freakhoeofatlantis

[freakhoeofatlantis]

Version 2

[freakhoeofatlantis]

Ohhh what’s gonna happen next 👀

Just Friends (Wunmi x Michael

Summary:Wunmi and Michael confess their feelings to each other

Warning: none, this is fluff with a slight mention of something sexual, but it's literally nothing

An:I didn't proff read this,maybe later I will. I forgot she was British while writing ,so imagine her voice how you like. I don't know when part 2 will be out,but hopefully soon. Play the song below , when the story mentions it. Enjoy!

Michael and Wunmi walked back to their trailers side by side after filming their characters' love scene. Standing in front of Michael’s trailer Wunmi stops and turns to him,”did you mean to grab my hand”,she says ,her voice very soft. Stunned by the question Michael answers saying,”I didn't even know your hand was gonna be there ,I was just going with a feeling”. “Yeah me too”, Wunmi says, stepping back a little towards her trailer.

Before she could make it up the stairs to the door , Michael's voice cuts through the air,” You wanna chill in here a bit ,before we have to start filming again”, his door now pushed halfway open. With hesitation clouding her face she finally nods. Walking up the steps passing him through the door- her ass rubbing against him. Michael clenching his teeth feeling her rub against him, the feeling so familiar. Thinking back to the scene they just filmed;his sweats start to feel tighter.

Now settled on the couch, Wunmi looks up at Michael standing still at the door. With a curious smile grazing her lip she says,” Are you just gonna stand there until they call us back”. Snapping Michael out of his daydreaming; stepping in ,closing the door behind him. Putting his hands in front of him trying to cover up his situation.

Without a beat Wunmi notices; her hand going to cover the smirk that was now on her face.

“You want something to drink”, Michael says still trying to hide his hard on. Wunmi nods her head saying sure. Michael walks over to the couch with Two water bottles in hand

“So what you invited me in here for”, Wunmi asks, grabbing the water of his hand. “I just wanted to see where your head is”. Michael didn't know it but that was a loaded question for Wunmi. She felt like everything was moving fast. From the audition to now, sitting by her co-star and feeling things she shouldn't feel.

Taking a deep breath before talking she answers,"I'm just taking things in, I feel like things are moving faster than I keep up with”. Michael nodded, staring a hole into the side of her face. He sat the water bottle down in front of him, reaching over to grab her hand in his. Grabbing Wunmi's chin , turning her to look into his eyes as he spoke these words. “ You don't have to say this- I'm not this , I'm not that. Wunmi you are fucking everything”.”I'm not sure if you notice, but people admire you. They feel your heart,because you lead with it, your eyes are kind and your spirit is warm,and just for the small time we've been around each other ,I feel safe anytime you're in a room”, Michael says.

Now, looking just staring at Wunmi, hoping she heard his words and believed him. Noticing tears swelling at the corner of eyes, he reaches his hand out , wiping them away before they get to hit her face. “ I didn't say that for you to get emotional, but to tell you that you're seen , for your talent and effort,and a damn good effort it is,” Michael says with a smile on his face. It slowly wipes away as he notices Wunmi still not saying anything,” Are you o-”, Wunmi cuts him off placing her hand at the back of his neck bringing him in for a kiss.

Shocked, Michael pulled back from her hold, before their lips could touch. Bringing Wunmi out of the trance she realized what she did. Shooting out her seat-water bottle long forgotten, sputtering a bunch of apologies making her way to the door. Before she could grab the handle, Michael reached out to her hand. When he grabbed it, the feeling of when they were in that cabin shot through him. Without thinking he turned Wunmi around , his hands cupping her face , slamming his lips on to hers.

Sitting there ,still.

Until, she moved her lips against his. Hands falling from her face to her waist, her hands moving to his shoulders-hands curling in his hair. The longer it goes on the messier it gets. Tongue plunging into each other's mouths. Moans bouncing off the walls of the trailer. Michael felt like he couldn't get enough of her. He wanted to live in her presence. Without a second thought, he grips Wunmi on the back of her thighs, lifting her legs around his waist. Pulling a gasp out of her,” Wait Michael you sure you got me”, She says unsure of his actions. “I always got you”, Michael says, bringing his lips back down to hers.

Tongue going deeper. Michael started making his way to the couch with Wunmi in his arms. Sitting down never stopping what he was doing. Leaving kisses down her neck, her fingers gripping his shoulders, as she slowly grinds her body onto his.

Knock,knock.

A sound hitting the trailer door ,knocking them out their cloud of peace. Barely an inch apart, breathing in each other's air. Michael shouts towards the door asking what they wanted. They answered back saying they were needed for a camera test. With a sigh he shouts back alright. His head now sits in between Wunmi breasts, breathing her in. Her hand now laying a calming presence on the back of his head. “We'll talk about this later, but for now let's act like nothing happened”, Wunmi said, making a move to move off of Michael’s lap. He grabbed her hips, stopping her from moving. “But I don't wanna act like this didn't happen. I wanna explore more , so promise when we get the time we'll sit down,and talk,” Michael said looking up to Wunmi with soft eyes .

He brought up her hand , palm resting against his face. Placing a kiss to his lips, to his jaw ,biting his ear, she whispered,”I promise”. Now getting off his lap, she looked down noticing the way his dick begged to be free from his sweats. “Handle that, quickly”, She said, making her way out his trailer.

With her finally out of the room he felt like he could breathe. Resting his head on the back of the couch he pulled his dick out his sweats. His tip was already covered with white liquid . It didn't take him long to finish ,with the image of her fresh on his mind ,and the smell of her fresh in his nostrils. Imagining what it feels like to cum in her ,while she rode him instead of his hand.

Cleaning himself up ,he made his way to costume. “ Just act like nothing happened”, Michael whispered to himself hoping he could do it.

————————

Walking on to the set of the juke joint ,now in his Smoke outfit. He started looking around for Wunmi, stopping once his eyes met hers.

