#ANNIE MY LOVE WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

[floccusmarimo]

Yes, levihan, adore it, very nice, lovely even... but... rivetra... 😭

[melodyofmbaku]

Mind Your Manners (Smoke Moore x Annie/Reader)

First line was was actually inspired by a line in this fic by @szatears, please check it out :)

Preview: “I done told you to watch that mouth ain’t I?” He snapped before undoing his belt and stalking towards you."

Word Count: 2.25k

Warning ⚠️: Strong Sexual Themes + Smut (18+ Material)

A/N I watched Sinners yesterday and pumped this fic out today. I'm back in my writing era 🤠💁🏾‍♀️ ___

If there was one thing Smoke didn’t like, it was an attitude. Whether he deserved it or not. 

So when the man who had skipped town 4 years ago appeared on your door step you knew he’d have something to say about you kissing your teeth, huffing and rolling your eyes. 

“What are you doing here Smoke?"

He took a drag out of his cigarette.

 “Now that ain’t no way to greet a man Annie.”

Your eyes slid over him. He was covered in a tailored tweed 5 piece suit and his bulk couldn’t be hidden. Thick arms, a broad chest and a wicked smile with golds peaking out. 

Smoke Moore. Nothing better. 

You took him in. 

“Ain’t you gonna let me in?” He grinned and leaned on your door frame. 

You squinted your eyes at him. Thoughts of that night at the Juke years ago surfaced. Your breath caught in your throat. 

“You ain’t never needed me to do that before.”

He sucked another mouthful of smoke from his cigarette. And blew it towards you. Your eyes watered a bit and you glared, gripping the doorframe tighter. 

“Maybe I need you to now.” There was a beat. 

“You don’t need an invitation. You just come and go as you please. I’ve given up on trying to keep you away. It’s a waste of time.”

He smirked something fierce. 

“Yeah you right. I was just fucking with ya.”

He flicked the cigarette into the grass and pushed past Annie, not without placing his paws on her body to maneuver her out of the way. 

One hand grabbed her waist, the other palmed her heavy breast before squeezing past her and into her quaint home. 

Smoke had it made for her. For them. 

One of the last things he did for her before he skipped town. 

——

He’d picked her up from her rotten daddies house and told her to pack a bag. He strapped her into that car and drove them over to the tiny plot of land he’d procured. And there it sat, a little home. 2 bedrooms and a “kitchen meant for cooking” as he called it. 

He held her as her eyes watered and whispered. 

“You like it baby girl? It’s yours. You ain’t never gotta worry bout a place to lay your head again.”

And there they spent the next 2 days holed up and christening the house. Even the kitchen meant for cooking. 

_____

Smokes eyes took the place in. The small house he’d bought, you’d made it into a home. You brought in an ice chest and had decorated it, your personality showed in every corner. 

He smelled bacon on the stove and the nostalgia hit him like a brick. 

“You making greens?”

“What’s it to you?” You replied with your back turned towards him. 

He loved your greens.

You didn’t know what to do with him back in your space. You felt activated. Didn't know whether to run to him or away from him.

You took a deep breath and composed yourself. And turned around only to see him fishing for a cigarette. 

“Don’t you smoke that shit in here.” You snapped. 

He looked at you and paused before nodding and sliding the pack back into his jacket pocket. 

He lifted his hands up. 

“You’re right sweet girl. My bad. I know you don’t like that in the house.”

“Thank you.” You whispered to yourself. Feeling relief at the inch of control you had gained back. 

He knew you thought it was a nasty habit and if he wanted to smoke, he’d have to do it outside your home. 

Say what you wanted to say about Smoke, he knew how important this space — your home — was to you. And you didn’t want anyone to ruin it. Even the man who built it for you. 

“Why are you here?” You asked. 

“We’re back now. I’m back now. For good.”

You scoffed.

“What you had all your fun? Running around Chicago with your brother? Fucking all them northern whores?” You sneered. 

His eyes watched you. You hated how they could see right through you. You weren’t jealous. You were hurt. 

His eyes glowered. “Watch your mouth.”

How could he just give you the best few days of your life and just leave without a trace? Leaving you to hear news about him and his brother through the grape vine. 

How dare he tell you what to do?

“Or what?” You snapped back. This was 4 years of pain. Of hurt. Of anger. 

“What, you tired of them? Wanted to swing back on down and fuck your southern whore too? Taste the mother fucking rainbow?”

“You not no whore Annie.” He warned again. 

Your eyes shimmered with angry tears. 

“How you know I wasn't up and down these streets? You not the only one who likes to fuck.”  You snapped back. 

He smirked a knowing smile on his lips. 

“You wasn’t fucking these niggas. You forget that I know you. You wouldn’t let em get a chance.” 

And you hated him because it was true. 

“Fuck you Smoke.” You spat. You could almost see the vein pop from his temple. 

Smoke didn’t like an attitude. Whether he deserved it or not. 

“I done told you to watch that mouth ain’t I?” He snapped before undoing his belt and stalking towards you. 

You backed up against the wall. Fiery defiant eyes staring back at him. 

He bullied his way into the space between your plush thighs. Sticking his face into your neck and breathing deeply. He kissed you.  Once. Twice. 

“Why are you back?” You whispered brokenly. 

He ignored your question and worked quickly to push your dress over your thick hips. 

“You weren’t ever this rude before Annie.” He mused while manipulating your body to be exactly where he wanted it to be. He knew your body like the back of his hand. You was his and nobody else’s. 

That was law. 

His fingers found your sex and you couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips. 

Smokes fingers stroked between your folds before sliding into her. The wetness soaked his fingers immediately. 

He kept his eyes on your face. He loved the faces you made. And right now your head was thrown back and your plump lips parted slightly. 

Quickly the sound of the small home was filling with deep breathing and whimpers. 

“Why? Are you back?” You managed to breathe out between moans. 

Was he here for good or was he just passing by? 

“I must not be doing a good job if you still asking me all these questions…” he mused. He added another finger for good measure. 

Unfortunately, that did shut you up. 

He took the other hand and palmed at your breast and tweaked a nipple and you groaned deeply. 

He smiled, nothing but pure joy on his face. 

“You ain’t have nobody here to tell you… to teach you your manners. That's why I came back.” He stated. 

He bent his fingers within you once before sliding out and replacing them with his tongue. 

He expertly licked into you. Letting your essence coat his lips. 

Smoke loved him some you. When he had his fill he stood up and captured your lips in his. 

You tasted yourself on him. 

He looked down at you. You were thoroughly debauched. “You ready for me?” 

You nodded lazily, you could barely think straight. Smoke liked you this way sometimes. Pliant and easy. He could move you any which way he wanted. 

He graciously turned you around and pressed you into the wall. 

“I’m gonna fuck you now princess. And you gon’ like it.”

“Yes daddy.” You whispered and that’s what drove Smoke to press himself right into you, and he felt you stretching to accommodate him. 

Now it was his time to groan. 

“Fuck.”  He spat out. 

You giggled. That didn’t last long as he pulled out slowly and thrust back in with intention. 

That giggle turn into a graphic sound he would file away for later. You were so responsive for him. 

There you began your dance. Smoke began a slow and intentional rhythm. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire time. 

Still your question persisted despite the pleasure filled fog which filled your head. 

“Why you back Smoke?” You managed to whisper. 

He grunted. You wasn’t letting this go. Could he blame you? 

He changed his pace, to something more punishing. Something that would make you forget you were angry with him at all. 

“Why? I needed to set you straight. That’s why. Remind you of how to act right.” He thrusted after each sentence. 

Your moans got louder with every thrust. But he kept his pace. 

“You got this attitude because I ain’t been here to fuck it outta you. And for that baby I was wrong.” He crooned into your ear. 

“It’s my fault.” He stated. 

He pumped into you relentlessly. And you took every thrust like a champ. 

“Blame me mama.” He whispered. It almost got quiet in the room.

The unspoken "not yourself" conveniently omitted from the end of his sentence. Just two bodies doing a dance as old as time. 

He reached over to grip your breasts again and pluck at your nipples. 

Your broken moans filled the space. He knew your body like no other. You were made for him. 

“That’s right.” He encouraged, he loved to hear you. 

“I’m back now baby. Daddy’s here and he’s gonna take such good care of you.” He breathed heavily into your ear. 

You were overcome with emotion. Your eyes watered. Was that a promise? You couldn’t do another broken promise. 

“Don’t you say that Elijah. Don't you dare lie to me. I can’t take it anymore.” You panted out. 

“You’ll take what I give you.” He snapped. 

Why was he like this? Why did you love this? 

Your head dropped low. Because he was right. You would take what he gave you. Even if it was lies or castles built up in the sky. 

You were a fool. And you loved him. 

He slid his hand into your hair, grasping your curls. 

You were Smoke’s to play with. To have, hold, fuck and scold. You didn’t pretend you didn’t know it.

“Chin up.” You tilted your chin up and his grip on your curls tightened. 

“Good girl.”

You moaned.  

He kissed your ear before speaking. 

“This time I ain’t lyin’.” He kissed your cheek. 

This was feeling good. You were barley listening. He could tell you he could sprout wings and fly right now and you’d believe him as long as he didn’t stop. 

“I’m back for good. I did what I needed to do out in Chicago. For you. For us. We don’t never gotta worry about money ever again.”

“It was never about the money.” You managed to gasp out. 

“Shhhhh.” He coaxed. 

That was another thing that came up in the past. Smoke was money motivated. He didn’t understand that you just wanted him.  Nothing else. 

He never wanted to be under the control of another man because of some money. So he went and got him some. 

“I think…" He pondered for a bit before continuing.

"I think I’m gonna fuck a few babies into you tonight Annie. Your body was made for it. For me.”

Your walls immediately clenched onto him. 

“Gonna have a bunch of em fat and happy running all around this place.”

Tears dripped from your eyes. The pleasure, the visuals, the stimulation. It was all too much. 

He didn’t stop. 

“You want that baby girl? Want daddy to put a couple babies in you?”  

You wailed. Short circuited even. 

Because Smoke knew. He knew that’s all you ever wanted. Him. And a family. And he wouldn’t tease you about that. 

“Yes! Yes! I want — “

“Yeah? You gonna have to say please mama. You how I feel about them manners.” He grinned wickedly. 

How he managed to stay aware enough to play you like this was beyond your comprehension. 

“Please!” You wailed out. 

“Please what?”

“Please make me a mama!”

His finger slipped to your clit quickly and he watched your face in wonder as your orgasm washed over you.  

You clutched onto him desperately to prevent yourself from falling. 

“That’s my girl.” he hissed.  Before thrusting and unloading his seed right into you. 

—

It’s been a few hours and you and Smoke were laid out in a blanket on a cot on the floor. 

Drunk on each other. 

He had fed you peaches from the jar right from his hands and had quelled any fears you’d had about him leaving you again, from in between your legs. 

“If it’s a girl we gon' name her Amiyah. After my mama.” You whispered into his chest. 

He kissed your head. “Whatever you want.”  

“And if it’s a boy I wanna name him Erik Stevens.”

He furrowed his brow. 

“Erik Stevens? Where you get that name from?”

“I don’t know I just like it. You don’t like it?” You asked, looked up at him. 

He scoffed. “That sounds like the name of a bandit.”  

You pinched his skin between your fingers. “Hey.” You frowned. 

He looked down at your big brown eyes and melted. 

“You really like that name?” 

You nodded. 

“Aight, I can be convinced.” He brought you closer to him and you both just sat in silence basking in your love.

He scoffed again. “Erik Stevens…”

“What is your problem?” You asked perplexed. Fingers stroking his chest. 

“I don’t like it. He sound like a boy who ain’t go no manners.” 

“Oh brother.”  ___

I so enjoyed writing this. I hope yall enjoy!!

Taglist

@sarcastic-sunshines @chaneajoyyy

[dollzstrology]

⋆.ೃ࿔ 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍’ ᝰ Smoke stops by your shop, coming to check on you and the baby. After he’s with you for a while you realize he’s here for more than a welfare check, he interested in what’s between your thighs.

𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮… Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore

𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻… Explicit; smut + fluff, porn w/ plot, fem!reader, spiritual!reader [hoodoo], envisioned as black!reader while writing, half-canon & half non-canon, very similar to Annie x Smoke dynamic, established relationship [married couple], mom!reader & dad!smoke, pregnancy [second trimester], pregnancy sex, oral [fem!receiving], p in v, dirty talk. 1930’s time period. southern/country dialect used.

𝑫𝑼𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵… 3.5k words

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑹… This is my first ‘Sinners’ fic and I’m soooo excited to be posting it! I’m already obsessed with Micheal B. Jordan but this movie made me love him 1,000 times more! All my Smoke lovers lmk how you like this fic! As always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑲��… Sinners M.List ・Sinners Taglist ・Main M.list

It’s a slow day at the shop, the perfect time for you to catch up with creating some batches of fresh herbal teas and home remedies for your customers when they come by. You have your radio humming low in the corner, keeping you company as you sing along and work, grinding some dried yarrow in your mortar and pestle.

You’re about to reach for the peppermint to add into the blend when a quiet shift in the air makes your skin prickle. You feel a presence come behind you before it can even make its way into your line of sight.

Your hand slips to the straight razor beside your tray and you spin around, steel flashing in the light, holding it right under their chin. “Elijah…” you say slowly, drawing out the vowels as if you’re warning him. “How many times I done told you ‘bout sneakin’ up on me while I’m workin’?”

“Put that blade up, woman, ‘fore you nick me.” Smoke replies with his gold tooth gleaming in the sunlight, unfazed by the weapon at his throat, knowing you would never actually harm him, plus it’s not the first time you’ve had a razor blade to his neck. “I jus’ came to love on you a lil’ bit.”

You stare at him a second longer, eyes narrowed, then you huff through your nose and lower the blade onto the table. You set it down with a little clatter and let him gather you up in his arms. His hands cradle your small belly bump, lips pressing gently against yours. “You always sneakin’ around. One day I’ma really cut your ass.” You mumble in between kisses while still embracing his love, spewing out out a threat you know will just end up being empty.

“And you still gon' love me, jus’ like I love you with that fire in yo’ mouth.” He replies, referring to your slick tongue and the feistiness within you that’s always making an appearance. Before you know it he’s kissing you slow and tender, like he don't plan on leaving anytime soon.

You lean into it, breathing in his scent: woodsmoke, Irish beer, and gunpowder. You rest your hand on his chest, right over his heart, giving him one last kiss before pulling back. “What you doin’ here in the middle of the day? Thought you and Stack was gettin’ the juke ready for tonight.”

“We are. I just… wanted to check on you. And the baby.”

“We alright.” You say with a smile, loving how he’s become even more attentive since you told him you were in the family way. “She movin’ more lately. Likes when I sing to her in the mornin’.”

“She? You still holdin’ onto that?” Despite you having all the hoodoo abilities to tap into the spiritual and supernatural realm, your husband swears he knows the gender of the baby. “I’m tellin’ you, it’s a boy. Gon’ be just like his old man.”

“Lord, I pray that ain’t true.” You tease, laughing while walking over to where your candles are, grabbing a match and lighting the wick. Having to deal with Smoke and Stack everyday, trying to keep them safe, and make sure they stay out of trouble is enough to worry about, you can’t imagine having to deal with that times three.

While your husband watches you light a candle, his eyes wander to all the things surrounding you; herbs, mojo bags prepped like the one he has around his neck, and other things you use as a hoodoo practitioner, makes a frown appear on his lips. “I don’t like you doin’ all this magic shit while you carryin’. You don’t know what kinda spirits you callin’.”

Smoke’s never been able to grasp the in and outs of hoodoo, he’s never been the type of man to believe in things like that but it doesn’t stop him from supporting you and taking your word on everything because he believes in you. He’s always been fine with it and never interfered with your work but now that you’re carrying his child he’s concerned.

“I been doin’ this since before you even knew my name.” you calmly reply, understanding his point of view but wanting to reassure him everything is fine and the baby isn’t in harm's way. “I was born into this. My momma did it carryin’ me, and her momma ‘fore her. You know I don’t call nothin’ dark in here.”

“I know. But still, it makes me nervous.” He finds his way behind you again, wrapping his arms around your mid section, resting his chin in the crook of your neck. “You my whole heart and this lil’ baby too. I don’t want nun bad happenin’ to y’all.”

You lean into his embrace, letting his warmth wash over you like a river. You close your eyes a moment, feeling a sense of peace settle in your bones from his presence. “I’ll be alright. We both will.” You place your hand over his, gently rubbing your thumb against his skin. “I promise.”

Smoke turns you in his arms, kissing you deeper than he did earlier, this interaction feeling more fueled by lust than love. You feel the pull of him, the same pull that causes you to gravitate towards him when his body is calling for you.

Things with Smoke are always easy, you and him have the type of chemistry where certain things don’t have to be explained, like you and him don’t have to discuss how he yearns for you, how just you touching him makes him feel like he’s about to crumble. You’ve always been his safe place so when he comes to you needing comfort, to blow off steam, or some sweet lovin’, you’re always happily ready to provide.

Without breaking the kiss he takes off his jacket, throwing it somewhere on the floor before gently lifting you onto your work table, sweeping some of your jars to the side so they won’t get damaged. Your hands are already at the buttons of his shirt, and his mouth trails down your throat, his tongue swirling over the place where your pulse beats strong.

The ceiling fan above spins lazy circles above the two of you but it doesn’t cut down on the Mississippi heat or the fire burning between you and him. Smoke’s palms slide up your thighs, rough and warm, pushing your flowly dress up bunch by bunch ‘til he’s gets you exposed, your panties already damp from the way he's been touching you.

“You wet f’me already, mama?” he hums low, his thick fingers pressing against the wet cotton, a smug expression comes across his face that’s filled with pride. You bite your lip, nodding as he hooks his fingers in the waistband and pulls them down your legs, letting them fall to your ankles before taking them off.

“Always wet for you, ‘lijah,” you whisper, voice breathy and thick with need for what lies beneath his waist. “You know that.” He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, the only person on Earth who’s allowed to say his birth name, the only one who says it so sweetly it makes him want to hear it again and again.

He drops to his knees, kissing the inside of your thighs like he’s praying at an altar. The farther he moves up your body, slowly making his way to your sweet sweet center, you can feel your heart pounding with anticipation. Once he’s done teasing, his mouth meets your core, warm and wet, tongue parting your slit nice and slow, allowing your delicious taste to settle on his tongue before he starts to really ravish you.

