#*slaps knee* I STILL GOT IT LADS

[scribbleshanks]

leave me where i lie

[londonfog-chan]

Emperor Caracalla x Fem!Reader: Hermâs

A/N: The little lad dances once again.

I got this idea from listening to the soundtrack for Spirit. I’m a fucking horse girl at heart.

I also wanted to write about the true “quirky girl” experience. The majority of the time, the quirky girl isn’t beloved by all. In fact, many find her quite annoying.

I wanted to write about a sheltered, immature girl whose main character syndrome fucks her over when she finds someone that can match her delulu. I wanted to write a story where the reader is genuinely as stupid and naive, as well as childish, as the moron twins are.

Sometimes, we need a stupid reader.

Summary: Was this truly happening? Have the gods at last acknowledged your existence as the main character of your childhood narrative?

Warnings: Caracalla being a creep, period accurate misogyny, mentions of marrying off daughters to old men, Geta plotting evil, slight smutty elements

Credits: massive shoutout to @writhingg and @rxqueenotd for beta reading my clown shoes writing, as well as dealing with me screaming about my Shayla.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive

You found yourself groaning awake in your bed the morning after your sojourn in the stables.

Despite the consistent treatments of echinacea salve and rendered animal fat, the large bruise on your thigh still stung and bled through the linens— your father’s new war stallion was not one to be trifled with. Whereas you had intended to capture the hearts of the handsome stable hands by taming the horse, your poor planning and recklessness had almost killed you.

The stallion had been a gift— war spoil— from a distant land far to the east. The animal was a beautiful golden buckskin with singed brown legs and dark mane; for a moment, you mistook him for one of the golden horses that pulled Sol’s chariot across the sky. One could imagine the distinct markings as telling a story of his divine origin.

Perhaps the fiery rays of the sun singed his legs, mane and tail, and maybe the light bleached his hide— just as it tended to wash out the dyed colors of forgotten laundry hanging on a line.

He was beautiful.

So different from the broken ones you had been able to ride bareback as a small child, you naively thought all this poor creature needed to be tamed was a tender hand. Someone who understood his divine origin, and respected him for it. Only heroes in your childhood fairytales could tame such a beast, and you fancied yourself to be of their rank.

Unfortunately, your status as a chosen one was called into question. The animal was still half possessed by the wilds, and the scent of the working mares around him drove him into a lovesick madness. You jumped without thinking onto his back, and the animal had tried everything in his power to throw you. Both of you went down when he reared, and landed on your sides when the horse lost footing in the arena.

Instead of a potential stable hand suitor rushing to your side to help, your father corralled the stallion, and it was Mother Lucilla who appeared with her maid Leta when she heard your cries of agony. Leta scolded you with a clicking of her tongue as she hauled you up, and your mother’s deep contralto barked out as she gave you a verbal lashing.

“What were you thinking?! Moronic child! Preposterous piss-ant! Behaving as though I’ve never taught you sense! You could have broken your neck, you could have been killed! Foolishness!”

While you were carted back to the house in a lectus, you could hear the young stable hands laughing at your idiocy. Doubled over, they slapped at their bare knees and mimicked your cries and moans of pain in high pitched voices. Baiting, ugly, almost sexual sounding cries, they laughed and hooted until chastised back into their duties by your father’s hard gaze.

The old stable master had yet again approached your father, begging Acacius to do something about these repeated infractions.

“General! With all due respect, your daughter is a nuisance, a menace to my animals and to society! The horse may be ruined because of her stupidity.”

“She is only a child…”

“Does she not count nineteen years, General?! She is more than old enough to be wed, certainly old enough to know better. Perhaps it would do her some good to marry a man of advanced age and wisdom, surely he would straighten out her insolence with a sound beating!”

Even though the war horses were your favorite creatures in all the land, never again would you enter your father’s stables. Far too much embarrassment had cowed you, and you feared that if you made just one more misstep with his animals, that this time your father really would punish you rather than make excuses. Acacius had been cross this time, inflexible with your punishment. Under threat of a good thrashing by your mother, you were not to leave the domus, nor were you allowed to breach even the threshold of the atrium for any excuse. Never in your life had you seen your father so angry…

For a moment you were afraid. Afraid that this time, he would listen to the advice of those he trusted, and ship you off to some shriveled old man who would break your spirit.

You stayed put in your bed as your mother and her maid bathed your wounds and stood by as you recovered. When you began to grow restless, your impotent begging for mercy from hateful Mother Lucilla earned you a few moments alone in the hortus.

You loved the hortus. It was a grand design of your late mother’s creation, consisting entirely of things which were either medicinal or able to be used in various dishes. This time of the year it would be awash with a rainbow of perfumed shrubbery; the marigolds and roses would be in bloom with the purple lavender, interspersed liberally with chamomile and pansy, and you could preoccupy yourself with endlessly plucking blossoms to savor the taste. The peppery marigolds and aromatic rose petals were the taste of summer, a comfort whenever you were distressed.

This task could be accomplished alone, leaving you to ruminate on your embarrassment. Settling against a marble bench near the laurel tree, you lay reclined, with legs splayed on either side of the seat as you chewed the petals on a marigold blossom.

There was no one to stop you. Lucilla’s impatience and eye for meticulous detail were soon distracted by matters of the home. With strict instruction to stay put until she came to fetch you, she departed to attend her responsibilities among the servants in preparation for Acacius’s departure. There was food to be purchased and stored beforehand, monetary affairs to settle, as well as a thousand different things to consider for the duration of the General’s campaign. Certainly no time to devote fully to a rambunctious youth who paced the length of the gardens, limping the entire way.

You could hardly imagine it. In a week’s time, your father would be gone for nearly half a year…

The thought was almost frightening and would have put you in your sickbed, had not you already gone to great lengths to harden your heart. This was nothing at all new. Acacius had left often before when you were young, hence why he’d married Lucilla. The marriage was one of mutual benefit: you would have someone to care for you besides your late mother’s selected wet nurse, and Lucilla would have a child of her own to love and raise, a comfor to her heart for the one she’d lost.

You loved Lucilla. But the thought of losing your father, your last biological connection, and being left alone in the world still frightened you. There was always a chance that this would be the one time Acacius wouldn’t come back— and you wished that the emperors would stop sending your father away.

When Acacius left the domus, the mood of the home became sullen. Prayer was ceaselessly carried out in the lararium. Tithes, incense, and blood libations offered to the gods were overseen by your mother, and she could be gone for hours at a time at temple while you stayed behind in your cubiculum.

When at last you tired of eating flowers, you began carelessly scattering blood red rose petals into your mother’s font filled with carp while asking questions of Venus. You were imagining her responses, looking for her answers taking shape in the patterns the petals made in the water, when you heard mad giggling from behind a pillar towards the domus’ portico.

Whipping around, you looked for the source, eyes widening at the unfamiliar sound.

The giggle increased, and you could see wine colored silken damask dart behind a marble column.

What in the name of the gods was that?!

Nymph? Genius loci? One of the marble gods from the lararium— a statuette— come to life to play with you? You weren’t sure, but your heart was racing, breathing staccato as you crept closer to find out.

The scraping of leather sandals against marble could be heard when you approached. Heavy footed and a little clumsy: the perpetrator moved opposite you. You veered to the left, he to the right.

You saw a flash of hair the color of sunset. As well as the smallest glimpse of blue-gray eyes.

Grinning at the game, you decided to go for a feint. The two of you circled the pillar for a time, the high pitched giggling increasing. The giggle drowned out the sound your footsteps made when you doubled back around the pillar, laying hands on the shoulders of the intruder.

“Caught you!” You sing-songed.

He screeched, his ringed hands covering his face, and you both toppled out of the portico into the grass.

“I caught you!” You cried out again, as you leaned down to pull his hands away from his flushed face.

“You did not! Liar! I was hunting you for sport.” Exclaimed the intruder.

“You aren’t supposed to giggle when chasing your quarry.” You smiled, finally yanking his wrists apart and holding them.

“Liar! You lie! No you didn’t!”

You loved the way the man’s face turned rose pink across pock marked cheeks, his aquiline nose scrunching in anger.

“The laughter was a tactoc… um… A tac… it was an idea of my own design to catch you unawares!”

“Fool!” You smiled, keeping his wrists in a secured hold.

Quickly you rolled off of the interloper when he attempted to knee you between your legs, not knowing who he was or what he was doing snooping in the hortus. He must have been some sort of benevolent spirit sent by the gods. Perhaps even one in disguise, for he was certainly dressed in such opulent finery. Wine colored damask silk with golden zardozi embroidery made his toga picta, with gems of all size and color sewn into the fabric. They caught the sunlight, and the pinpricks of color reflected against your skin.

“You look as if the gods laid your gold and jewels across your neck themselves.” You whistled.

The intruder’s movements were feminine, almost demure. So unlike the more burly movements of generals, or the confident strides of the stable hands. As he sat cross legged, the sound made by the cuffs at his wrists clattering against the gems was captivating. Golden discs the size of libum hung from his ears and chimed with his movements as well.

“You dress like a nymph.” He murmured.

Pert, pink lips parted to allow his tongue to lick across, his smile revealing a single shimmering gold incisor. Surely he must be something otherworldly… you’d never seen someone with a golden tooth before.

“Tell me, nymph, have I stumbled into your secret grove?” He asked.

“No.” You were tickled at the insinuation, “I am no nymph. This is my father’s garden.”

“Your father? That’s not so, this is General Acacius’s garden!”

“General Acacius is my father.”

The intruder shook his head in vehement denial.

“Liar! Lady Lucilla counts forty nine years, and I would have known if she had birthed a child!”

“She is not my blood mother. I counted only three years when my father married her.” You responded, flicking off a half chewed petal from your chin.

Although you knew stories of wicked stepmothers, Lucilla had managed to break the molded stereotype. The first time your father left you alone with her, you bawled like an infant. The good lady had not punished you for your insolence, instead she swept you into her arms and showered your forehead with a thousand kisses.

She was a doting mother, your true mother, the one not of womb but of the heart; who held you and cared for you even when you were insolent.

“And your mother allows you to romp wild in your father’s garden?! To dress like a brothel whore, entertaining strange men?”

The stranger let forth a high pitched giggle, one that made you laugh with him. It was easy to feel inadequate, particularly in the face of such opulence and finery as he wore. The privacy of the garden allowed for leniency in your dress. You had wandered out of your cubiculum in a shrunken, thin, faded green stola that gave a clear view of your bandaged thigh and leg. A mismatched pale pink palla was slung carelessly around your shoulders, and you had long since abandoned your worn out calfskin sandals somewhere in the shrubbery.

“No! I dress like this because I should do as I wish in my own domus. And besides, what would a strange man be doing in my father’s garden to begin with?” You asked, “We were not told of visitors coming.”

“Not all visitors have to announce themselves.” He said haughtily, “Certainly not one as important as myself!”

A fist pounded against his chest in an intimidating boom, the sound reminiscent of a drum.

“Important?” You asked, cocking your head to the side, “Are you a messenger of some sort?”

Your nursemaid and her chatterbox daughter often told you stories of such divine messengers. Half asleep with daydreaming, you would sit at your window as your nurse embroidered crisp linens with geometric patterns, telling stories about Mercury— Hermâs she called him, in the language of the Hellenes— and his wily ways of bestowing divine fortunes and boons upon unsuspecting persons.

“Perhaps I am— a god’s messenger— in my divine disguise…!” exclaimed your stranger.

Your eyes were sparkling. Innocent and sweet.

“Truly?” You asked, crawling to him on all fours. Blissfully unaware of the sensuality in such a movement.

“Indeed. I am a bearer, a messenger, sent by Jupiter himself.” He said, his eyes trained lower on your body, “And I come bearing a secret, strictly for the young flower that hides in her father’s garden.”

“What message have you come to give me?” You asked.

“This divine message is for your ear alone.” He said, his voice lowering to a conspirator’s whisper, “Keep it secret, keep it safe. The gods have deemed you worthy of a special gift, but should you spoil the secret, they will take it away and rain down lighting from the west upon your house!”

“How wonderful!” You exclaimed, your excitement masking the fear of the stranger’s thinly veiled curse, “I’ve never had a message of my very own before!”

“Well then, prepare to be blessed, sweet one. For this message is for your ears alone… Come to my knee, let me whisper it to you.”

You sat upon his lap as he beckoned, nodding enthusiastically and sighing, holding both hands to your cheeks. The stranger leaned closer, cupping his hands over your ear as his lips grazed the shell.

“The gods have great plans for you.” He breathed.

A gasp of delight escaped you, enjoying the fact that your mystery messenger was so close. Whispering sweetness into your ear.

“The gods have told me you are to be given everything your heart desires, my beautiful nymph.” He said, “You will be the envy of all: walking marbled halls while draped in damask silks, vibrant jewels, and gossamer. Your name whispered in reverent prayer upon the tongue of the thousands who will see you in the imperator’s box at the colosseum-…”

“How would this be possible?” You interrupted softly, “I’ve never been outside of these walls, let alone in the palace.”

“You dare to question your divine messenger?! Do not underestimate the might of the gods, nymph. They can make anything so.”

He held your chin in his hand, the softness of his fingertips contrasting the tight grip he maintained, as if expecting you to try and get away.

“They can elevate you to a princess— no! To an empress, if they so desire. The gods wish to use you as their instrument, and they desire to give you everything you could ever want. Money, luxury, power, wine, sexual pleasure…”

“And… and how soon would this happen?” You asked softly.

“Very soon, my sweet one. Your time will come on the first day of the month of Juno, matter of fact.”

It felt so impossibly far away. Too far to even consider. But the fact that such an exciting blessing was to be bestowed during the month of weddings eluded you.

You bounced in excitement on his lap, his hands immediately reaching out to hold your hips steady. Hissing at the pain as he pressed your bruise, you attempted to re-adjust yourself when you felt something press against your inner thigh.

“What in the name of the gods is that?! It… it feels as though you’ve a dagger strapped to your leg.” You said, grinding your thigh against the protrusion.

The messenger froze, and his cheeks turned crimson. A large, impish grin spread from ear to ear, catlike, as if he was preparing to steal a morsel.

“Undo the belt at my tunic, and find out what it may be.” He said, breathless, a perverse look in his eye.

With an impatient huff, you almost rent the damask fabric of his robes in two, demanding that your messenger help you…

But the calling of your mother interrupted the overwhelming need to see what he had strapped to his leg.

“Oh…!” You sighed, a puff of breath escaping past your lips, “I have to go. I’m sorry, but thank you! Thank you for bringing me this message! Tell the gods I will accept this blessing and that I am most thankful to them, and to the messenger who told this to me!”

Before the messenger could protest, you quickly kissed both of his cheeks, scrambling to your feet as you ran off towards the house. As you approached your mother, running breathlessly up to her, you noticed something odd. It appeared as though her heart was racing, almost as if Lucilla was agitated

“What is it, mother?” You asked, out of breath.

Servants were darting every which way, making preparations to feed their guests and make the house presentable. Leta— your mother’s servant— was ordering the others to set the domus to rights, and you were shocked when Lucilla glowered at your unkempt visage.

“What have you been doing?!” Lucilla exclaimed, brushing leaves and petals off your stola, “I allowed you to take a walk, not roll in the shrubbery— is this a stain?!”

“What is this fuss mother…?” You attempted, but your words were stopped by Leta turning your head to look at you.

“My lady, shall I clean your daughter and dress her in the damask?” Asked the handmaiden.

“Yes, quickly! Make sure she is presentable.”

“What’s going on?!” You squeaked, both women taking you by an arm and leading you away like a prisoner to your cubiculum.

“We have been… graced, by the presence of the twin imperators—…”

“THE EMPERORS?!”

“Hush! Yes, the imperators, my darling. You will not speak out of turn again. You will smile and say little more than a polite greeting, after which we shall keep you in your cubiculum, and pray to the gods that you are spared from the lechery of men…”

Lucilla gave you no room to fret, nor to protest. She instead lead you away, to dress you in her armor of modest silk layers and a thick palla.

All the while, you could not stop thinking of the messenger’s promises.

Luxury…

Wine…

Sexual pleasure…

Unannounced guests and the multitude of problems they brought with them hardly made an impression upon your mind, not when there were such wonderful boons coming your way. All divinely ordained, draped like a zardozi embroidered sheet over the hidden evils of the machinations at hand.

In your ignorance, you believed in the lies of the powerful. Blindly trusting in your place as the chosen of the gods, and feeling the least bit better than at last, your worthiness was recognized.

“Caracalla, what in the name of the gods are you doing…?”

The stern tone of his brother, Geta, interrupted his moment of thoughtfulness as Caracalla watched his nymph run back to the house. His brother was scheming, his giggling increasing to a fever pitch, and Geta raised an eyebrow as Caracalla pointed to the home.

“Enjoying the touch and warmth of a beautiful nymph.” Caracalla beamed.

“… a nymph…” Geta deadpanned.

“Indeed. Simple and pure, with a supple breast-…”

“There are no nymphs in a general’s garden.”

“There are!” Caracalla argued.

“You are mistaken. For I only saw a pauper run from you. What have I told you of infecting the inferiors of other men’s houses? You will deplete Rome of slaves with your appetites.” Geta groused.

