THE WORLD’S GREATEST TREASURE HUNTER

❝ 𝐌𝐄 & 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐍’ 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓! ❞

[hoetachi]

ALL THE WORLD'S JEWELS WILL BE MINE

LONG TIME NO SEE, TREASURE HUNTER

꒰ 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐓.ᐟ₍^. .^₎ ꒱ 21, jamaican, she/her, big libra, your favorite gem to your favorite men .ᐟ ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐

HOW PRETTY! ⤠ my latest gem to the collection

MY PRECIOUS GEMS ⤠ look through my elegant assortment of jewels

BETTER BEHAVE YOURSELVES ⤠ explore my more erotice jewels

WHAT'D YA THINK OF MY BEAUTIFUL TECHNIQUE?! ⤠ the protocol when wandering my luxurious gallery

[pinkmirth]

𝒩𝐸𝒞𝑇𝒜𝑅.ᐟ ❤︎ ft. adrian ‘ alucard ’ țepeș!

CONTAINS ⨾ ( 2.5k+ ) words of . . . nsfw, adrian ‘alucard’ țepeș x vampire!fem!reader ( black coded ), canon-divergent, set in the set in the 15th century ( late 1400s ), established relationship, soft-dom!alucard, nasty rawww freaky ass vampire sex, missionary, blood-letting, blood drinking, size difference, use of pet names ( e.g. love, darling, iubire, etc. ), explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo! 

𝓂𝓎 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇.ᐟ ❥ requested by the lovely @rsv3n! thank you for the splendid idea <3 i think lulu would be veryyy open to a blood-sharing ritual — actually he’s a little too excited, lol >.< he’d love teasing you with that thick, red sweetness, swapping the liquid between your tongues as he fucks you nice 'n deep mmm . . that’s as intimate as can be, and he wants to be irrevocably close to you . plsss hubby is just so in love <3 please enjoy this little blood-stained drabble, and thank you for reading! ❤︎

𝐼𝒩𝒮𝑃𝒪 𝑇𝑅𝒜𝒞𝒦.ᐟ ( ♫ )  drunk in love, beyoncé ⨾ candy, cameo ⨾  a little death, the neighborhood ⨾ whatever you want, tony! toni! toné! ⨾  join me in death, HIM ⨾  blur, the marias

dhampir blood is cloying, to put it best. sticky, syrupy, and far more potent than any mortal vein. your husband had been kind enough to let you drink in that confirmation just hours ago. 

castlevania’s ancient stone held the chill of a thousand transylvanian winters, but within alucard’s grand bedroom suite, the air was just about thick enough to tangibly cut through. on the floor lay a forgotten graveyard of finery — stiff silk corsets and a froth of ruffled lace embroidery cast aside in the height of your lustful fever.

with a reverence that treats you like glass, alucard has you laid upon velvet furs, dropping you tenderly as if you weren't immortally powerful. he lowers his own body down to yours, defined and beautifully scarred, until his limbs entwine with your own and the cold of the castle fades into a distant memory. 

your skin remains so soft to the touch, holding this otherworldly glow; even after turning into something devoid of life. in the guttering candlelight, his pale skin looks like polished marble, the flickering flame highlighting the pink slash of his flesh scar, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between your cold, pressed bodies. he was only one part mortal, a beautiful contradiction you find it to be — and beneath his ribs, half of a heart still drums a slow, heavy rhythm. 

alucard’s hips find their home between your thighs once he finally sinks into you. you bracket the slim taper of his waist with your trembling legs, head throwing back as he presses the slippery crown of his pretty cock past the sticky schism of your puffy lips. you moan so deliciously whenever he enters you, a sound as coaxing as a lullaby; he doubts he’s ever heard anything sweeter. 

his wispy blonde lashes flutter whenever your gushing hole contracts just enough to squeeze around the girth of him. he swears your heartbeat never truly left you; it must’ve simply gone down to your cunt, waiting for his touch to call it back to the surface. he begins to press into you with slow, deliberate rocking. it utterly delights him — watching you mewl at the stretch he brings, breasts swaying with each thrust deep, grounding thrust he feeds you. 

“adrian . . mmm, d—don’t hold back on me,” your plush lips are agape, the sliver of your precise fangs shining as you puff out sultry breaths of air out between them. “please, my love, fuck me faster,” you plead, the soft ache of knowing you can handle him — and that he knows it too — melting thick and heavy between you. 

your stiletto claws glide like the flat of a smooth blade over his skin, tearing vivid lines of crimson down the pale, broad canvas of his back. a low chuckle spills from him, dark and sweet like honeycomb, sending a deep, rhythmic throb straight through your core. there’s no need for words; you both know the truth by now. he craves the bite of your pain.

“whatever you wish, my dear,” he indulges your request, no matter how bratty your whims might be, and takes a firm hold of your waist; hands locking onto the dipped curve of it, anchoring you to the bed, to him, so he can plow into your sopping pussy until the sharp collision of slapping skin casts the wettest, most lewdest of echoes throughout his bedchamber. your voice breaks into a scream of pure delight, a sweet kind of sound that vibrates through the room, making the ancient wallachian-pine of the bedframe creak and groan beneath every heavy drop he makes into you. 

he begins to groan out your name between labored huffs, fangs bared with every breathless moan that slips out from his bobbing throat. adrian lowers his head, a curtain of golden hair cascading around him as his dark gaze fixes on the exact point where he enters you — over, and over, and over again. 

you peer up at him lovingly, trace the image of your angel of a husband; watching as the base of his throbbing cock sheathes in deep, just to reappear with every heavy, punctuated drive of his hips. his abdomen flexes tightly with the effort. higher up, his thin brows are drawn up, pearly teeth grit, and his nose scrunched as his eyes squeeze shut in the pure surge of pleasure. then, your gaze drifts, zoning in on his exposed throat. 

you find yourself fixated on the slender, elegant line of his neck, tracing the way it curves seamlessly into his shoulders and collarbone — you’ve always held a soft spot for it, your lips constantly drawn to kiss and nuzzle the skin there. the sloping protrusion of his adam’s apple catches your gaze of how he swallows down his pooling desire, all as you eye that subtle vein running along the side, pulsing with every breath. 

the curiosity has lived in you for so long — the wonder of what a dhampir’s blood might taste like . . . what alucard’s would taste like. as the intensity between you builds, your dilated eyes blow wide, mouth parting as you fixate on his neck. your focus narrows entirely on the way the veins running along it grow prominent, with all the exertion he’s putting into fucking his darling wife so, so well. 

your husband’s always had the uncanny ability to anticipate your thoughts, even before you act on them. his eyes snap open, catching you in the act; as if the sudden, ebbing heat in his flowing arteries have already warned him exactly where you want to bite. the hammering pulse in his throat begins to thrum harder. 

“ah, you thirst . . . is that it, my love? shall I grab a chalice?” he delivers an especially grinding thrust, pairing it with the humble swipe of his thumb over your clit. you whine, you nod, you weep, all from the sheer pleasure of it. your head tosses against the pillows, the thorny edge of your nails sinking into his shoulder blades until fresh, bright blood spills and beads over your grip. it takes everything in your being to keep your hands from drifting up to your awaiting tongue. 

“hnnn! y-yes, but I . . . I want yours,” you manage to gasp the words out, even as the heavy force of his rhythm knocks the breath right from your lips. your eyes lock — your glassy, completely dilated gaze catching the piercing gold of his. in that silent, breathless look, everything clicks. he finally gets it.

“you — haah, you wish to taste of me?” adrian questions, leaning down low, slowing his thrusts and fucking into you harder, deeper, as if to pound the truth out of you. you nod, teary and needy, hands trailing up to caress either side of his neck, warming his silken skin with your open palms.

“mhm,” you whisper, “i’m sure you’re sweeter than any wine . . .” your teeth catch your bottom lip, aching for the moment his potent blood finally drips onto your tongue. you clench around him at the mere thought, a sudden heat that ripples through you both. adrian feels your pulse throb in perfect tandem against his skin as his hips continue their slow, heavy roll. 

“fuck,” he manages out, the word torn from his throat. he never imagined a desire so dark would excite him so. “for how long have you yearned for this?”

“far too long, my love,” you mewl against his skin, pressing stray, wet kisses up the length of his neck. your fangs lightly graze his sweat-sheened throat, catching right over his adam’s apple. you suck gently against the pulse point, the sharp friction causing him to twitch and jump deep inside you with a sudden, ragged gasp.

