Annie is cruel. Truly cruel. When you act out or brat at her, she doesn’t guide you, doesn’t overstimulate you to teach you a lesson. No, she outright stops touching you altogether. No matter how much you beg and whine, trying to get her attention, she doesn’t let up. Only once she decides it’s time, once she sees you broken down and quiet and obedient, only then does she touch you again.
big sigh so I really wanted to write a fic where there's constantly some bullshit going on in the office, like a string of bad luck especially tied to reader and annie, who don't get along.
mikasa, also a coworker is a bit of a stalker and a voyeur to their arguments figures out that they need to reverse a curse, and in order to do that they need to fuck in the graveyard with her officiating the sexual intercourse, by making sure that both of them have orgasmed and mixing their cum.
this would obviously be a one shot (bold words from me) but I came up with this when I was super mikannie pilled and i still am but the downside of being born in the make everything about hange zoë factory is that you gotta make EVERYTHING about hange zoë and I have no idea how to change this fic to suit them 😭
I have too much going on to deal with this so i still have time to make this work ig
part five • modern!au annie x sugar!baby reader x smoke
summary: a night out with your friend ends with you beginning an unexpected relationship with two people—a husband and wife. trips and money spent pulls the three of your closer, and the bond forged between you becomes undeniable.
cw: smut, daddy!smoke, mutual masturbation, mention of masturbation
a/n: this update took some years off my life—- my spicy brain was struggling so hard but i got into a rhythm!! i hope you all enjoyyyy
they call me sugar masterlist • general masterlist
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When the man crossed the room, his feet landed heavily, settling like smoke and filling your lungs with anticipation. His smile was wicked. It forced your chest to heave in the same way Annie's fingers made you beg for release. The woman hadn't stopped her assault once. Her nimble fingers were still fucking you lovingly, pulling delicate cries from your throat. The heel of her hand was still brushing against your clit in the best way. The pleasure was too much of a good thing, but when your eyes began to shut from the overstimulation of it all, Smoke grunted in disapproval and Annie quickly scolded you.
"Keep your eyes on 'Lijah," she demanded, nails dragging along your walls. Her cadence was slow and drenched in her arousal. Her tone was blunt, definitive. The entire time you'd known her, the woman never left room for you to question her orders, and you never once thought to disobey.
It was their rule—though all you wanted was for them to find favor in you.
Your eyes stayed open, stayed on the man who was moving toward the edge of the bed. He pulled his tie off first. Stepped out of his shoes. Unbuckled his belt. The combination of a half-naked Annie fucking you this perfectly and a tired-from-work Elijah being renewed by the sight of you two was making the climax rise in your lower body once again. You could feel yourself on the verge of caving under the weight of their quiet charm and heavy dominance.
You held your breath as Smoke leaned over the bed. Watching as he planted a kiss along Annie's spine, you moaned at the display, sparking a groan from the man's parted lips. His eyes hadn't shifted from yours once, and when he saw the orgasm beginning to flash behind your eyes, he lowered his voice and commanded your next action with ease.
"Cum, Sugar," he demanded, and your hunger made itself known.
~~~~~
After your dinner with the couple, you worked to figure out how you felt about the proposition they had extended. You'd have all the perks of a sugar baby—money, lavish vacations, shopping sprees for no real reason—but you'd also have access to them in a way that felt more real. They wouldn’t just be the people who put money in your pocket and fucked you in every way you needed. They wanted more from you, and they wanted to give you more than just those simple things. They desired fun and excitement and to give you the world. Making you happy for the sheer fact that they enjoyed to be in your company was at the top of their list. And while it took time for you to wrap your head around things, you couldn't deny that the arrangement sounded heavenly.
You needed money. Needed happiness. Needed your load lifted more than you wanted to admit. So with your mind made up, you went back to the couple—ready to discuss everything in depth.
