#stack and smoke

[writerwhowrit3s]

Something that gets me is the fact that stack and smoke are twins which means when stack was killing Annie she was basically looking into the same face of the man she loves.

[ariesthetouchdeprivedgirl]

i’d love to be right there in the middle 😊.

[anoldblackmansadvice]

I see a lot of people of European descent don’t like the depiction of European descent in Sinners.

You missed the entire point.

Remmick the vampire wasn’t racist nor was he meant to be seen as racist. He was a man who saw how the world treats all men and he even in vampirism wanted that to change. His line concerning being a native of Ireland but still treated as less than when he was forced to adopt Christianity fully explained that.

Now if you were angry because Smoke killed the Klan members then you maybe a white supremacy supporter.

[strangerexee]

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ: ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ɢɪᴀɴᴛꜱ | ᴇʟɪᴊᴀʜ "ꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ" ᴍᴏᴏʀᴇ

𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽!𝙶𝙰𝙽𝙶!𝙰𝚄

pairings: Elijah "smoke" Moore x black!fem!reader

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝��𝚛𝚢: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝 | 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚐/𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 | 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎/𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 ��𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 | 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚜 | 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 (𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜), 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 | 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝-𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚢 | 𝚃𝚆𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙵𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽 | 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7 (ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ…)

[willyoubemycherryy]

The fix it au!

Summary: Everyone survives UNTURNED besides Mary because this is for the _, strictly for the _. Takes place in the juke joint tho and Bo is still my man- argue with the wall.

Contains: Arguing, cursing, dancing, background stuff, everyone has a southern accent, gambling mentions, some fighting, but still cute sweet and nice, some anxiety and tension, the twins talk it out, flirting, Smoke x Annie, established relationships, one innuendo, this is for the _, strictly for the _

“Will you shut the fuck up?? Damn!”

“Boy, who the hell-!”

It was hot, drunkheads abound, and worse- there was still 2 hours to go until sunrise and you were tired, sighing from where you were sat on Bo’s lap, watching him deal cards with nimble hands.

“How don’t you know the steps? You black ain’t you??”

“Man, watch out!”

It’d been a long night for everyone.

It didn’t take long to figure out what the pale trio from earlier was really after, especially after Mary got back in and tried to off Stack. Annie was the first to ask the important questions while Smoke checked him over.

“She tried to bite me-“, and from that plus them asking earlier if they could be invited in, the answer came. Vampires.

The first order of business was to keep everyone inside. There was the usual fair share of complaining but no real protests once the situation was made clear: this was real and happening- leaving meant death. Period. Everyone had lives and families to get back to; even the ones that didn’t still had things they wanted to do so living was essential. Next, every window and door was locked shut.

“Well what if I gotta piss?” Cornbread whined out. A couple people shouted in agreement with him but Smoke wasn’t playing.

“Then yo ass can piss right from behind that door.” And the sound of his gun cocking made that end of discussion. Lastly, everyone had to take at least one bite of garlic to make sure no one got bit in all the fuss of the initial panic. Pearline complained, Sammie got knocked in the mouth, Stack almost caught it too because Smoke ain’t have to hit the boy like that and Delta Slim almost died since raw garlic and liquor don’t mix. Shaking your head, his old ass know damn well.

Y’all did what you could to help Stack grieve losing Mary- now you’re not saying she deserved it but god’s timing is always right. Slowly but surely, once the tension of the situation set in a bit, everyone got more comfortable. It’s just staying until the sun comes up. Delta got back on the keys, filling the room with a lazy but heavy tune, drinks got to being served again but since Sammy was temporarily banned from singing for the night, he and Pearline took to the floor with the other couples. Meanwhile the rest were either playing cards, dice, drinking or arguing.

“Mmhm! That’s why he ain’t here tonight!”

“Ya bullshittin’!”

“I ain’t! Ask anyone! Smoke shot em clear in the ass! Got the limp and erry’ thang!” The man vividly recounts what he saw earlier that day to the other slack jawed men at the table when Smoke came to get some stuff for the juke in order. It shouldn’t have been funny but you giggle anyways, leaning in to whisper in Bo’s ear over the music.

“S’that true?” He nods, grinning. You shake your head lightly at that as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“How you feelin’, baby?” You hum, laying your head on his shoulder as you answer back.

“Sleepy. I wanna go home. Want you back to myself..”.

Bo’s eyes widen. Out of all the things, you just wanting to go home so y’all could be alone was what was bothering you? A fond smile dimples his cheeks as he presses another kiss to the top of your head, holding you closer to him. Voice dipping low as he gets close to your ear,

“I want you all to myself too…in bed…where I could-”, by the end, you’re flushing.

Meanwhile Smoke and Stack are off arguing in the corner office.

“See? I told you to let me handle it!” Smoke yells in his brothers face, breathing heavily in anger.

“She wasn’t yo’ business to handle-“,

“Which is exactly why I should’ve! You ain’t never been able to watch yo own back and damnnit I told you it’ll catch up and look what!”

Stack didn’t have anything to say to that because it was true. Smoke was always warning him about chasing waterfalls and when to built dams.

“You could’ve died! I woulda lost you! N’ over what? A woman you ain’t got no business bein’ wit anyways?? And I’m is ‘posed to be calm bout that?!” Unshed tears make his eyes shine as he yells and yells, until Stack understands. Cutting him off as he pulls him into a hug, clapping a hand firmly on his back. He gets it. Smoke was scared. Terrified even- of losing someone else.

Whenever he pictured any aspect of his life- past, present, or future; it always involved his brother. Like a habit. When Stack looked in the mirror, he saw Smoke. When Smoke looked in the mirror, he saw Stack. Two halves of the same whole. For a brief moment, he tries to picture how Smoke would live- truly live- without him and finds himself holding back tears at the grim image.

“I’m sorry I ain’t listen to you.”

Smoke is quiet but brings his hand over his back, patting gently.

“Should be. Don’t do no shit like that again.”

Huffing out a laugh, Stack agrees as they separate. Smoke looks up, narrowing his eyes when he sees Cornbread gambling at one of the tables, drink in hand and yells,

“Fool! Didn’t I tell yo big ass to stay by the door!”

Cornbread rolls again and the table bursts into cheers as he laughs before answering,

“Yea- but the lovebirds got that covered so I figured I take some time off.” Smoke looks around confused. Lovebirds? He looks around the floor, first spotting his cousin with his arms around Pearline then his glare softens as it lands on Annie, beautifully lit where she stood behind the bar. Soft voice and full curves have him gravitating towards her when Stack smacks him on his arm- barking out a laugh as he jerks his chin toward the closed door, smiling.

“I think thems the lovebirds in question.”

There, Bo sits with you in his lap. Thighs around his waist, foreheads pressed together, hands on shoulders as you smile, laugh and whisper about whatever. Sharing a drink and Smoke rolls his eyes as Stack coos.

“Aww~ Ain’t that just sweet?” Smoke is unamused.

“If they call that watchin’ the door then just call me boo boo the fool wit’ a side of ice because-“, Stack laughs again, hitting him on the arm as he hands him a cigarette.

“Ah ah, don’t be like that. Lighten up. S’ a hell of a night for everyone. ‘Nd before it’s over, you needa ease on a lil’”, Stack tilts his head as he rolls his shoulders. Coaxing Smoke to do the same as he takes a deep breath, shoulders dropping and Stack continues,

“And what better way to wind down than dancin’ with yo lady”, jerking his head towards Annie and Smoke follows with his eyes. Zoning out as he takes her in before he remembers-

“Then who gon’ handle the drinks?” Stack sucks his teeth, pushing him toward the bar until he’s face to face with the pain in his heart and balm of his soul and Stack shoots her off too.

“I got it covered. Y’all gon on.”

Annie shares an amused look between the two before offering Smoke her hand and he doesn’t hesitate to take it, leading her to the floor. Delta whistles, laughing as he plays up a tune that spells trouble.

It’s been one hell of a night for sure. But since the club survived this..

It’ll survive anything.

[tallulahneale]

Dear Diary

Summary: Smoke and Stack read Tallie's diary to find out she's been crushing on Stack more than him.

A/N: This was the dynamic I picked up on; Smoke is mean-ish and headstrong while Stack is playful and easy going. 

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Sexual content

Part 2

Looking through her online calendar, Tallie proceeds to make a note of the catering orders for the week ahead.

“Journal time!” She beams, reaching to the shelf for the notebook that keeps her thoughts, experiences and feelings a secret. But to no avail. She searched everywhere for it!

“For a pink fluffy hardcover, it should not be that hard to spot.” She mutters pacing around her room.

Meanwhile…

Smoke is running through the Club Juke ledger, while Stack creates the monthly ad for their social media pages.

“Since when do you keep a notebook?” Smoke asks his twin, pointing at the pink feathered jotter in the midst of their bookstand.

“Do I look like I even like writing?” he replies with a guffaws, lounging on velvet wood settee. With mild curiosity, Smoke wedges the jotter from it's place. The feathers on the spine tickle him as he glides a finger down the hardcover, opening the unknown jotter.

‘Dear diary, Today was a blast at Club Juke! They loved the food and it was great meeting the rest of the team-

“Cute.” a twitch forming at the corner of his lips, remembering the look of joy in Tallie’s eyes. He keeps reading with intrigue.

St and Sm kept me entertained again while doing their meal prep, and boyyyy was I grateful for the distraction. Sm was intimidating (as per usual) so it didn't bother me when he left. St stayed with me tho❤️  I love like when St's around. The playful glint of his eyes and wide stance when he lurks in the hall makes my thigh clench. and his eyes. his muthafreakin eyes! They just draw me in. I’d loveee to see 'em eyes roll back when/if I ride his fac-’

“Woah, that’s enough” Smoke mutters to himself

“You’ll never believe what’s been written on these pages” He shares, passing the jotter over to Stack with the leather tassel bookmark wedged open on the page in question.