“resist no longer, iubire.” he whines lowly, the muscles of his thighs and core flexing hard against you with every deep shove. “take what you want.”  alucard gathers his long blond hair in one hand, sweeping the heavy tresses over his shoulder to bare the smooth expanse of his neck. you gaze up at him, mapping the absolute submission written on his face. his golden irises gleam back at you in the dark, glinting with a sharp, needy excitement as he waits to feel your fangs against his skin.

as if to soothe your hesitation, he implores you with the breath of a command against your skin. "drink of me." he whispers, his voice a low, heavy vibration that seems to echo through the silent stones of the chamber.

sliding up the smooth, warm expanse of his neck in your hands, you bring your lips to his skin with a grateful reverence. leaning in, you allow your fangs to graze the hot skin of his jugular, tracking the frantic ba-dum of the pulse that marks his human heritage.

when you finally, finally, bite down, alucard lets out the sharpest, most ragged breath, his hands locking onto your hips as he bucks up into you at the welcome intrusion. his rich dhampir blood surges into your mouth — a potent, velvety syrup that tastes of concentrated life and a deep, metallic sweetness that coats your tongue like the most saccharine nectar.

“hngh, y—yes, yes, yes . . .” his eyes scroll back into his head as you cradle his beautiful face in your hands, completely helpless under your touch as you drain him, lapping his blood hungrily into your mouth. the fluid is intoxicatingly rich and warm, sliding down your throat like a heavy, golden essence that could only belong to a dhampir. he trembles beneath you, utterly consumed by the way your tongue sweeps along his major artery, siphoning every sugary drop of the rich blood he so willingly surrenders to you.

you let out a soft, gratified moan at the cloying sweetness of him; though not entirely drinking every ounce he offers. you hold some of the thick velvet syrup behind your teeth — gathering just enough in your mouth to perform the ancient ritual you have next in mind. pulling back just an inch, you meet his gaze with a heavy, unblinking focus, your plush mouth stained with the red coppery-taste of his life-force. 

alucard blinks down at you hazily, his golden eyes blown out and dazed as he groans against your lips. when you finally press your mouth back to his, the exchange is thick, visceral, and wet; nasty and lawless, just as vampires would do. your fangs clash against his — a sharp clicking of ivory, as you share a desperate kiss that blends salt and iron. the rich essence slicks your tongues, and alucard greedily drinks his life-force straight back from your mouth.

alucard tilts his hips into yours with a slow, grinding force, his large frame pinning you flat against sheets of romanian silk as he slides deeply inside you. his hands find yours against the soft bedding, his long fingers sliding between your own to intertwine and lock your palms tightly together. the direct friction of his thighs against yours generates a massive heat that matches the warm syrup coating your tongues. 

he pulls back just an inch, his eyes glowing a fierce gold in the dim light as he gives one final, bone-deep shove that leaves you both trembling. his lips are stained a deep, beautiful red, mirroring your own — an eerily visual proof of the truest, most pure way for your kind to love, carving out a permanent sanctuary that exists completely outside the mortal world.

“never thought my wife would be so . . . thirsty,” he muses, swiping his tongue over your lips. you can feel him smiling against them, a soft and intimate pressure. you’re nearing closer to the edge, all from the searing taste of his blood, every sensation amplified to a fever pitch. he is also hazy from the feeding, his movements turning drawled and heavy as he rolls into you.

“c–cumming,” he huffs, grinding his pelvis down into yours one last. “mmm . . me too,” you clasp your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a messily wet kiss as your walls pull taut around him, reaching your climax with a silent scream released straight into his mouth.

he returns the intensity, fucks shallowly into your gripping cunt; spilling thick, lukewarm ribbons of his heavy load deep inside you. you both rock into each other, riding the high of it all with shut eyes, panting into each other’s mouths until the heat finally peaks. adrian lifts himself off of you to lay beside you, his strong arms coiled around your waist to pull you close against his chest.

side-by-side in the stillness of the chamber, you lay curled together on the plush bedding. the ancient castle grows still, though the heat of the moment remains between you. he drowsily blinks his heavy eyes open, his cheeks a beautiful, shaded rose that deepens into a rich crimson. his mouth is slightly agape, the lower lip stained with the bright, copper taint of his own life-force. 

“you still look rather . . . parched, my love.” his hand slides up to caress your waist, his smile widening slightly as he offers you his bare throat. his fingertips trace the wet bite marks on his neck, marveling a bit at the funny, new sensation of being on the receiving end of those punctured holes. knowing the wounds will knit together soon, he silently urges you to lean back in and get some your fill before his flesh heals over.

“come, dragă mea,” he insists, pulling you in closer by your waist until you're flush against him. bringing his thumb up, he slowly swipes it over your reddened lip, his mirthful golden eyes searching yours. 

“don’t you want more?” 

© 𝒫𝐼𝑁𝐾ℳ𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐻.ᐟ ⸻ all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. reblogs are highly appreciated! please and thank you! ❤︎

[nubianqueensworld]

LUST AT FIRST BITE

PART ONE

WARNINGS: SMUT, Oral Sex(F receiving), Slight Non-Consensual, Spit Play

PAIRINGS: Vampire!Stack x Black OC

Synopsis: Summer, 1995. The air is thick with heat and music as Tenille steps into Mississippi’s most legendary party, expecting nothing more than a night of dancing and distraction. But when she meets Stack—a man whose charm is hypnotic and whose presence feels centuries deep—everything changes. There’s something about him that defies explanation. And as the night stretches toward dawn, Tenille begins to realize that Stack isn’t just unforgettable—he’s not entirely human.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mississippi in July didn’t sleep—it sweltered. The air was thick with humidity and the scent of honeysuckle, fried catfish, and cigarette smoke. Cicadas screamed from the trees like they were trying to out-sing the music pouring from every open door downtown. It was 1995, and the city’s biggest summer party had taken over the streets—an annual ritual of sweat, rhythm, and reckless joy.

Downtown was a blur of neon signs and chrome rims, of girls in gold hoops and guys in silk shirts, of laughter that echoed off brick walls and bass that shook the pavement. Corner stores stayed open late, selling grape sodas and Black & Milds to anyone with a dollar and a smile. The club—Club Onyx—was the epicenter. A converted warehouse with exposed beams, sticky floors, and red lights that made everyone look like they had secrets.

Tenille stepped out of the cab like she was stepping onto a stage. She wore a green, yellow, and purple hockey jersey—oversized, bold, and unmistakably hers. Her gold necklaces caught the light, her hoop earrings swung with every step, and her red nails tapped against her clutch like a metronome. She wasn’t here for love. She wasn’t even here for trouble. She was here to dance, to forget, to feel something real in a world that often felt too quiet.

Inside, the music was loud and low—Southern hip-hop mixed with slow-grind R&B. The DJ spun vinyl like it was gospel, and the crowd moved like a single body, pulsing with heat and desire. Tenille found her girls near the bar, already laughing, already tipsy.

“There she go!” Shara shouted, waving her hands. “Miss Jackson if ya nasty!”

Tenille strutted over, jersey swingin’, gold hoops catchin’ the strobe light. “Y’all betta’ be glad I came here.”

Keisha laughed, pulling her onto the floor. “Girl, hush and catch this beat. DJ playin’ our cut!”

Tasha was already mid-dip, her acrylics in the air, curls bouncin’ like springs. “Ain’t nobody sittin’ down tonight!”

The beat dropped, and the girls hit it hard—shoulders popping, hips rolling, knees bent low like they was born to do it. Tenille dropped it, came back up slow, and hit a little two-step that made a dude nearby spill his drink.

“Lawd,” he muttered, watching her. “Y’all from around here?”

Keisha hollered, “This that Delta bounce, baby! You ain’t ready!”

The DJ switched it up, slidin’ into “Shoop” by Salt-N-Pepa. Tasha screamed, “Ooooh! That’s my shit!” and started rappin’ every word like she was on stage.

Tenille shouted, “Y’all better act like y’all got knees!”

Shara grabbed a stranger’s hand and spun him. “Don’t be scared, baby! I ain’t gon’ bite unless you ask nice!”

Keisha leaned into Tenille, breathless. “Girl, this the kinda night we gon’ talk about when we old and sittin’ on somebody’s porch.”

Tenille nodded, smiling. “Shoot, I’m tryna make memories and mistakes.”

Tasha hollered, “Y’all better dance like your ex just walked in with his new lil thang!”

Shara cackled. “If I see mine, I’ma dance harder just to remind him what he fumbled!”

Keisha added, “And if I see mine, I’ma ask him to hold my purse while I twerk.”

They all burst out laughing. The music kept pumping, the floor stayed hot, and the girls were the storm in the middle of it all—loud, proud, and Southern to the bone.

Stack sat back in the velvet booth, one arm stretched across the top, his drink untouched. The women around him were leaning in close—laughing, flirting, trying to get a reaction. One had her hand on his thigh, another was whispering in his ear, breath hot with gin and lip gloss.

He didn’t hear a word of it.

His eyes were locked on the dance floor.

Tenille was out there, jersey swinging off one shoulder, gold hoops catching’ the strobe light, red nails flashing as she moved. She wasn’t just dancing-she was commanding. Her hips rolled with the beat, her smile flashed like lightning, and the crowd gave her space like they knew better.

