Synopsis: Stack absolutely hates when you post on social media.
Warnings: Heavy Smut, degrading, overstimulation, Stack is insatiable, pregnant sex, cursing, use of N word, overstimulation, squirting, Stack talks you through it.
Part 1
Part 2
MINORS DNI
-
You were the perfect picture of innocence. A rare beauty that stopped anyone dead in their tracks, with a smile so warm they could practically melt. A southern belle with an accent thick enough to make anyone swoon. You had always been the center of attention and yet remained humble enough to ignore it.
You also ignored all the boys that tried to tie you down, not interested in the cookie cutter, goodie two shoes that were convinced they’d be perfect for you.
Your mother begged you to settle down with a good man like Johnny, who goes to church every Sunday, or Thomas, who was the pastors son. But you didn’t care for them, they bored you out of your mind. Too soft to handle you like how you truly wanted.
You were convinced that Mississippi didn’t have the version of the man you craved and that at some point you’d have to settle for one those men your mom kept trying to put you on to.
That was until the twins moved back. You hadn’t heard of them, too busy wrapped inside your own little world to worry about what others had going on but once they came back, the word spread like wildfire. The flames were big enough to knock the walls down of your domaine and the whispers echoed loudly in your ears.
“Heard they just came back from Chicago.”
“I heard they was over there stealing and killing people.”
“I’m surprised they ain’t locked up. Somebody should do something.”
You minded your business though, tended to your horses, dogs and your bakery business.
Cookies, pies, cakes, brownies and just about anything sweet that you could name, was your specialty. You started getting called Peaches for your obsession with making peach cobbler and handing it out to your neighbors. You had learned to cook and bake from a very early age, your mother making sure you knew how to throw down in the kitchen so that you could impress your potential husband.
But you didn’t care for that, you learned because you liked it, loved it actually, and eventually you took your talents elsewhere.
To Tik Tok.
Pink kitchen and utensils caught the attention of millions of people who liked to watch you do what you do best. You hadn’t expected the surge of attention, the videos only being posted in hopes to your reach your friends and family, but the algorithm had other plans. And so that’s how you spent your days, tending to your animals and baking sweets for your millions of fans and to share with your neighbors. Eventually you became the talk of the town, everybody wanted to try a piece of your desserts and before you knew it, you had people showing up at your doorstep asking for anything, a crumb even.
One night, while you were preparing sugar cookies, you heard a knock at your door that wasn’t frantic like it usually was. It was slow and loud. Just two knocks.
You wiped your hands on your pink apron, long curly light brown hair cascading down your back as you walk towards the entrance, the shorts you wore barely covered your ass and the cropped tank top hugged your upper body tight. You weren’t expecting anyone this late, no one usually showed up at this time.
The clock ticked to 11PM just as your hand reached the handle. A man, who you hadn’t seen before, stood there in a all black suit. His face was expressionless but his eyes stayed on the way your cheeks reddened before they traveled down your body, zeroing in on the deep brown moisturized skin that glowed against the moonlight.
Something about his demeanor made your stomach turn, nerves clawing at your body, but there was something else, a heat hidden behind the fear.
“Oh. Hi! H-How may I help you?” Your voice was soft and something about it caused Stack’s jaw to tick slightly, that and the way you smelled of fresh vanilla and peaches.
“Evenin ma’am. Names’ Stack. My apologizes for disturbing you so late. I’m here on behalf of Mrs. Delphine, says her husband sick and in the hospital again, been craving sum of them lemon cookies you be making.”
His voice was deep and rough in a way that would send anybody else running. Accent slow like molasses and thick just like yours. Your thighs clenched before you could stop yourself.
“Oh um. Y-yeah. I have some. I just gotta pack them up for him. Um—” You hesitated, teeth sinking into your plush lip before mentally telling yourself ‘Fuck it’.
“Um— Do you want to come in and wait while I get everything together?”
Stack nodded, a small smirk appeared on his lips before he stepped inside your little world that you had carefully crafted for yourself.
And the rest was history.
Your viewers started to notice the change, the way you recorded videos with a smile so wide you’d think the measuring cups had told you a joke. They noticed how softer you were, the dreamy look on your face and the way you just glowed.
Assumptions about a man being in the picture were in almost every single video you posted. You didn’t bother confirming nor denying anything. Just let them keep guessing.
Until you popped out with a ring on your finger. You weren’t even bothering on being discreet, your perfectly manicured hand was all in the camera as you recorded how you baked a cheesecake. The boulder on your finger catching the light and making its presence known.
You tried to remove the ring, your audience too distracted by it to pay attention to what you were making but Stack wasn’t having that. Not one bit.
“Stop fucking playin with me. Put that shit back on.”
He groaned as he watched the video you had posted without it. Stack didn’t even have a tik tok account before you, didn’t even care about anything pertaining to social media. But once the two of you got together, he made sure to watch anything you posted.
‘User3829928’ liked your video.
He didn’t even bother making a name for himself, didn’t care to post or even watch anything else. His only purpose was to watch you. Sometimes you’d post things to get under his skin. A picture with a miniskirt that was wayyyy too short. A dress that hugged your curves too tight for a video on how to make homemade ice cream. Or starting a ‘get ready with me’ video in a silk robe that showed a little too much for him. Each time ended with you on your knees, attempting to apologize to him as he fucked your throat. You promised you wouldn’t do it again through tears that seeped through the pillow case while he fucked you silly.
But you never kept your promises.
-
You shouldn’t have done it, but you were frustrated beyond belief. Stack had left early that morning with the lie stuck on his lips that he’d return in time to make cupcakes with you. It was a cute little tradition the two of you had started since you first got together.
Every Friday, the two of you would spend the day baking or cooking something. Anything.
Last Friday, Stack wanted tomato soup and grilled cheese. So the two of you spent the day making that, even had more than enough to send over to Smoke and Annie.
This Friday though, you and the small little bean growing inside of your belly were craving cupcakes and Stack had given you his word. Said he just had a few errands to run with Smoke and that he’d be back early enough to bake the cupcakes so that they’d be ready by dinner time.
By 5PM you were still waiting for him, the pout on your face deepened as you texted him for the 8th time in the past 10 minutes.
By 5:30 you have had enough. You changed into a red halter top, mini dress that Stack had specifically bought just for you to wear for him, fluffed out your curls and touched up your makeup. You grabbed your phone, set it up on the tripod in the kitchen and started the live.
Comments flooded in seconds, compliments being thrown left and right. Some from the ladies but most from men.
“Hi guys!” You waved to the camera, the stack of bracelets dancing loudly on your wrist. “It’s a bit late but I was planning on making cupcakes so I figured you guys would like to join me.” Your smile was sweet, as it always was. No one suspected your ulterior motives.
No more than 5 minutes of you starting, your iPad started ringing. Your phone, which was placed on DND, recorded as you watched your iPad ring before shutting it off.
It only took Stack 20 minutes to drive home. You were distracted, too deep into explaining your recipe to notice him walk into the kitchen. His heavily tatted arms were crossed across his chest, his body stiff behind your phone. White T shirt clung to his muscles, black jeans handing low on his hips, some Jordan’s and chains sitting heavy on his pretty neck.
“Okay so make sure that you’re adding enough vanilla extract or it’s going to taste like—” You jumped once you noticed him, heart racing loudly in your chest. The viewers noticed, half concerned, half excited to maybe get a glimpse of your man.
“Is that him?”
“Omg don’t tell me we’re about to meet Mr.Peaches himself.”
“Guys have you noticed that she looks a bit pregnant here?”
Stack eyed you. Fully. From the top of your head, down to the French tip pedicure on your toes. He clenched his jaw as he looked at the dress you wore.
“End the live fa me, baby.” You bit the side of your bottom lip, eyes wide and staring up at him. Somewhat embarrassed that this was happening on live, somewhat turned on from the intensity of his stare.
“I—I’m not done, papa.”
“I know you ain’t done but we gotta talk, so end the live.”
“Ooop not my good sis done fucked up”
“Shiiiitttt girl he sound like he not playing, ga head and end the live.”
“Why do I feel like I’m the one getting in trouble?”
You nodded. “Okay guys, I’ll see yall in a bit.” The screen went dark as soon as the live ended. You locked your phone and placed it on the counter. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you but pretended not to.
“You like playing with me?” Stack slowly walked up to you.
“Stack—”
“Nah, answer me. You like pissing me off?” He stood right in front of you, arms on either side, holding on to the counter behind you. He leaned down and it took everything in you not to throw yourself into his warmth. He smelled of cologne and weed, scent strong enough to make you dizzy with desire.
“No…” your lips formed a pout, eyes wide in the way you knew could get you anything you wanted. His lips twitched, trying hard not to smirk at how cute you looked. “Get ya ass upstairs. Now.”
“But-”
“Now, baby.”
You nodded, and headed up the stairs with him trailing behind you. He didn’t like being mean to you, you were too sweet for that, but he was never afraid to put you in your place.
You sat at the edge of the bed and waited for him to walk in, your nerves were through the roof but you also lived for the thrill and he knew that. Stack’s steps were heavy, you expected him to walk right to you, to grab you up and choke you like how he always does but instead he walks to the vanity that sat across from the bed. You watched the muscles on his back move, his big frame blocking what he was doing.
After a few seconds of messing around, he turned and walked to you. His hand gently gripped your jaw, thumb smoothing circles onto your skin. “You wanted my attention, mama? Huh? That’s why you did that?”
You nod, face formed into a pout. This wasn’t usual for him, the gentleness after you piss him off.
“Nah speak up. Tell me what the problem is.” Your breath stutters and eyebrows furrow in confusion. His voice was soft, the complete opposite of what you were expecting. “Speak, mama. I’m here now. Tell me what’s up.”
Your mouth opens, getting ready to spill your truth, to admit that your hormones and emotions were completely out of wack and all you wanted was your man.
Stack lowers down to his knees, his hands pull your dress up in one quick motion. A small gasp escapes your mouth when he presses a kiss to your knee, trailing his lips further up your thigh. “I don’t hear you.” He looks up at you, waiting for you to say something, anything.
“I—It’s just that I-” Stack spreads your legs further, prompting you to lean back on to your elbows. He digs his nose onto the damp spot of your panties, groaning at your scent. Your breathing picks up, hands already gripping onto the sheets and body slightly trembling.
“Mm, so fucking sensitive.” He places a kiss to your covered mound before gripping the sides of your underwear and pulling them down your legs. “I don’t hear you talking.”
You whimpered at the heat of his face so close to where you needed him the most. “Elias” You softly begged.
“Nah, none of that. I ain’t moving till you speak.”
You groan, laying your body down fully as your eyes stare up at the ceiling. “I just… I really wanted cupcakes and you promised me you’d make them with me—” Stack dug his face in your drenched pussy, tongue flattening on your clit before pulling back. A moan stops you mid sentence, eyes drifting down to him as you watch him spit. His fingers mix it with your essence before slowly pushing into your tight hole.
“Eliiiasssss” Your back arches, small belly bump covering the way he leans in and wraps his lips around your aching clit.
“I ain’t tell you to stop, did I?” His fingers curl inside of you, moving faster as his tongue continuously laps up your juices. “Talk to me. I’m listening.”
“F-Fuck!” Your moans mixed into whimpers, already feeling the coil forming in your stomach. “Don’t stop.” You gasped, eyes rolled to back of your head while Stack feasted on you.
He smacked the inside of your thigh with his free hand. “Keep talking or ima stop.” You felt him slow down, face slowly pulling back just as you were about to cum.
“Fuuuuckk, okay okayyy. I just, I needed you here—” Stack hummed in satisfaction, fingers continuing to slowly pump in and out of you while he watched you try not to fall apart. “A—And you were gone for a long time—” You couldn’t stop whimpering, pregnancy making you extra sensitive to his touch.
“Mhm and what else, mama?”
You squirmed, full body trembling from the feel of his fingers reaching deep inside of you as he slightly picked up his pace. “Eliasss fuucckkkk.”
“Keep going, you doing good, baby.” He placed kisses to your clit, holding you right at the edge of that breaking point.
“Fuccckkkk, I just needed you here. I needed your attention— I just wanted you, daddy.” You sounded so sultry, voice high and full of moans.
“Yeah? That’s all it was?” Stack puckered his lips around your clit again and let his tongue play with it. You cried out, hands reaching out to grab his head while your hips frantically moved up and down his face.
“Yes! Yes! That was all, daddy. I swear!” It didn’t take much for the restraint to snap, your juices decorated Stacks face and your body twisted and turned as if trying to find a place to store the pleasure you were feeling.
“You so fucking wet, my god.” Stack moaned as he sucked and licked every drop from you. He stood to his full height, hands immediately reaching for his shirt and removing it. Next was his pants, thrown to the side along with his boxers. You moaned at the sight of him, tattoos tracing his front and back, including your name right along the side of his neck.
Stack grabbed your body and turned you to the side, then laid right behind you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to his chest while the other one gripped your leg, lifting it high enough for your knee to reach his shoulder. “This what you wanted, right?” You felt the head of his dick nudge your folds, drenching it in your essence. The sound was obscene. There was no denying how badly you needed him.
“Yessssss.” You arched back onto him.
“Ga head, take it. Take what you want.”
Your trembling hand reached down and grabbed his dick, slowly pushing it inside of you. Stack groaned, burying his face in your neck as he slowly moved his hips.
Moans escaped your open mouth as you felt the stretch from the pure girth he carried. “Oh my god.” You cried out as he bottomed out, his full length deep inside of you while you clawed at his arm and the sheets. “Fuck!”
“Mhmm, take it, take that shit baby.” He sped up his pace. Thrusting in and out of you while you cried out every time he kissed your cervix.
“S—so big, papa!” You whined, already feeling the way your stomach was tightening again.
“I know baby, I know. But you can take it right? Look how good you’re doing. Taking all this big dick.” He grabbed your face and turned it to his. Your lips met in a slow dance that contrasted with the way he was fucking you. You couldn’t stop moaning into his mouth, your face forming a small pout.
“Don’t look at me like that. You wanted this right? Take it. Just like that.” His voice was like silk against your ears. Your hand weakly grabbed onto his arm as you squirted with every thrust.
“Eliaaaassssss!”
“Mhmmm, give it to me. Give me all that shit. Nut all on your dick, baby.”
Your body shook and bent against him but he wouldn’t dare stop. You were nothing but gasps and whimpers, trying your best to come down from the intense high you just experienced.
Stack pressed your lips together again, tongue sneaking its way into your mouth. “Open.” He spit into your mouth the second you followed his order. Hips still digging into you.
He slowed down and shifted so that he’d be able to deepen his strokes. You sobbed into his neck, your French tips pressing crescent moons on his thigh. His other hand rubbed your small but plump belly. “Cum for me again. Do it. Let me see you break.”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your juices sprayed out of you, another orgasm ripping through your body without permission.
“Drown me just like that. Keep going, don’t fucking stop.” His lips were right by your ear, you heard every small groan, every breath and whisper that he tried to hide.
“Okaaayyyy.” You whined, feeling completely out of your own body.
You couldn’t stop squirting, all you could was sob and try your hardest to gain some type of control of the situation but your body was overstimulated and done for. Stack didn’t care though, he kept going. Dick sliding in and out of you with a wet splat each time he went all the way in.
