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akjonthebeat · 14 days ago

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Yes, I'm a writer but this is my very first fanfic! I just love Annie down and I want to write about HER. What comes with Annie...SMOKE.

This is a Wunmi stan account.

More Than Words Left Between Us -Deshon Dreamz

Smoke x Annie #OneShot

Warnings: Child Loss, Smut, Explicits, Adult 18+, Fan Fic, Errors

Annie's shop Scene Modern Day Revision

Smoke returns to visit his daughter and Annie but Annie had a visitor(a man).

If you asked to be tagged, I don't know how 😂😂 I'm new to Tumblr!

This song was on a loop as I wrote this!

WC: 2.6K

More Than Words Left Between Us

Smoke X Annie #Sinners

Warning: Smut, Cursing, mentions of miscarriage

The gravel beneath his tires caused his truck to rock slightly as he slowly pulled onto the property. His heart raced in anticipation and…fear. He'd been beaten by the most undefeated concept to ever exist. Time. He wondered if too much of it had passed, preventing the remedy for his pain from becoming a reality.

He needed her.

She was the only balm he knew.

Fear crippled him as he slowly allowed his truck to come to a rolling stop. His feet felt cemented to the floor of his truck as he took in a calming breath. His hand moved to the handle of the door, stalling as he attempted to mentally go over the words he would say to her.

His lips lacked communication; there was no way they would properly relay the inner dialogue of his heart. The door of the truck felt weighed. He struggled, his body too emotionally fragile to complete the task he carried out with ease multiple times a day. His eyes lifted to the rebuilt structure sitting solo in the middle of the wooded area. Anyone in their right mind would be cautious of the area, staying away. Smoke on the other hand, felt at home.

Chicago had done a number on him, both mentally and physically. The weight in his shoulders caused tension in his back, the crisp air of the night slapped him viciously as he climbed from the truck. His frame felt stoic, robotic even. He moved with the stature of a man pained by years of separation from his love.

On top of the many emotions he felt regarding his love, grief was also an invisible anchor. His body moved on autopilot as he walked over to the small gravesite nestled in the back of the house. He clutched the white daisy’s in his right hand, as he came to a stop.

A small headstone, so prematurely manufactured for his child loss too soon. His heart grew heavier as he kneeled, using his hand to sweep away the dust and leaves that had fallen, obstructing the name of his daughter.

“Papa’s here.” He muttered, tears brimming around his eyes as he continued to silently mourn. “Papa’s here.” He tried again, more determined this time.

He stayed in his squatted position for a moment longer, placing the flowers on top of the tombstone before he stood, exhaling as he did so. His face was set in a stoned expression as he reached into his pocket, looking back at his truck before he hit the lock button.

His hand stilled in the air, brows touching as his eyes landed on a white Hemi truck sitting not too far away from where he parked.

Has that been there? He questioned internally. “The fuck?” He groaned out loud before his feet automatically began marching towards the front of the house. Before he could lift his hand to knock, the door was snatched open.

Just like the first time he laid eyes on her, the beauty she possessed rendered him speechless. His breath caught in his throat as Annie stood before him, looking like something his brain had imagined. Her smooth dark skin glistened under the Mississippi sun as she stepped out of the house, forcing him backwards. Her eyes held onto his for a moment before she spoke.

“What…Smoke?”

He blinked. “Who’s truck is that?”

Her face shifted. Annie struggled with the fact that he was standing in front of her. So long he'd been a figment of her imagination. She felt her heart trip in her chest; refreshed love and old wombs reopening at the sight of him. So many unspoken words between them and he was asking about a truck? “You've been gone seven years and that's your first statement to me??” Her nostrils flared, doe eyes somehow rounded twice their size.

Immediately, he had to acknowledge just how good time had been for her. She was stunning, always stunning. Tall, thicker than day old grits and as fiery as any woman had the right to be. Smoke felt like not a day had passed between them.

She was and still is…his one true love.

Smoke found himself trying to recover. “Well, how ya been?”

Annie crossed her arms over her chest protectively, feeling her defenses slowly be disarmed by his handsome ruggedness. Elijah "Smoke” Moore was the love of her life, the father of her loss child and in so many ways, her reason for being. “I won't complain. Ain't gone help none.” She exhaled slowly. “Are you here alone?”

Smoke nodded. “Yeah! Stack in town handling business.” He answered, giving the whereabouts of his twin brother.

“Well, whatchu come back fo?”

Smoke fidgeted with his hat, instantly feeling unsettled under Annie’s almost telepathic gaze. “Opening up a club close to downtown, wanting you with me tonight.”

“A club.” Annie’s chin dropped. “That sounds like a Stake idea.”

“Just tryna go legit.”

“Y'all couldn't open this club in Chicago? Last I heard y'all were northern men.”

“Nah. We done in Chicago.”

“Chicago done with y'all?”

Smoke squinted. “What you asking?”

“What you running from now, Smoke?”

Smoke was a trained warrior, tested in battle fields that claimed the lives of the strongest of men. Yet, in front of her, he was merely a man. One incapable of getting a lie past her. He knew she would see through any lie he told, so he ignored her question, posing one of his own. “You gone tell me who’s truck that is?”

“That'll be my truck.” A man he wasn't familiar with came from around the side of the house, limbs and twigs from an oversized tree that hung over the side of the house, tucked under his arms. His smile didn't quite reach the level needed to be friendly as he dropped the twigs in a stack with others. Smoke immediately frowned, silently looking between the man and Annie. “It ain't for sale, if that's whatchu askin’.”

“Oh no.” Annie groaned under her breath before stepping down off the porch.

Smoke’s head tilted slightly, eyes hard. “Look like I'm here to buy a truck, mothafucka?”

Annie placed her body in front of Smoke, turning to her company. “Jason, this is Elijah…my ex.”

“Ex?” Smoke repeated, eyes cast down before they shot to her. “Since the fuck when?”

Annie turned to him. “Since you left and decided to stay away.”

Smoke glared at her; his anger not exactly directed at her. “Yeah well, we back now so you can tell ya lil boyfriend he can wrap this shit up. I no longer need a stand in; the original is back.”

“Stand in?” Jason questioned with a low chuckle.

“You heard me.” Smoke muttered, his dark features set in an intense scowl. “I ain't gone say that shit again. Ya times up.”

Jason’s eyes hit Annie, silently asking her what she wanted him to do. “Can I call you later?”

Jason’s eyes narrowed before they went back to Smoke. His eyes remained on Smoke as he answered. “You sure can.”

“What exactly would you be calling him to talk about?" Smoke questioned, his eyes hard on Annie.

“Seems like that’s something we gone discover when that call happens, now doesn’t it.” Jason's smirk grew at the pure rage in Smoke's expression.

Smoke’s patience was nonexistent. He also didn’t take kindly to disrespect.

As Jason continued to smirk at him, Smoke reached behind him, producing a .45 and pointing at Jason who immediately froze in place. Smoke enjoyed the expression of fear covering his face before he lowered the gun, shooting him in his foot.