She moved like she was born in rhythm. Like her body remembered something her mind didn’t. Stack licked his lips slow, imagining the way she might taste—warm, sweet, alive.

Stack stood up adjusting his sweater. “Y’all sweet company, no doubt… but I seen somethin’ down there I can’t ignore. ‘Scuse me, ladies.”

Stack stepped down from the velvet-lined VIP section, his Timbs hitting the floor with quiet confidence. The crowd pulsed around him, but he moved like he had a map—eyes locked on Tenille.

She was dancing, but not for attention. Her moves were sharp, self-contained. She didn’t need anyone to validate her rhythm.

Stack didn’t interrupt. He waited until the beat dipped, then stepped into her space—not too close, just enough to be noticed.

His senses activated as soon as he got near her. He had to stop himself from drooling at how good she smelled. Her sweat mixed the smell of Spritz and the soft smell of Cocoa butter filled his nostrils.

If she smelled this good imagine how good she tas-

…Stack clenched his jaw and pulled the thought back before it got too far. He wasn’t here to feed just yet—he was here to feel. And Tenille? She had him feeling more than he’d planned.

“You been out here killin’ it,” he said, voice low and steady. “Thought I’d come say somethin’ before the night ended.”

Tenille didn’t smile, but her eyes stayed on him. “You from around here?”

“Clarksdale,” he said. “Born and raised. You?”

“Jackson.”

He nodded. “Alright then. You got that Jackson edge.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What edge?”

“The kind that don’t take no mess.”

Tenille gave a short laugh. “You ain’t wrong.”

They stood there for a moment, the music rolling around them.

“You got a name?” she asked.

“Stack,” he said. “And you?”

“Tenille.”

“Nice to meet you, Tenille.”

She didn’t say anything, just kept moving to the beat. Stack matched her rhythm, hands low, respectful.

“You mind if I dance with you?” he asked.

Tenille paused, then gave a small nod. “Just don’t get too close.”

“I hear you.”

They danced—slow, steady, no pressure. Stack kept his eyes on her face, not her body. She noticed that. Her shoulders relaxed a little.

“You don’t talk much,” she said.

“Ain’t much to say when the music’s good.”

She gave him a look, not quite a smile, but close.

The song faded, and Stack leaned in just enough to be heard.

“You thirsty?” he asked. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Crown. Straight.”

“Figured.”

They walked off the floor together, her girls watching from the side. Stack nodded at them.

“I got her,” he said. “She good with me.”

Keisha raised an eyebrow. “She better be.”

Stack smiled, gold tooth flashing. “She will.”

Tenille looked at him again, this time with less guard and more curiosity. Stack didn’t rush it. He just let the night do what it was gonna do.

Stack led Tenille through the crowd, not holding her hand, but walking close enough that she didn’t get bumped. The bar was busy, folks leaning in loud, trying to get the bartender’s attention. Stack didn’t push or wave—he just waited, calm and steady.

Tenille leaned on the counter, glancing sideways at him. “You always this patient?”

Stack smiled, dimples showing, gold tooth catching the light. “Ain’t no point in rushin’. Drink gon’ come when it come.”

She nodded, impressed but not showing it too much. “Most dudes be hollerin’.”

“I ain’t most dudes.”

The bartender finally came over. Stack didn’t hesitate. “Crown, straight for the lady. I’ll take Henny.”

Tenille raised an eyebrow. “You remembered.”

“Hell yeah. How I forget something from someone as beautiful as you.”

They got their drinks, and Stack handed hers over without a word. She took it, sipped slow, eyes still on him.

“You from Clarksdale, huh?” she asked.

“Yeah. Grew up off Highway 61. Blues country.”

“You still live out there?”

“Nah. I move around. Got a spot outside town now. Quiet.”

Tenille nodded. “I like quiet.”

Stack leaned on the bar, facing her. “You still stay in Jackson?”

“Yep. Still there. For now.”

He took a sip of his drink, then looked at her. “You come out here often?”

“Not really. My girls wanted to get out the house. I just tagged along.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

She gave him a look—half skeptical, half curious. “You always this flirtatious.”

Stack chuckled. “I just talk regular. Folks either like it or they don’t.”

Tenille smiled, finally. “You alright.”

“Appreciate that.”

They stood there for a moment, letting the music thump behind them, letting the drinks settle in. Her girls were still watching from across the room, but Tenille didn’t seem in a rush to go back.

“You dance good,” she said.

“You do too.”

She laughed. “I know.”

Stack grinned, dimples deep. “Confidence look good on you.”

Tenille sipped her drink again, then set it down. “You tryna be out all night or you just passin’ through?”

“I ain’t got nowhere I need to be. You?”

She shrugged. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“On how the night goes.”

Stack nodded. “Fair enough.”

They didn’t say much after that. Just stood close, letting the silence do its job. No pressure. No games. Just two folks from Mississippi, sharing a drink and a little bit of time.

The DJ slid into Kut Klose’s “I Like,” and the whole room shifted. Lights dimmed low, bass slowed down, and folks started moving like they had something sweet on their minds.

Stack leaned in close to Tenille. “Mmm... you know this one, don’tcha?”

Tenille smiled, already swaying. “Yeah. This one right here? Classic.”

Stack didn’t say nothing else. Just held out his hand, palm up. She took it, and they eased onto the floor.

They moved slow. Real slow. Stack’s hand found her waist, gentle but sure. Her fingers rested on his shoulder, light as cotton.

The music wrapped around them like a warm July night. Stack leaned in, his breath tickling her ear. “You smell damn good. I wonder if you taste just as sweet.”

Tenille whimpered and her legs slightly buckled at his words. Stack smirked seeing the affect he had on her.

They danced close, bodies speaking a language older than words. Her hips matched his rhythm, and his hand didn’t wander—it just held her like he knew how to treat something precious.

Then came that moment—quiet, electric. Stack tilted his head, eyes searching hers through his glasses. “Can I?”

Tenille didn’t answer with words. She leaned in, lips meeting his in a kiss that was slow, warm, and full of promise.

When they pulled back, Stack kept his voice low. “I got me a lil spot not far from here. Ain’t nothin’ fancy, but it’s quiet. You wanna ride out with me?”

Tenille paused, then nodded. “Alright.”

They walked over to her girls, who were watching like hawks.

Shara stepped up first. “Girl, where you goin’?”

Tenille grabbed her purse, calm. “Stack invited me over.”

Keisha frowned. “You sure? You just met him.”

Tenille nodded. “I’m good.”

Stack raised both hands, respectful. “She safe with me. I ain’t no fool.”

Shara looked him up and down, then back at Tenille. “Keep your pager on you. You hear me?”

“I will.”

Keisha added, “If he act funny, you hit us up. We comin’.”

Stack chuckled, voice low. “Ain’t gon’ be no need for that. I treat folks right.”

Tenille hugged her girls quick, then turned to Stack. “Let’s go.”

They stepped out into the night, the music still humming behind them. The Mississippi air was thick, but it felt good—like something was about to happen.

————————————————-

Before the door could even close, the two were already on each other. Stack kicked the door shut with his foot, and picked up Tenille. She wrapped her legs around him, moaning feeling his tongue enter her mouth.

He carried her down the hallway, his lips trailing along her neck as she clung to him. Her eyes fluttered open, catching a glimpse of the hallway mirror—and froze. The glass reflected only her, suspended in midair. Stack’s image was missing entirely. A chill ran through her spine. It was as if she were being held by something not fully there, something impossible.

Her breath hitched, but before her thoughts could spiral, Stack’s voice brushed against her ear.

“I wanted your pussy on my mouth since I saw you, baby.”

His grip tightened just slightly, grounding her in the moment.

“You gon’ let me please you, tonight.”

Tenille didn’t answer. She couldn’t—not yet. Her mind was still stuck on that mirror, on the absence that shouldn’t have been possible. But her body leaned into him anyway, caught between fear and desire, heat and cold, reality and something else.

Something ancient.

Something watching.

Tenille’s breath caught. Her body was already leaning into him, but her mind hadn’t let go of what she saw.

She pressed her hand to his chest, firm. “Put me down.”

Stack paused, brow raised. “You sure, baby?”

“I need to stand,” she said. “I need to see you.”

He didn’t argue. He set her down slow, like she was something delicate. Her feet hit the floor, and she backed up a step, eyes scanning him.

“You wore them shades all night,” she said. “Even inside.”

“Ain’t no such thing as too much shade down here.”

“And in the mirror…” Her voice faltered. “I ain’t see you. Just me. Floatin’.”

Stack’s smile didn’t fade, but it didn’t reach his eyes either. “Mirrors be tricky sometimes.”

“No,” she said, voice tightening. “They ain’t.”

