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spencersmopbucket · 4 days ago

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With the Devil | Remmick

Pairing: Remmick x Reader Summary: Mama and Daddy had always taught you not to let evil into your mind — but they'd never taught you how not to fall in love with the devil.

Themes & Warnings: corruption, smut, oral (fem receiving), mentions of religion, vampire:))))))

IDC REMMICK IS SO HOT

You were perfect. That's what Mama always told you — you'd had it ingrained into your mind since you were just a baby. You were beautiful, you were kind, you were faithful.

Your Mama was a medicine woman. Your daddy was the town preacher. And you, their little girl, were the most eligible bachelorette in the town of Clarksdale. Your wild, curly hair was always pinned back, nails always painted, lips always glossed. You dressed cleanly and modestly. Your dark, unmarred skin was luminous and moisturized, allowing you a glow that was incomparable to any other girl your age.

You were never late to school. You never spent too much time talking to the boys. You prayed every night, stocking-clad knees on the wood floor, whispering softly.

You always imagined, with the help of your parents, a husband. Firm and kind, with a straight white smile and clean hands. A businessman, maybe. A man that frequented church. Nothing like them dogs every other woman raved about.

The thought of them made you scoff.

When you thought of marriage, you thought of what your Mama and Daddy had coached you.

Until you met him.

Your undoing. Your downfall. Your sin.

You saw him first on a Thursday. The air was heavy with summer and sin — one of those Mississippi nights that made the cotton stick to your skin and the devil’s whisper easier to hear. The juke was loud, pulsing with laughter and music you weren’t allowed to dance to. But you stood just outside it, waiting for your older friend to finish flirting with the barkeep, your Bible clutched to your chest like armor.

That’s when you felt it. Not saw — felt. A presence. Ancient. Unholy. Beautiful. Dangerous, above all else.

He was leaning against the fence, dressed like a man who had nowhere to be and no one to answer to. A shirt too fine for the Delta heat. Eyes that glowed red beneath the brim of a black hat. And a grin — slow and sharp — like he knew exactly how you’d taste when you broke.

He didn’t belong in Clarksdale — not with the dust of this town on his boots, not with the way his eyes burned like coals under moonlight. And yet, he leaned there like he’d been born of the very land, like the shadows curled around his boots to rest.

His gaze slid to you. Slow. Deliberate.

“Evenin’, dove,” he said, his voice warm and rough, touched by that unmistakable lilt — like poetry slurred in whiskey. “Bit far from the chapel, aren’t ya?”

You clutched your Bible tighter, the leather cover slick against your palms. You were taught to fear the devil. No one told you he’d look at you like that. Like you were temptation.

“I’m waiting on someone,” you managed, your voice barely audible.

He smiled at that — not kindly. No. It was indulgent. Knowing.

“Oh, I can see that,” he said, pushing off the fence with the kind of lazy grace that made the air tighten. “Tell me, do all the good girls carry scripture like a shield?”

Your throat went dry. You opened your mouth — to quote something, maybe, to say something about God’s protection, or how you weren’t interested — but the words stuck. Because he was close now, and the scent of him was thick with smoke and cedar and something sweet beneath it all. Not perfume. Not cologne. Something unnatural. Something wrong.

“Relax,” he murmured, eyes trailing across your face like a caress. “Ain’t come to hurt you.”

You didn’t believe him. But you wanted to.

“Who are you?” you asked, breathless.

He touched the brim of his hat, the red in his eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

“Remmick.”

The name hit the air like a curse.

Your stomach sank. You’d heard it before. Old wives whispered it over boiling pots and under their breath in the graveyard. They said Remmick had danced with witches and kissed the mouths of holy women. Said he’d killed everyone in the Smokestack juke joint in 1932 and made an army of the dead. You'd always thought he was just a scary story, just a wives tale. He didn't exist. He couldn't.

Vampires weren't real.

Your mama once told you never to say his name aloud. That if you said it, he’d know. But you hadn’t said it. He had. And still — he looked at you like he’d known you your whole life.

Like he’d been waiting.

His smirk curled around his lips, like a snake up a vine.

"We'll see each other again, lovely dove. I swear it. Get home safe now." He said, his Irish brogue evident.

You didn’t move. Couldn’t. Your feet were rooted to the ground like the Magnolia trees your mama prayed under. The juke's laughter turned to static in your ears, the cicadas buzzed too loud, and the warm wind brushed past your dress like a warning.

Remmick tipped his hat a little lower, and just like that — he was gone.

Not walked away. Not turned and faded. Gone.

The air rushed back into your lungs, sharp and stinging, like it had been waiting too long to fill you. You looked around — no sign of him. Just the night, heavy and wet with the scent of honeysuckle and trouble.

Your older friend reappeared a few minutes later, giggling and smelling like bourbon, none the wiser. “You alright, sugar?” she asked, fanning herself. “You look like you seen a ghost.”

You shook your head. “N-no. I’m fine.” But you weren’t.

Because you walked home clutching that Bible like it could still save you — but your fingers trembled, and your mind reeled, and somewhere deep in your chest, your heart had started to ache.

And worse than that… A part of you hoped he really would come back.

You knew you were done for, just like you'd heard in all of the wives tales. Once Remmick chose you, it crept in like a secret, hushed words in the back of your mind. He slowly ate you alive until all that was left was sin.

The nights after that first meeting grew darker, heavier. You tried to hold onto what Mama and Daddy taught you — faith, purity, the promise of salvation — but every shadow seemed to whisper his name. Every breeze carried the ghost of his voice, low and honeyed, calling you closer.

You found yourself drawn to places you never would’ve dared before: the cracked sidewalks under flickering streetlamps, the edges of the cotton fields where the cicadas sang their mournful song. And always, there was that ache — a hunger that wasn’t just physical, but something deeper, darker.

Remmick’s presence slithered through your thoughts like a poison and a balm all at once. You were afraid, but you were enthralled. His sin was infectious, but it felt like home.

You didn’t want to admit it. But you were already his.

And with every secret moment stolen beneath the moon’s watchful gaze, the old you slipped away, unraveling like a thread in a worn quilt.

Mama’s prayers echoed in your mind, fragile and fading, as you whispered into the night:

“Lord, save me…” But even as the words left your lips, you knew.

You were lost. And loving every breath of it.

The next time you saw Remmick, you were lying in bed. This night was worse than the others — you couldn't sleep. It evaded you. You sweat into your sheets, twisted around your legs as you tossed and turned.

You could feel him. Inside of you. In your chest, in your head, calling out to you.

Your heart hammered like a drumbeat in the quiet dark, matching the rhythm of the whisper curling through your thoughts. You dared not speak his name aloud — Mama’s warning still burned in your memory— but the pull was undeniable, a silent siren song that rooted you to the bed, torn between fear and craving.

Then, as if summoned by your unspoken plea, a shadow slipped through the cracked window, sliding across your room like liquid smoke. Remmick.

His eyes, red embers glowing softly in the moonlight, fixed on you with a hunger that was both fierce and gentle, like he was seeing through to the very soul you fought to protect.

“Restless, dove?” He smirked in amusement. You straightened, your muscles tense under his gaze. You were scared, yes. But you couldn’t ignore the creeping satisfaction under your skin.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

He stepped closer to the bed, ancient hands running along your cotton sheets. You watched, biting your lip.

“Strugglin’ so hard to sleep. Because of me. Yet you won’t so much as whisper my name.” He said, his voice honey soaked. He was designed to be alluring. It’s how he caught his prey, how he claimed all those lives decades ago.

He leaned in closer, his frame casting a long shadow over your bed, his fingers ghosting over the sheets like he was memorizing the shape of your restlessness. The scent of him —earthy, metallic, something older than blood and fire — curled in your nose and made your breath hitch.

“You’re afraid that sayin’ it will make this real,” he murmured, voice low enough to pass for a dream. “But you know better, dove. This was real the moment I saw you. The moment you looked back.”

Your throat was dry, your heart pounding like a trapped bird inside your chest. You could still feel the weight of your Mama’s cross necklace at your collarbone, tucked beneath the lace of your nightdress. But even that holy pressure couldn’t stop the heat curling in your belly at his nearness.

Remmick’s lips quirked higher at your silence, his gaze dark with something ancient, possessive. “You keep prayin’,” he said, brushing the edge of your pillow, “but deep down, you don’t want to be saved.”

You flinched at the truth of it.

He laughed, soft and slow, like he’d just caught a fish on the line.

“There it is,” he whispered, kneeling beside your bed, his face inches from yours now. “That feeling in your guts… That’s not fear, is it?”

Your squeezed your eyes closed, laying back.

“Leave, devil.” You whispered back, holding onto the last few bits of restraint you had.

Remmick didn’t move.

He hovered there beside your bed, his breath brushing your cheek like the breeze before a storm, thick with static and promise.

“Now why would I do that,” he said softly, voice curling around the edges of your will, “when you called me here?”

Your eyes flew open.

“I didn’t—”

“Oh, but you did,” he interrupted, with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “Every night you twist in those sheets, whispering into the dark. Every time you dream of fire and teeth and touch. That’s a prayer too. Just not the kind your mama taught you.”

You turned your face away, jaw clenched, but your body betrayed you — heat rising, breath catching.

He leaned in closer, his voice a sinful hymn against your ear.

“Say my name,” he coaxed. “Just once. Let it taste your tongue. You’ll feel better. I promise.”

The devil’s hand rested just beside your head, not quite touching you — but you swore you could feel the chill of it down to your bones.

And God help you…

You wanted to.

His voice was velvet-drenched sin, a low murmur that made the air around you hum.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered again, and this time, there was something darker in it — not just coaxing, but claiming. His fingers finally brushed your cheek, light as a ghost, burning like a brand. “Let me in. Say my name, hm?”

You should’ve screamed. You should’ve prayed.

Instead, you turned your head back toward him, lips parted, breath trembling. Your soul stood on the edge of something vast and terrible — but it didn’t want to step back.

“Remmick,” you breathed, soft as a confession.

The effect was immediate.

His smile deepened into something hungry, almost reverent. Like he’d waited a century just to hear your voice say it.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured, dragging the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. “Took you long enough.”

And with that, the last of your restraint crumbled — and the devil stepped through the door you’d just opened.

Before you could second-guess yourself, his lips crashed against yours.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was desperate, searing, like a man starved of something he’d been craving for far too long. His hand slid into your hair, fingers curling tight as he pulled you closer, devouring every soft sound that left your throat. His mouth tasted like smoke and blood and something impossibly sweet. Something addictive.

Your body arched before you even realized it, your hands clinging to the front of his shirt, as if you could tether yourself to the storm he brought with him.

He groaned into the kiss, a low, guttural sound that rumbled from his chest, and the bed creaked beneath his weight as he pushed closer. His other hand found your waist, dragging you against him like he had every right to.

“Good, good girl,” he rasped, voice thick with satisfaction as his thumb brushed the corner of your kiss-swollen mouth. His eyes burned like embers in the dark. “Mine now.”

His grip on your waist tightened, possessive, unyielding — not cruel, but claiming. Worshipful in a way that felt far more dangerous than hate ever could.

“No god can take you back.”

The words slithered into your soul, final and eternal. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t pray. You didn’t run.

Because in that moment — half-wrapped in cotton sheets and sin, heart thudding in time with the devil’s touch — you knew he was right.

You belonged to him.

And you didn’t want to be saved.

His hand quickly found your nightgown, and before you knew it:

Riiiip.

You wore nothing underneath. Your body was exposed to him completely, glistening with the sweat of a sleepless night, the slight fear he induced, the anticipation. His eyes traced your body predatorily, his tongue swiping his lip.

He hovered above you, gaze searing as it drank in every inch of bare skin, your breath shallow beneath him. The heat between you was suffocating — not just from the summer air, but from the charged silence, the pull of something ancient and forbidden threading itself through every heartbeat.

“Look at you,” Remmick murmured, voice low and reverent, almost mocking in its tenderness. “Waitin’ for me. Not a prayer in that pretty little head. What would Mama and Daddy think? Hm?”

He grinned as he said it, knowing the answer didn’t matter. His fingers ghosted over your collarbone, then lower, savoring the way you trembled — not just from fear, but from surrender.

“You were their pride,” he went on, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Now look at you… Writhin’ in sin for the devil himself.”

Your breath hitched, shame and desire tangling somewhere deep in your chest. His name nearly slipped from your lips again, and he heard it — felt it — in the way your body arched, in the pulse pounding at your throat.

Remmick chuckled darkly. “Good girl.”

His voice was velvet, soaked in smoke.

“‘S alright. I’m gonna make it all better now,” Remmick purred, his accent curling around the words like smoke.

His hand slid behind your neck, tilting your head gently, like you were something delicate — precious, even. His touch was warm, reverent, wicked. Everything about him was temptation draped in silk and shadow.

His mouth was hot — too hot — like the kiss of summer lightning right before a storm breaks. Wet, slow, deliberate. He mouthed at the base of your throat, then dragged his lips to your pulse, leaving kisses that were more like claims than affection. Another. Then another. Each one messier, hungrier, until your skin buzzed beneath the heat of him, your breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.

“What a pretty noise, baby. Keep ’em comin’,” Remmick murmured, his voice curling around your ear like smoke, smug and sinful.

His mouth never left your skin and he chased every sound you made like it was his favorite hymn, each whimper and gasp a confession. His fingers gripped your hips with just enough pressure to remind you who was in control, and his teeth scraped lightly at your throat, not biting — not yet — just warning.

“Don’t hold back on me now,” he rasped, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I want all of it. Every sound you’ve been too good to make. Every little song you swallowed when it was just you and your fingers at night.”

Your breath hitched, caught between the need to resist and the desperate want to surrender. His words wrapped around you like a dark lullaby, drawing out every hidden desire you thought you’d buried deep.

“Remmick..” you moaned.

His smile deepened, sharp and possessive. “That’s it, baby. Say my name like you mean it.”

His fingers traveled towards where you burned the brightest, where his attention was most needed. You whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily, exposing all the sinful thoughts that hid themselves so far back in your mind.

His thumb traced the wet folds. You gasped.

“There, there. I’ve gotcha.”

You could’ve cried as he sunk down on the bed, pulling your sticky thighs apart. He licked his lips, looking at the glistening scene between your legs.

“Gonna ruin you. And yer gonna thank me, sweet girl.”

You shivered under his touch, every nerve in your body accepting its fate. You no longer wanted to resist. There wasn’t an inkling of it. The devil had claimed you.

And you were already his willing captive.

His tongue met your pussy, licking a warm, wet stripe onto the center. You mewled, your legs involuntarily closing, but he forced them back open with a dark, warning look.

He leaned back in again, wrapping his lips around your needy bud, lapping it with his tongue and then sucking. You moaned, your hand on autopilot, coming down to wrap each finger into his thick, messy hair.

“Remmick!”

You felt him literally grin into your cunt, releasing a lewd sound as he slurped another firm suck, making you twitch.

His tongue worked wonders, exploring every fold, tracing every contour. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he worked, lewd, wet sounds filling your room.

He came back off, his mouth glistening.

“Where’s your God now? This pretty pussy has never belonged to anyone but Remmick. It always has.”

With that, he gathered spit into his mouth, dropping it onto your drenched cunt. Using his tongue, he spread the warm substance around, painting your pussy with saliva.

Then, he delivered the crushing blow.

One more suck on your clit, giving you just enough pressure.

Your back arched, stars filled your vision, and you let out a languid moan. He chuckled into your cunt, letting you ride his face all the way through your orgasm.

When he was done, he pulled away. A string of spit and cum pulled away with him. He wiped it with his hand, sucking it from his fingers in a sinful show.

You laid, exhausted, chest heaving. You’d never experienced something like that before. You’d cum, yes, the only thing about your life you’d hidden from your parents. But it was never like that. Never that electric. And for once, you didn’t even feel guilty.

Remmick was growing on you.

Sensing your exhaustion, he hummed. “I haven’t much time ‘til sunrise, dove. But I’ll let ya get a peaceful sleep for a moment.”

He laid down next to you. You froze at first, confusion written on your face. But as if he had calming powers, you eased almost immediately, his scent filling your nose and his presence melting your fear away. This wasn’t normal. This was adjustment to sin. Adjustment to the devil. But you couldn’t much care right now.

Remmick shifted closer, his hand sliding beneath the sheets to rest just above your hip, possessive and protective all at once. You shouldn’t have felt safe — not in the arms of something whispered about in church warnings and graveyard stories — but you did. Terrifyingly so.

His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, and you let yourself match it. He wasn’t human. He wasn’t righteous. He wasn’t even good.

But he was yours now.

His words dripped like warm molasses in your ear, thick and saccharine, laced with something darker.

“Waited for ya for ages. Decades,” Remmick whispered, curling around you like smoke, his fingers tracing invisible promises along your spine. “A beautiful bride, you’ll make.”

You shivered, not from fear — not anymore — but from something ancient stirring in your bones. Something that recognized him. Something that belonged to him.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

But you didn’t pull away.

“Sleep. I won’t be here when ya wake, but.. when night falls, you can always call my name.”

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risingoftime · 17 days ago

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TWO STEP TRAP | SMOKE STACK TWINS X F!READER |

You are one of the best dancers at the Midnight Blues joint in Chicago; it was only a matter of time before you encountered the Smoke Stack Twins. Their names linger in the club like perfume and cigars. If you are in the scene, you know them… and of course, they knew you.

contains: 18+ mdni, prequel to sinners, dancer!reader, porn with plot, smut, oral (Stack is a eater), threesome, p in v, pet names, man handling, body worshipping?? talking you through it, fingering, fucking two bad bitches at the same damn time.

You picked up your pace as you looked down at the watch on your wrist. It was nearly ten pm, and Marcus would threaten to lock your ass out if you didn’t arrive on time. He knew better though, you were the one that everyone came to see. Word spread quickly in the streets of Chicago, but there’s a place folks whisper about but rarely name out loud for fear of the White man hearing. It ain’t on any map called The Last Two Step, but if you know the right knock and carry enough heartbreak in your shoes, it’ll guide you behind an unmarked door at the edge of South Parkway Boulevard. In the joint, velvet smoke curls through the air, and every note from Ambrose’s piano drips slow and sticky, like honey off a blade. The Last Two Step is where time forgets itself in the sway of hips and the clink of glasses filled with bourbon. Nobody stumbles in by accident. If you find yourself there, something or someone wanted you to. And once you cross that threshold, baby, the night decides what happens next.

At the corner of your eye, you could see a slightly older, light-skinned woman shimmying her body down the alley to the hidden doorway of the club. “Miss Felicity! Wait up & hold the door, will you?” You hollered. Her head whipped to look behind her in alarm, but her glare softened once she saw you quickly following after her. She laughed at you as you tried to steady your breath.

“When will you learn your lesson and stop rushing at the last minute?” Felicity shook her head as you hurried inside and double-checked to see if anyone followed after y'all.

You flashed her a grin and said, “Probably right after you stop pretending you don’t love the thrill. Chaos builds character. Have you ever heard that?”

“Girl, you’re practically asking for trouble,” she muttered. Ambrose and the boys were still setting up the stage and tuning their instruments when you passed the wooden dance floor towards the changerooms in the back. Their eyes tracked the way you walked and paused to sneak a peek at your backside when they thought you wouldn’t notice. They were never slick enough to avoid getting caught. “Y’all are no better than little boys!” Felicity swatted at them as she climbed onto the stage and straightened her skirt. Felicity’s voice carried throughout the establishment even when she wasn’t singing and harmonizing with the band.

“Can’t blame us for admiring!” one of them defended.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed into the changeroom, more like a storage closet the dancers used to store their things and prepare for the night. Soon enough, the floor out there would be packed with sweaty bodies, hungry eyes, and a swanky beat that was hard to resist. And you? You’d be right in the middle, moving like a snake, soaking up the spotlight like it was poured just for you. Showing off your sultry moves, enticing the eyes of whoever looked upon you.