Wunmi was having a conversation with Ryan about what the camera test consisted of , when the room started feeling different. The energy felt still. Her eyes drifted around the room until she saw him. Michael walked in-in his Smoke fit. That was it , that was the energy she felt. The feeling of him ,as if their souls were connected.

Her eyes stayed locked in on him. Seeing him look around as if he was looking for something,or someone. That's when the feeling hit her like a train. Their eyes met. Feeling a hand on her shoulder snapped her out of it. Now a mess of emotions, she stutters out an apology. Following Ryan to her mark in front of the camera.

Nervous to face Michael after what happened in his trailer . Nonetheless she straightened her back ,as Michael walked in front of her. Noticing how tense she was, he asked if she was alright. “Yeah, just tryna get through the day”,she answers, a sigh following after.

Before Michael was able to say anything, Ryan started giving them directions. They turned to the camera, then to each other. It looked different now , it wasn't Wunmi and Michael-no it was Smoke and Annie. Turning the head but not body, backs now to the camera. Back to back. Now back to their original stance. Ryan told them to turn to each other.

Without even thinking, his hands moved on their own. He started fixing her necklace, stilling her earrings ,twisting them into place, fixing the neckline of her dress.Settling his hands on her shoulder dragging them down her arm.

Wunmi felt overwhelmed by his touch,a small smile grazing her face. She looked down ,and to the side trying to avoid his gaze.

Michael liked that , he wanted her to squirm more.

With a serious smirk on his face,hands behind his back, he took a few steps forward, now chest to chest with her. Wunmi looked up, meeting his eyes. Seeing the smile on her lip , it caused him to break the serious look on his face ,and start smiling as well.

She stepped back now being able to breathe . Having him that close to her was making her lose her mind.

—————————

Wunmi was gathering her stuff together , getting ready to leave. When she heard a knock on her trailer door. Walking over looking through the window she saw Michael standing looking nervous. Opening the door, she looked at him with worry on her face. “ Are you alright?”, she questioned. Michael didn't answer with words , just with a nod. Seeing he wasn't gonna say anything, she motioned him inside.

“I just wanted to check on you and see where your mind is at”, Michael said slowly, carefully with his words. Wunmi answered with a short answer of , “ My mind is in a good place”. Michael turned to her seeing as she finished up packing her things. “I meant about what happened earlier in my trailer”, Michael said, his eyes meeting hers. An abrupt stop in her movements. “I liked it ,but nothing else can happen”, Wunmi said, picking up her stuff ,heading towards her door.

Before she could make it to the door ,Michael reached out and grabbed her arm. “Look, I just wanna talk”. Seeing the harsh glare Wunmi was giving him ,he let go of her arm. Once again pleading his case,”We can get something to eat,and go back to my place and chill”.

————————

Now, here they're sitting on Michael’s couch. Avoiding starting the conversation. “Martin” playing low in the background. Takeout boxes sitting on the table in front of them.

“You dragged me here saying you wanna talk ,but all silent now. I could've been in my bed by now”, Wunmi says , irritation dripping from her voice.

Startled by her sudden outburst, he reached for the remote ,pausing the show. “I just don't know how to approach this , shit I didn't even think you liked me that way”. Michael says. “Just start from when you got feelings for me”, Wunmi says , a now soft tone surrounding her voice.

Michael starts talking ,thinking back to when she auditioned.

“Aight ,I'm about to have them call in Wunmi now, she auditioning for Annie”, Ryan said to Michael who was sitting there looking bored.

Totally zoned out ,Michael just nodded. That's when Wunmi walked in the room. His eyes hooked on to her, then she walked in with confidence following her. His eyes trailed her body like she was his prey. From the way her jeans hugged her thick thighs ,snatched to her waist. White blouse,slightly unbuttoned.

He was so entranced by her ,that he didn't realize Ryan was calling his name. “Bro you good”, Ryan said with concern on his face. “ Yea-yeah,umm yall ready”, Michael said, staring at Wunmi right in her brown eyes. “Whenever y'all are”, Wunmi said with a soft smile never leaving her face.

Getting up , they acted out the 7 pages Ryan gave them. From Ryan's view he would've thought they were Smoke and Annie ,who lost a kid and spent 7 years apart. Michael felt a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. Every time he gazed into her eyes he didn't even feel like he was acting. He felt like a teenager aging, looking at his crush from across the room.

Wunmi finished her last line, a now nervous smile grazing her face. Not wanting to leave her space, Michael kinda just stood there-until Ryan yanked him over. “ So how do you think she did ?”Ryan asked Michael, who was amazed by her talent. “Fantastic”, was all he said. So Ryan walked over giving her the news that she got the part . While he was talking Wunmi looked over his shoulder seeing Michael jumping up and down with two thumbs in the air ,with a big smile on his face.

“Wait, is that how I got the part?”Wunmi said, sitting up ,bringing him out of the memory. Frantically Michael said” no-no that's not why. You might not see it ,but your talent is out of this world. The way you portrayed Annie from just seven pages was the shit. Yeah I also loved how you look, with your hair in a ponytail, and white blouse that showed off your neck. But your talent and our chemistry is what got you the part”. Wunmi just smiles ,leaning forward, setting a couple pecks on his lips. “ I'm shocked you remember what I looked like that day”, she whispered . “ I remember everything about you," Michael said, grabbing one of her hands into his.

“Mmm, you wanna know when I knew I liked you”,she said, twisting the ring on his finger.

Michael nodded, eyes trained on her twisting his ring. “When you told me I was fucking everything”, Michael's head shot up ,looking her in the eyes, saying to continue. “ I always kind of had a feeling, but when you said that”, she paused, taking in a breath. “It just clicked. That was insecurity of mine, still is”, she said looking down at her hands. Michael cupped her face ,bringing her head up , concern on his face ,as he saw tears building up in the corner of her eyes.

