healanette

[healanette]

Do you remember me too? (Sylus x mc reader)

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven

More than gold (Sylus x non-mc reader)

part one part two

Ever, ever after (Sylus x non-mc reader)

I II III

Rendevzous (Sylus x reader)

part one part two (last)

Oneshots

viagra oops my home men who like men wet kiss whiskey and sin

[healanette]

ME WHENEVER I SEE DADBFS!SMOKE:

QUE BACKGROUND MUSIC:

💿 Pull up - summer walker 💿

🎶 backseat - ari lennox ft cozz 🎶

𝖮𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗇

𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀－𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖻𝖿𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗑 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

⚠︎︎ 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌－explicit smut, car sex, unprotected sex, creampie, weed use, fingering, choking (light), rough then tender, praise kink, age gap, daddy kink, possessive behavior, pet names,

𝖠／𝖭－𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗈𝖿 “𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗈,”𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝖻𝖾 out. A𝗅𝗌𝗈, 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌mut, 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾. A𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗈 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿or😉

𝖵𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗈

You swore it was just a pickup.

Quick text from Smoke:

“Pull up. Got some shit for you. Strong. Like me.”

Always so full of himself.

You threw on something quick—black shorts that barely covered anything and a white ribbed tank you weren’t wearing a bra under. Not to impress him. Just because it was hot out. That’s what you told yourself.

It was close to midnight when you pulled into the back lot of the old mechanic shop he ran his business out of. The lot was mostly empty, except for one car tucked in the far corner—a black Dodge Charger Hellcat with dark tint, chrome rims catching the moonlight.

You walked up slow, your slides hitting the pavement softly, heart thudding just a little too fast for a “casual” visit.

Driver’s window slid down.

Smoke looked at you from the shadows, leaning back in the seat like he hadn’t a care in the world. Low eyes, chain resting on his chest, blunt between his fingers.

When you walked up to Smoke’s car, he already had your blunt lit and seat reclined, like he’d been waiting for you all night. And maybe he had. That look in his eyes when you opened the passenger door said it all.

Low. Dark. Hungry.

“‘Bout time,” he muttered. “I was startin’ to think you ain’t want me no more.”

You smirked. “I came for the weed, old man. Not you.”

That gold-tooth grin of his flashed. “Mmhm. That why your nipples pokin’ through your lil’ shirt like that?”

You rolled your eyes—but still tugged the door open and climbed in.

Inside, it smelled like weed and leather, and cologne that cost more than your rent.

He passed you the blunt, and you took a long pull. The hit was smooth, but strong. Your lungs burned, head floating almost immediately.

“Shit,” you coughed, handing it back. “You weren’t lying.”

“‘Course I wasn’t.” He looked you over again, this time slower. “Now lemme see what else you came for.”

you passed him back the blunt. He took a long drag, settled back into the seat, and stared out the windshield.

You told yourself you weren’t gonna let it happen again. Not in the car. Not when you knew he could make you come just by talking.

But then his hand slid onto your thigh.

Not rushed. Just resting there. Warm and heavy like it belonged.

“You gone sit over there and act cute all night?” he murmured.

You turned in your seat, one leg folding up under you as you faced him, the leather creaking slightly under your movement. You reached over, hand sliding slow up his thigh.

“You always talkin’ like you got somethin’ to prove.”

Smoke didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. Just raised an eyebrow.

“I do got somethin’ to prove. And you touchin’ on it.”

You didn’t respond. Just slid your hand over his. Guided it higher. Past your bare thigh, up the curve of your hip, and right beneath the hem of your tiny shorts.

No panties.

You felt him tense, then exhale deep through his nose.

“Lil’ nasty,” he said, voice low. “You came outside like that?”

You turned your head, voice syrup-sweet. “You told me to come quick.”

The second you said it, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss—hard, wet, deep enough to make you dizzy. He kissed like he owned you. Tongue licking into your mouth, hand gripping your ass, pulling you closer until you were straddling him in the front seat.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips. “I missed this pussy.”

You settled on his lap, the denim of his jeans rough against the inside of your thighs. You could feel him—already thick, already hard.

His hand slid between your legs again, fingers teasing you open. He groaned when he felt how wet you already were.

“Damn. She always ready for me, huh?”

He chuckled low in his throat.

Your eyes fluttered shut when his middle finger pushed inside you, slow and thick. He curled it just right, like he knew your body. Like it was muscle memory.

“Keep takin’ that shit,” he said, watching you grind into his hand. “Look at you, fuckin’ yourself on my fingers like a good girl.”

You whimpered, hips rolling faster.

“Shh,” he hushed you. “I got you.”

His voice. His voice made your body obey. Made you fall apart for him in that seat with just his hand buried inside you and his teeth grazing your throat. You clenched around his fingers, back arching as you came fast and hard.

“Mm. Look at you. You was missin’ me.”

You grind your hips against him, slow and deliberate. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

You did.

Your mouth crashed into his, and it wasn’t soft. It was teeth, and heat, and him grabbing your ass with both hands, squeezing so tight you moaned into his mouth. His tongue slid past your lips, deep and messy, while your hips rolled against him.

When he broke the kiss, his voice was rough.

“Climb on, mama. Ride me like you mean it.”

You blinked, dazed. “Right here?”

He grabbed your jaw, made you look at him.

“You come to me damn near naked at midnight, sittin’ on my dick in the back of a dark-ass lot, and you got the nerve to be shy now?”

Your pussy clenched, and he felt it. Smirked. That knowing, cocky grin that made you wanna slap him and let him ruin your life.

“Come on,” he said again. “I wanna watch you while you fuck me.”

You didn’t hesitate this time. You were on your knees, braced one hand on his chest, the other on the seat. You watched as he unzipped his pants, the heavy sound of his belt loosening making your stomach flip.

He pulled your panties to the side, ran two fingers down your slick folds, and groaned.

“Damn, baby… You drippin’. You need it that bad?”

“Smoke—please—”

He didn’t tease.

He pushed inside you in one deep stroke, and your head dropped forward with a loud moan. He was thick, stretching you open so slow it nearly hurt—but you loved it.

“So deep—” you moaned.

“I know. You takin’ it, though. You always do.”

He didn’t move at first. Just sat there, deep inside you, palm on your lower back, watching your pussy pulse around him.

“You feel that?” he whispered. “That’s mine. Every fuckin’ inch.”

“Fuck.” His hands gripped your hips hard. “Pussy still perfect. Grippin’ me like it missed me.”

You tried to respond, but all you could do was ride him. The car rocked with you, windows fogging as your thighs clapped against his. You reached one hand back to brace on his knee, trying to take all of him.

“That’s it, mama,” he groaned. “Take all this dick. You built for it.”

He leaned forward, palm sliding up your back, around your neck, fingers curling lightly at your throat.

“Who’s this pussy belong to?”

“You,” you gasped.

He tugged your head back against his shoulder, slowing his thrusts to grind deep. “Say it again.”