You weren’t just entertainment. You were a magnet. Marcus, the owner, knew it too. He would give you some of the shares to keep the crowd thick and thirsty, which is why he called you “eye candy.” A walking advertisement, you were good publicity for his juke joint. The three other girls in the room with you, Jacqueline, Deborah, and Ann, had the same deal. They didn’t care for me much, never had been. You drew too much attention, and it didn’t help that you didn’t come from the same background as them. You were the daughter of sharecroppers or “cotton pickers,” they say. Your skin was dark and smooth, shimmering in the light and under sweat. Your full lips, tantalizing gaze, and body that bloomed too fast for your age made you all the more unforgettable. Slim, sultry, and curved just right were the words used to describe her.

Looking into the handheld mirror as you finished the last touches to your makeup, you could see Marcus in the corner of your eye. “Baby, I ain’t paying you to doll yourself up and hide away!” His tone was playful, but there was an edge to his voice, and you knew that if you said the wrong thing, Marcus’ temper would appear. That is probably why he still ain’t been able to keep a woman. He’s only truly satisfied when he's drunk.

“Geez, what’s the hurry?” you whined as you hiked up your skirt higher to show more of your bare legs and patted down any stray hairs on your head from the finger curls.

“I gotta handle some business with the twins. Show ’em this is the kinda spot they wanna put their money in,” Marcus said, smoothing down his vest with a wink. The mention of the twins made your ears perk up. Smoke & Stack weren’t just names; they were similar to legends, stitched into the underbelly of Chicago. You didn’t just meet the Smoke Stack twins, you survived an encounter with them. If they were sniffing around Marcus’s place, it meant money was about to flow, and trouble wasn’t too far behind.

The music thrummed through your body and travelled to your chest as you allowed yourself to get lost in the rhythm and blues. All around you, a sea of Black bodies moved as one to the voice of Felicity and Ambrose’s band. In the night, they became a living and breathing entity under the heavy and melliferous air of the juke joint. The outside world slipped away in this moment, and all that mattered was the here and now. This is why you always answered the call of The Last Two Step, chasing the high of being free and being a person who is looked up to and not down upon. So far, there were no signs of the twins, and Marcus was growing more antsy by the minute. He’s resorted to pouring you more alcohol than he could offer, anything to make the party look wild and enticing to anyone who came inside.

Anticipation is the sweetest form of torture, and when the identical twins strolled through the entrance, it seemed as though the room truly came alive. Your eyes met with one of them. It wasn’t easy to tell them apart. He flashed a crooked smile, revealing a set of grills over his canines and front teeth. You twirled lightly, letting your waist roll slowly and deliberately. A glance over your shoulder caught the twins approaching Marcus at the bar, who suddenly looked boyish beside their commanding, muscular forms. Marcus was tall, handsome, and fit, but the twins had a figure that only one could have achieved by working hard in the fields.

Jacqueline broke you out of your thoughts when she walked beside you, “If one of those twins so much as smiled my way, I'd be slippin' outta my panties without a second thought.” She looked at the group of men with hungry eyes, drinking them in. You couldn’t blame her, but you’d be damned if any of the other dancers got a taste of the twins before you did. If the rumours were true, the twins were hung like a horse and knew how to eat a girl out so well that she could start humming in colours she had never seen before.

You watched as Deborah and Jacqueline positioned themselves near the twins and got brutally ignored. Better them than you. It’s better that you learn what not to do through them than make a fool of yourself. Moments passed as you danced amongst the crowd, and the music began to slow into a two-step dance, and people began to couple off. Scanning the crowd, you could see a man making his way to you. He’s been ogling you for most of the night and didn’t look too rough. Shit, one dance won’t hurt, right? It’s not like it’ll be your first or last.

Mid-stride, one of the twins drawled, “Ease up, kid,” bumpin’ his shoulder with a grin. “I’ll take it from here, see?”

The young man screwed up his face, about to give the southern gentlemen a piece of his mind but thought better of it when he saw the twin flash him a crooked smile. Smoothing out his button-up shirt, the young man puffed out his chest and recovered quickly. “No worries, boss.” He gave me a once-over before nodding his head in dismissal. The unnamed twin didn’t even bother to turn his head to ensure he was gone before extending a hand in your direction.

“May I have this dance?” His smile revealed the notorious grill the twins were famous for, shining faintly in the dimly lit venue. You couldn’t recall whether it was Smoke or Stack who wore it. Ultimately, did it matter? You paused and accepted his hand. His warm, large, and calloused grip completely enveloped your hand. Aside from counting cash, your thoughts drifted to what else his fingers might be good at. He instantly pulled you in closer with ease. Your bodies were flush against each other, now chest to chest. You peered up at him.

“Well, I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?” You countered. The chuckle that left his throat vibrated throughout his whole body. It didn’t help that when you took a breath to calm your erratic heart, his cologne and natural fragrance evaded your senses. As the two of you fell into rhythm with the music, the thoughts running in your head were anything but holy. It was rare for a man to elicit such a response from you on the first encounter.

“A lady always has a choice,” he rebutted, voice like molasses slow drippin’ off a spoon.

“Who said I was a lady?” you challenged, chin tilted and your cheeks filled with heat. Once it slipped out of your mouth, there was no snatching it back. You've always been reckless with how words leapt past your lips without permission. He didn’t as much as blink at your question and didn’t smirk either. Just stepped in closer, real close, until the scent of smoke, cologne, and something else curled in your nose again. His thigh rose between your legs, stopping just shy of making contact with your center, enough to make your breath catch in your throat, dipping you down and pulling you back up in time with the strums of the guitar that played aloud.

“Then I reckon I ain’t gotta treat you like one,” he murmured, voice pitched low and dangerous, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I do like a woman who talks back.” You swore your knees might buckle right there. “S’wrong? Cat’s got your tongue?” he joked to lighten the obvious tension that grew quickly between you two. You could hear your heartbeat over the hum of the blues and chatter surrounding you. His thigh lingered, firm and deliberate, almost making you forget your damn name. But you weren’t going to let him have the upper hand. Not entirely.

Leaning in just a little, with parted lips and sharp eyes. “And what do they call you, stranger?” your voice came out strong and daring like you weren’t already trying to keep your head on straight.

He didn’t answer right away, dragging his gaze from your eyes to your lips, then down to the space between you that barely existed anymore. “They call me Stack,” he finally said, a slow smile began curling at the corner of his mouth. “But you can call me Elias Moore.” He said it like a promise as he lowered his deep red fedora hat, his eyes never leaving yours. His name hung in the air, impossible to ignore. The kind of name a woman didn’t forget, even if she wanted to. The Elias Stack Moore stood before you. Being his girl could open up more doors for you than you could count.

“Come on,” he drawled, his hand brushing the small of your back. “Dance floor’s gettin’ too damn crowded for what I got in mind.” You felt him guide you, firm but unhurried, through the sea of moving bodies, past the haze of cigar smoke and spilled bourbon. Nobody paid y’all any mind. Juke joints were built on secrets and sideway glances anyway.

The changeroom door creaked as he pushed it open with his shoulder. The low bulb above our heads flickered like it knew what was coming. Inside, it smelled like lavender powder and dust. The old velvet curtains were draped over crates, hiding booze and our valuables. The crooked mirror watched us from their respective corners. He closed the door behind you with a click that felt louder than it was.

He leaned against it for a beat, arms crossed, watching you like he was still deciding whether to kiss you or ruin you slowly. “Now,” Stack’s voice dropped to a sinful hush, “where were we?”

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. This boy must’ve lost his goddamn mind if he thought the two of you were going to get hot and heavy in this sorry excuse of a change room. You weren’t a lady, but you had class and respect, very little of it, but it was there nonetheless. The two of you stood in the quiet room, and the silence stretched thick with possibility. Stack pushed off the door and lazily strolled toward you like he had all the time in the world. His boots barely made a sound on the old wooden floors. Every inch he closed made your skin feel tighter.

“You always this quiet when you want something?” he asked. Stack stopped shy of touching you, his hands at his sides like he dared you to lean in first. The nerves in your body buzzed like a live wire. You were all too aware of how your desires practically had you ready to drop to your knees. But you kept your face unreadable, and it was your best defence. You’d been raised to survive men like Elias Stack Moore. The smooth talkers with heat behind their eyes and a storm tucked inside their smiles.

“Depends on what I want,” you finally said. “And whether it’s worth the noise.”

“Oh, I’m worth it,” he replied. Stack threw his hat on the dressing room counter to reveal his face. But I ain’t cheap.” You gave him a steady look up and down. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show a sliver of his skin. Everything he wore appeared nicely tailored to his physique, too.

“Neither am I,” you shot back.

Stack was now an inch away from your face, his warmth wrapped around you like steam off a kettle. His hand reached out, not to grasp nor to grope, but to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, rough fingers grazing your cheek like an invitation.

“Trust me, sugar, you keep carryin’ on as you do, and Chicago gon’ be hollerin’ your name louder than they ever did mine or my brother’s.”

“Well then,” you said, sliding your hand up his chest, fingers trailing the buttons of his shirt like you were counting sins, “guess it's a damn good thing I don't mind how my name sounds in another’s mouth.”

Shifting your hips just enough to make your intentions loud and clear without a single word more. Stack’s breath hitches just a little, but you caught it. You always did. You knew that taking it further would be a reckless mistake, but Lord, it’d feel like salvation. The end of a prolonged drought, giving in, would feel like the first rainfall. Wet, overwhelming, and too damn good to stop. Stack’s eyes told you he was ready to drown in it, and hell, you might just let him.

She didn't have to speak, just the slow roll of her hips were enough to knock the wind out of him. She knew how deep she could cut without drawing blood. His breath caught in his throat, bare and ragged. God help him. He wanted to ruin you in a way that leaves a mark and memory.

Stack knew better. He knew this would get messy. With a glance at your slicked thighs, Stack knew you'd provide no mercy.

Leaning in close, lips just shy of his ear. “Still quiet, Stack?” you whispered in a sweet and teasing voice. “I figured by now you'd know how to beg.” You loved turning his words and spinning them against him. His raw reactions were entertaining to see.

Stack’s jaw tightened, but his eyes didn't waver. “I don't beg, sugar,” his tone changed to a quiet and threatening one. “I take.”

You flashed him a wicked smile and hooked a finger around his belt buckle. “Then come take it.”

He didn't wait, with his hands on your waist, before you could exhale. His rough palms and fingers dug in as if he meant to claim something, or he already had.

“You sure about this?” He muttered against your neck, voice hoarse. Hot breath dragging over your skin. “Cause once I get started, I ain't stopping till I’ve wrung every drop outta yah.”

“Make good on allat talk,” you replied. That was all it took. Stack kissed you like he was desperate. Teeth and tongue felt like a little too much and not nearly enough. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed you up against the old brick wall, grinding against you with slow, punishing friction. His hands found the hem of your skirt, bunching it up, and slid a hand underneath with practiced ease.

“Fuck,” Stack groaned when he felt how soaked you already were. Two fingers slipped along your folds. “You tryna kill me, baby?”

“I ain't even started yet.”

He dropped to his knees like he'd been praying for the chance. Pulling your thighs apart and pushing your back against the cool wall. With a tongue hot and desperate, he licked up your pussy, groaning like you were his last meal. Your hand shot to his head, gripping tight, guiding him just as you liked it. He didn't need much. He was already lost in you. Every moan sounded like praise.

“That’s it,” you hissed, rocking yourself into his mouth. “Don’t fucking stop now.”

“I won’t,” Stack promised. Not until your legs were shaking, and his jaw was slick with you. Not until your pretty moans turned into curses and your body tried to escape, then pleasure only could chase you.

When he finally stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at you, a man completely undone. Stack spun you around like it was second nature, pressing you into the wall with one hand, pinning your wrists above your head. His belt clinked open behind you, the soft grating of his zipper loud in the stillness.

"You sure you can take it, girl?" he muttered. Looking back, you could see Stack grip his thick length in his hand, pumping it up and down before lining his dick against your soaked entrance, teasing but firm. "Ain't no holding back tonight."

“Give it to me like you mean it,” you snapped.

Stack slammed into you in one cunning and possessive thrust. You gasped when your forehead hit the brick. He didn't give you a second to adjust, just wrapped an arm around your waist and started working his hips in a relentless tempo. The room echoed with sounds of skin meeting skin, moans, and his low curses. His other hand found your clit, and began rubbing small circles to make you fall apart all over again.

“You feel that?” he panted in your ear with pride. “This pussy is mine.”

You cried out, eyes fluttering shut from ecstasy. “Stack… fuck—” was all you managed to get out before he began grinding himself deeper inside.

Your orgasm was intense and all-consuming, tearing a high pitched outcry to escape your lips as you clenched your walls around him. Stack’s thrusts began to be uneven and passionate as he chased his own high. And just when he was on the edge, body trembling, and his muscles taut against yours…

“Well, goddam!”

Both of your heads snapped to the door. Stack froze inside of you, jaw clenched, with wide eyes at the sight of his twin brother.

Smoke stood there, curtly closing the door behind him and leaning against the doorframe like he walked in on a business deal instead of his brother balls deep in another’s soul.

“I come lookin’ for Stack and come to find this.” He gestured between the two of you with an amused look. “Y’all ain't even had the decency to lock the door?”

“Get the fuck out, Smoke,” Stack sounded feral.

Smoke smirked in return, kissing his teeth. “Don’t let me interrupt,” his fingers slipped behind him to turn the lock on the door. “Finish where you left off.”

Stack didn’t pull out. He didn’t even make a move as Smoke’s laughter faded. His grip on your hips tightened like he was claiming you harder now that he’d been seen. He was practically primal, yet there was a hesitation, a shift between the three of you.

“Good. Thought I might stick around this time.”

“You got one fuckin’ second to turn around,” Stack growled, still buried inside you, his chest rising and falling against your back.

“Relax,” Smoke said, voice smooth as whiskey and twice as dangerous. “Ain’t here to fight. I just figured if you were gonna fuck her like you mean it. You’d also let her choose who she wants.”

You turned your head slowly, pulse thrumming like a drum. Smoke leaned in the doorway again, one brow raised, hunger in his eyes like he already knew the answer. Stack’s jaw flexed. His hands never left your skin.

“This ain’t a game, Smoke.”

“Never said it was.” His gaze dropped to where your bodies were still joined. “But I seen the way she looks at me, too. Don’t play like you didn’t notice.”

It was the truth, they were identical twins after all. The thought had crossed your mind if they were also the same down there. Smoke had always been the smoother one. The devil that smiled back at you when you flirted with danger. And now, with Stack buried deep and your body still trembling from the last orgasm, part of you wanted to see what it’d be like to be stretched between both of them.

It’s up to her,” Smoke said, you could hear the smile in his voice. “Ain’t it?” Stack didn’t speak. His silence was a storm ready to break.

You turned to face them both, hips still pushed back. You looked at Smoke through your eyelashes, and said, “You better double check that the door is locked this time.”

Smoke jiggled the door handle before focusing his sights on you, bent forward as if committing the sight to memory.

“ Such a pretty little thing,” he murmured. “Didn’t expect you to be so generous.”

Stack remained silent. He just thrust into you once, hard enough to make you gasp and grip the wall again.

“She ain’t yours,” Stack burst, but his voice lacked conviction. He knew what this was. I knew it wasn’t just about possession.

“Ain’t tryin’ to take her,” Smoke replied, stepping near.

His hands were on you before you could think, one sliding up the nape of your neck, the other tilting your chin to face him. He kissed you softly at first until you deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, feeling Stack start to move again behind you, his speed staggering with every second.

“And you’re just lettin’ him have all the fun?” he mumbled against your mouth.

Stack growled low in his throat. “You want a turn, Smoke? Take her mouth. But you better be sure she can handle both of us.”

“Oh, I can,” you whispered, drunk on the moment.

Smoke stepped out of his clothes, his dick already thick and ready. He guided you down to your knees with his hand. You opened your mouth, lips wrapping around him just as Stack banged back into you from behind.

The stretch of both was overwhelming, one in your mouth and one buried deep. Stack fucked you harder now, his hold bruising on your hips, while Smoke let you control the pace with your tongue until he lost his patience and started to thrust into your mouth.

“Look at you,” Smoke groaned. “Takin’ us both like it’s what you were made for.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you moaned around him, the vibrations making Smoke’s jaw clench. Stack was close, you could feel it in the way his rhythm stuttered and his breathing picked up.

“She’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” Stack gasped. “She’s gonna make me—fuck—” He pulled out just in time to spill across your back, thick ropes of cum marking your skin while Smoke slid out of your mouth and lifted your chin again.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” Smoke growled, hauling you into his arms like you weighed nothing. He laid you down flat on the velvet covered crates nearby, pushing your knees back and plunging into you with a groan. The angle was brutal and somehow filthier. His eyes locked on yours the whole time, making it impossible for you to look away.

Stack leaned nearby, watching, still catching his breath, chest slick with sweat.

“Don’t think she’s ever been full till tonight.” Smoke said between thrusts.

You cried out, the pressure building fast and hot, your nails scraping down Smoke’s back. He fucked you through it, didn’t stop even as your body shook and your thighs tried to close. You came again loudly and broken open for Smoke to finally bury himself and release inside you.

For a long moment, the only sound was your breath and heartbeat, all three of you covered in sweat and something that felt dangerously close to obsession. Then Stack muttered lowly, “This doesn't change shit.”

“Oh, it changes everything, brother.” Smoke chuckled, pulling out slowly, the evidence of what you had just done dripping down your thighs.

taglist: @marley1773 @iheartamora @childishgambinaax

➴ feel free to send me more thots

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willyoubemycherryy · 17 days ago

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No Guidance (Stack.M x R)

Summary: You’re just getting to the good part.

Contains: Flirting, some smut, Mary slander, cursing, everyone has a southern accent, platonic smoke with reader, a little dancing, MARY SLANDER, and I don’t care I don’t fucking like her, this is for the _ strictly for the _, kissing, making out, a hint of manhandling, established relationship, choking, allusions to sex and one brief flashback of some impact play, Michael B Jordan fine as hell, fine enough to bring me out of retirement

-There’s just not enough mindless smut of sinners, almost no x reader bc they’re all OC 😔 and please tell me how we feel about the daddy thing bc Stack screams daddy kink and in the next part👀…

A/N: act like I’ve been here the whole time.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢ ﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉୨♡୧﹉﹉﹉﹉

“Uh-uh. We not doin’ none of that. Not tonight. Get ta steppin’”.

You level a look at the pale woman standing in the doorway, raising an eyebrow when she crosses her arms- fixing you with a glare of her own. She really was lucky you 50 percent Christian- otherwise, you’d have turned her every way but inside out.

It was no surprise that Mary was there- given her history with Elias or “Stack”. Of course she’d come running the minute she heard he was back in town along with his brother and cousin…but running to where? Not up in here.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere cause I have business in there.” Mary points the loud crowded space behind you and you push your shoulder from off the side of the doorway. You knew all about Mary. You may have empathized a little with her but you damn sure didn’t like her. She was the past in a future that needed her gone in order to make it and her refusal in understanding that irked you immensely. To you, she was selfish- plain and simple.

“You also ‘bout to have a foot up yo ass because the only business in there is the one my man is tendin’ to and you can’t possibly be talkin’ ‘bout him?” You pose it like a question but you leave no room for debate in your voice.

She was there for Stack. She wasn’t getting Stack.

Your question was met with a scoff but otherwise silence. Mmhm. That’s what you thought. Stepping back, you get ready to close the door since you were not about to stand and argue with Mary all night; fixing her with the same ugly glare she always gives you before leaning down to whisper in her face,

“Go be a good bitch and find a new master or I’ll be the one to walk you.”

Slamming the door with a satisfied grin, you turn around to go find a friend of yours and ask her to watch the door. It took some convincing since she was the strict one out of your group but it had to be her because as much as you love the twins and trust their judgment (mostly), Cornbread could not be the one to watch the door the entire night. After agreeing that you’ll owe her one, you leave to grab a drink of your own and judging by the look on Smoke’s face as you pass him- you didn’t look happy.

“Ooh. Who did it?” He drawls out as his eyebrows draw together in a slight frown. He knew about his brother and Mary’s sordid past because of course he did but he also knew how you and Stack have been since day 1.

