ihawtblackppl ❤️

black asf! 🙌🏾 • big 22! ♏️

[hopefulandromantic]

HopefulandRomantic's Masterlist!

Hi! If you're reading this, thank you for being interested. I write when I get the urge, or whenever something or someone has interested me so much that I have to get it off my chest. I am in no way a professional. I learn as I go, so I appreciate both patience and constructive criticism!

No -ists, -isms, or -phobias allowed. Please. I don't have the patience, and never will.

Sinners:

Elijah "Smoke" Moore

Good Neighbor (smut): 1 & 2

Elias "Stack" Moore

Another Night (smut): 1 & 2

Every single like, comment, reblog, and silent read is heavily appreciated! 🥰

[brownsugarletters]

Out of Bounds

Modern AU Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Black!Reader

“Y’know her uncle gon’ kill you, right?” Stack dragged the words out teasingly, but the warning was real. “You betta keep yo hand out that cookie jar, bruh. I’m f'real. That man don’t play about that girl.”

At this, Smoke shot Stack a warning glare that said leave it be.

“Ain’t nobody thinkin’ ‘bout that ‘lil girl.”

“She don’t look so little to me.”

SYNOPSIS: Smoke meets his best friend’s niece and is deeply infatuated from jump. Problem is— reader is strictly off limits.

CONTENT: fluff, FILTHY smut, 18+, unprotected sex, 12-year age gap (38 and 26), use of n-word, some praising degradation, light choking if you squint?, lots of descriptive dirty talk, descriptions of female anatomy, super sweet aftercare, it's just nasty y'all idk

Song Inspo: The Need To Know x Wale & SZA

Word Count: 8,597

Author's note: Disclaimer, reader is 26. She is a grown ass woman. This is my first papa Smoke fic, I hope y'all love it 😝 very lightly proof read sorry in advance for mistakes 😬

Smoke had known about you for years. Every time your uncle, Malcolm, talked about you, he used that distinct overprotective tone he got whenever he was talking about business or something important to him. 

“My niece doin’ real good in school.”

“I gotta go check on my niece this weekend.”

Or, when he thought one of his homeboys was asking about you just a little too much.

“Keep playin’ with my niece nigga, I’ma put you in the ICU.” 

And shortly thereafter, the man’s questions came to a cold stop.

The way he talked about you always made Smoke think you were very young for some reason. Maybe early twenties at most, somebody still figuring life out. Your uncle was deeply protective over his family, and only people who he really trusted ever got to come around them. 

When your uncle finally said, “Come by for dinner Sunday, I want you to meet her.” Smoke expected a kid. He was 38 himself, so anyone younger than 25 was a youngin to him. You can imagine his surprise when he actually met you.

That Sunday, you opened the door looking every bit of 26. You were grown and confident. Soft brown skin, a real pretty face, the kind of natural beauty that stood out in a room. You had a place of your own and a solid career with room for growth. Quickly, Smoke gathered that you were extremely intelligent. When you’d smiled at him and extended your hand to him without a trace of insecurity or shyness, something in Smoke’s chest did a two-step. And that was not something that happened often.

“So…you’re the famous niece I keep hearin’ about?” He asked, voice carefully neutral. He held on to your hand for a few seconds longer than necessary without noticing it. Then you laughed. It was soft and warm, completely unguarded.

“So I’ve been told… hopefully all good things.” 

Your uncle always spoke about you highly. In fact, now that Smoke was thinking about it— the man had never said anything negative about you at all. You were the apple of his eye. But he hadn’t said anything that prepared him for the woman standing in front of him now.

All throughout dinner Smoke couldn’t stop himself from staring. The way you talked real soft and annunciated every word. The way you listened intensely to understand before responding, all of it was so intriguing to him. He even found himself chucking at the sharp little comments you made when joning on your uncle. You were not a kid. You were a grown woman who happened to be the most important person in his best friend’s life. The realization sat wrong and heavy in Smoke’s gut for the rest of the night.

He left early.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next week, your uncle called Smoke on Saturday morning like he had nothing better to do.

“Come help me mount this t.v. real quick. Niece already over there waitin’ on us.” 

At being volun-told at 9 a.m., Smoke nearly told Marcus where he could go and hung up before he was reminded of that nagging feeling it had. It was the kind of feeling you get when you’re about to get to the good part of a book and you’re forced to put it down. That was the feeling Smoke had been having ever since he left Sunday dinner early. Instead of declining, Smoke heard himself saying he would be there in 40.

By the time Smoke pulled up, your front door was open, and your voice was pouring through it, loud and bossy. Nothing like the soft-spoken woman he’d met just a week ago. 

“Uh-uh, make sure you got that side good! I don’t need my walls scraped up ‘cause you rushin’.”

When Smoke stepped through the threshold, you were barefoot in the living room, hair pulled away from your face and wearing little gray shorts and a white tank top. Every time you took a step, your hips rolled sensually and your breasts bounced slightly, nipples poking through the thin fabric. You were gesturing and pointing around your living room like you were directing an orchestra. 

“If y’all put it on that side the glare from the sun gon’ mess up the picture. I’m tellin’ you, it’s gotta go on this side.” Your uncle shook his head, half annoyed, half amused at his little niece bossing up. 

“You hear this? Just grown as she wanna be.”

Smoke set his keys down quietly and you turned at the sound. The smile you gave him was so easy and endearing that he found himself returning a small one and giving you a nod. And Smoke did not smile often, if at all.

“Perfect timing, Smoke. My uncle thinks he know better than the person that actually lives here.” 

“Know enough to know you too bossy for your own good.” He grumbled, shifting the stand to your requested side of the living room. Your laugh filled the room, and you dropped down, legs crossed, to start taking apart the old stand. The little shorts you wore rode up high on your thighs and your skin looked warm and smooth under the morning light. 

The next hour was quiet torture for Smoke.

Every time you bent forward to hand your uncle or Smoke a tool, the tank top pulled taught across your breasts and rose slightly, exposing the soft skin of your tummy. When you sat back and huffed in frustration while you tried to make sense of the instructions, Smoke watched the way you pushed stray pieces of your messy bun out of your face. And whenever you teased your uncle— “If it’s lopsided, I’m givin’ you a bad review on your uncle skills”— your voice remained light, teasing, never crossing any lines. Just comfortable and familiar. 

She don’t even know what she doin’ to me. Just sittin’ there laughin’, talkin’ all soft, lookin’ innocent… and I’m over here fightin’ for my life.

He barely spoke. Smoke kept his eyes on his work like that was the only thing keeping his mind from wandering. Still, his gaze kept drifting over to you. He watched the way your hips spread wide when you sat back on your heels and the way your small, manicured hands moved dramatically while you spoke. He tutted to himself quietly, so damn cute.

At one point you looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. The mischievous smile on your lips let him know you were about to get on him.

“You don’t talk much, huh?”

“Say what I need to. Just tryna make sure this thing don’t fall on nobody.” He replied simply, eyes flicking up to yours and staying there for a moment before drifting down to the soft curve of your mouth. His thoughts betrayed him,

You a damn lie. You thinkin’ ‘bout how soft them thighs look. What they’d look like wrapped around your head...Stop.

You hummed in acknowledgment, but you never looked away. The knowing look stayed in your eyes a second too long, and Smoke noticed.

When the stand was finally up and the tv was mounted, your uncle patted Smoke on the back and headed into the kitchen for water. You stayed in the living room, sitting on the floor with your legs stretched out while you scrolled on your phone. 

The house started to feel too quiet with just the two of you, so Smoke grabbed his keys before he said anything stupid. 

“I’ma head out”

You looked up from your phone with a small frown. 

“Already? We were just about to go out to get somethin’ to eat.”

Smoke wanted to stay. He really did. But he didn’t trust himself. So, he politely declined and said goodbye to your uncle. He gave you— and those pretty brown thighs— one more glance before he headed out and closed the door behind him. 

Later that night Smoke’s place was silent. Nothing but the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional creak or groan from the house settling. Smoke laid in the middle of his bed, staring at nothing in particular. He sighed in frustration and rubbed his hands down his face. He was replaying the day’s events and desperately trying to scrub the image of you from his memory to no avail. This was evident in the dull, persistent throb between his legs that he’d been trying to ignore ever since he saw you in those little shorts.

That’s his niece. Closest thing he got to a daughter. You sittin’ over here hard over a girl you ain’t even supposed to be lookin’ at. Get it the fuck together.

He sat like that for a long while before he willed himself to sleep.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Some days later, your uncle was having a cookout. The guys were playing Spades, so he told Smoke to come by. The gathering was in full swing by the time Smoke got there. Smooth R&B wrapped around the yard and the smell of charcoal and grilled meat was thick in the air. He spotted you before anyone else. You were sitting on the edge of a picnic table wearing denim shorts and a strapless top, legs swinging and a drink in hand, talking to some of your girlfriends. 

Smoke grabbed a drink and planted himself near the fence. Close enough to the traffic of the party to be polite, but far enough to keep to himself. 

Maybe it was a habit from his time being enlisted in the army, or just a habit from growing up where he did, but Smoke noticed everything and everyone. And that was why he noticed the exact moment that you caught the attention of a guy from the neighborhood. He was early 40’s, nice enough looking, but way too comfortable. Smoke watched the man’s ego draw his shoulders back in confidence before he made his way over to you. First it was “lemme get you another drink”. Then it was him hovering awkwardly just behind your shoulder while you spoke to your friends.

Smoke watched, jaw tight and plastic cup starting to give under the force of his clenching fingers. He knew he had no right to feel possessive over a woman he barely knew, but he had no say in the matter. His eyes stayed glued, making sure the man didn’t cross any overt boundaries. Your uncle saw it too. 

At first, Uncle Malcolm didn’t say anything. Just kept flipping meat, listening to the conversation around him. Every few moments, his looked over with a calm measuring look, one that surely meant he was letting a man dig his own hole. Smoke recognized the look quickly. It was the same look your uncle had given their friend who kept asking about you before he had threatened to put him in the ICU.

Then, you reflexively flinched and stepped away when the man got just a little too close from behind and his breath brushed your ear. Smoke was already moving before his brain caught up, but he was stopped by your uncle planting a firm hand on his chest.

“I got it Smoke, good lookin’ out.” 

Smoke forced himself to be still as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. Your uncle made his way over to you in three quick steps. He didn’t raise his voice or make a scene. He simply stepped between you and the man so smoothly that it almost looked friendly. 

“You gettin’ too close for my niece’s liking.”

“Oh, my bad man. I just—”

“You was just keepin’ yo hands to yo self, right?” Then your uncle looked over at you with a look that silently said, “you good?”. You nodded, already waving it off with a small smile. The man had no idea how lucky he had just gotten. You’d called your uncle off and spared the man two missing teeth. He nodded once simply and walked back to the grill like nothing had happened. The man took the hint. Visibly shaken he wandered over to the cooler for a drink. Malcolm picked up the tongs and resumed grilling, unphased. Smoke saw all of it and realized quickly that could be him.

He saw the way your uncle’s expression had become flat and cold and how fast he’d delivered the message. No yelling or scene, just quiet authority and the willingness to cause serious harm. These were traits that he himself possessed, and it was one of the reasons he had taken such a liking to your uncle. After all, birds of a feather flocked together. Smoke understood with perfect clarity that if that energy ever turned on him, there would be no explaining or second chances. 

Later, when you walked past him on the way to the cooler, your ass subtly brushed his groin. It was a brief touch and gone in a second. Smoke couldn’t figure out if it was intentional or not, that was until you looked up at him and gave him a small smile. He kept his eyes on the fence for the rest of the afternoon and didn’t look at you again. Didn’t trust himself to.

You better stay the fuck away from that girl. For real this time.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Later that evening, the fight was on the big screen in your uncle’s living room. The whole house smelled like wings and the blunt that was in rotation. Your uncle was in his usual spot, reclined back. Stack was in the kitchen making a plate, and Smoke sat on one end of the long couch, quiet like he always was— and far away from you. You and your girlfriend were spread out on the floor, chattering away about something that had nothing to do with the fight.

Somewhere around the third round, Smoke dropped his phone and it slid under the coffee table.

“I’ll get it.”

You were already moving before anyone else could. You leaned forward, then dropped lower on your hands and knees to be able to reach it. The little shorts you had on pulled tight across your ass with the movement and the fabric rode up the backs of your thighs. Soft, brown skin caught the dim glow of the t.v. As you stretched further, the hem of your shorts crept higher until the lower curve of each cheek was exposed and the soft skin of your inner thighs spread a little. Smoke was frozen in place. The view hit him right between the legs with a low pulsing throb.

All he could see was that same position— except with you bent over for real. Shorts pushed to the side, back arched and thighs open. He imagined himself behind you with one hand fisted in your hair and the other gripping your hip as he sank into you slow and deep. He could almost hear the sound you’d make if he went just a little too deep too fast. He wondered if you would give him a soft, cracked moan or a high and shaky whine when he bottomed out and stayed there. His dick twitched hard in his jeans, and he shifted in his seat trying to ignore it. For a long second he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way your soft thighs looked spread open like that.

Stack’s voice cut straight through the fantasy, sharp like a blade and low and close to his ear.

“Nigga.”

Smoke blinked hard and looked away quickly as heat spread across the back of his neck. You sat up just a second later, phone in hand. You held it out to him with a smile. He made sure not to touch you unnecessarily as he took it from you. He offered a gruff, “preciate it” before turning his attention right back to the fight. 

But he was caught. Stack was still watching the scene play out, and he was totally amused. Somebody had finally tickled Smoke’s fancy. It wasn’t often that someone piqued his interest to the point where he gawked like that. A wicked grin was already making its way across his brother’s face. He waited until you had settled back into your spot and no one was watching before he spoke again.

“You realll quiet tonight, cat got yo tongue?”

Smoke’s jaw tensed and he avoided his twin's eye contact, keeping his eyes trained on the television. He already knew from the tone in his voice, he was gonna start his shit.

“I’m always quiet, ‘Lias.”

“Nah,” Stack kept his voice low and nudged his brother with his elbow, still grinning. “This different. This the type of quiet a man get when he lookin’ at somethin’ he ain’t got no business tendin’ to.” 

Smoke didn’t answer this time. He just took a slow sip of his beer. Stack chuckled quietly and shook his head.

“Y’know her uncle gon’ kill you, right?” He dragged the words out teasingly, but the warning was real. “You betta keep yo hand out that cookie jar, bruh. I’m f'real. That man don’t play about that girl.”

At this, Smoke shot Stack a warning glare that said leave it be.

“Ain’t nobody thinkin’ ‘bout that ‘lil girl.”

“She don’t look so little to me.” Stack chuckled again but raised his hands in defense when Smoke’s head snapped toward him, hot defensiveness bubbling to the surface. “Aight, I’ma leave it. Just don’t come cryin’ to me when her uncle want yo head on a silver platter. I warned you.”

Smoke didn’t answer. But for the rest of the night his brother’s words sat heavy in his chest— and so did the image of you bent over under that table.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Once night settled and everyone left, you and your best friend were sitting in your car outside your place. She turned the music down and turned to you fully, lifting a leg and tucking it under herself like she always did when she got ready to gossip. 

“Girl.”

You raised an eyebrow, ready to hear whatever off the wall thing she was gonna tell you.

“What?”

“You don’t see how your uncle’s friend been lookin’ at you?” Your eyebrows knitted in confusion; you had no idea what she was talking about. 

“Who? Smoke or Stack?”

“Smoke girl, the real quiet one, quit playin’!” You rolled your eyes immediately and laughed out loud.

“Smoke? Girl, that man is grown as hell. He ain’t lookin’ at me. Have you seen some of the girls that work in his club? It’s big booty central up in there.” Your friend was already shaking her head fervently.

“Uh-uh.  No. He was watchin’ that ass switch the whole time you was bent over gettin’ his phone. I saw him. He was lookin’ at you like he wanted to bend you over his damn self.”

The laugh died in your throat and your joking demeanor faded when you realized she was serious. 

“I’m f’real, girl. That man wants you. Bad. And he lookin’ at you like he knows he ain’t supposed to.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It was a regular Thursday and Smoke was just finishing up some business at the club when his phone rang. He answered without looking but the voice that came through the receiver stopped him cold in his tracks. 

“Hey… you busy?” You asked sheepishly. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, thinking it must be something serious for you to have called him.

“Nothin’ serious. I just… the smoke detector has been beeping all day and it’s driving me nuts. I’m trying to do something for work, and it keeps distracting me. I got the batteries, but I can’t reach the damn thing.” 

Something about the tinge of frustration in your voice and the fact that you called him—not your uncle or one of your little friends, him— tugged at his heart strings. It wasn’t just attraction this time. Now, it was the quiet, unexpected weight of being needed by you. He couldn’t put a name to it, but it sat warm and dangerous in his chest like a badge of honor.

Smoke drummed his fingers against his steering wheel, trying to talk himself out of going over to your place. When he couldn’t think of a reason good enough to turn you down, he turned the engine and headed toward your place. 

Twenty-five minutes later he was knocking on your door, ladder in hand and ready to rescue you. The door opened and there you were, wearing a little spaghetti-strap bodycon dress that hugged all your curves just right and fell gracefully around your ankles, toes perfectly manicured. Bare feet, hair pulled up messily, no makeup. So simple but it landed heavy on Smoke. His eyes dragged over exposed shoulders and down to your hips. The hungry look he gave you made your tummy flip as you stepped to the side to let him in. He couldn’t help but think how pretty a chain with his name on it would look resting against your collar bones.

“Hey,” You exhaled. “Thanks so much for coming. I feel so dumb for calling, but it’s too high up for me. I cannot have this thing beeping incessantly in the back of my conference calls.” 

Smoke chuckled to himself quietly at your use of the word “incessant”. You could’ve just said non-stop, but you always found a way to make the simplest thing sound extraordinary. 

“It’s nothin’. I got it.” He stepped inside and instantly felt comfortable as the smell of your apartment invaded his senses. It smelled like your usual candle and whatever dessert you must have been baking. Too intimate and a little too quiet. 

You led him to your bedroom and pointed up at the fixture like it had personally offended you. Smoke opened his small ladder and climbed up. You left him alone and wandered into the kitchen. He had the batteries changed within 5 minutes, simple and easy. When he stepped down, he finally looked around. Your bed was half made like you’d pulled the sheets up in a hurry and you had a purple duvet on it. 

Damn, that’s a lot of pillows.

He thought to himself. On your dresser was a framed photo of you and your best friend, the girl he’d met on fight night. Smoke drifted closer when he noticed you had books lining your nightstand. Some of them were philosophical, titles he recognized. Others looked like dystopian novels that were half finished, indicated by random bookmarks. 

He was turning to leave when his eyes landed on it. Strewn near one of your pillows was a rose toy. Smoke swallowed hard. It was clear that you hadn’t noticed it— and that it had recently been in use. Smoke stood frozen for a moment, his thoughts betraying him. 

Instantly, a mirage appeared of you in the center of the bed, thighs spread wide and one hand between them. He pictured your pretty mouth falling open on broken moans as you arched your back and rolled your hips closer to your hand. A violent stir in Smoke’s pants snapped him out of his daydream. He shook his head as if he was trying to clear the filthy thoughts before folding his ladder and quickly exiting the room.

When he made his way back to the kitchen to tell you the job was done, you were standing near the counter scrolling on your phone. Sitting on the island in front of an empty stool was a thick slice of chocolate cake and a tall glass of ice water. You looked up and met his eyes when he entered the room. Your face lit up as you gestured to the plate.

“I just frosted it. It’s still a little warm, try it and let me know how it is? It’s a new recipe.”

Smoke couldn’t bring himself to decline. One because you just looked so damn cute with that little pleased smile on your face, and two because he’d been smelling that cake since he walked through the door. He hesitated just long enough for you to take it as a yes. You rounded the counter and patted the stool.

Smoke sat his ladder down and slowly made his way over to you. He lifted his eyebrows in surprise when he looked down at the plate.

“That’s a big ass slice of cake. You gon’ share it with me?” he asked, silently walking over to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.

“Only if you insist.” You said excitedly, pulling a second spoon from your kitchen drawer. Smoke sat down at the counter and watched with amusement as you pulled out the spoon and some napkins. 

“So, you always this quiet or just don’t like talkin’ to me?” you asked as you settled across from him. Smoke’s fingers brushed yours as he took the spoon from you.

“I’m quiet with everybody.” He waited for you to take the first bite and found himself feeling warm and fuzzy when your eyes got wide and rolled back slightly. He followed suit and damn near had the same reaction. It was delicious. 

“Damn girl. ‘Sholl can bake.” He murmured, glancing up at you.

“Mhm.” You tilted your head in satisfaction. “My uncle talks about you like you some sort of legend. Said y’all have known each other since you were young. You always been the quiet one?” A ghost of a smile touched Smoke’s lips.

“Yeah.” He said simply.

“That’s crazy” you leaned over and took another bite of cake. “I feel like I’ve heard so much about you but I really don’t know you. You got brothers? Sisters? What you be doin’ when you not with my uncle or gettin’ drafted into smoke detector duty?”

Most people didn’t ask him questions like this. Usually, they would take one look at the unsmiling, silent— and subtly threatening— way he carried himself, and decided that he wasn’t the type you played 21 questions with. But you didn’t seem to notice, or if you did, you didn’t care. You kept going, small and fearless, like he was any regular man and not somebody half the city treaded easily around. Smoke found himself amused instead of annoyed by the tirade of questions. He never realized you talked so much.

“I got a brother. My twin, you met him.”

You hummed in agreement as you remembered. 

“He’s loud.”

That, Smoke couldn’t deny. He nodded in agreement.

“Y’all so different. He talks enough for the both of y’all”

So do you Smoke thought to himself.

“You got a girl? You be goin’ out or is the club just business? What’s your favorite food? Do you even like cake, or you one of them “I don’t really do sweets” niggas?”

The last question pulled a real, low chuckle from him before he could stop it. The sound pleasantly surprised you and your eyes lit up with amusement. 

“Ohhhh” you pointed with the spoon with a smirk. “So, he does smile.”

Smoke looked away but the corner of his mouth was still tilted upward. The smile wasn’t anything like Stack’s cocky, arrogant grin. It was quieter. Warmer. It made him look younger and softened the lines of his face in a way that made something flutter low in your stomach. He was sexy in a genuine and rare way.

He answered your questions in the order you’d asked them— all except if he was currently seeing anyone. You were still in the middle of talking and making nosey, yet funny, observations about Smoke when a smear of frosting ended up just under your bottom lip. Smoke didn’t think before he acted. He reached out and brushed his thumb under your lip, wiping the frosting away. The contact was light but intimate. You went totally still when he brought the thumb to his own lips and licked the sweetness off. 

Your eyes dropped to lips, and his dropped to yours. Suddenly the air in the room felt thicker and you were much more aware of the scent of his cologne. And for one dangerous, dangerous second, he almost leaned in and closed the little bit of space between the two of you.

Then, the reality of his best friend— your uncle— slammed back into him like a door shutting. Smoke straightened up quickly and reached for his keys. 

“I should go. Thank you for the cake, and the hospitality.”

Your voice was quieter than intended when it came out.

“You don’t have to—”

“I do.” He was already moving toward the door before you could protest again. “I got the batteries changed. You should be good to go now.” He didn’t wait for you to walk him out. In fact, he left your place like something was chasing him.

For a full minute, Smoke sat in his truck with his hands tight on the wheel. He could still taste the frosting, and he could still see the way you’d looked at him. 

And— he could still envision you in the center of your bed, head lolled back in ecstasy as you touched yourself. 

Smoke pulled off so fast he nearly hit your trash can on his way out.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next time Smoke found himself at your place, it was because your uncle insisted on checking on you on their way back from handling some business at the club. 

“Swing by my niece spot real quick. I ain’t seen her in a couple days and I wanna check on her. Said she got plates ready for us too.”

Smoke’s hands tightened on the wheel but still, he gave a short nod and turned to make the familiar journey to your place. You opened the door, this time in little shorts and an oversized shirt that was falling off one of your shoulders. You smiled brightly at your uncle as you stepped aside to let him in. The one you gave Smoke was subtler, more private and holding the memory of your last encounter with him.

“I was just about to put on this new movie I rented, come on in.”

Your uncle kissed the top of your head as he walked past and started making himself at home. Smoke followed behind, slower. You made both their plates and made small talk as you served them. Of course, they tore it up in little time. After, it had turned into a movie night without anyone really deciding. 

You took one end of the couch, and Smoke took the other, careful to leave a respectable amount between the two of you. The movie played and flickered soft shadows over the living room. Within twenty minutes of it starting, your uncle was out like a light. 

Smoke kept trying not to look at you and failing. Every few minutes, his eyes drifted over to you. He watched the way you bit down on your bottom lip in anticipation before a jump scare came up. How your legs were crossed, accentuating the fullness of your hips. And every time he caught himself, he forced his gaze back to the t.v. 

Your uncle’s phone ringing disturbed the quiet. He jerked awake and fumbled around for it before answering with a rough voice. Whatever he heard on the other end made him sit up straighter, voice dropping into a sultry register. Most likely one of his many girlfriends.

“Aight, I’m on the way.” He stood, still half asleep and looked over at Smoke. “Can I borrow your car right quick? I gotta go see about something. I’ll bring it back when I’m done.”

Smoke’s stomach dropped. He should have said no or offered to just take your uncle himself. He should have made any excuse to keep him from being left alone with you for an indeterminate amount of time. But instead, he found himself handing over his keys. Your uncle clapped him on the shoulder and thanked him before heading out. 

“Preciate it. Look out for my niece, I’ll be back.”

The door shut behind him and the lock clicked, and suddenly Smoke had a feeling that he may have just made a terribly risky decision.

The movie played for another twenty minutes, and he stayed on his side of the couch, eyes locked on the t.v. like it was the only safe thing to look at. After a while you shifted and stretched your legs, and the soft side of your foot brushed his calf. It was a light touch, but it still sent a tingle up his leg.

“You good over there?”

“Yeah… just tryna understand this movie, I’m lost.” You smiled at him as if you heard more than he’d actually said. 

When the credits started rolling, you both reached for the remote at the same time. Your hands brushed, and instead of pulling away, Smoke slowly turned his palm upward. Waiting. You trailed your fingertips over it and his gaze stayed on your face the whole time. When you finally locked eyes with him, you were the one who leaned in.

The kiss started off hungry without testing or careful exploration. Just your mouth on his, soft and real sure. It was the type of kiss you could tell you’d both been thinking about.

A low sound rumbled from Smoke’s chest and he kissed back harder, one hand already sliding up to the back of your neck. Before he knew it, you were climbing into his lap, backs of your thighs bracketing his like you were meant to be there. He could already feel the heat coming from you through your shorts. He broke the kiss first, chest heaving.

“Yo uncle gon’ kill me and smile in the mugshot, girl. You know he don’t want nobody sniffin’ ‘round you… especially not his best friend who’s the same age as him.”

Your expression was unchanged, and you didn’t get off him. You just stared at him, eyes dark with lust and lips already a little swollen. Smoke’s hands settled comfortably on your hips and his thumbs brushed the soft skin under the hem of your shirt.

“You sure you want this? ‘Cause once we start, ain’t no takin’ it back. And once I’m inside you… I ain’t pullin’ out till it’s messy. You never been with a grown man like me before. It’s gon’ feel different.”

You rolled your eyes fondly and climbed off him. Laying back against the couch cushions, you parted your thighs for him, just enough for him to be able to tell you weren’t wearing panties.

And in that moment— Smoke’s restraint gave in. He dropped to his knees and turned you by your hips so you were facing him. Easily, he dragged your panties and those little shorts down to your ankles. He gently parted your thighs so that you were fully exposed to him and just looked for a second. Arousal was already dripping from your slightly parted lips and Smoke cooed at the sight.

“Even prettier than I thought.” He murmured. When he put his mouth on you, it was unlike anything you’d experienced before. He licked you open with the flat of his tongue and sucked your clit between his lips with steady pressure. When a surprise gasp punched from your chest, he eased in his middle and ring fingers. Stretching you slow and savoring the soft sound your pussy made as it opened up for him. The wet sounds that commenced were immediate and nasty.

Continuously, he curled his fingers against that soft ridge inside you that made your stomach jump. Your back arched hard and a high, broken sound left your throat. He didn’t ease the pressure when your thighs started trembling.

“Look so pretty spread open f’me like this.”

The vibrations from his voice involuntarily made your thighs close around his head. Soft shocked whimpers kept spilling from your lips while he ate you like he had all day and stroked his fingers deep. Spit and your cream mixed together until his lips and chin were shiny with it. He kept up that steady rhythm until your tummy clenched and a long, shaky cry tore form you. Your walls clamped down around his fingers in hard, rhythmic pulses and cream and slick trailed down his wrist. A warm rush flooded your core as the orgasm rolled through you in heavy waves. Smoke kept licking you slowly through every single one, only slowing when your thighs shook too hard and you tried to close your legs.

Only then did he kiss his way up your body, pushing up your shirt as he went. When he finally settled between your thighs, he latched his mouth to your areola. A surprised gasp escaped you and your hands flew to his shoulders. He suckled gently at your nipple while he rubbed the fat head of his dick through your folds, and the mess he’d just made of you. Your pussy clenched around nothing like it needed to be filled again from the sensation. He gave your other breast the same treatment— hot, wet, and slow, before returning to your lips.

“Breathe for me” he watched your face as he started to push past your entrance. “Pretty lil pussy ‘bout to get stuffed full. You gon’ take it for me?” His lips brushed yours before pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. You nodded and stuttered out a soft yes as he slowly stretched you, inch by inch. It was deep and overwhelming in a way that made you both want to push him away and pull him closer. When your thighs tried to close on instinct, he caught the backs of your knees and pinned them open against the couch, keeping you spread while he sank deeper.

“Uh-uh. Keep these pretty thighs open for me. Wanna feel every bit of this soft lil pussy takin’ me.”

He bottomed out with a low groan, hips flush to yours. The pressure sat heavy and deep in your stomach, and your mouth fell open on a quiet overwhelmed sound. Your walls kept fluttering around him helplessly and cream was already collecting around the base of his dick, dripping between your cheeks and down to the couch.

His strokes started off slow, letting you feel the ridge of his tip and every vein. Soft sounds kept leaving your throat every time he bottomed out, and your eyes went glassy while your fingers dug into his biceps.

He kept you pinned open for him like that and the wet sounds of your pussy taking him filled the quiet apartment. Your second orgasm built slower this time, and it was drawn out by him dragging the head of his dick over that sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again.

“There it is… look how pretty you look takin’ all this dick. Already cryin' for me and creamin' down my balls. You never had it this deep before, have you?” When the coil in your belly finally snapped, your back arched hard and a loud choked cry came from you. He fucked you through every wave until you were a trembling mess under him, still stuffed full and thighs shiny with the mess he made you make. You were still shaking when the words left your mouth.

“Lemme get on my knees for you.”

Smoke went still and the image slammed into him without warning. The way you looked under the table that day reaching for his phone. Shorts lifting enough for him to make out the curve of your bare ass and soft brown thighs spread. He had pictured this exact position more times than he cared to admit. Quickly, he obliged.

He gently pulled out and turned you on your stomach before tugging your hips up. Your ass was high and your chest was flush to the couch. One hand spanned the small of your back to keep your arch deep while the other wrapped around the base of his dick. He gently nudged your clit with the thick head before pushing back in slowly.

“You sure? 'S gon’ feel real full.” 

When you only pushed back toward him, he sank into you in one slow, heavy thrust and filled you to the hilt. A high, shaky sound left your lips and it was music to Smoke’s ears. Just like he’d imagined. He let out a low, satisfied moan as his hands settled on your hips. He started stroking into you deep, angling in a way that made your stomach jump. The depth started to overwhelm you and your hips twitched forward on instinct trying to ease away. A soft, panicked whimper slipped from you. Smoke felt it immediately.

“Look at you, baby. Makin’ a mess for me already. Look so fuckin’ pretty like this….Stop runnin’ from me. This what you wanted, right?” When you didn’t answer fast enough, his hand came down in a light stinging spank across your right cheek. “Answer me when I talk to you baby”

A startled gasp left your throat and you pushed back to take him deeper.

“Y-yes. I wanted it ju-Ah! Just like this” you whimpered out helplessly. His palm gently rubbed the cheek, massaging away the sting.

“Good girl… keep that arch f’me just like that and take this dick real deep.” His other hand came up and fisted gently in your hair just enough to pull you back onto his dick. He left another spank on your ass as he buried himself deep, grinding the thick head of his dick against that swollen spot deep inside you in slow deliberate circles. A thin string of saliva left his lips and landed right where he was stretching you open. The warm sensation forced a moan from you and you arched deeper for him.

“S-so good Smoke. Thank you for fucking me like this. I love it so m-much.”

Your fingers clenched the cushions under you as he kept stroking. Smoke’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He never imagined you’d talk to him so filthy, and he loved it. He released the fist in your hair and wrapped both arms around your waist. He pulled you up and back until you were sitting fully on his thighs, spine flush against his broad sweaty chest.

The new position kept him buried deep inside you. You kept fluttering around his length as he bullied himself into your swollen, oversensitive walls. Your thighs were trembling on either side of his and the sweat made everything slippery and hot. Soft, shaky whimpers kept spilling out of you as he stayed deep.

One large hand splayed low on your belly, pressing gently and increasing the pressure in your tummy so you could feel every inch of him. The other hand came up and his fingers wrapped lightly, but possessively, around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, just held you there. Owning. His thumb rested against your pulse, keeping your head tipped back against his shoulder while he rolled his hips in a deep, slow grind. Soft kisses pressed against the side of your face while he murmured in your ear.

“Finally stopped all that runnin’, now you takin’ this dick just like you wanted it.” He kissed you messy and open mouthed, claiming your lips and swallowing your little moans. When he pulled away, you let out a breathless little laugh that turned into another moan.

“This… this the most you ever talked to me.” You managed, voice real shaky. “I—I like your voice.”

Smoke made a low, pleased sound against your ear. He took your wrist gently and guided your hand between your thighs, pressing your fingers against your clit. He moved them in slow steady circles, showing you the exact rhythm he wanted you to use. Then he left your hand there. 

“Keep touchin’ this pretty lil pussy just like that, and I’ll keep talkin’ for you, baby.”

You obeyed, fingers moving in the same slow circles he’d just shown you. The dual sensation of your own touch combined with the thick length of him grinding deep made your body shake harder in his arms. Soft, dazed moans left you and your eyes fluttered as the mixture of your arousal and his pre-cum slicked your fingers. Smoke’s lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“I kept catchin' you lookin’, y’know.” his voice was soft but the words were filthy. “Every time I was sittin’ with my legs spread wide…you’d stare. Thought I didn’t notice? I saw the way them pretty eyes kept droppin’ to my lap.”

He ground deeper and the hand on your throat tightened just enough to make you feel a little lightheaded, in a good way. Sweat dripped from his jaw onto your shoulder.

“This what you was thinkin' 'bout’?” he asked, voice gravelly. “Me holdin’ you real close like this… dick all the way inside this lil pussy…” he nudged just a little deeper on the last word. “Makin’ you take it nice and slow while you shakin’ and creamin’ on me? That what you kept you starin’ at me for?”

When you whimpered in response, he nipped lightly at your earlobe.

“Answer me, mama.”

“Y-yes” you managed. Smoke grunted before trailing the flat of his tongue slowly along the outer curve of your ear. The sensation made your eyes roll back hard and another helpless sound spilled out. A thin string of drool slipped from the corner of your lips.

“Just like that” he murmured. “Keep them lil fingers movin’ like I told you to. Pretty pussy stuffed so full and you just sittin’ here takin’ it and droolin’. And here I thought you was so innocent.”

He rolled his hips again, slow and mean, keeping you locked against his chest as your fingers worked your clit, soft sounds kept leaving your throat. He drew the next orgasm out just as carefully—voice real low and filthy against your ear, until your whole body shook in his lap and a long, trembling cry left you. 

“Keep cummin’ for me, just like that. Told you this grown man dick was different, baby.”

Your walls fluttered and pulsed around him in heavy waves. More cream spilled out around his dick again, making the wet sound even filthier. He held you through every second of it. Hand still possessive on your throat, the other firm on your belly, murmuring praise against your skin while you came. Sweat and spit and cream made everything between you slick and messy. 

The second your body started to soften, Smoke’s rhythm broke. He kept you locked against his chest, head tipped back on his shoulder so you could see the side of his face. His hips stuttered, grinding deep one last time before he barely pulled out. Just enough that the thick, swollen head of his dick slipped free and rested heavy against your soft folds. His hand left your belly only long enough to wrap around himself, stroking fast and tight right against your pussy.

A sound tore out of him that you’d never heard before.

Low, rough, almost wounded, like it had been dragged up from somewhere deep in his chest. His head tipped back, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut for a second before they opened again and locked on yours. Thick, hot ropes of cum shot out across your lower belly and the soft lips of your pussy in messy, heavy stripes. Each pulse made that same raw sound catch in his throat, quieter the second time, then again as another thick spurt landed on your skin.

