𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Modern AU | Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Black!OC & Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore | Modern AU
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Things get a little heated between Smoke and Juicy…more than once. But it’s also kind of cute.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Mild sensual tension, soft dom undertones, food play(??), suggestive dialogue, light language. (let me know if I missed any!)
𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - this was honestly just something cute after all the love from my last chapter. If you guys keep it up with the feedback, trust, you’ll get more and more chapters out of me. ALSO, before you even start, this is heavily out of character. Halfway through, I realized this is more Stack coded and unless you’re nit-picky like me, it might not bother you. If you are, just close your eyes and imagine this is Smoke without all the trauma. I hope you guys enjoy! Sorry for the grammar mistakes and spelling errors!!
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5,966+
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˖°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢 | 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑
Ever since that day after the skating rink, ever since the kiss they shared on her porch, Juicy had been over the moon whenever it came to Elijah Moore. Simply seeing him made a huge smile appear on the girls face, and though they hadn’t really agreed on what they were, even talked about it really, they were less than subtle.
Their eyes met every time the other entered the room, with stares that said more than they knew. Their lingering touches went untied, but they each felt the connection that seared between them. Their laughs were shared as usual, but there was a softness behind them that wasn’t there before.
They were not different. They were still the same.
But now new feelings were in the mix and things had started to shift into something more. Something more longing. Something more…lustful.
It first started after a long day Juicy and Mary working during the hair salon rush, she and Smoke sit on the porch alone. Stack was on her couch, asleep after the meal she and Sinclair made, and Mary was at home, getting ready for a date. Juicy was tired, barefoot, her legs in his lap while she eats from a bowl of peaches she’d sliced earlier.
Smoke watches her, his thumb brushing over the soft skin of her ankle.
“Why are you eatin’ like that?” He asked, and his voice was a bit hoarse from not speaking for a while, and now that he did.
“Like what?” The girl questioned, just before she slurped an another peach slice into her mouth.
“Like you tryna drive me crazy, girl.” He responded, causing her face to heat up at his innuendo. She let out a small laugh, but her voice is breathier than she means.
Ever since their kiss, sly comments like that have been having more of an impact on her than before. At first, she’d simply blush with a small laugh as she tried not to let her mind race, but now, she had this primal urge to pounce on him whenever she saw him, and his words didn’t make it any better.
Feeling bold, she leans forward, with the objective to feed him one of her slices and maybe say something as suggestive in response. But, just like that, his face was in bed from hers. And the world seemed to still around them as her breath got caught in her throat.
She slowly raised her fork to his lips, the dripping fruit leaking into the bowl she held up under his chin. Her eyes flickered from his intense eyes that never left her, and the fruit hanging between them.
He didn’t open his mouth until the peach was rubbed against his plump lip, and Juicy wanted to clench his legs as she watched his long tongue peek out as he took the fruit into his mouth.
He was barely done chewing before they were both leaning in, their eyes closed. And when their lips touched,she couldn’t help but think that the peach tastes way better on his lips. It wasn’t until he his tongue graced her lips didn’t she pull back from the kiss, an overwhelming feeling taking over her.
But Smoke took it as something else. He simply nodded before speaking gently. “Whenever you ready.” He said, his large hands subconsciously rubbing at her leg.
And Juicy simply continued eating her peaches, though they seemed a little closer now. And that moment stayed between them, warm and glowing like the sun touching her skin.
And those moments became more bold as time went on. Tension rose, feelings peaked and moments lingered.
The overhead bell of the Crown & Glory Beauty Supply store jingled softly as Smoke pushed the glass door open. It was dead in the store—just the faint buzz of an old fan rattling from a corner and a box TV in the top corner playing 106 & Park on low. The air-conditioning was working overtime, but it still couldn’t keep up with the summer heat beating against the glass windows. It was hot outside—real hot—the kind of heat that made everybody move just a little slower.
Juicy was behind the counter, leaning over a fashion magazine with a chewed-up pen between her fingers, glasses low on her nose, lips glossed just enough to look edible. It was new, a sparkly peach color that had a bit of flavor. He’d know, he’d tasted it when she first bought it.
Her hair was up in a messy up do, a slightly puffy roller set that was in need of a redo by her standards, with two curls escaping at the front to frame her face. She wore her name on a gold necklace and a cherry red tank top that clung to every curve like a second skin. She looked up when she heard the door, and saw Smoke stepping inside, her whole expression shifted—eyes bright, mouth soft, body leaning back with that familiar little grin she always tried to bite back.
“You ain’t supposed to be here.” She said, but there was no real protest in her voice. Only that teasing lilt he had grown addicted to. “You might make me forget I’m on the clock.”