“This one was no slave! She is Lucilla’s daughter.” Caracalla snapped.

“The general and Lucilla have no daughters.” Geta said.

“Oh but they do, brother! Acacius hides this charming rose in his garden, away from the eyes of men.”

“Is not Lucilla past the age of childbearing?”

“His seed must have overcome that obstacle.” Cackled Caracalla, “For he has quite the lovely young spawn. Very innocent, and eager to believe every word from my lips.”

“What schemes do you invent in that empty head of yours…?” Geta asked, although he knew the answer already. He could see Caracalla’s maddened mind already concocting the most convoluted, outrageous ideas; the grey blue of his iris overtaken by dilating black pupils.

“Do not tell me…” Geta grinned wickedly.

“You know me so well.” Caracalla smiled, “It is a simple thing, really. Turning nymphs into empresses…”

Geta laughed out loud at his brother’s plotting.

“And how much would you ask for her?”

“Two million denarii!”

“Charity, brother, charity...” Geta laughed, “Acacius is a general after all, not a nobleman. Keep your dowry request under one hundred thousand denarii, or you shall never have her.”

“Only one hundred thousand?!”

“Yes, brother. To be paid in coin, land, or flesh, in the customary three years time-… Well… No, no. We may extend the dowry installments to five. After all, we are sending him away to fight your campaign in Numidia. He will need some time. You’ll want to wed her and bed her before he leaves as well.”

“I would have preferred the two million…” pouted Caracalla.

“Whatever for? The money is of little consequence. You would only piss away two million on whores, and her father would sooner give her away to someone else. This conquest will be far more simple, exercise your power and will it so. I shall give my blessing as the arrangement is not without benefits.”

When Caracalla’s feverish mind could not connect the dots, Geta prompted him.

“She is Lucilla’s legitimate heir. Marry her daughter, and you secure not only the title, but a closer position to the good lady herself… Slake your thirst for flesh with both this nubile creature’s affections, and with the attentions of her comely mother as well.”

[raffe156]

HEYYY!!!

I WILL LITERALLY BEG FOR THIS🙏

A Brat!Reader, Gentle Dom!Price, Hard dom! Ghost or König

I BEEN ALL WEEK THINKING ABT IT

Im sorry this took sooooo long!!

It’s a quickie but I hope you like it ☺️

Paring: Price x fReader x Ghost

Warnings :NSFW MDNI,female Brat reader, Hard Dom Ghost, Soft Dom Price I’ve not got them troupes down to a T yet but you get the idea💖

✨⛺️ Camp out Drabble coming soon!⛺️✨

“Told you not to wind him up today didn’t I?” Price cupped your face in his hand. He was gentle, Ghost on the other hand was brutal, he wasn’t in the mood for your attitude hadn’t been all day that’s why you were now bent over the small table in the cramped gear room, loose bullets rolling off as Ghost thrust deep into you over and over. He looped his huge hand under the shoulder strap of your tact vest to bounce you back into his thrust. The sound of his flesh slapping against yours echoed through the room.

Ghost hunched over you, his mass pushing you down onto the table still thrusting relentlessly into you. You were positive you heard the table creak under the pressure.

“Not got much to say now have you eh? All day you’ve been baiting me…your snarky little comments and cocky attitude got you where you are right now…next time you mouth off I might just fuck you right infront of the entire base…like the little shit that you are” He was right next to your ear his breath hot on your neck and face.

You couldn’t help the smirk, you knew you had annoyed him today, pushed your luck too far. Price clocked you smirking.

“An you were doing so well…” he chuckled, this caught Ghost’s attention.

“What you fucking smirking at?” He growled as he snapped you back upright by your vest, with the height difference and the new angle he knew his cock would be bulging inside you, pushing your wall. He was already fully buried inside you, but he liked to see you squirm.

“FUCK!” You gasped trying to perch your knee up on the table to lift yourself up.

“Not smirking now…are you?” Ghost was taunting you but this new angle had caused your to constrict around him and with each heavy thrust he was getting closer. You could feel him in the pit of your stomach.

“Such a…fucking little slut for your CO’s…aren’t yah? He was gritting his teeth as he slammed home into you. Your tact vest still firmly in his grasp. He was almost holding you up by it. He pushed you back down onto the table, his hips slamming into you frantically you couldn’t keep up, you broke , your whines drowned out by his guttural groans, you felt him inside you now slow, warm, lazy. All the frustration leaving his body his muscles relaxing his jaw unclenched.

Price had made his way around the table to you, he had to pat Ghost on the shoulder to get him up off you. As he did so you felt him slide out of you slowly.

“Good lad…” Price smiled as Ghost backed away from you not before he took a look at his handy work, the backs of your legs were red from the friction burn from his jeans, even little teeth marks from were his zipper had pressed into your skin. He was almost proud of himself.

“Easy does it,” Price helped you up, making sure your feet were grounded. He turned you round to face him.

“You still with us kid?” He chuckled, you could feel your eyes rolling, lids heavy, head wanting to lull back. Ghost always fucked you silly, it was like his signature move. Prick.

“Yeh, I’m still with you Sir…” you smiled at Price showing him you could stand on your own, just. Ghost scoffed. Elton johns ‘I’m still standing’ played in your head as your smirked again at your Lieutenant. Price nodded, a little smirk of his own hidden under his tash. Your attitude always amused him. Price lifted you onto the table an positioned himself between your legs.

He cupped your jaw, commanding your full attention, which you almost always gave.

“You gonna be a good girl for me this time love?” His eyes were soft but the blue of them told you not to mess him about. You nodded. He smiled.

You both watched as he pulled his dick out of his pants it was rock hard, already dripping from the top, he swiped the head of it across your centre, lightly tapping it on your opening. He was teasing you. You edged your hips forward, it almost slipped in. He pulled back.

“Ahh, you said you were going to be a good girl…don’t be so impatient or I will make you wait like I did last time…” he grinned.

You eased up, leaning back on your hands, legs spread wider.

“Sorry, Captain…” your clearly insincere apology made his nostrils flare. God you could play him. He smirked and with no warning and one stroke he was in, even after Ghost it was still a tight fit, both men were bigger than average but Price was wider, he buried inside you differently. You wanted to throw yourself backwards onto the table, open yourself up to him, but Price pulled you in tight to him, throwing you arms around his neck. His grip firmly on your backside almost lifting you off the table. His thrusts rough and slow. The coil inside your belly wound itself tighter and tighter with each thrust.

You wrapped your legs around him tight, crossing your ankles.

“Fuck…that’s it…” Price grunted.

His mouth found yours open an wet. Your tongues packed together. His paced picked up, his hips slamming into you. And for the second time you broke open, panting your Captains name as you buried your face into his neck.

“Good…girl..fuck…” you felt his hips stuttered as he came inside you.

Price held you to him a little bit longer only easing up once your heart had slowed. You were still tucked under his chin.

“You ok?…” Ghost stood to the side of Price he brushed your hair out of your face, you clocked the small towel in his other hand. It was only after sex that he was gentle, you didn’t mind. In the afterglow you both behaved.

“Come to clean up your mess Lt?” Your grinned. Ghost growled, he knew it wouldn’t last long. It never did.

Price chuckled.

“What we gonna do with you eh?”

[thegnomelord]

Got an idea for prompt #20. Ghost, Price and male reader for monster au with reader wanting to try giving up control for once

Sure thing mate! I kinda got ahead of myself lol. Play the game HERE.

Prompt: Trusting enough to give up control

CW: NSFW, Dom dragon Price, Switch wraith Ghost, Sub male mage Reader, Monster au, collars, blowjobs, Dom/Sub, praise kink.

You don't have a right to feel apprehensive; you suggested this after all, but your fingers tremble as you trace the leather inscribed with anti-magic runes. The collar should feel comfortable around your neck, you know because you touched the leather a thousand times before even humoring the idea of putting it on... but the idea of being without magic — completely defenseless — arouses and scares the shit out of you.

A blackened hand grips your jaw almost too tenderly, tilting your head up so you meet Simon's gaze. "Havin' second thoughts?" He presses closer to you until he's bullied his way between your legs with his knees spreading your own, boxers retaining all of your modesties for now.

You give a small sound, neither confirming nor denying. It earns you a weak slap to the inner thigh from Price's tail, his chest and your back fitting together like puzzle pieces. "There's no shame in backing out." He purrs, sharp talons gently massaging the sting out of your thigh while his tail curls around your shin. "But we need you to be vocal lad-" He takes the collar from your hand, "-do you want this?"

"Get on with it." You snap before you can chicken out, breathing in to calm your nerves. "...please."

The last word has Price rewarding you by groping your cock. "Good boy," Simon looks at him for permission, his lips sealing over yours to swallow your groan as soon as it's given. Your teeth click together, his kisses always so aggressive and demanding that you almost forget about the collar until you feel the cold buckle against your skin.

The effect is immediate; an unpleasant jolt rushes down your spine to flood every vertebrae with a bone gnawing cold, a heavy fog settling over a portion of your mind. The leather puts resistance on your throat as you breathe as if to mock you for your choice, reminding of how weak you are, how useless-

Price places a gentle kiss on your cheek, his beard tickling your skin and claws carding through your hair. "Color?"

Simon's hands grope your sides, the collar turning even the wraith's freezing hands blessedly warm. "Go on, use that pretty mind for us." He orders in a gruffer voice, his lips still close to yours.

"Green," You suck in a small breathe, goosebumps spreading across your skin. "Just cold."

Simon presses even closer to you, burning lips taking your breath away so he can nibble on your lip. "Can't have that, can we Captain?" He smirks, ignoring you to look at Price. "'specially when our boy's being so docile."

"'s that so?" You notice how Price keeps a possessive hand over your throat, one finger hooked underneath the collar. "D'you think you've earned a reward?" He asks, his other hand tracing down your front to play with the band of your boxers.

"Please." The word escapes your throat before your mind can even finish processing the question.

"Good boy," Prices loves the way you shiver, loves the sight of you so open and vulnerable just for them; he catches Simon licking his lips. "Go on then Simon," His hand slides beneath your boxers to push the band down until your cock springs out. "'m sure you're hungry." Just seeing your rock hard cock throb when he swipes his roughly scared thumb across the head has Price's own dick go hard.

"I'm not the only one." Simon rumbles and bites your collarbone, leaving a trail of dark hickeys and teeth imprints across your front until he's face to face with your aching cock. "Fuck, such an adorable thing." He growls against the meat of your thigh, biting you there just so he can see a drop of pre-cum bead atop your cock head. "Should keep a collar 'round your neck all the time so you can be pretty and pliant for us."

"Simon-" The width of his shoulders and Price's tail around your shin keeps you from closing your legs, embarrassment making your cheeks burn hot. "-you fucker," You growl and attempt to grab his hair so you can get his mouth where you need it.

You yelp when Price slaps your cock with his tail, pain and pleasure flaring up your spine. "None of that." Price growls, keeping a hand on your collar and pinning your hands to your stomach with the other. "Play nice-" His eyes shift to Simon's. "-both of you."

"Yes sir." Simon relents, grabbing a hold of your cock your eyes close as he licks from your base to the tip of your cock. A little squeeze of Price's hand has your eyes snapping open just in time to see Simon's monstrously long tongue loll out of his mouth, wrapping and stroking your shaft as he suckles your head, drool and your pre-cum staining his chin.

"Good boys." Price rumbles as your head falls back on his shoulder, barely able to keep your eyes open as Simon sucks you like a trained whore, leaving fingerprint bruises while he holds your hips down from bucking. "Simon feels good, doesn't he?" You nod your head, hissing when Simon suddenly swallows you down to the base; Wraiths don't need to breathe and Simon takes full advantage of that fact by swallowing around you, hot throat spasming and long tongue stroking the sensitive veins along your cock.

"Go on sweetheart." Price nibbles on your ear as you shake and try not to cum quickly like a teenager but it's a loosing battle, Simon's hot mouth and the dark look he gives as he stares at you has you tumbling towards orgasm faster than anything else. "No need to hold on." He lets go off your hands to push Simon's head even further down on your cock, until your tip's pocking the back of his throat.

Price's permission is all it takes, the building heat in your stomach spilling over the sides as you cum, your hips uselessly bucking against Simon's hold as you cum down his throat. Simon doesn't even choke, throat constricting and milking you for all you have, continuing to suckle until you grow soft in his mouth.

You're barely lucid when Simon finally pulls off, cum and drool bridging his lips with the tip of your cock, your body completely boneless but still able to twitch as Simon licks the residual cum from your oversensitive dick.

"Good boy." Price praises and you can feel his own hard cock poke into your ass. "I think he can go again, don't you, Simon?"

Simon smirks and raises to give you a sloppy kiss, your brain too melted into mush to care about the taste of your cum on his tongue. "Oh-" Simon's hand sneaks down to stroke your soft cock back to harness, ignoring your pitiful whining. "-I think he can."

[lipglossanon]

And Now For Something Completely Different

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The Merchant x fem!reader (one shot)

Such a random thought I had and quickly wrote out while I made coffee lmao so have this total and complete one off from my normal 🫣 please don’t expect more from me 🤣 also have a screenshot I took cause I thought he looked cute 😉

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, unprotected sex, creampie, slight dirty talk? 😆

not proofread or even looked over lmao ✌️

Title pulled from Monty Python 😜

part ii

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“I’ve got something that might interest ya,” the strange man murmurs as you step up to the rickety table. 

The purple flame‘s the only light source in the area casting strange shadows on the walls and across the man calling himself the merchant. 

You pull out the few rubies you were able to scrounge out of some old barrel and hold them out to him, “Is this enough to get an upgrade and a first aid spray?”

His dark eyes look down at your palm and back up to your face, “Well no stranga, I can do one or the other, but I’m afraid it’s not enough cash for both.”

You slump in on yourself, exhaustion writ all over your features as you sigh, “I’ll take the first aid then.”

He hands you the aerosol can with one hand as you drop the rubies in his other. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him, genuine and warm, “next time hopefully I can swing that handgun upgrade.”

He hums at you, watching underneath the hood as you pocket the first aid and double check your pockets to see if there’s anything else worth trading. 

“I wonder if you might be interested in less acceptable means of trade?”

You attention moves from your pockets up to him leaning against the table, shadow looming into your space. 

“Sure, I need all the help I can get.”

⊰❀⊱

“Oh oh my god,” you gasp, eyes rolling back as his cock bullies its way into your fluttering walls. 

He has you pinned down, back on the table he set up, and legs parted as he fucks into your wet and willing pussy. 

“What a lovely cunt,” he chuckles down at you, face still covered making you clamp down harder on his dick, “haven’t felt something this warm in a long time, stranger.”

“Mmm it s’good,” you whine, letting him push your knees up to your chest so he can plunge his cock in your pussy even deeper, “gonna make me cum so fast.”

“It’d be such a shame to end our fun so soon, love,” he groans, slowly rutting his fat cock into your clenching pussy and grinding against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt. 

Your eyes flutter shut and he smacks your swollen clit with his hand making you writhe under him.

“W-what’re you—“ a keening mewl leaves your lips as he slaps your pudgy clit again. 

“Behave, let me take my fill and I’ll give you what you need,” he laughs, “not a bad deal eh?”

You shake your head no as you gasp and moan. He rocks himself in and out of your pussy, never fully pulling out so you’re constantly stretched around his thick cock. The tip knocks against your cervix every time he bottoms out making you claw at his chest weakly, powerless as a kitten, too overwhelmed with pleasure to do anything but take it. 

“Bigger is better or so they say. At least I thought so as a lad,” he huffs with a laugh, burying himself so deep that his tip is grinding against your womb making you wail and thrash under his heavy body. 

“Shh, shh, you must take it, love,” he grits out, holding you down as he bruises your cervix, “let me give you what you need.”

“I-I need your mouth,” you gasp out, eyes wet with tears, “kiss me, please, sir, I—“

He yanks his mask down but before you get a good look a wet hungry mouth is kissing your greedily. One of his hands comes up to cover your eyes once he pulls back to catch his breath. 

“Such a sweet little thing,” he noses at your cheek and you can feel the grin on his mouth, “calling me sir like I’m some posh gent.”

He licks across your jaw and his tongue feels—odd, tapered but before you can process anything else he’s licking into your mouth again. 

You whine and suck on his tongue eagerly, rocking your hips down into his slow, punishing thrusts. You whimper when he pulls away and only quiet when he kisses you again, pressing his tongue deep into your mouth making you moan. 

You can feel how different his tongue is compared to yours and it makes your pussy gush slick around his thrusting cock. 

He pulls away with a hum of amusement, “You sure do enjoy that. Like my tongue, stranger? Like imagining it in other hot wet little holes?”

Your spine arches as you cry out, “O-oh god.” 

He finally uncovers your eyes but his mask is back firmly in place. You look into his eyes and see the corners are crinkled as he laughs at you. 

“Sorry to disappoint,” his hands shift down to your hips to pull you tighter to him, “but I’m pretty close to filling your lovely little cunt full.”

“Please,” you whine, hands scratching at the rough material of his cloak, “want it, please cum inside me.”

“Hell,” he groans, hips rabbiting into your squelching cunt making the table slide with his movements. 

