#pearline

[carouselshotgun]

jayme lawson and miles caton as pearline and sammie behind the scenes of SINNERS (2025)

[bimtimtom]

Pale, Pale Moon

[twistedsistas-stuff]

Do It Together pt2

You know who already😜

The nasty part that was left from part one so buckle in😭🤞🏾

Door clicking shut behind him. Followed by a familiar turn of the lock.

That sound always meant one thing with Elijah it meant the world outside was gone. That door was shut. Locked. Just y’all now.

You swallowed thick, heart knockin’ up against your ribs like it knew who just walked in.

Annie lifted her head, lips slick and smile devil-made. Her lashes were heavy, curls wild like she’d been rolling ‘round in sin. Which, truth be told, she had.

“Well, look what the Mississippi done dragged back in,” she said, voice low and syrup-sweet.

He didn’t answer straight off. Just leaned against the frame, shadow tall, gold tooth flashin’ faint in the lamp glow. He peeled off his jacket slow, rolled his sleeves like he had time to kill and heat to give.

“Y’all got started without me,” he finally said, voice like dusk and dark liquor. “That’s what I get for takin’ the long way home.”

You tried to move—somewhere between sittin’ up and fallin’ back down. Your legs didn’t quite cooperate.

Annie laughed soft, leaned in and kissed your inner thigh like a promise still half-kept. “Don’t get shy now,” she whispered, looking up at you, then back at him. “She still buzzin’ like a wire. Thought I’d keep her warm while you wandered.”

Smoke’s steps were slow and certain across that creaky floor. He crouched down in front of you, hand resting firm against your knee, thumb brushin’ gentle circles.

“You want me in it now?” he asked, voice quiet. Real low. “Or should I just pull me a chair and let the two of y’all put on a show?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as Smoke’s hand slid up your thigh, steady and slow like he had all the time in the world to ruin you sweet. But it wasn’t him you were lookin’ at now.

It was her.

Annie.

She was still knelt beside you, curls wild, lips kiss-bitten, chest rising like she’d been sprintin’ through pleasure. And she was watching you, quiet and waiting, like maybe she knew what you wanted to say but wanted to hear you say it anyway.

Your voice came soft, barely there, more air than sound.

“I ain’t… I ain’t even got a turn to please her yet…”

Annie tilted her head, grin fading into something softer, deeper.

And Smoke—Lord.

He caught it. That whisper. That want. Reached down and gently curled a hand under your chin, lifting your face till your eyes met Annie’s again.

His touch was firm, but kind. Voice just above a murmur.

“Say it again,” he said, that Delta drawl heavy now. “Say it so she hear it.”

You swallowed, heart beatin’ so loud you thought it might echo.

“I—I wanna please her,” you said, eyes locked with Annie’s, that heat crawlin’ up your neck. “Ain’t had my turn yet.”

Annie let out a breath like a prayer and a curse wrapped in one. She smiled then—slow and sinful and soft all at once—and moved closer, reaching out to brush a thumb against your cheek, her touch light but electric.

“Well then,” she whispered, eyes flickin’ to Smoke and back to you. “Go on, baby. Take your time.”

Smoke sat back on his heels, nodding slow like he’d just been handed the best seat in the house.

The bedroom was thick with heat—soft lamplight casting shadows against the walls, the scent of sex and perfume lacing through the air like incense. The old fan turned lazy in the ceiling, doing nothin’ to cool what was already burnin’.

Annie laid back against the pillows, curls wild across her shoulders, legs open like scripture. Her skin glowed warm in the gold light, the kind that made you ache just lookin’ at her. And you—well, you were already between her thighs, knees pressin’ into the mattress, breath ghostin’ over her skin as she watched you like you were a dream about to come true.

Smoke sat across from y’all in the armchair at the foot of the bed, legs spread wide, leanin’ back like a man in his own church pew, gold glintin’ against his chest and wrist, eyes low and steady like he was readin’ scripture in the way your mouth moved.

Annie let out a sigh that trembled through the room as your tongue traced the length of her, slow and reverent. She tasted sweet and sharp—like wine left to sit too long. Her back arched slightly and she moaned, head tiltin’ to the side, lips partin’ just so.

“She like it soft to start,” Smoke drawled from the chair, his voice a velvet thrum that slid down your spine. “Flat of your tongue, baby—not the tip.”

You followed, heart poundin’ and mouth slick. Her thighs quivered a little when you did it right, and Annie’s hand threaded into your hair like she’d been waitin’ on this kind of pleasure.

“Yeah… there you go,” Smoke praised, low and patient. “Now suck—slow, right there.”

Your lips wrapped around her, tongue swirling gentle, and Annie let out a ragged moan. Her hips rolled up toward you, need ridin’ her heavy now. You felt your own body respond—heat coiling low, pulse wild.

“She sensitive right here,” Smoke murmured, pointing subtly toward the swell of her clit. “Ease off and then press in again. Just like that.”

You moved with the guidance, catching the rhythm of Annie’s body like a song you’d known forever. And Lord, did she sing for you—soft gasps, breathy pleas, her voice breaking when your tongue hit just right.

“Goddamn,” she whispered, one leg lifting to rest over your shoulder. “Knew you was sweet… but baby, you mean with it.”

Smoke chuckled low, proud. “She got a gift, don’t she?”

You didn’t answer. You were too focused, lips gliding, fingers easing up to press into her. One at first. Then, when she opened for you like floodgates, you slid in a second—gentle, then deeper. Her head hit the pillow, eyes flutterin’.

“Oh, fuck, right there—don’t stop.”

You didn’t.

You curved your fingers just like Smoke said, let your mouth match the motion till Annie was trembling beneath you, hips locked tight, hands clutching the sheets. Her thighs clamped ’round your shoulders as she broke apart, gasping your name like it was prayer and sin all at once

You pulled back just a little, your lips glistening, breath shallow as you looked up at Annie. Her chest rose like the tide, skin damp with sweat, lips parted like she wanted to ask for more but didn’t wanna beg for it.

Smoke’s voice slid across the room like molasses. “You ain’t never done this before?” he asked, like he ain’t already know.

You shook your head, lips barely brushing the inside of Annie’s thigh. “No, sir.”

Annie moaned at that—at the sir, at the softness of your voice, at the need in it.

Smoke sat forward slow in his chair, one hand dragging over the thick line of his thigh, the other palming himself now, slow and firm. He was hard as hell, watchin’ you both, gold chain sittin’ pretty across his dark skin, glintin’ in the low light.

“Then you doin’ better than good,” he said, voice real low. “But I want you to go back down and use that mouth like you mad at it.”

You swallowed, then nodded.

“Spit on it first.”

Your lips parted. Your body flushed all over. But you did it.

You let a trail of spit fall from your lips to Annie’s soaked heat—watched it mix with what was already there, her slick glistenin’ under the lamp.

“Rub it in,” he said, tone rougher now, his hand movin’ slow beneath his pants. “Slap it once—yeah… just like that. Now taste her again.”

Your mouth closed over her swollen clit, your hand still between her legs, spreading her open. You moved like you’d done it a hundred times, even if this was your first. You found your rhythm again, tongue flickin’, suckin’, moanin’ like it was you gettin’ touched.

Annie cried out, body archin’. “Ooh, baby—fuck—don’t stop.”

“She close again,” Smoke growled from the chair, palm grippin’ himself harder now, thumb draggin’ over the tip as he watched you devour her. “Add your fingers back in. Two this time. Curl ‘em slow—there you go.”

You moaned against her, slid two fingers in to the knuckle and moved slow and deep, just like he said. You kept suckin’ her clit, kept your lips tight around her, tongue workin’ circles as her thighs started to shake.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m comin’ again,” Annie gasped, her voice caught somewhere between sob and scream.

You didn’t let up. Not until she grabbed the pillow behind her head with both hands and damn near screamed your name, body trembling like a chord strung too tight. You eased her through it, mouth slow now, fingers movin’ gentler until she was twitchin’ under you, breathin’ all jagged.

“Shiiit,” Smoke said, jaw tight, hand still workin’ slow in his lap. “You sure this yo first time, baby?

You looked back at him, lips shiny, face flushed, and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“It was,” you said, breathless.

He chuckled low, dark eyes drinkin’ you in. “Not no more.”

Smoke’s jaw flexed, chest rising like he’d been holdin’ his breath this whole time.

“Yeah,” he muttered low, mostly to himself. “That’s it.”

Then he stood.

Smooth, tall, with all that quiet weight to him. The chair creaked when he left it behind, his heavy steps slow as he came toward the bed, tugging that black tee off over his head. Gold chain fell back against his chest with a soft clink, and those pants—already sittin’ low—got shoved down without ceremony. He stepped out of ’em, heavy and thick between the legs, already hard, glistening at the tip.

You froze where you knelt, lips parted. He was too much.

But that didn’t stop you.

“C’mere,” he said, voice low and sharp like a matchstrike.

You rose without thinking, heart hammering, body aching. The second you got close enough, he grabbed your jaw—not rough, but firm—and pulled you into the kind of kiss that made your knees buckle. Deep and wet. Nasty. Tongue all in your mouth like he was tryna find every word you’d ever said about him and claim it.

He pulled back for half a second, just enough to drag his thumb across your bottom lip.

“You taste like her,” he muttered, grinning lazy. “Lemme see somethin’.”

And then—without warning—he kissed you again, only this time lower.