“You, Smoke—fuck, it’s yours—”

That earned you a slap to the ass, then another. You cried out, and he kissed your neck between spanks.

You were shaking. High, cock-drunk, toes curled, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as he reached down and rubbed your clit in rough little circles.

Your body started to tremble.

“There she go,” he cooed. “Go ‘head, make a mess. Cream on this dick.”

“You gone let daddy come in this pretty pussy?”

“Yes—yes, Smoke, please—”

“Beg for it.”

“Please,” you cried. “Please fill me up—I want it—need it—”

He groaned. His pace turned mean, messy, punishing. You came again without warning, clenching around him, and he didn’t last long after that—burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a growl against your shoulder.

The car went still. His forehead pressed to your back. His hand rested heavy on your hip.

The car was silent except for the ticking of the engine and the sound of both of you trying to catch your breath.

Smoke leaned back, hands still on your hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles on your skin.

“…Damn,” he muttered. “That wasn’t what I planned.”

You were still face in his shoulder, giggling softly.

“You always say that.”

He pulled you back gently into his lap, kissed your shoulder. “Only ‘cause you got a way of throwin’ me off.”

“Uh huh.” You shifted, a little whimper leaving your mouth as he slid out of you.

He grabbed a hoodie from the back seat, putting it on you. Then lit another blunt, passed it to you with a look so soft it made your chest ache.

“You hungry?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Good. Let’s go get you fed before I take you to the house and fuck you right.”

@cremeful

@enchanthings

[healanette]

STACKKK😭😭😭😭😭

He thought we were gonna do sumthin... when you know damn well smoke don't play like that.💀💀

The Ol' Switcheroo

your husband wasn't the joking type, but his brother sure was. that was fine, you would teach him that every game didn't need to be brought home.

cw: 18+ (suggestive language), cursing, black reader, second person pov

an: *taps mic* is this thing on?!

The man standing in front of you was not your husband.

He looked like him, sure, from the warm, dark eyes framed by unfairly thick lashes down to the full lips that sat beneath neatly trimmed facial hair.

But you knew better.

Smoke had texted you an hour ago, letting you know he was on the way home. Usually, he’d call you when he was heading in, asking if you needed anything or if you’d cooked, but you hadn’t thought much of it, responding with wishes of safe travels and going on about your business. Now you were wondering if the lack of phone call had been in an effort to keep you from clocking their scheme too soon.

Unfortunately, they had failed.

The differences between Smoke and Stack were less than minimal when it came to their appearance. Early on, you might have confused them once or twice on account of not having met Smoke’s family yet, but you were seasoned now. You could pick your husband out if he were a quintuplet.

Stack stood in front of you with a dour expression, dressed in the suit that Smoke had left home in earlier that morning, coincidentally on his way to meet his brother for a business meeting.

From then to now, you had no clue what they’d been up to beyond Smoke’s texts through the day, but those were often far and few between. Your husband was a man of few words, especially when it pertained to business. You didn’t particularly mind, secure in the fact that you would always be the first person notified if something bad happened.

You refocused your attention on Stack, watching him watch you like he was waiting for you to catch on. How he had convinced your husband to play such a silly game, you had no clue, but whatever. You would play your role.

“Welcome home, handsome,” you said, arms reaching up to twine around Stack’s neck in a textbook loving embrace.

Stack wasn’t so good of an actor that he could conceal the way he startled, arms stuttering as they lifted to wrap around your waist in turn, “Evening, baby. How was your day?”

“Oh, it was fine. Just missed you a lot,” you put on a charming smile, leaning back to look Stack in the eye. One of your hands slid slowly around his neck and down the muscly planes of his chest, “How was yours?”

Stack blinked a couple of times, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was trying not to laugh, “It was alright. Meeting went well and all that.”

“Oh yeah?” You responded, fingers toying with the buttons of his dress shirt, “Well a good job deserves a fittin’ reward, don’t you think?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement in the hall that connected the kitchen, where you and Stack stood, to the garage. Your smile turned coy, full lips twisting wickedly.

Stack cleared his throat, stepping backwards out of your embrace in an attempt to make some distance, but you followed him anyway, the gap between you disappearing as it formed, “Don’t need a gift for doing my job, baby.”

You hummed, hands raising to push him lightly against the edge of the counter, “I didn’t say anything about a gift, handsome.”

The emerging bewilderment on Stack’s face almost made you crack, the laugh bubbling up in chest, but you were too committed to your performance. Silly games, silly prizes, and all that.

“Don’t go gettin’ shy on me now,” you whispered, pressed in close against his chest, “Since when you had a problem with a lil’ kitchen love? You don’t like bending me over the counters no more?”

If you hadn’t been so close, you would’ve missed the choked off whimper that came from Stack’s throat. His eyes darted towards that dark hallway like he was waiting for Smoke to turn the corner and jack him up.

But you knew he wouldn’t.

He was watching, you knew that. You could practically feel his eyes traveling over you from that hallway, gaze as piercing as you knew it to be.

He wanted to see how far you would go. You wanted him to make you stop.

A different game, but just as fun.

Your hands drifted slowly over Stack’s ribcage and down to his waist, nails scraping softly over the fabric. By the time you’d reached his thighs you could feel his heart beat quickening.

“Or maybe,” you whispered, those fingers creeping towards his zipper, “you’re in the mood for something else..”

You let your voice trail off, tone layered with heat and intent, as you began to shift, crouching low until you rested perfectly on your knees. Your eyes met Stack’s from where he stood frozen above you, mouth slack with genuine shock. His gaze shifted from yours to the grip your fingers now had on his zipper and back.

“Is that what it is, baby?” You murmured sweetly, face moving closer until your lips hovered just shy of making damning contact with his pants leg, “Is my mouth a better reward than my—”

Stack jerked suddenly, and you didn’t have to turn to know that Smoke had finally made his entrance. You rose slowly from your spot on the floor, a false look of confusion painted on your face. It was for Stack’s benefit more than yours at this point, and he knew that.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why you actin’ like this?”

“Game’s over, stop fuckin’ around,” Smoke cut in before he could respond, voice gruff.

You glanced back and forth between the two of them, eyes widening dramatically, “Smoke?! Oh my goodness! I thought you were him!”

Smoke’s voice was sharper, “Cut it out.”

You held on to your wide eyed look for a few more seconds before finally allowing your expression to drop, a laugh rumbling in your chest, “Okay, okay. I’m done.”

Stack, brain finally back online, sputtered in amused disbelief, “You knew the whole time? Could’a fooled me, shit!”

You hummed, laughter tapering off, “Might'a been born at night, but not last night, Stack. You think I can’t recognize my own husband?”

“Ah hell,” he grumbled, “You should’a just said somethin’.”

“Maybe,” you agreed, “But now y’all know I ain’t the one for these crazy games, and..”

Your gaze shifted to your husband, ever the quiet observer, “This was much more fun, don’t you think, Elijah?”

