Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Janaina Medeiros
Monterey Bay Aquarium
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Sweet Seals For You, Always
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NASA
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Sade Olutola
Peter Solarz
titsay
JVL
Cosmic Funnies
$LAYYYTER
#extradirty
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
noise dept.
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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@erikftglitter
Masterlist
Erik “Killmonger” Stevens
Content.
Erik dealing w/ his brat. [2]
Sorry [2] [3]
Fallin’ Out | Two
The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens’ New Wife
Antidote
Terry Richmond
Christmas in Winona Springs
Terry Knows…
Terry Always Knows..
Black Marvel Cinematic Universe
Sam Wilson as a boyfriend
You watched a movie with a 90% black cast and chose the mid looking white boy to simp over
This happens in all pop culture spaces. Once a nonblack person is introduced people lose their minds
I need more fics written based on this fact but make it Smoke or Erik & modern. Thank you 🩷
Maybe Kari needs to do just that…
Ch16 | The Piteous Life of Dr. Stevens' New Wife
Killmonger AU
Created By: Erikftglitter
“Kari are you sure you just don’t want to fly?” Erik asked as he gathered her luggage. The bus was one hell of a journey and it didn’t calm his nerves. He’d rather her be on a strict, safe flight, one that could be done rather quickly.
“I’ve never flown before.” Kari admitted. “I thought about it but the bus ticket was included.” She shrugged her shoulders. She was just focusing on not tearing up in front of him.
Being newly engaged and having to leave felt horrible. Excruciating actually. She was already anxious about traveling, but now she was anticipating the separation anxiety.
As if Erik could he read her mind he took her hand and kissed it. “I’m so happy that you’re doing this baby.”
The validation in Erik’s tone soothed her nerves.
“I’m going to miss you.” Kari whispered softly. She’d been more emotional than usual and Erik definitely was aware of it.
“I’ll be right here waiting for you to come back.” He titled her chin up to look at him. “Now stop crying.” He placed a gentle kiss on her pouted lips.
He glanced at her ring and felt that familiar tug in his chest, pulling at his usually cool heart. He felt a bit better about her leaving now that they were engaged. There was no need for people to ponder on her relationship status; she was preparing to a wife. His wife.
“You don’t want to come?” Kari asked, half joking but her eyes did hold hope.
“I’d come in a heartbeat Kitten. But you know that’s not on the offering table right now.” He sighed. Kill wouldn’t let her leave without him, but Erik was genuinely trying his best to not interfere.
It’s one weekend.
“Now come on I don’t need you missing your bus.” Erik got her suitcase out of his car first then opened the door for Kari.
“You call me for anything. You hear me?” He kissed her forehead, holding her tightly. This was harder than he expected it to be, especially when Kari’s eyes looked at him so sad. It was making him soft.
“Okay.” Kari spoke. This was a great accomplishment for her and she was doing this for the future of her school district. She couldn’t let her own emotions overshadow that.
“You forgetting something?” Erik narrowed his eyes at her. Even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it as often as she did, he looked forward to hearing it from Kari again and again.
“No?” Kari questioned. “I have my wallet. I packed extra everything and oh-! I love you.” She beamed. She watched Erik’s posture straighten and her eyes twinkled.
Erik stayed at the station until the bus took off. As the bus drove away from his view he heard the familiar voice in his head.
Why the fuck did you let her go?
Not today. He sat there, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles colored white and silenced his thoughts. He’d have to go back to silence until Kari was back home. It had only been five minutes and he was already triggered.
_________________________________
When the bus finally arrived to Washington, Kari settled into the small hotel room with a quiet sigh, the weight of the day slowly lifting from her shoulders. She pulled out her phone and started recording a video, for her own archive but also for Erik.
“Okay, so first thing, I love this little bakery I found near my hotel. This was seriously the best lemon loaf I’ve ever eaten.” She smiled, holding up the yellow square for the camera.
“I bought a couple to take back, but honestly, I might eat them all before I leave.” Kari found herself wandering around and decided to end the video. Trying to ignore the feeling just made it worse.
Meanwhile, back at work, Erik’s usual calm composure was at risk. Without Kari around, the warmth that usually grounded him was wearing off. Kill was annoyed and everyone’s presence annoyed him.
Halfway through the evening, Erik’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and saw Kari’s name. Without hesitation, he silently excused himself and walked towards one of the secluded areas.
He found himself calmer as he replayed the short video a few times. He made a mental note of Kari’s lemon loaf fixation. The video only teased his own fixation, his need to hear her voice. They needed to hear her voice.
That evening, Kari sat in the hotel room, practicing lines and questions for the meetings ahead. Her nerves had settled into a steady rhythm of preparation, each word rehearsed to perfection.
She whispered to herself, “How do you see the future of education evolving in this district? What are the biggest challenges you‘ll face?”
Her phone rang again. This time it was Erik calling from home.
“Listen,” he said, voice low but steady, “if anything feels off or you need anything, you call me immediately. I mean it.”
Kari smiled, touched by the concern behind his words. “I will. Thank you Erik.”
He chuckled softly. “Now show me that set you got before you left, Kitten.”
_________________________________
I shortened this chapter due to the leading events that’ll be released on Wednesday/Thursday. Thank you for supporting this series even after the unexpected hiatus. This was my first series in years when it was first released and for that reason I am super possessive over its development. But I am also hypercritical as a growing writer. Kari & Erik will be less neglected and don’t forget that @eternalglitter is now my main blog, but this series will conclude on this blog! Love yall soooo much 💚
@theesmartblonde @ms-mosely-ifunastyyy
@ziayamikaelson @yourstruly711
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@spicypiscessss @idyllicbarb @bendoverboo18
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I’m back and I’m better 💚
♫ Have Ya Babies | Elijah “Smoke” Moore
(9) Ooh, I finally got you right here
♫ Now Playing: Calling on You by Jon B
loop it a few times lol
Smoke held Aspen close for the next week. He grew fond of having his usual cool, empty, place accompanied by the warmth of a woman. His woman.
She left for meetings now and then, but each night, she came back without protest. He’d cleared an entire section of his closet for her, shirts folded beside his, her scent already seeping into his space.
At night, he held her like she might vanish. And sometimes, when her breathing slowed against his chest, the ghosts of his past quieted just enough to let him rest.
Sometimes he could think about his childhood without flinching.
Other times, it gripped his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. He’d never let her see that though.
“Hey, babe. Bite this.”
Aspen stood in the doorway of his office, holding up a green ball on a stick.
He looked at her, then at the thing. “What is that?”
“It’s a cake pop.” Her grin was bright, proud.
He leaned forward, humoring her. The sweetness hit his tongue—then the salt. The texture of crushed shells in his mouth, his father’s voice echoing from somewhere buried deep: Walk on them.
Elijah’s chest heaved with anxiety, completely overwhelmed with a suppressed memory.
The old Moore property smelled like gasoline and cigarettes. Richard Moore made deals with devils and called it business. Trudy Moore had been the one good thing about him until he eventually broke her too.
She’d carried her pregnancy to term without ever knowing there were two of them. Lack of access to city services and being denied appointments due to living in the deep country.
Two boys born from a woman who never got the chance to hold them.
And a man who would make sure they felt it every single day.
“You okay?” Aspen’s hand came to his shoulder, grounding him. Her voice softened. “Elijah?”
He blinked, the memory fading like static. “I don’t like pistachio,” he murmured.
Her eyes widened. “Oh—I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
He cut her off gently, pulling her against him. “What ya saying sorry for? You like it, that’s all that matters.” He kissed her temple. The taste lingered like metal in his mouth.
