#and i have a lot of work that i have to finish tonight and i'm working all morning tomorrow. probably won't sleep until 2.
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sentientcave · 8 months ago
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November Updates
I'm participating in a non-nanowrimo writing challenge this November, so I'm planning on working on original fiction for the month. I'm going to try and post a few chapters from works I have a big backlog of while I'm busy trying to write a novel. Title cards for the projects I'm hoping to start posting below the cut!
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prongsfish · 1 year ago
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jan... 29... i seriously am useless. so sorry guys
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violetsareblue-selfships · 8 months ago
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good morning!! <333
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brighteststar707 · 2 years ago
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For someone who likes to say she doesn't have a type, I do have a tendency to just date the same people in different fonts over and over huh
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non-un-topo · 1 year ago
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The irony of having no time to buy needles so I can take my T shot because the queer genders course is keeping me SO busy...
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cantquitu · 2 years ago
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Little Miss and Squirt are proud of you.
AND THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS!!!!!! <3
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dykefever · 9 months ago
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it's my birthday tomorrow ...one more shift at work and then i'm free for four days !!!!
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syoish-aot · 1 year ago
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self motivation is continuing to update your CCxOC fic even though you're getting crickets in the comments
you guys should read my Jean/OC fic it's good
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jorvikzelda · 1 year ago
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thank you to chappell roan for providing me with good luck babe to listen to on repeat as I finish my bachelor's thesis and thank you to myself at the end of april for deciding to buy a fancy keyboard that I can write it with
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i-like-loserz · 3 months ago
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apt for two
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pairing: san x reader
cw: smut (18+), drunk!san with needy-desperate vibes (as always), afab!reader, friends-to-lovers, praise kink, mommy kink, handjob, nipple play (m!recieving), breeding kink, unprotected piv, eternal boner (you'll find out), mention of asian glow, san's fancam, not beta-read, etc.
wc: 4k (wow)
note: I WAS SUPPOSED TO FINISH LIKE THREE 1/4 DONE FICS BUT INSTEAD IM DOING THIS :) also i get asian glow too, so i love the representation i'm getting with drunk-teez!
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1 shot
tonight was supposed to involve a pregame at your place before bar-hopping, but somebody decided to ditch you and turn in early (wooyoung). of course, it wasn't until 9:30 that you got the text.
you'd been waiting so patiently, only having one drink. you were saving the rest to share with your friends once he arrived. it was supposed to be the three of you, but now it's just--
2 shots
"maybe he's just tired because of work or something?"
san is sweet, trying to lighten your disappointment.
he just took his second shot, barely wincing as he swallows it quickly before gently setting the glass back on the counter -- you can tell he's trying to hide his distaste for the liquor.
"he's just hungover because he decided to go out without us last night, sannie..." you drone, "he's probably sleeping off the club."
"hm, you're probably right. but if he were here, it probably wouldn't be that fun if he's hungover."
"that's true..."
you pour another round of shots.
3 shots
"hey, let's play a game." san looks at you with bright eyes.
you can see it already -- the flush spreading across his cheeks. for such a big guy, he sure get tipsy easily.
"what kind of game? there's only the two of us."
"how about...apateu?"
"with two people?" he nods with a cute little smile. how could you deny him? "sure, if you want"
5 shots (for san)
you bite back an adoring smile as you watch san down a second shot. his expressions are a lot freer now, letting himself wince just from the smell of tequila, followed by a grossed-out groan after he takes it.
"okay, maybe we should stop. you've lost twice already." he's not very good at this game -- even when you let him pick the number for each turn.
"no, no, let's go again!" his eyes are glazed over, lids heavy from the liquor as he tries to convince you to continue.
you let a smile crack as you watch him sway prettily in front of you, "...you seem a lot more drunk than me though."
"hm?" he smiles back, "that's okay? right?"
you can't help but laugh at his adorableness. he picks up your shot glass and nudges it closer to you.
"just take one, so we're even."
it might just be the liquor, or that pretty blush on his face, but you're feeling bold.
"mm, but you had two, baby."
you say it so casually, yet he reacts to that word immediately. his expression is quickly replaced with something needy.
oh, so he liked that....
"t-then take two." he suggests with a stutter.
you pour yourself one more, right to the brim, and he watches on in awe. you drink it easily, enjoying the way san's eyes stare at your lips as you lick them clean.
"i don't think we're gonna make it to the bars tonight." you tease.
his small shy smile returns, "just stay here...with me, then."
5 shots + a glass of water (for san)
you guide san to the couch with a glass of water in your hand.
barely a few steps from the kitchen counter, he makes you stop for a moment so he can clumsily lace his fingers with yours.
"it's more secure" he murmurs shyly.
you don't say anything as you continue to lead him into the living room, but when you turn away you're biting your lip to stop yourself from pouncing on him.
you're afraid that your cuteness aggression will scare him away.
he immediately picks up a pillow to snuggle against his chest as he sits down. always needing something in his lap...
he looks up at you, all pink cheeks and smiles, as you set the glass of water down on the coffee table in front of him.
you sit down next to him and settle against the plush seat with a sigh.
"what now?" he asks eager and curious.
eager for what?
"well, first, drink some water," san obediently takes a few sips of water as you continue to speak, "do you want to watch a movie or something?"
you were planning on letting him crash on the couch, but how could you leave him when he's looking at you like that?
"hm..." he puts the glass down before looking back at you with a shy expression, "can we watch something else?"
"like what?"
"can i show you some of my fancams?"
"...fancams...?"
"yeah, i want to show you how i look in concert."
you almost giggle from how shy he's being. isn't tequila supposed to make you bolder?
"sannie, i've been to your concerts."
he pouts -- actually pouts, "but you haven't seen them like this!"
how could you deny him?
"ok, ok, let's have a look then."
you try to give him the remote to look it up, but he immediately struggles to type with it -- even turning off the tv at some point -- so you have to take over.
"so it's...'san fancam--'" you press in each letter individually.
"'--ice on my teeth 241115'" he finishes for you.
"...1...5..."
you finally type it all in and click on the video. you see woo (the ditcher of the night, you remind yourself) crouching in front of a sleekly dressed san, who looks very different from the soft and cuddly man next to you.
"how do you remember all of the numbers for the title?" you question as you finally relax back onto the couch.
he shrugs, "i dunno, i just do -- wait, start it over, we were talking during the start!"
"san, it's been like, two seconds."
"please??"
you start it over to placate him.
as you watch the video, you notice how quiet he is next to you.
he must be really into his own fancams...
you get it though. you've never watched his fancams before (you've only seen woo's because he forces you to binge them with him whenever you facetime), but he looks really good in that long coat, glasses, and with his hair slicked back like that, hitting every note with that stupidly handsome look on his face.
he looks so serious...so domineering. delectable.
so...not how you usually see him.
you turn to look at him, wondering if he's just as entranced by himself as you are -- but he's already looking at you.
you feel your cheeks heat up as you're caught ogling your friend, right in front of him.
"so...? do you like it?"
"yeah, it was a good performance, san."
"sannie." he corrects, "do you really like it, or are you just saying that?"
"no, i really like it--"
"which part? do you like the outfit? a lot of people say they like that outfit on me the most. but there's also one where i have on a see-through top..." he starts to ramble.
oh, now you know what he's looking for.
your voice is soft as you coo to him, "you looked great up there, sannie. so talented...and handsome." he smiles sheepishly as you compliment him, "did you show this to me because you wanted to show off? show me how good you are in front of a crowd?"
now he's shy.
"just wanted to know if you liked what you see."
you cradle his face with your hand, "you're so cute, baby," he melts against your touch, nuzzling his warm cheek against you, "just want some praise, hm?"
it's crazy that you have this man falling apart for you with a few words and a bare touch of your hand.
on stage, he looks so regal and put together.
right here? he looks undeniably soft and malleable.
"do you like me?"
"of course, i do." you caress his cheek with your thumb, enjoying the heat that radiates off his skin, "you're a sweetheart."
"no, like, do you like-like me?" his eyes meet yours, wide with hope and yearning.
"what, are we in middle school?" you tease.
he whines softly, "im serious"
you ignore his question and throw it back at him.
"do you like me?"
he's hesitant, timid, but eventually --
"mhm."
"oh really? since when?"
"since forever."
"why didn't you tell me?"
"because..." san briefly looks away, "because i don't know if you like me"
your hand drifts from his jaw to his chin. you can't help but admire his perfect features -- his fluffy hair, dark brows, intense eyes, cute nose, and...his lips.
you carefully glide your thumb over his pretty bottom lip, enamored by how pretty and pink it is.
he stutters out a breath.
"and if i do?"
"c-can you kiss me?" he sounds so sweet and timid when he asks. his eyes eagerly glance down at your lips as you drag his bottom lip down, revealing his pearly white teeth.
you're mesmerized by his mouth. you press against his perfect teeth and he opens up immediately, letting you drag your thumb against his soft tongue. he sucks it in, laving sweetly against the sensitive pad of your finger as he stares up at you, eager to please.
"such a good boy~"
he whines, brows furrowing in desperate need. what a sweet sound.
you move your hand from his mouth so you can get in a better position. you shift from the couch to his lap, wanting to feel his body against yours. his arms immediately loop around your body, finding your waist so he can press you closer.
you dip in, hand at the base of his neck to control him, and nudge your nose against his -- just to tease him. he tries to push up and press his lips to yours, but you stop him, hand firmly holding him back.
"what am i gonna do with you?" you shake your head, "silly boy..."
he looks confused, brows tighten together endearingly, an expression that's slightly embarrassed.
"i-i thought you wanted to kiss."
"did i say that?"
"n-no, but--"
"you think you're so pretty that anyone would let you hit?" your hand moves up to the center of his neck. you press gently on the sides of his throat, pulling a groan from his lips. "mm...maybe you are pretty..."
he shivers from the praise. you can tell he's trying to hold back, but he's still subtly trying to move his hips under you, desperate for any type of friction.
"please? just one kiss?"
"just one?" you ghost your lips on his.
he whimpers at the feeling. you guess his lips are especially sensitive.
"please"
you give in, leaning against his silky pink lips. you feel him melt against you, sighing into it like it's the sweet relief of water in a barren desert. he desperately attempts to pull you closer by your waist, but you're already firmly pressed against him.
he deepens the kiss, delicately licking against the seam of lips before diving in and dragging his tongue against yours. you taste the tequila and lust -- it makes you hungry for more. he moans prettily when you nip at his lips, sucking on the sweet, sensitive skin until it gets all puffy and plump.
when you break the kiss, he attempts to chase your lips for more, not ready to separate. you dodge his advances with an amused smile, loving how needy he is already.
"you said one kiss"
"mmm, i think i messed up on that one..." he swipes his tongue over his swollen lips as he stares hungrily at yours, eyelids heavy but gaze wanting, "can we try again?"
“maybe if you earn it again…”
he groans, “fuck,” he presses his hips against yours, making you feel how hard he is under his pants, “but i need you so bad, mommy.”
hearing that word slip from his beautiful lips almost makes you melt into a puddle, right on his lap. if it weren’t for the way you were straddling him, your thighs would’ve immediately pressed together from the amount of need you were feeling. 
you press down on him just as eagerly, panting from the pressure of his hard cock against your aching clit. 
"yeah? you gonna be a good boy and fill me up?"
"mhmm~" his deep voice drones, vibrating from his chest against yours, "please let me -- i need to be inside of you."
you roll your hips against him, coaxing cute whimpers from him with every press.
"think you deserve it?" you taunt. san can't even answer you, merely nodding with his eyes squeezed shut, reveling in the feeling of your body grinding against his.
your hands move down from his neck, over his chest and stomach before settling right against his covered cock. you can feel the way he twitches under his pants, desperately begging for attention.
he groans when you press against him, the minimal pressure is already too much for him to handle.
"you're already so hard for me." you stroke him over his pants, feeling the perfect contours of his erection even when separated by the fabric.
"m'always hard for you" he slurs, hips subtly flexed upwards in an attempt to feel more of you.
"let me see." you unbutton his pants with ease and use a bit of force to pull them off just far enough to reveal his pretty cock and the top of his legs. his blushing tip weeps delicately with beads of cum, already spilling against his shaft -- evidence of how close he already is to the edge.
when you wrap your hand around him, his body stiffens and his hands instantly grip over the top of your thighs to ground himself.
