#'what are they gonna do? lock me up? i dare them' is a real line. 'ill bury you' is a real line etc

[4giorno]

im literally so done with people who keep saying tighnaris sass was a mischaracterization brought on by his previous en VAs performance. literally when we first hear him in game he is saying that some person keeps repeatedly not following his instructions so maybe he should put them on the middle of their forehead next time so they wont miss them

[its-avalon-08]

kiss and tell (cs55)

(in honor of our fav smooth operator's birthday!!)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - friends with benefits, jealousy, comfort

It all started in Singapore. The city was electric that night, the lights from the Marina Bay Street Circuit casting a mesmerizing glow over the entire island. The race had been grueling, one of the most challenging of the season, but Carlos Sainz had come out on top, crossing the finish line first and claiming victory. The celebration that followed was nothing short of euphoric.

The entire paddock was buzzing with excitement as the night unfolded, but amidst all the chaos, Carlos only had eyes for one person—Y/N. She had been a part of the McLaren team for a while now, working closely with the drivers and crew, and over time, a comfortable camaraderie had developed between her and Carlos. There was always something more beneath the surface, though, an undercurrent of tension that neither of them dared to acknowledge.

But tonight, things felt different. The champagne was flowing, the atmosphere was light, and the barriers they usually kept firmly in place were starting to crumble.

Later that night, after the podium celebrations, the party had spilled over into one of the swanky hotels overlooking the Marina Bay. The drivers were mingling, the music was loud, and the drinks were even stronger. Y/N found herself at the bar, nursing a cocktail when Carlos approached, still riding the high of his win.

“Not gonna lie,” Carlos said, leaning against the bar with that trademark smirk of his, “seeing you out there cheering for me was the best part of the race.”

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Oh, sure, it wasn’t the adrenaline rush of winning or the thrill of outmaneuvering the other drivers? Just me?”

“Absolutely just you,” Carlos teased, his voice dropping to a low, flirtatious tone. “You looked good today, Y/N. Real good.”

She raised an eyebrow, feeling the familiar warmth that always crept up when Carlos started flirting. “Careful, Sainz, someone might think you’re trying to get me into trouble.”

Carlos chuckled, taking a sip of his drink as he studied her. “Trouble? Who, me? I’m as innocent as they come.”

“Right,” Y/N replied with a grin. “Innocent like you didn’t just race at breakneck speeds through the streets of Singapore.”

“Innocent until proven guilty,” Carlos shot back, his eyes locking onto hers, the playful banter doing little to hide the tension building between them.

They spent the next hour trading flirty remarks, each one drawing them closer until the space between them was almost nonexistent. The noise of the party faded into the background, leaving just the two of them standing at the bar, caught up in a moment that felt like it had been building for months.

Finally, Carlos leaned in, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You know, I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for cheering me on today.”

Y/N tilted her head, her heart racing at his proximity. “Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?”

Carlos’s lips curled into a slow, seductive smile. “I have a few ideas. But I think we’d need a little more privacy.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze, the unspoken invitation hanging between them. She knew what he was suggesting, and she also knew she wanted it just as much. They had danced around this for too long—why not see where it led?

Without breaking eye contact, she downed the rest of her drink and set the glass on the bar. “Lead the way, Sainz.”

Carlos didn’t need any more encouragement. He took her hand, the heat of his touch sending a shiver down her spine, and led her through the crowd, away from the noise and the people. The tension was palpable, an electric current running between them as they made their way to the elevators.

When the doors slid shut, sealing them inside, the air became even thicker with anticipation. Carlos leaned against the wall, his eyes dark with desire as he looked at her. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice rougher than usual.

Y/N stepped closer, the proximity making her pulse race. “I think we’ve both wanted this for a while, don’t you?”

Carlos nodded, his hand brushing against her arm, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. “Yeah, I have. But let’s keep it simple, okay? No strings, just…us, enjoying the moment.”

She hesitated for a split second, knowing that agreeing to this meant putting aside any hope for something more. But tonight, with Carlos looking at her like that, she was willing to take the risk. “No strings,” she agreed softly.

The elevator dinged as it reached their floor, and Carlos wasted no time in pulling her out, his hand gripping hers tightly as they walked down the hallway to his room. The tension was almost unbearable by the time they reached the door. Carlos fumbled with the keycard, his usual steady hands slightly shaky with anticipation.

Once they were inside, the door barely clicked shut before Carlos had her pressed against it, his lips crashing onto hers with a hunger that left her breathless. The kiss was everything she had imagined—hot, desperate, and filled with months of pent-up tension.

Carlos’s hands roamed her body, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Y/N responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the two of them in a whirlwind of passion.

When they finally broke apart, gasping for breath, Carlos rested his forehead against hers, his voice rough with desire. “God, Y/N…this is exactly what I needed tonight.”

Y/N smiled, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, “I’m not going anywhere, Sainz.”

That night was the beginning of everything—and nothing. They had agreed it would be no strings attached, just something casual between two people who enjoyed each other’s company. But as the weeks went on, and the nights like this one became more frequent, it was clear that the feelings they had been trying to keep at bay were only growing stronger.

But Carlos was determined to keep things light, not wanting to ruin what they had with complications. He told himself over and over that this was enough, that he didn’t need more. But damn, he thought as he watched Y/N fall asleep beside him, her face peaceful and content, I’m in trouble. Because I think I’m falling for her.

And that was the one thing he was truly afraid of.

time skip

The days leading up to that night had been a rollercoaster of emotions for Y/N. Carlos had a habit of making offhand comments about relationships that cut deeper than she’d ever admit. They were subtle, sometimes even playful, but each one was like a small dagger to her heart.

It was just a few days ago when they were sitting in the McLaren hospitality area, surrounded by the usual crowd of drivers and team members. Daniel Ricciardo had been teasing Carlos about settling down, something about how the Spanish driver was getting too old to be a bachelor forever.

"So, Carlos," Daniel started, a mischievous grin on his face, "when are you going to finally settle down and stop breaking hearts left and right?"

Carlos chuckled, leaning back in his chair with an easy smile. "Settle down? Nah, mate, I’m not ready for all that. Relationships are too complicated. I’m enjoying life as it is."

Y/N, who was sitting across from him, felt her heart drop at his words. She masked it with a forced smile, pretending to focus on her coffee. Of course he isn’t ready, she thought, Why would he be? But underneath the casual demeanor, it hurt more than she could admit.

Carlos glanced at her, his smile faltering slightly when he noticed the way her eyes had dimmed. Fuck , Carlos, he thought to himself. Why do you keep saying this stuff? He hated seeing that look on her face, the one she tried so hard to hide.

But then, he did what he always did. He pushed those thoughts away, shoving his feelings deep down where they couldn’t betray him. It’s better this way. She deserves someone who can give her everything, not someone who’s constantly on the move, constantly putting himself first.

Yet, when he was alone, away from the noise of the paddock and the constant demands of racing, his thoughts always circled back to her. He would picture her smile, the way she laughed at his jokes, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about something she was passionate about. It made his chest ache in a way that was both painful and comforting. God, I love her. I’m so damn scared of how much I love her.

It wasn’t just the teasing from the other drivers, either. There were moments in between—when they were alone, when the world was quiet, and it was just the two of them. Like the time when they were sitting in the team garage late one night after everyone else had left. She was leaning against him, her head resting on his shoulder, and the silence between them was warm, comfortable.

Y/N had looked up at him then, her voice soft and filled with an emotion that made his heart race. "Do you ever think about the future, Carlos? About…what you want?"

He had stiffened slightly, the question pulling him out of the comfort of the moment. He knew what she was really asking, and it terrified him.

Carlos hesitated before responding, forcing a lightness into his voice that he didn’t feel. "I don’t think too far ahead. I’m just taking things as they come, you know? No need to complicate things."

He felt her deflate beside him, her silence saying more than words ever could. It was in moments like these that Carlos hated himself the most. Why can’t I just tell her? he thought, his mind screaming at him to say something, anything, to ease the hurt he knew he was causing. But instead, he just sat there, pretending everything was fine. She deserves better. I can’t give her what she needs. It’s safer this way.

But it wasn’t safer. Not for him, not for her. Every time he said something like that, he felt the distance between them grow a little wider, the connection that had always been so natural starting to strain under the weight of unspoken words and buried feelings.

They were friends with benefits, nothing more. At least, that's what they told themselves. Y/N knew she was in too deep; her feelings for Carlos ran far deeper than casual. But every time she tried to bring it up, Carlos would brush her off with a charming smile and a playful comment about how he wasn't ready for anything serious.

As the night progressed, someone suggested a game of spin the bottle. The group erupted in cheers and groans, the perfect mix of nerves and excitement. The bottle spun, pointing first to Y/N who blushed, much to everyone's amusement.

Then it was Y/N's turn. The bottle spun, clinking against the floor as it finally slowed down, the neck pointing directly at Lando. The room erupted in playful cheers and wolf whistles, while Carlos froze, his smile faltering just for a second.

Y/N glanced at Carlos, her heart skipping a beat, but he had already turned his attention away, a coldness settling into his features. She could see his jaw clenching, the muscle ticking angrily, but he said nothing.

Lando leaned in with his usual cheeky grin. "Guess it's us then," he said, his tone light and playful, trying to make the situation as un-awkward as possible.

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding, but not for the reason everyone thought. As Lando's lips met hers, what was supposed to be a simple, friendly kiss quickly shifted. Lando, sensing the tension in the room, deepened the kiss, his hand slipping to the back of Y/N's neck, pulling her closer.

The room fell silent, the air thick with a sudden intensity. Lando's kiss was anything but innocent—it was slow, deliberate, and filled with a surprising passion. Y/N's hands instinctively moved to his chest, gripping his shirt as she found herself kissing him back with equal fervor. She could feel Lando's heartbeat beneath her fingertips, the heat of his body against hers.

(a little carlos pov)

As Lando leaned in for the kiss, Carlos’s internal monologue went into overdrive. Don’t do it, don’t kiss her like that, don’t touch her like that. She’s mine, for fucks sake! Why can’t you see that?

He watched as Y/N responded to Lando’s kiss, her hands on Lando’s chest, their bodies too close for his liking. That should be me. I should be the one holding her like that, kissing her like that. But I’m the one who keeps pushing her away. This is my fault. I’m going to lose her, and it’s my own fucking fault.

The kiss went on longer than it should have, and with each passing second, Carlos felt his control slipping. His heart pounded in his chest, anger and jealousy swirling together until he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much it’s tearing me apart. But I’m too scared to say it, and now I’m losing you.

(out of carlos pov)

Carlos watched, every muscle in his body tensing, his breath catching in his throat. He tried to look away, but he couldn't. The kiss was more than just a game now—it was a reminder of everything he was too afraid to claim.

When Y/N finally pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, her breath unsteady. Lando kept his hand on the back of her neck for a moment longer, his thumb brushing against her skin as he gave her a small, knowing smile. "Well, that was something," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine, but it wasn’t from Lando's touch. It was from the cold, icy glare she felt burning into her from across the room. She turned to Carlos, who was no longer just silent—he was seething. His eyes were dark, filled with a mix of anger and something else, something deeper.

Carlos pushed his chair back abruptly, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. The room fell silent, all eyes on him. He stood up, his expression cold and unreadable. "I'm going outside for some air," he muttered, storming out without another word.

Y/N felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. She excused herself from the group, ignoring the curious glances, and followed Carlos outside. The night air was cool, a stark contrast to the warmth inside. Carlos was leaning against the side of the motorhome, his back to her, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Carlos," she called softly, but he didn’t turn around.

She moved closer, reaching out to touch his arm. "What's going on?"

Carlos finally turned to face her, his eyes blazing with an intensity that took her breath away. "What the fuck was that?" he demanded, his voice low but filled with anger.

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. "It was just a game, Carlos. It didn’t mean anything."

"Didn’t mean anything?" He repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sure didn’t look that way."

"What are you talking about?" Y/N asked, her voice rising in frustration. "You’re the one who said you weren’t ready for anything serious. You’re the one who keeps pushing me away!"

Carlos ran a hand through his hair, his expression torn between anger and something else—something deeper. "You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t hate myself for that?"

Y/N stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. "Then why, Carlos? Why do you keep doing this?"

"Because I’m scared!" Carlos exploded, the words ripping from him like a confession. "I’m scared of how much I care about you, how much I need you. I’m scared of what happens if I let myself love you and it all goes wrong!"

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. She had waited so long to hear those words, but now that she had, they were wrapped in so much pain and fear.

"I’m already in love with you, Carlos," she said softly, her voice trembling. "And it’s killing me that you don’t trust me enough to let me in."

Carlos closed his eyes, his face contorted in anguish. "I don’t want to lose you, Y/N."

"Then don’t," she whispered, stepping closer until they were inches apart. "Don’t push me away anymore. Let me love you, Carlos. You don’t have to be scared."

For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at her as if trying to decide whether to take the leap. Then, with a shaky breath, he reached out, pulling her into his arms. His lips found hers in a kiss that was anything but friendly—passionate, desperate, and filled with all the emotions he had kept bottled up for so long.

When they finally broke apart, Carlos rested his forehead against hers, his voice barely a whisper. "I love you, Y/N. I’m just…scared of how much."

She smiled through her tears, cupping his face in her hands. "Then be scared. But be with me. We’ll figure it out together."

Carlos nodded, his heart finally beginning to thaw. "Together," he repeated, sealing the promise with another kiss.

[princessbrunette]

outlaw!johnb had tried not to take advantage of your sweet body during his stay. what transpired between the two of you on the evening you met felt wrong. not-gentlemanly. like he’d taken advantage of someone sweet and sheltered. he’d been determined to keep his hands to himself until the time was right once more, but as your parents extended their stay away — leaving the house for the two of you to be alone in even longer, he found it increasingly more difficult to do so. especially when you were so keen on playing house.

you’d settled into a routine. john b would get up and tend to the ‘handyman’ things that needed to be tended to, like fixing the fence that had been destroyed in the storm or odd jobs around the house, and you would do all the domestic stuff — like cleaning, preparing meals, tending to the animals. today was laundry day, and clearly the routledge boy was ill prepared for what this meant.

whilst hammering away at the planks of wood beneath the blistering sun, the wavy haired brunette raises his head to see you appearing not far from him, a laundry basket balanced on your hip, wearing the flimsiest, shortest white sundress known to man. he allows his gaze to wander, offering you a small smile when you wave. you set your basket down to begin hanging up laundry on the line to dry, and as you bend down to retrieve the first clean clothing item — a warm breeze gently blows your dress astray, displaying your glistening cunt. john b tips his head towards the sky, closing his eyes with a pained groan. there would be no stopping him.

he tried, for a solid minute — but as he continued to watch you bend, your folds gently spreading each time you did so, he grew hard beneath the hot sun and decided enough was enough. he’d give you what you’d been pawing at him for all week.

“uh, are you kidding? you’ve got to be doing this on purpose. right?” that familiar chesty hum comes from behind you as you hang up a dress and you freeze, a gentle breeze washing over you.

“s’laundry day, john b.” you shrug, not daring to turn around. you wasn’t sure if you could control your lustful gaze.

“yeah? okay well — the lack of underwear is definitely gonna make this a lot easier.” he mutters as he strides closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his crotch to your ass. “touch your toes, sweetheart.” he commands and you shakily do so with an aroused whimper.

he decides it’s not enough, and when you’re fully bent at the waist, he gives you a gentle nudge forward and you topple onto your knees in the plush grass. “yep, stay riiiight there.” his words are somehow comforting as you hear his belt buckle unlock and his zipper come down. he pulls your dress up your back and swears under his breath at your puffy wet pussy staring back at him. “definitely… knew what you were doing there, huh.” he speaks mostly to himself.

“can you please try n’give me a baby this time, daddy?” you mewl, as he lines himself up and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“please shut up.” he blurts out before opening them. “i mean, uh… just… you can’t say those things sweetheart. trying real hard not to be too rough here.” he pushes in and your toes curl in the grass, a high pitch squeal leaving you as you grasp around at nothing. “i know, hey— stick with me here lil’ pup.” he coaches you, watching the way your body tries its best to relax. john b was big, and taking him with your ass in the air and your cheek in the dirt made him feel heaps bigger.

he bottoms out, tipping his hips completely forward with two hands on your lower back and his jaw agape. “wow.” he breathes out, staring intently at the way you’re stretched around his thickness. he’s snapped from his trance by your head craning round, some dirt on your cheek and grass in your hair.

“john b, the cows are gonna watch you give me a baby.” you’re pouting, and whilst the whole innocent act turns him on — he needed to lock in or he’d really cum inside you again. without much thought, he yanks his bandana from his neck and stuffs it into your mouth before gently pushing your cheek back to the grass.

“there you go. just hold on for me, okay?” he asks before he starts to thrust, bottoming out each time making his thighs slap against your ass cheeks. with each thrust, you let out a devastating little sound — pussy drooling around him. “see? gooood girl. you really like the whole mean, ruffian, outlaw thing, huh? soaking me here, bub.”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℒℯ𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝒽ℯ𝓇 𝒶𝓁ℴ𝓃ℯ

warnings: angst and fluff, Rafe is an asshole. This can be platonic or not ! reader is also just as chaotic as jj. dare I say they match each others freaks.

“Well, here are the hors d’oeuvres right here.” He pointed to a table.

“Okay.”

“We’ll be right back, okay?” You told them with a smile, grabbing onto JJ’s arm, suddenly feeling cornered by the three boys in front of you.