“ but you didn't know that ,and somehow still knew what to say”, Wunmi says, a slight smile now on face . Michael didn't think twice , bringing her face to his. Kissing her , tasting her tears. Pouring into the kiss , what he couldn't form with words. Pulling away he says,” I will always be there to tell you that, and I won't stop until you start believing it yourself”.

Wunmi pushed his back onto the couch, straddling him. Pulling him into another kiss. Michael’s hands hugging around her waist. Tugging them close ,until they were chest to chest.

Withdrawing , gasping for air. They sat there staring into each other's eyes. Speaking into the silence Wunmi says,” What do you want for your career, and life”. Arms sitting on his shoulders, running her fingers up and down his neck.

Before answering Michael pulled her closer ,until her head was lying on his shoulder, and he was breathing into her neck. “I'm not sure what I want for my career, I think it's been going down the path I want it to go down”, his words being slightly muffled. “Now my life , I like how it's been going, but I wish to travel more , find love ,get married ,have kids. Maybe even have you right there with me as I do it all”, he said lifting his head from her shoulder.

Wunmi still ,her breath started to get slower. Raising her head to look into his eyes. Trying to see if he was serious.” As a friend or what”, she said, still trying to come to terms with what he said. “ I mean as the person I'd get married to , but if not, I'll always be your friend”.

Laying her head back on his shoulder, she just started talking, “ My career is going good ,but I want it to get bigger , or at least for Hollywood to get better”, Wunmi said , a sigh leaving her mouth.

“ Now for my life, I want to grow closer to my roots, and maybe get married and have kids”, a smile now resting on her face. “Is this marriage and kids happening with me or you got someone else in mind?”Michael said, lifting Wunmi's head off his shoulder. “Take a guess “, Wunmi said before , leaning down and kissing him.

It caught him off guard, but only for a second.

After a few minutes , they finally separated. Trying to catch their breath. “ Not to kill the mood ,but you can't tell anybody about this”, Wunmi said in between breaths. Michael looked at, with a calm glare. Why he questioned? “ I don't want people to get the wrong idea, don't get me wrong I like you ,but I don't want people to doubt my talent by thinking I slept my way to the top. After the movie is done you can tell people”. Michael understood that ,he hates it ,but understands. “ Alright, as long as I can keep kissing you”, he said smiling .

“ That you can do ,but not right now, let's play 21 questions”. Wunmi knew it sounded childish, but what other way to get to know someone.

They tossed questions ,until they got to one that sparked something in Michael’s mind.

“What's your favorite song?,Wunmi said.

“You answer first “, Michael said with a grin on his face. “ I don't know why you got that look on your face ,but my song is “I'm Still in Love with You"by AL Green”.

“OK I see, you got some taste”, Michael said nodding his head. “Well let's see if you have any ,what's yours”, Wunmi said , head tilted to the side. Confusion appeared on her face when she saw Michael get up. Michael grabbed his phone connecting it to his speakers. Wunmi didn't know the song that started playing, but that didn't matter , Michael was gonna sign it to her.

Girl, I know this might seem strange

But let me know if I'm out of order for stepping to you this way

See I've been watching you for a while

And I just gotta let you know that I'm really feeling your style

Wunmi started laughing , as Michael walked over to her. Singing the song as if it was his own. Reaching his hand out to her still singing. Still smiling, she grabbed his hand. He pulled her close to him, pushing her back out spinning her.

Putting his arms around her waist, as he arms rest on his shoulders. He leaned down to her ear whispering “ This aint my favorite song ,but it reminded me of us , I'll wait however long I need to , to tell the world your mine”. Now staring in her eyes ,to show how serious he was.

No other words needed to be said, she pulled his head down into a kiss. That's where they spent the rest of the night ,in each other's arms.

I'm not trying to pressure you

Just can't stop thinking bout you

[freakhoeofatlantis]

𝐁𝐱𝐮𝐧𝐲𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬*𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐌𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬*𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐓𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬(𝐁𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐰)

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬*𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝟐(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬*𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐱𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 ’𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬*𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐒𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐚(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐚(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞)

𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬*𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐱 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞* 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞(𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬*𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐱 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡*𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞*𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫)

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲(𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤)

[freakhoeofatlantis]

“The person you are today, is exactly who you needed as a child…” ~unknown

[freakhoeofatlantis]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

and the lame ass nigga next to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

stack having a son inspo

LAYOUT INSPO: @dollerin

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

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

[freakhoeofatlantis]

Note: cause I finished watching sinners the other day 😮‍💨 I'm overly going for smoke.

STRESS RELIEVER. | MBJ

MBJ! Smoke x Black! Female Reader.

Warnings: MDNI!! this story is 18+ with depictions of but not limited to; sexual content ( oral sex, (f receiving) unprotected sex (u betta wrap it up!) extreme language (cursing, use of n-word,) choking, talking you through it. Not proof read.

Summary: you're a stressed single mom, but Smoke can help you with that.

when i'm taking sips,

from your tasty lips,

the honey fairly drips.

Circa 1947.

Clarksdale, MS.

"Lyle!" You called out for your ten year old son, hands vigorously tossing and scrubbing the fabric of one of his t shirts together in your wooden wash tub. You had sent that boy off thirty minutes ago with your spare wash tub, and he still hadn't made it back yet. The lord said be fruitful, but here you were struggling with your one, not to mention your niece. "Lyle Jr!" You called out again, eyes flickering into the wooded area behind your small home. No Lyle.

You huffed drying your hands on your dress, eyes darting over the vicinity. You spotted one of Lyle's friends, James, holding some goods walking down the road, Edith's son from down the road.

"James, you seen Lyle at that river?" You asked squinting, using your right hand as visor against the sun, looking at the younger boy slow to a stop in front of you. His lips parted and his eyes got shifty, he ain't wanna tell on his buddy. "Boy if you fixin' to lie for 'em don't even, he already in a world of trouble."

