Premise: An innocent milking session turns into a freaky test of willpower between our favorite twins & Mrs. Moore.
A/N: School's finally out for the summer, so guess what that means? Your favorite fairy priestess is back to deliver that fire you all know & love. Special thanks to my boo @theegoldenchild for helping me flesh this out, as well as @nahimjustfeelingit-writes & @soufcakmistress for the idea for this filth! I love y'all real bad! 💛
Warning(s): 18+ | Modern AU | Threesome | Degradation Kink | Praise Kink | Oral Sex | Breastfeeding Kink | Masturbation | Edging | Voyeurism | Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie Moore x Elias "Stack" Moore
Word Count: 4K
Divider by: @saradika-graphics
Sunlight spills through the open nursery windows in thick golden ribbons, warm enough to turn the dust floating through the air into glitter. The gauzy curtains sway lazily with the breeze rolling in from the Quarter, carrying the scent of rain-damp pavement, magnolia blossoms, and the faint trace of incense burning downstairs on Annie’s altar. Wind chimes clink softly somewhere on the back gallery, mixing with the distant sound of a trumpet player serenading tourists three streets over. Outside, the city buzzes with its usual mix of music, heat, and morning chaos.
But in here, the world felt gentler.
Autumn babbles happily to herself from the patchwork quilt laid across the rug, tiny gold bangles jingling around her ankles every time she kicks her feet. Her fat cheeks puff around the big toe currently shoved in her mouth, suckling as though it were the finest delicacy in all of Louisiana. Her chocolate curls were wild from sleep and haloed by the morning light, making her look less like a baby and more like a cherub the ancestors had handcrafted for Annie and Smoke’s enjoyment alone. She was perfection.
Annie leans against the doorway with sleepy eyes, her satin robe resting loosely around her shoulder as she watches her daughter. Her hand lightly caresses the small protection sigil Smoke had discreetly painted in the threshold, the blackened symbol nearly invisible against the wood unless you knew what to look for.
“Those toes providing you enough nutrients,” Annie teases softly, “or would you like some goodness fresh from the tap?”
Autumn lets out an excited squeal at the sound of her mother’s voice, nearly choking on her own laughter as she rolls onto her belly. She kicks her legs wildly behind her, determined to army crawl across the blanket despite only managing a few pitiful inches.
“Mm-hmm,” Annie laughs under her breath. “There goes that impatience. You just like your daddy.”
Autumn answers with another delighted shriek at the mention of her father, reaching for her mother with clumsy little hands.
“Calm down,” Annie giggles, pushing herself off the doorway and crossing the nursery barefoot. The old wooden floor creaks beneath her steps. “I was going to come to you.”
She scoops her into her arms, breathing in that powdery baby scent mixed with shea butter and chamomile oil. The infant immediately tucks herself against her mother’s chest with a happy little sigh. Annie pulls down one side of her night gown and settles into the rocking chair near the window, letting Autumn latch while sunlight pours over them both in warm, honey-colored waves.
Downstairs, the coffee maker gives a soft ding, followed by the familiar sound of cabinet doors opening and closing somewhere beneath the nursery floor. Annie smiles to herself. Smoke was up.
A second later, music crackles low through the house from the old speaker he refused to replace. One of Sammie’s blues records. He’d never admit it out loud, but he was his little cousin’s biggest fan and owned every album he’d ever made on cassette, CD, and vinyl.
Before long, the scent of breakfast begins creeping upstairs. First coffee, dark and rich enough to wake the dead. Then butter hitting hot cast iron. Bacon shortly after that. Annie closes her eyes for a second when the smell of sautéed bell peppers and onions finally joins the mix, followed by the unmistakable scent of seasoned shrimp cooking in garlic and Cajun spices.
Smoke was making his famous shrimp and grits.
She could already picture him downstairs moving around the kitchen, half-dressed, tattoos peeking beneath a black tank top, while he stood over the stove with the same ridiculous amount of focus he put into everything. Probably dancing a little too, if the faint sound of cabinet tapping was anything to go by. A soft laugh leaves her throat.
