#modern IT stack

[goodoldbandit]

The Bold Shift: Why IT Leaders Must Champion Hyper-automation Now.

Sanjay Kumar Mohindroo Sanjay Kumar Mohindroo. skm.stayingalive.in Hyper-automation is not a tech upgrade—it’s a leadership challenge. Discover why bold IT leaders are driving the shift. Hyper-automation is no longer just a buzzword. It’s the lifeline for large enterprises that want to survive the next ten years. With rising operational costs, inconsistent manual processes, and growing…

[dreamivyisla]

ʚɞ 𝐆𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐒 ʚɞ

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ➤ Elias “Stack” Moore

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ➤ after a beach day with your man, you get a little too bold inside a gas station. stack’s always let you act up — until today.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ➤ my sister gave me this idea a few weeks ago, and i’ve been afraid to execute it. i tried my hardest and my best, so enjoy!

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ➤ 6.5k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ➤ public sex, brat!reader, dom!stack, rough sex, agoraphilia, exhibitionism (implied/mentioned), brat taming, black!reader (but anyone can imagine themselves), choking (light), spanking, dirty talk, creampie denial. 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈! 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓! 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you knew you was doin’ too much the second his hand slid off yours in the car.

been out all damn day—beach, then food, now gas station. and you still had your bikini on, that pink two-piece that got his ass quiet all morning. real quiet, like he ain’t even wanna look at you too long, ‘cause he knew he couldn’t do nothin’ about it. or maybe he just ain’t feel like dealin’ with you, same way he never do when you start actin’ up.

elias always let you talk shit. roll your eyes. twist your neck. he was calm with it, too — never raised his voice, never cussed back, just let you throw your little attitude around like it wasn’t nothing but summer breeze. he’d hit you with them same three words every time:

“you done yet?”

like he was bored. like you wasn’t pressin’ his buttons on purpose.

but today? you was pressin’ all of ‘em.

you had sand stuck to the back of your thighs, sunglasses on your face, and that top barely tied behind your neck. and when you stepped in that gas station, them heads turned like they was supposed to. not his, though. elias just walked straight to the back cool as ever, like you wasn’t trailin’ behind him with your hips swingin’ and that little smirk on your face.

he looked too good to be that unfazed — tall, all dark brown skin and gold glintin’ in his mouth when he talked, them coarse waves slicked back clean like always. lean arms, long fingers. he smelled like ocean water and white tee. real easy on the eyes.

and you was actin’ out just to see if he’d finally bite.

“you need help wit somethin’, baby?” you asked him, loud enough for the cashier to hear. he didn’t even turn.

“nah.”

you followed him toward the drinks, slid in front of the glass cooler with a stretch you ain’t even have to do. bent over a little too far when you reached for that arizona. caught your own reflection in the glass — yeah, you looked too good. thick thighs, toned stomach, lips glossed up and pouty. black skin glistenin’ all over. everybody was lookin’, except him.

so you kept goin’.

grabbed the drink and popped it open without payin’, took a slow sip like you was in a music video. even gave a little moan at the end. “mmm. so good.”

he finally turned his head.

just for a second. you saw the jaw clench. saw the way his nostrils flared a little. then he looked back down at the row of drinks.

“girl,” he muttered. warning tone.

you ignored it, stepped in front of him with the bottle still in your hand and leaned up like you was gon’ whisper in his ear.

“bet i could get a discount if i smile at the cashier.”

he ain’t move. ain’t blink. just let you be stupid with it.

“stack,” you said, draggin’ his name out real slow. “you gon’ keep lettin’ me play with you like this?”

his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.

he looked at you. really looked. and that shit hit your stomach like a punch. his eyes dropped to your mouth, then your chest, then your legs, then back up. heat crept up your neck and you started smilin’ before you could stop yourself.

“go on,” he said, voice low. “keep actin’ like that.”

you stepped closer. “what you gon’ do?”

“you’ll see.”

you rolled your eyes again, took another sip of the arizona and walked off with your head high. whole back exposed, sand still stickin’ to your skin, every part of you beggin’ for attention you swore you ain’t want.

and then you heard his footsteps.

soft, but steady. real smooth. and the next thing you knew, his hand wrapped around your wrist, firm but not rough. he pulled you right back past the chips and snacks like he owned you. ain’t say a word. just looked down at you like he was tired of playin’.

“what the fuck is your problem?” he asked, low enough for just you to hear.

you blinked up at him, lips still glossed. “ain’t no problem. you just don’t know how to pay attention.”

his fingers flexed around your wrist. he pulled you deeper into the store — toward the back where the stockroom door was cracked and the big-ass refrigerators blocked the view. cool air blew down from the ceiling vent, and you shivered, suddenly hyper-aware of how bare your body was.

elias turned to face you, eyes sharp.

“you think this funny?” he asked.

“i think you full of shit,” you shot back, half-laughin’. “you always talk like you gon’ do something, but you don’t. i walk all over you and you don’t even care.”

his tongue clicked against his teeth. he stepped forward. “you really wanna test me in public?”

you smiled again, but your heart was beating now. hard. “you ain’t gon’ do nothin’, stack. you all talk. like always.”

he stepped in closer, and your back hit the cooler.

his voice dropped even lower. “you sure about that?”

you stared up at him, breath caught in your throat.

and that’s when it hit you. this wasn’t like the other times. his eyes weren’t lazy. he looked… tense. jaw locked. like he was holding back. like he was real close to snappin’.

you swallowed.

“…you mad?”

he leaned in. gold glinting under the fluorescent lights. “nah. not mad. just done wastin’ time.”

you blinked.

and then he gripped your waist, turned you around real quick and pressed you into the cold glass of the cooler. your breath hitched. his hand slid up the back of your thigh — slow, calloused — and your whole body jerked at the touch.

you gasped — quiet, but not quiet enough.

your thighs clenched. your lips parted.

he pulled back just enough to look at you. “say somethin’ now.”

but you didn’t.

you couldn’t.

his hand slipped under your bikini bottoms like it belonged there. like this wasn’t the back of a gas station and you ain’t just get done mouthing off. you pressed your palms flat against the cooler, forehead touched the cold glass, and you told yourself you was gon’ keep your composure.

but the second he touched your pussy?

you folded.

“mhm—fuck…” you hissed, voice pitchy, legs already damn near shakin’. his fingers moved slow. practiced. two fingers slid right through that mess he made, and he let out a low breath through his nose when he felt how wet you were.

“you walkin’ round actin’ like a damn fool,” he muttered, draggin’ his fingertips over your clit lazy as hell. “and for what? attention? this what you wanted?”

“yes,” you whispered. no hesitation. “been wantin’ it.”

he chuckled — low, mean. the kind that said i know.

“so you just gon’ keep pushin’ me till i break you in half, huh?”

your back arched. “been waitin’ on it.”

his hand wrapped around your throat from behind, gentle but firm. not squeezin’ — just holdin’. keepin’ you still.

“nah, baby,” he said. “you don’t wanna get broke in public. not for real.”

you whined. actual whined. teeth clenched, hips grindin’ against his hand like you ain’t got no damn sense. your voice came out high and bratty: “why not? scared somebody gon’ see me beggin’ for it?”

he bit down on the back of your shoulder. not hard, just enough to make you flinch.

“nah,” he mumbled against your skin. “i’m scared i ain’t gon’ stop.”

you turned your head just enough to see the way his eyes looked — dark, hooded, patient. stack was never loud with it. never rushed. he could have you cryin’ just by talkin’ slow and fuckin’ deep, and he knew it.

you rolled your hips into his palm again, lips partin’. “so don’t stop.”

his breath caught in his throat.

and then? he moved your bottoms to the side, pulled his hand out real slow, and sucked your slick right off his fingers.

“nasty ass,” he muttered with a little smirk, eyes still on you. “gon’ make me act up in here.”

you looked back over your shoulder, smug as hell. “then do it.”

that was the last straw.

he unzipped his jeans without a word. no rush, no warning. you ain’t even hear it until you felt the weight of him pressin’ between your thighs. you started to turn around, but he pressed a hand flat to your back and bent you just a little more over the cooler.

“nah, stay just like that. you wanna be a show? gon’ be one.”

your mouth opened to say somethin’ smart, but then he slid in — slow, thick, deep. one long stroke, no hesitation. and your ass damn near came on sight.

“fuck—!” your knees buckled. “stack—”

“uh huh. keep that same energy, loudmouth.”

he gripped your waist with both hands now, fuckin’ into you like he meant it. no build up. no foreplay. just deep, steady strokes, long and heavy. like he been waitin’ to remind you who you belonged to.

your hands slipped against the cooler. the glass fogged up with your breath.

“you so fuckin’ wet,” he muttered, jaw tight. “walkin’ round here tryna flex, all this pussy drippin’ down your legs—”

“’cause of you,” you moaned. “’cause you don’t ever fuckin’ touch me when i need it.”

“’cause you don’t know how to act,” he snapped.

you looked back at him through heavy lashes, lips glossed and pouty. “so fix me.”

that man grabbed the back of your neck and started fuckin’ you hard.

no more slow strokes. no more chill. he gripped your hips and pulled you back onto every thrust like he ain’t give a fuck where y’all were. your ass was bouncin’ off his pelvis, that bikini top was barely hangin’ on, and you could hear somebody at the front of the store.

but you didn’t care.

he slapped your ass, deep voice growlin’ in your ear: “you still want attention?”

you nodded frantically. “yes—fuck, yes.”

he chuckled under his breath. “gon’ give it to you.”

his hand slid down, rubbed your clit in tight circles while he kept fuckin’ you rough. deep strokes, heavy grip. he ain’t stop to be sweet. didn’t check in every five seconds. he knew you wanted this. needed it.

your mouth hung open.

“stack—i’m—I’m finna—”

“yeah, go ’head. bust for me, loudmouth.”

you came right then. loud. shook against the cooler, legs tremblin’, toes curlin’ inside your slides. moanin’ his name like a damn warning siren.

and he ain’t even slow down.

he fucked you through that nut like he wanted you to cry. had you pushin’ off his chest, whimperin’ and twitchin’, beggin’ without even sayin’ shit.

“you feel that?” he muttered, grindin’ deeper. “that’s me. every inch.”

you was too gone to respond. just noddin’, tryin’ to breathe, thighs stuck together with your own mess.

he hissed low when your walls squeezed him again. “damn, you tryna make me nut in this bitch.”

you barely managed, “do it…”

“nah, you don’t want that.”

“yes i do. please.”

his grip tightened. hips startin’ to stutter. he let out a sharp breath through his nose, whole body tense behind you, and then he pulled out and stroked himself twice before he came all over the curve of your ass. low groan. real low. sounded like it took everything in him to stay quiet.

you both stood there for a second. breathin’. sweaty. dazed.

“damn,” you muttered, still facedown on the cooler.

he chuckled. real soft. “told you to stop actin’ like that.”

you turned your head, smirkin’. “then stop givin’ me a reason.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐕𝐘𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀.

(do not actually have sex in the public places, you can go to jail. i may or may not know from experience.)

╰┈➤ 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐃𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄.

[itsmedemibones]

"When we received this artifact to archive, we assumed it was a prank from one of the interns. However, several ghost and psychic type Pokemon confirmed this paper has somehow come from ancient Hisui. -- Sinnoh Historical Society"

Clean version under cut

[theegyal]

HUSH SERIES - A Sinners’ Fanfiction

Chapter 1 — ♡

Chapter 2 — ♡

Chapter 3 — ♡

Chapter 4 — ♡

Chapter 5 — ♡

Chapter 6 — ♡

Chapter 7 — ♡

Chapter 8 — ♡

Chapter 9 — ♡

Chapter 10 — ♡

The Tag list

@thelifeoflagab @juniooox @tadjoa @shamansha @brownskincheyenne @freelandgoddess @Ib-xci @blaqgirlmagicyallcantstandit @iammyownlover @stormynovashambler @summrsovrinterlude @prettygirl2800 @puffmamaa @harleycativy @jasssdee1 @itstayleigh @queenofklonnie22 @bigjh @tadjoa @Isc72 @forzaferrariii , @blxckberrie @avidreader73 @partylikemajima @lolalikesgames @ultralspblr @post-woke @jasssdee1 @lizbehave @rkiiives @underated345-blog @thefutureemmywinner @chknnwffls @maddyf22

A/N : This series sets in the 2000s, I apologize in advance for the short / rarely depicted places, cities, states and environments. Since I live in France, I unfortunately know only what I saw, learned and read about. Therefore I’m reluctant to describe in detail (because I don’t want to miss points !! )

If you want to get tagged for this one, please tell me.

I already wrote down the people who asked me to get tag ! Thank you a lot for you all support. And if you want your name to be remove, just tell me friend !

[brownskincheyenne]

“ I spent too many years away from you woman. Years I was craving to just be in your presence.” “You know how bad I just wanted to look atcha.. just get a little glimpse of ya face..pictures don’t do you justice. Not at all Annie “ he chuckled lightly, not because the situation was funny, but because he was desperate, and he needed her to understand that he yearned for her. His spirit called for her in the morning, noon , and night & even in the in between hours. Every time his nose caught a whiff of lavender in the air, not as many times as he would’ve like, his body would quake and break out in a sweat. He needed her to understand that she was in his blood stream.

Annie stared at him hard and long. Head slightly tilted to the right, beautiful almond shaped eyes squinting. She looked at him. Really looked. Searching his inner depths more so than what stood in front of her. Her eyes traveled from the bottom of his designer gym shoes to the top of his freshly cut fade. Minutes or hours could’ve went by to smoke, he didn’t care and he didn’t hide or shrink against her watchful eyes and what felt like a full cavity inspection being conducted upon the inner depths of his soul, he stood there back straight arms falling loosely to each side of his body, he let her search and hopefully find the truth… that he loved her beyond measure & every second away from her hurt like hell, it felt like being trapped in a burning house breathing in soot. And the sight of her alone was his oxygen.

“I know you love me” Annie spoke after while. I can feel it. I felt it when you left me. “ & I won’t lie and say that time didn’t play tricks on my mind, trying to make me feel like I was just a fool for believing you still did.” Annie inhaled deeply & then slowly exhaled. Her breathing was off, her chest rising and falling erratically. She was trying to calm herself but her heart was pounding, Thudding against her ribcage, ready to burst out and give itself to its rightful owner, no apologies necessary. But she couldn’t allow that. So she stood firm.