James sighed, "I seen him in town at Mr Al's sto' a few minutes ago."

You kissed your teeth, "I figured. Gone get home, boy." You mumbled eyes following the child until he was at the end of the road. You sighed, turning around and pulling the shirt out of the wash tub and wringing it out. Now here you had to go, stopping your washing to go and get that hardheaded child out of town. You planned on being done with this just in time for dinner, but like always Lyle found a way to turn a simple instruction, into complete chaos. But, he was your baby.

Lyle was just like his father—wild, active and barely attentive. Splitting image of him too. He had nearly every trait from him except his nose and that curly hair—both traits straight from you. Those gray eyes, flat lips, and freckles peppered across his nose was nothing other than Lyle Sr. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see that your son was half white, and apparently it didn't take them Klansman long to see it either. They seen you and Lj playing in the yard earlier that day, and wanted to see the nigger lover that got you pregnant. Their words.

He had just come home from the war only an hour before, Lj never got the chance to see his daddy the next morning. They snatched him right out of your house, and two days later your uncle found him dangling from the limb of a tree. You told Lj he died in Japan, that he died a hero.

"Elaine!" You called out toward the cracked front door of your home, where inside Elaine should've been shelling peas. You shuffled over the lawn to your clothes line, grabbing a clip and clipping the wet shirt to the line.

"Yes, auntie?" Elaine peeked her head out of the door, brown eyes looking at you expectantly.

"Do me a favor and get started on dinner, baby. I gotta go get Lj from town," you sighed.

"Yes ma'am," she mumbled heading back inside. You started across the grass, hands shielding the sun from your squinted eyes as you seen the nice Lincoln Continental rounding the dirt road quickly. Ain't no cars that nice ever pass through your side of town, the Klansman ain't even got cars that nice.

You watched, and it was nice, real nice until you seen your boy in the passengers seat, with a complete damn stranger. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes and said a silent prayer to the lord. By the time that nice Lincoln stopped in front of your lawn, your eyes were open and narrowed. You could feel the hesitance from Lyle as he slowly opened the car door.

"Hey mama," he fidgeted nervously with that same boyish smile his father used to do, guilt all in his expression, "I filled yo' wash tub up!" He quickly gestured to the wooden tub sitting half full in the backseat.

The man driving exited the car. Tall, brown, handsome, in a fine Irish suit, and brown leather Johnston's & Murphy. But what the hell was your son doing in the passenger seat? You'd seen this man in your life, and you knew for a fact Lyle hadn't either. A short surge of panic coursed through you.

"Lj, where the hell were you?! I told you to go fill my washtub and I see yo ass roundin' the corner with a complete stranger?" You scolded. "Get my washtub out that backseat and get yo behind up in thar house, before you don't have a behind to sit on later." You gritted, eyes on him as he deflated, slowly pulling the back door open.

"I caught him at Al sto' in town," the man started, southern drawl slow and accent as thick as it could be, leaning on the hood of his car ever so casually, watching Lyle grab the half full washtub from the backseat, "Al caught him stealin' a few things and was fixin' to get rough wit'em—”

Your eyes widened at the mention, as they darted back to your son. "Stealing?! Lj—”

"But I took him, we had a talk about stealin' didn't we?" The man arched a brow at him.

"Yeah, ma," Lyle grunted sitting the wooden tub on the lawn, before reaching to the pocket of his pants and pulling out 80 cents and holding it out you, "Smoke gave me twenty cents a minute to watch his car! And all I had to do, was hold the horn if somebody got close—and then these two men got too close so Smoke came out and—”

"Boy, shut yo mouth and take yo ass in that house like yo mama told you," Smoke cut him off, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket, he took one, and held it between his lips before holding the pack out to you.

Any other time you would've cursed somebody out for talking to your child crazy, but that was the first time since your husband died that Lj just listened. No excuses, no kickback. And you were silently grateful for that. He slowly trudged toward the house.

"No thank you," you replied in response to the offer of the cigarette, your skeptical gaze on the man on your property, "thank you for bringin' my child home, but I can take it from here. My husband'll be home shortly."

Lyle paused at the step, confusion creasing his forehead. "But mama, daddy died in Japan—"

You closed your eyes tightly, clenching your teeth. "Lj, ain't I said get in that house?!" You raised your voice, tone stern and heavy. Your boy. You heard quick shuffling up the stairs and the side of your front door being gently closed.

You heard the flicker of a lighter as you lowered yourself onto a nearby stool, dragging your freshly filled wash tub toward you. The faint smell of cigarette smoke lingered.

"I fought in that same war," Smoke recalled as he took a long drag from his cigarette, "seen some of the worst shit you could ever imagine."

You sighed, stuffing one of your nieces dresses into the tub and started to vigorously clean it. "Yeah, you, my husband and plenty others...” you mumbled eyes glancing up at him quickly with little interest before you focused your attention back on your busied hands. "...thank you for service."

Smoke ain't reply for a moment just observed. The tension in your shoulders, the stoic expression of your face, to the irritation in your tone. You were beyond stressed. "What you doin' tonight?"

Your movements stilled almost immediately. Your eyes slowly trailed up from the brown leather shoes he wore, to the very expensive Irish suit that adorned his body, your nose scrunched in mix of disgust and heavy irritation. "Excuse me?"

A ghost of a smirk fell across his lips, the sun gleaming off the gold caps he had on his teeth. "You look like you need a break, shit. You out here in 90 degree weather scrubbin' shirts and shit like the stains pissed in yo coffee this mornin'."

"Me and my brother Stack got a juke bar openin' up tonight right down the road."

You let out a half hearted laugh and continued scrubbing. "Boy, do it look like I got time for a juke bar? I got two kids up in that house." You mumbled. You couldn't remember the last time you went to a party. Maybe 17? You got married at 19 and had Lyle at 20. As soon as you got married, had a kid, there were no more parties for you. And when your sister passed and you took in Elaine—it got even more serious. All your focus tuned in to giving those kids the very best life, and that's why you left Texas two years ago. They deserved a fresh start.

