🔥🤎🎉• @esquire Good morning to Ryan Coogler, Michael B. Jordan, and the entire #Sinners team. The film landed a record-breaking number of Oscar nominations Thursday morning—swipe to see more.
you ever think about the intricacies of smoke & stack's dynamic and go fucking crazy?
their abusive father zeroing in on stack as the outlet for his beatings, smoke killing their daddy, half way done burying him by the time stack came to - smoke being the BIG BROTHER from the start, keeping stack safe - stack becoming who he is - bit reckless, full of charisma and whimsy because of smoke, in a way, shielding him from the world ("doesn't know how to watch his own back").
thinking of smoke saying how stack is the best thing about him, how stack talks a big game but how it's smoke who kills the snake, smoke who shoots two men for stealing out of his truck, smoke who pulls a gun on sammie and pearline. does he ever think he got more of their daddy in him than stack? where stack can connect with people in a way smoke can't quite follow. stack laying out clothes for him, doing his hair, rolling his cigarettes- giving smoke back some of what the war took.
but I also can't help but think that there is this slight ....almost paternalistic element at times - the way stack looks around for smoke when he's with mary, worried he'll be caught, worried he'll displease him and yet that thing he says when he's turned "don't let that witch come between us again" - there's no doubt that stack loves annie and is clearly DISTRAUGHT when smoke kills her but ...was there ever resentment? did he ever feel betrayed? was it ever only meant to be the two of them against the world?
"he was the best thing about me" "i ain't doing it without you there ain't no me without you" "sorry for not keeping you safe - you always did" the way stack is just that one person smoke can't kill, the way the only time he wavers in his resolve is when his vampire brother talks with him.
(this is borderline incoherent but I have a lot of thoughts)
He loves your pudgy stomach | insecure!reader, smut, manhandling,
Loves how it pokes out when your full, or when you wear a tight top, loves holding it in hands, brushing his fingers against the curves when your sat in his lap or when he rubs your thighs, how it squishes when he folds you in half in bed, loves how if he presses your tummy he’ll feel his cock— he fucking adores it.
You on the other hand— not so much.
Maybe it was strange, but you’ve always had a stomach, a little extra weight. And you tried to work it off but it just stuck with you. And then he kept touching at, poking and probing it— that aching feeling that maybe you weren’t enough— or that you were too much— grew and grew.
So you’d decided to take some time apart. Try to work “your problem” out on your own. Eat smaller portions, workout more, and when He did see you, you were in baggier clothes, distancing yourself away from his touch. You were still cute with your sweater paws but he’s not new to your hesitation. How you look when your delicate brain overworks itself. If he doesn’t say anything, you’ll hole yourself up and the problem tighter than a pickle jar.
And then he sees it, that frustrated and pouty look on your face just as you pass by the mirror while you’re at your dresser— And that’s all it takes.
Your boyfriend, who witnessed the scene from the living room of your apartment, came to your room, leaning on the door frame. “You keep makin that face mama, what’s wrong?”
You shrug, hiding yourself into the comforters, “Nothin, just tired is all.”
He nods, internally rolling his eyes, but he comes next to you, laying down on the bed and cocks his head. “Too tired for me to hold you?”
You shake your head sheepishly, you can’t help but let him take you in your arms, because that’s where you feel the most comfortable. Well you did, but now? You weren’t too sure.
His squeezed you tightly, just to make you squeal a little bit, then his head went to the crook of your neck, pecking right here before nuzzling in. His sweet baby. He loved you to pieces, couldnt understand the random need to hide yourself. And his hands unconsciously went to your fupa making you jerk away.
“Sorry,” you gave him a weak smile, before you can pull away, he is pulled you closer by the waist.
“What’s up with that, what’s wrong? Been makin that face every time I see you. And now you don’t even let me touch you.” He pauses for a moment, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. And sighs, if he has to act to get the truth out of you, so be it— he fains frown, “You hate me?”
You almost leap out of your skin, eyes widening, “I-I don’t hate you! I could never hate you! Just-just—“
You want to hide your face, but your boyfriend keeping you still in his arms, his eyes looking at you dead on.
“Doesn’t- doesn’t it make you uncomfortable?” You mumbled.
“It?” His eyebrow raises.
You take a deep breath, “My stomach. It’s weird isn’t it? I’ve been trying to get rid of it, you- you keep touching it and I’m sure it’s not the best thing to look at—“
“—Christ baby slow down.” He cuts off the near incoherent rambling, lifting your chin with his fingers.
“Who said I hated it? I love your cute stomach baby. Love all the curves on you. Know I need someone with some weight on ‘em don’t you sweetheart?”
“But-“
“—No buts gorgeous.” He pecks your lips once, again for good measure. “Gotta love you and your pretty tummy huh?”
Well he wasn’t sure he could get you to love it in one go, but he’d show you just how much he loved that pretty stomach of yours— by putting you into the mattress.
His Your sweatshirt was snatched off your body, his lips immediately trailing down your body, a kiss directly to your stomach. Licking and kissing at it a few time before pulling your shorts down.
He fucks your sloppy heat sideways, ramming in every inch into while admiring your pretty face get all screwed up in pleasure. Your leg hiked up over his forearm. You can’t help the moans and mewls that escape you, he dragging his large veiny cock out and slamming it back in your gummy walls.
“You have to look gorgeous, shit- look how pretty you are- hah- takin me in your pretty cunt,” he huffs, slightly groaning at the warm feel of you.
“Mmmmphf, fuc- noo” you keen, the moon of your nails digging into at his toned arms making him hiss.
“No?” And he pouts. Fucking pouts. “No you’re not pretty or no your cunts no pretty? Both- shi- would be a fuckin lie. And you know I hate lies baby.”