Smoke huffed a dry laugh, hand reaching out to ease you closer, “Sure. Why don’t you head on upstairs? Let me walk this fool out and I’ll be up to talk about just how hilarious you are.”

The following silence was heavy, not with tension but heat and you couldn’t help the goosebumps that rose to life on the skin under Smoke’s fingers.

You didn’t bother with a response, smiling sweetly instead and turning instead towards where Smoke was directing you, a brief ‘Have a good night’ tossed Stack’s way as you left the room.

Stack shuffled back the way he’d came, through the dark hallway and out to the garage that was still open. His eyes flitted from the dark glint of his truck’s metal to the cement floor, contemplative.

“What, Stack?” Smoke muttered, standing behind him in the doorway.

“Guess she know’s you better than we thought, huh?” He responded, a weak attempt at humor.

Smoke didn’t respond. Stack hadn't expected him to.

He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, opting to twirl it around his fingers rather than reaching next for a lighter, "You think she really would'a..."

"If I let her," Smoke responded coolly. "'s that what you wanted me to do?"

It was Stack's turn to go quiet, he fingers stilling long enough for the cigarette to slide silently to the floor.

He heard Smoke turn on his heel, muttering, "Drive safe. And close the garage 'fore you leave."

The door closed with finality and Stack released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Silly games, indeed.

[healanette]

With the way Caleb cooks? You’re bound to put on a couple of pounds even with your rigorous work schedule.

You’re grumbling one morning, an early workout session before you go on with your day. The number on the scale is a bit higher than it was last week… it bothered you.

Not because you feared the weight gain but because you couldn’t understand how it was happening.

“What’s up, Pips? You look bummed out.” The pout is still present on your lips as you look over your shoulder. “I’ve gained weight.” And for a split second, you swear Caleb’s eyes light up. “That’s not a bad thing. I’ve been pushing you with weight lifting. It’s probably muscle.”

But you want to scoff, you hadn’t been gaining muscles. No, you’d been gaining fluff. Your belly had gotten a bit softer, your curves a little curvier. You couldn’t tell if you were upset about it or intrigued by your new shape.

“Not true at all. Look!” You poke at your stomach, and Caleb’s mouth waters. "Don't be ridiculous, pips. You look great." It's like reading an open book. Your eyes narrow as you stare at him, the cogs in your brain twisting and turning as you put two and two together.

"Caleb Xia." and the look that flashes across his face confirms your sneaking suspicions. "Have you been over feeding me?" It sounds far harsher than it really is, he simply makes good food and always puts seconds on your plate before you can even utter a word.

He just wants you to be well fed, is that so bad?

"Yes, it is!" Oops, must of said it out loud. "What in the world are you putting in your meals that I'm gaining all this weight despite working out and being a damn hunter!?" And the towering 6'2 man seems to shrink in on himself. "You've got an appetite, Pips! I'm just feeding you until you're full!" Okay, maybe he also likes you being fluffy.

There's just... more to grab. More to hold, more to kiss and bite and love on. More for him to knead, to bury his face into, to get a grip on as he pounds... shit shit shit his cover just got blown and he's daydreaming? "Caleb Xia, answer me!"

He can't, he absolutely can't. So, instead, he stalks forward and buries his face into your neck. "Caleb!" But he's holding you tighter, grabbing the plush of your waist and grounding you to him.

Your anger is melting fast. It feels... good having him hold you like that. Your cheeks are burning as you huff, holding him with a pout. "I'm going to start loading you up on sweets, say goodbye to that six pack. You'll have a dad-bod by the time I'm done."

And Caleb is 100% okay with that.

This isn't like... full on feeder content. I hope it doesn't make anyone uncomfortable. I am just a firm believer that Caleb would be a Chubby girl connoisseur. He loves them thick, plump, stretch marked and jiggly.

[healanette]

Heckkkk yeahhhhh.

Lemme call elijah a good boy for the one time, I wanna see sumthin.

what if…smoke has a submissive side? modern au! edition

warnings: 18+ (MDNI)

smoke was in heaven.

you were on top of him, riding him like the goddess you were. brown skin brushing against brown skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, breasts bouncing against his chest with dark swollen nipples that were a victim to his persistent mouth. the scent of your vanilla perfume mixing with your natural pheromones and your body heat was the cherry on top to heighten his senses of euphoria. 

he wasn’t the type to let you take the reigns often, not because of preference (you loved being taken care of during your deeds) but he just never…asked. never considered it. but him being so stressed out with the new club him and stack bought? you being oh so sweet and patient, rubbing his shoulders and kissing his temples delicately, he could not say no to your glossy pouted lips asking to take care of him.

but now he was mad. mad that he missed out on the warm, gummy walls of your tight pussy clinging onto his cock like a vice while you bounced to your own rhythm in his lap, coaxing every moan and groan out of his kiss swollen lips, gently holding your waist. if he knew how natural it was for you to take control, he would let you have your way with him in any way you wanted, sore dick be damned.

“feelin’ better ?” you murmured sweetly, teasing laced in your tone  as you slowed your movements, hips rolling against his pelvis, drawing out the pleasure. 

all smoke muster out was a chuckle that turned into a partial grunt when you purposely clenched around his length. “hell yeah…goddamn that pussy grippin’ me like she don’t want me to go nowhere..” he groaned, his hands gripping your ass with a firm squeeze making you mewl. 

“i just wanna make you feel good…” you purred against his lips then capturing them, picking up the pace you set before. the sweet muffled sound of his moans, the curve of his dick kissing your g spot and the occasional spanks he cracked onto your ass was pure motivation. 

you broke away from the kiss, peppering kisses along his jaw. “am I makin’ you feel good, ‘lijah?” you cooed into his ear, licking the tip of his lobe before gently biting down on it coaxing a delicious whimper out of him that almost made you cum on the spot. “f-fuck baby..yeah you doin’ so good.”

“that’s my good boy.”

those four words made him come undone, shooting his warm load inside you and burying his face in between your breasts as he sung his praises to you. 

sinners taglist: @cafeluvs @cremeful

if you'd like to be a part of my taglist, sign up here to be the first to see my newest drops! 🫧 (I updated my taglist for the smokestack twins, if you'd like to be tagged in my smokestack drabbles/one shots/series and you are already on my taglist just let me know by commenting or messaging me🙂‍↕️🎀)

[healanette]

The Smoke-Stack twins HC

Smoke who orchestrates. Every movement is slow and intentional. He won’t touch you until you ask right. “That ain’t the way, baby. Try again. Tell me what you need.” | Read Fic HERE

Stack who talks you into bed with his mouth, and keeps talking while he’s inside you. “You like that, baby? Bet you been thinkin’ about this all week. Tell me how good I feel.” | Read Fic HERE

Smoke who'll whisper something filthy in your ear right as you're about to sing — enough to make your knees shake. Later, he’ll make you sing for him in the dark, face pressed to the wall, moaning like it’s your only language. | Read Fic HERE

Stack whose touch is everywhere at once — mouth at your neck, fingers teasing between your thighs, hand on your throat, like he’s trying to overwhelm every sense you got.