“I love you too smoke” a gasp caught in his throat at the mention of his street name. Annie loved, was in love with “Elijah” she accepted smoke, and that’s something that made his love for her even more unbreakable. She saw the real him. She knew smoke had to be what the world got from.... took from him. Smoke was his armor. but he was Elijah with her and only with her. In other words he knew he had fucked up.. bad.

“ I.. I needed you too. I needed you when the world got tough and I couldn’t bare it, but you left me.” Annie spoke calmly, her voice didn’t crack but he could feel her heartache with each word she uttered . “How am I suppose to just forgive that huh?” I buried my pain so that you could have something to lean on, so you could fall apart, I held you together even though I wasn’t on stable ground.” Her breathing began to even out, she looked at him, her big brown doe eyes staring deep within his soul. “ I’m scared to give you all of me, not like that… not again.” Her eyes shifted to the ground , momentarily losing the bit of confidence she just had , but She took a shakey breathe, looked him directly in his eye and said “When I needed Elijah, you gave me smoke. That’s something I never thought you’d do.” although she did not cry, the sadness reflected through her eyes. “ ion know who you are anymore, & you don’t know me neither..” she paused and thought “ …… but maybe that’s where we start!? We work on getting to know each other again?”

A Drabble .. idk .. again I’m not a writer.. but I haven’t seen much smoke and Annie in a few days and I’ve been having withdrawals 😭🤦🏾‍♀️ this is a wunmi mosaku & smoke x Annie Stan account tbh.. any way what yall doing for the 4th ? 😂

[koveragewithkiera]

“Let Me In” Pt. 1

Modern AU: Smoke x Annie

This wasn’t supposed to turn into an actual mini-story, but it did lmaaooo. Will be following my idea for the song “Let Me In” by. Tanerelle, but I learned shortly after crafting this idea that I must always include plot with my porn so here we are. This will be part 1 before the good stuff comes, but I hope y’all still enjoy it and that it gets everyone excited for the next part :). I will be uploading the second part of Witchy before that though because I need to get more coordinated with my stories lol.

WC: 3.2k

Characters: Smoke (29), Annie (29), Stack (29), and Dee (OC; 25)

Enjoy! :)

————————

He was back.

After four years, two months, and eleven days, Elijah “Smoke” Moore finally returned home. Home not simply being Mississippi, not simply Clarksdale, but home.

When he’d showed up to his home (or what he believed would still be home) for the first time in half a decade, he was met face to face with the barrel of a wooden Ruger Nine the second the front door opened. It was far from the first time Smoke was placed in such a predicament, but he couldn’t remember the last time it caused him to freeze up. His eyes quickly shifted to meet the holder of the firearm, seeing her eyes piercing into his with a searing glare. He’d been blessed in his youth to witness the many emotions those beautiful eyes could hold, but never had he seen such resentment held in them.

Smoke hadn’t thought to put his hands up, some part of him didn’t feel to be in true danger, but his voice shook slightly as he’d finally spoken after a small stare-off between the two. “How you be?”

As her eyes hardened even further and her finger brushed up against the trigger daringly, he realized those words were clearly not what she wanted to hear. This time, his hands did raise a bit. “Come on now, Annie.”

“Figured you had to be a haint.” His heart stuttered over the sound of her voice, he’d yearned for it so even with the bitter tone of it. She dropped the barrel, but her grip remained the same. “And I don’t take kindly to trespassers.”

Smoke didn’t exactly relax, but he did sigh as she continued to guard the door. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I’m guessin’ you not gone let me in?”

Annie raised a lethal eyebrow his way, not a single ounce of her softening under his gaze. “You should consider yourself lucky I’m lettin’ you leave this property unscathed.”

She took one calm step back, placing the rifle into one hand as her other promptly slammed the door right in his face. Smoke didn’t flinch at the action, just dropped his head with a dry chuckle before walking from the porch and towards his truck. He hadn’t known how he’d expected the interaction to go, but he at the very least hoped for them to speak more than a couple of sentences. And at the very very least, he hoped she’d let him into her home. Their home. A home they’d built with one another, cherished with one another.

This was the first of a long line of rejections he would face in the coming weeks.

———————————————————————

Clarksdale was a small town, and it was absolutely impossible to avoid running into one another, no matter how hard Annie definitely tried. But things didn’t become any easier with how intentional Smoke became about entering her life once more. During the second week of his return, he dined in the very front booth of her restaurant, Mama Lucille’s, for four nights straight with the hope she would eventually cave into even a sliver of an interaction. On the fifth night, he had only just parked his truck when his phone lit up with a notification from his brother.

Stack: So… apparently you just got banned lmao. Dee just told me

Smoke’s lip curls up as his fingers type furiously.

Smoke: How the fuck she know that?

Three little dots pop up and disappear just as quickly.

Stack: Annie texted her. You def ain’t gettin that no time soon 💀

Smoke’s head falls back with an annoyed groan as he tosses his phone to the side. He has half a mind to walk in anyway, maybe pretend to be his twin just to at least make her speak with him. He decides against it, Annie could tell the difference between the two with all five of her senses blocked away. He pulls out of the parking lot with a sigh, already thinking of his next potential plan.

———————————————————————

Stack gets a mysterious allergic reaction about a week later after the siblings have brunch at the diner. It’s nothing dire, but it hits him when they’re on the way home and he realizes his tongue is feeling a bit bigger than normal.

He’s in the middle of blabbing about something neither his sister or brother are paying true attention to when he realizes what’s happening. “The fuck? What the fuck they put in my food?!”

Dee startles a little in the back seat, her eyes rising up from her phone at the clear panic in Stack’s voice. “What you mean? You only had pancakes, bacon, and grits.”

Stack snaps his seatbelt off and starts shuffling around the truck to look for his EpiPen. His panic increases tenfold when he realizes it’s not in there. “My tongue is swelling up, I think they slipped me something!” His words start to get a little muffled as he feels around the swollen muscle. “Them niggas tryna take me out!”

“Relax, aight.” Smoke’s voice isn’t unusually calm, but it’s clear he’s not as shocked as the other two. “We just need to get you that stuff from Annie.”

Stack’s too busy trying to dramatically draw his breaths in (it reminds them of him as a kid) to notice Smoke’s behavior, but Dee clocks it immediately with a howling laugh. “Elijah, you did not!”

Smoke’s eyes remain forward on the road, already en route to Annie’s house. Their house, but he ignores that thought at the moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This draws Stack’s attention as his memory finally clicks the last time he had a reaction without his EpiPen. Smoke was usually the responsible one of the two, but there were two things Stack absolutely never left the house: his blade and his fucking pen. His head whips towards his brother with a shout. “Di’ ‘ou do som’in to my ‘ood?!”

Smoke rolls his eyes defensively. “Nigga, why would I do something to your food?”

Dee checks around the backseat area just in case, her head shaking in amused disappointment. “Cause the last time his EpiPen went missing was when Annie kicked you out the house for a week.”

“‘ou mo’da’fucka’!” Stack’s hands twitch to wring around his brother’s neck. His face just drops into his hands with a distressed groan.

Dee rubs a soothing hand over Stack’s shoulders, trying her damndest to not laugh in his face. Her eyes find Smoke in the rear view mirror. “You're going straight to hell, you know? This won’t kill him, but this gotta be something only the Devil would accept.”

Smoke meets her eyes with a shrug before returning to the road. “I ain’t do shit to his food. They could’ve gave him the wrong order.”

And he wasn’t lying. He didn’t touch a thing on Stack’s plate.

But if he accidentally slipped a bit of his grapefruit juice into Stack’s glass of orange juice, then sue him.

By the time they make it to Annie’s home, Smoke has semi-figured out what exactly he plans to say, with no help from either of his siblings. As he approaches the door, he wonders the possibility of being met with a rifle yet again. But this time, the door opens to an even more devastating sight.

The last time he’d come to her house, he hadn’t been able to properly appreciate the sight of her for long before the door had been shut in his face. This time, he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but.

His eyes first land on the dark jeans that accentuate the curves of her thighs and the long length of her legs. They scroll up slowly to her waist, where a pretty brown belt cinches around it, before reaching the tucked ends of her knitted, sleeveless, cream turtleneck. The entire outfit glues to every slant of her figure, and what a figure she’d grown into over the last few years. Smoke would’ve felt like a voyeur of sorts if he weren’t so familiar with what laid beneath the tight layers.

Her hair was slicked back nicely into a ponytail with a bump at the end, and it swayed as she opened the door. Her tone is clipped and expectant, and if he had to bet, she’d likely seen the exact moment the truck pulled into the driveway. “Yes?”

Smoke sets his shoulders, keeping his eyes on hers with a quieter tone. “Stack’s having a reaction.”

Annie’s gaze only grows more agitated before she dips her head with a heavy scoff. She bites her lip in a necessary attempt of restraint before maneuvering herself to gain full view of the truck. She makes eye contact with the younger twin as he sulks in the passenger’s seat. “Stack!”

Stack shoots up at the sound of her yell, immediately rolling down his window. Dee rolls her own down as well, waving to the other woman with a bright smile. It almost breaks through Annie’s reserve, but she responds to Dee with a polite nod before gesturing her head to Stack. “Come on!”

Stack exits the truck quickly to ensure Annie doesn’t change her mind. Smoke feels a small twinge of hope, but it is swiftly swiped away as Annie blocks the side of the door he attempts to slip through.

Her eyes harden in warning. “Just him.”

Stack freezes up as he balances between the outside and inside of the doorframe. He shrivels as the two stand in a bit of a stare off, but his decision is made as the throbbing of his tongue only worsens. “‘orry ‘moke, ‘ou ‘ook my pen.”

Smoke would feel betrayed if he wasn’t so focused on the way Annie’s eyes dangerously gleamed into his. He was trying his damndest to find something, anything, that would help him break through to her. He doesn’t even fully register that Stack has entered the household, instead finding it increasingly harder to voice his thoughts. To voice anything really.

His lips move before his mind is able to catch up, but it's already too late. “You look beaui-”

She shuts the door before he can even finish the sentence. His jaw tightens, his teeth threatening to crack his golden grills, as he slowly saunters to the truck with an air of defeat. When he gets in the driver’s seat, Dee doesn’t give him her usual shit this time, but she does advise him to take his foot off the metaphorical gas pedal.

“That’s one thing she could never stand about you. You always gotta make something happen as soon as possible. Sometimes, things just gotta come along on their own.”

Smoke shakes his head with sigh, resting back on the headrest. “I don’t want her thinking I gave up.”

Dee shoves his shoulder softly, shutting down that reservation instantly. “She knows you too well for that. Trust me, this isn’t the type of thing you can force ��Lijah.”

———————————————————————

Though Smoke doesn’t say as much, he does in fact take Dee’s words into consideration. When they get home that evening, he makes the final decision to step back from his scheming. It’s an agonizing effort, and as time wears on, it only places his mind even further from being productive at work. Stack takes notice of it first, but only bust his balls over it, throwing quips at his chivalrous act of celibacy and how stupid of a commitment it was to make in the first place. As for Dee, she wouldn’t care too much about his muddled focus if not for how downright pitiful he becomes in the face of business.

Now Dee loves her brothers more than anything on this earth, but even that has its potential limits.

It’s on the fifth week of their return that she bustles into Smoke’s room with a barely-spilling bucket of water in hand. “Get up, Smoke.”

Her older brother grumbles something under his breath about it being too early, pulling the comforter further along his body. It’s enough of an answer for her. She empties the bucket in one swoop, and Smoke’s limbs flail about in an image comparable to that of a cat escaping a bathtub. A loud thud echoes around the room as he falls from the bed in a tangle of soaked sheets, coughing and heaving from his sister’s sick attempt of practical water-boarding.

His head finally manages to submerge from the sheets, his words fighting to escape through his shaken demeanor. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

It doesn't deter his little sister in the slightest, her hand placed on a pointed hip. “We’re going to the supermarket.”

Smoke reaches for his phone, his eyes widening in the face of Dee’s audacity. “It ain’t even 9 am yet!”

Dee’s voice remains steady as she explains the plan. “Annie goes to the supermarket on Broughton St. at 9:15 every Saturday morning before the rush comes at 10:30. We need to leave here at 8:45, you have 30 minutes to get ready.” She turns to walk out of the room with that, but he stops her just as she reaches the door.

“Wait, wait.”

She turns back to him with an unfazed expression. He’s still gaining his own bearings due to the last fifteen minutes, but he has to ask this first. “Why are you doing this? I thought you said not to scheme.”

Dee scoffs. “That was before I remembered something I can’t stand about either of y’all.”

Smoke’s face scrunches in confusion. “What?”

Dee’s eyes squint in annoyance. “Y’all are fucking miserable without one another, and you make everybody else just as miserable instead of just talking or fucking it out like normal people.”

They make it to the market a little earlier than Annie but go ahead and start shopping around. Dee takes advantage of the new delivery of fresh produce and sends Smoke off to look through that section while she moves through the other items of her grocery list. He tries his best not to, but every thirty seconds or so, he finds himself glancing at the time on his phone. Annie would’ve gotten there about ten minutes ago, and he knew his woman to be the punctual type when it came to her routine. Ten more minutes go by of him appearing to look through the ripeness of the seasonal peaches before he almost caves into just searching around for her. Then a laugh, that laugh that hadn’t graced his ears in a torturous amount of time, sounds just to the far right of him.

Smoke’s head whips towards the direction, his eyes landing on their target the second he looks her way. And there she is, standing in the middle of the bread section adorned in a white, patterned sundress that falls just to her knees. She’s speaking animatedly with an older, shorter woman, and it’s the most expressive Smoke has seen of her since coming home. It makes him freeze in place, simply wanting to watch her like this during the chance he has to do so. The way her eyes scrunch up when her lips curl into that radiant smile… it will never fail to take his very breath away. He looks at her as if it’s the first time he’s ever looked at her period, and he’s hit with a sudden moment of deja vu.

At 15, Smoke had choked and stepped into the nearest alleyway when she began walking his way.

At 29, Smoke stands still as his mind and soul scream for her to turn his way.