"I wish yall the best, but I ain't got nobody to watch my kids." You mumbled. "Good luck on yall openin'."

Smoke flicked his cigarette, "damn shame," he muttered, "cause I was show'll hopin' to see more of you."

You quietly kissed your teeth, your movements slightly slowing. You kept your eyes down and lips sealed until that Lincoln pulled off. Who the hell was Smoke?

You hummed softly taking a sip of water from your glass as you looked over at your niece across from you. Spooning over the side of black-eyed peas on her plate.

"Girl," you side-eyed her, taking a bite out of the dinner roll, "you better not be over there' wastin' food."

Elaine's eyes darted over to you immediately, "I'm not auntie, I'm just thinkin'... you never go out and have fun, and I heard that man out there invitin' you to the juke bar, and everybody goin! I heard Mary's mama and Mrs. Edith talkin' about it earlier too."

"I can take care of Lj and me, he won't be no problem." She affirmed.

You thought over it for a moment, your eyes flickering over to Lj who was already shaking head. "I'll be good mama, I swear."

You rolled your eyes sighing heavily over the rim over your glass. "Mm, I'll go. Only for a lil bit though, cause I don't want yall alone for too long." Why'd you raise your kids to be so damn sweet?

You looked around the jukebox bar, already apparently in full action before you and Edith had even arrived. You looked absolutely gorgeous, the many compliments you received from friends and neighbors in passing as soon as you walked in—even the sweet compliments from your kids. You looked almost rich, a red and white plaid halter swing dress, a white shawl over your shoulders, the fanciest red pumps you owned, a single baby's breath flower in your bouncy, brushed out roller set, and a bold red lip to pull it all together. You looked great. But you felt so out of place.

"Girl, this is a lot," you mumbled to your friend quietly as she edged you both closer to the bar, "I feel so out of place—I think I need to go home and check on my kids!" Anxiety started to creep in as you began to turn on your heels but felt the soft pull of Edith's hands in your wrist.

"Girl, relax," she frowned a little, dropping her hand from your wrist and dusted off the skirt of your dress, "the kids are fine and you know that. You need a break, and a drink! You tense all in the shoulders, honey." She waved a hand over your upper body with a look of disdain.

"I am not tense!" You defended. You were.

"You are," she retorted, "and you makin' me nervous! You don't hear Slim singin' up there?" Her light brown eyes followed yours to the stage. You side-eyed her as she proofed her hair and shot you a quick glance. "You reckon he'll notice me tonight?"

You contained your poker face, even though you wanted to display the shock you felt internally. You didn't know much about Slim, other than he was known in the area for playing at a local blues club, and the fact he had a better relationship with alcohol than people it seemed. He didn't seem to be a bad man though. "...I hope so." You mumbled eyes darting all over the floor of people.

"Well," she hummed with a smile, "ima increase my chances by standin' closer to the stage," she gently guided you to an open stool at the bar, "you, need to stay here and get a drink. It's on me!"

You shot her a glare before rolling your eyes and letting off a soft sigh as she squeezed your hand before heading off, disappearing into the sea of bodies on the floor. You looked around the wooden interior what had appeared to be an old ranch, or barn, but the decorations had made it look up to par.

"What can I get you?"

Your eyes averted over to the pretty Chinese woman behind the bar in front of you. Your eyes scanned the shelf for a brief moment. "Y'all got gin?" You asked scrunching your nose at the selection that was presented.

She nodded, turning around to grab a bottle from the counter and a clean glass, pouring a generous amount in before presenting it to you. "That'll be fifty cent."

You went to open the white clutch in your lap to fetch your change.

"Gon' and put that one on the house, Grace," Smoke's voice sounded off behind you, he was close. Grace simply nodded and headed off to tend to another customer.

"Thank you," you mumbled, slowly closing your clutch and keeping your eyes straight ahead, grabbing your glass and taking a sip of tb win

"Thank you," he reiterated to you, slipping into the limited space between you and the other seated patron, slightly leaning on the bar, "for comin. I ain't think you was gon show up."

You glanced at him briefly, his brown irises staring directly at you. You crossed your legs tighter, and averted your eyes elsewhere. You couldn't explain it, but he was staring at you like he was studying you. "Yeah, y'all got a lot of people here. That's good, right?" You responded dodging the last party of his statement, hell, after this drink you were still thinking about bolting. And maybe he knew that.

He finally took his eyes off of you, briefly looking over the over building. "Yeah. Stack handled business on that front." His eyes looked over your seated frame once more. "You look good."

You took another sip of gin. "Thank you," you mumbled softly eyes darting over the interior of the club once again. Looking for any change in conversation, any minor detail you could point out. Anything that could stop this gin from making you cave into whatever temptation this man was dangling over your head.

"This a big place." You chirped out, eyes loping everywhere but him.

"You want me to show you around?"

You blinked. The party was right here. Be damned it was probably nothing but empty storage rooms on that second level. But why not? Edith left you to go source out the opportunity that Slim would notice her, and right now you wasn't feeling much like mingling.

"Can I bring my drank?"

Upstairs was exactly how you pictured it; a mix of empty rooms. Smoke apparently bad vision for all of them. He showed you a spacious room, one that he sought out to be his office, a small one he wanted to make storage, and a moderate sized one for a break room of some sorts.

Inside the fourth and final room you were greeted with a desk of some sorts, a bunch of wooden boxes filled with alcohol, and a glowing jukebox in the corner. The door seemed to fall shut behind you as you followed smoke in, glass still half full with the gin as you took a seat atop the desk.

"Shouldn't that be downstairs?" You half chuckled gesturing to the jukebox he was now fiddling with.

"What you wanna hear?" He asked you, shooting you a half glance as he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a quarter, popping it into the machine.