Jason immediately screamed, falling to the ground. “Mothafucka, you shot me!”

“Next one going between ya eyes.” Smoke groaned, unfazed. “Now get up, go to that ugly ass truck and don’t come back this way no mo.”

“Elijah!” Annie screeched.

Smoke continued to mug Jason as he cried on the ground, holding his foot. “Gone tell him the truth, baby. Let him know you won't be calling.”

“Are you insane?!”

“Tell him!” He urged through clenched teeth. “Go head.”

Annie didn't speak, instead she continued to glare at Smoke before she turned to walk back into the house.

“Act like you know who I am and move accordingly.” Smoke kept his gun trained on Larry who was finally able to get to his feet and began hobbling away. “Come back here and you die.” He lowered the gun, kissing his teeth. He mugged him one last time before following Annie into the house.

Annie was livid. This was a level of audacity only smoke could have. As she walked deeper into her home, she could feel him following her. She was torn, now she didn't know what she wanted to address first; him being back after leaving her for all those years or him running Larry off when he had no right to do so.

“I've been telling you to let me cut that tree down for years, Annie.” Smoke removed his hat, placing it on the island in her kitchen before he continued through the living room, into her bedroom where she stood, visibly upset. He steps slowed, eyes softening at once at her expression. Pissing her off was the last thing he wanted to do. “Wouldn't have no issue with twigs then.”

“You come in here talking about a tree when you just shot him?”

Smoke looked to the side, eyes low. “Ya boyfriend gone live.”

“The fucking nerve of you.” Annie couldn’t contain her anger; she wanted to hit him.

“About the tree.” Smoke changed the subject, wanting to move on. “How long you been having him come pick up the twigs?”

Annie’s head fell to the side slightly. “You expect me to let them pile up waiting on you?”

“It's folks you can call to have them removed, having some random…”

“He ain't random!” Annie snapped. “He been round here for years.” Her brow lifted stubbornly, ready for whatever verbal tussle Smoke wanted to have. She didn't care. Her pain wouldn't allow her to spare his feelings.

“Years?” His voice was low, dripped in a southern drawl only the Delta of Mississippi could provide. All those years away, and it hadn't faded at all. “Whatcha mean by years?”

“You would know if you were here.” Annie walked around her bed, getting into his face. “Years.” She dragged, emphasizing the s. “Them twigs ain't the only thing he's been tending to neither, Smoke.”

“You fuckin’ him?” Smoke felt like his chest would explode. Fresh heat spread through his body, starting at the soles of his feet. The thought of someone else touching her made him nauseous. “Annie…”

"Why would it matter to you who...I...fuck?" She dragged. "Huh?"

Smoke felt immediate regret for not killing ole boy. "You know he's as good as dead, right?"

"Oh, that's rich." She snapped. "Should I get my blade ready for the trail of bitches I'm sure you left in Chicago?"

Smoke's nostrils flared again. Anger consumed him again. "Annie, did you fuck..."

“Never sex.” She replied, wanting to exaggerate the truth but not wanting to put Jason in any more danger. They'd never been intimate. “The furthest we've gone is a drunk kiss we shared one of the nights I spent crying on his shoulder about you.”

Smoke’s trained expression didn't change, though hearing about her pain made him feel weak. “Look…”

Tears rimmed her eyes as she stepped back from him. The sight made Smoke’s heart skip a beat, his words tripping to an abrupt stop as he looked at her. He stood there, suspended in time like Annie felt she'd been all these years.

“I've spent 7 whole years processing by myself. I've had to grieve our child alone. I've had to grieve the love we shared, not knowing if I would ever feel it again. I've spent every single day praying for you and Stack. Now you right back in front of me, perfectly whole and asking me about a man who could never replace you in my heart.” She shook her head as the first tear slipped. She swiftly wiped it away, disappointed in herself for even allowing it to fall. “You're a fool, Elijah Moore.”

Smoke, never the talker, continued looking at her. “I am a fool.”

Annie looked up at him. “Why are you here?”

Smoke stepped into her, thankful she didn't step back. “I'm man enough to say it.”

“Then say it.” She urged.

Smoke continued to stare down at her, holding her eyes. “I was a coward, Annie. I ran. I left you and I ran to Chicago to avoid the pain of losing our child. I was wrong for leaving you here to deal with that alone. I also shouldn’t make you feel bad about whatever you did to cope.” He stepped closer to her, grabbing her face. “I want you to understand that I know what I did wrong and I’m here because I want to fix it. I…I need to fix it Annie because I love you…and I’ve missed you.”

Annie stood there, unsure of what to say to him. Her heart felt split between defense and dropping all guards to him. Mentally, she was scared of what would happen if she exposed herself to him too soon. So, she allowed her heart and brain time to settle their dispute while her body yielded to him.

She would check back in with her emotions later. Right now, she craved him in a way she never craved another man. She closed the distance between them, looking up at him as his hard eyes remained on her. Without reserve, she reached up to grab the back of his head, pulling his lips to hers. Smoke felt his world rock of it’s axis as his lips touched hers. Years of pain evaporated from him as he reached, grabbing her to pull her into his chest. He groaned as her tongue slipped into his mouth, creating complete silence in his overactive brain. He reached down, grabbing as much of her ass his hands would allow before lifting her into his arms. Annie yelped, scared momentarily that Smoke would drop her. She was a lot more than skin and bones, but that wasn’t something Smoke didn’t know. She exhaled into his mouth as he effortlessly maneuvered her onto the bed, forcing her back. He climbed on top of her, returning his mouth to hers. His eager hands reached for the nightgown she wore, ripping it in his pursuit to get it off her body. Annie’s pants grew wilder as his hands found their way to her breast as they spill from her gown. Smoke moved with the precision of a starving man as he cupped her breast, sending his tongue over her large mahogany nipples. Smoke lifted, removing his vest from his body before going for his shirt. Annie began to assist him, feeling she couldn’t get his clothes off fast enough. Once he was down to his slacks, he moved back between her legs, settling between them as his hand reached between her legs. Once he felt her clit, then dipped his fingers lower, he was met with her wetness. He exhaled, feeling overwhelmed by the discovery.

“You get this wet for him, Annie?”

She shook her head, feeling anxious. “No.”

Smoke continued to slide his fingers over her clit, making her wetter before he removed his fingers from her, slipping them into his mouth. Annie watched through hooded eyes as he licked each finger slowly. When he was done, he kissed her again, grabbing his dick to place it at her entrance. Slowly, he returned home. Smoke was flooded with instant pleasure as Annie gripped his arms, keeping him close to her. He lifted her legs, pushing them back as he went deeper into her, wanting to relay every word his mouth failed to speak. She was his. Forever and always. No amount of time or space would ever change that. Annie felt consumed with raw pleasure only Smoke could summon within her. The feel of his dick stretching her was the most beautiful mixture of pleasure and pain and she accepted him. As flawed and tormented as he was, she accepted him.

The End.

Thank you for reading!