He kept stroking himself through it, head of his dick dragging through the mess he’d just made on you and hips twitching every time another wave hit. His hand on your throat never loosened, keeping you exactly where he wanted you so you had no choice but to watch him fall apart against you.

When the last weak pulse left him, he stayed there breathing hard, forehead pressed to the side of your face, dick still resting against your messy pussy, and cum cooling on your belly. The only sound in the room for a long second was both of you trying to catch your breath.

“…Fuck” he finally muttered, voice wrecked in a way you’d never heard from him before.

When the last tremors finally faded, he laid your trembling frame on the couch. Still in between your legs, he leaned in and pressed soft, wet kisses to your swollen lips while your pussy clenched around nothing, missing him already.

Eventually, he pushed himself up off the couch, still breathing a little hard. He disappeared down the hallway and came back a moment later with a warm, damp washcloth. You were still stretched out where he’d left you, thighs parted slightly and chest rising and falling.

He sat on the edge of the cushion and started cleaning you softly like you were fragile. The cloth was hot and gentle against your skin as he ran it over the soft inside of your thighs. He wiped away the slick and the faint marks his hands had left. Then he moved between your legs, careful and thorough, making your stomach involuntarily jump. Lastly, he wiped the cloth across your tummy, erasing the thick stripes of his cum from your soft brown skin.

The whole time he barely said anything. He was back to his usual quiet self. His eyes kept drifting up to your face, taking in the soft, blissed-out look in your eyes, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the gentle bounce of your breasts with every still-uneven breath as your body tried to calm down. Something quiet and tender rested in his expression while he worked.

When he finished, he set the cloth aside and finally met your eyes.

“So what now?” you asked, voice soft and a little raw.

Smoke’s gaze flicked up to yours again and he shifted, settling his larger frame next to you on the couch and pulling you carefully into his chest. One heavy arm wrapped around the small of your back. The other found your hand and gently intertwined your fingers with his.

“Ima get my black ass decent before yo uncle comes in here…” he murmured, thumb stroking slow over your knuckles. “And then...it’s up to you.”

You were quiet for a second. Your cheek rested against his chest, listening to the steady thud of his heart. When you spoke again it was almost a whisper.

“I like you. Wanna see you again.”

Smoke didn’t answer right away. He just pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, lips warm against your skin as he let the words settle between you.

“We gon’ figure it out,” he said finally, voice low and sure. “You worth the trouble, baby.”

And that was enough for now.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

please respect my work 💌

Everything posted here is written

by @brownsugarletters. Please do not repost, copy, translate, claim as your own, upload to Al tools, or share my writing outside of Tumblr without permission.

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[hopefulandromantic]

Thank you so much for the likes, reblogs, and comments that still trickle in day by day! Y’all just don’t know how much it makes my day to see em! 😭🥹❤️ Happy Sunday, all! ❤️🥰

[lovergirlcinema]

i’ve been seeing people online being upset about David Jonsson being the new Black Panther over Damson Idris, and even going far enough to say that he’s not cute. Y’all David Jonsson is too fine, and most of he’s definitely talented. If y’all haven’t watched him in Industry, Rye Lane, Alien: Romulus, or The Long Walk, y’all are missing out on some talent!!

Also to go as far as implying that Ryan didn’t hire Damson bc of Michael is crazy work. We all know that Ryan hires based on who he feels will best bring the vision to life. I wish people would give David a shot before immediately writing him off bc I can see an Oscar in his future frfr!

Mind y’all, this is the man they trynna call unattractive 🥴

[hopefulandromantic]

insaneee 😍😍😭

[aizawash0e]

Hittin' All The Right Notes

₊ ♪˚⊹Order Up ₊ ♪˚⊹…….

Music!Producer!Stack x Black!Fem!Singer!Reader ‧₊ ♪˚⊹

☆┇a taste of the story: You were having a hard time in the studio today. Things just weren't in your favor today, whether it was the flow or the lyrics. Something was missing, and you just couldn't figure it out..until your producer and boyfriend!Stack helps you alone in the isolated recording booth.

☆┇ingredients & calorie count: this late night sweet treat includes 3k+ word servings. has notes of mr. certifited eaterrrr, music!producer!Stack, black!fem!singer!reader, p in v, porn with a bit of plot, oral (fem receiving), unprotected smexy time. 18+ ,MINORS THIS IS NOT THE BAKERY FOR YOU! Ella’s Mai’s Song 10,000 hours!! all lyrics belong to Ella Mai

☆┇mika's notes: this is in fact a late-night sweet treat for my lovelies who are still up at 2 am!! tried my best with proofreading sorry for the wait, everyone. (this was supposeddddd to be a drabble but…here we are with 3k words) But hope y'all enjoy! dividers cred @cursed-carmine

The music has been playing in your ears for hours now. It's a familiar routine, you inside the isolated booth, headphones that rested against your ear, standing in front of the mic. Sheet music stand holds your printed, now it's not like you really needed them. You know the words by heart, but something isn't hitting the way you want it to. So maybe see the lyrics physically might help you figure out whatever the problem is.

You can't tell if it's your vocals, the beat, or the lyrics themselves, but something is completely off.

Through the double-paned glass that was in front of you, the luxurious control room, with its plush leather seats, top-notch recording equipment, and the walls that were decorated with a mix of your own plaques and favorite artists' records. Sitting on the other side of the glass are your manager, Ayesha, your assistant and close friend, Tia, and right in the middle, sat right in front of the soundboard is Elias, also known as Stack, your producer and boyfriend.

This was supposed to be a quick session, but it has dragged on for three hours now. Wearing a comfortable brown halter top and camo skirt with a double belt that laid low on your hips, with lots of thigh to show underneath, you shift on your feet, the frustration starting to cloud your mind. You hum to yourself, shaking your head murmuring, "Mmm, something ain't right." Usually, you’re entirely confident in your music, but this creative block is causing a stubborn stagnancy.

Now you being in the studio for hours wasn't something new, but you having trouble like this?? now this was something completely different.

Ayesha watched you through the glass as you hummed to yourself . She took note of how you were nodding your head to the beat, but pen in hand and scribbling on the paper that had your lyrics on them.

You were in the studio longer then expected due to something that was bothering you, and you couldn't even place what it was.

You couldn't put your finger on it.

Ayesha took a brief sip of her water as she sighed leaning back in the office chair, that made a slight screeching noise as she leans back. And Stack, oh Stack's eyes never left you, he saw the tension in your expression the uncertainty and doubt clouding your mind, as you shook your head scribbling more on the paper.

Before any of them could speak, your voice broke the silence in the room.

Turning back into the mic, you ask, "Can y'all isolate my vocals? I'll sing it real quick."

Outside the glass, Stack’s head tilts. He leans his elbows on the mixing desk, his fingers moving smoothly against the sliders to mute the backing track.

But as you begin to sing the lyrics raw, it still isn't working. It’s not what you want to hear, and you weren't…..feeling it??

"What do you think it is?" Ayesha asked aloud, to both Stack and Tia, they both knew what she was asking.

Tia shrugged her shoulders as she shook her head, completely stumped on what could be the problem, she thought the song was perfect and sounded good to her "I'm gonna keep it real i ain't got a clue in the world, i liked the song, but you know how she gets when she don't like somethin', it doesn't leave her mind until she fixes it,".

Stack hums agreeing, he knew how she gets in her head so quickly when it comes to her music, she gets like that because she cares deeply about it, he always knew that everything had a place for her and so once something seems outta place, you were the one to fix it.

He just wonders what you were thinking.

You let out a heavy groan, sucking your teeth, unaware of how intently Stack is watching you. He always catches the small things—the furrow of your eyebrows, the tension in your shoulders, the doubt in your eyes.

He twirls a pen between his fingers, his tongue rolling into his cheek as an idea forms. He knows exactly how to break through your frustration or whatever is going on in your head.

"Tia, Ayesha," Stack says, his tone low and calculated as he speaks to the room. "We haven't had our break yet." He briefly looks at you. "Looks like she needs one, and we could use one too. Why don't y'all step out for a bit so I can talk to her?"

Tia and Ayesha exchange a look, then glance back at him. "You sure?" Tia asks.

Stack nods, rubbing his hand along his goatee. "Positive. Y'all go on and grab some lunch. I know y'all were talkin about the new place on 5th, see what happenin' over there. I'll text y'all when we're finished here."

Tia looks at Stack and then you, "You want us to get y'all a lil somethin, heard they got some good fries there too," she offers.

Stacks waves her off "Nah, I'm straight, but you can probably get her something to eat,".

Ayesha gives him a warning look, "You betta make sure she's alright,"

Stacks nods without hesitation "Always,".

Ayesha sighs, pushing back her rolling chair with a slight squeak, and grabs her purse. Tia follows close behind, their distant murmurs fading as the studio door clicks shut.

Now, Stack leans back in his chair, his eyes entirely fixed on you.

You're still looking down at your lyric sheet, pen in hand, aggressively scratching out words and editing lines. The sudden sound of the heavy booth door opening snaps you out of your daze. Looking up, your shoulders instantly ease at the sight of him walking in. Elias stands there taking in your frustrated appearance, his white shirt clinging to his frame, every ridge of his muscles on display, and for a second, the stress of the track completely fades away.

You turn your head back to the sheet of lyrics.

"Elias, i don't know, how do i sound to you?" your head hangs low as you ask.

"You always sound good to me"

Stack's heart softens even more after he hears you call him 'Elias', it was a soft spot for him always. He walks up behind you, his hand on the music stand looking over your scribbles and notes you made on the paper as his hand slither around your waist.

"What's bothering you so much that it's got you writing liking chicken scratch on the lovely lyrics?" He asks with a smirk appearing on his face.

You sigh and shrug. "I don't know.. something ain't clicking, I'm just not feeling it,"

"I'm just….this never happens to me, you know?" you add.

Stack picks up the paper and looks at it, reading it as he paces the room, and he hums the beat to himself .

"How bout, you tell me what you like in the song and what you got going on in that head of yours?" he ask as he lightly taps your temple.

You look around the room, as you pull the one side of the headphones away from your ear.

"Ummm, I like the percussion on this track, also really like slow vibe on the one part that gives a little sensual vibe,". You begin to hum the song and go to the chorus that you love and sing.

"Why you always take so long to call me? Know I gotta wake up in the mornin'. You know every second adds up to a minute.

As you are singing Stack leaves the room heading back to the control room and standing right in front of the soundboard. He watches you, your eyes are closed and singing, he can see that you are easing into the music and then his finger moves against one of the sliders, slowing the tempo down just a little bit.

You like the way that sounds, so you continue.

You sing .

"Need 10,000 hours, We can be so in love, Don't stop, I'm counting them up.

Run the clock, I be counting them up.

We can be so in love.

You know every second adds up to a minute.

Need 10,000 hours

We can be so in love."

As you sing, Stack is adjusting the soundboard, so when you sing the lyrics "We could be so in love" it loops. Your voice is now a background vocal and looping. It sounds exactly what was missing .

A smile can't help but appear on your face as you sing. Before Stack walks back into the isolated room, he watches you as you finish singing and saves that track. You still sing to the music, and Stack walks up to you smiling.

“How does it sound now?" he asks, looking at you.

You smile as you take the headphones off and place them on his ears. Before he even hears the rest, his lips find yours, melting together. His hands immediately find your ass, as he listens to your voice singing to him

"Y/N, you sound so good" he pulls away breathlessly from the kiss.

He presses himself against you and you smile. Your lips dance together as his hand find the back of your head, bringing you closer to him.

"Hold on baby," he says pulling away ripping a needy moan from you. As he takes the headphones off and leaves the room.

He leaves the room and your panties are soaked, you stand there waiting and soon you hear your voice coming from the speakers of the isolated room.

The song you just sang, now playing throughout the room.

He walks back in with a erection that can't be ignored, but he caresses your cheek.

"Told you before to stop doubting yourself, ain't I?". He asks looking down at you.

"Y-Yes," you lean up to kiss him but he doesn't let you get the satisfaction just yet.

"You were stressin' and all I needed to hear was what you were fucking with and what you weren't, and I knew what to add once I heard it.” He kisses your neck, his wet lips sliding up your neck with little bites he leaves as he makes his way up to your ear and kisses it.

You can't help but let out a moan "Mmm, baby,".

Stack smiles against your ear, your hear a soft huff of air and shiver, "Now you just listen to yourself and how pretty you sound," he directs.

You take a sharp breath as he kisses your ear, and smiles.

As you kiss him, your soaked panties cling to your soppy pussy. You feel his fingers pull them to the side, toying with your sensitive clit, causing you to jolt in his arms.

He smirks something cocky as he watches you. He lives for how sensitive you are for him, how wet you are.

His hand slowly holds you, pressing you against the double glass-paned window. You kiss him before he pulls away and shows all the love to your chest, licking the part of skin that shows on your test and squeezing your nipples through your bra.

His eyes lock with yours, causing you to whimper as his other hand has remained busy on your clit. He kisses down your body, your breathing becomes heavy. He moves the material of your skirt and kisses the meat of your thighs. He then drags his tongue on your clothed pussy a couple of times. Your head leans back on the glass window pane.

" 'Lias- you ain't gotta-" you begin to say

"Shh, what i need you to do is it back and sing for me, go on and listen to your song and hit those high notes for me," Stack grins as he pushed your soaked panties to the side, giving your pussy kisses and licks before sliding your panties off.

His grabs your thigh, placing it on his shoulder as he begins to devour your pussy, full of tongue as his nose begins to rub your clit, your eyes widen and mouth agape as you hand supports the back of his head. "F-Fuck S-S-Eliass you—".

Stack smiles as his tongue delves into you. He groans as he hears you having trouble speaking, stumbling and stuttering over your words. Doesn't sound like much singing to him.

Your moans can't be helped from escaping you.

"Baby, I need more, please. I- could you please stop teasing!" you whine out, your hands caressing the back of his head.

Stack chuckles and hits your g spot one last time, leaving a drabble of spit and your juices smeared on his lips and your pussy. He slurps every bit, and he pulls away, standing to his feet as he hears your pleas.

"So damn, impatient. I ain't doing shit until I hear my pretty girl sing like I hear you on these fucking speakers. You got a voice of the angels, princess, and I wanna hear that." He rasps as his dick throbs in his pants.

You clear your throat, realizing he is serious. As he smiles, tilting his head, grabbing your hips and turning you to face the glass window, your hands immediately bracing on the cold glass and your breath panning on the window, fogging up just as you exhale.

And you begin to sing, the lyrics. Your voice oozing like honey in his ears. You are harmonizing with yourself. "I've been high and I've been low." He holds your hips, kissing your shoulder and neck as you continue. You feel the bass from the speakers in your chest, or maybe that was your heart racing because of how wet you were. You begin to find the rhythm of the music as if there wasn't a care in the world."But this time I know it's for sure." He watches you in the glass , his eyes taking in your figure, and feeling your ass, and soon his hands aren't on you. You

You hear a zzziiiipppp sound behind you. Stack fists himself behind you, tapping your leg, signaling for you to spread your legs wider . You continue singing."Cause I'm right where I belong, and we are only getting stronger. Feel's good to be down in my—!"

"Oooouuuu shiit—" You moan as your head leans on the glass, your breath fogging a spot on the window. Stack lined himself up with your soaked pussy so quickly you didn't even realize, and his thrust wasn’t so gentle; they had urgency and passion behind it.

"Fuuck!. You are everything, baby. Ain’t nobody doing it like you ain’t, that right?". He sinks into you again, causing your body to jolt to the window as Stack grips your hips. Your back arching, Stack looks down, looking down as his dick thrusts into you.

In and Out. In and Out. In and Out.

A constant pace, a relentless one.

“You’re so wet for me, baby. All for me, my pretty girl. Sing just for me." He grunts as he kisses your neck. Both of your senses were blown. Your music on a loop in the room, mic stand kicked on the floor. Hands everywhere, and Stack fucking you like there was no tomorrow as you throw your pussy back to him. Stack moaning and grunting in your ear as your head is leaned back on his shoulder, hand on the window, bracing and back arching.

"You sound really close, baby. You gonna come for me, ain't you?" Stack kisses your shoulder, the sound of your lovemaking, remixing with the music you just made in the studio.

Tears begin to prick into your eyelids as you whine. "Aaa-aa- I-I can't hold it anymore".

The wet slapping sounds coming from your pussy only grew as Stack continues, the material of your skirt flipped to your back. You cum, no longer able to hold it, as a moaning cry leaves your lips as your whole body convulses and locks. That doesn't cause Stack to pull back; in fact, it drives him even crazier.

Stack pulls your hips back as he is chasing your release with his own. His thrust pushes you forward to the glass. You use the glass as leverage, pushing your pussy back onto his dick, and you hear him moan. Stack cums with a groan , kissing your neck and sinking his teeth, leaving marks on your skin.

Stack fills you up, and some cum spurts onto the underside of your skirt, sinking into the material. You two catch your breath. As he pulls out slowly, smacking your ass, causing you to yelp, "Eliass!"

“Girl, stop all that," Stack chuckles, rubbing your ass softly and leading you to take a seat.

You both take a minute catching your breath as his arm wraps around you. You look at the glass closely. Squinting and smirking as you whisper, "Oh my god."

Stack looks at you as he is adjusting himself back into his pants, as he zipping his pants back up and catches his breath, "Oh my god, what, what are we whatin' about?" As he moves his head trying to match your eye line and see what you are seeing, a smirk that shows his dimples all too well appears on his face.

You try to stop him. "Don't start."

But you knew it was already done

Stacks smile is wide with pride, "Oh ho hoooo, I'm definitely taking a picture of this for keepsake, damn baby, I had your hand print like that.”

You roll your eyes, giggling at his foolish behavior, as he gets up and grabs his phone, snapping a picture at an angle for the lighting to be just right and.

Click. Click. Click.

A couple of shots were taken, and as he bends down, picking up the music stand and fallen lyrics, phone in hand, he can't help but smile as his eyes examine the picture closer.

"Hold up, I'm not gonna lie, this would make a dope ass cover for the album." He nods at the picture, already thinking of a way to edit it, if you agreed.

You can't help but roll your eyes, but now that you think of it, maybe you would.

A hand print of your love, where you make the music you love, isn't such a bad idea.

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙— mika’s notes: thank you for reading lovelies, please reblog, comment and let me know what you think!! <𝟑 .ᐟ

۶ৎ if you’d like to continue to become a regular at my bakery, join my taglist to place your order! 🍮🥄 ˚₊‧

╰┈➤ ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Here is the other baked goods you might want to taste. Check out my masterlist!

╰┈➤ 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

I know Elijah like to sniff Annie’s bloomers & im sure Elias be sniffing them too when he gets the chance

Lines to a Nasturtium

Flame-flower, Day-torch, Mauna Loa,

I saw a daring bee, today, pause, and soar,

Into your flaming heart;

Then did I hear crisp crinkled laughter

As the furies after tore him apart?

A bird, next, small and humming,

Looked into your startled depths and fled ...

Surely, some dread sight, and dafter

Than human eyes as mine can see,

Set the stricken air waves drumming

In his flight…

A grounding aroma of simmering okra, garlic, and the earthy sweetness of turnip greens filled the atmosphere of the Moore household. Annie moved through the kitchen with grace, her plush figure draped in a soft, cream-colored robe that clung to the generous curves of her hips and the heavy swell of her breasts. She was preparing for her evening bath, her mind drifting toward the quietude of the water. 

That’s when she heard the heavy thud of the front door echoing through the house. 

She didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was Smoke. She could feel him, the way the energy in the room transitioned, a wave of cold, hard steel crashing against the warmth of her sanctuary. 

When he stepped into the kitchen, he looked like a man who had walked through hell and brought some of the soot back with him. His Gatsby cap was pulled low, shadowing eyes that were vacant and haunted, his jaw set in a line of rigid tension. He didn’t speak; Smoke rarely did when the weight of his work was pressing down on his shoulders. He simply stopped in front of her, his presence towering and oppressive, yet desperate.

Annie didn’t ask about his day. She didn’t ask who he had broken or what he had seen. She simply opened her arms, Smoke collapsing into her, his large frame sinking into the softness of her body. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of magnolia and vanilla that radiated from her dark skin. His arms wrapped around her waist, his large hands squeezing the lush meat of her hip, anchoring himself to the only thing in the world that felt real. Annie let out a soft, humming sound, her arms winding around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the tension of his upper back. 

“You home,” she whispered, her voice a velvet balm. 

He groaned low in his throat, a sound of pure exhaustion, and pulled back just enough to capture her lips in a kiss. It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was hungry and possessives. A silent demand for grounding. He tasted of stale tobacco and something metallic, but Annie met his intensity with a patient, nurturing heat, her full lips molding against his. 

Slowly, she began to peel the world away from him. Her soft hands reached up to take the cap from his head, setting it aside. His slicked hair came into view, neatly parted and still in place despite the way he was feeling. She slid the heavy wool suit jacket off his shoulder, gunpowder residue clinging tenaciously to the fabric. Then, her fingers moved to the buttons of his dress shirt. One by one, she popped them open, revealing the stark white tank top stretched tight across his massive chest and the hard ridges of his abdomen.

“Sit,” Annie commanded gently, guiding him to the heavy oak kitchen table. 

Smoke obeyed without question, his movements sluggish. He sat, his large hands resting flat on the table, gaze fixed on her with an intensity that bordered on worship. 

Annie ladled a steaming bowl of gumbo, thick with okra and seafood, and placed a generous slab of golden cornbread and a heap of turnip greens beside it. She didn’t leave him to eat; she stayed. As Smoke began to eat, the warmth of the food slowly thawing the ice in his veins, Annie stepped behind him. She placed her palms on his shoulders, her fingers finding the knots of tension that lived permanently in his trapezius muscles. She leaned in, the weight of her breasts pressing against his back, her warmth seeping through the thin cotton of his tank top. 

She began to massage him, her thumbs digging deep into the muscles, kneading away the violence of the day. Smoke let out a long, shuddering breath, his head dropping forward as he focused on the taste of her cooking and the feeling of her hands. A dangerous man being brought back to life by the woman who owned his soul. 

Annie leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. She spoke in a low, melodic whisper, the ancient tones of Yoruba flowing from her, the words a secret language of devotion and healing that only the two of them shared in the sanctity of their home. She pressed a lingering warm kiss to the side of his neck, her lips molding to his skin, leaving a mark of ownership and peace. 

Annie moved around the table, sliding into the chair beside him. With practiced, nimble fingers, she reached for his tobacco and rolling papers. Smoke watched her in a heavy glazed silence, his gaze tracing the way her breasts swayed beneath her cream-colored robe as she worked. She rolled the cigarettes with precision that was almost meditative, her movements fluid. When she finished, she set the hand-rolled cigarettes on the table and stood, gathering his empty plate. 

As she moved to the sink to clean the remains of gumbo, Smoke reached for one of the cigarettes, the familiar ritual grounding him. He stood and walked out to the back porch, the screen door clicking shut behind him. The night air was thick and smelling of rich, black earth baked by sun. River water from bayous, creeks, and drainage ditches. Corn, sorghum, and vegetable gardens. Cypress and oak after rain. Mule sweat. And humidity itself. 

Smoke leaned against the railing, the orange-cherry of his cigarette glowing in the dark. He inhaled deeply, the nicotine mixing with the lingering scent of Annie’s vanilla and magnolia that clung to his skin. He stared out into the blackness of trees, letting the silence of the Delta swallow the noise of the violence he had dealt with earlier. He stayed there until the cigarette was a mere stub, then crushed it out with a slow motion of his thumb. 

When he stepped back inside, he washed his hands in the basin, grabbed some water from the icebox to wash down his food properly, and headed to their bedroom. Past their bed with an iron frame that produced loud squeaks whenever Smoke pounded into his wife. He removed his shoes, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his feet. 

Annie was there, waiting. She had already begun to prepare for her bath, the room warm and humid. She didn’t say a word. She could feel the residue of his burdens, the tight coil of stress that still lived in the base of his spine and the hardness in his eyes. She knew the hunger that came with his exhaustion—a need not just for sex, but for the raw, scant-driven surrender that only she could provide.

Her gaze locked onto his, dark and knowing. Slowly, Annie reached beneath the hem of her robe. Her fingers hooked onto the waistband of her cotton bloomers, and with a slow, teasing slide, she stepped out of them. 

The fabric was damp, clinging to the lush, heavy curves of her thighs and saturated with the concentrated essence of her womanhood—the musk of her heat, the sweetness of her skin, and the deep, earthy scent of her arousal. 

Annie stepped closer to him, her eyes never leaving his, and dropped the warm, scented fabric directly into his large, calloused hand. The bloomers felt heavy and humid against his palm. 

Annie gave him one last, lingering look, then she turned and walked away, leaving him alone. 

Smoke stood frozen, his chest heaving slowly, his large hand tighter around the fabric. For Smoke, this wasn’t just a fetish; it was a grounding ritual. A way to purge the metallic tang of blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder that seemed to permanently stain his soul. 

Slowly, he brought the fabric to his face, closing his eyes as he inhaled the intoxicating, pungent cocktail of her natural musk, the sweetness of her fragrance and the salty, primal scent of her arousal, the only thing capable of truly silencing the noise on his head. He didn’t just sniff them; he pressed the fabric deep into his nostrils, molding the cotton against the bridge of his nose and cheeks, sealing himself off from the rest of the world. 

Smoke took a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling the scent with a violent intensity. The smell hit him like a physical blow. It was the scent of home, of safety, and of an overwhelming, earthy femininity. It was the smell of Annie’s plush, heavy thighs and the deep hidden folds of her pussy. The aroma was rich and fermented, a heady mix of vanilla, magnolia, and the raw musk-heavy scent of a woman in her prime. 

As the scent filled his lungs, Smoke’s eyes drifted shut, his heavy lids fluttering. A low, guttural groan vibrated in his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated surrender. The tension that had been coiled in his shoulders since dawn finally snapped. The ghosts of the men he’d killed, the screams, the suffocation of the Delta night—all of it was drowned out by the intoxicating potency of his wife. 

His body reacted instantly. Beneath his dark slacks, his thick, heavy dick surged to life, straining against the fabric. It throbbed with a demanding pulse, the head of his dick curving to the right, pressing hard against his thigh. He could feel the pre-cum leaking, wetting his underwear as his mind conjured the image of Annie’s full-bodied plushness, the way her heavy breasts would sway and how her wide, lush lips would feel beneath his palms. 

Smoke repositioned his grip, rubbing the fabric of the bloomers against his lips, tasting the faint, salty residue of her sweat and heat. He inhaled again, deeper this time, pulling the scent into the very depths of his chest until he felt lightheaded. The musk acted like a drug, stripping away his discipline, leaving only the raw, possessive hunger of a man who belonged entirely to the woman who wore these clothes. 

Smoke pressed the cotton harder against his face, breathing becoming ragged and shallow. He imagined he could feel her presence in the fabric—the warmth of her skin, the softness of her curves. He was anchored now, pulled back from the edge of the darkness by the scent of her womanhood. 

Smoke stood there lost in the sensory overload. His large frame trembled slightly. He was a deadly man, a killer feared by many, but in the solitude of this room, clutching a piece of damp cotton, he was nothing more than a devotee at an altar, completely consumed by the scent of the woman who had held his heart and his sanity in her hands. 

Annie stood by the edge of the clawfoot tub, the steam beginning to curl around her ankles, leaving her completely exposed in the dim lighting of the bathroom. She was a masterpiece of abundance, a landscape of deep, ebony skin that flowed with a soft, natural luster. Her breasts we’re heavy and lush, hanging with a natural, weighted grace, the dark wide areolas peaking through the mist. Her waist dipped inward, creating a dramatic curve that led to the magnificent expanse of her hips—wide, fertile, and sweeping. Her belly was soft, a gentle rounded swell that spoke of warmth and nourishment, leading down to a thick, neatly groomed mound of curls that guarded her honeyed heat. Her thighs were pillars of plushness, rubbing together with every slight movement of weight, and her rear was a heavy, rounded bounty that seemed to defy gravity, shaking slightly with the motion of her hips.

Just as she prepared to step into the water, the door creaked open. Smoke stood there, his silhouette filling the frame, his presence instantly sucking the air out of the room. His eyes—dark and predatory—swept over her nakedness with a hunger that was almost violent. His gaze locked onto hers, his face a mask of hard, disciplined desire. 

“Don’t wash yet.” He commanded.

His voice wasn’t a request; it was a low, guttural vibration that seemed to echo in the very marrow of her bones. It was primal, stripped of all civility, carrying the weight of a man who spent the day dealing in death and now craved the only thing that could bring him back to life. The sheer dominance in his tone sent a jolt of electricity straight to Annie’s core, making her clit twitch and jump against her thighs, a sudden, wet pulse of arousal that left her breathless. 

“Get back in this room.” Smoke commanded 

“Why?” Annie questioned, although she knew why. Like she didn’t just hand over her draws soaked in her pussy. 

“Cause I said so.” Smoke replied with finality. 

Without a word, Annie obeyed. The submission was instinctive, a response to the raw power radiating off him. She turned and walked back into the bedroom, her heavy hips swaying, her plush thighs brushing together with a soft shuck-shuck sound. When she reached the vanity, she gripped the polished wood and leaned forward, bending deep at the waist. She poked her ass out, offering herself to him, her massive, rounded cheeks framing the hidden entrance to her heat. 

Smoke approached her slowly, his feet silent on the floorboards. He didn’t touch her at first, he simply stood behind her, his predatory gaze devouring the sight of her bent-over posture. He could see the way her skin stretched over the fullness of her rear, the deep dimples at the base of her spine. 

He reached out, his hands spanning the width of her cheeks. He began to stroke her, his palms sliding over the velvet softness of their skin, kneading the heavy flesh of her ass with a possessive grip. Then, with a sudden, firm movement, he hooked his fingers into the crease of her thighs and pulled her cheeks apart. 

The sound was visceral—a wet, tacky schlick as the suction of her plush cheeks broke, the skin peeling away from itself with a moist sliding noise. 

As Smoke pulled her open, the view was breathtaking. The stark contrast of his rough fingers against her glowing skin highlighted the vulnerability and the invitation. Her pussy was revealed in all its glory. A plump, swollen slot of deep pink and mauve, glistening with a thick layer of translucent arousal. The outer lips were heavy and lush, pushed aside to reveal the tight, pulsing opening of her canal and the hooded, engorged pearl of her clit, which was weeping with desire. 

Smoke sank to his knees with a heavy thud, his breath hitching. From this angle, he was staring directly into the heart of her. He was blown away by the sight—the sheer, fertile abundance of her, the scent of her musk hitting him in a concentrated wave, mixing with the smell of the room. He looked at the way her heavy thighs trembled and how her pussy pulsed in time with her heartbeat, a raw, opening invitation that promised total consumption. Smoke stayed there for a moment, frozen in awe, a predator captivated by the absolute beauty of his prey. 

“Lines to a Nasturtium.” Smoke whispered, breathy and full of desire.

Up close, the sight was hypnotic. Smoke watched with a predatory intensity as her clit, a swollen, engorged m pearl of deep mauve began to twitch. It was a frantic, involuntary pulsing, jumping against the hood of her pussy as it sought a friction that wasn’t there yet. The sheer anticipation of his presence, the raw dominance of his command, had pushed her body into a state of desperate readiness. 

Below the twitchy pearl, her creamy canal was reacting in kind. Smoke could see the plush walls of her opening clenching and releasing, a hungry contraction that gripped at the empty air. Her pussy was breathing, the tight ring of muscle pulsing in a desperate attempt to pull him inside, the walls sliding against one another in a wet, sliding motion that produced a faint, squelching sound. 

The longer he stared, the more her body surrendered to him. The arousal became a flood. A thick, translucent trail of clear cream began to seep from her depths, glistening under the light. It pooled momentarily on her labia before gravity took hold and a single, heavy drop of nectar began to slide slowly down the curve of her clit, tracing a shimmering path toward the floor. Smoke’s dark eyes followed the drip with a focused, singular intensity, his pupils blown wide, tracking every millimeter of its descent as if it were the only thing that existed in the world. 

Smoke leaned in closer, his face just inches away from her. The scent of her—that heady, musk-heavy aroma of a woman in peak arousal—bit him like a physical blow, making his thick dick throb violently against the fabric of his slacks. Smoke didn’t touch her yet because he wanted her to ache. He wanted her to feel the void where he should be. 

Annie’s palms were pressed flat against the cool wood, her spine arching beautifully. The position thrust her wide, plush hips back, offering her full, rounded ass and plump pussy to him like a feast. The deep dark crease where her cheeks parted. Swollen pussy lips just between them. 

He leaned forward, his warm breath ghosting over her sensitive flesh, sending a fresh wave of shivers through her plush thighs. His tongue caught the dripping trail as it spilled like warm honey. He savored the flavor on his tongue before licking his lips. When he spoke, his voice was a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to hum directly onto her clit. 

“I’m a lick every bit of this sweetness…” Smoke rumbled, his voice a low, a deep vibration. “Bury my tongue deep in ya and lap you clean ‘til you screamin’ my name.” 

Without waiting for a word, Smoke pressed his face flush against her, his tongue sweeping in one long, wet stroke from her opening all the way down to her clit just hanging there begging for attention. 

Annie let out a sharp, strangled gasp, her fingers clawing at the vanity as her back arched further. The sound of it, the wet slapping noise of his tongue meeting her drenched folds filled the space. 

Smoke groaned deep in his chest, the sound primal and hungry. He began to lap at her greedily, his tongue broad and rough, mimicking the motion of a dick. He focused on her clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud before sucking it firmly into his mouth. 

Annie’s legs trembled, her knees nearly buckling as she let out a loud, guttural moan. She was soaking him now, her juices coating his lips and chin, but he ain’t give a fuck. He wanted every drop. Smoke pushed two fingers deep inside her, feeling the tight, hot walls of her pussy clamp down on him in a frantic, come-hither motion like he was exercising his trigger finger, all while his tongue continued to punish her clit with relentless pressure. 

Smoke was possessed. Driven by a primal hunger that had been simmering since he first pressed her scent-soaked bloomers to his face. The smell of her—that heavy, musk-laden sweetness—had snapped something inside him, and now he was taking it out on her pussy with a predatory vigor. He didn’t just lick her; he devoured her. With Annie bent over the vanity, her plush cheeks spread wide by his bruising grip, Smoke buried his face deep into her flower. He was eating her like a starving man, his thick tongue working with a relentless force that left no inch of her untouched. 

Smoke started at her clit, his broad tongue sweeping upward in long, wet strokes that slurped up every drop of her arousal. The sound was visceral—a loud, wet, lapping noise, the sound of his lips slurping her open. Smoke was sucking her pussy clean, lips sealed tight around her swollen folds, pulling the sensitive flesh into his mouth and creating a suction that made Annie’s entire body shudder. 

“Goddamn, you taste like heaven…” Smoke growled against her skin, his voice a vibration she felt deep in her womb. “I’m a drink every last drop of you, Annie. Every single fuckin’ bit.” 

Smoke shifted his focus, his tongue becoming a weapon of ruin. He began to lap at her clit with a frantic, greedy energy, swirling around the engorged bud before sucking it deep into his mouth. Smoke slurped at her, his tongue flicking rapidly, wet, tongue thrashing sounds mixed with her arousal, driving her higher and higher. He was trying to clean her out, his mouth working tirelessly to lap up the thick, creamy juices that were flooding from her. 

Annie was a mess, her fingers digging into the wood of the vanity, her head hanging low as she let out uncontrolled moans. Every time he sucked her in, she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her spine, her wide hips bucking against his face.

Smoke pushed his face harder against her, his nose pressing right up against her rear entrance, inhaling her intoxicating scent while his tongue—dripping with so much saliva it clung to his goatee—continued to punish her, the wet sounds of his gluttony filling the air—slurp, lap, suck—as he worked his way from her clit up to the very entrance of her canal, licking her clean with a possessive, ritualistic gusto. He wanted her tasted, drained, and completely claimed. He used his thick tongue to probe the opening of her pussy, licking deep inside, tasting the salt and sweetness. He was eating her with a desperation that bordered on violence. 

When that thick, wet muscle slapped against her clit and slurped at her opening with a primal greed Annie was seeing stars. 

The world had shrunk down to the sensation of Smoke’s mouth devouring her. She had been rendered speechless for several long minutes, her breath hitching in jagged gasps, her mind a blur of white heat. But as he continued to suck her—pulling her folds deep into his mouth and creating a seal that felt like it was drawing the very soul out of her—she finally broke.

“Smoke…oh, Smoke…please…” she whimpered, her voice shaky and thin. 

