Since I’ll be in the hospital for a while, I figured I’d post some my drafts for entertainment :)!
Summary: You and a troublesome man you like more than you let on…in the end it’s easy.
Contains: smut, a dash of degradation, established enough relationship, fat d!ck Stack because LOOK at him, country accents, rough s€x, manhandling, multiple ørgasms, overstimulation, he puts it zowwwwnnnn, gives you some of that “move yo hand”, mating press dirty talk, petnames, fucking filthy kissing, cuddles, and as per usual- this is for the ✋🏽 strictly for the ✊🏽
Stack purrs out against the bare leg that’s currently hiked over his broad shoulder, voice dripping with condescension that’s a lot sweeter than the way he’s fucking into you.
The question is mean but it has its intended effect.
Goosebumps break over the surface of your flushed skin, choking on a whiny moan, cunt pulsating so tightly around him that he can feel you in his bones. A flurry of hiccuping sobs pour from your mouth cause you’re close. Again. Ordinarily, you’d try to defend your good name since you really were in fact not easy…or at least not until you’d met Stack. You’d heard of him before but never had the pleasure of making his acquaintance until he came strolling through your moms shop one day and found you instead.
At first you were stunned just making eye contact with him. Lidded brown eyes, dimples, plump lips- the gold on his teeth glinting at you and damn he was tall. Strutting up to introduce himself to you, accent thick with charm. However, you’d already heard of him and his way of giving women the roundabout and you’d decided right then and there that you’d be damned 11 ways to Sunday before you ever caught yourself on your back or knees for him.
Unfortunately, he was as relentless as he was gorgeous. Steadily pursuing you with the devil in his eyes and a grin on those full lips. Always hanging around- then, he’d disappear. As indifferent as you tried to be, dancing around his advances with light giggles and playful hands, when he’d vanish, you’d find yourself missing his face- or rather- his way of being, more like. See, Stack had this carefree almost cavalier demeanor but he was firm too. To you, that was his most attractive quality.
And he’d picked up on it. That you liked when he was a little firm with you.
From there all it took was a kiss.
Just barely brushing your lips when he leaned down, whispering teasingly against your lips, finger underneath your chin and you couldn’t keep the want from dripping out your eyes if you tried.
“Stop playing with me.”
To your surprise but not his- you listened.
Funny how you were so determined not to fall into his gravity and now look at you; sweat out hairstyle, sheer stockings ripped to hell along with your bra and underwear, being manhandled every which way, stretched out and creaming around the fattest cock you’ve ever had in your life as you moan in bliss- loving it.
Stack’s thrusts are deliciously brutal, hips snapping into yours while your legs hang over his shoulders like some harlot and sounding just like one, mouth dropped open while you cry and whine real pretty for him. Hissing through his teeth at the sight you make, Stack wedges his hands underneath the arch at the base of your back and grips tight- using your body as leverage to fuck into you even deeper. If the heat of the room wasn’t making you delirious then the way the fat head of his was smushing rough kisses into that soft patch of nerves would definitely do the trick. If this is what playing hard to get gets you then you’re seriously considering becoming a professional.
It gets to the point where your pussy is almost as loud as you are, prompting Stack to look down. A loud whistle barely makes it through the fog in your head and you try to bring your vision to focus. Your heart is going at least 100 miles per minute and you squeak as your legs are pushed so far back that your knees are touching your ears, Stack moving directly on top of you. Where the sudden flexibility came from you had no clue- but your awe is almost immediately overtaken by how full the new position has you feeling.
“O-oooh!”
Stack bites his lip as he watches your pretty face melt in pleasure, your normally sleepy eyes pop wide open, brows drawn together like you’re about to cry, lips forming that sexy ‘o’ as he slows down his strokes- letting you feel every inch of him. You were so gorgeous. Naked curves and soft skin crashing and rolling back into him then wrapping around even though you initially wanted damn near nothing to do with him. The thought makes him smirk in satisfaction until he’s brought out of his thoughts by the feel of your trembling hand just above where your bodies are connected. He pulls out halfway nice n slow, looking down to see what the fuss is and his heart almost pounds out of his chest.
Slathered all over his dick, is milky white. It streams out generously from your hole around where he’s stuffed in and Stack feels himself start to lose his mind a little bit as he moans out,
“Yeahhh mamas, she’s real easy f’me…”
He doesn’t take his eyes off your cunt as he slams back in with a wet ‘plap’- throwing his head back with a deep groan. The sound is so primal it sends nasty shivers up your spine but you don’t move your hand and he’s folding you even deeper, lowering his upper body almost completely against yours, pelvis grinding against your clit and you gasp wetly. Stack is wild, sucking bruising kisses into your neck, tongue trailing hotly up to your mouth to claim it in a deep kiss. It’s consuming. His big tongue flattening against yours in maddening swipes, sucking the muscle sloppily into his own mouth making you lightheaded- blood rushing through your ears as he starts his hips up again, grinding away at that spot inside you but not quite as deep and he pulls away.