Smoke grinned and held up a white plastic bag with ‘Thank you’ plastered over the front. “What if I said I brought you lunch?”
Juicy’s stomach answered before she could, and she rolled her eyes, laughing as she grabbed her little purse from under the counter. “Let me tell Keisha I’m takin’ my lunch break before you turn me into a damn stereotype.” Smoke chuckled low as he watched her lean over the little half-door to call into the back. “Keish! I’m takin’ my lunch now. I’ll be back in thirty.”
“You got forty-five.” Keisha called back. “But only if you bring me a pineapple soda.”
Juicy didn’t answer, just gave Smoke a playful side-eye as she walked out from behind the counter and toward the door, hips swaying with nothing but pure temptation in her denim shorts. “Come on, Mr. Delivery Boy.” She said as she passed him, while Smoke watched her as she licked his lips.
The sun hit them hard the moment they stepped outside. Smoke held the door open to his cutlass for her, parked just under the shade of a half dead oak tree off center of the stores entrance. The inside smelled like Black Ice air freshener and a little bit like him, clean clothes, cologne, and something vaguely minty.
He slid into the drivers seat and handed her the paper bag before she’d even fully shuffled into her seat. She took it, eyes wide with creepy delight, already knowing what he’d gotten her. Smoke helped her take the food out, and held the white Styrofoam to-go plate like an offering. “Figured you’d forget to eat. Got you the ten piece lemon pepper from Dock’s.”
Juicy blinked, then her lips parted in a slow grin. “You got me the good fries?”
“Seasoned and crispy. Just how you like it.”
“Mmm.” She reached out for the plate and brushed his fingers as she took it, her nails freshly done in that glittery nude pink he noticed last night when they were tangled up on her bed whispering secrets into each other’s necks. “You’re spoiling me.” She said with a little smirk, already opening the box and letting the smell take her over. “You’re gonna make me expect this every shift.” She said as she grabbed a fork to pick her fries.
Smoke leaned back in his seat, his eyes taking her in without shame. “Maybe I like spoilin’ you.”
Juicy tried not to blush, but it came anyway, spreading warm and rosy across her cheeks. She sat back in the passenger seat and picked at the fries first, licking the Cajun salt from her fingertips like she didn’t know it was killing him slowly. Smoke leaned back and watched her pick at the wings, the smell of zesty spice thick in the car. She took one bite and hummed.
“I swear, this might be better than sex.” She said with a mother full.
He arched a brow, watching the way she licked her fingers. “Might?” He questioned.
She smirked and didn’t answer, reaching for a fry instead.
For a while, they sat in easy silence. The windows were cracked just enough to let the summer breeze tease its way in. Smoke tapped a beat against the steering wheel while Luther Vandross’s ‘Take You Out’ played low from the stereo.
They hadn’t exactly told any one of their…relationship, yet. That much was understood without it needing to be said. Not Mary, not Stack, and definitely not Martin, needed to know about why they had going on. It wasn’t out of shame—at least not for Juicy. It was protection. Privacy. It was not wanting to hear her brother’s mouth or deal with Mary’s need for graphic detail or the way girls in the neighborhood would start watching her.
Smoke didn’t push. He never did. He just kept showing up.
At the end of her shift last time, he’d been parked out front with the windows down and Aaliyah playing low, just waiting to walk her to her car. The time before that, they sat in the backseat of his Cutlass for thirty minutes saying goodbye with their mouths and not a single word. His hands had found the small of her back, the inside of her thigh, the curve of her neck. None of it was ever rushed. He was always asking for permission with touch alone.
Now, watching her eat, he had to stuff his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out.
“How long you got left?” He asked.
“’Til six. Bianca’s mom coming to drop off some things, and I gotta tag ‘em and put ‘em up front.” She took another bite from a wing, eyes fluttering as she chewed. “This so good. I should slap you.” She hummed.
“You wanna slap me?” He teased, leaning in just a bit. “What happened to all that lovin’ from the other night?”
Juicy’s eyes met his as she sipped from the stare of her cup, and for a moment, everything else went quiet. The radio, the passing car, even the hum of the air conditioning within the vehicle.
“You keep bringin’ me food and walkin’ me to my car like some gentleman, you can get some lovin’ alright.”She said softly, lips curving into a grin. “You gon’ mess around and make me soft, Smoke.” She pouted, faking annoyance with him.
“Maybe I want that.” Smoke said, his voice low, head tilted. “You already soft in all the right places.” He smirked, his head tilted as he looked her up and down.
Juicy didn’t know how to respond to that, she just looked at him for a long second. Her eyes were deep brown, like pools of warm syrup, and they narrowed just enough to let him know she was feeling it.
