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hqcult · 3 years

Text

21ST ## the miya twins

you visit hyogo to celebrate your 21st birthday with your extended family. you met atsumu and osamu, who were oh so excited to meet you.

. tw manipulation, pseudo-incest, noncon, cunnilingus, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mindbreak, implied double penetration, dark content . wc 4.3k

looking back, the twins are good fucking actors. they deserve some oscar-level award with how much they smiled those sweet honey smiles and lured you into a sense of security before baring their fangs and pulling you down to hell with them. but they never would’ve gotten the chance to act if you hadn’t been there as their audience. so, the truth remains the same—this is all your fault. you never should’ve insisted coming to hyōgo in the first place.

ever since getting adopted at the tender age of thirteen and moving to tokyo, you’ve seen everything there is to see, ate at every restaurant with a 5-star review on google. you’ve done them all at least thrice by now and it’s getting boring.

so, when your adoptive father had jokingly talked about coming to hyōgo to meet your extended family for your 21st birthday, you perked up in your seat and your eyes twinkled like stars.

your mom didn’t want to go at first, of course, claiming you’ll get carsick but your parents eventually gave in after seeing the pleading look in your eyes and the genuine excitement in your stance.

long story short, you did end up getting carsick. quite a few times too, actually. but you were already driving along the expressway and your mom’s sister was already expecting the three of you. so, naturally, you guys pushed through, your dad making sure he drove as smoothly as possible in order not to trigger another barfing session from you.

it was twilight by the time your dad pulled up on his sister-in-law’s driveway and the first you see were two identical faces—twins? for step-cousins? well, now that was something. you’ve never really met twins before so it was a whole new experience and it excited you greatly.

not to mention how you and atsumu instantly hit it off, your personalities aligning. yet when you sat next to osamu during dinner, the younger twin found it wasn’t as hard talking to you compared to his brother. in fact, he found it interesting how easy it was to converse with you, the words flowing out his lips. you were just so painfully compatible with them that why oh why did the universe have to make you their half-cousin?

the shift in their behavior wasn’t at all gradual but can you really blame them? you were such a good daughter, such a beauty. and they guess the whole ‘pseudo-incest’ taboo thing amplified your appeal all the more.

well, at least in their defense, atsumu and osamu genuinely wanted to get to know their new cousin in the most innocent, platonic way and not this weird thing they’re feeling right now. but you were so damn irresistible that they couldn’t keep their feelings in check.

how kind of ‘samu to grab the coffee container at the topmost shelf for you during breakfast, not knowing he purposely puts it there every night so he can “accidentally” rub his morning wood against your ass.

your ‘tsumtsum is such an angel when he doesn’t hesitate to take off his outerwear and lends it to you whenever you forget yours, not knowing he snatches them from the laundry basket and leaving you no choice but to use his. the sweet scent you leave on the jacket is enough to throw him off the edge and have him climaxing as he fucked his own hand.

nobody noticed, everyone was distracted by their achievements at such a young age. all their mom had to say is how osamu yet again made it to dean’s lister or how atsumu got scouted for a national team.

your mom and dad didn’t notice, lost in the daydream of always wanting to have their own son only to end up with you. blinded of their dazzle that the rotten pieces of them were fully camouflaged by the glow.

it all came to a peak when the twins were pulling all-nighter playing games like always.

atsumu needed to use the restroom, and just as he’s passing by your door, he heard a questionable sound that made him stop, frozen and unbelieving.

carefully, he tiptoes closer to place his ear against your door, praying to whomever that the floorboards don’t creak and disrupt whatever you’re doing. silence, seconds of it. then click, a switch turning on, he hears low vibration and a shaky whimper, a slick sound that reminded him of—

you were touching yourself.

holy fucking crap.

atsumu can only stare at the door with a knowing curl in his lips as he quickly pushes down his boxers. the risk of getting caught masturbating so out in the open making all the blood rush south.

“guess yer not as innocent as i thought ya were,” he mutters, spitting on his palm before wrapping it around his dick.

he shut his eyes close, clinging desperately into the imagination of how it would feel like to fuck your cunny instead of his hand. how the view would be like as he forces your legs up and into a mating press as he rutted his hips into you. at least you were loud, the moans he can hear as clear as day and he’s thankful he needn’t depend on his imagination anymore like all the other times.

you better be fucking thankful that the rest of the rooms were downstairs or else your parents and their mom would’ve heard by now. eh, atsumu didn’t mind. he got off on the risque idea of getting caught in the act.

when your pitch grows whinier and he hears your quick rufflings on the bed, he knows you’re close. he can hear the frantic and changing levels of the vibrator as you fucked it into your walls.

“fuck,” he hissed, the mental image of you masturbating and putting on a show for him making him teeter over the edge.

he grunts, low and animalistic, as spurts of his cum stains his hands and the floor. he didn’t care. he pumped himself through his orgasm and it was the best he’s ever got in a while. who knew all he needed to hear was his little step-cousin lewdly touching herself? naughty, naughty girl.

when he heard your panting after cumming against your little toy, he took his cue and speed-walked towards his and osamu’s bedroom to get a cloth he’ll use to clean the front of your door. but just as he caught you in the act, he caught his own brother red-handed, too.

the tiny specks of cum on the wall where osamu stood is a ghastly sight but atsumu couldn’t care less.

silently, the twins exchanged a knowing glance.

“ya heard ‘er too?”

someone knocks on your bedroom door on the eve of your birthday.

osamu was tasked to wake you up while atsumu started the car. you didn’t respond. were you… he slowly opens the door, he spots you immediately in the bundle of blankets atop your bed. when he stalks closer, you looked so cozy that osamu almost got tempted to ditch the idiot and come snuggle with you under the blankets instead.

but he has two heads and the one he’s using to think is located south.

he wakes you up with a gentle shake on the shoulder. “‘samu?” you mutter, voice low and croaky from your deep sleep when you see a blurry tousle of gray hair.

“let’s do a countdown for yer birthday, angel. come on, put on a jacket. ‘tsumu’s already startin’ up the car.”

osamu’s blunt nails dug half-moon crescents into his palms as he saw your tiny pajama shorts and the slip top when you shoved the blankets away. he swore his palms would’ve bled, especially after seeing you bending over to look for a hoodie inside your luggage.

he stared so openly, it was almost predatory in a sense.

as you scamper down the stairs with the younger twin’s hands dangerously grazing the top of your rear, you thought it’s plain old protective ‘samu being worried you’ll make a misstep and break your neck.

“where’s everybody?”

“just us three, angel. ‘lil cousin bonding before yer big party tonight, y’know?”

you giggled. how sweet, you thought.

you didn’t sense a thing. didn’t see a single red flag even if it was being waved across your face like what they do in bullfights. osamu felt a little sorry for how they’re blatantly manipulating you but it’s too late to back out now, much less let the guilt eat up his insides. he shouldn’t be a hypocrite considering he jacked off to your moans, too, that night.

he’s really no different than atsumu and it’s a tough pill to swallow.

“shotgun!”

it wasn’t osamu that stops you, but atsumu, from scampering into the front seat. the older twin quickly locks the door before lowering down the passenger side’s window.

“nuh-uh, birthday girl. ya can’t sit here or the surprise’ll be ruined!”

you grumble, frowning as you scoot yourself in the backseat of the car. atsumu twists his torso towards the back, asking you to wear the blindfold he’s handing you. it was a little tough with how stubborn you are but ‘tsumu’s just too good with his words.

you drove for thirty minutes before the car pulled up somewhere. the world is tranquil outside, so you couldn’t have driven to the nearest city. your initial guess is a beach, but there were no splashes of water. maybe a cliff-side or a forest?

the car’s ignition turns off and you call out to the twins.

“‘tsumu? ‘samu? where are we? can i take my blindfold off now?”

“just a moment, doll.” there’s an excited lilt to atsumu’s voice and you can’t help but fidget in your seat, feeling the excitement crawling up your spine as you think of what their surprise could be.

you hear them clamber out the car. you scoot closer to the door just as the backseat opens, a silly smile on your face. “you guys didn’t have to do this, you know, but i appreciate it so mu—”

someone tackles you to the seat and the air gets knocked out of your lungs. he’s heavy and you felt the muscles underneath his shirt as you tried to push him away but to no avail—you know it’s a man, it has to be because you felt the broad shoulders and something poking at your thigh. you feel him nosing the side of your neck and his hands crawling under your shirt. his freezing skin against your own is what snapped you out of it.

“atsumu! osamu!” you cried, calling for help.

you inwardly gasped, realizing something. maybe they were hurt! maybe your assaulter had creeped up behind the twins just as they opened the door for you, knocked them out cold, before trying to have their way with you. at the thought of the twins getting hurt, you thrashed, fought, and screamed with newfound fervor.

“couldja calm down and shut yer fucking trap?”

when the blindfold flies away and you see the man straddling you on the backseat of atsumu’s car, how you wished your assaulter had never taken it off.

atsumu had never looked this scary from your point of view, then again he never straddled you like this in the weeks prior. never looked at you like how he’s looking now—there’s clear hunger and lust in those eyes. you’ve seen that look one too many times from boys back in your university when you had your one night stands. but it had all been consensual and you loved them looking at you that way but this is different.

so, so different.

you can’t look at him in the eye, not when he’s staring at you like that. it felt like you’re pushed into a corner, vulnerable and bare even with the clothes you’re wearing.

“please, get off of me.”

“get off ya?” he repeats, mirth in his eyes as he hauls you up to a sitting position. he finally shuts the door behind him. “but i’ve been wantin’ to do this for weeks.”

to further emphasize his point, he grounds his hips against yours, making sure the tip of his already erect cock grazes against the bud of your clit. his boxers and the thin fabric of your shorts isn’t helping. he groans wantonly, angling his hips to do it again until you slipped out from under him and maneuvered your way to the other door.

osamu! osamu will stop him, you thought with teary eyes as atsumu growls and quickly pulls you back by the forearms, your back to his chest as you try to claw your way out of the athlete’s grip.

“‘samu! ‘samu, help me!”

but when the said twin opens the door and slips inside the car with little to no surprise present in his face, a type of fear you’ve never felt before runs up your spine. the look in osamu’s eyes reflected that of his twin’s and with sinking realization, you knew he wasn’t there to help you.

“happy 21st birthday, angel.”

and then he’s ducking down to kiss you. his lips are soft and they moved tenderly, in contrast to the barbaric way they tore at your clothes, the cold making you shiver in your underwear.

dealing with one sick person is enough, but with two, you’re not so sure. you only had two hands, if you pushed osamu away, atsumu would have free access and vice versa. your legs couldn’t move either, thanks to the cramped space of the backseat.

while holding down your hands, atsumu marks every inch of untainted skin he could see as osamu swirls his tongue inside your mouth. you’ve never felt so disgusted and dirty, but above all, betrayed. even if it was a few weeks since you’ve met, you still saw them as family. sure, you weren’t technically blood-related but in the papers it’s a different story.

when osamu pulled away, you averted your eyes but his hand reached up to hold your chin, forcing your eyes to meet. you feel his other hand trailing up your thighs, fingers dangerously close to your clothed sex as he watched you like a fox. he wanted to commit this moment to memory. every twitch and small gasp you make as his cold fingers pinched at your clit and traced your pussy lips.

“staying quiet, princess?” atsumu comments, hands snaking around front to squeeze and grope your breasts over the bra you wore. “ya weren’t like this when i caught ya touchin’ yerself last week.”

your eyes widened. when you tried turning your head to look over your shoulder towards the other twin, osamu shoved two fingers inside you.

your reaction was immediate. the pleasure and pain mixing as a loud gasp escapes your lips. “eyes up front,” he murmurs, the firm hold on your chin going higher to encase your whole jaw.

“oi, ‘samu, didn’t think you’re the possessive type,” atsumu says, teasingly placing his chin on your shoulder as he smiles that lazy smile you know osamu hates. “not that i’m going to lose.”

the older twin slips your bra off just as osamu takes his fingers out to lewdly lick up your slick. he moans, keeping his eyes trained on your horrified face. “sweet. but not wet enough for us, angel.”

“what—no—!”

“let me have a go.”

before you could even react, atsumu’s spinning you around to face him as he shoves your shoulders down. due to the cramped space, your head collides with osamu’s thighs, narrowly missing the tent in his joggers. the weight in his thighs makes the younger twin fidget and squirm as he hastily reaches for your hand, pulling his bottoms down just enough for his cock to spring out. you wince when it hits the side of your face. osamu loved the disgust in your face when he spat at your hand and used it to get himself off as he started stroking his cock.

meanwhile, in one swift motion, atsumu is pulling your panties down and licking a stripe up your cunny, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit as his hands come up to slap your pussy. “how dare ya be so quiet,” he hisses, sucking harsher on your clit to pull a reaction out of you. “let me hear ya whine and moan, babe. i’m fuckin’ sure as hell my tongue is better than some cheap ass vibrator ya used.”

but your lips are stubbornly sealed as you arched your back. like hell you’d play into their wants and sick fantasies. they were your cousins! forcing you to enjoy this is just downright wrong. and knowing they’ve eavesdropped and silently lusted over you while having those innocent little smiles on their faces… were they not in the least bit guilty for deceiving you? deceiving your parents?

“give ‘er somethin’ bigger. i think she’s askin’ for it.” osamu says, kneading one of your breasts and tweaking your nipples as he continued to pump himself using your hand.

because he lost to rock paper scissors, he’s going to fuck you after atsumu and no matter how furious he was, a deal’s a deal.

like an idea switching inside his head, atsumu falters, staring right at you with sparkles in his eyes before his lips curled into a devious smirk.

“no, no, no,” you scramble, trying to sit up in order to push him away but osamu is quick to pin you down. “atsumu—no—you don’t want to do this, please—!”

“shut it, princess. i know what i want and that’s to fuck yer sweet little cunny right ‘ere,” he mocks by planting a sweet kiss against your lower lips.

“can ya stop with the dirty talk my dick’ll go soft, ya scrub!” osamu hisses, his hands wrapped around yours getting tighter as the lewd sounds of his slick gets louder.

no matter how much osamu denies it, he’s getting off on seeing you squirming under atsumu and god he never thought to have a voyeurism kink but here we are.

atsumu shoves his boxers down and you turn away from glancing down at his cock, osamu had to ruthlessly pull your hair and make you look as you slowly start tearing up. he was bigger than most guys you’ve met in college and you dread the painful stretch it’ll take for him to shove that dick inside you.

“shh, princess. don’tcha worry, yer all prepped to take me.” he scissors your pussy lips, the sticky wetness creating lewd sounds before pushing his stained fingers into your mouth. “hear that? go on and taste yerself.”

he gave you no choice, fingers pushing your tongue down until you obliged to his wishes. from behind you, you hear a low grunt and a pant as osamu throws his head back. he was close, you could tell and you surely didn’t want your face to be near his cock once he cums.

“‘tsumu, god damn it! hurry and fuck ‘er already!”

osamu was close and his mind was clouded. he needed to see you get railed in order for him to teeter towards that delicious edge of pure ecstasy. needed to hear the noises like the ones you made that night.

“i got it, i got it. fuckin’ impatient bastard.”

“atsumu, stop—!”

but he doesn't bother to listen, pushing his cock deep all in a single thrust. you were right. the stretch slightly stings and you bet it would’ve hurt more had he not bothered to suck and lick at your pussy earlier. “it hurts,” you sob, trying to curl in on yourself while keeping atsumu from leaning in.

but your strength is no match for him as he peppers light kisses down your neck, osamu helping with pushing your hair away to expose more skin. “shh, shh,” the faux-blond coos. “it’ll get better, i promise ya. yer gonna love it so let me move, okay?”

“no, wait, take it out, wai—!”

he starts thrusting, timed and rhythmic as his hands reach under your thighs, slightly raising your lower body to meet the angle of his hips. you couldn’t deny that it felt good like he said. the heavenly drag of his dick inside your walls, feeling you squeeze around him just as he nearly pulls out, only to thrust it all back in again. he wanted to keep this “making love” pace as long as he wants but he’s getting irritated but how you still wanted to keep your pretty lips shut.

that’s when you truly felt the vehicle jolting back and forth, brought by the sudden way atsumu manically fucks you like some animal. the change of pace surprised you greatly, choking on your saliva and letting out a pornographic “ah!” as he started railing you in the backseat of his car. you were way past the point of no return as immense pleasure spiked your nerves. all thoughts of somehow fighting their advances being shot out the window.

“that’s it,” atsumu pants, swinging your legs up against your chest to fuck you even deeper. “come on, make some noise, princess. i want people to hear how good i make ya feel even if they’re miles away.”

after all this is over and the lustful haze they forced you under is gone, you’ll regret the way you moaned and groaned and whined like how you’re doing now. embarrassing, how even as atsumu leans closer to kiss you, you don’t push him away. a mess of saliva and sweat mixing as his pace doesn’t relent and the fierce jolts of the car only adds up to your pleasure.

