#irving x little

[solomon-tozer]

Little Kisses: Irving x Little

He can't stroke John's hair back into place the way he used to. He can't run his fingers through it, see John's eyes flutter closed and hear the murmur that rises in him at the touch. He can't feel the warmth…

Instead, Edward pulls ruined skin back into place, trying to fix the ugly mess that's been made of him. He tugs John's clothing into place, smoothes away the creases, sets the crucifix right against his chest, and sees to all the proper preparations that need to be done.

And then there's nothing more, no way to say goodbye to someone he never thought he'd lose. In the end, all Edward can do is press a loving kiss to John's brow, and turn and walk away.

Previous little kisses / Request a little kiss

[lieutenant-catboy-little]

please enjoy my offerings for the p!atc server's valentines fest, now that i've finished all of them *checks watch* almost two months late :> monsterfucker ned featuring horsecock

some sweet nedving (and hodge!) qpr goodness

it's ned's turn with the costume trunk dress gender

trans ned finally gets what he deserves (well-fucked)

[lasplaga]

[ 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 ] + reverse because we ALL know Ric ain't threatening Saddler.

𓆙      —       𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 --- ALWAYS Accepting!

There was an abrupt, hoarse scream of irrefutable rage as Osmund's fingers clung to his shoulders, tight enough that any human's acromion & scapula would fracture. No care of the holy blessings that lay inside this vessel, he would be left bruised & repentant over his stubborn course. The Priest's eyes burned with sheer fury, illuminating the deterrent of Monarch's. 'I'm poisonousness', they cautioned. 'A deadly toxin, enough to kill all who defy me', warned the burnished amber glow. The Merchant of Death was given Enlightenment, & spoke vile blasphemies, denounced the will of God, & walked the path as a mortal human would, DESIRED weakness --- IT WAS AN ABOMINATION ! It could be witnessed & abided no longer!

" 𝔚𝔥𝔶 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔡𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔣𝔲𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔦𝔫?! " Effortless, as if Ricardo weighed as a doll, his puny form was lifted & slammed against the wall, HARD. What delivered him was the black blood which coursed through his veins, preserving his skull from shattering upon impact. A deeply pressed pin, a shake of his entire body, then another collision with his head & the surrounding stone dungeon. " 𝔜𝔬𝔲 --- 𝔄𝔄𝔄𝔊ℌ! "

No matter how long he would deny the mark of the covenant, it would liberate from the harm he inflicted, again & again --- An endless curse, knowingly or unintentionally imposed by the Impure King. There was no escaping the fanatical, crazed grasp of The Cult Leader, hands unyielding as an iron vice. The Businessman would fetch success by escape only in severing his limbs ; But was the cost of regeneration, DEFENSELESS, too much to bear? In the presence of a fellow host that was so infested, he was infamously regarded as a LIVING WEAPON?

A tremble accompanied, the seething elder overwhelmed by emotion, distraught with such blatant self-destruction. So much so, he regressed into using his mother tongue, desecrating any ounce of respect he had for him, as well as any Irving, living or dead. " ¡𝔓𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔫̃𝔬 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔞 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔡𝔬! ¡𝔐𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔤𝔬 𝔢𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔰 𝔥𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔬𝔰 𝔡𝔢 𝔱𝔲𝔰 𝔪𝔲𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔬𝔰! " If he failed to curse his bloodline in a hoarse cry, what WOULD have followed was a ruthless, bloody pummel. No end to the mindless haze until he slumped, nothing but a beaten paste. But as the growls subsided, so did the foul & filthy means of communication befitting of a Ganado.

The cure to loathing, insecurity, a crippling sense of failure was in reach, RIGHT NOW! Ricardo only needed to embrace the power, to be reborn in greatness! The answer nestled inside his chest, must he plunge a hand through his ribs & present the gift before his own two eyes?! After a few forced breathes to calm himself, before his temper would explode & result in a creature beyond containment, his hold loosened only by an inch, claws no longer digging into his muscle. The air of wrath lifted & bioluminescence dulled from his eyes, consolation that a unceremonious execution would not be committed in the depths of this castle. There was almost a semblance of pity or --- apology, as he withdrew from roaring, only a moment ago.

" --- 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯… 𝔦𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔣𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫, ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔰𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲. --- 𝔑𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯. "

[wild-houseplant]

Hello my wonderful and lovely friend!!! I come, as I am wont to do, with questions for splendidissima Rhodri from the OC Codex prompts:

2. a letter written by your OC’s family member

3. a report written by your OC’s teacher or mentor

4. a letter from your OC to their love interest

Now, I don't know if you will spend these days celebrating or not, but they seem to be busy days for anybody regardless. Please take as much time as you like and pick whichever tickle your fancy. And have some lovely, lovely days. Off I go!

OH HI HEY ! 8D 8D Good to see you and thank you for sending in the prompts!! I had such a great time with these, both of my braincells were working overtime and it was a joy!

Owing to spacing and the sheer volume of the answers I'm sticking all this under the cut. I'd apologise but we both know I don't mean it x) x) x)

so o o o 2. A letter written by your OC's family member Here's one from Rhod's younger brother, Owen. Heirs aren't allowed to have favourites, but suffice it to say she and Owen had easy and natural compatibility. He was nine-ish and Rhodri would've been twelve.

The paper is bleached, high-quality Tevinter vellum, bearing a template header in red ink, reading in Tevene rune script, EX SCRIBIO CALLISTANI SPIRI (“From the desk of Spiro Callistanus”). At the top right of the page, the date 13 Justinian, 9:22 Era Drakonis is added in the same wobbly runic script in the rest of the letter. The language of writing is Tevene.

I love you Sēvē,

My birthday was good but sad without you, and thank you for my greenhouse. Mazarin and Evander aren’t allowed inside because they break everything now. Bethann sits with me in there sometimes but not for long. 

School is hard but Tata says it gets easier with time. When you come back we can go together. I think that would make it better. Mazarin and Evander are too loud and they don’t sit with me any more. Do you know any plant spells? Please write all of them down so I can learn them when my magic comes. And please tell me your favourite three plants. Mine are ivy, snake kiss, and butterleaf.

Please write lots more soon.

And I love you, from Owen your brother.

