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thebumblebeesworld · 6 days ago

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NSFW! • ALPHABET

pearline x fem reader (ft. annie)

summary: ton of gay shit—with pearline x annie x reader at the end ;)

cw: smut obviouslyyy, it’s giving service top readerrrr. pillow princess pearlineeee

a/n: this was so hard to write y’alll. i’m sorry i couldn’t do every letter smfhh. but i’ve given you the best of what i had originally :3. if y’all want an extended version of letter w, y’all better let me know!!! (i’m probably gonna do it anyway cause pearline AND annie??? at the same timeeee??? yea)

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a = aftercare

After sex, Pearline likes to lay back, listening to the soft churn of a record player and the quiet rustle of your breathing. Music eases her body, and being wrapped up in you relaxes her mind after releasing so much energy.

She enjoys running her hands through your hair as your head lays on her bosom. She loves singing and humming along to the music, letting you hear the way the sound rumbles around in her chest.

d = dirty secret

It took Pearline a while to disclose that she prefers to receive mostly—although you had picked up on that fairly early in your relationship. It seemed like you both fell into a natural rhythm of things. You’d simply derive pleasure from seeing her enjoy herself, but she wore herself thin by overthinking too much about it.

“Y/n,” Pearline urges, voice as quiet as a church mouse. She puts her hand on your arm, stopping you from trailing hot, needy kisses down the side of her neck. Y’all are in a compromising position: you on top of her naked, sweat-covered body.

“What’s wrong, babydoll,” you quip, breathing heavy from your previous actions. The apprehension in her tone immediately unsettled you, shifting your mind completely from her body laying under you and to her worried eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

“No! Of course not,” Pearline ensures, biting at her bottom lip and avoiding your gaze. “I just gotta tell you something ‘fore we continue.” Her eyes still refuse to look at you directly, so you grab her chin in a gentle grip and turn her face to you. You give her a short nod as an indication for her to continue with what she has to say.

“W-well, I,” she stumbles over her words, flinging her arms about in search of guidance, “I know we been makin’ love for a li’l bit now. An-and I enjoy every bit of it. I enjoy every bit of you.” You nod your head and hum along to show you’re listening. It’s like her words hang in the air a bit—like she’s confident in what she’s saying but doesn’t want you to feel like she’s being anything but truthful. “But I don’t really know.”

“What don’t you know, doll,” you raise your eyebrows, responding carefully to her anxiety. One of your hands slides down to her thigh, caressing her to ease that tension that has built up in her body. “I’m here with you,” you remind her. “It’s me and you.”

Her bottom lip trembles and her hands go up to shield her eyes from the sight of you. You place a kiss to her exposed collarbone just as a rush of words leave her mouth.

“Idon’tliketogiveIonlywannareceive.”

You blink twice.

Then chuckle.

“I know that, babydoll,” you laugh, smiling at her with such love. You pull her hands from her eyes and kiss the side of her face. You place a warm kiss upon her forehead then her nose and finally her pouted lips.

“You know?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “That’s usually how things go when we have sex, doll.” Pearline huffs, still pouting and eyes beginning to get heavy with tears.

“It’s not that I don’t like to fuck you, because I really do.”

“I understand,” you pause her before she can get going on a rant full of overthinking and overexplaining. You‘ve never once questioned y’all’s sex life. Things work well the way they are because that’s how it’s supposed to be. “I understand ‘cause it’s not that I don’t get pleasure from you fuckin’ me, but it’s far more pleasurable to see the way an orgasm washes over your body. To hear them pretty sounds you be lettin’ out.”

Pearline’s heart flutters, and her face flushes despite her dark skin.

“Stop it,” she swats at your naked chest, trying to push away how flustered you make her. You just smile your happy smile.

“You give me so much pleasure, baby,” you press harder. “I ain’t ever wanted more from you,” you plant kisses down her neck again, pulling her back into the sex-filled atmosphere that you previously had, “except for when I’m makin’ you cum back to back.”

e = experience

When she was married and being a good, little housewife, Pearline was naive to the world of sex. She had been kept locked away and shut in, but the day she met Sammie changed everything for her. Someone she regarded as young and naive himself had opened her up to an entirely new world, which led her to finding you, furthering the experiences she would have to learn from.

You loved watching Pearline step into her sexuality. She was so inherently sensual that if you thought about it too hard, you'd get upset thinking about how her ex-husband had treated her the entirety of their relationship. He treated her like a schoolmarm. Like a being with no needs or desires.

You committed yourself to making sure every one of her needs was met.

f = favorite position

Pearline likes you on your knees between her legs. It doesn’t matter if you’re kneeling on the bed or on the floor, as long as you’re kneeling.

“Oh, shit, baby,” Pearline cries as she attempts to hold her body up against the wall you have her pressed into. You are beneath her, knees close to caving due to the splintered wood floor. Y’all are in a spare room in Club Juke, fucking like it ain’t people walking passed the door, but you can’t seem to care much. All you want is for Pearline to ride out her pleasure and to sing her love from the rooftops when you’re done. “How yo’ tongue feel so good?”

You live for the slow drawl in her voice when you sucking on her clit just right. It’s like her tone mellows out, voice dropping an octave as she sits in that good feeling.

You’re practically gnawing at her body, nose buried in her folds as you swallow all she gives you.

“Yes,” she chants, screaming your name loudly. She’s completely forgotten the world turning outside of the small room y’all are occupying, and you like it that way.

g = goofy

Pearline loves to laugh during sex and adores when y'all talk to each other during. It helps her feel better connected to you, and it reminds her that y’all are in it together.

That you enjoy every minute of it, too.

Sometimes you nip at her thighs just to hear her honey-like sounds—a mix between laughter, moans, and music. Sometimes that’s one of your only goals: to make her body feel good and to make her laugh.

j = jack off

When Pearline realized that she could make her own self feel good, it was like the clouds had opened up. Like the heavens were shining down and singing just for her. Touching herself was like a personal freedom, a reminder that she was in control of her own body and pleasure no matter what.

Sometimes after foreplay and just before you get your hands on her body, you’ll find Pearline with her hands between her thighs. Playing with her clit while watching you undress and stalk her way. Her eyes’ll flutter in ecstasy, envisioning every possible way her body would be wrecked.

“You so beautiful,” you coo in a hushed tone, admiring the way Pearline’s nimble fingers work over her clit. She drags her hand through her folds while holding eye contact, a moan spilling from her lips.

“You want a taste, baby,” she whines. Her back arches slightly as she fingers herself, curling into her soft spot.

You don’t respond.

You climb up the bed on your hands and knees and settle your face directly in front of her open legs. You gawk—mesmerized by the sounds her pussy makes, the sweet smells coming off of her skin, and the lovely sight of her glistening folds.

Everything about your position is downright erotic.

While Pearline continues to fuck herself with a passion, she brings her other hand to circle her clit.

“Fuck, yes,” she groans deeply. You don’t stop her, enjoying that crinkle in her forehead that tells you just how good she’s feeling. Her thighs begin to tremble, and as she attempts to close them, you push them open. You watch as she cums all over her fingers, soaking her thighs and your sheets in her arousal.

Before she can fully calm down, you dive into her, seeking out every possible drop of her that you can get.

“Y/n,” Pearline screams. She tangles her hands in your hair, rutting against your face as she seeks out her second orgasm.

With the high pitch of her voice and the aggression in her movements, you can tell that she’s extremely close. All she needs is that extra push to tip her over the edge.

You dip your tongue into her entrance, fucking her as deep as your anatomy will allow. Within seconds, you feel her clutching around you. You look up to find her eyes screwed shut, her mouth wide open with no sounds escaping, and her chest, arms, and stomach flexed tightly as her orgasm finally hits her.

l = location

Something tells me she would be down with having sex anywhere—as long as there’s a door that locks or a foot to keep it shut.

w = wildcard if pearline and reader both had a thing for annie

“You ready to go, baby,” Pearline asks you, snaking her arms around your torso as you check over your reflection in the mirror. You are beyond nervous. Tonight you and Pearline are visiting Annie for a bit of wine and music. It was nothing serious; The three of you did this quite often actually, but this would be your first time being around Annie since you and Pearline confessed to each other your shared infatuation for the hoodoo woman.

It was an easy conversation for you and Pearline to have. It’s so clear how much you both adore Annie. Whenever you get the chance to be together, the three of you are gossiping, dancing at jukes, laughing at any and everything.

But you are worried that Annie might not feel how y’all do. That your friendship could be ruined.

Pearline turns your head to look at her. She analyzes the deep set look in your eyes—the uncertainty in your stance.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, y/n,” she places a gentle kiss on your lips. “Just let me handle it, ok? I already told her we had somethin’ to talk to her ‘bout.”

You step fully into her embrace, deepening your kiss ever so slightly. Pearline pulls at your clothes, tugging you closer as if you’re not pressed flush against her. She softly whimpers in your mouth as you overtake her, and you swallow every sound that leaves her.

“We gon’ be late if you keep up them sweet sounds, doll,” you admit, trying your damndest to not be pulled fully into Pearline’s orbit. But your woman so easily gets her way.

“You know you can make it quick though,” she persuades you, biting your earlobe. Her hands swiftly remove your clothes, and you let it happen, not once attempting to stop her.

You look over at the clock on the wall, contemplating how quick you can really make this.

“Get on that bed.”

“Took y’all long enough,” Annie shakes her head with a grin as she opens her front door for you. She steps to the side with a hand on her hip, eyeing you both as Pearline walks with a barely noticeable limp.

But Annie notices everything.

You watch as she lifts her eyebrow, looking over your disheveled state that you tried your best to fix before you were too late to the woman’s home.

“Mhm,” she hums. Her eyes are drawn to your neck with an amused expression. She laughs funnily.

“What,” you question, fixing your clothes nervously. “Is it somethin’ on my face or somethin’?” At this point, Pearline and Annie are both chuckling at you, trading sharp smiles and knowing eyes.

Annie walks up on you, placing two fingers under your chin and lifting your face to get a better look at you. Your breath gets caught in your throat at the way she examines you closely. The feeling of her breath on your lips makes your stomach churn softly. You see Pearline smiling wide behind Annie. She bites her lip and stares directly at Annie’s ass—unashamed.

“Look like Pearline kiss the only thang on you, love,” she practically groans, lip caught between in teeth. Annie leans into your ear. “She marked you real good.”

Annie taps your face and turns to walk away, leaving you shook and gripping at your neck like you could rub the reddening kiss mark off. Annie doesn’t spare you another glance, just strolls over to Pearline. Her walk is tantalizing and sensual.

“You said you had somethin’ to tell me, sweetheart,” Annie posits. Her eyes roam over Pearline’s frame, tracing every soft curve, every dip and groove. She leans into her, an evident hunger in the way she looks at her.

Like she’s imagining her naked.

“I, um, w-we,” Pearline trips over her words, intimidated by Annie’s dominant presence. You were nervous and intimidated before as well, but as you watch their interaction, the way Annie devours Pearline with her deep, brown eyes alone, you gain confidence.

You step behind Annie, placing a heavy hand on her waist. You whisper down her neck, sending a shiver through her body.

“You infatuate us, Ann,” you admit. “We want you. Bad.”

“Is that so,” Annie asks, resting her back flush shading your front. Her tone is coated in a ever-growing arousal. The way you grip at her waist makes her want to cave so badly.

Annie grabs Pearline’s hand, pulling her into the both of you. You meet your woman’s gaze, sending a wink her way that causes her to completely crumble. She’s unable to look at you or Annie. Her eyes are stuck to her feet, but Annie tsks at her before speaking, voice smooth and confident again:

“Come on, love. Let us see those pretty eyes.”

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taglist: comment HERE to be added!

@brownskincheyenne @bigjh @zer0productions @devonda81 @raysogroovy @terayne-4 @hdfen2474 @mbjswife @iiiheartfayee @princesstar655 @captaincalypso2 @sleepysquishe @nuttyinternetprincess @lolimblack @chrome-edition @my-name-is-h-u-m-a-n @sweetalittleselfish-honey @theegyal @known-only-by-the-insane @nanak0matsux @d1spact @thugger-wugger @voidlesslove @massiv3tr33p3rsona

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thevelvetwhispers · 5 hours ago

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Pearline x Reader — SINNERS Masterlist

@thebumblebeesworld — nsfw alphabet

@thebumblebeesworld — sun don't shine

@blckbrrybasket — divinity

#sinners 2025 #sinners movie #ryan coogler #jayme lawson #pearline sinners #pearline x reader #pearline and reader #southern gothic #southern goth aesthetic #black vampires #vampires

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gweelczz · 1 month ago

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“Into this”

Sammie x OC (Ola) x Pearlie

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: none but jealousy

Summary: Ola wants something she think she can’t have. She gets prove wrong quickly

You sat at the bar of the Smokestack juke joint watching everyone dance and laugh while you nursed a glass of whiskey. Pearline, who you had come with had disappeared with Sammie or Preacher Boy as everyone called him leaving you alone. Your eye catches them across the room dancing closely, jealousy surges through you causing your gaze to advert.

You didn’t notice them eyeing you

You gaze forward at Annie and Grace who are already staring at you with knowing looks. “Ya lookin like sum’body done kicked ya inna chest sweet pea” Annie speaks lowly while sipping her drink, Grace nudging her with a smile. “I’m ight Annie, just don’t feel like dancin” Annie immediately calls bullshit not buying it for a second. “Chile you ain’t foolin nobody. We know you want Sammie and Pealine done snatched him up”

Annie was halfway right, you wanted Sammie but you also wanted Pearline.

And now you were watching them wrapped around each other like they’d been born dancing. Sammie’s hands settled low on Pearline’s hips, her arms slung lazy around his neck, her head tilted back in a soft kind of smile that made your stomach knot up like bad rope.

The crowd around them blurred. The music slowed to something heavy and grinding, the kind that curled around your spine and made everything feel hot and too close.

They moved like they belonged together. Like there wasn’t anybody else in that juke joint but the two of them.

You tore your gaze away, quick and sharp like you’d touched a flame. Swallowed the last of your whiskey and set the glass down harder than you meant to.

Grace raised a brow, leaned in close.

“You in love, baby,” she said, soft and teasing. “Just don’t know which side of the fire you wanna stand on.”

You shot her a look, but your face betrayed you. Heat rising to your cheeks, guilt blooming behind your ribs.

“I just…” you started, but didn’t finish.

Because truth was, you knew.

You remembered the way Sammie looked at you when no one else was watching — eyes deep and heavy like he could see right through you. But Pearline… Lord, Pearline lit you up in a different way. The way she laughed with her whole body, like her joy came from something old and wild. The way her hand always found yours when the road got too dark.

And now she was up there with him, smiling, swaying, giving him a piece of herself that you weren’t sure she’d ever offered to you. Or maybe she had, and you’d been too scared to take it.

Annie leaned in, low and sharp like she was slicing truth right into you.

“You gon’ sit here n’ drown in jealousy, or you gon’ stand up and go after what you want?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Because they were still dancing — and it wasn’t just a dance anymore. It was a pull. A promise. And you were on the outside of it, heart pressed to the glass.

Then Pearline turned — just for a second — and caught your eye.

And damn if her smile didn’t change.

Softer. Sadder. Like maybe she knew exactly what you were feeling.

Like maybe she was feeling it too.

Sammie leaned in to say something in her ear, and she nodded, but her gaze lingered on you — held you there, pinned like a butterfly under glass.

You sat frozen, stomach tight, every nerve lit up. The music thumped like a second heartbeat, and the whiskey burned at the back of your throat.

Something was shifting. You felt it in your chest, in your bones.

You couldn’t tell if it was heartbreak or something worse — the kind of love that didn’t know where to land because it wanted more than it had the right to ask for.

You weren’t sure what came next.

But you knew one thing for certain.

You couldn’t sit still much longer.

The music slid into something slower, darker — a low, rolling rhythm soaked in sweat and smoke. You were still sitting there, heart thudding against your ribs, when Pearline started moving toward you.

At first, you thought it was a trick of the light. The way the haze from cigars curled through the room, the way her hips moved through the crowd like the music was stitched into her bones. But then Sammie followed behind her, his gaze locked on you like he already knew what was about to happen.

Your breath caught.

Pearline reached you first, took your hand like she’d done it a thousand times. “C’mon, Ola,” she said, voice low, near your ear. “Ain’t no point sittin’ here lookin’ like that.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but it was already too late.

Sammie was there too, tall and quiet, his hand sliding to the small of your back. You were being pulled up from the bar stool, pulled into them — into this.

You barely noticed your feet hit the floor before you were in the center of the room. Bodies swayed around you, but none of them mattered. Not when you were caught between them.

Pearline pressed her body to your front, the curves of her hips rocking slow with the rhythm, hands resting at your waist like they were home. She looked into your eyes with something unspoken — hunger, maybe. Or knowing.

And behind you, Sammie’s chest brushed your back, his palm warm and wide on your hip. You felt his breath at your ear, slow and controlled, like he was holding something in.

You didn’t know where to look. Every inch of you was burning. Pearline’s lips were close. Sammie’s hand guided your hips into the sway of the song.

They weren’t dancing with the room. They weren’t even dancing with each other anymore.

They were dancing with you.

For you.

Around you.

Pearline leaned in closer, her nose brushing yours as she whispered, “You think we don’t see you, baby? Been seein’ you.”

Your knees damn near buckled.

Sammie’s voice came low, voice like smoke and thunder. “You don’t know what you do to us.”

You felt trapped — but not in fear. Trapped in heat. In longing. In something that had lived just under the surface for too long, now finally crawling out into the light.

The three of you moved like a secret, like a prayer said in the dark. Pearline’s hand slid up your side, into your hair. Sammie’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you flush against him as Pearline tilted her forehead against yours.

You were breathless. Dizzy. Seen.

And when the music swelled, nobody else in the Smokestack mattered. Not Annie. Not Grace. Not the room full of people pretending not to watch.

Just you.

Just them.

And the fire you were all finally stepping into.

If y’all want a pt.2 with smut lemme know!

#sinners movie #sinners 2025 #sinners x reader #sinners film #sinners fanfiction #Sammie x reader x Pearline #sammie moore x reader #sammie sinners #sammie #sammie moore #Sammie preacher boy Moore #Sammie x black!reader #pearline sinners #Pearline x reader #Pearline x Sammie #Pearline x Black!reader #x black!reader #x black! reader #x black!fem!reader

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kaitlyn-imagines · 11 days ago

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Masterlist - Sinners (2025)

Work in progress — feel free to leave requests! :)

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Sammie “Preacher Boy” Moore:

(I) Easy Worship - x Churchgoer!Reader (fluff)

Elijah “Smoke” Moore:

(H) Who’s Touching You Now? (spice)

(H) Annie x Smoke as Parents to Reader (horror, fluff)

Elias “Stack” Moore:

(H) Who’s Touching You Now? (spice)

(I) Your Words Just Hypnotize Me - x 90s!Reader (nsfw)

(H) Mary x Stack as Parents to Reader (horror, fluff)

Remmick:

(H) How the Hive Mind Works

Pearline:

Mary:

(I) Your Words Just Hypnotize Me - x 90s!Reader (nsfw)

(H) Mary x Stack as Parents to Reader (horror, fluff)

Annie:

(H) Annie x Smoke as Parents to Reader (horror, fluff)

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thecontortionistsportal · 1 month ago

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oh to be in between Remmick and Pearline 🛐🙏

#BOAF #I’m so sorry Sammie I need your gf so bad #THEYRE SO FINE DAWG #remmick x reader #pearline x reader #pearline #pearline sinners #remmick #remmick sinners #my post

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localfanficlover · 1 month ago

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I’ve got my Sammie drabble I’m almost done with, and I’m planning on doing a Bo Chow one next. I would love y’all’s request for stories and different characters that you’d wanna see!

It’s out y’all

#sinner 2025 #smoke x reader #stack x reader #Mary x reader #Annie x reader #Pearline x reader #Remmick x reader #Bo chow x reader #vampires #drabble #one shot #sinners x reader #smoke fanfic #smoke and stack

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jukesjoint · 10 days ago

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i have two fics i wanna write but they’re the same font just different characters (smoke and pearline). would anyone be interested in that lmao

#pearline #pearline sinners #smoke #smoke sinners #smoke x reader #pearline x reader #like i wrote the first one w smoke #under the guise of like i can’t reproduce this w anyone else #i was WRONG #idk what to do but fuck it it’s pride month

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twistedsistas-stuff · 22 days ago

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R&B Breakups

Sammie Moore x Reader Modern Au

Warnings :Makeup smex- uh angst cause it’s me. Reconciliation? (I’m bad at warnings yall please bear with me) messy stack

You’d heard Sammie’s name before — mostly ‘cause of his cousins, them wild-ass Moore twins and that baby record label they got. Folks said he was church-bred, sang in the choir ‘fore he dipped out with his cousins to chase the dream. That’s where that name came from. Preacher Boy. Fit a little too well, considering the way he sang like salvation and rapped like sin.

He had a voice, though. No doubt. Those old clips on his socials? Whew. He ain't sing like his cousins, and they damn sure ain’t rap like him. You remember thinkin’ it was wild — a PK talkin’ nasty on a track like that. But then again, he a Moore. So.

You was up first — body gliding across that stage like smoke on glass. That other dude was rappin’ next to you, but Sammie ain’t hear a word. He was watchin’ you. The way you moved. The way you smiled mid-note and locked eyes with him like, Yeah, I see you too. Left the stage with a little wave like it was just another Tuesday.

Headed to the back where the Moores were posted up like royalty in a hallway too tight for all that ego. And then one of the twins stepped dead in your path.

“Whoa there, pretty thing. Where you rushin’ off to?”

You blinked hard. Couldn’t tell which one it was — Stack or Smoke. Identical and your high ass wasn’t helpin’ either.

“Uhhh... Smo–Stack... which one are you?”