“Anyway.” She said, turning her eyes back to her plate. “You don’t gotta keep doing all this.”
Smoke leaned closer, his hand sliding across the center console to tap her wrist. “You don’t want me to?”
Juicy’s lips parted just enough to suck in a breath. “I didn’t say that.” She murmured.
He gave her a crooked smile, one that pulled slow and easy like honey off the spoon.
“Then hush and eat.”
She smiled like she couldn’t help herself. “You gon’ wait here until I’m off?” She asked, playing with a fry.
“Maybe.” He said before glancing at his gold watch. “Maybe I’ll wait outside. Or maybe I’ll go nap and come back. But I’ll be here.”
Juicy rolled her eyes, but it didn’t match the quiet joy stretching across her face. “You need to stop acting like we go together.” She said, letting her impulsive thoughts win as typed with him.
Smoke leaned closer, voice brushing her ear. “Oh, we don’t?” He questioned, already knowing what game the bratty girl was trying to play with him, so he decided to play a different one.
She paused, the bite of her fry halfway to her mouth. Her lips twitched again, this time with something softer—something unsure but open. “Boy, go on somewhere.” She whispered, turning her eyes away from him.
But he stayed right there. Watching her eat. Watching her smile. Watching her pretend like they weren’t already wrapped up in something they couldn’t name yet—but it was definitely felt.
“Oh, I can’t be on your space now?” He questioned, leaning a bit closer over the console, his eyes trailing her face. “This my car, I can be where I want.”
“You’re gonna smell my breath, Smoke, move.” Juicy said, leaning away from him a bit, just as he was trying to trial his lips closer to her.
He didn’t flinch. “So?”
“My breath probably smells. And that fruit punch ain’t made it no better.” She said, looking over at him, her hand over her mouth as if to block the smell from reaching him. Smoke simply started into her eyes, the only thing he could see over her hands. His eye bounced between hers as he leaned a little closer, voice dropping. “Still wanna taste it.”
Juicy’s whole body went still, the corner of her lips twitching like she was fighting something. She turned to face him fully, one leg tucked under her. “You are real bold today, huh?” She questioned, letting her hand drop.
Smoke leaned in more, his palm resting on the back of her seat, his eyes locked onto her mouth. “You been sneakin’ around with me in parking lots and empty rooms for how many days now?” He retorted. “It ain’t about being bold, baby.”
She didn’t answer, only nipped at her bottom lip.
“You lettin’ me touch all up on you, makin’ me wait just to kiss you again…”
“You already kissed me.” She said, soft as a confession.
“Yeah.” He said, his thumb now brushing against her jawline. “But it ain’t enough. Not when I think about it every time you walk away from me.”
Juicy’s eyes fluttered closed for a half-second, the tension so thick it hung in the car like fog.
She opened her eyes again, and they were darker now, shaded in lust and something tender. “I’m really feelin’ you, Smoke.” She murmured. “I just don’t want nobody in my business yet. Not my brother, not Mary, nobody. Not ‘til I know this is real.”
Smoke nodded slowly. “Then let me show you it is.”
He leaned in again—closer this time—and just before their lips met, she pulled back and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Wait, wait, wait.” She said, laughing softly. “I told you. My breath probably smells like lunch.”
Smoke smirked. “I told you. I don’t care.”
Then he kissed her.
Soft at first, warm and slow, like a question he already knew the answer to. Juicy melted into it, her hand slipping behind his neck, her lips parting without hesitation. He kissed her like he’d been waiting since the rink, since the last car meetup, since every sideways glance and half-second pause between them.
She sighed into him, her body turning so her knee brushed his thigh, and his hand slid down to her waist, tugging her closer. Her fries were forgotten on the dash, the radio hummed on, and somewhere in the distance, construction work buzzed—but all she could focus on was the way his fingers pressed into her hip, the heat of his mouth, the way he kissed her like she was his favorite food and he was starving.
By the time they pulled apart, her lip gloss was gone and her heart was racing.
Smoke looked at her, thumb brushing the side of her face like she was fragile, like he was still tasting her.
“Is that real enough for you, Juicy?”
She caught her breath, smirk tugging at her lips.
“It’s a start.” She said cheekily.
Smoke laughed, low and warm, already leaning in again.
And outside, the sun beat on the windows, heavy and golden, while Aaliyah’s voice floated from the tiny TV in the corner:
“Boy, I’ve been watching you like a hawk in the sky…”
The next time was about a week later, and they were sort of high off not seeing each other for a minute.
The house was quiet. The kind that came only when the day had finally exhaled. A low hum from the box fan in the corner of her room carried through the walls, but otherwise, silence blanketed the place like the thick heat outside.
