#RJ+OC | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jazziejax · 26 days ago

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𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Terry Richmond x Black!OC, David Cliff x Black!OC, Jim Beckwourth x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Things take a turn for the worst when the Nat Love hangs rolls into Sugar Cane Creek, just to discover that things ain’t as sweet as they seem.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - blood, shooting, screaming, cursing, flirting, references to weight, late 1800’s….women in pants, cowboys. Let me know if I missed anything!

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - ….I don’t have to explain myself to your, this was purely self indulgent and yall don’t like RJ Cyler enough for me anyways 🙄 UNEDITED, sorry for any spelling errors and grammar mistakes!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 10,187+

Sugar Cane Creek stood out against the dark wilderness surrounding it, its colorful buildings painted in deep blues, warm yellows, and rich reds, a stark contrast to the dust that settled over everything in sight. The infamous town thrived despite its location and always has. A hub of trade, gambling, and entertainment that attracted all kinds—some good, some bad, and some that danced on the razor’s edge between the two.

As the Nat Love Gang rode in, the streets had quieted for the night, save for a few stragglers loitering outside gambling halls. The men rode in on their horses, eyed by the drunkenly swaying few under the glow of lantern lights and the rising moon. Watchful eyes followed the gang as they passed, some curious, some wary, and the seldom flirtatious wave from young girls eyeing the slick crusaders that were Jim Beckwourth and David Cliff. They weren’t the first group of dangerous men to ride through this town—and they wouldn’t be the last. But who’s to say those dangerous men ever made it out?

At first, the gang stopped at The Velvet Spur, the finest hotel in the town, its golden trim reflecting the flickering lamplights hung outside. The place was directly across from the bustling casino, a smart business move. They could practically hear as dice rolled, cards shuffled, and fortunes changed in an instant. The music was loud and thumping as the people inside cheered.

Nat led the way inside, followed closely by Jim and David while Bill and Terry kept watch outside. The old clerk behind the desk barely looked up over his specs from the newspaper he read before shaking his head.

“Ain’t got no rooms left,” He grumbled.

The three men stepped at how quickly they were turned down, causing Nat to blink and then look at the two men next to him. Jim, being the playful young man that he was, took his hat off and held his hand up at Nat, telling him to wait. He then stepped forward, coming closer to the clerks desk. He leaned against the counter, flashing one of his disarming grins. “Now, see, that’s a shame, sir. We rode in all this way—”

“No rooms.” The man repeated, unmoved.

“Well, you ain’t even check the book. How are you so sure there ain’t no more rooms if you ain’t even checked the book?” Jim asked, dropping the nice boy act as he gestured to the resident book that sat next to the man, closed. The older man sighed, finally looking up from his reading and at the young man. “I think I would know if the rooms were full or not, young buck. I work here.”

“Yeah, but you are lookin’ a lil, not so young. You could be mistaken—.” Jim continued before being cut off by Nat.

“That’s alright.” He said, cutting the boy off before he could make their situation worse, watching as the old man’s face turned sour at Jim’s words. “Thank you, sir.” He said, offering the clerk a forced polite smile.

David sighed, adjusting his hat on his head. “Guess that means we’re sleeping under the stars again.” He said with a shake of his head. Jim placed his hat back on his head, giving the old man a nasty once over with his signature cinnamon stick in his mouth, before trying around to face his people. Just as they turned to leave, a young worker was rushing from the back, shrugging on his coat. “I could help ya.” He said, catching their attention.” Overhearing their predicament. The men all turned to face him, the young man coming forward as he adjusted his coat.

“They got rooms at The Sweet Tooth.” He said, hitching his thumb toward the door. “It’s a saloon, but they keep a few beds upstairs. In the rooms. Real good insulation too can barely hear a thang downstairs.” He said with a grin.

It was silent for a moment, the three outlaws eyeing the strangely eager young man. The old clerk just looked between them, wanting nothing more than for the strangers and his off-the-clock coworker to leave so he like read in peace. Jim then looked back at Nat, who eyed him before he gave a single nod.

“Lead the way, then,” Nat said, the trio watching as he walked ahead of them to see the other two men waiting outside next to their horses. “I’m Clarance, by the way.” He told them, giving a polite nod to the men who eyed him by the horses, untrusting. None of them said anything in response to his introduction, simply following him across the dirt path to the saloon, the moon casting a pale glow over the bustling town.

Laughter and music spilled from the establishment, mixing with the occasional distant crack of a pistol—warnings, celebrations, or something in between.

The Sweet Tooth stood at the heart of it all of the town, smack in the middle on the right side. Its name glowed in golden letters above the entrance, the flickering lanterns giving it a warm, inviting haze. It was alive with music and laughter, a stark contrast to the quiet outside. The smell of whiskey, tobacco, and the faint scent of something sweet hung in the air, mixing with the heat of too many bodies packed into one space. The place was packed, as expected, the heavy scent of whiskey and perfume wafting through the open doors. It wasn’t the downright fanciest establishment in town, but it had its charm—polished wood, golden trim, and deep red curtains that framed a small stage where a woman in a fitted blue dress crooned a slow melody.

The young worker turned to face the gang, standing before the saloon doors with an eager nod. “Go on in. Cotton’s got rooms for folks like y’all.”

“Folks like us?” Terry asked, his light-colored eyes striking as he raised a brow, stepping past him.

Clearance grinned. “Roughriders. Outlaws. Gunmen. All kinds.” He shrugged. “She don't much care, long as you got the coin and ain’t too much trouble.”

Nat glanced at David and Jim before nodding for them to enter. They barely made it past the entrance before they were flanked by two burly men and a woman in between them. “Well, well, don’t reckon I’ve seen y’all ‘round here before. Stayin’ or goin’?” She asked, her southern twang filled with nothing but sugar as she looked between them with her big brown eyes. Her smile as inviting as the warm glow of the lanterns inside. Jim and David stepped forward a little, eyes set on the woman while the other men admired from behind. They almost got shoved back by the men at her side, who they eyed threateningly before looking back at the beautiful woman. “We’ll be staying’ for the night. Though I’d rather stay whenever you are.” Jim flirted, not hiding the way he checked the woman out.

“And what might your name be?” David smirked.

The woman just grinned at them, becoming even more beautiful in the men’s eyes. “The names’ Suga. Come on in.” She said, nodding at them to enter before walking away. The group of five men tried to make their way in, before being stopped by the large men again. Suga rushed back, a smile on her face as one of the men grabbed a big chest. “Sorry, forgot to say weapons go the case.” She said. “Not taking them or nothin’, they’ll be up in your room for you to grab after you pay. Just don’t want no trouble.” She explained before looking the closest one, who happened to be Jim, up and down, a certain glint in her eye. A glint Jim caught with a smirk. She then glanced at the rest of the group of handsome men. “And you gentlemen look like trouble.” She said before walking away again. “And I trust you’ll put them all away.”

The men put all of their weapons in the case, watching as the large man closed it before walking away with the case. Jim was the first in motion, following behind where he saw Suga go, the girl leading the men over to a table near the bar.

“Now I know you fine gentlemen are probably tired from your long way here but I gots to find my sister Cotton in order to get you your rooms.” She explained, standing before them as they all situated themselves into chairs. “Settle in for a bit, enjoy the atmosphere, get a few drinks and I’ll be right back, ‘alright?” She said, offering them a sweet smile before turning on her heel. Her long curls whipped behind her. She didn’t wait for a response from them before her attention was on the bar. “Honey, drinks at table 3! And where the hell is Cotton?!” The girl yelled, not even stopping to gain any form of response from the woman behind the bar. Said woman, Honey, simply stopped wiping the bar countertop and watched Suga disappear into the back before then looking over at table three, where the group of men sat.

She let out a small sigh before grabbing a small notepad and the pencil from behind her head, moving from behind the bar through the small door and over to the table only a few feet away. “What can I help you gentlemen to?” She asked them, her tone a little uninterested as she chewed on the end of a toothpick. She was a stunning woman as well, resembling Suga just a bit. Her skin was lighter, her grin was large, her eyes naturally low and her face was sort of long.

The gang took in Honey’s cool, effortless demeanor as she stood before them, pencil tapping against her notepad. She was beautiful, no doubt, but unlike Suga’s flirtatious charm, Honey carried herself with a calmer demeanor, like a woman who had the patience of a monk. Since she was a bartender, having to constantly deal with drunk men and bar fights, probably.

