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fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this

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This was the prettiest scene in the show so far btw. Her bisexual lighting and sleepover metaphors have captivated me.

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i really appreciate episode four of the bear. our culture is so significant to us and seeing syd connect with her blood family was so heartwarming. ayo and lionel did their big one!

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ISO

people based in Los Angeles to play dnd with please we're slowly fading away (serious inquiries only)

edit: must be based as fuck.

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New S4 clip : Marcus and Carmy

Source : Lionel Boyce on MSNBC

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Thinking about how stacks last words were "Smoke, I'm so scared. Love you."

Thinking about how Smoke pulls up Stack's pants to give him some dignity.

Thinking about how as he pulled up Stack's pants, he probably thought about dressing Stack to lay him to rest in his favorite suit and that may be part of the reason he snapped "this ain't no dead body, its Stack" at Annie to correct her and himself.

Thinking about how despite clearly telling Annie he doesn't believe in her hoodoo hours before, even cheap shotting her with asking "why didn't it protect our baby", he begs her for her power and skill to bring Stack back.

Thinking about how Smoke sits there holding Stack, his brother's blood covering him like the heaviest sin he's ever had to bear, not keeping Stack safe.

Thinking about how Smoke had gold on his teeth too on the other side, but we never get to hear people talking about it because he doesn't speak much and doesn’t smile until the very end, holding his daughter.

Thinking about how Smoke seems to almost view Stack's death as his own failure. How he can't go through with staking his little brother and cuts a deal. And how in doing that, Smoke allows himself to go handle Remmick, and later the Klan.

Thinking about how Smoke chose to stay behind and get rid of the klansmen. How all those people in the juke died on his watch, and he gets the opportunity to eliminate one more threat, and the excuse to not go on with the grief of being alone.

Thinking about Annie being the narrator even though the story doesn't follow her. Thinking about how she could be recounting the story to her baby while they wait for papa.

Thinking about Annie's wisdom and skill saving them at multiple points.

Thinking about how they all defer to Annie at once, no questions, and never dismiss her.

Thinking about how Annie's wisdom would have gotten them through the night. How Remmick saw that and knew that the weak links were going to be Grace and Smoke, playing their loved ones and facts against them.

Thinking about how Remmick seems to remember from cornbread in particular that Annie is clever and is thus a threat.

Thinking about how even though Annie is using Divination to foresee any hope, when she doesn't she meets that with understanding and grace as she tells Smoke what has to be done.

Thinking about how close Annie must have been with Mary. Mary was devastated enough to break the hive mind, and have Stack attempt to get her to safety.

Thinking about how no nonsense but still compassionate Annie and Smoke were.

Thinking.....

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fascinating thing about sinners is how absolutely doomed the narrative is.

like okay if sammie hadn't gone to the juke joint, remmick probably wouldn't have shown up. but then the klan would have. okay smoke took those assholes out solo, if it was him and stack maybe they could have handled it. well the juke joint would have shut down in a month because no one had any real fucking money because of the sharecropping scrip. not to mention two seperate mobs are on their way to fuck the twins up (what do you MEAN you robbed al capone??). okay maybe they covered their tracks, well they're still in the fucking jim crow south and stack and mary have a cool 35 years until loving v virginia so best case scenario is he's broke and watching the love of his life from afar until he's 70. plus annie implied the twins were on borrowed time anyway since she'd been quietly protecting them the whole time they were gone.

idk it both adds to the horror that there was no way out and just solidifies sammie saying it was the best day of his life, like that one little perfect moment was all they were going to get anyway

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HAPPY PRIDE MONTH YOU QUEERS!!

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Finally watched Sinners and honestly I’m convinced I watched a different movie than most of y’all did because Remmick was fucking annoying.

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thank uou for showing me your little white boy i do not like him can you put him away please

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BOTTOMS (2023) — dir. Emma Seligman

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just a lil' something, smoke.

summary: no matter how hard he tries to reject your advances, smoke always gives in. after all, you know his body like no other.

pairing: smoke x reader, platonic stack x reader.

warnings: use of the n word, allusions to sex, making out.

notes: first time writing in a couple months !!! literally had no plot with this one i just went straight off the bag lmao. also this isn't proofread at all!

