eternalglitter

[eternalglitter]

When Words Fail | Erik “Killmonger” Stevens

Erik does not speak in riddles. Doesn’t like too much complexity, but he will show you exactly what happens when your words fail.

_________________________________

Tonight was supposed to be perfect. You and Erik were hosting a barbecue. Everyone was healthy, happy, and freed their schedules just for a chance to be surrounded by the people they loved the most.

Erik’s best friends and their wives and a few of your closest friends and their spouses. This was supposed to be fun. But here you and Erik were on the opposite side of each other not addressing one another.

You two were indifferent since the morning. A small disagreement has now boiled over into the evening. Usually, you’d have time to talk to each other, fuck it out, and be cool again by the next morning. This was different.

Erik had to be up early to barbecue and you had last minute errands to do for your guests’ drink menu. That left no time to address the problem and it was clear by noon that neither of you cared to fix the issue.

The original agreement was to wear cohesive outfits, but Erik decided to dress himself in a plain white shirt with shorts, ignoring your request to match.

Two could play that game.

You’d match him alright. So here you were in a backless white romper with your hair down instead. He didn’t say a word but his stare held weight when you appeared downstairs for the first time.

You were watching something mindless on your phone as you prepared the drinking glasses from the bar. You could smell the salivating scent from the grill airing through the house and sighed. He’d always bring you a piece from the first batch to “taste” it, but you knew that it was just one of his favorite gestures to do.

You hated being into it, but you would not be the one to cave first. He was the one who was short with you. The least he could do is apologize and send a rib inside.

Erik’s eyes burned your skin when you walked past him in your backyard, stepping on your tippy toes to reach for something near the window. He kissed his lips silently but didn’t say anything.

When you gave up and went back inside you weren’t expecting him to put the speaker down for you.

Silently, of course. Stubborn as always.

Your curls could be tighter and you wanted your makeup to last, already knowing that this night would end up with you being drunk under your own roof.

You waited for your curlers to warm as you refreshed your makeup. Pressing powder under your eyes, adding white into your waterline, something that drove that man downstairs crazy.

You lined your lips with your favorite brown lip liner and paired it perfectly with a baby pink gloss. The combo that fueled your confidence. It was also the reason that you were on birth control.

You curled your hair quietly, thinking about how long you two planned this event and sighed.

Erik’s footsteps were louder to your ears than usual. Almost like he was announcing himself before entering your shared bedroom. He found you in the bathroom and just starred. He walked past you, grabbed something from his side of the vanity, but at the last second, almost like he was considering not to, he slapped your ass and walked away.

“Change.”

You jolted forward, bracing yourself on the sink and shook your head. Visually taken back. Change? Right before people started to show up? You considered both sides of the night and muffled a frustrated scream.

Your titties did try to peak through the fabric and the stinging of your ass served as a subtle reminder.

You decided on white shorts with a simple white top. Still you, still matching Erik, and genuinely more comfortable. You hated when he was right.

When you reentered the kitchen you noticed the rib steaming from its place on the counter. An ode from Erik that he was still yours. Still there even when he was upset.

He didn’t look up, but you knew he was waiting for you to crack first.

As guests begin to arrive, you and Erik’s feud was put aside. You hugged all your friends, complimenting their outfits. It was so nice to see everyone and even better to be with each other rather than being at some longue with others.

One of your besties, Lara, softly glanced in Erik’s direction. She turned back to you. “After all these years he’s still obsessed with you.” She laughed, hitting you softly.

A few others laughed too. You looked over your shoulder to see what they were looking at. Your man was holding a conversation with someone’s husband, but his eyes were closed on you.

You shook your head. “Girl enough about me. How’s the new job treating you?”

The small talk continued and the drinks were poured. Everyone groaned over Erik’s food which he greedily accepted.

He sat next to you on your outdoor furniture once everyone started to mingle in one area.

“Man what you put on these ribs?” Rick, Janet’s husband, asked while practically licking his fingers.

“A little bit of everything. Then wifey taste tests for me.” He answered his eyes now focused on your lips.

Your lids fluttered under his gaze so you decided to look elsewhere.

Conversations started to spiral over to different subjects but all you could feel was the tension radiating between you and Erik. You refilled your drink to give you something to do.

You hadn’t heard the exchange between Erik and Rick once you walked away.

“You good?” Rick asked Erik, watching his gaze not leave your body.

“Yeah.” Erik sucked his teeth. You were on your third drink which means you were very close to being too drunk. Erik knew this but you weren’t speaking to him.

“Just be careful. Last time I intervened Janet’s good time we ended up having RJ.” He admitted.

Erik shook his head. “That’s exactly what’s about to happen.” He grumbled half heartedly.

You spoke around Erik all night. Never addressing him directly. “Erik did our lawn so well,” and “Oh yeah my husband bought those for me,” and his favorite “I just show him which color I want and my man makes it happen.” In reference to the newly built deck.

Erik’s hand on your thigh looked normal but you knew it was strategically placed there as a warning.

“How long do you think this can last sweetheart?” He whispered lowly.

When you didn’t respond he just nodded, rubbing small circles on your thighs. He downed the rest of drink before moving. You could hear your own heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest.

“Baby can you get the other cord?” he asked, just for insurance if anyone was paying attention to you.

You nodded, practically running into the side door to enter your home. Erik took his time walking behind you. He enjoyed making you squirm.

You’d barely touched the cord on the counter when Erik’s shadow filled behind you. He didn’t speak right away. He just stood there, watching you fuss with nothing.

Finally, his voice cut through the quiet. “You think I don’t notice?”

Your eyes flicked up, wary. “Notice what?”

He moved closer, slow and deliberate, until your back brushed the counter. His jaw was tight, but his voice was steady.

“You braggin on me, fixing my plate, making it look real sweet for everybody else.” His hand found your hip, squeezing just enough to make you swallow. “But you won’t even look at me when you do it.”

You opened your mouth, then shut it, pressing your lips together.

“I don’t need an audience to know I’m your man.” He leaned down, nose skimming your cheek. “I need you to stop acting like I don’t exist.”

The words hit heavier than his grip. Because he was right — you’d done everything tonight except give him the one thing he wanted most: your voice, your softness, your attention.

“Erik—” you started, but the warning in his eyes stopped you cold.

“Don’t ‘Erik’ me now.” His thumb slid along the curve of your jaw, tilting your face to his. “You’ve been talking around me all day. That stops now.”

“Been watching you all night,” he muttered against your skin.

Before you could answer, his hand slid between your thighs, pushing your shorts aside like they were nothing. Two fingers stroked you slow at first, testing, before entering.

Your gasp was sharp, your hands scrambling for his shoulders.

“Say my name,” he demanded, curling his fingers until your body jolted.

“Erik,” you whimpered, finally giving him what he’d been starving for.

“That’s right.” His lips brushed your jaw, his pace quickening until the wet sounds of his fingers filled the room. “Don’t care if the whole damn neighborhood hear you right now. You don’t ignore me.”

Your moans spilled out in broken pieces, your body trembling against him as his thumb pressed against your clit. You broke fast, quicker than you were ready for, and you came undone on his hand, shuddering against his chest.

Erik didn’t let up until you were sagging against him. Only then did he pull his fingers from you, bringing them to his lips to taste before pressing a slow, possessive kiss against your mouth.

“You hear me now?” voice steady despite the storm he’d just pulled out of you.

You nodded weakly, still catching your breath, and he chuckled. All you heard was satisfied but not finished.

“Good,” he said, setting you gently back on your feet, smoothing your shorts like nothing happened. “Because when they leave..” he left it up to you to imagine.

“Go on and fix that pretty face,” he said softly, thumbing a smudge of gloss from your chin. “Don’t want our guests knowing you’re already out of it.”

Your chest was still heaving when he set you back on your feet. Your legs nearly buckled, and his smirk deepened when you grabbed the counter for balance.

“I’ll head out first,” he added, adjusting his shirt like nothing happened. “Give you a minute to pull yourself together.”

And just like that, he left — casual, unbothered, slipping back through the door with the smell of smoke and ribs following him. You caught a glimpse of him outside, laughing with Rick like he hadn’t just had you gasping on the kitchen counter.

When you finally reappeared, fresh gloss and powder disguising the wreckage on your face, his eyes found you immediately. He didn’t call attention to it, didn’t say a word, but the smile tugging at his lips told you he knew.

The rest of the evening was torture.

His hand on your thigh, his thumb stroking in circles that no one else noticed. The way he leaned close when you refilled your glass, his lips brushing your ear: “Careful, babygirl.”

The glance he gave you when someone complimented your deck again — a look that said, Tell them how you thank me.

Every laugh, every nod to your friends, every bite of food he ate — all of it was normal. But every time his eyes cut to you, you felt the heat of what happened in that kitchen. And the weight of what was coming after everyone left.

When the last pair of tail lights disappeared down the street, and the house fell quiet you were nearly shaking. You leaned against the door for a second, exhaling, trying to will your heartbeat back to normal.

But Erik was already behind you.

“Don’t get comfortable.” His voice was deep, steady, making your skin prickle. “You thought fixing your lip gloss and sitting pretty was gonna get you out of what’s coming?”

You turned, but his hand was already on your throat tight, it made you tilt your head back and force your eyes to his.

“All night I smiled for them,” he said, jaw hard, his thumb stroking the soft spot beneath your chin. “Fed them, laughed with them, played the part. Meanwhile, you…” He smirked, though his eyes were sharp. “You out here testing me.”

“Erik—”

Your voice cracked, and that was all it took for his expression to soften just enough. He leaned down, kissing you slow, swallowing your protest before it could form.

Then his hand dropped from your throat to your waist, and suddenly you were airborne, tossed over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

“You had no problem keeping quiet earlier,” he cut in, his hand landing sharp on your ass, making you yelp. “Keep that same energy now.”

By the time he dropped you onto the bed, your cheeks were hot and your eyes stung, though you couldn’t tell if it was from frustration or the fire building in your chest.

Erik stood over you, peeling off his shirt slow, deliberate. The sight stole what little defiance you had left.

“You think you teaching me something,” he said, climbing onto the bed, caging you in with his arms. His lips brushed your temple, deceptively tender. “But I promise you, baby… I’m doing teaching around here.”

And then his mouth was on you again while his hand pushed your shorts down with one smooth tug. He moved quick. No more foreplay, no more monologues. He’s been holding back all day and you needed to feel that.

He slid inside you with a groan, deep and unyielding, forcing your back to arch and your breath to catch in a sob.

“Yeah,” he taunted against your ear, his thrusts slow but punishing. “That’s mine. Every cry, every tear, every breath. Mine.”

Your vision blurred, your body breaking under the weight of him — his pace, his words, the way he never let your eyes slip from his. Tears slipped free, hot down your temples, and Erik kissed them away without losing rhythm.

“Go ahead, let it out,” he coddled, pinning your wrists above your head. “You don’t get to ignore me. You don’t get to pretend I’m not the center of your world. Not when I can make you come apart like this.”

Every thrust drove the truth deeper — into your body, into your bones — until the tension finally shattered and you sobbed his name, breaking against him completely.

Erik didn’t let up until he followed you over the edge, spilling into you with a groan that rattled your chest. He collapsed against you, heavy and warm, his breath ragged against your throat.

When the silence settled, his lips brushed your damp cheek again, softer this time.

“You should’ve known,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss against your mouth. “I keep promises.”

[eternalglitter]

This felt like a gut punch. Amazing. If you’re being cheated on or if you are the other woman, you deserve so much better.

the other woman (Stack x reader)

summary: the other woman lives in silence, in stillness, in waiting — and you do. God, you wait.

based off of the song "The Other Woman" covered by Lana but ofc the og is Nina Simone

warnings: angst, like very angsty bc i just wanted to feel something. cheating, mention of bruising from sex

wc: 478

au: so this is my first ever posted fic, be gentle if it is bad. also please let me know if i am missing any warnings

You told yourself you’d made peace with being a secret. You were fine with being the ghost that lurked in the shadows of his mind. It was a lie you told yourself until you really believed it. The other woman lives in silence, in stillness, in waiting — and you do. God, you wait.

It was easy to believe when he came over. Stack would make it feel like you were his world. Like nothing else existed outside of the swanky apartment he paid for specifically to house his misdeeds. That was until the sun would rise and he was as ephemeral as a Summer storm. You could never hold your claim on anything but the memory left behind. 

You also try to tell yourself the lie that you hate her — Mary. Her name burns in your throat like the whiskey Stack likes to drink. But how could you hate her when you’ve seen the way he talks about her when he thinks you’re not listening? How his eyes glaze with softness when he says her name in passing. How he stops calling her “my wife” and starts calling her “my girl” when he’s drunk enough to forget you're someone else.

You learn things about her you were never supposed to know. Her favorite kind of wine, the song she hums while she cleans, the scar on her thigh he once kissed after a bar incident a few years back. You gather these things like trinkets — little heartbreaks in your jewelry box, tucked between strands of pearls he bought you after missing your birthday.

You tell yourself you are not in love. That this is just something to fill the quiet. Something to do in the in-between. But that lie only holds weight until 3 a.m., when he rolls off of you and mutters her name in his sleep. You stare at the ceiling and pretend it doesn’t gut you. 

What do you get, really? The evenings after the sun has gone down, when even the city’s most ruthless start to tuck in. You get cold dinners, unreturned calls, and bruises that bloom like violets. He always says he doesn’t mean to grab so hard.

Mary gets his mornings. She gets his coffee orders and Sunday paper runs. She gets his tired feet in her lap and his laughter over breakfast. You get his apologies. You get his guilt.

Sometimes, he says he’ll leave her. Sometimes, he says you’re everything he’s ever wanted. That she doesn’t understand him the way you do. That he’s never felt more alive than when he’s with you. And for a second, you believe him.

But the next morning, he’s gone before the first light hits your skin.

You stop asking him to stay. You stop asking him anything at all.

And yet — when he knocks, you open the door.

Every single time.