The rules for the trial run had been set by having an honest conversation—led by you and with your needs and comfortability in the front of everyone's minds. Smoke and Annie meant what they said when they told you that this whole situation was about enjoying yourselves while they took care of you in whatever way you needed. So after taking a few days to think on it, the couple allowed you to take the lead and lay out the rules as follows:
The trial run would last one month—31 days to test out the kinks and determine if you were willing to jump in head first. At the first sign of uncertainty, you all agreed that you could back out with no hard feelings.
No matter what was going on, weekly check-ins were mandatory for ensuring everyone felt safe, comfortable, and heard. You didn't care if one of them was working or on a business trip, the three of you had to sit down weekly and communicate what was working and what wasn't working. After a month, you'd reevaluate whether the check-ins could happen less frequently.
Low stakes dates and hangouts were required. Even though the arrangement was unconventional, none of you wanted this to feel like a transaction or business venture. It had to feel natural: planned outings, spontaneous hangouts, late night drives to nowhere in particular.
You wanted to spend time with them in a trio and one-on-one. In order to make sure you felt this was possible, you needed to learn who they were as individuals just as much as who they were as partners.
You never wanted to be put in a position where it felt like they were hanging money over your head. Yes—they were giving you money in exchange for your time, but you never wanted them to overpower you, never wanted to feel like you had to say yes to anything you didn't agree with just because you needed money.
And lastly, until you were ready, no kissing, no exchange of pictures, no heavy petting, no sex.
You had spoken the rules as best as you could, fighting through your fear and uncertainty in order to get each point across clearly. But what shouldn't have come as a surprise was that Annie and Smoke took everything you said to heart. As you talked through the rules, Smoke notated every word on a sheet of paper while Annie helped you make sense of your needs. You'd felt naive, confused, and uncertain—but never once did they make you feel bad about your lack of knowing. Continuing to shower you with affirming words, they vowed to always honor your wishes.
Moving to ensure you understood their seriousness, they focused in on each rule.
Rule one seemed the most agreeable. One month was plenty of time to determine if this was going to be a lasting arrangement.
Rule two went down just as easily, and to show their commitment, the couple swiftly created a schedule for the weekly check-ins. In the coming weeks, Annie had a conference to attend and Smoke had classes and media for his company lined up back to back. And that was before they even included your packed work schedule in the mix. You weren't in the space to slow down with work. You had obligations—to your bosses, to your family, to yourself. You hadn't had a real break in God knows how long, but all was good because the pair took the hard work off of your shoulders to ensure they could be present and available for you.
Rules three and four made them the most excited. They couldn't wait to spend more time with you, and while Annie couldn't help but start spitting out date ideas, Smoke kept an air of nonchalance. If you had never met the man, you would have guessed he was completely uninterested in you. He sat still in his seat, hand gripping his pen, eyes low and on his paper. But as you explained your needs to spend time with them, his mouth lifted at the corner and his shoulders rolled back to steady himself.
Rule five was the most non-negotiable. You didn't like being backed into a corner, and you weren't going to allow them to do so. There were two of them and one of you, but you never wanted to be reminded of that fact. You also weren't willing to discuss the rule in any more depth than what you had. You laid the words out there, watched as they nodded with understanding, and you moved on without any other mention.
Rule six was the one they honed in on the most, brought to intrigue not by the rule itself but by your delivery. You had uttered the words shyly, head lowered and voice small. It was completely different from how definitively you had spoken the earlier rules, and while they weren’t going to torture you into being more forthcoming, they weren't going to let you off that easily either.
"What you mean by no pictures," Smoke wondered aloud, pausing the movement of his pen to look up at you through lidded-eyes.
Your head snapped toward Annie for assistance because you couldn't for the life of you put it into any other words. But as you looked at her, the woman held a straight face, attention narrowed in a sign that she wanted the clarification just as badly as he did. Clearing your throat, you fought your mind for the right thing to say.
"Um—like, I guess—I don't know how to say it," you mumbled, words all over the place and eyes on your hands. It seemed simple and difficult all at once, but pictures could mean so many different things. Noticing the fear coursing through you, Annie leaned forward and spoke softly.
