sinners4ever

[sinners4ever]

The Smokestack Twins & The Clarksdale Bank Robbery.

I re-read the Clarksdale Herald article about the twins robbing the bank. I've been wondering about which twin did what. 

“Two masked men, both Black, stormed the bank—one took charge with smooth, calculated commands, while the other used violent force to control the room.”

When I read this after I first saw the movie, the words “smooth”, “calculated”, and “commanding” stood out.  At first, I assumed it was Smoke, because of his serious, practical, and no-nonsense disposition, and thought Stack was the latter, because he seemed more impulsive, and just likes to wing it, but I couldn’t really picture it. 

Upon several views, I think that it may have been Stack who smoothly commanded the room. Throughout the film Smoke inflicted most of the violence. He committed patricide, killed the snake, shot the thieves, threatened to shoot Pearline, pulled a gun on Sammie, and whacked him in the face, etc. 

Stack was a charmer, personable and charismatic. He persuaded Delta Slim and Cornbread out of their reluctance to take a job at Club Juke. It’s not that Stack is incapable of violence (he’s a WWI veteran and a gangster), it just doesn’t seem like his first resort. The most aggressive behavior we’ve seen Stack display was when he was locked in the room, under the influence of Remmick’s hivemind, and may have taken on some of his characteristics.

Basically, during the armed robberies, I just picture Stack smoothly demanding tellers to give him the money, with the implication of violence, while Smoke is watching his back, looming with the certainty of violence.

I love the little idiosyncrasies between the twins; Michael B. Jordan is fantastic. 

[sinners4ever]

LIFE OF SIN, stack x oc! reader

rosetta ‘rose' thornton finally returns home to the delta after touring for nights as a singer and is surprised to see her former lover, elias 'stack' moore has returned after 7 years in chicago. as the bitterness subsides and past feelings still linger for each other, unbeknownst to them, an even greater evil follows them back home.

chapter warnings — talks of violence (threat), use of the n-word, time-period drama,

PROLOGUE

Thursday October 13th, 1932 St. Louis, Missouri

Through the crowded train station, Rosetta Thornton sat alone on the bench, her brown dress dulled out against the Missouri crowd. She lowly hums a tune she sang just the night before -- an upbeat melody about heartbreak and drinkin' the pain away. She felt her body sway side to side at the tune. Her eyes wandered over the people passing by, rushing to their trains, dust picking up their hurried footsteps.

She bowed her head down to the long white box with a red satin bow on her lap. Her gloved hand slowly slid the card from under the bow.

The night before.

After a night of singing at yet another speakeasy, Rosetta settles into her hotel room. Just as her body got comfortable against the fresh, cold sheets, there was a knock at the door.

"Miss. Rosetta?" a bright voice calls behind the door, " 'Dere’s a box here for ya."

Confused, Rosetta slowly gets from her bed and to the door, peaking through to see a young bellboy, holding a big white box half od his size. Red satin wrapped around the box, creating a large bow, with a small card peeking out from underneath the bow. Even more confused, Rosetta opens the door, stepping aside to let the boy in. The box seemed light by the way the boy lightly tossed it onto the ruffled sheets.

"Y'know who dis from?" Rosetta finally asks.

The young boy shrugs as he heads towards the door, "No ma’am, we found dis on da front desk, waiting for ya."

That created a bit of worry in Rosetta’s stomach, hiding her worry with a smile and a small nod, “Thank ya.”

Once the boy left, Rosetta closed the door behind her and leaned against it, staring at the box across from her. She questioned whether she had ever had a secret admirer without knowing. Slowly, she walked over to her bed and picked up the card from beneath the bow. As she glanced at the note, she immediately regretted it, tossing the card onto the bed. Rosetta rolls her eyes.

To my songbird,  From your Stack.

--------------------------------------------------------

Her white-laced hand held the already bent card in her hand, continuously reading the message, a faint tsk leaving her lips, "This nigga..." She muttered lowly, thankful for the crowded station drowning her aggravation.

"From your Stack, my ass." She read bitterly. All the memories started flooding your mind. Memories of him.

Elias Moore.

The way he touched her made her feel alive, free. Everybody in the Delta called him Stack. Everybody except Rosetta. She refused to call him Stack. To her, he was her 'lias and her 'lias only.

Or so she once believed.

"Next Stop, Charleston, Mississippi!"

The conductor's voice rang out, snapping Rosetta out of her thoughts. She grabs her belongings, box included, and heads to her rightful train, to home.

--------------------------------------------------------

Charleston, Mississippi

Rosetta felt her heart swell with fondness at the sight of the Clarksdale station. She was finally home after what felt like years, despite it being 3 months. Singing blues at speakeasies, juke joints, or places the devil comes to visit, she remembers her father saying. The pay ain’t too well, but Rosetta couldn't complain too much. She felt grateful for the fact that she was able to sing whatever blues song she wanted, free from her father’s control or judgment from her older sisters.

Stepping further away from her train, bag on her left hand, box carried with her right, she hears the honk of a car, followed by a high-pitched voice screaming, "ROSETTA!!!"

Rosetta giggled, whipping her head toward the direction of the noise through the crowd. She spotted her sister June sitting beside her husband in the driver's seat of their car, both of them waving excitedly at her. 

June was the only person who never judged Rosetta growing up, never scrutinizing her just for existing and liking the blues.

 It broke Rosetta's heart when she had to leave home. 

As if she had any choice in the matter.

Rosetta waved back as she happily strolled in their direction. But her footsteps slowed at the sight of a crowd gathering, with music echoing from within. She approached closer just as the music ended and people began clapping. 

Then, she heard a voice. A smooth voice her body immediately recognized. 

A voice that is too commanding, too intoxicating to forget. 

“Y’all ready to eat?” the voice calls. 

“Yea!” the crowd shouts

“Y’all ready ta drank?”

“Yea!” 

“Y’all ready to sweat ‘till y’all stank.”

“Yea!!”

“We gon get funky like a Mississippi donkey, y’all.”

Rosetta's body froze in her spot, once she got a closer look at who the voice belonged to. Her lightened expression dropped. She held onto that white box so tightly, she could feel it crumple. It was him.

Elias Moore looked even better after all these years. From afar, his pinstriped suit was tailored perfectly to his body. His burgundy fedora couldn't hide his bedazzling smile that excited the crowd even more. Rosetta stood there as the crowd dispersed, begging her body to keep walking to her sister and her husband, resisting the pull of someone who should’ve remained a distant memory.

Her legs did the exact opposite.

She felt herself moving closer and closer to Elias' direction, she could see him even better. She could see that he was talking to somebody. 

She gently pushed past the crowd of people leaving. He was speaking with a smaller figure, a woman dressed entirely in pink. A pale woman with dark hair cut to her shoulders, it's color perfectly matched Rosetta's dress. 

Mary. 

Rosetta felt as if the wind had been knocked from her body. The familiar feeling in her chest that she felt when she first saw them together returned, as if it had never left. Rosetta's body finally listened as she started to walk away.

"Rose?" Stack shouts out.

"Fuck.." She muttered as she kept walking, bumping past people, a soft 'scuse me leaving her lips with each person she passes.

"Rose!" Stack called out again. This time, Rosetta felt that he was closer. She kept on walking until she felt a hand wrapped around her arm, gently pulling her back. Rosetta gripped the handle of her bag, ready to swing and knock somebody out, her voice raised as she turned around, "Getcho muthafuckin' hands off me-"

It was Stack. His fedora was off, and Rosetta could see him better. Through his facial hair, he looked just like how Rose first saw him when they were 18, from his hair down to the way he still chews that damn toothpick in his mouth.

Though his expression was unreadable, his eyes examined Rosetta, his Rose, questioning whether she was truly in his presence.

God, She wanted to hit him with her bag. But she couldn't and that pissed her off.

There was silence between the two until Rose finally spoke, breaking away from her trance, "Getcha hands off me 'lias." Her tone was harsh. Stack's grip on her arm loosened.

"Not until you talked to me ‘na." Stack's voice softened. Smooth like honey.

"There ain't shit to talk bout-"

"I see you got my gift." The corner of Stack's mouth rose into a grin, his eyes were down at the box in Rosetta's arm, the arm he held. Still had that boyish charm that had Rosetta weak to her knees.

Rosetta grimaced, feeling her face heat up, "You left for seven years without a fucking goodbye or even a visit, but you think gifts 'posed to make me feel betta? Make the pain any less? Boy, I oughta kill ya."

Stack's eyebrows furrowed, his sly smile forming into a frown. His eyes glanced down. Rosetta looked past Stack and caught Mary far behind. She was looking at Stack longingly. But Stack wasn't even paying attention.

After all these years, he decided to return. He returns to her? Why?

Rosetta huffed a bitter laugh, “But I bet ‘dem crackas from Chicago probably gonna get chu first.” She gritted, pulling away from Stack's grip, and rushing away towards her sister's car.

🏷️— @queenofklonnie22, @blk-afrodite , @heauxtales , @slyy-foxx , @happilycoralbird, @zomqiez , @whysoceerious, @bluejay2503 , @jackierose902109 , @monbebe-monstax , @hihellogoodbyebruh, @cerya

(if you would like to be tagged in the next chapter, pls fill out this form -- also comment your favorite part of the chapter, critiques are welcome, but please be respectful)

[sinners4ever]

Saving this for later. 🥰

criminal/stickyfingers!smoke x bimbo!black!fem!reader.

The first thing you smell is cash. Not cologne, not motor oil, not even the cigarette he’s always pinching between his fingers—but cash. Raw, bitter leather and metallic ink. Money. And it trails in behind him like smoke itself, slinking through the wide halls of the home he bought you, echoing off marble and soft light.

You’re bent over the marble kitchen counter, syrupy hips poking out from a pink satin robe, the one he got monogrammed with Mrs. Moore stitched over the heart. Bare legs glisten. Anklets jingling. Lipgloss always fresh.

His voice glides in slow. “Why you always bakin’ somethin’ with ya ass out like that, baby?”

You don’t answer at first. Just stir the sugar into the sweet tea with two fingers, lazy, wet swirls. You feel his eyes all over you—thick and hot like honey down your spine. So you tilt your head and smile, glossy lips parting just enough.

“Because you like it, Pa.”

Smoke chuckles low in his throat. Gravel. The kind of sound that makes your thighs brush together. He drops the duffel bag on the floor with a thud—money, of course—and strolls toward you, slow and greedy.

He wears all black, shirt halfway unbuttoned, gold chains dancing on his chest. You know he didn’t come home through the front. You know the duffel’s not from any bank that would shake hands with a man like him. His knuckles are still red. His ring’s still bloody.

But he pays all the bills.

You ain’t even know what a light bill looked like since you met him. His hand finds your ass before his mouth finds your cheek. A kiss, soft, reverent. Fingers sinking into the dough of you, making you gasp.

“You make my whole fuckin’ house smell like sugar,” he murmurs, brushing his nose down your jaw. “My sweet girl.”

You giggle like it’s innocent, though your knees are going soft and your robe’s slipping open. Your lashes flutter, thick and heavy. “M’just makin’ cake,” you hum, eyes glossy, dumb, pink. “Thought you’d be hungry.”