“Good girl, mama. You gon let me ruin you like this, huh?” His strokes slowed down, you felt each inch of his thick cock trying to tear you apart.
“I— I can’t.” Your tears fell in waterfalls, short breaths turned into gasps as he continued to abuse your already swollen folds.
“Yes you can. Come on, give me one more. You can do that for me, right?”
“I caaaannnt. Elias, I can’t, fuck. I can’t.” Your toes curled and your body hadn’t stopped trembling since he started. You cried out over and over again as you reached a state of what felt like hysteria. He felt so good but you could barely breathe and were practically drooling. Your eyes kept rolling to the back of your head and your juices drenched the mattress beneath you.
Stack reached his hand down and pressed a two fingers to your clit. Your jaw dropped, hand reaching back to lightly slap his chest over and over again, as he rubbed your nub in circles. Screams echoed throughout the room as your body practically convulsed.
“There she go. That’s exactly where I want you. Just like that, baby. Stay just like that while I ruin you.” Your walls fluttered around his length, another orgasm threatening to destroy you. “Breathe. Let me hear you.”
You took a deep breath, eyes squeezing shut while you sobbed. “I love your dick, daddy. I love it so much!” You cried out loud.
“Yea? This why yo ass pregnant now. Nasty ass girl.”
“Keep fucking me, please! You feel so good inside my pussy. Don’t stop. Don’t stop!”
He moaned against your ear, hips stuttering from trying to hold himself back. “Look at you. Dumb off of dick. They don’t even know how you get. Tryna act all innocent for them people—If only they fucking knew.” He sped up, hand lifting your leg higher to reach parts of you, you didn’t even know could be touched. “You love me, hm? Tell me you love me. Tell me I’m the only nigga that could ruin you like this.”
“I love you! I love you! I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum, Elias. Oh my god!” The hand on your clit sped up to match his thrusts.
“Say it. Tell me this mine. Tell me I own you.” His strokes were brutal, all that was heard was the slapping of his skin against yours and the mess you were currently making. “This my pussy, my body, my nut. All of it. Mine. You hear me? I own you, baby. All of you.”
“Yes! It’s yours. All yours! Fuck!” Your body snapped, shaking profusely as your cum flowed out of you. Stack whimpered, his thighs trembling as he filled you with his seed.
“Oh fucckkkk” he moaned against your shoulder, pressing kisses to your damp skin, trying his best to calm down. He slowed his movements, letting the both of you ride out the orgasm.
You twitched against him, slumped over in a state of absolute bliss. Stack kissed you all over, hands rubbing your sides to calm you down.
Your eyes opened slowly, looking around as if you couldn’t believe that just happened. It felt like you had an out of body experience.
The vanity that sat right in front you, had your phone propped up and facing the both of you. Your eyes widen as you gasp.
Stack followed your eyesight, he chuckled slightly before getting up. Grabbing your phone, he pointed it right at your exhausted figure.
“Thought I’d keep this for memory as a reminder of what happens when you try to play with me.” You bit your lip, stomach turning in a way that it shouldn’t have been after all that. But the thought of having a video of the two of you having sex, saved into your phone where you could watch whenever, caused a fire to burn deep within you.
“Come on, baby. Show the camera the mess we made.” A smirk played on your lips as you turn over. Back arched and chest pressed onto the bed, you reach back and open your folds with two fingers. Stack groans, moving the camera closer to catch the way his nut slides out of you.
“Perfect.” He moaned before turning it off and lightly spanked your ass.
“Let’s get you cleaned up before you get me started again.” You giggle as he picks you up bridal style and heads to the bathroom.
Unfortunately, your time with Elias was cut short once you hear a commotion outside the room. What could it be? Well..You’re in for a rude awakening. Part. 1
wc: 6,578
warnings: Cunnilingus (again yes hes a munch), thigh riding/dry humping, dom!Elias (yesssss), squirting, Elias is a lil mean at first but he’s so in love :(, jealous!Elias, overstimulation (r!receiving), blood, triple k mention unfortunately, death/violence, guns/weapons, Mary is HIGHKEY a villain (sorry for the mary slander i fw her), previous: remmick x reader
an: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG GUYS!! I wrote it but then had to rewrite it kinda bc i messed the scene order up, it’s also not directly following the plot bc it works better this way, trust me. again i’m so so sorry for the wait! LONGEST FIC WOOHOO!!
feedback is always appreciated and welcomed! <3
Both you and Elias turn your heads towards the door, you feel yourself holding your breath in hopes of being able to hear the other side.
You can’t make out any words being said, but the sound of a scream is undeniable.
Elias and you quickly make yourselves presentable. You hold onto his clothed arm tightly as you both approach the door, but before you can open it, you hear countless rounds being shot continuously.
You yelp, and Elias pushes you behind him, your hold on his arm only gets stronger at the flurry of voices just a few feet away from you.
“‘Lias,” you whisper. He doesn’t look at you, instead reaching back, and squeezing your hip in response.
“Please…Be careful,” you’re nearly trembling behind him. Elias puts the arm that you’re holding on the doorknob, while the other wields his knife.
Elias then rips the door open, and the sight before you makes you feel sick.
A dead man, right in front of the door’s threshold, with blood pooling from his neck’s bitten arteries.
Then you see her—
Mary.
But now, she has crimson coating her lips down to the low collar of her dress. She has countless bullet holes in her body, yet she still stands as strong as a statue. Elijah stands a few feet in front of her alongside Sammie; the twin heaves and a mixture of frustration and anger is radiating from him.
Mary snaps her head in your direction and smirks as if nothing had even happened. You notice the glowing of her eyes, making you shrink even more behind Elias—if that’s even possible.
She does a double take between you and the Moore’s before speaking. “We gon’ kill every last one of ya,” she then sprints out of Club Juke faster than a jackrabbit.
The joint is empty, save for Annie, the Chows, Pearline, and Delta Slim, who run over to the scene.
“What the hell happened?” Annie exclaims. Sammie stutters out the events that occurred, but you find yourself tuning it out.
Mary had killed a man. But not with a weapon—no knife, no gun—but with her own teeth. That glow—that agility even after being shot up more than a hunted deer in the woods.
“We?”…She said "we?” Annie mutters. The thought makes you shiver.
More of those evil souls, with glowering gazes and monster-like movements.
How many were there? Were they just as strong as Mary? Stronger, even?
Your mind was going a mile a minute, as you pondered the endless possibilities of what these people things may have in store.
As if he could read your thoughts, Elias fully turns to you and grabs your upper arms. “Nobody gon hurt’chu, I’ll make sure o’ it,” he murmurs tenderly; he’s still firm and sure.
Elias has kept you towards the back of the joint, sitting pretty on the stage while everyone clambers about. You tried to explain to him that you weren’t some little girl who needed to be guarded, but Elias wasn’t hearing a word. His overprotectiveness both made your eyes roll and your heart flutter in your chest.
After sitting there long enough to make your butt hurt, you faintly hear a voice coming from outside the joint. You see Elias and Elijah share a look, before heading to the doors. Sammie almost immediately follows, holding onto Pearline’s hand; Slim, Grace, Bo and Annie reluctantly follow along.
The doors open and you hear Elijah talking to whoever resides on the other end of the threshold. You decide that sitting down isn’t in your best interest.
You’re getting up to stretch your legs—not because you can’t fight the urge to be nosy.
That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.
The closer you get to the door, the more you start to pick up on the voice of the unknown individual.
You can tell it’s a man by the riveting baritone waves of sound. For some reason, his voice resonates within you. The familiarity of his tone nestles deeply between your bones and echoes inside of your skull, all you can feel now is pure, and utter confusion.
After finally getting close enough to peer out the door through the small herd of bodies, your breath catches in your throat. Your heart begins to pound wildly, and you press a hand to your frame in hopes of taming it.
The way that his eyes dart to you makes you feel as if he had a sixth sense dedicated to you. You knew that face all too well.
You almost missed the way that the pupils of his bright blue eyes flickered from a radiant red, back to their normal black shade.
Keyword: almost.
What you didn’t miss, however, was how his shirt, suspenders, and his chain were all caked in blood.
Fuck—was he one of them?
Your thoughts are interrupted once he speaks, “Mo ghrá..” He murmurs. The group parts like the red sea, making it so that you could see him clearly. You’d be lying if you said that hearing his sweet, breathy tone didn’t make your knees weak.
“My love..”
“Remmick..” You murmur, your voice not louder than a whisper in the wind. Your gaze is set on the Irish man, and you miss the confused, yet almost pained look written on Elias’ face.
Remmick’s grin grows tenfold, “I-I knew we’d cross paths again, darlin’.” Your face feels as if it were on fire as everyone looks between both you and Remmick, as if the two of you had grown two heads.
“Chaill mé thú, mo chuisle,” he murmurs, yet it sounds so much louder amongst the silence.
“I missed you, my pulse,”
You shake your head frantically, “No—no, you—you were gone, Remmick.”
Remmick tilts his head at you slightly and furrows his brows, “An-and I missed ya every damn day, darlin’. Believe me when I say that.” He puts his hands out as if he were trying to calm a startled animal.
You lip quivers and your eyes start to burn, your vision grows blurry, but you quickly blink your tears away.
“You’re the one I came for,” he chuckles breathily. “Yeah—yeah, you, a-and...” Remmick pauses once Sammie steps beside you, “Sammie,” he drags out sinisterly, his eyes shining red yet again.
You can’t help but shift and bring yourself in front of Sammie, almost as a way to protect the younger boy.
“I sensed you—I sensed you both. I want to see my people again.” It’s like Remmick was boring into your soul as he spoke. “I’m trapped here…But your gifts can bring them to me.”
Your gaze shifts to Elias, who stands next to his brother as they both keep a hand on their respective weapons. Remmick claps his hands together, diverting your attention back to him.
He did it on purpose.
“Y’all give ‘em to me, now,” Remmick’s tone feigns innocence, “Just give me a lil’ Sammie, and my lass—we’ll let y’all live.” His pleading sounds more threatening if anything. Elias tightens his grip on his dagger and looks at you both wearily and fiercely. It’s sure as hell not because his life was just threatened, and Remmick seems to take note of this.
Remmick cocks a brow at Elias and smirks, “Oh…You ‘n her?” He trails off, pointing his finger between you and Elias. He averts his attention back to you and chortles, “You done replaced me, baby?”
You furrow your brows with a sudden wave of anger, “No–don’t give me that. You were gone for years! Y-you left me!” Your voice grows, your agitation wraps around your words and seeps into the night sky.
“Yet my undead heart still beats for you, and you only.” He speaks slowly and squints his eyes at you, almost in disbelief at your defiance. His smile quickly returns to his face, but instead of making you feel warm, and fuzzy as it once did, it makes you feel nervous, and even scared.
“Y’know what? That’s alright, darlin’. Yeah…I hope he been lovin’ you the way you needed,” he pauses and damn near giggles. “‘Cause ole’ Rem is back now, baby. ‘N once I getcha, I ain’t fixin’ to leave ya, ever again.”
“That’s enough,” Elijah grumbles, before stepping in front of you. Your chest feels tight, and you hide yourself within the back of the group as they all stand next to Elijah, before you eventually walk back to the end of the juke joint.
“They belong to us—they belong with us,” you hear Slim state firmly.
“‘N I ain’t gonna let that happen.” Elijah spit.
There’s a tremble in your step as you inch closer to the wooden platform. You can practically feel Elias’ anger radiating all the way from the barn’s opening to where you sat—a jittering mess.
Would Elias think of you differently now?
In all honesty, you know you did no wrong. I mean, did he expect you to only keep yourself company while he was off doing God knows what with dozens of women every day in Chicago for seven whole years?
It’s not like you shared a bed with Remmick; the thought had crossed your mind once or twice, but no matter what, your heart still belonged to Elias.
A part of you truly wishes that you could’ve pushed your feelings aside to allow Remmick to love you in ways nobody had. He was one of the kindest spirits you’ve ever encountered, and you had always fancied his promises of eternal love and life.
You couldn’t stray too far from Elias, despite how hard you tried, your soul wouldn’t allow it.
The commotion dies down, but the sound of heavy, quick footsteps does not—unfortunately for you. You don’t even know why you’re worried, but your heart’s restless beating doesn’t falter for a minute.
You look up at him and his face shows more than just mild irritation. You can’t tell if Elias is mad at you—for whatever reason—or at the fact that his first night back in the Delta was ruined…Maybe it’s both?
“Y’told me I was the only man you been with? What–so you was lyin’ t’me?” Elias wastes no time in interrogating you. You can see the group looking your way behind Elias, but once they meet your gaze, they disperse. Elias clears his throat once he notices your attention diverted.
You scoff, “No, ‘Lias! When I said I only been with you, I meant it!”
“So what was that? He over here callin’ you baby ‘n shit for no reason, then?” He throws his hands up in disbelief, letting them then slap the sides of his thigh.
“Okay–yes I dated him! But me ‘n him didn’t do nun, believe me when I tell ya, Elias.” You say with a sigh of irritation.
Elias’ face darkens, you can both see and sense the new-found tension pulsing. “So..He ain’t ever touch this body of yours? That’s whatcha sayin?” He inches closer to you, making you stand up on the stage to somewhat match his height.
You look down at him slightly as your faces remain close together, “I ain’t a liar,” you whisper.
And with that, Elias grabs you by your waist, hoisting you off of the stage and over his shoulder. You paw at his back as you let out a squeal, which sounds more like a screech.
Nobody seems to acknowledge the pair of you heading back to the very same room you were in earlier in the night, or at least they choose not to speak on it.
Nobody but Elijah.
He saw the grip that Elias had on you as he walked, his stride oozing both confidence and exasperation.
‘One track mind, that boy’, he thinks to himself.
As much as Elijah wanted to scold his brother for fooling around at a time like this, he thinks that maybe it’d be best if Elias got some weight lifted off of his shoulders. Maybe then he’d be more willing to come up with a plan with the group rather than going outside and trying to fight some haint and his army.
So, Elijah glares at his twin brother’s back before shifting his focus onto his gun in need of loading.
You watch as Elias kicks the door shut, before suddenly, you’re laying on your back once again. You gasp at his abruptness, but Elias doesn’t utter a word.
“Elias,” you sound as if you’re begging, but you don’t exactly know what it is that you’re begging for.
He lowers himself down, resting on one knee as he pushes your dress up, similarly to how he did a few hours prior.
“Baby,” you whisper, trying to push his head away from in-between your legs.
“This ain’t f’you, it’s f’me,” Elias finally utters. “I wanna taste what he couldn’t have.”
And with that, Elias plunges his warm, hot tongue inside of you; he doesn’t tease, which is unlike how he behaved with you earlier.
Elias’ filthy actions are unabated, and your efforts in pushing him away by his shoulders never cease.
‘This ain’t f’you, it’s f’me’
Elias’ words echo throughout your damn-near empty mind.
And he wasn’t lying, because no matter how much you cry out to him for mercy and even forgiveness, he doesn’t let up.
You’re breathless as he continues to fuck your cunt with his tongue. You beg him for a second to regain your bearings, but you know that even if he’d attempt to stop, you wouldn’t let him.