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akjonthebeat · 19 days ago

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Ties That Bind: A Modern Smoke x Annie Fic

Ties That Bind || Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie (modern au)

This is Part 3 of the Savor Series.

Rating: E for Erotic.

Warnings: NSFW, Fluff, Smut, and Explicit Language. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 8k+

Summary: With their relationship thriving and their businesses booming, Smoke and Annie are ready to take the next big step—homeownership. As they embark on the search for their dream home, Annie starts to notice something different. Smoke, usually the picture of cool confidence, seems tense—distracted even. Maybe it’s just the pressure of such a major decision... or maybe there’s something deeper stirring beneath the surface.

By the end of their search, it’s not just the countertops gleaming or the chandeliers catching the light. Something far more precious begins to shine.

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·· · ───── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

The spring breeze slipped through the cracked windows of the black Escalade, gliding over Annie’s skin like silk. The sun dipped behind dense tree branches as Smoke cruised through the quiet, picture perfect neighborhood of Ravenswood. Tucked on Chicago’s North Side, Ravenswood was known for its tree-lined streets, vintage charm, and architectural gems. It had a peacefulness to it that made Annie’s shoulders relax every time they passed a leafy park or saw a couple walking their dog.

It was their last house tour of the day, and after three days and ten viewings, they were both running on caffeine, hope, and playlist rotations. Still, there was a soft buzz in the air—of possibility, of change. After a year together, they’d made the decision to hunt for their dream home. It made sense. They were always between their apartments, with most nights ending in Annie curled up in Smoke’s bed, her satin bonnet on the pillow, and her toiletries gradually overtaking his bathroom counter. Half her wardrobe was already living in his closet.

They both loved their own spaces—it had helped keep their individual rhythms intact. But now? Now it was time to build something permanent.

Smoke, of course, made the whole process an event. Earlier in the week, he’d sent Annie out for a fresh set of nails and hair appointment, even slid her money for a shopping spree. Not that he didn’t spoil her regularly—he loved seeing her smile when she got surprise deposits for her maintenance days—but this time felt... different. His excitement was sweet, even a little overwhelming, but he insisted.

"This ain’t just any house," he’d said with that grin that always melted her. “Gotta look like a dream walkin’ into our dream.”

The house-hunting itself had been fun, if a little exhausting. They’d learned more about each other—how she adored bay windows and clawfoot tubs, while he was big on a chef’s kitchen and a full basement. He more so wanted the chef's kitchen for her. Some things they’d compromise on, others were non-negotiable. But none of the homes they’d toured so far had felt right. Close, but not the one. Smoke especially wasn’t one to settle.

Annie’s eyes wandered over to him. He was quiet—too quiet—and his fingers tapped anxiously against the steering wheel, out of rhythm with the mellow R&B humming through the speakers. His face was set in that deep concentration she knew well. She also recognized the tension in his jaw, the slight tremor in his fingers. His time in the army had left him with certain scars—ones that didn’t always show until moments like this.

But this wasn’t PTSD, not entirely.

This was something else.

She shifted in her seat and reached over, her hand finding the back of his neck. Her thumb moved in slow circles behind his ear, soothing, familiar. “Baby,” she said softly, her Louisiana drawl wrapping around the words, “you okay? We can always save this one for another day. This week’s been a lot.”

He glanced at her, and the corners of his mouth lifted. Not a full smile, but enough to quiet her concern a little. He pulled her hand from his neck and kissed the back of it, then held it in his, thumb stroking the soft skin between her knuckles.

“I’m fine, baby doll,” he murmured, voice low and gravelly. “I just—” He paused, weighing his next words. “I just feel like this could be the one. I found it online a while back and haven’t been able to get it outta my head since. But I wanted you to see all your picks first. I just hope you love it as much as I do.”

Annie smiled warmly, leaning over the console to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sure I will. If it’s got you this twisted up, it must be somethin’ special.”

He smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His fingers tightened around hers.

“Honestly,” he said, “as soon as I saw it, I thought... Damn, this got Annie written all over it. That’s how I want home to feel.” He turned to look at her fully, his gaze tender as he stopped at a red light. “Like you.”

Her heart did that slow, deep flip it always did when he said something that felt like poetry but landed like truth.

She squeezed his hand and whispered optimistically, “Then let’s go see home.”

A few minutes later, Smoke eased the truck to a smooth stop in front of the last house on their list. Annie blinked at the sight before her, momentarily stunned.

The home stood proudly behind a sleek black wrought-iron fence, its manicured hedges and vibrant landscaping looking like something out of a design magazine. Its soft, creamy white paint contrasted beautifully against the bold, black-trimmed windows and the matte charcoal metal roof. Twin gables gave the front elevation a charming yet modern edge, while the wide front porch, lit by three hanging lanterns, felt warm and inviting.

Everything about the house whispered elegance and peace… and something else too. Stability. Legacy.

Annie’s voice was hushed. “Wow…”

Smoke put the car in park and looked over at her, gauging her reaction. “You like it?”

Her hand reached for the door handle, but she paused and looked at him. “Like it? It's so cute! I can see you out on the porch now smokin' a cigar.”

Smoke chuckled, his dimples deepening as he glanced toward the porch. “And I can see you bossin’ me around from the kitchen window, tellin’ me to put that thing out.”

Annie laughed, her eyes still glued to the house. “Only if you’re blowin’ smoke in the hydrangeas.”

He leaned over and kissed her temple. “Fair enough.”

Smoke got out, rounded the front, and opened Annie’s door for her. “Come on, gorgeous,” he said, offering his hand.

Annie smiled and took it, letting him help her out of the SUV. The spring breeze played with the hem of her white sundress as she straightened up and looked toward the house again.

They walked together toward the front gate, the soft thump of the car door shutting behind them. The breeze carried the scent of freshly turned soil and faint traces of honeysuckle from the yard next door. Annie smoothed her dress again and tucked a curl behind her ear. Her kinky coils sat pretty on top of her head in a half-up, half-down style.

Smoke reached for her hand as they walked the stone pathway, lined with perfectly trimmed shrubs, low purple blooms, and a "For Sale" sign staked proudly in the yard.

“Did you notice the address?” he murmured.

Annie’s eyes shifted to the plaque mounted beside the front door: 4465.

Her brows lifted. “What about it?”

He smiled. “My mom’s birthday. April 4th, 1965.”

Annie blinked. Her lips parted, then closed again as she looked back at the house. “Elijah…” she breathed, her voice softer than the wind weaving through the trees.

“I told you,” Smoke said, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, “it just felt right.”

Annie swallowed the lump in her throat. “Hear you loud and clear, Mama Moore,” she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. Then she looked up at him with a lifted brow. “Still a skeptic?” she asked, referring to her spiritual hoodoo practices and the consistent guidance of their ancestors. He didn't practice it, wasn't exactly a believer, but he respected her beliefs.

He smirked at her. “You know I have a hard time believin' in things I can't see, baby. But... I see you and I believe in ya and whateva you be doin' at that altar,” he said and winked before leading her up the stairs to the front door.