He hated pistachios.
“What you got planned for today?” she asked, studying him.
He smirked, tugging her closer by her belt loops. “Ya already know, baby.”
“Well,” she said, smile curving, “I need you for a second.”
“Need me? I’m always here.” His tone was soft, teasing, but his gaze stayed on her face like he was memorizing it.
“I need you to follow me.” She tugged on his hand, eyes pleading. “Please?”
He stared at the computer screen, weighing the world outside of her against the one standing right in front of him. Then he sighed. “Alright.”
Aspen beamed immediately her arms shooting to drag his. Smoke followed her to the direction of the kitchen. He could see the decorations in the threshold of the room from where he stood.
He froze.
Smoke could tell where it was going from the familiar black and white balloons strategically aligned. It was the same colors of his company. The company that just turned ten years old.
Aspen turned to him, toothy excitement. “Come on.”
In the middle of the counter sat a white box with a note:
Open Me :)
He met her eyes. She nodded encouragement.
The lid lifted—and his breath hitched.
“Happy Anniversary, Moore Entertainment!”
the frosting read, but what stopped him wasn’t the writing.
It was the photo pressed above it. Him and Elias, who wore a bedazzled smile in contrast to his own small smile. Just barely 19 with their first studio apartment, the one they’d turned into an office before they even had furniture.
His throat felt tight.
He and Elias built a whole empire from that room. Brick by brick. Pain by pain. He never reflected much on the work they’ve done, always too busy doing other tasks to ensure that the empire doesn’t crumble.
“I hope it’s not too much,” Aspen said softly from behind him.
He shook his head, words scraping his throat. “I don’t even know how you pulled this off.” His voice low, barely audible. “I appreciate this more than you know.”
Aspen stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You work so hard, Elijah. You’ve accomplished so much. I’m so proud of you.”
He didn’t move for a long time, just breathed in the moment. The rhythm of it steadied him. When he finally spoke, it was quiet. “Thank you, Aspen. A million times.”
She gripped him tighter.
He softly peeled her arms away and turned her body around to face him. He tipped her chin up with a single finger. “Don’t go soft on me now,” he muttered, but the words carried no edge. Just teasing her newly glossy eyes.
“You need to know how far you’ve come,” she whispered, finally leaning up to his him.
He caught her waist, deepening it, grounding himself in her softness, her warmth. When he pulled away, his voice was low, almost hoarse.
“As much as I love this cake, babygirl,” he murmured, “I’m not hungry for that right now.”
Her smirk faltered into something breathless. “Then what do you want?”
His gaze darkened. “To give you what you deserve.”
He lifted her effortlessly, mouth catching hers again as he carried her toward the bedroom.
He walked slowly, dragged his feet up and down, Aspen thought it was to solidify the moment. Giving her time to retreat, but Aspen was surer than sure. If she had to spell it out and write it backwards she would.
Elijah sat her down on the bed gently. He looked at her as if asking a question without words. She nodded.
The room felt warmer now, filled with the heavy tension of the unexpected. Aspen reached for him but he held her hands in place kissing her wrist gently.
“Been waiting for you.” He whispered gently. “Not just this,” he kissed alongside her jaw. “You.”
Aspen’s back arched as his teeth grazed against her neck, his tongue leaching at the sensitivity in her neck.
“C’mon ‘lijah p-pleaseee,”
Elijah chuckled softly, which only extended her irritation. “Don’t even know what ya begging for baby.”
Aspen groaned. She thrashed her legs in annoyance but they stiffened the minute Elijah pulled back to really look at her.
“You gone learn that’s not how you get your way.” One of his arms being used to support himself came to turn her head towards him.
“Ya hear me??” Aspen nodded quickly.
“What? Your tongue caught?” He mocked, pulling her into another kiss, slipping his tongue inside her mouth. Aspen moaned against his mouth.
Elijah shifted his body to pull Aspen’s loose joggers down, yanking her panties down at the same time. He expertly kept her in place while his lips held her hostage.
His fingers grazed against her warm skin and she jolted. Aspen’s knees bent forward instinctively, making Elijah pull away from her lips.
“You already know that I hate that. Open up gorgeous.” His eyes low. “Please.”
As if her body was automatically accustomed to the request, Aspen’s legs opened.
“Such a good girl.” He praised. If Aspen could form a coherent sentence surely she’d still be speechless.
He smirked at the audible approval of his words. “I know what you been needing baby. I know.” He whispered with such tenderness that Aspen could cry.
His words, his fingers softly rubbing against her clit, his lips grazing her neck, she could hear the world spin.
“I know baby,” he nipped at her neck after Aspen’s moans became jagged.
“I know this is why you wore that dress in the first place,” he chuckled once more. “I know this why you been testing waters even when you truly knew better,” Elijah grazed two fingers along her opening.
“Ain’t that right?” He laughed at Aspen’s bucking hips.
“Say, “that’s right Elijah and I’m sorry.” Elijah entered his fingers at an antagonizing pace.
“I-I’m sorry Elijah and y-you’re right,” Aspen breathlessly gasped.
“That’s all I needed baby.” He sped his fingers up loving the sloppy wet sounds he worked from her.
Aspen’s knees trembled as she felt her climax approach but Elijah pushed them open.
“Just feel it,” he urged, angling his fingers upwards.
“E-eliijah!” His name curled on her lips as she came. He milked the rest of it out here, loving the way her lips kept parted.
“Let me clean you up baby,” he grunted as he seen her glistening lips exposed just for him.
He lowered his head between her legs and gently pressed his tongue to her folds. He moaned as he licked along her slickness.
Aspen’s hands shot to his head as he began to suckle around her clit.
“Shit, Smoke!” She yelped but he continued. His hands gripped her thighs tightly. “I-I mean Elijah,” she corrected.
He hummed satisfactorily but didn’t halt his actions. His tongue lapped at her entrance until Aspen could feel another orgasm approaching.
But just as she loosened her grip on him and began to chase the vastly approaching climax, he stopped—
She wanted to protest, wanted to yell, but Elijah pulled his t-shirt over his head and she lost her ammunition.
The waistband of his briefs were the only thing on her mind. She thought about the conversation with Adrienne, “Is it heavy?”
Between his stare and the swelling in his briefs, Aspen knew that answer was a definite yes.
Elijah moved slow, or at least that’s how it felt to Aspen. His removed his pants slowly, starred at her heaving, naked body.
He reached for his briefs, “You sure this what you want Aspen?”
Aspen nodded her profusely. “Please babyyy I need you.” She confessed.
Smoke let out a deep breath before letting his member spring free. Was it heavy? Aspen felt her words clog in her throat. It was beyond hefty.
Brown, thick, and a length that made Aspen twitch with a phantom-like feeling. She was starting to understand why he was so hesitant about springing this free.
He grabbed the base of his dick gently and dragged it along Aspen’s wetness, seasoned by her own cum and his saliva.
“I only want to hear you sound pretty for me,” he teased the head of his cock to Aspen’s entrance. “Don’t push me out, just let it all out for daddy. Okay?” He smiled softly as he pushed the head in.
Aspen’s hands immediately shot to his, the burning stretching her skin even with her arousal. Smoke was huge even by Aspen’s standards.
“It’s okay, I’m not in a rush. I want you to feel it.” He kissed down as he pushed in a few more inches.
“Oh-ahhh.” Elijah monitored her choked moans consistently as he entered his full length.
“Tell me when to move. You deserve it all.” He kissed down, carefully not to move anymore than necessary.