"You don't hear that music downstairs?" You watched your eyebrow, looking at him over the rim of your glass.

"I ain't asked you none about the music downstairs. I asked what you wanna hear." He reaffirmed, eyes settled on you. Your gaze met his for a moment before you set the glass beside you on the desk, and carefully slid off. You met him at the jukebox, eyes skimming over your limited options, before you settled on Honeysuckle Rose by Fats Waller.

The soft and familiar jazz tune filled the air as you took your seat back at the desk, Smoke staying stationed where he was. Comfortably leaned up against the jukebox. For a second nothing was said, only the smooth low instrumental of the beginning of the song played.

Smoke's eyes lazily trailed over your figure and you could feel his heated glaze, even when you acted as if you were fixated on the wallpaper, or the gin in your glass.

"What you do for work?" He spoke up. And you were grateful for the break in silence, the air in the room felt thick with something you ain't felt in a real long time.

"I make clothes, I sell vegetables from my garden sometimes," you shrugged, "I make do."

"You need a man."

You blinked, before a scoff followed by a half-hearted laugh escaped your mouth. "I don't need no man to help me pay the bills."

"Nah, but you do need a man for all that stress you got." His voice was even, but his stare was heavy. You shifted on the desk, throat dry. But the seat of your panties wasn't.

You were a widowed, single mama, and a woman with respect and morals. How would you look having casual sex with a man you just met earlier in the day? Please.

You shuffled to your feet from the desk and headed toward the door, mumbling a fast and quiet 'I gotta go.' He was quick to meet you before your hand hit that doorknob. Hands placed firmly on your hips, your back pressed all up against that pristine Irish suit he wore. His lips found your neck in feather light, searing kisses. "There you go," he mumbled in between kisses to your heated flesh, "worryin' and stressin'. You ain't got nowhere to be right now, but right here lettin' me take care of you."

You sucked your bottom lip in, eyes fluttering closed followed by a heavy inhale. If you had any will at all it'd already escaped with that first kiss. "We don't even know each other," you tried to reason, voice coming out strained and breathy.

"I ain't gotta know you to help you wit' this," his hands gently squeezing your hips through your dress, dragging up until they reached your shoulders, that he gently massaged before running them down your arms, kissing your right shoulder gently, his lips leaving heat behind.

"Besides," he mumbled against the fabric of your shawl, until his lips found the exposed skin of your neck again, he left one soft peck, "we bout to be well acquainted after this."

He proved to at least know your body well. He made good use of that desk, to have you seated there, legs rested against his shoulders and the skirt of your dress hiked over your waist. His eyes made full contact with yours, as he sucked on your swollen clit. His soft hums on your sensitive bud, had your lips parted, breathing uneven and eyes lazy. "Ooh, fuck!" You hummed a soft moan, eyes boring into his as he pulled back before pulling your clit in between his lips in a series of sloppy sucks, a string of your wetness and his spit dripping from his goatee onto the hardwoods flooring beneath you, his knees planted firmly on the ground.

"Just like that, Smoke," you nodded vigorously, still maintaining the lazy eye contact with him until your thighs trembled and your eyes shut involuntarily. Your hands raised in an abrupt attempt to find something to grip onto, in the midst your hand knocking the glass half full with the gin to the hardwood flooring. Smoke seemed undeterred by the glass clobbering to the floor, his tongue tracing big lazy circles around your swollen bud, the soft hums and moans emanating from his throat sending small jolts of vibrations through you. Your breath hitched, eyes lazily opening to give him still watching you. Tongue slipping in and out of you, with a vengeance damn near. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the thrusts of his tongue like he was tryna collect whatever you'd give him.

"Shiiiiit," you slurred through a moan, eyes fluttering closed again voice raspy with need, "I'm finna cum!" You squeaked, thighs squeezing around his head.

"Mmh, mmh," he hummed against your pussy before pushing your thighs apart and pulling back, face messy, his hand slapped your exposed ass cheek, taking a needy moan from you, "wanna feel you cummin' on this dick soon as I slide it in." He mumbled hoarsely, his eyes trained on you lowly while his fingers busied themselves with undoing his belt. Your thighs squeezed close at his lewd words as your eyes connected with the bulge he was pulling from his pants. So pretty—and dicks usually weren't. Veiny, and two toned.

He pushed your thighs apart gently and leaned down, kissing you with you all over his lips. The way he kissed you was soft and hungry, like he wasn't rushing but enjoying. His teeth caught your bottom lip as you moaned, feeling him gently slap the tip of his dick against your throbbing clit, rubbing it all over your sloppy wetness, before carefully pushing into you.

A gasp left your lips as soon as you felt him stretch you open, his girth mixed with your long run of celibacy filled you with a slight sting and feeling slightly uncomfortable, but Smoke didn't give you a minute to react, his lips meeting yours, fingers softly grazing your clit as he eased into you. He pulled back to mumble a throaty, "Fuck," against your lips when he filled you to the hilt. A heavy breath slipped past your lips as your brows furrowed, eyes dropping down to where you two met.

He proved to know you even better then. Slipping in and out of you with slow precision at first. His fingers rubbing slow teasing circles against your clit. Bottom lip between your teeth, eyes fluttered closed as he peppered kisses along your jawline and chin. "You feel so fuckin' good," he mumbled voice raspy and muffled against your jaw. Your voice hadn't caught up to you yet, and your breaths were too quick and erratic, yet, you felt the most relaxed you felt in a long time.

Slow precision turned into deep hard strokes. You coated him in creamy white, one hand wrapped around your neck, the other gripping the front of your dress for leverage to keep working inside of you. His forehead dampened with sweat, pressed against yours as he stared into your lazy brown irises. "Look at that shit," he grunted, pulling back slightly, eyes falling to where you connected, slowing his strokes to show how well you had him covered, "you needed this shit so bad," he affirmed. You mustered enough breath to produce a broken squeal, your eyes shutting closed tight. The only sounds filling the essence of the room was the sound of your skin hastily making contact with his, and the sound of your wetness clashing with him.