[eternalglitter]

I need everyone to understand the difference between a fictional character and its actor. I genuinely do not keep up with celebrities, as they are human like you and I. BUT I will gladly consume their art. People do not exist to please your fantasies, judge their dating life, or be obsessed with them. Pls go outside sometimes!! 😁

[eternalglitter]

Elijah “Smoke” Moore 🫦

Either classy or casual. No in between.

an ongoing reference.

Elias “Stack” Moore 💋

I always imagine Stack to have more hair than Smoke idk.

•lmk if I’m crazy.

[eternalglitter]

♫ Have Ya Babies | Elijah “Smoke” Moore

Chapter One - Read Your Mind - Avant

Chapter Two - Motive by Ariana Grande

Chapter Three - Come Thru by Drake

Chapter Four - Lost Without U by Robin Thicke

Chapter Five -Love is only a feeling by Joey Bada$$

Chapter Six - Sabotage by Wale

- insp. have your babies by pip millett + mariah the scientist-

- modernau! smoke + stack, black! oc, everything you seen in sinners apart from any gore/racism will be in here. it’s a slow burn romance. can you guess which twin is my favorite?

[eternalglitter]

eternalglitter

Have Ya Babies | Elijah “Smoke” Moore

Elijah Versus Elias (personality + kinks)

Coming Down | Elias “Stack” Moore x You!

Coming Down | Part Two

Smoke/Stack Twins Photo Refs 🫦

When Words Fail | Erik Stevens

erikftglitter’s masterlist (also me)

[eternalglitter]

& do 🤭

♫ Have Ya Babies | Smoke Moore

(6).. You say you ready, you ain't ready enough

Cause when it fall right in your lap, you be ready to get up..

Elijah didn’t leave that night. Aspen fell asleep and he was torn between leaving while she slept, or waiting for her to wake up. He decided against the latter.

They shared another kiss. Fast, passionate. She was the one who kissed him. He accepted it with generosity, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it fully. Not tonight. Not when she was her most vulnerable.

He’d pulled away from the kiss, as much as he didn’t want to. “Aspen.” He redirected as softly as he could manage. He wasn’t too soft with words but he was weakened by the glimmer in her eyes.

She sighed. This is what she expected. She wanted him. Wanted something, but had the restraint of a soldier. Was she not worth slipping for?

“You ever gonna let go?” She whispered from her spot in his lap.

“Aspen.” He said a little more firmly. She sighed. She couldn’t tell if he wanted to or not. It was one thing to have restraint and to not want to. She was starting to think he didn’t want to.

Frustrated at the lack of attention and the heightened sensitivity of this particular day, she spoke from the intensity of her emotions. Grief and need. And hated how he looked like everything she needed.

“Just go.” She teared up, already walking towards her bedroom door, Miles in hand.

He watched her walk away and his heart sank. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but she wasn’t thinking straight. He wasn’t doing it that way.

He thought quietly for a few moments and against his instinct, he stayed in place. He sat back on the couch and sucked hits teeth.

You can push me away, but I’m not leaving.

_________________________________

Aspen woke up with a throbbing migraine. She groaned into the blankets. Then she was reminded of yesterday. Remembered how kind Elijah had been to her - how considerate he had been.

But she remembered how silly she felt to practically throw herself at him and for him to shut it down. Like he did every time when they shared a nice moment.

She sank further into the bed. She was feeling embarrassed? She groaned once again as she patted the bed to look for her cellphone.

Right. She kicked Smoke out and abandoned everything, him included, in the living room.

She threw the blankets away from her body and prepared for the mess she’d made. She could almost hear her own heartbeat as she braced herself.

The takeout trays were discarded. The table had been cleaned, drinks were gone, and her space was cleaned like he’d never been there.

Her eyes watered but she refused to let the tears fall. What she’d been looking for sat neatly near the remote on the edge of the table.

A few missed calls. Emails. Everything looked fine until she noticed the one missed call from Smoke.

She didn’t call back.

_________________________________

Smoke sighed at the unskippable conversation between two men from legal. This would be fine if the conversation had been about what he paid them for, but this was small talk.

A conversation that he found himself stuck in as he rode the elevator. After awhile he thought that they’d noticed that his only contribution was a single head nod, but they didn’t care.

They asked if he was upgrading to a new truck since a new model was coming out, but he was so stuck in his own head that he didn’t hear which model they were even referring to. He also didn’t care.

Stack was waiting when he reached his floor. He laughed once he seen who he’d been stuck on the elevator with. They talked a lot, even too much for Elias.

“Gentlemen you’re suffocating my brother.” Stack said flatly as Smoke adjusted his tie, already over the day.

They scattered immediately and sent an apologetic smile. Everyone knew that they had one warning around here and then that was it. Booted and replaced and another professional eager to come in and assume their place.

“How are we looking for headlining next year?” Smoke asked as they walked to the meeting room.

Stack sighed dramatically. Then he grinned. “How we looking? We fucking got it.” He laughed. “Come on now I’m the best to ever do this shit.”

Smoke nodded. That was a given. “At least we got some good news today.” He mumbled. Elias raised his eyebrows, putting his hand out to stop his brother from walking further.

“You good?” Elijah looked at him, thought about how Aspen is actively ignoring him, but didn’t share that. He couldn’t. That wasn’t his thing.

“Elijah,” mama smiled softly as she fixed his shirt. “My big boy. ‘M so proud of you.”

This was the big night, or at least the biggest night of ten year old Elijah’s life. The church concert where he was the lead pianist.

He’d been in the play like Elias, but delivered the lines so flatly that they admitted he was better off standing there with the triangle.

But boy could he play those keys. It had been discovered on accident. They had been dropped off at Sunday school, but weren’t picked up when all the other kids were.

Elias was asleep in one of the isles, mouth open and snoring. Elijah found himself sitting behind the piano. He’d focus on it all the time.

He didn’t know what he was doing but he let his body lead him. He thought of a familiar hymn and before he knew it, he was playing it. It’d come to him naturally.

“Elijah that is amazing!” His Sunday school teacher beamed. He froze. “No I didn’t mean to startle you.” But he was already sliding the stool back in place and off the stage.

“‘M sorry ma’am.” He bowed his head.

“Don’t be. I think I have a spot for you in the play if you can do that again. What do you think?” She kneeled down to him.

He nodded. He reached over and hugged her before his brain could tell him to stop. Puzzled but grateful, she wrapped her arms around his body too.

“Never stop excelling Eli.” She whispered to him.

He jumped at the sound of daddy’s rustic truck. Elias was up from his sleep. Mrs. Smith, their lead Sunday school teacher, swallowed.

That was not normal.

“Thank you Patty.” Daddy took his hat off in respect and nodded. “My boys give you any lip?” He asked.

She didn’t ignore their eyes on her. “Of course not. May be the most behaved kids here.”

Daddy grunted, disapprovingly so. They knew what would follow as they walked back to his truck.

“Eli you get in. ‘Lias you walk. Look like you need to wake up anyhow.”

He never noticed that Elijah hurried and switched shoes, their only distinction, and took Elias’ place.

Smoke nodded. “Always.” He dabbed his brother up but Elias could feel the disconnect. Recognized it clearly as he did himself.

“And this has nothing to do with Miss Miami?” He lightly taunted. His eyes caught how Elijah’s flicked down at that.

“Man I just need a damn coffee. Stack move.” He pushed him slightly.

Stack chuckled. “Yeah that’s was I was bracing you for,” Smoke stopped.

“Someone broke the machine.” Stack chuckled as his brother’s fists tightened.

“Look Mike Tyson, calm down. I sent someone to get you one. Any minute now.” He said still clearly entertained.

Smoke in a meeting without coffee was not a happy sight. Everyone knew that.

“Yo ass real annoying.” Smoke grumbled before taking a seat at the empty table.

“Yeah and you was nicer when you were with that girl.” Stack fired back.

“You need a hobb—“

“Good evening gentlemen. Pardon my interruption.”

The bickering halted. Back to business.

_________________________________

Meetings went as scheduled. Informative, boring, but very necessary.

“Thank you.” The boys stood up and shook the hands of their new partners. New advertisement/endorsement deal unlocked.

The room fell empty before they talked amongst each other.

“You have Jerry in legal double check those numbers.” Smoke suggested to Stack.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Stack now loosened his tie. “This endorsement would align with every visual needed for Grace’s album. It pays for itself.” Stack concluded.

That was his lane. He could hear information one time and think about ten clear directions to go. His brain processed information very quickly.

Smoke nodded.

The sounds of a cellphone ringing sent both men searching for their phones. Elijah hoped it had been his but of course it wasn’t.

Stack looked at his screen and silenced it. Elijah recognized the look on his face.

“You hiding from somebody?” He inquired. Elias looked at him, he wasn’t as good holding his emotions in, never had been.

“Uh I guess.” He sighed. Elijah closed the notebook they had worked in to throw around numbers and hypotheticals. A silent ode for him to continue.

“Tori’s pregnant.” Stack said quietly. Elijah breathed out loudly.

“‘Lias you know better.” He reprimanded. This was the last thing that he expected. They both knew they weren’t doing that - at all. If it was going to happen then it’d happen right.

“I know,” his brother sighed. “Baby’s not going to make it.” He admitted.

“How you figure?” His attention fully on his Elias.

“We been reckless. Doing all types of stupid shit,” Elias followed up. “Fetus don’t even look right,”

Elijah sat quietly, unsure of what he needed to say. He usually made these things better, but even he was speechless this time.

He thought for a moment and knew what needed to be done. He pulled him into a hug and Elias stayed there for a minute. Just like they’d done many moons ago.

_________________________________

Adrienne waited patiently for Aspen to come out from her place in her Mercedes.

“Aspeee!” She beamed once her best friend entered the car. They hugged before she was reprimanded.

“Bitch now when were you going to say that you were in Miami!!” She eyed waiting for her to spill.

“God forbid I wanted some sunshine.” Aspen laughed as they headed to brunch.

“Girl you not going to Miami without me, unless you with a man.” Adrienne clocked.

“That is not true!” Aspen thought about it. Maybe she had a point, but that was her first time being there… and it was with a man. Her man? Something like that.

“Are you back with DJ? Be honest.” Adrienne glanced over once they reached a red light.

“No!” Aspen was disgusted. The professional basketball player hadn’t even texted her recently. Maybe they both finally moved on.

“Mhmmm.” Adrienne stretched out disapprovingly.

Aspen waited until they were seated and their mimosas arrived before ripping the bandage off.

“Okay, you’ve waited long enough. Here’s your mystery guy.” She bit her lip as she slid her phone across the table.

Adrienne picked up the phone, eyes narrowing at the side profile photo Aspen had captured.

“For a second, I thought… wait, that looks like Stack Moore.” She laughed nervously, shaking her head. “But that’s crazy, Stack isn’t your type.”

She looked again, slower this time, her eyes tracing the sharp jawline and familiar features. A frown crept in.

“Either this drink is already hitting, or that’s Smoke Moore.”

Aspen laughed at her, the quiet thrill bubbling in her chest. “Yeah.”

Adrienne blinked, momentarily speechless. “Aspen… you’re dating Smoke Moore.”

“Yeah.” Aspen sighed, remembering that they weren’t on the best terms right now.

“Please spill,” Adrienne begged. “Is it heavy? It looks like it might be heavy.” She stated bluntly.

“Adrienne!!” Aspen laughed, mostly embarrassed at her question, but also realized that she didn’t know. It felt heavy though. From her memory of the indent she felt from her place in his lap.

“We haven’t had sex.” Aspen told her truthfully. Adrienne lowered her eyes.

“You trolling me?” She pointed.

“What? Girl no. We haven’t did it.” She put her hands up defensively.

“Oh Aspen…. He likes you.” She lifted her glass and drowned it. “I always knew you were going to get married first.”

Aspen laughed, “You are a mess,” she filled her in with a few more moments, holding onto the ones she deemed more intimate.

She reduced it to just casual but Adrienne knew her too well. “I’m happy as long as you’re happy. You needed this.”

“What?”

“Aspen, DJ was a loser who just happened to be a millionaire. You needed this, a man. A real one girl.”

“I’m ignoring him.”

“You’re what??” Adrienne choked on her drink. “Are you seriously sabotaging yourself?”

“I’m just figuring something out that’s all,”

“So sabotaging.”

“No figuring something out.” She defended. “Now let’s eat. My stomach’s growling.”

Now playing: Sabotage by Wale

_________________________________

“Well since you’re one step away from being single again let’s go to The Spotx.”

“Adrienne.”

“Don’t Adrienne me miss sabotage.”

The room looked like a boutique exploded — dresses draped over chairs, shoes lined up in messy rows. Aspen stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the sides of her black mini-dress. Her curls fell over her shoulders, makeup freshly done.

“You sure about this?” Aspen asked, glancing at Adrienne through the mirror.

Adrienne spun once in her sequined dress, smirking. “One hundred percent. We’ve both worked too damn much to sit at home again. Tonight we’re celebrating… nothing. And that’s the point.”

Aspen laughed softly, shaking her head. “You always make that sound so easy.”

“Because it is.” Adrienne plopped onto the bed, crossing her legs. “Come on, you’ve been hiding out like you’re in witness protection. I finally got you out, don’t ruin the vibe.”

Aspen gave her a look but didn’t argue. Adrienne already had her phone out, snapping a quick selfie of the two of them.

“Adrienne—”

“Relax, we look good.” Adrienne typed quickly, adding a caption with drinking glass emojis before tagging Aspen’s handle.

She hadn’t realized that Adrienne had tagged her, so it was now sitting right on her page too.

The line snaked down the block, lights spilling from the open doors while the bass thumped hard enough to rattle the pavement. Cars crawled past, headlights washing over groups waiting to get inside.

Adrienne looped her arm through Aspen’s. “We look too good to stand in line. Watch.”

Aspen raised a brow but followed, heels clicking against the sidewalk. Adrienne waved at the bouncer like she’d known him for years, exchanging a quick hug before pulling Aspen through the velvet rope.

Aspen laughed. “Of course you know him.”

“Baby, I know everyone,” Adrienne said with a wink.

The place was packed, lights strobing across the dancefloor in bursts of neon. Aspen sipped from her drink, standing at the edge while Adrienne was already in the middle, hair flying as she moved to the beat.