-

Author's notes:

Callistanus- ‘of’ House Callistus, the name given to non-heir family members. An heir is the house, the non-heirs are the members of said house. ‘Callistani is Callistanus in genitive (possessive- I know you know this; clarifying for other potential readers) case. Owen's Tevene name is Spiro, Spiri in genitive form.

The Callistanus/Amell kids did not cope well with Rhodri being taken to the Circle. Not least because they were an arm’s length away when the Kirkwall Templars were beating her to a pulp.  Mazarin and Evander, who already tended to be loud and demanding, became destructive and disruptive, and both of them developed explosive tempers that proved hard to pacify.  Bethann, the youngest and most sensitive sibling, suffered frequent meltdowns that required many years to identify causes for and address.  Owen, the middle child, was always quiet and courteous. The adults in his life, amid attending to his louder, needier siblings, frequently ‘checked in’ on him, and they would have used all the resources they had to attend to any need he might have, but if he said he was doing fine (he always did), they left it at that and assumed he was content to keep to himself. Rhodri had always made a point of keeping him by her side and giving him plenty of one-on-one attention even if he was ‘fine,’ and he soaked that up like a sponge. After she was taken away, though, and the other siblings proved to be very squeaky wheels, there was nobody to fill the gap in those childhood to early teen years. Owen ended up rather neglected, and horribly lonely, and hid it, even lied about it, to everyone but Rhodri for years. Consequently, Owen tends to have a low opinion of himself, and is disinclined to seek out something, however badly he might want it. He does a lot better once Rhodri's back, and certainly once his folks found out (to their unrestricted horror) how neglected he had felt, they did their darnedest to make it up to him as well. But Rhod's return was really what cemented that improvement.

§

On to 3. a report written by your OC's teacher and mentor

I liked this question because I like the idea of there being a very specific, Chantry-determined format to a progress report, filled with formalities that ostensibly show some level of "civility" between the Templars and the mages. Plus, grading system? How do the mages measure success? So many questions!! Thank you for making me think of the answers!! -

The paper is bleached, blank vellum of middle to high quality, with the standard Circle progress report template already written in with black ink. Irving’s handwriting is a neat cursive that is no longer taught in the Circles. -

Date: 7 Eluviesta, 9:21 Dragon

Tutor name and rank: Irving, F.E.

Apprentice name; age; specialisation: Rhodri S. C. Amell// 10 y.o.// Arcane Magic

Progress report number, AYTD: 2

Presenting compliments to the Knight-Commander and having the honour to report:

Following the discovery of lyrium affliction in early Verimensis 9:22, Rhodri Amell has completed three months of compensatory meditation and distraction management training. Spellpower has improved significantly, as has spell duration (Max. 4; 10s per HS); mana inefficiency has also decreased (less est. 2.5, now 5.5). Continuation of the program recommended indefinitely.

Despite her progress, Rhodri’s temper outbursts are increasing in frequency during lessons proper. I reiterate to the Knight-Commander my suspicion that these arise from the elemental damage and consequent pain in her hands from unsafe proximity to trained mana, particularly as her affliction prevents her from wearing the requisite enchanted safety gloves. As per my last reports, I strongly recommend that my apprentice be permitted to use a sylvan branch staff to prevent more of the same; responding to outbursts with punishment has proved manifestly unhelpful and I continue to urge its cessation to the Knight-Commander with the greatest emphasis.

I note that Rhodri continues to tutor beginner students in her free time. E. Delilah has anecdotally mentioned better performance in this cohort in comparison to Delilah’s previous cohort, and has advised willingness to allow my apprentice to shadow her for some classes. With assistance in managing the change in schedule, I anticipate further progress for all concerned.

Reiterating assurances to the Knight-Commander of my highest consideration.

Irving, F.E. 

-

Author's notes on abbreviations and measurements - AYTD: Academic year to date - Spellpower scale is from 0 (not casting) to 10 (Destruction of a single room - HS- healing spell (in this case spell duration measures how long the intended effects persist until the spell is cut off or wears off on its own) - Mana inefficiency scale measures how much unformed mana escapes when a spell is cast, from 0 (no mana lost) to 10 (all, or almost all mana escaped). .

§

And 4: A letter from your OC to their love interest!

The author's notes are long so I'd better just get to it:

The paper is bleached, high-quality Tevinter vellum, bearing a template header in red ink, reading in Tevene rune script, EX SCRIBIO CALLISTI SEVERIN (“From the desk of Severin Callistus”). At the top right of the page, the date 11 Pluitanis, 9:35 Era Drakonis is written in sharp, austere letters, as is the rest of the content. The language of writing is Common, with the exception of the tercet, which is in Tevene.

Dulcis,

I pen this letter to you with all my love and, in adherence to the conditions set by your challenge:

I admit that I stand corrected: pickpocketing is very difficult and is not “something I could do as easily as blinking.” (I will say, however, that hiding grapes in the pocket you were keeping the coins was entirely unnecessary. It feels like those bastard Void fruits are hiding everywhere, now.)

With great embarrassment, I enclose a reproduction of the tercetus I so foolishly admitted to writing and frankly, my love, I am starting to think you organised this whole bet so you could get your hands on it.  . In vitae finite stabit Formator ton, et querisit "A Incredule, quemisi exultum mihim offerti?" Et respondit humilite, "Ton Zevran, Sanctus amade" .

I must say, my love, I’m enjoying writing to you even though you’re right beside me. I think I’d like to do this more often– though hopefully with fewer tercetae. Maybe I could hang short missives off your Friday flowers. What do you think?

Also, please let me know if you would like to go to the Sidereal Telescopium tomorrow. Quirina is giving a speech on the upcoming New Constellations Room, and I have many questions for them.

My whole heart to you,

Severin (Rhodri). -

Author’s notes:

Tercetus- a traditional Tevene-style three-line rhyming poem.

A rough translation: At the end of life I will stand before your Maker, and he will ask me "You, Unbeliever, tell me– what worship did you ever offer me?" And I will say, simply and earnestly, "Holy Immortal, I loved Your Zevran."