Stack collects the jotter with a suspicious glance, taking in the feminine attributes of the dainty pages. He flips it closed to check for a name but there is none, he returns to the indicated page. As he reads, his eyebrows raise, he swallows spit causing his adam apple to bobble, before smirking.

“I think Tallie should swing by… we do need a meal prep soon” He grins, Smoke nods and drafts a note to send.

Back at Tallie’s…

A shiver shocks her bones, a superstition that a conversation is being had on her behalf. The diary is yet to be found and that makes her worry even more. In the wrong hands, it could spoil her good girl reputation. A ding is heard from the laptop resting on her desk; an email notification.

Meal prep requests from Smoke&Stack Twins. (Accept/Decline)

She smiles with relief while accepting the order, it’s always breeze cooking for them. Tallie shoots a quick reply to confirm the time and date.

———

With no luck, her diary remains lost and the appointment with the twins was here. She wanted to write a quick piece before seeing them, it would help keep her feelings at bay.

“I’ll be fine” She assures herself greeting the staff at the concierge and walking up to their floor. Tallie knocks on the door in a cheerfully way while waiting for someone to let her in.

Silence.

“They know I’m comin', right?” She says waiting patiently.

With another knock, a buzz of the bell and no response she lets herself in. The hallway is eerily quiet so she turns on the lights that lead to the kitchen. All the ingredients are already laid out on the prep corner of the kitchen counter. Butter, eggs, sugar, flour, vanilla extract, cinnamon, pecans; seems like the twins are craving pastries this week. Tallie hears a baritone mumble and quickly glances around the open plan room. Lo and behold Smoke has been lounging on the couch, the whole damn time. 

“Didn’t you hear the bell?!” She snaps at Smoke, he is the only one present. Her tone is sharp, yes, but not writing in the diary has left her on edge. Especially today... the hidden thoughts were running wild.

Choosing the perfect time to emerge, Stack walks in through the hallway in a regal terry cotton robe. She peers up at his face and eyes him to his feet. His hair is damp with the robe hung loosely around his torso. The belt not fully tied. She glances back up, his eyes already catching her lustful stare. Flustered, she looks down and then back to Smoke, who remains on the couch.

“Is she taking that tone with you or me?” Smoke asks turning to his twin with a mischievous smirk, to which Stack smirks back with a shrug.

“I don’t need to be here.” She whisper but not quietly enough. 

“Yeah but you want to be here… don’t you?” The mischief behind his smirk is now exposed as he point to the item in Smoke’s hand. Lifting up his left hand with a sway, you see the features of a very familiar notebook.

“That’s my diary!” She squirms. His back is faced away from her but she knew he is smirking like a cat that caught a canary. The flight or fight response has kicked in. Just as Tallie decides to make an attempt to run and snatch it, Stack strolls over to the kitchen counter shaking his head in warning. She freezes, glancing through her peripheral at Smoke still with her diary held high, the tassel moves…mocking her in an Irish jig. Stack steps closer to hover behind her, reading her bright eyes and steady breaths. The rope frees from its hold and leaves him open, chest bare and clad in fitting undergarments.

She gasps as he turns her flushed against the counter, facing the torment of her lust. His hands rest on the countertop, caging Tallie in. 

“Secret’s out brown sugar” He growls into her ear.

Smoke finally turns to face them, striding to the empty counter stool. He positions himself directly opposite Tallie and Stack, still smirking and flipping through the pages. She attempts to nab it back but is left bent at the waist and pressed on the surface. Stack remains behind her, tracing delicate touches across the small of her back. Keeping his hips still but firm enough for her to feel the warmth of his nether regions.

“Give it back!” She barks, suddenly fuelled by desire and fear.

“You need to watch that tone Tallie” Stack warns from behind her, removing his hand from her back and returning it to the countertop. She whimpers at the loss of his warm and rich touch.

“I knew you didn’t see me like how we both see you” Smoke starts “You sure do express yourself more on a page than in person.”

She response with a glare, keeping a sharp gaze on him and her silly little diary. ‘Don’t falter, don’t falter, don’t falter’ she thinks to herself, but Stack's gentle caress on her arm cause a shiver to crawl up her spine and lashes to flutter in want.

“I don’t know… what your talking abo-”

Stack smirks at her denial as he tugs Tallie upright, fitting into the curve of her back as he latches onto her neck. A loud mewl escapes her lips as he savagely nibbles, licks and sucks at the pulsing jugular.

“St-tack” she stutter intwining their fingers, pulling his hand to her bountiful chest. 

“Whose eyes do you want to see roll back?” Smoke demands, gloating at her demise. “Seems like it’s yours, huh?”

“W-whaa-?” Another moan slips out as Stack attacks her viciously. She always had a feeling that he had a way, with that thick tongue of his. From watching him wrap his joints to it poking out when he counts a stack of bills. Bring her back to the earthy plane, he eases off her neck moving to nibble at curve of her lobe.

“It is mine?” Stack asks, pressing the stiffening bulge of his thickness against the cleft of her rounded plump cheeks. All this while Smoke remains vigilant, stoic and unbothered.

“I-i want… w-want” she stutters, eyes flickering like a light in a horror movie, unable to handle the balance of Smoke’s smouldering gaze and Stack’s desire-filled touch. 

“Talk to us Tallie” Smoke mocks her, still firm in his demeanour.

“I want my diary back!” She cries out in longing and thirst. Being touched but not touched enough left her in a limbo. It felt like punishment. The teasing, the taunting, the edging  just because of her silly little diary. These men are a force to worship; more than just their aura, more than just their fierce gaze, everything.

“Still got tha’ tone on her Stack” Smoke says with a shrug of his hands and shoulders “You got work to do.”

He stands up and pushes the diary open on the last entry, the title ridicules her ‘Stack&Smoke twins’. Stack moves away from her space, she whines, eyes begging him not to let go.

“Relax” Smoke whispers smugly.

Stack crouches down, making his way under the flimsy fabric of her summer dress. Comfortably sat on the pristine marble flooring. With the back of his head resting against the cupboard doors, he looks up at her. The eyes that draw her in, the eyes that burn with so much compassion and power.

She looks down in acknowledgement, trapping his head between her warm supple thighs like a cushion. Smoke whistles. Her attention returns back to him as he winks. 

“I’d love to give you more, but that diary’s in your hands now.” He states, stroking the tent formed by his covered length. Deviously taking in her expression.

Her breath hitches at the gentle swat across her southern breed cheeks.

“And so it begins” She hears Stack mumble beneath her. 

He grips the thighs, holding her in place. The fabric of her panties is transparent, the wetness creating a friction. With the tip of his nose sliding against her covered lips.

His tongue follows the out line of her puffy lips through the fabric. tracing each curve up to her pulsing swollen clit and down to the entrance of her waterfall. He glides along, sucking at the fabric, wanting to taste it all.

“Pll-eease Sttackk” She begs

There’s a tut in the background. Smoke is still root on the chair, captivated at her lust.

“Ask properly” He advises, zoned in on her nipple that tries to escape the fitted blouse.

Stack nips at her inner thigh, swatting her cheeks twice in admonishment. She corrects her fault immediately, knowing what needs to be said.

“P-pl-lease Smo-ke, please Stackkk” She purrs.

With a nod, he pulls her panties to the side and slips in like a thief in the night. Tallie grinds on his thick warm wet tongue, his nose tapping at the clit. Her eyes tear-up and her fingers clenching into a fist, she watches as Smoke beckons her to lean forward. He pulls her bottom lip open, invading her mouth with his thumb. At the same time, Stack swats her again and grips the heated flesh of her hips pulling her onto his gushy slick face. Not hovering, he wants her whole weight.

The fiery gaze from Smoke was intense, the simultaneous pressure from Stack causes her to hump his lips with passion. Tallie sucks hard on his thumb, saliva wetting his finger drooling down into his palm. He snatches his thumb back while maintain the leering look of lust she held in her soul. He moves slowly, sinking his hand beneath his slacks and toys with the tip of his throbbing head, the wetness of her mouth on his thumb giving him enough friction. She mewls in delight as his paces quickens.

Stack isn’t letting up either, her slit is plunged with his fingers and her sensitive nub caressed by his tongue not yet giving her what she wanted. What she truly needed. He keeps a steady pace dancing around her clit as the wetness pools on his tongue like warm honey, down his goatee and across his freshly shaven cheeks. Tallie cries, letting out a whiny plea, asking for nothing but to cum. Her head is spinning, moaning feverishly as he eyes flutter from the cool breeze against her nipples.

"She's close" Smoke mutters, grinding into his palm as he sucks in his bottom lip.

Swats her again in warning, Stack reaches the sweet spot and thrashes his tongue. Desperate for her desire, her juice, her warm honey. Tallie let's go with a screech. She spasms on his tongue riding until her knees buckle, her eyes are back on Smoke wanting to see him finish with her. But he keeps his length hidden from her view, stroking it enough to release some tension.

Tallie can feel it. Stack can feel it. Smoke can feel it. It was in the air, the moment, she felt the gravity in the room suddenly drop, then a burst of warmth as she floods Stack with the essence of her womanhood for the second time. The twins groans in admiration. Smoke reluctantly frees his length, still tight and hard. Stack just as burdened but makes no move to relieve his discomfort.

It was all about her, these twins were selfless to the core. Smoke walks away snatching the diary from where it lay. Abandoned in the midst of their activities.

“You off all people should kno’ ” Stack starts as he stands up, placing a kiss along her chin and down her throat “Closed mouth don’t get fed.”

Tallie still in shock at the energy of the twins, blurts the first though that comes to mind.

“Do I still have to bake?”

“Do you want a bun in your oven?” The twins reply simultaneously. 