Jim, never one to pass up an opportunity to lay on the charm, leaned forward with a smirk, resting his forearm on the table. “Well now, Honey, I’d say we’ll take whatever you recommend.”

Honey’s expression didn’t change drastically, the woman simply bling at him. But the corner of her mouth twitched like she was holding back a laugh while her eyes squinted a little as she looked down at the attractive man. “Whiskey, gin, or bourbon?” She questioned with a quirk of her brow, chewing her toothpick.

David chuckled under his breath, exchanging a glance with Jim before turning back to the woman. “Whiskey. And whatever you like.” He grinned, taking his hat off and placing it on the table.

Honey raised a brow at him, then scribbled down the order. “I like Vodka. Some you ain’t ever had.” She turned on her heel without another word, leaving the men to watch her go, amusement dancing in their eyes as she swayed away.

Terry leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as he glanced around the room. “Place got some charm, I’ll give it that.” He stated, his eyes alert and ears open as he took in the vibrant place. His eyes kept going back to the stage, where the live band played, women dancing seductively while getting whistled and catcalled.

Bill, who had been quietly observing, gave a slow nod. “Ain’t too often you see a place like this run by women.”

Nat hummed in agreement, eyes scanning the room. “Means they’re either real good at what they do… or real dangerous.”

The saloon fell into a hushed lull the moment they heard the sound of thumping. The men all looked around in confusion and on edge before their eyes drifted to the stage, watching as a woman flanked by two other women walked onto the stage.

A rounder woman stood at the center of the small stage, her brown skin glowing under the dim lantern lights. Her curls were pinned up with only a few strands loose, framing her face. She was dressed in a fitted, off-the-shoulder gown, the color a deep blue and she swayed as she sang, her voice filling the saloon with raw emotion.

“Break them chains and shackles,

Ain’t no man gon’ hold me down…”

The crowd was captivated, hanging onto every note. Some clapped along, others lifted their glasses in admiration, and a few swayed, lost in the song’s spell.

The rhythmic thumping continued, echoing through the saloon like a heartbeat. It wasn’t just the sound of boots against wood—it was deliberate, steady, almost ceremonial. The two women flanking the singer clapped their hands in time, their movements graceful yet firm, adding to the weight of the moment.

“Storm may come, but I won’t tremble,

Gonna walk on free somehow…”

The entire saloon seemed to be under her spell. Even the most hardened outlaws and whiskey-soaked gamblers paused their games, their attention drawn to the woman commanding the room with nothing but her voice.

“Go on, Fluffy!” Someone called from the crowd, a man tapping his boot against the wooden floor in rhythm with her voice.

The men couldn’t deny the effect of her heavenly voice, captivating their attention as well, moving spirits they each thought they lost long ago. Nat’s fingers drummed lightly against the table, his expression unreadable. While David, Jim, and even Bill and Terry leaned forward in interest, watching the curvy woman. Drawn in by both the music and the presence of the women on stage.

David watched, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “Now that is a voice.” He murmured, his admiration clear as he looked the woman up and down, her size and closet making her chest pop in a whole new way.

Terry nodded in agreement, eyes locked on, as the crowd called her, Fluffy. “Yeah… and a whole lot more.” He added, ignoring the way his companions all eyed him at his out-of-character statement.

Fluffy’s voice soared into the final verse, and for a moment, the entire saloon seemed to hold its breath. Even those deep in their drinks or their poker games turned to watch her, drawn in by the depth of her voice, the weight of her song. As she finished, the room erupted into cheers and applause. Fluffy beamed, taking a small bow before stepping back from the mic. The band behind her kept playing, transitioning into a livelier tune, but all eyes were still on her as she made her way down from the stage.

Honey eyed them all as she made her way back over with their drinks on a tray, following their eyes to her sister who mingled with the band. Still chewing on her toothpick, she smirked at the obvious intrigue they all showed. “Yeah, Fluffy tends to have that effect on people.” She said, catching all of their attention. “But careful now. She might sing sweet, but she’s got more bite than bark. Girls’ mouth is foul.” She told them as she sat the drinks at the table.

“I can handle that.” Jim scoffed, causing the woman to raise a brow at the back of his head since none of the women took their eyes off Fluffy. Well, not Nat and Bill, who eyed the woman giving them drinks. “Okay, hotshot. Go for it.” She scoffed at him, amusement clear in the small grin she held. And Jim, ever the opportunist, wasted no time in standing when Fluffy made her way over to the bar. “That was real nice.” He called out, his signature smirk in place once he caught her attention. “Real nice.”

Fluffy’s eyes landed on him, slowing down her trek only slightly as she made her way to the bar, and for a moment, her expression was unreadable. Then, slowly, her smirk matched his. “That right?” She called back, tilting her head at him.

“Sure is.” Jim drawled, tipping his hat. “Got a voice that could make a man rethink all his sins.”

Fluffy let out a soft chuckle, grabbing the closest drink in sight, that she was lucky to be the water Homey sat out prior, and then backed away from the counter with effortless grace. “And you look like a man with plenty of ‘em.” She told him, placing her hands on her hips.

David nearly choked on his drink, while Terry and Billie tried to hide their amusement by holding their heads down. Even Nat cracked a small smile.

Jim placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. “Now that ain’t fair. That ain’t fair at all. You don’t even know me yet.” He said, a fake pout on his lips, his cinnamon stick still sticking out his plump lips.

Fluffy, now standing just a few feet away, raised a brow. “Yet? How ‘bout not at all, scrub.” She said, then turning on her heel and walking away from him. David and Terry choked on their laughs while Jim gaped at the woman.

Honey, who had made her way over to the bar as they talked, was now standing behind the bar. She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “What’d I tell ya?” She said before letting out a small laugh and going back to fix more drinks.

Suga then came back from the back and looked a tad agitated with her hands on her hips. “Can’t find Cotton’s behind nowhere. That girl is never in the spot you leave her in.” She grumbled to Honey she came a stole at the bar. The bartender just cleaned cups, looking at her sister with a call face.

“What’d you need Cotton for?” She asked.

“I needed her to check these men in for a room tonight. She’s the one who always does it.” Suga stated.

“And why can’t you do it?” Honey asked, her tone annoyingly calm for the younger girl's liking, causing Suag to squint her eyes at the woman. “Cause I ain’t done it before.” She said firmly.

“Why don’t you just try?”

“Why don’t you just try, huh? Since it’s oh, so, damn easy. It ain’t that simple, Heidi.” Suga spat, slamming her hands down on the counter a tad. That caused Honey to arch a brow at her, eyes turning stern. “Watch your tone, youngin’. Before I douse you in alcohol and throw you in the fire pit.” She said, pointing a finger at the girl. Suga just groaned, bringing out her youngest sister's attitude with the second oldest. She looked at her sister, unbeknownst, or not caring, to the group of men who subtly listened in now and then to their conversation.

“Can you just come help me? Just this once?” She begged. Honey sighed, setting down the cup she had been cleaning and shaking her head as she slapped the rag onto the counter. “Lord, you’re helpless.”

Suga huffed. “I ain’t helpless, I just ain’t done it before!”

Honey just rolled her eyes. “Alright, fine. But you best pay attention, ‘cause I ain’t gon’ be doin’ this for you every time. This caused Suga to beam, grabbing Honey’s wrist and pulling her from behind the bar. The older sister shook her head but let her drag her along, her boots clicking against the worn wooden floors as they made their way toward the check-in area. Honey grabbed the book from the desk before moving back over to the group of men. “Follow me, get y'all settled in.” She said, offering them a polite smile as she nodded her head elsewhere. “Y’all got horses?” Honey asked, looking back at them.

Nat nodded.

She motioned for them to follow. “Come on, then. Stables are out back.”

The night had settled into a steady hum—distant music from the saloon, laughter from the streets, the occasional hoot of an owl. They walked the horses from across the road to the back of the saloon, the stables a good distance from the bar. The Sweet Tooth’s lanterns cast a golden glow over the dirt road as they made their way to the back, where the modest stable stood. The scent of hay and leather mixed with the lingering perfume of the saloon. The horses snorted softly as the men led them into the stables, their hooves thudding against the wooden floor.

