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Aug 17, 2025

Late-Night Detour 🍃

Modern!au Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Annie Moore

Word Count: 5k

Authors note: I really just be coming up with stuff yall. So here some random smut as a result of bed rottin’ on a Saturday. These two are quite feral for each other and it’s obvious that I love it 🙂‍↕️🤭. It may also be evident that my love language is physical touch but whatever 🤣. I’m also writing while watching preseason football. So expect a few football related blurbs in the near future. enjoy ya freaky frogs.

The sweet, lazy end of the night settles over the neighborhood like a warm blanket. The little backyard get-together has thinned out to just a few folks lingering on the porch, empty bottles clinking softly as they clean up. Smoke stands beside Annie on the steps, slow smile resting on his face, arm draped across her shoulders like he’s been standing that way all night. Because he has.

Annie’s tipsy off the sangria Marsai made, cheeks flushed and lips soft, laughing a little too easily at whatever their friend Lamar is saying. Smoke is mellowed as hell, his gaze was heavy and hooded and his voice deep and slow from the blunt he and Stack smoked inside Lamar’s smoke shed 30 minutes ago.

But even with all the laughter floating in the air, neither of them is paying real attention to anything except each other.

Every time Annie laughs, she folds into him. Every time Smoke says a little “yeah” in that low voice of his, his palm slides a little lower against her waist.

“Y’all takin’ off?” Lamar calls as he walks back inside with a handful of empty cups.

“Yeah,” Smoke grunts, nodding once. He gives him a quick pound with his fist but doesn’t step away from Annie.

Annie waves and offers a soft “goodnight!” before slipping her hand lightly around Smoke’s wrist. He lets her guide him off the porch and down the short path to the street, but not before letting his fingers skim down the small of her back.

The moment they step out from under the porch light, she slides her hand into the back pocket of his jeans. Slow, like she’s easing a secret inside. Her fingertips press into the denim and then a little deeper, curling just enough for him to feel that light scrape of her nails.

Smoke tilts his head down, lips twitching at the corner as he glances over at her. “You playin’ a dangerous game, baby.”

Annie just gives him this soft little smirk and leans in like she’s just getting comfortable, head resting on his shoulder as they walk. “I’m just holdin’ my man. That’s a crime now?”

He huffs a small laugh, but his own hand moves lower. Gliding from her waist down over the curve of her ass. Slowly. Possessively. The kind of touch that’s more warning than affection.

Annie lets out a tiny gasp, more breath than sound, and her fingers tighten in his pocket.

That makes him smirk. “Mmhm. Thought so,” he murmurs, deep voice brushing right against her ear.

They walk like that, tangled and quiet and up to no good — the rest of the way to the truck. The street is mostly empty, porch lights glowing in the distance, cicadas buzzing somewhere in the dark. Every few steps, Smoke’s fingertips dip just a little lower and Annie keeps pretending she doesn’t notice, even though the little sway in her hips gives her away.

When they reach the Ram, the royal blue coat almost gleaming under the streetlight, Smoke pauses. Then lets his eyes drag slowly down her body. From her curls resting against her shoulders to the way her dress clings to her thighs.

He exhales through his nose like he’s trying to keep calm. “Get in,” he mutters as he reaches past her and opens the passenger door. “Before I stop carin’ that we got onlookers.”

Annie bites back a grin and slips her hand out of his pocket but only so she can drag her fingers over the front of his belt on her way into the truck.

Smoke’s teeth clench as he watches her climb inside, that skirt lifting just enough to show a sliver of thigh before she settles into the seat.

He shakes his head once, muttering something low under his breath that sounds a lot like “mm… keep fuckin’ around”, then shuts the door and rounds the hood. Already feeling the heat building in his chest before he even touches the steering wheel.

Smoke climbs into the driver’s seat and pulls the door closed with a heavy thud. The Ram growls to life beneath them as he twists the key. A deep, throaty V8 rumble rolling through the cabin like a warning. He settles one hand on the wheel and the other over the shift, jaw clenched just enough to show that he’s still holding onto what little patience he has left.

Annie’s already sideways in her seat, legs pulled up a little, body angled toward him like she’s more interested in him than any scenery outside the window. The streetlights glide across her skin in soft gold streaks as he starts to drive, and every few seconds she lets her fingers graze the top seam of his jeans.