It wasn't uncommon for you to find your way to his arms. Usually it would all be under his control; he'd call on you, he'd tell you what to do and you'd happily oblige. It went on like that for some time.

Only, you never got used to Smoke's hard exterior.

You thought that with time, you'd be able to read him better, but it seems it only become more difficult as time went on.

You and Smoke had been messing around for some time now, ever since he first laid eyes on you at a neighbourhood event he and his brother were "just passing by". But when he and Stack left for Chicago, all that went away.

You didn't expect the invite to the twins' new juke joint to find you, but there you were at the train station with Pearline when Stack found you.

"I ain't seen you in hot minute," he grabbed at your hand and twirled you towards him, ever the flirt. Your light pink sundress spun with you, frilly and light with air.

"Alright, Stack, let me go," you laughed, pushing at his chest. You turned around to check on Pearline, seeing her smiling at the twins' cousin, Preacher Boy. "What brings you back? Chicago too hard for you?"

"Girl, ain't nothing too hard for us," Stack waved you off, kissing his teeth. "We jus' wanted something a lil' more... familiar."

You rolled your eyes at him, whatever that meant.

"Say, we're having us an opening party tonight. Smoke and I got ourselves a new joint," a smirk graced Stack's face as you held a more quizzical look.

"Oh really? And whose pockets did you pick to get that new joint?"

"You want an invite or not, 'cause the way you goin', you gon' get blacklisted before it even open," he tilted his head to look down at you, his hat shadowing his face a bit.

"Alright, alright," you laughed. "I'll be there."

"Damn right," he smiled. "Imma tell Smoke too, that nigga sure could loosen up a bit."

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes at the mention of his brothers' name, whom you haven't seen since the night he told you he was leaving for Chicago, more like the night you found out rather than got told.

*

It was around 10pm when you got to the joint, the sound of music and laughter drawing you in. You couldn't lie to yourselves, the boys had outdone themselves on this one. Cornbread was at the door when you arrived, a smile on his face as you walked closer.

"Well, if it ain't lil' missy herself!" He laughed aloud.

"Hey Cornbread," you smiled, wiping away a curl from your face.

"Go on in, Stack an 'em expecting you."

By 'them' you assumed he meant Preacher Boy, who was with Stack when he extended the invite to you.

Walking in, the smell of food hit you straight away. The lights shone on everyone, illuminating faces and figures, some that you knew, some you didn't. Your eyes were looking for a certain someone's, never seeming to find them.

"I knew you'd come," you heard Stack before you even saw him. He swung his arm over your shoulder, a drink in the same hand. "You look good."

"You don't clean up too bad yourself," you patted his chest, a bright smile on your face.

He smiled back at you, gold caps glinting when they caught the light. "Aight, let's get you a drink, hm?"

He didn't give you tike to respond, walking you towards the bae section of the joint. You saw Annie behind the counter and a few others behind her.

"Hey Annie," you greeted her with a civil smile, to which she returned. Things between you and Annie weren't the best, but they weren't bad either. You knew better than to blame Smoke's personality towards you on the other woman in his life, especially because she'd been with him longer than you had.

You pulled out a few crumpled notes from your bra, but before they could even hit the counter, Stack had snatched them.

"Man, get that pocket change outta here," he said, pointing the cash back at you.

"Huh— I'm buying myself a drink, Stack, give it back." You huffed when he held it away from you again.

"It's on the house," he nodded at Annie, who grabbed a cup and filled it, handing it back to you.

"I thought y'all ain't do charity?" you laughed, accepting the drink nevertheless.

"It's a special night, and plus, you one of the few I like," he kissed your cheek, leaving as quickly as he found you, not before he stuck your cash under the strap of your dress on your shoulder.

You shook your head, moving through the crowd with your drink, smiling back at those who greeted you.

You found yourself a little corner to watch the stage and everyone else, leaning against the thick wood as you let the drink flow through your body. As you tipped your head back to drink more, your eyes caught his.

Of course, he was upstairs, watching over everyone else. His eyes stared right back at you as he took a drag of his cigarette, the smoke he exhaled wafting through the joint. You didn't break the eye contact, staring back at him as you drank from your cup.

It felt like you were staring at each other for ages, but seconds later he tipped his head to the side, gesturing for you to come up. Then he disappeared into a room.

Your breath hitched, your hand taking to your collarbone to ease the burn of the alcohol. You didn't know what to expect, things with Smoke were almost always unpredictable.