He still remembers the day they met you…barefoot and sass-mouthed serving drinks at your mommas little dive bar.

“Aww twins~ Wait-! don’t tell me! Y’all gots ta be Double and Trouble!” Laughing like a hyena until your mama threw a spoon from the kitchen and you ducked- smacking your teeth before hurrying off to get their liquor.

That was it.

A pretty young server and good malt..until they came back for another couple rounds one night and you were still barefoot but this time, you wasn’t serving no drinks. Instead, you were standing in the middle of the room singing with a voice so sweet and strong that it rang through their head for the rest of the night. Smoke saw an amazing gift. Stack had seen a gift and something more…

“Just some go-go flour ranger. Nobody important.” Damn. Smoke winces with a soft hum at the insult yet knowing exactly who you mean. You always were creative with your insults- never missing in hitting where it hurt. Taking a deep breath, the beat of the music temps up and he passes you your drink and you sip at it, nodding along to the music as you start to loosen up. Tonight wasn’t the night and neither were any of the others. Tonight was supposed to be the continuation of their new pages turning- and that meant the end of whatever beef was between you, Mary, and his brother.

Smoke watches you start to move and raises a brow; broad smile growing across his face, making his dimples pop out as something comes to him.

“You gon’ sing a lil sum’ for us?”

Reaching out, he takes your hand to twirl you with a soft grin and you let go afterwards to fake think for a bit. Sammy currently had the floor and he was doing great plus…you sorta had other plans for the night. Smoke huffs a laugh, noticing that glint in your eyes- the one you got when you were fixing to get a kick out of causing trouble.

“Ohh, I get it. You in a just dancin’ mood tonight, huh?”

You get another drink and finish that one quick before nodding slowly before moving closer with a grin.

“Smoke, y’know, I neva’ woulda pegged you as a dancin’ man but if you’re offering-“,

“Oh nah baby, he ain’t but I am.”

The low words are whispered against the shell of your ear with a heat that sends shivers licking up your spine. Big, familiar hands fit themselves on your shoulders while Stack dips his head lower to press soft, full lips against your throat- directly over your pulse point and your heart jumps; you barely holding back a gasp. You look at the space where Smoke had been standing before he made himself scarce with a lighthearted “don’t wear y’selves out” and try to gather yourself, turning in Stack’s arms to face him.

Lidded, mellow chocolate eyes focused on you with plump lips pulled up in a smirk framed by dimples greet you and you roll your eyes. Shaking your head lightly as you swallow a whine.

There really was such thing as being too fine and Stack was proof. Strong hands glide themselves further down your sides, settling on the space just above your ass, never taking his eyes off yours and the intensity of him sparks something inside you.

“Been lookin’ for ya. Shoulda known yous’ somewhere in here causin’ trouble, hmm?”

It’s a lot warmer than you remember it being a couple minutes ago but no matter how deep you inhale, it doesn’t go away. That’s when you realize that the room hasn’t gotten any hotter than it’s already been.

But you have.

Your mouth barely opens to retort before Stack’s is covering it completely with his- slow, consuming and so deep. You truly can’t help the way you melt into him. Heart pounding with adrenaline and something much more tantalizing at the way Stack leads, plush lips firm against yours as you suckle at each others mouths. You only had two drinks but you already feel drunk; senses heightened and so sensitive that you’re borderline vibrating. Blood flowing through your system with a searing rush.

Stack harshly sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and your pulse drops like a boulder into the lava pooling in your lower stomach; sending waves ricocheting through your body before licking deep into your own just in time to muffle the nasty little moans threatening to slip out while his tongue memorizes every inch of your mouth and the pleasure has you on the way to out of your mind and he knows it.

You were unyielding to everyone and everything else except him and Stack used that to his advantage each and every time. He’d always been good at getting people to listen to him but the way you gave into him was the sweetest thing he’d come to know. From the way your doe eyes would get wide whenever he’d say or do something that set you off and you’d find yourself wanting him- to the way you were purring and sighing like a cat now, snuggling your soft pretty self tight against him while he devoured your mouth; lips smacking hungrily against yours.

By the time you two separate, his hand is a little too close to your throat and you suddenly want everyone to go home.

“Don’t be lookin’ at me like that baby. 'Else I might think we have a problem.” Stack drags his lips from the corner of your lips to your cheek, rasping lowly into your ear and you whine in frustration, shifting in his hold.

“And what if we do?”

The hand that was at first only close to your neck, slides up to wrap around it. Loose enough but heavy like a collar and you go dizzy from how hard your cunt throbs, biting your swollen lip as you bat pretty lashes up at him.

Now, Stack learned early that you had a thing for sass-mouthing. You, learned quickly that Stack didn’t have much patience for being sass-mouthed. So if there was something you wanted from him, you learned the first time he spanked your ass raw while being stuffed with three of his thick fingers but nothing else- to ask for it real nice and polite. Your tone though, would be the death of you.

“Then I’m sure we can come to an agreement”, his hand squeezes quick before releasing as he presses another hard kiss to your lips, “Right baby?” You nod before you can stop yourself, body roaring with molten need and you blurt out,

“Tell everyone to go home.”

A surprised bark of laughter shoots from his chest and he raises an amused brow as he looks down at you.

“C’mon, you know I can’t. We just opened this place a few weeks ago, mamas. Gotta break it in.” You throw your head back with a groan, rolling your eyes as you mumble under your breath.

“Wish you’d break me in…”

“Huh?”

“What?”

You ask back just as fast and Stack whistles lowly, shaking his head before dragging you in by your throat so close that you’re standing between his legs. He drops his forehead against yours and just takes a couple seconds to look at you- breathe you in before he has you begging for the better half of the night.

“Nah, what was that?”

“What was what?” You could play dumb with the best of em. Grinning innocently like you had all the time in the world to play your games and Stack was all too ready to play with you. Especially when he knew he’d win.

“You gon’ make me get it outta you, pretty girl?”

Your heart skips a beat and he notices your eyes doing the thing when you answer:

“If you think you can then go ahead.”

Stack nods slowly, moving his hand off your throat to take your hand instead. Rising to his full height, he leads you up to the office of the joint, guiding you in first then closing the door behind you both with a click and makes his way towards you.

His stride reminds you a lot of a predator getting ready to jump on their prey and you only hope that you’re left shaking afterwards…

Part 2🫶🏽

-p.s. can y’all guess who’s next?

Another note- agree or disagree about Mary in the comments but be respectful to one another. I delete comments and block people so chill and type accordingly.

#sinners #sinners 2025 #sinners movie #sinners x reader #sinners smut #sinners stack #smoke and stack #stack x reader #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x reader #elias moore x reader #elias moore #elias stack moore #elias stack moore x reader #stack smut

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eye-raq · 5 days ago

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Who gonna use Raven Tracy beautiful self as a face claim for 90s fic with Stack?

I nominate @uzumaki-rebellion

(Anybody can tap in)

#elias stack moore #elias stack #stack sinners #stack #sinners movie #sinners fanfiction #sinners fic #sinners #sinners smut #elias stack more x black!oc #michealbjordan #micheal b jordan #raven tracy

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gweelczz · 17 days ago

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“Talking you through it”

Sinners men x their women

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: none

Summary: The men from sinners talk their women through it

Bo Chow: The room was dim, the only light spillin’ in from the window—gold and warm, just like the Delta sun had kissed its last goodbye for the day. The air was still, thick with heat and something unspoken. Rosetta lay back against the worn quilt, chest rising and falling slow, her golden eyes never leavin’ Bo.

He was above her, shirt long gone, his calloused hands cradlin’ her hips like they were something holy.

“You alright, baby?” he asked, voice low, Southern drawl slidin’ over her like silk.

Rosetta nodded, breath already catchin’. “Mhm.”

Bo leaned down, pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, then that soft skin below her jaw. “I got you. Just feel, alright? Don’t think. Let me take care of you.”

She let out a breathy hum, one hand slidin’ up to bury itself in his thick black hair.

He moved slow, patient—like he had all the time in the world and nothin’ else to worship but her. His lips brushed down her neck, over the curve of her chest, his voice steady in her ear.

“Look at you, Rose… so beautiful like this. Soft. Open. All mine.”

She whimpered, her hips liftin’ ever so slightly, beggin’ without words.

“I know, baby. I know what you need,” he murmured, hand slidin’ between her thighs, the other still holdin’ her hip firm, keepin’ her grounded.

Her breath hitched as his fingers moved slow, teasing, coaxin’ her open, coaxin’ her deeper into herself.

“Shh… that’s it,” he whispered. “You don’t gotta do nothin’. Just let go. Let me hear you.”

Rosetta’s head tipped back, her hand tightenin’ in his hair, body tremblin’ under his touch.

Bo kissed her collarbone, murmurin’ against her skin, “You feel how perfect you are? How good you are for me?”

“Bo… oh, God,” she gasped, her voice crackin’ as her thighs began to tremble.

“Nah, baby,” he said gently, smilin’ against her throat. “Ain’t no God right now but you.”

He stayed with her, movin’ in rhythm with her breath, her cries, the way her body writhed beneath his. Every sound she made, every broken whisper, only spurred him on—soothing her when it got too much, pushin’ her when she tried to hold back.

“That’s it, baby… you’re right there. Don’t fight it.”

Rosetta’s back arched, her mouth fallin’ open, and Bo caught her with his lips, kissin’ her deep as the wave crashed through her. Her whole body shook, her hands clingin’ to him like he was the only thing tetherin’ her to the earth.

He didn’t stop holdin’ her. Didn’t stop whisperin’ to her.

“You’re safe. I got you. I’m right here, Rose… always.”

She collapsed into his arms, heart poundin’, body limp, tears slidin’ from the corners of her eyes. He kissed them away, murmurin’ love in every language he knew.

“I love you,” she whispered, voice barely a breath.

Bo kissed her again, deep and slow. “I know, baby. I love you more.”

Sammie ‘Preacher boy’ Moore: The night air curled lazy through the cracked window, warm and thick like molasses. The juke joint had long gone quiet, the world outside slowin’ to a hush. But in that little bedroom Sugar’s granddaddy left her, all was heat and breath and closeness.

Sammie hovered over her, his body flush with hers, their skin slick with sweat, their hearts beatin’ like drums caught in rhythm. He had her wrapped up in his arms like she was the most precious thing he ever held, his lips brushing her temple, his breath steady in her ear.

“Breathe, Sugar,” he murmured low, voice all velvet and gravel. “Don’t fight it now… just let it come. I got you.”

She whimpered beneath him, her fingers curlin’ in the sheets, back archin’ just so, and Sammie’s hand found hers — laced their fingers together like a prayer.

“There you go,” he whispered, kissin’ her cheek, her jaw, her throat. “That’s it, baby. You feel that? That’s me… That’s love, Sugar. That’s every bit of me I ever had to give.”

Her breath hitched, tremblin’ against his chest, and Sammie smiled, soft and reverent, like he was watchin’ a miracle unfold. His voice stayed with her, coaxin’, guidin’, groundin’ her.

“You doin’ so good, girl,” he hummed, voice thick and slow, like a hymn. “Ain’t nobody ever made me feel like you do. Ain’t never wanted to give myself to nobody but you.”

She gasped, her hands grippin’ his back, and Sammie held her through it, strong and gentle.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he breathed, kissin’ her again, firmer this time. “Come on now, ride it out, I ain’t goin’ nowhere. You safe with me, always.”

By the time her body settled, all soft and spent and glowin’, Sammie was still holdin’ her like he never planned to let go.

And he didn’t.

He pressed his forehead to hers, thumb sweepin’ tender over her cheek, and whispered, “That’s the kind of love they write gospel songs about, Sugar. The kind I’ll spend my whole life praisin’.”

Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore: The room was bathed in the soft gold of the bedside lamp, shadows dancing across the walls as the baby slept peacefully in the bassinet nearby. Smoke’s touch was slow, reverent—like every inch of Honey’s skin was something holy.

“You sure you alright, mama?” he asked low against her neck, his breath warm, hands steady as they slid up her thighs.

Honey nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “I missed you…”

That was all he needed. He moved with care, not in any rush. It wasn’t just about the heat—it was about her. About making her feel like the goddess she was. Like the woman who gave him the most beautiful thing he’d ever known.

“You just breathe for me,” Smoke murmured, kissing the soft swell of her belly, then moving higher. “Ain’t gotta do nothin’ but feel.”

His fingers found her slowly, easing in, coaxing her open like a prayer. Her body responded with a shiver, hips lifting instinctively.

“That’s it,” he whispered, watching her, voice thick with love and want. “Just like that, baby. You ain’t gotta hold nothin’ back.”

Honey whimpered, her hand grasping the sheet, eyes fluttering closed. Smoke pressed a kiss to her temple.

“I got you. Let go. You know I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

She trembled under his touch, her breath catching as he kept whispering to her, voice dark and sweet like molasses. “You feel that, Betty? That’s all you, baby. That’s your body rememberin’ how good it feel to be worshiped.”

Her breath hitched, thighs tensing. He slowed just enough to keep her on the edge, his lips brushing her ear.

“Let it happen, mama. You safe. I got you—always.”

When it finally washed over her, she melted into his chest with a soft cry, heart racing, body trembling. Smoke held her tight, brushing damp curls from her face, kissing her forehead.

“There she go,” he whispered, pride and love thick in his voice. “My beautiful girl.”

And in the quiet that followed, their baby still asleep beside them, Smoke just held her—like he always would.

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore: Stack’s voice was low, rough with desire, and full of assurance. “Breathe, baby,” he murmured, his hands steady as they traced the curve of her body. “I got you. Let go.”

Honey’s breath quickened, the heat between them intensifying, every touch pulling her closer to the edge. She clenched around him, the pressure building, and she gasped.

“That’s it,” Stack encouraged, his grip tightening, guiding her movements. “Feel it, let it build.” His words were like a tether, pulling her deeper into the moment. “You’re mine now, Honey. Let me hear you.”

Her body trembled, the wave crashing over her in a flood of sensation. She cried out his name, her hands gripping him as she let herself go completely.

Stack leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. “Good girl,” he whispered. “That’s my sweet girl.”

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solastarr · 21 days ago

Text

Ms.NotSoIndependent

Stack Moore(Sinners2025)x black reader:

Genre: smut with very little angst

Summary: once stack comes from chicago. he realizes how independent you've become and the tension you have towards him

Preview: “I knew you’d be mad... but you been treatin’ me like I'm just any other normal ass nigga. Like I don’t mean nothin’ to you,” he said, squatting in front of you so you were eye level.“Obviously, you forgot who the fuck I am... so let me remind you real quick.”

Word count: 1,192

Warning: the content with in this story contains sexual themes of aggressive conversations, fingering, smut, cunnilingus

It had been about two weeks since Stack came back into town after he and his brother's unannounced trip. He returned thinking the same sweet, charismatic, and loving girl he left behind would greet him with hugs and kisses. Instead, he was met with a cold, nonchalant, and independent woman who wouldn’t even give him a passing glance.

He knew leaving without telling you was wrong, so he had been trying to make up for it by helping you reach dishes on the top shelf, fixing the leaky sink, even offering to carry your groceries home. But every time, he was either ignored, brushed off, or straight-up told you didn’t need his help. Stack had been trying to keep his cool, hoping you’d eventually break out of this bratty phase. But today... you pushed him too far. And he snapped.

You were already having a rough day. The chores around the house stacked up as high as the dishes in the sink. Your mood was on edge when Stack decided to stop by.

“What you got planned for today?” he asked, trying to start a conversation.

You didn’t even bother responding to the man whose voice irritated you every time he spoke.

“Okay… still being a brat,” he mumbled under his breath. You turned around and shot him the dirtiest look you could manage.

Leaning lazily against a chair in the kitchen, he stayed unfazed. “Me and my brother are having the grand opening of the juke joint tonight. I want you there for me.”You immediately responded, almost cutting him off, “Not interested. I got too much to do around the house anyway.” You went back to scrubbing the dishes without giving him another look. Stack took it as another chance to lend a hand. “Well, then let me help you. I really wa—”, “I don’t need your help, Stack!” you snapped, swinging around too fast. The dish in your hand slipped and shattered across the floor. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. You dropped to your knees to pick up the broken pieces carefully. “I don’t even know why you’re here. You left me. I’ve moved on. You need to do the same.”you said coldly.

Stack’s face dropped. His patience finally ran out. “You know I’ve been tryin’ to be nice to you,” he said lowly, the tension in the room thickening. The house grew suffocatingly silent.

Stack started walking toward you, the crunch of porcelain under his boots echoing off the walls.

“I knew you’d be mad... but you been treatin’ me like I'm just any other normal ass nigga. Like I don’t mean nothin’ to you,” he said, squatting in front of you so you were eye level.“Obviously, you forgot who the fuck I am... so let me remind you real quick.”

You stood up just as he did, trying to hold your ground.“I don’t know what the hell you talkin’ about.”He stepped forward, closing the space between you, backing you into the kitchen counter.You could feel the heat radiating off his body.“Boy, move,” you warned, trying to slip past him, but he grabbed your wrists, holding you in place. He leaned into your ear. “You forgot what it felt like when daddy was here to take care of you. But I'm back now... and I ain't goin’ nowhere.” His words made your breath hitch.

Your eyes scanned his face, trying to tell if he was serious. He started kissing down your neck, rubbing your curves, slowly lifting your dress. You gasped at the way his hands roamed, but you had longed for his touch for too long to push him away. “Stack... move,” you tried to protest, your voice trembling with hidden moans.His mouth found your sweet spot near your jawline, making your knees buckle. Stack noticed immediately, smirking against your skin.

“See? All that 'I don’t need you' bullshit...” he murmured. “But your body can’t lie to me, baby.”

You hated how your body betrayed you.But with Stack... you couldn’t even fight it.You barely registered being lifted onto the counter until you felt the cold countertop on your skin, making you gasp. Stack ran his hands up your thighs, giving small squeezes, reaching your panties.The rough pads of his fingers and his husky cologne made you melt.

He stopped, looking you directly in the eyes as he rubbed you through your panties.

Your moans slipped out despite yourself.He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, voice rough. He leaned closer, only inches away from your face.

“Tell me you want me to leave... and I'll go.”You wanted to slap him. Push him away. Cuss him out for the pain he caused when he left. But no words came out, only breathless moans. Because deep down, you didn’t want him to leave. And he knew it.

Stack smirked, feeling your surrender.

He ripped your panties off, slipping two fingers inside you, massaging your breast with his other hand.“I know you’re mad at me for leavin’,” he growled, “but daddy’s back now. And I’m gonna take real good care of you, okay?”He slowed the movement of his fingers to an agonizing pace, waiting for your answer.“O-Okay,” you finally whimpered out, desperate for him to keep going.

He chuckled lowly. “...Okay what?” he teased, stopping again.“Okay, Daddy!” you cried out. Proud, Stack laughed in your face, cocky as ever. “There’s my girl.”

He slipped his fingers out and pushed them into your mouth.You sucked eagerly, happy to have your man back. Then he kissed you, a long, heated kiss that felt like a lifetime of waiting poured into it. When he finally broke away, he stared at your swollen lips, the hickeys blooming on your neck, the sweat forming on your skin.“Let me take care of you. Make up for lost time.”

Stack dropped to his knees between your thighs, kissing you everywhere until he reached your pussy. Without hesitation, he started devouring you, like he had been starving for you.You almost lost control instantly, gripping the back of his head, moaning his name.When you started grinding against his face, chasing the high he was giving you, he locked eyes with you.The sight nearly pushed you over the edge. But just when you were about to cum, Stack abruptly pulled away.

“Wait—Stack, please,” you whined, desperate for more.

He smirked, standing up, adjusting his suit while your juices still coated his face.

“And you said you didn’t need me,” he teased. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small wad of cash and tucked it between your breasts, brushing your skin just enough to make you shiver. “Now go get you a new dress, shoes, and get pretty for me. Cause we're going dancing tonight” He kissed your lips one last time before heading to the front door.Before closing it behind him, he turned and shot you a wink with his signature smirk. You couldn’t help but smile, still aching for the touch you swore you didn’t need.