His mouth trailed from your lips to your jaw, down your neck, before tilting your chin up with two fingers and lickin’ his way up your cheek, slow and filthy, catchin’ the shine you left behind on Annie’s skin.

“Mmm,” he hummed, eyes half-lidded. “Messy girl.”

Behind you, Annie let out a breathy moan. “Lord have mercy.”

He turned his head toward her next, eyes on fire now, tongue draggin’ across his own lips like he was starved. “You watch her eat you so pretty, and now you quiet?”

Annie just giggled, cheeks flushed, thighs still twitchin’. “She wore me out.”

He looked at both of y’all then—his women—standing there, open, breathless, fucked-out and still hungry. And Smoke? He licked his hand once, then wrapped it around himself, stroking slow.

“Aight,” he said, voice like thunder in the dark. “Now it’s my turn.”

Oh yeah, baby—it’s time to let Smoke take the reins.

He watched the way Annie’s chest still rose and fell all quick, lips swollen from moanin’, thighs slick and trembling. But he wasn’t lettin’ her off the hook—not completely. Not yet.

“Switch places,” he said low, voice scratchin’ down your spine like a matchstick draggin’ slow.

You and Annie both looked at him, dazed, blinkin’. Annie smiled lazy, breath still caught in her chest. “I… I need a minute, baby.”

Smoke’s lips curled at the corner. He nodded once, but his voice didn’t soften. “Then sit that fine ass up against that headboard right. Legs open. I ain’t askin’.”

Annie moved—slow but obedient—scooting back against the pillows with her thighs parted again, glistening and sensitive. She was flushed all over, eyes flutterin’ when the cool air kissed her skin. You glanced between them both, your own thighs tight, nerves buzzin’.

Then Smoke turned his eyes on you.

“Aight, sugar,” he said, that Delta drawl thick as ever. “Go lean back on her. Back to chest.”

Your lips parted. “Wha—”

“Go.”

And you went.

You crawled up careful between Annie’s thighs, feelin’ her warmth against your back as you settled against her. Her arms moved around your waist automatically, breath ghostin’ over your shoulder. You shivered.

Smoke’s eyes never left the two of you. His big hand gripped the base of himself, jaw clenched like he was barely holdin’ back.

“Now that’s a sight,” he murmured, eyes heavy.

You were pressed against Annie’s body, soft and warm, her hands slidin’ over your stomach, up the sides of your ribs like she couldn’t help herself. Your head leaned back on her shoulder, neck stretched just enough that she could kiss it if she wanted to. And from where Smoke stood?

He saw everything.

He didn’t speak right away. Just sat back on his heels between your spread legs, chest still rising slow from all that work.

Then finally, in that low, drawlin’ voice:

“Damn, I missed y’all.”

He stroked himself slow as hell, takin’ you both in, like he was memorizin’ the image. “You gone stay just like that while I work, you hear me?” he said, voice deep enough to make your toes curl. “Let her hold you… while I fuck the both of y’all proper.”

The words landed heavy in the air.

You blinked up at him, body still hummin’, your breath shallow against Annie’s. She was quiet too, but her grip on your hips stayed tight—like she needed this just as bad.

Smoke leaned forward, one hand reachin’ up to cradle Annie’s face, thumb draggin’ gentle under her lip. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, flushed, still breathin’ like her heart hadn’t settled. He kissed her once—deep and tender, just for a second—then turned his eyes back on you.

“You know you ain’t gotta be shy wit’ her,” he murmured, thumb slidin’ across Annie’s cheek as he brought his other hand down between your thighs.

Your legs twitched when he touched you again—this time with those thick fingers glidin’ slow, preparin’ you, coaxin’ your body to open back up. You were still wet, still throbbin’, but he took his time anyway. Circlin’, slidin’, strokin’ you until your back arched all over again.

“She want you to feel good just like I do,” he said, fingers still movin’ steady, eyes flickin’ between you both. “Don’t hold back, baby.”

He looked down at where his fingers were, lips partin’ slightly.

“Still so ready for me,” he groaned, brows pullin’ together. “This what I missed most. The way you open up for me… easy, like you was made for it.”

Annie let out a shaky breath behind you, hand movin’ from your waist up to cup your breast again, rollin’ the nipple between her fingers. You moaned out soft, your head tiltin’ back on her shoulder.

“Put it in, Smoke,” she whispered, voice low and breathy against your neck.

His eyes locked with yours again.

“You ready?” he asked, voice full of heat but tender underneath.

You nodded, lip caught between your teeth.

His fingers slid out, and he wrapped one strong hand around that thick length, rubbin’ the head against your entrance, watchin’ the way your hips shifted, tryin’ to pull him in.

“I missed this,” he said again—raspy now, jaw clenched. “Missed the way you sound when I first slide in. Missed the way she hold you like she your anchor.”

And then he pressed in—slow—his tip breaching you, stretchin’ you open just like he knew you needed. You moaned loud, body archin’ back into Annie as Smoke sank in inch by inch, deep and sweet and heavy.

When he bottomed out, he stilled, jaw tight, fingers diggin’ into your thighs.

“I got you now,” he said through gritted teeth, leanin’ over you both, his forehead brushin’ yours. “Ain’t lettin’ go.”

Your hands gripped the sheets, breath catchin’ in your throat as he sank deep again, hips slow and grindin’, draggin’ every inch out just to slide back in harder—deeper. You whimpered, knees nearly givin’ out under you, but Annie held you tighter from behind, keepin’ you steady, her lips barely touchin’ your neck.

“Damn, baby,” you breathed out, voice cracked and shaky. “You tryna—fuck—make me cry?”

Smoke chuckled low, dark eyes fixed on where y’all were connected. “Nah, I’m tryna make you feel somethin’. Been waitin’ to get back in this—get back in you.”

“Y-you doin’ it,” you whispered, lips partin’ with another moan when his fingers slid down and found that sensitive bud. “God, y-you doin’ too much…”

Annie giggled behind you, tongue dartin’ out to lick a sweat trail from your jaw. “Mmm, she talkin’ now.”

“You got her breathin’ all heavy,” she teased, kissin’ your cheek. “Bet she ain’t even know she could make them kinda sounds.”

You let out a needy, frustrated whimper when Smoke circled your clit just right, hips rollin’ in time with his strokes. “Y’all—please—this ain’t fair…”

“It ain’t supposed to be fair,” Smoke growled, pickin’ up the pace just enough to make your toes curl. “It’s supposed to remind you exactly who you belong to.”

“Say it,” Annie whispered, mouth on your ear. “Say who you belong to, baby.”

You whimpered again, head fallin’ back on Annie’s shoulder. “I-I belong to y’all… f-fuck, Smoke please—”

“There she go,” he muttered, deep strokes nearly knockin’ the words outta you. “Soundin’ like my girl again.”

You sobbed into Annie’s hand as she gently covered your mouth, lettin’ your cries melt into her palm while he stroked deeper, stronger, that pressure buildin’ up in your belly so fast you couldn’t hold it.

“Let go, baby,” Smoke said low. “Don’t fight it.”

“I—I c-can’t,” you whimpered, thighs startin’ to shake.

“Yes you can,” Annie cooed, holdin’ you tighter. “We got you. Let it out, mama.”

And just like that, you broke—your whole body lockin’ up as you came around him, legs tremblin’, mouth open in a soundless moan. Your body clenched so hard it pulled a grunt outta Smoke’s chest.

“Fuuuck—”

He pulled out quick, pantin’, hand wrappin’ around himself just once, twice—and then he came hard, ropes spillin’ hot across you and Annie’s thighs. His groan was low, broken, his head fallin’ forward to rest against your shoulder.

You were still gaspin’, limbs loose, skin slick with sweat and heat and satisfaction. Annie kissed your temple, her own breath shallow as she held you through the aftershocks.

Then Smoke leaned in, soft as ever now, lips ghostin’ down your chest, each kiss makin’ you twitch. He brought his hand to your cheek, turnin’ your face toward his.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

You did.

The kiss he gave you was slow, tongue lazy but deep, his other hand slidin’ through your curls like he needed somethin’ to anchor him there.

“I missed yall ,” he whispered against your mouth. “And I meant that.”

You blinked slow, lips kiss-bruised and wet. “Y-you better ,” you mumbled, voice hoarse and soft. “Y’all do too much… gon’ kill me.”

Smoke chuckled low in his chest, that deep Delta drawl brushing down your spine like a hot wind. He glanced toward Annie, who was still catching her breath, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy.

“I got more in me,” he murmured to her, voice rough like gravel, full of promise.

Then he nodded at her, a little tilt of the chin. “Come on back over here, sugar.”

Annie moved slow, pulled by something deep in her belly, crawling to him with lips parted, pupils wide. He caught her as she reached him, tugging her close until her back was flush against his chest. His arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her both to him and upright.

Now both of them were on their knees in front of you, breath tangled, chests rising, sweat-glossed skin shining in the low light.

He kissed along her neck, slow and purposeful, his mouth dragging across her collarbone, up to her jaw. Then he turned those burning eyes on you.

“This right here?” he said, his voice quiet but thick with heat. “This how you take what you want, girl.”

His hand slid up Annie’s side, fingers splaying wide on her ribs.

“All that shyness…” He bit down gently on Annie’s neck, pulling a gasp from her throat.

“That shit die right here tonight.”

Smoke’s breath warmed Annie’s neck as he kissed her slow, like he meant to remind her what his absence had taken. Then, with one firm hand at the base of her spine, he guided her forward, slow and sure, until she was down on her hands, breath hitching as her hips stayed raised. His palm rested heavy on her back, holding her there, steady.