Smoke who's hand is over your mouth, his other hand low between your thighs, and his eyes on you the whole time, daring you to lose control.

Stack who lives for the sounds you make. He wants you wild. The louder the better. "Go on, let ‘em hear who you belong to."

Smoke who doesn’t just hold you. He marks you. Hickeys, scratch marks, bite trails. He wants you walking the next day with your thighs trembling and your soul knowing you’re his.

Stack who takes you in the back of the joint, behind the curtain, or in the backseat of a car. Fast, hot, and reckless. He doesn’t always make it to a bed.

Smoke who fantasizes About the First Time: He’s had dreams — blood-hot ones — of taking you on the juke joint piano, dress pulled up, sweat mixing with jazz. He hasn’t done it yet, but it’s coming.

Stack who lies back with that smug-ass grin, glancing down at you. “Damn, girl... you sure you weren’t just frontin’ before? ‘Cause your legs say otherwise.”

[healanette]

Right here waiting

Summary: You and Stack never did things the easy way—on and off, back and forth. But this time, it ends with a surprise neither of you saw coming.

Pairing: Protective! Vulnerable! Stack x In love! reader

WC: 2.3k

Warning: 18+, Smut, Complicated relationship. MDNI

@thefemininerage Order up!🛎️ Catfish dinner, Blooming Onion, Coffee and Coconut pudding. I added an order of Cheese fries, on the house!

You’re finishing cleaning the kitchen and ready to go to bed, all the lights off and two candles lit. There’s two knocks at the door, the knocks echoing through the house. You grab your shotgun and head to the door, slowly— hoping you can figure out who it is. You unlock the door, slowly twisting the knob. The door opens and it’s Stack.

“Elias?” You question.

He grins, gold tooth flashing.

“In the flesh, honey.”

You move out of the way, allowing him to come in and shutting the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?”

He stands there, by the kitchen table—staring at you.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You scoff, propping your shotgun up against the wall.

“Here we go.” You sigh.

“What?” His brow furrows.

“You do this all the time, ever since you got back. Tonight you miss me and then tomorrow you’re a ghost. I don’t have the energy for it anymore, stack.” You confess.

He pulls the toothpick out of his mouth, placing it on the table.

“You know things are complicated between us.”

You raise your brow.

“If by complicated you mean you staying in my bed, fucking me like you can’t get enough, and leaving in the middle of the night—then sure.”

He sucks his teeth, glancing around the room.

You walk over to the sink, rinsing your hands off.

“Stack, it’s late and I’m ready for bed. I can’t do this with you tonight.” You remind him.

He pulls his hat off, holding it and turning your direction.

“I just— I want to lay with you. No sex, just lay with you.”

You wipe your hands, looking at him and it’s all over his face. You know Elias like the back of your hand and can always tell when something is wrong.

“Why?” You ask.

“You really gonna make me say it?”

You stare at him, waiting for his response.

“I need you. You’re the only person I can turn to besides Smoke.” He replies.

You don’t respond, battling yourself internally over what to say.

“You gone make me beg?”

“Fine, you can stay tonight.” You cave, hoping you don’t regret your decision.

He follows you to your room, shutting the door. You change into your nightgown and he undresses, crawling into the bed with you—laying his head on your chest.

You rub his head, not asking any questions— just allowing him to be. You can feel his tears staining your nightgown after a few minutes.

Whatever it was, it must’ve been something that hurt him. Elias isn’t someone that cries easily or at all for that matter.

You stay up long enough to feel him drift asleep and shortly after, you do too.

The sun starts to rise, light peaking through the curtains. You look around and as per usual, Stack is gone. Even though you should be used to it by now, a piece of your heart breaks every time it happens.

You get up, starting your day. No need in wallowing in sadness for something that won’t change. Some part of you doesn’t understand why you allow him to do this to you, but the other part recognizes that you’re still in love with him.

You leave the house to go get some thread and maybe a new pack of needles. The streets were busy and everyone was out this Saturday, more commotion than usual.

You go into a store right beside Bo’s and grab some sewing materials. You walk out and start your walk back home. You’re barely five minutes in before a man approaches you, asking to take you out. You politely decline—not because he’s ugly or anything, you’re just genuinely not interested.

“Bitch, you think you too good for me or something?” He raises his voice.

“Bitch?” You reply, taken back by his jump to aggression over you declining his offer.

He gets closer to you and you take a step back.

“You should be glad somebody wants you, considering you’re nothing but a smokestack whore— sleeping with both of them.”

You scoff, you’re very offended and now pissed.

“You done made that shit up! I ain’t ever done no trifling shit like that.” You snap.

He keeps walking closer to you and you grab your gun out of your purse—pointing at him.

“Now, I told you no—“

“If you don’t want your family gathering this weekend, then I suggest you back the fuck up.” You demand, grabbing attention.

He chuckles.

“Oh, so you think you’re a smart bitch too?”

You nod.

“Yeah, a smart one with bullets that don’t miss—“

“back the fuck up.”

He backs up, seemingly embarrassed by all the people now watching as you point a gun at him.

You start walking away, gun in hand.

You hear two loud gunshots at the same time, followed by the screams of a man. You turn around to see Smoke and Stack with their guns aimed at him.

They walk over to the man, Stack grabbing his face out the dirt— ignoring his screams and pointing to you.

“Now, I hope you remember this moment. Remember our faces and hers, just know we’ll never play about her.” Stack grins.

“She might not shoot you, but we always will.” Stack reminds him.

Smoke hovers over the man, seeing the gunshot wound in both of his legs. Stack stands up, fixing his suit and walking over to smoke.

Smoke shoots him again, in the left leg.

“What you insinuated was just wrong. Don’t you ever say shit like that again.” Smoke demands.

You walk over to them and pay the man no attention, neither does anyone else.

Smoke hugs you.

“You didn’t have to do that. I had it handled.” You remind them.

“You sure did.” Stack says, biting his lip.

You roll your eyes and smoke shoots him a look.

“We can’t have him going around spreading that filthy lie. I’ll do it again, if I hear it.” Smoke chimes in.

You shake your head.

Smoke walks away, going back into Bo’s store and leaving you two alone.

“You definitely ain’t afraid to shoot that thing, are ya?” Smoke eyes your purse.

“Ain’t no use in having one, if you’re afraid to use it.” You acknowledge.

“Thank you for looking out for me.” You say, turning to leave.

Stack grabs your arm.

“Hold on, why are you being short with me?”

“Stack, you left in the middle of the night again! I let you into my bed a few weeks ago, thinking that maybe something would change—but you’re still the same. Always and only worried about Stack.”

You yank your arm away, hoping this doesn’t turn into you crying—but you feel it all coming to the surface.