Adrienne grabbed her wrist, tugging her forward. “No hiding. I didn’t drag you out for you to babysit a vodka soda.”

“I’m not hiding,” Aspen said, though she let herself be pulled closer.

“Prove it.” Adrienne spun, laughing as she caught Aspen’s shoulders and pulled her into the rhythm. The bass was relentless, impossible to resist. Aspen finally let go, swaying with the crowd, the corners of her lips tugging upward.

“There she is!” Adrienne shouted over the music. “That’s the Aspen I remember.”

Aspen laughed, flushed from heat and adrenaline. Adrienne held her phone up, recording a ten-second clip of them dancing. She posted it immediately, tagging Aspen in bold letters so it appeared on both their pages.

Aspen didn’t stop her this time. The buzz of the music, the lights, the moment — it felt good.

For now.

_________________________________

Smoke’s penthouse was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy. He’d smoked an hour ago and yet his high felt gone.

Only a single lamp lit the living room, throwing shadows across the leather couch and glass table. The TV was on, muted, cycling through highlights from a game he hadn’t been really paying attention to.

Stack was with Tori per Smoke’s suggestion and he had no plans - per being ignored by Aspen. Who was.. Who didn’t have an official title.

Smoke sat slouched back, one arm draped over the couch, scrolling his phone without much focus. He didn’t beg. He wasn’t going to blow her phone up, but he just wanted to hear her voice. He didn’t care if she yelled or cried, but he’d grown to hate this silence between them.

He wasn’t expecting to see her.

The story popped up automatically — Adrienne’s flashing screen, music blaring in the background, neon lights streaking across the frame. At first, he almost skipped it. But then he saw the tag. Aspen’s name glowing on the screen.

His thumb froze.

She filled the camera for a moment, laughing, head tilted back, curls bouncing under the lights. That dress — short as hell, hugged every piece of her. Smoke sat up straight, the phone suddenly too close to his face.

His jaw flexed as he watched Adrienne pan the camera again. Aspen spinning once, the hem of her mini dress not lifting with the movement, thankfully.

Heat slammed through him, sharp and unwelcome.

Smoke exhaled through his nose, slow, deliberate. But his hand was already gripping the phone tighter. His chest tightened, tremor moving faster than it had all night.

For a moment he just stared at the screen, that slow burn of jealousy twisting deep. Why the fuck was the dress so short? Had he not made anything clear?

The muscles in his forearm flexed as he dropped the phone on the table with a heavy thud. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, running a hand over his face like it might cool him down.

It didn’t.

Smoke pushed up to his feet, moving with sharp precision. Shoes. Keys. Wallet. He didn’t even think about it — didn’t have to. The decision had already been made. Even if he knew deep down it was a big one.

She wanted to play games? Fine.

Let’s play.

_________________________________

@thefutureemmywinner @coldeforprez

@rolemodelshit @tnychellee @gunznroses4life

@bananajoeclone

[eternalglitter]

♫ Have Ya Babies | Smoke Moore

(6).. You say you ready, you ain't ready enough

Cause when it fall right in your lap, you be ready to get up..

Elijah didn’t leave that night. Aspen fell asleep and he was torn between leaving while she slept, or waiting for her to wake up. He decided against the latter.

They shared another kiss. Fast, passionate. She was the one who kissed him. He accepted it with generosity, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it fully. Not tonight. Not when she was her most vulnerable.

He’d pulled away from the kiss, as much as he didn’t want to. “Aspen.” He redirected as softly as he could manage. He wasn’t too soft with words but he was weakened by the glimmer in her eyes.

She sighed. This is what she expected. She wanted him. Wanted something, but had the restraint of a soldier. Was she not worth slipping for?

“You ever gonna let go?” She whispered from her spot in his lap.

“Aspen.” He said a little more firmly. She sighed. She couldn’t tell if he wanted to or not. It was one thing to have restraint and to not want to. She was starting to think he didn’t want to.

Frustrated at the lack of attention and the heightened sensitivity of this particular day, she spoke from the intensity of her emotions. Grief and need. And hated how he looked like everything she needed.

“Just go.” She teared up, already walking towards her bedroom door, Miles in hand.

He watched her walk away and his heart sank. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but she wasn’t thinking straight. He wasn’t doing it that way.

He thought quietly for a few moments and against his instinct, he stayed in place. He sat back on the couch and sucked hits teeth.

You can push me away, but I’m not leaving.

_________________________________

Aspen woke up with a throbbing migraine. She groaned into the blankets. Then she was reminded of yesterday. Remembered how kind Elijah had been to her - how considerate he had been.

But she remembered how silly she felt to practically throw herself at him and for him to shut it down. Like he did every time when they shared a nice moment.

She sank further into the bed. She was feeling embarrassed? She groaned once again as she patted the bed to look for her cellphone.

Right. She kicked Smoke out and abandoned everything, him included, in the living room.

She threw the blankets away from her body and prepared for the mess she’d made. She could almost hear her own heartbeat as she braced herself.

The takeout trays were discarded. The table had been cleaned, drinks were gone, and her space was cleaned like he’d never been there.

Her eyes watered but she refused to let the tears fall. What she’d been looking for sat neatly near the remote on the edge of the table.

A few missed calls. Emails. Everything looked fine until she noticed the one missed call from Smoke.

She didn’t call back.

_________________________________

Smoke sighed at the unskippable conversation between two men from legal. This would be fine if the conversation had been about what he paid them for, but this was small talk.

A conversation that he found himself stuck in as he rode the elevator. After awhile he thought that they’d noticed that his only contribution was a single head nod, but they didn’t care.

They asked if he was upgrading to a new truck since a new model was coming out, but he was so stuck in his own head that he didn’t hear which model they were even referring to. He also didn’t care.

Stack was waiting when he reached his floor. He laughed once he seen who he’d been stuck on the elevator with. They talked a lot, even too much for Elias.

“Gentlemen you’re suffocating my brother.” Stack said flatly as Smoke adjusted his tie, already over the day.

They scattered immediately and sent an apologetic smile. Everyone knew that they had one warning around here and then that was it. Booted and replaced and another professional eager to come in and assume their place.

“How are we looking for headlining next year?” Smoke asked as they walked to the meeting room.

Stack sighed dramatically. Then he grinned. “How we looking? We fucking got it.” He laughed. “Come on now I’m the best to ever do this shit.”

Smoke nodded. That was a given. “At least we got some good news today.” He mumbled. Elias raised his eyebrows, putting his hand out to stop his brother from walking further.

“You good?” Elijah looked at him, thought about how Aspen is actively ignoring him, but didn’t share that. He couldn’t. That wasn’t his thing.

“Elijah,” mama smiled softly as she fixed his shirt. “My big boy. ‘M so proud of you.”

This was the big night, or at least the biggest night of ten year old Elijah’s life. The church concert where he was the lead pianist.

He’d been in the play like Elias, but delivered the lines so flatly that they admitted he was better off standing there with the triangle.

But boy could he play those keys. It had been discovered on accident. They had been dropped off at Sunday school, but weren’t picked up when all the other kids were.

Elias was asleep in one of the isles, mouth open and snoring. Elijah found himself sitting behind the piano. He’d focus on it all the time.

He didn’t know what he was doing but he let his body lead him. He thought of a familiar hymn and before he knew it, he was playing it. It’d come to him naturally.

“Elijah that is amazing!” His Sunday school teacher beamed. He froze. “No I didn’t mean to startle you.” But he was already sliding the stool back in place and off the stage.

“‘M sorry ma’am.” He bowed his head.

“Don’t be. I think I have a spot for you in the play if you can do that again. What do you think?” She kneeled down to him.

He nodded. He reached over and hugged her before his brain could tell him to stop. Puzzled but grateful, she wrapped her arms around his body too.

“Never stop excelling Eli.” She whispered to him.

He jumped at the sound of daddy’s rustic truck. Elias was up from his sleep. Mrs. Smith, their lead Sunday school teacher, swallowed.

That was not normal.

“Thank you Patty.” Daddy took his hat off in respect and nodded. “My boys give you any lip?” He asked.

She didn’t ignore their eyes on her. “Of course not. May be the most behaved kids here.”

Daddy grunted, disapprovingly so. They knew what would follow as they walked back to his truck.

“Eli you get in. ‘Lias you walk. Look like you need to wake up anyhow.”

He never noticed that Elijah hurried and switched shoes, their only distinction, and took Elias’ place.

Smoke nodded. “Always.” He dabbed his brother up but Elias could feel the disconnect. Recognized it clearly as he did himself.

“And this has nothing to do with Miss Miami?” He lightly taunted. His eyes caught how Elijah’s flicked down at that.

“Man I just need a damn coffee. Stack move.” He pushed him slightly.

Stack chuckled. “Yeah that’s was I was bracing you for,” Smoke stopped.

“Someone broke the machine.” Stack chuckled as his brother’s fists tightened.

“Look Mike Tyson, calm down. I sent someone to get you one. Any minute now.” He said still clearly entertained.

Smoke in a meeting without coffee was not a happy sight. Everyone knew that.

“Yo ass real annoying.” Smoke grumbled before taking a seat at the empty table.

“Yeah and you was nicer when you were with that girl.” Stack fired back.

“You need a hobb—“

“Good evening gentlemen. Pardon my interruption.”

The bickering halted. Back to business.

_________________________________

Meetings went as scheduled. Informative, boring, but very necessary.

“Thank you.” The boys stood up and shook the hands of their new partners. New advertisement/endorsement deal unlocked.

The room fell empty before they talked amongst each other.

“You have Jerry in legal double check those numbers.” Smoke suggested to Stack.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Stack now loosened his tie. “This endorsement would align with every visual needed for Grace’s album. It pays for itself.” Stack concluded.

That was his lane. He could hear information one time and think about ten clear directions to go. His brain processed information very quickly.

Smoke nodded.

The sounds of a cellphone ringing sent both men searching for their phones. Elijah hoped it had been his but of course it wasn’t.

Stack looked at his screen and silenced it. Elijah recognized the look on his face.

“You hiding from somebody?” He inquired. Elias looked at him, he wasn’t as good holding his emotions in, never had been.

“Uh I guess.” He sighed. Elijah closed the notebook they had worked in to throw around numbers and hypotheticals. A silent ode for him to continue.

“Tori’s pregnant.” Stack said quietly. Elijah breathed out loudly.

“‘Lias you know better.” He reprimanded. This was the last thing that he expected. They both knew they weren’t doing that - at all. If it was going to happen then it’d happen right.

“I know,” his brother sighed. “Baby’s not going to make it.” He admitted.

“How you figure?” His attention fully on his Elias.

“We been reckless. Doing all types of stupid shit,” Elias followed up. “Fetus don’t even look right,”

Elijah sat quietly, unsure of what he needed to say. He usually made these things better, but even he was speechless this time.

He thought for a moment and knew what needed to be done. He pulled him into a hug and Elias stayed there for a minute. Just like they’d done many moons ago.

_________________________________

Adrienne waited patiently for Aspen to come out from her place in her Mercedes.

“Aspeee!” She beamed once her best friend entered the car. They hugged before she was reprimanded.

“Bitch now when were you going to say that you were in Miami!!” She eyed waiting for her to spill.

“God forbid I wanted some sunshine.” Aspen laughed as they headed to brunch.

“Girl you not going to Miami without me, unless you with a man.” Adrienne clocked.

“That is not true!” Aspen thought about it. Maybe she had a point, but that was her first time being there… and it was with a man. Her man? Something like that.

“Are you back with DJ? Be honest.” Adrienne glanced over once they reached a red light.

“No!” Aspen was disgusted. The professional basketball player hadn’t even texted her recently. Maybe they both finally moved on.

“Mhmmm.” Adrienne stretched out disapprovingly.

Aspen waited until they were seated and their mimosas arrived before ripping the bandage off.

“Okay, you’ve waited long enough. Here’s your mystery guy.” She bit her lip as she slid her phone across the table.

Adrienne picked up the phone, eyes narrowing at the side profile photo Aspen had captured.

“For a second, I thought… wait, that looks like Stack Moore.” She laughed nervously, shaking her head. “But that’s crazy, Stack isn’t your type.”

She looked again, slower this time, her eyes tracing the sharp jawline and familiar features. A frown crept in.

“Either this drink is already hitting, or that’s Smoke Moore.”

Aspen laughed at her, the quiet thrill bubbling in her chest. “Yeah.”

Adrienne blinked, momentarily speechless. “Aspen… you’re dating Smoke Moore.”

“Yeah.” Aspen sighed, remembering that they weren’t on the best terms right now.

“Please spill,” Adrienne begged. “Is it heavy? It looks like it might be heavy.” She stated bluntly.

“Adrienne!!” Aspen laughed, mostly embarrassed at her question, but also realized that she didn’t know. It felt heavy though. From her memory of the indent she felt from her place in his lap.

“We haven’t had sex.” Aspen told her truthfully. Adrienne lowered her eyes.

“You trolling me?” She pointed.

“What? Girl no. We haven’t did it.” She put her hands up defensively.

“Oh Aspen…. He likes you.” She lifted her glass and drowned it. “I always knew you were going to get married first.”

Aspen laughed, “You are a mess,” she filled her in with a few more moments, holding onto the ones she deemed more intimate.

She reduced it to just casual but Adrienne knew her too well. “I’m happy as long as you’re happy. You needed this.”

“What?”

“Aspen, DJ was a loser who just happened to be a millionaire. You needed this, a man. A real one girl.”

“I’m ignoring him.”

“You’re what??” Adrienne choked on her drink. “Are you seriously sabotaging yourself?”

“I’m just figuring something out that’s all,”

“So sabotaging.”

“No figuring something out.” She defended. “Now let’s eat. My stomach’s growling.”

♫ Now playing: Sabotage by Wale

_________________________________

“Well since you’re one step away from being single again let’s go to The Spotx.”

“Adrienne.”

“Don’t Adrienne me miss sabotage.”

The room looked like a boutique exploded — dresses draped over chairs, shoes lined up in messy rows. Aspen stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the sides of her black mini-dress. Her curls fell over her shoulders, makeup freshly done.

“You sure about this?” Aspen asked, glancing at Adrienne through the mirror.