“You know what I really missed?” he rasped low, not even looking at Annie now—his eyes locked on you. “This right here. Both of y’all. All that softness. All that fire. Bein’ between y’all like this.”

He rocked into Annie with a deep, controlled rhythm, groaning under his breath, head falling forward. But even through the heat and motion, his eyes never left yours. That grip on her waist—tight. His free hand, stretched toward you, beckoned.

“Come touch her,” he said, voice thick and slow. “She want you. I want you to.”

You moved, hesitant at first, but his gaze held you steady. You reached out, fingers brushing over Annie’s side, her waist, and then lower. She gasped at your touch, pressing back into Smoke with a whimper.

“You feel that?” he murmured, voice breaking a little. “That’s you doin’ that to her.”

Your hand stayed there, guiding her, teasing, comforting. His body met hers with low, deliberate rhythm—like he was claiming space in the room, in both of you. But it was the way he looked at you, sweat sliding down his temple, lips parted like he wanted to speak your name but couldn’t—that was what undid you.

“Don’t look away now,” he said, voice a rasp. “Ain’t no shame here. It’s just us.”

And it was. Just y’all. Breath and skin and heat and sweat. Three hearts tangled in rhythm, and the room felt like it held nothin’ but want and truth.

Smoke’s breath grew heavier, every movement behind Annie deeper, drawn-out, like he was pouring months of missing into each roll of his hips. His hand stayed planted between her shoulder blades, keeping her grounded, hips high just how he liked. But it was you he kept his eyes on, every time his breath caught, every time she whimpered under him—it was you he looked to.

“Look at her,” he said through grit teeth, voice thick with sweat and want. “You see what you do to her? She open for me—but she burnin’ for you.”

You couldn’t breathe right, couldn’t move right—caught somewhere between jealousy and longing, heat pooling low and sharp. Annie’s face turned toward you, lips parted, glossy eyes begging like she was at the edge of something too good to name.

You reached for her, fingers sliding over her jaw, her throat, down between her breasts. She pressed into your palm like it grounded her, made her whole. Smoke’s free hand found your wrist, guided you lower with him, right where they were joined, letting you feel the rhythm of it—hot, slick, real.

Annie moaned sharp when your fingers brushed against her again, trembling from both of y’all now. Smoke leaned closer, mouth at her ear, his voice deep and reverent.

“That’s it, baby. Let her help you. Let us take you there.”

You didn’t even realize you were whispering her name till she gasped it back. Her body rocked harder into Smoke, her hand flying to yours like she needed you to anchor her through whatever was coming.

“Go on then,” Smoke muttered, biting his lip, hips bucking harder. “Come on, baby. Let go. We got you.”

Annie cried out, voice broken as her whole body shook, trembling under Smoke’s grip and your touch. She slumped forward, chest heaving, forehead pressed to the bed like she’d just crossed some holy threshold.

Smoke slid out slow, hands still on her hips. His body trembled with restraint, his mouth parted, but instead of reaching for himself, he reached for you.

“Ain’t done,” he rasped. “Come here.”

You moved without thinking, and he kissed you like a man starved, like you were water and home and the storm all at once. His hand still held Annie’s waist, but his mouth devoured yours—slow, deep, a little desperate.

“I missed this,” he said against your lips, voice gone raw. “I missed you.”

Annie stirred behind you, wrapping herself slow around your waist from behind, lips pressing soft into your shoulder. Her voice was barely there, sleepy but sweet: “You next, baby.”

And in the heat of that room, limbs tangled, mouths swollen, eyes wide and wanting—there was no past. No shame. Just the now. Just y’all.

—————-/

I couldn’t leave yall hanging💕

[lambf4rm]

pearlineeee

[theforswornelite]

[itsaaudraw]

we’re all sinners

[verified-villain-fxcker]

They deserved better.

[sammick]

absolute cinema

the SAMMIEYYYYYY👹👹??? the electric guitar going crazy????the way his eyes are glowing??? the oscars are being engraved rn atp

[silverhandenthusiast]

Me if I had Blade or Buffy-level Stats as soon as Remmick walked through that door:

remmick was getting his ass beat the whole movie 😭

[aintnoloveintheheatofthesun]

Come see excellence

This film takes place from Saturday morning to early Sunday. Considering that Pearline just learned Sammie's name at the rail station, this boy moved fast. He saw his window of opportunity and he went for ittt

Think about it: these two were flirting, kissing, dancing, getting nasty and slaying vampires together the same day they met. On some power couple, star-crossed lovers type shit.

Preacher Boy achieved in less than 24 hours what her man couldn't in what? Months? Years? We don't even know how long she was married. Or what that mf called.

In conclusion, her husband ain't shit.

[marieafronette]

we got not one, but four women who had some good eaters, munchers, cunnilingus experts, up in that cooze. love to see my girls taken care of. thank you, Ryan

[twistedsistas-stuff]

Speakin In Tongues

SmokeStack x Reader

A Collab with @themindfulwriter16

Pt. 1/?

The bell cracked through that mornin’ like judgment day thunder, but most folks was already in they seats, fannin’ themselves with Blue-Back Readers and whisperin’ low ‘cross slates. Sunlight poured through crooked windowpanes, dust floatin’ like ash.

You was second row, center—good for learnin’, or for watchin’ Elias Moore cut up, if you was feelin’ weak in the will.

The door slammed open hard enough to shake chalk off the board.

“Miss Collette,” Elias hollered, hands raised like he walkin’ into church, “forgive me, for I have overslept!”

Class groaned. He strolled in grinnin’, suspenders hangin’, shirt wrinkled, sock rolled funny, wildflower behind his ear.

Miss Collette didn’t flinch.

“You oversleep every mornin’, Elias.”

He flopped into his desk. “That’s ‘cause my dreams treat me better’n this classroom.”

Some boys snorted. You tried not to smile.

Miss Collette huffed. “Alright then. Let’s see who still laughin’ when y’all get these test papers back.”

Silence flipped on like a switch

She walked the rows passin’ pages folded like secrets. At Elias’s desk, she paused.

“An F,” she said. “Didn’t even finish the back.”

Elias squinted. “Finished it in spirit. Besides, Miss C, I told ya—I ain’t got no use for Italian. I talk just fine.”

“You talk too much.”

“Exactly. Ain’t tryin’ to muddy up my mouth with no ciao bella nonsense. Sound like what a white devil whisper ‘fore he steal your land.”

The class cracked up. Even Miss Collette’s mouth twitched, but she kept movin’.

You shook your head, peeked back. He leaned in that chair, hummin’ lazy, hands laced behind his head like he ain’t had no failures to his name.

Then he caught your eye. Tilted his head. Smirked.

“Mornin’, lil sugar,” he murmured.

You blinked. He winked.

Ain’t flinch none. Elias Moore could set a room on fire and still walk cool.

But you? You was steady.

Miss Collette dropped your paper with a big red A+.

“Now this here,” she said, holdin’ it up, “is what preparation look like.

She ain’t turn, but you felt the sting travel back like a paddle swingin’.

Behind you, he shifted.

“Well damn,” Elias muttered, “ain’t never been nobody’s bad example before.”

More chuckles. Miss Collette snapped her ruler.

“Language, Elias.”

“Just buildin’ my vocabulary, ma’am.”

She leaned on your desk. “Some of y’all might follow in her steps if you’d hush and learn somethin’. No doubt.”

That hung heavy.

And for once, Elias went quiet.

Class moved on. But behind you, he was still. Watchin’. Thinkin’. You didn’t turn.

Not yet.

When class let out, benches scraped, books closed, whispers filled the room.

You caught him watchin’.

No grin. Just watchin’.

Still sittin’ when he said it, soft but sure:

“Don’t worry, sugar. I’ma catch up to you one day.”

You ain’t turn.

But you paused.

Miss Collette clapped once. “Mr. Moore.”

He jumped. “Ma’am?”

“If you gone speak to her, it better be for learnin’ purposes only.”

Some boys hollered. Elias smirked

“But I am learnin’. She smarter’n you, ain’t she?”

“She prepared. Maybe if you’d shut your trap, you’d graduate ‘fore you thirty.”

He picked up his test. “Finish school for what? So I can talk like them folks out East? Say things don’t taste right in my mouth?”

“You need this class to graduate.”

He stood, slow and calm. “Ain’t it funny? They stole our tongue, gave us new ones, and told us to be grateful.”

He looked at you.

“You ever think maybe we already talk how we s’posed to?”

You looked up.

And for a second, he wasn’t clownin’. Just a boy who knew himself.

Miss Collette’s voice softened. “Every language is a key, Elias. You ain’t gotta use it. But you best know how to hold it.”

He smiled, crooked. Shrugged. “Well… if I gotta learn, might as well learn sittin’ next to her.”

Miss Collette sighed. “Alright then. You insist? Fine.”

She looked at you.

“You’ll tutor him.”

You straightened. “Miss Collette, I—”

Elias leaned in, syrup-sweet. “Don’t fuss, sweetheart. I’m real hands-on when I study.”

Class oohed.

Then—clap.

From the back, Sammie Moore dapped Elias.

“Ain’t no damn way,” he hollered, “you ‘bout to be gettin’ ass and education in the same sittin’!”

Room exploded. Chairs knockin’, hands slammin’.

You rolled your eyes.

“Sammie Moore, you a vile thing.”

He grinned. “Don’t be mad, sugar. We all just tryna graduate with honors.”