"w-wait...not yet--" he begs, head thrown back in ecstasy.
you haven't even done anything yet.
"sannie," you can feel him throbbing against your fingers, "baby, are you okay?"
"d-don't move." he shudders, "i m-might--"
you watch his facial expressions closely as you squeeze your fist around him, nearly drooling from the way his eyebrows scrunch together with intensity.
"oops..." you fail to hide your smile but it doesn't matter, he can't see it anyway. you swipe your thumb against the edge of his tip, massaging that sweet spot as his legs begin to shake.
you slip your other hand under his shirt, feeling up his muscled torso to his heaving chest. his skin is warm and smooth against your fingers and it makes you want to leave pretty marks all over him.
his back arches when you lazily drag your index finger against his nipple. you circle your finger around it experimentally and the needy bud hardens from your teasing touch.
"sensitive boy..." you hum.
he whimpers sweetly, "t-too much--"
you ignore his words and pinch his nipple. his mouth opens and he's barely able to take a handful of breaths before he's crying out in broken moans and thrusting against your hand. you work him through it with hushed praises, letting him fuck your fist until he's too weak to continue.
you take your other hand and run your fingers through his hair lovingly as his climax moves through him before caressing the back of his flushed neck. his overstimulated body shivers against your gentle touch, but he still leans into it.
he made a mess.
his cum spurted all over -- spilling over your hand and dripping on your lap -- so now, your pants (and his) are ruined. when san finally calms down a bit, he peeks down at the mess as well.
"i-i'm sorry, i tried to hold it in..." he stares at you with rounded eyes, sparkling with shame and embarrassment.
you tilt your head as you regard the flushed man before you, "if you're gonna be so messy, clean it up." he cowers slightly at your taunting words.
"h-how..."
you lift the hem of his shirt wordlessly and -- after a moment of confusion -- he obediently raises his arms to let you take it off. he watches on with a surprised expression as you bundle it up and use it to wipe your hands and lap.
"what? you thought i'd make you lick it up?" you tease, "didn't know you were that much of a pervert."
"i-no, i d-don't know." he stammers.
you accidentally brush against him as you're cleaning up and his body jolts harshly from the feeling. you gently move the shirt away and notice that he's still hard.
how the fuck--
he can feel your stare.
"u-um...it's..." he attempts to cover himself up with his hands, "this is normal." you throw his shirt to the side and take him by the wrists. you move his hands away and his cock twitches from your attention.
"is it?" when you look up at his face he's blushing, thoroughly embarrassed by his needy body.
"only...when i think of you." he says quietly, "y-you can just ignore it though." he stares at the way your smaller hands wrap around his wrists.
cute.
just to see what he'd do, you put his hands on your body, leading them up from your hips to your chest. he immediately gropes your tits in his large hands, letting out a pathetic noise.
"didn't know you were so insatiable..." you push him away and get off of his lap. he whines from the loss of contact but as soon as he sees you start to strip for him, he's silent, watching on in awe.
you pull off your shirt but leave your bra on -- just another way to tease and deprive him of what he wants. next, you shimmy off your pants before throwing them in his lap.
"look at the stains you left on them," you pout, "those were new." (no they weren't) "you're gonna have to buy me a new pair."
"yeah, o-ok, i'll buy you anything you want..." san ignores the pants and continues to stare at you with a cute spaced-out expression, refusing to miss even a second of you nearly naked in front of him.
he looks so good sitting there, waiting so patiently for you. his broad shoulders -- that stretch every shirt he owns -- lift every so often with the deep breaths he's taking.
his bare body is tan and fucking chiseled, you swear you could get off just grinding on his stupidly perfect abs. and the way he's keeping his hands to himself, despite how eager his cock stands for you.
when you start to approach him again, he shoves the stained clothing away to make room for you. you caress his face as you settle on top of him again.
"don't worry, baby, i'll help you."
"fuck, please."
back on top of him, you roll your hips so your covered cunt just barely grazes his hard cock. he lets out a helpless groan from the bare touch.
"oops, i forgot to take these off..." you snap the waistband of your panties against your hips, "is it okay if we just shove them to the side?" you ask, guiding his hand to feel the lace that decorates the edges.
he tugs at the fabric with thinly veiled frustration. you're surprised he hasn't lost it already. you loop your arms around his neck, letting him touch as much of you as he wants.
his hand travels under your thighs to press right over your clothed center.
"just don't mess these up too, okay?"
"i'll try my best" he presses the pads of his fingers against your cunt, feeling your wet slick soak through the thin fabric of your underwear. "f-fuck, you're already dripping."
"i'm all ready for you, sannie..." you press your hips against his hand, "you could probably just slip it right in" you whisper.
that's all the convincing it takes for him to push his hand under the fabric and run his finger against the soft lips of your cunt.
"feels good, baby~" you shove your face against the crook of his neck, mouthing and nipping against his skin. he hums gratefully at the praise -- it almost sounds like he's purring.
your slick coats his fingers as he rubs them against your sopping hole, gently pressing into you until you stretch around him. you bite your lip as he thrusts into you shallowly, barely able to finger-fuck you correctly because of how far his arm is stretched around your body.
you swear you're making a mess of his hand, dripping everywhere because of how much you want him inside of you. you pull your face away from his neck, eyes locking with his, "sannie, just fuck me."
you lift your hips up enough to press his weeping cock against you.
"b-but what about--"
you pull him in for a kiss and he immediately leans into it, melting against you once again. if you weren't so horny, you'd gush over how easy he is for you.
"don't worry, baby, i can take it."
san listens, pulling your panties to the side so he can position himself against you. he runs his cock against the seam of your cunt a few times to lubricate himself enough before slowly pushing against you. you press down at the same time, legs shaking slightly as your body stretches to accommodate his size.
"o-oh, fuck!" he chokes out, overwhelmed by the feeling of your soaking cunt sucking him in. you both moan when you sit all the way down, letting him fill you to the brim.
"mm...you fill me up so good, baby." you sigh, starting to roll your hips against him. he's so big that he presses against all the special spots inside of you with every move you make.
his hips involuntarily jerk upwards every time you lift your hips away from him, desperately needing to feel you all around him. he'd probably like cockwarming, you think -- or you would think if he wasn't fucking the thoughts from your mind.
"m-mommy, it's -- too much--" his hands wrap around your waist, squeezing faint bruises into your skin as he grapples with the feeling of your tightness fluttering around him.
your head tilts back as you speed up against him, "be good, sannie..." your breaths come out short and labored, "let mommy use your cock -- mm...fuck, yes." your mind is hazy as he hits all the right places inside of you.
he whines, pressing his face against your chest as you move against him, "i don't think i'm going to last." he twitches inside of you, already worked up to the edge.
"then go ahead," you breathe, "cum in me."
you feel the way his hips flex at the thought of filling you up, of making a mess out of you.
"i-i shouldn't..." he says -- but he's fucking up against you harder.
"why not, sannie?" you taunt, "don't want to get me pregnant?"
he lifts his head from your chest to look at you, "p-pregnant?"
"mhm," you smile down at him, "give me your babies so i can't go anywhere."
you're suddenly pressed against his hips, hard, his cock stretching you to your limit. you can feel him everywhere. you moan loudly, cunt fluttering uncontrollably from the intense pleasure he's pressing into you.
"you'd be mine?" he questions with an eager tone, almost innocently so. you can feel the way he throbs inside of you, just a touch away from tipping over the edge.
he refuses to move until you answer him.
so you try to. at least with the 1% of brain power he leaves you with.
"a-and you'd be mine." you can barely focus on the words you want to say.
san starts to shallowly thrust into you, "i'm already yours..."
"then i'm yours too."
his hands cradle your face as you continue to move against each other more desperately. he guides your face to his, pressing his lips against yours messily, teeth dragging and tongues mingling.
it's like he's only doing it to taste you. to feel you because he can't believe you're real. to claim your whole body because he can't take being away from you, even by a few centimeters.
you reach your highs together, moving perfectly in sync until you're both shaking in pleasure. you feel his hot cum fill you up, spurt after spurt -- so much in fact, you can feel it start to drip out of you, down his cock, and onto his lap.
"fuck, i might actually get pregnant from this." you say to yourself.
you feel him twitch inside of you again.
well, shit.
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cherryyluvs · 3 months ago
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Late Night Confessions
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late night calls and movie nights with you slowly turn into something more.
It started with late night calls. They were innocent, Mark would call you after a long night of fighting villains or finishing his part time in Burger Mart. Just to hear that sweet voice of yours before bed.
“You ever just sit on your roof at 2am and think about how weird life is?” He said one night, voice laced with exhaustion and fondness.
“Mark it’s 2 am.” You whined sleepily. Burying yourself deeper into your blankets. “And you're still wearing your suit, aren't you?”
“… Maybe,” He admitted, a sheepish chuckle slipping through the phone. “But if i take it off now, that means i have to get up and shower and i'm way too comfy talking to you.”
You groaned, rolling onto your side. “You're the worst”
“And yet, you're still on the phone with me.” He teased
You rolled your eyes but the smile on your face was undeniable. The calls became a routine after that. He would call you when he was tired, when he was happy, when he wanted to just hear your voice. And honestly? You didn't mind one bit.
Then came the movie nights, they started as a casual thing. Just two best friends hanging out and binge watching cheesy action films or terrible romcoms while demolishing a ridiculous amount of popcorn.
Tonight, though something felt.. Different.
You were both sprawled out on his couch, snuggled up next to Mark, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket that was his but you'd stolen it ages ago. And a ridiculous superhero movie playing in the background, but neither of you were paying attention. Your head was resting against Mark’s shoulder, and at some point he hesitantly draped an arm around you.
You pretended to not notice the way his heart was racing. “Okay but tell me why this guy just threw a whole car at the villain instead of, i don't know? Punching him?” Mark muttered, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you were curled up against him. You giggled, feeling his voice vibrate through his chest.
“I don't know invincible, maybe you should take notes.” He groaned, tilting his head back against the couch, “Don't remind me. I get that enough of that from william” You hummed in amusement, snuggling a little closer.
Mark stiffened for a moment before relaxing. He wanted to say something but every time he worked up the courage, the words were stuck in his throat.
Now or never.
He took a deep breath. “Hey uh, can i tell you something?”
“Hmm?” you replied, eyes half lidded from the warmth and comfort. His throat went dry. This was not how he pictured confessing, he had a whole plan! Flowers maybe. But with your head leaning against his shoulder, he couldn't think straight.
God why am I like this?
“I, uh like you. A lot! Like more than just friends kind of like you.” You froze, looking at his face, he was so red. Like, cartoon tomato face red.
“Mark..”
“And i know that was super awkward, and i totally just ruined the movie night but i had to say it befor-”
“Mark.”
He gulped. “Yeah?” You smiled, soft and mischievous. “Just kiss me already.”
His breath hitched, eyes wide as you reached the collar of his shirt and pulled him down. The moment your lips met, he melted. Completely.
Every late night call, every lingerie glance, every accidental touch , it all led to this.
Judging by the way you were smiling against his lips, you'd been waiting for this just as much as he had. The warmth of his lips , nervous but eager. It was all so sweet.
When you finally pulled away, his face was still red and grinning like an absolute idiot. “So… does this mean I can finally stop pretending I don't stare at you when you laugh?” You snorted, swatting his chest.
“You stare at me? Mark!”
“Hey! That's unfair. You can't just exist and be this cute. It's distracting !” He huffed, burying his face in your shoulder.
You couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled up. “Well, if it makes you feel better i also stare at you too.”
Mark smiled “Great. So we've both been embarrassing this whole time.”
“Yup” you said, popping the ‘p’ with a smile. “But now we get to be embarrassing together.” He beamed at you, eyes soft and full of something deep. “Yeah. I like the sound of that.”
You settled back into the couch, Mark pulling you more closer and you knew. This was only the start.