“i am hungry.”

You feel him growing against the back of your thigh. You let out a little coo, one of those bimboish gasps he lives for. His big hand wraps around your middle, just under your tits, pulling you close like he owns you. (He does.)

“Cake can wait,” he murmurs in your ear. “But I can’t.” And neither can you.

@cursed-carmine for the dividers .

[sinners4ever]

Pretty as a Magnolia Masterlist

Part One

Part Two (coming soon)

[sinners4ever]

thinking about negotiating back and forth with smoke... 18+ (suggestive/language).... modern era! au…lowercase intended.....

luvrs note: thx for the luv on my first sinners drabble... this has a lil more plot, and a cliffhanger... sorryyyyy!!! still getting used to this as it is new to me..... feedback is appreciated <3

the usual sound of the printer roused you out of your current lulled-out state. you'd been ogling at the application that had been faxed in, brow furrowed while reading through the fine print. The addressee had wanted some sort of shared ownership for a lot available for rent - to place some local bar in the middle of town. your eyes rolled at the signature on the final page, etched in dark blue ink.

elijah moore.

he was trouble, often referred to as 'smoke'. An enforcer in his own right; one wrong move would often render anyone destabilized long term. you, however wasn't just anyone.

your role was to investigate the applicants before granting a key to a property, ensuring no foul play was being done for the sake of profits. the issue was that smoke, and his twin brother, elias - stack, were top negotiators.

as in, they'd negotiate with anyone until smoke decided to yank out one of his barrels, armed and at the ready.

most people would let them claim ownership of properties without a fuss.

nothing worth dying over.

you read the application again, slapping an 'under review' sticky note onto it and forwarded him an email.

received. interrogation will be on friday. 8pm sharp.

smoke didn't notice the response until much later — he’d decided to go to the meeting for the sake of carrying out his duties; get the land, build a new bar and increase the big profits he and stack were already making.

what you didn’t know — smoke had carefully handpicked you as the investigator he wanted to meet. wrote a convincing letter to one of your managers; and who could blame him. you were the lead enforcer, having the best success rate while also ensuring these ventures weren’t done for the sake of taking advantage of the investor group.

he knew your silhouette like the back of his hand. the more observant, almost too observant of the twins, smoke was notorious for finding a target. most times it was to fend off a simple business rival, but you…

you enthralled him. prim and proper, you were perfect in his eyes, and dare it be said that very few things impressed such a man.

friday night would be more than back and forth negotiations — he intended to leave more than a signature behind on the dotted line when he was done.

nighttime rolled around much quicker than you’d expected on friday. the clock read quarter to 8pm, meaning there were fifteen minutes left of sanity to hold onto.

sure, you’d seen smoke from time to time downtown, often with a low brimmed hat or beanie, fists shoved in his pocket, one wrapped around his wallet, filled selfishly to the brim with cheques promising stacks of cash. besides the imposing nature he had, he was intriguing.

unlike stack, he was often seen in blue — nothing bright like the sky, but rather that of a softened denim, worn out by calloused hands and smudges from a couple fights. but beneath all of that, he was strong-willed, dominant… but with the right person convincing him, he could fold.

you’d opted for blue yourself, in a manner invisible to the eye, unless he chose to negotiate with you, layer by layer until nothing remained. on the surface, a simple black form-fitting dress. the day had been long, and at this point, slippers were most appropriate to calm your achy feet.

knowing smoke, he wouldn’t care what you wore. all he wanted was his money and to be on his way….

that is, until 8pm rolled around.

the slightly heavy pounding of a fist at the door nearly stole your breath, but you weren’t easily deterred. with a manicured hand, you twisted the doorknob, and his lip curled up immediately.

sure, you’d waited for him. yet you had no idea he’d been longing for you.

“evenin’ ma’am… let’s keep this simple, aight?” he said, walking into your workspace, shutting the door behind him. he lingered behind you, the scent of his heady cologne inebriating your senses almost instantly.

“that’s not how it works, elijah.”

“you gon’ call me smoke, first of all. just because you a whole investigator don’t mean i can’t have my preferred method of negotiation.” he scoffed immediately, taking a seat at your desk.

your gaze hardened, both in annoyance and a slight flutter in your stomach. his gruff drawl could have easily made you fold, but you had your duties to fulfil. not to mention, the black jeans paired with a white tank were not in any way appropriate for a business meeting.

then again, you were the one who’d suggested meeting him after hours.

“you want a drink?”

“gimme somethin’ strong, mama. we got plenty to chat about,” he said, a brief grin on his face only for it to fade. “they said you was the best one at investin’ — m’tryna put my money where yo’ mouth is.”

“understood… gon’ head and get comfortable.”

it took a while to decide, but you’d ultimately decided on some fancy irish lager you’d seen in the office pantry. handing him a bottle, you stood across from him, separated by a desk. he looked up at you, while you studied him.

it was brief, but the tension — palpable, hot.

you could taste it without saying a word.

the initial revision of the document was simple enough — smoke confirmed the fine print, asked his questions, and when he did, his eyes often followed the path being traced out by a manicured finger each time.

it had been a breeze.

until it wasn’t.

“I want my deposit, and half of the commission from yo’ earnings sent to me… clear?” you said, dark eyes narrowed as he snarled up at the offer.

he didn’t like sharing. and who could blame him? the only person he ever relied on was his brother.

he shook his head, letting the offer sit. “you’ll get the deposit… but half the commission? that’s theft in broad daylight.”

as he spoke, he took a swig of the lager, and sighed deeply. he could be patient, yes. but the two of you had been bickering for at least an hour.

“you don’t take my deal, you can see yourself off, smoke.”

just as he’s about to drag out a cigarette to ease his nerves, you instinctively snatch it out of his hand. you have the upper hand for a split second, only to be tugged onto his lap, the rolled paper sitting nearly between your thumb and index.

“you don’t think i ain’t seeing what you’re doin’, huh? you think because you a top performer, you just run shit now?”

you unintentionally shifted on his lap, and he hissed in turn. he’d always found you pretty, though he kept his distance to avoid situations such as this one. his hands rested comfortably on your waist, bringing you close enough that he could feel his belt buckle brush up against your thighs, now exposed due to the compromising posit

“you want some money, or not?” you chided, and his eyes narrowed.

“that ain’t how to negotiate, baby.” he murmured, snatching up the cig from your dainty fingers. “you should know better…”

you should have known — he’d figured out your strategy; an attempt to throw him off gone wrong.

he shifted beneath you, and that’s when you felt him. thick, heavy, and hard despite the denim being in the way. the former stubborn expression on your face was replaced with that of an open jaw and widened eyes.

“we gon’ start again, aight? I’ll sign yo’ shit so you can keep yo’ job… but m’gon show you how to negotiate properly.”

the grit in his voice had you shuddering, and you gripped onto his shoulder with one hand. the stable breath you had moments earlier had been turned into nothing but pretty gasps - pleas to learn negotiating his way.

"there she is - see, you can listen. and you gon' listen well." he chastised, letting your little black dress sit right up on your hips, revealing blue lace, a sliver of wetness peeking through the fabric.

imitation was indeed, the highest form of flattery.

"we not doin' this, smoke." you could barely get the words out, knowing how bad you wanted him to do this. the evidence was clear - he had you in the palm of his hand.

"uh, uh... that ain't how we negotiate, baby," he crooned, thrusting slightly up against the lace. you knew deep down that if all the clothed barriers were shed, you'd be split open in a way you'd never experienced.

"gimme a price, doll. how much is this shit worth to you?"

"s'worth a lot, elijah."

"then make your case, otherwise you don't get a thing from me and i take my business elsewhere."

the involuntary buck of your hips set him off, and he met you halfway, a wet puddle beginning to form on the apex of his jeans. his eyes locked on yours as you suggested a few price options, and it wasn't until you settled on a hushed '$15,000', that he stopped his ministrations to shed his jeans and briefs.

your body felt hot - boiling a mile a minute at the sight of him.

"i'll take that price, but i will not allow for the half commission earning...y'got anything else to offer me, doll?" he quipped curtly, snapping you out of your daze by slapping his fat tip up against the lace, now a shade darker given how soaked you were.

"'b-bout a quarter of the earnings, s-smoke?"

the tremor in your voice - you poor thing. once a confident and unabashed investigator to now a pliant, needy bargainer in the palm of smoke's hand. but you earned your reward at the sound of his voice.

"deal... you jus' gotta sing for me now, mama."

________________________

tags: @prettyfilmz @cremeful @zillasvilla @clubsoft @babynueva @charmed-dreamssss @cyberdejos2 @4milly @trippinsorrows @kenshisluvrgirl @sheaabuttaababyy @mselenalovebug @sayyestoheav3nn @shantinextdoor @minsingular @whowrotethenote @that-90s-girllll @harmshake @empressdede @usoinked @szatears @spiicii @punksyeet @luna-thecreator @tribalhoochie @tojisteddy

[sinners4ever]

Seeing this serious, battle-hardened gangster smile while holding his baby girl, being with Annie for all eternity, and finally finding peace makes my heart melt.

[sinners4ever]

excuse me as I cry

[sinners4ever]

SINNERS 2025 | dir. Ryan Coogler

[sinners4ever]

All Mine

Pairing: Elias “Stack” Moore x Mariah “Mimi” Black!Oc

Content|Warning(s): 18 plus, drinking, smoking, a little toxicity, tension, cat and mouse, vulgar language, oral fem receiving, p in v penetration, fingering, car sex, brat tamer, hair pulling, smacking, spit-play.

Summary: Mariah and Stack often played this game. It was evident to everyone around them that they wanted each other badly. But, neither one of them would put their pride aside to admit it. Every moment, every glance, every smart remark built a palpable tension…maybe tonight the game gets old..who knows.

It was a warm night in The Delta. Mariah and her friends were headed to the club for girls night after a long week of work. Mariah was a baddie if you’d ever seen one. Short with a cute frame and skin that glittered like bronze under the glow of the sun. Her friend Keisha was teasing about her possibly seeing her “man that wasn’t her man” at the function tonight, Stack. “Girl, when are you gonna stop playin’ and snatch that nigga up? It’s obvious y’all fuck with each other for real.”, Mariah sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Ain’t no body worried about that nigga, Keisha damn.” Keisha and the rest of the crew giggled girlishly and continued racing down the highway while they pregamed on their way. Mariah knew she liked Stack a lot. Every-time she saw him she could feel the butterflies in her stomach just fluttering away and her heart would race, but he was so irritating. Always having something smart to say or just him thinking everything was game even if secretly that’s what she loved about him. After they made it inside, Mariah went to the bar and grabbed a drink before going back to find her friends. The music was thumping and the vibes were amazing. She was already feeling the effects of her drinking before they arrived and now she was a little tipsy swaying or shaking her ass to whatever music was playing. She was in her own world until Keisha tapped her and pointed into the direction of Stack in the corner of the club letting some girl grind on him as if they were fucking right there on the dance floor. She would be lying if she said it didn’t ruin her whole mood, but she was gonna lie regardless. She waved him off and walked away. “Fuck that nigga, Keisha.” Little did she know he already knew she was there and was growing tired of chasing her…so it was time to get her attention. He smiled to himself seeing her walk off trying to be as unbothered as she could. He had no real interest in whoever this girl was, just a pawn in his little game nothing more.