“Mmf—‘Lias, please!” You mewl. “Please—please, please! Have m-mercy!”
The way his finger swirls around your sensitive bud sends your body into what feels like shock. You don’t even notice you’re crying until you feel the hot tears trail down your puffy cheeks.
You sniffle and babble weakly, and Elias chuckles. His rhythm feels ingrained into your brain; the way his tongue flutters in and out quickly as his finger pad rolls even quicker.
The heat between your legs is ever-growing, as well as the pulsing ache that ripples throughout your core. Your back muscles arch instinctively off of the table; you think your bellybutton might just touch one of the twinkling stars in the dark night sky.
It doesn’t take long for you to start reaching your climax, you couldn’t even hold it if you tried due to Elias’ earlier endeavors.
“‘Lias please—I can’t! I—” You hiccup through your sobs, “I can’t take no more!”
You squeeze your eyes shut so tight you start to see colors circulating through the darkness. You sniffle and cry feebly as you lie helplessly on the table.
“That right?” Elias questions you, and it’s the first words that he’s spoken to you in minutes.
You nod your head up and down vigorously as you continue to cry, and then
Elias stops.
You let out a broken gasp once the warmness of Elias’ face is replaced with an icy chill that you didn’t even think you’d feel in Mississippi.
“No! Nonono—‘Lias please, m’beggin’ ya!” Another sob rips violently through your chest, which feels like it’s been caved in.
Elias peers at you, his expression unreadable, “Thought’cha couldn’t take it?” You try to speak but all Elias can make out are jumbled words and sharp inhales. Elias sits you up, and for a second, you think he’s going to walk out.
But then he sits on the edge of the table and slides you onto his lap.
More specifically: one of his thighs.
You look at him teary-eyed as another droplet trickled down your face. He notices this, and slightly sticks his glistening tongue out, licking the teardrop clean from your face. He does it with little force—such little bite compared to how he obnoxiously slurped against you minutes before. You barely felt his tongue, but his breath fanning over the side of your face made you heat right up.
Elias kisses your neck, lightly, but still present. “I ain’t givin’ you nun else,” he murmurs as he trails up to your chin.
“Why?” You whisper meekly. “What’d I do, ‘Lias? Talk t’me.” Despite your given situation, you still spoke to him with such tenderness.
If he wasn’t trying to prove a point, Elias maybe would’ve even swooned, which is so unlike him.
You make him feel like a different man entirely. You don’t throw yourself at him like the other women he’s encountered—the ones that give themself away for cheap. Despite how shy you were around him, you still held yourself with so much confidence, never arrogance.
It made Elias want to chase you.
He would’ve if he hadn’t been away.
He would’ve if there wasn’t underlying fear in his heart. Fear that you moved on with someone else, someone different than him.
Or maybe you wouldn’t even want him.
God, that’s why he can’t even begin to describe the pure rage that surged through his heart once Remmick started speaking to you.
Such familiarity in his tone and even his eyes, he spoke about you like you were his.
Elias missed so much—missed so many birthdays and life-changing moments.
But that man—Remmick, he experienced who knows how many.
Elias Moore isn’t scared of much, but he’s scared of losing you. And that’s enough to kill him.
“If y’want it, take it.” Elias ordered.
You stare at him for a beat, beady eyes flickering left and right, mouth agape, and hands finding their place on Elias’ shoulders.
You roll your hips on his thigh, and he tightens the hold he has around your back. Your head feels so fuzzy, like it was filled to the brim with the purest pearly feathers. But Elias’ very presence kept you grounded in ways you didn’t know he could.
You roll yourself against his thigh again, finding your own rhythm. Elias didn’t press; didn’t make you go faster, didn’t force you to release.
He wanted you to take what you wanted from him.
Because he’d give you everything you’d ever want and more.
He knows this, and you’re starting to learn it.
You heave through your nose as you ride him, your hands wrap around his neck, if they’re clammy, he doesn’t mention it.
With a surge of confidence flowing through your veins, you clamber into Elias’ lap, grinding down on his growing erection.
“Mmn—hah, you feel so good, ‘Lias,” you whimper, your voice picking up in pitch.
You swear you hear something from outside, but you can’t find a reason as to why you should worry about that when you’re on top of the man you love—grinding on him so filthily.
Elias groans softly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to see the effect that you have on him. “Fuck baby..Yeah that’s it.”
Your clit bumps against Elias’ zipper, and you let out a throaty moan. His hands come down to slap your ass as you continue to press down on him. You feel his toned muscles underneath his shirt as your hands glide up and down his torso.
Elias’ belt buckle feels cold against your lower stomach; it’s such a stark difference from the warm pressure that resonates within you.
Your legs are sore and twitchy and your hip muscles start to tighten, you whimper at the slowed pace you have to push through.
“I gotcha, don’t you worry,” Elias pants, before quickly rocking you back and forth on his slacks. His tip prods at your inner thigh, you notice that he’s leaked through his pants. Neither of you seem to care.
His grip on you tightens, as he starts to bounce you onto his clothed cock, then rolling your hips into a circle.
“‘M so close—please don’t stop,” you rasp as a new wave of tears streams down your cheeks.
“I know—I know, honey, let go f’me.”
Your plans to stifle your moans are out of the window now as your bottom half starts to tingle in ways you’ve never felt before.
“W-wait! ‘Lias! I-I gotta pee!” you gasp in horror. “M’sorry! ‘M’so sorry!”
Elias’ eyes light up, and he bites his bottom lip as he bucks his hips up into you. “C’mon, sugar. ‘S’all right, gimme whatcha never gave him.” He smiles at you genuinely. Only Elias could grin at you so sweetly while thrusting through your’s and his clothing.
You pat at his chest desperately, “No! ‘Lias please! Y’aint listenin’!” You weep.
“Nah—‘M listenin’ baby, ‘n it sounds like this pussy’s ready to cum.”
Your jaw drops as you slam yourself against Elias’ cock, riding your high as your voice gives out. Your ears ring, and you can barely even hear your own cries.
“F—uck!” The yell rips from your throat.
Elias just watches you in awe, no doubt cumming in his pants at the sight of you.
His lap is soaked and his laughter makes you pinch your eyes open. Speaking of: your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you look at the mess you’ve made.
“Oh God—‘Lias ‘m sorry. I tried to hold it, I swear!” You frown at him, but Elias is beaming, his rosy cheeks are nearly touching his bottom lashes.
“Wh-what? Why’re ya smilin’? Elias I just-“
“Y’just squirted on me, sugar,” Elias marvels.
You pause, cocking your head to the side and furrowing your brows, like you’re trying to decipher his words.
“I-I ain’t ever done that before…Is it good?” You ask softly.
“Best thing I’ve ever seen in m’life,” Elias says through cheerful laughter.
You readjust your dress and roll your foot in your heels, making sure they’re snug. Just in case you need to run from something
“What’d we miss?” Elias boasts, receiving a sharp glare from Annie.
“Well, if you two weren’t foolin’ ‘round, you’d already know that we’re up against vampires.” Annie scolds the both of you; you can see Elias’ poorly-hidden smirk in the corner of your eye, making you bite down a grin. It quickly leaves your face once you notice Bo’s absence.
“They gotta be killed one by one.”
Delta Slim pipes up, “‘N how the hell we do that?”
“Sunlight—a wooden stake to the heart.”
“Why tonight?” Elijah asks angrily.
Sammie takes a step forward, “‘Cause of me.” You frown at him, but before you’re able to speak, he continues. “My daddy told me—he said the devil was comin’ on account of my music.”
“Now, Sammie, that is not true—“ you say with conviction.
“I had a gal once—vampire. She was light skinneded, too.” Slim smiles as you look at the twins in confusion. “Gal bit me everywhere but my neck,” he chuckles.
Then, his smile fades and is replaced with something far more serious. “Sammie…You don’t worry about a thing, hear?”
Sammie’s posture shows his guilt and his fear taking a hold of him. Slim holds his gaze as he speaks, “Devil done came for me plenty of times. If he come knockin’ tonight…He gonna have to go through his old friend Delta Slim ‘fore he get to you. That go for everybody in here—you too.” He says as he turns to you. You smile sweetly at him despite the shake in your knees.
Unfortunately, it’s not from your intimacy with Elias.
Everyone looks at one another, solidifying Slim’s words of protection.
You keep your place next to Elias as everyone disperses. “‘Lias..” You whisper. He turns to you as you speak. “W-what if they get me—what if he gets me? I-I don’t wanna turn—“ Your voice rises as panic takes over your features.
His warm hand goes up to cup your face, stretching from your ear to the side of your neck. “Lemme tell y’sum, sugar,” he murmurs. “Nobody is takin’ ya away from me. Not him, not anybody—ever. Understand?”
You inhale deeply as you nod your head up and down timidly. His thumb presses to the side of your eye, wiping the tear that you didn’t even know had fallen.
Looking into his eyes feels as if you’re in a trance, and you think back to the electrifying moment you had when you were dancing on stage for him.
A scream rips through the building and interrupts your thoughts. “Sammie! Smoke! Stack!” The voice—who you figure out is Pearline—yells.
Everyone gathers to where Pearline stands, and there lies a man pooled in his own blood.
“Well, this had to have been Mary, right?” Grace asks apprehensively.
“Nah. She ran straight out. You saw them.” Sammie says breathlessly.
“Well who bit him then?” You and Grace ask simultaneously.
Elias turns to his brother, “We gotta get him out before he wakes up.”
The twins quickly drag the man to the door, heaving him through the dirt and gravel. You peer out from inside the joint with Sammie, almost as if you both were on look-out.
“C’mon.” Elijah beckons Elias as he starts to head inside, but he stays still.
Elias holds his hand out, motioning for Elijah to stop. “You don’t hear that?” You can’t see his front, but you know for certain that he’s scrunching his face up. You look at Sammie as you both listen to the sounds intertwined with the wind.
That’s when you hear it
Hear him.
“Leave where I was born,” you faintly hear Remmick singing.
“They playin’ music,” Sammie mutters.
“I cut a stout blackthorn.” Thunder rumbles and shines in the sky as he sings.
It leaves a bad feeling in your chest.
For to banish
Ghosts and goblins
You see a circle being formed, full of those vampires, but Remmick’s eyes are clearest as he stands in the middle of the forming ring.
A brand-new pair of brogues
To rattle over the bogs
His song seeps deep within your bones—words flowing through your rib-cage.
And frighten all the dogs
“Hey—hey.” Elijah taps Elias on his chest as he alerts him with a lowered tone. “Let’s get back inside.”
On the rocky road
To Dublin
‘C’mon.” Elijah ushers his brother inside.
One, two, three, four, five
Sammie side-steps Elijah as you reach out for Elias.
And with that: the door is slammed shut, the man is left outside, and Remmick begins to plague your mind.
Everyone looks around at one another without speaking.
“We all gonna eat this clove of garlic,” Annie says with persistence.
“No can do,” Elias shakes his head as he speaks.
“‘N why the hell not?” Annie nearly snarls at the brown-eyed man and his careless attitude.
Elias smirks, “Y’see now..Garlic don’t mix well w’pussy, aint that right Smo—“
You smack his chest with force, “Elias Samuel Moore!” You exclaim. Slim chokes out a laugh, and Grace turns her head, no doubt hiding a smile.
Annie sighs frustratedly, and Elijah doesn’t speak a word. His eyes just flicker between the group; you think he’s in his soldier-mode.
“..I don’t much like the taste of it,” Pearline peeps, glancing around wearily.
Annie snaps her head in Pearline’s direction, “Ain’t nobody saying y’all gotta like it.” She scoffs as she chews on the garlic clove, handing the jar over to Elijah. “We just gotta figure out if any of us left is one of them.”
Elijah passes the jar to Grace, who quickly grabs the garlic. “You ain’t get nun of the pickled ones?” She quirks a brow, voice somewhat muffled from the mouthful of garlic. Elias snorts beside you, and you nudge his arm in return.
Grace carefully hands the half-filled jar to you. You stick your thumb and index finger into the jar, plucking a clove out and handing the rest to Elias.
You grimace at the taste that floods your mouth, and now you do wish that Annie got the pickled ones. You turn your head to Elias, who almost looks apprehensive about eating one, but as soon as he meets your eyes, he flicks it into his mouth.
You blink at him before sticking your tongue out, showing him that you’re finished. It takes him a second to do the same; handing the jar to Pearline while still facing you.
“This is ridiculous,” Pearline blurts with annoyance. And without missing a beat, Elijah pulls his gun out and aims it directly at the girl’s head. You gasp, and Elias holds your arm, keeping you from doing anything you’ll regret. “Pearline.” You plead.
“Smoke—put the gun down,” Sammie nearly squeaks.
“Shut up.” Elias demands without even looking at his cousin. “Eat, or I’ll shoot.”
“Put the gun down Smoke, she ain’t no damn vampire,” Sammie contends.
“How the hell you know that?” Elijah deadpans.
“Just eat the damn garlic girl,” Grace warned.
You know Elias isn’t going to try and stop his brother, after all, Elijah’s just trying to protect his family in the best way he knows how. You admire it, but it also scares you knowing he’s damn-near just as reckless as Elias.
Elijah turns the safety off on his gun with a click, making Sammie panic, and everyone else observes in disbelief. Sammie butts in again, and his interruption unfortunately gets him hit in the nose with the butt of Elijah’s gun. He holds his nose in pain, and you cast a sympathetic glance in his direction, though he isn’t able to see it.
Elijah looks at Sammie for the first time, “Tryin’ to keep ya alive boy, you ain’t t’question me.” His southern drawl makes it all the more menacing as Sammie groans beside him.
You wait with baited breath, hoping that Pearline will just listen and pick from the jar in Elias’ hand.
“You a evil man,” She shakes her head and huffs. Pearline grabs the glass and pulls a piece out, almost sizing up Elijah. “No wonder the devil come f’us.” She chews reluctantly before giving the garlic to Slim.
He eats the clove and a tense wave of silence washes over the room. Suddenly, Slim covers his mouth and backs up coughing. Elijah points the gun in Slim’s direction as Annie inches behind him, and you’re no different with Elias as you grip Grace’s wrist.
“Slim—what’s goin’ on man,” Elijah says with simple directness.
Slim’s throat rumbles as he starts to thrash around, groaning and mumbling unintelligiblely.
“What’s goin’ on, Slim?” Elijah asks again, his voice raising into a yell as he now wields a thick wooden dagger. Slim pounds on his chest wildly and you continue to cower alongside Grace.
Slim’s head is down as he puts his arms out in a pleading manner, “I drank too much,” he grumbles. “That goddamn beer from Chicago—my nerves all fucked up, Smoke,” Slim rasps, gesturing to his face.
“Oh—fuck,” you sigh with relief, letting go of Grace; she still has concern written all over her face.
Everyone calms their racing hearts once Slim straightens up. “I’m fine,” he reassures. “See?” He holds his arms out almost triumphantly.
“You sure that was blood?” Annie asks Elijah, and you look at him, waiting for some sort of answer as to what Annie’s implying.