“Move.” And just as simple as someone could flip a switch, Elijah pulled out halfway and drove back inside, forcing a loud moan out of Aspen.
“Oh my,” Aspen choked on her words as the burning stretch departed and the pleasure approached.
Elijah closed his own eyes as he felt her grip tightly around him. “Fuck!” He groaned into her ear. His dick slammed repeatedly in the same spot that had Aspen’s mouth moaning nonsense.
His forehead came down to hers, his hips never halting, “You needed daddy to give you this?” He grunted.
“Yes daddyyy feel s’good,” Aspen’s eyes began to water, body becoming warmer with the pleasure.
“Cum for me baby.” He pleaded, his pace increasing harshly. In contrast, his tone remained deceptively sweet, “come on,” he pleaded. “Please.”
Aspen’s body shook as she felt the stream of her release coming. Elijah pulled out and hurriedly rubbed her clit to support the mess, pushing her to squirt all over his abdomen and herself.
“FUCCCK!” She gasped. He didn’t stop, even as her legs danced around, he watched every drop come out before turning her around.
“Ya grab me if it’s too much, otherwise I’m about to put you straight to sleep.” He laughed at his own words before guiding his moistened member back to her dripping cunt.
Aspen’s arch deepened. Maybe in anticipation? Love? Maybe the latter because as he entered again she seen cupid himself with a bow and an arrow.
“Yea baby throw it to me.” He encouraged as Aspen matched his thrusts. “This pussy so good baby.” He praised as his thrusts sped up.
Like clockwork Aspen’s hands reached back to slow him down and he took both in his.
“Un uh.” He grunted disapprovingly so. He pushed her arch deeper and listened for the high pitches to leave her body, pushing her face into one of his pillows.
“Elllijaaahhh,” she sang into the pillow, tears wetting the material.
“Yea?” He grinned, sharping his angle, earning a high pitched squeal from Aspen.
“Daddddyyyy puhleaseee” she muffled against the pillow.
“Come on cum for me pretty girl. Wet it all up for me,” his own breath shaking as his hips sputtered.
“Cum with me come on.” He demanded, mustering up a new burst of energy.
“D-daddyy!” She screamed into the pillow as she chased her own release. Elijah lost grip on her wrist. He held her hips from either side and crashed into her with a brutal speed before releasing inside of her.
He emptied the last of his release before gently pulling out of her. He pushed her gently to lie flat before walking to the bathroom.
He warmed a clean towel to quickly wipe himself before returning back to Aspen who lied soundlessly.
He lifted her body and was met with a disapproving groan. “I know. Just give me five minutes.” He reassured.
He sat her gently on the toilet, let her use the bathroom, and wiped her down while she sat there barely coherent.
He put the bonnet she’d left on the vanity on her dampened curls and picked up her slump body. He carried her to another bedroom and pulled the covers over her.
“Told you it was bed time.” He chuckled as he got in the bed with her. He got a groan in response and then the room was filled with barely audible snoring.
Elijah let sleep take over him as well. That was one way to celebrate his anniversary. With Aspen and surely she was his to keep.
_________________________________
@thefutureemmywinner @coldeforprez @rolemodelshit @tnychellee @gunznroses4life @bananajoeclone @mayday39 @tafuller @storiesbyasl @6666kayy @anotherdayof-sun @cdotmvkspaz @cchampangemamii @hipplerester @katezy2x
About to start threatening y’all like “update or else…”
About to start threatening y’all like “update or else…”
micheal b jordan at gun range 10/10
Things like this shouldn’t be so hot but alas, I am feeling things
Erik fic loading 🫦
When Words Fail | Erik “Killmonger” Stevens
Erik does not speak in riddles. Doesn’t like too much complexity, but he will show you exactly what happens when your words fail.
_________________________________
Tonight was supposed to be perfect. You and Erik were hosting a barbecue. Everyone was healthy, happy, and freed their schedules just for a chance to be surrounded by the people they loved the most.
Erik’s best friends and their wives and a few of your closest friends and their spouses. This was supposed to be fun. But here you and Erik were on the opposite side of each other not addressing one another.
You two were indifferent since the morning. A small disagreement has now boiled over into the evening. Usually, you’d have time to talk to each other, fuck it out, and be cool again by the next morning. This was different.
Erik had to be up early to barbecue and you had last minute errands to do for your guests’ drink menu. That left no time to address the problem and it was clear by noon that neither of you cared to fix the issue.
The original agreement was to wear cohesive outfits, but Erik decided to dress himself in a plain white shirt with shorts, ignoring your request to match.
Two could play that game.
You’d match him alright. So here you were in a backless white romper with your hair down instead. He didn’t say a word but his stare held weight when you appeared downstairs for the first time.
You were watching something mindless on your phone as you prepared the drinking glasses from the bar. You could smell the salivating scent from the grill airing through the house and sighed. He’d always bring you a piece from the first batch to “taste” it, but you knew that it was just one of his favorite gestures to do.
You hated being into it, but you would not be the one to cave first. He was the one who was short with you. The least he could do is apologize and send a rib inside.
Erik’s eyes burned your skin when you walked past him in your backyard, stepping on your tippy toes to reach for something near the window. He kissed his lips silently but didn’t say anything.
When you gave up and went back inside you weren’t expecting him to put the speaker down for you.
Silently, of course. Stubborn as always.
Your curls could be tighter and you wanted your makeup to last, already knowing that this night would end up with you being drunk under your own roof.
You waited for your curlers to warm as you refreshed your makeup. Pressing powder under your eyes, adding white into your waterline, something that drove that man downstairs crazy.
You lined your lips with your favorite brown lip liner and paired it perfectly with a baby pink gloss. The combo that fueled your confidence. It was also the reason that you were on birth control.
You curled your hair quietly, thinking about how long you two planned this event and sighed.
Erik’s footsteps were louder to your ears than usual. Almost like he was announcing himself before entering your shared bedroom. He found you in the bathroom and just starred. He walked past you, grabbed something from his side of the vanity, but at the last second, almost like he was considering not to, he slapped your ass and walked away.
“Change.”
You jolted forward, bracing yourself on the sink and shook your head. Visually taken back. Change? Right before people started to show up? You considered both sides of the night and muffled a frustrated scream.
Your titties did try to peak through the fabric and the stinging of your ass served as a subtle reminder.
You decided on white shorts with a simple white top. Still you, still matching Erik, and genuinely more comfortable. You hated when he was right.
When you reentered the kitchen you noticed the rib steaming from its place on the counter. An ode from Erik that he was still yours. Still there even when he was upset.
He didn’t look up, but you knew he was waiting for you to crack first.
As guests begin to arrive, you and Erik’s feud was put aside. You hugged all your friends, complimenting their outfits. It was so nice to see everyone and even better to be with each other rather than being at some longue with others.
One of your besties, Lara, softly glanced in Erik’s direction. She turned back to you. “After all these years he’s still obsessed with you.” She laughed, hitting you softly.
A few others laughed too. You looked over your shoulder to see what they were looking at. Your man was holding a conversation with someone’s husband, but his eyes were closed on you.
You shook your head. “Girl enough about me. How’s the new job treating you?”
The small talk continued and the drinks were poured. Everyone groaned over Erik’s food which he greedily accepted.
He sat next to you on your outdoor furniture once everyone started to mingle in one area.
“Man what you put on these ribs?” Rick, Janet’s husband, asked while practically licking his fingers.
“A little bit of everything. Then wifey taste tests for me.” He answered his eyes now focused on your lips.
Your lids fluttered under his gaze so you decided to look elsewhere.