“Touch yourself,” he directs you, “play with that slippery clit for me, love.”

You quickly listen to him, fingers moving to circle the swollen bud until your thighs are tensing and toes curling as the band of arousal snaps in your belly. 

“Fuck, I’m cumming oh—“ your back bows as you moan loudly, pussy milking his cock as he keeps fucking into your clenching walls. 

“That’s it,” he grunts, snapping his hips even harder against you until he burrows himself deep in your pussy. 

You feel the warmth of his hot cum paint your walls white as his dick fills you with rope after rope of sticky jizz. He yanks you even closer somehow as his cock kicks and throbs against your pulsing walls, tip spurting the last of his cum inside of you. You watch as he slowly pulls out, creamy slick and cum oozing from his drippy tip as it spills from your well used hole. 

“I’d say that’s a deal well struck,” his eyes seem to gleam down at you as he helps you up to redress. 

His cum is still oozing inside the gusset of your panties as you watch him quickly tinker with your handgun before giving you back your now upgraded weapon. 

He winks at you, “See you soon, stranger.”

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚂

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘

description: In which lauren james's girlfriend is not a chelsea supporter but after such a good game, how can she not give lauren a treat for her work?

smut

minors dni

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lauren james x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously.

warnings: language, smut, no under 18's lads, spanking, rough, slightly dom lauren, fluff, nude taking, fingering, cunnilingus, thigh riding, strap fucking (i think that is it??)

MINORS DNI

NO UNDER 18’s

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y/n waited painfully for Lauren to join her in their bedroom, the harsh feel of the black lace fabric was hardly noticeable as she waited patiently.

Lauren finally appeared eyes directed to the floor as she opened the door and turned to lock it, not looking toward her lover who was knelt patiently on the bed.

"Right baby." Lauren began as she looked up, but all words died in her throat at the sigh staring back at her.

"I thought you deserved a reward for how well you did today." y/n smiled softly, biting her plump bottom lip. "Though don't get used to it." She added.

Lauren gulped, her mind running wild on how to permanently stick her Chelsea shirt to her lover's body. She'd always looked great in blue y/n, but right now she looked fantastic.

"Turn around." Lauren said, moving closer to the bed. y/n did as she was told, turning so Lauren could see the letters of her last name which were marking her back.

Lauren groaned, her mind running wild with a primitive need to mark her lover in her shirt. Lauren's hand found her lover's back and she pushed her forward y/n landing on her hands and knees.

"Dreamed about this." Lauren sighs, her hand pushing the bottom of the shirt up so y/n's ass was now bare in the air, the lace thong doing nothing to protect the skin from the lazy slap Lauren laid on it.

y/n whimpered, having not expected the slap and jolted. Lauren repeated her slap once more, this one having more force behind it and she did it a third time, a red hand-print now appearing on the soft skin.

Lauren groaned at the sight and lent back, the sound of the polaroid camera clicking and a flash echoed around the room. y/n rolled her eyes as she looked back at Lauren who sent her a cheeky wink.

The footballer took the printing polaroid and left it on the bedside table, the photo of her lover in her shirt and her handprint on her ass slowly developing.

"Get down." Lauren said, pushing y/n's upper back down so her chest was flush into the mattress but she was still on her knees which were on the edge of the bed.

Lauren pulled the shirt tight, so the lettering of her name was clear as she drilled her hips into her lover from behind, just the strength and pressure making y/n gasp, despite the lack of friction she got from it.

Lauren snapped another photo, her lover's back slightly arched from her thrusts, her name so obviously visible as she placed the photo down on the table.

Lauren let go of y/n, pushing her slightly as she stripped her joggers off and sat back against the headboard and gestured for her lover to come closer.

y/n situated herself on one of Lauren's thighs, straddling it with folded legs as she knelt either side. Lauren slid her hand up to her lover's neck, taking it in her hand and squeezing until her lover wheezed.

At the noise, Lauren raised the camera and clicked, the frame having her hand, her lover's neck and the Chelsea badge inside in, y/n's bottom lip just visible at the top.

y/n took the photo and placed it on the side as Lauren loosened her grip and began to stroke the skin of y/n's neck, she pulled the girl down and connected their lips softly.

"You okay?" Lauren asked, making sure her lover was okay with all that had happened and would continue to.

"Yeah baby." y/n said lovingly, her hand running down Lauren's face so she could bring their lips back together. Lauren sucked y/n's plump bottom lip into her mouth, sinking her teeth into it.

y/n moaned at the bite, hips bucking against her lover's thigh, damp slick coating the skin as Lauren pulled from her lover's lip with a soft pop, the indent of her teeth making her groan.

Lauren's hand slid down, taking one of y/n's boobs in her hand over the Chelsea top. She took another photo before moving the hem of the top into y/n's mouth, exposing her lace clad chest to the air.

"You keep that in there no matter what, okay?" Lauren whispered to y/n, pushing more fabric into her mouth as y/n nodded. Lauren took a photo of the sight in front of her, the black lace being pushed against by her lover's full chest.

Lauren placed the photo on the side once more before pulling one of the lace cups down, sliding the strap as best she could down. y/n realised it was stuck and slide her arm from the arm of the shirt so the strap could slide off before she got back into the shirt.

Lauren pinched at the nipple which sat perked in front of her and the muffle groan of y/n could have made Lauren cum right there and then.

Lauren bent her head down and quickly sucked y/n's tit into her mouth as best she could. She used her tongue to circle the erect nipple as she continued to suck, teeth digging in, not that she minded.

y/n's hand landed on Lauren's neck, keeping her lover pushed against her chest as Lauren moved to suck a deep hickey into the underside of her boob.

While Lauren's mouth continued, her fingers came back up to pinch and twist at y/n's wet nipple, the girl's head thrown back as she groaned in pleasure.

Lauren pulled away proud of the darkening mark on her lover’s skin and she sucked once more on her hard nipple.

“Can I?” Lauren whispered, hand holding the camera and y/n nodded, Lauren quickly snapping the bra in half before taking the photo.

“Lauren.” y/n whined as Lauren placed the photo of her tits on the side.

“I’ll buy you a new one baby.” Lauren says without care as she leaned into her lover’s other breast and quickly took it into her mouth.

At the feeling of Lauren's rough tongue around her other nipple and her fingers stimulating her other slick tit, y/n gasped and bucked her hips against Lauren's muscled thigh.

"That's it baby." Lauren muttered. "You be good and get yourself off first." She continued before going back to marking y/n's chest.

y/n nodded her head, her hands gripping at Lauren's shoulders as she began to roll her hips against Lauren's thigh. The feeling was pure ecstasy.

The rough feel of the lace caught her clit as Lauren's spare hand went around y/n's body and pulled the top of the thong up to pull the lace taught against her lover.

"Lauren." y/n breathed, trying to keep the shirt between her teeth, not sure what she was asking as Lauren chuckled, the noise muffled from the tit in her mouth.

Lauren seemingly knew what her lover needed and tensed her thigh, the muscles budlging into y/n and causing the girl to speed up her thrusts to chase the high.

"Come on baby, show me what you got." Lauren whispered, her mouth switching back to the other tit as her fingers pinched at the other wet nipple.

y/n's groans became breathier and Lauren bit down harshly on her lover's breast, a wash of relief flushing through her as her orgasm shook her.

"That's it." Lauren cooed, almost mockingly as she let y/n work herself down. y/n let the soaked top out from her teeth and pawed at her lover's chest.

"Lauren." y/n whined, and Lauren lent up pecking her lips.

"What baby?" Lauren asked quietly as y/n continued to paw at her.

"Wanna taste you." y/n whined again and Lauren groaned, finding the sound so attractive. Lauren nodded, kissing y/n quickly.

"Okay, want you in the position though." Lauren told her and y/n sighed in relief from the fact she could finally taste the craving she had and the fact she hand a brief restpite from orgasming which she was sure would be happening more than once tonight.

y/n knew what Lauren wanted so stood up as Lauren rid herself of her underwear and y/n took the other half of her broken bra off.

Lauren sat back down, spreading her legs out as y/n crawled onto the bed, fixing the Chelsea shirt back on. y/n opened her legs, hooking either ankle over Lauren's and lent down.

y/n had always been gifted with loose hips and because of that, Lauren's favourite view while being eaten out was her, box splitting, because it meant her ass was in full view.

y/n was in desperate need to taste her dripping girlfriend and pushed forward to flattening her tongue through Lauren's folds which resulted in a low groan.

"Top above your ass baby." Lauren said between groans as y/n's tongue licked through her constantly.

y/n did as told and lifted the bottom of the shirt above her ass so it was in full view, and the sound of the camera going off once more echoed the room.

For a moment, the only noises in the room were the sound of y/n's rapidly moving tongue against Lauren's sensitive clit and the breathy groans of the footballer herself.

Eventually y/n's tongue dipped into Lauren's clenching hole and y/n pushed through the tight space and closed her lips so she could suck.

The noise that echeod from Lauren was purely sinful and y/n's hands landed on Lauren's hips and pulled her closer so she could fire her tongue in and out of Lauren's clenching hole.

Lauren called out in shock as y/n ignored the ache which spread over her tongue and jaw. y/n pulled her tongue from Lauren and switched back to her clit.

Lauren's groans became lower in pitch as she grew closer and as y/n's tongue and lips pulled at her clit, all it took was one look down for Lauren to come undone.

The sight of her lover's legs spread, her hips rutting against the sheets in need, her ass in perfect view and Lauren's name shining on her back pulled the orgasm to ripple through her tired body.

y/n worked Lauren down, her tongue slowing it's patterns until Lauren tapped four times at her hand to let her know to sit up.

y/n leaned up, her hip cracking as she did and Lauren chuckled slightly at the noise. She then patted the pillow next to her and y/n crawled up and rested beside her.

"Thank you baby." Lauren hummed, pressing a deep kiss against her lover's lips, her tongue swiping her own taste from y/n's mouth.

y/n smiled softly and Lauren melted as she shifted slightly to sit up and keep her lover pressed into the matress below.

"Wanna have my fingers inside you. That okay?" Lauren asked and y/n nodded, a needy whine leaving her lips.

Lauren chuckled at that and shifted down slightly so she came face to face with the clothed heat of her lover.

Lauren ran her finger over the crotch section and groaned at the wetness which soaked her fingertips as she pulled away.

Lauren slowly pulled the underwear from her lover with her teeth, groaning at the wet shine which covered her lover.

"Would it be okay if I took a photo baby?" Lauren asked softly, her finger slowly circling y/n's clenching hole. y/n paused thinking the question through for a moment.

"Is it okay if you do it from above? So you can only really see your fingers in?" y/n asked softly. Lauren smiled softly, her pointer finger sliding in slowly.

"Of course baby." Lauren said kindly, the camera being passed to her as she slowly worked her finger in and out of y/n who was mewling for more.

Lauren added a second finger, the stretch from it welcome to y/n who moaned in response as Lauren once again slowly built up the pace.

Lauren lent over y/n, taking a photo which showed Lauren's finger's knuckle deep in her lover who was mainly hidden by the Chelsea shirt.

Lauren then placed the camera down and y/n placed the polaroid on the side before a shocked moan was pulled from her throat.

Lauren's fingers hand suddenly sped up, now moving at a much quicker pace, pushing against the spongy spot which was buried deep inside y/n.

The girl moaned loudly as Lauren twisted her wrist, y/n's legs now moving as she tried to grasp reality with the pleasure she was going through. Suddenly Lauren's finger stilled, her knuckles pressed against y/n who whined in need.

"Stop fucking moving." Lauren said lowly, annoyance in her tone. "I give you pleasure, no one else, not even you." Lauren continued huskily.

y/n nodded quickly muttering babbled apologies and begs which caused Lauren to smirk, she began to move her fingers slower, the sudden halt in stimulation dragging a sob from y/n's throat.

"Lauren, please." y/n begged as she gulped air in, the stretch from Lauren's fingers no longer satisfying enough.

"What?" Lauren asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Faster, harder, please." y/n begged, usually Lauren could be cheeky, almost cruel, but as she saw her girlfriend in the shirt she had been dying to see her in, Lauren took pity on her.

Lauren flicked her wrist, speeding up her thrusts and pushing her fingers deep and quick, y/n groaned, covering her mouth in shock as she tried to keep the moans quiet.

"Wanna hear you." Lauren ordered, her eyes never leaving the sight of her fingers drilling deep into her girlfriend.

"Oh my god, ah." y/n moaned and Lauren lent down, her lips closing around y/n's clit before sucking. y/n's back arched as she moaned, trying to control the feel of her body with little success.

"You nearly there?" Lauren asks, knowing the answer easily as she closed her lips back around y/n's sensitive clit.

"Please, please, let me cum, please." y/n begged to Lauren who lifted her face for a moment.

"Whenever you need to baby." Lauren confirmed and y/n cried out a few more times before Lauren's abilities became to much, her body tensing and shaking as she was pushed into her orgasm.

Lauren tongue pushed down, her fingers not slowing down as she aimed to push her girlfriend through a prolonged orgasm, her name becoming a prayer from her lover at that moment.

Lauren slowly slowed her fingers down, the wet noises which were coming from them the only sound in the room as she made sure they were coated before pulling them from her lover and into her mouth.

y/n whined at the emptiness she was now feeling and Lauren hushed her with several light kisses to her lips, y/n's eyes were rolled back, sweat sticking her baby hairs down and her body was still shaking slightly.

Lauren couldn't help but take a photo, y/n being too fucked out to even try and make herself look a little more presentable. Lauren's hand then came down on her, the slap sending waves up her clit and y/n's back arched, Lauren once again snapping a photo.

"That one was mean." y/n gasped out at Lauren who chuckled and set the camera down, placing as kiss on her lover as she fiddled with something.

"Turn over, want you on your knees for my strap." Lauren ordered softly.

"You just want to see your own name you arrogant fuck." y/n denied and Lauren chuckled again though this one was slightly darker, spinning her lover she settled y/n on her knees.

"What did you just call me?" Lauren asked, hands running over y/n's ass once more. y/n seemed to have now realised her mistake and winced as she kept her head looking at the mattress.

y/n went to answer but instead gasped out her lover's name at the intrusion which had now been fully stuffed into her. The fake cock resting deep in her as Lauren's hands squeezed at her ass cheeks.

"What was that?" Lauren asked teasingly, pulling her hips back before pushing the cock back into slowly, making sure y/n could feel every second, every shift.

"Nothing." y/n promised breathlessly, groaning as Lauren's thrusts began to speed up, Lauren letting out a groan of relief as the strap began hitting her just right as well.

"That's what I fucking thought." Lauren breathes, the sound of wet slapping and her hands smacking as she fucked fast were causing y/n to get wetter with each moan.

"Please, please, please." y/n chanted, arching her back as Lauren pushed her shoulders to the bed, her hand squeezing y/n's ass again.

Lauren's thumb was tucked into her mouth for a moment, before it swiped through y/n's dripping folds which caused y/n to shout in pleasure, Lauren then slid her thumb up.

Lauren's thumb was suddenly pushing and twirling y/n's clit the sound of her moans Lauren's reward which built her up even more. Lauren rubbed harder, desperate for her lover's orgasm.

Lauren's hand slid onto y/n's lower stomach, holding her as she watched her own name bounce on y/n's back. Lauren pressed down on y/n's lower stomach, never stopping her fast and hard thrusts.

"You feel me there? Feel how fucking deep I am inside you?" Lauren asks breathlessly. y/n lets out a moan at that nodding her head as she shakes.

"Yeah, I feel you." y/n promises, Lauren grabbing one of her hands and holding it with her own on y/n's lower stomach.

"That's me, that's how deep I am, this is where I belong, deep inside your perfect body, my perfect body." Lauren continues and at her rant, y/n's back arches once more and with another rub at her clit, the coil is ready to burst.

"Let me, please, please." y/n moans out her voice shaky from the force of Lauren's pounds.

"Give it to me, please cum, need it baby." Lauren begs and as y/n's core tightens around Lauren's cock, both lover's fall over the edge, moaning as Lauren slows her thrusts dragging it out as long as possible.

Once the two had recovered, Lauren slightly more than her still dripping lover, Lauren slowly pulled out, apologising softly as her lover whimpered.

"I know baby." Lauren promises, moving to the en-suite to run a bath. When she comes back, y/n is now on her back, legs still shaking as she runs a hand over her face.

Lauren chuckles as she moves over, two fingers swiping through her lover which is responded with a yelp. Lauren sucks her fingers into her mouth, groaning at the taste.

"I'm sorry." Lauren promises her lover, bending down to pick her up and help her into the bath, Chelsea top folded on the side.

Once the two were settled together in the water, and y/n's body had been softly cleaned, their hairs washed, Lauren finally pressed a soft kiss to y/n's neck.

"I think you should wear my Chelsea shirt more often." Lauren hums and despite her tired state, y/n let out a soft laugh, the two standing up and quickly drying themselves.

"I love you Laur." y/n muttered as her lover carried her back over to the bed.

"I love you too baby, now get some sleep, you were so good for me." Lauren promises and y/n nods, folding her body into Lauren's side and clocking out almost instantly.

While y/n slept, Lauren couldn't help but look through all the photos, her eyes rolling at the way they made her heart speed up. Yes, those were a good idea, and she would definitely have something for the next England Camp to keep her occupied.