“No, we’re actually gonna follow you in here just to make sure…” Rafe started.

JJ grabbed your arm this time, he ran inside, shoving the doors in their faces, you all interrupting the kooks dining by running into chairs and shit.

They were behind you, JJs grip never letting go of your arm. You let out a cry when you tripped and fell over a plant, jj looking down at you and quickly helping you back up, despite them being right behind you both.

You both ran into a room, jj sighing in relief, thinking you both finally got away.

“Are you alright?” He asked you, his hand on your arm. You nodded, seeing some doors and nodding your head towards them.

“Ah, excuse me, guys.” JJ knocked on the door rapidly.

“I’m taking a shit!” The man yelled. Jj went to the next on, trying to open one, both being locked. He groaned in annoyance and you turned a corner, but Rafe was already walking towards you.

You backed up, hitting JJs chest. He wrapped an arm protectively around you and scowled at the boys in front of him.

“Hey, what you doing in the locker room?”

You both tried to get away, but you were suddenly grabbed by your arms, JJ being shoved onto the ground.

“Cute outfit.” JJ remarked before falling onto the ground.

“Shut up!” Rafe rolled his eyes, Jj glanced over at you being held tightly on your arms.

“Leave her alone.” He told Rafe, Rafe laughing and shaking his head.

“Afraid I can’t do that, bro.”

JJ was put into a chokehold while Rafe stands in front of him. “Hold them still. What- what do you think? A four iron, right? Alright, keep his head still, I’m gonna line this up.” Rafe pretended to hold a gulf club in his hands.

“Very Rafe of you. Five on two?”

“If you could please stop talking? It’s very disrespectful, I’m trying to hit a ball, right?”

JJ struggled against the man who held him in the chokehold, you scratching the men who held you in place.

“Fuck you.” You spat out to Rafe, his eyebrows raising.

“Wow! Lotta talk for a little lady like yourself.” Rafe chuckled, amused.

“Let us go!” You cried out, fingernails clawing at the man who held you. The man didn’t say anything, Rafe turned to look at you with raised eyebrows, ignoring you and just laughing in your face.

Rare leaning down to JJs level, smiling at the struggling boy in front of him.

“Your face looks really bad. Starting to look like your dad a lot more.”

JJ spit in his face.

“All right. It was-“ Rafe stepped back, the lights being turned on and off, a voice interrupted Rafe.

“Gentlemen!” You and JJ were shoved away, pretending to look innocent. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh! Pardon us, officer. No, there’s not an issue. You know we- we just-“ JJ spluttered. “Actually, yes. No, there is an issue. Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right?”

“Blatant disrespect for private property.” You chimed in. “Terrible, real criminal shit.”

“Yeah.” Rafe nodded.

“We’re in violation of all kinds of shit, sir. But these.. young gentlemen…” JJ touched the collar of the boys shirt, his hand being pushed away.

“Don’t touch my shit.”

“They caught us, sir, and they were just about to take us away. Ain’t that right, boys? And that’s what you should do. Escort us out of here. Ya got us.” You and JJ held your wrists out in front of you, you both being dragged away by the guard.

“Oh, fix that tie son.”’ JJ turned over his shoulder. “You’re lookin’ spiffy, too. You powerpuff girls have fun.”

“Yo, y/n, you look pretty hot for a pogue!” You turned around, looking at the boys in disgust, but JJ was quicker to act. JJ threw the guard off him, you watching in shock as Jj attempted to attack him, but got pulled away while you followed behind, eyes wide.

“You think I’m afraid of you? Come on! Say that shit again!” JJ spat, being turned around by the guard, you glancing behind you.

When the guard was busy, you stormed up to them, none of them willing to stop a girl. They underestimated you.

You stood in front of Rafe, all of them waiting for something. You slapped him in the face, he laughed quietly, and then you punched him square in the jaw, all of the boys being in shock, the others pulling you away.

“Don’t even come near the cut, or you’ll be real fucking sorry!” You shouted as you were dragged out, being pulled outside along with Jj.

“I really appreciate what you did out there, let me just walk out by myself-“ JJ spoke, being cut off when you were shoved to the ground next to him. JJ’s eyes widened, attempting to held pull you back up.

“Hey, shove off, man!” JJ shouted at the guard who kept trying to push him away. You looked down at the bruises forming on your arms, getting up to follow JJ.

“You rough him up?” He asked you with raised eyebrows.

“Not really.” You said with a small pout. “I tried. Got to punch him in the jaw.”

“Hey, that’s my girl!” He spoke, holding his hand out for a high five, you shrugging and raising your hand up. He grabbed two drinks from a table, giving you one and downing the other.

“Aah! Whoo!” JJ exclaimed. “I really appreciate the discretion.” JJ told the guard, finally being able to walk freely for moment without being shoved. All eyes were on the both of you now.

“It’s okay, everybody! Don’t panic!” He shouted.

“Hey, leave it to the men and women in uniforms let’s hear it for them.” You clapped your hands, both of you being pushed away by the guards again. “Rose! You look like lady liberty with those spikes.” You put your fingers on top your head, resembling spikes coming out. “Very cool stuff.”

“Oh, give me one of those.” He pointed.

“Let go of them!” Kiara shouted to the guard, everyone turning to her now. “You can’t boot him! I invited them here!”

“Kiara-“ her mom attempted to get her to quiet down.

Jj shoved the guard away when he grabbed you with force. “Oh, sorry about that. Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie! Pope, you as well, all right?” He told her. “Rixons cove. Let’s roll. All right, Kie, come on!” He clapped his hands.

“Workers of the world unite.” You clapped with him. “You know, throw off your chains!” You shouted, both you and Jj walking away with drunken giggles.

“Whoo-hoo!” JJ exclaimed to John B. “Colonel.”

“Captain.” He saluted.

“Mission accomplished, sir.”

“Come on, Kie!” You shouted. “Whoo, hey pope!” All of you laughing as you ran away from the party.

—

“You know, you trying to fight them for me is very noble of you.” You told him later, both of you sitting next to each other, the fire crackling behind you.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused until he remembered. “Oh. That…”

“Very sweet.” You shrugged.

He shrugged his shoulders, giving you a small smile. “I ain’t letting no one, especially not Rafe and his fuckin’ gooners talk about you like that.”

[irisintheafterglow]

I Think He Knows (pro!kirishima x you)

summary: he's not into party games, so what do you do for seven minutes when you're locked in the closet with your high school crush?

wc: 2.9k

cw/tags: aged up characters!!, friends to lovers, mutual pining, swearing (lots of it), truth or dare, slightly suggestive toward the end but nothing descriptive, first kiss, alcohol and drinking, just pro heroes being idiots

note: prompt is once again from @creativepromptsforwriting because i wanted to write a silly party confession fic ! hope you enjoy, i did NOT mean for this to become this long lmao. he's literally so boyfriend why can't he be real

likes/reblogs/feedback is always appreciated <3

“I want him so bad I’m gonna pass out,” she confesses, throwing herself onto your body and sighing longingly. “Do you think he thinks of me often?”

“Now I really feel like we’re in high school again, ‘chaco. I think you should talk to him about your love life instead of me. Maybe he’ll get the hint, that way.” 

“Hypocrite.” She scowls at you over the rim of her plastic cup, downing another serving of punch with questionable amounts of alcohol. “I had to hear about your infatuation all the time.” 

You stick your tongue out defiantly. “It wasn’t an infatuation. It was just a crush, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, a crush that lasted three whole years,” she hiccups, crossing her legs next to you on the couch and leaning her head on your shoulder. “Do you think about him often? Remember, no lies.” Your eyes immediately gravitate to who she’s talking about, supervising some drinking game at the wet bar that has Kaminari’s eyes watering and Shoto’s face bright red. Deku tries in vain to stop Bakugo from downing shot after shot, ultimately accepting a mystery concoction handed to him by Sero. He immediately spits it out all over Bakugo and both of them are so intoxicated they can’t aim hits at each other correctly. You laugh under your breath and quickly dart your eyes away when Kirishima looks over his shoulder in your direction. Ochaco nods knowingly, giving your thigh a squeeze that startles you. “Oh, you definitely do.” 

Before you can respond, Mina throws the front door of Sero’s house open followed closely by Jiro and Momo. Overflowing grocery bags of junk food line her arms and she kicks the door shut behind her as her hands are both holding a bottle of soju each. Cheers echo through the house at her arrival and she bows dramatically. 

“Looks like the party’s finally here,” Ochaco winks at you before joining Tsu to help Mina unload the groceries. You shake your head as your chest feels the familiar lightness that always came when your entire class was happy and having fun. It was Mina’s idea to have a reunion party, after all, and you knew everyone was looking forward to it. It was scheduled months ago because everyone’s calendars needed to line up and from the looks of it, all of you needed the break. With the press kept back by several thousands of volts of electricity running through the perimeter gate of Sero’s house, you and your friends could finally relax.

Or, so you thought. 

“Okay, party people! Now that we’re all slightly fucked up, it’s time for some games! First game is 7 Minutes in Heaven!”

“As if this hasn’t been 45 minutes of Hell already,” Shinso deadpans from a neighboring armchair, but even you could tell he was enjoying himself by the slight quirk in the corner of his mouth. 

Mina sends a joking glare at him, chucking a balled-up napkin at him. “Get in the fucking circle, Hitoshi.” 

You slide down from the couch onto the floor and feel a muscular bicep press against your arm. “You mind if I sit here?” When you turn to that all-too-familiar voice, you’re blinded by a bright shark-toothed grin and glittering crimson eyes. You smile and nod in assent, eyes widening when you look away to stop your heart from racing. You catch Ochaco’s gaze and she smirks mischievously, to which you loudly suggest the seat next to her when Deku is trying to find a spot in the circle. You wink at her and crack open another can of some fruity mixed drink. 

“So!” Mina begins as Jiro positions an empty glass bottle on the coffee table in the middle of the circle. “Do we all know the rules of 7 Minutes in Heaven–”

“Why the fuck are we using a bottle?” Bakugo’s rough voice cuts through the polite silence and Mina rolls her eyes. “Isn’t that a different fucking game?” 

“It’s only there to ensure no bias in the participants of the game, Bakugo,” Shoto boredly drawls. His face is blank when his eyes meet Bakugo’s. “If we wanted, we could spin your dense head–”

“You wanna go, Ice Pack?”

“Let’s allow Mina to finish speaking!” Ever the diplomat, Momo shakes her head impatiently while she effectively halts the two Pros’ piss match. You feel Kirishima’s sigh of relief that he didn’t have to restrain anyone and bite your lip to suppress a chuckle. 

“As I was saying,” she continues as she delicately dances around the circle. “The bottle will be spun two times. If it lands between two people on the first go-around, those people have to go in. But normally, whoever the bottle points at gets locked in the closet with the other person who’s pointed at for seven minutes. What you two do for those seven minutes…” A suggestive glint flashes across Mina’s dark eyes and she shrugs carefreely. “That’s none of our business.”

An awkward silence settles over the group as Mina continues to stand but seems to be expecting someone else to speak. She clears her throat and Denki suddenly perks up with something to say. “Wait, is this when I do the thing?” Your eyebrows dip in confusion, as do most of your other classmates except for Mina and Sero. 

“Yes, Denki. This is when you do the thing, so go get it.” Sero pinches the bridge of his nose as Denki shoots upward, running down the hallway to grab something from the storage closet. When he returns, he triumphantly holds a cardboard box labeled “HEART RATE MONITOR x2.”

Deku groans, covering his face as Mina beams. “Oh, no…”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did you steal that from some fuckin’ pharmacy?” Bakugo and Shoto both appear horrified. 

“What? No! I got it from my neighbor’s garage sale.”

“That’s even worse!”

Sounds of protest erupt from your classmates and you can’t help giggling at their reluctance to have their heart rate tracked. From your time in high school and into your professional career, you knew you never got picked during these games. You were resting easy knowing you never had to kiss one of your friends because of some stupid bottle. Especially with the positioning of Kirishima right next to you, the odds of you two needing to go into the closet together were slim to none. Tonight, you knew, would be no different than the past as you vaguely listened to Denki explain the use of the heart rate monitor. 

“Basically, we’re gonna call out if you’re making the other person’s pulse jump. It’s like that one part of that couples show we caught Iida watching during our second year,” Mina summarizes and Iida’s stoic voice pipes up in defense of his “research” on how best to acquire a lover while the circle snickers at the memory. Tokoyami’s hand reaches up to pat his shoulder sympathetically. 

“Alright, spin the fuckin’ bottle already! I’m literally aging over here.” Kirishima snorts next to you, hiding a choked laugh with a cough into his sleeve and you jokingly pat his back in concern. You’re too preoccupied with looking at him to notice the gasps and noises of shock as the bottle finishes its rotation around the circle. Confused at the excited expressions of your friends, you look down to see who the bottle pointed at. 

It was between you and Kirishima. 

You had to play 7 Minutes in Heaven with the boy you had a crush on for the entirety of high school. 

Your mind blacked out, face feeling like it was on fire as you both were hooked up to one heart monitor each. You didn’t dare glance at Kirishima because, for all you knew, he was irritated about being picked for these types of games since it wasn’t manly. Ochaco waggled her eyebrows at you and you felt slightly nauseous as she hooked up the machine to your pulse, guiding the wires under the door. “We’ll see you in seven minutes,” Mina crooned. “Have fun!” 

The door locked and you were in complete darkness with him. It was suffocatingly quiet, so silent that breathing felt like a trumpeting elephant. Hushed whispers come from the other side of the door as your classmates analyze your pulse. 

Jesus, his heart is racing. Like, dangerously fast!

So is theirs. Doesn’t sound like they’re doing anything in there, though.

You think he’ll actually make a move tonight?

Dude, shut the fuck up. They can probably hear us through the door. 

You swallow and wince when the noise is audible in the isolated quiet of the closet. 

“So, uh–”

“I, um–” 

You both start to speak and cut off just as abruptly, apologizing profusely and insisting the other go first. He takes a deep breath before he speaks again. 

“Look, honestly, I’m not really…into these types of games,” he starts, breath ragged but you couldn’t imagine why. “I don’t really know how to explain it, I just…”

“I know. It’s okay. Not manly to make out or do God knows what with someone you’re not dating, right?” Your laugh is shaky and you mentally kick yourself for feeling so jittery. 

“Yeah,” he exhales, relieved that you’re not going to expect him to do something he was uncomfortable with. You know damn well he would never make you do something you were uncomfortable with. It’s quiet again for a few moments before he clears his throat and continues. “But… I feel bad just making you sit here in awkward silence so…do you wanna play truth or dare instead?” 

Oh, shit, their heart rate finally spiked! 

Why’s it say that his breathing is super shallow? 

You’re reading something wrong because that’s definitely not what this measures. 

“Sure.” You hear him shift around in his seat on the floor and you lean against the wall, pulling your legs close. “Wanna go first?” 

“Yeah. Alright, uh…well, truth or dare?” 

You choose the safe option, always. “Truth.” You had no idea what he would possibly ask you, but you knew it was probably going to be harmless. 

“What’s your type?” Your blood runs cold in your veins and you pray that your heartbeat isn’t as loud in reality as it is in your ears. He must mistake your silence for confusion. “Like…in a guy.” 

“Um…” Your voice trails off, mind running at a million miles an hour to bury your secret. “Someone nice, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgement, waiting for you to explain further. “I’d like him to be supportive of me and my career. Good with my friends, that’s a given. Uh…yeah. Just not a scumbag.” You laugh to relieve some of the tension in your chest and feel a little lighter when you hear him chuckle too. “I don’t really care about body type or looks; I just want him to be a good person who will treat me right. In my dreams, I’d like him to treat me like I’m royalty, adore me and whatever. That’s hard to come by these days, though.” 

Fuck, his pulse is racing! 

What could they be doing in there so quietly that’s making him so nervous? 

Shall we alert medical personnel? 

No, Iida. You can see their hearts are still beating right here. 

“Alright, well. I hope you find the man of your dreams then. He sounds great.” In the darkness, you could have sworn he sounded almost…disappointed? “Okay, your turn. Ask me.”

“Hmm, okay. Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

The question slips out before you can stop it. You blame the liquid courage and the mystery drink Ochaco made for you. “What’s your type?” 

Wow, that’s a huge spike for him. 

It looks like their heart rate has leveled out; does that mean they’re not nervous anymore? 

Maybe, or maybe they’re used to the energy now. He’s still a stuttering mess in there, I bet. 

“Uh, someone familiar, if that makes sense. Like, you know, hero stuff can get really exhausting. I think my type is just someone who I can come home to and who’ll love me even through the good and the bad. Someone to help me fight battles, physical and mental, you know?” You nod and realize he can’t see it, so you settle for humming in agreement. Your brain feels fuzzy and it takes a considerable amount of effort to focus on the smooth tone of his voice. 

“Do you remember the first battle we fought together?” 

“Of course I do.” You can hear the fond smile in his voice. “I volunteered to partner with you because I thought you were cool.” 

“You didn’t know anything about me yet.”

“Didn’t matter. It just felt right to be with you.” 

Huge spike for both of them! 

Seems like he’s having a whole rollercoaster of emotions in there. 

Your heart stops again and you wish there was light so you could read his expression, whether he meant it platonically or something more. “Okay, my turn. Would you ever date anyone outside? Like from our friend group?”