She watches as they glance over their shoulder to peer at her, mischief written all over their faces.

PART 2

A/N: Watch the movie if you haven’t already!!!! (p.s did y'all notice the play on words with her waiting to be 'let in'?)

[notapradagurl7]

Good Ol’ Lovin’.

Black Fem! Plus Size Reader x Elijah “Smoke” Moore.

Summary: Besides working early mornings and late nights in your mother’s store with your sister, Asia. You decided to enjoy your day off with Smoke.

A/N: I’ve finally write about Sinners, and finally saw the movie! It's amazing, Hope you enjoy. 😌 don’t forget to reblog, comment and like to support, remember don’t be afraid to send in a request they’re always open.

Warnings: sensual dancing, jealousy, life in 1932, fluff, kissing, mention of violence, a pinch mention of racism, spanking, mention of hoodoo, dirty talk, filth, fingering, mention of vampires, use of the n-word, cursing, use of AAVE, doesn't follow the flim’s timeline, possessive!Smoke, consensual intimacy.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @dabratzchronicles

@becauseimswagman1

@araybiaaa @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @blkgirlsneedlove2 @ranikyani

@uniqueoutlierblog @mama-2001

@fakxmbj @kaylalb @theereinawrites @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @kumkaniudaku @luckydaye777 @that-one-anxious-mango @rose-bliss @kindofaintrovert

—————-

In the deep South, where the air is rich with the earthy scent of damp soil and the distant sound of tractors rumbling over vast fields fills the space, a wave of life and labor unfolded before you.

Your gaze was drawn irresistibly to the twins, moving in perfect synchrony as they walked side by side, each lifting heavy wooden boxes with their bare hands.

Their muscles glistened with sweat, rippling beneath their sun-kissed brown skin, while subtle grunts escaped their lips, echoing the effort of their work.

A small church painted in snow-white was nestled in the land, you could hear the choir singing psalms of worship.

There wasn't a time when the pastor always called those to come to join hands in prayer and asked those to be saved, forming a circle under the ancient oak tree that shaded half the gathering.

You only focused on your work in your mom’s store, and her greenhouse, it kept the house afloat, and bills paid, yet worry settled in her that she was going to work herself into the ground.

She whispered prayers on quiet nights, confessing fears of someday not being able to lift her hands or stand for hours on end to God. She brought you and your sister to work alongside her.

Sunlight spewed through the clean windows, and casted warm golden rays that hovered across the wooden floors. Biting your lip, distraction and admiration swelling within you, as you slowly reached into the box, pulling out a book.

The simple task of organizing your mother’s store became an afterthought, your mind drifting away from the mundane and onto the twin brothers who worked their toward their farm.

The identical twins Smoke and Stack caught your attention as soon as they arrived back in Mississippi. You could hardly believe they were back after years spent working for Al Capone. They purchased a sawmill from a bigoted landowner and chose to open their own farm.

It hasn't been a popular topic ever since; you've known them for so long that the exact time escapes you. You were a close friend of both, and occasionally, others questioned why they picked you. when trouble seemed to follow them sometimes.

The twins knew that you were a working woman, trying to keep the boat afloat. But you had your eyes on Smoke, not Stack.

Stack wanted to get an exorcism on him after what happened with Mary, once it was, he felt free of her venom, her evil spell.

A hoodoo from Annie helps Smoke in ways only whispered about—dark, uncanny ways. He was able to sleep at night.

The juke joint was no longer in business ever since that night. It became nothing more than a forgotten memory, a chapter in the town's history shrouded in mystery.

All you knew of them was that weren't married, no kids. It was only business, and money.

Your sister Asia, wasn’t the one to catch you slipping from doing the simple tasks at work but this time she got lucky.

“Y/N! What is wrong with’chu? Mama doesn’t want us foolin’ around in the store!” Asia yelled, her hand on her hip.

You almost flinched from her voice, but didn’t move an inch. You sighed lowly before placing the books inside the empty spaces in the bookshelf.

“I’m just gettin’ a lil’ distracted, that’s all Asia,” You shot back, your tone filled with annoyance, you grabbed another box of books and ripped it open.

You spent your early mornings and late nights alongside your sister Asia in your mother's shop, selling books, agricultural products, and various essential items for farm life.

Aisa scoffed at you, clearly unimpressed by your words. She definitely knew about your feelings for Smoke.

“Please tell me that you ain’t lookin’ Smoke’s way, he’s trouble.”

“I would be lyin” if I said I wasn’t sista.” You chuckled lightly, placing your

You fixed the hem of your black dress with red roses plastered on them, until you spotted Smoke toward the store.

You hurried your way to the counter, and pushed your sister to the side, while she gave you a skeptical glare.

Smoke sauntered in, his charm unmistakable even in the dim afternoon light filtering through the window.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Smoke drawled, tipping his hat with a sly smile.

Asia crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow, clearly waiting for you to speak first. You cleared your throat and finally spoke up, “Good afternoon Smoke,”

“What would you like to buy today?” You brought up, holding your hand behind your back to stop them from shaking.

His eyes deep brown eyes gleamed with mischief as they settled on yours. "I'm hoping to trade for some new seeds," he said, leaning casually on the counter.

“Oh! I know just what you need! Here are some of the best tomato seeds we have.” You replied back, You reached under the counter, producing a small burlap sack with a flourish.

You passed the sack to him, while he passed a bundle of dollar bills back to you, his fingers brushing yours. “Thank you, but it’s too much money,” you stammered, trying to return some of the cash.

Smoke shook his head, his smile widening. "Nah, keep the change. Ya'll already work yo’ tails off in this sto’, you deserve it. Besides the fact that this is my favorite place,” he added, taking in the surroundings as if he were seeing them anew.

Heat raised in your cheeks once you pulled your hand away, feeling a wave of nervousness. It wasn't every day that a customer, especially someone like Smoke, made you feel so noticed.

“Thank you, Elijah,”

You watched him walk out of the store and give you a wink, and you've finally looked back at your sister, “Don't give me that look, I know that you're fond of him, I'm sure he feels the same,” she spoke up.

“I'm gonna take a day off, tell mama that I'll be back in time for supper.” You said, grabbing your bag from under the counter.

Asia watched you with a knowing grin while shaking her head, she was happy for you but you left to do all the work, she was gonna have to make up a good excuse for this one. But you needed a break from that store, running a business was already stressful enough.

“Hey, Elijah!”

The twin brothers turned around you, giving that devious smirk and Smoke spoke up first. “Yeah?”

“I was hopin’ that we could spend some time together?”

He couldn't help but smile wider, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “Of course, I would love to court you this afternoon. Just tell me where you'd like to go, and I'll make it happen.”

Stack eyed you up and down, the curve of your ass, the dress hugging your body perfectly, Smoke’s eyes lingered after his brother's. “I understand why you want to hang back at the store,” Stack teased, catching your eye.

“Back off, nigga she's mine, you were just freed of the white devil,” Smoke shot back in a whisper.

Stack rolled his eyes, sighing after what he said, “That don't mean I lost sight of this beauty right here,”

“Back up and I mean that shit,” Smoke shot back, his tone laced with anger.

“A’ight, a nigga will back off,”

You walked up toward Smoke with a smile, feeling the tension between the brothers dissipate as you focused on him. “Let’s just go somewhere fun. I’ve been cooped up in that store for too long.”

Smoke’s expression softened, and he nodded. “I know just the place. The old riverbank is quiet this time of day. We can sit, talk, and maybe even dance a little if the mood strikes.”

“Dance? You think you can keep up with me?” you teased, your heart racing at the thought of being alone with him.

“Oh, I know I can,” he replied, his voice frim and confident.

You both made your way to the riverbank, the sun casting a golden hue over everything. The sound of water lapping against the shore mixed with the chirping of cicadas, the two of you sat down underneath a big oak tree.

As he pulled a thick soft woolen blanket, you settled down on it, you felt the weight of the world lift off your shoulders. “This is nice,” you said, looking out over the water.

“Yeah, it is, But it’s even nicer with you here.” Smoke agreed, his gaze fixed on you.

You felt your cheeks heat up again, and you looked away, trying to hide your smile. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nah, I mean it. You’re special to me, Y/N. Always have been,” he said, moving closer.

His honesty caught you off guard. “I…I feel the same way, Smoke. But it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” he pressed, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated, your heart racing. “You know how people talk. About you and Stack. About the trouble that follows you.”

Smoke chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Let them talk. They don’t know us. They don’t know what we’ve been through. I’m not that man anymore. I’m here for you, not for the past.”

You looked into his deep brown eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was warmth and sincerity. “You really mean that?”

“More than anything, I came back for you,” he said, his voice firm.

You felt a rush of emotions as you leaned in closer, your lips almost touching. “Then why don't you show me?”

Smoke wasted no time, closing the distance and crashing his lips into yours.

The kiss was soft at first, but it quickly deepened, igniting a fire within you that had long been dormant. Your lips sliding across his, feeling his soft hands cradle your face as he pulled you closer.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. “Wow,” you whispered, your heart racing.

“Yeah, wow,” Smoke echoed, a playful grin spreading across his face. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too, but what about Stack?” you admitted, feeling bold.

“Stack can handle himself. This is about us,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll always protect what’s mine.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of belonging wash over you. “And what if I’m not ready for all that?”

“Then we take it slow,” he replied, brushing your box braids behind your ear.

You laughed softly, the sound echoing in the quiet space. “Slow is good too.”

He kissed you again before peppering kissing along the crook of your neck, with his hands on the small of your back, you squirmed in your seat and your breathing became hollow. “E-Elijah, I...I want you so much,”

He kissed the shell of your ear, feeling the warmth flow through you causing your clit to throb. His cupped your ass roughly, the soft flesh made him groan lowly, and his length hardened in his pants. “I want you more than you ever know darlin’, fuck,”

“W-wait, we're outside, someone might see us,” You whispered, your eyes darting through the small riverback.