"You can tell us how you feel, sweetheart," the woman breathed, holding your eye contact.
"We ain't the judgin' type," Smoke added, demeanor solid.
And as much as you didn't want to admit it, their calm and ease helped you tremendously.
"It's just—I don't want to like—I’m just not ready to send y'all any spicy pictures yet," you whispered, hoping that got the message across, but when you looked up again, their faces were still straight. What you didn't know is that they completely understood what you were saying. They simply needed time to process, time to process your nervous demeanor, time to process their response to it. But you still felt the need to clarify, ranting uncontrollably. "It's not that I think y'all would be weird about it or anything," you rambled, laughing to soften the hurried delivery. "Like—I could definitely see myself being willing to do that in the future. I really, really could. 'Cause—wow. It’s just nerve-wreaking. And I don't even know if I could handle receiving anything like that from y'all—like—could you imagine—you two sending me pics—"
"Sugar," Annie cooed, a laugh pulling from her throat. She chuckled in amusement, not making fun of you but showing her adoration in one of the ways she knew how. As always, her words brought you tremendous comfort. "We're not expectin' anything like that from you right off the bat. We want to learn you. To support you. To give you things and make you happy." She allowed the declaration to settle, swallowing her predisposition for solving every situation when sometimes it was best to just let it breath. She was a fixer, but she was still learning you and figuring out what you needed best. Cocking her head to the side, she continued. "We want to be here for you in whatever way you allow. And yes, we'd love this to develop into that form of intimacy—"
"But we want this to be natural," Smoke finished her sentence. He was back to writing, back to listening intently to every word and speaking up when he had something small to add. He paid attention to the moments between you and his wife, feeling deeply renewed by the both of you.
"Exactly," the woman smiled over at him. "This is about all of us learnin' each other, so we understand not wantin' to jump into sex or intimacy just yet. This isn't meant to be a traditional arrangement at all. You are the most important person here—always."
So with everything determined and agreed upon, the trial run commenced as smoothly as possible. Calls and texts here and there, small check-ins in the morning and at night and Apple Pay notifications blowing up your phone. It was easy and anxiety-inducing and fun all at the same time, but you didn't allow yourself to get caught up in the little things. You spoke your mind and let them know how you were feeling, and they did the same things right back.
One thing you expressed early on was your apprehension with the individual dates. It had been a rule that you wanted to adhere to, but your fear was coming from one main direction: You'd only known the couple as a package deal. You didn't know how you'd cope with being around Annie's flirtation without Smoke as a buffer, and you didn't know how to exist in Smoke's bluntness without Annie to soften the way it made your body react. And understanding where you were coming from, the husband and wife helped to ease you into it.
They took things slow and expected nothing from you. They showed up as their authentic selves and were ready for the chips to fall where they may.
~~~~~
When you arrived to the Moore house, your head stayed on a swivel.
You were astonished.
As you pulled your car to a slow stop, a two story home greeted you. They had a long driveway, and the house was barely visible from the street. There was nothing but quiet, open space around you, and while you were nervous, you couldn't deny the peace and solitude that sank into your body. Their wealth and standards were on full display, but given that the lady of the house worked successfully in real estate development, you expected nothing less.
Today was the first real date of the trial run, and they had planned for you all to have brunch at their home. Up until now, you'd only met in public spaces—somewhere neutral, somewhere you wouldn't absolutely freak out—but this was completely different. You'd be seeing a different side of them, and you didn't know how you'd feel about getting to experience them so intimately.
You gripped the steering wheel for protection from your emotions. Your thoughts were all over the place, and no matter how hard you tried to push the negative ones away, they just kept coming right back. You needed this money, but something in the back of your mind was trying to convince you that at the end of this date, Smoke and Annie would resend the entire thing.
Besides that fear, you simply liked them as people outside of what they could give you. You liked their kindness, their love for each other, their dedication to their careers, how they had their small quirks that they allowed you to see bit by bit. Your heart raced fast, pounding in your chest. Your ears grew hot, but heaving a breath, you opened the car door.
