Have A Baby With Me
Or Smoke and Stack weren't supposed to tell anyone they were leaving, but Stack doesn't have the heart to abandon you. And you don't have the heart to let him go, not without something to remember him by...
Stack Moore x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of smoking,creepy step-dad, toxic mother, angst!!
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Wasn't nothing in the world like a Mississippi rain.
For everyone you knew, it meant muddy dress hems and nappy roots. But for you, rain had always been a premonition.
It rained the day 'fore your daddy left. Rained the same morning your mama bought her new beau home from church. It Rained the day you went over to Mrs. Freedman's to watch her little boy, and there, laid out on the porch was Mrs. Freedman. The Lord had called her home. Hell, it even rained the day your mama found out you'd been singing the blues at school and burned all your good dresses!
You were on the way out of your little house in the woods, tucked away from the chaos of the neighborhood that raised you. Notebook and pen in hand, you'd bound the book yourself. And Stack bought you the fancy pen as a birthday gift.
You were a good girl, no vices. It surprised Stack, that a girl like you; hurt by everyone she loved and expected to love her, didn't like to dance late into the night, or drink, smoke or even get involved with various men.
But damn if you didn't love to draw.
He got you that pen and you'd never put it down.
The stairs croaked under your bare feet, another time you'd worry, but Stack assured you, he'd done good by you when fixing them stairs. "Ain't no way of splinters, ain't no way." You believed him.
Wasn't nothing to do besides believe him. He'd shown you before; that he was trustworthy.
That time when you were fourteen, shopping for groceries and he asked you what the hell happened to your face. He and his brother were grown by then, atleast to you. They were tall, muscular, dangerously handsome, and made their own money.
You knew the twins before then, in passing. In a "How's your mama?" and "Who you dolled up fa?" or even a "You need anything, holler." kind of way. But you'd never had to holler. But he asked,so....
You told him "Mama beau get to beating me. Say I owe him. He take care of me, I oughta be givin' something in return." Stack ain't say no words, just stroked that bruised spot under your eye and turned away.
Down the aisle, you could see him, talking to Smoke. The most you thought of it was, guess he figured I ain't his business. 'cause you weren't and no matter how much you wanted, you didn't need him in your business.
Half hour later, you walked up to your mamas house and those twins were coming out, fists bloodied, foreheads gleaming with sweat. Smoke glided past you patting your shoulder gently. Then Stack stopped in front of you, grabbed your pretty brown face and promised, "He ain't gon' mess with you no more."
Since then he'd been popping up, at school, at the market, just to talk. When you were sixteen he started showing up to your house. Fully dressed, smellin' like tobacco and whiskey. He'd tap your bedroom window a few times and wait.
It wasn't consistent sometimes twice a week sometimes once a month and sometimes everyday for weeks. If Stack wasn't with you he was with his brother, working. You didn't care, you always waited to hear that tap on your window.
You'd lift the window timidly, arms weak from sleep. Some part of you knew he had no business climbing through your window, taking up space on your bed, stroking your arms while you told him about your day. You didn't have much of a problem with it. Your mama would have, your step-dad surely would have.
But what was he gonna do?
That time your mama burned your best dresses? Stack didn't have to wait for you to open the window. You were up, fuming. Before he could ask, you were in his arms, cryin' out the whole story, how you were just having fun. Using your voice for something you liked. And how your mama was a witch, angry and hateful, cause the men she chose wanted anything but her. He listened, then did what he always did. He handled it.
He took you out that house. Stack could be trusted. It never rained when you were with Stack.
You treaded along the dirt path, humming lightly, the air was warm and the sun was shining. The perfect conditions to sit by the lake and draw something pretty.
You found a good spot and wasted no time hiking your dress up around your thighs, to straddle the log flanked over the lake your toes grazed the water.
"When you gon' draw me?" Your pen kept scratching across the paper. You'd already felt him, leaning up against that tree, shoulder broad, skin dark and glistening, you could smell that tobacco, even twenty feet away.
"What I got to draw you for? See you most every day, don't I?" He coughed. And stepped a little closer. "Maybe not every day, but enough." You closed your book as he knelt by you.
He grabbed your face, like usual and pressed his lips on yours slow, deliberate. Stack was always gentle,but this kiss... this kiss was different. His hands found your hair, stroking gently. You separated catching your breaths. His eyes never left yours, he was silent, searching.
And before you could speak, you felt it.
Plop!
A single rain drop on your leg. Then another. Then a flood poured from the sky. Stack snatched your book and tucked it in his jacket with a quickness. He grabbed your hand, but you couldn't move.
You could barely feel the rain, dread had overcome you.
"Elias?" You looked up at him, questions painting your face, he couldn't tell what was rain and what was tears.
"I'm goin'."
'Where?!" He stuttered, Coughed, Swiped at the wetness around his eyes. "Goin' where? Goin' Where, Elias?"
"Down east. Me and my brother."
"You gon' leave me?!" The rain was spattering, hard and violent, loud. You would have screamed if the woods were dead silent.
"Wasn't 'sposed to tell you. I--I wanted you to know you ain't abandoned."
You finally stood, your feet sunk into the mud, knocking you down 3 more inches shorter than him.
"What about the life that we wanted? We planned-we planned a life, and now you're not comin'?"
"I'm sorry."
"You're always Sorry, Stack!" You never called him that. "Is it 'cause of me? Am I too much?"
"No!" he shouted. "No, Darlin' it's-it's not your fault. I want to be with you. I do, but life don't always go to plan."
"So marry me. Believe in us, in...in what we could be. I'll be her waitin' fa you."
"I'm not gon' marry you. You know what kind of life we live, Me and my brother. It's-It's no tellin' when-If i'll be back."
He was right. He was blunt but he was right.
"Elias," Your tears hadn't dried, you hadn't accepted it, but he was no statue, he wasn't gon' be held where he ain't want to be. "leave me with something."
He grabbed your face, gentle than ever before, light like if he pressed too hard you might disappear. he was just as afraid as you were. "Anything."
"Have a baby with me."
"Baby?"
"It's too late for our dream, but we can make a new one. Leave something here. Have a baby with me."
He kissed you hard, fear gone. He might disappear but he knew you wouldn't. The rain soaked through your dress. His hands traveled across your back, hot, Kisses trail down your neck.
His hands tracing you was, new, scary. Risky. But you asked him to and he did. Stack couldn't stay, but he could leave you with something.
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TAGS: @bananajoeclone @tnychellee @heartgirllover @plan3tch1ld @chrisevansmentee @bowwowbillycow
Hope you guys loveeee! need to edit it a bit more, but wanted to get it out! sorry it's not super smutty. I'm sorry :(
LMK if i should write part 2 when the twins come back to Mississippi!