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.”
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.
، summary𓈒 what better way for sammie to show you appreciation for appreciating his music?
، pairing𓈒 sammie moore x black!fem!reader
، warnings𓈒 Smut, NSFW, 18+, semi public, oral (f!receiving), praise kink, dirty talk (but soft and sweet), preacher boy being filthy with his mouth, reader being shy, Sammie adoring her.
، notes𓈒 uhhh yeah. Enjoy? (Req by anon)
want more? go here! 𐃘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
It was damn near midnight but nobody had slowed down their dancing in the barn yet.
You’d been dancing for what felt like hours, sweaty, breathless, twirling under the hazy glow of the lights, and somewhere in the middle of the crowd, Sammie Moore had found you.
That voice, lord, that voice, smooth like smoke, low like thunder, sweet enough to steal your good sense.
And now. You were laughing against his chest, hands clutching the front of his jacket, as he half dragged you toward the back of the barn.
Your shoes skidded on the rough wood, the hem of your dress twisting between your knees. Sammie was laughing too, that soft, breathless chuckle that made your heart flip.
"Where you takin' me, preacher boy?" you teased, grinning.
Sammie just shook his head, smiling wide, eyes burning, and pushed open a closet door.
Light dim inside, all dusty but it was perfect for the occasion.
You barely made it inside before his mouth was on yours, kissing you like he hadn't just seen you thirty seconds ago, like he’d been starving.
One hand grabbing his shoulder, the other going to the back of his neck to pull him closer if possible, and you gasped against his mouth, dizzy with how fast this was happening.
Somebody, Slim, from the sound of it, hollered out a laugh from the other side of the barn.
"Ain't no hidin', Sammie! Alright now"
You laughed into Sammie’s kiss, all breathless and shit.
He laughed too, a low rumble in his chest, but he didn't pull away. If anything, he kissed you harder. Hands gripping your waist like he was trying to memorize the shape of you.
You pulled back just enough to breathe, your forehead bumping his nose.
"You sound real good up there," you mumbled, cheeks hot underneath your skin, "When you was singin’. Sound better than anybody else here."
Sammie huffed a soft, bashful sound, but the way his eyes darkened, you knew he liked hearing that.
"That right, pretty girl?" he said, voice dragging like silk across your skin. “You like my singin'?"
"Mmhmm," you nodded, kissing on his jaw. "'Specially when you hit them notes."
You weren't thinking, not really, just talking and laughing and letting yourself get drunk off the heat of him and his voice.
So when he lifted you up and set you on the old table in the closet, your brain barely caught up.
Not even when he dropped to his knees. Dropped to his knees.
You blinked, the sweat cooling on your skin, heart pounding as you felt his hands push up the hem of your dress.
"Sammie- hollon- " you gasped, pushing at his shoulders. "Wait, wait, wait–I walked here- I been dancin' all night- I ain't– I ain't even clean-"
You were babbling, a bit mortified.
But Sammie just kissed the inside of your thigh, all slow and hot, then smiled up at you, his mouth glistening.
"Don't care," he said simply. "You beautiful just like this."
You slapped a hand over your face, half in embarrassment, half because you couldn't believe this was happening.
You heard him laugh low.
Then he grabbed your wrist, firm but careful, and pulled your hand away from your face.
"Lay down for me, baby," he murmured, thumb stroking your wrist. "Let me take care of you." his voice, you were gonna die. Die because of the way he was distracting you, all while pulling down your panties, all the way down, and letting them fall from your ankles.
You swallowed thick and nodded uncontrollably.
You laid back, the old wood creaking under your weight, the barn lights flickering somewhere behind your shut eyelids, your whole body trembling with a mix of nerves and something deeper.
You felt Sammie’s hands sliding up your thighs, all warm and calloused, felt the press of his palms as he gently eased your legs open, spreading you like something sacred, like he was about to pray at the altar of you.
Cool air brushed your inner thighs, kissed the heat between them, and then came the softest groan, deep from his chest.
“Damn…” he murmured, more to himself than to you. "So damn wet."
His breath fanned over the wetness of your pussy and you shivered, your lips parted, your eyes fluttering as your fingers gripped the table edge.
Then his mouth made contact with your pussy.
His tongue slid through your folds, parting them with gentle precision, until he found your clit and sealed his lips around it and sucked on it softly and steadily.
Your entire body jolted, hips twitching off the table in shock.
“Oh my God– Sammie-”
He didn’t flinch nor did he stop. He just groaned into your pussy like he’d just tasted divinity, like the sound of your moan had gone straight through him.
His hands slid underneath your thighs, fingers curling tight over your hips, anchoring you down, so you couldn’t move, so you couldn’t flinch, so you couldn’t do anything but take it.
And you took it. Your thighs trembled around his head, your breath coming out in choked gasps, you tried to be quiet, tried to bite down on the sounds spilling out of you, but he made it impossible.
The way his tongue worked, lapping, and circling, and flicking that puffy little clit again and again, so tender but so filthy, made your body rise with every pass.
Your hand slipped to the back of his neck, cradling him there.
He moaned against you like you fed him, like he needed this, like he was starving for it.
“Preacher boy- ” you gasped, the nickname tumbling out on instinct.
He grinned against your pussy, and let out a low, filthy hum that made your stomach clench due the vibrations that spread throughout your lower body.
And when he pulled back just enough to whisper, “Say it again,” his voice was so deep, so wrecked with lust, you thought you might fall apart from just that alone.
You could barely breathe. Could barely think. But you obeyed, barely above a whimper.
“Preacher boy…”
He hummed again, deeper this time, and then you felt him slide two thick fingers into you without warning.