“‘tsumu!” you screamed, one hand holding onto his hair and the other scratching at his back. “i’m close—shit!”

he replies with a moan of his own, drawn out and whiny, feeling your walls suffocating his cock as he continues to drive it in and out with a speed you’ve never experienced with your past rendezvous. perks of being an athlete, you guess. “don’tcha dare fuckin’ cum until i tell ya to or else.”

but that little devil is making it harder for you to obey him as one of his hands snakes in between your bodies to start toying with your clit, drawing firm circles and figure 8’s to draw in that eventual release. “no, no, ‘tsumu don’t!” you tried reaching down but his hand only tugs it back, firmly holding your wrist as he continues his ministrations.

it’s too much. you were feeling it all too much and in the heat of the moment, you forgot everything else—you arch your back and felt your climax crashing over you as your cum steadily makes a mess off the backseat with every thrust atsumu made.

he stops.

his head hangs low, looking at the view of your interconnected bodies before scoffing in disbelief. menacingly, he raises his head to make eye contact with you. “didn’t i fuckin’ tell ya to cum only if i tell ya to cum?”

the faux-blond grabs at your hair, ruthlessly tilting it back as you feel a sticky sensation running down your nether lips. you shake your head, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“but—!”

“i don’t care. i warned ya, didn’t i? so don’t fuckin’ hate me after all this is over.”

suddenly you feel your fight surging through you again like a tidal wave. this is wrong. how dare they do it even after you said no. how dare they do it and make you enjoy it?

“aw, cute. angel’s still got some fight in ‘er left.”

you thrashed against atsumu as soon as he swiftly pulls out of you. he doesn’t even break a sweat while restraining you with his bare hands.

“let me go! you fuckers! i’ll tell—”

“tell who? our parents? this isn’t elementary school, princess. ya get what ya fuckin’ deserve and it’s not our fault ya like swingin’ that pretty ass so much.”

you growl as a retort, attempting to bite atsumu’s hand off as he swiftly spins you around to lay on your stomach. you cringe, feeling your sticky essence against your skin. you didn't have time to feel humiliated, not as you came face to face with osamu’s still erect and angry dick.

you weren’t dumb, you knew why the faux-blond made you face his twins’ way—this is to be your punishment, he said, all the while feeling him scramble about behind you. it wasn’t only ‘til you feel atsumu’s tip prodding at your ass did you realize what’s going to happen.

“go on and give our ‘samu a nice suck, yeah? put on a show and if ya dare use yer teeth, i’ll personally make sure ya regret ever coming to hyōgo.”

you came back at dawn, during the sunrise. it’s glow basking the whole house in a nice orange tint. “what are you guys doing up so early?” your mom asks when she sees the three of you piling in from the front door.

she was too busy rubbing the sleep out of her eyes that she missed everything—the way osamu’s oppressive arm wrapped around your shoulder got tighter, the way atsumu gave you a nasty side eye, and especially the fearful expression on your face.

“no - nothing, mom. they just wanted to have a birthday countdown for me.”

“oh, right! happy 21st, sweetheart.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere hq #yandere atsumu #yandere osamu #yandere miya atsumu #yandere miya osamu #toxichours #(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) mine ༉‧#yandere atsumu x reader #yandere osamu x reader #yandere miya osamu x reader #yandere miya atsumu x reader #tw yandere #tw noncon #tw exhibitionism #tw:incest #tw voyeurism

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littlepadika · 3 years

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Kind of long but expanding on what you wrote about dark javi telling bebita she can't leave and she tries to run away and he punishes her for it, she's sick and tired of being locked away and isolated from everything she knew before taken in captivity. So she eventually attempts to make a run for it (maybe with her arms bound and tied because of a previous attempt at escaping failed so he doesn't trust her) when javi is doing something else. She gets only so far as the courtyard when javi runs and grabs her by her waist whispering "you're being very bebita trying to run away from papi again I'll show you who's in charge" and hurls her back into the house with him screaming kicking and crying, she then yells "i want to go outside i want freedom" and in return for say he slaps her on the face and roughly ripping off her clothes replying "don't you dare talk back like that to me"....

Okay anon i like your thinking but here's the thing... I don't think dark!Javi would slap you or do anything sexual without consent. He wouldn't want to mark you or bruise you because he wants to keep you looking pure and innocent. 😈

Here's my idea picking up from where you left off (minus the slapping)

Warnings: dark!Javi, kidnapping, deception, DDLG, manipulation, oral M receiving

DO NOT READ IF DARK CHARACTERS ARE NOT YOUR THING

gif by @a7estrellas

This was your fourth time trying to escape and Javi was getting tired of having to dole out the same punishments all the time. 15 spanks, binding your hands and ankles, and sensory deprivation in your room wasn't working. You were still resisting.

This time, when he carried you back inside with you kicking and screaming, he didn't say anything. He just set you down in your little bed and left you by yourself. You heard him go and lock all the doors, each of the many padlocks clicking shut. You heard him set his gun down on the table. You braced for the punishment but it never came. He didn't even tie you up.

"Please! Please let me go!" You begged when he walked by your door, but he didn't acknowledge you. You eventually fell asleep out of exhaustion.

The next day he didn't interact with you. He left your breakfast outside your door, mini pancakes, and sat at the table by the door working. He didn't ask you to play with him or tell you to get dressed. He didn't say anything when you came out of your room and wandered around. You could see the world outside through the bars on the window. The vast unknown did look a little scary.

"Please let me leave". You tried again, your voice hoarse from crying. But still Javi said nothing. He kept his eyes glued at his work. He looked tired of fighting you. His shoulders were slumped down uncharacteristically. His eyes were sad and stormy.

A whole day went by. He didn't speak to you, touch you, or even look at you. You felt so bad. You hurt his feelings and all he was trying to do was help you.

He used to try and give you a goodnight kiss and tuck you into bed but he didn't do it today. You missed it. You tip toed out of your bedroom in your skimpy pajamas he provided to see him still working at the table under the dim light. He was working this hard and this late for you. To protect you.

You longed for his touch, his sweet words. You feared your last escape had sucked the light out from him, the strength from his body. You worried he hated you. That he didn't love you anymore.

"Papi?" You tried using the name he liked. He looked up at you and you felt your heart soar in victory. "Are you going to tuck me in?"

"I don't know, bebita. I thought you hated me." He pretended to be very sad about this though inside he was cheering at your submission. He was prepared to keep up the act for a week but it only took a day. He had tried taking away your bed, your toys, and even sensory deprivation but none of that was effective as Papi deprivation. Cutting you off from his affection seemed to break you.

"I don't-I don't hate you. I'm sorry I made you sad, Papi. I know you're only trying to help me."

"Thank you for apologizing, bebita." Javi stood from the table and approached you. After days without any physical contact (from your last punishment and now) you melted into his arms. "Sweet bebita... I don't like it when we fight." He inhaled your scent and squeezed your ass in his large hands.

"I don't like it either, Papi." You whimpered. Javi could feel the fight in you waning. His plan worked. He knew you were so empathetic that you would give up your freedom if it meant keeping him happy.

"Are you going to be a good girl now, bebita? Are you going to stay where you belong?" He held your cheeks in his hands. He was looking at you with such love in his eyes. How could it be wrong if he loved you?

"Yes, papi." You murmured. You accepted that you weren't leaving ever and at least he made this hell better. At least you still had a purpose: to make him happy.

"Good, bebita." He led you back to your room and tucked you into the warm covers. You pulled him into a sloppy goodnight kiss.

"Stay, papi. Please? I don't wanna be alone."

"Okay." He clambered into your small bed with you. "I'll always be here, bebita."

"Are you still sad papi?"

"Yes, a little." Javi kept up the ruse, loving how you pouted at that.

"Do you want to give me... milkies?" It took you a minute to remember the term Javi used. Once you said it you felt yourself slip even further into littleness.

"Only if you want to, bebita." Javi tried to keep from grinding his cock into you.

"I wanna make Papi feel better." You reached out and cupped his growing bulge.

Now he was harsh with you. Javi relished your big eyes staring up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks as he fucked your throat. He couldn't keep quiet, grunting and moaning every time he pulled your head onto him. You little hands were planted on his thighs but they didn't scratch or resist.

"Fuck, bebita. You're making Papi f-feel so good... my good girl. Mine...Mmm... mmmm... oh shit!" He threw his head back against the bed as he came deep inside your mouth, smiling at the ceiling because he had finally won.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WELP now I’m 🌊

My masterlist

Safehouse fic

Safehouse with Dark!Javi

#dark!javi #dark!character #little!reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfiction #anon #ask padika #daddy!javi

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my-unmanageable-mischief · 3 years

Text

Rainy Summer Night

For the anon who requested : From the prompt list could you do 1,7&8 with Remus lupin or Sirius black your choice. Preferably marauders era? You totally don’t have to if you don’t want to

1 “Have you lost your damn mind!?” 7 “No, I don’t want you to get sick.” 8 “Stay here tonight.”

Sirius Black x Reader

The wind from the summer storm that was raging outside occasionally blew your curtains back. You liked the rain, it always made you feel cozy, and it was a welcomed relief after a few weeks of what felt like the hottest summer London had ever seen. Your whole room smelled of rain, and you were curled up in your bed, a mug of tea balancing on your knee as you flipped through a book you had read a million times.

Something small flew through your open window and gently rapped against your bookshelf, and it made you snap your head up. You looked towards the open window for a moment before letting your eyes drop back down to the page in front of you. A second object flew in and landed on your desk.

Slowly you got up out of your bed and went to your desk, picking it up. It was a small stone. You frowned and turned towards the window only to be pelted in the forehead with another small rock.

“What the hell?” You gasped, smacking a hand to the location it had hit. You went to the window looking out it. You spotted him immediately, standing in your side yard with a giant stupid grin on his giant stupid face. “Sirius?”

“Hello love,”

“Have you lost your damn mind!?” You hissed, leaning out of the window, hair whipping around from the wind. “What the hell are you doing here?” You asked incredulously. He continued to grin up at you, shrugging his shoulders.

“I missed you!”

“Shh!” You waved at him, “Keep your voice down,” You glanced down at the lattice work your mother had your father install years ago, Sirius followed your gaze, smirking.

“Gonna invite me up?” You glared slightly, shaking your head.

“I shouldn’t. Dad’ll kill me.” You warned him, “And you.” Sirius shrugged up at you, his big cheesy smile never once faltering. You looked at him, hair soaked to his forehead, clothes hanging from his body wetly. Only a t-shirt, the idiot.

“I’ll just stay here all night and come knock in the morning.” He offered cockily, and you rolled your eyes down at him.

“No, I don’t want you to get sick.” You finally relented, “But you need to be quiet, I mean it.” Sirius came forward, easily scaling the side of your building. He clambered through the window as silently as possible, and you stood waiting with your arms crossed.

“Hey you,” He smirked, coming towards you, and you pointed at him, shaking your head.

“Don’t hey me.” You walked away from him, towards your closet, “Don’t move.” You rummaged for a moment, finding a towel and tossing it towards him before finding one of your bigger sleep shirt and tossing that at him as well. “Do you think you could fit into my sweatpants?” You mused aloud, jumping when there were hands suddenly on your waist.

“I know I can certainly get into them, if that’s what your asking.” You turned in his arms, shaking your head.

“You know it’s not.” He chuckled and leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips, which you broke away from. “Do you want dry clothes or not?”

“I think I have, what’s it called, hypothermia, best cure is skin to skin contact I heard.” You smirked in return, finding an old pair of loose fitting sweatpants, handing them over.

“Looks like you’re gonna die then.” You patted his chest before moving away, going to curl back into your nest on your bed. “Change, you’re not getting in my bed all wet.” That got him moving, changing quickly into your pajamas, making you laugh. He stroke a little pose before coming towards you, crawling into the bed beside you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be wearing my clothes?” He questioned, cuddling up to your side. You smirked, turning a page of your book and allowing yourself to relax into him.

“Yeah but you look cute.” You assured, and he chuckled, placing a few kisses on the exposed skin he could reach. “Why are you here?” You asked, not looking at him. He tensed up slightly and shifted, getting comfortable.

“It’s romantic, isn’t it? Can’t I just want to see you?” You shrugged.

“Sure, you just usually show up during daytime hours.”

“Like I said, romantic.” You nodded, making a small ‘mmhmm’ noise. You were silent for a few moments, you reading- but not really. And Sirius alternating between kissing your shoulder and resting his head on it.

“Mother being terrible again?” You finally asked. He didn’t answer for a moment, but finally, you felt him nod against you.

“Yurp.” He popped his ‘p’. You nodded, turning the page of your book. You wrapped an arm around the boy, allowing him to snuggle in closer to you. You smiled as he did just that, wrapping his arms around you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“Stay here tonight.” You eventually murmured, and Sirius pulled back far enough to look at you, eyes soft.

“Really?” He asked hopefully, and you nodded, smiling gently.

“Really. In the morning sneak back out and go knock on my front door, dad won’t mind letting you in so long as the sun is up.” You assured. Sirius smiled, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“You’re the best.”

“I know.”

#harry potter #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #request

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harrystylesleftkneecap · 3 years

Text

JJ the comedian

Warnings : Slight smut, mention of death, alcohol, drugs, JJ being annoying,

Summary: JJ loved making inappropriate jokes, and when they become centered around you, the whole gang gets suspicious.

***GIF ISN’T MINE, ALL WRITING AND IDEAS ARE. I USED SOME DIALOGUE PROMPTS I FOUND OFF THE INTERNET***

JJ was notorious for being inappropriate. Pope often scolded him for it, while John B enjoyed his naughty jokes most of the time. Kie hated them obviously. And you rather enjoyed them as well. Until the comments began centering around you.

“JJ can you hand me that pen?” You asked, as he sat across from you. You were working at the wreck with kie, and the boys decided to come keep you some company in your last hour.

“Of course.” He replied, taking the writing utensil between his fingers.

He extended his arm to hand it to you, and you reached to take it from his grasp. Before you could grab it, he jerked it away.

“Beg for it.” He smirked.

This caused the other two boys beside him to snicker.

your face was hot with embarrassment. Although nobody knew what went on between the two of you behind closed doors, just the thought of the others thinking about you begging JJ for something was enough to make your heart race.

“JJ, c’mon.” You groaned, attempting to swipe the pen from his calloused hands.

He only held it farther form your reach, “C’mon, not like you haven’t begged me for anything before.” He teased.

This caused the boys to erupt in laughter.

You squinched your eyes together and pinched your nose.

There it was.

You knew his joke would get worse eventually, but you were praying to any higher power there was to simply prevent that from happening.

Kie scoffed before snatching the pen from his grasp and pulling you away from the unruly mess JJ had created.

She handed the pen to you and you fanned your face. You got embarrassed so easily, and it was always obvious to those around you. Your tell being the crimson splotches that would litter your body. There was no way you could effectively serve customers like this.

And part of you realized JJ knew that.

“He is such an ass, “ Kie began ,”But really, have you been begging for things behind closed doors?”

“Kie! Not right now!” You huffed, storming into the back of the kitchen.

The summer heat of the outer banks was beating down on your skin. You groaned as you rolled over on to your back, attempting to find a more comfortable position.

JJ was peacefully (for once) rolling a joint while John B and pope were fishing. Kie kept up small talk with you as the two of you tanned on the deck of the boat.

Eventually, you found JJ hovering over you with a freshly rolled joint in his hand. He extended it towards you and you gladly accepted. As you took the smoke into your lungs, you immediately relaxed. Happy to finally be enjoying some time with your friends.

JJ eyed you as your head fell back, and your breath fell past your lips as a smoky cloud.

“You know y/n, we could get naked.” he spoke, causing you to snap your head back to him.

“JJ!” You scolded, earning a few immature giggles from the fishing boys.

“What, it’s not my fault you keep turning me on.” He taunted, as you shot daggers through his thick fucking skull.

You stood from your towel and his eyes widened. In fear, and also partially excitement. JJ loved getting a rise out of you, but he was also very much afraid of you.

“What-”

A large splash followed the motion of you shoving JJ over the side of the HMS pogue.

“Atta girl.” John B snickered, watching his friend resurface from the water.

You laid back down on your towel, joint still in hand, as JJ clambered back over the side of the boat.

As a hurricane roared outside the chateau, rather loud music was blasting on the inside.

The five of you were drunk- well you were drunk, you could only assume the state of the others.

You and kie danced to a random song as the boys played cards on the counter.

L.A love by the one and only Fergie blasted through the small speaker, you and Kie feeling the music running through you.

At this point you and kie were borderline dirty dancing as the boys watched from a far.

“That’s kinda hot.” John B quipped, before laying a full house down in front of him.

“You got that right.” JJ said, taking a hit of his JUUL.

Your bodies repeatedly dropped and twisted, your ass shaking in your small pajama shorts.