He laughed loud, hand hittin’ his chest like you told the funniest joke of the year. “This Stack, baby. The cute one.”

You smirked, eyes rollin’ like dice. “Well, Stack... I don’t think we got any business, do we?”

You tried to slide past but he eased in your way again.

“Nah, but I ain’t here for me.”

That made you pause. You tilted your head, brows up. “Tell Smoke the same thing.”

Stack gave you that look. That girl, come on now look.

“What do you want, Stack?” you asked, dead in his face.

His grin widened like he had a secret. “Sammie wanna talk to you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well, just like you found me, Sammie can too. Hmmm?”

You patted his cheek and kept walkin’, hips talkin’ louder than your mouth. But truth be told? You damn near sprinted to the dressing room. Checked your face, fixed your hair, heart doin’ a whole beat set in your chest.

Knock knock.

You froze, whispered “shit” to yourself, then pulled the door open.

There he was. Preacher Boy Moore.

Tall, golden-brown with them locs pulled back just enough to see that smooth-ass hairline. He had a guitar slung on his back, biceps flexin’ like he meant to remind you he could hold more than notes.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He chuckled low. “I said... you told me to come find you. So I did.”

Took a second to process that. Took longer to accept this man was real and talkin’ to you and not one of them thirsty lil girls he sang about.

“That’s ‘cause you sent a walkin’ STD to find me,” you said, turning back toward the couch.

Door shut behind him. He leaned on it like it was part of his act.

“My cousin clean,” he said, laughin’ through it. “Y’all just don’t like his lyrics.”

You smirked. “I don’t like that he got lyrics about every woman in three zip codes.”

He stepped closer. “I ain’t like them dudes, you know.”

You tilted your chin. “Coulda fooled me.”

Didn’t say nothin’ else — just stared like he was seein’ through your whole outfit. That made you shift in your seat.

“What, Preacher Boy?”

He grinned. “Come watch me perform, baby.”

“Boy, I ain’t your baby.”

“You could be.” He stepped in, hand hittin’ your waist real gentle. “I’d treat you reaaaall good... if you let me.”

His fingers rose to your chin, all slow and tender like he was tryna ease you into a spell.

You was already caught. He knew it. He planned it.

“Come on,” he said, slidin’ his fingers through yours.

You wasn’t gonna go, at first.

Was gon’ head home, roll up, forget the way he smelled. That clean-sweat cologne and old incense aura. The way his voice dipped when he called you baby like he meant it. But by the time you hit the sidewalk, you was already textin’ your homegirl like:

"bitch... I think I just met my husband lol"

She texted back:

"U BETTA GET HIS FINE CHOIR-BOY LOOKIN ASS PREGNANT THEN 💅🏾"

Fifteen minutes later, you was back inside, leanin’ in a booth near the stage, and Sammie was up there talkin’ ‘bout, “This next one’s for somebody real special.”

You rolled your eyes so hard they nearly popped out.

Stack caught you doin’ it and laughed from across the room.

But when Sammie sang?

Shit.

You ain’t roll nothin’ after that. Just sat there quiet, chin in your hand like a teenager with a crush, watchin’ his mouth shape every damn word like it was yours to memorize.

He didn’t look at nobody else. Not once. Not the girls screamin’ his name. Not the aunties blowin’ kisses from the back. Just you. Like the whole room fell away.

That night, he ain’t ask for your number.

He gave you his. Told you to hit him when you was ready for the real thing.

You waited three days. On purpose. Then you hit him up with just a 👀 emoji.

His response?

“Bout damn time.”

When y’all linked up it wasn’t even supposed to happen.

You was on FaceTime. Choppin’ it up ‘bout old music, ghosts, exes, the church. He was on the road — some baby tour in Little Rock or Baton Rouge. You was laid across your bed in a tank top, bonnet half-on, half-slid to the side.

He was shirtless. Gold chain catchin’ the motel lamplight, locs loose around his shoulders. He started talkin’ low, voice scratchy, like he been smokin’ or singin’ all day.

“Whatchu wearin’?” he asked, already smirkin’.

You looked dead at the screen. “Boy, you see what I got on.”

“Yeah, but what’s under it?”

You tilted your phone just enough to give him somethin’.

Not everything. Just enough.

His eyes dropped. Lips parted like he was gon’ pray. Or sin. Maybe both.

“Come here,” he said.

You laughed. “I’m three states away.”

“I don’t give a damn.”

That man sent a Lyft, a Cash App, and his hotel room number within five minutes.

And you? Packed a weekend bag like your name wasn’t nowhere on that lease.

Yall got close REALLL close so after that night you thought maybe — just maybe — this could be it.

Sammie walked different after y’all hooked up. Spoke softer, texted quicker. You weren’t somebody he was entertaining. You were it. Least, that’s how it felt when he pulled you into his arms at baggage claim, when he posted you with no caption like he ain’t have to explain shit to nobody.

And you ain’t press him about the DMs. About the whispers, the girls with they side eyes and slick tweets. You let it go. 'Cause he looked at you like you mattered. 'Cause you wanted to believe he was different from his cousins.

Different from the Moore boys who treated love like a punchline in a verse.

Stack noticed it first.

“Damn,” he said, grinning, twisted blunt between his fingers. “You really cuffed, huh?”

Sammie just smirked, focused on tunin’ his guitar.

Stack laughed again. “You ain’t been out with us since Houston. You in love or somethin’?”

“I’m chillin’, bro.”

“You actin’ like you scared to slip up.”

“I don’t wanna slip up.”

Stack rolled his eyes. “You actin’ like we back in church.”

That got Sammie’s attention. He looked up. Eyes darker.

“I ain’t no saint,” he said, “but I ain’t stupid either. I know what I got.”

Stack shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Cool. Just don’t let her turn you soft. Bitches love soft n***as... until they don’t.”

Sammie ain’t respond. Just shook his head, focused back on his strings.

But the words stuck. That’s how Stack worked. He ain’t push hard — just enough to leave a crack.

You flew home two days later. Left him with that kiss that lingered, that “I love you” whispered half-sleep into his chest.

You went back to your place. Lit your sage. Put on some Erykah. Started back recording, hummin’ little verses into your phone like maybe this time, love was gon’ be the one to hold you.

He texted. He FaceTimed. Called you “mama” in that lazy, slow drawl that made your knees twitch. Sent you pics from soundcheck. Some nights he was too tired to talk, but he’d still text, "I miss you next to me.”

And for a moment, you felt safe.

Until Saturday.

You were laid up on your couch, bonnet on, roller on the floor, your comfort playlist goin’ when your phone buzzed so hard it slid off the armrest.

Dozens of notifications. Your homegirl texted:

“bitch get off the internet now 💔”

Then:

“I’m so sorry I ain’t wanna be the one”

Your stomach dropped. Cold spread slow.

You opened Instagram.

Right there. Big, bold letters:

@theshaderoom “Preacher Boy or Player? 👀 Sammie Moore seen in ATL last night gettin’ real cozy with someone who def ain’t his ‘main thang’ 👇🏾”

You clicked.

There he was.

In the club.

Sweat glistening on his neck. Lips at some girl’s ear. Hands on her hips. Rockin’ with her from behind like he was keepin’ rhythm with her heartbeat.

Her dress was red. Her smile smug.

You paused the video. Just stared.

Your whole body went still.

You ain’t call him. Not at first.

You waited. An hour. Then two. Then six.

He finally texted at 3:12 AM:

“I’m sorry.”

That’s it.

No explanation. No lie. No voice memo. Just those two damn words. Like sorry could wipe the image of his hands off another woman’s waist.

Like sorry could shut your DMs up, stop your mama from texting asking if “everything okay between y’all.”

You typed a long message. Deleted it. Typed another. Deleted that one too.

Finally you wrote:

“Don’t worry about it.”

And turned your phone over.

Two weeks passed. Fourteen whole days of silence — but not peace. Not when every app still knew his name. Not when every scroll felt like salt.

Sammie had been calling. Texting. Emailing even. Sent voice notes through people you ain’t even follow no more. You blocked him on Instagram, Twitter, TikTok. You turned off read receipts. You turned off your feelings.

You ain’t owe him a response, and he knew that. But he kept trying anyway. Then it happened again.

Not from TheShadeRoom this time. Nah — one of them side accounts. ShaderoomTeens. Petty, messy, loud as hell.

Your homegirl tagged you before you even saw the post.

@shaderoomteens Artist Sammie Moore spotted with mystery woman in new video 👀

Being a PK, gotta know that he sinning right now, right? Right? He’s known to be in a relationship, even have a few cute collabs. #DoBetter #CheatingRoomies #WhatSheGonDo

You just stared.

No way this was happening to you. Not again.

Hand trembling, you tapped the comments. Shouldn’t have. But you did.

They tore you up.

“What she expect messin’ with a Moore lol “His whole bloodline allergic to loyalty” “Girl just sing and move on 🙄” “He was too fine to keep anyway, sorry not sorry”

Some took pity. Said they felt for you. That made you angrier.

You weren’t a damn victim. You knew who you were dealing with. But you let your guard down. Let him kiss away the doubt. Let him hold your face and promise he wasn’t like them. Swipe.

Next slide?

A still from your first video together. You and Sammie, forehead to forehead, laughing between takes. He had you by the waist. You looked so happy.

Your chest cracked open.

Not a little.

Not manageable.

That deep, whole-body kind. The kind that live in your bones. The kind your mama warned you about when she said “don’t love no man more than you love your damn self.”

Your phone rang. Him.

That same picture flashing up as his contact photo — it made you sick now. You declined.

Then it was Stack. Then Smoke.

Like clockwork. Every hour. Every day.

You ignored them all.

You weren’t bitter. You were hurt. That was the thing. You weren’t even mad at first. You were just gutted. And when that hurt started to rot in your chest, it grew teeth. Turned to something mean.

You wanted him to hurt, too. Just like you did.

That’s when your group chat rang. FaceTime. The real ones.

You stared at the green button. Then pressed it.

Your face hit the screen.

Blank. Skin dull. Eye bags deep and designer.

“Hey girl... we just checkin’ on you, how are you?”

“Yeah, that nigga ain’t shit.”

“What you wanna do?”

They all talked at once, like they’d been waiting to catch you before you fell too far.

You swallowed. Voice small.

“I’m still hurt, y’all... I really wanna beat his ass but I can’t bring myself to fight over a man.”

“You better than me,” one said.

“HELLO?!” another yelled. “Ass woulda been BEAT.”

You cracked a smile. Then a laugh. Shook your head slow.

“I know, y’all. I know.” You looked down, then up.

“Right now... I just wanna be distracted. Not by a nigga. Just wanna have fun.”

They waited. Let you say it.

You leaned closer.

“Shots and studio time?” Head tilting.

“OH BITCH YESS.”

“We makin’ a diss. Yep. Let’s gooo!”

You laughed loud — loud enough to rattle the stillness in your chest.

This was why you answered. They knew how to scoop you off the floor without making it feel like rescue.

“Aight. I’m finna get cute and get ready. Y’all do the same. I’ll send the address.”

You hung up. Headed for the shower.

Steam filled the room slow, thick as your thoughts. You stood under the water long. Let it drip from your lashes. Let it drown the ache.

Music. That was your safe place. Your weapon. Your church.

You thought about him — not just the man but the moment. What he could’ve been thinking. What made him fold.

Was it the club? The women? The spotlight? Or was it just him?

You weren’t stupid. You weren’t naïve. You knew what came with fame. With fine niggas raised in families that never taught 'em how to love without hurting somebody first.

You dried off. Got dressed.

Sat at your vanity. Lip gloss, lashes, liner. Your armor.

Just as you were about to press play on your playlist—

Your phone lit up again.

No Caller ID.

It swirled around your screen like a warning.

Your breath caught. What if someone leaked your number? People were crazy these days. You froze for a beat. Then exhaled.

You answered.

You put the phone to your ear. Didn’t say nothin’ at first.

But then—his voice.

“…Hey.”

Quiet. Raspy. Like it hadn’t been used right in days. Like he ain’t slept either.

You closed your eyes. That tone—it didn’t make you feel bad for him. But it did make your chest tighten. ‘Cause no matter how mad you was, it still hurt to hear him sound like that.

You didn’t say nothin’, just waited.

“I ain’t even gon’ lie to you… I fucked up,” he breathed. “I know what it look like, I do. I just…”

His voice cracked just a little.

“I was drunk. Stack was hypin’ me up, talkin’ ‘bout ‘one dance ain’t gon’ kill nothin.’ Then Smoke started pushin it too, sayin’ I needed to ‘remind the crowd who I was’ or some dumb shit…”

You opened your mouth and closed it again. Your stomach churned. “So you did all that... for them?”

He went quiet.

You leaned forward in your chair, voice cold and clipped. “You mean to tell me you disrespected me—embarrassed me—for some damn cousin validation?”

He exhaled, frustrated. “It ain’t like that—”

“Oh, it ain’t?” you snapped. “You the same man who had me scared to even post you ‘cause I didn’t want the internet in our business. Now you all up in the club tryna be seen, tongue damn near down some girl throat—for what? To look like Smoke?”

“She ain’t even kiss me—”

“Boy, don’t play with me,” you said, voice cracking. “You already played in my face enough.”

Sammie sighed heavy, like he didn’t even have the strength to fight. “I ain’t tryna argue. I just… I miss you, baby. I ain’t slept right since you stopped answerin’.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, makeup half-done, your gloss untouched. You shook your head.

“You wanna act like them niggas, go be with them niggas,” you muttered, trying to stay calm. “I loved you for you, Sammie. Not for who you was tryna impress.”

“I ain’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered.

“But you did.”

Silence. The kind that says everything.

You checked the clock. “I gotta go.”

“Wait—”

Click.

You let the phone fall on the vanity and stared at your reflection.

This niggas really had you thinking he was different.

But a Moore gon’ Moore.

The studio was already buzzing by the time y’all got there—neon lights low, incense burning in the corner, and bass leaking out the booth like it had a mind of its own.

Your girls followed behind you, all heels and hair and ready-for-war energy.

Soon as y’all walked in, Dre, your producer, spun around in his chair, noddin’ like he already knew the vibe. “Got somethin’ dark cued up. I heard the rumors. Figured you’d want blood on the track tonight.”

You smirked. No lies detected.

Y’all got settled—liquor got poured, joints got lit—and the girls crowded around the couch while you kicked off your shoes and leaned back.

“So,” one of them asked, her eyes sharp, lashes thick. “Did he call?”

You nodded slow, licking your lips before answering. “Yeah.” They all leaned in.

“What he say?” “Chile what?” “I know he ain’t try play victim—”

You sighed nodding , pushing your hair back. “Said it was Stack and Smoke. That they got in his head. Said he was drunk and just tryna prove somethin’.”

They all looked at each other, then back at you, faces twisted like somebody farted.

“Nahhh, see, now I’m mad all over again,” your best friend snapped. “He risked all this—” she gestured at you like you were plated gold, “—for some cousin clout?”

Another girl scoffed, twisting the top off the Casamigos. “And that lil girl in the video? I know she know who you are. Y’all been hella public.”

“For real,” someone else chimed in.

“Y’all did that couple interview for Level Up, had folks screamin’ ‘#RelationshipGoals’ and all that. How she actin’ brand new?”

You shook your head, lips pressed tight.

Then the beat dropped.

It was dark. Angry. Heavy bass, low piano, something sinister underneath like a heartbeat turnin’ sour. You stopped talking.

“Dre…” you said, standing up slow. “Run that back.” He looped it, and the speakers trembled like they were mad too.

You walked toward the mic, paused with your hand on the booth door. “Y’all remember when I first said I loved him?”

They nodded, quiet now.

“Right here,” you said. “In this studio. he pulled me close, said, ‘Damn, I love you girl. I hope you know that.’ And I said it back. Just like that. Whole room smelled like weed him looking at me with them damn eyes.” “That was the first time.” Your voice cracked a little.

“I really thought…” You trailed off. Then shook your head. “Nah. Fuck that.”

You turned back around, picked up a shot glass from the console.

“To dumb bitches,” you said. “May we never be her again.” They all cheered. Glasses clinked. You threw it back. It burned, but not worse than this heartbreak.

Then you stepped into the booth, pulled the headphones on, and closed your eyes.

The beat kicked in again, your voice slid out raw.

All that hurt, rage, betrayal—it spilled into the mic like venom dressed in velvet.

And by the time the track ended… history was made.A hit. A warning. A reminder.

He played in the wrong girl’s face.

Sammie’s sprawled across the couch, scrolling through his phone with dead eyes and clenched teeth. That green bubble on your story stays glowing. Every loop of the video hits him harder.

Stack lounges nearby, dipping room service wings in ranch, TV humming low with a muted basketball game. Smoke’s in the corner on FaceTime with Annie, cracking up about something unrelated, but every so often his eyes slide back to Sammie, watching him stew.

Sammie spoke first voice laced with disbelief. “She made the whole damn thing about me.”

Stack laughed throwing his head back with a lil snort“She made a Billboard hit about your ass. Congrats, heartbreak muse of the year.”

Smoke leaned forward, FaceTime forgotten “What she say again? ‘You gone be with tupac when I come blow up that studio…’ somethin’ like that?”

Sammie shook his head muttering ‘Yeah. That’s about me fasho”

Smoke spoke through a laugh  “She in the booth talkin’ like she the Don, bro. That energy hit different when it’s personal.”

Stack spoke mouthfull with his greedy ass “She out-rappin’ you and outsellin’ you. How’s it feel to get dissed on beat and make her rich?”

Sammie looks at him fast as fuck  “You think this funny?”

 Stack shrugged “A lil’ bit. - “But nah. I get it. She got her lick back. You was in love and fumbled. Ain’t nothin’ new.”

Smoke nodded towards Stack “Like he can talk. Every time he catch feelings, he ghost like he doin’ a magic trick. That girl from Baton Rouge still lightin’ candles for him.

Stack pointed at his twin smirk on his face “Difference is, I ain’t lie to nobody face about bein’ solid. I told her I was no good.”

 “I didn’t lie. I just... I listened to y’all. Let myself get stupid. Tried to play it like I didn’t care when I did.” Sammie spoke looking between the two.

Stack just shrugged his shoulders “You grown, bro. Don’t blame us.”

Sammie swipes again. Next slide.

It’s a video. Your laugh, low and breathy. A flash of your legs, draped over someone else’s lap. A hand—light-skinned, casual, resting on your thigh like it belonged there.

Sammie sat up so fast he almost got vertigo.

“ Them ain’t my hands”

Stack grabbed the phone squinting “That’s not any of our hands.”

Smoke laughed “She out here living soft life. Passenger princess with a new driver.”

One thing sammie hated about these niggas they always had jokes for the wrong occasions. “Nah. That’s my -

Smoke spoke fast cutting him off “Was. She was your girl. Now you just the beat behind a Billboard single.”

Sammie stands, grabbing his keys off the side table. No hesitation.

He speaks low “Fuck this.”

This catches Stacks eye

“Where you goin’?”

Sammie snapped voice angry and sharp

“To my girl nigga”

He slams the door behind him. Silence.

Smoke pops a fry in his mouth, eyes still on the door. “Look what you did.”

Stack just shrugs, licking sauce off his fingers. “If every clover had four leaves they wouldn’t be lucky now would it”

You and your girls are splayed across couches, floor pillows, and a fuzzy throw rug—glasses half-full of rosé from brunch still sweating in your hands. Laughter fills the space, soft R&B spinning low from the speaker.

Someone’s talking about their sneaky link, someone else is scrolling through TikTok showing funny edits of your song. You’re halfway paying attention… until your phone buzzes again.

Your friends speak up hearing it too “Girl, who is blowin’ you up like that?”

You flip the screen toward them. “Sammie. Again. I been ignoring him all week and now he wanna be consistent?”

They lean in. Another buzz. A message pops up

Peekay : Answer or I’m comin’ right in that mf house.

You hold the phone up, jaw dropped. They scream.

 “Oh he real bold—he must really miss you.”

 “Or he real crazy. Ain’t nobody told him we deep in here?”

Just then, another call. FaceTime. His name lit up bold. Your thumb hesitates.

 “Y’all shut up.”

You answer. His face fills the screen—eyes red, jaw tight, lips pressed in that pout you used to kiss when he got like this.

He spoke serious, voice low “Sit the phone up.” 

“…Why?

He sat up readjusting in his seat. “Just sit it up. Let me see.”

You sigh, propping it on a candle jar. Your girls dip out of frame fast like trained soldiers.

He waited his eyes flicking around the background looking for something , you don’t know what “So… ain't no light-skin dude in there imma have to beat the fuck out of right?

You blinked hard

“What?”

He looked at you plainly “You heard me.”

You glance behind the phone—your girls looking shook, mouths open, frozen in place.

You spoke slow, annoyed “There’s nobody here. And even if there was, you don’t get to ask that. I don’t question the girls you been with, apparently.”

Sammie spoke instantly, eyes hard “I ain’t been with nobody but you. Don’t play with me.”

You tilted your head, voice sharp “Play with you? Oh you mean like how you played with me when you let Smoke and Stack gas your ego till you blew up everything we had?”

Silence. His throat works like he wants to say something but can’t.

You spoke final, icy “Don’t FaceTime me with that jealous boyfriend energy when you wasn’t You hang up.

The room’s quiet for a second, the air thick with disbelief soft  “…Did he say light-skin with tats?” “He remembered the hand! This man really clockin’ your stories like it’s his job.”

Sammie’s parked a few houses down, low in the seat, window cracked. His phone’s still glowing in his lap from where you hung up. His jaw ticks. His chest rises, falls. He don’t move at first. Just stares at your contact. Then his fingers move.

Leave it open.

He tosses the phone onto the passenger seat, flips the radio up loud—some old Boosie track—and sparks the blunt he’d rolled on the drive over. Leaning back in the seat, smoke curling from his lips, he watches the house like it’s breathing.

You and your girls are still downstairs, hollering. “Nah, that nigga is unhinged. You really broke him!”