After a while she was getting tired of seeing that bitch on him so she decided that two could play that game. She grabbed the finest nigga standing on the side lines while the song “All Mine by Brent Faiyez” played and started grinding on him slowly. He held on to her hips and matched her rhythm perfectly. She stood in perfect view of Stack and instantly his whole mood shifted. His jaws clenched and he had visibly gotten tired of whoever this girl was. He stood there for a while watching Mariah seemingly enjoying that niggas hands all over her and it made his heart race. What the fuck was going on he had the upper hand just a few moments ago? He cleared his throat and bucked the drink in his hand before making a beeline to her. “Aye brah, move she’s spoken for.”, He spoke roughly. The dude she was with laughed him off, acting like he didn’t even speak. Stack then turned his attention to Mariah. “Mimi, if you don’t get this clown ass nigga off you. I will.”, she giggled and moved her body slightly to the left looking past him. “I think shawty you was dancing with is looking for you.”, he scoffed. “Ain’t no body worried about her, I don’t even know her name. Mimi, come on stop playin’ with me now.”, rolling her eyes she told dude to go get them something to drink. “What the fuck you want, Stack?” Damn he looked fine as fuck when he was mad she thought. He grabbed her arm and pulled her off into his section. “You bogus as fuck for that shit. Letting that random dude touch on you like that.”,She was in disbelief. “You mean like how you had that girl you don’t even know all on you like you were her nigga? Please, Stack it’s not like you’re my man or something. I can do what I want.”, he moved closer to her and pulled her into him by her waist. “Nah, baby you got me fucked up for real. This right here is my shit.” She bit her glossed lip nervously. They’ve never gotten this close before what was going on with him all of a sudden. “Boy, you don’t want me for real, stop playin’.” He looked around and spotted her friends leaning into ear. “Go tell you lil friends you’re leaving with me…now.” She didn’t know why but that command made her stand upright and she listened. Her friends smiled at each other knowingly while they said their good byes.

The ride was mostly quiet besides “Vibes Don’t Lie by Leon Thomas” playing on the car stereo. Mimi watched him drive so attentively, noticing how his fingers gripped the steering wheel. The way he focused on the road and the way his free hand held onto her thigh. He found a park and stopped there. “Why are we here, Stack?” He pulled out a preroll and put it between his lips to light it. Inhaling and exhaling the smoke slowly he looked her little frame over and licked his lips. “To just talk, Mimi. I’m tired of this back and forth bullshit.” The look on her face was priceless she rolled those big brown eyes. “Back and forth the fuck are you talkin’ about. You’re the one always acting like you run some shit over here. Last time I checked you and I aren’t together, fucking, or even talking so you have no say so.” He chuckled and slowly put the blunt out. “That’s what you think, but I think you know who you belong to don’t you, baby?” He leaned over the console and gripped her thigh again this time sliding his rough hand up her mini skirt resting it on her inner thigh. Her breath hitched and she looked at him confused. “Now here’s the thing, Mimi. I want you…wanted you since the day we met and I know you want me too. The little games…attitude you give is cute, but I think you really just want some act right.” She blushed and looked away. His free hand turned her face back toward him. His eyes were dark , intense, and filled with desire. They looked at her plush lips noticing her breathing picked up. He smiled and leaned in letting his lips hover over her for a moment before he pressed them against hers roughly. He grabbed the back of her neck, adding more pressure into the kiss. Her body was putty in his hands. She grabbed onto his t-shirt pulling him in even closer. He groaned and she responded with a moan that had his dick rock solid. A hand wrapped underneath her skirt to grab that soft ass of hers that he’s been dying to touch. “Fuck, you so soft, baby.” He buried his face in her neck inhaling her scent while he licked and sucked on it leaving hickeys behind. “You so fuckin’ pretty, mamas. You know that?” She responded with a ‘uh-huh’ and all he could say was, “Good girl.” He slid his hand into the front of her lace panties quickly finding her hidden pearl. She gasped leaning her back and he smiled at how she reacted. “Damn, you so wet, mamas.” His two fingers rubbed circles around that sensitive clit of her and she bucked her hips in time. Slowly he slid those fingers down to her entrance and let them slip inside. She held onto his arm whining at the stretch, but soon melting into his once he started to curl his fingers up into her pussy. “Oh-fuck…Stack.” He smacked her thigh. “Nah, baby what’s my name?”, She quickly responded, “E-Elias…”, he praised with a quick good girl and continued to play in that juicy pussy all while watching her come undone. “It feels good don’t it, babygirl? You like that shit?”, she nodded rapidly “Mmmhmmm…”, he kissed her again picking up the pace feeling her warms tightening around his fingers. “You finna cum ain’t you?”, she responded with a moan and her body started to tremble. “Cum on my fingers, baby.” She did as he said and creamed all over his fingers even squirting a little on his leather seat. He smiled and kissed again patting her on the ass. “Get in the bag I wanna taste that pussy, mama.” She damn near flew into the back seat and he laid down the seats laying her back kissing her plush lips again and again. His hands exploring her body grabbing onto her rounded breasts playing and pinching at her nipples. Her pussy leaking and pulsing in response.

He spread her legs apart holding them to her chest while he laid soft kisses to her inner thighs. Her body jolted with each soft kiss that sent electricity through her body. He looked into eyes as he took the first long lick dragging his tongue flatly against her clit applying a little pressure. “Ooo…Elias…” he responded with another lick starting to suck on her clit. She tasted so sweet it made his eyes roll back. She grabbed onto his head pushing his face into her pussy more and it only motivated him more. Pushing her legs up further he buried his tongue in her pussy fucking it with his tongue while she bucked her hips back and forth damn near fucking his face. She sighed and moaned in pure bliss while he devoured her with no mercy. His dick was starting to hurt being confined in his pants so he unbuckled his pants and let it pop out of his boxers. She knew he had big dick energy but damn she wasn’t expecting that. She was practically salivating at the sight of it. “You want him?” She nodded and he obliged. He obliged held her legs to her chest and lined the tip of his dick up with entrance and slowly slid inside. That first initial moan from her as he slid in was music to his ears. She put her hand up trying to get use to him as he stretched her out and he swatted her hand away. “Uh-uhhh you can take him, baby.” He moved his hips slowly pulling his dick in and out and she was already forgetting her name and seeing stars. “That’s it, pretty girl.” His thumb rubbed her clit simultaneously while he stroked her slow and deep at first, but soon after she got used to his size he picked up the pace slamming his dick into her cervix. She was screaming in pure ecstasy while he continued to rub circles around her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her mind blank…only thing that was in her mind right now was him…only him. “Say ahh, babygirl.” She followed his instructions blindly and slowly letting spit drip into her mouth before he kissed her sloppily letting their tongues play with one another’s. “Oh my god, Daddy…I’m gonna…cum…I’m gonna cum.” He’d been wanting to be the reason she said those words for a long time and finally she was saying them. “Go head cum on this dick, baby.” Mariah’s legs shook as her whole entire body convulsed with this release her back arched and she was cumming uncontrollably. The sight of it pushed him over the edge and he reached his peak with her. Filling her up until his cum spilled out of her.

They laid there in the back seat catching their breath and he kissed her shoulder with her legs tangling around him. “You all mine now.”

[sinners4ever]

Pretty as a Magnolia

Pairing: Elias “Stack” Moore x Magnolia Black!Oc

Content|Warning(s): Fluff, persistence, sexual tension, inappropriate attention from father, rebellion, angst, smut (eventually), wandering hands.

Summary: Magnolia as sweet as the flower that bloomed. Stack full of fire and a dark side that most only spoke of in whispers. The two seem to be an unlikely pair, but they just may be each others saving grace.

Chapter One: Her Saving Grace

Magnolia lived a sheltered life in Clarksdale. She was the daughter of Bill Sinclair and Nettie Sinclair. They came from New York and settled back in the Delta when her Granddaddy Joe passed. Life was good besides the racism she endured which up north they were just as bad, but here it was a different beast entirely. But, she carried the heaviness of this place well. She was the quiet type, not being interested in being the mix of things and her father adored that about her while her mother wanted her to discover herself a bit more. She was a beauty and had a voice that could knock the most stubborn man to his knees, but she kept that beautiful voice inside afraid to show it to anyone for some reason. Everything was fine until her mama got sick and passed. Her mama was like her bestfriend the one person she always confided in and now she was gone. Her daddy didn’t take it too well hiding his grief with a bottle. Soon becoming a man she didn’t recognize. She avoided him as much as possible walking on eggshells in her own house. Staying out of sight as his eyes seemed to linger on her for too long. And some of the things he said made her skin crawl. She found something that helped her forgot about the world around her an escape…books and her singing. She read books imagining her life somewhere else in a different time and a different realm. She sang because when she lifting her voice all her burdens seemed to melt away and she felt even closer to her mother than ever before. But, it always seemed to fade when she set her eyes upon that house.

Today she had been running around with Pearline getting into this and that when they walked into the train station with all the commotion around them. And there he was Stack announcing the grand opening of he and his brother’s juke joint. He was handsome, with a charming smile, and a swagger that was very…inviting. She found herself staring at him while Pearline was going on about how she should sing at the talent show they were having that night. “No I can’t…you know I got stage fright, Pearline. Plus, my Daddy ain’t gonna let me go.”, Pearline just rolled her eyes and said, “He gonna be so drunk he won’t even notice you’re gone. Live a little, girl it will be fun.” Meanwhile Magnolia’s eyes never left Stack he was just so captivating until he looked directly back at her and smiled. She got choked up on her own spit and darted off. “Alright, Pearline I’ll see you tonight then. I’ll meet you there.” Pearline was a little confused but she just shrugged it off and said her goodbyes. The walk home wasn’t long, but she dreaded every minute that brought her closer to it. Coming inside she alerted her father that she was home and was gonna start on supper soon he didn’t answer back so she just decided to take a quick bath before she got to it. The warm water washed away all the sweat and dirt from the Mississippi sun and she felt relaxed. She head in her room to get dressed but jumped when she saw her Father sitting on her bed. “Oh my…hey Daddy what you doing in here you scared me?” He looked over between curvaceous frame hidden underneath that towel and then to her face. It made her uneasy. “You’re just as beautiful as your mother was…even more so now.” He stood to his feet stumbling over to her. She backed up away grabbing at the door knob., “Uh uh, babygirl. Where you think you goin’?” She smiled nervously trying to diffuse the situation. “Why don’t you go lie down, Daddy? I gotta get dressed and started on dinner?” He slammed the door shut behind her and leaned against it, “I ain’t hungry for no dinner, girl. I want you and that pretty frame of yours.” Your face twisted with disgust; eyes filled with betrayal. Your heart breaking at the way he looked at you. “Daddy, I’m gonna tell you once…get out of my room. I’m not your woman…I’m your daughter.” His drunken smile turned into a scowl his face so distorted it made her think she was seeing a demon right before her eyes. Then a struggle ensued he grabbed her arm painfully trying to pull her in for a kiss the smell of moonshine seeping from his pours was sickening and she turned away seeing her oil lamp on her dresser. She grabbed smashing it on his head with a primal scream. He was out cold and in a panic she grabbed her largest suitcase packed up as much of her clothes as she could took the money from her tin and left.