He’s silent for a long time and you worry he didn’t hear you correctly before he gives a definitive, “No.” Impulse takes hold of your mind. 

“Why not?” 

“I’m just not interested in any of them.” 

“But you are interested in someone?” The second question falls from your lips naturally and you don’t expect him to answer it considering that it wasn’t part of the game. 

His pulse is slowly increasing again. He must be getting nervous. 

“Yeah, I am.” Your heart drops into your stomach. Of course he was interested in someone, and they were probably interested back, but the likelihood of it being you was in your wildest dreams. 

“Hmm, okay. Your turn.” 

“Are you interested in anyone in our friend group?” 

Your voice chokes in your throat. “Y-Yeah.” Sweat beads on your burning face and for the first time, you’re grateful for the lack of light so he can’t see how much you’re panicking. 

“Are they outside right now?”

“It’s my turn to ask, Kiri.”

“You got an extra one on me, if you think I didn’t notice.” His voice is dangerously low, more serious than you’ve heard him in a long time. “So. Is the person you’re interested in outside right now?” 

Both their pulses are racing again. 

They must be talking about something because this doesn’t happen if you’re just kissing the entire time. 

Oh, because you have lots of experience kissing and getting people’s heart rates up?

Ask your mom about my experience with kissing–

You asshole– 

Shut the hell up! I’m trying to eavesdrop! 

You steady your resolve, inhaling and exhaling deeply before answering the expectant darkness. “No, they’re not out there right now.” You can hear the confusion cross his face as he calculates who in your friend group was absent. 

“Who are you–”

“He’s in here with me.” The smallest oh escapes his lips and you pray for the time to go faster, body burning in shame. “Sorry, this is a really weird way of telling you, but…”

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your brain short-circuits. 

“Huh?” You question dumbly. 

“I wanna kiss you. Please.” 

“You don’t have to, Kiri, really. You don’t have to play the rules of the game if–”

“This isn’t about the game anymore. I wanna kiss you, game or no game.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I like you.” He huffs and you hear him run a hand through his hair in the darkness. He only did that when he was nervous. You were making him nervous. “You’re the only one I’m interested in, the only one I’ve been interested in since high school.” 

What the fuck? 

Denki, your fucking machine broke! 

We lost their pulses! 

Did those idiots break the heart rate monitor? 

I think you broke the heart monitor, stupid.

You’re speechless and, tired of words, you crawl toward his voice in the darkness. It seems that he had the same idea as he receives you eagerly. His calloused hands pull you into his lap until you’re on top of him, fiddling with the hair at the back of his neck. His breath is hot on your neck as you wait there for something to happen and you sigh into his mouth when it finally finds yours. The first kiss is gentle and sweet, careful not to scare you away. But after you catch your breath and pull him closer by his jacket collar, his fingers firmly press into your hips, running over the eaves of your body. Your breath comes short and fast and you needily pull him closer as he confidently meets your wordless demands. He pulls away for a moment, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. 

“Kiri…”

“Eijiro.”

“Eiji, please.” 

“Hold on. It’s been seven minutes. And, for the record, I want to date you.”

You’re barely able to supply your agreement before a loud banging on the closet door startles you. 

Alright, lovebirds, that’s time! Opening up the door in three…two…what? 

Before they can open the door, you catch the telltale sound of Eijiro hardening his arm and a spark of light as he slams his fist down on the door handle, locking you in but also locking everyone else out. 

Oh, shit! He actually did it! 

This was his entire fucking plan? 

You better pay for my door when you inevitably break it open! 

Let them be; it’s been a long time coming. 

“Now, where were we?” You laugh in disbelief at the smug grin in his voice as he gently bites the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet, hands roaming increasingly lower on your body. 

“Eijiro, they’re gonna get anxious that we died or something,” you make to leave his lap and open the door, but his arms catch you before you stand. 

“I’ve waited years for you. They can wait a few more minutes.” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[julieee404]

Kinktober day six!!

"You're a what now?"

❥ Prostitution, Public, Orgasm Denial ❥ Theodore Nott

POV: You were a prostitute, though it wasn't something you really told anyone. Theo is your brother's best friend, one night he ordered a prostitute, and you got into his car. To the surprise of both of you.

Trigger warnings: Prostitution, swear words, P in V

I had just left my house, feeling confident. I have a booking for 3 hours tonight, which will give me a lot of money. I was wearing my green set which matched my eyes. Pansy gave it to me for my birthday last year.

She is one of the only ones who knows I'm a prostitute. My brother Mattheo can't know, whatever happens, he can't know. He'd either kill me or lock me up in our house.

I walked towards a black jeep, knocking on the passenger door. My client and the person inside the car rolled the window down and unlocked the door for me to get in. I got into the car and put on my seatbelt.

While I was doing that I heard a familiar voice "Little riddle? what the fuck?" My head snapped around quickly as soon as I heard that "Theo?"

He looked at me confused "What are you doing he-" he cut himself off after looking at my outfit and realisation dawned on him. "No, no no no you're not" He said voice full of disbelief and also some slight anger.

"What the fuck are you for real? you're a prostitute?" He said harshly. I looked at him "Stop being so rude to me Theo, yes okay yes I am"

I held his gaze silently daring him to say something against it. I sighed and shook my head "I'll go" I said and tried to open the door only to find it locked.

"I wonder what your brother would find of this" My head snapped back around "No no no Theo no, you can't tell him" I said beggingly making him smirk "Please Theo I'll do anything."

He smirked 'Anything you say?" he asked in a way that meant absolutely no good. I just nodded in response.

"You're going to stop being a prostitute and become mine, I'll pay you for every time, but you will not be giving all of those fucks your body," He said possesively. I looked at him in disbelief. "What no?"

He smirked "In that case I think I'll give your dear brother a call" my expression fell which made his smirk widen "Fine" I said defeated.

Theo drove off to a bit more private place before parking the car, getting out and helping me out of the car. He sat me down in the trunk of the jeep, his crouch at the same height as mine.

He pushed my dress up so it was around my middle and pulled the top of my dress down so my boobs spilt out. Theo licked his lips and pulled my bra off of my boobs before sucking on my nipples.

I let out a soft gasp not having expected him to do that. He gently bit my nipple and pulled making me yelp in surprise, he let go and moved his hand between my legs rubbing my clit.

He growled as I tried to close my legs and pushed them open harshly "Don't you dare deprive me of what's mine" He said with a glare. Theo kept rubbing my clit driving me closer and closer to my orgasm.

"Fuck Theo I'm gonna come" I clenched around his fingers before he pulled them out right as I was gonna finish making my orgasm fall away immediately.

I let out a pathetic whine at the loss of pleasure. "The first time you come is around my fucking cock understand me cara mía?" He said in a low voice, which made shivers go through my entire body.

Nodding quickly, staring at his hands as he took his belt off and pulled his dick out of his boxers. Theo lined up with my entrance, gave me a wicked grin and slammed home making me scream

He gave me no time to adjust and set a punishing pace. Hitting my G-spot every single time. Soon enough another orgasm was approaching me which made me clench around Theo even more.

"You're gonna cum on my cock? Are you gonna cum on my cock while we're out in public where everyone can see?' Theo asked growling it in my ear between each thrust.

His words made my walls flutter "Oh you like that don't you?, Come for me"

I lost it, crashing over the edge harshly. I let out a scream and bit his shoulder to stifle it. Theo followed quickly coming inside of me while burying his head in my hair to keep quiet.

"You're mine cara mía and I'm not letting you go," He said once both of us got down from the high.

He brought me back home and gave me the money he owed me "I don't need the money Theo" I said softly earning myself a glare "Take it"

I hesitantly took the money and opened the car door. "I'll text you soon" Theo said with a smile, I nodded and left the car. Just before I slammed the door shut, I swore I heard a soft 'I love you'

Kinktober masterlist 2024

[sunlightmurdock]

hurt/comfort drabble with firefighter!bradley and neighbour!reader involving his EMT knowledge

this strayed from the prompt a bit, but I give you: the time you dislocated your shoulder in the shower !!

So Bradley’s just chilling at home, probably sitting on the couch in his underwear, probably watching reality TV that he will vehemently deny enjoying. And then he gets a call from you. He answers it with a mouth full of popcorn, expecting it to be you asking him to hang out again. Nothing out of the ordinary.

And then he hears the laboured breathing and running water on the other end of the line.

Then, comes your voice. “I need to ask you for a favour and you need to never tell anyone about this, ever. Okay?”

So, he’s walking into your apartment in shorts and a hoodie and snapping the lock on your bathroom door, which he already knows you’ll call him for help replacing.

“Don’t you dare look!” You yell at him from behind the curtain.

“I feel like grabbing blind is probably a worse idea than just letting me get you. What happened?” Bradley walks gingerly towards the curtain, brows furrowed together.

“I slipped.”

“Is something broken? — Can you warn me before I get jump scared with an ankle facing the wrong way or something?” Bradley complains, reaching around the curtain to turn the water off without looking. For the first time in twenty minutes, you’re not almost waterboarding yourself.

He looks around him and finds your towel. “Here, put this over you and I’ll pick you up.”

“I was hoping you’d be able to tell me if something’s broken.” You tell him, reaching around the curtain to take the towel and cover your naked body with it. You’re hoping to wake up from this disgustingly embarrassing dream any minute now and be back in the real world where you aren’t naked and injured in front of your stupidly hot neighbour. “My arm really hurts.”

He curses under his breath and leans his head back. Something in his gut already tells him that this is going to be above his fucking pay-grade. Why couldn’t you have just grazed your knee and let him put a cute little bandaid on you, or something?

“Alright. I’m gonna pull the curtain back now.”

“Okay.”

You close your eyes as the curtain drags along the rod, pulled back and exposing you to him. Huddled awkwardly at the bottom of your shower, your phone in your hand just out of the pray of the water.

“Oh, shit.”

Your eyes fly open, widening up at him — more importantly, the look on his face. He’s grimacing right at you.

“Is it bad?”

“It’s not broken,” He says gingerly. “Actually I’m not supposed to say that. It might be. It doesn’t look broken.”

You swallow, a shiver starting to set in now that you’re cold, wet and stuck against the floor. “What does it look like?”

“I’m not supposed to diagnose in the field.” He mumbles, still grimacing at your fucked up shoulder. He leans down and tucks his arms under your back and your knees, “C’mere.”

You gasp and wince as your afflicted shoulder presses into his chest. He becomes more confident in what he thinks you’ve done.

“Bradley, I’m not going to write to your boss. Just — what is it?”

“Can you, like, move it?” He asks as he carries you from the bathroom and into your bedroom. You know that saying no isn’t the right answer, but that if you say yes, he’ll ask you to prove it.

“No.”

“At all? Like, not even if you kinda tried?”

“You’re freaking me out.”

He sets you at the end of your bed softly, then turns away from you immediately to search through your closet. “Do you have anything without arms? — Like a poncho?”

“Wh— what? — Why? — Bradley, come on, you know first aid. Just, like, fix it.” You plead with him, using your good arm to keep your towel around you. He scoffs and continues to dig through your closet.

“I’m not popping your shoulder back into the socket. That is not the kind of thing that I’m supposed to do.” He finds a pair of comfortable shorts and tosses them in your direction and then continues searching again.

Your eyes widen. “It’s dislocated? — Fuck. Wait, no, I don’t want to go to the hospital. You used to play football, can’t you just like, try to fix it?”

“Absolutely the fuck not.” He almost shudders at the idea. “We’re gonna do this the right way for you, alright? — Make sure it actually heals right.”

He finds one of his shirts on your floor and tosses it in your direction. He leaves them here sometimes if he gets hot hanging out. It’s hard to argue with him when he phrases things like that.

“Bradley, stop throwing clothes at me. I can’t…”

He turns towards you again, pursing his lips. In that moment, you’re adamant of two things: he is not seeing you naked, and he is not taking you to the hospital. An hour later, you’re sitting in the emergency room in a mismatched outfit with both of those resolutions completely betrayed.

“You’re being really brave, honey,” Bradley smooths his fingers over your scalp softly as you rest your head against his annoyingly perfectly healthy, uninjured shoulder. “We won’t have to wait much longer.”

“You have to take this to your grave, Bradshaw. If you tell anyone about this—“

“Your secret’s safe with me,” He decides amusedly, resting his cheek against the top of your head. “But, uh… was that that a tattoo that I —“

“Shut up.”

[itsohh]

The Enemy Bites

A/N: Female reader, vampire AU, with the baseline lore sorted here's uh a piece with actual relationship lmao anyway.

Summary: A mission lands you in a rough spot, in the arms of the enemy specifically. Held at gunpoint you have little options as Gaz and Price are forced to watch as your humanity is slowly drained.

Word count: 2791

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, slight angst

Part 1 AO3 Masterlist

Everyone remained completely frozen. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. You had been working as their handler for close to a year now, most of the time looking after Ghost or Soap. This had been your first real time looking after Price and Gaz in person.

Now caught by the throat, you couldn't feel a little guilty, you were supposed to look after them. Not the other way around. Gaz stood next to Price a few meters aways from you. They didn't dare to make a sudden move.

Price had his hands up, his gun hung off his shoulder to the side while Gaz's was settled on the floor in front of them. Both of them had rather pissed off expressions. With soldiers all around the room, all of you were outnumbered. Perhaps that would have mattered if they were human.

The only thing that stopped the two Brits from moving was the two men behind you. "The famous Captain Price. Should have figured such a renowned soldier was one of us." The man behind you mocked with a laugh. His fingers around your throat flexed a little and your eyes flashed to the man next to him who had a gun pointed at your head.

"But your not one of us are you? Any other true vampire never would have stopped fighting for this thing. A piece of cattle." He hissed and your eyes shut for a second when he squeezed just a little.

"Your men here are human." He gestured to the soldiers around the room.

"Not if they prove themselves. The gift of immortality would be bestowed upon them if worthy."

"Jesus Christ, dealt with a lot of your type in the past. None lived to tell the tale." John seemed tired, sick of dealing with him. "We've long since moved past this thinking."

"Yes and what a travesty it was. To live to these humans rules. Pathetic, they are below us. We should be ruling them. Your weakness for this particular one, disgusts me."

"Humans are a lot stronger than you think, look what happened to the council."

"Your European council was weak! Undeserving. Perhaps you have forgotten what it means to be one of us."

"Amun…" Prices voice trailed off and his eyes locked onto yours for a moment.

"You are not worthy of saying my name!" You gasped when he squeezed tight for a second and Gaz flinched towards you.

"Don't touch her!" Fury in his eyes, he was stopped by Price.

Amun barked out a laugh but his grip loosened. "Weakborn you have there Price. A runt. You dare tell me what to do? For a human? There's only one thing humans are good for. Let me remind you." He pulled your neck to the side and there was a tiny second before a sharp pain periced into the join of your neck.

"No!" Gaz went to charged again but was stopped by Prices grip and the cold metal that pressed against your head. The barrel of a gun. Amun laughed into the side of your neck and you could feel a thick line of blood start to run down your shoulder. It was caught by his tongue and he pressed his lips over the wound.

Then he started to suck. Blood rushed in your ears while he held onto you rather tightly. Price and Gaz could only watch as slowly Amun started to drain you. You knew you had to do something, but with the gun pressed against your head, you couldn't deal with that and Amun.

"Price." Your managed to get out.

"It's gonna be alright Agent." He went straight to reassuring you and Amun ripped his lips from your body to let out a laugh.

"Oh I had plans to drain your little play thing dry but, my goodness. It been a while since I tasted something as sweet as you. No, this one I think I'll keep."

"Leave them alone." Gaz growled and you could see that resolve of his slip.

"Gaz." Price's hand around Gaz's wrist tightened as the sight of the guns safety being removed. Amun resumed his meal out of you and practically hummed into the taste.

You needed to do something. The silver dagger up your sleeve was painfully iching to be used but you needed to change up the position here. Perhaps you could use Amun as a shield and you needed to stop him from feeding on you. The longer he did, the worse your body would be off. Even if he did plan on keeping you alive.

You let out a small little whimper and let your body go lip, faking a collapse. Amul was quick to catch your body a laugh as your now shut eyes. "Such little blood taken. Perhaps I was a little faster than I had thought. Or perhaps you do not practice what you preach Captain Price." He held your body and looked up to mock. "If I inspect her will I find a couple of holes that I didn't make? Or perhaps it was your Sergent here. So protective over such a delectable taste, now that I understand."

With everyone's eyes on Price and Gaz, you used your opportunity. Your fingers pulled a small strap and the knife slid down into your hand. One sudden movment had you dragging him to the ground and the knife into his chest. Being so close, it was easy to shove through the gap in his ribs directly to his heart.

Gaz and Price moved as one. Gaz snapped to the floor for his weapon and Price snatched his gun from beside him. Gunfire filled the room and you used Amun's corpse as a shield while the two men took out the rest of the room.

Eventually it went silent and the corpse was pulled from you. Price held out his hand while Gaz shoved away the body in disgust. "Risky move there Agent."

"You disapprove?"

"You used his underestimation against him and it worked. Strategicly it worked."

"But?"

"Could have backfired. Glad that it didn't." She smiled and helped you to your feet. You wiped the knife on your pants and tucked it back in your sleeve.

"Didn't know you had one of those." Gaz spoke up and you let out a hum.

"That is the idea of a secret hidden blade Sergent." You looked up and gave him a wink while you hummed. "Laswell made sure I was prepaired to get myself out of any situation-" Your voice hitched and you wobbled a bit. This time you instability was genuine and Gaz was quick to catch you.