Regardless, you put the cup down and made your way slowly up the stairs to where you last saw him, adjusting the silky navy blue dress that you wore as you went.

The music was quieter upstairs, slightly muffled by the foundations and thickness of the room's doors.

You stood outside the room before knocking twice on the door, opening it shortly after.

His back greeted you, toned arms begging to be relieved from the slightest tightness of his shirt and waistcoat. He still had the cigarette, though when he turned to you, you knew it was only a matter of time before he ashed it.

You didn't say anything, leaning on the back of the door as you watch him.

He studied you for a bit, and that's when you really saw him for the first time in what felt like forever. His chiseled face, sculpted with time and effort. Those eyes that never seemed to soften, only at times when you got him loose enough to let go, just for a bit.

"Whatchu doin' here?" He said, startling you from your thoughts. You didn't expect that to be the first thing he said to you, but then again this was Smoke, he didn't care what he said to who.

"You told me to come up here, didn't you?" you smiled back sweetly, enjoying the feeling you got when you got under his skin.

"Stop sassing," he mumbled, ashing the cigarette at the end of the wooden desk.

He took a seat on the same desk, folding his arms across his chest.

"How you been, then? Didn't hear much from you these past days," you couldn't care less about how he was, and he knew that. You just wanted the truth and the honest truth.

He didn't answer you right away, simply allowed himself to eye you up and down. The way the dress hugger you perfectly, the navy blue on your melanin skin, the way it was cut low on your chest to expose just a little cleavage... he was enjoying it. Almost like it was just for him.

"You ain't got no where better to be?" He changed the topic again, much to your annoyance.

You let out a bitter scoff, already regretting following Smoke into the room. "You told me to meet you in here. Don't act like you didn't, Smoke," you kissed your teeth.

One thing about Smoke, he didn't do attitudes, regardless of whether or not he deserved it.

"Come here," he spoke to you softly, which should've alerted you if anything. Instead, you allowed your legs to take you to him standing right in front of his taller figure.

His hands rested on your waist, pulling you into him. Now, you stood between his legs as his eyes stared into yours.

"Why'd you leave, Smoke?"

He sighed but didn't act surprised, like he knew this was where the conversation would go. Your hands made their way to his broad shoulders, massaging gently.

"You already know why I had to go, business don't wait for no one."

You huffed at his answer, pulling back as much as you could whilst still in his hold.

"That's not what I'm talking about, and you know it."

"What else you want me to say?"

You look at him then, really looked at him. "I want the truth. Why'd you leave me? When you was just saying all that stuff about wanting to be better for me an' all... It makes no sense."

Smoke looked away from you when you said that, but you still felt his fingers dragging up and down your waist, almost like he was making sure you were real, that you were still in his hold.

When a few moments of more silence passed, you pushed away from him, ready to go back down and pretend none of this even happened.

But Smoke didn't let you. He turned you back around in his hold, your chest against his back. His head dipped down to your bare neck, kissing along. His beard tickled, but you found yourself too busy almost melting into him to register it.

"You scare me sometimes," he mumbled, so quiet you almost missed it.

"What?" you whispered, eyes fluttering closed. "When was you scared of anything?"

"You're too... good. I'on know how to handle that." He was speaking honestly now, and it made sense why he turned you away from him to say this. Smoke never shower any vulnerability. You thought he was immune to it but it turns out he just never wanted anyone to see that side of him.

"Smoke..." you trailed off when he began to suck and bite at your neck, eliciting the faintest of moans from your lips. You pressed back into him, needing to feel more.

"I had to leave. Not because of you but you know I ain't good for you... I'on know why you can't understand that." He brought his left hand to your throat, tipping your head back into his shoulder as he spoke. Your eyes closed, suppressing the lewd sounds threatening to escape. He was barely touching you yet already had you like this? Insane.

"I don't care about that, Smoke." You managed to get out.

"Yeah, well you should." The way he said it sounded almost like a laugh. "You don't make no sense, baby."

He was right. Smoke wasn't the type of guy that a lady should keep chasing if she knew he didn't have what she wanted. Yet you, you kept trying. And that's what confused him.

He did everything to throw you off of him — use you when it pleased him, shut you out, literally everything he could think of. But it seemed to only make things between you stronger.