Adrienne spun once in her sequined dress, smirking. “One hundred percent. We’ve both worked too damn much to sit at home again. Tonight we’re celebrating… nothing. And that’s the point.”

Aspen laughed softly, shaking her head. “You always make that sound so easy.”

“Because it is.” Adrienne plopped onto the bed, crossing her legs. “Come on, you’ve been hiding out like you’re in witness protection. I finally got you out, don’t ruin the vibe.”

Aspen gave her a look but didn’t argue. Adrienne already had her phone out, snapping a quick selfie of the two of them.

“Adrienne—”

“Relax, we look good.” Adrienne typed quickly, adding a caption with drinking glass emojis before tagging Aspen’s handle.

She hadn’t realized that Adrienne had tagged her, so it was now sitting right on her page too.

The line snaked down the block, lights spilling from the open doors while the bass thumped hard enough to rattle the pavement. Cars crawled past, headlights washing over groups waiting to get inside.

Adrienne looped her arm through Aspen’s. “We look too good to stand in line. Watch.”

Aspen raised a brow but followed, heels clicking against the sidewalk. Adrienne waved at the bouncer like she’d known him for years, exchanging a quick hug before pulling Aspen through the velvet rope.

Aspen laughed. “Of course you know him.”

“Baby, I know everyone,” Adrienne said with a wink.

The place was packed, lights strobing across the dancefloor in bursts of neon. Aspen sipped from her drink, standing at the edge while Adrienne was already in the middle, hair flying as she moved to the beat.

Adrienne grabbed her wrist, tugging her forward. “No hiding. I didn’t drag you out for you to babysit a vodka soda.”

“I’m not hiding,” Aspen said, though she let herself be pulled closer.

“Prove it.” Adrienne spun, laughing as she caught Aspen’s shoulders and pulled her into the rhythm. The bass was relentless, impossible to resist. Aspen finally let go, swaying with the crowd, the corners of her lips tugging upward.

“There she is!” Adrienne shouted over the music. “That’s the Aspen I remember.”

Aspen laughed, flushed from heat and adrenaline. Adrienne held her phone up, recording a ten-second clip of them dancing. She posted it immediately, tagging Aspen in bold letters so it appeared on both their pages.

Aspen didn’t stop her this time. The buzz of the music, the lights, the moment — it felt good.

For now.

_________________________________

Smoke’s penthouse was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy. He’d smoked an hour ago and yet his high felt gone.

Only a single lamp lit the living room, throwing shadows across the leather couch and glass table. The TV was on, muted, cycling through highlights from a game he hadn’t been really paying attention to.

Stack was with Tori per Smoke’s suggestion and he had no plans - per being ignored by Aspen. Who was.. Who didn’t have an official title.

Smoke sat slouched back, one arm draped over the couch, scrolling his phone without much focus. He didn’t beg. He wasn’t going to blow her phone up, but he just wanted to hear her voice. He didn’t care if she yelled or cried, but he’d grown to hate this silence between them.

He wasn’t expecting to see her.

The story popped up automatically — Adrienne’s flashing screen, music blaring in the background, neon lights streaking across the frame. At first, he almost skipped it. But then he saw the tag. Aspen’s name glowing on the screen.

His thumb froze.

She filled the camera for a moment, laughing, head tilted back, curls bouncing under the lights. That dress — short as hell, hugged every piece of her. Smoke sat up straight, the phone suddenly too close to his face.

His jaw flexed as he watched Adrienne pan the camera again. Aspen spinning once, the hem of her mini dress not lifting with the movement, thankfully.

Heat slammed through him, sharp and unwelcome.

Smoke exhaled through his nose, slow, deliberate. But his hand was already gripping the phone tighter. His chest tightened, tremor moving faster than it had all night.

For a moment he just stared at the screen, that slow burn of jealousy twisting deep. Why the fuck was the dress so short? Had he not made anything clear?

The muscles in his forearm flexed as he dropped the phone on the table with a heavy thud. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, running a hand over his face like it might cool him down.

It didn’t.

Smoke pushed up to his feet, moving with sharp precision. Shoes. Keys. Wallet. He didn’t even think about it — didn’t have to. The decision had already been made. Even if he knew deep down it was a big one.

She wanted to play games? Fine.

Let’s play.

_________________________________

@thefutureemmywinner @coldeforprez

@rolemodelshit @tnychellee @gunznroses4life

@bananajoeclone

[eternalglitter]

Elijah Versus Elias

(and sometimes both)

_________________________________

Elijah

• Makes you sit in guilt. Never too loud. Never says he’s upset outright. Just firm and steady responses until you crawling and begging for forgiveness.

• Loves eye contact. Knows you’re lying when you avoid it. Won’t let you cum until you look at him.

• Ironically hates distance. Hates space. After business he’s home to you. Driving? His hand is on your thigh. You take too long doing your hair? Gives you the money to pay a stylist for it the next time. Claims you doing it yourself “take too long.”

• Extremely attentive. You leave a dress out to iron? It’s done when you wake up the next morning. Car needs an oil change? Done before you mention it. That’s just the way he moves.

• Loves the soft pet names you give him. Won’t say anything about it but answers to every “love,” “baby,” “honey.”

• Appreciates a good matching set. He’d hand you his card and tell you to get “those sets you wear for me.”

• Loves pulling hair. Sometimes it’s gentle. He’d help put your hair up if you’re cooking. Sometimes if you’re in the garden. Or when you’re choking around his dick. He’d create a makeshift pony and hold it there for you.

• Retires you early. Hated seeing you working.

• Will trap you if you’re not careful. He’d warn you once, during the very first time, that he likes to paint walls. It was up to you to prevent it. Or not.

•Loves when you’re a brat. It goes against the calm restraint that he puts on, but subtly provoking you showed him how much you cared. He’s a flawed man but he was perfect.

•If he has to repeat himself then run, or get ready to pay up. His stamina is unmatched and overwhelming,

Elias

• Orgasm denial. He lives to see you fall apart. A game not built for you to win. He wants to lose, loves when you can’t hold it so he can tease you. “Aww baby it felt too good?”

• He loves being next to you in water. Doesn’t matter the context. The shower? Perfect. The pool? Fine. A hot tub? Even better. He loves water and loves you enjoying it with him.

• He likes when you cook for him. Buys you cute aprons and gifts you the nicest dishes. His way of showing appreciation for your hardwork. He couldn’t even boil an egg.

• White toe man. Simple, he knows but he can’t help but to follow your every move when you have a freshly done pedicure. He’s paid for every single service since the moment he seen them.

• Will slap you during sex. Not too much to hurt you but enough to redirect your focus. You’d love it though.

• Will watch you pleasure yourself over and over again with drunken eyes. Will tell you when to start and when to stop.

• Very into spanking. Won’t make you count every time but will bend you over the minute you start moving recklessly.

•D1 eater. So good at it that it becomes a punishment.

Elijah + Elias

• Oral fixation. Loves watching you apply lip gloss. Watches you when you bit your lip when you get anxious. Makes you taste yourself on their fingers. Comments on them sometimes but tries to not make it obvious (it is).

• Likes you clean and cute. Not too big on profanity coming from your pretty mouth. Never allowing you to be in drama or fighting. Would kill for you (quite literally).

• Extraordinary instincts. Know what you need even when you don’t ask. Knows when something is bugging you. Hates when you brush off your own feelings thinking you are “too sensitive,” or “doing too much.”

• Will lock you in the house if you try to leave. Though Elijah won’t ever admit it. Stack will gladly fess up to the insanity. “You just needed some time to think. Not leave.” He’d say when he comes back home the next day like he hadn’t prevented you from leaving.

•Lets you think you’re in control (sometimes) until you start to move like you actually are. Go to a party or somewhere without letting him know and watch how fast he finds out where you are.

• Praise kink!! You thank them for anything? Drawls off. You say you appreciate them? Easy. You give a compliment? Suspenders are loosened. Turns them all the way on.

• Never say that they’re ready. It’d just get quiet. Too quiet and when you look up eyes are already on you.

•Loves when you ride. Will sit back when you’re sexually frustrated and watch you work, thrusting up when your legs began to stiffen.

• Spoil you senseless. Elias would say, “No,” then show up with whatever you asked for. Elijah will act like be didn’t pick up on your hints, but followed through every time.

• Will swap the minute you not getting it (dont boo me)

[eternalglitter]

Coming Down - Stack Moore (2)

Vampire!Stack but notcanon!Vampire. He’s like 300 x newlybitten!reader. Soulmates 🧡

_________________________________

You’d been circling each other all night.

Not with words — with glances, with the way his thoughts brushed against yours like fingertips on bare skin. He was letting you feel him, but not have him. Not yet.

It was infuriating. It was deliberate. It was Elias.

You didn’t want blood. You didn’t want the city outside. You wanted him. Every inch, every thought, every sound he made when he finally lost control.

Careful, his voice slid through you, low and amused. You’re loud in here.

“Then do something about it,” you said sharper than you meant to. You were just incredibly needy. You needed him. Needed to hear his whimpers needed him to break from this careful act. You needed to be ruined and by your snapping, you’re sure that it’d happen now.

He didn’t move at first. Just leaned back in his chair, one arm hooked over the side, studying you like he could strip you bare without touching you. He almost did, but he didn’t. He’d give you the benefit of doubt. New hunger couldn’t be controlled and luckily he had everything that you needed.

Come here.

The command rippled through you. You crossed the room before you realized you’d moved in a second, thankful for the newfound speed. Standing in front of him, you could see it — the way his chest rose just a little faster, the subtle tightening in his jaw. He needed this as badly as you did, and he was done pretending otherwise.

You needed him that bad? He’d give it to you.

In one smooth motion, he caught your hips and pulled you down onto his lap. You straddled him without hesitation, your hands braced on his shoulders. Bottoms long gone.

The moment your mouths met, the air between you broke. His kiss was deep, taking, his fangs brushing just enough to make you dampen his pants.

Your scent was driving him mad. Intoxicating. He breathed you in like he’d waited on you and truthfully told — he had.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, tugging until he growled against your mouth — low, dangerous, hungry. His hands slid beneath your shirt, cold at first, then heating fast as your bodies tangled closer. Every brush of skin, every shift of muscle was another hit, another rush.

Been waiting for you, he breathed in your head, his voice rough now, frayed at the edges. His hands gripping your breasts, biting his lip at the sounds you made.

“So take me.” you gasped, and felt the way it made him shudder. In an instant he had you in his arms and slid through the halls of the mansion, only stopping when he reached his room, the room that now belonged to the both of you. The room where he’d take you and drench you in his scent.

Elias’ touches made the world outside dissolve. There was only the heat of his body, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, the way his mouth claimed yours like he couldn’t breathe without you.

His fingers prepped you for him. Fluid, intentional, until you panted loudly for him. He’d never heard anything as pretty as the sounds you made for him.

Done with the teasing, he held himself and sank into you slowly. He’d shed a single tear if his thoughts were not so cloudy. He’d been waiting on you for so long that his control was slipping, just slightly. Especially when your scent, the one that only belonged to him, told on you every time. You needed him. Needed that connection.

He thought the whimpers falling from your mouth were beautiful. The more you gave, the more he gave back, until you were both caught in the same high, drunk on each other, feeding something that had nothing to do with hunger.

This was deeper than sex. This was being reunited. A new memory of you two together flowed through your mind as Elias filled you up. In every lifetime Elias found you. And in every lifetime you chose him.

“Yessssss Eliass,” you dragged out, clawing at his already healing skin.

You couldn’t control this body yet. Your nails retracted and extending repeatedly. He didn’t mind. He’d show you on another day when he wasn’t breaking his century old celibacy. When you weren’t soaking up the sheets.

“Fuckkk baby. What took you so long??” He whimpered into your ear. That only turned you on more, making your eyes flicker against his skin.

The sound of his neediness, only for you to hear, was a reminder of how much he loved you. How long he waited for you.

“I-I’m h-here now,” You sputtered out. Something in you was changing.

Something in you was changing. Your eyes flashed the piercing glow of grey, back to brown, then spun to grey. Your nails uncontrollably, clawing at Elias’ poor back and goodness those teeth. Altering between your previous set to your extended canines.

Elias chuckled. Still so proud even when he was digging into you. Hypnotizing you with every stroke.

Aww baby. Look at you slipping. ‘S okay. Want you to keep slipping. Want you to cum for me.

“Elias!” You groaned as his went deeper, pushing your legs further, making your body lose the rest of the control it pathetically tried to hold on to.

“Yeah?” He answered aloud tauntingly. This was the Elias you remembered. And this time he wasn’t letting you go.

“I’m going—“ cut off by the way this man plunged into you silenced your thoughts. Your heart would stop if it hadn’t already.

“You gonna?” He teased as he angled himself to trigger your waterfall.

Didn’t think you could do that. Huh?

He even mocked you inside of your head. Safe, cruel, intoxicating sex with the love of your life. This was the life you were always destined to live. He just needed to find you.

One squirming orgasm later, you lay tangled together quietly. Your head was light, your body heavy, your mind blissfully drowned in him. But your needs were satisfied. That hunger subsided for now.

The fire was dying, but the room still felt warm — the kind of heat that settled deep in your skin and refused to leave. Elias’s arm was draped over your waist, his palm spread against your stomach like he was keeping you anchored.

You could feel his thoughts brushing yours in lazy waves, softer now, the sharp edges smoothed by what you’d just done. He too seemed relaxed. And clearly relieved.

“How long?” you murmured, your voice still rough from the workout session.

He didn’t ask what you meant. His lips grazed your shoulder before he answered. “Longer than you’d believe.”

“Try me.”

His fingers traced an idle line along your ribs, as if he was memorizing them. I felt you coming back before you breathed your first breath.

You turned your head toward him, but he was staring at the ceiling, eyes unfocused — not avoiding you, just somewhere far away.

“I was careful,” he continued, voice low, like the words themselves were dangerous. “Too careful.” He admitted.

“I didn’t cheat.” He held you tighter. “Didn’t touch you before you were ready. Didn’t take you before you chose me. Just waited until you came to me?”

“And if I didn’t come?”