At first, it’s innocent.

It’s sweet.

Her palm resting lightly over his thigh, thumb brushing gentle, lazy circles.

Smoke doesn’t say anything right away. Just keeps his eyes on the road, fingers flexing on the steering wheel every time her thumb passes over that one sensitive spot near his inner thigh.

“You good?” he asks, voice low and syrup-thick, even though they both know she’s more than good.

“Mhm.” Annie nods, soft lips curved into that little smirk again. “Just like touchin’ you.”

Smoke huffs a small laugh but it’s tight, controlled, sitting somewhere deep in his chest.

They ride in silence for a minute, windows cracked, summer air slipping in just enough to carry the faint leftover scent of charcoal from the cookout. Annie’s eyes stay fixed on Smoke the whole time. Tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the way his arm flexes when he turns the wheel, the way that heavy gold Cuban link chain sits against his neck.

Then she lets her hand slide a half inch higher.

Smoke swallows once, slow, eyes still on the road. “Annie.”

“Hmm?”

“You doin’ too much.”

She smiles sweetly, chin tilted like she’s innocent. “I ain’t doin’ nothin’ papa.”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look at her but she can see the way his neck tightens just a little under that chain. She slides her hand up another inch. His thigh is warm and solid beneath her palm, muscles tensing ever so slightly from the pressure.

The truck coasts up to a red light. The glow of the signal spills through the windshield and washes over them both in soft red.

And Annie leans in.

Before Smoke can react, she presses her mouth against his neck. Soft at first, lips dragging slow against the spot right under his jaw. He inhales sharply. His hand tightens around the wheel, knuckles pale.

“Annie,” he warns again, voice rougher this time.

But she doesn’t stop. She lets her teeth graze the edge of his jaw, just the lightest bite, followed by a slow, open-mouthed kiss that leaves his skin hot beneath her tongue. Her hand slides higher, fingertips brushing dangerously close to his zipper.

Smoke’s head tilts just slightly. Not because he’s giving in, but because his body reacts before his mind can silence it. His eyelids flutter, lashes dropping low as a rumble slips up from his chest.

And then, low and gravel-deep, he speaks through clenched teeth:

“Don’t start nothin’ you ain’t ready to finish.”

Annie freezes for half a second. Heart thudding at the tone then smiles softly, eyes sparkling under the red light.

“But what if I am?”

Smoke turns his head just enough to meet her eyes, the corner of his mouth curling in a slow, dangerous smile. The light turns green…but he doesn’t hit the gas right away.

He just stares at her for a moment with that heavy, heat-filled stare that says you just made your choice. His fingers drum once on the wheel, slow and deliberate.

And then he exhales, shakes his head once with a low “A’ight,” and finally presses the pedal, the exhaust growling loud as the truck rolls forward down the quiet street…

…and Annie knows damn well that they are not going straight home anymore.

Smoke keeps driving, but the atmosphere inside the truck shifts completely. The air gets heavier, thicker, like every breath they take is laced with something electric. The engine snarls deep under the hood as he turns down a quieter street, leaving the main road behind.

Annie keeps her hand firmly on his thigh, gliding her palm higher in slow, deliberate strokes. Every few breaths she leans over and presses another soft kiss to his neck, a little bolder than the last. Sometimes she pulls back just enough to let her teeth graze the skin before soothing it with her tongue.

Smoke’s jaw works as he clenches his teeth. His thumb taps against the steering wheel like he’s trying to keep himself grounded. But every little sound she lets out, every faint little breath in his ear, drags his sanity a bit thinner.

“Annie,” he growls under his breath, not even looking at her now. “I’m tryna be polite.”

She laughs, low and soft and drags her nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. “Who said I want you polite?”

Smoke blows out a slow breath and glances at her briefly, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. He licks his bottom lip, then drops his hand from the steering wheel and lays it right over her knee. From there, he slides upward. A slow, intentional drag of his palm over her bare skin until he reaches the top of her thigh. His thumb strokes along the hem of her dress, just teasing the edge.

Annie’s breath catches in her throat.

“Keep touchin’ on me,” he mutters, low and barely audible over the rumble of the engine, “and I’m gon’ show you exactly what you been asking for.”