You laughed , mocking him “‘Ain’t no light-skin dude in there with no tats?’ Boy, worry about your own tattoos.”

Y’all fall out laughing again. Then ping. You glance down. It’s him

Leave it open.

Your friends all look at you eyes wide “Oh my God.” “He outside. I know that energy.”

 “Bitch, what do I say?!” You say looking back and forth between them

They all start talking at once, pure chaos: “Say your man just pulled up.” “Tell him the door already open—let him come see!” “Ooooh text something spicy! You know he hate that.”

You nod, fingers flying across the screen.

It’s unlocked anyway. My man will be here soon. Send.

You toss the phone on the couch and throw your head back. “Amen.” “Amen!!”

They scream and cheer, clutching their chests like it’s church.

 “You gon’ die. But you gon’ die legendary.” “Upstairs, now! We gotta get you ready. Just in case he come in here on demon time.”

They usher you up the stairs like you headed to war, grabbing gloss, edge control, and a fresh hoodie from your closet. Your heart beats wild behind your ribs—not

scared, just… alive.

Your bestie speaks smiling while doing your edges. “Smile if you bout to ruin a man’s whole ego tonight.”

You smirk in the mirror. Below the window, a familiar engine cuts.

He’s coming in. You can feel it in your bones.

You’re fresh, feeling like a whole mood with your girls beside you—hair laid, gloss popping, outfit on point. You unlock the door and swing it open.

Sammie is already there, standing firm, hands down by his sides. No anger in the way he raises them, just presence. His eyes lock on you first—hard, serious, and something else you can’t name right away. Then he shifts his gaze to your girls. 

“Wassup y’all.”

Your girls nod respectfully, eyes flicking back to you, silently saying, What now?

You just stand there, taking him in. Mad as hell, yeah. But damn… the way he looks—head to toe in black, gold chains catching the streetlight, that little flash of grill shining when he parts his lips—it’s hard not to soften.

You know he fucked up. But maybe… just maybe, there’s a fix here.

Suddenly, one of your friends clears her throat sharply. You blink, shaking off the moment, and glance at them. “Bye, y’all. Be safe.”

They nod and slip quietly down the steps, leaving you and Sammie alone.

He looks past you, eyes scanning the house like sizing it up “Come on.”

He nods toward the door.

You hesitate—then step inside before your brain can catch up.

He closes the door behind you with a soft click and locks it.

Your heart skips. 

Yo, man would be here soon ? Nah. His ass here now.

Sammie gestures toward the couch.

“Come sit with me.”

You walk over first, careful. He watches every step like he’s memorizing you. You settle on the edge of the couch, keeping space between you—safe distance.

He scoots closer, voice low but commanding. “Quit actin’ scary. Come here.”

You shift, inching your leg closer—now touching his. Your heart skips. It’s been a minute, and that tiny buzz starts crawling up your spine. He pulls his hood off, revealing that sharp, tired look in his eyes. Leaning forward, elbows on knees, eyes heavy-lidded but steady on you.

 “I know I messed up, baby. I did everything you told me not to.”

His hand moves slowly, settling on your leg. You tense for a second, then relax as he straightens his back a little. “I did that shit... bein’ childish. Tryna get approval from two lonely mfs.”

You let out a quiet laugh—half disbelief, half relief.

 “I won’t ever do no shit like that again, baby. I can promise you. I’m sorry.”

He opens his arms slightly, inviting but vulnerable

You meet his eyes, voice steady but serious. “I believe you... but don’t make me have to get outta character, Samuel.”

Your fingers twitch, lightly grabbing his gold chain hanging around his neck. The weight of it feels real—like a reminder. Sammie catches the movement, a flicker of both surprise and respect crossing his face.

He tightens his grip on your leg just a bit, his jaw clenched but his eyes soft. “I ain’t gonna make you do nothin’ you don’t want, baby. I’m here... real this time.”

You don’t pull your hand away from his chain. Instead, you let your fingers linger, a silent test — how much does he really mean it? The room feels smaller somehow, just the two of you and the hum of the city outside.

Sammie leans in a little, voice dropping even lower. “ I done been stupid, but I’m tryin’ to be better — for us, for me. Ain’t just words this time. I’m done lettin’ other people mess with what we had.”

You study him, the weight in his eyes pulling at something inside you. A soft part you’d been trying to guard. “That part of me? When I say ‘get outta character,’ I mean it. don’t want that.”

He smiles then — not the cocky grin, but the kind that reaches his eyes. “Good. ‘Cause I ain’t tryin’ to fight you. Just wanna be right where I belong.”

You shuffle closer, legs brushing, breaths mingling.

You narrow your eyes, the tension thick now. “If you ever — and I mean ever — pull some dumb shit like that again? I’ma beat your ass, then Smoke’s, then Stack’s for hyping you up.”

He throws his head back, laughing. “Damn, all three of us? You on a mission.”

But that smile fades fast.

His eyes lock onto yours, voice low and solid now.”So who’s the nigga?”

Your breath catches. “What?”

He leans in slightly “Don’t play with me. Who. Is. The. Nigga?”

You hesitate. Your girls’ plan echoing in your mind. A distraction. A game. But the heat in his gaze ain’t playful — it’s boiling.

 “Just… some dude.”

He tilts his head slow, like he can see straight through you.”Some dude?”

You nod, swallowing.

He leans back now, arms stretched wide across the couch, legs open, looking fine as hell and dangerous with it. You wish he didn’t look that good — this would be easier.  “So how long you known this dude?”

You look away, nerves buzzing. You answer low, a whisper really. “A year.”

Before you can breathe again, his hand’s on your chin — not rough, but firm. He tilts your face to his, eyes burning through yours. “Say it like you mean it. All that muttering and guessing shit? Pissing me off.”

Your cheeks heat beneath his touch. Your heart races.

 “That girl in the club? A mistake. Drunk. Ain’t even mean nothin’. But you? You doing stupid shit with a clear head. And that’s different.”

You pull back a little, voice rising with your anger. “A mistake? Boy, fuck you. I was hurt! I ain’t no damn robot, Sammie.”

He lets go of your face, rubbing both hands down his own, exhaling like he’s trying not to snap.  “I know that, baby… but come on now. That dude been all up under your posts, sending you eyes, hearts… You ain’t say nothin’?”

You rolled your eyes “I don’t have to, Sammie. You not my daddy. Go worry about your mystery bitch. Don’t come in here tryna check me like you been loyal. I should beat your ass my damn self.”

You shoot to your feet, voice raised, hand on your hip, heat rolling off you in waves.

He stands up slow, towering, unbothered, staring at you like you’re the only thing in the room.

 “Come on then. You bad? Beat my ass.”

You was yellin' now, voice climbin’ with every breath.

“You think just ‘cause you showed up, I’m s’posed to forget all that shit? You think I don’t feel none of this? That I don’t dream 'bout you, cry 'bout you, bleed for you, Sammie?”

He took it. Standin’ there in all black like the funeral you never got to have for what y’all used to be. You stepped forward and pushed at his chest with an open palm. He ain’t move. You did it again—harder this time. Then again. His gold chain swayed with each shove.

“Fuck you, Sammie,” you spit, eyes full and wild.

He caught your wrist the moment your hand flew up toward his face. You watched his jaw lock, tongue pokin’ into his cheek, breath pullin’ heavy through his nose like he was tryna stop from blackin’ out. That look alone could’ve burned your clothes off, but you was too mad to care.

“Fuck me?” he said low, still holdin’ your wrist. His voice ain’t rise—but the heat in it made you pause.

“Yeah,” you said louder, chest heavin’. “Fuck you.”

He nodded slow, grip loosening as he let your arm fall.

“You better watch how you fuckin talkin’ to me,” he said, voice steel-hard. “And if you bold enough to say it, you better be bold enough to make good on it.”

You turned, walkin’ fast toward the bedroom. You ain’t know if you wanted to scream into a pillow or tear the sheets up. You ain’t even hear his footsteps, but you felt him right behind you—tall shadow heat pressin’ close.

“Sammie, fuck you. I hate you nigga deadass. You ain’t shit. Just like the rest of ‘em. Dirty. A liar. I don’t know why I thought you was different. Why I thought you’d love me for real.”

That stopped him cold in the hallway.

You could feel it—the shift.

Then you felt him.

A hand closin’ ‘round your wrist, pullin’ you back, pressin’ you up against the wall in one smooth motion. His palm came up, firm ‘round your throat—not squeezin’ too tight, just holdin’ you in place.

You looked up into eyes that was all storm and no light.

“I know I fucked up,” he said, voice rough. “I been sayin’ that like a broke damn record. But don’t you ever stand here and act like I ain’t never loved you.”

His grip tightened just a little. A soft gasp left your lips. Your smaller hand came up, fingers restin’ over his.

“I love you more than anybody ever could. But you think that give you the right to hit me, disrespect me, throw my name in the dirt like I ain’t bled for you too?”

You swallowed hard, breath catchin’.

“I’m gon’ show you,” he murmured, voice low but heavy. “By the time I’m done, you gon’ feel all the shit I been carryin’. All of it.”

Then he stepped back, hand slidin’ away slow, lettin’ you breathe again. You stayed there, chest risin’ and fallin’, vision blurry—but not from tears this time. From how hot the air between y’all had gotten.

He tilted his head toward the bedroom door.

You was still breathin’ hard when he locked that bedroom door, slow and sure. Always did that. Said it made his nerves settle knowin’ he was closed in with just you.

“Sit down,” he said again, voice low but thick now, dark like syrup.

You ain’t move right away. You just stood there, lips still tinglin’, chest tight, still hearin’ him say he loved you like it was a vow and a warning all at once.

“I said,” he took two steps forward, slow and solid, “sit down, baby.”

You ain’t know if it was the way his gold caught the low light, or the way his drawl wrapped around that word “baby” like he’d never stopped sayin’ it, but your knees moved on their own. You sank onto the edge of the bed, hands in your lap, eyes trackin’ him like prey.

He came closer, pulled his hoodie off, chain swingin’, his whole chest breathin’ deep like he was tryin’ to hold back somethin’ fierce. He stood in front of you, thumb and two fingers slid under your chin, tilted your face up.

“ you hate me,” he murmured, brows pullin’ together just a little. “Say it again.”

You opened your mouth, but nothin’ came. Your lips quivered, jaw tight. He looked down at you, real slow, takin’ you in. His hand moved—thumb draggin’ across your bottom lip, just enough pressure to make you tremble.

“That what we on now?” he asked, voice even. “Hatin’ each other?”

You shook your head slow, breath catchin’.

“Nah,” he said, lettin’ go and standin’ tall again, lookin’ down at you like he already knew. “You mad, yeah. Hurt. But hate? That ain’t in you, not for me.”

You couldn’t deny that. Didn’t want to. He leaned down, mouth close to your ear now, lips just brushin’.

“Gone lay back, baby. Let me make it right.”

You hesitated. He waited. Then you did it, breath shaky as your spine hit the sheets.

He peeled his shirt off slow, belt next, every movement deliberate. He wasn’t in no rush. You watched him like a storm was comin’. And it was.

He climbed over you, arms on either side of your head, breath fannin’ across your neck. His voice was lower now, Southern syrup and smoke.

“You gon’ feel me,” he whispered. “Feel every word I couldn’t say right. Feel every time I shoulda chose you louder.”

His hand slid under your shirt, and you gasped—‘cause this wasn’t soft. This wasn’t sorry. This was claimin’. This was a man tryna repent with his whole body.

And baby, you let him.

He slid down slow, mouth still on yours ‘til the last second. His hand pushed your thigh open again, wider this time, and he looked at you—dead in your eyes, like this wasn’t just lust. It was penance. Worship. He kissed the inside of your knee first, then lower, taking his time.

“You been actin’ like I forgot how to treat you,” he muttered, voice thick as molasses. “Let me remind you what it feel like to be taken care of.”

You barely had time to gasp when he pressed his mouth to you. That first pass of his tongue had you archin’ off the couch. He gripped your hips tight, keepin’ you down.

“Nah, don’t run now,” he said low, lips glistening. “You was talkin’ all that shit a minute ago. You gone take this.”

And you did.

He licked slow at first—broad, hungry strokes that made your breath catch. Then faster, tongue focused right where it needed to be, two fingers slid in easy, curling just right. You cried out, and he smiled against you, tongue never leavin’ you.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, voice damn near feral now. “Let me hear that shit. Don’t hold back, not with me.”

Your hands were in his hair, pullin’—not tryna stop him, just needin’ something to hold on to.

He brought you to the edge and over with no hesitation. He wanted you there. Needed to feel it. You shook under him, legs tremblin’, but he didn’t let up, even when you tried to push his head away.

“Sammie—baby I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” he said, voice thick with hunger. “You gon’ come again. Open back up for me.”

He spread you with both hands, dove in again like he couldn’t breathe without you on his tongue. This time, he kept his eyes on yours the whole time.

“Don’t look away,” he said, breathin’ against you. “Wanna see your face when you fall apart.”

And you did—again, harder this time, back archin’, his name fallin’ from your lips in broken, breathless moans.

When he came back up, his mouth was wet, and so were his eyes—just a lil’ bit.

“Tell me right now,” he said, leanin’ in close, lips ghostin’ yours, “that you ain’t mine. Say it with a straight face.”

You didn’t say a word. You just pulled him in, kissin’ him deep like you ain’t need no damn words at all.

He lined himself up, slow and steady, slid in deep on the first stroke, and stayed there.

You gasped, grippin’ his shoulders.

He didn’t move at first. Just let you feel it. All of it.

“You feel that?” he whispered against your mouth. “That’s me. I been here. Ain’t never left you, baby. Not really.”

You nodded, eyes damn near rollin’ back.

He started movin’ deep, slow strokes that filled you up and made your toes curl. One hand on your thigh, the other flat on the bed keepin’ him grounded. But his eyes never left your face.

“You still mad?” he asked, voice shaky with restraint.

You shook your head.

“You still hate me?”

“No,” you whispered.

He kissed you again, harder now, hips pickin’ up pace. The couch creaked under y’all but neither of you cared.

“Say you mine.”

“I’m yours, Sammie. Always was.”

“That’s right,” he said, buryin’ his face in your neck. “That’s right, baby.”

And when y’all finally came, it wasn’t just heat—it was every ounce of anger, pain, love, and regret burnin’ out at once. Both of y’all shakin’, holdin’ on like the world might end if you let go.

He didn’t move for a while. Just stayed there, buried deep, head on your chest, heart beatin’ fast against yours.

“I love you,” he said again, voice hoarse.

You kissed his temple, stroked his hair.

“I know, Sammie. You looked at him laughing a little. This made him look at you now “what”. He spoke laughing a little too. “Nothing you just barely made it out PK”. He ain’t say a word just say up looked at you real slow.

Your body was folded under him now—face in the pillow, back arched just right, his weight pressed firm and familiar behind you. Sammie’s hand gripped your hip like he owned it, other one flat on your lower back, steadyin’ you as he moved inside you slow… deep… like he meant every stroke.

“That shit you said…” he muttered, breath hot against your shoulder, “'bout me barely makin’ it out…”

You gasped when he pushed in harder, hittin’ that spot like he been rememberin’ where it was.

“Say some slick shit like that again,” he growled low, “and I’ma show you just how bad I can not make it out.”

He gave a rougher thrust that had you grabbing at the sheets, teeth bitin’ the pillow to keep from cryin’ out too loud. His hand slid up your back, fingers spread, keepin’ you grounded.

“This what you wanted, huh?” he grunted. “Actin’ like you ain’t need me, like you could just walk off and forget—nah. You mine, baby.”

You tried to speak but the rhythm—slow but mean—had you breathless, body trembling under him.

“I’m not gon’ leave you,” he said softer this time, voice thrummin’ deep in your ear. “Don’t care how mad you get, how loud you yell, how many times you hang up on me. I’m not leavin’. I’m here.”

His lips brushed the side of your neck, teeth grazin’, breath hot.

“It’s just us. Always been just us. Can’t no clout, no bitch, no dumb shit change that.”

His strokes slowed down but sank in deeper, hips grindin’ like he was tryna leave pieces of himself inside you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissin’ your spine. “Sorry if I made you feel like it wasn’t you. Like you wasn’t enough. You everything to me.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. The way he was movin’, talkin’, lovin’—it was too much and not enough all at once.

“You feel that?” he asked, voice husky.

You nodded into the pillow.

“That’s all me. And I’m yours too.”

He stayed buried deep, arms wrapping ‘round your waist, chest to your back now, lettin’ y’all melt into each other.

“I ain’t lettin’ go,” he whispered again. “So don’t run no more. Ain’t nowhere to go that I won’t follow.”

A month later, everything had shifted. You were back together—solid this time. Sammie had taken you on the most beautiful date, the Delta sky lit up behind him as he dropped to one knee with a band you damn near cried over.

Of course, the messy-ass Shaderoom posted it too, caught the whole moment in 4K, and while everybody had something to say… you could care less.

It was just you, your man, and music now.

You sat across from each other in the studio, separate mics, hearts synced.

Stack and Smoke were on the other side of the glass, watching like it was a damn movie. Smoke nudged Stack, a smirk on his face.

“See that? That’s how you get your woman back,” Smoke said.

Stack shook his head slow, arms crossed. “Nah, bruh. That’s how you stay soft.”

Smoke laughed, “Yeah, but they soft in love.”

Stack rolled his eyes, leaned forward, and pressed the intercom.

“Aight,” he said, voice dry but eyes warm, “seein’ as this whole thing was kinda my fault… I figured y’all could take it out on the track, leave it in this booth.”

He let go of the button, nodding at Smoke to hit play.

The bass hit like it knew your name, low and dirty and full of space. You closed your eyes and let it pour through you, your voice slipping in smooth—raw, emotional, laced with love and pain. Smoke looked at Stack with a raised brow, Stack just nodded, lips curled up. Sammie watched you, head bobbing slow, admiring the way you moved with the beat, your sound—his favorite place.

Your eyes found his as you sang directly to him now. That verse hit different, full of everything you couldn’t say in the mess. He slid one headphone down, nodding with the beat, then walked up to his mic with that same locked-in look.

The beat dipped darker, slower. He didn’t even glance at the paper—just went in, voice low, controlled. That whole verse sounded like an apology without ever sayin’ the words. Just you and him, pain and promise, trading bars like vows. Music wrapped around y’all like smoke.

You joined in, harmonizing with him—two voices, one body of hurt, healing, and heat. It wasn’t just a song. It was y’all. A reckoning. A release. A hit.

Later that night, Shaderoom posted a snippet of the session:

🎤🔥 Y’ALL HEAR THIS??? That tension in the booth got me sweating. Sammie & his girl locked in again, for real this time. Engagement, a studio session, and now a collab? Whew 😮‍💨

Comments flooded in:

• “They arguing on the beat and I love it 😭”

• “You can HEAR the makeup sex in her vocals.”

• “He really said I’m sorry through a 16-bar verse 🥲”

• “Soft men winning 2025 fr.”

And somewhere under it all, a pinned comment from Sammie’s burner account:

“Only one mic I’m sharing like that. Forever.”

Hit. Made. Hearts mended.

—————————-

Hey yall omg this took a minute- so enjoy this from me on my way home from therapy😏 hopefully it’s all cohesive ngl Im a little high.

Thank yall for reading sexies😏🤞🏾🎀

#Spotify #sinners #black reader #elias moore #elijah moore #pearline #preacher boy #ryan coogler #smoke and stack #x reader #sammie moore #sammie sinners #x black fem reader #x black reader #smut

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woodle-isbae · 1 month ago

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Having to say this is so weird..but

Sammie won't ever Date Remmick.

I get it's fiction and stuff, but there's a point where we need to think whole heartedly...Remmick talks about a WIFE, Sammie ate out pearline AND named a bar after her.

AND

Remmick becomes Sammie's oppressor towards the end of the movie. There's dark romance, and then there's just forcing unnecessary plots to feel included.

Unfortunately Sinners was not a movie for queer people, it was a movie for BLACK people.

There is 0 reason why Bo Chow, Remmick and fucking BERT!?!? of all people...have more fanfics than the main characters, the focus of the movie, the drivers of the plot🤦🏾‍♀️.

I'm an open person, I'll accept anyone for nearly anything, but it gets to a point where we can't enjoy anything because a certain...group comes in and washes out the whole point of a show/movie/book ect.

Sinners is not the media you can find queer or white representation at all. If you're looking for that, this is NOT the place for you

- Aza

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enticingmelanin · 28 days ago

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Fire We Make: A Modern Smoke x Annie Fic

Fire We Make || Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie (modern au)

This is Part 2 of the Savor Series.

Rating: E for Erotic.

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, and Explicit Language. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 7k+

Summary: Smoke and Annie’s bond has only deepened since fate reunited them in the city. Their emotional, mental, spiritual, and physical chemistry keeps their love burning bright. But when they attend the grand opening of Pearline’s, the heat between them proves impossible to tame. Some flames flicker. Theirs? Blazes.

𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞━━⊱⋆⊰━━𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞

Melodic humming filled Smoke’s bathroom as Annie applied the finishing touches to her makeup. Soft and radiant, her look accentuated her natural beauty—subtle shimmer on her lids, feathery lashes, and a gentle highlight that kissed her cheekbones. Her hair, now an older perm rod set, was pinned back into a romantic bun, a couple of loose spiral curls framing her face like poetry.

It had been eight months since they’d rekindled what was once lost—and they were stronger than ever. Life didn’t slow down for love, but they adapted, carved out time, made each other a priority. Zariah’s was always buzzing, fully booked, while Smoke and his family had poured heart and soul into building their lounge from the ground up. And finally… tonight was the night Pearline’s would be born.

Annie practically glowed as she moved through his space, excitement in every graceful step. As she reached for her MAC Ruby Woo lipstick to match her dress, a giddy hum vibrated from her lips.

