brownlyfe

[brownlyfe]

Love A Woman: What About Us?

A Three-Part Modern Day Au

Part 1

pairing: elijah “smoke" moore x annie x elias "stack" moore

cw: modern!au, slightly ooc

word count: 5,443

summary: annie is caught between two brothers who show their love for her in two different ways. one quiet and soft beneath her control, the other? unapolegtically rough and playful. weekdays are a slow burn of passion and promise, but the weekends are chaos and surrender personified. but when blurred lines, missed promises, and real feelings start to surface, the balance shifts. loyalty gets tested. and annie has to decide what kind of love she really needs, and who’s strong enough to hold all of her.

notes: wanted to start this part off by saying thank you for all the love that was shown on the first part. next, this was originally a three part series, and technically it is. but with the direction this is going i have decided that i want to include a "bonus" part, which you guys will be able to vote on once part three is released. anyways enjoy this part.

Annie rarely took days like this. Days when she had no schedule, no clients, and no ringing phones. It was just her, her best friend, and a mission of no stress, no men, and no bullshit.

The city felt different when you weren't rushing through it. The sun hung low and golden over the sidewalks, music spilled out from open boutique doors, and the shopping district buzzed with the kind of energy that made everything feel lighter.

The two had wandered inside after Mia, Annie’s best friend since freshman year of college, saw a dress hanging in the window. The boutique was exactly Mia’s style and the complete opposite of anything that Annie would wear. 

"Okay, this is cute," Mia said, holding up a burgundy bodycon dress that was so sheer she might as well be naked.

Annie raised an eyebrow. “For who?”

Mia snorted. “You, babes.”

“No way in hell.”

“C’mon, it’s girls' night. Let me live my Barbie dream through you for one damn night.”

Annie crossed her arms, standing in stark contrast to her loud, shorts and crop-top-wearing best friend. Where Mia always came out of the house dressed like a fashionable Instagram baddie, Annie was all soft neutrals, understated jewelry, and calm energy, fitting perfectly in the corporate fashion section on Pinterest.

They were total opposites. Yet somehow they worked well together. It’s been like that since their college days when Mia would drag Annie out of her dorm room to go to parties, campus events, or weekend nights out at the clubs.

“This dress would show my entire ass,” Annie muttered, but her lips were already curling into a reluctant smile.

“That’s the point.” She flung the dress over Annie’s arm and kept pulling pieces off the racks, leather pants, a glittering halter top, a miniskirt so short Annie had to do a double-take.

“Mia.”

“Barbie doll, remember? Go try it on."

Annie sighed dramatically, letting herself be pushed toward the fitting rooms, arms full of things she would never wear in public. But deep down, a spark of something warm flickered in her chest. Was it excitement, maybe? A little fear? Sure.

Ten minutes later, Annie stepped out of the dressing room, and Mia’s eyes nearly fell out of her head.

“Oh my God. Bitch, you need to let me dress you more often.”

Annie tugged down the shorts that kept riding up, cheeks flushed. “I feel so exposed.”

“Ugh, your ass is just so beautiful. How do they handle all this?”

Mia shook her head with her face scrunched up as she gripped her best friend’s large bottom with both hands. Annie had on a dress that was short enough to stop right below her cheeks. The fabric clung to every curve of her body. It was unapologetically bold and not Annie at all. She didn’t look like herself. And maybe that was the point.

“Why did you make me do this?” Annie muttered.

Mia laughed. “You look good, baby. It reminds me of all those times I made you squeeze into my dresses in college so we could get in for free.”

“You always treat me like a damn Barbie doll.”

“Barbie wished she was built like this, actually,” Mia said, her eyebrows raising as she gave Annie another once-over.

The club line was long. People were buzzing to get into the hottest club in the city. Waiting in a line this long was nothing for them to get the experience they were begging for.

Annie stood in the back with her friends, Mia, Natasha, Amber, and Kim. They were all dressed like the problems they were. Annie had on a high-neck, sleeveless black romper, slicked-back ponytail grazing her spine, thigh-high fur boots, and red-tinted shades even though it was nighttime. 

And even though she knew she could, Annie didn’t cut the line. At least not yet. She wanted the word to get out that she was here, especially since she never told the twins that she was coming. So, she sent a simple text to Marcus, the club manager.

Inside the club, bass thumped through the walls like a heartbeat. The dancefloor was already packed, but it was a regular night for the twins. In their private section, cigars lit, the lights low, and glasses full of dark liquor. Smoke leaned back, quiet, watching the crowd. Stack sat with one arm stretched across the back of the booth, grinning lazily, and sipping a glass of bourbon with mischief in his eyes.

Their section was on the private vip level that overlooked the main floor. They stayed up there so they wouldn’t be disturbed. 

Well, they thought they wouldn’t be disturbed. They could see Marcus’s hair flapping as he speedwalked up the stairs in their direction. Stack couldn’t stop the chuckle from coming out of his mouth. 

Marcus breathed out a huff. He knew he was going to sound slightly winded. “Annie’s here, she’s outside.”

Smoke and Stack sat up in unison. They looked at each other before looking at the manager.

“What you mean Annie here?” Stack set his glass of bourbon on the table.

“With who?” Smoke said, voice already darkening.

“I don’t know, she didn’t say,”

“Go get her and put her in the booth right across from us.” 

The manager nodded and turned to leave, already moving.

They exchanged one look, and without a word, Stack snapped his fingers at one of the bottle girls lingering nearby. “Make sure this shit is clean, and tell Kira to come up here.”

The girl nodded and checked the area before running off to find the head server. Less than a minute later, a tall woman with deep skin and honey blonde hair came up to them. She eyed them with a questioning glance.

“Take care of V3 personally. Anything they want, they get,” Stack added. “Just bring the bill here. Got it?”

 Kira nodded and disappeared back down the stairs and into the crowd.

-

The line hadn’t moved much, but Annie didn’t quite care. It wasn’t like they had been out there for a while, nor were they going to continue to stand in line for much longer. 

The club’s front doors opened, and Marcus stepped out. He walked down the line until his eyes met Annie’s.

“Annie, it’s good to see you. Y’all can follow me inside.”

A few people around them murmured, as all five ladies removed themselves from the line and followed the overly energetic man to the front. 

When they reached the front, the bouncer perked up immediately. “Annie,” he said with a grin. “Ain’t seen you in a minute.”

She smiled lightly. “I’ve been busy.”

He stepped aside with a respectful nod, pulling the rope back without hesitation. Marcus led the ladies inside.

The energy in the club felt like magic. It was then that all the ladies knew that tonight was going to be pure fun. 

Annie was at the front, leading her line of bad bitches through the packed crowd. They all climbed their way up the stairs and into the VIP area. Annie immediately recognized the woman who was standing in front of an empty booth. 

“Welcome back, Annie,” she said with a knowing smile. “I’ll be taking care of you ladies tonight.”

The girls dropped into the booth–Mia and Natasha were already taking videos of themselves singing to the music, Amber was looking out at the dance floor trying to find her next boo, and Kim was just all over the place. 

Annie didn’t bother sitting down yet. Not when she could feel two sets of eyes staring into her body with an intensity that only her favorite twins could bring. She knew the attention she was getting tonight would be next level. It was simple, she looked nothing like the Annie that lived in oversized sweaters and work stress.

Tonight, she looked like danger. Like luxury. Like someone who could step on your neck and make you thank her. And the twins just watched it all unfold.

“She don’t even go out like this,” Stack muttered, mouth tight around his blunt.

“And she damn sure don’t dress like that without help,” Smoke replied, leaning forward now, brows drawn.

Their eyes scanned the group, trying to find the one person they knew could convince Annie to get out of her comfort zone. And there she was…Mia. Wearing a short skirt, sky-high heels, and confident as ever. She was all curves and chaos, and she’d been a certified instigator since college.

“Mia.” They both said to each other as they watched her get up and stand next to Annie with a giddy look on her face.

Smoke said nothing, but his jaw flexed as he watched Annie get comfortable in her new booth. She hadn’t looked at them yet. She was too busy smiling and laughing. Kira had pulled out her tablet to put in their drink and food orders.

“You know she’s doing this to blow off steam,” Smoke said eventually.

“She’s doing this to drive me crazy,” Stack muttered, shifting in his seat. “She know what she look like right now?”

“Yeah,” Smoke replied, lips twitching. “That’s the problem.”

Stack shook his head slowly. “She always did like dressing Annie up. Back in school, remember?”

“Yeah. Thought it was cute then.”

“Not cute now.”

Smoke didn’t say anything, just watched as Annie finally pulled her sunglasses down and looked right at them. She didn’t flinch, smile, or wave. She just held their gaze for a second, then turned back to her girls.

Stack leaned back, drumming his fingers once against the glass in his hand. And Smoke? His eyes never left hers.

“Nah,” he muttered. “That shit’s not sliding.”

-

The girls had officially taken over their section. Shots were lined up, and music vibrated through the walls. Mia was two drinks past tipsy and climbing into the booth to dance, one hand in the air, the other slapping the back of Annie’s thigh.

Annie was in that sweet space between tipsy and drunk. That floaty, confident place where everything felt like it sparkled. Her legs were warm. Her lips tingled. She couldn’t stop laughing. She wasn’t thinking about anything. Not work, deadlines, or even—

Her eyes flicked up across the club. The twins. That’s when she saw them.

A group of women had just walked past the velvet rope, dressed to kill. Long legs with confidence and cleavage. They walked straight into the twins’ section as if they were invited. Annie stopped mid-laugh, tongue tucked behind her teeth, watching.

The girls greeted Smoke and Stack like old flings. They were touchy, flirty, and all too familiar. One with a blunt bob leaned into Smoke’s space, resting her hand on his thigh like it belonged there. Another was already pouring herself a drink in front of Stack, laughing a little too hard, pressing in a little too close.

Then she watched as a woman who seemed to appear out of thin air strutted her way right in front of Stack. Annie blinked, confused. She could make out the way the woman leaned forward, both hands on either of Stack’s knees. She whispered something in his ear and stood back up, straightening out her low-cut dress. The woman walked off like nothing had happened, but in Annie’s eyes, something had. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Stack was always the more social one. His eyes subtly followed the women’s exit as he passed the girls shots from one of their unopened bottles.

Then, feeling as if the energy was going in that direction, one of the women, the boldest of the bunch, came and draped herself right across Stack’s lap. Another tried the same thing with Smoke, and that’s when everything shifted.

Smoke didn’t hesitate. He shoved the woman off his lap with zero gentleness. Stack moved differently. He didn’t push, just slid his arm between him and the woman, lifted her gently, and guided her off him like he was correcting a child. It was smooth with barely even a frown.

But Annie felt her blood run hot anyway. Because she saw it all. And she knew they saw her seeing it.

She didn’t say anything. She just turned back to her girls, mouth pressed into a smile that didn’t touch her eyes.

“Mia,” she said calmly. “Let’s get another drink.”

Mia caught the look her friend gave her and called out for Kira. She ordered a round of the club’s special cocktails. Minutes later, the drinks landed on their table, cold and glistening.

Her friend, Amber, grabbed the almost empty bottle of 1942 and tipped it straight into Annie’s mouth, holding her chin. Annie didn’t fight it. She opened wide and swallowed it down clean, wiping the corner of her mouth with her manicured thumb as the bass in the club dropped.

And that was the moment something in her clicked. She didn’t turn around. Didn’t check to see if they were still looking. She knew they were. So she started dancing.

They all did. Grinding against each other, hands in the air, hips catching the beat with slow, heavy rolls. But Annie stole the show. Her romper barely covered the top of her thighs. And Mia was doing her usual, instigating Annie’s behavior.

The booth was filled with energy. Annie laughed, but kept her eyes up. And she could still feel it. The heat of two stares burning holes into her from across the room. 

Stack’s jaw was tight. Smoke wasn’t blinking. Neither of them looked amused.