He says it like a promise. Calm, quiet, and dangerous in that way only Smoke can be.

She doesn’t back down. Instead, she shifts a little in her seat, thighs pressing together, and gives him one last soft kiss on the side of his neck. But this time, she tugs his chain with a curled pointer finger before letting it go with a quiet clink.

Smoke grunts quietly, head tipping back against the headrest for one tense second then he pulls himself together, eyes back on the road.

He turns down another street. Empty. No other cars. Just the glow of a couple streetlights and the sound of the tires humming over the asphalt.

Annie takes advantage of the silence and spreads her hand flat across his thigh, sliding up firmly until her knuckles press against his zipper. Smoke’s hand shoots up and grabs her wrist, stopping her.

He doesn’t push her hand away. He just holds it there, tight enough to make her pulse jump.

“Keep that right there,” he murmurs, voice almost a growl. “Don’t move it.”

She nods, it’s breathy, flushed, obedient. Leaves her hand exactly where it is. And Smoke hits a slow left turn, scanning the darkness until he spots what he’s been looking for: a dimly lit, empty storage lot tucked behind an abandoned strip mall.

The kind of place nobody drives past unless they got a reason to.

He presses on the gas, the Hemi roaring a little louder as the truck rolls toward the lot. Annie’s hand still right between his legs, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip to keep from smiling.

Smoke’s voice drops even lower.

“Bout to give you a reason to bite on ya lip, pretty girl…”

He flicks the blinker, pulls into the lot, and kills the headlights. The inside of the cab going dark except for the soft red glow of the dash.

Then he throws the truck into park.

The truck settles into silence as the engine idles, the dark interior pulsing with nothing but the sound of their breathing. Before Annie can say anything, Smoke turns in his seat and reaches for her. One large hand sliding along the side of her neck as he pulls her in.

He kisses her hard.

No teasing this time. No soft brushing of lips. It’s deep and full, lips pressing hard enough to steal the breath right out of her chest. Annie melts into it with a quiet whimper, one hand bracing on his chest and the other immediately drifting down to his lap.

Smoke groans low into her mouth as she strokes him through the denim. Steady and carnally focused, her palm dragging over the growing bulge straining against the front of his jeans. She smiles against his lips and whispers, “Told you…I been ready.”

He pulls back a little, eyes hooded and heavy with lust, breath coming out rough against her lips. “Yeah?” His hand slides up under her dress, fingers grazing dangerously high; then he grins, sharp and dark. “Then take yo’ pretty ass to the back seat.”

She barely has time to nod before he leans over her and presses one more heated kiss to her lips. Almost like he can’t help himself and then pulls the handle, shoving the driver’s side door open.

Annie gives him a coy look as she opens her own door and steps out, dress clinging to her thighs in the humid night air. She starts to walk toward the back of the truck but barely gets two steps before Smoke appears behind her and guides her ahead with a firm hand on her waist.

He opens the back door and nods his head inside, voice nothing more than a husky rumble in her ear. “Go on.”

Annie climbs in gradually, on purpose. Letting the dress ride up her thighs as she settles into the spacious backseat. She looks up at him through her lashes, lips parted just slightly.

Smoke watches her for a heartbeat. His eyes drag over every inch of her like he’s taking inventory then he climbs in after her, shutting the door behind him with a solid thunk that makes her jump a little.

The instant the door closes, it’s like something snaps. Smoke leans in and captures her mouth again, kissing her harder than before. His hand comes up to cup her jaw while the other spreads over her thigh, sliding up until his fingers brush her soaked panties.

Annie gasps against his lips. Her hips lifting instinctively and reaches down to unbutton his jeans.

“Been thinkin’ about this all night,” she breathes against his mouth, hand slipping back to stroke him through the denim one more time.

Smoke growls low, catching her wrist and pinning it down beside her head as he whispers against her lips.

“I know. And now you gon’ feel it.”

Smoke slides one knee onto the seat, towering over her in the dim light. The cab feels smaller all of a sudden. Air thick with sweat and tension. Annie bites her lip as he leans in, his forehead resting against hers for just a second, long enough for her to feel him breathing hard.

