna see him, I doubt he'd be there."

"Isn't the party at Smoke's place? You think his twin brother ain't gonna be there? Please, Stack follows Smoke around like his damn shadow." You shot back in a matter of fact tone. She couldn't argue against you about it - you were right.

If you saw one twin, the other was close by.

"Please, please come with me! I know you're still raw about it--"

"You goddamn right I'm still raw. Pearline, he left me without giving me the courtesy of tellin' me and on top of that, after everything I did for his sorry ass, he went and fucked that bitch Mary!" You shouted, cutting your friend off in the middle of her sentence.

"Swear words." Your baby niece chimed in, ear hustling the conversation you had on the phone, she couldn't understand what you were talking about due to her age, but you gave her a light mean mug - not serious enough to hurt her feelings.

"You stay outta grown folks business, watch the show or Imma kick you out my room." You reprimanded which made the girl turn her attention back onto the cartoon. A chuckle hit your ear again, Pearline's light laughter made you playfully roll your eyes.

"Look, sis. I get it - I do. But I know you don't wanna be sittin' in that hot ass house sad all night. Come out with me! Enjoy some good food, music, 'allat stuff. Fuck him, don't let him ruin your mood," she then paused as and you could tell she was smiling from ear to ear. "And some fine ass men will be there - single. It's about time you broke that dry spell."

You thought about the words she said and you thought about the pros and cons of going to the party. The pros: free booze, free bud, good music, great food, seeing friends, and potentially getting flattered by some fine ass dudes.

Cons: Elias "Stack" Moore.

"If I come you better make sure you keep him away from me." You whispered out, closing the nail polish and placing it on your wooden end table, a high pitch static scream of excitement pierced your ear through the phone - a smile clinging to your face.

"Ah! Of course! I'll come over at three - I need you to fix my hair; this girl I went to fucked me up."

"I told you! You should've just waited for me to do it."

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If it was hot inside - it was scorching outside. Sweat already formed on your body as you and Pearline walked side by side towards Smoke's home - the sound of music blast through the speakers and the smell of barbeque floated within the air made your mouth slightly water. You were ready to dance and eat. Tucking your braids behind your ear, you Pearline towards the backyard were the party resided. Opening the chain linked gate - her eyes lit up as she saw Sammie walking towards her.

"Hey, baby," He said, planting a tender kiss on her lips, holding her close towards his body. His brown irises then landed on you, giving you a warm smile. "Whatssup?" Sammie greeted you and you gave him a quick hello.

"I didn't think you was coming." Sammie chuckled out as his arm wrapped around Pearline's shoulders, lovingly leaning his weight slightly on her smaller frame.

"I wasn't - but your lil' girlfriend forced me." You jested back, which made Pearline dramatically gasp, her hand playfully slapping the warm skin on your arm.

"Sounds like her, c'mon, it's hot out here, I know you ladies could use a cold drink." Sammie tilted his head back towards the crowd that danced in the large backyard, signaling for you to follow him. The thumping of music reverberated through your body as you followed behind the couple, passing the speakers and towards the multiple coolers, 'hellos' rolling off of your lips as you briefly greeted familiar faces you saw around the neighborhood. Pearline was right - everyone was here.

"Water, beer, soda, or juice?" Sammie asked.

"Water, please." Pearline spoke as she rubbed Sammie's back, her giddy smile never fading.

"Ugh, ya'll don't got liquor?" You asked, trying your best to mask your slightly annoyed face - but Sammie could tell you weren't feeling the options he gave. With a chuckle, handing Pearline a water bottle he spoke: "We don't, technically. It's bring your own booze - but since we know you; ask Smoke, he got some stashed away, only for family."

"And I'm guessing that's the same for bud, too?" You asked with crossed arms, and Sammie nodded.

"Yea', but you're a girl, I doubt you have trouble findin' somebody who let you face a blunt or two." Sammie shrugged, which earned a jab to the side from Pearline, he quickly reassured he was only kidding.

But you knew there was some truth to within his joke. You're a pretty girl - and most of these men at the party were thirsty just to be in your presence.

"Well I ain't gonna hover over ya'll all night, I'm gonna find Smoke - I need a shot," you said but before you left you took one last gaze at Pearline, her brown eyes gazing back at you knowingly. "Make sure he don't come nowhere near me - let me know if you see him..."

"Mhm, don't worry about it." She replied.

Pushing through the crowd your eyes scanned multiple faces, trying to find the older twin within all the commotion. Couples grind against each other, oldheads getting drunk off of beers, and multiple friend groups huddled up. Some playing cards while others shared neighborhood gossip. The backyard was packed and you were thankful that there were trees around, creating multiple shady spots to cool off when needed. Noticing a familiar face leaning against a tree you slyly walked over towards him, a soft smile clinging onto your plump lips.

"Ah! If it isn't lil' big brother!" You shouted slightly over the blaring music, making Smoke snap his head towards you. Chewing on a toothpick that rested in his mouth he dipped his head towards you in respect. Smoke looked so different than the last time you saw him, he was taller and he had a stronger built. Smoke was never a scrawny man - but you could tell that he's been in the gym as his thick biceps flex with each movements of his arms.

"Whatssup," Smoke said as a sliver of a smile danced on his lips. He gave you a side hug, squeezing your shoulder slightly before letting go of you. "How you been?"

"Been better, hangin' in there, you know how it is. But whatssup with you? The big city got too small for ya'll?" You asked, you were nosy and you were unsuccessfully dry begging some information on Stack - and it seemed like Smoke could tell your intentions. Yes, you didn't want to be around Stack - and yes, you despise that man. But you also still have some love for him, even if it pained you to admit that. He held you down through some of your darkest hours; during those days were you didn't have the strength to get out of bed. Sticking to guy code and loyalty to his little brother, Smoke wouldn't spill anything to you and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Somethin' like that." He muttered as his brown eyes flicked towards the crowd quickly, making sure that people wouldn't get too rowdy in his backyard.

"Mhm, still tightlipped as ever," you sighed, resting your hands on your hips. "Sammie told me to talk to you about getting some liquor - ya'll got tequila?"

"Light or dark?"

"Dark - you already know I don't drink that light shit." You answered. Smoke tilted his head towards his home, pulling the toothpick out of his mouth as he muttered - he didn't want the party patrons getting the idea of raiding his liquor cabinet. Or worse; pestering him to spare a bottle or two.

"Inside, pass the kitchen, turn on your left. Should see a cabinet with what you lookin for." Smoke quickly replied, his deep southern accent cutting through the loud bass of the music playing.

"Thanks, Smoke."

"Don't let nobody know where you got it from and keep them outta my house. Bad enough these folks trashin' my backyard."

You gave Smoke a wide and toothy smile - some of your teeth were covered in gold caps, they weren't permanents like Smoke's or Stack's - but you would always wear them when 'special' occasions happened. And besides Stack gifted them to you on your birthday; one of the gems that adorned your gold teeth was your birthstone.

Weaving through the dancing crowd your shoulders brushing against distant relatives and strangers you would see around the neighborhood. The sweet barbeque smoke curled into the thick summer air - the smell of cooked meat, spices, and vegetables cutting through the scent of sweat, weed smoke, and spilled beer. Passing through a group that huddled around a small folding table the sound of glass bottles clinking against each other and cheers made you smile.

Today was a good day, you loved being around such good vibrations.

Stepping up onto the cracked slab of the concrete patio, your hands yanked open the sticky glass sliding door that separated the backyard chaos and the calm empty house. The air inside of the home was cooler - quieter, and the shadows from the sun setting crept across the wooden floors. With a grunt you slide the door closed and the muffling bass of the music was still heard through the thick walls. Smoke's home smelled like strong incense, lemon scented cleaner, sage, and fresh linen.

Annie had definitely been here prior.

Moving with purpose now, the sound of your sneakers squeaking against the wooden floor revibrated through you and your eyes scanned for the liquor cabinet - following the directions Smoke gave you. Turning the corner your irises were met with a large brown cabinet that was filled to the brim with all sorts of spirits and drinks. Making a brisk track towards it your hand ghosted over the handle, pulling open the glass door and reaching in to grab the bottle of tequila. Reposado - your favorite.

The bottle was full and the glass was slightly cold under your warm hands, with a sigh of victory you turned on your heel to make your way back outside. But then you paused. Standing in the small hallway of the home your eyes lingered on the golden sunrays that pooled onto the floor, the front door of the home was open, only the thin mesh of the screen door was holding back the bugs and summer air from entering. You knew Smoke wouldn't be the type to just let his front door wide open - even if him and half of the men in this party weren't lacking any 'peacekeepers', you're sure it would bother him if someone he didn't know would stumble into his home causing trouble.

Walking towards the open door in an attempt to close it shut, your legs turned into jelly and your heart raced as if you just got done running a marathon. Across the small stretch of dead grass on the front lawn and cracked pavement on the side walk, your irises lingered onto him.

Stack.

He sat lazily in the diver seat of the light brown lowrider, it's rims obnoxiously gaudy, they were gold and it seemed like wheels could barely fit the body of the car. The engine was off but he sat with the car door wide open, surrounded by some guys you met in passing through the neighborhood - his friends. Laughing too loud their words exchanged between each other were sharp and quick witted, yet long and casual like summer itself.

Stack was shining in gold like always, but now you've noticed he adorned more accessories than the last time you saw him. Multiple golden chains rested around his neck, gold glistening from the sunlight as he adjusted his watch that wrapped around his wrist, and the bright red color gem stones shined within the rings that he wore.

Smoke wore some jewelry too. Three chains - one of them was a Jesus piece - a watch and golden teeth just on the side of his mouth. His jewelry wasn't extravagant but anyone with a good eye could tell it was expensive. But Stack? He looked as if he was a pharaoh - the he himself was made out of gold.

A red tee balled up in Stack's lap, revealing his strong biceps and arms, the white tank top clung onto his skin and the soft cotton only accentuated his muscles even more. You remember those long winter nights of running your hands over his hard chest, feeling each and ever dip and valley of the muscles on his body. How your lips would kiss his abs, trailing down lower and lower...

He looked good.

All you could do was just watch and stare, the tequila bottle hanging loosely in your hands, dangerously close to dropping the glass bottle. Your reservations about seeing him melted away, you wanted to open the door and call out his name - to see if he still felt the same way about you. But then the memories of him ghosting you, ignoring any and all attempts of you reaching out to him; and the fact that he had another girl on the side made the butterflies in your stomach turn sickening.

With a bitter chuckle to yourself, you turned on your heel and made your way back towards the party.

This night will interesting to say the least.

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A few hours passed and the sky melted into a deep burnt orange color as the sun dipped behind the multiple rooftops, disappearing from the sky in due time. The orange and scorching glow washed over the multiple brown bodies that danced on the makeshift dancefloor, red plastic cups and sweat-slicked skin shined brightly within the summer afternoon.

The party didn't slow though - it only grew louder, brighter, more alive as more people showed up. You were feeling good - no, you were feeling great. The multiple shots of tequila you shared with Pearline pushed away all the negative emotions you felt hours prior, not to mention the sun that nipped at your skin made you a little bit sun-drunk. The burn of the liquor grounded you - and you were laughing again - joking with Pearline as you both swatting away dudes who couldn't get the hint that ya'll weren't interested.

You told Pearline that you saw Stack earlier and she asked if you wanted to leave - she reassured that she'd leave with you without complaints - but you told her it was fine, as long as Stack kept his distance you'd gladly stay.

"He's not gonna mess with you, sis. I got you" Pearline whispered in your ear with a supportive smile dancing on her lips. You nodded your head as you reached for the juice - using it as a chaser to kill the bite from the tequila shots. Both of you sat side by side on cheap plastic chairs, your knees touching against hers. Sammie who was once standing besides Pearline now stood in front of the patio, he was DJing now and your eyes would flick between Pearline and Sammie as she shouted cheers.

They were cute together, like lovesick school kids.

Sammie was in the zone, his head nodding with the thunderous beat and skillful fingers glide across the board, and the bass from the chopped and screwed beat rippled through the joyous crowd. Your smile widen now, showing of the golden grills that adorn your teeth, and your body relaxed into the rhythm and for a moment you almost forgot about Stack.

Almost.

Your eyes noticed the backdoor sliding open and there he was in all of his glory.

Stack.

He was wearing that same balled up red Nike shirt from earlier, shielding the white cotton tank, but you could see the soft fabric peaking through the collar and under the chains around his neck. He moved with purpose as he stepped down the concrete slab; making his way towards the party. That same easy going smile that you use to worship danced across his handsome face, gold teeth catching the light of the ember sunset. He dapped up Sammie, whispering something in the younger cousin's ear, which made him shake his head with a small laughter escaping his lips. And his focus was placed on the DJ board again.

Stack dapped up the people who were brave enough to say hello, he was like a magnet that pulled people's attention towards him without even trying. And even though the sun heat rays beat down on you - an oppressive chill ran cold through your body as he went deeper into the party - towards you.

The tequila and juice twisted within your stomach and your breathing became rapid - you weren't the type of get sick off of liquor - you can handle your drink. But seeing Stack, the heat, and the unfortunate decision of taking a few shots without eating first made you dizzy. Pearline noticed your once mellow mood turning sour and without a word she placed a calming touch on your thigh. Your eyes met with hers briefly and she whispered affirmations in your ear - telling you to take a deep breath and that you both could leave now.

You told her it was okay between long breathes, but your jaw was clenched tight and your hands gripped onto the plastic arm rest of the chair, your leg bouncing with rapid successions. Her hand didn't leave your skin as she handed you a cold bottle of water - and you chugged the bottle as if you've haven't drank anything in days.

Brown familiar irises flicked towards you and your eyes widen like saucers, as if you saw a ghost. Stack noticed you; of course he did. He could pick you out any crowd like it was nothing - like it was second nature to him. His smile curled up in a mischievous grin, but that smile wasn't full of an apology nor regret of hurting you so bad - but instead his golden grin was laced with nothing but cockiness that use to send butterflies to your core, making your heart race with desire and need.

It still did.

With a tilt of his head, Stack signaled you to come over to him, as if nothing problematic happened between the two of you - as if he never left you high and dry. You didn't move, you barely even flinched and you broke eye contact with him, your gaze lingering on the card game that was happening behind you. Slim was chattering away about how folks just don't know how to play the game. The biting warmth of the tequila was now replaced with a cold sting in your heart, you hope that Stack would cut his losses and leave you alone.

But that wasn't him, he never gave up.

Leaning off of the wooden fence he casual shuffled through the dancing crowd, people stepped out of his way without him even uttering a single word while his eyes were still trained on you. He reached you and Pearline within seconds.

She stood up from the chair, her hands resting on her hips as she spoke: "Uh, uh. Not tonight, boy."

But Stack was barely moved by her warning as his smirk only grew. Raising his hands up in a playful display of innocence his dark eyes flicked between you and Pearline who shielded you from his sultry gaze.

"Relax," Stack casually said as he placed his hands to sides, his head lulling back to see your expressions at hearing his voice. "I ain't here to start no drama. This a party, I just wanted to know if ya'll enjoyin' it, that's all."

But he was only met with silence from you and Pearline. You were still sitting in the plastic chair, your arms crossed over your chest as Stack's intense gaze never left your body. You wore a baby blue color tube top with dark acid washed shorts that stopped just above the curve of your ass, and your white Nike cortez with blue accents kicked at the small patch of dirt.

Your eyes refuse to even look at him.

"Damn, baby. You still mad at me?" Stack chuckled out with a knowing glint in his eyes - he was loving the tension between the two of you, even as toxic as it sounded - he liked when you were pissed off, it made him feel wanted and desired. It also didn't hurt that the make up sex would be more tender the angrier he made you.

You replied with a short irritated grunt and leered at him, giving off the vibe of 'don't test me', and your body stayed stock still in the chair. A small laugh escaped Stack's plump lips, he knew he was getting under your skin - and he soaked up each and every annoyed sigh you sent his way.

Stack's intense gaze pulled away from you and landed on Slim who slammed down a playing card on the plastic table. The older man was complaining about the new age music that was popular today.

"Slim, whatssup with you, unc?" Stack called out, which made Slim's face lit up. They both dapped each other up as the older man reclaimed his seat.

"Nothin' much, just tellin' these cats about some real music. None of that 'bitches and hoes' nonsense ya'll be listing to," Slim then took a sip from his flask, his face twisting at the bitter taste of liquor hitting his lips. "What happen to lovin' a woman, cherishin' her - takin' her out and bein' tender on her. Nowadays I wonder if ya'll actually love these queens."

"Look man; I ain't got love for these hoes, the only thing I love is pussy and money - ain't nobody tryna hear all that mushy shit tonight." Stack laughed, which earn a roar of chuckles from the men that were playing cards with Slim - some of them even dapped up Stack at his statement. Slim shook his head and waved his hand towards Stack, as if shooing him away.

But his harsh words stung at your heart and the burning sensations of tears nipped at your eyes, Pearline noticed this but before she could comfort you - you pushed yourself out of the chair, the legs of it scrapped against the concrete, silencing the laughter between the men. You raced towards the crowd as you made your way to Smoke's house. Multiple eyes followed you pushing through the dancefloor. Pearline glared at Stack and something within the man tinged with remorse.

He finally realized that you were hurt and that this wasn't a game anymore.

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The house was empty and the tequila in your veins burned with heartbreak and rage. Your legs rushed down the hallway and with hasty movements you flung open the bathroom door, slamming it loudly behind you. Cold tile met the burning skin of your back as your hands shielded your face, your breath hitching within your throat until it finally snapped like a rubber band.

Tears spilled freely from your eyes, slipping pass the cracks between your fingers as your body shook with each wail. With trembling lips your mind raced. You thought that you could handle it, that seeing him wouldn't wound you. But hearing Stack talk as if nothing mattered, as if he wasn't even affected by your presence made you feel hollow inside. He didn't just leave - he thrown you away. And that shit cuts deep, it felt like a knife hit your gut from his casual actions towards you.

A knock cut through your cries as your head throb with an ache, inhaling the sharp cold bathroom air your fingers wiped away the smeared makeup on your face due to the tears.

"Yea', you can come in." You whispered out, you assumed that Pearline was on the other side of the door - it made sense because only close friends of the twins were allowed to enter the vacant house. The sound of the door creaking open sent a wave of embarrassment through you.

But it wasn't Pearline your eyes were meet with.

It was Stack.

Stepping inside of the small bathroom he quietly closed the door behind him. His expression was different from the charming smile he wore prior to making you cry, all the jokes and cocky aura melted away like ice under the heat of the Mississippi sun. Guilt tugged Stack's face as he looked over your tear stained cheeks, your mascara running and your cherry red lipgloss slightly smeared from your hands pressing closely to your face.

"I-I didn't know you were cryin'." Stack muttered softly, his body leaning on the door and his brown eyes refusing to leave your shaking form. You didn't reply to him and you bit your lip, the gold teeth in your mouth slightly jabbing against the plump skin on your bottom lip. Glaring at Stack through glossy eyes you shook your head - you were growing tired of his antics.

"Hey, I didn't come in here to hurt you I just--"

"But you did hurt me, Stack! You did!" You shouted, cutting him off from his rambling. Your arms were crossed around yourself in an attempt to self soothe the anxiety that was threatening to spill over. Silence fell over the two of you and his eyes soften at your words.

"You left me like I wasn't shit. No goodbyes, not even a fuckin' breakup call! A-And then I find out you cheated on me with some bitch who lives in the suburbs," you shook your head as a pained smile danced across your lips, and with teary eyes you continued. "And now you show up and act like nothin' happened between us - you're such a joke, Stack."

Stack looked down as his hands rested in the pockets of his pants, guilt crashing into him like waves in a tsunami. He felt like shit hearing those words escape from your mouth - but those words were the truth - the bitter truth. He wasn't a good boyfriend to you; yes he took care of you, he praised you, and he adored you - but good to you? That wasn't the case. He treated you like a random fling even though the feelings he felt about you were so much more intense.

"I'm a coward," Stack mumbled. "I-I just didn't know how to be with you and still become the man I wanted to be."

"Oh, boo-hoo! You ain't even try!" You snapped as your voice cracked with each word you cried out, you hated how hurt you sounded and how raw you felt. Stack didn't flinch at your words and with a roll of his shoulders he spoke again, his southern accent curling around your ears like music.

"I was scared, I thought if I left without tellin', you'd realize that I'm no good - that you'll move on to someone better," he stepped closer towards you and the feeling of his shirt lightly grazing the exposed skin of your crossed arms. "But when I came back in town; I asked about you, and I was happy to know that you were still here - that maybe I could start over and fix this shit."

The air between you two were thicker now, more intense, and you couldn't take your eyes off of Stack.

You didn't want to.

"I never stopped thinkin' about you," he whispered low. "Even when I tried to, you were always on my mind when I left, I damn near felt lost without you."

"Then why you actin' like I never meant anything to you?"

Stack's lips twitched and his expression looked like he was scanning his scattered thoughts, as if trying to find the right words to say. His large and calloused hand reached out slowly, hovering over your arms, unsure if he could touch you without you swatting his hand away.

"Because if I admit to myself just how much you mean to me; then I woulda had to realize that I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me too..."

A tight lump formed in your throat at his words, you wanted to scream in his face, to push him out the bathroom and tell him to leave you alone - forever.

But you didn't.

You just stared at him as your chest heaved with shallow breaths. You hated him, you loved him, you missed him, and you never wanted to see him again. Your hands moved as if they had a mind of their own and you rested them on his broad shoulders, the feeling of the soft fabric under your fingers sent shockwaves and aching desire towards your core. Stack was the man that ruined you - but he was also the same one who built you up when no one would have.

Stack shuttered out a sigh of relief under your touch, as if feeling your hand press against his tense muscles was all he needed. His strong arms wrapped around your waist tightly, pulling your frame towards his, and his forehead rested on your bare shoulder. The party that was just outside of the door was muffled by the heavy breathing that escaped both of your lungs.

Leaving his head from the crook of your neck - both of your eyes clashed with each other - neither one of you breaking the intense gaze. And with a passing second your lips met his, the kiss was soft as if your bodies were trying to get reacquainted with each other, and his strong hands raced over your backside - clinging onto you as if you'd disappear from his touch.

The once soft kiss grew deeper - more hungry. And your fingers interlocked behind his head, the cold feeling of the multiple chains he wore grazed your knuckles. Tears still clung onto your long lashes as Stack cupped your face in his hand, both of your tongues fighting and dancing against each other. The taste of weed and alcohol filled your mouth as his bit your lip, begging you if he could go further pass just kissing.

You knew that you shouldn't do this; he hadn't earn to touch you like this again, he hadn't fix the broken heart that he shattered brutally, and he hadn't changed enough to re-enter your life as if he never left. But your heart, so tender and pure, still remembered those nights were he held you close. Making love to you and touching you places where only he knew that made you shiver in ecstasy.

"This doesn't mean I forgive you, Stack."

"I know, baby. But lemme show you how much I missed you."

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You and Stack slipped through the dark and quiet home like ghosts, his strong hands held your waist flush against his body as he guided you through the dark hallways of his older brother's house. The wooden floorboards creaked and groan beneath your feet with each step you both took. Stack's lips brushed the soft skin of your shoulder, placing tender kisses up your neck - just stopping below your ear.

You could feel his growing bulge pressing against your ass as his steady and firm hands grasp at your waist, a shiver of delight rushed through your body as memories of him fucking you made the ache between your thighs grow in anticipation. You grinded your self onto Stack which only made him quicken the pace through the house.

Your pulsed quicken under his open mouth and you could feel him smiling against your skin, cutting through the neat living room, you and Stack reached the guest bedroom. With careful hands he slowly turned the knob and his head lulling back to make sure no one saw the two of you sneaking inside of the bedroom. When the coast was clear - you both shuffled into the room. His arm still wrapped around your waist and quiet click was heard, he locked the door making sure no one would interrupt the two of you.

The once burnt orange of the evening sunset had faded away; now the blue shadows of nighttime crept into the dark room, the silver moonlight pooling across the empty bed and you turned on your heel, crashing your lips against his and his hands squeezing your ass. You gasp at the feeling of his ring slightly scraping against the skin of your ass, which made him deepen the kiss again. Your hands tightly gripped his shirt within your fist, pulling him closer until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

Stack adjusted his body weight as he hovered over you, making sure that he wouldn't crush you underneath him, and the sound of his jewelry clinking against each other made your head spin. You bit his lip as he pulled away from the kiss, which earned a low hiss from him. You smiled lazily as his knowing hands traced over the hem of your shorts, his fingers tracing small shapes over the denim pockets until they landed on the button.

You began to kick your shoes off as Stack unbutton your shorts, your lip tugged between your teeth as you watched his movements. The sound of the zipper becoming undone made a wave of arousal clung at your already soaking pussy and your hips slightly bucked forward as Stack slowly pulled your shorts off, leaning on your forearms you raised your hips - helping him slip off the denim on your body.

All you wore now was your tube top, cotton panties with a small bow at the waistband, and white cotton socks. He reached for your shirt but you swatted his hands away from the thin fabric.

"If I take a piece of clothing off it's only fair that you do too." You whispered, showing off the golden grills that Stack gifted you years ago. Seeing your already beautiful smile made his heart flutter - but the sight of you with golden capped teeth made his already stiffening member grow even harder - the man was straining against his pants.

With nimble fingers Stack pulled off his shirt along with the tight beater that clung onto his hard muscles, he was shirtless now and his multiple chains glistened under the moonlight - the diamonds danced against his brown skin and it looked as if he himself was glowing. Laying on his back you straddled him and your hands steered his towards your top, his chestnut colored irises lit up when he felt your breast through your shirt.

"When you get your titties pierced?" He asked as he pinched the sensitive buds on your chest, making you grind your soaking core against his jeans, you could feel his dick twitch within his pants as you continue to rock your hips.

"A couple of weeks after you left; I wanted somethin' different."

"Fuck, baby. Lemme see 'em." Stack requested as both of your hands slipped off the blue top over your head. A small giggle escaped your lips at the sight of his face; his mouth went slack and his eyes were glued to your half nude body. His calloused hands raced across your skin and the sound of him kicking off his sneakers made you look back and with strong arms he pulled himself towards the headboard of the bed with you still sitting on his lap.

Once situated his hands cupped your breast and his thumbs slowly rolled over the pierced buds, slightly pressing down on the silver jewelry that adorn your chest, a shiver ran up your spine as you moaned out his name. You nipples were already sensitive, but after getting them pierced that sensitivity doubled, and you were practically shaking within Stack's arms.

With one hand he pinched your nipple, the sharp yet pleasurable sensation zapped through your body and straight to your aching pussy, his free hand held onto your hip as he lowered his head and latched his mouth onto your breast. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked your nipple, his teeth slightly pulling at the jewelry. Your nails dug into his strong shoulders as you threw your head back, encouraging words fell from your lips as you begged him to keep going and how good you were already feeling.

Stack hummed against your chest and your hand lovely stroked his hair carefully as to not mess up his waves. His tongue swirled your nipple as he helped you grind yourself on his hard dick, he still had his pants on as his hips bucked into you. With a wet pop, he release your breast from his mouth, biting his lip when your eyes connected again.

"You're too damn sexy, baby. I need to taste her. It's been too long and I know she misses me..." Stack whispered against your chest. He would always refer to your pussy as 'she' or 'her' when he got in this mood.

And you loved it.

"Feel how much she missed you, baby." You said into his open mouth as your hand guided his towards your wet sex, you still wore your panties but that didn't stop Stack from rubbing small circles on your clothed clit while his ring finger pressed against your entrance through the thin fabric. You humped against his hand which made a chuckle fall from his hips, his eyes trained on the movements of your hips against hand.

"Take these off, they gettin' in the way." He stated, which you gladly did, listening to his demand without a second thought. Leaning on his back against the soft blanket of the bed your breast pressed firmly onto his hard and well trained muscles on his chest. Your hips rising off of his body as you slide your panties off, kicking the soaked fabric off of your legs.

With a quick peck on the lips, Stack guided you to climb higher, your exposed pussy now in view as your hands rested on the headboard. Stack rested his head on the many pillows within the bed and his warm breath against your thigh made you tremble in anticipation. Lowering your hips with his hands, you were now sitting on his face, and his tongue flatten against your clit. Rolling your hips you began to ride his face, his tongue lazily yet full of expertise swiped across your aching entrance.

The tip of his tongue circled your clit and the rough feeling of his grills rubbing against the sensitive bud as he raced his tongue across your sex made you shiver. Stack's strong hands held onto your hips as he guided them against the movements of his tongue, with a vice grip you held onto the wooden headboard, and your eyes gazed down at the man. His brown eyes looked up at you, soaking up all of the curves on your body and the sweet taste of your pussy that danced on his tongue made him roll his eyes back in pleasure.

"Ugh, fuck!" You groaned out as your hips bucked against his face. Stack's lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud and the overbearing sensation made you lean forward; resting your cheek on the headboard. You chanted out Stack's name - his actual name - as if it was a holy hymn. Hearing his name roll sweetly off of your tongue made Stack's head spin, and with strong arms he held onto your waist, leaning himself over.