Annie smiled as she stepped away from her friends and yelled about needing to use the bathroom. She didn’t have to actually use it, but they didn’t need to know that. Mia screamed back about coming with her, but Annie dismissed her, saying she would be fine.

Instead, she walked in the direction of where her true target went. The upper floor bathroom that only a few had real access to. And Annie was more confident in her walk than ever as she strutted past watchful eyes.

She entered the richly decorated room and headed straight for the sinks. She set her purse down and began to dig through, looking for items to touch herself up with.

Just as she found her lipgloss, the sound of a toilet flushing and heels clicking on the ground. The woman exited the stall, not making eye contact with Annie.

She strolled right up to the sink and began to wash her hands. Annie eyed her through the mirror, noting the way she was so careful with rubbing her hands, and how she flipped her hair with a slight headshake. It was almost like she was trying to tell Annie something without actually saying it. So, Annie decided to light the fire.

“Cute dress,” Annie stated as she slowly applied her lip gloss.

The woman’s eyes briefly flickered over to her. Something was passing through them that made Annie smirk. The tension between them was thick.

“Thank you,” despite her body language, the woman sounded as confident and as sharp as ever.

“Mhm.” Annie hummed after smacking her lips together.

Annie ran her hands down her ponytail and flicked it as she turned away and walked out of the bathroom. Her hips having a little more extra sway to them than normal.

-

It was getting later in the night, and the girls were still in their section, barely hanging on. Drinks kept coming, bodies still swaying, but the energy was winding down.

Mia, especially, was gone. She’d been slurring for the last thirty minutes, asking for water and then sipping tequila like it was water. At some point, she took her heels off, but it didn’t matter.

Annie leaned over to check on her. “You good?”

Mia squinted, blinking slowly. “My wife’s coming. I already called her. I’m too drunk.”

Annie laughed, slouching further into the booth. “Of course you did.”

Fifteen minutes later, Mia’s wife arrived, looking put together like she hadn’t just been called out of bed. Black leather trench, braided bun, silver hoops, and eyes that immediately scanned for her wife. She found Mia in the booth, halfway laid across two of her friends. 

And Annie? She was with them now. Somehow, at some point, she’d made her way over to their booth and plopped down right between them like it was hers.

Annie shakily stood to help, but Mia’s wife was already moving, lifting her up like muscle memory. She stopped by the twins’ section on the way out. She saw the way Annie looked, sunglasses covering her eyes to hide the drunkenness.

“Yours too, huh?” Mia’s wife said with a tired smile.

“Full-time job,” Stack replied.

“She’s worse when she’s drunk,” she added, readjusting Mia’s weight in her arms.

“Same,” Smoke said.

The woman chuckled and walked away with Mia’s arms wrapped tight around her neck and legs swinging. As soon as she left, Smoke’s eyes drifted over to Annie

She had her legs crossed and her head tilted back. One of her hands was on each of their thighs. She was swaying gently in her seat, hips rocking to the beat, rubbing circles into both of their legs like it was the most casual thing in the world. Completely drunk.

Stack looked down at her, then at Smoke. “She done.”

Smoke nodded.  “She ain’t gonna remember none of this.”

They both leaned in as Annie shifted, pressing her thigh into Smoke and laying her head lightly on Stack’s shoulder.

“Y’all smell good,” she mumbled.

Stack smirked. “Yeah, it’s time to go.”

Smoke was already texting, trying to get a car to take Annie’s friends home.

“I got a car for the girls, and ours will be outside in five,” he said to Stack.

Annie reached up and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and looked at both of them. She just giggled. Not having anything to say.

Stack leaned back, arms resting behind her, and Smoke just watched her, unreadable, jaw set tight. Neither of them touched her.

-

Getting out of the club was chaos.

The floor was packed, people shoulder to shoulder, music still going hard even though it was well past two. Everyone wanted to get one last drink, one last dance, one last picture. But the moment Annie stood up, dazed, off-balance, giggling at nothing, the twins moved like clockwork.

Smoke stepped in front of her, threading his fingers through hers. “Stay close.”

Stack dropped a hand to her lower back. “Don’t let go.”

They guided her through the crowd with Smoke leading, Stack pressed behind, keeping her centered between them. People tried to move in, but bouncers cleared the path before any of them had to raise their voices.

Annie stumbled once, and Smoke caught her.

Stack muttered behind her, “Be careful, baby.”

Annie just nodded her head and let herself be guided out of the club.

The car was already waiting out front, a tinted SUV with the back door open. Stack helped her in, making sure to grip her waist as she drunkenly clambered inside.

“I’m fine.” Annie slurred as she settled down.

“No, you’re not,” Smoke said, pulling her seatbelt across her body.

“I’m sexy.”

Stack snorted. “Facts. But you still not fine.”

Smoke shut the door before Annie could respond, and the two men got in the front of the car. 

The ride wasn’t long, but her energy had shifted to something slower now. The drunk was settling deep into her bones. They rode in semi-silence. The only sound was Annie humming while staring out the window.

When they pulled up in front of her building, she didn’t move.

Smoke tried first. “Come on. Time to go in.”

Annie turned her head away from them. “No.”

Stack raised an eyebrow. “No?”

She mumbled something they couldn’t hear.

Smoke pushed the door open wider to give her more room to step out. “Alright. Let’s go.”

She swung her leg out, then immediately cursed. “My feet hurt.”

“Shouldn’t’ve worn those damn boots,” Stack said, crouching in front of her. “Come here.”

She hesitated, then gave him her foot with a dramatic sigh like she was doing him a favor.

He slid one boot off, then the other, setting them aside. “Dramatic.”

“Mean,” she mumbled.

Stack smirked, standing up with her boots in one hand, her small purse now dangling from his wrist. “Brat.”

“I’m not a brat,” she said with her head leaning against the door.

“You’re acting like one.”

She swatted at him and missed.

Stack stood up. “I got your stuff. Come on, baby girl.”

Annie sat barefoot in the car, arms crossed. “I don’t wanna walk.”

“Then don’t,” Smoke said simply.

He turned, dropped to one knee at the curb, and looked over his shoulder. “Get on.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Annie.”

She hesitated for all of three seconds before climbing on, arms around his neck, chest pressed to his back. He lifted her easily, like he’d done it a hundred times.

Stack followed, heels in one hand, her purse slung over the other shoulder. They didn’t speak until they were inside her building, heading for the elevator.

Smoke adjusted her legs on his back. “She sleep yet?”

“Nah, but she will be,” Stack muttered.

“I can hear y’all,” Annie mumbled into Smoke’s neck.

Stack smiled while Smoke shook his head.

Things seemed to shift after that night at the club, and Annie didn’t know what it was. Things with Stack had been a little rocky. And at first they were small, but they only seemed to get bigger as time passed. 

It started on a Friday night. Annie had gotten Smoke to drop her off at Stack’s after she had a wonderful off-day from work, exploring the city.

So here she was, sitting on his couch in a hoodie and too-short shorts. She had ordered his favorite takeout from the little Japanese spot around the corner. A playlist they had made after they found the perfect set of songs to make out to was playing throughout the apartment. 

Stack walked in forty minutes later, with no prior text or phone call. He didn’t have an explanation upon his entry. He simply kissed her on the cheek and walked into the back room. 

“Babe?” she called gently.

He came back out, rubbing his neck. “Long day.”

“Can we still watch something?”

“Not tonight. I’m tired, baby.”

That night, he didn’t even touch the food.

The next Monday, they were supposed to go out for the evening. It was an apology date for the weekend prior. He had it all set up for the whole week: dinner and maybe a walk if the weather held up.

Annie was fully prepared. She had on that soft, wine-colored dress she knew he liked. She even did her makeup, despite being tired from work. She had gotten her hair braided back so she didn’t have to worry about that. 

She was fully dressed and ready a little earlier than planned, so she waited. But as she waited, an hour passed, then another. And there was still no call nor text, not even a damn pigeon message. And after the restaurant had been closed for twenty minutes, and she had started to take off her clothes and makeup, she received a text. He didn’t even have the decency to call her.

Sorry baby. I got caught up in some work stuff. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

And yet, he didn’t keep his word.

 A week later, they went shopping. It wasn’t planned. Annie had mentioned needing a new dress, and Stack said he’d take her. Maybe make a day out of it.

And for a minute, it was nice. But then something shifted.

They stopped in front of a high-end boutique, and Stack’s attention drifted. He pointed at a pair of leopard print heeled boots that look like they come up to the calf. 

“You’d look good in those.”

Annie blinked. “When have I ever worn something like that?”

He didn’t answer, just nodded, brows still knit like he hadn’t really heard her.

Inside the store, he eyed a ruched hot-pink mini-dress that was way more Mia’s speed than Annie’s.

“That’s cute,” he said.

Annie cocked her head. “For who?”

Stack looked at her, then back at the rack.

“…Never mind.”

She didn’t say anything else, but she saw it. She felt the space between them moving them even further apart.

And it only continued to grow further. It continued on a Thursday night. Annie had told him she had a “small surprise” waiting. Nothing serious. “Just come hungry,” she’d said.

Stack had texted at 6:12 PM:

Be there around 7.

By 8:15, the candles on the dining table had burned halfway down. The food she’d cooked, chili honey salmon, roasted garlic asparagus, and jasmine rice, had gone from hot to warm under foil.

And Annie? She’d changed out of her cooking clothes and into the dark red lace set Mia picked out for her. The one with the strappy sides and matching robe that barely covered her ass. And she waited. Laid out on her couch, checking her phone periodically.

At 10:03 PM, she gave up. Blew out the candles, packed up the food, took off the lingerie, and slipped into a hoodie. She didn’t even turn off the lights, just crawled into bed in silence.

When Stack finally walked in close to midnight, he was quiet. Tired. Head full of other things. He turned into the kitchen and saw the table. The setup was supposed to be an indication of romance. The foil-covered plates, the half-burned candles, and a single wine glass sat on the table.

And then, he walked into the bedroom and saw her curled up, makeup still on. He cursed under his breath. He saw her bare legs tangled in the sheets. Then he looked at the lingerie tossed half-forgotten over the edge of the bed.

He sat down hard in the chair beside her dresser and ran both hands over his face. “What the fuck am I doing...”

-

Fridays usually felt like a breath. But not today.

Annie sat on the bench outside her office building, arms crossed, one heel tapping slow against the concrete. Her phone sat screen-up beside her, untouched, though she’d checked it five times in the last fifteen minutes. Then ten more times before that.

The sun had dipped below the skyline. Office lights clicked off around her one by one. Traffic had started thinning out, and the air was cooling.

Stack was supposed to pick her up an hour and a half ago. She hadn’t heard a word until ten minutes ago, just a vague “on my way” text that didn’t say much and meant less.

Now she wasn’t even looking at her phone. She was just sitting, cold, quiet, and pissed.

The blacked-out Charger finally pulled up. Stack hopped out before it even came to a stop, hands up, voice soft and careful.

“I know, I know, I’m late. I’m sorry, shit got tied up. I tried, baby, I really did.”

Annie didn’t move. She didn’t stand and didn’t look at him.

He slowed as he got close. “You mad?”

She tilted her head and looked at him flatly. “What gave it away?”

Stack sighed. “Annie–”

“I sat out here for almost two hours. In heels and these hot ass clothes. While the cleaning staff left before me.”

“I know. I’m not tryna make excuses–”

“But you’re about to make some, right?”

His jaw flexed. “No. I just…I didn’t mean to keep you waiting like that. I should’ve said something.”

“You think?”

She finally stood up slowly, with a stiffness in her legs from sitting too long, and looked him dead in the face.

“I don’t need much from you. But I do need you to show up when you say you’re going to. That’s bare minimum shit, Elias.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at her, eyes softer than usual, hands in his pockets, like he was trying not to fuck it up worse.