You cried out, back arching off the table, as he filled you and stretched you slowly, his tongue still working your clit, his mouth soft while his fingers curled inside you, all firm and confident like the grown man he was.
He moved like he’d done this before, like he knew how to pull sounds from a woman’s chest.
He licked you like it was Sunday service. He fucked you with his fingers like he meant to make you confess something.
“That’s it,” Sammie murmured, his voice honey slick and ruined. “C’mon now. Give it to me, baby. C’mon, let go for me.”
You came like the barn was shaking, like the wood beneath you would snap, like he’d stolen your soul from between your thighs.
And he didn’t stop. Not until you were trembling and leaking and gasping, his mouth dragging every last ounce of pleasure out of you like he needed it to breathe.
When he finally slowed, pressing a soft kiss to your swollen clit, then the inside of your thigh, you lay there stunned. Eyes glassy and your breath gone. Your heart was stuttering against your ribs.
He rose to his feet slow, and when you looked up at him, you felt a flush run all the way down your chest.
His mouth was shiny with your juices. His lips swollen and damp. His eyes were hooded and sexy.
He leaned down, one hand cupping your cheek, and kissed you so deeply. His slick tongue sliding against yours.
You tasted yourself on his tongue. You let him feed it to you like communion. And you swore you could still feel his moan in your mouth.
Sammie whispered against your lips. "Ain't no hidin', baby. You mine now."
You only pushed him away with a scoff, still catching your breath.
You sat up slow, the old wood of the table creaking under you, your dress all bunched up around your hips, cheeks warm, your lips swollen from kissing.
Sammie was standing right in front of you, breathing all hard, eyes fixed on you like you were something holy.
You swallowed thick, and reached for him. Reached for the buttons on his pants, fingers fumbling a little from how bad you still felt your climax rattling through you.
"Baby —" he started, voice low and rough. "You sure?"
"Mmhmm," you nodded, staring up at him with glassy, hungry eyes.
You slid your hands over the front of his pants, felt him already thick and hard underneath, and bit your lip.
"I want ya," you whispered. “I need ya.”
He bent down, grabbed your face in both hands, and kissed you deeply again.
You moaned into the kiss, grabbing onto the waistband of his pants, trying to pull him closer.
Sammie chuckled against your mouth and let you work at his belt.
You popped it open, the soft snap loud in the tiny closet, and dragged the zipper down, your fingers shaking just a little.
He caught your hands for a second, squeezing them.
"Take your time, baby," he whispered. "Ain't no rush."
Oh but you wanted him; you wanted him so bad it hurt.
You kissed him again, desperately and messily, your hands slipping under the waistband of his briefs, feeling the heavy, thick weight of his dick.
Sammie groaned into your mouth, his hips jerking forward when you wrapped your hand around him. You stroked him slowly, feeling the heat of him, and Sammie gripped the edge of the table like he might break it.
"F-Fuck, baby," he breathed, forehead pressing against yours. "You tryin' to kill me?"
You just smiled shyly, and kissed him again, tongue sliding slow against his. You wanted more and you needed more.
So you shifted, still trembling, and pulled him closer between your legs.
Sammie sucked in a sharp breath, one hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your dress higher, until he could feel how wet you still were for him.
"Damn," he muttered against your mouth. "Still so sweet for me?”
You nodded, desperate, and guided him closer. But Sammie pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his gaze serious.
"Ain't fuckin' you on no damn splintery table," he growled. "You deserve better than that."
You whimpered, frustrated, but he kissed you slow, calming you.
"Next time," Sammie promised, voice low. "Next time, baby, I’m takin' you somewhere proper. Where I can hear you scream without worryin' who hear us."
You shivered. God, you wanted him so bad, but you trusted him too. You trusted him to mean it.
So instead, instead, you pulled him close again, and let him grind against you, thick and hard between your thighs, while you kissed him again.
Sammie kissed you like he was carving your name into his soul, slowly and aching and desperate, his hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that made you both moan into each other’s mouths.
It wasn't enough. Not nearly. But it was everything all at once. And when you finally pulled back, cheeks burning, your lips slick, Sammie rested his forehead against yours and smiled.
"You my girl now," he whispered. "Ain't lettin' you go, baby."
And you smiled too, still trembling, but more sure than you ever had been before.
"Good," you whispered back. "I ain't goin' nowhere."
Description: ( unedited af ) You and Stack have been in love for what feels like forever, but neither of you has had the courage to speak up. Stack is convinced that your heart belongs to Smoke, and as for Smoke? He’s exhausted from trying to show you both that the love you seek is right in front of you.
Word count.: 3,852
A/n: this was originally one part, but I thought it’s a break it up into two because when I tell you, it’s getting a longer and longer 😭 I don’t wanna rush the way I want it to end but the way I’m craving these Sinners fic and I know some of y’all are too. I thought it would be nice to drop it now. Couldn’t contain my own excitement 😂
Part 2 - What I Should’ve Said
Enjoy ! 🩷
As soon as you stepped off the train, a smile broke across your face. The familiar sights and sounds of home wrapped around you like a warm embrace. You were excited to finally be back, but a flutter of nerves danced in your stomach at the thought of seeing your sister for the first time in ages. Yes, you guys had written to each other, and she had tore your ass a new one in a few of them letters back home bout to running off with the twins without a word. Nevertheless, you knew regardless of how upset she may be with you, she’d always welcome you home with open arms. You missed your sister. You also missed the twins, who you were eager to reunite with. It had been almost a year since you’d all been together, and just thinkin' about Stack made your pulse quicken.