You let out a small yelp in surprise as your once steady grip on the headboard disappeared - now replaced with soft bedsheets. Your body weight rested on your shoulders and your legs were up in the air, Stack's arms were wrapped around your torso, pulling you close to his muscular chest. Working over your core Stack slowly slipped his middle finger inside you and the feeling of his rings grazing your clit earned a giggle of pleasure from you.

With precise movements Stack moved his hand, pressing his finger in and out of your pussy as his lips kissed your inner thigh, and the feeling of his mustache tickled at your skin. Your hands rested on the bedsheets, gripping the fabric within your fist. Stack added another finger in, the wet sounds of your pussy echoed through the room, and the slick sounds only made him speed up his movements.

Stack's fingers were now fully inside of you, his ring and middle finger filling you up as they skillfully worked over your core. High pitched moans fell from your lips as your feet fluttered from the pleasure, and the familiar intense feeling swarmed towards your core. Stack pulled his mouth away from your pussy as his fingers began fucking into you. He whispered promises to you that you know he'd never keep, but in this moment you believed every word he spoke - lapping up those lies as if they were dipped in honey.

Within an instant a wave of euphoria crashed into you and a loud cry of pleasure escaped your lungs. Your body trembled within his vice grip, trying it's best to regulate itself from experiencing coming so hard on his thick fingers.

"Mhm, just like that, baby." Stack praised with a cocky smile plastered on his handsome face, his fingers continued to thrust into your sensitive core, which earned a cry from overstimulation from you. Your hands clung onto his forearms in an attempt to slow the pace of his fingers, taking the hint he slowly pulled them out of you, and with a playful slap against your pussy - he released you from his tight grasp - your body laying limp on the bed as he stood up.

Catching your breath your eyes danced over Stack's toned body, his hands unbuckling his belt, slipping off his jeans and boxers in one swift movement freeing himself. Stack was big, and each time he would fuck you after a fight, you'd walk with a limp the next day. His thick and heavy member twitched with anticipation of fucking you again after all these years. Stack's mind would wonder towards your body when he would touch himself or decided to fuck some random woman he would entertain during those grueling years in Chicago.

But his hands weren't yours and those women weren't you.

Pumping himself with his hand Stack flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling you close to him so your lower half dangled off the edge of the bed. You looked over your shoulder as you watched Stack's face twist with pleasure as he slowly entered you.

"Fuck..." He groaned out as his hands held onto your hips. The feeling of your pussy squeezing around him almost made him come right then and there, he was convinced that you both were made for each other - you were the only woman who could have that kind of effect on his body by just entering. Pushing himself all the way in, he paused his hips, savoring the feeling of you, and also helping you adjust yourself to him. You were so tight and so wet, he could stay in your pussy for hours if you let him.

"C'mon, Elias..." You begged as you began rocking your hips, urging the man to fuck you, which he gladly did. High pitched grunts fell from your lips with each thrust he made and the arch in your back became to much to support by yourself, his strong arms pushed you flush against the bed while holding your waist to keep your back arched against his powerful thrust of his hips. Your legs turned into jelly as they shook underneath you and your feet barely touched the ground - you were practically standing on the tips of your toes.

"Keep fucking me, keep fucking me!" You begged out between moans, Stack was rendered to only grunts and groans, but that didn't stop him from replying to you - in his own way of course. With a swift smack he landed a sharp slap against the plush skin of your ass, making you hiss out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He continued fucking into you, smacking your ass, and holding your waist in a vice grip.

You sure you'll have bruises later.

Leaning upwards you turned your head with your mouth open, signaling to him that you wanted a kiss. Stack's needy lips crashed into yours as your tongue danced across his, you could taste how sweet you truly were on his lips and mustache. Your golden grills bumped into his in the passionate make-out session and his heavy body was leaning flush against your sweaty back. His chest heaved shallow breaths as his hips sporadically bucked into you - feeling his hard cock inside of you twitch you knew he was close.

And so you were.

Pulling away from the sloppy kiss, the string of saliva that connected between both of your bottom lips snapped, and Stack rested his head onto your shoulder. The same familiar feeling of overbearing pleasure that needed to be alleviated came back within your abdomen, and with a loud cry you came on Stack's dick. Your eyes rolled back as your fist gripped the bedsheets below you.

"Damn, baby. W-Where you want it?"

"Inside me, baby."

And without missing a beat Stack came too, a guttural groan reverberated through his body and crashed into you. The feeling of his hard jewelry pressing into your back grounded you as you catch your breathe, and the warm feeling of his come filling you up made you smile in relief. You both paused your movements and Stack was still inside of you, rolling his shoulders he slowly pulled out of you - which made you groan from the sensation. You rested your sore body onto the bed and your cheek rested on a soft pillow. Stack smiled as he playfully patted your ass.

"Good shit, baby." He smiled which made you roll your eyes, turning your head to look away from him, trying your best to kind the lopsided smile that clung onto your lips.

"You're so annoy--" but before you could finish your statement a sharp knock was heard on the door, the handle violently jiggling between each knock.

"Stack? I know ya'll ain't in there doin' what I think ya'll doin'!" The voice of Smoke shouted behind the lock door. Stack spat out a 'shit' and quickly sat up from the bed, putting on his boxers as he wiped his face with the back of his hand that was covered in your juices. You sat up and your eyes widen in alarm as you reached for your clothes, but Stacked waved at you to stop your movements.

Unlocking the door Stack's body stood in front of the small crack, hiding your naked form. Hushed whispers were shared between the twins and you assumed that Stack was getting cursed out by his older brother and with a sharp: "Clean that fuckin' room before ya'll leave." Smoke slipped away from the door, which made Stack shout back in his usual playful tone.

"I was already gon' do that!" And he closed the door behind him, sucking his teeth as he threw himself onto the bed next to you, making you bounce a bit from his added weight on the mattress. Brown eyes stared into each other as silence now fell over the two of you. Leaning in to close the space between each other Stack ran his fingers through your hair, tucking the braid behind your ear, and the sound of his chains clinking against each other made you ease under his touch.

"I'm so tender on you, girl...I promise I'll do right by you; just give me another chance." Stack whispered, his eyes training on your features as you bit your lip. You were terrified of being hurt by him again, but you were also scared living the rest of your days without feeling his touch too. Reaching for his shoulder you pulled him closer towards you - your lips ghosting over his and you finally gave him your answer.

"Okay, but don't mess this up..."

[ultralspblr]

heyy!! i just read some of your stack oneshots and omg i’m in loveee!!

can you make one where stack is a munch, he’s edging the reader to the brink of overstimulation like she can’t take it. the reader has been teasing stack all week and he’s just a munch but he’s lowkey making her pay for what she’s been doing to him all week soooo he makes her wait a significantly long time for her orgasms and is just talking his shitt!!

18+ mdni, munchy!stack, vamp!stack, biting, mock praise, overstimulation, oral (f!receiving)

recommend songs; closer nine inch nails or cherry waves deftones!

it was bad enough that you guys were gonna be apart for awhile but you had no right to tease him. then the audacity to think that he wouldn’t do anything about it? please.

you had came home before him it seemed. the house was dimly lit with the only light being from the glow of the moon through the curtain. you kicked your shoes off and put your keys on the counter with a sigh of relief.

elias had been occupied with business for the last week. you hardly seen him anymore. you thought the urge to resist feeding on you maybe became too strong but then again, he would’ve told you..right?

the last time you talked, he was protesting against you shaving. #oddiknow. you had sent a cheeky picture of you in the bath with conveniently placed bubble bath crowding the top of your vagina. you typed “need to shave it..what do you think?” he responded with — “leave it, i like hiding in bushes” which sent your heart racing and his tip leaking, apparently.

1 attachment “told you we like it”

this was one of the many times that you’d tease him since being apart. each time progressed in promiscuity.

you walked to the bedroom to pick a pair of pyjamas. once in the room, you’re abruptly meet with elias’ grinning face and dark blue irises. “shit!”you gasp jumping softly, causing him to chuckle—“didn’t mean to scare you baby” with a breathless sigh.

“when’d you get in?” you asked hugging him as he sniffs your neck and groans, almost like he can taste the copper pumping through your body “earlier, been waitin’ on you” oh boy. “yeah? that’s sweet baby” you smile reaching back to unhook your bra.

“i got it” he told moving behind you and sliding his hands under your shirt. his digits grazed the lace of the bra as he dipped his head down and kissed your neck. “missed ya mama” with a hint of desperation in his tone “i missed you too baby” just as he slides his hands to cup your breast. they move eagerly grabbing and kneading at the flesh.

you whined melting into his touch “remember what you said you wanted to do to me? as he hummed and bent you over the bed in a swift motion. your breath catches in your throat at the speed of everything happening before elias pressed his bulge against your ass.

“been teasing me for some time now, hm? thought i wasn’t gonna come home eventually? stack asked whilst picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. you giggled and hit his back as he tossed you onto the bed “baby i was just playin’” “yeah i bet”.

the man would lift your shirt and pull the unfastened brassiere from under you before dismissing it to the rug on the floor.

you watched as he admired your newly freed breasts, “my eyes are up here” you’d sass as elias chuckled “yeah i see that but—“ he’d lick his lips looking lower to your cunt “what i want is down here”.

you somehow ended up with a belt around both your wrists tied to the headboard with elias between your legs. not that you were complaining.

he would leave open mouthed kisses from your stomach to your inner thighs to your slit. #innerthighs; a lick placed for each stretch mark he found. once he got to your slit, it was like he was famished. sucking and nibbling on it. elias would lap you up like a dog drinking water. “mmphm! stack wait” you’d hum as he licked you up causing your body to twitch—strike one.

he genuinely was famished, there hasn’t been anyone for him to feed on in ages it felt.

that’s why he’s eating you the way he is.

your pleas for him to, quote “wait” didn’t do anything at all.

he had your legs pinned to the bed with his arms as he continued to eat. “daddy wait..ngh!” you cried as your legs twitch “aw its okay baby” he taunted slowly rubbing one digit around your clit.

“give me a minute, okay baby?” before he rose to his feet and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. you waited in anticipation at what he might’ve went to get. elias was known for using things in the bedroom.

he returned with a bowl which had you so confused. “what’s that?” you tried to look up and into the bowl as elias chuckled—“you just lay back baby” with a smirk.

you huffed nervously.

the man put some in his mouth and dipped his head back between your thighs, finding your clit as you arch your back at the cold feeling.

ice.

“fuck! baby that’s cold!” you exclaimed as he continued on with his ministrations. you were arching and twitching and turning, like a fish out of water.

“stay still lil mama” he demanded looking up at you with his blue eyes yet again. he was starved.

once the cube melted you seen him pop another into his mouth dragging it along your bud of nerves. you were on the brink of a very satisfying orgasm. “please daddy..let me come” you beg as your eyes water. you were right there.

just before you could finish, elias removed the ice cube from his mouth looking up at you. you groaned frustratedly “why would you stop stack?” “you looked like you needed to cool down, seemed excited” he shrugged with a smirk as you kicked at him. it was no use.

“you can wait right? like you made me wait” he said rubbing your pussy causing you to moan and shiver. “right there—please” was all you said before he stopped again.

this time you whined and kicked you legs more.

“be patient baby” stack taunted yet again mocking the text message you’d sent him after sending a picture of you in your robe, fresh out the shower. “please elias, im sorry” “too late to be sorry now, don’t ya think?”.

jackass.

you squeezed your thighs together trying to get any friction you could.

the man watched in amusement “alright alright, calm down baby—daddy’s gonna let you come” then, ducking his head to finish his meal. literally.

he licked and sucked like a man starved. it’s no wonder you came everywhere. “‘member what you said to me?” he questioned after you came down from that euphoric orgasm.

the question was referring to when you told him once he gets back he can turn you.

you nodded hesitantly “is that what you want?” elias confirmed staring you dead in your eyes looking for any sign of uncertainty.

not a sliver.

“yes” you answered with a sure nod. you felt a sting or pinch on your inner thigh and closed your eyes. you trusted that he wouldn’t go too far and..well you know.

and he didn’t.

the next night you work up with a raging head headache. you were undead now. an eternity with elias.

[ultralspblr]

Guess I'm easy like Sunday morning 🤰🏾😂

soft stack head cannons

soft!stack who is all bark no bite. — elias had been hitting on you for the better part of a year. innuendos, flirty comments—whole nine. “that dress real pretty” with a nod to the bodycon you’re wearing, “bet it’ll look better on my bedroom floor” “i dunno, why don’t you come find out?”. flustered isn’t even the word to explain how he’s acting.

he’d snort and shake his head “you’re a trip”.

soft!stack who finally gets you to himself and is nervous. — you and stack were sitting in the living room of his house watching some cringy movie as he continued on with the empty promises of a “good time” (although you’re not doubtin’ it). you leaned over and laid your head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around your waist bring you in closer. “you need somethin’?” he’d question scared that he might’ve been too awkward. “im okay elias” you respond with a nod and he looked back at the tv “wouldn’t want my baby sittin’ up in here uncomfortable”.

soft!stack who gets high and practically sticks to you. — you had been staying the night at his house for almost a week now. you’ve became accustom to his routine; wake up, smoke, eat, smoke, shower, smoke. hell, only time he isn’t high is when he’s sleep. the front door opened and closed real quick, you didn’t even have to look up—you smelled him before you seen him. “hey baby” he smirked with low red eyes “you okay?” you asked knowing that he would say yes. just had to be sure. he beelined to the couch sitting down, leaning most of his weight on you “you tryna go upstairs real quick, mama?”.

he knew you wouldn’t say no.

[ultralspblr]

𝖣𝗈𝗎𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗒

𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀－𝖣𝗋𝗎𝗀 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝗅𝖺𝗐𝗒𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒－She’s a prosecutor. He’s a plug. She’s supposed to bury men like him—but Elijah “Smoke” Moore doesn’t play by the rules. One look, one late-night call, and now she’s breaking every oath she ever took.

𝖠／𝖭－𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌💋

You met him on a Wednesday.

Black suit. Red bottoms. Mouth sharp enough to draw blood.

You were wrapping up a plea deal for a dumbass corner boy caught with two bricks and a loaded Glock. The judge was bored. The defense attorney was sweating. And he was in the back of the courtroom—leaned back, legs spread, chewing gum like the whole system was a joke.

You knew exactly who he was.

Elijah “Smoke” Moore.

Ex-trapper. Current plug. Twin brother to Stack. Connected. Protected. Never caught, never charged, never even pressed .Kept his hands too clean to catch a charge, but you knew better. He wasn’t untouchable. Not yet.

You’d heard his name in whispers.

Seen his case files sealed.

He was the ghost behind half the crime you prosecuted.

And yet, there he was. Watching you. Like you were the one on trial.

⸻

After court, he caught you outside, leaning against a matte black Maybach like it was part of his flex.

“You be lookin’ real cute up there, counselor,” he said, voice low and thick like honey poured over gravel.

You barely gave him a glance. “You always sit in the back of courtrooms watching your little runners get chewed up?”

He grinned, slow and lazy. “Only when the lawyer got legs like yours and a mouth slick enough to cut glass.”

You scoffed. “Try that line on a bottle girl, not me.”

“Mm. Nah. Bottle girls don’t wear Dior and argue the law like they got somethin’ to prove.”

He stepped closer. “I know your type. Smart. Mouthy. Thinkin’ you too good for the world you came from.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And I know yours. Overconfident. Untouchable. Thinkin’ your money makes you above the law.”

His gaze dropped to your lips, then your heels. “Nah, mamat. My mind makes me above the law. My money just makes it easier.”

⸻

Weeks passed.

You saw him again at your cousin’s birthday dinner. He walked in with his twin, Stack, throwing jokes and daps, like the Moore boys hadn’t been feeding half the Eastside.

You tried to ignore him.

Didn’t work.

Smoke stayed posted at the bar, watching you every time you laughed. Every time you looked too good for the man you came with. Every time your voice got low and smart—he leaned in, like he wanted to taste your next thought.

Later that night, you ended up in the kitchen. Alone.

He came in behind you.

“You look good in that dress,” he said casually, like y’all had been talking all night. “Bet you look better out of it.”

You didn’t even flinch. Just turned around, arms folded. “You don’t get scared talking reckless to a lawyer?”

“You don’t get tired playin’ moral high ground when I know your hands dirty too?”

His voice was low. That gravelly, confident, made-for-late-night-trouble tone. You should’ve left. Should’ve pushed past him and gone back to your date. But you didn’t.

You let him crowd you. Let his chain brush your collarbone. Let his fingers graze your wrist when he reached for your glass of wine, took a sip, and set it back down slow.

Then he whispered, “You ever get tired of pretendin’ you don’t like the bad guy?”

You didn’t answer.

Your eyes did.

—

The next time he called you? It was late.

Said he needed “legal advice.”

You told yourself you hated him.

Too cocky. Too slick. Too dangerous.

But that didn’t stop you from answering his texts.

Or letting him take you out—lowkey, out-of-town, no pictures.

It didn’t stop you from showing up to his condo in a trench coat and red lace.

And it damn sure didn’t stop you from letting him bend you over his marble counter while he whispered,

“Tell me who pussy this is.”

⸻

Now?

You’re back at his place. Again.

Skirt pushed up, panties tossed somewhere near the front door, and your back pressed against cool glass windows with the city lights sparkling behind you.

His gold chain swings against your chest with every thrust.

His hand’s around your throat.

Your legs are wrapped around his waist like you’ll fall apart without him holding you together.

“You miss me?” he rasps, lips hot on your neck.

You try to shake your head, lie again, pretend you’re stronger than this—but then he rolls his hips just right and you gasp out,

“Y-yes… fuck, yes.”

He grins against your skin. “Told you I’d ruin you.”

You claw at his back, nails dragging over muscle. “You think this is ruined?”

“Nah,” he growls. “This—”

He lifts you higher, fucks you harder, your body rocking against the glass like a scene out a movie—

“—this is mine.”

⸻

Later, you’re in his shirt, sitting on the kitchen counter, eating mango..

He’s between your legs again, lazily kissing your neck, talking shit.

“You know you ain’t never leaving me, right?”

You pop a piece of fruit into your mouth. “You ain’t never getting me caught up, either.”

He grins. “We’ll see.”

⸻

You know it’s wrong.

You’re a prosecutor. He’s a drug dealer.

Your whole job is to bury men like him.

But when he’s inside you?

When he calls you counselor in that deep, taunting voice?

When he whispers “ain’t nobody ever fucked you like this, huh?” with his tongue on your clit?

Justice don’t feel like it used to.

⸻

And maybe that’s the real crime.

[ultralspblr]

ABBOTT FANFIC!!!!!! MAKE SOME NOISE!!!!!

𝖥𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄

𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀－𝖬𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗒 𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖺 𝗑 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒－It’s the chaotic first week back at Abbott, and just when you think you’ve dodged all distractions, District golden boy Manny Rivera shows up—looking good, talking smooth, and leaving behind a flirty little care package in the teacher’s lounge. You try to play it cool, but the staff (especially Ava) catches on fast.

𝖠／𝖭－𝖨 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖽𝗄 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗎𝗆 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾 is his name rivera or Castillo???

First week back at Abbott and the chaos is already in full swing.

You’ve already chased down a kindergartener who somehow got into the supply closet, comforted a third grader who “accidentally” glued their hand to the desk, and fielded two emails from Janine trying to organize a “Back to School Positivity Parade.” It’s not even lunch yet.

So when Ava strolls down the hallway, heels clicking, phone in hand’, and announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, tighten up—District’s in the building,” you sigh.

Of course they are.

And of course he’s with them.

Manny Rivera.

District golden boy.

That same cool, composed energy in a freshly tailored suit, shirt crisp, smile charming but calculated. He’s walking down the hall like he’s in a campaign ad, shaking hands, nodding at teachers, asking the occasional well-timed question like he actually cares.

You try to slip into your classroom before he sees you. You don’t need the distraction—not this week, not with a new class full of wide-eyed kids who still think you’re some kind of superhero.

But luck’s never really on your side.

“Ms. [Last Name],” comes that smooth voice, right behind you. “Still holding Abbott together?”

You stop, hand still on your classroom door, and turn. “Only with duct tape and prayer.”

He grins. “Still works though, doesn’t it?”

He looks good. Too good.

“You checking on us or micromanaging?” you ask, brow raised.

“Depends,” he says, stepping a little closer. “You behaving?”

You scoff. “I’m a teacher in Philly. I don’t have time to misbehave.”

His eyes flick over you—your worn ID badge, your dry-erase marker-stained fingers, the coffee stain you tried (and failed) to hide on your blouse—and still, he gives you that look. That one that used to unravel you when y’all were sneaking around after hours at that conference last spring.

“You look good,” he says low.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t flirt with me in front of my kids’ crayon portraits, Rivera.”

He laughs, then glances over your shoulder and sobers up quick when he sees Ava watching from down the hall.

“Come by the teacher’s lounge during your prep,” he says, already backing away. “I left something for you.”

“Like what?” you call after him.

He just smiles over his shoulder. “You’ll see.”

⸻

You try not to go.

You really do. But curiosity is a stronger force than professionalism.

When you finally sneak down to the lounge during prep, it’s empty—except for a little white box with your name on it sitting on the table.

Inside? A brand-new pack of your favorite pens, a small bottle of ibuprofen, a $25 Starbucks card… and a sticky note in his handwriting:

For the teacher holding this place together. Sorry I disappeared. Coffee soon?

You stare at it for a second, lips twitching.

That man is still a distraction. But damn if he doesn’t know you too well.

⸻

You’re still in the lounge, staring down at that sticky note like it’s got the answer to every adult decision you’re trying not to make. He wants coffee? After not seeing you all summer? After showing up with his little district clipboard and those brown eyes that act like they didn’t break your no-men-from-work rule?

Please.

You tuck the note back in the box, about to leave, when you hear footsteps.

“Mmm-hmm.”

You turn. And immediately regret it.

Barbara. Melissa. Janine. And Ava. All standing in the doorway like a panel of judgmental aunties on a commercial break.

Barbara’s arms are folded. Melissa’s chewing gum with a knowing smirk. Janine looks like she’s about to explode from sheer nosy energy. And Ava?

Ava’s already recording.

“Delete that,” you say automatically.

“Oh I will,” Ava hums, not moving her thumb, “right after I find out what got you cheesin’ like that over office supplies. That a love letter in there? A lil’ administrative booty call?”

Barbara steps forward with that motherly authority. “Is that from Mr. Rivera? From the District?”

You freeze. Janine lets out a little squeal.

“Oh my gosh, do you know him like know know him?” she asks. “Because when he walked in earlier, you were definitely looking at him like he was a slice of school pizza with the good crust.”

Melissa cackles. “That girl was looking at him like she forgot how to pray.”

You groan, covering your face.

“I wasn’t looking at him.”

“Yes, you were,” Barbara says firmly, like she’s calling out a student for lying about eating glue.

“He left her a lil’ gift box,” Ava adds, leaning down to peer in. “Oop—Starbucks gift card. That’s a man who knows how to apologize.”

Barbara shakes her head. “I don’t like it. District men always show up with charm and policy, then leave with less funding and more headaches.”

Janine perks up. “But what if he’s different? Like a reformer? Like the Freedom Writers but in a suit?”

“Girl, what?” Melissa side-eyes her.

You finally speak. “Y’all—it’s nothing. I’m not getting into anything with Manny.”

Ava raises an eyebrow. “That’s not what your eyes said when he walked in all tall and fine, smelling like district benefits.”

You snatch the box off the table. “I hate all of you.”

“Love you too, boo!” Ava calls after you. “Wear that black dress next time he visits! You know the one!”

As you hurry out, you can hear them behind you—laughing, whispering, plotting.

But the worst part?

You’re still smiling.

Because Manny Rivera might be a walking headache,

…but he still makes your heart skip.

[ultralspblr]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬

Pairing-ModerndayAU-Elias*Stack*Moore x Black reader

Summary-you meet stacks family

A\N-Instead of working on my smoke ff i decided to write stack since I haven’t done it in a while

You swore you weren’t nervous. But the second you pulled up to Smoke Moore’s house—a mansion draped in security cameras, low-rumbling music, and enough high-end cars to pass for a dealership—your stomach did a flip.

Stack reached over and squeezed your thigh, that cocky smirk on his lips. “Relax, baby. They not gonna bite.”

“You said that about your damn dog,” you muttered, adjusting your dress. Tight. Short. Stack-approved. “And he still barked like I owed him money.”

He laughed, head thrown back. “That’s ’cause King can smell fear. Just like my family.”

You shot him a look. “Not funny.”

Stack just leaned over and kissed you, slow and full of heat, like he had all the time in the world to ease your nerves. “You my girl. They gon’ love you. And if they don’t—who gives a fuck? You with me.”

That should’ve calmed you. Instead, it made your heart race worse.

⸻

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐮𝐭

Smoke’s backyard was damn near a block party.

Music boomed from oversized speakers, smoke curled from a grill manned by a guy who looked like he could break bones with one hand and flip ribs with the other. Bottles of D’USSÉ and Casamigos lined the bar. Women laughed. Kids ran around. You clocked more than one Glock bulge under fitted shirts.

Stack guided you through the chaos like it was nothing, dap-tapping guys with gold chains and hand tattoos. But the moment y’all hit the patio, it felt like the music dimmed.

There he was.

Smoke.

Stacks’ older brother. The name carried weight in the city. Gunshots stopped when Smoke walked into a room.

He stood beside the grill, shirtless under an open designer button-up, arms covered in tattoos, puffing on a cigar. And next to him, Aliyah.

She was beautiful. That kind of “soft but don’t try me” beauty. Lace front laid, nails sharp, her little waist snatched in some designer two-piece. She clocked you the second you stepped up.

“Oh, so this the one you keep sneakin’ out for?” Smoke said to Stack, looking you up and down. He turned to you. “You got a name, pretty girl?”

You held your ground. “(Y/N).”

“Mm.” Smoke nodded slowly. “Cute. You from around here?”

“Uptown,” you said carefully.

Aliyah raised an eyebrow, sipped her drink, then gave you a slow once-over. “You rich-rich, huh?”

You smiled tight. “I am.”

“You got any priors?” Aliyah asked, crossing her arms, curious now.

“Just heartbreak,” you said smoothly. “But I’m sure your husband knows all about breaking people.”

Smoke let out another laugh. “She bold.”

Aliyah finally smiled, a slow, approving smirk. “I like her.”

Stack damn near lit up like Christmas. “Told y’all.”

⸻

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

You were sitting on the deck with a plate of ribs and baked mac, catching your breath, when another voice spoke from behind you.

“You know you’re the first girl he ever brought around.”

You turned to see Sammie, all gold teeth and babyface charm, a blunt in one hand, red cup in the other.

“Is that supposed to be comforting or a red flag?”

He laughed. “Could go either way.”

Then came the other one—Delta Slim. Smiling, tall, old drunk. “Just don’t hurt him,” he said, looking you dead in the eye. “Stack acts tough, but…he loves hard. And stupid.”

You raised your brow. “And I don’t?”

Sammie whistled. “Ooooh. She feisty.”

Delta grunted, smiling. “She good.”

That’s when Stack came up behind you, slid into the seat beside you, and threw an arm over your shoulders.

“Look at my girl makin’ friends,” he teased.

“Your girl got hands,” Sammie said. “Aliyah told me she almost squared up with that one chick by the cooler.”

“She bumped me on purpose,” you said.

Stack grinned. “That’s my type.”

⸻

The party was still going, but you’d stepped away for a moment. The beat of the music thumped through the ground, bass rumbling in your chest as kids ran around with Capri Sun and adults swapped shots like currency.

You were leaning against the balcony railing off Smoke’s upstairs den, nursing a drink Sammie mixed for you—heavy on the liquor, light on the warning.

Stack slid up behind you, arms coming around your waist like he couldn’t help it. “You good?”

You nodded, watching the scene below. “Yeah. Just needed a second.”

“Too much South Side energy for your uptown blood?” he teased, kissing your shoulder.

You smiled. “No. Just watching. Thinking.”

“’ Bout what?”

You pointed with your chin. “Them.”

Below, across the backyard, Aliyah was curled up on Smoke’s lap under a canopy, laughing at something Sammie said. Smoke was holding her like the world might try to snatch her at any moment. His hand was on her thigh, protective. Possessive. But soft. Like he knew her in and out, and loved all the ugly, anyway.

“They been like that all night,” you said. “Even when she talks shit to him—he still looks at her like she hung the moon.”

Stack followed your gaze, jaw ticking like he was thinking deeper than he wanted to admit. “That’s Smoke. Always been like that when it came to her. Don’t matter what’s goin’ on—some raid, some drama, some fuck-up with one of the crews—Aliyah come in the room? Everything else fades out.”

You took a slow sip of your drink. “She holds him down.”