“Now, I—“

“Stay away from me, Stack.” You interrupt him, walking away.

You walk home—taking the long way, finally reaching your front porch. There’s flowers in a vase, just there with a card. You pick them up, reading the note.

“Love, Elias”

You walk in, setting the flowers on the kitchen table. Trying not to cry anymore tears, it just simply isn’t worth it.

Your relationship with Elias was never truly complicated, it is just him. He sabotages it, almost like he can’t help it. He isn’t a cheater, but he pushes himself away when things are going good. The game is old and stale, maybe you didn’t mind it when you were younger—but you want more now.

You sit at your table, eyeing the flowers. They’re beautiful, full of color and have a lovely scent. The flowers manage to give your mind a smidge of peace away from Stack, away from all of it.

Your stomach starts to turn, making you run to the sink.

Your bend over the sink, throwing up everything you had eaten. This morning sickness is driving you insane.

You’re tired of being sick in the morning and after smelling garlic, or seeing raw meat. Only a few weeks in and you’re ready for it to be over.

You sit back down, cold rag in hand. Now, your mind is on the baby. A baby that was completely an accident— an accident that you welcomed, but would he?

Your relationship is so on and off, that having a baby is a terrible idea— but getting rid of it would be wrong in your eyes.

It’s been a month since you found out. You’ve been sitting with it for too long and now the guilt is starting to get to you.

You invited Elias over, ready to just get it off your chest— it was time.

Stack knocks at the door, you almost hesitate to open it—but you do.

He stands there grinning as always and has some white roses in his hand.

“These are for you.” He grins, handing them to you.

You can’t help but smile, even though you were so nervous about telling him the news.

He walks past you, waiting for you to close the door.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been, how things have been between us. I didn’t mean to hurt you, if I did.”

You set the flowers on the end table, listening to him. Before you can process what he said, stack has his lips on yours. His hands holding your face and kissing you like it was his last chance to.

You don’t stop him, you don’t want him to stop— you can break the news to him later.

You keep kissing him, pulling off his jacket and moving towards the couch. His lips are sweet, juicy and full of remorse.

He kisses your neck, groaning in your ear.

“I missed you, baby.”

You whimper, feeling yourself caving to him once more.

He licks your ear, then down your neck— before his lips are on yours again.

You two stumble to the couch, before you fall on it with him on top of you. You both laugh, but it doesn’t slow you down.

You start unbuttoning his shirt while he places kisses down your chest, his fingers wandering up your dress.

He chuckles feeling that you don’t have any panties on. His hands dance around your thighs, cooze clenching.

He slides his fingers through your folds, your breath hitching in your chest.

He pulls his fingers back and sucks them clean, tasting your slick. His eyes focused on you.

“Open.”

You gladly open your mouth, letting him spit in it.

You bite your lip and start fiddling with his belt buckle.

“You want me?” He asks.

You nod your head.

He stands up pulling his shirt off, tossing it on the couch and unbuckles his pants.

You watch him in awe, wet between the legs and needing him to fuck you.

He glances at you, licking his lips.

“Turn ya ass around.”

You get on your knees, arching your back— his favorite sight.

He comes behind you, one leg on the couch and the other on the floor.

He runs his tip through your folds, making your back raise.

He laughs, lining himself up with your entrance and slowly pushing himself in.

He was stretching you, like he did every time— but this time it had been several weeks and you needed to get used to it again.

You hold your hand out, pressing against his stomach.

“Let me know when you’re ready, baby.” He groans.

You take a few seconds and nod your head once you're ready.

His hands grip your hips, as you he pushes the rest of himself in—bottoming out.

A moan leaves your lips.

He takes his time, giving you long and deep strokes.

You grip the couch.

“Shit.” He groans.

He smacks your ass, loving the way it jiggles.

“Elias, it —“

“Feels so good.” You mumble.

You clench around him, trying to keep yourself from orgasming fast— but what he’s giving you is so good.

“I missed you, baby— all of you.” He confesses, as his thrusts get faster.

“I love you.” He moans.

He’s fucking you so good that you can’t even from a thought or sentence to say it back.

Your moans become intense as you feel yourself unraveling.

Two more thrusts and you’re cumming on his dick, the orgasm feels never ending.

You’re clenched around him so tight.

“Shit, Shit.”

You feel him releasing inside of you, letting out the sexiest moan. He rides out his orgasm with a few more thrusts.

He pulls out, catching his breath.

You adjust yourself, sitting down with your legs crossed— trying to process everything. Stack sits beside you, smiling ear to ear and staring at you.

“You gonna leave tonight?” You ask, changing the mood.

“I don’t intend to, unless you want me to.” He replies, adjusting his pants.

“Elias, we can’t keep doing this.” You sigh, coming down from the sex and feeling defeated.

“I know, it’s just so—“

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt out, interrupting him.

He just stares at you, mouth wide open from trying to finish speaking.

There’s a lingering silence filled with stares, him eyeing you and your belly.

He goes into his pants pocket, pulling out a cigarette.

“Are you gonna say anything?” You ask, heart racing.

“Well, what am I supposed to say?” He replies, lighting the cigarette.

“Anything, Elias. The fuck?”

He takes a long drag, staring back at you.

“You really got my baby in you?”

“Yes.” You nod.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He chuckles, exhaling smoke.

“Elias—“

“This isn’t a joke.” You fret.

“I know, it’s not. I’m having a baby with the woman I love. The woman that I can’t go on without.”

Your panic comes to a stop at those words, words that you weren’t sure you’d hear.

“You’re not mad?” You ask, a single tear running down your face.

He leans over, wiping it.

“I’m far from mad. I figured this would probably happen sooner or later. I want to do things right though, I want to be with you.”

You pull back looking into his eyes and can tell that he’s being honest.

“I love you.” You confess.

“I love you too, always will.” He responds back.

“So, when am I moving in?” He jokes.

You laugh, laying your head on his shoulder.

7 months later, you two welcome twin boys into the world. The happiest day of y’all’s lives.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[healanette]

‘ DOLLY’S GARDEN OF ROSES! ★

“ELIJAH “SMOKE” MOORE.”

• “plug!smoke x nerdy!black!fem!reader.”

• “smoke x reader x stack!”

• “yearning!bestfriend!smoke x spoiled!black!fem!reader.”

• “playground rules - smoke x reader x stack.”

• “criminal!smoke x black!fem!bimbo!dumb-ish!reader.”

• “olderman!smoke x black!fem!stubborn!sassy!reader.”

• “olderman!smoke & reader’s angsty text messages!”

“ELIAS “STACK” MOORE.”

• “smoke x reader x stack!”

• “playground rules - smoke x reader x stack.”

( @cursed-carmine for the dividers.)