The man lifts you like it’s nothing, folds you like a lawn chair with both your legs over his broad shoulders.
“Shit- anngh- baby m’ not- hicc- I’m not heavy?” You pout between a moan. And he only takes the beautiful fat of your ass in both his hands, raising you up and jackhammering up into you like he despises you. The loud ‘plap, plap, plap’ of your slippery juices, wetting his pubic hairs down to his balls.
He sucks and nibbles your neck that makes you shake and cry out, “Never- fuckin- heavy doll, so damn perfect, jesus-“ he groans with every thrust.
“Where’s your boyfriend sweet girl, hm?”
You hiccup, eyes rolling to the back of your head, drool slowly coming out of your mouth from how good you feel, but he grips your hair, making you looking down at your stomach. “Come on baby, gotta show me where your man is.”
It ripples with every movement, squishing every time he slams you down on his length but you can’t help but gasp, feeling at the fat of your stomach to you press riiiight at his twitching tip that’s bruising your womb. “Aww- hnngh- R-right there! shit- Right there!” You whimper.
“Thaaat’s right gorgeous, not gonna be aaanywhere else.” He purrs. And it’s euphoria while he gets you there, how you whine that he’s too big and how good you feel with him hitting your spongy g-spot. You suddenly clamp down around his cock, clenching around his pulsing cock as you shatter around him.
He brushes your curls out of your face as you try to catch your breath, condescendingly cooing, “Don’t pass out on me now, sweetheart. I haven’t cum yet.”
Summary- The position the Moore twins fuck you in and their aftercare.
wc- total 1.207k
A/n: I don't know—I'm on my period! Give me grace.
CW- Each will have individual warnings but uhhh, fucking and straight pure no holding back freak nasty smut. (yeah that works)
Smoke
CW-519 words, Cowgirl, P in V, ear candy/praising(don't ask me to stop), ass slapping, and grabbing, usage of daddy(just the name y'all!!).
His cowgirl, he loved it. To see you bouncing and babbling on his dick. You straddled him, feet pressed flat against the mattress, toes scrunched up as you rolled your hips struggling to keep going. Arousal painted the man as he stared up at you grinning from the sight.
“Nuh uh suga’ keep goin’ don’ give out on me nah.” His hands bruised your hips as he cooed then drove his hips forward and deeper inside your gaping pussy.
The overhead fan couldn't even cool you down; the heat ran through your sweaty body, heart pacing so quickly it felt like it was trying to leap from your chest, and your hands held on to his forearms for dear life as you let out choked cries.
“Naaa-daddy! t-ouhhggh-too m-much!” You slowed your pace trying to catch your breath and in return, his hand struck your ass.
“Nah, ya been doin’ so good f’ me, keep it up, baby.” He slammed up in your aching hole, one hand holding the plush of your ass and the other wiping the tears off your cheeks.
“Look at you pretty girl, so good. Ain't ya good girl f’ me?”
“Uh huh!” You babbled, bobbing your head. Your hot walls curled around every inch of him, his cock throbbing as you glided over every sensitive vein of his length.
“Fuuuck, jus’ like tha’ pretty girl.” He rasped, his breath ragged.
Once you tried to fall forward you gained another strike to your ass.
“Stay up, lemme see ya.”
“B-ohhhhh-but-ughhhh.” You whined.
“No buts, stay ya pretty ass right where I have ya.”
You whimpered as you obeyed and caught your previous pace. Your pubic hair dragged against each other, your clit twitched, and your walls massaged all of him.
Your hands fell to either side of his chest, you leaned forward back arched in, and looked back at your fluids seeping from your sopping hole. With each roll of your hips, he dragged over your G-spot, and his tip flirted with your cervix.
“Ooohh fuuck, d-daddy!” You jerked, your orgasm hitting you hard, throat tight making your cries come out cracked, and your slick walls clutching him then releasing repetitively.
Your juices pooled on and under him, your hips spasmed while your body gave out and collapsed on him, your head over his shoulder.
It got quiet, his hand rubbing over your ass, your pants in his ear, and his in yours, your whole body trembled from the activity. His beard rubbed against your cheek, and his lips brushed your lobule.
“Alrigh’ can't leave ya a mess, huh suga’?” He purred while lifting from the bed.
“Hm?” You murmured.
“Bouta get in the bath, get ya cleaned up.”
“Nuh uh.” You shook your head, your legs squeezed tight around his hips to stay secure in his arms.
“Ain't no ‘nuh uh’, it wasn't a choice. I ain't leaving you a mess.” He replied sternly, You rolled your eyes, of course not in his sight, that would get you fucked senseless all over.
Plus, he was just caring in his own special way.
Stack
CW- 688 words Backshots(💨), impact play(just slapping), heavy degradation(you is smart, you is kind, you is important), filling that pus up/creampie, unprotected sex(what did I tell y'all bout this, no babies in my house), he's rough and mean as hell(chill at the end though), mirror sex.
He was trying to ruin you, correction he was ruining you. Each thrash was merciless, like he was determined to make sure you couldn’t move after. Your heavy breast knocked against your chin with every roll of his hip. The humid room was filled with the sounds of his pelvis slamming against your fluffy ass and the fat of your thighs slapping against each other.
“S-stack, f-fuuuck-ugghhgh!” You shrieked, your manicured nails digging at the sheets.
On all fours, a full-body mirror in front of the bed, the headboard slamming hard against the wall, the material of the bed squeaking in protest, he railed into you relentlessly destroying your insides.
It was mean and brutal, each thrust had the intention of engulfing every bit of you. Sweat trailed down your back and forehead, you felt like you had a fever, and your conflicted emotions didn't help, pleasure rode through you like a breeze, the pain however made your limbs shake and tears melted down your face.