You gasp when the warmth from his mouth comes in contact with your pussy, trying to control yourself before shoving his head deeper between your legs. His tongue gives your folds the most attention in the beginning, repeatedly moving up and down, giving you a nice warm up before he turns things up a notch.

Smoke’s starts giving your clit some love, the tip of his tongue gently grazing over it before applying pressure, causing your hips buck instantly and him to groan into your heat, making you moan from the vibrations. The more he eats your pussy, smearing your slick across his face, and him angling his mouth and sucking your clit so well it feels like your spirit is levitating, edges you closer and closer to releasing all over his face. “Mhm! Smoke, right there!”

If you could see the look on this man’s face there would definitely be a smirk across his lips, hearing those words from you, spoken in that needy tone you use when he’s hitting all those right spots, makes his dick rock solid. Of course with him being a gentleman ‘n all, his first priority is making sure his wife is taking care of, so he’s gonna make sure you get one off before he does… but not without making you work for it first.

Your fingers thread through his coarse hair, hips rolling up into his face to create more friction and help you chase your high faster. The moans that fall from your lips aren’t as soft as they were earlier. They’re raw, hungry, each one more whiny than the next. You can feel that pressure in your stomach beginning to build up and when you feel his fingers protruding the entrance of your pussy, you already know you’ll be cumming in a couple minutes or less.

When that feeling starts growing stronger and intense, about to take over your body and allow you that sweet release, Smoke pulls back making you glare at him as if he has two heads. “I know you ain’t gonna jus’—”

Smoke give you the smallest smirk as he stands up, licking your juices off his lips, already knowing how you’re about to finish that sentence. “I ain’t, baby. I jus’ wanna feel you wrapped ‘round me when I make you cum.” He undoes his belt, slow and deliberate, his predatory gaze looking at your body. You watch as he frees himself from his slacks, thick and undeniably hard, the sight alone making your mouth fill with saliva, wanting him to just fill you up already.

He helps you get off the table, lifting you by your waist and gently placing you on the ground. Once your feet hit the wooden floor he’s barking out orders. “Turn ‘round and put them hands on the table.” You obey without question, leaning forward and angling your ass in the air.

Once you're in position Smoke comes up behind you, pushing your dress up until it’s past your hips, giving him a full view of your ass that he’s practically obsessed with. He takes a moment to take in the sight in front of him, your pretty ass on display, your juices slowly dripping down your thighs, and your hole clenching around nothing, begging to be stuffed.

Your husband bites his lip, his dick twitching against his thigh in anticipation of what’s to come once he wrapped around your velvety walls. He gives himself a few strokes before gliding his dick across your folds, allowing your slick to gather on his tip and mix with his precum, using the fluids as a lubricant. He grounds himself in his stance and places himself at your entrance, slowly pressing himself inside you, stretching you wide open with his girth.

When he enters your wetness, a groan slips through his bared teeth, his hands wrapping around your full hips as he lowers his eyes and watches his dick begin to disappear into your heat. Even though you’ve had sex with Smoke a million times, every time he fucks you it somehow feels the first time. A sound flies out your mouth, something that’s a mixture of moan and cry when you feel him stretching you out every time he pushes another inch of himself inside you.

You’re not in pain, it’s just the delicious burn that comes with being with a man that’s well endowed. Your hands begin to grip the end of the table, needing to balance the pressure you’re feeling in your lower region. “I got you, baby. Jus’ relax.” Smoke whispers while placing a few soft kisses on your back, reassuring that he has everything under control.

Feeling his lips press against your skin makes you clench around him, so tight that he lets out sharp breath, trying to keep himself from busting on the spot. He's not even fully inside you yet and he’s already teetering on the edge of having his own orgasm. He allows both of your bodies to adjust, for both of you to become one flesh, slowly nudging his dick further and further into your pussy until he bottoms out.

After a few moments his pelvis is flush with your ass and he just holds there, waiting until you’re ready. Once you relax and he feels your body loosen up, he takes that as a green light to continue and start applying some real pressure. He slowly slides out, pulling out almost halfway before rolling his hips and pressing back into you, beginning a series of long strokes into your pussy.

Your mouth flies open, moans filling your small shop as Smoke thrusts into you with no plan on stopping anytime soon. He angles himself slightly upward, giving himself the perfect position to continually hit your g-spot until you cum around him. At this point you and him are both dripping in sweat, droplets traveling down your face and towards the spillage of your breasts and his trickling down his chest and torso.

You decide to not let your husband have all the fun and start throwing it back against him, meeting him in the middle of each thrust, creating an echo of your skin slapping together. Smoke groans, loving the sound of your skin colliding each time he pushes himself deeper inside you. “Pussy feels so good, baby. Makes me wanna get yo' ass pregnant all over again.” He mutters before throwing his head back.

Ever since you’ve become pregnant Smoke swears your pussy has become even better, which he didn’t think was possible. He doesn’t know if it’s because you’re more sensitive now, that you’ve been able to become so wet to the point he sometimes slips out, or your body is just preparing for the baby but either way he loves it.

“You talkin’ like I ain’t already carryin’ your baby.” you manage to pant between moans, lips curling up into a soft grin. “Lemme get this baby out first before we talk about another one.”

Smoke chuckles low, a sound that doesn’t come from him too often but when he’s around you it easily emerges. “Can’t help it.” he murmurs, breath hot on your skin. “You so damn good to me. Make me wanna keep you knocked up, full a’me all the time.”

He punctuates his words with a deep roll of his hips, hitting that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyes. Your fingers curl around the edge of the table, knuckles white as you brace yourself against the slow, deliberate strokes that are unraveling you, thread by aching thread.

The scent of yarrow, rose, and the musk of your joined bodies hangs heavy in the air, brewing in the humid Mississippi heat. You feel like a woman possessed, bent and spread in the middle of your sacred space, lost in the kind of pleasure that only Smoke can provide.

It doesn’t take long before Smoke starts going harder and faster, his thrusts becoming relentless as tears of pleasure stream down your face. His pelvis slams against your backside with every stroke, the table rocking from your tight grip and his rough movements, causing a few jars of herbs to fall on the floor but you’re too fucked out to care. You cry out each time he hits the spot that makes your knees weak, your nails scratching at the wood while his balls slap against you.

“Say my name, baby.” he pants, giving your ass a nice hard love tap before his hand return to your hips. “Tell the whole Delta who fuckin’ you this good.”

Your breath catches, your body trembling with the raw fire he’s stroking inside you. You bite your lip, eyes squeezing shut as the waves of pleasure crash over you. “You fuckin’ me so good, Elijah.” Your voice trembling as the words spew out your mouth. “Can’t nobody fuck me like you can.”

He growls your name back, deep and full of hunger, sends a shiver straight down your spine. His hands dig into your hips harder, pulling you flush against him, every thrust driving deeper, more urgent. “You my woman.” he snarls low, voice rough like thunder, his possessive ways making an appearance. “Ain’t no woman on this earth meant for me but you.”

His words break through all your control and with a cry, your body collapses against his, your muscles convulsing in waves as you fall apart, every nerve ending going up in flames, breathes coming in sharp gasps as you let go. His name spills from your lips again and again, one of Smoke’s many weaknesses when it comes to you.

Smoke grunts as he continues to thrust inside you, repeatedly brushing against your g-spot until you quiver tightly around him again, your walls rapidly pulsing around his shaft. Your orgasm rips through you and a loud whine fills the air, your legs beginning to shake and your balance falter, causing your husband to tighten his grip around you so you won’t collapse on the hard wooden floor.

Soon after you Smoke’s body succumbs to its own pleasures, his orgasm washing over him as he releases his hot seed deep inside your walls, the thick sticky fluid reaching the depths of your womb, his body shuddering until his high levels out.

Smoke exhales a deep, satisfied groan as he gently pulls out of you, careful not to move too fast, not wanting to overstimulate you. Your body jerks slightly, a soft whimper slipping from your lips at the sudden emptiness. He leans down immediately, pressing a line of kisses along your spine like an apology, his strong hands gliding up your sides with a gentleness that replaces how rough he was just being.

“You okay, baby? I ain’t hurt you, did I?” he murmurs, voice low as always, but sweet, filled with a certain softness that only you are allowed to hear. He’s usually not rough with you, he hasn’t been since you’ve become pregnant but he’s been wound up, things with Club Juke and business deals, he needed this as an outlet for his issues but now that his brain fog has cleared he wants to make sure you’re alright because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ever hurt you.

You shake your head, resting your forehead against the table, lips parting with a small, breathless laugh, still trying to regulate your breathing. “You ain’t hurt me, ‘lijah. I’m doing good, real good.” you whisper, eyelids heavy, wanting to just go home and soak in the tub. “But I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk right for a while.”

He chuckles at that, one that’s filled with satisfaction of his previous actions, that he once again fucked you ‘till you can barely walk. “Lemme help you out then.” Smoke easing you up into his arms, bridal style, like you don’t weigh a thing and placing you into the chair in the corner of your shop. He grabs a clean towel from the hook near the window and dampens it with some fresh water before he starts cleaning you up, making sure he's as gentle as possible.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to the curve of your belly, whispering something low to the baby that makes you melt all over again. Smoke pulls up a stool and sits beside you, pulling you close until your head rests against his chest. “Think we scared off the spirits in here.” you mumble, giggling softly, knowing that your ancestors probably wouldn’t approve of you having relations on sacred ground.

Smoke chuckles at that, his hand stroking lazily over your thigh. “Well, they need to let grown folks do what they s’pose to do. Don’t need them watchin’ us no way.”

You hum softly, nuzzling closer, feeling his lips press against your temple and his hand making its way to your belly for the millionth time today, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your warm skin. “Gon’ be a good daddy to this baby.” he adds after a beat, his voice steady now, that rare, open affection in his tone. “Better than mine ever was.”

You lift your head just enough to meet his brown orbs, looking up at him with pure love in your eyes. “I know you will. You already are.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of the wind brushing against the shutters, the faint creak of the old ceiling fan above, and the gentle rhythm of your breathing syncing with his. “I love you, Elijah.”

“Love you too, mama. Always.”

𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 — @Yungblud423 @nostlicions @loveabledovee @secretisme4 @pinkkycherrish @bl3ssyn @shamansha @queenofklonnie22 @rios-st4rs @Secretlifeofpreshap @bxrbie1 @t-wylia @bendoverboo18 @milesf4vg1rl @secret89sblog @gabbysbl0gg

— all rights reserved ©𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐙𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost repost on other platforms (ex. AO3 or Wattpad) nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[visforvengeance]

Where you been, baby?

Requested by: no one :)

Notes: and here’s stack!!!! So this can be read as a standalone or apart of a series. It’s kind of similar to the one for smoke but not exactly. This WILL be posted on AO3. Enjoy!

Warnings: mmm not smut exactly. But not sfw either ya know what I’m sayin. Ok. I didn’t necessarily feel any way about Mary as a character. She was just there tbh. But all love to Hailee, I love her down. There’s just some Mary slander here lmao

Smoke x reader

You could hear the music outside of the mill as clear as day. There had been bodies hanging around. Some dancing, some drinking, some…better left unsaid. You made your way to the entrance. You didn’t even get the option of waiting in line before Cornbread saw you and ushered you right on inside.

It looked just how you’d imagined inside. Warm lighting, joyous faces. It ignited something in you. Recognition. Reminiscence. Nostalgia. It had been a long, quiet time while the twins were gone. And, maybe that was for the better. But you couldn’t say you didn’t miss it.

As you were walking to the bar, you managed to lock eyes with one twin. Your twin, Stack. He had Mary hanging off of his arm, and he was mid-puff when he saw you. Mary had been too wrapped up in herself to notice that Stack had suddenly stopped paying attention to her and focused on you instead.

Still, you walked on until you reached it. Taking a seat beside the pair, ignoring Stack’s stare. You warmly greeted Annie,

“How ya doin', Annie?”

She beamed at you, pulling you over the bar to squeeze you into a hug. All of you had grown up close together, but you and Stack grew closer. You were each other’s first everything. And, because of that, you thought that meant it’d stay that way. But, no, it didn’t. You caught Stack with Mary one night, and it had been a cycle of heartbreak ever since then.

Elias obviously loved you more than her, more than anything. But with that realization came fear. The twins were on a warpath. And, he couldn’t have you there for it. He wouldn’t. So, he left it all. He knew it would hurt you. Hell, it even hurt him, too. But, it was for the best after all. Right?

“Lemme get a shot of whiskey, please.”

Annie began serving up your shot when you heard Mary speak up beside you.

“Well, look what the cat done dragged in.”

Annie tried to diffuse the situation because she knew how both of you could be. But, Stack just watched, intrigued. Everyone knew you didn’t start problems, but you sure as hell could finish them. And, Mary was always a problem.

“Now, Annie, wasn’t I just here minding my business?”

“Don’t y’all bring that mess in here. This is a celebratory night. Take it outside if y’all gon fight.”

You really hadn’t planned to fight. You were even willing to let it slide if Mary would just shut the hell up. But she never did know her place.

“No, Ms. Annie, it ain’t gon be no fighting tonight. I just came to congratulate the twins, give them a little warm welcome back home,”

You looked over to Stack, who still had his eyes only on you. He looked damn good, you’ll give him that. But, nothing more. He didn’t deserve to know just how much you missed him. And how much his leaving had affected you.

“Welcome home, baby. We missed you.”

Elias didn’t miss the wink you threw at him, nor did Mary.

“Oh, bitch, who do you think you walking in here like that?”

So foul-mouthed, that one. Almost like she was trying to compensate for something? Who knows. However, Stack wasn’t going to tolerate her disrespecting you. No matter how much she thinks he’s over you, that was never really the case.

It was always you. Only you. Why he had to go and fuck that up? He never fucking knew. But it’s just you.

While he shoved her out of the juke joint, you made your way to the dancefloor. Sammie had been playing on stage, and the whiskey had hit you harder and faster than you thought it would. You could feel the bass in your bones as the ground shook from the stomping and music.

You were in your own little world until you felt a body slide up against yours so perfectly you melded together. His warmth was what got you first. Next, the feeling of his hands all over you. Years of missing how they felt against your soft skin.

Then his scent circled around you. He smelled like smoke, alcohol, and the earth. It made you dizzy. He turned you around so you were facing him. Still so close together that you were breathing each other in. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this feeling.

“I really was only coming to say hi and welcome, you know.”

He wasn’t listening as his lips were on your neck, kissing and sucking, desperately trying to eat and inhale you at the same time.

“You wasn’t even gonna tell me you was back here, huh?”

His hands gripped at the fat of your ass, pulling you into him. You could feel his erection against your stomach. Still kissing. Still sucking. Still trying to devour you piece by piece.

“Elias..”

He stopped, resting his head on your shoulder. Inhale. Exhale.

Softly, “I was scared to see ya.”

Stack didn’t usually talk about his feelings, at least not with anyone other than his brother or you. So, it was no surprise when you were met with the softer, more vulnerable side of him than usual. And, it’d been so long since he could really talk about his feelings. The ones he couldn’t share with his big brother.

“I was scared.”

“Which time? When you left or when you came back?”

“Both.”

That was the first time in a long time that he’d been honest with anyone other than himself.

Your hand caressed his cheek, like how you used to when he was laid up in your bed. You forced him to look at you; he’d been doing so all night, but now the ground floor was more interesting.

“What were you so afraid of, Elias?”

Man, he really didn’t want to answer that. That’s a whole new layer of vulnerability that he’d have to learn to break down. One that no one had seen, not even you.

“How was I gon keep you safe? I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you. So I left.”

You wanted to be mad at him. Be fucking angry like you should be. But, you just couldn’t.

“So, what about now? You gon leave me high and dry after tonight?”

He had just gotten back into your life, and neither of you wanted him out of it again. Stack knew you missed him more than you were willing to admit, and he’d get on his knees and beg for you to give him another chance if that’s what it took.

Maybe this new version of the two of you could work out better than before. But, what if you don’t? Were you willing to go through that heartbreak again? You refused to be someone’s second choice again. Not even for him.

“If we gon do this again, I need to know you ain’t gon leave me again.”

Elias would not make the same mistake twice, no matter what. He just got you back, and he’d do whatever it took to keep his baby right here with him.

“I ain’t going nowhere without you this time, girl.”

Your eyes lingered on his for a minute. Despite their usual hard exterior, the twins wore their emotions on their sleeves. It was never outright noticeable. But when Smoke was angry, there’d be a permanent scowl on his face. When Stack was sad, it was almost like he wasn’t connected with reality. Like he was detached.

What you saw on his face now was just truth. The man made promises, and he didn’t always keep them. But tonight, he’d decided that loving you how you should’ve been loved was something he’d do forever. Even on his last day on earth.

Your lips locked with each other, slow and passionate. There was curiosity, too. A bitter trace of sadness. But, a whole lotta want and need. Stack had decided from that moment on, regardless of what life threw at him, he was not going to suffer it through with you by his side.

[brownskincheyenne]

Honestly I am not a writer but was thinking about the paternal side of smoke when he taught the little girl about negotiating! It was an epic part of the film that I think shows so much of his character as a father figure.. so what if his baby girl would’ve lived. I think that scene showed parallels to if she would’ve lived, how he would have been in a way. Idk my first ever anything !

“ Papa!! Papa look what I got “ the young girl shrilled excitedly as she ran into the front yard. Smoke had turned to quickly see his baby girl barreling towards him. He snatched her up before she could run face front into his lower half.

“ whoa slow down baby girl, you nearly knocked papa off his feet” he said with a chuckle. “ awe papa nobody can knock YOU down, not even uncle stack!“ his little girls faced twisted in a sly grin that mirrored his twin as she looked at him & said “cept mama.” she beamed at her papa and he looked at her bashfully knowing she was telling the truth.