Your hands landed on his arms while he held you up. "Captain she's still bleeding."

"Set her down for a moment. I'll patch her up then we need to go." Gaz carefully set you onto the ground and Price went for the small med-kit that was on his side. Gaz seetled next to you like Price exaimined the wound, but he also kept an eye out for any enemies.

"It's small but deep, he was experienced enough not to go for an artery. The veins busted from the looks of it but you should be fine." Price wiped it with disinfectant which caused a hiss to form on your lips and you squeezed Gaz's hand. Price was gentle in his movements, carefully raising your arms so he could secure a bandage.

"How are you feeling?" Price made eye contact with you.

"Certainly had worse. Weak though."

"Let's get you back to base. Gaz." Prices eyes made contact with his and Gaz started to pull you up.

"Can you stand?" He asked and you let out a small sound.

"Feel a bit lightheaded but yeah." You braced your self on his and this brows narrowed for a second.

"Here let me carry you, it will be easier." You nodded and he bent down. Gaz picked you up without effort and you held on around his neck. "Comfortable?"

"Didn't know you were that strong Sergeant."

"Could carry you easily even when I was human." He gave you a light smile and you rest you head against his chest. "I got you."

-

Back at base, Price directed Gaz to medical while Price informed you he needed to give Laswell a call. The nurse had paused when she saw the pair of you and Gaz explained you had lost blood. She didn't ask too many questions but checked your levels and hooked you up to an IV.

"Just to get fluids in you, you didn't lose too much. Only a few pints, your body will take care of it." She explained as you settled into the hospital bed. With a smile she left the room. With complete privacy, it was only you and Gaz.

"Thanks for helping me out Gaz. Can't have been easy carrying me all thay way."

"Ah it's no biggie. Our muscles don't work the same that your does. Sure there's the added strength but you know how when you carry something for a really long time and you start to ache even though it's not that heavy?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't get that. Trust me it was fine, I'm just happy your alright."

"Mm sure Price would be a pain getting a new handler." You laughed.

"Of course, they wouldn't be you. Think we all warmed to you."

"Aww Garrick, thanks it means a lot." You stretched a little bit paused when you tugged on the IV. "If it means anything, I've warmed to you too." You blinked and Gaz gave you a rather kind smile. "Come sit with me." You shuffled to the side of the bed and his brows raised.

"You sure? Don't think the nurse would be too happy with that."

"Ah, what is she gonna do? Kick me out? Come here." You patted the bed and a moment later he followed you instructions and climbed on. Gaz took up more space than you expected and the pair of you were soon shoulder to shoulder. He shuffled a bit and wrapped his arm around you.

"Smaller bed than I thought."

"I can get off if you changed your mind."

"Nah, your good. Your warm." You pressed your face into the side of his chest at the realisation and you felt him let out a breath. “Like really warm, I thought you lot were supposed to be cold.”

“Think Price said our bodies were like incubators?” He didn’t sound to sure on the fact himself.

“What?”

“Yeah so if you put something cold in us it stay colds but if you put something warm in it stays warm?”

“Your housing insulation? Gaz that's hilarious.” You laughed into him before you let out a little yawn. Your laugher continued and he let out his own little laugh.

“Hey, rest up.” He looked down at you. “You look pretty tired.”

“Thats what happens when you become someones afternoon snack.” You shuffled slightly to get more comfortable and shut your eyes. Ever so slowly, sleep took you.

-

When you awoke once more, the room was rather dark and a light emitted from the hallway. Your position had changed a little and you had cuddled into his chest. Despite the sleep that remained in your casually waking form, you could feel that your body was far more awake. The IV had been removed from your am and you were left with a little plaster. Your bandage around your shoulder had been replaced and now only had a plaster in its place.

With a little groan, you rolled your head around and Gaz move a little next to you. "Hey welcome back to the land of the living." You were a little stunned to hear his voice.

"You're awake?"

"Yeah, been uh keeping an eye on everything." He looked away and you could have sworn he sounded a little embarrassed.

"Protecting me in my sleep? My hero." You teased with a smile and his eyes returned to yours with a roll. His lips were curved upwards and you gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "I appreciate it, Garrick. With everything thats happened it's nice to know you have my back. Even if it's me who's supposed to have yours."

"I mean we're a team right?"

"But-"

"Team, we got each other. Speaking of they did some blood tests while you were out. Doc recon's your levels should be back to normal, honestly dunno why they have discharged you yet."

"Maybe it's because there was a big scary vampire watching over my shoulder." You gave him a wink at your tease. He huffed and pretended to be tired of the situation but you could see the smile he couldn't hold back. "Speaking of, when was the last time you had something to drink?"

"Price sorted me out earlier don't worry." He gestured to an empty to go coffee cup on the side table behind him.

"Price saw us like this?"

"Yeah, you were all cuddled up like I was your teddy bear. Pretty cute not going to lie." It was his turn to tease you and you let out a groan.

"So much for professional image."

"Ah come on Agent, no one's had that overly professional vibe since you caught Soap with his pants down."

"Why you were playing strip poker at 3am goes beyond me."

"We-"

"Gaz I don't wanna know. In fact I'd be happy if we never brought that up ever again."

"Ah your just pissed cause you weren't invited. Don't worry you can get in on the action next time."

"Next time? There better not be a next time."

"Come on, you got to give it a go. It's fun."

"Glaz if you wanted to see me strip you can just ask."

He practically choked on his own breath, what was meant to be a tease had a far stronger reaction then you had expected. He looked away and at that moment you realised the effect you had on the man. Slowly your fingers reached up to his jaw and he slowed when you made contact.

"Kyle." You whispered his name and he turned to face you, so incredibly close. Your hand caressed his face and your thumb slowly ran across his bottom lip. Gaz's eyes locked with yours and you felt the most subtle gentle kiss against your thumb, testing the waters.

"My lips are down here Garrick."

He didn't need to be told twice. Immediately his warm lips were pressed down against yours. Like a ruptured dam, he didn't cold back. Lost in in your lips, he moved to the side and mounted on top of you. His arms braced next to your head while yours wrapped around his neck and pulled him against you.

Gaz everytislly pulled back a little, his forehead pressed against your while out panted slightly. "I'll admit I've been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you." He wet the bottom of his lips and beamed at you.

"Yeah? Then why'd you stop?" That sentence was all it took for his lips to be pressed against yours.

Time seemed to pauce around you and you were lost in your little world until a knock on the wall snapped the pair of you out of it. Gaz rolled off you to the side and your eyes went wide when they locked on to Laswell's.

"Mind if I have a moment Kyle?" He looked a little sheepish as he nodded and climbed off the bed.

"Uh, go for it." He gave you one last giddly smile and left the room.

"So you and Sergent then?" She looked over her shoulder for a moment and you let out a small cough.

"Uh, recent development."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with your duties." Her voice trailed off and you nodded.

"Of course." She sat down the side of the bed with a folder in her hands.

"This is the lab results."

"For what?"

"Even though there was no intention, there's always the slightest possibility that theres a slow acting venom inside of you. Either to kill or change you."

"Gaz said they did some test, I presume that's what you were testing for?"

"Yes, they came back negative but I must stress the importance of being careful in the future."

"I'll try not to get bitten by the enemy ma'am."

"Just as bad as those boys." She tsked. "Never the less, I'm glad to see your alright."

"You didn't have to come all the way down here. I'm fine."

"Just because you can handle your own doesn't change the fact your my responsibility."

"Laswell, I'm okay."

"Let's keep it that way Agent."

"Yes ma'am."

[jgmartin]

HOUSE OF THE HOLY

It’s a scary thing, being apart from yourself— being a tool. Have you ever been possessed? I’m guessing not. Most haven’t. And they can thank their lucky stars for that. 

I have though. 

I’ve felt the suffocating grip of something closing around my mind, squeezing it until every last ounce of me was gone. I've felt the horror of knowing I'm not alone. The horror of knowing I might never be alone again.

Three days after I turned six, my life turned into confetti. It tore itself into little pieces, each less recognizable than the last. That night, my foster parents locked me in the attic. They told me that a monster was coming to eat me— a werewolf. 

“We’ll let you out in an hour,” they laughed. “If there’s anything left to let out.”

It wasn’t real. Of course it wasn’t real. The whole thing was just a twisted power play, a means to scare me into obeying their overbearing rules. I was young, though. Naive. And the thing about being young and naive is sometimes you say and do things that you live to regret, and I’d done exactly that. 

I’d confided in them my greatest fear: men that turned into beasts. Werewolves. 

I gave them my vulnerability, openness. They gave me psychological warfare. 

Betrayal cuts deep, but the betrayal of a parent— the person meant to protect you when the whole world turns its back on you— that cuts deeper than skin. 

Those scars don’t fade. 

I spent my first minutes in the attic screaming and crying, beating my fist against the door. They answered this with a volley of threats, beginning and ending with three hours standing in the corner, balanced on my tippy-toes, if I so much as dared to open that hatch.

“You deserve this,” Papa Joey told me. “You knew damn well to keep your eyes closed during that Sunday prayer, but you opened em’ anyway. You embarrassed us. Humiliated us, not just in front of the church, but Father Andrews too. People are gonna think we don’t know how to raise a child, or that we can’t keep a little boy in line. You think that’s funny? You think that’s fair to us?”

“Shame on you,” Mama Sharon said. 

They weren’t lying— at least, not about me opening my eyes. I was a distractible child. Later, I’d be diagnosed with attention deficit disorder, so what was I supposed to do? That didn’t matter to them, though. 

In their eyes, not only had I disrespected the law of the house, I’d disrespected the law of the Lord. That made punishing me easy. Necessary. It made punishing me an act of God. 

“Do I really have to stay up here a whole hour?” I whimpered, gazing warily across the sea of darkness. The light in the attic hadn’t worked for as long as I’d lived there.

“That depends,” Mama Sharon replied. “If the werewolf gets you first, you might only be in there for ten or twenty minutes.”

“Who knows?” Papa Joey called as they left down the hallway. “You might just get lucky." 

They descended the steps, chuckling to themselves. 

The thought of opening the hatch and slipping out of there crossed my mind. It crossed my mind over and over again, as a matter of fact, but I knew it wouldn’t be worth it. As scared as I was, I’d lived with Mama and Papa for eight months by then, and I knew well what kind of punishment they were capable of doling out. 

For this, I’d be in the corner for certain. On my tippy toes. 

If they saw me resting my feet— even for a moment, they’d get out the wooden board with the nails in it. They’d slip that under my heels. I’d been there before. 

I never, ever wanted to be there again.

So I did my best to swallow my fear. I took a deep breath and braced myself against the nightmare of the attic. “I’m not afraid of you!” I said to the shadows. “I’m a monster too, you know!”

It was a lie. I was no more a monster than I was an astronaut, or a dinosaur. I was just a scrawny kid who missed his mom, sitting in an attic that seemed to press upon you from all sides. But it was all that I had. See, the only thing I knew capable of harming a werewolf was a silver bullet, and I was fresh out of those, so I went with the next best thing: convincing the werewolf I wasn’t prey. 

I began my punishment sitting near the hatch. It seemed the safest option, and vibrating with adrenaline and panic, safety was at the top of my mind. I waited silently, eyes closed, heart fluttering, listening for a growl or howl to meet my ears, for the sounds of my doom to rush out and greet me. But they never did. 

Once I’d made it ten minutes without being eaten, I started to calm down. Maybe there weren’t any monsters up there, after all. Maybe I was just afraid of the dark. If that was the case, then that was a problem I could solve. 

The broken lightswitch was far beyond my ability to repair, but I knew for a fact there were a couple of flashlights laying around here somewhere. I’d used them while helping Papa Joey put out mouse traps. Trouble was, there was enough junk in the attic to fill a small museum, so finding which teetering box those flashlights were in might take some time. 

Still, time was one of the few things not in short supply up there. 

Closing my eyes, I took a breath, steeling myself against the darkness ahead. Then I stepped off. Into the unknown.

My footsteps groaned as I crept through the attic. Much of my movement consisted of stumbling around blindly, holding my arms out like Frankenstein’s monster and praying I didn’t encounter anything with fur. A few steps into my journey I bumped into something. My heart jumped, but it was just an old table.

I felt its surface, figuring if there was a flashlight up here then it was probably somewhere on th—

Eight tiny legs skittered across my hand. I flailed, falling backward and knocking the spider off of my skin. Heart pounding, I sat there and caught my breath. 

“You’re kidding, Franky!” The television echoed from below the floorboards. “Keep that up, and you won’t just be outta a job— you’ll be out of a wife!” A laugh track kicked in, joined by Mama Sharon shrieking in amusement and clapping her hands. From the sounds of it, they were watching their favorite sitcom again. I’d never seen it since I wasn’t allowed to watch TV, but I always wondered if it was as funny as they made it seem.

“It’s not.”

I jumped, startled by the voice. “What?”

“You deaf, kid? I said it’s not. It ain’t that funny.”

My heart struck my ribcage like a hammer. No, no, no. This wasn’t happening. It’s just the dark, that’s all. There’s nothing to be afraid of in the dark because I’m all alone and there’s no such thing as monsters and it’s just the TV that I’m hearing and—

“You’re not alone, kid. And I ain’t Will or Grace, either.”

I scrambled backward, away from the voice as quickly as I could. Too quickly. My head found the downward slope of the attic’s roof and hit it with a crack. Pain exploded across my skull. “Stay back,” I groaned, my vision swimming. “If you don’t I’ll—”

“You’ll do nothing!” the voice sneered.

“I—I’m a werewolf,” I warned, my voice shaking with counterfeit authority. “Stay back. It’s a full moon tonight and—”

“Ain’t no full moon, and you ain’t no werewolf.”

Something thumped a short way from me, and my mouth went dry. Another thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. The floorboards trembled. My eyes swiveled to the thin square of light that outlined the attic hatch. It was rattling. Somebody was knocking on it from below. 

“You breaking things up there?” Poppa Joey shouted. “You better not be! Any more banging around and you can forget the werewolf. I’ll come up there and beat your ass myself!”

Even then, I could hear the voice whispering all around me, moving around the attic like an unholy breeze. “Please,” I said quietly, making myself small in the corner. “There’s something up here! I need you.”

“You think I’m stupid, boy?”

My mouth trembled, my entire body quaked. I recognized the tone in Papa Joey’s voice. 

“I asked you a fucking question, didn’t I?” he bellowed. “Answer me when I speak to you!”

“N-no sir,” I said, tears welling in my eyes. “I don’t think you’re stupid, Papa.”

“Then why are you lying to me?” Something struck the bottom of the hatch and made it jump violently— his fist. “You just earned yourself another half hour up there. Keep up this shitty behavior and I’ll show you some shitty behavior of my own. Understand?”

I whimpered.

“DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?”

“Yes sir!” I called, doing my best to keep the tears in my eyes. “Yes sir, I understand sir!”

“Good,” he muttered. His footsteps faded as he made his way back downstairs. 

“What’s he broken?” I heard my Mama ask at the bottom of the steps. 

“Nothing,” Papa said, raising his voice so I could hear. “If he doesn’t want me breaking something of his, it’ll stay that way. Lord knows I’ll start with the teeth. Ain’t nothing out of the ordinary about a young boy missing a tooth.”

Laughter rang out around the attic. “You’re not safe here,” the voice said, right beside me. “Not safe here at all.”

I recoiled, terrified, but careful not to make a sound.  The voice sounded low, raspy and inhuman. It sounded hungry. “Please,” I said. “Leave me alone. I wasn’t kidding about being a werewolf you know.”

“Do you want to be safe?” the voice hissed, slithering all around me like a cockroach on my skin. “I can make you safe. I can make all this pain go away. Doesn’t that sound… nice? Just say the word and poof, you’re home free, back with dear mommy.”

“What word?” I said, confused.

The voice tutted in my ears, as if it were on both sides of me at once. “Oh, don’t play coy. You know the word. The one you say kneeling beside your bed every night, praying to the big cheese in the sky.”

“Amen?” 

“Amen?” More laughter, this time sardonic, mocking. “Give me a fucking break, kiddo. I mean the other word, the one you whimper with tears in your eyes and fear in your heart— afraid Mama and Papa might hear you say it out loud.”

A terrible feeling was beginning to take hold in my gut. The voice sounded suddenly so much worse than a simple werewolf. It sounded sinister. Like it was manipulating me. Testing me. “I don’t have tears in my eyes when I pray,” I said defiantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The voice — whatever it was — stepped forward then, and the entire attic rattled against its weight. Dust drifted down from the rafters. Floorboards shuddered. 

It was loud.

Too loud. 

“The fuck did I just tell you, boy?” Papa Joey hollered from below. “So help me God, if I have to get up from this couch you’re gonna wish there really was a lock on that fucking hatch!” 

I slammed my eyes shut. “Go away,” I said quietly. “Please, whatever you are, just go away.”

“No.” 

It took another step forward, and the attic shook again. This time, the frame of the house trembled with it, rumbling as it braced itself against the monster inside. 

“I’m not playing around,” Papa growled from below, and this time his voice was different. Something had wormed its way inside of it. Something dangerous. Deadly. “One more time, boy. Try me one more time and I swear to you that it’ll be the last...”

“He’s mad,” I whimpered, clutching my hands to my ears. “He’s really mad and he’s gonna think it’s me. Please, you’ve got to stop. You’ve got to go!”

"I'm not going anywhere,” the voice whispered. “You're stuck with me."