The song ended, and the two of you made your way over to the boys in fits of giggles.

JJ smiled as you walked to him, and he swung and arm around your waist pulling you into him.

“were you trying to turn me on back there, or are you that oblivious?” He asked you.

In your drunken state, you only giggled, letting a soft maybe tumble past your lips.

“there is definitely something going on between them.” Pope grumbled, taking a sip from his beer as you and JJ shamelessly flirted with each other.

“I would bet money on that.” John B laughed.

And they were right. There was something going on between the two of you. It all happened one night at a kegger. You had just lost your mother, and you were doing your best to put up a front and have fun with your friends.

after several beers and unfortunately a few cigarettes, you found yourself sobbing in the chateau living room. After losing sight of you a while ago, JJ decided to try and find you.

He stumbled in the doors only to find you crying on the couch.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked softly, bending down and taking your face from your hands.

You didn’t answer. Your eyes mesmerized by his glassy blue ones. This is the first time you actually had a good look at the boy. His pink chapped lips sat perfectly on his face. His light stubble glistening from the beer remaining on his lips. His cheeks were flushed, and you don’t think you had ever seen anyone so beautiful before.

“no, i’m not.” You finally sniffled, tearing your eyes away from his.

“I know it’s hard y/n, but we’re gonna get through this together.” He told you.

“I don’t care, I just want to stop hurting.” You said, using your shirt to wipe the tears falling from your eyes.

You looked back into his eyes, and you made a swift decision.

You placed your hands on either side of his face, inching closer to him.

“Y/n what are you doing?” He whispered, and you shook your head.

“Just, please. I want to feel something other than pain.” You whispered back.

“I can’t, you’re not in a good state righ-”

“JJ.” You stopped him. You could practically see the gears turning behind his eyes.

“please” you muttered.

You closed the gap in between you, pressing your soft plump lips to his contrasting chapped ones.

You only barely pulled away to say, “I just want to stop hurting, even if it’s just for a little bit.”

JJ’s eyes softened as his replied, “Okay, I can do that.”

He wrapped his arms under your legs and he carried you to the spare bedroom.

You hadn’t really even made an agreement, when you were hurting you came to him. and vice versa. Eventually, it just happened more and more. You spent more nights together than anyone would have ever imagined. And the causal comfort of one another soon blossomed into something much more.

Nobody knew anything, until one morning John B went to wake JJ for an early morning fishing trip.

Without knocking, he entered his room. Not to be met with one sleeping figure, but two. And upon closer inspection, he realized who was wrapped up in his best friends arms.

He moved quietly to wake JJ, and when his eyes opened he realized his position.

Careful not to wake you, he whispered to John B, “Give me like 5″

When JJ finally entered the kitchen, John B sent him a questioning glance.

“What?” JJ asked, reaching for a box of cereal.

“What was that back there?”

“Nothing, we’re just friends.”

“Yeah, because I wake up naked with my friends all the time.” John B scoffed.

JJ just rolled his eyes, not wanting to get into this at the moment.

Pope noticed a pink toothbrush in the bathroom of JJ’s bathroom one morning. Confused, he brought it to the porch where the rest of you were seated.

“Uh, JJ?” He asked

JJ turned to look behind him, seeing pope with a pink toothbrush in his hand.

He gestured to the object and sent JJ a questioning glance.

“It’s y/n’s man, you got a point here?” JJ Replied, attempting to light the joint that was hanging from his lips.

“Yeah, why is it in your bathroom dude.” He remarked.

“Because she brushes her teeth.”

“Obviously JJ, But why your bathroom. Why not the spare?” He teased.

“Because I was brushing my teeth in his bathroom pope, It’s not that hard to understand.” You scoffed, taking your toothbrush from his hand and returning to JJ’s bathroom to put it back where it belonged.

JJ shot Pope a look that said “I told you so”

“I just thought it was odd since John B found you two naked in bed the other day.” Pope spoke as he sat down.

JJ dropped the lighter from his hand as the joint fell from his open mouth, making John B and pope raise their eyebrows knowingly.

“JB are you kidding me?” He whispered yelled, wiping the ash off of his shorts.

“What man, you said it was nothing, so I didn’t think You’d mind if I told him.” John B laughed.

You sarah and Kie were having a girls night one night. Doing face masks and hair as girls usually do.

“Hey y/n, I was wondering If you and JJ wanted to go on a double date with me and John B?” sarah asked.

“What? why?” You laughed, thinking it was odd.

“Oh, I thought you two were a thing, john B said he found you two in bed with each other the other morning.” She smirked.

Before you could respond Kie yelled, “HE FOUND YOU TWO WHAT NOW?”

JJ roughly pressed his hips to yours, you had your hands in his hair and the air in the van was getting thicker by the second.

“JJ please.” You moaned, lifting your hips to meet his.

“I don’t think we have time y/n, they just ran in for a minute.” He responded, breathing into your mouth as your tongues danced with each other.

You gripped his biceps and groaned when he ground right down onto your heat.

“Please J, we can be fast.” You whined.

contemplating, he rose to check if the others were walking out of the store. As his eyes reached the thresh hold of the window, he was met with the faces of John B, pope and kie.

They all had knowing smirks plastered on their faces, and he sighed, collapsing down on top of you.

“Not fast enough.” He groaned. You were confused until the back door of the van opened. You turned to meet the faces of your friends.

“He he , hey guys. Uh, how long have you been there?” You laughed nervously, fumbling to get out from underneath the larger boy.

“Long enough.” Kie laughed, throwing your tank top at you.

Suddenly very hot, you pulled the material over your head and attempted to fix your disheveled hair. You could feel the splotches forming over your body.

“so, just nothing right?” John B quipped.

You turned to see JJ looking at you.

“Uh, “You turned back to your friends ,” No?” You spoke

They laughed and Pope spoke, “I knew those fucking jokes meant something, how could we be so blind.” He said dramatically.

Embarrassed, you hung your head low as they all piled into the van.

JJ pulled you into a kiss before saying, “well y/n, our relationship is out now.”

You smiled as the others turned to look at the two of you.

“Aw, the only thing better than seeing you smile baby is seeing you orgasm.” JJ smirked, causing everyone to groan as John B turned to start the Van.

There it was

“JJ!”

#JJ Imagine #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #Outer Banks #outer banks smut #john b imagines #pope heyward #jj maybank smut #Smut #outer banks imagine

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saxxxology · 4 years

Text

control || oneshot

Sam’s tense, stressed, and you’re his only source of relief.

PAIRING: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Native American!Reader

WARNINGS: a/b/o dynamics, smut, semi-public sex

NOTE: This work was written for Bel as a commission. Do not save or repost my work without my consent. 18+ only - if you are not 18, please leave/unfollow me!

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You’ve been on the road for hours, stopping only for gas and snacks. The sights whizz by at sixty-five miles an hour, open landscape to towering trees. You’re tired and sore from almost two weeks of being on the road and tracking leads on Michael, but Sam won’t stop. Things are getting rough—Omegas are rare, and Sam’s an Alpha in a word where your kind are outnumbered three-to-one. He used to be nice, sweet, kind. Now, since his brother’s been gone almost three weeks… he’s irritable and aggressive, only speaking when you ask him a question or when he wants you to do something.

It’s hard, especially since Alphas and Omegas aren’t genetically compatible by just working together. Sam’s not a bad-looking guy, and you’re an Omega without a mate. It’s programmed into you to want him, bad. Trouble is, he doesn’t seem to feel the same way. If you can just lure him in… he might appreciate you a little more.

“I’m tired,” you murmur one night when you’re peeling through Oregon. “We should find a motel.”

“Get in the backseat.”

You glance over at the Alpha. He looks tired, dark shadows under his eyes, thickening beard, tense jaw. It’s been a rough few days, and he’s been showing the effects of suffering from a lack of sleep.

“Let’s find a motel,” you try to reason. “It’s really late, Sam, and you haven’t slept. I don't want you to pass out on the road.”

He clears his throat. “I won’t.”

“You don’t know that… please, there’s gotta be a place in the next town.” You pull out your phone and open the Maps app, intent on finding a reasonable place. “Let’s just stay for one night, we can shower, get some real food...”

His jaw ticks. “Fine.”

You sigh with relief and scroll through the list of motels that come up. The cheapest one has six rooms available, so you turn on directions and set your phone on your seat. The rest of the drive passes in silence, and you let Sam find a parking spot as you head into the lobby to book a room for the night, with cash. You meet him in the parking lot, where he’s got both of your bags, and then go unlock a room on the second level.

“You shower first,” Sam directs. “We’re outta here first thing in the morning.”

You nod in silent agreement and unzip your duffel bag, tugging out a bundle of clean pajamas. His eyes laser-focus on your back as you disappear into the bathroom, locking the door behind you. The shower pressure is a little heavy, but you let it beat the tension out of your shoulders and back.

It feels good to be alone—the last two weeks have been filled with Sam and hunting and Sam and driving and more Sam. Why he’d chosen you to come along, you have no idea. There’s a bunch of Alphas that had come with you from the other world that are just as good at tracking and hunting as you are, if not better.

Regardless, the Omega in you needs either space or for him to stop being so focused on his mission of finding his brother. He’s an Alpha, after all… if you can coax him into staying a night at a motel after four days of camping out in the Impala, who knows what you can get him to do.

You emerge in a billowing cloud of steam, pulling at a strap of your tank top. Sam’s reclining on one of the beds, watching the news. He stands up when you shove your dirty jeans and tee-shirt back into your bag and grabs his own—just a rolled-up pair of black sweats. Wordlessly, he stalks past you into the bathroom, and you hear the shower start up almost instantly.

Jerk.

***

You check out the next morning, after two hours at the laundromat, where you plot your course back to Lebanon. There’s nothing much to do but go back, since every lead is cold and you can’t do much else.

Another day passes on the road. You pay for a night at a campsite just outside Wyoming and camp down inside the car, Sam in the front seat, you in back. It’s cold, and you spend most of the night shivering and yawning over actually sleeping. Sam takes note of your discomfort the following morning and buys you the biggest coffee Starbucks can make.

You wake up late, having fallen asleep in the backseat. Sam’s still driving, eyes focused on the road, and he barely glances in the rearview mirror as you sit up.

“Where are we?” you ask.

“Nebraska.” Sam holds up a bottle of root beer as you clamber back into the front seat. “I got food while you were out, thought you might be thirsty.”

You crack the bottle open and take a long sip. “Thanks.”

“We’ll haul through the night, get back to Lebanon in the morning.” Sam shifts in his seat.

You don’t bother to reply, only sit back in your seat and rest your head against the window. The miles tick by, lit by the light of the moon. The whole car smells like Sam, and it’s starting to drive you nuts.

Sam breaks the silence after almost an hour, taking a deep breath before speaking. “You smell different.”

Cheeks flushing, you sniff under your shirt. “I’m wearing deodorant.”

“Not that.” He tightens his jaw. “You know what I mean.”

You chew on your lower lip. “Are you…?”

“Not going into rut,” he says. “But I can’t deny you smell good. Why d’you think I asked you to come along?”

You shift on the seat, feeling the strong pulse between your legs. “I thought you said I was smart.”

He chuckles. “You are. But there’s other Alphas back at the bunker and I’m not leaving you there alone for them to fight over.”

Your cheeks flare. “They wouldn’t fight.”

He grimaces. “Trust me, they would. I’ve seen more than enough fights over Omegas, they’re brutal and I don’t need to deal with knotheads who can’t control themselves. Besides, with the way you’re smelling right now, it’s not smart to take you back there at all.”

You shift a little closer, heart racing in your chest. “They wouldn’t fight if I had an Alpha.”

His nostrils flare. “Don’t start.”

“It wouldn’t be bad,” you explain. “You don’t have to claim me, I’m not asking for that.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Your hand creeps onto his thigh. “I don’t wanna get dropped off somewhere, Sam. If I got you on me, if I got you inside me, they’d know.”

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, and what happens when you get pregnant? The last thing I wanna deal with right now is a pup.”

“I’m not in heat.”

“Yet.”

“Still.” Your fingers drift up, rubbing over the front of his jeans. “You’re so on edge, you need to take a break.”

“Can’t.”

“Not even five minutes?”

He tongues the inside of his cheek. “What do you have that’s only gonna take five minutes.”

You give him a little squeeze, watch his upper lip flicker up into a snarl. “Is it so bad that I just want a good, hard fuck? Funny that a guy like you isn’t jumping at the chance to get his knot nice and wet.”

Sam exhales sharply as his cock gives a soft twitch, giving way to the tease of your hand. “Y/N…”

You rub him again, feeling him swell and stiffen in his jeans. “Come on, Sam, please…”

He groans when you lift your hips, shoving your pants down and to the floor. “Y/N—”

“Give me your hand.” You tug one of his hands off the wheel and guide it between your legs, dipping into the waistband of your panties, and two of his fingers slide against wet, hot flesh. “This is what you do to me,” you whisper, rubbing yourself against his hand. “I need it so bad, Sam, please… I’d feel so good on your—”

You squeal as he suddenly turns off the road, down into a little rest patch. The tires grind against the gravel, and he wrenches the door open, pulling his hand from between your legs and wrapping his fingers in the front of your shirt. He drags you out of the car and around to the back, not caring as you let out a whimper of pain as you stumble on the ground.

“Sam, what—?”

He shoves you down over the trunk, letting you catch yourself on your hands. “If you’re going to act like a little Omega slut, then I’m gonna fuck you like one.”

He lifts you onto the trunk and steps between your thighs, wrenching his belt open and pulling his cock into his hand before tugging your panties aside. You feel him rut through your folds, grunting as he slicks himself, and thrusts into his hand as he lines himself up, trying to find your entrance in the darkness. His other hand lands between your tits as he thrusts in with a primal shout, the sudden sensation of hot slick on his cock almost too much. He shudders through another shove, and your breath chokes off when he presses in deep enough for you to feel the firmer flesh near the base of him inside.

“That’s it,” he snarls, “take it good… you wanted this so bad, didn’t you?”

You nod, head tipping back as he grabs your waist to hold you still as he picks up the pace. Straining forward, he presses each deep, heavy thrust against your cervix, fighting the urge to see if you’re receptive enough to take him in there, where he’s only been a couple times before, and drain him dry.

“Oh no you don’t.” He shoves your shirt up and palms a tit in one huge palm when you try to wiggle back and change the angle of your hips. “I like it this way, you spread out like a greedy little slut.”

He bends to kiss you, and the feeling of his lips pressed wet and sloppy against yours makes you squirm, desperate for more. Your hands slip around to grab handfuls of his ass, sliding the waistband of his boxers down until you can feel warm, firm muscle. He grunts, rutting closer, and you spread just a little wider, letting the skin above his cock rub against your clit.

“You’re gonna cum like this,” Sam growls, “with my cock inside you… just how you want it. You want it, don’t you? So fucking wet and tight for me. Gonna feel real good getting my knot up in you.”

You cry out, stifling the sound with a palm as he spreads his stance and fucks you closer and closer to orgasm. He grunts when you buck underneath him, trying to get him to ease off, but he holds you in place.

“Scream,” he pants, “nobody can fuckin’ hear you out here, I wanna hear you scream.”

Your head falls back onto the car as your body convulses. A whine turns into a long, hitching series of breaths, and you cum so hard your vision blurs. Sam grunts, going still inside you and working his fingers on your clit until you’re whimpering and begging for him to back off.

He wastes no time in pulling out, tugging your hips off the car, and turning you around to bend you over. You wince as he kicks your ankles apart, and he slides back inside without hesitation, hands holding your hips high enough for him to be comfortable.

“That’s it, baby,” he urges, “I’m almost there, gonna cum nice and deep… take it real good for me…”

You shudder through another wave of pleasure as Sam’s thrusts grow stronger and more determined. His fingers dig into your flesh, surely leaving bruises, and when you feel him curl over you, his lips meeting the back of your neck, you arch for him, slick streaming down the insides of your thighs as he fucks right against your sweet spot.

“Sam—” you choke on a sob as his grunts start to intensify, “fuck you’re… I need you to—”

“I’m gettin’ there,” he pants, “fuck, I’m gonna cum…”

You let out another squeal as he shoves forward, his knot popping inside your cunt as his mouth presses against the back of your neck. He cums with a bestial snarl in your ear, hips pumping wildly against your ass, and you squirm as the heat of his seed fills you.

Panting hard, he slumps against you, pressing as close as he can. His teeth scrape over your skin, and you shiver, arching away. He chuckles darkly.

“You really think I’d claim you right here?” he nips at the back of your neck again, earning a breathy whine. “Mmm, you’re not ready for that. When your hot little ass goes into heat, though…”

You squirm when he gives you a shallow thrust, knot pulsing inside you. “You’ll claim me?”

“I’m not gonna let anyone else get a taste of this,” he murmurs. “It’s all mine now.”