“ what’s got you so in a hurry ? “ he asked his beautiful little girl. She slowly opened her tiny hand to show him the nickel that lay upon it. Smoke raised his eyebrows and scrunched his face in mild confusion. Not that he didn’t know what a nickel was, but because he didn’t understand the cats meow about a nickel. He had always given his baby girl the world. She never knew what it felt like to wake up before God to go and pick cotton, she never had to feel the burn of the Mississippi sun beating down on her back and she didn’t have to feel the blood drip from her hands because of the hard dried pericarp of cotton. And as long as he lived and breathed she would never know that life, sharecropper was another word for slave, and she would never know the feeling of being either. She was down right spoiled, let her mama tell it. “ she’ont know the meaning of the word no when it comes to you Elijah” he could hear Annie telling him when he brought her home a new doll or teddy. This was his purpose though, when he found out Annie was pregnant it grounded him.

She and the baby stabilized him. He realized he could no longer be the man who cared about nothing except protecting his brother, he had to protect himself so he could be there to protect his wife & little one. He had decided he was done with robbing and scheming and the money he had saved up he opened a shop, a shop by day servicing the black folk of the community and a juke joint by night, giving freedom to hard day and week they put in. It was so successful stack even had to invest in the business. So it puzzled him because his baby girl had plenty of nickels in the jar her mama gave her as a piggy bank, what was so special about this one?

“You got a nickel from ya bank ?” Smoke asked his little girl. She shook her head and said “ no papa, I got it from cousin Sammie” “Sammie ?” Smoke question raising his right eyebrow, what Sammie give you a nickel for ? “

“ he tried to give me a wooden nickel, said he needed me to watch out for uncle Jed while he go walk a lady down the road.” Smokes brows raised high to meet the lining of his hair he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “ he wanted you to do what now ?” “ but I told him I’m not watchin less he give me a real nickel, then he said he give me two wooden nickels.” She raised her index and her middle fingers to emphasize the number two. Smoke stared in disbelief as his daughter recounted the story. “I said 1 nickel or I’m not watching for you. He aint want too but he gave me the nickel see papa” Alisha ( Ali for short) held the nickel in between her and her papa eyeing it with pride. He couldn’t help but smile a big wide grin. Both of their deep dimples showing while he held her as she looked at the nickel and he looked at her. His heart burst with love. Ever since she could talk, which was the age of 3 , he started teaching her the ways to negotiate and stand up for herself. He would always be there, but he knew he carried a lot of sins from his past and one day that might catch up. So he wanted to teach her everything he knew so she wouldn’t be vulnerable to the ways of man. Negotiating was the first lesson. Knowing your worth and what you have to offer. He beamed with pride as he kissed her little dimple and held her close and said “ that’s papas baby girl”

[cheftsunoda]

pls pls pls pls something with kimiiiiiiii

no distractions — ka12

smau + blurbs

kimi antonelli x !f1 academy driver + wolff reader

toto wolff x !daughter driver reader

kimi and yn have been in a relationship for the last few months…however, it has been a secret. but not for the reasons you’d think— it’s not a fear of a bad reaction from toto or what the press would think. toto has a serious ‘no distractions’ rules for both his youngest driver and his daughter during the racing reason. maybe a distraction is for the best in this world of chaos…

fc : annie schröter & various f1 academy ladies:)

not proofread

(a/n) many many requests for kimi:) also for my dear @angelluv16

—

yn_wolff

liked by susie_wolff, georgerussell63, lewishamilton & 2,907,057 others.

yn_wolff : george getting scolded by my father on FaceTime to ‘act like a senior driver’ was the best part of my week

—

georgerussell63 : can you plz tell him that i was joking

liked by yn_wolff

yn_wolff : you are 27 years old and you are the senior driver…you tell him

liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63 : i might be 27 years old but toto lectures still scare me

liked by yn_wolff

susie_wolff : So proud of you, my girl! 💪🏻❤️

liked by yn_wolff

yn_wolff : love you mommmyyyy

lewishamilton : Wish I could’ve been on that FT call 😁

liked by yn_wolff

yn_wolff : i don’t recall dad ever having to lecture you for that reason

liked by lewishamilton

georgerussell63 : listen im not used to this. its like being handed a baby as a first time mother

kimi.antonelli : mi scusi?? un bambino?? (excuse me?? a baby??)

liked by yn_wolff and lewishamilton

yn_wolff : oh way to go. you pissed off the italian. (and toto’s favorite) (and my favorite)

liked by kimi.antonelli

georgerussell63 : no toto told me he doesn’t have favorites

yn_wolff : toto lied

liked by lewishamilton

f1academy : Pretty girl! 😍

liked by yn_wolff

mercedesamgf1 : Mini Wolff has done such a good job being CEO and team principal while Boss man is away.

liked by yn_wolff and kimi.antonelli

yn_wolff : i know im rlly out here running ts

carmenmmundt : pleaseee tell me you have the video

liked by yn_wolff

yn_wolff : check your messages carms

liked by carmenmmundt

lando : send it to me plzzz🙏🏻

alexalbon : i NEED it

yn_wolff : ok I just sent it in a mass text to everybody

liked by alexalbon and lando

georgerussell63 : really guys

username00 : is she attempting a soft launch??

—

The motorhome was quiet, tucked away from the chaos of the paddock, and for once, so was my mind. Kimi lay stretched out on the couch, one arm slung around my shoulders, the other resting lazily across his chest. My legs were draped over his lap, a shared blanket tossed haphazardly over both of us. It was peaceful, the kind of rare stillness that only existed between back to back race weekends and overly complicated strategy meetings.

He was talking softly—something about feeling the pressure now that he’d taken Lewis’ seat. He never admitted it outright, but I could hear the weight in his voice. People weren’t just watching—they were expecting. Comparing. Waiting to see if he’d crack.

“You’re not him,” I said quietly, tracing patterns on his hoodie. “You’re not supposed to be. You’re you. That’s who Mercedes picked. That’s who I pick.”

He turned his head, just enough to meet my eyes, and gave me that rare, quiet smile—the one only I ever really got. His fingers brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and for a second, the world outside didn’t exist.

CLUNK.

The door burst open.

“Oi, have either of you seen—”

George stopped mid-sentence. His eyes landed on the blanket. The tangled limbs. Kimi. Me.

The realization hit fast.

“Oh my god.” His grin was immediate.

I bolted upright like I’d been electrocuted, Kimi jerking back so hard he almost knocked over the lamp.

“It’s not what it looks like!” I blurted, way too quickly.

“Really?” George raised a brow, smug. “Because it looks like Mercedes’ new golden boy is snuggling the F1 princess in a very distraction-like manner.”

Kimi groaned under his breath. I elbowed him gently, trying to look composed while my heart threatened to punch a hole in my chest.

George turned to leave, clearly savoring the moment. “Toto is going to love this.”

“GEORGE!” I was already off the couch, chasing after him, half-laughing, half-threatening. “If you say a word to my dad, I swear to God— I will pay someone to run you off the track!”

“Worth it!” he shouted over his shoulder, dodging out the door as I followed him with a throw pillow in hand and zero mercy.

Behind me, Kimi just sighed and muttered, “I’m definitely getting a lecture for this.”

—

George was already halfway down the paddock, power-walking like he was leading a cool down lap, phone in hand and a mission in his heart.

“GEORGE, I SWEAR—”

I was practically sprinting after him, trying not to trip over my own shoelaces or the leftover cables running along the motorhome row.

“You don’t have to do this! There’s still time to not be annoying!”

He glanced over his shoulder with the biggest grin on his face. “Too late! This is premium gossip, and Lewis deserves to hear it first.”

“GEORGE.”

He ignored me, of course. Because why wouldn’t he? He was already tapping his phone screen like a man possessed. I saw Lewis’ name pop up at the top of the screen and nearly screamed.

“Hi, mate,” George greeted, way too casually. “You’ll never guess what I just walked in on—”

I launched myself forward and slapped the phone out of his hand before he could say another word. It bounced onto a table outside the Mercedes hospitality unit.

“HEY!”

“Don’t ‘hey’ me! That’s my godfather! I’m not letting you tattle like you’re in Year 6 and just caught someone sneaking sweets before lunch!”

George was trying so hard not to laugh that he was nearly choking. “I’m just saying, it’s objectively hilarious. Like, you and Kimi? Caught in the motorhome? By me? Come on—Lewis will LOVE this.”

I pointed a finger at him, out of breath and deeply unamused. “You say one word to him and I will personally leak your sim data from Silverstone last year.”

George paused.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Just then, Lewis himself strolled out of hospitality, holding a cup of tea and looking blissfully unaware.

George opened his mouth.

I stepped in front of him like a bodyguard. “Hi, Uncle Lewis! You look so peaceful today! Just glowing. Nothing interesting happening at all.”

He blinked at us, clearly suspicious.

“…Are you two okay?”

George coughed. “Totally. Nothing to report.”

I smiled way too hard. “Yep. No drama. Just vibes.”

Lewis squinted. “Right…”

As he walked away, I glared sideways at George. “You’re insufferable.”

He smirked. “And you’re in love. How cute.”

—

yn_wolff

liked by kimi.antonelli, carmenmmundt, susie_wolff & 3,087,552 others.

yn_wolff : 5 more days until the first break of the season. (can’t come fast enough) (i need it to survive)

tagged : kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63, carmenmmundt and susie_wolff

—

kimi.antonelli : pls pack me in your suitcase for break. im so tired

liked by yn_wolff and georgerussell63

yn_wolff : ordering a bigger suitcase rn

georgerussell63 : 🤭

kimi.antonelli : george cheated in the challenge btw

georgerussell63 : i did NOT

yn_wolff : i was sitting there the whole time. you most def did. @/f1 20 place grid penalty!!

liked by lando, alexalbon, kimi.antonelli and maxverstappen1

F1 : 📝📝

carmenmmundt : miss you already pretty girl

liked by yn_wolff

georgerussell63 : who does that hand belong to??

yn_wolff : your girlfriend

liked by carmenmmundt

georgerussell63 : is this just bully george day?

yn_wolff : that is every day

username05 : def a soft launch omg

lando : why do you look so chill and well rested while i look like ive been hit with 3 trains and a Ferrari strategy call?

liked by yn_wolff

yn_wolff : it’s the wolff genes

georgerussell63 : it’s because she is in loveeee

yn_wolff : @/alexalbon & @/carmenmmundt come get your menace please

alexalbon : george leave her alone before you lose your job

liked by yn_wolff

lewishamilton : You’ve been working hard kid— you deserve a break.

liked by yn_wolff

yn_wolff : so do you after dealing with Ferrari for half a season

liked by lewishamilton

—

kimi.antonelli

liked by yn_wolff, georgerussell63, olliebearman & 1,549,087 others.

kimi.antonelli : first week of break spent back home🇮🇹

—

yn_wolff : sorry I couldn’t fit you in my suitcase:( but it looks like you’re having a great time ❤️

liked by kimi.antonelli

kimi.antonelli : the best ❤️

olliebearman : 8/10 soft launch.

liked by kimi.antonelli

lando : this is no mystery. Ik exactly who that is. you are in trouble 😁

liked by kimi.antonelli

yn_wolff : god I hate you brits. not one of ya can keep your mouth shut

liked by lando and georgerussell63

olliebearman : excuse me??? i never said ANYTHING

yn_wolff : you are an exception

mercedesamgf1 : Enjoy your break Kimi!

liked by kimi.antonelli

—

yn_wolff

italy 📍

liked by kimi.antonelli, georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1 & 4,907,809 others.

yn_wolff : italy, ily

—

georgerussell63 : do you love Italy or the person in italy??

yn_wolff : this is me leaving you on read

username00 : omg it’s Kimi

username10 : insane power couple

mercedesamgf1 : this looks…familiar

carmenmmundt : so cute 🫶🏻

liked by yn_wolff

olliebearman : 9/10 soft launch

liked by yn_wolff

lando : you both make it so obvious

yn_wolff : focus on getting your own relationship before digging into mine norizz

lando : get mad at george not me — he told me

georgerussell63 : snitch

susie_wolff : So sweet❤️

—

There’s something different about Italy when you’re not just visiting — when you’re with someone who belongs to the place. Kimi knows every little side street, every beach that doesn’t show up on tourist maps. He points out the bakery where he used to sneak pastries with his cousins, like he’s handing me pieces of his childhood.

His hand never leaves my back as we walk through the market. I catch his mom smiling every time he touches me, like she’s already known I was going to be here long before we even did.

At dinner, I sit between him and his little sister, our legs tangled under the table while warm Italian voices buzz around us. Kimi leans in to whisper translations, but honestly, I don’t need them. His family’s laughter, the clink of glasses, the way his thumb keeps brushing over my knee — it all feels like home. I catch him watching me more than once with that soft little half-smile of his, like he’s still surprised I’m really here.

One evening, we sneak away on his family’s old scooter. I wrap my arms around his waist, bury my face in his back, and laugh into the wind. He reaches back to squeeze my hand whenever we hit a straight stretch, like he just needs to feel me there. We stop at a cliffside and watch the sun sink into the sea. Neither of us says anything for a while. He kisses my shoulder gently, and that says enough.

Later, his dad hands me a film camera and says, “You’re already one of us. Might as well help capture it.”

So I do.

Kimi laughing with his cousins, totally unguarded. His sister tucking wildflowers into my hair. Him and I barefoot on the sand, sneaking kisses behind his mom’s umbrella like teenagers.

—

Taking Maggie for ice cream was technically Kimi’s idea. But the second she looked up at me with those big brown eyes and asked if I wanted to come too, there was no way I was saying no.

We walked down the cobbled streets of the village, her skipping between us, one hand in mine and the other in Kimi’s. She told us all about how she once ate four scoops in one sitting like it was a world record. Kimi just groaned and said, “Yeah, and then threw up in my shoes.”

To which Maggie replied, completely unfazed, “Worth it.”

The gelateria was a tiny, pastel-colored spot that looked like it belonged in a postcard. Maggie pressed her face to the glass case, absolutely agonizing over her choice. Kimi already knew what he wanted — stracciatella, always — and when he looked at me, I just shrugged and said, “Whatever has the most chocolate in it.”

We ended up sitting on a little bench outside, Maggie in the middle with a double scoop of pistachio and raspberry that dripped down her wrist before she even took a bite. Kimi handed her a napkin, which she immediately ignored. I reached over to wipe her chin, and she just grinned at me with that gap-toothed, ice-cream-drunk look only kids can pull off.

Kimi leaned back, his arm draped behind me, watching the two of us like he was trying to memorize the moment. I caught him smiling when Maggie rested her sticky head on my shoulder.

“You’re good with her,” he said quietly, nudging my foot with his. “She really likes you.”

I smiled and stole a bite of his gelato. “She has good taste. Clearly runs in the family.”

He rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling.

Maggie, completely unaware of how soft we’d just gotten, suddenly asked, “Can I have another scoop if I say you guys are in love?”

Kimi nearly choked. I laughed so hard I almost dropped my cone.

We didn’t give her a second scoop. But we did let her pick the music for the walk back.

—

We came back sun-warmed and slightly sticky, Maggie’s cheeks dusted with sugar and her hands somehow still covered in melted gelato despite me wiping them down twice. Kimi held the door open for us, brushing a curl from my face as I walked past. I smiled at him without thinking — soft, easy, like second nature.

That was my mistake.

Because the moment I stepped inside, I saw them. My parents. Sitting at the garden table, clinking mimosa glasses with Kimi’s parents like this was some sort of diplomatic summit. There were pastries. Fresh flowers. An aura of parental chaos. Kimi froze behind me.

“Oh no,” I whispered, under my breath.

“Oh no,” he repeated, under his.

Mum spotted us first. She smiled—the smile. The one that said I know everything and I’m trying not to laugh about it in front of your father.

“Hi, darling,” she said sweetly, waving us over like this wasn’t a whole setup from the universe. “Did you two have fun?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Maggie beat me to it. “YN bought me ice cream and Kimi said she’s his gi—”

Kimi coughed. Loudly.

“—giggler,” she finished, completely unconvincingly. “Because she giggles a lot.”

I turned slowly to look at her. She gave me an innocent thumbs-up and started eating a croissant like she hadn’t just tried to blow up our entire lives in front of Toto Wolff.

Mum was vibrating with quiet laughter. Kimi’s mother looked like she wanted to say “finally.” His dad just nodded, like this confirmed a bet he’d made with himself months ago.

And Papa? Toto looked directly at Kimi. Then at me. Then at the not-insignificant way our hands were still touching.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Brunch?” he asked. Voice calm. Dangerous.

Kimi, to his credit, didn’t flinch. “Sounds great.”

I could practically feel mum’s delight from across the table.

As we sat down, she leaned in and whispered, “This’ll be fun.”

I sighed, reached for a piece of bread, and muttered, “Only if no one lets Maggie speak again.”

—

yn_wolff

miami 📍

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, kimi.antonelli & 4,098,790 others.

yn_wolff : miami— always a pleasure. (yay kimi! p1 quali)

—

yourbff : i love you and miami :)

liked by yn_wolff

yn_wolff : best time with you

carmenmmundt : you are the IT girl. so miami coded

liked by yn_wolff

kimi.antonelli : great weekend. great city. great girl.

liked by yn_wolff, lando, georgerussell63

lando : i know that’s kimi in the mirror pic don’t play with me

yn_wolff : what did i say

username22 : the ‘yay kimi’ caption like you’re not fully dating is actually comedy

liked by olliebearman

olliebearman : longest soft launch in my whole 20 years of living

liked by yn_wolff

—

f1gossipgirls

liked by georgerussell63, lando and 208,090 others.

f1gossipgirls : New paparazzi pics show what looks very much like Mercedes’ golden boy Kimi Antonelli kissing Y/N Wolff (yes, Toto’s daughter 👀) during their vacation on the Italian coast.

—

user has turned off comments.

—

My palms were sweating. Which, frankly, was ridiculous. I race cars at 200 km/h for a living. I’ve gone wheel to wheel with girls twice my size and once drove half a race with a loose visor screw. But this? Sitting across from my father with Kimi beside me, trying to casually bring up the fact that we’ve been secretly dating for months? Yeah. This was the most terrifying thing I’d done all year.

“So…” I started, playing with the hem of my sleeve. “There’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”

Toto looked up from his laptop, eyes flicking between us with the kind of calm that made me more nervous than if he’d been yelling.

Kimi, to his credit, didn’t flinch. “It’s about me and Y/N.”

My dad raised an eyebrow.

“We’re… together,” I said, heart pounding. “Like, dating. We have been for a while now. But we didn’t say anything because of the no distractions rule and—”

Toto held up a hand.

“I know,” he said simply.