A faint smile curved his mouth. “You’ve been choosing me for years.” He answered cockily.

“Called for me. Cried for me in all those dreams. I just waited for the night where you thought a little bit harder and came home.”

You shifted, rolling onto your side so you could face him fully. “You could’ve had anyone else in that time.”

His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, his stare was so strong it stole your breath. No. The word hit you harder than it should’ve.

I could only have you.

Something in your chest tightened, and you didn’t know if it was breeze or just the truth of it settling in.

“I thought I was the one being hunted,” you admitted softly.

“You were,” His hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Similar to how you just felt, I was starving, too. You’re the only thing I’ve ever been hungry for.”

I couldn’t speed up the process if I wanted to, could rarely intervene but I broke the rules just to keep you safe. I called you every night but it was up to you to hear me.

The words slid through you like heat, like he’d just fed you without touching an ounce blood.

You kissed him again, slow and certain, and when you pulled back, you knew — he wasn’t going to let you go.

And you weren’t going to ask him to.

_________________________________

@rolemodelshit @prettyisasprettydoes1306

[eternalglitter]

😁😁😁

♫ Have Ya Babies | Smoke Moore

(5)..I mean she so perfect in her own little world. We built the foundation, everything I want in a girl..

Most people who tried to figure Smoke out eventually grew tired. He never fessed up, did things his way, and he could go a while without talking. That wasn’t a challenge everyone wanted to pursue. Everyone but Elias.

The thing about Smoke was, he never moved entirely quiet — not to Stack.

Stack loved reading in between the lines and figuring out what his big brother was up to. He did enjoy his night with his cousin and Metro, but the way that Smoke didn’t return home the next day was unusual. He hated Miami.

Smoke didn’t even let him know that he made it until late that night. A short message. Followed by a one-word reply when questioned. It would sound like Smoke to everyone else but Elias felt the difference. The shift in energy, only enough for him to notice.

He clocked it, but didn’t press. He was a concise man. He needed a solid piece of evidence before doing what he did best; bothering the hell out of his brother.

He went still, thinking. Then it hit him. One quick scroll through the nonprofit’s Instagram would tell him everything he needed.

It was initially predictable. Videos of empty tables and chairs prior to guests arriving, muted videos of the founders, parents, community leaders. Then in the background of the a short video, barely in the shot, is the silhouette of his brother and another figure.

A woman.

Stack went digging — just a little, grinning like the cheshire cat.

Didn’t take long. He scrolled through Smoke’s following list with half a smirk, and there she was. Aspen. Cute girl, nothing loud. Witty captions. She wasn’t trying to be noticed but it seems like Smoke had noticed. Of the 39 people that Smoke followed Stack didn’t doubt that it was her.

Stack took a screenshot. And in true Smoke-like fashion, sent it with one word.

(1 attachment)

Caught.

He leaned back, laughing under his breath like the menace he was born to be and waited for Smoke to bite.

You got too much time on your hands.

Stack chuckled but quickly realized that it didn’t mean denial. He was owning it?

You the one playing house in Miami. I just connected the dots 😂😂

A few minutes passed before the next text came through.

I ain’t playing.

That one sat a little heavier. He didn’t have a rapid response to that. He stayed longer than just business required.

Stack smiled quietly at that. He hated being out the loop — always had. Reminded him too much of Daddy. The lies they tried to hide for years. But this?

This wasn’t a lie.

This was just Smoke keeping something close. Stack could respect that.

Still — he had to have the last word. Just to keep it right and keep Smoke from getting what’d he call, “too soft.”

About damn time

________________________________

♫ Now Playing: Love Is Only A Feeling by Joey BadA$$

Aspen and Smoke left Miami later than initially planned. The next morning Smoke stayed still an hour before Aspen woke up. He sat there quietly for a while until his phone vibrated, reminding him of the life that both of them were disconnected from.

Stack. Expected.

Almost as if she sensed the shift in him, Aspen blinked her eyes open.

“Smoke?” she yawned, stretching into the sheets before squeezing her lids shut again.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, one arm still draped around her.

“What’s your real name?” she murmured, shifting against him, her curiosity slipping out before she was fully awake.

“You always wake up with questions?” The roughness in his voice made her pause. She swallowed.

“You gone answer it?” She smiled, her fingers tracing lazy circles against his chest.

“Thomas.” He answered immediately.

It got silent for a while before Aspen eyed him. “Now you know damn well your name ain’t Thomas.”

That earned a chuckle from Smoke.

“Anybody ever tell you that you’re funny?” He deflected. Aspen wasn’t having that.

“All the time. Now spit it out.” She pushed.

“You kind of bossy.” He answered, mostly entertained. Aspen liked the sound of his laughter. She liked how loose he seemed.

“Mhmm.” She groaned. “I could just look it up.”

“I’m sure you have. Unless you used to traveling with strangers.” His tone softened, teasing but edged with truth.

“Smoke.” She warned gently.

“I quit.” Her eyes turned to curiosity. “My government name is Elijah.” He shrugged. “Can’t keep it a secret with this lifestyle anyway.”

“That’s cute. Elijah.” She repeated quietly. Had she already known that? Maybe. But something about hearing it from him made it special, more personal.

“Cute?” Smoke repeated shaking his head. “Baby. You’re cute.” She laughed as that.

“What’s your brother’s name? It has to match. Something with a ring to it.”

“A ring?” Smoke questioned.

“Yes, a ring. Y’all are black twins. Don’t tell me that you have completely opposite names.” Aspen sighed.

“Never thought about it that way.” He admitted, suddenly thinking about the similarities between Elijah and Elias. Even when they became Smoke and Stack.

Same initial. Same accord.

“Sooo?” She dragged dramatically.

“Right.” He chuckled again at the timidity. “Elias. Elijah and Elias Moore.”

“I love it!” She gushed. “When I was a little girl, many moons ago, I swore I’d have twins. Had the names picked and everything.”

Smoke snorted. He hadn’t meant to do it but he wasn’t expecting her to say that.

“You gone tell me the names?” He asked suddenly curious.

“Don’t laugh.” She warned. “Eva and Ava.” She whispered before busting into a fit of giggles. “I just knew I was going to have twin girls.”

Smoke bit back his smile, pulling her slightly closer to him. “You know you can always increase those odds.”

“I suppose I could huh.” She whispered, suddenly feeling a bit more breathless than she had all morning.

He nodded. He leaned in, lips grazing just past hers, tension thickening—then, with the kind of restraint that always left her reeling, he shifted.

“Ready to head back?”

Aspen blinked, thrown by the sudden change, her pulse still racing. That restraint of his felt dangerous. And every time, it made her blood run warmer.

He noticed and he loved it.

_________________________________

Life went back to normal for Elijah and Aspen quickly. Aspen started yet another book on clinical psychology and Elijah attended endless meetings. No chance for either of them to break free.

Aspen sat in her living room for a while. Miles not too far away. This week sucked. She glanced at the bouquet intentionally picked out by Adrienne sitting on her desk.

Aspen sighed. Everyone knew what this week would look like for her.

“Jo,” she spoke aloud. “You’d like him.” She whispered starring at her ceiling. “Likes music just like you,”

“Quiet too. He wears suits often though,” she stifled a laugh. “You’d hate that.”

Suddenly feeling a bit better Aspen continued to speak to aloud to her late brother.

“He’s nice Jo. Nothing like the last one and that’s terrifying,” she sighed. “I’m just waiting for it to crash. You know?”

And as if he knew that he was the subject of the conversation, Smoke rang her.

“You home?” He breathed from the other line.

“Yeah. You alright?”

“Perfect.” He answered after a long pause. “You eat something?”

“Um not yet.” Aspen answered a bit thrown off.

“I’ll call you back.” And with that he was gone.

_________________________________

Her phone lit up with a dozen meaningless notifications, but she barely glanced. The only thing that mattered was the picture she’d posted on her story — Joseph and her on an old swing. No words. No explanation.

By the time the knock came, she hadn’t even realized the story had expired.

Elijah stood on the other side, a takeout bag in hand, sleeves rolled.

“You hungry?” he asked simply.

Aspen blinked at him, caught between confusion and something softer.

“Smoke what are you doing here?” Suddenly cautious of how exhausted she must look and anxious to be seen in this state.

He slowly lifted the bag up. “Saw your post.”

Her throat tightened. He didn’t say which one. Didn’t need to. Her heart suddenly felt sharp against her ribs.

“Yeah?” Her voice wavered.

“Yeah.”

Aspen took the bag of takeout from his hands. Hesitant at first then, “You can stay,” she exhaled, “if you’re not busy.”

He stared at her for a moment before he nodded. It wasn’t his place to assume his presence in the midst of her grief. But he seen her. And he cared for her.

He followed Aspen to the living room, observing the entirety of the room only when Aspen went to retrieve plates. A framed photo caught his eye, a small girl with pigtails holding a taller boy tightly. He swallowed.

When she returned to the living room Elijah was already removing cartons from the bag. He bought an assortment of food, not sure what she hated or loved.

Elijah noticed how she handed him the plates. No hovering, no talking, just a silent ode to his rank in her life. The opportunity to lead.

Aspen curled into one end of the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. They ate mostly in silence. He cracked open her drink, slid it across the cushion without looking at her, brushed her empty container aside when she leaned back. Little things. Thoughtless, maybe. Careful, definitely.

“Hard week?” he asked finally, voice low, eyes on the muted TV.

Her throat tightened. She nodded, staring at her lap.

He didn’t push. Just leaned back into the couch, one arm draped along the cushion, close enough that she felt the weight of him even without his touch.

And for the first time all day, she didn’t feel like she was carrying it alone.

She carried it but someone else was carrying with her.

“Thank you Smoke.” She spoke quietly after he cleaned their mess.

He thought for a moment before speaking aloud, “Elijah.”

Aspen’s eyes fluttered a few times before she could control her face. “Elijah.” She nodded, feeling something in her abdomen shift at the gentle correction.

Elijah.

@thefutureemmywinner

@coldeforprez

@rolemodelshit

@tnychellee

@gunznroses4life

@bananajoeclone

[eternalglitter]

♫ Have Ya Babies | Smoke Moore

(5)..I mean she so perfect in her own little world. We built the foundation, everything I want in a girl..

Most people who tried to figure Smoke out eventually grew tired. He never fessed up, did things his way, and he could go a while without talking. That wasn’t a challenge everyone wanted to pursue. Everyone but Elias.

The thing about Smoke was, he never moved entirely quiet — not to Stack.

Stack loved reading in between the lines and figuring out what his big brother was up to. He did enjoy his night with his cousin and Metro, but the way that Smoke didn’t return home the next day was unusual. He hated Miami.

Smoke didn’t even let him know that he made it until late that night. A short message. Followed by a one-word reply when questioned. It would sound like Smoke to everyone else but Elias felt the difference. The shift in energy, only enough for him to notice.

He clocked it, but didn’t press. He was a concise man. He needed a solid piece of evidence before doing what he did best; bothering the hell out of his brother.

He went still, thinking. Then it hit him. One quick scroll through the nonprofit’s Instagram would tell him everything he needed.

It was initially predictable. Videos of empty tables and chairs prior to guests arriving, muted videos of the founders, parents, community leaders. Then in the background of the a short video, barely in the shot, is the silhouette of his brother and another figure.

A woman.

Stack went digging — just a little, grinning like the cheshire cat.

Didn’t take long. He scrolled through Smoke’s following list with half a smirk, and there she was. Aspen. Cute girl, nothing loud. Witty captions. She wasn’t trying to be noticed but it seems like Smoke had noticed. Of the 39 people that Smoke followed Stack didn’t doubt that it was her.

Stack took a screenshot. And in true Smoke-like fashion, sent it with one word.

(1 attachment)

Caught.

He leaned back, laughing under his breath like the menace he was born to be and waited for Smoke to bite.

You got too much time on your hands.

Stack chuckled but quickly realized that it didn’t mean denial. He was owning it?

You the one playing house in Miami. I just connected the dots 😂😂

A few minutes passed before the next text came through.

I ain’t playing.

That one sat a little heavier. He didn’t have a rapid response to that. He stayed longer than just business required.

Stack smiled quietly at that. He hated being out the loop — always had. Reminded him too much of Daddy. The lies they tried to hide for years. But this?

This wasn’t a lie.

This was just Smoke keeping something close. Stack could respect that.

Still — he had to have the last word. Just to keep it right and keep Smoke from getting what’d he call, “too soft.”

About damn time

________________________________

♫ Now Playing: Love Is Only A Feeling by Joey BadA$$

Aspen and Smoke left Miami later than initially planned. The next morning Smoke stayed still an hour before Aspen woke up. He sat there quietly for a while until his phone vibrated, reminding him of the life that both of them were disconnected from.

Stack. Expected.

Almost as if she sensed the shift in him, Aspen blinked her eyes open.

“Smoke?” she yawned, stretching into the sheets before squeezing her lids shut again.

“Yeah.” His voice was low, one arm still draped around her.

“What’s your real name?” she murmured, shifting against him, her curiosity slipping out before she was fully awake.

“You always wake up with questions?” The roughness in his voice made her pause. She swallowed.

“You gone answer it?” She smiled, her fingers tracing lazy circles against his chest.

“Thomas.” He answered immediately.

It got silent for a while before Aspen eyed him. “Now you know damn well your name ain’t Thomas.”

That earned a chuckle from Smoke.

“Anybody ever tell you that you’re funny?” He deflected. Aspen wasn’t having that.

“All the time. Now spit it out.” She pushed.

“You kind of bossy.” He answered, mostly entertained. Aspen liked the sound of his laughter. She liked how loose he seemed.

“Mhmm.” She groaned. “I could just look it up.”

“I’m sure you have. Unless you used to traveling with strangers.” His tone softened, teasing but edged with truth.

“Smoke.” She warned gently.

“I quit.” Her eyes turned to curiosity. “My government name is Elijah.” He shrugged. “Can’t keep it a secret with this lifestyle anyway.”

“That’s cute. Elijah.” She repeated quietly. Had she already known that? Maybe. But something about hearing it from him made it special, more personal.