~ first post I hope yall like it!💫

#sinners smut #sinners #micheal b jordan #micheal b jordan fan fic #smoke and stack #stack sinners #stack smut #micheal b jordan smut #smut #black fanfic reader #black fanfic writer #stack moore #stack moore x reader #sinners fanfiction

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woodle-isbae · 7 days ago

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"Don't run from me now."

He pull you back by the waist, chuckling at how you whined from the fill he gave you. Stack had you bent over in a deep arch, screaming his name into the sheets of your bed.

"Oh c'mon now, ain't you the one that said–shit– you can take it?"

He groaned, slowing down his thrusts to get a better view of him dissapearing inside you, the thick ring of your juices rimmed around his base, some of it running down your shaking thighs.

"Mmm-fuck! Stack–waitt.!"

You tried grabbing at his hand to slow him down, only for him to grip at your wrist and use it as an anchor, pulling you slightly back to get a deeper arch and deeper range inside you.

"Allat' talk, look where that big mouth got you!"

He hissed out, grinding his hips oh so painfully against yours, managing to wrap his other hand right under you and rub at your clit, drunk on the way you clenched around him.

"Mnghf–fuuck! I'm gon' cum, Stack pleaseee!"

You cried out, body pushing right back against his in pursuit of your orgasm, the man above you only pressing his fingers down as he drew faster circles while drilling himself into you.

"I ain't stack 'round here baby, you know my name pretty."

It's cruel the way he had you right on edge, holding back from letting you burst–oh but you loved it, drooling into the pillow beneath your head from this.

"Mm..Elias—please, Elias!"

He groaned out, satisfied with the way his name was sung from your swollen lips, eyes rolling back as he gave a few weak thrusts. Your breathe caught in your throat before you broke out in curses and moans.

He had pulled out and layed next to your numb body, thumb rubbing at your shoulder after he presses delicate kisses.

Savoring the moment of his skin on yours and the intimacy of his embrace.

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innorality · 6 days ago

Note

If you’re taking requests!! I can’t stop thinking about Stack eating you out for the first time and you’re so nervous and flustered and he’s lovin that and rocks your world

NO BECAUSEEEEE

you told him you had never been eaten out before and he beams. suddenly he smirks like a bastard and approaches you slowly, backing you towards the bed. when your back hits the mattress, he's on you within seconds. he's kissing down your neck while slowly undressing you, his hands roaming around your body, taking in the way your skin is heating up with arousal.

he loves the way your hips squirm when his digits land on them, and then he's lowering himself slooowly, keeping eye contact.

when he licks a long first stripe up your slit, the tip of tongue flicking your clit, and his eyes almost roll back at the way you moan his name, begging for more. he knows you're flustered, embarrassed even, but he also knows that he loves making shit worse for you.

so he demands praises, asking you things along the lines of "you like that, baby?" and "right here?". he's pissing you off in the best way possible.

when he really digs in, fuck—you think you might faint. your back arches and your body twists like a snake, and gosh, he loves it.

your vision escapes you as your eyes roll back when his tongue penetrates you, wiggling inside you like it's eager to explore the new territory.

when you cum, he's swallowing like a man dying of thirst. licking up every drop of cum you squeeze out, rubbing your clit with his thumb to prolonge your orgasm.

he finally sits up, his mouth and chin covered in the evidence of your pleasure, and he's smiling. you almost got a cramp from how much you were twitching because of your blinding high, and he's fucking smiling.

he watches your chest rise up and down, and he licks his lips before opening his mouth.

"you wanna go again?"

yeah.

of course you do.

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 10 days ago

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The Hoodoo Apprentice

Summary: Amelia packed her things and took a train to Clarksdale Mississippi to reunite with an old friend, Annie. Annie promised she’d teach Amelia the art of Hoodoo. After a month, Smoke and Stack return with a plan to open a Juke Joint.

Warnings: SMUT

Part Two

Elijah ‘Smokes’ truck rolled to a stop. He cut the engine, taking a moment to finish his cigarette before he entered the home he shared with Annie. He could smell her cooking from where he sat, mouth watering. He missed good ‘ol southern cooking, more specifically his wife’s cooking. Smoke tossed his cigarette bud and grabbed a bouquet of flowers that he purchased from Bo Chow before climbing out of his truck. Walking around to the back of the truck, he lifted the tarp and grabbed a wooden crate filled with Irish Beer and Italian Wine.

Smoke made the short walk to the house, ascending the front porch steps before sitting the crate down to open the door. He needed this. No more running away from his problems. He craved his wife in ways he couldn’t put into words. Smoke had a lot of making up to do, and he was a man of action and very few words.

Smoke could hear Ma Rainey playing from a phonograph in the drawing room. He went to let himself in but paused when he’d heard sensual laughter and soft moans. His body moved from the door, down the steps, and around towards the back of the house. He crept stealthily, slowing down when he’d heard his wife’s name in a voice laced with lust…

One hour before:

Amelia held a woven basked against her left hip while she picked a bundle of collards for dinner. Her curly ringlets swept over her face annoyingly. She blew hair from her lips after grabbing the last bit of collards. Amelia makes her way back to the house. She climbed the back steps and through the screen door.

Inside, Amelia looked at Annie who was busy preparing the catfish for frying.

“Got the collards. I’ll go wash ‘em.”

Annie held Amelia’s gaze, “Thank you, Lia.”

Amelia started rinsing the collards off. Annie found herself caught in a trance. Amelia was situated on her knees in front of a bucket of water on the back porch. The motion of Amelia’s hands. The way her curly auburn hair reminded her of cascading stems, twisted leaves, and red, lipstick-shaped flowers.

Annie broke the silence, “Busy day at the shop today.”

“Sure was. Made a good profit too.” Amelia replied.

“…Whatcha think of Smoke?”

Amelia wasn’t expecting that question from Annie. She glanced up through her lashes at her.

“He scares you?” Annie questioned.

Amelia gave Annie a half shrug, “I—He’s a little scary.”

Annie giggled, “A little?”

“He’s a gangster, Annie. Scary comes wit’ the job.” Amelia jokes.

“Smoke is tough, but deep, real deep…he’s a softy.”

Amelia smirked, “Sounds to me you’re his safe space.”

Annie finished prepping the catfish and checked on the frying oil. Amelia brought in the clean collards. Annie situated herself beside Amelia, helping her cut the collards. Amelia stole glances at Annie. Smoke’s coming back did affect Amelia. Ways she never imagined.

“Is this his favorite meal?” Amelia asked.

“Smoke love him some catfish and collards. Throw in some skillet cornbread you got ya’ self a sappy man. Feed him good and put his head between my bosom.”

Amelia laughed lightheartedly. She bumped her hip into Annie’s and Annie reclined her head against Amelia’s shoulder.

“He strikes me as a breast man—”

Amelia stopped herself from talking. She caught Annie smiling at her warmly. Visuals played over and over in her head of the way Smoke sucked on Annie’s bountiful breasts. Like he wanted to fit his entire mouth around all that heaviness.

“He an all up on me man…every inch of me.” Annie spoke with intensity.

Amelia was witnessing in real time the beautiful bond between them. A bond so strong.

“The way he looks at you, it’s just so…so…”

Amelia studied Annie’s face as she tried to convey her feelings.

“…So inspiring.”

Annie’s eyes fell to Amelia’s lips.

“…You saw us havin’ sex…didn’t you?”

Amelia turned away from Annie. She tried to think of a way to respond to her. Too embarrassed to admit it.

“It wasn’t my intention, Annie—I just…”

Annie’s hand pressed against Amelia’s back. Amelia peered into Annie’s eyes. The hand on her back dragged down to her hip and she found herself flesh against Annie. Just like she did Smoke in that Shack, Annie’s lips latched onto Amelia’s ear. Amelia held onto the wash basin to steady herself. Annie’s skillful lips kissing and nibbling on her ear made her legs all wobbly.

“…thing is, I saw ya’ watching, Amelia…I saw ya’ fingering my pussy…”

“Did Smoke—”

“Smoke don’t know nothin’.”

Annie forced Amelia to look at her with a tight hold on her jaw, so tight her lips puckered.

“What happened between us last night…I’ve been fightin’ all damn day to keep from touching ya’. Truth is…I can’t stop…and I won’t stop…”

Amelia melted. Annie stroked her pouty lips with her thumb before sinking it into Amelia’s mouth. Amelia sucked on Annie’s thumb, eyes closed, soft whimpers filling the room. Annie’s thumb slipped away, leaving behind a trail of spit.

“I–I can’t stop daydreaming ‘bout it, Annie. I want ya’ to taste me again…”

Amelia extended a hand and stroked Annie’s cheek with her fingertips. She got up on Annie, breast to breast, and slammed her lips into hers feverishly. The sound of frying oil popping and the insects of the night mingled with smacking lips and soft moans.

Annie groped Amelia’s thick behind through her dress.

“Fuck,” Amelia tongued Annie’s lips, “Let’s go to the room, look how wet I am for you…”

Amelia grabbed Annie’s left hand and snaked it between her legs. Annie stroked Amelia’s pussy through her panties. Soaking wet heat. Annie attacked Amelia’s neck while her fingers pinched her clit through the satin material.

Immediately, Annie could feel her own pussy cat dripping. She wanted so bad to bend Amelia over the wash basin, lift the back of her dress, and ravish her cooze until she cried. Cried for Annie to keep going, cried after each orgasm. Cried like a good little bitch.

Annie needed to stop. If she didn’t, she’d have to eat Amelia on every surface in that house.

“We gotta get this food cooking…”

Annie broke away from Amelia reluctantly. Amelia’s chest heaved up and down. She thumbed away spit from her bottom lip. Annie was right, Smoke could be here any minute. Annie started frying the catfish and Amelia busied herself with the collards. Still, she craved more from Annie.

Sneaky glances, bumping into each other, soft blues with its melancholy instrumental circulating throughout the small home, no matter how hard they tried, neither one of them could resist. Amelia swayed her hips to the rhythm, stirring the pot of collards just the same. Annie had just finished cooking all the catfish and now she was working on the skillet cornbread.

“Shit…”

Amelia glanced over at Annie mixing the cornbread batter. Some of the batter spilled over her hand and fell to the floor. Amelia watched Annie reach for a towel, but before she could use it to wipe her hand clean, Amelia appeared by her side, capturing Annie’s fingers in her mouth.

Annie was paralyzed with lust.

“Amelia…”

Her finger slipped from between Amelia’s pouty lips with a wet pop, “don’t want all that good batter to go to waste.”

Annie’s clit ached.

Amelia trailed Annie’s spit–covered finger down her neck until she circled it around her protruding nipples. Annie’s eyes glossed over with arousal at the sensation of Amelia’s stiff, brown nipples prominently visible through her khaki dress.

“Lia…they so hard…”

Annie regained control of her hands. She cupped Amelia’s breasts and caressed them in a circular motion. Amelia jutted her chest out for more, extending her neck and throwing her head back.

Annie exhales, “You so beautiful, Lia. So soft…so delicious…”

“Not as soft and sweet as you, Annie…”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Amelia stared deeply into her eyes, “A big, beautiful woman.”

She couldn’t take it anymore.

Buttons undone, Annie smoothed the opening of the khaki dress from Amelia’s satiny, chestnut skin. Her cup bra gave her melons extra lift, fleshy mounds like soft pillows. One by one, Annie released a breast, and she caved at the sight of Amelia’s wrinkled areola and hardened nipples.

Annie wasted no time flicking her tongue over each bud with speed. She circled her arms around Amelia’s waist and made love to her nipples with her teeth, lips, and tongue. Amelia chewed on the corner of her bottom lip, watching Annie move back and forth between each breast. She picked it up a notch and spit on her nipples before tweaking them.

“Annie, I’m so sticky between my legs…you’re making me so weak…” Amelia cooed.

Annie tugged on Amelia’s nipples while sucking on her neck.

“I bet that fat pussy is nice and messy…I know it taste good…”

Amelia whimpered when Annie went back to sucking her nipples. Annie forced one hand down the front of Amelia’s dress and wiggled her hand into her panties.

Annie popped a titty from her mouth, “Damn, wasn’t lying about how sticky you are…c’mon, quick…”

Annie quickly helped Amelia out of her dress and panties. She guided her to the back porch and pushed her down onto a chaise. Amelia didn’t have time to spread her legs and bring her feet up because Annie beat her to it.

“You seein’ this?” Annie questioned with a quiver.

Amelia dropped her hooded eyes down between her thighs. She couldn’t believe how soaked her folds are. Like a succulent storing water. Annie didn’t waste another minute. She smacked her lips and suckled Amelia’s pussy with urgency.

“You needed this pussy in ya’ mouth again look how good ya’ eating it, Annie…”

Amelia palmed Annie’s head. Annie strummed her clit with the tip of her tongue.

“Fuuuck…oh, shit,” Amelia moans, “Annie…Annie…Annie…”

Annie’s magical hands shoved Amelia’s thighs back to open her up more. She slurped and lapped at her pussy lips and deeper. Not once did she come up for air. Annie dragged her nails down the back of Amelia’s thighs.

“I’m finna’ cum…”

Amelia stuck two fingers in her mouth to suppress her cries of pleasure. Annie sucked her clit like she was sucking the sweetest juices off. Amelia closed her thighs around Annie’s head.

Smoke remained in the shadows of the Mississippi night and surrounded by evergreen. He had a tight grip on the flowers he’d gotten for Annie. Smoke watched with a twitch of his eyes. Perfectly round and perfectly shaped breasts with brown nipples bounced back and forth. The face of his wife hidden between buttery smooth thighs. The sound of a tongue and the smell of pussy.

His muscles were stiff. Obsidian eyes unblinking. The sharpness of his jaw clenched. Smoke felt all the blood in his veins rush to his dick. Amelia’s face caught the light of the night and it was whimsical. She stroked Annie’s hair affectionately while riding her tongue.

Smoke sensed it. He had a good feeling that Amelia and Annie were fooling around. Now that his suspicions were confirmed, he didn’t know how to handle the way his body felt. A mixture of lust and envy. Lust for the both of them. Lust to taste Amelia off of his wife’s tongue. Lust to join.

Envy because what’s his is on her knees bringing another woman to climax. Envy because whatever they shared, he wanted a piece of. Smoke’s free hand grabbed onto his thick print and squeezed. Tweed material itched his palm. Fuck, he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. Fuck, he wanted to release his big dick and play with it. The desperation lining his face and the way his tongue smoothed over his teeth, these women sent shockwaves of pleasure through him.

“Annie! I’m cummin’ for you!”

Smoke’s nostrils flared.

“Cum for me, good girl!” Annie praised.

Smoke couldn’t believe the way his dick bulged out.

There was soft laughter followed by Annie surfacing with a wet face and brown eyes drunk with arousal. Amelia cupped her face and flicked her tongue with Annie’s.

“Thank you for that,” Annie kissed Amelia.

“Always,” Amelia spoke against her lips.

They both stood and Annie helped Amelia with her dress. Smoke tip toed away from the yard and pressed his back against the side of the house. He rocked his head back, glancing up at the starry sky. The throb in his dick and balls wouldn’t go away. Kissing his teeth, he drew another cigarette and lit it. His hands shook slightly as he brought it to his full lips.

Amelia.

Her beauty reminded him of a fairy. Something ethereal and magical. Hypnotic. He’d felt it immensely the moment he laid eyes on her. Whatever it is, Annie was under her spell. He’d never known his wife to enjoy some pussy. He had to get himself together before he walked into that house. Shouldn’t be so hard, especially for a gangster with a reputation for violence.

Smoke remained outside for another ten minutes before making his way to the front of the house. He climbed the stairs and twisted the door knob. The door swung open with a creak.

Annie was busy in the kitchen while Amelia plates the table. She wore a different dress, a brightly colored floral dress with a lace–trimmed collar and sleeves. Her long, curly hair was styled in a chic and classic updo with pins. Smoke could tell it was a rush job, because some of the curls framed her face. Amelia’s eyes flicked to Smoke.

Annie looked radiant. She changed into a crushed velvet, dark green dress with chandelier earrings that matched. Her heels click–clacked against the floor boards. Amelia bent over to pick up a cloth that had fallen and the way her backside spread beneath her dress, Smoke’s dick pressed painfully against the seam of his pants. Annie caught his eye and she smiled brightly before making her way over to him. She was wearing her good bra. Those big titties bounced with each step she took.

Smoke gave her a faint smile, holding up the bouquet of flowers. Annie pressed a hand against her bosom and pouted her bottom lip.

“Smoke, these are beautiful!”

Annie accepted the flowers and puckered her lips for a kiss.

“They’re so pretty, Annie,” Amelia said with an elated voice.

Smoke accepted a kiss and then he slipped Annie some tongue. Annie tried to pull away but Smoke placed one strong hand on the back of her neck to keep her tongue in his mouth. The sweet twang of Amelia’s pussy still lingered. Smoke groaned in Annie’s mouth.

Amelia watched them intently while placing silverware on the table. She was absorbed in their intimacy. Smoke caught her eye, staring at her with intensity. Amelia broke her gaze and stroked hair from her face.

He growled.

“Behave,” Annie swatted his bicep, “Dinner is ready. Go clean ya’ hands first.”

Annie turned and Smoke tracked her hips with his eyes.

“Cut all that switchin’ out for I give our guest here a lil’ show.”

That seemed to peak Amelia’s interest. She tried to conceal a smile behind her hand.

“Down, boy,” Annie eyed Smoke up and down.

“Ain’t no boy…”

Smoke tried to stick his fingers in the cornbread. Annie slapped his hand away.

“Go wash ya’ hands, Elijah!”

Smoke pecked Annie’s cheek.

He disappeared to the wash basin.

“Bring anymore wine?” Annie asked.

“Did. It’s on the porch. I’ll go grab some—”

“I got it, Smoke. While you finish washin’ ya’ hands?”

Amelia appeared next to him with an eager smile. Smoke had to collect himself from getting lost in those doe eyes fringed with long lashes.

The very eyes his wife got lost in with a mouth full of pussy.

“Uh, no need, doll. They heavy…”

Smoke wiped his hands on a towel and slipped past Amelia, catching a whiff of her perfume.

Sweet like peaches.

Smoke eyed the table set up, noticing only three plates.

“Shit, forgot to tell ya’ll Stack comin’.”

“No biggie. I’ll put a plate out for ‘em.” Annie replied.

Smoke walked over the threshold and picked up the wooden crate filled with wine and beer. Amelia set up a place for Stack. She walked over to grab an extra chair, but Smoke picked it up before she could. Amelia looked up at him.

“No need, let a man do it.” Smoke said.

“‘Course,” Amelia sauntered back to the table.

Smoke grabbed a bottle of wine.

I’ll put it in the icebox. I know how much you like it chilled.”

Annie brought the food over on serving trays.

Knock knock knock

The door opened.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” Annie said with a laugh.

Amelia’s eyes danced between both men.

Staring at them both, she could tell they were physically identical.

This Stack man just entered the home with a jovial smile filled with deep dimples and golds on his teeth. His eyes sparkled with mischief and foolery.

Amelia gawked at him.

But…their personalities…their auras…vastly different.

Stack removed his red fedora.

“Annie! Sup witcha, woman?!”

“Stack.” Annie said with a smile.

She opened her arms and Stack hugged her tightly.

“Big bro,” Stack dabbed Smoke before pulling him in for a one–armed hug. They did a slick handshake and glided back into a snap, “Woooo, good to see ya’.”

“Just saw ya’ earlier,” Smoke said.

Stack took off his suit jacket and hung it on a coat rack near the front door. His playful, lively eyes fell on Amelia.

Amelia gave Stack a shy wave. Stack strode forward, dapper gait drawing her in.

“Well, well,” Stack nibbled on the toothpick between his teeth and dragged his eyes over Amelia’s frame from head to toe with a tilt of his head, “Who this here, Annie?”

“My friend, Amelia,” Annie’s arm circled Amelia’s waist, “She came all this way from New Orleans to work wit’ me. I’m teachin’ her all I know about hoodoo.”

“She talk?” Stack questions with his brows pinched together and a twitch of his upper lip.