When she finally does so, his heart cracks at the way her smile diminishes in recognition. But it can’t help but beat a little harder when she doesn’t immediately look away.

The older woman in front of her takes notice of Annie’s change in attention, and when she turns to the direction of Annie’s eyes, Smoke is barely able to register the sound of a squeal.

“Why is that my favorite math student?!” The older lady screams just loud enough to be heard, but not enough to disturb the other shoppers.

Her exclamation pulls the two of them from their momentary daze, and Smoke can’t help but give the older woman a small grin once he recognizes her voice. He walks towards the two women with a polite nod. “Ms. Ruby.”

“Oh, it is you!” Ms. Ruby pulls him into a tight embrace, and he has to bend down a good bit to comfortably adjust to her. She pulls away with a squeeze on his biceps. “I was afraid I was mistaking you and your brother for a second, it's been years!”

“Yes ma’am, it has.” Smoke masks his strained tone, trying not to keep straying his gaze Annie’s way.

Ms. Ruby looks between the two with clear joy, the underlying tension in the air falling straight over her head. “This is just the biggest coincidence! Running into my two star students in the same morning!”

Annie’s smile isn’t as genuine now, and Smoke picks up the sarcasm easily. “Yes ma’am, it is.”

Ms. Ruby clearly doesn’t notice as she brings her attention to Smoke. “Well, what is it you’ve got going on now? I feel like I heard about you being engaged at some point.”

This causes Smoke to stutter uncharacteristically, and he can’t help the way his gaze wanders between the two women. “Oh, well yes I-”

Annie cuts him off with a strict tone. “It broke off a few years ago.”

Smoke crumbles under the weight of the statement paired with the hidden glare behind her eyes. He knew her too well.

Ms. Ruby sends him a look of pity, giving his arm another squeeze. “Oh. Well, I am so sorry to hear that Elijah.”

Annie clears her throat abruptly, smiling warmly towards Ms. Ruby. “If y’all will excuse me, I’ve got some more errands to run. It was wonderful seeing you, Ms. Ruby.” Her smile twitches downwards as she gives Smoke a onceover. “Smoke.”

But before she can make her escape, Ms. Ruby grabs hold of Annie’s hand. “Oh well wait, I would just love to have brunch with you two! I leave town tomorrow evening, but maybe we could try in the afternoon?”

Smoke clasps his hands together as Annie’s grip tightens on her basket handle. The two silently communicate for a little before Annie finally takes the leap.

“Actually, I think Smoke might be b-”

Smoke cuts her off before his mind can fully catch up to speed. “I’ll be free.”

Annie’s head whips to him in shock, but before she can reprimand him, Ms. Ruby is already more than excited. “Amazing! Annie? It’ll give me a chance to try that food of yours since I wasn't able to visit your restaurant.”

Smoke watches as she softly bites her tongue, a tendency of hers whenever she’d been holding a few choice words from spilling. She grins harshly, her lips puckering as she responds. “I would love to, Ms. Ruby.”

Ms. Ruby laughs gleefully. “Excellent! Alright, I won’t hold y’all no longer!” She gives them both two quick hugs, waving as she walks away towards the produce section. “I’ll see y’all then!”

They each hold their breath, remaining quiet as she walks away. Once she’s out of ear shot, Smoke turns to Annie with an apology on his tongue. “Annie, we don’t-”

Annie doesn’t give him the chance to say more. “Be there at 1.” She struts off a few aisles away without another word. Smoke takes a self-encouraging deep breath, just barely hiding his excited grin as he walks with a small pep in his step to find his sister.

————————

Hope y’all liked it! The next part is going to be very very fun to write hehe. But wish me luck because I’m deadass nervous lmao. 🫶🏾

Til next time!

Taglist:

@thelifeoflagab , @omgffs , @bigjh , @championshipshade , @mindyouthisismyaccount , @brownskincheyenne , @lizbehave , @hdfen2474 , @sweetarchivistsiege , @strawberrylemonades-stuff , @whysoceerious , @chknnwffls , @thefutureemmywinner , and @partylikemajima

[ultralspblr]

LET THE MORNING DECIDE (PRT 1)

Modern AU: Sinners

Stack x OC x Smoke

Mature Audiences only (18+) // EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

.・���゜・.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.・゜゜・．

Saturday 7:23am

There she was…well, there they were. All three of them. Last night felt like a dream. Lena had always been so prudent. Never in a million years did she ever think that she'd wake up wedged between the two men she'd loved longest and wanted most in her life.

What started as a fun game of Truth or Dare between friends quickly turned into a passionate night where Truth met Desire. Now awake, a million thoughts swirled in her mind. Her muscles ached from hours of intertwined limbs and wandering mouths. She was exhausted, but in the sweetest way possible.

She'd been up for several minutes, just staring as dawn began to spill through the skylight above them. With it came the warm tinge of regret. Not the type of regret that carried guilt or shame, but the kind that created unease from an impending storm that had yet to come.

Smoke and Stack slept on, facing her, their arms draped across her waist as if one slackened grip might let her disappear. Lena laid there, breathed them in, and let herself feel wanted just for a minute before she recounted in her mind the steps that led to her present situation.

.・゜゜・.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.・゜゜・．

Friday 12:53pm

Lena couldn't wait to clock out. It was Friday. Payday. Most people didn't even bother to show up to the office because of the long weekend ahead. She could have wfh today, but she liked the silence.

Her grey cubicle sat in the furthest corner of the room, closest to the windows, but miles away from the exit. She usually kept her desk clutter free aside from the leaning tower of documents threatening to slide off her desk. At its center sat her computer; to the right, a fake plant propped up a cracked frame holding a weathered photo of her and the twins.

Lena had met Smoke and Stack back in tenth grade study hall, when she signed up as a volunteer tutor. They were lanky then, still growing into themselves, but even back in high school, they stood out.

Smoke, the older twin, was silent, a boy of very few words, but carried himself with a type of confidence that made people notice him whenever he entered a room. Action was everything with him, and what was understood didn't need to be spoken out loud.

Stack, however, was the more boisterous twin. Quick minded and slick talking, he could charm the panties off a nun. He was the type of person who knew how to work the room and everyone who was in it. Always there to lighten the mood or flip the energy on a dime.

What started as a few study sessions turned into a regular thing, and then something deeper. By the end of the semester, Lena wasn’t just tutoring them; she was their go-to girl, and they'd been inseparable ever since.

Lena had been working diligently until her phone buzzed. Stack's name lit up her phone's notifs, and sent a surge of excitement down her spine.

1:12pm - StackMo: Wyd??? 👀

1:15pm - Lena: At work, bout to get some lunch w/Chelle. Waiting on her to come down so we can head out together😋 Wyd?

1:17pm - StackMo: Just got up. Bout to pick up me and Smoke's fits for tonight.😏

1:18pm - SmokeMo: NIGGA, YOU JUST GETTIN UP? You should've been up!! We got shit to do!!! I'm over here at the club calling yo' damn phone cause I need you down here.

1:22pm - StackMo: 🙄....Anyways....U comin to the party t'night Lena? 👀

1:23pm - Lena: Oh yea, HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y'ALL 🎂 🥳 🎉

1:25pm - StackMo: Thank ya, thank ya 🙂‍↕️

1:29pm - SmokeMo: NIGGA DO YOU NOT SEE ME CALLIN U!!! ANSWER DA PHONE FOOL!!!!!

1:30pm - StackMo: So U comin to the party or nah 🤪?

1:31pm - Lena: Yea, I'm comin 🤗 What's the dress code?

1:35pm - StackMo: Fly N Freaky. We comin as fly. Ladies are comin as freaky 😈

1:36pm - Lena: Oh 😶...Let me see if I got something suitable in my closet 😅 lol

1:37pm - SmokeMo: Don't worry bout the dress code. Just come as yoself. Besides, you'll only be celebratin one twin, as my worser half will be dead IF HE DON'T GET HIS BLACK ASS OUT THAT GODDAMN BED!!!!

1:38pm - StackMo: C...U DTM 🙄… I'm already omw🤨

1:39pm - SmokeMo: .... Nigga, I see yo’ location.

Lena couldn't help but laugh to herself as she let the bickering twins continue to bicker like two grumpy old men. She didn’t even notice Chelle walking up until her friend flopped into the cubicle next to her.

Lena had the biggest smile plastered to her face.

“Girl, what's got you smiling so big?”

“The twins are actin’ up in the chat again. Today's their birthday, and they were asking to see if I was coming to their party or not.”

“And you are going, right?”

Chelle's eyes narrowed like she already knew the answer.

“I'm going, I just gotta find something appropriate to wear.”

“APPROPRIATE?! Ain' shit appropriate about them niggas. I wouldn't be surprised if the theme was to come in nothing but glitter....just naked”

“Well....Stack did say the theme was Fly N Freaky.”

Chelle rolled her eyes.

“Oh Lord. If I had a dollar for every freaky-ass theme they came up with. Remember when the cops showed up last year and ended up staying for the party?”

Lena chuckled, cheeks turning red. A time was had that night, and she remembers every part of it. She was proud of her boys.

Most people had known the SmokeStack twins for years, their reputation often preceding them, and not in the best light. With the advent of opening their nightclub, they've taken a bad rep and flipped it on its head.

Smoke managed the business. He drew up the plans, closed the deals, and ran the operations. Stack was the pitchman. He found the funds, charmed investors, and promoted the club. In no time, the twin's business that they started a few years ago had taken off.

Chelle leaned in, grinning slyly at her friend.

“Mmhmm...So which twin you 'gon be going home with tonight?”

Lena straightened up her back instantly.

"Neither one! It's not even like that with them."

“Mmmhmm…”

“I’m serious!”

She said, looking away.

“Smoke said I could just come as myself... but...”

“But?”

Chelle pressed, nosy as hell.

“...I just… don't want to look outta place, is all. Nothing more, nothing less."

Chelle threw her hands up in protest.

"Fine, I'll let it go....for now. So what are you going to wear?"

Lena, now looking at her friend with hesitation, hands fidgeting together, before she blurts out her answer.

“I was just gonna put something on from my closet.”

Chelle gave her a pointed look. That “girl, now you know better” stare. And honestly, she wasn't wrong.

Lena was far from being a fashionista. She wore her glasses out of habit, not need, and stuck to a neutral wardrobe: linen V-neck shirts, slacks or mid-rise boyfriend jeans, cardigans or blazers she paired to pull everything together… or to blend in. The only real showstoppers were her accessories: shoes, bags, and jewelry collected during her debutante days, tucked in her closet like old memories waiting for their second life.

They held the silence until Lena broke.

She got up, leaned on Chelle’s shoulder, arms locking onto hers, looking up to her in a pleading manner. Chelle looked down into Lena's puppy dog eyes, both women breaking into a giggle.

Chelle exhaled, chuckling at her friend's persuasive front.

“I'll help. But it's going to take A LOT of work. So grab your purse, and leave that laptop here. The work day is done, and the weekend is calling us."

Lena squealed, locking arms with her friend as they headed for the exit and out into the afternoon sun.

.・゜゜・.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.・゜゜・．

Friday 4:50pm

“Now bih. I know that is not what you decided to pick out. Go put that back!”

At this point Chelle started to get irritated with her friend. The two had spent the last three hours going from store to store at Clarksdale's only mall. When Chelle signed on to help Lena out, she didn't think it would take almost all afternoon, but she should have known better.

They were inside Club Juke, the raunchiest boutique in Clarksdale. The walls were lined with outfits backless, blinged with rhinestones, and some outfits looked more like statements than fabric.

Lena mumbled.

“What's wrong with this one?”

Chelle pinched the bridge of her nose, lips pursed as to hold back from cussing her friend out.

“What's NOT wrong with it?!”

Of all the things Lena could have picked out, somehow she chose a beige, sleeveless, turtleneck, ankle length, body contouring maxi dress. Chelle was confused as to how she was even able to find that dress here.

Chelle paused and leaned against the round clothing rack as if to collect her composure.

“Lena baby, you gotta work with me! You're not going brunching with your mama and her church friends. You’re angling for two birthday boys and a room full of Clarksdale’s baddest.”

Chelle didn't lie. Smoke and Stack were always attractive men and never had issues garnering wandering glances from women. Stack rotated so many women in and out, you'd think he was selling ass. Smoke wasn't shy either. Unlike Stack, he held a steady stream of visitors who came to "catch up" whenever they passed through town.

Lena’s shoulders curled inward. She clutched the hanger like a shield

Chelle's face began to soften. Her lips parted into a frown as her downturned eyes pierced Lena's saddened gaze. 

“I just want you to stop being scared and make that leap before it's too late. Better you warm their beds than some random filly”

Lena’s laugh came thin.

“...Beds…Plural…Classy...”

“Facts.”

Chelle’s gaze flicked to the dress.

“Put Sister Wife Beige back, and let’s find you something more enticing.”

The levity of Chelle's words sounded harsh, but Lena knew it came from a place of tough love. She didn't know when it happened, but over time, feelings for both twins had settled deep within her heart. She secretly loved when Stack would teasingly flirt with her, even though she met his comments with a simple nudge or an eye-roll and fastly changed the subject.

As for Smoke, she looked forward to feeling the weight of his gaze, piercing every part of her being. She’d avoid eye contact just to keep from unraveling, yet from the corner of her eye, she could always feel him watching her.

They were her only friends, besides Chelle. Crossing that line was out of the question, but lately, Lena had felt uneasy about their relationship. Their schedules were packed, their time scarce, and now she had to schedule a damn calendar invite just to hug them.

“EARTH TO LENA!!!”

Chelle snapped, drawing attention from everyone in the store, including the cashier in the front.

“Y'all can go back to shoppin'. Nothin’ to see here”

She then turned back around, eyes focused on Lena.

“Girl, are you okay? I've been trying to get your attention for the longest. Got me screamin’ in these people's store.”

Lena, now out of her daze, was now focused on her friend holding up a gaudy outfit.

“Oh, hell no…..No……NO!!”

"OH HELL YES!!!"

“How would I even put that on? There's barely any material there. It's just straps…and rhinestones…”

“Exactly! That's all you really need for a Fly N Freaky ass party.”

“I'm NOT buying that, and I'm certainly not wearing it.”

