#stack and smoke

It’d been a long night for everyone.

It didn’t take long to figure out what the pale trio from earlier was really after, especially after Mary got back in and tried to off Stack. Annie was the first to ask the important questions while Smoke checked him over.

“She tried to bite me-“, and from that plus them asking earlier if they could be invited in, the answer came. Vampires.

The first order of business was to keep everyone inside. There was the usual fair share of complaining but no real protests once the situation was made clear: this was real and happening- leaving meant death. Period. Everyone had lives and families to get back to; even the ones that didn’t still had things they wanted to do so living was essential. Next, every window and door was locked shut.

“Well what if I gotta piss?” Cornbread whined out. A couple people shouted in agreement with him but Smoke wasn’t playing.

“Then yo ass can piss right from behind that door.” And the sound of his gun cocking made that end of discussion. Lastly, everyone had to take at least one bite of garlic to make sure no one got bit in all the fuss of the initial panic. Pearline complained, Sammie got knocked in the mouth, Stack almost caught it too because Smoke ain’t have to hit the boy like that and Delta Slim almost died since raw garlic and liquor don’t mix. Shaking your head, his old ass know damn well.

Y’all did what you could to help Stack grieve losing Mary- now you’re not saying she deserved it but god’s timing is always right. Slowly but surely, once the tension of the situation set in a bit, everyone got more comfortable. It’s just staying until the sun comes up. Delta got back on the keys, filling the room with a lazy but heavy tune, drinks got to being served again but since Sammy was temporarily banned from singing for the night, he and Pearline took to the floor with the other couples. Meanwhile the rest were either playing cards, dice, drinking or arguing.

“Mmhm! That’s why he ain’t here tonight!”

“Ya bullshittin’!”

“I ain’t! Ask anyone! Smoke shot em clear in the ass! Got the limp and erry’ thang!” The man vividly recounts what he saw earlier that day to the other slack jawed men at the table when Smoke came to get some stuff for the juke in order. It shouldn’t have been funny but you giggle anyways, leaning in to whisper in Bo’s ear over the music.

“S’that true?” He nods, grinning. You shake your head lightly at that as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“How you feelin’, baby?” You hum, laying your head on his shoulder as you answer back.

“Sleepy. I wanna go home. Want you back to myself..”.

Bo’s eyes widen. Out of all the things, you just wanting to go home so y’all could be alone was what was bothering you? A fond smile dimples his cheeks as he presses another kiss to the top of your head, holding you closer to him. Voice dipping low as he gets close to your ear,

“I want you all to myself too…in bed…where I could-”, by the end, you’re flushing.

Meanwhile Smoke and Stack are off arguing in the corner office.

“See? I told you to let me handle it!” Smoke yells in his brothers face, breathing heavily in anger.

“She wasn’t yo’ business to handle-“,

“Which is exactly why I should’ve! You ain’t never been able to watch yo own back and damnnit I told you it’ll catch up and look what!”

Stack didn’t have anything to say to that because it was true. Smoke was always warning him about chasing waterfalls and when to built dams.

“You could’ve died! I woulda lost you! N’ over what? A woman you ain’t got no business bein’ wit anyways?? And I’m is ‘posed to be calm bout that?!” Unshed tears make his eyes shine as he yells and yells, until Stack understands. Cutting him off as he pulls him into a hug, clapping a hand firmly on his back. He gets it. Smoke was scared. Terrified even- of losing someone else.

Whenever he pictured any aspect of his life- past, present, or future; it always involved his brother. Like a habit. When Stack looked in the mirror, he saw Smoke. When Smoke looked in the mirror, he saw Stack. Two halves of the same whole. For a brief moment, he tries to picture how Smoke would live- truly live- without him and finds himself holding back tears at the grim image.

“I’m sorry I ain’t listen to you.”

Smoke is quiet but brings his hand over his back, patting gently.

“Should be. Don’t do no shit like that again.”