“Nasty little bitch! Stupid for my dick like a whore.” He grunted, sending a hard strike to the back of your fat thigh.
You mewled, your head dropping between your arms, each ram making you squeal and squirm. You couldn't count how many times his cockhead met your cervix you just knew it was too many.
“Look at you, stupid little bitch for me. My slut, say it, say your Elias's slut.”
“I-ahhh-fuc-ughhh!” You could only whine, your chest rose and fell rapidly. That man had you gasping for air as he hammered into you with that stupidly attractive smirk on his face.
“Say it.” He rasped and sent another slap to your thigh.
He pressed his hand down on your lower back making a nasty arch in your back, with your ass rose, it slammed against his abdomen. The veins of his cock throbbing from the feelings of your gummy walls embracing all his inches, his cockhead twitched as he could feel his orgasm building.
“I-I’m Elias's slut,” You choked out, “good, that's righ’.” He cooed mockingly and pulled back till just his tip was being clutched by your sappy pussy then rammed back into you like a bull.
“Fuuuuck!!” Your head shot up, your toes curled so far back they dug into your foot, and you pulsated around his shaft. Before you could even begin to process anything, your cream covered him and the blankets beneath you.
A white ring was left around the man’s cock, you gave out, no longer able to take anymore but he wasn't finished. Tears raced down your cheeks and your thighs shook frantically while you softly gasped but he kept going, slamming your bodies together, keeping those walls right around him no matter how much you wanted to loosen, he drove himself in so deep it felt like he was past your cervix.
“P-please s’muuuch, s-slower- t-t’much.” You squirmed and begged him to be gentle.
“Nah you can take it. You're gonna take all this like the greedy bitch you are.” He groaned and kept his brutal pace that sent his balls slapping against you.
You whimpered and moaned, clawing at the sheets, til you felt his cock pulse and he bottomed out inside of you. The relief that you felt when he did was unmatched. Finally, you collapsed into the puddle of your juice beneath you, catching all the breath he knocked out of you.
You heard him rustling behind you and then watched him walk out of the room in only his boxers. You couldn't even bring yourself to ask what he was doing so you just awaited his return.
Your eyes were slowly shutting when you heard things getting tossed on the bed, chips, a bag of mini cookies, and a Powerade.
“Whatcha tryna watch? I'm thinkin’ transformers.” He dropped back down on the bed after finally turning on the fan. You squinted your eyes at him, was he serious?
Yep, dead serious. He browsed through options and you just shook your head and turned toward the TV.
It was an interesting form of aftercare, at least he was feeding you.
A/n: No comment. (this was straight horny bullshit.)
Synopsis: When Tasha gets sent to the twins residence to house sit, she learns very quickly that their rules are meant to be followed.
Warnings: Mental health issues, angst, crying, Age gap, heavy smut, degrading, use of toys, DP, domxsub relationship, polyamorous, use of drugs.
Part 1
-
“I don’t understand why you have to leave for 4 months and why I can’t stay here.” Tasha argued for the 30th time this week.
Her mom, Loraine, rolled her eyes. “I told you, you need to learn what it’s like to have a real job and not just rely on my own money. You’re 23 now, Tasha. You’re not a kid anymore. It’s time you learn some responsibility.” She continued to grab clothes from her walk in closet, neatly folding them and placing them in her suitcase.
“Why do I need to have a real job when we’re rich?” Tasha sat the edge of her mothers bed, frustration written all over her face.
“Because you’re a spoiled brat who thinks everything needs to be handed to her, plus this is your punishment for crashing your third car.”
Tasha is a prodigy of music, a grade A college student that’s on the deans list, president of the mathletes club, captain of the majorette team AND three time champion of the national chess tournament.
There was no doubt that she was talented and incredibly smart but Tasha had a side to her that her mother couldn’t tame. Two summers spent in rehab, several drunk driving accidents, multiple trips to the hospital when Tasha would be too inebriated to even open her eyes. Her mother lived in constant fear and yet Tasha never failed to keep her grades up, to uphold that pretty and pristine imagine she showcased at school, in front of other family members and even her closest friends. No one really saw her for who she truly was except for her parents. It’s the reason her mother couldn’t be too hard on her, one part afraid Tasha would one day snap and do something irreversible, other part being the fact that despite it all, she still remained the perfect imagine of who her daughter should be…
The night of the incident, Tasha had relapsed. The drugs entered her system the way a man does, fast and brutal. She didn’t mean to, hadn’t even planned on being outside that night but her thoughts got too loud and so she followed the silence. Her body had shut down way before got in her car, she didn’t even remember it swerving and hitting a pole.
Her mother worried more about having to pay people off to keep this off the news, than she did about her daughter’s concussion and drug abuse problems. Singer, author and entrepreneur, Loraine Brown, refused to let anyone look at her or her family in a bad light. She didn’t care how much money she had to pay.
“How could you possibly punish a 23 year old? I’m a grown woman.”
“Girl, long as you live under my roof, you follow my rules. Okay? If you don’t like it, move out.”
“Great. Give me the money and I will.”
Loraine scoffed. “You’re unbelievable. You lucky I’m not my mother or I would’ve beat your ass for talking back to me.”
“I’m not talking back. We’re having a conversation.” Tasha shrugged as if it the was simplest answer she could give.
“Giiirrrrl—” Loraine let out a humorless laugh. “Tasha, stop tryna be smart with me before I do sum to you.” Her dad walked in the room, eyes pointed at his daughter indicating he heard the whole ordeal.
“Dad, you have nothing to say about her sending me off to live with some random strangers for four months? Are you not concerned for my safety?” She gave him puppy eyes, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.