“YOU ARE WEARING THIS! Don't worry about buying anything, because it's on my man today.”

Chelle held up a platinum credit card with a name inscribed on the front that did not seem to belong to her.

“Does Chance know you have his credit card?” 

“Girl, what HIS is MINE, and what's MINE is MINE. That's how relationships work.”

Lena busted out in laughter.

“Oh,and before I forget…..”

Chelle’s eyes gestured down.

“What?”

Chelle gestured again. This time, she looked directly at Lena's pants. Blinking intensely.

"Wha-? Are you having a stroke?? What are you doing?"

Chelle sucked her teeth. Tired of friends obliviousness.

“Lord, pray for her!....your situation..is it...SITUATED??”

"OH!!!...Well…"

Chelle stops Lena before she can even answer.

Exactly! So quit your whining! I’m buying this outfit for you, YOU’RE GONNA WEAR IT, and that's the end of it. Besides, we still have to tame that ‘situation’ before the party.

“Fine!”

Defeated but buzzing, Lena followed her to the register. Every step a mix of dread, excitement, and something she half expected all along.

[lilbitt]

Blurred Lines

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore X Annie ~ A modern AU

A/N: Soooo, hi y’all! I did another thing 🥹. The way Sinners has me writing more than I have in like years is…crazy lmao. Anyways. Since this is clearly something I’m kinda doing now, I wanted to write something with multiple characters so I can get better at balancing movement, multiple people and personalities, really setting a scene etc. I figured this could be a fun way to work on that andddd to explore Stack and Annie from a younger (college age) modern perspective. It’s nothing too serious, 7.5k words but really not that long. I was just playing around and trying to get better at some things I struggle with. Enjoy 🫶🏾 or don’t 😬.

C/W: Cursing, Smut (lazy smut at that, I was tired), MDI

Also, I’m not gonna tag anyone cause idkkk if yall wonna be tagged in AU stuff or not 👐🏾

A one-off comment is what started it all. Messy, meaningless, and made by drunk ass Pearline. 

Well, she wasn’t drunk yet. But she would be soon, at the rate she was going. 

“Y’all not hot? I’m hot as hell,” Pearline frowned at Annie and June, pulling at her collar to get some air circulating, as if the graphic tee she donned wasn’t cut, tied right under her breast, and displaying the entirety of her toned torso. The dark skinned beauty brought her red cup back to her lips and frowned harder, when a whole lotta nothing came out of it. 

June snorted. “You hot, cause that’s yo’ second cup of whatever the hell Stack done mixed up in there,” she raised a brow. “We done only been here for an hour P. You supposed to sip that shit, not chug it.” 

By here, June meant the Airbnb Smoke and Stack booked out for the weekend. 

It was July, dead in the middle of summer, and the heat wave that’d hit Mississippi had brought a different type of hot. 100 degree temperatures that had everybody in the Delta either changing clothes three times a day or hunkering down in the house, under the AC, like hermits. Everybody was agitated, everybody was restless, and the twins were, of course, capitalizing off it. 

Twenty-five at the door in exchange for music, food, company, and drank, all inside and out from under the sun. The ‘entry fee’ was steep as hell, but people were just going crazy enough to show up anyways, and the place was gradually getting full, bodies flowing through the door where Cornbread sat, yapping and collecting payment. 

Wayne thumped through the speakers set up in the living area—not so loud that people had to scream to make conversation—but loud enough, ensuring the words could be heard and the crowd could catch a vibe. 

Street nigga baby, I’m in love with the gravel.. 

Money gives me life like the man wit’ a gavel..

I’m strapped at home.. 

I’m strapped when I travel.. 

I pop my truck and make them bitches spread like cattle… 

Annie mouthed along to the words unconsciously—this was mixtape Wayne—a song she recognized instantly and one she wouldn’t even know if somebody didn’t have her listening to it in his car every other night. 

Her head bopped, eyes leaving Pearline for a second and flitting around the room. 20 somethings’, with low eyes and red solo cups in hand filled the spacious living area. A few were holding up the wall, but most were laughing, eating, dancing—a lil two step or a light twerk, nothing too crazy yet. It felt like summer, without the heatstroke, and everybody back home from college was ready to act up. 

Annie’s full lips twitched upwards. One thing ‘bout them twins, they knew how to throw a party. 

“This anit a funeral, J. You need to chug a cup down with me, and you do too Annie! Why y’all letting a bad bitch drink on her own?!”  

At the sound of her name, Annie turned her attention back to Pearline. And then rolled her eyes at the pout on her friends face. 

“Ima get me a drink,” June defended herself, slapping her hand on her chest. “I gotta eat first. Unlike you, I won’t be throwing up later in front of all these niggas that’s in here.” J looked around the room pointedly, long knotless braids flowing with the turn of her head. 

Pearline stopped pouting and looked with her, sitting up a little where the three sat on the couch.

Annie shook her head in amusement. If you needed to get P’s attention, that was the way to do it. 

Her friends eyes dragged around the room slow, like she was scouting. 

“Hm. The niggas is outside huh?” 

And they was. Grills flashing, muscles on display, roaming eyes, and slick hands. Slicker mouths. Talking shit, passing blunts, licking lips like they was ready to start choosing.

“Hell yeah they is and I see one I like.” June was eyeing a dread head in the corner. Dark skin, thick build, tattoos up and down his arms. He looked like he’d put you through the mattress, then put you through hell afterwards. And that was just her friends type. 

“Come on Annie.” J was standing, adjusting the skin tight jeans wrapped around her thick thighs. “P right for once. Let’s get a drink so I can come back and see ‘bout my man.” 

Annie laughed out loud, lips splitting and pretty teeth on display.  

“You got issues J.” But she got up, the three friends moving through the decent sized crowd slowly but steadily—unbothered, uninterested, and each fine as hell in their own right. 

Annie figured she’d get a drink too. To sip on, while she vibed and people watched, as she normally did at parties. Keeping an eye on her crazy ass friends. And waiting tell it got just a little later, when everybody was occupied, to get what’d she really came here for. 

The kitchen was less crowded, people grabbing food from the aluminum pans spread  on the counters and dipping out, rather than lingering. There was a small group though, seated at the kitchen table, slamming down cards so hard, Annie didn’t know how the wood hadn’t caved in. 

“Draw 4 nigga!” Stack slammed a card down. “And draw another 4 after that nigga!” He leaned up out his chair, back to them and big hand landing on the table, messing up whatever piles had been there before. “And while you at it,” he threw his last card, “Draw 4 more. Uno out bitch! And I want my money!” 

“Nigga, you cannot throw all them down at once!” 

“We playing stacks nigga! Now run me my shit!” 

The group at the table sucked their teeth simultaneously, tossing their cards down, and talking over each other to complain about how Stack was cheating, while the younger twin just fell back in his chair satisfied, smirk on his face. 

“Yeah yeah. Cry to y’all mufuckin’ mamas.” He turned his head towards his brother. “Why these niggas act like they ‘ont know who I am Smoke?” 

The older Moore was leaned back against the counter, plate in hand and fork full of food, while he shook his head. Stack’s ass was definitely cheating. Somehow. Had them niggas at the table emptying they pockets too. Smoke was just hoping they was too dumb to figure it out. He wanted to chill tonight, not have to lay a nigga on they ass. 

June eyed the spectacle in front of her, smart mouth moving like always. “Shouldn’t y’all be playing Spades or something? You know, an adults game.” 

At her voice, all eyes landed on them. 

Smokes head causally turned towards the entrance of the kitchen, fork sliding between his lips, while the group at the table looked up. Stack turned last, head twisting to look over his shoulder, smug still written all over his face and smirk only growing when he saw who was standing there. 

His eyes hit Annie first, gaze flicking over her quick. Real quick and real thorough. His gaze started at the top of her head, where her 4 day old twist out was finally framing her face the way she liked, and dragged down the rest of her body. She’d kept it casual. A brown graphic tee that hugged her heavy chest and soft stomach was stylishly tucked into a pair of denim shorts—light wash, tight, and wrapped around her dimpled thighs. She’d thrown on some low top brown and yellow dunks to complete the fit, and the chunky gold bracelets and necklace she wore elevated the casual vibe just enough for the occasion. Her dark brown skin was moisturized and glowing, and a swipe of gloss had her lips shining. Simple, but cute. Annie never really did too much. Frankly, because she didn’t have too.

Stack’s gaze flicked back to her face, held her stare briefly, very briefly, just long enough for her to read the I see you all up in his eyes. Long enough for her to blink slow back and let him read the I know you do all up in hers. A 10 second interaction, at the most, that felt like 30 minutes. 

And then it was over. And they moved around each other. Like they always did. 

Annie walked further into the kitchen, attention now on Smoke, while Stack opened his mouth to go back and forth with J. 

“Girl,” Annie heard him suck his teeth behind her. “You anit never too old to get yo ass whooped in some Uno. Put some money on the table and I’ll do you just how I did these niggas.” 

Annie rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to speak to the more…sensible twin instead.

“Hey Smoke,” she smiled small, fingers dancing in the air as she waved at him. 

He’d sat his plate down on the counter, had a red cup of his own at his lips now, and took a long drink before answering. 

“Wussup Annie?” 

“This heat.” 

His lips quirked, head tilting in agreement. 

“You anit lying. That’s why we got y’all here though,” he twirled a finger in the air. “So y’all can get out that heat.” 

Annie snorted. “Y’all got us here, so y’all can make money. 25 at the door not crazy Smoke?”

He shrugged, “Stack even let you pay that?” 

He said it low, voice only loud enough to be heard by them, and his tone was casual. Not his eyes though. His eyes watched her close, like he was waiting for her to slip. 

Annie paused for a beat, eyes squinting in surprise before she could catch it. Surprise at the question and that he knew to ask it.

She considered him. 

The twins were identical. To a certain extent. Broad shouldered, smooth brown skin, thick lips, coffee brown eyes — even had the same deep ass dimples. So, twins for sure. Smoke had this…way about him though. This carefulness about him. A stillness that Stack just…didn’t have. The older Moore was calculating in a way that somebody in their 20’s shouldn’t be. In a way that, unlike his brother, he didn’t try to hide. 

He watched her and Annie watched him. And then she laughed. Just as casually as he’d asked the question. 

“What would yo brother be giving me special treatment for? I paid just like everybody else.” And she had. With the money Stack sent her. But they weren’t talking semantics. 

“You know something I don’t?” She tilted her head, big eyes blinking like she was genuinely confused. 

Smoke watched her for a second more, lips quirking again. Then hmmed low in his throat, shaking his head, and reaching for his cup. “Nah. Just running my mouth.” 

“Stack does that enough for both of y’all Smoke,” she teased, to cover up how thrown off she still was. “No need to join in.” 

He tilted his cup her way as if to say ‘touché’ then took another sip. Annie continued her rounds in the kitchen. 

Giving side hugs to the couple of people she knew sitting at the table and waving sweetly to the others she didn’t. 

She got to Stack last. 

He was waiting for her, leaned back in the chair, legs spread wide, grin on his lips spreading big when she looked over at him. Annie let out a heavy sigh, like she was fed up already, lips tugging upwards even as she tried to fight it. 

“Hi Stack.” Her tone was as flat as she could get it.

It made him grin wider. “Wussup Annie?” He dragged his eyes down her again. Said something, just to say something. 

“I like yo shoes.” 

“Thank you, Stack.” 

“Mhm. You welcome.” He licked his lips, arms spreading wide. “What you so far for? Errbody else done got a hug. Where mine?” 

June snickered under her breath. “Where my hug at is crazy.” 

Annie looked him up and down like she was considering it. He was dripped in less color than he usually was—sturdy frame wrapped in a White Burberry tee, black jeans, and white and black Alexander McQueens. Everything else was business as usual though — facial hair neat and trimmed, thick lips moisturized and smirking, fresh cut with a lining so sharp it looked like it’d hurt to get. Annie eyed the chain glinting around his neck, no different than the glint coming from the ice on his wrist and in his ears.

Even when Stack kept it simple he did too much. 

Annie shifted.

And he looked good doing it. 

She finished her appraisal. 

“I’ll pass. Don’t nobody know where yo hands been.” 

Stack scoffed. “I’m the cleanest nigga in here.” 

“Said no one. Ever.” 

Pearline and June cackled and Stack just shook his head. Licked his lips again and watched her walk back over to her lil friends. Watched all that ass move in them shorts. 

This was how they played. Stack flirting, as Stack was known to do, and Annie acting like she anit like it. 

She was surprised it hadn’t gotten old yet. 

“Whatever girl,” he sucked his teeth. “Y’all get a plate?” 

He asked the question to all three of them but his eyes were on Annie. 

Her nose wrinkled instinctively. 

“You know I don’t—”

“Eat other people cooking, yeah yeah,” he waved her off. “Ms.C cooked that fish and chicken for us though, and that Mac and cheese, and she made that nasty ass red velvet cake you like, so go on head and eat. 

“Anit gone have my money going to waste girl,” he said the last part almost like an afterthought. Mostly, cause it was one.  

Annie’s whole face lit up, cheeks lifting, soft brown eyes growing warmer, smile lines appearing in the corners of her mouth. 

“Y’all got Ms. C to cook?” Stack shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. Annie cheesed harder. “Nigga you might can get that hug after all.”

And if you weren’t before, you definitely getting some pussy now. 

Ms. C was an older black lady who’d been selling plates for as long as Annie could remember. She was just as mean as she was funny and she cooked like it was her first love. Didn’t have any desire to turn a labor of love into a business though. Not an official one at least. She didn’t cook for big events, unless it was something going on at the church, and she didn’t strive to open a restaurant, no matter how many people told her she’d be a guaranteed success. No, Ms. C kept it simple. She cooked right in her own kitchen, let the neighborhood spread the word of the current days menu, and sold what she had until it ran out. If the food was gone by the time you stopped by, that was just too bad. You’d have to catch her the next day. Annie just knew Ms.C made the twins pay a pretty penny to cook all that fish and chicken, just cause she could probably. Later, she’d ask Stack what it’d costed them. 

Right now though, she was about to fuck this food up. 