“Would you like to go somewhere private, baby?”

“Yes, You really are trouble?”

Maybe a little trouble from him wasn't so bad, but the two of you standing up from the blanket, he picked it up and folded it in his hands. You and Elijah walked onto the small bridge that led to his house.

The cool night breeze carried the scent of fresh earth and blooming wildflowers, and grabbed your hand. He led you toward the front door of brown lumber, he fished out the keys and unlocked the door with a swift flick.

He opened the front door for you as you stepped inside the cozy living room, closing the door behind you. He twisted the lock, and followed behind

“My room is on the left, sweetheart.” He guided you, his voice raised an octave with a hint of rasp in it.

As you walked the hallways, seeing pictures of Smoke and Stack when they were younger, their mom between them hugging them tighter. You heard the story of their father

Whew, that's southern twang with that voice of his made your pussy throb. Carefully fanning yourself with a shaky exhale, his arms wrapped around your waist and peppered kisses along your neck. You sighed blissfully before kissing him back, a wave of heat washed over you.

Both of your clothes littered across the bedroom floor, the sound of lips coliiding filling the room, soft moans from you were music to his ears.

Smoke dragged his dick toward you, halting at your wet pussy, and he slid hismself into you, as you moaned at the size of him. “fuck..” you dragged out in a moan, pushing your hips with him.

He started off with deep, long thrusts, focusing on that sweet spot that you squirm underneath him. The sound of skin-to-skin slapping together echoed in the room and your arm wrapped around him. “So fucking goodd..” you whimpered, legs shaking.

You kept him close to you, This moment was perfect and you were with him, “That pussy is still tight, and wet huh?” he teased, lifting you onto his lap.

You rode him with such skill, as his hand smacked your ass once more, “Answer me,” You were unable to respond, your moans sounded like gibberish. Everything in you was telling you to release already, but you wanted more.

Blinking away tears from the pleasure, “Yess..” you trailed off, kissing his shoulder. He made sure you felt the love through every thrust, eliciting moans. His dick kissing that sweet spot of yours, eyes rolling back. Giving you everything all at once.

The way he fucked you so good made you see the heavens, hands clenching the sheets. “You drive me wild, baby, don't you feel the love I'm givin’ you?” He said, thrusting deeper. You did feel it, every single time, you were a wet babbling mess, he smirked at the mess that was made in his lap, biting his lip.

A knot tightening in your stomach letting you know that your climax was here, bodies quaking. Without saying a word, you came undone, your essence pouring out on his dick, while squirting on his abdomen. “Damn, girl.” he groaned lowly.

Bodies collapsed beside each other, panting heavily replaced with laughter. He turned his face to you while you looked his way, “You good, sweetheart?” he asked in concern, his thumb swiping over your cheek.

“Yeah, I'm good, let’s clean up,” you panted heavily, smirking at him. Feeling a wave of happiness wash over you.

After that, the two of you took showers, getting dressed and he drove you back home. As he kissed you goodnight, you knew that this was the beginning of you and him, something magical.

————-

[shetheabsolute]

— Fruit for thought

(Sinners, 2000s era au)

Stack × Original character (Imaan Irie Miller)

Pilot, "Flashback to us" (next)

Seven Years Ago

Imaan’s living room glowed warm like late afternoon honey. A floor lamp draped in orange scarf fabric cast little swirls of color onto the walls. The whole place smelled like patchouli and something sweet simmering from the kitchen. The stereo in the corner hummed low with a scratched-up Lauryn Hill CD, track five: "I Used to Love Him."

Stack was posted up on her couch, one arm lazily draped across the back, legs stretched out like he paid rent there. He didn’t. But he looked too at home. That was his thing—always lookin’ like he belonged even where he didn’t.

Imaan sat near him, cross-legged on the floor, braiding her hair in the mirror propped on the coffee table and laughing at something he said—real soft, one of those breathy, mmm-you-a-fool laughs. She was only one braid in, an oversized tee with the collar slipping off her shoulder, and her shorts had hiked up way past her thighs, not that she cared. Her house, her heat, her rules. Stack? He was watching her with everything she did it.

“Mani,” he lingered, voice just above the music, “if I knew you had all this peace out here, I woulda stopped messin’ with them city girls a long time ago.”

She paused to glance over at him. “I don't like my peace being followed by chaos, Stack.”

"Oh, word? Okay then. Be liked that," He smiled, eyes lazy with that flirtation he always carried like a second skin. “You ever think ‘bout movin’ back to Jamaica?”

“Mm, I dunno,” she mused, fingers twisting. “Only when Mississippi start feeling like it don’ want me here.”

“..I want you here,” he almost cooed the words out. Made Imaan’s insides churn just the way she loved.

She turned away to hide her grin. “You want everything that got a heartbeat.”

“Damn that was cold,” he said, pressing his hand to chest dramatically. “And, that ain’t true.”

“Oh it ain't?” she teased, standing now, walking over slow with the braid half-done, end flying out wild. “You mean tell me you don’ still got Mary tucked way in your back pocket?”

Stack leaned forward, grinning. “Why you steady bringin’ up old stuff?”

“Boy, you know damn well that ain’t old,” she said, slipping between his legs to stand over him, “especially if it’s still in rotation.”

He looked up at her, that dimple pressing deep into his cheek. “You jealous?”

“No,” she said, matter-of-fact. “I’m territorial with my peace, not my options.”

He laughed, his head shaking. “Why you always gotta have a mouth?”

“Cause you always come through my house playing.”

The song switched to “Ex-Factor.” Her hips circle a little with the intro. Slow and teasing without her meaning to do it. That bass always did something to her. Maybe he noticed. Probably did becasue before she knew it his hands ghosted up to her waist, fingers curling against her skin. And she didn’t stop him.

“Imaan,” he called, voice dipped in something sticky. Like he didn’t already have her attention.

She looked down at him, face unreadable. He slowly moved to pull her in closer—like he didn’t want to scare the feeling away if it was real this time. His breath brushed against her mouth and her lips parted, just slightly. One more inch and he woulda tasted h—

A hand raises, single finger pressed to his lips, stopping him right there in his tracks.

“You still messin’ with that white girl?”

Stack blinked, caught off guard. “You know, she not really whi—”

“Whatever she is,” Imaan interrupted, tilting her head down, eyes locked onto his, “if she still on your hip...”

She leaned in, lips so close he could taste the candy on her breath.

“…then you ain’t gettin’ none…”

Her finger slid from his lips down to the underside of his chin, shifting his head up. Then she paused, mouth resting over his, breath warm against him.

“…of this.”

And just like that, she pulled away, smooth and sure, shifting to sit back down on the floor like she didn’t just leave him breathless.

“You messed up for that,” Stack groaned and fell back onto the cushions, dragging a hand down his face.

She smirked over her shoulder. “Told you ion do second.”

【Present Day】

Folks call her Bag Lady.

Not outta spite or mockery—no. It was just how things worked round here. If you lived far off the gravel roads and came to town dressed like Erykah Badu meets thrifted Dior, carrying a red fishnet bag stuffed with poem books, personal grown fruit, and a single carved wooden pipe? You got a name. Became a story.

But Imaan never minded.

The south had a lot brewing in it. It had home written in its air, soul, people–new and old, it had culture. It is the culture. It might not have looked like much to outsiders, especially in the new millennium. Just a stretch of open sky, faded paint on wood porches, and dust that clung to shoes like secrets. But to Imaan, Mississippi had become her quiet place. Her new beginning. Even if it never stopped whispering about her.

She moved to the States from Mandeville, Jamaica when she was eighteen—alone, carrying little but a suitcase, her mother’s anklet, and a purse slung low over her shoulder. That was when people around town started calling her bag lady, half-joking, half-afraid. She didn’t bother correcting them either. She liked to let people talk.

Imaan lived by herself on the countryside. A pretty but worn two-story, off-white house with metal gates surrounding the border and a funny sign on the entrance that let people know she wasn’t someone to be scare of. Wild grass wrapped around the porch, and wind chimes she made from colored glass bottles and metal spoons danced on her window ledge. Imaan kept to herself. Smoked her weed in the morning with tea, read romance paperbacks with dog-eared pages, and grew fruit to sale. Her eyes were soft brown, framed by lashes too perfect to fake, and her skin glowed with the kind of care that comes from loving yourself in private.

Back in the day, there use to be Stack.

They talked sometimes. Not often, but enough to linger in each other’s memory. She liked that he didn't always try to impress her. Sometimes he’d catch her outside while she was watering her herbs or walking back from Bo Chow’s store with her fishnet bag heavy with meat or soap.

He’d lean up on her porch rail, shirt clinging to his sweat, and say something like, "You always smell like sumn sweet, Mani." Or "let me buy you a drink tonight." He was slick that way.

She never let him touch her for too long, though. They may have had their silences, their glances, but she wouldn’t cross that line—not when she knew he had Mary, even if no one else knew for sure. Imaan wasn’t about to play second fiddle to nobody.

So when the twins dipped for Chicago, she knew he wasn’t gonna say goodbye. No letter. No call. Just gone. But still Imaan stood on her porch for a while the next morning, watching the empty road like it owed her something.

Then seven years passed.

People forgot how close Imaan and Stack might’ve been. Or maybe they just didn’t care. Imaan stayed quiet, laid back, kept to her routines like clockwork. But some day's, when she was alone, she still thought about him. Wondered if he was okay. If he still thought about her the way she did him.

She hated that she cared so much. Cared about everything with her heart, not her head. It was cruel when she felt that way about the man who had left her high and dry. Life was fucking cruel.