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violetsareblue-selfships · 4 months ago
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good morning!! <333
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bambikisss · 5 months ago
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Husband activities : C.San
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Husband!San x Wife!Reader
📖 : After working hard for a promotion, your husband decides to take you out to dinner to celebrate
⚠️ : Unprotected sex (please wrap it and be safe), fingering while driving, public oral (male to female), biting, lots of praise, a smidge of degrading, talks of recording/picture taking, small use of food, desperate San, pussy drunk San
🦌Bambi's notes : Hi! This is my first story back and I'm very excited to get back in the swing of things when it comes to writing and posting again. There are a few more tags added above as I got a bit carried away, but here's something to begin the year off with for book club. Enjoy!
COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED | ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY
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"Congratulations again, Mrs. Choi"
You smiled at Barbra's compliment, thanking her once more before wishing her a good night. After months and months of hard work, you had obtained the promotion position you had been dreaming about. While it took everything you had, you were happy to finally have the new plack with your name on it and the new position.
As you continued to set up your new office, you heard a knock on the door gently. When you turned around and were met with your husband's smiling face, you couldn't help but mirror it, rushing into his arms with a bright smile. "San, what are you doing here?" You asked though you didn't mind. You loved it when he visited you and the same for him. "I just wanted to come to congratulate you in person, baby" San placed a gentle kiss to the side of your head, pulling back just enough to see your face as he wrapped his arms around you more, keeping you pressed right up against him.
San loved how you felt against him, fitting him perfectly. It was one of the many things he loved about your body: how it felt right against his.
You gave him a small tour of your office, leading him to the large floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of the city. San couldn't help but look down at you with pride in his eyes, pressing his chest against your back as he wrapped his arms around you once more, leaning down so that his lips grazed your ear as he hummed "I'm so proud of you, baby. You worked hard and now you get to enjoy it all"
You smiled as San's lips met you in a gentle kiss, savoring the feeling before he pulled back, suddenly now holding his phone out to you. On the screen was a reservation reminder for one of your favorite restaurants, a smile appearing on your lips as San's hands returned to your hips as he hummed "I got us a reservation. It's nothing, just a little gift."
San loved spoiling you, doing whatever it took to keep you happy and see that smile on your face, though it didn't take much. He enjoyed the glint in your eyes whenever he bought you a gift, the sight always making him want to pin you against the nearest surface.
"It's so soon, though" You pointed out, turning to the clock on the wall. The reservation was at 7 o'clock and it was already 5:30. San nodded, gently grabbing your hand to press a kiss to the back of it, slowly turning you around to face him as he smirked "Well, we should get going then. I want you to take your time when it comes to tonight."
San words repeated through your mind as you got ready, picking out one of your favorite and best-looking dresses and matching heels before taking a long hot shower, taking your time to thoroughly relax. As you put on the dress and finishing touches, your eyes moved over the dress, happy with how it adored you beautifully.
Just as you were applying the finishing touches on your makeup, San could be heard approaching the bathroom, the sound of his dress shoes clicking against the floors as he stood in the doorway. "Hey honey, we should get…" San's words left him in real-time as his eyes landed on your figure in the dress, his mind no longer focused on the reservation, but on how fucking good you looked. You had the same reaction, looking over his broad shoulders and slim waist in his choice of outfit, simply wearing his white button-up and beige vest over it. Though the outfit was simple, he looked absolutely sinful in it.
San licked his lips as you approached him, his fingers itching to touch you as he breathed out "Baby, oh my god. You look…" His words left him once more as he spun you around, his eyes moved over every inch of the dress and your figure, his mouth watering at the things he wanted to do with you. His lips met your cheek before slowly kissing down to your neck, your hands moving up his muscular chest as you hummed playfully "shouldn't we get going?"
"Going where?" San's question was muffled as he kissed your neck, breathing in your scent as he kissed and sucked gently on your neck, drawing a low moan out of you, one that made San press you back against the bathroom sink. You knew that if you didn't stop him soon, there would be no chance of you both making that reservation. As you pushed him away gently to meet his face, San licked his lips once more, his eyes now full of hunger and desire.
"San, the dinner reservation." San groaned at the reminder of the reservation, biting his lip before he nodded, backing up as he said "God, you're going to be the death of me" San couldn't keep his eyes off of you as you both made your way out to the car, his eyes drinking in every movement you made. He found you to be the prettiest woman he had ever seen, thanking the universe every day he got to marry you.
You tried to finish your makeup while he drove, the sight of you applying your lip gloss in your little compact mirror making it hard for San to simply focus on the road. His hands tightened around the wheel for a moment, his lips itching to meet yours and lick off the lip gloss. You gently pressed your lips together to spread the lip gloss evenly, not noticing San's hand leaving the wheel to meet your thigh over the dress. It seemed like such a simple touch, offering him a small smile before you returned to your lips.
"What kind of lip gloss is that?" San asked, his eyes glancing over to yours for a moment before returning to the road, focusing on driving once more. "I think it's stawberry-" You were unable to finish your words as San's hand shot up to grip your cheeks, pulling you into a deep kiss with him as he pulled up to a red light. You moaned gently as San's tongue met yours, your lips moving together in a heated kiss as San's hand left your cheeks to move down your body, greedily grabbing and feeling every part of you before pushing away your thighs, his finger meeting your panties. You couldn't help but pull back to bite your lip as San continued driving with one hand, his other hand working on slipping your panties to the side as he pushed in a finger to your pussy, a moan leaving you both.
"You're so wet, honey" San breathed out, his finger moving in and out of you at a slow pace, the palm of his hand rubbing small circles on your clit. You gripped the seat at his motions, letting him do as he pleased as you continued to let out your moans into the car. The sight of you relaxed, head tossed back against the seat made San's cock twitch, gripping the wheel as he sped up, rushing now to the restaurant.
Your eyes opened to the sound of San's door slamming shut, the backseat door opening to show San climbing into the back, his lips and tongue wrapped around the finger that was just inside of you. His eyes were dark, a moan leaving him as he met your eyes. He motioned for you to meet him in the back with his free, only freeing his finger from his lips when you sat on his lip, his lips crashing with yours in a messy kiss.
"We have 15 minutes left before our reservation" San groaned against your lips, carefully moving so that you were against the seat as he moved onto his knees in front of you, kissing down your thighs as he mumbled "I want my appetizer"
Who were you to deny your husband such a need?
As you simply opened your legs wider for San, he smirked at the sight, blowing some air onto your wet pussy with a playful grin on his lips.
"Now isn't the time for that, San" You mumbled, running your hand through his styled hair as you pushed his head towards your pussy. San smirked, knowing you were right as he let you bring his lips to your pussy, moaning immediately at your taste. He took his time enjoying you, his tongue moving in and out of your pussy lips as he looked up at you through his glasses. He let you move your hips against his face, his own eyes rolling shut as you gripped his hair to press him more against you.
"Hmm, ride my tongue honey. Let me taste you" He moaned, his fingers pressing into your thighs as he focused on licking up all your wetness. You tossed your head back as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard on it before he pulled back to mumble against your pussy "such a good girl for me. so fucking tasty"
Your moment with San was interrupted by the sound of his phone going off, letting him know that it was time for the reservation. He sighed gently before pressing a few more kisses to your pussy, as if kissing it goodbye before he pulled back to allow you both to fix up your appearance. He bit his lip at the sight of you reapplying lip gloss once more, wanting nothing more than to kiss it off of you again.
"You know," San hummed as you both exited the car and began to walk to the restaurant hand in hand. "I wouldn't mind just going back home and celebrating there"
"San" You gently scolded him as you both entered the restaurant, following the hostess to your table. San smirked gently, squeezing your hand to let you know he was playing around with you.
The hostess led you both to a private room dining room that had a beautiful view of the ocean, the room full of candles to give it a romantic glow. You gasped gently as San led you into the room, pulling out the chair for you as he said "I wanted to celebrate in a more intimate setting" He gently placed a kiss on your shoulder before moving to sit across the table from you, smiling proudly. He knew based on the glint in your eyes that he picked right for the reservation, his heart racing as you gently thanked him. He placed his hand on top of yours, gently pulling it to his lips as he said "Anything for you, my love. And you deserve it, you worked hard for that promotion."
San placed a kiss on your wedding band, making your heart skip a beat as he intertwined your fingers with his, admiring how perfectly they fit. San was a perfect life partner for you, someone who was driven and loved with his whole chest. You were his world and he wanted to make sure you knew that at all costs.
Soon the table was covered in food, San supporting you in ordering anything you wanted to try. You hummed happily as you both picked at the various dishes, both of you tasting the various foods with smiles on your face. You fed him some beef, smiling as he hummed "That has to be my favorite thing I've put in my mouth tonight."
You raised an eyebrow playfully at his words, your mind thinking back to the moment you both shared in the car before you both came inside, feeling more wetness gather at the memory. "Oh really?" You asked flirtatiously, leaning forward onto your hand as you met his eyes. At your new tone of voice, San raised his own eyebrow, putting down his fork as he said "Well, not as good as you of course." You hummed at his words, picking at your food with a faux pout on your lips. The sight made San smirk, leaning back in his chair as he asked
"You don't believe me?"
You shook your head, shrugging as you continued eating, your eyes moving to look out the window at the water. San scoffed at your answer, his eyes roaming your body hungrily before he decided to prove it to you. Your eyes stayed on the waves as the sound of San standing up and his chair being pushed back filled the room. You expected him to appear behind you, instead when your eyes left the window, you were met with an empty room. You looked around in confusion, trying to find him when you felt a pair of hands suddenly on your thighs. You jumped lightly before moving the table cover to see San on his knees once again in between your legs, his lips kissing your thighs as his eyes looked up to meet yours mischievously. As you asked him what he was doing, he bit his lip before simply pushing apart your legs more, his free hand moving up and down your covered pussy as he simply shushed you.
You were glad you were in a private room with San, the staff not being able to enter unless you both called for them on the tablet on the table. San smirked as he leaned forward to lick up your clothed pussy, his smirk growing as let out a sharp inhale. He enjoyed seeing you squirm and shake at his touch, repeating the steps a few more times. "Baby, aren't we supposed to be celebrating my promotion?" You asked breathlessly, your voice combined with your words making San moan against your panties, looking up at you with now flushed cheeks as he said "You're right, this is about you babygirl. This is about what you want"
San found the top of your panties, dragging it down your legs slowly before he attached his mouth to your pussy, his eyes locked on you as he continued to lick and suck wherever he could. Your eyes couldn't help but flicker to the door, letting out small moans as he gripped your hips, eating you out to his heart's content. At the sight of your eyes not meeting his, he got a pang of jealousy, wanting you to focus on him.
Your hand shot down to his hair as he pushed a finger into you, San moving your other leg onto his shoulder as he moaned against your pussy "look at me, honey. Focus on your reward" Your hand tightened in his hair as you both began to let out your moans into the room, both quiet and muffled by the music that the restaurant played. You began to move your hips against his face, San adjusting to match the angle. He focused on your face, watching every reaction to everything he did, wanting to make sure to drive you to ecstasy. San had hearts in his eyes as he ate you out, drinking in your taste happily while you held back from screaming his name, arching your back against the chair.
The sight of you panting and gripping both his hair and the chair made San's cock twitch painfully, his hands leaving you for a moment, though he didn't leave you empty as his tongue moved to replace his fingers as he hurriedly removed his belt and unbuttoned his pants, allowing his cock to peek out from the top of his boxers. Your eyes returned to see San's tongue moving in and out of you as his hands worked on his cock, using his precum to jerk off.
"You tasted so good, honey" San moaned, hips pushing forward as he groaned "I couldn't hold back, baby. You're so hot, you make me so hard."
The sight alone brought you closer to the edge, the sight making San forget about himself to give you 100%, his lips wrapping around your clit while his two fingers returned to you, curling up in the best way as he pushed you closer and closer to an orgasm. As you came, you breathily said San's name, hips shaking as San quickly licked you up, his hips still thrusting forward into nothing, wishing it was you.
As you slowly calmed down, San returned to his seat as he licked his lips, stuffing something into his pocket. As you closed your legs and moved to grab your panties, your eyes slightly widened at the realization that he had taken them. San confirmed it by patting his back pocket, taking a sip of water as he said "Don't worry, they're safe with me."