Tyson was down for bed, knocked out cold after a long afternoon of playing with his toy dinosaurs, goldfish crackers, and singing Whitney Houston songs off-key around the house. Sinclair was out on a date with some boy guy, and Martin was God-knows-where, probably laid up with the flavor of the week. The house was Juicy’s for the night, and she’d planned to take full advantage of that.
She had just slipped into her favorite silk moomoo—champagne-pink and ultra soft, loose fitting but clinging in just the right places while letting everything else breathe. Her legs were smooth, freshly shaven and moisturized, and her roller set was tightly secured beneath a silk, butter-colored scarf. Her room smelled like bag champa incense and cocoa butter, a familiar blend of calm and comfort. The lights were dim, casting a warm amber glow from her bedside lamp. Juicy glanced at the clock. 10:46 p.m.
She was leaning over her nightstand, lighting a second stick of incense when a sharp tap-tap at the window made her jump.
Her heart stuttered.
Wide-eyed, she turned slowly, suspicious, hand hovering near her dresser drawer where she kept her little knife—just in case. Another knock followed, softer this time. She crept toward the window, staying low, her silk moomoo brushing against the floor as she moved. She peeked between the slats of her blinds and gasped.
Smoke.
Standing outside her window, straight faced, his stature intense as if he could see through the blinds. His gold chain glinted under the streetlight, and he lifted his hand in a slow wave, eyes locked on hers.
Juicy let out a tiny squeal, panicking. “Oh my God,” she whispered to herself, yanking the curtain closed.
Her room turned dark again, but her mind was racing. She spun around, clutching her moomoo. Why tonight? Why when she had her scarf on, her rollers showing through the wrap? She felt so exposed, caught mid-transformation. She wasn’t cute, she wasn’t ready.
She paced, muttering, “Why the hell would he come tonight? I look crazy…” She was in distress.
Then, from outside, his voice cut through the quiet.
“I’ve already seen you in your rollers.” He said, cool and calm, like he was talking with his lips pressed against her skin instead of standing on the other side of a pane of glass. “Open the window, Juicy.”
She froze. Could he hear me? She thought.
Her breath was caught in her throat, somewhere between embarrassment and excitement. Then, with a soft curse and a helpless little pout, she padded back over to the window and lifted it with a quiet creak. A second later, Smoke was climbing through like some bad-ass high school boyfriend in a ’80s movie. It seems easy and he seemed unbothered, like he’d done it a hundred times before.
His feet touched down on her carpet and his eyes immediately swept over her.
“Damn.” He said, voice a little lower now. “You always look good, but this right here? Yeah…this different.” He said, his tongue peeking out to trace over his bottom lip.
Juicy crossed her arms, suddenly shy. “Don’t start…” She warned.
“I’m serious.” He said, taking a slow step closer. “I don’t know why you hidin’ from me like I ain’t seen you in a bonnet before.”
“This ain’t no bonnet.” She said, fussing gently, cheeks warm. “This a roller set. Whole different level of ugly.”
He chuckled. “Ugly where?”
“You’re blind, Smoke.”
“Nah.” He said, taking her hand. “I see just fine.”
And that was all it took for her shoulders to drop a little, her nerves to settle into something soft and warm.
She turned from him to straighten her bed, trying to keep her hands busy. “And now what’s given you the gall to show up this time of night?”
“Ain’t nobody home but you and the baby.” He said, settling onto the edge of her bed. “And he sleep, ain’t he?”
“Yeah, but you know how Sinclair be. If she find out you was over here this late, she gon’ tell everybody and they mama.”
Smoke leaned back on his palms, his chain sliding against his chest. “Then I guess we better be quiet.”
Juicy turned slowly to face him, chin lifted in that defiant little way she always did when she was trying to keep herself from melting. “Smoke…” She trailed off, trying not to grin as she fluffed the pillow, avoiding his eyes. “I’m serious.”
“I missed you.” He said, voice dipping again as she changed the subject. And by the way he rushed it out, it’s been meaning to come off his tongue since he first laid eyes on her. “Been runnin’ all week, tryna get shit done with Stack. I been thinkin’ ‘bout you, though. How you sound.” He began, his hands trailing over to her, pulling her closer by the fabric of her gown. “How you taste.” His raised his hand to light grace over her lips, which were buttered in chapstick. “How you make them little sounds when I kiss on that spot right there…” He reached up and brushed his fingers gently along the side of her neck.
Juicy shivered, tucking her neck a bit. “You can’t keep doin’ this…” She mumbled with a small pout.
“Doin’ what?”
“Showin’ up late, and sayin’ stuff that makes me forget why I said you couldn’t come over in the first place.”