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END

merry christmas you filthy animals xxx

[typingatlightspeed]

hey if you're still taking requests could you write something about the defense trio having a chill day and hanging out? I need to see them interact more :>

TF2 Fanfic - Alley Cats

Defense goes bowling. Surely there's no way they could get weirdly competitive about that, right?

Ao3 Link!

I hope you enjoy, Bo! :D

---------

The crash of pins scattering and a heavy urethane ball slamming into the back wall of the lane resounded through the bowling alley, quickly followed by the whooping of two men. Several other bowlers looked over in alarm. The attendant working at the front desk spared them a look and a frown, then went back to the novel she was reading.

"Steee-rike!" Engineer cheered, applauding as Heavy walked back from the lane, shaking the pain out of his hand. "Hell of an opener, Big Guy!"

"Fingers hurt," Heavy grumbled, flexing his hand. "Tiny baby ball holes are too small."

"It's the biggest ball with the biggest holes in the whole alley," Demoman chided, pulling his feet down and slowly shoving himself to his feet as the pin setter readied his turn.

"Holes are too small," Heavy insisted with annoyance.

"Explains why you chuck that ball like you caught it fuckin' your sister," Engineer chuckled.

Heavy stared at him, not understanding the comparison. His first response upon catching someone fucking his sister would be to leave the room in a flurry of embarrassment, not to put his fingers in the man and throw him.

With a thump, Heavy's ball was ejected out of the ball return, a scuff on it where it had collided with the back wall.

"Aye, well have a seat and watch a true master at work, then," Demoman bragged, taking hold of his ball and swaggering up to the approach. "Heavy may have the power, but I've the finesse!"

"That what you're callin' it?"

"Laugh all ye like, lad. Right until yer cryin!" With that Demoman took his stance, eyed up his target, and strode to the line with the confidence of a man who had hit the bar immediately upon entering the alley, while his mates handled requesting a lane and shoe rentals.

He wound up and released the ball, his form perfect, his execution flawless. The ball zoomed straight down the lane and collided dead on.

With the ten pin. And nothing else.

His teammates burst into laughter, Heavy slapping his knee and shaking his head as Engineer held his gut in pain from the sheer force of his mirth.

"You were right, Demo! I am cryin'!" Engineer barely managed to say between guffaws, wiping at his eyes which were, indeed, tearing up.

Demoman stood there, sagging, staring down the lane ruefully at that single pin as it spun into the gutter. Apparently the guide dots weren't as helpful in compensating for his single eye as he'd thought. Or he'd misjudged how limp his wrists got once he'd had a few.

He'd never admit that part aloud.

With a snort, he turned on his heel and stalked back to the ball return, pointedly ignoring his companions' slowly dying giggles, and took up his ball once again. Wordlessly, he returned to the approach, and with yet another display of perfect form, sent the ball straight down the lane once again.

This time, he hit his mark, picking up the spare with a sigh of relief. He'd never live it down if he'd cocked up the second half of the frame after all of that bragging. With a nod of satisfaction, he spun and loped back to his seat, kicking his feet back up. "Just needed tae calibrate, is all."

"Not bad," Heavy conceded with a nod, his lips curling into a smirk in spite of himself.

"You fellers ain't seen nothin' yet. Prepare to watch how a Conagher hunts turkeys," Engineer said, pushing himself to his feet and ambling easily over to the ball return with a crooked grin across his face.

"Ye gonnae bowl left handed, then? Or is this a tech demonstration for that Gunslinger under yer glove?" Demoman and Heavy shared a knowing look.

Engineer's mouth drew into a straight line as he froze, about to reach for the ball with his gloved right hand. Well shit.

"I think lowest score should buy drinks at alley bar," Heavy hummed, twisting the knife.

Dammit.

"Aye, I'm in!" Demoman agreed. They both turned to Engineer, grinning like a pair of cats ready to pounce on a one-legged mouse.

Seizing the ball with his left hand, Engineer let out a long sigh. Heavy didn't drink much, at least. Demoman, on the other hand?

"It's a bet."

The joke on them was that he'd spent all the cash he'd brought on the shoe rental.

[player1064]

Loved your Jamie Carragher character thesis statement post! It actually made me think of a prompt or short story if you are still doing them. A 5+1 story of Gary making Jamie contradict how he acts/personality. Maybe from the viewpoints of others and the +1 can be Gary defending Jamie personality/character. Again love your drabbles and stories!

im ngl i DID set out to do this as a 5+1 but I. ran out of steam a bit (bitches when their meds are out of stock etc). so instead have a 4+0 😅

---

Philip.

Phil has abandoned the boardroom and is wandering around Hotel Football in search of snacks when he comes upon a small kitchenette where Jamie is busy swearing at a kettle.

He hadn't realised Jamie was here too, he and the other lads have been stuck in a meeting with Gary for hours now and there'd been no mention of it, but it's not that surprising when he thinks about it.

"Alright, Carra?" he greets, and Jamie turns to him with a muttered fuck.

"Hi, Phil," he says with an exasperated sigh. "Your twat of a brother asked me to fetch him some tea, and –”

He gestures hopelessly at the counter behind him, which is in such a state it looks as though a small bomb has gone off.

"Oh," says Phil. "Tea is really difficult, to be fair. Can't you find one of the staff members to help you?"

"No, I –” Jamie runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. "He asked me."  

Redders.

Jamie sees it moments before it happens, in excruciating slow motion – like when a gun goes off in films. Gary’s hovering around Carra, trying unsuccessfully to get his attention, and when he gives up and reaches to jostle Carra’s shoulder Jamie waits for the inevitable snap.

Except, Carra doesn’t snap. He doesn’t jerk away, he looks at Gary and he beams. If it was any other person Jamie could’ve sworn he was leaning in to the touch, because Gary’s hand stays in place even while they talk.

When they’re setting up to film, Gary shifts his chair closer to Carra’s so that their knees are touching, and Carra doesn’t roll his eyes or move away. When Carra tells a joke that’s got Gary doubled over with laughter, Gary spreads a hand between Carra’s shoulder blades and nothing happens.

The whole day is full of things like that, tiny casual touches which should be normal, which are normal for anyone other than Carra. Jamie, worried that he’s gone mad and misremembered a fundamental fact about Carra, even tries an experiment once or twice: he claps a hand on Carra’s back, or he throws an arm around his shoulders in a friendly side hug. Carra twitches at the contact every single time, a miniscule reaction honed out of years of needing to be polite, and he carefully shifts away from Jamie’s touch with a suspicious side-eye.

When they’re leaving the studio that evening to go to the pub, Gary slaps Carra’s bum as he walks through the doorway and all Carra does is grin.

Stevie.

“Who the fuck are you texting?”

“Huh?” Jamie blinks, looks up at Stevie over his glasses like he’d forgotten he was there. “Oh, just Gary.”

“Didn’t yous see ‘im earlier today?”

“Yeah, why?”

Stevie is lucky if he gets one text a month from Jamie, even luckier if he sees him in person more than twice a year. It’s never bothered him much, he knows what Jamie’s like, knows that anyone not sat directly in front of him is prone to being dismissed as a distraction. There aren’t really friends in Jamie’s world, just allies and enemies.

So he’s not really sure what to do with this version of Jamie, the one who leaves Gary Neville’s company (and Gary Neville, really?) only to immediately open his phone and start texting Gary Neville.

Every time his phone pings he opens it up and does a stupid little snicker at whatever Gary’s sent him, never mind that he’s meant to be mid-conversation with Stevie. Every bloody anecdote seems to start with ‘so me and Gary were –’, or ‘Gary was saying –’. Even the stories that aren’t about work – as far as Stevie can figure out, there’s rarely a moment that Jamie’s not with Gary, or talking to Gary, or thinking about Gary.

It's weird. It’s almost like how he used to be about football.

Micah.

Micah can’t believe what he’s seeing. It’s time for Sky’s yearly ‘film Neville and Carragher making fools of themselves racing each other in a thinly-veiled attempt to rack up more views’, and Jamie is losing.

Jamie’s a runner, he runs. Gary does fuck all cardio beyond the occasional group fitness class, he should not be a full pace ahead of Jamie at the halfway point, and yet. Gary can’t seem to believe it either, because when he glances back at Jamie he grins and picks up his pace with a gleeful little laugh.

Jamie rolls his eyes for the sake of the cameras, but there’s a moment where Micah could’ve sworn he saw him skip, like he was deliberately trying to slow himself down. Which is impossible, because Jamie would happily out-sprint a child if someone told him it was a competition.

And yet.

When Gary wins he grabs onto Jamie’s arm to support himself while his whole body shakes with laughter, squawking out insults every time he’s able to catch his breath. Jamie laughs along, makes up some poor excuse about his hamstring going, but when he catches Micah’s eye he winks as if they’re both in on the same joke.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Space Vampires

(A continuation from Humans are weird: Space Werewolf) ( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)    

The drop ship slowly crested its way down through the cloud banks and shook as it hit yet another pocket of turbulence.

“Would you like me to pilot?” Markus joked as he tightened his crash harness again. “I might not be as experienced as you, but I think I can avoid at least one batch of bad weather during our trip.”

Flint chuckled beside himself before quickly stifling it as Hooper grunted from the cockpit.

The craft was an older class V model of shuttle. Enough room for the cockpit and a small storage area in the back where Markus and Flint sat in modified seats. Much of the craft had been modified beyond what the original designers had envisioned, but in their line of work it was a hunter’s job to adapt to any situation with whatever they had on hand.

“You? Pilot?” Hooper laughed as he flipped a series of switches in rapid succession. “You’d be more likely to crash us into a bloody mountain and call it a detour.”

The shuttle shook again suddenly and it felt like it dropped ten feet before stabilizing out. Markus was opening his mouth to make another remark of Hooper’s piloting skills when the now unamused Hooper held up a finger for silence.

Several more shudders pierced swarmed the craft before finally the shuttle cleared the cloud banks and saw the world below. A desolate world of stone and sand with a sky constantly drowned in the depths of clouds so dense that barely any light at all ever reached the surface of the blighted world.

A perfect world indeed for their contact to meet them on.

“Are we sure we should be doing this?”

Hooper took pause from scanning the horizon for their landing to tilt his head back and see Flint looking between the pair. The signs of doubt already beginning to creep over his features as his right foot slowly tapped a rhythm to some new age song. It was a trick Hooper had taught the young hunter to calm his mind when the darkness began to creep ever closer.

“We’ve not got a choice I’m afraid.” Markus spoke before Hooper could. “We’re in uncharted waters and they’ve more a grasp than any of us.”

“But what if they double cross us?” Flint pressed. “When have we ever known them to honor a parlay of truce, let alone not lie to our faces?”

“I understand your reluctance,” Hooper began as he flicked on autopilot and turned the pilot’s chair around to face Flint, “and if times were different I’d be the first one in line to kill these bastard.”

“But Markus is right,” Hooper admitted with a heavy heart, “right now we need to put aside our old grudges and work together.”

“If it makes you feel better, at the first sign of a double cross we can kill them all!” Markus announced boldly and slapped his knee. Flint said nothing at this but smiled; though he could not help still tapping his feet a little softer. Hooper watched this quietly and kept his own council confined within the depths of his thoughts.

He had been hesitant to bring Flint along for this task. Normally a novice hunter would not be exposed to these sorts of dealings until they had become folly ordained within the order; but Markus had lobbied hard for the lad and their previous dealings with the werewolf pack on Sectus II had shown he could hold his own. Markus was also right that there was little time to follow traditional procedures and they needed every hunter in the field they had.

“Is that it?” Flint asked sheepishly as Hooper was dragged from the council of his mind and turned back to look out the cockpit window.

Just nestled in the valley between two long and tall mountain ranges was a red light glowing so bright it was even registering on the shuttles scanners.

“Strap in you two,” Hooper said as he flipped off autopilot and began the descent, “we’re about to find out.”

With that said the shuttle began a rapid descent towards the surface of the planet until coming to a stop just beside the strange red glow. The area around the light was completely deserted save for a lone figure. Their features were hidden beneath their cloak but they seemed untroubled by the storm of dust and flying stones as the shuttle came down next to the flame.

“Gear up.” Hooper said as soon as the shuttle finally came to a rest and the engines started spinning down. He watched the figure for a moment to see if they would move to greet them at the boarding ramp, but they just stood stoic by the light.

“I thought you said we should trust them?” Flint spoke as he untangled himself from the webbing. Hooper shook his head as he unbuckled himself from the flight chair and picked up his plasma caster that was nestled beside him. He popped in a fresh power pack and the weapon began to hum to life as the lethal energies coursed through its elegant frame.

“I said we need them, not that we should trust them.”

The trip of hunters loaded themselves with the weapons and tools of their trade before Markus hammered the boarding ramp switch and the back of the shuttle popped open with a grinding screech. It took a minute to fully open before the hunters set foot on the desolate world and walked around the shuttle to meet with the figure.

None of them spoke as they approached the stranger as they finally moved; walking towards the flame and casually extinguishing it with a casual kick of dirt. Hooper switched between keeping his eyes on the figure and scanning the horizon, but for the most part the figure was the only one out in the open for miles around.

“I thought we had agreed to meet alone.” The figure spoke as the trio of hunters stopped several paces between the two parties.

Hooper smirked. “That we did,” he said as he swept his plasma caster around the surrounding area, “so would you care to tell your friends to leave and I’ll do the same.”

The figure cocked his head in confusion, but Hooper just pointed his weapon at the ground he now stood over.

“You think we didn’t see your friend buried in the stones?” Hooper asked mockingly. “Tell them to get out here now or this one below me is about to find out what a face full of holy plasma feels like; and trust me when I say it makes holy water feel like a pin prick.”

Standing silent, the figure made no move to acknowledge Hooper’s claim. It wasn’t until the whine of the plasma caster finally reached its highest pitch indicating that it was ready to fire that they finally gave up and made a gesture with their right hand.

All around them more figures suddenly began bursting from the ground in showers of rock and stone, causing Flint to reach for his weapon before a calming hand from Markus forestalled him. These new figures wore elaborate sets of armor, now decorated with a thin layer of dust from their hiding places. Each held a sharpened blade in their hands while burning red eyes tracked the hunters every movements. The one beneath Hooper’s feet making an awkward assention as he crawled up from the stone beneath his legs.

“It is good to see your order has not lost its touch.” The figure said as they removed their hood to show a youthful looking face. “Existence can become so dull without a good sparring partner.”

“Morgan.” Hooper said with a tilt of his head. He powered down his plasma caster as the other figures shuffled over and stood behind their master.

Morgan, voice of the conclave of vampires, nodded in return and looked passed Hooper to Markus and Flint.

“And you’re friends are?” Morgan asked, but Hooper shook his head.

“Cut the formalities and let’s get this done.” He said.

The right eyebrow of Morgan twitched for the briefest of moments in anger but otherwise he retained his composure. The vampiric assassins jittered around him as if sensing their master’s anger but knew well enough to remain silent.

Holding out his hand towards one of the assassins, the vampire stepped forward to Hooper and presented him with a datapad before returning to his position behind his master. Hooper powered on the pad and began reading the information as it scrolled by.

“The names and last known whereabouts of the vampires responsible for the most recent…..” the voice paused for a moment to consider his words, “breaches; as you requested.”

“Breaches!?”

Morgan looked towards the speaker to find that it was young Flint who now spoke brazenly; his outrage at the dismissiveness of the vampire beyond constraint.

“Your kind slaughtered three colony worlds and left a damn near hundred young bloods to ravage the rest of the planet it a blood fueled ram-

“FLINT!!!”

Flint stopped himself as Hooper shouted at him and fixed him with the hardest stare he had.

“Shut. Up. Now.” he spoke through gritted teeth.

Not expecting this from his mentor, Flint looked confused and upset before relenting and resuming his silence. Hooper turned back to Morgan who had remained silent during the outburst.

“My…..apologies, for my protégés outburst;” Hooper said much to the surprise of Markus and Flint, “he still needs to learn how these matters are conducted.”

Morgan grinned, an expression that made Flint’s hand twitch towards his own gun, and waved away Hooper’s apology.

“Think nothing of it.” He replied to Hooper, before tilting and looking directly at Flint. “And I would go so far as to state that I agree with their assessment entirely.”

Whatever the trio had been expecting the vampire to say during these dealings, a formal apology was not amongst them. It was rare for a vampire to admit they were wrong, let alone agree with a mere mortal.

“Since the discovery of space travel the vampire conclave has found it increasingly difficult to keep its members in line.” Morgan began as he paced around the meeting area. He would stop every now and then to look at the ground before bending down to pick up a stone of unremarkable appearance before casually tossing it aside.

“On Earth such acts of carnage were contained and swiftly dealt with to maintain the balance, but now; as the universe opens up around us some of our kind see worlds as their own private feasting grounds.”

“Can’t keep your house in order?” Hooper mocked.

In a blink of an eye Morgan vanished from his position opposite Hooper and appeared with his hand inches from the hunter’s throat. The hunter could smell the sulfur radiating off the vampire and knew he had struck a nerve. He could see the crimson color of Morgan’s eyes and felt the vampire was using every ounce of his strength to resist feeding on Hooper.

