Hand That Feeds|| Stack x Mary x Black!Reader One Shot
Summary: All you have ever wanted was to do was sing and a contest at a blues bar is your last chance. When you catch the attention of two vampires, everything you know about the living and the dead, fame and fortune, transforms.
This is a now a one shot and 18+ for some mentions of violence, use your discretion. Enjoy!
Edit: No idea why I thought the post credit took place in nyc but I fixed it!
“Take your time,baby!”
It was all too loud, your church shoes somehow squeaking on the carpeted floor, feedback from the microphone threatening to break through at any second, the light snores of a deacon somewhere behind you.
Why didn't they just let you do a recitation instead?
It was all too itchy, the dress, the stockings, the burn in your kitchen from where your least favorite aunt volunteered to do your hair and everybody else was too busy to say no.
Look at me.
Somehow you heard your mama without her saying a word, locked eyes with her,and focused on the one word she was mouthing.
Breathe.
You took as big a breath as a fourth grader in her big sister’s Easter turned Christmas dress could muster and just like that the world went quiet.
The song itself didn’t matter, the church faded away behind your closed eyes and a new world revealed itself to you, whispered to you, bowed to you. A cool breeze from a land you never stepped foot in, the laugh of a grandmother you never met.
Joy, uninterrupted and unbridled joy.
Until applause ripped you from your quiet little empire, your mother picking you up with one arm like she used to when you were much smaller, peppering kisses all over your face.
“That’s my baby, she’s gonna be a star y’all!”
She didn’t know about the phantom breeze or the laughter of the dead, and she never would.
For there are things little black girls are not supposed to be nor do: loud, fresh, and lifting the veil between this world and the next.
You did not know it then but something, two somethings to be precise, those who existed between the living and the dead, heard you.
And they were hungry and waiting.
FIFTEEN YEARS LATER - 1995
“I’m sorry but we’ve decided to go in a less urban direction, you understand right?”
You understood exactly what the Biltmore twins in matching blowouts and Guess jeans meant. You should have known an ad looking for “girls with attitude” was trouble to begin with but you couldn’t help it, this was going to be it, your big break.
Two months in, you made the mistake of truly singing one good time instead of just backing up two rich girls a wrong note loved to see coming.
You felt that wind and your big sister who didn’t make it to her senior prom’s hand in yours the very moment your voice soared in a vocal booth over drums no one else could hear, and for sixty seconds before Daddy Biltmore turned your mic down, you were free.
“I understand completely and I’d like my songbook and sheet music back that you took when I came in, please.”
“I think you know why we can’t do that, it’s in your contract.”
There it is; your voice, their mouths, your music, their faces and just like that, the urban wasn’t so urban anymore.
This was confirmed when you were thrown into the rain city streets with nothing. Fifteen years of music, gone.
“Hi sweetie, it’s Mama. I haven’t heard from you in a few days, I know you’ve been working but this isn’t like you. You’re grown, I’m not gonna drag you home, but please call me.”
The answering machine clicked off and you reached for the cordless only to chicken out and put the phone back on the receiver and continue to groan face down into your pillow.
What could you say to her that wouldn’t put her and Daddy on the first flight to Chicago?
“Come on down to the Sammie Moore Heritage Showcase at Pearline’s! Honor the late great Sammie Moore and perform for a chance at $5,000!”
You perked up at that, scrambling to write down the address and check the clock.
It started five minutes ago.
95 expletives and two taxis later, you faced down a bouncer, soaking wet.
“Come on,I gotta get in there, what’s it gonna take?”
“We’re at capacity, no can do.” The bouncer said while letting a large group of people in with a completely straight face.
The sun went down as you formed an argument in preparation to be manhandled by a bouncer but with one hand outstretched to yank you out of line, the bouncer froze.
September in Chicago could get cold but it was if winter reached up to tap you on the shoulder, a sharp and yearning cold settled behind you.
“We knew the owner, if you’d be so kind as to let us in.” A soft voice with a purring drawl that made your mouth water spoke first.
“I’d have to check the list.” The bouncer said in a sleepy tone he certainly didn’t have while talking to you minutes ago.
“We’re family, go on now.”
A second voice chimed in, honey deep and audacious, and you couldn’t help it, you turned around.
You turned around and received a benediction of curved lips and smooth skin, bamboo earrings, and golden teeth behind a far too serrated smile.
Sunglasses hide their eyes from your gawking and the thirty second exchange ended with the bouncer letting them in and you somehow managed to sneak in behind them while the bouncer rubbed his eyes. You could hear his shouts but they faded as you melted into the crowd and raced to find the sign up sheet for performers.
As fate or something else entirely would have it, there was one spot left.
One spot left and all of your music had been ripped away from you.
By the time the MC called you to the stage you were more than a few drinks in, searching for a song with every step you took towards the piano. Awkward whispers and hecklers as you stuttered out a greeting only made your heart pick up the pace.
Look at me.
In the deep recesses of your mind there was a tiny command to gaze beyond the spotlight and into the crowd, fingers hovering over the keys.
A sea of shadowy faces were there, some more annoyed than others that you hadn’t played a single note yet, others waiting patiently.
At the very back of the room, two pairs of glowing eyes caught yours.
Breathe.
With that, you sing out for the first time in months and allow this world to step to the side and enter another.
Across the room, the vampires known as Elias “ Stack” and Mary Moore begin to cry and drool.
In between the notes you hit, Mary hears her mother’s voice close to her ear and Smoke asks his brother for a cigarette.
You were the one they were looking for.
Some time later you would go home with $5,000 in your pocket.
Across town some time after that, a maid discovers the bodies of the Biltmore family.
Your songbook and sheet music were nowhere to be found as Stack and Mary found it rude to show up empty handed and uninvited.
That’s all I got! please interact with this post so this doesn’t get buried in the tags. I hope you liked it, I’m not too sure about it.
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.”
I don’t need to write a stack x mary x black!reader that takes place in the 90s about a girl who gets kicked out of a girl group and will do anything to be the biggest artist alive
I don’t need to write a stack x mary x black!reader that takes place in the 90s about a girl who gets kicked out of a girl group and will do anything to be the biggest artist alive
I don’t need to write a stack x mary x black!reader that takes place in the 90s about a girl who gets kicked out of a girl group and will do anything to be the biggest artist alive