You forced yourself out of his grip and turned around, now looking him right in the eyes. He could see how hot and flustered he got you.

"I do make sense. I always tell you what I want, it's you who acts like he don't know what he wants." Your hands caressed his face bringing his forehead to rest on yours.

Smoke closed his eyes, his hands cupping your ass as he held you against him. He shook his head, seemingly about to say something before he pulled away.

"Stop," you frowned. "Stop forcing yourself away from me."

"I have to," he grunted, looking anywhere but at you.

Still, you pulled his face back to your, making him look back at you.

"You know you want to," you whispered, dropping a hand from his face and down to his pants, stroking over his clothes bulge. Smoke groaned lowly, throwing his head back. "Give me a lil' something, huh, baby?" you asked sweetly. How could he deny that?

He brought his hand back to your neck, pulling you in til your lips touched his. You moaned almost immediately, it had been way too long.

Smoke kissed you like he would never get the chance to do it again, pulling you impossibly closer to him whilst one of your hands held the nape of his neck, the other still palming him.

He lowly moaned into your mouth when you pulled away slowly, biting his lip. You left him do what he did best, take control.

He turned you around, lifting you up to sit on the desk, his hands roaming all over your body. "You're something else," he whispered against your lips as you fumbled at the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt.

"Yeah, you love it, don't you?"

You felt him smile against your lips, just ever so slightly. If anything, that told you he wasn't ready to let you go. Not just yet. And that was enough for now.

He broke away from your lips to kiss along your neck, your head thrown back in pleasure as your legs wrapped around his body. "Smoke..." you whispered.

"Yeah, baby?" he kissed along your jaw, your hand wrapped around his throat as you pulled him closer to your face.

"I always get what I want."

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Rest in peace Toni Morrison. You would’ve ADORED sinners

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comfort zone, modernau!smoke.

summary: just smoke spoiling his girl.

pairing: modernau!smoke x fem!black reader

warnings: some descriptions of reader, cunnilingus, also munch!smoke because we all deserve it.

notes: this sinners brainrot will not leave me alone and i love it !!! also we hit 100 followers after just a couple days... i love you all so bad 🫶🏾

It was around 6 in the evening when Smoke came home to you. He'd been away in Atlanta for two days, a business trip as usual. You knew what he did, the type of people he worked with and what that came with. You didn't really care because at the end of the day, the most important thing to you was your relationship with him.

Everyone knew him as Smoke, but to you he was just Elijah. As soon as he walked through the huge doors to your shared home, he stopped being Smoke and Elijah came out instead.

Whenever he was away, you'd usually occupy yourself with something just fine. Going out with your girls, catching up on your own work, visiting family and so on. Anything to help take missing him off of your mind.

Today, as you waited for Smoke to come back, you decided to get a manicure. A little touch up on your nails could never hurt. It didn't take too long either, a half hour drive there and back in just under two hours. God, did you love your nail tech.

You had them done blue, Smoke's favourite colour on you.

You lounged around the house waiting for him, your only other companion being the small rottweiler puppy that Smoke had gifted to you. He whined as you patted him, rolling over next to you.

"I know, baby, daddy's coming home soon." You frowned, scratching behind his floppy ears.

The sound of keys turning in the door had those floppy ears turning straight real quick. Before you could even turn your head to the door, your puppy was already there, scratching at the back of it whilst Smoke attempted to get through.

"Man, move───" he muttered, trying to get through with a bunch of shopping bags and a puppy nipping at his legs.

You smiled, a part of you exhaling a sigh of relief that he'd come back to you in one piece.

It was never easy to see Smoke leave, the thought of him never coming back to you was always looming over your head. But just like he always reassured you he would, he came back seemingly fine.

You walked towards them, Smoke's facial features gradually relaxing at the sight of you. "Hi," you spoke smoothly, your arms around his neck as you pulled his face towards yours, kissing his lips.

You took a moment to run your hands over his body, the black compression shirt that he wire doing wonders for him. It always drove you crazy.

"Hey, baby," he kissed you back, dropping the bags gently on the floor giving his hands space to grab at your ass. "You been good?"

"Mhm," you answered, letting your nails scratch gently at the back of his neck. That always did the trick. You looked down at the puppy by your feet, breaking away to pick him up. He was getting heavier as each day went by.

