PASSINâ ON BY.
ELIJAH âSMOKEâ MOORE X BLACKF!READER
summary: fleeing a loveless marriage, you find yourself back at the beginning. rekindling old flames and finding your missing link in your loneliest hours.
wc: 4k
warnings: childhood friends, fluff, angst (kinda sort maybe!), swearing, smoke survives the movie!, APPROPRIATE USE OF COUNTRY ACCENTS
a/n: i am NOT a writer like that chat, i noticed the severe lack of smokestack twins fanfics and i HAD to do something. the last fic i wrote was a year ago so if this is ass js pretend english isnt my first language. <\3 i was GONNA write smut but i remembered iâm a lesbian and idk how that works, if you guys like it then maybe weâll have a part two! not proofread!
Clarksdale Mississippi Station, 1934
The train had sped past like a bullet. Passengers gathering their bearings, children clung to their parents, and non-natives revolted at the scorching heat.
The muggy weather plenty enough to melt the rubber off your shoes, leaving you stuck to the ground until nightfall. The sweat on your body made you feel as if you were freshly steamed crawfish, ready to be cracked open and devoured. The train chugged loudly in the distance, leaving a thick grey smog in its wake. Polluting to humid skies, sucking the air from your lungs as you struggled to breathe.
You found your way back in town due to unfortunate circumstances. The bustling atmosphere introducing a flood of memories and conflicting feelings of a place you once called home and loved as such.
You initially ran away as a young woman, newly wed to a mechanic with a hard head and a cold heart. You resided in Louisiana for a few years, a life free from prying eyes. Running around barefoot in the bayou, freedom coursing through your veins as you relished in your youth and the prospects of a future ahead. You had a sharp tongue, quicken witted enough to make a manâs head spin, smile lines on your face most prominent.
The excitement dampened, the bohemian lifestyle uninhabitable. Work for your husband was hard to come by, the marriage lacked passion and tenderness,
bouncing from place to place, financial instability, and a dull marriage.
You fled in the night. Packing a light bag for yourself as you set off, the sweltering night had you glancing over your shoulder each passing moment. Stumbling throughout the muddy bayou to the train station. Barely escaping your former life by the skin of your teeth, you found yourself back at the beginning. The one place you could truly call home.
The sky blackened, the lour of the night urging you to find yourself refuge. Clutching onto your hand held case as you switched throughout the station.
Enjoying the sweet blues tunes of washed musicians fighting to hang onto another day. Sweat prickling at their darkened foreheads from the humid scorch. Their faces sullen from years of pain and history as they poured it into their music. Lost souls with little direction and no place to go gathered around them to praise and drown in their sorrow masked behind cheers and claps. You give a kind nod, passing by with your back straight and held hung high. Simply humming along to the tune knowing truly you arenât at all different from any of them. Just as lost and just as sorrowful.
The sky continued to darken as you continued your stride. Aimlessâ the way you stumbled through the crowds of people making their way to whatever their destination may be. Being back in such a familiar place almost felt disembodying, lost yet found all in one.
The peace deafened any and everything around you. Drifting through the streets with ease and poise.
Practically in the blink of an eye,
The atmosphere shifted.
Each step you took and every block you turned the population dwindled. The streets empty, disregarding drunks passed out on benches and pissing on the streets.
The isolation in your mind fading as youâre met with deafening silence. Your eyes sharpened, the hairs on the back of your neck prickled upwards. Your grip tightened almost ironclad. Your eyes darting around the elongated street, a chilling feeling of being watched left a settling unease within your gut. The unsettling feeling lingering in the air as your pace quickened. Wandering almost frantically as you searched for something open. A public restroom, a restaurant, a grocery store, something to keep you shielded and sheltered.
cutting your stride irregularly as your eyes narrowed in on a quaint saloon. Scurrying your way into the establishment. Exhaling a breath you werenât even aware youâd been holding as you let the soothing chill of the establishment engulf you. Practically slamming the jingling door behind yourself in a paranoia.
It was a quaint saloon, full of folk akin to your complexion. Unchaperoned women seemed welcome, friendly faces and cheerful moods inviting you in spite of your hesitation.