He steps back, easing his softened knot out of your body, and strides around to the backseat to grab a wad of napkins. You wipe yourself down, discarding the sticky tissues in a plastic bag destined for the trash, and slip into the front seat. You’re a mess—panties drenched in slick and cum, the front of your shirt rumpled from where Sam had grabbed you. He eyes the way you squirm on the seat and reaches back to grab a blanket.

“Sit on this,” he directs. “Don’t need you ruining the seat.”

You fight the urge to retort that it’s really his fault that the seat would be ruined, but you tuck the cotton fabric underneath you without a word. It’s pointless to put your pants back on… if Sam wants you again, they’ll only get in his way.

As the Impala pulls back onto the road and roars away, you tuck yourself against his side, head on his shoulder so you can press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. He doesn’t object when you slide down to rest your cheek against his thigh, and he settles back in his seat, eyes fixed on the long, dark road ahead.

He’ll figure out what to do with you when you get back.

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bobbyshawsupremacy · 3 years

Text

‘tis the season

for @thesevenumbrellas birthday!!! you said willex fluff, and willex fluff it is

There was a soft knocking noise, and Alex rolled over, squinting. His room laid cold and dark and empty. Probably just the-

Oh.

Oh, Jesus.

He was out of bed in a moment, scrambling across the room, and yanked his window open, pushing it up. “What the fuck?” he hissed. “What are you doing, oh my God-”

Willie grinned at him, that familiar sharp smile that always tugged Alex into whatever the hell he wanted. “Hey, Al,” he greeted easily, as if it weren’t midnight and he weren’t dangling outside Alex’s window in the snow without a fucking coat on. “How’s it hanging?”

“I hate you,” Alex said flatly. “I hate you. You’re absolutely terrible-” He helped heave Willie in, brushing at his shoulders with a frown. “You’re going to catch your death,” he hissed. He tugged at Willie’s shirt to straighten it out. “You’re an absolute disaster, do you ever use your brain-”

“Alex.” Willie grabbed his face. “Alex. I’m totally okay.” Alex froze, staring at him. The room was still cold and dark and empty, still just another room with boring wooden paneling in another suburban house with a copied floor plan, but something about Willie’s eyes flooded it with light, and suddenly it was warm and bright and full of the both of them, full of the entire world in the few scant inches between them.

Alex’s hands twitched in Willie’s shirt, and he swallowed hard. “Still worried,” he replied, although his voice had lost a bit of its emphasis. Willie hummed, his thumbs rubbing over Alex’s cheeks. His face was soft. Open. Alex could fall into it, if only he leant forward-

Nope. No. No. Definitely not. He tugged himself back and pulled his scowl back on. “You’re an absolute idiot.”

“Mhm.” Willie still looked completely at ease as he reeled an arm around Alex’s waist and reeled him in so that their chests were pressed together. “Don’t let go, I’m cold,” he added, pouting. Alex meant to protest, but Willie was warm and solid and touching him tasted so sweet, so his words turned into a sigh and he wrapped his arms around his friend, holding him tight. Willie’s head laid onto his shoulder, breath ghosting over Alex’s neck. “You feel so nice,” he murmured.

Alex forced out a laugh, even if it was a bit choked. “You’re totally okay, huh?”

“Maybe I just wanted a hug.”

“Well…” he sighed again and tightened his grip. “That’s okay, I guess.”

Willie hummed. His head tilted a bit more, his cold nose pressing into the crook of Alex’s neck. His lips were on Alex’s collarbone as he murmured, “You give the best hugs,” and Alex couldn’t breathe.

They stayed like that for a while- maybe a minute, maybe an eternity, hovering together in the bright dark frigid warmth of Alex’s room, locked together with the wind still open, Willie’s lips sending shocks through Alex’s skin and bones. He let his eyes drift closed, enjoying the feeling of someone in his arms, enjoying the feeling of Willie sagging almost bonelessly into him, giving all his tension away in favour of Alex’s arms. This was a dangerous game, but he’d never felt this safe. He’d held home this close to his heart before.

Eventually, Willie pulled back to look up at him with those sparkling eyes that doomed him in the first place. “I didn’t just come for hugs,” he admitted. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

“Now?”

“Yeah!” Willie tugged his hand. “Let’s go!”

“But-” Alex’s head spun slightly. “It’s midnight, and my pajamas, and the snow-”

Willie tightened his grip and fixed Alex with a pout. “But Al,” he whined. “I came all the way here, just to get you, and I want you to come so bad.” His pout deepened. “Please?” Alex lasted for all of two seconds before he caved. He did shove his Vans on first, though. Together, they clambered out the window, making it slowly down to the snowy ground. Alex shivered.

Willie noticed and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he said cheerfully. “I brought my car. It’s around the corner. Didn’t wanna wake your parents.”

Alex laughed, though the sound was shaking with cold, and leaned heavily into Willie’s side. “My genius,” he joked. Instant regret flooded him, because he’s not yours, dumbass, but Willie just laughed and grinned at him. The stars and the sun were still in his eyes.

The car was warmer, but not by much, and Alex spent several minutes grumbling and trying to wrap himself up into as small a ball as possible before he noticed the route they were taking. “Wait…” he peered out the window suspiciously, and then back at Willie. “Are you…” Willie did not answer, just kept smiling until they pulled to a stop. “You brought me… here?” Alex squinted at him. “So when you said you had something to show me… you meant your house? Dude, I’ve seen your house.”

Willie laughed, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “Hey, I’m more creative than that,” he defended. “I know, uh-” he shrugged. “I know it’s been kinda hard for you, moving here, making new friends and stuff, and I know you miss California, but… you’ll always have me, you know that, right?”

Alex blinked. “I- yeah. I know.” He shifted to face Willie a little more, frowning slightly. “What’s all this about?” he asked, still slightly wary but mostly warm, full of a content that swelled through his bones.

Willie smiled. It was a touch nervous, Alex noticed, which was odd. Willie was rarely nervous. “Well, just-” he fidgeted for just a moment before jerking his head towards the house. “Come on, let’s go.” Alex followed him up to the front door, mind churning. What the hell kind of twist was Willie pulling this time?

The click of the door shutting echoed loudly. “Are your parents asleep?” he asked, keeping his voice soft in case they were.

Willie fidgeted slightly. “Um… no, not exactly,” he admitted. “Just…” he took a deep breath. “Come with me?” He held out his hand hopefully, and- well, it was Willie. What could Alex do but take it? He led him into the living room and pushed him into the armchair- literally pushed, Alex went tumbling into it and had to right himself with a grumble- before assuming a place in front of him with his arms clutched around himself, rubbing at his own arm with his thumb.

“Hey,” Alex said. He reached up to lay a hand over Willie’s. “Don’t be scared. Whatever this is, it’s okay.”

Willie smiled faintly and twined their fingers together. “That’s the thing,” he said softly. “It’s… you know, it’s always okay with you.” Alex blinked. He went to open his mouth, but Willie cut him off. “Don’t say anything. Please. Not until I finish.” He took a deep breath and squeezed Alex’s hand once before dropping it. “I, William Jarah River Covington,” he began, which was an odd enough beginning to have Alex reeling already, “Hereby swear that I am going to give you, Alexander Inez Mercer, the best fuckin’ Christmas of your entire life. But-” he paused. Took another deep breath. “I also swear,” he started again, his voice shaking a little, “That every year, till you don’t want me to anymore, I’m gonna keep trying to make it the best. And I’m gonna keep trying to make it better. Every single time. I’m gonna figure out your favourite foods and how to make them, and I’m gonna figure out your favourite Christmas songs and find the prettiest versions of them to play, and I’m gonna buy you the best gift I can, and-” his fingers locked together tightly, his eyes bright and insistent on Alex’s even as his vice wavered. “And I’m gonna make it all happen,” he promised, “Because I care about you so, so fucking much, and I’m gonna do it all standing right by your side, holding your hand, and making sure you know that you make everything in my life better. Making sure that you know you’re the best gift I could possibly get.”

Alex’s breath had caught in his chest, thick and stuck and keeping him in place, mouth half open, hands trembling slightly on the arms of the armchair. He let out a little squeaking noise, trying to shift forward, trying to reach out to Willie, but his body refused, still stuck processing.

Willie swallowed hard. “I just want you to know that you can always come to me if you want to come home for Christmas,” he finished quietly, and that was what it took to launch Alex up out of the chair, flinging himself into Willie’s arms.

“I don’t know what to say,” he half-gasped into his neck. “I- God, Willie, I don’t even-”

“Please, just-” Willie pushed him back by the shoulders. “I, uh. You do know how gay I sounded, right?” His voice was spiked with worry. “And you gotta know, like, you gotta know that was intentional.”

Alex reached up to cup Willie’s face. “Willie,” he breathed. “I know. I know. I-” he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because Willie was surging forward, and there they were, kissing at midnight, his hands on Willie’s face and Willie’s chest pressed up against his, and it was clumsy but it was sweet and perfect and full of an adoration Alex had never tasted before. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Willie kissed him again. “Don’t thank me,” he whispered. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

And right now, being held like a treasure, staring into the sun and stars and moon that hovered in Willie’s eyes, standing a room that wasn’t cold or dark or empty, where he was coveted and covered and not alone- yeah. Right now, Alex can believe that pretty damn well.

#jon doesn't know how to write #julie and the phantoms #otp: i'd do anything for you #ch: skatin' the streets #ch: i've always been a little anxious #sorry it's a lil short it's just a lil bit of fluff for you <33 #ficlet

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

5, sternclay, nsfw? 👀

Here you go

5: Incubus

“Buddy, I promise, you can come in and cuddle in like, ten minutes.”

The whining at the bedroom door stops, replaced by a big, wet nose, just visible through the crack at the bottom of the door as it snuffles back and forth. It’s very cute, but Barclay is not about to let his dog deprive him of a much needed jerk-off session.

He’s ready for bed, so it’s just a matter of pulling down his pajama pants and getting to it. Closing his eyes, he pictures that cute customer who gets black coffee and a croissant every morning at the Lodge. It takes a few tries to find a fantasy he likes, the one about the back counter and the new uses for a spatula.

Outside the door, Sass starts whining again, scratching frantically at the wood. There goes his deposit.

God, he can practically feel the guy up against him.

The bed dips on the outside of each thigh. Opening his eyes reveals a man wearing nothing but deep blue boxer briefs and a smile.

“Holyshitwhatthefuck?” He clambers back, banging his head on the wall in his hurry to sit up, “what the fuck man, how’d you get in here?”

“A portal between dimensions. That’s the, um, simplified version. But don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you. The opposite really. I’m an incubus.”

“Why the fuck is a fucking sex demon in my bedroom?” Barclay yanks his pants up. The incubus looks sad at this development.

“I feed on sexual energy, and to do that I follow trails of that same energy to their source. You have a lot of it.”

“Yeah, year-long dry spell’ll do that.”

“Consider it broken.” The demon leans forward only for Barclay to hold up a hand.

“Nope. This is not how I want to break it. Sorry.”

“Is it my appearance? I can look like anyone--or anything--you want.” His features morph, eyes going from brown to blue to green, hair from honey-blond to fire red, “if you’re shy, my powers let me see into your deepest fantasies and make them come true.”

“No that’s not the problem, I wanna fuck someone I have some kinda connection to, not some guy who dropped into my bedroom. And would you please knock it off with that face-changing? I’m not gonna fuck you, so you can just look like yourself.”

The incubus starts, surprised by his sharp refusal, features landing on short, black hair, blue eyes, and a face that’d make a movie-star insecure.

“I said you don’t have to try and be hot.”

“...This is how I look.”

“Oh. Uh. Cool.”

The demon smiles, “Having second thoughts?”

He takes a deep breath and lies through his teeth, “Nope.”

With that, he stands, grabbing the nearest shirt and pulling it on. Sass wiggles when he opens the door, takes one look behind him, and runs the other way.

“I wish I knew why earth canines react that way to me. I have a hellhound named Mother Leeds who adores me.”

“Jersey Devil reference?” He pads into the kitchen, starts the kettle and rummages in the cabinet for the most soothing tea blend he owns.

“Yes!” The demon grins from his new position by the fridge, “when I found her she was pregnant with a litter. Most people don’t get it. Demons don’t either.”

“Friend of mine likes Mothman and all that kinda stuff. Uh” He takes a cup down, reaches for a second one automatically and then stops, “are you gonna hang around? Because my answer isn’t changing and if you keep pestering me I’ll just leave the apartment.”

“No, I’ll drop it. You’re not interested and sexual energy only works if it’s from something consensual. But, um” he toys with a magnet, “could I ask a few questions before I go?”

“About?”

“Humans. How things work up here, what your daily lives are like, that sort of thing.”

“Uh, sure.” He gets down the second mug, “is this so you can better seduce them or something?” Turning, he finds the incubus sitting at the table, producing a small notebook and pen from the air.

“No, this is my own research. I’m, um, more curious about humans than the average demon. I basically ended up an incubus because at my last job I kept trying to talk with humans or spend more time around them than was wise and, well, my supervisor got sick of it. So they offered me a reassignment to a role where the whole point was to be around people.”

“You fuck people just so you can, like, interview them afterwards?” He sets the two mugs on the table, notices that the notebook is crammed with questions in neat, elegant handwriting.

“Technically, I also need the energy from it. But, um, yes” he blushes, “I know it’s a sort of silly hobby.”

“I don’t think it’s silly to wanna know about other worlds and people. But this doesn’t seem like the most, uh, effective way to do it.”

A sigh as the demon picks up his mug, “You’ve got that right. Sometimes I can get a few questions in during ‘pillow talk’ but mostly it’s in and out. Literally.” He snickers at his own bad joke, which further kindles the inexplicable, protective impulse Barclay feels towards him, “Don’t get me wrong, I like my work, and being a good incubus takes skill and dedication. It just...isn’t quite what I thought it’d be.” He sips the tea, brings the mug away from his mouth to study the liquid, “what kind is this?”

“Mostly chamomile.”

“Chamomile…” he flips through the book, which contains more pages than should be physically and spatially possible, “that’s a plant, one that humans thing is calming, right?”

Barclay can’t help but smile, “Right. You want me to sit here and quiz you?”

“No, there’s too much to discover. What would you say is your area of expertise?”

“I’m a cook, so food.”

“Food, food, ah here it is. Let’s see, why do humans persist in eating things that could kill them?”

“You mean things like rhubarb or are we in, like, Fugu territory here?”

The demon smiles, “I have no idea, please say more.”

They sit at the table until two in the morning, at which point Joseph ,the incubus, excuses himself to go collect energy from a willing participant. Before he disappears, he takes a chance and tells Joseph that he can come back if he has more questions. The demon thanks him and, out of what Barclay suspects is a habit more than anything else, blows him a kiss goodbye.

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“Y’know, I kinda figured you’d look more demonic. Do incubi just get human forms?” Barclay shakes red pepper flakes onto his pizza while Joseph finishes a filled breadstick.

“This isn’t my ‘true’ form. When you asked me just to look like myself when we met, I figured you meant the least alarming version.”

“As long as it’s not, like, a beast with a thousand eyes, we’re good.”

Joseph wipes his mouth and by the time the napkin reaches the other corner of his lips, Barclay is gasping.

His nails turn sharp and silver, his eyes pure black, but it’s his skin that’s most noticeable; it’s swirls and swoops of blue and silver, dancing down his arms and blooming out from the neck of his “Museum of Anthropology” souvenir shirt. He stands, giving Barclay a fuller view. Short horns sprout from his head, doubtless the perfect size and texture to hold him in place with your dick down his throat. His tail is that same mix of royal blue and silver, the right length to wrap around your hand and tug while you fuck him. Every inch of him is made to be pinched and pulled, groped and fondled, and Barclay will not be standing up from the table any time soon.

“It’s the color that gets people.” Joseph smiles with pointed teeth as he sits back down.

“It’s incredible, Joseph.”

The demon smiles, mischievous, “I’m glad you like it. Now, where were we?” He uncovers his notebook from a stack of parmesan packets and clicks his pen, appearance fading back to the human one Barclay is used to. He mourns his loss for a moment, before Joseph draws him into an animated conversation about movie theaters.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on Sass, it’s okay. Look, I even have your favorite.” Joseph holds out the treat, still fresh from the oven, while Barclay puts the rest of the batch out of range. The dog no longer runs from the demon, but will not come within arms reach of him.

Sass whines, looking from Joseph to Barclay and back.

“Here” Barclay settles on the couch next to him, resting his arm along the back of it, “see, buddy, he’s our friend.”

Sass creeps forward, still on his belly, plucks the treat from Joseph’s palm, and retreats to his bed.

“Progress.” Joseph leans back, pleased. Their positions mean he comes to rest with Barclays arm around him. Barclay doesn’t move it, and the demon stays put until the end of the episode of Hells’ Kitchen

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The newest Agent X is so engrossing that Barclay doesn’t register Joseph until his friend slumps onto the bed.