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her like he had all the time in the world. “You scared?”

Tenille swallowed. “Not scared. Just… confused.”

Stack stepped closer, slow and easy. “Then stop thinkin’. Feel me.”

She didn’t move. Not yet. But her body was still humming, still drawn to him.

And he knew it.

Stack stepped closer to Tenille, the colors of his Coogi sweater catching the low light like fire stitched into fabric. He moved like the night was his to command.

Without a word, he reached up and slid his sunglasses off, folding them with care and slipping them into his pocket.

Tenille’s breath caught.

His eyes—brown, but threaded with glowing hints of blue—lit up faintly in the dark. Not like a trick of the light. Not like anything she’d ever seen. They pulsed like something alive beneath the surface.

She took a half-step back, startled. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs.

Stack didn’t flinch. He just watched her, calm and unreadable.

“You wanna really know who I am, darlin’?” he asked, voice velvet-smooth.

Tenille swallowed, her body still humming with heat, her mind spinning with questions. But she didn’t look away.

Tenille didn’t speak. She just nodded, slow and cautious.

Stack’s expression softened, just a little. “It’s a long story,” he said. “You might wanna sit down for this.”

He extended his hand.

Tenille hesitated, her fingers hovering just above his. Then, slowly, she placed her hand in his.

He led her down the hallway, past the mirror she couldn’t stop thinking about, and into the bedroom.

It was dark. The walls swallowed the light, but the red curtains glowed faintly from the streetlamp outside. The bed was dressed in deep red silk, the sheets catching the light like liquid. Everything in the room felt heavy, intimate, like it had been waiting for this moment.

Stack turned to her, still holding her hand.

“You sure you ready?” he asked.

Tenille didn’t answer.

She just stepped closer.

Tenille sat on the edge of the bed, the red silk sheets cool beneath her fingers. The room was quiet, thick with the weight of what she’d just seen—his eyes still glowing faintly in the dark.

Stack stood across from her, framed by the red curtains.

He took a breath, slow and steady. “Name’s Elias. Folks used to call me Stack. Still do.”

Tenille looked up at him, silent.

“I was born here in Mississippi,” he said. “Back when the roads was dirt and the nights was louder than the days. Had a twin—Elijah. Folks called him Smoke. We left home young, went overseas. War changed us.”

He paused, eyes flickering.

“When we came back, we ain’t stay long. Ended up in Chicago. Got into some things. Ran with some people. Al Capone, if you can believe it. But that city… it ain’t never felt like home. So we came back. Opened a juke joint. Thought we could build somethin’ real.”

Tenille’s brows furrowed. “That was… what, the thirties?”

Stack gave a slow nod. “’Bout that.”

She stared at him. “That ain’t possible.”

He stepped closer. “Ain’t much about me that is.”

Tenille’s breath caught again. “What happened?”

Stack’s eyes darkened, the glow pulsing faintly. “They came. The night we opened. Not people. Not really. Somethin’ else. Took Smoke.Left me with teeth and hunger and time.”

He looked down at his hands, flexed them once.

“I been walkin’ ever since. Tryin’ to stay ahead of what I became. Tryin’ not to lose what’s left.”

Tenille’s voice was barely a whisper. “And me?”

Stack looked at her, something soft flickering behind the glow. “You feel like a reason to stop runnin’.”

Tenille stared at him, her brows drawn tight, unsure if she’d heard him right.

Stack’s voice was low. “I been alone a long time, sweetheart. Lookin’ for someone to walk with me. Not just for a season. For good.”

He stepped closer, the glow in his eyes pulsing faintly. “When I saw you on that dance floor… everything in me went quiet. I just knew. I had to have you.”

He paused, letting the words settle.

“For eternity. Forever.”

Tenille’s breath caught. A chill ran down her spine, not from fear—but from the weight of it. The finality. The promise.

She didn’t speak. She couldn’t.

Forever.

She wasn’t ready to be with anyone. Maybe for a night. Definitely not for eternity.

Tenille stayed seated on the edge of the bed, her fingers gripping the red silk sheets. Her voice was quiet, but firm. “I’m not ready. I can’t give you forever.”

Stack didn’t move. His glowing eyes stayed locked on hers, but something shifted in his face. The calm was gone.

“You sure?” he asked, voice low but harder now.

She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Stack turned slightly, jaw tight. The glow in his eyes flared—blue bleeding into gold, pulsing faster. His breath came heavier.

“I been patient,” he said. “I been walkin’ this world with hunger in my bones and silence in my chest. You think I came this far just to hear no?”

Tenille’s heart pounded. She didn’t answer.

Stack stepped closer. His face was tense, eyes burning.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he said. “To feel it every night. That ache. That need.”

Tenille shifted back on the bed, her body tense. “Stack…”

He didn’t stop. “I ain’t askin’ anymore.”

His voice was different now—rough, edged with something sharp. The hunger was there, in his eyes, in the way he moved.

Tenille’s breath sped up. “Please…”

Stack stopped at the foot of the bed, staring down at her. “I don’t want to hurt you, darlin’. But I ain’t built to be alone no more.”

She tried to stand, but he was already there—close, too close.

Tenille’s voice cracked. “Don’t do this.”

Stack’s eyes flared again. “Then don’t leave.”

Tenille’s heart was jackhammering in her chest. She slid off the bed fast, her legs shaky but moving. Stack didn’t lunge, he just turned his head slow, eyes glowing like coals, watching her like a predator that didn’t need to chase.

She bolted down the hallway, socks slipping on the hardwood, and ducked into the guest room. Slammed the door. Locked it.

Her pager was already in her hand. She punched in Shara’s emergency code — 911 — followed by her address. Hit send.

Nothing.

She stared at the screen. No beep. No vibration. No confirmation.

“What the hell…” she muttered, hitting the buttons again. Still nothing.

Outside the door, Stack’s footsteps creaked. No rush. Just in a calm rhythm.

“You think that little toy gonna save you?” he said. “This house don’t play by your rules, baby.”

Tenille backed into the corner, clutching the pager like it might still work if she prayed hard enough.

Stack’s voice came again, closer now. “You pagin’ ghosts. Ain’t nobody comin’.”

She looked around the room. One window. No landline. No phone. Just her, the broken pager, and whatever Stack was becoming.

“I didn’t want it to go this way,” he said. “But you made your choice.”

Behind her, the doorknob rattled.

Tenille backed toward the window, fingers fumbling with the latch. She tried to lift it—nothing. It wouldn’t budge. She shoved harder. Locked tight.

Stack’s voice came again, smoother now. “Tenille… baby girl, open this door.”

She didn’t move.

“I ain’t mad,” he said. “I just want to talk. Just want to see you. You know I ain’t never met nobody like you.”

His voice dipped, slow and syrupy. “You had somethin’ in you, Tenille. The way you moved out there… like you wasn’t just dancin’. Like you was callin’ me.”

He paused. “I ain’t never seen a woman carry heat like that. Like your soul already knew mine.”

Tenille’s breath hitched. She turned back to the door, eyes wide.

“I ain’t tryin’ to scare you,” Stack said. “I’m tryin’ to love you. Real love. The kind that don’t fade. The kind that don’t die.”

The doorknob rattled again, harder this time.

“I can give you everything,” he whispered. “You’ll never be cold again. Never be lonely.”

Tenille stepped back, pager still clutched in her hand. The window was sealed. The door was shaking. And Stack was losing patience.

His voice dropped to a growl. “You mine, Tenille. You just don’t know it yet.”

He paused, then his voice dropped lower, rougher.

“You came here wantin’ it. Don’t lie. You wanted to feel me on you. Wanted me to take you down and make you forget your damn name.”

Tenille’s breath caught. She stepped back from the door, pager still clutched in her hand.

“You think I didn’t see it?” Stack continued. “The way you looked at me. The way you let me touch you. You wanted to get fucked, Tenille. You wanted it deep and slow, or hard and fast—I could see it all over you.”

The doorknob rattled again, harder this time.

“I didn’t drag you here,” he said. “You walked in. You wanted me. And I still want you. But I ain’t built to beg.”

Tenille’s eyes darted to the window again. Still sealed. No way out.

Stack’s voice was a growl now. “Open this door. Let me give you what you came for.”

Tenille stared at the door, her breath shallow. The room was quiet except for the low hum of Stack’s voice bleeding through the wood.

“I’ll put you on your knees,” he said. “Make you forget how to stand. You’ll be beggin’ with your mouth full, cryin’ for more while I’m still inside you.”

Her legs moved before her mind caught up. One step. Then another.

“I’ll bend you over that dresser,” he continued, rough now. “Grip your hips so tight you’ll feel me for days. You want that. You came here wantin’ to be ruined.”

Tenille’s hand brushed the wall for balance. Her knees were weak, her heart racing.