Smoke chuckled low, shaking his head at his brothers antics, “Chill now, Stack.”

“I’m only askin’.”

Stack held his hand out in greeting. Amelia eyed his hand with a slight lift of her brow before extending her hand with the back facing up. Stack wrapped his fingers around her.

“Amelia, huh?

“That’s right.”

Stack pushed the toothpick between his teeth to the side of his mouth. Cute little voice. Sounding like a princess in those fairytales.

“So, you do talk?”

Stack removed his toothpick and leaned in. With her hand still within his grasp, Stack puckered his plump lips and pecked Amelia’s hand like a true gentleman.

“Nice to meet ya’ gorgeous. Hope the Delta treatin’ you right.”

“Is. Thanks to Annie.”

Amelia smiled brightly. Stack stroked the back of her hand with his thumb before finally letting her go. Amelia fiddled with her fingers, darting her eyes away bashfully before swaying over to the table.

Smoke caught his brother’s eye.

Annie cleared her throat.

“Oh, let me clean these hands off.” Stack said.

He walked past the table, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips at the sight of all the food. Smoke pulled out Annie’s chair, and with one hand he pulled out Amelia’s chair. She curtsied before taking her seat. Stack finally joined them, unbuttoning the sleeves to his white shirt and rolling them up his forearms.

“Catfish, collard greens, cornbread, DAMN.”

They each took turns filling their plates.

“Amelia cooked the collards,” Annie shot her friend a look followed by a smile.

“Did she now? Let’s see what we got here…”

Stack and Smoke forked the collards in unison, not even realizing it. Amelia’s eyes danced between them with fascination. Smoke chewed slowly, eyes fixed on Amelia. Stack chewed with his eyes closed, shook his head, followed by a hum of delight.

“Baby girl…you put ya’ foot in this! Gahdamn…”

Annie nudged Amelia with her elbow. Amelia beamed.

Smoke nodded his head before scraping the side of his upper teeth with his tongue.

“They good, Amelia. Real good.”

Amelia twirled the fork in her hand with pride.

“Thank you, Smoke,” She glanced over at his twin, “Stack…”

“Forgot the wine…”

Smoke stood.

“You put a beer in there, Smoke?!”

“I gotcha,” Smoke continued out onto the front porch to grab the drinks.

Stack scarfed down the collards first, fork scraping the plate. Smoke returned and opened the wine, pouring the ladies two glasses full. He unscrewed the cap on the beer for Stack, sliding it across the table where his twin brother caught it with precision.

“Everythang alright, Annie?” Stack asked.

“Better,” Annie locked eyes with her husband, “happy you two made it back in one piece.”

Smoke cut into his catfish with his fork. He added a little hot sauce to it.

“I bet Chicago is nice,” Amelia chimed in, “skyscrapers, broadway…”

“Look nice. Still just the same as the south.” Stack said.

“Did you two stop by to see Sammie?” Annie asked.

Smoke nodded his head, “He good. Still got that guitar we gave ‘em. Daddy doin’ right by ‘em.”

Amelia nibbled on her cornbread drizzled with honey and butter. Stack cleared his plate and sat back to enjoy his beer. He couldn’t help but stare at Amelia. She could feel his eyes on her, looking across the table at him with a piece of cornbread between her fingers and hovering over her pouty lips.

“Amelia. Got a last name?” Stack questions.

“Broussard.”

“Pretty…”

Amelia coaxed the piece of cornbread into her mouth with her tongue. Stack continued to lay on the charm with his deep dimples and attentive eyes. He took a swig of beer as he stared down Amelia like she was the only person who existed.

Smoke glanced between the two of them, fingers digging into his pocket for a cigarette. He grabbed his last one and lit it. Annie sipped her wine and smiled at her husband. Smoke caught her looking and winked at her. Annie placed her hand on his thigh, caressing it.

“We never crossed paths?” Stack questioned Amelia with an expression of betrayal.

“No, Stack,” Amelia giggled genuinely, “Never.”

“You sure,” Stack pointed at her with a finger decorated with a gold ring, “Damn shame. Can’t believe this my first time seeing ya’. Annie, you been keepin’ her to ya’ self?”

Annie gave Stack a coy smile and then locked eyes with Amelia. Both of them looked away quickly, but Smoke was paying attention. He knew everything. She definitely is keeping Amelia to herself. Smoke leaned in to whisper in Annie’s ear.

“You got explaining to do later, baby…”

Annie cocked her head back and dropped her eyes to Smoke’s lips.

“Not as much explaining as you do, Smoke.” She quipped with a roll of her eyes.

Stack filled Amelia’s mason jar with more wine.

“Thank you kindly.”

“Anytime…”

Stack swept his hands down the front of his chest slowly, Amelia shyly pulled her attention to the last bit of food on her plate.

She loved Stack’s energy.

It excites her.

Some time passed and Duke Ellington Orchestra filled the drawing room. While Annie perched her big booty on Smoke’s lap, Stack twirled Amelia around like a merry go round, her dress spinning as she moved. Stack could jive! Amelia grabbed both of his hands and flailed her legs, laughed at Stack’s silly faces, and shook her hips.

Annie tapped her foot to the music. Smoke bobbed his head. Annie’s gyrating in his lap awoke the beast. He looked up at her. Annie felt him poking her rump. She picked up the pace of her hips, teasing him more.

“Annie…”

“What? You sticking me in the ass wit’ that dick.”

“Keep movin’ on me I can’t help it.” Smoke whispered.

“I felt that,” Annie was referring to Smoke making his dick jump, “Elijah…”

There was warning in her voice.

Stack exhaled, wiping sweat from his grow. Amelia fanned herself. Stack held Amelia’s waist as they swayed, hips pressed to each other’s and twin smiles on their faces.

“You the best fuckin’ dancer I ever seen.” Stack said.

“Aren’t you sweet,” Amelia bopped Stack on the nose with her finger, “And you a good time.”

“I try. Gotta make the most outta life with all the other bullshit goin’ on.” Stack replied.

Amelia snaked her arms around Stack’s shoulders.

“You got the sweetest eyes…mind if I call you Princess?”

Amelia chewed on her bottom lip and smoothed her hands down Stack’s chest.

“How much Irish beer you drank?” Amelia asked with a teasing smile, “that liquor got you sweet on me.”

“Not enough,” Stack peeled away from Amelia, “Let me grab some mo’!”

Amelia shook her head at Stack.

Smoke and Annie were dancing now. Amelia took a seat to cool off and removed her shoes. She massaged her left heel and flexed her toes painted red. Stack sought her out and took a seat next to her with a new beer. He slouched in his seat and swung his legs.

Smoke and Annie shared a passionate kiss in the middle of a slow waltz.

Amelia moved her hands up the back of her legs while flexing her ankles. Stack’s eyes were focused on her movements, studying her pretty toes.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Amelia teased.

“I’d take pictures of you any day. I got a camera back home.”

“So, photography ya’ hobby when you ain’t robbing banks and trains?”

Stack smirked with a single dimple.

“Sum’ like that. Whatchu like to do?”

Amelia pondered, “Reading. I love escaping from reality. Picture myself in a castle in the tallest tower…or going on an adventure…or falling in love…”

Stack studied Amelia. His beer was halfway through.

“We all need a lil’ break from the real, ya’ know?” Stack said.

“Yeah,” Amelia nudged Stack’a shoulder, “If ya’ ever need a good book to read, I’m ya’ girl.”

Stack licked his lips, “I’ll hold you to it, Princess.”

Stack and Smoke shared a cigarette on the front porch while talking closely to each other.

Annie and Amelia had just finished cleaning up. Amelia yawned into her hand. She felt lightweight and relaxed from all the wine.

“Had fun tonight?” Annie asked.

“It was wonderful, Annie. Best time in a long while.”

Amelia wiped her hands off with a towel while staring at the twins in deep concentration.

“Ya’ like Stack?”

Amelia looked at Annie, “He’s a good time. And he’s handsome.”

Annie glanced towards the door. Smoke and Stack had their backs turned. Annie slithered her way over to Amelia, dropping her head to her ear to whisper.

“Careful wit’ ‘em Moore men. They’ll turn your world upside down.”

Annie’s warm breath ghosted across Amelia’s cheek. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She kept her eyes forward.

“And it’s been a while since Nathaniel had ya’ right?”

Amelia clenched her thighs together.

Annie pecked Amelia on the cheek.

“Get you some rest. I’ll see ya’ in the morning.”

“Night, Annie.” Amelia said.

Annie disappeared into her room. Smoke heard the door shut and walked back inside followed by Stack. Stack shut the door behind him. Both men stared at Amelia. Smoke with an unreadable expression and Stack with a flirty smile. She looked away before heading to her room.

“I see ya’ later brother—”

“No, no, no. It’s late stay here.”

“I be aight—”

“Stack. Keep yo’ ass here, understand? Ya’ had too much to drink.”

Stack kissed his teeth, “Then where I’m a sleep, fool? On this hard as floor? In the truck? In your room—”

“Nigga—”

“You can sleep in my room.”

Smoke and Stack looked down at Amelia.

“There’s extra blankets and a pillow.”

“Hm,” Smoke eyed Amelia from head to toe, “See? Now ya’ got an excuse to stay.”

Smoke tapped Stack’s shoulder before backing away to his room. He left his twin brother and Amelia standing there.

Stack was wearing his white button shirt tucked into his pinstriped slacks. The first few buttons on his shirt were undone. A chain hung from his neck with a tiny circular dog tag from WWI. The same one Smoke wore.

“Well,” Stack ushered Amelia towards the room with his hand, “Lead the way, Princess.”

Amelia took slow strides towards the room. Inside, she grabbed extra blankets and one of the pillows from the bed.

“Aye, I got this,” Stack piled the blankets on the floor with the pillow, “I’ll give ya’ a second to change.”

Stack left the room and shut the door. Amelia opened the wardrobe in the room and picked out a lavender chemise with a matching robe. She undressed quickly, slipping on the chemise.

“Stack, you can come in,” Amelia climbed into bed.

The door opened and Stack peeked inside.

“All decent, Princess?”

“Yes,” Amelia slipped beneath the sheets.

Stack walked in, took off his shoes, and his shirt. Amelia chewed on her lip while her eyes swept over Stack’s burly frame. Bulging biceps, a thick yet toned torso, defined pecs. Stack tossed his shirt over a chair in the room and lowered to the floor. He was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Amelia turned off the kerosene lamp, bathing the room in mostly darkness.

“Goodnight, Stack.” Amelia said.

“Sweet dreams, Princess.”

On the other side of the house, Annie watched her husband strip down to his underwear, the fabric of his boxer shorts riding up his well–muscled thighs. His mojo bag sat between his pecs along with dog tags that mirrored Stacks. He tied a pressing cap over his hair to make the brush wave style Stack did last longer.

Annie wore a champagne–colored night gown that left little support for her large and heavy breasts, but it was breathable. Her hair was wrapped in a white scarf. Smoke sat on the edge of the bed. Annie got onto her knees behind him, massaging his shoulders.

“What explaining I gotta do, Elijah?” Annie asked.

Smoke shut his eyes and licked his lips with one swipe of his tongue.

“You sure Amelia just your Hoodoo apprentice, baby?”

Annie huffed, “What? Whatchu mean?”

“Ya’ know what I mean, Annie.”

Annie paused.

“…Smoke…”

Smoke looked up at Annie over his shoulder. Annie couldn’t hold his gaze.

“…How you find out?” Annie questioned with a tremble of her voice.

Smoke didn’t respond right away.

“I heard ya’ name, baby. I heard her moaning ya’ name. Then I saw it…I saw you tongue deep in her cooze…”

Annie’s eyes darted to the floor. She slipped her hands away and sat back on her knees. Smoke stood from the bed, facing her.

“How many times?”

Smoke folded his arms over his chest.

Annie shut her eyes slow.

“Three.” She revealed.

Smoke cocked his head.

“You fuck her three times, Annie?”

“Yes…I did,” Annie fiddled with her fingers, “It just—”

“I neva knew you to cheat on me, let alone wit’ a woman?”

Smoke shook his head in disbelief.

What Annie did next surprised him.

She laughed. Smoke furrowed his brows.

“Oh, Elijah,” Annie shook her head between laughs, “You left me for seven years. What did you think I was gon’ do?”

“I came back to you! I love you!” Smoke fired back.

He lowered his voice.

“Stop. Just stop it, Smoke. Ya’ like it.”

“Huh?” Smoke curled his top lip.

“Ya’ heard me. That’s why ya’ kissed me like that before dinner. Ya’ wanted to taste her.”

Smoke shifted his head and shoulders.

“I coulda’ put a root on that dick but I didn’t. Don’t stand there all tough and shit. I know you.”

Annie stood, walking up to Smoke. She got in his face with her hands on her hips.

“Say it. Ya’ like it.” Annie pressed.

“Annie—”

Annie cut him off, “Ya’ wanna play games, I can play wit ya’. Admit to it, ya’ liked seeing me eat her pussy…ya’ liked the way she reacted to it…ya’ like me being wit’ another woman.”

Smoke growled. He wasn’t trying to give in. Annie pressed up on him, never backing down, eyes glued to his.

“Say. It. Nigga.” Annie pressed with sass.

Smoke clenched his jaw. Annie lowered her searing gaze down between her husband’s legs. She almost whimpered. Thick dick twisted to the side in his boxer shorts and poking out the bottom. A big dick.

“…Fine,” Smoke stared her in the eyes, “Yeah. Yeah. I liked it.”

Annie tilted her head, “Wasn’t so hard, now…was it?”

Smoke clenched his shaky hands.

“Shit,” Smoke glared at Annie, “The way you looked…”

Annie placed her hand on Smoke’s chest. She glided it down his body until she was cuffing his dick. It seemed to pulsate in her hand. Annie curled her fingers around his shaft through his boxer shorts. Smoke worried his brows and parted his full lips.

“How did I look, Papa?” Annie whispered seductively.

“So sexy…”

Smoke grabbed Annie’s face and pressed his lips against hers. Their tongues swirled in a sloppy manner. Smoke lowered the straps to her night gown and Annie pulled his boxer shorts down until it fell around his ankles. Smoke stepped out of them, standing before Annie in all his naked glory.

“You actin’ all upset. For what?”

Annie dropped to her knees. Smoke’s big dick was pointed out and curved to the left. Annie looked up at her husband and then wrapped a warm hand around him, stroking him with a twist of her wrist.

“Alls you had to do was be real wit’ me, Elijah.”

Annie tongued the pre cum from his tip. Smoke placed his hands on Annie’s shoulders. He bowed his head to watch her, bottom lip wedged between his teeth.

“You know I’m right,” Annie dragged her tongue along the side of his shaft, “Don’t ya’?”

“Yeah,” Smoke licked his lips, “Stop teasing me, baby…”

Annie wrapped her lips around Smoke’s big dick and fit him all the way down her throat. Annie began sucking, down to the base and back to the tip. She tightened her jaws and rolled her neck to get a good rhythm. Smoke groaned deeply, hand on Annie’s head. Smoke tilted her head back a little so he could fuck her throat with slow, deliberate strokes.

“Fuck, Annie…deep throat on you…”

She was sucking on his pipe and looking him dead in his eyes.

Annie’s sucking made loud, wet sounds and left saliva all over her chin down to her chest.

“Damn,” Smoke could cum from how good it felt, “I wanna eat your pussy.”

Smoke slipped out of Annie’s mouth, dick dripping with spit and throbbing. Deep veins like loving trails for Annie’s tongue. Smoke picked Annie up and put her on her stomach. Annie arched her back and Smoke got down on his knees. He spread Annie’s big cheeks, keeping her open with a firm grip. He caught a whiff of that cooze and almost drooled down his chin.

“So beautiful…so beautiful.”

Smoke rubbed his face in it.

Smoke slobbered all over it.

Smoke sucked to his heart’s desire.

Smoke spanked those cheeks.

Annie was a moaning mess. She couldn’t form words, only sounds.

“Mm…oof…unh…ooo…ahhh…”

Smoke flipped her over. He pushed Annie’s thighs back so far her titties sat beneath her chin. Annie watched Smoke between her fat titties and round belly. He tongue fucked her, got his nose up in it, munched on it all with his eyes on her. Annie’s toes curled at the way his fluffy lips sucked on her clit.

“Smoke!”

She was loud, and she didn’t give a damn.

He ate her pussy up.

Smoke surfaced. He fisted his dick and then pointed it at Annie’s gushy.

“Had my dick so fuckin’ stiff—”

Smoke pushed in and started stroking. Annie watched Smoke’s hips grind, loving his stroke and how it pressed deep to make her cream.

“I’m creaming it, huh?” Smoke slapped her titties.

“Papa!”

“Uh-huh…”

Annie’s titties swayed in a circular motion. Smoke had her thighs out the way. Annie had nowhere to run. He looked up staring into the mirror situated in the corner. A slow smirk painted his lips. Sharp, calculated strokes had Annie gripping him with her walls.

“Cum on Papa’s dick, baby…”

Annie’s eyes crossed. Smoke’s mojo bag dangled in her face.

“Fuck, Annie! This good pussy!”

Smoke’s hips stuttered out of control. The bed creaked from the withering springs. Smoke shot off a thick nut deep inside of Annie’s womb. He propped himself up, staring down at her as sweat dripped onto her. Annie was experiencing an orgasmic high.

“Just what I needed,” Annie opened her eyes to stare at her husband, “I love you, Smoke.”

Smoke grabbed Annie’s hand that was stroking his face and kissed it.

“I love ya’, baby. I’m not mad about Amelia.”

“Ya’ sure?”

“I is,” Smoke leaned forward to kiss Annie, “Just a lil’ jealous. She got ya’ under a spell, baby. Three times?”

Annie giggles, “It’s that good. She tasted good on my tongue?”

Smoke responded with his lips sucking on Annie’s titties.

“I take it that’s a yes?”

Annie lifted Smoke’s face.

“She gon’ be here a while, Smoke…”

Annie thumbed Smoke’s bottom lip.

“…Then we give her a proper welcome.”

Annie’s eyes lit up.

Smoke let Annie up to get dressed. He decided to sleep naked. Annie turned off the kerosene lamp and Smoke settled behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his front. Annie’s backside snuggled against his dick. The pale moonlight bathed their bodies, the sweat on their dark skin glistening.

@eggnox @blackisy2k @thickeeparker @theereinawrites @angelin-dis-guise @thee-germanpeach @harleycativy @alexbabyyyy @readingaddict1290 @thedondada05 @blackamericanprincessy @aristasworld @avoidthings @brownsugarcoffy @ziayamikaelson @kindofaintrovert @raysogroovy @overhere94 @sug3rco0k1es @joysofmyworld @an-ever-evolving-wanderer @starcrossedxwriter @marley1773 @bombshellbre95 @nybearsworld @blossom3010 @kykylovesblog @desthefanfc @jeurden23janise @brincessbarbie @kholdkill @honggihwa @tianna-blanche @wewantsumheaad @goddessofthundathighs @nearsightedbaddie @charmedthoughts @beaboutthataction @mynameisnikkinik @girlsneedlovingfanfics @candelalanegra22 @mrsknowitallll @pinkprincessluminary @rissa21405 @chefjessypooh @sk1121-blog1 @contentfiend @kaystacks17 @bratzlele @massivewolfslimeturtle @kirayuki22 @bxrbie1 @blackerthings @intellectualassholee @angryflowerwitch @baddiegiii @mysteriouslycertaincherrybl-blog @syko-jpg @inkdrippeddreams @rolemodelshit

#nahimjustfeelingit-writes #elias stack moore #stack sinners #stack smut #elias smokes x black!oc #elijah smokes x black!oc #annie and elijah smokes #sinnersfanfiction #sinners smut #sinners 2025 #sinners #michaelbaejordan #michealbjordan

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massiv3tr33p3rsona · 20 days ago

Text

Home | Annie X Smoke X Lucinda (Black Fem OC)

Home Part I.