But that was just how things went. Win some, lose some.

masterlist

[freaky-right]

this isn’t my usual content, but cmon this is too good not to post 😩 go see sinners yall

[sparkssummons01]

I highly recommend watching Sinners it's a 10/10 good movie, Michael B Jordan and Hailee Steinfeld killed it in this movie.

[ariesthetouchdeprivedgirl]

Behind Closed Doors

Pt. 2

Smoke x Black!OC

Here’s part two!!! I’ve been working on this all day, so I’m a little drained. Please excuse any typos, or too many repeated phrases. I would really appreciate any feedback, your girl is new to this not true to this, so anything will help! Anyways! I hope yall enjoy!!

The next morning Jane awoke to the smell of breakfast wafting through her apartment. She sat up in bed, blinking a few times, trying to clear her foggy, sleepy mind. Smoke’s side of the bed lacked warmth, the sheets cool and undisturbed.

Jane swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Her feet making contact with the cold floor sent a small shiver up her spine as she grabbed her silk robe. The fabric glided over her shoulders while she slid her feet into some fuzzy slippers and opened the door.

Her feet padded against the floor as she made her way towards the kitchen. Her head empty until Smoke was in her view. She paused and watched him for a moment, admiring the way the sunlight working beautifully with the smooth brown skin of his back.

He stood over the stove, frying what she declared to be an egg. His movements were slow, deliberate; Smoke always took his time with everything he did. Everything was calculated and strategically thought out.

Disrupting Jane from her train of thought, Smoke finally spoke.

“Sit.” It was firm and low. He didn’t bother speaking, focused on the sizzling pan in front of him.

Jane complied without hesitation. Sliding into a chair at the table. She could feel the tension from his words, but she relished in his instructions. There was an ease in obeying his words, a comfort in the way he spoke, even when the weight of his tone dripped heavy with expectation.

His voice always gave her a sense of direction, grounding her in moments where everything felt unsteady.

She watched him finish cooking, the smooth flex of his muscles working harmoniously with his steady movements. Watching him, her thoughts to drift back to their tense conversation from last night. Smoke’s questioning still lingering in her mind.

She thought hard about why Smoke was making breakfast. Was it out of guilt? Or was it some way for him to ease her into finishing the discussion he tried to have yesterday.

The burner clicked off, snapping her back to the present. He turned around, dark eyes pooling with intensity and sat the plate in front of her with a firm thump.

“Eat.” He commanded with a soft but yielding tone, head motioning toward the plate.

Jane looked down at her food, a steamy fried egg, crispy bacon, and a piece of bread toasted lightly. The plate looked good, something she would’ve gladly enjoyed any other day. But she didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment. Her mind was too busy trying not to think about everything from last night.

Either way, she picks up a fork and began to eat. Always obeying any order from Smoke.

She picks at a piece the egg before taking her first bite chewing slowly. She was nervous, feeling Smoke watch her like a hawk. The food wasn’t bad, it was actually pretty good. But it didn’t settle in her stomach well. In fact, each bite sat heavy.

But that didn’t stop Jane, she continued to eat, avoiding looking up.

Smoke watched her. His eyes practically beaming into Jane made her want to shrink back into herself. She could feel the way his eyes lingered on her—judging, waiting. That same look that could strip her bare without a word. Reminding her of how deep his hold ran on her.

Jane wanted to say something, just to break the silence, but every time she glanced at him, she dropped her eyes back down to the plate.

She couldn’t take this, her nerves were too raw, and it was beginning to show in her fluttering hands. She set the fork down with a sharp clink nudging the plate away from her.

Smoke said nothing at first. He simply stared, an unwavering gaze. Waiting for her to speak, or crack.

Finally, when the weight of the world seemed to nearly crush her into the ground, he spoke.

“You feel like talking yet?” His voice was low and smooth.

Jane’s heart skipped. She knew their discussion from last night was bound to happen, she just didn’t expect it to be fresh off the wake up. Then again, it was Smoke. He wasn’t the type to wait around for answers.

Jane glanced at him, his stance relaxed and dominant. Leaning against the counter with crossed arms. He looked like a force of nature, watching her from above.

She cleared her throat, gathering herself before responding. “Can I get something to drink baby? My throat is dry.”

Smoke’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing as he walked to the fridge. Grabbing a carton of orange juice out and pouring Jane a small cup.

“Thank you.” She said softly, offering a small smile.

“Save it baby.” He replied dismissively. “Answer my question.”

Jane’s smile faded, her nerves fraying. She was tired the back and forth. The weight of this whole situation had been crushing her, and she was ready to get back to normal, to get back to loving her man.

“Um, well… Bernice called me, and said she saw you at the club.” Jane’s voice thick with hesitation.

Smoke had no response. Gaze never wavering as he waited for her to continue.

“With another woman.” The words stung her mouth as they left her lips. She was annoyed with herself for feeling hurt, for dripping with jealousy. She was his mistress, she had no right to feel this way.

Smoke face was unreadable. But Jane could see something in his eyes. Something dark and calculating.

“And you believed her?”

Jane’s eyebrows furrowed.

Jane stiffened, a flicker of anger sparking her eyes. “What? Why wouldn’t I believe her?” She shot back, voice tinged with offense. Bernice had always been there for her, always told her the truth.

She had been Jane’s first friend when she moved to Chicago, always looking out for her, protecting and guiding her. Bernice never lied to her, and she couldn’t imagine why she would start now.

Smoke said nothing, eyes holding hers, unblinking. His silence stretched long enough to make her question herself.

“You believe everything she tell you?” His voice quiet, but dangerous.

“Yes?” Her voice held less conviction than she intended, her stare sounding more like a question than anything.

“How you know she ain’t lying.”

Jane’s frown deepened. “Why would she lie?”

Smoke kept watching her.

“Bernice ain’t never lie to me before. Why would she start now?” Jane frustratedly continued.

“You tell me.”

“What?” Jane exclaimed, rolling her eyes in frustration.

“Why she worried bout what she think I’m doing”

“Ain’t nobody worried bout you Smoke.” Jane snapped. “She was just looking out for me”

“By running her mouth on what she thought she saw”

“She ain’t run her mouth. She was just letting me know what she saw.”

“For what? I ain’t yo business.”

Jane paused, her breath catching in her throat. Right. Smoke wasn’t her business. He wasn’t even her man.

Her fingers clenched around the edge of the table as his words sank in. She felt her chest tighten, and a lump form in her throat. She couldn’t believe Smoke would say that to her. As if what they had meant nothing.

With a frustrated scoff, Jane stood up, her chair scraping against the floor, a harsh sound that echoed through the apartment. She didn’t spare Smoke an another glance as she stormed to her bedroom. Slippers slapping angrily against the wooden floor with each step.

Deep down her heart was hammering. She didn’t want to keep arguing with him. Not when the possibility of losing him could happen at any moment. But he had pushed her too far this time.

Smoke smirked at her outburst, shaking his head as the door slammed behind her. The sound rattling through the walls. Smoke pushed off the counter, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he approached the door.

“Storming off like a lil ass girl ain’t gon end this conversation Jane.” His firm voice cut through the door.

Silence.

Inside the room, her pulse raced, anger surging through her veins. He wasn’t her business? Then what the hell was he? He sure as hell wasn’t no stranger off the street.

She yanked her closet door open, grabbing Smoke’s shirts and ripping them off their hangers with sharp, furious tugs.

He heard her chaos through the door, the sharp clatter of hangers and rustling fabrics. Smoke couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her theatrics.

He twisted the doorknob and stepped inside, only for a crumbled shirt to come flying at his head. He swiftly stepped out the way, avoiding the shirt as it smacked against the doorframe and fell to the floor.

“Cut that shit out Jane.” He growled, patience thinning.

Jane turned to him, breath coming in sharp shallow bursts, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Fuck you Smoke.” Her voice trembled with fury. “Get your shit and get out.” She snatched another armful of clothes, chucking them in his direction without care.

He just stood there, letting her tire herself out.

“You not my business?” She snapped, a hanger clutched in her hand, trembling as she pointed it at him. “I guess fucking me through that mattress every night, in the apartment you put me in, don’t mean shit, right?” She flung the hanger at the wall beside him.

Smoke just stood there, watching her with those dark eyes, unblinking. He let her dig her own hole, knowing she’d come running back to him. Smoke never had to say anything, it wasn’t necessary. The control he had over her, the way he could make her so hot and then leave her to simmer down. He knew how to play her like no one else could.

There was something about his calm demeanor that made her blood boil. She turned to him again, chest heaving with shallow breaths. Her fists clinched so tight she could feel the blood draining from her fingers.

Heat licked up her spine, every nerve on edge. She didn’t know if she was angry with him, herself, or both.

“Go ahead, tear it all down if it makes you feel better.” He didn’t raise his voice, or let his temper slip. Smoke’s way too calculated for that. But his jaw tightened, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes for just a second.

Jane’s chest heaved, rage and heartbreak stirring inside her. She took shaky steps back, a shirt slipping from her grasp. Smoke followed, his hand catching her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“But you really gonna let her tell you what’s true?” he asked, voice rough, almost too quiet. “You trust her more than you trust me?”

“She’s never lied to me.” Jane shot back. “But you got every reason to lie. You do it enough to your wife.” Her voice trembled.

Smoke’s eyes narrowed, his pulse quickening.

“Think about what you sayin.” He murmured. “You think I’d slip up like that? Or you just believing her cause it fit the story you done wrote in your head.” His thumb brushed her jawline, a deliberate expression that felt comforting, yet cautionary.

Jane’s eyes were a mix of anger and uncertainty. She wanted to push him away, to break free from this hold he had on her. But she couldn’t, his warmth, his calloused thumb brushing her face.. shit she ain’t wanna move.

“I ain’t stupid Smoke. I know what this is.”