Markus, Flint, and the vampire assassins all readied themselves as if battle would ensue but Hooper held up a hand to stall his companions.

“You would be wise to remember your place.” Morgan spoke through gritted teeth. His sharpened fangs protruding from his mouth with each syllable ready to dig deep into Hooper’s neck and drink of his blood. A notion Hooper was well aware of and had his right hand firmly priming a garlic grenade in his pocket to dissuade the vampire should he press further.

“The vampire conclave is handling the dealings of our kind on a hundred worlds across a dozen star systems. Your continued existence is merely a byproduct of our generosity for allowing you to live long enough to spread humans to more worlds to feast on.”

“There’s plenty of alien’s out there too,” Hooper said calmly, “why the special interest in us “lowly” humans?”

“They are..” Morgan spoke as he slowly pulled away from Hooper and the hunter eased off the garlic grenade, “incompatible.”

“That didn’t seem to bother the werewolves.” Hooper pointed out. “Nor zombies for that matter; those buggers will eat just about anything.”

Morgan sighed deeply and run his hands over his face as if he was about to speak slowly to a small child.

“I do not have the time nor patience to explain why human blood is the desired choice for my kind; just know that it is the will of the conclave to see your species continued existence to serve us in the coming millennia.”

He tapped the datapad Hooper still held in his other hand with a long finger ending with a sharpened fingernail that looked like it could cut steel as if it was cardboard.

“A decree that some of my kind are now putting at risk by their rampant blood feasts. If we do not pool our resources now they will exterminate the entirety of the human population leaving us without a crucial food source.”

“And here I thought you just enjoyed our company.” Hooper said begrudgingly. “So your only wish to keep using humans is for vampire food?”

Morgan paused to collect his thoughts, debating internally if he should share the new information with his hunter adversaries.

“There is another reason,” Morgan spoke slowly having made up his mind, “and it is with regards to alien blood.”

This peeked Hooper’s interest and he motioned for the vampire to continue.

“During your encounter with the werewolves from your previous…adventures, did you not see aliens infected by their mark?”

“We did.” Hooper replied, unsure were Morgan was going with this.

“We have discovered similarly, that when the blood curse is applied to nonhuman species the results can be……detrimental.”

“Meaning?” Hooper asked impatiently.

“The curse changes aliens in ways we have not seen before, and at times these new abominations have abilities far beyond even our elder’s capabilities to contain.”

This was grave news that Hooper could hardly believe. A vampire elder, or leader of the conclave, was easily thousands of years old and possessed enough strength and skill that centuries ago it had taken the entire order of hunters to destroy just one of their number. To hear that these beings of unimaginable destruction were being hard pressed by newly turned alien vampires was something that filled Hooper with a sense of dread he had not known in decades.

“You see our problem now.” Morgan spoke, seeing that the hunter finally realized what is at stake. “If we do not correct these divergences now, we may see a galactic scale level of devastation.”

“And to show you we are not joking,” Morgan continued as one by one the vampire assassins began vanishing into smoke leaving the area until only Morgan remained, “we brought you one to see firsthand.”

A loud roar thundered through the valley and the trio of hunters all reached for their weapons. In the distance they could see an ever growing mound of flesh thrashing towards them. Rows of teeth catching the light as it stampeded towards the gathering and Hooper caught sight of a pair of bright crimson eyes that he had seen just now in Morgan’s visage.

“Au revoir, Mr. Hooper.”

Hooper turned back to see Morgan vanishing into smoke, laughing as the tyrant alien vampire continued thundering towards the hunters.

[thebeanofdoom]

SoapGaz Headcanon

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Headcanons for some tired 141 Sergeants bc I'm abt to go snore mimimi myself. Enjoy

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The 141 had just gotten back from a very long and tiring mission, it was taking their all not to fall asleep in their seats as they flew back home. Even the ever stoic Lieutenant was starting to nodd off, doing that litte head falling forward slightly then startling upright again thing. Price was relaxed against his seat and had his hat pulled down into his face so one couldn't be sure if he was still awake or not. The two sergeants sat next to each other, opposite Price and Ghost. They were leaning against each other, trying to stay awake by talking about random stuff like weird posters they'd see in the building they'd just infiltrated. They were nearing "I'm pretty sure I'm so tired I can see the hat man" territory when the pilot finally announced that'd they were going to land in five. Price moved for the first time in 30 minutes and sat up straight again, while Ghost also snapped back into a more alert state (even though he still looked like death warmed over).

"Alright lads, we'll debrief tomorrow. We all need a fucking nap," Price said as he got up with the typical knee slap thing that old men (especially dads) liked to do.

Ghost followed after him like a lost puppy, seemingly still half asleep but knowing he could follow Price and end up in his own room for a well deserved nap. That left Soap and Gaz in the aircraft, both looking forward to nap time too but also dreading the walk to their rooms. Soap got his shit together first and got up and out of reflex put his hand on the back of Gaz' head to pull him forward a little so he could plant a smooch onto his forehead.

"Sleep well, wee yin." He murmured and turned to walk away, freezing after a step as he realized what he'd one.

Gaz was sitting there, absolutely flabbergasted. Not only had Soap kissed him on the forehead, he had also called him "little one", a term he knew meant that since he'd heard the man call his nieces and nephews that. Soap turned back Gaz and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Sorry about that, its a reflex. I always do that to my nieces and nephews when I'm home, guess I must be more tired than I thought if my brain thinks you qualify for that treatment." Soap explained, chuckling awkwardly.

"Its fine," Gaz said with a tired smile, getting up too and stepping up to Soap. "I liked it. You know what they say, you gotta kiss the homies good night."

"I'm not gonna kiss Price. Or Ghost for that matter. Pretty sure the mad lad would stab me if I tried." Soap grimaced.

"Oh? So you're saying I get special treatment? That's favoritism, Sergeant McTavish." Gaz hummed amusedly.

"So what? Yer gonna punish me for it, Sergeant Garrick?" Soap teased right back with a grin.

Gaz' eyes dropped to the scotsman's lips for a second, then back up to his eyes.

"No, but I think I'm going to return the favor." He almost purred, then leaned in and connected their lips in a short and sweet kiss. He had to chuckle at the noise of surprise that came from Soap and had a short moment of panic as the man seemed to freeze up, before his anxiety was washed away by the feeling of the other man's hands on his hips. They pulled back slowly, small smiles on both of their faces.

"That was unexpected, but very welcome." Soap whispered.

Gaz hummed in agreement, wrapping his arms around Soap's neck and leaning into him. They stayed that way for a few seconds, enjoying the closeness and comfort of the other.

"Alright, as much as I'd love to stay here and cuddle you all day - well, night, by now - but I think I'm about to fall asleep standing up. So, if you wanna keep cuddling me, we best get back to one of our rooms." Gaz said with a yawn.

"Inviting me back to your room already? Damn, buy me dinner first." Soap teased, receiving a weak slap to the shoulder for his joke.

"Oh shut up, you. That's not what I meant and you know it. Now, do you want cuddles or not?" Gaz huffed with a pout.

"How could I ever say no to that face?" Soap smiled and lead Gaz to his room by their entertwined hands for some well deserved rest and cuddles.

And if they stopped a few times along the way to trade a soft kiss or two, well, who was there to judge?

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A/N: Alright, that's it from me, Imma hit the sack (sadly no cuddles for me). Also, if anyone is wondering why Soap has 0 Scottish speech mannerisms, well, that's cuz I know jack shit abt the accent and I don't wanna fuck it up. That one nickname I used I had to google :'D so unless any of you wanna Scot-ify his speech for me, he shall remain unseasoned

[new-berry]

Since I may never finish the gangabang (sort of! ) fic here is the first person (in the gangbang it’s not a first person pov).

NSFW (if gangbang didn’t give it away) not true etc etc in this reckoning you get the player you want for getting man of the match and you have to serve the team if you get red carded. In the west ham game (I think) Anthony got both. Anthony /Fabian and the start of Anthony/Alex. There are no spelling mistakes in this.

Anthony looks at Kieran and Dan, internally he groans, player of the match and red carded. Only one of those were in his plans. Finally he says; “fine then. Fabian.”

Kieran narrows his eyes as Dan laughs. And because Anthony is incapable of not running his mouth he goes on “I want to start with the most handsome.”

Fabian preens, posing briefly where he’s leaning against the door from the showers to the changing room. He grins broad and untroubled by the glare Kieran’s directed at him. “It’s true my friend.” Kieran opens his mouth to say something and Fabian talks right over the top of him “you’ll look pretty as well soon,” smiling at Anthony, “with come all over your face.”

Anthony wants to roll his eyes at that line but it causes such a hot curl of anticipation in his stomach. “Not just his face.” Kieran says snidely and Anthony’s cheeks heat up. Okay so Tripps is still pissed off then.

Alex flicks on a playlist as Fabian walks back, towards Anthony standing in the middle of the room. Anthony wouldn’t put it past Alex to have one labelled ‘gangbang’, but whatever he’s called it, it’s a good choice - low tones and bass heavy. Gets his heart pounding, makes his blood start to feel hotter.

There was some chatter before but now it’s stopped. At this moment, anticipation is almost liquid in the air, Anthony can feel expectation prickling like before a game, tingling on the inside of his wrist and in the arch of his foot.

Eyes are carding down his back. It makes the room feel closed in and humid.

Dan threw an arm around him in the tunnel between the field and the hallway. A paused hushed space where they are out of earshot and camera view.

“A tradition is not a law,” Dan reminds him. “You can go home and sleep it off, or hit the gym and box it off.”

“The tradition of getting who you want if you get man of the match?” Anthony reminds him. “Traditions are part of football.”

“Good lad.” Dan says. “Emile’s getting rid of the kids.” A politeness, Anthony can speak to Emile then, about who is invited into the room.

Dan grins as big as Fabian, legs spread wide and Anthony wants to crawl between them and Dan knows it, the fucker. “I’ll go last,” he offers, Anthony’s toes curl in his socks, if he went over there now, nuzzled his face into Dan’s lap his cock would start to get hard. He could go first.

Fabian slaps Anthony lightly on the cheek on the way past and his eyes dart up, “kind of offended you’re looking at him if you asked for me.” Fabian’s voice drops low. “You can make it up to me.”

Anthony feels a shiver start in the small of his back and radiate out, up his spine and down the backs of his thighs. Fabian pulls his towel off and sits on the bench, legs spread and beckons Anthony over.

He allows the shiver. There is a flush of shame that gets burned away by wanting, sitting dirtyhot in his stomach. Only Dan and Kieran are fully dressed, Kieran in the clothes he wore to watch the game, Dan from interviews.

No one else bothered to get changed, just in towels like Fabian, or boxers like Alex, everyone Anthony discussed with Emile, and it’s like that thought has linked itself to his cock, like a livewire. That everyone else had their part in planning this. There is a little bit of water on Fabian’s legs, a few beads in the hair and Anthony wants to lick them off.

His brain stutters for a moment, he can.

Fabian folds the towel a couple of times and puts it down so Anthony has an extra layer under his knees. He looks good, the asshole, hand on his cock, rubbing his thumb over the head, a half smile already in place.

He puts his hand on Anthony’s face cupped under his chin and tugs him forward. Anthony resists the temptation of his cock and licks at the little water droplets, Fabian smells warm and clean. Something that Anthony just thinks of as ‘man’ and ‘adult’. Like walking into a room with wood panelled walls.

His thighs under Anthony’s tongue are hard and have a hint of give. Fabian sighs happily as Anthony nuzzles across the muscles, dipping his tongue into the firm grove along the front, sliding into the inside of his thighs.

His skin is ticklish there and Fabian huffs out a laugh, shaking but not pulling away.

Anthony looks up at the sound, looks his fill up Fabian’s chest, his chin and lips. Even the cologne and deodorant he uses smells good. Earthy, spicy and rich.

Kieran told Anthony once that looking at Fabian naked was like looking at an expensive gold watch. The music playing behind them changes, a little faster, lyrics he doesn’t understand. Fabian grins at him, poisonsweet, “come on kid,” his voice is deeper and his cock is fuller.

He looks relaxed though, like he could be sprawled at a table at a classier nightclub than Anthony frequents.

Anthony takes a breath and leans down, licks a line up his balls to his dick and looks up again making eye contact. Fabian’s smile is confident, the crinkles in the corners of his eyes make him always look a little kind and he puts his hand back on Anthony’s face, curled around his ear.

Kind but he still shoves Anthony’s face down to his stomach, he’s not fully hard yet so Anthony ends up with his nose almost pressed to his neatly trimmed pubes, resting on his lush feeling skin.

Even that feels rich. Oak panelled rooms and expensive carpet under his knees. The sound of rushing water. Anthony’s mouth is full of spit, pooling around his tongue in expectation.

“If you make me wait you make them wait.” Fabian’s trying to keep his voice even, but it’s got a little crack, he tightens his hand on Anthony’s face “you look good,” he says, “come and make me feel good.”

Anthony doesn’t look around the room, despite the gaze he can feel on him. He pulls back enough to suck the top of Fabian’s cock and starts up a rhythm with his mouth and his hand.

It’s not just he’s handsome, Anthony looks up again, Fabian’s mouth is slightly open and he’s breathing deeper, the lines of his abs tensing when Anthony sucks particularly hard.

He’s nice as well. Fabian catches his eye and shifts his hips up a tiny bit, quirks his eyebrows up and Anthony nods. Fabian holds the other side of his face, spreading his legs a little and his thighs are dizzying, Anthony wants to climb on his lap and ride them.

He starts to fuck Anthony’s mouth, little shallow thrusts until they develop a cadence. Fabian won’t stretch it out, likes to get off and watch, chat to the team. Maybe have a second go, Anthony falls out of their rhythm for a second, imagining Fabian shoving his perfect cock into him.

It doesn’t stop him though, Fabian comes in Anthony’s mouth and yanks him up. Anthony shivers as he gets kissed. Crawling onto Fabian’s lap and grinding his hips down.

He leans over Fabian, putting his hands on his face to pull his jaw down, so all the come slides into his mouth. Something else Fabian likes, the sticky swap of tongues.

“Can I ride you?” Anthony pants out. Fabian smiles, eyes crinkling up. “Today or later?” He motions behind him. “I want to, but the others want a turn.” Fabian squeezes Anthony’s ass, slipping his hand under the briefs he’s wearing.

Anthony shouldn’t get a say, other teams don’t after a dumb red. But even for how annoyed Kieran is no one would stop them. Anthony turns over ‘later’. They have shared time with the team before but it’s always ended there.

“At the end?” Fabian’s eyes get all dark and there is a filthy grin on his lips. Anthony will be sticky all over by them. Might be to blissed out to do more than rock mindlessly. Anthony nods without realising he’s doing it, bobbing his head too much.

“I’ll remember,” Fabian says. Good, Anthony might not. There is a warm body behind him and the press of lips on his neck, the rougher rasp of beard gives it away and yeah Alex. His long thin fingers sweep around Anthony’s stomach, tugging him onto his feet.

Fabian helps him off his lap, legs a big wobbly. Alex yanks him close, dick hard on his back. This is good too. Alex bites his neck and Dan reminds him about cameras. Alex just goes lower. Tiny stinging little nips, “get them pants off Fabby,” Dan’s voice again.

Fabian pulls his briefs down to the top of his thighs, stopping for a moment for a rough grope across his cock and down to squeeze his balls.

Anthony whimpers from that and Alex stopping biting to rub his face across his skin. Anthony shudders, all the little nips and bites over-sensitive under his facial hair. “Leave the socks,” Dan calls again.

[masonmount11]

MASON MOUNT FINDS HIS NEW LOVER-

Chapter one, part one- meeting each other

Warning: maybe some swearing

Liked by Masonmount and 53k others

Your_name7: mirrors = best selfies 😗✌🏻

Comments:

@Masonmount that is my hoodie! Your_name7 Shush mason, you left it here

@Declanrice why would you take a photo without showing your face? Your_name7 no face, no case 🤟🏼

@yournamesbiggestfan omg she is so pretty 🩷 1 like

@woody mason is obsessed with you 🤫 Your_name7 Can you blame him? Masonmount liked your message

@benchilwell who’s this handsome lad? Your_name7 How dare you benjamin!

You are sat on your sofa, just lounging. Before you hear a knock at the door. You sigh as you can’t be bothered to go see who it is but you manage to roll yourself off the sofa and walk to the door. Before opening the door you take a deep breathe since you have trouble speaking to people, socially. You open the door and mason is stood there with his arms folded and a big smile on his face. “Mason” y/n says as your head is tilted with confusion. “I needed company” mason says with a sweet and charmimg smile while looking into your eyes. After mason said that, a smile immediately grows on your face. “Aww. come in, you” you say before opening the door wider for mason to come inside.