“I’ll make you forget your own rules,” Stack growled. “Make you say my name like it’s the only word you know.”

She reached the door. Her fingers hovered near the knob. The wood was warm. Like it was breathing.

“You ain’t scared,” he said. “You’re ready. You just don’t wanna admit it.”

Tenille closed her eyes. Her hand touched the knob.

Stack’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Let me in, baby.”

Her body moved before her mind could catch up.

The pager slipped from her hand, landing on the floor with a soft thud. Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, and without thinking, she turned it.

The lock clicked.

The door creaked open.

The door hung open, just a crack.

Stack stood just outside, eyes glowing faintly, smile slow and crooked — his gold grills catching the light like a warning and a promise.

He didn’t step in.

“Door’s open, but I ain’t comin’ in ‘less you say it.”

Tenille’s breath hitched. Her fingers trembled against the edge of the door.

Stack leaned closer, one hand resting just outside the threshold. “Say the word, baby girl. Let me in.”

She didn’t speak.

“I’ll treat you right,” he said. “Make you feel like you ain’t never been touched before. You’ll forget every man before me.”

His smile widened, those gold fronts gleaming. “I ain’t gonna take nothin’ you don’t give. But if you want it — if you want me — you gotta say it.”

Tenille looked into his eyes. Her voice was barely a whisper.

“You can come in.”

—————————————————————————

The moment the words left her lips, the air shifted.

Stack stepped inside slowly, his eyes locked on hers.

He didn’t speak. Just reached out and cupped her face with one hand.

Tenille froze, breath caught in her throat.

Then his lips met hers.

Soft. Plump. Unhurried.

She tensed at first, unsure, her body stiff with hesitation. But as his mouth moved against hers, something inside her began to melt. Her shoulders relaxed. Her eyes fluttered shut.

He kissed her like he knew her. Like he’d been waiting for this moment longer than she could imagine.

And for a few seconds, Tenille let herself forget everything else.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched hers. “You feel that?” he murmured. “That’s real.”

Tenille’s breath trembled. She nodded, barely.

Stack smiled again. “I ain’t gonna rush you,” he said. “But you let me in, and I’m yours now. You understand?”

She swallowed hard. “I think so.”

He leaned in, forehead resting gently against hers. “You don’t gotta think. Just feel.”

The room felt different now. Charged. Quiet. Like the house itself was watching.

Stack didn’t say another word.

He took her hand, fingers laced tight, and guided her gently down the hallway. Tenille followed, her steps slow, her breath uneven. The house was quiet, every creak of the floorboards echoing like a heartbeat.

They reached the bedroom.

Stack turned to face her, eyes locked on hers. That gold smile flickered again, but softer now. He raised her hand to his lips, kissed her knuckles, then let go.

Tenille stood still as he stepped closer, his hands finding her waist, his touch firm but careful.

Tenille’s lips parted, but no words came out. Her heart was thudding so loud she swore he could hear it.

He smiled, slow and knowing. “You ain’t gotta be scared,” he said. “I’ll take my time. Make sure you feel every second.”

He leaned in just enough for her to feel the heat rolling off him.

“I won’t bite,” he added, lips close to her ear, “unless you ask.”

Tenille’s breath caught, her body tense with anticipation. But she didn’t pull away.

Stack’s eyes searched hers, waiting.

She swallowed hard, her body tense, but her gaze didn’t waver. “I’m not scared,” she said quietly.

Stack leaned in, “Then say it.”

Tenille hesitated, breath catching in her throat. But the way he looked at her like she was the only thing in the world worth touching made her pulse race.

“I want you,” she whispered.

Stack’s smile widened. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

He kissed her again, deeper this time, and Tenille didn’t hold back. Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, letting the moment swallow her whole.

Stack slid his arms around her waist and lifted her like she weighed nothing, carrying her to the bed with ease. He laid her down gently, eyes never leaving hers.

Then his hands found the hem of her hockey jersey.

“You been hidin’ all this from me?” he said, grinning as he pulled it up slow. “Mm. Look at you.”

The jersey slid over her head, revealing soft curves and warm skin. Stack’s gaze lingered, hungry but reverent.

“Damn, girl,” he murmured.

Stack leaned down, his breath warm against her skin. His lips brushed her chest, before he took her nipples in his mouth sucking them, savoring her like a secret.

Tenille gasped softly, her fingers resting at the back of his head. She held him there, her body arching into his touch, eyes fluttering shut as heat bloomed across her skin.

Stack didn’t rush.

After savoring her, he lifted his head just enough to meet Tenille’s eyes.

“You ain’t even ready,” he murmured, voice thick like honey.

Then he shifted, trailing kisses down her chest, across her ribs, and lower still. His tongue followed, leaving a long, warm stripe down the center of her stomach. Tenille shivered beneath him, her breath catching as her fingers curled tighter.

Stack paused just above her hips, eyes flicking up with that same teasing glint.

His hand slid down, fingers brushing the waistband of her underwear. He didn’t rush — just let them rest there, teasing the edge, waiting for her breath to catch.

Tenille’s body arched slightly, her skin alive beneath his touch.

Stack grinned. “Say the word,” he whispered. “I’ll keep goin’.”

Tenille nodded, breathless. “Keep goin’, please.”

He hooked his fingers under the waistband and eased her panties down. As they slid past her hips, his eyes locked on the small, neatly trimmed patch on her pussy—already glistening with anticipation.

Stack’s gaze darkened, lips parting with a low hum.

“Mm,” he murmured. “Look at you… already drippin’ for me.”

Tenille’s breath hitched, her body arching again as his fingers brushed her thigh, teasing the edge of where she wanted him most.

Stack leaned in, mouth close, voice even closer.

“You been waitin’ on this, huh?” he whispered. “I got you.”

Stack’s glowing eyes never left hers as he slid his hands beneath her thighs, lifting and wrapping them around his shoulders. His mouth hovered just above her pussy, breath warm against her skin.

Tenille’s fingers gripped the sheets, her breath shallow.

Then he leaned in, tongue flicking over her clit in one stroke.

“Oh—” she gasped, hips rising.

Stack hummed low against her, the vibration rolling through her like a pulse. His lips wrapped around her, sucking gently, then deeper.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, voice barely there.

Stack didn’t answer — just hummed again, mouth working with steady rhythm.

Tenille moaned softly, her body trembling beneath him.

He was locked in, focused, and she was unraveling.

Tenille’s moans filled the room, soft and breathless.

Below, the pressure in his jeans had grown unbearable — his dick straining hard against the denim. With one hand still gripping her thigh, he reached down and undid his pants, swift and practiced, never breaking rhythm. He pushed past the waistband of his boxers, freeing himself with a low groan as his hand wrapped around his fat, veiny dick.

He stroked himself slowly, the tension in his body rising with every sound she made.

Stack hummed low against her, the vibration rolling through her, making her hips buck.

“You got me so damn hard, baby,” he muttered against her. “I’m ’bout to bust just from tastin’ you.”

Stack’s grip tightened, stroking himself in rhythm with her moans.

This wasn’t just hunger.

It was need.

His mouth moved with more intent now — lips sealing around her, tongue continuously licking her clit. Tenille’s hips lifted, her breath catching with every pass.

She whimpered, “Stack…”

He groaned again as his hand worked, matching the rhythm of her unraveling.

Tenille’s thighs tightened around his shoulders, her voice breaking. “I’m close…”

Stack lifted his eyes. “Come on,” he murmured. “Cum on my tongue.”

She gasped, her body arching.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed, lips brushing her pussy. “Don’t hold back. I wanna feel you fall apart on me.”

“You’re right there,” he breathed. “Let it go. I got you.”

Her release hit hard, a full-body tremble that left her breathless. Stack held her through it, mouth never leaving her, hand still stroking himself.

He groaned deep, the sound guttural and raw, and with one final stroke, he spilled his nut into his hand, breath ragged, body shuddering as he buried his face against her thigh.

When he sat up, there was drool glistening on his chin, a mix of her release and his own hunger.

Tenille blinked, breath still shaky. “Stack… you’re drooling.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then looked at her with that sinful grin.

“You want a taste, sugar?” he drawled, eyes locked on hers.

She nodded, lips parting.

Stack reached out, his hand curling gently around her neck — firm, grounding, possessive.

“Open that pretty mouth,” he said.

She obeyed.

He tilted his head, let the spit fall.

Tenille moaned, swallowing without hesitation, her eyes fluttering shut.

Stack growled low, then kissed her hard — messy and deep, tongue sweeping in to claim what was his.

Then he pulled back just enough to look her in the eye.

“You so damn sexy, baby. You know that?” he said, eyes locked on hers like she was the only thing that mattered.

Tenille’s breath was still shaky, her lips parted from the kiss, her body humming from everything he’d just done to her.

Then her eyes drifted down.

He was still hard.