With one step out, you reminded yourself that you were capable of whatever you set your mind to. You'd persevered more challenging things, and you always came out the other side on top—with or without money to help you through it. With another step out, you reminded yourself that you weren't in this alone. They wanted you, too. They had sought you out, and they were working to center you in every step of this arrangement. This was a trial run, and it was one for a reason. Nothing had to be perfect or well put together. The three of you were just getting a feel for each other.
But no matter how well you pumped yourself up or reminded yourself of the facts, your need for the money they were willing to offer you weighed heavily on your heart.
As you walked toward the front door, your eyes ran along the home's exterior. You were astonished yet overwhelmed, but you continued to will yourself through your complex emotions. "This is casual," Annie had said over the phone a few days back, and you clung to the sound of her voice as she uttered each word. The day she'd called to confirm the date, you knew she could sense your nerves. Even through the phone, she felt your fear—you just hoped and prayed she couldn't tell how badly you needed this to go well.
"Casual," you whispered under your breath as you tugged the hem of your shirt down. You were wearing a pair of casual jeans with a casual blouse and a pair of casual shoes. You wanted desperately to appear laidback. At this point, you've been around them enough times to know that you were at least able to carry on a conversation and not feel like you'd make a complete fool of yourself. You also never felt that any of your time had been wasted by them—but that wasn't enough to quell the anxiety on its own.
Knocking on the large front door, you took one step back and waited.
You twiddled your thumbs. You eyed the doorknob. You looked back toward your car for an escape you wouldn't even use.
You enjoyed spending time with them—surprisingly so. They'd pushed themselves past that part of you that longed for a night alone spent laid up on your couch doing nothing at your own discretion. As you waited, you thought over what you'd be doing if you weren't here, but nothing truly worthwhile came to mind.
When she opened the door, your breath stopped, eyes going wide. The woman was wearing a royal blue silk muumuu that fell deliciously over her curves. It swept at the tops of her feet, moving as she did to let you into the home. You walked in, eyes on her body and nothing else—the curve of her ass and the fullness of her chest—and when the door closed, it thudded in your body. Annie looked delicious even in the mountains of fabric, and the woman could instantly tell that she'd made the right choice in attire. "Like something you see," she chuckled in question, walking forward into your body. Her chest pressed lightly against yours, and a smile rose delicately on her lips.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
One thing you quickly learned to love about Annie was how easily she could command a space. Her boldness would make your body light up, and her tendency of making you nervous through her flirtation would work to make you pray for more of it. But right now, it was strictly helping to counteract the original stress that had filled your body. You felt it beginning to drift away, replacing itself with the same playfulness as Annie's. Grin slowly taking over your face, you matched the woman's energy perfectly.
"You look sexy," you affirmed, pressing your chest against hers and equaling out the pressure. You stared into her eyes while biting your bottom lip, mind immediately drifting back to the last time you touched yourself with her in mind. You'd been in bed—nights ago—and you just couldn't get the sound of her voice out of your head. Fingers gliding through the mess between your legs, Smoke joined her in your mind: looming, watching, waiting for his moment of attack. And when he did, he was fucking your body into the mattress while the woman lulled sweet praises in your left ear. They were irresistible and too sexy for their own good, and all of those greedy, filthy emotions were flooding back when you knew they shouldn't be.
Annie was in front of you—body warm—and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.
"Careful now," Annie giggled in shock, unaware that she'd be seeing a bolder side of you today. She was intrigued and caught off guard in the best way, but she knew better than to entertain what she couldn’t have—yet. Reluctantly, she moved away from your body, face hot and arousal blooming just as strongly as yours, and you watched as she walked toward an arched doorway right off the foyer. Her steps were labored yet flowing, giggle growing stronger by the second. "Rule number six, Sugar," she laughed, throwing you a wink before disappearing, and you immediately had to remind yourself once again what you all had agreed on.
No sex.