Annie loved it when Smoke cooked. Not because he was good at it, though Lord knew he was. It was the care behind it that always got to her. The way he plated her food like it mattered. The way he remembered she liked extra cheese in her grits and her peaches sprinkled with sugar. The way he’d slide a cup of coffee into her hands before she even realized she needed one.
She always told him she could taste the love in his food. And every single time, Smoke would roll his eyes like she was being dramatic, even though the smug grin tugging at his mouth always gave him away.
“You wanna go say hi to daddy, babygirl? I’m sure he could use some of this good loving, too.” Autumn blinks up at her with sleepy, milk-drunk eyes, one hand still gripping Annie’s robe as she finishes feeding. A soft little sigh escapes her once she’s full, cheeks warm and round as she settles against Annie’s chest.
“Yeah,” Annie murmured, kissing the top of her curls. “That’s my spoiled girl.”
The old hardwood creaked beneath Annie’s bare feet as she carried Autumn downstairs, the smell of breakfast growing stronger with every step. Annie hums along to Sammie’s record as she crosses into the kitchen, and to her surprise, there are two Moore men waiting to greet her.
“There’s unc’s baby!” Stack grins the second he spots Autumn. His whole face lights up so fast Annie nearly laughs. “Come here, Moonbeam.”
Autumn squeals at the sound of his voice, immediately reaching for him with little grabby hands.
“Traitor,” Smoke snorts.
“Don’t be mad that I’m the favorite twin,” Stack shoots back, reaching out for his niece.
“You don’t even like kids,” Smoke mutters behind his coffee mug.
“Correction: I don’t like outside kids. Moonbeam is different.”
Annie laughs under her breath as Stack carefully scoops the chunky chocolate drop from her arms like she was made of glass. Autumn immediately tucks herself against his chest with a happy hum, tiny fingers grabbing onto the gold chain around his neck.
“Aht-aht,” Stack warns gently, untangling her fist before she could yank it hard enough to choke him. “That chain cost too much money for all that.”
Autumn only blinks at him before smacking her tiny palm against his cheek.
“That’s what your ass get,” Smoke says, barking out a laugh loud enough to echo through the kitchen.
“Abusive like her damn daddy,” Stack fusses as he rubs his cheek.
“You’ll be aight.”
Autumn yawns suddenly against Stack’s shoulder, tiny mouth stretching wide before her face buries into the crook of his neck. The fight drains out of her all at once.
“Annnd she’s out,” Smoke notes, pointing the spatula towards her.
“She’s been up since before sunrise,” Annie nods softly.
Stack glances down at the chocolate cherub curled against him, his expression softening so fast it almost didn’t look like him at all.
“Y’all eat. I got her.”
“You sure?” Annie asks.
“Please,” he scoffs. “I’m Uncle Stack. My baby knows she’s in good hands like Allstate.” Smoke rolls his eyes, but doesn’t protest further.
Annie smiles as Stack disappears upstairs with Autumn resting against his shoulder, one massive hand spread protectively across her tiny back while he hums softly under his breath. A minute later, the house falls quiet again.
Sensing a chance to seize the opportunity, Smoke stalks quietly behind Annie before snatching her up, expertly pinning her back to the counter. He’d been eyeing the growing damp spot beneath the thin fabric of her night gown for the last ten minutes, and his patience had finally run dry.
“E-Elijah,” Annie breathes, though there’s no real threat behind it. “What are you doing?”
He answers by sliding the strap of her gown from her shoulder slowly, exposing warm brown skin and the fullness of her breast beneath the kitchen light. A fresh bead of milk gathers there, and the sight alone nearly drives him insane.
“Lord have mercy,” he mutters softly, more to himself than her.
Smoke leans down without another word, mouth closing around her with a quiet groan that sends electricity through Annie’s body. Her fingers tighten against the cool marble instantly while his tongue soothes and teases in slow, deliberate strokes, savoring her like something sweet he’d been craving all morning.
“Eliijahhh,” she whimpers as she squirms, attempting to free herself from his grasp.
“Be still, woman,” he fusses. “I’m tryna take care of you.” His free hand carefully glides up her thigh and finds solace in the slick between her legs. Annie’s knees buckle as his fingers expertly work that sensitive bundle of nerves while he indulges in his daughter’s life force, desperate to increase his calcium intake for the day.