My heart fell. My world was practically spinning, the situation had spiraled so far outside of my control and I knew that no matter what, once the television episode was over Papa Joey would come up here and show me just how angry he was. 

“What's this?” the voice asked, bemused. A sound met my ears; dull and low, like a cardboard box sliding off of a wooden table. 

My heart froze.

“Looks expensive.”

"No! Don't—"

My plea was cut short, interrupted by a symphony of shattered glass. A half-second later and another box tipped. Something tumbled out of it, obnoxious and heavy, rolling across the creaky floor like a bowling ball. 

"I'm going to make you believe," the voice hissed. "No matter what it takes."

I sat, paralyzed with fear, waiting to hear Papa shout my name and tell me that was the last straw. But I didn’t hear anything. I didn’t hear Papa yelling, or Mama either. I didn’t even hear the television. 

Something snapped from below. “... nothing in him this fucking belt won’t fix!”

Footsteps thundered up the stairs. 

“Why are you doing this?” I shrieked into the darkness. “Why are you making them hurt me?” Tears poured from my eyes as I trembled in the corner, taking deep, heaving breaths as I prepared myself for the discipline I was soon to receive. For the pain.

“I’m trying to teach you a lesson!” the voice cackled. “Now say the word, boyo! Say the word or you’ll beg for it later, beaten and bruised!”

“No!” I shouted, shaking my head furiously. Tears stained my cheeks. “I know what you are! I know what evil monsters like you do, but I’m a good kid and I pray every night so just leave me alone!”

A fist pounded against the underside of the hatch. Then it rattled, like somebody was pulling on the handle, trying to get it open, but it wouldn’t budge. “Get your hands off the hatch!” Papa Joey roared. 

“Say the word,” the voice hissed. 

I plugged my ears, curling into a ball. “No! Just me alone and go away.”

“Do it now, before he gets you! He sounds so angry!”

Mama’s voice joined the chaos below. “What’s he done now, Joey? Locked himself up there?”

The hatch rattled, and I heard Joey grunt. “What’s it look like, Sharon?”

“Well just leave him there, then! If he wants to stay up there with the werewolves he can stay there all weekend if he pleases.” 

"No he damn well can't, Sharon!" Papa shouted. "I've got valuable things in those boxes and the little shitstain's destroying them!" Joey heaved and the attic hatch squealed, sounding as though he were pulling against it with his entire weight.  

“Running out of time,” the voice said, up against my ear. “Tick tock. Say the word, or you’ll pay for this in blood. Who knows when he’ll stop beating you? Hopefully before you drop dead.”

I screamed then, lashing out and throwing out my fists helplessly into the dark, doing anything I could to stop the voice from talking. From tormenting me. “Stop it!” I shrieked. “Stop it!”

In all my life I’d never felt so helpless. So afraid. There wasn’t any escape here. Threats surrounded me. Below, my foster parents were beating down the attic door, while all around me a voice taunted and jeered, goading me to turn away from God, to make me admit I didn’t have the faith I claimed to. 

I just wanted them both to go away. Forever. 

I just wanted to go to my room and play with my action figures and read my story books. I just wanted to be a normal kid again, with a normal family. I wanted to feel safe. 

A sharp creak sounded, followed by a snap of wood. Light flooded the attic and I gazed in horror toward the now open hatch, feeling suddenly weak and helpless. Joey had broken the steps clean off of their hinges. 

“Obnoxious little shit,” Papa snarled, stomping up the stomps. 

“Don’t kill him, Joey,” Mama Sharon said casually. “Just smarten him up. He’s been nothing but disobedient since he got here last July.”

“Oh, I’ll smarten him up,” Papa said, face appearing above the floor line with bulging eyes. “I’ll teach him a lesson so good he’ll wish he was back with that drug addict whore he calls a mother.”

“Papa!” I called out, whimpering. “It wasn’t me! There was—”

“More lies, boy?” He reached for his waist and unslung his belt, snapping it in his hands. The metal buckle gleamed in the light. “This time,” Papa said, stepping forward, “I’m not gonna stop until you bleed.”

I recoiled, raising my hands defensively. “Please,” I sobbed. “P-please don’t, Papa. I’m sorry I—” A crack sounded and pain exploded across my hands. I gasped, instinctively scrambling away but strong hands grabbed me and dragged me back. 

“This time I’ll give you the buckle,” Papa growled. 

Tears gushed from my eyes. Blood leaked from my hands. A word fell from my mouth with all the force of an atomic bomb.

“Well, well,” the voice whispered, dripping with violence. “Took you long enough.”

_____________________

I woke up in a large, white bed inside of a pale gray room. 

“Look who’s up,” said a familiar voice. I squinted, my eyes adjusting to the brightness of the space. A man in a robe with a crucifix necklace stood at my bedside, staring down at me with cold, calculated eyes. “It only took you four days.”

I blinked, bleary-eyed. “Father Andrews?” I mumbled. “I’ve been asleep for four days?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Where am I?”

He looked around, as though appraising the setting for the first time himself. “If I had to guess, I’d say we were inside of a hospital, weren’t we?” He shot me a smile. “It’s fine, I’ve got most of the curtains drawn so it’s hard to tell. Besides, I’m sure somebody your age hasn’t had many occasions to be here.”

I sat up, confused and disoriented. “What happened?”

Father Andrews frowned, his expression growing grave. “That’s what I was hoping you could tell me, Alex. You don’t remember anything?”

“No, Father,” I said, shaking my head. Memories flashed in my mind— of a belt, of Papa’s angry face storming up the attic steps. “I remember being in a lot of trouble,” I began. “I remember feeling…”

“Feeling what, Alex?”

The word I wanted to say was afraid, but I knew I’d get in worse trouble for saying that. It wasn’t fair of me to make Mama and Papa look bad in front of the Father. Not when I did that so much already. 

“I remember feeling tired,” I lied, before quickly changing the subject. “Why am I in the hospital, Father? Am I okay?”

“That depends. Do you feel okay?”

“I think so. I feel tired and I’ve got a headache but mostly I feel alright.”

Father Andrews moved closer to me, and a gravity fell across his expression. When he spoke, it was in a quiet, measured tone. “Do you feel like yourself?”

My head spun. Memories lurched out of dark spots in my mind, memories of a voice, of a malevolent presence tempting me to admit I’d been crying during my prayers. Now I was here,  in the hospital next to Father Andrews. A priest. 

“What happened?" I asked, more urgently. Even at six, I could connect the dots that something was very wrong. “Something happened didn’t it and—”

“Easy, Alex,” Father Andrews soothed. “The doctors have been in. You’ll be happy to hear that, as far as they can tell, you’re fine. A little worse for wear, but nothing that won’t clear in a few days. And the doctors will be happy to hear you’ve woken from your coma.”

“Coma?” The word was new to me, but I felt like I’d heard it before. It felt like something bad, like something you didn’t want to have happen to you. Terror shot through me. “Are Mama and Papa mad at me?” I asked.

A sinking feeling formed in my gut. The voice had destroyed so much stuff in the attic, and now that Mama and Papa had gotten a good look at it they were probably furious with me. I’d likely get a second-helping of discipline when I got home.

“Sharon and Joseph are dead,” Father Andrews said. 

My mouth fell open. The gravity of the word was almost beyond my understanding. “What do you mean?”

Father Andrews sighed, then pulled the rest of the curtain shut around my bed, shielding us from view. “Alex, this is difficult to say... but they’re dead because of you. You killed them.”

I blinked. The situation felt like a bad dream, like a scenario so awful that it couldn’t possibly be true. “I killed them?” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “No… No I didn’t I—”

“You burned away every ounce of blood in their bodies and seared crucifixes into their foreheads. When the police showed up, they were husks. You were comatose."

I swallowed, my mouth dry. “No, that’s not right, I…” Horror wrapped itself around me as more memories unearthed themselves. This time, I remembered the attic, and the voice. I remembered it tempting me to break my vows to God by speaking a word. If I just spoke the word, it said, it could make the pain go away. “I loved them,” I said, my voice cracking with the onset of tears. “I wouldn’t hurt them because I loved them. I promise!”

Father Andrews folded his arms. “That may be, but they're dead now.” He reached into his robes and produced a small, clear vial. Unstoppering it, he held it above my head. “Now that you’re awake, let’s try this again.” He tilted the vial and doused me in the liquid. 

I coughed and sputtered as it fell into my nose and eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Holy water,” he explained. He gave the empty vial a gentle shake in front of me. “Over the past three days I’ve poured various amounts onto you, but it’s never had any effect. Do you know why that is?”

Holy Water. It was something I once learned about in Sunday School: water that had been blessed to protect against demons and other terrible things. If he had been pouring that on me, then it was because he suspected… 

I gazed up at him, horrified. “It wasn’t my fault!” I cried, shaking my head as though if I just denied it hard enough, then I could make it all go away. The demon. The dead parents. All of it. I just wanted a second chance. 

“What wasn’t your fault?” he replied. 

Guilt twisted inside of me. “The demon in the attic!” I blurted out. “I didn’t mean to talk to it, I swear! It just kept pressuring me and pressuring me and then I got so scared, and I accidentally said the word but I didn’t mean to, I didn’t…” I broke off into a long sob. 

It was as though the entire experience had been bottled up before, whether because the memories still hadn’t caught up to me, or the guilt hadn’t, but now it was all falling out of me like a river. 

Father Andrews grabbed me by my shoulders. “You said a word?”

I nodded, my lip curled up and snot leaking down my nose. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What word?” 

“I…” The word sat on the tip of my tongue, but fear gripped me. What if the demon was waiting in here, unseen just like it had been in the attic? What if when I said the word, the demon would crawl right back inside of me and start killing people all over again? I couldn’t face that. I couldn’t risk that. “I… can’t,” I said. 

Father Andrews brought his mouth next to my ear. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, deliberate. “What. Was. The. Word. Alex?”

“If I say the word,” I explained. “Then the demon might come back and hurt—”

“Say it!” he snapped. “Say the damn word!”

I slammed my eyes shut, pursing my lips and shaking my head. There was no way I could do it. No way. Not after hearing what had happened the last time. 

The Father snarled and tore the crucifix from his necklace and pressed it against my forehead. He muttered words in a language I didn’t understand. “Enough excuses! Now say it!"

"Help," I whimpered.

"I'll help you once I'm sure—"

"No," I said. "That was the word. I asked for… help."

"Help?" He stared at me blankly, mouth hanging open as though processing something. “Did you say that you asked for… help?”

I nodded, shaken.

“Oh, Lord Almighty Above.” He heaved a sigh, pocketing his crucifix and sitting down in the chair next to my bed. “Thank God.”

The situation had only gotten more confusing. “I’m sorry, Father. Thank God… for what?”

He took a breath, then another. Eventually, he stood up and approached my bedside, placing a hand on my arm. “Things aren’t as bad as they seem.”

“They’re not? Does this mean I wasn’t possessed? That it wasn’t me that hurt Mama and Papa?”

Father Andrews’ smile faltered. “I don’t have much experience with this, so you’ll forgive my bluntness. But you deserve the truth.” He paused. His next words came slowly. “It’s clear to me that you really were possessed, Alex. And, for better or worse, that same force used you to commit violence against Joseph and Sharon. Through you, it killed them.”

My heart fell. 

In that moment, my world, small as it was, collapsed around me in slow motion. I shrank before Father Andrews. I wanted to keep shrinking— become tinier and tinier until there was nothing left of me and I wouldn’t feel this horrible guilt and shame. My body quaked with the fresh onset of tears. “Am I evil now? Will that demon keep possessing me?”

Father Andrews stared at me as though dumbstruck. “Demon?” 

I tried to respond, but it just came out as a torrent of ugly sobs. 

A moment later, he seemed to have realized something. He shook his head as though chastising himself and then pulled me close, wrapping me in one of the warmest embraces I’ve ever felt. “You weren’t possessed by a demon, Alex.” 

He squeezed me. 

“You were possessed by an angel.” 

[kayssweetdreams]

Mirror Mirror Mayhem Ch 17

Balan, Rebecca and Leo ran to the Hall of Mirrors with Mirror Mei in tow. The reflection had been screaming obscenities and how she demanded to be "released" as the three of them ran inside, and saw Kaylo, Emma and Trisha Jane with the strange Mirror

"You guys ready?" Emma asked. "Yes! Now to commence with part 2 of my plan!" Rebecca said. "Now remember, we NEED to get Mirror Mei close enough to the mirror when we say the incantation to free Mei." She said. "But what about our other reflections?" Leo asked. "Kaylo's currently keeping an eye on the exit, and placing mirrors on the door to stay sure." Rebecca said.

The kids nodded before they saw the bag holding Mirror Mei struggle more. "Drop her there Balan. We'll say the incantation on the Mirror. Mei, you know what to do?" Rebecca asked as she looked into the mirror compact. "...Yes! ...I know what to do!" Mei said in the mirror realm. "Alright! Let's do this!" Leo said as the kids ran deeper into the hall of Mirrors.

Balan placed the bag with Mirror Mei on the ground as he dissappeared from her view. When Mirror Mei finally got out of the bag, she found herself gazing through the various mirrors lining the halls. Her eyes narrowed "WHERE ARE YOU?!" She shouted at the various mirrors, looking for the pathetic brats that DARED to do this to her. She gazed at herself at in one of the mirrors before it shifted into the real Mei.

"You got a lot of nerve doing this." Mei said to her. Mirror Mei snarled at her as she shattered the mirror in front of her. "You made such a mess around town, and made most of Timeville think I'm a trouble making brat." The real Mei said from another Mirror. Once again, Mirror Mei destroyed the mirror before the real Mei popped up again. "You're lucky that Balan isn't here. He would make sure you'd never get out again." She said.

Mirror Mei growled at her. "YOU THINK I CARE ABOUT THAT MAD HATTER KNOCKOFF?! That Theatric idiot didn't even KNOW that I wasn't the real you!" She shouted. "It doesn't matter. Either way, Balan still has the power to lock you away back in that mirror." The real Mei retorted. "And? You think any of these cheap pieces of glass is gonna put me back into the mirror realm? FAT. CHANCE." She spat before shattering that Mirror as well.

"Oh well...Balan already is coming back with that mirror. Sooner or later. He's gonna get here, and you're going back in. And I'm getting back out." Mei said nonchalantly before Mirror Mei smashed it again. "FORGET IT!! I'm not going back in there. Not now. NOT EVER!!" She screamed. Mirror Mei then began to violently smash the various mirrors in the hall as she tried to get rid of the real Mei.

"...C'mon guys! ...Hurry up!" Mei ushered from inside the compact as the reflection was getting closer to the Wonderworld Mirror. "We're trying! It's hard to read the words in here!" Leo said as he squinted to read the Balanese incantation in the darkness of the hall. "I see it!" Emma said as she read the dim text

"Mirror Mirror. Words well known. Gazing at the reflection that I own. As Wonderworld protects, a balance will Hang. Capture the Yin, and release the Yang"

The words around the mirror glowed as the mirror began to ripple like water "I think it worked!" Leo said "Good! Now we only need to wait for the reflection to-" Rebecca stopped as she heard shouting from outside and Kaylo's voice yelling

"GUYS!! THE REFLECTIONS!! THEY'RE TRYING TO GET IN!!"

Mei belongs to @sundove88

Rebecca belongs to @thehypercutstudios /@thehyperrequiem

Trisha Jane belongs @lovelyteng

[digitalbath1988]

I can almost see

The blackest eyes

The new flesh

This is how it all begins

Give it to me

I can take it

-The New Flesh, Nine Inch Nails

—-

Thought about what would happen if these two had met in a slightly healthier way. But not much healthier because he’s gonna creep.

TW: dubious consent, PIV sex, oral sex, light BDSM, Stalking/general creepiness

—-

The New Flesh

She locked up promptly at nine thirty PM every night. Homelander wondered if she just took exactly thirty minutes to do- whatever mundane tasks it was she had to do- or if her employer limited the amount of hours she could pull in.

In any case, it was a familiar comfort now, watching her do this almost nightly. She dropped the cash at the bank and then made her way to the subway.

The billboard had said “Calla, New York” in small font on the right hand corner. There was only one US Apparel store in New York. And Calla was there almost every day.

He would have thought she’d be the kind of girl to be snobbish, but she always ducked and weaved, avoiding attention as much as it was possible for someone who was that attractive. It was funny to watch from above. The way she tried to retreat inside herself, just for heads to still indicate which way she was walking.

But today he wasn’t going to give them the chance to get whiplash.

She was talking on the phone as she locked up. “Don, yes, I set the alarm. Well- they must have caught them, I didn’t hear any more gunshots after the first one. Yes, I’ll be careful.” Calla clicked the phone off and gently cussed under her breath.

“We caught one of them.” Homelander commented from behind her. The lie slipped easily from his tongue.

Calla turned on her sneakers, but hid her shock under that phony retail smile. He wondered what it would take to get a real one. “Homelander?” She asked.

“I’m just patrolling the area. Did you see anything suspicious?”

Calla shook her head no, arms crossed protectively around herself now. It was funny to think that this was the girl posed half naked on maybe a dozen billboards in New York alone. He had been expecting someone far more daring.

“Say, you wouldn’t be planning to deposit that cash all by yourself, while there’s a perp on the loose?”

“Well, umm- I didn’t know, sir.” She seems to gather her composure, even as her posture winds her up tighter. “But I can protect myself.” The source of her newfound confidence was clear- a gun carefully hidden in the lining of her stiff army green jacket. She’s just full of surprises. He grinned at her.