“Hey, you’re early.” He sets the book down on the nightstand, scooching to where the demon sits rubbing his forehead.

“I’m, um, I’m having a bit of a problem.” When he looks up, silver and blue peeks through the skin on his face, “I misjudged how much energy I was going to get from my last two visits. I’m so weak I don’t think I can make it back home. I, um, I came here because if I’m going to be stuck and without powers I” his horns appear and he scratches them awkwardly, “I want it to be around someone I trust.”

“What’ll happen if you can’t get more energy?”

“I’ll get sick, and if the worst happens I’ll have to signal for someone to come get me. Which’ll get me demoted for sure.” He tucks his legs up onto the bed. He’s wearing the UFO socks Barclay gave him as a surprise last week, and the cook sets a hand on a flying-saucer covered ankle.

“You can stay as long as you need, okay? And if there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know.”

“Unless you feel like taking me door to door to ask your neighbors if they want to fuck, a safe place to rest is what I need most.”

“What if, uh, you recharged here?” He draws a finger up and down the side of Josephs’ calf.

The incubus raises his eyebrows, “Barclay, are you forgetting how we met?”

“I didn’t want to fuck you then, but now...now you’re you, this handsome, clever, dorky guy who also happens to be a sex demon who hangs around my house most nights. I, I didn’t ask about sooner because I was afraid you’d think it was fuck me or lose our friendship, but if I can help you in a kinda self-serving way, I’m down.”

Joseph shakes his head, “That’s sweet, but you’re not the only one with concerns. How can I be sure you actually want me, and you’re not just offering because you want to help?”

Barclay snaps his fingers, “You can read my deepest desires, right? How about you take a peek and tell me what you see?”

Joseph closes his eyes, tail twitching as he concentrates, and Barclay gets the distinct pleasure of watching his face as he learns the truth.

“Oh. OH. Um, you’re not kidding about how badly you want me. And some of this makes the reaction you had the one time I showed up in a suit make way more sense. But we can explore that later.” His eyes, now-pitch black, snap open, “right now, big guy, I’ll do whatever you want, however you want it.”

“In that case” Barclay catches Joseph just as he tries for a kiss, “how about you tell me what you want?”

“Barclay, I’m an incubus, I want whatever the person I’m feeding on wants.”

“Nuhuh, I don’t buy that, babe. You’re telling me there’s nothing that’s your favorite, or that you’re curious about?” He teases their lips together.

“N-no?”

“You’re not getting any kisses until you tell me the truth.”

Joseph narrows his eyes with a “hmmph.” Then, as if it’s his greatest secret, he whispers, “I want to know what it’s like to get a massage as foreplay. No one’s ever wanted it or offered, and it sounds so nice.”

Barclay rewards him with a kiss. The demon melts against him, slides a forked tongue into his mouth to tease it. Clawed fingers tug at his shirt until Joseph remembers he can do magic and renders them both naked with a wave of the hand.

When they part, Joseph licks his lips, “Holy hell, Barclay, that kiss was enough to make me feel better than I did this morning. Tastes nice too, like coffee with lots of cream.”

“So, coffee the way you like it.” Barclay nudges him backwards, rolls him over as the incubus keeps talking.

“Usually it’s a neutral sweetness. I wonder, hmm, maybe it has something to do with the fact you’re attracted to me, as in the actual meOHohhhhhhh” he flattens into the bed like a cat on a sunny floor as Barclay digs his thumbs under his shoulder blades.

“You can theorize later babe, I promise. Right now, all you gotta do is let me rub you down. Uh, can you magic up some oil or something? It’ll feel better if--great, thanks.” Barclay sets the lit massage candle safely on the nightstand, waiting for it to melt.

“Should I put my human form back on now that I can hold it?”

“Nope” he traces his hands up parallel patches of silver, pinches one horn playfully, “I love that version of you, but this one is so, so, fucking hot. Now” be kisses the base of his neck, “relax.”

Drizzling liquid wax down his spine makes the incubus moan, but the sound is nothing compared to what happens when he starts kneading him like dough. It’s a yowl, rough and inelegant in a way Joseph never is, and Barclay dedicates the next fifteen minutes to finding new ways to trigger it. He’s so beautiful, it’s like touching a painting, a galaxy, a miracle.

By the time he reaches his lower back the incubus is grinding on the bed and Barclay is half-hard from touching him. He grips Joseph’s ass, parting it enough to grind between the cheeks.

“Don’t tease” his tail delivers a scolding thwack to Barclays cheek. The cook growls, turning his head to capture the offending appendage between his teeth.

“OHholyffffffuckinghell.” Joseph rips the blanket as he flails, “no one’s ever thought to do that before and now I really wish they had.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. He ignores his growing hard-on in favor of nipping and kissing his way down Joseph’s tail. It’s velvety, feels like nothing he’s ever experienced as it twitches and trembles under his tongue. The base gets an extra-hard lovebite and Joseph moans, rolling over so fast he nearly catches Barclay in the face with his cock. And what a cock, on the narrow side but covered in swirling ridges.

“Holy shit, you just get hotter and hotter.”

“Th-thank you, big guy, now for gods sake pleeEEEase fuck me.” He whimpers adorably when Barclay licks up his shaft.

“Okay babe, we can fuck. But I think…” he grabs the incubus, flipping them so Joseph straddles him, “I want you to fuck me.”

Joseph registers his words and his eyes glow deep blue.

“Uh, is that a good thing?”

“Yes, big guy, it’s the closest I get to having my pupils dilate when aroused. And since you look so good underneath me, I’ll expedite things” he snaps his fingers and Barclay inhales in surprise; his ass is dripping lube and stretched like someone just pulled three fingers away from it.

“Fuck yeah” he spreads his legs, “c’mon blue eyes, don’t make me wait anymoreOHFUCK, fuck, yeah, like that.” He hooks his legs around Joseph as the incubus thrusts all the way in. Joseph kisses in precise shapes up and down his face, even as his hips keep a rapid, erratic rhythm.

“Shit, shit, Barclay you taste so good, feel so good, please, please don’t stop touching me.”

“Not sure I could ever keep my hands to myself again, babe, god you’re so fucking handsomeAH, hah, someone got a praise kink?” He gasps out laughter as Joseph fucks him harder with each kind word. The ridges on his cock are solid enough that Barclay feels them with each drag, and it sets his toes curling.

“Maybe a little one” the incubus smiles against his neck, “though kink is a distinctly human concept and a complex one-SHITfuck, fuck please do that again.” He kisses Barclay hard as the human obligingly pulls his tail with one hand and smacks his ass with the other. Teeth catch Barclay’s lower lip on the next tug, a moan spilling from Josephs’ mouth down his chin.

“That’s it baby, fuck me while I rough you up, fuck, Joseph, your dick is fucking perfect, never gonna want another one, c’mon please, I’m close.”

Joseph sits up, grinning joyfully, and grips Barclays cock. It’s a masterful handjob, because how could a sex demon give anything else, but what strikes Barclay most is how happy and relaxed Joseph is. The incubus admitted once that even when he was having sex, he constantly worried about fulfilling the fantasy to earn enough energy to feed. Yet here he’s laughing and smiling, eyes aglow as he works Barclay up to the best orgasm of his life.

It means something; Barclay only hopes Joseph will stay in his life long enough for him to figure out what.

He’s too busy with the sparks behind his eyelids and the pleasure coursing down from his head to his toes to note that Joseph managed to make them cum at the same time. The incubus pushes a hand through his fair, swooping it back and off his face, as he notes this accomplishment.

“I want to run a marathon. Or maybe go hiking, or swim the lake. I have so much energy. Barclay, it’s amazing. You, it’s never been like that before. It’s felt good, but that was fucking transcendent.

“No fucking kidding.” Barclay shifts onto his side, nestling up against him so his head is under Joseph’s chin. He yawns, kisses a blue shoulder, “but you might have to burn off some energy without me. You wore me out, blue eyes.”

Joseph adjusts his arms so he’s holding him, “If I stay the night, can I walk Sass with you in the morning?”

Barclay nods, already falling asleep, safe in the knowledge that Joseph is okay and, better yet, so fond of him that his eyes are still glowing, “You got a deal, babe.”

#sternclay #agent stern/barclay #reader requests #monster march #TAZ amnesty

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even-after-a-millennia · 3 years

Text

Winter Wonders

Hey all! This is my fic for the Andromaquynh Secret Santa exchange! This fic is a gift for @kayivy so I hope that you like it! Happy Holidays!

Read it below or on my ao3 account here.

When Andy and Quynh awoke, the world outside the safe house was blanketed in white. Andy stretched, then pulled Quynh closer to ward off the chill in the air. Quynh hummed, nestling her face deeper into the crook of Andy’s neck.

Andy took a moment to revel in the feel of her love tucked next to her. It had only been a few months since they had been reunited. A fraction of time, compared to their time apart. It still felt so new. Every moment of eye contact, every touch, every kiss, felt like a gift.

They’d had to work through the pain they had both gone through and come to terms with Andy’s mortality. There were still times that Andy jerked awake, reaching for Quynh and half expecting for the bed beside her to be empty. But she was always there, reaching back.

“Hey,” Andy said quietly. “It snowed.”

“Hm?” Quynh murmured, still mostly asleep.

Andy kissed her temple, hoping to entice her to wake. “It snowed last night. The whole world is white out there.”

Quynh’s eyes blinked sleepily open, her brow furrowed at the light coming in from the window. “I’m sure it’s pretty,” she muttered, putting her face back in the safety of Andy’s neck. “But it is far too bright.”

Andy laughed softly. “Take your time.”

“Food would help me wake.”

“Is that a not-so-subtle hint that you would like breakfast in bed?” Andy asked.

Quynh hummed again, seeming to fall back asleep.

Andy carefully maneuvered out of Quynh’s embrace, so as to not disturb her. She threw a sweater over her pajamas and shuffled out to the main room, where Nicky was puttering around the kitchen as Joe sipped a cup of coffee at the table, barely looking awake himself.

“Nile still in bed?” Andy asked.

Joe nodded.

“Why aren’t you still sleeping?” Andy demanded. “You are basically asleep sitting here!”

Joe shrugged and looked over to where Nicky was making him toast. Nicky smiled softly at him, then turned back to the counter.

“Sap,” Andy told him as she got two cups of coffee ready.

Nicky raised an eyebrow at her, looking between her and the two cups without comment.

“Shut up,” she said with a laugh, pushing his shoulder.

Nicky’s eyes went behind Andy, her only warning before Quynh, wrapped in the quilt from their bed, wrapped her arms around Andy’s waist from behind.

“Andromache, it’s too cold in the bed without you…” she whined, pressing her cold nose into the spot right between Andy’s shoulder blades. “Come back.”

Loosening Quynh’s hold on her with one hand, Andy spun around in her arms to face her, cup of coffee in her other hand. “Here, this will warm you.”

Quynh took the coffee and took a sip. “I still like you better.”

Andy laughed. “Good to know I make a better personal heater than coffee.”

Quynh hummed, shuffling towards the table and sitting next to Joe, still cocooned in the blanket. Joe stole a corner of it to wrap around his feet and they sat there together, sipping their coffee with their eyes mostly closed.

Nicky smiled at the scene and revealed the truly prolific amount of toast he had made. Andy began to dig in the cupboards and fridge for toppings, grabbing everyone’s favorite. Strawberry jam for Nicky, apricot jam for Joe, peanut butter with honey for Nile, butter for herself, and Nutella for Quynh. She liked the sweetness and the novelty of it.

They ate in silence, though Andy did notice that Joe and Quynh’s eyes were slowly widening more as time past.

Nile came to the table as the others were finishing and scarfed down her food.

“Any plans for today?” she asked.

Nicky shrugged as Joe shook his head. “Stay somewhere warm,” he added, pulling more of Quynh’s quilt toward himself.

Nile snorted.

“I would like to go out in the snow,” Quynh said resolutely. She looked over at Andy. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

Which is how they found themselves out in the snow covered world outside not much later. Joe had nagged them until they had bundled up. Nile cackled when she saw them and said, still giggling, “I can’t put my arms down!” She waved them away as they looked at her curiously.

Ah, it must be a reference to something.

The moment they stepped outside their warm safe house, Andy was glad of Joe’s aversion to the cold. The only exposed part of her were her eyes and they watered as the cold wind hit them. She glanced at Quynh, wanting to see how she was doing, dealing with the cold. It had been cold at the bottom of the ocean. She still shuddered when the shower’s temperature was too chilly and baths were out of the question.

Quynh’s eyes were crinkled in a way that Andy knew, through thousands of years of memorizing Quynh’s facial expressions, meant that she was grinning hugely underneath her scarf.

“It’s so beautiful!” Quynh exclaimed before charging forward into the snow.

It was deep, almost up to her knees, and every step flung the snow to the side and behind her. But still, she ran on, laughter echoing behind her as she went.

Andy grinned then chased after her.

Their safehouse was in the middle of the woods, so Andy had to dodge trees and be careful of roots hidden under the snow as she ran, but she loved it. She loved the sensation of the cold wind against her cheeks, the cloud that every breath made in the cold air, the crunch of the snow under her feet.

She caught up to Quynh and grabbed her around the waist, twirling her around as she giggled and wiggled in her grasp. Andy put her down only to push her against a tree and dragged down both of their scarves so their mouths could crash together. At first, it was desperate, very fitting after the chase that had preceded it. But in time it slowed. Deepened.

Andy pulled away to breathe, then whispered against Quynh’s jaw, “Anh yêu em nhiều lắm.”

I love you so much.

Quynh brought her in for another, quicker kiss. “I love you, my Andromache.”

Andy saw the shift in Quynh’s eyes from loving to mischievous and had a bare moment to jump away before Quynh was flinging snow where she had just been standing.

“You little shit!” Andy said, laughing.

She had been laughing so much more since Quynh had come back into her life.

Quynh grinned at her and grabbed more snow, creating an arsenal of snowballs in a pile as Andy ducked behind a tree to do the same.

“Ready?” she heard Quynh called. “It will be no fun unless it is a fair match.”

“One more minute!”

“Hurry, then!”

Andy shook her head, grinning, as she made snowball after snowball.

“Ready!”

“First to surrender loses! Three, two, one! GO!” Quynh shouted, immediately firing off a volley of snowballs at Andy.

Andy ducked and blocked most of them, but one did hit her in the shoulder. She threw some back and the fight was on.

The back and forth attacks lasted a good ten minutes more until Quynh rushed towards Andy and tackled her into the snow. They wrestled for a bit, trying to get the upper hand, until Quynh finally got Andy’s hands under her knees as she knelt on top of her. Andy tried to buck her off a few times, but it was no use.

She relaxed into the snow, trying to ignore the huge amount that was now inside her winter clothes and slowly melting against her skin.

“I yield,” she said, gazing up at Quynh.

Quynh grinned, then leaned down to kiss the tip of Andy’s nose.

“I like you like this,” she said, smiling down at her.

“Usually, I would agree, especially if you were seated a bit higher. But I have snow melting down my neck and that is very uncomfortable.”

“Wimp,” Quynh teased, though she did get off Andy and helped pull her to her feet. “Come on, let’s go get warm.”

They held hands as they went back to the cabin, all the way to the bathroom, where they began to strip off their frigid clothing.

“You got me good with one of those snowballs,” Andy said, looking in the mirror to see where she had been hit. She stared at it, trying to reach it.

“...Quynh?”

“What is it, Andromache?”

“It’s healing.”

“What?!” Quynh demanded, whirling around to stare at Andy’s back.

As they watched, the bruise on Andy’s back became green, then yellow, then faded to nothing but smooth, unbruised skin. They turned to stare at each other.

“Do you think-?”

“Maybe?”

“Here,” Quynh pulled out Nicky’s shaving kit. “Just a small cut, my love. I have to be sure.”

“Of course.”

Quynh drew the blade over the tip of Andy’s finger. They watched as the blood welled. Glancing at each other, Quynh reached out to wipe off the blood.

The cut was no longer there.

They stared at each other, stunned. Then, slowly, a smile grew on Quynh’s face even as her eyes welled with tears.

“My beautiful Andromache,” she said, her voice choked with tears, “I think we get to have a bit more time together.”

Andy began smiling too, then laughed. Quynh joined and threw her arms around Andy. Andy buried her face into Quynh’s hair and realized that Quynh’s laughter had turned to sobs.

There was a knock on the door.

“Guys? Everything okay?” Nile asked.

They pulled away from each other and opened the door, both not wearing shirts and not caring a bit.

“She’s healing!” Quynh sobbed, beaming.

“She’s-” Nile’s eyes widened. “Nicky, Joe, get over here!”

They clambered over each other in the haste to get to the bathroom.

“What? What is wrong?” Nicky demanded, eyes darting around, looking for a threat.

“Andy is healing,” Nile stated, still staring at Andy with wide eyes.

Joe and Nicky rounded on her. “WHAT?”