“She built him up,” Stack said, tone low. “Back when he was still wild as hell. Back when he ain’t have the name he got now.”

You looked over your shoulder at him. “You ever want that?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “What? A ride or die?”

“No. That kind of love. That…safe kind. The kind where it feels like y’all against the world.”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping. “You think we ain’t already there?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Because maybe you hadn’t thought about it that way.

Maybe you’d gotten so caught up in the diamonds, the drama, the “are we or aren’t we” energy he carried like cologne… that you didn’t notice he’d already been showing up like you were his.

“Smoke wasn’t always soft with her,” Stack said, eyes fixed on his brother. “They fought. Loud. Walked away, came back. But he never let her go. Even when she tried to leave, he followed.”

You bit your lip. “And you?”

He smiled slow. “I don’t plan on lettin’ you go either. So, run if you want, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to face him fully. “You don’t even know if I’m staying.”

Stack cupped your jaw, his voice barely above a whisper. “Then why you still here?”

You didn’t have an answer.

Didn’t need one.

He kissed you slow, the kind of kiss that said he already knew.

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞’𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐲

You leaned against Stack’s Range Rover as the night wound down, watching the glow of the backyard fade into soft streetlights. Stack stood in front of you, thumb brushing your cheek.

“You good?”

You nodded, surprised by how good you felt. Welcomed. A little roasted. But solid.

“They’re a lot,” you murmured.

“They’re mine,” he said. “And now…so are you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Then I guess I’ll have to hold my own.”

He kissed you slow, heat humming between you even under the moonlight.

From the porch, Smoke’s voice boomed, “Y’all bet not be makin’ me no uncle tonight!”

Stack flipped him off without breaking the kiss.

You laughed.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like maybe this chaos—chaos-this wild, loyal, dangerous family—might just be home.

As you and Stack got ready to go 

Aliyah caught your eye across the yard, a sly little grin tugging at her glossed lips. She raised her cup to you like a silent I see you.

You smirked, raising yours back.

Because if anybody understood what it meant to love a Moore boy—dangerous, loud, loyal, stubborn—it was her.

And tonight? You realized you might just be starting to understand it, too.

[ultralspblr]

𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞

Pairing-ModernAU-Smoke&Stack x Black reader

Summary-You are the twins sugar baby

A/N-Ive never wrote anything like this before so bare with me hun

One twin? Maybe. You’ve dealt with bold men before — men who liked pretty things on their arms, who flashed cash and promises like candy. Stack seemed like another one of those: flashy, cocky, dipped in gold and danger. All mouth, all muscle, all that swagger that made girls stupid.

But two?

Two was asking for trouble. The kind that you don’t just flirt with. The kind that drags you in by the throat and makes you say thank you.

Now you’re sitting pretty in the back of a black Escalade with tinted windows and heated leather seats. Stack’s hand is on your thigh, thumb tracing circles higher than it should while he scrolls through his phone. Smoke’s behind the wheel — silent, always — but you can feel his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror, watching. Measuring.

You shift just slightly, tug at the hem of your silk skirt.

And Stack smirks like he knows exactly what you’re doing. Like he’s already planning to ruin it later.

Trouble? Yeah. You’re drowning in it.

But trouble comes with a black card, a diamond tennis bracelet, and your name engraved on the inside of a Louis Vuitton bag.

⸻

Stack spoils you loud.

He’s the type to drag you through the most expensive store in the city and dare the clerk to ask about a limit. Neon signs, loud music, top-floor penthouse parties — he wants you to be seen. Wants people to know who you belong to. “Pick what you want, baby. Matter of fact, pick two. I like you in options.”

He drives too fast. Tips too much. Kisses you like he’s claiming you with every bite.

And when he’s not around? Smoke is.

⸻

Smoke spoils you quiet.

He sends the money before you can ask. The rent’s paid. Your tuition? Covered. Your account balance rises in silence, like a tide — consistent, steady, impossible to ignore. One morning you woke up to a car in your driveway. Not flashy — matte, black, sleek. Clean. Practical. With a note tucked into the cupholder:

“No excuses now. Be on time.”

You remembered telling Smoke how you're always late for the bus

He doesn’t text much. Just enough.

Be home by ten.

Wear the black dress.

Leave the door unlocked.

And you follow every instruction.

Every time.

⸻

You float between them, somewhere in that sweet spot between indulgence and obsession. Draped in designer. Laced in perfumes you can’t pronounce. Lipstick shades picked out by Stack, lingerie sets folded neatly by Smoke.

Marked by both.

Your lips are bruised from one. Your thighs tremble from the other. You wake up with one name in your mouth and fall asleep with the other still on your skin.

They don’t fight. They don’t ask.

Because they both know the answer.

Everyone in the city whispers when you walk into a room. From the street girls to the CEOs — they see the watch on your wrist and the curve of that smirk you always wear, and they know.

Whose girl is she?

The answer’s simple.

Theirs.

⸻

Your phone buzzes at 11:01PM.

Two notifications.

Transfer received: $10,000 — “For being pretty.”

Transfer received: $10,000 — “Because you listened.”

You smile, curl deeper into the plush hotel bedding, and take another sip of wine that cost more than your rent used to.

Then you press Add to savings.

You were never the good girl. Never the quiet one. But somehow, being a little bad never paid so good.

And with both Moore twins wrapped around your finger?

You’re just getting started.

[ultralspblr]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬

Pairing-ModernGangAU-Elijah*Smoke*Moore x Black reader

Summary-Smoke accidentally pocket dial his wife while out doing wrong

A/N- I’ve been putting this off for like days I’ve been super tired and not really feeling the writing/I was gonna make the shaderoom post but I need to find a picture

Part(2)-whatever it takes(2)

It started with a pocket call.

Not a bullet. Not a knife. Not a raid.

Just his damn phone — unlocked, deep in his jacket while he was leaned up too close to some girl at that bar on the South Side. She was laughing, whispering something into his ear, and Smoke? He wasn’t pushing her away.

[1 missed call from baby]

He froze

Then another call came

He ignored it, moving the women aside, he stood up, leaving the club, seeing the paparazzi.

“It started with a pocket call (Call, call, call)”

“Smartphones, dumb shit”

And now, as he stood in the dimly lit hallway of their high-rise penthouse, phone still buzzing in his hand with notifications from social media, his brother, and some messy post he’d been tagged in, Smoke’s heart hammered louder than any gunfight he’d ever been in. The words from the other end echoed in his head like a curse.

“Hello? Smoke? What the fuck is this?” He replayed the words in his head as he answered the phone while driving back to their penthouse.

He knew she had seen the post 

“Hello? Trey?”

“Oh, oh, oh, oh… She picks up the phone / In my head, I know I’m wrong.”

He paces outside the penthouse door like a man who knows he’s already lost but still shows up to fight. Inside, she’s probably packing. Or breaking shit. Or crying. Maybe all three.

Smoke ain’t scared of death. Ain’t scared of cops or feds or even the streets turning on him.

But losing her?

That’s a different kind of lost.

“I’m pacing back and forth / ‘Cause I know that I’ve been caught / Trying to think of the perfect words”

He opens the door carefully, because he knows he now have to face her.

“Baby.”

She doesn’t look at him. Her back is turned, bags half-packed, a shattered glass on the kitchen floor glinting like a warning.

He can see the Shadroom's post on her phone, a picture of him and the girl

Her on his lap 

Him smirking 

His hand on her waist 

Her looking smug

“I heard everything, Smoke.”

Her voice is ice, steady — but that’s how he knows she’s on the edge. Rage doesn’t shake. Silence does.

“So I can come to her and lie right to her face / I don’t know what I’m gonna say / But I know that I’m gonna say / Whatever it takes”

He steps forward, arms open like they’ll fix what’s already snapped between them.

“Listen… it wasn’t what it sounded like.”

She turns, and her eyes, usually so full of love for him, are hollow.

“Then what was it? A joke? Some gang bullshit? You're out here running an empire, but you can’t even keep your vows straight.”

“I’m here at home waiting on you while you out here playing in bitches face.”

His throat goes dry. Smoke, the man who’s taken down armed enemies, silenced traitors, stared judges in the eye without blinking, has no words for her.

So he lies. The same lie he used all the time, the same two words he’ll never mean

“I’ll change.”

“I could say it was a joke, but who am I kidding? She ain’t slow”

“Only way to make it right / Is if I come to her and lie right to her face”

Because that’s what the song said, right? “Whatever it takes.” hell, he’ll  even beg, get on his knees, praying she won't leave him 

“It was nothin’. Just some girl talkin’ slick. I ain’t touched her. I didn’t even want to be there. Someone called me out, and I got dragged into it. You know how this life is.”

He’s pleading now. Voice low, eyes locked on hers. Desperation disguised as sincerity.

“I messed up. I shoulda have walked away. I know I did wrong. But I didn’t mean it. Not like that.”

“I’ma run to her and lie right to her face / I don’t know what I’m gonna say / But I know that I’m gonna say / Whatever it takes”

She walks to the counter, picks up her phone, and plays the recording again. That stupid, accidental call. Laughter. Him telling another woman the same things he told her. Smoke’s voice — relaxed, playful, too familiar.

“That’s you, Smoke. Not drunk-you. Not ‘caught up’ you. That’s you being real. With her. Same shit you told me.”

He wants to tell her it meant nothing. That she’s the only one who knows the man behind the name. That he’d burn the world for her.

But he knows she won’t buy it. Because the truth had already hit her ears raw.

And still, he fights.

“Whatever it takes, baby. I’ll fix this. You want out? I’ll leave the streets. I’ll shut it down. No more runs. No more heat. No more blood. Just us. I swear.”

Oh, gonna tell you /Whatever it takes/Whatever it takes /Whatever it takes/Whatever it takes (Takes)/Whatever it takes

She stares.

Smoke never begged a day in his life. Not when he got shot. Not when Stack got locked up. Not when enemies knock’.

But he’s begging now.

“Please.”

Her hands tremble. Bag still unzipped. Eyes still wet.

She’s at the edge — half in the past where they were ride or die, half in the future where she walks away for good.

“You don’t get it, Smoke. I don’t want you to say whatever it takes. I wanted you to mean it before I had to find out like this.”

“Time is not on our side / ‘Cause she’s waving goodbye goodbye”

“So this is goodbye?”

She nodded, took off the ring, placed it in his hand, and said something about a divorce—but he wasn’t listening.

And with that, she walks out.

The door doesn’t slam. It clicks shut, quiet, final.

Smoke stands in the middle of the room, alone, surrounded by everything he built, but suddenly nothing that matters.

His phone buzzes again. Not her.

Just business.

He doesn’t answer.

This ain’t a war he can win with bullets.

This is the one that might kill him.

He looked at his phone. 

Stack had called twice.

Sammie sent one text: “you fucked up”

“Smartphones, dumb shit / Oh, no, ooh-oh-oh / Oh, man I got to think of something / I’m about to lose it all”

[ultralspblr]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬(𝟐)

Pairing-ModernGangAU-Elijah*Smoke*Moore x Black reader

Summary-This is part two to whatever it takes where smoke tried to win you back

A/N-idk if I wanna keep dragging it or whatever but I think this has a good ending let me know if you guys want like idk a few years in the future

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

The bass thumped through the pavement like a second heartbeat, steady and loud, drowning out most thoughts but not the ones Smoke needed drowned the most.

Southside’s annual block party was in full swing — grills smoking, kids playing, cars lined with candy paint gleaming under the sun. The kind of day that used to feel like freedom. Now it just felt like noise.

Smoke stood between Stacks and Sammie near the back gate, arms crossed, black tee and pants. He wasn’t drinking. Wasn’t smoking. Just watching. Waiting. For what, he didn’t know.

“Man, you could at least pretend to have a good time,” Sammie muttered, nudging him with an elbow.

Smoke didn’t respond. Stacks, always more blunt, spoke through the rim of his solo cup. “You actin’ like you ain’t the one that fucked up. Don’t come out here brooding like the world did you dirty.”

“I ain’t broodin’,” Smoke said, but the words didn’t carry much conviction.

“Then why you lookin’ at the entrance like a dog waitin’ for his owner to come back?”

Sammie chuckled. “She got you whipped, man.”

Stacks gave Sammie a look. “He knows. But that don’t change the fact that she was the only one who kept his head on straight.”

Smoke glanced down at his phone again. No messages. Nothing from her since that night. He hadn’t unfollowed her, hadn’t blocked her number. He wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

And then—like a ripple in the crowd—something changed.

Heads turned. Voices shifted. Whispers started.

She walked in.

And she wasn’t alone. Four girls walked with her — all confident, sandals making noises, laughter too loud not to be intentional. She wasn’t trying to sneak in quiet. She wanted to be seen.

Smoke’s chest went tight.

Her shorts was short. Crop top showed half of her midriff. trouble. Like “don’t you dare forget what you lost.”

He didn’t move at first. Just watched her, watched the way she laughed with her friends, the way her eyes scanned the crowd but never once landed on him.

“She really showed up,” Sammie muttered. “Damn.”

Stacks whistled low. “She fine, but that energy? That’s vengeance.”

Smoke started walking. Not fast. Not dramatic. Just deliberate, cutting through the crowd like it parted for him.

She saw him halfway there.

Didn’t run. Didn’t smile.

Just watched him.

He stopped a few feet in front of her. The music faded in his ears, crowd nothing but background now.

“Hey.”

That one word, all he could push out. Like it might undo everything.

Her eyes narrowed, arms folded like armor. “Hey?” she echoed, mock-sweet. “That’s what you got?”

He swallowed. Looked at her, really looked.

“You look good.”

“Mhm,” she mumbled. Her friends stood behind her like sentinels, watching, silent.

“I just wanted to say—”

She cut him off. “Don’t. Not right now, Elijah.”

Smoke took a breath. “Then where?”

She stepped in closer. Just enough for her voice to drop and stab between his ribs. “You had your shot. You fucked up.”

He flinched.

Her voice was soft, but that was worse. “And now you wanna chase me like I’m just another corner to control?”

“I’m not chasing. I’m owning it.”

She stared for a long time. “Too late, Elijah.”

He looked at her friends, then back at her. “You really done?”

She tilted her head. “I’m healing. And that doesn’t include you right now.”

Stacks and Sammie watched from afar, both still, both quiet.

Smoke’s jaw clenched. “You ever think maybe we still worth saving?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But not by me.”

And then she turned. Walked past him, leaving the scent of shea butter and vanilla trailing in her wake.

Smoke just stood there.

No guns. No sirens. No betrayals.

Just a man at a party surrounded by his crew, with nothing to celebrate.

Stacks came up beside him. “Told yo ass”

Smoke didn’t answer.

Sammie whistled. “Man, summer don’t hit the same when you the villain.”

Smoke looked down at his phone.

One new message.

Not from her.

Just business.

He didn’t open it.

He lit a blunt, eyes on the crowd.

And for the first time, he realized

This wasn’t just about losing her.

It was about who he’d have to become to ever get her back.

Smoke didn’t move.

Her perfume still lingered like a challenge. Like a dare.

The crowd swallowed her, but his eyes followed — like a man caught between wanting to chase and knowing he’d lost the right to.

Stacks clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Take time, man.”

Sammie leaned in, sipping on a Hennessy in his plastic cup, “She said she healing, not she done. That’s something.”

Smoke shook his head. “It’s not the same.”

And it wasn’t.

He felt it when her eyes met his — that shift in the atmosphere. The weight of everything they hadn’t said pressing down like heat on his back.

She hadn’t come to make peace.

She came to prove she didn’t need to.

⸻

Meanwhile…

She laughed again, too loud, too on purpose, sipping from a bottle she hadn’t paid for. Her girls surrounded her, feeding her that “you-glow-girl” energy, but her heart wasn’t in it.

Every beat of the music reminded her of him. Smoke. Elijah. Whatever name he wanted to be today.

She could still feel him watching.

And God, it still hurt.

Not the mistake — not even the other woman. No. The pain was rooted in the lie he almost made her believe: that she was the only part of his life untouched by the game.

She wasn’t stupid. She’d grown up around the same streets, same corners, same codes.

But she’d thought she was different to him.

Until that post.

Until that picture.

Until the silence after.

Her homegirls knew the story. They were the only reason she was even at this party. “Be seen,” they said. “Remind him what he lost.”

But that was the problem.

She didn’t want to be just the thing he lost.

She wanted to be the thing he protected before it ever came to this.

⸻

Back near the gate

Smoke smoked the blunt, leaning against the gate. He hadn’t smoked in weeks. Not since she walked out. He could taste the weed.

His phone buzzed again. Stack glanced over.

“You really not gonna look?”

“I’m tired of calls I don’t wanna,” Smoke muttered.

Sammie raised a brow. “Then go talk to the one you do.”

“She told me not to.”

“Since when do you listen?”

Stacks gave a look. “Since he learned the hard way that ‘whatever it takes’ ain’t always enough.”

There was a pause between them. Just bass and the sound of cars bumping past, kids yelling by the bounce house, smoke rolling from grills.

“I wasn’t just saying it,” Smoke finally said, voice low. “I meant it. I’d leave it all for her.”

“Then why haven’t you?” Stacks asked.

That silence?

That was the answer.

Because wanting to change and changing are two different beasts.

⸻

Later, toward the sunset…

The block party had slowed. Sky pinking at the edges. Streetlights flickered on.

She stood by the DJ booth now, sipping water, her earrings dangling from her hand. Her friends were off chasing some men, but she lingered. Maybe waiting. Maybe just not ready to leave.

Smoke finally moved.

He walked up, slow, careful — not begging, not selling. Just showing up.

“I ain’t here to make you forget,” he said quietly.

She didn’t turn. But she didn’t walk away either.

“I just wanted to say… if you ever ask me again, ‘what are we’ — I’m done giving answers. I’m gonna start proving them.”

She looked at him then. Eyes tired, guarded, but curious.

“Talk is cheap, Elijah.”

“I know. That’s why I’m done talkin’.”

He handed her something. A small, black velvet box.

She hesitated. “Don’t tell me it’s that ring. That’s too late and way too corny.”

He smirked. “It’s a key. To a spot I’m getting out on the Westside. Quiet. Legit.”

She opened it. Inside — not a key to a trap house, not one to his penthouse. This one was plain. Clean. Real estate agent’s tag still attached.

“Leaving the game?” she asked.

“I already lost you. I ain’t trying to lose me too.”

She stared at him. A long moment.

The bass behind them dropped.

Sunlight kissed her shoulders.

His chest ached like a man praying for a second chance in a world that rarely gives one.

Finally, she closed the box. Held it in her hand.

Didn’t say yes.

Didn’t say no.

Just

“You do it. You get clean. Then we talk.”

She walked past him again.

This time, the goodbye didn’t sting.

It felt like a maybe.

It had been six months.

No headlines.

No Shadroom posts.

No bodies dropped.

No street whispers with Smoke’s name in them.

He’d gone silent — not dead, just different.

Stacks was the first to believe him. Sammie took longer. But eventually even they had to admit it: Smoke wasn’t just laying low. He was done.

He poured money into a new studio idea Sammie had been dreaming about since high school. 

And most of all, he stayed away from the trap houses.

Didn’t call her. Didn’t text. Didn’t show up.

He told himself, if she comes back, it’s gotta be because she wants to. Not because he chased her down or cornered her with guilt.

But some things don’t fade.

Some names still live behind your ribs.

Some promises echo every time you look at the person you used to be and don’t see them anymore.

⸻

It was a Sunday. Warm. Quiet. Her block always was.

Stacks sat in the passenger seat of the Range Rover, arms crossed, watching Smoke adjust the radio.

“You sure about this?”

Smoke didn’t look up. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

Sammie leaned in from the backseat, grinning. “You finally playin’ the long game.”

“I was the game,” Smoke muttered. “Now I’m just a man.”

He hit play.

Boyz II Men – “On Bended Knee” spilled out the speakers, loud but not obnoxious, old school, bleeding honesty in every harmony.

Can we go back to the days our love was strong?

Can you tell me how a perfect love goes wrong…

Stacks exhaled. “You really gonna do the ‘90s R&B grand gesture?”

Smoke chuckled. “It’s not for me. It’s for her. So she knows I ain’t just sayin’ it anymore.”

He stepped out.

No flowers. No fancy suit.

Just grey sweatpants, clean Jordans, a fresh cut, and clarity.

He walked up the path to her porch, music humming behind him like a memory. Her car was there. Light in the living room on.

He knocked.

The kind of knock that don’t demand.

Just asks.

⸻

She opened the door slow.

Hair wrapped, oversized tee, no makeup. She wasn’t expecting company. Especially not him.

Her mouth parted, shocked — not because he showed up, but because of what she saw..

No tension.

No storm in his eyes.

Just peace.

And that song behind him, still playing, like it had been stuck in his chest all year.

Can somebody tell me how to get things back the way they used to be?

Oh God, give me a reason… I’m down on bended knee

“Elijah…”

“I’m not here to beg,” he said quickly. “Not again.”

She stepped onto the porch, heart hammering. “Then why are you here?”

“I just want you to know… I kept my word. I’m out. For real.”

She blinked. “You serious?”

He nodded. “You can ask Stacks. Ask Sammie. Hell, ask my landlord. I got a regular lease now, with a deposit and everything.”

She cracked a smile — just a little.

“I didn’t call ‘cause I wanted to fix me first. I ain’t asking for you back.”

He pause.

“…Unless you want to come back.”

He reached into his jacket. Not a gift. Not a ring.

Just the key she’d held in her palm six months ago — the one to his new life. Except this time, it was on her keychain.

He handed it over.

“I kept it safe. Like I kept my promise.”

She stared down at it. Then back up at him.

“No more lies?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“No more life without you,” he said. “But only if you still want to be part of mine.”

Stacks leaned against the Range, arms crossed, watching. Sammie wiped an invisible tear and laughed at himself for it.

And her?

She didn’t run. Didn’t cry. Didn’t hesitate.

She just stepped forward.

His head in her chest.

She Whispered

“You showed up right.”

⸻

Inside the house, minutes later…

They lay in her bedroom, Gerald Levert on her record player.

The music faded to the last chorus. The sun dipped behind the skyline.

And for the first time in a long time…

Smoke didn’t feel haunted.

He felt at home.

Tag- @christinabae @thepenumbra76

[ultralspblr]

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐚

Pairing-Elijah*Smoke*Moore x Black reader

Summary- you’ve finally met your match

A/N- I wanted there to be a part two but I don’t think it needs one

I think I wanna do an instagram post thing I’ve seen mutuals doing it and I think it’s cool

He wasn’t the man your mama warned you about.

He was the man your mama prayed you never met.

Dark-skinned, tatted, six-foot-something with a gold smile that matched the bullets in his clip. Drove a matte black AMG like he owned the pavement. Talked slick, walked smoother, smelled like Dior and gunpowder.

A trappin’-ass, country-ass, never-switch-up-on-the-gang-ass nigga.

Exactly the kind you swore you’d never fall for.

And you? You weren’t soft. You had your own bag, your own attitude, your own reasons for not trusting anybody. People called you stuck-up, unbothered, hard to impress. And you were.

Until he came through.

It was late, the city hot with summer, the music too loud, the club too packed. You sat in your section surrounded by girls who talked too much and men who couldn’t afford to look your way. You were halfway done with your drink when you felt it—that stare.

Head turned. Eyes met. And there he was.

Smoke.

Leaning on the wall like he had nowhere to be and everyone owed him something. Chains glinting, jaw tight, eyes on you like he’d been waiting for the moment all night.

“You keep starin’, ma. Might as well come sit on somethin’.”

You rolled your eyes—but you moved.

Always did when it came to him.

He pulled you onto his lap like you weighed nothing, palms spreading across your thigh, voice low in your ear.

“Heard you like ‘em with motion. I am the motion.”

That night turned into weeks.

Late night pull-ups. Cash on the dresser. Your name in his mouth while you rode him in backrooms of strip clubs he lowkey owned. You ain’t post each other—but everybody knew.

He made sure of it.

Whispers in the city: Smoke got a girl now. The baddest one. Don’t even look her way unless you ready to die.

He took care of you without askin’.

Hair, nails, rent, tuition—you ain’t lift a finger unless it was to count the stacks he left on your dresser.

And the sex?

Ruthless.

He picked you up when he fucked you. Spoke in tongues against your skin. Pressed his gun into your back like a reminder: this ain’t no regular nigga.

You weren’t supposed to fall.

But you did. Hard. Quiet. Deep.

In love with a man who talked more with his hands than his mouth.

A man who kissed you like it might be the last time every time.

A man who never said I love you but always showed up when the world went quiet.

So when he looked you in the eyes, his voice barely a whisper as he said—

“You mine now. Act like it.”

you didn’t argue.

You smiled.

Took his Glock.

And rode shotgun.

Because when Smoke said something, he meant it.

A man of few words but heavy presence. He didn’t do all that back and forth—he moved with purpose. When he said you his, it wasn’t a question or a compliment. It was law.

You weren’t his girlfriend.

You were his partner.

His peace and his pressure.

Days with him were quiet—money being counted, plays being made. Nights? Loud. Wild. Fast cars, red lights, clubs, and chaos. You two were a walking contradiction: savage and softness. He’d kiss you like you were his lifeline, then cock his gun without blinking.

He never told you where he was going, but he never left without holding your face and tapping your chin with a soft “Be good.”

Sometimes he came back bloodied.

Sometimes he came back distant.

But he always came back.

And when he did, you didn’t press him.

You just lit his blunt, pulled him between your legs, and let him breathe.

You became the girl the other girls hated in silence.

The one who had the respect without having to post a man for clout.

The one who he actually answered the phone for, no matter who was in the room.

“I’m in a meeting.”

“She call? I’ll call y’all back.”

Yeah. That type of loyalty.

And he earned yours too.

You weren’t just pretty. You were real.

You didn’t nag him about the streets; you helped him stay smart.

Checked the cameras when he was gone.

Cleaned the blood off his rings without flinching.

Burned evidence if you had to.

Once, he came home, pacing, silent, clearly rattled.

You ain’t say much. You poured him a drink, sat on the counter, and watched him work through it.

When he finally exhaled, he walked up to you and said, “If anything happen to me, you got the numbers. You know who to trust.”

You nodded. You didn’t cry.

You just pressed your forehead to his and whispered, “Ain’t nothin’ happenin’ to you. You make it outta everything.”

And deep down, that was true.

He wasn’t supposed to make it out of this life.

But somehow, every time they tried to bury him, he came back breathing harder. Stronger. Smarter.

Maybe that’s what made you fall.

Not just the sex.

Not the gifts.

But the way he survived everything, and still had something left to give you.

You learned his rhythms.

When he was about to dip.

When he needed to feel your hands on his chest.

When to talk.

When to ride in silence.

And he learned yours.

The way you needed to be kissed when you got in your moods.

The way your voice dropped when you were pissed.

How to calm you down with just a look.

You weren’t playing house—you were building an empire.

Brick by bloody brick.

Pillow talk with pistols under them.

Plans scribbled on the backs of receipts.

Your loyalty louder than any vow.

And the city knew.

You weren’t the one to mess with.

Because Smoke ain’t just love you—he’d burn this whole bitch down behind you.

So when you stepped out together—him in all black, you in heels, lip gloss shining, Glock in your purse like a wallet—heads turned. Every single time.

He never held your hand.

But he always kept you close.

“Anybody ever touch you wrong, I’m blowin’ the whole block down. Don’t care who there.”

You believed him.

Because he already had.

Love with Smoke wasn’t gentle.

It was sharp. Loud. Loyal.

It was dangerous.

But it was the safest place you’d ever known.

And if this world took him from you?

You’d burn it down yourself.

Because if you had to die behind a nigga, it was gon’ be him.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭- @jessiabrown55 @christinabae @honestmarie @prettygirl2800 @maugustiee @spicypiscesssss @galleryofgabriella @kksmush

[ultralspblr]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫

MDNI

Pairing—Elijah*Smoke*Moore x BlackOC

Summary-Arna and smoke has a secret relationship that no one could know about

"If your goal is to change or fix me, you've already failed."

"Well right now I just want to fuck you," I said, making my intentions clear and he didn't need anymore convincing as his dark eyes burned into mine. In an instant, we closed the distance between our faces. I was not ready for the aggressiveness of his kiss as I tried my best to match his energy. Smoke was demanding, a man knowing what he wanted; his tongue exploring and coaxing mine in a sensual dance. Pulling away from the kiss, he used his teeth to gently bite at my lower lip, pulling the plump flesh into a gentle suckle before letting go. I took over, pressing kisses to his lips and then along his jawline as he turned his head slightly to give me more access.

I could feel my entire body quivering as he reached behind me and unhooked the back my bra. As his eyes locked on me, I slowly and timidly began to lower it, revealing my breasts. Smoke cupped them, seeking the nipples to pinchand rub them between his fingers.