Thick, flushed, and twitching against his stomach — a mess of need that hadn’t faded, even after release.

Stack caught her staring and smirked. “You like what you see?”

She nodded.

His hand slid up her thigh, grip firm. “You want it inside you?”

Her answer was a whisper, but it carried weight. “Yes.”

Stack leaned in, eyes locked on hers. “Then come take it, baby. I’m yours.”

He let the moment stretch, voice dropping to a low drawl.

“You ever been fucked by a vampire?”

Tenille’s breath caught.

Her body answered before her mouth did — a slow shift forward, hips tilting, eyes burning with need.

Stack didn’t move.

He just watched her.

Waiting.

Daring.

And then, with her lips barely parted, she whispered, “Not yet.”

———————————————————

[hoetachi]

[hoetachi]

LOVEHAPPY II — E. (SMOKE) MOORE

➠ modernau! smoke x blk! reader

➠ mulan’s input; I LOVE BLACK LOVE!! i’ll be so fucked up if i didn’t do a part 2 fr & also shoutout to monaleo’s beautiful wedding mannnn

➠ cw; spiritual themes, pure fluff

smoke stood before her now, breath unsteady, eyes locked on the woman he was lucky enough to call his. the silence stretched for just a minute longer as he reached for her hand—calloused fingertips grazing her smooth ones, then clutching like a man holding onto grace itself.

he leaned in a little closer, voice low but thick with emotion. “i’m sorry,” he said, soft and sincere. “for makin’ you wait.”

the hush in the chapel was sacred.

“i ain’t talkin’ just ‘bout the altar,” he continued, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “i’m talkin’ 'bout all the years before this. all the time i was too afraid to believe i deserved somethin’ like you.”

“ain’t gon’ lie to you, i never thought i’d be up here like this. whole tux, a grand venue filled with friends and family, heart beatin’ like it’s tryin’ to escape my chest…”

stack whispered behind him, “it is, but i made sure the tailor stitched it in, don’t worry.” that caused the chapel to erupt in quiet laughter

“i ain’t never believed love like this was for men like me.”

“too much past. too many mistakes, but then you walked into my life like you already knew where everything was— heart, mind, soul. rearranged it all with a smile.”

“you ain’t try to fix me. you just… sat beside the broken parts like they were still beautiful.

“and that taught me somethin’—that love ain’t supposed to hurt. it’s supposed to heal.”

“so i promise—every damn day—to make you feel how you make me feel. like I got another shot. like i’m worthy. like I’m home.”

“you once told me you weren’t good with words, but baby…

“every time you looked at me like I was the only thing in the room? that was poetry.”

stack whispered, “damn, I need to borrow that for my next situationship.”

“you loved me quiet. you loved me loud. you loved me even when you thought you didn’t deserve to.

but elijah moore… you are the most deserving man I have ever known.”

“I vow to choose you, even on hard days. especially on hard days, because the roots are deep now. we don’t fear the wind anymore.” she smiled proudly as if her words were now law to both him and all their witnesses

he felt a weight lift off his chest—like annie’s spirit had just given him the green light to let this woman be his forever.

the priest cleared his throat, voice thick with emotion.

“you two gon’ cause rivers to flow through this chapel,” he said, wiping at the small beads forming in the corners of his eyes.

soft laughter rippled through the room, gentle and warm.

then he straightened, smiled, and asked,

“elijah moore, do you take y/n to be your lawful wedded wife?”

elijah let out a breath that sounded like a prayer. his gaze never left hers.

“i do,” he said, steady now. “with everything I am.”

the priest grinned, then turned to her with a raised brow and a smile.

“now y/n,” he said, voice light but full of warmth, “you better say ‘i do,’ because elijah might come with a little baggage… but at least he ain’t as much of a headache as his twin brother.”

stack threw up his hands from behind elijah.

“wow! y’all act like i’m the problem!”

smack!

cornbread didn’t even break posture—just reached out and popped stack in the back of the head.

“stop talkin’ before you talk yourself out the wedding party,” he muttered.

laughter rippled through the chapel. y/n smiled through it, eyes locked on elijah.

the priest, still chuckling, turned his attention back to her.

“y/n, do you take elijah moore to be your lawful wedded husband?”

without pause, with all the certainty in her heart, she said,

“i do. always.”

the priest smiled, warmth spreading through his expression like sunlight breaking through stained glass.

“by the power vested in me, and with the blessing of those present—and those watching from above—

i now pronounce you husband and wife.”

elijah didn’t waste a second. He stepped in, hand cupping her cheek, the other sliding around her waist—then, a little lower.

the kiss was deep, reverent… and clearly a little extra.

from behind them, stack’s voice rang out

“aye! aye now! there’s kids here with all that freak shit. save that for y’all honeymoon!”

the whole chapel broke, laughter bouncing off the stained glass.

cornbread’s hand came out like lightning—smack!—right to the back of stack’s head.

“let love live, damn,” he muttered.

elijah finally pulled back, a grin tugging at his lips as he whispered something only she could hear.

she blushed, shaking her head, still holding on.

the applause rose again, but he didn’t let go of her hand. not when they turned to face the crowd, not when the music started, not even when the chapel doors opened and sunlight poured in.

because this woman—his wife—was more than a promise.

she was home.

the moment the priest gave the go-ahead, they didn’t walk—they ran down the aisle, fingers laced, hearts pounding in sync.

cheers filled the chapel like music.

“let’s go, mr. and mrs. moore!”

“that’s forever right there!”

“you better carry her to the car, eli, don’t play!”

“y/n, you glowing, girl! we love to see it!”

smoke and y/n were glowing—faces lit up with joy, cheeks aching from smiling too hard. But when they stepped outside into the golden afternoon light, he tugged her hand gently and veered them off the paved path.

“wait,” he said quietly. “i wanna show you something.”

she raised an eyebrow, dress bunching as she followed him through a side gate near the chapel—away from the noise, the cameras, the crowd.

through the garden.

a soft breeze moved through the hedges and wildflowers. it was peaceful here—birds chirping, sunlight flickering through the leaves.

at the far end of the garden, nestled beneath a blooming crepe myrtle, was a small setup: a framed photo of annie, a candle already lit, and a folded cloth laid over a stone bench with a single white lily resting on top.

y/n paused. her breath caught.

smoke turned to face her, hands slightly shaking now that the adrenaline was fading.

“i ain’t bring you here to be sad,” he said, voice low but clear. “i brought you here ‘cause i made a promise—to annie… and to myself. that when i found peace again, when I found her…”

his hand tightened gently around hers.

“i’d come back and introduce the woman who made me whole again.”

he guided her to the bench and motioned for her to sit. before he joined her, he unpinned the boutonniere from his lapel—a small, crisp lily—and knelt down to place it gently beneath annie’s photo.

“every part of today... i carried you with me,” he murmured to the photo. “but this is where i let you rest.”

then he reached for the lighter on the bench, offering it to y/n. their fingers brushed.

“together?” he asked.

she nodded.

they leaned in, shielding the wick from the breeze, and lit the second candle side by side. as the new flame flickered to life, smoke looked at her, eyes clear.

“repeat after me,” he said softly.

y/n met his gaze.

“i carry your love,” he began.

“i carry your love,” she echoed.

“ i honor your story.”

“i honor your story.”

“and I walk forward, whole.”

“and I walk forward, whole.”

he took a deep breath, shoulders easing. the two flames burned side by side, casting a soft glow over the bench.

smoke sat beside her now, silence wrapping around them like a blanket.

and as they sat—hearts full, hands clasped—y/n blinked, and for just a breath of a moment, someone else was there.

annie.

sitting on the far end of the stone bench, bathed in dappled sunlight, her smile quiet and proud. her presence wasn’t loud or ghostly—it was peaceful, like she'd always been part of this moment, waiting for it.

her eyes met y/n’s, kind and steady.

“take care of him,” she said gently, voice like wind through leaves.

“i will,” y/n whispered, not questioning, not afraid—only honored.

annie looked at smoke, her smile softening even more.

“you did good.”

and then, like a ripple through sunlight, she was gone.

smoke’s eyes were still forward, watching the flames, unaware—but somehow, a faint peace had settled on his features, like maybe… deep down, he felt it.

y/n leaned her head on his shoulder.

“she’s proud of you,” she said.

smoke nodded slowly.

“now you know her.”

he kissed the back of her hand, and together, they sat—between grief and grace, past and present—where love had taken root again and grown something new.

y’all want the reception tomfoolery?

[alexinmotion]

“I'm sweeping these bitches, they wanna spit on the broom” 💅🏾🧹

✨ Stream Sexy Soulaan by Monaleo✨

[blond3ang3l]

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

Little kid Damian who's absolutely smug about stealing your (Jason's girlfriend) attention every time you come over.