It felt silly now because all you wanted to do was let them use you in whatever way they felt necessary. They could have your ass laid across the kitchen island or on your back while Annie rode your face and Smoke fucked you from below for all you cared—but you couldn't. No kissing, no exchange of pictures, no heavy petting, and—most annoyingly—no sex.
You let out an amused huff, body humming in a need you'd have to take care of yourself at a later time. Your eyes drifted in the direction the woman disappeared off to, and amusement sparked, you followed her.
You bounded down the hallway with a wide smile, giggling softly to yourself as the thought of Annie lingered hot in your mind. Your anxiety bleeding away, becoming replaced with a joyful playfulness you hadn't entirely expected to feel. Stepping closer to where she disappeared, the sound of closing cabinets and sizzling skillets filled your ears. The closer you approached the arched entrance, your nose filled with the lovely scent of home-cooked food. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, your soul settled.
The person you were immediately met with, however, wasn't the woman.
Across from the doorway, stood at the stove, was her lover—Smoke Moore. He was dressed similarly as casual as you. With a pair of dark-wash jeans sitting on his waist and a simple tee surrounding his thick arms, you finally got your chance to see more of the body he had worked out so diligently for. No suit jacket concealed his thickness. No tie or high collar hid his heft.
Unapologetically, you allowed your eyes to fall over his body, taking in every visible inch of him as he watched over a skillet. His back was wide and his shoulders were broad. His biceps were soft and strong at the same time, and you couldn’t get over the way he looked in those jeans.
The date had just begun, and already, you had ogled both of them, completely enraptured by the perceived effortlessness of two people who ruled their own worlds.
“What you making,” you questioned aloud, pulling yourself from your reverie before either of them had a chance to notice your wayward eyes—but of course, they already had. Annie was at the island, cutting up a variety of fruit, muumuu still swaying every time she shifted her body, and at the uttering of your question, her smile settled deeper.
Meeting your gaze for a brief second before turning back to the stove, Smoke’s heavy voice rang out smoothly.
“Just some sausage,” he answered. He tilted his head in the direction of his wife before speaking again. “Annie got a quiche in the oven, but everything’ll be done in a few minutes.”
Without even noticing it, you were slowly nodding along. Something about the man’s cadence always pulled you in. That slow, Southern drawl that sounded so sweet and blessed your ears every time he allowed you to hear it. You noticed their conjoined effort: Annie cutting fruit and the quiche her husband had mentioned; Smoke flipping sausage with a towel thrown over his shoulder for when he needed to wipe his hands. It felt safe—domestic in a way that made your heart bloom.
With a smile lifting your face, the earlier anxiety fully melted away, leaving your system and allowing you to enjoy your time with the couple.
~~~~~
“How do you think today went,” Annie asked her husband as she slathered her body in shea butter. She buffed it into her arms, allowing it to reach every curve of her body. Smoke was in the shower as she stood at the bathroom mirror, and every few seconds, her eyes would drift over to the soft outline of his body. The fogged glass let her see just enough of him for her to imagine the rest. When her attention would return back to the task at hand though, Elijah’s eyes would take over watching her smooth the butter into her skin.
As he took time washing the day off, he thought over your day together. How you slowly opened yourself up. How you laughed, and talked outwardly, and thanked them for the meal they’d prepared. How you danced in your seat as you ate. How you’d taken up for his wife when he said brunch was no real thing, citing your own reasons that were sure to be brought up in a later conversation.
Everything had flowed so well, and too often, he felt his dimples plastering themselves onto his cheeks. He’d also been more open himself; He was much less quiet in your presence now, less gruff in his delivery, and he could tell that you appreciated it.
However, there was one thing he couldn’t wrap his mind around, and it was that phone call.
Everything had been going so smoothly up until then. The three of you had transitioned from the dining table to the living room, posted up in different corners of couches and chairs. You talked about everything and nothing, getting to know each other in a way that felt natural—like friends, like lovers. Then your phone rang.