“They’re not strangers. Your mother has know them since they was kids. I’ve met them plenty of times. I trust them, you’ll be fine.” He waved her off as he grabbed his suitcase from the closet, lining it up at the door to take downstairs.
“They’re like family Tash, stop being so dramatic. Plus you don’t have to live there, you could always drive back.”
“It’s like a 2 hour drive, Ma! Who is doing that shit everyday?!” Tasha stood up as if it’ll help get her point across. “This is just crazy. I’d rather you take away my car than have to sit here and act like a maid to two grown ass men”
Loraine sucked her teeth. “Tasha, please? You’re not about to be nobody’s maid, you just have to handle their household duties while they’re gone.”
“Plus, you’re about to be spending two months in a big ass mansion with a huge infinity pool, a game and movie theater room. This ain’t even a punishment, it sounds like a fucking vacation.”
Tasha sighed loudly. “Whatever.” She moved away from her mother and walked out the room. To say she was upset was an understatement. Her mother was backpacking through Europe and didn’t trust her enough to leave her in the house all alone while she was gone, so when the twins called asking if she knew of anyone she trusted enough to watch their house while they ran business, she immediately volunteered her daughter.
-
Tasha wasn’t much help and the twins quickly noticed. She’d wake up at whatever time, leave dishes in the sink, talk too loudly on the phone and stink up the house with weed. It had been about two weeks of the same bullshit.
From the moment she had arrived, Tasha greeted them with nothing but attitude and a scowl on her face. She rolled her eyes at every little thing and ignored any instructions given to her. The first few days she lazily tended to her tasks. She’d take the dogs out for only 10 minutes instead of the 30 that they needed. Packages were left outside and sometimes ruined from the rain. And most of the time, she’d be asleep and miss the maintenance crew when they would show up to do their job.
-
“Tasha, can you explain to me why I found dog shit in my office?” Smoke looked at the woman that lay sprawled out on the couch.
“Do I look like your dogs for you to be asking me that?”
Smoke sighed heavily. “Our dogs don’t shit in the house unless someone forgot to take them out, specially not in my damn office that’s supposed to be locked.”
“I took them out and they didn’t do anything. Not my fault I can’t control their bowl movements.” She popped her gum at him before turning her attention back to the TV.
-
Tasha did just the bare minimum and yet even that wasn’t done properly. The boys tried their hardest to be patient, understanding that she was just doing this to get a rise out of them and her mother. They realized that the young woman had never known what it was like to be disciplined or to be punished for her actions. Tasha’s mother was many things but a firm parent wasn’t one of them. It’s the reason Tasha walked around like nothing could hurt her, like her actions had no effect on anyone or anything.
Day in and day out, Tasha tested the waters with the twins. They tried to be respectful, talk to her like the grown woman that she was but she shrugged it off, laughed in their faces and went about doing whatever she wanted. Smoke’s anger was slowly boiling over and Stack no longer found her funny. Her mother warned them, told them that Tasha wasn’t easy to manage but that she didn’t know what to do anymore and hoped that a few weeks with them, and some responsibility, would help shape her.
But no.
Tasha was just impossible to deal with and tonight the twins finally snapped.
Long flight and an even longer drive home had Smoke and Stack practically seeing double from the exhaustion. Their bodies stiffly walked up to the front door, unlocked it and stepped inside.
The first thing they noticed, well heard, was the music blasting through the surround sound system, then the smell of weed and food.
Stacks jaw tightened, the two exchanging a look before walking to the kitchen to find Tasha in nothing but a white tank top and red panties. She was dancing, completely oblivious to the two men watching her.
She sang along to the words, arms flailing in the air and hips moving side to side. The twins tried their best to keep their eyes at an appropriate level but they slowly trailed down the second her ass moved to the beat of the song.
Smoke cleared his throat, walking to the counter where her phone sat and clicked to turn off the music. Tasha jumped in surprise, her eyes widening as she placed a hand to her chest to calm her beating heart.
“Fuck, yall scared the shit outta me.” She laughed the fear off before digging into the container of fries she had on the kitchen counter. “Yall back early. Had fun?”
Stack raised an eyebrow, taking a deep breath before daring to open his mouth. “Tasha… why tf the house look like this?”
She looked around, having the nerve to be confused. “Like what?”
“You blind?” Smoke scrunched his face up, before walking past her and towards the sink that had a pile of dishes. “We got a fucking dishwasher. There should be no reason these shits sittin here like this.”
Stack looked down at the floor, staring at the smudges and dark marks. “Look at this floor, fuck was you doing? Eating on it?”
Smoke sniffed the air. “And I told yo ass stop fucking smoking in our house. Take that shit outside.”
Tasha looked between the two before rolling her eyes. “Yall are so dramatic. I’ll clean it up tomorrow.” She grabbed her phone and her fries then walked out of the kitchen, leaving the twins standing there brewing.
“Tasha!” Smoke yelled out. “I know you heard us talking to you!”
“Get ya ass back over here!” Stack followed after the woman who sighed loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
“Whaaaaat?? Ya just got back and already bothering me.”
“Bothering you? You got me fucked up.” Stack looked at her with pure bewilderment.
“No YOU got me fucked up. Yall practically been gone for the whole three weeks I’ve been here and have left me to pick up after yall stinky ass dogs and them nasty ass maintenance men who come in here tracking dirt and shit. I ain’t no damn maid.”
“You so damn dramatic. You barely gotta do anything and yet you still complaining. The dogs stink cause YOU have to bathe them.”
“Why don’t YOU do it before leaving to do whatever bullshit it is that yall do all day.”