Pairing: Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore (Sinners) x Annie (Sinners) x Lucinda (Black Fem OC) (Woman in GIF: Yseult)

Summary: Lucinda is doing her chores at Annie’s shop when the latter’s estranged husband, Smoke, returns following a long stay in Chicago, where they engaged in a very tense conversation that ends in a long session.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, a bit lengthy, threesome (f-m-f), oral (m receiving, f receiving), fingering, mastrubating, handjob, titty sucking/playing, slight choking, slight vouyerism, face riding, slapping, slight worshipping, angst, snowballing (hehe), saliva play, creampie, aftercare, emotional feelings, mentions of death, Hoodoo practicing, slight knife play, cursing, smoking, drinking, slight pregnancy ritual (but it’s not who you think), slight spoilers

Parts: II • III • IV • Epilogue • Prequel

Dividers Made By: @uzmacchiato

THIS IS MY WORK, SO PLEASE DO NOT STEAL IT.

Inside a wooden brown home, on a huge king sized bed, laid two curvy black women, sleeping peacefully with nothing on in the hot airy room.

Surrounded by candles, minerals, jars of different liquids and herbs, this was the work done by Annie, who practices Hoodoo and her Louisiana Creole girlfriend that follows and helps around, Lucinda.

The sun shines through the window, reflecting on the women. A few minutes go by and Lucinda is awoke, rubbing her eyes. She sits up, looking around to make sure nothing seemed off before looking at Annie, who is still sleeping.

She traces over her face, admiring her beautiful features that enhances her face as she checks to see if she’s still wearing her mojo bag necklace Annie made her as soon as they started seeing each other.

“Annie.” as she kisses her cheek, waiting to see if she moves.

Annie moves a bit, but is not fully awake. Lucinda laughs, gently moving herself between Annie’s legs as she kisses her lips a few times, placing her arms on the outers of Annie’s hips.

“Get up. We have to open shop really soon.” Lucinda whispers as she traces over one of Annie’s breasts, hearing her breathing pitch up a bit.

“Stop…..just a….few more…minutes.” she said in a sleepy voice, gently pushing Lucinda back before adjusting her head on the pillow.

Lucinda chuckles before taking herself into Annie’s mouth, giving her a sloppy kiss and massaging her breasts. Annie slightly fights back, letting herself succumb to Lucinda’s attack.

She breaks the kiss, beginning to place them on her neck, breasts, and stomach as she trails lower and lower to her pussy, stopping as it comes into her view.

“What are y….you doing, Lucin…da?” asked Annie.

“I’m hungry.” replied Lucinda as she spreads Annie’s legs open, placing one leg on her shoulder as her hand traces over the outline of her clothed lips.

Annie lets out a quiet moan, rubbing Lucinda’s arm as she pushes her underwear to the side, feeling her breath blowing at her dripping heat.

Lucinda pushes on her clit, watching more essence spill out of her, wetting up her finger. She looks at Annie, who is still half asleep before placing her tongue inside her hole, beginning to suck and flick around it.

“Fuck….” moaned Annie, now fully awake and arching her back a bit.

Lucinda smiles, letting out a POP! sound as she removes her tongue, seeing a trail of her saliva connecting to it.

“You’re so wet for me…” she whispers, licking her clit before diving back in, speeding up her pace.

Annie lets out a few expletives, feeling herself getting hotter and intense the more quick Lucinda’s tongue and mouth was moving.

Suddenly, Lucinda stops, sitting herself up. Grabbing her hips, she pulls Annie into a lay down position, but her waist and legs are bent towards her, making her have easier access to her pussy.

“You good?” she asked, locking eyes with her.

Annie nods feverishly before Lucinda resumed, this time rubbing her clit in a circular, right motion, causing Annie to squirm a bit.

“Don’t. Do tha—fuck!” yelped Annie as Lucinda inserted a finger inside, pumping in and out.

“I don’t run from you when you got me like this. Don’t do that with me.” said Lucinda.

She stops, placing her mouth over her hole again and begins eating her out, causing Annie to let out a variety of moans.

Lucinda slaps her thighs a few times, feeling her tense up a bit before relaxing again as she continuously licks over a sweet spot, making Annie speak in a different language.

“Maṣe dawọ duro. Ahọn rẹ jẹ ki inu mi dun! (Don’t stop. Your tongue is making me feel good.)” yelled Annie, trying to filp them over, but Lucinda holds her in position with her legs pinned against her, licking and slurping everything in a sloppy way.

Annie feels her climax building with each swipe, making her cry out in tears as she tugs on the sheets, being unable to move. She looks at the picture of her and Smoke at their wedding on her nightstand, slamming it down before placing her hand on Lucinda’s hair and pushing her face deeper into her heat.

Lucinda obliges, pushing in to the point she can’t breathe, but is consumed by lust to finish making Annie release all over her.

“Let me cum please. I need it.” whispers Annie, grabbing one of Lucinda’s hands and cupping it around one of her breasts.

Lucinda squeezes it, speeding up her finger and tongue, feeling Annie gripping around both. She moans, letting the vibrations add on to her attack.

“Cumming. Cumming!” yells Annie as her release washes over her body, making herself squirt and spaz in Lucinda’s grip.

Lucinda lifts up her head, face fully soaked from her essence as she watches Annie come down from her high, gently laying her lower half down on the bed before getting up going to the bathroom.

Annie catches her breath, reliving the moment that just happened while filling the soreness grow. She slowly drifts back to sleep when suddenly, she felt something wet between her legs.

She opens her eyes, seeing Lucinda wiping away her essence with a wet cloth, holding a bowl in her hand. She dipped the cloth into the ball and brings it up to her breasts, wiping her chest.

“You know you don’t have to do this..” said Annie.

Lucinda chuckles, bringing the cloth to her hands and wiping them as well.

“We’re behind schedule. Today feels like it’s gonna be one of those chaotic days.” She replied, placing a kiss on one of them.

“Every day is chaotic when practicing what we do. Life can be very unpredictable.” said Annie.

“Mmhm. Now get dressed so we don’t have angry customers questioning why we’re not opened.” said Lucinda.

She gives Annie a kiss before walking to the bathroom, pouring the bowl out as she starts washing her face.

Annie gets up, walking toward the closet and vanity as she looks through what she wants to wear. She sees the photo of her, Smoke, and their infant daughter hanging up, making her grab it to hold.

“Oh how I miss the both of you..” she whispers, holding the photo to her chest as tears begin to form in her eyes.

Lucinda watches from the bathroom, knowing how much pain him leaving to go to Chicago with his brother and the death of their daughter caused on Annie.

Inside the small shop consists of candles, herbs, oils, incenses, tarot cards, bowls, books, statuary, posters, and altars as both women are working, fixing up the shop.

Lucinda is refilling the mini jars of cinnamon and different herbs as Annie organizes the candles, making sure they are aligned perfectly.

Small movements on the steps caused both women to look at the door, seeing two small children enter.

“Afternoon, Miss Annie and Miss Lucinda!” said the little girl as she and her little brother walked up to the counter where Annie was.

“Afternoon, little ones.” said Annie, a smile formed on her face.

“What can we help you with?” asked Lucinda.

“Our mama sent us here to pick up some snack powder.” said the little brother.

“Sack, Donny. Saaack.” said the little sister, looking at her brother, who laughs.

Lucinda chuckles, adoring the mispronunciation of satchel from both kids as Annie steps up, walking them to a shelf of different ones.

“I think I can help with that. Did she say which one in particular?” asked Annie.

“Something with luck. And….benny mat?” said the little girl.

Banishment. The word she’s trying to pronounce is banishment.

Annie nods before taking out a tray of them, looking through each one. Lucinda finished the last jar, placing them on the table. She grabs a sun hat and puts it on, walking towards a corner.

“Ima go water and trim the flowers and herbs, Annie.” she said, grabbing the water can and garden tools sack.

Annie nods as she watches Lucinda walk to the back, turning her attention back to the children.

In the small garden that stays behind the shop, Lucinda is trimming branches and dead plants, throwing them into the bag near her.

“My, my. You blue hydrangeas have gotten so beautiful the last time I see ya.” she said, rubbing her fingers over the petals.

She moves to the sage and flax seed next to it, adding a bit of water to it so it doesn’t get ruined. She cuts off some lavender, placing them in her chest pocket, before resuming watering and trimming.

It took a lot of conviction to Annie to add flowers to the garden to update its appearance when they first began to see each other. She was against the idea, saying they were “ruin” her herbs with all of their different chemicals, but Lucinda convinced her to expand the garden to give each plant some space and making sure that they don’t mix in with each other.

She notice a group of blooming baby breaths next to the chamomile, gently picking them out instead of cutting them. She examines them, taking in its very soft and small details that Annie was telling her about, understanding why she likes them so much.

She gets up, walks over to the grave of Annie and Smoke’s daughter, which had a bottle of sugar, a blueish paper, and a rock with the baby’s hand print laying on top. She gently places them next to the bottle, fixing their appearance before standing up.

“You don’t know me…but your mama has told me about you, little one.” she said, looking at the hand print.

The story of how Annie and Smoke met is a little confusing to her, but she remembers some important details: they met after him and his brother returned from serving in World War I. He was a bit weirded out with her Hoodoo practices, but respect it everything she did. Their relationship caused a slight strain between him and his brother, who clearly had different lifestyles as his brother was running around, getting himself in trouble and fucking other peoples women. They got married very fast and soon after that, she became pregnant with their daughter. However, just a few weeks after she was born, she passed unexpectedly.

Lucinda never asked how, but she always felt the pain each time Annie mentions her. This caused a strain in their marriage as Smoke blamed her practices for her death as it should’ve protected her as well and immediately left to work in Chicago with his brother, never contacting her once ever.

She doesn’t understand how can someone who married and welcomed a child with not contact their spouse for years, but life goes on and hopefully, Annie moved on.

Lucinda walks back to the garden, resuming her work. As she dumps out the sack of dead plants and branches into the trash, she hears a car pulling up.

Taking out her knife, she hides behind the cornerstone, making sure she isn’t visible to whoever it is in that car. The car door slams, with footsteps moving. She peers from the corner, waiting to see who is this individual walking back here.

Coming into her view, a man in a blue plaid tailor suit, wearing a blue wool hat, walks up to the grave, holding a bouquet of white hydrangeas. He kneels, gently placing them behind the rock before tracing over the grave, sniffling.

“Pa was here.” he mumbles. “Pa was here.”

Smoke. That’s who that was is what Lucinda said to herself.

She walks out, carefully not making noise or else, he will see her until she stops when Annie comes out, looking at her.

“What’s going on?” she asked before turning her head.

Seeing Smoke at their daughter’s grave, she pauses, intensely breathing quiet as she watches him get up and look at her, stunned at her and Lucinda standing there.

“You’re back.” said Annie, with anger slightly peaking in her tone.

He removes his hat, showing more of his tearful face, wiping them away.

“Yeah. I am.” he replied, a small smile appearing on his face.

As much as she wanted to hear the reason why he hasn’t contacted or sent anything to Annie in the years he’s been gone, Lucinda can feel herself getting anger, not wanting to snap at him.

“Mm.” whispered Lucinda, grabbing the things and walking towards the shop.

“I’ll let y’all talk.” she utters, ignoring Smoke’s intense gaze.

Annie nods, walking forward to stand more in his view.

“How you been?” he asked.

“Busy. Running the shop and living my life to deal with the emptiness you left me with.” Annie replied bitterly.

Lucinda pulls the blinds shut, not wanting to hear more of the conversation. She looks at the children, who are still here, examining each powder, trying to figure out the ones their mother wants.

“Y’all doing okay?” she asked.

“Yeah!” they said in unison.

“Alright, let me know if you need any help. I’ll be here, cleaning off the tools and wash my hands.” she said, placing the tools in the sink.

The children nodded, continuing to look at the powder as Lucinda turns on the water, grabbing the sponge and soap.

A few minutes goes by and Annie reenters the shop, walking to Lucinda, who just finished washing her hands after cleaning the tools.

As she’s drying her hands with a towel, Annie wraps her hands around her waist, pulling into an embrace.

“Woah. What are you doing?” ask Lucinda, cut off guard by that.

“I can’t give you love?” asked Annie, placing a kiss on her neck.

“Yeah but…. You still got some young customers in here and I don’t think they should see that.” whispered Lucinda, tilting her head towards the children.

Annie pecks her lips, gently squeezing her hip before walking towards the kids.

“I’ll take care of them.” she whispered, winking at Lucinda before turning her attention back to the kids.

Lucinda smiles, removing her sun hat placing on the counter before turning around to see Smoke in the door frame, staring at her before walking in and examining the whole room. Lucinda stares back, a fiery scrunity now settling over her.

“That’s all for you guys?” ask Annie as she places some of the powder into a little bag.

”That’s all, Miss Annie.” said the little girl.

The little boy hands over the two dollars to Annie, who takes it as she hands the bag to the girl.

“Be careful with walking home with that powder now. I don’t want your mama coming in here, crazy because of something that happened.” she said, stepping aback and placing the money on the counter.

“Thank you, Miss Annie.” said the little boy.

“Bye, Miss Lucinda!” the little girl.

Lucinda waves at them as they walk out, leaving her, Annie, and Smoke in the shop, silence brewing in the air.

“Why do you like taking that money when I can give you real money?” he asks, picking up the money off the counter.

Annie whips out her blade, holding it to Smoke’s throat as he takes out a band of money to hand to her.

“I don’t want that blood money you bought up in here.” she replied.

“Girl, if you don’t get that blade away from me-“

“Or what? You’re gonna abandon her again, but take her money along with you?” asked Lucinda, cutting him off.

Smoke snapped his eyes at her, annoyed that she butted herself in.

“You’re gonna let this woman—“

“Lucinda is my name, thank you.”

Smoke huffs, clearing his throat before looking at Annie.

“You’re gonna let LUCINDA talk to me like that?” he said in a loud voice.

“She can do what she wants. Considering she filled in what you left. Now give me my money back before I cut you.” said Annie, pushing the blade slightly into his neck.

Smoke sighs, handing her back the money. She takes it, putting the blade away. Lucinda rolls her eyes, taking out the lavender in her pocket.

“You know which bowl is not filled with any of the sands?” she asked, looking at each bowl on the surface.

“The cracked white one.” said Annie.

Lucinda grabs it, placing the lavender inside and crushing it with a pestle. Grabbing a rolling paper, she sprinkles some lavender inside before grabbing some grinned chamomile in a jar and sprinkling some of it as well.

“You’re not gonna tell me more about your little follower you got in here?” said Smoke, walking around the front of the shop.

“You come back after eight years of no contact and now wants to run shit because your little adventure with your brother has ended. I guess that’s how the relationship of the SmokeStack twins goes, huh?” said Lucinda, rolling up the paper into a cigarette.

“Mm. You just like Stack. Running your mouth, knowing what trouble you might get into.” said Smoke, sitting in a chair.

“That’s funny. I don’t see any trouble in this room right now. Better yet, a real man.” she replied, cutting her eyes to Smoke.

Annie looks at her with a pleading expression, begging her to stop.

“Really? What does a real man look like to you?” he asked, looking at the both of them.

“Supportive. Loving. Communicative. Happy. Making sure his family, including his wife, is good. Not just leaving because life is getting tough and you need a way out.” she replied, crossing her arms together.

“Huh….” is all he could say, his anger slowly rising.

“Mmhm. I get it’s common for you to do that since you did fight in the war. But wow. Abandoning your grieving wife is quite a new low for you, Smoke.”

“Lucinda, that’s enough!” said Annie, standing in front of her.

“No, no. Let her continue. Pretty sure it’s the practices you’re teaching that’s coming through.” he said, standing up.

Annie looks at him, infuriated as Lucinda chuckles, placing the cigarette in her pocket before slowly walking up to him.

“Teaching, aye? You mean the teaching that has protected you and Stack over the years you’ve been gone? How you’re still able to stand up here with all limbs and how you haven’t put a fucking bullet through your head? I wish I had discovered this much sooner this because if I did, maybe my husband, who served in the same war you fought in, would still be here with me haven’t he not gone crazy and took himself out.”

“Baby, please.” whispered Annie.

“No.” she replied, looking at her. “Because I’m sick of him constantly shitting on this as if every bad that has happened to him was avoided because of it and you’re only taking it because you married him. I’m not doing that shit this time because if it’s all such hearsay to him…”

She rips open Smoke’s coat, revealing a mojo bag necklace he’s wearing underneath, shocking him. Annie, with a surprised look, walks up to him, touching the bag.

“Why is he still wearing it? Hm? You would think he took that shit off, but surprisingly, no. Just all talk like the rest of them..”

“All talk? Like I’m not the one who keeps my brother in check every single time we’re doing something?!” he yells, getting in Lucinda’s space.

“Both of you, stop!” said Annie, pushing him back a bit.

“You wanna know why I don’t believe in it, but I’m still wearing this? She made it. Every single day I was gone, I always remember that Annie was with me. Through the good. The bad. The ugly. I never took this off, even when I was showering. That’s my ode to her.” he said, holding the mojo bag up.

“What I don’t understand how can all this work for me…..but did nothing when our daughter died? Was she a sacrifice for all of the things we did? Can you answer that? Or you don’t know either?” he added, staring her down.

Annie looks at the both of them as a hazy vision comes over, making the room blurs out a bit as Lucinda looks at him, matching her energy.

She questions if it’s even worth responding, considering he’s hardheaded and anything he says could make things worse. She looks down, noticing how tense his body was until she got to his dick, which was throbbing through his pants.

Is he getting hard off this? she asked herself, contemplating if she should mention it or just let it go. She sighs, looking at him again, who was waiting for a response.

“….I couldn’t tell you. But what I do know is I would never bring up a dead person in the midst of a conversation. Especially calling them a “sacrifice”. Cause that was her child too. And that was something you were just crying over when you first got here. You can believe in anything you want…..but I would never disrespect a deceased baby of someone I love. That’s all I have to say.” said Lucinda, turning away.

Smoke is about to say something, but Annie silences, taking the mojo bag off his neck. Lucinda blinks, trying to prevent the tears from falling as she grabs a glass from the cabinet, a bottle of whiskey, and a lighter.

Annie opens the mojo bag, pouring all of it into a bowl as she lights up candles and an incense as Smoke grabs a smoke pipe, lighting it up.

“Bring that whiskey to me, please.” she asked, looking at Lucinda.

The latter walks over, pouring some in her glass before placing the bottle on the table. Before she sits down, she looks at Annie, gently rubs her face before giving her a kiss, squeezing her ass.

Smoke smiles a bit, inhaling the pipe as Lucinda breaks the kiss, taking a seat in the chair near the table. Annie licks her lips, pouring a bit of a whiskey into the bowl and on the table before citing a spell quietly, bowing her hands as they watch her.

“Why are you here?” she asked, looking at Smoke.

“Stack and I are having our grand opening of the juke tonight.” as he blew some smoke out, not looking at her. “We was hoping you and her can cook for us. Was thinking some catfish. About a 1000 people.”

Lucinda sideeyes him as she lights up her cigarette, inhaling some of the lavender and chamomile. Annie stares at him, not believing what he’s actually saying.

“Elijah…..” she said, making him look at her.

“Why are you really here?” she asked again, the candles flickering.

Smoke looks down, clearing his throat as he looks at Annie again, guilt running all over his face. Lucinda downs her whiskey before pouring a new one.

“…..I love you. And I miss you. I miss us. I’m sorry….” he said, his voice trembling on the last one.

Lucinda looks at Annie, who is now on the verge of tears. She walks over to Smoke, who pulls her into an emotional embrace, laying his head on her chest as she consoles.

Lucinda looks away, wondering if she should leave and let them be as she feels like she’s invading their privacy. As she looks up, she sees them making out with each other, with Annie wrapping her hand around Smoke’s throat.

Lucinda becomes enthralled at the sight, feeling herself getting wet as Annie moves her other hand toward Smoke’s private area, gripping his throbbing dick. He winces, feels himself get harder as her grip around his throat tightens a bit.

“Ara rẹ ko gbagbe mi (Your body didn’t forget me).” she whispered, moaning at his hot breath breathing over her chest as he stands up, putting his mouth over hers again.

Lucinda puffs out the remaining of her cigarette before getting up, slowly walking over to them. She stands behind Annie, caressing her side as she begins kissing all over her neck and shoulder.