Steppin' aside so other boarding the train would have access to the front door, you made your way toward the center of the station, your eyes scanning the crowd. You were sure Stack knew you was comin' at this time, so you had a feelin' he’d be lurkin' around here somewhere. Just then, you heard it—a voice that sent a thrill of nostalgia through you. You turned around, curiosity piqued, and there he was, front and center.
But your heart sank a little when you noticed the woman standin’ in front of him. Fair-skinned and confident, she had that undeniable charm—Mary. Of course she would find him, you thought bitterly.
You watched as Stack’s gaze followed her, a solemn look crossing his face as she walked away. You should’ve known he’d seek her out the moment he arrived. You’d bet money he could find her in a crowed room, without fail.
You loathed Mary.
It wasn’t a secret. You couldn’t stand her presence and that gnawed at you deep down. It wasn’t just jealousy; it was that gut-wrenching belief that Stack cared for her more than he did for you. He looked out for her in a way that was different from how he looked out for you. The attention he gave her was the kind you had secretly longed for, and judging by the way he stood there, it seemed nothin' had changed.
Oh, how wrong you were.
“Old habits die hard, huh, Stack?” you snarked from behind him, the playful edge in your voice barely masking the hurt you felt.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes in resignation. He knew he was caught.
He didn’t even have to turn around to know it was you. Stack could tell by the sound of your voice that you was pissed, especially with the faux sugary sweet smile you wore when he finally faced you. That, and when you were at him, it was the only time you called him Stack and not Elias.
Turning around to face you he could barely contain the smile that wanted to break out.
It had been a year since the two of you had seen each other, but for him, it felt like a lifetime. For six years, y’all had traveled the world together. You had taken care of him and Smoke, watchin' their backs, makin' sure he stayed outta trouble. You had put up with his antics for so long, and he’d never understood why you stuck by his side. That was until you decided it was time to carve out your own path, to prove you could stand on your own.
So you left them. You left him. You promised to return within a year or come runnin' if he called.
But Stack didn’t call.
He figured you didn’t want him to. Not really. A part of him was upset with you for abandoning him. He knew Smoke had written to you a few times, and he tried not to let the green-eyed monster show. Smoke would tell him when he received a letter, sometimes even havin' one for him too. Stack never wrote back, but he always read the ones you sent for him. Several times in fact. He wanted to know how you were, what you had been up to, even if he fronted like he didn’t care. You were miles away and all he wanted was you near..
And now you were back, standing right in front of him, looking as breathtaking as ever. The sun-kissed brown skin of yours practically glowed in the light. The apples of your cheeks rounded as you smiled, dimples showing, and the curves of your hips called out to him as he admired your frame in the flowy yellow dress you wore. It reminded him of your favorite flower, magnolias, and coincidentally, yellow was his favorite color on you too.
You were home for him, and you didn’t even know it.
“It wasn’t even like that, Bam,” he said, tryin' to brush off the tension and butter you up with the nickname he gave you.
“It never is, is it, Stack?” you shot back, crossin' your arms, though a smile tugged at your lips.
“Come on now, after all this time, that’s the mood you wanna get off on?” He hand taken a few steps toward you and grabbed your hand.
“A brotha can’t get no love first?” He flashed you a smile he knew you couldn’t resist.
Despite yourself, your smile grew bigger as you felt the warmth of his presence pulling you in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, sinking into the comfort of his embrace.
“I missed you,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you melted against him.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he replied, his words a gentle way of sayin', 'I missed you too.'
“Who’s this?” you asked, eyeing the guitar-totin' boy standin' next to them after you two finally pulled apart.
“The boy,” Stack replied, nodding in his direction.
“The boy—Little Sammie, is that you?!” you exclaimed, shocked.
“Miss Y/n?” he said, his eyes wide with disbelief.
You laughed, pulling him into a warm hug. God, he was all grown up. You used to help his ma look after him and his siblings sometimes, and you even sang in his daddy’s church for a while. That was until you started hangin' out with Smoke and Stack more and stopped goin' to church. You didn’t want to hear no sermons about how the devil had his hands on you and how you needed to come back to the Lord.
It was a bittersweet feeling, thinking about how much you missed them and how much Sammie had grown. You could see he still had to get his head on straight, but it warmed your heart that he was still playing the guitar Stack had given him.
“Well then, there will be plenty of time to catch up later. You boys finish up here. I’ll be in the car,” you announced a beat after pullin' away. You knew they was up to no good.
“Little Sammie, help Stack with my bags, will ya?” You pinched one of his cheeks playfully before giving the other a quick kiss, treating him like the youngin' he still was in your eyes.
“Oh and drop the ‘Miss’.” He stared after you, bewildered, as you walked past Stack, givin' him a wink while you patted his chest slowly, draggin' your hand away.
“That’s really Y/n,” Sammie said, still in disbelief, causing Stack to chuckle.
He hadn’t seen you since he was a boy, and he couldn’t believe how different you were now. You were just a teen girl girl in his eyes back then, but now you were a grown woman—an extremely attractive one, at that.
“She’s—”
“Way too much woman for you to handle, lil nigga,” Stack stated matter-of-factly, a smirk playin' on his lips.
Not too much for me, though, he thought to himself, wordlessly pickin' up both suitcases and handing his little cousin one. You would probably fit real pretty in the front seat of his ride right about now, knowin' you and those pretty pick pocketing hands of yours had already snatched the keys from his coat pocket.
“Well, are you?” Sammie quizzed.
“Am I what?” Stack frowned slightly.