"Come here," he coaxed, our lips met again, kissing, sucking at each other, exchanging muffled moans until I felt my body being lowered, head meeting the wooden desk with the weight of this man falling on top of me. Traveling down, smoke sucked my right nipple gently at first, then greedily, then pulled at it with his teeth before suckling again. I reached down to rub his broad shoulders, desperate to touch him. He moved on to my left breast and I wrapped my legs around him, feeling a chill as my panties got wetter.

Never stopping his attention on my breast, smoke snaked a hand down between my legs, my thighs parted instinctively to his touch. I was already soaking as he pulled my panties aside. I rubbed against his intruding finger, desperate to have something, anything in of me. He buried his thick finger inside of my slippery folds and I felt an instant rush of ecstasy coursing my body. The grip I had on his shoulders loosened as I focused all my attention on his digit. My muscles clamped hard around him as he moved in and out.

He curled his finger against my g-spot and my knees buckled. My breathing became faster, shallower and more ragged. By the feel of my pussy wall fluttering and grasping at his finger, I knew I was close.

"Yes, stay right there," I whimper. He disobeyed, withdrawing his finger. I raised myself slightly on my elbows. "What?"

Smoke responded by crawling down my body and pushing my legs up and back so that he came face to face with my pussy. He plunged forward, sticking his tongue between my lips. I watched, taking it all in....observing his full lips work and his tongue was a snake that slithered all around my clit, occasionally tongue kissing it into his mouth. Once he reintroduced his finger, I lost it, gripping the wooden desk and bit my lips as I came. He continued lapping throughout the climax as I bucked wildly on his face.

The next few minutes were pretty much a blur, gasping for breath, feeling light-headed as all the blood in my body flooded down to meet with his mouth. Small beads of sweat gathered on my forehead and between my breasts and with one hand I gripped firmly at the desk while the other was on the back of his head, my gripping his head. I rocked my hips backwards and forwards with his every touch, encouraging him, fucking his tongue as yet another orgasm built. I yelped and smoke responded accordingly, sucking my clit with conviction, I couldn't breathe as my back arched.

I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my entire life, every part of me was tingling and I could hear my heartbeat thudding in my ears.

Smoke used his arm to pin me down and used his free hand to open his zipper. I didn't even get a look at it as he hovered over me. My curiosity was satisfied when he pushed himself inside.

"Shit!" I heard him say as my walls tightened around his piece. I moaned and lightly scratched his back. Looking up, I'd never seen a more beautiful...no, I'd never seen a more perfect looking man. His eyes were intensely focused on my face and reactions.

Suddenly his demeanour changed. Gripping my hips for leverage, he hit me with a fast hard thrust that almost knocked the wind out of me and made me tighten down on him even more. Every powerful stroke that followed, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, but always hard and deep, ended with a wet slam as skin met skin.

He grabbed hold of my feet and placed them across his shoulders as he continued to fuck me like a man possessed. My legs were squashed between him and me as he forced himself even deeper inside my pussy, damn near jackhammering.

I loved the way he felt inside, completely hard, full and thick as his balls slammed against me. Our bodies melted into one as the perfect rhythm was set. In very short order I was panting hard, humping along just as fast as I could, determined to keep up with him. I'd always seen sex as enjoyable but never really mind-blowing. This was everything I'd never known I'd been missing. I kept mumbling "yes" over and over again like a mantra. I never wanted our sweaty union to end. But it did.

Sweat was dripping from his brow as he drilled me. I moved with him, urging him deeper and deeper inside me. Then there was that moment when everything stopped. I looked up at him and he looked down at me. I gave in. My pussy squeezed, milking him as I shook underneath him. He hissed through his teeth, muscles tensing as he released inside of me. When we'd both finished cumming he collapsed on top of me. His cock was still inside me as our tongues explored each other's mouths.

Our little secret.

[ultralspblr]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫'𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧

Pairing-SmokexStack x Shy reader

MDNI

Summary-A shy, untouched girl finds herself between Smoke and Stack—two dangerous men who’ve been watching her for a while. One night, they finally make their move, promising to be gentle…but teaching her everything but soft.

A/N- Hello it’s been a while 😼

You weren’t supposed to be here.

You weren’t supposed to be sitting on Smoke’s bed between him and Stack, thighs squeezed together under your little sundress, fingers tugging at the hem nervously while they looked at you like a snack they’d been starving for.

“Tell the truth,” Smoke murmured, voice deep and quiet, like he didn’t want to scare you — but still sounded like a threat. “You wore this for us.”

Your eyes dropped to the floor. “N-no…”

Stack laughed, low and smooth. “You always lie that soft?”

You shook your head.

“You ever let a man touch you, baby?” Smoke asked, brushing his knuckles against your bare thigh.

Your voice barely came out. “Not really…”

“Not really,” Stack repeated, grinning. “That mean yes or no?”

You swallowed. “No…”

They looked at each other.

Then Smoke leaned in and kissed your neck, slow. Soft. “You scared?”

“A little.”

He smiled against your skin. “That’s alright. We’ll take our time.”

Now you were in Stacks  lap, facing Smoke, thighs shaking as they slowly touched all the places you never let anybody else touch before. You were already half-naked, your pretty little sundress bunched up around your waist, and your panties shoved to the side.

“You ever let somebody see you like this before, baby?” Smoke asked, dragging his fingers down your belly.

You shook your head.

“Nah,” Stack murmured against your ear, hands gripping your hips. “She’s too fuckin’ good for that. Ain’t that right?”

“I… I’ve never done anything like this,” you admitted.

Stack smiled like the devil. “That’s alright. We gon’ teach you.”

Stack’s hands ran up your thighs, pushing your dress up as he kissed along your collarbone.

Smoke sat in front of you, watching the way your chest rose and fell faster.

“You so pretty like this,” he whispered. “All nervous and sweet.”

“I’ve never… with two people,” you admitted, voice trembling.

“We know,” Smoke said. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’ you don’t want to.”

“But you want it, don’t you?” Stack added. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

You hesitated. Then nodded, cheeks hot.

Smoke slipped your dress off your shoulders, slow and gentle like he was unwrapping something fragile. “Lay back for us, baby. Let us take care of you.”

You obeyed — shy, trembling — lying on your back while Smoke kissed down your stomach and Stack sat beside you, playing with your hair.

“She’s already shaking,” Stack murmured, brushing your lip with his thumb. “You ever had your pussy licked before, sweetheart?”

You looked up at him wide-eyed. “No…”

Smoke grinned from between your legs. “You ‘bout to.”

“You wanna be a good girl for us?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“Then let me taste it.”

He leaned in and kissed your inner thigh—soft at first, then open-mouthed, hot. His tongue licked the string of slick that had soaked your panties.

You whimpered and tried to close your legs.

Stack held them wide. “Uh-uh. Let him eat it. You owe us that much.”

His tongue slid up between your folds, slow and warm, making you jolt.

You gasped. “Oh—”

Stack hushed you, hand stroking down your chest. “It’s alright, baby. Just relax. Let him taste it.”

Smoke groaned into you. “She sweet as hell. All this for me?”

He spit on your clit and rubbed it in with his tongue. It was wet, messy, loud — and so much.

Your hips jerked. You moaned, embarrassed, but couldn’t stop it.

already pressing his tongue to your clit. “You walk around all cute and quiet like you don’t know what you do to us. Been wantin’ to ruin this pussy for months.”

He moaned into you, eating you like he needed it, tongue lapping at your folds, fingers rubbing slow circles right where it hurt. You started shaking fast, overwhelmed, hips jerking.

Stack held you still and just watched. Watched Smoke drag his tongue all the way up and spit on your pussy again before going back down for more.

 “You cummin’, baby?”

“I— I think I’m gonna—oh my god—”

“Cum on his tongue,” he ordered. “Let him taste it.”

You fell apart right there, legs trembling, toes curled, crying out. Smoke didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down.

“I-I can’t—it’s too much—”

“Yes you can,” Stack whispered, cupping your cheek. “Be a good girl and let it happen.”

You came hard again, thighs clamping around Smoke’s head, eyes squeezing shut. He just licked you through your orgasm until your whole body went limp.

They flipped you over gently, laying you on your stomach with your hips lifted just enough.

“Still want it?” Smoke asked from behind, tip of his dick dragging between your folds.

You nodded fast. “Please…”

“Good girl,” he growled, pushing in slow.

You gasped. It was thick. Stretching you in ways you never felt before.

“Breathe,” Stack whispered, holding your hand. “You takin’ it so well.”

Smoke was deep inside you, groaning low, hands on your hips like he couldn’t help himself.

“This pussy so fuckin’ tight,” he muttered. “She grippin’ me like she was made for it.”

He started to move, slow but deep, letting you feel everything.

Your little cries made him fuck you harder.

Stack leaned down to kiss you. “That feel good, baby? You like bein’ used like this?”

You nodded, tears brimming. “I-I love it—”

“Yeah?” Smoke thrusted deeper. “Say it again.”

“I love it. I love it—please don’t stop—”

Stack stroked your hair. “You’re takin’ it, baby. You’re doin’ so good.”

“Please,” you whined. “Too sensitive—”

Stack kissed your temple. “Shh, mama. We not even halfway done.”

“You ever suck a dick before, baby?”

You looked up at him, wide-eyed. “Not… all the way.”

“Gon’ teach you.”

Smoke thrusted into you—hard, fast, deep—and you moaned around Stack’s tip as he pushed gently into your throat.

It was overwhelming. You were drooling. Shaking. But your pussy was clenching like you were starving for it.

Stack held your head with both hands, letting you breathe, praising you between every inch.

“That’s it, baby. Pretty mouth takin’ me so well.”

“Just like that. Good little thing.”

Smoke slapped your ass and growled, “She tryna milk me already.”

The sound of skin slapping, your muffled moans, and their filthy talk filled the room.

Smoke pulled out, stroking himself until he came on your back, groaning your name.

Stack kissed your cheek and whispered, “My turn next time, yeah?”

You nodded, ruined and soft and shaking.

They cleaned you up, tucked you into Smoke’s bed between them, and turned the lights down.

“Still scared?” Smoke asked.

“No…”

Stack smiled against your shoulder. “Told you we’d take care of you.”

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This was good

Canary in the Coal Mine

A/N: After writing nine million Smoke/Annie fics it's time for me to give StackNation some love! Here is the official Part One! Also Check out my Masterlist!

Warnings: Knife play, Sub!Stack, Dom!Reader

You are a loyal and highly respected informant and recruiter for the Italian Mob in Chicago and a certain charming soldier out the south has been vying for your attention and the promise of your good word. Will he earn it?

Your daddy saw and appreciated your talents for talking early in life. Ever since you were a teenager, like a bird, you would go around the Chicago streets, pickin’ up gossip, dropping bread crumb of instigation, and making friends with the exclusive or infamous.

It was through your gift of gab that your daddy was able to land a deal with the Italians for being one of their very few black suppliers of good Southern hooch that made tight competition with Irish moonshiners and basement wine-o’s within the city.

“You’re my black Canary.” One of the older Godfathers had said to you after you fed him a line about some new feds poking around the eastern side of his territory.

If folks need information, they go to you. If folks have information to give, you appraise the price of it and relay the message to the proper people for an even steeper fee. If someone needs protection or needs to be threatened, folks know you could arrange it. And especially if someone needed a rent party planned or a small loan to stretch them to the next month, you were the ideal person to contact. The mob needed bodies to march? You found them good dogs for an even better price.

So, of course, when a devilishly dark, tall and handsome Black man swept off the train with a crimson hat and Delta twang. Your favorite shoe shiner let you know right away for the price of a quarter and a hot meal.

“He’s got on soldier shoes. The ones the need the real deep polish and a brushin’, and a shinin’ to get em done. He smelt like tobacco but he ain’t smoke when I shined ‘im. Just asks about places rentin’ and where to getta real drink. He was off the Arkansas train.” the little boy relayed as you poured him another glass of lemonade and another helping of red beans and rice.

“I see, and did you point him to my building or across the street?”

“Told ‘em across the street and shook him a flyer about the party on Saturady. Told em’ all about how cool your parties are.”

“Good job, buddy. Can’t wait to meet him, ” You said as you dropped a quarter into his vest pocket one more question still rested on your tongue.

“And what was his name?”

“Called himself Stack, Miss. Canary.”

You hummed, took a deep drink from your own glass as you pondered the name.

“Mr. Stack…wonder where he got that from?”

x x x x x x

It’s 10pm on a Friday and your latest rent party is in full swing. Cigarette smoke, floral perfumes, and frying chicken season the air as dancing drunk bodies press close and and move like gleaming brown-skinned waves around the narrow hallways and open rooms. You lean on the stairway banister above, taking in the life of it all as the bouncer man keeps tossing bills and coins into the lockbox by his side then waving folks to come in and melt into the music. 

Niggas was dancing, liquor was flowing and money was good. You watch it all while wrapped in expensive burgundy silk. Not much more a girl could ask for.

Your gaze comes back to the door to see your favorite shoe shiner boy Kenny, bring in this strange Stack man. While the man was consistent in going to Kenny for a shine, his bipolar demeanor had also been reported to you. 

While always nice to the shiner boy, Kenny had reported that some days Stack was dressed slick in red and charming while on other days he was stoic and gruff in cold blue. Either way the boy was paid and paid well, this made Stack too intriguing to just hear about now.

Now, you had to see the man paying for your attention. 

Especially because Stack was asking about how to find work in the Italian Leather House.

You whistle sharply through the noise and bustle catching your bouncer, Kenny and Mister Stack attention. The large man raises an eyebrow and you just nod him up. Stack smiles widely and you hum at the grill gleam off his pearly whites, nice teeth means a clean man. He hands a bill to Kenny and you chuckle as your shoe shiner smiles big and runs back out while Stack seems to glide up to you. 

“Evening, ma’am.” Stack greets you by taking your hand and placing a kiss right under your knuckles. You give him a smile. 

“Evening, Mister Stack. You won’t hear it from the peckerwoods, but thank you for your service. Did they have you in the air over there? Or where you boots on the ground?” You ask. A blink and you miss it look of surprise fills his eyes, making you give him a Cheshire grin. 

“Boots. Supply runner and correspondence." He informs you.

“Traduzioni?” you ask. 

It’s Stack’s turn to smirk as he kisses further up your hand and to the side of your wrist. He steps closer to you letting his head bend a little to get close to your ear. Stack presses so close that your hands press into the firmness of his chest, the heavenly smell of musk and tobacco waft off him. 

Stack was starting to check more and more boxes.

Nice teeth. Check.

A polished style. Check.

Good smelling with clean and trim nails. Check.

His minty breath blows over your ear as he speaks. 

“Si. Italiano, inglese, persino francese. Ho talento per le lingue.” he answers into the cove of your ear. You bite your lip and let it out slowly, nodding in approval. 

“Is your tongue as talented as your speech?” you ask and Stack nods swiftly.

“Of course, but I’m going to need some encouragement.” he tells you as you lead him up to your private loft. You raise an eyebrow, “Like what, Mister Stack?” 

You come to the door and hum when he kisses a sweet spot on the back of your neck as you unlock the door. 

“Like you moaning my name, Miss. Canary.” 

You usher him in, waving him to the desk by the chair. Stack takes in the office space, noting the dark wood furniture with bronze lacquer and fancy chairs crafted with fine dark red leather. Obvious gifts from the Italians. On the opposite side of the desk and chairs was an armory, Stack whistles at your impressive spread of liquors and various bar necessities tucked inside of it. 

“Are you a Whiskey or Rum kinda man?” You ask, popping two thick ice cubes from the small cold box into a glass. 

“Whiskey please.” Stack requests as he peels out his suit jacket and takes his hat off.

“North or south?”

“Can only get it from the north. I don’t want no worm in my liquor.” Stack answers back quickly and now it’s your turn to whistle, impressed. This stranger knew a little something about the flow liquor.

You fill the glass full and straight, walking over you take a seat on the desk to the side of him. You two blatantly eye one another over, you get to the glint of his eyes before humming and taking the first drink of the glass. Stack’s pink tongue licks over his lips as he watches you swallow and the condensation drips, then flows down your hand and wrist. 

“So, your momma named you Stack?” you ask after this quiet moment, passing the glass to him as the whiskey warmth burns your chest. Stack furrows his brow for a moment then he takes a deep drink of the glass before shrugging and settling back in his seat. You take his hat off his head to inspect the craftsmanship. You tut at the mocked Italian design but the fabric was just a bit off to the touch of a hand that knows it very well.  The tag of authenticity was mistranslated and sewn into the wrong spot in the back. A good but cheap replica. 

“Nah. My reputation names me, Miss. Canary. I can stack up plenty of things. Friends, information, reefer, hooch, money, hoes. I wanna do something new though, get into the leathers.” He says.

“Is that so? That’s tough business to get into around here. Little Italy is an island in this city and they hate new ships to enter. Especially with a phony hat.” You warn him. Stack turns around in his seat, his arms enclosing around your legs while you take the glass back and place his hat on your head. 

“Im a hard worker.” he says, his handsome hands rubbing up and down the sides of your legs. Gradually he pulls you in closer and closer to the edge of the desk until you are forced to part your legs around him. You give a soft grunt as his wide hands palm your ass, gripping the fabric of your silky dress to massage the flesh.  

“Get to work then.” you command him, taking the rest of the drink to the head and clinking the glass to wood. Stack gives a deep chuckle and starts to kiss up your left thigh. His grillz catches on your stocking until they run, then rip at his teeth’s insistence and Stack’s lush lips start to suck hickies into the brown of your skin.

“Shit, be gentle.” you puff when he grips into the runs and fully rips your stocking off, exposing that you had no panties on. Pussy watering the mesh fabric.

You grasp his head and groan when Stack pulls you fully onto his face and that wide, wet tongue of his licks the slit of your pussy with a slow tease. Stack takes a deep inhale of your scent, causing shivers to shake you when he blows a cool puff over the sensitive folds.

“I’m always a gentle man.” he tells your pussy before opening you up with the wide bridge of his nose then diving in with his gifted tongue. 

“Oh!” you moan aloud at the slick movement of his mouth. One hand finds stability by gripping the edge of the desk and the other fully wraps around the back of his head. You trust back onto his mouth and with lustful gusto while Stack works to coax more wetness out of you. 

Stack’s tongue presses hotly over your clit, steadily flicking before easing up and teasing a circle around her and processing to suck. Over and over, like a soft serve of sweet cream.

Your bucks become sloppy at the flicker and Stack takes control in guiding your hips to meet the work of his mouth on you. You try to squeeze your thighs around his head as a coil of pleasure tightens within you, arching back to find some relief. Stack stops your attempt by running a hand down your legs to your knee and pulling it open. You gasp as it scoots across the wood of the desk and Stack nods deeper into you with a new angle. Papers scatter off the desk as you slam your hand back to try and support yourself.

“No runnin’” He damn near growls. 

You grip the back of his collar and hold him right there as you cum hard on his face. A whiny moan echoing the office space as your shake and the nigga keeps lapping you up, chin soaked from flood his coaxes out of you. You yelp and gasp, nerves jumping as Stack keeps licking and his nose drags up and down. You slam your hand over and over on the wood and finally cry out as another nut is drawn out of you in rapid succession. 

“Fuck!” 

 Stack stands at the dull thump of you falling back on to the desk with your head nearly dangling off the back edge. Eyes blown, body limp and twitchy in come down from the euphoria his tongue fucked you too. Your chest heaves and you watch as Stack walks back to the liquor cabinet and refills the glass with another full-straight of whiskey.

He comes around to the back of the desk and settles himself in your office chair. You give him a breathy chuckle as Stack smirks down at you with his damp face and takes a drink, you bite your lips at the bob of his Adam's apple. Slowly you roll onto your belly and prop your head up, “Rude, you ain’t offer me a sip first.” You comment with a false pout.

“Sorry, Miss. Canary. Pussy too sweet, don’t wanna get a cavity.” He flirts, you chuckle and nod at the glass. Stack cups your face with one hand and slowly feeds you a deep drink off the glass. You groan around the burn of liquor down your throat, closing your eyes in thought. 

You only let niggas eat your pussy for one thing, judgement. 

Did this Delta Blooded nigga deserve your good word to Big Al?  

Would he be able to keep up? Would he be able to do the hard shit that always needed to get done? Could he prove himself loyal? Can he follow your leads? Can he really take commands?

Is he a good dog?

Stack watches you with mirth-filled and tipsy whiskey eyes as you curl a finger for him to come closer. He does so, until you can grip the front of his shirt, Stack swallows as you use him for leverage and pulls yourself up to crawl off the desk and into his lap. Stack eyes your breasts, biting his lip in craving to put one in his mouth. You tilt his head back up and kiss him, Stack groans into your mouth, swapping the taste of cunt and whisky back and forth. Stack caresses your waist as you drag your hands down his arm, feeling the muscle hidden under the starched cotton of his shirt sleeves. 

Stack flexes, you giggle into his mouth.

A strong body was good. 

Stack’s head dips again, you let him place shallow kisses upon your neck, threatening to leave marks of claim on your skin as your fingers crawl around to his front then creep through his vest. You moan when Stack freezes as you grip his trench knife and slowly pull it out. 

You lean back from him, Stack looks at you with a mix of curiosity and steel in his eyes. He looks into your eyes deeply, they never leave your gaze even as you press the side of his own knife to his jugular. “Identify yourself, soldier.” you command huskily.

Instantly Stack changes, a firm pride straightening his posture, his expression locked in. His hand goes to raise to his head in snapped attention, you grasp it before and force it between your two laps until it laid on your pussy like it was a Bible to swear on. Stack lifts an eyebrow and your press in enough to smart his skin. 

“State yourself.” You say again.

“Specialist Elias Moore, reporting for duty.” 

“And jus why in the fuck should I give you a task to complete? Why you want my war, Elias? Al don’t like shaking hands like Papa Johnny, he’s a tyrant with a promise to have Chicago on its knees. That’s gonna require a hol’ lotta put your fucking head down and do as your told. Can you do as you’re told, Elias? Cause like hell will I have a nigga embarrassing me in front of these Whoo-wop bastards I’ve been piano playing for the last 8 years. I’ve earned that. You an earner, Elias?”

“I’m about my work. My work is good. I pimped out Little Rock until I got greedy. Robbed the train I rode in on. That straight hustle, baby. I think that puddle of pussy you left on the other side of this desk proves that.” he answers gruffly. He swallows deeply as you press the knife in another hair at his smart comment, a thin line of red appearing at the slight pressure.

Good, meant he kept his knives sharp.

You require a sharp edge man. 

“You think you're the only dog ass nigga I’ve gathered off the street to eat this pussy in exchange for my consideration? Boy, please.”

“I know I’m the only one to have you gushin’ back to back!” Stack argues. 

You grin. 

Stack grunts out as slash down with the knife, cutting through the fabric of his shift and leaving a long nick over his collar bone. You both watch as blood starts to bead out the thin line and stain the beige of his shirt. 

“That is true.” you confess, you jump a little as you feel a thick hardness forum under you, coupled with Stack’s clenched jaw and dark, lusty eyes. Then, the nigga matches your grin, fingers tear more of your stockings off in hot need. You can’t help but giggle as the final box is checked.

This nigga is: crazy.

“Well, open it up. I gotta mark to leave.”

Stack puts his hand into the cut and fully rips it open, tearing the fabric with an ease that makes your pussy clench. You put the knife’s tip into the inner edge and with a delicate swipe you curve down and over. A crude C, now sliced into him. Stack moans as you lean in and kiss it, licking it clean of blood. 

You then stretch back up and meet his lips in a deep kiss, moaning into hos mouth as Stack's hands trace upon your back and clutch you into his chest. Tiddies pressing over his new wound. You plant the knife into the arm of the chair before wrapping your arms around Stack shoulders and starting to dry hump him.

“Focus.” you puff in his ear. Stack grunt as he turns his head towards you, so you two rest cheek to cheek.

“If you ain’t on mission you report back to me 10pm sharp. Any hussy you run, pay the girls they money and tell ‘em to get on somewhere. Cause if you on my roster you make good money doing the work ya self.  Pimpin is lazy under me, I don’t condone lazy niggas. Be on your best behavior, any trouble you cause wit them three-piece suits comes back on me. I’ll make you worse for it. Capone will just kill you, I’ll make you wish for it. You.. yo- fuck this dick’s big… you got that?” You tell him voice velvety low as you speak. Stack swallows and his hands dip down to your ass and squeeze both ass cheeks he grunts as your lick his lobe.

“Yes ma’am.” he hisses out when your legs tighten around Stack’s hips and you cum again, creaming yourself on the tent of his girthy shaft. Staining the fabric of Stack trousers with yourself.

You let your head fall to the man's shoulder and sigh contently. Stack moves his hips, dick tight and aching, core fluttering, god if you just let him slip in…

Instead you sit up, take the knife again and place it in his hand. You hold your dress open and Stack can’t help but admire your pretty pussy. Fascinated in the way the folds were pressed over the seam of his crotch, juices glistening as it wet the fabric. 

“Focus.” you tut.

Stack nods as he looks you in the eye, that red line seeping just a bit on the side of his neck.

“Cut off a strip, make it clean and thin.”

Stack takes in a breath and with quick and precise movements that expose his training he does as such. The ribbon of dress flutters to your thighs. You place your hand on Stack shoulder, run it down the chain of his half-hidden dog tags until your finger tips meet the metal pendant. You take the ribbon and tie a slip knot bow right next to it. 

“That ribbon tells anyone in the know that you are mines. Properly recruited and stamped for approval. This stays on you at all times, you will show it off when requested. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Miss. Canary.”

“Good… real good. Now go downstairs, getcha a plate on me from Tracy. Then go home and get some sleep. We got a date at the dock at 11 am sharp. No colored folks time, military attendance."

“Understood.” Stack says with an obedient nod. You smile and place a big kiss on his cheek, leaving a dark rose lipstick stain on his brown skin before placing Stack’s hat back on his head. 

“Actually, let's make that 8 am at the Benny’s Tailor shop on South Rush. Gotta get ya some new threads.” you amend as you finally stand and fully strip out of your torn up clothes. Stack can’t help but sit back and admire your body, your glorious brown skin, the way your silhouette curves, even how your ass juggles as you walk over to a slimmer closet and pull out another dress.

You peek over your shoulder and scoff at the sight of Stack in reverent awe, lips bit in, and his dick pint hard and obvious. You toss tatters of stocking at his face.

“Go on, now!” You says. Stack groans but stands, he presses down the dress shirt as best he can with the huge tear over the chest and hides it under his suit jacket. Stack gives you one more charming grin and with a tip of his hat he’s gone.

x x x x x x

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Mouthfuls & Moans 💰

Modern!au Elias “Stack” Moore X Maya Coleman

Word Count: 4.8k

Authors Note: While i love Uncle Stack, i had to give him some loving too. His fine ass deserves it. Smoke can't be the only one outchea gettin' some cooze. 🤭Let me know if you guys want more of Stack and Maya. (I can give her a face claim and make them a lil 2-3 part series). Gotta love Stack's slick talkin', charming ass personality. I'd allow him to talk me into some shit I won't lie to you. Anyways enjoy, my freaky frogs. Prompts and storyline suggestions are welcome btw.

The sunlight spills through the blinds in lazy stripes, wrapping the room in honey and heat. The sheets are a tangle of skin and cotton, kicked low and wrinkled from the night before. Maya stirs first, her eyes still heavy, body sore in the best kind of way. She blinks at the ceiling for a moment, the silence between her and the world thick with peace.

Stack is still asleep beside her, sprawled out on his stomach, the covers barely covering his waist. One arm hangs off the side of the bed, and the other lies heavy where she used to be. His face is turned toward her pillow, lips parted, breathing slow. Maya takes a second just to look at him. At the tattoos crawling up his back, at the way his shoulder rises and falls like he’s floating. Still, solid, and hers.

She slips out of bed as quietly as she can, the floor cool under her bare feet. Her legs ache a little when she stands — a sweet, stinging reminder of how good he was to her last night. Her lips twitch into a private little grin as she crosses the room and grabs his shirt off the floor. It’s soft and oversized, swallowing her curves and smelling like his skin. She doesn’t bother with underwear. Let him see.

In the kitchen, the light’s a little brighter. It’s the kind of morning where the clock doesn’t matter, where the only thing she needs is something sizzling on the stove and a man watching her like she’s the last bite of something sacred.

Maya moves like she’s done this a hundred times — because she has. Bacon in the skillet. Eggs cracked into a bowl with a flick of her wrist. A leftover peach sliced on the counter. She hums something soft under her breath, old R&B she can’t name right now, hips swaying in time. The hem of Stack’s shirt brushes against her thighs as she reaches for the pepper. The grease pops in the pan and she barely flinches.

Behind her, floorboards creak. She doesn’t have to turn around.

“You cookin’ in my shirt again?” Stack’s voice rumbles behind her and it's gravel low, thick with sleep.

Maya smirks to herself before glancing over her shoulder. “And? You complainin’?”

He’s standing there with no shirt, sweatpants riding low on his hips, his waist and v-line looking like he was sculpted by a God. His soft brown eyes locked on her like he just remembered why he breathes. His hair is slightly tousled, mouth still half kiss-swollen, and that look he gives her? It slides straight down her spine.