"How am I supposed to walk out of here without them?" You asked, San's smirk only growing as he said "Who said we were done here?" You raised an eyebrow as San flipped the tablet to face him, leaning forward with dark eyes, smirking as he asked "How do you feel about dessert tonight, baby?"
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"Shh baby, remember, we aren't home where you can scream my name baby. Here, give them to me"
You moaned as San gripped your chin, making you face him as he continued to fuck into your pussy from behind, propping one of your legs up onto the table to fuck you deeper. You gripped the tablecloth and San's hair as he moved, fighting the urge to moan louder. You bit your lip as San pulled back, his eyes now blown out as he moaned quietly "There we go baby, let me give you my present for working so hard" San began to kiss down your neck, his free hand moving to bunch up your dress more at your hips to use as leverage as he began to move faster.
The only sounds that left you both were hushed moans and the sound of your cock plowing into your pussy, the squelching noises driving San crazy. "San, slow down, you're-"
"Shh, my pussy is talking to me" San groaned, his eyes locked on the sight of his cock moving in and out of your pussy, his tongue moving over his lips as he moved faster. You reached forward further on the table as San pushed you forward with every thrust, San's eyes landing on the cake you both ordered. "Here" San leaned forward, his hips still busy with their rough pace as he was able to keep his upper body up to grab a fork, gathering some of the vanilla cake onto his fork before he leaned down with you, his chest now against your back as he held it to your lips. "Say ahh, honey."
San didn't bother to stop moving as he fed you, chuckling at the moans that did escape you, praising you as he kissed your cheek.
"You're doing so well baby. Here's more, take it from my finger, yeah?" San dragged his finger along the frosting, holding it up to your lips as his pace sped up. You couldn't help but drop your head as his new pace, the frosting leaving San's finger to now land across your cheek. San chuckled at the sight, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he said "that's not what was supposed to happen baby. You were supposed to open your mouth, look at the mess you made." He continued his disapproving tone as he pushed himself up to stand behind you once more, deciding to take on the opportunity of having you bent against the table like this.
You gasped as San landed a slap against your ass, his pace picking up speed he chuckled, saying "Look at how you jumped baby. All because you couldn't just open your mouth for me. Why? All because this cock feels just too good?" San punctuated each word with a hard thrust, chuckling gently as you nodded. He placed his hands back on the table, leaning down to lick a stripe up your cheek where the frosting was before he moaned "You're acting so messy, aren't you baby? Allowing your husband to have his way with you in a restaurant like this where anyone can walk by and hear us."
San's words and his pace pushed you closer to the edge, nodding before letting out another choked-out moan as San delivered another smack to your ass, his hands now gripping both cheeks as he quickened his pace, groaning "You're just my little slut, right baby? Anytime, anywhere I can give you this cock, my tongue, my fingers, anything, you'll take it right?"
"Yes San" You began to feel tears brimming in your eyes, San's lips pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek as he whispered "That's what I love about you, honey. You'll let me plow this perfect pussy over and over again, giving you pleasure just the way you'd like."
"What if someone were to walk in right now, baby?" San panted, his hips rolling against the flesh of your ass as he leaned forward to bite and kiss your shoulder, continuing to talk, almost to himself as he moaned "You look so pretty like this baby, god, it makes me want to take a picture of you like this. Let the whole world see how beautiful my wife is."
San could tell you were close, leaning down to kiss up your back as he groaned "Don't hold back, please don't. Cum baby, please cum" You gasped at his words, rushing to sit up at his words on your elbows and grip his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss to muffle yourself as your cum coated all over his cock. San cursed at the feeling, keeping you up as his hands separated your ass cheeks, watching as his now cum coated cock plowed into you, the sight bringing him close to the edge.
"Where do you want me to cum tonight, Honey? Want me to fill up this perfect fucking pussy?" He asked desperately against your shoulder, kissing wherever he could as his pace grew rougher, chasing his release as you nodded, pulling him into another deep kiss as he came, his hips shuddering against your ass as your tongue locked with his. San massaged your body as you both kissed, whispering praise and compliments before he pulled back, licking his lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, giving you both a moment to calm down.
"Do you think we were too loud?" You asked as San slowly pulled out, shaking his head as he placed a kiss to your shoulder once more before he pulled back with a gentle mile. "No. But even if we were, I paid extra to ensure that we were in a room with no one to either side of us"
"You thought of everything, huh?" You asked as he helped you get ready, laughing gently as he gave you a smile wink. Once you both were appropriate, San paid the bill before gently holding your hand, leading you with a proud smile out of the restaurant. San gently swung your hands as you both walked, making you laugh gently as you both approached the car.
"Wait, before you get in" San hummed, opening the trunk to take out a bouquet of roses he had hidden. As he held them out to you, he met your eyes once again with hearts in them as he said "I'm so, so proud of you honey. I cannot think of anyone more deserving of that promotion than you." You smiled as San kissed you gently, handing you the roses as he gently rubbed your arms, kissing your forehead as he hummed "Congratulations again, baby"
You accepted the flowers, climbing into the front seat as San did the same with a grin on your face. San smiled as you admired the flowers, gently rubbing your thigh as he began the drive home. "Do you have anything else planned?" You asked, turning to see your husband's smile turn into a smirk, the hand on your thigh slowly moving towards your pussy as he said "well, I plan on getting my wife home and continuing our celebration in a more private setting." You spread your legs more as San pushed in two fingers, San's voice meeting your ear as he pulled up to a red light, hunger lacing it as he hummed "starting right now."
BAMBIKISS | 2025
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ptergwen · 5 months ago
Note
hiii
so this might me dirty but hear me out
It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna
so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but
stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)
oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man
have an amazing dayy
a parker thing
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w/c: 2,364
warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing
a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3
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you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.
ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.
tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.
you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.
"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."
"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."
friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.
"thanks, fri."
you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.
"huh."
you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.
"weird."
first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.
you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.
"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."
peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.
"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."
"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"
peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.
"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."
"new features? like what?"
"you know the one i was telling you about..."
you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.
"go on, i’m listening."
peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.
"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."
"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."
you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.
"y/n? you okay?"
peter must have noticed you spacing out.
your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.
"horny."
peter's features form a smirk.
"i got you, baby."
he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.
peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.
"one sec, lemme get this off."
peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.
"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."
peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.
"stop teasing, parker."
"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"
something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.
"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."
peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.
"do it."
you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.
"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."
"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."
peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.
"what was that?"
you breathe out a low laugh.
"nothing."
you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.
"wanna feel you, y/n/n."
peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.
"wanna feel you too, pete."
you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.
he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.
you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.
"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."
"me neither."
he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.
"y/n..."
peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.
"i know."
you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.
peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.
"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."
peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.
"god, fuck."
he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.
"fuck, baby. woah."
you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.
"oh my god, pete. that was..."
"yeah."
peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.
"sorry."
he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.
"it's okay."
you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.
"aw, you tired?"
"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."
"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"
"sounds perfect."
peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.
"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."
peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.
"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."
"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."
"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."
you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.
"why does this keep happening?"
peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.
"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."
"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"
"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."
"oh. maybe it was someone else."
peter quirks a brow.
"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."
you turn to face peter.
"so why am i sticky?"
between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.
his spider powers.
"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."
"you don't mean... no."
if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.
"uh, yeah."
peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.
"we must share some dna."
"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"
"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."
"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"
"exactly."
peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.
"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"
"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."
"so what?"
"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."
you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.
"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."
you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.
"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"
"something like that. you're not mad?"
you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.
"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."
"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."
"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."
peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.
"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."
you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.
"mrs. parker, i like that."
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(too lazy to use tags lmao)
1K notes · View notes
cherryheairt · 16 days ago
Text
Last Time (I Seen the Sun)
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req: HI! could you do a remmick imagine but instead of him coming for Sammie's voice he comes for his sister because he feels a soul tie to her almost like soulmates
Remmick x f!black!reader
Everything about looks left to imagination, but obv is Sammie's twin sister lol
This really ran away from me.
wc: 10.3k
cw: remmick, religious disbelief, ultimatum, (don't like dont read), thirsting after sketch men, f!r is an adult, dark!remmick? kinda but not crazy? you'll see
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You avoided Sammie's knowing eyes as the Juke started to come to life.
Bo was busying himself setting up the bar while Grace steadily worked at the sign that would be the finishing touch on the old mill.
Annie was flittering between the back of house and the trucks outside to get a head start on the cooking for the night: prepping vegetables and mixing the seasonings that would later garnish the heavenly plates of catfish that you remembered oh-so-fondly from your childhood. That was, before Smoke and Stack left for Chicago to find their way in the world. You didn't see much of her after that, especially not after the loss of Smoke and her went through years back. You don't think either truly recovered from it—or if anyone could.
Delta Slim was at the little stage in the back, humming to himself and smoothing aged hands over the second hand piano like meeting an old friend again.
Your cousins were who-knows-where, counting beer and cash and whispering to each other about complicated things you'd rather not stress yourself about. You had a good hunch that a lot of their new money was come by in less than favorable ways, and sometimes ignorance truly was bliss.
You sat in your sunday best, feeling slightly out of place although tonight you knew you'd have to be the center of attention. At least you had Sammie, still. Your pillar when things got rough, especially at home. You were both the eldest of your parent's children, deemed the caretakers and the legacy followers. Sammie more so than you, who was expected to follow in father's footsteps and become the next town Preacher. Though, you weren't let off lightly and allowed to slack off. All of the young Clarksdale girls looked up to you for example, and all of the older women expected you to be the epitome of a perfect and pure young lady since you were nothing but a babe.
Still, although your father forbade it outside of the Church choir, you and Sammie found time in your late nights to practice. After everyone had gone to sleep for the night, the small Church was a secluded paradise where everything else seemed to fade away. Good things could only last so long until they were ripped from under your feet.
The betrayal to your parents was eating away at your stomach. The image of your father's dark eyes glaring at you as you followed Sammie outside of the Church and into the twins’ car haunted you every time you blinked. The frown that tugged at your mother's face tugged at your own unconsciously.
“You're not gonna throw up all o'er the stage, now, are you?” Slim asked, noticing your expression and knuckles tightening against your guitar's neck.
“No, sir.” You managed, swallowing back bile and reminding yourself that the bitter taste on your tongue was just your mind playing tricks on you.
“Good. ‘Cause I'm not the one that'd clean it up.” Even if it was your first day with Slim, you could tell he had a good heart. A good soul. Checking on you subtly while he was busy tuning the piano.
You smiled weakly in response, brushing your tongue over your teeth in some attempt at grounding yourself.
‘You keep dancing with the devil, girl, one day he'll follow you home.’ Your mother's warnings were a gentler version of your father's preaching. You'd be wise to listen to your parents, yes, but then you'd also be stuck in the outskirts of Clarksdale your entire life, being reduced to the Preacher's sister and the wife of some faceless man.
You'd never played in front of a crowd before, not like Slim had. Not without the rest of the Church singing with you. Even then, your voice was hidden beneath the masses and your tone muted and dull with the repetitive hymns.
Smoke and Stack were practically throwing you to the wolves with tonight's opening performance. One mistake, and it could affect their business as well as any future you could have possibly gotten a chance at. Just one chance, that's all you needed. Prove to everyone, and yourself, that you weren't just blowing smoke up your ass about your talent.
A drink appeared in front of your eyes, and you looked up to see your brother holding out one of the twins’ Irish brewed beers.
“The people are gettin’ antsy.” Sammie spoke up casually, walking up from a conversation with one of said people from the faceless crowd. It was all too much and yet nothing compared to your dreams.
You took it, wetting your lips with a slight peak of tongue before popping open the bottle, clinking necks with Sammie's own and taking a hearty gulp. Cringing at the bitter toffee flavour and tracing your fingertip over the narrow rim in favor of taking another.
“You need me to go solo?” He asked after a beat of silence. He could, he really could. Sammie had a certain talent of captivating people, getting lost in his music and transcending the Earth. You stayed grounded in times he was up in the clouds, all too aware of everything to be carefree.
“Nah.” You assured, nudging his knee with your own. “I can do this.”
He smiled, and let his gaze follow the mingling crowd and the individuals making it up. A particular lady caught his eye—perhaps a bit too old for him to be biting at her heels, but who were you to judge your brother's whims?—and he never took them off of her for more than a few seconds as she weaved around men and women like a dove.