“all i wanna, ain’t not other, we together i remember sweet love all long. they say true loves the greatest weapon. to win the war caused by pain. but every diamond has imperfections but my love was too pure to watch it chip away. boy nothing real can be threatened, true love brings salvation back into. me. with every tear came redemption, and my torturer ‘came my remedy. so many people i know just tryna touch ya, kiss up and feel up on ya. kiss up and feel up on ya. all night long.”

-beyoncé.

[healanette]

the little twins — masterlist

— a compilation of stories about sylus as a father of two little boys who love & heal just by being

sorted according to the age the twins are depicted to be in the corresponding story (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

☆༉ = new addition!

hello, lucian & kyros! (snippets from dif. ages)

— an introduction to the boys as Sylus’s little twins. read before or after any story to get to know them a little more ♡

peek-a-boo (12 months)

— sylus puts his evol to good use— social games with his toddlers

home (1.5 years)

— little twin debut! a little look into the difference between the (then unnamed) little twins & their perception of home

birthday snaps (2 years) ☆༉

— the twins turn two and what a happy day it is! big twins almost smothered accidentally

messy spaces (2 years)

— your boys try their hands at keeping papa’s big secret… but what’s a ‘secret’ again?

cat nap (2 years)

lucian and kyros very much take after their father, but despite it all, sylus is still just a dragon among kittens

theory of mind (2 years)

— a test of empathy: you give all your boys marshmallows except for papa. what will they do?

off guard on duty (3 years)

— big twins, kieran & luke, babysit the little twins for a day, and realize they are no longer who they thought they were.

from papa, with love (3 years) ☆༉

— a fight between a treasure, overcoming instincts and exploring kyros & lucian's dragon traits from papa.

maybe a dragon (4 years)

— lucian is very fond heights, scaring sylus of the dangers and implications of it all.

maybe a turtle (4 years)

— kyros thinks papa is always running too fast. sylus longs to be caught.

two birds on a wire (4 years) ☆༉

— two little boys follow their papa on an 'ishun (mission), and send the whole family into a tailspin

fairies, goblins & crows (6 years old) ☆༉

— a class example of how this family deals with milestones— through tricks and treats

more coming soon ♡

extras ☆

littles on: trinkets & treasures

littles on: hats

sylus on: pranks

kyros on: morning observatios

littles on: papa’s missions (post-two birds)

littles on: an itty bitty sister

littles on: least favorite foods

kyros on: little animals

littles on: mephie & sunfire-roar

sylus on: persuasion and puppies

the family on: cuteness aggression ☆༉

dividers by @saradika-graphics ♡

[healanette]

HUSH SERIES - A Sinners’ Fanfiction

Chapter 1 — ♡

Chapter 2 — ♡

Chapter 3 — ♡

The Tag list

@thelifeoflagab @juniooox @tadjoa @shamansha @brownskincheyenne @freelandgoddess @Ib-xci @blaqgirlmagicyallcantstandit @iammyownlover @stormynovashambler @summrsovrinterlude @prettygirl2800 @puffmamaa @harleycativy @jasssdee1 @itstayleigh @queenofklonnie22 @bigjh @tadjoa @Isc72 @forzaferrariii , @blxckberrie @avidreader73 @partylikemajima

A/N : This series sets in the 2000s, I apologize in advance for the short / rarely depicted places, cities, states and environments. Since I live in France, I unfortunately know only what I saw, learned and read about. Therefore I’m reluctant to describe in detail (because I don’t want to miss points !! )

If you want to get tagged for this one, please tell me.

I already wrote down the people who asked me to get tag ! Thank you a lot for you all support. And if you want your name to be remove, just tell me friend !

[healanette]

Summer Romance Masterlist

ModernAU! Elijah “Smoke” Moore x BlackOC! (Cymone) x ModernAU! Elias “Stack” Moore

Mood Board

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Shorts

The Story of Ciara and Purnell

[healanette]

GIRLDAD!SMOKE IS A DREAM COME TRUE~

I ENJOYED EVERY SENTENCE WRITTEN, POOR UNC STACK JUST GOT ROBBED😭😭😭

Girl dad smoke (taking care of wife a daughter)

mini hustler, smoke.

summary: smoke was never one to be picky about what gender child he wanted to raise when the time came, but it seemed that the universe had a plan of its own, and he was made to be a girl dad.

pairings: smoke x blackfem!reader, dad!smoke.

warnings: descriptions of reader, use of the n word, descriptions of pregnancy, established relationship, maybe some ooc smoke?

notes: okay i know this was sent in bc i asked for modernau reqs but i feel like i can write this better for the actual sinners universe smoke... :)))

You let out a hum of contentedness, leaning your head back against your husband's shoulders. His arms were wrapped securely around your waist as you both lounged on the outdoor settee, taking in the Mississippi sunset before you. His hands rested on your growing stomach, thumbs stroking gentle patterns.

You were almost six months along in your pregnancy, and Smoke had been with you every step of the way, as he had promised you when you first announced the news to him.

"You know," you broke the comfortable silence. "I think we're having a boy. He sits so low, 'n all the ladies say that means it's a boy."

"Stop calling my daughter a boy," he mumbled with a kiss to your temple, smiling when you let out a laugh.

"You mind what we have?" you asked.

He shook his head no. "Long as they healthy and grow up to be that 'n happy, I'on really mind."

You smiled at his words, placing your palms on top of his hands.

Life as an expecting mother was going by a lot faster than you imagined. One day you were with your mother picking out materials to make baby clothes from, the next you were sitting back relaxing as Smoke, Stack and Sammie attempted to build a baby crib.

"It don't look right," Smoke frowned. He stood behind you, arms wrapped around your stomach like they always were whenever he was around you lately.

"Man, how else it's supposed to look?" Sammie huffed, and you laughed. They'd been at it since the early morning and it was almost four o'clock now.

"Not like that, nigga. Why it only got three legs?"

"'Cause we're not fuckin' done with it yet, bruh. Chill, goddamn." Stack kissed his teeth, and you took that as your queue to get them something to drink, leaving them to bicker amongst themselves.

Your growing family was everything to you, and your heart warmed at every moment they spent tending to you and your unborn child. That was, when Smoke let them get close to you.

Smoke was already overprotective of you. but you when carrying his unborn child? It's like people needed permission to even breathe near you.

He needed you in his eyesight at all times or he'd start going insane. Never wanted you to do any heavy lifting, or even lift a finger if it was something he could handle.

"Whatchu doin' that for?" he'd scold you when he caught you about to step on a dining room chair to grab a box of your things from the top shelf.

"Elijah, I could've gotten that," you smiled sheepishly when his hand held your waist to place you back down on the ground, picking the box up for you.

"Yeah well, you ain't need to do all that when I'm right here," he kissed your cheek, sitting down on the chair with you in his lap as you opened up the box, revealing things from your childhood.

All this never phased you, if anything, it just solidified the feeling you had that he would make such a great father.

─── ༉‧₊˚✧ ───

"Stack, you drop her an' I swear to God, we gon' fight," Smoke mugged his brother as he played with his daughter, throwing her up into the air and catching her again.