“Ready, baby doll?” came that gravel-smooth voice from the bedroom.

“Yep, just puttin’ my lipstick on,” she replied, gliding the bold red pigment across her plush lips in one fluid stroke.

From the corner of her eye, she caught his silhouette in the doorway—leaned against the frame, watching her like she was art. His eyes roamed her slowly, appreciating how she mirrored his sharp red suit with that stunning dress.

The dress—a vintage-inspired scarlet gown that clung to her voluptuous frame. The satin hugged her curves, dipping low at the bust to reveal some cleavage, then cinched at her waist before flaring softly over her hips. A thigh-high slit flashed glimpses of smooth brown skin and hinted at the strappy red heels she wore underneath. Her body looked sculpted by the ancestors, and the way she moved in it? Like she knew she was unforgettable.

Suddenly, he was behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing himself flush against her back. His lips found her neck, placing slow, reverent kisses on her skin. A soft giggle escaped her as she leaned into his warmth.

“You look so damn good, we might not make it out the door,” he murmured against her ear, their gazes locking in the mirror.

Annie hummed, the corner of her mouth curling into a smirk. She turned to face him, arms draping around his neck, her breasts pressing against his solid chest. “As do you, but you can’t miss the grand opening, Mr. Owner. This is the night we’ve all been waitin’ for.”

Smoke let out a low sigh, trying to pull himself back from the edge. “True… I’d never hear the end of it, especially from Stack. But...” His voice dipped, rich with promise. “Just know I’m puttin’ these pretty lips to work later.”

He leaned in to kiss her, but she pressed a finger to his mouth, stopping him with a glint in her eye.

“Mm-mm. Not messin’ up my lipstick,” she whispered. “Plus… it'll give you somethin' to look forward to.”

She leaned in and slowly ran her tongue across his lips—teasing, taunting—before slipping away with a playful strut toward the doorway.

Smack!

His hand landed firmly on her ass, making her gasp mid-step.

“Elijah!” she scolded, breath catching in her throat.

He just grinned. “Better pray I behave tonight or you'll be screamin' that all night long.”

The fire between them crackled and Annie silently hoped she could tame the heat long enough to get through Pearline’s grand opening.

Slowly, the black Escalade rolled to a stop in front of the entrance, its paint gleaming under the moonlight and glowing building lights. Annie smiled at the long line of guests wrapped around the corner, all dressed in their finest. Their childhood friend, Cornbread, stood tall at the head of the line in a black tux as the bouncer of the evening. A bold neon sign in soft red script read “Pearline’s,” its light casting a sultry blush across the rich brick exterior. A red carpet trailed from the doorway like an enticing welcome.

She was lost in admiration when her car door swung open.

“Thank you, ba—” she started, then stopped, blinking as the face staring back at her wasn't Smoke's, though it was identical.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can admit you always liked me more,” Stack teased, grinning wide with those infamous gold-capped pearly whites, a toothpick dancing at the corner of his mouth. He wore the same tailored red suit as Smoke, but his button-down was black—sleek and sharp in contrast.

Annie shook her head, laughter already bubbling up. “Boy, you’re a menace,” she said, taking his hand as he helped her out of the truck. She pulled him into a warm hug.

“And you love me for it,” he replied, placing a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Nigga, you wish my woman liked your ol’ country bumpkin ass,” Smoke called out, rounding the front of the truck, that signature smirk playing on his lips.

Stack raised both hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face. “Sounds like the pot callin’ the kettle, big brother.”

“Stop terrorizing them, Elias,” came a soft, amused voice from behind him. Mary stepped up, all grace and calm. Her hair was styled in loose waves that framed her heart-shaped face, eyes bright and lips painted a subtle rose. The slinky rose gold dress she wore clung to her figure, shimmering with every step, the open back catching the warm glow from the lights behind her.

She pulled Annie into a hug with an easy elegance. “You look beautiful, love.”

Annie smiled. “So do you.”

The twins greeted each other with a dap and a tight hug before ushering their women inside.

Annie’s chocolate eyes widened the moment they stepped through the doors.

“Babe…” she breathed, rooted in wonder.

“Ain’t she a beauty?” Smoke replied, his voice laced with quiet pride.

Pearline’s was opulence made intimate. Deep ruby velvet chairs hugged black marble tables, each topped with crystal glassware and lush centerpieces of red roses. The walls were a glossy black laced with gold detailing, reflecting the soft, amber glow from the grand chandeliers that hung like golden galaxies above.

The stage was commanding—elevated, dramatic, framed by heavy crimson curtains that spilled like wine to the floor. A spotlight illuminated the center, while plush banquettes circled the space, giving every guest a perfect view.

Just then, a six-piece live band stepped onto the stage, dressed in crisp, classic black. The pianist flexed his fingers, the upright bassist plucked a note that hummed through the velvet-draped air, and the horns tuned in harmony. The rhythm promised something sultry, something smooth, something alive.

“Y’all got a hit on your hands,” Annie exclaimed, her eyes still soaking in every plush detail. “That line is gonna be wrapped around the city with people desperate to get in here after tonight.”

“That’s the idea,” Smoke replied, his smile slow and warm as his hand found the small of her back. The pride in his eyes wasn’t just for the lounge—it was for her. For everything they’d built together, in their own way.

“And once Pearline and Sammie hit the stage,” Mary added, her voice dipping into that sweet Southern twang as she glanced toward the velvet-draped platform, “they just might burn the roof down.” She let out a low whistle, the excitement dancing in her tone.

Stack smirked and nodded toward the back left corner with a casual flick of his chin. “Speak of the devil.”

Annie followed his gaze—and there they were.

Pearline stood poised in the corner, a tall glass of champagne in hand, dressed in floor-length black satin that shimmered like oil under the low lights. Her deep brown skin glowed under the chandeliers, and her natural hair was sculpted into a soft, elegant updo that showed off her high cheekbones and expressive eyes. She looked like every jazz song ever written about heartbreak and romance.

Beside her was Sammie wearing a charcoal-gray three-piece suit that fit like it was made just for him—shirt open at the collar, no tie. A soft gold chain peeked beneath the fabric. His guitar case rested against the corner of the booth like it had its own seat, and the way he leaned into Pearline, eyes low and easy, made it clear the stage wasn’t the only place they made music.

They were magnetic, undeniably so.

Mary squealed in excitement, eyes lit up like stage lights, and grabbed Annie’s hand without warning. “Come on!” she laughed, tugging her toward Pearline and Sammie.

Smoke shook his head, a crooked grin pulling at his lips. “Every damn time,” he muttered fondly as Stack chuckled, hands in his pockets, following behind them to join the growing group hug.

“I can’t wait to hear y’all’s new music,” Annie said, pulling back from the embrace, her eyes warm with admiration. She turned to shoot Smoke a teasing scowl. “He wouldn’t say a peep about it. Been keepin’ secrets.”

“Confidentiality clause,” he said with a smirk. “Artist privilege.”

The double doors opened behind them, and the low hum of conversation began to grow as guests trickled in—heels clicking against the marble floor, silk and perfume trailing through the air. Waiters dressed in black-on-black uniforms glided between tables, ushering people to their seats with ease.

“Looks like you won’t be waitin' too much longer,” Pearline said, giving Annie a playful wink. “It’s showtime. We’ll see y’all in a bit.” Her smile lingered as she looped her arm through Sammie’s, and together they slipped backstage.

The two couples made their way to a table positioned front and center—the table, with an unobstructed view of the grand stage. The plush crimson chairs hugged them in comfort as they settled in, the golden glow from the chandeliers bathing them in a warm, flattering light.

Classic jazz poured from the band now set up onstage—the kind of melodies that made you close your eyes and sway slow without realizing. The saxophone crooned like it had a heart of its own, mixing perfectly with the clink of glassware and soft laughter around the room.

Their table was a feast of elegance and indulgence. Thanks to Annie—who Smoke proudly insisted be listed as a partner—Pearline’s menu had soul and sophistication. Small plates filled the table like a love letter to flavor—oysters Rockefeller resting in gleaming shells, crab-stuffed mushrooms steaming beside golden catfish fritters, sliders layered with Wagyu beef and caramelized onions, honey roasted carrots, and baskets of parmesan truffle fries still hot to the touch.

The twins nursed their negronis, dark and bitter with just enough bite, while the ladies sipped lemon drops—tart, sweet, and chilled nicely.

“This is what luxury tastes like,” Stack said, popping a fry into his mouth and leaning back with a satisfied hum.

Mary raised her glass toward Annie. “That’s ‘cause our girl knows what she’s doing.”

Annie just smiled, letting her fingers trail over the base of her glass. “Only the best for y'all.”

After a moment of savoring their food and enjoying each other's company, the band’s saxophonist stepped forward, mic in hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, the soul of Pearline’s—Miss Pearline herself!”

The lights shifted, casting a warm spotlight on the stage just as Pearline emerged from backstage. She strutted toward the mic stand with slow, sultry confidence. Her presence alone commanded the room. She grasped the microphone with intention, her fingers adorned with delicate gold rings, while Sammie joined the band—his foot stomping to start the beat of the song. The rest of the band followed suit, feet thundering in unison like a summoning drum, ushering her into the music.

Then, her voice—rich, raw, and velvet-smooth—cut through the air.

"Ooh, ooh Mm-hm, mm-hm Mm-hm, mm-hm Oh, pale moon rising over the pines, come Lawd away until the sun does rise Leave the day by the, by the door, I don't Care if sun don't shine once more, that's what I said"

A current surged through the lounge. Even Smoke, usually the embodiment of cool restraint, found his fingers tapping against his glass, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. The crowd came alive—feet stomping, hands clapping, the rhythm infecting every corner of the space.

As Pearline’s hips swayed and her voice soared, she stepped down from the stage gracefully, weaving through the crowd. She didn’t just perform—she shared the song. Women stood to join her, drawn into the spell she cast. Mary was on her feet first, dragging Annie with her as laughter bubbled from both of them.

“Y’all better move!” Mary yelled over the music, her curls bouncing as she hyped Pearline up.

Annie laughed, joining in the stomps and claps, her red dress hugging her curves with every twist and sway. Pearline moved between them, harmonizing with two background singers as the lyrics rang out.

"Ain't no love in the heat of the sun Keep on workin' 'til the dollar's won From the crow of the rooster to the morning dove Sing my song when the day is done"

The final note lingered in the air, followed by an eruption of applause, whistles, and the low hum of delighted conversation.

“Girl, you did that!” Annie praised breathlessly, grabbing Pearline’s hand in a high five, her eyes shining with pride. She felt like a proud big sister watching her shine.

Pearline beamed, her smile radiant as she glided back up to the stage and gently returned the mic to its stand. Sammie stepped forward, looping an arm around her waist.

“Give it up again for my baby y’all!” His voice boomed with pride, deep and smooth. The room answered in cheers as the couple shared a soft, lingering kiss, earning more whistles and playful teasing from the crowd.

Pearline swayed back toward the girls, her energy still electric, while Sammie stayed center stage.

“So clearly,” he said with a chuckle, “this place is named after the woman I love.” He looked across the room at Pearline, his eyes softening. “Seems only right, considerin’ the only thing I love almost as much as her is music.”

More “awws” and whistles followed, and he winked before continuing. “I gotta thank her, Annie, and Mary for their unwavering encouragement and partnership. And last but certainly not least—my cousins Smoke and Stack. They more like my brothers, and I wouldn’t wanna build this place with anybody else.” His gaze landed on each of them, voice thick with emotion. “Don’t know where I’d be without their guidance, love, and support.”

The ladies blew him kisses while the twins lifted their glasses in salute, proud and still grinning.

Sammie chuckled. “Ya see, we come from a lil ol' town in Mississippi named Clarksdale. Back home they call me Preacher Boy, on account of my daddy bein’ a man of the cloth.”

Laughter rippled through the audience.

“He used to say if I kept dancin’ with the devil, meanin’ the blues, one day he’d follow me home.” He paused, eyes glinting with mischief. “But far as I can tell, all blues ever brought me was freedom.”

He slung his guitar over his torso, adjusting the strap as the room grew still with anticipation.

“So this one’s for my daddy. Hope y’all like it.”

He plucked the strings with soulful ease, the guitar crying out in rich, aching notes.

“Somethin' I been wantin’ to tell ya for a long time... It might hurt you, hope you don’t lose your mind..."

The band joined him, stomping their feet once more, pulling everyone into the rhythm of his truth.

"Well, I was just a boy, ‘bout eight years old You threw me a Bible on that Mississippi road See, I love ya, Papa, you did all you could do They say the truth hurts, so I lie to you Yes, I lied to you I love the blues…”

Sammie’s voice poured out like honey over gravel—rich, aching, and smooth. It wrapped around the room and didn’t let go. The men nodded in quiet agreement with the beat, their expressions solemn and knowing. The women, drawn in by the slow pull of the music, swayed their hips seductively to the beat.

Annie felt Smoke’s stare heavy on her backside, his gaze smoldering. She didn’t need to turn to know Stack was doing the same to Mary, who twirled a lock of hair between her fingers and grinned to herself.

“Mm-mm Ohohoh, mm-mm Hey! Somebody take me in your arms tonight, well alright”

The crowd whooped and clapped as Sammie hit a powerful high note with effortless control. An older gentleman, known to most as Delta Slim, took his place at the keys. With fingers smooth as silk and sharp as razors, he played like the piano owed him money. He was family—more uncle than friend to the twins—and his presence alone raised the soul of the room.

“Sang, baby!” Pearline called out proudly from the sidelines, hands cupped around her mouth.

"Somebody take me in your arms tonight”

“Wheeew, boy! We ’bout to make us some money!” Stack hollered, his deep laugh booming as Smoke shook his head, chuckling low beside him.

“I hope you can stand it, stand it all ‘Cause what I’m out here doin’, you didn’t preach at all See, I’m full of the blues, holy water too I know the truth hurts, so I lie to you So preach on, speak your words I know the truth hurts Yes, I lied to you I love the blues I love the blues...”

As the song moved into its final stretch, Sammie stepped closer to the edge of the stage, lifting his hand to direct the audience.

“Sing with me now…”

The crowd followed eagerly, humming and swaying, the entire room moving like one being.

“Mm-hmm Mm-hmm Mm-hmm Yeah, yeah, yeah Hey, hey, oh Mm-hmm I know the truth hurts Hey Lied to you Somebody take me in your arms!”

The crescendo hit like a wave, his voice crashing through the air with such force it felt as if the very windows would burst. Plates vibrated, silverware tingled, and hearts pounded in unison with the beat. Applause exploded before the final note had even fully landed.

Annie blinked back tears that welled in her eyes as chills ran up her spine—not of sadness, not even pride. It felt ancestral. Like spirits of their kin had gathered in joy, hands clapping and feet stomping with them. She quickly dabbed her eyes and clapped, joining in the thunderous standing ovation as Pearline’s heels clicked fast across the floor, arms flung wide to embrace her man.

“I knew Lil Sammie could sing,” Mary hollered over the music as the band struck up a light, jazzy number. “But I ain’t never heard nothin’ like that before.”

“Me neither,” Annie laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Now I see why Smoke kept his mouth shut. That was the best-kept secret, that’s for sure.”

They giggled and clasped hands, spinning each other on the dancefloor like carefree girls in love with life. Laughter spilled between them, joined by the warmth of good company and good food.

But just as they slowed their pace, Mary’s smile dropped, her eyes narrowing at a figure near their table.

“Now I know she sees that ring on his finger,” she said, annoyance evident in her tone.

Annie followed her gaze. A woman with legs too long and a dress too short stood much too close to the twins. Stack was leaning back, twirling a toothpick at the corner of his mouth with a smirk. Smoke, stoic as ever, puffed slowly on a cigar, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

Annie’s brow arched. “Mmm,” she hummed before strutting toward them, Mary on her heels.

“You boys twins?” the woman asked, her voice syrupy and too sweet. Smoke nearly rolled his eyes while Stack let out a soft chuckle, amused.

“Nah,” Stack answered dryly, his smile slow and sly. “We cousins.”

The woman giggled, clearly unfazed. “That was silly of me. Of course y’all twins. Fine ones at that.”

Annie nearly scoffed aloud but caught herself.

Girl, you tried it.

“They sure are,” Annie chimed in smoothly, stepping in with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Mary cozied up to Stack, his arm slipping naturally around her shoulders. Annie’s eyes locked with Smoke’s. He raised the cigar to his lips again, but she took his hand, guiding it—and the cigar—toward her mouth. Her crimson lips wrapped around the tip briefly, pulling a slow drag before blowing a stream of smoke in soft rings toward the ceiling.

His eyes darkened, the tension between them crackling like static.

“Hi, baby doll,” he murmured, enthralled. His gold open-face caps glistened under the warm lighting against his teeth.

“Hi, daddy,” she purred back, voice velvet and warm. “Who’s this?”

Smoke barely glanced at the woman. “Oh... uh. What was your name again?” he asked absently, like someone trying to remember what they had for breakfast.

“It’s April,” she snapped, her smile faltering with the realization that she was now completely ignored.

At that moment, Sammie and Pearline reappeared near the front of the stage, preparing to begin a duet.

“Well, April,” Smoke said casually, still not looking at her, “if you’ll excuse us, we’re gonna go dance with our beautiful wives. Have a good night.”

And just like that, he guided Annie toward the dancefloor, Stack following suit with Mary, leaving April dumbfounded in their wake.

Annie’s heart swelled as she rested against him, her heart full.

Wife.

The word echoed sweetly in her ears. She gazed up at his face, lost in him, eyes wide and full of love, the way a woman looks at a man who makes her feel like she’s the only thing that matters in the world. That's exactly how he made her feel everyday.

She never placed marriage on a pedestal—refused to, really, in defiance of the conditioning women had been fed since birth. But with a man like Smoke—a man who respected her, saw her, and always moved with her best interests in mind—marriage didn’t feel like some risky fairytale. With him, it felt natural. Like breathing.

Pearline and Sammie began singing a cover of Fire We Make by Alicia Keys and Maxwell—sultry, smooth, and perfectly tailored to their voices. The chandeliers above dimmed and shifted into a seductive crimson hue, bathing the room in heat and longing. The air felt thick with it.

Smoke pulled Annie flush against him in the center of the dancefloor, his arms wrapped tight and possessive around her waist as they began to sway in sync with the rhythm.

"Hey baby how you doing tonight I wanna let you know, I wanna tell just how I feel Don't wanna love you baby and it's going so right I wanna burn a candle, turn the darkness to the light With the fire we make, it's getting hotter and hotter"

Their eyes stayed locked, unblinking. The lyrics weren’t just music—they were confessions they both had yet to communicate. Annie’s stare was full of hunger and heat, but also anchored in something deeper. Love. Safety. Want. It stirred something primal in him.

Smoke’s brow quirked, and he leaned in, his voice low, rough velvet against her ear. “You keep lookin’ at me like that, cousin and Pearl won’t be the only ones givin’ a show.”

Annie bit her lip, pelvis tightening at the wicked thought of the kind of show he meant. “Just thinkin’.”

"Hi baby, wont you tell me the truth You wanna be the one, you can't stay away Hey darling, don't you mean no excuse We can chase this on, and burn the hole inside you From the fire we make it's getting hotter and hotter Like a moth to a flame, I can't stay away With the fire we make it's getting higher and higher Like the night to the day I can't stay, I can't stay away"

“’Bout what?” he asked, eyes scanning her face like he already knew.

He reached up and gently untangled the gold earring dancing against her jaw, his fingers trailing the delicate curve of her neck. She shivered.

“Wife,” Annie said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

His own smile mirrored hers as he smoothed a tendril of hair back behind her ear, then traced her cheekbone with his thumb like a man memorizing scripture.

"This abyss of the world and it takes us to the stars It's getting higher and higher It's the fire we make it's the fire we make Getting sweeter and sweeter Like a night to a day I can't stay away, say is, no no"

“I’m not takin’ this second chance with you for granted,” he said, voice low but steady. His eyes locked onto hers with devotion. “Those years without you? They felt hollow. Nobody’s ever seen me the way you do. And I’ve never tried to understand anybody the way I try to understand you. I spent that time fuckin’ up, learnin’ from it, becomin' the man I always wanted to be... the man I wish my father had been.”

His grip on her waist tightened slightly, grounding himself in her. “It all led me back to you. I ain’t sayin’ we gotta rush... but I know what I want and that's to be your husband.”

Her breath hitched, tears gathering in her eyes. Every word burrowed into her soul and settled there. “I want that too,” she said, barely above a whisper. “On one condition.”

He smirked. “What’s that?”

“I’m hyphenating my last name. It’s a piece of Mama I’m never giving up.”

Smoke nodded without hesitation. “Of course. But don’t think I’m proposin’ to you in the middle of this lounge,” he said with a grin, brushing his lips across her forehead. “When I do, you’ll know it. And you won’t be sharin’ that day with anyone or anything but me.”

He turned her in his arms, pressing her back against his chest. She relaxed into him, eyes fluttering shut as his lips found the crook of her neck and shoulder. The brush of his beard against her skin sent a shiver down her spine.

"I wanna tell you, I wanna love you, I just wanna stay with you I can't be done, just can't stay away, I wanna make so much fire with you Baby I wanna go, gonna go, to you darlin' Yeah yeah"

The crowd erupted into applause as the song ended, but Annie and Smoke didn’t even notice. They were still moving, still caught in each other’s pull like gravity.

Smoke gently cupped her jaw, guiding her gaze up to meet his. “I love you... so much.”

“I love you too,” she said, eyes dropping to his lips. And before either of them could say another word, she kissed him—deep and hungry, lipstick be damned.

A low grunt rumbled from Smoke’s lips as he kissed her back with just as much fire. His arousal pressed hard against her ass, thick and undeniable, making her moan softly into his mouth. It felt like they were the only two people in the room—like time had slowed and spun around just them. But as much as he wanted to take her right then and there, the thought of anyone else laying eyes on her in that state made his jaw tighten.