Conversations started to spiral over to different subjects but all you could feel was the tension radiating between you and Erik. You refilled your drink to give you something to do.
You hadn’t heard the exchange between Erik and Rick once you walked away.
“You good?” Rick asked Erik, watching his gaze not leave your body.
“Yeah.” Erik sucked his teeth. You were on your third drink which means you were very close to being too drunk. Erik knew this but you weren’t speaking to him.
“Just be careful. Last time I intervened Janet’s good time we ended up having RJ.” He admitted.
Erik shook his head. “That’s exactly what’s about to happen.” He grumbled half heartedly.
You spoke around Erik all night. Never addressing him directly. “Erik did our lawn so well,” and “Oh yeah my husband bought those for me,” and his favorite “I just show him which color I want and my man makes it happen.” In reference to the newly built deck.
Erik’s hand on your thigh looked normal but you knew it was strategically placed there as a warning.
“How long do you think this can last sweetheart?” He whispered lowly.
When you didn’t respond he just nodded, rubbing small circles on your thighs. He downed the rest of drink before moving. You could hear your own heartbeat thumping loudly in your chest.
“Baby can you get the other cord?” he asked, just for insurance if anyone was paying attention to you.
You nodded, practically running into the side door to enter your home. Erik took his time walking behind you. He enjoyed making you squirm.
You’d barely touched the cord on the counter when Erik’s shadow filled behind you. He didn’t speak right away. He just stood there, watching you fuss with nothing.
Finally, his voice cut through the quiet. “You think I don’t notice?”
Your eyes flicked up, wary. “Notice what?”
He moved closer, slow and deliberate, until your back brushed the counter. His jaw was tight, but his voice was steady.
“You braggin on me, fixing my plate, making it look real sweet for everybody else.” His hand found your hip, squeezing just enough to make you swallow. “But you won’t even look at me when you do it.”
You opened your mouth, then shut it, pressing your lips together.
“I don’t need an audience to know I’m your man.” He leaned down, nose skimming your cheek. “I need you to stop acting like I don’t exist.”
The words hit heavier than his grip. Because he was right — you’d done everything tonight except give him the one thing he wanted most: your voice, your softness, your attention.
“Erik—” you started, but the warning in his eyes stopped you cold.
“Don’t ‘Erik’ me now.” His thumb slid along the curve of your jaw, tilting your face to his. “You’ve been talking around me all day. That stops now.”
“Been watching you all night,” he muttered against your skin.
Before you could answer, his hand slid between your thighs, pushing your shorts aside like they were nothing. Two fingers stroked you slow at first, testing, before entering.
Your gasp was sharp, your hands scrambling for his shoulders.
“Say my name,” he demanded, curling his fingers until your body jolted.
“Erik,” you whimpered, finally giving him what he’d been starving for.
“That’s right.” His lips brushed your jaw, his pace quickening until the wet sounds of his fingers filled the room. “Don’t care if the whole damn neighborhood hear you right now. You don’t ignore me.”
Your moans spilled out in broken pieces, your body trembling against him as his thumb pressed against your clit. You broke fast, quicker than you were ready for, and you came undone on his hand, shuddering against his chest.
Erik didn’t let up until you were sagging against him. Only then did he pull his fingers from you, bringing them to his lips to taste before pressing a slow, possessive kiss against your mouth.
“You hear me now?” voice steady despite the storm he’d just pulled out of you.
You nodded weakly, still catching your breath, and he chuckled. All you heard was satisfied but not finished.
“Good,” he said, setting you gently back on your feet, smoothing your shorts like nothing happened. “Because when they leave..” he left it up to you to imagine.
“Go on and fix that pretty face,” he said softly, thumbing a smudge of gloss from your chin. “Don’t want our guests knowing you’re already out of it.”
Your chest was still heaving when he set you back on your feet. Your legs nearly buckled, and his smirk deepened when you grabbed the counter for balance.
“I’ll head out first,” he added, adjusting his shirt like nothing happened. “Give you a minute to pull yourself together.”
And just like that, he left — casual, unbothered, slipping back through the door with the smell of smoke and ribs following him. You caught a glimpse of him outside, laughing with Rick like he hadn’t just had you gasping on the kitchen counter.
When you finally reappeared, fresh gloss and powder disguising the wreckage on your face, his eyes found you immediately. He didn’t call attention to it, didn’t say a word, but the smile tugging at his lips told you he knew.
The rest of the evening was torture.
His hand on your thigh, his thumb stroking in circles that no one else noticed. The way he leaned close when you refilled your glass, his lips brushing your ear: “Careful, babygirl.”
The glance he gave you when someone complimented your deck again — a look that said, Tell them how you thank me.
Every laugh, every nod to your friends, every bite of food he ate — all of it was normal. But every time his eyes cut to you, you felt the heat of what happened in that kitchen. And the weight of what was coming after everyone left.
When the last pair of tail lights disappeared down the street, and the house fell quiet you were nearly shaking. You leaned against the door for a second, exhaling, trying to will your heartbeat back to normal.
But Erik was already behind you.
“Don’t get comfortable.” His voice was deep, steady, making your skin prickle. “You thought fixing your lip gloss and sitting pretty was gonna get you out of what’s coming?”
You turned, but his hand was already on your throat tight, it made you tilt your head back and force your eyes to his.
“All night I smiled for them,” he said, jaw hard, his thumb stroking the soft spot beneath your chin. “Fed them, laughed with them, played the part. Meanwhile, you…” He smirked, though his eyes were sharp. “You out here testing me.”
“Erik—”
Your voice cracked, and that was all it took for his expression to soften just enough. He leaned down, kissing you slow, swallowing your protest before it could form.
Then his hand dropped from your throat to your waist, and suddenly you were airborne, tossed over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.
“You had no problem keeping quiet earlier,” he cut in, his hand landing sharp on your ass, making you yelp. “Keep that same energy now.”
By the time he dropped you onto the bed, your cheeks were hot and your eyes stung, though you couldn’t tell if it was from frustration or the fire building in your chest.
Erik stood over you, peeling off his shirt slow, deliberate. The sight stole what little defiance you had left.
“You think you teaching me something,” he said, climbing onto the bed, caging you in with his arms. His lips brushed your temple, deceptively tender. “But I promise you, baby… I’m doing teaching around here.”
And then his mouth was on you again while his hand pushed your shorts down with one smooth tug. He moved quick. No more foreplay, no more monologues. He’s been holding back all day and you needed to feel that.
He slid inside you with a groan, deep and unyielding, forcing your back to arch and your breath to catch in a sob.
“Yeah,” he taunted against your ear, his thrusts slow but punishing. “That’s mine. Every cry, every tear, every breath. Mine.”
Your vision blurred, your body breaking under the weight of him — his pace, his words, the way he never let your eyes slip from his. Tears slipped free, hot down your temples, and Erik kissed them away without losing rhythm.
“Go ahead, let it out,” he coddled, pinning your wrists above your head. “You don’t get to ignore me. You don’t get to pretend I’m not the center of your world. Not when I can make you come apart like this.”
Every thrust drove the truth deeper — into your body, into your bones — until the tension finally shattered and you sobbed his name, breaking against him completely.
Erik didn’t let up until he followed you over the edge, spilling into you with a groan that rattled your chest. He collapsed against you, heavy and warm, his breath ragged against your throat.
When the silence settled, his lips brushed your damp cheek again, softer this time.
“You should’ve known,” he murmured, pressing one last kiss against your mouth. “I keep promises.”