She wandered down that dirt road tears staining her cheeks. She looked back almost every second hoping he wouldn’t chase after her. When a car came speeding up the road but came to an abrupt stop upon seeing her. And was it other than Stack himself with Delta Slim, and Preacher boy in the car. At first he smiled at her with that devilish grin. “Hey little lady where you headed?” Until he saw her tears falling and he hopped out the car running to her instantly. He looked her over to see if she was hurt. “Hey…hey what happened?” She broke out into a full blown hysterical sob. “My…my…Daddy….he tried to…he…” Stacks eyes softened at the girl and wrapped his arms around stroking her back to comfort her. “It’s alright, now. Stack got you.” She didn’t say much but he knew exactly what she meant just by the little bit she said and that was enough to send him into a rage. “Listen to me how about you stay with me and my brother Smoke we will protect you, but first where does your Daddy live. I need to pay him a lil visit. Does that sound alright?” She nodded and hopped into the car and with her guidance he got to the house in no time. As soon as they pulled up her father came out in a drunken stupor smiling with a patch on his head from that oil lamp. “Hey gentlemen thanks for brings my baby back to me. It was just a little spat we was having ya know?” The three men in the car looked at him with disgust and indifference and Stack quickly hopped out of the car to snatch him up by his collar almost lifting him off the ground. Pulling his hand back into a fist he quickly landed a harsh punch that connected with a deafening crack. “I heard what you tried to do you sick fuck. To your own baby!!!!” He landed another blow dropping him in the dirt before pulling out his trustee knife and crouching down in front out him. “You see this? This is gonna be used to removed that little pecker of yours if so much as think about her again. You hear me? You try to get near her again the Smokestack twin will handle your sick ass you understand?” Her father nodded with blood leaking from his nose and mouth. “M…mag…magnolia…I’m so…sorry I won’t bother you again.” Magnolia sat in silence watching the man she once trusted get exactly what he deserved. She didn’t even give him a glance and with that Stack hopped back in his car and sped off to the old saw mill. On the way the boys decided to formally introduce themselves and you returned the favor. “Everyone knows me as Stack, but I’d like for you to call me by the name my mama gave me, Elias.” She smiled and nodded. “Alright, Elias. I’m Magnolia Sinclair or Mag.” He loved her name. “Just as pretty as the flower you’re named after.” She blushed and tried hiding, but everyone could see the red burning at her cheeks.

Once they arrived at what was to be the juke joint Stack came to her side of the car and let her out. She looked around and just knew this place was gonna be lit up like the 4th of July. Stack stood next to her, watch her eyes light up when she looked at this place. “I wanted to thank you for today and letting me stay with you. I don’t mean to intrude or nothin’.” He stopped her in her tracks, “Nah you intruding on nothing. You need to be and feel safe and I can provide that for you.” She sat in silence for a while watching the crew start working on the mill. “You performing tonight or you just here to have a good time?” She giggled girlishly and pushed him away. “Both actually I don’t sing around people much but I was convinced into to showing off my voice tonight so you will get to see my very first performance.” He was giddy, “Whew that’s what I like to hear, sugar.” She looked away bashfully and he cleared his throat trying to keep his composure. “Well, I’ma go help the boys out so when can get this done before the people come rollin in. You can help if you want or just sit and look pretty it don’t bother me none either way.” She nodded with a sweet smile and went over to Annie to ask her what she needed from her.

It took them about two hours to get everything up and running, but the end result was beautiful. Those twins sure knew how to put something together. She got changed into a fiery red silk dress her mama made her for her eighteenth birthday she never wore it, but it fit her like a glove. She pinned up her hair wore some satin red shoes to match. Before anyone arrived she came out so Annie and Grave could see her in it and give her their opinion. And they were not disappointed. “Well ain’t you a vision, Miss Magnolia.”, Annie showered her with praise. Grace chimed in, “Someone’s gonna love seeing you in their favorite color. He might want her to change someone might wanna snatch her up.” Grace teased. Magnolia twirled around feeling absolutely gorgeous until she saw him, Elias watching her with something she couldn’t make out in his eyes. He approached her with that same charismatic walk and smile. “Well, don’t you look absolutely delicious tonight, Miss Magnolia. I’m need to get a good stick to keep these fools off of you tonight.” She looked down self consciously at her feet and his rough finger lifted her chin., “Pretty girls like you don’t need to look down.” She felt the air in her lungs disappear completely as his eyes flick down to her lips then back to her eyes., “Thank you, Elias. You look very handsome yourself.”, he smiled and licked his lips letting go of her chin., “Do I now? Well thank you little lady.” Smoke was talking to Annie and they were most definitely talking about Stack and how he was acting with Magnolia he was smitten and Smoke couldn’t even recognize his brother at that moment. He was sweet on her like sugar on rice. Soon the crowd was coming and Magnolia was nervous so she went to the bar and got some liquid courage to calm them. “Annie can I get some of that fancy Italian wine they was talkin about ?” Annie laughed, “Sure, baby and if you’re nervous about singing. I heard you practicing. You got something special believe me.” Magnolia was very humble about her voice she didn’t want to come off too boastful. “That means a lot to me Annie , really .” The music was playing and she was about two and a half glasses in and her worries melted away she just wanted to dance. She looked around for Stack and spotted him quickly. Now it was Sammie’s turn to perform and you made a beeline to him. “Wanna dance with me, Stack?”, He laughed knowing you were a little tipsy be he indulged you, “Didn’t I tell you to call me, Elias?”, She covered her mouth almost as if to say “oops” before she laughed with him. “I’m sorry…Elias…but come on your cousin is playing.” She dragged him onto the floor and they started to sway to strum of his guitar. Her arms around his neck his around her lower waist it was perfect, it felt perfect. Sammie set off the rest of the night and with this new found confidence she was ready. After a few more set it was her turn and she was nervous but ready she had been singing little tunes in her head and she had the perfect song she wrote for her eighteenth birthday. She was feeling alive, sexy and seductive especially with Stack watching her. She whispered into Slim’s ear and started playing an upbeat shuffle and she started talking.

“How’s everyone feeling tonight? Y’all alright?” , they responded with hoots and hollers she smiled.

“Alrighttt….well let me introduce myself. My name is Magnolia Sinclair and I’m gonna sing a song I wrote for you tonight. Come on y’all stand up! Dance!” The crowd moved to the rhythm Slim was putting down and Magnolia was swaying her hips and tapping her feet vocalizing and she belted out the first note…

She felt the music in her soul and for once she felt like she finally belonged somewhere right here, right now. She was flirtatious with her cadence and her body moved freely to the music. Pearline was shocked but she was cheering her girl on. While Stack was howling like a wolf in heat, but also watching any man that even tried to look at her sideways. Once her number was up she went to go find Stack and he was waiting there with some cold water for her to drink. “You know you got quite a voice right there, girl. You looked amazing up there.”, he wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her into him. She smiled feeling an unfamiliar heat in her stomach. She blushed and subconsciously looked down trying to avoid his eyes. He lifted her head up by her chin and leaned in slowly letting their lips touch ever so slightly. Her eyes closed and fireworks went off in her mind. He pulled away looking down at her, smiling while her eyes were still closed. “You are quite a woman, Miss Magnolia.” He leaned into her ear, his warmth breath hitting her neck. “If you weren’t such a good girl, I’d take you in that store room back there and fuck you senseless.” She gasped and bit her lip., “Who said I was a good girl, Elias?” He chuckled and grabbed a good handful of her ass and smiled. “Maybe you ain’t, but you are definitely a lady. And I wanna court you the right way, Miss Magnolia.” She huffed a little in disappointment, but it warmed her heart that he saw as more than a cheap hussy he could use when he felt like it. Things slowed down a bit after a long night of blues and booze. Stack and Magnolia clung close as they swayed in time with the slow melody that Slim played as the stragglers were too drunk to move or the other patrons were on their way back home. It was an amazing end of the night, but Magnolia’s father wasn’t too far away watching and waiting to take back what was his.

To be continued…

[sinners4ever]

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)

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧...

[sinners4ever]

please promise me fandom won't disappear entirely into discord servers, i'm too old and employed for that

[sinners4ever]

For Smoke, Stack is always the first thought to echo in his mind, and Annie is always the last thought to leave from his heart.

[sinners4ever]

Our Roots Run Deep

Pairing: Smoke x Mama Fina aka Zerafina Black!OC ( A Mystic Healer)

Content|Warning(s): 18 plus only, SMUT, rough, blood, gun shot wounds, p in v penetration, oral!fem receiving

Summary: Zerafina hadn’t seen Smoke or as she’d rather call him Elijah in what seemed like a lifetime. But, here he was finding his way back to her porch so she could help patch him up again.

Author’s Notes: It’s been awhile since I wrote anything. I lost inspiration for a while, but Sinners lit a fire in me I can’t put out so here it is I hope y’all like it.

October 1932

The sun was high in the sky and Zerafina could smell the death in the air. She barely slept through the night as it seemed the wind howled through the night and the ancestors weren’t at rest. The Delta moved as normal but she could feel the shift all around her. Something evil came through here like a silent hurricane. Zerafina was what the people in Clarksdale called a root worker or a hoodoo woman. But, she was infamously known as Mama Fina. Her and the SmokeStack twins had quite some history and when they returned back to the Delta she knew no good would come of it. She was at her home in the kitchen grinding down her herbs in her pestle to make one of her infamous tinctures when she saw him, Smoke standing in her doorway. His breathing shallow as he held onto his stomach. Zerafina stood there in shock even seeing him there seemed like an illusion, but there he was bleeding out on her porch from what seemed to be a gunshot wound. He winced and his knees buckled. How did he make it this far? That saw mill was miles away from her little shack tucked off in the thick thrush of the woods. Without out a second thought she ran to him just as he was about to pass out catching him in her arms. “Now, now Elijah you ain’t gon’ leave this world just yet, I got cha’.” Her southern tone warm and sweet like honey. It filled his ears like a lullaby as his eye grew tooheavy to keep open. “I…need you— Fina.”, he muttered barely being able to speak. She hushed him as she held him up with all her strength and laid him down on her bed. She assessed his wound and went into action putting a pot of water on the stove. She ground up some knitbone, goldenseal, red clover, and mullein and boiled the herbs down into a tea. She also had some ground tobacco leaves ground up for similar things. She grabbed a bottle of moonshine she stored in a makeshift cabinet she built and grabbed some cloths. He was still out of it and as she sat at his side she looked at that handsome face and sighed knowing he came alone meant the worst for Stack. He was all alone in this world his other half ripped away from him. She knew this would wake him but he needed to be done. She popped the cork from the moonshine bottle and quickly poured the liquid over the bullet wound. The stinging burned through him waking him instantly he screamed in agony grabbing onto the closet thing to him her hands. She hushed and lulled him to calm down using her free hand to stroke his forehead and face. “Hush now, baby. I got cha’ now.” Once he relaxed she grabbed the ground tobacco and pressed it on his wound from front to back he winced when needed to lift him and patch and wrap him up. She got some cold water from the well behind her shack and patted his forehead with a wet cloth watching him sleep. Only waking him to give him some of that tea she made. She prayed over him calling out to her ancestors before her to help lay their hands on him. “Mama Ruth, Mama Sara, Grandma Pearl, guide my healing hands. Elijah’s work ain’t done yet.” You pleaded with them to save the man you once loved. Or maybe you never stopped loving him. His fever broke during the night and it seemed he was out of the woods for now.