Stack pinched in nose in annoyance, a humorless chuckle slipping past his lips. “Tasha. Just clean the house before I loose my mind.”
“Boy I ain’t scared of you. It’ll get done tomorrow, like I said.” She rolled her eyes, placing one hand on her hip.
Smoke walked up to Tasha before Stack could interfere. He backed her up onto the wall, body towering over her like a shadow. “Clean my fucking house up before I make you, Tasha.”
Tasha’s heart skipped a beat, her breathing got caught in her throat and for the time in two weeks she felt small.
Tasha was used to being able to walk all over her parents, though they tried to be harsh on her, it never worked.
But Smoke wasn’t having that and something deep inside of Tasha stirred dangerously.
Smoke caught it, the glint in her eyes and the way they almost glossed over. How her chest stuttered and her breathing deepened. He arched an eyebrow, half in curiosity, other half in knowing. Stack caught it too, the two exchanged a look that Tasha didn’t have time to process. “Did I stutter? Clean my fucking house, Tasha. Now.”
The bass in his tone rattled Tasha’s bones enough to get her legs moving. “Okay.” She mumbled before she walked around him and headed to the kitchen where she figured she’d start. Her heart raced in a way that felt too familiar and yet strange. It was addicting.
-
By the time the sun shined through her curtains, Tasha had already been wide awake. Better yet, she had barely slept.
Her body was humming loudly and so she spent the night tossing and turning around. She chucked it up to being sore from all the cleaning but she knew better.
Tasha grabbed the comforter, pulling it up and covering her head, hoping that she could get at least 30 minutes of shut eye. But before she could even close her eyes, Stack knocked on her door.
“Get up. We got shit to do.”
“Go away. I’m tired!”
“I don’t give a fuck if you’re tired. Get the fuck up, Tasha.” Stack yelled, banging on the door 1 time as a warning sign before he walked off.
She groaned loudly, kicking her legs like a child before getting up and heading to the bathroom.
The kitchen smelled of bacon, eggs and waffles. Tasha watched the muscles of Smoke’s back move as he plated the food. She felt her mouth water in a way she knew wasn’t aimed towards the food. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She’d never looked at the twins as nothing more than two grown man trying to act like they had any authority over her. To her, they were a joke.
But the way Smoke raised his voice peaked an interest in her she had yet to discover.
“Nice of you to join us. Good morning.” He spoke without turning around.
“Morning. Don’t you think it’s too early for you and the other stooge to be bothering me?” She sat on the kitchen counter, crossing her long brown legs that were freshly moisturized with shea butter. The pink cotton romper she wore hugged her curves a bit tighter than usual.
“It’s 9am. That’s the time normal people wake up and get their day started.” Smoke turned around, handing her a plate and a fork. His eyes roamed her body without permission. He hadn’t bothered looking at her before, not really, not until last night and those red panties that cupped her ass like hands and the look in her eyes when he put her in her place.
Smoke knew what it meant and he felt the need to scratch that itch that was slowly forming but Stack kept trying to convince him it wouldn’t be a good idea.
That turning their friend’s daughter into their perfect little submissive would end up with somebody getting hurt.
“That’s old people shit. Normal people stay in bed till 12pm.” Tasha mumbled with a mouthful of food.
“You’re just lazy and chew before you open ya mouth.” Stack walked in, hoodie on and bad mood written all over his face.
“The hell wrong with you?” Tasha commented, mugging him as she continued to devour her plate. It had been her first real taste of a home cooked meal in almost 3 weeks.
Stack watched her, took in her big doe eyes that clocked his every move, the curly puff sitting perfectly on top of her head and the curve of her neck that was almost inviting him to wrap his hand around it. He sighed deeply, his mind had been running rampant since last night.
Him and Smoke stayed up most of the night, talking about possibilities that were impossible.
They’ve had submissives before, a lifestyle that they left behind years ago when their business started getting too serious to keep extra bodies around. But they missed it and Tasha’s bratty behavior had awaken that dormant feeling.
Smoke was all for it, he wanted to start off slow and see how far they could get but Stack knew better. It was surprising to see how the roles were reversed, Smoke usually being the more logical one, but he had been frustrated beyond belief and was desperately seeking some relief.
“You know what? Maybe yall need to get laid. I could imagine you two losers don’t get much play walking around like the damn grinch— have yall tried smiling once in a while?” Tasha smirked, lightly chuckling at her own joke.
“Have you tried shutting tf up once in a while?” Smoke watched his brother, who looked like he was two seconds away from throwing a tantrum. His lips twitched, trying to hold back the laugh that was crawling up his throat. He knew that Stack wanted nothing more to than to follow through on all the fantasies that played in his head all night long.
That look, that innocent little look that she gave Smoke completely changed the way they perceived her.
That was all it took.
There was no doubt that Tasha was sexy. She was thick, brown skinned with a head full of tight curls. Smart mouth and intelligent when she felt like it. A tease without meaning to be and soft in ways she didn’t notice.
But they tried their best to be reverent. To keep their comments, their thoughts and perversions to themselves but now. Now things were different.
Now they knew what she wanted even if Tasha didn’t know herself.
“Did somebody crawl up your ass and die this morning, Stackypooh?” She poked her bottom lip out in a fake pout.
“Wished it was you.”
Tasha snickered. “Oh I’m sure you do. So you can actually know what it feels like to be touched by a woman?”
Stacks jaw tightened. “You consider yourself a woman? You’re a little ass girl.”
“And yet here you are going back and forth with a ‘little ass girl’ what does that say about you Stackypooh?”
“You know what. I should b—”
“Aight now. Y’all done ?” Smoke cut in, sending a look to his brother before turning back to Tasha. “We going grocery shopping. Go get dressed.”