“Aye, family! Baby Autumn is down for the coun—” Stack stops short in the kitchen doorway, one brow lifting slowly. “Now what the fuck y’all got going on in here?”
Annie’s knuckles whiten from how tightly she grips the counter while Smoke nurses from her with a low hum of approval, his fingers working quickly under the hem of her dress.
“Well,” Stack drawls, dragging his gaze over the scene in front of him, “I see Autumn ain’t the only one that likes her milk from the tap.”
“Mind ya business,” Smoke mutters against Annie’s skin, though the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth ruins the threat completely. Stack only laughs, stepping farther into the kitchen.
“Hard to mind my business when my brother got his wife soundin’ like a damn late-night R&B playlist at breakfast. And in front of my shrimp and grits, no less.”
Annie lifts her head just enough to glance at him over Smoke’s shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded and amused.
“Then stop staring.”
“Nah,” Stack says easily, leaning against the island. “I’m entertained now.”
Smoke sucks his teeth while Annie fights a smile. The twins had always been dangerous together. Same crooked grin. Same wolfish confidence. But where Smoke burned low and steady, Stack carried chaos in his pockets like loose change.
“Careful, Stack,” Annie murmurs sweetly. “You keep looking at me like that, and your brother gon’ start growling.”
“He is already growling,” Stack shoots back instantly. “I heard him from the hallway.”
Smoke lifts his head just long enough to glare at him. “Get out my kitchen.”
“Make me.”
Stack watches from his spot against the island, arms folded tightly across his chest as he tries to ignore the growing tension low in his stomach every time Annie lets out another soft sound. He’d always thought she was the finest woman he’d ever seen, but watching her melt beneath Smoke’s touch nearly unraveled what little self-control he had left. The sight of her flushed and breathless had temptation crawling straight up his spine.
“Y’all nasty as hell,” he says after a beat, watching the way Annie’s eyes rolled back in her head as slick warmth slowly trails down her thigh.
“And yet you’re still watching instead of coming to do something about it,” Annie challenges.
“Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Antoinette,” Stack warns, stalking closer to her. “I’ll have you in a puddle of ya own nut before you can blink.”
“All bark and no bite,” Annie teases, caressing the back of Smoke’s head as he strokes himself through his pajama pants. And in that moment, something in Stack snapped. One of his biggest pet peeves, and secret turn-ons, was a woman who challenged his manhood. He quickly closes the short distance between the island and Annie, attaching himself to her left breast in one fluid motion. Annie almost screamed at the sensation of having both twins on her at once while Smoke’s fingers still danced in her slick.
“Oooh shiiiit,” she purrs, rolling her hips against Smoke’s rough fingers.
Though she knew it was wrong, she’d often fantasize about how it would feel to have both twins worshipping her body, and now, here she was experiencing it in 8K. Though they were identical, each brother had his own way of pleasuring her that made her feel like a goddess being worshipped. Smoke took his time, slow and steady, like he enjoyed drawing every reaction out of her piece by piece. Everything he did felt deliberate. Controlled. The gentle pull of his mouth, the lazy flick of his tongue, the slow drag of his fingers between her thighs.
Stack was the complete opposite. He kissed her like he was starving and touched her like restraint had never once crossed his mind. Every impatient movement, every rough little sound he made against her skin sent another rush of heat straight through Annie’s body until she could barely think past the sensation of both brothers surrounding her at once.
“W-Wait,” she says as she feels that familiar bloom in the pit of her stomach. “I don’t want to cum yet, I want to play a game.”
Smoke ignores her initially, glaring daggers at Stack when he notices Annie’s moans growing louder because of him. The two carry on their silent bickering until Annie grips them both by their curls, lifting their heads to meet her gaze. The pair groan in frustration at the loss of contact.
“I said I want to play a game,” Annie repeats, watching them both with lidded eyes.
“A game?” Smoke echoes.
“What kind of game?” Stack presses.
“A game of willpower, between the two of you,” she coos, wrapping a hand around each of their third legs. Their dicks felt heavy in her hands as she mentally noted the similarities between them. They were both 9 ½ inches, with Smoke curving to the right and Stack curving to the left. Her pussy throbs as she imagines how it would feel to have one twin fucking her throat while the other fucks her into oblivion.