The next morning you spent your time checking on him and doing chores around the house. You went into the clearing of the woods to grab some more herbs to help him recover but it didn’t take you long. He woke up to the smell of bacon, eggs, and grits cooking and he tried to sit up but winced from the pain of that fresh wound. His groans alerted you that he was awake and you rushed in to check on him. He thought he was dead, that him making it to you was simply a figment of his dying mind playing tricks on him. He remembered the rush of peace he felt when he laid eyes on you, the warmth of your touch when you carried him inside. He smiled with pain in his eyes as she sat by him cussing him out for even thinking you could move. “You as stubborn as a mule. You coulda died and here you go tryna get up and move around. Rest, Elijah.” He chuckled pain lacing every breath that he took. “Now, Fina you know nothing can keep me down too long.” She rolled her eyes and furrowed her brows to show him she was serious. “This ain’t just nothing, you fool. Now lay ya ass down fore’ you start bleeding out again. I won’t save your ignant ass this time ya hear.” She stood up and went to go check on the food while he still was in awe he made it, but then everything from the night before came rushing back. His brother…everyone he cared for and loved gone just like that. Atleast little Sammie was back home with his Uncle James. Zerafina prepared his plate and came back to his side, but he hadn’t noticed her by presence this time. Tears ran down his face but his face and eyes seemed empty. She touched his shoulder softly, calling to him. “Smoke….Elijah ?” He snapped out of his trance and slowly turned his head to look into her eyes. “What happened last night?” It took him a while to even put the words into a sentence, but eventually he did and as she fed him he told her about the horrors he witnessed unlike nothing he’d ever seen. The loss of his other half, even though he wasn’t truly lost and then them klansmen coming to see the aftermath of the ambush they planned. It was a good thing none of them survived or else they’d be looking for someone to blame. Once he finished he looked to Zerafina the woman who still held his heart and took her hand in his. “I’m sorry I left ya like that. You didn’t deserve that, yer’ always so good to me even when I don’t deserve it from ya. I love ya with everythin’ in me. I neva stopped lovin’ you, Fina. And I know I didn’t come see you when I got back, but I was afraid of facing you again. I was a coward.” She listened and fought back tears, but she couldn’t hold it anymore she gently fell into him crying into his chest. Letting all the feelings she buried deep inside her come back to the surface. She had thought she lost him once already once and then he stumbled through her door and the feeling of losing him covered her like a heavy blanket again, but here he was apologizing and comforting her. “I neva’ ever stopped either, Elijah. I prayed for you and Stack everyday. I waited for you to come home to me everyday since you left. And yes I was angry…hell I still am, but you’re here…wit me…alive.” She touched his face tenderly and he leaned into the palm of her hand like he was desperate to feel her soft touch again. They looked into each other’s eyes longing for something more, but Fina was afraid to hurt him and Smoke could see the hesitation flickering in those pools of dark amber. He knew he’d feel it later but he couldn’t deprive himself of what he needed most anymore…her. His lips crashed into hers feverishly; greedily. His hand grabbed the back of her neck pulling her into him. She rested her hands on his bare chest and breathed heavily into every kiss trying to catch it as it seemed he sucked every bit of it away from her. He slid his hand down to her hips and moved her beneath him as he held himself up to hover over her.

She pulled back, “Wait, baby don’t hurt yourself…take your time.” He smiled the pain he hadn’t even noticed with her underneath him like this. “I took too much time being away from you already, baby…no more.” His voice was deep and thick with want and desire he looked at you like you were a drink of cool water and he was dying of thirst. He hushed her worried with another kiss his right hand easing up her thighs and under her thin linen nightgown that clung to her supple skin. Her eyes stayed on his while his hand grabbed onto her breast squeezing it roughly before twisting her nipple between his fingers. She gasped and moaned softly while he leaned into the small of her neck inhaling her scent and kissing along her buttery soft skin. “Mmm…I missed that sound.” His hand slid down her waist and into her panties feeling the heat of her pussy in his hand. His finger tips rubbed circles around her sensitive clit and her body immediately reacted to that familiar touch. She tried to close her eyes but her grabbed her face. “Look at me while I make you cum, sugar. You know I love watching you cum.” Her body trembled as he continued to push her closer to the edge of her climax. His dick strained in his pants and she could feel it against her thighs. “I wanna cum with you inside me, Elijah—please.” Those words sounded like pure honey falling from her lips and he did exactly what she asked of him. He sat up slowly, unbuckling his pants. She watched and bit her lip seeing his dick pop from his boxers. It had been a while, but she was going to take him just like she always had. Smoke pulled away her panties and discarded them as if he couldn’t get rid of them any faster. Spread her legs looking at that pretty pussy of hers. “Damn, mama I missed her. Can I taste her first?” Zerafina nodded and he took no time to press his tongue against that pretty pink pearl of hers. Her eyes rolled and her fingers ran through his hair and he grunted into her pussy from how sweet she tasted. Her breaths heavy and filled with sounds of pleasure encourage him to lick and suck harder against that sensitive bud. Her back arched while she bucked her hips. She was riding out her pleasure on his face and he smiled into her pussy lapping and sucking pushing her thighs against her chest. He knew she was close, but he stopped just as she was about to release and lined the tip of his dick at her entrance. “Nice and wet just for me…I love you, Fina. I’ll never leave you again…I swear.” Just as she was about to say the words back he slid deep inside until he bottomed out and she was seeing stars. “Oh…my—fuck, Elijah!” He smiled watching her face and body melt into the pleasure. “That’s my girl, you remember this dick don’t you.” She nodded, “uh-huh…” he continued bucking his forward his pelvis smashing into hers without a thought of his injury or even what happened the night before. All he could think about was all could she felt wrapped around him like this. All this time waiting for him to make her feel this way. No other man could do it for her like him and no woman could even get close enough to him to even attempt to give him what only Fina could. He pressed his chest against hers and laced his fingers between hers while he dug in that pussy. The wet sounds of him stirring her up and their sweaty skin slapping echoed through the room. And God she looked so beautiful. She wrapped her arms around his neck and met his strokes with her hips bucking forward slightly trying to get him deeper. At this rate he would be filling her up in no time and she was close to coming undone herself. “Baby…I’m cummin’…” he said roughly into her ear before crashing his lips into hers again and as his warm seed coated her walls she was trembling from her own climax her pussy creaming allover him in return. Laying in the afterglow of their love making, she noticed his bandages were bleeding and quickly sat up to go get the supplies to change them and stopped her. “Hold on now. You’re gonna have to do that about three more times cause I ain’t done with you yet, babe.”

She shook her head and laughed, “I love you, Smoke but you really are a fool.”

The End.

[sinners4ever]

Still Standing Part 1 (Smoke x Black Reader)

Warnings: attempted assault, depictions of violence

A/N: idk how this became two parts yall 😭 I need self control. But this is just everything I love about Smoke in one fic lol enjoy!

***

With enough focus, Smoke could filter out every distraction except his target. And tonight? His target was you. His wife. Who had no business in a place like this by yourself. He made a note to chastise you about that after you cussed him out for his near decade disappearing act. He braced himself for that the entire train ride.

Eight years.

And now analyzing you from a distance, his body felt every painstaking moment of every single moment without you.

He supposed if you were going to be tending bar anywhere, it was safest at your Aunt Hattie’s, where he would have trusted your brothers to maintain a watchful eye. Though, at the moment, their eyes were doing more wandering than watching.

You could handle your own, you always could. He just wished every problem was not always on you. His eyes followed your movements as you charmed every patron with a smile that held all the warmth of the Delta. You continued to be the town’s favorite amongst the Williams family. Your wit, your charm, your grandmama’s healing gifts were traits every person in the town gravitated toward, shielding you from the troubles your brothers got into.

Grace shared that you still worked out of the house he built for you, off the beaten path. How you spent most of your time taking care of everyone in town without slowing down or caring for yourself. He imagined that was why you were even here now. Eight years ago, you barely liked to step foot into Hatties unless you could hold onto him. But now, you worked the bar as if you’d done it your entire life.

That dazzling smile that made him fight for every sunrise to get back to you, the gentle and sensual sway of your hips that made him want to grab hold of your ass and hold you against him, your sweet giggle that somehow rose above the jazz melody straight to his ear. A sound that had long started to fade in his mind. But now, it felt like the first stroke of warmth against his heart since he last saw you.

Mere moments back in you proximity caused all his safeguards to crumble into pure ash. The true extent of his everlasting love for you filled his being, a rush of everything he pushed deeply inside to survive in Chicago. He felt the burning flame in his heart he forced himself to reduce to a simmer, the rushing waterfall he slowed with a fortified dam.

Mere moments back in you proximity caused all his safeguards to crumble into pure ash. The true extent of his everlasting love for you filled his being, a rush of everything he pushed deeply inside to survive in Chicago. He felt the burning flame in his heart he forced himself to reduce to a simmer, the rushing waterfall he slowed with a fortified dam.

“Just go n talk to her, nigga. Know you want to. Sulkin’ over here like you scared or some shit,” Stack muttered, both their hats dipped low enough to further obscure their identity and presence.

“Ain’t never been scared,” Smoke muttered back. Which was a half truth. He had been scared in his life, but it was too long ago to remember.

His inability to approach you yet had little to do with fear. He knew there would be anger, resentment. And it would be righteous. He would accept his licks like a man, apologize for abandoning you as he did, do whatever it took to earn your trust again.

But what you two shared? He had to believe there would be forgiveness once you said your piece. A belief only solidified by the ring dangling from your neck as you leaned over. His mother’s ring.

More than anything, he wanted to simply watch you. See if the you that danced through his dreams every single night was still… you.

His hand twitched toward his revolver more than once as niggas’ hands touched your body, even just to shove a few coins into your hands or shift around you. He was always ready to move but he found that he did not need to. You artfully dodged touches that lingered beyond acceptability, letting the men who vied for your attention down with the perfect balance of kindness and finality.

He was surprised at how long he and Stack were able to go unnoticed in the dim corner. The few who recognized them kept it to themselves, giving the twins a wide berth. The poor lighting provided the perfect cover. He could study you and you did not seem to know he was there. But you were always the perceptive sort, could always sense his presence somehow. So he was not shocked that, every once in a while, he noticed your eyes lingering amongst the crowd as if you were searching for someone but could not find them.

Occasionally, your honey smooth voice caught his ear again, healing some of the wounds he gained while away. All the intricacies and oddities he fell in love with at 14. seeing you brought it all rushing back into sharper focus.

He still remembered the moment he realized he was in love with you. Decades ago but it was as fresh as if it were yesterday in his mind.