Annie’s heart warmed at his words. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach in anticipation as he knocked on the door.

Soon the door opened revealing a petite brunette, with a bubbly smile dressed business casual. “Hi, I'm Amber the realtor,” she said sweetly, hand out to shake Smoke's hand. “You must be the Moores, it's nice to meet you.”

Smoke shook her hand and returned the pleasantry, then Annie. Annie smiled, enjoying the sound of “the Moores.”

Amber welcomed them inside and informed them they could look around freely.

“If you have any questions or need anything, just let me know,” she said as she stepped back into the staged office to the right of the entryway.

They returned a thank you and began looking around.

On the opposite side of the hallway was a formal dining room with wainscoting wall panels, a coffered ceiling, and a long walnut table set for eight. Annie ran her fingers over the velvet dining chairs, imagining Sunday dinners and holiday laughter echoing off the walls.

Further inside, they stepped into the kitchen—and Annie stopped in her tracks.

“Smoke…” she whispered, eyes wide.

Soft oak cabinetry framed by gold hardware lined the walls. The marble-topped island was massive, surrounded by elegant upholstered stools with gold bases. Enough space to prepare food for their family and friends. Above it, three globe pendant lights hung from the ceiling like jewelry, casting a warm, golden glow.

“Damn,” Smoke murmured, genuinely impressed. “This is you all day.”

Annie nodded, taking it all in—the built-in double ovens, the walk-in pantry, the custom range hood with gold detailing, and the glimmering backsplash. A vase of fresh tulips sat on a golden tray in the middle of the island.

She smiled. “I’d never leave this kitchen.”

“Bet,” he said, eyeing her with a teasing smile. “Guess I’ll have to make you dinner from time to time to lure you out.”

They continued exploring, their footsteps tapping on the wide-plank hardwood floors. The living room was warm and sophisticated, featuring more coffered wood ceilings that made Annie stop and tilt her head up in awe.

“I love this,” she whispered.

The space was anchored by a stone fireplace and tall windows that bathed the room in natural light. Everything felt intentional, down to the textured area rug and plush sectional.

They wandered through a few bedrooms on the first and second floor, each uniquely staged with soft linens and thoughtful décor. Smoke peeked into one of the bathrooms, all six of which featured sleek tile, spacious vanities, and rainfall showers.

“They weren’t playin’,” he said.

The master bedroom was pure luxury. A tray ceiling added dimension to the room, while a large bay window let in gentle light. Annie stepped inside and exhaled with wonder. The king-sized bed, draped in layers of plush white and cream, faced a fireplace and wall-mounted flat-screen.

Smoke opened a nearby door that revealed the en suite bathroom, and they both stepped inside.

“My goodness,” Annie said under her breath.

A gleaming clawfoot tub sat beneath a chandelier, backed by a marble accent wall. There was a massive glass walk-in shower, and on either side of the room, double vanities stretched beneath wide, lighted mirrors. His and her walk-in closets flanked the bathroom’s entrance, each large enough to be a room of its own.

“Pictures really didn't do this justice,” Smoke muttered, clearly impressed.

“I can already see my candles lining that tub,” Annie said, spinning slowly.

Smoke grinned. “And me knockin’ on the door askin’ if ya drowned yet.”

They laughed and she pushed at his chest playfully, the warmth between them growing deeper as they left the master suite and headed down to the basement.

Downstairs, the basement was fully finished—complete with a home theater setup, game room space, gym, bathroom, and the remainder of the seven bedrooms. A bar stood in the corner, its stonework matching the fireplace upstairs, and a wine fridge was tucked beneath the counter.

Annie leaned against the wall, arms crossed as she looked around. “It really has everything.”

Smoke stood beside her, hands in his pockets. “And then some.”

Annie turned to him with a sigh, her heart felt full. “I love it. Nothing’s come close to this.”

He smiled, deep and slow. “Me too. What do you say you take another look around and then meet me in the backyard? That’s really gonna seal the deal.”

Annie nodded, still swept up in it all. “Alright,” she said, watching him head toward the rear of the house while she wandered back through the first floor.

Somehow, they’d missed the laundry room earlier—tucked just past the kitchen and across from a small powder room. It was spacious and bright, with a window that let in natural light. Clean white cabinets lined the walls, paired with soft grey quartz countertops. A double washer and dryer sat side-by-side beneath the counter, and a deep utility sink rested near the corner. There was more than enough storage for every cleaning supply she could think of, and even space for a built-in folding station. Annie grinned. It felt like the kind of room you didn’t mind spending time in.

Satisfied, she moved back through the house, soaking in every last detail before stepping through the sliding glass doors that opened from the living room onto the covered back patio. The space felt like a private retreat perfect for events and entertaining.

A paneled dark wood ceiling stretched above her with recessed lighting and a sleek ceiling fan spinning lazily. To her left, an outdoor kitchen complete with a built-in grill, stainless steel appliances, and whitewashed brick gave the space a luxe yet cozy vibe. A long wooden dining table with cushioned bench seating stood ready for family meals or casual hangouts. To the right, a plush outdoor sofa and chairs with cream cushions and blue patterned throw pillows invited her to sink in and relax. The view overlooked a lush backyard framed by mature trees, and Annie could just picture warm nights out here with Smoke, wrapped in each other.

Her heels carefully tapped down the stairs to the tiled stone path, the soft clack of each step nearly lost in the hush of evening. The sun was setting, casting a sultry, golden glow across the backyard, painting everything in warm light and long shadows. “Smoke?” she called out, looking toward the matching three-car garage as she began walking in search of him.

“Over here, baby doll,” his voice called, low and steady, from behind her.

She turned, expecting to see him casually leaning against something, maybe smirking in that way he always did—but what she saw instead stole the breath from her lungs. An audible gasp left her lips. Her hands flew to her face, and before she could even think, tears were slipping down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “C’mere.”

She sniffled, trying to steady herself, her soft sobs catching in her throat. Her legs felt like lead, trembling with every slow step she took toward him.

Behind him stood a breathtaking heart formed entirely from white roses. In its center, a glowing white neon sign spelled out “It was always you” in elegant cursive, glowing softly against the light bricks of the patio. A lush aisle of dense white rose petals led to him, flanked on both sides by tall glass candles flickering gently in the breeze. And right in the middle of it all, Smoke knelt on one knee, a calm smile on his handsome face, a little black velvet box open in his left hand—holding everything she never knew she’d dreamed of.

Smoke looked like he stepped out of a fairytale, or maybe straight off the pages of a GQ cover—clean, confident, and completely hers.

His short-sleeved, cream knit button-up hugged the solid build of his chest and arms. The open collar giving a peek at the subtle glint of a simple gold chain. His navy blue slacks were perfectly tailored, hugging his frame without clinging, and falling effortlessly over polished black dress shoes. His chunky gold watch glinted on his wrist, catching the flicker of candlelight as he waited with quiet patience.