"Yea," he mumbled pulling away, hand squeezing tighter around your neck, just enough to barely construct your breathing, "that pussy talkin' to me. Pussy thankin' me baby?" He quizzed, heavy breathing shadowing his question.

"Yessss," you whined out, thighs trembling as you opened your eyes, only for them to roll back a second later. He knew exactly where to hit. It was like he find your spot, and stroked with a vigor. The legs of the desk screeching against the hardwood flooring, made ugly sounds followed by the lewd sounds the both of you produced. "Oh my god," you huffed, a sense of pleasurable urgency in your voice, "I'm bout to cum, baby!" You rushed out, stars blurred your vision and it seemed like your breathing stopped for a moment. The only thing that filled your ears was your sticky wetness, the sound of the desk screeching across the floor, and the violent slams of your body crashing into each other.

It was like you couldn't produce sound even when you came. The way your body stiffened and your legs trembled, how your hands instantly reached to push at his torso and chest as he fucked you through it. Only a loud cry followed after, and even then it seemed as if the stars continued to swim behind your eyelids. You went into a period of overstimulation, where your body couldn't comprehend the pleasure he was giving you, if anything you were completely dazed. Your breathing only returned when he finally slipped out of you. He didn't give you time to catch your breath as he met your lips with his, before trailing them down to your neck. "Ain't you glad you came?"

hope you enjoyed xo 🩷

[freakhoeofatlantis]

Hawt🥵

Art by Ivory_Draws

[freakhoeofatlantis]

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞

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

Summary-After months of silence and distance, Elijah “Smoke” Moore returns home to face the wife he’s been drifting from. With their marriage hanging by a thread, they must decide if love is enough to rebuild what pride nearly destroyed.

A/N-This is only supposed to be for the first part of the song

Even Stack could see that—and he never liked to get in his brother’s business when it came to women, but the way Smoke had been pulling up to the trap, quiet, jaw locked, eyes colder. That said, enough.

They sat in the back of the shop late that night, after everyone else had cleared out. Smoke’s blunt burned low between his fingers, eyes fixed on the concrete floor like the answers might be hiding in the cracks.

Stack leaned back in the chair across from him, sipping a Sprite, watching his older brother fall apart in slow motion.

“You good, E?” he asked finally. Nobody ever called Smoke by his first name—only Stack did when shit got serious.

Smoke blew out a breath, smoke curling around his gold grill. “I been seeing the signs, bro. All of ‘em.”

Stack raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Like her not lookin’ at me the same. Like the way the house feel colder even when the heat on. Like I pull in the driveway and sit in the car ‘cause I don’t even know if I’m welcome in my own crib.”

Stack didn’t say anything right away. He let Smoke talk.

“Took a trip last weekend,” Smoke went on. “Just rode out to the lake. No phone, no straps, just me. Thought I needed air. Thought I needed space.”

“Did it help?”

Smoke looked at him, eyes low, heavy. “Nah. Came back feelin’ even more lost. And she still so fine, man… but it’s like I can’t reach her. Like I’m stuck on the outside of my own life.”

Stack tapped the rim of his cup. “Y’all talk?”

Smoke shook his head. “We tried. turned into a screaming match with her leaving, slamming the door. It's like when the baby came, she got more annoyed with me”, Smoke mumbled, sitting back 

“Damn.”

“Man, I don't think we’ll even make it.” Smoke said, almost to himself. “I don’t know if we can fix it. And if we are, it's not gonna be the same

Stack exhaled. “Far like… It’s already over?”

“Far like… I’m still actin’ like I don’t love her just to protect myself. Far like she cryin’ in the next room and I still don’t go in. Far like she sleepin’ next to me and I ain’t touched her in months.”

He paused. “Far like… I’m here—but I ain’t there.”

Stack leaned forward, serious now. “You want this to work?”

Smoke hesitated for the first time. His throat tightened. “Yeah… but I don’t know how to be no more. Ain’t no blueprint for this. I know how to ride for my niggas. How to get to the bag. But this? Lovin’ somebody when they tired of tryin’? When you tired too?”

Stack nodded. “That ain’t in the streets. That’s heart work.”

Smoke sat back, looking defeated. “With me bein’ wherever I’m at—trappin’, movin’ around—and her bein’ wherever she at mentally? Bro, we takin’ this a little too far. I’m scared we gon’ break something we can’t fix.”

Stack tapped his brother’s chest, right over his heart. “Then go home. Don’t just pull up and sit outside. Go home. Talk to her. Don’t let her feel like she’s fightin’ for y’all alone.”

Smoke looked at the time. It was late. But maybe not too late.

He put the blunt out, grabbed his keys.

“Good lookin’, bro.”

Stack nodded. “You know what to do. Don’t let your pride be louder than your love.”

⸻

That night, Smoke sat in the car outside the house again.

But this time, he turned the engine off, stepped out, and went inside.

Maybe their marriage was too broken to be fixed.

But he’d be damned if he let her walk away without trying to pull them both back.

The house was quiet.

Not peaceful. Just quiet. The kind that comes after too many arguments and not enough apologies. The kind that settles in like dust and grief—subtle, but heavy.

You sat at the dining table in one of his old hoodies, hands wrapped around a mug of tea gone cold. The baby was finally asleep, the monitor blinking faintly on the counter. But sleep wouldn’t come for you. Not when your chest was still tight with things unsaid, and your eyes were still fixed on the front door, waiting for a man you weren’t even sure would come back.

Then—you heard his key.

The door opened slow, almost hesitant, like even he wasn’t sure if he should be there. He stepped in, wearing that same black hoodie, face shadowed, shoulders heavy. He looked around the room like he was stepping into someone else’s life.

Until his eyes landed on you.

“I ain’t come here to argue,” he said quietly.