Rhod’s got a complicated religious life. She started okay; the family wasn’t especially pious but they did Chantry things at the frequency considered respectable. Once she landed in Kinloch Hold, though, her prevailing question, for which never received a satisfactory answer, was: “If the Maker can do anything, and He loves us, why does he let us suffer? I wouldn’t do that, and I’m a child, nto a god.” After Broken Circle, she refused to believe the Maker existed, as a consolation to herself, and to avoid the sort of vengeful blasphemy that gets you hung, drawn, and quartered. There’s something about Zevran’s patient faith, though, and his willingness to offer thanks that he has what he has, however miserable his life has been. It’s impressively staunch, and Rhodri admires that, and treasures the comfort it brings him, enough that she slowly comes around to her idea of a compromise. Said compromise is acknowledging that if the Maker exists, He is as capable at unleashing bitter cruelty as He is at creating boundless joy. Rhod’s not one to praise bad behaviour in anyone, let alone a god who should know better, but by golly He did everyone a good turn when He made Zevran. Maybe age will bring other wisdom, but for now, she lets her love for Zevran be her tentative worship, because it’s the only praise she can offer in earnest. Though idk, what better compliment is there for a creator than someone wholeheartedly adoring their creation?  I like to think it’s enough for the time being. A religious journey isn’t always straightforward but I always found that complications bring their own insights.

I have no idea why Rhodri signs off her letters to Zevvo as ‘Severin (Rhodri).’ They agreed early on never to use the Tevene name to avoid the ridiculousness that comes with similar-sounding names (it gets especially bad when the siblings give him the Tevene-ised nickname Zēvē when they’re already calling Rhodri Sēvē. Agony!) Same deal with Owen signing off letters to her as “Owen your brother”. Must be hereditary.

Also I'm not sure about how ok it is to use Artbreeder generated images what with the art theft things going around now (I'm not sure where it stands on that sort of thing) so I'll leave out the artbreeder portrait I have of Owen. For a face claim, though, this feller here is pretty close (though I grant you Simon Wood is unlikely to be 9yo in this gif). Token ginger of the Amell-Callistus brood, what's up!

[azzifudd]

always on my mind

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: Azzi has just finished dinner with her grandparents when the call comes. 

Azzi is confused because it’s barely been three hours since she said goodbye to Paige at the airport as their families drove them home on their return to the states from Argentina. 

They’d spent nearly the entire plane ride talking, even when Azzi had really wanted to nap, so Azzi can’t imagine what more Paige has to say to her, but she picks up anyway.

rated: teen

2.4k words

disclaimer: fictional!

[AO3 Link]

Paige Bueckers (USA Basketball) Facetime

Azzi has just finished dinner with her grandparents when the call comes.

Azzi is confused because it’s barely been three hours since she said goodbye to Paige at the airport as their families drove them home on their return to the states from Argentina.

They’d spent nearly the entire plane ride talking, even when Azzi had really wanted to nap, so Azzi can’t imagine what more Paige has to say to her, but she picks up anyway.

“Hello?”

“Azzi!” Paige’s face is too close to the screen and all Azzi can see is the bridge of her nose and one clear blue eye.

“Hi…” There’s a moment of silence as Paige just stares at Azzi. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, um, yeah!” Paige perks up like she’s suddenly remembering that she’s the one who made the call. “I’m gonna be playing some pick up with my guy Jalen tomorrow and I was wonderin’ if you’d wanna come.”

Azzi notices then that Paige seems almost nervous. In all the weeks they’d spent together playing basketball, Azzi doesn’t think she’d seen Paige unsure of herself for even a second, but the way her eyes keep darting back and forth betrays her.

For a moment, Azzi wants to say no. She’s exhausted from the tournament and the nearly full day of travel it took to get to her grandparent’s house in Minnesota.

But then Paige pulls the camera back from her face and Azzi sees a sweet, uncertain smile on Paige’s face, and she can’t bear to disappoint her.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Paige seems surprised, but then she gives a little cheer and smiles so wide that Azzi blushes under the strength of it. “Aight! Cool!”

“Cool!” They sit in silence for an awkward moment, glancing around until they make eye contact through the cameras and begin to giggle.

“Who’s that?” Azzi asks, when they settle down. She points at the screen past Paige to the wall behind her.

“It’s Kyrie, he’s my favorite player.” Paige tilts her phone, showing a wall filled with posters of different NBA players, but mostly of this particular one.

“Oh, who does he play for?” Azzi asks, though she has to admit she doesn’t actually care. For some reason, she just doesn’t want to hang up yet.

“You don’t know Kyrie Irving?!” Paige sounds almost offended at the thought.

“Not really,” Azzi replies, with a shrug. “I don’t watch a lot of NBA.”

“Bruh, I gotta educate you.” Paige settles back on her bed, pulling out her iPad and opening Youtube. “We’ll start with the 2016 Finals.”

They stay up talking until after midnight. Azzi still doesn’t know much about Kyrie Irving, but she learns a lot about Paige Bueckers, and it changes everything.

//

“Azzi! Dinner’s ready!” Katie calls from the kitchen. Azzi has been spending almost all her time, outside of school, training and practice, holed up in the basement doing God knows what lately. It’s not quite like her daughter, who usually spends most of her time messing around with her brothers or hanging onto her parents, but Katie figures that her oldest might finally be hitting that moody teenager phase that everyone warned her about.

She scoops some stir fry into her bowl, joining her husband and sons who are already at the table. When another few minutes passes and Azzi still doesn’t show up, she goes to the door, yelling down the stairs.

“If you don’t get up here in the next thirty seconds, no phone for the rest of the night!”

Within seconds she hears feet clomping up the stairs.

“Mom! Okay! I’m coming!”

Azzi finally appears, giving her mom an annoyed look before brushing past her and serving herself a plate of dinner.

When she finally sits down at the table, she props her phone up on the table so it’s facing her. They can all hear some sounds coming from it.

“Azzi Fudd, I know you aren’t watching a video while we’re eating dinner.” It’s so unlike her to be so rude.

“Uhh, hey Mrs. Fudd. Mr. Fudd.” Paige Bueckers smiles sheepishly at her and waves through the screen.

“Oh, Paige.” Katie knows that Azzi and Paige had been keeping in touch since the summer. “You know you can call us Katie and Tim, sweetie.”

“Azzi’s going to have to put her phone away for dinner. She can call you back after dinner, alright?”

“Moooom.” Azzi whines, clearly embarrassed.

“I’ll talk to you later, Azzi.”