Andy nodded, grabbing the razor again. She dragged it across her fingertip again, put down the razor, and wiped the blood. She had expected for it to not be real, but when she wiped away the blood, the wound was gone.

Her immortality was really back.

She got to have more time.

#andromaquynhsecretsanta #andromaquynh #andy x quynh #fanfic #my fic

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Text

1998

Summary: Once your brother left for college, it became clear to you that Rami was going to make you Scott’s replacement. And as his replacement, you could expect two things.

One: Rami would continue spending more time at your house than his own.

Two: It was only a matter of time before Rami Malek talked you into doing something that could get you grounded for the rest of your life.

A/N: This fic is basically porn for the best decade EVER: the 90s. @the-real-ramimalekpeen I hope this does your request justice 💛

Wordcount: 7106

Warnings: All the characters are underage (17) so I will warn for drinking, smoking cigarettes, and PG-13 making out. Honestly though, by today’s standards, this fic is wholesome as fuck—welcome (back) to the 90s, bebes 💛

Considering it was after 9:00 pm on a school night, Rami Malek had no business being in your bedroom.

Except that Rami Malek, one half of the legendary Malek Twins, was always at your house.

His best friend, who also happened to be your brother, had just gone off to college. At first, you thought Rami still hung around so much because he was scared about doing the same next fall, but then, a part of you began to wonder if he really did miss your brother that much.

Scott was the first real friend Rami made when he and Sami came to your school as freshmen. At first, they didn’t appear to have a thing in common, but after a few months, Rami and Scott were inseparable. By the end of Rami’s first year at Notre Dame, everyone joked that Scott was actually Rami’s twin, not Sami.

One thing all three of the boys had in common, though, was their penchant for mischief. It wasn’t that they were bad. They were energetic, charming, and had decided to dedicate most of their high school experience to testing the limits placed upon them by authority figures.

After Scott had left and the time Rami spent at your house did not diminish, it became clear that to Rami, you were now your brother’s replacement. And as his replacement, you could expect two things.

One: Rami would continue his tradition of eating dinner more times a week at your house than his own.

This didn’t bother you because your parents loved Rami—they loved him so much they didn’t protest when he insisted on doing the dishes on the nights he ate with you. That was a win in your book because it meant you had one less chore.

However, Rami’s new focus on you did prompt a rather uncomfortable conversation with your mother.

One night after he had gone home, she knocked on your bedroom door and fixed you with that look as she took a seat on the edge of your bed. She sharply inhaled then asked if you and Rami were dating. Because if so, she and your father needed to set some boundaries about the times Rami could and could not be at the house.

The mixed look of shock and horror on your face made her laugh, but that initial reaction was quickly replaced with anger. Scott had girls at the house all the time and your parents had never said a word. In that moment, it became clear that your brother was afforded more freedom just because he was a boy. It was total garbage!

So, for the next few weeks, you stewed in quiet rebellion, outraged by the clear gender discrimination being doled upon you by your OWN parents, and when you confessed as much to Rami, he flashed you the famous Malek grin and you knew you were in for expectation number two: It was only a matter of time before Rami talked you into doing something that would get you grounded for the rest of your life.

A few nights later, you were watching TV in the living room and doing homework (you were doing homework while Rami seemed to be practicing his origami skills) when a paper airplane flew directly into your face and bounced off your forehead.

“Hey!” you yelled, glaring at Rami while you rubbed at the spot where the point hit.

He was already leaning forward, an apology tumbling from his lips which seemed pretty insincere considering he was also trying to stifle his laughter.

“What is this?” you asked as you picked up his paper airplane from the spot where it had landed, the bright colors of the paper catching your eye.

After you unfolded it and realized it was a flyer for a local band, your stomach began to flutter.

You looked up at Rami who looked like the cat that ate the canary. He nodded vigorously at the question on your face, then began to talk in a low, rapid voice.

“Got it all worked out. I’ll come over for dinner. Sami will meet us with the car after your parents are in bed. You don’t have to do anything other than follow my lead—and not get caught.”

At 17, music was everything.

You loved listening to live music, and as long as the concert was at an all-ages venue, you were allowed to go unchaperoned. That was great, if you wanted to see mainstream music, but since focusing his attention on you, Rami had turned you on to the joys of underground rock bands.

Instead of listening to another shitty recording, Rami was presenting you with the opportunity to see a live show.

Feeling giddy, you slammed your notebook shut and you and Rami spent the rest of the evening ironing out your plan. By the time he left to go home, you felt like it was foolproof.

* * * * *

The band was playing at a dive bar just outside of West Hollywood. Rami said the crowd would be fun—mostly college kids, partying it up on Thirsty Thursday. The plan was to hang out, watch TV until your dad gave you the look that meant it was time to kick Rami out, but instead of him leaving, you would call out your goodnights and he would sneak upstairs to your room and hide in your closet.

After you had said goodnight to Rami, you went back into the living room and tried to swallow all of your excitement. After fifteen minutes of fidgeting, you told your parents you had a big test in the morning and wanted to go to bed early.

They smiled and said goodnight, your mom following you up the stairs to take a bath and settle in with her book.

You went into the bathroom and followed your nightly routine, making sure not to rouse any suspicion, and when you finally climbed into your bed and turned off your lamp, Rami popped out of the closet.

“Are they asleep yet?”

“Shhh,” you hissed, clambering to the end of your bed and knocking into him as you stood. “Dad just shut off the TV.” “Sami’s waiting,” Rami said glancing at his watch even though it was too dark to see anything more than a blob of black on his wrist.

“I’m aware of the plan,” you whispered as you ignored his fretting and flipped on the closet light to pick up the outfit you had set aside earlier.

You paused in your movement and hurriedly flicked off the light. Straining your ears, you heard your dad walk by your room and you only released the breath you had been holding when you heard his door click shut.

You flicked on the closet light again, and almost pulled your pajama top off in your haste before realizing that Rami was staring at you. When you turned to look at him, he motioned for you to hurry up, his eyes growing larger as if the bigger they got the more hurried your movements would become.

You threw up your hands and harshly whispered, “Turn around!”

Rami blinked stupidly, his mouth popping open as he realized you needed to change. If you could have seen his cheeks, you would have seen that they were the same color of red as the squares of plaid on his shirt.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered as he turned away, his head hanging down as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his oversized jeans.

With a tsk of dismissal, you shimmied into your favorite LEI jeans with the flared bottoms tattered perfectly from dragging on the ground. You had opted for a fitted, light blue, long-sleeved tee that just showed off a bit of your stomach because the v-neck also showed off your cleavage. You thought about grabbing the flannel you had stolen from your brother, but it was still warm enough out not to need it. Besides, there was sure to be something in the boys’ car if you needed it.

Sitting on the floor, you pushed down the top of your thong, knowing it was peeking out as you settled in to do your makeup.

“I’m dressed,” you said as you began to swipe on some frosted blue eye shadow.

As you pumped your mascara, Rami whined, “Can’t you do that in the car.”

“In the pitch-black car?” you bit back as you scraped a bit of the eye shadow into one of your empty make up containers before dribbling clear lip gloss in to mix it up. As you dabbed it on your lips, you smiled at the perfectly muted but still-frosty compliment to your eye makeup.

Smacking your lips together with a pop, you quickly wrapped two small chunks of your hair up in two messy knots and secured them with tight, clear gumbands. You adjusted your chocker, then slipped into a pair of black, chunky shoes.

You grabbed your wide, black belt and looped it through your jeans as Rami paced, the swishing of his jeans starting to drive you a little crazy as you rushed over to fix up your bed so it looked like a lump of a human was still in it.

After situating your colorful hemp purse across your torso, you softly said, “Okay. Let’s go.”

Rami stopped pacing and looked you over before giving you a half smile. “You look good.”

“Until my parents catch us doing this and skin me alive,” you countered as you flicked off the light.

Rami grinned, his teeth flashing in the dark. “They won’t—promise.”

“Your promises have, like, an 83% failure rate,” you argued as you pushed past him and opened the window as quietly as possible.

“Fine—I swear on Sami’s life we won’t get caught,” he whispered before he scrambled out of the window and on to the roof.

He held out his hand and you took it while you climbed out after him. Your eyes looked toward your parents’ room, and your heart hammered as you were sure their light was going to flick on at any second.

“That mayyybe gives us odds in the ballpark of 70 - 30,” you whispered when you turned your eyes back to Rami, quickly pulling away as you realized you were still holding his hand.

He stifled a chuckle as he crept toward the farthest edge of the roof, and when a ladder appeared, you knew Sami was below.

“Go ahead,” Rami rasped, holding on to the top of the ladder as you swung your legs over and began to cautiously climb down.

When you got closer to the ground, you felt Sami’s hand on your calf as he whispered, “Hey, Y/N—you good?”

“Yeah,” you whispered back, a wave of ease sweeping through you when you finally touched the ground.

“Cute,” Sami smiled as he gave one of the twists in your hair a little tap.

You smiled back before turning your attention to Rami as he hopped off the second to last rung. With a practiced ease, he pulled the ladder from the roof without making a sound and laid it flat behind your mother’s rose bushes. The ladder was completely hidden, and you quickly realized that the boys had done this many times before.

The three of you jogged to where Sami had parked the car, and since you had followed him to the driver’s side, he opened up the back door so you could climb in. When Rami settled into the passenger seat, he let out a whoop of success. The three of you laughed, and you knew you had to ask, “How many times did you two sneak Scottie out of the house?”

Sami snorted and started the engine, while Rami shrugged his shoulders and turned his hands over, feigning ignorance.

“I see how it is,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Rami’s profile until he quickly turned and shot you a wink that was more like a blink.

You giggled, “One eye is a wink, you dork!”

Sami’s shoulders shook with a silent chuckle as he turned up the radio and you settled back in your seat to bask in the joy of being with your friends; it was well worth the trepidation you had felt about sneaking out on a school night, and as you watched Rami’s smiling profile, lit up by each street lamp you sped past, you felt a sudden flush of pleasure that he had gone through so much trouble to give you this night.

As soon as you were on the 101 heading out of the Valley, the boys both lit up. Rami offered you a cigarette, expecting you to decline, so when you said, “Why not?” he choked as he was inhaling and Sami’s eyes flashed up at you from the rearview.

“Um, this is my night of rebellion, okay? I may as well do it right,” you explained as Rami put your cigarette between his lips, lit it, then passed it back to you.

He watched with interest as you smoothly inhaled, then blew a stream of smoke out in his direction.

“What? You think Scott and I never partied together when mom and dad went outta town? Who do you think got me drunk for the first time?”

“How old?” Sami asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled, his cigarette dangling from his lips as he relaxed back into the driver’s seat having just switched lanes.

“14. Got me fucked up on screwdrivers of all things. I couldn’t drink OJ for a month.”

The boys burst into laughter, then Rami explained that Scott had done the same thing to them.

“Sami was so hungover mom thought he had the flu.”

“And you weren’t hungover because you puked your guts out in dad’s hedges. I still don’t think he knows why that one turned brown and died.”

“Shut up,” Rami grinned as he lightly punched his brother’s shoulder.

“I’m driving asshole,” Sami murmured around his cigarette.

“At least I don’t look like one,” Rami countered, making you roll your eyes and take another long drag of your cigarette.

Because you didn’t smoke often, you already felt the sweet lightheadedness that came after a few pulls. You ashed out of the crack in your window and breathed in the cool air that was flowing from the boys’ open windows, contrasting deliciously with the heat of the smoke as it trailed down your throat.

“Fight nice, boys,” you called up to the front, before immediately regretting your interruption because they both teamed up to rag on you.

Twins, you thought as you countered their attacks as best you could.

Maybe it was the effect of the nicotine, or the natural high of sneaking out with the Malek brothers, but watching Rami from the back seat, you began to think of him as more than just your brother’s friend, and now, your friend. There was something about him, something about the way he made you feel that didn’t feel like any of your other friends.

And speaking of other friends, you looked at the back of Sami’s head and watched his eyes in the rearview mirror, but that thing, that chemical pull of attraction wasn’t there. When you glanced over at Rami, you felt it.

You let your gaze ping-pong between them, testing out your fledgling feelings. With a frown, you turned away from both of them and watched the cars in the parallel lanes, wondering if it was even worth figuring out.

“Helloooo,” Rami called, squeezing your knee to pull you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? What did you say?”

“I asked what you thought of Stacy.”

“Stacy Browning?”

“Duh. She’s like the only Stacy in our English class.”

“What about her?”

“She’s supposed to be here tonight.”

“Rami’s got the hots for Staaacyyy,” Sami sing-songed as he signaled and took the exit for West Hollywood.

Rami didn’t refute his brother and something mean bubbled out of you as an image of Stacy, laughing and pushing into Rami’s side as he wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers just resting above the pocket on the ass of her jeans, flashed through your mind.

“Sami has a better shot than you any day of the week. Isn’t that how it usually works, Ram?”

You watched as the hurt twisted across Rami’s face, but your attention was drawn to Sami’s laughter as he guffawed, “Ooooh—harsh!”

You laughed, looking anywhere but at Rami, who half-heartedly joined in.

What you said made you feel sick, like an aftereffect of a violent action.

What the fuck, Y/N? you scolded yourself.

“Is this the turn?” Sami asked, growing serious as he navigated the crowded streets and started looking for parking.

“Yeah—park anywhere you find a spot. The bar’s like a block, maybe two that way.”

After a few more minutes, Sami found a spot and parallel parked with an easy precision.

“Good thing Rami didn’t drive,” you teased, trying to get him to look at you like he had before you’d hurt him.

Instead, he hopped out of the passenger side and slammed the door shut.

Sami opened your door, and chuckled as he said, “Fuck—there are at least three trashcans that have unclaimed relatives lying in the morgue thanks to him.”

You laughed and looked over at Rami who had a soft smile on his face. He shook his head, “Fuck you guys.”

You skipped over to him and poked at his ribs. “Come ooon—we know you didn’t mean to destroy the entire trashcan-family on Woodbridge Street. It was an honest massacre because you forgot which pedal was the break.”

“Like the first time I drove EVER!” Rami defended, finally turning to smile at you.

“And who doesn’t even have their license?” he shot back, his face coming dangerously close to yours as he picked on you.

“Like, excuuuse me for having an older brother! How keen do you think mom and dad were to let me drive after Scottie nearly got arrested for speeding—twice?”

“Oh, shit,” Sami said. “I remember that second time—”

The twins launched into a retelling of the story, one you’d heard a thousand times, but it made Rami laugh, his face back to its normal, jovial disposition. As you walked, your head turning between the boys as they spoke, you relaxed knowing it wasn’t in Rami’s nature to dwell on something negative. By now, he had probably dismissed your comment as a joke.

The bar came into view and there was no mistaking it for a nice place. The neon signs made it look more sinister than hip, and the trashcans outside were overflowing. However, the crowd queued at the entrance was just as Rami had described—college-aged kids, smoking, talking, and laughing as they paid their cover and ducked inside, the noise spilling into the street each time the bouncer opened the door.

Instead of joining the line at the entrance, Rami led you and Sami down an alley that was a little too dark for your liking.

“Rami?” you questioned, and he reached back for your hand, linking his fingers with yours.

After a few more steps, Rami stopped and released your hand. He reached up and banged loudly on the unmarked, steel door.

An older man, probably in his 50s, pushed open the door and flooded the backstreet with light. You squinted as you were assaulted with the brightness and the smoke that wafted out.

“Malek. My man,” he rasped as he fist-bumped Rami. “And Malek Número Dos. What’s up bros?”

Sami greeted the man in the same fashion as his brother, and then the man noticed you.

“Switchin’ it up tonight, huh? Bringin’ a girl ‘stead of leavin’ with one?”

You raised your brow and crossed your arms, that same feeling from earlier creeping through your chest and into your gut.

“Scott’s little sister,” Rami explained, and the older man chortled and gave you a full, lingering look.

He nodded with what you deemed to be approval and he fished out three paper bracelets from his pocket.

“Keep her outta trouble, yeah?” he said with a slow, lecherous grin.

“You can count on it,” Rami answered, giving him a tight, but still friendly smile as he turned to you, instructing you to hold out your wrist.

You watched as he positioned the neon orange band, then peeled back the tape.

“Too tight?”

“Nah. It’s good.”

Maybe it was nothing, but Rami’s thumb lightly stroked the spot where he had just stuck the band in place and when you looked up, he was watching your face.

You smiled at him, a slow, sincere grin and when he returned your look, it felt like you were swallowing honey—sticky and sweet, the warm feeling slid down your throat and made your cheeks feel hot.

Sami cleared his throat.

“Someone wanna do me?” he asked as he waved his bracelet in front of your faces.

Rami shot him a vicious look, but Sami just stuck out his wrist and waited.

“We meet right out front after the show. Not in the alley.”

You and Rami both just looked at him, and Sami prompted, “Okay?” as if he were dealing with two teenaged idiots instead of also being one himself.