The group watches Elijah go over to the near-forgotten puddle of blood and gather it on his fingertips. He sniffs it, and you can’t help but recoil—and Elias can’t help but snicker it seems. Everyone waits for Elijah to speak, but he doesn’t. No surprise there, though But he does grab a seemingly empty beer bottle from under a table.
You hear the door rattle, and you quickly turn your body towards the noise. Elias walks in front of you just as quickly.
There’s banging on the door as someone shouts, “Hey—hey, Smoke, let me in, man.” Elijah looks up from his crouched position. “Smoke? Stack? Let me in!”
His muffled voice grows more desperate, as well as his knocking. “Smoke, I swear I paid my tab, man.” He pants. “That’s what this about?”
The knocking grows more frantic by the second, and you’re almost worried that the door’s hinges may falter.
“Stack! Hey, Stack! Whatever y’all need, man!” The man pleads. “Smoke! Some weird shit goin’ on our here, Smoke!” He begs helplessly.
The twins share a quick glance before inching towards the door. “Smoke, let me in! Smoke, let me in!” He hollers as he bangs on the door ferociously.
Elijah rips the door open, gun in hand, with Elias standing beside him with his dagger. Soon as the door opens though, the man is tackled to the ground.
He was tackled by Cornbread.
“What the—oh shit,” Smoke exclaims from his spot in the doorway as he now aims at the rustling heap on the ground.
“Get off me!” The man screams as Cornbread rips the skin from the side of his face clean off.
“Close the door, c’mon!” Annie yells over the loud squelching noise. But before everyone can clamber behind the door, Grace rushes to the frame.
“Wait!” She pants. “Bo.”
That’s when you see none other than Bo Chow, strolling up to the joint as if a man wasn’t being murdered a few feet away from him.
“Hey, baby,” he greets Grace, not even sparing a glance to anyone else. “Come on outside, I got the car started. Let’s go—c’mon.” He nods his head towards the parked car.
You place your hand on Grace’s upper arm as she examines Cornbread on top of the flailing man, your touch serving as an anchor for her.
“What is it, Grace?” Bo tilts his head at her, gathering her attention once more.
Her voice breaks as she speaks, “He’s killin’ him.” And that’s when Bo finally acknowledges the horrific scene in front of him.
“Oh, ya talkin’ ‘bout that?” He’s almost smirking at her. “Don’t worry ‘bout Cornbread—he’s just a lil hungry, ‘s all. Let’s go.” Cornbread growls before standing up.
Grace gasps as Bo presses her, “C’mon!” Cornbread snarls next to him. “C’mon ‘n go! I got the car all warmed up.” He grins and puts his hands on his hips before sighing once he notices Grace’s hesitation.
“Don’t do it, Grace,” you whisper to her, hoping to refrain her from going with him.
Bo strolls up to the door, “Or…” He puts his hand on the other side of the frame. “You let me back in there, and I’ll come in—we can grab our things..” He pauses.
You then notice his irises changing to a sinister silver color.
It wasn’t human.
“Don’t listen to him,” both you and Annie say firmly.
“Grace, we’re gonna find a way out of this, I promise.” Elijah declares, not lowering his gun from Bo’s chest for even a second.
“It’ll be okay,” Elias reassures her.
“I am your way out.” You flinch once you hear Remmick’s voice.
He walks up next to Bo as Elijah tightens the grip he has on his gun. “This world already left you for dead. Won’t let ya build. Won’t let ya fellowship.” He gestures with his hands.
“We will do just that,” he softens his voice—like he’s bargaining. “Together. Forever.” He tilts his head, feigning innocence.
Bo speaks up, “It’s better this way, baby. So why don’t ya go ahead—invite us in.” His smile is long-gone.
Remmick steps forward, “Y’should listen to ‘em, Grace. Or listen t’me. ‘Cause I know everything he knows now. And I want ya to let us in there.” His eyes shine red yet again, and a shiver crawls up your spine like a spider’s legs.
“Or we gon’ go to the grocery store—we gon’ pay little Lisa a visit.”
Grace yells as both you and Annie hold her back; she sobs as everyone holds her frantically. “Don’t you fucking dare!”
“Oh, yeah, Grace. I know everything now.” He smirks at her, beginning to speak Taishanese.
You have no idea what he’s saying, but you know for certain it’s nothing good with the way Grace crumbles in your arms and Remmick’s voice is now sweetly saccharine.
Then, you hear footsteps coming from the right, and you see Mary’s heels before you see her.
“You ain’t safe here. No matter how many guns, or how much money…They gon’ take it from ya when they want.” Remmick’s teeth are on display as he speaks.
“Ya built sum here tonight ‘n it was beautiful. But it was built…On a lie.” This catches both Elijah and Elias’ attention.
“Hogwood, well he’s the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan. That’s his motherfuckin’ nephew.” He points to a man who has his arms around a woman, both covered in dried up blood. Speaking of blood: you feel yours run cold once you hear Remmick’s declaration.
You should’ve known it was too good to be true. Of course the twins were well known in the Delta, but being able to get a place like this so soon? You’re not surprised it came with a price.
If only Elias had told you sooner.
“‘N they was always gon’ kill you. I just happened to show up at the right place at the right time.”
Mary comes up from behind Remmick, standing next to him and gazing at Elias. “He’s tellin’ the truth, Stack. I can see his memories.”
Elias’ shoulders tense up as soon as she speaks to him, and you’re no different.
“Stack, that ain’t Mary.” Slim says wearily.
“This wasn’t no juke joint,” Mary smiles cockily, “No club. This here’s a…Slaughterhouse.”
“It’s a goddamn killin’ floor.” The white man from before says.
The woman in his arm finally speaks, “But what Uncle Hogwood don’t know is we’re gonna start ourselves a new clan—based on love.” She laughs, putting her hands in the air.
“Now that we got numbers, we’ll probably go over to that bigot ‘n rectify him, too.” Remmick sighs blissfully.
“Why can’t y’all just leave,” Annie begs.
“‘Cause we’re not leavin’ without y’all. We’re family—even you, sugar.” Mary chirps, turning her head towards you. Elias’ jaw tightens. “I know it sound crazy, but after we kill y’all..We gon’ have heaven right here on Earth.” The gaggle of vampires behind her let out hums of agreement.
The man that Cornbread killed groans from his position on the ground. Remmick chuckles and waves to him.
Mary steps forward, her sights set on Elias. “Hey—hey, look at me,” she smiles.
“The Mary I know ain’t fellowshipping with no goddamn devil,” you squint at her; as much as you didn’t like Mary, you weren’t dumb.
“Fuck you, it is me!” Mary barks. “‘N I’m talkin’ to Stack right now, sugar…So I’mma kindly ask you to shut the fuck up.”
As soon as the words leave her stained lips, you reach for the dagger in the holster under your dress.
“No—no.” Elias grabs you, tucking you into his chest and holding your arms close to you.
“We was never gonna be free. We been runnin’ around everywhere, lookin’ for freedom. You know damn well you was never gonna find it.” Mary chides.
“Until this—this is the way. Together. Forever.” Mary leers at Elias. “I ain’t doin’ this without ya. There is no me without ya.”
You freeze, hearing Mary’s declaration of love for Elias. She spoke to him like you weren’t even there.
And what makes matters worse?
Elias’ response determines everyone’s fate.
If he goes, there’s a chance they may leave you all alone, and you know for a fact: Elias is the type to sacrifice himself for his family.
That alone terrifies you.
Elijah and Annie close the door, you turn around in hopes of consoling Elias, but before you can get a word out, he brings you into his arms.
“Nobody’s takin’ ya away f’me, ‘n nobody’s takin’ me from ya.”
Summary- The position the Moore twins fuck you in and their aftercare.
wc- total 1.207k
A/n: I don't know—I'm on my period! Give me grace.
CW- Each will have individual warnings but uhhh, fucking and straight pure no holding back freak nasty smut. (yeah that works)
Smoke
CW-519 words, Cowgirl, P in V, ear candy/praising(don't ask me to stop), ass slapping, and grabbing, usage of daddy(just the name y'all!!).
His cowgirl, he loved it. To see you bouncing and babbling on his dick. You straddled him, feet pressed flat against the mattress, toes scrunched up as you rolled your hips struggling to keep going. Arousal painted the man as he stared up at you grinning from the sight.
“Nuh uh suga’ keep goin’ don’ give out on me nah.” His hands bruised your hips as he cooed then drove his hips forward and deeper inside your gaping pussy.
The overhead fan couldn't even cool you down; the heat ran through your sweaty body, heart pacing so quickly it felt like it was trying to leap from your chest, and your hands held on to his forearms for dear life as you let out choked cries.
“Naaa-daddy! t-ouhhggh-too m-much!” You slowed your pace trying to catch your breath and in return, his hand struck your ass.
“Nah, ya been doin’ so good f’ me, keep it up, baby.” He slammed up in your aching hole, one hand holding the plush of your ass and the other wiping the tears off your cheeks.
“Look at you pretty girl, so good. Ain't ya good girl f’ me?”
“Uh huh!” You babbled, bobbing your head. Your hot walls curled around every inch of him, his cock throbbing as you glided over every sensitive vein of his length.
“Fuuuck, jus’ like tha’ pretty girl.” He rasped, his breath ragged.
Once you tried to fall forward you gained another strike to your ass.
“Stay up, lemme see ya.”
“B-ohhhhh-but-ughhhh.” You whined.
“No buts, stay ya pretty ass right where I have ya.”
You whimpered as you obeyed and caught your previous pace. Your pubic hair dragged against each other, your clit twitched, and your walls massaged all of him.
Your hands fell to either side of his chest, you leaned forward back arched in, and looked back at your fluids seeping from your sopping hole. With each roll of your hips, he dragged over your G-spot, and his tip flirted with your cervix.
“Ooohh fuuck, d-daddy!” You jerked, your orgasm hitting you hard, throat tight making your cries come out cracked, and your slick walls clutching him then releasing repetitively.
Your juices pooled on and under him, your hips spasmed while your body gave out and collapsed on him, your head over his shoulder.
It got quiet, his hand rubbing over your ass, your pants in his ear, and his in yours, your whole body trembled from the activity. His beard rubbed against your cheek, and his lips brushed your lobule.
“Alrigh’ can't leave ya a mess, huh suga’?” He purred while lifting from the bed.
“Hm?” You murmured.
“Bouta get in the bath, get ya cleaned up.”
“Nuh uh.” You shook your head, your legs squeezed tight around his hips to stay secure in his arms.
“Ain't no ‘nuh uh’, it wasn't a choice. I ain't leaving you a mess.” He replied sternly, You rolled your eyes, of course not in his sight, that would get you fucked senseless all over.
Plus, he was just caring in his own special way.
Stack
CW- 688 words Backshots(💨), impact play(just slapping), heavy degradation(you is smart, you is kind, you is important), filling that pus up/creampie, unprotected sex(what did I tell y'all bout this, no babies in my house), he's rough and mean as hell(chill at the end though), mirror sex.
He was trying to ruin you, correction he was ruining you. Each thrash was merciless, like he was determined to make sure you couldn’t move after. Your heavy breast knocked against your chin with every roll of his hip. The humid room was filled with the sounds of his pelvis slamming against your fluffy ass and the fat of your thighs slapping against each other.
“S-stack, f-fuuuck-ugghhgh!” You shrieked, your manicured nails digging at the sheets.
On all fours, a full-body mirror in front of the bed, the headboard slamming hard against the wall, the material of the bed squeaking in protest, he railed into you relentlessly destroying your insides.
It was mean and brutal, each thrust had the intention of engulfing every bit of you. Sweat trailed down your back and forehead, you felt like you had a fever, and your conflicted emotions didn't help, pleasure rode through you like a breeze, the pain however made your limbs shake and tears melted down your face.
“Nasty little bitch! Stupid for my dick like a whore.” He grunted, sending a hard strike to the back of your fat thigh.
You mewled, your head dropping between your arms, each ram making you squeal and squirm. You couldn't count how many times his cockhead met your cervix you just knew it was too many.
“Look at you, stupid little bitch for me. My slut, say it, say your Elias's slut.”
“I-ahhh-fuc-ughhh!” You could only whine, your chest rose and fell rapidly. That man had you gasping for air as he hammered into you with that stupidly attractive smirk on his face.
“Say it.” He rasped and sent another slap to your thigh.
He pressed his hand down on your lower back making a nasty arch in your back, with your ass rose, it slammed against his abdomen. The veins of his cock throbbing from the feelings of your gummy walls embracing all his inches, his cockhead twitched as he could feel his orgasm building.
“I-I’m Elias's slut,” You choked out, “good, that's righ’.” He cooed mockingly and pulled back till just his tip was being clutched by your sappy pussy then rammed back into you like a bull.
“Fuuuuck!!” Your head shot up, your toes curled so far back they dug into your foot, and you pulsated around his shaft. Before you could even begin to process anything, your cream covered him and the blankets beneath you.
A white ring was left around the man’s cock, you gave out, no longer able to take anymore but he wasn't finished. Tears raced down your cheeks and your thighs shook frantically while you softly gasped but he kept going, slamming your bodies together, keeping those walls right around him no matter how much you wanted to loosen, he drove himself in so deep it felt like he was past your cervix.
“P-please s’muuuch, s-slower- t-t’much.” You squirmed and begged him to be gentle.
“Nah you can take it. You're gonna take all this like the greedy bitch you are.” He groaned and kept his brutal pace that sent his balls slapping against you.
You whimpered and moaned, clawing at the sheets, til you felt his cock pulse and he bottomed out inside of you. The relief that you felt when he did was unmatched. Finally, you collapsed into the puddle of your juice beneath you, catching all the breath he knocked out of you.
You heard him rustling behind you and then watched him walk out of the room in only his boxers. You couldn't even bring yourself to ask what he was doing so you just awaited his return.
Your eyes were slowly shutting when you heard things getting tossed on the bed, chips, a bag of mini cookies, and a Powerade.
“Whatcha tryna watch? I'm thinkin’ transformers.” He dropped back down on the bed after finally turning on the fan. You squinted your eyes at him, was he serious?
Yep, dead serious. He browsed through options and you just shook your head and turned toward the TV.
It was an interesting form of aftercare, at least he was feeding you.
A/n: No comment. (this was straight horny bullshit.)
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.
⋆.ೃ࿔ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐍 ᝰ After the horrific night at Club Juke where Stack was turned, you’ve never been the same. You tried praying, drinking, even fucking somebody else, but nothing could stop your body from yearning for Elias. After being gone for years, he’s finally returned to you, part vampire, part demon, but all of him is starving for the taste of your sweetness on his tongue.
𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮… Elias ‘Stack’ Moore
𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻… Explicit! Mature Audiences Only!; All Genres [smut, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort], porn w/ plot, Southern Gothic, hybrid!Stack [half-vampire & half-incubus] fem!reader, envisioned as black!reader while writing, half-canon & half non-canon, established relationship [not specified], Reunited love, oral [fem!receiving], fingering, p in v, soft sex, brief angry sex, monster fucking, Belly bulge, variations of cowgirl position [the crab and squatting cowgirl], marking/claiming, blood drinking, drooling/spit kink, mention of killing, implied manipulation tactics, implied breeding kink, dirty talk, use of derogatory language [n-word usage from Stack]. 1930’s time period. southern/country dialect used. southern/country accent implied.