“Cute?” Smoke repeated shaking his head. “Baby. You’re cute.” She laughed as that.

“What’s your brother’s name? It has to match. Something with a ring to it.”

“A ring?” Smoke questioned.

“Yes, a ring. Y’all are black twins. Don’t tell me that you have completely opposite names.” Aspen sighed.

“Never thought about it that way.” He admitted, suddenly thinking about the similarities between Elijah and Elias. Even when they became Smoke and Stack.

Same initial. Same accord.

“Sooo?” She dragged dramatically.

“Right.” He chuckled again at the timidity. “Elias. Elijah and Elias Moore.”

“I love it!” She gushed. “When I was a little girl, many moons ago, I swore I’d have twins. Had the names picked and everything.”

Smoke snorted. He hadn’t meant to do it but he wasn’t expecting her to say that.

“You gone tell me the names?” He asked suddenly curious.

“Don’t laugh.” She warned. “Eva and Ava.” She whispered before busting into a fit of giggles. “I just knew I was going to have twin girls.”

Smoke bit back his smile, pulling her slightly closer to him. “You know you can always increase those odds.”

“I suppose I could huh.” She whispered, suddenly feeling a bit more breathless than she had all morning.

He nodded. He leaned in, lips grazing just past hers, tension thickening—then, with the kind of restraint that always left her reeling, he shifted.

“Ready to head back?”

Aspen blinked, thrown by the sudden change, her pulse still racing. That restraint of his felt dangerous. And every time, it made her blood run warmer.

He noticed and he loved it.

_________________________________

Life went back to normal for Elijah and Aspen quickly. Aspen started yet another book on clinical psychology and Elijah attended endless meetings. No chance for either of them to break free.

Aspen sat in her living room for a while. Miles not too far away. This week sucked. She glanced at the bouquet intentionally picked out by Adrienne sitting on her desk.

Aspen sighed. Everyone knew what this week would look like for her.

“Jo,” she spoke aloud. “You’d like him.” She whispered starring at her ceiling. “Likes music just like you,”

“Quiet too. He wears suits often though,” she stifled a laugh. “You’d hate that.”

Suddenly feeling a bit better Aspen continued to speak to aloud to her late brother.

“He’s nice Jo. Nothing like the last one and that’s terrifying,” she sighed. “I’m just waiting for it to crash. You know?”

And as if he knew that he was the subject of the conversation, Smoke rang her.

“You home?” He breathed from the other line.

“Yeah. You alright?”

“Perfect.” He answered after a long pause. “You eat something?”

“Um not yet.” Aspen answered a bit thrown off.

“I’ll call you back.” And with that he was gone.

_________________________________

Her phone lit up with a dozen meaningless notifications, but she barely glanced. The only thing that mattered was the picture she’d posted on her story — Joseph and her on an old swing. No words. No explanation.

By the time the knock came, she hadn’t even realized the story had expired.

Elijah stood on the other side, a takeout bag in hand, sleeves rolled.

“You hungry?” he asked simply.

Aspen blinked at him, caught between confusion and something softer.

“Smoke what are you doing here?” Suddenly cautious of how exhausted she must look and anxious to be seen in this state.

He slowly lifted the bag up. “Saw your post.”

Her throat tightened. He didn’t say which one. Didn’t need to. Her heart suddenly felt sharp against her ribs.

“Yeah?” Her voice wavered.

“Yeah.”

Aspen took the bag of takeout from his hands. Hesitant at first then, “You can stay,” she exhaled, “if you’re not busy.”

He stared at her for a moment before he nodded. It wasn’t his place to assume his presence in the midst of her grief. But he seen her. And he cared for her.

He followed Aspen to the living room, observing the entirety of the room only when Aspen went to retrieve plates. A framed photo caught his eye, a small girl with pigtails holding a taller boy tightly. He swallowed.

When she returned to the living room Elijah was already removing cartons from the bag. He bought an assortment of food, not sure what she hated or loved.

Elijah noticed how she handed him the plates. No hovering, no talking, just a silent ode to his rank in her life. The opportunity to lead.

Aspen curled into one end of the couch, tucking her feet beneath her. They ate mostly in silence. He cracked open her drink, slid it across the cushion without looking at her, brushed her empty container aside when she leaned back. Little things. Thoughtless, maybe. Careful, definitely.

“Hard week?” he asked finally, voice low, eyes on the muted TV.

Her throat tightened. She nodded, staring at her lap.

He didn’t push. Just leaned back into the couch, one arm draped along the cushion, close enough that she felt the weight of him even without his touch.

And for the first time all day, she didn’t feel like she was carrying it alone.

She carried it but someone else was carrying with her.

“Thank you Smoke.” She spoke quietly after he cleaned their mess.

He thought for a moment before speaking aloud, “Elijah.”

Aspen’s eyes fluttered a few times before she could control her face. “Elijah.” She nodded, feeling something in her abdomen shift at the gentle correction.

Elijah.

@thefutureemmywinner

@coldeforprez

@rolemodelshit

@tnychellee

@gunznroses4life

@bananajoeclone

[eternalglitter]

Coming Down - Stack Moore (1)

Vampire! Stack x Human! Reader (mostly). I couldn’t sleep and ended up falling in love with this concept. I hope you love it as much as I do 🧡

_________________________________

All alone.

That’s what you were — or at least, that’s what you told yourself. Alone in the dark. Heartbeat in your ears.

But deep down, you knew better.

You could feel him in the air, in the way the shadows pressed in. Watching. Waiting. Whispering your name like he always did when you were too far gone.

He was real. You knew it. You’d felt him for so long — in the static between songs, in the silence after a laugh, in the way the night sometimes stared back at you. He called you here, and in your drunken courage you followed.

Now that courage was fading.

You stood in a pitch-black, abandoned mansion, chasing a feeling like it was a fix.

“I… I know you’re here.” Your voice didn’t even sound like yours, laced with both fear and hope. “You called for me.”

Your own words bounced back off the empty walls. You should’ve been scared — hell, maybe you were. But you were also too far gone. Talking to yourself in an abandoned house, in the woods, past midnight… maybe that’s what crazy looked like.

Despite your limited vision and common sense you walked further into the unknown.

“I’m not crazy,” you whispered in the darkness. “Just… say something. Tell me why you called me here.”

You turned — or thought you did — toward the way you came in. Hard to tell with your vision swimming, the black swallowing everything.

Then you felt it.

Not sound. Not movement.

Heat.

A slow burn in your chest. Your throat drying out. Fingers trembling. Skin waking up in goosebumps.

You weren’t alone anymore.

He was behind you. You could feel his stare pressing into your spine, making the hair on your arms stand. You didn’t dare look.

“You know,” His voice slid through you like a knife. “sane people don’t wander into the woods at night.”

Your breath hitched — regret flooding your veins like the high wearing off. He was definitely real.

“You can open your eyes.” He sounded amused now. “I won’t bite.” A low chuckle. “Unless you want me to.”

You opened your lids to meet with his eyes. And his? Electric blue, sharp enough to hypnotize, froze you in place.

You couldn’t scream. Couldn’t run. Your body was locked up, every nerve wired into him. You stayed that way until he finally looked away, releasing you.

Great. Not only was he real, he could paralyze you.

“What… what are you?”

“Whatever you need me to be, baby.” His voice dropped lower, and your heartbeat spiked without permission. You knew he felt it too.

“Why did you call me here?”

“Better question,” he said, scanning you like you were something he’d ordered and was deciding if he liked, “why did you come?”

“I—” You faltered. “I can’t take it anymore. You’re in my head. Day. Night. I’m going insane. This… this isn’t real.”

If it’s not real, why can you hear me, love? He smirked, stepping closer. Despite your own discomfort you noticed that his mouth hadn’t moved that time yet you still heard him.

“All those people you were with tonight? Nothing. Unchanged. But you…” His eyes shifted — from ice to deep, dark brown. Human again. Almost.

“You’re the only one who can hear me.” He circled you, slow, predatory. “So maybe I should be asking… what do you want from me?”

“I’m not the one in your head!” You say firmly, attempting to find your ground.

“Oh but you are.” He laughs stepping closer. “I been waiting on you baby. I’m happy you’re finally home.” He whispers in your ear. You expected yourself to push him away and to deny it, but it makes… sense?

You hear this same voice before bed and sometimes when you’re out drinking you feel like someone’s watching you, but they always are the usual suspects. Until a thought crosses your mind. A realization.

“The random people that buy me drinks and somehow always get me home…”

His eyes glistened. Now you were getting it.

“It’s all you.”

“Their vessels,” he said simply, “my actions.”

You breathe out in disbelief, a single tear falling from your face at your fate. Your stomach twisted, cruel knots pulling tighter with every heartbeat. It made you nauseous, like your own body was rejecting the truth.

You’d been drinking more these last few months. It was becoming too much. Life paired with the endless voices of someone you never seen but felt everyday. Drunk, far gone, you could almost convince yourself he was only a nightmare. Almost.

“Someone had to keep you safe.” He adds. “You wanted to forget me before you got the chance to accept me.” This time you don’t step back when he steps forward.

“What are you?” You repeat. This time slower, calmer. You’re not sure what you’re expecting but the sinister smile being reflected from the moonlight answers your question. A flash of his canines stop your thoughts.

“This isn’t real.” You conclude looking down. But when you glanced back up, the moonlight caught on teeth that didn’t belong to anything human.

Too many, too sharp, too patient.

“Oh but it is and I’ve been waiting for you.”

He moved before you could think, before you could remember how to breathe.

A hand — cold at first, then warming like it had been empty for too long — rested at the back of your neck. Not pulling. Not pushing. Just there.

Your body betrayed you. The shiver that crawled down your spine wasn’t fear, not entirely.

“I could’ve met you earlier,” he murmured, voice brushing your ear. “Every night when you felt watched… I was there and you knew it.”

His thumb traced a slow line along your jaw, tilting your face toward his. Your mind screamed to step back, but your feet stayed planted, rooted in the gravity between you.

The air thickened. You swore you could hear your pulse in his chest — or maybe it was his in yours.

“You’ve been mine longer than you know.”

The corners of his mouth curved, not quite a smile, not quite a threat. His other hand found your wrist, fingers curling around it just enough to feel the beat there.

“Fast,” he said, eyes glinting. “You’re afraid.” A pause. “But you’re not pulling away.”

He leaned closer, his forehead barely brushing yours. You could smell him — not cologne, not anything human, but something older, sharper.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

Your breath caught. Because you didn’t know the answer.

Before you could decide, his palm slid to the small of your back, pulling you against him in one quick, deliberate movement.

The heat in your chest flared into something you couldn’t name — want tangled with dread, safety tangled with surrender.

“See?” he whispered. “You were never lost. You were finding your way back to me. It was always going to be tonight.”

You should’ve said no. You should’ve stepped back. But his mouth was on yours before either thought could take root. The kiss was deep, slow at first, then urgent — like he’d been starving and you were the only thing that could touch the hunger.

The cold from his hand seeped into your skin, replaced in seconds by a heat that crawled over your body like wildfire. His fingers slid into your hair, tugging your head just enough for his lips to leave yours and travel lower — jaw, throat, collarbone.

By the time you felt the sting, you were already pulling him closer. The pain melted into something else — a rush so sharp it bordered on bliss. Your knees nearly gave out, but he held you there, every heartbeat flooding into him, every exhale tying you closer. Every memory of yours revealed to him.

The world narrowed to his breath, his hands, the press of his body against yours.

“Elias,” he whispered against your skin.

The name tore through you — because you’d heard it before. It was always been sitting in the back of your mind, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

He drew back just enough for you to see him — eyes brighter than before, mouth stained. Your own pulse was a drumbeat in your skull, but it was slowing, softening, giving way to something deeper.

“Say it,” he urged.

“Elias,” you breathed, and the sound of it felt like surrender.

The heat in your chest flared, then broke, spilling through every vein. You gasped, but it wasn’t air you were craving anymore. Your vision sharpened; the shadows breathed. The night outside the mansion sang with a thousand heartbeats you shouldn’t have been able to hear.

When he kissed you again, you realized he didn’t taste like blood — he tasted like the rest of your life.

[eternalglitter]

Crack of dawn - Smoke Moore

My favorite twin. Another Mbj fic. Another submissive reader x dommbjcharacter! Lol

_________________________________

4 a.m. was the perfect time.

Hands tangled in pastel sheets. Lips biting back the screams threatening to escape. Smoke loved this hour.

He always started slow. Excruciatingly patient, until your chest heaved and you felt small, pathetic. He never asked for you outright—he didn’t need to. The brush of his lips against your bare shoulder in the middle of the night was the only warning you’d ever get.

Shoulders kissed again and again. Lips grazing your throat, never biting, never rushing. Just enough to make your eyes flutter, just enough to have you tilting your neck in silent begging.

“Smoke.”

“Mhmm.”

You tried to close the distance, to steal a kiss, but his arms kept you pinned in place. All you could do was endure his cruelty.

When he finally leaned down to your mouth, the kiss was filthily wicked—warm, deliberate, a game you were destined to lose.

And when a tear slipped free, he kissed it away as though he wasn’t the reason it fell. His pace never changed. Cruel. Steady. The sound of your begging meant nothing. That was what broke you—not his touch, but his refusal to bend. Even angry, Smoke didn’t snap. He drew it out, made you feel every ounce of his patience, every ounce of his control.

The pace stayed merciless. Unchanging. After your second climax, you weren’t sure if you were begging for more or begging for mercy. His eyes half-lidded, watching. Your body hiccupping, lips forming apologies he’d already heard a hundred times.

“P-pleaaseee.”

“Mhmm.”

That same sickening reply. His fingers curled deliberately, milking that spot over and over until your voice cracked.

“Smokeeee!”

But you couldn’t ask to cum. You couldn’t form the words—not when he was tearing every ounce of control away from you. You’d just have to beg for forgiveness.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice laced with mockery, a smug smile threatening. “What? You sorry?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know.”

His head dipped, eyes fixed on the mess around his fingers. He stayed composed, maddeningly so—even when proof of your undoing dripped between his knuckles. He shook his head like he hadn’t just ruined you. Like he wasn’t nearly ready for it to be over.