She didn’t know what to do with herself. Her hands, which had been gripping the vanity, began to claw at the wood, then wandered blindly, one hand reaching back to clutch at his head, the other pressing flat against the mirror, leaving a smear of sweat and her fingerprints. She was completely at his mercy, her heavy breasts swinging beneath her, rounded belly trembling with every sound she made. 

Smoke didn’t answer with words. He answered with a deep, vibrating hum that echoed through her entire pelvic floor, a low grunt of satisfaction that vibrated against her clit. He was eating her like she was the only thing keeping him alive, his nose buried in her musk, his tongue flicking with a frantic expert precision that drove her toward the edge. 

The sensation became too much—a tidal wave of pleasure that crashed over her. As the first spasm of her orgasm hit, Annie’s head snapped back, her eyes rolling. In the height of her release, she gasped out a phrase in Yoruba, her voice a melodic, breathless moan. 

"Olúwa, mo n'íyìn rẹ...mọ́ mọ́ mi..."

The words were a prayer and a plea. A surrender to the raw power of the man between her thighs. Her plush body began to shake violently, her wide hips bucking uncontrollably against his face. Her pussy clamped down hard on his tongue, pulsing in thick waves, flooding his mouth with a fresh surge of creamy, hot arousal.

Smoke didn’t give her a second to breathe. As she came, he doubled down, sucking her clit, slurping up the overflow of her climax with a greedy, wet sound. He grunted into her, his face drenched in her juices, his tongue continuing to lap and probe her twitching twat even as she shuddered. He wanted to feel every single contraction, wanted to taste the very peak of her pleasure, refusing to stop until he had drained her completely. 

Smoke finally eased back. He stood at his full, imposing height, his chest heaving slightly, dark eyes clouded with lust. Annie turned and leaned against the vanity, her legs trembling, her breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches as she tried to gather the shattered pieces of her composure. She was drenched, her own juices and Smoke’s saliva slicking her thighs. 

Annie watched, mesmerized and breathless, as Smoke reached up and gripped the hem of his tank top, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion. The fabric clung to his sweat–slicked skin before falling to the floor, revealing the raw power of his torso—broad shoulders, a hard, carved chest, and abdominal muscles that rippled with every breath. Smoke shrugged off his pants and underwear with a disciplined efficiency, letting them drop.

Annie’s eyes widened, her throat going dry. There it was—his massive, thick dick, fully erect and pulsing with a heavy vein wrapped around the shaft. It was a formidable piece of meat, long and heavy, with a distinct aggressive right hook that curved slightly at the top, promising to hit every sensitive spot deep inside her. It stood proud and rigid, a dark, swollen pillar of desire that made her pussy react with a sudden, renewed emptiness. 

Smoke stepped forward, no words said. He reached out and gripped her hips, his large hands nearly meeting around her waist with a sudden, commanding strength. Smoke didn’t give her time to adjust. He hooked his arms under her plush thighs, muscles digging into the plush flesh, and hoisted her up, lifting her heavy ass off the vanity. 

Annie gasped, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, her ankles locking behind his back to keep herself anchored to him. Smoke slammed one of his palms down onto the vanity, gripping the edge of the wood so hard his knuckles bulged, anchoring them both. 

Then, he drove into her. 

Smoke didn’t ease in. He aligned that right-curving head with her opening and buried himself deep inside her in one brutal, thumping stroke. The impact was seismic. Annie’s head snapped back, a loud moan escaping her as her tight walls were stretched to their absolute limit by his girth. He buried himself to the hilt, his balls slapping hard against the cuff of her cheeks that spilled over the edge of the vanity. 

Smoke began to move, delivering relentless, thumping strokes that were more like beating down than lovemaking. Each thrust was deep and punishing, the curve of his dick hooking and grinding directly against her G-spot with every plunge. The force of his movements was so powerful that Annie’s plush body was damn near bouncing off of him, her heavy breasts swaying wildly, soft belly slapping against his hard abs with a wet sound. 

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

A raw, carnal percussion. 

Annie was rendered completely speechless, her mouth hanging open, her breath hitching in her throat. She couldn’t find the words. Couldn’t even scream. She could only cling to him, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back. 

Through it all, Smoke never looked away. He kept his gaze locked onto hers, his dark eyes boring deep into her soul. There was no softness in his expression, only a fierce, possessive intensity. He watched her face as he fucked her, watching her eyes glaze over and her lips tremble, savoring the way she broke under the weight of his masculinity. He was claiming her, marking her from the inside out, his silence more commanding than any word he could have spoken. 

He didn’t let up for a second.

His grip on her thighs tightened as he grounded his weight, folding Annie’s plush body even further. He pressed her back against the mirror of the vanity, her spine arching as he tucked her legs deeper over his muscular arms. Her feet dangled in the air, bouncing helplessly with every thumping drive of his hips. The impact was delivered with ferocity, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against her like a wet drum. 

Annie was lost in it, her head tossing from side to side, her voice breaking as she cried out his given name. 

“Elijah…ooh, Elijah!”  Annie wailed, the sound raw. She rarely called him that, but in the heat of this collision, she needed the man. Not the ghost. Not the enforcer. Her Elijah.

 As she looked up at him, her vision blurred with pleasure, she saw the evidence of his hunger. Her own thick, sweet cream was smeared across his dark mustache and glistening on his full lips, a messy trophy of how he had just spent the last thirty minutes eating her out. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing the iris, leaving only two dark, predatory voids that stared into her with an intensity that made her feel like she was being consumed. Inside her, his dick felt like a rod of heated iron, so stiff and thick that it stretched her walls to the breaking point. 

Mid-thrust, as Smoke drove himself deep, burying his length to the hilt, Annie’s hand shot out. Her fingers brushed the surface of the vanity, snagging the lace of her discarded bloomers. She gripped the fabric tight, pulling the scent-soaked garment toward him just as he lunged forward again. 

She pressed the damp cotton directly against Smoke’s nose and mouth, muffling his heavy breathing with the concentrated scent of her own arousal. 

Smoke froze for a split second, the sudden olfactory attack hitting him like a physical blow. The smell of her filled his lungs. It was the scent of his woman, his home, and his obsession. A low, growl ripped from his throat, vibrating against the fabric. 

The scent triggered something feral in him. His eyes darkened even further, and he stopped the thumping, instead grinding his hips in a slow, agonizing circle, twisting that curved head deep inside her at all angles. Smoke inhaled sharply through the fabric, sucking in the essence of her while he stared down, his nostrils flaring. 

“You tryna drive me crazy, Annie?” Smoke rasped, his voice a deep, shaky rasp.

“I ain’t gotta try…you already there, baby.” 

Smoke grunted, bit down on the bloomers, holding the fabric between his teeth, saliva dampening the fabric further and returned to the brutal pace. His strokes becoming even more forceful. He fucked Annie with a renewed, desperate hunger, his body slamming into her plush curves with a force that threatened to knock the vanity over, claiming every inch of her as he chased the edge of his own release. 

“Fuck me, daddy.” Annie moaned, gripping his sweaty biceps. 

Smoke’s pace didn’t slow. If anything, the scent of her on his breath and in his nose had pushed him into a state of pure, focused aggression. He was hammering into her, thick, right-curving dick grinding non-stop over her G-spot with a wet thud that shook the vanity. Annie’s breath was coming in jagged, shallow hitches, her fingers digging into his arms. 

“Get, it, daddy. Get it. Fuck ya’ wife’s pussy. This Smoke’s pussy—ahhh!” Annie gasped. “Tire ni, tire ni, tire ni baba.” 

She could feel it building. A tight electric coil winding up inside her belly, radiating down into her drenched pussy. Every time he bottomed out, her internal muscles clamped tight around him, milking him instinctively. Her voice began to tremble, the words shaking as the pleasure reached a fever pitch. 

“Elijah…I’m…I’m gonna…” Annie gasped, her voice wavering, thin and needy. “I’m ’bout to break, baby…I’m comin’…”

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. 

He let her draws fall from his mouth.

Smoke let out a low hum of approval, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. He leaned in, his chest crushing her plush breasts, his lips grazing the shell of her. 

“Then break for me, baby,” Smoke rasped, his voice a dark, commanding rumble. “Give it all to me, let me feel every bit of it on my dick.” 

Thwack…thwack…thwack…thwackthwackthwackthwack—

“Sweet Jesus, please!” Annie wailed, her voice shaking violently. “Right there…just like that…oh, baby!” 

Smoke groaned. He repositioned his angle, driving his hips forward with a grinding force that pinned her further against the glass. 

Thwackthwackthwackthwack—

“You feel how that pussy hug on my dick?” Smoke grunted, his breath heavy against her neck. “You fuckin’ drenched, woman. Squeezin’ me like you never want me to jump out this pussy—” 

“I don’t!” Annie cried out, her voice cracking. “I want you…I want you deep…right on that spot!” 

“I’m right here,” Smoke growled, his pace becoming a blur of friction and deep-seeded desire. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Now cum for your man. Cum on this dick, Annie. Let it go.” 

The command was the final trigger. Annie’s body stiffened, her toes curling as a violent wave of orgasm crashed over her. Her pussy walls began to spasm, clamping down on his thick shaft in punishing pulses. Annnir let out a long, shaky moan, her voice trembling with the power of her explosive orgasm, her entire frame shuddering against him. 

Thwackthwackthwack…thwack. Thwack. THWACK—

Smoke let out a loud, triumphant roar, his own control snapping. He leaned back, grabbed two fistfuls of her heavy breasts, and drove himself in one last time, burning his length to the absolute hilt, his balls slapping hard against her as he began to unload. Smoke groaned, a deep, primal sound of surrender as he pumped thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside her, filling her to the brim while she continued to shake and sob beneath him, completely undone by his strength. 

It wasn’t just hot.

 it was a wet, clinging weight that soaked through cotton shirts in minutes, making clothes stick to skin like a second, suffocating layer. The Mississippi sun was hateful this particular early evening, beating down on the dusty crossroads outside of Clarksdale until the red earth cracked and the horizon shimmered with a dizzying mirage. The only sound that dared to break the oppressive silence was the relentless, screaming drone of cicadas, a noise that felt like it was drilling straight into the skull. Horse flies flew too close because of the donkeys that wandered. Mosquitos feasted happily on any inch of exposed skin it could find. 

Smoke stood by the rusted fender of a Ford Model A, his frame a hard, unyielding silhouette against the bleached-out landscape. He was dressed for business, despite the weather. He wore dark slacks held up by heavy leather suspenders, a wool coat draped over his broad shoulders that he refused to shed, and his cap pulled low, casting a deep shadow over his eyes. His face was a mask of neutral stone, but beneath the surface, he was vibrating. 

In the back of the truck, crates of corn liquor were piled high, hidden under coarse, grit-covered burlap. Gasoline and stale, sharp whiskey wafted up, mixing with the smell of hot dust and the metallic tang of the gun oil on his fingertips. The drivers from the north were jittery, their eyes darting toward the road every time a bird flew over, terrified of a federal raid or a knife in the back. 

Smoke’s jaw was clamped so tight it ached. He didn’t like the way this deal was dragging. He didn’t like the nervous sweat on the drivers’ brows or the way the wind carried the faint, distant sound of a dog barking. Or even how the few bushes across from them moved in a particular direction. Every second they sat exposed at the crossroads was a second too long. The law or the klan—no difference—the pressure was building in his chest, a primal, violent urge to just start shooting until the silence returned. 

Smoke needed to ground himself before he snapped and painted the red dirt with someone’s brains. 

Without a word to the men, Smoke stepped away from the truck, his leather ankle boots crunching on the dry earth. Smoke retreated into the shade of a sprawling cypress tree, its limbs draped in ghostly curtains of Spanish moss that swayed in a breeze that offered no coolness. The shade was dim and damp, smelling of rotting vegetation and ancient water. 

He reached into the inner pocket of his wool coat, his gloved fingers brushing against a piece of soft, white cotton. Smoke pulled it out. It was the bloomers Annie had worn the night he’d claimed her on the vanity, the fabric still holding the ghost of her shape.

 Smoke closed his eyes and pressed the cotton hard against his face, burying his nose in the fabric. He inhaled with a sharp, greedy lungful, hunting for her. 

There it was.

The concentrated, raw musk of her. The salty, pungent tang of her pussy. The deep earthy scent of the root herbs she worked with and the underlying sweetness that belonged only to his Annie. It was a scent of warmth, of plush skin and hidden depths. A stark contrast to the grit of the Delta. 

As he breathed her in, the tension in his shoulders dropped an inch, and the red haze in his vision cleared. Smoke clung to the fabric, his nostrils flaring, feeding on the essence of his wife to keep the monster in his blood at bay. The scent of Annie’s pussy was the only thing that kept him sane.

The spell was broken by the sharp, clack-clack-clack of polished oxfords hitting the hard-packed dirt. Smoke didn’t jump, he wasn’t the type to startle, but his hand snapped shut over the white cotton, shoving the bloomers back into his coat pocket in one fluid, violent motion. Smoke stepped out from the cypress shade, his face returning to that impenetrable slab of granite, just as a flash of cream-colored linen emerged from the heat haze.

Stack strolled toward him, looking like he’d just stepped off a street corner in Chicago rather than a dusty road in the Delta. He wore a tailored three-piece suit of pale cream that defied the grime of the crossroads, a silk tie the color of bruised plum knotted perfectly at his throat. A gold pocket watch chain looped across his vest, glinting aggressively under the harsh sun. He walked with a loose, swinging gait, a smirk playing on his full lips, his fedora tilted at a rakish angle that screamed confidence. 

“Lawd have mercy, Smoke,” Stack called out, his voice a smooth, honeyed drawl that vibrated with amusement. “You look like you fixin’ to bury a body or start another war. Why you standin’ in the shade lookin’ all moody? You gon’ let the heat rot ya’ brain.” 

Smoke just stared, his deep brown eyes tracking his brother’s every movement. The two of them stood there, identical mirrors of the same blood and bone but where Smoke was a closed fist, Stack was an open hand, ready to steal whatever wasn’t nailed down. 

Stack stopped a few feet away, smelling like expensive cologne and imported tobacco, clashing with the smell of corn liquor and horse manure in the background. Stack leaned back, hooking his thumbs into his trouser pockets, his gaze drifting from Smoke’s rigid posture to the sight.

A tell-tale bulge in the inner pocket of Smoke’s coat. 

Stack’s eyes sharpened. He knew that look. He knew the way Smoke’s nostrils flared when he was trying to hold onto something that didn’t belong to the world around them.

“You got a little secret tucked away in that coat, don’t you?” Stack teased, his voice dropping closer, invading Smoke’s personal space with a playful boldness. “Sum’ sweet. Sum’ that smell like home and magnolia. You lookin’ all stressed out, but I reckon you found a way to keep your temper from boilin’ over.” 

Smoke’s jaw tightened, a muscle leaping in his cheek. 

“Get ya’ head right, Stack. We got a shipment to move.” 

Stack laughed, a bright melodic sound that felt out of place in the oppressive silence of the crossroads. He reached out, his fingers grazing the lapel of Smoke’s coat, a daring, risky move that would have gotten any other man’s arm snapped. 

“I’m just sayin’, brother…you holdin’ onto that scent like a dyin’ man hold a prayer,” Stack whispered, his eyes dancing with a forbidden curiosity. “Make a man wonder just how sweet Annie’s been lately. Make me wonder if she still wearin’ them little lace things that make her hips look like a damn miracle.” 

Smoke’s hand twitched toward the grip of the pistol at his hip, his gaze darkening into something predatory. The brotherly bond was there, but beneath it lay a jagged edge of possession and rivalry. Stack didn’t flinch, he simply grinned wider, his eyes locked on Smoke’s, savoring the danger. He loved pushing Smoke. Loved seeing the disciplined enforcer struggle to keep the beast on a leash. 

“Move the crates, nigga.” Smoke commanded, his voice a low, guttural warning.

Stack winked, stepping back with a flourish of his linen jacket.

“Whatever you say, Big Brother. I’ll handle the drivers. They shakin’ like leaves in a storm and I’m just the man to charm ‘em into movin’ faster.” 

As Stack turned to lean the jittery men back to the Ford, he cast one last glance over his shoulder. He didn’t see the bloomers, but he could practically smell the musk of Annie clinging to Smoke’s clothes. A hunger ignited in Stack’s gut. Not just for women, but the thrill of taking something that belonged solely to the most dangerous man in the county. 

The shipment was handled with frantic energy that only comes from men who know the law—or worse the mob—is breathing down their necks. Stack spent the next hour orchestrating the chaos, his voice cutting through the humidity like a whip, directing the drivers and the muscle with a practiced, theatrical flair. He looked every bit the pretty gangster, leaning against the fender of a black Model A, flicking ash from a gold-tipped cigarette while his eyes never truly left his brother. 

Smoke was a ghost in the midday sauna, moving between the crates with a heavy, focused routine. He pointed, shoved, and stared. But Stack noticed the way Smoke’s hand stayed glued to the pocket of his coat, his fingers that were once gloved twitching against the fabric. It was a tell. Smoke was anchored to something, tethered to a scent and a memory that made him dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with the pistol on his hip. 

Once the last crate was loaded and the dust from the departing cars settled back into the red Mississippi clay, the stillness of the crossroads beat down on the twins. Stack watched Smoke wipe grime from his forehead with a handkerchief, the muscles in his broad shoulders bunching under his coat. 

He’s starving for her, Stack thought, a sudden, sharp hunger clawing at his own gut. 

It wasn’t just about the woman. It was the possession of her. 

Stack had always been the one to charm the gals in juke joints, rent parties, dance halls, and Chicago clubs alike. The one who could slide into a bed and out of it before the sun rose, leaving nothing but a scent of expensive cologne and a broken heart. 

But Annie…Annie was different. She wasn’t a gal; she was a force. He remembered the way she looked the last time he’d seen her, that midnight-brown skin glowing, her hips swaying under a heavy cotton skirt, the sheer, plush weight of her body promising a blaze no city girl could mimic. 

Stack pushed off the car, his polished oxfords crunching on the gravel. He walked toward Smoke, his gait loose and predatory. 

“You practically vibrating, Smoke,” Stack drawled, his voice a low, teasing vibration. “I can see it in your eyes. You ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout the money or the liquor. You thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ home to that woman. Thinkin’ ‘bout how she feel when she pressed up against you. All soft…heavy skin…”

Smoke stopped dead, his gaze snapping to Stack. The look was murderous, a warning that the leash was fraying. 

“Shut ya’ fuckin’ mouth ‘bout my woman, Stack. I swear to’ god that’s my last time warnin’ ya’.” 

Stack didn’t shut it. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes dancing. “I bet she smell like heaven and earth all at once. I bet she got that musk on her now that get in a man’s blood and stays there. I can smell it on ya’, brother. You drenched in her.” 

The admission sent a jolt of electricity through Stack’s spine. He imagined Annie in the house, perhaps stripped down to her shift in the midday heat, her large breasts straining against the fabric, thick thighs rubbing together as she moved through the kitchen. He imagined the scent of her—that floral, herbal musk with the raw, salty tang of a woman’s sultriness. 

The thought made Stack’s own dick stir. A thick, heavy pressure building behind the fly of his cream-colored trousers. His dick, curving to the left, throbbed against the fabric, demanding release. He wanted to know if she tasted as rich as she looked. He wanted to know if her pussy was as plush and tight as the rest of her body suggested. 

“You outta line,” Smoke grunted, his voice a guttural warning. He stepped forward, his massive frame looming over Stack even though they were the same height. “You gon’ earn a spot next to our daddy if you keep talkin’ slick ‘bout Annie.” 

Stack just grinned, the expression sharp and hungry. He didn’t fear his brother, not technically, he thrived on the friction. He loved the idea that they shared everything. The same face, the same blood, the same hunger translated differently. If Smoke could have her, if Smoke could keep a piece of her tucked in his pocket to sniff like a gahdamn dog, then Stack wanted a taste. He wanted to steal a moment, a scent, a touch. He wanted to see the look on Smoke’s face when he realized that some things were too delicious to be kept by one man alone. 

“I’m just appreciatin’ the finer things, Smoke,” Stack whispered, his eyes flashing. “And Annie…she the finest thing in this whole damn state. Hell, this whole damn South. Ain’t no woman touchin’ Antoinette. Just givin’ my sis in law her praises, Big Brother. After all…I’m the least of ya’ worries. Heard some niggas in town talkin’ bout her.” 

Smoke grit his teeth. Jaw working.

“What they sayin’? Sum that’s gon’ get ‘em bumped off ain’t it?” 

Stack took a hit of his gold-tipped cigarette before passing it to Smoke. “Fed to the eagles.” 

Smoke clocked it. Filed it away. He walked off, his stride heavy and possessive. 

Stack followed a few paces behind, his mind racing, the seed of a dangerous desire now fully planted. He wasn’t just looking for a thrill anymore; he was hunting. He wanted those bloomers. He wanted the scent of her arousal. He wanted to slide his hand where Smoke’s had been, to feel the weight of her hips and the heat of her skin, and to do it all while the most dangerous man in Mississippi was just within earshot. 

The black Model A roared, kicking up a violent cloud of red dust that coated the roadside weeds in a fine, rust-colored powder. Stack sat behind the wheel, one hand draped casually over the top of the steering wheel, his gold rings glinting in the harsh Mississippi sun. He looked every bit of city slicker, his silk shirt open at the collar to let the breeze hit his chest. He glanced over at Smoke, who sat rigid in the passenger seat. Smoke was a statue of tension, his jaw locked, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as if he could force the car to move faster through sheer will. 

“I’m tellin’ you, Smoke, I gotta stop at that stand up ahead,” Stack drawled, his voice smooth as bourbon. “I got a hankerin’ for some tamales. Real ones. Those things they try to sell up in Chicago? Pure cardboard. Ain’t nothin’ like the taste of home to settle a man’s nerves.”

Smoke didn’t even turn his head. His voice came out as a low guttural rasp, stripped of any patience. “Annie’s got a pot of greens and corn pone on the stove. You can eat at the house.” 

Stack let out a short, sharp laugh, a glint in his eyes. He shifted gears, the engine whining as he pushed the car harder. He could feel the heat radiating off his brother. The raw, pulsing desperation. Smoke wasn’t thinking ‘bout no food. He wasn’t even thinking ‘bout the successful drop-off or the stacks of cash tucked away. 

Stack watched the way Smoke’s thick fingers gripped the leather upholstery. He knew that look. He knew the way Smoke got when he’d been away from Annie for too long. Like a starving dog finally seeing the door to the kitchen. 

He ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout no corn pone, Stack thought, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

He could practically see it in his mind: Smoke bursting through the front door, not even stopping to take off his hat before he had Annie pinned against the wall. He knew Smoke had been sniffing those bloomers like a lifeline all day, but the cloth wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted the real thing. The dripping scent of pussy that only a man who owned her could truly savor. 

“You in a mighty big hurry, ain’t ya’?” Stack teased, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a provocative whisper. “I can practically smell it on you, brother. You ain’t worried ‘bout my belly. You worried ‘bout gettin’ your face between them thick thighs ‘fore the sun go down.” 

Smoke’s head snapped toward him, dark eyes flashing with a warning that would have sent any other man running for cover. “Tired of putting your face in sour, street rat pussy, Stack? Ain’t my fault you so stuck on being up North while you missin’ out on some real pussy. Since when you had fresh cooch? That watered down, industrial muff got you sayin’ shit that’ll get you tore up. I don’t play ‘bout Annie.” 

Stack grinned, leaning back into the seat, feeling his own dick throb against the fabric of his trousers. “Why you think I’m back? I miss home, Smoke. Miss my southern gals with sweat on they backs and a hot pussy.” 

The though of Annie and those wide hips, heavy breasts…fuck. The way she always smelled like magnolia and raw woman. It was starting to coil in his gut like a snake. He didn’t want the tamales anymore. He wanted to see the look of possessive rage on Smoke’s face when he realized that Stack was thinking ‘bout the exact same thing.

“I’ll skip the stand,” Stack conceded, his voice humming with a dangerous kind of excitement. “I’m startin’ to get hungry for somethin’ a bit more…substantial.” 

The car crunched to a halt on a path, the engine giving one final, shuddering gasp before falling silent. The house didn’t just sit on the land, it seemed to emerge from it. It was tucked away behind a curtain of weeping willows and towering magnolias that shielded it from the prying eyes of the road. 

To get to the house, one had to pass by Annie’s shack—a small, weathered structure with the fragrance of dried sage, sulfur, and old earth. It was a place of business and mystery, where the locals came for root-work, protection charms, and cured for ailments the white doctors wouldn’t touch. The shack was cluttered with bundles of hanging herbs and jars of murky liquids, a stark contrast to the sanctuary that lay just beyond. 

Smoke’s home was a testament to his silent, disciplined nature. He hadn’t just built a shelter, he had carved a fortress of peace out of the Delta mud. It wasn’t a typical sharecroppers house with a sagging porch and a leaking roof—what they once lived in. This was a sturdy, wide-planked house made of deep-grained cypress and heart-pine, the wood polished. Smoke had built the porch deep and wide, with heavy railings that could support a man’s full weight, overlooking a lush garden of collards, peppers, and medicinal blooms that Annie tended with a spiritual precision.

The greenery swallowed the house in a protective embrace. Thick ivy climbed the walls, and the air felt different around him. It was cooler, dampened by the shade and the smell of damp earth and blooming jasmine. It was a place of absolute privacy, a hidden kingdom where Smoke could shed the skin of the killer and the enforcer and simply be a man. 

Stack stepped out of the car, his polished shoes hitting the dirt. He looked at the house and felt a sudden, sharp pang of envy that had nothing to do with the architecture. He thought about where he was staying. A cramped, miserable boarding house in town where the walls were as thin as parchment. In that place, he could hear every cough, every argument, and every creak from the room next door. 

His bed at the boarding house was a torture device. It was a rusted iron frame with a mattress that had long since surrendered its stuffing. Every night, Stack felt the cold, jagged press of the metal springs digging into his ribs and hips, leaving him restless and wired. He spent his nights tossing and turning in the humid dark, his mind racing, his body aching for a comfort he couldn’t buy. 

Looking at the solid, loving sanctuary Smoke had built for Annie, Stack felt the hunger in his gut intensify. It wasn’t just the house he wanted. It was the warmth inside it. He imagined the soft sheets. The smell of spices and vanilla and musk clinging to the curtains. The plush, heavy curves of Annie moving through the rooms. 

Smoke was already moving toward the door, his pace quickening, his broad shoulders tense with the need to be inside. He didn’t look back at his brother. He was a man returning to his altar, and Stack felt like a thief stepping into a temple, already planning how he might steal a piece of the holiness for himself. As they approached the porch, the scent of simmering greens wafted through the air. Stack felt his pulse hammer on his throat. 

Smoke pushed the heavy, cypress door open, the hinges making no noise because it’s well-oiled. The interior of the house smelled of the savory food Annie was preparing, beeswax, cedar, and the lingering, sweet scent of Annie’s skin. It was a clean, honest space, devoid of the cluttered chaos of the boating house. The furniture was all Smoke’s handiwork. Heavy oak tables and chairs with smooth, rounded edges, built to last a century. 

Stack stepped inside, his shoes clicking softly on the polished heart-pine floors. He reached up and plucked the fedora from his head, holding it by the brim as he let his gaze wander. Usually, Stack’s visits were brief. Business transactions and quick drinks before he headed back to the noise of the Windy City. But today, the tranquil silence pulled at him. He felt the weight of the boarding house sliding off his shoulders, replaced by a sudden, sharp curiosity. 

Stack noted the small details.

The hand-woven rugs from the coast. The jars of preserved peaches on the sideboard. The way the natural light filtered through the lace curtains. It was a home built on love and stability, things Stack traded in but rarely owned. 

As he drifted further into the house, his eyes were drawn toward the hallway. Their bedroom door was pushed ajar, leaving a gap that felt like an invitation. Stack paused, his brow quirking as he peered inside. 

Even from where he stood, he could smell a heavy scent of musk and spent passion. The large iron-frame bed dominated the space. The sheets were a chaotic, rumpled mess of white cotton and linen, twisted as if a storm had passed through them. The floorboards around the bed were marked with scuffs and scratches, evidence of frantic movement and heavy weight. 

But it was one thing that caught his attention. 

The headboard.

Tied firmly to the rusted iron bars were several strips of fabric.

Silk scarves. Sturdy cotton ribbons. All knotted tight. 

They weren’t decorative. They were functional. Worn slightly at the edges from strain. 

Stack stared at the scarves. A slow, knowing grin spread across his full lips, dimples popping out like tiny craters. 

He imagined Annie’s wrists bound tight against those bars, her wide hips arched and shaking as Smoke hammered into her from behind. He could almost hear the wet slap of skin on skin and the way Annie’s voice would break into a shaky, desperate moan when she was pushed to her limit. 

Stack felt a sudden, hot throb in his trousers. His own thick dick stirred against the crotch of his tailored slacks. The thought of his brother using those ties to hold Annie still, to possess every inch of her lush body without resistance, sent a jolt of raw envy through him. 

He wondered if Annie liked the feeling of being trapped. Being completely overtaken by Smoke’s brutal protective hunger. 

“You just gon’ stand there gawked or you gon’ settle?” Smoke’s voice rasped behind him, low and warning. 

Stack quickly shifted his stance to hide the bulge in his pants. He turned back to his brother, the charm sliding back into place like a mask, though his eyes remained dark with the image of those scarves. 

“Just admirin’ the craftsmanship, Smoke.” Stack purred, his voice smooth like the silk of his tie. “You always did have a knack for buildin’ things that last.” 

Smoke let out a short, dry huff of a laugh, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his brother. “Ain’t my fault you stayin’ at that shit hole,” he rasped, his voice like gravel grinding together. “You got more coin than sense, Stack. You can afford to stay somewhere decent, like that fancy-ass apartment you keep up in Bronzeville.”

Stack just shrugged, a playful, knowing glint in his eyes as he leaned against the doorframe. He knew the game of visibility. “That’s exactly why I don’t, Smoke. In a boarding house, I’m just another traveler passing through. I blend in. Safer to be a ghost when you haulin’ the kind of heat I do. Too many eyes.” 

Smoke grunted, not entirely convinced but knowing Stack’s paranoia was usually rooted in profit. He stepped further into the space. 

“You don’t gotta play ghost in your own blood’s house. You can always sleep in the guest room when you come visit. Save yourself the fleas.” 

Stack let out a smooth, melodic chuckle, shaking his head. 

He looked back toward the bedroom door—and those tied scarves—with a flicker of desire crossing his face.

“I appreciate it, truly. But I don’t want to be a bother. Besides,” Stack added, his voice dropping into a suggestive purr, “I fuck too much to be in here violating ya’ home. I’d have some poor girl screamin’ your roof off by midnight, and I know how ya’ get ‘bout ya’ peace and quiet.”

Smoke reached up and peeled off his coat, tossing it over a chair, followed by his cap, which he set firmly on the sideboard. Stack followed suit, sliding his tailored jacket off his shoulders with a fluid motion, reveling the crisp lines of his shirt and the gold chain glinting against his chest. 

“Where Annie?” Stack asked, his voice softening, though the hunger in his gaze remained. 

“Finishin’ up at the shack,” Smoke answered. “Got a few folks comin’ for cleansing and roots ‘fore sundown.”

As they moved toward the kitchen, the rich, savory scent of home hit them full force. On top of the black iron wood-burning stove, a heavy cast iron pot sat simmering, the lid rattling slightly as steam escaped. The smell of slow-cooked collards, smoked turkey, and seasoned cornmeal filled the air. It was the smell of Annie.

“I’m a go check the ice box.” Smoke grunted, his voice low and final. He didn’t look back as he stepped out the back door, the screen door slapping shut with a sharp crack. 

 The moment the door closed, Stack didn’t waste a second. He reached over to the stove, snatching a piece of warm, buttery corn pone from the platter, and slid into a wooden chair. He leaned back, one leg crossed over the other. He was chewing slowly, tasting the salt and corn, but his mind was still vibrating from the sight of the bedroom. After he finished, tongue skimming his teeth, he started flipping a silver coin with a clink-snap against his palm. 

Then, the front door groaned open. 

Stack stopped mid-flip. The coin landed on the table with a dull thud, forgotten. 

Annie walked in, and for a heartbeat, Stack forgot how to breathe. 

It had been months since he’d seen her, and the woman had only grown more lush, more devastating. She was dressed for the end of a workday at the shack, wearing a deep indigo cotton dress that clung to every magnificent curve of her frame. The fabric was stretched tight across her heavy, rounded breasts, the buttons straining slightly against the swell of her chest. As she moved, the skirt hugged the massive, sweeping flare of her hips and the plushness of her thighs, swaying with a weight that made Stack’s mouth go dry. 

She had an ivory-colored lace shawl draped loosely over her shoulders, and her hair was wrapped in a vibrant orange head tie that made her deep brown skin glow. She looked like a goddess of the earth, smelling of dried sage, sweet vanilla, and that raw feminine musk that always seemed to radiate off her skin. 

Stack’s gaze didn’t just linger on Annie. 

It devoured. 

He watched the way her backside moved under the indigo fabric. The heavy jiggle of her rear with every step she took toward the kitchen. He could almost imagine the feel of those wide hips under his palms. The way her soft, ample flesh would spill over his fingers if he dared to grab her. He felt his dick stir and thicken in his trousers, a sudden hard ache pulsing in his groin as he imagined her stripped bare, plush body shaking under him. 

Annie stopped dead in her tracks the moment she spotted him.

Her expression changed from exhaustion to a cold, sharp irritation. Annie didn’t hide her distaste; her eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. She knew exactly how Stack looked at her. Like a starving man looking at a feast. 

Bastard. 

“Elias,” she said, her voice a rich, smooth contralto that vibrated right through Stack’s chest. “I didn’t know Smoke had let the circus back into the house.” 

Stack’s eyes slid down from her face to the deep valley of her cleavage and then back up. He gave her a slow, lazy grin. That smile usually worked on every woman from Clarksdale to Chicago, but he knew Annie was different. He knew she carried a blade in her bodice and a spirit that couldn’t be bought or charmed. 

He wanted her. Goddamn if he didn’t. But he wasn’t stupid enough to push her to the point where she’d carve a piece out of him. 

“Now, Annie,” Stack purred, his voice dripping with a forced sweetness. “No need to be so cold. I just came to visit my dear brother and sis in law.” 

Annie ignored the flirtation. She stepped further into the kitchen to set her bag of herbs on the table. As she leaned over, the fabric of her dress pulled taut across her backside, outlining the deep, rounded cleft of her ass. 

Stack’s eyes locked onto it, pupils dilating. He was practically eye-fucking her, his gaze tracing the curve of her waist down to the heavy swell of her hips. He could almost smell the torridity coming off her, the scent of a woman who spent her days working with the earth and her nights being thoroughly claimed by a man like Smoke Moore. 

She straightened up, catching him staring. 

She just looked at him with a mixture of pity and disgust. 

“How you been, Elias?” Annie asked, though the question sounded more like a formality than actual interest. “Still runnin’ scams and dodging the law in the North?”

Stack let out a low, humming chuckle, his eyes never leaving the heavy swing of her hips as she moved. He leaned back in the chair, the silver coin dancing across his knuckles again, though his focus was entirely on the way that indigo fabric strained against her plush thighs. 

 “I been aight, Annie. Just a bit lonely for some of that Southern hospitality,” Stack purred, his voice sliding over her like silk.

Annie didn’t give him the satisfaction of a blush. She just gave him a look of pure, unadulterated disdain, her nostrils flaring. She knew he was tracing every curve of her wide hips and the deep swell of her breasts, and she treated his gaze like a smudge of dirt on the floor. 

“You still got a mouth that runs faster than your brain, Elias,” she snapped, turning her back to him to reach for a pot on the stove. 

The movement was a gift.

As she reached upward, the hem of her dress lifted just enough to reveal the tops of her thick, deep brown thighs and the tantalizing curve of her rear. 

Stack’s dick throbbed violently against his trousers. 

He was practically salivating, his gaze locked onto the jiggle of her backside. 

Then, the screen door creaked. 

Smoke stepped back into the kitchen, his presence instantly swallowing the room. The second his dark eyes landed on Annie, the hard, neutral mask he wore for the world shattered. 

He didn’t say a word. 

Smoke walked straight up to her, ankle boots thudding on the pine floor, and wrapped his massive arms around her from behind. 

Stack watched, a mixture of envy and heat flooding his gut as Smoke claimed her. Smoke’s large, calloused hands didn’t falter. They slid down from her waist and clamped firmly onto her plush ass, squeezing the heavy flesh with a possessive, bruising grip. He pulled her back hard against his groin, letting her feel the thick, curved length of his dick pressing into the small of her back. 

Smoke buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, his mustache brushing against her glowing skin. He looked like he was claiming his prey, eyes closing as he breathed in her scent of vanilla and musk. He began to whisper something low and guttural in her ear—something private and filthy—that made Annie’s shoulders drop and a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. 