Huffing out a laugh, Stack agrees as they separate. Smoke looks up, narrowing his eyes when he sees Cornbread gambling at one of the tables, drink in hand and yells,

“Fool! Didn’t I tell yo big ass to stay by the door!”

Cornbread rolls again and the table bursts into cheers as he laughs before answering,

“Yea- but the lovebirds got that covered so I figured I take some time off.” Smoke looks around confused. Lovebirds? He looks around the floor, first spotting his cousin with his arms around Pearline then his glare softens as it lands on Annie, beautifully lit where she stood behind the bar. Soft voice and full curves have him gravitating towards her when Stack smacks him on his arm- barking out a laugh as he jerks his chin toward the closed door, smiling.

“I think thems the lovebirds in question.”

There, Bo sits with you in his lap. Thighs around his waist, foreheads pressed together, hands on shoulders as you smile, laugh and whisper about whatever. Sharing a drink and Smoke rolls his eyes as Stack coos.

“Aww~ Ain’t that just sweet?” Smoke is unamused.

“If they call that watchin’ the door then just call me boo boo the fool wit’ a side of ice because-“, Stack laughs again, hitting him on the arm as he hands him a cigarette.

“Ah ah, don’t be like that. Lighten up. S’ a hell of a night for everyone. ‘Nd before it’s over, you needa ease on a lil’”, Stack tilts his head as he rolls his shoulders. Coaxing Smoke to do the same as he takes a deep breath, shoulders dropping and Stack continues,

“And what better way to wind down than dancin’ with yo lady”, jerking his head towards Annie and Smoke follows with his eyes. Zoning out as he takes her in before he remembers-

“Then who gon’ handle the drinks?” Stack sucks his teeth, pushing him toward the bar until he’s face to face with the pain in his heart and balm of his soul and Stack shoots her off too.

“I got it covered. Y’all gon on.”

Annie shares an amused look between the two before offering Smoke her hand and he doesn’t hesitate to take it, leading her to the floor. Delta whistles, laughing as he plays up a tune that spells trouble.

It’s been one hell of a night for sure. But since the club survived this..

Back at Tallie’s…

A shiver shocks her bones, a superstition that a conversation is being had on her behalf. The diary is yet to be found and that makes her worry even more. In the wrong hands, it could spoil her good girl reputation. A ding is heard from the laptop resting on her desk; an email notification.

Meal prep requests from Smoke&Stack Twins. (Accept/Decline)

She smiles with relief while accepting the order, it’s always breeze cooking for them. Tallie shoots a quick reply to confirm the time and date.

———

With no luck, her diary remains lost and the appointment with the twins was here. She wanted to write a quick piece before seeing them, it would help keep her feelings at bay.

“I’ll be fine” She assures herself greeting the staff at the concierge and walking up to their floor. Tallie knocks on the door in a cheerfully way while waiting for someone to let her in.

Silence.

“They know I’m comin', right?” She says waiting patiently.

With another knock, a buzz of the bell and no response she lets herself in. The hallway is eerily quiet so she turns on the lights that lead to the kitchen. All the ingredients are already laid out on the prep corner of the kitchen counter. Butter, eggs, sugar, flour, vanilla extract, cinnamon, pecans; seems like the twins are craving pastries this week. Tallie hears a baritone mumble and quickly glances around the open plan room. Lo and behold Smoke has been lounging on the couch, the whole damn time. 

“Didn’t you hear the bell?!” She snaps at Smoke, he is the only one present. Her tone is sharp, yes, but not writing in the diary has left her on edge. Especially today... the hidden thoughts were running wild.

Choosing the perfect time to emerge, Stack walks in through the hallway in a regal terry cotton robe. She peers up at his face and eyes him to his feet. His hair is damp with the robe hung loosely around his torso. The belt not fully tied. She glances back up, his eyes already catching her lustful stare. Flustered, she looks down and then back to Smoke, who remains on the couch.