“I’m going to stroke you both. Whoever cums first has to watch the other one fuck me.” They both stare at her blankly, blinded by the way her soft hands work them both with steady precision. Smoke weakens almost instantly, and it takes a moment for him to register the proposition.
“You must be out yo mind,” he growls through clenched teeth, eyes darting between his wife and his twin. But Annie ignores him and keeps stroking, her mouth secretly watering as both of their tips begin leaking precum. Stack remains quiet, except for the few small moans that escape his lips as Annie’s thumb swipes over the sensitive head of his dick. When he finally regains his voice, it’s to taunt his grumpy dopplegänger.
“What’s the matter, ‘Lijah? Scared you gone have to watch me bend your wife over?” he teases.
“It’ll be a cold day in hell,” Smoke barks back, already positioning himself back at Annie’s dripping right nipple. Her right hand strokes him with calculated motions, drawing curses from his lips like prayers.
“Gahdamn woman,” he moans, thrusting into her palm like he would her pussy.
“It’s just a friendly competition, ‘Lijah,” she mewls. “You can share me this one time.”
Smoke ignores his wife’s statement, opting to continue pumping his fingers in her slopping wet hole. He wasn’t in the mood to share his lover with his menace of a brother. All he wanted was to indulge in a little breastmilk and enjoy an early morning fuck. Part of him wanted to appease Annie and see where this little competition would lead, but the other side of him, the possessive, unstable side, wasn’t fully convinced.
One second, his fingers were deep in her core, thrusting in and out. The next, he was curling them to hit that sweet spot that made her toes curl.
“I don’t like sharin’,” he grumbles.
“L-Lijah…”
He uses her moans as fuel to continue working his tongue and fingers until her orgasm rips through her before she has time to process it.
“Fuuuuuck!” she screams, before reeling her voice back in, afraid of waking Autumn.
Stack doesn’t falter. He uses his tongue to guide Annie through her orgasm and work her up for another one. Annie rewards him with a firm squeeze of his shaft.
“Damn Elias,” she purrs softly. “You might be the little brother, but that dick is full-grown.” Stack groans deeply against her chest as she uses his precum to stroke him faster. As much as he loves bringing a woman to her knees and turning her into his personal free-use doll, Stack’s ultimate kink is praise. He loves being told how good a job he’s doing or how well he’s pleasing his woman.
Annie’s praises, coupled with the way her soft hands alternated between slow, deliberate strokes of his dick to fast, precise ones, had turned Stack into a leaking, moaning mess around her nipple. Shivers shoot down his spine as he tries his best to match the rhythm of her strokes with the flicks of his tongue. His orgasm was building fast.
“You’re being such a good boy for me, Elias,” Annie purrs. “I might let you fuck me just for that.”
Stack shoots Smoke a devilish grin as he suckles a mouthful of breastmilk. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back for Smoke. In one swift motion, he lifts Annie onto the island, spreading her legs as wide as they can go.
“Say that shit again and I’ll edge you every night for the next week,” Smoke warns, positioning his face right in front of her dripping center. Annie bites her lip as she looks down to meet her husband’s gaze, shivering slightly at the menacing look in his eyes.
“You still wanna try that Eiffel Tower shit you showed me the other night?” he asks, lazily licking up her thigh before placing a gentle kiss on her pussy. The sensation pulls a desperate whimper from Annie’s lips.
“Eiffel Tower? Oh you nasty nasty, Mrs. Moore,” Stack smirks, pressing a trail of kisses from her nipple, down her stomach, and right on top of her mound. “I like it.”
Annie squirms in anticipation as the twins take their places, Stack at her head and Smoke between her legs. Her mouth waters as she comes face to shaft with Stack’s dick, the weight of him resting warm against her lips while that cocky grin slowly spreads across his face.
“Say ahh, pretty girl,” he purrs, amused at how quickly she complies.
He carefully eases himself into her awaiting mouth, knees buckling as she expertly wraps her tongue around his thick tip. A soft curse slips from his throat almost instantly, one hand bracing against the counter while the other disappears into her curls.