I know everyone thinks Smoke is the harder twin, but I think Stack is the harder shell to crack. He hides his trauma differently, and instead of completely retreating like Smoke, he's more jovial and social. I think that alone shows how many walls he's built to prevent himself from being vulnerable. His approachability is a mask, so nobody even thinks to try to breach his walls because he presents himself as "the friendly twin," so when he's approached, people don't take him too seriously. They approach Smoke with more caution. However, I think it's Stack that's more stoic.
Considering that Smoke’s hand is literally always on that trigger AND he killed their daddy, I think people know to proceed with caution 😩
♫ Have Ya Babies | Smoke Moore
(6).. You say you ready, you ain't ready enough
Cause when it fall right in your lap, you be ready to get up..
Elijah didn’t leave that night. Aspen fell asleep and he was torn between leaving while she slept, or waiting for her to wake up. He decided against the latter.
They shared another kiss. Fast, passionate. She was the one who kissed him. He accepted it with generosity, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it fully. Not tonight. Not when she was her most vulnerable.
He’d pulled away from the kiss, as much as he didn’t want to. “Aspen.” He redirected as softly as he could manage. He wasn’t too soft with words but he was weakened by the glimmer in her eyes.
She sighed. This is what she expected. She wanted him. Wanted something, but had the restraint of a soldier. Was she not worth slipping for?
“You ever gonna let go?” She whispered from her spot in his lap.
“Aspen.” He said a little more firmly. She sighed. She couldn’t tell if he wanted to or not. It was one thing to have restraint and to not want to. She was starting to think he didn’t want to.
Frustrated at the lack of attention and the heightened sensitivity of this particular day, she spoke from the intensity of her emotions. Grief and need. And hated how he looked like everything she needed.
“Just go.” She teared up, already walking towards her bedroom door, Miles in hand.
He watched her walk away and his heart sank. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but she wasn’t thinking straight. He wasn’t doing it that way.
He thought quietly for a few moments and against his instinct, he stayed in place. He sat back on the couch and sucked hits teeth.
You can push me away, but I’m not leaving.
_________________________________
Aspen woke up with a throbbing migraine. She groaned into the blankets. Then she was reminded of yesterday. Remembered how kind Elijah had been to her - how considerate he had been.
But she remembered how silly she felt to practically throw herself at him and for him to shut it down. Like he did every time when they shared a nice moment.
She sank further into the bed. She was feeling embarrassed? She groaned once again as she patted the bed to look for her cellphone.
Right. She kicked Smoke out and abandoned everything, him included, in the living room.
She threw the blankets away from her body and prepared for the mess she’d made. She could almost hear her own heartbeat as she braced herself.
The takeout trays were discarded. The table had been cleaned, drinks were gone, and her space was cleaned like he’d never been there.
Her eyes watered but she refused to let the tears fall. What she’d been looking for sat neatly near the remote on the edge of the table.
A few missed calls. Emails. Everything looked fine until she noticed the one missed call from Smoke.
She didn’t call back.
_________________________________
Smoke sighed at the unskippable conversation between two men from legal. This would be fine if the conversation had been about what he paid them for, but this was small talk.
A conversation that he found himself stuck in as he rode the elevator. After awhile he thought that they’d noticed that his only contribution was a single head nod, but they didn’t care.
They asked if he was upgrading to a new truck since a new model was coming out, but he was so stuck in his own head that he didn’t hear which model they were even referring to. He also didn’t care.
Stack was waiting when he reached his floor. He laughed once he seen who he’d been stuck on the elevator with. They talked a lot, even too much for Elias.
“Gentlemen you’re suffocating my brother.” Stack said flatly as Smoke adjusted his tie, already over the day.
They scattered immediately and sent an apologetic smile. Everyone knew that they had one warning around here and then that was it. Booted and replaced and another professional eager to come in and assume their place.
“How are we looking for headlining next year?” Smoke asked as they walked to the meeting room.
Stack sighed dramatically. Then he grinned. “How we looking? We fucking got it.” He laughed. “Come on now I’m the best to ever do this shit.”
Smoke nodded. That was a given. “At least we got some good news today.” He mumbled. Elias raised his eyebrows, putting his hand out to stop his brother from walking further.
“You good?” Elijah looked at him, thought about how Aspen is actively ignoring him, but didn’t share that. He couldn’t. That wasn’t his thing.
“Elijah,” mama smiled softly as she fixed his shirt. “My big boy. ‘M so proud of you.”
This was the big night, or at least the biggest night of ten year old Elijah’s life. The church concert where he was the lead pianist.
He’d been in the play like Elias, but delivered the lines so flatly that they admitted he was better off standing there with the triangle.
But boy could he play those keys. It had been discovered on accident. They had been dropped off at Sunday school, but weren’t picked up when all the other kids were.
Elias was asleep in one of the isles, mouth open and snoring. Elijah found himself sitting behind the piano. He’d focus on it all the time.
He didn’t know what he was doing but he let his body lead him. He thought of a familiar hymn and before he knew it, he was playing it. It’d come to him naturally.
“Elijah that is amazing!” His Sunday school teacher beamed. He froze. “No I didn’t mean to startle you.” But he was already sliding the stool back in place and off the stage.
“‘M sorry ma’am.” He bowed his head.
“Don’t be. I think I have a spot for you in the play if you can do that again. What do you think?” She kneeled down to him.
He nodded. He reached over and hugged her before his brain could tell him to stop. Puzzled but grateful, she wrapped her arms around his body too.
“Never stop excelling Eli.” She whispered to him.
He jumped at the sound of daddy’s rustic truck. Elias was up from his sleep. Mrs. Smith, their lead Sunday school teacher, swallowed.
That was not normal.
“Thank you Patty.” Daddy took his hat off in respect and nodded. “My boys give you any lip?” He asked.
She didn’t ignore their eyes on her. “Of course not. May be the most behaved kids here.”
Daddy grunted, disapprovingly so. They knew what would follow as they walked back to his truck.
“Eli you get in. ‘Lias you walk. Look like you need to wake up anyhow.”
He never noticed that Elijah hurried and switched shoes, their only distinction, and took Elias’ place.
Smoke nodded. “Always.” He dabbed his brother up but Elias could feel the disconnect. Recognized it clearly as he did himself.
“And this has nothing to do with Miss Miami?” He lightly taunted. His eyes caught how Elijah’s flicked down at that.
“Man I just need a damn coffee. Stack move.” He pushed him slightly.
Stack chuckled. “Yeah that’s was I was bracing you for,” Smoke stopped.
“Someone broke the machine.” Stack chuckled as his brother’s fists tightened.
“Look Mike Tyson, calm down. I sent someone to get you one. Any minute now.” He said still clearly entertained.
Smoke in a meeting without coffee was not a happy sight. Everyone knew that.
“Yo ass real annoying.” Smoke grumbled before taking a seat at the empty table.
“Yeah and you was nicer when you were with that girl.” Stack fired back.
“You need a hobb—“
“Good evening gentlemen. Pardon my interruption.”
The bickering halted. Back to business.
_________________________________
Meetings went as scheduled. Informative, boring, but very necessary.
“Thank you.” The boys stood up and shook the hands of their new partners. New advertisement/endorsement deal unlocked.
The room fell empty before they talked amongst each other.
“You have Jerry in legal double check those numbers.” Smoke suggested to Stack.
“I was thinking the same thing.” Stack now loosened his tie. “This endorsement would align with every visual needed for Grace’s album. It pays for itself.” Stack concluded.
That was his lane. He could hear information one time and think about ten clear directions to go. His brain processed information very quickly.
Smoke nodded.