You precariously wandered through the saloon. Observing young lovers giggling overtop each other, men playing cards with one another, and people talking entirely too slick to back it up outside. You sat yourself on a stool, carefully plucking the gloves from your fingers, allowing yourself to melt into the atmosphere. The barkeep pacing back and forth, eyes wandering over you as if you were a rare pearl found in an unassuming clam.
The night passed.
Minutes turned into an hour, full of chuckles and conversations with friendly folk and old friends who were long forgotten.
an hour turned into hours, two whiskeys deep and satisfied with the quaint community youâve built in such a short time residing within the four walls you resided in.
The bell of the establishment rang, a dark ambiance overtaking the joyous premises.
A dark figure made its way through the door. Seemingly alone, everyone in the room shushed themselves quiet as loud steps could be heard throughout the room. Your head tilted, a curious glimmer in your eye, struggling to mind your own as the anticipation of who and what had arrived. Your eyes shifted to the front of the room, struggling to eye the man overtaking the air from the space. Eyes falling back towards her half empty glass.
The footsteps loudened, chatter slowly picking back up. The stool beside you being pulled out, a large presence seated beside you.
Your eyes shifted sideways, struggling to gaze at the man in your peripheral vision.
A glimpse of a steady frown and fresh dapper suit. He carried himself with such a stoic aura, something that communicated to you that he was a reserved man. Every movement he took was calculated and precise. Your eyes widened as your vision focused, your heart dropping towards the soles of your feet as your throat ran dry. Your mouth opened yet words failed to fall out. Straightening yourself out, legs crossed, subconsciously fixing yourselfâ not knowing what for.
âElijah?â You hesitated, voice shaken and eyes wide. Nervousness bubbling in your gut.
A small hum escaped his lips, practically on instinct. Almost as if it were involuntary. He kissed his teeth, seeming as though he were disappointed in himself.
âSmoke.â He corrected. Eyes sharply narrowed.
It was as if his entire demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. A look of shock gracing his rough feature, eyes softening once they found yours. Shaking his head in complete disbelief.
âWell iâll be damnedâŠâ
Your mind flooded with thoughts. The instant recognition bringing back memories of childhood, playing around in mud in sweltering heat, being attached at the hip along with Elias. Both being fostered by Maryâs mother.
Growing up stuck like glue. Your bond difficult to defineâ better left ambivalent as you both didnât mind. You protected each other in the only ways you knew how.
Little boys harassing you at the school house? Heâd knock out their teeth before they could get another word in. Someone trying to sell Elijah short? Youâd swear them to hell. A rich relationship of reciprocity. When the twins enlisted you were sick for weeks on end, praying yourself old for their safety. Your mind torturing you of the most cruel outcomes possible, your heart murmuring at the thought. His absence sending you mad, once they moved to Chicago your heart shattered. Nothing left to keep you in Mississippi, you left.
Desperate to escape the memories. The pain of never reliving the bond you once beautifully nurtured.
So you left.
Seeing Elijah. Here, alive, staring down at you with perplexed indifference shattered your heart once again. The tinge of pain simmering in your gut.
âThat really you, Little Miss?â He questioned, voice monotonous yet the inflection in his tone caring.
Completely snapping you out of your thoughts of destruction. Warmth settling throughout your body the second he acknowledged you, he knew you.
A breathless chuckle escaped your lips. Eyes wandering his figure. A tall looming presenceâ eyeing you down, his gaze perplexing to decode. You wanted to know everything, what heâd been thinking, what he experienced, how Elias was, your brain galloped with overwhelming thoughts.
âWhy you back?â he questioned coldly, looking down at you with eyes sharp enough to cut a hole through you.
A drink delivered in front of him without even requested, he nodded in the barkeeps direction. Eyes falling back to you.
âIâm a free woman now.â You sputtered.
Your words were met with a slight nod of his head, turning his gaze away from you. You rolled your tongue over your teeth, the bitter taste of alcohol still lingering in your mouth. You felt tenseâ out of place almost. Such a reunion felt mournful. As if all the time that had passed drove a wedge between you both. Lost for words but so desperately wanting to speak.
âGood to see you too.â you paused, your lips tightly scrunched. âSmoke.â
The name came out in a jumble, unnatural to your mouth. Gazing at your Elijah like a stranger.
His eyes shifted towards you, no words slipped from his tight lips yet his eyes bored questions into your soul. The spark of his chocolate eyes told tales. The longer you looked the deeper you sunk into them, calling to you like a siren song, eyes carrying perplexed question. Leaving you no choice but to answer.