Annie glanced sideways at Smoke’s coat, her eyes flickering with a secret understanding.

The realization that Smoke was carrying her scent around like a drug while currently squeezing her real-life ass made Stack’s head spin.

“Lord have mercy,” Stack interrupted, his voice loud and jarring, breaking the spell. He stood up, tossing the coin one last time and catching it with a sharp snap. “Ya’ll gon’ get to the fuckin’ or can I find out when I get to eat? ‘Cause I’m starvin’ over here, and the smell of that corn pone is startin’ to make me crazy.” 

Annie rolled her eyes. She leaned back into Smoke’s chest for one last second before pulling away. She shot Stack. Look that promised a blade to the ribs if he kept talking, but the irritation was tempered by the lingering heat Smoke had just sparked in her. 

Annie turned back to the stove, the heavy cast iron skillet sizzling with corn pone and fried catfish. She moved with grace. She slid the golden-brown cakes onto a platter, the scent of grease and salt filling the kitchen. 

Stack leaned against the counter, a glass of liquor in his hand that he’d fetched from the Model A, sipping slowly. His eyes were locked on Annie, tracing the deep dip of her waist and the way her breasts strained against her blouse as she leaned over to scoop collards. He took a swallow of the whiskey, the burn in his throat matching the heat pooling in his groin as he watched her. 

Smoke, meanwhile, hadn’t moved far from her side. He stood silent and strong, dark eyes locked onto his wife. He wasn’t just looking, he was devouring her. His eyes traveled from the curve of her calves up to the heavy swell of her rear, his jaw tight. He looked like a man who wanted to throw the food on the floor and bend her over the table right then and there.

“Here,” Annie spoke with a hushed tone, setting the heavy ceramic plates down on the pine table. 

She stepped behind Smoke, her soft, warm palms landing on his broad shoulders. She began to knead the hard knots of muscle there, her fingers digging into the tension he always carried. Smoke let out a low, grunt, his head tilting back slightly as he surrendered to her touch. 

As the men began to eat, the contrast was stark. Stack ate like a city man—precise, talking between bites, his movements theatrical and light. Smoke ate like a starving animal. He tore into the catfish and corn pone with a primal intensity, his movements efficient and heavy, focused entirely on the fuel and the woman rubbing his shoulders. 

Annie watched them, her intuitive gaze flickering between the two identical faces. She could feel the static in the room, the way Stack’s energy was a jagged line of desire and mischief, while Smoke’d was a heavy, possessive weight. 

“So, Elias,” Annie said, her voice smooth but cautious. “How long you plannin’ on stayin’ in town this time?” 

Smoke didn’t stop chewing, but he answered for his brother, his voice so deep that it vibrated through Annie’s palms. 

“He stayin’ at that boarding house in town. The one with the thin walls and the bedbugs.” Smoke repositioned his hips, his shoulder brushing against Annie’s chest. “I told him he could take the guest room here. Told him he ain’t need to be payin’ a stranger for a drafty room.” 

Annie’s hands paused for a fraction of a second. She didn’t say a word, but her silence was word enough. The thought of Stack sleeping under her roof brought a familiar tightness to her chest. It wasn’t that she feared him, but she knew the wake of trouble he left behind. Stack was a whirlwind of bad decisions and risky gambles, and whenever he rolled into town, he spent half his time trying to convince Smoke to dive headfirst into some new, dangerous venture. She didn’t want that energy in her sanctuary; she didn’t want the instability he brought leaking into the peace she and Smoke built. 

But she felt the way Smoke leaned into her. She knew how much the silent man missed his twin, how the bond between them was a tether that Smoke refused to cut, no matter how many times Stack played the fool. 

Annie sighed, her fingers resuming their massage. She looked over at Stack, who was watching her with a smug, knowing grin, looking every bit the charming rogue who knew exactly how to push her buttons. 

“Now, Elias,” Annie said, her voice softening into a forced sweetness, “don’t be stubborn. You know that boarding house is a pit. Why don’t you just stay here wit’ us? I’ll make sure you got a hot, cooked meal every night you in town.” 

Stack’s grin widened, his eyes flashing. He didn’t look at the food on his plate. He looked straight at Annie. His gaze slid down to her chest and back up with an appreciative, playful hunger.

“Well now.” Stack purred, his voice dripping with honey. “If the lady’s promisin’ to feed me…I’d be a fool to say no. 

The dinner plates were cleared, the remnants of the meal still steaming on the wood-burning stove. As soon as the screen door clicked shut behind Stack, leaving him to retrieve his bags from the boarding house, the playful jagged energy Stack brought with him evaporated, replaced by the heavy, grounding inferno that only existed between Smoke and Annie. 

Smoke didn’t waste a second. He reached out, his large calloused hand wrapping around Annie’s waist, and with one firm tug, he pulled her plush body down onto his lap. Annie let out a soft oomph, her heavy hips settling securely against his muscular thighs. She rested her arms on his broad shoulders, her espresso-brown skin glowing against the fabric of his shirt. 

“Thank you for lettin’ him stay, baby,” Smoke whispered, his voice low and gravelly. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. “I know he a handful. Promise you, it won’t be long. Just ‘til he gets his head right.”

Annie exhaled, a long sigh that made her large breasts brush against his chest. She ran her hands over his slicked hair, settling them at the nape of his neck where she drew lazy circles with her thumbs. 

“I know he your blood, Smoke. I ain’t blind to that. But tell your brother he better be on his best behavior while he under my roof. I got a root that’ll put him in line and make him as quiet as a church mouse if he start stirrin’ up trouble for you.” 

Smoke let out a rare, huffing sound—almost a laugh—and tilted his head up. His deep brown eyes were dark, hooded with a hunger that had nothing to do with the meal they’d just finished. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that started tender but quickly turned possessive, his tongue sliding against hers with a primal urgency. 

As they broke for air, Smoke kept his lips brushed against her ear, his breath causing her to shiver as it ticked her ear. His voice dropped to a filthy, desperate whisper that sent a jolt of electricity straight to Annie’s core.

“I can’t stand it, Annie,” Smoke groaned, his hand sliding down from her waist to squeeze the lush curve of her ass. “Those draws I been keepin’ in my coat…the scent done gone dry. I spent all day sniffin’ ‘em just to keep my mind on you, but they don’t smell like you no more. They ain’t fresh.” 

Annie’s breath hitched. The sheer hunger in his tone, the way the most feared man in the county sounded like a starving dog begging for a scrap, made her pussy quiver violently. She could feel the sudden rush of arousal between her thighs, her own juices beginning to soak into the cotton of her underwear.

“You a damn animal,” she whispered, though she arched her back, pressing her softness deeper into his lap.

“I am for you,” Snoke growled, his hand migrating forward, fingers hooking beneath her skirt and slithering up to cup her fat pussy in the palm of his hand. It was hot to the touch and moist. “I need a fresh pair. I need ‘em soaked in you, Annie. I need to smell that sweet pussy fresh off ya’ skin ‘gore I lose my goddamn mind.” 

Annie slid side-saddle across Smoke’s thighs. The movement caused her heavy breasts to sway and her wide, plush hips to grind against him. She reached down, her fingers hooking into the lace edge of her bloomers, and slowly peeled them down. She didn’t stand up. She just slid the fabric down her thick thighs and off her feet. Her swollen, dark pussy was now within reach just beneath her indigo skirt.

Smoke didn’t waste another second. He snatched the fabric from her hand with a desperation bordered on feral. He pressed the damp cotton deep into his nostrils, inhaling sharply, his eyes closing as he drank in the concentrated scent of her. 

Annie let out a low, throaty moan, her hand sliding down to find the massive bulge in his pants. Smoke was rock hard, dick as thick as a forearm and straining against the fabric. She gripped him, squeezing the heavy length of him, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat through his pants. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear, her voice dropping to a filthy, honeyed whisper. 

“I got ‘em extra drenched just for you, Smoke…I been in that shack all day, just sittin’ wit’ my legs open…thinkin’ ‘bout how you fucked me the other night. Thinkin’ ‘bout how you stretched me out ‘til I couldn’t walk straight. Left me sore and achin’ in all the right places.” 

Smoke let out a low growl, his grip tightening on the bloomers, bunching the fabric in his fist as he breathed her in. The image of her alone in her shack, leaking for him, sent a surge of desire through his veins. 

“You like that, baby?” Annie breathed, her fingers kneading his thick dick “can you smell it? Can you smell how much I gushed for you?” 

Smoke didn’t respond with words. He gripped Annie’s thick, brown thighs and hoisted them up, sliding them over his broad shoulders. He dropped to his hands and knees on the floor, positioning himself perfectly between her legs. Annie leaned back in the chair, her breath hitching as she felt the sudden, cool air hit her soaking wet slit, followed immediately by the searing heat of Smoke’s mouth. He dove in with a primal hunger. Smoke didn’t tease; he dove straight in, his long, thick tongue lashing out to swipe across her soaking wet slit. 

Smoke groaned into her meaty pussy, the taste of her hitting him like a drug. He tongued her deeply, tasting the thick, creamy mess she’d been brewing all day, his tongue swirling around her clit before sliding deep between her folds—flat against her labia and curling right at her opening—to lap up every drip of her arousal. He was eating her with a starving intensity, breath heavy against her sensitive flesh, confirming exactly how much she had been longing for him.

 He was devouring her. 

His tongue, thick and powerful, lashed against her clit with a punishing force that made Annie’s entire body shudder. Smoke sucked her clit deep into his mouth, creating a suction that sent electric shocks straight to her core. The sound was wet and obscene. Loud, slapping noises of his tongue meeting her drenched flesh and the guttural groans he made as he tasted the concentrated musk she’d been brewing all day. 

Driven by a need to see the devastation he was causing, Annie reached down and hiked the hem of her skirt up past her waist, bunching the fabric in her fists. She looked down, her eyes widening at the sight of her husband’s head buried between her legs, his jaw working tirelessly as he licked her clean, only for her to gush more juice the moment he touched her. 

The pleasure was becoming too much to contain. 

With shaky fingers, Annie began to undo the buttons of her blouse. She popped them one by one, her chest heaving with every ragged breath. As the fabric parted, she relaxed her breasts from the constraint of her bra, letting them spill out with a heavy, satisfying bounce. 

Lush, and heavy, with a deep rich brown hue that shimmered under the natural light filtering in. They were full and pendulous, swaying slightly as she breathed, the weight of them pulling downward in a way that emphasized her womanly curves. The skin was smooth as fine silk, stretching over the ample volume of her chest. At the center of each breast sat a wide, dark areola, the color of bitter chocolate, circling nipples that were hard and peaking, straining for touch. They were thick and prominent, resting to the intensity of the oral pounding she was receiving below.

Smoke looked up for a split second, his face glistening with her juices, eyes dark as he stared at her swinging breasts. He let out a low, growl, then dove back in, his tongue swirling deep inside her pussy, tasting the creaminess of her while Annie arched her back, heavy breasts bouncing with every thrust of his tongue. 

Her voice broke into a series of high, desperate moans. 

Smoke didn’t pull away. He started talking against her drenched folds, his voice vibrating through her thighs. He sounded possessed, his words muffled by the plush folds of her pussy as he continued to lap at her with a relentless, starving need.

“Goddamn, Annie…I can’t get enough of this pussy,” he groaned, the words wet and thick. 

Smoke pulled back just an inch, his lips glistening with her cream. His dark eyes looked up at her with so much adoration. 

“I spent all day thinkin’ ‘bout it, baby. Every minute I’m out there, I just ache to get my face back in this sweet, soaking wet pussy.” 

Smoke dove back in, tongue delivering a long, sweeping stroke from her bottom to the top, slurping loudly as he sucked her clit so deep she could feel the length of his tongue swipe her button as he sealed his lips. The sound was nasty. A wet, schlick-slurp that filled the kitchen. 

“I need it, baby,” Smoke rumbled, his voice breaking into a growl against her flesh. “I need this pussy to ground me. I need to taste you, smell you…fuck, you taste like heaven and sin all at once, woman. I could eat yiu for a lifetime and still be starvin’ for more.” 

Annie let out a jagged. High-pitched moan, her head snapping back against the chair. The sensation of his tongue lashing her clit while he whispered filth into her folds was driving her to the edge. Her hands flew to her heavy breasts, her fingers digging into the lush flesh. She gripped her own tits, squeezing, the weight of them spilling between her fingers as she kneaded them. 

She watched him from above, her eyes hazy with lust, seeing the way his shoulders bunched and flexed as he worked. She began to roll her hard, chocolate-colored nipples between her fingers, pulling on them in sync with the suction of his mouth. 

“Elijah…oh, Lord, Elijah,” Annie whimpered, her voice shaking. She arched her back, pushing her wide, plush mound harder against his face, demanding every bit of his tongue.

Smoke responded by intensifying the assault. He began to sick her pussy with a cyclone-like force, his cheeks hollowing as he slurped her juices up, making loud, messy sounds. He was tearing her fat, fuckin’ pussy up, his tongue swirling and poking deep inside her, tasting the thick, honeyed musk of her arousal. 

“My beautiful, thick-hipped woman,” Smoke mumbled with a shaky voice that vibrated against her clit. “This pussy the only thing keepin’ me sane. I love how you gush fa’ me, baby. I love how you taste. Give it all to me, Annie. Just leak all over my damn face.” 

Annie’s moans turned into shaky cries. She squeezed her breasts tighter, nipples peaking and straining as she felt the orgasm building, thick thighs trembling on his shoulders while he continued to eat her like she was the only meal he’d ever known. Like the corn pone, catfish, and collards ain’t settle his hunger. 

Smoke’s voice had gone from a rumble to a command, a raw, demanding groan. He didn’t just want her pleasure; he wanted her surrender. He gripped her thick, plentiful thighs, fingers digging into the meat of her legs to hold her wide open, pinning her firmly against his face. 

“Cum on my tongue, Annie—cum fa’ me, baby, gimme it girl I’m workin’ hard for it where my gushy mess at, baby, give it to daddy.” Smoke barked, the words muffled by her soaking wet folds. “Cum right now. I wanna feel you shake. Paint my tongue wit’ that sweet cream.” 

Smoke repositioned his attack, his tongue becoming a weapon of precision. He started to flick her clit with a rapid, punishing speed then his lips created a tight seal around her, sucking her into his saliva-filled mouth. He would go back and forth between quick flicks of his tongue and tight sucks. Wet, slurp–pop, sounds. The sound of a man trying to drain every single drop of cum from her body. 

“Paint it, baby—fuck—give it to me.” Smoke commanded, voice deep and demanding and filled with so much hunger. “I wanna taste every bit of it. Pour it all over my fuckin’ tongue, baby, now—”

Annie was beyond words. Her head was thrashed back, her eyes crossed, and her fingers were practically bruising her own heavy breasts. Her thick, thunderous thighs clamped down on Smoke’s head tight. The command in his voice acted like a trigger, snapping the eruption that had been building in her core. 

“ELIJAH. Oh…my…God—bẹẹni, kan lara ki o dara, bẹẹni—ELIJAH!” Annie screamed, her voice cracking. 

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, a violent, racking explosion that started in her womb and radiated outward. Her pussy clamped down hard in his mouth, pulsing in powerful spasms that squeezed her juices out in thick, hot bursts. She felt herself gushing, milky–white flooding his tongue, painting his lips and chin in a glistening honeyed trail similar to coconut milk. 

Smoke didn’t pull away from the trap of her thighs. He leaned into it, lapping at her orgasmic floods, sucking and slurping the pulses of her climax as if he were trying to drink her soul. He groaned deep in his throat, a sound of pure, animalistic satisfaction, as he felt her body shudder and quake on his shoulders. 

“That’s it…yeah, paint it…give it all to me,” Smoke mumbled against her skin, his voice thick with lust. 

Annie’s muscles twitched because her thighs trembled violently. The aftershocks of the orgasm continued to ripple through her. She collapsed back into the chair, her chest heaving, breasts bouncing with every ragged breath and shaky exhale. She looked down at him—her husband, her rock—his face drenched in her musk, eyes dark and looking up at her with a look that told her he was far from finished. 

Smoke rose up from between her spread thighs, knees planted firm on the kitchen floor as he stayed right there between them. His big hands came up and cupped the heavy weight of her breasts, palms sliding underneath to lift and cradle them. Both hands wrapped around the plush fullness, fingers sinking into the squishy give as he pushed them together and angled the wide dark areolas straight toward his mouth. 

Annie watched from above, breath catching as his lips brushed the first areola. Smoke kissed slow and open–mouthed, pressing warm, wet kisses all across the dark circle before moving to the thick nipple itself. His tongue flicked out, tasting the pebbles skin, then he sealed his lips around it and began to suck. 

The pull was steady and deep. He sucked in a rhythm that matched the throb still pulsing between her legs, tongue pressing up against the underside while his lips worked in a tight seal. Every few pulls he released with a wet pop, only to switch to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. Back and forth he went, sucking one nipple hard until it stood shiny and stiff, then moving to the other, leaving a trail of spit connecting them. 

Annie moaned low in her throat. The suction sent sharp sparks straight down to her clit, each strong pull making her pussy clench around nothing. She felt the wet, heat of his mouth and the firm drag of his tongue circling and flicking while he suckled. The pressure was building until it bordered on too much before easing off just enough to start again, sending goosebumps over her skin and a tickle down her spine. Her heavy breasts bounced slightly with every switch, the air cool from his spit hitting her wet nipples before his hot mouth claimed them once more. 

“Elijah…” Annie breathed, one hand sliding over his slicked hair as he kept going, sucking and releasing…sucking and releasing, big hands keeping her tits aimed exactly where he wanted them. “te siwaju, mase duro, Elijah…”

She was telling him to keep going. 

He swirled his tongue around the thick stiff tip of her nipples, teasing the nerve endings until she gasped, then he’d plunge it back in, drawing the flesh tight. 

He was keeping her right on the edge. 

“Fuckin’ love these big ol’ breasts, baby—”

“I love the way you make love to my breasts wit’ that mouth—”

“Yeah?” 

“beeni, yes…”

“I eat up every inch of you, baby, you know that—”

“I do, yes—Daddy—yes, I do—”

Smoke used his teeth lightly, grazing the fleshy, ample sides of her pendulous breasts, creating a sharp contrast to the wet, sliding, heat of his tongue. Smoke was working her breasts like they were the only thing keeping him alive, big hands squeezing the plush undersides, pushing the heavy mounds upward to give his mouth better access. 

Annie was completely undone. The words she tried to form died in her throat, replaced by broken, airy whimpers and trembling moans. She couldn’t find the breath to tell him how much she loved it, or to beg him not to stop. Her mind had gone blank, reduced to nothing but the sensation of his mouth. Every time he switched breasts, the sudden rush of cool air on the wet, swollen nipple made her shiver, only for the heat to return a second later as he claimed the other side. 

The suction was so intense it felt like he was pulling the very spoil out of her through her chest. The sensation radiated downward, triggering a heavy, pulsing and in her drenched pussy. Annie felt the wetness leaking from her, dripping down her thighs, while her breasts felt heavy and engorged, tingling with a fierce, electric blaze. 

Smoke looked up for a solid second, pupils dilated and eyelids low like he was drunk off her body. His lips were covered in a mixture of spit and her pussy juices. He saw her dazed expression, her head lolling back, her chest heaving. He let out a grunt and a hum and dove back in, sucking her nipples with an even more aggressive hunger.

Smoke was determined to keep her in this state of mindless, shivering bliss and keep her pussy wet so he can get in it with one stroke and make her cream even more. 

Smoke sensed her peaking, his instincts sharpening. He latched onto her left nipple with a fierce grip, pulling the dark, swollen bud into his mouth. The sensation came in slow draws, each one lingering longer than the last. While he worked that breast, his fingers reached up to grip the right breast, his thumb and forefinger catching the other stiff nipple and twirling it, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers.

The dual sensation—the deep, wet heat of Smoke’s mouth on one side and the firm, twisting friction on the other—was too much. Annie let out a broken, high-pitched keen, her hips bucking instinctively against the air. She was completely undone, her mind a gaze of deep-brown skin and the overwhelming presence of her husband.

“Smoke…oh god, Smoke,” she whimpered, her voice shaking and thick with lust. Annie reached down, her fingers brushing against the hard, heavy ridge of his dick pressing against his pants. The feel of him—thick, long, and pulsing with a need that mirrored her own—sent a fresh wave of wetness crashing through her. 

Annie couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. The need to taste him, to feel that massive length in her mouth, becaus an obsession. She began to plead, her voice dropping a guttural rasp. 

“Smoke…please, baby…please let me,” Annie begged, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps. “I need it. I need to suck you…let me taste you, Smoke. Please, let me suck ya’ dick.” Her eyes were pleading and glazed. “I’m beggin’, Daddy…let me get on my knees. Let me take it.” 

Smoke let out a grunt. He stepped back, pulling away from her plush breasts, leaving her nipples swollen, dark, and glistening with saliva. He stood tall, his imposing frame casting a wide shadow over her, but the bright Mississippi sun that early, summer evening streamed through the kitchen windows, bathing his brown skin with rich, gold undertones in a warm light. 

Smoke reached down and gripped the hem of his shirt. He lowered his suspenders from his shoulders. He started unbuttoned his shirt, eyes never leaving Annie’s face. 

“It’s okay, baby…daddy gon’ give you this dick, aight? You ain’t gotta beg me, baby. This dick belong to you. You take this dick, hear?” 

The light hit the hard planes of his abdomen, highlighting the ripple of his muscles and the deep, rich tone of his brown skin.

Annie, still breathless and trembling in the chair, watched with wide, glazed eyes as he stood before her. Her heart hammered against her ribs, pussy throbbing with a wet, heavy pressure that made her feel like she was melting into the wood of the seat. She reached out with shaking hands, her fingers fumbling with the buttons on his pants. She could feel the heat radiating off him. Primal. Masculine. Smelling of tobacco, musk, and raw desire. 

Her fingers popped open the button and she slid the zipper down with a slow, agonizing rasp. As she reached inside to hook her fingers into the waistband of his underwear, pulling the fabric down and away, his dick sprang free with a heavy thud against his lower belly. 

Annie froze. Her breath hitched in her throat.

The natural light from the window hit him perfectly.

It reflected off the smooth, taut skin of his shaft. 

His dick was a masterpiece of masculine power. 

Thick. Long. Pulsing with a life of its own. 

The skin was a deep, dark brown, stretched tight over the engorged veins that coiled around the length like vines of temptation. The head was a swollen, blunt crown, glistening with a so much pre-cum it left behind a long, slimy string that was still connected to his underwear. It sparkled like a dining against the dark velvet of his flesh. 

Annie stared. Mesmerized by the way it curved slightly to the right. A heavy, authoritative arc that promised to fill every fucking inch of her. The sheer size of it made her mouth water; just looking at the thickness of the base…where it joined his muscular thighs…made her imagine the feeling of it stretching her wide, splitting her open and hitting the very back of her womb.

A wave of pure, unadulterated lust crashed over her. 

The size of his pleasure stick…

Standing proud and rigid in the golden light made her feel small and greedy. She felt a primal urge to serve him. To wrap her lips around that massive head and feel the pulse of his heartbeat in her throat. Her pussy gave a violent, needy squeeze, leaking a fresh torrent of slickness down her thighs as she gazed up at the man who owned her soul and body. 

Annie had memorized every vein. Every ripple of muscle. The way the sunlight danced on the wet tip of his dick, knowing that in a few moments she would be tasting every bit of it. Her voice was a fragile, trembling thing, barely a whisper as she looked up at him from her knees. Her eyes were glossy, wide with a mixture of awe and hunger. 

“I ain’t never seen nothin’ so beautiful in my whole life,” Annie whispered, her voice shaking with the intensity of her arousal. 

Her fingers wrapped around the thick base. As her fingers circled, the tips barely closed around the girth, her palm pressing against him. As she began to stroke him, her movements were slow and delirious, her gaze locked onto the way his dark skin slid over the engorged veins. Annie looked up at him with a look of pure, submissive devotion, her expression screaming that she couldn’t believe he possessed such a massive, powerful piece of meat. 

Smoke let out a sharp, jagged breath, his head snapping back, adam’s apple bobbing, a wave of pleasure crashing through him. He was ruined. The contrast of her soft, supple hand gripping his rigid dick was almost too much to bear. He looked down at her—his lush, opulent wife, her heavy breasts swaying and her face filled with worship—and felt a surge of primal dominance. 

Annie leaned in, her breath hot against his skin.

 She started with a long, wet lick from the base all the way up to the crown. She moaned deep in her throat, a sound of pure satisfaction as she tasted him. 

“My big, strong man,” Annie whispered against his flesh, her voice thick with lust. “Got such a big dick…such a beautiful, big dick.” 

She licked him again, more insistently this time, swirling her tongue around the swollen head and catching the bead of pre-cum. She was praising him with every wet sound. Every shaky breath. Treating his dick like a holy relic. She looked up at him again, her lips glistening with his pre-cum and her spit, her eyes pleading. 

“You so big, Smoke,” Annie groaned, her hand tightening its grip, pumping and bouncing that meaty dick in her grip. “I just want it…I want all of this dick inside me. But I gotta taste ya’ first. I gotta serve ya’…”

Smoke groaned, his hips giving a small, involuntary twitch forward. He reached down, his hand burying itself in the fabric of her headwrap, tilting her head back so he could see the sheer desperation in her eyes. He loved the way she looked at him. Like he was a god. Like his dick was the only thing in the world that mattered. 

“Then get it, baby,” Smoke growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Open that pretty mouth and take every inch of it.”  

She opened her mouth wide, her lips parting in a wet, eager circle as she leaned forward to take him. She started by swirling her tongue around the broad, weeping head of his dick, tasting the thick bed of pre-cum that clung to his slit and wouldn’t stop leaking. She let out a muffled moan of approval, her eyes fluttering shut for a second as she savored the taste of his skin. 

Then, she slid forward, taking the head and the first few inches of the shaft into her mouth. The sheer girth of him stretched her lips tight, filling her oral cavity completely. She loved the feeling of being stretched, the way her cheeks puffed out slightly to accommodate the massive thickness of his meat. She knew exactly how Smoke liked it. He didn’t want a gentle touch. He wanted to feel her struggle and succumb to his size. 

Annie started to suck. 

She used her tongue to massage the ridge of the glans—his most sensitive spot—creating a wet, slapping sound every time her lips broke the seal to gasp for air.

Slurp. Pop. Shlick

The noises were raw and vividly resonant. 

Annie focused on the underside of the shaft, flicking her tongue over the vein that pulsed like a living thing against her palate. As she worked her way deeper, she felt the back of her throat tighten. She pushed past her limit, gagging slightly as the head of his dick hit the back of her throat. Instead of pulling away, she leaned into it, her eyes watering, her nose closer to his pubic hair the more she tried. 

She loved the feeling of him claiming her mouth. The way he dominated her breathing. 

She began to bob her head. Sliding up and down the length of him, throat working hard to swallow as much as possible. Nose pulling in air so she wouldn’t choke. Lips and jaw muscles working to keep a tight ring around his shaft as she sucked. 

Smoke was losing his damn mind.

He gripped the fabric of her headwrap tighter, knuckles bulging, guiding her with a firm hand. His hips twitched forward instinctively, driving himself deeper into her wet mouth. He loved the suction she created. The way she slurped and sealed his dick, pulling at him with a needy intensity and a slow, roll of her neck that made his toes curl in his ankle boots. 

“Yeah, like that, baby…do it like that,” Smoke groaned, his voice a jagged rasp. “Suck it…take all this meat, you such a greedy lil’ thing.” 

Annie responded by increasing the suction, cheeks hollowing out as she pulled on him. She used her hand to grip the base of his dick, pumping in sync with her mouth, ensuring that every single inch of him was being stimulated. She could feel the vibrations of his groans traveling through his dick and into her jaw. 

Annie looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes dazed and devoted, watching the way his face contorted in pleasure. 

She knew the signs. The way his breath became short and shallow. The way his thighs began to tremble. 

She sped up, her tongue working frantically around the head while she sucked the shaft with a powerful force. The sound became a wet, messy symphony of lubrication and lust, the squelch of her saliva coating his dark stick as she worshipped him. She was determined to drain every drop of pleasure from his massive frame. 

Smoke’s hand clamped tight onto Annie’s headwrap, his fingers digging into the fabric to anchor her firmly in place. He stopped letting her set the pace and took complete control, his hips beginning to drive forward in a slow, punishing motion. 

He started fucking her mouth, the thick rigid length of his dick sliding deep into her throat with every thrust. 

Annie looked liked she’d been crying for hours—eyes puffy, spit-covered, cheeks sunken and lips puffy from all that damn sucking—and Smoke loved it. 

His face was a mask of raw, unfiltered pleasure. 

His features contorted, eyes squeezed shut as he felt the wet, tightness of her mouth gripping him. A low, jagged groan ripped from his chest. Smoke was shaking, powerful thighs trembling with the effort of holding back the tide, but the sensation of her tongue swirling around the head while her throat squeezed the shaft was driving him over the edge.

“Goddamn, Annie…” Smoke rasped. “You suck it so fuckin’ good…mouth feel like heaven…so tight…so wet…”

Smoke thrust deeper, forcing a muffled, throaty whimper from her. He loved the way she surrendered her mouth to him. The way her eyes fluttered in devotion as she took every inch of his girth like a good wife supposed to. Smoke could feel his dick pulsing violently inside her mouth, the veins throbbing against her tongue, engorged to the absolute limit. 

Then, she grabbed for his balls. His heavy balls. They were covered in spit. Annie used her fingers to massage his wet balls like they were fine jewels. A soft, rotating motion that tickled in the best way. 

The pressure in his loins became an unbearable ache, a white–hot tension that demanded release. Smoke increased the speed, his thrusts becoming shorter, harder, and more desperate. The sound of his dick sliding in and out of her mouth became a wet, slapping symphony—shluck, squelch, pop—as he drove himself into her. 

“Look at me. Look up at me while you suck my pole. I wanna see your eyes when I cum.”

Annie did just that. She flicked her gaze up at Smoke, giving him a slow, tantalizing blink like a femme fatale flapper. 

Smoke arched his hips forward at the same time Annie sucked. His fingers dug into her plush shoulders. He sounded like he was fighting for air. 

“I’m gon’ cum, Annie,” Smoke growled, his grip on her headwrap tightening until his fingers shook. “I’m ‘bout to blow—baby—the it all…take every fuckin’ drop of me—”

Smoke gave one final, deep plunge, burying himself to the hilt in her throat, his hips locking against her face as the first violent wave of orgasm crashed through him. 

maybe I’ll write a part two.

Poem: Lines of a Nasturtium by Anne Spencer

@championshipshade @plan3tch1ld @lizbehave @shereeluvssinners @cloviacreem-18 @aretasreads @harleycativy @miss-spiders-sunny-patch @shanthefemalerapper @alaysiunaadams23 @shamansha @smokingangelhoe @themindfulwriter16 @venusisrising @margepimpson @fairysoulja @chromexbarbie @pinkangelwing222 @rolemodelshit @d1gitalb4rbie @astr0babez @solarssins @secretisme4 @ofwgkta-maur @brownskincheyenne @shecuteforaewok @callmemckenzieee @prettypinkprincess29 @mmbee675 @vibrantlymellowknight @itsspixiedusst56 @kleighw86 @bananajoeclone @sintizc @richonne4life @dammitj4net @kaystacks17 @midnightmemoirsofher @addelinedarling @abcedfy @brownsugarcoffy @imperoyalblue @girlmath101 @dezzy154 @softy212 @overzealouszeitgeist @blaqwidow91 @christinabae @mirathebookworm @theblulife @cocochannelmoi @kindofaintrovert @tatelangdonsweater @og-goddesstrill

[hopefulandromantic]

Yeah, I need to be involved with all three of em. Immediately.

[hopefulandromantic]

Another Night

Featuring: Elias “Stack” Moore

Hi, everyone who’s reading this! 😚 Slight disclaimer, I in no way, shape, or form consider myself a writer (as you can see from my incorrect dialogue and em dash usage) 🤣 This is my first time posting work on Tumblr and my first time posting work in general since I was around 15 y/o! 😭 I also never wrote/published smut before, so not too much on me!

I was just bored and decided to write a small prompt about fine, trifling ass modern Stack fucking a fine, equally trifling ass woman that he’s trying to deny deeper feelings for. Ava’s just a name that I chose at random, so she can be any archetype of black women that you imagine!

I appreciate any and all respectful feedback! This will most likely be my one and only piece of work that I publish cause I just wanted to see what it’s like! 😂🫶🏾

TW: Cheating/Infidelity!

Ava cooed helplessly, clenching the sheets as if they’re the only thing anchoring her to reality, at the moment.

The side of her face is pressed firmly against the plush mattress, drool seeping from her parted lips. Her breathy pants and moans are coming out shaky and clipped—pleasure encapsulating her entire being.

“Mhm.” Stack hummed in satisfaction at her current state. So pliant. Receiving everything her man’s failed to offer. His gold teeth caught the moonlight that slipped into his dimly lit room, the mischievous grin on his face proud and unmoving. “He don’t fuck you like this, huh?”

Kase, the boyfriend that has completely slipped her mind since Stack’s filled his space for the night. Ava whimpered, shaking her head weakly.

“No, baby.” Ava moaned, reaching underneath her and rubbing her swollen clit. “Fuck, he don’t.” She whined, her pussy clenching around Stack as if it’s signaling him that she’s reaching her limit.

“Nah.” Stack murmured, swatting her arm from under her and pinning her hands over her head.

He placed his full body weight on her and caged her against the bed—pressing her firmly against the surface and reminding her that she isn’t going anywhere and, most importantly, that he’s in control.

“Ooh!” Ava sobbed, tears accumulating at her waterline. The sudden change in his position has her feeling even more full—his dick sinking even deeper due to how connected their bodies are.

“I want my pussy to cum from this dick alone.” He breathed out into her ear, making Ava shiver and cry out as he began grinding into her slow and deep. “You know how I like it. You had me mistaken for yo’ nigga, just now, Ava?” He drawled, the Southern heat in his low, seductive tone making Ava’s eyes flutter.

“No, Stack.” Ava sobbed, reaching back and desperately gripping at any part of him to cling to. “I-I’m sorry, baby.”

“I know, mama.” Stack muttered with a dark chuckle. “Can’t be fucking up like that. You know damn well you don’t need to do no extra work when I’m fuckin’ you. All I gotta do is—.”

Stack started slamming into her harder, drawing a muffled scream from Ava. He grunted into her neck, biting and sucking every part of her skin his mouth has access to.

Ava’s legs trembled and twitched beneath him, and her toes curled tightly as she babbled mindlessly. She doesn’t know what the hell she’s saying, and Stack doesn’t either—too busy losing the control he was sure that he had.

“Elias.” Ava mewled, reaching back and gripping his hair with her right hand as Stack intertwined their fingers with her left.

“I got you—ah, fuck.” Stack grunted, his thrusts growing sloppy and desperate. “Just give it to me. Give me everything. Please.” He moaned and pleaded at the same time, his grip tightening in their connected hands.

They both released their cares and stress into the night. Besides, it is theirs. No Mary, none of Stack’s extra baggage, and no Kase.

After it was all said and done, Stack rubbed Ava’s back, staring at the ceiling in deep thought as she snored softly against him, fingers instinctively tightening against his skin while she dreamt about whatever’s been brewing in her subconscious lately.

Stack looked down at Ava’s face pressed against his chest, tearing his gaze away with a deep sigh when he began to feel that all too familiar feeling gnawing in his chest.

Stack ultimately shifted and got comfortable, closing his eyes and letting sleep overpower the nagging realization that’s been beating his ass lately and he’s yet to come to terms with.

He’ll get around to it another night.

[fictionalytmenhavemyheart]

Chilllll I'm easy asf

[hopefulandromantic]

😭😭😭!

[hopefulandromantic]

Good Neighbor (2)

Featuring: Elijah “Smoke” Moore

Warnings: Smut + Age Gap (Smoke is 35 and Divine is 23)! Rm: Don't read if that makes you uncomfortable! 🫶🏾

Lawd, I didn't expect y'all to be so interested in these two! 😭 I hope this ending lives up to the hype...*posts and scurries back to my lair*

Between the soothing sounds of the rain pattering against the wall to wall windows of his bedroom and the moans of the gorgeous woman on top of him, this is the most relaxed Smoke’s been in a while. 

He just returned to Chicago from a week long business trip to New Orleans, and in his desperation to shed the stress of his and his brother's affairs, he called one of his "girlfriends", Malia, to be waiting at his door as soon as he got back.

The back of Smoke’s head sunk further into his pillows, and his eyes fluttered closed. His chest heaved along with his heavy breaths, the feeling of Malia, wet and warm around his length, sending his teeth sinking into his plump, bottom lip. 

When she picked up the pace, pulling herself closer and closer to her peak with her head thrown back in ecstasy, Smoke's hands flew to her toned waist, gripping tight.