He watches you gasp desperately, moving not even an inch away from your face as he nips at your bottom lip, soothing the sting with his tongue before whispering inside your mouth- eyes glazed,
“Move that hand, baby.”
Your name might as well be Sunday morning cause that’s exactly how easy you are, body obeying him before you even tell it to. As soon as you do, he doesn’t waste a second, big hands hook underneath your knees- railing you stupid. He’s not even trying to think straight, caught up in in not just the heat but how tight- how creamy- you are. Letting out a string of swears, he captures your mouth in another overwhelming kiss, cock aching while he swallows your wails as you twitch and shake around him.
You can’t take anymore. Stack gives another harsh, slick roll of his pelvis into your swollen nub while battering that tender spot inside you and you’re coming. And Jesus Christ on a bike- you’re coming hard. Clawing at Stack’s beefy muscles, a swarm of stars completely eclipse your vision while you’re shocked with wave after wave of vicious pleasure. You’re so loud you struggle recognize your own voice but Stack’s is clear as the ecstasy pumping through your body. Filthy words of praise and encouragement directly in your ear, prolonging your orgasm.
“Thaaat’s it, dollface.. aalll over me…”
Tears spill from your eyes and you’re close to tapping out when Stack buries his head into your chest, taking one of your puffy nipples into his mouth, thrusts slowing as he shoots deep inside your heat with a muffled groan, stuffing your hole to the brim until he pops off your tit with a satisfied sigh.
You’re tired, your back is killing you, and your shaking like a baby deer but a grin makes its way onto your lips regardless as Stack kisses all over you, pulling out slowly, warm eyes checking over your form for any sign of discomfort while you bask in the coziness after, closing your eyes to enjoy a much needed break until he interrupts it. Kissing your cheek in that tender way he does when he’s fixing to look after you.
“You okay? Ain’t hurtin’ none?”
You shake you head, eyes closed even as he pats you dry gently with his shirt, tossing on the floor when he’s done. Less sweaty, it’s easier for you to nap but something was missing. Reaching up, your hand swipes though the air as you blindly reach for him, eventually catching his chain as you yank him down next to you with a soft pleased little hum. Yes, you’d sleep just fine now.
And when you wake up?
You’re face to face with a big rock on your finger.
“here, baby” you said placing a plate of fried fish and baked macaroni and cheese in front of him. he thanked you before saying a quick prayer and digging in. you watched as he ate the food.
“this is good baby” he says, biting into the fried fish hissing a bit from the steamy food. “yeah? well, enjoy your last meal” you simply said taking a bite out of your food. smoke stopped eating as you he looked at you.
mouth still full of food, smoke looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “say, what?” he mumbled, slowly chewing. “enjoy your last meal? i want you to enjoy it while it lasts” you shrugged taking a bite out of your food.
“fuck do you mean my last meal? you tryna kill me or sum?” he swallowed his food as he dropped his fork back onto to the plate of macaroni and cheese and sitting back in his seat. “did i say that?” you looked towards him with an unreadable expression.
“well you’re fucking insinuating it” he continued to stare at your unbothered manner before looking at the food and then back at you. “did you poison me?” “no?” “then why are you sayin’ this is my last meal?” “because why not?” you shrugged once as you calmly ate your food.
“ain’t this bout a bitch, i’m not eating this shit” he got up from the table with a huff and left the dining room. you giggled as you hurriedly got up and ran after him as he was making him way into his office. “well, you don already ate most of it soooo it’ll settle in soon enough” you smirked as you watch him put his head in his hands.
smoke looked up, “i thought you said, you ain’t poison me man” “did i?”
𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗖𝗞
“here, elias” you passed him his food after grabbing it from the worker and drove off. he opened the bag and started to unwrap his food as he took a bite out of it. you drove for a while before stopping at a red light. you looked at him from the side of your eye. “babe?” you called out.
“hm?” he hummed chewing the food. “is it good?” you asked keeping your sight on the rode. “yea, why?” he spoked looking at you and then taking a sip of his drink. “for real? enjoy your last meal” you replied, driving as soon as the light turned green.
stack straight spit the food out as soon as he rolled down the window. he then grabbed the bag and drink before tossing them as well. you looked at him in shock as you kept driving. “why would you do that babe” you laughed as you looked at him before looking at the road.