Smoke kissed her forehead, a gesture that almost felt comforting. “Then act like it.” He whispered. “Stop lettin other people put thoughts in your head.”

“You didn’t have to throw it in my face like that.” Her voice cracked.

“I ain’t throwin it in your face. But if you gon question me over some he-say she-say bullshit, I’m gon remind you where we stand”

A tear slipped down her cheek. Her head dropped, feeling like a child being scolded. “I just wanted you to tell me the truth.” She hated feeling like this.

“And I been trying to, you just too caught up in your feelings to hear me.” His firm grip on her chin, slipped to her cheek, wiping the tear away. “You understand?” He asked.

Jane nodded. This happened every damn time. He twisted things until she felt like she was the villain of the story. But maybe she had really overreacted this time, and she had to admit, the whole thing was immature.

She was losing her mind over something she didn’t even see for herself. It was a huge waste of time, and they only had a limited amount of time with each other anyway.

Jane swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper when she muttered “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing, maybe because she realized she couldn’t hold the weight of her anger alone anymore. She wrapped herself around him, letting him absorb the words she couldn’t say.

Smoke smirked. “It’s okay baby, you know I can’t stay mad at you for long.”

Jane smiled, letting the tension disperse as she melted into his embrace. His voice, especially that tone he spoke to her in, it was all so familiar, so comfortable. She pressed a kiss to his lips, trying to burn the fire heating inside her.

Smoke met her kiss, hand slipping to her waist, fingers tightening as he pulled her closer. Their kiss deepened each second, his hand on her cheek controlling her movement. His dominance, usually sharp, felt a bit gentler now, just how she liked it. He had her wrapped around his finger, and they both knew it.

“All that fussin for nothin.” His lips barely left hers, the whisper a kiss itself. Before she could respond Smoke’s hands traveled quickly, lifting her off her feet. Jane’s laugh bubbled, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, fingers cradling his face.

“You cleanin this up when I’m done with you.” He muttered, his smirk almost predatory, but he held that rare softness in his eyes that she came to love. Everything was in his control again, like always.

He carefully assessed a situation, and handled it with ease. But deep down, Jane knew better. She knew he tricked her, once again. But she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She would never be able to resist Smoke.

If you made it this far THANK YOU for reading!! I would appreciate any comments and suggestions/feedback. ❤️❤️

taglist:

@marley1773 @remmickcherie @rolemodelshit @keiva1000 @christinabae @jackierose902109 @fruitypebblesstuff @solarssins @thickemadame @melodyofmbaku

[rdmasevi]

Salt and Smoke

Title: “Salt and Smoke”: A Sinners fanfiction

Pairing: Smoke and Stack x Reader Fem

Genre: Supernatural Romance | Psychological Drama | Love Triangle

Warnings: Strong language, Implied sexual content, Violence / gun use, Religious trauma, Emotional manipulation.

Summary: In 1930s Mississippi, you take refuge in Clarksdale, where the Moore twins—charismatic Stack and stoic Smoke—run a juke joint with a haunted past. As supernatural forces stir beneath the Delta soil, you’re drawn into a dangerous love triangle—and a war between salvation and damnation.

You showed up in Clarksdale two weeks before the storm hit.

You weren’t looking for salvation—you were running from it. From church doors that closed too late and whispers that followed you like your shadow. The South had a way of remembering, even when you begged it to forget. But in Clarksdale, nobody asked questions, not when everyone’s got blood on their hands and blues in their bones.

You took a job sweeping up the juke joint the Moore twins had just opened on the edge of town. It was an old sawmill, turned holy ground. The night it opened, it was baptized in bourbon and sweat, and you saw Smoke and Stack for the first time.

Stack walked like a devil who knew you’d already sinned.

Smoke watched you like he was counting the weight of your soul.

You tried to ignore them both.

——

Smoke found you behind the bar two nights later, binding your hand after a broken bottle got too personal. He was quiet—always was—but he took your wrist gently in his palm, wrapping it with a clean handkerchief like a prayer.

"You know what people say about this place?" he asked without looking at you.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

"They say blood runs under the floorboards. From the war. From what came after."

"And you reopened it anyway?"

Smoke shrugged, one corner of his mouth twitching up. "The Devil already knew our names. We just figured it was time we met him properly."

——

Stack was different.

He didn’t ask questions. He smoked cloves and talked about dreams like they owed him something. Some nights, you'd find him sitting at the piano long after the crowd disappeared, fingers dragging melodies out of the keys like confessions.

"You ever make a deal?" he asked you once, his eyes lit like the reflection of hellfire in whiskey.

You told him no. But the truth was—maybe you had. Maybe you did every time you looked at him.

Because Stack was danger. He kissed like a man trying to forget the things he’d seen. And you let him. Over and over.

Until Smoke caught you one night in the back hallway, hair a mess and breath still sweet from Stack’s mouth. His jaw tensed, but he didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t break anything.

"I thought you were smarter than this," he said low, turning away before you could say anything.

You hated how it hurt.

——

Then Remmick came. And everything changed.

Sammie stopped singing. The dogs howled every night before dawn. And Stack—Stack started talking to shadows.

He kissed you harder after that. Asked you to leave with him. Said, “There’s something under this town and it’s waking up. I don’t know what it wants, but it ain’t good.”

You went to Smoke that night instead. Sat beside him on the porch while he cleaned his revolver.

“Something’s coming,” you said.

“I know.”

“We should go.”

“I can’t,” he said. “Stack’s my brother. You… you're something else.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder.

“If I stay,” you whispered, “it’s not because I’m brave.”

Smoke turned his face toward you, hand resting heavy on your thigh. “No. It’s because you belong here. Just like us.”

——

The night the sky cracked open, music poured from the mill like it was being torn from another world. Stack stood on the roof, blood on his chest, fire behind his eyes. Smoke was already below, aiming his gun at something you couldn’t see.

You were at the center.

Between the man you loved like a sin and the one who loved you like a prayer.

Stack offered you his hand, voice shaking.

“Come with me. Leave all this behind.”

Smoke’s voice cut through the thunder: “Stay. Help me stop this. You know this place needs saving.”

Your name was on both their tongues.

And somewhere between heaven and hell, you had to decide what kind of sinner you were.

My main masterlist

[theyluvlyss]

i saw your post on needing more creativity (to word it briefly) in remmick/sinners fanfics and IM HERE TO SUPPLY!! im thinking of making a new account should i do it???

𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 !!!

per my last couple of posts, I would LOVE some requests to start piling up. I wanna see more ideas and thoughts for me to work with (and fangirl about🥴✋🏽-).

and as far as you making an account goes, anon, I ofc encourage you do it if it will make you happy - legit, the whole reason I started this blog was because I wanted my own space to write, say, request, post, etc. whatever tf I want, so you'll never get a 'no' from me when trying to do the same😌🫶🏽.

reminder to all, though !! to reiterate/add to some of my boundaries when it comes to sinners requests specifically !! ...

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

I know I have and am usually/typically willing to write taboo topics when it comes to other fandoms, but sinners (to me, in my personal opinion) is a lot more sacred and special, so there's certain changes i'm making/abiding by apart from my usual/normal rules out of both respect and just the simple fact that it's just gonna be strict 'round this bitch, like, idk what to tell you lmao.

- NO moore twins incest or stepcest, i'm not doing it.

- no weird "sammick" bullshit, this is not a sammick ship friendly blog, don't interact, follow, or request things regarding that ship towards me, you'll be blockt with a QUICKNESS.

- I do welcome think, theory, and thirst pieces in my ask inbox, but be aware each of those topics will be kept separate from one another. time and place rules; don't bring up think piece material in the comments of an imagine I worked hard on that has nothing to do with the nuances of the movie and it's themes - and vice versa - don't start thirsting under posts I may make regarding how I view the characters and their role/purpose and whatnot.

- i'm not at all opposed to age gaps, but i'm not doing anything illegal, so don't even go there. but yeah, again, this is vampire media/content - age gaps are a large chunk of the appeal and if you don't like that, then maybe you're not ready to engage in vamp content, idk😭🤷🏽‍♀️.

- unless written or requested otherwise, reader will always be assumed 20+ years old, black/black-coded, and southern. and when it comes to requesting otherwise, plz be clear with your intentions on why, and don't be weird - like seriously, if I see something I don't like, it's not getting written and I will put you on blast, I don't have patience whatsoever for nonsense, so don't start😭🙏🏽.

- i'm a bit picky when it comes to plots, fair warning (i'll try not to let it be an issue tho lol no worries) - especially modern au's, so don't expect a whole lot of those unless you want some of my more "awkward" writing (for lack of a better word) lmao.

- I will write for...

elias "stack" moore

elijah "smoke" moore

sammie "preacher boy" moore

remmick

bo chow

- I shouldn't even have to say this, but NO, I will not be doing any kkk members x reader, kkk dynamic work, kkk NOTHING. I don't even have the words to explain the disgust and anger that it brings me to even think about it, i'm fighting for my life not to say nothing violent and out of pocket rn-...

- be aware that I don't have an official masterlist yet, so stay tuned for when that gets uploaded, because when it does, that means the very first of any sinners related fics of mine has been completed and added :D !!

- and last but not least, basic fanfic/account etiquette...

don't like what I write? don't read it.

don't like me or my content? block me.

questions? just ask, and be respectful.

and finally, if you leave any type of negativity on my page, you'll be dealt with accordingly.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

anyways, that's all for now. thanks for reading this and for all of the strong engagement, love, and support I've received so far on the topic of sinners fanfic, it's really jarring in a good way after being kind of a dead account for a while😭🙏🏽. I hope I can deliver what y'all want/are expecting💕.

byeeee /ᐠ^˕^マ !!!