“Okay,” Azzi huffs. “Bye Paige.” Katie isn’t sure if she imagines it, but there’s something soft in the way her daughter says Paige’s name.

They hang up, and Azzi begins immediately shoveling food into her mouth.

“Azzi, slow down. Paige is still going to be there, but you won’t be if you choke because you aren’t chewing.”

Azzi scowls but she does slow down, chewing deliberately in her parents’ direction. When her bowl is empty, she reaches for her phone.

“May I be excused, please?”

“Not yet.”

“Ugh,” Azzi scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“Enough with the attitude, or did you not want one of your birthday presents early?”

Katie smirks as Azzi’s eyes bulge with excitement.

“I’m sorry!” Azzi bounces excitedly in her seat. “I’ll stop with the attitude, I promise.”

“Alright, we believe you, “ Tim says. “Well, we were talking to Paige’s parents the other day…” He lets the sentence linger, laughing when Azzi grows visibly annoyed.

“Dad!” She growls as her brothers mock her.

“Alright, alright. We were talking to them, and they agreed to let Paige come stay for the weekend for your sweet sixteen.”

Azzi barely lets him finish his sentence before she’s out of her seat, squealing with joy and giving her dad a big hug.

“Thank you! Thank you!” She throws herself into her mom’s lap, and though Azzi has been taller than her for about a year at this point, Katie still relishes every time her daughter lets her hold her this close.

“Does she know?! Can I tell her?” Azzi reaches for her phone, opening Facetime, and Katie can see her call log. The name Paige💗 fills the entire screen, non stop calls that must span the months since they had returned home from Minnesota.

“Go ahead.” Azzi leaps up, and they can hear the sound of barely half a dial tone before the call is answered.

Almost immediately, there’s a lot of chattering, then a lot of excited screaming. Katie shares a knowing look with her husband as their daughter talks excitedly with her best friend.

Azzi has never had a shortage of friends, but it’s becoming more and more clear that her relationship with Paige is something different, something special.

//

Jazmine is not sure what to think of Paige Bueckers. She knows what everyone else says about her, that she might be the best player to ever wear a UConn jersey, and that she uses that to chat up every attractive woman on campus.

But as they work on their research project, Jazmine isn’t sure she sees this supposed player that everyone talks about.

Paige is charming, yes, and very friendly, but there’s something guarded in her demeanor, like she’s always keeping part of herself locked away.

She is cute though, Jazmine can’t deny that, and fun to flirt with as they make progress on their presentation.

They’re about to wrap up for the night when Paige’s phone vibrates from where it is face down on the table. Paige picks it up, and Jazmine watches as her entire being seems to bloom at what she sees on the screen.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” Paige pops a headphone in, stepping out of the study room they’ve been working in. Jazmine watches through the glass as she holds the phone up to her face, speaking with whoever is on the other side.

Her face is soft, and the smile that lights up her face is so different from the near smirk that Jazmine has seen directed at everyone else. She only spends a few minutes on that Facetime, but even in that short amount of time, Jazmine can see the way her entire body language has changed. She barely knows this girl, and she can see it.

Paige hangs up, coming back into the room with another apology.

“No worries.” Jazmine shrugs. “Your girlfriend?”

All the blood in her body seems to rush to Paige’s face.

“Oh, um, nah.” She stammers. “It was just Azzi.”

Everything clicks into place. Azzi Fudd, Paige’s best friend, and partner in crime. Azzi doesn’t even go to UConn, though she has visited a few times, and yet she’s probably heard just as many rumors about their relationship as she has about Paige herself, and despite Paige’s denial, Jazmine knows what she saw.

She doesn’t know if Azzi is Paige’s girlfriend, her best friend, both, or neither. But she does know that Paige loves that girl. And anyone who had seen what she had seen, how Paige’s entire being lit up at the mere thought of Azzi, would know it.

//

Paige doesn’t hear the sound of the call over the pounding of her dribble and the squeak of her shoes. In fact, she only realizes her phone is vibrating because it interrupts her music.

It’s past midnight, and Paige knows there’s only one person who could be calling her. The only person she would answer for, at any time of day or night.

💗 Facetime

She swipes to accept the Facetime, sitting on the floor against the wall. With a boop, the call opens to show her best friend, clearly dressed for bed and frowning disapprovingly at Paige through the screen.

“I knew it. Why are you still at the gym?”

Azzi disappears for a moment as she turns off her bedroom light, but soon her face is visible again by the light of the screen and as she lays down in bed with the phone propped up close to her face.

“Can’t sleep.” Paige shrugs, it’s the truth, even if it’s the simple version of it.

“You wanna talk about it?” Azzi always wants to talk, and there’s little that Paige likes to do more than listen to her, but she still has trouble doing the talking herself sometimes.

“Tomorrow, okay? You should sleep anyways, I know you had a tough game tonight.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, but Paige can see the day weighing on her, the way her eyelids look heavy and eyebags darken the skin beneath her eyes.

“Fine, but you have to promise you’ll go back to your apartment after this.” Azzi buries her face into her pillow.

“Promise. After a few more shots.”

“You need to take care of yourself.” Azzi’s voice is drowsy, and Paige watches as her eyelids flutter as she begins to struggle to stay awake. “At least until…”

Her voice faded away as her eyes slipped closed. Paige leans in close, desperate to hear the end of that sentence.”

“‘Til what, Azzi?” She whispers. On one hand, she wants to hear what the other girl was going to say. On the other hand, it’s late and she knows how important it is for Azzi to get enough rest.

Luckily, Azzi’s eyes open and meet Paige’s, soft and so deep she feels like she could drown in them.

“Until I’m there to take care of you.” She says it so casually, so matter of fact. It steals the breath from Paige’s lungs.

She’s taken care of herself for a long time, and she’s always been proud of that. It wasn’t until she met Azzi that she let herself even open up to someone else, and she never thought that she would ever want someone to take care of her.

But it hadn’t even been a choice with Azzi. Before she had realized it, the other girl had wormed her way into Paige’s mind, her heart.

She thinks about the last time she had seen Azzi in person, the morning she had left Azzi’s house to head back to her dad’s to move to UConn. She’d woken her up, way too early, and nearly cried thinking about how much she would miss seeing Azzi’s grumpy face every morning.