Stack steps behind her, arms wrapping around her waist, his chest warm against her back. She melts into him like muscle memory. His lips graze her neck, his breath lazy and hot.

“You tryna start somethin’,” he mutters, voice half a warning, half a promise.

“I’m cookin’,” she says innocently.

“You cookin’, but you ain’t got no drawers on,” he murmurs, dragging his palm down the front of her thigh, slipping it between. “So who you tryna feed first?”

She bites her lip, grinning, but says nothing. Instead, she rocks her hips back against him, just enough to feel the weight of him thickening behind her.

“Oh, aight,” Stack breathes, kissing her shoulder. “So we doin’ this now?”

“I mean,” she says softly, “you the one pressin’ up on me like this. I’m just mindin’ my skillet.”

Stack chuckles low in his throat, that sound he makes when he’s halfway between amused and turned on. Mixed with Lust and Thunder. His hands dip under the hem of the shirt, thumbs brushing over her hips.

Maya gasps, caught between a laugh and a moan. “Stack—”

“Shh,” he breathes against her neck, guiding her forward until her hands brace against the counter. “Lemme eat first.” Fumbling forward, Maya flicks off the stovetop. The burning between her legs was enough.

He doesn’t waste time. One smooth motion and he’s inside her, thick and slow and all the way. Maya’s mouth falls open, a soft cry caught in her throat. She braces herself with both hands, knuckles white against the edge of the stove as he fills her inch by inch.

“You always so ready for me,” he whispers, teeth grazing her earlobe. “Like you waitin’ for this.”

“I was cookin’,” she breathes, hips already grinding back against him.

“You still are,” he says, sliding deep again, letting the drag of him make her tremble. “Just… different kind of heat.”

His pace is lazy but deliberate, every thrust pushing her forward just a little. Not hard, but deep, rolling into her like he’s carving his name into the place that pulses for him. Maya’s eyes flutter shut, lips parting as she melts around him. The veins of his shaft memorizing the intricate pathways inside of her.

“Elias,” she moans, head tilting back against his shoulder.

“That’s it,” he grunts, gripping her hips tighter. “Give me that.”

He keeps one hand wrapped around her waist while the other slides between her thighs. His fingers stroke her just right, slow and steady, in sync with the rhythm of his body inside hers. She’s already on the edge, the way he knows her, the way he moves inside her like he owns the floor she stands on. It’s too much and not enough.

Her orgasm crests with a soft sob, her body seizing around him. Stack curses under his breath, his own release not far behind. He presses deep, grinding into her with a final, drawn-out thrust before stilling.

They stand there for a long breath, the scent of sex and sizzling bacon wrapping around them. Maya finally breaks the silence with a breathless laugh.

“You really let this bacon burn,” she says, looking over her shoulder at him.

Stack kisses the side of her neck and says, “I’ll make pancakes. Just keep that shirt on.”

Maya finally makes it to the couch with her plate in hand, legs curled beneath her, skin still humming from earlier. She’s cleaned up, barely. Stack’s shirt now clings to her like it’s made for her curves, but her hair’s still wild, her neck still flushed. She don’t mind. Sundays were made for this kind of softness.

The TV is on but low. An old sitcom rerun they’ve both seen a dozen times playing in the background. She laughs to herself at the jokes before they even land, mouthing the punchlines with lazy affection.

Stack comes strolling in a few minutes later, sweatpants back to riding low, a bottle of water in one hand and that smug, dimpled grin in full bloom.

“You coulda waited on me,” he says, nodding toward her plate.

“You coulda not bent me over the stove,” she tosses back, licking syrup from her finger.

“Mmm,” Stack drawls, eyes dropping to her mouth, “but then I wouldn’t’ve started my morning right.”

He drops down beside her like he owns the whole couch. Arms stretched out, legs wide, his thigh brushing hers. One look at him and Maya already knows he’s feeling himself. Relaxed. Turned on by nothing and everything.

She keeps eating. Or tries to. But his eyes don’t leave her. They flick from her mouth to her thighs to the way his shirt barely covers the place he just left.

“You real quiet,” she says between bites, side-eyeing him.

“I’m watchin’ you,” he says, low and easy.

“For what?”

Stack leans in slow, voice thick with syrup and intent. “Tryna decide if I want dessert now or after you get done bein’ cute.”

Maya snorts. “I am done bein’ cute. That’s permanent.”

He grins, sliding closer. “That’s why you got my shirt stretched out like that? Wearin’ it like it ain’t doin things to me?”

She lifts a brow but doesn’t back down. “You said keep it on.”

“And I meant that,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across her knee. “I just ain’t say I’d keep my hands off you.”

Maya exhales slow, her fork pausing mid-air.

Stack keeps touching, slow circles on the soft inside of her thigh, fingers trailing closer but not quite close enough. Just under the hem. Just high enough to keep her body paying attention.

“You playin’,” she warns softly, eyes narrowing as she tries to keep cool.

“Nah,” he says, “you playin’. Walking ‘round in my shit, smellin’ like vanilla, brown sugar and sex, sittin’ over there actin’ like I ain’t got a whole hand on your thigh right now.”

“You tryna be funny.”

Stack laughs, low and rich. “I’m tryna be patient. But you’re real close to losin’ that privilege.”

He drags his fingers up just an inch, grazing her where she’s still tender and then pulls away entirely, like it’s nothin’.

Maya gasps and glares. “Oh, you—”

“What?” he interrupts, stretching back with his arms behind his head like he didn’t just light her nerves on fire. “I ain’t do nothin’. Just appreciatin’ my girl.”

She sets the plate down, eyes locked on him now, jaw clenched in mock offense.

“I should slap you,” she says.

Stack’s dimple deepens. “You should thank me for the restraint I’m showin’ right now.”

Maya doesn’t answer. She just throws a pillow at him. Stack catches it mid-air with one hand, then tosses it to the floor like he got better things to hold.

“You mad?” he teases.

“I’m heated.”

He leans in again, this time slow and low, his voice a whisper only meant for her. “Good. Stay like that for me.”

She breathes in, steady but shallow. Her skin is buzzing. Every inch of her feels stretched thin with want, and Stack knows it. He leans back again, casual like nothing just passed between them. Like he didn’t just dangle her over the edge without offering a damn thing to hold onto.

“You ever get tired of yourself?” she asks, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“Nope,” he says, biting into a piece of her peach from her plate. “And I never get tired of you.”

Maya shifts beside him, thighs pressing together. Her lips curve upward, not quite a smile, but something softer — something that says she likes this game more than she’ll admit.

Stack notices. He always does.

“You need somethin’?” he asks, brushing peach juice off his bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

She tilts her head. “You know I do.”

He nods like he’s got all the time in the world. “Mm. I’ma let you simmer a little longer. Make you feel it.”

She bites her lip to keep from smiling, turning back toward the TV like she’s over it but Stack knows better. Her breathing’s changed. Her skin’s warm.

His voice slips back into the space between them like a secret: “When I do touch you again, I want you beggin’. Real soft. Real needy. You remember how?”

Maya doesn’t answer, not out loud. But the way her hand curls into the couch cushion says enough.

Stack disappears into the bedroom for a few minutes after breakfast, claiming he needs to grab his rolling tray and decompress. Maya doesn’t argue. She just curls deeper into the corner of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, a satisfied little smirk on her lips. Her plate’s empty, and her body’s still thrumming from his hands, his mouth, his damn voice.

But now it’s her turn.

She hears the familiar flick of the lighter before she sees him — the soft click of glass against wood as he sets the tray down on the coffee table and sinks into the couch beside her again. Stack leans back, spreading out with that lazy, lion-stretch swagger, a freshly lit joint between his fingers.

“See,” he exhales, smoke curling up from his mouth, “this what Sundays for.”

Maya watches the smoke drift lazily toward the ceiling. “That your way of sayin’ you tapped out?”

“Nah,” Stack says smoothly, “that’s my way of sayin’ I’m coastin’. Letting the day breathe.”

She hums. “Mmm. So you pacin’ yourself.”

“Exactly.”

Maya nods, pretending to accept that like it makes sense. But she’s already plotting.

Stack shifts, one arm over the back of the couch, the joint between his fingers glowing soft orange. He closes his eyes for a second, lets the smoke roll out slow through his nose, and when he opens them again she’s moved.

Not far. Just turned toward him, knees folded beneath her now, hands tucked under her thighs. The oversized shirt she’s wearing dips low on one side, slipping farther down her shoulder. Just enough for him to notice.

She cocks her head. “You high already?”

“Nah,” he murmurs, still cool. “Gettin’ there though.”

“Mm,” she says, voice dropping low. “I like when you high. You get even more laid-back. But real sensitive, too.”

Stack lifts a brow at her. “Oh yeah?”

She nods slowly, licking her bottom lip just a little. “Like… touch-starved. Always tryna feel somethin’. Soft palms and deeper strokes. You know what I’m talkin’ about.”

His eyes narrow slightly, amused. He drags the joint again, real slow this time, not breaking eye contact.

Maya leans in closer, voice syrupy now. “I bet you could barely hold it together if I sat on your lap right now. All warm and slick with no panties on. Just settle right over you and grind a little. Soft, slow… Like I ain’t even tryna do nothin’ crazy.”

Stack’s jaw tightens, just for a flash. That’s how she knows she’s in his head now.

“I’d sit just right,” she purrs. “Chest to chest. Arms around your neck. Just rockin’ my hips real sweet. Sayin’ nothin’. Lookin’ you dead in the eyes. Until you can’t hit that joint no more.”

Stack chuckles, but it comes out rougher than usual. He exhales hard through his nose, then glances at her out the side of his eye. “You feelin’ bold today.”

“I’m just observant,” Maya says innocently, twirling a piece of her hair. “You get real quiet when you tryna focus. Your hand grip the couch like this—” she imitates him, curling her fingers into the cushion between them, “—and your breathing? Whew. Starts gettin’ all shallow. Little grunts. Real low. Like you strugglin’.”

Stack shakes his head slowly, a crooked grin starting to bloom. “I swear, you gon’ get dealt with.”

“I’m countin’ on it,” she teases, giggling now.

He brings the joint to his lips again, but his hand hovers just a second too long. Like he’s remembering how she sounded in the kitchen. How she tightened around him. How she begged in that sweet little voice she only pulls out when she wants something real bad.

Maya watches him struggle with the hit, eyes glossy from the smoke and something else.

She leans in close, whispering in his ear, “Bet if I dropped this shirt right now, you’d be fully hard in ten seconds flat.”

“You assumin’ I’m not already,” Stack mutters, voice rough, lips curling at the edges.

She laughs loud at that, falling back into the cushion beside him, satisfied.

“Awww, poor baby,” she coos mockingly, brushing her hand down his thigh. Not close enough to touch anything vital, but enough to remind him she’s right there.

He doesn’t flinch. Just turns to her, joint forgotten now, gaze heavy and slow.

“You like talkin’ all that mess,” he says, reaching for her ankle and pulling her legs across his lap. “You gon’ regret runnin’ that mouth.”

“Promise?” she whispers.

Stack runs his hand up her shin, past her knee, grazing the soft skin on the inside of her thigh again, not teasing this time; just claiming. His fingers press into the plush curve just before it gets good.

Maya bites her bottom lip and watches him, all that confidence flickering behind her lashes.

But Stack doesn’t move further. Doesn’t press harder. He leans in instead, kissing the spot below her ear, speaking low into her skin.

“I’m not touchin’ you again ‘til you beg for real. And when I do… I ain’t stoppin’ ‘til your legs give out.”

Maya shivers. Real, deep, and this time, she’s the one trying to hold still.

He grins against her skin, satisfied.

The afternoon drifts by slow. After all the teasing and playful heat, they find themselves back in the bed, tangled under the fan with the curtains drawn against the high sun. The TV is still humming in the other room, but neither of them cares. Their limbs are wrapped tight, legs overlapping, Maya’s head resting just beneath Stack’s chin.

He dozes with one arm beneath her, the other draped heavy across her waist. His breathing is calm, warm against her forehead, like his body’s still claiming her even in sleep.

Maya stirs sometime after five. The light in the room is golden now, softer, slower. Her body is warm, her face pressed into Stack’s bare chest. She doesn’t move right away. She just listens to the sound of his heart, steady and sure, and the faint clatter of pans in the distance?

Her eyes flick open.

He’s not in bed.

She smiles softly before she even lifts her head. The smell hits her next; garlic, onion, something buttery and rich floating in from the kitchen. She stretches slow, sore in the hips, then slides out of bed, one of his shirts still clinging to her frame.

Maya pads barefoot into the kitchen and stops just short of the doorway, leaning her shoulder against the frame.

Stack stands at the stove, barefoot and shirtless again, grey sweats hanging low on his hips. His back is to her, muscles shifting every time he stirs the sauce. A large pot of pasta is boiling beside him, steam rising like mist. The whole room smells like love. Herbs and olive oil, parmesan and cream.

He hums to himself, low and off-key, flipping something in a skillet like he does this every Sunday. And truth be told, he kind of does.

Maya watches in silence, chin propped against her fist as she rests it on the doorway. It’s the casual confidence that gets her. The way he moves like he owns the space. The way he tastes as he cooks, licks his thumb, taps the spoon against the pot. He’s fine, but it’s the quiet care that does her in. The way he never lets her lift a finger when he’s in this mode.

He senses her before she speaks. Turns slightly and grins without looking.

“You always standin’ there like a creep,” he says, voice soft with amusement.

“I’m admirin’,” she replies, eyes soft. “It’s different.”

“You admirin’, huh?”

“Yup. Lookin’ at my man makin’ dinner like he ain’t just been actin’ up all day.”

Stack turns fully now, the wooden spoon still in his hand. “I was mindin’ my business. You the one crawlin’ up on that couch talkin’ about grindin’ and beggin’ and droppin’ shirts.”

Maya smirks. “I ain’t do none of that. I just said it.”

Stack steps forward slowly, setting the spoon down on the counter. “That mouth is dangerous. You know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

He pauses in front of her, looking her over from crown to toes like he hasn’t been laid up in bed with her all day. His hand comes up to her chin, thumb brushing over her bottom lip.

“I ever tell you I love how you look when you just wake up?” he says, voice low and close.

She leans into his palm. “You told me last week.”

“I mean it every time. You look all soft. Eyes sleepy. Mouth poutin’. Makes me wanna kiss on you slow… or fuck you against the fridge.”

Maya laughs, cheeks warm. “You really can’t behave for more than ten minutes.”

“I am behavin’,” he says, pulling her close by the waist. “Ain’t I in here cookin’? Feedin’ my woman? Bein’ domestic and shit?”

“You cookin’, but your eyes over here undressin’ me.”

“They undress you every time I blink,” he murmurs.

She giggles again, looping her arms around his neck. “You smell good.”

“I smell like butter and sweat.”

“You smell like you,” she says. “And you know what that does to me.”

Stack hums against her neck, planting a kiss just below her ear. “Say less. After dinner, I’m puttin’ you to sleep properly.”

“Oh?” she teases. “And what we been doin’ all day then?”

He grins against her throat. “That was just foreplay.”

They eat at the table like they’ve got nowhere to be. Maya swirls her fork through creamy linguine while Stack grates fresh parmesan over both their bowls like it’s second nature. The conversation is light; laughter, soft jabs, long pauses where their eyes linger too long and the air starts to shift again.

She moans a little when she tastes the sauce, just to mess with him.

Stack watches her tongue swipe the corner of her mouth, jaw tight like he’s doing his best not to respond.

“You makin’ sounds like that over pasta,” he says, “and wonder why I be on you every five minutes.”

“Can’t help it,” she says, licking her fork slow. “Shit’s good.”

He leans forward, elbows on the table, voice dropping low. “You ain’t seen nothin’ good yet.”

That heat? It’s back. Curling between them like the steam rising off the plates. He’s quiet for the rest of the meal, but the way he watches her eat says everything. His stare doesn’t waver. Doesn’t blink. Like he’s been pacing himself all damn day just for this.

By the time the dishes are rinsed and the table’s cleared, Stack moves different. Slower. Focused. No more jokes. No more teasing.

He walks up behind Maya while she’s wiping the counter and rests both hands on her hips. But his grip wasn’t playful this time. It was Firm. Possessive.

“You done bein’ cute?” he asks, voice husky in her ear.

She straightens slowly. “Maybe.”

Stack turns her gently to face him. His mouth brushes hers once softly, almost chaste; but his hands are already sliding up the backs of her thighs, under the hem of the shirt.

“Good,” he whispers. “I’m done playin’ with you.”

He lifts her without another word.

Maya’s legs wrap around his waist instinctively, arms looping around his neck. Her back hits the hallway wall with a soft thud, and Stack is already kissing her like he needs it. Deep, slow, lips parting hers until she’s gasping into his mouth.

He grinds into her through his sweats, the heat between them unbearable.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, dragging his lips across her cheek. “That’s what you do to me. Walkin’ ‘round talkin’ nasty, actin’ like I won’t flip this fuckin’ whole apartment for you.”

“I wasn’t actin’,” she breathes.

“Exactly.”

He carries her into the bedroom, drops her on the bed with care but purpose, and yanks the shirt over her head. She lies back, fully bare now, chest rising, legs spread just enough.

Stack doesn’t pounce. Not yet.

He undresses slow. Peeling off the sweats, his body hard and ready. His eyes never leave hers.

Then he kneels on the bed and grabs her ankles, dragging her to the edge like she’s already his. Because she is.

“You want slow or rough?” he asks, settling between her thighs.

Maya’s voice is soft but steady. “I want you. Please I need it.”

That’s all it takes.

Stack pushes in with one long, punishing stroke, and Maya arches off the bed with a cry. He doesn’t give her time to adjust. He sets the pace immediately, deep, measured, with just enough pressure to make her toes curl.

His palm finds her throat, gripping with just enough force to ground her. His other hand presses her thigh open.

“Look at me,” he growls.

She does. Barely. That wasn’t good enough for him.

“I said look at me.” His voice rumbles as he grips her throat a bit tighter.

“Mmm…” She whimpers as her gaze meets his.

“You take it so good. Always open for me. Always ready.”

Her hands claw at his back as he rolls his hips harder now, dragging himself almost all the way out before slamming back in. The bed creaks. Her breath stutters. Her voice breaks.

“Elias, fuck baby please—”

“Yeah,” he grunts. “Say my name like that. Let me hear you when I’m in deep. Have my name drippin’ out your mouth while I work every spot I know drives you crazy.”

His thrusts pick up, smooth and devastating, rocking her against the mattress. Sweat beads on his forehead. Her nails leave trails down his back, her legs wrapping tight around his waist.

“Slow it down,” she whispers.

Stack obeys immediately. Not because she commands him, but because he listens. His strokes slow, but stay deep. He moves like he’s memorizing her shape. His lips fall to her shoulder, her collarbone, the space beneath her jaw.

“I love how you sound,” he whispers. “Love how you look when I’m inside you. Eyes all glassy. Mouth open like you ain’t even got words.”

She holds him tighter. Her hips rise to meet each stroke now, desperate for every inch.

“You mine, Maya,” he breathes against her lips. “Every inch of this body… this mouth… this pussy… mine.”

“Yours,” she chokes, her voice breaking into moans. “All yours.”

He groans deep in his chest and grabs her thigh, bending her leg higher, angling even deeper. Her body jerks with every thrust now, pleasure thick and pulsing between them.

“Daddy Gon’ make you cum hard,” he says. “Real deep. Real slow. Like I’m pourin’ it outta you.”

Maya’s close. Too close. The kind of build that aches, thick and blooming behind her ribs.

“Don’t stop,” she whimpers.

“I’m not,” Stack whispers. “Not ‘til you fall apart for me.”

She does. Mere seconds later.

It rolls through her like a wave. Slow and devastating, her whole body trembling as she cries out his name. Her nails dig deep. Her mouth parts on a sob. Stack keeps moving through it, strokes faltering only when he loses himself, burying deep with a groan that sounds like adoration.

They collapse into each other, breathless, damp, chests rising in sync.

Stack kisses her forehead, still inside her, still holding her like he won’t let her drift an inch away.

“I meant every word,” he whispers. “You mine.”

Maya nods, voice barely there. “I know.”

The bedroom moves into a quiet lull, save for the sound of their breathing slowing down, syncing back to normal. The sheets are a mess. The air smells like sex, skin, and a whisper of his cologne that never fully fades.

Maya lies on her stomach, face buried in the pillow, body still twitching with aftershocks. Her legs are open, lazily draped across the bed, completely spent. Stack is sprawled beside her, arm tossed across her lower back, fingers idly tracing the curve of her spine like he’s still memorizing her, like he never wants to forget what just happened between them.

“Damn,” she murmurs into the pillow.

He chuckles low. “That all you got to say?”

“That’s all I can say,” she mumbles, lifting her head just enough to look at him. Her hair’s a wild halo around her face, lips swollen, eyes still a little unfocused. “You be tryna rearrange my soul, ‘Lias.”

He smirks, leaning in to kiss the top of her shoulder. “You was beggin’ for it.”

“And you delivered like Amazon Prime.”

Stack laughs out loud at that, deep and full, chest vibrating against her bare back.

“You stupid,” he says, still grinning.

She rolls onto her side to face him, cheeks glowing, body flushed and beautiful. “You keep fillin’ me up like that,” she says casually, brushing her fingers across his chest, “and we gon’ have a lil’ somebody runnin’ ‘round here talkin’ about ‘Dada’ before the summer’s out.”

Stack blinks once, then raises a brow, clearly caught off guard, but only for a second.

“Oh word?” he says, smirking again. “That what you tryna do now? Trap me with a baby?”

Maya grins, biting her lip. “You the one who don’t pull out.”

“You the one who tell me not to,” he shoots back.

“Well,” she shrugs, turning over to straddle him, hips resting low on his waist, “I like feelin’ you stay in it. Like all the way.”

His hands slide up her thighs, gripping her softly. “You just like temptin’ fate.”

“Maybe,” she whispers, leaning down to kiss his jaw. “Maybe I want something to show for all this lovin’.”

Stack’s eyes flicker, something serious swimming behind all that charm. His grip on her hips tightens just slightly, just enough to say I heard you.

“You really wouldn’t mind?” she asks quietly, softer now.

He meets her eyes dead-on. “Maya. If you carryin’ it? I’d raise ten.”

She laughs, hiding her face in his neck. “Okay, now you tryna trap me.”

“Too late,” he says, flipping her gently onto her back again, crawling on top of her with that slow, smug smile. “You been mine.”

They lie like that for a while, chest to chest, legs tangled, breath brushing breath.

“I like days like this,” Maya murmurs, fingers trailing down his back.

“Me too,” he says against her collarbone. “All you, all day.”

She hums, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t ever let this be temporary.”

Stack kisses her slow. Long. Like a vow sealed with his mouth.

“It won’t,” he promises. “I’m locked in.”

——

Taglist: @gtf-o-m-d @spookysanta @michelley-rome @bigjh @anniensmoke3 @hdfen2474 @uzumaki-rebellion @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @killmongerdispussy @theogbadbitch @ccwpidsblog @princesskillmonger @blowmymbackout @theethighpriestess @blktinkerbell @steampunkprincess147 @diamondsinterlude @partylikemajima @theegoldenchild @mhhhhmmmmmmm @lilchubbs @thebumblebeesworld @mastertia221b @brownskincheyenne @belleofthefloor @c0tt0ncandi @irefusetobeacasualty @cocoxciv-blog @melodyofmbaku @lb-xci @christinabae @babygirl-4986

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I Don't Need A Veil to Be Your Wife

Summary: Annie tries to convince Smoke they don't need an elaborate wedding, but he has his mind made up. He must have forgot the girl who he is trying to spend his life with.

Contains: Non- Coogler timeline, Smoke x Annie sex, cunnilingus, angst (of course) but it's Smoke so... PART TWO OF TWO

Ten days out from their wedding date, Annie started out sweet. “Another one” she insisted, her voice enticing as she tilted her mouth toward Elijah’s after he kissed her. Until he had kissed her over a dozen times, and her lips felt overly warm and she could see need melting something deep in him. But he would always pull away, clearing his throat and shaking his head slightly. But Annie was nothing if not persistent. Eight days out, she held onto Elijah’s forearms as he kissed her, keeping him close to her as they kissed. And she could feel it working, could feel his breath straining, feel the tension steadying his arms and his frame and she leaned into him soft and pliant. In between kisses Annie studied him, saw the determination in his gaze twisting with something else. It reminded her of how powerful she felt beneath him those years ago,when they were only children. Only she could pin that neediness and softness to her Elijah, and after all that each of them had seen in their time apart, only she had seen him like that. But instead of giving into that, giving into her, Elijah stood up straighter, locked something inside him in place, and kissed her on the forehead, tender and sweet and not the direction she wanted to take him. Day six, with less than a week left, Annie added her Creole. She and Elijah were alone in the front room of her store and her home,the space they always came back to. They had spent the day solidifying details that Annie had no context for, listening to Bo and Stack poke fun and keep secrets like they were all still fourteen,which put a bug up her skirt and made her extra needy for affection. “Again.” she commanded her obliging Elijah, who leaned down again to kiss her mouth. “Mon amour.” she breathed into his waiting mouth, melting into Elijah’s arms, making him pull her closer to steady her. “Tanpri, bébé” she continued, her voice low with want. “Please, baby.” “Now they were pressed together, no room for Elijah to pull away from her need” Ou konnen sa mwen vle.  Mwen konnen ou vle sa tou.” Annie spoke, feeling her voice shake. 

She could see Elijah register her words,  “You know what I want. I know you want it too.” Annie could see him holding himself steady against her swaying words and her body against his. She could see his jaw tight and working, see the fire in his eyes as they bore down on her. “Baby.” he said, his voice breaking a bit like they were teens again. He was trying hard, Annie knew. But she also knew she could try harder. Annie reached down between them, finding space where there was no space. She grazed his manhood, and found it hard and arching toward her, defying his will, and she grasped it, making Elijah buck into her hand and bite off a cry that filled the room. Annie moaned in response. Their first time was quiet with their intention and their emotions and their lack of experience, but this time their bodies were crying out in need. “Baby- Annie, wait.” Elijah said, his voice sounding like the man in front of her and the boy who showed up every night to rub her sore feet. Full of need he was trying with all his might to contain so that it didn’t overwhelm her. But now, just like them, Annie could handle him. “I need you. Need you to give me a lil more time baby. I promise I’ll make it worth it. I wanna make it right, make it good for you. I promise.” Elijah said, his shoulders bowed so that his breath was warm directly in her ear, ghosting over her chest and. He was trying and failing to pull himself out of her grasp, and Annie knew she was so close to getting what she wanted. She massaged Elijah through his pants, hearing and feeling his breath shudder at her touch. “Donn' li mwen, bèl.  I'm mwen.” she insisted, leaning into him more, so that their hips were grazing “Give it to me, love. It's mine.”

 “I will.You know I will.” Elijah responded, placing kisses on the curve of her shoulder where his head rested, walking her backward. Annie had already given into his touch so she gave no thought to where he was leading her, and only realized when the back of her thighs hit the front counter. “Annie. God. What are you doing to me.” Elijah said. She didn’t answer, she had lost her words to the feel of his mouth on her, but she thought ‘the same thing you doing to me. And like he had a way of doing, Elijah read her mind loud and clear as he hoisted her up onto the counter, stepping in between her legs. “You been thinking ‘bout this baby? This what you been getting at with all them kisses?” he asked, standing up straight, looking down at her intently. Annie nodded, holding onto his arms to brace herself. At first she had folded in his arms with the intention of pulling him closer, but she had long since lost control. “I know, baby.” Elijah soothed, kissing her on her mouth again, his tongue slipping into her mouth and taking her by surprise. “I know I been denying you. I don’t wanna be mean. You know I hate the thought of hurting you. It hurt, baby?” he asked her, finally reaching his fingers up her skirt. 

Seeing Elijah bend to her will was always thrilling, but this was better. Seeing him sure and knowing exactly what she needed. “Uh-huh.” Annie breathed as his fingers grazed the meeting of her thighs. “I know, I’m sorry.” he cooed, and then he kissed her again. She was burning in arms, sure that he could feel it, could just feel what he was doing to her, and sure that now, after all this time, he would give her what she wanted. But then he pulled his fingers away from her and from under her skirt, wet with the evidence of her soul deep need. “I really am sorry baby, but it’s only a lil while longer. And I’ll never make you wait again.” Elijah said, looking down at her. He brought his glistening fingers up to his mouth and kissed them the way that he had kissed her, then put them in his mouth, his lips working. Annie’s mouth fell open in bewilderment. Elijah wanted her, she saw it, she felt it, and not just in his hard dick in the palm of her hand, in the way that he breathed and looked at her. She knew and he knew. And he was just dragging it out to torture her. “You’re being mean.” Annie said, her voice slightly shaking, with need and with anger. “No more mean than you being to me.” he tsked, like he was her father and not her man. “Tempting me, eyes all soft, baby please, baby please.Knowing I can’t say no to you.” “You saying no right now.” Annie argued. “I’m saying not right now.” he countered in that logical way that he always had. “Damn it, Elijah. Is 6 measly ass days going to ruin whatever plan you got working, to just give me what I want.” “Yes, if I take you and fuck you in the front room where you stand on your feet selling plates and medicine and shit to hungry and sick people all day, instead of laying you down soft and taking my time like you deserve.” “So in a week when we come back to this house after the wedding, it’ll magically be different?” she asked him, her eyes burning up into him. “Yes, and don’t you worry about how.” he said, stepping from between her legs, the proof of his desire still tenting his pants.This was just as much her Elijah as the sweet, obliging man she had been interacting with since he came home. The Elijah that was stubborn and strong willed and held to his principles over anything.But she was still her too, and nobody but her  had ever decided what was best for her.

