HONEY • MOLASSES
sinners valentine’s challenge • song #21
pairing: modern!au annie x smoke • song: honey molasses by jill scott
cw: smut, whiny!annie, friends with benefits, smoke talking her through it :3, brief mention of alcohol
a/n: i loved imagining this beautiful song with my babiesss. i made a few changes toward the end but yesss. enjoyyy
valentine’s masterlist • general masterlist • valentine's challenge created by @thebumblebeesworld
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The pair hadn’t been fooling around that long. Just long enough to learn light habits and friends’ names. Just long enough to become familiar and for kisses to linger longer than necessary and for them to get up under each other’s skin. They hadn’t grown too close with their words, but their bodies craved the closeness of the other, and the more time went on, the stronger the feelings grew.
Annie moved around her home quickly. Smoke was on his way, her space wasn’t necessarily tidy, and something in her heart felt different. He’d been over plenty before, had been inside her before, but their friendship had changed in a way that felt foolishly one-sided. They’d determined that things were just casual: Smoke would come over, hang, chill, fuck—that was it. But Annie was starting to feel her heart tangling around him in a way she couldn’t fully describe. There was no word to explain it, no way to express her soul’s yearning.
So she allowed the situation to continue as is and let the feeling fester to the point of unbearability because she enjoyed her time with Smoke. Even in the confusion that was her feelings, Annie adored how simple things seemed, how honest and straightforward. Smoke didn’t talk out the side of his ass or attempt to make himself bigger than he was—partly because he didn’t need to, partly because he wanted Annie to know the real him. And that’s the part that had her heart wrapping around him.
Annie glided through the living room, feet on autopilot as she swept and tidied. Lighting incense in her path and sitting two wine glasses on the coffee table, she took a second to breathe.
Tonight is no different than any other night, she thought to herself, measuring her breaths to bring her calm. You know him, Ann, she sighed. This is Smoke.
She stepped toward the record player in the corner of the room when her thoughts began to feel impossible. She flipped through vinyls, all of her and Smoke’s favorites on top from the last time he was over. When she settled on one, she set it to play, allowing the melodies to enter her body, ease her mind, and calm her nerves. This was Smoke. She knew him. He was nobody to be afraid of being honest with.
But when the doorbell rang and she saw his foggy silhouette through the window, her body jumped in returned-fear all the same.
She paced shortly—just twice to gain her bearings. Then she turned towards the door, eyes on the handle before darting over to the mirror nearby. She checked her reflection—just once to make sure she looked presentable. And she opened the door for the man, stepping back fully to give them both space to watch each other.
When she saw him, standing there thick in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, everything felt right again and even more confusing at the same time. He brought her that quiet comfort she’d learned to anticipate, but when their eyes met, the closeness that was growing between them latched onto her heart.
Smoke and Annie moved around the space like they always did. It was a normal regular night like any other normal regular night, but the woman’s heart was pounding, and beneath the man’s hardened exterior was a feeling he was struggling to name himself. They sat on her couch, avoided using their words by nodding to the music from the record player or sipping on wine. Glass after glass was taken to the head as their eyes drifted over each other, fingers reaching out to say what their mouths couldn’t.
“You sittin’ far away today,” the man spoke low, pulling one of her legs to rest over his lap. Annie immediately shook her head to hold back the shiver that was fighting to run through her legs and down toward the ankle his hand was wrapped around. He rubbed her calves, attempting to ease her tension as she scoffed.
“I’m protectin’ my peace,” she pulled away from him, leaving the man with a straight face.
“Is that so,” he prodded, moving closer. Smoke’s nose went into her neck, nudging at her skin in the way he knew her body couldn’t resist. He felt her melt, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I think you just holdin’ something back. What is it?”