[prettywritess]

|Infatuated| 18+ “ SINNERS” FAN FICTION TEASER🎀

“Infatuated ” by prettywritess

Authors Note: “hey babies, I’ve missed y’all, y’all missed me? It’s been too long and a lot of my writings have been long overdue, don’t worry I’m working on releasing old fics specifically letita weight ones, and old drafts and etc. I’m also working on a masterlist so it’s easier for my readers to access specific fics since my content will began to range in varies. anyhoo,enjoy ml ;)”

“for my new readers: my fics normally don’t contain hard or triggering mentions, but this setting will, if your easily triggered by this list of things pls check out one of my other fics! “

⚠️WARNINGS⚠️:Mentions Of Sex, Acholiuc Abuse,Physical and Domestic Abuse,Adultrey, Drugs,”Fast” Money, No I don’t do INCEST but yes they fucking the same girl, idk do what you wish with that information… and etc.

©️• All Right Reserved

enjoy💐

_

infatuation • an intense but short-lived passion or admiration for someone or something.

_

“Fuck” small whimpers and sweet nothings cursed through the stuffy air of the dem litted room.

It was probably 2 minutes before 1am and you and them didn’t have a care in the world about anything other than what was happening right about now.

Around town you where the “stuck up” and “snobby” and they’re favorite thing “couldn’t keep a man” but this was only to the many men you had turned down and the desperate wives who lusted after they’re husbands attention but could never get it, although you didn’t need to do much because they would give it too you for free.

But you didn’t want any of them. Not in the way you wanted ..them.

Them? Stack and Smoke. Yes it was greedy but you couldn’t chose. And they weren’t letting up, so you accepted both, wasn’t much like you had a choice, they wanted you and they were gonna have you no matter what it took.

You had a mouth on you, an attitude, and you couldn’t listen for shit. No man wanted to put up with a little lady like yourself who had her own, and could do what she wanted because nothing they offered was something you couldn’t get, you liked what you liked and it was your way or no way.But Stack and Smoke knew what to do with you and that’s just the way you liked it.

They didn’t flourish you with gifts and money, they provided you with teachable, showed you that anything they accomplished you could too.

But how did you get to this place? Sprawled out on the bed letting two men idintical to each other fuck you relentlessly. Stacks tounge flipping up and down yoir clit as smoke tenderly stricken his manhood in and out of your mouth. How did you become so slutty, so open, so easy?

Let’s Recaps.

-

It was September 3rd 1932, on a hot Sunday, In deep Mississippi. The sun shined bright as people left in and out of your bakery, requesting some of everything on the menu, it was even worse considering the fact that you and only your 2 best friends Lucy and Milly Mae where the only people inside, you the baker and them the cashiers,it felt like it had lasted all day before it came to an end.

Your bakery sat right in the middle of town,surrounded by banks,and blues stores,churches and more.

Being the god fearing women you where, you had strict morals and rules say out for yourself in this little thing called life, and growing up you loved baking, it was one thing you and your mom could do together even when she wasn’t sober.

_

“Bee!” You let out small laughs as your mom placed light slaps flour on your face

“Ha ha ha.” She turned her attention towards the dark batter as she mixed it together while you smiled lightly and dipped a finger into the batter tasting the sweet creamy chocolate melt on your tongue.

Your mom made the best baked dishes, cakes,cookies,pies, cobbler. It was all so good. Those little moments made it seem like all those good moments overweighted those bad ones.

When her and your dad would argue, your father stumbling around the house as they fought like two men, you rushed into the closet and placed your small hands over your ears, it would all be over soon you thought.

“YOU RUNNIN ROUND HE’AH WITH THAT WHITE BITCH,NO REPSEVT FOR THE FANILY YOU GOT AT HOME! YOU IS AH EVIL MAN!”

Soft cries left your mouth as shatter hit the walls, as you hugged yourself tighter it felt like the arguments became longer everytime.

Daddy didn’t come home on most nights, and it seemed like mama became more agressive, she always stunk of acholol and the house was messy all the time.

As you get into your teens, your study’s became more important to you, most of the time girls spent in shopping stores you spent in book stores, you loved to bake, and you loved children.

So you took all the money you saved as your job as part time store employee and put yourself into school, with the help of your grandma lord rest her soul,you moved to Arkansas and you became a teacher.

You worked as a teacher for about 2-3 years before you desired to return home to missippi, to lay your mama to rest and made the tough decision to reopen her old bakery.

“I love you Ma.” You said placing a small bouquet of flowers on her stone, you sat there for hours conversating as if she could hear you and speak back.

“Bee?”

“Pa.”

-

You had been rushed for the past week, being so y ready to let loose and sweat off all the stress from the opening.

Apart from the stress the bakery looked stunning, it was just what you pictured inside your mind,cute and comfortable, and welcoming.

You stood about 5’5,Thick thighs and Brown skip, you where full, chunky arms and a pudgy soft stomach, your skin was milky and your curls where messy, Your curls placed in a sloppy bun as sweat beamed from your forehead, the pink fabric on your dress was starting to browning from all the batter you had waste on it earlier, white speaks of flour covered your hands as you hurried and locked your shop, keys in hand along with your clutch and hat, around this time it was uncommon for women to drive but you had no choice. You were not gonna walk, and no one was gonna make you.

You walked towards your car rolling your eyes annoyed as women began to whisper and clutch their pearls.

People stood around on the side walks singing sweet blues, playing guitars, and children played hopscotch.

“Ms.Honey!” The kids yelped your name as they came running over with excitement

“Oh, my, how y’all babies doing today” you said showcasing a big smile

“Good,what about you?” A baby girl spoke, twisting her finger in one of her curl coils.

“Good- I gotta surprise for y’all.” You said waking around the other side of your car pulling out a box of cupcakes

The children began to yelp in excitement, making you chuckle.

But then there came silence, and everyone’s attention turned towards something else, or someone.. else.

You’d eyes flickered over to the car that stopped right in front of the old bank and from what you could see which wasn’t far, because you refused to wear your glasses, where two men. You hadn’t looked long before you opened your car door, clumsily dropping your keys in the process.

“Shit.” You said as you attempted to drop to your feet to hurry and pick up your keys.

“such a pretty lady with a foul mouth on her.” A deep hoarse voice spoke above her as she crouched onto the ground.

“I’m Stack.”

The END for now..

author: just a taste, because I love to tease.💋

[tallulahneale]

Wade in the water 

Summary: Sammie and Ellita (Reader) reconnect after years of distance.

At the age of 6 Ellita was adopted by George Moore, the father of Elias and Elijah. They restored life to the lost love she didn’t know she needed or missed. Her brothers always looked out for her and made sure she had the confidence to survive in any situation life presents. The rest of the Moore dynasty were receptive and accommodating through her transition into the home, especially Sammie. They were the closest in age; 10 and 14 respectively, which created a partners-in-crime type friendship. After skill class, they would walk home together sharing stories and pranks to play the following week. This weekend was the expansion of the church, Sammie’s father was the preacher and that meant he would be spending more time at the parish than with her. But no worries, she’ll see him on the Saturday.

For as along as she could remember, Saturday evenings at the Moore residence has always been busy and vibrant. Her role was in the kitchen with the other ladies preparing lunch for the community, while Elias and Elijah arrange the church schedule for tomorrow. She deslimes and debones the catfish, placing them in a bowl for the other women to continue slicing and seasoning.

“Guess who?” Sammie says tiptoeing behind her.

“Sammieee” Ellita squeals with glee.

The women glance across at her with a warning ‘not to leave the kitchen’ stare but Ellita runs out before they could get a word in. She hugs Sammie like she hasn’t seen him in months and begins to yap.

“Slow down” Sammie laughs at her rambling

“-and then” She pauses, taking a breathe in “Sorry, I get carried away sometimes” she twiddles her fingers nervously, while looking at the floor.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” She asks.

Sammie had being preparing a new song for the service, in hope that his Pops sees his passion for crooning. His voice is harmonious and powerful, she even gets goosebumps when he talks.

“Yep, Pops said I can play at the end” He smiles while swings their hands together. 

“I’m really glad for ya’ Sammie maybe you-”

“Ellita!” Elijah bellows from the hallway, sighting her and Sammie yapping.

“Quick run!!” She hears Elias say from behind his twin, as she and Sammie dash to the porch into the front yard giggling.

“Tasks need to be completed little sis” Elijah reprimands loudly “If everyone ran off with their friend, then no work would get done.” 

She rolls her eyes, crouching behind the store shed with Sammie as they watch the twins walk back into the house.

They spend the rest of the evening laid out on the warm green grass, staring into the navy blue sky scattered with stars. Sammie reaches over to grasp her hand, which she squeezes gently.

“I’m glad Unc found you”

“I’m glad he did too” She agrees with a nod, as they share a fleeting look at each other.

“Sammie, Ellita!” They hear from the porch “Meal time” 

He stands up putting his hand out to pull her up as their names are called for supper. She follows him closely as they make way to the house. Eyeing the food, she sights Elijah who looks at her with a squint. She grins cheekily making a silly-cute face and moves to sit beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He tugs her ears playfully and mutters something along the lines of her being a handful. 

“You’re not meant to talk with food in your mouth” She says, poking at his dimples. A smile creeps at the corner of his lips as he glances down at her, shaking his head.

Supper is in full swing, with chatting across the table and excitement for the upcoming event.

“Don’t be late tomorrow, Ellita” Sammie says, giving her a tight hug as he heads through the front door. 

“We’ll walk you back lil cousin” Elias and Elijah say simultaneously, Elias hangs his arm across Sammie’s shoulder.

Elijah whispers to Elias briefly before turning to Ellita .

“Make sure you was-“

“I know, I know. I’ll do them dishes” She mutters, carrying the plates and tableware to the sink. She speeds through the cookery, Pa helps her dry before departing just in time for the twins to return. By the time she is done wiping down the table and sweeping the area, the twins are back smelling like ash and a pungent trail of carbon. 