Mason enters your house and has a look around “you got a lovely place, you know that y/n?” Mason says while glancing down at you. “Well thank you mason” you reply with a smirk, followed by you patting masons arm, he smiles at you. “Would you like a drink?” Y/n asks mason, waiting for a response. “Just a water please” he replies and y/n follows that response with a laugh “you’re a basic bitch then. I see, I see” y/n says teasingly making mason laugh at you. Mason follows behind you, into the kitchen. You pass him a bottle of water and then grab one for yourself. “So. since you bombarded my chill time, what would you like to do?” You say as Mason laughs and then raises his eyebrows “bombarded aye?” He says and dramatically gasps, followed with a laugh “maybe we could watch a film together” he says while looking down at you again. “Sure, come on then” y/n says with a smile before leading the way to the sofa, before you could blink, mason gently barges past you “race ya!” He says with a confident laugh while running. Y/n roll’s her eyes at you before chasing behind you “get back here, you little shit!” You shout, causing masons laugh to grow even bigger. But something about that laugh makes you feel so fuzzy inside, are you falling in love? Who knows.

After you chased behind mason to the sofa, you finally catch up to him. “You cheated, you didn’t even count down” y/n manages to say while puffing out of breath with your hands leaning against your knees. “Oh shush. even if I did count down, you would still lose” mason says flirtatiously while nudging you gently, causing you to smile quite a lot and your cheeks to turn pink. You gently slap his arm in response to the nudge and mason just laughs loudly while rubbing his arm sarcastically, pretending that it hurt. You roll your eyes with a smile as you watch mason get comfortable on the sofa while y/n gets a blanket for you both and some popcorn too. Y/n comes back with the bowl of popcorn in her hand and the blanket wrapped around her spare arm. “You look like my slave” mason says with a smirk before letting out a little laugh as y/n gasps at what you said “you cheeky shit” y/n says before sitting down next to mason. He already picked the film, a romance one. Of course, when does mason ever not want to watch a romance film? Never.

You and mason are now watching the film, mason has managed to get close enough to you that he is basically sitting on your lap, but you don’t complain about it one bit. Mason tilts his head your direction, giving the hint that he wants to cuddle. You smile widely before getting into a complete new position that mason would be comfortable in.. you lay down on the sofa and he lays in between your legs, with his head rested on your stomach gently. “Comfy?” Y/n asks, making sure he is but as you ask you can already see a huge smile on his face. He nods to your question and continues to watch the film again. Without thinking, you start to play with masons hair, it was very fluffy and soft, so basically perfect. You also use your nails which causes masons eyes to get heavy, you catch him almost falling asleep and you let out a quiet laugh at him. He has his hands on either side of you very gently and there is just silence between you both with the film playing In the background.. but in this moment, y/n realises that she has fallen in love with this pretty brunette that is in her arms. Her heart beats that little bit faster around him and her smile grows that little bit bigger too. You are just laying here, trying to keep as still as possible so that you don’t wake mason up.

After a few hours, you are still laying on the sofa with mason still asleep. You think to yourself how a human can sleep so long, but just as you thought that, Mason slowly starts waking up. “Nice of you to finally wake up, sleepyhead” y/n says with a smile as you stroke his head gently with your nails, causing mason to smile and hide his face into your stomach. When mason first wakes up he isn’t very talkative because he has to wake up fully before he can be bothered to even say hi, he is like a baby but it’s so adorable for y/n. Masons hands has also been in the same place since he’s fallen asleep, he hasn’t been able to let go of y/n’s perfect body all day. You love his touch, it makes you feel safe and warm inside. I’m sure mason feels the same when you touch him too. “You are going to be my new pillow from now on! You are so comfy” mason says sweetly, his voice still sounding sleepy and raspy but also very charming. “Well you can be my blanket then” you reply, matching the energy. Making mason laugh into your stomach. You poke his side gently making him move slightly and laugh even more “blankets aren’t supposed to move though” you say as you are poking him. he holds your hands while giggling so that you can’t touch him anymore and he smiles, making them dimples show. You smile and gently pinch his little dimples making his face turn bright pink.

to be continued…

I hope you all enjoyed my first fic, I really did enjoy writing this as my first one and for sure will be writing more. Next one coming soon.. 👀❣️

[helenaheissner]

Magical Girl Exorcist Squad (Issue #10: Devils in Plain Sight)

The weirdest part of the next day was how little anyone reacted to her. Nicole had expected confusion, outrage, misunderstandings. But there was nothing. She woke up in her new apartment, in an undecorated room with only a bed and a nightstand. Amy had already left for the day- she left a note on the fridge explaining she had an early morning class but to text her when she was done for the day so she could help her move. She’d also left a half a pitcher of coffee and a plate of sausage and hash browns and an orange for her with a similar note giving permission to eat it. Nicole had to admit, Amy was certainly putting her best foot forward on this.

Nicole ate her breakfast and did homework for tomorrow’s class, then hopped in the shower. She nicked herself a few times shaving her legs and armpits, but part of her was glad she was getting the reps in. She put on a hot pink top and a knee-length white skirt and did her makeup as best she could, and she went out to face the day. 

She arrived in class, fully expecting a full interrogation from her professor. She walked up to the good Dr. Wolfman, only for him to say, “Ah, hello Nicole. That’s your preferred name now, yes? I received notice from the school about your transition- I hope you’ll still find my class welcoming.”

“Um… Yeah,” Nicole said. Father Gonzalez must’ve gone ahead and appraised the school administrators about her status- he had said they were already in the know. That was nice of him. “I hope so too!”

“Very well then. If you’ll take your seat then.”

“Okay!”

After that, she took her seat, and nobody batted an eyelash. Well, a few of them did- mostly guys, mostly checking her out. It was a strange thing to have happen to her, mostly because if anyone was checking her out beforehand she’d never noticed. But she turned it around and started checking the guys out herself, glancing appreciatively at each boy who gave her a leering look. Mom had told her she was a pretty girl now and would have to beat the boys back with a stick- Nicole hoped that wasn’t literal, and a part of her wasn’t entirely comfortable with the arrangement, but still, it was nice to know that people thought she was attractive. And besides, some of these lads had very nice faces and bodies. Fair is fair, Nicole thought with a wry grin as she made eye contact with a very, very muscular young man she’d caught staring at her moments prior. Gonna have to be restrained going forward, though. I’m here to get an education, not an MRS degree. 

After class, everybody simply cleared out. Nobody came up to interrogate her, nobody was demanding to know who she was and why she was in Nick Nygaard’s seat or why they looked like they could be brother and sister. Nobody cared. It was shocking how self-absorbed most people were in that respect, but hey, she’d take it if it got her through the day unobstructed. 

After that, she texted Amy, who responded she had another class but would meet her at the apartment in an hour. Nicole simply went home and did more homework, getting a decent chunk of it done while listening to jazz-hop. Finally, Amy opened the door, clad in a ruffled black blouse and red slacks. The slacks hugged her hips in an inviting manner, while her blouse offered a slight peak at her cleavage. And… Was she wearing a push-up bra? 

Bad! Nicole thought, giving herself a mental slap. Bad brain! Bad! She’s your roommate. And your teammate. And she’s straight. And frankly, you’re still not sure if you’ve forgiven her all the way. Stop checking her out. 

Amy stepped forward, and there was a… Bounce in her chest area. STOP IT, BRAIN!

“Hey roomie! How was it?” Amy said with a stupid, gorgeous, stupid smile.

“It was… Fine,” Nicole stammered, rubbing her earlobe furiously.  

“Just fine?”

“I guess it was just… Wicked ordinary,” Nicole said. Killing it, Nygaard.

“Isn’t that good, though?”

“... Yeah, honestly it is. I, uh, I mean, every day probably won’t be like this-”

“Definitely won’t.”

“But I guess today was just today.”

“Exactly,” Amy said, taking off her black spike heels and reaching into the fridge. “Cherry?”

“Excuse me?!” Nicole blushed.

“Cherry soda?” Amy said, holding up two glass bottles of cola. 

“Yes! Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.”

“Cool. Oh, uh, the others weren’t able to help out with moving your stuff today, but my boyfriend Aidan said he was up to it. And he’s got a pickup truck!”

And she’s got a boyfriend- I mean, of course she does. Look at her, she’s beautiful- GOSH DARNIT BRAIN STOP IT ALREADY! “Perfect.”

“He’s gonna meet us here soon- I’m gonna go get changed while we wait,” Amy said, taking a long sip from the glass bottle’s mouth- BLUE BLAZES, WHY?!

Nicole changed clothes into a pair of running shorts and a sports’ bra and tank top, and when she came out, she found Amy on the couch wearing jean shorts and a Kacey Musgraves t-shirt. A knocking struck their door, and Amy opened it to reveal… the guy from Nicole’s Tuesday class with Debbi? That Aidan? Huh, what a coincidence. Also, good for Amy, he is VERY pretty… Ugh, this is gonna be a thing now, isn’t it? Am I gonna need a private cell in horny jail?

“Hey, hot stuff,” Aidan said, leaning down and kissing Amy on the mouth. 

Amy giggled. “Mmmm hey you! Thanks so much for doing this!”

“No problem. Is this your roommate?”

“Yup. This is-”

“Nicole Nygaard. We’ve met,” Nicole said, standing up from the couch. 

“Oh boy,” Amy muttered.

“We have? Wait, Nygaard- are you related to Nick?” Aidan asked. 

“I am Nick.”

“Oh God, here we go,” Amy said. 

“No, you’re not,” Aidan said. 

“No, seriously, I am,” Nicole said. 

“But Nick is a guy.”

“No, I just thought I was a guy,” Nicole said. “Turns out I’m actually a trans girl.”

“Just jumping right into it,” Amy said. 

Nicole rolled her eyes. If Amy was gonna do this consistently when Nicole told people, Nicole was gonna feel less bad about holding back forgiveness. 

“But… You… You look completely different,” Aidan said. “And the last time I saw you was a week ago!”

“Yeah, I, uh, took the week off, did some soul-searching. Got a makeover.”

“Did you also lose several inches of height?” 

“How would you know? I mean, we sat next to each other, sure, but how often did you see me standing up?” Nicole said, hands on her hips. 

“Hm. I suppose,” Aidan said, stroking the nonexistent beard on his chin. “But what about your voice?”

“I’m… A… Amateur voice actor, and I’ve gotten very good at pitching up,” Nicole said. 

“Hm. Okay! Fair enough,” Aidan said with a broad, white-toothed smile. 

Amy breathed a sigh of relief. 

I can’t believe he bought that. 

“So, let’s hop to it!” the young man said. 

They piled into Aidan’s pickup, an old and somewhat worn down white two-seater. Amy was the smallest of them, so she sat stuffed between Aidan and Nicole, pressing up against both of their respective shoulders. This is so uncomfortable.

“So, how did you know you were trans?” Aidan asked. 

Aaaannddd now it’s more uncomfortable. “Umm,” Nicole said, “Well, I always felt off about my body, and after a lot of soul searching and a few very telling dreams, I decided it was time to make a change.”

“Oh, cool. Are you gonna get the operation? You know, between your legs?”

Nicole balked. 

“A-Aidan,” Amy said, red as a tomato, “Y-you can’t just ask that.”

“Oh, well, my mistake. I mean, I guess I just figured ‘cause you already got those milkers added to your chest-”

Amy’s jaw dropped. 

“These are… This is a padded bra?” Nicole said desperately.

“Hm. Oh, well, okay!” he said cheerfully. “Very realistic one then- they look exactly like real boobs! Even the cleavage-”

“Aidan, you need to stop,” Amy said. “I get having questions, but that’s a bit much.”

“Sorry, I guess I’m just curious. You know, I’ve never met a trans person before this, so I’d like to find out as much as I can,” he said. 

This boy is very lucky he’s pretty, ‘cause Amy clearly didn’t pick him for his brains. “Yeah, well, would you ask these questions of a cis girl?” Nicole asked. 

“What’s a cis girl?” both Aidan and Amy asked innocently. 

Nicole sighed. She explained, and by the end she had a headache. Look, just put the information out there. They need to know so they don’t mess up again in the future. Even if these questions are incredibly invasive. 

“I don’t understand why you can’t just say ‘biological girl,’” Aidan said. 

“Actually, I’ve kinda wondered about that too,” Amy said, raking a hand through her hair. 

Nicole side-eyed her, and Amy got flustered again. Aidan, however, went on blissfully ignorant. Nicole sighed again. This is gonna be a long afternoon. 

They arrived at Ditko Hall, which was in the midst of another rager. Techno music and strobe lights blared out of it, artificial smoke billowing out of the doors and windows into the cool, sunny Autumn afternoon. By some miracle, Nicole’s identity card still got them in, and they marched up with cardboard boxes in hand. They navigated a massive sea of partiers- seriously, do any of these guys ever go to class?- and made it to Nicole’s dorm, where Curtis sat on the floor shirtless and smoking from a bong. A massive cloud of weed smoke floated towards them, and Nicole did her best to hold her breath. It worked for about ten seconds- she needed to work on her lung capacity. 

“Hey hey hey, what’s going on here?” the hockey player said. Had his abs always looked that good? Dang, those were some good abs. Stay focused, brain. Just get your stuff and get out; don’t get distracted by the man-candy. 

“Oh, we’re just moving my old stuff out of here,” Nicole said. 

“... Wait, Nick?”

“It’s Nicole, now.”

“Oh. Righteous! Good for you, girl! ‘She/her’ for your pronouns?” Curtis said, standing up and offering her a handshake. 

Nicole shrugged and shook his hand. “Yeah, actually. Thanks for asking.”

“So that’s an okay thing to ask?” Amy said. 

“Yeah, it’s common courtesy,” Curtis said. “Honestly, I think everyone should be specific with their pronouns, to prevent confusion and faux pas’.”

“I’m sorry, what now?” Amy asked. 

“What?”

“I just didn’t expect-”

“One of my moms is trans,” Curtis clarified. “She hatched when I was twelve.”

“Wait, you have two moms?” Nicole asked. “You never mentioned that before.”

“We didn’t talk much before,” Curtis said. “Honestly, I just figured you weren’t much of a partier, so you tried not to hang around too much. Which is fair. Still, good for you. Glad you’re living your best life. And, if I may, you look quite lovely as your true self.”

Perhaps it was the weed smoke, perhaps it was the fact that he was shirtless and buff, or perhaps it was the simple fact that someone else had done all the work for her for once, but a flustered giggle escaped Nicole’s mouth. “Thank you,” she said, running a hand through her hair and biting her lip. 

“I know you guys are moving stuff around, but you wanna hang out a bit?” Curtis said. “I’ve got plenty of weed if you wanna do some bong hits.”

Amy started, “I don’t know if we have time-”

“Sweet!” Aidan said, running over and grabbing the bong. He’d lit it and taken a hit before Amy or Nicole could say anything. 

“We’ll stay if you agree to help us move out in a few hours,” Nicole said. 

“Sounds good to me!” 

“Oh boy,” Amy said. 

Nicole had never smoked weed before. The most she’d ever gotten was a contact high. The actual experience was quite a bit different. Curtis walked her through how to light and use the bong, holding her hand while she took her hit, and the smoke drifted from her mouth to her lungs to her brain. Suddenly, everything was light and airy, all the stresses of her life hundreds of miles away. Now it was just her in a room with some bad music and two hot guys and a very, very hot girl next to her. And life was good. 

Amy took a hit as well, and started laughing profusely within seconds. She sat in between Nicole and Aidan, resting against Aidan’s shoulder and propping her feet on Nicole’s lap. 

“You ever notice how weird the inside of your own mouth feels with your tongue,” Amy said. “It’s like… A damp cavern.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” Nicole said, running her tongue along the roof of her mouth.

“It’s just like a-”

Nicole put a finger on Amy’s lips. “Gonna need you to stop there.”

Amy pouted. “Why?”

“Because it’s a little bit… A little…”

Amy sat up and leaned forward. “A little what?”

“A little inappropriate.”

Amy got in very, very close, her shoulders slumping and her eyes crestfallen. “Oh. Yeah, I guess it is. Sorry. I really need to work on boundaries.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Nicole said, petting her hair, hoping it would calm her down. 

All four of them took another hit, drifting closer and closer to a rapturous clarity. This was evidently a mistake, as it prompted Amy to lean even closer to Nicole and cup her face in her hands. Nicole blushed redder than the communist menace. 

“You’re so pretty,” Amy said.

Nicole gulped. 

“It’s not fair that you’re so pretty. You’re a boy- you’re not allowed to be this pretty.” 

Nicole’s eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched as a sensation akin to raw sewage flowing through her veins ran through her.

“Hey, not cool Amy,” Curtis said. “She’s a girl. She was always a girl.”

Amy stammered, “Oh yeah. Right, right. I’m sorry, I just… I just… I don’t know. I feel like anything I say will just sound like an excuse.”

“I mean it probably will,” Nicole said flatly, still glaring. 

And then Amy started crying, burying her head in Nicole’s shoulder. 

Maybe it was the weed, maybe it was the invasive questions she’d already gotten, or maybe it was just the fact that it was Amy, but a thin rod of patience in Nicole’s mind snapped. “Oh for- could you not do that?”

“Do what?” Amy sobbed.

“That! It’s really frustrating, because you say you feel bad but it feels like you need your guilty conscience soothed more than you care what I think, because you keep saying transphobic stuff and then getting all sad girl hours on me and making it about you! Stop it! Just stop it already, Amy! You’re making it hard to forgive you.”

Amy sniffed, still crying. “But you said… You said you already forgave me.”

“I lied!” Nicole spat. 

Amy pulled herself off of Nicole. “Oh. Okay. That’s fair. I wouldn’t forgive me either.”