"Mm, Fuck, Di." Smoke groaned out without thinking.

The room went completely silent and still. 

"Shit!" Was all Smoke's brain could come up with. It's been well over five months since he slept with Divine. Their relationship literally went right  back to normal, after. Why the fuck is he slipping up and saying her name, right now, of all times?

"You just called me “Di”." Malia said softly, trying to catch her breath. Smoke remained neutral, attempting to gaslight himself out of the hole he just dug for himself.

"No, I didn't."

"Smoke, don't fucking play with me. I'm not stupid!" Malia spat, her angry eyes flicking over his calm and collected features. Smoke gave up the act, releasing a deep sigh while rubbing his hand over his face. "Di? Divine across the hall?You told me you wasn't fucking that girl!"

"I'm not."

"Oh, so you’re just thinking 'bout fucking her?" Malia both asked and implied at the same time.

"Not at the moment." Smoke honestly spoke, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “C’mere. Let’s just—.” He started, grabbing her arms softly and pulling her closer.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Malia spat, snatching away from him and scrambling out of the bed, fuming. "Do you hear yourself?!" Malia yelled, the rise in her tone instantly making him cringe and close his eyes in attempt to combat the rising irritation in his spirit. "You're making zero fucking sense! I'm already overlooking the two other bitches, then here you go fucking one you wanna keep under wraps for some reason!"

"I fucked her one time, Malia." Smoke attempted to tiredly explain. "I ain't touch her since."

"You expect me to believe you, Smoke?!"

"What I gotta lie to you fa?" Smoke asked, face twisting up to show his confusion. "I promise, if I was still fuckin' her, you'd know 'cause I don't care 'bout you knowin', Malia.”

"You know what?" Malia scoffed, shaking her head as she jumped into her sweats. "I should've been done with your sneaky, conniving bullshit. You're just like Stack's trifling ass, and I'm a fucking dumbass for convincing myself that you any different."

 "Is dissin' my brudda really necessary?" Smoke grumbled in response, watching her finish getting dressed in silence with an attitude so potent that he can practically feel it radiating off of her. "My bad." He spoke once she was done, testing the waters to see just how pissed she is.

"Fuck you!" Malia sneered, snatching her purse from his nightstand. "Fuck your lil girlfriend, too!" She barked out behind her, storming out of his room.

"Aye, watch yo’ mouth! She ain’t my girlfriend, either!" Smoke loudly snapped, staring in the direction she went in, irritated.

The sound of his door slamming shut made his jaw tighten, and his eyes squeeze shut. After taking in a deep breath and releasing it, in attempt to calm his nerves, he shook his head and rolled out of the bed.

After trudging to his bathroom in defeat, Smoke snatched the barely used condom off of his softening dick and tossed it into the trash before looking at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t help but to laugh humorlessly at his luck before deciding to prepare for a long, hot shower.

Smoke scrubbed off Malia and the disappointment from him missing his opportunity to catch a nut, did the rest of his usual nighttime routine, slipped on a pair of black sweat-shorts and black Nike slides, and slinked across the hall with a shirt he got in New Orleans for Divine tight in his grip.

It didn't take Divine long to open the door after hearing his signature knock, the younger beaming uncontrollably at his presence.

Smoke's eyes raked her body that's clad in a pink cropped tube top and blue cotton panties, signaling that she's either getting ready for bed, or was already in bed.

"Hey, Elijah!" Divine greeted, pulling him in as he smiled at her excitement. "You just got back?" She asked, closing and locking the door.

"Like an hour ago." Smoke muttered, stepping closer and trapping her against the wall of the short hallway leading up to the door. "What you doing up, pretty?"

"Nigga, it's not that late." Divine chuckled, "Who slammed the fuck out your door earlier?"

"Man, you heard that bullshit?” Smoke scoffed. “Don't worry 'bout that." He grumbled, shaking his head as he recalled the verbal tussle between him and Malia. "Here go the shirt you asked fa." He held it up to show her the design.

"Oooh!" Divine grinned, snatching it and holding it against her body. After comparing it to her body, she checked the size and smacked her lips. "Smoke, you know damn well I don't wear a fucking large ." She gritted, hitting him in the face with it.

"Damn, girl!" Smoke laughed, "My bad.”

"Whatever." Divine rolled her eyes, smiling softly. "I can work with it." She shrugged, tossing the purple shirt over her shoulder. "You need to be putting this bitch on your damn self." She fussed, pushing him back with a firm nudge to his bare chest and sashaying off.

"You just wanted to cop a feel." Smoke teased, smirking at the natural switch of her hips as he followed her.

"Oh, get over yourself, Elijah Moore." Divine muttered, face heating up. "You're really not gonna tell me who slammed your door?"

"If I tell you, you'll drop it?" Smoke asked, leaning against the doorframe of her dimly lit room that's illuminated by her soft, warm floor lamp in the corner of her room. 

"Probably not." Divine mumbled, glancing at him and shrugging as she brought a few of her anime plushies from her bed to her closet in attempt to make more room for Smoke.

"You know what? I admire yo' honesty." Smoke chuckled, walking over to her bed and making himself comfortable on the unoccupied side of it—propping himself up against the headboard with one leg hanging off the side of the mattress. "C'mere." 

Divine closed the door of her closet, before rushing over to her designated side of the bed, cozying up beside Smoke.

"Tell me." Divine urged, excited to know what she's been wondering for the past hour.

"Malia."

"Why?" Divine pried, leaning closer. "Wait, don't tell me, yet. We're talking about the one with the short red hair, right?"

"Yes, Divine. That's her." Smoke chuckled, pulling her leg on his lap and rubbing her ankle.

"I called her over, we started fuckin', and while she was ridin' me, I called her “Di”."

"Oh my God." Divine grimaced, horrified. "Why in the hell would you do that?"

"I have no idea." Smoke muttered, the back of his head hitting the headboard. "I guess that's what happens when you got somebody in yo' face every damn day."

"Nigga, you was gone for a whole week with no contact." Divine sassed, "You had seven fucking days to reboot your mind and get rid of me, while you tryna get smart. What Stack had you doing down there at them ports, any-damn-way? Don't even try to lie, 'cause I still got your location from when I was making sure you was at the right place to pick up my food, a few weeks ago."

"Thank you for remindin' me that you still got my location, so I cut that bullshit off, nosey ass lil girl." Smoke pointed, slitting his eyes as she smirked proudly. "Stack ain't have me doin' shit." He couldn't help but to chuckle at his brother catching his second stray of the night. "I went down there to handle shit for the both of us."

"Drugs." Divine simply implied, rolling her eyes and making Smoke quirk a brow in amusement. "Anyways, you got that woman thinking I'm hopping on your dick every other night!"

"What's wrong wit’ that?" Smoke asked, biting back a smile while him and Divine held a brief stare-off. "I'm just askin'." He held his hand up in surrender when he saw she wasn't backing down.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you." Divine accused, tilting her head.

"Who wouldn't?" Smoke asked, laughing incredulously. 

"You know what..." Divine trailed off, making a spectacle of turning on her side and fluffing her pillow with an uncontrollable smile on her face. "I'm going to bed." She turned her lamp down two more levels with the remote that was on her nightstand. "I suggest you do the same." She grumbled, making sure her scarf is secure around the sides and edges of her high, voluminous puff.

"I knew you liked our lil sleepovers."

"I just know when you bring your ass over here this late, it ain’t no getting rid of you." Divine bit back, giggling as she made herself comfortable under her covers. "Get under here and go to bed. You get irritating as fuck when you sleepy. Childish, too."

"I’m nowhere near sleepy." Smoke lied.

Sure enough, Smoke was knocked out within three minutes, and Divine quickly followed. Around the 3:22 mark in the night, Smoke continued to sleep soundly, but the thunder from a storm that stirred up while they slumbered startled Divine awake.

"Shit!" Divine gasped, clutching her chest and sitting up to look out her window at the heavy rain that's picking up by the second. As she settled down her heart rate, she noticed that Smoke's soft snoring ceased.

"You good?" Smoke rasped, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"Yeah, I just—." Divine started, chuckling nervously, "That scared the shit outta me. I don't like sleeping when the weather gets bad like this." She confessed, trembling softly.

"C'mere."

Divine wasted no time moving closer, allowing Smoke to hold her against him with a secure hold around her waist. She began playing with his chain and listening to his breathing to distract herself.

"When it stormed coming up, Stack used to do the same shit." Smoke muttered, chuckling at the thought. "I used to be dead asleep, and wake up to him climbing in my bed talkin' bout he scared. I never made him feel bad for doing it, but shit, it pissed me off most nights."

"How long he did that for?" Divine asked softly, giggling at the thought of her big, charismatic boss looking to his brother for comfort. Not to tease, but to show how adorable she found the confession.

"I think 'til he was like sixteen." Smoke replied, smiling softly as Divine pressed her forehead against his lips. "One night, he just slept through it. Another came, and he did it again. I eventually asked him 'bout it and he cussed me out, so I guess he just grew out of it."

"I hope I grow out of it, too." Divine expressed under her breath, pressing a kiss onto Smoke's cheek. "Thank you for making me feel better."

"That wasn't exactly the goal, but I guess you welcome." Smoke joked, chuckling when she kicked at one of his legs that's tangled in hers. 

"I'm surprised you ain't run him out, knowing you."

"I'm not as mean as you make me out to be."

"Oh, yes you are, nigga!" Divine countered, giggling when he barked out a laugh. "Ok, I'm lying. You have your rare sweet moments."

"Exactly." Smoke chuckled. "Stop tryna downplay 'em. Especially since one of them rare ass moments was lettin' you talk me into fuckin' you."

"Oh, please. You were being overly dramatic, anyway." Divine sassed, lightheartedly rolling her eyes. "Guess what, we did it and left it alone. You were so convinced that I was gon' get attached, and I ended up playing it cordial with your ass for damn near six fucking months!" She got loud and in Smoke's face towards the end of her statement, making the man smack his lips and turn his head while trying to hide the smile that's fighting to make an appearance on his face. 

"Whatever, man."

"Just loud and wrong." Divine teased, tilting her head and smirking. "You didn't expect me to "get down to business, then go 'bout my day", huh?"

"I know damn well you didn’t just quote me."

"I did." Divine calmly retorted. "Just as much as I loved you fuckin' the shit outta me, I loved proving you wrong even more."

"Hm." Smoke hummed, smirking softly. Oddly, he's impressed. "Well played."

"I know." Divine cockily remarked. "Now that we established that I won, can you please eat my pussy?" She pleaded, dropping the "tough guy" act and softening her eyes in attempt to convince him.

Fortunately for Divine, Smoke didn't need much convincing. Hell, he actually didn't need any.

Divine's ragged breathing filled the air as Smoke pinned her down by her inner thighs—her legs spread so wide that the position is giving his insatiable mouth plenty of access to every single inch of her pussy.

Divine's chest heaved and she cupped her fleshy breasts that she freed from the top that's now bunched around her waist and completely disregarded. 

The feeling of Smoke's tongue whipping against her clit in tandem with his ring and middle fingers sinking in and out of her slick slit pulled a loud gasp from her entire being, her hips jerking harshly. 

The pleasurable frown on her face intensified when she felt the thick digits twist inside of her and the pads of them start to massage the spongy upper wall of her pussy while sucking at her soaked, swollen clit sloppily.

"Oh my God, Smoke." Divine moaned out in awe, stars bursting behind her eyelids. 

Smoke hummed in response, his free hand moving up her body and gripping her breast roughly. The roughness of his warm hand added extra stimulation to her aching nipple and before she knew it, she was gripping his wrist and bucking her hips against the rhythm of his tongue and fingers.

The sloshing between her legs intensified along with the maddening pace of Smoke's fingers. That paired with his skilled tongue roughly swirling against her clit had her writhing like crazy.

"Just like that, Elijaaah!" Divine cried, toes curling and muscles tightening as an abrupt orgasm threatened to crash down on her with sheer force. "Oh my G—!" She breathed, shuddering hard and biting her bottom lip for dear life when it finally made impact.

When Smoke didn't let up, still pressing his fingers against the soft surface and sucking her clit tenderly, Divine choked on a sob, clamping her legs shut around his fingers and twisting her body with her hands gripping her pillows above her head.

Smoke chuckled at her current state, placing open mouth kisses on her soft, plump ass cheek and upper thigh with his fingers still buried inside of her.

Smoke opened her legs back up after she finally regained all her senses, and nestled himself between them. He cupped her face, staring into her dilated eyes as he removed his soiled fingers from her pulsing center and brought them up to her lips. Divine wasted no time opening her mouth to clean them—her tongue outstretched and ready.

"Good fuckin' girl." Smoke grunted, dick twitching at the sight of her sucking his fingers into her mouth and swirling her tongue around them as if they were his dick. "You want som' else in this pretty ass mouth, huh?"

"Mmhm." Divine hummed, looking at him from under her lashes.

Divine practically wrestled him onto the bed, the two eagerly swapping places. She excitedly tugged off his shorts and pulled the bunched up material from around her waist before settling between his legs and taking his dick into her hand.

Divine smiled with excitement and determination, her mouth already watering at the hot and heavy length of him in her grip. She bit down on her bottom lip as she got into a comfortable position on her stomach.

"Wait." Smoke muttered, brows furrowing. "You know what you doing?"

"Well, I never had any complaints, so...I think so." Divine uttered under breath, shrugging. 

She’s engaged with oral sex with both of her “boyfriends”, but they weren't as big as Smoke. Even the dildo that she practiced on in the past wasn't as big as Smoke. With that being said, Divine don't know how in the hell this is going to turn out, but she’s somewhat confident in her abilities.

"Nah, you sound too unsure for me." Smoke remarked, looking down at her skeptically. "Don't bite my fucking dick off, Divine, or I—."

"Hush!" Divine whined. "You're making me nervous, and if I get nervous—! I don’t fucking know what I’ll do!" She stammered.

Smoke closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to resist the urge to laugh at her being overwhelmed in this very serious, but unserious situation.

“Just relax, and take yo’ time.” Smoke encouraged, attempting to calm her down. “Don’t rush, and…watch yo’ teeth, please.”

"I’m not stupid. All I need you to do is just tell me when or if something feels off or unpleasant." Divine told him, eyes flicking up to meet his after observing every inch of him. "I think I can take care of you, though, Smoke." She muttered, more so to herself as she tightened the grip on his shaft. 

Divine dragged her warm, wet tongue along the underside of his dick, even pivoting it a little to trace a vein she encountered on her path. Smoke watched her intensely as she traced his tip that's slick with his pre-cum, her eyes fixed on him and surveying his facial expressions.

From analyzing the way Smoke gave her head during her first time, she concocted a routine by relating what was pleasurable to her to what she’s researched on blowjobs in general: focus on the tip, suck as much as you can, make it sloppy (but not too sloppy), stroke what you can't, and if you're feeling bold—try to deep throat him. 

When she acted out the routine on her two "boyfriends", they seemed to love it. The only thing that she had to tweak was giving the balls attention. The first one told her to during the act, and when she tested it on the second without him having to, he had zero additional notes. Divine felt like she cracked the code!

Unfortunately, it didn't dawn on her at the time that there's some men with ridiculous sized dicks, Smoke being one of them. For some reason, she definitely didn’t anticipate having to suck Smoke’s down the line, anyway (despite literally fantasizing about doing so).

When Divine sucked him into her mouth, she lowered her head, drooled, and focused on relaxing and adjusting her jaws to his size. When she brought her head back up, hollowing her cheeks for gentle suction, her tongue dragged against the velvety skin, making Smoke release a heavy breath that definitely went straight to her head.

The friction grew almost nonexistent, Smoke's dick glistening with saliva, and Divine's head bobbing up and down his shaft with ease despite her jaws already starting to ache. It probably would’ve bothered her if Smoke didn’t sound so sexy moaning and groaning in her ear. While gripping the base firmly with one hand and twisting in short turns, she fondled his balls tenderly with the other.

"Gahdamn, Divine." Smoke moaned deeply, the sound sending a jolt right to her clit and prompting her to press her thighs together tighter to relieve the pressure between them. When her eyes fluttered closed, Smoke gripped her hair—gentle, but firm. "Nah, look at me." He breathed, chest heaving with his eyes locked on hers. “You so fuckin’ sexy, Di. What the Fuck?”

The sight of his gorgeous, dazed face led Divine to feel bold, therefore, she stuffed as much of his dick into her mouth that she could handle. When his tip hit the back of Divine's throat, his eyes rolled back into his skull.

"Fu—uuck." Smoke brokenly moaned, his stomach caving in as Divine gagged lightly. She retracted her head and spat on his dick before slurping it up from all sides of his length breathlessly. 

When she began stroking the soppy tip while licking and sucking on his drenched balls with a soft, teasing moan, his hips began to rise from the bed. 

"Uh uh. Bring yo’ ass here." He growled, practically yanking her up his body.

Divine giggled at his urgency, straddling him as he smashed his lips onto hers in pure desperation. She moaned into his mouth, raising her hips and reaching beneath her to grab his dick. She guided it along her slit, pressing the tip against her drooling center. Divine lowered her body and the second it breached her slit, she whimpered and Smoke's teeth sunk into her bottom lip gently.

Smoke held her close, grumbling a groan into her cheek. His hands roughly kneaded the flesh of her ass as his tongue traced her jawline and settled on the skin just beneath it. 

When he began sucking the area, Divine shakily gasped at the descending warmth down her spine colliding with the stretch and fullness that's currently being inflicted on her pussy the more she struggled to fully seat him inside of her. 

Once she was so stuffed with him that she felt she could barely breathe, she rolled her hips in a futile attempt to adjust. Her head and upper body fell back as she tried to focus on loosening her body completely while also trying not to cum from the intense heat sitting inside of her fluttering walls. 

Smoke lapped at one of her sensitive peaks before sucking it softly, causing Divine to release a shaky gasp and dig her fingers into his pillowy coils. She panted pathetically, her hands moving to Smoke’s shoulders when he began to slowly guide her hips towards a slow, sinful rhythm while giving her other nipple the same treatment. The dull ache mixed with that all too familiar itch being relieved made her shiver and claw at his skin, moaning helplessly.

“There you go.” Smoke drawled, relaxing his upper body against the headboard when Divine picked up where he left off, all on her own. “Just like that, pretty. My good fuckin’ girl.” He whispered, licking his lips and admiring the sight of her on top of him from beneath his lowered eyelids. 

Divine’s richly toned skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, and her voluptuous breasts appears to be making an effort of putting on a show just for him—bouncing beautifully to her messy, yet efficient rhythm.

“Y-You feel s’good inside of me, ‘Lijah.” Divine shakily whined, gripping his forearms for dear life as tears streamed down her face.

When the tip of his dick began to feel too damn good against her sensitive cervix, she reached back and placed her hands on his knees with her mouth parted, opening her legs and bouncing harder.

“Yeah.” Smoke breathed, gripping under her thighs and humming in approval at the sight of her painting, and slicking his dick with her milky arousal. “Ride the fuck out yo’ dick, Di.” He encouraged, biting back a moan as his eyes flicked back up to her blissed out face.

Divine moaned pathetically in response, sucking her shaky bottom lip between her teeth when it dawned on her that she’s really fucking close. Smoke feels it. The tightening of her thigh muscles paired with the pulses of her greedy walls around his stiff length.

“E-Elijah, I—.” Divine stuttered, not even knowing what she was about to say, legs shaking harshly. 

Smoke shushed her and pulled her soft body against him while scooting down and bending his knees. He began to hungrily thrust up into her from below, releasing a deep moan into her neck as she clawed at his arms with a muffled sob. 

“Yes! God, yes!” She cried into his neck, tears and drool hitting his shoulder as her toes curled.

“You cummin’ fa me, pretty?”

“Yes, baby!” Divine mewled, lifting her head and nodding feverishly with her eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck me, daddy! Please, make my pussy cum!”

Smoke grunted roughly at her plea, grabbing the nape of her neck and kissing her passionately. Divine’s muffled moans grew louder and more high pitched as she struggled to keep up with the wild, messy lip lock. 

Before she knew it, an intense wave of euphoric pleasure washed over her, prompting her to disconnect her swollen lips from Smoke’s. Divine  shuddered hard against Smoke’s solid frame, her forehead rolling against his with a guttural moan. Her pussy pulsed and leaked pathetically, the feeling making Smoke’s brows bunch and a soft, breathy “fuck” leave his lips.

“Keep going, baby. Don’t fucking stop.” Divine breathlessly pleaded, locking her leg around Smoke’s waist when he flipped them both on their side. Smoke hummed deeply, driving his dick in and out of her blissfully sore cavern without abandon, gripping the back of her hair. “Mmm, cum all in my fucking pussy, Elijah.” She slurred, damn near delirious.

“Shit, Di.” Smoke moaned deeply, pressing his head against hers. He used his free hand to lift her leg from his waist and hold it up for better access, tightly gripping her ankle. “You want it?” He grunted, his control slipping by the second as his his dick throbbed readily.

“So fucking bad, daddy. I dream about it. I need it.” Divine panted, her breathing intensifying and eyes rolling back into her skull with each rough, sloppy rut. “Uhh! Elijah!” She squealed, her leg flexing in Smoke’s strong hold. She reached back and gripped hard, tugging the sheet of her bed from the corner while bucking through another body shattering orgasm. “Elijah!” She sobbed, issuing the final blow to Smoke’s composure.

Smoke released an animalistic grunt into her neck, bringing his hand down on her ass and pulling her lower half flush to him. He moaned in euphoric relief, teeth sinking into the flushed skin as Divine purred at the feeling of the hot spurts of cum filling her to the brim.

“Damn, that feels—.” Divine breathed out, a lazy grin spreading across her face as she began grinding down on his dick that’s still twitching angrily inside of her along with his muscles. “Fuck, Elijah.” She cooed, gripping her breast roughly and slithering her tongue into his mouth when he placed his on hers, gripping the back of her neck.

“You goin’ to sleep in here?” Smoke asked lowly when he noticed the silence that filled the room, leaning up to get a view of Divine’s face from where she’s sitting between his legs, just to see her looking right back at him.

The water in the expansive tub that was once boiling hot (per Divine’s request) has since reached a barely enjoyable warmth as an indicator of the amount of time that’s passed with them in it.

“Nah, I just noticed the heartbeat you left in my pussy’s almost nonexistent.” Divine muttered, smiling softly when Smoke snickered at her realization.

“You be takin’ this muhfucka.” Smoke gave her props, smirking proudly. “It’s just the aftermath that do yo’ ass in. Shit, you asked for it, though. Remember that?” He asked in her ear, laughing when she swatted at his face.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Divine blushed, shaking her head and giggling. “I don’t even wanna think about it, right now.”

“You need to be thinkin’ ‘bout how we never use a condom ‘fore God make an example outta us.” Smoke lightheartedly fussed, making Divine roll her head against his chest with a loud groan. “This the second time, Di.”

“I didn’t expect to get fucked, tonight!” Divine defended. “I promise, I’m usually prepared. I don’t get down and dirty without one.” She assured him, making Smoke hum. “Where’s your accountability? You usually wear ‘em, right?”

“Oh course.” Smoke said in a “duh” tone, chuckling. “You thought I was fuckin’ three different women raw, all this time?”

“Well….”

“Divine, yo’ concept of me is so fucked up.” Smoke grumbled, shaking his head. Divine laughed at the disappointment in his tone. “I ain’t even laughin’.”

“I was just playing, Elijah.” Divine groaned, looking back at him and cupping his face with a smile. “I wouldn’t even be fucking you if I actually thought you were sexually irresponsible.”

“Don’t play wit’ me like that.”

“Man, shut up, crybaby.” Divine smacked her lips, giggling when he wrapped his hand around the front of her throat. Smoke smiled softly when her hands flew to his wrist, pinching at it. 

A comfortable silence engulfed the room after their playful banter died down. Divine gazed straight ahead, loss in thought as Smoke’s hands caressed her thighs mindlessly under the water.

“You think we’re gonna end up doing this again, Smoke?” Divine asked softly, reaching under the water and finding his hand—pleasantly surprised when he wasted no time locking their fingers.

“Yep.”

“Wanna make a deal?”

“Depends on the terms.” Smoke teased, smirking and tapping his forehead against the back of her head. “Talk to me.”

“We use protection with everyone, except for each other.” Divine offered. “Like, it can be our little secret, you know?” She went on, looking up at him and smiling softly. “You’re gonna have to stop being selfish and pull out though ‘cause I’m not fucking messing with any form of birth control.”

“Hol on, you was begging me to nut in you.” Smoke laughed at her trying to rewrite the script. 

“Yeah, and you were too damn ready to do it.” Divine sassed, chuckling. “Ok, we can indulge like two times a month.”

“Hell no.” Smoke scoffed. “Four.”

“Three.”

“Three, then.” Smoke grumbled, smirking softly at his next suggestion. “Shit, If we going down that road, we might as well cut out our third parties altogether.”

“You don’t do attachments, remember.” Divine reminded him, looking up at him with a quirked brow. “That sounds pretty damn close to an attachment, Elijah. Just me and you? No one else?” She went on, grinning when he smacked his lips and narrowed his eyes at her. "You attached, Elijah?"

“Look, I agree to the deal, but only wit’ my negotiations.” Smoke stated, dodging her question and shrugging to indicate finality. “We doin’ this, or not?”

“You know what? Fuck it.” Divine blurted, throwing her hands up in surrender after giving it minimal thought. “I’ll do it for the plot. Let’s lock it in.” She held her hand over her shoulder for him to shake.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Smoke muttered, disregarding her hand and tilting her face up to meet his. 

The pair shared a slow, tantalizing kiss that sent chills down both of their spines. Once their tongues became intertwined, and Smoke’s touch grew to be outright pornographic, Divine moaned and quickly broke the kiss, shaking her head with a beaming smile. 

“What?” Smoke asked, grinning innocently as if he wasn’t trying to get Divine stirred back up. 

“Elijah, I’m fucking tired.” Divine stressed, giggling as she attempted to stand up on her wobbly legs. Meanwhile, Smoke’s eyes are dragging down her frame, admiring the way the soapy water is cascading down her luscious curves while biting back a smile. “Come help me with this shower, so we can take both our horny asses to bed.”

Smoke laughed and followed her out a few feet to the glass shower. After grabbing two washcloths from her shelf and making sure the water was to her liking, he walked her in with a tight grip around her waist, her arms around his neck, and their legs tangled together.

After Smoke slid the glass door closed behind them, Divine collapsed against him again, her face pressed to his damp chest.

“You’re a good neighbor, Smoke.” Divine murmured, hugging his waist tightly. “A good ass friend, too.”

Smoke cracked a soft smile at the praise, wrapping his arm around her neck and kissing her head to show his own usual, wordless appreciation in return.

A Good Neighbor, indeed…

And they live Happily Ever After (as FWB)! Yay! 🥰😭

If you're reading this, thank you so much for being here! ❤️

[irunfadesoverkenny]

#needthat

[hopefulandromantic]

#same #twins 🫦😭

[hopefulandromantic]

Good Neighbor (2)

Featuring: Elijah “Smoke” Moore

Warnings: Smut + Age Gap (Smoke is 35 and Divine is 23)! Rm: Don't read if that makes you uncomfortable! 🫶🏾

Lawd, I didn't expect y'all to be so interested in these two! 😭 I hope this ending lives up to the hype...*posts and scurries back to my lair*

Between the soothing sounds of the rain pattering against the wall to wall windows of his bedroom and the moans of the gorgeous woman on top of him, this is the most relaxed Smoke’s been in a while. 

He just returned to Chicago from a week long business trip to New Orleans, and in his desperation to shed the stress of his and his brother's affairs, he called one of his "girlfriends", Malia, to be waiting at his door as soon as he got back.

The back of Smoke’s head sunk further into his pillows, and his eyes fluttered closed. His chest heaved along with his heavy breaths, the feeling of Malia, wet and warm around his length, sending his teeth sinking into his plump, bottom lip. 

When she picked up the pace, pulling herself closer and closer to her peak with her head thrown back in ecstasy, Smoke's hands flew to her toned waist, gripping tight.

"Mm, Fuck, Di." Smoke groaned out without thinking.

The room went completely silent and still. 

"Shit!" Was all Smoke's brain could come up with. It's been well over five months since he slept with Divine. Their relationship literally went right  back to normal, after. Why the fuck is he slipping up and saying her name, right now, of all times?

"You just called me “Di”." Malia said softly, trying to catch her breath. Smoke remained neutral, attempting to gaslight himself out of the hole he just dug for himself.

"No, I didn't."

"Smoke, don't fucking play with me. I'm not stupid!" Malia spat, her angry eyes flicking over his calm and collected features. Smoke gave up the act, releasing a deep sigh while rubbing his hand over his face. "Di? Divine across the hall?You told me you wasn't fucking that girl!"

"I'm not."

"Oh, so you’re just thinking 'bout fucking her?" Malia both asked and implied at the same time.

"Not at the moment." Smoke honestly spoke, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “C’mere. Let’s just—.” He started, grabbing her arms softly and pulling her closer.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Malia spat, snatching away from him and scrambling out of the bed, fuming. "Do you hear yourself?!" Malia yelled, the rise in her tone instantly making him cringe and close his eyes in attempt to combat the rising irritation in his spirit. "You're making zero fucking sense! I'm already overlooking the two other bitches, then here you go fucking one you wanna keep under wraps for some reason!"

"I fucked her one time, Malia." Smoke attempted to tiredly explain. "I ain't touch her since."

"You expect me to believe you, Smoke?!"

"What I gotta lie to you fa?" Smoke asked, face twisting up to show his confusion. "I promise, if I was still fuckin' her, you'd know 'cause I don't care 'bout you knowin', Malia.”

"You know what?" Malia scoffed, shaking her head as she jumped into her sweats. "I should've been done with your sneaky, conniving bullshit. You're just like Stack's trifling ass, and I'm a fucking dumbass for convincing myself that you any different."

 "Is dissin' my brudda really necessary?" Smoke grumbled in response, watching her finish getting dressed in silence with an attitude so potent that he can practically feel it radiating off of her. "My bad." He spoke once she was done, testing the waters to see just how pissed she is.

"Fuck you!" Malia sneered, snatching her purse from his nightstand. "Fuck your lil girlfriend, too!" She barked out behind her, storming out of his room.

"Aye, watch yo’ mouth! She ain’t my girlfriend, either!" Smoke loudly snapped, staring in the direction she went in, irritated.

The sound of his door slamming shut made his jaw tighten, and his eyes squeeze shut. After taking in a deep breath and releasing it, in attempt to calm his nerves, he shook his head and rolled out of the bed.

After trudging to his bathroom in defeat, Smoke snatched the barely used condom off of his softening dick and tossed it into the trash before looking at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t help but to laugh humorlessly at his luck before deciding to prepare for a long, hot shower.

Smoke scrubbed off Malia and the disappointment from him missing his opportunity to catch a nut, did the rest of his usual nighttime routine, slipped on a pair of black sweat-shorts and black Nike slides, and slinked across the hall with a shirt he got in New Orleans for Divine tight in his grip.

It didn't take Divine long to open the door after hearing his signature knock, the younger beaming uncontrollably at his presence.

Smoke's eyes raked her body that's clad in a pink cropped tube top and blue cotton panties, signaling that she's either getting ready for bed, or was already in bed.

"Hey, Elijah!" Divine greeted, pulling him in as he smiled at her excitement. "You just got back?" She asked, closing and locking the door.

"Like an hour ago." Smoke muttered, stepping closer and trapping her against the wall of the short hallway leading up to the door. "What you doing up, pretty?"

"Nigga, it's not that late." Divine chuckled, "Who slammed the fuck out your door earlier?"

"Man, you heard that bullshit?” Smoke scoffed. “Don't worry 'bout that." He grumbled, shaking his head as he recalled the verbal tussle between him and Malia. "Here go the shirt you asked fa." He held it up to show her the design.

"Oooh!" Divine grinned, snatching it and holding it against her body. After comparing it to her body, she checked the size and smacked her lips. "Smoke, you know damn well I don't wear a fucking large ." She gritted, hitting him in the face with it.

"Damn, girl!" Smoke laughed, "My bad.”

"Whatever." Divine rolled her eyes, smiling softly. "I can work with it." She shrugged, tossing the purple shirt over her shoulder. "You need to be putting this bitch on your damn self." She fussed, pushing him back with a firm nudge to his bare chest and sashaying off.

"You just wanted to cop a feel." Smoke teased, smirking at the natural switch of her hips as he followed her.

"Oh, get over yourself, Elijah Moore." Divine muttered, face heating up. "You're really not gonna tell me who slammed your door?"

"If I tell you, you'll drop it?" Smoke asked, leaning against the doorframe of her dimly lit room that's illuminated by her soft, warm floor lamp in the corner of her room. 

"Probably not." Divine mumbled, glancing at him and shrugging as she brought a few of her anime plushies from her bed to her closet in attempt to make more room for Smoke.

"You know what? I admire yo' honesty." Smoke chuckled, walking over to her bed and making himself comfortable on the unoccupied side of it—propping himself up against the headboard with one leg hanging off the side of the mattress. "C'mere." 

Divine closed the door of her closet, before rushing over to her designated side of the bed, cozying up beside Smoke.

"Tell me." Divine urged, excited to know what she's been wondering for the past hour.

"Malia."

"Why?" Divine pried, leaning closer. "Wait, don't tell me, yet. We're talking about the one with the short red hair, right?"

"Yes, Divine. That's her." Smoke chuckled, pulling her leg on his lap and rubbing her ankle.

"I called her over, we started fuckin', and while she was ridin' me, I called her “Di”."

"Oh my God." Divine grimaced, horrified. "Why in the hell would you do that?"

"I have no idea." Smoke muttered, the back of his head hitting the headboard. "I guess that's what happens when you got somebody in yo' face every damn day."

"Nigga, you was gone for a whole week with no contact." Divine sassed, "You had seven fucking days to reboot your mind and get rid of me, while you tryna get smart. What Stack had you doing down there at them ports, any-damn-way? Don't even try to lie, 'cause I still got your location from when I was making sure you was at the right place to pick up my food, a few weeks ago."

"Thank you for remindin' me that you still got my location, so I cut that bullshit off, nosey ass lil girl." Smoke pointed, slitting his eyes as she smirked proudly. "Stack ain't have me doin' shit." He couldn't help but to chuckle at his brother catching his second stray of the night. "I went down there to handle shit for the both of us."

"Drugs." Divine simply implied, rolling her eyes and making Smoke quirk a brow in amusement. "Anyways, you got that woman thinking I'm hopping on your dick every other night!"

"What's wrong wit’ that?" Smoke asked, biting back a smile while him and Divine held a brief stare-off. "I'm just askin'." He held his hand up in surrender when he saw she wasn't backing down.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you." Divine accused, tilting her head.

"Who wouldn't?" Smoke asked, laughing incredulously. 

"You know what..." Divine trailed off, making a spectacle of turning on her side and fluffing her pillow with an uncontrollable smile on her face. "I'm going to bed." She turned her lamp down two more levels with the remote that was on her nightstand. "I suggest you do the same." She grumbled, making sure her scarf is secure around the sides and edges of her high, voluminous puff.

"I knew you liked our lil sleepovers."

"I just know when you bring your ass over here this late, it ain’t no getting rid of you." Divine bit back, giggling as she made herself comfortable under her covers. "Get under here and go to bed. You get irritating as fuck when you sleepy. Childish, too."

"I’m nowhere near sleepy." Smoke lied.

Sure enough, Smoke was knocked out within three minutes, and Divine quickly followed. Around the 3:22 mark in the night, Smoke continued to sleep soundly, but the thunder from a storm that stirred up while they slumbered startled Divine awake.

"Shit!" Divine gasped, clutching her chest and sitting up to look out her window at the heavy rain that's picking up by the second. As she settled down her heart rate, she noticed that Smoke's soft snoring ceased.

"You good?" Smoke rasped, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"Yeah, I just—." Divine started, chuckling nervously, "That scared the shit outta me. I don't like sleeping when the weather gets bad like this." She confessed, trembling softly.

"C'mere."

Divine wasted no time moving closer, allowing Smoke to hold her against him with a secure hold around her waist. She began playing with his chain and listening to his breathing to distract herself.

"When it stormed coming up, Stack used to do the same shit." Smoke muttered, chuckling at the thought. "I used to be dead asleep, and wake up to him climbing in my bed talkin' bout he scared. I never made him feel bad for doing it, but shit, it pissed me off most nights."

"How long he did that for?" Divine asked softly, giggling at the thought of her big, charismatic boss looking to his brother for comfort. Not to tease, but to show how adorable she found the confession.

"I think 'til he was like sixteen." Smoke replied, smiling softly as Divine pressed her forehead against his lips. "One night, he just slept through it. Another came, and he did it again. I eventually asked him 'bout it and he cussed me out, so I guess he just grew out of it."