I blinked. “You… what?”

“I’m not blind,” he said, with the faintest smirk. “He looks at you like you’re a trophy. Also, Susie told me.”

I whipped around. “She what?”

Toto ignored me, turning to Kimi instead. “You’re both winning races. Training hard. Staying out of drama. If this is a distraction, I want more of them.”

Kimi nodded, looking both respectful and vaguely relieved. “Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t call me ‘sir,’” Toto muttered. “You’ve hugged me three times this season, you’ve lost that right.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

“Just one rule,” he added, giving us that look. “No kissing in the garage. I’m still your father. And your team boss.”

“Deal,” I said quickly, while Kimi mumbled something that sounded like “understood.”

As we stood up to leave, Toto called after us.

“Oh, and Kimi?”

He turned.

“You break her heart, and I break your contract.”

Kimi went a little pale. I grinned the entire way out of the room.

—

kimi.antonelli

liked by yn_wolff, lando, olliebearman and 5,090,879 others.

kimi.antonelli : i missed the whole 'don't date the bosses daughter' memo

—

georgerussell63 : toto’s gonna frame this post and hang it in his office

liked by yn_wolff and kimi.antonelli

lando : you only got away with it bc he loves you. no one else could of pulled this off. i respect

liked by yn_wolff and kimi.antonelli

charles_leclerc : i want to be this brave one day

liked by yn_wolff and kimi.antonelli

susie_wolff : Happy to have you a part of the family, Kimi! So cute.

liked by yn_wolff and kimi.antonelli

lewishamilton : Well, if the father approves...I guess that means the godfather has to as well. Happy for you both!

liked by yn_wolff and kimi.antonelli

olliebearman : oh thank GOD. i was getting bored.

liked by yn_wolff and kimi.antonelli

carmenmmundt : my favesssss

liked by yn_wolff and kimi.antonelli

mercedesamgf1 : oh now this is ICONIC

liked by yn_wolff and kimi.antonelli

[wakandamama]

Mail Call! A Letter of Lust!

I FINALLY POSTING A SINNERS FIC 😎

While on downtime during their tour in WW1, Smoke receives a special letter and care package from his woman back home.

Part 2: Mail Call! Returned to Sender

“Mail call!” 

Smoke looks up from his game of solitaire to see his brother’s big grin as entered their unit’s tent. Stack struts in with a cheerful swagger to disrupt Smoke’s solitude. Stack plops the box into Smoke’s lap then whips out his pocket knife fancy spin and points it to a beige envelope thick with a long letter. The younger of the two raises an eyebrow in question, Smoke curling his hands into fists for a moment then lets them go, his pinkies are shaky so he nods. 

“And where you been?” Smoke asks as Stack rips his letter open for him and hands it to his brother.

“Letting this thick yella-bone outta Marseille teach my dick French. Shoulda know all them snails they be eating would make they mouths that talented.” Stack quips, wagging his tongue in triumph.

Smoke rolls his eyes and warns “Don’t get burned out there brother.” 

Smoke pulls out Annie’s letter from the envelope and watches with a rare smile as dried butterfly weed and lavender buds fall to his lap. He presses the letter to his nose and takes a deep smell of the plump colored lipstick mark at the top of the page, Smoke swears he can catch the whiff of black cherry Annie used in her lip stain. Smoke’s nose twitches in curiosity as a teal blue handkerchief flutters to his lap next, he quickly balls it into his hand and unfolds his two page letter.

“Aww shit, yo woman done sent you a bouquet." Stack teases, as he picks up some of the dried buds and sprinkles them over Smoke head.

 “What did Annie say? She send word about Mary and Mama Munroe? She send some of them cinnamon candies again?” Stack harasses while he squeezes behind Smoke on the cot. Smoke puffs one of the orange petals off his lip as he uses his head to block the words. Stack reaches around to Smoke’s lap to grab the box and receives a swift elbow to the gut that sends him yelping and rolling off back off cot to the floor. 

“Fuck you nigga!”

“Read yo’ own damn mail nigga!” Smoke scolds down at him. The older twin pointed a thumb to the small pile of little pink envelopes covered in smiley faces and kisses that Mary had sent Stack over the last 5 months.

“I’m tryna be nice and do ya favor bringin’ you ya mail, just to get assaulted in my own damn bunk!” Stack argues as he rolls up and pulls himself back to his feet.

“And thank ya… Now go be nosy somewhere else.” Smoke says, waving him off with his free hand. Stack kisses his teeth and makes a show of snatching all of Smoke’s playing cards, hustling out with a long laugh as Smoke cusses him out. 

Alone again, Smoke carefully scoops all the flower petals back into the envelope and settles it in the front pocket of his pack. He settles the handkerchief on his chest and finally stretches out on his back in the bed to read Annie’s neat and loopy handwriting.

To my dearest Elijah, 

My love, I’ve missed you terribly. 

Mary done found a new hobby with that little bit of cash Stack sent her last week. She bought a camera! I think you’ll like the gift she helped me make for you with it. It’s in the box. 

Before making her way back to Louisiana, my grandma was thorough in guiding me to make this latest batch of candy for you. It’s more of those orange and honey ones you like, but I did put a small bag of the cinnamon stuff in there for that fool Elias so he doesn't drive you too crazy. 

However, if we are talking about crazy, then we have to talk about just how badly I’ve craved you Elijah. 

Smoke shifts in his cot at the turn of tone in the letter. He lets his free hand drift to his waist band and rest right over the crotch. Just what in the world did his woman have to say? 

Sometimes I think I miss ya hands the most. How them strong fingers of yours could, play my pussy like a fuck’n’ piano. Finding just the right key to tune me up every single time. You make me louder than a cicada in the heat of the day with just two fingers in there Elijah, that ain’t sane. 

Or ya thick thumb in my mouth, putting the taste of my cunt on my tongue like lime after liquor. Can you still feel that slickness ya be draw outta me on yo’ hands Poppa? I’ve been trying to replicate just how yo do it, but it just ain’t right! Guess my fingers too short. Only you can reach in and fill me up how I need to be.  How you know I need to be filled.

Smoke lets out a low whistle at her statements, he shakes his head in disbelief at the picture painted. It aches him thinking about Annie laid out in her bed edging herself wet and whiny in thought of him. He needs to get home and fix that. 

Do you miss my hands too, baby? If ya do, just close yo’ eyes and ‘magine my hands back where they belong. You ‘member how I did it, right? I can’t just ever take it easy when it comes to handling that shaft of yours, I gotta get a whole handful of that beautiful thang before I can get started. I gotta feel the weight of you so that lusts fills my gut. Do ya miss when I’d trail up you, baby? Feel every vein on the column of you. How’d I point that dick up nice and high so I could take it down my throat?

I miss the feeling of you in my throat, Elijah. 

Tasting you is my ambrosia, Poppa. Do me a favor? Hold that dick for me, baby. Treat it nice, just how I would.

I know you miss this pussy. 

This pussy misses you, she’s still crying for you every night and it leaves me so achy Elijah. I wiped her up the best I could after just the memory of your lips on her with this scrap off my night slip. 

Can you smell me?

“Fuck” Smoke hisses between his teeth. He palms his dick through his cargos, it is tight and hard, becoming slick at the tip at Annie’s written words. Smoke bites his lip in and glances at the door of the tent before checking his watch.

Only 2 hours until curfew. He could get it in. 

Smoke presses the teal cloth to face, deeply inhaling and praying that the boat ride over didn’t deter the essence of Annie off it. Smoke groans, right there, a bit hidden by the dried florals is the musk of his woman. All bold and familiar, the scent of Annie’s pussy prompts Smoke to unzip and keep stroking. God he needs to get back home to her. 

I liked my hands on you Elijah. Up and down. Up and down. Slow and steady so I could feel your pulse between my thumbs while I kissed up and down that dick of yours. I loved swirling the tip wit’ my tongue so I can taste every little drop of you on my tastebuds before I let you down my throat. 

If I remember right? Ya like that little choke sound I’d make when ya dick would jump when I was coming back up. Right? You’re a fucking freak likin’ to choke your girl with that thickness. What if I spit Poppa? All that good nut leaking out my mouth before it can even get in me? Wasteful.

“Fuck, Ann.” Smoke groans lowly as he beats his dick just as Annie describes. Slow. Steady. Up. Down. Phantom touches of her soft hands make him jump. He remembers her pretty puffy lips swallowing all seven inches of him down the velvet of her throat in one swallow then how she would make it re-appear twitching, glistening with her spit. All done with only a whiny moan humming on his lap. Annie is magic like that. 

He pictures that woman running the tip of her heavy and heavenly tongue right along the veins of his dick. Then that fucking tease of his, swirls the tip, pop off it with a loud kiss just to swallow him down again.

“Annie.” Smoke moans again, forcing the collar of his shirt into his mouth to muffle his moans as just the thought of Annie’s command made him uncontrollable. The slick sounds of his actions become louder and quicker.

Elijah please be careful with that dick, that’s mine. You are mine and I need my things to come back to me in perfect condition. Because Poppa…I need you to fill my coozs up from every angle. On any surface. Only you can satisfy that ache between my legs, only you can make me ache so good. You got the only thang that can make this cunt all hot and puffy. I know you like that shit, some soft pussy to thrust into, lay into, have bounce on ya. 

You want this ass on you? I miss the smacks we’d make, I miss pushing all this weight against you and you putting it right back on me. You wanna get in me baby?

“Yesss.” Smoke moans out, half muffled as his head bobs back and he starts to thrust sloppily into his wet fist. He starts to crumble the cloth over his nose so he can breathe deep of her scent once more.

I moaned your name last night. Blessed it be I ain’t neighbors for a mile or they would know your whole government. Fuck being Smoke, fuck being Mr. Moore. They’d know Elijah. They’d know that this pussy is yours only, Poppa. They’d know I’m just some bitch in heat about you. Come home soon, so you can fill me up and I can have my body back. 

Love you, always.

Annie Greenwood

Smoke drags the cloth down and presses it firmly over his mouth to mute his shouting grunt as he comes hard into his hand and drawls. He pants in more and more of Annie’s essence as he comes down from the high of his nut. After a few breaths, he lets himself go boneless in ecstasy and actually breathes air. Smoke didn’t know kinda magic had to be done, but he needed her in a dream tonight. Requiring it for his own mental stability at this point, he has already spent 40 days in hell with 369th Infantry in this European war, can’t a good soldier atleast get a wet dream of his woman? 

Smoke can only catch his breath for another moment before hearing boots and hoots from the other making their way towards the barrack. 

“Damn.” he hisses and swiftly sits up and places a pillow in his lap. He pretends he didn’t just make a mess in his drawls over Annie’s written words, instead making his hands busy with opening the gift box. It’s a group of four soldiers who just greet Smoke but mind their own busy with getting ready for bed.

 Smoke opens the box and frowns at some black cord necklace, he recognizes that it was one of them mojo bags that Annie and her grandmother both wore. Annie had placed a slip of paper under it. 

“Put this on, so you and ya brother come back safely to me.”

That was all the instruction. It ain’t say nothing about a prayer or any kinda ritual. Just put this on because I said so. And for Smoke, that was enough, believing in Annie was always enough. 

Smoke chuckles softly, gives his shy grin and slips it on with a perfect fit. Annie was good at remembering the dimension of his neck after all, it was her favorite place to put her hands when she-

Smoke quickly shook off the thoughts before his dick got hard again and he’d have to try and sneak out for a cold shower with only 40 minutes to spare for curfew. 

He settles the bag of orange honey drop into his pack, then tosses Stack’s cinnamon bullshit on his cot to the left of him. He finally gets to the bottom of the box and sees a photograph wrapped in tissue paper. He hums in intrigue as he unwraps it to find-

“You're a damn cheat Stack!”

“Learn to play dominos and then you can talk about cheating! You just made I took yo lil lunch money!” Stack banters back with one of the boys as they get ready to enter the tent. Just as they go in, Smoke is hustling out a change of lounge clothes and shower kit pressed to his crotch, the white-back of a photograph pressed to his chest and a look of flustered determination across his face. Stack frowns and grabs Smoke’s arm to stop him. 

“Where the Hell you going?

“Shower.”

“But curfew is i-”

“I know when it is nigga! Worry boutcha self.” Smoke interrupts, shaking his brother’s hand off his arm. Smoke goes to march on but pauses long enough to make eye contact.

“Write Mary and tell her to throw that damn camera in a creek!”

[triplefrontierbabe]

Hiii! Can I have a 1.2.1 please ?

I’m Having His Baby… (Yes I Am)

summary: you ask Lando for a baby… pretty publicly

pairing: f! reader x Lando Norris

prompt: asking him for a baby x Lando Norris x smau

warnings: alternate universe, use of yn, mentions of pregnancy (please skip if you aren’t interested in the content matter)

a/n: part of my 600 follower celebration!! so sorry my loves that it took me forever to get this done 😫

600 followers celebration

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend1 and 399, 892 others

yourusername slopes: 9/10, eating snow: 10/10 🏂🎿🏔️

view 372 comments

yourbestfriend2 don’t eat the yellow snow!!!

↳ yourusername 🐕

heidiberger_ snow cutie

↳ yourusername my oh my do i miss you

lando no it’s fine, don’t give me pic creds

↳ yourusername pc: some rando on the slopes📸

↳ youbestfriend2 gagged 💀

↳ papayafan04 bye lmao I love her

paddockbabe21 the last pic omg 😭

lando

liked by quadrant, charles_leclerc and 1, 904, 290 others

lando ⛷️

view 2, 789 comments

maxfewtrell stick to racing 👍

mclaren eventful offseason 🌨️

yourusername would die for u

↳ yourusername ugh you’re so cute

↳ yourusername would have you kids any day of the year

↳ pietra.pilao babe 😭

↳ paddockprincess9 someone’s ovulating

motorsportslover1 wdc loading…?

lando

liked by lnfour, mclaren and 2, 223, 843 others

lando just for testing

view 3, 773 comments

mclbabe0481 here before yn

carlossainz55 🔥🔥

yourusername I’m actually very nonchalant about this

↳ yourbestfriend1 me when I lie

↳ yourbestfriend2 “but daddy I love him…”

↳ lando she already bombarded me w texts 🤣

olivernorris1 this is awesome bro 👊

alex_albon as the kids say, this ate

yourusername

liked by lilyzneimer, lilymhe and 674, 904 others

yourusername what if he’s written ‘mine’…

view 1, 002 comments

lando did me dirty with that angle

↳ yourusername shut up. ok but imagine if our kids had your side profile 🙂‍↕️

lilymhe no way you made him watch you get a tat😭

↳ yourusername bro grimaced the whole time like he was under the needle😭🙏

landonorizzzz4 omg the last pic

lando

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly and 3,239, 774 others

lando some fun down under 🇦🇺

view 3, 783 others

yourusername so in love with you

↳ ciscanorris1 just make me an aunt already plz

↳ flonorris1 I second this 🙋‍♀️

olivernorris1 so proud of you!!

mclaren our guy🙌🧡

landoluvr444 the quarter zip 🥵

formulaonefan7 please let this be his year

yourusername

liked by francisca.cgomes, rileywhittall and 739, 234 others

yourusername all papaya down here 🧡

view 638 comments

mclaren 🧡🧡🧡

iamrebeccad you’re unreal ❤️‍🔥

↳ yourusername says youuuu

lando my angel

↳ yourusername whatever im just looking at u and ur slutty little waist

↳ yourbestfriend1 down girl

paddockgirly16 effortlessly serving looks yet again

f1wagtea01 lowkey love seeing the dress down paddock looks

↳ mtrsprtgpssip it’s trashy

yourusername

liked by alex_albon, georgerussell63 and 934, 784 others

yourusername my favourite person in the whole entire world. love you lots. happy anniversary 💘

view 893 comments

lilymhe happy anni love birds🥹

quadrant 🤍🤍

lilyzneimer awe you two!! 💓

danielricciardo can’t believe he’s kept someone around this long

↳ heidiberger_ danny be nice

yourbestfriend2 yn the type of girl to find any excuse to boast her bf

↳ yourusername guilty!!!

formulafan44 thank you yn we all say in unison

ciscanorris1 glad you’re part of the fam 🥲

lando

liked by lnfour, savnorris and 4, 893, 903 others

lando girl so nice, we celebrated her twice this week!🎂🎁 happy birthday and (belated) anniversary, baby mama ;) 🤰

view 5, 893 comments

mclaren happy birthday, yn! we’re so excited to see you and lando become parents!🧡

flonorris1 yesss finally!!!!! auntie flo reporting for duty

maxverstappen1 welcome to the dad club 🤝

yourbestfriend2 finally. hardest secret to keep

yourusername love u baby daddy :))) guess my incessant comments worked ;)

↳ lando something like that

alexandrasaintmleux congrats you two! 🤍

pietra.pilao feliz aniversário to the hottest mama out there ❤️‍🔥

wagteaf1 no fcking way they just hard launched this

formulawagfashion omg dad lando and mom yn im GAGGED

f1 Masterlist | Indycar Masterlist

taglist: @bernelflo @ifyouaintfirstyourelastt @f1updates4you @r0nnsblog @meglovesmclaren

[lydiasfalling]

SWEET CREATURE !

percy jackson x aphrodite! reader

➸✧˖*°࿐ taglist : open!

˗ˋˏ warnings : use of y/n, nothing else really ˎˊ-

‧₊˚✧ lydia’s yap fest ! ✧˚₊‧

happy valentine’s day everyone! hope you guys enjoy this. could possibly make this a series if it’s liked enough. love ya!!!

walking around camp half blood at this time of year seemed to mock you. the fellow aphrodite’s kids seemed to be focused on finding a valentine. now, dot get it twisted. you wanted a valentine. bad. the only problem with this was, well, your intense and completely obvious crush on percy jackson. something about his confidence and charismatic aura drew you in and ruined you for anyone and everyone else.

there was another problem with this. percy jackson happened to be your best friend. you had tried everything to get these feelings to go away. dating other camp members, having different flings, setting percy up with other people, and tartarus, you even had people give you love potions. nothing worked. it was getting unbearable for everyone surrounding the two of you. in particular, annabeth and grover seemed the most annoyed.

the pair had also tried to help you guys understand how perfect you two would be together. however, you and him both refused any sort of insinuation of romance. it’s not that you didn’t want to be with him. quite the opposite, actually. you just didn’t see the point of wasting your friendship by risking him not feeling the same way. keeping him close as a friend was better than loosing him.

infact, you had encouraged him to ask another camp member out. this led you to your current predicament, watching him as he walked with kailey ( a girl from cabin five ). this had been his choice—he insisted she was ‘interesting enough’. you could see by the look on his face that he didn’t truly enjoy her company all that much.