He's a smug little shit and he knows exactly what he is doing. You and Kori were both the people he looked forward to seeing often. Preferring his brother's girlfriends rather than his brothers since you both treated him like the child he was instead of the assassin he was raised to be.

Jason doesn't mind you giving Damian your attention but then Damian started showing you off as his new big sister.

And instead of being upset Jason teases the shit out of you.

Damian will call you random hours of the day for absolutely nothing and Jason will pass you your phone saying that your "son" is calling.

How could you deny the boy your love and affection when all he wanted was to cling to you. He spent so many nights in you and Jason shared pent that he actually had his own room.

And as much Jason teased you about Damian you teased him right back because he dropped everything for the youngest boy. Many nights you woke up on the couch to him bringing in a sleeping Dami after getting a call from Bruce that he just couldn't get him to calm down.

Or even having to attend parent teacher conferences alongside Dick and Jason in place of Bruce when he had to act as CEO.

All of this made Jason want nothing more than a family with you. You both were already getting the practice. Now he just needed to put that into motion and warn Dami about his soon to be "younger siblings".

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

@mtcloudsworld

[hoetachi]

Girly where you been at, I miss you😞

i be in reality too much & forget to clock back into my passion sometimes stink

[hoetachi]

ummm…. hypothetically….. how does one make a tag list?

[hoetachi]

yall like how i updated my johnny series?

[hoetachi]

III. BURNT BRIDGES

| w.c 2.3k | previous |

𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟖 (present day)

4 MONTHS AGO NYC was in absolute awe at the news that hit the concrete streets of the big apple

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐆𝐋𝐄

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐮𝐬, 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲... 𝑯𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅? Tony Stark Engaged to Y/N L/N—But How Long Will It Last?

𝐓𝐌𝐙

𝐈𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲! Y/N L/N and Tony Stark Are Officially Engaged!

johnny storm hated galas now.

not because he didn’t clean up well—he did. still looked sharp in a suit, still got the looks, still had that movie star jawline that made cameras turn. but after everything, after the spotlight stopped feeling like home, events like this just felt loud. unnecessary. like wearing a costume that didn’t fit anymore.

"you good?" reed asked as they stepped out of the car.

"define good," johnny muttered, adjusting his cufflinks.

reed gave a small smile. "you didn’t have to come."

"yeah, well. sue's ankles are the size of small planets right now, and ben’s got strict orders not to let her out of the house. so here i am. your charming plus-one."

reed laughed under his breath. "let's just try not to set anything on fire."

"no promises."

they stepped into the venue—glittering chandeliers, champagne towers, and people wearing more money than most made in a year. typical stark affair.

"dr. richards!" someone called almost immediately.

reed winced. "there it is. the investor vortex."

"godspeed," johnny said with a lazy salute as reed was swallowed up by handshakes and finance talk.

johnny veered off toward the bar.

he didn’t need to drink—but he wanted one. something smooth. something to keep his hands busy. he leaned against the bar, ordering a whiskey neat, and scanned the room while the bartender poured.

"hey, aren’t you—?"

he glanced sideways. two women passing by gave him warm, flirtatious smiles.

"you still look good, hothead," one of them said, clearly recognizing him.

"thanks," he replied easily, lifting his glass in their direction. the smile he gave was polite, but brief. no invitation. no follow-up. just a quiet nod before turning his gaze back toward the crowd.

he sipped slowly. let the burn settle in his chest.

"look at you," came a voice behind him. smug, smooth, and unmistakably tony stark. "hiding by the bar like a man twice your age. what happened, johnny boy? used to be the life of the party."

johnny didn’t even turn around. "and you used to have humility."

"mm. can’t miss what you never had." tony slid into the empty spot beside him at the bar, gesturing for a drink. "you look like someone kicked your puppy. or told you the open bar’s running dry."

"maybe i’m just not interested in playing dress-up for your stockholders."

tony smirked. "funny. i thought you'd be right at home—cameras, cocktails, too much cologne."

"i don’t do the circus anymore."

"shame. you were always one of the best acts."

johnny finally turned his head, meeting tony’s gaze directly. "what do you want, stark?"

"nothing. just admiring the rare sight of johnny storm brooding. almost didn’t recognize you without fireworks shooting out your hands."

"almost didn’t recognize you without a bottle of champagne and two models."

tony laughed. "you wound me."

"not yet."

"—gentlemen," reed interrupted, finally prying himself away from a conversation with someone in a three-piece suit and too many opinions. "i see we're playing nice?"

"define nice," johnny muttered, taking another drink.

"oh, you know us," tony said, clapping a hand on reed’s shoulder. "just old friends catching up on our unresolved issues."

"ah. healthy."

before reed could redirect the conversation, a voice called out from behind—soft, familiar, and enough to make johnny’s grip on his glass freeze for just a second.

"tony?"

they turned.

and there she was.

y/n

her walk was elegant, her dress a midnight blue that hugged her perfectly, and her expression unreadable as her gaze swept the trio.

johnny felt the hit in his gut before he could brace for it. like some ghost had suddenly taken shape again, flesh and memory and every bad decision he’d ever made with her in a room full of witnesses.

she stopped beside tony, sliding her hand into his. johnny watched the movement like it was a punch to the ribs.

"there you are," she said, voice light but strained beneath the polish.

tony, of course, turned toward the brothers like he was about to present a trophy.

"oh, right. almost forgot—you guys have history," he said, clearly enjoying this. "well... awkward history." he grinned, ignoring the flicker of warning in y/n’s eyes. "still, no hard feelings, right? everyone loves a redemption arc."

johnny’s jaw ticked, but he stayed silent.

reed, tense beside him, tried to cut through the tension. "it’s been a long time."

"feels like yesterday," tony said cheerfully. "anyway—i don’t think you’ve been formally introduced... again. this is my fiancée."

y/n’s eyes flicked to reed. "nice to see you, reed."

then to johnny and stayed. no smile. no words. just a long, locked moment.

johnny didn’t flinch. he met her stare with one of his own, cool and unreadable.

"congratulations," reed said, his voice breaking the stillness.

y/n blinked, then forced a small smile. "thank you."

but that smile faltered—just for a beat—when her eyes fell back on johnny.

and just like that, the room was too loud again.

it was tony who finally leaned in with a low chuckle. “wow, you two could bottle this tension and sell it as a limited-edition fragrance — ‘eau de ex.’

"tony," y/n murmured, warning.

and that’s when another voice cut in.

"y/n."

she turned slightly, instantly recognizing it. "daddy?"

her father approached with a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "may i borrow you for a moment?"

"we were just—"

"now."

tony let her go without a word.

reed looked like he wanted to step in, but johnny placed a hand on his arm. "don’t."

they watched as y/n was led away through the crowd, toward the side balcony.

the cold night air kissed her skin the moment she stepped outside. the door shut behind them.

"was that necessary?" y/n asked, crossing her arms.

her daddy gave her a look. "you stared at him, y/n. and not like you were mad. like you remembered."

"i did nothing wrong."

"you looked at him like you still care. like you forgot who’s standing next to you now. tony stark. that kind of look? it travels. and people notice."

y/n turned toward the city lights instead of answering.

he stepped closer. "you know what’s at stake here. this union—this marriage—is more than headlines. it’s stability. it’s power. stark industries and l/n global becoming one? you don’t throw that away for nostalgia. especially not for someone like him."

"someone like him?" she asked quietly.

"he’s reckless. self absorbed. inconsistent. you lived through that, remember? or have you rewritten history to make it prettier?"

y/n’s throat tightened. her voice came out flat. "i’m doing what you asked."

"then do it all the way."

he adjusted the cuffs of his suit. "fix your expression. go back in there. and be who we raised you to be."

the weight of her father's words sat heavy on her chest, pressing down like an iron vice. so, naturally, y/n did what any rational woman in an arranged marriage would do—she got absolutely plastered. 

it started with a couple of glasses of champagne. then a few shots of whiskey, which tony had explicitly told the bartender not to serve her. then, somehow, she ended up double-fisting martinis while giggling at a painting on the wall that she swore was "looking at her funny." 

tony, in the middle of an important conversation with some investors, glanced over just in time to see y/n climb onto the bar. 

"oh, for f—" 

"ladies and gentlemen!" she declared, dramatically throwing her arms out like she was about to perform on broadway. "i have an announcement!" 

the room quieted. tony pinched the bridge of his nose. reed, who had been watching from a distance, muttered, "oh boy," before taking a sip of his drink. 

"I—" y/n swayed slightly but managed to catch herself. "—am marrying the one and only tony freakin' stark!" 

a few scattered claps. a couple of amused chuckles. tony, however, was already moving through the crowd like a man on a mission. 