She’d almost said it then. Those three words. Cocooned in a pile of warm blankets before the sun had even risen, Paige could pretend that they weren’t about to be separated for who knows how many months. She could pretend that this wouldn’t be the biggest test their relationship would face yet.

She had wished that she could have just stayed there, with the girl she liked, safe from the rest of the world. But the world didn’t work that way, and she’d left Azzi behind with a promise that they would always be truthful with one another, and that they would always be best friends, no matter what else happened between them.

It’s a promise Paige knows she will be able to keep. She can’t imagine a force on this earth that could keep her from Azzi, and she knows Azzi feels the same about her.

When Paige finally focuses back on the call, she sees Azzi asleep, with the camera still on her. She packs up her stuff, and takes the short walk back to her dorm with nothing but the sound of the crickets and Azzi’s soft breaths keeping her company.

By the time she finally slips into bed, it’s past 1AM and Azzi is deeply asleep on the other line. But Paige doesn’t hang up. She plugs in her phone and leans it against a pillow.

As she looks at Azzi’s peaceful face, she feels it swelling within her. That same urge from months ago to just say it. This time, secure in the knowledge that Azzi won’t hear it, she opens her mouth to say it.

But just at that moment, the wifi lags and the call drops. She stares at her home screen, a photo of her and Azzi from the past summer, her hair a patchy purple as she pouts at the camera. Azzi is beside her, beaming at her with that squinty eyed, dimpled smile that Paige knows is her Paige smile.

She flops to lay on her back. Maybe it was destiny that she hadn’t been able to say it. Because Azzi deserves to hear it from her mouth for the first time. And Paige deserves to get to say it to her, to get to see her face light up, and then to, hopefully, hear it back.

[ravenromanova]

First christmas

Parings: Bucky x Female reader

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT! Breeding kink, Daddy kink, SLight metal finger kink, Bucky wanting to get the reader pregnant, Soft Bucky. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18++!!!

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~ “Babygirl where are we going?” Bucky asked as you covered his eyes and walked him downstairs into the living room of the compound giggling like a child.

“You’ll see in a second just be patient” You giggled and playfully smacked his head earning an ‘ow’ from the super solider. “Okay now open” You quickly removed your hands and stood in front of him. You stood in front of him and dramatically flailed your arms to bring attention to what you set up.

He opened his eyes and scanned with living room with an unreadable expression. “What’s all this?” Bucky questioned as he took in the undecorated christmas tree, all of the ornaments and decorations scattered around the floor. He was a little confused as to why it looked like santa threw up in the living room but intrigued nonetheless.

“It’s our first christmas together so i thought we could decorate! It’s normally Nat’s thing but i convinced her to let us do it this year” The smile that adorned your face nearly brought him to his knees. “And it’s also your first christmas since you got deprogrammed so it’s even more special.” You continued as you grabbed his hand and gave him some decorations. He smiled and felt his face heat up and your words.

“You’re adorable. And i love it” He chided with an equally as big smile on his face. Buckys heart swelled seeing how excited you were to decorate with him. He wasn’t one for holidays especially when he was in Hydra for obvious reasons. But right there in that moment with you he felt like a little boy again waiting for santa on christmas eve.

The two of you quickly fell into a nice rhythm as you decorated while listening to older christmas music. Buckys eyebrows shot up in curiosity as he saw you hold a pink unicorn ornament and put it on the tree.

“When did you get that?” He asked coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as you hung it on the tree. He was quick to notice how it resembled the stuffed unicorn he won for you on your first date to coney island.

“I got it a few months ago. Me and Nat were out shopping and i saw it in one of the small little christmas shops and bought it immediately” You smiled looking at the unicorn on the tree. Bucky smiled and then kissed you softly before he helped you finish the decorating.

About an hour went by before the you two were finished with the tree and the decorations for the living room. So after all the hardwork you two did you decided to make some hot chocolate for you and him. You smiled and danced along to the music as you made them and then sat back down on the couch and handed it to him.

“Thank you doll” Bucky smiled when you handed him the warm drink and sat next to him. “I had fun decorating with you” His confession made your heart swell and another smile cross your face.

“Good im glad” You smiled up at him and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek causing him to blush. “Maybe i can convince Nat to let us decorate more often” You said seriously and then looked at each other and started laughing knowing damn well she wouldn’t.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you drank your hot chocolate and laid on the couch together peacefully. That was until Bucky suddenly got up and held out his hand for you to take. Your brows furrowed in confusion at your boyfriend’s actions making him smile.

“Dance with me” He said in a husky tone as he waited for you to take his hand. “I wanna dance with you under all the lights” His words almost made you cry as you nodded and took his hand. He was quick to pull you into his body and hold you close as the two of you danced.

The two of you danced peacefully to “White christmas” by Irving Berlin with big smiles on both of your faces. Buckys heart warmed at the moment. His best girl, his favorite holiday and his favorite christmas song. Honestly how could this get any better he thought. But soon the moment got even better when you tapped his cheek to get his attention. When he looked down at you and you had your finger pointed to the ceiling, slowly he looked up and smiled at the mistletoe over your heads.

“Is there something you want babydoll?” Bucky asked cheekily with a smug smile on his face.

“You know exactly what i want Barnes” The words were just as mischievous as the smile on your face. And within seconds you grabbed his face and pulled him into a heated kiss. Bucky was quick to place his hands on your hips and bring you in closer to him.

“I need you baby” You said barely above a whisper with a slight pout on your face. He then moved his metal hand from your hip to your cheek and slowly caressed it.

“Then you have me babygirl” His voice was smooth and soft as he spoke which made you weak in the knees. He slowly guided you over to the couch and sat down before he had you sit on his lap.

“Such a pretty doll” He praised running his hands up and down your back. The way he looked at you and spoke to you made you a puddle in his lap.

Bucky was quick to bring you in for another kiss but this time it was much softer and sweeter than the one before. It was almost as if he was scared of breaking you which again almost made you a puddle.

“You don’t have to be so gentle” You were the first one to break the kiss since air was needed.

“Mm but i do. You’re just a little doll. Precious even. I need to be gentle and take my time with you” His words caused a shiver to run down your spine.

“Fuck take me to your room” Bucky was quick to oblige and picked you up before he led you two to his room.