"Man, move. I'm not gonna." Stack kissed his teeth, tickling his niece.

Three years ago, you gave birth to your daughter, Amaya Marie, and ever since, she'd been such a light in your life. Today, everyone was celebrating her birthday at yours and Smoke's house, the bustling sounds of laughter and chatter all around you.

You could hear her giggles as she played around with her Uncle Stack, the only important thing at the moment being that she was happy.

"She's fine, stop worrying," you brought your hands to either side of your husband's face, literally smoothing away his frown as you caressed his skin. He hummed, tearing his eyes away from his daughter to look at you, kissing your lips thrice.

Amaya had changed Smoke's life in ways he didn't even know could be changed. He found himself having a new purpose in life, catering for both you and her. Everything he did was for the both of you, making sure she didn't grow up to know the life of hardship and struggles.

She may have had your eyes and nose, but her personality? Oh boy, that was growing to be all Smoke. He spoiled her, as you often complained, but that didn't stop him from doing it.

Every new dress, new toy, new hair clip had her fawning over her father even more.

"Daddy look!" Amaya came running towards you both, as fast as her little legs could carry her. Smoke pulled away from you to pick her up and your eyes widened as she waved her hand in your face, showing off a crisp $10 bill.

"The hell?" you mumbled, looking at Smoke who just shrugged at you.

"Where'd you get this from, baby?" he asked Amaya, kissing her cheek over and over.

"From Uncle Stack," she managed to say through her giggles as Smoke tickled her.

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing that if it wasn't Smoke giving her money, then it definitely was one of her uncles.

Just like her daddy, Amaya had grown to be quite the negotiator at just three years old.

"Is that right?" Smoke smiled, a little idea forming in his mind. "You wanna get some more?"

Amaya nodded, waving the bill around in her hand. He adjusted her in his arm, his free hand taking a hold of yours, leading you to sit down at the table with the rest of the ladies, Pearline handing you a cool glass of lemonade as you sat down.

"Say bye to mama," Smoke brought her closer to your face, and you smiled when she kissed your cheek, waving goodbye.

"Don't hurt my baby, Elijah," you warned him, taking a sip of the drink in front of you. He waved you off, walking away from you and towards where Stack, Sammie and them were, beers in their hands as they stood around laughing.

The smile on Stack's face grew when he saw two of his favourite people approaching him. "Wassup lil' bit?" He ruffled the top of Amaya's head, messing up her curls.

"Now, you know damn well Y/N gon' get you for doing that," Smoke swatted his brother's hand away, trying to fix his daughter's hair. "Heard you gave lil' miss some money."

"Yeah, she deserves it." Stack smiled.

Smoke nodded, looking down at Amaya you was already looking up at him like he hung the planets and stars in the sky. "Go 'head baby, just like we practiced before," he whispered to her.

Amaya nodded, turning around in her father's arms. "This ain't gonna work, Uncle Stack," she spoke clearly, waving the money in his face now.

Stack paused mid sip, furrowing his brows. "Whatchu mean by that?"

"I mean," Amaya huffed. "This isn't enough."

Stack cut his eyes to his brother, who held a proud smirk on his face as he looked back at him. "Girl, it's $10, that's plenty for you."

"Nuh uh," Amaya shook her head, earning a laugh from Sammie. Who handed off the music to Slim so he could join the conversation.

"Say Stack, you gettin' pressured by a youngin'?" he laughed, dodging when Stack stuck his arm out at him.

"Aight then," he bent down to Amaya's height in his brother's arms. "Name your price."

Amaya thought hard for a moment. "A hundred."

Stack let out a loud laugh, and even Smoke chuckled at that. "Girl, I said name a price, not be delusional. Must get that from your mother," he mumbled the last part, but Smoke heard loud and clear, punching Stack's shoulder. "It was a fucking joke, my God."

"Try a lil' lower baby. Don't lowball though, that's how you get 'em to take you serious," Smoke encouraged her, rubbing her arm soothingly. She nodded, turning back to her uncle.

"40."

"20."

"40."

"25."

"50."

"Aight, I'll give you forty, stop this madness," Stack huffed, opening his wallet as Amaya turned to Smoke.

"I did good?"

"You did great baby," he kissed both her cheeks as Stack handed his niece the money.

"We gotta take her with us one day, almost had me emptying my pockets." Stack watched as she ran over to her mother with all her money, smiling when she looked their way.

"Man, shut up."

taglist. @childishgambinaax @abriefnirvana @blackisy2k @chrisevansmentee @siasoup @amethyst09 @heauxtales @skywalker0809 @thelightknight21 @klssngss @atomicearthquakemusic7 @oc3anbxbyxoxo @honestlyurslol @simpingfor-wakasa @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @favoritten @christinabae @junkie05 @gyattttsblog @jackierose902109 @rose-bliss @jexireads @queenofklonnie22 @tatertooted

[healanette]

ANNIE & SMOKE✨️

WE NEED THAT PREQUEL OF THEM, THANKS;]

Nawl but yall …. Did yall see how smoke turned Annie around !! How he pushed her !? ( I couldn’t find the gif/ reel 😭) And idk if it was my ears only but I thought I heard him say “ turn ya ass around “ lawwwwwddd my stomach tingled !! Cause Annie was vulnerable in that moment probably the most vulnerable we’ve seen her throughout the movie .. & that push was the most dominant we’ve seen smoke be with her .. like girl stop playing with me and take this .. well you know .. then my girl facial expression huh!? The pleasure and the pain , the stretch and the fullness of not being intimate with somebody for seven years bihhh I went 3 wks one time and I was like slow down lol.. & smoke was like “Nawl you got it !! Wheewww .. I been on tik tok looking at edits so don’t mind me yall but yea !! Annie and smoke forever !

[healanette]

This'll be interesting!~

Haven't read a miguel o'hara series in a long time... MUCH ANTICIPATED!!!

MAMMA MIA ✶ MIGUEL O'HARA

pairing. summer fling! miguel o'hara x single mother! reader

tropes. summer romance, lovers to exes, single mother, silverfox miguel.

series summary. you fell for miguel o’hara under the golden sun of greece, and for a while, it felt like a fairytale. then he disappeared, and reality hit—hard. fast forward a few years, and life in kalokairi is peaceful… until miguel shows up out of nowhere, looking as annoyingly handsome as ever. you’re determined to keep your distance. there’s just one little problem: he has no idea he’s a father.

status. coming soon

legends.

✧ chapter one. ✧ chapter two. ✧ chapter three. ✧ chapter four. ✧ chapter five. ✧ chapter six. ✧ chapter seven. ✧ chapter eight. ✧ chapter nine. ✧ chapter ten. ✧ chapter eleven. ✧ chapter twelve. ✧ chapter thirteen. ✧ chapter fourteen. ✧ chapter fifteen. ✧ chapter sixteen. ✧ chapter seventeen. ✧ chapter eighteen. ✧ chapter nineteen. ✧ chapter twenty. ✧ chapter twenty-one.