“ya know, this could all be avoided if you just told him how you feel.” annabeth said from next to you, throwing a pointed look in your direction. you chose to ignore the sarcastic tone of her voice as she spoke.

“how i feel? i feel like he’s my best friend and i can’t jeopardize that. they look to be having fun.” the second sentence came out as if you were trying to convince yourself as well.

as if the universe wanted to mock you more, percy and kailey made their way over to you. annabeth looked at you, praying that you noticed the bored look on percy’s face. you gave her a look as to say ‘stop it’ before turning to shoot a smile in the direction of the approaching pair. kailey seemed to have a permanent scowl on her face while percy’s expression shifted upon seeing you. his uninterested features changed to those of contentment when your smile entered his vision.

“hey, y/n!” percy’s pace increased the closer he got to you, leaving kailey slightly behind him.

“hey, perce. kailey.” you nodded in her direction, warranting an eye-roll from the girl. “what’re you guys up to?”

“just, ya know. walking around. sat at the dock for a little bit.” percy responded. him and kailey stood an unusual distance away from eachother.

“percy, im gonna go. come fine me when you’re done with. . . this.” kailey rolled her eyes for what seemed like tenth time in the short period that she stood there. she brushed his arm slightly before turning and walking away.

“well isn’t she just a ray of sunshine.” annabeth snorted, laughing slightly.

percy agreed quickly, “she’s. . . something. that’s for sure.” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“not feeling it?” you asked. he shook his head no, moving to sit next to you. his arm quickly fell over your shoulders.

this made annabeth abruptly stand up. “well, as much as i would love so stay and chat, i have shit to do. see you two later?”

“mhm. later!” percy said.

“bye, annie!” you added. as the girl walked away, you turned in percy’s direction. “is she really that terrible?” you asked.

“she’s . . . okay, i guess. not really my type.” his arm fell from your shoulders, hand moving to hold your own instead. this was something percy had developed on the numerous quests you two had gone on together. his need for physical closeness was something that many found annoying, but you found endearing.

“oh yeah? and what might your type be classified as?” you laughed.

“oh, ya know. i like a girl who’s smart, kind, funny, caring. all the usual things. i also like a girl who sets me up on dates with other people because she doesn’t realize i’m hopelessly in love with her. that’s my ideal woman.” he shrugged as if it were nothing.

your jaw had officially found the floor. “i—i’m sorry. . . what?” you were sure you had heard him wrong.

“you know what i said, y/n.” percy’s face turned serious as he turned his entire boy towards you.

“do i? because it sounds a lot like a confession.” you tried to lighten the situation, laughing slightly before halting.

“y/n, you’re making this extremely hard for me.” percy’s face had begun to turn a shade of crimson.

“how so?” you kept a serious face, struggling not to crack a smile.

“y/n. . . i’m completely and utterly in love with you. the way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you laugh again because, dam, i love that sound, the way you twirl the strand of hair by your ear when you’re nervous, the way you stick your tongue out slightly when you’re focused. i love the way that you talk about your niche interests and the way that you always put up with my bullshit. i love how deeply you care about everyone, even the people who don’t deserve it. i love the contentment in your eyes when we’re sitting at the beach. i love you because you’re you, and that’s the best person you can be.” percy didn’t once break eye contact through his speech.

it was official. this was the first time in your like that you had been rendered completely speechless. your palms became sweaty and your heart was racing. being a child of aphrodite normally meant you reacted better to love situations. this didn’t help you much now, though. instead, the only thing you could think of doing in that moment was leaning forward to connect your lips.

it wasn’t beautiful or a ‘sparks fly’ moment. it was quick and chaste, you moving away as quickly as you moved forward. once you pulled away, you looked percy in the eyes. his expression had shifted from one of fear to hunger. his hand came up, finding the back of your neck and pulling you into him again. his lips were warm and soft against yours. he tasted of sea salt and blue pancakes, a combination that only percy jackson could pull off. his free hand found it way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

once the two of you could no longer breathe, you both pulled away at a slow pace. he kept his forehead against yours.

“gods, i have been waiting a millennia to do that.” percy laughed, kissing your cheek. his head moved from yours to the crook of your neck.

“me too, perseus.” your hand reached up, lacing itself into his hair.

“fucking finally! gods, i was starting to loose hope!” grover said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

“me too, honestly.” percy spoke, lifting his head to look at grover.

“you too?” you asked, confused.

“y/n, you’re literally the only person who didn’t know about percy’s massive crush.” grover explained.

you averted your gaze towards percy, who shrugged in confirmation. your face heated up. safe to say that you had managed to find yourself a valentine, though kailey from cabin five wasn’t too happy.

my masterlist

taglist : @lydiascabinsix @cowboylikemac @laufeysvalentine @raysmayhem-72

[melodyofmbaku]

Signed in Crayon, Sealed in Cash (Smoke Moore x Annie x Stack Moore)

Preview: "Ain’t nothing to stress about mama. We done did this before.” he said while zipping up the back of her dress. 

Warning ⚠️: They're a Trio Word Count: 1.6k A/N Something less heavy but hopefully no less enjoyable. I really appreciate your comments/reblogs, it's what keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think! 😘 My Masterlist ___

The Moore’s had a problem. She was about 3 ft. tall and 5 years old. And a perfect combination of their unit. 

They really didn’t know what they were expecting. With their personalities it was no surprise that Ari turned out the way that she did. 

Smart, fearless, and most of all spoiled. 

That’s how the three found themselves in their bedroom discussing just how they got here.  

“You be telling her stuff Annie. Playing both sides against each other when it suits you.” Stack accused. He was looking at her through the mirror as he did up his shirt. 

Annie shrugged and admitted while lotioning her legs as she sat on the stool of her vanity.

“Just evening the playing field. It’s been ya’ll vs. me for so long. Lord saw it fit I get some backup. Ain’t a crime.” She huffed. 

“It’d be easier if your brother didn’t train her to be a master negotiator.” She looked at Smoke pointedly. 

The man sat on the bed and struggled to do up his cufflinks. He liked when Ari was able to make a good case. Prepositions and negotiations. He was setting her up for her future. 

Ari believed everything could be discussed. That made things particularly difficult when her parents wanted her to do simple things like eat her breakfast or take a bath. 

He shrugged. “That ain’t a bad thing. She’s our firstborn, she gon’ have responsibilities one day.” 

Still fiddling with the link he continued.

“It’s Stack’s “Whatever Ari wants Ari gets” mindset that’s the issue.” he said. 

“Oh I’m wrong?” The younger twin responded. 

“You want our baby to be out there — wanting? When she got not 1 but 2 able bodied daddies and a mama to boot? The hell she will.”

“Ari gets what Ari wants. And that’s law.” The man huffed before stalking over to do up his brother’s cufflinks. 

“Well that law is why we gotta put on this big ol’ party. Mind you— it’s for the dang dog.” Annie deadpanned. 

“You love that dog.” Stack replied over his shoulder... “It’s your dog!” 

“Not the point.” She replied singsongingly. 

But it was true — Ari had them getting all dressed up to throw a birthday party for their rottweiler — Peony — named after Annie's favourite flower.  She had had them invite the neighbors and everything. 

It was a sight to see Smoke standing uncomfortably at their neighbours door inviting them over for a party over the weekend. He thought about bailing but when he looked down at the small hand that held his on those doorsteps — how could he not do everything she wanted? 

At first the trio thought she'd forget about it. Let things die down, she was a kid. How hard would it be? But not their Ari, she was steady counting down the days. 

Smoke recalled knocking on her bedroom door earlier in the week to get her up and downstairs for breakfast. Annie had sent him up and little did he know he’d come down with a tot and a task.

He had barely got her into the kitchen before the girl started her campaign.

“It’s bout’ 4 days for Peony’s party, daddy. I’m gon’ need a new dress.” She said while scooting into her chair at the table.

Smoke grimaced. Earlier that week Annie had whispered sweet things into his ear and looked at him with them eyes and he found himself signing a cheque to add a plethora of new crystals to her collection — it was witchcraft if you asked him.  

Ari wasn’t big on things like that but she was big on looking pretty. If he’d have to blame anyone for that it’d be Stack - she def got that from him.

Annie—still tugging her robe belt into a hurried knot—arched a brow. Ten seconds earlier she’d been pinned between Stack and the corner cabinets, with hands greedily exploring her body and lips full of flour-dusted promises. The moment little footsteps hit the stairs, Stack sprang back, palms in the air like a boy caught in the pantry.

Now he leaned against the counter, trying for nonchalance.

“Thought Peony was happy just turnin’ six with extra gravy,” Annie said, smoothing her collar.

“Peony’s a lady, Mama. Mr. Whitlock’s taking a picture, and I gotta look fancy standing next to her.”

Stack stifled a grin and leaned on the counter. “Girl’s got priorities. Told Whitlock I’d give ’im fifty cents to set up the backdrop.”

Smoke crouched to put slippers on her feet, hiding the faint tremor in his wrist. “Pictures cost money. I best hear a counter-offer, Miss Moore.”

Ari pulled a folded paper from her dress pocket —crayoned swirls titled Daddy & Me. She slid it into his hands like a lawyer presenting evidence.

Stack gave a low whistle. Annie’s mouth twitched.

Smoke shot them a look.

He felt his chest thud a slow, traitorous beat. She knew how to pull on his heart strings. He smoothed the paper. “Fine draftsmanship,” he murmured. “But a good proposition needs terms.”

She lifted 3 little fingers.

“I’ll take my bath every night ’til the party— with no sassin’.”

“Well praise be.” Annie muttered. 

“I’ll eat all my breakfast, even when there ain’t peaches.” She looked at Stack pointedly. 

The girl was obsessed with peaches. She’d have em’ on the side of every breakfast if she could. On days she couldn't, she rarely cleared her plate.

Stack scoffed. He had a tendency to fuss when she didn’t eat enough, it looked like she knew exactly what it’d do to him. 

“Mama gets a dress too, ’cause she works hardest.” Her third and final term. 

Annie grinned. ““That’s my girl.”

Peony’s tail thumped beneath the table as if seconding the motion.

The man looked from Ari’s earnest face to Annie’s surprised smile, then back. He blew out a breath. How could he say no to his girls?

“Reckon that’s a respectable bargain,” he said, tapping the paper once. “But keep every promise, else that dress stays at the shop. Your mama will take you on Friday.”

Ari grinned wide before rewarding him with a smooch on his cheek. “Yes, sir!” She grabbed her piece of toast and scurried back up to her bedroom. No doubt to scheme and celebrate some more.

Stack muttered, “Dog’s birthday gonna bankrupt us,” but the pride in his voice gave him away.

Peony barked once—deal sealed and Mr. Whitlock’s fifty cents practically spent.

The girl had won. Again.

Smoke glanced at Annie— lips kiss bruised, robe belt in a crooked knot—and at Stack, who tried to look serious while hiding a proud grin. For half a second Smoke thought we’re raising a tiny Stack in ribbons and lace. The idea was terrifying.

Smoke shook his head before he tucked the drawing into his pocket, half-amused, half-resigned. Four days, he’d thought. Girl’s gonna hold us to every word.

Four dawns later, the house hummed with party nerves as they continued to get dressed.

Back in the master bedroom Smoke buttoned a starched collar, Stack tugged suspenders into place, and Annie—in a half-fastened dress—did up the clasp of her bracelet while side-eyeing the men.

Stack continued on.  “Never seen a dog rack up so many charges.”

Annie scoffed. “Dog didn’t do it—your daughter did.” She smoothed her bodice, thinking how Ari had spent the last three evenings taking her baths without sass and gulping every crumb of breakfast down without peaches.

“I’ll fry up the catfish around 6. That time everyone would had come round’ — Sun would be lower. ” she said to herself, almost a reminder. 

Stack looked up from his brothers cufflinks before crossing over to his wife. He took her hand and pulled her up from her vanity to assess her, brushing some lint off her dress.

He wasn't ignorant to the fact that Annie wanted the party to be perfect for her baby, regardless of the occasion.

“Ain’t nothing to stress about mama. We done did this before.” he said while zipping up the back of her dress. 

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “You a good mother. She loves you so much. We talk bout’ spoiling her, but we’d have it no other way. Just a couple hours now.”

She took a breath, and looked up at her man before responding, softer. “After the party, she’ll be asleep in five minutes.”

Smoke confirmed from across the room. “Whole house will.”

Stack stopped them. “Nah, then it’s grown-folk time.” Smiling wickedly. 

Smoke’s mouth curved— “Let’s get through the day before we talk grown-folk plans.”

Stack snagged the tin of pomade, Smoke pocketed the bow for Ari's hair, and Annie gathered her skirt. Together—three parents in harmony—they headed down to the yard, ready to celebrate the most elaborate Rottweiler birthday rural Mississippi had ever seen.

It wasn’t long before the party was in full swing. The backyard bloomed with bustle: neighbors laughing over lemonade jars, kids darting after bubbles, and Mr. Whitlock adjusting his big box camera beside the barn wall.

Peony—ribbon tied, coat brushed—sat on a low crate like a queen in waiting. Ari, face bright with excitement, raced over the grass toward her parents.

“Picture time!” she squealed, tugging Annie’s hand first, then Smoke’s sleeve, then Stack’s trouser leg for good measure.

Annie knelt, smoothing Ari’s dress. “Where you want us, Sugar?”

Ari pointed—one finger left, one right—no words needed. Smoke took his place to Peony’s left; Stack claimed the right. Annie settled between the dog and her daughter, fitting just so.

Whitlock ducked under the dark cloth, shouted, “Hold still… three… two—”

Click.

For a second, everything held: Ari’s proud grin, Peony’s patient pant, Annie’s soft exhale, the boys steady hands resting atop Annie’s back.

The moment printed itself on more than just film.

The party rolled on—getting funner as the night progressed, children chasing chickens, Peony gnawing a birthday bone bigger than her head. The trio moved through it together—not flawless, but whole—while Mr. Whitlock’s camera cooled in the shade, holding proof that love, once negotiated, can still develop clear.

__

A/N Thought I'd give ya'll some sugar after what I put you though in Touch of a Woman 🤭 For those curious about how we got here... you'd enjoy Late, but Loved.

I am still working on the fic with Annie soft-domming Smoke. This has been one of the most challenging works I've written. I've got to get the dynamic just right. But it will come!

Always eager to hear your thoughts and encouragement it keeps me writing. Can't wait to hear what ya'll think 🥰

____

My other works can be found in My Masterlist. Thanks for reading!

___

All Fic Taglist - Interested in my future works? Let me know if you'd like me to add you to my tag list. @chaneajoyyy @pyraomen @browngirldominion @sarcastic-sunshines @rolemodelshit @bbymuthaaa @boonoonoonus @joysofmyworld @twistedsistas-stuff @blackctrl

@heytemporary @blaqgirlmagicyallcantstandit @raysogroovy @prettygirl2800 @girlsneedlovingfanfics @hotcommodityyy @blackctrl @kkbeauty86 @voydess @soufcakmistress @destinio1 @theethighpriestess @coolfoodrunworld-blog @margepimpson @lizbehave @championshipshade @bigjh

[thebumblebeesworld]

BIG • BROWN • EYES

annie x smoke • fluff

summary: smoke lays his eyes on annie for the first time and is immediately taken by her beauty. as he notices the way she makes his heart beat fast in his chest and his hands stop trembling like they had for so long, he realizes that he has love for someone other than his brother.

cw: fluff, use of the nword, brief mention of trauma, stack being an annoying younger brother, nothing reallyy. just my cute loves

a/n: yea soooo three uploads in three daysss,, inspired by @margepimpson !!! thank you so much, love! i so needed that fic list you made

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He saw her first in town, walking from shop to shop, clearly checking off things from a mental list of necessities. Her walk was full of a grace that he adored. Something in her stance commanded every space she walked in. It made heads turn on a swivel just to keep up with with her. It made eyes bulge while she checked the firmness of watermelons or the quality in a gingham fabric.

The next thing he adored about her was the kindness in her smile. Every time she paid a cashier and collected her things, she graced them with a genuine smile and a honest thank you. It made his heart burst with infatuation.

One thing he couldn’t look past was her body. She was round and full-figured in a way that made him want to grab and hold onto her for dear life. Her hips were full and bounding. Her backside had a curve in it that made him want to run his hands along her dress. And her chest was plump and sitting high.

But despite this—and everything else he had found a joy in about her—what he seemed to love most about the mysterious woman was her eyes.

Big, brown, knowing eyes.

As he watched her drift through downtown—his body rested against the side of his car—he dreamed about what it would feel like for her to bless him with just one glance. That’s all he needed: to look directly into her eyes just one time.

Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore had never felt this way about a woman. He was by far no loose-man like his brother—tending to the needs of women who just couldn’t wait to rub it in the faces of women who hadn’t gotten a chance to lay with a Moore twin. But Smoke wasn’t a saint either.

He sinned hard and long into the night, lusting after women he didn’t have no business being with.

But the woman he peered at from across the street was like none other he had ever encountered. His stomach erupted in a funny feeling as he traced a line of sweat that ran from her neck and down the center of her chest. It was like his insides were twisting and turning with something fierce. Like when he’d gotten a bad batch of tamales from town but different.

This feeling was pulling at his soul.

It was aching.

Needy.

Desperate.

Before he saw her, Smoke’s hands had been trembling like they were known to do. His time in the war and years spent under the roof of an alcohol-abusing father had done that to him; And as he tried to patiently wait for his brother to return from collecting some cash they were owed, one sight of the woman eased his tremble and remedied his internal pain.

“Shit,” Stack shouted as he emerged from the building. "Took longer than I expected." He patted his brother on the shoulder and began to climb into the passenger seat but saw Smoke’s far-away gaze. “You good?” He asked after not receiving any indication that his twin was paying attention. He watched as Smoke's gaze was fixed across the street, watching a lady strolling about. He thought to call out to him again: “Smoke!”