“I’m already dressed.” Tasha stands up, motioning her hands down her body.
The twins look her up and down, taking in the way the fabric of the romper wrapped tightly around her thighs and ass. The way her pierced nipples pressed softly against the cotton and yet you could still see the print of them.
Smoke took a deep breath and Stack rubbed his jaw. “You call that an outfit?”
Tasha raised her eyebrow at Smoke, looking down at herself before looking back up. “Yes? Do you have a problem with that?”
“No. Let’s go.”
“Yes sir.” Tasha replied with a roll of her eyes.
The twins stop in their tracks. Smoke as he grabbed the car keys and Stack as he picked up his phone. Their eyes meet Tasha’s back as she walked out of the kitchen to head back up to her room and grab her shoes.
Stack groans in frustration before heading out the door and towards the garage.
-
“Ooouu can we get some hot Cheetos?” Tasha grabbed the big family sized bag of chips and held it up.
“No. You gotta stop eating that nasty shit.” Smoke commented as he walked past her.
“It’s not nasty.” She followed after him. “Please?”
The twins ignored her, walking to the next aisle while she slowly trailed behind them.
Her hand wrapped around Stacks biceps, his eyes met hers and the small pout that sat on her face. “Pleaseeeeeeeee.” She whined.
Stack had to bite his tongue to keep the fire that had just been lit, from burning the both of them in the middle of the supermarket.
“Just put it in the cart and let’s go.” Tasha squealed happily, placing the giant bag in the cart and smirking at Smoke who grilled her.
By the time they got home, Tasha was practically sprinting out of the car and heading to her room to grab her blunt and lighter.
The twins headed to the kitchen to put away the groceries.
“Yo thoughts too damn loud.” Smoke commented.
“So stop listening.” Stack added on.
“I can’t. Not when we on the same page.”
Stack shook his head. “We gotta stop. We can’t drag her into that shit.”
“We do it different this time. Not like how we used to. We take a different approach.”
Tasha’s footsteps echoed throughout the house. They listened to the sound of the front door open and close.
“We test it out first. See how she reacts to certain shit and go from there. You saw how she looked at me. We know that reaction all too well. It’s something there waiting to be let out. You know that.” Smoke continued.
Stack nodded. “We test it out.”
“That’s all I needed to hear.”
-
Tag List
Please let me know if I’m missing anyone.
Also very rough part 1. I really just wanted to hurry up and get this out so I can continue the other parts 🤣
A/n: I can’t even describe how surprised and happy I am, by the support and love you guys showed to part one. I am extremely obsessed and in love with these twins, and this is exactly what we all mean when we say we want to pair of Jordans, Amen?
Elias?” You mumbled, staring at the scene in front of you in horror.
Blood. All the blood. It was all you could focus on—the crimson liquid seeping from the side of Stacks’ neck, painting the ground in a gruesome tapestry of life and pain. Stacks, who was withering on the ground, struggled to move, his body twitching as if trying to fight against the inevitable.
The next thing you heard were gunshots, sharp and echoing in the air, as Smoke lit Mary up, each bullet finding its mark in her body. Just when you thought the chaos couldn’t escalate further, she dropped to the floor, only to rise again, defying the laws of life and death. Your ears were ringing from the close proximity of Smoke’s gunfire, but all you could see was Stacks.
As you inched toward him, desperate to reach him, Mary bolted toward you, pushing you out of the way with a force that sent you sprawling to the ground.
Hastily, you scrambled to your knees, crawling as fast as you could toward Stacks, your heart racing.
“Elias!” You screamed, horror twisting your voice.
There was an entire chunk of skin missing between the top of his neck and shoulder, a gaping wound that made you feel sick. Without a second thought, you tore off your shawl and pressed it against the injury, your hands trembling. Smoke, his face a mask of fury and fear, lifted his twin brother slightly, cradling his head in his lap.
“She fucking bit me, baby,” he coughed out, his mouth stained with blood, each word a struggle.
“Smoke, what do we do—?” you stammered, panic creeping into your voice.
“Fuck, just hold it!” he barked, his own desperation evident as he tried to help you stem the flow of blood from Stacks’ neck.
“I’m sorry,” Stacks wheezed, the sound barely escaping his lips. You felt one of his hands tap your elbow weakly.
“I don’t care! I don’t care about anything else; I just need you to stay with me, okay?” You begged, tears streaming down your cheeks as you kept pressure on the wound with one hand and reached down to hold one of his.
He squeezed your hand back, but only for a moment. You felt his grip loosen, and that arm fell limp, a chilling realization settling over you like a dark cloud.
“Elias, please!” you cried, your voice breaking as fear clawed at your insides.
“I love you,” he said, looking you dead in the eye, his gaze piercing through the pain, though his own eyes were mere slits now.
“I love you, big brother,” he murmured this time to Smoke, the words a whisper of tenderness amidst the chaos, before a gurgling sound escaped his lips, followed by an eerie silence.
“Elias?” You called, your heart racing, but there was no response.
“Elias!” You shouted again, desperation flooding your voice as you shook him gently, hoping against hope for a miracle.
But he was gone.
The world around you faded into a blur, the sounds of gunfire and chaos dimmin' as the weight of loss crashed down upon you like a heavy shroud. You felt a coldness seep into your bones, a chill that had nothin' to do with the night air—it was the icy grip of despair.
“Elias…” you whispered, his name hangin' in the air like a haunting melody, a promise left unfulfilled.
You couldn’t move. All you could do was stare at your hand clutchin' his. His hand was quickly turnin' cold, life leavin' him with every passing second.