“Handling it?” The corner of Preacher Boy’s mouth twitched just a little, and Stack knew the younger man could tell you were vexed with him, and he wasn’t handling shit.
“Bring yo ass on, smart ass.”
As a result of those endless hours of travel, you were exhausted. You hadn’t gotten much sleep on the train, not wantin' to doze off around strange white folks. Your father had raised you and your sister to always be aware of your surroundings. After hearin' Delta’s wild stories about the men he knew from the side of the road, you needed a moment to decompress. So, you let the sounds of Sammie’s guitar and the rhythm of the car rockin' gently lull you into a well-deserved rest.
You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep, but soon you felt somethin' soft brush against the side of your face.
“Bam,” you heard softly as you began to stir.
“Bam.” This time you felt a poke to your cheek.
With a soft groan, you opened your eyes to see Stack standin' outside of the car, looking at you with that soft smile that always made your heart race.
“There’s my girl.” He smiled down at you.
“What you want, Elias?” You tried not to blush at his words.
“We made it. Come on.” He extended his hand for you to take.
You took it, pullin' yourself up to stand. Prepared to jump over, he surprised you by lifting you up in the air out of the back of the car.
You squealed, caught off guard as he held you slightly above him. You looked down at him for a minute, and he slowly set you back down, your body sliding against his.
“Thank you,” you said bashfully, pretendin' to fix your hair in the mirror.
He stood directly behind you, just close enough for you to catch a glimpse of his smirk in the car mirror.
“Anytime.”
“I—” you began, but were cut off by another car pullin' ahead. Once you noticed it was the truck Stack had said Smoke was in, you started walking quickly toward it. Stack told you the two of them had to split the work and that Smoke had a few stops and you knew it wouldn’t be anywhere else, but to see Annie. It was one thing for Smoke to be gone; of course then, he and Annie couldn’t be together. But while he was home, he wouldnt go anywhere without her.
“Annie!” You called as soon as your older sister came into view.
“Y/n?” Annie couldn’t believe her eyes as you ran toward her the biggest smile on your face.
“Surprise.” You spoke tearfully, as you slowed down taking the last few steps before crashing' into your big sister. You embraced her tightly, the two of you holding onto one another as if the other would disappear if you let go.
“Look at you.” She ran her hand up and around your face, cuppin' it affectionately.
“Look at you.” You repeated, mesmerized by your sister’s loving eyes.
Eyes that always looked at you with understanding, compassion, love, and support. Annie didn’t always agree with the choices you made, but she always supported you in choosin' your own destiny.
“Don’t you ever leave me like that again,” she fussed, swattin' lightly at your butt.
“Stop, girl, I’m grown,” you laughed, spinning around in a circle to dodge her playful swats.
“Girl, I don’t give a damn.” Annie fixed you with a stern look. “You’re still my baby sister. You don’t just run off and leave me without notice like that. You scared me half to death.”
“I’m sorry, Annie. It’s not that I wanted to; I just—” you paused, searchin' for the right words.
After a moment, you realized you didn’t need to say much. Annie would understand.
“Mine doesn’t have a mojo bag; he just has me,” you said, your voice wavering, knowin' she would know you was referring to the more reckless twin.
She smiled and nodded in understanding. You stood there for a little while longer, embracing each other, tryin' to wipe the tears from each other’s eyes, gigglin' like school girls as you did so.
“We’ll take more later ya hear?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Pullin' away, you angled your body a little more to the left to finally get a good look at Smoke.
“My girl!” he said with a small smile of his own, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
“Hey Smoke.” The two of you wrapped your arms around one another.
You missed the way Stack’s jaw clenched as you embraced Smoke. The latter didn’t as he grinned at his twin. It was an asshole thing to do, but he couldn’t help it. He had been watching the two of you pine after one another for years. If Smoke had a dime for every time he tried to convince his brother that you felt the same way about him that he felt about you—or to get Stack to confess his feelings for you—boy, he’d be rich.
It was your last night in town, and the three of you went out. You were currently dancin' with some random nigga from round the way. Stack watched you like a hawk, grillin' the hell outta the man who had your attention. Smoke couldn’t do anything but laugh at his brother’s expense.
“Nigga you got it bad,” he said with a chuckle.
“Shut up, bitch. You got it just as bad for her sister,” Stack shot back.
“Sho’ll fuck do. Don’t give a fuck who knows either.” Smoke shrugged blowing a cloud in Stack’s direction.
“Yeah, whatever.” Stack muttered, takin' a sip of his beer.
“Mmhmm, whatever shit, nigga. Could be you out there dancin' with her, tryna cop a feel. Instead, you’re here,” Smoke teased.
“It ain’t like that with us, Smoke.” He denied.
For the life of him, Smoke couldn’t understand why Stack was in denial about you. It was like he was purposely standing in his own way, unwilling to accept a good thing.
“Have I ever been wrong about a woman tryna throw her pussy at you?”
“Nah,” Stack grumbled, his defenses slowly crumbling.
“Aight then, nigga. Listen for once.” Smoke said, playfully mushing the side of Stack’s head as he stood up to head to the bar.
“Aye, watch out.”
“Girl follows you around the world, and you still questionin' shit,” Smoke called over his shoulder.
He could only shake his head at the memory. Smoke swore dealin' with y’all shit was gonna put him in an early grave.
Once the two of you released one another from the hug, you walked back toward your sibling, and Smoke did the same.
“You good, man?” Smoke asked, knowing full well he wasn’t. He just wanted to see if he was ready to be honest with himself.
“Yeah, uh, I’m good.” Stack cleared his throat before repeatin', “I’m good.”
“Good.” He patted his brother on the back. “Now let’s get to work.”