Honey moved with practiced ease, unlatching the stable doors and gesturing for them to bring the horses in. “Y’all take that side.” She instructed, pulling her sleeves up. “Ain’t got no stable boys this late, so if you want ‘em fed and brushed, best get to it.” She stated, waiting for the men to lead their horses into the extra rooms available for them.

The men stood there for a moment, only sharing a glance before Honey crossed her arms, watching them with an amused tilt of her head. “Y’all ever put up your own horses before, or you just let the stable boys do it for ya?” She mused, a smirk playing on her lips.

Jim, always the first to have something to say, scoffed as he led his horse inside. “Course we know how to put up our own damn horses. Just ain’t used to bein’ told to do it by a lady.” He stated, shrugging as if it was some simple thought as he looked over at her, still chewing on that same stick of cinnamon. The men, one by one, eased their trusted animals into the available resting spot for the night.

Honey let out a short laugh. “Well, ain’t that a shame? Guess y’all better get used to it ‘round here.” She said, causing Suga to grin as she watched the men put the animals away. David chuckled under his breath, watching as Jim rolled his eyes but got to work. Nat, ever the quiet observer, led his own horse inside without a word, his sharp eyes noting the ease with which Honey moved.

“You run this place, then?” He spoke up and asked, his voice low and even but ever curious.

Honey glanced over at him as she softly kicked a bale of hay next to one of the stalls, mentally reminding herself to move it if Cotton didn’t. “Nah. That’s Cotton’s job. But between me and Suga, we do our best to make sure it don’t fall apart.”

Terry, brushed down his horse with steady strokes from a spare brush he picked up, looking over at her with a small smirk. “And where exactly is this Cotton?”

Honey sighed, pushing the stray curls from her halo braid from her face. “That’s the million-dollar question, ain’t it?” She grinned and then looked toward the saloon as if expecting Cotton to materialize. “Girl’s like a ghost when she wanna be.”

Before she could be questioned further, Jim spoke up, grinning loudly in the dead of night within the hollow stable. “Don’t think I ever had to work for a bed before.” Jim sighed, shaking his head as he ran a hand down his horse’s neck.

Honey grinned, catching his words as she leaned against one of the stable doors. “Ain’t too used to takin’ orders from women either. Well, welcome to Sugar Cane Creek.” She said.

They were just finishing up when the sharp clang of metal rang out, followed by the scrape of buckets rolling across the dirt. “Who’s supposed to be watchin’ the bar and servin’ drinks if you two are back here?” Instinct kicked in—the men straightened, hands twitching toward holsters that weren’t there. Suga and Honey quickly turned from where they stood, Suga opened one of the stable doors to cover her vulnerable sun was shots were fired while Honey gripped the gun hidden in the back of her dress, her tucked shirt riding up.

A figure stood at the entrance to the stable, framed by the lantern light and the shadows of the night. It was a woman, dressed in fitted brown trousers, a crisp white blouse, and a matching leather vest. A hat sat atop her head, casting a slight shadow over her striking features. Her stance was confident, hands were perched on her hips, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. She stepped further into the stables, showing how a single brow arched high as she looked between Suga and Honey expectantly. The lantern light cast a golden glow over her smooth brown skin, and though her stance was firm, there was a hint of amusement in her sharp gaze.

Suga’s slight pains turned into familiarity, a bright smile appearing on her typically bubbly face. “Well, look who finally decided to show up.

“Yeah, you know this place don’t run well without you, Cotton.” Honey teased.

The woman scoffed, crossing her arms. “Don’t play with me, Suga and Honey. You know damn well I was tendin’ to the ranch at Mama’s. Now who’s keepin’ the Sweet Tooth runnin’ while y’all out here flirtin’ and playing table hands?”Her voice was smooth yet firm, carrying over the stableyard like a whip crack. There was something different about her compared to her sisters—less sugar, more steel.

Honey sighed. “Ain’t nobody playin’.” She said.

“And ain’t nobody flirtin’,” Suga added, glancing over at the men. “We’re just settlin’ these gentlemen in.”

At the mention of gentlemen, the woman’s gaze flicked toward the group, scanning them with a quick, practiced sweep. And then let out a dry chuckle, shifting her weight onto one hip. “Oh, really? ‘Cause from what I see, you got a whole mess of men out here playin’ stable boy while the saloon runs damn near itself.”

Jim, never one to miss an opportunity, stepped forward with an easy grin. “Now, I wouldn’t say we’re playin’, miss. Just followin’ orders.” His voice was all honeyed charm, his grin even more so.

The woman arched a brow, unimpressed. “That right?” She turned her gaze to Honey, who merely shrugged. “They needed a place to sleep. No stable boys this late. Seemed only fair they work for it.”

David stepped forward, sensing this was the infamous name they’d been hearing all night. “That you, Miss Cotton?” He asked curiously, eyeing the woman up and down from the stable she stood directly next to, causing her to turn her head and look him up and down. She then met his gaze without hesitation. “Depends. Who’s askin’?” She questioned, quirking a brow at him

Jim, never one to pass up a chance to charm, took a step forward with his best smile. “Jim Beckwourth, at your service.” He gave a small bow as he took his hat off his head. “And might I just say, Miss Cotton, you wear them trousers better than any man I’ve ever seen.”

Cotton only let pout a faux amused hum as she tilted her head at him. “I’m sure you say that to every woman in pants, Mr.Beckworth.”

“I don’t,” Jim replied smoothly. “Only the ones that take my breath away.”

Suga snorted behind her hand while Honey rolled her eyes. “Good Lord.” She scoffed. Cotton, however, remained unimpressed, though there was the slightest twitch at the corner of her eyes as she sized the man up. She then stepped closer, looking Jim up and down with a slow, deliberate gaze before nodding once.

“Hm. That so?” She drawled, before reaching out and tapping the brim of his hat with a single finger. “Well, Mr. Beckwourth, I reckon you best hold onto that breath of yours. You’re gonna need it if you plan on keepin’ up ‘round here.”

Jim’s grin widened. “That a challenge?”

“It’s a fact,” Cotton stated firmly with a smirk. She then hummed a small tune, tapping a finger against her arm as she glanced around at the scene—half-groomed horses, saddles still slung over posts, and a handful of outlaws looking more amused than weary. “Hmph. Well, I’ll take it from here, dear sisters.” She said, walking over to her sinking and taking the reservation book from Honey’s hands. “Thank you, Heidi, Susanna.” She said, a fake smile on her face as she looked between them while the men’s eyes widened some at the revelation of them all being related.

Honey rolled her eyes at the use of her full name. “Don’t start, Cotton.”

Cotton, now properly named, let out a scoff as she shook her head. “Already did.” Then, with a nod toward the men, she tipped her hat. “Let’s go get you brothas settled in properly, shall we?” She said, nodding over to the saloon before she turned on her heel, leading the way back inside and expecting them to follow.

Suga let out a low whistle as the group watched the woman walk away, staying to help the men finish putting the animals up before following after Cotton. “She always knew how to make an entrance.” She said, placing her hands on her hips as her dress swayed in the nightly breeze, more so speaking to her sister next to her, but Jim chimed in from behind the pair as the group followed the woman back in.

“Can’t say I mind it all too much.” He said his grin still in place. David, who had been quietly observing the exchange, let out a small chuckle. “Think we know why she’s the one actually runnin’ things ‘round here.”

Honey scoffed at them, flashing a quick look behind her, but she didn’t deny it. “Y’all done gawkin’ or you need a few more minutes?” She asked, speaking to the main paper that seemed to be on one all night.

Jim continued to smirk, twisting the flavorful fired plant in his mouth. “Guess that depends. You got more sisters hidin’ ‘round here?” He asked, quirking a brow at her. Honey simply narrowed her eyes at him before turning away from them again. “Stable’s done for now. Y’all can come inside if you know how to behave.” She said, eyeing the younger pair of men behind her before opening the doors back into the establishment. Suga snorted, nudging her sister on her way in as they all followed her back into the saloon. “That’s a big if.”

The women led them over to the bar, where Cotton was behind the counter, second a few drinks. She looked up at the movement in her peripheral, catching the group enter. She slid a drink down the counter to a waiting man before setting the dish rag down and then grabbing the reservations book, walking from behind the counter.