And even with a million things racing through your mind, you could always make room for a bit of teasing. Especially with Sammie, the only one who would tolerate it. “That's the woman from the station, ain't she?”
Sammie's brows lifted to his forehead like he'd been caught in a scandal. “Could be. There's a lotta folks from the station here.”
“Right.” You hummed. “Her husband didn't join her, what a pity to dance alone.”
Before Sammie could stammer out some urged reply, the elephant in the room caught both of your attention. A woman, skin pale and cheeks rosy, striding through people like no one m's business.
“Is that. . .?” Sammie trailed, sounding nervous at the implication.
“Stack's girl.” You narrowed your eyes, shocked but not entirely disappointed at Mary's appearance. From Mary and Stack's encounter at the station, you had figured she wanted nothing to do with him or his new joint. Nothing to do with her past at all. You'd never met her up front, but heard of her from murmurs throughout the town about her white husband saving her from the prejudice her mama went through. She was furious, and understandably so with how he handled their ‘break-up’ years prior. Marrying her off like some broodmare and calling it protection. You couldn't personally understand her tribulations, but they were certainly an underlying fear of yours. Being hidden behind a man was the last thing you wanted, and as much as you loved your brother you would sure as hell work your ass off to be on the center of your own stage.
“I wouldn't let ‘er hear you say that.” Sammie huffed, dusting himself off and moving to approach her, likely to convince the woman to leave before the twins caught wind of her arrival. You snickered as you watched her get defensive immediately, shouldering past him on her way to the bar where Grace was pouring drinks. It only took a minute of them sitting down and speaking in hushed tones for Stack to catch sight like a hawk watching his skies and all the prey within his sight, swooping down and taking Mary aside to deal with their matters alone. Sammie shuffled his way back to you, looking more like a scolded child than he had been when you left the church with your father’s scornful stare on your necks.
Patting his shoulders, you welcomed him back without a peep, despite the effort it took.
It was Smoke who approached you, leaving Annie's side from the stockrooms to urge you up on your feet.
“It's gon’ be dawn before the two of you stop draggin’ your feet.” He started, exasperated though you could tell it wasn't stemming from you and Sammie. You didn't pry, just stood up and straightened your shoulders, trying your best to appear collected.
Shaking your hands out, you rested them atop the strings of your old guitar—a double gift from the twins, of course—and felt Sam move to do the same beside you. You met his eyes, noticing how his nerves began to wash away even when eyes turned to the two of you. People surrounded you from all sides as you stepped from the stage and onto the leveled floor of the mill. Stack and Smoke stood at opposite pillars, wearing eager and somber expressions respectively. Annie stopped serving plates and fixed her attention on the two of you like her customers did, an expecting look on her serious face. Slim was still up on the stage, allowing you your own time to shine before he touched the piano.
A strum, then another.
Sammie plucked at his guitar, silencing the room until it was nothing but your music and quiet leftovers murmurs.
“Something I've been wanting to tell ya.” He reverberated, deep voice pulling the crowd in. “For a long time.”
Your head bobbed in time with your foot as you kept time, backing him up with chords.
“It might hurt ya, hope you don't mind. Well, I was just a boy, ‘bout eight years old. Threw me a bible, on that Mississippi road.”
Finally, you joined him, voices harmonizing with his vibrato baritone and your own melodic one. “See, I love ya papa, you did all you could. They say the truth hurts. So I lied to you.”
“Yes, I lied to you. I love the blues.”
The hums filled the room, and soon the crowd started dancing and flowing like water all around you, breaking off into pairs or trios, or simply dancing all alone like no one watched. Grace brought Bo out from the back, enticing her husband to dance with her with large grins on their faces. Mary and Stack two-stepped under the warm lights and for one night they could finally be together after years apart, laughter breaking through music and stomps. Annie glided through the dancefloor with Smoke close behind, never distant for too long and always making some kind of contact as they swayed to their own rhythm.
“Somebody take me in your arms tonight,” The Juke grew impossibly hot, sweat beaded on your brow and exposed neck and chest but you kept on. It was exhilarating to be surrounded by so much movement and familiarity, a place where no one could stop you or hold you back.
For the first night of your life, you felt alive.
Alive in a way you never could back home.
Alive in a way the church could never make you feel within those caging walls.
For once, the blood rushing through your veins and heart pumping against your chest like it was trying to escape wasn't because of fear or frustration, but jubilation and acceptance.
The Juke continued to grow in heat and noise as bodies mingled and danced, feet stomped, and voices sang to their heart's desire. It felt like raging fire burning through around you and throughout the old floorboards. Your body was weightless, floating from your spot and rising up to the stars when your eyes closed to revel in the novel feeling.
Sammie’s back was against yours as you hummed and sang in tandem, grounding you and bringing you back to earth.
“So preach on, speak your words.”
For a moment, a mere millisecond in that Juke, you swore you saw a glimpse of the impossible. Dancers dressed in large ornate gowns dancing like they'd burn a hole through the floor from their passion alone, guitarists striking foreign chords with shining, sharp instruments and dressed in tight, glossy clothing, and twirling women who weaved gracefully around people like they didn't need to see their surroundings to understand it. Within the same moment they were gone, replaced by the same people you'd seen all night. You blamed it on the strange beer although you'd only taken one sip, ignoring the tightening feeling in your stomach from your mother's words. They weren't true, devils and spiritual communicators were simply traditionalists’ way of coping with the things not yet understood. Your music was life, never death. You'd stand by that belief ‘til the day you died.
“I love the blues.”
Looking around the Juke Joint, experiencing the best night of your life thus far, you knew for absolute certain that you'd never let yourself be trapped in that small, forgotten corner of Mississippi.
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You went upstairs to take a small breather when Sammie went off with the train station woman, letting the cool night's air wash over you before you went back down to dance again.
A smile tugged at your lips as you sat at the opened upstairs docking dock door, the vulnerable position not bothering you but instead freeing you. Your legs swung from the second floor, crossing at the ankles while you wrapped a borrowed silky shawl around your shoulders. From your view you could see cars parked in the dirt and gravel, and all the stars blanketing them. It was hard to see in the near pitch-black, but the Juke's entrance light illuminated at least thirty feet out, slowly fading into dark the further from the joint you watched.
It was only a few minutes of your solitude before it was interrupted. Not directly, but the shadows of distant figures gradually growing as the light cast onto them caught your full attention. Grasping your hands around the edges of the old wood, you carefully leaned to catch a better look.
It was three people, all dressed fairly fine and modestly and striding up to the door where Cornbread was guarding dutifully. They seemed to carry an easy air of confidence and self-assurance, though any white person walking around in Clarksdale and surely any other town in the South was the same. They all were carbon copies of each other: cocky, predictable, prejudiced, and spiteful even as the laws progressed in favor of you. If anything, it made some even angrier at the very idea of black folk being equal to them. In their eyes, there was nothing worse.
Were they here for trouble?
“. . .don't mind us coming in, right?” The center man asked Cornbread. “We hungry as dogs.” The other man and woman laughed at his quip, trying to ease the obvious tension and apprehension that they created just by approaching.
They each carried different instruments leisurely either strapped to their backs or held under their arms. A banjo, a violin, and a guitar. Not an odd choice, but definitely a calculated one. Easy to travel with and even easier to claim as stolen.
The twins’ voices carried from the doorway as the conversation went on. You only heard bits and pieces when Cornbread spoke to them, but now it was clearer.
“I don't think so.” Smoke said firmly, set in his decision to not bring any trouble to his joint. Especially on opening night, which would make or break the business for the rest of its time. Folks saw that white people were welcomed and pushing themselves into their sole weekend escape and they'd never see the walls of the place ever again.
“We just wanna sing.” The woman pressed on, using her best sweet-girl voice. Nothing like that would ever work on Smoke, who quite possibly the most loyal man in the entire town and was not quiet about that fact.
“We came all this way,” the center man added. “It'd be a damn shame to go all the way back home without gettin’ a few dances in.”
Stack hummed, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. “Yeah, a shame.” Though no one made any move to let them in.
“Got money to spend and hungry bellies.” He offered, pandering to the twins directly, like three people's cash would make a large effect on the place's funding. Though, who knew, people like him seemed to have wealth growing from their backyards.
You didn't hear what exactly was said next by the people inside, making you lean slightly more and scooch your thighs off the edge just slightly more. You flinched when a stray splinter found it's way digging into your fingertip, immediately taking it to your mouth to attempt to pry it when you couldn't see it in the shadows of the second floor. Still picking at it, the bead of blood on your tongue turned metallic quick and the taste was all-too unpleasant, you'd have to return to your abandoned beer to wash the taste out before your next song.
When you turned your eyes back to the doorway, your heart dropped to your ass when the banjo-carrying man was staring right at you. Instinctively, you curled your legs up towards your body and away from the open air. Even if he couldn't reach from the ground, it just felt necessary.
You heard Sammie from behind the twins. “Stack, y'all alright?” In his deep drawl, always worried for family before anything else.
The man smiled, breaking eye contact with you and looking to Sammie instead. “You must be the voice I heard from out here.” He put a pondering finger to his bottom lip, subconsciously dragging it slightly down. “Is she part of that lovely duet we heard?” The finger moved slowly up to you, where all eyes that could see from the doorway glanced up. Smoke squinted, shifting on his feet with growing annoyance. He ignored the man's question.
“Like we said, you guys can find any other place to play. Jus’ not here.”
The man waved his hands, shaking his head along with them. “I think we got off on the wrong start, here. Let me introduce myself.” He placed a gentle hand to his chest, where the strap tightened against his white shirt. “My name's Remmick. This here is Bert and Joan.” Like the movement was rehearsed, the three of them whipped up their instruments into position, wasting no time to be interrupted as they started singing.
“Oh, I picked poor robin clean.”
If you weren't already creeped out by their insistence and synchronization, you definitely were now. The song was good, great even, you'd admit, but the lyrics rubbed you the wrong way right off the bat.
“Picked his head, ‘n picked his feet. Would'a picked his body but it wasn't fit to eat.”
A hunting song, a gambling song. Not a party song, like they apparently thought would be appropriate to sing after they heard the blue's being played.
Slowly, while they still played and swayed to their own music, you stood to your feet and held onto the doorframe while listening. Remmick's gaze met your own again, and his pearly teeth shone in the lamp's light even more, flaunting sharp canines and perfectly straight teeth. Despite yourself you refused to shrink back again and instead held his gaze, watching his grin tick upwards even more when you did.
It's fine, you assured yourself. He couldn't get up here or even past the doorway. Soon he and his little ragtag group of singers would be back on their way home and out of your sight.
Finally, when their eerie song had been interrupted after the joint owners had enough, Smoke asked a low question that you couldn't quite catch behind his cigarette.
Remmick suddenly seemed shocked, and his silver tongue stuttered over his words. “Sir. We believe in equality, and—and music.” You could put two and two together, and wondered the same thing for a moment. The twins did mention something about buying the joint from an old white man, and who knows what strategies they employ these days now that the Klan was technically outlawed. No one ever stopped, really, just had to get creative.
More words from Smoke and Stack, before eventually Remmick seemed to reluctantly get the idea. Not before getting a good last word in though, when he chuckled and rubbed the top of his wrist. “Oh, I get it.” Earning a solemn nod from Joan beside him, who seemed almost offended at the implication. “This ‘cause we. . .?”
Silence was his answer, and it said everything it needed to.
“Right.” He hummed thoughtfully, resting his hands over his banjo. “So, how'd she get in?” You could only assume Mary was standing somewhere behind Sammie and the twins, and the question made you snort before covering it, hoping no one heard it amongst the immediate defense.
He had a point, even if it was not asked for. The only reason Mary got in was her past with the twins and Annie. Still, family to the twins was famly to you.
“. . .family—” Came from Annie, solidifying your thoughts. Smoke quickly hushed the rising voices behind him, firmly stating his position one was time.
“So y’all sayin’ we aren't welcome?” Remmick asked, almost pouting.
“Y'all have a nice night.” Smoke smiled, waving him and the others off finally.
“We can take a hint,” sighed Remmick.