“Come on, let me walk you to the bank. Didja know it’s illegal to concealed carry in New York?” He flicked his hand at her, noting the way her bright blue eyes went wide. “Ah, don’t worry, I won’t tell. Just would get you into trouble if you ever had to use it. I’ve got no issue with it- in fact, would make my job easier if all beautiful women went around like that.”

“You can see that?! I mean, you think I’m.. I mean, sure, if you want-“. Calla stammered and blushed hot pink as he put his arm in hers.

“You’re the only one locking up all alone, we can’t risk anything happening to you, huh.” He ushered her along easily. “So- you know my name. What’s yours?”

“I mean, respectfully sir, I doubt Homelander is the name your mom and dad picked for you.” She said with a small chuckle, causing a bit of psychic pain to shoot through him. “But I’m Calla Jones.”

“Nice to meet you. You’re a student?”

“Yeah, sophomore at NYIT. Computer science.” She wasn’t much for eye contact, looking everywhere but at him. He frowned but continued. After all, she wasn’t looking at his face.

“Beautiful and smart, then.”

“Look, you don’t need to lay the charm on so thick. I’m sure that you can get any girl you want.” She gulped and shot him a half glance, not meeting his eyes. “Umm- sorry if I overstepped, sir.” Her cheeks were flushed again. And her heart was pounding.

They reached the bank quicker than he would have liked, before he could retort. He felt uncharacteristically cotton-mouthed. Especially when she finally angled those expressive eyes back at him.

“I’m taking you home,” he said, wishing it was true in the way that he wanted it to be.

“No, I’ve already used up so much of your time. I couldn’t impose like that,” she said, but he was already scooping her up. After all, her tone had said yes please, even if she pretended otherwise. “Ummm- we’re gonna fly?” She asked nervously, smoothing out her miniskirt.

“I thought you were smart,” he said with a chuckle on their ascent. She didn’t scream, but she lost all the color in her face. “You’re afraid of heights.”

“Maybe a little,” she said, trying bravely to smile at him. “I’m in Brooklyn. Greene Apartments.”

He remembered that he wasn’t supposed to know where she lived. “Ah, thanks. Well, maybe I could fix that fear of heights.”

“I don’t think it needs fixing- I mean, I’m not usually very far off the ground.” He liked how her grip tightened around him, the way her pounding heart made her hold onto him for her life. Especially combined with the way she tried to put on a brave face.

“You and I are going to see each other again. I’m going to show you there’s nothing to be afraid of.” He confidently stated.

“I ummm- I don’t think I’m good enough for you.” She admitted plainly as he set her down. He watched her nervously smooth out her short pleated skirt. Must be force of habit, since she had to realize any modesty was an illusion in front of him.

There was something off about her, but he decided he liked it. Awkward and honest.

Of course she wasn’t good enough for him, but nobody was, and she would do just fine for right now. Another breakup with Maeve that wasn’t public had sent him spiraling a few years ago. Madelyn had been there for him at first, but now was always just out of reach. He’d told himself he was ready for something a little less complicated.

“I guess I should ask you inside.” She said nervously, one arm grabbing the other. “You stick around, I’ll bake you something as a thank you.”

There were roommates, he’d known this before they’d officially met, but both were glad to see they were out. After all, it was a balmy Friday night, everyone else was out and about but them. She pulled the ingredients from the cupboards. “I hope you like chocolate chip,” she commented. A nervous little introvert who likes doing rather than talking- she needed someone like him. He’d speak for her.

He put his hands around her waist, pulling her in close. “I like you even better.” He said it with a smirk, his lips so close to hers now.

“I really like you too,” she confessed. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, so softly. He matched her pressure, despite his own blood pounding harder in his veins, the way his cock was already engorged by such tender affection. Her delicate limbs wrapped around him, even a leg. Like she wanted to fuse with him.

How could he control himself? He wanted to show her what had happened to anyone that desired to truly know him. Her wide blue eyes opened mid kiss, as if she knew his monstrous thoughts. His had never shut, and he pulled her in closer so she could feel the pulsating hard on she’d given him with a gentle kiss. “Take me back to your room, sweetheart.” He crooned.

“I’m never going to see you again if I do.” She replied softly. He pressed that small, warm hand against his cock with a groan. “And remember- I really like you,” she added.

Fuck, he thought, picturing that hand jerking him off onto her face, full lips opening to lap up his cum. Her arms wrapping back around him after he came, cuddling him with this same vulnerability until he fell asleep. “You wouldn’t be able to get rid of me.” He admitted.

“I’d like that.” She said, just as he pressed a hand under her skirt, hooking two fingers into her panties. She was pulsating too, warm and puffy, despite pretending to be some virtuous good girl.

“We’ll just make out,” he smoothly lied. After a moment she took his hand and led him to her room. He sat down on her bed, pulling her onto his lap. “C’mere- where were we?”

Fifteen minutes of exquisite torture later, and all he could smell was her long hair and her pussy. His thoughts became more and more unhinged every minute. He pressed his fingers against her panty clad mound. “Why don’t you let me make out with you here, honey?”

“I, ummm…” she looked at him, mind run blank. “We can’t- you won’t like me anymore…”. Despite her words, she moaned as he worked a finger inside her. Slick and warm as a dream. She rocked back and forth on it. “Oh yeah, if you fuck me, I definitely won’t want you anymore,” he joked with a smirk, jamming in his finger harder. “Fuck, I’d be obsessed with you, you could be mine, show up every night and make you cum so hard your legs shake. Would be just awful.” He eased another thick finger inside, her legs twitched madly and she whimpered as he kissed her anew. “Just let me stick the tip in, honey.”

She was so close, trembling as he rubbed her slick nub and kissed her. “Promise I won’t fuck you all the way,” he purred, getting her closer and closer to her precipice.

“I don’t know…” she said nervously. “That’s gonna require a lot of umm…Self control.”

“You don’t think I can control myself?” He asked sternly. She gulped. “I ummm… you can do it. I trust you.”

“Good girl, I’m gonna make you cum on it.” Homelander said, returning quickly to that warm reassuring tone. She moaned louder as he unzipped and pushed the tip in her, returning to rubbing her cute little nub. She’d been right, all he wanted was to push all the way in, flip her and pin her to the mattress. Calla’s eyes would be so pretty and betrayed as he pistoned her hips and came hard inside her, kissing her mouth and telling her she belonged to him now.

Despite the temptation, he somehow managed to stay completely still as he forced an orgasm out of her, trembling and soft, mewling pathetically into his mouth. He groaned into the kiss as he unloaded, messy and getting all over her slit and dripping down to his pant legs and her bed.

He wanted her to come home with him and keep him company, stop the night terrors with her arms wrapped around him all night. Fuck him too exhausted to dream. Soon she would. It had to be her idea.

They sat for a moment looking at each other. “Please don’t let this be the last time.” She asked.

“No chance it’s the last time. I’ll pick you up after class tomorrow, take you out for dinner.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“How’d you know I had class tomorrow?”

“Oh, uhh, just a lucky guess.” She eyed him a bit suspiciously as she got up.

—-

Dinner went well, she was surprisingly dark humored once she opened up and relaxed. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but it was more and more like she was the person who’d finally let him open up and feel safe. Who’d eventually know every secret about him. Of course, with an understanding that she’d keep them to herself. Or else.

While he didn’t like her bad habits, she’d been especially giggly and touchy since they’d met. Calla had snuck a joint into the waistband of her skirt and puffed on it right before he’d picked her up. Homelander pretended not to notice the taste and smell of it as long as she was touching him so nicely, leaning those soft tits into his chest and arm whenever she had the chance. Maybe if he encouraged her vices, she’d end up in bed with him all night. Those nervous inhibitions finally relaxed enough to let him pump her full of cum, a glassy eyed fuckdoll. No, that wasn’t quite what he wanted, although it had an appeal.

She smiled and made a joke that he laughed at. Girls always wanted to impress him, and she was no different. Well, there was one difference, he’d already decided that she was his. No need for these stupid little games, playing charming and hard to get. He put his hand on her knee. “No more drinking or smoking, darling. I don’t mind if you’re nervous.” He reeled her in, still a little high. “I just want you as you are, ok?”

“I was just, yeah, I’m nervous. I want you to like me.” Her eyes fluttered down to that hand over her knee. “I like you so much. I wanna let you have whatever you want, but I’m scared.”

Fuck, I’m gonna destroy you. “Don’t be scared, you know I like you too, right?” He worked his hand up further. “I promise I won’t let you down.” She nuzzled up to his chest, making his heart race. Careful or I’ll rip you apart while I’m fucking you, that’s how much I fucking like you, you’ll never leave me like the others, so perfect. He held her close with the other arm.

“I can’t stop wondering how you knew I had class today.” She said shyly, belying the fact that she was practically in his lap all over again. He froze. How could this weak little mud person make him nervous like this? “Don’t worry about it honey, it doesn’t matter right? What matters is we’re here together.” He glossed over. And how good you’re making me feel, it’s the second time you’ve seen me so it’s ok to fuck me now, right? All night, maybe I’ll wring a little pathetic, ill advised love you out of your pretty throat while you cum.

“It matters a little.”

Dark and depraved thoughts clouded his mind again, wondering if she could cope with the knowledge, hoping that she’d be able to handle herself. Otherwise- well he didn’t relish an otherwise. It would be a shame otherwise.

“Ok,” he smiled brightly, a movie star grin. “I might have seen your billboard and followed you a couple of times.”

She swallowed it down. “You didn’t have to do that.” He was relieved to see that this was how she’d chosen to deal with that information- he’d selected well. It was a good barometer to indicate how she’d manage future situations. All he had to do now was seal the deal.

“How else was I supposed to meet you, sweetheart? I could have asked someone at Vought to set us up, but that would have been too awkward. Besides, what’s important is that I already know I like you. We don’t have to wait any longer.” He pulled her back into his embrace. “Can you forgive me, Calla?”

“I forgive you, Homelander.” She said softly, heart still pounding from anxiety, leaning up to give him a kiss. Perfect. He was ravenous for her, but held back, letting her take the lead. So she could feel like she was the one in control.

She sucked his tongue, surprising him with her boldness. He held her by the head, never wanting to let her go. They awkwardly made their way back to his bed without breaking the kiss, some combination of flying and walking he couldn’t remember.

Homelander tore her little black dress off, not thinking about how it was probably the only nice thing she could afford. The cheap lingerie set underneath suffered the same fate. It was just like unwrapping a present. She was perfect, although it was hardly a surprise after weeks of following her around.

Her brow knitted slightly, probably at the realization that she had nothing to wear back home. He’d figure something out- right now he was more focused on getting her turned on. She was still holding her legs together. “Sorry- I just can’t stop thinking about-“

“The fact that I thought you were so beautiful that I had to meet you?” He nuzzled her knees apart. “Not everyone is as special as you, darling.”

Despite her words she was dripping, fucking delicious, and he gently tasted her. Swollen and tender. She shook like a leaf. “I can’tt… stop thinking about what happens when you finally get what you want.”

He lapped at her still, watching her every shudder. “You think I’d go to all this effort for one time? C’mon. Why don’t you just relax and let all those pesky thoughts melt away, huh?”

Calla nodded, leaning back, even though her heart was still thumping. He devoured, wanting her to obsess over him too, associate him with pleasure. The tangy sweet taste of her jolted right to his cock. He moaned, grabbing his prick in hand as he ate her out. It felt so good to stroke himself to her taste, to think about what he wanted to do to her next, how he’d be stuffing this part of himself into her leaky cunt.

Her pussy twitched as if they were on the same page. “Gonna fuck you now,” he said, own blood loudly pounding in his head.

“Wait,” she protested, but it was so gentle. He dragged her down the bed to him. “I can’t, sorry honey” he said with a kiss to her forehead, leaking cock gently rubbing against her soaking wet pussy. A jet of pre-cum made her spasm beautifully for him. He lined himself up and took her, pulling her flush against him as her body accepted his. His eyes flashed with the triumph, probably scaring the poor thing. “So deep inside you,” he crooned, hand outlining where he’d shoved inside. “You’ll always be mine now.”

She whimpered and he turned her eyes to meet his, still cooling from red to blue. “You can be my good girl, right, honey?” She gulped and nodded, trying to placate him with the movement of her body. Calla couldn’t hide how much she liked it, not when he was whispering filthy praise in her ear and a little shudder would pass through her warm insides. A larger shudder and scream, biting his shoulder as he gently pressed her clit. He smirked with satisfaction.

“I’m not pulling out.” His tempo increased, and she made a weak little protestation. But it was too late, his hand was clamped gently over her mouth, he groaned and his dick twitched inside her. “You were made for this. Made for me.”

He wasn’t sure if it was his words, his cum or the way his eyes flashed red again, but she looked afraid, and he had to look away for fear of accidentally lasering her.

The resulting piece of mirror would have hit her if he hadn’t caught it. “What if I got pregnant?” She said, purposefully sounding vulnerable to avoid any impression of an accusation.

He paused at a mental image of her pregnant and glowing, tucked under his arm at a press conference. Smiling kindly at reporters as he spoke about their pregnancy. It was a beautiful thought, the beginnings of his own family. But then he let it go- it was so easy to be disappointed by people, especially the ones without superpowers. Especially one who was in reality, just a scared nineteen year old girl.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I’m shooting blanks. If anything happens, you let me know, ok?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll just take the morning after pill. It’s ok.”

He kept his expression as neutral as possible, which wasn’t very, because she frowned. “Hey, it’s going to be alright. Sweetheart,” he pushed a strand of hair back from her face, “don’t be so afraid, huh? C’mere.” He hugged her before she could move, (although he was certain she didn’t even want to move yet due to the amount of cum inside her.). She felt good- he didn’t really hug any of his sexual partners, not even Maeve or Madelyn. Even though she seemed a bit avoidant, she still relaxed into his arms. It was cozy, just the two of them, and he started thinking about their future again. He hugged her tighter, before remembering something that had happened a long time ago.

Calla looked at him and smiled. “Hey, it’s ok. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need to hold on so tight.”

“In that case- we might as well get your money’s worth out of that morning after pill.” He said with a grin.

—-

[ducknotinarow]

Serial Killer Casey and Raph - Fatal Blow Meme

Casey hadn't meant to hit them that hard, hadn't meant to lose it with Raphael. He was always so good when it came to his temper and his lover. The lover he kept locked up and safe from the World. But they hadn't gotten mouthy, threatened to escape, threatened to take him down.

He had to remind them of their place. Had to get them to understand, he only wanted to keep them safe...needed to keep them safe. He couldn't lose them again.

He gripped his hockey stick tight, his blue eyes piercing through them, near daring them to move. They didn't. Good.

"See...aint it better when ya do what ya tol'?"

He got little in response, and Casey felt his own blood run cold for once. Dare he say he felt panic. Now that dare for them to move, turned into hope,

"...Raphael...?"

Casey slowly moved to his knees, hands grabbing their shoulder as he shook them. That anger he felt turned to nothing, as he panicked, felt remorse, regret, feelings he didn't even know he was capable of anymore! What had he done...what had he done?!

"Ya...ya not gonna die on me ya 'ear," Casey demands, "I said ya aint gonna fuckin' die Raph!"

He'd gone too far. He hit them too hard. He swallowed thickly, a pain he hadn't felt since his parents died hitting him like a bullet to the back,

"...I'm sorry..." The words are whispered like a sin, "I'm so sorry..."

| My character takes a fatal blow intended for your character. How does your character react?

Raphael couldn't let the shock get to him anymore he had to deal with it later, this was the perfect chance Casey finally left him alone. Unsure for what, nearly fearing for what. Raphael still couldn't fully believe it as the truth Casey? that goof ball mechanic was the very same person going around killing people? The one who killed Buck. As awful as it sounded that was still the real only crime in the turtles mind. The rest? He could see some justification on killing them. Low life dirt bags. He shook the thought out. He can't still be agreeing with this with any of this. He was conflicted about it all before but now that he knows it was Casey the whole time? It made those arguments even more dangerous to wager in his mind. Did..did part of him always know it was Casey the whole time?

Not the time Raphael. He refocused himself, as if it were so easy to not focus on the fact your best friend was the biggest known killer in all of New York city. That said enough on it's own. No he was also the killer Raph's older brother and team leader wanted to put an end too. Raph had to get out of here so he could get to his brothers first and.

And what? Raphael couldn't believe it part of him truly seemed to think and feel that he could what stop them for going after Casey? Something was seriously wrong with him. He kept shifted his wrists together trying to get them to line up how he needed. As he mentally scolded himself for his stupidity just then and there. finally he felt his palms against the other and started to push. Everything playing through his mind how worried Casey was about Raph being part of hunting down the killer. Thinking it was genuine worry and care for his well being that whole time. No Casey just didn't want to be caught. Evading the cops was easy but four mutant turtles? Despite whatever Casey tried to sell him on about protecting him. Raphael just couldn’t bring himself to believe it. He could hear the ropes started to snap as he pushed hard flexing his arms to add in pressure the snapping was so satisfying to his ears, finally his wrists were free. Arms moved in front of himself as he took a second to rub over his wrists the ropes had been cutting into his scales. HE didn’t have much time to waste as he looked down to his feet’s starting to work on the rope there.