He’d been playing close attention to the way anxiety struck your body. Your breathing had halted, becoming irregular before pumping through you quickly. Your seated position was no longer comfortable as you kept adjusting yourself little by little. You had pulled at your shirt hem, smoothed out you hair, fixed the crossing of your legs.
When your phone was put away with the call left unanswered, he watched as you attempted to return back to normal—like nothing had happened. And when you were unsuccessful yet again, he immediately met Annie’s eyes across the room. They sensed the shift together, and while they wanted to ask if you were okay, they weren’t sure if it was there place.
The man cleared his throat despite it, and as he opened his mouth, your phone rang again.
This time, you reacted differently: huffing, sighing, getting up from your seat and excusing yourself in order to finally take the call.
Hushed words on the other side of the wall—he and his wife trying to decipher what to do through eye contact alone. It was too much. Odd. Strange. But they waited on you to return, bits and pieces of your conversation making its way through the room.
“I can’t just…not because you want something,” they heard you whisper-yell down the phone. Your voice was tight and sharp, but they could hear the hurt you were trying to conceal behind it. “That’s ridiculous! I just gave you money,” you scoffed. “That’s his problem…no…I didn’t say that! You can’t put words in my mouth, mama.”
Elijah moved on to washing his lower body as he continued to think about the way you returned with a hot face and a crumbling resolve. You’d tried to calm yourself, but it appeared impossible. But still, they didn’t ask any questions that would get too deep at the heart of things.
“I have to go,” you spoke softly, looking between the couple with tired eyes.
“Oh,” Annie sat up surprised, frown pulling at her bottom lip no matter how hard she tried to push it away. She wanted to fix it, but she couldn't, didn't even know where to begin. Her attention was fully on you, and her worry and freshly-birthed anxiety made her husband that much more alert. Tilting his head, he watched you reach for your bag.
“Family stuff,” you scoffed, clearly annoyed all over again. There was no mistaking the fact that the caller had unearthed something wicked, but even in your difficult emotions, your eyes turned softer when you looked up at the couple. Bag over your shoulder, you eyed them both with a calm that had almost disappeared for good just seconds ago. Exhausted smile on your lips, you spoke softly. “I had a wonderful time today, and I’m sorry that I can’t stay longer, but I think I’d like to do the one-on-one thing next.”
Smoke nodded, face serious as the excitement flooded through him. The date had started off with you not being ready to exist around one of them at a time, but things had gone well enough that you were more sure of yourself—more sure of them. He stood on solid feet then, rising from his seat in the chair and crossing the room.
“I’ll plan a date for the two of us next,” he breathed assuredly in your direction. The words had come out smooth, like he’d practiced them just enough times for it to sound like natural confidence, but he was just as nervous as you had been when you pulled up in their driveway. He knew how people normally perceived him. He was a brawny man—rugged and quiet and intimidating—but he only wanted you to see the best in him. Annie had been the only woman to own his heart and see past his tough exterior, but he wasn't necessarily concerned with keeping up that rough persona around you much longer.
After he let the short words out into the air, all you could do was nod in response, eyes on your feet and cheeks flushing bashfully. You assumed your first one-on-one would be with Annie, but it definitely didn't bother you to see the man take initiative.
Off to the side, on another couch, the woman sat with a knowing, proud smile. She loved knowing that Smoke wanted you, that their attraction toward you was equal, and she already couldn't wait for him to return from the date with all the juicy details. Eyes still held up in her grin, she watched her husband reach into a cabinet door tucked off into a corner of the living room.
Pulling out a fat stack of hundred dollar bills wrapped tight with pink ribbon, Smoke thumbed through the money. He turned. Faced you. Extended his hand. Waited for you to take the offering.
And you did so. Head held high and shoulders rolled back.
You had to get used to this part of the arrangement, and the quicker that happened, the easier everything would be.
In your hands, you easily held over five thousand dollars.