“We'll get out of yer hair.” He moved the banjo over his back again, turning to walk off. “But we'll walk real slow. . .just in case yall change your mind.” And he stayed true to his words, walking away at a snail’s pace and turning his head slightly. You watched him walk on looking like a kicked pup before deciding that he wouldn't be dumb enough to linger around a Juke filled with people plenty fit enough to dispel them if they tried anything, disappearing into the juke and rushing down the stairs to meet your brother.
The moment you touched down on the last step, it was Stack that met you instead of Sammie like you'd expected. He was leaning on an old banister, watching Mary walk away from him and back to the entrance where Cornbread was.
“What's up with those guys?” You asked in a huff, mind still lingering on the intense stare Remmick had set on you while fixing your shawl tighter against your shoulders.
He shrugged, unbothered by them like you'd expect from Stack. If you wanted concern, you'd go to Smoke for answers. “You ready to get up again?”
“I was gon’ look for Sammie.” You sniffed. It was odd that he disappeared so quickly.
He smiled like he knew something you didn't. “Sammie's fine, got busy with something else. I'm asking about you,” this earned him a raised brow and an unimpressed face.
“Yeah. I'll be up in a beat. Gon’ go make water.” You brushed past him to where Mary had disappeared to. Why had he let her go outside so soon after the three's departure? They couldn't have gotten far.
He scrunched his nose up briefly. “Don't gotta tell me that, just hurry back.”
You snorted, the words reminding you of a much younger Stack—the boy he was before Stack even existed. You didn't forget to grab a beer on your way to the exit, popping the top off and taking a breathless few gulps to steady your mind. The old bottle was probably long gone by now, anyway, discarded near the stage and making a sticky mess.
You felt like a creep following after Mary's footsteps, but the curiosity struck you deep.
“I'll be right back in.” You patted Cornbread's shoulder on your way past him, loosely holding the bottle by its neck and letting the coolness of it spread to your palm. It was hot tonight, as always, and the mix of bodies and movement didn't help. You just hoped you didn't look a sweaty mess in front of the whole joint when you went on stage again.
Your steps were hesitant and slow as you walked straight, staying in the light and approaching a small half-wall made of old concrete brick. You were sure you saw Mary in that fine dress of hers, just before seeing her disappear behind the overgrowth of the forest.
“Mary?” You called out, stretching up on your toes to catch a further glimpse.
No reply.
“Looking for someone?”
You flinched away from the voice behind you. Facing him, you clenched your hand tight the bottle, glancing between him and the door over his shoulder.
It wasn't too far. One smash over the head and you could run back to your cousins for safety.
“Where's Mary?” You asked. Bert and Joan were gone, too, and though that made it easier for you to run it made you worried for Mary. Would you be leaving her out here alone with them, when it was so easy to disappear into the thick of the woods.
He smiled, teeth showing past his pale pink lips with no worries in the world. “Mary?” He asked, tilting his head slightly. “I'm afraid I don't know any Mary's.”
“You know,” you grit, taking a careful and miniscule step back. “She just went past. The white girl in pink, hard to miss.”
“Hard to miss, indeed.” He muttered. “You, on the other hand, are much more worthy of remembering. Got a name to go with those mesmerizin’ chords of yours?”
A lie would be easy, though perhaps useless. If he went asking around he'd never find you anyway. No one knew your name or did you much kindness without the mention of the twins. Beyond your little community, your name wasn't remembered.
In one short, small breath, you introduced yourself.
“Suits you. I'd reckon everyone from here to Jackson is raving about the little starlet from their home.”
You didn't bother replying, he seemed perfectly happy to talk and talk and talk his way into and out of anything, completely ignoring your tense figure and defensive stance.
“I ain't heard a voice quite like yours in. . .” He stops to think, looking to the stars like they might have an answer somewhere up there in the vast darkness. He trails his eyes right back down, and somehow it feels like they glow from the moonshine. “Well, I think it's safe to say never.”
What did he want from you? What could you possibly give him besides good word to come into the joint. Unless it wasn't stemming from his want to get inside anymore, and simply a want for something else. If that was true, you feared you might not get to go back inside. “Thank you,” you managed to choke out, furrowing your brows as you looked through your dark lashes up to him.
Appease, appease, appease. That's what every woman was taught to do. Not that it always worked, but sometimes it was better than immediate offense.
He inched closer, walking right past your shoulder and parallel to you, looking sideways like inviting you to follow. “Why don't we have a seat? I'm sure your feet are killin’ you in those shoes.”
You glanced down at them, shifting slightly. Maybe, but no foot pinching from old shoes were as bad as the things a man is capable of.
Did he change accents? Just for a moment, his r's rolled off his tongue differently. Whatever it was, a slip of tongue or genuine effort to hide something, you'd never heard anything quite like it.
You could run now. Run and get Smoke or Stack or even Cornbread as unarmed as he might be. But then Mary would still be out here alone. And he hadn't threatened you yet, just gave you an eerie feeling. Listening to your gut was the smart thing to do, but something compelled you to sit with this strange man.
Reluctantly, you sat at the half-wall a few feet away from him, noticing his smirk as you did. He didn't close the gap, which you were grateful for. Still, your back was rod-straight and body faced forward while your head faced him. Your hands stayed on both ends of the shawl, bringing the bottle to sit on your lap, slightly out of his sight although it never left either of your minds.
“How's that cut?” He asked.
“Cut?” You didn't catch on.
Remmick nodded towards your hand that wasn't holding the bottleneck. “Saw you got cut by that old wood upstairs. Nasty thing, to get wood out in the dark.”
His words were so casual that it was almost like catching up with an old friend. On his part, at least. You didn't move your hand to inspect it again, not taking your attention off his figure. “Just a splinter, I'm fine.”
He seemed satisfied with that, glancing to your hand and then right back up. No blood, no problem. The simple fact that he noticed your quiet exclamation of pain was astonishing. You didn't quite recall being so loud that even the cicadas didn't drown you out, but some people just had that sixth sense.
“Where'd Mary go?” You start, breaking the silence.
His shoulders moved like he sighed, though you couldn't hear the exhale. “Joan said something about her asking ‘bout a song.”
“A song?”
He hummed, “they're a real talent, aren't they? Singing in harmony like that. I'm new to their little night act, haven't quite found my place yet.” His eyes never left your face. Didn't oogle or stare at your legs or chest, and somehow that wasn't any better. His gaze felt like it looked straight into your soul and past flesh and bone. All-knowing and omnipotent, anticipating your every action.
“I'm sure you know about that.”
“Why d'you say that?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes at the implication. You weren't out of place in your music, and certainly not new to playing with Sammie. There was no comparison.
Remmick leaned back, tucking his ankle over his knee and resting his hands on the top leg casually. “You ‘n that boy.” He said sagely. “Your brother, I assume?”
It was best not to answer that, wasn't it?
“He's good. Real good. Sings from the soul and holds a room.”
“He's a real talent.” You nodded.
“Are you?” He tilted his head again.
“Am I talented?” He's the one who said that by the entrance. “Isn't that vain to admit? I enjoy it, that's enough.”
“But you're good. You know it, too. Nothin’ wrong with a little pride.”
There was, in the eyes of the ‘Lord’. Pride, the acknowledgement of your own accomplishments and the want to gain more; to be more than a humble servant to the Lord. You were greedy, prideful, envious—a sinner. Maybe you knew, deep down, that your father's preachings were true and simply didn't want to believe for the fact that you were digging yourself a path straight to hell for your actions. If you were to sin, you'd do it without regret.
Heaven knows how much your mother's fate might condemn you more than the devil would.
“That depends on who you ask.”
“It does,” he breaths through his nose, amused. “If you ask me, I say to make the most of life while we're still livin’ it.”
The words left you sitting in silence for a while. A few moments, a few minutes, it didn't matter. You shrugged, laxing your shoulders slightly. The night cooled down significantly, leaving little heat on the earth under your feet. Remmick didn't seem to mind the chill, simply throwing his head back and enjoying the earthy scent it carried. Music was playing from the joint, still, loud and lively. A woman's voice rang loud and clear, and stomps vibrated the ground so strongly that you felt them from outside.
“I'm good.” You finally said. “But I think Sammie's better. He makes the room feel like it's got no walls, like something otherworldly. . .it comes like breathing to him.”
“On the contrary,” Remmick says. “You make it feel alive.”
You couldn't stop the smile that tugged at your lips and make your cheeks burn, running a nail over the rim of the bottle to distract yourself from his stare.
Playfully, he raises his hands in the air. “On my momma's grave, I wouldn't lie to you, darlin’.”
“Mmhm,” you chuckled quietly. “I'm sure.”
“If there's one way to describe it, it's like seeing spirits from the other side dancing and singing right by your side.” He really believed what he was telling you, and that almost made it worse. You denied the same feeling a hundred times before, playing it off as the spiritual remnants and heavy aura of the Church. Tonight, it was just the mix of dancing bodies and heat.
Your throat felt tight again, and you chewed at your cheek thoughtfully. “I don't believe in that stuff. It's just a feeling, a fleeting moment when adrenaline influences you like liquor. ‘S a nice thought, but that's all it is—a thought.”
“A thought,” he nodded, taking in your words and looking at the lively building. “No one in there can appreciate your gift. One night of fun is all they're after.”
“Escape isn't a bad thing.” You mused. “Everyone in there is coming from their dead-end jobs or screaming kids. One night is nothing compared to the week's labour. If I can play just for a few hours a night to make them forget the day, then it'll be worth it. Don't need it to be appreciated.”
His lip quirked up in a small smirk, one that you interrupted as his relation to them.
“What do you do during the week, mister?” You asked. “What toils your body so and makes your soul yearn for song?”
The upturn falls faster than it rose and suddenly Remmick was downcast. It takes a while for him to answer, and his tone sounds reminiscent when he finally does. “I was a farmer.”
“Was?” You ask tentatively.
“Was.” He confirmed. “It was hard. Long, hot days. Restless nights.”
“What was your solace?”
“Well,” he smiled, almost bashfully. “I didn't have anyone to come home to. No wife or kids. The thought of all of it paying off one day to give them a good life was my solace. I suppose my hope woke me up every morning and gave me sweet dreams every night.”
“What made you quit?” Your hands played with the hem of your dress rather than the bottle, indulging yourself in conversation.
“Someone took it from me.”
“Oh,” you hummed. He didn't explain, and you didn't ask further.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Your escape. What're you running from?”
“I'm not running from anything.” You defended quickly. “Can't I just have dreams?”
“Every dream comes from somewhere.” He shrugged. “No escape, then. What about. . .destiny?”
Again, you shook your head. “I don't believe in whatever faith you're tryin’ to sell me.”
“Not a preacher.” He assured. “Just a man, humbled by life. You don't believe in destiny, either?”
“I believe that our choices are the only thing that leads us down the road. No predetermined fate that gets set for us before we're even born. What's the point of living if it's all drawn out for us?”
“I can't argue with that, lass.”
A faint, almost drowned-out screech led your attention to the forest behind you. “Mary?” You murmured, standing and wildly looking around the pitch-black to see movement.
“What's wrong?” Remmick asked, unmoved.
“You—you didn't hear that?” All the progress you had made with Remmick felt like it dissipated into the air. She went off with two strangers and you'd just sat conversing casually with the third.
That's when he did stand. Taller than you, broader, with not a worry on his face. “I didn't hear anythin’. You feelin alright?” The hand that reached out to you was slapped away, and he had the nerve to look shocked.
“Don't touch me.” You panted briefly, head fogging with fear and regret. Get Smoke and Stack, then find Mary with them and their guns. You should've done it the moment you saw her disappear into the bramble.
Hands up, Remmick nodded firmly. “I won't do anything. Thought we was just having a nice chat. Guess I was mistaken.”
Stiffly, you nodded. “Excuse me.” You turned heel to slide away from the half-wall and towards the Juke Joint, glass gripped in your hand like a vice ready to be wielded. If you had to, you would. He didn't make any move towards you and it almost felt like a home run.
You got halfway before he spoke again. “Do you believe in soulmates?”
Almost there. You could see Cornbread in the door, but he was turned around and clearly talking to someone that you couldn't see.