Then his mouth is on her neck. Hot, hungry kisses dragging down to her collarbone while his hand slips beneath her dress. His fingers press against the soft, damp fabric of her panties and he lets out a low, satisfied noise into her skin.

“Mm. Already wet for me, huh?”

Annie nods, legs spreading wider on instinct, dress bunched around her hips. He strokes her through the soaked fabric once…then again…slow and deliberate, until her hips start to roll against his hand.

“Papa,” she gasps, fingers digging into his shoulders.

He pulls back just long enough to yank her panties to the side. One thick finger slides between her folds, slick and easy, and Annie lean her head back with a sharp moan. Smoke grins against her throat and presses a second finger in, curling just right while his thumb circles her clit in slow, tight circles.

She’s already squirming. One hand fists in his shirt, the other clawing at the leather seat. He kisses her deep, his tongue sliding against hers swallowing every breathy moan she lets out. His fingers move faster and her thighs tremble around his wrist.

Right when she starts to lose it, he pulls his hand away.

She whines in protest.

Smoke only smirks, licking her arousal from his fingers before sitting back against the seat and spreading his legs. He unbuckles his jeans and pushes them down just enough to free his shaft, thick and heavy in his palm. Annie watches, eyes dark and hungry, as he strokes himself deliberately, just once before nodding her forward.

“C’mon, baby. You wanted it…”

Annie scrambles forward and straddles his waist, knees sinking into the seat on either side of him. Smoke grips her hips tight, guiding her as she lines herself up and sinks down onto him inch by inch. Her mouth falling open while a moan gets caught in her throat.

“F-fuck…”

Smoke’s head falls back against the backseat with a low growl. His hands flex over her hips, holding her still for a second while he fills her completely.

“Shiiit… look at you,” he murmurs, voice ragged, pulling her face down so he can kiss her again. “Takin’ all of it.”

He starts guiding her rhythm. Steady, rolling grind at first. Annie’s nails pierces into his shoulders as she rides him, dress slipping higher and higher until it’s bunched around her waist. Every time she moves, the truck creaks softly beneath them.

Smoke slides one hand up her torso, fingers wrapping around her throat as he whispers against her lips, “Keep ridin’ it like that. Good girl… Let me feel it.”

Annie lets out a broken moan and rolls her hips faster, the wet sound of her pussy slick against him filling the dark cab. Smoke watches her with eyes half open, breathing rough, hand tightening around her throat just enough to let her feel it. Whenever she moans too loud, he pulls her closer, letting her cry into his neck.

“You gon’ get us caught,” he growls against her ear. “Got you moanin’ in my fuckin’ truck like you want somebody to hear.”

Annie just whimpers and rides harder.

Smoke’s grip slips down to her ass, fingers digging in as he starts thrusting up into her. Each grind sends sharp little shocks of pleasure up her spine until she’s gasping for air. Sweat beads at her temple, lips parted, eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing her cheek. “That’s my good girl… keep goin’… don’t you stop, Baby.”

She whimpers again, pace faltering as her body trembles.

Smoke feels it. He feels her starting to fall apart and locks an arm around her waist, snapping his hips up into her harder now, faster.

“Go ‘head,” he grunts. “Let it go. Been beggin’ for it all night, now take it.”

Annie chokes out a cry as her orgasm hits. Her back arching while her whole body shakes against him. Smoke holds her there, deep and tight, groaning into her neck as her walls clamp down around him.

He barely lasts another few seconds. A deep, guttural sound rumbling from his chest as he spills into her, hips jerking up one final time. His arm tightens around her and he eases her down against his chest, both of them panting hard in the dark.

For a long moment, neither of them says a word. Annie rests her forehead against his shoulder, still trembling slightly. Smoke strokes a hand down her spine, lips pressing a slow, almost tender kiss to her damp shoulder.

“Mmm,” he murmurs, still catching his breath. “Knew that little dress was gon’ be trouble.”

Annie lets out a shaky laugh and presses a sleepy kiss against the side of his neck. “It was worth it.”

Smoke smiles. Small and soft and presses his palm to the back of her head, keeping her close for a moment longer before whispering, “Yeah… it was.”