Annie moans, pulling away from Smoke to make out with her, turning her body to rub against hers as she rubs her ass against Smoke’s print, earning a few slaps on her cheeks.

She breaks the kiss, moving to the side as she pulls Smoke and Lucinda close, stopping at a certain distance.

“Go ahead. It’s just me here.” whispered Annie.

Lucinda and Smoke hesitated for a bit before kissing, both fighting for dominance. Annie smiles, turned on by her husband and her girlfriend making out with each other. Carefully, she slides her hand under Lucinda’s dress and into her panties, fondling her clit as she slide her other one into Smoke’s pants and into his underwear, jacking off his dick.

Both lovers break the kiss to gasp and moan, but Annie stops, shaking her head.

“I didn’t say you can stop now. Continue and I’ll resume my play.” she said, looking at the both of them.

Lucinda grabs Smoke’s face and continues kissing him, biting his lips in the process as Annie resumes, speeding up her pace.

Annie growls at Lucinda’s essence and Smoke’s pre-cum wetting up her hands, forming a puddle in her panties. She removes her hands, standing up to remove her dress as they broke the kiss again, lips all swollen.

“Strip. Now.” utters Annie, removing her panties.

The lovers followed, with Lucinda being the quickest to removing her clothes as Smoke got his underwear off finally, his dick swaying up and down.

“Sit.” she orders him, point at the chair.

He obliges, sitting down and making sure his legs stay open. She walks up, kneeling in between them as she turns to Lucinda, motioning her to do the same, scooting over a bit. She obliges, getting into her exact position.

“Follow along.” she whispers before giving Lucinda a kiss.

She grabs Smoke’s dick and begins jerking it, making him flinch a bit. She grabs Lucinda’s hand and places it above her, motioning her to stroke. Both women began moving their hands, creating a sensual sensation for Smoke, who is fighting so hard to not release all over them.

Annie takes his tip into her mouth, beginning to bobble her head up and down as Lucinda fondles her breast, watching in awe.

“Fuck……” mumbled Smoke, throwing his head back.

“Suck that dick real good, Annie.” whispered Lucinda, placing kisses all over her shoulder.

Annie sucks for a few more minutes before removing her mouth, bringing Lucinda’s mouth to his tip and watching her engulf it, moaning at the sight. The latter begins moving her head up and down at a fast pace, her saliva coating her and Annie’s hands.

“Mo fe ki o gun oju mi (I want you to ride my face).” whispered Annie as she removes her hand and gets into position under her.

Lucinda lifts up a bit without missing a beat as Annie guides her back down onto her face, positioning her pussy over her mouth, tighten her grip as she begins to eat her out.

“Mmm fuck!” she moaned around Smoke’s dick as she begins grinding her hips over Annie’s face, creating a rhythm.

Smoke grabs a handful of her hair and begins pumping his hips against her face, practically face fucking her. She makes incoherent sounds, taking in the arousing position she’s currently in.

“That’s right. Slop my shit up with that reckless mouth of yours.” he said, forcing her to look at him.

He pulls her off, slapping the tip all over her face and tongue before reinserting it, watching her bop her head up and down. Annie begins rubs her clit fast, making her whimper and try to get up, but Smoke hold hers down, grinding his hips into her face.

“You don’t run from her when she got you like this. Don’t do that now that I’m back.” he added.

Lucinda feels herself getting close to release, speeding up her hips and mouth, not caring about how sensitive she’s about to feel afterwards.

Finally, her release washes over her, with her moaning loud, her hips bucking, and squirting all over Annie’s face as Smoke holds her head down, shooting his seed down her throat as he lets out so many expletives.

Lucinda falls to the side, catching her breath as Annie lays next to her, catching hers as well.

Smoke stands up, jerking his dick as he looked at the two beautiful women glistening from the sun reflecting on them. He smiled, looking at the time on his watch before looking back at them.

“We ain’t got much time, so who wanna go first?” he asked with a smirk in face.

Both women smiled weakly as they opened their legs, exposing their soaking pussy to him.

“Oh? I see I got options.” he mumbled before kneeling in front of them.

Sounds of excessive moaning, skin slapping, and the floor creaking fills the room as Smoke fucks Annie while she and Lucinda are in a 69 position, with the latter slobbing down her pussy.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” he asked, pulling Annie close to his chest.

“Yes, yes! Don’t stop please!” she replied, feeling him kiss her ear as Lucinda flicks, her tongue fast.

Smoke slams his hips into her ass hard, filling himself poking a sweet spot inside her, which is making her moan loud.

He stops, push her down towards Lucinda’s pussy, where she began sucking on her clit as he resumes fucking her.

“Oh shit!” cried Lucinda, feeling very overstimulated.

Annie kisses her lips a few times before slurping it, gently plumping her fingers inside. Smoke chuckles, slapping her ass a few times before speeding up his pace, giving her brutal strokes.

Annie whines, squeezing around his shaft as his tip continuously hits her sweet spot, rubbing Lucinda’s clit very hard.

“I’m about to cum.” said Lucinda, gripping down on Annie’s fingers.

“Same, mmm! Same!” said Annie, throwing it back to speed it up.

Smoke wraps his hand around Annie’s neck and slightly chokes her, feeling his own release approaching at well while matching her pace.

“Let’s all cum together then!” he grunted as he continuously slams into Annie, feeling her walls tightening around him.

A few moments later, Lucinda and Annie’s release washes over both women, with each squirting all over each other’s face, moaning in unison.

Smoke yells “Shit!” before filling Annie up with his cum, coating up her womb, moaning at the feeling. As he removed himself, he watches his seed slide out, drip down Annie’s lips and into Lucinda’s mouth, who slurps every last bit of it up.

“You’re so nasty….” he whispered, rubbing his tip all over Lucinda’s mouth.

A dazed Lucinda smiles, sucking the tip as Annie removes herself, watching these two from afar. Suddenly, an idea came into her head, making her get up to grab something.

“Everything okay?” asked Smoke with a concerned look on his face.

Annie goes through the bottles of oils, looking at each one until she finally found the sandalwood and lavender, walking back over to them.

“I have an idea and you have to trust me on it.” she replied as she kneeled next to Lucinda.

“….dont tell me it’s one of those bullshit magic things you’re attempting.” he said, getting up but is stopped by Lucinda.

“You’re hard again…..” she said quietly, gently stroking his dick.

Smoke tenses, wanting to remove her hand but won’t as Annie looks at him, tears slightly forming.

“Please……it’s for me and you. She’s perfect for it and it can help us heal from her.” she whispers, grabbing his hand.

Smoke sighs, looking at the time on his watch again before looking at her.

“Guess I can spare some more time. But if it’s doesn’t work…..we’ll try naturally again. Understood?” he said, grabbing her hand.

Annie nods. Smoke repositions Lucinda on her back as Annie opens and rubs the oil over Smoke’s dick and Lucinda’s pussy.

“Mu oyun ni ilera ati ọmọ. Ko si ohun dudu ti yoo wọ inu rẹ. (Bring her a healthy pregnancy and baby. Nothing dark will come inside her).” is what Annie chanted as she rubs some over her breasts, hearing her whimper a bit.

“It tingles a bit.” said Lucinda.

“That means it’s working. Come on. Get in position, Elijah.” she added, bringing Lucinda’s legs to her chest, holding them open.

Smoke spreads the excessive oil around his balls and pelvic area before lining himself up at her entrance, rubbing the tip around it.

“You ready, Lu?” he asked, looking at her.

“We’re at nicknames now?” she replied, smiling a bit.

“Yeah now that you about to be family.” he replied, grabbing her legs to hold them down.

He inserts slowly, making her groan a bit and him cursing under his breath.

“Careful now.” said Annie.

“You just took all of me when you were riding me while Annie was on my face. How you tight yet again?” he asked, filling her up with the rest of him, making her pant hard.

“I think it’s the oil…..you feel much bigger inside me now.” she replied, wrapping her hands around his waist.

Smoke looks at Annie, who motions him to start. Going at a steady pace, he begins fucking, gripping her legs to hold himself up.

“Shit….” whispered Lucinda, feeling him getting closer and closer to her sweet spot.

He removes his hands and wraps them around her neck, adding some pressure. She begins rubbing her clit, slowly building up her release as Smoke speeds up his strokes.

“God, you look sexy as hell, doing that in front of my wife.” he grunted, slamming a little rough into her, making her moan louder.

“Annie..please. Touch me.” she whimpers, locking eyes with her.

Removing her hands from holding her legs, Annie wraps her hands around Lucinda’s breasts and begins fondling them, earning a moan from her.

Smoke chuckles, kissing Annie before grabbing Lucinda’s face and giving her a fat sloppy kiss as he deepens his strokes, moaning at her getting adjust to his size again. Her incoherent sounds overpowers his, making her fall into a deep sexual haze.

“Oh my god….I’m getting close.” he moans, grinding his hips. “I can feel myself aching for a release.”

“That’s good. Continue doing her.” said Annie, removing her hands and getting up to grab the oil.

Lucinda whines about Annie not touching her anymore, until Smoke lowers his head, taking one of them into his mouth to suck and using one of his hands to find out the other, his strokes becoming sloppy.

“Keep doing that. You’re about to bring me to mines.” she said, wrapping her legs around his waist, which he groans in response.

Annie stands behind them, pouring some oil into her hands. She massages his balls, hoping it will help with his release.

Finally, he gives one final stroke before shooting inside her, letting out tearful moans as he pulsates as a gleeful Annie watches. Lucinda’s release follows, letting out some whimpers as she holds onto Smoke tightly.

He lays on an exhausted Lucinda, catching his breath as Annie heads to the sink, filling a bowl up with water.

“What the hell did you…mmm. What did you put in that shit?” he asked, feeling himself shooting even more inside Lucinda.

“Special ingredients that will help with having a healthy pregnancy. And a healthy, long lasting baby.” she replied, grabs a towel before walking back over.

“Or babies.” added Lucinda, feeling Smoke smirk.

Carefully, Smoke pulls out, making sure nothing spills out before lay against the chair, catching his breath.

Annie kneels next to Lucinda, dipping the towel into the ball, and begins wiping her skin at a gentle pace.

“……I love you.” said Smoke.

“I know, Smoke.” replied Annie.

“….her too.” he added.

Lucinda laughs weakly, closing her eyes a bit to rest as Annie cleans her.

The trio rides in the car together, with Lucinda sitting in the middle of the couple, rolling up a lavender cigarette for Smoke.

“You know I only smoke tobacco, right?” said Smoke.

“Well, this is much healthier cause I don’t want that smell getting all over my clothes…..or the baby.” replied Lucinda, lighting up the cigarette before placing it in his mouth.

Smoke inhales, blowing some out before nodding his head, impressed with the taste. Lucinda hands it over to Annie, who takes it to finish the rest.

“You sure it’s gonna be a thousand people tonight?” asked Annie.

“More like a 100 probably. We just wanna have enough catfish for everyone to eat.” he replies.

“You guys are not worried about the KKK showing up?” asked Lucinda.

“They won’t. Or else, Stack and I will gladly take them out.”

She nods before laying her head on Annie’s shoulder. She’s excited to see their juke joint come to life, but something inside tells her that this night is not gonna go smooth but can’t detect why….

A/N: Started this Sunday because I can’t get this damn film out of my head and now I’m glad that I finished this today. I am hoping to finish the other three parts that are planned. Otherwise, thanks for reading!

498 notes · View notes

starliis · 17 days ago

Text

(2) milk & honey— sinners.

 pairing

elias "stack" moore & elijah "smoke" moore x black! reader.

 synopsis

one knew better than to look twice at the smoke-stack twins. but ain’t nobody ever said that once they set their eyes on you, it would already be too late. between their rough hands and honeyed lies, you learned real quick— it ain’t no sin if you ain’t plannin’ to repent. you belonged to them now. and they weren’t the kind to truly ever let go.

 warnings

sexual content, in other words smut, childhood lovers, mentions of possessiveness, some pining, romance, infatuation. african american reader; black representation. rooted in the 1930s, language heavy; cursing. written in a southern tone.

•  part one of milk & honey.

Their lips felt like honey—so rich with delicate temptation, soft, but burnin’ with passion.

In the thick of the moment, their hands started roamin', greedy and sure—like they was tryna memorize every inch of you. They always had them big ol' hands, the kind that gripped your thighs like nothin', pushin' your body around like it weighed air. Feelin' their lips on your skin, slidin' over the silk, then findin' yours—it had you moanin' soft, breath catchin' in your throat. The feel of it all was too damn familiar.

"Hol' on," Smoke muttered, glancin' 'round like he was scannin' the treeline. "Not out here."

"Why? You scared, nigga?" Stack let out a low, rough chuckle, that devilish grin stretchin’ across his face as his mouth kept workin’ that sweet, sensitive spot on your neck—slow an’ sinful, like he knew just what he was doin’. He tugged you in closer, strong hands findin’ your waist as he leaned back against the hood of the car, real casual-like. The metal was warm from the engine, but it was nothin’ compared to the heat rollin’ off him—an’ Lord, you could feel that pressure buildin’ in his slacks, plain as day. Firm, thick, and waitin’.

“Don’t need nobody layin’ eyes on her. I don’t play ‘bout what’s mine—an’ you damn well know that.”

"Nigga, we ain't playin' when it come to her—,” Stack shot back, smooth as whiskey, eyes never leavin' you. “I’d beat a muhfucka down, no talkin’. Easy.”

Lettin' out a low laugh, you start draggin' a finger slow down your thigh, eyes bouncin' between the two of 'em.

“Y’all talkin’ like I ain’t standin’ right here,” you purred, voice syrupy sweet as molasses. You slipped from their grip, slow and deliberate, pullin’ the shawl from your shoulders and lettin’ it fall to the dirt like it ain’t cost a damn thing. “If they dumb ‘nough to be out here watchin’, then we oughta’ give ’em a lil’ show.”

With a soft grin, you slid the straps of your silk dress down, lettin’ it fall around your ankles, leavin’ you standin’ there in nothin’ but your underthings. Both of ‘em froze. That look in their eyes? Pure trouble. Jaws tight, muscles flexin’, like they were fightin’ every urge not to tear into you right then and there.

“Damn,” Stack pushed off the car, his voice thick when he muttered, “Pretty lil’ thing.”

He swept you up without missin’ a beat, landin’ a sharp smack on your behind that made you let out a startled laugh. He set you down on the hood of the car, the metal still warm beneath your thighs. Then his lips found your skin—trailin’ slow and sure down your front. His mouth was hot, even through the thin fabric, makin’ you shiver where you sat, half-laid out on that shiny, elegant hood like a gift waitin’ to be unwrapped. He nuzzled lower, breath warm, lips pressin’ through the cloth restin’ over your chest. His tongue flicked just enough to pull a gasp from your lips, your hips jerkin’ up toward his mouth like you didn’t have no shame.

Smoke let out a low breath, tension easin’ from his broad shoulders. He stood close, watchin’—dark eyes locked on yours—as his hand reached for yours, thumb drawin’ slow, lazy circles over your skin while he licked his lips like he was starvin’.

Breathless, your head fell back, eyes on the rustin’ roof beams of that old sawmill, breath comin’ shallow and quick. The cicadas screeched louder now, like the world was tryin’ its damnedest to drown y’all out. But it couldn’t. Not over the sounds you were makin’. Not over the feel of their hands on you.

Stack glanced up, eyes dark and heavy, full of heat. “You want this, baby?”

‘Course you nodded—barely though. Couldn’t even find your voice. Your fingers cradled the back of his neck, tuggin’ gentle, but firm enough to tell him yes. That’s when Stack leaned down again, kissin’ a slow trail up your belly, toward your thighs.

“Ain’t no goin’ back now—,” he drawled against your skin, shootin’ one last grin up at you. He hooked the tips of his fingers ’round the edge of your panties, draggin’ ‘em down nice and slow, ‘fore settlin’ in like a man on a mission. “We gon’ ruin ya’ good.”

And Lord, you wanted 'em to.

His dark eyes glazed over at the sight of your glistenin’, pulsin’ little button, soaked and achin’ for attention. He slung one of your legs over his shoulder, then sank right in—tongue teasin’ them folds before slidin’ up to your clit, lickin’ like he’d been starvin’ for you. Every stroke was intense, unhurried, and filled with a kind of reverence that made your breath hitch and a moan slip loose from your lips.

Stack had them strong, calloused hands grippin’ your thighs firm, keepin’ you open for him. That brown skin of yours was soft as sin against his palms, and he groaned low in his throat, mouth still workin’ you like his favorite meal. Ever since the first time, he knew he was addicted—couldn’t get enough of your thighs, couldn’t stay away from bein’ buried between ’em.

A hum rumbled deep in his chest when he felt you rub on his head, your hips twitchin’ as he devoured you, slow and greedy. He loved watchin’ you fall apart—loved the way your pretty little moans echoed off the walls like a hymn. You tasted so damn sweet on his tongue, he was damn near dizzy with it.

“Fuck. Elias.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed, refusin’ to come up for air. Didn’t mean he wasn’t watchin’ you though— both of ‘em watchin’ the way your face twisted up in pure pleasure. See, Stack was a student of your body, and he’d learned every little thing that made you melt. Smoke, grew impatient, he leaned against the hood and took a perked nipple in his mouth. Suckin’ and addin’ to your buildin’ pleasure.

Takin’ it like a prayer, chest risin’ with every shaky breath as he slid his middle and index fingers along your slick entrance. And when he worked ’em inside, it was like the world faded out—all that existed was sensation. You arched back, gaspin’ like you were drownin’ in him, beggin’ without words for more.

And Lord, he gave it.

He gave until your thighs were tremblin’, until his chin was glistenin’ with that holy nectar only you could give. He didn’t speak—just looked up at you with them deep eyes full of care and heat. Even with all that hunger, all that want, he still held you like you were precious.

But still, that sober mind of yours couldn’t help but feel a little shy, a little overwhelmed at how easy it was to come undone beneath him. Like he’d seen parts of you too tender, too raw. Like he was worshipin’ you—chastin’ you with every stroke of that tongue.

Smoke had moved in—quiet, steady, his eyes never leavin’ you.

“That’s ‘nough,” he said low, voice smooth like aged bourbon, but firm as steel. “Ya’ got her all warmed up. Now move on ‘long.”

Stack backed off with a smug little smirk, tongue runnin’ over his bottom lip. “Don’t take too long. She already tremblin’.”

And you were. Smug muthafucka. Your thighs, your hands, your breath—all of it flutterin’ like a moth to flame. He was a certified eater, somethin’ different.

Smoke stepped between your legs, thumb draggin’ across your cheek before his fingers slid into your hair, tiltin’ your head just how he wanted it. His gaze searched your face, slow and intense.

“I missed you, Silk.”

That sweetness caught you off guard.

He usually kept his feelin’s locked up tight, like he was scared to let too much show. Sure, he had his vulnerable moments—but this? The way he said it? It weren’t just words. It was low and honest, full of weight. Like it crawled straight outta his soul. You felt it in your chest, breath hitchin’, heart knockin’ hard against your ribs like it recognized somethin’ in him. Like it’d been waitin’ on that exact moment.

He was lookin’ at you different now. Eyes a bit softer. Jaw relaxed. Like he’d finally dropped whatever wall he’d been hidin’ behind. You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinkin’ back a tear you didn’t even know was there.

“I missed ya’ too,” you whispered, pullin’ closer till your chest brushed his. Your hands reached for his face, thumbs grazin’ along his jaw, tender. “So fuckin’ much.”

His arms came around you then—strong, warm, familiar. And for a second, the whole world got quiet. None but him breathin’ into your neck, and you holdin’ him like he might slip away again if you didn’t.

“You trust me?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe.”

“Nah, baby—,” he murmured, leanin’ in so close you could feel the heat of his mouth brushin’ yours. “You gone have to say it.”

“I trust ya’,” you whispered, and that was all he needed.

He kissed you then—deep, claimin’, the kind that made your toes curl. One hand stayed tangled in your hair, the other slidin’ down your back to press you closer, chest to chest. His mouth moved like he knew every part of you already, like he’d dreamed it a hundred times over and now he was finally starvin’ no more.