Once he made it to his room he kicked the door open before gently placing you on his bad and then shut the door. He took a second to admire you laying on his bed. Sure the two of you have had sex before but for some reason this time felt different. While he loves fucking you hard and making you scream he also loves taking his time with his precious girl.

“I need you baby” You beg sitting up on your knees and beckoning him over to you. He quickly walked over to you from the door and grasped your chin in his metal hand lightly.

“You have me babydoll” He cooed in your ear as he began to kiss your neck making you shiver. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him on top of you causing you to lay against his pillows.

Bucky nipped and sucked dark marks onto your neck making sure to mark you as his. “Fuck Jamie please” You begged the solider grabbing the hem of his shirt attempting to take it off.

“Patience babydoll patience. I wanna make my girl feel good. I haven’t tasted you in a while baby” Bucky replied gently rubbing his hands up and down your exposed thighs. You released a pathetic whimper at his words that made him smile.

And before you could even process what what happening Bucky tore your clothes off and left them in a pile on the floor. You went to protest him ripping off your bra and underwear but it was already too late for that. Bucky took a moment to appreciate how beautiful you looked laying under him. It doesn’t matter how many times he sees you like it. Every time makes his heart swell and his cock stir in his jeans.

“Such a pretty doll” He praised running his hands over your soft and warm skin. You sucked in a breath when you felt his metal hand tweak one of your nipples and pull slightly.

“Oh fuck” The words spilled passed your lips in the form of a sinful moan. “Please daddy i need you so bad” You continued to beg and finally got his shirt off.

“Okay okay” He chuckles and makes his way in between your thighs. Bucky takes a second to admire how wet you are for him, all spread out and glistening with your own juices. “My pretty baby” He praised again before licking your clit to tease you.

“Oh J-Jamie” You moaned back arching off the bed as Bucky dived into your pussy. He spread your lips with his metal fingers and wrapped his lops around your little bundle of nerves. The way he sucked on you was making your mind go fuzzy and you r orgasm build.

On the flip side Bucky was trying to control his urge to dry hump the mattress as he ate you out. He was so lost in the way you tasted and the you were moaning for him. Bucky ate you out like a man starved alternating between licking and sucking your clit which in turn was leaving you a babbling mess.

“I-I’m gonna cum” You practically scream out clawing at his back as you feel your orgasm wash over you. The feeling was so intense you didn’t even realize that he put two of his flesh fingers in you.

“Give me one more before i breed you” He demanded and you involuntarily clench around his fingers as he hits your g-spot. You threw your head back against the pillows and arched your back when he curled his fingers in you. He was soft yet going hard enough to make you mewl around his fingers.

“Oh baby- i-im gonna cum again” Bucky smiled at your words and picked up the pace a little making sure to hit all the right spots. He kept thrusting into you making you cry out in pleasure as you feel your second orgasm build up and crash over you. And just like before you were so blissed out to even notice that you squirted all over his stomach and fingers.

“What a good girl” Bucky smiled pulling his fingers out of you and then licking them clean with a deep guttural moan. “So sweet too” He smiled and came back up to your face and brought you in for a sweet kiss.

You kissed him back with the same passion while you tried to take off his pants but failed to which he laughed. “Here let me babygirl” He chuckled and swiftly removed his jeans and boxers leaving him bare in front of you. Luckily for you Bucky was so hard to the point that he didn’t spend anytime teasing you. He gave himself a few tugs to get him even harder before he lined his head up with your entrance.

“You ready bub?” He asked bringing one of his hands up to your cheek and rubbed it gently. All you could do in that moment was nod enthusiastically. He slowly inched himself into you causing you to suck in a breath at the stretch. He started thrusting into you slowly being careful not to hurt his precious doll.

“Ugh you feel so fucking good baby” Bucky grunted in your ear slowly picking up his pace. Your hands flew to his shoulders and you held him closer.

“God youre so good daddy” You moaned into his ear as he thrusted into you a little harder. You could feel your muscles tighten around his cock essentially choking his cock.

“Gonna fill you up pretty girl.. gonna make you a mommy” His words threw you over the edge and into your now third orgasm.

“Please please breed me daddy” You begged breathlessly mewling at every thrust. “Wanna be a mommy PLEASE!” You screamed when he started to thrust into you harder clearly chasing his own high.

“Fuck baby. Fucking take it like the good girl you are. Take it all baby” He grunted as he felt his balls tighten. “FUCKFUCKFUCK!” It didn’t take much longer for him to fully spill his seed into you and fucking it back into you to endure youll get pregnant. Once he finished filling you he slowly pulled out and then laid by your side attempting to catch his breath.

“Did you mean it?” You asked rolling over on your side and then laying in his chest. “Do you really wanna have kids with me?” The question came out a little bit more insecure than you wanted but oh well.

“Of course i do baby. I want nothing more than to start a family with you doll” He said happily as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead and then wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Do you think I’ll get pregnant from this time?” Bucky chuckled at your question which made you furrow your brows in confusion.

“If it didn’t then we will keep going til you do babydoll” He kissed you again and you never felt more loved or happy in that moment.

The rest of the night was spent giving each other sweet kisses and Bucky showing you just how much he wanted a family with you.

And nine months later you welcomed your adorable daughter Lilith mae rose barnes to the world.

~The end~

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 8

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: Here we go. Diving into Nicaragua, and beyond…

Song Inspo: “Who’s Crying Now” by Journey

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Violence, implied torture, heavy angst (and a twist ending).

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Part 8: For Whom the Bell Tolls

March 1984

When you got into Payback, you didn’t sign up to be part of a war. You knew you weren’t a soldier, and frankly, the rest of you had no business being here either. This was a CIA base, being run by a no-nonsense officer, Grace Mallory. You had no intention of getting in her way.

Nicaragua was hot and surrounded by jungle, not exactly conducive to a leather suit. You kept to the shade by yourself and watched Swatto, Ben, and Gunpowder makes fools of themselves after Grace tore them a new one. You respected anyone who could go toe-to-toe with Ben without even flinching, especially as a non-supe.

Then again, he had poured on his usual “charm.”