âLast I heardâ he donât got a pot to piss in.â You began, tapping the wooden bar rhythmically with your fingertips.
He tilted his head.
âPete.â You straighten your posture, your husband's name slithering from your lips like venom.
âRat bastard, heâs probably out now. Gallivanting with a new coozeâ fixinâ himself a new bride.â
Elijah stared at you momentarily, a puff of air blowing from his nostrils. His forehead crinkled a portrayal of his maturity. He shook his head like a disappointed authority figureâ though the amusement was clear, a slight flare in his deep set eyes.
âAll these years and yoâ mouth still filthy, woman.â
âAll these years, you still dull as dishwater.â
You took another swig of your whiskey, eyes finding Elijahâs above the rim of your glass. Holding the contact. It was an adjustment, coming accustomed to the man Elijah had become. The juxtaposition from your childhoodâ the scrappy kid who carried the world on his shoulders, yet you found yourself falling in tune with the man now. Slowly as he opened himself, getting to peak into the man he hid underneath his rough exterior.
the heavy air between you dissipating, melting into the same dynamic youâd had since youth. The words flowed from your lips so effortlesslyâ Elijah would nod, respond when he needed. Youâd crack a joke and you could swear you saw him crack a faint smile and the tiniest chuckle. The night darkened, the patrons in the saloon dwindling by the hour. Yet you two were still there.
You missed this, you missed your twins. It felt like home. You didnât know what you were doing back in Clarksdale, but as long as you had your family with you, you surely werenât just passing on by.
âSmoke.â You began, slender fingers twirling your glass of whiskey.
âI ainât seen Elias in a month of sundays...â You trailed off, looking up at him with crinkled eyes. âWhat he call himself nowâ fog?â
Silence.
Elijahâs lips pursed, eyes shut tightly at the mere mention of his name.
âHe gone.â
Her muttered barely above a whisper, as if it were a sacred secret you had to take to the grave. It was bluntâ final. No room for questioning or confusion. He didnât expand, no elaboration. Elias Moore was gone. No knowing if he skipped town, passed on, or was sitting in a bar over in chicago. Just gone.
Your chest tightened. A stillness in the air was deafening. Your earsâ for the first time in hours picked up the patrons beyond your area. Chatting among themselves, as you simply gazed at Elijah. Brooding and oh so quiet.
You chewed the inside of your cheek. Finger trailing around the rim of your glass, eyes shifting around the room.
You felt little. Vulnerable, unsure what to say or do in the moment. You were stuck, iced out. Agonizing quiet.
âI ainât mean to pryâŠâ You sputtered, praying to clean up the silence.
another beat.
âWhere you staying, Little Miss?â He questioned, monotonous per usual.
Brought back to reality. Darting glances at his fixed facial expression. Your shoulders shrugged lazily, your cheeks hollowed as your jaw tightened.
âNever thought that far ahead.â
âStay with me.â
Your body tensed, your jaw tightening hard enough to give you a migraine, the alcohol certainly contributing.
âA cabin suits me just fine.â
âWoman.â
His tone was stern, overpowering and impossibly hard to say no to. He moistened his lips with his tongue, eyes giving you a once over glance. Standing up, buttoning his suit jacket.
You followed his lead, scurrying to stand up. Struggling to match his pace. Practically getting whiplash, the whiskey weighing you down. Your fingers smoothed over your thick curls, conscious of your state, praying your night of leisure didn't leave you disheveled and unpresentable.
âDamnââ You huffed. âTabâs gon be through the roofâ You spat.
Your heeled feet clacked against the saloon floor. Your balance off center but poised nonetheless.
âTurn your drunk ass âround.â
You cocked your head, a loud snort. Stumbling sideways as you braced yourself on the bar.
âYou a big shot now, huh?â You shook your head, walking ahead of him towards the door. âPayinâ for tabs and shitââ
Elijah kissed his teeth, shaking his head. Eyes trailing your figure as your hips switched to the door. He reached down, grabbing your luggage which you foolishly left behind. Thick fingers curling around the handle, holding it in front of his person like a suitcase carrying thousands.