He slowly pulled back from her, reluctant but determined. Before she could even ask, he was already taking her hand, leading her upstairs with purposeful strides into a sleek, modern office space. She barely had time to admire the clean lines and dark wood finish before his strong hands cupped her breasts through her dress, massaging them with hunger. The seat of her thong was soaked with need, her arousal only heightening under his touch.

There was no more saving it for later. Later was now—and the urgency of it, the risk of being heard or even caught, sent a fresh thrill down her spine. The music from the band downstairs would likely cover any sounds, but the chance someone might hear? That alone made her wetter.

She gasped when her breasts were suddenly bare, cool air kissing her sensitive skin. Smoke had undone the bow at the nape of her neck without her even noticing. Her back arched involuntarily as his fingers worked her nipples, rubbing and twirling them until they stood firm, aching for more.

“Can daddy have his pussy now, sweetheart?” he murmured low and thick in her ear, voice coated in lust. “You been temptin’ me all night.”

A breathy moan escaped her. “Yes,” she answered, voice laced with anticipation. Then, with a teasing smirk, “But I thought you said you were puttin’ these pretty lips to work. Had a change of heart?”

That made him pause. A glint sparked in his eyes.

Without a word, he stepped away, walking toward the glossy black office desk. Still holding her gaze, he peeled off his suit jacket and draped it neatly over the back of the leather chair. Then, without breaking eye contact, he undid the buttons of his shirt with quick, precise flicks, metal clinking as he unfastened his belt next. A swift unzip of his slacks and shift of his boxers later, his thick, long dick was in his hand, slowly being stroked with deliberate rhythm.

Annie’s mouth parted slightly, damn near drooling at the sight.

“Thank you for remindin’ me,” he said, voice low and smooth like molasses. He curled his finger at her, beckoning. “Now… come over here so I can do just that.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Annie strutted toward him, eyes locked on his thick length. As she stepped between his legs, his hand reached up, fingers wrapping gently around the front of her neck to pull her into a ravenous kiss. Their mouths moved together in feverish hunger, moans exchanged as their tongues danced and tangled. Her left hand braced against his thigh while the right traveled up to his dick, fingers wrapping around it and stroking with slow, twisting motions.

Smoke grunted at the contact, eyes fluttering shut briefly before he released her neck to let her work. She loved this—pleasing him, taking care of him. The act was intimate, powerful, grounding. Just like him, she’d go to the ends of the earth to make the other smile, to bring peace, pleasure, joy. It was always mutual—physical, emotional, soul-deep.

Red lipstick prints marked a sensual trail down his muscular torso as she lowered herself to her knees. The layers of her dress fanned out around her, giving her just enough cushion. Her hand kept stroking his shaft while her lips wrapped around the swollen head, delivering slow, savoring sucks. His head fell back, bottom lip caught between his teeth, breath short and sharp.

Annie moaned as she sucked him deeper, her hands now splayed against his strong thighs. Smoke’s hand slid to the back of her head, fingers splayed as their eyes met once more.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he muttered, voice hoarse, hips subtly rocking in rhythm with the sultry number the band played downstairs. He began thrusting into her mouth, slow but deliberate. Pleased with the praise, Annie moaned again, the sound vibrating down his shaft. She relaxed her throat, letting him hit the back as she matched his pace, one hand sliding to gently cup and massage his balls.

Smoke let out a low, guttural groan. “Fuck… mmm. You want daddy to cum in that pretty mouth? Hm, baby doll?”

“Mhm,” she purred, his length muffling her voice.

Wet smacks and slick suction sounds filled the office as she devoured him like a woman on a mission. Her saliva spilled down her chin, dripping between her breasts. An idea sparked in her head.

His shaft throbbed against her tongue as his climax neared, and just before it hit, Annie pulled back with a sultry gleam in her eye. Rising onto her knees, she cupped her full breasts and sandwiched his slick shaft between them. Pressing them tightly around him, she glided them up and down his length.

Smoke hissed through his teeth. “Shit…”

She knew how much he adored her breasts—touching them, sucking them, burying his face in them—but this? This was new. And her boldness wrapped around his restraint and yanked.

“Fuck, girl…” he muttered, jaw tight as his hips began to thrust, titty-fucking her with increasing urgency. He slipped his thumb between her lips and she sucked it without hesitation, eyes locked on his like a challenge.

Then with a groan, his release hit—warm ropes of cum coating her chest as he growled, “Oooh, such a good fuckin’ girl.”

His thumb slipped from her lips with a soft pop, then wiped the spit trailing down her chin. He cupped her jaw, pulling her into a deep, possessive kiss. Their mouths melded in a passionate exchange before his hands dropped to her waist, gripping firmly as he maneuvered their bodies to switch places with practiced ease.

Now with Annie’s back to him, Smoke didn’t waste a second. He yanked her thong down with urgency, bunching her dress around her waist. Her breath hitched as cool air kissed her exposed skin, followed by the warm press of his fingers against her slick folds. Her moans spilled out instantly.

Meanwhile, Annie swiped two fingers through his cum on her chest, trailing it to her nipples and circling them teasingly, adding another layer of stimulation.

“Mmm... wet ass pussy,” he murmured against her ear, voice low and raspy as his hand slid up to gently grip her throat. “She needs me, doesn’t she, baby?” he asked before slipping two fingers inside her, deep and deliberate.

She whimpered, her knees nearly buckling as her eyes fluttered shut. “Oh fuck... yes, daddy. Please,” she begged, voice trembling.

Smoke pressed soft, adoring kisses to her cheek, her jaw, the length of her neck—watching her every expression. He was under her spell. Watching her unravel was his favorite part of making love to her. It never lost its thrill, and he knew he wanted to watch her come undone like this for the rest of his life.

“There’s somethin’ I need from you first,” he said with a smirk in his voice.

Before she could ask, his fingers began pumping her harder, faster—precise strokes against her spongy g-spot while his palm repeatedly brushed against her clit. The sudden intensity ripped a high-pitched squeal from her.

She knew exactly what he wanted.

And she didn’t fight it.

Because what daddy wants, he gets.

Her orgasm tore through her like lightning, thighs shaking as her release splashed onto his hand and down her legs, wetting the hardwood beneath them in a small puddle. Her hands slammed onto the desk to keep her balance. Had it not been for the band playing below, their guests would’ve easily heard the symphony of moans and cries raining down from the second floor.

Annie whimpered and shuddered as the aftershocks seized her body. “Hmmmm, shit!”

Smoke’s low, satisfied chuckle rumbled against her ear. “Good girl,” he praised, gently stroking her sensitive pussy, helping her glide back down from the high he'd so expertly pulled from her.

Once she had calmed down, delicate kisses trailed up the top of her back to the base of her neck. A shiver rolled through her as she felt the thick, bulbous head of Smoke’s dick gliding teasingly through her slick folds, gathering her wetness but not yet entering her.

Before she could beg him to fuck her, his grip tightened—right hand clamping down on her shoulder while the left took hold of her waist. With one powerful pull, he guided her back onto his shaft as she bent forward.

She hissed through her teeth in pleasure. “Oooh, yes, baby,” she moaned, long and needy, her eyes rolling back before fluttering shut. Every girthy inch of him filled her slowly, every ridge of his shaft dragging against her aching walls with maddening precision.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, watching as his dick disappeared into her, coated in her arousal. The wet clap of their bodies meeting echoed off the walls as his pace quickened. Their moans wove together, rising and falling like a sensual melody, each thrust drawing them deeper into a euphoric haze. But it still wasn’t enough. No amount of her ever was. Annie always left Smoke hungry for more—starving even.

He gripped her right leg and lifted it, bracing her knee on the edge of the desk. The position made her spread wider, fully open, utterly his. He drove into her harder, deeper, fucking her like he couldn’t get close enough.

The sound of her moans, the rhythm of their breathing, the heat between them—it all built into something wild and consuming.

“Mhm, that’s it. Gimme this pussy,” he grunted, landing a sharp smack on her ass. Her walls pulsed around him, gripping him tight as creamy white arousal gathered at the base of his dick.

“Yessss, cream on it,” he groaned with another slap. “Show me how much you love this dick, baby.”

Annie whined, her breath catching with each relentless thrust. His deep strokes and filthy praise had her unraveling, the ache between her thighs twisting tighter and tighter.

“Da-Daddy… uunh!” she whimpered.

“I got you, baby. Give it to me,” he urged, voice low and commanding. She couldn’t deny him if she tried.

“Elijah…” she gasped, her nudey pink nails clawing at the desk for leverage, trying to ground herself.

He leaned down, tongue dragging up the sheen of sweat along her spine to the nape of her neck before planting a kiss there.

“That’s right,” he growled against her skin. “Tell them who you belong to.”

His name poured from her lips like a prayer as she shattered—body trembling, pussy quivering around him in a tight, uncontrollable climax. Her orgasm consumed her, every nerve lit and raw, her voice caught between sobbing moans and broken cries.

Smoke’s restraint crumbled. He bit his bottom lip hard, fighting his own release as he continued to pound into her. But he needed more.

Suddenly, he pulled out and swiftly turned her over, laying her flat on her back. His hands pushed her thighs up and back, opening her wide again.

“Just one more, baby,” he murmured, slipping back inside her like he never left.

Her cries floated up to the ceiling—soft, wrecked, overwhelmed. She hadn’t even started to recover, and already he was digging for that spot that made her scream. One hand clutched the back of her thigh, the other gripped his forearm like an anchor.

Her eyes clamped shut just as his fingers found her clit, strumming it in time with his strokes.

That was it. The fire between them exploded into an earth-shattering orgasm.

“Fuck, Annie,” he groaned with one final, powerful thrust as he emptied himself deep inside her. Their moans tangled together in a raw, perfect duet.

Breathless, he collapsed forward, capturing her mouth in a slow, loving kiss. His fingers brushed the damp tendrils of hair from her flushed face, reverent even in the afterglow.

After a few more kisses, Annie felt the absence of his warmth. The soft click of the office bathroom door let her know where he’d gone, but she hadn’t yet summoned the strength to lift even one eyelid. Her body still hummed, boneless and spent.

Minutes passed, then her hips jerked slightly at the sudden warm pressure between her thighs.

“Shhh, baby,” Smoke soothed, crouched between her legs with a damp cloth. She whimpered quietly, still tender, still sensitive. He moved with care, wiping her down with featherlight precision.

A second cloth followed, warm and wet, this time dabbing the sticky mess from her chest with the same patience. She swore she could feel the pride in his touch—like he was handling something sacred.

When he finished, his hands enveloped hers and gently pulled her upright. He kissed her—slow, soft, and lingering.

“I promise I’ll put you to sleep when we get home,” he murmured against her lips. “Now, go pee. I’ll grab your bag.”

And with that, he turned and slipped out, quietly closing the door behind him. Somewhere in the haze, she realized he’d already redressed.

She sighed deeply, letting the moment sink in, before finally peeling her eyes open and rising to her feet. Moving gingerly, she made her way to the bathroom.

After flushing the toilet, she washed her hands and paused to study her reflection.

Messy lipstick? Check.

Tousled hair? Check.

Thoroughly fucked and utterly in love?

Check. And check.

A giggle bubbled up from her chest. Smoke made her feel so damn free—unapologetically herself. She used to think she could never do something this bold, this wild, in public. But with him? She felt protected. Cherished. Unleashed.

As she reached for the straps of her dress, the door opened. Smoke reappeared with her purse in hand, setting it gently on the marble counter.

“Let me,” he offered, stepping behind her.

She let go of the fabric and he took over, retying the straps into a secure bow at the back of her neck, adjusting it until her breasts sat right. Then his arms wrapped around her middle and his chin rested on her shoulder, eyes locked on her reflection while she touched up her makeup.

She giggled, tossing him a playful kiss in the mirror. He smiled, slow and genuine, his thumb brushing across her hip absentmindedly.

A few moments later, she gave herself one final once-over and turned to him. “Good?”

“Perfect,” he replied without hesitation.

He took her hand, fingers laced, and led her back downstairs.

As they reached their table, Sammie and Pearline were seated, happily indulging in a new round of small plates. Across from them sat Stack and Mary, looking equally satisfied.

“Y’all make me an uncle while y’all were gone?” Stack asked with his signature slick smirk.

A round of muffled laughter and exchanged glances swept through the table.

Smoke turned to his twin, one brow arched high. “Aye, Mary,” he called, eyes still on Stack.

“Yes, brother?” she answered cautiously, already sensing the trap as she glanced between them.

“How’s that storage closet ceilin' holdin’ up?” he asked, wearing a near-identical smirk.

"Oop," Pearline squeaked under her breath.

Mary gasped, hand flying to her mouth as the memory of her recent midday quickie with Stack hit her like a runaway train.

“Oh, you playin’ dirty now,” Stack said, chuckling and shaking his head.

“Checkmate, lil’ brother,” Smoke replied coolly, and the whole table erupted in laughter.

The night flowed on in easy rhythm—full of laughter, good conversation, and the low hum of live music. Annie and Smoke stayed close, attached at the hip. He kept his promise when they returned home, rocking her to sleep in every way he knew how.

And just before sleep claimed him, his thoughts drifted to the little black velvet box hidden in the back corner of his walk-in closet.

To be continued...

𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞━━⊱⋆⊰━━𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞

Is that wedding bells I hear? I hope y'all loved this as much as I loved writing it. I had the Sinners soundtrack playing as I got lost in this. I HAVE to go see it again. Glad I saw it in IMAX first. Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think. I love hearing from you guys. xoxo

𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞━━⊱⋆⊰━━𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞

Taglist:

@slvt4her @wanderingreigns @avoidthings @xjjawsomex @that-one-anxious-mango @wabi-sabi1090 @nubiawrites @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @kianaleani @slutsareteacherstoo @slyy-foxx @dxddykenn @moujg @naughtynolly @wildcardmelaninfreak @pocketsizedpanther @wabi-sabi1090 @styleismyaddiction @novahreign @transparentphantomface @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @babymelaninn @jasmynn05 @notapradagurl7 @starcrossedxwriter @irefusetobeacasualty @bigjh @syko-jpg @akjonthebeat @margepimpson @diamondsinterlude @brownsugarcoffy @shamansha @samiecemonet-blog @nebulamilkyway

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thebumblebeesworld · 17 days ago

Text

SUN • DON’T • SHINE

pearline x fem vampire reader

summary: pearline has mesmerized you with her voice since the first night you saw her at club juke. since being turned, you’ve had to lurk in shadows just to get a glimpse of her. but you find that soon enough, you’ll get what you want.

cw: smut, vampirism, blood, vampire shit, mention of alcohol, stalking

a/n: in this version, the original vampire storyline is different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a power in Pearline that you just needed to experience up close. Everything about her exuded a sense of urgency and desire and sensuality, and it made you want to make all of her dreams come true.

You saw her that first night at Club Juke. You observed the way she moved about the room as if she owned it. You watched her drink with friends and dance to Delta Slim’s smooth piano. And you noticed the way she played with Sammie.

Her gaze upon the boy was enough to knock the wind out of your own body and she wasn’t even paying you no attention.

You loved the way she spoke with her body, pointing her chest in the direction she wanted to go, swaying her hips deeply as if to tell him to take her for a ride.

It was captivating.

You remember how she and Sammie slipped off into a side room, and you could only imagine the sinful things he was doing to her body—praying that it could be you in his same position in the near future. You were so enamored by Pearline that you couldn’t even be made at Sammie for taking the woman you wanted. You couldn’t be mad at him when he had been given a chance to please Pearline when she didn’t even know your name.

You were a stranger—someone who spent more time lurking in the shadows than putting yourself right in front of her and commanding her attention.

When they strutted out of that room, Pearline’s hair had shrunk significantly due to the heat of their fucking. Her skin glistened in the warm kerosene lights of the juke. Her dress—once tidy and clean—hung unsecured from her pert shoulders. There was a newfound pep in her step that made your mouth water.

She was drunk off her encounter; The Italian wine she had been drinking couldn’t compete with Sammie’s tongue. Her husband was long gone from her mind, and all she could think about was her pleasure and how she craved more of it.

You sat at the bar, analyzing the way Pearline threw herself on the stage. She screamed like a bat out of hell, howled like she was on a mission to commune with the pale moon herself. As she began singing deep and reverent, voice hitting everyone’s body like a gutsy punch, she galvanized the crowd into joining her in a litany of chants, claps, and sturdy stomps on the wooden floor. The room was drowning in sounds, but all you could pay attention to was her.

The participants to her song fueled the somewhat spiritual experience she was having, and you just wanted to cross the room and reach out to touch her.

But you remained controlled.

It’s something you had always found as a fault within yourself. You hardly pushed the limits, and that caused you to lose opportunities that could have changed your life for better or worse—but you would never know, and that was the problem.

That night at Club Juke, you lost your chance. Pearline was in arms reach as you sat in that barstool, and when she got closer to you and your fingers began to twitch against your glass, you just let her pass by without even a word. You watched with solemn eyes as she walked right out the front door and into the dark Mississippi night.

You let the knowledge that Sammie had given her earth-shattering you-didn’t-even-know-what get in the way of what you wanted. What you could give her.

You thought that if he could make her howl the way she had, maybe she didn’t need you at all.

You ain’t have no vision.

You left the juke not too long after Pearline did, not seeing any point in staying now that she was long gone. She was your eye-candy for the night. None of the other women could hold your attention the way she could, not even when hanging on your arm or asking you frivolous questions like what was in your glass. The men didn’t do much for you either. Pearline was your only desire.

Stepping out into the night air, you enjoyed the slight breeze you felt. It was cooler outside than it was when you first arrived, but the air still hung heavily with uncertainty. Pearline never left your mind, and you were starting to feel foolish for letting her slip away. You kicked at the dirt and rocks, sulking at your lost chance and planning how you would approach her if you saw her again.

But as you neared your car, a sharp growl forced a shiver to crawl up your spine. It felt like your head was swimming with voices whispering your name. Voices shouting your dark secrets. Voices taunting you with all the things you hadn’t done under the guise of being in control.

You turned towards the tree line, hearing the rumble and shake of leaves and tree branches. You squinted hard, pulse going crazy in your body. Adrenaline coursed through you as you couldn’t figure out what to do. Sweat ran down your face in an unsuccessful attempt at cooling you down.

Your gaze sharpened as the voices got louder, and just at the edge of the trees, you could see dark figures with beady, glowing red and yellow eyes.

You grabbed your gun that sat tucked against your hipbone—an attempt to gain control—but it was futile.

It was almost like the sky opened up, and before you could even raise your gun, you felt a gut-wrenching sensation on the right side of your neck.

Beady eyes stared directly into yours, and visions of a life you hadn’t lived poured into you.