“You know, with a figure like yours, you are wasted down here,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. Grace didn't even give him the time of day. Stan chimed in, presumably to explain Vought’s apparent “partnership” with the U.S. military for this mission. Ben walked away from her, barely glancing in your direction along the way.

That suited you just fine. Things had been frosty between you two for the past month, but as long as you stayed out of his way, he didn’t butt into yours.

Days later, you wanted nothing more than to go home. Sleeping in a tent was not your bag, and especially not using the restroom outdoors. Would it be considered desertion if you booked a flight home right now?

You escaped your tent with a huff, swatting mosquitos as you went. You’d tried to take an afternoon nap, but who could sleep in this heat?

“Not exactly a luxury suite, is it?” Black Noir said. You jolted, realizing he was standing just a few feet away without his mask on. It was refreshing to see his face, but you were still a bit sour toward him.

“Oh, you’re talking to me now?” you said dryly. You began walking toward the mess tent. Noir joined you.

“Well, it looks like you’re done playing your little game,” he said, raising his brows meaningfully at Soldier Boy. He seemed to be trying to chat up Mallory again.

Good fucking luck there, you thought. She already looked bored.

You turned to Noir with a flat look.

“We’re all playing a game, Irving. Just at different levels,” you said. “For example, what were you talking to Stan about?”

You’d seen them a couple of hours ago, hidden behind a fortified stone wall. Noir stopped walking. You were curious enough to follow suit.

“Something that could change everything for all of us,” he said. “You included.”

Your brows knitted together. “What’re you—”

Shots rang out in the clearing. Noir covered you when a grenade blasted the ground just a few feet away from you.

"You okay?" he asked in concern. You nodded shakily. He steadied you with a reassuring hold on your arms.

“Come on!” he said.

“What’s happening?” you exclaimed over the noise. You were terrified, and you definitely weren’t trained for this.

You let Noir lead you through the camp. When men in faded green uniforms came at you with guns, he took most of them out. You managed to duck under a man’s gun and touch his face, compelling him to sleep.

“There you are!” said Countess. She had the TNT Twins and Mindstorm in tow. For once, you were relieved to see them.

Finally you made it into a clearing where Ben was fighting with his shield at the ready. He punched out another enemy soldier who fell to the ground. He turned to see you, and then the others in your team beginning to surround him. You frowned in confusion and looked at Noir.

“What’re you doing?” you asked in worry. He glanced at you, but didn’t answer.

“What the fuck is this?!” Ben said angrily.

“Something we should’ve done a long time ago, you piece of shit,” Noir said, his tone icy and determined.

The TNT Twins attacked first. It managed to knock Ben to the ground. You were frozen in shock when Countess and Mindstorm joined in, along with Noir.

“Stop!” you said, but no one heard you. What the fuck is happening?!

They had Ben going for a minute, as their triple teaming managed to keep him on the ground…just not for long. With a grunt, he shoved them all away with a show of strength.

“Sirena!” Noir finally called to you, his gaze imploring you to help them. 

“No, stop!” you shouted back. You couldn’t watch this fight happen again. Because this time, Ben would kill him. He’d kill all of them.

You headed for Ben and Noir, but a gloved hand stopped you. It grabbed your wrist and turned you around, right into Countess’s waiting fist. You cried out and stumbled, but you found purchase on one of the stone walls. Before you could recover, she grabbed your shoulders and kneed you hard in the stomach.

Shit… You tasted blood when you went down, heaving for breath. She packed one hell of a punch in those little gloved fists.

“Been waiting for this, bitch,” she hissed from above you.

The second she got close enough, you grabbed her by her long hair and punched her as hard as you could in that fake-ass nose. Then you kicked out with both feet into her stomach. She doubled over and fell back on her ass.

You managed to roll and stumble onto your feet. You glanced over quick and saw that Ben was beating Noir within an inch of his life.

“Ben!” you shouted, wanting to stop him, but that was when Mindstorm stepped in front of you. His eyes met yours, and it became a battle of wills as he tried to shove you deep into the darkness of your inner world.

You could play mind games too though. You fought his hold, with every scrap of your consciousness, and you even managed to take a few steps forward. If you touched him, it would be over. As a man, he wouldn’t be able to withstand your own powers.

And your plan might’ve worked, if Countess hadn’t walloped you hard from behind.

When you woke, the bare room was bright with florescent lighting and cold beyond belief. You shuddered. You were no longer wearing your supe suit. Instead, you’d been dressed in some kind of gray hospital gown and a pair of woolly socks, stripped of even your boots. At least you still had underwear.

You uncurled yourself from the thin cot you were laying on. The room held little more than a prison cot, a toilet, and a sink. You let out a shaky breath.

Where the hell…

You got up slowly, mindful of your aches and pains throughout your body. The back of your head was throbbing too, courtesy of Countess, you slowly remembered.

That fucking bitch.

There was a door with a small glass windowpane. You tried to twist the handle, but of course it wouldn’t budge. You peered out of the window and saw a long hallway. There was a door just like yours on the opposite side with a small window.

“H-Hey!” you shouted. “Is anyone there? Hello?!”

A moment later, you heard Ben say your name, calling out to you. He sounded angry, but you were close enough to sense his relief at hearing your voice. You were relieved to hear him too, at least.

“Ben!” you said, as tears sparked in your eyes. “Where the hell are we?”

“The Russians got us,” he said, though it was heavily muffled through his door and yours.

Oh shit…

“After those cocksuckers fucking betrayed me!” he shouted. You heard a banging sound, like his fist meeting the wall.

“Did you know?” he asked in anger.

“What?” you said incredulously.

“Did you fucking know what they were planning?”

You were shocked, both at his audacity, and at the way he really thought you could do that to him. To anyone.

“How can you ask me that,” you said tremulously, “when I’m the only one who tried to fucking help you?”

It finally hit you then, where you were and why this was happening. You laughed without humor, wiping manic tears from your cheeks in vain.

“Well, look where that got me,” you said. You shook your head. “God, I wish I’d never met you.”

You almost wished you could see his face. He would probably try to be stoic, but even through the walls, you sensed the discordant impact of your words. It affected him, more than he’d probably ever show.  

“You’re saying this is my fucking fault?!” he said sharply.

“Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!” you spat. 

That fell heavily between you. You didn’t regret it. It was high time this man knew the truth, about everything.

No more games.