Elias buried his face, shoulders shakin’.

Miss Collette banged her ruler. “Enough! Sammie—I’m callin’ your mama.”

“Tell her I said hey.”

The bell rang.

You gathered your books. As you passed Elias, he leaned close.

“See you after class, Miss A-plus.”

You ain’t look at him. Just walked out.

Sammie called after: “Boy better show up with his homework and a Bible!”

⸻

Lunch bell rang loud and grateful. Folks poured out the schoolhouse like heat out an oven—some runnin’ barefoot, others draggin’, already tired. The air smelled like earth and fried okra snuck in a tin.

You and your girls walked together—books hugged close, braids tight, brows unbothered. Pearl on one side, Mabel on the other, all three of y’all in step like a march.

Y’all wasn’t loud.

Wasn’t silly.

But when y’all came ‘round that corner near the boys’ table under that leanin’ pecan tree?

The whole yard looked up.

“Now look at this,” Elias drawled, leanin’ back with a hunk of cornbread and mischief in his mouth. “My favorite professors.”

You didn’t pause. Just kept walkin’.

Mabel chuckled. Pearl rolled her eyes.

“Y’all eat today?” he called after y’all. “Brains burn more calories than bodies, I heard.”

“You would know,” you tossed back, “seein’ as you ain’t fed neither.”

Whoop from behind the tree. Elias slapped his knee.

“Ain’t she cruel?” he gasped. “Got venom in that velvet voice.”

You ain’t blink—till you did.

Cause behind him, leanin’ in the shade like he was carved from it, stood another one.

Same slanted eyes. Same dimple.

But different.

His gaze wasn’t wild. Wasn’t loud.

It was slow. Still.

And fixed on you.

You hesitated—just a beat.

He pushed off the tree like he’d been waitin’.

“Don’t mind my brother,” he said, voice smooth like a record playin’ low. “He don’t know how to act ‘round beauty.”

Pearl’s brow lifted. Mabel nudged you.

You blinked. “Brother?”

He nodded. Stepped in easy—not cocky, just sure.

“Folks call me Smoke,” he said. “Elijah, if we bein’ formal.”

He took your hand like it was glass. Kissed the air above your knuckles.

You blushed. Just a second.

Then your spine straightened like a hymn note.

“Well, Elijah,” you said cool, “I hope you act better than your brother.”

He chuckled, low. “Can’t promise that. But I’ll try.”

You clicked your tongue, holdin’ back a smile.

Pearl grinned big—eyes soft on Sammie, who was sittin’ with lunch forgotten, starin’ at her like she’d read his diary.

You ain’t even have to ask. You knew that look.

That me too gaze that got girls caught up.

You looped your arm through hers and pulled her gentle.

“Come on, Pearl.”

She came easy.

The boys didn’t call after y’all.

Didn’t have to.

They just watched.

Admired.

Y’all wasn’t shy, book-buried, head-down girls.

Y’all was dream-beautiful. Riverbank clay skin. Edges laid, ribbons tied. Perfume warm like honey on the stove.

You gave them one glance.

And right at the steps, you turned—just a flicker.

Caught Elias’s eye, that mischief still sparklin’.

He looked at you like he was waitin’ on you to say his name in a dream.

You smirked.

And walked on inside.

—————-

The bell rang low and lazy—just a reminder time was passin’ whether you kept up or not.

You moved steady down the hall, books in your arms, list in your head—history text, composition paper, that dictionary heavy as a baby. You had half a mind to swing by the library ‘fore class let back in.

But fate—and gravity—had other plans.

Your elbow knocked wrong—

Crash.

Books scattered. Pages fluttered. That fat dictionary flopped open like it gave up.

You sighed. Squatted down, already mad at yourself—

Then saw ‘em.

Polished shoes. Creased slacks. Scuff on the left toe like he’d been kickin’ rocks.

You ain’t even need to look up.

“Don’t say nothin’ slick,” you muttered.

“Wasn’t gone say nothin’,” Elias said, crouchin’. “I was just… lookin’ for you.”

He helped gather your books, brushin’ your fingers on purpose.

You narrowed your eyes. “What for?”

“To study,” he said. “Or we could study each other.”

You blinked. Rolled your eyes. “Lord.”

He just grinned, slid in the last loose page. Stood when you did.

For a second—chest to chest, breaths lined up.

You shifted, books hugged tight.

He held out his arms. Waited.

You ain’t say nothin’. Just… dropped ‘em.

All of ‘em.

Right into his arms.

He staggered a step. You raised a brow. “Too heavy for ya?”

He huffed, bounce-lifted the stack. “Girl. I can carry these books and you.”

That caught you. You laughed—real, sudden, loud enough to echo.

His eyes lit up like dusk lanterns. He looked like he could live off the sound.

You turned. “You comin’, Mr. Moore?”

He jogged to catch up. “Yes ma’am. Lead the way, Miss A-plus.”

Y’all walked in step all the way to the library. And this time, you ain’t stop him from lookin’.

⸻

It was quiet in the study room—not soft, but like a rule.

You spread your notes neat—Italian phrases in long cursive, conjugations circled.

Elias kicked back across from you, eyes trackin’ your lips more than the words.

You pointed at the page. “Ripetere. Say it.”

He squinted. “Rip… reaper?”

“No. Ri-pe-te-re.”

“Rib-betta-ray?”

You stared. “You butcherin’ that word like it owe you money.”

He grinned. “Sound like somethin’ I’d whisper to a girl behind the schoolhouse.”

“This ain’t that,” you warned.

“Aight, alright…” He sat up. “What’s this one?”

You pointed. “Mi piace… It means ‘I like…’ Follow it with whatever you like.”

He leaned in.

“Mi piace… quando parli piano e mordi le labbra.”

Your eyes snapped up.

“What’d you just say?”

He grinned. “Said I like when you talk soft and bite your lip.”

“That ain’t in the book.”

“Ain’t all of me dumb.”

You leaned back. “You know this already.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the book like a hole.

“Why you failin’ then?” you asked, softer. “You pretendin’?”

He sighed. “I am strugglin’. You don’t get it. That stuff don’t come out my mouth right. I sound stupid.”

You stared.

“I mess up a word, and I’m just another fool from nowhere.”

Your heart thudded. You reached across the table, slow. Touched his cheek, turned him toward you.

Your voice stayed firm.

“Ain’t nobody callin’ you stupid in this room. Not even you.”

He blinked.

You pulled back and tapped the book.

“Now say it again. Mi piace.”

He swallowed.

Then said it.

Soft. Clearer. Like it belonged in his mouth.

⸻

Y’all had been seein’ a lot of each other.

Same library table every afternoon. Same book. Same boy tryna hide his smile when you leaned close.

Elias started showin’ up on time. Fresh shirt. Even brought his own pencil—mostly to twirl.

Still, he was tryin’.

And the strange thing was…

You didn’t hate it.

“You know this,” you said one day, pointin’.

He didn’t look down. “Posso portare i tuoi libri.”

You tilted your head. “Meanin’?”

“I can carry your books.”

He smirked.

“And you, if you ask nice.”

You tried not to blush.

Failed again.

⸻

Folks started noticin’.

Pearl nudged you on the steps one day. “That boy startin’ to shine like a new penny. Ain’t jokin’ as much. I think you done tamed Elias Moore.”

You snorted. “Still a clown. Just educated now.”

“Mhm,” she said, poppin’ gum. “Boy look at you like he learnin’ more than Italian.”

Inside, Sammie and Smoke sat in the back, passin’ notes and commentary like church pews.

“You see how my cousin look at her?” Sammie said, crackin’ up. “Boy gone fail on purpose just for more lessons.”

Smoke chuckled low. “She sharp, though.”

⸻

Test day came.

Classroom tight with nerves. Paper rustlin’, slates clickin’. Miss Collette movin’ down the rows passin’ out fate.

Under the desk, his foot nudged yours. You didn’t look over.

But you felt the grin in your bones.

Bell rang. Elias leaned back like he just finished preachin’.

You whispered, “You better not fail.”

He leaned closer. “I ain’t. You ain’t let me.”

The hallway buzzed with scores.

Miss Collette passed out tests face-down. Elias flipped his. Froze.

Then stood up fast.

“Ha!” he shouted. “Look at that!”

B+. Red ink

The class clapped. Sammie whooped. Pearl beamed.

“Boy passed and actin’ like he got baptized,” she teased.

Elias turned, holdin’ the paper high. “She the reason. Couldn’ta done it without her.”

You rolled your eyes, blushing. “Could’ve if you applied yourself sooner.”

He stepped in close, voice low just for you.

“I been applyin’ myself.

To you, sweetheart.”

————————

Ayeee this is GONNA BE LONG but worth it stick around babies💀🤞🏾💕

[belleofthefloor]

When the mac and yams are touching😍 such beautiful women

[darkcrowprincess]

If Pearline is willing to cheat on her husband with the first genuinely sweet boy she meets. That says more about the husband and I can't blame her. Especially considering the time period. I also don't blame her because that boy is Sammie. He's literally a sunshine music boy. Of course she'd love him.

[enticingmelanin]

Fire We Make: A Modern Smoke x Annie Fic

Fire We Make || Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie (modern au)

This is Part 2 of the Savor Series.

Rating: E for Erotic.

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

Word Count: 7k+

Summary: Smoke and Annie’s bond has only deepened since fate reunited them in the city. Their emotional, mental, spiritual, and physical chemistry keeps their love burning bright. But when they attend the grand opening of Pearline’s, the heat between them proves impossible to tame. Some flames flicker. Theirs? Blazes.

𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞━━⊱⋆⊰━━𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞

Melodic humming filled Smoke’s bathroom as Annie applied the finishing touches to her makeup. Soft and radiant, her look accentuated her natural beauty—subtle shimmer on her lids, feathery lashes, and a gentle highlight that kissed her cheekbones. Her hair, now an older perm rod set, was pinned back into a romantic bun, a couple of loose spiral curls framing her face like poetry.

It had been eight months since they’d rekindled what was once lost—and they were stronger than ever. Life didn’t slow down for love, but they adapted, carved out time, made each other a priority. Zariah’s was always buzzing, fully booked, while Smoke and his family had poured heart and soul into building their lounge from the ground up. And finally… tonight was the night Pearline’s would be born.

Annie practically glowed as she moved through his space, excitement in every graceful step. As she reached for her MAC Ruby Woo lipstick to match her dress, a giddy hum vibrated from her lips.

“Ready, baby doll?” came that gravel-smooth voice from the bedroom.

“Yep, just puttin’ my lipstick on,” she replied, gliding the bold red pigment across her plush lips in one fluid stroke.

From the corner of her eye, she caught his silhouette in the doorway—leaned against the frame, watching her like she was art. His eyes roamed her slowly, appreciating how she mirrored his sharp red suit with that stunning dress.

The dress—a vintage-inspired scarlet gown that clung to her voluptuous frame. The satin hugged her curves, dipping low at the bust to reveal some cleavage, then cinched at her waist before flaring softly over her hips. A thigh-high slit flashed glimpses of smooth brown skin and hinted at the strappy red heels she wore underneath. Her body looked sculpted by the ancestors, and the way she moved in it? Like she knew she was unforgettable.

Suddenly, he was behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing himself flush against her back. His lips found her neck, placing slow, reverent kisses on her skin. A soft giggle escaped her as she leaned into his warmth.

“You look so damn good, we might not make it out the door,” he murmured against her ear, their gazes locking in the mirror.

Annie hummed, the corner of her mouth curling into a smirk. She turned to face him, arms draping around his neck, her breasts pressing against his solid chest. “As do you, but you can’t miss the grand opening, Mr. Owner. This is the night we’ve all been waitin’ for.”

Smoke let out a low sigh, trying to pull himself back from the edge. “True… I’d never hear the end of it, especially from Stack. But...” His voice dipped, rich with promise. “Just know I’m puttin’ these pretty lips to work later.”

He leaned in to kiss her, but she pressed a finger to his mouth, stopping him with a glint in her eye.

“Mm-mm. Not messin’ up my lipstick,” she whispered. “Plus… it'll give you somethin' to look forward to.”

She leaned in and slowly ran her tongue across his lips—teasing, taunting—before slipping away with a playful strut toward the doorway.

Smack!

His hand landed firmly on her ass, making her gasp mid-step.

“Elijah!” she scolded, breath catching in her throat.

He just grinned. “Better pray I behave tonight or you'll be screamin' that all night long.”

The fire between them crackled and Annie silently hoped she could tame the heat long enough to get through Pearline’s grand opening.

Slowly, the black Escalade rolled to a stop in front of the entrance, its paint gleaming under the moonlight and glowing building lights. Annie smiled at the long line of guests wrapped around the corner, all dressed in their finest. Their childhood friend, Cornbread, stood tall at the head of the line in a black tux as the bouncer of the evening. A bold neon sign in soft red script read “Pearline’s,” its light casting a sultry blush across the rich brick exterior. A red carpet trailed from the doorway like an enticing welcome.

She was lost in admiration when her car door swung open.

“Thank you, ba—” she started, then stopped, blinking as the face staring back at her wasn't Smoke's, though it was identical.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You can admit you always liked me more,” Stack teased, grinning wide with those infamous gold-capped pearly whites, a toothpick dancing at the corner of his mouth. He wore the same tailored red suit as Smoke, but his button-down was black—sleek and sharp in contrast.

Annie shook her head, laughter already bubbling up. “Boy, you’re a menace,” she said, taking his hand as he helped her out of the truck. She pulled him into a warm hug.

“And you love me for it,” he replied, placing a quick kiss to her cheek.

“Nigga, you wish my woman liked your ol’ country bumpkin ass,” Smoke called out, rounding the front of the truck, that signature smirk playing on his lips.

Stack raised both hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face. “Sounds like the pot callin’ the kettle, big brother.”

“Stop terrorizing them, Elias,” came a soft, amused voice from behind him. Mary stepped up, all grace and calm. Her hair was styled in loose waves that framed her heart-shaped face, eyes bright and lips painted a subtle rose. The slinky rose gold dress she wore clung to her figure, shimmering with every step, the open back catching the warm glow from the lights behind her.

She pulled Annie into a hug with an easy elegance. “You look beautiful, love.”

Annie smiled. “So do you.”

The twins greeted each other with a dap and a tight hug before ushering their women inside.

Annie’s chocolate eyes widened the moment they stepped through the doors.

“Babe…” she breathed, rooted in wonder.

“Ain’t she a beauty?” Smoke replied, his voice laced with quiet pride.

Pearline’s was opulence made intimate. Deep ruby velvet chairs hugged black marble tables, each topped with crystal glassware and lush centerpieces of red roses. The walls were a glossy black laced with gold detailing, reflecting the soft, amber glow from the grand chandeliers that hung like golden galaxies above.

The stage was commanding—elevated, dramatic, framed by heavy crimson curtains that spilled like wine to the floor. A spotlight illuminated the center, while plush banquettes circled the space, giving every guest a perfect view.

Just then, a six-piece live band stepped onto the stage, dressed in crisp, classic black. The pianist flexed his fingers, the upright bassist plucked a note that hummed through the velvet-draped air, and the horns tuned in harmony. The rhythm promised something sultry, something smooth, something alive.

“Y’all got a hit on your hands,” Annie exclaimed, her eyes still soaking in every plush detail. “That line is gonna be wrapped around the city with people desperate to get in here after tonight.”

“That’s the idea,” Smoke replied, his smile slow and warm as his hand found the small of her back. The pride in his eyes wasn’t just for the lounge—it was for her. For everything they’d built together, in their own way.

“And once Pearline and Sammie hit the stage,” Mary added, her voice dipping into that sweet Southern twang as she glanced toward the velvet-draped platform, “they just might burn the roof down.” She let out a low whistle, the excitement dancing in her tone.

Stack smirked and nodded toward the back left corner with a casual flick of his chin. “Speak of the devil.”

Annie followed his gaze—and there they were.

Pearline stood poised in the corner, a tall glass of champagne in hand, dressed in floor-length black satin that shimmered like oil under the low lights. Her deep brown skin glowed under the chandeliers, and her natural hair was sculpted into a soft, elegant updo that showed off her high cheekbones and expressive eyes. She looked like every jazz song ever written about heartbreak and romance.

Beside her was Sammie wearing a charcoal-gray three-piece suit that fit like it was made just for him—shirt open at the collar, no tie. A soft gold chain peeked beneath the fabric. His guitar case rested against the corner of the booth like it had its own seat, and the way he leaned into Pearline, eyes low and easy, made it clear the stage wasn’t the only place they made music.

They were magnetic, undeniably so.

Mary squealed in excitement, eyes lit up like stage lights, and grabbed Annie’s hand without warning. “Come on!” she laughed, tugging her toward Pearline and Sammie.

Smoke shook his head, a crooked grin pulling at his lips. “Every damn time,” he muttered fondly as Stack chuckled, hands in his pockets, following behind them to join the growing group hug.

“I can’t wait to hear y’all’s new music,” Annie said, pulling back from the embrace, her eyes warm with admiration. She turned to shoot Smoke a teasing scowl. “He wouldn’t say a peep about it. Been keepin’ secrets.”

“Confidentiality clause,” he said with a smirk. “Artist privilege.”

The double doors opened behind them, and the low hum of conversation began to grow as guests trickled in—heels clicking against the marble floor, silk and perfume trailing through the air. Waiters dressed in black-on-black uniforms glided between tables, ushering people to their seats with ease.

“Looks like you won’t be waitin' too much longer,” Pearline said, giving Annie a playful wink. “It’s showtime. We’ll see y’all in a bit.” Her smile lingered as she looped her arm through Sammie’s, and together they slipped backstage.

The two couples made their way to a table positioned front and center—the table, with an unobstructed view of the grand stage. The plush crimson chairs hugged them in comfort as they settled in, the golden glow from the chandeliers bathing them in a warm, flattering light.

Classic jazz poured from the band now set up onstage—the kind of melodies that made you close your eyes and sway slow without realizing. The saxophone crooned like it had a heart of its own, mixing perfectly with the clink of glassware and soft laughter around the room.

Their table was a feast of elegance and indulgence. Thanks to Annie—who Smoke proudly insisted be listed as a partner—Pearline’s menu had soul and sophistication. Small plates filled the table like a love letter to flavor—oysters Rockefeller resting in gleaming shells, crab-stuffed mushrooms steaming beside golden catfish fritters, sliders layered with Wagyu beef and caramelized onions, honey roasted carrots, and baskets of parmesan truffle fries still hot to the touch.

The twins nursed their negronis, dark and bitter with just enough bite, while the ladies sipped lemon drops—tart, sweet, and chilled nicely.

“This is what luxury tastes like,” Stack said, popping a fry into his mouth and leaning back with a satisfied hum.