“You’re right,” he said. “I messed up.”

“And I’m not doing that thing,” she added, stepping closer, voice lower, “where I pretend like it’s no big deal just because you look good and call me baby when I get in the car. That shit doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“I don’t want it to,” he said, quiet and honest. “I want to do better.”

Annie stared at him for a beat, then finally walked past him and got into the car without a word. Stack let out a slow breath and followed.

The silence in the car was heavy. But for once, Stack didn’t try to fill it with jokes, or charm, or bullshit. He just drove. And for the first time in a long time, Annie let him sit in the weight of what he’d caused. Because this wasn’t about one missed ride. No, this was about her time, trust, and worth. And it seems like all of it was being taken for granted. 

If Stack wanted to keep her, he was going to have to learn how to carry that right.

-

The room was dim. The TV was on low, and the sheets were still warm. Stack was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, humming something under his breath, like he didn’t have Annie’s frustration from earlier still sitting thick in the air.

Annie lay in his bed, face bare, bonnet on, oversized tee hugging her curves. She was finally settled. Or trying to be. That’s when her phone lit up with a FaceTime call. It would be Mia

She rolled her eyes but answered anyway. “Girl.”

The screen opened up to Mia in the passenger seat of a car, hair pulled up, oversized sunglasses, even though it was dark. Her wife was in the driver's seat, hands on the wheel, chewing gum, vibing to something low on the radio.

“Hey, babes, you look comfortable. Am I interrupting something?”

Annie exhaled. “Nope, I just laid down. He’s in the bathroom.”

Mia grinned. “Perfect. I gotta say something, and I don’t want background noise.”

“So Kennedy took me to the mall earlier today,” Mia continued, flipping the camera around to show a shiny red-bottom shoebox on her lap. “Got me some new So Kates, right?”

Annie smiled, still slow and tired. “She spoils you.”

“Like I deserve,” Mia said with a smirk. “But anyway, while we were at the mall, guess who I saw?”

Annie blinked. “Please don’t say somebody stupid.”

“Stack…” Mia paused before continuing. “With some girl.”

That made Annie sit up a little. “Where?”

“They were in Gucci. He had his arm around her waist and everything. Then they walked into La Perla.”

Annie’s eyebrows furrowed as she was trying to put the pieces together.

Mia leaned in closer to the camera. “They looked real comfortable with each other. And she kind of looked like that girl you pointed out at the club a while back. This was like…I wanna say an hour, maybe before you texted me saying he was late.”

Annie’s chest tightened. She glanced toward the bathroom. The sound of running water still going.

“You sure it was him?”

“Annie,” Mia said flatly. “I’ve known that man as long as I’ve known you. That was definitely him.”

“Maybe it was a cousin or something–”

“Baby, let’s not do that. He had his hand on her waist. Ain’t no cousin getting Gucci bags with his arm around her in broad daylight. And don’t tell me he was buying you lingerie either, ‘cause you’d already been waiting on that damn bench for over an hour when I called.”

Annie didn’t respond.

Mia’s tone softened slightly. “I’m not saying this to hurt you. You know I love you. And yeah, I’ve known the twins just as long as you. But my loyalty ain’t to them.”

“I know.”

“I’m telling you because I don’t like how he left you sitting out there. And now this? I’m just saying you need to put it together.”

The camera jostled as Mia’s wife pulled into their neighborhood.

“We just got home, so call me tomorrow.”

Annie ended the call without saying goodbye.

The bathroom door opened. Stack stepped out in just his sweats, wiping his face with a towel.

He glanced over, casually. “You good?”

Annie’s face was unreadable. But on the inside? Her stomach was tight. Mind racing. That feeling of something not adding up gripped the back of her neck like a warning.

“Yeah,” she said.

She lied.

-

-

-

Taglist: @stormynovashambler @coolfoodrunworld-blog @katezy2x

[brownlyfe]

Love A Woman: What About Us?

A Three-Part Modern Day Au

Part 1

pairing: elijah “smoke" moore x annie x elias "stack" moore

cw: modern!au, slightly ooc

word count: 5,443

summary: annie is caught between two brothers who show their love for her in two different ways. one quiet and soft beneath her control, the other? unapolegtically rough and playful. weekdays are a slow burn of passion and promise, but the weekends are chaos and surrender personified. but when blurred lines, missed promises, and real feelings start to surface, the balance shifts. loyalty gets tested. and annie has to decide what kind of love she really needs, and who’s strong enough to hold all of her.

notes: wanted to start this part off by saying thank you for all the love that was shown on the first part. next, this was originally a three part series, and technically it is. but with the direction this is going i have decided that i want to include a "bonus" part, which you guys will be able to vote on once part three is released. anyways enjoy this part.

Annie rarely took days like this. Days when she had no schedule, no clients, and no ringing phones. It was just her, her best friend, and a mission of no stress, no men, and no bullshit.

The city felt different when you weren't rushing through it. The sun hung low and golden over the sidewalks, music spilled out from open boutique doors, and the shopping district buzzed with the kind of energy that made everything feel lighter.

The two had wandered inside after Mia, Annie’s best friend since freshman year of college, saw a dress hanging in the window. The boutique was exactly Mia’s style and the complete opposite of anything that Annie would wear. 

"Okay, this is cute," Mia said, holding up a burgundy bodycon dress that was so sheer she might as well be naked.

Annie raised an eyebrow. “For who?”

Mia snorted. “You, babes.”

“No way in hell.”

“C’mon, it’s girls' night. Let me live my Barbie dream through you for one damn night.”

Annie crossed her arms, standing in stark contrast to her loud, shorts and crop-top-wearing best friend. Where Mia always came out of the house dressed like a fashionable Instagram baddie, Annie was all soft neutrals, understated jewelry, and calm energy, fitting perfectly in the corporate fashion section on Pinterest.

They were total opposites. Yet somehow they worked well together. It’s been like that since their college days when Mia would drag Annie out of her dorm room to go to parties, campus events, or weekend nights out at the clubs.

“This dress would show my entire ass,” Annie muttered, but her lips were already curling into a reluctant smile.

“That’s the point.” She flung the dress over Annie’s arm and kept pulling pieces off the racks, leather pants, a glittering halter top, a miniskirt so short Annie had to do a double-take.

“Mia.”

“Barbie doll, remember? Go try it on."

Annie sighed dramatically, letting herself be pushed toward the fitting rooms, arms full of things she would never wear in public. But deep down, a spark of something warm flickered in her chest. Was it excitement, maybe? A little fear? Sure.

Ten minutes later, Annie stepped out of the dressing room, and Mia’s eyes nearly fell out of her head.

“Oh my God. Bitch, you need to let me dress you more often.”

Annie tugged down the shorts that kept riding up, cheeks flushed. “I feel so exposed.”

“Ugh, your ass is just so beautiful. How do they handle all this?”

Mia shook her head with her face scrunched up as she gripped her best friend’s large bottom with both hands. Annie had on a dress that was short enough to stop right below her cheeks. The fabric clung to every curve of her body. It was unapologetically bold and not Annie at all. She didn’t look like herself. And maybe that was the point.

“Why did you make me do this?” Annie muttered.

Mia laughed. “You look good, baby. It reminds me of all those times I made you squeeze into my dresses in college so we could get in for free.”

“You always treat me like a damn Barbie doll.”

“Barbie wished she was built like this, actually,” Mia said, her eyebrows raising as she gave Annie another once-over.

The club line was long. People were buzzing to get into the hottest club in the city. Waiting in a line this long was nothing for them to get the experience they were begging for.

Annie stood in the back with her friends, Mia, Natasha, Amber, and Kim. They were all dressed like the problems they were. Annie had on a high-neck, sleeveless black romper, slicked-back ponytail grazing her spine, thigh-high fur boots, and red-tinted shades even though it was nighttime. 

And even though she knew she could, Annie didn’t cut the line. At least not yet. She wanted the word to get out that she was here, especially since she never told the twins that she was coming. So, she sent a simple text to Marcus, the club manager.

Inside the club, bass thumped through the walls like a heartbeat. The dancefloor was already packed, but it was a regular night for the twins. In their private section, cigars lit, the lights low, and glasses full of dark liquor. Smoke leaned back, quiet, watching the crowd. Stack sat with one arm stretched across the back of the booth, grinning lazily, and sipping a glass of bourbon with mischief in his eyes.

Their section was on the private vip level that overlooked the main floor. They stayed up there so they wouldn’t be disturbed. 

Well, they thought they wouldn’t be disturbed. They could see Marcus’s hair flapping as he speedwalked up the stairs in their direction. Stack couldn’t stop the chuckle from coming out of his mouth. 

Marcus breathed out a huff. He knew he was going to sound slightly winded. “Annie’s here, she’s outside.”

Smoke and Stack sat up in unison. They looked at each other before looking at the manager.

“What you mean Annie here?” Stack set his glass of bourbon on the table.

“With who?” Smoke said, voice already darkening.

“I don’t know, she didn’t say,”

“Go get her and put her in the booth right across from us.” 

The manager nodded and turned to leave, already moving.

They exchanged one look, and without a word, Stack snapped his fingers at one of the bottle girls lingering nearby. “Make sure this shit is clean, and tell Kira to come up here.”

The girl nodded and checked the area before running off to find the head server. Less than a minute later, a tall woman with deep skin and honey blonde hair came up to them. She eyed them with a questioning glance.

“Take care of V3 personally. Anything they want, they get,” Stack added. “Just bring the bill here. Got it?”

 Kira nodded and disappeared back down the stairs and into the crowd.

-

The line hadn’t moved much, but Annie didn’t quite care. It wasn’t like they had been out there for a while, nor were they going to continue to stand in line for much longer. 

The club’s front doors opened, and Marcus stepped out. He walked down the line until his eyes met Annie’s.

“Annie, it’s good to see you. Y’all can follow me inside.”

A few people around them murmured, as all five ladies removed themselves from the line and followed the overly energetic man to the front. 

When they reached the front, the bouncer perked up immediately. “Annie,” he said with a grin. “Ain’t seen you in a minute.”

She smiled lightly. “I’ve been busy.”

He stepped aside with a respectful nod, pulling the rope back without hesitation. Marcus led the ladies inside.

The energy in the club felt like magic. It was then that all the ladies knew that tonight was going to be pure fun. 

Annie was at the front, leading her line of bad bitches through the packed crowd. They all climbed their way up the stairs and into the VIP area. Annie immediately recognized the woman who was standing in front of an empty booth. 

“Welcome back, Annie,” she said with a knowing smile. “I’ll be taking care of you ladies tonight.”

The girls dropped into the booth–Mia and Natasha were already taking videos of themselves singing to the music, Amber was looking out at the dance floor trying to find her next boo, and Kim was just all over the place. 

Annie didn’t bother sitting down yet. Not when she could feel two sets of eyes staring into her body with an intensity that only her favorite twins could bring. She knew the attention she was getting tonight would be next level. It was simple, she looked nothing like the Annie that lived in oversized sweaters and work stress.

Tonight, she looked like danger. Like luxury. Like someone who could step on your neck and make you thank her. And the twins just watched it all unfold.

“She don’t even go out like this,” Stack muttered, mouth tight around his blunt.

“And she damn sure don’t dress like that without help,” Smoke replied, leaning forward now, brows drawn.

Their eyes scanned the group, trying to find the one person they knew could convince Annie to get out of her comfort zone. And there she was…Mia. Wearing a short skirt, sky-high heels, and confident as ever. She was all curves and chaos, and she’d been a certified instigator since college.

“Mia.” They both said to each other as they watched her get up and stand next to Annie with a giddy look on her face.

Smoke said nothing, but his jaw flexed as he watched Annie get comfortable in her new booth. She hadn’t looked at them yet. She was too busy smiling and laughing. Kira had pulled out her tablet to put in their drink and food orders.