“ ‘cause, i don’t know what fuck shit you on but, i’m not for it” he shrugged reclining in his seat. “why would i tamper with your food baby?” you smiled turning onto a street. “ion know, you can’t trust anybody these days not even your own significant other” he simply said. “baby, i was just joking” you laughed.
“well, joke yo ass back there and buy me some more since you wanna play with a nigga food”
a/n: okay so i finally got around to writing a sinners fic…took me almost a year but i finally wrote it chile. also i’m ngl, whenever i see mbj, i get a lil irritated bc he’s fine asf and i know i can’t have him lmao. anyways, i had this idea during my nightly scenario before bed, hope y’all like it!! i just had to add some more loverboy!Stack into the mix! Just a fluffy little fic, before i get into the weeds of a smut piece…enjoyyyy😗🫶🏾
wc: 1.8k
There could be a lot said about Elias “Stack” Moore. He was hardheaded, a slick talker, and dangerous. Keen on having all his suits tailored to perfection, he nevver stepped out without the matching tie and pocket square, tie clip, hat—every element meticulously chosen.
Some nights you’d finish your entire night routine, nestling yourself right into the covers ready to finally get some sleep after a long day, just for your husband—who’d probably had an even longer day—to keep you up with his antics.
“How you feel about this one baby?” He asks, stepping out of your shared closet with a silky red tie in his hands.
“Looks like the ten other ties you’ve shown me, Elias,” you huff, trying to keep your smirk down, knowing that’d get him a little frustrated. He took the little details very seriously. And right on schedule, he kisses his teeth and sends a pointed glare in your direction before retreating back into the closet.
“No vision,” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.
“I should lock you and that vision of yours in the damn closet so I can get some sleep,” you grumble, just wishing he’d just get in the bed already.
“You know you can’t just lock all this pimpin’ in the closet, pretty girl,” sending a sly grin with a wink in your direction, he turns out all of the lights, finally putting his outfit planning antics to bed for the night.
Stack even made sure his brother, Smoke—who couldn’t care less about what he was wearing unless the job got done—was put together. Because in Stack’s words, “I have a reputation to uphold,” and “If you got my face you gotta look the part.” He practically considered it his “duty” to stay fly. So naturally, when you two got together, he did the same with you. Despite your countless objections, he was insistent on having some of your dresses custom made, making sure he had the best seamstress in town—who just so happened to be your mother—have a nice pocket square and tie made out of the extra fabric. In fact, Stack was your mama’s best customer—always insisting on damn near doubling whatever she asked for, which was already too low in his opinion. He was never one to turn down an opportunity to remind everyone that you were his, and most importantly, that he was all yours.
You had one more fitting for the dress Elias commissioned your mother to make over Sunday dinner a few weeks back, and he was more than willing to take you. Already heading into town to handle some business with Smoke, your husband brings you along to drop you off at your mother’s shop. But that plan was on the verge of falling apart since he practically held you hostage in the car. Trapping you with “just one more kiss baby” after every kiss. And even then, if you so much as thought about touching a door in his presence, he’d throw a fit. It wasn’t until you reminded your oh so affectionate husband that all the ladies in the shop, including your mother, along with everyone walking down the street could see you two and that his brother would come looking for him if he was late, that he stopped coming in for more kisses. And not to anyone’s surprise, only the threat of his brother got him moving right along.
You blissfully spent the next two hours in your mother’s shop. You’d gotten all the best gossip, taking a mental note of all the details and questions you’d bring back to Stack, who to his credit, always patiently listened and indulged in whatever gossip fell into your lap. You went back and forth with your mama, insisting she could bring the neckline down just a little, huffing and puffing that you were grown and married, until she begrudgingly gave in. You got to recount bits and pieces of your married bliss, the two younger girls in the room hanging onto your every word as if you were reciting the best fairytale ever written. And you even managed to successfully dodge any questions related to why you’d been married for a little over a year now with no baby Moore on the way. You’d consider the day a success.
“And I don’t know why I need a new dress. Elias said it’s for when he takes me dancin’, but we just went out last weekend,” you reason, trying to figure out what he was up to.
“You know that boy love to spoil you Y/n,” one woman pipes up, stopping her work on the garment in front of her to give you a knowing look.
“Maybe he wanna—,“ but before the young girl could even finish her starry-eyed guess the small bell above the front door rings, forcing everyone’s attention in that direction. And speaking of the devil, in walks your husband with a toothpick between his teeth and a smile brighter than all the stars combined.
“Well ain’t you just prettiest thing the Delta done ever seen,” Stack muses, pulling the toothpick from between his teeth and taking in your red clothed form. Your cheeks immediately warm up at the grandeur of his compliments. It didn’t help that you were front and center in the room, standing right on the small platform with the threefold mirror staring right back at you.