Now, you knew you was comin' to work, but you ain't expectin' to be put through the wringer! As much as y’all got on each other’s last nerves during the setup, it was all part of the charm. Smoke being the bossy one, always puffin’ up his chest like everybody ain’t already know he ran the place; Cornbread, with his big ass, ain’t stop complainin' 'bout how heavy them boxes was; Delta always droppin' “back in my day” stories like they was gospel every five minutes. And Stack? He was slick, finessin' Preacher Boy into doin' part of his work in the name of “respectin' your elders.”
Not to mention you, Grace, and Annie, makin' one little complaint 'bout the heat, which led to Bo shakin’ up a bottle of beer and lettin' it spray all over y’all like a makeshift sprinkler system to “cool y’all off.” But this? This was the stuff you cherished. These were the moments you missed. After hours of busting your backs, the grand opening was here, and the party was in full swing.
You found yourself wrapped up in Stack’s arms, your back pressed against his solid front. The sweet sound of southern blues wrapped around you like a warm embrace. Ain’t nothing like live music from home, and tonight, the air was thick with rhythm. Effortlessly, your body flowed with the beat, swayin' in a circle until you found yourself once again meetin' Stack's chest. One of his arms hung loosely around your waist, his fingers barely grazing your skin, followin' the pace of your movements like it was second nature.
“So, this is new,” you teased, glancing back at him.
“What’s that?” Stack’s voice was low, his eyes glued to the way your hips moved, like he was tryin' to memorize every curve.
Stack thought you was downright gorgeous, and it drove him crazy. He wished he could tell you every single day how beautiful you were. Your body? It made his heart race. Big hips, thick thighs, and those legs that seemed to go on for days. That dress you wore? It gave him a perfect view of your curves, and he found himself lost in thoughts he shouldn’t be havin’.
“You dancin' with me,” you said louder, breakin' him outta his daydream.
“I’ve danced with you before,” he replied, a hint of challenge in his tone.
You leaned your head back further, givin' him a smirk. “Not like this.”
Stack’s grip around your waist tightened, the two of you still swayin’ to the music. “What’s this?” His breath brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine that you tried your best to ignore.
“Like you tryna work your way into my drawls,” you shot back, playful but with a hint of seriousness.
“And if I am?” he shot back, spinning you around so you faced him, his gaze intense.
You were momentarily stunned, your eyes searchin’ his for any signs of this bein' a joke, you arms now loosely around his shoulders.
“Smoke told you.” you said, his words heavy like a weight on your chest, but it felt more like a statement than a question.
You knew Smoke couldn’t keep his mouth shut when it came to his brother. Stack had ditched you and Smoke for the night to run off with some floozy and you were hurting bad. Especially after the way he had been flirting with you day after day. After an attempt at drowning your feeling in a bottle of whiskey, you had confessed your undying love for Elias Moore to his other half after the world became a bit too blurry. The truth came spillin' out like vomit, then afterwards, literal vomit. You could curse the ground Smoke walked on for lettin' it slip.
Stack watched as the gears turned in your head, his eyes dropping to your bottom lip, which you had pulled between your teeth. He chuckled softly, still swayin' with you, but the tension was thick.
“Smoke been tryna tell me for years,” he confessed, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again.
He wasn’t sure if he was talkin' 'bout Smoke tryin' to get him to accept his own feelings or the ones you held for him.
It was the way you cared for him. In every way. You checked on his well being constantly. The effects of the war on smoke were clear. He had his issues and one of them Stack always took care of. Rolling his cigarettes, making certain shit easier for Smoke every chance he got. Stack was the suffer in silence type. No I didn’t know the trauma he had suffered. He preferred everybody think he was OK. But you saw right through him. You seem to be able to tell every time something took him back there the lifeline you’d reach out of your hand, holding his gentle caresses to the top of his hand, which is the tiniest of squeezes that will bring him back and remind him that he was here and safe and with you. Stack was the type to suffer in silence, keepin' his struggles close to his chest. But you? You saw right through him. You could tell when something haunted him, and each time, you’d reach out, holdin' his hand, givin' him that gentle squeeze to remind him he was safe with you.
You were everything to Stack.
The air between you two shifted, thickening with unspoken words and feelings.
“When did it click?” Your heart raced, the world around you fading away.
Y’all had stopped movin’, probably the only two still in the crowd of people dancing and signing having a time.
“The one you left.” Stack admitted, feeling a bit guilty for only realizing how deep his feelings and love for you really were.
Speechless you pulled away from him completely, mouth opening and closing as you stuttered trying to find the right words to say. Overwhelmed with emotion and not quite sure what to do with yourself you turned around to scurry away when he grabbed your hand and pulled you back to him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on now. Why you runnin'?” He was holding you again, bobbing his head around trying to catch you eye as you avoided his.
“Elias, you drunk,” you said, your voice shaky.
“Baby, I ain’t had a sip of liquor,” he replied, his grip on your chin gentle, forcing you to look at him.
Big brown eyes searched yours, filled with a truth that made your heart swell with love.
“Y/n,” he started, but just then—
“Stack!” Smoke’s voice cut through the moment like a hot knife through butter.
You two pulled apart at the sound of his brother calling.
“Let me holla at you for a minute,” Smoke beckoned, clearly oblivious to the tension hangin' in the air.
You could see Stack was ready to protest, but you stopped him, gently cupping the side of his face in your hands. Stack might not have been running off liquid courage, but you had dug deep for some courage and found enough bravery to push through.
You pressed a soft kiss to the side of his cheek, and then another right next to the corner of his mouth, lettin' your lips linger just a moment longer.