“Is she taking that tone with you or me?” Smoke asks turning to his twin with a mischievous smirk, to which Stack smirks back with a shrug.

“I don’t need to be here.” She whisper but not quietly enough. 

“Yeah but you want to be here… don’t you?” The mischief behind his smirk is now exposed as he point to the item in Smoke’s hand. Lifting up his left hand with a sway, you see the features of a very familiar notebook.

“That’s my diary!” She squirms. His back is faced away from her but she knew he is smirking like a cat that caught a canary. The flight or fight response has kicked in. Just as Tallie decides to make an attempt to run and snatch it, Stack strolls over to the kitchen counter shaking his head in warning. She freezes, glancing through her peripheral at Smoke still with her diary held high, the tassel moves…mocking her in an Irish jig. Stack steps closer to hover behind her, reading her bright eyes and steady breaths. The rope frees from its hold and leaves him open, chest bare and clad in fitting undergarments.

She gasps as he turns her flushed against the counter, facing the torment of her lust. His hands rest on the countertop, caging Tallie in. 

“Secret’s out brown sugar” He growls into her ear.

Smoke finally turns to face them, striding to the empty counter stool. He positions himself directly opposite Tallie and Stack, still smirking and flipping through the pages. She attempts to nab it back but is left bent at the waist and pressed on the surface. Stack remains behind her, tracing delicate touches across the small of her back. Keeping his hips still but firm enough for her to feel the warmth of his nether regions.

“Give it back!” She barks, suddenly fuelled by desire and fear.

“You need to watch that tone Tallie” Stack warns from behind her, removing his hand from her back and returning it to the countertop. She whimpers at the loss of his warm and rich touch.

“I knew you didn’t see me like how we both see you” Smoke starts “You sure do express yourself more on a page than in person.”

She response with a glare, keeping a sharp gaze on him and her silly little diary. ‘Don’t falter, don’t falter, don’t falter’ she thinks to herself, but Stack's gentle caress on her arm cause a shiver to crawl up her spine and lashes to flutter in want.

“I don’t know… what your talking abo-”

Stack smirks at her denial as he tugs Tallie upright, fitting into the curve of her back as he latches onto her neck. A loud mewl escapes her lips as he savagely nibbles, licks and sucks at the pulsing jugular.

“St-tack” she stutter intwining their fingers, pulling his hand to her bountiful chest. 

“Whose eyes do you want to see roll back?” Smoke demands, gloating at her demise. “Seems like it’s yours, huh?”

“W-whaa-?” Another moan slips out as Stack attacks her viciously. She always had a feeling that he had a way, with that thick tongue of his. From watching him wrap his joints to it poking out when he counts a stack of bills. Bring her back to the earthy plane, he eases off her neck moving to nibble at curve of her lobe.

“It is mine?” Stack asks, pressing the stiffening bulge of his thickness against the cleft of her rounded plump cheeks. All this while Smoke remains vigilant, stoic and unbothered.

“I-i want… w-want” she stutters, eyes flickering like a light in a horror movie, unable to handle the balance of Smoke’s smouldering gaze and Stack’s desire-filled touch. 

“Talk to us Tallie” Smoke mocks her, still firm in his demeanour.

“I want my diary back!” She cries out in longing and thirst. Being touched but not touched enough left her in a limbo. It felt like punishment. The teasing, the taunting, the edging  just because of her silly little diary. These men are a force to worship; more than just their aura, more than just their fierce gaze, everything.

“Still got tha’ tone on her Stack” Smoke says with a shrug of his hands and shoulders “You got work to do.”

He stands up and pushes the diary open on the last entry, the title ridicules her ‘Stack&Smoke twins’. Stack moves away from her space, she whines, eyes begging him not to let go.

“Relax” Smoke whispers smugly.

Stack crouches down, making his way under the flimsy fabric of her summer dress. Comfortably sat on the pristine marble flooring. With the back of his head resting against the cupboard doors, he looks up at her. The eyes that draw her in, the eyes that burn with so much compassion and power.