The woman responded with a sharp huff, bringing her body all the way to the other end of the couch and away from his soothing hands. She tapped her foot. Crossed her arms. Straightened her shoulders. And none of that worked to get her mind under control. She needed that man deeply, beyond sex and wordless conversations. She needed him whole, and as she felt the heat of his eyes on her, she gave up on trying to hush her mind on her own. She turned to the next best thing.
“Just get yo’ ass over here and fuck me already.”
The demand was sharp—cold in a way she never was with him, bold in a way that challenged his control—and when she saw his eyes flash, she knew she was in for it. Smoke crossed over to where she was on the couch, immediately capturing her lips in a passionate, bruising kiss. His hands were everywhere: on her back, her neck, her stomach, her ass, her thighs. It didn’t do much to quell the questions in her head, but it damn sure did feel good. Positioning her back flat on the couch, the man trailed his lips down her body, pulling off clothes everywhere he went.
With hot lips and hotter hands, Smoke took back control and hushed her angered-mouth. The only thing meeting his ears now was the sound of her needy moans. Annie pulled at his clothes, desperately needing them off, and he obliged. They laid there together—naked and needy—ruining the other person’s body. Everything had been abrupt: too fast, too urgent, too clashing. But when their bare bodies met, everything began to churn at a slow pace—desire embedding itself into their hearts and underneath their skin.
With her back flush with the couch and Smoke over her, Annie moaned in delightful agony as the man teased her folds. He dragged his tip down from her clit, toward her entrance, and back up again—enough to leave her desperate yet satisfied with the teasing. He pushed the limits, swirling her clit with his own throbbing arousal, but his eyes were on her face the whole time. The scrunching of her eyebrows and quivering of her lip. The flashing of her eyes and slackening of her jaw.
Annie was beautiful, and Smoke was growing to enjoy her in a whole other way. It had just been short conversation with good pussy every now and then, but the man couldn’t fuck her without his attention settling in her face for too long. He couldn’t go about his day without thinking about texting her to ask how she was doing. He attributed it to the intimate nature of their friendship, but it was certainly more than just friendly admiration at this point.
Watching her head tip back into the cushions, Smoke’s eyes softened, mind becoming locked in on the woman’s pleasure alone. No more teasing. No more holding anything back.
They both collapsed into each other when Smoke finally allowed them both to give in. Bodies pressed together and legs tangled, they met in another heated exchange. The kiss was like chocolate slowly melting in the summer sun—warm, thick, and silky. They took each other in and held each other close as the man rocked into the woman below him. Annie’s pelvis tilted so he could get to her at the right angle, and he immediately placed his hands under her ass to hold her there himself.
Annie adored the fact that Smoke prioritized her pleasure. Even though she believed he only came over because she was a warm body to hold into, she knew in the back of her mind that he would always make sure that she enjoyed herself. Her fulfillment was the most important thing to him, even beyond his own. That’s why he kissed her as he stroked, whispered into her ear about how well she was taking him, held her body like she deserved to be the most worshipped woman on Earth. He took care of her, and that’s what made Annie that much more nervous about what her heart was telling her.
“Smoke,” she cried, choking around his name with a soft sob. The man immediately snapped at attention, not stopping his strokes but moving his face toward hers to make sure she was good. He surveyed her and immediately noted the pout on her lips.
“What’s wrong, baby,” he breathed heavily, body wanting to tumble. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He was beyond worried, but he couldn’t let it show. He needed to be that solid thing for her, but Annie noticed the way his eyes looked broken.
“I can’t,” Annie whimpered. She pulled him closer, hands gripping at whatever she could as a signal to him that she didn’t want him to stop; And Smoke listened. He kept taking them both through the motions, pulling feelings out of each other that neither of them knew how to handle.
“That’s ok,” Smoke whispered in her ear, kissing the side of her neck. He pressed closer as she moaned without restraint. With soft words, he eased her pain. “Let me help you feel good.”
And help her feel good he did.
The pair grinded against each other. Their hips rocked, the couch providing them support as they fell apart. Annie’s mind was gone, and as Smoke facilitated her pleasure, he drifted off right behind her.