Stack’s body had been a heavy weight to support all the way to Mama Mabel’s. But his father had done a number on him and the little bit of ointment and bandages he had left wouldn’t cut it this time. And it was far faster to take him to her than run there and back. And… it got them away from him.

So he walked a mile with his arm around Stack’s back, heaving his weight along as his feet tried to maintain his own weight.

“I can walk, Elijah.”

Smoke did not let go of his hold, knowing his brother just didn’t want anyone to see him like this.

He glanced up at Mama Mabel’s porch, unsurprised to find Miss Evie sweeping. She only looked at them once, noting the panicked look on his face, before immediately discarding her task.

“Mama! Twins here.” She called over her shoulder before rushing out of the shade to help him the last few feet. “Let me help you, boy.”

“I got em.”

“Yo pa?”

“Passed out. Drank so much, he won’t wake up till tomorrow.” His voice was matter of fact, no emotion. He didn’t know if he even had any left these days. “Worst day so far.”

She nodded, grabbing Stack’s other arm, though Elijah was reluctant to yield any of his weight to her.

He had him. He always did.

She helped Elias lay down on the cot in Mama Mabel’s shop, the sharp smells of her brews hitting his nose. He looked down at his brother, his usual slick smile diminished, his thin body bruised and bloodied from their father’s blows.

“Ran outta what I gave you already?” Mama Mabel emerged from her back room. However, when she took in Elias’ state, she simply bowed her head, cursing under her breath. She threw the damp towel in her hand to her daughter who took charge of dapping the sweat from the walk off his brow.

“Some men don’t deserve the blessin’ of life. Ole drunk,” Miss Evie muttered to her mother in irritation, quiet enough that Elijah shouldn’t have heard them. But he did.

“Hush now, girl. Sayin’ that in front of them.”

But it wasn’t something he didn’t think about every single day himself when he laid down at night.

“Yall gon’ stay here tonight.”

Elijah immediately shook his head. “We don’t wanna be no burden. Just didn’t have enough to bandage him up.”

“Well I’ll bandage him up n you’ll stay the night.”

He opened his mouth to argue but corrected himself. He knew arguing with Mama Mabel was futile.

He leaned against the wall in the corner, his body relaxing ever so slightly with every cut and bruise she tended to with such care. Some minute part of him envied receiving that, the healing touch of a mother. He did not know what that felt like anymore, what it felt like to be cared for. He supposed he would never know either.

The only thing guaranteed in life was suffering and the end. He didn’t expect much else.

“Go out there for me n see what’s takin’ that gal so long. Head always in the damn clouds when I need her workin’,” She called over to the teen watching her every move with precision.

He glanced out the open back window, a young woman kneeling in the soul of their garden with a woven basket by her side. The wind swayed the plaits falling down her back as she faced away from the house. Y/N kneeling in front of her garden with a basket.

He glanced back at Elias before she waved him along.

“He safe with us. Promise. Helpin’ Y/N will help me help him.”

And with that, he trudged out the back door and toward the garden where you sat.

Your voice reached him first, the soft humming you used to occupy yourself in the peace of your garden. It was soft, like a sweet melody. He liked it. So he did not interrupt at first, he just stood a few feet behind you, watching.

Your humming ceased as you sensed the silent presence of another. “I know, Granny. Movin’ too slow, I’m comin’” You turned, dusting off your knees. “Oh. E-Elijah. S-sorry, thought you were my...”

Your words fell off awkwardly as you teetered on your heels. His face twisted up in surprise. No one could truly tell them apart unless they were side by side. When they were separate, it always took a few minutes for someone to know who was who.

“Elias stay showin those teeth of his, always talkin. He easy to spot. Everythin’ alright? You ok?”

“Mama Mabel asked me to come check on you. See what’s takin’ so long.”

His eyes focused on your near empty basket, you shyly grinned, your eyes glancing at him with a childlike guilt in them.

“I was doin’ it. Promise. But I noticed some weeds n… Granny say I spend too much time tendin’ to the garden when I should be pickin’. Head always in the clouds. But I told her, “ain’t that where all the spirits and ancestors you teachin’ me bout are?’ Mama popped me in the mouth for that one.”

His lips curled into a rare half smile, which made your smile grow even brighter.

Shit.

Your smile felt like pure exhilaration. He considered it to be the most beautiful thing he had laid eyes on and there was God-given beauty all across the Delta. But it all paled in comparison to your sweet smile that held the warmth of the Sun.

“So you do smile… never thought I’d see the day. You should do it more,” you offered, your voice quieter as if the thought was more for yourself than him. Umm yea, tell her I’ll pick it up. Be in soon.”

He glanced around before rolling up his sleeves and dropping to his knees to help her.

“Oh you ain’t gotta-“

“I know. But then you can tend to your garden n I can pick for you. Mama Mabel won’t know the difference.”

Your smile became softer as if you were not used to help. But he knew the young people in any house were the help, there was no rest for able bodies.

“Thank you, Elijah.”

You quietly hummed This Little Light of Mine as you two worked, you taking care of the roots and soil while Elijah picked what you directed.

“How you doin?”

“Elias needed Mama.”

“Didn’t ask about Elias… know yo daddy, know how he doin if you brought him here. I asked about you.”

Elijah found that he still did not know how to answer that. So he lamely just answered, “Well, he ain’t hit me.”

“Don’t mean he ain’t hurtin’ you. Makin’ you watch it. Don’t mean you ain’t wounded or hurt just cause he the one in there. Hearts hurt just like a black eye. Just can’t see it n it don’t heal as fast.”

His movements stilled, your words an emotional gut punch he had not expected while gardening. He tried not to think about it, when their father hit them. The emotional agony it caused to watch Elias be subjected to the brunt of their father’s drunken rage. Some was due to his smart mouth, though it still never seemed to warrant the vitriol his father directed toward Elias. But Elijah knew that his father also recognized one unfortunate truth. Punches had no effect on Elijah. He offered no reaction, no anything. But hurting his brother did. So Elias often bore the brunt of their punishments.

And he hated his father for it.

“I have somethin’ that’ll help?”

“Don’t know if anythin’ help except…”

Your mother’s words cycled through his mind, a sentiment he felt more often than not when his father hit them. To just end his sorry existence so they could be free of him.

“Try. For me?” You asked, sweetly. “You gave me a smile… can’t give me one more thing?”

I want to give you the world, a small voice whispered in his head. An uncomfortable warmth spread in his chest and his stomach that had nothing to do with the sweltering Delta heat.

“Besides, can’t make you feel worse if it don’t work.”

Your eyes remained on his, inviting him to break a few rules with you, as your feet moved backward toward your family’s live oak tree in the distance. He didn’t immediately follow, torn between his intrigue with this perfect angel who captivated his being with one smile and his desire to stay close to his brother.

“Don’t worry. We ain’t goin’ far. Somethin’ happens, we can still hear them callin. Trust me, Elijah.”

His name on your lips sounded like every beautiful thing, the river bank by their shack, the sunrise on a new day, the calm of a rain storm sweeping the horizon. He’d pray for every sunrise to hear you say his name again.

And with that, you took off running toward the giant tree off in the distance. And he immediately took off after you, abandoning his task of helping you pick herbs faster.

Your running turned into a race as he caught up to you in seconds. Your laughter blended with the wind whipping past his ears, the sweetest melody he had ever heard. He only felt this relaxed, this free when he and Stack ran to the river to escape their father. Just pure exhilaration and freedom for a brief moment.

It had always been the rarest, fleeting air. One he thought he could only feel with his brother, his other half. But he could feel it here with you.

You both needed a moment to catch your breath once you were under the cool shade of your family tree, generations buried in the soul surrounding it.

“Granny brings me out here. Says healers need a place to heal themselves, release the pain we confront every day. Started makin’ me come out here when she started trainin’ me. It’s a good spot to feel it all.”

He glanced around. “What do you do?”

You shrugged as your body leaned against one of the low sweeping branches. “Whatever you wanna do. Cry, scream, just sit. Whatever feels like what you need. Whatever fills your spirit so you can take care of him n yourself tomorrow.”

You slid down onto the soft soil, your skirt billowing out into the grass, closed your eyes. He did not know if he believed this would accomplish anything but he also didn’t want to walk away. Not from you.

He plopped down unceremoniously next to you, both your backs pressed against the tree.

He remembered just sitting there, staring at your house in the distance. He didn’t even realize how you both unconsciously shifted closer and closer to each other until your small shoulder brushed against his.

He watched you mutter prayers under your breath, caught his and his brother’s names in your prayer for safety and protection. Then quiet. Stillness.

You slouched a bit so you could rest your head on his shoulder.

His entire body tensed beneath you. Not from fear but something else he couldn’t recognize. Like the action stole his breath away. The tenderness you offered was so unlike all he knew, all he remembered in his life. The last woman to hold him tenderly died shortly after giving birth to them. And then touch became a danger to combat, not a comfort to lean into.

You seemed to not even realize what you’d done, immediately popping up, a guilty look on your face.

“Sorry. Touch is… important to me. But I should know it ain’t for everybody.”

“Nah nah… it was… fine,” he offered lamely. “My shoulder’s all yours if you need it. Want it.”

You grinned, resting your head back where it was. Something in him settled again with your weight against him.

“A smile and your shoulder? I think that means we friends now.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Ain’t too good at friends.”

“I gotta feelin’ you’d be good to me.”

His head rested on yours and you just sat, in utter silence. Elijah sniffled as he felt a tear fall as he sat. He tried to lift his arm to whisk it away discreetly but you rested a hand on his arm.

“Nobody gon see you out here. N no one will hear it from me. Rest, Elijah. Let em fall if you need it. I’m here.”

And there, under the weighing branches of your tree, he rested. He allowed himself to feel all the pain he bottled up day after day to survive in their corner of the world, to survive in his own home.

It hit him in peaks and every time he felt himself wanting to clam up, close himself off again, you just grabbed his hand. And when he heard your sniffles, saw your tears, he just returned the favor.

He didn’t know how much time passed, he found that with you, he didn’t care about the time. And you only moved when you both heard your mama calling for dinner.

You both sighed, a sadness at the end of your quiet moment feeling like more of a sharp pain than anything else. He didn’t want this to end. But he needed to check on Elias.

“Granny’s gon’ kill me,” you muttered as you scooped up the only half filled basket Elijah discarded once you were back in the yard.

And while she didn’t kill you, thankfully in Elijah’s opinion, she did cuss you seven times to Sunday for wasting an afternoon and taking your time when there was work to do. And after dinner, instead of getting to go to sleep, you were tasked with cleaning up her shop and restocking her brews when she finished them - whatever time that would be. Since “you already rested enough for the day.”

You were quiet the rest of the day, forlorn and despondent through dinner, so you didn’t say much to him as night fell and everyone in the house prepared to rest.

Everyone except you two.

When your grandma finally went to sleep herself, leaving you to your task that would take the rest of the night, Elijah finally came inside from the porch. Your back was to the door but you sensed him yet again, how your hand stilled over the giant pot of whatever your grandmother brewed.

“Sorry. Don’t mean to get you in trouble, takin’ care of me.”

You shook your head and abandoned your task to close the space between them. Peace. It disappeared when they left their spot under the tree. But he felt it when you were close.