The one thing the three of you hadn't discussed was payment. Annie and Smoke never brought it up because of the idea that this wasn’t about business. If you wanted more, then they’d give you more, and if you wanted to talk about it, then they’d allow it. But for you, something in your brain had kept that aspect distant as if subconsciously you knew the amount of money would never be an issue—at least in knowing they wouldn't dare lowball you. The couple was serious about you, and that seriousness came with thousands of dollars sitting in your palm.
When the money was secured, Smoke watched your shoulders ease just slightly. He was best at picking up subtle movements, details many people failed to notice, but he could see how the money brought you calm. Slowly, all of your hearts grew to deal with the fact that your day was now cut short.
Annie stood, smoothing her muumuu as she reached for your empty hand. They walked you to the door, the woman leading you while the man trailed just slightly behind. He watched you squeeze his wife’s hand, eyes on her face with a soft expression—then you looked back, eyes just as full of care.
“I think it went as well as it could,” the man finally spoke after giving his thoughts time to breath. He was done washing his body, but the water felt too good, beginning to run cold and cool his tawny skin. He inhaled deeply, exhaling just the same. “She likes us,” he responded thoughtfully. “She likes us both more than I thought she would, so I feel good about it.”
“I agree,” the woman spun around. She put her ass on the edge of the sink, watching her husband unapologetically now. The fogginess of the glass concealed all the good parts, but it didn’t stop her from lusting as the water turned from hot to cold. “That phone call though,” she brought up, voice denser now, the need to solve the issue before she knew what it was rising high. “Family seems like a touchy subject.”
“Always is,” the man huffed. He looked up then, eyes peering out of the glass and landing on his wife. He wiped where it had fogged over, and he couldn’t help but pay attention to the negligée she’d thrown on. His eyes ran over the lace trimming, and he swallowed thickly. “We’re gonna be there for her just like we said. Money. Time. Care.” It sounded more clear in his head, but as he spoke, the words came out in a rush, cloudy with his growing need for his wife.
Her eyes were sharp, attention locked on everything Smoke Moore. Annie had been astonished by her husband all day. He was open and lively and relaxed in a way that normally took him a while to let other people see. That was the man only she got, but never once did she feel a way about him sharing that side with you. Jealousy wasn’t a thing she knew, and this situation only thrived because the pair just wanted what was best for everyone involved.
Throughout the date, Elijah had been just as astonished by Annie. There was something about that muumuu. Something about her full smile when she looked at you. Something about how her body leaned in your direction with ease. He knew his wife was just as distrusting of others as he was. She didn’t let just anyone in, and it took her time to feel comfortable with another person’s soul—that’s why they worked so well together.
It was their individual care for you that turned the other on.
The energy in the bathroom shifted quickly. You lingered hot in their minds in the way they thought about each other. They couldn’t stop thinking about you in their home—sitting on their couch where they’d fucked to the memory of you in that lounge. They couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like when they finally got a chance to have you. But there were rules, rules they’d have to abide by.
Annie’s mind was still caught up on you calling her sexy and matching her energy. It had thrown her off in the best way, and since that moment, her entire body had been lit aflame. The need to be taken care of outweighed any other.
“How long are you gonna be, baby,” the woman wondered, cadence dripping in arousal. She was needy now, throbbing for the man—and you.
“Not long,” her husband responded shortly. He was past finished with his shower, but he wanted to see just how long she could wait, how needy she could get with some direction. Clearing this throat, he gave that direction. “Go on and get started for me, mama.” The command was heavy and was sent her way with a sharp nod toward the bedroom.
Stifling a pout, Annie turned toward the door, and with one look over her shoulder, she crossed the threshold. She knew better than to disobey because Disrespected Smoke was an entirely different man. That side of him was different from his normal roughness in the bedroom. When she didn’t behave or would allow the brat to climb out, her husband made her suffer—and torture was his favorite game to play.
Laying back on the bed, the woman began to drag her fingers over her body. She sighed in comfort at the feeling, relief flooding her senses. Eyes closed, she saw an imagine of you and Elijah—talking, flirting, looking at each other like you could see through clothes. It made her pulse rise and her chest flush with heat, so unable to not follow the feeling, she dipped her fingers beneath the hem of her negligée.