In a flash, you were physically halted. Flinching, you looked up to see Remmick right in front of you with a light touch on your shoulders. Too light, unrestraining but imposing. There was no way he could've sprinted in front of you like that in the split of a second, not unless he wasn't human.
Your name came softly from his lips. Familiar and tender in a way you'd never heard before. Frozen, you didn't move a muscle in his grasp nor take your eyes off his. You weren't mistaken when you saw his eyes flash for the first time in that doorway. Everything about him seemed more menacing, from his teeth to the browns of his eyes glowing unnaturally red even when faced away from the light.
“I believe it's rude to ignore a question.” He clicked his tongue like you were nothing more than a disobedient child. His smile was cool and lazy, trusting that you weren't getting out of his hold.
“Let me go.” Your voice shook despite yourself. Your resolve wavered and stomach twisted with fear, and he soaked it up like fine liquor.
“That's alright, maybe you didn't hear me the first time, hm?” He purred out. “I asked: do you believe in soulmates?”
“I need to get back inside.” To Sammie. To safety. You were stupid to indulge in this man's whims despite your gut feeling.
“What's in there that's not out here, lass?” He twisted, waving one hand towards the decrepit building and keeping the other on you. “They're not gonna make you famous. They won't remember your face come morning, and certainly can't appreciate that gift you got.”
Remmick almost sounded angry for you. Like he was the one getting stubbed.
“I never said I wanted to be famous. Just wanted to sing, that's it.”
“Oh, baby.” He tutted, teeth flashing behind his pink lips. “I know exactly what you want. Maybe even more than you.”
The world was still. Has the cicadas and crickets been silent all night, or were you just noticing now, when your heartbeat replaced all other sounds? Without another prolonging moment, you swung your hand up and broke the half-empty bottle over his head.
He didn't stumble, but his eyes widened after the initial hit and let you go. Blood poured from his temple and over his ear, dripping in rivers down the side of his face and to his neck.
He laughed.
Remmick laughed, and you ran.
It felt like you carried a thousand pounds on your shoulders as you did, but you didn't stop or look back until you got to the door.
“Whoa there, little lady.” Cornbread soothed as you ran right into his chest and wrapped your arms around him in heaving breaths of terror.
“Close the door!” You shouted, relief unpalpable.
Bemused, he did as you commanded and called behind you both for either of the twins.
It was Smoke who came for you, Annie trailing behind him. With wet eyes you started to sob out incoherent explanations. “They got Mary, Smoke. I don't know what they are but they ain't human. She followed them and I heard her scream. God, Smoke, I think they killed her.” You panted out, clutching your stomach as bile rose to your throat.
Annie reached out for you first, her warmth a welcoming comfort despite the heat overwhelming your body already. “Calm down, you're gonna give yourself a heart attack like that.” She rubbed your back up and down, firm and slow.
“Who got her?” Smoke asked, hand reaching for the gun in his jacket.
“The guys you sent away. I saw Mary and Stack talkin’ and followed her outside. Those two led her into the forest and one of them stopped me before I could get to her.”
Smoke shared a glance with Annie, narrowing his eyes at your words. “You said they ain't human?”
You shook your head quickly. “The man—Remmick—he came in front of me from twenty feet away in the blink of an eye. His teeth are sharp, and he didn't even flinch when the glass got stuck in his head. His eyes were red and glowing.”
Annie tensed. Smoke, on the other hand, seemed to relax even just slightly. “You sayin’ those three are some kind of demon?”
“Something!” You exclaimed, exasperated. “I don't know what, but they got her. We need to help her.”
Smoke resolved to a simple nod and beckoned across the room for Stack to come down from the rafters. “We'll find her.” He leaned above you, muttering something in Annie's ear that you couldn't make out. Annie's hold on you tightened and began leading you to the back rooms.
A light knock sounded on the wooden door. Everyone in the entrance froze, eyeing the door carefully.
Cornbread, who had been a silent observer this entire time, waited for permission from Smoke to move before he slowly cracked open the door. Smoke pointed his gun right at the door, head-level, waiting for an opportunity.
There, right as rain, stood a perfectly intact Mary.
“What's everybody standin’ around for?” She smiled, and it seemed all too familiar to you. “You gon’ let me in, Cornbread?”
“Of‐of course, Mary.” He stammered out, opening the door wider for the young lady to be let in.
“Mary?” You whispered out, clinging to Annie's arm tighter. “But. . .”
“You feelin’ okay?” She tilted her head slightly, brown eyes lit with concern for you. You flinched when she felt a hand out to your forehead, and she slowly withdrew it back to her hip. “You're not looking too hot.”
Smoke kissed his teeth, putting his gun away just as fast as it got brought out. Cornbread closed the door again and the tension was thicker than the previous fear. “You been drinkin'?” Your name came from his mouth like a curse, which surprised you. He'd never turned his anger to you, or been angry at all, really. “Get back to the stockroom, I think you're done for the night.” He turned away, steps long and heavy as he met Stack half-way across the room. They shared a small muted few words before Stack nodded and went to Mary's side, discreetly glancing at you as he did. If you saw guilt in his dark eyes, it was gone a moment later. Mary grinned as he approached, their own conversation out of range for you as Annie led you to the kitchen's backroom.
“Annie, you gotta believe me.” You pleaded as she left you to sit on a crate. It wasn't a moment later that she brought you a glass of lukewarm water. She leaned on the crate next to you, folding her hands over her chest and simply observing.
“I believe that you saw something that scared the life out of you” She said, voice soothing and slow. “You're sure it wasn't just the light or the liquor?”
She was asking, but not in the condescending way you thought she might. Annie was cautious, always wary of her surroundings and looking out for the people she loved. She had been spiritual since the day you met her when you were both younger, and though you didn't believe her words of warning before and hoodoo bags of protection, you sure as hell did now.
Annie was trying to figure out what she was dealing with and how big of a threat it might be.
“I haven't drank anything, just a half-bottle of beer.” You persisted. “I walked away from him and he was right in front of me like a ghost. Hell, Annie, I smashed that bottle right over his head and he didn't even flinch. What kinda man doesn't react to blood seeping down his face?”
She pursed her lips, glancing to the open doorway and to the dancing people. They didn't have a clue in the world. You wished you could say the same and live in blissful ignorance again.
“You said you heard Mary scream. That she went off with those people?”
“Yes! It wasn't some jumpy screech, she was terrified, like they were hunting her down.” How was she alive, if Joan and Bert were indeed the same thing Remmick was? She couldn't have outrun or outfought them any more than you did.
She took your words in carefully, considering her options and opting to straighten up. “Finish that and stay right here. I'll be right back.” With that, she was off before you could get another peep out. It was easiest to guess she'd be right by Smoke's side, telling him her genuine concerns and getting brushed off when he insisted stuff like that simply wasn't real.
You weren't gonna wait around for her to come back with bad news.
The only way to find out what really happened was from the source. Or rather, victim of the source. You weren't crazy. Nor drunk or disillusioned by the night and it's tricks. You crept out from the room right behind Annie, merging with the crowd to slip back out of sight and towards where Mary and Stack last were. Near the entrance, parallel to the door you'd so desperately ran to, was one of the now-closed store rooms.
Gingerly, you twisted the knob open and called for her. “Mary?” The lighting wasn't too dim, a single oil lamp lighting the entirety of the area from the doorway and allowing you to see her straddling Stack on the floor. For a minute, you thought you had walked in on something you weren't supposed to, but the stillness of Mary's shoulders made you stiffen.
She slowly rose from her leaned-over positioning, face no longer buried into his neck. It's then that you saw the blood pouring from the side of it, watching him writhe in pain and bring his hand up to stop the bleeding. Your jagged breath caught in your throat as you took a step back to get help.
The music was too loud. The floor buzzed with the vibrations. The people were too densely packed to move through. Cornbread was missing from the door. You had to get Mary off Stack and stop the bleeding, and then simply hope that someone will come running in when they hear the commotion.
You ran up to her, reaching for her arm to tug her lithe body from Stack's, only to barely graze her skin with your nails when she jumped up. While he still twitched and gasped for air, Stack tried his best to look down at you and shake his head. The world spun around you as you got pinned to the floor, Mary's frame now hovering on top of your hips to hold you down. Blood dripped down her face and onto yours as she leaned over you, and you clawed at her face to get her off.
After a few moments of struggle Mary caught your wrists and held them tight. Blood and skin caught beneath your nails and you could taste the bile in your throat rising from the metallic scent that plagued you. She giggled airily at your plight and sighed. “You weren't s'posed to see that.” The words didn't sound like their own, wrong and dark out of her mouth. "I wanted to charm you the traditional way, but this works too."
Stack stopped moving by your feet.
“He'll be okay.” She reassured in a soft coo. “Little Mary just couldn't live on without Elias. Sweet, isn't it?”
“Mary. . .” You swallowed, willing all of this to be a dream. Stack was dead. Your cousin was dead right at your feet and Mary killed him. The woman he loved and thought loved him, too. His blood was on your face. You were next. No one would come to help you in this dinky little storage room. You'll die and then she'll kill your brother next. Smoke, Annie, Grace and Bo—every soul who just wanted one night of bliss wouldn't even make it to their own beds.
For once, you missed those cold church pews that made your ass sore and legs fall asleep. If you had to die, at least you were free for just one night.
Her grin only widened, stretching unnaturally wide and showing red-stained teeth. “We won't hurt ya’. You, or anyone else in here.”
Your hands trembled as you whispered, “I thought you cared for him. For all of us.”
Mary sneered, smile downturned like the flick of a switch. Claws dug into your arms as she seethed. “I do. You have no—” She paused, righting herself back up out of your face and loosened her harsh grip on you. “You don't understand yet, that's okay. We'll show you, won't we?”
“What happened to you? What'd they do to you?” You asked. Your limbs felt hot with pain but the fear of worse had your adrenaline pumping faster than a greyhound's.
Mary looked behind her to Stack, eyes tender despite the massacre she was looking at. “Nothing that you won't understand. But, honey, you need to make a choice real fast before he wakes up.”
“Wakes up?” You scoffed. “You fucking killed him!” She should have never been let in, and you should've never gone after her. The crazy bitch deserved to be alone.
She squeezed your wrists warningly. “I could go out there right now. I could tear a hundred necks right off without being stopped. But I'm bein’ generous tonight. You can come with us outside or let them all die—and then get dragged outside anyway. I don't particularly mind either way.”
You sucked in a breath. “Go with you where?”
“Not her, hon’.” She laughed.
“You?” Remmick.
“You're a smart girl, aren't ya? Smarter than most.” She, he, purred. “And I'll bet you're clever enough to make the right choice.”
The right choice. There wasn't a good choice for you, but instead the lesser of two unknowns. Why Remmick wanted just you to follow him without question was something you wouldn't know until you were in his clutches. Would he kill you, or perhaps do something much worse? There was no buffer or protection, no Sammie to look to when your father scolded you and no cousins to hide behind when grown men started growing bold. Just you and the devil staring into each other's soul. The devil who stole Mary's face and corrupted her soul.
Your mother was right, and you were foolish to think yourself above old wive's tales. Every one of them was rooted in truth, after all.
“If I come, no one else gets hurt?”
“Not a soul.” She grinned. You wouldn't forget the bloodthirsty glint in her eyes for as long as you lived.
“And if you're lying? If I walk out there and you choose to kill ‘em all anyway?”
“Cross my heart, sweet thing.” She sighed. “You just gotta take a leap of faith. Trust me, and you'll get trust in return.”
There was no reason you wanted them to trust you, for the same reason a wolf doesn't need to trust that a deer is faking its limp. It just doesn't matter in the end when the prey is dead in its maw anyway.
“Okay.” You said, relishing in the release of your limbs and the pressure of her body finally getting off of you. You slowly stood up, warily watching Mary dust herself off and hum.
“You can get up now, baby.” She laughed.
When Stack's deep laugh reverberated throughout the small room, you nearly fainted. Was it all a prank, or were you dead alongside your older cousin? Whatever they, or he, did to Mary and Stack, he'd surely do to you.
“Took you long enough to convince ‘er.” He said, wiping blood off of his neck and standing up as if nothing happened. But it was there, and it was real. A gruesome bite into the dark skin of his neck that had stopped bleeding the moment his heart did.