Too focused on getting away though when he suddenly felt something slam rough into the side of his face. He could feel wood splinter and break, inbreeding between his scales making the hit twice as much. The clear sound of wood beak for being slammed into a small like tank built turtle stood no chance. But it was more the force on the other end that really go Raphael. “Fuck” He spat, literally as he had bite down on his tongue, “Ya ain’t keepin’ me here locked up!” Raph snaps as he looks up to find Casey hold the broken hockey stick. They would need something more dense to really do any harm to Raph. Thick scales and muscles made him like a small tank in build. “One way or another ‘m gettin’ outta here and when I do!” Raph started to threaten but even he didn’t know how to end it.

Was he really meant to turn in Casey? How? Like the cops would accept a mutant knowing the truth. Besides he’s not sure he wanted the cops to handle Casey. He rather him and his brothers do it. Whatever that meant. Raphael didn’t want to think too hard on what that might mean. Leo could make that call right? “I ain’t some damn pet! An’ ya can’ keep me here forever Case. If I don’ get out they will find me you know ‘hat! So stop this insane batshit and-“

Another hit, this time there was a hard throb ringing out against the other side of his face, Raphael had to slam a hand down to th floor to try and keep himself steady. That time it was their hockey stick that hit him it seemed. Casey meant business here, teach Raph a lesson he figures. Raphael just spat out more blood on to the floor before a ow growl emitted out from the back of his throat. A blessing in disguise Donnie would feel the same pain and might be able to understand the confusion in Raph. He just wasn’t sure if that would be enough to let Don guess where he was. He knows that Don at least wouldn’t stop trying to find him. Less dramatic, none of them would without a body to claim.

“Best ya got pretty, boy? Pfft an’ here I though you were ‘his big bad killer, playin’ around as. Sham of a hero!” Raphael taunted. He might have at first agreed with the killer, but now? He couldn't even tell you that he was looking at who was meant to be his besr friend. Someone Raphael would defend with every ouce of his being to his last dying breath even and yet here they stood bloody hockey stick in hand as they once more brought it down. Each hit harder than the last. Raphael took it every time. Unsure when the next would come but he could tell Casey was unleashing mlre and more strength between the hits. Fuck. Was all Raphael could think as he coughed up more blood. And some bile that had burned the back of his thoart till it mixed with rhe pooling blood in his mouth. Raphael leaned forward trying his best to stay up, more blood let out to the floor getting on to Casey's shoes. That had the turtle bear his teeth as he shot his head up to look at Casey best he could. One eye swollen shut from the bruising it was being forced to go through. When he heard the sound of Casey's breath ready to speak "Save it!" Raphael shouted to cut them off. "I aint buyin' your bull shit! Keep tryin' to sell and spin that story all ya want I know who I'm looking at." He spits out blood and Slavia mixture out towards Casey unsure it it hit the intened target and uncaring either way. "More like what 'm starting at. Nothing more than that damn mask of yours uh? Covering it all up with an act. Pft maybe ya should have gone off to Hollywood in the end." He sure had Raphael convinced after all. "Ta think I actually believed you too." He scoffs before looking back up at them. "Get in all ya can Casey, because I will get outta here. And jus' cause I did think you as a friend I'll take you out by my hands myself." Raphael said the promise clear in his voice. Casey was too dangerous to let walk away. He couldn't let the cops handle it. He couldn't let his brothers do it either. No he would.

It made sense in the long run to Raphael. This was his punishment wasn’t it? In a way he had helped this killer. Part of what kept Leo from looking into it sooner, Leo would have found out so much sooner. Never expected Casey once because of Raphael’s friendship it gave Casey a good cover. He helped Casey ind places to hide and strike hadn’t he even. This was just as much on him as it was on Casey. Raphael’s friendship was nothing but a cover for him this whole time, how could he be so dumb to believe Casey would be hi friend..to care about him in the way that Raphael thought they did. No it had to be hid hand.

Though, Raphael in the moment was nothing but threats at this moment, Casey? Was the one who had the situation in his control. Didn’t matter how thick skin or tough even that Raphael was between the mutagen and the own conditioning years of training and self maintenance. Not compared to what burned inside of Casey, a coldness came over the human that Raphael never once thought possible for them. Eyes that made him think of warm summer days by the lake that had warmed up a little thanks to the heat wave in the air. We’re more like ice, as Casey lifted the hockey stick high above his own head. Everything Raphael thought of Casey come across his mind once more. The nights bickering back ad forth on what team would win, Raphael learning how to fix up his bike from watching Casey in the shop. Dumb inside jokes that made the others groan when ever they got stuck hearing them. And what did Raphael feel in the final seconds his mind was allowed to still think? How he failed his best friend. He wasn’t there for Casey how he needed him to be there for him. Raphael hadn’t seen everything that was hurting them all that time Raphael just hadn’t seen it. If he did? Could he have kept Casey fm being this?

“I’m sorry“ Words cut off in the end as the hockey stick smashed right into his head the bone cracked beneath the weight of Casey’s swing, the crunc was unpleasant and white burning hot pain that shout out across his skull and through out every nerve. Raphael felt weightless. He didn't even feel his body slump on to the floor. Vision dark and blurry.

"See...aint it better when ya do what ya tol'?"

Raphael tried to voice a response but nothing came of it.

"...Raphael...?"

They really were nothing but a bullshitter uh? Claimed they were keeping Raphael safe. He barely can tell his shoulder is being shaken only aware Casey touched him as his view moved letting him see Casey for a moment. The look across Casey's eye was the first time Raphael saw the man he always thought them to be. Fear and worry across those ocean eyes that Raphael had grown so damn fond of over time....and kind of hated as well. He didn't want that to be his last thought when it came to Casey though.

"Ya...ya not gonna die on me ya 'ear,"

He likely was going to. Raphael already accepted that fact, he was going to die. Like this of all things? Man what a let down he always thought it be in a fight. Guess in a way it had been that way. He wished he could speak, try on last time to reach Casey. Casey for all the wrong he done still touched Raphael's harden heart. Got him to open up someone, felt safe around someone. Sure that lead Raphael here, dying by his own blood, spilled by his so called best friend. Shit don't seem to matter much in those final moments. Because at least he wasn't alone in his death at least Casey was here. Maybe his death will be his last attempt to reach out to Casey somehow? Or is that just wishful thinking of a dying mutant?

"I said ya aint gonna fuckin' die Raph!"

Raphael wished he wasn't either, he wanted to ask Casey why he wanted to talk to them. Late at night when he would sneak back into the auto shop Casey worked in. Music playing as they laughed and shared a case of beer together. Not one of the rowdy nights just one of those nights where they talked. Really talked. Raphael never was much of a talker but those talks with Casey? They were so real.

"...I'm sorry..."

Yeah, Raphael was sorry. Sorry he hadn't done more for Casey, sorry his friendship wasn't enough in the end. Sorry he was selfish and never reached back out to someone clearly hurting and needed him to be there.

"I'm so sorry..."

So was Raphael.

[hailtothemightystarwarrior]

Adeleine rushed to the door. And right when she is about to grab the door handle, daroach grabbed her by the wrist. He wagged a finger at her in mild reproval. “Tsk tsk tsk, what a naughty girl” he teased. “Think carefully, child” daroach warned “I rather best resort into other ways and that would be an ugly way to win a pretty wife” Still, the scolding was nothing but a wag of the finger Daroach pulled out a key and locked the door tight so Adeleine can’t escape. “I’m Sorry, daroach, if you Please, but I hope I didn’t Mean to be ungrateful, But…” adeleine begged in a timid voice, trying to respond to daroach "Oh, now now, don't think this is a bad thing, darling. After all, once you marry me, you'll be Queen of the land of dreams" she looked up at him in horror "You're not gonna put a spell on me, are you?" he tapped his chin "Hmm, not a bad idea" he shook his head "No, no. I was thinking more along the lines of..." "This!" daroach said as he took a rose out of a vase above the mantel and put it between his teeth adeleine gasped as he grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a dance. she panted as daroach jolting her around in a tango "Ugh naw haw mhm," he said between his teeth "Huh?" adeleine questioned daroach spat out the rose "I said i'm not all bad” she yelped as he dipped her "I'm not a complete stranger to the ways of love" her eyes widened at his puckered lips "I, uh," she stuttered as she attempted to push away his face "I don't really" "at least give me a chance,my love" he whispered Adeleine shook her head. "Love? I don't think you know the meaning of the word" "You're right," he grinned as he laid his paw on her waist. "I didn't" he brought her closer "Until I met you" she narrowed her eyes "Do you think this is love?" she huffed "You're only interested in me because you think i'm pretty!" "That's not true," he said as he moved behind her "You're not merely pretty, my sweet" he pulled her up and whispered into her ear "You're more beautiful than the orange sun of Orange Ocean setting into the night where the auroras from Rainbow Resort glows with their vibrant colors" "Humph!" she grunted, crossing her arms and turning her face away from him "Oh come now, darling, don't be so bitter. If you're my..." "Wife? or plaything?" Daroach was taken aback from this remark "Of course not, you would be my idol! I’m a very rich man, My Dear. I would give you riches, fine clothing, sweet purfumes..." “and dress me up like a doll?!" Adeleine spat "That's all I'd be to you! You'll treat me just as you are right now!" she tried to let go of the gray squeaker's paw "You know nothing about real love! If You want me, I won't be your idol, but a pretty doll that you can play with!" Daroach scowled "strange that you use that analogy! don't you have friends that you play with whenever you like?" "That's different!" Adeleine declared "I actually cared about them! What about you? If I wasn't beautiful anymore, would you still want to hold me?" he blinked "Of course I would" "Exactly what I th..." she paused "what?" Daroach whispered "I don't want you because you're beautiful, although the sight of you is breathtaking" "b-b-but," she choked, but you...I...wha...?" "Remember when we were in the cave? he asked softly "And I was on fire? Most People would've let me burn, but you...not only did you put out the fire, but you tended to my wounds. no one has ever dared to touch me or even... look at me. not in the way you did" she said nothing, only stared in amazement at the sincerity in his eyes “I have longed admired you, gazed with wonder at your sweet and lady virtue, marveled by your tender loveliness and charm.” daroach said, being swooned,looking down at his beauty. “I Am Asking You To Become My Wife” "it's not just your face i'm in love with," he breathed, his eyelids sliding closed as he leaned forward. "It's your, gentle, colorful soul..."

[aureatemedusa]

Rainy Day Mutuals // @drcxmlcss

When the chair squealed its protest, and that blonde leaned back to acknowledge her for the first time, Quackity's eyes scanned familiar features. Scrutinizing in her curiosity, it was almost as if Alex was trying to pick apart every freckle and imperfection on blondie's face. Where had she seen him before? Even if her smile didn't drop, Quackity still seemed downright distraught by the connection being severed. Sharp green shuttered by locks of barley matched her intensity, smile just as friendly and alluring as her own. If the appearance wasn't enough, Alex was sure that daring tone would ring bells — out-of-tune bells that got her nowhere, but at least she knew this man from somewhere on the tip of her tongue.

"Damn right, I did," she held herself higher, easily making her way to stand beside the other's chair. Blue light illuminated blondie's profile, and Quackity was sure that her skin was reflecting just as much. Mischief and trickery floated around them, joining the heavy weight of lousy weather to create a concoction of playful teasing to come. When blondie had turned once more to the screen, Alex's curiosity got the best of her. She hummed a short nasally noise, unamused — or perhaps just disinterested — with the lines of code and computer jargon that she couldn't deduce a single line's meaning. "Oh, that thing? Yeah, I've heard of it. They that much of a problem that people are trying to hunt their IP like the fuckin' FBI, huh."

Alex leaned forward, her palm resting beside the keyboard so she could press closer to the screen (if she were closer, surely she'd understand it better). Her other arm rested unabashedly against her hip, nose scrunching up with her thoughts. Close enough that she could feel blondie's body heat, yet just shy of touching; she had little to no regard for personal space, it seemed — that or she was using it as an excuse to get a closer look at the other while expressing at least some interest in this dumb gossip blog. What did it have that girls' locker rooms didn't have, anyways? Was it because it was widespread? Honestly, whoever started it was a pussy for not wanting to do the dirty work with the risks — maybe she was just spiteful that it had become so popular. Not like Alex needed to check it; nothing on there could be worse than the shit she's thrown from time to time.

Feeling blondie's eyes on her cheek, Quackity tilted her head back, now plenty close to pick out even the few crooked lashes near the corners of blondie's eyes. Her grin was wolfish, sarcasm clashing against pearly whites faster than she could hold it back, "Oh, you know, looking for hot guys to pick up and a dealer or two. The usual."

Standing up, Quackity waved her hand dismissively, chuckling with hearty good nature despite no real joke being said outside her own, "Nah, but I was hanging around trying to find a friend of mine, but my fucking luck xyr off sleeping away xyr life 'cuz of some water. This is kinda xyr spot, so I was shooting my shot and missed miserably." Her hand paused at her chest and then waved towards blondie's hoodie, "That, hermano, is where you come in—saving me from boredom! If Techno is gonna leave me bored and alone, I'll make my own friends."

Alexandria cocked her head to the side, black hair pooling over her shoulders, and just as quickly as she appeared, the dots seemed to connect. Another impulsive comment fell off her tongue in abrasive waves — Quackity controlled a room when she wanted to, demanding answers despite not being aggressive in the slightest. "Hey... are you Dream by any chance? No, hermano, I know that face; you're so fucking Dream. I've seen your streams; I knew those pixelated eyes anywhere, man!" She snapped her fingers, cheeks burning from the prideful grin that came with believing herself right, "Dream for all ages trying to dox someone? Yeouch. How scandalous."

Rainy Day Mutuals // thread with @aureatemedusa

Two hours ago, Dream entered the library, hair drenched by rainwater. With a friendly wave, he greeted the librarian. And from there, carefully worded small talk turned into stories. They revealed Dream was in desperate need of a computer. The power went off at home — obviously the storm’s fault. Essays were due the next morning, too; three of them, in fact. But at this rate, he’d suffer a blow to his grade. 

Sweetly, the librarian offered him the computer lab. They’re not supposed to let students in today, not until the storm is over. But at the same time… it’d be a shame for Dream to lose points over this. It’s not like the power going out was his fault. With thankful delight, Dream followed after them, pleased when they unlocked the door. How thoughtful. 

One hour ago, the librarian forgot he was there. Dream took that as a sign to stop pretending essays were his priority. Eyes narrowed at the screen, scanning rows upon rows of seemingly unintelligible jargon. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t get involved. The Uncovered blog was just spewing nonsense; none of it was grounded in reality. Weeks of attacks against his friends, however, pushed him toward the edge. The final straw was that post about Techno. 

Dream was going to find this asshole no matter what.

Thirty minutes ago, he realized he was getting nowhere. Layers upon layers of routing formed a maze even he couldn’t navigate. Whoever they were, they were either good… or they had help. The latter of which left a sour taste in his mouth. He wrinkled his nose, disgusted by the notion. Who would work with this stupid blog? They spread nothing but hate. Unnecessary hate at that.

What motive did they have, anyway? Their posts claimed concepts Dream doubted they believed. There had to be more to it. Frustrated, he slumped in his chair, leaning back and forth as arms folded across his chest. This wasn’t working. Think, he urged himself, but the solution remained hidden. 

Ten seconds ago, someone entered the computer lab. A voice Dream couldn’t place reached him and he looked over his shoulder, meeting the gaze of a fellow student. A student he hadn’t seen before. Choppy dark hair. Brown eyes, with one paler than the other. Attractive features. Stylish clothes. 

No, Dream would’ve remembered if he met her before. Anyone would’ve. She exuded a confidence he didn’t feel from many people. One that intrigued him. Contagious. Enthralling. 

So now, he smiles. Lets his head fall to the side, too; meeting charisma with charisma. This is more energy than he expected to find today, but he doesn’t mind. If anything, it’s a nice change of pace from the quiet politeness of a librarian. That had quickly gotten on his nerves.

“Yup, you caught me,” he admits boldly — daringly. Temerity shines in his eyes, mischievous. For a moment, he considers leaving it at that. He realizes, then, it’s not necessary to keep quiet. If he can spread information about his attempts around campus… Maybe he’ll frighten the writer into hiding. That’d be nice. “You know that blog everyone’s been gossiping about? I’m trying to track the author’s IP address.”

Glancing back to the screen, he inspects his handiwork. “More out of curiosity than anything. It’s been a fun challenge.” Lies. He’s doing this for his friends’ sake, not because he’s looking for entertainment. It’s partly out of protectiveness, partly out of bitterness. A strange mixture, but one he isn’t unfamiliar with. 

After a moment’s thought, he returns his focus to the stranger beside him. “What about you?” he asks, genuinely intrigued. “You’re the first person I’ve seen over here aside from staff. Up to anything?”

[80s4life]

Date With Disaster

Word Count: 1,564

Status: Not Requested!

Valentines Prompt: Dinner Date

Relationship: Henry Hill x Female!Reader

Fandom: Goodfellas 1990

Warnings: language, suggestive content (Henry’s a horny ass okay?), dancing, gambling, alcohol consumption, it’s a dinner date kinda but with a fun twist! :D

Masterlist Goodfellas Masterlist Valentines Prompt Masterlist 2022

{gif credits @skarface}

Straightening out the edge of your silk red dress, you spin and turn in all directions to see if there were any visible imperfections. Finding nothing too extreme, you smile sheepishly and apply a dark shade of red to your lips, fluffing your hair for extra effects.