Stack watched as Annie practically floated across the kitchen towards the counter and shook his head. The stupidest shit made her happy. He cleared his throat, swiping a hand down his face, and forcing the soft smile trying to break out, away. He anit know where that was coming from, but it wasn’t meant for anyone to see. Not even Annie.

Annie was paying Stack no mind. She’d reached the counters, where Smoke still stood leaning, and eyed the food. 

The Mac and cheese had a nice dent in it, and getting some quickly became first priority. 

She started to step back, head turning to look for the paper plates. 

And then promptly tripped over her shoe lace. 

“Oh shit!” The words fell from her mouth as gravity did what gravity does. Annie was falling backward so fast, she didn’t even have time to try and grab the counter. Her eyes squeezed tight, body tensing, bracing for the impact she knew was coming, when two big hands yanked her away from the kitchen tile and into a hard chest instead. 

“Oomph!” The sound was forced out her throat, as all her softness slammed into muscle. It didn’t even feel like her savior flinched, body steady and solid as ever, big hands gripping her hips like they just wanted to make sure she was steady. 

Annie’s hands instinctively came up to clutch at the arms that’d stopped her fall, heart thumping louder than the base in the living room, and eyes flying open when she realized she wasn’t about to bust her ass.

Smoke was looking down at her, lips frowned up and thick brows furrowed. 

“Damn Annie, you good??” 

She laughed shakily, squeezing at his arms tighter, blood still racing like her body didn’t quite believe it was safe yet.

“Shit Smoke,” she shook her head. “Forget what I said earlier. You want 25 more for just saving my life?” 

He laughed, hands squeezing the soft of her hips. “Just tie yo shoe and don’t bust yo head open on this floor and we good.” 

Annie nodded. “I can do that.” She squeezed his arms once more. “Thank y—”

“Ohhh I like this.” 

Smoke and Annie blinked, heads turning to face Pearline who stood with another cup in her hand and a smirk on her lips. 

Annie’s brow furrowed. 

“Like what?” 

“This,” Pearline dragged a finger between Smoke and Annie. “Y’all.” 

Her friend squinted like she was trying to figure something out, then nodded her head like she’d found the answer. 

“Yeah. Hell yeah. June you see this?” P glanced over at June and kept on talking. “You always saying you single cause can’t nobody handle you Annie but the way he just swept you off yo feet, girrllll,” P fanned herself. “Hell yeah. He can handle all that.” 

June sighed long and hard like a mother at their wits end with her child. But then she shrugged. “She a lil touched but she anit wrong,” her eyes jumped between Smoke and Annie. “And y’all both got that strong silent shit going. And y’all both fine. It makes a lot of sense, to be honest. I like it. Let’s do it.” 

She said it like it was as simple as that. 

Smoke blinked at both of them like they were slow and then brought his eyes back to hers. 

“You good?” He squeezed her hips. 

Annie nodded and he let go. She let her hands slide away from where’d they been gripping his arms and stepped back. Carefully. 

“Thank you, Smoke,” she smiled quick. And then turned her head towards her ‘friends’, lips dropping. “Y’all both need help. And I’m getting new friends, ‘cause why is nobody asking if I’m okay? June, I expect more from you at least.” 

June laughed, “Shiitt, I know you okay, the way Smoke snatched yo ass up. You was just fine.” 

Pearline nodded emphatically. “And was!” 

Annie started to roll her eyes, not even bothering to supply them with a response, crouching down instead to tie her shoe.

She double knotted the laces on both shoes for good measure and raised back up, even more intent on getting her Mac and cheese now that’d she’d almost died for it, when something made her glance across the kitchen. And pause. 

Stack was staring at her so hard it felt like he was looking through her. Staring at her and Smoke. Eyes jumping from Annie, to behind her where his brother stood, and back again. 

She frowned. He wasn’t slouched anymore, body leaned forward now, muscles tense like he’d been about to get up and try to catch her. Eyes moving, like he was trying to catch something else now. 

Annie’s head tilted in question, confused at the look on his face. No smirk in sight, head cocked, brows furrowed like ‘what the fuck y’all got going on.’ 

Shifting from behind her made Annie turn her head and face Smoke, who was crossing his arms, still leaned against the counter, eyebrows raised and looking right back at Stack like ‘nigga what’.

Something passed between them, some twin telepathy shit Annie didn’t understand, and then Stack sucked his teeth. 

The sound made Annie turn her head back towards him. It felt like she was getting whip lash. 

“Unt unt, what y’all got going on?” 

Pearline asked the question, nose wrinkling like she was personally offended at the awkwardness now wafting through the kitchen and killing her good vibes. 

Behind her Smoke let out a breath. “I anit bout to play with y’all. I’m bout to go spark this shit.” He moved around Annie, a blunt in his hands that wasn’t there three seconds ago, and left the kitchen without looking back, like he couldn’t be bothered. 

Annie and Stack looked at each other for another beat. 

And then Stack shook his head, smirk crawling back on to his face, all teeth. 

“Anit shit going on P.” 

Annie prided herself on being smart. Thought of it as one of her best qualities actually — being able to make rational, sensible decisions, in a world where common sense wasn’t all that common.

At the moment though, she was questioning just exactly where her sense had been when she’d started fucking with Elias Moore in the first place. For the past hour, Stack had been working the crowd. Weaving in and out of people—laughing, talking, two stepping like he didn’t have a care in the world. And very pointedly not looking in her direction while he was doing it.

Annie shifted on the couch where she sat, taking the weight off her left ass cheek and putting more on her right, sipping the last of what was in her cup slow, and dragging her eyes away from where Stack stood laughing opened mouth at something, in favor of searching for her friends instead. 

She spotted P in seconds, standing in the middle of a crowd, fingers snapping and glossy lips popping as she rapped along to Trina’s ‘Fuck Boy’ like she was putting on a personal performance. Despite the annoyance that’d been gradually building in her chest, Annie couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Exactly P. Pop yo shit,” she mumbled the words softly to herself, seeking out J next. It took her a few minutes, but eventually she spotted her friend in the corner, hugged up with the dread head from earlier, finger twirling around her braids and smile on her face like she was sweet as pie. 

Annie was glad they were having a good time, because her mood was quickly depleting.

Her lips twisted, eyes going back to where Stack had been a second ago, and not finding him. Her glossy mouth twisted up more. 

He’d texted her this morning asking that she come through. Said it’d been too long since he’d got his hands on her, two whole entire days, and he needed a taste of what only she could give. Needed his Annie fix. 

So she’d showered, slathered herself in that coconut hibiscus body butter he loved so much, got dressed, and popped out. Partly to get out the house and enjoy her last summer before graduating college. But mostly because, as bad as he’d said he needed his fix, she wanted to supply it even worse. 

And now that she was here, he was going out of his way not to interact with her. It wasn’t like Annie expected for him to kiss her ass all night or constantly check in. That wasn’t how her and Stack operated, especially in public. But there was a difference between keeping interactions brief so their situation could remain lowkey and him outright acting like she didn’t exist. 

Annie shook her head. She didn’t know what he had going on. If he was mad about that dumb ass comment P made earlier or what, but Stack had lost his mind if he thought she’d be sitting on this couch alone all night, when the only reason she was here, was because he’d promised to give her something very specific. If he was too bent out of shape to give it, she could really just go home. 

It had gotten a little too crowded for her liking anyways, and the once spacious living room now seemed small. It was hot, and stuffy, and there was too much energy going around. She’d had some fun—caught up with a few people, eaten, enjoyed a drink, but she was tired of brushing niggas off and even more tired of people bumping into her. She was right in the middle of binging Naked and Afraid and she’d have more fun going home to finish that, than dealing with this all night. 

Annie raised up off the couch, one hand going between her thick thighs to yank the denim material of her shorts down, and the other gripping her empty cup. She found the trash first, threw her red solo away, and then set out to find Stack next. She was giving him one chance to tell her what the problem was. 

She stepped through the crowd, eyes searching for a big ass head and a bigger smile and came up empty. As her eyes scanned the room for a third time, she spotted someone who looked a lot like Stack though, and she didn’t hesitate to work her way towards him.

Smoke was leaned against the wall by the front door, smoking what Annie would guess to be his second blunt, and talking to Cornbread when she walked over. 

“I think we gone throw another one of these next weekend. You down to work the door?” 

Cornbread scoffed. “Nigga, what am I? Top flight security of the Delta?” 

Smoke’ laughed. “Aight, we’ll pay you double what you making tonight, next weekend, if you work the door for us.” 

Cornbread thought for a second. “Pay me double and put me on Theresa and I might could work the door next Saturday.” The jolly giant glanced around like he was looking for the woman he spoke of, when he spotted Annie instead, just as she reached them. 

“Wussup Annie? You leaving already?” 

She smiled soft, couldn’t help it around Cornbread. “Nah, not yet.” And then she raised a brow. “You done ate right? They anit just working you with no breaks?” 

Cornbread laughed, “Yeah, I got me a plate Annie. Good looking out though.” 

She waved him off. Cornbread looked out for everybody, it was instinct to make sure he was good too.

With that settled, she directed her attention to the left. 

“You know where yo brother at? I need to ask him something.” 

Smoke blew smoke. Eyes low and voice more playful than usual. 

“You look mad. You bout to start some shit lil Annie?“ 

Her eyes almost touched the ceiling they rolled so hard.

“You one year older than me. Anit nothing little over here. And anit nobody mad. I have a question for him and I know you know where he at.” 

So, she sounded a little mad. Irritated, if you will. Oh well. Thing one and thing two could make even an angel like her, act out of character.

Smoke laughed, passing the J to Cornbread and holding his hands up in surrender, “Last time I seen him, he was going upstairs,” he jerked his head to the left, towards the long staircase. 

Annie blinked. Then smiled as polite as she could manage.

“Thanks,” she glanced at Cornbread, waved, and then she was moving, legs carrying her through the crowd, and mind going to a place she didn’t like.

Her and Stack were not together. But they did have an agreement. The agreement being, if they were fucking each other, they weren’t fucking anybody else. When Annie made it up these stairs, that agreement had better still be firmly intact. 

It was quieter on the upper level, and the throbbing that’d started in her temples eased slightly. She sighed in relief, walking down the long carpeted hallway. Annie peeked into a couple of open rooms on the left side of the hall, and then found who she was looking for when she peeked into a room on the right. 

It looked like a master bedroom, walk in closet, big windows, big mirrors, and an even bigger 4 poster bed that sat in the middle of the floor. Just as Annie stepped into the room, Stack walked out of its attached en-suite bathroom.

His steps faltered for a second, eyes widening a little a surprise, and brows jumping high on his forehead.  

“Wussup? What’s wrong?” His eyes were on her, running down her frame, like he was tryna find out who did it and what the fuck they name was. 

Annie eyed him. She refused to cut him slack right now, even as she took in the way his eyes became alert at the thought of something being wrong with her. Even as her stomach fluttered a little because of it. Fluttered in a way she wouldn’t be acknowledging.

Her hand found her hip. 

“That’s what I’m tryna figure out.” 

At her tone, his eyes stopped checking her body for non-existent injuries, nose wrinkling in confusion instead.

“What you talkin’ about?” 

Annie got straight to the point.

“Why you been ducking and dodging me all night Stack? Like I did something to you?” 

It was like magic the way his face went blank, and then came alive again. Smirk tugging at his lips, head cocking, eyes glinting.

“Girl anit nobody been ducking you. What I look like?” He laughed, right hand hand going to his left wrist to fiddle with his watch like it could get any more centered than it already was. “Don’t tell me you mad cause a nigga been walking around being a good host.” 

Annie sucked her teeth, talking mostly to herself when she said, “What is with you niggas and thinking I’m walking around here mad?” 

Stack’s ears perked up, hand pausing the fiddling he was doing with his watch, and smirk growing. Wasn’t shit funny though. “What niggas been saying that? That goofy looking light skin mufucka’ that was tryna dance with you earlier?” 

Annie blinked in surprise. He hadn’t looked her way once since they’d been in the kitchen. Except apparently, he had.

She laughed, “I don’t even know how you know somebody was tryna dance with me earlier. You anit talked to me all night Stack.” 

He blinked, tongue coming out to lick his bottom lip. 

“What,” his head cocked. “You miss me or something?” 

“Or something.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m just tryna figure out why you walking around here mad cause of what happened earlier. You know P and J just be talking.” 

His head was shaking before she’d even finished her sentence, eyes narrowed, and hand waving her off. “Anit nobody thinking bout that lil shit. Smoke stopped yo clumsy ass from falling and yo lil friends don’t know what the fuck they talking ‘bout. What I got to be mad for?” 

Funny how they were her lil friends now, when he’d known Pearline and June longer.

Annie raised a brow, crossing her arms under her heavy chest. “Exactly. What do you have to be mad for? Lines anit blurring is they?” 

Stack’s eyes grew sharp. 

That was a thing they said, to check each others temperatures. To make sure they were still on the same page. 

Annie was demanding a little too much of his time? Asking too many questions and giving too many lectures about what he and his brother did to make money—sounding more like a girlfriend than a friend with benefits? ‘Sound like you slippin’ Annie. Lines anit blurring is they?’

Stack was demanding too much of her time? Trying to check who she talked too? Ready to lay niggas out just for looking twice? ‘Whats goin’ on Stack? Lines anit blurring is they?’ 

It kept them grounded. Reminded them what their situation was—reminded them that there was no room for possessiveness or demanding questions or petty arguments in what they had.

They looked at each other. And then Stack spoke. “You know me better than that. Know damn well they not.” 

And every time the question was asked, the answer given was no, and that was expected to be taken at face value. They were grown, 23 and 24, and if either of them did feel lines were blurring, they knew how to speak up and say so. 

Neither one of them ever said so though. Wouldn’t be taking a step back from each other no time soon.

Annie nodded, arms dropping, and belly loosening where it’d tightened a little. Like she’d been nervous.

Probably cause she didn’t want him to say any answer that’d put a stop to her getting what he gave her so well.

“Okay then.” She cleared her throat and then she stepped closer. Hands reaching out to grip at his shirt, pulling, and making him step in. He came willingly. 

“Sooo, you gone give me what I came here for?” She blinked up at him, where he looked down, only a couple inches taller. “Or you still tryna play host?” 