𝑫𝑼𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵… 12.3k words
𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑹… This fic turned out wayyy longer than expected but I’m glad it’s finally done!! This is one of the most outside the box fics I’ve written so it was really fun writing about the different elements in this plot. As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope all my Stack girlies enjoy!!
You’ve tried everything to stop missing him. Tried praying, tried drinking corn liquor until you could barely remember his name, you even tried laying under another man, thinking it could help you move on but Stack is still buzzing around in your mind.
Even now, even with all the time that has passed, you still wake up saying his name like a scripture engraved in your brain. Like the word itself is stitched permanently into your lungs.
It’s been years since that night at Club Juke. The air still smells like pickled garlic and blood every time you think about that night. You remember the way Stack stumbled from the shadows, eyes wide, chest heaving, with a chuck of his neck missing and blood seeping from his skin. You remember the scream, his scream, cut short when Remmick sank his teeth in like a snake coiled around his prey.
You even remember him at the juke joint door not even an hour later, his eyes a completely different color but still warm, his voice still his even with that glooming darkness clinging to him.
Remmick was at his side like a chain around his neck, but Stack speaking to you like he could be your salvation, trying to convince you to join him in this new world and leave this cruel one behind.
“We can be together… forever.”
“I ain’t doin’ this shit without you.”
“There is no me without you.”
When those words left his lips, you almost leaped across the threshold and allowed him to bite you and suck your soul until it was hollow, filling you with only him and his vampire blood. But, before you could Smoke and Annie held you back, pulling you inside while Sammie slammed the door in his face and locking it shut.
After that day you cried for hours. Screamed till your throat was raw and your voice was gone. Some nights, when the moon is full and your bed is too cold, you wish you’d broken free from their hold. That you’d clawed through them and leapt into Stack’s arms, allowing him pull you down into the night where the living couldn’t go.
But on other nights, when you were thinking clearly, you thank the Lord for what they did. You thank them for keeping your warm blood running through your veins, for keeping your soul as your own. Everyday it’s a mental war, a fight between your wants and your needs.
After a few months, when you were ready to talk about things, Annie told you about the hive mind among vampires, the way all of them stay connected, like roots under dirt. Their mind and thoughts shared between the group. Annie told you that Stack was likely lost to it now, that once Remmick gets in your head, you don’t even belong to yourself anymore.
In the beginning, when the wounds were still fresh, you wanted to believe that Stack was fighting it, that he would come back to you, but he never did. You kept hoping you would see him standing on your porch like a lost puppy, that you would hear his voice within the walls of your home, or hear his shoes stepping on your porch, but you never did.
When months turned into years you stopped watching the window, stopped getting your hopes up, and finally faced the reality that Stack wasn’t coming back, that he’s gone forever. In your mind Stack was no longer himself, just a shell of his appearance with Remmick’s voice inside, a soldier in the army of darkness.
You aren't mad at him for leaving you, you know it isn't his fault, you just want him to come back to you.
Even though you tried to move on, your mind and body betray you. You aren’t filled with grief anymore, your filled with need. Yearning for a man that can’t return to you. Some nights you wake up soaked with slick between your thighs, heart beating like you’ve been touched by Stack’s calloused hands. Your legs clenched tight, nipples sore from your own restless hands trying to replace the ache in your core.
And to make things worse, you can hear him in your head: low, smooth, and fiery. “Lemme taste you, baby.” His voice would echo around your mind, making you moist, making it felt like he was actually whispering the words into your ear while hovering over your frame, placing soft kisses against your neck.
You miss him so much it feels like you’re being haunted by his ghost. Only it isn’t a ghost, at least it doesn’t feel like one. Because ghosts don’t make your skin prickle like this. Don’t make the air grow thick and sweet like molasses every time you close your eyes. Ghosts don’t whisper in your ear at night with heat behind every syllable, and they don’t leave bruises on your soul.
You don’t tell anyone, feeling like they wouldn’t understand or make you feel crazy, but when you’re deep in the dark, half-asleep and twisted in damp sheets, it doesn't feel like a memory at all. It feels like him, like Elias Moore is with you again.
—
You don’t remember falling asleep. One moment, you’re lying awake, sheets damp with sweat and panties soaked in your juices, and the next, Stack’s voice buzzing in your head like static from an old radio. The next, you blink and the air in your room is still, thick, like the atmosphere has shifted.
Everything feels heavy like you’re trapped in a fever dream. It’s dark, but not the usual dark. The shadows curve strangely, like they are watching your every move. The moon outside your window hangs low, shining brightly but coated with an unusual tinge of red.
When you sit up in bed, that’s when you feel a shift. The air grows sweeter and somehow warmer while the air presses down on your skin. You can see a figure emerge from the darkness, making your blood run cold and want to bolt out your bedroom but for some reason you don’t, you stay planted where you are, allowing your curiosity to get the best of you.
Your breath hitches before you even see it, before you know who’s there. “Damn, baby. You that wet f’me already?” That voice. A voice you haven’t heard in almost a decade, not with your ears anyway, but one that your soul never stopped aching for.
Your eyes dart to the corner, following the sound and there he is, Elias Moore, standing in your room like he never left, like he hasn’t been dead, gone, and buried beneath Remmick’s mind control.
Some parts of him don’t seem the same. His body’s too still. His shadow lurks for too long. But his face… Lord help you, his face is just how you remember it: sharp, smug, and so pretty it hurts. His smile crooks when he sees the way your mouth parts, your thighs clenching together while you watch his juicy lips move on one accord.
“Knew you missed me,” he says, sauntering forward, smirking so wide that you can see his gold grills. “Could smell it on ya’.” He circles your bed, nice and slow. The light from the window catches the faint gleam of his fangs as he speaks. “All that corn liquor and prayin’… but you still moanin’ my name in your sleep like I’m the Lord Almighty.”
You can’t move, can’t speak. All you can do is feel, feel your body react like it knows it belongs to Stack. Like you were stitched together for the sole purpose of unraveling under the command of his voice. You don’t even know what to say to him, you just look up at him with your big brown eyes, trying to wrap your mind around what’s happening.
Stack leans down beside you, one knee on the bed, while his hand rests on your leg. “You don’t gotta be ashamed no mo’. I been hearin’ you. Every time you touch yourself pretendin’ it’s me.” His voice lowers to a growl, taking in a whiff of your alluring scent, his eyes flashing a shade darker. “Your body been callin’ me, girl. Louder than it ever did when I was alive.”
“You… you really here?”
He smiles soft, that same grin he gave you at Club Juke before everything went to hell, before the best day of your life turned into the worst. “As here as you want me to be.”
His hand drags slowly up your leg, fingers cool but burning in their own way. He pulls the quilt down and exposes your physique that’s still clinging to the cotton material of your nightgown, sleek with sweat, nipples stiff from the sight of him, and your heart thumping out of your chest with nerves.
You stare at him like your eyes are playing tricks on you, but your body already believes he’s real, you can tell from his touch alone. Your thighs squeeze tighter, lips parted, chest rising faster by the second, while your body radiates with heat. “How… how you here?”
Stack chuckles low in his throat, trying to come up with the best response since there’s a multiple elements to the answer. “Don’t matter how, baby.” he murmurs, leaning close enough for your skin to prickle. “Jus’ matters that I am.”
Your body is one of the main reasons Stack’s here, it’s been calling him ever since he left but recently it’s been louder than ever. He knew he had to make his way to you, even if he had to make a deal with the devil to do it.
His gaze sweeps over you, slow and greedy, like he’s mesmerizing by how much your body has grown and filled out since he left. “Tried runnin’ from it. Tried to jus’ do as Remmick told me, but I couldn’t stay away from you.”
You breathe in sharp, his eyes staring at your body making you feel weak in the knees. “I thought… I thought you was gone. Thought you belonged to him now.”
“I did,” he says, averting his gaze thinking about what he’s been going through over the past year as a vampire. “He took everything, my soul, my reflection, my mind. Said if I stayed under him, he’d be able to make me happy but I can’t be happy without you in my life.”
His grin fades a little, eyes locking with yours again, taking off his hat and placing it on your little nightstand. “I remembered how you looked at me that night. Like I still had a soul, like you loved me even though I ain’t human no mo’.”
You blink back the heat in your eyes, placing your hand on top of his as it rests against your thigh. “What changed? How you back here wit’ me?” You ask again but with different wording than before, wanting to know how him sitting in front of you became possible after all this time apart.
Stack leans down, fingers ghosting over your skin, creeping up your body like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch but still testing the waters. “I made a deal. Gave Remmick whateva’ he wanted and in return, he gave me a few thangs.”
“What’s that?”
“You,” he says, quietly, his eyes softening. “ Your dreams. Let me see my own reflection. But I had to become… something else to let me do all that. Had to become… half demon.”
You blink slow, like the words don’t land right at first, not understanding how he could be part demon and part vampire at the same time. “Half… demon?” you whisper, like saying it aloud might wake you from whatever twisted spell your under.
Stack’s thumb drags lazy circles across your skin, his touch cold but familiar. “Incubus,” he murmurs, eyes flickering between his usual muddy brown and his vampire gray. “Remmick said if I wanted to see my reflection, wanted to see you, I had to give up somethin’ to become somethin’ else. Had to shed the last bit of man left in me.”
He sits back slightly, chest rising slow, and for the first time, you really look at him. There’s a glow to his skin now. Not bright, it’s like embers glowing in black ash. His fangs catch the light from the blood-colored moon. His shadow crawls unnaturally along the walls, following his movements like it got a mind of its own.
But his face—his eyes—still hold that flicker of Stack. That sweet, conniving boy you love more than your own breath. “Does it hurt?” you ask, throat tightening while giving his hand a light squeeze, wanting to know what it’s like being supernatural. “Bein’ like… this?”
“Sometimes. But the worst part was bein’ without you.”
You sit up slowly, reaching for him. Your fingers brush his jaw, touching his facial hair, and to your surprise, he leans into it, his eyes fluttering shut, basking in your affection like he hasn’t been touched since he last saw you. “You still feel like you.” you whisper.
Your hand drifts downwards, fingers pressing against his chiseled chest that’s covered by his clothing, feeling the faint thump beneath skin that should’ve been cold and still but there’s still a beat there. It’s faint and echoed but it’s there, beating like a secondhand rhythm, as if it’s trying to sync with yours.
You smile softly when you feel his heartbeat, happy that there’s still some life behind his eyes, that Remmick didn’t take the most precious parts of him away. “I dreamed of this,” you murmur, slowly running your hands over his pecs. “You comin’ back to me.”
His eyes open slowly while he gets up and hovers over your frame, mouth inches away from yours, so close that his breath is prickling your skin. “Then lemme make it real, baby. Make up for lost time.”
You nod once, breathing him in, allowing him to wander your body and do as he pleases. Stack kisses you like he’s trying to burn his name into your throat, like he’s trying to make you remember that your body belongs to him and him only.
His tongue sweeps in slow, taking his time, like he missed the taste of your mouth just as much as he missed your presence. You moan into him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you while your thighs spread to welcome him home.
His hand creeps under your little nightgown and slides between your legs, fingers sliding through your puffy folds, spreading them open with his fingers until his fingertips begin circling your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure like he already knows the rhythm you've been chasing in the dark all these years.
Your back rises from the bed while you gasp for air, and he shushes you soft. “I got you, baby.” he whispers against your cheek. “Jus’ relax.” He lowers himself, his tongue creating wide, wet licks against your folds. He takes his time eating your pussy; he grips your thighs and keeps your legs pried open, lips latched to your clit, and swirls his tongue in meticulous circular motion, lapping up every drop of arousal your body produces.
His tongue never leaves you, but you feel a shift. Not just in your body, but in the room itself. The air thickens, pressing heavy against your skin. His shadow stretches unnaturally long across the walls, his shadow much larger than his actual physique, as if the darkness is showing you his true form, the one he’s hiding so he doesn’t scare you.
You whimper, fingers running through his hair, tugging like you don’t know whether to pull him closer or push him and his eager tongue away. He groans into your cooze, a sound that vibrates straight through your clit, and when his eyes flick up, they flash a molten shade between gray and red, showing his vampire hunger bleeding into his incubus lust.
This goes on for a while, Stack showering your pearl love with powerful sucks and long licks with his tongue, making you moan and whine, but what he does next catches you off guard.
He bites.
Not deep, not enough to break your skin open like a wound, but enough to pierce the plush of your inner thigh, just beside where he’s devouring you. The sting makes you gasp, back arching, but it surprisingly doesn't hurt the way you thought it would. The pain morphs into something hotter, sharper, like fire rushing through your veins, making your toes curl and your pussy clench.
When your crimson liquid settles on Stack’s tongue, his eyes widen in awe. He hasn’t tasted blood this good in all his time of being a vampire. He’s always known your special, sweet, and tasted like honey, but he didn’t think your blood would reflect that.
Now that he’s consumed your blood and tasted its richness, those few droplets of blood won’t be enough. He needs more, much more. He needs your blood to consume his system.
It’s addictive, intoxicating, your blood gives him a high that nothing else can and before the night is over he will gain that feeling again.
Stack growls against your skin, feeding in two ways at once: mouth sucking hard at your clit, while licking the blood that’s dripping down your thigh, slurping both liquids like his life depends on it, because in a way it does.
While Stack devours you, it feels like your head is spinning. You swear you can feel your soul tugging, inching toward him like a moth being lured to flame.
The room tilts, heavy with a smoldering heat, and when you close your eyes, you see flickers of him, not the Stack that’s in front of you, but the one that used to make you breakfast in the morning despite his horrible cooking skills, the one who would pull you into the backroom of Club Juke when he wanted a taste of you, the Stack before he became the monster in front of you.
“Fuck, Stack.” You whine when you feel his fingers slowly begin to make their way into your dripping pussy, while his eyes stay focused on your beautifully twisted facial expressions and squirming body.
His skilled fingers begin to fuck you, maneuver themselves in a way that makes you feel things you can’t begin to explain, touching your soul in ways your fingers couldn’t no matter how hard you tried. “That feels good, don’t it baby?”
At first you weren’t even going to respond with words, but when you feel the delicious stretch of his fingers working overtime and the wet sounds of your greedy pussy welcoming her kng back to his castle, you yelp out a “Yes!” before grabbing at your cotton sheets, balling your hands into the soft material, making Stack smirk with pleasure.
When you don’t think the pleasure you feel can get any better, Stack adds a third finger inside you, pushing himself knuckles deep into your wetness while his tongue stays focused on your precious button. Now you can feel tears prickling at your eyes, the pleasure you’re feeling beginning to overwhelm your system.
That familiar sensation of a knot forming in your stomach floods your system, making you roll your hips to meet Stack’s thrusts, eagerly chasing your erotic high. Stack knows you’re about to cum, he can feel, smell it, taste it even. His movements increase in both speed and intensity, wanting this orgasm to crash over you.
His fingers picking up the pace as his mouth stays attached onto your clit, licking and sucking between each thrust of his fingers. By moving your hips in rhythm with his calloused digits, it helps the aching knot within your core finally snap, causing you to cry out in sweet bliss.