She moved with an air of authority, her hat now gone to show her long white patch of hair at the front of her hair. It was divided into two sections down the middle and going down either side of her face into the two long braids she had going down her back. The unique silver color for a woman her age was setting her apart as much as the tailored vest and trousers she wore instead of a dress. She had a gun strapped to her hip, and two holstered to her back, but it wasn’t just for show—every man in that saloon could see it.

She stopped just a few steps from the table, one hand resting on her hip as she took them all in, her dark eyes sharp and assessing. “How many rooms yall need?”

“Five,” Nat answered. “Just for the night.”

Cotton clicked her tongue, glancing toward the book she held before looking back up at them. “Ain’t got five rooms, but I got three. Two of y’all will have to share.” She stated, her tone leaving no room for disagreement.

Jim and David immediately turned to look at each other, their expressions mirroring the same silent conversation—not it.

“I’ll bunk with Bill,” Terry offered softly, to which Bill simply nodded. Cotton gave a satisfied nod. “Payment’s due upfront. No exceptions. 25 cents a night. She stated. Nat pulled a small pouch from his coat, dropping it onto the table. Cotton took it without hesitation, weighing it in her hand before tucking it away. “Rooms are upstairs. Suga’ll show you to ‘em.” She said. She stared at them for a moment, her flickering over all of them before offering her first smile since she’d met them.

“Enjoy your stay in Sugar Cane Creek, boys.” She smiled. “And just watch yourself with the women in this here establishment. Don’t want to start no trouble where there don’t need to be nun’.” She stated, her smile turning tense before disappearing right before their eyes. “And I don’t quite have the patience for that.” She sneered.

Jim placed a hand over his heart, feigning innocence. “Trouble? Us? Never.” He said, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. Cotton, however, wasn’t amused. She just blinked at them. “Y’all keep yourselves in line.” She murmured before turning on her heel to face the two women behind her.

“And you doves can get back to work. This ain’t no social hour.” She said.

Suga rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, ma’am.” She said as she watched her oldest sister walk away, leaving her to get the men settled in.

“Now that’s a woman,” Jim stated firmly. “I think I’m in love.” He said, watching Cotton walk away from them. David leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose, his eyes on the woman as well. “I like this place.”

Terry simply sighed. “You think that every time you meet a woman with a sharp tongue and a pretty face.”

Jim just chuckled, clearly unbothered. “Yeah, but this time, I really mean it.”Nat just chuckled, shaking his head. It was going to be an interesting night.

They all stood from their seats, downing the last of their drinks and following the young woman up the stairs. She led the men up across the room, the beginning of the steps near the stage. The stairs were large and sort of grand for just a saloon, but The Sweet Tooth was different to begin with, starting out with how big it was.

The wood did creak under their weight, however, Suga’s purple dress swaying with each step as she jingled the keys in her hand, drawing the attention of the group of men behind her, almost putting them in a trance.

“Alright, gentlemen, listen up.” She called over her shoulder as they reached the second floor. The hall was sort of like a balcony, with large pillars holding most of the upstairs view from the people down below, but the view from up top gave them a wide angle of the casino. She stopped in the dimly lit hallway, motioning toward the doors ahead.

“This hall here holds rooms three, four, and five.” She handed a key to Nat, another to Bill, and the last to Jim, who twirled it between his fingers with an easy grin. The small metal objects each had a plated tag hanging off of it, showcasing the room number that was also welded on the door. “Y’all are payin’ twenty-five cents a night, no exceptions. If you plan on stayin’ longer, I suggest you pay upfront, ‘cause once the room’s claimed, it’s claimed.” She began before along again, leading them closer to their abodes for the night.

She gestured toward the first door on the left, room three. “Room three’s got two beds, room four’s got two as well, and room five’s got one. If y’all want coffee and breakfast in the mornin’, you’ll either have to take a walk over to The Velvet Spur across the road, they serve food for a price. Or you can head over to Poundcake’s. That’s the diner ‘bout five doors down from here.” She folded her arms, turning around and glancing between them. “Any questions?” She asked sweetly.

David nodded toward the far end of the hall. “What about baths?”

Suga grinned. “You lookin’ to soak or just rinse off?”

David exhaled through his nose, amused. “Preferably soak.” He said, a small hitch in his brow as he looked at the woman.

“Then you’ll have to take yourself down to the bathhouse. Across the way, ‘bout a block down. They got heated water if you’re willin’ to pay extra. But if all you need is a quick rinse, we got a pump out back. Cold as hell, but it’ll do the trick.“

Jim scoffed. “Cold water don’t suit me.” He said, looking the woman up and down. Suga just fluttered her lashes at him as she blinked. “Well, lucky for you, Mr. Beckwourth, I don’t recall askin’.” Suga flashed a playful grin before nodding toward the doors. “Now, go on. Y’all smell like road dust and bad decisions.” She sighed wistfully before moving past them, her sweet scent trailing behind as she disappeared from their vicinity. Jim watched the woman walk away, a mischievous glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips.

The men chuckled as they made their way into their respective rooms. The accommodations were simple but clean—wooden bed frames with thick quilts, a small writing desk, a half bath, and a washbasin in the corner. Though room five, the one David got lucky choosing, had a bath and tub available for him to use. Looks like he landed himself in the couples' suite.

They didn’t waste much time settling in, only taking a moment to stash their bags and pull their weapons from the box those men carried in earlier. They barely had a moment to breathe before a sharp bang rang out from downstairs, the sound of something slamming, followed by the unmistakable sound of a bell being rung inside the saloon.

All five men froze, their hands instinctively going toward their guns. They all rushed out of their rooms, looking over the balcony and into the busy bottom floor, which now stopped what they were doing, looking around and waiting for the bell to stop ringing.

The music halting and the chatter dying made them able to hear the sound of rapid footsteps pounding against the floorboards outside. The door burst open, and a young boy came bursting through the saloon doors, huffing and puffing with his hat in his hands. “Crimson Hoods.”He warned. “Coming in fast.”

The air in the saloon shifted. Voices hushed even more. Everything was still for a moment, among them able to hear the distant sound of hives hitting the ground. This caused Cotton to sigh, coming from behind the bar. “You know the drill. Get to it.” She stated firmly. Her voice wasn’t raised, but it carried through the room like a command, settling into every ear and spine.

And that was all it took.

Chairs scraped against the floor as men pushed back from their tables, downing the last swigs of their drinks before moving swiftly to their places. Guests were led to the back while the workers at the gambling tables grabbed the weapons attached to their person and from under chairs and tables. Some headed for the windows, peeking through the curtains, while others took up positions near other entrances. The saloon moved like a well-oiled machine, each person knowing their role without hesitation. The gamblers armed themselves swiftly, drawing weapons from hidden holsters, under tables, and from inside waistbands.

The piano player shut the lid over the keys and stepped aside, revealing a shotgun tucked neatly beneath the bench. One of the assistant bartenders slipped a pistol from under the counter, checking the chamber before setting it within reach.

Women, too, moved with purpose. A few waitresses strolled toward the back halls, guiding guests and working girls away from the main floor, while others stationed themselves behind furniture, weapons discreetly in hand, from knives to revolvers. The Sweet sisters were no exception—Honey pulled a sawed rifle from behind the bar, Fluffy nicked up her dress and unstrapped the large knife from her thigh, and Suga grabbed the two pistols from Cotton's back holsters as she passed, spinning the chamber before snapping it shut. And Cotton sat the shit fun she has by the door, another two pistols at her for a quick draw.

Upstairs, the men exchanged looks. It was clear this wasn’t the first time Sugar Cane Creek had braced itself for a fight. And it seemed that they had led trouble right to their doorstep.

“Well,” Bill muttered, rolling his shoulders. “Guess unwindin’ will have to wait. He sighed before beginning to walk off towards the stairs. Nat was already moving with him, his expression grim. “Let’s go.” He grumbled. Without hesitation, the rest of the gang followed, boots thudding against the worn wooden floors as they made their way downstairs. “This is one hell of a welcome,” Bill muttered, pressing his lips into an impressed smirk, the thrill of it all thudding in his heart.

The Sweet sisters stood at the door, Cotton giving orders to the men that lingered while Honey and Suga flanked each side of the swinging entrance. “Ajei, Dezba, I want you to upstairs in my office by the window, don’t be seen and shoot on my whistle.” She commanded the two Native dealers, dressed in crisp white shirts, black vests, and slacks, to give her a curt nod before moving. “Let Charles and Sanford know you’re there.” She said, referring to snipers stationed on her roof.