The scorching delta night knocked the sense back into you. Being met again with the reality that you were in fact home. The road ahead of you long, not a home in sight. Elijah wasnât far behind, stepping from the saloon, luggage in hand. His figure looming above you.
âNot one of us should be driving.â He shook his head.
Finding his way towards a pristine automobile. A sharp red, lean. Itâs clear intent to be too damn fast. Your eyes widened as large as saucers, scurrying up to Elijah in pure awe. Hands resting upon his broad shoulders as you peered over them.
âYou gotta let me drive.â You pleaded quietly in his ear, a lazy intoxicated grin on your lips.
You were close enough to smell the liquor on his lips and vice versa. He peered at you from his peripherals, kissing his teeth as he trotted forwards. Your hands swatting at the set of keys in his hand
âDrive when you ainât trippinâ over yoâ own tongue.â
You huffed, slinking to the passenger seat. The crickets of the night singing to the moon, the only thing your mind could properly focus on. The adrenaline of the night wearing downâ the whiskey catching up to you.
The drive was quiet. Enjoying the peaceful night, Elijahâs presence was soothing. Hours before youâd been scared half to death from a chill in the air and a feeling in your gut. Yet the air breezed calmly, the silence was comfortable, no troubles finding you.
The road twisted and turned. Elijah tapped his fingers against the steering wheel rhythmically, the same rhythm you tapped in the saloon. You simply watchâ hands resting in your lap as you admired. A small smile on your face as you drifted in and out of consciousness.
âž»
You were woken by the sound of a car door slamming. Elijah trotted to the passengers seat, opening the door and providing a hand to you for balance.
Rubbing your eyes from your immersive rest. Your gloved hand slipping into his. His grip gentle yet strong, the size of his fingers overtaking yours completely, your heeled foot carefully slid from the automobile. The second your foot touched the ground it wobbled, tipsy from your indulgent night of knocking back whiskeys.
Elijah stood firm beside you. Leading you from the vehicle and towards the entryway of his home, your luggage clutched in his non dominant hand.
It was fittingâ the home. Quaint and far from town, prying eyes unable to see past the overgrown shrubbery and vines that winded and nested around the house. A brick path led to a porch. Your eyes wandered around the surrounding area. Tall trees that leaned too close to the road, the grass withered and burnt from the Mississippi sun. Walking up the porch stairs to find two rocking chairs. Red and blue, portrayed as an undisturbed art piece. Something to pass and admire as you went about your business.
âYou livinâ out here all on your own?â You questioned quietly, allowing him to walk ahead as you watched.
His lip quirked downwards, body turning to you as he bothered with his keys. He huffed in frustration as they jingled around.
You slowly stalked up the porch, fingers trailing along the railing.
âBest to keep to yourselfâŠâ Elijah replied quietly, making his way behind you.
âYet you invited me.â
It fell quiet once again, fireflies buzzed a quiet hum. It was comfortable, the silence a conversation in itself. Glances between the two of you as Elijah walked ahead. Sticking the key in the lock, eyes trailing over his broad shoulders. He opened the door, standing in front to allow you to enter first.
âIâm guessinâ you just special.â
Elijahâs home was nothing to call home about. Four walls, a bed, simple and clean. No real possessions as far as the eye can see. No real character, personalityâ no permanence.
Elijah placed your luggage by the door, removing his jacket. You stood by the door, the wooden floorboards creaking as you slowly stepped further inside. Your thumbs circled around each other, slowly ridding your slender fingers of the cream colored silk that covered them. You watched as Elijah traversed throughout his home, a small smile gracing your lips.
âMake yourself at home, Little Miss.â He called from the kitchen. âThereâs a radioâ in the parlor. Put on something you like.â
He spoke between breaths. Clear heâd been bothering with something he had no business being in. Especially this late in the dark of the night.
You slinked around the home, fingers dancing over the couches, the texture rippling underneath your fingers as you passed by. The interior felt warmâ the simplicity of the home was charming. A warm comfort engulfed you, it was so honestly Elijah.
You made your way towards the music box. Your fingers gently twisting the dial, sifting through channels hoping to find what was pleasing to your ear. A soft guitar strum sang from the radio. The musician's voice full of emotion and soul, his tone full of bass and heart.
A pleased hum came from behind you, head tilting to find Elijah behind you. Holding two glasses, an unidentified bottle in hand. His stride was slow, watching as you swayed to the music, tipsy from the hour prior.