Pulling away from your spent pussy, Stack comes up for air, his plump lips and facial hair glistening with a beautiful mixture of your slick and blood. “This pussy…” his voice drops to a growl, thick with lust. “Still sweet enough to kill a man.” He mumbles with a thin smirk across his face before leaning over you.
He cups your face, thumb swiping the corner of your mouth, and then he’s kissing you. Both of your mouths move in sync with each other as your own juices begin to smear against your lips, allowing you to taste your own arousal.
It’s not a gentle kiss. It’s hot, sloppy, and wet. His tongue sliding against yours, teeth dragging over your bottom lip, while your hands find a place to rest around his neck. You moan into him and he swallows it down with ease.
Tasting your own slick is something that’s never happened before, let alone your own blood but for some reason, you enjoy it. It’s the right mixture of sweet and salty. You see why just the taste of you has Stack’s pupils blown wide when he hasn’t even fucked you yet.
When he finally pulls back, there’s a silvery string of saliva still connecting your mouths, like a representation of how even though you and Stack haven’t been together in years, your souls are still connected no matter how hard you try to deny it.
You look up at him, chest rising and falling, eyes soft but dazed. A thousand questions are crawling up your throat: is this real? why does it feel like this? what happens when you bite me? but before you can get any of them out, he presses a finger to your lips.
“Shhh,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing your cheek. “I know you scared, baby. I can feel it rollin’ off ya'. But I ain’t here to hurt you.” His voice is rough, but the pad of his thumb is soft.
His words slip through you like smoke: gentle, coaxing, and impossible to resist. The pad of his thumb strokes your skin in lazy circles, and the warmth in his eyes feels almost like a spell itself. “I’m jus’ here tuh’ love on ya’. That’s all.”
You swallow, trembling, feeling as if you should be scared of what Stack has become, that he’s technically not even human anymore and here you are allowing him in in your bed, giving him space in your mind, and allowing him full access to your body. “Stack…”
“I mean it.” He shifts, standing up to undo his belt, his dark eyes never leaving yours. “I been walkin’ a long road, fightin’ what’s inside me. But I ain’t never plan on usin’ it to hurt you. I come here to see my woman, give her the good lovin’ she deserves. To be back in her life.”
The room feels smaller when he moves, heat prickling at your skin as Stack’s presence thickens in the air. The lights seem to dim around him, the edges of the world fading until it’s only him and you.
Once his belt is unbuckled he pushes his pants down, then his boxers, and all of his other clothing until he’s completely bare. He steps back to the bed, climbing onto the mattress so he’s towering over you, still looking into your eyes. “If you want me gone,” he says quietly, hitting you with his smooth as silk tone. “I’ll leave and neva’ come back. I won’t touch you again. You say the word and I’m gone.”
For a moment the room is only the sound of your heavy breathing. Your hearing his words, but it’s hard to focus when his body is on perfect display before you. His pecs look nice and firm, his abs are divine, his thighs are muscular, and the main attraction, his dick. It’s so thick and heavy it completely hangs over you and rests against your stomach.
This incubus and vampire mixture has done his body well, in many ways than one. You've always considered Stack to be a well-endowed man but somehow he’s gotten bigger, thicker, and gained some inches in length.
You don’t want to allow his body and how well he can fuck to influence your decision but for some reason your mind feels foggy, like there’s an unusual force that’s convincing you to allow him to stay. His voice hums in your veins, each word vibrating somewhere deep inside, blurring fear and longing until they’re the same thing.
You can’t tell if it’s you wanting him, or the invisible thread he’s weaving around you, that low, thrumming pull that keeps drawing you in no matter how hard you try to resist.
Each word he speaks goes straight in your veins like a drug, vibrating under your skin, and suddenly your fear doesn’t feel sharp anymore; it’s softened, muddled with heat, with longing, and something that feels dangerously like trust.
Stack leans closer, and even without touching you, the air around him presses against your skin, warm and heavy, carrying the scent of something so powerful you can’t name. Your mind rebels, trying to pull away, to remind yourself of what he is, what he’s done, the time he’s been gone, and the danger of letting him get close just to leave you again.
But then a whisper snakes through your thoughts: his voice, your name, the memory of his laugh, the ghost of his touch, and suddenly your resolve feels fragile, like it’s dissolving into mist.
“You know it ain’t just words,” he murmurs, voice low and vibrating somewhere inside your chest. “I can feel every beat of your heart. Hear every thought. Ain’t no hiding from me, girl.”
Your mind flinches at the intrusion of his voice. It's almost too much, his awareness threading through your brain, brushing over the fears you try to keep hidden. You should push back. You want to. But every time you try, it feels like swimming against a current you don’t have the strength to fight.
And beneath the tension, beneath the fog of his pull, you feel the love you’ve never stopped feeling. A raw, aching need that isn’t just body-deep, it's rooted in the depths of your soul. You love him.
Every part of him; the dangerous, devilish, unhuman parts just as much as the boy who once held you under the moonlight outside Club Juke. Even knowing he isn’t fully himself anymore, even knowing a part of him could destroy you if he wanted… you still want him, your body still desires him.
He tilts his head, watching you with those deep, unreadable eyes. His gaze, his hum, the vibration of his voice inside you, are trying their hardest to pull an answer out of you. “Ain’t you tired of fightin’ it?” he whispers softly, looking you directly in your brown eyes. “Jus’ let me be here. Jus’ let me love you.”
Your chest tightens. Your pulse flutters. You feel a shiver race up your spine, not from fear, but from the undeniable pull. The intoxicating, impossible gravity of him. And in the moment, even as your mind wavers, even as you fight with the small, reasonable voice inside your head, you realize something: letting him stay… letting him close… isn’t surrender. It’s the only thing that has ever felt right.
Your chest tightens, and your pulse thrums in your ears. The air between you feels alive, heavy with the weight of him, the heat of his presence, and the hum that snakes through your mind. Every thought you try to hold onto seems to dissolve, replaced by the insistent pull of his voice, his gaze, his very being.
“Stack…” Your voice is barely more than a whisper, your eyes blurry with both fear and lust, looking up at him with blown pupils that are filled with love and his intoxicating presence. “I… I want you to stay.”
The words hang in the air, small but full of conviction. Even as your mind quivers with fear, even as the fog of his influence dances through your thoughts, you speak the truth: you want him. Every part of him. His danger, his power, his hunger, all of it.
A flicker of something dark and hungry passes through his eyes, tempered immediately by a softness that’s reserved only for you. He leans closer, letting the warmth of his body envelop yours without touching, and his voice vibrates somewhere deep inside, stirring a thrill and a shiver all at once.
“You mean that?” he murmurs out loud as he exits your mind, the sound of his tone vibrating along your body. “You really want me… here?”
You nod, your lips parting slightly, heart hammering in your chest. “Yes… I want you. I need you. I don’t care what you’ve become. I want every part of you.”
For a moment, his eyes soften in a way that almost seems human, almost vulnerable. And then in an instant, that dark, magnetic pull returns. The invisible thread of his incubus power tugging gently, insistent but not cruel, guiding your surrender without forcing it. You feel your body respond even before your mind fully registers, a shiver racing along your skin, your breath hitching, your pulse syncing to his presence.
“Good,” he whispers, low, almost coming out as a growl. “Ain’t nothin’ I want more than to hear you say that.” He hovers like a living shadow over you, and even as your mind still flutters between caution and desire, there’s no denying it that you’ve chosen him. Even knowing the danger, even feeling the strange pull of his powers, you’ve given him the space to stay, to be near you.
And for the first time since he appeared, your fear and longing fuse into something dangerously beautiful. You’ve allowed him in, and he knows it. Every fiber of him can feel your decision, can taste the acceptance in your thoughts, he’s practically feeding off of your lust.
Your lips curve slightly in a shaky smile, and Stack tilts his head, allowing a low, satisfied hum to vibrate through the room. “That’s my woman,” he murmurs, voice thick with something feral, possessive, and hungry, yet laced with that reserved tenderness strictly for you. “Ain’t no turnin’ back now, baby.”
The words aren’t a threat. They’re a promise. And somehow, impossibly, within the mix of fear and desire, you feel like you’re exactly where you belong. You raise your hand, a slight quiver in it while you reach for Stack’s face. When your warm palm touches the cold skin along his cheek, his whole demeanor changes. He softens, leaning into your touch, a faint sound escaping him, somewhere between a sigh and a growl.
Soon enough, his lips meet yours, and the world narrows to a realm where only you and him exist. The kiss isn’t gentle; it’s a claim, a plea, an apology all at once. It represents you and him claiming each other all over again, accepting the changes both of you have made while apart.
You taste the faint trace of iron on his tongue, the ghost of his hunger, and still you pull him near until it feels like you might dissolve into him. When you finally break apart, unguarded thoughts slip through the haze of your mind; images of positions you want to be in, a flash of wanting to take control, and wanting to fulfill every single fantasy that’s plagued your mind since he left.
None of these thoughts are spoken aloud, but thanks to Stack’s hybrid abilities, he can read your mind clear as day. The instant any thought forms, he catches it before you can even realize it. Without saying a word, in a singular movement, Stack moves you and him in a position to where you’re on top.
The weight of his body now beneath yours, his hands resting at your hips, slowly rubbing against your skin. The quickness of his motion steals the air from your lungs, not from fear, but from the way he makes it feel inevitable, like gravity itself bent to your will.
You look down at him, at the mixture of devotion and danger in his eyes, and realize he isn’t taking control; he’s giving it, allowing you to have your way with his body any way you see fit. The incubus inside him listens not just to your words but to your heartbeat, your unspoken wishes, your desires. He’s going to make sure your every dream comes true tonight, giving you the homecoming you deserve.
You don’t know to do at first, you’re too nervous and in your head. You don’t know if you should kiss his happy trail, suck his dick, or just ride him. There’s so many things you want to do with his body you don’t know where to start. Plus, you want to be the best for him, you want to rock his world so hard he never leaves you again.
Stack can feel your worry radiating from you so he grabs your hand and places a kiss on your knuckles before resting your hand on his chest, right over his pecs. “Take what’s yours, sweetheart.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes, calming your mind and heart before making your first move. Stack’s been your man for so long, your name is practically engraved on his pelvis from how many times your ass has met it from his thrust. Stack’s body is yours, every part of him belongs to you so there’s no reason to be nervous.
When you open your eyes, your gaze locking with Stack’s, and you can see how eager he is to be inside you, to feel the warmth of your pussy engulf his body. You raise up a little, allowing space between you and him before grabbing his hardened dick, giving him a few long strokes before rubbing the tip along your wet folds.
You’re so wet, practically dripping from most of your own slick and half of Stack’s saliva from when he devoured your cunt. Once there’s enough of your juices gathered on his dick, using it as a lubricant, you align him with your hole, placing one hand on his shoulder for stability before slowly sinking onto his length. You bit your lip as his dick stretches your pussy, brows furrowed in concentration as you pause every couple of inches, allowing your body to adjust to Stack’s immense size.
While you're slowly making progress, working your way to fit all twelve inches of his monster dick inside of your pulsing walls, Stack’s already on the verge of loosing his composure. All his mind can focus on is the suffocating heat of your pussy engulfing his dick, swallowing him inch after inch, allowing his mushroom tip to work its way to your cervix.
Stack doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust into you, or slam you down so you can reach his pelvis, he just lays there and tries his best to control his rapid breathing and instincts to ram his dick into you until all your mind can think of is how good he’s fucking you.
You’re so tight, gripping his shaft with an overwhelming force, a feeling he’s missed every night since Remmick forced him into his vampire coven. Stack places his hands on your hips, wrapping his big palms around your skin with a firm grip, exhaling with a shaky breath before letting out a groan.
Once you feel acclimated with his size and your fully stuffed with his massive length, you lean forward and place your hands on his broad chest and meaty pecs, planting the soles of your feet on the mattress underneath you, lifting your hips, preparing yourself to ride.
Stack’s dick almost completely out of you, his tip the only thing residing in your velvety walls, quickly chipping away at his restraint of containing the raging sexual beast inside him. “C’mon, baby. Don’t me wait.” He growls, pressing his nails into your coco butter skin.
“Mm someone’s eager, musta really missed this cooze, huh?” You giggle softly, thinking it’s funny how Stack can’t control himself. You decide to end your man’s suffering and give him the pleasure he desires. Instead of moving cautiously like you were before when you were trying to adjust to size, you begin to ride.
You slam yourself down onto Stack’s dick, your pussy kissing his groin which pulls a moan out of Stack. He feels the head of his cock resting comfortably against your cervix, tenderly pressing against the opening of your womb.
Your hybrid man stares at you with a feverish gaze, his eyes darkening as his pupils grow with lust. Stack bites his bottom lip, his lower fangs piercing hard enough for him to taste copper, something he’s grown to love due to his vampire roots.
“Shit.” Stack mutters, feeling your slick slowly drip down his shaft, your warm cooze squeezing him like a vice as his cock twitches inside you. “Damn, this pussy wet.”
Instead of responding verbally, you just grin, taking in the compliment while allowing your body to do all the talking, knowing it’ll be able to respond in ways your words can’t.
Starting with a beautiful pace, moving your hips fast and hard, bouncing yourself on Stack’s cock, causing you and him to spill moans in the air, each sound vibrating from deep within your core.
Each time you lift your hips and slam them back down, your slick smears against your thighs, creating a sticky puddle to form on Stack’s pelvis and every time you move a slimy line connects between him and you.
His cock drives into the depths of your cooze, his inhuman girth stretching you out nice and wide, forming a delicious burn to spread through your core. All twelve inches somehow fits into your pussy after bullying it into your hole, your human body happily accepting his cock despite its new size.
As you ride ihim will all your strength, feeling his tip repeatedly press against pleasure points that you didn’t know were there, plugging his length inside your pussy over and over, forcing it deeper with every slam of your hips, makes it feel like his dick has reached your stomach, overwhelming your body with a feeling of being stuffed to brim. “You’re so big, Elias— Shit.” You whine while forcing his dick deeper with every slam of your hips.
You look down and that’s when you see the prominent bulge poking out of your stomach that forms every time he’s fully inside you. You’ve never seen anything like it. You take your hand, placing it over the area of your stomach that’s bulging out, in awe of how Stack’s dick could cause this to happen. You assume it’s because of it’s his incubus and vampire abilities that allows you to see his cock’s outline while it’s deep inside.
“Thanks to this demon blood runnin’ in my veins, I get to reach all up in yo’ shit.” Stack says before a groan forces its way out of his throat, feeling your intoxicating heat swallowing him whole as his heavy cock throbs inside you. Him being half-vampire and half-incubus isn’t all bad, it gives him many perks, one of them being a strong stamina. He’s able to have sex for hours without getting tired. He can empty his seed numerous of times and somehow rapidly produce more.
Your human body isn’t capable of doing the things he can. He knows you won’t be able to keep up with him and go round after round like when you both were human.
When he notices you becoming tired, your legs being to tremble from standing on them for too long, your chest heaving from tying to catch your breath, and practically feeling the burn in your legs, he decides to take the reigns.