[healanette]

GIRLDAD!SMOKE IS S-TIER~

“Whole new world”

Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore x Y/N (Honey) (Honey is just a nickname smoke uses, it’s still a x Reader)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: None

Summary: Smoke as a girl dad

The juke joint had quieted down in the weeks since their baby girl was born, but inside the house, it was anything but still.

Smoke sat in the rocking chair by the window, their daughter bundled up tight in his arms, her tiny hand curled around his pinky finger. He stared down at her like she held the secrets of the universe. A soft, almost awed smile tugged at the corners of his lips—rare, but real.

“Honey,” he called gently, without taking his eyes off the baby. “You bet’ not be out that bed.”

“I’m just gettin’ a glass of water,” Honey called from the kitchen, her voice still tired but sweet. “Ain’t like I’m runnin’ a mile.”

Smoke stood, baby girl cradled against his chest. “You had a whole baby come outta you less than a month ago. Sit yo’ pretty self down, I’ll get the damn water.” He stepped into the kitchen, shooting her a look both stern and soft. “Ain’t nothin’ you need I won’t handle.”

Honey smiled, leaning against the table. “You act like I’m made of glass.”

Smoke gave a quiet snort, brushing past her to get a glass from the shelf. “You are. The most precious thing I got—‘cept this little one.” He glanced down at their daughter, now cooing in his arms. “And I ain’t takin’ no chances with either of y’all.”

He returned, handing Honey the glass with one hand while holding the baby steady with the other, practiced already like he’d been doin’ it all his life. He kissed the top of her head. “Now sit yo’ tail down. Doctor said rest, and I’m makin’ sure you rest.”

She obeyed, mostly because the way he looked at her made her chest ache with love. Smoke sat beside her on the couch, keeping the baby close. Every few minutes, he checked her little blanket, adjusted the cap on her head, rubbed her back when she fussed.

“You ain’t even blinked today,” Honey murmured, watching him with a grin. “You tired, baby?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Long as y’all good, I’m good. I ain’t leavin’ either of y’all’s side, not for nothin’. This here? This all I ever wanted.”

Smoke leaned over and kissed Honey softly, then touched his forehead to hers. “You gave me a whole new world, mama. You ain’t liftin’ nothin’ but that beautiful mouth to tell me what you need, hear?”

And with their daughter nestled between them and the smell of sweet lavender hangin’ in the air, Honey knew—she’d never be alone again.

[healanette]

𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧’, 𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧’

"Wait.you fucked both?!"

"Shut the fuck up, Mary."

"Oh, you nasty freak! Why didn't I know about this right after it happened?! Did you do it at the same time?"

"We are in a church parking lot! Have some couth!"

It's the summer of 2003 in the deep heat of Mississippi, and Juicy's just trying to live life loud-jewelry clinking, hips swinging, and lip gloss always fresh. Between running around with Mary, eating good southern cooking, keeping her name clean in a town full of loose talk, all while taking a break from behind a perfect college student, Juicy doesn't have time for love... not that it stops love from finding her anyway.

The Moore twins are back, and so are the memories they all tried to keep buried. Elijah 'Smoke' Moore is silent and steady. And he still had those burning eyes like he knew things she hasn't even admitted to herself yet. Observant as ever. And Elias 'Stack' Moore is still as bold, reckless, and shameless in the way he flirts, always saying the wrong thing at the right time just to see her blush.

It was just like old times. They're her brothers best friends, and she's not supposed to fall for either of them-let alone both. But in the hectic summer of '03, feelings begin to slip through the cracks as they all depend on one another, just how they did when they were younger.

What starts as teasing glances and late-night conversations grows into something tender, tangled, and far more complicated than Juicy ever expected. She's never been one to choose between sweet and wild... so why start now?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 | ★ ★ ★ ★

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 | 𝐒𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 | ★ ★

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐤 | ★ ★ ★

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 | *𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 | ★ ★ ★ ★

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐅𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧 | ★ ★ ★

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱 | 𝐖𝐞𝐭 ‘𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 | ★ ★ ★ ★

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 | …

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | …

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 | …

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐞𝐧 | ….

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 & 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 🗑️ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬★ ★ ★ ★ ★

[healanette]

SHEEEEEEESH TOJI!!!!!!!

cw: smut, screaming, unprotected p in v, toji being..himself. 18+ mdni!

toji fushiguro likes to make his girls scream.

usually it’s no trouble—he’s pretty experienced in the bedroom, obviously. he’s got a record of thirty-two seconds he set a while ago, as terrible as it sounds.

but you—his pretty new girlfriend—are giving him some trouble.

it’s been almost an hour. he’d done everything—oral, different positions, even that thing with his fingers that’s sure to make someone scream. yet you’re quiet, clinging onto his neck, only sounds falling from your lips are small gasps and itty bitty moans.

for your first time together, toji wanted to take things slow— but it’s not good enough. so, toji switches it up yet again.

he manhandles you to flip over, shoving a pillow under you—something he’d read a while ago and had yet to try out. his hands push your knees into your chest, keeping you open, before sliding his cock back in painfully slow.

you don’t complain or make any noise again, you just rest your hands on his big shoulders and hold on. then toji begins—sliding all the way out and shoving his length right back in.

that elicits the first loud moan you’d given him. if he didn’t know any better, toji would’ve thought he’d been doing a bad job this whole time.

and he thrusts again, slow, yet hard, punctuating each thrust with a sharp stop. you go quiet again, closing your eyes and focusing on the sensation of him—and he hits it.

“oh fuck.”

your voice comes out trembling, a little whiny, yet nothing close to a scream. toji picks up his pace, thrusts still calculated and mean. he hits your g-spot so accurately and aggressive, the sensation bubbling up inside you quickly.

toji sees it, heightened senses be damned, his eyes locking onto your expression. you’re biting your lip, squeezing your eyes shut, digging your nails into his shoulder. you’re like a balloon about to pop, pumped too full you can’t help what comes out of your mouth.

“fuck! fuck you!” you scream, eyes shooting open wide when toji penetrates your g-spot again, rudely.

“aw, that ain’t nice, baby,” toji coos, knowing you don’t mean any harm in your yelling.

you’re just overwhelmed by pleasure, he gets it—toji knows he’s good. he can feel your thighs trembling, your cunt spasming around him every time he hits that sacred spot so deep inside you.

“oh my god—ugh—shit!” curse after curse falls from your lips, only causing toji’s grin to get wider and wider. your moans aren’t pretty in any sense—each noise is ugly and visceral and raw.

toji is eating it up.

“let it out,” he rasps with a laugh, angling his hips to pound even harder into your tight walls.

your fist clenches together and you bang the side of it on toji’s hard bicep. he doesn’t stop, not even after all your exclamations and yelling, because he knows you don’t want him to.

toji doesn’t want to, either—he won’t be satisfied until you lose your voice.