Downstairs, the party advertised as a “lowkey” kickback, was damn near turning into a rave, as Chief Keefs ‘Faneto’ boomed through the speakers. The music was at max volume now and still, it struggled to compete with the loud crowd. Smoke made a note of that. Was gone have to get better speakers before next weekend. And a bigger place to host this shit. Now though, it wasn’t anything he could do about it, so he just joined in with the crowd. Leaned against a wall, head nodding to the beat, and mouth rapping the words.

Gang in this bitch..

Gang in this bitch.. 

I’m a gorilla in a fuckin’ coupe, finna pull up to the zoo nigga..

Who nigga? Who the fuck is you? I don’t know nigga..

As J and her new man stood side by side, arms in the air and bodies moving, she briefly wondered where the hell Annie was. And then she shrugged. She was probably somewhere in the crowd, rapping along with everybody else. She’d have to find her friend when the living room cleared out a little bit. 

J didn’t know though, that even if the living room suddenly emptied, she still wouldn’t be able to find Annie. Her friend was…occupied right now.

“Nah, nah, nah, get yo ass back here!” 

“Shit, Stack. Fuck!” 

The large hands gripping her hips pulled Annie back onto the length she’d tried to run from and her eyes rolled at the feeling. 

Stack had her damn near bent in half, face down, ass pointed to the ceiling, and thighs spread wide. 

“Ouuu Stack.” 

He watched all that ass clap as he dug in her from behind, them dimpled cheeks ricocheting off his hard abs every time he pressed in deep. And he was pressing in deep. Hips working like he didn’t want to be out of her soft creamy walls for too long. Pulling out and immediately thrusting back in, dick reaching as far as he could get it, like he was trying to mold her pussy and ruin her for anybody else. 

Annie felt like she was already ruined. Couldn’t even pin point where the pleasure started or where it ended, because she felt good everywhere. Stack was stretching her so wide. Fucking her hard and keeping her so full it made her core ache and her mouth water and her pussy drip. Had her doing stupid stuff, like running from the good that pulsed through her body. Annie’s thighs shook, her back curving and messing up the deep arch Stack had just put her in. 

He sucked his teeth, one hand pressing into the center of her back to fix that shit, while the other came up and then rained down on one of her cheeks. 

“Shit!”

“You pissing me off Annie! Fuck you got going on? I anit ‘bout to keep chasing you all over this bed.” 

All Annie could do was moan, the sting from her ass shooting straight to her clit. Straight to her sensitive nipples that were pressed firmly into the mattress beneath her. He didn’t even soothe the fire spreading across her cheeks, bringing his hand up and smacking it back down with a loud THWACK on the same spot instead. It made the harsh sting feel so much worse. Made all the good thrumming through her, feel so much better. 

She groaned loudly, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, eyes screwed shut, face turned to the side and pressed into the comforter. 

“Fix my arch!” Stack pressed down on her back harder. 

“It’s too much,” she whined. “Why you in it like that Stack. Shit.” 

Annie didn’t know what was going on. She could take dick. Could ride it, could suck it, could eat back shots and fuck back for more. Could do it all for Stack. Tonight though, something was different. The second they’d hit the bed he was on her ass. Yanking her clothes off, flipping her around like she weighed all of nothing, positioning Annie where and how he wanted her before sliding in deep, promising to ‘put his face in his pussy’ later. He hadn’t let up since they’d started, strokes deliberate. Strokes Focused. Strokes calculating, like he taking note of which spots made her run in the first place, and then going out his way to hit every one.

And Annie tried to take it, she really did, but when he pulled out slow, confusing her at the sudden change of pace, just to thrust back inside, quick, hard, and at an angle, she was running again. Fingers gripping at the sheets, thighs trying to close, arch all fucked up, as her stomach tightened deliciously.

Stack was done playing with her.

Instead of pulling her back, he followed, hard chest pressed into her back, body never leaving hers as they both hit the mattress. 

Annie was flat under him now, head turned towards the wall, open mouth panting.

He was in her ear. Chain around his neck pressed into her glistening skin. 

“Why you tryna keep this pussy from me? I thought this was what you came here for?” His voice was low, soft as silk, sweet like honey. Annie’s hole spasmed around his length. “You been giving me this pussy all summer and now you acting like you can’t take it?” 

“You just—ouuu. You so deep Stack—”

“I’m deep cause that’s where she want me. You feel how wet this pussy is? How hard she biting down on me?” He slid out slow, and Annie groaned. He felt deeper than before in this new position. Felt like he was sliding against a spot he’d never touched. As he pulled out, her clit pulsed violently. It was being stimulated now, by all that weight pressing on top of her and from the mattress below. Annie’s eyes rolled. Stack’s did the same, jaw jumping as he felt the wet clinging to his dick. That was Annie all over him. He eyed the side of her face. Saw them eyes clenched, long lashes fluttering. Saw them lips clamped between her teeth. Read the pleasure written all over her face.

“Why mufuckas walking round here with opinions on who can handle you and who you make sense with Annie?” Stack asked the question suddenly. Had pulled out to the head and was swallowing spit at the way her pussy clamped down on the tip. “What they know bout how you need to be handled?” 

“Stack, please.”

Annie didn’t know what she was asking for. She felt overstimulated in the best way. He had her feeling like the dick was too much one second and like it wasn’t enough the next. Her brain felt like it was flipped upside down and all that low talking he was doing in her ear wasn’t helping. 

Stack kept going.

“What they know ‘bout it Annie? They be seeing you like this? Spread wide? Pussy wet? Feigning for the dick? They must know how to fix it when you get like this? Know the type of nigga you need to make it better? Or that’s just me who know?”

Annie whimpered, “Just you. Only you.” 

He slid in to the hilt. And there was nowhere for Annie to run this time. Her breath left her body. Stack still had his though. His teeth scraped at her ear as he spoke. 

“They know how deep you like to be fucked? How even when you running, yo pussy soaked for it? They tryna put you with niggas and shit. They should probably know what you like.”  

He dragged his length out slow, and buried every inch right back inside. 

“Elias.” 

Stack smirked. He’d been walking around with a knot in his chest all night, one he anit care to explore. But now it was working itself out. 

“Yeah, baby?” Neither of them really realized what’d he’d just called her. So neither one acknowledged it. 

“It feel so good like this.” 

“It’s ‘bout to feel better.” 

And he wasn’t lying. He fed her his dick over and over, pressed right against her, skin to skin, mouth at her ear kissing and talking shit and all Annie could do was take it.

“Oh you in my pussy Stack. That dick so deep in my pussy.”

“Mmm, you got a nasty ass mouth Annie. Mufuckas know that? Mufuckas know you got a nasty ass mouth and need a nigga who can talk that shit right back?” 

“Ouuuuuu. No baby, they don’t know.” 

They went on and on. Stack’s hips never stopping. Dick never fully leaving that perfect fucking pussy.

“Who you call when you need this pussy handled? Who handle you?” 

“You do Stack, oh my god.” Annie felt something creeping up on her fast. Something tight and hot. She moaned, squeezing at the sheets. 

Stack’s hips snapped forward harder.

“Got me fucked up,” he was speaking through gritted teeth. Felt the way that pussy was jumping on him. “I keep you fed, I keep you smiling, and I keep you fucked. Can’t no other nigga handle nothing over here. You ‘ont make sense with none of these niggas. Fuck she talkin’ ‘bout?” 

“Ouuuu—bullshit baby—she was talking bullshit.” 

“This my pussy? I make this pussy feel good?” 

“This yo pussy Stack swear to God. Oh my God. I feel it.” 

“All them bitch ass niggas down there in yo face tryna talk to you. Yo lil friends saying stupid shit. Cause they don’t know. They don’t know this my pussy.” 

His thrusted in hard. Again. And Again. Keeping her pinned underneath him. Taking it. Annie shuddered. “I feel like I’m bout to—Stack—Im bout to cum.” 

He laid a wet kiss on the side of her face. 

“Go head. Anit nobody stopping you. Cum on this dick like you always do.” 

It should never be said that Annie couldn’t follow orders. 

Her pussy locked down tight around him. 

Vice grip tight. 

“Son of a—shit Annie.” 

And Stack didn’t stand a fucking chance. 

While the crowd downstairs rapped at full volume Stack and Annie did what they did best. Gave each other that high that only they could give. 

His hands fell over hers, where they gripped the sheets, and they came just like that. Stacks chest pressed tight to Annies shaking body, sinking into all that soft.

 She moaned, pretty face screwed up as she gushed around him. Moaned filthier when she felt him shooting inside her. All the warm going deep and prolonging her orgasm. They didn’t have no business fucking raw. Not really. Annie knew better. But she tracked her ovulation like it was religion, never missed a birth control pill, and made got tested faithfully. That was her compromise with the universe, cause the way he felt raw inside her, hard and pulsing and so fucking good? It flipped some type of switch in Annie’s brain, one that rivaled with her common sense—one she hadn’t been able to turn off since the first time she’d felt all of him sink into all of her bare.

They groaned in unison. 

“Ouuuu Stack!” 

“Feel so fuckin good Annie, shit.”  

They came long, and slow, and hard, wiping any tension that’d lingered from today, away. Untying that knot in Stack’s chest, and giving Annie peace of mind on where they stood.

The two came down, slowly, gradually, him rolling off her so she could breathe properly, her still panting, hole spasming around nothing. Hair sweated the fuck out. And a wide grin stretching across her face. This is what she came here for tonight. That good feeling Stack gave her so well. This is why she’d started fucking with Elias Moore. Why sometimes, she wandered what’d it be like if their lines did blur. Just a little.

“You good?” His voice made her look over at him lazily. He was on his back, hard chest glistening with sweat, smirk tugging at his lips as he eyed her. “You smiling kinda crazy over there. Dick anit bout to have you peeking in a nigga window at night is it?” 

Her smile dropped. 

“Anddd we’re back to reality.” 

👀 Hi y’all! If you made it to the end I hope you enjoyedddd. 🫶🏾 I was a 🤏🏾 nervous about posting this since it was just some practiceeee like I said. I feel like it mayyy be a little boring tbh 🤷🏾‍♀️ but I did have a lot of fun writing it. I love Annie down and this is really how I picture a modern younger her. Smart, sassy, sweet and sweet faced, and ensuring she get hersss lmao. Also, I was writing this like…these mfs are the worst at being sneaky. Lmao. Anyways, I like talking to y’all so if you feel so inclineddd let me know what you thinkkkk. Would yall be down to see more of them? Me actually exploring their situation a little bit? Lemme know. Send some Requests. Happy Sunday 🫶🏾🧡

@cursed-carmine on the dividers! ♥︎

[konigsblog]

König probably sleeps with one extremely firm pillow every single night. 💤

[dreamivyisla]

⋆˚✿˖° 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍 ⋆˚✿˖°

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ➤ Elias “Stack” Moore

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ➤ you’re soft-spoken, virgin living with her older sister sibella finally gives in to the persistent, cocky advances of elias “stack” moore—her sister’s boyfriend’s friend.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ➤ something to feed you guys because i’ve became so not active. enjoy!

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ➤ 10.3k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ➤ virginity loss, smut, rough sex, breathplay, choking, dirty talk, praise, overstimulation, black reader (but anyone can imagine themselves), dumbification, fingering, oral (f. receiving), backshots, size kink, modern au, slight pain from first time, post-sex soreness.

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚 𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚 𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚

you never really cared when sibella and her man got loud.

they could be in the next room, door cracked open, her voice moaning high-pitched and desperate while his sounded like it came from his chest—gritty and mean like he enjoyed knowing she couldn’t keep quiet. it happened too often for it to phase you. maybe the first time you’d been embarrassed. maybe you’d rolled your eyes, stuffed a pillow over your head, huffed loud enough for them to hear. but now? you were used to it. background noise. like the heater kicking on or a pot boiling over.

sibella had always been the wild one. you were soft. quiet. watched and listened more than you spoke. you liked your room, your books, your own air. sibella, on the other hand, liked attention, chaos, dick. she’d tell you things you never asked to hear—how good it felt when he held her neck, how she liked it rough, how you were too uptight for your own good.

“you gon’ die with that pussy untouched,” she said one night, fresh out the shower in a towel, her eyes still lined in smudged makeup.

you just looked at her from your bed, a little amused. “and?”

“girl,” she laughed, climbing up beside you, “you act like keeping it makes you better. ain’t nobody judging you, but you really ain’t even curious?”

you shrugged. it wasn’t that you thought you were better. you just didn’t want to fake wantin’ something you didn’t feel yet. and maybe it wasn’t even about sex, just the idea of someone close—really close. breath on your skin, hands down your thighs, someone else seeing all of you. you didn’t know what that would feel like, and you didn’t think it was something you wanted to rush. sibella had called you “old-fashioned.” her boyfriend, troy, had called you “uptight” once, but you didn’t care. it was your body. and they could live how they wanted, but so could you.

until he started coming around.

stack.

the first time he showed up at your apartment, you ignored him like you always did with troy’s friends. they’d come in loud, laughing, all of them trying too hard to impress each other. chain-smoking, playing music, shouting about basketball or some shit you didn’t care about. you usually stayed in your room. maybe came out to grab something to drink or use the bathroom. most of the time they barely noticed you. but not stack.

from the second he laid eyes on you, it was like he already knew you were gonna be a problem for him. and he decided to be one right back.

“damn,” he’d said loud, grinning, watching you walk to the fridge in your house shorts. “she don’t say hi? too good to speak?”

you didn’t answer. not even a glance. pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and walked back to your room. door closed behind you.

that was the beginning.

he started showing up more after that. it didn’t matter if troy was around or not. sometimes he’d knock on your front door with food for sibella, claiming she asked him to drop it off. sometimes he’d come by just to talk to troy, linger around the living room even when the conversation dried up. you caught him staring. a lot. and he didn’t try to hide it either.

“yo,” he said one night from the couch while you passed through in leggings and a hoodie, “you ever wear anything that don’t hug that ass?”

you gave him a flat look. “do you ever shut the fuck up?”

he grinned like he liked that answer. like you fed him instead of shut him down. “mmm. lil attitude. i like that. you actin’ mean, but i know that’s just ‘cause you shy.”

you rolled your eyes. sibella laughed from the kitchen.