Stack’s hands palm your ass, grasping a huge chuck of your flesh, before thrusting himself into you, lifting you up and down as if you weigh nothing. When you feel his hands grab you, forcing you down onto his cock, you let out a sharp gasp, feeling a slight pinch from his harsh grip on your ass but you aren’t complaining, especially not when he looks into your eyes like he wants to stay buried inside your pussy for the rest of eternity.
You decide to slightly change positions: moving off the soles of your feet, bending your legs and pressing your knees and shins on the mattress, and then leaning back to rest your hands on Stack’s thighs for support.
This position provides Stack with perfect view of yourself, allowing him to admire you fully. The bouncing of your breasts with every thrust, the curve of your hips, watching your tight pussy make his dick disappear every time he’s inside, gripping him tight, causing him twitch inside you, slowly aching for the moment where he’ll be able to spill his seed inside of you.
Stack can feel that your body is ready to release for the second time tonight, that an orgasm will be ripping through you any minute and he was going to allow his sweet girl the pleasure, until a thought popped into his head.
While mid-thrust, your moans and curses filling the room while his dick presses against your g-spot, he remembers how you used to fulfill your sexual desires when he was gone.
Around year three of him being gone, you were becoming more and more lonely. Not having a warm body to sleep next to you at night, someone to lick your cooze after a long day of work in the fields, or a nice long fuck when you were feeling desireable, made you look for love elsewhere.
During that time you dated a couple guys. Things were never serious, you just wanted to have some fun and try to forget about the hole Stack left in your heart. The men you had sex with were pretty decent in bed, but none of them fulfilled you the way you expected them to.
While Stack was away he could hear everything. Hear the thoughts in your mind, visuals the events that took place in your home, nothing happened that he didn't know about. Stack knows he shouldn’t be mad, that you had all the right to try and move on from him after he abandoned you, but he can’t help but feel himself getting angry, heat rising in chest, feeling his grip on you tighten even more, knowing it’ll form a bruise.
Stack thrusts begin to increase in pace, harshly forcing his dick inside you while slamming you against his pelvis at the same time, taking his anger out on you in the most rewarding way. “Them men you was fuckin’...” He says, feeling himself get more upset at the thought of you allowing another man between your legs. “Bet none of them could give you dick this good.” He pauses his words for a second, biting back a moan when he feels you flutter around him. “Ain’t that right?”
“Yes— fuck yes!” You yell out, feeling that coil in your stomach slowly beginning to tighten while your brain goes fuzzy, Stack’s monster dick overwhelming your senses, forcing you to only focus on the pleasure you feel pulsing through your veins and the sound of Stack’s hypnotizing voice.
“You ain’t neva gon’ fuck nobody else ya’ hear me? This pussy belongs to me, can’t be givin’ no bum nigga what’s mine.” Now that Stack’s back in your life, he ain't never gonna let you give your body to another soul, because if you do, he’ll kill them right where they stand, just like he had to the couple of guys you fucked. He couldn’t allow them to live another day being able to say they had sex with you, in Stack’s eyes they had to die.
“Yes— I- I- promise! I only want you, Stack.” After those numbered flings, you never had sexual relations with another man until now. None of them could make your body scream like Stack, pull multiple orgasms out of you in one night, and no one could devour your pussy like he could. Those men meant nothing to you while Stack means everything.
Stack knows you're being honest, especially since he can hear every thought formed in your mind, so he decides to let it go, not wanting to hold onto the past and things that happened during a time where you felt like he could never return.
The hybrid decides to shift gears on things, he doesn’t want to just fuck anymore, he wants to make love. With his ability to move at a milli second, before you can even blink your place on your back, looking up at Stack whose large frame is towering over you, his dick still fully buried inside your velvety walls.
Stack’s breath comes out heavy against your skin, the tension filling the room starting to shift, his gaze softening under the way he looks at you, not like a man angry or possessive, but one who’s afraid to lose the only thing that’s ever made him feel alive.
His hand slides up your waist and rests on your face, Stack’s rough palm meeting your cheek, looking at you with hearts in his eyes. His thumb brushes just below your eye, catching an unshed tear before it has the ability to pass the waterline. “You know I love you, right?”
You nod slowly, fingers curling around his wrist as you whisper, “I know…I love you too.” When Stack hears you express your love for him, despite your years of separation, his cold heart feels like it’s beating a mile a minute. His love for you has always run deep, even in the early days when he didn’t want to admit his heart had been swooned.
Stack’s eyes rack over your features, his colored irises staring at your plump lips before he leans down, kissing you softly, his fangs scraping along your lips, slightly breaking skin but not enough to draw blood. The longer the kiss lasts, the more it deepens, carrying years of pain, loss, and the kind of longing that only comes from missing someone down to the bone.
When Stack finally resumes his thrusts, his movements are slower than before, more tender, and full of a softness that stems from love over lust. The anger that once drove his strokes is gone. Now his body moves with devotion, a way to show you that he’s still yours, in every way that matters.
His forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he murmurs, “No matter what I turn into… I’ll always choose you. This life, the next one, it don’t matter. It’s always gon’ be you.”
Your heart softens instantly at his words, breaking wide. It’s like every ounce of tension that’s lived in your body for years: the fear from that night, the anger of him leaving, the loneliness that his absence caused, melts all at once beneath the sound of his voice. Every word drips with sincerity, that deep, ancient kind of love that’s always tied you to him, no matter what form he takes.
Your eyes sting, warmth blurring your vision. Maybe it’s from the heat of the moment, or maybe it’s because you know what he’s saying isn’t just a promise. It’s a vow. A truth that hums in your bones, thrumming with power, and devotion.
Your hands rise slowly, trembling as they find their way around his shoulders, pulling him closer until your breasts kiss his chest. His skin burns beneath your fingertips, searing and alive. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the faint tremor that ripples through his muscles, and the pulse that matches your own.
You thread your fingers behind his neck, holding him as though your touch alone might keep him tethered to this realm, to you. He presses his nose to your cheek, his breath shaky against your skin, and for a moment it’s like you can feel his soul brushing yours, the edges of it rough and hungry, but still reaching, still yearning, two souls wanting to become one.
The space between love and surrender dissolves until there’s no boundary left to cross, no distinction between the two. Only the rhythm of your breaths, blending into one.
You’ve never felt anything like this. Not even in the wildest, most fevered memories of his touch. This closeness feels almost impossible to explain. It’s more than physical and more than lust. It’s a connection that hums deep in your blood, as though your bodies were carved to fit this way, as though his darkness and your light were meant to form something beautiful.
Maybe it’s his power that makes everything sharper, the way his energy heightens your senses, amplifies every breath, every heartbeat, and every tremor of desire. But you don’t care. Whatever this is, whatever he’s become, you wouldn’t trade him for anything.
Stack buries his face in the curve of your neck, the tip of his nose brushing against your skin as he breathes you in. Your scent floods him: soft, warm, and maddeningly sweet. His supernatural senses sharpen until it’s all he can focus on: the rhythm of your breath, the heat of your skin, the faint, metallic thrum of blood rushing beneath the surface. It’s too much and not enough all at once.
His mouth parts before he even realizes it, a low sound rumbling in his chest as the faint taste of your blood lingers on his tongue, pulling him deeper into the spell that only you can cast.
The scent along your skin stirs something inside him, primal and uncontrollable. His mouth waters without warning, saliva pooling thick and heavy under his tongue as his body reacts to you in ways he can’t suppress. He swallows hard, jaw tensing as if trying to restrain himself, but it only makes it worse.
Your scent is everywhere, flooding his senses until his every thought is consumed with an image of you. Every instinct inside him is screaming to take, to taste, to lose himself in you completely, but he doesn’t want to scare you, overwhelm you with his true form.
His breath comes out ragged against your skin, the sound low and trembling like he’s trying to contain something wild inside him. You feel the tremor beneath his skin, the hunger that coils through him like heat rising from the earth. His fingers flex against your hips, his body straining with restraint, every muscle tight and trembling.
When Stack lifts his head, his lips glisten faintly in the dim light, and for a second, you think he’s sweating from the heat growing within the room. But when you focus on his facial features, your eyes notice a shine at the corner of his mouth, then you see a clear substance dripping down his brown skin. “Baby,” you whisper, voice soft but filled with concern, wondering why he’s practically salivating at the mouth. “you droolin’.”
He huffs out a shaky laugh, fingers brushing at the corner of his mouth as if he’s just realizing it. “Oh, shit.” he mutters, shaking his head before looking back at you with that crooked grin that makes your stomach twist in knots.
There’s something in his eyes. Desire, yes, but deeper. Hungrier. Almost feral. Like his very soul is reaching for yours, starving for a connection only you can give, a connection that runs deeper than just loving each other. When he leans in again, his lips barely graze yours, allowing his breath to prickle your skin. “You want some?”
Stack’s always been a freak, pushing boundaries and teasing you until you forgot how to breathe, but this time feels different from all the other filthy acts thats transpired between you. The look in his eyes isn’t playful; it’s hungry in a way that goes beyond the flesh.
His gaze lingers on your lips, his chest rising and falling in shallow bursts, like he’s trying to hold himself together before something deep inside him breaks free.
You bite your lip, breath trembling as you hold his gaze. Something about the way he looks at you makes the world tilt, like gravity itself has shifted and the only thing keeping you grounded is him. Every instinct in your body tells you to pull back, to question the danger that glowing behind his eyes, but you can’t. You’re tangled in his web.
The air between you thickens, charged with something unseen but you can feel it everywhere; on your skin, in your chest, vibrating through the blood in your veins.
Surprisingly, Stack’s never spit in your mouth before, the thought of swapping spit never even crossed your mind. But in this moment, allowing his bodily fluids to enter your mouth has never felt more right.
You nod, assuring and deliberate, surrendering to the pull between you. When Stack receives the green light, a smirk curls along his lips. His hand cusps your jaw, pressing his thumb against your lower lip, coaxing you to open your mouth. Once your lips are parted, Stack’s opens his mouth, lifting his tongue and allowing the pool of his saliva to pass his lips, a thick line being pulled by gravity and into your mouth.
His drool settles on your palette, warm against your tongue. You thought this exchange would feel strange, that you would feel grossed out with his spit in your mouth but it just turns you on even more. Your walls spasm around his shaft, squeezing him in while his saliva travels through your throat.
As Stack’s relentless strokes ripple through you, you can feel the coil tightening inside of you threatening to snap. Feeling Stack’s cock pressing against your g-spot, throbbing inside your warm heat, inching you closer to climbing over the edge into a marvelous high.
Stack can hear your blood coursing through your precious veins, making him salivate at the mouth all over again. The memory of your crimson liquid still lingers on his tongue. The darkened richness of your blood, the warmth and sweetness of it, fueling the fire that’s burning in his lower belly.
The echo of its taste thrums through him like a heartbeat, pulling at the part of him that’s no longer human. His pulse pounds behind his teeth, his body burning with a hunger that has nothing to do with food and everything to do with you.
He cups your chin, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw before lifting your face to his, exposing the crock of your neck. His eyes darken, pupils swallowing the light, and for a moment you get a glimpse of what being a vampire truly entails, the deeply rooted need for human blood.
When he lowers his head to your neck, you feel the warmth of his breath, then the trembling exhale that tells you he’s fighting his vampire instincts, trying his best not to frighten you but it’s too late for that. Fear hums through you, low and involuntary, and he feels it coursing through your body at a mile a minute.
“Don’t be afraid, baby.” Stack whispers, voice softened but rugged. His thumb traces the curve of your throat, feeling your jugular vein pulsing beneath your flesh, the sound flooding his ears until its all his mind can focus on is the blood flowing through it. “Everything gon’ be alright. I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just—” He swallows hard, feeling a line of drool hang along the corner of his mouth, cascading down his chin. “—just need to taste ya’.”
You can tell he’s trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to calm you, and the thought makes your chest ache, that even with his raging hybrid instincts, he puts you before it all, making sure you’re comfortable. Even though there’s a part of you that’s scared out of your mind at the sight unraveling before you, the other half is dying to see what comes next.
When Stack leans in closer, the tip of his nose presses your skin, taking in a whiff of your alluring pheromones, helping him relax just a tad. Then, in a gentle manner, he presses his lips to your neck, while still thrusting inside of you at a slow and steady pace, knowing it’ll help keep your mind at ease.
The moment his fangs break skin and the tips of them dig into sections of your flesh, sucking your blood, your whole world stills. A flash of white heat floods through your body, an unearthly connection blooming from the wound outward, like roots threading through soil, traveling from his heart to yours. You feel him in your pussy, your mind, your stomach, your heart, everywhere. His essence is practically digging into yours, binding itself to the very fabric of your soul.
A current passes between you like a flash of lightning, stealing your every breath and twisting your nerves until there nothing but a lump of clay. The bond strikes so suddenly, so deep inside you, that you forget where your body ends and his begins. For a moment, you swear you can feel his pulse echoing in your chest, his thoughts brushing the edge of your mind, and the rising climax of his own orgasm.
It’s said that when a vampire takes what’s called “the little drink”, feeding on someone they love, they plant a mark on you that never fades. A spiritual tether that ties their fates together, no matter the distance or the lifetime.
For Stack, drinking your golden blood is like drinking life itself. Each drop is an ember sliding through his veins, burning away the emptiness that’s haunted him since he first turned, allowing his dark and empty soul to feel whole again.
The world brightens, sounds clearer, colors deeper, your heartbeat a rhythm he could listen to for the rest of eternity and never go tired. He feels drunk on you, not from the blood alone but from the way your spirit folds into his, warm and trusting, like your soul was custom-made to align with him.
For you, it’s overwhelming and transcendent. Your fear dissolves, replaced by warmth so consuming it borders on light. You see flashes in your mind; his memories, the long years he yearned for you, the torture of being under Remmick’s command, and his life within the coven.
The air thickens, every sense heightening until the room tilts and your body feels weightless. It’s like every secret in the universe just opened to you; clarity, color, and the dizzying truth of being alive. The blinding pleasure swells into something almost holy, and yet it frightens you, because you can feel Stack’s presence threading through every nerve.
The pressure of Stack’s bite is sharp, for a moment it’s all you can think about, until Stack’s thrust increase in speed. With your blood dispersing through his body, he can feel a tension growing in his lower half, the ache becoming stronger as its sweet taste satisfied his hunger.
Feeling his long, deep strokes, the way he bullies his cock through your wetness to reach your cervix, makes you cling onto him for dear life, feeling your body becoming overstimulated from the wide range of pleasures from his sex and his bite. “Elias, please…” You mutter, clawing your nails at his back, drawing lines along his skin until your marks are etched into his flesh. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, what your body is asking for, but Stack knows, he always does.
With his fangs still attached to your neck, he can’t verbally response, but thanks to his special abilities, he can use his mind. “Dont worry, baby. I gotchu. Papa gotchu.” His words float around your brain, breaking through the ecstatic fog of “the little drink” and allowing you to hear his voice.
Stack can feel your body’s need for a release, how your only a few thrusts away from creaming around him for a third time tonight. He knows it’s what you want and as your significant other, he isn't about to deny you the pleasure of reaching your moment of ecstasy.
Stack moves his hand down your breast, taking it in his hand and applying pressure to your nipple, twisting it in a way that sends a surge of pleasure through your body, making a moan fly from your mouth. His special touch, the way he handles your body with such detail and care, knowing every position and thing that makes you tick, pushes you closer to cumming.