"and you know what?" she continued, ignoring the fact that her fiancé was closing in fast. "I— I used to think love was all about fate and passion and dramatic declarations in the rain." she waved a hand dramatically. "but NO. turns out, love is about capitalism and—" 

tony reached her just as she nearly lost her balance. he caught her waist, steadying her. "alright, sweetheart, let's get you down before you start a ted talk on marriage economics." 

y/n gasped, clutching his face. "baby," she whispered drunkenly. "you're so handsome up close." 

tony sighed. "i know." 

"you have really nice eyes." 

"i know." 

she patted his cheeks affectionately before her expression turned serious. "did you know i can do a backflip?" 

tony blinked. "okay, that's our cue to wrap this up. party's over, everyone!" 

a collective groan rang out as tony carefully lifted y/n off the bar. she immediately slumped against him, nuzzling into his neck. "mmm, you smell like money," she murmured, sighing happily. 

"thank you, sweetheart," tony deadpanned, shooting an apologetic look at the guests. "please, enjoy the gift bags on the way out." 

as the crowd slowly began dispersing, reed stepped up beside them, watching as tony practically carried y/n toward the exit. "you need help?" 

tony shot him a look. "do i look like i need help?" 

reed smirked. "she's your fiancée." 

tony groaned. "yeah, don't remind me." 

"BABY, CAN WE GET PIZZA?!" 

tony sighed. "yeah, yeah, let's get you some carbs before you start singing again."

—

reed was already by sue's side, his attention focused on his very pregnant wife, who was settled comfortably on the couch while ben fussed over her. 

johnny, on the other hand, was not in the mood for a peaceful reunion. 

"y’know what would've been great?" he announced, throwing his hands up. "a little heads-up! maybe a text, a ‘hey johnny, thanks for being a good lil brother and going with reed oh! by the way, y/n's engaged to tony stark!’ " 

ben barely looked up from fluffing one of sue's pillows. "huh. must've slipped our minds." 

johnny scoffed. "slipped your minds? you guys didn't think i'd wanna know?!" 

reed, who had his hand resting on sue's belly, monitoring the baby's movements, sighed. "It's not exactly our job to keep you updated on her love life, johnny." 

johnny turned to sue, the only one in the room he expected to actually understand why this was a big deal. "and you? you knew, didn't you?" 

sue gave him a knowing look. "of course, I knew." 

johnny threw his hands up again. "unbelievable! and you didn't think to tell me?" 

sue crossed her arms over her bump, her expression unimpressed. "what would it have changed, johnny? you seeing her again was inevitable."  johnny exhaled sharply, pacing the room. "you guys are acting like this isn't a big deal! it's tony stark! mr. billionaire playboy—" 

"emphasis on billionaire," ben muttered, earning a glare from johnny. 

sue, however, wasn't nearly as dismissive as the others. she shifted slightly, looking at reed before settling her gaze on johnny. "i don't think it's a good idea." 

that made johnny stop. his brows furrowed. "wait... you don't approve?" 

sue shook her head. "not even a little." 

ben let out a low chuckle. "here we go..." 

sue ignored him. "tony's a lot of things, johnny. smart, successful, charming—but i don't think he's what she needs." 

johnny felt an odd mix of relief and frustration. "then why didn't you say anything?" 

sue sighed. "because she's a grown woman. she's not going to listen to me, and she sure as hell wouldn't listen to you." 

johnny ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "this is insane." 

reed, ever the level-headed one, leaned against the counter. "johnny, whether you like it or not, she's moved on. and tony... well, he doesn't exactly lose." 

johnny clenched his jaw. "yeah? well, neither do I." 

sue sighed, rubbing her temples as johnny paced back and forth like a caged animal. "look, johnny, I know this is throwing you for a loop, but don't embarrass yourself trying to put something together from ashes." 

johnny stopped mid-step, turning to her with an incredulous look. "ashes?" sue met his gaze, calm but firm. "yes. you burned it, johnny. there's nothing left to fix." 

johnny clenched his jaw, running a hand down his face. "you don't know that." sue arched a brow. "i do. because if she wanted you, she would've found you by now. Instead, she's with tony." 

johnny scoffed, crossing his arms. "and you just said you don't trust stark." 

"i don't," sue admitted. "but that doesn't change the fact that she chose him." 

silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. johnny looked away, jaw tightening as he processed her words. he wanted to argue, to say something—anything—that made this all make sense. but deep down, he knew sue wasn't wrong.  

reed, sensing the tension, finally spoke up. "johnny, maybe you should just let this go." 

ben snorted. "like that's ever been his strong suit." 

johnny shot him a glare before looking back at sue. "i just... i need to talk to her." his voice was quieter now, less defensive, more raw. "I need to know." 

sue exhaled slowly, standing up and stepping closer to him. "if you do, make sure it's not just for your ego," she said, softer now. "and don't expect her to be waiting for you." 

johnny swallowed hard but nodded. he wasn't sure if he was ready for the answer. but one thing was certain—he had to find out.

[hoetachi]

“why you putting a question mark where she put a period at” — from a random wattpad book

[hoetachi]

just joined the love island chat ik im late asf and so far amaya can really kick rocks bro…

[hoetachi]

y’all heard about coryxkenshin…..

[decayingearf]

fuck with a pro

✗ warnings: mostly none ( sfw minus kissing ), childhood friend trope, a lil tension wc: 540

synopsis: once hearing about a new fighter in philly, you go check it out realizing its an old friend.

(a/n: i re-wrote this a thousand times. listen to this with “Persian rugs “ by party next door!)

you had just got in touch with your childhood friend adonis. he was currently being trained by the rocky balboa. one of the best fighters for years.

the previous training session was intense to say the least. hell, you were sore just watching.

luckily, you guys had made its back to rocky’s house and were about to sleep.

“you can have my room, if you want” donnie told with an nonchalant expression , “no no, you have your room, ill sleep on the couch” you shrugged before the elder man spoke up. “why you two don’t just share the bed?” you could see adonis get flustered a bit.

“i mean, if yall are comfortable—if not don’t listen to me” he clarified shrugging before your friends eyes met yours.

woah, this couldn’tve been the adonis you became friends with all those years ago.

“it’s fine with me” he shrugged and just for a second you could see his admiring gaze. “yeah” you nodded heading towards the boys room.

you seen the bed and how tight it might’ve been had both of you laid comfortably in it. without anymore second guessing, you removed your shoes and laid in the bed. not too long after, adonis walked in and stared you down; mostly in shock.

“what?” you asked looking at him through your lashes, “i didn’t say nothing” he shrugged before pulling off his shirt, tossing it aside and laying beside you.

any other night you would’ve been dead tired. tonight though, you both were wide awake..in more ways than one.

you huffed throwing the covers off of you.

“can’t sleep either, huh?”

“if i could i wouldn’t be up” you snapped causing adonis to turn and face you “what’s your problem?” the man asked before you looked up at him seeing his raised eyebrows.

“..just tired i guess” “that ain’t no reason to be mad at me, fix that.” he told jokingly before closing his eyes, not knowing the affect it had on you. “shut up” you rolled your eyes pulling the cover away from him. he opened his eyes and scoffed seeing your fake sleep expression with the stifled smile.

everything settled for a second before donnie squeezed your side, just enough to sting.

“ow! jackass” you exclaimed slapping his arm. he laughed then gently pushed you, “quit hittin’ me” the man spoke shadow boxing you. “quit fake hitting me, then!” you said in an irritated tone.

“or what?” donnie kissed his teeth as if calling your bluff.

time passed like licks and somehow you two ended up all over each other.

donnie kissed you as he did his teeth earlier. his grips now more affectionate than playful. his lips found their way to your neck as you huffed impatiently.

the man brought his hand up to your shoulder, about to slide your shirt off. of course that was before the older man from earlier appeared in the doorway.

“my bad, kid—i, i didn’t see nothing” his gruff voice assured, which of course was a lie. you and adonis separated after being caught. both still wide eyed and breathless.

“i was gonna say, no training tomorrow—bad weather.” he finished before walking out and shutting the door.

now you really couldn’t sleep.

tags: @ohshesamonet, @heuhanenani, @moqnqr, @loveabledovee, @thecoloredpages, @thequeenkhlo, @anotherdayof-sun, @sharpaysbestfriend, @queenofklonnie22, @heartgirllover, @jioats, @honggihwa, @xxalysse, @vile-harlot, @cremeful, @rios-st4rs !

[hoetachi]

Omg girl I forgot to tell you but I got the JoJo star tattooed yesterday

OMGGGG THAT LOOKS SO GOOD!!

[hoetachi]

OMFG THE NEW SUPERMAN IS SO FINE

[hoetachi]

Your account is so pretty, you're so cool, and I love your writing!!! ♡٩(❛ัᴗ❛ั ๑ )(๑˃̶͈̀∇˂̶͈́)و⁾⁾˚*

GIRLIE YOUR THEME IS MY AESTHETIC DREAM AND YOUR STORIES ARE TOO TEAAAAA