As soon as Annie reached him, he took her left hand in his, placing a kiss to it. Tears clouded her vision as she looked down at him, trying to hold it together, her breath catching in her throat.

He blew out a breath, trying to ease his nerves. "I've been holdin' onto this for months," he said, glancing at the box and giving it a small jiggle in his hand. "Thinkin' 'bout how I'd do this, but nothin' felt good enough... Then I came across this house and felt like it was the missing puzzle piece."

He sighed, his throat tight with emotion. His jaw clenched as he tried to hold back his own tears, the weight of the moment resting heavy in his chest.

Annie’s thumb gently stroked the back of his fingers, her touch grounding him.

Smoke cleared his throat and looked up at her. His voice cracked just slightly, raw and real. "If someone would've told me a year ago that I'd be here in this moment... I wouldn'tve believed 'em. Back in Clarksdale, word got around that you were up here, and I just hoped that maybe the opening of the lounge would lore you to me. But... clearly someone or somethin' had better plans..."

He let out a breathy chuckle, and Annie joined him, sniffing and smiling through her tears.

"And to be honest, I don't know what I did to deserve it."

"Elijah—"

He shook his head gently, cutting her off with quiet conviction. "Nah, baby. It's true. My biggest regret is leavin’ you. You deserved better than that... our baby deserved better than that." His voice faltered, thick with remorse. "I saw the world, did what they say men supposed to do, but it’s you that makes me better every damn day."

He looked up at her, his eyes shining. "There was this ache in me when you were gone. Like I was walkin’ around half-alive, tryna fill the space where you used to be. But now..." he paused again, getting choked up, his throat tightening as he pushed through the emotion, "Now I feel whole. So full I don’t even know what to do with myself some days. I’m grateful, Annie. Grateful I get to wake up everyday and love you. And bein’ loved by you? That’s just the cherry on top."

A soft smile played at her lips as tears rolled down her cheeks. He matched it with one of his own.

"We’ve been through hell and back," he continued. "And I can’t promise we won’t go through more. But what I can promise is that I’ll never leave your side again. I’ll protect you, support you, and love you in every way I know how. So..."

Smoke opened the small black velvet box, revealing a breathtaking oval-cut diamond ring. The center stone was massive, catching the last golden rays of the sun and scattering them in a dazzling array of light. It was set in a delicate platinum band made of tiny diamonds, each one sparkling like stardust. The ring was bold yet elegant, timeless yet modern and undeniably stunning—matching how he viewed her.

Annie gasped, her hand flying to her chest as her eyes welled up all over again.

"Annie Lisette Batiste, love of my life... will you marry me?"

Her smile stretched wide through her tears. She bit her bottom lip and nodded, laughter bubbling in her throat through her emotion.

Smoke chuckled, eyes never leaving hers. "That a yes?"

"Yes, baby," she breathed, her voice full of warmth and wonder.

He slipped the ring onto her finger, where it fit like it had been waiting its whole life for her. Rising to his feet, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her with everything he had. The world around them disappeared—nothing else existed but that moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Smoke rested his forehead against hers and murmured against her lips, "I hope that’s a yes to the house too... 'cause," he smirked, eyes gleaming, "I may have already put in the winning offer a few days ago to set all this up. Why you think Amber said "the Moore's"?"

Annie sucked her teeth and playfully rolled her eyes with a smile. "You somethin’ else, Elijah Moore."

His low laugh rumbled from his chest. "Aw, c’mon, woman. I saw it in your eyes the second we pulled up. You love this place."

She giggled, shaking her head as she wrapped her arms around him again. "Okay... yes. You lucky I love it almost as much as I love you."

They stayed like that for a long while, wrapped in each other beneath the fading light—safe, sound, and whole. Annie offered a silent thanks for every root, every whispered prayer that had kept them, and led them right back to this moment. Everything was finally falling into place—big... and small.

Back at Smoke’s apartment, Annie couldn’t stop admiring her ring—not through their shower together, not while applying her skincare, and definitely not while whipping up a quick meal of spaghetti to calm her nerves and feed their hunger. The massive oval diamond on her finger caught every glint of light, sparkling with every move she made. She kept catching herself turning her hand in different angles, just to watch it shimmer.

“Mmm, that smells good,” Smoke murmured as he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. His bare chest pressed against her back, and his chin rested comfortably on her shoulder. He looked down at the bubbling pot of savory sauce, then stole a glance at the soft curve of her cleavage peeking through the tie of her fluffy robe.

“Can I have a taste?” he asked in a low, teasing tone, giving her a playful pinch on the butt.

Annie squealed and picked up the small kitchen knife she’d just used to dice bell peppers, bringing it gently under his chin—not threatening, but just enough to warn him. “Boy, if you don’t find some patience and set the table…” she said with a mock scowl.

Smoke laughed, hands raised in surrender. “Put the knife up, woman. I’m goin’, I’m goin’.”

She snickered and turned her attention back to the noodles, giving them a final stir before turning off the stove. The soft clinking of plates and silverware echoed as Smoke set the table at the island. He slid two plates beside her, then reached into the wine cooler and pulled out a fresh bottle of Dom Pérignon, his grin wide.

“Now seems like as good a time as any to pop this,” he said, holding the bottle up like a trophy.

Annie’s eyes widened slightly when she saw the label, but she quickly masked it, responding with a light, “Mhm.”

Smoke tilted his head. “You okay? I thought you liked this one,” he said, already grabbing two flute glasses.

“I—I do, babe. You’re right. No need to save it, there’s a lot to celebrate, but…” she paused, then added softly, “can you hold off ‘til after dinner?”

His brows pulled together, clearly curious, but he didn’t press. “Uh… sure,” he said slowly, placing the bottle and glasses aside. Instead, he poured iced tea for them both—extra lemon wedges in hers, just how she liked it.

They sat and enjoyed the meal. Smoke’s satisfied moans had Annie giggling behind her fork.

“I can’t help it,” he said, already going for another bite. “You make the simplest things taste like a five-star meal.”

They talked between bites, going back and forth about who to break the engagement news to first—of course, Stack won that. They bounced around ideas for the house, what to keep, what to toss, and how they’d tackle packing. Once they were done, Smoke grabbed their empty plates and scraped the leftovers into containers. After loading the dishwasher, he stretched with a content sigh.

“That hit the spot, baby. Thank you,” he said, rubbing his stomach like a kid after Thanksgiving.

“You’re welcome, love,” Annie replied warmly.

“Champagne time!” he declared, reaching for the corkscrew again.

Annie’s stomach flipped. She shot up from her seat. “Hold that thought,” she muttered and quickly padded into his closet. Digging into her luggage tucked neatly in the corner, she retrieved a black gift box tied with a gold satin ribbon. She stared at it for a breath, heart pounding, before returning to the kitchen.

She set it down gently on the counter. “You’re not the only one full of surprises today.”

Smoke’s brows lifted. A grin stretched across his face. “Aren’t you cute? You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, but I couldn’t pass this up. Here, sit," she replied softly, patting the stool beside her.