"I hope I grow out of it, too." Divine expressed under her breath, pressing a kiss onto Smoke's cheek. "Thank you for making me feel better."

"That wasn't exactly the goal, but I guess you welcome." Smoke joked, chuckling when she kicked at one of his legs that's tangled in hers. 

"I'm surprised you ain't run him out, knowing you."

"I'm not as mean as you make me out to be."

"Oh, yes you are, nigga!" Divine countered, giggling when he barked out a laugh. "Ok, I'm lying. You have your rare sweet moments."

"Exactly." Smoke chuckled. "Stop tryna downplay 'em. Especially since one of them rare ass moments was lettin' you talk me into fuckin' you."

"Oh, please. You were being overly dramatic, anyway." Divine sassed, lightheartedly rolling her eyes. "Guess what, we did it and left it alone. You were so convinced that I was gon' get attached, and I ended up playing it cordial with your ass for damn near six fucking months!" She got loud and in Smoke's face towards the end of her statement, making the man smack his lips and turn his head while trying to hide the smile that's fighting to make an appearance on his face. 

"Whatever, man."

"Just loud and wrong." Divine teased, tilting her head and smirking. "You didn't expect me to "get down to business, then go 'bout my day", huh?"

"I know damn well you didn’t just quote me."

"I did." Divine calmly retorted. "Just as much as I loved you fuckin' the shit outta me, I loved proving you wrong even more."

"Hm." Smoke hummed, smirking softly. Oddly, he's impressed. "Well played."

"I know." Divine cockily remarked. "Now that we established that I won, can you please eat my pussy?" She pleaded, dropping the "tough guy" act and softening her eyes in attempt to convince him.

Fortunately for Divine, Smoke didn't need much convincing. Hell, he actually didn't need any.

Divine's ragged breathing filled the air as Smoke pinned her down by her inner thighs—her legs spread so wide that the position is giving his insatiable mouth plenty of access to every single inch of her pussy.

Divine's chest heaved and she cupped her fleshy breasts that she freed from the top that's now bunched around her waist and completely disregarded. 

The feeling of Smoke's tongue whipping against her clit in tandem with his ring and middle fingers sinking in and out of her slick slit pulled a loud gasp from her entire being, her hips jerking harshly. 

The pleasurable frown on her face intensified when she felt the thick digits twist inside of her and the pads of them start to massage the spongy upper wall of her pussy while sucking at her soaked, swollen clit sloppily.

"Oh my God, Smoke." Divine moaned out in awe, stars bursting behind her eyelids. 

Smoke hummed in response, his free hand moving up her body and gripping her breast roughly. The roughness of his warm hand added extra stimulation to her aching nipple and before she knew it, she was gripping his wrist and bucking her hips against the rhythm of his tongue and fingers.

The sloshing between her legs intensified along with the maddening pace of Smoke's fingers. That paired with his skilled tongue roughly swirling against her clit had her writhing like crazy.

"Just like that, Elijaaah!" Divine cried, toes curling and muscles tightening as an abrupt orgasm threatened to crash down on her with sheer force. "Oh my G—!" She breathed, shuddering hard and biting her bottom lip for dear life when it finally made impact.

When Smoke didn't let up, still pressing his fingers against the soft surface and sucking her clit tenderly, Divine choked on a sob, clamping her legs shut around his fingers and twisting her body with her hands gripping her pillows above her head.

Smoke chuckled at her current state, placing open mouth kisses on her soft, plump ass cheek and upper thigh with his fingers still buried inside of her.

Smoke opened her legs back up after she finally regained all her senses, and nestled himself between them. He cupped her face, staring into her dilated eyes as he removed his soiled fingers from her pulsing center and brought them up to her lips. Divine wasted no time opening her mouth to clean them—her tongue outstretched and ready.

"Good fuckin' girl." Smoke grunted, dick twitching at the sight of her sucking his fingers into her mouth and swirling her tongue around them as if they were his dick. "You want som' else in this pretty ass mouth, huh?"

"Mmhm." Divine hummed, looking at him from under her lashes.

Divine practically wrestled him onto the bed, the two eagerly swapping places. She excitedly tugged off his shorts and pulled the bunched up material from around her waist before settling between his legs and taking his dick into her hand.

Divine smiled with excitement and determination, her mouth already watering at the hot and heavy length of him in her grip. She bit down on her bottom lip as she got into a comfortable position on her stomach.

"Wait." Smoke muttered, brows furrowing. "You know what you doing?"

"Well, I never had any complaints, so...I think so." Divine uttered under breath, shrugging. 

She’s engaged with oral sex with both of her “boyfriends”, but they weren't as big as Smoke. Even the dildo that she practiced on in the past wasn't as big as Smoke. With that being said, Divine don't know how in the hell this is going to turn out, but she’s somewhat confident in her abilities.

"Nah, you sound too unsure for me." Smoke remarked, looking down at her skeptically. "Don't bite my fucking dick off, Divine, or I—."

"Hush!" Divine whined. "You're making me nervous, and if I get nervous—! I don’t fucking know what I’ll do!" She stammered.

Smoke closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to resist the urge to laugh at her being overwhelmed in this very serious, but unserious situation.

“Just relax, and take yo’ time.” Smoke encouraged, attempting to calm her down. “Don’t rush, and…watch yo’ teeth, please.”

"I’m not stupid. All I need you to do is just tell me when or if something feels off or unpleasant." Divine told him, eyes flicking up to meet his after observing every inch of him. "I think I can take care of you, though, Smoke." She muttered, more so to herself as she tightened the grip on his shaft. 

Divine dragged her warm, wet tongue along the underside of his dick, even pivoting it a little to trace a vein she encountered on her path. Smoke watched her intensely as she traced his tip that's slick with his pre-cum, her eyes fixed on him and surveying his facial expressions.

From analyzing the way Smoke gave her head during her first time, she concocted a routine by relating what was pleasurable to her to what she’s researched on blowjobs in general: focus on the tip, suck as much as you can, make it sloppy (but not too sloppy), stroke what you can't, and if you're feeling bold—try to deep throat him. 

When she acted out the routine on her two "boyfriends", they seemed to love it. The only thing that she had to tweak was giving the balls attention. The first one told her to during the act, and when she tested it on the second without him having to, he had zero additional notes. Divine felt like she cracked the code!

Unfortunately, it didn't dawn on her at the time that there's some men with ridiculous sized dicks, Smoke being one of them. For some reason, she definitely didn’t anticipate having to suck Smoke’s down the line, anyway (despite literally fantasizing about doing so).

When Divine sucked him into her mouth, she lowered her head, drooled, and focused on relaxing and adjusting her jaws to his size. When she brought her head back up, hollowing her cheeks for gentle suction, her tongue dragged against the velvety skin, making Smoke release a heavy breath that definitely went straight to her head.

The friction grew almost nonexistent, Smoke's dick glistening with saliva, and Divine's head bobbing up and down his shaft with ease despite her jaws already starting to ache. It probably would’ve bothered her if Smoke didn’t sound so sexy moaning and groaning in her ear. While gripping the base firmly with one hand and twisting in short turns, she fondled his balls tenderly with the other.

"Gahdamn, Divine." Smoke moaned deeply, the sound sending a jolt right to her clit and prompting her to press her thighs together tighter to relieve the pressure between them. When her eyes fluttered closed, Smoke gripped her hair—gentle, but firm. "Nah, look at me." He breathed, chest heaving with his eyes locked on hers. “You so fuckin’ sexy, Di. What the Fuck?”

The sight of his gorgeous, dazed face led Divine to feel bold, therefore, she stuffed as much of his dick into her mouth that she could handle. When his tip hit the back of Divine's throat, his eyes rolled back into his skull.

"Fu—uuck." Smoke brokenly moaned, his stomach caving in as Divine gagged lightly. She retracted her head and spat on his dick before slurping it up from all sides of his length breathlessly. 

When she began stroking the soppy tip while licking and sucking on his drenched balls with a soft, teasing moan, his hips began to rise from the bed. 

"Uh uh. Bring yo’ ass here." He growled, practically yanking her up his body.

Divine giggled at his urgency, straddling him as he smashed his lips onto hers in pure desperation. She moaned into his mouth, raising her hips and reaching beneath her to grab his dick. She guided it along her slit, pressing the tip against her drooling center. Divine lowered her body and the second it breached her slit, she whimpered and Smoke's teeth sunk into her bottom lip gently.

Smoke held her close, grumbling a groan into her cheek. His hands roughly kneaded the flesh of her ass as his tongue traced her jawline and settled on the skin just beneath it. 

When he began sucking the area, Divine shakily gasped at the descending warmth down her spine colliding with the stretch and fullness that's currently being inflicted on her pussy the more she struggled to fully seat him inside of her. 

Once she was so stuffed with him that she felt she could barely breathe, she rolled her hips in a futile attempt to adjust. Her head and upper body fell back as she tried to focus on loosening her body completely while also trying not to cum from the intense heat sitting inside of her fluttering walls. 

Smoke lapped at one of her sensitive peaks before sucking it softly, causing Divine to release a shaky gasp and dig her fingers into his pillowy coils. She panted pathetically, her hands moving to Smoke’s shoulders when he began to slowly guide her hips towards a slow, sinful rhythm while giving her other nipple the same treatment. The dull ache mixed with that all too familiar itch being relieved made her shiver and claw at his skin, moaning helplessly.

“There you go.” Smoke drawled, relaxing his upper body against the headboard when Divine picked up where he left off, all on her own. “Just like that, pretty. My good fuckin’ girl.” He whispered, licking his lips and admiring the sight of her on top of him from beneath his lowered eyelids. 

Divine’s richly toned skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, and her voluptuous breasts appears to be making an effort of putting on a show just for him—bouncing beautifully to her messy, yet efficient rhythm.

“Y-You feel s’good inside of me, ‘Lijah.” Divine shakily whined, gripping his forearms for dear life as tears streamed down her face.

When the tip of his dick began to feel too damn good against her sensitive cervix, she reached back and placed her hands on his knees with her mouth parted, opening her legs and bouncing harder.

“Yeah.” Smoke breathed, gripping under her thighs and humming in approval at the sight of her painting, and slicking his dick with her milky arousal. “Ride the fuck out yo’ dick, Di.” He encouraged, biting back a moan as his eyes flicked back up to her blissed out face.

Divine moaned pathetically in response, sucking her shaky bottom lip between her teeth when it dawned on her that she’s really fucking close. Smoke feels it. The tightening of her thigh muscles paired with the pulses of her greedy walls around his stiff length.

“E-Elijah, I—.” Divine stuttered, not even knowing what she was about to say, legs shaking harshly. 

Smoke shushed her and pulled her soft body against him while scooting down and bending his knees. He began to hungrily thrust up into her from below, releasing a deep moan into her neck as she clawed at his arms with a muffled sob. 

“Yes! God, yes!” She cried into his neck, tears and drool hitting his shoulder as her toes curled.

“You cummin’ fa me, pretty?”

“Yes, baby!” Divine mewled, lifting her head and nodding feverishly with her eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck me, daddy! Please, make my pussy cum!”

Smoke grunted roughly at her plea, grabbing the nape of her neck and kissing her passionately. Divine’s muffled moans grew louder and more high pitched as she struggled to keep up with the wild, messy lip lock. 

Before she knew it, an intense wave of euphoric pleasure washed over her, prompting her to disconnect her swollen lips from Smoke’s. Divine  shuddered hard against Smoke’s solid frame, her forehead rolling against his with a guttural moan. Her pussy pulsed and leaked pathetically, the feeling making Smoke’s brows bunch and a soft, breathy “fuck” leave his lips.

“Keep going, baby. Don’t fucking stop.” Divine breathlessly pleaded, locking her leg around Smoke’s waist when he flipped them both on their side. Smoke hummed deeply, driving his dick in and out of her blissfully sore cavern without abandon, gripping the back of her hair. “Mmm, cum all in my fucking pussy, Elijah.” She slurred, damn near delirious.

“Shit, Di.” Smoke moaned deeply, pressing his head against hers. He used his free hand to lift her leg from his waist and hold it up for better access, tightly gripping her ankle. “You want it?” He grunted, his control slipping by the second as his his dick throbbed readily.

“So fucking bad, daddy. I dream about it. I need it.” Divine panted, her breathing intensifying and eyes rolling back into her skull with each rough, sloppy rut. “Uhh! Elijah!” She squealed, her leg flexing in Smoke’s strong hold. She reached back and gripped hard, tugging the sheet of her bed from the corner while bucking through another body shattering orgasm. “Elijah!” She sobbed, issuing the final blow to Smoke’s composure.

Smoke released an animalistic grunt into her neck, bringing his hand down on her ass and pulling her lower half flush to him. He moaned in euphoric relief, teeth sinking into the flushed skin as Divine purred at the feeling of the hot spurts of cum filling her to the brim.

“Damn, that feels—.” Divine breathed out, a lazy grin spreading across her face as she began grinding down on his dick that’s still twitching angrily inside of her along with his muscles. “Fuck, Elijah.” She cooed, gripping her breast roughly and slithering her tongue into his mouth when he placed his on hers, gripping the back of her neck.

“You goin’ to sleep in here?” Smoke asked lowly when he noticed the silence that filled the room, leaning up to get a view of Divine’s face from where she’s sitting between his legs, just to see her looking right back at him.

The water in the expansive tub that was once boiling hot (per Divine’s request) has since reached a barely enjoyable warmth as an indicator of the amount of time that’s passed with them in it.

“Nah, I just noticed the heartbeat you left in my pussy’s almost nonexistent.” Divine muttered, smiling softly when Smoke snickered at her realization.

“You be takin’ this muhfucka.” Smoke gave her props, smirking proudly. “It’s just the aftermath that do yo’ ass in. Shit, you asked for it, though. Remember that?” He asked in her ear, laughing when she swatted at his face.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Divine blushed, shaking her head and giggling. “I don’t even wanna think about it, right now.”

“You need to be thinkin’ ‘bout how we never use a condom ‘fore God make an example outta us.” Smoke lightheartedly fussed, making Divine roll her head against his chest with a loud groan. “This the second time, Di.”

“I didn’t expect to get fucked, tonight!” Divine defended. “I promise, I’m usually prepared. I don’t get down and dirty without one.” She assured him, making Smoke hum. “Where’s your accountability? You usually wear ‘em, right?”

“Oh course.” Smoke said in a “duh” tone, chuckling. “You thought I was fuckin’ three different women raw, all this time?”

“Well….”

“Divine, yo’ concept of me is so fucked up.” Smoke grumbled, shaking his head. Divine laughed at the disappointment in his tone. “I ain’t even laughin’.”

“I was just playing, Elijah.” Divine groaned, looking back at him and cupping his face with a smile. “I wouldn’t even be fucking you if I actually thought you were sexually irresponsible.”

“Don’t play wit’ me like that.”

“Man, shut up, crybaby.” Divine smacked her lips, giggling when he wrapped his hand around the front of her throat. Smoke smiled softly when her hands flew to his wrist, pinching at it. 

A comfortable silence engulfed the room after their playful banter died down. Divine gazed straight ahead, loss in thought as Smoke’s hands caressed her thighs mindlessly under the water.

“You think we’re gonna end up doing this again, Smoke?” Divine asked softly, reaching under the water and finding his hand—pleasantly surprised when he wasted no time locking their fingers.

“Yep.”

“Wanna make a deal?”

“Depends on the terms.” Smoke teased, smirking and tapping his forehead against the back of her head. “Talk to me.”

“We use protection with everyone, except for each other.” Divine offered. “Like, it can be our little secret, you know?” She went on, looking up at him and smiling softly. “You’re gonna have to stop being selfish and pull out though ‘cause I’m not fucking messing with any form of birth control.”

“Hol on, you was begging me to nut in you.” Smoke laughed at her trying to rewrite the script. 

“Yeah, and you were too damn ready to do it.” Divine sassed, chuckling. “Ok, we can indulge like two times a month.”

“Hell no.” Smoke scoffed. “Four.”

“Three.”

“Three, then.” Smoke grumbled, smirking softly at his next suggestion. “Shit, If we going down that road, we might as well cut out our third parties altogether.”

“You don’t do attachments, remember.” Divine reminded him, looking up at him with a quirked brow. “That sounds pretty damn close to an attachment, Elijah. Just me and you? No one else?” She went on, grinning when he smacked his lips and narrowed his eyes at her. "You attached, Elijah?"

“Look, I agree to the deal, but only wit’ my negotiations.” Smoke stated, dodging her question and shrugging to indicate finality. “We doin’ this, or not?”

“You know what? Fuck it.” Divine blurted, throwing her hands up in surrender after giving it minimal thought. “I’ll do it for the plot. Let’s lock it in.” She held her hand over her shoulder for him to shake.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Smoke muttered, disregarding her hand and tilting her face up to meet his. 

The pair shared a slow, tantalizing kiss that sent chills down both of their spines. Once their tongues became intertwined, and Smoke’s touch grew to be outright pornographic, Divine moaned and quickly broke the kiss, shaking her head with a beaming smile. 

“What?” Smoke asked, grinning innocently as if he wasn’t trying to get Divine stirred back up. 

“Elijah, I’m fucking tired.” Divine stressed, giggling as she attempted to stand up on her wobbly legs. Meanwhile, Smoke’s eyes are dragging down her frame, admiring the way the soapy water is cascading down her luscious curves while biting back a smile. “Come help me with this shower, so we can take both our horny asses to bed.”

Smoke laughed and followed her out a few feet to the glass shower. After grabbing two washcloths from her shelf and making sure the water was to her liking, he walked her in with a tight grip around her waist, her arms around his neck, and their legs tangled together.

After Smoke slid the glass door closed behind them, Divine collapsed against him again, her face pressed to his damp chest.

“You’re a good neighbor, Smoke.” Divine murmured, hugging his waist tightly. “A good ass friend, too.”

Smoke cracked a soft smile at the praise, wrapping his arm around her neck and kissing her head to show his own usual, wordless appreciation in return.

A Good Neighbor, indeed…

And they live Happily Ever After (as FWB)! Yay! 🥰😭

If you're reading this, thank you so much for being here! ❤️

[solarssins]

Nobody:

Di:

[hopefulandromantic]

LMAOOO 😭😭😭

[blowmymbackout]

they look real attached to me 🤨🙃

[hopefulandromantic]

👀👀😩!

[hopefulandromantic]

Good Neighbor (2)

Featuring: Elijah “Smoke” Moore

Warnings: Smut + Age Gap (Smoke is 35 and Divine is 23)! Rm: Don't read if that makes you uncomfortable! 🫶🏾

Lawd, I didn't expect y'all to be so interested in these two! 😭 I hope this ending lives up to the hype...*posts and scurries back to my lair*

Between the soothing sounds of the rain pattering against the wall to wall windows of his bedroom and the moans of the gorgeous woman on top of him, this is the most relaxed Smoke’s been in a while. 

He just returned to Chicago from a week long business trip to New Orleans, and in his desperation to shed the stress of his and his brother's affairs, he called one of his "girlfriends", Malia, to be waiting at his door as soon as he got back.

The back of Smoke’s head sunk further into his pillows, and his eyes fluttered closed. His chest heaved along with his heavy breaths, the feeling of Malia, wet and warm around his length, sending his teeth sinking into his plump, bottom lip. 

When she picked up the pace, pulling herself closer and closer to her peak with her head thrown back in ecstasy, Smoke's hands flew to her toned waist, gripping tight.

"Mm, Fuck, Di." Smoke groaned out without thinking.

The room went completely silent and still. 

"Shit!" Was all Smoke's brain could come up with. It's been well over five months since he slept with Divine. Their relationship literally went right  back to normal, after. Why the fuck is he slipping up and saying her name, right now, of all times?

"You just called me “Di”." Malia said softly, trying to catch her breath. Smoke remained neutral, attempting to gaslight himself out of the hole he just dug for himself.

"No, I didn't."

"Smoke, don't fucking play with me. I'm not stupid!" Malia spat, her angry eyes flicking over his calm and collected features. Smoke gave up the act, releasing a deep sigh while rubbing his hand over his face. "Di? Divine across the hall?You told me you wasn't fucking that girl!"

"I'm not."

"Oh, so you’re just thinking 'bout fucking her?" Malia both asked and implied at the same time.

"Not at the moment." Smoke honestly spoke, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “C’mere. Let’s just—.” He started, grabbing her arms softly and pulling her closer.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Malia spat, snatching away from him and scrambling out of the bed, fuming. "Do you hear yourself?!" Malia yelled, the rise in her tone instantly making him cringe and close his eyes in attempt to combat the rising irritation in his spirit. "You're making zero fucking sense! I'm already overlooking the two other bitches, then here you go fucking one you wanna keep under wraps for some reason!"

"I fucked her one time, Malia." Smoke attempted to tiredly explain. "I ain't touch her since."

"You expect me to believe you, Smoke?!"

"What I gotta lie to you fa?" Smoke asked, face twisting up to show his confusion. "I promise, if I was still fuckin' her, you'd know 'cause I don't care 'bout you knowin', Malia.”

"You know what?" Malia scoffed, shaking her head as she jumped into her sweats. "I should've been done with your sneaky, conniving bullshit. You're just like Stack's trifling ass, and I'm a fucking dumbass for convincing myself that you any different."

 "Is dissin' my brudda really necessary?" Smoke grumbled in response, watching her finish getting dressed in silence with an attitude so potent that he can practically feel it radiating off of her. "My bad." He spoke once she was done, testing the waters to see just how pissed she is.

"Fuck you!" Malia sneered, snatching her purse from his nightstand. "Fuck your lil girlfriend, too!" She barked out behind her, storming out of his room.

"Aye, watch yo’ mouth! She ain’t my girlfriend, either!" Smoke loudly snapped, staring in the direction she went in, irritated.

The sound of his door slamming shut made his jaw tighten, and his eyes squeeze shut. After taking in a deep breath and releasing it, in attempt to calm his nerves, he shook his head and rolled out of the bed.

After trudging to his bathroom in defeat, Smoke snatched the barely used condom off of his softening dick and tossed it into the trash before looking at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t help but to laugh humorlessly at his luck before deciding to prepare for a long, hot shower.

Smoke scrubbed off Malia and the disappointment from him missing his opportunity to catch a nut, did the rest of his usual nighttime routine, slipped on a pair of black sweat-shorts and black Nike slides, and slinked across the hall with a shirt he got in New Orleans for Divine tight in his grip.

It didn't take Divine long to open the door after hearing his signature knock, the younger beaming uncontrollably at his presence.

Smoke's eyes raked her body that's clad in a pink cropped tube top and blue cotton panties, signaling that she's either getting ready for bed, or was already in bed.

"Hey, Elijah!" Divine greeted, pulling him in as he smiled at her excitement. "You just got back?" She asked, closing and locking the door.

"Like an hour ago." Smoke muttered, stepping closer and trapping her against the wall of the short hallway leading up to the door. "What you doing up, pretty?"

"Nigga, it's not that late." Divine chuckled, "Who slammed the fuck out your door earlier?"

"Man, you heard that bullshit?” Smoke scoffed. “Don't worry 'bout that." He grumbled, shaking his head as he recalled the verbal tussle between him and Malia. "Here go the shirt you asked fa." He held it up to show her the design.

"Oooh!" Divine grinned, snatching it and holding it against her body. After comparing it to her body, she checked the size and smacked her lips. "Smoke, you know damn well I don't wear a fucking large ." She gritted, hitting him in the face with it.

"Damn, girl!" Smoke laughed, "My bad.”

"Whatever." Divine rolled her eyes, smiling softly. "I can work with it." She shrugged, tossing the purple shirt over her shoulder. "You need to be putting this bitch on your damn self." She fussed, pushing him back with a firm nudge to his bare chest and sashaying off.

"You just wanted to cop a feel." Smoke teased, smirking at the natural switch of her hips as he followed her.

"Oh, get over yourself, Elijah Moore." Divine muttered, face heating up. "You're really not gonna tell me who slammed your door?"

"If I tell you, you'll drop it?" Smoke asked, leaning against the doorframe of her dimly lit room that's illuminated by her soft, warm floor lamp in the corner of her room. 

"Probably not." Divine mumbled, glancing at him and shrugging as she brought a few of her anime plushies from her bed to her closet in attempt to make more room for Smoke.

"You know what? I admire yo' honesty." Smoke chuckled, walking over to her bed and making himself comfortable on the unoccupied side of it—propping himself up against the headboard with one leg hanging off the side of the mattress. "C'mere." 

Divine closed the door of her closet, before rushing over to her designated side of the bed, cozying up beside Smoke.

"Tell me." Divine urged, excited to know what she's been wondering for the past hour.

"Malia."

"Why?" Divine pried, leaning closer. "Wait, don't tell me, yet. We're talking about the one with the short red hair, right?"

"Yes, Divine. That's her." Smoke chuckled, pulling her leg on his lap and rubbing her ankle.

"I called her over, we started fuckin', and while she was ridin' me, I called her “Di”."

"Oh my God." Divine grimaced, horrified. "Why in the hell would you do that?"

"I have no idea." Smoke muttered, the back of his head hitting the headboard. "I guess that's what happens when you got somebody in yo' face every damn day."

"Nigga, you was gone for a whole week with no contact." Divine sassed, "You had seven fucking days to reboot your mind and get rid of me, while you tryna get smart. What Stack had you doing down there at them ports, any-damn-way? Don't even try to lie, 'cause I still got your location from when I was making sure you was at the right place to pick up my food, a few weeks ago."

"Thank you for remindin' me that you still got my location, so I cut that bullshit off, nosey ass lil girl." Smoke pointed, slitting his eyes as she smirked proudly. "Stack ain't have me doin' shit." He couldn't help but to chuckle at his brother catching his second stray of the night. "I went down there to handle shit for the both of us."

"Drugs." Divine simply implied, rolling her eyes and making Smoke quirk a brow in amusement. "Anyways, you got that woman thinking I'm hopping on your dick every other night!"

"What's wrong wit’ that?" Smoke asked, biting back a smile while him and Divine held a brief stare-off. "I'm just askin'." He held his hand up in surrender when he saw she wasn't backing down.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you." Divine accused, tilting her head.

"Who wouldn't?" Smoke asked, laughing incredulously. 

"You know what..." Divine trailed off, making a spectacle of turning on her side and fluffing her pillow with an uncontrollable smile on her face. "I'm going to bed." She turned her lamp down two more levels with the remote that was on her nightstand. "I suggest you do the same." She grumbled, making sure her scarf is secure around the sides and edges of her high, voluminous puff.

"I knew you liked our lil sleepovers."

"I just know when you bring your ass over here this late, it ain’t no getting rid of you." Divine bit back, giggling as she made herself comfortable under her covers. "Get under here and go to bed. You get irritating as fuck when you sleepy. Childish, too."

"I’m nowhere near sleepy." Smoke lied.

Sure enough, Smoke was knocked out within three minutes, and Divine quickly followed. Around the 3:22 mark in the night, Smoke continued to sleep soundly, but the thunder from a storm that stirred up while they slumbered startled Divine awake.

"Shit!" Divine gasped, clutching her chest and sitting up to look out her window at the heavy rain that's picking up by the second. As she settled down her heart rate, she noticed that Smoke's soft snoring ceased.

"You good?" Smoke rasped, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"Yeah, I just—." Divine started, chuckling nervously, "That scared the shit outta me. I don't like sleeping when the weather gets bad like this." She confessed, trembling softly.

"C'mere."

Divine wasted no time moving closer, allowing Smoke to hold her against him with a secure hold around her waist. She began playing with his chain and listening to his breathing to distract herself.

"When it stormed coming up, Stack used to do the same shit." Smoke muttered, chuckling at the thought. "I used to be dead asleep, and wake up to him climbing in my bed talkin' bout he scared. I never made him feel bad for doing it, but shit, it pissed me off most nights."

"How long he did that for?" Divine asked softly, giggling at the thought of her big, charismatic boss looking to his brother for comfort. Not to tease, but to show how adorable she found the confession.

"I think 'til he was like sixteen." Smoke replied, smiling softly as Divine pressed her forehead against his lips. "One night, he just slept through it. Another came, and he did it again. I eventually asked him 'bout it and he cussed me out, so I guess he just grew out of it."

"I hope I grow out of it, too." Divine expressed under her breath, pressing a kiss onto Smoke's cheek. "Thank you for making me feel better."

"That wasn't exactly the goal, but I guess you welcome." Smoke joked, chuckling when she kicked at one of his legs that's tangled in hers. 

"I'm surprised you ain't run him out, knowing you."

"I'm not as mean as you make me out to be."

"Oh, yes you are, nigga!" Divine countered, giggling when he barked out a laugh. "Ok, I'm lying. You have your rare sweet moments."

"Exactly." Smoke chuckled. "Stop tryna downplay 'em. Especially since one of them rare ass moments was lettin' you talk me into fuckin' you."

"Oh, please. You were being overly dramatic, anyway." Divine sassed, lightheartedly rolling her eyes. "Guess what, we did it and left it alone. You were so convinced that I was gon' get attached, and I ended up playing it cordial with your ass for damn near six fucking months!" She got loud and in Smoke's face towards the end of her statement, making the man smack his lips and turn his head while trying to hide the smile that's fighting to make an appearance on his face. 

"Whatever, man."

"Just loud and wrong." Divine teased, tilting her head and smirking. "You didn't expect me to "get down to business, then go 'bout my day", huh?"

"I know damn well you didn’t just quote me."

"I did." Divine calmly retorted. "Just as much as I loved you fuckin' the shit outta me, I loved proving you wrong even more."

"Hm." Smoke hummed, smirking softly. Oddly, he's impressed. "Well played."

"I know." Divine cockily remarked. "Now that we established that I won, can you please eat my pussy?" She pleaded, dropping the "tough guy" act and softening her eyes in attempt to convince him.

Fortunately for Divine, Smoke didn't need much convincing. Hell, he actually didn't need any.

Divine's ragged breathing filled the air as Smoke pinned her down by her inner thighs—her legs spread so wide that the position is giving his insatiable mouth plenty of access to every single inch of her pussy.

Divine's chest heaved and she cupped her fleshy breasts that she freed from the top that's now bunched around her waist and completely disregarded. 

The feeling of Smoke's tongue whipping against her clit in tandem with his ring and middle fingers sinking in and out of her slick slit pulled a loud gasp from her entire being, her hips jerking harshly. 

The pleasurable frown on her face intensified when she felt the thick digits twist inside of her and the pads of them start to massage the spongy upper wall of her pussy while sucking at her soaked, swollen clit sloppily.

"Oh my God, Smoke." Divine moaned out in awe, stars bursting behind her eyelids. 

Smoke hummed in response, his free hand moving up her body and gripping her breast roughly. The roughness of his warm hand added extra stimulation to her aching nipple and before she knew it, she was gripping his wrist and bucking her hips against the rhythm of his tongue and fingers.

The sloshing between her legs intensified along with the maddening pace of Smoke's fingers. That paired with his skilled tongue roughly swirling against her clit had her writhing like crazy.

"Just like that, Elijaaah!" Divine cried, toes curling and muscles tightening as an abrupt orgasm threatened to crash down on her with sheer force. "Oh my G—!" She breathed, shuddering hard and biting her bottom lip for dear life when it finally made impact.

When Smoke didn't let up, still pressing his fingers against the soft surface and sucking her clit tenderly, Divine choked on a sob, clamping her legs shut around his fingers and twisting her body with her hands gripping her pillows above her head.

Smoke chuckled at her current state, placing open mouth kisses on her soft, plump ass cheek and upper thigh with his fingers still buried inside of her.

Smoke opened her legs back up after she finally regained all her senses, and nestled himself between them. He cupped her face, staring into her dilated eyes as he removed his soiled fingers from her pulsing center and brought them up to her lips. Divine wasted no time opening her mouth to clean them—her tongue outstretched and ready.

"Good fuckin' girl." Smoke grunted, dick twitching at the sight of her sucking his fingers into her mouth and swirling her tongue around them as if they were his dick. "You want som' else in this pretty ass mouth, huh?"

"Mmhm." Divine hummed, looking at him from under her lashes.

Divine practically wrestled him onto the bed, the two eagerly swapping places. She excitedly tugged off his shorts and pulled the bunched up material from around her waist before settling between his legs and taking his dick into her hand.

Divine smiled with excitement and determination, her mouth already watering at the hot and heavy length of him in her grip. She bit down on her bottom lip as she got into a comfortable position on her stomach.

"Wait." Smoke muttered, brows furrowing. "You know what you doing?"

"Well, I never had any complaints, so...I think so." Divine uttered under breath, shrugging. 

She’s engaged with oral sex with both of her “boyfriends”, but they weren't as big as Smoke. Even the dildo that she practiced on in the past wasn't as big as Smoke. With that being said, Divine don't know how in the hell this is going to turn out, but she’s somewhat confident in her abilities.

"Nah, you sound too unsure for me." Smoke remarked, looking down at her skeptically. "Don't bite my fucking dick off, Divine, or I—."

"Hush!" Divine whined. "You're making me nervous, and if I get nervous—! I don’t fucking know what I’ll do!" She stammered.

Smoke closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to resist the urge to laugh at her being overwhelmed in this very serious, but unserious situation.

“Just relax, and take yo’ time.” Smoke encouraged, attempting to calm her down. “Don’t rush, and…watch yo’ teeth, please.”

"I’m not stupid. All I need you to do is just tell me when or if something feels off or unpleasant." Divine told him, eyes flicking up to meet his after observing every inch of him. "I think I can take care of you, though, Smoke." She muttered, more so to herself as she tightened the grip on his shaft. 

Divine dragged her warm, wet tongue along the underside of his dick, even pivoting it a little to trace a vein she encountered on her path. Smoke watched her intensely as she traced his tip that's slick with his pre-cum, her eyes fixed on him and surveying his facial expressions.

From analyzing the way Smoke gave her head during her first time, she concocted a routine by relating what was pleasurable to her to what she’s researched on blowjobs in general: focus on the tip, suck as much as you can, make it sloppy (but not too sloppy), stroke what you can't, and if you're feeling bold—try to deep throat him. 

When she acted out the routine on her two "boyfriends", they seemed to love it. The only thing that she had to tweak was giving the balls attention. The first one told her to during the act, and when she tested it on the second without him having to, he had zero additional notes. Divine felt like she cracked the code!

Unfortunately, it didn't dawn on her at the time that there's some men with ridiculous sized dicks, Smoke being one of them. For some reason, she definitely didn’t anticipate having to suck Smoke’s down the line, anyway (despite literally fantasizing about doing so).

When Divine sucked him into her mouth, she lowered her head, drooled, and focused on relaxing and adjusting her jaws to his size. When she brought her head back up, hollowing her cheeks for gentle suction, her tongue dragged against the velvety skin, making Smoke release a heavy breath that definitely went straight to her head.

The friction grew almost nonexistent, Smoke's dick glistening with saliva, and Divine's head bobbing up and down his shaft with ease despite her jaws already starting to ache. It probably would’ve bothered her if Smoke didn’t sound so sexy moaning and groaning in her ear. While gripping the base firmly with one hand and twisting in short turns, she fondled his balls tenderly with the other.

"Gahdamn, Divine." Smoke moaned deeply, the sound sending a jolt right to her clit and prompting her to press her thighs together tighter to relieve the pressure between them. When her eyes fluttered closed, Smoke gripped her hair—gentle, but firm. "Nah, look at me." He breathed, chest heaving with his eyes locked on hers. “You so fuckin’ sexy, Di. What the Fuck?”

The sight of his gorgeous, dazed face led Divine to feel bold, therefore, she stuffed as much of his dick into her mouth that she could handle. When his tip hit the back of Divine's throat, his eyes rolled back into his skull.

"Fu—uuck." Smoke brokenly moaned, his stomach caving in as Divine gagged lightly. She retracted her head and spat on his dick before slurping it up from all sides of his length breathlessly. 

When she began stroking the soppy tip while licking and sucking on his drenched balls with a soft, teasing moan, his hips began to rise from the bed. 

"Uh uh. Bring yo’ ass here." He growled, practically yanking her up his body.

Divine giggled at his urgency, straddling him as he smashed his lips onto hers in pure desperation. She moaned into his mouth, raising her hips and reaching beneath her to grab his dick. She guided it along her slit, pressing the tip against her drooling center. Divine lowered her body and the second it breached her slit, she whimpered and Smoke's teeth sunk into her bottom lip gently.

Smoke held her close, grumbling a groan into her cheek. His hands roughly kneaded the flesh of her ass as his tongue traced her jawline and settled on the skin just beneath it. 

When he began sucking the area, Divine shakily gasped at the descending warmth down her spine colliding with the stretch and fullness that's currently being inflicted on her pussy the more she struggled to fully seat him inside of her. 

Once she was so stuffed with him that she felt she could barely breathe, she rolled her hips in a futile attempt to adjust. Her head and upper body fell back as she tried to focus on loosening her body completely while also trying not to cum from the intense heat sitting inside of her fluttering walls. 