He grinned slowly, a look Juicy knew was dangerous. “Then don’t say I can’t come over.” He shrugged, as if it was such a simple solution.
She rolled her eyes but her smile gave her away. “You get on my nerves.”
Smoke stood and stepped toward her, closing the small gap between them. “Good.” He said, hands sliding to her waist. “Then you gon’ really hate this.”
He leaned in slow, lips almost brushing hers when she suddenly pulled back a little, nose scrunching up.
“Wait.” She whispered, laughing nervously. “I just brushed my teeth…”
Smoke paused, then smirked.
“And?”
“And that’s nasty!”
“I don’t care if your breath smell like hot dogs at a block party.” He said, lowering his voice. “I still want it.”
She let out a laugh, hand lightly pushing at his chest. “Oh, you’re nasty.”
Then he kissed her, something warm and deep. And just like that, they melted.
The kiss grew, slow but intense, their bodies pressing close, her silk moomoo whispering as it moved between them. It deepened naturally, his hands resting gently on her waist while hers slid around his neck. His hands roamed gently, not grabbing but holding onto her he was trying to memorize every curve. Juicy kissed him back, one hand curling around the back of his neck, the other resting softly on his chest.
The incense smoke curled around them.
His touch was slow, reverent, but had an unmistakable heat underneath them. When he backed her against the dresser, one hand sliding along the small of her back, she gasped softly, then caught her breath in his mouth.
Her silk moomoo slipped between his fingers like water.
The incense kept burning. Outside, the world kept spinning, but inside that room, it was just the two of them, quiet and tangled, while suspended in heat and candlelight. They stayed locked in that moment, breath against breath, a love they weren’t ready to explain yet.
Eventually, Juicy pulled away, breathing a little harder, her lips kiss-swollen, eyes heavy and breath barely above a whisper. “You better go.” She whispered. “I don’t stay too long. You know I gotta be up early.”
Smoke rested his forehead against hers. “I ain’t stayin’. Just needed to see you.”
She brushed her fingers across his cheek. “I know.”
Then he kissed her once more before he turned to the window. But before he left, he glanced back at her over his shoulder and grinned. “You look real good in that, you know. Like, a housewife or some, might have to get you another.”
Juicy couldn’t fight her grin as she grabbed her pillow and threw it at him, laughing softly. “Get out, boy.”
He caught it easily, flashed a smirk before he tossed it back at her, and disappeared out the window into the thick summer night. Leaving Juicy standing in her incense filled, candle lit room, heart thudding against her moomoo, smiling like a woman who had it bad.
And then there were the soft moments between them neither questioned.
Two days later, the sun hung high in the sky, casting golden light over the neighborhood as Juicy walked over to Stack and Smoke’s place with a plastic bag hanging from her hand. She held Missy’s peach cobbler mingling with the buttery scent of her famous pecan pie. Tucked beneath it were still-warm containers from Sinclair cooking—fried catfish, cabbage, and macaroni and cheese with a crunchy, golden crust.
Juicy had just planned to drop it off. She assumed both men were home—maybe out back playing dominoes or arguing over the game on TV. So she didn’t bother calling, didn’t reapply her lip gloss, didn’t even leave with the intention of staying long. She had plans with Mary, anyway, to get their nails done and gossip.
But inside of the More residence, the house was cool and still, carrying the faint scent of weed and linen spray. The blinds were turned just enough to let in slats of warm afternoon light, stretching across the hardwood like tiger stripes. It was one of the rare days Stack wasn’t home—off somewhere chasing money or women or both—and the place felt too quiet without his usual loud presence. Smoke didn’t liked it that way.
But there was nothing he could do about it, so he had just settled on the couch, a blunt half-rolled between his fingers, when a soft knock landed on the front door.
He knew that knock. And he was giddy about it before even getting up, though his face didn't really show it.
When he opened the door, there she was. His Juicy, dressed in a fitted white tank top and jeans that hugged her hips just right, gold earrings swaying gently with every movement and and her baby fat belly peeking out proudly, crowned by a ruby-studded belly ring that glinted in the sun. She held a little plastic grocery bag in her hand like she was just dropping something off, like she hadn't planned this.
When Juicy knocked, she expected Stack’s voice booming through the door or both of them calling out to her. But instead, it was Smoke who opened it—shirtless, as usual, his chain glinting in the light and his black durag still on.
“Oh.” She said, blinking.
His lips curved. “Oh?”
“I thought both y’all was here.”
“Nah. Stack out handling something. Just me,” he said, stepping aside and nodding her in. “Come on.”