He settled onto the cushioned stool, eyes twinkling with curiosity as he tugged the ribbon free. The box gave a soft creak as he lifted the lid, rustling through the tissue paper.

Then he froze.

His breath hitched as he slowly lifted a tiny white newborn onesie with the words “I Love My Daddy” in soft gray script and a heart beneath it. His hands trembled slightly as he picked up the two white sticks tucked beneath—both Clear Blue tests, both clearly reading: Pregnant.

His head dropped, shoulders shaking as he held back his sobs. Annie sniffled quietly beside him, unable to hold back her tears.

Smoke gathered himself enough to reach in and lift the last item: a small wooden picture frame. Inside, an ultrasound photo. A little black and white blob the shape of a peanut—tiny, but unmistakably a life.

“We’re havin’ a baby?” he asked, voice cracking, tearful eyes locking onto hers.

She nodded, tears spilling freely now. “Yeah,” she whispered.

He stood up without a word and wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close and kissing the side of her head. His hand rubbed slow circles on her back as she cried into his shoulder.

“Are you happy?” she asked, voice slightly muffled.

“Of course I’m happy,” he said, pulling back to wipe her tears gently with his thumbs. “I couldn’t ask for a better gift.”

“How far along?” he asked softly.

She sniffled and smiled. “About two months.”

He looked upward in thought, eyebrows raised, then smirked. “I knew I put it on you for Valentine’s Day.”

Annie burst into laughter, remembering the way he had definitely put it on her during their weekend getaway. Smoke chuckled too, then leaned in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“I love you, Mrs. Batiste-Moore,” he murmured against her lips.

She beamed. “I love you too, Mr. Moore.”

“And…” he said with a grin, crouching down to gently part her robe. He pressed a tender kiss to her belly. “Papa loves you too, lil’ one. No champagne for Mommy anytime soon,” he teased, looking up at her with a wink.

Her heart melted at his affection. All her nerves were put to rest.

“When’s the next doctor’s appointment?” Smoke asked, pulling Annie gently between his legs as he settled back on the stool. His hands rested on her hips, thumbs brushing slow circles over her robe.

“Middle of next month,” she replied, running her fingers over his head and lightly rubbing his ears. “Once I’m done with the first trimester.”

“Good,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’m not missin’ a single one.” He turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her open palm, holding it there for a beat like it anchored him. “I don’t know how I didn’t catch on. It was easier to tell before.”

She let out a soft laugh, tucking a curl behind her ear. “I don’t have mornin' sickness this time, knock on wood.” She leaned down and tapped her knuckles against the wooden cabinet below the island. “Plus, I'm only showin' a lil' bit. I only got suspicious 'cause my cycle didn’t come, and then… I had a dream about fish.”

Smoke’s brow arched. “A dream? About fish?”

She giggled and nodded. “Yeah. They can be a spiritual sign—pregnancy, abundance, new beginnings…” Her gaze drifted to the side as she remembered. “I was deep in the ocean. Water so clear and blue it didn’t even look real—it was beautiful. Peaceful. Then out of nowhere, this school of fish swam up all around me. Bright colors, all different shapes and sizes. They weren’t scared, and neither was I. I felt... calm. Like they were protecting me.”

Smoke watched her, totally entranced.

“They swam with me no matter where I went,” she continued softly. “Even when I made it to shallow water near the shore, they stayed. Just hovered like they were waiting. Then I came out of the water and… Mama was there. On the shore.”

He blinked, eyes locked onto hers. “Like you told me before. With Zariah?”

Annie nodded slowly. “Exactly. Mama was holding her. Zariah was cooing, laughin'… she always looks so happy. We didn’t say a word. Just stood there, smiling at each other. I could hear the waves behind me, soft and steady. It was… peaceful. That kind of peace you feel deep in your soul.” Her voice grew quiet. “They’ve come to me like that before, Mama and Zariah. But the fish… that was new. That was her way of confirming what I already knew.”

Smoke exhaled through his nose, lips curled in a small, wistful smile. “I wish I could see her,” he said quietly, his hands still resting on her hips.

Annie leaned down and kissed his forehead, lingering there for a moment. “One day you will,” she whispered. “A long, long, long ass time from now. We’ve got things to do down here.”

He chuckled, and so did she.

“Speakin’ of things to do…” he murmured with a teasing glint in his eyes. His hands slid slowly up her sides, then dipped to her waist, pulling her just a little closer. He leaned forward, pressing warm kisses along her exposed cleavage.

Annie hummed, her fingers caressing the back of his head.

“How about we work off dinner?” he offered, voice thick with suggestion and affection.

Her only response was a mischievous smile and the way she leaned down to kiss him—slow, deep, and full of promise—told him everything he needed to know.

She moaned softly as their tongues danced, gliding in a slow, teasing rhythm. Smoke’s hand cradled the side of her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. Her fingers brushed along his jaw before she leaned in and lightly traced the seam of his lips with her tongue, then pulled back with a playful smirk.

“Leave it to you to turn a wholesome moment into somethin’ freaky,” she whispered against his mouth, her breath warm, her eyes shining.

His deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Somethin’ ’bout bein’ engaged and knowin’ we made a mini us got me feelin’ extra… primal. Sue me.”

Annie laughed, soft and sweet, and laced her fingers with his. “C'mon,” she said, tugging him gently toward the bedroom. He followed without hesitation, flicking off the kitchen lights as they passed.

“I don’t know if I can keep callin’ you daddy once the baby’s here,” she teased as they reached the foot of the bed, turning to face him with an arched brow.

He sucked his teeth and yanked her flush against him, hands gripping her waist like he was claiming her all over again. “Oh, you will, but with a little more respect in your tone,” he smirked, leaning in to nip at her bottom lip. “Matter fact, after what I’m 'bout to do to you, you might start sayin it in capital letters everywhere we go.”

Her core clenched at the authority in his voice, heat blooming low in her belly. Her eyes flicked from his full lips to those pretty brown eyes—darkening now, like storm clouds rolling in just before the downpour.

"I’d love to see you try," she murmured, a teasing lilt in her voice.

She could’ve sworn she heard a low rumble rise from his chest, more growl than laugh. It vibrated through the short space between them, curling around her spine and making her breath hitch. The air between them thickened with want, and his gaze dropped to her mouth like he was already imagining it moaning his name.

“’Cause you know I always deliver,” he murmured before pulling her back into another heated kiss, deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world. His lips were firm, hungry, and she melted into it with a soft moan, powder pink nails lightly scratching his scalp.

With practiced ease, he untied her robe and slid it off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. Her hands were already at his waist, pushing his sweats down eagerly until his thick, hard length sprang free. He stepped out of them, not missing a beat, and immediately dipped his head to trail kisses down her neck—finding that sensitive spot just under her jaw and sucking gently. She whimpered, thighs pressing together instinctively to soothe the ache pulsing between her legs.

Then his mouth was on her right nipple, tongue swirling slowly before he sucked it deep into the warmth of his mouth. Her head dropped back with a breathless moan as he pinched and rolled the other between his fingers, teasing both peaks until they stiffened under his touch.