His baby, teary-eyed under the moonlight. Breathless. Pouted lips. Glimmering mess made only for him.

“What’s the rule?” His first real question all night, sharp enough to cut through your haze.

“Eyes on you.”

“Eyes on me.” He repeated, slower, testing if you’d break again. “You can do that? Or are you gon keep fucking up?”

The first lick to your swollen clit ripped your hips from the sheets, only for him to throw your legs over his shoulders and pin you down with ease. A soft kiss to your thigh—your only warning—before his tongue dragged through you.

You closed your eyes. Only for a second. But Smoke noticed. He always noticed.

His mouth disappeared. Your legs tossed aside.

“I—”

“Stop.”

Your words died instantly. Silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. He knew it ate you alive not to know if you’d been forgiven.

“Close your eyes.” His voice softer now, deceptively so. “I got you.”

You obeyed. Anything for him to keep going. Even if you knew that voice was distracting you from what was coming.

The bed dipped. His hands spread you open. Another kiss to your thigh before—

“Open.”

His gaze locked to yours as his lips brushed yours. And then he sank into you, slow and devastating, stretching you open at dawn.

“Shhh. It’s okay. I got you.” His voice soothed even as your body trembled, adjusting to the width. One thing about the quiet ones? They carried their loudness below the belt.

You knew what he was waiting for when his mouth trailed your neck. You nodded, a silent plea for him to move.

And when he did, the calm was gone. Each stroke shattered through restraint, rough enough to fold you in half if he wasn’t holding you so tight.

“Obedience—” his voice broke with a groan as your body curled around him, “is all I ask for.” He folded your legs deeper, hitting that forbidden place until your eyes rolled back.

“That so hard?” His thrusts rattled through you, enough to split you apart.

“NO, DADDY, I’M SORRYYYYY!”

“Mmhmm.”

He loved it. Loved watching you unravel. Loved making sure you’d never forget this.

When he pulled out only to rub himself against your throbbing clit, you cried out again. His composure wavered, just slightly—the tight line of his jaw, the grunt that slipped when he slid back inside with merciless pace.

“You wanna cum, baby?” His words unhinged, cruel.

“Y-yesss,”

“Come on, baby. I’m right there with you.”

He pushed harder, faster, until you shattered around him. Clawing your nails onto his back only encouraged the relentless pressure. Desperate, you used the only weapon you had.

“Cum for me, Daddy.”

His body tensed, eyes daring you to do better.

Your lips shook, but you gave it to him. “Use me Elijah.”

That name destroyed him. His composure gone, his patience splintered. He buried himself deep, gasping, spilling until there was nothing left. You only ever used his real name when you needed to. And it ruined him every time.

Even as the biggest brat alive, you knew your man. You knew when to break him. You knew just when he needed that break and what it’d take for him to fold you up just like this.

“Be back.” He grumbled, already reaching for towels and water. He cleaned you up with steady hands, biting his lip at the sight of your wrecked body.

“Smoke.” You eyed him warily. Body immediately reacting to the hunger in his eyes.

His head dipped. “Just wanna give you a kiss.”

And yet, the towels lay discarded again as he opened your legs wide, lips already trailing back down.

So much for sleeping.

[eternalglitter]

ELIAS STACK MOORE

[eternalglitter]

♫ Have Ya Babies | Smoke Moore

(4) ..I just love to hear you say it

It makes a man feel good, baby..

Aspen was quiet this week. Joseph was on her mind lately and the rainy weather didn’t make her feel any better. She laid in bed longer than usual but she still decided to get up. Wasting time felt worse than grieving sometimes, especially when the fear of failing was greater than death in Aspen’s eyes.

Sighing — then moving very slowly from the bed, Aspen peeled away from the comforting sensation and headed to the bathroom.

The steam eased her muscles. She hadn’t felt the tension from her workout until she stood underneath the shower stream. With her eyes closed, Aspen worked the shampoo through her hair strands.

She washed her hair slowly, scrubbing her scalp rougher than necessary, swallowing the memories one rinse at a time. Flashbacks of Joseph’s hair bouncing as he ran flooded Aspen’s memory.

Maybe if she noticed sooner, been a little smarter, she could’ve held Joseph.

Maybe if she—

Aspen breathed. This was the opposite of what she learned in her courses. This was personal. Internal.

This wasn’t going to bring Joseph back to life. As much it hurts her to admit, Joseph is gone and she’ll never see him again. But she does see him.

She saw him the night that she came home from her date with Smoke.

His body hovered over the Illmatic vinyl, now hung above her record player. She imagined that he still wore his hair curly and unkept. It was his own brand of chaos. Getting Joseph to get his haircut was like trying to defuse a bomb wearing itching powder. Impossible.

Aspen smiled at the distant memory. Grief was such a weird sensation. Going weeks, sometimes months unchanged then being completely entangled with their memory.

Joseph was still here though. In her heart. In her studies. She rinsed the shampoo from her strands then cleaned her body. Cleaned the guilt that tried to stick onto her wet skin.

She sat in her robe for a little while. Miles, her grey tabby, sat at the end of her bed. That was the best thing about him. He was loving but always gave her reasonable distance. Aspen liked that.

_________________________________

“Miami.” Smoke repeated in an indifferent tone. He couldn’t describe what he was feeling. Discontent? Disgust? Either way Smoke was disinterested in being in Miami — especially not without his extroverted brother.

“It’s for the kids, Smoke.” Stack reasoned. “I’d go if I could. You know that.”

“I know.” Smoke sighed. Stack wouldn’t miss an opportunity to get to Miami, especially not a newly single Stack.

A thought crossed Smoke’s mind. It would’ve been a definite no if Smoke was in any other frame of mind, but he was sober and was feeling something.

He’d be back tonight, he thought. In the morning at the absolute latest. So Smoke sat in silence for a while and allowed his mind to wander. Spontaneity couldn’t be that bad.

It sat on his mind for seven long minutes before he used his fingers to dial her number, the number he had to earn even after their first date, and called her.

He didn’t know what he’d say but he was sure of himself. It was either yes or no. No need to complicate the outcome. Although something in him deep down did want an answer that definitely wasn’t “no.”

“Hello?” Her voice was light as she answered. Not as dainty as it had been before but still soft. Smoke paused.

“Hey.”

“What’s up? You calling for donuts and coffee.” Her voice was throwing out jokes, but Smoke still felt something different in the midst of her laugh. It reminded him of someone he knew very well.

Still he chuckled. “You busy t’night?”

“Not today. You already miss me?” Aspen swirled one of her wet curls around her finger.

Smoke breathed. Possibly.

“You wanna do an errand with me? Get your feet wet?” He reached for the metal tin of pre-rolls as he waited for her reply. He wouldn’t admit it but he did care about the outcome of this phone call.

“What type of errand?” Aspen asked becoming suddenly suspicious. What came with going on errands?

“I gotta do a little work. After that I take you out and you wear something real pretty.”

Although Aspen couldn’t see him she imagined just how he looked when stretched out the word “real.” She thought about his smile. Not something she got to see often but when she did she couldn’t ignore how her legs wobbled.

“How pretty?” Now standing up to rinse the deep conditioner out of her hair Aspen’s heartbeat quickened.

“Surprise me.”

_________________________________

Aspen didn’t expect to feel anything when the plane touched down — but her chest fluttered, just a little.

Not from the flight. Not from the turbulence.

From Him.

Smoke hadn’t said much the entire flight, but his presence was grounding. Like a hand on her lower back guiding her through a crowd of people. Secure.

She sat in bed for half an hour after Smoke’s call, debating the consequences under her hairdryer. An errand was quite vague and upon further questioning, Smoke finally admitted.

“I’m flying to Miami. Want to take you with me, get you on the beach. Relax a little bit.”

Her heart danced at that. He didn’t seem like the type to say what he didn’t mean. So here she was in a private jet with Smoke Moore, and again no one else knew about it.

She looked out the window as they rolled onto the tarmac. A thick fog clung to the glass. The Miami night air was humid and heavy, already fogging her skin before they even made it outside.

He looked over at her once the plane began to slow. Dark sweats matching his shirt. And that shirt. Aspen thought that it complemented every muscle on that man’s body. And the sweats just—

“Ya good?”

Southern as ever. Low. A private kind of concern. Aspen’s skin warmed.

Aspen nodded. “It’s hot here.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He chuckled slowly. As crazy as she thought it was, something in her understood that he wasn’t talking just about the weather.

You’ll get used to it. Used to what?

_________________________________

Inside of the hotel Aspen admired the large glass elevators, long marble hallways, and soft jazz humming through the lobby. A room key was already waiting at the desk. Two, actually.

Smoke held out both.

“You want your own room?” he asked.

No smirk. No undertone. Serious. Just cautious to keep her comfortable. She looked at him. Then the keys. Then back to him.

“How about I decide after dinner?”

Smoke gave a single nod. He liked that. He’d be satisfied either way. After placing both keys in his pocket Smoke led the way to one of the rooms.

“I wanna stop by the event first then it’s me and you.” Aspen nodded, barely looking at him or the way his joggers fell low as he carried her bag towards the chair she was sitting on.

_________________________________

♫ Now Playing: Lost Without U - Robin Thicke

The Miami skyline lit up behind them like a scene from a movie. Aspen sat at a rooftop table, wind brushing the back of her neck.

Her plane attire was long gone now, traded for a black silk dress with thin straps and a slit too dangerous to be unintentional.

Smoke hadn’t looked at anyone else since she stepped out of the hotel elevator. Aspen’s red lips infatuated his attention far more than anything else going on in front of them.

“You been out here before?” he asked, sipping dark liquor over ice. Aspen’s thoughts hovered over how the drink would change his behavior. She had heard about the stories, mostly from Adrienne.

“No. I never had a reason to.” She answered truthfully.

“And now?”

“I didn’t mind spending the day with you.”

That stopped him. Just for a second.

She didn’t take it back. Let the words fill in the space between them.

“Can I ask you something?” Aspen felt silly for even asking but needed the disclaimer before she started talking.

Smoke nodded his head towards her, patiently waiting for whatever she could ask.

“You always so intense when you’re working?” Aspen watch Smoke as he ordered his employees around the venue.

Smoke eyed her while she rubbed her lips together, melting the cherry color on her lips together.

“You always watching?” Humored with her flustered attempt to answer, Smoke finished the rest of his drink.

Aspen thought back to the word he’d said before.

“You said you brought me here for my leadership. So lead, or watch me do it.”

Aspen hadn’t meant to react. But her body betrayed her. Heat surged like a second heartbeat — behind her knees, in her stomach, between her thighs.

“I’m mostly nice.”

_________________________________

They didn’t go back right away. Smoke took her along the water instead. To walk around and feel the city breathing around them, heat rising off the pavement.

“Tell me something about you I don’t know,” Aspen said, her feet dragging lightly in the sand.

Smoke slightly adjusted his shirt. The humidity was making him itch.

“I was supposed to be a preacher,” he said after a pause.

Aspen blinked. “Stop.”

“I’m serious.”

“How do you know? Your parents mention it?”

Smoke chuckled. “Ma tried. Pops too. That’s how I ended up learning scripture before I could ride a bike.”

“So what happened? Why music instead?”

“They tried to beat the prophet into me.” Smoke answered after a while. “The Lord never left me, but the need to be ‘round that did.”

Aspen walked in silence beside him for a few seconds.

“That’s a lot Smoke.”

“It’s true.”

_________________________________

Back in the elevator, the air was tighter. Smoke stood next to her, close enough for her perfume to remind him of the car ride. Of the record store. Of her skin in yellow.

“You still want your own room?” he asked again. Slower this time.

Aspen looked up at him. His eyes held hers like they weren’t afraid of what she might say.

“No,” she said.

He didn’t move at first. Not immediately. He let her take her shoes off. Let her wander near the balcony. Let her stand in silence with the city behind her.

When he did walk over, he didn’t grab her. Just stood behind her, quiet. Observant.

“You sure?” Smoke asked, his voice lower now, like he didn’t want to break the moment.

Aspen turned to face him. She looked up at him — not with fear. Not with uncertainty.

With knowing.

“You think I’d be here if I wasn’t?”

That was the only answer that he needed.

Aspen stood quietly at the window, arms folded, phone long dead and forgotten on the nightstand. For once, she didn’t care. She wasn’t planning. Wasn’t sorting through tomorrow’s tasks. Wasn’t checking emails. The world could keep spinning without her for a night.

It felt unreal. One minute she was curled in her bed with Miles, wrapped in her routine. The next, she was here — in a Miami hotel room, lights low, music distant, and Smoke Moore behind her.

But it didn’t feel like what she’d imagined.

There was only one bed — a king — and he hadn’t so much as brushed past her. No hovering, no unnecessary contact. Just the same calm presence she’d met that first day. Somehow, that made it more dangerous. That restraint. That ease. Like he wasn’t trying to win something, only witness it.

She took her time in the shower. Washed slow, let the heat do what it needed to. Tried to let go of the hesitation that clung to her skin more stubbornly than the Miami humidity. When she stepped out and dressed, it wasn’t with seduction in mind. Just comfort.

A soft, matching pajama set — loose-fitting shorts and a ribbed tank — modest by most standards, but she knew how she looked. She knew what complemented her thighs, knew how her collarbone sat above the neckline. It wasn’t sexy. But it was enough. Enough for her to feel a little exposed and for Smoke to notice, if he chose to look.

And he did.

Smoke sat back against the headboard, eyes closed, arms relaxed behind his head, the faint scent of something herbal still clinging to the air. His phone was on the dresser, forgotten just like hers. He hadn’t said much when she stepped out — just opened his eyes, looked once, and offered the quiet of the room like it was a shared language.

“You tired?” Smoke asked finally, voice low.

“Not really,” Aspen said, pulling her legs under her. She didn’t face him yet, just stared at the TV screen that wasn’t even on.

“Cold?”

She hesitated. Then nodded. The AC had been relentless. The kind of chill that needed to match the heat outside.

Smoke didn’t say anything. He just shifted, arm reaching slowly behind her — not quite an invitation, more a quiet offering. A soft, solid warmth beneath her neck. Aspen’s breath caught. Her brain tried to reason through it first, but her body had already moved. Into him. Into the space he’d created.