“Go. We’ll talk later,” you assured him, pulling away with a grin as you turned to find a seat at the bar y’all had been swayin’ next to.
It wasn’t long before Stack's arms wrapped around you from behind.
“Count on it,” he whispered, kissing the side of your neck, sending warmth flooding through you.
You flushed at the feeling of his lips on your skin, that deep baritone voice igniting a fire you didn’t know you had.
You couldn’t wait until later. But unfortunately, later never came.
༄.° ┊ sammie “preacher boy” moore x farmer’s daughter! black! fem! reader
༄.° ┊ showin’ your favorite preach you around the farm!
༄.° ┊ fluff! mentions of racial discrimination! 30s in the south! cussing! sammie is a painful flirt!
the sun hung low, languid and lazy, like molasses drippin’ off a spoon. the dry earth, history buried beneath the sediment, fills the air, paired harmoniously with the faint sweetness of wild honeysuckle. thick dust floated in narrow golden rays. you sat easy in the saddle of your old mare belle, made tangles like summer vines and dark eyes steady as fading light. horses out here weren’t just animals— they were partners, pullin’ wagons, hullin’ shit loads of wood and carrying’ you throw the stick southern heat when dirt roads turned to mud.
your curls/coils sprung wild and free, summer vines climbing a fence. your momma always said, “they perfect just the way god made ‘em.”
you wore a soft, faded-colored— maybe a sun-washed blue or purple (passed down from your mother), and sturdy boots you’ve stomped in a million fields.
down the outstretched dirt lane, the rumble of a worn-out car cut through the quiet. dust kicked up and curled behind like a restless ghost, swirling lazy and fed in the fading sun. the car was battered and dusty— no polish or shine to hide the miles or journeys it endured.
but, it carried who you’d been waitin’ for.
you excitedly slid from belle’s back, boots crunching’ on dry straw and lil’ bugs if you bend down and squint. you stepped toward the porch where sammie’s folks stood. his mama’s soften behind tired smiles, and his papa’s face weathered but kind. you wiped dust off your calloused hands on your faded dress and politely tipped your head in greeting.
“afternoon, mrs. moore, mr. moore,” you said gentle, voice carryin’ just enough warmth to settle in the evening air, “glad ya’ll made it safe. lovely to see you.”
mrs. moore nodded, “thank you, missy. pleasure to see you as well.” mr. moore gave a slow, steady nod that felt like a promise.
you stepped back, immediately catchin’ sammie’s chestnut eyes from across the hard. he was leaning against your porch, that stupid, easy grin tugging at his lips already.
“ooo look who’s showin’ up all fancy,” you teased, voice soft and teasin’ like a breeze through magnolia leaves. “preacher boy.”
he cocked his head, slow and shook like molasses syrup, eyes bright, catching the golden sun. “n/n,” he returned the energy.
you titled your head, e/c eyes twinkling, “still got that damn guitar?”
he smirked, steppin’ a lil closer, “still got that damn toast piss on ya dress too.”
you laughed easy, the sound warm and bright. before you knew it, he was pulling you in real close, arms wrapped around you like a worn quilt— familiar, steady, safe.
“reckon if you keep ol’ boy out the house too long, he gon’ get dirty,” you nodded toward the guitar rested by the porch. he didn’t even bring the case— he was planning to have that thing in his hands all day.
after a moment, you pulled back, eye’s gleamin’, “come on, i wanna show you somethin’.”
| ⟡ ˙🐎 ̟
you led sammie into the barn, the smell of hay and horse settlin' like a warm blanket. belle stood patiently, her big brown eyes peering down on you both with a quiet trust. a horse whined nearby, the sound carryin' soft and sure in the evening air.
"this here's belle," your voice steady and admirable as you step up, "she's stubborn as a mule, but she pulls her weight," you scratch behind her ear, " we use her to haul the wagon, carry wood, and when them roads get slick, she's the only way to town."
sammie reached out, fingers brushing through belle's mane, a slow smile playing on his lips, "she's got that fire in her. like you."
you laughed, pearly whites catching the light, "wait till you meet ol' blue-- he's got a mind of his own. but, i'll save that interaction for later. "
the horses stood quiet as the sun dipped low, the orange rays bleeding into the large open windows and cracks through the wood.
you reached for the stiff-bristled brush hanging on a hook and handed it to sammie. "here," you said softly, "this one's for takin' the dust off. gotta brush in the same direction as their hair, slow and steady."
sammie took the brush, fingers unsure but eager, and you guided his hand gently down belle's neck. the mare shivered, leaning into the touch as if she knew she was in good hands.
"see?" you smiled, "she likes that. horses don't take kindly to rough hands."
he laughed, a little embarrassed, but careful, brushing with slow, gentle strokes. "like with people, huh?"
you nodded, heart flutterin' in that chest of yours, "yep," you popped the p. "gotta be real patient and kind, or they'll let 'cha know real quick."
as he brushed, you slid close, fingers brushing against his face to straighten his hat. "you doin' just fine, preacher boy," you stead, voice low and warm.
he grinned, eyes getting yours, the world shrinking to the quiet barn, the scent of hay and the simple rhythm of two hearts getting to know each other.
| ⟡ ˙🌿 ̟
you started walking back, boots crunchin’ over dry straw and dirt. voices drifted from nearby, your daddy and sammie’s papa deep in talk.
“yeah man,” your daddy said, wipin’ sweat from his brow, “them white folks—no mercy. we got the best crops in the south, yet they always turn away.”