She looks down in acknowledgement, trapping his head between her warm supple thighs like a cushion. Smoke whistles. Her attention returns back to him as he winks. 

“I’d love to give you more, but that diary’s in your hands now.” He states, stroking the tent formed by his covered length. Deviously taking in her expression.

Her breath hitches at the gentle swat across her southern breed cheeks.

“And so it begins” She hears Stack mumble beneath her. 

He grips the thighs, holding her in place. The fabric of her panties is transparent, the wetness creating a friction. With the tip of his nose sliding against her covered lips.

His tongue follows the out line of her puffy lips through the fabric. tracing each curve up to her pulsing swollen clit and down to the entrance of her waterfall. He glides along, sucking at the fabric, wanting to taste it all.

“Pll-eease Sttackk” She begs

There’s a tut in the background. Smoke is still root on the chair, captivated at her lust.

“Ask properly” He advises, zoned in on her nipple that tries to escape the fitted blouse.

Stack nips at her inner thigh, swatting her cheeks twice in admonishment. She corrects her fault immediately, knowing what needs to be said.

“P-pl-lease Smo-ke, please Stackkk” She purrs.

With a nod, he pulls her panties to the side and slips in like a thief in the night. Tallie grinds on his thick warm wet tongue, his nose tapping at the clit. Her eyes tear-up and her fingers clenching into a fist, she watches as Smoke beckons her to lean forward. He pulls her bottom lip open, invading her mouth with his thumb. At the same time, Stack swats her again and grips the heated flesh of her hips pulling her onto his gushy slick face. Not hovering, he wants her whole weight.

The fiery gaze from Smoke was intense, the simultaneous pressure from Stack causes her to hump his lips with passion. Tallie sucks hard on his thumb, saliva wetting his finger drooling down into his palm. He snatches his thumb back while maintain the leering look of lust she held in her soul. He moves slowly, sinking his hand beneath his slacks and toys with the tip of his throbbing head, the wetness of her mouth on his thumb giving him enough friction. She mewls in delight as his paces quickens.

Stack isn’t letting up either, her slit is plunged with his fingers and her sensitive nub caressed by his tongue not yet giving her what she wanted. What she truly needed. He keeps a steady pace dancing around her clit as the wetness pools on his tongue like warm honey, down his goatee and across his freshly shaven cheeks. Tallie cries, letting out a whiny plea, asking for nothing but to cum. Her head is spinning, moaning feverishly as he eyes flutter from the cool breeze against her nipples.

"She's close" Smoke mutters, grinding into his palm as he sucks in his bottom lip.

Swats her again in warning, Stack reaches the sweet spot and thrashes his tongue. Desperate for her desire, her juice, her warm honey. Tallie let's go with a screech. She spasms on his tongue riding until her knees buckle, her eyes are back on Smoke wanting to see him finish with her. But he keeps his length hidden from her view, stroking it enough to release some tension.

Tallie can feel it. Stack can feel it. Smoke can feel it. It was in the air, the moment, she felt the gravity in the room suddenly drop, then a burst of warmth as she floods Stack with the essence of her womanhood for the second time. The twins groans in admiration. Smoke reluctantly frees his length, still tight and hard. Stack just as burdened but makes no move to relieve his discomfort.

It was all about her, these twins were selfless to the core. Smoke walks away snatching the diary from where it lay. Abandoned in the midst of their activities.

“You off all people should kno’ ” Stack starts as he stands up, placing a kiss along her chin and down her throat “Closed mouth don’t get fed.”

Tallie still in shock at the energy of the twins, blurts the first though that comes to mind.

“Do I still have to bake?”

“Do you want a bun in your oven?” The twins reply simultaneously. 

She watches as they glance over their shoulder to peer at her, mischief written all over their faces.