She then turned to the large men who stopped them on their way in. “Gordo, Rito, I want you two to walk out with me when they touch down.” She stated as she moved over to the door, the butt of her shotgun dragging against the ground. And then she stood there, fingers wrapped around her gun. Her sisters stood on either side of the door while Gordo and Rito stationed themselves behind her.

A thick silence then fell over the saloon, making the sound of thudding hooves loud as they got closer and closer. The new group of men all looked at one another, watching as the situation seemed to be going a bit smoothly without them. But they needed to step in. Those hoods were there for them, probably being trailed far back, and led them right into Sugar Cane Creek.

They heard the hooves approaching, the thunderous sound echoing within the quiet bar before they began to come to a halt. The silence in the saloon was thick enough to choke on, broken only by the slow, steady thudding of hooves against packed dirt. The Crimson Hoods were close now. Too close.

Nat and his gang exchanged looks, understanding passing between them without words. This situation was running smoothly without their interference—for now. But they knew damn well that those men weren’t here for the Sweet family. No, they had to have been trailed. Led those rough necks right into Sugar Cane Creek. Nat exhaled sharply through his nose, glancing at his men before giving a firm nod. Time to move.

Once their hooves finally decided to decent slowly, Cortton nodded her head at the drop that surrounded her. Honey and Suga tightened their grip on their weapons while Gordo and Rito pushed the doors open, moving to step outside before their boss did. The air was tight with tension, thick and heavy like the humidity before a storm. There was a long moment of silence before Cotton decided to make her move. She stepped out onto the creaking porch, the only sound slicing through the silence was the slow, deliberate thump of Cotton’s rifle against wooden boards as she strode forward, her boots clicking against the dusty and dried porch.

There they were. The Crimson Hoods, sat still on their horses, a dozen shadowy figures cloaked in deep red. The leader at the front made a show of dismounting once the woman walked out, his movements unhurried, almost lazy. A few of the gang members staggered, trying to follow the man. The supposed ring leader yanked the sack off his head, revealing a smirk stretched across sharp features, the silver gleam of his gills catching in the dim lantern light.

Red Benny.

His name carried weight across parts of the West, whispered in places where men feared to speak too loud. A man who lived for the thrill of conquest, for the chaos his gang carved into the land like a hot knife through butter. For the riches, he’d blow in the same hour of obtaining them.

Cotton squared her shoulders, rifle still in hand but not yet raised. She knew better than to move first.

“Evenin’, Miss Sweet.” Benny drawled, his voice a slow, smooth rasp, like whiskey rolling over jagged rocks. “Ain’t this a fine night?” He asked with a sly grin. Cotton’s expression didn’t waver, her stare locked into his while her men eyed the others next to her. “Depends on who you ask.” She deadpanned as she owned the weight of her gun.

Benny chuckled, shaking his head as he took a bold step forward. The men around him stayed still, waiting for a cue. Neither did Cotton’s men, only soaking the men under her scrutinizing gaze a glance, before focusing on the masked men behind him.

“Now, now,” Benny said, spreading his hands wide as if to show how harmless he was. “No need to be so tense. We’re just passin’ through.”

Cotton’s fingers flexed over the muzzle of her rifle, jaw flexing as she stared down at the man. “Funny thing, Benny. I’ve heard that before, right before a town wound up burned to the ground.” She sighed, moving herself to lean her weight off the large gun and stand firm on her feet, eyes unmoving from his frame. “And that won’t be happening here, boy.”

Benny clicked his tongue, just as a fire lit in his eyes, something full of rage and hatred in them. “You wound me, sweetheart.”

The woman simply let out a small scoff from her place at the center of the porch, moving the rest of her gun on her shoulder. Her movements caused some of the men behind him to reach for their weapons. But Benny quickly held up his hands, signaling them to stop. Cotton simply arched a brow at the bold men behind Benny, not an ounce of fear showing on her at the potential death that almost happened. “Ain’t nobody ever been sweet on you, Benny. And I damn sure won’t be the one to start.”

His grin widened, making his annoyance and bitterness with faux amusement. “That so?” He questioned. Cotton just stared at him, quirking a brow due to the timing since that followed, wanting to see his next movie or he could move on. He let his gaze drift, wiping his nose as his eyes caught the sight of hats moving inside. His eyes landed briefly on the shadows behind the saloon’s swinging doors, where more figures lurked. Cotton’s expression remained unreadable, but the weight of her stare was heavy, unrelenting. The way Benny spoke, all slow and measured, trying to put on that boyish charm, only made her grip her rifle a little tighter.

Then, finally, his eyes flicked toward Cotton’s rifle, still at her side.

“I think you may have something of ours in that saloon of yours, that’s all.” The man said, trying to put on this innocent act while he stalled, only building up the irritation within her. Nat stood near the entrance of the saloon, not even tensing at the man’s mention of his crew, his arms folded as he watched Cotton work. He wasn’t one to intervene in another gunslinger’s standoff unless he had to, and right now? Cotton had it handled, but this was just as much as his fight. And if Benny or his boys so much as twitched the wrong way, Nat’s hand was already hovering near his holster.

Cotton tilted her head slightly. “That so?” She asked, though the infliction in her voice never chanted, bland and dry as ever.

Benny nodded, taking another slow step forward. He was near easy up the steps, making Cotton grip the rule tighter while she discreetly signaled to her sisters at the door with a flick of her finger. “Couple of fellas we was trailing a while ago, we lost ‘em. But then for works pretty quickly that they’d turned up here. You wouldn’t happen to know where they are, would you?” He questioned with a quick tilt of his head and a shrug.

Cotton gave a dry chuckle, her free hand settling on her hip. “Sugar Cane Creek ain’t in the business of harborin’ rats, Benny. If somebody’s here, it’s ‘cause they paid their dues, and that means they got my protection.” She let the words hang in the air, firm and final. David watched quietly, eyes steady on the scene unfolding outside. He hadn’t been in Cane Creek long, but he had learned fast—when Cotton spoke, people listened. She’s got control over this entire town, and she don’t even have to raise her voice. He admired that. A show of force wasn’t always necessary, but Cotton could pull the trigger just as easy as she could talk a man into his grave. And if this went south? He’d be ready.

Benny let out a deep sigh, rubbing a hand over his chin before giving her a look that was equal parts amused and frustrated. “Now, see, that’s the thing about you Sugar Creek folks. Always so hospitable.” His voice was thick with sarcasm. “But sometimes, a good host knows when it’s best to hand over the unwanted guests.” He finished, his jaw clenching near the end of his tangent in agitation.

Cotton rolled her shoulders, letting her weight shift. She glanced at Gordo and Rito beside her, simply blinking at the two men as she pretended to think what she was going to say to him. She caught sight of stragglers hiding, people peeking out of their blinds while the bold, eyed them from around corners. It seemed as if the entire town was watching, waiting, breathing in sync with her.

“I don’t take kindly to folks ridin’ up in my town, throwin’ threats at my doorstep,” Cotton said, voice dropping low. “You and your boys may not be outnumbered, Benny. But what you lack in skill and all-around intelligence, well, you see, I make up for it. Ten times over, matter a fact. In this town, and the next. And, quite frankly, any damn town I step my foot into.” She hissed. “Now…” She began, taking a few steps forward and looking down at the man below the steps, the wind blowing dust on the path he stood on. “You sure you wanna see how that plays out?” She asked with a quirk of her brow.

Ans for the first time, Benny’s smirk wavered, his facade cracking under her hard gaze. She caught just a flicker of something calculating behind his eyes, catching the small twitch in his jaw, a tell to his irritation. She knew she got to him. And he knew Cotton wasn’t bluffing. The Sweet family ran Sugar Cane Creek tight, and a fight here wouldn’t be a fair one, and it wouldn’t be one that ended.

Still, the ever egotistical man that he was, he pretended. He had a reputation to uphold.

His smirk turned into something sharper.

“So,” He murmured, voice still deceptively light, “What’s it gonna be, Miss Sweet? You gonna let us on through and take what we owe, or are we gonna have ourselves a little dance?”

