smoke x reader| you heard her.
*lowercase intentional*
* soft girl reader*
*little mature language *
"i know you hear me.â
you keep walking.
the gravel crunches softly under your shoes, your grip tightening just slightly around the purse on your shoulder. the mississippi sun blazing hot.
you donât turn around.
donât slow down.
just keep moving.
you tell yourself you just need to make it to the shop before your granny comes out.
she donât get around like she used to⊠and you promised youâd be back before she had to look for you.
âheyââ
his footsteps pick up behind you.
closer.
too close.
you let out a quiet breath through your nose, already tired of it.
âiâm not interested,â you say, still not looking at him. âleave me alone.â
that shouldâve been enough.
it isnât.
âyou ainât even gonâ look at me?â he laughs, like this is funny.
like this is normal.
âthatâs rude, donât you think miss? yo high walking ass thinks ya too good for me?!"
you scoff. shaking your head slightly, continuing forward.
âi said leave me the hell alone!â
your voice is still soft.
but firm.
you think thatâll be the end of it.
it isnât.
a hand wraps around your wrist.
sudden.
tight.
it stops you mid-step.
âyou ain't just gonâ walk past me like i ainât speakinâ to ya?â
your body stiffens instantly.
not fear.
not exactly.
but something close.
you try to pull your arm back.
his grip tightens.
âlet go of me!â
his grip only tightens.
and by now, a crowd has formed.
smoke had been leaning against the car for a minute now.
waiting for stack.
watching the street the way he always did.
quiet.
not drawing attention, but seeing everything anyway.
a cigar tucked between his fingers...the tip faintly glowing, ash hanging loose.
he noticed you before all of that.
the way you stepped out the shop earlier with an older woman.
careful, attentive.
the way your dress shifted around your legs as you walked.
focused, minding your business.
he liked that.
BUT didnât like what he was seeing now.
his jaw shifts slightly as the man grabs ahold of your wrist.
he straightens.
slow.
not rushed.
never rushed.
but thereâs something in the way he moves now that wasnât there before.
something heavier.
âĄâĄâĄ
âi said let go!â
you pull again.
harder this time, your brows pulling together while attempting to kick him.
the man doesnât budge.
â bitch, you doinâ too much!â he mutters, grip still tight around your wrist pulling you closer towards him.
âand nigga you doinâ too much.â
you donât even hear the voice first.
you hear the click of a gun.
sharp.
close.
the sound cuts through everything.
both of you turn.
and the street goes quiet.
real quiet.
heâs standing just a few steps behind him.
calm.
still.
like heâs been there longer than you realized.
the gun is already in his hand.
not waving.
not shaking.
just⊠there.
steady.
pointed.
the man freezes, eyes widen.
you feel it in the way his grip shifts just slightly.
people in town talk about the twins.
everybody knows the twins.
youâve heard about the brothers before.
quiet conversations held in lowered voices.
warnings disguised as stories.
but youâve never seen them.
not like this.
not up close.
your chest tightens anyway.
because even without knowingâŠ
you know.
âyou know who i am?â
his voice is low.
calm.
like he ainât asking for real.
like he already knows the answer.
the man swallows, eyes flicking between smoke's face and the gun.
âss...sm...smoke.â the man says sweating, swallowing hard.
âthen you might wanna think real careful bout what you do next.â
quiet.
final.
smoke's eyes donât leave him.
not for a second.
and neither does the gun.
the man lets go of you.
fast this time.
like he just remembered how this ends.
you pull your wrist back immediately, fingers curling slightly where he held you.
a dull, aching, pulse lingering where he gripped you.
the man takes a step back.
then another.
âsmoke⊠it ainât even like thatâ the man says with his hands up in surrender.
no response from smoke.
no movement.
just that same steady stare.
the man backs away completely.
turns.
he starts walking cooly.
like he got away with something.
like itâs over.
BANG
the shot rings out.
sharp.
loud enough to split the quiet clean in half.
screams break out and folks run to take cover.
the man drops with a shout, grabbing his leg as he hits the ground.
you flinch letting out a tiny yelp.
you ain't never seen nothing like it.
a man shooting another, and for you at that.
the sound sits heavy in your chest.
smoke doesnât move.
doesnât rush.
just watches him.
making sure it lands.
making sure he understands.
then...
ânahâŠâ
his voice is low.
steady.
âcanât let you walk off thinkinâ you was right.â
a pause.
his gaze dips briefly to you.
âshe told you no.â
then back to him.
âyou ainât just gonâ put your hands on her n walk away from it."
the man groans in pain, panic breaking through now.
âaight...aight, you's right smoke! iâm donââ
smoke doesnât respond.
he let's off another shot.
BANG
the man screams out in agony.
" n extra courtesy reminder from the twins."Â
he smirks, tipping the front of his hat.
"ya be alright. put some pressure on it."
heâs already dismissed him.
the man scrambles away, holding one of his wounds, sliding across the ground, not looking back.
âĄâĄâĄ
the street settles again.
slower this time.
heavier.
youâre still where you are, your hand on your chest now.
your heart and mind hasnât quite caught up yet.
smoke finally looks at you.
really looks this time.
his eyes flick briefly to your wrist.
then back to your face.
checking.
always checking.
âyou alright, mama?â