Mary raised her glass toward Annie. “That’s ‘cause our girl knows what she’s doing.”

Annie just smiled, letting her fingers trail over the base of her glass. “Only the best for y'all.”

After a moment of savoring their food and enjoying each other's company, the band’s saxophonist stepped forward, mic in hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, the soul of Pearline’s—Miss Pearline herself!”

The lights shifted, casting a warm spotlight on the stage just as Pearline emerged from backstage. She strutted toward the mic stand with slow, sultry confidence. Her presence alone commanded the room. She grasped the microphone with intention, her fingers adorned with delicate gold rings, while Sammie joined the band—his foot stomping to start the beat of the song. The rest of the band followed suit, feet thundering in unison like a summoning drum, ushering her into the music.

Then, her voice—rich, raw, and velvet-smooth—cut through the air.

"Ooh, ooh Mm-hm, mm-hm Mm-hm, mm-hm Oh, pale moon rising over the pines, come Lawd away until the sun does rise Leave the day by the, by the door, I don't Care if sun don't shine once more, that's what I said"

A current surged through the lounge. Even Smoke, usually the embodiment of cool restraint, found his fingers tapping against his glass, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. The crowd came alive—feet stomping, hands clapping, the rhythm infecting every corner of the space.

As Pearline’s hips swayed and her voice soared, she stepped down from the stage gracefully, weaving through the crowd. She didn’t just perform—she shared the song. Women stood to join her, drawn into the spell she cast. Mary was on her feet first, dragging Annie with her as laughter bubbled from both of them.

“Y’all better move!” Mary yelled over the music, her curls bouncing as she hyped Pearline up.

Annie laughed, joining in the stomps and claps, her red dress hugging her curves with every twist and sway. Pearline moved between them, harmonizing with two background singers as the lyrics rang out.

"Ain't no love in the heat of the sun Keep on workin' 'til the dollar's won From the crow of the rooster to the morning dove Sing my song when the day is done"

The final note lingered in the air, followed by an eruption of applause, whistles, and the low hum of delighted conversation.

“Girl, you did that!” Annie praised breathlessly, grabbing Pearline’s hand in a high five, her eyes shining with pride. She felt like a proud big sister watching her shine.

Pearline beamed, her smile radiant as she glided back up to the stage and gently returned the mic to its stand. Sammie stepped forward, looping an arm around her waist.

“Give it up again for my baby y’all!” His voice boomed with pride, deep and smooth. The room answered in cheers as the couple shared a soft, lingering kiss, earning more whistles and playful teasing from the crowd.

Pearline swayed back toward the girls, her energy still electric, while Sammie stayed center stage.

“So clearly,” he said with a chuckle, “this place is named after the woman I love.” He looked across the room at Pearline, his eyes softening. “Seems only right, considerin’ the only thing I love almost as much as her is music.”

More “awws” and whistles followed, and he winked before continuing. “I gotta thank her, Annie, and Mary for their unwavering encouragement and partnership. And last but certainly not least—my cousins Smoke and Stack. They more like my brothers, and I wouldn’t wanna build this place with anybody else.” His gaze landed on each of them, voice thick with emotion. “Don’t know where I’d be without their guidance, love, and support.”

The ladies blew him kisses while the twins lifted their glasses in salute, proud and still grinning.

Sammie chuckled. “Ya see, we come from a lil ol' town in Mississippi named Clarksdale. Back home they call me Preacher Boy, on account of my daddy bein’ a man of the cloth.”

Laughter rippled through the audience.

“He used to say if I kept dancin’ with the devil, meanin’ the blues, one day he’d follow me home.” He paused, eyes glinting with mischief. “But far as I can tell, all blues ever brought me was freedom.”

He slung his guitar over his torso, adjusting the strap as the room grew still with anticipation.

“So this one’s for my daddy. Hope y’all like it.”

He plucked the strings with soulful ease, the guitar crying out in rich, aching notes.

“Somethin' I been wantin’ to tell ya for a long time... It might hurt you, hope you don’t lose your mind..."

The band joined him, stomping their feet once more, pulling everyone into the rhythm of his truth.

"Well, I was just a boy, ‘bout eight years old You threw me a Bible on that Mississippi road See, I love ya, Papa, you did all you could do They say the truth hurts, so I lie to you Yes, I lied to you I love the blues…”

Sammie’s voice poured out like honey over gravel—rich, aching, and smooth. It wrapped around the room and didn’t let go. The men nodded in quiet agreement with the beat, their expressions solemn and knowing. The women, drawn in by the slow pull of the music, swayed their hips seductively to the beat.

Annie felt Smoke’s stare heavy on her backside, his gaze smoldering. She didn’t need to turn to know Stack was doing the same to Mary, who twirled a lock of hair between her fingers and grinned to herself.

“Mm-mm Ohohoh, mm-mm Hey! Somebody take me in your arms tonight, well alright”

The crowd whooped and clapped as Sammie hit a powerful high note with effortless control. An older gentleman, known to most as Delta Slim, took his place at the keys. With fingers smooth as silk and sharp as razors, he played like the piano owed him money. He was family—more uncle than friend to the twins—and his presence alone raised the soul of the room.

“Sang, baby!” Pearline called out proudly from the sidelines, hands cupped around her mouth.

"Somebody take me in your arms tonight”

“Wheeew, boy! We ’bout to make us some money!” Stack hollered, his deep laugh booming as Smoke shook his head, chuckling low beside him.

“I hope you can stand it, stand it all ‘Cause what I’m out here doin’, you didn’t preach at all See, I’m full of the blues, holy water too I know the truth hurts, so I lie to you So preach on, speak your words I know the truth hurts Yes, I lied to you I love the blues I love the blues...”

As the song moved into its final stretch, Sammie stepped closer to the edge of the stage, lifting his hand to direct the audience.

“Sing with me now…”

The crowd followed eagerly, humming and swaying, the entire room moving like one being.

“Mm-hmm Mm-hmm Mm-hmm Yeah, yeah, yeah Hey, hey, oh Mm-hmm I know the truth hurts Hey Lied to you Somebody take me in your arms!”

The crescendo hit like a wave, his voice crashing through the air with such force it felt as if the very windows would burst. Plates vibrated, silverware tingled, and hearts pounded in unison with the beat. Applause exploded before the final note had even fully landed.

Annie blinked back tears that welled in her eyes as chills ran up her spine—not of sadness, not even pride. It felt ancestral. Like spirits of their kin had gathered in joy, hands clapping and feet stomping with them. She quickly dabbed her eyes and clapped, joining in the thunderous standing ovation as Pearline’s heels clicked fast across the floor, arms flung wide to embrace her man.

“I knew Lil Sammie could sing,” Mary hollered over the music as the band struck up a light, jazzy number. “But I ain’t never heard nothin’ like that before.”

“Me neither,” Annie laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Now I see why Smoke kept his mouth shut. That was the best-kept secret, that’s for sure.”

They giggled and clasped hands, spinning each other on the dancefloor like carefree girls in love with life. Laughter spilled between them, joined by the warmth of good company and good food.

But just as they slowed their pace, Mary’s smile dropped, her eyes narrowing at a figure near their table.

“Now I know she sees that ring on his finger,” she said, annoyance evident in her tone.

Annie followed her gaze. A woman with legs too long and a dress too short stood much too close to the twins. Stack was leaning back, twirling a toothpick at the corner of his mouth with a smirk. Smoke, stoic as ever, puffed slowly on a cigar, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

Annie’s brow arched. “Mmm,” she hummed before strutting toward them, Mary on her heels.

“You boys twins?” the woman asked, her voice syrupy and too sweet. Smoke nearly rolled his eyes while Stack let out a soft chuckle, amused.

“Nah,” Stack answered dryly, his smile slow and sly. “We cousins.”

The woman giggled, clearly unfazed. “That was silly of me. Of course y’all twins. Fine ones at that.”

Annie nearly scoffed aloud but caught herself.

Girl, you tried it.

“They sure are,” Annie chimed in smoothly, stepping in with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Mary cozied up to Stack, his arm slipping naturally around her shoulders. Annie’s eyes locked with Smoke’s. He raised the cigar to his lips again, but she took his hand, guiding it—and the cigar—toward her mouth. Her crimson lips wrapped around the tip briefly, pulling a slow drag before blowing a stream of smoke in soft rings toward the ceiling.

His eyes darkened, the tension between them crackling like static.

“Hi, baby doll,” he murmured, enthralled. His gold open-face caps glistened under the warm lighting against his teeth.

“Hi, daddy,” she purred back, voice velvet and warm. “Who’s this?”

Smoke barely glanced at the woman. “Oh... uh. What was your name again?” he asked absently, like someone trying to remember what they had for breakfast.

“It’s April,” she snapped, her smile faltering with the realization that she was now completely ignored.

At that moment, Sammie and Pearline reappeared near the front of the stage, preparing to begin a duet.

“Well, April,” Smoke said casually, still not looking at her, “if you’ll excuse us, we’re gonna go dance with our beautiful wives. Have a good night.”

And just like that, he guided Annie toward the dancefloor, Stack following suit with Mary, leaving April dumbfounded in their wake.

Annie’s heart swelled as she rested against him, her heart full.

Wife.

The word echoed sweetly in her ears. She gazed up at his face, lost in him, eyes wide and full of love, the way a woman looks at a man who makes her feel like she’s the only thing that matters in the world. That's exactly how he made her feel everyday.