Cotton let the moment as she quirked a brow at his suddenly, allowing Benny to sit in his own impatience, and stupidity for the way going to regret acting tomorrow morning.

Her eyes flicked from him to the men behind him, her eyes squinting in the blowing wind as they all stood still as statues, their hands resting near their weapons. The whole town was waiting, listening. Even the wind seemed to hush, as if afraid to stir the wrong way.

Then, slowly, deliberately, Cotton exhaled through her nose and took one more step forward, standing at the very edge of the porch. Her rifle still rested against her shoulder, but the weight of her stare alone might as well have been a bullet.

“You ain’t owed a damn thing.” She annunciated slowly, voice smooth as warm honey but hard as the steel barrel of her gun, raising a bit as she reached her peak. “Not by me, not by this town.”

Benny’s smirk tightened, but his fingers twitched at his side. He wasn’t used to being told no.

Cotton just tilted her head slightly, her tone turning mocking as she continued. “You said you lost ‘em. So tell me, Benny, how’s that my problem?” She asked, blinking at him.

Benny chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Y’see, that’s the thing, Miss Sweet. I don’t like losin’ things. And when I do, I tend to get ‘em back—one way or another.”

Cotton’s lips barely twitched. “That a threat?”

“Ain’t a threat if it’s a promise.”

The town was holding its breath now. Cotton could practically feel her sisters at her back, feel the tension thickening in the air like a storm rolling in.

She clicked her tongue. “Well, then, let me make you a promise, Benny.” She lowered her rifle from her shoulder, resting the butt against her hip, one hand still wrapped around the barrel. “You take one step further, and I put your black ass in the dirt where you stand.” She spat.

Benny stilled.

The men behind him straightened.

Cotton didn’t move an inch.

Then, Benny exhaled through his nose, a slow, sharp breath, before he finally took a step back. He glanced once more at the saloon doors, catching nothing. Then at the eyes peering through windows, at the large men flanking Cotton. His jaw worked as he mulled it over.

But before he could make a decision, Cotton let out a slow, lilting whistle, the sound carrying in the wind.

Then—chaos.

It all happened in a blink. A loud shot rang out, and the man fell to the ground with a sharp pain shooting through his right arm. Benny screamed in anguish as the searing heat bobbled up his arm. He barely processed what he felt and what had happened before another shot tore into his other arm. But his loud exclamations of pure pain were unheard over the cries from the other men as the sniper's bullets howled they found their marks with the rest of the Crimson Hoods.

Benny fell to the ground at the pain, wailing at the top of his lungs at the hot bullets felt as if they boiled under his skin. Cotton slowly descended the steps, her cold eyes trained on the screaming man on the ground as he bled out, her boots slow and measured against the wooden steps until they hit the dirt road.

Controlled chaos ensued around them, Honey and Suga popping out from behind the doors and shooting at hoods that tried to run or pull out their weapons, gunfire cracking through the air. Nat and his gang followed—their fastest gunslingers, David and Jin, moving like shadows, their revolvers striking true. Terry and Bill picked their shots with lethal precision, their rifles sending men to the dust with every pull of the trigger. Nat himself moved like a man with nothing to lose, his pistol barking in his hand.

Cotton stood over Benny, who writhed in the dirt, clutching at his bloody arms, looking down at him as he cried out in anguish. It wasn’t long before gunfire quieted and pains turned back into silence. The last of the Crimson Hoods either lay dead or had fled into the night with injuries they wouldn’t survive. The town, once holding its breath, now released it in a tense, waiting silence.

Save for the lead man, who was now bleeding with the rest of his fallen soldiers. Cotton only looked up from the man when caught the sounds of pleading from next to her, looking over to see David pressing the barrel of his gun to the last man standing. She cast a sharp whistle to catch his attention. When he glanced at her, she shook her head. “Not him.” She said, and David didn’t argue, while she didn’t explain before looking back down at the infamous Red Benny.

“Now you know not to ever try me again.” She stated, not caring if the man heard her over his own screams, Her voice was calm, nearly bored.

She blinked at him. Then, without hesitation, she shot him in the leg. Benny emitted a loud cry.

Cotton barely blinked before turning her attention to the last remaining Crimson Hood. She walked up to him, yanking the burlap sack from his head before gripping his jaw, her fingers digging into his skin until he winced.

“You take him. Take that horse.” She nodded toward the wounded Benny and the tethered stallion nearby, most of the others either running away or dying in the line of fire of the man brawl. “And you get the hell up outta here. I see—or even hear either of your names—I’ll kill you slow.” She spat. The man frantically nodded, causing Cotton to push his face away from her hands. She watched as the man scrambled and gathered Benny and the horse as best as he could ride off, the woman not turning away until she couldn’t see them and could no longer hear Benny’s cries.

Cotton waited until they were gone before she turned, dusting her hands off onto her pants. She then took off her hat to smooth down the front pieces of her hair that came up, her silver money pieces giving her an odd sense of youth. Once straightened, she turned on her heels. “Somebody come clean this shit up!” She called out, stepping back into the saloon without so much as a glance at her family and newfound allies.

The town was still, silent in the aftermath. The only sounds left were the soft clinking of spent shells on the blood-streaked dirt and loud crickets from the forest near yonder.

Jin twirled his revolvers once before sliding them back into their holsters, looking at her walk away with something between respect and amusement. “Ain’t never seen a woman put a man down that quick and still have time to fix her hair after.” He said, admiration somewhat in his tone.

Cotton didn’t respond. She just stepped past them. The moment she crossed the threshold, the tension in her shoulders loosened—but only just. She wasn’t done yet. Inside, the saloon was eerily quiet. People had ducked behind tables, cowered near the walls, or simply frozen in place, waiting to see how the night would end. Her men unstationed themselves, putting their smoking guns down at the sight of no more danger.

Cotton closed her eyes as she rolled her neck, the weight of the night settling in, but she didn’t let it show. Gin still in hand, she walked straight to the bar, grabbed an empty glass, and poured herself a shot of whiskey with steady hands.

She threw it back in one smooth motion before slamming the glass on the counter. Then, without looking, she called out, “We got about ten minutes before more folks come snoopin’. Y’all best start cleanin’ up.” Knowing that her sisters and their new friends had followed her inside, all in a state of limbo at what just occurred.

Honey was the first to move, stepping in and surveying the damage with a nod. “I’ll get someone to strip the bodies for what they have, Gordo and Rito will move them.” She said, already heading for the door again.

Suga clicked her tongue, lazily wiping down the counter as if that would somehow erase the tension still lingering in the air. “Guess that means me and the girls are on blood duty.” She pouted a little, referring to the other waitresses at the bar.

This caused Fluffy to smack her lips, cutting her eyes at her sister. “So I’m on graveyard duty? Again?” She asked, holding her hands on her hips. “My digging clothes are dirty.” She added. Cotton, who had just thrown back another shot, slammed the glass down with a dull thunk. She turned to Fluffy, unimpressed. “Good, ‘cause they’re just gonna get filthy again. Now take four of them men and get to it.” She said, nodding her head over to the working men of the bar. None of the women even had to ask, they didn’t even have to speak, before four of them jumped into action, heading out to the stables to grab supplies to get to digging a mass grave out back.

Once the women left to do their duties for the night, Cotton took one last shot before looking around at the customers who still lingered. “Y’all ain’t gotta go home, but you gotta get the hell up outta here.” She stated, causing the non-staying customers to hurry and scurry out of the saloon, not even caring about the money they left behind for the establishment to take.

Outside, the scraping of boots against dirt and the hushed whispers of those still brave enough to linger filled the air.

Cotton looked over at the group of men who seemed to be nothing but trouble, but she knew tonight wasn’t entirely their fault. Her eyes were back to their dull and unimpressed glint, rhetorical hatred, and quiet anger she felt earlier not in sight. She looked between them before simply blinking. “Welcome to Sugar Cane Creek, this is the Sweet Tooth and I hope you enjoy your stay.” She said, offering the most subtle polite smile before making her way upstairs and down a hall on the opposite side of the saloon, disappearing for the night.

The group of unfamiliar men might’ve been watching before, admiring the beauties The Creek had to offer, but now they knew.

Sugar Cane Creek wasn’t just a town.

It was her town.

144 notes · View notes

notapradagurl7 · 18 days ago

Text

We Meet Again.

Black Fem! ReaderHairStylist! x Lamont Diggs.