“You know she’s doing this to blow off steam,” Smoke said eventually.

“She’s doing this to drive me crazy,” Stack muttered, shifting in his seat. “She know what she look like right now?”

“Yeah,” Smoke replied, lips twitching. “That’s the problem.”

Stack shook his head slowly. “She always did like dressing Annie up. Back in school, remember?”

“Yeah. Thought it was cute then.”

“Not cute now.”

Smoke didn’t say anything, just watched as Annie finally pulled her sunglasses down and looked right at them. She didn’t flinch, smile, or wave. She just held their gaze for a second, then turned back to her girls.

Stack leaned back, drumming his fingers once against the glass in his hand. And Smoke? His eyes never left hers.

“Nah,” he muttered. “That shit’s not sliding.”

-

The girls had officially taken over their section. Shots were lined up, and music vibrated through the walls. Mia was two drinks past tipsy and climbing into the booth to dance, one hand in the air, the other slapping the back of Annie’s thigh.

Annie was in that sweet space between tipsy and drunk. That floaty, confident place where everything felt like it sparkled. Her legs were warm. Her lips tingled. She couldn’t stop laughing. She wasn’t thinking about anything. Not work, deadlines, or even—

Her eyes flicked up across the club. The twins. That’s when she saw them.

A group of women had just walked past the velvet rope, dressed to kill. Long legs with confidence and cleavage. They walked straight into the twins’ section as if they were invited. Annie stopped mid-laugh, tongue tucked behind her teeth, watching.

The girls greeted Smoke and Stack like old flings. They were touchy, flirty, and all too familiar. One with a blunt bob leaned into Smoke’s space, resting her hand on his thigh like it belonged there. Another was already pouring herself a drink in front of Stack, laughing a little too hard, pressing in a little too close.

Then she watched as a woman who seemed to appear out of thin air strutted her way right in front of Stack. Annie blinked, confused. She could make out the way the woman leaned forward, both hands on either of Stack’s knees. She whispered something in his ear and stood back up, straightening out her low-cut dress. The woman walked off like nothing had happened, but in Annie’s eyes, something had. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Stack was always the more social one. His eyes subtly followed the women’s exit as he passed the girls shots from one of their unopened bottles.

Then, feeling as if the energy was going in that direction, one of the women, the boldest of the bunch, came and draped herself right across Stack’s lap. Another tried the same thing with Smoke, and that’s when everything shifted.

Smoke didn’t hesitate. He shoved the woman off his lap with zero gentleness. Stack moved differently. He didn’t push, just slid his arm between him and the woman, lifted her gently, and guided her off him like he was correcting a child. It was smooth with barely even a frown.

But Annie felt her blood run hot anyway. Because she saw it all. And she knew they saw her seeing it.

She didn’t say anything. She just turned back to her girls, mouth pressed into a smile that didn’t touch her eyes.

“Mia,” she said calmly. “Let’s get another drink.”

Mia caught the look her friend gave her and called out for Kira. She ordered a round of the club’s special cocktails. Minutes later, the drinks landed on their table, cold and glistening.

Her friend, Amber, grabbed the almost empty bottle of 1942 and tipped it straight into Annie’s mouth, holding her chin. Annie didn’t fight it. She opened wide and swallowed it down clean, wiping the corner of her mouth with her manicured thumb as the bass in the club dropped.

And that was the moment something in her clicked. She didn’t turn around. Didn’t check to see if they were still looking. She knew they were. So she started dancing.

They all did. Grinding against each other, hands in the air, hips catching the beat with slow, heavy rolls. But Annie stole the show. Her romper barely covered the top of her thighs. And Mia was doing her usual, instigating Annie’s behavior.

The booth was filled with energy. Annie laughed, but kept her eyes up. And she could still feel it. The heat of two stares burning holes into her from across the room. 

Stack’s jaw was tight. Smoke wasn’t blinking. Neither of them looked amused.

Annie smiled as she stepped away from her friends and yelled about needing to use the bathroom. She didn’t have to actually use it, but they didn’t need to know that. Mia screamed back about coming with her, but Annie dismissed her, saying she would be fine.

Instead, she walked in the direction of where her true target went. The upper floor bathroom that only a few had real access to. And Annie was more confident in her walk than ever as she strutted past watchful eyes.

She entered the richly decorated room and headed straight for the sinks. She set her purse down and began to dig through, looking for items to touch herself up with.

Just as she found her lipgloss, the sound of a toilet flushing and heels clicking on the ground. The woman exited the stall, not making eye contact with Annie.

She strolled right up to the sink and began to wash her hands. Annie eyed her through the mirror, noting the way she was so careful with rubbing her hands, and how she flipped her hair with a slight headshake. It was almost like she was trying to tell Annie something without actually saying it. So, Annie decided to light the fire.

“Cute dress,” Annie stated as she slowly applied her lip gloss.

The woman’s eyes briefly flickered over to her. Something was passing through them that made Annie smirk. The tension between them was thick.

“Thank you,” despite her body language, the woman sounded as confident and as sharp as ever.

“Mhm.” Annie hummed after smacking her lips together.

Annie ran her hands down her ponytail and flicked it as she turned away and walked out of the bathroom. Her hips having a little more extra sway to them than normal.

-

It was getting later in the night, and the girls were still in their section, barely hanging on. Drinks kept coming, bodies still swaying, but the energy was winding down.

Mia, especially, was gone. She’d been slurring for the last thirty minutes, asking for water and then sipping tequila like it was water. At some point, she took her heels off, but it didn’t matter.

Annie leaned over to check on her. “You good?”

Mia squinted, blinking slowly. “My wife’s coming. I already called her. I’m too drunk.”

Annie laughed, slouching further into the booth. “Of course you did.”

Fifteen minutes later, Mia’s wife arrived, looking put together like she hadn’t just been called out of bed. Black leather trench, braided bun, silver hoops, and eyes that immediately scanned for her wife. She found Mia in the booth, halfway laid across two of her friends. 

And Annie? She was with them now. Somehow, at some point, she’d made her way over to their booth and plopped down right between them like it was hers.

Annie shakily stood to help, but Mia’s wife was already moving, lifting her up like muscle memory. She stopped by the twins’ section on the way out. She saw the way Annie looked, sunglasses covering her eyes to hide the drunkenness.

“Yours too, huh?” Mia’s wife said with a tired smile.

“Full-time job,” Stack replied.

“She’s worse when she’s drunk,” she added, readjusting Mia’s weight in her arms.

“Same,” Smoke said.

The woman chuckled and walked away with Mia’s arms wrapped tight around her neck and legs swinging. As soon as she left, Smoke’s eyes drifted over to Annie

She had her legs crossed and her head tilted back. One of her hands was on each of their thighs. She was swaying gently in her seat, hips rocking to the beat, rubbing circles into both of their legs like it was the most casual thing in the world. Completely drunk.

Stack looked down at her, then at Smoke. “She done.”

Smoke nodded.  “She ain’t gonna remember none of this.”

They both leaned in as Annie shifted, pressing her thigh into Smoke and laying her head lightly on Stack’s shoulder.

“Y’all smell good,” she mumbled.

Stack smirked. “Yeah, it’s time to go.”

Smoke was already texting, trying to get a car to take Annie’s friends home.

“I got a car for the girls, and ours will be outside in five,” he said to Stack.

Annie reached up and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and looked at both of them. She just giggled. Not having anything to say.

Stack leaned back, arms resting behind her, and Smoke just watched her, unreadable, jaw set tight. Neither of them touched her.

-

Getting out of the club was chaos.

The floor was packed, people shoulder to shoulder, music still going hard even though it was well past two. Everyone wanted to get one last drink, one last dance, one last picture. But the moment Annie stood up, dazed, off-balance, giggling at nothing, the twins moved like clockwork.

Smoke stepped in front of her, threading his fingers through hers. “Stay close.”

Stack dropped a hand to her lower back. “Don’t let go.”

They guided her through the crowd with Smoke leading, Stack pressed behind, keeping her centered between them. People tried to move in, but bouncers cleared the path before any of them had to raise their voices.

Annie stumbled once, and Smoke caught her.

Stack muttered behind her, “Be careful, baby.”

Annie just nodded her head and let herself be guided out of the club.

The car was already waiting out front, a tinted SUV with the back door open. Stack helped her in, making sure to grip her waist as she drunkenly clambered inside.

“I’m fine.” Annie slurred as she settled down.

“No, you’re not,” Smoke said, pulling her seatbelt across her body.

“I’m sexy.”

Stack snorted. “Facts. But you still not fine.”

Smoke shut the door before Annie could respond, and the two men got in the front of the car. 

The ride wasn’t long, but her energy had shifted to something slower now. The drunk was settling deep into her bones. They rode in semi-silence. The only sound was Annie humming while staring out the window.

When they pulled up in front of her building, she didn’t move.

Smoke tried first. “Come on. Time to go in.”

Annie turned her head away from them. “No.”

Stack raised an eyebrow. “No?”

She mumbled something they couldn’t hear.

Smoke pushed the door open wider to give her more room to step out. “Alright. Let’s go.”

She swung her leg out, then immediately cursed. “My feet hurt.”

“Shouldn’t’ve worn those damn boots,” Stack said, crouching in front of her. “Come here.”

She hesitated, then gave him her foot with a dramatic sigh like she was doing him a favor.

He slid one boot off, then the other, setting them aside. “Dramatic.”

“Mean,” she mumbled.

Stack smirked, standing up with her boots in one hand, her small purse now dangling from his wrist. “Brat.”

“I’m not a brat,” she said with her head leaning against the door.

“You’re acting like one.”

She swatted at him and missed.

Stack stood up. “I got your stuff. Come on, baby girl.”

Annie sat barefoot in the car, arms crossed. “I don’t wanna walk.”

“Then don’t,” Smoke said simply.

He turned, dropped to one knee at the curb, and looked over his shoulder. “Get on.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Annie.”

She hesitated for all of three seconds before climbing on, arms around his neck, chest pressed to his back. He lifted her easily, like he’d done it a hundred times.

Stack followed, heels in one hand, her purse slung over the other shoulder. They didn’t speak until they were inside her building, heading for the elevator.

Smoke adjusted her legs on his back. “She sleep yet?”

“Nah, but she will be,” Stack muttered.

“I can hear y’all,” Annie mumbled into Smoke’s neck.

Stack smiled while Smoke shook his head.

Things seemed to shift after that night at the club, and Annie didn’t know what it was. Things with Stack had been a little rocky. And at first they were small, but they only seemed to get bigger as time passed. 

It started on a Friday night. Annie had gotten Smoke to drop her off at Stack’s after she had a wonderful off-day from work, exploring the city.

So here she was, sitting on his couch in a hoodie and too-short shorts. She had ordered his favorite takeout from the little Japanese spot around the corner. A playlist they had made after they found the perfect set of songs to make out to was playing throughout the apartment. 

Stack walked in forty minutes later, with no prior text or phone call. He didn’t have an explanation upon his entry. He simply kissed her on the cheek and walked into the back room. 

“Babe?” she called gently.

He came back out, rubbing his neck. “Long day.”

“Can we still watch something?”

“Not tonight. I’m tired, baby.”

That night, he didn’t even touch the food.

The next Monday, they were supposed to go out for the evening. It was an apology date for the weekend prior. He had it all set up for the whole week: dinner and maybe a walk if the weather held up.

Annie was fully prepared. She had on that soft, wine-colored dress she knew he liked. She even did her makeup, despite being tired from work. She had gotten her hair braided back so she didn’t have to worry about that. 

She was fully dressed and ready a little earlier than planned, so she waited. But as she waited, an hour passed, then another. And there was still no call nor text, not even a damn pigeon message. And after the restaurant had been closed for twenty minutes, and she had started to take off her clothes and makeup, she received a text. He didn’t even have the decency to call her.