You felt like your body was no longer your own. You had no control.

~~~~~~~~~~

The one thing you didn’t realize about being turned is that all of your emotions would heighten. You felt uncertain at all times, and as someone who spent most of those personhood in control, it was jarring for you.

The last formative moment you remember was seeing Pearline up on Club Juke’s stage singing her heart out. Her satin dress reflecting the light. Her hands dancing in the air and moving about her hearty body. Her hands and knees crawling with a purpose across the stage.

Your vampire form clung to that image of her. It desired greedily to do the things you couldn’t do when you were human.

To touch her.

To taste her.

To make her yours.

But you tried to fight it as best you could: not touching, not tasting, but lurking in dark corners and outside her window at night, snarling when you saw her in bed with her husband, and rejoicing when she’d tiptoe out of their home after he’d fallen slept. You followed Pearline almost every weekend night from her home to Club Juke and then back.

It was a routine that gave your immortality a purpose. If you couldn’t do anything in the day time, then you could at least watch her at night.

You protected her on her walks. If anything happened to her or if another vampire got to her before you did, you’d probably become something far worse than you already were. You could sense your body tensing when men got close to her, and when other vampires watched in on her, you fought them off brutally.

You feared letting yourself just have it. Have her.

You thought your emotions would run wild and that you would end up ravishing Pearline without taking the proper care for her. That’s all you’ve even truly wanted—to give her what she needed.

So you suppressed yourself in an effort to keep her safe.

For months you followed the same routine: watching her pretend to sleep next to to bastard husband, mouth watering as you were entranced by the way she lotioned and perfumed her body to prepare for the night ahead, slipping into the trees as she walked out into the night air with slow strides, and following closely behind her until she made it outside of Club Juke’s heavy doors.

There weren’t many dangers anymore. Most of the other vampires—the ones that turned you—found other towns to torment and other people to feed on, but you were cautious always. Since becoming a vampire, you realized that there are a lot of scary things in this world: ghosts, goblins, demons, yourself.

The more you watched her, the more you wanted her. Your body was starting to fight itself. Your vampire form grew stronger the more you fed on other people, but it was never satisfied. And it wouldn’t be until you got what you wanted.

One night after months spent walking along the dirt road to get to the juke, Pearline did something unexpected. Instead of walking out the front door and towards the road, she circled around to the back of her home. The air was fresh and biting. With the shift from summer to early fall, the night weather became more bearable. It was the type of weather that made you want to cling on to someone, but since you turned, you lost everyone you had.

You kept up with Pearline in slow steps, keeping an eye out for sticks or heavy brush that would signal your presence. You laid low and out of sight. You felt like a predator to prey, following her every move, trying to anticipate what was next.

That night she wore a dress you had never seen before. It was a dark green silk dress with soft beading on it. It sat low on her chest and high on her thighs, only heightening your senses for her. She smelled divine. Like cocoa butter and magnolia petals—a refreshing combination.

As you followed Pearline through a thicket of trees and into a wide open field, she started humming softly—a tune you remembered dearly. There was a large magnolia that sat planted in the middle with nothing around it but space. As she walked towards it, the moon beamed down on her. Her soft skin glowed. Her body swayed with passion and desire.

The closer you got to her, the more your vampire side came out. Your eyes started to glow yellow. Your teeth protruded from your mouth. Your fingers twitched at your side—just like they had at Club Juke when you were so ready to reach out and touch her.

“Pale, pale moon rising…I don’t care if the sun don’t shine…”

You recognized the tune. It had been stuck in your head every night since you first heard it. The power and reverence in it is something that excited you, but here now, as Pearline sang it softly and quietly, you fell even more in love with it than you had before.

She waded through the tall grasses of the field, fingertips gliding across the seeding tops. She sang, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer if she kept at it. It felt like your body would pounce at any moment, and there was nothing that you could do to stop it.

You walked out from behind a tree and into the field. Confidence ran high throughout your body. You were so, so close. So close to getting what you wanted.

Pearline stopped walking, stopped singing, stopped swaying. She had made it to her destination and stood underneath the gaping magnolia tree. She just faced forward and smoothed her dress down her backside. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow her hands along the top of her ass and down the back of her thighs.

“I know who you are, y/n,” she remedied, still not facing your direction. Her silk-like voice made your body run cold as you had no clue what to do. You stopped mid walk, wondering not only how she knew you were there but how she knew your name. Pearline turned to face you, eyes stoic and unmoving—even when taking in your vampire state. “I saw you at the juke that night, staring at me like yo’ eyes didn’t know where else to be. Yo’ mama ain’t never said it ain’t kind to stare?”

You didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if you could, but your mouth salivated at the way she commanded you. She was damn near reading into your soul with her eyes alone. You stepped forward, confidence returning from your momentary reverie.

“She did,” you said smoothly, just a few feet away from her body. You felt like the blood of your latest victims was coursing through your veins.

You wanted her.

Needed her.

“And my daddy taught me how to find a fine woman, too,” you concurred, fangs gleaming in the moonlight. Her eyes fluttered, the only indication that she was being worn down. The rest of her body was straight, untainted. She stepped into your orbit. Her chest leaned against yours. She peered into your eyes with a squint.

“You been watchin’ me?”

You breathed her in, finally getting to smell her up close. It was dizzying.

“Every night,” you nodded. “I make sure you safe when you walkin’ to the juke. Make sure you safe when you at home with him.”

Pearline looked down, understanding what you meant and unsure how to show her gratitude. Things had been strange around town for a long while now. Folks had been going missing. Rumors had been passed around about haints and vampires and things of the sort. She could always feel you near, but it never worried her.

It excited her.

Her husband hadn’t been giving her what she needed—in the bedroom or otherwise. It’s why she sought out Sammie. It’s why she stayed gone most nights and found things to fill her days besides housewife duties.

And now she could finally see you. Up close and personal.

“I thank you for that,” she sighed, finally meeting your yellow eyes again. She swore they glowed brighter and spoke to her in a way. It was like speaking a language no one understood but you two.

“You welcome.” You felt her chest begin to rise and fall more heavily the longer you stared into her eyes. You never worked this hard for your prey. The chase had never been exciting, just the moment when you got to sink your teeth into plush flesh and t gallons of their sweetness.

Something told you Pearline would taste better than anyone you’d had before. Her skin carried sweet undertones that you could smell from a mile away, and even while standing under a magnolia tree, you could pick up on her unique scent easily.

You lowered your nose to the side of her neck, taking a deep breath in that had you both shivering in delight. Pearline gasped—damn near moaned—and wrapped a hand firmly in your clothes, pulling you impossibly into her.

“Ever since I saw the way you looked at me on that stage, I’ve wanted you,” she admitted, a whine evident in her voice. You grinned against her, resting your fangs against her pulse point. Her thighs clenched together, forcing you to chuckle darkly.

“I’ve wanted you since then too, suga’,” you revealed, pushing her body firmly against the trunk of the magnolia tree. A sharp gust of air left her lungs. “Now that I got you, I’m not gon’ let you go.”

You began kissing Pearline against her jawline and collarbone as she clawed at your body, telling you how much she needed you. Her whimpers mingled in the crisp fall air, and it felt like the world was swirling around you both.

You wanted to revel in this moment. You didn’t want to just ravish her. You wanted to give her what she needed. You had successfully controlled that vampire side of you, even for just a moment as your hands moved to the edges of her dark green dress.

You pushed it up her taut thighs and let your fingers trace along them.

“Please, y/n,” Pearline cried, attempting to get her way. Her hands landed on your back, holding you near. You cloud feel her firm nipples through the sheer fabric of her dress.

“I’ve got you, baby,” you whispered in her ear, letting her know that your only goal was to take care of her. Your fingertips found the edge of her panty line: lacy and slightly damp due to her arousal. Your senses immediately picked up on the scent that wafted off of her: strong, sweet, tangy.

You circled two fingers over her, not yet moving her underwear out of the way in an attempt to prolong her pleasure. She was in desperate need of relief, but you didn’t want it to happen too fast. You wanted both of you to savor its goodness.

She cried on your fingers, thrashing her hips to feel you closer, grabbing a hold of the tree that held her body up. But with your free hand, you stabilized her hips to keep them planted against the tree trunk.

“Fuck, please,” Pearline hummed as you pressed your fingers harder so that she could feel you better. You went back to kissing her neck and collarbone, nipping every now and then but not enough to draw blood. You wanted to save that for later.

Pearline’s hips began to stutter, even with your hand firmly placed on them. She shook against you as your fingers moved swiftly across her throbbing clit. She was so desperate for it, and it caused you to laugh humorously at her. She had tears running down her face, ready to cum after barely being touched. It was enamoring.

“Look at that pretty face,” you giggled, causing her eyes to open and stare directly into your gleaming ones. “You wanna cum, suga’?”

“Please, y/n. Please make me cum,” Pearline nodded profusely, hands tangling in your hair. “I’ll do anything. I promise.” You smiled a devilish smile, but she didn’t retract her statement. She just clung onto you harder.

“Anything,” you repeated in a questioning tone, but she quickly affirmed. It was like she could read your mind. Like y’all were already one even without the sharing of blood. Pearline leaned into your ear as your fingers kept their steady pace on her clit.

“Make me like you,” she cried—her voice certain and confident. “I need you so bad, y/n.” The tears never stopped, and as you were caught in shock, Pearline took matters into her own hands and pulled your head down to her waiting neck. “I said do it,” she screamed, pulling you back to reality.

You pushed her panties to the side, finally making direct contact with her aching pussy. Her body was hot even though the weather was fair. Her desire was dripping off of her and making everything she touched warm.

You licked the sweat that dripped down her neck, causing her to completely crumble. You loved the effect you had on her. You wanted to give her everything she needed for the rest of eternity, and you were going to make sure that started now.

“Oh, God,” she moaned through the tufty leaves of the magnolia, head pointed toward the sky as you inserted two fingers into her. You carefully circled her clit with your thumb in order to not overwhelm her too much.

Her body shook again. Her orgasm was quickly approaching, and her walls clenched tightly around her fingers. She just wouldn’t give in.

“Come on, baby,” you guided her, speaking softly into her ear. “I’ll give you what you want. Just go on and cum for me.” With that, Pearline let go, screaming your name into the night sky: unapologetic.

You smiled as the orgasm wrecked her body and tears streaked down her face.

Before she came down from her high, you extended it by fucking into her in long, deep strokes. As she whimpered loudly, you bowed your head to the soft spot between her neck and her shoulder. Taking a stabilizing breath, you sunk your teeth into her.

As expected, Pearline tasted like nothing you had ever had before. She was smooth like Italian wine, sweet like soft blues music played in a Mississippi juke joint, bright like the last day you remember seeing the sun.

She flooded your senses with so much goodness that everything in your world felt right again.

Before now, you didn’t know how to contend with being otherworldly—with being a vampire—but Pearline changed that for you.

Once you felt satisfied, you removed your fingers from between her legs and laid her body gingerly at the base of the tree. You propped her back against the trunk and almost immediately thrusted your fingers in your mouth to give her a taste.

You could have cried at how delicious she was. Her blood. Her pussy. Her lips. Pearline was a phenomenal woman, and now she was all yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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massiv3tr33p3rsona · 1 month ago

Text

Remember You | Stack X Valerie (Black Fem Vampire OC) / Sammie X Pearline X Valerie

Home Part II.

Pairing(s): Elias ‘Stack’ Moore (Sinners) x Valerie (Black Fem Vampire OC) (Woman in Top Right: Nicole Beharie) and Valerie x Pearline (Sinners) x Sammie ‘Preacher Boy’ Moore (a smidge because this goes into Part III!)

Summary: After avoiding being captured by vampire hunters, Remmick and almost killed by a Klan member, Valerie goes to a juke joint in the middle of nowhere. As she spends time scooping around and flirting with Pearline & Sammy, she runs into Stack, who co-owns the club with Smoke. They have a conversation, where they reminisce about that night they spent together back in Chicago before she was transformed.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, a bit lengthy, slight bisexuality, oral (m receiving, f receiving), titty sucking, choking, slapping, riding, squirting, creampie, slight angst, vampirism, emotional feelings, flashback, mentions of death/rebirth, suicide, and racism, violence, blood, cursing, smoking, drinking, slight spoilers, slight spirituality

Dividers Made By: @uzmacchiato

Parts: I • III • IV • Epilogue • Prequel

A/N I: Annie, Smoke, and Lucinda returns, with Slim, Sammie, Pearline, Cornbread, Mary, Bo, and Grace making their first appearances. And please ignore that Valerie is eating some of the catfish. Didn’t know garlic powder was in the seasoning. And I’m aware that the Saint Valentine’s Day massacre was during the day, but it sounds better at night for some reason. Also may have went a little too crazy with the violence in one section.

THIS IS MY WORK, SO PLEASE DO NOT STEAL IT

Its night time as the dark forest and dirt road glows under the pale moonlight, the cool evening air breezing. But, it’s disturbed by movement, particularly running.

Running down the road is a beautiful brownskin woman in a torn up floral dress and white sandals, hair loose and fear all over her. She constantly turns around to make sure no one is following her, being prepared to fight back if necessary.

Just about two hours ago, she was almost kidnapped by a devil incarnated vampire named Remmick, his wife and two other members, looking to start their own community of invoking evil into bodies to control.

Little did they know, Valerie was one herself.

About three and a half years ago, on a rainy night in downtown Chicago, Valerie was turned into one by her maker, Eros, after taking her own life by jumping off the bridge into the Chicago River and washing up on a dock. She learned how to live, behave, and eat like a vampire while recovering, even got the gift of hearing most people’s thoughts, which helped with having perfect survival and hunting skills.

Which lead to issue #2: an almost deadly encounter with the local Choctaw Vampire Hunters.

An hour after getting away from Remmick, she was startled by a group of Native men on horses passing by, causing her to fall and tear her dress in some areas. As she got up, she hissed at the horses and shown her fangs, scaring the animals back. One of them knocked their rider off, making all of them block Valerie from leaving, cornering her.

As she realized he was carrying things that can kill a vampire and has no way out, one of them jumps down to question her. Just as he was getting close, he gets ambushed by some shadow, with the rest of the man being attacked similarly. She looks up and sees Remmick floating in the air, blood covering his mouth and eyes glowing red.

“Join us, Valerie. You’ll fit in nice……you already one of us. I can smell your cinnamon magnolia scent from here.” he said, lowering himself to ground.

Valerie picks up a glass of an unidentifiable liquid from one of the deceased riders and throws it at him, hitting his arm. He lets out a hiss and begins rolling on the ground to get it off, giving her an opportunity to run away as fast as she could.

As she was getting further and further into the forest, she can see more Choctaw Hunters pulling up through the view of trees, making sure to avoid them while they past. Their blood scent roams through her nose, but she refuses to let her hunger cost her life and continued on. Now here she is, not where to do next now that she’s lost.

“Where am I gonna go..” she whispers, walking on the side.

Suddenly, she hears a car slowing driving up, making her walk on the side to avoid getting hit, not looking back. The car, a black Bentley 8 Litre, passes by, not seeing her. It stops and begins reversing, making her pause her movements.

Hiding her hands behind her back, she extends them into long and sharp fingers, preparing to defend herself as the car stop in front of her. The windows rolls down, with the driver revealing itself as a older, overweight white man, wearing a black and white plaid suit and gold framed glasses.

“Good evening, young lady. Are you lost?” he asked in a Southern Mississippi accent, looking her up and down.

As she walks up, she looks at the inside of his car, making sure nothing seemed off about it.

“Maybe.” as she moved her hair to the side, her fingers back to normal. “You know where I’m at?”

“Just outside of Clarksdale, north to be exact.. Never seen folks like you around here.” he replied.

“Folks, huh….” she said, side-eying him.

“Not like that!” as he holds his hands up in a surrendering way. “Normally, they travel mostly west or east. I can take you there if you like. You look like you need something.”

Valerie looks at the man with a highbrowed expression, thinking about his offer.

He seems like he knows where to take me, she says in her head, hearing his heart beating accompanying as background noise.

Hope she doesn’t realize my actual plan if she gets in, he says in his head, which she hears.

Valerie is appalled by this, very shocked that he has pure malicious attention behind his innocent facade he has on.

You’re so dumb and oblivious for saying that. But now, I have my dinner for the night, she says, smiling a bit.

“You know if any fabrics store is open this hour? I do need a new dress.” she asked, leaning against the window so her breasts are in his view.

“N-no, ma’am. We close at 10 every night due to curfew.” he said as he looks at them. “However, my late wife has a lot of dresses she left behind at the house. I can lend some to you and drop you off downtown if you’re comfortable with that.” he said, having a profaned look on his face.

“….deal.” she utters instantly.

“Good! Hop right on in so I can get to moving.” he said as he opens the door for her.

Valerie gets in, closing the door and putting on her seatbelt as the man begins driving, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Name’s Harold.” he said, making her look at him.

“Valerie.” she replied.

“Valerie, huh? You don’t sound like you from arounds here.” he said as he steps on the pedal a bit.

“You would be correct. I’m from Chicago originally.”

Great. Another nig from there coming down here to infect the city more. he utters in his head.

Racist idiot. “…..got something against Chicago?” she asked, making him snap out of his contraction.

“Huh?”

Valerie laughs, facing forward as she adjusts into her seat, noticing a KKK blond drop symbol patch on his dashboard.

And you’re a member of the Klu Klux Klan? Wow, you’re gonna be an easy kill tonight, she said in a delightful tone.

“You went silent as soon as I said that.” she replied.

“Oh no! My friend just sold something to two black brothers from out there today, so you’re like the third one I’m running across.”

“Mm.”

“What brings you out here?”

“Wanted to start over as I outgrew living up there. I’m going to miss the night life though.”

“Night life?” as he scoffed. “You prefer that more than day time?”

“Day time drags on too long for my liking. Night life brings out everyone. Even the *bad.” she says at she looks at him.

“What, you liking hanging around those types of people?”

“Not really.” as she stretched out her legs, feeling his gaze.

She rubs her hand over her calf, slowly trailing her fingers up her body until she stops at her neck, hearing his heart beating going fast.

“Only the ones who don’t mind following under my control.” she added, saying it in a seductive tone.

Harold stares with lust, accidentally jerking the car wheel, which almost ran the vehicle off the road, going back to paying attention to it.

God I need to get her home fast, he said in his head.

Valerie smirks, patiently waiting for them to arrive to his house so she can indulge him and no one will come and help.

About 30 minutes later, the car pulls up to a red bricked house, with a roofed garage attached to it.

Harold parks the car and gets out, quickly walking to Valerie side to help her out of the car.

“Thank you, Harold. I really do appreciate you for this.” she says as she grabs his hand and steps out.

“No worries, me lady.” he replied, making the both of them laugh.

They walk to the door, with Harold looking through his keys, trying to find the house one. Valerie looks around the area, hearing a loud noise in the distance.

“Do you know what that noise is?” she asks, looking at him.

“Probably the brothers’ new club.” he replied, sticking the key in to unlock the door.

Which will be a killing field for us come tomorrow, he says, laughing as he opens the door, stepping aside.

You won’t make it and neither will they, she says as she walks in, giving him a smile.

Harold steps in and closes the door, turning on the lights to brighten the room. Valerie looks around, taking in the white walls, black furniture, and red items design.

Yeah, you’re definitely Klan with these color scheme you went with, she says as he clapped his hands.

“Alright. I’m gonna go bring in some dresses and shoes from upstairs. Bathroom is down the hall on your left. There’s some clean hair rollers and brushes she left behind. Be right back!” he said, walking past her.

Valerie nods, watching him head up the stairs, disappearing into the ceiling. She begins walking down the hallway, looking at the few photos he has hanging on his walls.

His wedding picture. A family picture of them with his kids. Him with a group of friends, holding up guns and a Confederate flag. Gross. And lastly, a picture of him getting sworn into the Klu Klux Klan as other members watch. The names of each member is listed, align with their face:

Bert Hogwood, Joan Smith-Hogwood, Charles Hogwood, Harold Hogwood, Jeffrey Johnson, and David Lee Hart. Noted.

She looks at it for a few more minutes before continuing walking. Passing a room with a door open, she see Harold’s white Klu Klux Klan robe lying on a chair in room surrounded by guns and knifes.

Hm….maybe I should take something while he’s not looking.

She looks at each gun lined up against the wall, turns away as they are too big for her to even carry out. She then looks at the desk where knives are laid out, examining each one. A gold holder catches her attention, picking it up. Taking it out, the knife is a reflective 8 inch, blade is sharp enough to cut through the skin easy.

“Yeah, Ima take you.” she mumbles, putting it back in the holder.

Hearing Harold coming down the steps, she put holder into the top of the dress and scurries to the bathroom.

She pretends to be preoccupied by the rollers when Harold appears at the door, holding dresses in one hand and boxes of shoes in the other as she looks at him.

“I see I have options.” she said, a smile on her face.

“Yeah, I was struggling to figure out which ones will look great on you as she had so many dresses.” he says, placing the boxes on the counter and the dresses behind the door.

He stands there as Valerie looks at the dresses, examining each one.

“Well. I’ll be back in an hour to check on you so I could take you downtown. Does that sound okay with you?” he asks.

“Sounds fine.” she replied.

“Good! I’ll let you get to it, Miss Valerie.” he says, turning away.

“Thank you again. I do really appreciate this, Harold.” she says as he walks off.

Good. That’s the last time you’ll appreciate anything, he says.

Same for you, she says as she closes the door.

Valerie looks in the mirror, thinking about what is she gonna do to him now that she has an hour to get ready. Many ideas run through ahead, from ways of luring him in or how brutal she should go out for him, but nothing lands.

Then, she remembers his robe is on the chair in the room, giving her a glorious idea for the execution as she began to do her hair.

An hour later, Harold gets up from the couch, begins to walk down the hallway. Just as he getting close, the lights go out, instantly making him mad.

“What the fuck?!” he utters, stomping his feet.

He turns around and goes to where the light switch was, flicking it on and off to success. He grabs the flashlight on the table and turns it on, taking his pistol he had hidden in the back of his pants.