Smoke lapped at one of her sensitive peaks before sucking it softly, causing Divine to release a shaky gasp and dig her fingers into his pillowy coils. She panted pathetically, her hands moving to Smoke’s shoulders when he began to slowly guide her hips towards a slow, sinful rhythm while giving her other nipple the same treatment. The dull ache mixed with that all too familiar itch being relieved made her shiver and claw at his skin, moaning helplessly.

“There you go.” Smoke drawled, relaxing his upper body against the headboard when Divine picked up where he left off, all on her own. “Just like that, pretty. My good fuckin’ girl.” He whispered, licking his lips and admiring the sight of her on top of him from beneath his lowered eyelids. 

Divine’s richly toned skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, and her voluptuous breasts appears to be making an effort of putting on a show just for him—bouncing beautifully to her messy, yet efficient rhythm.

“Y-You feel s’good inside of me, ‘Lijah.” Divine shakily whined, gripping his forearms for dear life as tears streamed down her face.

When the tip of his dick began to feel too damn good against her sensitive cervix, she reached back and placed her hands on his knees with her mouth parted, opening her legs and bouncing harder.

“Yeah.” Smoke breathed, gripping under her thighs and humming in approval at the sight of her painting, and slicking his dick with her milky arousal. “Ride the fuck out yo’ dick, Di.” He encouraged, biting back a moan as his eyes flicked back up to her blissed out face.

Divine moaned pathetically in response, sucking her shaky bottom lip between her teeth when it dawned on her that she’s really fucking close. Smoke feels it. The tightening of her thigh muscles paired with the pulses of her greedy walls around his stiff length.

“E-Elijah, I—.” Divine stuttered, not even knowing what she was about to say, legs shaking harshly. 

Smoke shushed her and pulled her soft body against him while scooting down and bending his knees. He began to hungrily thrust up into her from below, releasing a deep moan into her neck as she clawed at his arms with a muffled sob. 

“Yes! God, yes!” She cried into his neck, tears and drool hitting his shoulder as her toes curled.

“You cummin’ fa me, pretty?”

“Yes, baby!” Divine mewled, lifting her head and nodding feverishly with her eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck me, daddy! Please, make my pussy cum!”

Smoke grunted roughly at her plea, grabbing the nape of her neck and kissing her passionately. Divine’s muffled moans grew louder and more high pitched as she struggled to keep up with the wild, messy lip lock. 

Before she knew it, an intense wave of euphoric pleasure washed over her, prompting her to disconnect her swollen lips from Smoke’s. Divine  shuddered hard against Smoke’s solid frame, her forehead rolling against his with a guttural moan. Her pussy pulsed and leaked pathetically, the feeling making Smoke’s brows bunch and a soft, breathy “fuck” leave his lips.

“Keep going, baby. Don’t fucking stop.” Divine breathlessly pleaded, locking her leg around Smoke’s waist when he flipped them both on their side. Smoke hummed deeply, driving his dick in and out of her blissfully sore cavern without abandon, gripping the back of her hair. “Mmm, cum all in my fucking pussy, Elijah.” She slurred, damn near delirious.

“Shit, Di.” Smoke moaned deeply, pressing his head against hers. He used his free hand to lift her leg from his waist and hold it up for better access, tightly gripping her ankle. “You want it?” He grunted, his control slipping by the second as his his dick throbbed readily.

“So fucking bad, daddy. I dream about it. I need it.” Divine panted, her breathing intensifying and eyes rolling back into her skull with each rough, sloppy rut. “Uhh! Elijah!” She squealed, her leg flexing in Smoke’s strong hold. She reached back and gripped hard, tugging the sheet of her bed from the corner while bucking through another body shattering orgasm. “Elijah!” She sobbed, issuing the final blow to Smoke’s composure.

Smoke released an animalistic grunt into her neck, bringing his hand down on her ass and pulling her lower half flush to him. He moaned in euphoric relief, teeth sinking into the flushed skin as Divine purred at the feeling of the hot spurts of cum filling her to the brim.

“Damn, that feels—.” Divine breathed out, a lazy grin spreading across her face as she began grinding down on his dick that’s still twitching angrily inside of her along with his muscles. “Fuck, Elijah.” She cooed, gripping her breast roughly and slithering her tongue into his mouth when he placed his on hers, gripping the back of her neck.

“You goin’ to sleep in here?” Smoke asked lowly when he noticed the silence that filled the room, leaning up to get a view of Divine’s face from where she’s sitting between his legs, just to see her looking right back at him.

The water in the expansive tub that was once boiling hot (per Divine’s request) has since reached a barely enjoyable warmth as an indicator of the amount of time that’s passed with them in it.

“Nah, I just noticed the heartbeat you left in my pussy’s almost nonexistent.” Divine muttered, smiling softly when Smoke snickered at her realization.

“You be takin’ this muhfucka.” Smoke gave her props, smirking proudly. “It’s just the aftermath that do yo’ ass in. Shit, you asked for it, though. Remember that?” He asked in her ear, laughing when she swatted at his face.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Divine blushed, shaking her head and giggling. “I don’t even wanna think about it, right now.”

“You need to be thinkin’ ‘bout how we never use a condom ‘fore God make an example outta us.” Smoke lightheartedly fussed, making Divine roll her head against his chest with a loud groan. “This the second time, Di.”

“I didn’t expect to get fucked, tonight!” Divine defended. “I promise, I’m usually prepared. I don’t get down and dirty without one.” She assured him, making Smoke hum. “Where’s your accountability? You usually wear ‘em, right?”

“Oh course.” Smoke said in a “duh” tone, chuckling. “You thought I was fuckin’ three different women raw, all this time?”

“Well….”

“Divine, yo’ concept of me is so fucked up.” Smoke grumbled, shaking his head. Divine laughed at the disappointment in his tone. “I ain’t even laughin’.”

“I was just playing, Elijah.” Divine groaned, looking back at him and cupping his face with a smile. “I wouldn’t even be fucking you if I actually thought you were sexually irresponsible.”

“Don’t play wit’ me like that.”

“Man, shut up, crybaby.” Divine smacked her lips, giggling when he wrapped his hand around the front of her throat. Smoke smiled softly when her hands flew to his wrist, pinching at it. 

A comfortable silence engulfed the room after their playful banter died down. Divine gazed straight ahead, loss in thought as Smoke’s hands caressed her thighs mindlessly under the water.

“You think we’re gonna end up doing this again, Smoke?” Divine asked softly, reaching under the water and finding his hand—pleasantly surprised when he wasted no time locking their fingers.

“Yep.”

“Wanna make a deal?”

“Depends on the terms.” Smoke teased, smirking and tapping his forehead against the back of her head. “Talk to me.”

“We use protection with everyone, except for each other.” Divine offered. “Like, it can be our little secret, you know?” She went on, looking up at him and smiling softly. “You’re gonna have to stop being selfish and pull out though ‘cause I’m not fucking messing with any form of birth control.”

“Hol on, you was begging me to nut in you.” Smoke laughed at her trying to rewrite the script. 

“Yeah, and you were too damn ready to do it.” Divine sassed, chuckling. “Ok, we can indulge like two times a month.”

“Hell no.” Smoke scoffed. “Four.”

“Three.”

“Three, then.” Smoke grumbled, smirking softly at his next suggestion. “Shit, If we going down that road, we might as well cut out our third parties altogether.”

“You don’t do attachments, remember.” Divine reminded him, looking up at him with a quirked brow. “That sounds pretty damn close to an attachment, Elijah. Just me and you? No one else?” She went on, grinning when he smacked his lips and narrowed his eyes at her. "You attached, Elijah?"

“Look, I agree to the deal, but only wit’ my negotiations.” Smoke stated, dodging her question and shrugging to indicate finality. “We doin’ this, or not?”

“You know what? Fuck it.” Divine blurted, throwing her hands up in surrender after giving it minimal thought. “I’ll do it for the plot. Let’s lock it in.” She held her hand over her shoulder for him to shake.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Smoke muttered, disregarding her hand and tilting her face up to meet his. 

The pair shared a slow, tantalizing kiss that sent chills down both of their spines. Once their tongues became intertwined, and Smoke’s touch grew to be outright pornographic, Divine moaned and quickly broke the kiss, shaking her head with a beaming smile. 

“What?” Smoke asked, grinning innocently as if he wasn’t trying to get Divine stirred back up. 

“Elijah, I’m fucking tired.” Divine stressed, giggling as she attempted to stand up on her wobbly legs. Meanwhile, Smoke’s eyes are dragging down her frame, admiring the way the soapy water is cascading down her luscious curves while biting back a smile. “Come help me with this shower, so we can take both our horny asses to bed.”

Smoke laughed and followed her out a few feet to the glass shower. After grabbing two washcloths from her shelf and making sure the water was to her liking, he walked her in with a tight grip around her waist, her arms around his neck, and their legs tangled together.

After Smoke slid the glass door closed behind them, Divine collapsed against him again, her face pressed to his damp chest.

“You’re a good neighbor, Smoke.” Divine murmured, hugging his waist tightly. “A good ass friend, too.”

Smoke cracked a soft smile at the praise, wrapping his arm around her neck and kissing her head to show his own usual, wordless appreciation in return.

A Good Neighbor, indeed…

And they live Happily Ever After (as FWB)! Yay! 🥰😭

If you're reading this, thank you so much for being here! ❤️

[solarssins]

Nobody:

Di:

[hopefulandromantic]

LMAOOO 😭😭😭

[hopefulandromantic]

Good Neighbor (2)

Featuring: Elijah “Smoke” Moore

Warnings: Smut + Age Gap (Smoke is 35 and Divine is 23)! Rm: Don't read if that makes you uncomfortable! 🫶🏾

Lawd, I didn't expect y'all to be so interested in these two! 😭 I hope this ending lives up to the hype...*posts and scurries back to my lair*

Between the soothing sounds of the rain pattering against the wall to wall windows of his bedroom and the moans of the gorgeous woman on top of him, this is the most relaxed Smoke’s been in a while. 

He just returned to Chicago from a week long business trip to New Orleans, and in his desperation to shed the stress of his and his brother's affairs, he called one of his "girlfriends", Malia, to be waiting at his door as soon as he got back.

The back of Smoke’s head sunk further into his pillows, and his eyes fluttered closed. His chest heaved along with his heavy breaths, the feeling of Malia, wet and warm around his length, sending his teeth sinking into his plump, bottom lip. 

When she picked up the pace, pulling herself closer and closer to her peak with her head thrown back in ecstasy, Smoke's hands flew to her toned waist, gripping tight.

"Mm, Fuck, Di." Smoke groaned out without thinking.

The room went completely silent and still. 

"Shit!" Was all Smoke's brain could come up with. It's been well over five months since he slept with Divine. Their relationship literally went right  back to normal, after. Why the fuck is he slipping up and saying her name, right now, of all times?

"You just called me “Di”." Malia said softly, trying to catch her breath. Smoke remained neutral, attempting to gaslight himself out of the hole he just dug for himself.

"No, I didn't."

"Smoke, don't fucking play with me. I'm not stupid!" Malia spat, her angry eyes flicking over his calm and collected features. Smoke gave up the act, releasing a deep sigh while rubbing his hand over his face. "Di? Divine across the hall?You told me you wasn't fucking that girl!"

"I'm not."

"Oh, so you’re just thinking 'bout fucking her?" Malia both asked and implied at the same time.

"Not at the moment." Smoke honestly spoke, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “C’mere. Let’s just—.” He started, grabbing her arms softly and pulling her closer.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Malia spat, snatching away from him and scrambling out of the bed, fuming. "Do you hear yourself?!" Malia yelled, the rise in her tone instantly making him cringe and close his eyes in attempt to combat the rising irritation in his spirit. "You're making zero fucking sense! I'm already overlooking the two other bitches, then here you go fucking one you wanna keep under wraps for some reason!"

"I fucked her one time, Malia." Smoke attempted to tiredly explain. "I ain't touch her since."

"You expect me to believe you, Smoke?!"

"What I gotta lie to you fa?" Smoke asked, face twisting up to show his confusion. "I promise, if I was still fuckin' her, you'd know 'cause I don't care 'bout you knowin', Malia.”

"You know what?" Malia scoffed, shaking her head as she jumped into her sweats. "I should've been done with your sneaky, conniving bullshit. You're just like Stack's trifling ass, and I'm a fucking dumbass for convincing myself that you any different."

 "Is dissin' my brudda really necessary?" Smoke grumbled in response, watching her finish getting dressed in silence with an attitude so potent that he can practically feel it radiating off of her. "My bad." He spoke once she was done, testing the waters to see just how pissed she is.

"Fuck you!" Malia sneered, snatching her purse from his nightstand. "Fuck your lil girlfriend, too!" She barked out behind her, storming out of his room.

"Aye, watch yo’ mouth! She ain’t my girlfriend, either!" Smoke loudly snapped, staring in the direction she went in, irritated.

The sound of his door slamming shut made his jaw tighten, and his eyes squeeze shut. After taking in a deep breath and releasing it, in attempt to calm his nerves, he shook his head and rolled out of the bed.

After trudging to his bathroom in defeat, Smoke snatched the barely used condom off of his softening dick and tossed it into the trash before looking at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t help but to laugh humorlessly at his luck before deciding to prepare for a long, hot shower.

Smoke scrubbed off Malia and the disappointment from him missing his opportunity to catch a nut, did the rest of his usual nighttime routine, slipped on a pair of black sweat-shorts and black Nike slides, and slinked across the hall with a shirt he got in New Orleans for Divine tight in his grip.

It didn't take Divine long to open the door after hearing his signature knock, the younger beaming uncontrollably at his presence.

Smoke's eyes raked her body that's clad in a pink cropped tube top and blue cotton panties, signaling that she's either getting ready for bed, or was already in bed.

"Hey, Elijah!" Divine greeted, pulling him in as he smiled at her excitement. "You just got back?" She asked, closing and locking the door.

"Like an hour ago." Smoke muttered, stepping closer and trapping her against the wall of the short hallway leading up to the door. "What you doing up, pretty?"

"Nigga, it's not that late." Divine chuckled, "Who slammed the fuck out your door earlier?"

"Man, you heard that bullshit?” Smoke scoffed. “Don't worry 'bout that." He grumbled, shaking his head as he recalled the verbal tussle between him and Malia. "Here go the shirt you asked fa." He held it up to show her the design.

"Oooh!" Divine grinned, snatching it and holding it against her body. After comparing it to her body, she checked the size and smacked her lips. "Smoke, you know damn well I don't wear a fucking large ." She gritted, hitting him in the face with it.

"Damn, girl!" Smoke laughed, "My bad.”

"Whatever." Divine rolled her eyes, smiling softly. "I can work with it." She shrugged, tossing the purple shirt over her shoulder. "You need to be putting this bitch on your damn self." She fussed, pushing him back with a firm nudge to his bare chest and sashaying off.

"You just wanted to cop a feel." Smoke teased, smirking at the natural switch of her hips as he followed her.

"Oh, get over yourself, Elijah Moore." Divine muttered, face heating up. "You're really not gonna tell me who slammed your door?"

"If I tell you, you'll drop it?" Smoke asked, leaning against the doorframe of her dimly lit room that's illuminated by her soft, warm floor lamp in the corner of her room. 

"Probably not." Divine mumbled, glancing at him and shrugging as she brought a few of her anime plushies from her bed to her closet in attempt to make more room for Smoke.

"You know what? I admire yo' honesty." Smoke chuckled, walking over to her bed and making himself comfortable on the unoccupied side of it—propping himself up against the headboard with one leg hanging off the side of the mattress. "C'mere." 

Divine closed the door of her closet, before rushing over to her designated side of the bed, cozying up beside Smoke.

"Tell me." Divine urged, excited to know what she's been wondering for the past hour.

"Malia."

"Why?" Divine pried, leaning closer. "Wait, don't tell me, yet. We're talking about the one with the short red hair, right?"

"Yes, Divine. That's her." Smoke chuckled, pulling her leg on his lap and rubbing her ankle.

"I called her over, we started fuckin', and while she was ridin' me, I called her “Di”."

"Oh my God." Divine grimaced, horrified. "Why in the hell would you do that?"

"I have no idea." Smoke muttered, the back of his head hitting the headboard. "I guess that's what happens when you got somebody in yo' face every damn day."

"Nigga, you was gone for a whole week with no contact." Divine sassed, "You had seven fucking days to reboot your mind and get rid of me, while you tryna get smart. What Stack had you doing down there at them ports, any-damn-way? Don't even try to lie, 'cause I still got your location from when I was making sure you was at the right place to pick up my food, a few weeks ago."

"Thank you for remindin' me that you still got my location, so I cut that bullshit off, nosey ass lil girl." Smoke pointed, slitting his eyes as she smirked proudly. "Stack ain't have me doin' shit." He couldn't help but to chuckle at his brother catching his second stray of the night. "I went down there to handle shit for the both of us."

"Drugs." Divine simply implied, rolling her eyes and making Smoke quirk a brow in amusement. "Anyways, you got that woman thinking I'm hopping on your dick every other night!"

"What's wrong wit’ that?" Smoke asked, biting back a smile while him and Divine held a brief stare-off. "I'm just askin'." He held his hand up in surrender when he saw she wasn't backing down.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you." Divine accused, tilting her head.

"Who wouldn't?" Smoke asked, laughing incredulously. 

"You know what..." Divine trailed off, making a spectacle of turning on her side and fluffing her pillow with an uncontrollable smile on her face. "I'm going to bed." She turned her lamp down two more levels with the remote that was on her nightstand. "I suggest you do the same." She grumbled, making sure her scarf is secure around the sides and edges of her high, voluminous puff.

"I knew you liked our lil sleepovers."

"I just know when you bring your ass over here this late, it ain’t no getting rid of you." Divine bit back, giggling as she made herself comfortable under her covers. "Get under here and go to bed. You get irritating as fuck when you sleepy. Childish, too."

"I’m nowhere near sleepy." Smoke lied.

Sure enough, Smoke was knocked out within three minutes, and Divine quickly followed. Around the 3:22 mark in the night, Smoke continued to sleep soundly, but the thunder from a storm that stirred up while they slumbered startled Divine awake.

"Shit!" Divine gasped, clutching her chest and sitting up to look out her window at the heavy rain that's picking up by the second. As she settled down her heart rate, she noticed that Smoke's soft snoring ceased.

"You good?" Smoke rasped, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"Yeah, I just—." Divine started, chuckling nervously, "That scared the shit outta me. I don't like sleeping when the weather gets bad like this." She confessed, trembling softly.

"C'mere."

Divine wasted no time moving closer, allowing Smoke to hold her against him with a secure hold around her waist. She began playing with his chain and listening to his breathing to distract herself.

"When it stormed coming up, Stack used to do the same shit." Smoke muttered, chuckling at the thought. "I used to be dead asleep, and wake up to him climbing in my bed talkin' bout he scared. I never made him feel bad for doing it, but shit, it pissed me off most nights."

"How long he did that for?" Divine asked softly, giggling at the thought of her big, charismatic boss looking to his brother for comfort. Not to tease, but to show how adorable she found the confession.

"I think 'til he was like sixteen." Smoke replied, smiling softly as Divine pressed her forehead against his lips. "One night, he just slept through it. Another came, and he did it again. I eventually asked him 'bout it and he cussed me out, so I guess he just grew out of it."

"I hope I grow out of it, too." Divine expressed under her breath, pressing a kiss onto Smoke's cheek. "Thank you for making me feel better."

"That wasn't exactly the goal, but I guess you welcome." Smoke joked, chuckling when she kicked at one of his legs that's tangled in hers. 

"I'm surprised you ain't run him out, knowing you."

"I'm not as mean as you make me out to be."

"Oh, yes you are, nigga!" Divine countered, giggling when he barked out a laugh. "Ok, I'm lying. You have your rare sweet moments."

"Exactly." Smoke chuckled. "Stop tryna downplay 'em. Especially since one of them rare ass moments was lettin' you talk me into fuckin' you."

"Oh, please. You were being overly dramatic, anyway." Divine sassed, lightheartedly rolling her eyes. "Guess what, we did it and left it alone. You were so convinced that I was gon' get attached, and I ended up playing it cordial with your ass for damn near six fucking months!" She got loud and in Smoke's face towards the end of her statement, making the man smack his lips and turn his head while trying to hide the smile that's fighting to make an appearance on his face. 

"Whatever, man."

"Just loud and wrong." Divine teased, tilting her head and smirking. "You didn't expect me to "get down to business, then go 'bout my day", huh?"

"I know damn well you didn’t just quote me."

"I did." Divine calmly retorted. "Just as much as I loved you fuckin' the shit outta me, I loved proving you wrong even more."

"Hm." Smoke hummed, smirking softly. Oddly, he's impressed. "Well played."

"I know." Divine cockily remarked. "Now that we established that I won, can you please eat my pussy?" She pleaded, dropping the "tough guy" act and softening her eyes in attempt to convince him.

Fortunately for Divine, Smoke didn't need much convincing. Hell, he actually didn't need any.

Divine's ragged breathing filled the air as Smoke pinned her down by her inner thighs—her legs spread so wide that the position is giving his insatiable mouth plenty of access to every single inch of her pussy.

Divine's chest heaved and she cupped her fleshy breasts that she freed from the top that's now bunched around her waist and completely disregarded. 

The feeling of Smoke's tongue whipping against her clit in tandem with his ring and middle fingers sinking in and out of her slick slit pulled a loud gasp from her entire being, her hips jerking harshly. 

The pleasurable frown on her face intensified when she felt the thick digits twist inside of her and the pads of them start to massage the spongy upper wall of her pussy while sucking at her soaked, swollen clit sloppily.

"Oh my God, Smoke." Divine moaned out in awe, stars bursting behind her eyelids. 

Smoke hummed in response, his free hand moving up her body and gripping her breast roughly. The roughness of his warm hand added extra stimulation to her aching nipple and before she knew it, she was gripping his wrist and bucking her hips against the rhythm of his tongue and fingers.

The sloshing between her legs intensified along with the maddening pace of Smoke's fingers. That paired with his skilled tongue roughly swirling against her clit had her writhing like crazy.

"Just like that, Elijaaah!" Divine cried, toes curling and muscles tightening as an abrupt orgasm threatened to crash down on her with sheer force. "Oh my G—!" She breathed, shuddering hard and biting her bottom lip for dear life when it finally made impact.

When Smoke didn't let up, still pressing his fingers against the soft surface and sucking her clit tenderly, Divine choked on a sob, clamping her legs shut around his fingers and twisting her body with her hands gripping her pillows above her head.

Smoke chuckled at her current state, placing open mouth kisses on her soft, plump ass cheek and upper thigh with his fingers still buried inside of her.

Smoke opened her legs back up after she finally regained all her senses, and nestled himself between them. He cupped her face, staring into her dilated eyes as he removed his soiled fingers from her pulsing center and brought them up to her lips. Divine wasted no time opening her mouth to clean them—her tongue outstretched and ready.

"Good fuckin' girl." Smoke grunted, dick twitching at the sight of her sucking his fingers into her mouth and swirling her tongue around them as if they were his dick. "You want som' else in this pretty ass mouth, huh?"

"Mmhm." Divine hummed, looking at him from under her lashes.

Divine practically wrestled him onto the bed, the two eagerly swapping places. She excitedly tugged off his shorts and pulled the bunched up material from around her waist before settling between his legs and taking his dick into her hand.

Divine smiled with excitement and determination, her mouth already watering at the hot and heavy length of him in her grip. She bit down on her bottom lip as she got into a comfortable position on her stomach.

"Wait." Smoke muttered, brows furrowing. "You know what you doing?"

"Well, I never had any complaints, so...I think so." Divine uttered under breath, shrugging. 

She’s engaged with oral sex with both of her “boyfriends”, but they weren't as big as Smoke. Even the dildo that she practiced on in the past wasn't as big as Smoke. With that being said, Divine don't know how in the hell this is going to turn out, but she’s somewhat confident in her abilities.

"Nah, you sound too unsure for me." Smoke remarked, looking down at her skeptically. "Don't bite my fucking dick off, Divine, or I—."

"Hush!" Divine whined. "You're making me nervous, and if I get nervous—! I don’t fucking know what I’ll do!" She stammered.

Smoke closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to resist the urge to laugh at her being overwhelmed in this very serious, but unserious situation.

“Just relax, and take yo’ time.” Smoke encouraged, attempting to calm her down. “Don’t rush, and…watch yo’ teeth, please.”

"I’m not stupid. All I need you to do is just tell me when or if something feels off or unpleasant." Divine told him, eyes flicking up to meet his after observing every inch of him. "I think I can take care of you, though, Smoke." She muttered, more so to herself as she tightened the grip on his shaft. 

Divine dragged her warm, wet tongue along the underside of his dick, even pivoting it a little to trace a vein she encountered on her path. Smoke watched her intensely as she traced his tip that's slick with his pre-cum, her eyes fixed on him and surveying his facial expressions.

From analyzing the way Smoke gave her head during her first time, she concocted a routine by relating what was pleasurable to her to what she’s researched on blowjobs in general: focus on the tip, suck as much as you can, make it sloppy (but not too sloppy), stroke what you can't, and if you're feeling bold—try to deep throat him. 

When she acted out the routine on her two "boyfriends", they seemed to love it. The only thing that she had to tweak was giving the balls attention. The first one told her to during the act, and when she tested it on the second without him having to, he had zero additional notes. Divine felt like she cracked the code!

Unfortunately, it didn't dawn on her at the time that there's some men with ridiculous sized dicks, Smoke being one of them. For some reason, she definitely didn’t anticipate having to suck Smoke’s down the line, anyway (despite literally fantasizing about doing so).

When Divine sucked him into her mouth, she lowered her head, drooled, and focused on relaxing and adjusting her jaws to his size. When she brought her head back up, hollowing her cheeks for gentle suction, her tongue dragged against the velvety skin, making Smoke release a heavy breath that definitely went straight to her head.

The friction grew almost nonexistent, Smoke's dick glistening with saliva, and Divine's head bobbing up and down his shaft with ease despite her jaws already starting to ache. It probably would’ve bothered her if Smoke didn’t sound so sexy moaning and groaning in her ear. While gripping the base firmly with one hand and twisting in short turns, she fondled his balls tenderly with the other.

"Gahdamn, Divine." Smoke moaned deeply, the sound sending a jolt right to her clit and prompting her to press her thighs together tighter to relieve the pressure between them. When her eyes fluttered closed, Smoke gripped her hair—gentle, but firm. "Nah, look at me." He breathed, chest heaving with his eyes locked on hers. “You so fuckin’ sexy, Di. What the Fuck?”

The sight of his gorgeous, dazed face led Divine to feel bold, therefore, she stuffed as much of his dick into her mouth that she could handle. When his tip hit the back of Divine's throat, his eyes rolled back into his skull.

"Fu—uuck." Smoke brokenly moaned, his stomach caving in as Divine gagged lightly. She retracted her head and spat on his dick before slurping it up from all sides of his length breathlessly. 

When she began stroking the soppy tip while licking and sucking on his drenched balls with a soft, teasing moan, his hips began to rise from the bed. 

"Uh uh. Bring yo’ ass here." He growled, practically yanking her up his body.

Divine giggled at his urgency, straddling him as he smashed his lips onto hers in pure desperation. She moaned into his mouth, raising her hips and reaching beneath her to grab his dick. She guided it along her slit, pressing the tip against her drooling center. Divine lowered her body and the second it breached her slit, she whimpered and Smoke's teeth sunk into her bottom lip gently.

Smoke held her close, grumbling a groan into her cheek. His hands roughly kneaded the flesh of her ass as his tongue traced her jawline and settled on the skin just beneath it. 

When he began sucking the area, Divine shakily gasped at the descending warmth down her spine colliding with the stretch and fullness that's currently being inflicted on her pussy the more she struggled to fully seat him inside of her. 

Once she was so stuffed with him that she felt she could barely breathe, she rolled her hips in a futile attempt to adjust. Her head and upper body fell back as she tried to focus on loosening her body completely while also trying not to cum from the intense heat sitting inside of her fluttering walls. 

Smoke lapped at one of her sensitive peaks before sucking it softly, causing Divine to release a shaky gasp and dig her fingers into his pillowy coils. She panted pathetically, her hands moving to Smoke’s shoulders when he began to slowly guide her hips towards a slow, sinful rhythm while giving her other nipple the same treatment. The dull ache mixed with that all too familiar itch being relieved made her shiver and claw at his skin, moaning helplessly.

“There you go.” Smoke drawled, relaxing his upper body against the headboard when Divine picked up where he left off, all on her own. “Just like that, pretty. My good fuckin’ girl.” He whispered, licking his lips and admiring the sight of her on top of him from beneath his lowered eyelids. 

Divine’s richly toned skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, and her voluptuous breasts appears to be making an effort of putting on a show just for him—bouncing beautifully to her messy, yet efficient rhythm.

“Y-You feel s’good inside of me, ‘Lijah.” Divine shakily whined, gripping his forearms for dear life as tears streamed down her face.

When the tip of his dick began to feel too damn good against her sensitive cervix, she reached back and placed her hands on his knees with her mouth parted, opening her legs and bouncing harder.

“Yeah.” Smoke breathed, gripping under her thighs and humming in approval at the sight of her painting, and slicking his dick with her milky arousal. “Ride the fuck out yo’ dick, Di.” He encouraged, biting back a moan as his eyes flicked back up to her blissed out face.

Divine moaned pathetically in response, sucking her shaky bottom lip between her teeth when it dawned on her that she’s really fucking close. Smoke feels it. The tightening of her thigh muscles paired with the pulses of her greedy walls around his stiff length.

“E-Elijah, I—.” Divine stuttered, not even knowing what she was about to say, legs shaking harshly. 

Smoke shushed her and pulled her soft body against him while scooting down and bending his knees. He began to hungrily thrust up into her from below, releasing a deep moan into her neck as she clawed at his arms with a muffled sob. 

“Yes! God, yes!” She cried into his neck, tears and drool hitting his shoulder as her toes curled.

“You cummin’ fa me, pretty?”

“Yes, baby!” Divine mewled, lifting her head and nodding feverishly with her eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck me, daddy! Please, make my pussy cum!”

Smoke grunted roughly at her plea, grabbing the nape of her neck and kissing her passionately. Divine’s muffled moans grew louder and more high pitched as she struggled to keep up with the wild, messy lip lock. 

Before she knew it, an intense wave of euphoric pleasure washed over her, prompting her to disconnect her swollen lips from Smoke’s. Divine  shuddered hard against Smoke’s solid frame, her forehead rolling against his with a guttural moan. Her pussy pulsed and leaked pathetically, the feeling making Smoke’s brows bunch and a soft, breathy “fuck” leave his lips.

“Keep going, baby. Don’t fucking stop.” Divine breathlessly pleaded, locking her leg around Smoke’s waist when he flipped them both on their side. Smoke hummed deeply, driving his dick in and out of her blissfully sore cavern without abandon, gripping the back of her hair. “Mmm, cum all in my fucking pussy, Elijah.” She slurred, damn near delirious.

“Shit, Di.” Smoke moaned deeply, pressing his head against hers. He used his free hand to lift her leg from his waist and hold it up for better access, tightly gripping her ankle. “You want it?” He grunted, his control slipping by the second as his his dick throbbed readily.

“So fucking bad, daddy. I dream about it. I need it.” Divine panted, her breathing intensifying and eyes rolling back into her skull with each rough, sloppy rut. “Uhh! Elijah!” She squealed, her leg flexing in Smoke’s strong hold. She reached back and gripped hard, tugging the sheet of her bed from the corner while bucking through another body shattering orgasm. “Elijah!” She sobbed, issuing the final blow to Smoke’s composure.

Smoke released an animalistic grunt into her neck, bringing his hand down on her ass and pulling her lower half flush to him. He moaned in euphoric relief, teeth sinking into the flushed skin as Divine purred at the feeling of the hot spurts of cum filling her to the brim.

“Damn, that feels—.” Divine breathed out, a lazy grin spreading across her face as she began grinding down on his dick that’s still twitching angrily inside of her along with his muscles. “Fuck, Elijah.” She cooed, gripping her breast roughly and slithering her tongue into his mouth when he placed his on hers, gripping the back of her neck.

“You goin’ to sleep in here?” Smoke asked lowly when he noticed the silence that filled the room, leaning up to get a view of Divine’s face from where she’s sitting between his legs, just to see her looking right back at him.

The water in the expansive tub that was once boiling hot (per Divine’s request) has since reached a barely enjoyable warmth as an indicator of the amount of time that’s passed with them in it.

“Nah, I just noticed the heartbeat you left in my pussy’s almost nonexistent.” Divine muttered, smiling softly when Smoke snickered at her realization.

“You be takin’ this muhfucka.” Smoke gave her props, smirking proudly. “It’s just the aftermath that do yo’ ass in. Shit, you asked for it, though. Remember that?” He asked in her ear, laughing when she swatted at his face.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Divine blushed, shaking her head and giggling. “I don’t even wanna think about it, right now.”

“You need to be thinkin’ ‘bout how we never use a condom ‘fore God make an example outta us.” Smoke lightheartedly fussed, making Divine roll her head against his chest with a loud groan. “This the second time, Di.”

“I didn’t expect to get fucked, tonight!” Divine defended. “I promise, I’m usually prepared. I don’t get down and dirty without one.” She assured him, making Smoke hum. “Where’s your accountability? You usually wear ‘em, right?”

“Oh course.” Smoke said in a “duh” tone, chuckling. “You thought I was fuckin’ three different women raw, all this time?”

“Well….”

“Divine, yo’ concept of me is so fucked up.” Smoke grumbled, shaking his head. Divine laughed at the disappointment in his tone. “I ain’t even laughin’.”

“I was just playing, Elijah.” Divine groaned, looking back at him and cupping his face with a smile. “I wouldn’t even be fucking you if I actually thought you were sexually irresponsible.”

“Don’t play wit’ me like that.”

“Man, shut up, crybaby.” Divine smacked her lips, giggling when he wrapped his hand around the front of her throat. Smoke smiled softly when her hands flew to his wrist, pinching at it. 

A comfortable silence engulfed the room after their playful banter died down. Divine gazed straight ahead, loss in thought as Smoke’s hands caressed her thighs mindlessly under the water.

“You think we’re gonna end up doing this again, Smoke?” Divine asked softly, reaching under the water and finding his hand—pleasantly surprised when he wasted no time locking their fingers.

“Yep.”

“Wanna make a deal?”

“Depends on the terms.” Smoke teased, smirking and tapping his forehead against the back of her head. “Talk to me.”

“We use protection with everyone, except for each other.” Divine offered. “Like, it can be our little secret, you know?” She went on, looking up at him and smiling softly. “You’re gonna have to stop being selfish and pull out though ‘cause I’m not fucking messing with any form of birth control.”

“Hol on, you was begging me to nut in you.” Smoke laughed at her trying to rewrite the script. 

“Yeah, and you were too damn ready to do it.” Divine sassed, chuckling. “Ok, we can indulge like two times a month.”

“Hell no.” Smoke scoffed. “Four.”

“Three.”

“Three, then.” Smoke grumbled, smirking softly at his next suggestion. “Shit, If we going down that road, we might as well cut out our third parties altogether.”

“You don’t do attachments, remember.” Divine reminded him, looking up at him with a quirked brow. “That sounds pretty damn close to an attachment, Elijah. Just me and you? No one else?” She went on, grinning when he smacked his lips and narrowed his eyes at her. "You attached, Elijah?"

“Look, I agree to the deal, but only wit’ my negotiations.” Smoke stated, dodging her question and shrugging to indicate finality. “We doin’ this, or not?”

“You know what? Fuck it.” Divine blurted, throwing her hands up in surrender after giving it minimal thought. “I’ll do it for the plot. Let’s lock it in.” She held her hand over her shoulder for him to shake.

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Smoke muttered, disregarding her hand and tilting her face up to meet his. 

The pair shared a slow, tantalizing kiss that sent chills down both of their spines. Once their tongues became intertwined, and Smoke’s touch grew to be outright pornographic, Divine moaned and quickly broke the kiss, shaking her head with a beaming smile. 

“What?” Smoke asked, grinning innocently as if he wasn’t trying to get Divine stirred back up. 

“Elijah, I’m fucking tired.” Divine stressed, giggling as she attempted to stand up on her wobbly legs. Meanwhile, Smoke’s eyes are dragging down her frame, admiring the way the soapy water is cascading down her luscious curves while biting back a smile. “Come help me with this shower, so we can take both our horny asses to bed.”

Smoke laughed and followed her out a few feet to the glass shower. After grabbing two washcloths from her shelf and making sure the water was to her liking, he walked her in with a tight grip around her waist, her arms around his neck, and their legs tangled together.

After Smoke slid the glass door closed behind them, Divine collapsed against him again, her face pressed to his damp chest.