Sorry baby. I got caught up in some work stuff. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

And yet, he didn’t keep his word.

 A week later, they went shopping. It wasn’t planned. Annie had mentioned needing a new dress, and Stack said he’d take her. Maybe make a day out of it.

And for a minute, it was nice. But then something shifted.

They stopped in front of a high-end boutique, and Stack’s attention drifted. He pointed at a pair of leopard print heeled boots that look like they come up to the calf. 

“You’d look good in those.”

Annie blinked. “When have I ever worn something like that?”

He didn’t answer, just nodded, brows still knit like he hadn’t really heard her.

Inside the store, he eyed a ruched hot-pink mini-dress that was way more Mia’s speed than Annie’s.

“That’s cute,” he said.

Annie cocked her head. “For who?”

Stack looked at her, then back at the rack.

“…Never mind.”

She didn’t say anything else, but she saw it. She felt the space between them moving them even further apart.

And it only continued to grow further. It continued on a Thursday night. Annie had told him she had a “small surprise” waiting. Nothing serious. “Just come hungry,” she’d said.

Stack had texted at 6:12 PM:

Be there around 7.

By 8:15, the candles on the dining table had burned halfway down. The food she’d cooked, chili honey salmon, roasted garlic asparagus, and jasmine rice, had gone from hot to warm under foil.

And Annie? She’d changed out of her cooking clothes and into the dark red lace set Mia picked out for her. The one with the strappy sides and matching robe that barely covered her ass. And she waited. Laid out on her couch, checking her phone periodically.

At 10:03 PM, she gave up. Blew out the candles, packed up the food, took off the lingerie, and slipped into a hoodie. She didn’t even turn off the lights, just crawled into bed in silence.

When Stack finally walked in close to midnight, he was quiet. Tired. Head full of other things. He turned into the kitchen and saw the table. The setup was supposed to be an indication of romance. The foil-covered plates, the half-burned candles, and a single wine glass sat on the table.

And then, he walked into the bedroom and saw her curled up, makeup still on. He cursed under his breath. He saw her bare legs tangled in the sheets. Then he looked at the lingerie tossed half-forgotten over the edge of the bed.

He sat down hard in the chair beside her dresser and ran both hands over his face. “What the fuck am I doing...”

-

Fridays usually felt like a breath. But not today.

Annie sat on the bench outside her office building, arms crossed, one heel tapping slow against the concrete. Her phone sat screen-up beside her, untouched, though she’d checked it five times in the last fifteen minutes. Then ten more times before that.

The sun had dipped below the skyline. Office lights clicked off around her one by one. Traffic had started thinning out, and the air was cooling.

Stack was supposed to pick her up an hour and a half ago. She hadn’t heard a word until ten minutes ago, just a vague “on my way” text that didn’t say much and meant less.

Now she wasn’t even looking at her phone. She was just sitting, cold, quiet, and pissed.

The blacked-out Charger finally pulled up. Stack hopped out before it even came to a stop, hands up, voice soft and careful.

“I know, I know, I’m late. I’m sorry, shit got tied up. I tried, baby, I really did.”

Annie didn’t move. She didn’t stand and didn’t look at him.

He slowed as he got close. “You mad?”

She tilted her head and looked at him flatly. “What gave it away?”

Stack sighed. “Annie–”

“I sat out here for almost two hours. In heels and these hot ass clothes. While the cleaning staff left before me.”

“I know. I’m not tryna make excuses–”

“But you’re about to make some, right?”

His jaw flexed. “No. I just…I didn’t mean to keep you waiting like that. I should’ve said something.”

“You think?”

She finally stood up slowly, with a stiffness in her legs from sitting too long, and looked him dead in the face.

“I don’t need much from you. But I do need you to show up when you say you’re going to. That’s bare minimum shit, Elias.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at her, eyes softer than usual, hands in his pockets, like he was trying not to fuck it up worse.

“You’re right,” he said. “I messed up.”

“And I’m not doing that thing,” she added, stepping closer, voice lower, “where I pretend like it’s no big deal just because you look good and call me baby when I get in the car. That shit doesn’t work on me anymore.”

“I don’t want it to,” he said, quiet and honest. “I want to do better.”

Annie stared at him for a beat, then finally walked past him and got into the car without a word. Stack let out a slow breath and followed.

The silence in the car was heavy. But for once, Stack didn’t try to fill it with jokes, or charm, or bullshit. He just drove. And for the first time in a long time, Annie let him sit in the weight of what he’d caused. Because this wasn’t about one missed ride. No, this was about her time, trust, and worth. And it seems like all of it was being taken for granted. 

If Stack wanted to keep her, he was going to have to learn how to carry that right.

-

The room was dim. The TV was on low, and the sheets were still warm. Stack was in the bathroom brushing his teeth, humming something under his breath, like he didn’t have Annie’s frustration from earlier still sitting thick in the air.

Annie lay in his bed, face bare, bonnet on, oversized tee hugging her curves. She was finally settled. Or trying to be. That’s when her phone lit up with a FaceTime call. It would be Mia

She rolled her eyes but answered anyway. “Girl.”

The screen opened up to Mia in the passenger seat of a car, hair pulled up, oversized sunglasses, even though it was dark. Her wife was in the driver's seat, hands on the wheel, chewing gum, vibing to something low on the radio.

“Hey, babes, you look comfortable. Am I interrupting something?”

Annie exhaled. “Nope, I just laid down. He’s in the bathroom.”

Mia grinned. “Perfect. I gotta say something, and I don’t want background noise.”

“So Kennedy took me to the mall earlier today,” Mia continued, flipping the camera around to show a shiny red-bottom shoebox on her lap. “Got me some new So Kates, right?”

Annie smiled, still slow and tired. “She spoils you.”

“Like I deserve,” Mia said with a smirk. “But anyway, while we were at the mall, guess who I saw?”

Annie blinked. “Please don’t say somebody stupid.”

“Stack…” Mia paused before continuing. “With some girl.”

That made Annie sit up a little. “Where?”

“They were in Gucci. He had his arm around her waist and everything. Then they walked into La Perla.”

Annie’s eyebrows furrowed as she was trying to put the pieces together.

Mia leaned in closer to the camera. “They looked real comfortable with each other. And she kind of looked like that girl you pointed out at the club a while back. This was like…I wanna say an hour, maybe before you texted me saying he was late.”

Annie’s chest tightened. She glanced toward the bathroom. The sound of running water still going.

“You sure it was him?”

“Annie,” Mia said flatly. “I’ve known that man as long as I’ve known you. That was definitely him.”

“Maybe it was a cousin or something–”

“Baby, let’s not do that. He had his hand on her waist. Ain’t no cousin getting Gucci bags with his arm around her in broad daylight. And don’t tell me he was buying you lingerie either, ‘cause you’d already been waiting on that damn bench for over an hour when I called.”

Annie didn’t respond.

Mia’s tone softened slightly. “I’m not saying this to hurt you. You know I love you. And yeah, I’ve known the twins just as long as you. But my loyalty ain’t to them.”

“I know.”

“I’m telling you because I don’t like how he left you sitting out there. And now this? I’m just saying you need to put it together.”

The camera jostled as Mia’s wife pulled into their neighborhood.

“We just got home, so call me tomorrow.”

Annie ended the call without saying goodbye.

The bathroom door opened. Stack stepped out in just his sweats, wiping his face with a towel.

He glanced over, casually. “You good?”

Annie’s face was unreadable. But on the inside? Her stomach was tight. Mind racing. That feeling of something not adding up gripped the back of her neck like a warning.

“Yeah,” she said.

She lied.

-

-

-

Taglist: @stormynovashambler @coolfoodrunworld-blog @katezy2x

[brownlyfe]

Michael B. Jordan & Wunmi Mosaku behind the scenes of Sinners

[brownlyfe]

Love A Woman

A Three-Part Modern Day Au

Part 2

pairing: elijah “smoke" moore x annie x elias "stack" moore

cw: modern!au, smut, slightly ooc, bondage, bdsm, nicknames

word count: 7,745

summary: annie is caught between two brothers who show their love for her in two different ways. one quiet and soft beneath her control, the other? unapolegtically rough and playful. weekdays are a slow burn of passion and promise, but the weekends are chaos and surrender personified. but when blurred lines, missed promises, and real feelings start to surface, the balance shifts. loyalty gets tested. and annie has to decide what kind of love she really needs, and who’s strong enough to hold all of her.

notes: my first fic on here, and it would be a movie like sinners to bring me out. I've been writing on wattpad for years, but had no reason to crossover. I'm currently obsessed with Wunmi and michael's chemistry, so prepare for more. this isn't a normal poly situation, either, so prepare for the ride *wink, wink*.

Annie blinked as she stared at her computer, the screen stuck on a spreadsheet that hadn’t been typed on in at least fifteen minutes. Her eyes were glassy from the tiredness that overtook her body. The building was buzzing with whispered noise and the sounds of keyboards clicking.

She wanted to scream, truly. Instead, she shut down her monitor without a word, packed up her things with a robotic grace, and left without a single word of goodbye. Her feet felt heavy as she walked to the elevator. By the time she got there, the sharp click of her heels felt like a ticking time bomb to her collapse.

The walk from the office building to her apartment building was only four blocks, but it might as well have been miles. Everything was too bright and moving too fast. Every car horn stabbed through her skull, and conversations pierced her eardrum like an intrusion. The air was thick, muggy despite the calendar insisting it was still early spring.

She reached her building and stood in the lobby under buzzing lights with a finger hovering over the elevator button. But didn’t press it. Her apartment would be too quiet, too small, too cold, too lonely. She closed her eyes, inhaled through her nose, and walked right back out of the front door. 

The cab ride to Smoke’s building took fifteen minutes. She sat in the backseat with her head against the window, eyes closed, and deep breaths filling out her chest. She could hear her phone dinging in her purse, but Annie continued doing what she had been doing for the last three weeks. She ignored it. 

For nearly the last month, Annie had been ignoring practically everyone. Her friends, family, and even her two men, who had both been trying to reach her every day since she went missing. It wasn’t like she was trying to do it on purpose either. Work had her tied up in the unhealthiest way. She worked through the weekend, leaving late into the night and arriving early in the morning. She never got more than three hours of rest because her body wouldn’t settle.

It was muscle memory by now; buzz into Smoke’s building, ride the elevator to the top floor, and let herself in. Annie didn’t knock anymore. He never made her. The second the door shut, the quiet covered her like a warm blanket

Nothing was loud or overbearing. Her senses had calmed and the only things she had was the smell of something deliciously simmering on the stove…and him.

Smoke stood in the kitchen, white short sleeve shirt tight around his arm muscles and grey sweatpants sitting low. He didn’t bother looking up from his place in front of the stove. He knew who it was and what she came for. 

Her purse hit the table with a heavy thud. Holding onto the edge of the kitchen island for support, she kicked off her heels.

“Dinner will be ready in twenty,” glancing over his shoulder, that low, calm voice hit her like a sedative. His eyes softened the second they landed on her–bloodshot eyes, stiff shoulders, the outline of her stress written all over her body. “Bath’s already drawn.”

Annie didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. He always knew what she needed and when she needed it without her ever having to say a word. Nodding her head, she turned towards the direction of the stairs and started to peel her clothes off as she walked away.

The bath was perfect. Steam curled around the marble tiles, the air thick with lavender and eucalyptus. The water was hot, just shy of stinging. She sank into it with a hiss, letting her head fall back, hair piled on top of her head.

She didn’t cry. Not yet. That would come later, maybe. For now, she just... floated. 

She stayed in until the water cooled and her fingers wrinkled. When she emerged, a towel was already waiting on the counter—fluffy, fresh, and warm.

Dinner was quiet. He didn’t press her to talk.

They ate side by side on the couch, the TV playing some old movie neither of them was watching. She leaned into him, and he let her, arm curled around her shoulders, thumb stroking absent circles into her silk-covered skin. 