“Then don’t,” you said back, flat but tired.

He stood there a moment, like he didn’t know what to say next. Then he came further inside, resting his hands on the back of a chair like he needed something to hold him up.

“You were right,” he started. “I been gone. Not just physically. Emotionally too.”

You stayed quiet. He’d said this before. Once. Maybe twice.

But tonight, he sounded different. Raw. Like the words were hurting coming out.

“I thought if I kept the lights on, paid the bills, kept the streets in check—that meant I was takin’ care of y’all. But it ain’t enough, is it?”

“No,” you said simply. “It’s not.”

He nodded. Took that hit on the chin. “I’ve been scared,” he admitted. “Of losin’ you. Of bein’ a bad father. Of showin’ up and not bein’ enough, so I just… stopped showin’ up.”

Your voice cracked. “Do you even understand how lonely it feels to have someone right next to you but still feel abandoned?”

“I do now,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I went out to the lake last weekend. No phone, no music. Just me. Tried to clear my head. And all I could think about was you. The baby. This house. The family we built… and how far away I’ve let it all get.”

You looked at him—tired, but not angry. Not anymore.

Just sad.

“I’ve been doing this by myself, Elijah,” you said, using his name like a weight. “I love you, but love don’t raise a child. Love don’t heal silence. You check in with your crew more than you check in with me.”

He flinched at that. Because it was true.

“I didn’t know how to handle this. How to be what you needed after the baby. How to say I was struggling too,” he said, finally sitting down across from you. “I felt like I was losin’ you and I didn’t have the tools to fight for us.”

“So why are you here now?” you asked, voice small.

“Because I’m done runnin’,” he said. “I’m done lettin’ pride ruin what we still got left.”

You looked at him. Past the chain around his neck, past the tattoos and the stress in his jaw, past all the nights he came home too late or not at all.

He looked like the man you fell in love with.

Worn out. But honest.

“I’m not askin’ you to forget all the shit I messed up. I just want a chance to fix what I still can.”

You swallowed hard. “And what if we can’t go back to the way things were?”

“We don’t have to,” he said. “I’ll take you how you are now. If you’ll take me—mess and all.”

You were quiet for a long moment.

Then, slowly, you reached across the table.

And he took your hand in his, gripping it like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

You didn’t forgive him all at once.

But you let him in.

And tonight, that was enough.

His fingers were rough against yours—warm, trembling slightly, like he didn’t know if you’d pull away. You didn’t. You just held his hand, staring at the lines in his palm like they might tell you if it was safe to believe him again.

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said, thumb brushing the back of your hand. “But I’m askin’ anyway.”

You blinked back the heat behind your eyes. “You don’t need to ask to be a father. You already are one. But to be my partner again? That’s gonna take more than words, Elijah.”

“I know,” he nodded. “That’s why I’m stayin’.”

He said it like a promise.

You studied him. His shoulders weren’t as square as they used to be. He looked tired—like the streets had been chewing him up and spitting him out. But beneath all that wear and weight… was the man who used to kiss your belly before bed. The man who held your hand through contractions. The man who held you when the baby wouldn’t stop crying, and you felt like a failure.

You remembered all of it.

The good hadn’t vanished. It had just been buried under the bad.

You let out a slow breath. “You say you’re stayin’… but that don’t just mean bein’ in the house.”

“I know,” he said again. “It means showin’ up. Every day. Even when it’s hard. Even when I’m tired. Even when I feel like runnin’.”

He paused. “It means you don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

Your throat tightened. You’d been carrying so much by yourself—bottles, diapers, fears, postpartum anxiety nobody warned you about. Nights spent rocking the baby while crying silently so you wouldn’t wake him. And all the while, Smoke was out, lost in a world that didn’t love him back like you did.

“Where’ve you been sleeping?” you asked softly.

Smoke shrugged, eyes dropping. “Couch at Stack’s. Car sometimes.”

You nodded, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“I didn’t change overnight, Eijahl. I just stopped waiting on the version of you who never came back.”

“I’m here now,” he said. “I don’t wanna be a ghost in your life. Or our daughter’s. I want her to see what real love look like. Even if we gotta rebuild it from the ground up.”

You looked at him for a long time, searching for a lie.

But there wasn’t one.

Just your husband. Raw. Worn out. Honest. Finally showing up.

“You can sleep in the guest room,” you whispered.

A beat passed. No joy, no celebration. Just quiet grace.

And for Smoke? That was more than enough.

He stood slowly and leaned down to kiss your forehead—light, reverent. Like he wasn’t sure if he deserved it, but needed it anyway.

You closed your eyes for the first time in weeks without flinching.

And maybe, just maybe, the hard part was over.

The healing would take time.

But it could start tonight.

With the door unlocked.

And him finally walking through it.

[freakhoeofatlantis]

Annie and Smoke | Wunmi and Micheal 😏❤️

[freakhoeofatlantis]

From the hand on the shoulder and sliding down to her waist, to the exposed thigh and where his hand is hooked on her hip, the bounce recoil!!!! Hot damn 😝

[freakhoeofatlantis]

SINNERS (2025) dir. Ryan Coogler

[freakhoeofatlantis]

Imagine girldad!Smoke huffing under his breath and shaking his head in disbelief because his daughter hasn't got an oil change or her tire pressure checked in a 10 months. Like she just rolls up to the house

Papa, all the car emojis is on again.😕

Smoke: 😑... Get me a paper towel and my wallet babygirl....

[freakhoeofatlantis]

Well, well… papa Pedro

PEDRO PASCAL Arriving to the Eddington Photocall at Cannes Film Festival

[freakhoeofatlantis]

Yaaaasss lawd!!!

Um…

When stack pauses briefly before lowering his head to bite Annie on her neck and she runs her hand down his arm?

Ok Michael and Wunmi…lmao

[freakhoeofatlantis]

Love it

[freakhoeofatlantis]