“Pa’s not going to like that” She tells them “Y’all stink!”

“Shhh, go hang your blue gown on the line and wrap your hair tonight” Elias reminds her. She tends to forget and has to waste more time in the morning fixing it. The blue gown in question is only for special occasions, the material is quite delicate so she isn’t allowed to iron it. She places the rich cotton fabric beside the other linens Elijah has beside him. He has taken the mantle of iron-King. 

Ellita yawns quietly placing a kiss on the cheek of the twins and Pa too, walking sluggishly to her room. It’s been a long day.

‘Another day in the house of the lord, full of dancing merriment and love’ Ellita thinks to herself walking in with Pa and the twins. She takes her seat close to the front of the hall, looking around for her best friend in the whole wide world. In the midst of the choir team stood little Sammie Moore. His smile was a bright, dressed in clothing too pristine for such a young boy. He leads the team by humming a tune for the first gospel, the timbers of his melody are soothing and full of vigor.

“He is such an old soul” Ellita whispers to herself, eyes twinkling with a smile.

“Yes is his” Pa Moore agrees, she did not whisper as quiet as she thought. Watching from the pew, she beams joyously at Sammie as their eyes meet. He winks at her before turning to his older cousins and uncle with a nod. That simple gesture was how their friendship started when she joined the Moore family.

But as time flew by, they grew in different directions and slowly became just neighbors. Some friendships build a comfortable distance, no resentment or anguish at the lack of contact. That was the predicament for Ellita and Sammie. A decade had gone by with a few brief waves and idle greetings. The past memories of childhood together; running around and playing jest felt like a dream, 10 years could do that.

Ellita felt proud to call herself a Moore and joining in with the Sunday festivities… until she didn’t. She was more intrigued by the spiritually of their ancestors as opposed to the christian indoctrination of her youth. Over the years she followed elders to understand how plants, water and the environment are the keys to good fortune, success, love and safety. Luckily the existence of these teachings were welcome in the community. She had constant support from her brothers Elijah and Elias, who go by SmokeStack twins now and her Pa, but other members of the Moore family did not take kindly to her new growth. 

Mainly her Uncle.

Preacher Moore did not approve.

He held back on sharing his opinions, but his actions spoke louder than his words. From subtle ridicule during sermons about her practices to the disdain for Smoke and Stacks ‘new’ money despite their effort in helping the community. Ellita blames him for the rift of her friendship, Sammie had no choice but to follow in the footsteps of his father and join the church as a full time trade. Although she was allowed to attend the sermons, she opted out as soon as Pa dead not long after Stack and Smoke left for Chicago. The longing for the rich timber melodic sounds that escapes Sammie’s voice still call out to her. Sometimes she would listen to him singing next-door and smiles at the now baritone harmony of his vocal cords. Her time was well spent, at 21 she had a learnt more than others her age and picked up skills which were slowly dying off with the elders. Ellita followed the footsteps of her brothers and travelling through many neighboring towns and communities to expand her knowledge on various practices; the art of fertility, health, beauty and divinity. She had taken the mantle as Healer of their community, providing advice and herbs to women and men alike.

Smoke and Stack encouraged her pursuit, seeing her gift and drive for all things natural and close to earth. So they built her a generous log-cabin close to the river where she could grow, forage and cultivate all components used in her craft. Whenever the twins returned from their trip, they would kick back and relax in the scenic surroundings of pine tress and a build a fire under the stars sharing stories of Chicago. 

———

Looking up at the sky, Ellita reads the curve of the moon with a look of anticipation and warmth.

“The full moon is approaching” She states softly. 

She began to prepare herself, there were tasks to do in order to remain inline with the ancestors and express gratitude to the elders who created this path for her. She gathers her pre-made oil of chamomile, sage and lemongrass extract, powder from grinded yucca glaccua and the cuttings from the bark of banisteriopsis caapi, her herbalist refers to it as the ‘soul vine’.

Taking note of the time, Ellita informs the town that tonight was her day off so she could re-center and prepare for the new month ahead. The message reaches neighboring communities too as well as their local parishes. She had written a letter to the twins a week ago, just in case they would be stopping by for their monthly visit. It was important that tranquillity of her cabin remains undisturbed to regain balance and focus of her emotions, ensuring that the sustenance provided to her community is pure.

With a shiny steel pail, coconut shell scoop and a luffa aegyptiaca, she strolls to the edge of the creek, where brown loamy earth meets the rushing stream of water. She heads back to the cabin to fetch her woven choctaw basket full of oils and powders, placing them beside the pail.

With a deep breath in, Ellita listens to the whispers of the wind brushing along the leaves, the crickets chirping and rush of water along the stones and pebbles.

“Isë” She chants tenderly. (Let it be so)

Stripping down from head to toe, she removes the silk hair tie freeing her luscious locks into its full afro state. The tendrils at the back of her scalp tickling her nape, the cloth that slides along her womanly curves comes next, a pink and red floral print fabric gifted to her by a seamstress.

Not too far away, Sammie is in a dilemma of his own. Clearing his mind after a heated conversation with his Pops, he takes a wander through the pine filled land far from the parish. 

“I'm gonna lay down my burden, down by the riverside. Down by the riverside, down by the riverside” He sings passionately. Sammie loves serenity of the outdoors the freedom, the fresh air, it helps create a sublime symphony that blends well with his acoustics. Approaching the riverbank, he sights a shapely figure adorned in an a satin-like material toes shuffling into the water. His eyes trail from her white painted toes to the smooth haunches of her calf, the rest of her covered by the fabric. Her exposed shoulder gleam under the pale moonlight as it shines brightly, a vibrant glow against her deep ebony supple skin. His breath hitches as he looks into the face of the goddess before him.

‘Ellita!’ His soul roars in elation.

His eyes locked on her turned back, Sammie gazes at her fingers as they reach up to her nape to untie the knot of the fabric. And there she stood. Free from the constraints of clothing, free as a school of fish in open water, just free. He remains where he stood, gazing at Ellita as she wades into the water stopping to turn and gather the basket sitting it on a boulder, her luffa floating on the surface of the water. His eyes are glued to her full bosom, nipple looking suckable and tight.

He cannot look away.

His palms are clammy, heart beating faster in fear of getting caught and lust for the woman whom he grew up with. ‘Pearline has nothing on her’, he thinks to himself.

He is in a dazed state at roundness of Elltias hips as she sways, like the water she scoops from the river. The liquid run through her hair, drenching it with moisture just as his feels his own leak from the tip. He rearranges his bulge, hoping to remain stealthily enough to walk away.

But his legs stay rooted in the earth below.

Ellita reaches over to her basket, derriere in the air and tear shape breast hung over the pail adding the soul vine in with the water. The liquid is crystal blue floating against the pebbles and stones of its own origin, unaltered by manmade chemicals.

 “Isë” She utters with thanks.

She submerges her body into the water, drenching every crevice and surface of her being. Before returning graceful above, dripping in fresh water. She senses a presence nearby but for some reason it has been  welcomed. It is not one that the ancestors or even herself are disturbed by. She hears the voice before she sees the lips that sign the melody;

“Wade in the water, Wade in the water children

Wade in the water, God’s got trouble the water”

“Sammie” she calls out in fondness, standing stark naked in the water as the day she was born. Their eyes meet just as it did whenever she sat along the front pews in church, him in the corner of the choir team. Ellita continues her practices as he winks at her, stepping closer to the edge of the river.

Generous applying yucca root powder across her neck, around her protruding chest, down her stomach and navel to the apex of her cooch.

Her eyes never leave his.

His eyes stay connected to her own.

Spreading her legs, she dips between her thighs, cleansing her folds with a mewl. Then down to her knees and her ankles. Turning her back, she bends over sultry to scoop water from the pail. Sammie grunts.

“Mmh-mmh, Mmh-mmh

God's gonna trouble the water”

A tremor is felt at the vibration of his voice, she rinses the lather and turns to face him. Her desire is visible as the hairs on her neck stiffen, nipples taut and the flutter in her fanny as he leers along her form

“Whatcha doin’ round here lil Sammie?” She asks.

“Ain’t no little Sammie here Ellita” He replies, leaning against the pine tree.

“I can see that…” Her eyes glancing at the fitted curve of his corduroys. 

“10 years later and you’re still a handful”

“More like two handfuls” She states with wit, rubbing the oil along her thighs and rear massaging the scent into her skin.

Sammie raising an eyebrow in curiosity, reading her eyes. There’s a subtle look of uncertainty but that fades to yearning as she closes her lashes and tilts her head back. With her back arched, Sammie peers down at smooth curls that hide her lips.

“You know I missed ya, right?” He admits “Don’t like that we drifted apart”

She doesn’t acknowledge him.

“Whatcha doin’ round here Sammie?” She asks again, firmly

“You becoming just as tough as Smoke” He mutters, eye locked on her oiled dripping skin.

Ellita lets out a breath, calming herself before continuing.

“Today’s my day off, no-one meant to be round here boy” she says sassily

“Now that’s the Ellita I remember, cheeky” he says, flashing a smile while inching towards her.

“You been watching me for a while huh?”

“Damn right”

“Wanna to join?”Ellita purrs

He blinks as if to snap out of a trance, reaching down to slips off his dress shoes and socks.

“Mmh-mmh, Mmh-mmh, God's gonna trouble the water” He sings eagerly as the rest of his clothes fall to the ground. 

A/n: Currently drafting part 2!! 

[freshllamapeace]

Interview x Sinner

If I were to write an interview with the vampire x Sinner fanfic would I go with the more rule heavy movie Sinners or with the very lax we are what we are Interview with the vampire?

I could also be like Remmick is a weak/ less powerful vampire but thats not as fun. I dont know advice?