Smoke's face twisted in agony as he cradled his brother, the bond of twinhood shattered in an instant. You could see the rage buildin' within him, a storm of emotions that threatened to erupt at any moment, ready to lash out at the world for takin' his brother away.
“Smoke, we have to move the body outside,” you urged, your voice shaky.
“Ain’t nobody touchin' my brother,” he seethed, fury and heartbreak intertwining in his words.
Coverin' your mouth to choke down another sob, the reality that Stack was no longer here played on a loop in your mind, a cruel reminder of what you’d lost.
“Y/n, you too, baby,” your sister said gently, rubbin' your shoulders, tryin' to coax you into movin'.
With trembling hands, you reached out, runnin' your fingers softly over his forehead before pressin' your own to his. You closed your eyes, wishin' for one last moment, one final chance to tell him how you felt.
“I should’ve told you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “I should’ve told you how much you mean to me.”
Your lip trembled as you leaned over, placing a tender kiss on his forehead, a goodbye you wished you didn’t have to say. Annie helped you up and out of the room, her grip firm yet comforting.
You paused at the doorway, lookin' back at Stack one last time, the sight of him still feelin' unreal.
“Come on, y/n,” Annie urged, her voice gentle yet insistent. You turned your gaze to your sister, who could see the hurt and pain in your eyes. Her heart ached for you and for her lover. Tears flowed freely down your face.
“I didn’t get to say it back, sista,” you whispered, the weight of your unspoken words hangin' heavy between you.
Haint.
That’s what your sister thought it was, but you all quickly found out she wasn’t too far off.
See, a Haint, in plain terms, was a malicious ghost. Restless spirits who, for some reason, hadn’t moved on.
But no.
No Haint would be handled between you and Annie, but vampires? That was a whole 'nother beast.
This was another type of evil you weren’t equipped to deal with. Not one that wore the face of the person you loved. When you saw him walkin' back up to that front door, lookin' alive as if nothin' had happened, givin' you that signature smirk, gold ones shinin’ like it was any other day, you were floored. You wanted nothin' more than to reach out, grab him, and make sure he was real.
Once Smoke closed the door, it stood still in front of it, unmoving. You prayed this was all a joke. You prayed Stack would just walk through that door and tell you that everything was gonna be okay.
But that didn’t happen.
You weren’t sure how he knew you were still on the other side of the door while the others were further away, tryin' to come up with some sort of plan, but you began to hear him whisper your name.
Or did you?
You weren’t sure what was real or fake anymore, and it was startin' to drive you mad. The voice of one of your very best friends askin' you to open up, plead in' with you, tryin' to assure you that everything was okay and nothin' was as bad as it seemed.
“Bam.” You shut your eyes tight as the sweet, silky voice of the man you loved coaxed you from the other side of the door.
“Elias, please,” you whispered, your voice tremblin' with confusion and longing.
“Open the door for me, Bam.”
“Just… I don’t understand,” you stammered, your heart racin' as it fought against the logic of your mind.
Your brain knew the truth. It wasn’t him. But your heart didn’t care, and right now, the two were at war with each other.
Everything you and your sister had grown up knowin' about magic and creatures that go bump in the night—it was all real, and it was literally at your front door. Yet, your heart struggled to see anything but Stack.
The man you had fallen so deeply in love with when you were just sixteen—the man you were still hopelessly in love with now. Except now, there was no longer a livin', breathin' Elias, but rather somethin' undead.
Vampire.
“Just open up for me, and I promise you, everything is gonna be okay, baby.” His voice flowed like honey, each word drippin' with the kind of sweet reassurance that used to melt your heart.
“Elias…” you breathed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions, a fragile whisper that barely escaped your lips.
“Open the door, Bam.” This time, his tone was still gentle, yet there was an undeniable firmness to it that sent your heart racing, pulling you in like a moth to a flame.
“I can’t do that,” you sniffled, not bothering to conceal the hurt that laced your voice. “It’s not really you, ‘Lias.”
You pressed your forehead and hand against the door, wishing for nothin' more than to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, to bring him back to you in any way that you could.
“But I am, Y/n. It’s still me, girl. There’s only one me, baby.” He joked in that familiar way that made your heart swell, even now, even in this twisted moment. “I’m just… better now. Everything is so much better.”
From the outside, Stack leaned against the door, his forehead pressed against the same spot where you stood, as if he could feel your presence through the wood, tethered to you by an invisible thread.
“No fear, no pain. Shit’s just beautiful.” You listened, entranced, as he went on, his voice smooth and enticing, painting a picture of a world where everything was normal. “And you’re beautiful.”
Mary, who had originally stood by giggling, enjoying the show of what she thought was her man trying to gain entry into the juke joint, recoiled at his words, her expression shifting from amusement to disbelief.
The hive mind they had formed once connected to Remmick allowed her to see into Stack’s thoughts as well. It wasn’t what she thought it would be.
Inside Stack’s mind…
Once he became part of the hive, she assumed his deepest, most inner thoughts would be of her—of their love, their connection.
But what was funny was that the bond they shared was nothin' more than the connection of two people who loved the same person back.
See, while Stack may have loved Annie, he breathed you.
It changed the landscape of her emotions as the vampire form tried to reason within, but deep down, she knew.
Stack was never really hers.
He was yours.
He always would be.
“You are beautiful, and you will be beautiful—on the outside and the inside,” Stack spoke convincingly, his tone a mix of charm and desperation that echoed in your chest. “And you and I? We will be together. No problems, no worries.”
Your fingers played with the latch on the door, the metal cool against your skin. You knew you couldn’t invite him in, but wouldn’t it be okay if you just looked at him? If you could see him, talk to him face-to-face, maybe you could reason with him. Fix him.