“What, boy," he grumbled, not yet peeling his eyes from the woman. He tilted his head to get a better look at the way her arm swayed at her side and how her dress flooded nicely around her calves. "Don’t you see I’m busy?”

Stack huffed, not being put off by his brother's combative nature.

“I see you bein’ a weird ass nigga, starin’ at folks," Stack voiced unapologetically. His gaze was now fixed on her too, admiring the way she moved and enjoying what he saw. But one look at Smoke's face, and he knew she was already claimed. "What you lookin’ at her like that for?”

“You don’t see her?” Smoke neglected his question, shaking his head in disbelief. His brows ruffled at the annoyance his brother could be at times.

“‘Course I see her," he answered with an obvious tone. "That don’t answer my question though.” Stack prodded at his brother, trying to get him to be honest without so much of a fight.

“Nigga, she beautiful," Smoke spoke, voice dripped in a dreamy cadence—like he was imagining what life would be like now that he had gazed upon someone so gorgeous. Stack nodded along to his words, eyeing the side of his twin's head to see if he could read his mind. Stack knew his brother, and Smoke had never been this drawn to anyone before.

They had seen the world, and some of the most beautiful women there ever were called Mississippi home, but there was something so evidently different in the glint of Smoke’s eye.

Stack set his mind on making sure Smoke and the mysterious lady met face-to-face. He stepped forward, raising his hand and his voice.

“Aye! Pretty lady,” he yelled loudly, getting the attention of everyone in the town’s center and the woman Smoke’s heart now belonged to. She squinted her eyes at Stack, eyebrows drawn close together at the way he was attempting to wave her over.

“What you doin’, boy,” Smoke hushed in embarrassment. His teeth were bared, and his eyes had shifted downward in order to not meet anyone’s gaze.

“I’m getting you laid,” he spoke as if it was obvious. He began jogging across the street as the woman walked away. He shouted over his shoulder at his twin. “That’s probably why yo’ ass always so fuckin’ uptight. You need that good shit.”

Smoke completely recoiled from his brother’s brashness. His mellow and calm was now gone. His fingers began to shake again, causing him to pull a cigarette from his suit pocket that Stack had rolled for him earlier in the day.

He watched Stack gain the woman’s attention with a gentle tap on the shoulder, but the look she gave him was completely lacking the kind eyes she once had.

“I don’t take too kindly to men beckonin’ me like I’m some dog,” she punctuated, not backing down from the taller man. She found offense in the way he expected her to cross the street. She looked up at him, shoulders back and lips pressed into a flat line. It made Stack’s blood run cold and made Smoke’s heart jump.

He loved to know she was a no nonsense kind of girl.

“I ain’t mean nothin’ by it, miss,” Stack apologized , voice quieter than before. “I’m sorry that I offended you. I’m Elias ‘Stack’ Moore. And you are?” He took his hat off his head and placed it to his chest. His hand was held out to shake hers—though she refused to accept it.

“Annie Laveau,” she voiced, trying to get to the point of the conversation without any unnecessary fluff.

“That’s real pretty,” he smiled widely, chuckling just a little to lighten the mood. He wiped his hand on his suit jacket to push away the burn of rejection. The sun was beating down in them hard, and the way she looked at him with those big, brown eyes made his insides burn even further. “You one of them fancy Louisiana niggas?”

She rolled her eyes and shifted her weight onto one foot. Completely avoiding his idiotic question, she asked:

“What did you want again?”

Stack was taken aback. He stumbled over he words slightly and looked back to see his nervous brother, smoking a cigarette to quell that uneasy feeling he had often.

“Well, you see my brother over there,” he said, pointing to the twin, “he said he think you beautiful.”

“Is that so,” Annie questioned but in a voice that didn’t expect a real answer. Her eyes met Elijah’s from his spot across the street.

When they looked at each other, it was like the world stopped moving, even for just a moment. It was like they were the only two people in the world. Like Clarksdale wasn’t bustling and moving with an economic fervor spurred on by the production of cotton. Like neither of them had experienced a lifetime of pain and had to push through the trauma to survive. Like they somehow knew everything there was to know about each other but still desired to learn more.

That feeling was back in Elijah’s stomach. And the nervous feeling in his hands was gone again, causing him to throw his cig on the ground and stomp it out like it had never existed in the first place. He straightened his clothes and removed his hat, all while looking directly into her kind eyes.

Annie swallowed hard. She had met many men in her life and had entertained plenty of suitors, but the man across the street—who was the spitting image of the one who had offended her so—had won a special place in her soul just with one look in his eyes.

She cleared her throat and reluctantly turned back to Stack. He had a smile on his face that was buzzing from the show he had just witnessed.

“Tell ‘im if he think I’m so beautiful, he gon’ have to do more than just follow me with his eyes and send his twin to beckon me,” she said with less confidence than she had before. She kept glancing up to sweep her eyes over his body—how he had previously been leaned against the car but was now stood at attention.

“He ain’t send me over here,” Stack rushed out, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m just a better talker than him, you know. Wanted to see if you wanted a chance with the less fun version of me.” Stack ran his hands along his face and neck to show her all his glory, but it just made her laugh in his face.

“You really don’t know how to talk to women, do you,” she chuckled at his audacious manner. Him coming to see if she wanted “a chance” was more offensive than what he’d done before, but she still looked up at the man across the street one more time before deciding what to do.

“Girl, I stay with an arm full of fillies,” he huffed, ego hurt more than he cared to admit. “I can handle a conversation wit’ a woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she breathed heavily and raised her eyebrows, tone full of sarcasm. Her mind wandered, knowing that if she left without at least speaking to the other twin she’d live to regret it. “Fine,” she grumbled as if she was being drug to the cross, “I’ll go talk to ‘im.”

But she was giving in so willingly.

Her long legs crossed the street with that grace Smoke loved dearly. His brother stayed back, sending raised thumbs his way as an attempt to ease his anxiety.

The entire time, Annie’s eyes were on him, tracing the crisp line down the center of his pants legs, the hat that was clutched in his palms, the straining veins in his hands, the bulging of his adam’s apple, the softness in his brown eyes. She looked at him like he was the world.

And he looked at her the same.

It was then that Smoke realized his true feelings. As she walked across the street and through crowds of people, he realized that what he felt was love.

He met her halfway, a sweaty hand outstretched. He had seen how she reacted to his brother and feared the same fate of a heavy hand left unaccepted, but that fear was soon overcome.

She grabbed ahold of his hand.

Hers was soft yet solid against his calloused one, causing his head to swirl at how good it felt to touch her.

“H-hi,” he stuttered, tripping over his words as he tried to push the nerves away. Annie laughed sweetly at him, enjoying the way she had him shaking in excitement and a delicious nervousness.

“Hello,” her Louisiana accent rang out, pulling him in even further. “I’m Annie Laveau.”

She waited for him to say something back, but he just gawked at her with his lips slightly parted and body too close to hers for a public setting. She didn’t move away though. She stepped closer and squeezed at his hand that she still had a firm grip on.

“Sorry,” he apologized, placing a kiss to the back of her hand, indulging in the warmth of her. “Nice to meet you, Annie. I’m Elijah Moore. You can call me Smoke.”

Annie tilted her head to the side and smiled softly at him. She adored that sweet drawl in his voice, and she realized then that even if Elias considered himself the better talker, she’d do anything in the world to hear Elijah say her name again and again.

It was like the taste of honeysuckles and the scent of magnolias in bloom all at once. Her name had never sounded so good.

Annie stepped impossibly closer to his body, effectively stopping his breathing as he surrendered to her delightful gaze.

“I prefer to call you Elijah,” she nodded to herself, eyes glancing down at his lips and over to the dimple in his cheek as he smiled at her, “if that’s ok with you?” The smile he’d given her made her body feel numb. Prior to that, she had only seen his straight, far-too-serious expression, but here he was, showing her full teeth.

Elijah nodded his head with way too much enthusiasm, causing Annie to blush with laughter and Stack to shout at him from across the street.

“Damn, nigga,” he yelled at his twin, “she punkin’ yo’ ass.”

They both ignored him, sighing and rolling their eyes at his unique way of being. Annie and Elijah stood there, enjoying the calm that surrounded their bodies and envisioning a future full of love and possibility and each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: comment HERE to be added!

@brownskincheyenne @bigjh @zer0productions @devonda81 @raysogroovy @terayne-4 @hdfen2474 @mbjswife @iiiheartfayee @princesstar655 @captaincalypso2 @sleepysquishe @nuttyinternetprincess @lolimblack @chrome-edition @my-name-is-h-u-m-a-n @sweetalittleselfish-honey @theegyal @known-only-by-the-insane @nanak0matsux @d1spact @thugger-wugger @voidlesslove @massiv3tr33p3rsona @thefutureemmywinner @coolfoodrunworld-blog

[c0tt0ncandi]

I hate when I hyperfixate on something and then get in too deep and hurt my own feelings. Sinners rant. Wunmi and Michael rant.

I was scrolling and saw that video of the cast standing outside for pictures. It's actually two videos like that. When Wunmi is wearing a blue dress and one where she's wearing a floral dress I think. Mind you in both videos she's standing next to Michael. Why is it that they ALWAYS split them up? Why is it a problem to have this full figured dark skin woman standing next to MBJ the star of the movie?

Ryan Coogler literally looks like he goes in for a hug, but tells her something. Her smile drops and he stands between them. Why? She and Hailee were literally laughing together and he comes over to stop her with a "hug."

Why?

The other time she and Michael had a moment where they both looked at each other and smiled then held hands. He lets her hand go and shoved Miles in between them and once again her smile drops. Why? Even during interviews they sat him away from her or had someone sit between them as if it's forbidden.

I understand I'm taking it personal because I always care about what's going on with black women and how they're being treated. So I'm not going to ignore that, however this is being done on purpose. Videos of Michael and Wunmi usually involve such admiration and or laughs so why would you not want to push that? Black women are usually always the biggest supporters so why not cater to us as well when it comes to interviews, seating arrangements, and pairings?

Why do we have to watch one of ours get pushed aside? We'd like to see one of us get some love too. Was Annie not as important to the movie as Mary? Like what's happening? Why?

[boonoonoonus]

A Lesson to be Learned Pt 1

Smoke returns to Annie and finds out that he's not the only person who's been having nookie in the 7 years that passed. But of course, for him it doesn't count, but for Annie? It's a PROBLEM.

A/N: This is based on a prompt someone posted of Smoke finding Annie with someone else and losing his mind. If you happen to know who made that prompt, please tag them so I can say thank you. Also ENJOY! Shout out to my co-writer who RP'ed Annie.

Warnings: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, dual narratives with Annie's side and Smoke's

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Smoke wasn’t pleased.

He sniffed the air, his lip curled into a half snarl as his eyes traced the figure disappearing into the distance. Beau-Dallas had looked somewhat stricken at seeing him pull into the plot of land, and even after laying flowers on baby girls resting spot, something still felt off to him.

Still, he put such thoughts to the back of his mind as he walked to the door. When Annie opened the door, a half-smile crossed her lips, and he felt his expression quickly clear. He turned his head to rest his eyes on her, “how you be?” his voice rough and raw.

Something had told Annie that today was going to be a pivotal day, but she had hoped it was the day he would finally release her, allowing her to enjoy her own flesh without guilt. Instead, she felt her heart pounding as she heard the car rumbling in the distance. She’d rushed Beau-Dallas out the door, but she knew it was too late, that he’d been noticed when she really didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Granted, Beau-Dallas hadn’t needed much rushing, a letdown of a man in all manner of ways.

However, the minute she'd realised who had come knocking at her door, her stomach dropped into her gut and her legs went weak. Of course, he would appear today. The last person she expected to see. The worst person, even at a time like this. "Why you here Smoke?" She asks through a crack in the doorway. She doesn't let him in. She can’t. She tries to hold it together, fronting and pretending a moral high ground she knows he wouldn't allow. He'd left her. Not the other way around, but he wouldn't see it that way. She knew that, like she knew his love for her.

"We through with Chicago. And this home." Smoke didn't have to say it was his home, that was implied, a given actually, because Annie was always his home, had been his home since he married her, given her his last name, and seeded her right. If he wasn't gallivanting across the land with Stack, trying to keep that boy alive and with a head firmly on his shoulders, then he was with Annie. There were no other options, no other tethers for him on this land, but his brother and his woman.

Funny how it was only after so many years away, did he remember where home was.

"Well, welcome home." She offered drily, not budging an inch and refusing to stand down despite a rising panic. "You seen your daughter, you seen me. What more you want?" He didn't deserve any more emotion from her, though her heart ached at her words, at their distance. But, her traitorous heart whispered, he'd been the one to leave. No money, and no half arsed messages sent over the years could replace his missing presence. She hadn’t wanted that; she’d wanted him.

"Woman," Smoke planted his feet on either side of her doorway, unmoving. He'd expected resistance, but this callousness was unlike his wife. He could have budged past her, pushed her to the side and entered the shop HE had built, on the land HE had paid for, for HIS wife, but he'd remembered enough southern manners to speak to her from between a clenched jaw and act polite. "I know you hurt, and I know I ain't shit, but you’se my home, ain't nowhere else I 'spose to be, but with you and baby girl."

"Smoke, I done already moved on. I had how many years? Living without you?" How many nights had she slept alone? How many times had she touched herself in private thinking about a cock she missed and a man she loved. How many times had she cursed, remembering his mouth, his hands. And here, he was again, two arms, two legs, two eyes and a brain that worked. Against her will, and her better judgement, she felt herself start to soften. She missed him bad. She missed his hands, his slick mouth, his dick pressed deep in her pussy, her mouth, even her arse. That’s where he'd taken first, back when they'd been too young - too young to be doing anything really, and especially too young to spring up a child neither could care for.

Smoke closed his eyes and breathed deeply. As a man of few words, he'd married a woman who fought primarily with hers because she balanced him out, she could be his mouth piece and he her strength. But on a day like today, he could feel nothing but rising blood pressure from Annie's antics. "Yeah, and I'm motherfuckin' Jim Crow. Let me in, Annie."

She wondered distantly what habits her man may have picked up, as the frustration Beau-Dallas antics inside of her throbbed again, what sort of women he’d held down and fucked while they were apart. Had he licked them? Touched them tender? Did Smoke give them the good good as he’d always given her?

Her heart ached.

“Why? What are you planning, Smoke?” She asks because she knows what will happen if she lets him in. She wonders what he would do once he spread her legs and found another man’s seed. Would he beat her? Hurt her? Take her other hole instead? What would it be? She shook her head to clear her thoughts and shortened the space, pressing the door closed a little more. There was no need to open the door to old demons.

"We not having this conversation on the street for any ole nigga to hear Annie." The idea that their business would be public fodder and affect her business was the only thing that kept Smoke from pulling the door off the hinges and taking his woman into hand. It was hard enough to be back in Clarksdale after so many years, and though the reputation of the Smokestack twins preceded them, Smoke didn't want to take anymore chances with someone who didn't know the rules that ran the town, not after the incident earlier with Terry and the Maybell Plantation nigga outside the Chow’s. "Open the door, Annie, and let me through. You ain't gon' like what I'll do if you don't, and baby girl don't need to see her mama getting her shit popped."

Against her better judgment, she lets him in. Resolved to what seems inevitable now. When she steps back to let the door swing open, she feels a twinge from down below. A burning heat that only increases when she gets a whiff of Smoke’s scent after so long. She’d been aroused ever since she realised who it was at her door, but God it aches something different to have him so close, passing her space to get inside. Her body, after all these tests, these trials and tribulations, hasn’t forgotten. And no sloppy half-hearted coupling with a man whose cock couldn’t even fill her up right would change it.

When Annie opens the door, Smoke breezes past her, his hand already outstretched for his pipe. Once it's in his mouth, he doesn't hesitate to sit down and reach out for the good ganja he knew she kept hidden underneath the shop counter. She's pottering around, trying to keep busy and trying to avoid his eyes, and he can't help but let his eyes roam over her body in want. She's wearing his colour. A blue dress, light cotton so it stains easily with sweat under her arms, around her neck, and when she bends over a bit, he sees the sweat has formed crescent shapes on the places where the fabric rests under her booty cheeks when she stands. A fire burns inside, further fuelled when he pulls his hand back from under the counter and pulls the ganja, but also a soft scrap of fabric alongside it.

Panties.

Soiled, white panties.

Smirking, Smoke slowly put them in his pocket and patted the fabric. "Why you catching an attitude Baby? Ain't like you to cuss me."

Now that she let him in, Annie started to ponder her options. Enraging him further wasn’t it. It was too late, and she couldn’t hide the evidence of what she’d been doing, not with her dress clinging to her body with sweat and that man’s seed rolling down her leg. So, what was left?

Appeasement.

She breathed deeply, trying to stop the shaking in her hands. The ointment was still out. She’d needed it for that man, her pussy hadn’t been too interested in his ministrations and there was only so much juice she could pull from her own puss in front a man that didn’t stir her loins. She eyed it discreetly on the counter, wondered if Smoke noticed it, remembered it as the same ointment he’d used time and time again to ease into her back passage.

“How long ‘ave you been gone Smoke? Was I supposed to be happy you back? Forgive just like that?” She didn’t want to. She deserved to be upset. Deserved to seek out someone after so long; she wasn’t meant to be a widow indefinitely. Or till he remembered he had pussy at home. She was too loving, too pretty, too powerful to be left so alone for so long. He couldn’t just waltz back in, not after he left, and he couldn’t look at her with those eyes and make her feel guilty.

Smoke's eyes watched her keenly. She purposefully kept just outside the span of his arms, so he wouldn't pull her close. Yet, she turned to him as she cussed him out, hands on hips as she breathed a little deeply. "Seven years, baby, I know. Seven long years." He closed his eyes and shook his head to rid himself of the memories of the long nights, the nights without her, his heart breaking all over again. "But, I'm back, Annie and baby girl, she's at rest." He breathed deeply and took a few puffs on the pipe. "Papa's home for good. Stack an' me, we gon' open up a Juke joint, an' I'm gonna build you that house I promised you, an' we gon' have babies, give baby girl some siblings to look over, and we gon’ be happy, Annie. Together again, I promise yah." He stood up, placing the pipe to his side and though her body was stiff, reluctant, he pulled her close. His nose finding her neck.