You held him up to Smoke's face. "Say hi to your son, Elijah."

"That ugly ass thing ain't my son," he kissed his teeth, waving you off as he started moving the bags into the living room.

Laughing, you carried your puppy to its playpen, giving you snd Smoke some peace of mind for now.

You came back to find him emptying his pocket contents on the coffee table: gun, wallet, keys, and stacks of money. Instead of putting the money on the table with the rest of his stuff, he walked over to you.

He pulled the strap of the tank top that you wore, using it to tuck the money into your bra.

"What's this for?" you smiled, looking up at him. He was always giving you money randomly, various amounts for various reasons.

"For looking pretty," he kissed your cheek. "That's for you too," he nodded his head towards all the shopping bags that he brought in.

Your eyes followed to the bags, feeling so much appreciation overwhelm you. Smoke's love languages were most definitely gift giving and acts of service; he would use any and every opportunity to spoil you, but the minute you bought anything for him, he'd be telling you off for spending your money on him.

"You didn't have to," you pouted, sitting on his lap as you kissed all over his face. "You spoil me too much, I don't even have space for it all."

"I don't spoil you enough," He mumbled, kissing you back. "Come on, do your lil' try on thing you always do for me." He tapped the back of your thigh.

You giggled, "You mean a haul?"

"Yeah, that."

And that you did. Smoke had gotten you bags, clothes, lingerie, new makeup products... things you already had but according to him, could never have enough of.

You tried on each item, except for the lingerie. You said you wanted to surprise him with it another day, and he wasn't complaining.

At the end of your haul, Smoke helped you put everything away, making a comment to himself about having to expand your walk in wardrobe.

Now you two lay on the bed, cuddled up as a random show was on the TV. You loved moments like these, when he was yours. Not the rough Smoke that everyone else knew him as, but as your soft and loving boyfriend.

"You good?" Smoke stopped rubbing his hand gently on your body when he noticed you let out a sigh.

"I'm more than good," you smiled dreamily, like you were drunk just off of his affection.

He took your word for it, lifting your body onto his. His hands wrapped around your lower back whilst your chin rested on his chest, looking right at him.

"You know I love you, right?" He said.

"Yeah. I love you too."

Smoke smiled, his large hands squeezing at your ass. "And I love this ass too."

"You can never stay serious, can you?" You laughed, reaching back to move his hands. Instead, he flipped the two of you so he was now on too, your hands pinned on either side of your head.

"You know damn well how serious I can be."

And that you did. There was only a handful of times when Smoke had gotten serious with you, times when he was more Smoke than Elijah with you. One of the things he loved most about you was that you brought out the side of him that didn't immediately resort to violence, the one that still had hope that he could be loved like he once thought.

He leaned down, kissing you gently, softly. You kissed him back, your hand pulling his head even closer, nails grazing over his low cut. He caught a flash of blue as he pulled back from the kiss, removing a hand from your side to look at your hand properly.

"Look at you repping me," he teased you, running his fingers over your nails.

"Had to let 'em know," you shrugged.

"Damn straight," he mumbled against your lips. He could never get enough of you, you were like a drug to him.

He kissed from your lips down your neck, to your collarbone, nipping and sucking as he went. He loved marking you, you don't know when it started but you knew sure as hell it wasn't gonna stop.

Smoke let his runs run all over you, until you tugged at his shirt, frowning. "Why you poutin', baby?" He tilted his head, knowing the answer but wanting to drag it out of you.

"Take it off," you said.

"Yes ma'am."

As he pulled his shirt off, you watched on, smiling at your man's toned body. You let your hands rake over his abs as he leaned back down to you. "Your turn," he tapped your side.

You sat up a bit, pulling down the straps of your tank top before taking it off, no bra underneath. Smoke wasted no time, latching onto your breasts before you could even lay back down.

You let out a loud moan, like you haven't felt his touch in ages. Whilst he worked on your breasts, sucking and biting, he let his hand slide inside the shorts you wore, grazing over your clothed pussy. He could feel how wet you were just from a few touches.

"Fat ma missed me, huh?" he joked. You kissed your teeth, groaning as he rubbed gently.

"Elijah... do something," you moaned.

"Aight, baby, lift up for me." he took your shorts off when you lifted your hips, along with your panties. He settled in between your legs, lying down so he was face to face with your seeping pussy. He looked at you, knowing he was absolutely about to devour you.