“We want you,” Stack said from the other side, his voice dripping with longing, like a lover’s whisper in the dark. “I want you.”
“But Stack—” Mary tried to interject, her tone tinged with concern, but one sharp look from him silenced her instantly.
“Shut up, bitch,” he seethed, the darkness that filtered into his voice made you recoil, snapping you out of the trance you didn’t even realize you were in, the warmth of his charm replaced by a chilling edge.
“I just want you,” he repeated, urgency creeping into his voice, raw and desperate. “It could be me and you.”
“Now open the fucking door!” Stack screamed, the sound of his fist slamming against the wood made you jump back, colliding into Smoke, who you hadn’t realized was standin' there, along with the others—watchin' you with sad, worried eyes as you broke down.
Smoke gently took one of your hands and squeezed it tight, his other hand resting on your back, guiding you away from the door toward Annie, a protective shield against the darkness.
“Come on, sister. You got to stop torturing yourself.” Annie’s voice was low and steady, filled with concern that wrapped around you like a warm blanket.
“Get the fuck on outta here, Stack!” Smoke threatened, takin' your place at the front door, ready to protect you from whatever darkness loomed on the other side, his stance firm and unwavering. “Fo’ I give you the pain you lookin’ for.”
“It’s okay, baby. I’ve already won,” Stack said, his voice dripping with a mix of confidence and something darker, leaving a chill in the air that seeped into your bones.
You struggled to catch your breath, disoriented and unsure how you ended up in the back of a car. The vehicle felt foreign, likely belonging to someone who had come to enjoy the evening’s festivities, not knowing what they’d fall victim to.
The world around you faded into a blur, drowned out by the sound of your ragged breaths and the pounding of your heart.
You blinked slowly, trying to clear the fog from your mind. Each time you shut your eyes, the horrific memories of the last half hour flashed before you like a relentless slideshow.
Grace. Taunted by Bo before she snapped, letting the horror in.
“Bam.”
Those of you who remained inside the juke joint were doing your best to arm yourselves before the undead descended upon you, ready to invade your sanctuary.
You blinked rapidly, feeling tears swell in your eyes, the last wave of grief crashing over you as you closed them tight.
You watched Delta sacrifice himself, as you felt Mary’s claws sinking into your abdomen, her whispers echoing in your mind at the memory of her claiming him as hers, before being suddenly thrown away from you.
“Bam.”
All you could do was watch as Smoke hovered above Annie, who had spared you a glance. She was muttering words you couldn’t understand; your ears filled with a deafening white noise.
A moment later, you watched your sister’s husband drive a stake through her heart. You could feel her essence leaving this plane, taking a piece of you with her as she slipped away.
“Bam.”
Everyone was gone. The people you grew up with, the ones you loved—they were all dead or turned to the undead. You looked down, the vision of your hand blurring in and out of focus as you felt something slick coating your fingers.
Blood.
This time, the blood on your hands was yours.
“Come on, Bam, look at me.” A voice said softly.
You blinked hard, your vision clearing as you finally focused on the face before you.
“Elias?”
A feeling you couldn’t quite describe washed over you. You were torn between wanting to scream and shout or attempting to run away, even though deep down, you knew you were in no condition to do so. You should be scared of him, but you didn't have the energy to feel fear. You were dying.
The air around you was thick with dread, the acrid smell of smoke and blood mingling in your nostrils, a stark reminder of the chaos that had consumed the night. With your last few moments in this lifetime approaching fast, you considered it might be a blessing to lay eyes on the face of your soulmate one last time.
With a shaky hand, you reached up, caressing the side of his face gently, yearning for the warmth that once radiated from him.
Stack let out a sigh of relief, the sound echoing in the stillness. You had been in and out of consciousness for what felt like an eternity as he picked you up and carried you away from the madness.
Stack looked down at the spot you’d been holding, your dress now darkened with blood, a stark contrast against the fabric.
The scent of you flooded his senses, and he couldn’t help the drool that pooled in his mouth, salivating at the thought of how you would taste. Yet, he fought against his new nature, focusing solely on you.
“Did you mean it?” you choked out, bringing his attention back to your face, your voice a fragile whisper.
“I did. I do.” He confessed, relishing the warmth of your touch against his cold skin. “I’ve been in love with you since I was a youngin’. I’ll always want you, even if you don’t want me.”
You looked into his glowing red eyes, filled with sincerity, and a pained laugh escaped your lips, tinged with irony.
“Even undead, your insecurities are screamin’,” you smiled, your teeth stained with blood. Your fingertips caressed his skin, grateful you could finally see him one last time. “I never wanted Smoke, Elias. I only ever wanted you.”
“I ain’t ever been nobody’s but yours, Y/n.” His rough voice whispered, filled with longing. “I will always be yours. I just need you to stay with me.”
You thought about it. Everyone else you loved was already gone, and you felt a hollow emptiness where your heart was supposed to be. You were on the brink of death yourself.
“C’mon now. I need to hear you say it. Tell me you wanna stay.” Stack pleaded, feeling your heartbeat slow beneath his fingers. He cradled your head in his hands, desperate for you to focus on him.
He wanted you to stay with him forever, but he didn’t want to take away your choice. He had taken enough from you tonight already.
“Please don’t leave me.”
Your thumb ghosted over his lip, and even half-dead, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him one last time.
Did it have to be the last time?
“I wanna stay,” you whispered through half-lidded eyes.
It was then Stack kissed you, kissed you the way he had pictured so many times before. You reciprocated, both of you ignoring the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. When you pulled apart, he kissed your forehead a few times before resting his on yours. He then took your hand in his, kissing your palm, then your wrist.
“It’s gon’ be alright, don’t you worry. I got you.”