 For the next three days, where Elijah was busier than ever being secretive with his brother and Bo, and where their first adult argument sat unaddressed between them, Annie simmered. Her patience had gone from thin to nonexistent. Her understanding was gone, as she felt Elijah’s was for her and what she felt. When Elijah came by in the evening, she was not waiting at the door to greet him. When he came in, she was often busy mixing or packaging something, sweeping or cleaning something, and did not approach him with her smiling mouth tilting up toward his for a kiss and another and another. When he came to her, smiling soft and disarming, she did not smile back, only asking what he needed from her. And even though that smile made her inside flip, Annie held strong, even when he said “I only ever needed you, baby.” But she did let him kiss her. As many times as he wanted. 

It all came to a head the afternoon before what Elijah had decided was their wedding day. Annie was still working, and she was explaining to Tawny Jackson’s husband Eddie how to administer the tea she had blended for her after her most recent birth, which had been a bit difficult. Annie didn’t acknowledge Elijah as he walked in, just kept telling Eddie that the St. John’s wort was to lift her mood, and the shepard’s purse seed and yarrow extract was to help with the bleeding, and that if things got too crazy, at any time, he should send for her immediately. Day or night. “You gone be a lil indisposed for the next few days.” Elijah spoke, locking the door as Eddie left out and walking toward the counter that Annie stood behind. “I’m sorry, I’m not looking at this like my life is ending tomorrow night. I still got work to do.” Annie spoke, busying her hands with cleaning up the materials she had set out for Eddie and Tawny. “Naw, it’s beginning.” Elijah said, conservative with his words as he eyed her from under the brim of his hat, looking down at her with wolflike eyes. “That party ain’t gone go for days, is it?” Annie questioned, keeping her voice flat, and the tremble out of her fingers. She saw Elijah eyeing her slow moving hands before he spoke. “No, but then it’s you and me. And we got some lost time to make up for.” he responded, his eyes not lifting from Annie’s fingers. Annie dropped the satchel that she was holding in left hand, and covered it with her palm like that would somehow stop Elijah from seeing how thoroughly he was undoing her. 

Annie never quite saw the Smoke Moore that most people knew. She saw traces of him, steely and calculating and resolved. Mostly in the way people treated him, like he was a bomb with a deceptively long fuse. She knew Stack, he couldn’t help but be the flashy powder keg that he had always been, full of life and attaching to any whim, but Elijah was always more compartmented. There was a part of him that she rarely saw, and a part that only she saw, and right then, at her serving counter, those two parts were mixing in a way that was dangerous for her resolve. Quietly, he came around the counter and into her space. Something charged between them, and Annie couldn’t move out of fear that it explode into something she had never witnessed before. Elijah stepped closer, impossibly closer, and lifted her hand by the wrist, delicately and slowly. Annie struggled to draw in breath, but said “I got work to do.” “I don’t see nobody.” Elijah responded simply, his gaze never lifting off her. “Somebody could come, it’s midday in the fields. People always need something.” Annie said, her voice high and tight and strained, sounding even more wound up as it opposed Elijah’s which was low and syrupy and intent. Annie exhaled. “Door locked.” he said, his torso stood still at her side. He lifted her hand, delicately by the wrist, up to his mouth where he kissed her fingers. Like he had the other night. Annie’s body warmed with recognition, and she saw that Elijah saw what he was doing to her. She saw that smile, different from the one he kept just for her. This was the smile of a man who got what he wanted, and was working toward getting what he wanted then and there. 

“You don’t see them windas?” Annie asked, her vernacular slipping into her Creole, like it always did when Elijah was making her body respond before her mind could. Soon she would be babbling, “Mon ti bébé, mon amour.” and who knew what else. “I see ‘em, I picked ‘em out special for you. Did I tell you we got them windows from an old farmhouse? I got em because they so big, and I wanted you to always take in all the light.” Elijah spoke, his voice low in her ear, her wrist still in his fingers. “They nice and big, and anybody can see in ‘em from a mile away.” she responded, ignoring the emotion that Elijah’s words had brought up in her. “You right as usual, darlin. But I got a fix for that.” he replied low, stepping directly behind Annie. “I don’t think I told you, baby, about what else I learned over there in Europe.” Elijah said, his voice ghosting over her. He let go of her wrist, and Annie clenched her fist, free of his touch and not exactly wanting to be. She could feel his smirk, could feel his seeing eyes taking her apart. And it was always so easy for him to do so. “After them women told me about they weddings, and it was just all us men, we talked about the wedding night. They told me that it was something else I could do that we didn’t that night before I left.” His presence felt like a pressing weight behind her, physical even though they weren’t touching. 

“I was going to save it for tomorrow, after I took you home, but you breaking my heart, love. You know it make me crazy when you mad at me.” he said, leaning down in her ear from behind, his words soft in the shell of her ear, but still intense. Annie barely suppressed a shudder. “Don’t seem like it.” she said shortly, shifting her legs so her thighs pressed together. “It’s true, baby. You know I can’t stand to tell you no, especially when you look up at me with big ol eyes. And with you mad at me? Not talking to me? No kisses? I been going crazy counting down the days until I could make it up to you, to tell you I’m sorry.I been running around so much I ain’t been giving you what you need” he said to her, pressing his body to hers, gently and with intention. Annie felt the weight of his sex pressing onto her from behind. It was maddening, this was what she wanted. What her body had been crying out for since she heard someone come and report that Elijah and his brother were driving through the cotton fields toward the center of town.”You know I’m sorry, right baby?” he whispered in her ear, as close as possible to her as he could get without being inside her. 

Annie nodded quickly and wordlessly. She felt him move away from her a bit, giving her blessed and cursed space to think and breathe, which she did and didn’t want. But then she felt him lowering behind her. “I know people can see, love. But I need you. Been needing you, and I need to give you what you need.” he said, ducking his head under her long work skirt. His hand came up her front, encircling her, and bent her slightly at the waist, pushing her ass closer to his face. Annie couldn’t speak or think or retort or move away from him. Elijah had her, he had her at his mercy and he knew it. He bent her further, so that she had to brace her forearms on the counter. “You know all i wanna do is take care of you forever.” he said simply, the air from his breath teasing her upper thighs. Annie stood on her toes, instinctively, bringing her sex closer to the warmth of Elijah’s mouth. “There she go.” Elijah said, like he was greeting an old friend. And then the fingers on his free hand pulled the damp seat of her panties sideways, exposing her pussy to him fully, and his full, playful, knowing, perfect mouth was on her intent on taking her out of herself. Annie gasped loud and sharp into the quiet of the room now that Elijah’s mouth was on her. Her breath sawed out of her loud as she pushed her throbbing pussy into his mouth, her forearms taking on more weight as Elijah removed the arm that was around her waist and used both hands open her up, his thumb hooked into the seat of her panties holding them to the side as he licked and sucked on her. 

“Shit” Annie forced out, like she was shocked, which was partially true. What Eliijah was doing to her from behind was like nothing she had ever ever felt before, even when she touched herself out of missing him, and also like exactly  what he should be doing to her. Annie’s mind blanked as she let Elijah feast on her, his tongue sliding up and down her slit warm firm, before he settled low wrapping his tongue and lips around her bud, sucking and making it feel like her blood was lightning, like she wasn’t human, like she was just whatever feeling Elijah inspired in her, like she was just the pleasure he was wringing from her. And while Annie was panting, incapable of making words in Creole or English, Elijah was speaking to her through her pussy. “Oh my God, baby. You taste so fucking good.” he growled, his voice muffled. “You taste so perfect, Annie. I could eat you forever and not get enough.” Annie felt her legs go weak, her heart was beating so hard it felt like it would tumble out of her chest. “You know that baby? That you the best thing I ever tasted?” “Non.” Annie answered in a shaking breath, too caught up in feeling to do anything but respond honestly. “Well you is.” Elijah said firmly, landing a solid smack on her bare asscheek that made her whole body start shaking. “Damn, best thing I ever seen, too. You look so good bent over for me like this, baby. So fucking good. The prettiest thing I ever seen, all soaking wet for me. All shaking. You bouta cum baby? I need to see it.” Elijah said before wrapping his lips back around her button and making her lose what little control she had left. Annie’s arms gave out, and her torso was laid against the counter, arching her lower body up even more and giving Elijah even more access to torture her with his tongue, to make her vision blur with tears and make her cry out with stuttering  words that weren’t words. She was incoherent, a babbling shaking mess, gushing everywhere. 

Annie’s mind was thinking a million partial thoughts. She loved this man more than anything. She wanted this feeling every day forever, but she couldn’t take it, it was too much but she didn’t want him to pull his mouth away. She felt herself come into an understanding that so many women knew all too well. Understood the women who beat down her grandmama’s door begging for roots to bring their men home, with what Elijah was doing to her, she could understand the desperation to never have him make anyone else feel how she felt; open and completely his. She got the knowing glances grown women shot each other, the meaning behind phrases like “he bought the woman outta me” and “he just got a hold on me.” Because as Elijah drove her pleasure higher and impossibly higher, Annie felt the exact same way. He had her, he could have whatever he wanted from her, if he wanted to wait another month to make himself hers, she would wait. If he wanted to cancel it all and take her back to her bed, she wouldn’t hold the wasted time against him. Then Elijah slipped his middle finger inside her, and all conscious thought fled. She was only feeling, only an extension of what Elijah was doing to her with his hands and his mouth knowing exactly where and how to touch her to make her shake apart into tiny pieces that he held in his hands. Annie tried to pull forward, away from the blissful torture of Elijah’s mouth and his hands, but he was intent on keeping her right where she was. His hands, steady even as they were wet with her, pressed into the soft flush of her hips, holding Annie still against his mouth as it gently and insistently took her apart. Outside of herself, Annie could hear that her loud cries had softened into whimpers that harmonized with Elijah’s low growls of satisfaction and praise. She could feel that she was only being held up by the counter in front of her and the man behind her. It was all too much, but she didn’t have the words to stop it, or the desire to. So Annie let Elijah take her where he wanted her to go. 

Annie awoke without realizing she had been asleep. It was night, she could see no traces of the sun, and she was in her bed, in her night clothes. And Elijah was standing, leaning against the doorway, watching down at her with a satisfied smile. “What time is it?” Annie asked, her voice raspy as she sat up. Her bones felt loose, like she was less held together than before. Elijah had sat a glass of water beside the bed, which Annie was glad for and savored. “Round 8 o'clock.” The response made Annie jump out of bed, eyes searching for the dress Elijah must have taken off her after she fell asleep. “Has Eddie been back here?” Annie asked, thinking of the nervous man that she saw that afternoon, and the baby that he was looking after. Annie was no midwife, that had always been more of her mama, but she had been at her elbow enough to see how quick an infant and its mama could take a bad turn. “Nah,  don’t think so. I stepped out for a bit to take care of something but there was nothing-” Elijah started to explain before Annie cut him off with a look, kissing her teeth. She didn’t speak as she redressed, mind already on how she would get to Eddie and Tawny’s at that hour to put eyes on the family herself, just to be sure. It was dark out, but not too late, she could get there in around 45 minutes if she walked fast, and she already had a bag ready with some essentials that she always kept on hand. “Baby it’s late.” Elijah said, his tone soothing as he read her intent, “and we have an early day tomorrow.” “I got a job to do.” Annie said sharply, tossing a look over her shoulder at him as she headed toward the door. “I still had things to take care of, and I had no intention of sleeping the day away. But lately it don’t seem like what I want, who I am, really matters as much as your plans for me.” Annie said. 

This was no time to have this argument, but with everything that she had held back, and the wedding looming, Annie couldn’t hold her tongue. Couldn’t become one of them women who bit her tongue for her man.“It’s not like that, baby.” Elijah said, stepping toward her as she moved around the room. “That’s what it’s seemed like since you came back here. You been planning this wedding, talking about our future, with everybody but me. I don’t even know what the damn dress looks like, Elijah. But I never cared about any of that, I just wanted to be with you. And I knew that all this meant a lot to you, so I didn’t complain; when you didn’t tell me what was going on, not when you made decisions about me with your brother and Bo… Not when you didn’t touch me.” Annie said, her voice breaking at the end. “Annie, I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.” Elijah explained, his hands reaching for her. But Annie didn’t let him touch her, remembering the way that he had transfixed her with his touch the night before, made her soft and open underneath his hands and his mouth and his attention on her. “But that’s what happened, and I let it happen. Because I love you, Elijah. But this is my work. It’s who I am, and people need me.” Annie told Elijah, her voice low and efficient. She was ready to go and tend to the Jackson family, but she had to finish her piece first. “Life didn’t stop when you and your brother left Mississippi.” Annie said, finally facing Elijah who stood still in the middle of the room, his body rigid, his eyes intent on her. What she didn’t say- life didn’t stop when you left me- hung in the air between them. They both felt the heaviness of the statement when Annie spoke again. “You left and I understood. I waited for you to come home to me safe and whole. And I waited so for us to get married and start our life, like we always wanted, like you said that you dreamt of since we was fifteen. But my life didn’t stop, Elijah. My life kept going with people needing me and loving me and me loving them. It might not have been traveling across the world, seeing and doing all kinds of things that two sixteen year olds couldn’t have dreamed up, but it means something to me. My life is here, it’s gone be here, and it matters just the way it is.” Annie said. 

Elijah looked struck by her words, his brows lowered like the words that she had said were working their way through him, paining him. He had never been the best with words, Stack was always better at explaining for the both of them, but Annie knew where to look to see his emotions play all over his physical self. The furrow of his brows, the pull of the corner of his lips like he was fighting the deepening frown, the way he held his body stark still like any little thing would send him to pieces. With everything laid out between them, the entire room felt heavy. Annie by the door, her bag packed to do be a part of something that Elijah wasn’t privy to, him still and wanting her to stay, to be with him. Annie took no joy in the reversal. Before they could speak Annie heard something approaching from the distance, snatching her attention. As quick as it could, an old mule was hauling Eddie Jackson toward the storefront, his body tense. It was almost like this is what made Annie wake up, made her get dressed and grab her bag and be by the door. Annie met the worried man where he was practically jumping from the nag to get to her. “Annie, thank God. The baby won’t stop crying, and Tawny can barely keep her head up. It wasn’t like this with the first baby.Please, you said send for you, please.” Eddie rushed out. Annie smiled softly at him, her tone soothing “Already got my bag packed, Eddie. Let’s go see about that lil one.” “Annie” Elijah called from the doorway behind her, but she didn’t turn to acknowledge him. Instead she mounted the sturdy mule behind Eddie. Even if Elijah didn’t quite see it, people needed her here, and she would always be there for them. Tawny and the baby were fine- it was a mixture of a very large and hungry baby, an exhausted mama and an incredibly nervous daddy. Annie stayed the night though, mixing pap milk for the baby, Hezekiah, who drank eagerly, and making some Mother’s Milk tea for Tawny, who appreciated Annie’s presence and her reassurance through the night. Every time the baby made a sound louder than a sigh, Eddie looked over to her for assurance, and every time Tawny drifted off to sleep he scooped his son into his arms, checking him over, picking up his arms to look at his plump hands, sniffing that soft baby smell at the top of his head. Annie felt like she was witnessing something magical, and even though she had seen many a baby born it always felt like something holy. Her mama used to say that helping a child come into the world was as close to God as she ever felt and even though Annie had chosen to follow her grandmother’s root work, it was times like that, seeing a family open up to accommodate a new life, Annie understood the gravity of what she meant. 

 Annie woke in the early morning with the sunrise and Eddie’s departure to the fields as he had leased himself for Sunday work while Tawny was recovering and could not work, and the first thing that she thought of was her wedding day. It was a day that she had thought of as a far off fantasy when she waited for Elijah to come home from across the ocean that felt worlds away, something that played in her mind when she drifted off to sleep at night missing him the most, something that tangled up with the memory of their last night before he left, all soft and tender. And when Elijah returned, it was a desire that she wrestled with alongside her desire to give Elijah what he wanted after years of not being able to be there for him even when that’s all that she ever wanted to do since she looked into his eyes. After the fear and anger of living under his father became the fear and anger of living in the town who knew for years the hell those boys lived through and suddenly had opinions after they saved themselves. Annie had gone through the widest range of emotions thinking about becoming Elijah Moore’s wife; and as she packed up her bag, checked on Tawny and the baby once more and headed out of the intimate family home and into the early morning. The cool and the quiet of the early morning was fading as the sun rose and the Sunday workers and worshippers with it. Most people were walking and riding with a purpose, headed toward church in their good clothes for Sunday worship, but Annie was more aimless. She should have been rushing home to be put into her dress and whisked off into Elijah’s fantasy and their lives together, but Annie felt herself dragging as she walked which she never did. Deep in thought, Annie walked against the tide of people who called to her on their way to their destinations. Every step of her relationship with Elijah, Annie felt a calm of a right decision. From the day that he stood up to give her directions and she walked with him, to the day that she let him go off into the world, Annie felt the bone deep calm of knowing that she was making the right choice because she felt the approval of her ancestors all around her. In the safety that she felt with the boy who started off as a stranger, and in her own ability to decide what was right for herself because she had her ancestors as guides.That was one of the first things that she learned in life; one of her earliest memories were her grandmama teaching her to pay reverence to their ancestors, the alters and the prayers and the rituals that thanked them and called to them and kept an open conversation through everything that Annie did. Usually she didn’t even really have to ask for advice, only look for the signs that they left for her, that morning though, Annie’s usual calm that she felt with her decisions was replaced by an unease that sat on her skin and settled into her making her feel twitchy and anxious.

Annie realized where she had walked to before she realized that she had walked there. If she hadn’t been meandering she wouldn’t have ended up there, she hadn’t been there in years- a spot that one of them had found that only kids could, a small low area in between two large farms that had been abandoned for as long as any of them could remember, only marked by the large tree that had long since stopped producing any fruit. All one of them had to say was “meet me by the big tree, and they would be there, sitting on the raised roots of the tree to talk about whatever was urgent in their young minds. They had spent hours and hours there, Annie and the twins and Bo and Mary when she could make the trek because she lived the furthest away. Sometimes Grace when she was able but they always ended up walking to the store to catch her up to the conversation. Annie had never been to the big tree alone; after the twins left it didn’t feel the same anymore, like that part of their childhood was over. But Annie found herself there, a slight ache in her back from sleeping on and off in a chair all night, perched on a root that she had probably sat on a hundred times before, thinking more about her past than her future. None of them had had it easy; the twins had it worst off and they all knew it, their mama and their goddamn daddy, the busted lips and the cigar burns and the anger that they inherited and tried to shake off in their own ways- Stack trying to outrun it by being everybody’s favorite and Elijah by being everybody’s protector. And Mary, growing into a woman and suddenly straddling two worlds, both violent in their own way, both dangerous for her to be in but one leaving her much more of a target and unprotected in ways that none of them could do anything real damn thing about. Bo, one of the only people like him in all of the surrounding counties,  taking over his daddy’s store as he grew older, taking on more and more that he wasn’t even sure if he ever wanted. Knowing that he would probably never see his home again. And Annie, dealing with the death of her daddy just because some white men only liked how good he was at cards when they weren’t winning even though her mama had told him over and over that money from them people always came at a deeper cost. Annie, never able to go back to Louisiana because once her daddy was gone and there was just a house full of women, the man that they leased their land from was demanding more and more money, coming around in the evening and letting himself in, eyeing them all; so they picked up and left before he decided to charge a price that they all knew would come due. 

They all had it hard, just like everybody that they knew. But they had each other, and as she sat in the shade of the big tree that  belonged to all of them, Annie realized that that is what she was feeling the lack of since Elijah came home to her. Not the fact that he was making her wait to marry when that’s all they talked about before he left, or the fact that he was holding fast to the fact that he didn’t want to touch her even when it was obvious that they both burned red hot for each other after all that time. It was the fact that he was shutting her out of something that meant so much to him. They never hid anything from each other, even the difficult things, even the dark things. Annie knew him like the back of her hand for as long as she remembered, except for their wedding, and it hurt more than she had let herself feel. She wrote it off as a bump in the road of their life, she let him have it because it meant so much, she focused on the future, but it felt like a dismissal. Of Annie’s thoughts, of her desires, of the life that she had carried on, shaped for herself and was proud of. That was the crux of it, and even though she knew that Elijah meant well, that was what it was. And Annie sat with that, the weight and reality of it. She had forgiven Elijah for a lot; for the ways that he acted out of hurt and anger sometimes,  leaving when he did and how he did, because he was hers even when he was flawed just like she was his. But he knew how seriously Annie took her work and her life, and she didn’t know if she could forgive that disregard. Didn’t know if she could start a life with him if it meant her life became lesser. 

Annie didn’t know how long she had sat there in her contemplation, with no urgency to go back to her home where she knew that the plans that were made without her suddenly needed her. She thought about the women that she knew and loved and learned to be a woman from- how they were full of good ideas and strong opinions, how they moved through the world getting what they needed and giving to others, and she imagined how it would feel to be any other kind of woman. She thought about Elijah and what he must have been thinking and feeling, and if he knew how he had hurt hurt. She thought about the people who would always need her and love her and come to her because they knew that she would help them. She didn’t know how long she was thinking, just felt the sun rising around her and the world fully waking up. And then she felt more than saw Stack coming through the field toward her. She knew it was him the way that she always did, not just because he carried himself differently than his brother, or that she had spent years knowing him, but because he didn’t make her heart wake up the way that Elijah did when he looked at her. Stack didn’t speak when he sat on the ground near her, between two tree roots. “How you know where I was?” Annie asked him. He was dressed sharply, like he and Elijah had been since they came back, he looked like a man who had been around the world, but in that moment he most looked like the boy who used to tell all of them about how one day he would leave Mississippi and never come back, his eyes on her pulling her into his ideas. “Ain’t nowhere else you’d be. I went to go get Smoke early this morning to go pick up the, to go get something.” he corrected himself “and he said you had left, he wouldn’t tell me why but I had an idea. And sure enough you right where I thought you was. I never thought I would come back here, even though I thought about this tree a million times when we was away. I thought about somehow walking up and seeing you and Bo and Mary like no time had passed. I could never tell if it was a good dream or a bad dream, but I was always happy to see ya’ll.” 

“I don’t know if I can do it.” Annie said plainly, laying out the thought that she had been wrestling with for longer than she had realized. Stack didn’t speak, watching her silently. Annie continued. “I pictured marrying your brother a million times, knew that was what I wanted one of the first times he came to my house just to rub my feet because I said they had been aching. I knew, we were just fifteen and I was sure, and now I’m not. And I never been unsure about Elijah.” Stack didn’t speak for a long moment, rare for him, and they sat in silence. “My brother-” he started, and Annie imagined the next sentence- that Elijah was sorry. Or that he had meant well, or that all he wanted to do was start his life with her. All things that Annie had thought. But that’s not what he said. “My brother, he scared.” “Scared?” Annie asked. She had seen emotions from Elijah that she was sure most people never would, and she had never seen fear out of him. Even after he came to her in the night, explaining how that last time with his father had been the last time for good, his face was set with more determination than anything. She had seen him weather things at such a young age that would break most other people, so Annie had never associated him with fear. Stack turned to her, not concerned with the dirt on his pants “Our whole life, Smoke felt like he was just there for the bad shit. He know how to clean up any mess, especially mine, he know how to fix something and turn it right, and he know how to muscle through. And I think he just took that on, like that’s what he was made for. But you, you always been so good. Good for him, good to him and to everybody else, and I don’t think he know what to do.” 

“He don’t have to do anything.” Annie said like she was talking to Elijah himself. “You know he never gone go for that.Smoke feel like anything good he get he gotta work five times as hard for. And you the best thing that ever happened to him, besides me” Stack said, bumping his knee with hers. The realization washed over Annie like a wave, swaying her foundation. Her Elijah, always hers, always there with whatever she wanted no matter how fickle, he was scared to what, lose her? Break her heart? Not be enough for her? She had never even considered any of that, but she could see it clear as day. Stack must have seen how the realization was hitting her, because his next words were soft and measured. “I can’t dictate about love to nobody, you know that.” Stack said, his voice taking on a tone Annie understood, knew he was thinking about the girl that hehad left in Mississippi. “But I know my brother wanted to be with you everyday that we was over there fighting that fucking war. He never talked about it, and he wouldn’t let me bring it up neither, like talking about it around all that death and all that misery would taint it.But I saw it in everything he did.” Annie thought about her times in the dawn and the dusk, wrapped up in that quilt and their memories, practically feeling him there with her. She knew there was a time difference, but Annie wondered if he was thinking of her at those times too. Annie felt herself softening, and thought about her morning, what her hands knew and what her heart loved and how that was always just as important. “So you think that I should just go with this, be this woman on a shelf so that Elijah never got to worry about breaking me?” she asked. 

“Naw, that’s not what I’m saying. I know you would never go for that even if I was. I’m saying that fear make men move stupid sometimes. That my brother loves you even when he’s being stupid, and that if the only thing standing between ya’ll getting the life you want is him being scared to hurt you and you being scared to lose something of you, then that’s a easy fix. Easiest fix in the world.” Stack said, and he was staring out at the grass, somewhere partially in the past. Again, Annie knew he was thinking about Mary, and everything that was standing between the two of them. She thought about the pair of brothers, both missing home and the women who made it home, and how different it must have felt coming back to both of them being women in the world. And she knew that she was going to forgive him, knew that she always was. She was going to tell him to get out of his own way, and she was going to tell him that she didn’t give a damn about what anyone else’s marriage looked like because she was her and he was marrying her not some woman living in a castle, and she was going to kiss him the way that she had been missing and get be his wife by the end of that day even if she had to wear a dress she had never seen. 

“Where is he?” Annie asked Stack, who unfolded his legs from underneath him and extending a hand to pull her up in one motion, knowing what she meant without speaking. “Well he should be at Willie Keyser’s barn, but he’s with Bo. And don’t tell him I told you about the barn neither.” Stack said, walking to the car that he had left off the side of the road. The meandering that she was doing earlier was replaced by a purpose that pulled her toward Elijah. Stack drove to match her pace without her having to explain, and they were pulling up to the store, Annie jumping out and walking to the entrance before she thought about what she would say. It was afternoon and lots of people were in and out of the store doing their shopping, but Annie only had eyes for one person. “Hey Annie.” Bo said from behind the counter, hisbrows raising, his eyes taking her in, and Stack out by the car. “Bo, where’s Smoke.” Annie asked, ready to be talking directly to him about them. “Back room.” Bo said, nodding his head toward the door. When Annie entered, Elijah was sitting in the corner by the window, his energy taking up most of the room. It was heavy, making the air in the room move slow, and when Annie walked in, shutting the door behind her, she was in it with him. He stood immediately, moving slowly toward her. Not like  the night before, like Smoke, like he was closing in on her to get what he wanted, but like he was the boy that she first met what felt like decades ago, like he was scared that his feelings would overwhelm her. “Why you hiding back here?” Annie asked him when he stopped and stood in front of her, close enough to touch. “Didn’t know where else to go. Bo came by to get the day started, he was gonna shut the store down for the day, but I told him to hold off.” “Bo? Shut this place down?” Annie asked “I had to tell him I’d pay him a flat rate for the day.” he explained. It felt like there was something else between them, and that was the last thing that Annie wanted. 

“Stack came and got me.Over by the big tree” Annie said, and saw Elijah clench his jaw slightly, steeling himself, or maybe remembering the same way that she had been, a time when things felt more simple even when they all had less control of their lives. “But I wanted to come and talk to you. I thought a lot this morning.” Annie said, watching as he nodded, jaw still tight. She hated to see him tense for a fight, he looked the least like himself when he was on the defense. “I’m different than the girl you left here.” Annie started, watching as Elijah’s gaze swept over her, her mind going to the previous night before she bought it back. “And I know you different in a thousand ways too. But what we wanted is still the same, I think” Annie said. “It is. I want you to be my wife. I want to be your husband, I want to be with you and that’s all that matter.” he said. “But that’s not all that matter. I love you and you love me, but our lives ain’t never been just us. You got your brother, I got my work, we got friends and loved ones and a long life ahead of us that’s gone be full of a million things we gone have to deal with. And I mean we, you never gone have to deal with any of it alone.” Annie said, stepping closer to him, closing the distance. “It’s probably never gone be easy, but the life I got is yours,Elijah Moore. Every day of it, even when you was away. I don’t need a big service, I don’t need what them rich women got, I don’t need a veil to be your wife.” she continued, watching something soften behind his eyes. “I feel like I took so much time from us.” he spoke, his arms at his side like he was stopping himself from holding her, until he apologized for his transgression. “And I wanted to make it all worth it. I wanted to be the man you always deserved.” “You always was.” Annie replied, stepping closer, putting her hand on his chest, feeling the satchel that tied there right against the steady beat of his heart those years ago. He still didn’t move into her comfort, holding himself back. 