She hesitated only for a second before stepping into the house. The cool air brushed against her skin, goosebumps rising as the scent of sandalwood and cologne hit her nose. Her skin was glistening from her coco butter later and smelled like brown sugar and his eyes trailed her figure as she walked by.
She set the bag on the kitchen counter and was already turning to leave when she felt him. His presence was close, his body blocking her path without even touching her.
“Where you going?” Smoke asked softly.
Juicy tilted her head, eyes narrowing, but her lips twitched. That voice of his. That low, patient, and just on the edge of coaxing voice, always meant trouble.
“I just came to drop these off.” She said, brushing invisible lint off her shirt. “Mary’s waitin’ on me. We supposed to go get our nails did.”
He didn’t move.
“I want you to fix me a plate.”
Juicy raised a brow. “You want me to fix you your plate?” She repeated, a bit take aback by his audacity.
“I’m hungry.” He said, voice deeper now, eyes still gentle. “Come on, Juicy.” He pleaded.
She let out a breathy laugh, not even bothering to hide her smile now. “Alright, damn. Let me wash my hands.”
In the kitchen, she moved like she’d done it a hundred times before. Opened the cabinets, found the plates without asking, scooped a fat helping of mac and cheese onto a plate, along with some catfish and added a side of cabbage, warmed it up in the microwave all while Smoke leaned against the fridge and watched her with something that looked dangerously close to adoration.
When the microwave dinged, she grabbed a fork, set it on the plate, and handed it to him.
But he didn’t take it.
Instead, he jutted his head before he turned and walked to the living room, flopping back onto the couch with the blunt now behind his ear, juicy following.
When juicy stood there, his plate and fork in her hands, Smoke looked back up at her and then patted the cushion next to him. Juicy narrowed her eyes. “Boy, if you don’t—”
“Come on, Juicy.” He said again, sweet and smooth and far too tempting.
She sighed, rolled her eyes, but made her way over and sat beside him, holding the plate out to him again. But Smoke simply looked over at her again, a rare playful glint in his eyes, and Juicy was rolling her eyes at him before he even opened his mouth.
“You ain’t gon’ feed me?” He asked.
“Boy, what?” She asked, scoffing softly, though her amusement was apparent as she held a small smile at him. Smoke snaked his lips, cutting his eyes at her. “Come on, Juicy.” He said, and his voice was soft but thick with something heavier. Something that sat right beneath the surface and made her heart skip just a little. She stared at him, lips parted, that nervous excitement fluttering in her chest when she noticed how…domesticated this felt and how soft it was. She could feel her body heat rise. He was shirtless, gold chain glinting, and close enough that she could count the lashes on his eyes.
“Okay.” She agreed before she broke a piece of the fish and brought it to his lips. He took it, slow, like he was tasting her fingers as much as the food. She rolled her eyes and fed him a bite of mac and cheese next. He let out a low groan of approval that sent heat curling up her spine.
“You gon’ spoil me.” He murmured between bites.
“Ain’t that what you want?” She asked, smirking.
He looked at her, eyes soft and unreadable. “I want you.”
She cut her eyes to him as she gather food onto the fork and held it in front of his mouth. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late.” And they sat down on the couch beside, and she feed him for a while, with the plate and fork in hand. The vibe had shifted into something playful to soft. The television played in the background, an episode of The Sparanos, humming low through the TV speakers.
She fed him fork after fork, laughing when he groaned dramatically at how good the food was, rolling his eyes and leaning back like he couldn’t take it. Juice wiped a bit of hot sauce from the corner of his mouth with her thumb and licked it away.
“You act like you ain’t never ate before.”
“I ain’t never ate like this.” He teased.
When the plate was clean, she started gathering it up, brushing crumbs off her lap. “Alright, I gotta go. Mary gon’ think I stood her up—”
“Hold up.” Smoke said, stretching. “I ain’t get dessert yet.”
“You want dessert?” The girl asked, a bit sassily as she placed her hands on her hip. “Yeah, I want something sweet.”
She rolled her eyes but was smiling too hard to pretend she meant it. “Fine. Pecan pie or cobbler?”
He pointed at her. “You pick.”
“That was the entrée. I want somethin’ sweet.”
She went to the kitchen and cut him a slice of Missy’s pecan pie. This time, she sat closer. Their thighs touched, as she fed him bite after bite while he kept his eyes on her, not the TV. Her fingers brushed his lips as she fed him, and he kissed the pad of her thumb when she wasn’t expecting it.
“Boy, don’t start.”
“I ain’t even done nothin’ yet.”
By the time the plate was clean, they were both smiling and too close. They laughed at something dumb on the screen and Juicy shook her head and almost dropped the fork when Smoke licked a bit of filling off her finger instead of letting her wipe it. “You a mess.” She murmured, but her tone was fond.