It wasn’t until the plates were cleared and the lights were off that she finally spoke.

“I need to use you tonight.”

Smoke said nothing, only nodded his head, and squeezed her body further into his.

“Whatever you need, mama.”

-

He lay back on the bed in nothing but his boxers, eyes heavy-lidded and patient. Annie straddled his hips, still in her robe. Her fingers trailed up his chest, light and teasing.

“You gonna be good for me?” she asked, voice low and sharp.

Smoke’s lips parted, and he exhaled slowly. “Always.”

She grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. He didn’t resist. Didn’t move. Just looked at her like she was the only thing in the world. 

“You don’t stop until I say,” she whispered against his ear. “You don’t even think about it.”

“Yes, mama.”

Her robe slid open as she lowered herself onto his face, his lips already parted, his tongue eager and dutiful. She held onto the headboard, grinding down slowly, deliberately, chasing the release she’d been denied for weeks.

Smoke groaned beneath her, needy and obedient. He licked her like a man starving, like he worshipped the ache between her thighs. She tugged his hair, used him, rolled her hips until her moans bounced off the walls, and still he didn’t stop. Not even when she came hard, shaking against his mouth.

“Again,” she ordered breathlessly.

And he did. Over and over, until she was gasping and sweat-slick and trembling. Only then did she finally untie his hands. She slowly eased her way back down his body with the help of his hands that immediately took hold of her hips. Their lips fused in a gentle song made of light moans and whimpers.

She reached her hand down and gently guided him inside of her. Slow and deep. He held her like she was made of glass, as they rocked against each other. Her body seemed to move on autopilot as her lower body met his thrust for thrust.

They kissed each other, each moan matching the gentle pace that was set. His lips moved from her lips to her cheek to her shoulder. Her body stuttered the closer she got to her release. Smoke doing what he does best, and that’s anticipating the needs of his woman. 

He bent his knees and planted both feet on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her waist in a snug hold and started sharp thrusts upwards, controlled, deep, precise. The kind that sent shockwaves through her body and pushed little gasps from her chest. The kind that made her lose any sense of control, but she held on. Not wanting to completely give up any of the little that she had, Annie braced her hands onto his chest, knowing that he could handle all the pressure. She used her trembling legs to help meet his quick strokes.

She could feel how hard he was holding back—not just from flipping her onto her back and taking over, but from finishing. He was too focused on her, on her pleasure, her body, her need.

Thrust after thrust, she rocked against him, their rhythm teetering between slow and sudden. Every time she rolled her hips down, he met her halfway, grinding deeper with those sharp, upward strokes that had her biting her lip to keep from crying out too early.

He let one hand trail up her spine, fingers dragging like worship. The other remained clutched around her waist, anchoring her to him like a lifeline.

When her body clenched around him, when her thighs began to quake, he whispered against her skin:

“Let go, mama. I’ve got you. Let me feel it.”

And she did.

Her orgasm hit like lightning, sudden, powerful, and silent for one suspended moment before she let out a strangled cry and collapsed forward, trembling against his chest. He held her, not daring to move too fast, not daring to push her past her limit, until her hips started moving again, a reminder that she was only done when she said so.

Smoke groaned, the sound laced with a quiet desperation. “You want more?”

She lifted her head, eyes glazed with post-orgasm haze, but her voice was firm. “I’m not done using you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, almost reverently.

She pushed herself upright again and braced her hands against his chest. He gripped her hips once more, adjusted his angle, and started thrusting up again—faster this time, harder, his body shaking with restraint as he drove into her.

It was a slow build again, but this time, it was mutual.

Her breath hitched. His jaw clenched. The bed creaked beneath them, the sounds of skin on skin and gasps and choked moans filling the room.

And when she finally gave him the nod, barely a whisper of permission, he came with a shuddering groan, hands gripping her tight, hips stuttering beneath her. They lay chest to chest, their breaths in perfect sync.

As carefully as he could, Smoke slid out of her and then rolled them over on their sides so that they were facing each other. Annie’s breath began to even out and slow down. Smoke knew then that she was on the verge of sleep. So, he pressed soft kisses to her forehead and cheek, whispering soft praises into her ear; he was just glad that she was relaxed now.

The booming bass was blaring through the streets as Stack’s Charger came to a rolling stop in front of Annie’s apartment complex.

Annie stood at the curb, arms crossed, sunglasses hiding her eyes. Smoke was behind her, calm as ever, one hand on the small of her back, the other holding her overnight bag. 

Stack threw his door open, grinning like the human embodiment of sin itself.

“There’s my girl,” he said, as the sounds of Yo Gotti’s Got Dem Racks thumped the whole car, “Ready to remember what fun feels like?”

Annie didn’t answer. She was still tired, her body was still simmering with tension that hadn’t been fully shaken from Smoke’s bed.

“She hasn’t eaten since breakfast,” Smoke said, passing Stack the bag. “She ain’t sleep much either. And her body’s still tight.”

“Got it,” Stack nodded, slinging the bag into the back seat. “I’ll take care of it.”

Smoke kissed the side of her head and murmured something too soft for Stack to hear. Then he opened the car door for her like the gentleman he was. Annie slid into the low seat without a word. Stack pulled off the curb before she could even buckle her seatbelt completely. Tires screeched as he merged with traffic, music still thumping through the car like a third heartbeat. 

The difference was always immediate.

Smoke’s world was always calmer, quieter, a bit softer, and a touch cooler than what she was used to. Stack’s world? Heat, noise, and chaos all perfectly molded into the shape of a man.

He rapped along to the radio, one hand on the wheel and the other hanging out of the window. Annie took to looking out the window, not paying much attention to the smooth-talking man next to her until she felt fingers ghosting the skin on her inner thigh. She swatted them away without much thought, not really in the mood for whatever games Stack was going to play.

One second, the car was coming to an abrupt stop on the side of the road, and the next, he was grabbing her jaw, turning her face toward him. 

“You feelin’ bold today, baby girl?”

Annie’s stomach flipped. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You ain’t have to. But you know I don’t like that shit. You know better, right?”

She rolled her eyes. It was instinct. A natural reflex. But it was a mistake. Stack didn’t raise his voice. Just chuckled once, dark and low, and said–

“Oh, it’s that kind of weekend.”

-

The lounge was pulsing like it was alive. Men and women were filling the tables and chairs, drinks flowing, and clouds of cigar smoke surrounding the air.

Stack was in his element. He had his usual corner table already waiting, people nodding at him as they passed, girls giving him second glances he never returned. He didn’t have to, not when Annie was tucked into his side, phone in hand, legs crossed.

Their waitress brought over another shot for her at her request for another round. Annie tipped back another shot, the tequila burning on the way down. Stack caught the glass just before she could slam it down on the table again.

“That’s four, baby girl,” he said, voice low in her ear. “You know your limit.”

She pouted, reaching for his still full shot glass. She wanted to forget about everything and feel nothing. Sometimes, the easiest and quickest way was to throw back drinks until she couldn’t remember her own name. 

Stack’s hand slid around her wrist, firm and final. Stopping her from actually lifting the clear shot glass.

“Not tonight,” he added, more serious now, his dark eyes locking with hers. “I said I’d take care of you. That means I decide when you’ve had enough.”

Annie rolled her eyes, yet there was a heat rising beneath her skin, not from alcohol. She didn’t argue. Not because she couldn’t, but because she’d already crossed that line once. And Stack didn’t play that game.

What Stack did was lift the wrist he was holding up to his lips, then gently helped her up as he stood as well. They made their way to the dance floor, Stack with a smirk on his face, keeping score of every inch of defiance from the woman behind him. 

The night blurred into a haze of rhythm and heat. Stack had his hands on her hips the whole time, keeping her close, guiding her every movement like they were the only two people in the room. He pressed her back against his chest while his hand slid low enough to make her gasp.

She forgot the emails. The deadlines. Even Smoke’s gentleness seemed like a far-off memory under the weight of Stack’s grip. He let her live a little. Just enough.

But of course, she had to ruin it by pulling away before he got the chance to kiss those lips he hadn’t seen or felt in weeks. 

“Oh, that’s how it is?” he said, lips against her neck.

Annie blinked up at him, faux-innocent.

Stack grinned, dangerous and slow. “That’s cool. I was gonna go easy on you tonight. Guess we’re past that now, huh?”

-

Stack didn’t drag her to the bedroom…he led her there. A hand on her arm, a steady grip, not yanking but directing. His energy had shifted the moment they walked through the door. The teasing, cocky Stack from the club was gone.

His bedroom was a temple of control. The walls were dark, the sheets black, and the mirrors, oh, the mirrors, hung perfectly above the bed, polished to a shine. He opened the bedroom door with a foot and gestured toward the bed.

“Strip,” he barked, yanking his shirt over his head. She hesitated for half a second.

Stack raised an eyebrow. “Slower than usual, baby. Must be tired. You want me to help?”

Her cheeks burned. “No, daddy.”

“That’s what I thought.”

By the time she was bare, he had pulled out the restraints from a chest in the corner of the room, black leather with soft padding on the inside. He decided to start with her legs, so he guided her onto her back. He bent one leg at the knee, bringing her ankle back toward her thigh, and fastened the first cuff tight, connecting them. Then the other, so she was lying with both legs bent, leaving her open, exposed, and vulnerable.

Instead of moving to tie her hands above her head or to the headboard like he normally would, Stack gently pulled her wrists down to her sides, guiding each one back to her corresponding thigh. He buckled her left wrist to the outside of her left thigh. Then the right. Her arms were folded, wrists locked to the cuffs holding her legs open. 

He kneeled in between her open legs, staring at her like a man starved. But he didn’t touch her, yet. Her cheeks burned, but the throb between her legs only intensified.

Then his voice dipped lower. “Eyes up.”

Her gaze shifted to the mirror above the bed, and what she saw made her breath catch. She looked wrecked already. Arms taut in their bindings, legs helplessly folded back, pussy glistening in the soft light. And Stack in front of her, shirt gone, muscles cut, and eyes lit with danger.

“You’ve been mouthing off all week, haven’t you?” he grumbled, trailing his fingers down her stomach. “Bet Smoke let you get away with it. He probably kissed your forehead and told you it was okay.”

“Well, guess what, princess? I’m not Smoke.” He reached across her body to grab the crop off the nightstand.

“You got twenty,” he said, running it along her inner thigh. “And you gone count. If you miss one, we start over.” With ease, Stack gripped Annie’s tied-up arm and flipped her over.

The first strike landed on her ass with a crisp, echoing snap.

“One,” she gasped. Then another, across the opposite cheek. “Two.”

By six, her voice was trembling. By ten, she was clenching around nothing, desperate and dripping. By fifteen, she wasn’t sure if it was pain or pleasure anymore; the lines had blurred. The heat in her skin was unbearable, but needed. Her pussy ached, her thighs shook. 

When the twentieth hit, it wasn’t a scream that left her lips. It was a moan.

Stack grinned darkly. “That’s my girl.”

She barely had a second to breathe before he was flipping her onto her back, dropping to his knees on the bed, and lowering his face between her thighs.

“Now let’s see how many times I can make you cum before you pass out.” And with that, he dove in.

Bound and helpless, she had no control. Couldn’t close her legs, couldn’t squirm away, couldn’t do anything but take it. His mouth was ruthless.

Tongue dragging slow and deep, then flicking fast over her clit in maddening patterns. Every time she got close, he pulled back just enough to deny her, making her whine and beg against the restraints.

He edged her twice, brought her right to the brink, and then pulled back, laughing as she begged, squirmed, and cursed his name. When she cried out, “please,” he reached up, slapped her thigh just hard enough to make her gasp.

“Please, what? Use your words, baby girl.”

“Please let me come. Daddy, please…”

He smirked. “Not yet.”