Slipping on your sleek stilettos, you grab your small handbag and drape the overly expensive and long necklace over your head to lay heavily on your neck. Clacking up to the front door, you slip into your long trench coat and tie it loosely by your waist; daring but not too much.

Hearing your doorbell ring, you spin around it from the coat hanger behind it, opening it with a smile, “Hey Babe! You look hot!” you compliment Karen, who stands in a think black dress that hangs just above her lower thighs, a sparkly sheer cover-up warming her shoulders.

“So do you!” she smiles, holding out her hand, “Come on, we have a little drive away for this one.”

“We aren’t going to our usual?”

“No, the bartender is tired of us getting trashed and dancing on the tables,” she smirks.

“By ‘us’ you mean ‘you,’ correct?”

She laughs, not bothering to give you an answer; you both know the truth anyway. Hopping in the topless convertible, you scream out excitedly as you blare the music on the radio. Karen only howls like a wolf with you when she pulls out of the driveway and speeds down the road.

Getting to the booming Copacabana, you spin to look at Karen with wide eyes, “Are you serious?! You managed to get us a spot?!” You’re practically screaming at her.

Parking the car alongside the curb with a light jolt, she smiles sheepishly, “Yeah...About that Y/N....”

“What did you do?”

“Well, you see, I’ve been seeing this guy...”

“Yeah?”

“And, he said he had a single friend,” she flinches, knowing your freak-out is about to commence.

“Not again! Karen, please tell me you’re joking this time? You said you would stop doing these types of things.”

“I know! I know what I said, but I really like him, Y/N!”

“You said you liked the other three! I’m sorry Karen, but I can’t keep getting mixed up in these things,” you fold your arms and look at the carpeted floor in guilty defiance. You feel bad that you’re doing this, but it wasn’t you who should feel this way; it’s Karen who’s is exploiting you again.

“Pleas Y/N,” she begs.

You go to argue again, but the chauffeur knocking on the topless door with annoyance, “Are you ladies getting out?”

Karen looks to you, then looks up at the man with a smile, “Yes, yes we are.”

Unbuckling your seat belt with a soft click, you open the door, grab your purse, then shut it again, staring at the pavement beneath you as you are ponied around. 

Karen takes your arm, which causes you to stiffen. She’s taking advantage again. You argue with yourself mentally, knowing that you’re going against your morals and bending them for her again - your “friend.”

“You’re gonna like it here Y/N, he’s a real looker.”

You just nod, and upon the new, Italian accent sounding just by your ear, you look up, noticing that you’ve been pulled into the building. Karen smiles at you, then nods her head in the man’s direction, pulling her hand away from yours to grab her date’s. 

Following her line of sight, your heart does flip-flops, eyes widening and mouth going dry. A much taller man gets out of his seat in the booth, dark black hair swept into gelled, wavy locks and piercing blue eyes clinging to yours like a magnet. His gaze is imposing, letting your arms fall to hug your waist in apprehension.

He says nothing to you once he’s finally in earshot, rather just removing his eyes from your body and to his friend’s, whose arm is wrapped tightly around Karen. Your alert expression fades to one of annoyance, pissed at the man’s ignorance. He didn’t even introduce himself. 

But, maybe that was part of his elaborate scheme? Maybe he wanted you to fall to his mercy, to make yourself known to him because he was just too good to notice? Maybe he was just a dick.

Karen doesn’t take any notice to this; she’s too caught up in eye-fucking the short guy with the high pitched voice. 

Then, another, older man appears with a young girl wrapped around his body, practically dry humping his leg. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself,” he smiles, your mind doing a double-take as you notice the sincerity. “I’m Jimmy. Jimmy Conway.”

“Y/N,” you smile politely, reaching your hand out to meet his outstretched one. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” he smiles again, his voice bringing a calmness to your nerves. You know you could just rely on him to talk to if this night goes to shit.

“Hey. I didn’ introduce myself either. I apologize!” the shorter Italian finally looks to you, your eyes level with one another. You were just about his height. “I’m Thomas DeVito, but I’m okay with ya callin’ me Tommy.”

“And this, this is Henry Hill,” Jimmy mentions, Henry seeming to manage to glance at you again over the show of musicians on the stage. “He’s...Quiet?”

“Anyway! Everyone, this is Karen Friedman; also Y/N’s friend,” Tommy adds through the thick smoke between you and Henry.

...

The night goes on and Henry doesn’t say a word. You sit in a round booth, Karen on the end, then Henry, Jimmy in the center, you, then Tommy on the other end in a macaroni noodle shape. Being directly in front of him, you can feel his gaze burn your skull, but you never look up. Rather, you talk amongst the group, engaging in drinking, card games, and laughter that sounds in Henry’s ears over and over again.

You don’t look at him until you start to wrap everything up for the night, taking the rest of your cocktail like a shot and scooting out of your seat. You’re a laughing, drunk mess as you leave, stumbling and wobbling about clumsily.

...

Trying your best to make it up the stairs with your hazy state and tight dress, you take the first step and nearly face-plant. Nearly. A warm hand encompasses the entirety of your upper arm, holding you firmly away from the stairs just before your head smashes into them. 

Looking up with drunken confusion, your eyes spark as they meet icy blue ones. Henry, still as stoic as ever, yanks you up and carefully allows you to stand, but he doesn’t let go. Not until you leave the building completely, and when you force yourself away from him.

Wobbling down the sidewalk, you know you’re too out of it to drive Karen’s convertible back to your house successfully - especially when she’s not even going to be fully aware of her whereabouts until tomorrow afternoon.

You hear the clacking of dress shoes patter behind you with calm and collected repetition. Annoyed, you turn around, intending on giving the person a piece of mind and the definition of unconsensual sex when intoxicated, before you realize who it is.

Features closing off completely, you hobble up to Henry with an accusing finger, poking his chest, “What do you want?”

He doesn’t answer.

Groaning, you back away and spin on your heels, and continue back down the street. Then, you hear his footsteps again. “What the fuck is your damn problem?” you spin on him again, “What? Did you not enjoy the blind date? Did something about me not play out to your liking? Well guess what, Buddy? I didn’t even want to be here today, let alone with you!” 

That gets something out of him: he smirks lightly, his eyes widening with concern, surprise, and amusement.

“Oh, now I’m funny. I’m funny. I amuse you now? Where the fuck was this when I was sitting right in front of you?”

“No,” he finally answers, smirk widening. “Actually, I was just admiring how sexy you are when you’re all fired up like that. Listening to the soft giggles that make my stomach churn. The redness in your cheeks when someone complimented you or you took a shot; wondering if that’s the same coloration I could bring to your face while I fuck you raw, whispering prayers in your ears. Wondering what you sound like when I fuck you from behind,” he smiles with devilish delight.

Straightening with surprise, you can feel your inner thighs heat with a newfound excitement. “I don’t fuck guys who fuck up my night. You pissed me off big time; made me feel like absolute shit.”

Stepping up to you, his hand reaches up to cup your cheek, tucking a strand hair behind your ear. “Aww,” he coos, “What a shame. But, maybe I could make it up to you?”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“Oh no, what I have in mind for you is way better,” he smiles.

“Then lets go.”

[caravelstan]

she’s the prettiest girl at the party pt. 2 | s. kiszka

authors note: ummmmmmm hi :) thank you so much for your feedback on the first part of this, i’m so glad so many of you liked it :( this is my first attempt at mature content in years so please bear with me. i’m wanting to dive more into mature topics so it’s gonna be rusty at first but i’m hoping you all enjoy this regardless! if you have any requests my asks are open and as always, enjoy, feedback is appreciated and i love you <3

pairing: sam kiszka x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ CONTENT (minors DO NOT interact), alcohol, unprotected sex, dirty talk lol

word count: 2.2k

part one

the walk back to the apartment had been one of the longest, most tensest fifteen minutes of her life. they walked side by side but didn’t dare touch, sam’s fingers brushing against hers every so often but never fully touching. he was driving her crazy - the most agonizing moment in her life, she thinks, because all she wanted was for his hands to be all over her. whatever alcohol that had been running through her veins had been burned away by her adrenaline, anticipation buzzing over her skin.

they trudged up the stairs to their apartment in silence and she watches with her arms crossed as sam fishes out the keys from his pockets, dropping them almost instantly due to his shaking hands.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” he curses to himself quietly.

before she knows it she’s bending down to pick them up quickly, not bothering to wait for him. if she waits a second longer she may very well explode. she slides in between him and the door, her back to him, and she places the keys in the lock and twists, pushing the door open.

sam’s hands are on her again once the door is fully opened, practically shoving her inside and slamming the it shut behind them. he grabs the keys from her and tosses them somewhere to the ground, not caring about them anymore because they don’t need them. his lips are pressed to hers again before she can even utter out a single word, muffling any noises she may let out. her lips part against his as she breathes out a gasp when she’s being pressed up against the door, sam’s hands finding their way up under her shirt with ease.

“mine or yours?” he mutters against her lips before pressing a trail of kisses from her cheek down to the base of her neck.

her back arches off the door as a breathy laugh escapes her at the feeling of sam’s teeth scraping against her skin, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “right here’s just fine.”

“good to know,” sam chuckles and pulls away for a brief second, dark eyes locking on hers, “but the first time i fuck you is not going to be against the door. maybe next time, though.”

next time. the implication of there being a next time has her mind reeling and she lets her hands slide up, tangling her fingers in his hair before lifting his head up from her neck, smashing her lips against his. all the pent up frustration - real and sexual - is finally being let out and it feels so fucking good.

it was no secret to her, or her friends, that she may have had the smallest of small (major of major) crushes on her roommate. she wasn’t blind. he was an attractive man and he had the perfect personality to back it up. how could she not? and maybe something had always been there, the way sam would linger his touches on her for a second too long, the way he’d come into her room late at night when he couldn’t sleep just to snuggle up against her because it helped him sleep better - his words, not hers.

there was always this line that the two of them were scared of crossing, their friendship - and current living situation - meaning too much to them to ruin it with the possibility of a good fuck (and something more). the silent agreement between the two roommates is that they’d rather keep that distance between them than ruin what they had.

obviously that’s out the window now.

“yours.” she rasps against his lips, arching her hips into his. a groan rips from sam’s throat and his fingers dig into her skin. 

the way to sam’s room was a blur. feet tripping over one another, curious hands running over every inch of body that they could, swollen lips sliding against each other. her back presses against the soft plush of his blankets and she stares up at sam, his eyes blown wide.

“fucking gorgeous.” he hums under his breath. he pushes her shirt up to rest against her stomach, shaking fingers messing with the zipper of her shorts before wrapping around her belt loops. “hips up, sweetheart.”

she follows his instructions without a second thought, lifting her hips off the bed to allow him to slide off her shorts. in one swift movements they came off, including her underwear, and her cheeks flush. in the time she’s lived with sam he’s never seen her naked - not even an accidental slip up of walking into the bathroom when she was in the shower - and the way his eyes rake over her body has her squirming, that animalistic glint back in his gaze was enough to have her skin on fire.

sam doesn’t waste any time removing his shirt from his body, tossing it to the floor with her clothing before leaning down, lips attaching to the skin at her hips. she sucks in a breath when his teeth scrape over her, hips jutting in surprise. sam chuckles but doesn’t say anything, trailing his lips down to her inner thigh, edging closer to where she needed him the most.

“sammy,” she whines quietly, squirming underneath him when she feels his breath fan over her core.

“god… already so fucking wet, baby.” he groans to himself, eyes flickering up towards her face as his fingers swipe over her folds. she tries to meet his gaze but her eyes squeeze shut at the feeling, a whimper escaping her. “been dreaming of this moment for years, y/n.”

eyes still on her, he dips his head down to lick a stride up her folds, her back arching off the bed immediately. her eyes widen and before she could even let out a breathy moan, his fingers slip past her walls, lips wrapping around her clit.

“oh!” she moans, hands flying down to curl her fingers in his hair.

he doesn’t take mercy on her, mouth and fingers attacking her that she barely even has time to catch her breath. he was good, no, better than good - he was incredible. his mouth worked against her with a purpose and she felt that same feeling in the pit of her stomach grow as each second passed. his fingers pumped in and out of her quickly and each time they hit that spot she’d whine, body convulsing underneath him.

he pulls away from her all too soon and sits up, eyes boring into her own as he brings his fingers up to his mouth. his eyes flutter shut as his lips wrap around his fingers, sucking off her juices, and the moan that rips from her is borderline pornographic and she blushes.

that was the hottest thing she’s ever fucking seen.

“taste even better than i expected, sweetheart.” he hums down at her, lips stretching into a lazy grin.

scratch that - this was the hottest thing she’s ever fucking seen. the wild look in his eyes, the lazy grin, the already light fucked out flush on his cheeks. holy shit. she’ll never get enough of him.

she reaches out for him, fingers tugging at the top of his jeans. he’s quick to help her, slipping his jeans and boxers off and onto the floor. she tries not to stare, she really does, but seeing sam like this for the first time has her heart stuttering beneath her chest.

“need you now.” she mumbles, words slurring as her hands slide up and down his chest. her nails scratched gently at his skin and he groans.

“patience, baby.” he grits out, hand wrapping around his cock to give himself a few quick pumps. he grips the base of his shaft and teases her core with the tip, sliding it up and down her folds.

she moans. “sammy please.”

“need a condom.” he grunts and she can tell he’s doing everything in his power to not slide into her now and having his way with her. he begins to lean over her and towards his bedside table and she shakes her head quickly.

“i’m on the pill.” she gasps out, pushing her hips up into his. they both moan at the sensation and her hands grip his shoulders. “fuck me now, please. sammy, fuck, please. can’t wait any longer.”

“shit.”

she doesn’t care that she basically had to beg him, especially not now as she feels him slowly slide the head of his cock inside of her. she watches him tip his head back and eyes flutter shut, a breathless “fuck,” slipping past his lips. her back arches off the bed when he finally bottoms out, his cock stretching her open deliciously.

his hips snap into hers instantly, not letting up for a second, and her body shakes with each thrust. her eyes flutter shut and roll back as he continues to snap his hips relentlessly, the grip his has on her waist strong enough that it’ll leave marks but she doesn’t care - the only thing on her mind was how well he was fucking her.

“god, you feel so good around me, baby.” sam rolls his hips into hers, continuously hitting that one spot that had her body shaking and toes curling. “stretching you out so good, aren’t i, sweetheart?”

she nods her head as a string of incoherent words leave her parted lips. she can barely even form a proper sentence, her moans eating up her words as sam continues to fuck into her. he leans down and presses their lips together in an open mouthed, chaste kiss, a hand sliding down from her waist to where their bodies met in the middle.

“feels so fucking good,” he moans against her lips and presses his fingers against her clit. she feels her walls clench around his cock and he groans, hips stuttering. “fuck. gonna make this pretty pussy come all over my dick.”

his words set her on fire and the pit in her stomach grows again, her release approaching. her arms wrap around his shoulders to pull him closer to her and he tucked his head in the crook of her neck, lips abusing the skin there.

“you want that?” he mutters against her skin, gently biting down. “wanna come all over my dick, pretty girl? c’mon, cum for me. wanna watch you come undone - all because of me.”

his hips snap into hers quickly with each word he spoke, praises falling from his lips and fingers continuing to circle around her clit. her legs wrap around him and her ankles circle around each other behind his back. the sensation was becoming too much, the sound of skin slapping against each other overwhelming her, and her orgasm hit her at full force. whines of sam’s name tumbled from her lips as her body shook with her release, her pussy clenching around him as she rode out her high.

he doesn’t let up his thrusts, chasing after his own high with ragged breaths, hips stuttering once he reached his release. his hips still and she lets out a long dragged out moan when he fills her up, her body shaking with over-sensitivity. they lay like that for a moment, limbs tangled around one another as they try to catch their breath.

her eyes flutter shut and she grimaced at the feeling of him pulling away, cock slipping out of her. it’s uncomfortable, especially with how sensitive she is down there, but sam is so gentle that she barely remembers the throbbing in between her legs. from the alcohol running through her veins and the way sam had just fucked her, she barely even remembered sam leaving the room to grab something to clean them up with. he comes back moments later now adorn in some sleep shorts, hair pulled back.

he’s so pretty, she thinks to herself as he makes his way over to her. he cleans her off and she’s glad because her body feels like jello right now, and she feels as if she could fall asleep at any moment.

“hey, stay with me, sweetheart.” sam says softly and she squints over at him, eyes way too heavy to fully open.

he gives her a gentle smile before handing over one of his old shirts, letting her slip it over her body and gives her another pair of his sleep shorts. he even helps her put her hair up for the night which brings a sleepy smile to her lips. when she’s finally clothed and ready for bed she slips under the covers, snuggling into the sheets. she should probably go back to her room now but she’s too exhausted and quite frankly, she’d rather be cuddled up against sam.

eyes shut, she feels the bed dip behind her and sam’s body curls into her, his lips pressing against the back of her neck.

“we’ll have to eventually talk about this.” he murmurs into her skin. she presses herself back against him and rests her hand against his that was on her hip, humming quietly.

and he’s right. this changes everything. but she’s too tired to care.

“we’ll leave that for another day,” she mumbles, patting his hand. “right now, we sleep. and then you’re making me breakfast when we wake up.”

���oh, am i?” she can feel his smile against her skin and she can’t help but letting her own slip, albeit weak.

“mhm.”

sam snorts out a soft chuckle and presses another kiss to the back of her neck before settling against her, whispering a quiet, “goodnight.”