“Don’t. Knew what trouble I was bringing myself when I did it. But if it helped you, it was worth it.” She paused, chewing her lip as she timidly asked. “Did it? Help?”

He found himself nodding. “It did. You got a gift, Y/N.”

“Good. Then one night of lost sleep ain’t a thing. Now you go to sleep, brought that out for you.” She pointed toward a small cot and pillow situated beside his brothers. “I’ll keep an eye on em.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

He slid into bed as he tried to quiet the litany of confusing thoughts racing through his head. He had never felt this way before. But when he should be worried about his slumbering brother or determine how to free them from their father, there was only one thing at the center of the tornado in his head.

You.

“I’ll be good to you, Y/N. A good friend to you, I promise.”

The words were so quiet, he was not confident you heard him. But then he heard the faintest sniffle, saw hastily turn to wipe away a falling tear before turning back to him with a smile that said more than words ever could.

“And I’ll be good to you, Elijah. I promise. Get some sleep.”

He chuckled, turning over so he wouldn’t get distracted by examining you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

But even as he buried himself in his pillow on his cot, one that smelled so perfectly of you, he knew that he didn’t want to be your friend. He wanted to be so much more.

His love sick walk down memory lane ended as swiftly as it sparked when he noticed a man lingering at the bar chatting with you, even after finishing his drink.

He tilted his head slightly toward Stack. His brother never forgot a face.

“You don’t remember that nigga? Red. Grew up down the road, Ms. Sally took him in after his mama died. Daddy probably dead now too. Damn drunk. Ran off Nawlins the first chance he got. You know half the niggas in town had a thing for Y/N."

Smoke studied the terrain, realizing that he could not shoot this man across a crowded barn, though that was the simplest option. But he always knew that patience and opportunity were the key to strike. Never too early, never too late. Besides, Red knew exactly whose you were. And only a man desperate to meet their maker would touch what belonged to Smoke Moore.

Stack let out a deadly chuckle as Red grabbed your hand unexpectedly, your face twisting up in shock for the briefest second before you smiled and discreetly tore your hand from his grasp.

“You gon’ take care of that?” Stack asked, gesturing toward you.

Smoke let his discreet loading of his revolver answer that question for him. The man clearly had a death wish. Smoke was more than happy to ensure it came true.

“Shame. Liked that Red. Never knew what was good for him tho,” Stack mumbled.

He continued to watch, waiting for his moment to strike, to remind everyone in the room who Smoke Moore was when you yelled something over your shoulder in your aunt’s direction and stepped from behind the bar.

You still didn’t see him, even as you navigated the sweaty, teeming dance floor to reach the back storage room. Smoke did not even try to hide in the shadows this time, you were just that preoccupied with your own thoughts. So preoccupied he realized that you didn’t notice how Red waited long enough to drink his shot before following after you.

Smoke knew what that meant. What that always meant. Smoke was not even the jealous twin. But Red made a choice. To make you visibly uncomfortable. To pursue his woman in front of half the town. He toyed, briefly, with the idea that you and Red were… more. And that this was simply part of that. But then he realized that he did not particularly care. Whether or not this was your choice was fairly irrelevant to him.

If this man was courting you, he’d kill him.

If this man was trying to cause you harm, he’d kill him.

Mercy was your tool… but it had never been his. he had considered just shooting Red in the hand to prove a point originally. However, now? The die had been cast.

He had a reminder to issue: whatever happened while he was gone was over. He was back and no one would touch what belonged to him and live to tell the tale.

He cocked his gun before moving in your direction. He had been gone too long and people had clearly forgotten who the fuck he was.

Judge.

Jury.

But most importantly… Executioner.

***

“Come on, sweetness. Gimme a smile.”

“Done smillin’ for you, Red. Get on so I can get a payin’ customer up here.”

You had grown weary from Red’s tired advances long ago. He tried, week after week, coming to your home with ailments and aches just so you would patch him up. Since his wife ran off with another man a few years back, you tried to be there for him. After all, you were, unfortunately, the town’s expert on disappearing spouses. You understood the depths of his grief, to lose the person you loved because their spirit demanded something else of them. Whether for love, greed, power, or something more righteous. The one left behind was left broken and alone all the same.

But Red mistook your kindness for affection. And sadness, desperation, and liquor were an unfortunate combination. The more he drank, the more relentless he became. Hattie helped remind some folks whose last name you carried but some… like Red were often too drunk to listen or care.

And on Saturdays at Hattie’s, he was his drunkest.

“But I’m your favorite customer, ain’t I, Y/N?”

You ain’t

“It’s bad for business to have favorites,” you offered with an awkward smile.

“Get me another,” he demanded.

You knew it would be a long night if you were already about to pour his fifth glass. He already smelled like someone swapped his blood out with a bottle of what you were pouring.

“N while you at it, tell me, why aint you spoken for?”

You used your apron to quickly dab the beads of sweat off your forehead before you grabbed a glass.

“You know damn well I’m spoken for, Red.”

He threw his head back in exuberant laughter.

You knew one person who would not find it as hilarious. Your husband. Wherever in the world he might be right now.

Elijah “Smoke” Moore.

Though only you and his brother knew him as Elijah. Everyone else? Smoke. And his chilling reputation far out lasted his presence in their small town. Seven years later and most still get a bit more jumpy when someone mentions the twins.

While you never agreed with his way, you could not deny it served you well. For the most part, no one caused you trouble. Why would anyone want to be on your list of grievances should Smoke ever come back into town?

You always prayed he would return but you knew it was foolish to hope for it. You whispered his name along the evening breeze in your nightly prayers, merely hopeful for that moment that your comfort reached him in his corner of the world.

While you were not waiting on his return, you also had not “moved on.” You tried, Lord knows you tried. You thought it would heal you, satisfy you to be close to someone again. But the high it gave you was impermanent. It vanished from your grasp like literal smoke.

Because of Smoke.

It was a crushing discovery to realize that the itch you needed to scratch would never be satiated by anyone else.

Your need was to be healed. And only one person could do that. Because Smoke was the first man in your life who tended to you first and foremost.

You spent your days since childhood caring for everyone else. It was your calling and you were grateful to the ancestors for it. But it left no time for you. But in Smoke’s arms? He cared for you, allowed you to feel all the pain and pleasure of the world, allowed you to fall apart and be vulnerable. His touch methodically healed the aches, pains, and sufferings that no one else saw.

And that’s what you desired, craved in the loneliness of the night. Not a warm body or a tryst in Red’s barn. Not fucking that was over before it began for you. You yearned for the other half of your heart. To be tended to and loved on. And the man who had your heart was hundreds of miles away. So you grieved that part of your life. If it could not be that, if it couldn’t be him… it was not worth giving more of your spirit.

And you made peace with what was lost when he left. You were heavy hearted, broken, but you found it difficult to even conjure up rage toward him after a few days. Because you understood that he would never choose you and the quiet life you desired over him.

You knew Elijah loved you with everything. That was never in question. But if you were half of his heart, Stack was the other half of his soul. One could not survive, not fully, without the other. And Stack needed more than their town could offer. And Smoke needed Stack.

Despite your fear that you’d laid eyes on him for the last time, you made no effort to share that with your neighbors or stop being Smoke’s woman. A woman without a man was one without protection, you knew that much. So you relied on whatever kept you safe: your prayers and his threats. You counted both as help, both as a blessing.

“By who? One of them crazy Moore twins? Haven’t seen that nigga or the other one twin here no where to speak for nobody. Seems like you free to do what you want. You could give me a dance, sweetness.”

His hand grasped yours as you pushed the glass his way. His grip was firm so it took you a moment before you could rip your hand out of his embrace.

“Well I ain’t seen him round neither but I’m still spoken for. If you knew what was good for you, you’ll take that drink ’n get the hell on, Red,” you warned, your voice losing some of its sweetness.

“Need a couple more bottles, Y/N.”

You didn’t need to turn around to recognize the sharp voice of your aunt, Hattie Mae.

Your grandfather opened this joint twenty years ago and it was still standing. "Weathered and worn but still standing," he'd say. Your aunt took over when he died and you started helping her a few months ago after she hurt herself. Your brothers were useless at the bar and Hattie said it helps to have a pretty face serving up the drinks. So you helped out where you could on the weekends. You always found Hattie’s to be overwhelming, preferring to stay glued to Smoke’s arm when you went together. But you found peace behind the bar, being able to watch the hustle and bustle from afar. The extra money did not hurt.

You’d typically demand one of your brothers carry the heavy bottles for your aunt but you’d welcome any excuse to escape Red’s leering eye.

“I got it, Auntie Mae.”

You used the walk to dry your hands, both were sweaty and clammy from the heat of the Delta mixed with all the bodies and dancing.

You pushed through your exhaustion, the aches and pains in your limbs more pronounced without the distractions of people and music. You had been feeling it more lately as you leaned for a moment against a shelf. You were just like this joint. Weathered and worn. Sadder than you once were. But you were still standing too. Was there any other choice?

You balanced four bottles in your arms before determining that it was your limit. However, you almost dropped every last one of them when you turned to find Red waiting in the door frame.

“God almighty, Red! You scared me! You gon’ stand there blockin’ the door or let me get these back out to Hattie?”

He was as immobile as a tree as you tried to go around him. He did not answer you or speak, the silence putting you on edge. You loved a man like that, whose silence was a weapon, his greatest tool. You gravitated toward his silence.

But Red was not him. His silence unsettled you, forced your eyes to search for a path that would lead you away from him.

“Red. This ain’t funny. Get outta my way. You know how Hattie gets. I gotta get back to the bar.”

“Lord knows I’ve been thinkin’ bout you ever since my wife left.”

You typically didn’t feel fear. There was no need with generations of ancestors watching over you. But as his hand closed the door and the screech of the latch hit your ear. You felt it like a tiny seed sprouting in your belly.

Fear.

You immediately retreated as he advanced.

“I’m married, Red. You too. ’N you drunk as a skunk. Now let me outta here.”

“My wife gone, your husband been gone. Dead in a ditch somewhere knowin’ that nigga. You got the entire town ‘fraid to dance withchu cause of him? But see… I ain’t afraid of no dead man, Y/N. Aint scared of no ghost story. Don’t act like you don’t want me too, sweetheart.”

“Red… I d-don’t want you o-or anyone. We can forget about this tomorrow, just let me go.”

“After I waited years for this? Nahhh, baby. Ain’t ever lettin’ you go now. You’re mine. Helpin’ me night after night. Checkin’ on me after that bitch ran off. You’re the light of my days, sweetheart.”

This could only be described as irony in its cruelest form. A forced reflection on your own naiveté, you supposed. You remembered something you said to your husband once, early in your courtship, when he asked you why you never called him Smoke.

“Because everyone else needs you to be Smoke. Here I… just want you to be Elijah.”

And he bowed his head, shaking it as his hand gripped the meat of your thigh.

“You need Smoke too, baby. No one is ever gon’ hurt my family. I’m here to protect you. You need him. Everybody do.”

Elijah had always been… heavy. Weighed down by all the things he had done, from such a young age, to protect the people he loved. And as much as you adored being loved by him, you did not want to be another person who burdened his soul with more. More suffering, more pain. His life was in service of keeping everyone else safe. And he cared nothing of the cost to his soul to do so. But you cared because you knew it would only get heavier.