He took the plate and set it on the coffee table, then leaned forward, brushing his lips across her jaw before resting his forehead against hers. “Let me take you to Mary’s.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
So she gave in. Of course she did.
She climbed in his car, trying not to smile the whole time. He drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on her thigh, slow strokes up and down that kept her distracted the entire ride. The windows down and the radio humming some slow R&B track that made her cheeks warm.
They didn’t talk much—just let the cicadas hum outside and the warm summer breeze float through the cracked window.
When they pulled up in front of Mary’s, she started to unbuckle, but he caught her wrist.
“Hold on.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded stack of bills. She tried to protest, but he shook his head.
“Smoke—”
“Get somethin’ extra. Gel or whatever y’all get.”
“You know I don’t need your money.” She whispered.
“I know. But I want you lookin’ good for me. You not payin’ for your own nails and toes when I’m around. That’s mine now.”
She looked at him, lips parted, unsure whether to argue or melt.
“You always doin’ the most.” She muttered, cheeks hot. And he didn’t answer, he just leaned in and kissed her, deep and slow. It was soft and slow on the cheek, just behind the curve of her jaw, before it moved to her lips. A hand found the small of her back, and before she could fully process the moment, he took a handful of her denim covered bottom into his hand, causing Juicy to let out a small yelp into his mouth. When he pulled back, and she was on her way out of the car, he gave her a light smack her on the bottom as she stepped out of the car. “Go on now, Juicy.”
She stumbled out the car, heart racing, money clutched in her hand, cheeks redder than cherry polish. She let out a tiny squeal and grinned all the way up the walkway. She walked into Mary’s house still smiling.
Mary was in the living room, filing her nails. “What you grinnin’ for?”
Juicy simply let out a sigh, fluttering her eyes to make sure this was still real life. “Don’t worry about it.” She muttered, waving her off. But the grin didn’t fade. Not even a little.
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Reader telling Erik "I wanna have your baby please."
Erik fucking the Reader in the mirror and telling her, "Where you going? Take this dick!"
Erik secretly buying his girl stuff from her wishlist
The reader face-riding Erik and Erik holding the reader’s hips down and overstimulating her/ Erik telling the reader “lemme dig in that pussy one time”
Erik making eye contact with the reader while fingering her on his lap and the reader can’t take it
Erik being all soft and comforting to the reader while on a flight. She’s afraid of heights.
Erik begging plus size reader to sit that phat pussy on his face while he talks all nasty about her generous curves.
Reader avoiding Erik because he got rough with her after play fighting/having intense rough sex.
Reader attempting to break up with Erik.
Reader being intimate with Erik for the first time after being in an abusive relationship.
Reader playing hard to get with Erik.
Erik is the student and reader is the professor.
Erik giving his daughter the talk about her first period because her mom (reader) is away on a business trip
Erik’s groomsmen are panicking because his fiancé is at the door when the room is full of strippers
Reader working in retail dealing with a rude customer and Erik is a regular who steps in to put the customer in their place.
Readers long time crush, Erik Stevens, knocks on her door dressed as a pizza delivery stripper and he doesn’t realize he has the wrong address until it’s too late.
Thigh riding Erik.
Erik shaves the Reader.
Erik telling you how pretty that pussy is.
Erik helping the reader with morning sickness.
Erik getting the readers hair wet after she spent all day in the salon getting it done and she flips out on him.
Reader riding the fuck out of Erik’s dick.
Erik and Reader having a one night stand that WASN’T supposed to happen.
Erik being the reader’s bully when they were kids but that changed when he sees her in later years.
Erik and reader having sex for the first time since their baby
Erik and reader broke down in the middle of nowhere
The reader finding out she is pregnant so she tries to leave but Erik finds out anyway.
Erik finding out that T’Challa or M’baku being the readers first.
Drive in movie date with Erik.
Erik walking in on the reader masturbating and she tries to cover herself with embarrassment
The reader is nervous to bring Erik to meet her family because she takes care of her mom and a sibling with special needs.
Y/N having her cochlear implants turned on and hearing Erik’s voice for the first time.
Erik is a sub and Reader is a dom PART ONE
Erik is a sub and Reader is a dom PART TWO
Erik dating a girl with an old soul.
Reader saying in the middle of an argument, “I mean, look at me! why would Erik Stevens want to be with me?!”
Fun/humor sex with Erik.
Erik Jill Scott Imagine
The reader is a best selling author and her book is about all her past lovers (Erik is one of them)
The Reader is a virgin and Erik gives her oral turning her out/Erik dry humping The Reader playfully
Erik and Reader are best friends and Reader is the best freaky love PART ONE
Erik and Reader are best friends and Reader is the best freaky love PART TWO
Erik cuddling with Reader while she is on her period/having sex with Reader while she is on her period.