“Fuck,” he breathes, head tipping back for a second before his eyes lock onto her again. “There she go.”
Annie looks up at him through heavy lashes, taking her time like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him. Every slow movement of her mouth pulls another strained sound from deep in his chest, his confidence cracking little by little beneath the heat of her attention.
“Shiiiit woman,” he growls through clenched teeth as he watches his dick disappear down Annie’s throat before reappearing again, completely covered in thick ropes of saliva. He rolls her nipples between his fingers, as she sucks him like her favorite popsicle on a warm, summer day.
Smoke watches the exchange from his place between her legs with dark, possessive eyes, his hand sliding along her waist while Stack struggles to keep himself together above her. Without warning, he plunges deep into her sex, pulling a strangled moan from her throat. Annie squirts unintentionally on impact, but Smoke keeps on fucking. Annie gasps softly as Smoke buries himself against her neck with a low sound that barely sounds human anymore. The friendly competition between brothers had become possessive.
Smoke had always worshipped Annie openly. Anybody with eyes could see that. The soft kisses against her forehead when she was tired. The way he fixed her coffee exactly how she liked it every morning without asking. The way his hand automatically found the small of her back whenever they walked through a crowded room.
But moments like this pulled something rougher out of him. Something territorial. He was more than willing to give Annie anything under the sun. Jewelry, time, devotion. Hell, blood if she wanted it.
But her pussy? That was his and his alone. And judging by the dark look in his eyes, Smoke intended to remind everybody in the room of that fact.
“Now what was all that shit you was talking about Elias fucking my pussy?” he mutters against her skin, voice rough enough to send heat rushing through her chest. Annie could barely form words, let alone answer him. Her thoughts had melted into scattered fragments somewhere between Stack teasing her nipples and the overwhelming sensation of Smoke filling her to the hilt.
Stack fists her curls, driving himself deeper down her throat as the coils in the pit of his stomach began to unravel.
“Anniiiieeeeee,” he moans as she wraps her hand around the base of his dick, using both her mouth and hand simultaneously to encourage his release. She pulls him out of her mouth just as cum flies out in thick ropes, covering her supple breasts in his unborns.
“Shiit!” he rasps, planting both hands beside her head as he struggles to catch his breath. Annie takes in the sight with pride before shifting her attention to her husband. She readjusts, locking her thick thighs around Smoke’s waist, winding her hips to match his thrusts.
“Cum in your pussy, Papa,” she purrs, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. “It’s yours. Claim it.”
And with that, the little resolve Smoke had left diminished. The feeling hit him hard and sudden, ripping through his body with enough force to leave his knees weak beneath him. A broken sound tore from his chest as he buried his face against Annie’s neck, teeth sinking lightly into her skin while he tried to ride out the overwhelming rush of it. She shivers at the feeling of his mouth against her neck, immediately threading her fingers into his curls while trying to steady her own breathing. Smoke was gone now. This was Elijah again.
“Damn,” Stack laughs softly under his breath, shaking his head while Smoke stays buried against Annie’s throat. “Boy sound like he just saw God.”
Smoke blindly flips him off, keeping his position on Annie’s chest. She laughs, breathless and warm despite the exhaustion settling into her limbs.
“Y’all are ridiculous.”
“And yet, you love us,” Stack retorts, tugging his sweats back on. He pulls his shirt over his head just as a sharp cry crackles through the baby monitor sitting forgotten near the fruit bowl.
All three of them freeze before another cry follows, loud and offended.
“Oh, she up,” Annie sighs instantly, already trying to sit up, despite Smoke’s large body still pinning her to the island. He groans dramatically.
“Swear that child got the worst timing I ever seen,” he fusses as he reluctantly sits up.
“She your child,” Stack reminds him, making his way towards the stairs as Autumn’s angry little cries echo through the speaker. “Y’all stay cuddled up. Uncle Stack can take it from here.”
“Still tryna solidify your spot as her favorite twin,” Annie accuses.
“Because I am her favorite,” he yells back confidently before disappearing up the stairs. A few seconds later, the crying softens upstairs, replaced by the faint sound of Stack’s voice talking nonsense to calm her down. Smoke watches Annie with tired eyes and a crooked smile.
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