She wasn’t wearing any underwear.
When she got dressed, Elijah showering in the background, she plotted in her head what the rest of the night would bring—and she was ready to collect on that wish.
Annie sought out her clit first because she’d felt teased all damn day. She needed pleasure more that her body knew how to comprehend. She needed hands on her—hers, yours, Smoke’s. She needed to feel desired, even if she was desiring herself. Rubbing her clit in tight circles, her body began to tremble, on the verge of tears before anything had even truly begun. One hand grabbed at the sheets in search of stability as her hips rose to meet her fingers. Desperate was the only world to describe the scene, and as Smoke entered the room, a crooked smile graced his lips.
A towel was wrapped lazily around his waist, barely covering his pelvis. His gait was wide, steps slow yet heavy, aura dark. He took his time admiring her. With her legs wide open and feet planted into the edge of the bed, he got the perfect view of her fingers edging her folds and giving her clit just the right amount of heavy pressure.
The shaking of her legs made him bite his bottom lip, and as good as she looked splayed open for him, he still wasn't ready to give in just yet.
“Who you thinkin’ ‘bout,” the man questioned, and in an instant, his wife was whining. She writhed against the bed sheets, choking around her words. Her struggle made him stop his steps, draw out his torment, drop his towel and grab ahold of his length. He twitched in his rough palm, Annie spurring on his pursuit, you wading in and out of his thoughts like a dream he never wanted to forget—a dream he was ready to grab and hold to.
As he stroked, the view of his wife caused his jaw to tighten.
“I asked you a question, woman,” he growled with angered-emotion, muscles rippling as he took control of both of their pleasure.
Annie’s jaw was trembling and her eyes were still shut—but she could hear it: the dragging of his hand down to the tip of his dick and back; the pulling of pleasure from the back of his throat. Her back lifted off the bed.
“You, daddy,” she cried, eyes tightening, fingers keeping a quick pace. She sobbed his name while rutting into her hand, and all she saw behind her eyes was the three of you. Her voice rose high as the orgasm was soon to flood her senses, Elijah’s close behind. “You and Sugar.”
You fell roughly to the ground, your head smacking hard against the giant tree roots. Wind knocked out of you as the intense dizziness from the fall set in. You’d had your anchor in the way when the female titan went to attack eren, thus leaving you barely conscious on the ground.
The intense ringing in your ear prevented you from hearing a thing going on, your vision wasn't much better. Yet you pushed to keep your eyes open, battling against the sudden heaviness of your eyelids as you zoned out, head still spinning.
—
Annie hadn’t registered your fall, that was until she heard a cry of your name from a
comrade, the distress in their tone made her pause, using the small time eren was stunned to look down. A familiar spec of (s/c) caught her attention as she heard a faint groan coming from you. Shit. she muttered to herself inside her titan, a sharp pain in her heart from realising she hurt you. Though, she supposed it was to be expected. Perhaps this was simply punishment from the divine for forgetting her mission. Oh right. The mission, using the strength she had left she (a/n: I forgot how this scene goes I'm sorry) snapped eren’s nape against the nearest tree, grabbing him in her mouth.
She glanced back at you, still woozy from the fall. The logical side of her screamed at her to just get out of there. To just go. But she remembered the feeling of when her “father” abandoned her. She wouldn’t, She couldn’t do that to you. She’s never forgive herself if she did. So, despite her brain internally screaming at her, she grabbed you and placed you on her shoulder and sprinted away barely registering that, in the time she was thinking, Levi had grabbed eren out of her mouth. She couldn’t tell if she either didn't notice, or if she just didn't have the capacity to care anymore. This whole thing had been emotionally draining
these are all the upcoming one shots that i plan to release in february! all of them are part of the valentine’s challenge by @thebumblebeesworld !! tell me which one you’re excited for!