She digested the information slowly, leaning away from Smoke, somewhat distrusting, though her body yearned desperately for his touch to quell the heat. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” Settle down, and Smoke didn’t exactly go together, especially when Stack was involved. A voice that sounded a little too similarly to Mary chastised her, told her to keep her suspicion. Still, it’s a fight not to melt right into his arms. Strong hands, a familiar scent, a broad chest. His voice lights something up within her, and she finds some tears collecting in the corner of her eyes. She’d been thinking about trying again, finding someone to give her a child. Probably a son. Someone to keep her company when everyone left, someone who would stay. And here came Smoke. “I missed you.” And that was the truth.

They hadn’t talked about trying again. Too lost in grief, but he was ready now, and he wanted their future back. "I missed you, too.” It's easy to pull her close, her chest heaving and pillow soft, without her brassiere pressed against his own, and capture her lips. She tastes as she always does, as she tasted in their youth, and he can't help but grasp her chin and cheek with his hands, pulling her into his orbit. She's his once more, and it's glorious.

Kissing Smoke never ceased to amaze her. The pure sensuality of it. Lips on lips, teeth, spit, and the single-minded energy that seemed intent on devouring her. She leans in with more and more fervour, her body increasingly primed for something and pussy leaking in new bursts for what she knew what was come next, what she desired to come next, her mind strays away from her trepidation, from her fear of the situation happening between her legs.

Annie is warm beneath his hands and Smoke can't help but slap her ass when his hands travel down her back to clutch at her curves. She moans into his mouth and he grins, drawing her close and digging his hands into her ass as he rhythmically slapped her ass so it continued to shake, one cheek then the next. "Shake that shit for papa," he says pulling back from the kiss to look into her eyes. He reached his hands further down, hiking up her dress onto her hips. Smoke didn't need to look, his hands knew exactly how to find her button and warm centre. So his fingers roughly part her second lips, groaning as he heard the loud wet sound as the lips separated."You miss me, baby?"

Her man doesn’t miss a step, and soon she’s enveloped in warm, familiar pressure. Holding on to her upset and anger is futile in the face of those eyes, fuck his hands know exactly where to go. He obviously hasn’t forgotten her body after all this time. A flick to her clit sends another warm wave all through her and she presses back on his fingers hungrily.

This is what she’s been craving what she missed. His hands on her. His words, filth and all.

She’s moaning now. Soft and plaintive at first, but increasing with strength.

"How can you—“ She can’t even finish the sentence. Rage flooding through her, intercepting her lust and longing. “How are you—gon’ fix your mouth to ask—If I missed ?” She missed him every day. In the beginning, she’d been so damn sad. It faded somewhat with time. As did the pitying glances and words people sent her way. But to ask?

They had a child for christ sake. She'd cradled the babe in her arms and cried for days. How many times had she wished he were with her? How many times had different folk run roughshod over her because they knew he had abandoned her.

She's warm, wet, and the room smells like sweat - like sex, but he can't focus on that because she's unbridled rage and upset in his arms. "Hush," he soothes her, "jus' playin. I know you missed me, I missed you too." That's an understatement. He thought of her constantly. In Germany, in England, in France, in the day, in the night, when he ate, when he slept, even when he was balls deep in some woman he couldn't remember, he had missed his woman.

His Annie.

Not for the first time, Annie thinks, ‘I must be a fool.’ Only a fool would cave like this at the first sign of contriteness, the first sign of apology from a man like Elijah Moore. She was that very fool.

It’s not enough, can’t be. There’s too much time for the two of them to make up for, but the same way she’d know what would be when she let this devil of a man enter her house again. Is the same way she knows she’ll take this paltry offering anyway.

“Elijah…” She says his name out loud for the first time. Not the moniker, not the mask. Her man. Long gone. Now back.

“You realise how much you embarrassed me, yes?” He had more than an apology to make up for. She needed her pride reinforced here. Not just his ego. And she knew he had one.

Even now, with another man’s seed inside her, he still thought he owned her. Still felt entitled to her body—her womb, even. And she’d given in to him still. She doesn’t understand, can’t fathom the pull he’s got on her.

“Tell me you’ll make it right.” That’s all she’s asking. Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe all he can offer her is some good dick and a pleasurable time, some handsome to brighten her day and all the trouble that came with him. Maybe. But something in her still trusts him. She had to. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be letting him talk her out of her metaphorical draws like this.

Smoke was not a man of words, so it was hard to bring forth what was needed, but he looked deep and he scoured his soul. She’s moaning now. Soft and plaintive at first, but increasing with strength, and Smoke can’t help the satisfaction brewing in his body as he toys with her honey pot.

"I'll make it right, baby, Papa will make it right." She was his second baby, their baby girl his third and Stack the first, but Annie had always been his special one. His gorgeous babe, who looked glorious with her sweat-slicked skin.

It wasn't just his sexual attraction, it was the desire, the way her body moved when in euphoria, the love he knew she felt for him in her heart and her power, tingling under her skin and warming his soul.

She groans in upset when he removes his fingers, and he can’t help his smirk as he brings his fingers close to his face. He stopped, glancing between his fingers and her face. “Baby, you creamin'?”

Annie stares up into gorgeous, complex eyes and knows without a doubt that she's in trouble. Her man was a vengeful person. And there’d be hell to pay for the unfortunate man she’d just lain with. As well as herself.

That alone is enough to make her pussy throb in anticipation and increasing fear.

In the past Elijah had shown jealousy before and she’d played it off and been able to reassure him that it wasn’t any other man’s but his.

Now with her caught redhanded, pussy still wet from another mans seed? Not a chance in hell. Lord how long would he hold this over her head?

No subpar sex was worth this. She should have just touched herself and gone to sleep. This is where lust led her.

Punishment.

“I sure wasn’t before.” She acknowledged the event that had occurred previously and held her breath.

His nose catches the scent, and Smoke feels anger like he’s never felt before. His mind runs through the clues, her sweaty skin, clammy hands and reluctance to open the door. Her wet pussy that was loose and open to his touch. “This shit smells like seed” The admission is all over her face and it takes every inch of self control in Smoke to not flip the table and do something drastic to her. “You gave my pussy to some field nigga in the Delta?”

Smoke feels an unbridled rage, that can't be tempered by her wide innocent expression and her mouth set in a pout. A wicked woman is his wife. A wicked, wicked woman.

In a quick motion, he has his hand around her neck, loosely, very loosely. Just enough to scare her, but nothing serious and stares into her eyes.

"Annie?" He asks in warning.

[theegyal]

FADED [ Annie X Smoke ] , Sinners (2025)

I literally love this couple from Sinners. What I mean is that I’m literally Obsessed about them. The chemistry between the two actors so good, it makes me want them to date in real life too. Lawl.

I plan to make a long fully fanfiction name : Faded. I don’t know how many part or chapters. Will prolly let the flow guides me.

Warning : Angst, Slow-burn, Rated 18, Smut.

I want to add : English is not my native language and I can make grammar mistakes or syntax. As I’m not American descend (I’m west African) some cultural assets can be off, I tried my absolute to learn more about the southern black community and culture before making the fanfic so, it will be fine but if you feel something wrong, please do tell me.

CHAPTER 1

Chicago treated them well. At least, that's how it looked to the folks in Delta Town.

Fugitives—that's what they were. Creeping away from the North, hiding, running from the crimes they'd done to those white folks. No matter how justified it seemed, they should've gone somewhere else.

Smoke knew from the start they should've taken another direction. Was it his gut? Or just regret?

"—Damn, nigga," Stack muttered, smirking as he spat tobacco into the dirt. "Didn't know you turned pussy on me."

Smoke stared at his twin with burning eyes, saying nothing.

Afraid? No.

Skeptical—that was the only feeling that fit.

"Relax. It's gonna be fire." Stack grinned "We're home, dandy! The whole Delta's ready to welcome back the twins—Smoke and Stack!" He said, his hand dancing over the wheel.

"Shut up and drive," the older brother finally snapped. "Let's pick up Sammie on the way."

Everything they did was just stalling.

Every turn, every errand—it was all to keep him from facing what waited.

That place.

That silence.

Calling it home felt dishonest. Like trying to dress a wound that never closed.

The old chapel buzzed, alive with the faithful.

The Mississippi sun pressed down on the tin roofs and white hats, but it couldn't keep them from their hymns and hallelujahs.

"Hey, Sammie!" Stack called out, breezing past the old man standing at the building's white door like he was part of the landscape.

Smoke looked at his uncle for a second too long.

Then turned away, back to the road.

"Let's go," he said.

After a long ride, they reached the meeting point where they had to split.

Stack and Sammie went looking for Slim, and Smoke decided to visit his old friend Bo.

Grace and Bo's storefronts hadn't aged a day. Seven years gone, and nothing had changed. That hurt more than he expected.

The familiarity. The stillness. The way the past didn't even flinch when you came back to it.

"I need your wife to make a sign. We're about to do something big," the older twin explained.

The business ended quickly.

Smoke took a white rose bouquet on his way out.

He knew something was missing. The truth was, he'd robbed himself of it.

He'd stolen his own right to come back.

To remember.

To mourn.

Stack was right. Maybe he was a pussy.

"Daddy's there," Smoke whispered to the rocky grave in front of him.

His eyes fell on the fresh milk carefully left beside it.

She was still here after all.

He heard children giggling, coming and going, once or twice.

Then he felt something—a presence. He didn't turn around.

He didn't need to.

He knew it.

Knew her.

Would've recognized that energy among a thousand souls.

And he, the man who didn't believe in ghosts—Was suddenly haunted.

"How have you been?"

"Still alive. I don't complain," she replied, her voice deepened with muted anger. "What are you doing here, Smoke?"

He finally gathered what was left of the courage still in his body and faced her—the woman he had left behind.

"Annie," he whispered

She stepped toward him, her body shaped in godly curves, her Nubian skin glittering under the southern sun. The tattered dress she wore made him hiss in self-accusation.

He could've covered her with the most  precious jewelry, dressed her up with the kind of sumptuous fabrics the northern white ladies wrapped around their feverish figures, flattering themselves.

He could have.

But the truth lay here: he didn't.

He went to war, tricked the Mobs—

And now he couldn't even hold the gaze of a woman.

Shame.

Smoke was ashamed.

"Don't tell me that Chicago vomited you ?" She shut the distance between them, stare at him with her roundish brown eyes and  a disappointed smile "what are you doing here, Smoke ?"

"We about to open a juke joint, we bought a sawmill, the building quiet good."

Annie laughed.

Damn, he missed her laugh. For an instant, he got caught glancing over her lips, until she replied sarcastically without stopping her laughter.

"Oh, let me guess, it was Stack's genius idea? What did you both do to buy a white man's property, huh? Who did you steal?"

"Tch."

Annie returned her steps toward the wooden cabin shop, followed by Smoke's manly shadow.

"Thank you, Miss Annie," cheered up a little girl.

"You're welcome! And don't sell it to anyone. I don't want your momma to scold me!"

The hoodoo priestess replied before taking money from the girl. As soon as she was ready to keep her money in her pockets, Smoke rapidly took the papers off.

"What is it?" he clinched.

"Give me my money, Smoke."

"I can trade those. Why are you accepting that?"

"You somethin' else. After all these years, now you wanna act like I'm a real person, huh? Hand me my money. Now."

"Babe—"

"Elijah."

He knew better than to talk back. Truth was, he ain't had no right tellin' her what to do, no more than he had the right to show up like this.

"Come on, Ma'. Cook for us. I need you. This lil' business we runnin' now—"

"Uh-uh. Don't start that. Why the hell you here, Elijah?" she said, blowin' out the candles on her shrine.

"You know damn well why." He paused, took off his hat, and lit his pipe with a shaky hand. "I can't stop thinkin' 'bout her. 'Bout you. Don't matter where I go, it's like I'm stuck in a loop—hear her laughin', cryin'. I keep wonderin' what we coulda been... if she was still here."

"Mhm. I reckon you wouldn't've run off, vanished like a ghost, not even a word. I bet you wouldn't've let seven damn years pass between you an' her." She said arching a brow unimpressed.

"Resentment don't look good on ya, Annie."

"Cowardice wasn't somethin' I ever thought I'd see in you—'til you ran too, Smoke."

The silence that followed was thick. Heavy.

A man might be called a damn fool for feelin' a slow heat rise up through his body at a time like this. But lawd, no matter what this woman did—she got under his skin, stirred him up somethin' fierce. Most folks didn't dare talk back when he opened his mouth. But her? She stood there like she was born to defy him. Stared him down like her life hung on it.

"You best tame that thing, and do it quick," she snapped, pointin' straight at the hardened hood swellin' under his trousers.

Flustered. Smoke knew damn well his lady was. She always got like that when she was shy or tryin' not to let it show. Teasin' was more Stack's thing, but he couldn't help himself.

"Prolly just missin' a lil' ol' Creole touch to settle it down." he drawled, eyes heavy on her. "You know what they say—old pots cook the best meals."

She didn't say a word. Just turned her back to him, slow and deliberate, like she was tryna smother the flame and not feed it.

"Get outta my house, Smoke."

He let out a long sigh, stood slow, the chair legs scratchin' against the wooden floor. The air between 'em was thick, close, hummin' with somethin' that ain't been named in years. He reached the door. Suddenly she added

"I don't wanna get paid in dollars for tonight."

He paused, hand on the doorframe. Turned just enough for the corner of his mouth to lift.

"As you wish, ma'am," he murmured, "Til' tonight."

LINK TO THE OTHER PART : (.v.)

[sinofwriting]

Points Have Been Made - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen

Words: 3,363 Summary: Max and Charles find out something happened to their girlfriend. Note(s): Thank you Mak for commissioning this! Mentions of medical stuff, infertility (not reader). One German word, one Dutch word, some French words. Jenson Button appears in this fic, because uh, well, I love him and honestly, I’d like to think (write) him having a weird soft spot for Max (and Charles) after seeing him more recently around Logan.

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Max.”

He lets out a hum, his focus on the car and racing line into turn nine.

“Box box.”

“What?” His eyes flick up to where a yellow or red flag would be waved but there isn’t anything. “I’ve only done three laps on these tires.”

“Box box.”

His brows furrow beneath his helmet and balaclava at the non-answer.

Pulling off the track and into the pit lane, his fingers tap against the wheel as they pull his car back into the garage. He sits there expecting the mechanics to make some sort of adjustments but instead they start doing what they do at the end of a session, cooling the car down, prepping it for its next use.

He feels a slight pressure to the top of his helmet and then GP is in his line of sight, leaning into his space and car, perfectly helping to cover him with the mechanics and engineers, so the camera can’t see inside. “Something happened, Max. Session is over for you.”

His heart starts thudding in his chest, panic threatening to overtake him. “What happened?” His voice is muffled by the helmet but he knows that GP hears it from the way his frown deepens.

“Out of the car, Max. We’re doing our best to not let cameras see in, but who knows how long that will last.”

Max looks at the mechanics and engineers and only now takes note of how they’re standing. It’s a carefully constructed wall, not allowing the cameras to see him at all. “Alright.” He murmurs.

He focuses on his hands as he disconnects the steering wheel, resting it on top of the car before pulling his gloves off. He doesn’t know why but he expects them to be shaking, but they’re perfectly still, like always. Jaw clenched, he stands, bending at the waist to grab the steering wheel and put it back on before hopping out of the car.

It’s odd to take his helmet off, passing it gratefully to Annie who whisks it and his gloves away.

“What happened?” He asks GP again.

A hand is pressed against his back, pushing him to walk and he does. Undoing the near too tight collar of the race suit as he walks. It’s only once they’ve nearly disappeared behind the wall, where outside cameras aren’t allowed that GP speaks. “It’s about Y/N.” And the rug disappears out from underneath his feet.

—

“I’m okay, mama. I promise.” She says, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she rubs at her head.

“You’re sick. And I know that neither Max or Charles is with you.”

“I will be okay, I’m a big girl.”

“You're my baby.”

Her heart clenches at her mom’s words. All of her friends growing up and even some now all thought of her mother as overbearing, with the weekly phone calls, daily check-ins and texts, but she was her mother’s only child. She grew up knowing that she was supposed to have siblings, that she was never supposed to be an only child, but it hadn’t worked that way for her mother and it had made her protective of her only child.

“I know, mama. But I’m okay.” Her words nearly flatter as a wave of dizziness hits her, but she pushes it away, clutching at the counter with her left hand as her right rubs at her temple. “The weather just changed here in Monaco. Y’know how that goes.”

Her mom makes a noise, not believing her.

“Pascale will be coming over for dinner, to check on me. Charles’ orders. Will you believe her?”

“Oh, kindchen.” Her voice is soft, so reminiscent of her childhood. “It is not that I don’t believe you. It is that you are always the last to notice when you are unwell.”

“I will be okay and she will text you to update you. Now go to your book club. I know that it is today.”

“It’s not a book club!”

“It’s a book club, mama.” She laughs, wincing immediately at the way the movement makes her feel unsteady.

“I’ll call you first thing tomorrow alright?”

“Alright.” She agrees. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

As soon as her mom hangs up, she takes a deep ragged breath. Her hand on her forehead, that’s damp now with sweat which makes her nose wrinkles, grasps at her phone before setting it on the counter.

It’s only when it knocks into something she realizes she’s had her eyes closed and she doesn’t know for how long. Opening them, she blinks at how bright the kitchen is. Turning her head slowly, her nose wrinkles up again at how the sun is positioned in the sky. No wonder it was so bright.

Letting go of the counter and taking a step towards the living room, she swears when a wave of dizziness rushes over again and she’s clutching at the counter again. The edge of it digging into both of her palms.

“Fuck.” She breathes when it’s passed. She watches as a bead of sweat drips off of her onto arm. She needed a shower. She needed to shower before Pascale got here. With the reminder of Pascale coming in a few hours she takes a few more deep breaths before letting go of the counter and walking.

Only it isn’t just a wave of dizziness that hits her, but a tidal wave and before she can catch herself, she falls to the floor, head hitting the tile hard and knocking her out.

—

“What happened to her?” Max asks, feet seeming to be glued to the floor as GP tries to push him deeper. “GP, what happened?”

GP looks around before leaning into his space, a hand on the back of his neck pressing, and Max lets him push his head down. “Pascale found her passed out, she hit her head on the way down. They’re still waiting for test results.”