Shame flushed through Nicole. She’d needed to get that off her chest, but this probably hadn’t been the right way to do it. “I… I…”

Anxiety impaled Nicole. She had no idea how to do this- people never apologized to her this much before, and people weren’t as openly hostile either. 

Maybe it was the weed, maybe it was week-old resentment, or maybe she was still reeling from her conversation with Zack. But she jumped up away from them and ran out of the room, into the pounding strobe lights of the party, through the maze of debauchery that was Ditko Hall, and out into the mid-afternoon sun. The world suddenly seemed very loud and very ugly, and she was just as ugly as the rest of it. She was supposed to forgive people when they apologized, that was what you did, that was what Jesus wanted, but it was just so gosh darned difficult, especially when people didn’t seem able to forgive themselves and especially when they expected her to provide all the absolution. She leaned against the brick wall of the building and slumped down, holding her head in her hands. 

“Hey,” Amy said, walking out of the building and towards Nicole as if the ground were a thin sheet of glass. “Are you okay?”

“No. I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

Nicole breathed in deep, took her head out of her palms, and looked up at the sky. Wind pushed aside dark and heavy storm clouds, revealing clear blue. “You’re trying. I can tell. But you’re almost trying too hard? But when I say that I feel like a big jerk- like, how can you be trying too hard to be accepting? But I keep… I keep thinking about what you said before and what Zack said to me and all those questions Aidan was asking me and I just keep realizing how this isn’t gonna go away, how this is my life now, and if I want to be a girl then people are gonna keep interrogating me on it and I have to deal with it but at the same time it just sounds exhausting and I… I… I don’t know what to do.”

Amy licked her lips, then sat down next to Nicole. “Look, I… You were kind of right. Debbi can tell you all about this, but I have a habit of making other people’s problems about me. It’s… It’s not great. When I was kid, and she and my younger brothers were the only black kids in our school, it was up to me to protect them from the bullies. But I made that about me and how much I was struggling with that, not about the fact that they were dealing with racist assholes when that was the important part. And I… I probably need therapy, because everyone in my life has told me at some point what a narcissist I am.”

“I didn’t call you a-”

Amy raised an eyebrow. 

“... In so many words,” Nicole said. 

“Look, what I’m trying to say is… You don’t have to forgive me if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to. It’s just… It’s just difficult. I didn’t have to deal with anything like this before. I was a straight white boy, or at least I thought I was. The most I had to deal with was the rich kids at my school making fun of me and my siblings because we could only go there because my mom worked there, and honestly, most of them left me alone once I made the basketball team. So I’m getting used to the fact that I now have to think about how to deal with bigots. And I don’t know what the rules are.”

“Are there rules?” Amy asked. 

“I… I dunno. I don’t know anything.”

Amy smiled. “Isn’t that the first step towards enlightenment? Admitting all the things you don’t know?”

Nicole smiled back. “Doesn’t that mean you should do that too?”

Amy giggled. “Okay, fine. I admit that I don’t know shit either. Happy?”

“It’s a start,” Nicole said. “Like I said, I want to… I want to forgive you. But at the same time, maybe you need to forgive yourself?”

“Doesn’t that mean you should do that too?” Amy said back. 

“For what?”

“I think… Maybe you feel like you let yourself down, and that’s what’s getting to you. Like you went through your whole life thinking you were one thing and when it turned out you weren’t it felt like you were betraying yourself.”

“That… That… Huh,” Nicole said. Her shield hummed next to her heart. “Yeah, especially at first, I did feel like that. You’re pretty smart sometimes.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Much like you telling me I’m pretty was a compliment?”

Amy snapped her fingers. “Exactly.”

“Also, I feel like I should tell you this: you’re not a bad person. You said some bad things, but you seem to wanna make it up to me and to yourself. And I do appreciate that you’re trying. And that you’re letting me live with you. That’s… Honestly, that’s incredibly cool of you. And… I wanna be your friend. ‘Cause hanging out with you is fun.”

“Thank you. I want to be your friend, too.”

“That said, I’ve gotta say it: your boyfriend’s an idiot.”

“Pfffttt, yeah, he is,” Amy said, scratching the back of her head. “He’s sweet though.”

“And very pretty.”

“VERY pretty.”

“Like me?” Nicole asked. 

“Yes,” Amy said, booping her nose. 

Nicole smiled. “Well this has been an interesting day. How long have we been here anyway?”

Amy looked at her phone. “Twenty-three minutes.”

“Blue Blazes. It felt like hours.”

“That’s the weed talking, sweetie.”

“Ah, yes,” Nicole said. “Of course. What time are we meeting everyone at the church?”

“Not until tonight.”

“Oh, good. The high should fade before then, right?”

“I don't know, probably. How much weed do you smoke?”

“Uh… I don’t.”

“Ah. Well, if you want to sober up quick, just transform- trust me, it sets you back to baseline instantly. I’ve used it to avoid being drunk around my parents at least twice.”

“At least twice?”

“There’ve been other times where it may have happened. I’m not sure. You know, because I was drunk.”

“Thhaatttt makes sense.”

“Wanna go back inside?” Amy asked. “Get this move on the move?”

“Sounds good.”

They went back inside and coaxed Aidan and Curtis away from the bong. They loaded everything in Nicole’s old room into four full-sized cardboard boxes and carted it off.

***

Cass arrived twenty minutes early for their meeting at Saint Joseph’s, the screams of the damned echoing in her mind and soul. A Prophet. She was a Prophet. And she’d had a vision of… Perhaps not the end, but of something, something that involved the five of them. And possibly some others as well. It had been all she was able to think about that whole day, and was the only thing on her mind as she approached the church. 

She was just in time to see Father Gonzalez walk out of an exterior entrance to the church basement, his hands covered in ashes. 

She watched him amble into the church’s main entrance, and once he was inside, she went up to the basement. Locked. She gave it a knock. On the other side, a bestial howl ruptured the evening silence. Cass’ eyes went wide as shock sparked through her. What the hell… 

She held up a hand and reached into the doorknob with her telekinesis, invisible digits thin as threads weaving through the tumblers and looking for the right combination of-

“Whatcha doin’?” a light, airy voice spoke from behind her. 

“Gah!” Cass jumped. She spun around, beginning to channel God’s power through her arms and into her heart, but found it was just Nicole and Amy. Amy wore a white turtleneck sweater and blue jeans and carried her brown shoulder bag, while Nicole wore light blue maxi dress and a white shawl and a golden cross necklace. And… Amy’s usual shade of dark red lipstick by the look of it. It looked good on her. Cass made a mental note to ask Amy if she could borrow some before collecting her thoughts. 

“Woah there,” Amy said. “Calm down, kiddo. It’s just us.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Cass said, placing a hand over her heart. 

“Is everything okay?” Nicole asked. 

Cass gestured for them to bend down and listen closely. As the setting sun draped them all in red and gold, Cass whispered, “I saw Father Gonzalez walking out of here with ash on his hands, and when I knocked on this door I heard someone screaming on the other side.”

“What the heck?” Nicole said. 

“That’s what I thought. I was gonna use my telekinesis to pick the lock.”

“Why not just ask him what’s going on?”

“Because there are traitors in our midst! What if he’s one of them? What if he’s possessed?”

“Well there are ways to check that, and we have a relatively simple workaround for it,” Amy pointed out. 

“And I recognize that, but I’d really like to know what’s on the other side of this door.”

“Okay,” Amy said. “Pick that lock.”

“I dunno about this,” Nicole said. 

“Oh, don’t be such a goody-two-shoes.”

“Why does everyone keep calling me that?” Nicole whined. 

“Gee, I wonder,” Amy said. 

Cass went back to work on the lock. The first tumbler clicked, then the second-

“Hey hey hey, what’s going on here?” a new voice said behind them.

Cass jumped and yelped, though not as loud as Nicole and Amy both did. They all spun around, fists glowing, only to find Heather and Debbi standing there with steaming Styrofoam cups of what smelled like herbal tea in hand. Heather was dressed like she’d just come from class, clad in a form-fitting pantsuit with no jacket and a top with no sleeves- she did like to show off the guns- while Debbi wore what appeared to be Heather’s black and white high school basketball jersey as a baggy dress over dark purple leggings. Cass did a brief double-take as she registered that; those two were so confusing. 

“God, don’t do that!” Amy snapped. 

“Didn’t we just do that?” Nicole asked. 

“Shut it,” Amy rolled her eyes. At least these two were predictable. 

Cass explained the situation again in a hushed tone. They all agreed that they should really see what was on the other side of the door. Cass managed to get all the way through the next tumbler before yet another female voice broke her concentration and made her and her friends all jump. 

Cass didn’t recognize the other person this time. She looked like she was the same age as Amy, with ringlets of chestnut brown hair and blue eyes and a healthy bronze tan. She wore a yellow sundress in spite of the cooling weather, no sleeves and a short skirt and an ample view of her cleavage. Her makeup was immaculate, her eyebrows thin and even, her teeth straight and white and perfect. “Hiiiiii!”

“Oh, uh, hello,” Heather said, clearly trying hard not to get distracted by the view. 

Cass hoped this would be one of those times she could just ignore the stranger until they went away. It only worked about half the time, but still, the odds weren’t necessarily bad. 

Neither Debbi nor Nicole seemed to recognize this girl either. 

Amy, however, winced with bitter recognition. “Winona.”

“Always a pleasure to see you, Ms. Donahue,” Winona said, with a smile that seemed too genuine to actually be genuine. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your friends?”

Amy grinded her teeth. “These are my little sisters Debbi and Cass, and our friends Nicole and Heather. Now please leave.”

“Awwww, but I wanted to talk to you!” Winona said. “We haven’t gotten to hang out in so long!”

“Yeahhh, you ever think there might be a reason for that?”

“No. Why?” Winona said with a head tilt. Then, her eyes turned over towards Nicole. “But if you’re not willing to talk to me, maybe your friend here will. Hi. I’m Winona. Are you Nicole or Heather?”

Nicole got very flustered very quickly. She was apparently having a similar problem as Heather presently was of keeping her jaw off the floor and an ‘awooga’ sound from coming out of her mouth. “N-Nicole. Nicole Nygaard.”

“Oooh, alliterative- just like me! The full name’s Winona White.”

“That’s, uh, a, um, really pretty name.”

“Thanks. So’s yours- it’s a superhero name,” Winona giggled. “Hey, you’re not one of those magical girls by any chance, are you?”

Nicole squeaked. 

“Kidding!” Winona laughed. “That was strictly jocular. But if you are a magical girl, well, then I’d have to tell you you’re both beautiful and heroic- that’s a heckuva combination.”

Nicole started giggling uncontrollably- oh dear. Oh sweet summer child , Cass thought. She’s really not used to this yet.

“So, cutie, are you doing anything this Friday?” Winona asked, taking a step towards Nicole, running a hand through her perfect hair, flashing those perfect teeth.

“Uhhh,” Nicole said, her queer little brain clearly short-circuiting. 

Amy put a hand between Nicole and Winona. “Back. Off. White.”

“Awww, why you gotta be like that?” Winona said, pouting. “I was asking an honest question.”

“She’s not interested,” Amy growled. 

“Then why don’t you let her say that? A girl oughta be able to speak for herself. You know all about that, dontcha Ames?”

“Don’t call me that. Only my boyfriend gets to call me that,” Amy hissed. 

“Fair enough. But my point still stands.”

Amy grunted, then moved out of the way. Cass watched the scene play out with a hand under her chin, wondering for not the first time if the gays were okay. 

Nicole gulped. “I, uh… I’m actually busy this Friday- I have a date with a guy on the hockey team. I’m flattered though-”

“What about Saturday then?” Winona asked. “I’m just saying, girl’s gotta keep her options open.”

“Sure!” Nicole said, eyes wide with happiness. “Let’s swap digits!”

“Let’s!” 

They exchanged phones, and Winona gave a wave and walked away, dancing in the setting sun. Once she was gone, Amy turned her disapproving glare over to Nicole. Oh boy , Cass thought. I haven’t seen that since I told her I bombed my SATs. 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Amy said. 

Cass went back to work on the lock, but kept listening. 

“You didn’t warn me, you just tried to block me,” Nicole said. “Why?”

“Because that girl is really entitled and possessive and GROSS.”

“Why, because she’s queer?” Nicole asked in monotone. 

Third tumbler. 

“No! Of course not!”

“Amy, you don’t have a great track record on these things- forgive me for not giving you the benefit of the doubt,” Nicole said. 

“Seconded,” Heather said. 

“Okay, fine,” Amy started, “Winona and I met during my freshman year. She got wicked, wicked into me very quickly and asked me out. I told her ‘no’ quite firmly, and she did not like that. She started harassing me, asking me out every time she saw me. It went on for an entire semester, and when I tried to tell people about it, they laughed at me. And then she managed to convince my boyfriend at the time that I was some kind of gay homophobe using him as a beard. He dumped me- on my birthday, no less. There? Are you happy?! That’s why you want nothing to do with this girl- she’s an entitled creep.”

Nicole and Heather both looked utterly mortified. 

Fourth tumbler. Cass’ wrist was starting to hurt, her fingers starting to throb. She’d been a high school sophomore when the whole Winona incident went down, recently transferred to a boarding school in Massachusetts, back when the team consisted only of herself and Amy. They’d always been willing to confide with each other on matters of the heart- Cass regarding her inability to keep a guy past the first date, or occasionally the first hookup, and Amy about guys her sister liked asking her out, and about the Winona incident. It had severely messed her up, mostly because she’d really liked the boy in question when Winona went about torpedoing the relationship. It had hurt enough that Amy had struggled to even mention the whole affair for years. But apparently, Winona still went to their school, meaning they had to deal with her in some capacity.

Fifth tumbler. God, her hand hurt. 

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” Nicole said. “I’ll blow off the date with her.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You do what you want- it’s possible she’s changed in the past few years. Just… Brings up a lot of bad memories.”

“That’s understandable,” Heather said. She flexed with her muscular arms and said with a faux-Brooklyn accent, “You want I should, uh, teach her a lesson?”

Cass chuckled, while the others laughed more audibly. 

“Also, you got a date with a hockey player?” Debbi asked, changing the subject. “Which one?”

“Curtis O’Hare,” Nicole said, her voice dripping with the poorly repressed lust of a devout Catholic. “My old roommate.”

“Niiiiiice!” Debbi said, a similar tone in her voice. Cass heard a high-five behind her. 

Heather started, “Light me a-”

“Oh, don’t you start,” Debbi cut her off. 

The lock finally clicked open. Cass’ hand throbbed with pain- she wasn’t used to more delicate applications of her telekinesis. Probably only able to manage that because all five of us are here, she thought. I wonder what else I can manage with the whole team present? I’ll have to run some tests- actually, we should all run some tests. 

“Okay,” Cass said. “Let’s take a peek inside.”

The door opened a crack, only to reveal someone on the inside tied to a chair with a bucket of water hanging over their head. And that someone was Bishop Marcus Roberts!

“Holy shit,” Debbi whispered. 

“We gotta help him,” Nicole said. 

“Abso-”

A sound poured out; a toilet flushing; a door opening; someone walking out into the main room of the basement. 

Cass closed the door and scampered away, the other girls following her. They cleared two blocks before they came to a halt. 

“Okay, so Father Gonzalez has the Bishop tied up in the Church basement,” Heather said. “That’s… Worrying.”

“You think he’s the Judas?” Debbi asked. 

“I mean, I doubt he was giving the Bishop a stern talking-to about trans rights,” Heather said. “No offense, Nicole.”

“None taken,” Nicole said. “We need to go confront the Father about this.”

“Confront the Father about what?” Father Gonzalez said. 

They all jumped, and they all screamed. 

“Father Gonzalez!” Debbi said. “What are you, what uh, how are you- why are you here?”

“I picked up some munchkins. Thought it would be a nice addition to tonight’s meeting,” he said, holding up a Dunkin’ Donuts box. “What’s going on?”

They all looked at Cass, clearly expecting her to take point. Granted, she had been taking point on this one already, but… Actually, no, that’s totally valid. I was the one being proactive. “Why are you keeping the Bishop tied up in the basement?”

Father Gonzalez sighed. “Could we maybe have this conversation back at the chapel?”

Reluctantly, Cass nodded. They went to the Church, where Father Gonzalez dunked his hand in the Holy Water and then explained the situation. They took a brief trip to the basement, and a splash of Holy Water on the Bishop’s face clarified things further.

Once that was done, they returned to the Church and Cass explained to Gonzalez what had happened towards the end of last night. He sat down in a front row pew, horror exploding on his aging face, hand over his mouth. Nicole sat down next to him, trying to size him up. Amy sat behind them both, ruminating with her fingers steepled together in front of her chin. Debbi and Heather sat before the altar, facing the rest of them, right next to each other. Cass was caught in the middle, pacing up and down the center. 

“How do we want to play this?” Heather finally asked. 

“I think the first thing we should ask is why you kept this from us, Father,” Nicole said. 

“Seconded,” Debbi said. 

“Very well,” Father Gonzalez said. “I was actually going to tell you about this tonight.”

“Well that’s certainly convenient,” Amy said. 