“aye man,” sammie’s papa said slow, placin’ a hand on your daddy’s shoulder, “they don’t deserve it. you have an abundance of goods, and when god...”
“here he go,” sammie muttered low beside you, makin’ you chuckle softly.
“heard through the grapevine that you been lazin’ on them bible verses?” you teased him, elbow nudgin’ his ribs.
“cause,” he spread his arms wide, “the blues. it’s callin’ me.”
you turned the conversation light again, talking about the chow family’s grocery stores.
“yup, we one the reasons they still in business,” you said, boots crunching over dry straw, “but,” you dropped your voice, “they don’t be telling folks where they get the produce from, ‘specially white folks.”
“why don’t they tell us?” he asked, eyes catching how your hands and head moved as you talked.
“news spreads like wildfire. you tell somebody, then they tell somebody else—’round an’ ’round it goes.”
| ⟡ ˙🐓 ̟
later, you both bent low in the henhouse, picking eggs nestled safe in straw. hens clucked and shuffled nearby.
you crouched low by the henhouse, the wooden slats rough against your palms, the smell of straw and feathers thick in the air. soft clucks and gentle fluttering surrounded you as hens shuffled around, scratching at the dirt with their little feet. nestled in the corner, eggs sat safe in nests of golden hay — some smooth and white, others speckled like they’d been kissed by the sun itself.
sammie eased down beside you, eyes wide and curious, like a boy seeing something new for the first time. “you scared a chicken gon’ nip at ya?” you teased, nudgin’ him playfully with your elbow.
“no!” he said quick, voice a little too loud, cheeks flushing like a summer rose.
you laughed, that easy, warm sound you loved to hear. “you sweeter than honey!” you kee-kee’d, brushing a stray feather from his collar. “they ain’t gon’ do nothin’.”
a plump hen clucked nearby, peckin’ at the dirt right by your boot, making sammie jump back and chuckle, eyes crinklin’ with amusement.
“here,” you whispered, holdin’ out an egg you’d just gathered, smooth and warm in your hand. “look how delicate it is, but still holds so much life.”
sammie reached out, fingers just barely brushin’ yours as he took the egg, careful not to crack it. “like you,” he murmured, eyes meeting yours, soft and steady.
your heart stumbled, caught in that quiet moment where the world seemed to slow just for the two of you.
“reckon i like this part,” he said, voice low. “feels... simple, good.”
you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “me too.”
for a moment, all the weight of the world outside that henhouse faded away, and there was just you, sammie, and the soft rhythm of life around you — warm, gentle, and full of promise.
| ⟡ ˙🐄 ̟
then came the milkin'.
you showed sammie how to kneel beside the old cow, its breath warm and heavy, the pail set steady beneath. your fingers worked slow and gentle, squeezing just right till the milk splashed white and cool. his fingers brushed yours, a spark in the fading light, he laughter at the awkwardness of the first try.
later, the goat. smaller, quicker, and feisty. she nuzzled your hands, sometimes nipping playful. you grinned, “reckon she’s testin’ who’s boss.”
sammie grinned back, more confident now, as the two of you worked together, hands wet and warm in the soft southern dusk.
after the last splash of milk settled in the pail, you wiped your hands in your dress; the cool evenin’ breeze catchin’ stray curls around your face. sammie watched you with that quiet smile that made you heart beat a little faster, a soft rhythm beneath the orange clouds.
“you did good,” you nudged him gently with your elbow.
“not near as good as you,” he replied, eyes shinin’.
you laughed, the sound light as wind through the tall grass. “come on,” you reached down to grab the basket sittin’ by the barn door— handwoven from sweet grass and pine needles, the work of you and your momma’s patient hands. the basket was sturdy— but delicate, the kind that smelled faintly of earth and sunshine, perfect for holdin’ treasures of the land.
you led sammie down the path where wild blackberry brambles tangled thick, their deep purple fruit heavy and ripe against the thorny branches.
“these here berries,” you informed, kneeling low and shaking him how to pick gentle so the berries didn’t squish, “are sweet like honey, but need careful hands.”
sammie crouched beside you, fingers fumblin’ but eager as he reached out to pluck a berry, holdin’ it up like some rare jewel.
“like you,” he tugged at your heartstrings (again), eyes catching yours.
your heart bloomed like the wildflowers nearby. a soft laugh escapes through your nose and you shake your head.
together you filled the basket with the summer bounty— dark jewels against the green, catching the light like tine promises of sweetness and hope.
“beg momma’s for a pie bakin’ when we get back,” you whispered, tongue flickin’ over your lips.
“hungry ass,” sammie teased before getting tapped upside the head. he laughed it off, the sound warm and easy, rumbling his chest.
all around, the world was heavy with history and struggle, but also quiet hope— like the sort hum of a blues guitar on a summer night, raw and real, but full of somethin' that could carry you through.
hey hope ya’ll enjoyed !! second time ever publishing a fic so lemme know what ya’ll think of this one xx
Warnings: Friends to Lovers| oral sex (fem recieving)| slight aftercare
Word Count: 1.3k
Summary: After Sammie's performance, he takes you to the stockroom.
As soon as the lock turned, Sammie wasted no time pressing his lips against yours. Despite the suddenness, it didn't surprise you, and with the way your eyes fluttered closed, you welcomed it, gently pressing your lips back against his. Your hand sliding up his arm, rounding the curve of his shoulder before settling on his cheek, the skin soft under your touch. Underneath your palm, you felt the way his jaw softly shifted as his lips kissed you with need.