The first lick had you throwing your head back, your thighs immediately closing around Smoke's head. If he could've died right then, he would've died a very happy man.

As he licked up and down, sucking your clit, you writhed underneath him, struggling to stay still with how he was doing you.

He gripped your hips, forcing you to stay in one spot. "If you keep moving, I'ma stop." he mumbled with his lips still on you, sending vibrations through your body.

You nodded, knowing he was dead serious about that. One thing about sex with Smoke? The overstimulation was real.

He continued to lick bold stripes up and down your fold, kissing at deeply as he went. You could feel that coil deep in you about to snap, your whimpers and moans getting louder as Smoke used his fingers to rub your clit.

"Fuck, baby, I'm almost─── Oh, fuck, I'm gonna cum!" you moaned as you came, but Smoke still didn't let up, lapping up all your juices as you rode out your high.

You panted, trying to push his head away, already feeling like you could tap out. But when he looked at you, his moustache and goatee coated in your cum, you knew this was only the start.

"You boutta tap out on me? Hm?" he asked.

You shook your head, guiding him back to your folds. You felt his smirk on you, his lips going back to doing what they did best.

You always did love when he came home to you.

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☆ thinking about modernau!smoke...

he'd be a businessman ─── in what industry, that's up for interpretation. he's always been a hardworking man; late nights, up in his office at home working on something or yelling at someone, coming home sometimes with... questionable attire.

you loved him still, and he loved you. that would never change. smoke worked hard for the both of you, and for your family. two little ones that he wanted to grow up in a stable family and have everything they'd ever need, never needing to ask for anything they didn't have.

him in those suits, tailored to perfection for him. maybe some days, you'd wake up as he was getting dressed, determined to spend the little time you had together with him then. you'd do his tie for him, as his hands rested firmly at your waist, drawing you closer to him. smoke loved those moments, just the two of you, his wife who'd been with him by his side through everything, and nothing else.

you knew he could be tough, i mean that's something that attracted you to him. but watching him in his element? yeah, that was something else. there was just something in the way he commanded those around him, except occasionally his brother, the way he got things done, the way he was a provider for you and your family... you couldn't get enough of it.

he was gentle with you. at first you thought he was afraid, though you knew better. as time went, you began to understand that he didn't just view you as something fragile, he viewed you as something he was blessed with, something he couldn't take for granted at all.

smoke didn't let his reputation or occupation take him away from you, he would never. he was still your loving husband, your man at the end of the day. and he made sure to show you that all the time. the way he loved on you, kissing you like it was the first time all over again. the way he held you to him at nights, a protective arm swung over your body, enveloping you close to him. the way he made love to you, so passionate, so meaningful.

you were certain he was made for you.

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Daddy was a rolling stone

Smoke x Reader Word Count: 1,908 Summary: Baby Daddy! Smoke returns to the Mississippi Delta with two things hot on his mind -- his woman and his baby. Let's just say, all he was met with was a purse to the face. Genre: two parts angst, one part fluff!! enjoy

Part. II

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

“I hope you rot in hell, Elijah Moore,” you spat in the man’s direction before turning on your heels and beelining it out of the bustling grocery store. Your face was hot with embarrassment as you made an honest attempt to compose yourself, smoothing over your white church dress and gripping your purse in front of your thighs. 

Here you were, thinking that after listening to your daddy’s sermon at church this morning, you’d simply stop in town to pick up some additional ingredients for Sunday dinner – red snapper for daddy, some collard greens for you, and cornmeal for your mama’s famous cornbread. 

Sunday was your favorite day of the week. The house was filled with the busy chatter of aunts and uncles, siblings and cousins playing in the yard, and your mama yelling at them to “quit that rough playin’!” through the kitchen window. On these occasions, you could be seen in the living room with your sisters and girl cousins gushing and cooing over your one-year-old baby girl, Elisabeth. 

Unbeknownst to you, you would be thrown off course when met face to face with the father of your baby girl, whom you had presumed dead sixteen months ago – Elijah “Smoke” Moore. 

Ever unchanging, Smoke’s serious aura and towering figure announced himself to the market before his low, southern drawl could. Everywhere Smoke walked, he turned heads in fear. Murmurs of infamous heists and crimes follow closely behind. 