The sounds of a cellphone ringing sent both men searching for their phones. Elijah hoped it had been his but of course it wasn’t.
Stack looked at his screen and silenced it. Elijah recognized the look on his face.
“You hiding from somebody?” He inquired. Elias looked at him, he wasn’t as good holding his emotions in, never had been.
“Uh I guess.” He sighed. Elijah closed the notebook they had worked in to throw around numbers and hypotheticals. A silent ode for him to continue.
“Tori’s pregnant.” Stack said quietly. Elijah breathed out loudly.
“‘Lias you know better.” He reprimanded. This was the last thing that he expected. They both knew they weren’t doing that - at all. If it was going to happen then it’d happen right.
“I know,” his brother sighed. “Baby’s not going to make it.” He admitted.
“How you figure?” His attention fully on his Elias.
“We been reckless. Doing all types of stupid shit,” Elias followed up. “Fetus don’t even look right,”
Elijah sat quietly, unsure of what he needed to say. He usually made these things better, but even he was speechless this time.
He thought for a moment and knew what needed to be done. He pulled him into a hug and Elias stayed there for a minute. Just like they’d done many moons ago.
_________________________________
Adrienne waited patiently for Aspen to come out from her place in her Mercedes.
“Aspeee!” She beamed once her best friend entered the car. They hugged before she was reprimanded.
“Bitch now when were you going to say that you were in Miami!!” She eyed waiting for her to spill.
“God forbid I wanted some sunshine.” Aspen laughed as they headed to brunch.
“Girl you not going to Miami without me, unless you with a man.” Adrienne clocked.
“That is not true!” Aspen thought about it. Maybe she had a point, but that was her first time being there… and it was with a man. Her man? Something like that.
“Are you back with DJ? Be honest.” Adrienne glanced over once they reached a red light.
“No!” Aspen was disgusted. The professional basketball player hadn’t even texted her recently. Maybe they both finally moved on.
“Mhmmm.” Adrienne stretched out disapprovingly.
Aspen waited until they were seated and their mimosas arrived before ripping the bandage off.
“Okay, you’ve waited long enough. Here’s your mystery guy.” She bit her lip as she slid her phone across the table.
Adrienne picked up the phone, eyes narrowing at the side profile photo Aspen had captured.
“For a second, I thought… wait, that looks like Stack Moore.” She laughed nervously, shaking her head. “But that’s crazy, Stack isn’t your type.”
She looked again, slower this time, her eyes tracing the sharp jawline and familiar features. A frown crept in.
“Either this drink is already hitting, or that’s Smoke Moore.”
Aspen laughed at her, the quiet thrill bubbling in her chest. “Yeah.”
Adrienne blinked, momentarily speechless. “Aspen… you’re dating Smoke Moore.”
“Yeah.” Aspen sighed, remembering that they weren’t on the best terms right now.
“Please spill,” Adrienne begged. “Is it heavy? It looks like it might be heavy.” She stated bluntly.
“Adrienne!!” Aspen laughed, mostly embarrassed at her question, but also realized that she didn’t know. It felt heavy though. From her memory of the indent she felt from her place in his lap.
“We haven’t had sex.” Aspen told her truthfully. Adrienne lowered her eyes.
“You trolling me?” She pointed.
“What? Girl no. We haven’t did it.” She put her hands up defensively.
“Oh Aspen…. He likes you.” She lifted her glass and drowned it. “I always knew you were going to get married first.”
Aspen laughed, “You are a mess,” she filled her in with a few more moments, holding onto the ones she deemed more intimate.
She reduced it to just casual but Adrienne knew her too well. “I’m happy as long as you’re happy. You needed this.”
“What?”
“Aspen, DJ was a loser who just happened to be a millionaire. You needed this, a man. A real one girl.”
“I’m ignoring him.”
“You’re what??” Adrienne choked on her drink. “Are you seriously sabotaging yourself?”
“I’m just figuring something out that’s all,”
“So sabotaging.”
“No figuring something out.” She defended. “Now let’s eat. My stomach’s growling.”
♫ Now playing: Sabotage by Wale
_________________________________
“Well since you’re one step away from being single again let’s go to The Spotx.”
“Adrienne.”
“Don’t Adrienne me miss sabotage.”
The room looked like a boutique exploded — dresses draped over chairs, shoes lined up in messy rows. Aspen stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the sides of her black mini-dress. Her curls fell over her shoulders, makeup freshly done.
“You sure about this?” Aspen asked, glancing at Adrienne through the mirror.
Adrienne spun once in her sequined dress, smirking. “One hundred percent. We’ve both worked too damn much to sit at home again. Tonight we’re celebrating… nothing. And that’s the point.”
Aspen laughed softly, shaking her head. “You always make that sound so easy.”
“Because it is.” Adrienne plopped onto the bed, crossing her legs. “Come on, you’ve been hiding out like you’re in witness protection. I finally got you out, don’t ruin the vibe.”
Aspen gave her a look but didn’t argue. Adrienne already had her phone out, snapping a quick selfie of the two of them.
“Adrienne—”
“Relax, we look good.” Adrienne typed quickly, adding a caption with drinking glass emojis before tagging Aspen’s handle.
She hadn’t realized that Adrienne had tagged her, so it was now sitting right on her page too.
The line snaked down the block, lights spilling from the open doors while the bass thumped hard enough to rattle the pavement. Cars crawled past, headlights washing over groups waiting to get inside.
Adrienne looped her arm through Aspen’s. “We look too good to stand in line. Watch.”
Aspen raised a brow but followed, heels clicking against the sidewalk. Adrienne waved at the bouncer like she’d known him for years, exchanging a quick hug before pulling Aspen through the velvet rope.
Aspen laughed. “Of course you know him.”
“Baby, I know everyone,” Adrienne said with a wink.
The place was packed, lights strobing across the dancefloor in bursts of neon. Aspen sipped from her drink, standing at the edge while Adrienne was already in the middle, hair flying as she moved to the beat.
Adrienne grabbed her wrist, tugging her forward. “No hiding. I didn’t drag you out for you to babysit a vodka soda.”
“I’m not hiding,” Aspen said, though she let herself be pulled closer.
“Prove it.” Adrienne spun, laughing as she caught Aspen’s shoulders and pulled her into the rhythm. The bass was relentless, impossible to resist. Aspen finally let go, swaying with the crowd, the corners of her lips tugging upward.
“There she is!” Adrienne shouted over the music. “That’s the Aspen I remember.”
Aspen laughed, flushed from heat and adrenaline. Adrienne held her phone up, recording a ten-second clip of them dancing. She posted it immediately, tagging Aspen in bold letters so it appeared on both their pages.
Aspen didn’t stop her this time. The buzz of the music, the lights, the moment — it felt good.
For now.
_________________________________
Smoke’s penthouse was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavy. He’d smoked an hour ago and yet his high felt gone.
Only a single lamp lit the living room, throwing shadows across the leather couch and glass table. The TV was on, muted, cycling through highlights from a game he hadn’t been really paying attention to.
Stack was with Tori per Smoke’s suggestion and he had no plans - per being ignored by Aspen. Who was.. Who didn’t have an official title.
Smoke sat slouched back, one arm draped over the couch, scrolling his phone without much focus. He didn’t beg. He wasn’t going to blow her phone up, but he just wanted to hear her voice. He didn’t care if she yelled or cried, but he’d grown to hate this silence between them.
He wasn’t expecting to see her.
The story popped up automatically — Adrienne’s flashing screen, music blaring in the background, neon lights streaking across the frame. At first, he almost skipped it. But then he saw the tag. Aspen’s name glowing on the screen.