“I don’t know how to be a husband. I never thought about how to be a man, I just did what I had to do. But I wanted to be a good husband for you, and I- I  was selfish,baby. I know that, I’m sorry.” Elijah said to her, his voice low and steady, like he was marching the words out of his mouth. Annie knew that he was giving his all to her then and there. “I took a moment that should have been about us and made it about me, about proving that I could be the man you deserve. I know what people think about me and my brother, what we are. And I didn’t want that hanging over us. I wanted to be good enough for you.” he said, leaning into her touch like he was spent. Annie thought about what Stack said, how hard Elijah always worked to be good for her. “Elijah, you was always everything I ever wanted.” she said simply. There was so much more that she could say, she could tell him that what anybody else thought about them never crossed her mind. She could tell him that he was perfect for her, that she’d known that years ago, but she had years to tell him that with her every breath and every moment that they spent together. Right then, Annie just wanted to be his. She had been patient, and she had been impatient, but now she was just ready. She leaned in, tilting her head up for her lips to meet his, feeling the soft exhale of tension leaving his body. When their lips met, Elijah wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, where she belonged. They didn’t have to say anything else about it. That was the beauty of loving Elijah since they were practically children. Annie knew him. And with what Stack told her, there was still more to learn and love about him and that was what Annie wanted to do for the rest of their lives and after that. 

They had kissed plenty since Elijah’s return- he had obliged her every time she asked, soothed her as he asked her to be patient, but this was different. It wasn’t about Elijah or about her, it was a reunion, and a long awaited one. As they kissed in the back room of Chow’s Groceries, among boxes and sacks and dust Annie poured into Elijah, her front pressed into him, her arm looped through his casually. It felt like their future- easy and natural and intense with the satisfied longing of two people who were made to be together and finally were.  After a time, Elijah pulled his mouth away from hers and called out above her head. “BO” “What?” their friend called through the door and the din of the customers. “Stack still out there?” “Nah” Elijah’s mouth tightened in that way it only ever did because of his brother. His eyes took her in, then moved back to the door. Annie felt him forming some type of plan, but before she could ask he called out again. “Lend me your keys.” “The keys to my damn car, Smoke? Hell no” Bo yelled back, before saying something too low for neither she or Elijah to hear, most likely to a customer. Elijah’s face took on that firm set determination that it did when something was between him and what he needed before he looked down at her, his brow softening. “Be right back baby.” he said softly, putting space between them that felt harsher than whatever he was thinking about the stubborn shopkeeper. And he was out the room, walking at a quick clip that he always had, charging forward steady and like he had what he was after already at his fingertips, all he had to do was grab it. And Annie was alone again, for the first time since she sat amongst all of their memories this morning. In this room that she had spent plenty time in and out of back before she had her own work to tend to full time, Annie thought about the course of the day, of the days since the Smokestack twins, mostly the quiet one who hung back like he had nothing that he had to say until he did, had reappeared in her life and knocked it off kilter again just like they had when she was fresh from the Bayou with all of the loss and all of the love that she had swirled up inside of her. 

When Elijah came back, he spoke before Annie had a chance to ask. “Annie, can I take you home?” he asked, holding what she assumed was Bo’s keys in his closed hand. “Home?” Annie questioned, confused. She had been ready to marry him, sure of it after talking to Stack and after seeing Elijah look at her with those same brown eyes that had always softened just for her like he was looking at something delicate. And now he was taking her home? She had been ready to put on the dress and be whisked off, and now he was dropping her off to go and be away from her? Annie felt her breath quicken, her earlier affection  burning away to a quick anger that tempered the old hurt underneath. “I wanna go home with you.” Elijah said simply, from the doorway. “But the wedding-” Annie started. “That don’t rightly matter to me no more, just you. I let Bo know, all I wanna do is take you home, Annie.”He said it like it was simple, his mind made up. “You did all that secret keeping, and I know you had to spend some money. And now we just going home?” Annie asked, her eyes narrowing in scrutiny, making Elijah dip his head to deflect her gaze which only made her step closer to him. “I don’t wanna argue.” he said low, lifting his eyes to her, open and soft. “I thought I knew what I wanted when I came home, I had it all planned out. But when you walked out last night I realized that all I wanted was to be home with you. Your house was the last place I was before we left Mississippi. I left your bed and me and Stack got on the train with the clothes on our backs. And I thought when I came back I- I just wanna be home with you Annie, please.” he said. He didn’t need to beg, or look at her like she was the only thing that could offer him reprieve. Even when she told Elijah off, even when she stormed off without a look back, she had not wanted to make it hard on him. Life had been hard enough for him, and for her. And she was sure that they would have more hard times. All she wanted was to be with him, that’s all she’d ever wanted. “Okay, take me home.” Annie told him.

When the pair reached Annie’s house, Stack was there, clearly just done moving something out the back of the car. “I wanted to be out ya’lls hair, but ya’ll damn sure move fast. Lucky I’m faster.” he said, flashing a smile at Annie and Elijah and as they exited the car. Stack approached them, his grin wide,the kind of smile that Annie knew meant that he was into something. Elijah met his brother halfway, with Annie on his heels. Something passed between the brothers before Annie’s eyes; Elijah leaned in and hugged Stack, engulfing his twin and placing his hands on his shoulders when he pulled away. “Thank you.” Elijah said simply, his eyes intense. “ ‘Course. I couldn’t stand the idea of all my hard work goin’ to waste. And nobody wanna be around all that moping.” the younger twin joked. “One of us should get the girl we dreamed about in them trenches.” he added, the smile he bore pulling downward for a moment before it returned brighter than before as he addressed Annie. “Ya’ll lucky two I know how to make a party jump no matter what. I’m gone get to that dance floor. Sad you won’t get to see it, but I did what I could.” he said. Annie was curious to know what Stack meant for her and Elijah more than whatever dancefloor he mentioned, and because Elias Moore never lingered after the fun was done, he was already departing. “Run this back to Bo.” Elijah requested, and with one hand Stack grabbed the keys to the borrowed car and with the other he deposited the keys to their car which he’d driven over into his brother’s open palm. “You always been the picture of a blushing bride, Annie. Don’t go too hard on my big brother,Annie, this was his planning but it was all for you from the beginning.” Despite the very Stack-like tilt of his grin and the slouch of his body as he stood in between the fiances and the party that he was going to throw, there was something stonelike and serious in his eye like his brother always carried, and that made Annie call out to him before he left and got into whatever mischief was calling to him. “Don’t these things need a witness?” Annie called out to Stack, making him turn that grin back on her, now full of the fire of an idea forming. “Ya’ll want me to put a few words on this thing?” Stack questioned. Annie looked up at Elijah who was looking down at him, his face subtly questioning. “Well, who else would?” responded. Annie watched Elijah shoot his brother a silencing look that made him laugh out loud, and then all 3 of them were headed inside. 

The twins let Annie cross the threshold into the space where she lived and worked first, allowing her to take it all in while they filed in behind her. Stack had understated the work that he had put in, and it was clearly only a fraction of what they all must have put in for whatever Elijah had originally cooked up.Flowing sheer crepe curtains covered the large front window, unmoving in the still of the afternoon turning to evening and making it feel like her store and her home, which were always open to anyone in need feel like it was secluded and separate from everything but she and Elijah. Stars cut from something silver and shiny hung suspended in the air like they fell from the sky, all in varying sizes, catching the light that stubbornly shone through the window’s covering. Annie turned to the twins, who were both watching her take in the scene with disparate expressions. Stack’s face was one of wide open glee, excited that she was excited. And Elijah’s was more difficult to read, the corner of his mouth was arched upward in a smile, but there was something intense storming in his eyes, something rolling in hard and fast that Annie couldn’t interpret. “I love it, Stack, Thank you.”Annie spoke finally, her voice unexpectedly low with emotion. “Got something else up my sleeve, like always.” Stack joked “go freshen up while I get it ready.” he urged- his excitement obvious,  flinching when his twin shoved his shoulder and adding “if you’d please.”

Annie prepared herself for her wedding in a tender, efficient manner, the same way that she had prepared countless people for the biggest moments of their lives. She stripped out of the clothes that she had worn all night, and bathed herself in water  with rose oil for love, sage and spikenard oil for clarity and High John for everything that she needed. She twisted her hair into a crown around her head, looking in the mirror at herself in the setting sun, and she wished that her mama and her grandmama were there with her in the physical. Her grandmama had always known that Annie and Elijah would end up together, in that quiet, sure way that she knew everything. Even though they were young, and church ladies whispered that them Moore boys were sure to grow up into wild and uncontrollable things, with no mama and the daddy they had; Odette saw the tie binding her grandchild the wounded eye boy that went where she went like a flower turns to the sun, like the tide pulls to the shore- like it was the only thing natural for him to do. And her mama saw who Annie was with the boy. The sure and firm girl softening in subtle ways, that slate hard look she had in her eye since her daddy’s passing replaced with the mellow look of love that Hannah knew all too well because she’d been on the receiving end of it with her own firm lover until he closed his eyes the last time. And as Annie stood in the bedroom that the women shared, she felt them all around her. She picked up her grandmama’s ivory comb with Jasmine flowers carved into it that she kept tucked deep in the dresser drawer and hadn’t worn since her funeral. She hummed ‘Let Me Call You Sweetheart’, a song that made her think of her father. How he wrapped his arms around her mother in the evening, his lips by her ear as she cooked at the stove in the dimming light, always coming home to her.

Annie was awash in memory, softened by the love that was always with her even when the people were gone from her. And then, as she sat in front of the mirror in her bedroom, her grandmama and her mama and the care they had for her sent Mary into the room.Their eyes met in the mirror, Mary’s mouth curled up in that mischievous smile she wore when she got to run with her friends like she wanted to. Annie had seen it a million times, Mary running up in a too nice dress, the hem miraculously free from dirt so she could slip back into wherever she’d escaped from unnoticed, Mary under Stack’s arm, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright. Now she was smiling that smile, her gaze misty. It had been a while since the two women had seen each other; Mary’s obligations were harder to escape from nowadays, and they weren’t gangly children anymore- Mary drew looks wherever she went. “Oh, Annie.” her friend spoke, her tone almost one of awe as she stepped closer. Mary laid something that she carried in her arms onto the bed and walked up to Annie, her hands replacing Annie’s to finish her hair, pinning the comb to the side  and placing a kiss onto Annie’s temple. Their eyes met in the mirror, and everything that they didn’t say passed between them. They both loved men who the world made it  hard to love, and they both knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt, loving those men was what they were born to do. When they were still girls with their heads in the clouds, Mary dreamt aloud to Annie about marrying Stack, talking about how the second they were old enough he would whisk her away from Mississippi and all of the people who acted like she was something to be coveted, bought and tucked away. They would move up to Memphis, the big city where they could be anybody they wanted, and they could be together. Annie talked about marrying Elijah like it was a foregone conclusion- like it was the next natural step. Of course the pair would get married, what else would they do? They would move into a house and she would pick up her work and she and Elijah would be together because since they had met they had not been apart.

“Ms. Odette would be grinning so hard right now.” Mary said as Annie pulled on her undergarments, moving to her closet for her special occasion dress, the deep blue one. “You know she loved being right.” Annie laughed, glad that her friend’s mind was in accord with hers. “She always knew what was going on with us, no matter- Nuh-uh. I have something for you.” Mary said, interrupting the memory and steering Annie from the chest of drawers to the bed, her mischievous smile back even though her eyes were misty. Mary picked up the bundle that she had carried into the room and presented it to Annie. It was a dress, her wedding dress. A creamy white satin dress that looked delicate and almost other worldly as it was extended to her. It was floor length and short sleeved with the edges of the sleeves scalloped and accented with small flowers, each with a cluster of small pearls sewn into the center. The neckline of the dress was subtly curved, with more of the pearl flowers. It looked like it was made out of moonlight, it looked like it was something out of a dream Annie didn’t remember that she’d had. She pictured Elijah, exacting as he was, describing it to a dressmaker, watching with that firm set to his face to ensure that it was exactly like this, perfect like it was in front of her now. “Turn” Mary instructed, bending to have Annie step into the dress, which she did. The whisper soft material slid up her ankles and thighs as Mary pulled it up before she began buttoning the pearl buttons that aligned with her spine. Annie thought back to standing on her weary feet as Grace measured every inch of her in that thorough way the woman had, muttering as she turned Annie this way and that. Annie had no idea how those numbers turned into this, this dress with the drop waist that flowed over her and ended right at her feet, just missing sweeping the floor. Mary’s hands turned Annie to face the mirror again, stepping out of the reflection and letting Annie see herself. 

Annie’s breath caught as she saw herself. She looked as soft as  the dress that flowed down her body, the brown of her skin mixing with the cream of the satin perfectly. She had never had a dress that wasn’t cotton or worse coarse linsey-woolsey. Leave it to Elijah to give her something that she hadn’t even known that she had wanted. “How do I look?” Annie turned and asked her friend, who was watching her with tear softened eyes, her gaze taking her in. “You look perfect. Annie I swear I’ve never seen a prettier bride. Smoke’s going to fall out when he sees you, and if he doesn’t it’s because he’s too stubborn to take his eyes off of you. You are a dream.” Mary said. “Oh, wait- here.” she continued, reaching up and pulling off her earrings, simple pearl clusters, and taking Annie’s hand turning her palm upward and dropping the jewels into her hand. “They belong with this dress. It would be a crime for me not to give them to you, Annie.” Mary insisted before Annie could protest. Again, something they didn’t need to say passed between the friends. We both dreamt of this, and you are doing it. Please take a piece of me with you while you do.” Annie put the earrings into her ears, and opted to go barefoot into the storefront to go and be wed.

Everyone knew that the Smokestack Twins got what they wanted, in ways that shocked people. She had seen the looks on the faces of people as they encountered what the brothers made happen, the shock that turned to awe, the confusion as everyone struggled to grasp just how they pulled it off. Annie had never felt that way, she knew the men too well to be pulled into the mythology of them; but as she entered the space that she had just left less than an hour before, she suddenly understood what it felt like to be wowed by the twins. The storefront where she had spent every single day for most of her life was transformed even further. Along every surface, lining each shelf and all along the counter were long, white tapered candles. They flickering flames caught the twinkle of the stars above her, making them burst with light and catch on the dress that she wore, giving it an unearthly gleam. And cutting through the center of the room was a deep blue runner, lined with magnolia heavy branches, making the room heavy with the fragrant smell of the flower that made Anne’s heart swim with  thoughts  of Louisiana and of her parents and of love. At the end of the runner, Mary had joined Stack’s side as he stood looking like he had snapped his fingers and made all of this appear and that it took no effort at all. And beside him, just feet away from her, was Elijah.

He stood straight and still,wearing a dark suit that made him look refined and almost too handsome to be safe, his face intense on hers like it always was. Like it had been since they were young. Like if his gaze strayed from her she would disappear and he wouldn’t know what to do. Elijah’s eyes felt almost physical on her, heating her skin as he took her in from afar, pinning her to where she stood. He had made this dress with her in mind, had done God knows what to make it happen amongst rations and restrictions, and he looked indulgent in his success, his examining gaze taking on a satisfied glint. Annie forgot there was anyone else in the room as she began to move toward Elijah, seeing only him, surrounded by stars and the warmth of 1,000 candles, the early evening sun pushing softly through the flowy curtains on the windows. Mary caught her gaze, stopping Annie before she walked into Elijah’s arms and signaling to the counter beside her where a bouquet sat. The bundle of flowers was bursting with the creamy white of calla lilies and magnolias, the shock of brightness tempered with the deep blue of the interspersed blue bells and the soft sky color of tiny, star shaped blue star flowers. Annie picked up the bouquet, pressing it close to her as she stepped onto the runner that would lead her to Elijah, finally. 

The silence in the room felt like soft grass as Annie walked the runner, her bare feet padding over the soft material, her steps short and measured and her gaze on Elijah and his gaze on her. The moment stretched comfortably and unrushed as Annie made her way, and then she was at the other edge of the runner, meeting Mary, Stack and Elijah where they stood to receive her. Up close, close enough to reach out and put her hand on his chest and feel his heartbeat and the warmth of him, Annie felt his eyes on her even more intensely. The heaviness of Elijah’s deep brown gaze as he took her in, his head tilted down toward her, was tempered with something soft - like the sun breaking through storm clouds, like night giving way to dawn. Inevitable and natural and God given. “Annie.” Elijah breathed out his voice low, cutting through the soft silence around them. “Elijah.” She smiled up at him,meeting his gaze squarely. Stack cleared his throat dramatically, making Mary stifle a giggle before he continued, his voice and cadence taking on the tone of a preacher as he spoke. “We are gathered here today.” he began as Annie stepped off the deep blue of the runner and onto the warm hardwood to situate herself in front of Elijah.  “We all know why we here- and it’s been a long time coming. Like Jacob and Rachel, Annie and Elijah’s love story is one that shows the perseverance of a love at first sight. These two been in love since we was kids, and since the first time he saw Annie my brother knew that he wanted her to be his wife, because he told me all about it.All across the world, the one thing that he was sure of was that he was coming home to Annie, and that she was waiting for him.” Stack spoke, and Annie felt the length of time that they spent apart dissipate between them like it was nothing, like the things that had kept them apart were of no consequence. “And now here we are, after all this time. I can’t think of any two people who deserve to be husband and wife more than Annie and Elijah. Annie, my mean ass brother love you more than anything, he always has. You make him better, and you always been his home to come back to. And I can’t wait to see ya’ll two finally get to be together, like you always should have been.”

Annie heard less and less of what Stack was saying as she stepped closer to Elijah, taking his hand in hers. Stack was still speaking but it felt like it was just she and him. Like there was nothing keeping them apart anymore. Annie watched the words wash over Elijah, softening his gaze and his demeanor as he held onto her hand, and that was what kept her anchored to the moment and to him. She heard herself respond “yes” to the question that Stack asked, and she heard Elijah respond “yes” to the same. Then Mary, quick as a flash, pulled a short broom with its handle wrapped in satin, its straw bristles heavy with babie’s breath, and laid it on the floor in front of them. Annie locked eyes with Elijah and as natural as breathing they both  turned with their hands still clasped and jumped. “I now pronounce you man and wife. What God has joined together, let no man separate.” Stack said with flourish. Then Elijah wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her so close that there was no space between their bodies. So close that she could feel the thudding of his heart in his chest. And then he kissed her, a searing kiss with all of the fire that they had burned between them since Annie could remember. He breathed himself into her, making Annie tremble in his arms, but she could not be sure that it wasn’t him shaking. Around her, Mary was clapping and Stack was chuckling that indulgent laugh that he did, but all Annie could register was Elijah. All she could hear and feel was Elijah. All that mattered was Elijah. “Congratulations ya’ll.” Annie heard from somewhere far away, and she felt more than heard Stack and Mary make their leave. And then it was just her and her husband. 

Elijah’s hands were firm all around her, and Annie had to step out of his grasp to have the world start spinning again, to gain some kind of control of herself again. “You know how much I love you.” Elijah said, his voice matter of fact. “I do. You know I love you, Elijah. More than anything.” They were still so that Annie felt his breath coasting off of her cheek as he spoke. Annie didn’t even look at the ring that he slipped on her finger as they stood in the flickering light of candles and the setting sun, not wanting to take her eyes off of Elijah. For all of his plans and intentions, it was Annie who took the next steps. Annie dropped the bouquet in her hand and placed her hands on his shoulders and easing him down to the floor onto the deep midnight blue that he’d laid down just for her. There were no words to describe the heady power Annie felt standing above Elijah as he gazed up at her, his lids lowered with heated focus. It was like time folded in on itself, as it had the tendency to do, presenting itself again anew. He looked like the man that she knew and the boy that she had loved, open to her and burning for her making it impossible for Annie to do anything but love him with everything she had inside of her. 

Focused on Elijah and him alone, Annie lowered herself between his open legs reaching her hand down to unzip Elijah’s pants which were tenting with his desire for her. As Annie braced herself with Elijah nudging at her entrance, the heat of him making her quiver, she watched as he received her like she was coming down from heaven itself. Annie felt his hands slip underneath the satin of her dress and slid up her thighs and settled on her hips, holding her steady as she slid onto his manhood, thankful for the mooring as she felt herself coming apart around him. Annie gasped as she fully seated herself on Elijah, her body accommodating the size of him as he looked up at her his eyes blazing on her. Using the strength of her thighs, Annie rose back up and Elijah arched beneath her to meet her causing a chain reaction. Annie arched her back at the onslaught of sensation, pushing her chest toward Elijah whose gaze took on a hungry flint, then his steadying hands were off of her thighs and at her spine and the buttons of her dress. Annie felt his fingers trembling through the thin material, and then she felt him pull impatiently and the top few buttons pop, heard them scatter on the floor, then heard Elijah mutter “I’m sorry baby, I’ll fix it, I had to.” before his mouth was on her nipple open and hot with greed. Annie could barely form a thought as the wave of sensation washed over her, let alone assure him that she felt the same way. All she could do was feel. Feel Elijah moving inside her, measured and all for her like he always was. Feel his mouth on her needy  and insistent on pulling pleasure from her. Feeling feelings that she didn’t even know she was capable of feeling. Like lightning was striking inside of her, on that spot that Elijah wouldn’t let up on. “Goddamn, Annie.” Elijah ground out, his voice like smoke, simmering and dark. Then Annie was looking up at him and the stars on the ceiling, and Elijah’s hand was between them, rubbing on her and making her thighs tense and quiver around him. Elijah braced himself around her, his brows lowered with intention as he looked in her eyes. He had shed his suit jacket and pushed the sleeves of his white shirt up his forearms, the brown of his arms almost glowing in the candlelight. And as if he couldn’t overwhelm her anymore, Elijah dropped his mouth right by her ear, the same way that he did at the counter the night before. “You feel so good for me baby, and you look even better. I wish you could see how pretty you look like this. But that’s just for me, huh. This all just for me?” he asked, pistoning into her, his hips sinking into her softness, drawing out an indulgent moan from deep in Annie’s chest. Annie nodded, incapable of speaking while Elijah was doing what he was doing to her. She could barely think,could only feel as he pressed himself into her guided by his pleasure and hers. 

Then, like he could read her mind, Elijah sat up and took his hand- the one that wasn’t wrenching her pleasure from her- and sunk his long, strong fingers into the pliant flesh of her upper thigh and wrapped her leg around his waist. It was like that single reposition opened up something deep inside her, and like only he knew how to do, Elijah pursued the depth of her, making Annie jerk with the onslaught of pleasure. “Mo- mo pa ka.” Annie stuttered out, feeling like she was coming out of her body with what Elijah was doing to her, but with him on top of her there was nothing she could do but absolutely come apart. “You can, baby. This all for me, right?” he asked her. “Fuck Annie, you dripping baby. It’s everywhere. All for me.” Elijah spoke, his hips jerking once then once more. He was throbbing, she could feel it around her own shaking, the pulse of him making her finally lose all control and thought to the pleasure that he was giving her. Annie was suddenly a gasping, whimpering, trembling mess beneath Elijah, both of them still in their wedding clothes. But she didn’t feel weak for him, at his mercy like she did the night before. He was her husband, and her man, and he was a shaking mess of his own above her. Looking down on her, his eyes narrow as he fought to focus, his finger on the center of her pleasure still working more out of her Elijah looked as wide open for her as she was for him. Then he dropped his mouth to her chest, pulling her nipple into his mouth and groaning around it like it was the best thing he had ever tasted. The throbbing that Annie felt intensified before Elijah pushed himself impossibly deeper into her, seating himself so fully and completely inside her that Annie felt more of him than she did herself, like her body was his and not hers. And she felt him give more of himself to her, warm and pulsing and carnal. 

Even after it was over, Annie didn’t feel like it was over. The sun has fully sunk around them, cooling the air slightly  and making everything more alive. The multitude of orange flames flickered, combating the all around blue of the night and making everything about Elijah golden as he rolled over onto the lush blue they laid on. Elijah’s gaze was still all-consuming, still hot on her even when every other feature on his face was softened; his brows weren’t in that usual severe slant, his mouth was curved in a gentle smile that made the firelight glimmer off the gold sheen of his teeth as they showed through his full lips. His hand never left the curve of her hip, feeling weighty and permanent. Annie stretched her legs, groaning indulgently as her toes brushed the magnolia flowers, sending their bright smell throughout the air. Annie rolled over fully onto her back, arching her back and feeling her body the way that it was after Elijah, even though it didn’t feel like an after. She could still feel him, like everything in her was now in Elijah, and the same was true for everything that was in him was in her, but Annie had felt like that since the first time he had taken her hand to guide her to the inside of the road while they walked to her grandmother’s. Annie felt her husband’s eyes feasting on her body as various parts of it slid out of the now wrinkled silk of her wedding dress. One sleeve slid down into the crook of her elbow pulling that side of the neckline down her breast, and the hem of the dress had ridden up to right of the meeting crux of her thighs which were slightly parted. Elijah spoke suddenly, rising up on his elbow right beside her and saying “let me get you up.” Then Annie was up in the air, against Elijah’s chest as he carried her back toward her bedroom- his arms firm underneath her knees, his other arm cradling her back. The picture of a bride.

He laid her in the bed, then bought in several of the lit candles to illuminate the darkness of her bedroom. “I’ll be right back, baby. I’m coming right back to you.” he said softly before turning back into that efficient Elijah that he always was. When he came back, his arms were full before he knelt before the foot of the bed. “Here.” he said before gripping Annie’s ankles and pulling her to meet him. “Wanted to clean you up.” Elijah explained, the weighted heat of his shoulders by her knees and the feel of his breath on her thighs made Annie shift on the mattress and resparking something in her quicker than she imagined possible. Elijah reached up and pulled the soft whisper of her dress down her body, her undergarments long gone.Then the soft splashing of water and the warm rag was on her thigh; Elijah’s movements slow and deliberate and light on her as they moved up. After sudsing and rinsing her legs, with the back of his hand Elijah nudged Annie’s thighs further apart and he was between her legs. He washed her with firm swipes, and Annie rose up on her elbows as she felt Elijah move closer and closer to her. He placed a soft kiss on her still damp thigh, like he couldn’t help but kiss where he had touched, mirroring his attention with a kiss on her other thigh. Annie felt her body respond to Elijah, like she knew where he intended to go and then his mouth was on her expertly and full of intention. It was quick, how Elijah took Annie to the peak of her pleasure, making her buck with pleasure in what felt like moments. 

Elijah stood, his eyes never leaving Annie undressed, his fingers unbuttoning his shirt and revealing his bare chest then his bare back as he turned to blow out all of the candles except the one that sat on the nightstand dimming the room so that all Annie could truly see was her husband as he climbed into bed to meet her. Up close to him, Annie drank Elijah in in the darkness, and that’s when she noticed it. On the end of a simple brown braided cord that fell across his collarbone, a bit faded and a bit frayed, was a piece of the same quilt that they laid on the first night they laid together. Annie reached her hand up, her fingertips grazing the cloth warmed by Elijah’s skin. Wordlessly he placed his hand over her fingers, sandwiching Annie between their past and their future. “I wanted to take you wit’ me.” Elijah muttered, the candle illuminating the room already fading. “I couldn’t leave without a piece of you. Until I came home to you.” “I got something for you.” Annie said, already thinking of what she needed for a Mojo bag. She couldn’t make him one before- she had done a lot of learning in their time apart. Elijah must have felt her intent, putting his hand on that spot on her hip that was becoming familiar. “Tomorrow.” Elijah said, authority in his voice even as he faded into sleep. “Tomorrow.” Annie agreed. They had plenty of time, and no need to worry anymore.

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Rooted In You

Modern AU: Sinners

Smoke x Reader

🚫 Trigger Warning (miscarriage mentioned) 🚫

PART ONE // PART TWO

“You thought distance would bury the hurt. A year after fleeing to Atlanta, you’ve built a quiet life as a conjurer, tending to the problems of others while ignoring your own. But when your ex, Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore—the heartbreak you’ve been running from—shows up on your doorstep bringing up old ghosts. Some ties, it seems, don’t break so easily.”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Today drained you. Two money spells, one honey jar, one banishing, and one curse. You thought, because of rain cooling off the Atlanta heat, you'd earn a day of rest. But the ancestors had other plans.