Reader is a high school art teacher and she is fucking Mr. Killmonger who is a history teacher.
Reader and Erik’s honeymoon.
M’Baku and Erik have the pleasure of sharing a woman
Reader and Erik take a bae-cation after Reader has her baby. She is having breast pains from breastfeeding so Erik suggests soothing her.
Erik nurturing reader after she found a lump in her breast.
Erik and his girl have a threesome with OC
The Reader and Erik’s friends are trying to set them both up on a blind date but the catch is…they’re already dating.
Erik and Reader have a 16 year old daughter who starts being disrespectful towards them PART ONE
Erik and Reader have a 16 year old daughter who starts being disrespectful towards them PART TWO
Erik and Reader haven't had sex in a while because of Reader's insecurities
Erik is into a lot of verbal talk during sex but his girl is too shy and embarrassed to do it so she moans instead.
Erik and Reader are in a Dom/Sub relationship where everyone knows, the Reader is being bratty and Erik punishes her in front of their friends but Reader has a Voyeurism kink and that was her plan.
Erik always rubbing the readers belly, because she loves it more than she does.
Erik asking plus size Reader out on a date for the first time.
Erik calls Reader while she's at work and he hears one of her male coworkers in the background.
Dominant Erik sees his ex gf at a pool party
Erik teaching his daughter to love her dark skin.
How would Erik react to his girl twerking in front of his face to annoy him ?
It's Erik's birthday and his girl suprises him
Assassin Erik and his girl London make up for lost time
Massage Therapist Erik
Supermarket run with the kids and a guy starts talking to you and making you laugh. Your husband, Erik, finds out about it.
Erik reminiscing on the time he had some good wet pussy from a plus size baddie. Based off of Cardi B saying how fat girls have the best pussy.
Erik walks in on his homeboys sister stepping out of the shower and she is embarrassed/ has a huge crush on him PART ONE
Erik walks in on his homeboys sister stepping out of the shower and she is embarrassed/ has a huge crush on him PART TWO
Erik convinces his girl he can make her cum multiple times ONE
Erik convinces his girl he can make her cum multiple times TWO
Erik has a foot fetish
Erik's girl gets drunk and starts flirting with other men. Erik has to teach her a lesson
Erik deep-throating his girl
OC is shy and a virgin and Erik makes her his sub
The Reader is nervous to tell Erik she is bi ONE
The Reader is nervous to tell Erik she is bi TWO
Erik and his polynesian/black bestie take things to another level
Erik watches his landlords child and afterwards wants to practice making a little bundle of joy himrself with Reader
Erik has a new girl who has a baby prior to dating him and they become one big happy family.
Erik is uncircumcised and it’s the Readers first time being with a man who is uncircumcised. Erik shows her what to do/ how to please him.
you've probably been asked this a million times but how do you write smut like with the wording and everything
Honestly, I just write what I see and what I’d feel. I focus on the tension, the reactions, and what makes the moment hot to me. I don’t overthink the words just try to be clear, vivid, and stay in the character’s body.
Okay so it’s part instinct, part practice. I start by thinking about what turns me on or what fits the characters in the moment. I write smut like it’s a scene in a movie I can feel in my chest, not just something visual. I focus on the build-up: the tension, looks, breath, hesitation, body language. Because that’s what makes it hot. Then I get specific: how does it feel? What do they say? How do they react? I try to stay in their heads and their bodies. I don’t try to be ‘pretty’ with it either I write how it would go down.
Also, I switch up sentence length, avoid cringe words (we all got a list lol), and I edit after the first pass. Some lines sound hotter when you come back to them. And honestly? Reading a lot helps too. You develop your voice and learn what hits.
For those who haven't read the original script, please read it for yourself and form your own thoughts and opinions. You may perceive it differently. However, when you read, at least you know why YOU don't like or do like something. I say this because some people do become emotional when it come to their favs or their love for something. So don't read comments if you aren't ready to read different thoughts or opinions. They may or may not trigger you, so don't do that to yourself if you are not ready to engage in the conversations. Just take a breather. Also, understand script changes are normal, and sometimes it changes once the actors start to work because they may bring something new to characters, and that can change the directors mind. Also, there are story boards and backstories that also add more depth and nuance to the storytelling. So, a script may not give you the whole picture. This is why we have art directors/ creative directors and etc. In the end, Sinners was/ still a great movie and deserved the recognition it's getting, at least in my opinion. I wish the actors & actresses in Sinners a good awards season and hopefully more beautiful projects in the future.❤️
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izzy806
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