You turned your head with everybody, face heating up as your eyes met his. 

You’re supposed to be dead.  You thought, head whirring with a myriad of thoughts, none of them particularly kind to you. Then, came the fury.

Screw Sunday dinner. 

You quickly placed the products you had stored in your basket back on the shelves before scanning the grocery store for an exit. All the while, Smoke makes his way through the crowd to you. You sped towards the glass door separating you from the outside world before stopping in your tracks at the call of your name. 

“Stop runnin’ away from me.” Smoke called out to you, earning some more disapproving stares from the aunties looking over produce.

You didn’t feel bad for damning Smoke to hell. Gosh, he deserved it. 

Smoke disappeared without a word two months before your pregnancy due date, making you give birth alone. You had been raising your baby girl with only the help of your family, which you were so thankful for. But nothing could cure the sting of being scorned by your former lover, who, by the looks of it, believed he could just come waltzing back into your life, demanding to play father and husband. 

You think the fuck not!

--

When you told Smoke that you missed your menstrual for the fifth week in a row, you expected the notorious gangster to be pissed. You mustered up the courage you could to include him in your pregnancy, telling him you were gonna keep this baby regardless of whether he was in your life or not. Instead of the expected rejection, the goofiest smile you’d ever seen plastered across Smoke’s face, and he dropped to his knees, peppering the smallest kisses onto your belly. 

That night, he promised you he’d be the father to his baby that his father never could be to the twins. He professed his love to you in confidence, declaring you his woman between the plush sheets of your bed.

His future wife. 

And for eight months, he kept this act up. He delegated most of the dangerous, dirty work of the Smokestack twins to his baby brother Stack, freed up his schedule to wait on you hand and foot, and even asked your father for permission to propose. 

Your sister giggled like a schoolgirl as she watched from between the stair bannisters. Smoke in his Sunday’s best, sat across the stern gaze of your father, adjusting his blue tie ever so often, and sweating in the cool air of the winter from nervousness. When your sister burst into your room, her infectious giggle let you know that Smoke was able to seal the deal with your father, and you two would soon be officially engaged. 

Two weeks later, he was gone.

He’d booked it up to Chicago with Stack, following promises of big money and “good work.” What followed for you was a maddening silence. 

Not a single letter or a telephone call throughout his absence made you convince yourself that he was dead. Maybe, he'd been caught up in the wrath of an Italian mobster from the dirty slums of Chicago. You mourned Smoke and his brother, Stack, whom you learned to love as your own. You halted your life for months, barely going outside, consumed by grief and the care of your new baby. During the nights, while your sister nursed and cared for baby Elisabeth, your mother soothed you from nightmarish visions of Smoke’s stiff body, bloody and bruised, drifting down the river. 

And now, sixteen months later, he’s returned to the Mississippi Delta – alive and well. In a perfectly tailored, expensive tweed suit that fit his strong figure, and chasing you out of the market and into the hot summer sun. 

“You needa stop followin’ me if you know what’s good for you Smoke.” 

No one dared talk to the Smokestack twins in such a brazen manner, but you were feeling mighty bold today. Anger rumbled in your chest as you took long, brisk steps out of the town square and onto the back road that led to your family’s plot of land. Trees stretched down the sides of the dirt road for what seemed like miles before you.

“You needa stop walkin away and tell me why you runnin’ from me,” Smoke addressed you seriously, grabbing your hand and forcing you to turn his way. His face was hardened with frustration, his nostrils flared with each breath.

Before your mouth could react, your body did, and before you knew it, your white handbag connected with the side of Smoke’s temple. 

“Who are you to touch me?” you shouted, landing a few more blows to Smoke's shoulder and torso. Your knuckles turned pale from how strongly you gripped your purse.

“What the fuck-” Smoke attempted to grab your hand and block you from attempting another swing, forcing you to looking up into his cold, chocolate eyes. You immediately softened and whipped your arm away from his large, calloused hands

No one attempted to harm the Smokestack brothers and got away scot free.

You licked your lips, suddenly feeling a bit bashful under the hardened gaze of your former lover, averting your eyes to anything but him.

“What are you doin’ here anyway?” you mustered out, suddenly more interested in weed across the way than the vision of your handsome ex-fiance. 