Working the Root doesn't take days off.

After your shower, you'd changed into your purple silk nightgown, matching fuzzy slippers, and plush red robe. A red shower band held your curls from billowing over your face, and your fluffy black cat lay sound asleep on your lap.

Your mug, nearly filled to the brim with chamomile tea, sat next to two warm sugar cookies. Brownstone's ‘Grapevyne’ crooned softly from your record player.

Outside, the storm picked up. Rain poured down heavy, and the wind made the large trees covering your cottage home dance. Thunder rolled, and flashes of lightning split through dark grey skies. You moved to light your white vanilla-scented candles.

Mama didn't raise no fool. You knew better than to keep the lights on when God was working.

With an exasperated sigh, you lounged on the bay window pillows ready to finally relax. But something still nagged at you.

You'd cleaned and cleansed your space, put every candle, crystal, and bone in its rightful place. Your altar offerings were fresh. You'd recited your nightly prayers. Even “Da formerly known as Puurrince” was fed and napping.

So why did you get this instinctive gut feeling like something…or someone…was coming.

Dingdong.

You were silent at first, trying to peer out your window. The cascading rain rolling against your windows blurred your sight.

Dingdong.

Another ring pierced the silence of your home. Even your record player had stopped. You stood, shuffling towards the front door, the pitter patter of Puurrince's paws tapping behind you.

Peering through the peephole, you sighed. Your heart pounding as your hand rested on the doorknob.

“I know you're in there, so don't make me startle yo’ neighbors by bangin’ on this door. I'll embarrass the both of us,” said the deep voice called.

“Shit!”

You cracked the door slightly.

“What do you want?”

“Woman, open this door!”

You sighed, opening the door wider.

Of course it was him.

There stood Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore, fully drenched in rain on your porch.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The moment you opened the door, the storm eased. Winds softened. Rain trickled. The wind chimes under your garage barely stirred. A sign, no doubt…but whether it was good or bad, you couldn't tell.

“You just gon’ stare at me or you gon’ invite me in?”

His voice snapped you out of your trance. Anger slowly replaced apathy.

“Fuck no!” you snapped, standing firmly in the doorway.

Smoke smacked his teeth. “Look, I didn't come all this way to stand in the rain.”

He stood there, soaked, wearing a white textured overshirt, a fitted white tank, black high-waisted trousers, and black leather shoes. His silver chain stuck to his chest, rain rolling off his beautiful pecan skin. His deep brown eyes locked onto yours.

He stepped forward, trying to ease his way in, but you pushed him back.

“I don't know how the hell you found me, but you ain't steppin’ into my goddamn house. Take yo’ ass back to the Delta, and get the fuck off my porch.”

“Or wha-”

You flicked open your switchblade you'd grabbed before opening the door. The stare you gave him sent shivers down his spine. He gently backed off the two steps that led to your front door, hands raised, smart enough to know when to retreat.

“My apologies. Can I just talk to you for a second?”

“Speak, Elijah.”

“I didn't come here to badger you. Just need to talk.”

“We have nothin’ to discuss Elijah,” you said, leaning against the doorway.

“Please.”

You scoffed.

“I just need you to hear me out, and if you want me gone after, I'll go.”

He wasn’t leaving. You knew that. Come hell or high water, his stubbornness knew no bounds.

“Fine!” you said rolling your eyes, and flipping your blade shut. “Come in. Leave your shoes by the door.”

He trailed inside, locking the door behind him.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The storm had completely stopped. Only the faint sounds of trickling water pierced the silence outside. The clouds parted enough for streaks of ember orange and muted pink to spill across the sky.

Inside, your house sat still. Candles flickered, Puurrince sat perched in your spot on the bay window. Your cookies cooled, and your tea settled.

Smoke took off his shoes, at the entrance of your doorway, just like you asked of him. Waiting for permission to move in any closer.

You slipped into the laundry room, grabbed a clean towel from the load that had just finished drying, and returned back to the doorway.

“Clothes.Off.”

He raised a brow. “I know it's been a minute, but maybe we should take things slow before we get re-acquainted.”

“Nigga, please.” A small chuckle escaped. “I just don't want you drippin’ all over my clean floor. Now….” you shoved the towel at him. “Strip.”

A glimmer of mischief flashed in his eyes. He cleared his throat, hiding a grin. “Your house, your rules.”

A year ago, you wouldn't have made it past the entrance. You'd have jumped him, legs crossed around his waist, while his hands gripped your ass. Space would've been a foreign concept. You would've made love right there on your floor, and eventually the whole damn house.

But now? That heat was gone. Hollowed out.

You turned around, arms crossed, tapping your fingers as you waited. He cleared his throat to signal he had finished.

Clothes in hand, the towel wrapped around his waist, snug enough to press against the folds of his length. His skin glistened under the warm lights.

His smirk vanished. The tension between you both was thick.

“Thank you.” you murmured, clearing your throat.

You nodded towards the couch. He walked past you, his sweet cologne wafting by, as he took a seat. Purrince scampered towards him, jumping into his lap.

Traitor

“Hey Puurrince. How you been man? You been protectin’ your crazy ass mama? Huh?” Smoke cooed, rubbing Puurrince's tummy. Loud purrs filled the silence.

I should turn that nigga into a goat for that comment alone

You escaped towards the laundry room, giving your ex and soon to be ex-cat some privacy.

Answer the call

The spirits’ whispers clung to your ears as you loaded his wet clothes into the dryer. The last sliver of sun slipped through the curtains. Your phone buzzed. You answered before the first ring even finished.

“Hello”

“Hey.”

“So, I take it he's arrived?

“You knew he was coming, didn't you”

“Yeah, I was the one who sent him your way.”

You sucked your teeth. “Now why the hell would you do that?”

A sigh from your sister stretched across the line. “Foe’ you get mad at me, please hear me out.”

“I'm listening.”

“He's been looking for you since you left. Coming to my house every week asking about you. I ain’t told him shit.”

You pressed the phone closer to your ear.

“But lately…he’s been slippin’. Losin’ his temper. Showin’ up to parties drunk. Just…off. His own twin’s worried.”

“Well, he's grown. If he can’t keep his shit together, that’s on him. He’s no longer my problem. I’ve wiped my hands of him.”

“Girl, you can’t run from destiny.” Her voice dipped low, letting the silence thicken before continuing. “I heard you been goin’ to every conjurer, seer, and bruja alike, tryin’ to unbind from him. But you should know better. What you two have—you can’t unbind from.”

Your sister's words lingered heavier than a curse. She was right, and you knew it. No matter how far you ran, how many jars of your love for him you shoved in the freezer, the bond couldn’t be severed.

You exhaled deeply, “Bye.”

She sighed, “Good luck, sis.”

You hung up.

When you returned to the living room, Smoke was watching you, face unreadable, Puurrince sleeping in his lap.

You'd forgotten how gentle he could be. Under all that bravado, he was actually a sweet man. And somewhere inside, you missed that version of him.

But now wasn’t the time.

“So, let's get to it, Elijah. Tell me what you've done this time.”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Smoke leaned back, arms draped across the couch, but his smirk was gone, replaced with something heavier.

“Things ain't been right since you left. Can't focus. Can't sleep. Been making mistakes on jobs, causing close calls for me and Stack.”

“You been drinkin’?” you asked, bracing for the answer.

He sighed, jaw clenched. “...Yea. A lil’ bit.”

His confession made your chest tighten. A year ago, you wanted to curse his name to hell. Erase every touch, every kiss, every stroke etched in your memory.

But mostly, you just wanted the ache in your chest to stop. You wanted to breathe without the world crumbling around you. And you couldn’t do that in the Delta…not with memories lurking in every corner.

So you ran.

Packed up your life in one day, grabbed Puurrince, and caught the first plane to Atlanta. It took you months, but you built a life here. Clients. Community. A home.

But grief? Grief lingered. It lingered worse than any curse you could imagine.

Looking at him now, glassey-eyed, you knew it had done the same to him.

“Elijah-”

“I'm sorry,” he blurted out.

The room froze.

“Baby, I'm so sorry. I should've never blamed you fo-,” he swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “For her death. For our loss.”

Your heart sank. The grief you'd buried clawed its way back up.

You hadn’t thought about your precious girl in over a year. Not the two pink stripes that changed everything. Not the ballerina-pink walls Smoke painted when he learned her gender. Not the weekly trips to the baby aisle, piling up tiny outfits. Not the nights he rubbed cocoa butter on your belly, singing off-key, slipping her name into every song.

You hadn’t let yourself remember the night you woke in a cold sweat, sheets soaked in blood. How Smoke carried you into that sterile ER, shouting for help. How you woke to his frantic, tear-filled gaze, your hands fumbling over your belly...finding nothing. No kicks. No heartbeat. No sign of your precious girl.

You never let yourself think about what came after.

How the house went quiet. How joy bled from the walls, leaving a silence that never left. Smoke stopped sleeping beside you, choosing the couch over the bed you used to share. Both of you haunted, but trapped in different rooms.

You didn’t want to remember how you fought after he stumbled in, drunk and angry. How you screamed until your throats were raw. How his voice cracked when he said your magic didn’t save her. Couldn’t save her. How you told him to leave.

And how he did...leaving you alone.

You'd buried those memories deep.

And here he was, shovel in hand, ready to dig it all back up.

“Elijah,” your voice trembled. “I can't…I don't want to talk about that.”

He stood, carefully placing Puurrince to the side. His steps across the room were slow, measured. You backed into the bay window cushions, breath caught in your throat.

You felt the space shrinking as he stepped toward you, but you weren’t ready to surrender. Not yet. He could see it. He stopped just short, eyes locked on yours as the tears slipped down your cheek.

Your vision blurred as you looked up at him.

The silence hung between you, curling into every inch of space neither of you dared to fill.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

End?

Author's Note: This was originally supposed to be a Stack x Reader one shot. The premise was about Stack hunting down his jilted ex, bc she put a root on him, and him doing everything to get her to take it off. It was originally inspired by the song 'Witchy' x Childish Gambino ft. KAYTRANADA. Then, somewhere along the lines when I was writing the conflict, I was like…hold up...this seems better suited for Smoke 🤭 Guess it's a Smoke story now… Oh well 🤷🏾‍♀️ Stay tuned for Part Two.

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Y'all be eating down with the fics ngl 😭🤧

You’re Mine

Synopsis: Jasmine and Elias had been dating for about 5 years before he finally popped the question and asked her to marry him. But things unfortunately go downhill after a huge misunderstanding and the engagement is called off. Now Elias is doing anything he can to remind Jasmine that there’s no such thing as breaking up in his book. She’s his forever.

Characters: Jasmine ‘Jas’, Elias ‘Stack’ Moore, Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore, Annie Moore, Mary, Sammie and Pearline

Warnings: TOXIC ASF, cursing, SMUT, use of the ‘n’ word, Dom Stack, Sub OC, violence, blood, Stack being insane, Angst (Idk I think that’s all of it.)

Authors Note: Cute little part 2 to ‘You’re mine’ Don’t know if I’ll be continuing it since I’m still working on ‘Back where you belong’. This is just for shits and giggles and so I can flex my brain muscles a little bit. Teeheeee.

PART 2

MINORS DNI

-

“Yes daddy”

Was all it took for Stack to peel off Jasmine’s romper, leaving her sitting on his lap with just a pink thong on. She grabbed his face and brought their lips together, moaning at the taste of weed and liquor coming from him.

Their tongues danced as Jasmine started to slowly grind on his bulge. He let out a groan as he trailed kisses down her neck and towards her nipples that were begging for attention.

Jasmine was moaning softly, feeling his warm lips kiss, bite and suck on her skin. She was feeling herself get overwhelmed with need. Her body was hot against his, mindlessly grinding harder on him just to feel more.

“Please…Please Elias.” He brought his lips back to hers, kissing her so deeply that her body shivered.

“What happened baby? What you need, hm?” His deep voice vibrated against her throat as he sucked and kissed on her neck. Hands wondering over her body until they landed on her ass.

“You. I want you daddy, please.”

“Take what you want princess. Go ahead.” Jasmine desperately clawed at his jeans until she successfully pulled them down far enough where she could pull him out. He felt heavier and somewhat longer.

“Don’t get scared now. Show daddy how bad you want it.” Stack slaps Jasmine’s ass. She lets out a soft moan and slightly lifts herself up.

“Oh fuck” Stack groans as Jasmine starts to slowly sink down. She has her bottom lip caught in between her teeth as she tried to adjust to the thickness that was stretching her out.

She was wrapped so tightly around him, the pain and pleasure mixing all into one. She wasn’t even halfway down yet and her legs were already trembling.

“I- I c-can’t Elias. Pleaseeeee”

“I got you princess. Come here.” Her body dropped onto his chest as he gripped her thighs, slowly bringing her up, only to sink her back down.

“Fuck!” She moaned against his ear as her arms move up to wrap around his neck and her head press against his shoulder. His strokes got faster and deeper. Jasmine could feel everything he was giving her. Every inch deep enough to reach her stomach. Elias wasn’t being too rough but he wasn’t being gentle either. He was fucking her like he had something to prove but being careful enough not to take it too far.

‘Owner’ by Dexta Daps played in the background as Jasmine whimpered and moaned Stack’s name over and over again. She was gone. Completely high of pleasure.

“You hear how fucking wet you are?” Elias moaned. He looked down to see the cream covering his length, slowing down his strokes so that he could watch himself go in and out of her. “And you think I’m just gon walk away from this?” His grill shined against the moonlight as he harshly bit his lip.

He gripped Jasmine tighter, slamming her body up and down. “F…fuck Elias baby. Oh my goddd.” Her eyes crossed as she felt him fill him her up time and time again. The feeling so overwhelming that she could barely even breathe.

“I’ll die before I ever leave you alone.” An animalistic groan crawls out of Stack’s throat as he shifts his hips to angle himself deeper into her.

Jasmine’s body shook. She grabbed Elias’s face, looking at him in the eyes as she felt her orgasm building. “Daddy I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop. Please.”

Elias whimpered as he felt her tighten around him. “Shiiiittt. Give it to me. Cum for me mama.”

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her mouth dropped open. “Nuh uh. Look at me. I want you to see who’s doing this to you.” He let go of one her thighs and lightly slapped her face causing her eyes to focus back on him. “There we go.” He moaned as her body locked and vibrated on top of him.

“Daddyyyyy” She screamed as her orgasm crashed over her. Her back arched and her hands scratched his back. Elias continued to fuck her, hitting her spot over and over again.

“Wait Elias… Fuck.” A sob escapes her lips as she squirts all over him. Her juices pouring down his lap and onto the car seat. “Mhmm. Keep going. Good fucking girl.”

Jasmine’s body slumps back down onto his chest but Elias didn’t stop. His strong arms moving her up and down slowly.

“Babyyyy” She was so whiny and somehow still so needy. She wanted more. Leaning back, Jasmine began to move her hips causing Stack to groan loudly.

“Just like that baby. Let me feel you.” His hands slapped her ass as she bounced on him.

“I love this dick daddy.” She whimpered as she felt him twitch inside of her. Her eyes filled with tears as she sped up, that familiar feeling slowly creeping up again. “Its so gooooddddd”

“This your dick princess. All yours.” Stack roughly kissed Jasmine as she moaned in his mouth. “Open” He commanded. Opening her mouth wide, Stack spit in it then watched as she swallowed. “More please daddy.” He chuckled slightly and spit in her mouth again.

“So fucking nasty.”

Jasmine smirked as he whined in her ear. Her eyes were narrowed, forehead sticky with sweat and mouth open wide as she let out small gasps. She reached for his hand and stuck two of his fingers in her mouth, lightly sucking on them as she continued to bounce. “Mhmm, there she is.” Stack watches as Jasmine slowly looses her sanity. “Dick got you all dumb.”

He loved seeing her like this, vulnerable and desperate. It showed that she trusted him enough to let her mind go completely blank and just let go. He felt himself somehow get harder as he watched her use him. Stack was lost in a trance. Staring at her with complete adoration. He reached for her jaw and pulled her in, placing a soft kiss onto her lips before grabbing her thighs again and taking control.

“I’m gonna cuuummmm” Her legs tremble as her arousal drenches Stack again. And still, he wouldn’t stop. Tears spill from her eyes as she starts to cry from the overstimulation.

“One more mama. You can do it.” He moans as he feels himself slowly breaking. Holding her tight, he continued to thrust in and out. Jasmine was full blown sobbing at this point and it didn’t take long before she squirted again for the third time that night. Stack following right behind her, groaning loudly as he released inside of her. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, trying to soothe her by rubbing her back. Her body was still twitching as she gripped his shoulders, tears spilling onto his damp skin.

“Shhh, it’s okay mama. I got you. Take a deep breath with me.” He pulled her face back so he can see her clearly. Eyes puffy, lips pouty and cheeks stained red.

“Breathe with me.” Elias guided Jasmine through some breathing exercises to help her calm down. “There you go. Good girl.” He praised as her crying seemed to subside and her body visibly relaxed. He placed a soft kiss on her lips which she happily returned and then another one to her forehead. The two stayed just like that, Jasmine with her arms wrapped around him and her face buried into his neck. Stack had one arm resting around her waist while the other rubbed circles on her back. He was still inside of her, now completely soft, but he didn’t dare to move. He’d missed her so much that any second with her counted.

Jasmine pulled back after some time, Stack grabbed her body and slowly lifted her off of him. She winced slightly at the loss of him and he mumbled a quick “Sorry, baby” as he placed her back on the passenger seat. He leaned his arm to the backseat where a duffel bag sat, he opened it up and took out a towel, a fresh T-shirt, boxers and sweatpants.

“Why you walking around with all that?” Jasmine raised an eyebrow as she felt her heart drop for a quick second.

“Don’t do that. I was staying with Smoke and Annie for a couple days.” Stack carefully started cleaning Jasmine, going all the way down her legs. He quickly took care of himself, then put on a fresh pair of boxers and placed the towel in the now wet drivers seat.

Reaching for her thong, Stack helped her put them on before repeating the process with her romper. Once they were both dressed, the air in the car shifted. It felt heavy.

The weight of their emotions was suffocating them and Jasmine had to roll down her window for some fresh air.

“How come?”

Stack lifted his eyes up to look at her. “How come what?”

“How come you were staying with them?”

He sighs deeply before running his fingers through his beard. “Cause my sheets still smelled like you. Damn near the whole house did.” The look on Stack’s face showed nothing but vulnerability and a hint of melancholy. “Oh…”

She didn’t know what to say and right about now she felt like crying. Again.

“Jas-”

“I wanna go home.” She avoided his eyes as she twisted one of her bracelets around. The car was dead silent. Not even the music from outside could disrupt it. Stack didn’t say anything for a while, just carefully watched her twist and turn in the seat.

“Aight” He slowly nodded his head before turning the car on and driving off.

-

After dropping off Jasmine, Stack went home, quickly showered and then headed back to Sammies BBQ.

“Where’s Jas?” Pearline looked behind him, then towards his neck that sported small bruises and scratches.

“She wanted to go home.” Stack sat on a chair, grabbed a blunt and poured himself a double shot. Annie looked at Smoke with concern all over her face. He was tense. Jaw tight and knuckles damn near white.

Whatever tiny bit of calmness sat in Stack’s body, immediately went away the second that the man Jasmine was dancing on, came towards the girls.

“Hey, do y’all know where ya friend went?” Sammie sighed loudly and Smoke stood up, already knowing how this was going to go.

“What friend?” Stack asked with a smirk on his face. Annie, Mary and Pearline took a small step back away from the man. Smoke made sure to move to stand in front of them.

“Pretty brow skin girl with the tats?” Sammie didn’t even have to look down at Stack to know that the deep chuckle that circled the air was his. “Listen man, if you know what’s best for you I suggest you walk away right now and stop asking bout people you don’t need to be asking about.” He warned the man who looked at him confused. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to Stack whose smirk hadn’t left his lips yet.

“Yo bro, you know where she at? I can’t leave this party without her number. I mean, you seen her right?” The man smiled with all 32, completely oblivious to tension surrounding them. Smoke put out his blunt as he watched his brother slowly stand up, slightly towering over the idiot who doesn’t know how to read a room.

“Tried to warn you.” Sammie mumbled as he put his cup down. Ready for whatever was going to happen.

Stack slowly exhaled the smoke that was sitting in his mouth before slamming his hands on the man’s chest and bringing his body close to his by a pull of his shirt.

“What the f-”

“I spared your life once already tonight, and I don’t really think I’m in the mood to fucking do it again.” Without letting him get another word in, Stack punched him in his face, the crack of his nose loud enough to draw the attention of damn near half the party.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM??!!” The man thrashed around in pain, holding his face as the blood gushed out. The noise caused his friends to run towards him but froze the second they saw the twins. Smoke gave them a small two finger wave, showing the gun proudly sitting in his palm.

“I hear you ask about my girl ever again and I promise you those’ll be the last words you ever speak. You hear me, little boy?” Stack crouched down to be eye level with him.

“You doing all this over a bitch? Come on man, she was dancing on me!”

“Ah shit.” Smoke shook his head before leaning to Annie and telling her to grab the girls and leave. They quickly moved out as Stack laughed, almost maniacally. Grills shining and dancing around as if they were mocking the man.

“Nigga what the fuck did you just call her?” The mans eyes widened in fear and in that moment, one of his friends stepped up. A girl.

“Please. Please don’t kill him. He’s not from here, he doesn’t know shit. Please. He won’t go near Jas again, I swear.” Stack let out a hum. He scratched his beard with his free hand, his other slowly raising his gun to the mans temple.

“Stack please don’t. Please. He’s my friend.” The girl pleaded. Annie watched from a distance, Smoke could feel her practically begging him to intervene but he couldn’t. When Stack got like this, there was no stopping him. The man was up to the brim with so many emotions, it was hard to tell which one he was feeling the most.

The girls hands shook as she held them out in front of the man. Stack looked up at her and then behind her. His eyes landed back on the man who was watching him carefully. Too scared to move a finger.

“I’ll let you go… If you apologize.”

“Okay, okay I’m sorry.”

“Nah. Hold up.” Stack took out his phone and pressed record. “Continue.”

The man looked around in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“What you sorry for?”

“For dancing with your girl and calling her a bitch.” With a smile on his face, he tucked his phone back in his pocket. Smoke and Sammie giggled like schoolboys behind him.

“Looks like you live to see another day. Thank ya friend over here.” He nodded his head to the girl. Eyes never leaving the mans bruised up face.

Before getting up, Stack swung the butt of his gun and connected it to the mans temple. Another crack echoed loudly, mixing in with the mans scream.

“Oh by the way. You should probably drop ya friends. How you come here with three niggas and the only girl in the group stood up for you?” He shook his head before pointing at her. “Don’t do no shit like that again. You hear me? It’s crazier niggas out there. You could’ve got yourself killed.” She nodded with tears in her eyes.

“Aight. Time to end this party.” Sammie grabbed the microphone from the DJ booth and instructed everyone to go home. The boys walked to the front of the house where the ladies were waiting. Annie looked at Stack before turning her attention to Smoke. Her eyes saying everything.

“Stay with us tonight.” Smoke placed his hand on his little brother’s shoulder.

“Nah… Ima go home.” With a quick hug to the girls and one to Smoke, he walked towards his car and drove off.

-

“So what are you going to do?” Annie asked as she propped the phone up on her nightstand while she wrapped her hair up. Jasmine sighed loudly as she rolled around in her bed. It was around 3 in the morning and Annie, Mary and Pearline were all showered and debriefing the events of the night with Jasmine. Of course deciding not to tell her how Stack almost murdered someone.

That’ll be a story for another day.

“I don’t knooowwwww.”

Pearline laughed before rolling her eyes. “Girl, now you know you love that man. You know you can’t get rid of him. You might as well find someway to make it work.”

“Mhmmm” Mary nodded her head in agreement. “I think you guys need to just talk it out. Put it all on the table.”

“You know you’re being stubborn now. Just rip the bandage off. Say what ya’ll gotta say and find a way to figure it out.” Annie added. “Please. Cause I’m sick of him staying here.” Smoke mumbled in the back and Annie playfully hit his shoulder.

Jasmine giggled. “I know bu-” The sound of her front door opening stopped her mid sentence. She watches as Poncho runs down the stairs, listening for any indication of an intruder. But there was none. Meaning Stack was the one in her home.

“I’ll call y’all back.” She hangs up the phone and just sits and waits, knowing that he’ll come to her. Her stomach was doing flips. She didn’t know why she was so anxious, it’s not like she hasn’t known this man for five years. Her eyes drift towards the door as he walks into her room, Poncho following close behind him. He had on a black hoodie, the hood up and slightly covering his face. Grey sweatpants. Durag on his head. Chains poking through the slight opening near his neck. Grills still in his mouth.

He looked good.

Way too fucking good.

Stack slowly walked to her bed. He sat towards the end, grabbing her feet and placing them on his lap as he started massaging them. The anklet that he bought her sitting pretty on her ankle.

“I just came to talk… Can I do that, baby? Can I talk to you?” His voice deep and gentle carried a sadness to it that Jasmine wasn’t expecting.

“Yeah” She whispered softly.

Stack looked at her straight in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so fucking sorry Jasmine.” He gripped her foot, bringing it up to his lips where he placed a soft kiss on top of it. “I’m an idiot and I fucked up.”

Another kiss.

“Smoke was right, he told me I was scared and that I was sabotaging everything before it could even start. At first I thought he was just saying shit but he was right.”

Another kiss.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I couldn’t believe that you chose me to spend the rest of your life with. I don’t know what good I did in my current or previous life to ever deserve someone like you.”

He kissed the bottom of her foot. Right on her arch.

“Jasmine I’m weak when it comes to you…” He sighs loudly. Eyes looking at the picture frames she still had up of the both of them. “That’s why when you were pulling away from me I- I lost my fucking mind.”

“I should’ve been more patient. Waited to hear you out but I panicked and I’m sorry.” Stack shook his head as if to rid the feelings pouring out of him. “I didn’t fuck her. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

Jasmine took a deep breath, tears slowly gathering in her eyes as she watched him unravel. “I can’t imagine my life without you Jasmine. I don’t think I could ever walk away from you. You’re it for me. Even if you decide this is end for us. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to get you back.”

His eyes locked with hers again. “You’re the love of my life. There’s no one else for me after you. There is no after you.”

Jasmine was speechless, the lump in her throat making it hard for her to breathe. Stack placed another kiss to her foot so gently, that she almost didn’t feel it.

“You don’t have to for-”

“I thought I was pregnant.” Jasmine blurted out before she could even think. Elias froze.

“I thought that I was pregnant which is why I was distant. I was… I was scared.” She felt her cheeks dampen, quickly wiping them before continuing. “I didn’t know if you wanted kids so early or if you even wanted kids at all and I just panicked. I hadn’t taken a test or anything because I didn’t know what I was going to do or say to you if it turned out that I was. I was terrified that you weren’t going to be ready and decide that you didn’t want to be with me anymore and I just, I don’t know, I kept avoiding you and I’m sorry, I should’ve said something. I swear I was-”

“Woah, hold up baby, calm down.” Stack moved closer to Jasmine and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her onto his lap like she belonged there. Which honestly, she did.

He kissed away her tears before holding her face in his hands. “You thought you were pregnant?”

“Yeah… But turns out I wasn’t. I was just having a reaction to the new birth control I switched to.” She laughed humorlessly.

“Jas, what made you think I wouldn’t want to have kids with you, baby?”

“You just… I don’t know, you kept saying how good things were going with Smoke and I just saw how happy you were to be doing business with your brother and I figured if we were to have kids that you’d have to put an end to that lifestyle and I just didn’t want to ruin that for you. I didn’t want you to end up resenting me because you have to put that part of you on pause to take care of our kid so I just…”

“Jasmine, do you understand that I would do anything for you? I asked you to spend the rest of your life with me, that includes us having kids. I don’t care when and where it happens, I just know that I want them with you. If I have to bury that lifestyle to care for our family, I’d do in a heartbeat. Shit, Smoke would probably make the decision for me before I even get the chance to.”

A giggle slips past Jasmine’s lips as she looked at the man that she was completely and utterly in love with. “You’d do that?”

“Without hesitation, princess. Have I not shown you that?”

“You have I just… I got scared.”

“I’ll do more. I’ll be better. I promise.” The kiss they shared was intense. It being so deep and passionate that they felt it all the way down to their toes.

The two had a connection that couldn’t be explained and truth be told, Jasmine knew she was never going to really leave him. He was her soulmate.

“Do you really want a baby?” Jasmine asked him in an almost shy manner. Her voice soft but high.

“Of course.” Stack nodded. He leaned in again, placing kisses on her neck and down to her collarbone. “I’ll give you a baby right now.”

Jasmine laughed and shook her head. “Elias noooo, not till after the wedding.” Stack smiled. An actual smile. White pearly teeth showing, grills still dancing.

“Yeah? Still wanna marry me?”

“Of course I do.”

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