His thumb froze.
She filled the camera for a moment, laughing, head tilted back, curls bouncing under the lights. That dress — short as hell, hugged every piece of her. Smoke sat up straight, the phone suddenly too close to his face.
His jaw flexed as he watched Adrienne pan the camera again. Aspen spinning once, the hem of her mini dress not lifting with the movement, thankfully.
Heat slammed through him, sharp and unwelcome.
Smoke exhaled through his nose, slow, deliberate. But his hand was already gripping the phone tighter. His chest tightened, tremor moving faster than it had all night.
For a moment he just stared at the screen, that slow burn of jealousy twisting deep. Why the fuck was the dress so short? Had he not made anything clear?
The muscles in his forearm flexed as he dropped the phone on the table with a heavy thud. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, running a hand over his face like it might cool him down.
It didn’t.
Smoke pushed up to his feet, moving with sharp precision. Shoes. Keys. Wallet. He didn’t even think about it — didn’t have to. The decision had already been made. Even if he knew deep down it was a big one.
She wanted to play games? Fine.
Let’s play.
_________________________________
@thefutureemmywinner @coldeforprez
@rolemodelshit @tnychellee @gunznroses4life
@bananajoeclone
I gotta stop reading these ongoing stories because when yall don’t update, I feel like I’m gonna crash out lmao just a feen. What you need to focus on your relationship for? Fuck that man/woman! I need to know what’s going on with these fictional relationships!
I say we jump them!
had that poor baby scared 😩😭
But your honor I can fix him 😩
Now #HollywoodWaxMusem, you know you did this man dirty 😫. Ngl, this is how I picture Michael B. Jordan’s spirit when he’s not acting. “I think I can” ahh stance. 😂
This is literally a puerto rican
When author decides to put a picture of the outfit y/n is wearing and it’s lowkey ugly and uncomfortable
Y’all are killing me with these Not y/n is me and I can’t dress 😭💔💔💔
Sweet like honey 🍯
Chapter 7
Delilah woke before the sun. Her body felt heavy, but her mind was looping back to last night, Stack’s mouth on hers, the shocking heat of his hand gripping her waist like he owned it, the way he lifted her as though she weighed nothing at all. It wasn’t supposed to happen.
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, heart thumping against her ribs, lips still tingling like they hadn’t quite recovered. That kiss had been nothing like Smoke’s steady, grounding presence. Stack’s was chaos. Quick. Hot. Reckless. And she’d let it happen.
Her fingers curled in the sheets as her mind betrayed her again, replaying that moment when Stack pressed her against the wall, his voice low and dangerous in her ear—“Knew you’d taste like that.”
Delilah squeezed her eyes shut hard enough to see stars. She hated the way it made her stomach turn warm. She hated that she didn’t shove him off harder.
The smell of coffee drifted from the kitchen, snapping her out of her spiral. She forced herself to sit up, pinning her hair back with shaking fingers, trying to breathe normal. Her dress clung to her skin, wrinkled from the way she tossed and turned all night. She’d barely slept.
Down the hall, she could hear movement—boots against the wood floor. That steady, unhurried rhythm told her it was Smoke. Always in control. Always aware.
Smoke was at the table with a mug in his hand, broad shoulders leaning against the chair like he owned the room. He looked up once, slow, those brown eyes dragging over her face. Her breath hitched. He didn’t say anything but his jaw ticked like he’d read every thought in her head.
“Mornin’,” she said, voice too light, too quick.
He hummed low in his throat, set his mug down with a soft clink, and kept looking at her. Like he was taking his time. Like he had all day to figure out why she was acting strange.
“You sleep?”
She nodded too fast. “Yeah. Fine.”
Smoke tilted his head just a fraction. “Mm.” The sound was soft, but it landed heavy in her gut.
She moved around him to grab a plate, keeping her eyes down, hoping he wouldn’t notice her hands shaking when she cut the bread. But of course he noticed. He noticed everything.
“You quiet this mornin’.” His voice was even, low like a hum against her skin. “Somethin’ on your mind?”
Delilah forced a smile over her shoulder. “Just tired, is all.”
Smoke leaned back in his chair, arms folding slow, muscles stretching under his shirt. His eyes didn’t leave her, gray and sharp like cold steel. He didn’t believe her. She could feel it.
“Mm.” Another hum. Then silence. The kind that made the air feel tight.
She set the plate down a little too hard, flinched at the sound, and his brow lifted just slightly. Not much, but enough to tell her he clocked it.
Delilah busied herself with sweeping the floor, wiping the counter, anything to keep moving. But every time she glanced up, Smoke was still there, sipping his coffee slow, watching her like a man with nothing better to do but study the way she fidgeted.
When she passed by him to put the broom away, he spoke, voice low but sharp enough to make her freeze mid-step.
“What’d Elias do?”
Her heart stopped. She turned, too quick, almost dropping the broom. “What?”
Smoke’s eyes didn’t move from her face. His tone didn’t change. Calm. Flat. Dangerous. “I asked what he did.”
“N-nothin’,” she stammered, pulse kicking like a drum.
Smoke leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, gray eyes pinning her like nails. “You think I don’t know when somethin’ ain’t right with you?”
Delilah swallowed hard. Her mouth went dry. She shook her head, forcing the lie out: “He didn’t do nothin.”
He stared a moment longer, long enough to make her skin prickle. Then he sat back slow, like he’d let it go, but she knew better. He never let anything go. Not when it came to her.
“Mm.” That sound again, low in his chest. “You let me know if he gives you reason to keep lookin’ like that.”
Delilah nodded, throat too tight to speak. She slipped out onto the porch with the basket of laundry, heart hammering like it would tear right through her ribs.
But even as the sun warmed her skin and the wind tugged at her dress, she couldn’t shake the weight of his eyes—or the taste of Stack still burning her lips.
The sun climbed higher, setting the yard in a shimmer of gold heat. Delilah had been restless all morning, scrubbing floors that were already clean, folding linens that didn’t need folding. She hadn’t said much—not to Stack when he lingered in the doorway with that smug grin, and certainly not to Smoke, who sat at the kitchen table, boots planted wide, watching her like a hawk through the smoke of his cigarette.
He didn’t say anything when she fumbled the dishes. Didn’t say a word when she folded the same towel three times. Just tapped his thumb against his coffee cup, quiet but sharp, like a clock counting down.
She knew what that silence meant.
It meant he saw her.
And Lord help her, she couldn’t stop the jittery hum in her chest. Couldn’t stop thinking about Stack—about that kiss last night, the way his hand had fit around her throat like it belonged there, the way his mouth had swallowed up all the good sense she had left and the way he grippped her ass like he owned it himself.
She wished she could scrub the memory away as easy as the suds on the porcelain plate in her hand. But she couldn’t.
And Smoke could tell.
Smoke found Stack out back, leaning against the fence post with a toothpick between his teeth and trouble glinting in his eyes.
“Stack.” Smoke’s voice carried low and steady, the kind of tone that could stop a man mid-step if he had any sense.
Stack didn’t move right away, just shifted his weight, gave a lazy grin. “Mornin.”
Smoke didn’t smile. He stopped a few feet from him, boots grinding into the dirt. “We gon’ have us a talk.”
“That so?” Stack’s grin widened, wolfish now.
Smoke took his time lighting a cigarette, letting the silence stretch thin between them. “That girl in this house ain’t like what you used to.”
Stack arched a brow. “What I’m used to?”