Annie felt her body give in, her breath catching with each denial. Her body was squeezing tightly from holding on so much. 

“Eyes up,” he ordered, tapping her cheek.

Annie’s gaze slid up…and there she was. Bound and helpless. And there he was kneeling on the bed in front of her, smirking like the devil, thick dick in hand, dragging the tip along her soaked folds.

“Look how pretty you are when you’re fucked open,” he growled. “Watch yourself, baby. You better not look away.”

Stack eased his way into her, but didn’t bother with letting his woman get adjusted. He began to fuck her with purpose, rough and deep, controlling every rhythm, every sound she made. Her wrists pulled at the restraints, her thighs trembled with overstimulation.

“Look at you, takin’ it so good.” Her breath caught when Stack smirked down at her. He took to gripping her throat as he fucked her to the point of her whole body jiggling.

She could feel her body clenching and tightening. Her stomach was the main culprit.

“You gonna cum?” he asked, voice tight.

She whimpered. “I-I don’t know. E-elias-”

“You know you’re not allowed.”

He pulled out and slapped her clit hard enough to make her choke on a moan, then sank back in with a grunt. Her entire body shook, sweat rolling down her sides, tears spilling from her eyes. She was trying her hardest not to give in, knowing that she would be in far more trouble than she was currently in. 

Stack was unrelenting in his strokes, making sure to hit every depth of her. Leaving no place untouched. He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck, loving the way her whimpers and breathless moans filled his ears. He kissed his way up to her ear.

“Say thank you, mama. Give me the words I like.”

“Thank you, daddy. T-t-thank you!”

He smirked and gripped her neck again, then he kissed her, hard and possessively. His thrusts not slowing down, not even a little.

Her voice was wrecked. “P-please, daddy. I’m sorry, I was such a brat. Please, let me cum. P-p-please, I need it. Elias…p-please” The last word coming out as a stuttered whimper. 

He groaned into her mouth. “There she is. Now cum.”

When she did, it was violent. Back arching, mouth open in a silent scream, legs trembling uncontrollably. He held her through it, fucking her through the aftershocks until she was twitching, oversensitive, boneless beneath him.

“Again,” he growled, looking up at her through his lashes. “Keep lookin’, princess. Don’t you dare take your eyes off that mirror.”

And she did. She watched herself fall apart over and over. Her second and third orgasms had her body convulsing with pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain. Tears collected in her. Drool wet her lips. Her thighs trembled, her voice broken with babbling pleas.

“Please, daddy, please, I can’t. It’s too much–” Annie managed to get out in between the harsh rocks of her body.

Stack smirked, lips slick from her. “That’s too bad. Because I’m not done with you.”

Annie’s eyes widened, and her mouth sputtered jumbled words. Stack’s smirk only got wider as he reached down and gripped a bouncing breast in one of his own, and the other rubbed her stomach, debating over whether he should ruin her or not.

Normally, they would be in position number five at this point in the night, but Stack was content with just the one. Looking at her face to face was his kryptonite. His release was creeping up on him, meanwhile, Annie felt her orgasm hitting her all over.

Then he came with a groan, hips jerking as he spilled deep inside her, burying his face in her neck with a growl of her name. He unbuckled each restraint slowly, rubbing the soreness from her joints, murmuring praise between every touch.

“You’re mine on the weekends,” he whispered into her ear. “And you know what happens when you act up. But you did good, baby. You took all of it and let it out.”

She nodded, boneless and spent in his arms. She couldn’t even speak. Just curled into him, safe and sore and glowing.

And Stack simply smiled. Because the weekend had only just started.

It was Sunday night. The sky was a beautiful purple, the sun melting behind the skyline as the Charger rolled up outside Smoke’s building. The engine cut off, but the music was playing something soft, for once. Stack stepped around to the passenger side and opened the door like a chauffeur.

Annie didn’t move at first. She looked like she might melt into the leather seat. Stack helped her up, supporting her carefully. Her knees buckled slightly when she stood, and she hissed softly at the ache.

“Easy,” he said, one arm around her waist, the other carrying her overnight bag. The two moved their way through the apartment building, into the elevator, and up to the top floor.

The front door opened before either of them knocked. Smoke stood in the doorway, expression unreadable but warm. Wordlessly, Stack passed him the bag and Annie. 

“She’s good,” Stack said quietly. “Just tired and sore.”

Smoke nodded. “I’ve got her.”

Stack gave Annie one last kiss on the cheek and disappeared out the front door. Smoke closed the door behind them and turned to her. She looked like a storm that had been weathered. Smoke caught her before she could stumble further.

“Hey,” he said gently, cupping her face. “I’ve got you, mama. Let me take care of you.”

-

The bath was already running. 

He’d learned by now no words at first. Just touch and presence.

Smoke peeled her clothes off slowly, carefully. Then untied her sneakers and set them aside. His eyes roamed over her marked skin without judgment. He touched every bruise with a gentleness and care that he reserved for only her. She winced when he reached her thighs.

She sank into the bath like it was salvation. The water steamed, full of oils and salts that smelled like chamomile and eucalyptus.

Smoke knelt beside the tub, rolled up his sleeves, and ran a soft washcloth over her skin. His hands were warm, slow, and methodical. He didn’t talk. Neither one did.

When her eyes fluttered closed, he kissed her temple and whispered, “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

The lights in the bedroom were dim. The sheets were fresh. A playlist of low instrumentals hummed from the speakers, barely loud enough to register.

Smoke helped her onto the bed like she was made of silk. She winced as she lay back, thighs trembling. He crawled in beside her, trailing kisses down her body, soft, wet, and worshipful. Over every bruise. Every mark. Every bite and stripe that Stack had left behind.

“You’re so good,” he murmured. “Letting yourself go like that. Letting him take everything. That’s strength, mama. That’s power.”

Annie exhaled shakily. Smoke kissed the inside of her knee.

“I love how your body tells stories,” he whispered. “I love the bruises. The tremble in your voice when I touch you here,” he pressed his lips against the crease of her thigh, “and the way you look after you’ve been used. You’re still glowing.”

He spread her legs slowly and kissed between them without hesitation, tongue moving with unhurried care. She gasped, still raw, overstimulated, and sore.

“Too much?” he asked gently.

She just released a shaky breath as she made eye contact with him. Annie didn’t know whether she was truly prepared to experience much more, but she knew he would be careful.

Smoke hummed as he recognized the look that she was giving him. It was something that he was good at. Reading her was his specialty. He eased up just a bit and began to give her soft kisses and sucks to her clit. He didn’t chase her orgasm. He wanted to give her peace. 

When she came, it was slow and warm like she was melting. Tears pricked at her eyes, but not from pain. He wrapped her in his arms after, held her tight with his body curled around hers. Fingers stroking her back, lips brushing her shoulder.

“Tomorrow’s Monday,” she murmured groggily.

Smoke chuckled. “I know.”

“I don’t wanna go.”

“I got you, baby. You know that.”

Annie smiled, eyes barely open. “What would I do without you?”

Smoke kissed her forehead. “You’ll never have to find out.”

By the time the sun rose, her outfit was pressed and ready. Her phone was charged, coffee brewed, and breakfast was waiting. But it was more than that, her heart was steady. Her body grounded. Because Smoke wasn’t just her safe space. He was her recovery.

The emails never stopped. And neither did the late meetings, the after-hours calls, or the endless pressure to be the best, the fastest, the most capable.

Annie’s phone buzzed every few minutes. The blue light of her laptop reflected in her eyes long after midnight. Her apartment was quiet and deathly calm, even though she was used to being alone there.

She hadn’t seen Smoke or Stack in two weeks. Not properly, anyway.

She answered their texts with dry one-word replies. Ignored their calls more than she took them. When Stack FaceTimed her last weekend, she answered bare-faced and red-eyed, snapped something short and cold, and hung up before he could call her out.

Smoke still sent her flowers and food. Stack still called and sent videos. None of it worked this time. She stayed in her apartment, slept in her clothes, woke up angry, and went to bed worse.

-

Stack paced his living room with the phone pressed to his ear, jaw tight, patience fraying.

“Did she text you back?” he asked flatly. “It’s been four days.”

On the other end, Smoke’s voice was calm but clipped. “You know how she gets.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“You gonna go get her?”

“I want to,” Stack growled. “I want to kick her door in, bend her over the nearest surface, and remind her who she belongs to.”

Smoke was quiet for a beat. “That’s not what she needs right now.”

“I know,” Stack sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “But it’s gettin’ real hard to sit on my hands when our girl’s out there drowning.”

“She’ll come to us,” Smoke said calmly.

-

Annie sat on the floor of her shower, water scalding. Her phone buzzed from the counter, but she didn’t check it. She didn’t need to, she already knew who it was.

And she hated that she was this exhausted. She had a craving that took over her whole body. A craving for their hands, their voices, their complete and utter control. She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. Something had to give.

-

It was Friday at 3:42 PM when Stack got the call. When he saw Annie flash across his screen, he nearly dropped the glass he was holding.

“’Bout time,” he muttered, wiping his hands before swiping to answer. “Talk to me.”

But her voice wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t tired or soft or needy. It was sharp and dangerous.

“Pick me up. Work ends at five. Don’t be late.” Then she hung up.

Stack stared at the phone like it might talk back.

“…Oh, she’s lost her damn mind.”

-

He was waiting outside her building at 4:57. Leaning against the Charger, arms crossed, sunglasses low, grin slow and mean.

Annie strutted out like she hadn’t left him hanging for weeks. She wore tight slacks, a blouse with too many buttons undone, and her eyes were full of challenge and fire.

Stack opened the door for her, silently. And she slid in without a word. He got behind the wheel, started the engine, and kept the silence up until they hit the freeway.

“You got somethin’ to say, baby girl?”

She huffed, looking out the window. “Just drive.”

He chuckled once. “Oh, nah. You got one free pass, and you just cashed it.”

She turned, finally, locking eyes with him. And she simply just rolled them, turning away from him completely. Stack’s smile dropped.

His hand slid off the wheel and wrapped around her throat, slow and precise, just enough pressure to make her heart skip.

“I’m not dealing with this all weekend,” he growled, eyes still on the road.

She didn’t reply, just scoffed.

Stack shook his head, a smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was going to do. Instead of heading in the direction of his loft, he headed in the direction of his twin brother’s. Stack knew that his brother would be far more equipped to handle her in this state than he was.

The rest of the fifteen minute ride was complete silence. When they pulled down the familiar street of Smoke’s building. Annie furrowed her eyebrows in confusion when they pulled up in front of the building.

Stack got out of the car and opened her door. “Have fun.” 

Annie wanted to say something, but it seemed to get stuck in her throat once Stack tapped her back and lightly pushed her forward. An unknown feeling seemed to fill her head. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn’t let them loose. Instead, she held them in.

It started with the sound of keys hitting the floor. Smoke turned from the stove just in time to see her shoulders sag, her purse slide off her shoulder, and Annie practically melt into a dining room chair.

No words came out. Her attitude had disappeared in the five minutes it had taken for her to get from the front curb where Stack left her to Smoke’s front door. A quiet, choked sob was the only noise that came from her.

“Hey,” he breathed, instantly moving toward her, “hey, baby, I got you.”

She shook her head violently, palms pressed to her face like she was trying to keep it all in. But the sobs kept coming, broken, raw, hiccuping through clenched teeth.

“I–I can’t,” she gasped. “I–I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Smoke knelt in front of her, cupped her face in both hands, and kissed her forehead, soft and grounding.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with ya, mama,” he whispered. “Just breathe for me.”

She leaned forward, arms wrapping around his squatted frame, and collapsed into him. It was a total surrender. 

He held her for a long time, rocking her gently, whispering calm into her ear while her body shook with the weight of too many silent breakdowns. Smoke was doing his best to calm his woman down. Her tears were dripping on his neck, and he could feel the exhaustion weighing her body down.