Both of your bodies were desperately bursting to jump on each other, to tear away at any fabric that stood between their skin. Neither of you knew how much longer they could take. You'd both waited years for the right moment to confess. To bear your hearts, admitting that this connection ran deeper than just some 'lil friendship made as kids. That you both had desired each other. Feeling the way your skins tingled whenever you brushed past each other, the fleeting glances from opposite sides of the church pews, how after hugs, you’d both walk off, hoping the other would look back. The feeling dug in your souls, burning you both at night, which led your hands to soothe the ache, but it always came back.
Sammie’s movement takes you by surprise, letting out a small noise against his lips as his hand leaves your neck, sliding down your sides, hooking under your thighs to hoist you up. Resting you on the small clearing of the table, around you sat bags of flours and spices bought to support the night's meals. The move was quick, and by the time you opened your eyes, Sammie had already begun kissing down your chin. As much as he wanted you, he wasn’t gonna rush this. He was gonna peel you apart, one night after the other. His lips were glued to your skin, leaving your lips to trail down along your jaw, leading to your neck. Searching for the spot that made you weak, his hand sat softly behind your neck again, your body falling into his touch. His hips nudged your legs, slipping between the space of your thighs as he pressed himself closer. Sammie took his time, inspecting every inch of skin, taking note of how you swallowed.
When his lips finally sank into the crook of your neck, all control was gone. Your lips fell apart as he stole your breath, your hand curling behind his head, holding him in place. Lazily sucking on the skin, a quiet moan escaped you. Like the pounding beat of the band, the heat between you two began to swell. The fabric of your evening gown clung to your damp skin, chafing against your thighs as they started to warm. That’s when Sammie took his hand from your neck, caressing down your supple frame to bunch the hem of your dress in his hands. You moved without question, slightly raising your hips for the satin to collect at your waist. His lips landed idly on your skin, gradually lifting off of the now reddened, moist skin. With a breath, you leaned your head towards him, eyes of warmth meeting his. Ready.
"Lemme taste you…"
The words dropped straight between your thighs, pooling at your core. They squeezed under his heated gaze. Your breath caught in your chest, lips parting to protest, wanting to clean up for him, but the words never left your mouth as you watched him sink to his knees. Sammie swallowed heavily, hands brushing over the skin of your legs before slowly pulling them apart. His eyes met your panties, a simple white cotton pair with a soaked spot staring right back at him daringly. It was nothing he’d seen before but everything he’d dreamt of. His slacks strained tight at the sight.
“Please”
You nodded.
With careful hands, his fingers brushed under the elastic band, gently peeling the cloth from your swollen lips. His breath caught as he saw you. Bringing his head closer, he could feel the heat burning off you. By this point, you were aching, biting your lips in anticipation. Sammie shifted between you, littering small kisses along the inside of your thigh before pressing against your middle. The touch was soft. He pulled back, just a bit, catching your expression before he pushed his lips between your warm folds with closed eyes.
“Sammie” His name slipped past your lips before you could think.
You attempted to cover your mouth with your hand, but they never left the wood. Your head slowly lulled back, chest pushing forward, your nipples erect and firm poking through the fabric. His lips softened against you, tenderly running his tongue along the insides of your folds, Stack’s words whispering in his mind.
"You find it...Lick that. Not too hard, you ever had a scoopa' dat icecream from downtown?"
"Bout the same pressure you put on dat"
Sammie left a parting kiss to your folds, raising his hands to gently spread you open. It was then that he saw what his cousin was talking about. That little pink button at the top of your cooze, poking out from the hood faintly flinched in thirst. Breath warm in anticipation, he leaned in.
"Ohh..." Your breath shuddered, the unsteadiness causing your eyes to open and set upon Sammie, his tongue against your aching clit.
Licking small, slow stripes before wrapping his lips around the firm bud. Sounds caught at your throat as his tongue curled around your clit, soaking in your moans as the music pounded against the walls. You danced along, hips rolling to meet his wandering tongue in rhythm.
When his name passed your lips again, he let out a muffled groan. Pushing his hands under your thighs to sit them on his shoulders, pushing his face deeper like he could melt against you. The desire to please you overrided any care of being caught. How his lips suckled and pulled your bud like a lollipop, he wanted people to hear you. Hear how good he made you feel.
“F-fuck” You whined, back rubbed against the potato sacks, occasionally arching when Sammie flicked his tongue the right way.
You were losing control of yourself, pushing your hand down onto Sammie's head, desperate to hold his head in place. Face scrunched in pleasure, brows knitted tight as you choked on your voice, the cries bleeding through the stockroom walls. Your body shifting with each breath.
“That's it…cum baby, I got you.” He groaned against your folds, flicking his tongue against your clit, coaxing you.
Everything felt warmer, the room, the bags under you, Sammies head between your legs, your breath, you felt it all. Your voice broke as the coil in your stomach snapped, back arching from the table. The sight was blinding, and all the more beautiful to Sammie, knowing he was the one who brought you this pleasure. Your hips bucked as the sensation sparked through your body, clit throbbing against his tongue. His mouth grew wet. His hands rubbed your thighs gently, holding you through the feeling, albeit overwhelming. Spent, you rested back against the table, chest rising and falling deeply. You barely felt Sammie let go of you, standing up and caressing your legs. He too was breathless, seeing you break for him. He took a hand to his chin, wiping at the liquid you'd left around his lips before passing it through his lips. The patrons across the wall cheered as the band finished their song, settling to a soft tune.
He took it on himself to dress you up, sliding your clothes back in place. Grabbing a look napkin from the shelf to pat the sweat from your skin. His throat felt thick, himself still aching without release but for now, he’d focus on you. You opened your eyes when the cloth met your face, petting at your cheek.