“You okay, Valerie? Did the lights go out in the bathroom?” he asks in a loud voice as he slowly begins to walk.

No answer.

That woman better not have escaped, he says getting close.

Suddenly, a woman’s moaning echoes the hallway, making him pause his movement. It sounds like she’s singing beautifully, which makes Harold slowly get hard.

“What the….” he whispers, continuing his walk.

As he gets closer to the bathroom, the door to his weapons slowly opens, catching his attention. Pointing the gun and flashlight at it, he kicks open the door, watching it swing open.

The window behind his desk is open, blowing some air in. Knives? Looked untouched. But his klan robe that was lying on the chair? Gone. He turns to see if any of his weapons have gone missing and is startled by a figure, causing him to fall into the door.

As he gets back on his feet, he realizes the figure, holding its head down, is wearing his robe and mask, making him point his gun and flashlight towards it, cocking the gun.

“Who the hell are you and why in God’s name do you have on my robe?!” he yells.

The figure lifts its head up, with glowing green eyes. It begins moaning again. Its remove the mask, revealing itself as Valerie, who now had a sinister smirk plastered on her face.

“You liked that, did you?” she asks, causing him to drop his gun and flashlight as fear takes over him.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asks in a scared voice.

“What happened to me? I say….. a rebirth.” she utters, walking towards him.

Harold runs out, but just as he was getting close to the front door, Valerie respawns in front of him, causing him to fall into the living room.

“My old life in Chicago, I have freedom and felt like I was seen with my community work, helping out my people who lived there or came to escape from whatever they were going through. But that changed after I got my heart broken by someone I thought cared about me. So I took my own life.” she utters, somberness taking over her.

“Well, you should’ve stayed dead, nig!” he utters, crawling backwards to get away.

Valerie chuckles as she takes out the dagger, stabbing the core part of Harold’s foot, paling him to the floor. He screams in agony, watching him turn red as she climbs on top of him.

“But someone saw potential in me and transformed me into a new person. So I came down here to start a new life since Chicago is slowly dying and instantly, I almost died over how I looked twice so far. Would’ve been three hadn’t I heard the ability to hear people’s thoughts and your plans on killing me and my people in your little racist head.” she says as she wraps her hand, her fingers now long and sharp, around his neck, squeezing it.

He begins choking, filling the tightness from her hand, closing in his throat, preventing oxygen from coming in as she leans down to his face.

“And you know what I say to that? Instead of fearing being killed for how I look, I no longer fear that now I have the power to take out anyone who wishes to cause harm against me and my people as they get in my way.” she states as she moves his head up, exposing his neck more.

“Please…” he begs in a dried painful voice. “I’ll let you live if you just let me go.”

“……see you in hell, Harold.” is the last thing she utters.

Valerie opens her mouth, revealing her fangs as she chomps on Harold’s neck hard, beginning to suck the blood out. His screams fills the room he attempt to break out of her hold, but the pain is preventing it from succeeding.

She lifts her head up, his blood spread all over her face in the robe as she looks down at his half decaying self, tears falling out of his eyes.

“Oh honey….I promise this will all go away soon. Just let me get to the good part of you.” she whispers, pulling the dagger out of his foot.

She gets off him, kneeling on the left side of his body. Holding the dagger over his chest, she stabs through it, cutting a hole through it. As she uses all of her strength to push the blade around, she watches his body and leak blood from his eyes, mouth, ears and nose, the pressure pushing through all areas.

After completing the hole, she moves the layer of his skin, which exposes his heart. She yanked the heart out, watching it beat hard in her hand as she brings it to her face.

She smells it, groaning at the delicious essence it gives off before biting into it, indulging each bite.

“I’m gonna finish it before I leave so now by finds a dead body tomorrow.” she mumbled into an evil laugh, kicking at his leg.

She takes another bite, moaning at the texture and taste as the moonlight shines on her bloody looking self and his dead body.

Pulling up in the dead man’s car, Valerie looks at herself in the mirror.

Hair curled and layered, silk green dress fitting tight and kept her girlies up, and black flats fitting comfortably, she smiles.

Flashing two single gold bottom tooth grills she made from a watch and Harold’s teeth, she looks good for someone that just killed and ingest someone’s body about 45 minutes ago.

“Remember, Valerie: do not show your true self while you’re around all these people, dancing, drinking, and all that.” she said, grabbing the tan fur shawl in the seat and getting out.

Locking the car and adjusting the holder hiding above her underwear, she walks to the building, with the name, ‘Club Juke’ etched in red paint on the hanging sign above the front entrance.

Feeling people staring at her and some guys whistling as she walked by, she patiently waits in line, watching the two bodyguards turn people away or let them in until they got to her.

“Good evening, ma’am. Welcome to Club Juke!” said the tall, straw hat, overalls wearing man, smiling at her.

“Good evening to you as well, Mr??” she asked, a smile appearing on her face.

“Cornbread. I have another name, but because I’ve only ate cornbread growing up, that’s how I got the name.” he replied, laughing a bit.

“Wait…..” as she looks at him, a shocked look on her face. “You’re Cornbread?”

“Yeah? Just said that a few seconds ago?” he replied, confusion on his face.

What is this lady’s problem?, he utters in his head.

“Sorry. Had my friend who mentioned you to me added that you were this tall, I would’ve worn some heels at least.” she replied, earning a laugh from him.

Thank god I didn’t make it a little too awkward, she utters.

“I get that a lot from unfamiliar faces. But, ima let you in. And hope you have a good time, alright now?” he replied, moving to the side.

Valerie nods before walking in, greeting the other bodyguard as she passes by.

And bless whoever gets with her because damn…..if I wasn’t married, I would be all over her, Cornbread utters.

Too bad you’re not my type, she says.

As she enter the building, she can feel the vibe of the atmosphere flowing through. The music is loud and booming, with attendees dancing and drinking, some chatting and eating as the elder pianist plays on the stage, moving side to side.

She looks at him, taking in some familiar features that she has seen before. Parted hair, gold front tooth, a beer on the piano, and he’s moving to the music under his fingers.

Where have I seen this man before…

“Slim is a good player, huh?” asked an unfamiliar female Creole accent voice.

Valerie turns to her right and sees a short, plus size, darkskin woman with bangs and long hair standing next to her, watching the performance.

“Slim?” she replied.

“Delta Slim. We usually refer to him as Slim around here.”

That’s who that was. Good ole Slim.

“Oh right. I forgot that’s his first name. Then again, he hasn’t been to Chicago in a long time.” she added, leaning against the pole.

“You’re from Chicago?” the woman asks, curiosity in her tone.

“I is. I thought it was obvious with my accent.”

“I never been out there. But, my girlfriend’s husband just came back from there today, though.” the woman replied, drinking from her water.

“What’s your name if you don’t mind me asking?” asked Valerie, pulling out a cigarette and lighter from her chest.

“Lucinda. I work for Annie and well….date her.” said the woman, causing Valerie to pause.

Why does that name sound familiar as well?

“You’re not Annie?” is what Valerie replied, earning an intense stare from Lucinda.

“Nah. May I ask why?” she asked.

Dont tell me one of his whores traveled all the way down here to start trouble, said Lucinda.

Either this woman knows of me or its a misunderstanding, said Valerie, lighting up her cigarette and smoking it.

“That name. Annie. Haven’t heard it in a long time, but I don’t know where. Maybe I heard it when I was still in Chicago or it’s just a name I heard when I was on the road. But I don’t mean no harm at all.” said Valerie, blowing smoke out.

“No harm?” said Lucinda, who is noticeably irritated. “What do you mean by that? Are you someone that’s coming to ruin shit? Because if so you can ge—“ as she raises her voice.

Valerie’s anger was about to come out when a small Asian woman comes up to them, gently tapping Lucinda’s shoulder, making her turn.

“Sorry, Lu. But Annie needs you in the kitchen. We’re running low on the mixed rice.” the woman says.

“…yeah, I’ll be there in a few, Grace.” Lucinda replied, before turning back to Valerie.

She steps into her space, leaning forward as Valerie eyes her.

“This isn’t over. But I’ll let you slide this time. However, you pull something evil against my girlfriend or her husband, I’m gonna be the first person you’ll see charging at you.” she utters, making Grace look at her in a crazy way.

Valerie chuckles, leaning in to close the distance as Lucinda’s scent arises to her nose, making her sniff a bit.

Baby breath, sea salt, lavender, and nutmeg? Is this a witch in my presence or someone who is about to find out they’re pregnant in a few weeks?, said Valerie.

“Aye aye, captain.” replied Valerie.

Agbere (Whore), utters Lucinda as she turns away, walking to the kitchen.

Valerie rolls her eyes as Grace turns to follow her back.

“Just so you know: I’m not here to start anything.” she utters, making Grace look back.

“Excuse me?” said Grace.

“I’m just trying to understand where am I at and how come a lot of things I am discovering sound very familiar to me. I promise I’m not trying to start issues.” she stated, making Grace look confused.

Why is she saying this to me…, Grace uttered.

”She’s probably just exhausted. We did spend all day building this so we can open tonight.” she added, a small smile on her face.

“Well. It’s a beautiful job you all did. Especially whoever made the front sign.” said Valerie, inhaling more of her cigarette.

Grace stared at her for a bit before continuing, feeling like she’s getting a weird vibe from her.

“Thank you. It was the only color we had. But I am gonna go back. If you’re hungry, we have catfish, greens, white rice, and mixed rice. If you’re thirsty, we have water, Irish beer, Italian wine, and moonshine. And enjoy the music, of course!” Grace said in a fast way as she headed back to the kitchen.

What an odd way to exit, said Valerie.

The audience cheers as Slim stands up, taking in the positive reception.

“Y’all having a good time at Club Juke?!” he asked in an exciting voice.

The audience yells “Yeah!” in unison, making him blush a bit.

“Y’all want me to continue?” he asks.

“Hell Yeah!” is what the audience shouts back, making him nod erratically before he takes another sip of his beer and sits down, beginning to play again.

As Valerie turns to walk, she bumps into a woman, accidentally knocking her down.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you…..” she begins to say while helping her up.

As the woman stand ups, Valerie takes in her looks. Her deep brown skin shines under the lights as the beauty mark on her cheek enhances the curve of her cheekbone. Her lips look fluffy and a perfect shape as her eyes flutter, making eye contact with her.

“There.” she added, not letting go of the woman’s arm.

“It’s fine.” the soft Southern accent woman said as she gently removed her arm. “Most people tend to not see me walking by.”

Her ambery vanilla and blood scent roams through Valerie’s nostrils, making her inhale and slightly, feeling a buzz go through her.

“That’s sad.” she said, earning a slight squint from the woman.

“How so?” she asked, folding her arms in.

Valerie smiles, putting her cigarette out before sliding the lighter back into her top, the woman watching.

“They’re missing out on the radiance you bring when you walk into the room.” she says as she steps forward, taking in her green scarf and silk dress.

“Your confidence and elegance also elevates that. If they missed out on that….good luck with finding something better.” she added, sending her a seductive smirk.

The woman smiles back, putting her arms down.

“You sure you don’t have someone waiting for you in here?” the woman asks.

“No. Haven’t felt that in years actually. You?” asked Valerie.

Yeah. But he doesn’t have to know, said the woman, making Valerie smile slightly as the woman turns.

“I do. But he’s home.” she replied, walking away.

“Yet..you��re here.” said Valerie, following her.

“I would tread lightly if I were you.” said the woman, side eying her.

“I’ll listen because you asked nicely.” as Valerie fixed her shawl. “What brings you out here?”

“Someone I know is playing tonight and I thought I come to see it for myself. If only I can find him…” she said, looking around the room.

“He’s good?” asked Valerie as they begin to walk together.

“Yeah. Met him at the train station today where him and Slim were playing while one of his twin cousins was promoting this place.”

Twins? Cousins? Okay, where the hell am I at because why is this also familiar to me..

A young man in a brown hat, white shirt, light brown sweater and pants, and brown shoes walks up, smiling at the woman.

“You came.” he said to her, a deep Southern Mississippi voice coming out.

…He is truly blessed with sounding like that, said Valerie, feeling herself get hot.

“I did. Couldn’t miss your performance.” the woman said to him.

The man looks at Valerie, taking in her beauty.

Wow….she’s just as beautiful as Pearline, he said, looking Valerie up and down.

“Could’ve told me the man was young and handsome.” said Valerie, looking at Pearline.

“Didn’t think you would be interested. Since we just met.” Pearline replied, looking back at her.

“Oh? You making friends already.” the man said.

“Don’t might having another one. I can handle two at once.” said Valerie, eyeing the both of them.

Pearline bits her lips as the man smirks, impressed by that response.

This woman is going to be the death of me more than him, said Pearline, wiping her face a bit.

Will gladly be that for you…and him, said Valerie, adjusting her stance.

“Where are my manners?” as she holds out her hand. “Name’s Valerie. I’m from Chicago.”

“Pearline. I’m from outside of Clarksdale.” she said.

“Sammie. Also known as ‘Preacher Boy’. I’m from around here.” he said, taking Valerie’s hand and kissing it.

His woody spice and blood scent tickles her nostrils, making her smile a bit.

“Wow, y’all smell delicious.” she mumbles.

“Hm?” said Sammie, confusion on his face.

“I mean…” as she cleared her throat. “Wow. You’re the one who plays the guitar.”

“Yeah.” he nods. “Been practicing for a while.”

“Must feel a little nervous doing your first performance here.” said Pearline.

“A little, but my confidence is great now. Thanks to my cous….” he said, trailing off.

He looks past both women, seeing something that’s bothering him.

“Can you two excuse me for a moment?” he utters, walking towards whatever the issue is.

Valerie watches him, seeing him walk up to a white woman in a light pink silk dress, a matching shawl, and brunette bob, beginning to say something to her.

However, she focuses on the woman, her familiar presence lingering in her mind, making her think about where she has seen her.

“…I have a question.” she said, looking at Pearline.

“Go ahead.” she replied.

“You said “one of his twin cousins” earlier.”

“Yeah. I did. Why?”

“…who are the twins? Feels like I’m missing something…but I’m also aware?” she stated, feeling herself body getting hot.

Why does it feel like deja vu is happening… she utters to herself.

“You never heard of the SmokeStack Twins? Especially in Chicago? They like to run around, terrorizing people while making deals. Why?”

Smoke….Stack….Twins. SmokeStack Twins. Smoke and Stack!, she utters, her body getting hotter.

Valerie begins to tremble, stumbling back a bit as Pearline watches, a worrying look on her face.

“Val, are you okay?” she asks, attempting to reach her to keep her stable.

“I think I need to g—“ was all Valerie could get out.

Suddenly, as she was turning, she runs into something hard, causing her to tumble forward but keep her on her feet.

She pushes herself back up, but whatever she ran into keeps her up, with a pair of hands holding her up as she comes back to herself.

“Damn, girl! You almost knocked yourself out running into m….” said the familiar, thick Southern accent voice, trailing off with the last word.

As Valerie opens her eyes, she sees the face that broke her heart three years ago, causing her to take her own life. Hair slicked back, mustache bushy, a little more older but still sculpted, lips still full and his mouth slight opened, showing off the gold grillz in his mouth.

Stack.

“Elias?” she blurts out, her mind going blank as she watches his lip tremble.

“Valerie? Is this…this really you?” he asked, tears beginning to form.

Valerie nods, feeling herself get emotional as he pulls her in an embrace, hugging her tightly. She hugs him back, hearing his heartbeating fast and his cedarwood patchouli scent invading her airwaves

She missed this. She missed how he felt, how he smelled, and how he looked. This was the man she knew from home.

Now she’s in his home.

“I thought…..thought you died?” he whispered, looking down at her. “We were at your funeral and all…”

“Um…..no.” as she pulls back. “I..I survived that jump. And swam to shore. Ran away because I was too…embarrassed to show that um…” she says, hearing herself getting choked up.

“It’s okay.” he said, squeezing hand. “It’s a miracle you’re still with us. Surprised you’re even here. At me and Smoke’s juke joint!” he exclaims, holding his arm up.

Still the same ole Stack. Just as I remember, she said, smiling.

She knows him?, said Pearline, eyeing him a bit.

Smoke is gonna freak out when he finds out you alive, said Stack, a bastardly smile on his face as he looks Valerie up and down.

“You know ole girl here, right?” said Pearline, sucks the moment out.

Mary.

“She is?!” he said, annoyance in his voice as he looked across the room and sees her taking to Sammie, trying to get away from him.

“Yeah. But I can go distract her so Sammie isn’t doing it by himself if you want.”

“Please do. Me and um…Valerie, have a lot to catch up on.” he said, keeping a lustful gaze on Valerie.

“Will do. See you later, Valerie.” said Pearline as she squeezes Val’s shoulder and walks to Sammie, with Valerie watching.

You too. Cause I’m damn sure not missing out on messing with you and Preacher Boy, she said before turning back to Stack.

“Let’s go somewhere private, shall we?” he said, pulling her to walk.

Her stomach growls, pausing her movement.

Girl, you just ate a whole body an hour ago. How you hungry again?!, she yelps, grabbing her stomach.

“I would love to. But maybe we should get some food and drinks as well?” she asks, smiling a bit.

Stack nods, looking at Sammie and Pearline perfectly distracting Mary before looking back at Valerie.

“Alright. I did promise you I was going to introduce you to Annie’s cooking. She got some good ass catfish right now.” he says as they begin walking, arms hooked.

“I bet. That Grace lady said they also got some sides too.” she added, hearing him laugh.

“Yup. Different rices. Greens. Even pickled garlic.”

Valerie’s stomach kicked in, having an uneasy reaction to the mention of garlic.

“Can’t do that. I’m allergic, unfortunately.” she reveals, lying through her teeth.

“What?! Last time I saw you, you were saying garlic is the best damn thing to have in the kitchen, girl!” he yelps, shocked at that reveal.

“Well…a lot of things have changed since we last each other.” she states shrugging her shoulders.

He nods, pulling her close.

“You ain’t wrong.” as he leans in. “Cause last time I seen you….your eyes was a bit darker and brown. Now they are hazel green?” he asks with a confused look on his face.

She chuckles, looking down to hold in her laugh.

“Wait until I tell you about my medical condition. Trust me. It’s a long story.” she said, stretching the last part out.

“Oh trust. We got enough time in the world right now.” he said, looking at her with admiration.

Even in a dead body, she can feel that he has never lost the love he had for her. Which makes her feel very special in this moment in this moment at the juke joint.

They walk up to the kitchen, where he formally introduces her to Annie, who greets her with a warm smile. He had her make Valerie’s plate, where he tells her to avoid the garlic as she is now allergic to them.

As she watches, she notices that she can’t hear Annie’s thoughts, which she thought was strange. They go to Grace and Lucinda, where he orders them both Irish Beers while keeping his gaze on her.

After grabbing the drinks, he takes her to the poker room, where he gets them a table in the corner, a perfect way to hide from anyone he doesn’t want to be seen by.

Especially Mary.

Stack says a quick prayer before they begin indulging, both moaning at the crispness and well seasoned food in front of them.

“Annie sure can cook.” said Valerie, dipping her piece of catfish into hot sauce before biting it.

“Told you! That’s why we always rely on her to make food cause we do not trust anyone’s cooking out here.” he replied, biting into his fork of greens.

“Also, when did Annie and….?” as she tilts her head towards Lucinda, who was standing behind the window cooking, making Stack follows her direction.

He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink before clearing his throat.

“Trust me. I was a bit shocked myself at him he saying “Annie’s worker AND girlfriend” when they first arrived.” he replied, making her laugh.

“I see. Well, if they’re happy, I’m not judging.”

Speaking of, he said.

“How you been? I’m still…blown at the fact that you’re alive after we *buried you?” he asked, making her look at him.

“Yeah, it was a mistaken identity thing, apparently. Probably why they didn’t open the casket. From what I was told.” she replied, sipping her drink.

“But. I went to Memphis. Stayed there for almost two years, eating their food. Dancing to their music. Helping out the community.” she added.

And what she meant by helping out was killing all of the rapists, murderers, and predators that targeted primarily women and children. Even some officers who abused their power.

“Then I went back to Chicago and laid low. Was shocked that I still had access to my place. And now…..I’m down here. Eating and drinking, and soon-to-be dancing at Club Juke!” she stated, laughing a bit at the last part.

Stack nods, a small smile on his face, looking like a proud man watching someone he admires doing something good.

“That’s good to hear that you’re doing something with your life.” he said with a grin.

“What about you?” she asked, turning her body towards him.

Stack looks down, taking in her legs before looking back up, seeing her eyeing him seductively.

“We finally got out of Chicago. Capone went down, the city started falling apart, and well…North Side can’t really fix the mess they and South Side caused.” he replied.

“Is that how you and Smoke managed to steal Irish Beer and Italian Wine from both sides?” she asked, sipping her drink.

“They won’t notice since they hate each other. Especially since they can’t tell us apart, which makes it even more fun for us.” he replied, eating a piece of the catfish.

“That seems to be a common thing you like to say. Makes me wonder…”

“Wonder what?” he said, instantly squinting his eyes.

Valerie laughs, amused at how angry he’s slowly getting over a simple sentence.

“Is this really Stack? Or did you two trade places so the real one can avoid not just me because he still doesn’t forgive himself for what happened between us and the result of it. But Mary as well.” she utters, resting her chin on her hand while looking at him.

Stack looks away, his face twitching as he feels her intense stare burning the side of his face. His heart races, causing butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

I would never do some shit like that with Smoke. Considering how much I can’t stand Annie, he uttered, clearing his throat.

Annie too womanly for you? Cause she doesn’t act like a dog chasing…, Valerie utters, disgust flowing in her head.

“You know her momma passed, right?” he revealed.

Valerie scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“You think I give a fu—“ she exclaimed but is cut off by him.

“I know you don’t care.” he stated. “Especially after how she treated you. And um, we ended.” he said, looking down.

The two sat in silence as the piano and crowding cheering grows louder as Smoke passes by in the doorway, not noticing them.

Why is it so awkward to talk to you? I don’t get it, he uttered.

Guilt, she responded.

“How’s Hollie?” she asked, biting into her piece of catfish.

“Woah.” Stack said as he places his hand on her leg, leaning forward.

“Don’t….don’t bring her up in here. Its already bad that Mary’s here, let along you being in here too.” he said in a low tone voice as he moved his hand closer to her thigh.

Valerie felt her lips clenched, feeling the effects of his deep voice slowly taking over and her fangs almost coming out, but she stops herself.

“…she nor Annie knows, huh?” she replied.

“And they never will as long as you keep your mouth shut. You hear me?” he said, getting closer.

Valerie leans forward, closing in the distance between them.

“Annie won’t care cause they were separated, so she got someone else to fill in her needs. Mary on the other hand….” she says in a low tone voice.

“That’s all on you because you made that bed and it’s trying your best to destroy it. But I know deep down inside, you do really love her because even when you’re avoiding her, she keeps you excited. And I can feel it brewing off of you because I know you.” as she leans in for a kiss.

As Stack is about to kiss her, she pulls back, removing his hand and going back to normal as if nothing happened.

“I just wanna know when’s the last time you seen Hollie, that’s all.” she states in her normal voice.

Stack looks down, attempting to laugh the pain away, but fails. He’s in disbelief that she curved him just like that.

“Last time we seen her was at your funeral. Told us that she was going back to New York to become a showgirl, leaving everything she did in Chicago behind.” he said, taking out a cigarette to smoke.

“Ever wanted to go there?” she asked, finishing her rice and greens.