Fandom: Rap Sh!t(2022-2023)🥲

Summary: When your niece, Kailey is best friends with your client's daughter that you drove to school but didn't give them right back to your sibling, you didn't expect to run in Lamont again and you didn't know that he had a crush on you, leading to more than a confession.

WC: 3,435k

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write about Lamont for a minute! He’s been fine to me since day one, and I miss rap sh!t, 😭 don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open! ❤️🫡

Warnings: fluff, dirty talk, praise, fingering, use of AAVE, cussing, angst, mention of neglect, use of the n-word, rough sex, unprotected sex, head(fem receiving) consensual for both parties, confession, PWP, pet names, sibling rivalry.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @naj-ay444

@becauseimswagman1 @jazziejax

@beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @henneseyhoe

@yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @caashmoneynae @miguelspvssy @liatreads @kaylaahisthebestest- @uniqueoutlierblog @dxddykenn

@mind-somewhere-else

@kindofaintrovert

@lady-olive-oil @23jammy @musicisme333 @saturnville @enchantedillumination @mogul93 @theereina @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @fakxmbj @kumkaniudaku @ranikyani @mama-2001 @luckydaye777

—————

Your gaze drifted to your niece Kailey through the rearview mirror, where she sat in the backseat, radiating pure joy. Her bright smile lit up her face, and her raven hair was intricately styled into box braids, each adorned with colorful pink and white beads that jingled softly with every movement.

The sunlight spewed through the window, casting a warm glow on her smooth brown skin, making her look as if she was glowing with anticipation.

You chuckled lightly before almost driving when the traffic light turned red, Kailey was always so excited about going to school, learning and seeing her new best friend, Melissa.

“Someone’s excited huh?” You hummed with a grin, before your eyes flickered back to the road.

“Yeah, I get to see my best friends today, Melissa, we share cute stickers and play games, Toby and I always trade Scooby Doo fruit snacks too!” Kailey exclaimed, looking at you with a smile.

Damn, you remember those Scooby fruit snacks in middle school through high school. You made a mental note to buy a plethora of them when you went grocery shopping for you and Kailey.

Also, make a mental note to call your sister for the umpteenth time but she never picked up the damn phone. It was never “hello, how are you?” it was always “Has Kailey been fed yet?” as if her child was a pet, not a human.

“It’s good to have friends you can have fun with and trust Kai, and we get to spend the weekend together again,” You sang playfully, watching her grin.

It appeared that today's children had a tendency to cycle through best friends as easily as one might change outfits—discarding old friendships with casual indifference, treating them as if they were nothing more than disposable items.

“I like spending time with you more than Mommy, she never asked how my day was, never checked on me, nothing,” Kailey mumbled under her breath.

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel at the softness of her voice, the sadness that you wanted to destroy and let it not come near Kailey or you.

Why did Mariah have to be such a bitch? How to have a child if you were going to put her through this? Why have sex without condoms if you know that you're going to be a bad parent—-

“Green light, auntie!” Kailey exclaimed with a giggle.

Her voice brought you back into reality as you made a left turn through the highway. The faint sounds of cars beeping horns and passing through, prickled at you. Almost making your eye twitch.

In vibrant Miami, life was a balancing act; you juggled three jobs that defined your chaotic yet fulfilling routine. By day, you transformed looks as a passionate hair stylist, and by night, you served drinks and meals as a part-time waitress.

In between those roles, you played the pivotal part of chauffeur and auntie, dutifully driving your niece, Kailey, from her home to school and back again. Kailey often stayed at your house, sometimes for days, often for nights at a time.

Meanwhile, your sister, Mariah, was perpetually busy with what she claimed was a thriving career at a prestigious corporate firm, one that left little room in her life for the needs of her daughter.

Mariah’s relentless ambition drove her to prioritize her desire to climb the corporate ladder—her sights set firmly on the role of CEO—over the maternal responsibilities that came with raising a child.

In her attempts to reclaim a life unmarred by motherhood, she became increasingly neglectful of Kailey, and this deep-seated frustration gnawed at you.

You couldn't shake the looming comparisons to the character Toni Childs from the TV show *Girlfriends*: rude, manipulative, and consumed by her own desires.

Clearly, she cared for Kailey and raised her well, but it was apparent that she eagerly anticipated your arrival to take her child, allowing her some personal time. However, children are perceptive and can sense when something isn't right.

“Auntie Y/N, is mommy going to be home when I get back?” Kailey asked, her voice laced with a hint of worry.

You glanced back at her, your heart melting at her innocent expression, “No, baby. She won't be home. I can't lie to you when I tell you that she’s not doing a job, i'm making that money so we can have fun, right?”

You understood Kailey's feelings at her age because your mom acted the same way when you were young.

You supported your sister while your aunt took on the parenting role and told you both that sometimes parents can be awful and may not prioritize you. She wanted to reassure you that you weren't alone in this.

The car came to a complete stop in the elementary parking lot and you killed the engine, pressing the button, hearing the crisp clicks of the locks unlocking. You stepped out while closing the door behind yourself, opening Kailey’s door for her, grabbing her hand as she jumped out.

After letting Kailey out of the car, her tiny shoes clicked on the concrete. You quickly held out your hand out as she gripped yours tight, “Are you for school?”you asked with a smile.

“Yes, I am, I can't see my friends and hang out with you,” She replied back.

“Have a great day okay? I love you pooh bear,”

“I will, you have a great day too, Auntie Y/N!”

Kailey ran into your arms, enveloping you in a tight, warm hug, you kissed her forehead and gently put her down.

As you observed the cheerful brown-skinned girl dash off with her friends, they made their way toward the double doors that swung open, by their favorite teacher. Ms. Wilson, her skin similar to a butterscotch hard candy in your grandmother's purse.

Standing by the doors, Ms. Wilson, framed her face, her curly pixie cut was in a shade of chocolate brown. She wore a light blue collared tee, paired elegantly with a diamond-patterned pencil skirt just below her knees. Her black heels clicked softly against the floor as she moved.

With a wave of her hand and a friendly smile directed at you, she created an inviting atmosphere, prompting you to respond with a kind wave and a warm smile in return.

“Thanks for everything, Ms. Wilson!”

“Of course, dear! I'm glad to always help!”

You were happy to have the same teacher growing up and now Kailey has that, a teacher that cared.

You turned to spot a recognizable tall man with locs, his brown skin glistening in the heat. He wore a grey t-shirt and grey shorts that hung loosely around his bare legs, while his crisp white Air Forces clicked rapidly against the sidewalk.

His daughter Melissa tugged on his hand. She had her locs in pigtails, brown skinned, dressed in a pink dress and sneakers.

It had been ages since you last laid eyes on him at that vibrant cookout your family hosted five months ago.

Hearing those toxic stories about them and yours made you cringe, the back and forth between them, and honestly you remember one night when you smoked weed with him and blurted out that Mia didn't deserve him. He deserves better.

Once he heard that, he held on to what you said. Keeping it tugged in the depths of his mind like you passed him a secret love note in college, avoiding the prying gaze from your classmates and professor.

And you never heard him speak of Mia’s name ever again, as if she was Lord Voldemort from Harry Potter. He only discussed his music-producing career and his daughter, Melissa.

The sun was shining brightly, and laughter filled the air as your daughter and niece enjoyed their playdate amidst the lively cookout.

Your aunt Cassie, was also the matchmaker, had invited Lamont, knowing that the two of you had a genuine friendship that she believed could grow into something more.

Her strong disapproval of Mia was evident and has been there from the start. Only fueling her desire for a connection between you and Lamont.

That man was fine, fine.

You knew about the complicated relationship between Lamont and Mia, who have a daughter named Melissa, and you only restyled Lamont's locs; he paid you the substantial fee you asked for.

“Come on, Daddy! I don't want to be late for school,” Melissa exclaimed, tugging onto the hem of his shirt.

You hadn't seen him in a while; life had gotten busy, but this moment felt nostalgic.

He approached you, his daughter tugging at his arm impatiently. “I swear she’s gonna pull something else if I don't get there faster,”

“Tell her to take it easy, it’s just school,” You replied with a chuckle, smiling at him.

Lamont chuckled and shook his head, “Not when she’s ready to see her best friend Kaliey and Toby, also its arts and crafts,” he replied, rolling his eyes dramatically.