“Yeah—meet out front,” Rami said dismissively, his eyes willing Sami to get lost, but he was already slipping away down the hall and out into the bar.

“You ready for this?”

“Just—just don’t leave me alone, okay?” you said, thinking about the way Rami’s guy had looked at you.

“Of course not,” Rami said with a reassuring smile. He lowered his voice and continued, “Let’s put some distance between us and Crazy Carlos.

“Crazy Carlos?” you hissed.

“No one calls him that to his face,” Rami assured you, then laughed at the way your eyes widened.

Once you were mixing into the crowd, the noise level ratcheted up and you were forced to yell into each other’s ears.

Rami’s eyes scanned the bar, once, twice, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was looking for Stacy.

“Wanna get a drink?” you asked loudly, leaning into his body to get closer to his ear.

“Yeah! What do you want?”

“Just a beer!”

Rami nodded and led you to the bar. You tried to take up as little space as possible and when you spotted a couple leaving their hightop along the wall, you tugged on Rami’s flannel to get his attention. He turned back to look at you and you pointed to the table. He nodded and watched as you darted over and took a seat.

Instantly, your hand landed in the waste of someone’s spilled drink and you huffed in disgust as you wiped your hand on your jeans. You looked around for Sami, but it was impossible to see through the throng of drinkers and the haze of smoke.

“You okay?” Rami yelled, taking the seat across from you and sliding your bottle toward you.

“Stop treating me like a baby! I’m the same age as you!”

Rami rolled his eyes, but his lips were drawn into a smirk as he took a swig of his beer.

You took a drink, too, and watched him comfortably lean back into the wall so he could face the room and check out the crowd, your mind immediately flashing back to that image of Rami and Stacy, laughing, touching.

“She’s not good enough for you,” you said through gritted teeth.

“What?” Rami asked, leaning forward as much as the table allowed.

“She’s not good enough for you!”

Rami shook his head, still unable to hear you. With a huff, you slid off your chair and rounded the table to stand between his spread legs. You rested one hand on his thigh as you leaned into his ear and yelled, “Stacy! She’s not good enough for you!”

Rami moved back, raising his eyebrows, as he sat up straighter on his stool.

“Not exactly what you said in the car,” he answered, your eyes watching his lips so you could make out what he said.

Scanning his face, you wondered if he could see that you were sorry.

Just as you leaned in to apologize, the lead singer whistled into the mike and made you jump. Rami’s eyes danced with laughter as he took another swig of his beer, and both of you turned your attention to the band.

“Hey, you drunk motherfuckers—you ready to put a little shimmy in your jimmy? A little rock in your cock?”

The crowd cheered, and you felt Rami stand, his front pressing into your back as he lightly pushed you into the crowd. He kept moving until you could see the stage, then he moved to stand beside you, his arm resting against yours.

The first two songs were great, and you knew that sneaking out had been completely worth it. The band was good, really good, and you expected you’d be able to say you’d seen them live before they made it big.

As the songs played, you and Rami both moved along to the music, heads bobbing and bodies shifting as much as the limited space allowed. Every now and then, you’d shoot a grin at each other, and when the third song began, you realized your beer was long gone.

You thought about shoving the empty bottle in your pocket, but Rami read your mild distress and leaned in to tell you to save his spot.

He shuffled through the crowd to get rid of your empties, and you widened your stance to save his spot, then refocused on the band.

Before the third song was over, Rami was back, and you mouthed thanks. He gave your hair twist a tap, just as Sami had done earlier, making you smile and shake your head.

After the next song, the bassist and lead guitar put their instruments down and the drummer disappeared.

“You’re fuckin’ animals and I love it! But those guys need a drink so I’m gonna slow shit down with a song I wrote a few years back.”

When the acoustic number began, you were shocked the lead singer’s gruff voice was so low and smooth. As he crooned, people swayed lightly with their faces trained on the stage. You don’t know whether it was you who moved closer to Rami or Rami who moved closer to you, but somehow, you found yourself standing partially in front of him, just close enough for his hand to creep around your waist. You smiled without looking at him and stepped into his touch, pulling his other arm to wrap around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. He laced his fingers across your stomach and leaned into your hair, both of you swaying in time to the soft music.

As you stood together, like a couple, your mind began to race. Everything became too much and not enough at the same time. Rami’s grip was too loose and too tight. The singer’s words were too soft and his guitar was too loud. The shadows cast on the stage were too dark and the spotlight was too bright.

And when you felt Rami’s chest vibrate into your back as he sang along under his breath, it felt too harsh, but when his pinky lightly stroked the exposed flesh on your stomach, it felt too sensitive. Your body was a tingling mess at his touch, so you took back some control. Your arms were already resting over Rami’s, but your thumb found his and you touched him gently, back and forth, in a mirror of the way his little finger was still sliding over the exposed skin of your midriff.

Rami’s mouth crept closer to your ear and you shivered as his breath rustled your hair. You wanted to crane your neck, turn into his body and give him the angle he needed to kiss you, but you were still at war with feeling too much and not enough at the same time.

When the song ended, the singer thanked everyone, then encouraged you all to grab another beer while he took a piss. You felt a profound loss when Rami relaxed his grip and let his arms slide away from your waist and to your hips.

“Want another beer?” he asked into your ear as he gave your hips a squeeze before he dropped his hands.

“Sure—yeah,” you lied.

You turned to watch him disappear into the crowd and almost immediately, Rami’s warmth against your back was replaced with a new but identical one.

“Having fun?”

You whirled around, your mouth popping open slightly before snapping shut.

“Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Sam—are you drinking?” you asked, bending slightly to sniff at his cup.

“It’s water, dumbass. They only have two more songs.”

You narrowed your eyes at Rami’s twin as he continued to look at you, clearly waiting for you to confess your secret. You didn’t know if he had seen the two of you during the last song or if he was just acting on a hunch, but you were not about to confess your feelings to Sami before you told Rami.

Even though that was exactly what Sami wanted.

The same blueish eyes as Rami’s bored into yours, but neither of you spoke.

You decided to answer Sami’s original question in a breezy tone, “By the way, yeah, I’m having fun. Are you having fun?”

He narrowed his eyes in response.

“Because I think this is the most fun I’ve ever—"

“Just tell him!” Sami interrupted with a huff.

“There’s nothing to tell,” you insisted, crossing your arms and stepping toward him as someone bumped into you.

“Stop lying.”

“There isn’t,” you insisted, hating the way Sami was smirking at you over the rim of his water cup.

He took a drink, then said, “Guess I’ll let Stacy know she’s free to come ov—”

“She’s here?!?” you panicked, your eyes darting in the direction Sami had been looking.

His laughter rang out over the din and you whipped your eyes back to his.

“Nothing to tell, huh?”

Your nostrils flared as you pinched at his side, knowing he was ticklish. He jumped away from your fingers, chuckling as he made his way back to his friends. You watched him go, making sure he was lying about Stacy.

Right before the band packed back onto the tiny stage, Rami shuffled back into his spot beside you and handed you a beer.

You greedily drank, thirsty from the smoke and eager to unwind your nerves after Sami’s taunts.

Rami watched you drink and smiled at you over the lip of his bottle in an identical grin to his brother’s earlier teasing smirk.

“Easy, killer.”

Swallowing, you reminded him, “This is still my night to let loose, right?”

Rami pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bobbed his head in a slow nod, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t read.

The band started up again, actually playing three more songs so you got to bask in a silent satisfaction that Sami had been wrong about one thing. As the band bid goodnight, you were wired.

The set had been incredible, and you wanted to say so to Rami, but he was already nodding his head toward the exit. As you navigated through the crowd, you grabbed on to the edge of his flannel. It was last call, and as you passed by the bar, it was almost too crowded to toss your empty bottles on to.

When you were finally outside, you couldn’t stop babbling to Rami about how great the music was, even though your ears were severely ringing. He punctuated your excitement with several toldja sos, his eyes watching the crowd for Sami.

“I just love this feeling, ya know?” you exclaimed, bouncing on your toes and taking a cigarette when Rami offered.

“Imagine how it feels for them—the performers.”

You looked at Rami through the haze of his exhaling smoke and your eyes danced over his familiar, yet altogether new face. How could you have never seen just how attractive he was?

“Rami. I . . .” you dropped your gaze and flicked your cigarette nervously, wondering if you should just confess like Sami told you to do.

“Wanna thank me for draggin’ you out on a school night? Making sure you had a great time? Being the perfect friend? I assure you, all this I know,” Rami finished with a smug look, his round cheeks hollowing as he pulled on his cigarette.

“That’s just it. Are we . . . friends? I mean,” you floundered for a moment, your eyes landing anywhere but on his. “Don’t you just hang with me because you miss Scott?”

Rami laughed.

“Are you for real? In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly look like your fuckin’ brother.”

Your eyes landed on Rami’s just in time to catch the way they dragged over your body, top-knots to toes and back again.

“You like the way I look?” you asked, your voice so low you almost couldn’t hear it over the ringing in your ears.

Flicking your cigarette to the ground, you stepped toward Rami, wetting your suddenly dry lips.

“Yeah. Thought that was obvious,” he said, his eyes half-lidded but still commanding as his blue-grey irises darkened when his pupils grew just a bit wider.

“Not to me,” you answered, shaking your head slightly as Rami’s hands came up to your waist, his ring and pinky fingers settling against your bare skin.

His eyes were almost shut. Your faces moved closer and Rami’s tilted slightly to the right—

“Ready to go?” Sami asked, jangling the car keys obnoxiously next to your ears, startling you and Rami apart.

“Jesus Sam you fucking cocksucker,” Rami cursed, running a hand through his curly hair as he glared at his brother.

“Not interrupting, am I? Because there’s nothing to interrupt, right?” he questioned you with an arrogant lilt.

“Nope! Nothing at all!” you shot over your shoulder as you stalked off in the direction of the car.

The boys quickly followed, and Sami snickered, catching you and slinging his arm around your shoulders.

“Have a good night, Y/N?”

“For the most part,” you grumbled.

Sami released you and you fell into step next to Rami.

His hands were buried in the pockets of his jeans and he kept his eyes to the ground as you walked. You kept checking your peripheral to see if he was looking at you, but he wasn’t.

The drive back was relatively quiet, Sami turning up the radio to drown out the ringing in his own ears. As you leaned back in the seat and watched the blurry skyline, Sex and Candy came on the radio and you tried not to think about Rami as John Wozniak’s deep voice reverberated through the car; you tried not to think about how close you’d come to kissing him and about how badly you didn’t want this night to end before you did.

Mama this surely is a dream Yeah mama this surely is a dream

* * * * *

“Need help with the ladder?” Sami asked as he put the car in park.

“Nah. We’ll manage,” Rami answered as he got out.

“Goodnight, shithead. Thank you for driving,” you snapped before you opened your door.

“Better kiss him goodnight before Stacy does,” Sami said, looking at you in the rearview, puckering his lips so he could make a loud smooching noise.

“Stacy doesn’t live on my roof!”

“You ne-ever knooow,” he sang.

“Oh my god,” you said, smiling in spite of wanting to slap him.

Sami cackled as you opened the door, his lighter hissing as he lit another cigarette.

“I hate your brother,” you muttered on the walk back to your house.

“What did he say?”

“It’s not the what. It’s the way. Like he knows every fucking thing there is to know in the world.”

“Well . . . usually he does.”

“I know,” you sighed in defeat. “So can I hate him for that?”

“Absolutely,” Rami chuckled.

The streetlamps lit your way, but once you reached the edge of your lawn, Rami made sure you stayed on the perimeter of the dusk-to-dawn light. He wedged the ladder out from behind the roses, then set it up, stepping on the bottom rung to make sure it was steady.

“Go ahead. I’ll follow to make sure you can get your window open.”

Climbing steadily, you had to stifle a laugh thinking about how often your brother had done this, and done it stinking drunk. The effect of the two beers you had drank were long gone, but the thrill of what you were about to get away with still hummed beneath the surface of your skin.

That . . . and Rami’s presence.

As he stood up when he stepped off the ladder, your eyes locked and sent a fresh wave of butterflies to assault your stomach. Clearing your throat, you shuffled to your window. Rami followed, slowly and quietly working it open. As you waited, you were overwhelmed by the scent of him—the remnants of the bar, his fading cologne, the shampoo he used in his hair—all of it swirled together into something that was more intoxicating than a hundred beers.

You ducked into your room as soon as the window was open, and the sleeve of Rami’s shirt brushed against your arm as he helped you, his fingers featherlight on your shoulder before trailing down to the exposed skin of your lower back as you moved away.

You kicked your discarded pajamas from earlier toward the gap at the bottom of your bedroom door, made sure it was locked, then flicked on the light in your closet, pulling the door mostly shut so there was just enough brightness to see Rami as he stood in front of your window, hands back in his pockets as he crossed and uncrossed his feet while leaning against the window sill.

“Thanks for tonight,” you whispered, closing the distance and letting the last energy of the band spur you on to make your move.

“Yeah. Of course,” Rami murmured, his eyes finally meeting yours.

You were so close now, all one of you had to do was lean into the other’s lips, and somehow, you just knew it had to be you.

Your hands shaking slightly, you rested them on the top of his chest, the smooth fabric of his black long sleeve shirt warm under your touch.

He shuffled, awkwardly pulling his hands from his pockets so he could rest them on your waist, his fingers nervously ticking over the skin on your lower back.

You glanced from his lips to eyes, and when your eyes flicked back to his lips, he sucked in a breath.

Then, you kissed him.

He was stiff and uncertain at first, but as you leaned into him, your body flush with his, he relaxed, opening to exhale as he kissed you back, his tongue the first to swipe over your lips. You opened for him and when your tongues twined, it was electric—a culmination of everything that had been building between the two of you.

Moaning into his mouth, you grabbed the sides of his flannel and pulled him toward your bed, backing up until your legs hit against the mattress. You broke free from the kiss with a smacking sound before you pulled Rami on top of you.

You both silently giggled as he settled between your legs, his weight heavy, warm, and so fucking welcome on top of you.

Rami’s lips pressed into yours again, and soon you were exploring each other’s mouths with fervor. One of your hands had snaked around his torso while the other was thrust into his thick curls, urging his mouth to keep moving against yours.

He held himself up with one arm, but his other hand was roaming—sliding under your shirt to clutch at the soft skin of your side, then moving up to cup your breast over your bra.

With a sighing moan, you wrapped your legs around his waist and slid your own hands under his shirt to clutch at his hot skin. You rubbed across his abdomen and over his chest before moving around to lightly scratch across his back.

Only when you felt the hardness underneath his jeans grinding into your crotch did you regain some semblance of what the hell you were doing.

With one final buck of your hips that drew an obscene, entirely too loud moan from the back of Rami’s throat, you gently pushed him away.

Both of you were panting, swiping at your mouths to clear away the excess saliva.

Rami sat back and slid off your bed, adjusting himself as he stood.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“I think we better say goodnight,” you said as you scrambled up.

Rami moved back to your open window and turned before he ducked out.

“Goodnight,” he said with a megawatt grin that lit up his entire face.

“Goodnight,” you said, your face split into the same grin.

He leaned in and sweetly kissed the smile from your face.

Your eyes had only just barely opened again, and he was on the roof, ducking down to whisper, “See you at school,” his face lit by that grin again as you watched him shuffle to the edge of the roof and down the ladder.

When the top of the ladder disappeared, you shut your window then dove onto your bed and gurgled with excitement into your pillow.

Senior year was definitely going to be a year to remember.

#rami malek #rami malek x reader #female reader #teenage reader #teenage Rami #guest starring #teenage sami malek #duh #rami malek fluff #rami malek THROWBACK #rami malek fic #high school fic #my writing

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hopelesshawks · 3 years

Note

Heyyyyy bestie. Saw you are doing matchups as your 400 followers event and now im curious on who you would match me with considering we have been talking for ages. Do your worst 😌

400 Follower Matchup Event

Liz!! I’m trying not to let myself be biased by who I remember you simping for lmao but I match you with Denki Kaminari!

He would 100% match your energy on your good days and when everything feels like too much he’d happily be your emotional support golden retriever boyfriend. You two would be absolute menaces together and it would be chaotic perfection

You set your phone to the side and huff, a quick check of the clock revealing to you that it’s 2am. Theoretically you should go to bed. You know this. But knowing this in theory and actually doing something about it (i.e. going to sleep) are very different and honestly you’ve got the most intense craving for ice cream right now and you know for a fact there’s none in your apartment.

You grab your phone back up, hopping into messages to text your boyfriend to see if he’s still awake. He replies almost immediately with a yes before catching himself and asking why the fuck you’re up so late. “Why are YOU up so late?” you fire back, watching as the little dots to indicate he’s typing pop up and disappear a few times over before he finally replies “Touche”. There’s a brief pause before another message comes in to your phone:

“Did you need something?”

“Ice cream.”

“At 2am?”

“Yea.”

“Bet. Be there in 20.”