“Yeah. Might go on my own this time.” as he finish his drink.

“You should.”

“How come?”

“Elias….” as she wraps her hand around his arm. “How long are you gonna continue dragging Elijah into everything? Lord knows the man is tired.”

“How would you know?” as he lights up the cigarette, smoking it. “You just came back tonight. After being a dead woman walking for years.”

“Because he saves your ass each time something happens to you. Seems like he gotta lead you every single way he can.”

“You watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” as she leans forward. “You’re gonna get him to harm me? Since you’re too scared to do it yourself?”

“I ain’t scared of nothing” as he leans forward. “Especially you.”

Valerie laughs, grabbing his smoke ridden face.

“Yet…that night we shared after that shootout told a different story.” she said, tracing over his lips.

She can hear him growling low before grabbing his hand with the cigarette, bringing it to her mouth. She inhaling, blowing the smoke into his face, watching him blink as she lets go.

She’s playing hard to get, he utters.

I sure am.

“It did. Because you’re remembering it wrong.” he said, licking his lips.

“Oh, I am?” she asked, watching him laugh.

“Yeah. Cause remember we were running away from the cops…” he begins, adjusting his seat.

The music, crowd cheering and dancing, and the the men playing poker fades around them as Stack retells the night from his view.

Saint Valentine’s Day 1929

Swinging the door open, Valerie and Stack run inside, with the latter shutting and locking the the door fast, guarding it.

Hold up his gun, he looks at Valerie, who is leaned against the wall, catching her breath.

“Remind me to wear flats next time cause boy, I’m not strong enough to run in heels.” she said as she removed them.

“And look at the hole in my favorite purple dress!” she hisses, looking at the tattered fabric between her legs.

“I’ll get you a new one.” he replied softly as he removed his shoes.

Stack walks to the window, peeping behind the curtains. Watching the cops run by, he puts his gun on the table, removing his jacket as Valerie throws her shawl on the chair.

“And there will probably not be a next time after that shit that happened.” he replied, looking at her.

“You might be right. They been looking for reason to take out Capone and this might do him in.” she said, turning to walk into the kitchen.

“Which means I’ll be finally free for a bit. Until me and Smoke come up with our next move.”

Valerie shakes her head as she smiles, taking out two glass cups from the cabinet.

“You already have a concept of a plan while not wondering if your brother made it out.” she said, taking out a water pitcher from the fridge.

“I know he made it out.” as he unbuttons his shirt, removing it and placing it near his jacket, leaving him in his undershirt.

“How you know?” she asks as she pours water into each glass.

“He said he was gonna be the first out when he arrives with the Irish folks, making sure he doesn’t get caught in the ambush. Just as we were coming to the floor, I saw him hop in a car and drove out, making sure he has an alibi in case they come looking for him.” he replied, walking towards her.

“Hm.” is all she said as she hands him a glass before picking hers up.

Stack takes it, drinking a bit of it before leaning against her fridge, staring at her.

“Do I fall anywhere into your plan?” she asks, jump onto the counter to sit down.

“Yeah, if you’re willing to leave.” he replied, his voice getting a little sleepy.

“Always a catch with you.” she said, drinking some of her water.

“Cause I know you love it here so much. But no matter where I go…..I’ll always come back to see you.”

“Even if it’s on the other side of the world?” as she spreads her legs open, feeling him look down.

“Even if I’m only 10 minutes away.” he replied, finishing the rest of his glass.

Valerie smiles, laying her head back as she places her glass next to her, feeling herself getting hot.

“Come here.” she whispers, motioning him to come to her.

Stack places his glass on the counter as he walks to her, getting between her legs as she looks at him, rubbing her hands over his shoulders, feeling the muscular curves around it.

“Like what you see?” he asks in a low tone, tensing a bit as she traces over his chest.

“Always.” as she slides her hand up his shirt, tracing his abs.

Stacks growls, wrapping his hand around her neck as he lifts her face up, hearing her whimper as he leans in, a few feet away from her lips.

“Val?”

“Yes, Elias?”

“..I love you.” he admits, looking at her with lust in his eyes.

“…I love you too.” she replied, looking at him.

Stack smiles before placing his lips over hers, giving her a sloppy kiss. The lovers fight over dominance while breathing hard and rubbing over each other, but Stack gets the upper hand by lifting Valerie up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.

Gently laying her on the bed, Stack breaks the kiss, helping her remove her dress by ripping it in half, hearing her squeal.

“Told you I’ll get you a new one.” he said, kisses her once more.

Valerie giggles as she sat up, helping Stack remove his undershirt before reaching down to unbuckle the belt and remove it, watching him remove his pants. She can see an outline of his throbbing dick through his underwear, precum leaking through.

He climbs back onto the bed, hovering over her as he begins kissing her neck. She moans softly as he trails down to her breasts, taking one into his mouth while wrapping his hand around the other one, fondling it.

“Just like that.” she whispers, rubbing his head as he flicks her nipple with his tongue, sucking back on it.

He moves to the other one, moving his hand to the one he finished as he engulfs the other one, slightly biting down. He hears her panting hard as he removes himself, letting out a POP! sound.

“You ready for me?” he asks, tracing his fingers over her underwear.

Valerie nods, feeling him grab her underwear and yank it off in one motion. He lowers him onto his chest, placing one leg over his shoulder and the other under his arm as he touches her clit, watching her clench around air.

“Oh, you been waiting for me to taste you huh?” he says, letting out a deep, dark chuckle.

He began sucking her clit as he inserts his index and middle fingers inside her, rubbing around the softness. Valerie moans, wrapping her hand around his head.

“Hey.” as he slaps her thigh, making her wince. “Eyes on me while I’m down here. You know the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah.” is what she said before pushing his face back into her pussy, making eye contact.

Stack begins sucking hard as his fingers plunge in and out of her at a fast pace, making her let out a few *fucks and louder moans as she fondles her breast with her free hand.

The sounds of her essence gushing, her hard panting, his low groaning, and the bed creaking fills the bedroom as she feels herself getting closer and closer to release.

“Stack, you’re about to make me lose it!” she utters, tears forming in her eyes.

He removes his mouth, watching her tremble as he curves his fingers, feeling her grip getting tighter around them.

“That’s it.” as he rubs his thumb around her clit. “Let it all out. Don’t hold back from me, baby.” he whispers.

On cue, she releases, squirting out her essence and body spazzing as Stack holds his tongue out, feeling some of it hit it. Her breathing is out of control as the room spins around her blurry vision, feeling her high coming down.

Stack laps up some of her essence around her before standing up, kissing her leg in the process. He pulls down his underwear, where his hard, throbbing dick sprangs free, kicking them to the side.

Just as he was about to insert himself, she sits up, grabbing his dick and stroking it, watching him wince.

“Valerie, you don’t have to do this.” he said, trying to remove her hand.

“You say that every time we fuck, but doesn’t stop me.” she replied, slapping his hand away.

He holds his hands up as he watches her, leave a trail of her spit across his shaft, rubbing it around before taking him into her mouth, hearing him groan.

“Maybe I should stop saying that.” he mumbled, looking down at her as she begins bobbing her head.

Her saliva begins coating his shaft, making her up her pace as his tip touches the back of her throat, her almost gagging. She wraps her hands around the rest that can’t fit in her mouth and begins stroking it.

Stack holds her hair up, fondling his nipple as she swirls her tongue around his tip, keeping her eyes on him.

”You like when you’re sucking me off, don’t you?” he asks, his breathing coming out hard.

Valerie lets out a moan as she speeds up, filling her mess, dripping onto her chest as Stack moans, feeling himself getting close.

“I know you want my seed down your throat.” he utters in an aggressive tone.

Suddenly, he removes her from his dick, watching her pant hard as he looks at how dazed out she is. He taps a tip on her tongue, rubbing it over her lips.

“But I don’t wanna wait all night to fuck you.” he says, stepping back.

Valerie laughs before turning on her stomach, putting her ass in the air with her feet hanging off the bed.

“Come get it then, Eli.” she said, shaking her ass a bit.

Stack smirks as he walks up and gets on the bed, lowering himself into a crotch. He slaps her ass real hard, hearing her squeal before inserting himself into her pussy, both letting out moans.

“My God, you feel so good stretching me out like this.” she utters, feeling him moving around a bit.

He kisses her back as he wraps his hand around the front of her neck, brings her up to his chest. He begins fucking her, biting her shoulder.

“Fuck…” she moans, wrapping her hand around his arms.

His balls bouncing off her lips from his strokes, creating a sensation she never felt before when they made love. He speeds up his pace, watching her body move hard from him slamming his hips into her, filling her essence dripping on him.

“Mm, you like when I fuck you like this?” he whispers into her ear, hearing her whimper.

“Yes. Only you can do me like this!” she yelps, feeling him brush over a sweet spot.

“Good! No other motherfucker will ever touch what belongs to me.” as he goes at a rapid pace, hearing her scream.

Valerie falls forward, feeling herself go limp but stays in position as Stack wraps his hands around her waist, keeping himself up.

“Oh baby…..why are you doing me like this?” she moans, throwing herself back to match his pace.

“Because this is not a regular session between me and you.” as he goes deeper. “This is me showing you how much I deeply care about you.” he admits, removing his hands.

Valerie smiles, in awe of him while he is breaking her pussy like she owns him something, becoming enchanted by his spell.

“I’m getting close.. getting close!” she yelps, him continuously hitting her sweet spot a few times.

Stack gives her one final stroke before she cums again, watching her essence coat his dick her body pushing it all out as she moans, the pleasure consuming her. He pulls out, gently taps her pussy before laying on his back, adjusting a pillow under his head.

”Ride me, baby.” he says, stroking his dick.

She catches her breath for a few minutes before crawling to him, hovering over his body. She lowers herself onto him, feels him stretching her out once again, making her wince.

“You okay? We can do something else if it feels uncomfortable.” he said, lifting himself up but she stops him.

“No, no.” as she shakes her head. “You feel good, Stack. Just catching my breath.”

He nods as she begins moving her hips, creating a rhythm with him as she slowly wrapped her hands around his neck.

“Like that.” she mumbles, placing one of his hands on one of her breasts before returning it back to his neck.

He moans, squeezing her breast gently as she bounces up and down on his dick, slamming herself into him each time, clenching him.

“Fuck.” he whispers, feeling her squeeze his neck hard as she slaps his face, catching him off guard.

“What the hell, Valerie?!” he yelps, the sting brewing on his face as she laughs.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” she replied, slapping him once more.

He groans, trying to hide how much he actually did enjoy that. He slaps her ass, feeling her quickening up her pace as she moans. She can feel him twitching inside, making her smirk.

“Fuck me, Elias.” as she slaps him once more “You know you wanna cum.” she says, pulling him up to his chest.

He wraps his arms around her waist and slightly lifts her up as he begins pounding underneath her, both moaning loud enough in the neighbors to hear.

“Alright. That’s an offer I can take up.” he utters, slamming continuously over and over as he was slowly losing feeling in his lower half.

These two were both going all out the show how much one cares about the other while making sure their needs are also being met.

Valerie makes out with Stack, his hip, slowing down as another release went up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Cum in me, please.” she utters, feeling herself tightening.

“You sure?” he asks, moving her hips in a circular motion.

“I wanna feel all of you.” she admits, about to pass out.

Stack nods with a greedy smile before giving her a few more strokes until they both release at the same time, him letting out expletives and her letting out moans for the last time. His dick twitches inside her as he pumps out all of his seed while she squirts all over him.

The lovers lay in each other’s arms, both catching their breaths as the moonlight shines on them, the cool air hitting their skin.

“…promise me you won’t forget me.” she says in a sleepy tone.

Stack looks up, rubbing his chin over her chest as he kisses her.

“I promise I’ll never forget you. Ever.”

Valerie smiled, give him another kiss before falling asleep in his embrace.

Valerie stares in a daze, the memory on a loop as Stack snaps his fingers, snapping her out of her faze.

“Jesus.” she whispers, looking away in embarrassment.

“You okay?” he asks, amusement in his tone.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Just wondering. Cause you’re drooling.”

Valerie touches her face, feeling wetness around her mouth. She grabs a napkin and wipes her mouth, hearing him laugh.

“But. You didn’t forget that night either.” he added, eyeing her.

”Who wouldn’t? That was the last positive memory I have of us before you left me.” she said, looking down.

I knew she was gonna bring that up, he said.

“…I fucked up, didn’t I?” he asked.

“You did.” as she shook her head.

She can feel tears begin to form in her chest, beginning to burn as she looks up, not wanting to look at him.

“I understand. Nobody really gets over their first love. But I wished you.…” as her voice trails off.

Her breathing becomes pitchy as images of her seeing Stack kiss Mary in a dark alleyway, their argument that lead to their breakup, and her a few moments before jumping into the Chicago River plays in her mind.

“Forget it.” she said as she got up, quickly wiping that tear as she fixed her shawl.

“Valerie, wait.” he says as he tries to grab her, but she steps back.

“Nice seeing you again.” she utters as she begins to walk.

She sees him getting up to follow her, but she stops at the entrance.

You have to tell him about that Klan member, she utters, the memory of him revealing the killing field plan playing.

“I have to tell you something so that you and Smoke are aware.” as she turns around to face him.

Stack looks at her, a glaring expression on his face.

“What is it?”

“That man who sold you this place? What’s his name?” she asks, seeing his face relax.

“Hogwood.” as he sighs. “Why?”

“Hogwood. He’s the local Kl—“ is all she could get out before loud stomping cuts her off.

Mary, now heated, walks into the room, shoving Stack back.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you all night, but Sammie and Pearline were stalling me.” she utters in irritation.

Stack, shocked that she shoved him, looks at her before looking at Valerie, causing her to turn around and be shocked at her standing there.

“Valerie?!” she yells. “You were with her?!”

Stack shushes her and pulls her back as Valerie laughs, backing out through the entrance as Mary becomes louder with yelling at him.

“I’m gonna leave you two to talk. Nice to see you again, Elias.” said Valerie as she walks away

Mary pops her head out, with Stack struggling to hold her back.

“I thought you was dead?! But, here you are, talking to my man?!” she yells, but the loud music shuns her, no one paying attention as Stack pulls her back into the room.

Valerie shakes her head, walking up to Lucinda as she takes out money from her top.

“A refill on the Irish beer, please.” as she puts a few coins on the table.

Lucinda nods as she hands her one, taking the coins.

“By the way. I was actually here for Stack. Sorry if I made it seem like it was for Smoke.” she said, taking the drink.

Before Lucinda could say anything, Valerie walks off, heading to where Pearline and Sammie were sitting as they watched Slim play.

“Missed anything important?” she said, both looking at her instantly.

“Almost. Sammie about to perform.” said Pearline, rubbing his shoulder.

“Well, I made it just in time.” she said, winking at Sammie.

“What was you and Stack discussing?” he asked, tuning his guitar.

“Old business from when I was still in Chicago that might get me on trial if I go into detail.” she said as she stands next to Pearline, sipping her drink.

All three laugh until Sammie and Pearline stopped, fear growing upon their face. Valerie looks at them confused until she hears loud footsteps behind her, making her lower her drink.

“Well I‘ll be damned.” said a familiar, deeper thick Southern accent voice.

She sees smoke fumes blow out from her left, which tells her who it is standing behind her.

“Nice to see you again, Smoke.” she says as she turns around, see him standing there.

Smoke whistles, taking in her look before hugging her, with her doing the same back.

“Thought Stack was lying when he said you were here! I thought he was lying because we were at your f…” he says, trailing off with his last word.

He sees Sammie and Pearline sitting behind her as she looks at him, waiting for him to say the next part.

I don’t think I should bring up the funeral in front of them, he utters.

Thank god.

“Fair!” he yelps. “The Chicago City Fair! Val here used to throw good fairs to help out the people who couldn’t go to the upstate ones. Always seemed like a hero to everyone up there.” he added, smiling at her.

“That sounds amazing.” said Sammie, Pearline nodding.

“Maybe Clarksdale can get that.” she said.

“Love to do that! Just point me to y’all council and we can set it off….non-gangster style.” said Valerie, making everyone laugh.

“Damn….when did your eyes turn green?” asked Smoke, looking at them.

“Caught a medical condition out in Memphis. Thought he was lying when he said your eyes might turn a different shade if it gets worse, but here I am with hazel green eyes now.” she replied.

“Well. I’m glad you’re here at our Club Juke. Hope you enjoy Sammie’s performance.” he said, squeezing her hand.

“Will do.”

Smoke nods at Pearline and Sammie before walking to Annie, with Valerie sighing in relief.

Thank god Smoke the one with the brains.

The audience erupts into cheers once more Slim stands up, taking a bow.

“Thank y’all, thank y’all!” he says, smiling gleefully.

“Now for this next performance, I’m bringing on a young cat that’s from around here.” he added, smiling big.

“He’s one of the finest blues guitar players around here and has a little song for us to hear. So give a big old welcome to the stage: Sammie Moore!” he exclaims, ushering Sammie to come up.

The crowd erupts into cheers as Sammie get up and walk to the stage.

“Let’s go get a better view.” said Pearline as she grabs Valerie’s hand and pull her to walk with her.

Valerie laughs as she’s pulled through the crowd, with the women taking a position next to a pole, having a clear view of Sammie.

“Hello. I’m Sammie Moore. Also known as Preacher Boy since my daddy is a preacher. I’m a sharecropper on a little plantation around here. So I wrote this little song for him and hope y’all like it.” Sammie said as he begins playing the guitar.

He walks down the stairs, greeting some people as he begins to sing.

Something I been wanting to tell you

For a long time

It might hurt you, as he looks at Pearline and Valerie.

Hope you don't lose your mind

Well, I was just a boy, as some people begin stomping their feet.

Bout eight years old

You threw me a Bible

On that Mississippi road

“Mm.” said Valerie, nodding her head to the song.

See, I love ya, Papa

You did all you could do

They say the truth hurts

So I lie to you, as he moves the guitar around.

Yes, I lied to you

I love the blues, as he smiles.

Valerie looks back, sees Stack watching the performance, with Mary next to him a few feet away. She turns forward, taking a big sip as Sammie sings his next part.

Mm-mm

Suddenly, the room because a little brighter as Valerie watches everyone, including Pearline, began to dance.

Oh, mm-mm, as Slim joins him on the piano, playing a tune to accompany it as the band follows.

Hey

Somebody take me, as he drags out each note, surprising both women.

In your arms tonight

Well alright

“Alright.” said Pearline, making Valerie smile.

Somebody take me

In your arms tonight

Yeah, yeah, as Pearline takes the drink out of Valerie’s hand and drags her to the center of the floor.

“Pearline, I don’t dance, so I think Ima go—“ is what Valerie could get out before Pearline cuts her off.

“Follow me. And don’t do it too hard.” she said, kissing her cheek.

Valerie blushes, following each move Pearline does as Sammie continues singing the song.

Somebody take me in your arms tonight

As he begins his next part, the room darkens and becomes a blurry vision to Valerie, which confuses her as it looks oblivious to everyone around her except Sammie.

What is going on? Why does it feel like I’m in someone else’s vision?

As Valerie turns her head, she sees an African dancer run past them as two African music players perform their music around Sammie. She’s in awe, seeing how beautiful they look playing their music next to him.

Mm-mm, as Sammie stands next to her, passionately singing his song.

A man dressed in glam plays an electric guitar on her other side, startling her. She notices he ain’t wearing the same clothes that they are currently wearing, confusing her even more.

“…..is this Sam’s mind I’m in?” she asked, but no one seems to hear her.

Somebody take me in your arms tonight, as a gospel choir appears on stage while the electric guitar gets louder.

Alright, as he walks around, getting even more passionate with his playing.

Pearline dances away as Valerie stands there, trying to figure out how she’s the only one seeing this, very impressed.

The guitar player walks through her, which shocks her. She runs up to the choir, and swings her across them. Her arm goes through them as well, making her step back.

These are spirits, she mumbles. These are his spirits that he has woken up. Meaning it’s the past, the current, and the future in this room right now.

Somebody take me in your—Hey!

A hip-hop beat drops, with Sammie’s vocals mixing in with it.

Valerie turns around, seeing a man breakdancing around where Sammy is walking. Looking up, she sees a man behind a DJ booth, spinning the song.

She smiles, amazed at what’s she seeing and how the future is gonna change a lot for their people.

Until a sharp pain shoots through her chest, causing her to fall to the ground, grabbing it. It gets worse, causing her to whine a bit.

“Help!” she yells, but no one seems to hear her.

As she looks up, she sees everyone dancing, missing her somehow. A few more spirits, including two Xiqu dancers, run next to her, jumping and dancing around room.

Valarie lays there, paralyzed to the floor as the roof catches on fire, with the parts falling onto her. She tries to move, but fails miserably.

“Why can’t no one see that the roof is on fire?!” she yells louder.

But once again, no one hears her.

A burning wood breaks off and is about to hit her, make her close her eyes.

However, nothing happens.

When she wakes up, the building is completely gone, but everyone is still dancing as Sammie, Slim, and the band are still playing. But there’s no sound.

Valerie gets up, looking around the burned area as she sees Pearline dancing with Annie, Lucinda, and Smoke as Stack and Mary dance with each other.

As she looks to her left side, she sees three white people standing so far away, each has glowing eyes. The middle one, a middle aged man focuses directly on Sammie, smiles as his eyes are red and his fangs are out.

Remmick. Oh no.

Just she was about to say something, she is knocked out by a shadow, causing her to fall to the ground.

When she wakes up, she’s leaned up against the pole. Everything is back to normal as the crowd is cheering, amazed at the performance Sammie gave, with Pearline clapping the hardest.

“Wow, he did amazing.” said Pearline, looking at her.

“What….what happened?” asked Valerie, dryness in her tone.

“Damn, girl. All that dancing you were doing took you out.” she said, laughing a bit.

“What? You didn’t say what I saw?” Valerie asked, a confused expression on her face.

“We all did. Sammie hitting notes, everyone dancing and vibing. But you were clearly having a good time.” Pearline replied, kissing her.

Valerie is caught off guard and breaks the kiss, very bewildered. She also realizes she can’t hear her own or anyone else’s thoughts anymore, which is not a good sign.

“…okay, what is going on?” she asks in a frustrated tone.

Valerie looks at her, laughing to herself before wiping her face.

“I think I’m just tripping. I got a little too lost in the dance. I’m fine, I promise.” she replied, grabbing Pearline’s hand and kissing it.

Pearline relaxes, smiling a bit as Sammie comes over.

“He comes our star.” she says, before facing him.

Valerie smiles before looking out of the window, feeling something bad is about to happen. She brushes it off, focusing her attention back on Sammie and Pearline.

Far, far away, in the foggy night, stands Remmick. Along with his two members, they stand on the dirt road, listening to the loud music. He smiles brightly, as his eyes are glowing red and his fangs are out.

“That’s our boy.” he says. “Let’s go get him.”

The other two smile as they begin to walk towards the location, with Remmick’s evil laugh filling in the darkness of the sound.

A/N II: Whew. This was a long one, but it was definitely worth it! Hope you enjoyed it and as always, thank you for reading this! If you want to join the tag list, let me know.

🏷️ : @iloveekeiarah @childishgambinaax @ziayamikaelson @ssamm1984

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