“you might as well get to know him,” she said later, when y’all were alone. “he not that bad. cocky, yeah. but that’s just how he is. underneath all that extra shit, he cool.”

you weren’t convinced. but three months of him showing up, finding you in whatever room you tried to hide in, cracking jokes, complimenting your skin, your mouth, your shape—he wore you down. maybe it was the way he’d make you laugh without meaning to. or the fact that when you actually sat down and talked to him, he had more to him than you thought. he was smart. surprisingly observant. he’d tell you about his childhood, his mom, his twin brother. and when you spoke, he listened. remembered little things you said in passing and brought them up days later.

“you like strawberry cream in your coffee, right?”

“you said you like sade—put this on.”

“you was talkin’ ‘bout them earrings you saw at the mall. i got you a pair.”

and it started getting harder to treat him like the rest.

you didn’t mean to let your guard down. but it was hard not to with him. stack had a charm about him that crept up slow. he was always touching you. not in ways that crossed lines at first—just light brushes against your waist when he passed behind you in the kitchen, knuckles on your thigh when he leaned too close, fingers tucking a curl behind your ear. at first, you shut it down. pushed his hand off your leg. shifted away from his body. made sure he knew you weren’t that type of girl. but he never got mad. never pushed. he just gave you that same cocky-ass smile like he knew you’d give in eventually.

“you playin’ hard to get,” he said once, his thumb dragging lazy circles across your bare knee. “but you like that i’m on you. you just don’t know what to do with it yet.”

you didn’t even respond. but your breath had caught in your throat when he said it. and he noticed.

he always noticed.

still, you never told him you were a virgin. it wasn’t something you wanted to throw out casually. you figured he probably assumed you were just picky. maybe waiting for the right one. sibella never told him, and you doubted troy knew either. and honestly, you liked keeping that part of you tucked away.

then came that one night.

it was a friday. sibella and troy had gone out, probably wouldn’t be back ‘til the next morning. you were stretched out on the couch in your usual—short shorts, tank top, no bra, nipples pressing faintly through the fabric. you weren’t trying to be sexy, but you weren’t hiding either. you texted elias just outta boredom.

you busy?

he texted back quick.

for you? nah. slide thru? or you want me over there?

come here.

ten minutes later, he was knocking.

he smelled like his cologne, the one you were starting to recognize. brought a little weed with him, a smirk that made your stomach flutter even though you pretended it didn’t. y’all rolled up on the floor first, sitting cross-legged across from each other, talking shit. smoke drifted lazy through the room. the air got thick, quiet between laughs and teasing.

you felt good. loose. warm behind the eyes.

“i don’t get you,” he said low, leaning back on his elbows, watching you from the couch now. “you sexy as hell, smart, got that attitude on you… but you act like you scared of me.”

“i ain’t scared,” you said, biting your lip slightly.

“nah. you are. or maybe you scared of you. ‘cause if i touch you again, you gon’ fold. i see it all on your face.”

you didn’t answer. you were already crawling into his lap, slow and deliberate like your body moved before your brain. the weed had you floatin’. his eyes locked on yours, waiting.

“yeah?” he said, hands sliding up the backs of your thighs, fingertips just under the edge of your shorts. “you sure you want me touchin’ you?”

you nodded, heart racing.

you kissed him. for real this time. not like the other stolen little moments when he’d pressed his mouth to yours and you turned your head too quick. this was deep. hot. full of tongue. he gripped your hips tighter, groaning into your mouth like he’d been holding back too long.

his hands moved. over your ass, up your back, fingers gripping the sides of your tank. he kissed your neck, sucked at the curve of your collarbone. heat spilled down your belly. your legs were straddling him now, his dick hard under you through his sweats, pressing up against your core.

he flipped you under him, moving slow like he was waiting for you to say no. one hand slipped down your stomach, toward the waistband of your shorts, and just when he hooked his fingers in—

“wait,” you whispered.

his eyes flicked up.

“what’s up?”

“i’m a virgin.”

his face went blank. still. he blinked, mouth parted just slightly like he didn’t hear you right.

“what?”

you looked away. “i ain’t never… like, at all.”

he sat back on his heels, staring at you for a long second.

“you serious?”

you nodded.

he exhaled slow, ran a hand down his face.

“…fuck.”

his “fuck” lingered in the air like heat.

for a second, you thought he might leave. thought maybe you read it wrong—maybe the way he’d chased you down for months didn’t mean he actually wanted you like that. maybe it was just for show, a game to get you to break. but he didn’t move. didn’t get up. didn’t pull away either.

he just looked at you different now. softer, but still sharp. eyes a little darker. mouth twitching like he had a hundred thoughts moving at once.

“…you shoulda told me that shit,” he muttered, finally. “damn.”

you swallowed, feeling small under him, but not in a bad way. just new. raw. like being seen too clearly.

“you mad?”

he shook his head slowly. “nah. i ain’t mad. just… surprised. you ain’t act like no virgin.”

“how they act?”

he leaned forward again, lips brushing your neck now, voice dropping lower. “not like this. not sittin’ in my lap wit’ no bra on. not kissin’ me like that. shit, i thought you was just takin’ your time. had no idea i was gon’ be the first.”

you shivered under his mouth.

“you want me to stop?”

you shook your head.

“aight then,” he breathed, hands sliding back down your thighs. “you sure, you let me handle it.”

he kissed you again. deeper this time. slower. like he was tasting you different now. his hands didn’t rush, but they didn’t hesitate either. he dragged your shorts down your legs, steady like he was unwrapping something delicate. your tank top went next, peeled off and tossed aside. your whole body burned. you covered your chest at first, instincts kicking in, but he gently pulled your hands down.

“nah. don’t hide all this. lemme see it.”

you looked away, but he tilted your chin back to face him. he stared for a long second, eyes trailing down your curves like he was trying to memorize every line.

“god damn, girl,” he whispered, low and reverent. “you really built like this under all them hoodies?”

you blushed, biting back a laugh.

he moved down your body slow, mouth brushing your collarbone, your chest, your stomach. then he was kneeling between your legs, lifting one over his shoulder, spreading you open like he had all the time in the world.

“shit,” he murmured, thumb dragging over your folds. “so fuckin’ pretty. pussy fat as hell.”

you squirmed under his grip, toes curling.

“you ever play wit’ it before?” he asked.

you nodded. “sometimes.”

“show me.”

you hesitated, but he gave you a look that melted any doubt in your chest. you brought your fingers to your slit, shy at first, dragging them up the center like you were doing it in secret. he watched you like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. eyes locked. jaw tight.

“mmm. there you go. you wet already?”

he ran his fingers over yours, dipped one between your lips and brought it up to your mouth.

“taste that shit.”

you sucked his finger slow, your own breath catching as you did.

he groaned. “fuck, you nasty already. i like that.”

then he lowered his head.

his tongue was slow at first. wide, wet licks that made your whole body tremble. he took his time, holding your thighs open, lips sealed around your clit, tongue dragging figure eights against it ‘til you moaned out loud without meaning to.

“don’t hold it in,” he said against you. “i wanna hear that shit.”

he sucked harder. circled your clit faster. then slid a single finger inside you and your hips jerked up from the bed.

“tight,” he growled. “fuckin’ gripping me.”

you grabbed at his hair, breathing fast now, your whole body winding tighter and tighter until everything snapped. your legs shook around his head, mouth open but nothing coming out except a breathy sob as you came for the first time with somebody else’s mouth on you.

he pulled away slow, lips shiny, licking his bottom one like he’d just finished dessert.

“damn. you taste like peaches or some shit,” he said, laughing low. “sweet ass pussy.”

you were still trembling when he moved back up your body, kissing you deep so you could taste yourself on his tongue.

then he pulled his sweats off.

your eyes widened.

“…elias.”

he smirked. “yeah?”

you didn’t even know what to say. he was thick. long. heavy. it curved up slightly, veins bulging down the shaft, head dark and already leaking. he stroked it slow, watching your face like he wanted to see your brain short-circuit.

“this too much for you?”

you nodded, honestly. “i dunno if it’ll fit.”

“it will,” he said, voice low and certain. “i’m gon’ go slow, baby. i got you.”

he kissed you again, then guided the head to your entrance, rubbing it through your folds.

“just breathe. let me in a lil at a time.”

he pushed slow. real slow. and it still burned. you winced, grabbing onto his arm, and he stilled right away.

“you good?”

“keep goin’,” you whispered, nails digging into his skin.

he went deeper. inch by inch, until your eyes rolled back and your breath caught. he filled you completely, bottomed out with a groan in your ear.

“fuck,” he muttered. “you tight as a fuckin’ vice. shit.”

he stayed there for a second, letting you adjust. kissed the side of your neck, your shoulder, your cheek.

“you takin’ it so good, baby. ain’t even cryin’. first dick and you already built for it.”

he moved his hips slow, dragging out, then back in, just enough for you to feel the stretch again. it was painful, but the pain faded quick. pleasure started creeping in, humming low in your belly.

“see that? told you i’d make it fit.”

you whined beneath him, eyes fluttering.

“that’s it,” he said, fucking you a little deeper now. “let me ruin you.”

your fingers gripped the sheets. he held your throat lightly—not tight yet, just enough to feel the pressure. his other hand cupped your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple.

“feel good?” he asked. “you like this dick, don’t you?”

you nodded, breathless.

he tightened his grip on your neck just enough to make your head float.

“say it.”

“i—i like it,” you stammered, brain going fuzzy from the pressure, the stretch, the sound of his voice in your ear.

“yeah you do. got that virgin pussy dumb already.”

you moaned louder.

“you ain’t never gon’ forget this dick,” he said, cock driving deeper now, hips smacking yours. “first one in it, first one to stretch it, first one to own it.”

you couldn’t even speak.

he flipped you over, pulled your hips up and fucked you from behind now, one hand on the small of your back, the other gripping your hair.

“this the angle that’ll fuck the innocence out you,” he muttered, dragging his dick slow then slamming back in, making you scream into the mattress. “you feel that in your gut?”

your whole body shook. you were drooling on the sheets, eyes wet, legs trembling.

“lemme see that face,” he said, pulling you back by your hair. “look at me while i break you in.”

you glanced over your shoulder, mouth parted, and he almost came right then.

“beautiful ass girl. i swear to god, i’m gon’ fuck you stupid.”

and he did.

he didn’t stop. kept going, made you cum again—twice, maybe three times. you couldn’t keep track. everything was wet. the sheets. his chest. your face. your thighs. he lifted your leg, drilled into you from the side, choked you through another orgasm. your moans turned into sobs. pleasure ate your brain alive.

“stack—fuck—i can’t—”

“yes you can,” he growled, pounding into you. “you takin’ it like a fuckin’ champ.”

your nails raked his back. his hand squeezed your throat again, hard enough to make the edges of your vision blur.

you came one more time, back arched, toes curling, legs locked around his waist.

he groaned deep, spilling inside you with a twitch.

everything went still.

all you heard was your heartbeat. your breath. his deep, ragged one against your skin.

you were ruined. for real.

he kissed your forehead after, gently. ran his hand up and down your back.

“you good?”

you nodded, tears drying on your cheeks.

“…i ain’t never lettin’ nobody else touch you,” he said, voice low, possessive. “you mine now. you know that, right?”

you just nodded again.

because deep down, you already knew.

you woke up before him.

barely. the sun hadn’t even fully crept through the curtains yet. just a strip of light cut across your comforter, hitting the edge of the bed where elias was sprawled out, ass-naked, sleeping like he’d just come home from war. one arm slung over his eyes, the other draped where your body had been. the sheets were a mess. the air still smelled like sex, weed, and sweat.

your thighs ached.

you groaned softly when you moved, careful not to wake him. every inch of you felt sore—inside, outside, places you didn’t even know could hurt. your hips were tender. your legs had that heavy, overworked kind of weight to them. and your pussy? bruised. not in a bad way. but like it remembered every single stroke.

you held onto the edge of the dresser for balance while you stood up, wobbling a little. took a second to catch your breath. your legs did not feel normal.

“damn…” you muttered, barely able to walk straight as you grabbed a towel and slipped out the room.

the water in the shower hit different. you stood there for a minute, letting it run over your body, steam curling around your face while you leaned a hand against the tile. your whole body was humming—raw, open, still floating a little from the night before. flashes kept replaying in your head. his hands on your throat. the way he moaned your name against your ear. how many times you came. how he kept going even after you said you couldn’t take it.

you touched between your legs under the water and winced.

he really meant that shit when he said he was gon’ ruin you.

by the time you dried off and wrapped up in a big t-shirt, your legs were moving better. you still had a little limp, but nothing dramatic. the hallway felt quieter than usual. you figured sibella and troy hadn’t come back yet. probably stayed at his place.

you walked out into the kitchen, yawning, about to fix some eggs or something light, when you saw her.

bella.

sitting on the couch in her work clothes, sipping a mug of coffee and staring right at you.

your stomach dropped.

“…you back already?”

she didn’t even blink. didn’t even answer.

just smirked.

“…you got your lil virgin ass fucked, huh?”

you blinked, froze by the fridge.

“what—?”

“don’t even try it,” she said, standing up slow, walking over to lean against the counter across from you. “we came back early. me and troy. around two. figured we’d crash here instead. we wasn’t even gon’ bother you—until we heard you screamin’.”

your face heated instantly.

“bella—”

“nah,” she cut you off, wide-eyed and laughing, “nah, girl. you was in there hollerin’ like somebody took the damn soul out your body. like—goddamn. i was impressed! my lil sis got some lungs on her!”

you groaned, turning around to hide your face behind the fridge door. “please shut the fuck up.”

“you shut the fuck up,” she cackled, sipping her coffee louder. “you had my man like, ‘ayo, is that stack in there?’ i said, ‘who else would it be?’ you know he ain’t never quiet. i shoulda known from the second he started comin’ over too often. he was locked in on you. and you was playin’ all innocent.”

you mumbled under your breath, grabbing eggs from the fridge.

“girl, spill the damn tea,” she leaned closer. “was it good? how big was it? that man fine as hell. look like he dickin’ every bitch down, and now he got you stuck.”

you refused to give her full details. your body still felt too open, too exposed from what happened just hours ago. like your skin still remembered his hands. like it wasn’t meant to be talked about yet.

so you gave her one thing.

you looked up at her, dead in the face.

then held your hands apart, slow.

a little bigger.

then a little bigger.

then wider.

her mouth dropped.