It’s actually 2:40 by the time Denki is texting you to come down because he’s waiting outside but you don’t mind at all, quickly throwing a hoodie on over your pajamas and slipping into the first shoes you can find. When you emerge from your apartment building, Denki is grinning from the inside of his car. “Get in loser we’re going for ice cream!” he beams, honking his horn a few times. You giggle, shushing him as you clamber your way into his car, pressing a quick kiss to his lips that makes his wide smile even wider. “You’re gonna wake all my neighbors, c’mon let’s go,” you giggle. Denki gives you a salute before pulling away, taking one hand off the wheel to intertwine your fingers together instead.

It’s only after driving around the next twenty minutes that you realize the slight flaw in your plan. It is 3am so every ice cream shop in town is closed. Before you can truly get dismayed though Denki insists he’s got one more trick up his sleeve before navigating the car through a few roads until he makes his way to a nearby gas station. You give him a skeptical look but he just insists you trust him. He kills the engine and rushes around to your side of the car to open the door for you and help you out as if the two of you are at some red carpet event in a dress and a tux instead of at an old gas station in your pajamas. He directs you inside, his hand never leaving yours as he drags you through the refrigerated section until you reach the one section colder than the rest and an array of ice cream flavors meets your gaze. “Take your pick beautiful,” he beams proudly, pulling you in close so he can wrap his arms around your waist, his chest to your back and his chin resting on top of your head as you peruse your options. Finally settling on your favorite, Denki always has at least one or two points of contact with you as the two of you take it to the register and he insists on paying.

The two of you settle onto the curb outside the gas station with your bounty and a couple of plastic spoons Kaminari had managed to snag. The ice cream takes too long to melt so it’s slow going and you both almost break your spoons multiple times but it’s perfect. Contentment settles softly in your chest, wrapping itself around your heart like a warm blanket as you and Denki’s laughter echoes in the quiet night.

#400 follower redux #hopeless.inbox #hopeless.olivia

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aiorevelations · 3 years

Text

A Number, Not a Name: part 17!

In the words of Connie “You better buckle your seatbelt. It’s gonna be a strange ride.” Though strange may not be the most “accurate” word. Lol.

Present-day:

Liana sat on the edge of her bed, utterly exhausted. She placed her clutch on her nightstand and then reached down and slipped off her black heels. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It had been a very long and tiring evening. On nights like tonight, it was easy for doubt to try and take over her mind. The past five years had been long and exhausting but in a few more days it would all be worth it. At least that’s what she told herself. She sat up from the bed and reached the closet. After sliding the closet door open, she started untying the bow in the back of her dress. She stopped as she eyed her bracelet, thinking back to a time nearly two decades before. Her eyes then landed on the jewelry box tucked in the corner of the closet shelf. Memories flooded her mind as she combed through its contents. Finally, she found it. Her mother’s charm bracelet.

She let out a shaky breath as she held the piece of jewelry in her hand. She remembered her sister’s gentle smile. The tender look in her eyes when she gave her the bracelet. To Neptune and Back. Forever. That’s what they had promised each other. How easily promises could be broken. It had nearly killed her inside, seeing Milena these past few weeks yet not being able to talk to her face to face. Right now they were on opposing sides of the spectrum. For both their sakes it was best to stay out of each other’s lives. The only thing they'd probably agree on would be their hatred for Dalmar. Beyond that, there wasn’t anything to bind them together.

A tear escaped Liana’s eye. She had hoped her and Milena’s love for one another would be enough but in the end, tragedy had torn them apart.

…..

Tasha lay back in bed; she had to admit, it was rather nice to feel a soft mattress beneath her after all the hours she’d spent on her feet, never mind her argument with Jason.

Only one more day. Thank goodness. She turned over, sinking her head into the pillow.

She found himself thinking about home, not her place in D.C., but the home she shared with her mom and dad, who had died a couple of years ago. It had been the best of times growing up. Being an only child one could say her parents spoiled her. Dolls, dresses, coloring books. Every gift imaginable they had given their little girl. Yet they had instilled in her a sense of responsibility and hard work. Told her to never quit on a job or task but to see it through to the end. She supposed that was why she was always determined to make sure all her assignments were a success. If only her parents could see her now. Her life as an NSA agent. She severely doubted this was the life they had had in mind for their daughter, considering how protective they had been over her. Every fall or tumble they’d be there by her side. As a girl, she’d sometimes be a little annoyed by their constant babying of her. Being such a free independent spirit all she wanted was to spread her wings and fly. Now what she wouldn’t give for them to fuss over her again. To talk to them just one more time.

Tasha turned on her side and wiped a tear streaming down her cheek. She wasn’t one to dwell on or show her feelings. She’d push them to the side and keep on going, it was easier that way. To those on the outside, it seemed like she was unaffected or even cold and distant. Like nothing affected her. As if she didn’t feel anything. But the truth was she did feel deeply. Love. Loss. Joy. Pain. Every emotion tugged at her heart. For her, especially in this line of work, it seemed better to try to forget them. It was easier not to open up. To stay closed off. Not many people could get past her walls. She’d supposed it’d stay that way.

Perhaps that’s what makes me a good agent. My ability to not let my emotions impact my decisions…unlike other people. Tasha shut her eyes and shook her head. Just forget it. Soon enough he’ll be someone else’s headache. She chuckled and glanced at the clock on her nightstand. 4:30. I really need to get some sleep. Tasha closed her eyes and tried to block out the city noises in the distance.

Suddenly she felt a sharp, almost stabbing, pain in her arm and a hand cover her mouth. Her eyes shot open. She told herself to stay calm. The worst thing she could do was panic. A strong hand grabbed her right arm and dragged her out of the warm bed. As her feet touched the cold floor, Tasha stepped her right foot back behind her and twisted to the right. She found herself standing in front of an older muscular man. Tasha quickly brought her arms down and wrapped them around his legs. She leaned forward and tackled the man to the ground. She flipped over him and brought a swift hard punch to his face, sending him collapsing to the floor.

Glancing up she saw a younger brawny gentleman lunging toward her. Tasha sprang in his direction and jumped on his left leg thigh. She placed her hands on his shoulders and swung around him. She placed her right leg around his neck and then hooked it under the man’s right arm. She put her left leg under the man’s right arm, grappling it. She leaned back behind the man’s back and twisted her body to the left around the man’s arm. The movement sent him flying to the floor as she landed upright on her feet. Seeing no one else in the room Tasha quickly darted for the door. In the darkness, she couldn’t tell if they were some of Dalmar’s men or not. Right now she didn’t care.

…..

Jason brought his fist to the man’s jaw which caused him to stagger backward. The previous man he’d fought had been a lot easier to subdue. He had hoped he and Tasha would have been able to make it back D.C. without any “incidents.” I should have known this was too easy. The man brought his hand to his bloodied face and wiped away some of the blood from his mouth. His eyes were filled with rage. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. The two men faced each other silently for a moment. The man rushed toward Jason. Jason grabbed the man’s arm with his left hand and pulled it as far as he could to the left side of his body. Jason then raised the man’s arm above his head as he brought his right fist to his chest several times. The man dropped the knife and doubled over in pain. Jason grabbed the pen on his nightstand and ran as fast as he could to his room’s door. His heart was pounding and all his senses were on high alert. Capture was not an option. As he stepped outside the door he ran into someone. Instinctively he brought his fist up to the person’s face but realized it was Tasha. He could tell by the look on her face that she was just as relieved to see him as he was to see her.

“Thank God. It’s you.” Jason sighed. “I have the pen” he held it in front of her.

“We have to get out of here!” Tasha started down the hall.

“Right behind you!”

Whatever other guests were on this level Tasha and Jason were quite sure they were awake by all the noise. The thing they couldn’t afford was innocent civilians getting caught up in whatever situation they were in. The shouts of “Be quiet.” and “We’re trying to sleep.” confirmed their suspicions. Jason and Tasha had nearly reached the stairs when they saw two men holding tasers by the door leading to the stairwell.

“There’s another staircase at the other end of the hall!” Tasha yelled. They ran toward the other end of the corridor. However, they found themselves cornered as they spotted the same men they’d taken down in their suites coming towards them.

“Where to now?” Jason asked.

“Um...um” Tasha frantically looked around. Behind them, the men they’d seen by the staircase were coming closer. Things were quickly spiraling out of control, anyone could see that. Tasha spotted a passageway branching off of the main hall just beyond them. “Down that side hall.”

The two of them ran to the hall’s end. To the side, there was a large air vent. Jason quickly ripped the cover off and peered through the opening. “Looks like there’s a vertical shaft up ahead about ten yards.”

“Terrific. Vertical shafts are my favorite.” Tasha scrambled into the shaft and started making her way up. Jason clambered in after her on his elbows and knees. The shaft was dark and dank. Sharp edges of sheet metal scraped and cut against their exposed skin.

“It’s sure tight in here,” Jason muttered under his breath. “Good thing I’ve been working out.”

“Really. I hadn’t noticed.”

“Which part? How tight it is here or how I’ve been working out?”

Tasha rolled her eyes as she came to a bend in the shaft. “Do you have to use humor in every situation?”

“It’s how I cope,” Jason took a breath.“So is this how all your other missions go?”

“If you’re asking if I’ve ever had to climb in an air vent in my pajamas. The answer is no.”

“I should have figured.”

“I see some light up ahead. I think it’s the end of the shaft.”

“Good.”

Tasha winced. “Ow.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I cut my leg again on the side of the shaft.” Tasha reached the top of the vent. “We made it to the next floor.” She pressed up against the vent cover and pushed it to the side. She slid through the opening and stood up. Jason quickly exited the air vent. They each looked around, expecting any moment for their pursuers to turn up. The floor level remained all clear and eerily silent. Except for their heavy breathing, not another sound was discernible on the third story. They each eyed the staircase for a few seconds. Seeing no one they gave the other a knowing look and nod and raced to the stairs. Down the winding staircase, they went. The clattering of their footsteps resounded through the building. They were going so fast they nearly tripped on a few occasions. Tasha and Jason had reached the last landing before the ground floor when Jason felt a tingling sensation in his leg. In a split second, it turned into a searing burning pain, like an electrical current flowing through his body. Every inch of his body was in excruciating pain. He felt his legs begin to give way and he collapsed to the floor. He could hear a muffled sound. The sound of Tasha calling out to him yet he was too dazed to make out the words.

Tasha saw standing in front of her the younger gentleman she’d taken down earlier. Holding a taser in her direction. The left side of his face was still splattered in blood from the punch she’d given him earlier. “Looks like this is the end of the line” he snarled.

Tasha hurled herself at the man. The man fired off his taser gun just as Tasha reached him. The shot fired off at the ceiling. Tasha sent the man flying back into the wall behind him. The man brought his hand up Tasha’s throat. She struggled to breathe as the man’s fingers closed tighter around her neck. She brought her leg up and kicked the side of the man’s head. He released his grasp and slumped to the floor.

Tasha whipped her head around and saw two other men coming at her. She crouched down to the ground and kicked and spun her leg out toward one of the men, taking his legs out. Tasha flipped over to her feet and delivered a kick to the other man’s abdomen. The man stayed on his feet and grabbed Tasha from behind. He desperately tried to pin her arms behind her back. Before he could Tasha elbowed him in his face and placed her hand firmly behind his neck. She brought her legs to her chest and then down again to the ground, flipping the man over her head as she fell to the ground. She quickly placed her hands behind her head, lifted her legs into the air, and pushed herself back on her feet into a squat. She straightened herself up and rushed to Jason’s side.

She brought her hand to his face. “Jason, are you okay?”

He struggled to sit up. “I’m fine,” he grimaced.

“Here let me help you up.” Tasha gave him a hand and helped him to his feet.

“Thank you.” He took a breath. “Nice job by the way.”

“Thanks.” Tasha scanned their surroundings and the stairwell exit making sure it was clear. “Can you walk?”

Jason took a step forward. It was painful but nothing he couldn’t stand. “Yeah. I’ve had worse.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

…..

“White Falcon have you acquired the targets yet?” Red Sparrow’s voice came through the man’s earpiece as he ran down the hall.

“Negative” the man replied, out of breath. “Acquiring them has proved more difficult than I anticipated. Fortunately, though…” he paused to try to catch his breath “I have several...backup plans.”

“You better.” she snapped. “I’m not paying you all this money to screw this up. Understand?!”

“Completely,” he muttered in response.

…..

Tasha and Jason ran out under the portes-cochère of the hotel. Overhead the sky was still pitch black with visible stars dotting the night here and there. Two black SUVs with tinted windows were parked by the curb out front. The cars appeared unoccupied. By appearances, all the men had entered the hotel. One thing was for sure they weren’t sticking around. From behind the vehicles, a man suddenly appeared with a taser gun. Tasha and Jason ducked to the ground as he pulled the trigger. They walked crouched to the side of one of the cars and pressed against it. They quickly made their way around to the back of the SUV while the man walked around it as well. Every second felt like an eternity passing. The man appeared in front of him. Jason brought his fist square to the man’s face catching him off guard. He hit him repeatedly in the stomach and flipped him over. The man almost immediately regained his footing. Jason was still experiencing the effects of being tased earlier and could feel himself quickly losing strength. His opponent sensed this as well and punched Jason multiple times in the jaw and stomach, causing him to stumble to the ground. Tasha’s opened the trunk of the car, looking for anything useful. Inside she spotted a tire iron which she grabbed. Seeing the man’s back to her Tasha firmly gripped the tire iron and hit him as hard as she could across the head. The man fell forward to the ground, blood spewing from the gash across his head.

Jason stood up. “He’ll have a nasty headache tomorrow,” he commented as Tasha began to search the unconscious man’s pockets. Inside one of them, she found the keys to the SUV. “Got the keys.”

Tasha jumped in the driver’s seat while Jason climbed into the passenger seat beside her. She twisted the key in the ignition. The car rumbled to life. Tasha backed the car up and drove forward into the street. A shout from the entrance of The Chardell filled the air. Through the car windows, Tasha and Jason could see the rest of the men running outside and scrambling into the other SUV. Tasha spun the car on the asphalt and headed down a side road. She floored the accelerator. Cars beeped and honked. Dust filled the air as Jason and Tasha raced down the street, weaving through traffic. They could make out the car following them at full speed.

Tasha knew at higher speeds the risk of an accident astronomically increased. One could easily spin out of control or slam into another vehicle. However, that was a risk she had to take, she reasoned. She flattened the accelerator as much as she could. The reading on the speedometer went up with every passing moment. 80 mph. 90. 95. 100. The sound of guns firing filled the air. The rear window shattered, sending glass flying in every direction. Their pursuers, whoever they were, were getting desperate.

“Get down!” Tasha yelled. Jason and Tasha crouched down in their seats. More gunshots pierced the air. Glass rattled and flew every which way. On the floor. The dashboard. The leather seats. Toward their faces. Jason didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if they got caught.

…..

“What the heck are you doing?!” the man screamed. “We need them alive!”

“We are aiming for the tires! Besides you were the one going on about how we need to take them out fast!” one of the men responded as he fired his gun.

“Just hold the fire, we don’t need it!” he barked at them. He looked down at the clock located on the car dashboard. “It won’t be long now.”

…..

“What's our next step?!” Jason asked.

Tasha glanced at Jason. Panic gripped her eyes. “Try to get to a secure location. After that, I’ll try to contact Headman. He’ll either send a helicopter for us to an extraction point or try to come up with some rescue plan if we’re taken in. Though I can’t promise it’ll be successful.” Tasha looked back at the winding road ahead. “We knew the risks aft…” Tasha trailed off. Her mind felt suddenly clouded and a wave of sleepiness washed off her. She shook her head trying to shake it off. “After…after all.”

Jason put his hand on her shoulder. His eyes filled with worry and panic. “Tasha! Tasha, are you okay?!”

Tasha felt a pounding in her head and her vision blurred. She squinted her eyes desperately trying to see the road, but it was no use. A nauseous feeling came over her and she found it difficult to breathe. Every passing second she felt worse and worse.

“Jason…” Tasha struggled to speak. Jason was at a loss of what to do. They were caught in some hellish grave nightmare and there was no escaping. He pulled the pen out he had carried in his pocket. He knew they couldn’t afford for its information to be in the wrong hands. It was basic training. When facing imminent capture, discard any evidence. He quickly pressed down on the black button of the pen which was located below the two metal buttons. He held it down for five seconds. The seconds he counted down in his head. One by one the images it contained were permanently erased. Jason then glanced at Tasha. Desperation and pain were etched on her face. He could tell how hard she was trying to hold on yet she was failing.

“Here let me drive.” Jason sat up from his chair and started to move to the driver’s seat. Suddenly a wave of pain washed over him too, sending him back down. There was no mistake he’d been drugged as well. In his blurred vision, he could make out saw Tasha’s darkened form slump onto the steering wheel. Dear God…help us. He prayed as he slipped into unconsciousness.

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