“Stack?” You sobbed out in disbelief.
He smiled, a more genuine and soft one than he had before. “I'm alright. Better than I've ever felt.” He placed his hands atop your trembling shoulders sympathetically. “You ready to say your ‘goodbyes’?”
Mouth agape, you slowly shook your head. How could you ever be ready to leave your family?
His jaw ticked. “Me neither.” But he guided you out anyway. He found a small, out of place looking scarf to cover his neck up, motioning for Mary to leave the Juke through the open entrance while he did. She rubbed your back as she passed, striding out of the building like she hadn't just upturned your entire life.
Stack headed to Smoke immediately, finding him huddled with Annie and whispering out of earshot from everybody else. You made way to Sammie, feeling your stomach churn with every step. He was just stepping off the stage from his second performance, sweat making his forehead gleam in the light and eyes shine twice as bright.
“Where've you been?” He exclaimed when you approached, boyishly smiling as he adjusted his guitar around his back. “We were supposed to play together, flake.”
You wished more than anything to tell him the truth, to beg him for forgiveness and never leave his side. “Wasn't feelin’ too great.” You said instead. “Stack's gon’ take me home so I can get some sleep. Heard you, though. You don't need me to share the spotlight.”
He shook his head with a playful scoff. “Don't be so dramatic, course I need you to play. That's what we promised, right? Two-man band.”
Born twins, just like your cousins. Always together, always having each-other's back when shit got to be too much at home. You had no clue what you'd do without your other half.
“Two-man band.” You agreed, blinking away tears from your waterline. You tugged Sammie into a tight hug, laughing when he patted your back in confused consolation.
“You sure you're okay to go home?” He asked quieter. “It's not long before we're all drivin’ back anyway.”
“I'm sure. Joint's too loud to get any sleep and my head's poundin’.”
He pulled away, inspecting you with a scrutiny that matched your mother's. He always had her face and kind eyes. “I can come with.” He said. “Make sure you're okay?”
“No.” You denied quickly. “No, I'm okay. Just a headache. ‘Sides, I think someone would burn a hole right through me if I took the showman away.”
When his face scrunched up in confusion, you nodded to the train station woman yet again, snickering when he noticed her intense stare on the back of his head.
“Stack's got me.” You offered. “You enjoy the rest of the night, okay?”
“Okay. I'll see you at church.” He said lightly.
“I love you. Be good, Sammie.”
He scoffed and lightly shoved your hands away. “Don't gotta tell me that. Love you, too.”
When he turned and went to the awaiting woman's vicinity, you finally let your face fall. Stack's hand was brought down onto your shoulder, a firm reminder of your promise.
“I know.” You grit out. But one look on his face, and you knew he felt the exact same way.
“I know.” He repeated. You stiffened your lip and looked forward.
The fresh air hit you like a warm embrace.
Remmick's knowing smirk welcomed you like a hyena finding a sick fawn. You could only feel like the prey in the fables, the ones that never quite learned their lessons about avoiding sharp teeth. No matter how much you cheered the little rabbit on, it always got too cocky and couldn't outsmart the fox.
Your hand was taken first. Remmick pulled it to his hand and placed a feather-light kiss upon your knuckles. No matter how much your mind screamed at you to pull away and run again, you were frozen in place. Nothing could save you out here in the open field. He didn't mind the tenseness of your arm nor the rigidity in the way that you stared up at him. “Smart girl.” He greeted with a satisfied grin. “You don't have to worry that pretty little head about a thing no more. I'll take care of you.”
“I don't want this.” You bit. “I don't want to be like you.”
Even as regret and fear slithered its way into your very soul, you couldn't help feel no disgust toward the affection he granted you. He hadn't stared untowardly, hadn't immediately forced himself upon you when you walked out the door, hadn't even threatened your life or your body.
He uprooted your life, though. And you couldn't forgive that.
He hummed thoughtfully. “You can't see it yet. But you will, dove, you will. You'll feel it just as I do.” He nodded towards the very happy couple off to the side. “Just as they do.”
Stack held Mary by her shoulders lovingly, and she snuggled her head into his shoulder with a content smile.
“Y'think I'm gon’ be like them?” You hissed. “I don't know what you did, but they aren't themselves no more.”
Remmick chuckled at your supposed petulance. “I just showed them what they could have. An eternity together. All I ask of you is a little cooperation and an open mind.”
“You're a damned fool if you think I'm kissing your feet and calling you a savior.”
He only laughs again, more genuine and less antagonistic. “I'd sure hope not. We're equals, ain't we? That's what soulmates are for.”
“You keep saying that.” You glanced to Mary and Stack, who were listening with thinly veiled amusement at your insistence. “That type of thing doesn't exist. M'not a child you can tell tall tales to and expect me believe them.”
“I agree.” He shrugs. “You're smart. You did what you had to do to save your brother. A hard choice, but you'll thank me for it later.”
“Thank you—!” You fumed, appalled at his quip and mention of your family. “It was either watch his throat be ripped out or walk into a snake pit!”
He wet his lips briefly, pink tongue just showing a sliver before disappearing back behind his teeth. Hands in his pockets, he stepped forward just a bit. It wasn't meant to be threatening, but it was all the same and he had to know it. Wordlessly, Mary and Stack left to his car to presumably wait for you.
“Saying goodbye was the hardest thing I had to do. Didn't get much of one, really, when the sun was risin’ and I had to hide away from my own folks and never see ‘em again. I know how you feel, really, I do.”
Your eyes were wet all over again, unable to be concealed even in the face of the devil. Or, especially in the face of the devil.
“So why'd you do this to me?” You whispered.
“Because,” he matched your low and even tone. “I wasn't meant to die a human. N’ neither are you. Once you wake up, you'll understand exactly what I'm feeling right now just lookin’ at you. When I heard your voice, that sweet, honey-like song you sang in there, I knew it was you I've been waiting for all these years. Every single moment I've spent wandering aimlessly has been worth the mind-numbin’ loneliness that's kept me company. That's why I had to show you, to save you from mortality.”
“Do I get a choice?”
Remmick smiled bittersweetly, eyes more human-looking than they'd been all night.
“‘Fraid not, mo chroí. Don't you worry that pretty little head o’ yours, it'll be over before you know it.”
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was very tempted to write a small epilogue timeskip of her and remmick visiting Sammie's bar years later and showing mc/reader's happiness in her new life with her soulmate but it already went over 10k words and I'm alr doubting this will do well lmaoo
man idk the exact order of events that happened this means i need to go rewatch Sinners about 4 more times in cinema. also idk who manned the bar, Bo or Grace? or Annie? But she did the food so ughhh I just went with Grace.
Sammie's pretty ooc but I imagine he's a lot different with a sibling than the cousins he hadn't seen in years. Different levels of comfort bring out different sides from all of us.
it's so frustrating i genuinely could not find clips of smoke and stack speaking during remmick's intro scene its all just the ‘sir, we believe in equality’ clip so the dialog is horrible on the twin's side. i cant wait for the movie to stream!
this one-shot is my longest single fic yet. she's a mammoth, of course
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corkinavoid · 10 months ago
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DPxDC When You Are Suddenly Dating a Princess
This prompt is a variation of good!GIW AU (read here), but that's an excuse because I just wanted badass Jasmine Fenton and her good boy Jason Todd.
"Jason?"
The voice catches him off-guard. Not because he doesn't know it, no, quite on the opposite - he knows that voice very well, he's just heard it this morning when his beautiful girlfriend kissed him on the cheek and left for work.
It's just that he didn't expect to hear it at a closed auction full of magic artifacts, two states away from Gotham, and in a room full of rich-ass people from all around the world.
He turns around.
Jazz is looking at him with an expression of pleasant surprise, black off-shoulder silk dress with teal accents draping her figure all the way down to the floor - it's kind of reminiscent of Greek togas, with high waist and lots of folds on the skirt. It also makes his girlfriend look even taller than she is, which, Jason is fairly certain, was intentional.
She is also wearing a necklace on her neck, and just by one look at it, Jason knows that it costs at least five times more than the apartment they live in.
"Jazz?" He breathes out, astonished, but then catches himself and puts on a smile, "You look stunning." This is not the time to argue or ask questions; he is on a mission. And it's a time sensitive one, so no matter how curious he is, it can wait till later. They do live together, after all.
"Thank you," the girl smiles, and then briefly turns her head to a tall man in a very expensive dark blue suit standing beside her, "If you excuse me," she nods with an apologetic smile in the corner of her lips, and the man smiles back and takes a step away. Meanwhile, Jazz approaches Jason and casually places a hand on his elbow.
"Mind telling me what are you doing here?" She questions, and, wait, that was supposed to be his line! Jason blinks and shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor.
He can't exactly say, 'Constantine asked Batman for a favor because he knows the man is rich as fuck, so now Jason has to either buy or steal an ancient dagger for some bullshit magic ritual because he was the only one free tonight and John really needs that dagger and that ritual and Bruce owes him a favor, unfortunately'. Jazz doesn't know he is a vigilante/crime lord in redemption. She might suspect he is - that girl is perceptive on par with mind readers - but Jason never straightforwardly told her, and she never brought it up herself.
So, instead, he goes, "Sightseeing."
Jazz raises one eyebrow and pointedly looks around the dimly lit room full of magic users, rich collectors, socialites, and other shady individuals. Jason keeps smiling. Eventually, the redhead sighs and looks away, taking a step forward and guiding him through the auction at a leisurely pace.
"Looking for anything in particular?" She tries again, and Jason debates if he should answer her. On one hand, his head is buzzing with thousands of questions, starting with 'how did you even make it here when your shift at Arkham ended two hours ago' and finishing with 'to which group of shady individuals do you belong'. On the other hand, she clearly does belong here if her confident posture and outfit are taken into account.
And she is his girlfriend. Has been one for two years now. Maybe it's time to share some secrets.
"An obsidian knife with an owl on the handle," he finally says, and Jazz hums.
"A Tecpatl?" She clarifies, and Jason doesn't even feel that surprised by her sudden knowledge of Aztec culture. He nods. Jazz gives him a thoughtful glance, "And how important is it for you to have it?"
"To the point where I'm prepared to steal it if I have to," he laughs, but judging by the look on Jazz's face, she gets that he is only half-joking. She narrows her eyes at him:
"Is it for you, or for your, um, friends on the orbit?" She asks, briefly glancing up to the ceiling, and Jason feels very confused for a second there.
But then it hits him: she is talking about the Watchtower. She is implying the League.
Jason doesn't hold back a quiet curse, "Damn it, I should have hidden the guns better, shouldn't I?"
Jazz laughs softly, but it's a warm, affectionate laugh, "Well, yes, but you also shouldn't leave bloody bandages in the bathroom. And your helmet on the kitchen counter," she tells him, amusement lacing her voice, and Jason rubs his face with his free hand.
"Fuck," he mutters. And then, "Sorry."
Jazz waves her hand it the air, brushing his apology off, "Don't worry. I'm not in a place to blame you for having secrets, am I?" She muses, and, okay, fair. But before Jason can try to make her elaborate on the topic, she returns to her previous question, "So is it for a friend?"
The knife, right. Jason makes an annoyed face, scrunching his nose.
"Yeah. Bruce owes someone a favor, but he couldn't make it. Other stuff came up," he huffs. 'Other stuff' in question includes some off-world mission, so he really couldn't make it, but that doesn't make Jason any less mad about it.
"Let me guess, that 'someone' smells of cigarettes and liquor, has a British accent, and wears a trench coat," Jazz deadpans, and Jason stares at her with wide eyes.
"How- Are you sure you're not secretly a mind reader?" He asks. He knows for sure that Jazz doesn't have a meta-gene, but maybe she is a magic user? That would explain why and how she is even at the auction. Yet, the redhead laughs.
"No, sorry. Just met him a few times," she winces like she can smell the phantom smell of tobacco even when the mage is not here, "Can't say I like him, but asking someone to fetch him a Tecpatl seems like his style."
That only makes Jason even more inclined to believe his girlfriend is actually a magic user. But he doesn't get to ask because Jazz suddenly looks him in the face.
"Consider yourself in luck, by the way," she grins, "You won't have to steal it."
[part 2 ->]
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