She never placed marriage on a pedestal—refused to, really, in defiance of the conditioning women had been fed since birth. But with a man like Smoke—a man who respected her, saw her, and always moved with her best interests in mind—marriage didn’t feel like some risky fairytale. With him, it felt natural. Like breathing.

Pearline and Sammie began singing a cover of Fire We Make by Alicia Keys and Maxwell—sultry, smooth, and perfectly tailored to their voices. The chandeliers above dimmed and shifted into a seductive crimson hue, bathing the room in heat and longing. The air felt thick with it.

Smoke pulled Annie flush against him in the center of the dancefloor, his arms wrapped tight and possessive around her waist as they began to sway in sync with the rhythm.

"Hey baby how you doing tonight I wanna let you know, I wanna tell just how I feel Don't wanna love you baby and it's going so right I wanna burn a candle, turn the darkness to the light With the fire we make, it's getting hotter and hotter"

Their eyes stayed locked, unblinking. The lyrics weren’t just music—they were confessions they both had yet to communicate. Annie’s stare was full of hunger and heat, but also anchored in something deeper. Love. Safety. Want. It stirred something primal in him.

Smoke’s brow quirked, and he leaned in, his voice low, rough velvet against her ear. “You keep lookin’ at me like that, cousin and Pearl won’t be the only ones givin’ a show.”

Annie bit her lip, pelvis tightening at the wicked thought of the kind of show he meant. “Just thinkin’.”

"Hi baby, wont you tell me the truth You wanna be the one, you can't stay away Hey darling, don't you mean no excuse We can chase this on, and burn the hole inside you From the fire we make it's getting hotter and hotter Like a moth to a flame, I can't stay away With the fire we make it's getting higher and higher Like the night to the day I can't stay, I can't stay away"

“’Bout what?” he asked, eyes scanning her face like he already knew.

He reached up and gently untangled the gold earring dancing against her jaw, his fingers trailing the delicate curve of her neck. She shivered.

“Wife,” Annie said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

His own smile mirrored hers as he smoothed a tendril of hair back behind her ear, then traced her cheekbone with his thumb like a man memorizing scripture.

"This abyss of the world and it takes us to the stars It's getting higher and higher It's the fire we make it's the fire we make Getting sweeter and sweeter Like a night to a day I can't stay away, say is, no no"

“I’m not takin’ this second chance with you for granted,” he said, voice low but steady. His eyes locked onto hers with devotion. “Those years without you? They felt hollow. Nobody’s ever seen me the way you do. And I’ve never tried to understand anybody the way I try to understand you. I spent that time fuckin’ up, learnin’ from it, becomin' the man I always wanted to be... the man I wish my father had been.”

His grip on her waist tightened slightly, grounding himself in her. “It all led me back to you. I ain’t sayin’ we gotta rush... but I know what I want and that's to be your husband.”

Her breath hitched, tears gathering in her eyes. Every word burrowed into her soul and settled there. “I want that too,” she said, barely above a whisper. “On one condition.”

He smirked. “What’s that?”

“I’m hyphenating my last name. It’s a piece of Mama I’m never giving up.”

Smoke nodded without hesitation. “Of course. But don’t think I’m proposin’ to you in the middle of this lounge,” he said with a grin, brushing his lips across her forehead. “When I do, you’ll know it. And you won’t be sharin’ that day with anyone or anything but me.”

He turned her in his arms, pressing her back against his chest. She relaxed into him, eyes fluttering shut as his lips found the crook of her neck and shoulder. The brush of his beard against her skin sent a shiver down her spine.

"I wanna tell you, I wanna love you, I just wanna stay with you I can't be done, just can't stay away, I wanna make so much fire with you Baby I wanna go, gonna go, to you darlin' Yeah yeah"

The crowd erupted into applause as the song ended, but Annie and Smoke didn’t even notice. They were still moving, still caught in each other’s pull like gravity.

Smoke gently cupped her jaw, guiding her gaze up to meet his. “I love you... so much.”

“I love you too,” she said, eyes dropping to his lips. And before either of them could say another word, she kissed him—deep and hungry, lipstick be damned.

A low grunt rumbled from Smoke’s lips as he kissed her back with just as much fire. His arousal pressed hard against her ass, thick and undeniable, making her moan softly into his mouth. It felt like they were the only two people in the room—like time had slowed and spun around just them. But as much as he wanted to take her right then and there, the thought of anyone else laying eyes on her in that state made his jaw tighten.

He slowly pulled back from her, reluctant but determined. Before she could even ask, he was already taking her hand, leading her upstairs with purposeful strides into a sleek, modern office space. She barely had time to admire the clean lines and dark wood finish before his strong hands cupped her breasts through her dress, massaging them with hunger. The seat of her thong was soaked with need, her arousal only heightening under his touch.

There was no more saving it for later. Later was now—and the urgency of it, the risk of being heard or even caught, sent a fresh thrill down her spine. The music from the band downstairs would likely cover any sounds, but the chance someone might hear? That alone made her wetter.

She gasped when her breasts were suddenly bare, cool air kissing her sensitive skin. Smoke had undone the bow at the nape of her neck without her even noticing. Her back arched involuntarily as his fingers worked her nipples, rubbing and twirling them until they stood firm, aching for more.

“Can daddy have his pussy now, sweetheart?” he murmured low and thick in her ear, voice coated in lust. “You been temptin’ me all night.”

A breathy moan escaped her. “Yes,” she answered, voice laced with anticipation. Then, with a teasing smirk, “But I thought you said you were puttin’ these pretty lips to work. Had a change of heart?”

That made him pause. A glint sparked in his eyes.

Without a word, he stepped away, walking toward the glossy black office desk. Still holding her gaze, he peeled off his suit jacket and draped it neatly over the back of the leather chair. Then, without breaking eye contact, he undid the buttons of his shirt with quick, precise flicks, metal clinking as he unfastened his belt next. A swift unzip of his slacks and shift of his boxers later, his thick, long dick was in his hand, slowly being stroked with deliberate rhythm.

Annie’s mouth parted slightly, damn near drooling at the sight.

“Thank you for remindin’ me,” he said, voice low and smooth like molasses. He curled his finger at her, beckoning. “Now… come over here so I can do just that.”

He didn’t have to tell her twice. Annie strutted toward him, eyes locked on his thick length. As she stepped between his legs, his hand reached up, fingers wrapping gently around the front of her neck to pull her into a ravenous kiss. Their mouths moved together in feverish hunger, moans exchanged as their tongues danced and tangled. Her left hand braced against his thigh while the right traveled up to his dick, fingers wrapping around it and stroking with slow, twisting motions.

Smoke grunted at the contact, eyes fluttering shut briefly before he released her neck to let her work. She loved this—pleasing him, taking care of him. The act was intimate, powerful, grounding. Just like him, she’d go to the ends of the earth to make the other smile, to bring peace, pleasure, joy. It was always mutual—physical, emotional, soul-deep.

Red lipstick prints marked a sensual trail down his muscular torso as she lowered herself to her knees. The layers of her dress fanned out around her, giving her just enough cushion. Her hand kept stroking his shaft while her lips wrapped around the swollen head, delivering slow, savoring sucks. His head fell back, bottom lip caught between his teeth, breath short and sharp.

Annie moaned as she sucked him deeper, her hands now splayed against his strong thighs. Smoke’s hand slid to the back of her head, fingers splayed as their eyes met once more.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he muttered, voice hoarse, hips subtly rocking in rhythm with the sultry number the band played downstairs. He began thrusting into her mouth, slow but deliberate. Pleased with the praise, Annie moaned again, the sound vibrating down his shaft. She relaxed her throat, letting him hit the back as she matched his pace, one hand sliding to gently cup and massage his balls.

Smoke let out a low, guttural groan. “Fuck… mmm. You want daddy to cum in that pretty mouth? Hm, baby doll?”

“Mhm,” she purred, his length muffling her voice.

Wet smacks and slick suction sounds filled the office as she devoured him like a woman on a mission. Her saliva spilled down her chin, dripping between her breasts. An idea sparked in her head.

His shaft throbbed against her tongue as his climax neared, and just before it hit, Annie pulled back with a sultry gleam in her eye. Rising onto her knees, she cupped her full breasts and sandwiched his slick shaft between them. Pressing them tightly around him, she glided them up and down his length.

Smoke hissed through his teeth. “Shit…”

She knew how much he adored her breasts—touching them, sucking them, burying his face in them—but this? This was new. And her boldness wrapped around his restraint and yanked.

“Fuck, girl…” he muttered, jaw tight as his hips began to thrust, titty-fucking her with increasing urgency. He slipped his thumb between her lips and she sucked it without hesitation, eyes locked on his like a challenge.

Then with a groan, his release hit—warm ropes of cum coating her chest as he growled, “Oooh, such a good fuckin’ girl.”

His thumb slipped from her lips with a soft pop, then wiped the spit trailing down her chin. He cupped her jaw, pulling her into a deep, possessive kiss. Their mouths melded in a passionate exchange before his hands dropped to her waist, gripping firmly as he maneuvered their bodies to switch places with practiced ease.

Now with Annie’s back to him, Smoke didn’t waste a second. He yanked her thong down with urgency, bunching her dress around her waist. Her breath hitched as cool air kissed her exposed skin, followed by the warm press of his fingers against her slick folds. Her moans spilled out instantly.

Meanwhile, Annie swiped two fingers through his cum on her chest, trailing it to her nipples and circling them teasingly, adding another layer of stimulation.