“I was, honestly,” Gonzalez said. “Again, I bought munchkins because I wanted to soften the blow. You have to believe me.”

“Okay,” Nicole smiled. 

“Nicole, no,” Amy and Debbi said simultaneously. 

“What? He told us the truth as soon as we found it- it’s not like he was keeping the Bishop in a remote location. It’s right below us, he had to have known we would’ve found it quickly,” Nicole said. She trusted Gonzalez implicitly, and Cass understood why, but the simple truth was that Cass had known the Bishop for far longer. Father Gonzalez had only been here a year and Cass wasn’t sure she could simply take him at his word the same way. 

“That said,” Nicole continued, turning towards the middle aged priest, “If nothing else, it’s cruel to leave him like that. I know the Bishop and I haven’t gotten along lately, but he’s tied to a chair being held prisoner in his own body. I just don’t know if I’m okay with that, Father.”

Gonzalez gave a small smile. “You have a kind heart, Mija- and a good point. I’ll admit, I’m wading out into the moral gray territory by doing this- it was why I wanted to loop you all in as soon as possible. But you have to understand- I did this for a reason. We are in combat with an enemy we don’t have a clear picture of- that demon can change that.”

“He’s gotta point,” Amy said. “I’ll admit, I don’t know the Geneva Convention’s stance on something like this, but how else are we gonna find out who our enemies are and make any progress?” 

“Maybe we should put it to a vote?” Debbi offered. 

“An excellent idea,” Gonzalez said. “You all know my stance on this matter, so I’ll abstain from casting a ballot. If you young ladies are not comfortable with what I’m doing, morally, I will acquiesce and we will exorcize this Cyrus tonight.”

“Cyrus?” Cass said. “That’s the demon’s name?”

“Yes. Or so he claims, at least. Why?”

“I’ve heard of him,” Cass said. “A demon I fought back in high school mentioned him. Said he was afraid of him.”

“Was I there for that one?” Amy asked, scrunching her brow 

“Yeah,” Cass said. “It was the time we fought a demon infesting a Confederate flag at a Civil War reenactment.”

“Oh yeah- that was a weird day.”

“So we’ve got a heavy hitter in the basement right now?” Heather asked. 

“Potentially. Demons do lie,” Cass said. 

“So then let’s vote,” Debbi said. “All in favor of keeping him prisoner until we can get him talking?”

Cass and Amy voted for keeping him hostage. Nicole and Heather voted against. 

“Deborah,” Gonzalez said, “Where do you stand? You need to break the tie.”

Debbi chewed on her lip as they all stared at her intently. Finally, she said. “I vote we keep him where he is. But I also wanna suggest a compromise: we hold him for one week. If we can’t get anything out of him by this time next Monday, we cut him loose. But we also need to take a more proactive approach- no more letting the bad guys come to us.”

“We could start nightly patrols again,” Cass suggested. 

Heather snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, like we did last spring.”

“Or when I was flying solo,” Cass said. 

“Good idea!” Debbi said. “We start actively seeking out the enemy at night. And we will regroup in one week about this. All in favor?”

Everyone raised their hands, and they called it a night. 

Cass watched Debbi and Heather clear out of the church, and watched Amy and Nicole bickering with each other as they left. Finally, it was just Cass and Gonzalez.

“Something you wanted to talk about, Mija?” Father Gonzalez asked in Spanish. 

Cass reached her throbbing hand out and forced Gonzalez’s dagger from the leather scabbard on his hip. She held the knife in her hand, at the ready for Gonzalez. “Don’t ever make that kind of unilateral decision without consulting us- without consulting me- again,” Cass replied in Spanish.

“Si,” Gonzalez nodded, utterly unfazed. 

“I mean it, Father,” Cass said, handing the knife back to him. “I don’t want this to happen again. Something big is coming, and we can’t be going behind each other’s backs.”

Gonzalez nodded solemnly, as if he completely agreed that he’d dropped the ball and wanted to improve. Cass wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. It didn’t matter- this could not happen again. No more going over her head, no more people who thought they knew best taking the decisions that were meant for her out of her hands. She was a Prophet, dammit- on these matters, she could sincerely say she knew best. 

She walked out of the church, and her friends were waiting for her. 

“Oh,” Cass said. “You guys are still here?”

“Yeah,” Debbi said, “Buddy system.”

“Come on, shorty,” Amy said. “Let’s all have a study party for an hour or two, then patrol for a while. Sound good?”

Cass cracked a smile in spite of herself, and she nodded, reassured by the fact that there were at least a few people she knew she could trust.   

[formlesschromatic]

You try to focus, unpick the tangled web of familiar magics woven by alien minds, but it's then that the first of the cannon opens fire, shattering your concentration and, a moment later, a Daemonette.

Zeugma!

You turn your attention back up to the higher Daemon, but to your shock it's not being torn asunder, but instead has wrapped itself around Deathfang's neck and is slowly sinking the claws of one hand into a gap between the hard scales and fending off Asarnil's sword with the other. Then the Daemon shrieks in pain and anger as a Silver Bolt lodges in its back, and that moment of distraction settles it for you: it's time to act. [Instant reinforcements: Req 50, Learning, 45+28=73.] [Swing: Martial, 4+23=27 vs 39+40-30(Unaware)-10(Wounded)=39.] You could picture it so perfectly in your mind: you appear standing on Deathfang's neck, sword already mid-swing, and you take the Daemon's head neatly off its shoulders. You save Deathfang, Asarnil pledges eternal friendship, Deathfang shares some juicy dragon secrets, happy ending for everyone but the Tempter. The Daemon has other ideas. In an instant its talons are out of Deathfang's neck and catching Branulhune in mid-air, and though daemonic ichor spills forth, it manages to arrest the swing of the runic blade. It catches your gaze in its own, and in a moment you know that it was capable of offering you any pleasure imaginable and some that weren't, but all it was willing to grant you was pain.

alas, it would have been so cool 😔

"Well then," he says, and slaps his knee determinedly. The rest of you follow him as he delves back into the depths. "Ahoy!" he shouts, and you're barely able to grab him by the collar and yank him out of the path of an incoming crossbow bolt. "Hold fire, damn it," he bellows, and you sigh and give him another yank as a crossbow bolt tinks off the stone behind where he was. "You're back in the mountains! You're safe!" "Oh aye?" comes a voice from the darkness. "Well, we'll just let our guard down then, shall we? Parades and feasts and the High King here to shake our hand and tug our beard too, I expect. Wives and gold for everyone. Got that about right?" There's a chorus of chuckles echoing from the darkness. You can see realization hit Snorri. "But it's real," he says to the darkness, and scornful laughter is all he gets in response. Well, that and a third bolt, but he's already stepping out of the path of that on his own. A few minutes later at a much safer distance from what appears to be the front lines, Borek is nodding to a crestfallen Snorri. "One of my cousins spent three days camping outside the gates because he forgot the pass-phrases and the Winds were blowing too hard for the Runemasters to confirm his identity," He says. "Daresay these lads have learned even harsher lessons than the Chaos Wastes taught us. Probably had a dozen rescues, and much grander than this one." "But it's real, they're safe now," Snorri says. "Shouldn't that count for something?" "Reality is never as convincing as something designed to be convincing," you say. "Could get Thorgrim here and they'd probably think that his beard should be longer and his Throne bigger." "They'd be expecting Alriksson anyway," Borek says. "Doubt they've heard of Thorgrim." "Exactly, so-" you pause as you consider that. "That's it." "What's it?" Snorri asks, but you're already heading back down.

as we all know, reality is unrealistic

"It will take more than one earthquake only the Rune-pokers can feel before I stick my neck out." "Here, I think I've got an idea. Budge over." A moment later, a much louder voice asks, "what about the Elgi? They turn up for this Great War of yours?" You smile. "They sent three people and they still act smug about it." Silence answers that. "I think it might be real," someone finally says.

lol

tho it was Tecils

 Look, I won't pretend that I know the inside of a Dwarven head better than you, but I do know how to manage paranoia. I grew up in a College dedicated to it." "She's right," Johann says. "Like long-tailed cats in a room full of rocking chairs, the lot of them."

great mental image

He looks at you, snorts, and produces a clipboard from behind his beard. "Name, alias, or pseudonym?" he asks, sounding as bored as any gate guard you've ever met. You scramble for anything that's not your actual name or 'Grey'. "Gabriella," you land on. "Gabriella von, er, Nachthafen." "Gabriella von Ernachthafen," he repeats, carefully scrawling runes with a quill. He looks you up and down. "Grey, Black, Thrall, or incognito?" You blink at him. "Incognito," you say. "Buying, selling, or both?" "Buying." "Have you brought any of the following goods to Uzkulak: bound Daemons, precious stones or metals from Nehekhara, any seed, bud, fruit, or cutting from Athel Loren, unshielded warpstone, spherical devices made of brass, Vampire body parts, any item created or possessed by the Skaven Clan Pestilens, gilded skulls made of black bone, anything from the Temple-City of Zlatlan, any mummified bodies of large, frog-like beings, unshielded wyrdstone, any kind of projectile capable of moving on its own, any of Kadon's Scrolls of Binding, golden whistles, instruments stringed with unicorn hair, keys made of crystal, or any sort of stone that glows with a green light?" "No." "Have you brought any slaves with you with any of the following qualities," he looks up at you, "well, do you have any slaves at all?" "No." The Dwarf scans down the page to the next section, and sighs before looking back up. "Gabriella von Ernachthafen from no organization in particular, welcome to Uzkulak," he says, his tone droning and his gaze boring into yours and making it clear he resents you very much for being here and making him do this. "This place is a place of trade and profit. As long as you follow our rules, you may trade and you may profit. Rule One: All exchanges are to be witnessed by an Officiant, and a percentage of the price is to be paid to the Officiant. The percentages for each type of goods can be found on display in the Trade Hall. Rule Two: Do not attack other visitors within Uzkulak, nor within sight of the flames of Uzkulak, under any circumstances. Rule Three: If you stay for more than one day and night, you must rent accommodation. The list of available accommodations is available in the Trade Hall. Breach of any of these rules will result in your death or enslavement, and the forfeiture of all your property. Do you understand these rules?" "Yes," is all you can say. "You have entered at night. Dusk tomorrow is the limit of your stay without renting accommodation. When you exit Uzkulak, ensure that you are recorded by the attendant at that exit, or you may be incorrectly marked for death. Glory to Hashut."

ah a devious evil of the Chaos Dwarfs, Bureaucracy. :v

okay starting another Divided loyalties readthrough. going to post stray thoughts and comments here reacting to it.

Better clean the… whatever that was… off you, because it's time for the ceremony. Thankfully your normal grey robes count as formal dress, because otherwise you wouldn't have a thing to wear.

there are many benefits to being a wizard

[ladyfly]

The Great Musical Upgrade

The hallways are dark and quiet. You had finished another nighttime task. One of the gaters at Monty's Gater Golf had broken down. It was stuck part way out of the water and endlessly growling. It almost gave you a headache. As long as nothing else happened you were free to get some rest.

You didn't really have an official place to call your own in the plex yet. They were building you one down in the lower tunnels. Not ideal but better than spending the night away from your two favorite jesters. How anyone could abuse the pair was baffling to you.

You passed by the newest nighttime security guard. A young lad named Braxly. He hated his name so most people called him Axle. You two swapped a wave on your way to the daycare.

You had heard the boys got a new upgrade but not what it was. It wasn't cosmetic, that much you did know. It was something involving their code. That terrifies you. Who knows what they changed! You pass the fountain to the daycare. A few coins sit inside. Briefly you consider taking a few but decide better of it.

As soon as you open the doors to the daycare you hear a very loud "Sunshine!"

From down below you watch Sun call his wire. He practically rockets up to where you are. You can hear a strange sound as he gets closer. It seems he can hear it too. It takes you a second to recognize the song. It's 'My Girl' by The Temptations.

Sun slaps a hand over his chest. His rays shrink into his head and he takes off to his room. You tilt your head for a second. What the hell is happening. You run as fast as you can to the theater. Whatever is going on you will help Sun through it. Why was his chest playing that song in particular?

You catch your breath at the door to Sun and Moon's room. You can hear sun inside arguing with Moon about something. You open the door without knocking as you have done so many times before.

Sun turns to you. His chest blares out "Well I guess you'd say, What can make me feel this way, My girl, my girl, my girl, Talkin' 'bout my girl, my girl, talkin' 'bout my girl!" Sun buries his face in his hand and groans.

You snicker "Sunny. What is happening?"

Sun sighs dramatically "We got a new upgrade to our mu-"

The lights turn off. You hadn't been keeping track of the time. Sun shifts to Moon. As his eyes fall on you the song also shifts. Van Halen's 'Why Can't This Be Love' blares from his chest "Whoa here it comes, That funny feeling again, Winding me up inside, Every time we touch."

Moon immediately books it to the balcony and dives into the ball pit. You run to the edge and watch him run to one of the play structures. You run once again back down to the daycare. When you reach the play structure Moon is hiding in you can still hear the music. You have an hour before Sun comes back.

It takes you longer than you'd like to get to Moon. Along the way you can hear Moon trying to stop the music. You can also hear the song loop. Finally you reach the lunar animatronic. His chest blares "It's got what it takes, So tell me why can't this be love, You want it straight from the heart, Oh tell me why can't this be love!"

It clicks in your head. Both songs played are love songs. Do they really love you? Moon pulls his hat over his head and curls in on himself. You place a gentle hand on his knee. Moon shuffles away from you.

You crawl further into the tiny room "what's going on? Sun said you got an upgrade?"

Moon peeks at you before hiding again "We got an upgrade to our music box. It can now play any song we want. At first it was fine but now? Every time we think about you it plays these songs! We can't stop it!"

You scoot closer to him "Do... do you have feelings for me? I have them for you."

Moon's eyes shoot to yours. 'Dream Weaver" By Gary Wright cuts off Van Halen. Moon blushes brightly "You do?"

You lean forward and kiss his teeth "Yes. I do."

Moon leans into your touch and pulls you close to his frame "Sun is screaming in our head. He says to tell you we are not letting you go tonight."

You laugh "What if I have to pee?"

Moon does not skip a beat "Then you pee yourself."

[ticklepinions]

7 Things I Love About Nick Nelson

A/N: Okay. Scary stuff but trying something new. Idk what I'm doing tbh.

Word Count: ~700

Dear diary,

My therapist thought it would be a good idea to write things I care about to help ease my ~crippling depression~ haha. And one of the things I care about most is, Nick…

There's a lot to love about him…

Entry 1: His smile

I remember it like it was yesterday; walking into home form and seeing his smile for the first time… Definitely would have been my gay awakening if I knew him when I was younger. 

His smile just… Just makes me feel warm inside. Like a million butterflies are swirling around inside me. And that stupid lil smirk of his is enough to make me dizzy. 

Entry 2: His eyes

He doesn't think I notice but he stares at me a lot… Personally I don't think there's much to look at. But I guess it feels nice to have someone not take their eyes off of you. Maybe my hair was messed up? But he does that every chance he gets… Is my hair messed up all the time??? 

Whenever I decide to catch him in the act he looks away shyly and a blush creeps up on his face. He's adorable

Entry 3: His Arms

He teases me about it all the time, but can you blame a boy :(? The first time I saw him in a tank top I thought I was going to die. They're just so massive… And he likes picking me up, honestly wish he did it more- The way he squeezes me tight in a hug is just- I love him so much

Entry 4: His kindness

I thought he was like the other rugby boys, and so did my friends. But he just has this gentleness about him. Tao called him a himbo but he's far from being a complete idiot (although he is still my idiot <3). Elle said he was like a golden retriever and I think that's just a better fit. He's just so happy to be around his friends and help out anyway he can. Like today he helped an older person cross the street- in the rain! He even gave them his umbrella. Come to think of it… Why is it a common thing for him to be soaking wet in the rain? Maybe Tao was right-

Entry 5: He's tall

Yeah- that's it <3.

Entry 6: He Loves Me

He's not afraid to be around me like Ben was. He holds my hand when we're walking. He's always kissing me and telling me he loves me. I just. I feel safe with him and he's made me so happy. 

Entry 7: His laugh

It's really one of my favourite sounds. When he finds something really funny his nose scrunches up and his face goes all red! I got several bruises from him slapping my knee cause he was tickled by one of Tao's jokes. Speaking of tickling, he's very sensitive. It's really cute. He gets all jumpy and snorts when I tickle his armpits. I love it when he laughs when we're kissing. 

Today we were watching a movie and I tuned out for two seconds and next thing I knew I was on the floor. The mad lad pulled me down because he was absolutely hysterical. He doesn't get laughing fits that often but a reminder to self; stay at least 6 feet away unless you want to be collateral damage. 

I haven't heard his laugh today, time to change that

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The boys sat in Charlie's room, Nick finishing up some of his math homework and Charlie sat on his bed journaling. 

"Have I told you how much I hate math" Nick groaned as he bit his pencil in concentration.

"Only about a hundred times…" Charlie retorted, closing his notebook.

"Why don't you take a break? I think I know what'll make you feel better"

Nick grinned, excited to get some well-deserved kisses, but Charlie had other plans...

(Spoiler alert: Nick did get his kisses, but those weren't what took his breath away ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).