They stay tangled just like that. Annie slumped against his chest, her soft breaths brushing the side of his neck, Smoke’s palm drifting slowly up and down her back. The cab is quiet except for the hum of the truck and the occasional creak of leather as he shifts to get more comfortable.

Smoke presses a lazy kiss to her temple. “You good, baby?”

Annie nods, still a little breathless. “Mmhmm,” she murmurs, voice soft and warm. “Better than good.”

He smiles, arms still wrapped securely around her waist like he doesn’t want to let her go just yet. She traces her fingers over his chain before lifting her head to kiss him. Slower now, sweet and lingering, like she’s trying to memorize the taste of him.

After a beat, he taps her thigh gently. “C’mon. Let’s get back in the front ‘fore somebody ride by and start recordin’.”

Annie laughs quietly and carefully pulls herself off him with a soft hiss, adjusting her dress as she climbs off his lap. Smoke tucks himself back into his jeans, watching her with that lazy, satisfied grin as she smooths down her dress and crawls out of the backseat.

They both walk around the side of the truck and slide back into the front. Annie still flushed and glowing, Smoke’s body still warm from the aftershocks. He starts the engine and pulls out of the lot, headlights washing over the pavement as they roll back onto the empty street.

Annie reaches over almost immediately and slips her hand back onto his thigh, thumb brushing slow circles again.

Smoke lifts a brow. “Girl…”

She grins, still looking forward innocently. “I like just touchin’ you.”

“Mhm. That’s what you said last time.”

Annie turns toward him, leaning in just a little. “Well… I might do more than touch when we get home.”

Smoke blows out a soft breath, eyes narrowing like a warning but the smile tugging at his lips gives him away. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” She lets her voice drop soft and sweet. “Round two. In our bed this time.”

Smoke’s grip tightens slightly on the wheel, a low hum rolling in his chest. “Shit… say less.”

She bites her lip and keeps her hand on his thigh for the entire ride, occasionally dragging her nails just hard enough to make him glance over with that low, dangerous smirk.

By the time they pull into the driveway, the air between them is thick all over again and Smoke doesn’t even cut the engine before looking over at her and saying, voice rough and full of heat.

“Go on and take that dress off soon as we walk in the house. I ain’t done witchu yet.”

Annie’s only response is a quiet, satisfied laugh as she unclips her seatbelt and opens the door. Already stepping out into the night with a little extra sway in her hips, knowing damn well he’s watching every step.

The moment they step through the front door, Smoke locks it behind them with a solid click. Annie’s already halfway down the hallway, fingers slipping beneath the straps of her sundress as she walks. Her hips swaying just a little harder than necessary.

She glances back over her shoulder, eyes dark and playful.

“You still watchin’ me?”

Smoke’s gaze drags over her body like a physical touch. “Ain’t stopped watchin’ you all night.”

Annie smirks and slips one strap off her shoulder…then the other. The top of the dress slides down, soft fabric gliding over her curves as she backs toward the bedroom, step by step.

“You gon’ keep watchin’…or you gon’ do somethin’ about it, big man?”

Smoke’s tongue drags across his bottom lip, slow and hungry. He watches the dress fall the rest of the way, pooling at her feet in the hallway. Leaving her in nothing but those panties that are still damp from the truck.

She hooks her finger in the waistband and gives it a little tug as she turns and disappears into the bedroom.

Smoke is right behind her.

She makes it to the foot of the bed just as his hands catch her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest. His lips land at her ear, voice husky and dark. “Keep talkin’ like that.”

Annie lets her head fall back against his shoulder, smile spreading across her lips. “You like when I talk nasty to you?”

Smoke answers by biting her neck. A sharp, possessive nip then soothing the mark with his tongue. “I like when you earn it.”

She gasps softly, leaning into him as his hands slide up her stomach and cup her breasts, thumbs brushing across her nipples until she squirms. He groans into her skin, like the feel of her alone is enough to undo him, then spins her gently to face him.

“This how you wanna act?” he murmurs, stepping forward until the back of her knees hits the edge of the bed.

Annie bites her lip and nods, eyelids criminally low. “Wanna act however you need me to.”

Smoke’s jaw ticks at that statement. Something messy and primal flickering in his eyes. He pushes her gently down onto the mattress and drags her panties off in one slow pull, tossing them somewhere behind him without looking away from her.