PART 2

The porch light hums, a low electric buzz that feels louder than it should in the quiet of the night. Judy’s mouth barely finishes forming the words hey boys before Elias moves. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t speak, doesn’t give her space to smile wider or step forward or let her eyes drift past him into the house like she already belongs there. The door slams hard, the sound cracking through the quiet street like something splitting down the middle. It echoes through the foyer and rattles the frame before settling into a heavy silence.

For a moment, neither twin moves. They just stand there breathing hard, staring at the wood as if it might open on its own. Elias’ chest rises too fast, and his jaw is tight enough to ache. Elijah’s eyes stay fixed on the handle, steady even though his pulse is not. Silence stretches thin, and no footsteps are retreating, no car door, no engine turning over. Nothing.

“That was dramatic,” Elijah mutters quietly, though there’s no humor in it. Elias drags a hand over his head and down his face like he’s trying to wipe the past off his skin. “I’m not opening that again,” he says, voice low and certain. Another second passes, then another, and the quiet presses in harder. “How the hell does she know where we live?” he mutters, something old and unwelcome vibrating under the words.

Elijah steps closer to the door but doesn’t touch it. He listens first, always listens first, for gravel shifting or breath or any sign she’s still standing there. “We moved twice since her,” he says evenly. Elias shakes his head. “I blocked her on everything.” Elijah nods once. “Same.” The words feel useless because blocking doesn’t stop someone who wants access.

Behind them, the house is warm. The faint scent of lavender drifts from the hallway, and a soft light glows near the stairs. Raven is upstairs, four babies growing under their roof, a life Judy was never meant to step back into. Elias starts pacing through the foyer, his steps sharp against the hardwood. He hasn’t moved like this in years, not since he felt cornered and younger and unsure. “Did you tell anybody our address?” he asks. “Old mutuals? Anybody from back then?” Elijah answers evenly, “Only family. Close friends. Nobody connected to her.” Elias exhales sharply. “She stalking us?”

The word lands heavily, and Elijah’s mind runs through possibilities. Social media tags that might have slipped. Business records tied to their names. Success leaves trails if someone’s looking hard enough. “She didn’t look surprised,” Elijah says slowly. “She looked prepared. Like she expected that door to open.” Elias lets out a humorless laugh that dies in his throat. “Of course she did.”

He stops pacing and looks toward the hallway, toward the bedroom where Raven sleeps, unaware that history is standing on their porch. His posture shifts instantly, protective and rooted in a way that has nothing to do with fear and everything to do with resolve. “She’s not getting anywhere near Raven,” Elias says, and it isn’t up for discussion. “She’s not,” Elijah agrees immediately. “She doesn’t get to destabilize anything in this house.” Elias nods once. “And she definitely doesn’t get to try and split nothing either.”

That’s the real fear, not cheating or money or drama, but division. They remember what that felt like, the quiet comparisons, the way Judy would lean into one and whisper something meant to bruise the other, the way affection turned into leverage and love felt like competition. They remember how close they came to turning on each other, and they know they aren’t those boys anymore.

Elijah steps closer until his shoulder nearly touches Elias’, solid and present. “We built this,” he says. “She didn’t.” Elias exhales slowly. The anger doesn’t disappear, but it settles into something controlled. “She doesn’t get near her,” he repeats. “Or the babies,” Elijah adds.

Then they hear it, a faint shift outside that isn’t footsteps leaving but weight adjusting, a soft scrape against the porch railing. Both men freeze. “She’s still out there,” Elijah says quietly. Elias steps closer to the door again and presses his palm flat against it, feeling the barrier between what was and what is. “She really think we gon’ open it,” he mutters. “She knows us,” Elijah replies, and that lands harder than anything else because she does know them. She knows their reflex to confront, to demand answers, to not leave things unfinished.

Upstairs, a floorboard creaks, and both men look toward the staircase. Soft footsteps follow, slow and careful. “Elias?” Raven’s voice floats down the hallway, thick with sleep. “Elijah?” They don’t answer right away. The front door remains closed, Judy remains on the other side of it, and the tension in the foyer stretches tight as a wire.