Walking further inside, he takes the structured hat off of his head and greets all the women, stopping to properly greet your mother with a hug and kiss on the cheek.
“Ain’t she so pretty,” he adds, stepping right up to your side, taking in the dress that was in his signature crimson, it hugged your body perfectly, the delicate pattern catching the light just right. The unanimous hum of approval from all the ladies only makes your cheeks hotter.
He then lifts your left hand in his and plants a delicate kiss to your jeweled ring finger as he admires you through the mirror in front of you.
“Hell, all of Mississippi ain’t got shit on you,” he breathes out, taking all of you in one more time.
“You better watch that mouth Elias,” Mrs. Bea grumbles from your right side, causing your mother to snicker behind you—already being somewhat used to his potty mouth.
“Now how you doin’ Ms. Bea,” Stack beams sweetly, peeking out from your side to flash the golds in his mouth to the older woman across from him.
“Doin’ fine. Would be better if you stopped all that cussin’,” she shoots back, causing you and everyone in the shop to erupt into laughter.
“Now I can’t make no promises ‘bout that ma’am,” Stack truthfully confesses.
“Plus ya girl right here love it when I cuss real good,” his eyes are locked squarely on yours, a sinful glint blooming behind them. By now, your husband is grinning from ear to ear, the dimple on his left cheek on full display. You were just itching to poke it if that meant he’d stop.
“Boy you better stop, you know this girl gon’ burst into flames,” your mother snickers, placing the last pin in place for alterations. Was everyone out to get you right now?!
“Alright baby, you can go take this off, should be done by the end of the week,” she adds, helping you down from the platform alongside Elias.
“Thanks mama,” you softly breathe out, the corners of your mouth curling up into a gracious smile as you squeeze her hand. She reciprocates with a soft smile and sends you off on your way to go change.
“Need some help Mrs. Moore?” He offers, his voice laced with nothing but sin and a smirk plastered across his face to match. Your head immediately whips in his direction, eyes screaming, begging for him to stop. You step in closer to him, palms planted on his chest, eyes searching his for any hint of sense.
“Can you wait outside for me, I’ll be right out. I promise,” you whisper sweetly, gripping onto his suit lapels, smoothing out the crisp edges. While you were trying to be firm, you couldn’t stop yourself from your senses being pleasantly overwhelmed with the scent of his cologne mixing with the tobacco from his cigarettes.
“Nah, I’m good right here babygirl,” Elias pokes back, enjoying the way he was making you blush.
“If you go wait in the car, I’ll be real sweet to ya when we get home,” you lean up to whisper right in his ear, softly and ever so slightly pressing your body against his, knowing his ultimate weakness was you.
“That’s all you had to say, woman,” your husband beams, lightly wrapping a hand around your forearm and planting a small kiss to your lips before stepping away from you. You send a wink his way before turning towards the changing rooms, Ms. Bea following behind you, giving Stack a pointed look—almost daring him to watch you walk away. And he still did anyway.
“And before you even ask, I already set aside some extra fabric for that tie and pocket square of yours,” your mother informs, cleaning up her workspace.
“You know you my favorite mother-in-law right?” He proudly asks, earning a couple laughs from some of the women in the room and earning an eye roll from your mother.
“Gotta be able to match my favorite lady,” he proudly states, his smile softening at the thought.
“I’m gon’ get out y’all’s way now. The missus wants me gone I suppose,” Stack continues, feigning hurt as he carefully places the hat back on his head.
“I’ll see you on Sunday,” he finishes, giving your mom one final hug and kiss to the cheek and making his way to the door, sending a small wave to the other women in the room.
“That mean I’ll see you at church too, right?” Your mom quips, already knowing the answer.
“I don’t know about all that now,” your husband laughs, shaking his head as he pushes the door open, stepping out into the hot Mississippi air.
You can hear the ladies chatting back and forth as you carefully take off the dress in progress and put your original outfit back on.
“He sure is some trouble, that Elias Moore,” one woman grumbles, eyes looking towards your mother as she gets her own alterations done.
“But ain’t he just so sweet to her?” A much younger seamstress sighs, completely entranced with yours and Elias’ love story.
“That he is,” your mom replies to them both.
“But they a perfect match, that’s for sure,” she continues, looking out of the window to see Stack leaning against the car puffing at a cigarette and a bright image of your smile whenever you’re with him etched into her mind.
And you in the dressing room, hearing all the chatter, were fighting back the widest smile—the kind that hurt a little if you smiled for too long. Because it was true—you and Elias were a perfect match.