When he pulled back, your lips felt swollen, dazed, and he just looked at you for a second, real quiet, like he was tryin’ to memorize this moment before he ruined it.“Lay back f’r me—,” he drawled, voice thick as sin and twice as temptin’.

With even hesitatin’, you leaned back, stretchin’ out across that car hood like you belonged there. Moonlight slid over your skin, kissin’ it like silver fire—makin’ you shine just for him.

And Smoke? He got to work quick, fingers unbucklin’ his belt with practiced ease.

“Told ya’, Silk,” he muttered, hand slidin’ down to free himself, his voice low and hungry. “I don’t play ‘bout what’s mine—now lay real still and let me show ya’ just what that means.”

Lawd, it was a sight. Both them men. Built like sin dipped in honey. Shoulders broad, arms carved from hard work, and bodies that knew nothin’ but sweat and fight. Ain’t no fluff on ’em—just muscle, power, and pure heat. But it was what sat between his hips that had you strugglin’ to breathe. Long, thick, and pretty—veins standin’ proud like they was waitin’ for your touch. It pulsed like it remembered you, just as much as your body remembered him.

It’d been a minute since you laid eyes on it, let alone felt it. But your body didn’t care nothin’ ’bout time. Nah, it answered him loud and clear—heat rushin’ through you, thighs shiftin’, breath catchin’. You was embarrassed by how fast your want rose up, but damn if you could help it. You wanted him.

Eager. Desperate. Drenched in need.

And the worst part? He knew. They knew.

Stack was watchin’, strokin’ himself to the sight of you.

He was leaned back against the car, one hand workin’ slow, eyes locked on where Smoke had you laid out like a feast. Lips parted, breath shallow, dick heavy in his grip—he looked damn near feral, but patient. Like he was savorin’ every second before it was his turn.

His eyes traced every curve of you, glintin’ like heat lightning in the dark. “Look at our girl—,” he muttered under his breath, voice hoarse with want. “Laid out like a blessin’.”

Smoke, then stepped in between your legs, slow and sure, like a man approachin’ his altar. He gripped your thighs, thumbs pressin’ soft circles into your skin, and leaned down—mouth ghostin’ over your lips before he kissed you like he meant it. Like he’d missed it. Like he’d been thinkin’ ’bout nothin’ but you since the last time you let him in.

“Ain’t nothin’ else in this world I need more than this right here,” he murmured against your mouth, voice all thick molasses and heat.

Then he slid in—slow, deep, heavy. A groan rumbled out his chest, rollin’ over your skin like thunder as your body stretched around him, pullin’ him in tight. He moved with that Southern patience, like he had all night. Every stroke hit deep, tender and steady, makin’ you whimper, makin’ your eyes roll back.

“Elijah,” you whine softly.

“Mmm-hmm,” he breathed, eyes locked on yours, filled with that soft fire. “There she go,” one hand came up to cradle your jaw as he rocked into you. “Look at me, [Name]. Let me see ya’ fall ‘part.”

And you did.

Bitin’ your lip, body tremblin’, you let go beneath him. Let him love you how only Smoke could—full of control, full of reverence. When you clenched ‘round him, cryin’ his name like a prayer, he dipped his forehead to yours, ridin’ it out with you, stayin’ buried deep until every bit of his need poured into you slow and warm.

He pulled back, breathin’ hard, eyes heavy-lidded with affection and heat. But before the sweat even cooled on your skin—

“Move over, nigga,” came Stack’s voice, low and wild with a grin on his lips and sin in his eyes.

Barely catchin’ your breath, this crazy-ass boy went and hooked your leg up high, steppin’ between them thighs like he owned the whole damn place. Stack didn’t ask—he never did. He just took, like the firecracker he was. Picked you up like you weighed nothin’, holdin’ you flush against him, muscles flexin’ under your hands.

He’d always been the wild one—reckless, hungry for life, always lookin’ for the next thrill. And this? This position he had you in? Had you clingin’ to him like a lifeline. Arms wrapped tight ‘round his shoulders, legs locked at his waist, breath hitchin’ as his mouth got busy on your neck—kissin’, suckin’, bitin’ like he was claimin’ you all over again.

His hand slid down, rough and eager, guidin’ that thick wood into your heat—feelin’ every bit of what Smoke had left behind. And Lord, he growled, deep in his throat.

“Damn, ya’ messy,” he laughed, but there was nothin’ but hunger in his voice. “Been thinkin’ ’bout this all damn day.”

He didn’t ease in like Smoke. Nah—Stack hit like fire.

He filled you up with one smooth, greedy thrust, and you damn near lost your mind right then and there.

“Shit,” Stack hissed, head droppin’ to your shoulder as he held you up like nothin’. “You so tight ‘round me—clenchin’ like you missed it.”

And truth be told, you did.

His hands gripped under your thighs, holdin’ you steady while he started movin’—hips rollin’ like waves, not just slammin’ into you, but grindin’, hittin’ deep, hittin’ home. He wasn’t just tryin’ to fuck—he was tryin’ to make you feel it in your bones.

“Shit. Yes,” you moan ‘loud.

“Look at ya’,” he drawled, kissin’ your jaw, your ear, voice thick with pride. “Already shakin’ f’r me, baby. Damn. I ain’t even got started yet.”

He walked you to the side of the car, settin’ your back flat on the hood while his body hovered over yours—all heat and hunger. The stars above flickered like they was watchin’ in awe. Stack ran his tongue down your chest, takin’ his time, suckin’ at every dip of skin like he was memorizing it all over again.

“You know I love ya’, right?” he murmured against your breast, voice crackin’ soft like a secret. “Love how ya’ moan, how ya’ take me, how ya’ let me go wild wit’ it.”

Then he buried himself again, this time rougher—hips smackin’ against you as he let go of all that restraint. His hand reached down to circle your clit, thumb movin’ in perfect rhythm with each thrust, and your back arched clean off the car.

Cryin’ out his name, and he laughed—boyish and breathless.

“That’s right, baby. Say my name, say it loud. Let Smoke hear it too.”

Then you came hard, legs lockin’ around him, body shudderin’ while he kept drivin’ into you like a storm rollin’ through the bayou. Voice gone, body wrecked from one man and bein’ broken in by the next—but you loved it. Loved them. The way they touched you different, but held you the same. Like you were somethin’ precious. Somethin’ theirs.

And Stack? He didn’t stop ‘til he gave you every last drop he had—spillin’ into you like it was his God-given right. Chest to chest, skin sticky with sweat, he collapsed on top of you with a low groan.

“Damn near saw the Lord just now,” he muttered against your collarbone, laughin’ breathlessly.

Smoke came up behind y’all, kissin’ your temple, that slow smile on his lips.

“You good, baby?” he asked, hand slidin’ over your stomach, down to where the mess of love and sweat clung between your thighs.

All you could do was nod, eyes heavy-lidded, lips parted, heart poundin’.

Because between the two of them—you ain’t never known a love so wild, so deep, so Southern. Your body was still tremblin’, nerves hummin’ from bein’ stretched and filled by the both of ‘em. Sweat clung to your skin, coolin’ in the soft night breeze, and your breath came out in shaky little puffs like you’d just outrun a storm.

Stack was the first to move—he always was. Still catchin’ his breath, he lifted off you careful-like, like he didn’t wanna let go but knew you needed space to come back to yourself. His palm slid over your side, reverent, his touch whisper-light.

“Aight now, c’mon baby,” he said softly, voice deep and syrupy. “Let’s get ya’ cleaned up, yeah?”

He reached into the backseat, grabbin’ one of them soft flannel shirts he always kept around, and gently wiped between your thighs—tender, like you were made of glass. You winced a little, and he stilled.

“I got ya’,” he whispered, kissin’ your knee, your hip, your stomach like he was sayin’ sorry without the words. “I ain’t mean to go so rough—just… damn, I missed ya’.”

Reachin’ down, your hand tanglin’ in his beard, thumb brushin’ his skin.

“I know, baby. Me too,” you murmured.

Smoke came round next, eyes darker now, but soft. He crouched beside the car hood, layin’ a gentle hand on your cheek. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, then your jaw, eyes studyin’ you like you were his favorite book.

“You good, Silk?” he asked, voice quiet, almost boyish. “Need some water? Somethin’ sweet?”

Shakin’ your head slow, still dazed, eyes glossy with love, you answer him softly. “I don’t need nothin’ else. Just y’all. I love y’all.”

Stack came back, slidin’ his strong arms under you like he’d done it a thousand times. Lifted you like you didn’t weigh more’n a breeze, settin’ you gentle in his lap on the old blanket stretched out in the back of the car seats. Your back rested warm against his chest, his heartbeat steady behind you.

Smoke slid in close beside you, stretchin’ out with a little grunt as he curled up at your side. His palm found your thigh, drawin’ slow, soothing circles like he was tryin’ to anchor you right there with him.

Above y’all, the stars were shinin’ like spilled sugar across black velvet—bright, scattered, holy. The cicadas had gone quiet, leavin’ behind nothin’ but the hush of wind and the thump of three hearts beatin’ close.

“We love you too,” Smoke said low, his voice thick like molasses on a warm biscuit. “An’ we gon’ keep on lovin’ you like this… ‘til lonely ain’t nothin’ but a memory.”

Stack leaned down, pressin’ a soft kiss to your bare shoulder, arms still wrapped tight ‘round your waist.

“Our girl,” he murmured against your skin. “Always have been. Always will be.”

And you—tired, full, wrapped in their warmth like a lullaby—just smiled. Sunk deeper into the cradle of their bodies, heart settled, soul quiet. Let yourself drift, safe and loved, right there in the arms of two men who’d burn the whole damn South down for you.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

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bleufu1 · 16 days ago

Text

ALL MINE.

IN WHICH..: good ol’ preacher boy aka Sammie Moore, isn’t as calm an’ loses his cool for a bit.

Mississippi 1932

Sammie x Black!Reader

| Smut, 18+, NSFW, Oral(r!receiving), a lil possessive, semi-public (iykyk), talking through it, reader is addressed as ‘sugar’(idea from@gweelczz 🫶), sammie being a fein..(BEST EATER.)|

The barn was hot. people dancing, singin’ you name it. You had some couples serenading on the floor in their own worlds and some young folk swingin’ to their hearts content.

Smoke and Stack was busy lookin around the place making sure no one with a chip on they shoulder came in ruining the night, cornbread and slim was off arguing somewhere over god knows what. Annie was maintaining the bar and food the best she could, with some help of Pearline in the back.

And our good ol’ Sammie, known locally as Preacher boy, up on the stage strumming his guitar till his fingers bled. One of the two things that made this boy happy. That was playing the blues, and her.

She was his everything. The reason he lived and breathed. Hell she’d be the death of him if she wanted to. They met when they were young — ain’t know what love was but damn sure felt it. Seeing her for the first time Sammie thought he’d seen an angel sent as a gift from the savior himself, that if heaven on earth was real she was the proof.

Sammie was sweet to her. Buying her flowers any chance he got. Always spending the time he had with her, singin’ to her and being in her space, not that she minded. She cared and catered for him the same soft way he did with her. She loved that boy and he felt it. When he layed with her, when she kissed him quick, when he loved on her. The feeling was mutual and it was strong. Everyone knew she was his, and he was hers.

Everyone knows her as _____.— But Sammie knows her as ‘Sugar’. An old nickname he gave her for her sweet face an’ the smooth silk of her voice that gave her anything she wanted. People always told Sammie that voice of hers would get you to do anything under the sun, and boy did it.

From up on the stage, strumming his guitar to the people of the joint Sammie could see her clear as day. Watching her shift from the bar getting a drink, to on the floor swaying her body to the music. The way she moved was captivating — made heads spin like a wheel. Her waist rolled to the beat on the ground. Hips swayed like waves — she caught every beat. Sammie couldn’t stop staring hell nobody could. That’s the thing with Sugar. She takes control of the ones around her without even trying.

Sammie kept playing, keeping his eyes on her. Then he felt a disturbance. Another thing Stack taught him was, never let another man think he gon take your spot — especially if he knows the seat is yours.

Sammie watched as a Man, stood about average height, making his way to her. He slid behind her, grinding against her keeping up with her rhythm. This Irked Sammie.

“Now what n’ the hell..” sammie’s voice came out low, and with a tone behind it he couldn’t quite place.

He ain’t the only one who noticed, Smoke and Stack peeped it too, making eye contact with Sammie. Sammie gave em’ a nod — ‘i got it handled.’

Sugar finally noticing the man, pushed him off. He ain’t even cute, ain’t cuter than her man she could tell you that much. “The fuck you doin’, huh? Fuck outta here—” She got in the man’s face, voice loud but stern and straight. She ain’t know who this man was an’ ain’t wanna get to know him either.

Like someone had be listening, Sammie came in and got in between Sugar and the Man. His face relaxed but his eyes saying somethin’ different. The man eyed him up and down before giving a sly smirk to the side of his face.

“What you gon’ do little preacher boy’ huh?”. “Ya ain’t but so big, fuck you gon’ do?”

Sammie was hot. Not the dance till your feet start to cry hot. More like i’m bout’ to clean the floor with this fool if he keep fuckin’ with me and mines. Random ass man gon’ come up in here, then got the nerve to hit up on a woman he knows ain’t his. Yeah, Sammie wasn’t having that. That’s his girl. His Sugar. His and ain’t gon’ be no sharing. He can’t risk giving up the one thing that gave him life other than oxygen itself.

“I advise you gets to goin’ — best for ya right about now.”

The man laughed in Sammie’s face. Doubled over and everything, like ol’ preacher boys act was the funniest thing in the world at this exact moment. “Or what, boy? You gon’ size me up in front of yo’ bitch?—” Sammie ain’t give him the time of day before he swung. A brawl set loose. Sammie knocked the man down, sending haymakers straight to the face. Sammie wasn’t no fighter — but he damn sure learned a thing or two from his cousins.

People were everywhere. Some tryna get away and spread out, others tried to break up the fight. The man swung on Sammie, busting his lip. Sammie punched back right on his jaw. The fight continued to cause chaos until Smoke came down yellin’.

“Fuck goin on — Get up boy!” Stack trailed behind, yoking up Sammie from off the man. Both were equally messed up but it looked like Sammie got more punches in.

“Well what you waitin’ for? Get yo’ ass on!” Stack grabbed the man and forced him out. Smoke looked at Sammie but Sammie ain’t look back. He was too busy staring at her.

They both made eye contact, she looked at him like she just seen a different side of him. Before anyone could say anything to him, he dragged Sugar to the back of the barn — closing and locking the door. He looked up and seen her with this look on her face, an’ she ain’t look happy.

“What the fuck was that, huh? We causing riots now?” placing a hand on her hip she eyed Sammie down. “Well? What’s your problem Sammie moore?” He stayed quiet for a second before opening his mouth.

“Boy you better say sumn’ for i get to thinking. Ain’t no reason to beat up a man — i understand why but there’s a better way to do it dammit.” Sammie looked down to the floor, body still but stern. The silence was tense — “Sammie speak the fuck up!-”

“He tried touchin’ what’s mines.”

Huh. Sugar was taken aback, not expecting that response. She stepped up slowly, lifting up sammie’s face with both of her hands. Did he feel threatened?She looked at him, his posture tense, eyes dark. Like he was thinkin. His breath fast from the fight and chest heaving. Sugar moved one of her hands to his chest. “You know i’m yours sammie, n’ill always will.” Brushing her thumb on his face.

He took her hand in his, lowering it from his face. He grabbed her by the waist, bringing her closer. Bringing his face down to hers, his breath fanning over her lips. “Yeah? You mines?” His voice low, smooth like fresh honey an’ melted butter, made Sugars knees almost buckle in. Nodding her head, Sugar wraps her arms around his neck.

Sammie’s hands started wandering, from her waist up to her sides and back down, lower. Then he started grabbing. Gripping at the fat of her sides, moving his hands to her ass and holding on. Sugars breathing quickened, she looked up into his eyes one more time. They were low, dark an’ filled with thoughts best to be confessed at the lords house.

Sammie kept touchin’ her, feeling her up. he knew what he was doing — and knew that it was working. he had her panting, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. He ain’t have much experience but he’s done enough with her to know what she likes. Biting his lip and holding her still by her hips, Sammie starts kissin’ on her shoulders.

It started soft, little pecks that made her breath hitch. as he continued up, the kisses started to get more deep, more intense. he slowly started trailing them to the barrels, keeping her in place. Sammie started sucking, bitting’n licking anything he could.

Poor Sugar was a mess. she started sweating, thighs were pressed together an’ her breathing was ragged. she held him by the neck, trying to push him closer into her neck somehow. as sammie more into her neck, sugar tried bucking her hips a little trying to feel something.

Sammie noticed, holding her hips in place. he looked up from her neck, looking at her and god she looked good. the sweat on her making her glisten in the light. “Aht aht — not yet baby. lemme make you feel good first alright’?”

“But sammie—”

Shutting her up with a kiss. It was deep, laced with lust and passion. he held her by the neck to push deeper into it. she held onto his back, her other hand anchoring her from falling. sammie slowly trailed his hands up her dress, raking it up her thighs. sugar stoped him mid act.

“w-wait sammie i been dancing all night now, i ain’t even get to freshen up-” cut off with a kiss again.

“Listen sugar, you’re beautiful. Regardless. I just wanna taste ya’ yeah? Lemme taste?” That voice, deep and sensual even without him trying. Makes him sound like he’s beggin’ and demanding at the same time.

he went under her dress, hiking her legs over his shoulders. met with sight of her he damn neat moaned himself. “like i said..beautiful. made just fo’ me.”

His breath fanned over her, till he finally dove in. And baby he was hungry.

He ate like she would be his last meal. Suckin’ and lickin’ at the same time. Stimulating her everywhere. sugar let out broken moans, holding onto a nearby shelf for support. keeping her other hand on sammie’s head.

“Oh — gods sammie..”

“Please baby..so good..”

“mmm..fuckk..”

Anything in the book to keep her distracted. sammie had her in a whirl. he hit a spot that had her arched, screaming loud. sammie wrapped his hands around her thighs an’ onto her waist keeping her in place.

“Don’t run from it, just let go — i’m right here alright? Let it be baby..” sugars grip on the shelf felt like she’d break it if she grabbed too hard. “oh, fuck yes — damn baby..”

Sammie started using his fingers, switching between that and using his mouth. having Sugar in a daze, she felt like she was floating. sammie looked up at her for a brief second. “All this for me right? yeah?”

Rapidly nodding and yessin’ — “Mhm, all you baby, please!”

“Say it again for me.”

“All you, n’its all yours — all of it!”

“mhm. all of it.”

He let out a low grumble, adding to the sense. her holding onto his shoulders for support. bucking into his mouth as much as she could.

“mhm, let go for me. ride it out.”

Sammie held onto her just as she did to him, like she’d slip and disappear if he did. he licked and rubbed all he could — loving her with all his might. like he was singing to her, making her feel him. making her feel his love physically. he wanted to make sure she only remembered him. that her body reacted even if she wasn’t touching him, that all he had to do was be in the room.

She bucked into his mouth more the best she could due to her restraints. she moaned and groaned, voice broken up by how loud she was screaming. She scratched his shoulders, back arching high off the wood — her movements getting more erratic and crazy. thighs shaking against sammie’s head, hips twitching. “Oh! Yes sammie i-i’m almost—!”

“Yeah, there you go baby. all’ for me.” he muttered against her. Holding him, she rode herself on his mouth. sammie licking up all the mess he made.

Getting up slowly, he lifts her up too an’ into his chest. “You still with me hun’?” a tired nod as a response made sammie laugh a little. “Maybe be nicer to me next time yeah?” with a lil’ laugh, Sugar looks up at him.

Sugar took him by his face planting a soft, lazy kiss to his face, hugging him after. squeezing him, he hugs back equally with the same warmth. she looks into his eyes with love and affection. His baby.

“All yours, Sammie. Nobody else alright?”

“Yeah. All mine.”

I hated this sm. 💔

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