“You’re a good neighbor, Smoke.” Divine murmured, hugging his waist tightly. “A good ass friend, too.”

Smoke cracked a soft smile at the praise, wrapping his arm around her neck and kissing her head to show his own usual, wordless appreciation in return.

A Good Neighbor, indeed…

And they live Happily Ever After (as FWB)! Yay! 🥰😭

If you're reading this, thank you so much for being here! ❤️

[hopefulandromantic]

Can you please pin ur master list?

Yes! I’m not really sure how to do that, but I will figure it out! 😩😭

[hopefulandromantic]

Good Neighbor

Featuring: Elijah “Smoke” Moore

Warnings: Smut + Age Gap (Smoke is 35 and Divine is 23)! Please, don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable! 🫶🏾

IN WHICH Divine asks her fine ass, older neighbor to take her virginity.

Please excuse any and all mistakes! 🙃

Divine's been Smoke's neighbor for about a year now—right across the hall from him.

One day, while she was still in the process of getting moved in, he felt like being kind enough to help her haul a few boxes into her apartment. He did and she noticed that he lived right across from her.

He’s been her go to ever since.

She knocks on his door if she needs something put together. Knock if she needs something heavy brought up. Knock if she needs sugar, or any other common kitchen ingredients that everyone should have. Knock if she needs to borrow money to order food (which she never pays back). Hell, she even knocks when she's bored.

It's gotten to the point that all three of the women Smoke’s currently juggling know of her, even initially asking if that's his little sister.

Of course, he introduces her as his irritating ass neighbor, to which their curiosity and amusement shifts to jealousy.

Smoke pays it no mind, knowing deep down that if it’s up to him, Divine isn’t going anywhere, but they can.

Smoke initially did find her annoying to a point, the younger reminding him of his twin, in a way. After getting to know her in depth, he understood her taking to him so quick.

Divine ran away from her family and hometown in North Carolina, settling in Chicago to get a fresh start in her twenty-three years of living.

In a world where seeing a man as safe isn't safe, he felt a sense of obligation—knowing that that wouldn't be the case for her.

Yes, he’s a little hard on her, especially since she works most of her nights at a well known, local gentleman's club.

Through all of that protectiveness and strictness, Divine notices and appreciates that he cares and looks out for her.

At the end of the day, she’s a good girl with a good head on her shoulders, so doing so isn't too hard.

Like, what feels like, clockwork, his carefree day of leisure is interrupted by someone wanting access to him.

Impatient knocks on his door urged Smoke to toss his PS5 controller aside, releasing a huff of air from his nose. He pulled his sagging sweats up on his hips, trudging to the front door.

"Wait a damn minute." Smoke grumbled just as they started up again. He swung it open, already knowing that Divine is behind it.

"What the fuck do you want, lil girl?" Smoke gritted, irritation all over his face and that usual Southern bite deep in his gruff tone. "You can't be banging on my do' like som' wrong!"

"Damn, can you calm down?" Divine sassed with a soft frown and eye roll. "Something is wrong. This is serious, Smoke."

"Life or death?"

"Uh...no, but—." Divine was cut off by Smoke closing the door in her face, smirking softly at the fact that he knows she's internally throwing a fit. "Smoke, please!" She whined, making him roll his eyes and pull the door back open.

Smoke stepped aside, silently giving her permission to enter.

Divine sauntered in like she owned the place, her black, plush Victoria’s Secret slippers sliding against the floor loudly.

She's currently wearing some light blue, Smurf printed shorts that are too damn short, and a white, cropped tank top that's barely containing her full, generous breasts and resting just above her soft, pudgy stomach.

Divine plopped down on his couch, releasing a loud, dramatic sigh as she sprawled out all of her limbs.

Smoke shook his head with a soft scoff, sitting down and manspreading in his previous spot.

Divine released an even louder sigh when she noticed that he picked his controller back up and unpaused the game.

"I'm 'spose to ask you what's wrong?"

"Yes."

Smoke cut his eyes over at her, pausing the game that he just unpaused to see what's her issue.

"What's wrong, Divine?" Smoke asked with concern so false that it came out sounding almost forced.

"Ugh, It's stupid."

"Girl, just tell me what the hell wrong wit' you."

"Fine." Divine sat up with a huff, looking over at Smoke with a pout. "I'm tired of being a virgin."

Smoke's brows furrowed, and he tilted his head in visible confusion as she looked down at her slippers.

"You a virgin, D?"

He’s not blind. The young woman is very attractive.

Rich brown skin. Thick, black coils that she keeps done in bold, natural styles. Big, soft brown eyes and full, plush lips. Curvaceous, thick frame. In addition, she's intelligent and has an extremely likable personality (even though Smoke will never tell her that).

There's also been a few men that she brought around, so he just assumed that she had to be serious with at least one of them.

"Yeah." Divine muttered. "I know. It's fucking embarrassing. A grown ass virgin that gotta sit back and...miss out!" She rambled.

“Ain’t nothing wrong wit’ being a virgin, Divine.” Smoke reassured her with an amused chuckle. “It ain’t that serious.”

“It’s serious when I have desires that aren’t being fulfilled, Elijah.” Divine sassed, saying his government almost like it disgusted her at the moment. “I’m at my limit.”

"So, you ready to fuck?" Smoke spoke—half questioning, and half asking for confirmation. "I mean, have sex." He caught and censored himself, gritting his teeth apologetically.

"See?"

"What?"

"That! Don't...treat me like a fucking child. Like an inexperienced, fragile teenager, or something!" Divine spat with a frown, making Smoke shake his head, and fight the urge to mock her despite understanding where she’s coming from.

“I hear you.” Smoke grumbled, looking back over at her and returning his full attention to her.

"Yes, I wanna fuck. I wanna be fucked. I wanna be fucked so good that I can…barely walk the next day! I don’t know!" Divine went on passionately, throwing her arms in the air and dropping them.

"So...." Smoke trailed off, shrugging. "You want me to help you ask one of yo’ lil boyfriends to…fuck you?”

"No, Smoke." Divine said firmly, straightening her spine to boldly deliver her next words. "I want you to fuck me."

Smoke froze in shock, but a smile made its way onto his face as he eventually let out a small laugh.

When he realized that she isn’t laughing along and is serious, the most serious he’s seen her since they met, his smile faltered and his heart dropped.

“Wait, fo’real?”

“I’m not laughing, Elijah.” Divine said stiffly, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I'm not fucking you, D."

"What?" Divine asked, the disbelief and shock from the rejection evident in her tone. "Why? Come on! I-I trust you, Smoke! I know you won't hurt me, and—. Oh my God." She paused and frowned deeper. "You think I'm ugly."

Smoke smacked his lips, letting his head hit the cushion behind him with an audible groan.

"Nah, don’t “ahhughh”!” Divine spat, mocking his groan.

Caught off guard, Smoke barked out a laugh. He dropped his head in a fit of snickers as she pushed his shoulder with a mug.

“Bro, what the fuck?” Smoke wheezed in a fit of laughter.

“That's basically what the fuck you telling me!"

"Just because I don't wanna fuck you, don't mean you ugly, Divine." Smoke retorted with a chuckle.

"Is it because of my age?"

"Eh, in a way, I guess." Smoke admitted with a subtle shrug after thinking about it. "I don't have time for attachment and shit. It piss me off, honestly. I ain't tryna stereotype you, or virgins in general, but like....I like my women experienced. I like women who know how to get down to business, then gon’ ‘bout they day.”

“Smoke, that’s so me!”

“Girl, you don’t fucking know that ‘cause you never had to do it before.” Smoke tilted his head, giving her a bored look.

"Well, nigga, I can learn!"

"Divine, it's not that simple." Smoke said with an amused chuckle. "I'm sure there's plenty of niggas 'round yo' age that—"

"I knew I shouldn't have brought this up to you." Divine muttered, shaking her head with a scoff. "Should've just asked Stack."

"Who?" Smoke asked, raising a brow and lifting his head to properly look at her like she lost her damn mind.

“Bingo!” Divine thought, fighting the urge to smirk.

"Nobody."

"Don't fucking play wit' me, Divine." Smoke said sternly, making her roll her eyes with the soft, prideful smirk that she couldn’t resist.

The jokes on him, actually. He isn't scaring her, he's actually making her want to be fucked more. He doesn't even know why that remark irritated him so much. He just knows that it did.

"Look, I came to you because you're the only man that I trust with this. I trust you with me, and…I trust you to be honest, I guess.” Divine spoke seriously, looking away and fiddling with her long, black acrylic nails. "If you don't want to do it, that's fine. I'll just try to take your earlier advice. You can just give me pointers, or some shit, at least." She stressed, releasing a soft, anxious sigh at the thought.

“You can’t just play wit’ yourself?”

“It’s not the same.” Divine admitted with defeat. “It’s like there’s an itch there that I can’t scratch, Elijah.” She grumbled, sinking back into the couch and deflating.

Smoke stared over at her, lost in thought as he nibbled on the inside of his cheek. Divine shook her head as she stared at the ceiling.

When she sat up to speak again, attempting to change the subject, Smoke cut her off.

“You sure you want to?” Smoke asked with a never before seen tenderness that made her visibly freeze and her eyes to light up.

“Yeah.” Divine breathed out, nodding feverishly. “I-I do. I’m so sure.” She rushed out, softly smiling.

"Bet." Smoke said with a "fuck it" shrug and a heavy exhale. "C'mere."

Divine barely let him get his words out before she leapt onto his big, bulky frame.

Smoke firmly gripped her hips as she straddled him, staring down at him and biting back her smile. She don’t want to come off as too excited. She definitely don’t want to show just how much she’s been secretly dreaming and fantasizing about this.

Smoke stared up at her and examined her with so much intensity that Divine grew convinced that he’s reading her mind just as thoroughly as he’s reading her physical.

"You know how to kiss, right?"

"A little." Divine said softly, making him nod.

"Show me."

Divine leaned down, smashing her lips onto his. Smoke attempted to set the rhythm, but her eagerness overtook him, making him grip her neck firmly to physically try and slow her down.

When she didn’t get the message, a soft laugh slipped out of him, making her pull back and look down at him with a sheepish smile.

“You actin’ greedy as hell, right na.”

“Sorry.” Divine muttered quickly before leaning down, grabbing his face and gently locking her lips onto his—desperate to correct herself.

Divine began to follow Smoke’s lead and pace, her brows furrowing slightly at the newness of him introducing tongue.

When she got the hang of it to a point, the awkwardness seemed to fade as she melted into him, moaning softly and demanding more.

Smoke hummed softly in approval when she began to move her lips and tongue fluidly against his, gripping her hips with one hand and the front of her neck with the other.

This grip of her neck held an entirely different energy.

The warmth from the firm hold and the small, sexy sound of praise went straight to her core that's already hot, pulsing, and ready.

"Get up." Smoke rasped against her lips, nipping at her bottom one as she stared at him, dazed.

"Why?"

“We gotta get out these clothes to fuck, Divine." Smoke muttered with a soft laugh, causing her face to heat up.

"Oh…I knew that." Divine muttered, standing to her feet and giving Smoke the space to do so, as well.

Divine pulled her tank top over her head, letting her luscious globes fall free without shame.

Her nipples are erect and already stiff from the heightened sexual tension in the room.

Stripping herself bare for Smoke held a type of exhilaration that’s entirely different than doing it to make money at the club.

Her eyes fell on Smoke's heavenly sculpted torso as he tossed his hoodie to the side.

The sight of his gold chain against his gorgeously bronzed skin and his arm muscles flexing with minimal movement nearly made her mouth water.

Smoke noticed that she was staring and quirked a brow with a soft smirk. Divine flirtatiously smiled and turned her back to him, looking back to see him hungrily watching her shimmy out of her shorts and panties while he got rid of his sweats—leaving him in his grey briefs.

Smoke was behind her before she could even attempt to turn her front back in his direction.

A giggle slipped from Divine’s lips as he gripped her hair, loving the weight and presence of him hot and heavy against her backside.

“Call yo’self teasing me, lil girl?”

“I’m just doing what you told me to do, Elijah.” Divine said softly, feigning innocence while looking back at him and batting her wispy lashes.

Smoke hummed with a soft smirk, pulling her towards his dimly lit bedroom—the only light illuminating it being from his TV’s screensaver. He threw her onto the bed before looming over her and slotting himself between her legs, kissing her with slow, teasing intensity.

The anticipation made Divine whimper against his lips and lock her legs around him, chasing the friction that occurred whenever her swollen clit brushed against the bulk of him in his briefs with gentle shifts of her wide hips.

"Ever got yo’ pussy ate?" Smoke asked against her lips.

"Yeah, but I didn’t like it." Divine said with a soft whimper.

“What you ain’t like about it?” Smoke asked curiously, reaching between her legs and gathering some of her slick onto his thumb before circling it around her aching clit.

The sound of her breath hitching made his dick twitch in its confines, the man licking his lips as his eyes stayed locked with hers.

“It didn’t…feel like anything. It was really wet, too. Like, entirely too much spit.” Divine breathlessly giggled at the memory with a pleasurable sigh from Smoke’s ministration. “The only thing my pussy really likes is when I hump my pillow.” She admitted shyly, earning a chuckle from Smoke.

“I wanna see som.” Smoke muttered, giving her a light kiss. “I’m gon’ eat yo’ pussy. That’s okay wit’ you?”

Divine reluctantly nodded, scooting back and spreading her legs wider to give him more access.

When it comes to Smoke, she’s convinced she’d let him do anything that he wanted to do to her.

Divine sat up on her elbows, tilting her head as she watched his gaze brush over every inch of her pussy that’s wet and flushed from arousal.

Before she could ask him what he was looking at, Smoke spoke.

“Pretty.” Smoke muttered, that one word making her blush like crazy. Just as she started to shyly clamp her legs close, he held her open with a firm grip on her thighs and dove in.

Divine gasped and jumped softly in shock when his tongue brushed her clit.

He did that a few times, his deep brown eyes locked on her face, taking mental notes of every soft sound and movement she made.

Smoke swirled his tongue against it, making Divine press her hips down more towards his tongue as her mouth fell open.

“Shit.” Divine whined, head falling back and her hand gripping a fistful of his soft, grown out coils.

A loud, shameless moan shot out towards the ceiling when he suckled the nub sloppily, the sound of the action lewd and nasty.

“I think she likes my mouth, baby.” Smoke teased, earning a sultry and eager “mmhm!” from Divine.

Smoke used the notes that he took from her bodily responses and incorporated them into a messy, intricate rhythm that he unleashed on her entire pussy greedily.

Divine squirmed and bucked against his mouth, releasing sounds and cries that she didn’t even know she could muster.

The delicious, achy buildup in her core left her speechless as she tugged at the sheets above her head, mouth hung open and face twisted into a helpless frown of ecstasy.

Suddenly, her taut muscles went limp and she deeply shuddered as she let the coil of pleasure snap free.

Smoke hummed against her pussy and she let out a soft yelp, slapping the bed before gripping his hair with both hands.

Divine jerkily bucked her hips as she rode out the aftershocks against his flattened tongue and tender suction.

Smoke ceased the beautiful torture and kissed her inner thighs with a smirk as a breathless Divine shivered and dropped her hands down to rub his broad shoulders.

“You cum so fuckin’ pretty.” Smoke groaned softly, kissing up her body and placing kisses on her nipples before taking one in his warm mouth.

Divine arched into him with a soft moan, pussy pulsing when his teeth grazed the sensitive peak. He moved to the other, giving it the same attention as Divine pinched the one he just left.

"I think you ready for some dick, Divine." Smoke teased softly, making her let out a breathy giggle.

“Don’t treat me like a virgin.” Divine reminded him as he stood to his feet, removing his briefs. Her eyes locked on his dick, and her eyes lit up in disbelief.

It's at least eight and a half inches—thick with veins canvassing the smooth, deep, velvety skin. The sight should’ve scared the shit out of her, but instead, it made her stomach churn and clit pulse with excitement.

“The message still stands.” Divine sassed when she locked eyes with Smoke, noticing his silent, cocky demeanor.

“Ok.” Smoke said with a soft shrug, crawling back between her legs. “I'm not gon' baby you, but imma be careful."

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“It’s not, girl.” Smoke shot back, smacking his lips. “Shut up.”

"Yes, sir." Divine sarcastically retorted with a giggle.

“You ready?”

“Smoke, I been ready.” Divine fussed, rolling her eyes. “I can take it. If that change, I’ll let you know.”

Smoke wordlessly nodded, releasing some nerves of his own.

"The more you relax, the easier it'll go in."

“I know.” Divine moaned softly, melting into the sensation of him softly rubbing her clit with his thumb.

Divine closed her eyes and breathed deeply, gasping at the dull ache and pressure that followed her slit trying to accommodate him as he breached her entrance.

"Loosen—there you go." Smoke whispered through a strained groan as Divine let her body go limp despite the grimace on her face.

The buildup of her slick arousal reduced the friction tremendously, allowing him to sink the rest of himself into her with ease, but the full feeling and the way her pussy is struggling to mould around the heaviness of him made her toes curl.

"Look at you." He praised lowly, watching and feeling her pussy struggle around his length.

Divine released a loud sound of discomfort as she adjusted to the intrusion, digging her nails into Smoke’s back when he leaned down to kiss from her lips and jawline.

"You doing good. Real good, pretty." Smoke whispered in her ear, rubbing her thigh with one hand and brushing his thumb against her cheek with the other.

As the discomfort subsided, the throbbing heat inside of her made her let out a soft moan despite the foreign sensation.

Smoke took that as his cue to lift his head, pull out to the tip, and slowly sink back into her.

His forehead pressed against hers as he watched her brows dip and mouth part at the feeling of adjusting to multiple things.

The stretch. The fullness. The ache that’s no longer rooted in discomfort and seemingly felt to get soothed with each passage of his dick against her walls and cervix.

Before they both knew it, Smoke had picked up a steady pace and Divine’s back was arching off the bed—her body chasing more.

"Oh my God." Divine lewdly moaned. "Feels so good, Smoke. You feel so good inside of me. Oh my fucking—!" She squealed, legs trembling in his hold.

“Fuck, D.” Smoke hissed at her walls clenching and sucking him deeper as she shuddered with another orgasm and a broken, deep moan.

Smoke pulled out, earning a whine of displeasure from Divine from the loss. He’d be damned if he slip up and nut in her. He never did it before, and he has no intention of doing it tonight.

“I want more, Elijah.” Divine moaned shamelessly as he flipped her over, a little bemused at how needy she is for her first time. Divine arched her back deeply, rambling softly about his dick and how much she wants it.

“I got you, baby. I’m givin’ it to you.” Smoke muttered, placing a hand on the back of her neck and sinking back into her, earning a muffled, satisfied mewl from Divine and a shaky exhale from him.

Smoke didn't think Divine's virgin ass falling apart on his dick would be this sexy.

"Oooh, yes, Smoke!” Divine moaned when he began to pound into her after gradually picking up the pace, her toes curling tightly. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She squealed with each thrust.

The sexy sounds of her moans and the squelching of her drenched pussy made Smoke’s head tip back, a soft, barely audible “shit” leaving his lips.

“This some good ass pussy.” Smoke grunted more so to himself. “Fuck, Divine.”

His large hands flew to her hips, holding her right where he wanted her as he pistoned into her harder.

"Yes, Elijah!" Divine moaned loud and desperate, looking back at him and digging her nails into his arm with her face still pressed against the bed. "Fuck my pussy! Fuck my fucking pussy!" She sobbed, tears of pure ecstasy soaking her face.

The sight of her boohoo crying from his dick rewired something in his brain. He's never seen anything so sexy—so desperate.

Yeah, he's had some of his flings shed a few tears here in there, but full on sobbing has his dick throbbing like crazy.

He's now in an internal war to keep from painting every inch of her walls with his kids, as well as holding off long enough to continue hearing those sweet, pathetic moans.

Smoke snatched her up by her hair and put her in a headlock as she softly trembled against him. “Give it to me." He spat in her ear. "Gimme this shit."

"Smoke, I gotta pee! Fuck!" Divine cried out, not sure if she wants to push him back or beg him not to stop.

Smoke muttered a soft "uh uh", prompting her to gladly choose the latter because it just feels too good. Plus, she trusts him.

"Right there! Don't stop, Smoke, imma—!"

As soon as his dick began fighting against the attempted expulsions of Divine's squirting pussy, he slammed deep into her—releasing with a loud, primal moan that mixed beautifully with her broken, high pitched yell and spurts of fluid.

Divine collapsed on the bed with, breathless sobs—her body trembling and nails digging into any part of him that she could reach back and grab as he fucked his seed deeper into her with ragged, jerky thrusts.

Smoke collapsed beside her after they both came down, chuckling softly at her appearing boneless where she lay with her eyes closed—absolutely wrecked and dazed.

Smoke slid out of her, spreading her open to admire the way his seed is leaking from her sweet, swollen pussy.

The sight made him shake his head, laughing lightly at the fact that he did exactly what he told himself he wasn’t gonna go.

Honestly, he doesn’t even have the energy to trip on it. He’ll just DoorDash her a Plan B later.

Smoke went into his bathroom and started the shower. He stepped back into his bedroom, scooping Divine up. She shifted awake, pressing a kiss onto his shoulder that’s damp with sweat as she locked her legs around his waist.

“Thank you, Smoke.” Divine’s hoarse voice croaked out. “Thank you.” She whispered.

Smoke simply kissed her forehead in response, standing her under the water as he got in himself, sliding the glass door closed behind them.

I know I said that I was going to be a one and done ass bitch on here, but ovulation compelled me to write a little something inspired by thoughts of Smoke taking my virginity 😔

BIG THANK YOU TO EVERYONE READING THIS! 🫶🏾❤️ I’m still not sure what I’m doing, but I’m still extremely appreciative of you all! 😭

Thank you for reading my shitty ass smut and indulging in my shitty ass fantasies! 🥰

[hopefulandromantic]

Another Night (2)

Featuring: Elias “Stack” Moore

Thank you for all of the likes and comments! I just recently sat down and took all of them in and I'm extremely grateful. 🥹

It didn't feel right leaving it off without a resolution, so here's a short one! The best thing about writing your own stuff is that there can always be happy endings and everyone falls in love! Hehe 🥰

Please excuse any mistakes!

Ava's heels clicked against the hardwood floors of Smoke & Ink as the chime of the front door alarm dissipated behind her.

After a long morning in the office working on a few upcoming cases, she now has time to get to the bottom of why it's been going on three days without a response from Elias Moore. She's been to every spot he frequents and/or owns, even his damn home, only to come up empty handed each time.

The reflection of the man, Smoke, glanced at her without even fully turning his head as she moved closer to him. He dipped the needle into his cap of ink with a soft chuckle, going back to tattooing his client's leg.

"Good afternoon, counselor."

"Hey, Smoke." Ava released a breath that she didn't even know she was holding, crossing her arms across her chest as she watched him work. "Damn, is he sleep?" She asked with her brows furrowed, noticing the man he's working on with AirPods in while snoring away softly.

"He a regular." Smoke muttered with a soft shrug, glancing over at her again. "You need som' or...?"

"Oh, no!" Ava blurted out with a nervous giggle. She didn't think about how someone may take their lawyer popping up on them out of the blue. "I've just been trying to get in contact with your brother. Have you...seen him?" She asked, playing it cool.

"Depends..." Smoke trailed off, sitting up straighter when he went to dip the needle again. "He in trouble?"

"No trouble." Ava assured him. "We just have a few things to discuss."

Smoke's eyes lingered on her in a way that screamed he knows it's more to her reason. His gaze flicking to the engagement ring on her finger confirmed it. Yet, he went back to work without acknowledging it, making Ava look down at her feet with her face hot.

"Last time I seen him in person was yesterday." Smoke started. "You check over at the new lounge?"

"He got another lounge?"

"He told me he was gon' run the paperwork and shit by you." Smoke said in a firm tone, looking over at her with a raised brow. "He didn't consult you?" He asked with that fatherly edge she notice slips through with matters involving the younger twin.

"No need to stress about it. I'm sure he just didn't get around to it." Ava attempted to reassure him, making him shake his head with a deep breath. "I'll stop by and see. What's the address?"

Ava parked on the side of the white brick building, right behind Stack's black 2026 Cadillac CT5. She took in the exterior of the building before walking in to see the construction and renovation going on in the interior.

While the respective people worked, the man himself is currently slouched in one of the stools at the bar, thumbing through multiple sheets of very important papers with a seriousness that only comes from him when it pertains to money and business.

The distinctive clicks of Ava's heels caught his attention, his head hesitantly turning in her direction. When they locked eyes, he sat up with a small huff, determined to continue not talking to her.

"This the paperwork you was supposed to run by me?" Ava asked, leaning against the counter—her long, acrylic nail tapping against one of the many papers.

"Smoke and his big fat mouth." Stack thought, releasing a puff of air from his lips. "She is my lawyer, at the end of the damn day."

"Yeah." Stack muttered, gathering it all up and tapping it against the surface. "Just finished signing all of it." He held the stack out to her without looking her in the eye.

Ava's eyes lingered on his face as she snatched it from his grip. Her skilled, trained eyes skimmed through the words—mentally taking note of important clauses and information.

Stack tried to resist the intoxicating scent of her perfume and familiar warmth radiating from her body, the struggle being a testament of how hard avoiding her has actually been for him.

"Looks good." Ava said with a nod, placing the papers back down. "Next time, don't sign anything until after I go over it. You know the drill, so I don't even know where your head was." She muttered the last part, rolling her eyes as she checked her vibrating phone.

"I did business with this man before, Ava." Stack retorted. "Multiple times, actually."

"Still ain't smart to just blindly hand him more of your money, Elias." Ava argued, moving to the stool beside him and sitting down. "You know how many clients I had that got fucked by a person they did business with multiple times?"

Stack smacked his lips, looking over at her with lightly slitted eyes.

"Why you here?"

"Why you acting weird?"

"I ain't acting weird." Stack insisted with a dry chuckle. "I'm taking care of business, as you can see." He motioned throughout the room.

"Mmhm. Definitely acting weird." Ava said more so to herself, eyes raking across his broad, muscular frame that's clad in a Nike tracksuit. "I don't like being ignored. You throw a fit when you feel it's being done to you, so what makes you think it's ok to do it to me?"

"Maybe my feelings on it changed."

"Your feelings on ignoring someone changed." Ava repeated with a humorless chuckle. "So, you don't see anything wrong with it anymore?"

"Mmhm."

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Ava snarled, glaring at him intensely. "Be a man and tell me where the fuck this petty little attitude is coming from."

"Want me to tell you? I'll tell you." Stack nodded with a forced smile. "I'm tired of this shit, Ava. I can't keep...fucking you like I been doing, then waking up to you not even being there the next day.—"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Ava cut him off before he could even get any further. "That's what the hell you wanted, Stack! You knew I was fucking engaged—."

"A shitty ass engagement by the way." Stack cut in with a dry chuckle. "One that you don't even wanna fucking go through wit'."

"That's not the point!" Ava spat, making Stack shake his head and look away with a deep sigh. "You got involved. You made shit personal. You could've left me and my shitty ass relationship alone! You chose to fall in love, o-or whatever the fuck got you acting pissy!" She stressed, the words cutting Stack deep—knowing they're true.

Stack's jaw and throat tightened before he caught it, redirecting his hurt towards returning the favor—hurting her feelings as much as she just hurt his.

"I did." Stack admitted with a cocky, arrogant smirk. "And you let me in, Ava." He said with a finality that made Ava's chest burn with anger. "You don't have to worry 'bout me no mo', though. Just upgrade that shitty engagement to a shitty marriage, and handle my legal issues or some shit in between." He basically dismissed her as she stared at him with a stunned look.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"I'm so fucking serious." Stack replied in that same flat, dismissive tone that made her heart sink.

"Fuck you." Ava sneered, swiping the papers from the counter with a fluid motion that sent them flying into the air as she stormed towards the front door.

"Fuck you!" Stack hissed behind her, releasing an annoyed growl when she slammed the glass door hard enough that it could've disintegrated from the impact.

Stack's gaze lingered longingly in the direction she went while Ava got into her car and sobbed with a mixture of confusion, sadness, and pure frustration—snatching her ring off and chucking it against the dashboard with a scream.

two months later

Two months. Two months since she called off the engagement.

Telling the mayor's egotistical, self absorbed son that she no longer wanted to be his wife was just as challenging as she thought it'd be. It ended with stalking, obsessive behavior that she ended up having to get a restraining order against, and a smear campaign against her and her firm as retaliation by his rich and "powerful" family.

In a moment when Ava should be paranoid and watching her back, she feels the best she's ever felt in a long time. Her life is still mostly work, but after, it's nothing. Nothing isn't scary like she thought it'd be.

"Well, if you don't have any more questions for me, Mr. Jones, we're all done here!" Ava beamed, standing and reaching across her desk to firmly shake the man's hand. "I can assure you that I'm doing everything in my power to make sure things work in your favor. I will see you Thursday."

After sending her last client of the day out of her door, Ava released an exhausted sigh, taking off her glasses and placing her face in her hands.

Before she could unwind, knocks filled her door, forcing her to put her glasses back on in a rush.

"Come in!" Ava called out, clearing her throat and smoothing the front of her dress. She gave her assistant, Kaylin, a closed lipped smile when she poked her head in with an apologetic one.

"Mr. Moore wants to know if you can squeeze him in for a few minutes."

"Which one?" Ava asked, swallowing harshly at the thought of Stack. They've been amazing being  cordial, and that's shown in the two times they've met up professionally since their back and forth.

"Elias, m'am."

Ava checked her clock to see that it's a little after seven. She's been at her office since seven in the morning, so she should be turning anyone away and heading home to unwind and get some much needed rest.

Even on a business level, she could never turn away Stack. That's one thing that surely lingered from...whatever the hell they had going on.

"Um..." Ava trailed off as she straightened up her desk, filing papers in their appropriate places. "Sure. Send him back, please, hun." She muttered, standing up and shuffling over to her filing cabinet the best she could in her heels.

After stowing away folders, she rushed over to her desk and grabbed her phone—fluffing her blown out curls on her shoulders and checking if her lipstick is still in place.

When the doorknob turned, she quickly put her phone down and sat down, clasping her hands with a tight, polite smile at the man waltzing into her space.

"Good evening, Mr. Moore."

"Evenin'." Stack greeted, looking around the office with his hands behind his back as he took long, drawn out strides up to her desk.

"May I ask what's the reasoning behind this impromptu meeting?" Ava asked curiously, brows furrowing slightly at his current demeanor.

Stack suddenly pulled a glass vase from behind him and sat it on the desk, revealing a full, luxurious bouquet of roses.

Ava couldn't fight the smile that made its way onto her face, Stack also smiling at the sight of her sliding the vase closer and admiring the vibrant flowers.

"Look at that pretty ass smile." Stack teased, placing his palms on her desk with a grin. "They'll never be pretty as you, though." He muttered, nodding his head towards the flowers.

"Wait a minute...." Ava caught herself, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. "What's all this for?"

"What?" Stack asked, playing clueless as he stalked behind her desk with a sly smirk. "The flowers?"

"Elias Moore." Ava said in a warning tone that wouldn't be able to come off as serious even if she tried. She attempted to stand and run around the other side of the desk, giggling when he grabbed her waist and pulled her body against his.

Ava wriggled in his grip, huffing and refusing to look him in the eye when she realized he wasn't letting her go.

"Look at me." Stack said lowly in that tone that she never could resist. Ava bit the inside of her cheek, finding the internal strength to finally lock eyes with him. "I been thinkin' 'bout you." He admitted, making her face heat up. "I'm sorry."

Ava released a soft hum, nodding with her lips pressed firmly together.

"I'm sorry, too." Ava said just above a whisper, fiddling with his chain anxiously before locking eyes with him again. "So...what? We doing this again?"

"Sounds like you're suggesting we do this again."

"This whole damn gesture was the suggestion, Stack." Ava snapped, face softening when he laughed at her sassiness. "Don't play with me." She gently slapped him with a small smile.

"No games." Stack said sternly, grabbing her hand and kissing it. "I don't know how this relationship shit work, but we gon' do it the right way. "

"We're in a relationship?"

"That's what I just said."

"Tell me your idea of a relationship, while you popping up out of the blue and demanding that we be in one." Ava told him with an amused look, cupping his face. "I'm curious."

"It wasn't a demand. It was a suggestion, like you said it was."

"You slick talking ass—."

"It's a surprise, mama." Stack joked, nipping at her cheek as she giggled at his silliness. "No bullshit, though. I promise. I just know I can finally admit I want you, and I wanna show you." He muttered, placing his forehead against hers.

"I want you, too, Stack." Ava said softly, palming the nape of his neck when he initiated a slow, passionate kiss. "I want you, too." She breathed out against his lips.

[hopefulandromantic]

Oh, what I would give to watch Rebel Ridge for the first time again! 😩 The chokehold that movie had on me is unreal 😭

[hopefulandromantic]

Another Night

Featuring: Elias “Stack” Moore

Hi, everyone who’s reading this! 😚 Slight disclaimer, I in no way, shape, or form consider myself a writer (as you can see from my incorrect dialogue and em dash usage) 🤣 This is my first time posting work on Tumblr and my first time posting work in general since I was around 15 y/o! 😭 I also never wrote/published smut before, so not too much on me!

I was just bored and decided to write a small prompt about fine, trifling ass modern Stack fucking a fine, equally trifling ass woman that he’s trying to deny deeper feelings for. Ava’s just a name that I chose at random, so she can be any archetype of black women that you imagine!

I appreciate any and all respectful feedback! This will most likely be my one and only piece of work that I publish cause I just wanted to see what it’s like! 😂🫶🏾

TW: Cheating/Infidelity!

Ava cooed helplessly, clenching the sheets as if they’re the only thing anchoring her to reality, at the moment.

The side of her face is pressed firmly against the plush mattress, drool seeping from her parted lips. Her breathy pants and moans are coming out shaky and clipped—pleasure encapsulating her entire being.

“Mhm.” Stack hummed in satisfaction at her current state. So pliant. Receiving everything her man’s failed to offer. His gold teeth caught the moonlight that slipped into his dimly lit room, the mischievous grin on his face proud and unmoving. “He don’t fuck you like this, huh?”

Kase, the boyfriend that has completely slipped her mind since Stack’s filled his space for the night. Ava whimpered, shaking her head weakly.

“No, baby.” Ava moaned, reaching underneath her and rubbing her swollen clit. “Fuck, he don’t.” She whined, her pussy clenching around Stack as if it’s signaling him that she’s reaching her limit.

“Nah.” Stack murmured, swatting her arm from under her and pinning her hands over her head.

He placed his full body weight on her and caged her against the bed—pressing her firmly against the surface and reminding her that she isn’t going anywhere and, most importantly, that he’s in control.

“Ooh!” Ava sobbed, tears accumulating at her waterline. The sudden change in his position has her feeling even more full—his dick sinking even deeper due to how connected their bodies are.

“I want my pussy to cum from this dick alone.” He breathed out into her ear, making Ava shiver and cry out as he began grinding into her slow and deep. “You know how I like it. You had me mistaken for yo’ nigga, just now, Ava?” He drawled, the Southern heat in his low, seductive tone making Ava’s eyes flutter.

“No, Stack.” Ava sobbed, reaching back and desperately gripping at any part of him to cling to. “I-I’m sorry, baby.”

“I know, mama.” Stack muttered with a dark chuckle. “Can’t be fucking up like that. You know damn well you don’t need to do no extra work when I’m fuckin’ you. All I gotta do is—.”

Stack started slamming into her harder, drawing a muffled scream from Ava. He grunted into her neck, biting and sucking every part of her skin his mouth has access to.

Ava’s legs trembled and twitched beneath him, and her toes curled tightly as she babbled mindlessly. She doesn’t know what the hell she’s saying, and Stack doesn’t either—too busy losing the control he was sure that he had.

“Elias.” Ava mewled, reaching back and gripping his hair with her right hand as Stack intertwined their fingers with her left.

“I got you—ah, fuck.” Stack grunted, his thrusts growing sloppy and desperate. “Just give it to me. Give me everything. Please.” He moaned and pleaded at the same time, his grip tightening in their connected hands.

They both released their cares and stress into the night. Besides, it is theirs. No Mary, none of Stack’s extra baggage, and no Kase.

After it was all said and done, Stack rubbed Ava’s back, staring at the ceiling in deep thought as she snored softly against him, fingers instinctively tightening against his skin while she dreamt about whatever’s been brewing in her subconscious lately.

Stack looked down at Ava’s face pressed against his chest, tearing his gaze away with a deep sigh when he began to feel that all too familiar feeling gnawing in his chest.

Stack ultimately shifted and got comfortable, closing his eyes and letting sleep overpower the nagging realization that’s been beating his ass lately and he’s yet to come to terms with.

He’ll get around to it another night.

[hopefulandromantic]

I wonder what Vampire Stack is doing rn (even though he should be doing me)….