“Baby, please…” she purred, writhing as he switched to her other breast, mouth wet and warm.

“Please what, mamas?” he mumbled into her skin, the scruff of his beard grazing her soft flesh, sending a new wave of goosebumps across her chest.

“Please, fuck me,” she whimpered, voice desperate and thick with need.

Smoke chuckled low in his throat, his lips now pressing loving kisses along her belly. “Oh, I will... right after I eat my pussy. Now,” he added, giving her ass a firm smack, “get on all fours like I like it.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Climbing onto the bed, she positioned herself just how he wanted—arched and ready. He took a pillow from the head of the bed and slid it underneath her belly for support, mindful of her comfort now more than ever.

She felt the warmth of his breath against her soaked folds and whimpered in anticipation, her body already trembling. He knelt behind her, thick arms wrapping around her thighs from underneath to pull her closer. She swore her heart skipped as he inhaled her scent—slow, deep, possessive.

Then came the tease—his tongue gliding over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, kissing and licking everything but her center. She rocked her hips instinctively, craving contact, every nerve alive.

“Mine,” he whispered, the word more like a vow than a claim, and then his mouth sealed over her pussy.

Annie gasped sharply, the heat and wetness of his mouth sending her reeling. He licked her slow at first, deliberately, tongue moving like he had nowhere else to be. His tongue flicked side to side against her swollen clit before he sucked it gently, then firmly, setting her nerves on fire. Her back bowed beautifully, and he rewarded the arch with another smack to her ass, this one more playful. His strong hands palmed the weight of her cheeks, spreading her open so he could devour her better.

The sound of her moans—raw, open, unfiltered—filled the room. So did the wet, messy sounds of his mouth as he tasted her, worshipped her. His tongue slid down to her entrance and began to thrust, long and deep, mimicking what he knew she needed. She rocked back against his face in response, fucking herself on his tongue.

“Mmm. That’s it, baby. Fuck my face,” he growled between licks, voice hoarse with desire.

“Oooh, Elijah…” she purred, her body trembling as her orgasm crept up with no warning. Her walls clenched tight around his tongue and her clit throbbed against the friction of his chin. His tongue, long and thick, curled just right—rubbing and coaxing the orgasm from her body like it belonged to him.

Her thighs shook, and she cried out his name again and again as she came, surrendering fully to the pleasure. Her body pulsed around the emptiness, and he didn’t stop—he drank her in, tongue lapping every drop, the sounds of his mouth slick and unashamed in the quiet of the room.

“Mm… sweet ass pussy,” he mumbled with satisfaction, tongue still teasing her slit as her body trembled from the aftershocks.

She whimpered, her body hypersensitive, trying to crawl away from his relentless mouth.

He chuckled softly, finally giving her a moment to breathe, and kissed the backs of her thighs with a tenderness that had her heart clenching. Each kiss was like a thank you, a worship, a promise.

“You good, baby?” he asked softly, rubbing his hands down the backs of her legs, grounding her.

Annie let out a long breath and nodded, voice barely above a whisper. “So damn good.”

He hummed with a satisfied smile, rising to his knees as he pressed soft kisses up the curve of her back. She shivered beneath the affection, then slowly gathered her strength, straightening up on her legs. With a lazy, seductive grace, she reached back, her fingers curling behind his neck to pull him in for a deep, messy kiss—tongues tangling, lips slick with need. She moaned softly at the taste of herself on his tongue.

When she finally pulled away, her voice dropped into something velvety and commanding. “Lay down.”

Smoke nipped at her bottom lip in response, a crooked smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, ma’am,” he rasped playfully, and settled back into the bed, reclining against the headboard with one arm tucked behind his head. He looked utterly edible—lids low, chest rising with anticipation, dick hard and glistening in the moonlight.

Annie crawled between his legs, her hips swaying as she moved with deliberate intent. Her eyes locked on his girthy, pretty, brown length. Precum shimmered at the fat tip, catching the silver glow from the window. Her mouth watered, her breath hitching.

She wrapped her hand around him, marveling again at the weight and heat of him, and began stroking him slow and tight while never breaking eye contact. His brows drew together, lips parting with a grunt as his hips subtly rocked into her grip.

She leaned in and let a string of spit drip from her tongue, watching it glisten as it slid over the swollen head. Then, without hesitation, she took him into her warm mouth, slowly sucking him inch by inch until her lips kissed his base.

“Gahdamn… mmm,” Smoke groaned, head lolling to the side as he watched her work. His expression melted into bliss and awe.

Annie moaned around him, the vibrations sending a shiver down his spine. Her hand worked in rhythm with her mouth—wrist twisting as she stroked while her lips slid up and down his shaft. She pressed her tongue along the underside, tracing the throbbing vein.

Smoke reached forward, gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail, angling her just right so he could see everything. “Fuck,” he hissed as she moaned again and popped him out of her mouth with a soft wet pop! Her tongue trailed down to his heavy balls, and she gently sucked one into her mouth, careful, slow, savoring him.

“Fuuuck, Annie…” His voice cracked, thighs tensing beneath her palms, abs tightening with every flick of her tongue. She could feel the telltale signs—his body betraying him with every twitch and quiver.

Then, just as his release hovered close, she stopped.

She released him from her mouth and hand, sitting back slightly. His thick length bobbed against his thigh, flushed and needy.

His eyes flew open in disbelief, damn near a panic. “Woman, are you crazy?!”

Annie giggled, licking her lips as she rubbed slow circles on his thighs to soothe him from the brink. Her grin was deliciously wicked. “Only for you,” she purred, loving the way his chest rose and fell, how his fists clenched at his sides like he didn’t know whether to beg or curse.

She could see it—how close he’d been. That made her feel powerful. Intimate. Like she knew every muscle, every nerve ending in his body by name.

“You’re dangerous,” Smoke growled, trying to catch his breath.

She kissed his inner thigh, then up over the ridges of his abs, along his chest, and up the column of his neck. When she reached his ear, she nibbled it gently before whispering, voice syrup-sweet and full of mischief. “Betta call on the ancestors now, ‘cause I’m not done wreckin’ you just yet.”

He looked at her like he wanted to ruin her—in the most loving, filthy, reverent way possible. And the look she gave him back? Just as hungry. Just as wild. His hands gripped her waist firmly, grounding them both in the heat of the moment as she straddled him. Her knees planted on either side of his hips, and she lifted slightly, one hand wrapping around the base of his thick shaft to guide him to her soaked entrance.

A gasp slipped from both of their lips as she slowly sank down onto him, inch by inch. Her hands braced on his shoulders, fingers digging in for leverage as her walls stretched and fluttered around his girth. The warmth of her pussy enveloped him like a velvet vice, clenching greedily as he filled her completely.

"Fuck…" Smoke growled, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he held back from thrusting up into her. He needed her to take her time—wanted to feel every second of her wrapping around him.