“She ain’t one of them women you pick up in town. She don’t know a damn thing ‘bout men like you.” Smoke flicked ash to the ground, his eyes flat as river stone. “She don’t know a damn thing ‘bout men like me neither.”
That grin faltered for half a second, but Stack covered it quick with a chuckle. “You actin’ like I’m out here ruinin’ the Lord’s work. Thought you weren’t the jealous type.”
Smoke’s jaw ticked. “Ain’t about jealousy. It’s about you keepin’ your hands to your damn self.”
Stack stepped in close, tilting his head like a challenge. “Don’t preach to me ‘bout restraint, Elijah. Not when you look at her the way you do. I see it every time she walks in the room.”
Smoke didn’t flinch. “Difference is, I know what she can handle.” His words were quiet now, each one sharp enough to cut. “You don’t.”
Stack laughed, soft and taunting. “Sounds like you tryna convince yourself.”
Smoke didn’t answer. Just took one last drag, flicked the cigarette, and turned his back. But his words came low, cold, and final:
“You touch her again, you gon’ find out just how much I can handle, brother.”
By noon, Delilah’s nerves were shot to hell. She could feel Smoke’s eyes on her all morning measuring, weighing, waiting. She hated it. Hated how he could make her feel like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
So when he told her plain and stern before heading out to the shed, “Don’t leave this porch, Delilah,” something hot and mean sparked in her chest.
Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was that kiss still burning on her lips like a brand.
Either way, she stepped off that porch.
It wasn’t even far just out to the edge of the yard, where the wildflowers blowed under the wind like they had secrets worth telling. She knelt down, picked a few. Told herself it didn’t count. Told herself he wouldn’t know.
But when she turned back, he was there.
Smoke stood on the porch, big as a shadow, arms crossed, the look on his face making her stomach drop clean to her toes.
“Elijah—”
“Inside.” His voice was quiet. Too quiet.
Her pulse kicked. “I was just—”
“Now.”
She swallowed hard and walked, each step feeling like it might crack the earth open.
Inside, the air felt thick. Smoke shut the door slow, like a man locking away a storm. He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t curse. Just stood there, looking at her in a way that made her skin prickle.
“What’d I tell you this mornin’?”
Her throat worked. “Not to leave the porch.”
“And what’d you do?”
She twisted her fingers together. “I—I didn’t go far—”
“That ain’t what I asked.”
Her chest squeezed. “I left.”
Smoke’s jaw flexed, a muscle ticking near his temple. “You actin’ out for a reason? Or you just feelin’ foolish today?”
Heat crawled up her neck. She hated how he could do that, strip her down to the bone with nothing but his words and tone.
“I ain’t actin’ out.”
“Coulda fooled me.” He stepped closer, slow and sure, until the hem of her dress brushed his thigh. “Look at me, Delilah.”
She did, though it near burned.
“You got somethin’ you need to get off your chest, now’s the time.”
Her lips parted—Stack’s name almost on her tongue—but fear swallowed it whole.
“No.”
Smoke studied her a long beat, then nodded once, like he’d decided something in that quiet way of his.
“Alright then.”
Before she could blink, his hands were on her—one gripping her wrist, the other steady at her hip, guiding her toward the big chair in the corner.
“Elijah—” Her voice broke high when he sat down and pulled her over his lap like she weighed nothing.
“Hush.” His palm smoothed over the curve of her backside, slow, deliberate. “You wanna act like a child, you gon’ get treated like one.”
Her breath came fast. “Please—”
The first swat landed light, more sound than sting, but it jolted her all the same.
“You listen when I talk to you.” Another, firmer this time, heat blooming through the thin cotton. “Ain’t that right?”
“Yes—” The word tore out of her on a gasp when his hand came down again.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mm.” His palm lingered now, warm and heavy, dragging slow over the fabric until it bunched high on her thighs.
Her face burned, shame and something hotter tangling deep in her belly. God help her, she could feel how wet she was, and from the way his hand stilled, she knew he felt it too.
Smoke let out a low curse, almost to himself. “Oh my God.”
Then he was moving her, laying her back against the cushions, his big hands framing her knees as he shoved her skirt up to her hips.
“Elijah—”
“Hush.” His voice was gravel now, thick with something dark. “You got all this attitude ‘cause you been wantin’ somethin’ you don’t even know how to handle.”
Her breath hitched when his fingers hooked the edge of her panties, dragging them slow down her thighs.
“And Lord help me—” He bent low, his mouth a whisper from where she ached, his breath hot as a brand. “I ain’t strong enough to tell you no.”Delilah moaned around his mouth, the sound muffled but rich, deep, intoxicating. Smoke’s tongue dragged slow, teasing, coaxing her body into an uncontrolled rhythm. His hands moved with precision, holding her hips, her thighs, controlling every tilt and thrust of her body.
“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured against her, lips brushing her sensitive skin. “Like I told you… you ain’t ready for a man like me.”
“Yes… oh God… yes,” she whispered, voice high, broken, pleading. Her back arched, pressing into him, hips bucking despite her efforts.
Smoke chuckled, low and dark. “Mm. You gon’ learn real quick how to take what I give.”
He shifted her slightly, pressing deeper, teasing, lips wrapping around her button sucking and licking making her entire body tremble. Her hands fisted in the chair, as he moved, skilled, dominant, unrelenting.
“Elijah… please…” she gasped, hips jerking, shivers crawling along her spine.
He pulled back just slightly, letting her ache for more, teasing her with the absence of full contact. “Not yet,” he whispered, hand sliding to press her thighs further apart. “You gon’ learn patience, girl.”
Her body trembled violently, wet and aching, heat coiling tighter in her stomach. She bucked against him, desperate, needy, but he held her firm.
“You want it?” he asked softly, lips brushing her inner thigh. “You want me to give it to you?”
“Yes! Yes, please…” she cried, unable to hold back.
“Mm. Not yet,” he whispered, just enough to make her whimper, shaking in his lap.
Delilah’s chest heaved, hips bucking again, helpless and desperate. Every nerve in her body burned under his touch. His mouth, his hands, his fingers—they all claimed her. The world shrank to the sound of her own broken gasps and the heat of his skin against hers.
Smoke’s hands were firm and commanding, pressing, holding, and spreading her wide. He leaned in closer, teeth grazing tenderly against the sensitive flesh at the apex of her thighs, dragging her even deeper into the shivering, hot spiral of need. Her hips bucked, pressing into him, desperate for friction, for the one thing she craved.
“You close?” he asked, voice low, husky.
“Yes… yes…” she gasped, pushing against him, needing more, needing release.
“Mm,” he murmured, pressing his hands to steady her, holding her hips firm. “Not like this. Not yet. You’re… not ready for it.”
Her back arched violently, body trembling, and he held her firm, teasing, dominating. Every inch of her ached, every nerve alive, but he would not let her reach the peak.
Delilah’s hands gripped him, nails digging into his shoulders, desperate and wild. She whimpered his name over and over, voice high, broken, pleading. But Smoke held her, cold, deliberate, leaving her burning and needy, body shaking in his arms.
Her thighs trembled, dripping, hips jerking, shivering violently. The pleasure built and twisted in her like fire, and yet, he held her on the edge, forcing restraint, control.
“Now,” he whispered again, voice thick and dark. “Learn to what I tell to girl.”
Her body quaked violently, every nerve alive, her head thrown back, chest heaving.
Stack exhaled outside the hallway, smiling, smirk curling slow. He flicked his cigarette again, imagining how wet she was, and the way she would cried out his name next.
A smirk curling slow on his mouth as Delilah’s muffled moans filled the air, each one a sharp blade he meant to use later.
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