“But,” His mind is whirling, trying and failing to understand what is happening. “Where is Charles?”

If GP is surprised by his next question he doesn’t show it. “He’s still out there. He just about told Xavi to fuck himself when Xavi told him to abort his lap.”

Normally that would make Max smirk, chuckle but he can’t be bothered. “I need to tell him. He can’t hear it from Xavi or Fred.”

“Andrea was going to tell him.”

Max shakes his head. “She’s in Monaco. Charles can’t find out by himself.” He looks at GP pleadingly and the older man nods.

“I know, go and get out of your race suit and you can go right on over. Fred is expecting you.”

Max quickly claps GP on the shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you.” He rushes to say again as he moves quickly to his room.

—

Charles is grinning as his car is pulled into the garage. He doesn’t know what Xavi was thinking, telling him to abandon that lap. It was amazing. And yes he knew that his session was over, cut short due to a new setup that they wanted to try out, but it was fine. This track had always treated him nicely and with this car, it would hopefully even treat him to a win or he mused considering Max, second place.

Climbing out of the car and pulling his gloves and then helmet off, he doesn’t notice the way the engineers and mechanics are blocking the cameras from seeing anything, or the worried looks from Fred and Xavi. He just notices the worry on Andrea’s face when he catches sight of Max, standing just out of sight if you look into the garage, close to where the drivers rooms are. And he does notice the look on Max’s face, it makes his stomach drop and he rushes to him, not even murmuring a thank you to Jean who takes his helmet and gloves from him.

“Max,” he breathes, hands fluttering before they rest gently on his face. “What happened, mon coeur?”

“Charles,” his name is broken up by a stuttered breath.

“Did something happen to Sophie? Vic? Luke? Leo? Jos?”

Max shakes his head at every name.

Dread fills him even more. “Y/N?”

Max’s eyes close and he nods.

“No.”

“Charles.” Andrea’s voice is in his ear, ushering him forward. “Let’s get you both somewhere private.”

He nods, letting his hands fall away from Max’s face, though he can’t help but to grab Max’s hand, intertwining their fingers, needing the touch, and Max clearly does too with the way he squeezes his hand back.

As soon as his driver’s room door shuts, Andrea speaks again before Charles can ask anything.

“Pascale called me maybe ten minutes ago. She went over to yours for dinner, to check on Y/N and found her passed out on the kitchen floor.”

Charles makes a wounded noise and his already tight grip on Max’s hand grows worse and the barely older man doesn’t even wince or jump. Doesn’t seem to notice.

“They’re at the hospital.” Andrea’s voice is somehow even gentler than before when he says it.

“They are at?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, maman.” He murmurs, feeling tears prick his eyes and Max drops his hand, wrapping an arm around him, bringing him close.

“They are waiting for test results.” Max says. “GP made me box. He told me and I rushed over here.”

“I,” Charles shudders. “Is she okay? I mean she passed out on the floor. How?”

“I don’t know. They only just got there or at least that’s what it sounded like.”

Charles nods.

“Thank you, Andrea. For getting a hold of GP.”

Andrea sends Max a look. “Of course, Max.”

Andrea leaves the room, leaving them alone and Max as soon as the door shuts, wraps Charles completely in a hug, holding him tight as he tries to comfort himself with at least having one of his partners healthy and safe in his arms.

“I,” Charles struggles again. “I should call someone to go be with maman. She shouldn’t be there alone. Not at least till I can get there.”

“Charles,” Max starts to say and Charles shakes his head, pushing away.

“No, Max. I know it is a race weekend. But it is just a two-hour flight away, I can be back before qualifying if it is not too bad.”

“Charles,” he tries again.

“I have to go. I can’t just be here while she is unwell.”

“Charles,” and this time Max is holding his face, making him incapable of speaking. “I am going with you. Fuck the race. If it is bad, it is not like we will lose our spots in the championship. Everyone else is more than forty points behind, we will be fine. Let me call my pilot, the jet will be ready by the time we get to the airport.”

“Merci, Max.” Charles breaths, pressing their lips together. “Merci.”

—

“Pascale?” She mumbles when she opens her eyes and sees the woman sitting beside her. “Did I fall asleep?”

She tries to sit up but her head aches, making her groan, and Pascale is gently pushing her back down. “Lay down, sweetheart.”

“What?” Her eyes wander around the room as she realizes this isn’t her, Max, and Charles shared place. It’s far too clean, sterile. She tries to lift her arm and winces when there’s a tugging sensation. Her eyes fall to her arm and more confusion builds as she sees an IV. “Pascale, what happened?”

“I found you passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“But,” she couldn’t have passed out. Right? Her mind struggled to remember it. She knew she had been feeling dizzy, but enough to pass out. “Are we at the hospital?”

“We are.” Pascale’s hand pats hers. “I will be right back. I’m going to get the nurse, okay?”

She nods and as Pascale darts out the room, her eyes land on someone sitting just outside her room. “Jenson?”

—

“Anything new?”

Charles shakes his head, frowning at his phone. “Like before, they knew that she was dehydrated as soon as she came in but they are still waiting for everything else to come back.”

“What is taking so long? Is it money?” Max runs his hand through his hair, before he looks at Charles. “Call them, the hospital. Throw your name around, prince of Monaco.”

“Max.” Charles hisses. “I am not the prince of Monaco. And I can’t call them. Nothing will happen if I call.” He huffs, slumping back in his seat.

It’s silent for a moment.

“Are you,”

“Yes, I’m sure, Max.” He reaches over and squeezes Max’s hand before tangling their fingers together, lifting them to give him a kiss. “We will be there soon.”

—

She tries her best to focus on the doctor as they examine her but her eyes keep going to Jenson. Now inside of her room and standing in the corner, arms crossed over his chest as he watches intently.

“You have a mild concussion from the fall. The back of your head will be tender.”

“But why did she faint?”

The doctor frowns, “Normally I’d have the answer for you. But our lab is abnormally backed up and we are down to one lab technician. As soon as the results are in, I will be back to give them to you.”

“Take your time.” She smiles.

Jenson shakes his head when the doctor leaves. “How does Monaco, of all places, have only one lab technician working?”

“Jenson, what are you doing here?”

He smiles at her, coming closer to her and bending quickly to press a kiss to her cheek. “Max texted me. Asked me to keep you and Pascale company. I was already here in Monaco.”

She smiles at the older driver. He and Max’s friendship wasn’t too well known, but they talked often. Then she frowns, because Max had asked him. “Max asked you?” Her eyes then look over at Pascale.

“I texted Andrea.”

She nods. “Can you tell them I’m okay? There is no need to worry.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Pascale, I’m okay. I haven’t felt dizzy since I woke up, my head hurts a little from the concussion that’s all.”

Before Pascale can respond her attention is drawn away by the sound of the room door practically being thrown up and two voices on top of each other.

“Chérie!”

“Schat!”

—

“We were so worried.” Charles murmurs, holding her face gently.

“How is your head feeling?” Max asks, sitting beside her on the bed, arm wrapped around her.

“I’m okay.” She smiles at both of them. “My head hurts a bit, but that will go away soon enough.”

Charles frowns, fingers gently brushing over her cheekbones, before he drops his hands to hold both of hers. “Are you sure? I’m sure we could get you some meds.”

“I’m sure, Prince Charles could get you some meds.” Max whispers in her ear making her laugh while Charles sends him a dirty look, though a smile is playing on his lips.

“Don’t listen to him, chérie.”

She smiles at Charles, carefully leaning forward to press their lips together. Before being even more careful as she turns her head to kiss Max.

“Thank you both for coming.”

“Of course.”

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Charles and her both look at Max, eyebrows raised.

“Okay, I can think of places I’d rather we be.” He admits.

Charles shakes his head, “so silly.” He murmurs, leaning across her to kiss Max. “Now, why don’t we have your test results back yet?”

“There’s a backlog.” Jenson says, grinning when Charles jumps at the sound of his voice. “Max sent me over to keep them company as soon as you guys figured out the game plan.”

Charles’ entire face softens and Max flushes at the look their boyfriend sends him.

“And they only have one lab technician.”

Max lets out a curse. “Did you try bribing them?”

“I could go try if you’d like.”

Max starts to nod, but a knock sounds on the door and it opens.

She watches as the doctor blinks at the two new people in her room but ignores them, focusing on her. “I’ve got your results right here. Hypoglycemia. Low blood sugar and I mean very low blood sugar. When’s the last time you ate?”

Her brows furrow.

She remembered eating Tuesday night with Max and Charles before they left. A nice dinner that her and Max made, Charles pouring them more drinks or chopping and stirring things. But she had eaten something the next morning hadn’t she? Her head throbs as she thinks, but she ignores it, trying to remember and winces from both the pain and the realization that she hadn’t eaten anything since Tuesday night.

“Tuesday night. I was going to eat breakfast on Wednesday but we were out of my breakfast bars and then I got so busy and I just wasn’t hungry.”

“Are you not hungry often?”

“Sometimes. But even then I make sure to eat at least one meal a day, I snack throughout. I’ve never done this before.”

They nod. “As long as this isn’t a normal occurrence, I don’t see an issue. But, you need to make sure you are eating often. You don’t want to be back in here because you forgot to eat and it made your blood sugar drop.”

“Of course. Thank you so much.”

They nod. “I’ll get your discharge paperwork done and as soon as you’re finished with the bag, you’ll be free to go.”

—

“When are you guys flying back?” She asks, Max’s head in her lap, her fingers combing through his hair as she leans against Charles.

Max makes a face. “We won’t be.”

Charles and him had both talked about it as they got Pascale home and she settled in. Their teams would be unhappy, but it wasn’t like they could be overtaken in the championship. They could live. And they had two weeks after this with no racing. Two weeks where they could make sure she was eating, taking care of herself. And she’d be going to the next race anyway. This had been a sort of one-off due to all the things that had piled up at home.

“What do you mean you won’t be?”

“We can miss a race. Max is twenty points ahead of me, I am forty-seven points ahead of Oscar.”

“I have so many questions about that.” She murmurs, because god what was this season. Checo barely hung onto fourth in the championship with George hunting him down, Lewis and Lando hunting down George. Barely fifteen points collectively separating third to seventh.

Charles snorts. “Many people would like to know the same.”

“You should go though. Put more of a lead in the points.”

Max and Charles share a look, a bit hard with their positions but they manage. “No.” They both agree.

“I can survive not even two days. I’ll go stay with Pascale. Have Arthur stay with me. Or Jenson since he’s here in Monaco.”

“No.” They say again at the same time.

“You are far more important than another twenty-five or eighteen points.” Max continues.

She sighs, looking at them both. “Three stubborn people is way too many people in a relationship.”

“I think it’s perfect.”

“Suck up.” Max coughs and Charles flicks him on the forehead.

“Says you.”

“Boys, settle down.”

“Love you.” They chorus.

She shakes her head, sighing. “If you will not go without me, I will just go with you.”

“You have a concussion.”

“A mild concussion. And we all know that you have flown before with a concussion, Charles.”

He pouts, “it was just once.”

“Twice.” Max coughs and Charles flicks him again.

“I will go with you tomorrow. Just please make the flight later than eight am.”

“Done.” Max says, already texting his flight crew.

“Thank you.” She starts to bend to kiss Max, when her face is redirected to look at Charles and he kisses her.

She expects Max to whine but as soon as Charles is done, Max is turning her head the other way, no longer laying in her lap, to kiss her as well.

[moth2flamewriting]

Easier

So, I figured I would take my time putting this one out. I don't like feeling like I'm rushing to write and then giving you guys bullshit to read.

I appreciate all the positive feedback, it makes me feel super confident in my writing!

ENJOY.

"You makin' love so easy," the words lazily slipped out of her mouth.

"That's cause we was meant to be Annie," Smoke grinned.

The Beginning of the Day...

She woke up to and immediately thought the worst. It had been almost 2 years since Smoke came back to town. She was prepared for the worst and hoping for the best.

Her furrowed brows loosened as aromas wafted in from the doorway.

He was making her breakfast, well lunch.

She rolled out of bed on a hot July afternoon. In complete bliss from the last 2 years she's had with her husband.

He'd been so consistent, so.. present. The war wasn't holding him hostage. He was clear minded. He was focused, and it was on her.

As she got up, Elijah walked through the door with a big shit eating grin.

"I got sumn' for ya." He was always doing something.

"You gotta close ya eys if you wanna see,' he teased.

Annie was always in the mood for his surprises.

"Lijah, don't let me fall now,' she joked back.

He guided her out through their living room and into the kitchen.

"Baby.. you've really outdone yourself," turning into his chest with happy tears falling down her face.

64 roses arranged on the kitchen table. A note. Not only that, there sat a ring.

They were already married, but this? This was a moment she always dreamed of sharing with him. Specifically, him.

Approaching the table, hands gravitating towards the letter that read:

Annie,

I waited a long time to come back to what we had. I ran. I hurt you. I should've stayed here with you. I can't change the past, only what I do from here on out. And that's show you.

I prayed for you, not even knowing who the prayer is going to. I just pleaded with whoever to get me back to you. Asked the big hole in the sky day in and day out to reunite us. I love you Annie. Everyday that passes by I wake up loving you more than I did yesterday.

You are the light on my darkest days. You are the moon and the stars and everything in between. What better way to prove that to you? I dedicate my life to your happiness, peace, and wellbeing. I'm choosing you in this moment the way I choose you every day.

I know in every lifetime that you & I will be reunited because when it's meant to be, it lasts forever.

Thank you for who you are. For helping me become who I am. Now I just have one more question for you baby..

Yours forever,

Elijah

p.s. Turn around!

She was gasping for breath, chest rising and falling so rapidly.

She turned. And there he was, on bended knee, reaching for the ring.

Tears welded in their eyes. THIS MOMENT, specially made for them.

"Now, I know you probably thinking I done lost my damn mind. But I have to have you for the rest of my life. So I was wonderin' if you would be my wife?," he asked.

"I'd marry you one hundred times over Elijah," she replied.

He placed the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. They were perfect for each other.

He knew that this was something she longed for even after they got married. He made her dreams a reality.

What started off as a kiss of appreciation, escalated quickly into a heavy session. Tongues dancing, hands gliding up and down eachothers bodies.

He cups her face with two large hands, caressing her cheeks. Plants a sweet kiss on her lips. Her forehead. Her cheek. Traveling down her face licking, biting and sucking on her neck.

Her hands holding the back of his head. If he wasn't holding her up, her knees would've gave out right from under her.

"Smoke you bitin' me so hard, you gon leave a mark," she hissed.

Everybody knew she was his already anyway, it wouldn't be the first time she had to walk around with love marks.

"I can't keep my mouth off of you, you're so sexy," he growled into her chest. "Take your shirt off," he demanded.

She obeyed his request.

Soft, plump titties fell out of her dress. He was mesmerized. Her nipples were so hard, sensitive to the touch. He wanted to suck them. That sent her body into a frenzy.

He pulled her towards the couch where he sat down and pulled her to sit in his lap. Her breast directly in his face, he took the erect nipple in his mouth. Sucking lightly, biting them softly. Moans fell out of her mouth. She dug her nails into his shoulder, leaving marks.

"Elijah, the way you touching me got me going crazy, I can feel my pussy getting wet for you," she moaned.

His dick was hard as fuck. Between the titties, the moans and her rocking back and forth on his dick.

She felt him growing under her. She needed more friction. She rocks harder. The only barrier between then are her panties. She's leaking onto his pants.

"Baby, I'm bout to cum for you."

"Oh no no noooo," he stops her. He grabs her around waste with one hand to lift her up a little, he uses his other hand to rip her panties off and pull his dick out.

Her body hovered in the air as he lined himself up with her slick opening. He guided the tip of his dick into her gushy, warm pussy.

Annie's head fell back, mouth agape, "Ohhh my god Daddy, i feel so full already." He wasn't even in her yet.

"Your dick is so big baby, I don't think I can take that." She said that everytime.

"You can take it baby, I'm gon lower you on this dick nice and slow," he growled.

Her pussy was too wet. Too warm. It was too good.

She sank further onto him. Taking breaks in between.

"Smoke, please just fuck me with this much.. I can't take nomore dick," she begged him.

"Aw baby, you almost there," he wraps his hands around Annie holding her ass open with one cheek and rubbing her asshole slowly, using her pussy juices as lubricant.

She could help but sink down on his dick as he played in her ass. Slightly teasing her hole.

She screamed, "Fuck Daddy! You're so big."

He began to lift her up slowly using her ass cheeks as leverage. Her pussy was so slick on his dick. Dripping all over them. She was riding him so slow, he thought be might cum right then and there.

"Your pussy is so fucking good, I'm gon spend the resr of my life diggin' in you baby," Smoke moaned.

"You like the way I ride that dick daddy? Put your finger back in my ass so I can bust all over you," she was playing a dangerous game.

He teased at her ass making him ride him harder. She's slamming her pussy on to his dick now. He can feel her heartbeat he so deep inside her.

"I love you baby," she whimpers.

"I love you Elijah."

"Your dick is so good."

"You tearing me up Smoke."

"You so deep in me baby, fuck."

She was a wreck. His dick made her dizzy. It was soooo good.

"Annie baby.. I- I'm boutta nut all in your pussy. Your pussy grippin my dick so good," his hips started to buck.

Annied lowered her lips to his ear. "I'm about to squirt all over you daddy. Right there. Don't stop pounding my pussy oh my-," it gushed out of her all over his dick. He fucks her even harder.

"I love fucking this pussy baby, Daddy bout to cum right in you," he grunts.

Annie's slamming her pussy onto him. Over and over. It sounds like a love audience.

"Cum in this pussy daddy. Please nut in me," she begged.

Hammering into her, he releases all cum in her with a string of cuss words to follow.

"Oh fuck Annie, i'm fucking cummin' in this wet ass pussy.. you got the best fuckin pussy baby. You're so beautiful."

They both slow down to look at each other. He's still inside of her. Neither one of them want to part.

Trying to find words, they just stare in admiration.

"I love you, Elijah."

"I love you, Annie."

"You makin' love so easy," the words lazily slipped out of her mouth.

Her head now nestled in his neck.

"That's cause we was meant to be Annie," Smoke grinned.

They spent the rest of the day basking in their "engagement" and making love all over their house.

Exactly the way it would always be.

Just them.

the end.