She tucked into his side cautiously, shoulder against his chest, cheek against the inside of his arm. She expected him to shift, to reposition, to adjust. He didn’t.

So they stayed like that. Distant, but not distant. Close enough to feel the tension begin to build like low tide pulling in.

When she looked up, Smoke was already watching her.

“What?” she murmured. “Everything’s—”

“You worry a lot,” he said, cutting her off gently.

It took her a second to absorb it. No one had ever pointed it out like that. Not with observation instead of judgment. He hadn’t accused. He’d seen.

“Not a bad thing though,” he continued. “To care.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Mhm.” That sound again, like he knew something she didn’t need to know yet.

Her voice dropped. “Caring too much for you Smoke?”

She couldn’t look at him as she asked it. The words tasted like too much. But Smoke didn’t blink.

“Never said it was.” His eyes followed her avoidance. “Especially coming from someone like you.”

There was something electric in the air now — like the charge before a summer storm. Aspen felt her face being guided gently back toward him, his hand under her jaw, light as breath. She let him. Let herself be seen fully, the way he liked to look at her — straight, honest, soft.

She didn’t look at him with desperation. It was curiosity, not dependence. That’s what Smoke liked. That he didn’t have to fix her. Didn’t have to carry her. She came whole — the way most people didn’t.

He could just be here.

Smoke didn’t say anything else. Just leaned in and kissed her.

It started careful. He was still testing, still waiting. His lips were warm, deliberate. She followed his pace, a little eager, a little unsure. But then he slowed down even more — licking at the seam of her lips, coaxing something forward.

And that’s when he heard it.

A soft, breathless mew — involuntary and sweet.

Smoke smiled against her mouth. He kissed down her cheek, along the line of her jaw, and stopped beneath her ear. His voice was teasing now, but not cruel.

“You make that noise again,” he murmured near her ear, voice gravel-soft, “I’m not gonna be able to stop where we at.”

Aspen’s stomach dipped. It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t a push. It was a promise made in patience. That if she asked for more, he’d give it — carefully. Completely. But only if she asked.

She pulled back just slightly, their noses brushing.

“Who said I wanted you to stop?” she whispered.

He pulled away just enough to look at her. His eyes were half-lidded, lazy with want — but patient. Always patient.

“Not tonight,” he said. “Tonight, I just wanna hold you. That alright?”

Aspen nodded. “Yeah. That’s alright.”

She shifted into him fully now, pressing her head beneath his chin, arm draped over his stomach. Smoke adjusted too, one arm around her shoulders, the other under the blanket. Nothing rushed. Nothing frantic. Just warmth.

“This don’t feel like how it’s supposed to,” she murmured after a while.

“That a bad thing?”

“No,” she whispered. “I was scared you’d expect more.”

“I told you what I wanted,” Smoke said, already sounding like sleep. “Day with you. That’s it.”

That was it.

She closed her eyes. Let herself settle into the space between what was expected and what actually was.

And that night, they both slept — not perfectly, not deeply, but held. In the quiet. In the trust.

_________________________________

@thefutureemmywinner

@coldeforprez

@rolemodelshit

[eternalglitter]

♫ Have Ya Babies - Smoke Moore

(3) Why has it been so long? Why has it been so long? Why has it been so long? Why has it been so long? Why has it been so long? Why has it been so long?

Aspen was adamant about wearing the color yellow. Ever since she agreed to go out with Smoke, the color of the sun was calling her name. Adrienne was also, quite literally, calling her name.

“So you’re ready to be back out there?” Adrienne asked sincerely. Aspen didn’t do casual. She didn’t like unpredictability. Everything about the Moore lifestyle screamed both. Even if Adrienne had no clue just who Aspen was easing towards.

“Yeah. I’m just agreeing to lunch.” She rushed out. She was grateful that they were talking traditionally rather than FaceTime, otherwise Adrienne would’ve clocked her hesitation.

“Okay.” Adrienne got quiet for a moment. “And I can’t see him again because of what?” She quizzed.

She wasn’t obsessed with Aspen’s love life, but if someone was taking her out, she deserved to know who — in case something went left.

“Adri.” Aspen sighed. “I’ll be fine. Promise. My location will be on.” She reassured.

A few more true crime stories later and Adrienne finally let it go.

“Just be safe.”

Aspen hung up, grateful. Her best friend, always full of concern, meant well but she was eager to pursue this independently.

The yellow dress matched the version of herself she wanted Smoke to see — confident, elegant, not trying too hard. It dipped low enough to draw the eye and stopped just short enough to let the imagination do its job. Appropriately dressed for lunch. A museum, maybe. Or anything else Smoke Moore might pull from his sleeve.

_________________________________

Stack eyed his brother in gentle curiosity. One thing missed about identical twins? They mirrored each other. Stack felt Smoke’s feelings and he wore them on his own face.

This time though, Stack was confused.

Smoke was expectantly blank all the time, but in times of celebration, worship, and praise he was a bit loose. Unguarded.

Stack felt that his brother looked off.

The lawsuit was dropped and they had the exclusive performer for the VS Fashion Show, two things that Smoke had been striving for. Smoke was quiet even for himself.

“You got better places to be?” Stack teased. Half jokingly, half concerned. Smoke never talked about his feelings. Not to Elias. Not to anyone.

In the past when his feelings were hurt he would just go mute. He’d toss his old trainers on and run for miles. Away from daddy. Away from responsibility.

“Elijah I done told you about being so hard on those shoes.” Disappointment in his eyes. “How you gone be a big brother and you doing the same stupid shit.”

“Yes sir.” Elijah replied, his head lowered in defeat.

He told Elias that they shouldn’t run in them but Elias was the only one who pushed his buttons.

“What you scared of? A challenge? Slow poke. Slow poke!” Elias taunted throwing little pebbles at his brother.

“Quit it.”

“Na slow poke. Slow poke smoke’s what we gone start calling you. Slow poke too scared of smoke.” Elias taunted repeatedly until Elijah planted his feet on ground and left Elias in a dusty, smoke-like, cloud.

“Man quit I wasn’t ready!”

The was the first time that Elijah clung to the name Smoke. The beginning of his resentment towards his father and guiltily — towards his brother.

“I’m satisfied Stack.” Smoke huffed out, still sounding grumpy, but aware of his brother’s observation.

Something was throwing him off. Was taking a woman out for lunch so foreign for him? That couldn’t be what broke his normal, blank expression. Not this early.

“You should be! Now I called Metro and they-“

“I got plans tonight.” Smoke cut him off. Smoke had no business being near Stack and Metro at the same time. Especially not today.

“Sammie said you’d say no anyway.” Stack sucked his teeth. “No fun.”

“Ay don’t be poisoning my cousin man.” Smoke looked up. Staring Elias in his eyes made his stomach churn sometimes.

“Whatever.” Stack’s eyes lowered. “What you doing that you so busy tonight?”

“Bye Stack.”

Stack sucked his teeth again. “Don’t go fatherin’ no kid and pin it on me!” Stack called out as he walked away.

That would definitely go the other way around if that ever happened. Luckily they didn’t have the same taste.

_________________________________

Smoke sat in her driveway in silence. He’d been there for a few minutes before he texted her. He scoped out the block. Made note of her car, cute. Texted her once his car was in park.

I’m here. Take ya time.

In no rush to speed up this evening, Smoke quietly sparked one up. Just a drag. Just to ease his mind. This was the first date in a while, his first of the year.

Aspen did her time. Enthralled by her own presence she hadn’t heard Smoke’s message come through. It was only five minutes though.

She sprayed a little bit of her favorite perfume, kissed her cat goodbye, and made her way downstairs to see Smoke.

To see Smoke.

That felt unreal. Smoke Moore was in her driveway. And only the two of them knew it.

How long could that last?

Smoke ashed the blunt as soon as Aspen’s front door opened. Got out of his own seat and walked around the passenger side to open her door.

His eyes swept over her like a slow draw. Yellow dress. Yellow heels. Yellow might be his favorite color.

“Ya look beautiful.” Smoke admitted once she was in earshot.

“Thank you.” Aspen smiled shyly. The warmth in his voice did more to her than the heat outside.

Smoke looked good too. Fitted white tee, tailored black bottoms, and a scent that made her thighs tense. He smelt like a man who needed to be taken care of. Handled carefully on hands and kn-

Aspen blinked away the haze. That was not where she wanted her mind. A man like Smoke had accessible sex. Would he really go through all of this if it was just for sex?

“Smells nice in here.” Aspen revealed, eager to break the tension. She felt like she could hear her own heartbeat.

“You smell nice. Look real nice too.” He complemented again. From the corner of his eye he could still see her eyes blink away what she was desperately trying to hide.

“You always this kind?” Aspen laughed, deflecting away from the fact that Smoke was sizing her.

“Only when I see a lady in a sundress.” He smirked as they approached the red light.

“Guess I should wear one more often then,” she said, biting back a grin.

“Absolutely.”

“So where we going?” Aspen asked. He said that he was taking her out but never specified where.

“I know a good spot. Good people.”

“I love good food.”

And Smoke knew how to use a highlight to make a decision.

He knew this could be trouble — but trouble rarely smelled this sweet.

_________________________________

♫ Now playing: Come Thru - Drake

“You still in school?” Smoke asked. He was trying to keep up with the titles being released from her mouth.

“One more semester to go.” Aspen smiled.

“Ya scared?” He asked genuinely. “For the weight of carrying other people’s burden?”

“You know what it feels like?”

It got quiet. Not awkward — just full.

The waitress appeared just in time, refilling their glasses before either of them had a chance to respond.

“On the house. Mr. Moore’s a good man.” The girl admitted looking admiringly at Smoke.

“So I hear.” Aspen’s eyes never left Smoke’s.

“Don’t flatter me Lis’.”

“Somebody has to. You sure won’t do it yourself!” She laughed walking away with the wine bottle.

“You don’t celebrate your wins?” Aspen asked once she walked away.

“Pay that no mind.”

“Mhmm that says no.” Aspen raised. “How come you not celebrating right now.”

Aspen heard about the lawsuit being dismissed. Some of her friends reposted the announcement on their pages. The lawsuit was effecting their efforts to headline Coachella, something every artist eventually wanted to do.

“I’m exactly where I want to be.”

“Here’s to you Smoke. One of many accolades acknowledged.” Aspen smiled clinking her glass with an uncertain Smoke.

“Come on. Clink my glass or I’m calling the kid back out here.” She joked. Smoke sighed but he complied, lifting his glass to touch hers.

_________________________________

They stayed longer than expected. The plates were cleared, but neither of them made a move. Just two half-full glasses of wine, and a low instrumental playing in the background.

“I ain’t ready to drop you off yet.” Smoke admitted after enough silence had passed.

“I don’t have a curfew.” Rolling off her tongue with clear approval. She was having a better time than anticipated. This might’ve been the first time she felt seen as a grown woman and not just something pretty.

Smoke was a listener. He answered questions but rarely offered information unless asked. He listened to her words, imagined some of the places she’d been, and made mental notes of her interest.

Something about needing a pilates studio? He’ll figure that out later.

Smoke held the door open for her once they left the restaurant. Lunch was amazing and the owners had been good people just as Smoke said.

They didn’t drive far. Just a few blocks down. The sun had started to drop low enough to give everything that golden glaze. The light bounced off Aspen’s skin, almost if the sun was complementing her outfit.

Smoke slowed as they passed a faded blue storefront, easy to miss if you’re speeding. The windows were a bit worn, painted with various album covers.

“Thought that looked like a record shop,” he mumbled.

Aspen blinked. Then again.

“Wait.” Her voice high. “That’s— Jesus. That’s still open?”

“You been here?” Smoke eyed. He could hardly see the store being active based on the appearance alone.

“My brother and I used to come here all the time.” It rolled off her tongue so easily. She hadn’t meant to say the thoughts aloud. Not before she could dress it up.

“They had this back section just for underground hip-hop. He used to spend hours back there, trying his best to win Nas tickets.”

“Ya brother spit?” Smoke asked as he parked. Aspen couldn’t help but to watch as he turned his head to reverse into an empty parking spot. What a side profile.

Aspen didn’t answer right away. She just looked at the building like it would answer for her. Like it could wrap her in a tight hug and pull her back in time.

“No,” she said once Smoke looked over. “He just really loved music.”

Once they stepped inside a soft bell greeted them. Followed by the familiar crackle of something spinning from the back ��� Marvin Gaye filled the room just like did so many years ago.

Dust floated in the sunlight like memory particles. Aspen’s heels muffled against the old carpet. She spilt a coke here once on this very same carpet. Moving too fast, laughing too hard, enjoying the moments that she couldn’t get back now.

“Everything’s exactly the same,” she whispered. “Even the smell.”

Smoke watched her. Carefully. The way her fingers ghosted over the shelves. The way her eyes scanned the vinyl like they were searching for something that wasn’t even there. His eyes danced in precision as he walked behind her.

“Your brother,” Smoke started, walking closer to the vinyls that Aspen rummaged through.

“He the only family you mention,” he said. Not accusatory. Just observant. Just using the little knowledge that she revealed.

Aspen stopped. Just for a second. Her back still turned away from him.

“Yeah,” she said. That was it. She didn’t need to say anything else.

Smoke didn’t press. He didn’t need to.

He reached past her gently and picked up a worn copy of Illmatic. The one her finger had been silently brushing over.

“This his favorite?”

“The favorite,” Aspen said with a stiff laugh. “He used to say Nas taught him more than school ever did.”

Smoke studied the cover, flipping it over like it weighed more than it did. He knew this album. Knew some of the people on it too.

“Smart man.”

Aspen looked at him then, eyes just a little too shiny.

“He was.”

Smoke didn’t respond. He wasn’t too good at comforting people. Instead, he paid for the record and handed it to her without a word.

Aspen held it close during the entire car ride home. It was the first time in years she held a piece of Joseph outside of a memory.

The first time she felt physical comfort from something that reminded her of him. The first time that she felt seen in the eyes of grief. Smoke Moore was the one who did that for her.

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