His eyes locked with yours again, and you felt the tension rise between you. “You know how these kids get,”

You laughed, the sound light and airy, as you watched his daughter talk lively about her plans for the day. It was hard not to notice the admiration in Lamont's eyes as he listened to her, a proud father in his element.

“Daddy!”

“Okay, okay,”

You watched them walk inside, the doors closed shut with a loud click and the bell rang immediately after, moments and moments later. You were brought back to reality by the familiar sound of sneakers scuffing against the pavement.

You turned to see Lamont walking out of the school, his tall frame striding toward you with a look of satisfaction, you felt butterflies in your stomach. That feeling you couldn't shake when you were around him.

“Y/N!” he called out, and your heart did a little flip.

“Hey, everything okay?” You asked, curiosity crept up as your eyes locked with his.

“Yeah, just wanted to catch you before you left, I was thinkin’ maybe..you could help me out with my locs,” he asked, running a hand through his locs. Y

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile spreading across your face, “Oh? You're asking for a hair appointment, huh? Is that your way of saying you want to spend time with me?” you asked with a head tilt.

“Well, yeah…I mean, I wouldn't mind some of some of your company today, just us?” He said nervously, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Was he that nervous around you or was it just the Miami heat?

“I wouldn't mind your company either, I can definitely retwist your locs,” you replied with a smile, keeping your tone light.

“Cool, can I ride with’chu in your car?” he asked again, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes,” you hummed in response, leading the way to your car. You unlocked the doors, and he slid into the passenger seat with a grin as you both settled in.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, you stole a glance at him. Driving off the school and made a right turn on the street.

The luxurious houses of the neighborhood flashed by, side by side, sprawling out well-trimmed green grass and manicured gardens. Lamont gazed out the window, impressed by the level of opulence that surrounded the ambiance.

Parking into the driveway carefully, killing the engine. Unlocking the doors and stepping out. “Nice neighborhood,” Lamont commented, his eyes roaming the place.

“Yeah, my aunt left me the house after she found another place to live, it's a bit much for me, I make it work,” you replied with a shoulder shrug.

“I can see why you like it, it's peaceful,” He nodded, his eyes still scanning the area.

Both of you walked over to the front door, and you pulled out the keys. Once inside the house, you took off your shoes, and Lamont followed suit, setting his by the door.

As the two of you settled onto the couch, you grabbed the comb and twisted hair cream. Putting the soft pillow between your feet, "Sit," you said, your eyes on him.

Lamont did as you told him, you grabbing the twisting hair cream and light green comb from atop the dresser, starting to retwist his locs carefully with skill.

“How come we never took that chance?” he asked you with a soft tone.

Your eyes widened at what he was saying, you were a bit confused. “What do you mean?”

“Us, you and me,” He recited with a serious yet soft tone.

As you finished the last few locs on his head, you pondered on it deeply. You wanted to know the same thing too.

“Umm…maybe because we were busy, you were still with Mia, I've been watching over my niece since my sister doesn't want to do it, life..” You confessed to him.

Once you were done with retwisting his locs, he stood up and sat beside you on the couch, giving you a serious yet softened expression, as if he had something on his mind that he has been holding it so long.

“I really like you, I want you to be my girl and I'm sorry that I—”

“Lamont…i get it, I like you too but can we make this work? You’ve got Mia, and I’ve got Kailey, I do want this to work,”

“I believe we can, you trust me right?” Lamont asked you, his hand atop yours, his thumb swiped over your palm.

“Yes, I trust you, Lamont, you're mine right?”

“All yours, baby,”

Your heart raced as he gently laid you back on the couch, their kisses growing deeper and more urgent. Each of their clothes taken off, tossed and littered across the bedroom floor.

He positioned himself between your legs with his hands tight on your hips, and rubbing his tip against your folds, your wetness coating his dick perfectly, "L-Lamont...fuck me..please.." you whined, moving your hips with him, hearing soft squelching sounds filling the room.

Lamont grinned in response before leaning down, "A'ight, since you're direct tonight, I'll give this dick," he teased, pushing himself inside you as she wanted from him, moaning wildly. Your pussy was to die for, and Lamont is gonna kill for it.

Lamont pressed his lips back to yours, rocking his hips into you at a rough pace. The bed creaked underneath their weight with every thrust, your nails felt a trail of marks on his back, "Oh fuck! Lamont!" you mewled, tears burning through your eyelids. Your arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him again.

He hoisted you upwards to ensure that you faced him forward in his lap to ride him, Lamont hissed sharply and his eyes fluttered closed, a low 'fuck' left his lips as he watched your face contort with pleasure. Neither of them wanted the night to end yet, they wanted more rounds to make up for every day that they didn't see each other.

"Shit..right there!" you mewled loudly, the words escaping you, you swivel your hips gently against him, riding his dick with skill. You forced your eyes open, meeting his loving gaze, moving with your pace. "Right here, baby?" he hummed, hitting that sweet spot repeatedly.

"Damn, baby.." he groaned in her ear, his praise gave you an intense thrill, he utterly filled you up. You started to vigorously bounce on him, feeling waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "That feels so fuckin good, more," you whined again, your nails scratched into his skin harder as you let out increasingly inhumane moans.

His fingers tracing the stretch marks on your ass, every delicate mark was a work of art to him, and Lamont felt a rush of gratitude for the beauty before him, your fingers tangled through his locs, and he watched your essence spill all over his dick and drilling his hips upwards, "You're always this wet for me?" Lamont rasped, licking his lips.

"Y-Yes! it's..f-for y-you!" You stutteringly wails, your eyes rolled back. Lamont's hand delivered a firm smack on your ass and she hissed. "Faster.." he demanded, watching the woman bounce with his merciless pace, you only let out a plethora of unholy moans.

Every thrust felt loving, meaningful and that's what he wanted you to feel, trailing kisses along your neck, worshipping your body with every touch, kiss and stare.

"Don't stop..harder..please!" you stammered desperately, biting your lip. Your slick walls hugged tightly around him as he pushed harder, his hands gripping your asscheeks. "I won't, I missed you, you know that?" he groaned in your ear.

He withdrew and swiftly turned you onto your stomach before he finished, carefully sliding back inside as you opened your mouth silently, "Y-yes! I-i missed you so much!" you cried out, feeling him push further and his thrusts becoming more forceful with desire, he took charge as each motion drew breathy gasps from her, fingers clenching the blanket.

“I missed you more,” he said, swiveling his hips, watching her squirm underneath him, you could barely respond, but that's the part she loves.

You loved to feel every inch, so lost in the sensation of him filling you up completely. "Lamont, I-I d-don't w-wanna c-cum—-" you gasped sharply, your head fell onto the pillow, feeling the knot tighten within her stomach, his pelvis meeting her ass after every thrust, making a clapping sound similar to a gunshot.

With each stroke, he pushed her closer to the edge. His hands gripped her waist. "I know, baby, one more time for me?" Lamont grunted, you squirmed beneath him, sending jolts of pleasure through you, Back arching and his palm spanked your ass again, he watched sticky strings of your essence break between them.

"Yes...only for you, i'm-gonna cum!" you replied, your voice strained with effort. Leaving you breathless and squeezing your eyes shut. His thrusts turned sloppy, and sporadic, both of them were so close, "Fuck, me too,"

Feeling her climax gushed on him, Lamont followed suit, pulling out and his warm cum spilling forth on the couch as he groaned, "Just like that," he breathed, their bodies entwined in a blissful haze. You felt him pulse inside, as he felt your heartbeat too, They both shuddered and he pulled out after, collapsing beside her.

Their naked bodies laid side by side, Lamont pulled her close, you rested your head against his chest. Hearing his heartbeat with your, with their backs against the sheets, breathing heavily and chests raising and falling in sync, chuckling lightly.

"Lamont, you have no idea how many nights I thought about this moment." you said, kissing lips twice. Still riding the high of their connection.

"But I wanna another but I gotta pick up my niece..” you confessed, tracing shaped on his arm. Her heart swelled with love.

You stood from the couch, gathering clothes, and taking a shower. Then you and Lamont walked out of your house, settling inside your car, driving off.

Knowing that your friendship was becoming more, it was something you wanted for so long. Lamont kissed your cheek, and said “I'm all yours, don't worry,”

———-