After a few minutes of comforting her, Smoke helps Annie stand and leads her to the bedroom. There were no candles, no bubble bath, none of the usual things he would do in her time of distress. However, things were still as calm and as relaxing as ever.

They settled on the bed with her lying under him, practically naked. Her face was stained from the tears she had just released. Despite how settled she currently was, Smoke could still see the vulnerability swirling in her pretty brown eyes. He knew what she needed without her ever even having to open her mouth.  

He placed a gentle kiss on her neck before pulling away and peeling his shirt off. His eyes never left hers. His voice was quiet and steady.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” she croaked.

He nodded. “Do you want to feel something else?”

Her puffy, shining eyes met his.

“Yes.”

“Then use me,” he said simply. “I’m all yours.”

He lay back on the bed without a word, arms open, letting her climb over him. She wasn’t rough, not at first. Her hands trembled as they dragged across his chest, her mouth soft and desperate as she kissed him like she was trying to escape inside him.

She tied his wrists to the headboard with her silk scarf. 

Smoke moaned softly, already breathless from the simple act of giving her control. “Tell me what you need, mama.”

Annie’s voice was hoarse, heavy with emotion. “I need to take it out on something.”

“Then take it out on me.”

Her hand wrapped around his throat, gently but firmly. She kissed him again, deeper this time, and rolled her hips against him, slow and hard. Smoke’s eyes fluttered shut.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I want every tear, scream, and pain you got, baby. Give it to me.”

Her breath quickened at the way his voice in that deep country accent spoke to her. No matter how much control he gave her, he always managed to reel her back in. As quickly as she could, Annie took his sweatpants off, glad that he decided to freeball for the day. 

She reached her hand and gripped him. Not bothering to deal with the giving and receiving of oral satisfaction that she was sure her man was prepared for. She knew how ready she was, so the moment she sank down on him. She bit her lip and sat up, her hands pressed on his chest. 

Smoke looked up at her like she was the sun, moon, and the stars. He loved watching her above him, rocking until she was able to get her release. And the looks he gave her during her ride always made her more turned on than when she started. And tonight was no exception.

She rode him hard, desperate and determined. Every thrust was filled with more than lust. It was a perfect mix of frustration, exhaustion, and rage. It was all bleeding out through her body. And Smoke took it.

He whispered through gritted teeth. “Use me, mama. Get yours first, okay? Don’t worry about me. Just feel, baby.”

She nodded her head, her body rolling and picking up speed at the encouragement. Her eyes met his as breathy moans stumbled from her lips. Her thighs burned at the pace she had set. She could feel her release creeping up on her, and it only made her want to push harder.

When she came, she cried again. Her face buried in his neck, body shaking, breath ragged. And still, Smoke didn’t stop murmuring praise into her skin.

“You did so good, baby.” Smoke pulled one arm free, needing to touch her. He wrapped his arm around her, tugging her impossibly closer.

She reached up and untied him slowly. Still, he didn’t let her go.

“You’re not broken, okay?” he whispered into her hair. “You’re tired. You’ve been holding it together too long. Let me help you hold it now.” Smoke kissed her temple.

The morning sun was already high when Annie blinked awake, still tangled in Smoke’s sheets. She was supposed to be at work.

Her phone had been blown up with emails, texts, and voicemails from that one high-profile, high-strung client who didn’t know how to talk to people without making them feel like dirt.

And now, thirty minutes into an impromptu phone call on Smoke’s couch, Annie was done.

“No,” she snapped into her phone. “You already approved the deck this week, we can’t make any revisions.”

She froze, jaw tense.

Then, through clenched teeth: “You’re not listening.”

Smoke sat at the kitchen table, shirtless in gray sweats. A cigar smoldered between his fingers, untouched but burning slowly. He watched her in silence, eyes calm but alert.

She hung up with a shaky exhale and threw the phone onto the couch.

Smoke took one more puff and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “You done, mama?”

“I swear,” she muttered, pacing again, “if one more person tries me today, I’m gonna lose it.”

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.” His tone was light.

Annie turned to him, eyes flaring. “Don’t.”

Smoke tilted his head slightly. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t say shit to me right now. You’re just sitting there watching me.”

Smoke tapped ash into a tray. “I’m sitting here because I know how to stay calm when you can’t.”

Annie’s voice sharpened. “Right. Because you’re perfect. Always so damn quiet. You think you’re better than me, Elijah?”

He didn’t flinch. Just took another slow drag of his cigar and let her unload. He knew what she was doing, but he didn’t let it get to him. She was still too wound up mentally for him to care too much about the bite she had behind those words.

“Nobody said that.” Smoke leaned back, resting his arm on the table.

“You just sit there, acting like I’m overreacting or–or–or crazy!”

Smoke lifted his eyebrow as he took another pull of the cigar. “You want me to fight you, or you want me to be what you need?”

“Right now?” she said, breath shaking. “I need you to put that shit out. I can’t even think with that smoke in the air. And I sure as hell can’t hear myself over your fucking silence.”

Neither one had noticed the door open, nor did they notice Stack standing in the corner. He stood in the dark area of the entrance to the open living room. He had heard a good amount of it to know that Annie was out of her mind with the way she was talking.

He took a few steps forward until he was completely in the room. One look at Annie who was tense and practically vibrating, and then at Smoke, sitting calmly, taking slow drags of his cigar.

“…The fuck is going on in here?”

Annie froze; her breathing was ragged.

Smoke, without even turning around, said calmly, “Hey, brother.”

Stack stepped further in, taking off his glasses. “You good?”

Smoke shrugged, dragging on the cigar again. “She’s not.”

Stack looked back at Annie. Something in his expression shifted. That usual playfulness disappeared and was replaced by a darker heat. Something sharp, cold, and dominant.

“You cussin’ him out?” Stack asked slowly, tone deadly calm.

Annie opened her mouth, but then closed it. She didn't have anything to say. And even if she did, it would probably be the wrong thing to say.

Stack let out one low, humorless laugh.

“Oh, nah, baby. Don’t act brave now. You wanna raise your voice at him? The man who rubs your legs after I leave ‘em shaking? The one who draws you fuckin’ baths?”

He stepped closer, each word a warning.

“You come into his space. Sleep in his bed. Cry in his arms. And this morning, you turn around and snap on him like he ain’t been your peace?”

Annie’s lips trembled, but Stack didn’t stop.

“Nah, princess. That’s not gonna fly.”

Smoke finally spoke, quiet but firm. “She’s just overwhelmed. It’s aigh–”

Stack cut him a glance that silenced him instantly. “You sat there and took it. That’s your grace.”

Then back to Annie.

“But I’m not him.” His voice dropped to a growl. “So now? You answer to me.”

The silence that followed Stack’s words was electric.

Annie stood frozen, heart thudding, throat tight. She opened her mouth to argue, to defend herself, but Stack was already moving across the room. Each step was fast, deliberate, and dominant.

He grabbed her by the wrist, yanked her forward, and bent her over the cool marble of Smoke’s kitchen island in one practiced movement.

“Stack–” she gasped.

“No,” he said, voice ice. “You don’t talk until I say so.”

Smoke didn’t stop him. He just let his twin do what he did best when it came to Annie. He leaned back in his chair, shirtless and still smoking, eyes locked on hers, calm and unreadable, letting Stack take what needed to be taken.

Stack shoved her robe up around her hips and ripped her panties down in one swift motion, baring her completely. She gasped, humiliated, breath caught between guilt and arousal.

“This the same mouth that cried in his arms last night?” Stack growled, palming her ass.

The first slap landed sharp and clean. It made her flinch. And there was a burning sting left over from his heavy hand. 

“You get peace,” smack, “you get worship,” smack, “and you turn around and spit in his face?”

“I–I didn’t mean to–” A rough, stinging smack interrupted her statement. She hung her head and bit her lip trying not to show how much it was getting to her.

“You meant it enough to say it.”

Smoke exhaled slowly, watching from across the table, elbow resting against the armrest like this was a ritual he’d seen before.

“Keep count, baby girl,” Stack said, smacking her again, harder this time. “Ten. Then you apologize. To both of us.”

Her voice cracked. “O-one.”

Another. “Two–”

By six, her voice was shaking. By eight, her legs were trembling. Her palms were flat on the cold counter, forehead resting against her arm, eyes stinging with tears.

When ten hit, she was breathless, sobbing softly.

Stack leaned close, one hand gripping her hip, the other sliding between her thighs to feel the heat there. And of course, she was wet.

“Now,” he said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, “you’ve got something to say.”

She turned her head, eyes catching on Smoke’s across the table. He didn’t say a word. Just stared at her through the smoke, lips parted slightly, watching.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I–I was wrong. I lashed out, and you didn’t deserve it, either of you.”

Her voice cracked, and she turned to Smoke fully, desperation bleeding through.

“I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you. You didn’t deserve that. You never deserve that. You always take care of me, and I was mean.”

Smoke finally stubbed out the cigar in the ashtray, lips twitching like he was thinking about smiling. But he didn’t move.

Annie swallowed. “Please… Elijah. I need you.”

Stack stepped back, voice lower now. “Go to him. If he’ll have you.”

She stumbled forward on sore legs, the punishment still burning in her skin, and moved to the chair where Smoke sat, legs spread, posture open.

She dropped to her knees first, part apology and part desperation. Then looked up at him. Her lashes glistened with unshed tears. “Can I…?”

He looked at her for a long moment, eyes still unreadable. Then patted his thigh once.

She climbed into his lap, folding into him with a shaky breath. But he didn’t hold her. Not yet at least. He was waiting for a proper apology.

His voice was low and steady. “Say it how I like to hear it.”

Her voice trembled. “I’m sorry, Papa. I was mean. I disrespected you and let my stress turn me into someone I’m not. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just trying to help.”

Smoke leaned in, lips brushing her ear. “And?”

“And I missed you. I need you.”

That’s when he finally wrapped his arms around her. They were tight and safe. She tucked her head in his neck, sniffling her residual tears away.

Stack leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching her fall apart in Smoke’s lap, satisfied.

“Good girl,” he said, voice like velvet and smoke. “Back where you belong.”

[brownlyfe]

omg take it easy on us, big daddy 😩

[brownlyfe]

they make my heart happy 🥹

I love them so much yo like regardless of what race of women he likes and who she’s married too I love their friendship it’s so kind and warm

[brownlyfe]

michael b. jordan & ryan coogler behind the scenes of sinners (2025)

[brownlyfe]

I ship Stack and Annie

I ship Smoke and Annie

I ship Pearline and Annie

I ship Grace and Annie

I even ship poly Stack, Annie and Smoke

Wut y’all gonna do about it now ?🙂‍↔️

Oh okay.

You all consume Remmick and Sammie, Sammie and KKK daughter and now you draw the line at Annie being with the other twin ?

🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Chi.

[brownlyfe]

Wunmi Mosaku ❤️ Sherri talk show

[brownlyfe]

BIG MAMA

[brownlyfe]

MY GOOOOOOOD is she BEAUTIFUL

[brownlyfe]

SINNERS

[brownlyfe]

WUNMI MOSAKU AND BAKARI 👑👑😁

Annie and Smoke

(TikTok credit: @warnerbrosuk)

[brownlyfe]

[brownlyfe]

MBJ & Wunmi Mosaku

[brownlyfe]

One thing about me, I don’t play about Annie and Smoke’s relationship. NOTHING, screamed mammy about Wunmi’s sexy ass and I don’t like how some people have been stating that. What Smoke and Annie have is metaphysical. Their love transcends time and space so spare me with that bullshit. What y’all saw on the screen was grown, true, and pure. Don’t get it twisted.

[brownlyfe]

I still feel like Smoke x Reader fics are sacrilegious to me. Because that man is Anniesexual! Why are we fucking Annie’s man?

We can easily take Stack. Mary’s already an adulterer. She’d understand.