“You feel like heaven,” the man groaned, body caving to the feeling of her clenching around him. They were in a different position now: Annie straddling him as his back rested against the back of the couch; His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her down onto his length. The woman moaned unabashedly. She thanked him for taking care of her. She praised him for his job well done. Annie was drunk off the feeling of him dragging along her walls, and she cried when they pulsed around each other. “This pussy mine,” Smoke gritted his teeth, pulling her down harsher as the sound of her enjoyment coursed through him. But Annie shook her head with a whine, wrapping her arms around his head. Her face went in his neck.
“You can’t say things like that,” she cried, legs shaking. The man scoffed.
“And why not,” he growled, mind telling him that there was nothing wrong with claiming her the way he did. He always said things like that, but right now, it was far more heated than ever, far truer than they could admit. The room was suffocating in their mutual need. “I can’t say that this my pussy,” he probed, pulling at her hair. He forced her eyes upon him, face tight. “Answer me, baby,” he cooed, thrusting upward each time she came down.
“No, you can’t,” the woman shivered. She held onto him too tight, trying to keep her body together and her mind in working order. But he was fucking her dumb, and she kept having to bite her tongue at what she really wanted to say.
“Why,” he pressed, thrusts filthy. “You can’t take it?”
Annie couldn’t take any of it. Not his harsh thrusts mixed with soft and caring hands. Not his goading words laced in whatever that sweetly taunting cadence was. She felt like she was going to burst simply from how large her feelings were for the man, and she couldn’t take it—so she answered as truthfully as she could manage.
“N-no,” she whimpered, fingers splaying across his shoulders while she bounced. The man just kept going with his words though, addicted to her.
“You can’t take knowin’ that this mine? That you mine?” Smoke stared through her, chest expanding in size every time her eyes flashed open for just a millisecond. His lower stomach was beginning to pitch, but all he was concerned about was her pleasure, so he pushed through it.
“Please, baby,” she whined, shaking her head profusely, needing reprieve from all he was giving her and wanting it at the same time. The choked when his hips snapped up again, increasing in their strength. He pulled her head back by her hair to expose her neck, and once she gave in like she always did, the man was sucking and biting all over her.
“You mine, Annie. Your pussy. Yo’ moans. All of you,” he melted into her, breath hot. He stroke as well as he could, but the feeling of her orgasm on the rise was pulling one fresh out of him. He opened his mouth in a deep moan, grunting as he pushed them over the edge. “Go on and cum for me, baby. Tell me how good it feel,” he demanded, needing this one last thing from her. And Annie did as best as she could.
“Eli-Elijah,” she cried, breaking by the second. When it finally hit, they came together, harsh moans and soft whimpers mingling. Their limbs shook with force, and their minds fell off into the pleasure. Annie's head was still dropped backward, whines going out and to the ceiling while the man beneath her clung to her body. Smoke's arms were wrapped firm around her waist as he took them through the motions of their pleasure. Pulling her down onto him slowly, he felt his eyes become hot and his chest open up. Annie herself felt the same, and unable to hold herself back any longer. Her heart finally tore itself open and presented itself before the man.
“I love you, Elijah.”
The declaration was broken—honest and reverent. She didn't use his given name often, but when she did, it was with the most love that she had to give. Everything was out in the open now, and with his arms wrapped around her and his face in her chest, Smoke paused.
Annie immediately sensed the shift. The room went quiet. All sound halted and clung to that last creaking cry of his name, and Annie thought her heart was going to give out. Swallowing around her hurt, the woman pulled away from him. She rose from him lap, crossed her arms over herself. With emotion pulsating behind her eyes, she stared down at the man on her couch. His face was blank, eyes distant and empty, but hers were growing hotter by the second.