“Stack need Smoke. The fools you run with need Smoke. Hell, this town might even need Smoke. But me? I don’t need Smoke. I need Elijah, the boy who picked herbs for me. The one who holds me close to his chest durin’ storms. Smoke is… He ain’t the Elijah I know.”

But as your back pressed against the rough wood panels, Red’s body boxing you in, you realized, for the first time, you needed Smoke.

Not the threat of him.

Him. And all his silent fury.

And every bit of trouble that came along with him to get out of this.

“R-Red, I was just tryin’ to help. Just tryin’-”

He grabbed your chin roughly, the shock causing every bottle in your arms to crash down at your feet. The sharp scent of liquor swarmed you both like a cloud as the liquid seeped into your shoes and splattered along the bottom of your dress.

His other hand gripped your wrist as he kissed you roughly.

“S-Stop! R-Red.”

“I bet you just need a good fuckin’. Been years since that sorry nigga left, left this good pussy. Nigga should’ve known better than to leave a sweet pussy like this unclaimed. Think it’s my turn now. Bet I can fuck you bett-”

Your eardrums could have exploded from the cacophony of pure noise cutting of Red’s drunken ranting.

Your head spun as you tried to locate the sudden shrill scream filling the tiny storage room. You did not even realize Red was no longer pressing his weight against you until you saw him clutching his knee, on the floor as crimson blood slid down his leg.

You clutched your chest for a moment, your heart pounding loudly in your ears, your eyes trained on Red’s writhing frame in a giant puddle of moonshine. Your brain felt sluggish and slow, several steps behind whatever just happened. You forced your eyes away from Red to understand. Did you need to protect yourself? Was the threat to you too? Who even shot him? That was one answer your vision could find immediately. However, your survey ended within a millisecond, your eyes landing on him.

“Smoke.” A grateful sob of relief escaped as your body sagged into the wall.

His eyes softened at the sound of your voice, the mixture of fear, panic, gratitude, and pure love.

“Y/N. Y/N!” His voice snapped you out of the chaos of the last few minutes.

He focused you. A light in dense fog.

His voice softened once your eyes flickered to his.

“You good, baby. We got you. Step over here to Stack.”

Another version of him stepped from around the corner. He pulled his hat off his head and tipped it toward you, a deadly smirk painted on his lips.

Stack.

Your brain sought to obey him, to listen to the man you loved. But your legs did not feel strong enough to move, strong enough to carry you the few steps across the room to him and Stack.

How did this happen?

How were they even here?

Why were they here?

So you simply stared at him, not fully believing they were real. Your eyes clouded with everything flooding you that demanded to be made sense of before you could move forward. There was no calm in this, leaving you paralyzed.

“Nigga just shook her up. He ain’t goin’ no where. Give her a second.”

“We ain’t got a second.” Smoke turned his attention back to you. “Y/N. Darlin’. I need you to move.”

A command. The softness in his tone disappeared as he snapped you out of your stupor. Your feet moved instinctively, scurrying around Red to reach Stack. You felt Smoke’s hand brush your hip as you got behind him. The touch simply communicated what your body and soul instinctively knew: you were safe.

Stack put a protective arm around your waist as soon as you were in his reach.

“She good, Smoke.”

“Take her. Wait outside.”

You pushed against Stack’s arm trying to drag you along as his words settled in your brain. While you were grateful Red was unable to carry out whatever plot his drunk mind concocted, you did not want him murdered for it.

In fact, you considered being shot in the kneecap a satisfactory punishment for what Red attempted, what he would not even likely remember doing in the morning. He learned his lesson and now would live with a limp for the rest of his life to show for it. Wasn’t that enough?

“W-wait, wait, wait, Smoke. He got your point. I’m okay. Let him go.”

But even as you spoke those words, you knew they did not shift his position. The murderous glimmer in his eye, his coldness, reminded you while Elijah softened for you, Smoke was not a man who bent nor one who could be softened. His decision was cast and Red’s death was as certain as sunrise the next morning. But you would not be you if you did not try. Would not be the woman he loved if you did not ask him to try something different.

You tried to push Stack’s arm off you to go to Smoke’s side but he refused to loosen his grip.

“Smoke, h-he’s just a lonely ole drunk. You gave em a limp. That's enough."

Stack chuckled. "Niggas get a limp for stealin'. This shit tho? Puttin' his hands on you?" he shook his head. "Every nigga in here know what that means."

"But it ain’t worth it. He ain't worth it. Trust me, he's just drunk... harmless. He won't bother me again."

“I am! Harmless, Smoke. You know I ain’t mean nothin’ by it. I'll leave the bitch alone for good, I swear 'fore God.”

Stack's head fell back as his barking laugh ricocheted around the room. Smoke still had not said a single word. Just fired his warning shot.

“I told you that nigga ain’t know what was good for him, Smoke. Let’s go, Y/N.”

His arm tightened around your waist to drag you out the door, clearly tired of the man’s pleas which were only serving to make his end more painful.

“Let me go, Stack!”

“So he can shoot me too? Nah girl. Unlike this nigga, I like bein’ able to fuckin' walk. Can't be a pimp like me with no a damn limp. This grown men’s business now n I know you don’t wanna see this shit. Let’s go.”

You glared at him, raising an eyebrow in a challenge, still refusing to make this easy on him.

Stack glanced at his brother for a brief moment, their silent conversation passing before Stack turned back to you.

He leaned over, whispering in your ear, “Ain’t nothin’ you say gon’ change what’s about to happen. He was dead the moment he laid a hand on you. Accept that shit, aight? Ain’t no sense in feelin’ guilty bout it either. Ain’t the first man he threw to bottom of the Mississippi for you, won’t be the last. Now come on. If it’ll help, saw some flowers on the way in. You can pick some for his homegoing’,” he offered the last bit sarcastically.

He could never hold a serious moment for long.

But you heard the empathy hiding in his harshness. A reminder that as crazy as he was, Stack still understood you and he understood Smoke, and the chasm that sometimes existed when you were confronted with the violence they perpetuated. Particularly in your name.

You spent your life attempting to mend what violence broke, what it destroyed, what often felt like inevitabilities. But you could not stop this. And he knew that as soon as he glanced at his brother. And in your heart, he knew you knew it too. And like his brother, he was trying to protect you, in his own slick talking way, absolve you from the guilt he already knew was rushing to your shores.

That was the Elias you grew up with. And as much as you two bickered like true siblings, you knew there was nothing Stack would not do for you because you loved his brother and his brother loved you.

Your eyes settled on Smoke’s profile, his eyes trained on the invisible line connecting the barrel of his gun to the space between Red’s eyes. He tore them away for one moment to look at you. Your eyes communicated a fear you’d never admit in front of Stack. You accepted Red’s fate but there was another fear, one that made it impossible to stop resisting Stack’s force.

“I’m right behind you, darlin’. I promise. Get out or he'll drag you out.”

You didn’t speak, a shaky exhale communicating everything you needed him to know. You were grateful that you had not had to ask, that he simply saw what truly ailed you. More than trying to save the life of a man who did not deserve your mercy, you were terrified to let him out of your sight. You feared that if you stepped out of this room, even for a moment, he’d disappear like smoke in the air for another eight years.

Uninterested in being hauled over the shoulder of the second most infamous man in town, you acquiesced to Stack’s firm hand on your waist, allowing him to push you out the door.

“Red, I’d say enjoy your last moments but I know my brother and… I think he gon’ enjoy ‘em a hell of a lot more than you.”

However, before he closed the door, you heard Smoke’s low voice.

“Just so we clear, this me speakin’.”

“N-No, no, no, no! Smo-”

Stack dragged you just far enough away to not to hear what you knew came next.

***

Stay tuned for part two!

A/N: No tags because it was a fight to get this up and I'm exhausted LOL but there is a part two with reader and Smoke's private reunion when they get home. Hope you enjoyed it! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought or if you'd like to be tagged in part 2!

[sinners4ever]

Master List !

Author's Note

Hello! My name is Kali -- Welcome to my Tumblr page. I began this Tumblr page around four years ago, but I dropped the hobby and my interests changed. Now, I've decided to continue writing as a hobby when I have the time.

Anywho, I just wanted to introduce myself again. There isn't much on my master list right now but I hope to add more not far into the future. This master list is going to be a work in progress.

Enjoy reading! My c.ai handle, for anyone interested: spencerrsmopbucket

Master List key:

🫀 - Angst / Possibly Unresolved

🤍 - Fluff

⛅️ - Hurt to Comfort / Resolved Angst

🫦 - Smut

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆..⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆..⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Criminal Minds:

S. Reid below !

Recovery ⛅️

When It Rains, It Pours 🤍

The Way of an Agent 🌥️🤍

Behind the Ribcage ⛅️

Polar Opposites ⛅️

A. Hotchner below !

Nothing yet...

E. Prentiss below !

Nothing yet...

D. Morgan below !

Nothing yet...

P. Garcia below !

Nothing yet...

J. Jareau below!

Nothing yet...

Harry Potter:

H. Potter below !

Nothing yet...

R. Weasley below !

Nothing yet...

D. Malfoy below !

Mirror 🤍

Pureblood Kissing 🤍

H. Granger below !

Nothing yet...

C. Diggory below !

(Un)Reciprocated ⛅️

F. Weasley below !

Another Man’s Treasure 🫦🤍

G. Weasley below !

Nothing yet...

O. Wood below !

The Party & The After Party 🫀 The Party & The After Party (2) 🫀 The Party & The After Party (3) ⛅️

Dating Oliver Wood 🤍

The Hunger Games:

P. Mellark below !

Nothing yet...

K. Everdeen below !

Nothing yet...

F. Odair below !

Tides of Venom (2) (3) (4) 🫀⛅️

Ocean Breeze 🤍

Jabberjay Calls ⛅️

No Papers Served ⛅️

H. Abernathy below !

Nothing yet...

G. Hawthorne below !

Nothing yet...

Twilight:

E. Cullen below !

Nothing yet...

B. Swan below !

Nothing yet...

The Pack below !

Fatal Attraction (1) | P. Lahote 🫀

Fatal Attraction (2) | P. Lahote 🫀

Fatal Attraction (3) | P. Lahote ⛅️

Beach Waves | J. Black 🤍

R. Hale below !

Nothing yet...

A. Cullen below !

Nothing yet...

J. Hale below !

Nothing yet...

Em. Cullen below !

Nothing yet...

Volturi below !

Fragility | Caius Volturi ⛅️

A Deadly Flower Bloomed | Caius Volturi 🤍

The Vampire Diaries:

D. Salvatore below !

Nothing yet...

S. Salvatore below !

Nothing yet...

E. Gilbert below !

Nothing yet...

J. Gilbert below !

Nothing yet...

C. Forbes below !

Nothing yet...

B. Bennett below !

Nothing yet...

K. Pierce below !

Nothing yet...

Kl. Mikaelson below !

Nothing yet...

E. Mikaelson below !

Nothing yet...

Kol Mikaelson below !

Nothing yet...

K. Parker below !

Nothing yet...

[sinners4ever]