“…bitch.”

you smirked. “exactly.”

bella screamed into the kitchen towel, spinning in a circle like she just heard the juiciest gossip in her life.

“i knew it! oh my god. no wonder you limp-walkin’. ohhhh, he really broke you in!”

“bella, please go to work.”

“no, bitch, you need to call out. i know you not sittin’ in no office chair today.”

you shook your head, laughing quietly, cheeks hot, chest fluttering at the memory. she eventually left, still shaking her head and giggling like she’d just found out her favorite show got renewed. and as soon as the door clicked behind her, you walked back to your room.

he was awake.

half-sitting up on your bed now, chest bare, sheets low on his waist. eyes still a little heavy but locked on you the second you walked in.

“where you go?” he mumbled, voice thick and scratchy.

“shower.”

he yawned, then grinned slowly as his eyes trailed down your body again.

“how you feel?”

you climbed back into the bed, under the covers. still warm from where he’d been laying.

“…sore.”

he smirked, proud. “good.”

you gave him a look, rolling your eyes.

“what?”

“you proud of yourself or something?”

he pulled you in, kissed your neck slow.

“yeah,” he muttered. “you still here, ain’t you?”

you didn’t say anything. just buried your face in his chest and let your limbs tangle into his. his fingers found your thigh again. light, lazy touches.

you already knew it wouldn’t be the last time.

not even close.

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚 𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚 𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𐙚

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐕𝐘𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐀.

[boonoonoonus]

Smokestack Twins & Music Headcanon's

The twins LOVE the CLIPSE. Deadass play their albums on repeat and rap along - Smoke is No Malice, Stack is Pusha T.

Smoke listens to straight R&B, Jazz, and Blues and not just the 90s, he actually prefers the 60s/70s/80s and takes the King of R&B conversations so seriously, you have to be qualified and certified to talk to him about it. (So only Delta Slim can chat him at the moment LOL !) The sole exception is Reggae, he listens to everyone but Bob Marley - can't stand him.

Stack loves Rap, but also is obsessed with Dancehall music and knows what's happening across the diaspora. Anything someone can shake ass too, he's heard it and has an opinion.

Smoke and Jedidiah talk gospel alot, low conversations on the porch/veranda. They don't always agree but love the artform and both accept Kirk Franklin as the last gospel musician. They don't play with the new stuff and have strong feelings about the roles of choirs.

Stack cultivated much of Sammie's taste, and he's who Sammie runs new music by because he's open-minded and has extensive musical references, but also because he won't ever make him feel a way about experimenting.

Smoke is a good percussionist, and Stack plays the fiddle, but both only play in private or around family. The exception is when Smoke and Annie's little girl was in the hospital, they sang/played for her every day to drown out the sound of the machines.

Their father was a session musician, bassist who toured with the greats think Gap Band, Aretha, Chaka etc but was a raging alcoholic (Stack has this tendency, they keep an eye on it) and their only good memory of their father Solomon, is him playing Smokestack Lightening and telling them about the blues when he was sober.

At the clubs they own, their favourite features an old school gospel and soul hour before the club closes. It is mandatory, implemented by Smoke, and he doesn't care about complaints - you will slow dance, you will slow whine, and catch feelings because maintaining traditional club culture is important to him.

Janet Jackson's song Discipline is about Stack. It's a long story, and he will never elaborate on it.

Janet Jackson was one of Stack's childhood celebrity crushes; Smoke's is Jill Scott. She's also his hall pass, and Annie has no issue with it; she finds it sweet. (Her's is Sterling K Brown, and Smoke HATES that man)

Stack's theme song: Stay Schemin - Rick Ross

Smoke's theme song: I Gave You Power - Nas

Joint Twins theme song: Ace Trumpets - Clipse

[theegyal]

THIRD WHEEL

[STACK x OC ]

Synopsis

Stack and Janae had known each other for years. Their cohabitation knew some ups and downs but never circumstances too hard to overcome.

Two broke students trying to figure out how to live their life

Two broken hearts that longed for unrequited love

Two people who gonna learn to love themselves before mending others to do.

Stack had been her roommate for three years.

What started as a mutual arrangement between two broke students sharing a worn-down two-bedroom in a creaky old complex, had grown into something tangled. The kind of closeness that wasn't exactly friendship, but not quite anything else.

They shared groceries when money got short,passed each other in towels, argued over speakers left too loud and toilet seats left up. She learned his horrible, partygoers sleep schedule. He learned her silences.

And somewhere in the quiet, Janae had fallen in love with him.

She couldn't say exactly when. Maybe it was that night he rolled her out of a panic attack with his deep voice steady in her ear. Maybe it was when he told a random guy at a house party to keep his 'ashy-ass hands' off her, even though Stack barely glanced her way otherwise. Or maybe it was just a slow build : one lingering stare at a time, one laugh too loud in the kitchen when she burned the eggs, one tired smile shared across the couch while she was struggling with her homework.

He never noticed. Not really. She wasn't his type, and Janae knew that. The girls he often brought home were all the same kind of beautiful : Tall or petite, caramel skin or porcelain, thick only where it counted, bubble ass, pretty white toes, curly hair or Betty Booped pixie, fit with flat tummy, eyes that tell fairytales...everything she was definitely not and couldn't really be.

Janae was too thick, too big. Well, at least, through the way her eyes saw her own body. Never did she get complimented for her coiled locsed her which she bleached ashtray blond to contrast with the glow of her hot shaded black dark skin.

One common thing with the beauties he shared bed with, Janae also got a roundish ass—would have enticed Stack, maybe if it wasn't covered by stretch marks and sculpted on hips dip.

Despite all, she watched him. Waiting for him to glance a meaningful eye toward her.

It was a Friday night when everything shifted.

Stack was at a bar downtown — one of those dim spots where the music didn't try too hard, and the drinks came cheap if you knew the bartender. He'd gone with a couple friends from his old neighborhood. Nothing wild, just the usual laughs, poker talk, smoke breaks. He was winning a game hand when he saw her, sitting by the bar.

A woman, fair porcelain skinned, a brown classy Bob hair crowning her head. She seemed older. Mid-to-late thirties, maybe, but that didn't dull her edge. If anything, it sharpened it. She wore red like the devil from her lipstick to her heels, her dress was magnificent, the kind that clung to her hips and opened just low enough at the chest to be a statement. She sipped something clear from a stemmed glass, nails clicking softly against it. Her gaze was intense and her mouth inviting.

Stack noticed her the same way men like him did, with a quick sweep, a tilt of the chin and a flicker of interest he didn't try to hide.

She met his eyes. Didn't smile. Just looked.

And that was all it took.

He ended up beside her at the bar with two drinks in hand and that grin he knew got him ways with women. He said something smooth — probably too much. She answered with a quiet laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"You always try that hard?" she asked.

A bit embarrassed, he chuckled, licking a drop of rum from his thumb.

"Only when it works."

She finally smiled.Not widely, just a poised, seductive smirk.

"My name's Mary."

"Stack."

They talked for long minutes to an hour, discussing of relevant and irrelevant topics. Close enough for their knees to brush. She didn't ask how old he was. He didn't ask why a woman like her was out alone. When she leaned in, he leaned back. When she reached for her drink, he let his fingers linger too close to hers. One thing was to respect her boundaries the other was to missed the chance to get her number. Stack decided to be bold.

"Are you only available by mail or appointments can also work?"

She laughed, teasing her perfect teeth, then responded

"Texts or call are always an option". They exchanged their numbers.

Later, when the bar thinned out and her driver pulled up, she gave him a look that left the door open.

He walked her to the car. Hand brushed her back. A kiss on her cheek that landed too close to her mouth.

She was gone after that. But he could tell that something had already started.

He got back to the apartment a little past two in the morning

The hallway smelled like someone had burned popcorn again, and the door stuck slightly when he pushed it open. Stack stepped inside, letting the warm weight of the night trail behind him — the faint bar lights still swimming behind his eyes and the subtle scent of Mary's perfume clinging to his collar.

He shrugged off his jacket, kicked off his sneakers without looking, and caught the faint blue glow of the TV in the living room.

Janae was still up. Curled on the couch, legs tucked beneath her like always, face washed clean of the day. Her bonnet clung to her edges, and her pajama set was mismatched: a worn-out pink T-shirt with a faded logo on the front and gray bottoms that hugged her big thighs.

Stack saw her and smirked, easing his keys onto the counter.

"Ain't you too young to be dressed like somebody's auntie?" he said, voice low and teasing as he dropped his keys into the bowl near the door.

Janae didn't answer, nor look at him right away. Her eyes stayed on the TV screen, the sitcom laugh track filling the silence he left behind. She didn't even like the show. She just used the noises to keep her loneliness from humming too loud in the room.

"Better than smelling Prada with no dollars in my pocket," she finally muttered, still not turning her head.

"Oof." He laughed, walking past her toward the kitchen. "You got jokes tonight."

"I'm not joking."

He opened the fridge, grabbed a beer, and leaned against the counter, watching her from across the room.

"You good?" he asked, drinking before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Janae shrugged. "Mmm."

She turned, finally looking at him. Not long, not hard. Just a glance. But it was enough.

His curls were slightly damp at the edges like he'd sweated on the bar's dance floor. A smudge of red lipstick clung to the collar of his hoodie. He didn't notice. She didn't tell him.

"Did you have fun?" she asked, quiet.

"Yeah. It was chill."

She nodded, trying not to flinch at the simplicity of his answer.

Trying not to imagine the type of woman who had him sounding so casual.

"You meet somebody?" she asked. The question came out too lightly, like she wasn't holding her breath, waiting for him to say no.

He grinned "Kinda. We'll see."

Janae gave a small, polite smile and turned her face back toward the TV. The show had ended, the screen now offering her the next episode. She didn't press play.

Stack crossed the room again, pausing behind the couch like he might say something else. Instead, he reached down, rustled her bonnet gently like she was his little sister, and said, "Don't wait up for me next time, old lady."

Then he disappeared down the hallway.

Janae sat there, blinking at the — now — TV black screen, her chest tightening piece by piece.

The laughter from the sitcom she'd watched echoed faintly in her mind, canned, fake, and too bright for how hollow her heart felt right now.

She waited until his door shut, then stood up and dragged herself down the hall to her own bedroom.

Morning light slipped through the cracked blinds, cutting soft stripes across Janae's room. She struggled to wake up, the clock displaying 10:04.

Her heart dropped to her stomach. Fuck, she was late again!

She pushed herself up, muscles stiff, eyes red from yesterday's tears. She stormed to the bathroom, wearing the same loose, faded pink T-shirt and big, large cotton drawers, worn and stretched from too many washes. She loved her grandma-style panties! Sure, they weren't flattering or sexy, but they were very comfortable. And, let's be honest, she had nobody to please and no one to look at what she hid under those, so what was the problem?

She moved fast, mind already racing from the assignments she hadn't finished, the notes she hadn't copied, to the professor who already looked at her like she didn't belong in the room.

Janae's fingers barely touched the bathroom door before it swung inward. She stepped inside and ran face-first into Stack.

He was shirtless, his strong abs laying like a river on his honeyed skin, towel low on his waist drawing a sharp line of his V, barely hiding his crotch. Janae shifted her gaze up, urgent, to the toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

Time stopped for a second.

Stack looked up. His eyes flicked over her—from bare thighs to the hem of her worn, stretched panties, to the startled twist of her mouth.

"SHIT, Stack!" she snapped, slapping the door shut.

She leaned hard against it, breath shallow, palms sweaty.

He had seen her. Not even dressed up, covered. No—Stack had seen her half-naked.

Bare: her big, flabby thighs, her huge soft tits hanging under the pink T-shirt, those damn granny underwear damp from sweat.

That fuckboy had seen the body she only knew how to hide and never how to offer.

He had seen her big stomach, the stretch marks branding her dark-skinned thighs. Thankfully, he didn't have the time to analyze it. To glance at her round ass that curved just so wrongly.

"Damn, my bad," Stack's voice came through the door, amused. "Didn't know you was up. Or... out here assed out like that."

Janae closed her eyes.

Of course he joked. Of course he found something to say. He always did—smooth and careless, like it didn't mean anything. On God, she already knew that seeing her like this could never stir any aroused reaction from him. There was no better way to rub the truth raw on her already wounded pride than this.

The truth hurt, but Janae had learned to swallow it.

"Get the fuck outta this bathroom. I'm already late!" she shouted, less energetic than before.

She tugged her shirt lower. It didn't help. Couldn't hide anything.

For a second, she thought about not going to class. Curling back into bed, letting the day pass without her.

Stack finally headed out—teeth clean, playful face, ready to tease Janae more.

But before the words could pass his mouth, she'd already hurried into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Tag list

Hello, I took this tag list from my fanfic Hush. If you want to be removed, just tell me I will do it !

@thelifeoflagab @juniooox @tadjoa @shamansha @brownskincheyenne @freelandgoddess @Ib-xci @blaqgirlmagicyallcantstandit @iammyownlover @stormynovashambler @summrsovrinterlude @prettygirl2800 @puffmamaa @harleycativy @jasssdee1 @itstayleigh @queenofklonnie22 @bigjh @tadjoa @Isc72 @forzaferrariii , @blxckberrie @avidreader73 @partylikemajima @lolalikesgames @ultralspblr @post-woke @jasssdee1 @lizbehave @rkiiives @underated345-blog @thefutureemmywinner @lestatthelioncourt

[piiinkfreak]

Based of a meme on pinterest!

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[snuggle-fangs]

Headcanon Idea For Modern Remmick!:

🩷🦇Totally watches Call Me Kevin and Jacksepticeye. Loves watching the Irish YouTubers, definitely gets Vampire!Stack and Mary to watch them with him, cuz you know how mischievous besties they are!🦇🩷

[brownskincheyenne]

Watching my girl in Temple and she is bad ass !! Yall she has range !! I love her down ! Can yall please start writing different stories for my girl her range is crazy !!!

[sualne]

modern au stats, fellas' relationships with the good ol' horizontal tango.

EDIT: it's sex indifferent not neutral.