“I came to see you,” He took a slow step in your direction, keeping his hands at his sides. “I’ve come home.”

“You lost your damn mind if you think you gotta home here,” you chuckled dryly, looked at him in disbelief, before attempting to move past him.  

You ignored the way his familiar southern drawl ignited a certain fire within your stomach, one that ain't been tended to in months. You had to keep strong. Your baby was being raised without a loving father in her life, and you wasn’t gonna let him walk in and out of your life when he was chasing a thrill of looking for a quick fuck. 

“I want to see my baby girl,” Smoke started, stopping you in your tracks once again. 

“How you know she's a girl?” You whipped around, face morphed in pure confusion.

The corner of Smoke’s mouth tugged into a small smile, the glint of his gold fangs sparking in the sun. “I figured I’d pay the Rev a visit this mornin'. Had some sins I needed forgiven and whatnot.” 

You cursed your father for being the pushover he was, always giving words of god to those who you don't believe deserve it. You rolled your eyes before Smoke started again. 

“He told me how much I hurt you, darlin’. How you been taking care of our baby girl by yourself while I been away.”  Smoke’s eyes filled with sorrow as he pulled your smaller frame into his. He breathed in your scent as if it were the only source of air for his lungs and he hugged you so tightly, you threatened to pop. You bit your lip to stop hot tears from falling from your eyes, but did not hug back. “I missed you so damn much, baby.”

Smoke was alright with that. Just as long as he had his woman in his arms again.

– 

You allowed Smoke to walk you home just before the afternoon sun scorched you both. You allowed him to hold you for a few more minutes on the front porch before you invited him in. You allowed him to sit stiffly in the living room of your home, blazing under the unapproving gaze of your youngest siblings, before dismissing them to their rooms. 

“Do you wanna meet her?” You asked meekly, standing at the foot of your stairs. He nodded eagerly at the question, almost stumbling to his feet. He wiped his hand on his suit pants before rushing to the stairs, careful not to ambush you.

In your bedroom, on a small cot next to your bed, lay Elisabeth, sleeping peacefully, with a blue rabbit snuggled up to her slowly rising chest. She still had on her frilly white dress from church this morning and dark, soft curls brushing over her chubby cheeks. She was a splitting image of her father in looks, but you were thankful she at least had your lips and nose. 

You watched as Smoke entered the room carefully, trying his best not the make a noise or disturb the child's sleep. You bit back a laugh as he looked at you awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. This image of him was a sight to behold. Rarely was Smoke ever unsure of himself.

‘Elisabeth,” you cooed the child awake, earning a small huff from the child and her turning her back from you.

That attitude must have been from Stack. 

“Elisabeth, you have a special visitor,” You laughed at your baby girl, who wiped her tired eyes and immediately attempted to bury herself in your arms, arms wrapping around your neck. “C’mon Elisabth, that’s not polite.”

Smoke stood in the entryway of the room, brimming with pride. He let you take the reins of the interaction, but you could tell he wanted so badly to hold his baby girl. You motioned him to come closer before passing Elisabeth into his arms. 

God, he couldn’t contain his joy. Elisabeth practically melted into her father’s arms, letting out a small yawn. He scanned her beautiful features, imprinting them into his mind for all of eternity. 

Little did you know, he had been looking forward to this day for sixteen months. 487 days passed without being able to contact his woman on account of the dangerous jobs he was taking with the Irish mob.

487 days passed with nothing to think about but what you were doing, how you felt, who you could take comfort in while he was away. 

487 days passed without being able to touch and feel his beautiful baby girl and his precious wife. 

“Papa’s here,” Smoke whispered into your daughter’s ear. “Don't worry. Papa’s here.” 

You felt a beat in your chest of satisfaction, maybe something a bit sweeter than that. You touched your cheeks as hot, slow tears escaped the corners of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

You allowed Smoke to stay for dinner that night, allowing him to hold her baby girl for hours without end. Maybe, after the sun went down, he would have the chance to hold you as well.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Hello guys! Had this idea all weekend and wrote some paragraphs down whilst I was on a weekend trip. Saw sinners again, and gosh, do I love the twins. Anywhosits, this was supposed to be a drabble, but ended up almost 2000 words, so hope you enjoy! Also, if you have any fic ideas or wanna talk about sinners, my inbox is open bbies.