âKeep on dancinâ, you gon topple over.â Her huffed, seating himself as he watched. A flicker of amusement in his eye.
âJealous âcause you got two left feet.â
You shuffled over towards Elijah. Plopping down beside him, a breathy chuckle knocked out of you. The air in the room felt intoxicating, you were reeling. Elijahâs presence left you drugged, like a poor soul on the side of the dirt road. Finding his eyes made your gut flutter, sitting close enough you found yourself syncing your breathing with his. It felt like time had rewindedâ back to when you were children. Rolling around in the dirt, holding hands, protecting one another. You were simply reeling.
Elijahâs eyes shifted away from yours. His body stiff, and pulled away. As if your presence was overwhelming, he carried on. The silence in the room disheartening. Leaning forward as he poured into the two glasses, mouth opening as if to say something. He was stuck, eyes shifting as he watched from his peripherals.
âYou want some?â It creaked out, uncertainty in his tone.
You bit your tongue, eyes falling to the bottle. A small nod of the head.
âWhat is it?â
âIrish wine.â
The glass was handed to you, fingers brushing against one another. Gaze trained to the floor, the current buzz you felt dwindled. The confidence you possessed hours before drifted away. Replaced with your default quiet.
Elijahâs quiet fell in tune with yours. Avoiding your gaze yet his eyes still on you, gaze undeniably strong and intimate, a softness contrasting with the rough exterior. His eyes searched, unsure what he was looking for. Your hair, hands, dress, the shade of lipstick, the way it stained the glass. You seemed so put together, almost. there was something bubbling underneath the surface, begging to be free. His analysis not far from your feelings within.
âWhatâs wrong?â He questioned, his voice taking a much softer tone.
âWhy am I here, Smoke?â
He paused, brows furrowing as if what you asked was ludicrous.
âYou family.â
âBullshit.â
It was true, emotionally, Elijah was the only family you had left. You knew there was more. A part of the puzzle missing, something buried deep that you claw at to unsheath.
âIâm stuck.â You muttered.
âIâm stuck, Elijah.â
The name drifted from your lips for the first time in hours. Slipping out in your weakest moment. He looked at you, a quiet storm. Your chest heaved, inner thoughts running rampant as you struggled to piece your mind together.
âI donât have anything. No family, not a pot to piss in, myself.â You stumbled over your words. âAnd here you come, right back in my life like you never left.â
Elijah sat quiet. Face unreadable as always, as if speaking to a brick wall. Your heart swelled as your feelings hit you like a brick.
âYou make me calmâ real calm. But you also make me nervous. I got so many feelings bubblinâ inside me it feel like, like thunder and lightning. These past few hours made me feel so,â
You bit your tongue, searching for the words within. âDifferently alive.â
âWhat you sayinâ?â Elijah tilted his head.
The quiet storm himself sat there, full attention on you. His firsts curled into fist, gripping his pants as he restrained himself. For whatever reason he was unsure of. His body impossibly close, breathing rough and palms sweaty.
âI donât know.â You sputtered, the words falling in a jumble.
Silence.
The pressure in your chest fell. The thoughts bubbling within you expelled. You felt light, airy almost. You didnât look over at him, you just sat quietly, looking ahead.
In an instant something shifted. Elijahâs hand flung your cheek, the roughness of it providing a warm comfort.
His lips against yours. Lips soft and delicate, treating you as if you were a flower. Your body immediately ignited in flames, foreheads against each other, craving any connection possible. Eyes hammered shut In fear, anticipationâ you didn't know. You sat there, allowing it to happen. Elijah poured a warmth into you that you didnât even know existed. To the top of your head to the tips of your toes, you felt peace.
Slowly he pulled away, hand never leaving your face. Eyes peering down at you like you were a rare pearl. The fluttering feeling within your body sent your entire heart ablaze.
Your lips parted to speak, nothing but a croak falling. Everything within you screamed for more. Of Elijah, you prayed he felt everything you felt. Nothing more, nothing less.
He kept quiet. Searching you, every single micro expression made, he watched. Observed, wanting to please you in every way imaginable.
You muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. Voice tinged with desperation,
âPlease, Elijah.â


