“Spread ’em.”

She obeys instantly, legs opening wide as she props herself up on her elbows. “That enough for you, Papa?”

Smoke’s eyes darken completely.

He climbs onto the bed, grabbing her thighs and yanking her to the edge with one rough tug that makes her gasp. “Keep callin’ me papa,” he growls, lowering himself between her legs. “See what it gets you.”

Right before his mouth meets her pussy, Annie moans, “Gets me whatever I want.”

Smoke’s laugh is low and sinful before he drags his tongue up her dripping slit and his laugh dies in his throat is replaced with a deep groan of approval. Annie’s head falls back instantly, fingers gripping the sheets as his mouth works slow, steady strokes against her. His tongue circling her clit while his hands hold her thighs open, keeping her from squirming away from the heat.

She moans his name. Over and over. Her hips rocking helplessly into his face. Smoke is relentless, sucking and licking like he missed her flavor the whole damn time they were in the truck. When she starts to tremble again, he slips two fingers inside her, thrusting slow and deep as his tongue flicks faster over her clit.

“F-fuck… Papa, I—” Her voice breaks, eyes rolling back.

He pulls back just enough to murmur against her soaked skin, “Yeah. Gimme that shit. Cum for me again.”

The command snaps something loose in her. She cries out loud, desperate and shatters for the second time, thighs clamping around his head as she rides out the wave.

Smoke lets her ride it, tongue still working slow until she goes limp against the mattress.

He finally pulls back, licking his lips with a glistening beard as he crawls over her body. She’s still shaking when he lines himself up again and presses the thick head of his throbbing length against her entrance.

“Still wanna moan my name like that?” he asks, voice low and dangerous.

Annie wraps her arms around his neck and smirks up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Only if it keeps you fuckin’ me like this.”

Smoke lets out a dark laugh and sinks all the way into her with one hard thrust.

Annie’s head snaps back, a raw moan ripping from her throat as he starts moving. Smoke is taking his time at first, dragging out every inch before slamming back into her. The bed creaks beneath them, headboard tapping softly against the wall. He grips her thigh and pushes her knee up toward her chest, driving deeper until she’s whining his name over and over again.

“Yeah,” he growls, breathing ragged. “Talk some shit now. Tell me who pussy this is.”

“Y-yours,” she stammers, tugging him down for a messy kiss. “It’s yours. Always been yours.”

Smoke groans into her mouth and starts pounding her harder, fucking her into the mattress until her voice gets too breathless to form words. He presses his forehead to hers, whispering dirty praises and soft, possessive growls in the same breath until her nails claw into his back and she shatters for one last time.

He follows her a second later, hips jerking as he spills deep inside her with a broken curse.

For a long minute, they stay there. Bodies slick with sweat, hearts racing, breath mingling in the dark. Then Smoke presses a long, slow kiss to her lips. Softer this time.

“Now,” he mutters against her mouth, “go to sleep before you get me started on round three.”

Annie laughs weakly, curling her fingers in his hair. “Might have to set an alarm for that… just in case.”

Smoke smirks and kisses her again. Lazy, tender then pulls the covers over both of them, tucking her into his chest like she’s the only thing in the world worth protecting.

One of the last things Annie hears before sleep starts to pull her under is Smoke’s voice, soft and low in her ear:

“Love you, baby. Ain’t never gettin’ enough of you.”

The room stays quiet, lit only by the faint glow slipping in through the curtains. Their breaths slow together, soft and steady, as the adrenaline fades and comfort takes its place. Annie shifts just enough to tuck her face against his chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns over the tattoo beneath her palm.

Smoke tightens his arm around her waist and presses one last kiss to her forehead. Simple, gentle, full of something old and permanent.

Outside, the night keeps on moving.

Inside, everything settles into a hush like the world itself is leaving them alone.

She lets out a small, satisfied hum and sinks fully into him. Warm, safe, absolutely wrecked and absolutely his.

Smoke hums right back.

“Go to sleep, pretty girl,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over her hip. “I’ll still be right here when you wake up.”

And with the sound of his heartbeat in her ear, Annie finally lets her eyes close, falling into the kind of deep, peaceful sleep a woman only gets when she’s worn the hell out and loved just right.

——-

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