But, what tips you over the edge is his voice, his demanding tone, when he unlatches from your neck, lifting his head, allowing you to look him in the eye. “Cum for me, baby.” When you look at Stack, taking in his features, you see your own blood smeared on his lips, some caught in his goatee, while his gold tooth and fangs flash you. You’ve never been more attracted to him than you are in this moment.
His piercing gaze, the deeply rooted connection you now share, and his wicked effect on your body, makes you cum the instant the words leave his filthy mouth. Your body tenses, your walls spasming around his shaft, attempting to drain him while your legs begin to twitch. When Stack feels you tightening around him, completely trapping him right at the opening of your womb, he lets out a sharp hiss, not being able to repress his urge to breed you, thanks to his hybrid ways.
When you feel Stack’s tip continually pressing against you, your body trembles until your juices flow from all directions. A piercing cry rips through you as your body becomes overwhelmed, feeling like it’s being ripped in half. Your white cream surrounds the base of Stack’s cock, while your juices splash onto his lower stomach, feeling your walls contract rapidly around him, one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever experienced.
While your moans and cries fill the stuffy room, Stack is right there meeting you in the middle. A loud groan rumbles from his throat, along with a string of curses as he pumps you full of his seed, thick ropes of his cum filling your womb until he empties his large load inside you, so much that’s its leaking out the sides.
Your body is still trembling when the world finally stills. The room feels thick with the scent of him: smoke and musk and something darker, metallic, like the ghost of your own blood. Stack stays inside the quiet a long while, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard.
The wildness that burned in him moments ago softens into something almost tender. His thumb traces lazy circles over your hip, grounding you, like he’s trying to remind himself you’re real, that after years of longing for this moment you’re finally underneath him again.
At first, neither of you speak at first. You just listen to his breathing, the faint beat of the blood flowing inside him, and the rhythm of your own pulse slowly steadying. When he finally moves, pulling out of your warmth, it’s only to pull you closer, one hand sliding up your spine until your face is pressed to the curve of his neck. His skin is still hot, the faintest tremor running through him, but his voice with a low, steady rumble when he finally speaks.
“You safe wit’ me.” he murmurs, lips brushing your hair. “I ain’t ever gon’ hurt ya’.” You nod against him, though your body still hums from the aftershock, not just from what he did, but what you felt when he did it. It wasn’t just hunger or pleasure or pain; it was deeper, something that settled in your bones. Like he just planted his roots inside you. Claimed you as his lifetime companion.
Stack exhales slowly, the rise and fall of his chest rocking you in a quiet rhythm. You feel him relax, the tension in his body unwinding until his breathing matches yours. His hand drifts up your waist, fingers wrapping around you as he pulls you against him, cuddling each other while he whispers something too low to catch, maybe a prayer, maybe your name, but either way there’s a warmth in his tone that makes you nuzzle against his chest.
After resting in each others presence for almost an hour, he presses a kiss to your temple, soft and lingering, before pulling back just enough to see your beautiful face.
The look in his eyes makes your chest ache, a mix of tenderness and something close to regret, making you realize whatever he’s about to say isnt going to be something you want to hear. “I gotta go, baby,” he says reluctantly, the words instantly feeling like stones in his heart.
You blink up at him, wrapping your hands around his arm before he can pull away, holding him tightly, hoping he’ll change his mind. “Stay,” you whisper, feeling yourself on the verge of tears at the thought of him disappearing into the night. “Please, Elias. I don’t want you to go.” You just got Stack back, you don’t want him to leave you again, not knowing what’s going on with him or where he is, and having to suffer with being haunted with his memory until he returns.
He shakes his head slowly, brushing his knuckles along your jaw, the disappointment in your eyes making him wish he didn’t have to leave. “Can’t stay. Not right now. But I’ll be back soon.” His eyes search yours, trying his best to keep up a brave face, not wanting your last memory of him to be a sad expression on his face. “You know I keep my word.”
You want to argue, to beg him not to go, but something in his gaze stills your tongue. The weight behind his words tells you this isn’t a choice he’s able to fight. There’s something darker moving beneath the surface, a force older than either of you, one that demands obedience from creatures like him or he’ll have to suffer the consequences.
He glances toward the window where the first faint traces of dawn are beginning to stretch across the horizon, letting him know his time is up. His expression shifts, the faintest flicker of pain shadowing his face as the light brushes the corners of your room.
“If I stay past sunrise,” he murmurs, “it’ll eat at me from the inside out. Take me piece by piece ‘til there’s nothin’ left but ash.” His thumb drags lightly across your lower lip, his touch trembling even though he tries to keep it steady. “And you don’t wanna see me like that, baby. Trust me.”
The memory of his bite still burns on your neck, a dull, throbbing heat that seems to pulse in time with your heartbeat. The bond between you feels alive, tugging at your chest with an ache that grows stronger the farther away he moves.
You can feel his energy even now, the echo of it humming beneath your skin, that supernatural tether he’s tied to your soul. It calls for him, aching for him to stay, but he forces himself to step back, jaw tightening like every inch of distance between you is killing him inside.
“You need to rest,” he says softly, feeling how spent out and tired you are. “Let your body get used to what I done. The bond… it’s fresh. If I stay too long, I’ll take more than I should. Don’t wanna hurt you, not when I finally got you back.”
You can feel the truth of it deep in your bones, the mark he’s left on you thrums with power, your pulse skipping in strange, uneven beats. His presence is overwhelming, a heat that fills every space in your mind and body, and you realize that if he doesn’t leave now, if he lingers any longer, he’ll consume you completely. Not out of cruelty, but out of love that’s too potent, too primal to control.
He leans in one last time, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, giving you a touch of affection to remember him by. “Ain’t nothin’ gon’ keep me from you. I’ll be back ‘fore the moon even think about risin’ again.”
And then within a blink of an eye, he’s gone, slipping into the fading darkness, leaving behind only the echo of his promise and the faint scent of smoke and heat that clings to the air.
—
When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the quiet. No sound of the cicadas outside, no trace of Stack’s voice humming against your ear. Just stillness. Thick, eerie, and heavy stillness.
For a few seconds, your mind drifts somewhere between sleep and waking. The sheets beneath you are cool now, but they smell faintly of Elias: smoke, sweat, and the metallic hint of blood.
The memory of his body pressed against yours lingers so vividly that your pulse stumbles, confused. You can still feel where his hands had been. Still feel the weight of his breath against your skin. You can even still feel the belly bulge that formed when Stack was inside you.
You blink, slow and heavy, trying to shake these strange feelings off. You assume it was just a dream. One of your usual wild and fevered dreams born from too many restless nights without Stack to satisfy your desires. The kind that clings to your skin long after it should’ve faded.
When you glance at the space beside you, you see the pillow is dented, faintly warm, like someone had been lying there not long ago. When you lean over, you can even smell Stack’s signature scent which is impossible since you haven’t seen him in over a decade.
You can’t believe what your mind is trying to convey. At this point you assume you’re just that sleep deprived. You sit up, the sheets falling to your waist. Your nightgown clings to you, wrinkled and slightly damp, a few faint stains marking the fabric. Your fingers curl into the material, and your chest tightens with confusion.
‘It couldn’t have been real’, you think to yourself, in disbelief of what happened. The shift of your legs makes the nightgown stick to your thighs. The fabric is damp, not just with sweat, but something thicker, heavier. When you lift your nightgown, you see your arousal smeared on your inner thighs, and you can feel a liquid till oozing from your womb.
The sheets beneath you correlate with the story painted across your body, rumpled and soiled like you lived through the dream instead of only imagining it.
At this point you don’t know whether to believe your mind or your body. With a thudding heart, you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and push yourself to stand despite the shakiness in your legs, the wooden floor cold under your feet. Your reflection in the mirror across the room wavers faintly in the early light, not allowing you to see too much without being face to face.
As you get closer, you almost don’t want to look at your reflection. But curiosity draws you in. When you’re in front of the mirror, and your eyes are settled on your reflection, your eyes widen.
Your lips are swollen, faint bruises blooming across your collarbone, and you can see the puncture holes on your bottom lip from when Stack’s fangs pricked into it. But, those aren’t the markings that startle you, it’s the one on your neck that stops you cold.
When you turn your neck to the right, allowing you to get a better view, you see two deep puncture holes, delicate and red, surrounded by faint reddening where his mouth had been that’s slowly darkening as time passes.
You reach up, breath shallow, and trace his teeth marks with your fingertips, your eyes watching the lines of blood flow down your neck. The skin there is tender, pulsing faintly beneath your touch. When you press a little harder, a shiver runs through your body, making you groan from the feeling.
Running the pads of your fingers the bite, causes the dream to come flooding back. The way he looked at you. The way your souls seemed to twist together until you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. The warmth, the ache, the sound of him whispering sweet nothings in your ear, while pounding his length inside you until your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
You let out a soft laugh, more breath than sound, shaking your head like it might clear the haze surrounding your mind. At first you thought your brain had conjured him up to soothe the ache within your soul, but seeing all the evidence that a sexual encounter took place, you know that Stack was actually here.
Your fingers linger on the bite a moment longer before they drop to your side, trying to grasp the concept of what happened. You look at yourself in the mirror, a small, secret smile tugging at your lips. You haven’t felt this bright in years.
With Stack’s visit, he’s opened a part of you that’s been hidden for a long time. You don’t know when his next visit will be but whatever it entails, whether it’s him drinking your blood, filling your brain with his hypnotizing words, or making you take his monster cock until his cum spills out of you, you’re more than ready for it.
when i think about stack, i think of him being real vocal during sex. no matter the position, if he can he’s kissing anywhere he can reach. “feels so fuckin’ good” he grunts kissing your neck as you ride him—chasing your own orgasm.
as if it wasn’t bad enough, stack’s burying himself deep into you.
“oh fuck” you moan out as he presses his forearm against your lower back bringing your breast close to his mouth ‘fore sucking on the nipple. along with him literally latching on your tit like a baby, he’s bucking his hips like crazy.
“mm—ride that dick, [𝜗𝜚]” he grumbled as his hand found its way to your ass, gripping and slapping. you bounce faster as he huffs. “take that shit” he speaks slapping your ass not hard enough to bruise but, hard enough to sting.
you keep riding as he groans gripping your hips, stack taps your hip signaling position change. he swiftly picks you up and flips you on your back, with him between your legs.
“i love bein’ in here” he says smugly before kissing your mouth, a sloppy kiss. soon enough the thrusting starts. he’s attacking your sweet spot repeatedly in hopes of you reaching your climax first.
because he’s sweet like that.
“you takin’ this shit good for me baby” he praises in your ear as he bottoms you out. “ngh fuck” you whine aloud as elias kisses your cheeks “cum on this dick, [𝜗𝜚]” he encourages as he buries his load deep in your womb.
your walls clench around his throbbing dick causing your body to stutter as you reach your climax. “there it go” he says deeply with a throaty chuckle before pulling out after a minute or two and holding you.
“i can clean it up if you want” stack says already making his way down between your legs.
Summary: Your boyfriend Stack refuses to turn you into a vampire, but that doesn’t mean you can’t nibble on him…
Pairing: Elias “Stack” Moore x Black fem!reader
Warnings: smutty smut, explicit language, teeth kink, riding, use of n-word, creampie
Word count: 762
Kinktober 2025 Masterlist
The movie played low on the TV, mostly background noise. You were curled against Stack, one leg draped over his, a ceramic bowl of fruit balanced precariously in your lap. The scent of it filled the air. Mango, pineapple, blueberries, and a little lime.
“You ever miss it?” you asked around a bite, licking the acidic juice from your thumb.
He tilted his head, eyes half-lidded. “Miss what, baby?”
“Food,” you clarified. “You know, chewing, tasting, swallowing, all the normal human stuff.”
Stack smiled, slow and lazy. “Nah, not really. I guess I got used to other…flavors.”
You laughed, giving him the sharpest side-eye. “What—O-negative and AB-positive?”
“Ain’t wrong though,” he said, leaning in close enough for you to feel the ghost of his breath on your neck. “You smell better than anything I ever ate when I was alive.”
You rolled your eyes, but your pulse betrayed you, thumping beneath your skin. He sensed it, of course, and his grin deepened, his fangs flashing for just a second.
“Watch out,” you murmured. “You lookin’ at me like I’m dinner.”
“Maybe dessert,” he said, voice dropping an octave. “But I promised I wouldn’t bite.”
You popped another piece of fruit into your mouth, chewed slowly, then said through a smirk, “What if I bite you instead?”
That pulled a rough laugh from his chest. “Yo ass play too damn much.”
“No,” you said, shifting to face him fully. “I think you like it when I do.”
He went very still. You could see the muscle in his jaw flex and the faint quiver at the corner of his mouth, the kind that meant he was this close to losing that distinguished vampire fortitude.
You leaned closer after placing the bowl on the table. His shining eyes followed every slow inch of your movement. When your mouth brushed the base of his throat, he let out a low, involuntary sound, half growl, half sigh.
“You really wanna test a nigga, huh?” he murmured.
“You said you won’t bite me,” you whispered back. “So what happens if I bite you?”
He laughed softly, though the sound came out a little shaky. “You think imma stop you?”
You caught his lower lip between your teeth, just hard enough to make him tense. The air between you changed; that faint, metallic note you’d come to recognize slid through the space.
“Damn,” he breathed, voice gone low. “You have no idea what that does to me.”
Oh, but you definitely did.
Your teeth grazed his skin again, this time at the curve where his neck met his shoulder. His hands tightened around your waist, just anchoring you there. He didn’t breathe for a long second.
“Stack?”
“I’m good,” he said quickly, voice shaking with restraint. “Just… keep doin’ whatever you’re doin’ while you sit on this dick.”
You giggled against his skin as you straddled him properly, the heat of his body contrasting with the unnatural cool that lingered beneath. It only took him three seconds to pull himself free from his sweatpants, already hard and aching. You hiked your skirt up and pushed your panties to the side before sinking on him. As always, the stretch stung so good.
Every small bite drew a different sound out of him—a sigh, a grunt, a low curse. Between your teeth scraping his skin and your pussy squeezing his dick he was closer and closer to losing all his composure. Still, he never once pulled away, just gripped your waist tighter.
“I like when you trust me,” you panted softly as you bounced a little harder.
“Ain’t all about trust,” he rasped, planting his feet against the rug as he bucked his hips, meeting your bounces. “It’s about how you make a nigga feel like I’m alive again.”
When your orgasm finally ripped through you, you sank your teeth into his shoulder, biting down harder than usual. He groaned deeply as he spilled inside you.
When you finally pulled back, there were teeth marks, deep and perfect against his skin.
“You’re bruisin’, baby,” you gasped curiously. Usually a mark or scratch never stayed longer than a few seconds before he healed supernaturally.
Stack brushed it with his fingertips, grinning like it didn’t even hurt. “Good. I want it to stay for a minute.”
“Why?”
“So I remember what it’s like to be human.”
The honesty in his voice made your throat tighten. You kissed his nose and then pressed a soft kiss over the bite. Already thinking of where you were going to bite him next.