“Mmm... wet ass pussy,” he murmured against her ear, voice low and raspy as his hand slid up to gently grip her throat. “She needs me, doesn’t she, baby?” he asked before slipping two fingers inside her, deep and deliberate.

She whimpered, her knees nearly buckling as her eyes fluttered shut. “Oh fuck... yes, daddy. Please,” she begged, voice trembling.

Smoke pressed soft, adoring kisses to her cheek, her jaw, the length of her neck—watching her every expression. He was under her spell. Watching her unravel was his favorite part of making love to her. It never lost its thrill, and he knew he wanted to watch her come undone like this for the rest of his life.

“There’s somethin’ I need from you first,” he said with a smirk in his voice.

Before she could ask, his fingers began pumping her harder, faster—precise strokes against her spongy g-spot while his palm repeatedly brushed against her clit. The sudden intensity ripped a high-pitched squeal from her.

She knew exactly what he wanted.

And she didn’t fight it.

Because what daddy wants, he gets.

Her orgasm tore through her like lightning, thighs shaking as her release splashed onto his hand and down her legs, wetting the hardwood beneath them in a small puddle. Her hands slammed onto the desk to keep her balance. Had it not been for the band playing below, their guests would’ve easily heard the symphony of moans and cries raining down from the second floor.

Annie whimpered and shuddered as the aftershocks seized her body. “Hmmmm, shit!”

Smoke’s low, satisfied chuckle rumbled against her ear. “Good girl,” he praised, gently stroking her sensitive pussy, helping her glide back down from the high he'd so expertly pulled from her.

Once she had calmed down, delicate kisses trailed up the top of her back to the base of her neck. A shiver rolled through her as she felt the thick, bulbous head of Smoke’s dick gliding teasingly through her slick folds, gathering her wetness but not yet entering her.

Before she could beg him to fuck her, his grip tightened—right hand clamping down on her shoulder while the left took hold of her waist. With one powerful pull, he guided her back onto his shaft as she bent forward.

She hissed through her teeth in pleasure. “Oooh, yes, baby,” she moaned, long and needy, her eyes rolling back before fluttering shut. Every girthy inch of him filled her slowly, every ridge of his shaft dragging against her aching walls with maddening precision.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, watching as his dick disappeared into her, coated in her arousal. The wet clap of their bodies meeting echoed off the walls as his pace quickened. Their moans wove together, rising and falling like a sensual melody, each thrust drawing them deeper into a euphoric haze. But it still wasn’t enough. No amount of her ever was. Annie always left Smoke hungry for more—starving even.

He gripped her right leg and lifted it, bracing her knee on the edge of the desk. The position made her spread wider, fully open, utterly his. He drove into her harder, deeper, fucking her like he couldn’t get close enough.

The sound of her moans, the rhythm of their breathing, the heat between them—it all built into something wild and consuming.

“Mhm, that’s it. Gimme this pussy,” he grunted, landing a sharp smack on her ass. Her walls pulsed around him, gripping him tight as creamy white arousal gathered at the base of his dick.

“Yessss, cream on it,” he groaned with another slap. “Show me how much you love this dick, baby.”

Annie whined, her breath catching with each relentless thrust. His deep strokes and filthy praise had her unraveling, the ache between her thighs twisting tighter and tighter.

“Da-Daddy… uunh!” she whimpered.

“I got you, baby. Give it to me,” he urged, voice low and commanding. She couldn’t deny him if she tried.

“Elijah…” she gasped, her nudey pink nails clawing at the desk for leverage, trying to ground herself.

He leaned down, tongue dragging up the sheen of sweat along her spine to the nape of her neck before planting a kiss there.

“That’s right,” he growled against her skin. “Tell them who you belong to.”

His name poured from her lips like a prayer as she shattered—body trembling, pussy quivering around him in a tight, uncontrollable climax. Her orgasm consumed her, every nerve lit and raw, her voice caught between sobbing moans and broken cries.

Smoke’s restraint crumbled. He bit his bottom lip hard, fighting his own release as he continued to pound into her. But he needed more.

Suddenly, he pulled out and swiftly turned her over, laying her flat on her back. His hands pushed her thighs up and back, opening her wide again.

“Just one more, baby,” he murmured, slipping back inside her like he never left.

Her cries floated up to the ceiling—soft, wrecked, overwhelmed. She hadn’t even started to recover, and already he was digging for that spot that made her scream. One hand clutched the back of her thigh, the other gripped his forearm like an anchor.

Her eyes clamped shut just as his fingers found her clit, strumming it in time with his strokes.

That was it. The fire between them exploded into an earth-shattering orgasm.

“Fuck, Annie,” he groaned with one final, powerful thrust as he emptied himself deep inside her. Their moans tangled together in a raw, perfect duet.

Breathless, he collapsed forward, capturing her mouth in a slow, loving kiss. His fingers brushed the damp tendrils of hair from her flushed face, reverent even in the afterglow.

After a few more kisses, Annie felt the absence of his warmth. The soft click of the office bathroom door let her know where he’d gone, but she hadn’t yet summoned the strength to lift even one eyelid. Her body still hummed, boneless and spent.

Minutes passed, then her hips jerked slightly at the sudden warm pressure between her thighs.

“Shhh, baby,” Smoke soothed, crouched between her legs with a damp cloth. She whimpered quietly, still tender, still sensitive. He moved with care, wiping her down with featherlight precision.

A second cloth followed, warm and wet, this time dabbing the sticky mess from her chest with the same patience. She swore she could feel the pride in his touch—like he was handling something sacred.

When he finished, his hands enveloped hers and gently pulled her upright. He kissed her—slow, soft, and lingering.

“I promise I’ll put you to sleep when we get home,” he murmured against her lips. “Now, go pee. I’ll grab your bag.”

And with that, he turned and slipped out, quietly closing the door behind him. Somewhere in the haze, she realized he’d already redressed.

She sighed deeply, letting the moment sink in, before finally peeling her eyes open and rising to her feet. Moving gingerly, she made her way to the bathroom.

After flushing the toilet, she washed her hands and paused to study her reflection.

Messy lipstick? Check.

Tousled hair? Check.

Thoroughly fucked and utterly in love?

Check. And check.

A giggle bubbled up from her chest. Smoke made her feel so damn free—unapologetically herself. She used to think she could never do something this bold, this wild, in public. But with him? She felt protected. Cherished. Unleashed.

As she reached for the straps of her dress, the door opened. Smoke reappeared with her purse in hand, setting it gently on the marble counter.

“Let me,” he offered, stepping behind her.

She let go of the fabric and he took over, retying the straps into a secure bow at the back of her neck, adjusting it until her breasts sat right. Then his arms wrapped around her middle and his chin rested on her shoulder, eyes locked on her reflection while she touched up her makeup.

She giggled, tossing him a playful kiss in the mirror. He smiled, slow and genuine, his thumb brushing across her hip absentmindedly.

A few moments later, she gave herself one final once-over and turned to him. “Good?”

“Perfect,” he replied without hesitation.

He took her hand, fingers laced, and led her back downstairs.

As they reached their table, Sammie and Pearline were seated, happily indulging in a new round of small plates. Across from them sat Stack and Mary, looking equally satisfied.

“Y’all make me an uncle while y’all were gone?” Stack asked with his signature slick smirk.

A round of muffled laughter and exchanged glances swept through the table.

Smoke turned to his twin, one brow arched high. “Aye, Mary,” he called, eyes still on Stack.

“Yes, brother?” she answered cautiously, already sensing the trap as she glanced between them.

“How’s that storage closet ceilin' holdin’ up?” he asked, wearing a near-identical smirk.

"Oop," Pearline squeaked under her breath.

Mary gasped, hand flying to her mouth as the memory of her recent midday quickie with Stack hit her like a runaway train.

“Oh, you playin’ dirty now,” Stack said, chuckling and shaking his head.

“Checkmate, lil’ brother,” Smoke replied coolly, and the whole table erupted in laughter.

The night flowed on in easy rhythm—full of laughter, good conversation, and the low hum of live music. Annie and Smoke stayed close, attached at the hip. He kept his promise when they returned home, rocking her to sleep in every way he knew how.

And just before sleep claimed him, his thoughts drifted to the little black velvet box hidden in the back corner of his walk-in closet.

To be continued...

𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞━━⊱⋆⊰━━𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞

Is that wedding bells I hear? I hope y'all loved this as much as I loved writing it. I had the Sinners soundtrack playing as I got lost in this. I HAVE to go see it again. Glad I saw it in IMAX first. Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think. I love hearing from you guys. xoxo

𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞━━⊱⋆⊰━━𝄞₊ ⊹₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ˚₊⊹ ₊𝄞

Taglist:

@slvt4her @wanderingreigns @avoidthings @xjjawsomex @that-one-anxious-mango @wabi-sabi1090 @nubiawrites @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @kianaleani @slutsareteacherstoo @slyy-foxx @dxddykenn @moujg @naughtynolly @wildcardmelaninfreak @pocketsizedpanther @wabi-sabi1090 @styleismyaddiction @novahreign @transparentphantomface @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @babymelaninn @jasmynn05 @notapradagurl7 @starcrossedxwriter @irefusetobeacasualty @bigjh @syko-jpg @akjonthebeat @margepimpson @diamondsinterlude @brownsugarcoffy @shamansha @samiecemonet-blog @nebulamilkyway

[blackfilmmakers]

They were all so amazing 👏🏾 👏🏾 👏🏾