Annie adjusted, rolling her hips slightly before beginning to lift and drop slowly, savoring the stretch and slide of him inside her. The steady rhythm sent chills up both their spines, and Smoke let out a low grunt, his fingers digging into her waist. Her pussy gripped him so perfectly it almost hurt—in the best way. Pregnancy had made her impossibly wetter, more sensitive, and the feel of her now was nearly enough to unravel him.

Her head tilted back as her lashes fluttered closed, soft pants escaping her lips as she rode him slow and deep. That gave Smoke the perfect view—and the perfect moment. One of his hands slid up her torso, wrapping gently around her throat the way he knew she loved. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watched her melt beneath his touch.

Annie moaned, grinding her hips in slow, teasing circles. “Ssoooh… you feel so good, daddy,” she hissed, her voice cracked with pleasure.

Smoke leaned forward slightly and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking slow and deep. Her entire body trembled. She bounced harder on his dick, her movements gaining speed and purpose as she plunged him deeper and deeper inside her. Her moans were soft, rhythmic, breathy, and perfect—music to his ears.

“Yesss... ride your dick, baby. Just like that,” he moaned against her chest, flicking his tongue over her other nipple, then tugging gently with his teeth. The way her body squeezed around him had him dizzy.

As many times as they’d made love, this felt brand new—like the first time all over again. Electric. Intoxicating. Their bodies spoke a language only they could understand. Every connection felt spiritual, every climax like worship.

Smoke let her ride until she was quivering again, then pulled her down by the neck and kissed her hard—hungry, open-mouthed, breath-stealing passion. She leaned into it, and that’s when he planted his feet into the mattress and started thrusting up into her—each stroke hard and deep. Her pussy creamed around him, sweet, messy, and addictive.

“Oh, fuck!” she squealed into his mouth, her hands clawing at the upholstered headboard for something to hold onto as he pounded her from beneath. Her walls clenched like a vice around him, juices trickling down to his balls.

Smoke cupped her ass with both hands, pushing her down to meet his thrusts, the pressure building fast. He could feel her right on the edge.

Then, without warning, he slowed. Just the tip, teasing, nudging her opening but never fully plunging back in. Her whine was instant.

“Daddy, please,” she breathed, trying to grind down to get more of him.

“You gonna make a mess for me, huh?” he asked, voice thick with heat, eyes locked on her.

She nodded fast, eyes wide and glassy with a pout that damn near undid him. That sweet face, so ready to fall apart for him—it had him teetering right on the brink.

With a grunt, he slammed back into her, his thrusts hitting deep and just right, angled to find that sweet, sensitive spot. Over. And over. Again.

“Right there… oh my god, right there,” she chanted like a prayer, body trembling as the orgasm coiled tight and fast inside her.

He didn’t let up. His eyes stayed trained on her, like watching her unravel was his only purpose in life. “Cum on your dick, baby doll,” he groaned, his own release rushing fast behind the command.

Annie shattered with a cry, her pussy spasming violently around him, drawing every drop from him as he spilled deep inside her. They clung to each other, mouths fusing in a desperate, sloppy kiss—moans and whimpers exchanged like oxygen.

They stayed like that, trembling and tangled, riding the wave of their shared high until their breathing slowed and their pulses came back to earth.

After tender kisses, the kind that lingered like a promise, they each slipped away to relieve themselves and returned for a quick cleanup—gentle touches, quiet smiles, and sleepy laughs echoing in the low light of the bedroom. When they finally slid back beneath the covers, the night felt sacred.

Annie curled onto her side, her body still warm and humming from everything they shared. Smoke tucked himself behind her, his bare chest pressed against her back, and wrapped an arm tightly around her waist like she might slip away if he didn’t hold her close.

“Goodnight, pretty baby,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with tenderness as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

She smiled faintly, melting back into his embrace and soaking in the warmth of his skin against hers. “Goodnight, my love,” she murmured, her words delicate and laced with sleep as her lashes fluttered shut. It didn’t take long for her breathing to even out, and in moments she slipped beneath the surface of consciousness.

She found herself standing once again in clear blue waters, waist-deep, the sunlight glimmering like diamonds on the ripples. The same familiar school of colorful fish surrounded her, their shimmering bodies dancing around her ankles, leading her forward, guiding her like gentle soldiers.

As she moved toward the shore, the ocean turning to soft, warm sand beneath her feet, she saw them—her mother, standing with Zariah nestled lovingly in her arms. They both shimmered with an ethereal glow, their auras golden and soft like morning light.

Tears welled in Annie’s eyes as she stepped closer. This time, her mother didn’t just smile—she walked toward her. When she reached Annie, she gently transferred Zariah into her arms, the baby’s coos and warmth making her breath hitch. Annie looked down at her daughter, so vibrant and real. Chubby cheeks, dimples, curious eyes, the tiniest fingers curling around her mother’s.

Tears slid down Annie’s face, mirrored by her mother’s, but there was joy there too. Love. Healing. She looked up again just in time to see her mother walking toward a forest of palm trees in the distance, a towering weeping willow standing guard at the center.

“Mama… wait!” Annie called, her voice trembling.

Before fading into the grove, her mother turned back one last time. She smiled… and winked. Annie's eyes fell back to her daughter who's eyes were still focused on her.

“Zariah…” Annie whispered aloud in her sleep, her lips parting with emotion.

Smoke’s brows pinched slightly when he heard her. He hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet—he’d been lying there, quietly admiring her breathing, her warmth pressed to his chest like a comfort he’d never take for granted.

He lifted himself on an elbow, eyes scanning her face. Her features were peaceful, her lips twitching into a soft, unconscious smile. Behind her closed lids, her eyes moved rapidly—clearly dreaming. But to Smoke, it felt like something more.

He pulled the covers down slowly, reverently, revealing the soft swell of her belly under the moonlight. He leaned in and placed a kiss just beneath her navel, lingering there like he was whispering a prayer.

“Is that you, princess?” he murmured, voice breaking slightly as he caressed the curve of her abdomen with his calloused, trembling hand. “Zariah... baby girl…”

Tears rimmed his eyes, threatening to fall as he pressed his forehead against her skin. He searched the space with his heart more than his eyes, like the love and memory of their daughter could somehow speak through the silence.

“Come back to me,” he whispered, placing one more tender kiss before pulling the cover gently back over her sleeping form.

He climbed back up, resettling beside her, still blinking away tears. But Annie instinctively turned, her face nuzzling into his chest, her arm slipping around his waist. Even in slumber, she found him. She always did.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, fingers brushing through her hair as he held her close.

“I’m right here,” he whispered into the dark, unsure if he meant it for her, their daughter, or maybe both.

Then finally, as her breathing soothed him and her warmth anchored him, Smoke closed his eyes and let himself drift, heart full, soul aching—but not alone.

To be continued....

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Big Papa put a ring on it and gave her a house all in the same day. Period! My babies are having a baby too! 🥹 Y'all excited? I hit you with a double whammy. lol Did you think any of this was happening in this part? Did I catch you slipping? Let me know your thoughts in the comments. xoxo

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