Both of their souls were still tangled up in the moment they'd just shared—how they had been more vulnerable than they ever had, how they cried and moaned for the other person without feeling the need to hold back. Smoke didn't know how to feel. In his mind, things were beginning to piece themselves together—those late night calls just to hear each other breathe, those text messages sent about not wanting to be in bed alone, all those instances of him simply wishing the woman was near him.
But love?
Smoke wasn't a man who knew love. He didn't open himself up in that way. He didn't let people in. But somehow, he'd let Annie be close, and he'd never even questioned it. Before now.
He shook his head, eyes glossing over as he reached down. His fingers wrapped around the clothes that were strewn about the room. He pulled his hoodie over his head, briefs and sweatpants back on. Then he took the sight of her in again. His heart was beating hurriedly, chest caving in from an influx of emotion, but he melted at the look in her eyes like always.
“Look,” he began, throat raw in a mix of agony and love. He reached his hand toward her, but Annie completely turned around and moved to picking her clothes up. He watched as she threw a blanket over herself, and he released a broken sigh. “I just need some time to think,” he tried to get across, but his words were unstable and Annie didn't care to hear anything else he had to say.
~~~~~
Both members of the pair felt incomplete without the other. It had only been a few days, but without knowing for sure if the other person wanted them, they felt like they were floating aimlessly. Annie was sure that Smoke hated her now. She'd convinced herself that he was weirded out by her declaration, that he found her stupid because they were just supposed to be friends who fucked when they felt like it. She had crossed a line that was previously set in stone, but when the lines began to blur around their situation, her heart couldn't help but to nudge its way in there.
Smoke's turmoil was a whole other thing. He'd spent the first day trying to understand that everything he'd been feeling for Annie was indeed love, and after that, urgency entered his body. There's no way she wants me now, he'd thought to himself. Ain't no way she want a man that up and leaves when feelings get real. He didn't know what to do or how to approach her after how he'd left things.
That night, with her back facing him and her arms wrapped around her tight, Smoke let out a sharp yet saddened huff and turned toward the door. He sent a look over his shoulder just once, but when he was still met with the back of her head, he just left.
No goodbye. No we'll talk soon. No I love you, too.
How he'd left her hurt more than anything else.
The man was laying in his bed, head pounding and body unsettled. He needed to hear her—her voice, her breath, the way she said his name. But his mind was still reeling with the thought that she would shun him. He'd been stalking her social media and rereading their texts all night. No posts. No stories. No new reposts on TikTok. No new messages coming through his phone. But he also hadn't sent any himself, and if anyone was in the wrong there, it was him.
So he stared at the phone screen, her name in simple letters staring right back at him, and he pressed call.
The phone rang once, rowdy and gut-wrenching. He waited. It rang a second time, insistent. And right before the third ring, the woman picked up.
Annie said nothing when Smoke didn't. She was sat against her head board, hands bunching around her blanket in anticipation. She could hear the rising and falling of his chest. Every few seconds, his breath would get caught up in a way she didn't recognize from the man. It sounded like what her own lungs had been doing just before he called, but when she saw his name flash across the screen of her phone, she straightened up and put on a brave face.
On the other side of the phone, the man was ragged just from the sound of her hardened breathing on the other end. He cleared his throat and sunk further into the bed.
“Annie,” he greeted densely.
“What,” the woman crooned, already growing hot in more ways than one.
“I—I was callin’ about the other night,” Smoke tried again. His hands shook in anxiety, convinced that this would end ugly. "About last night—”
“What about it,” Annie rolled her eyes. She was already on the defense because in her mind, Smoke hated her and wanted nothing to do with her or her love. But even as she attempted to appear like stone, her heart was flushing from the sound of his voice.
The man cleared his throat, eyes on the ceiling as they began to grow wet. His jaw clenched and unclenched, and he finally let the words loose. When he spoke them, both of their souls expanded, truth and adoration communing as one. Annie's brave front swiftly fell just from those few simple words.
“Annie,” he'd cried, throat torn. “I love you, too, baby.”
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word count: ~3,400
a/n: i love them so :(
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