“Oh, really. You included, huh?” Ben said. “I didn’t do shit to you.”

You gaped. “You shoved me to ground! I had bruises for days. Or did you conveniently forget that part?”

“You got in the fucking way!” he retorted. But then, he simmered down slightly. “Besides, you know you weren’t the one I was aiming for.”

And that just reminded you of Black Noir, with no small measure of guilt, and just how badly Ben had beaten him before you two were captured. You didn’t doubt that Ben had killed him.

“But you still did it, and you couldn’t even look me in the eye and apologize, like a man,” you said. “Instead, you fucked a pack of whores.”

You shook your head and tried to calm your breathing. You wiped under your eyes.

“But I guess I did bring it on myself. I knew what you were the second I met you,” you said coldly. “In fact, the only thing I really wanted from you was what you could do for my career.”

That blow landed as well. You felt his shock, deep inside.

“Is that so?” he said, less angry then. More resigned. “It was all an act, huh?”

New tears burned in your eyes. They slid down your cheeks, one by one.

“Yeah, it was,” you said. “I fucking hope I never have to see your face again.”

With a shaky breath, you turned your back to the door and leaned against it. You ignored the painful lance in your heart that threatened to overtake you, along with your panic.

For a while, there was silence. It gave you a reprieve, but it also forced you to be alone with the tumultuous thoughts circling in your head.

Suddenly, the door opened. You backed up all the way to the far wall. In stepped a man in a gray lab coat, as well as two armed guards. One of them was holding a straitjacket.

“Good morning,” said the lab coat. His English was heavily accented. “Welcome to your new home.”

“Who are you?” You tried to sound firm and unshaken, but there was no mistaking your fear as your eyes darted from man to man.

“Eisenstein Sergei. I am a geneticist, by trade,” he said. He gestured at you with a smile that made your skin crawl. “You, beautiful one. You will be part of evolution.”

“Stay the fuck away from me,” you said, even as your voice trembled.

Eisenstein gestured at the guards, who drew near you. The second you opened your mouth to sing, to scramble their minds, one of them produced an extendable stick with an electric prod on the end. He tased you until you passed out onto the floor.

As you soon discovered, Dr. Sergei Eisenstein was fascinated by supes. He wanted to figure out how they ticked, on a molecular level. So he and his team had made a deal with Vought to acquire Soldier Boy for experimentation. You were an added bonus.

For months, the doctor and his team poked and prodded, cut and burned you, testing the limitations of your advanced healing and pushing your body often far beyond its capabilities.

But they were careful. The straitjacket ensured you couldn’t easily compel any man who drew near to work on you. They all wore gloves, so they didn’t touch your skin. In some ways, their wariness was to your benefit. You were always gagged when they worked on you though, so you couldn’t sing. Eisenstein also once threatened to paralyze your vocal cords if you tried. You were too afraid to tempt him.

As rough as you had it, you were sure it was only scratching the surface of what they did to Ben.

The man was stronger, more durable. The doctor had more leeway to play with him, knowing his toy wouldn’t break.

They now kept him on the other end of the compound, since he’d broken through his first containment unit. They had gassed him with something that made him drop like a stone, putting him to sleep. You weren’t sure what was powerful enough to do it, but you didn’t want to find out.

The first time you heard him screaming, it brought tears stinging in your eyes. Your lips had trembled, and you’d rocked yourself in your cot. You couldn’t help him, let alone yourself. You were surprised to realize that you wanted to help him, even after everything he did to you—after everything you’d seen him do.

It slowly made you realize the truth in your own heart; things you hadn’t wanted to take out and examine, like muddy glass after a storm. Now, with the debris washed away, you could see what you had become, and what all your work, your scraping, your lies and manipulations had gotten you.

Nothing.

It also made you realize that you weren’t as good of a liar as you thought you were. At least, not to yourself. Not when you remembered the quiet moments between you and Ben; the times you wordlessly craved each other’s company, and you laid tucked against his side on the couch with a book while he watched a football game. Or late at night, the times when you gave into sharing a bed with him, and he stared up at the ceiling with a blunt in hand, the two of you lying naked and talking about everything and nothing until you feel asleep.  

Yes, you remembered blood and violence, callousness and cruelty toward Noir and the rest of the team. You knew that was who Soldier Boy was. That was Ben.

It was just hard to reconcile that monster with the man you’d come to know. The man who actually tried to comfort you, even though you hadn’t wanted to be comforted after that accident with a Crimson Countess fan. The man who saved you after you were beaten by a thug, and nearly worse. The man who could be funny, and charming, with hints of gentleness and affection in between.

You supposed you would never know what part of him was real.

But most of all, you remembered the things you’d said to him. You surprised yourself by feeling pinprick needles of guilt up and down your spine.

“I hope I never have to see your face again.”

 You had a feeling that you’d get your wish.

It was six months in before Eisenstein experimented with the first serum. You vomited blood.

It took his team three more years to revise. 

You started to hear voices in your head, snippets of thought instead of just sensing energies. You lied to the scientists, keeping the knowledge to yourself. They had no way to know, so why give them more ammunition against you?

The thoughts you heard were always male, whoever was in close proximity. Your powers seemed to translate them into English, but you almost preferred it to be gibberish. Mostly the thoughts were bland, disgusting, or cold and frightening in their scientific detachment, and even their entertainment…mostly when they worked on Ben. 

It made you sick. You wished you could reach out to him, if just for someone familiar to talk to. You hadn’t learned how to do that just yet. You didn’t even know if you could. You were still figuring out how to just tune it all out when you were sick of the chatter.

Regardless, they kept him too far away, so you rarely heard his thoughts. When you did, they were mostly angry and murderous. You couldn’t blame him. 

Sometimes, just being able to feel his presence, hearing the scraps of his thoughts was enough.

You were left entirely alone with your own.

April 3, 1994

You read the date on the magazine they’d brought for you with bland porridge for breakfast. The publication was in Russian, but you’d begun to pick up on certain words they said, and on the structure of numbers you saw them scribble in their notes. 

Ten years. You really couldn’t fathom it. It didn’t feel real…

Well, actually, it did today. You were almost done with the porridge when the doctor and three guards came in, one with your usual straitjacket.

“Finished then?” Eisenstein asked, nodding at your near empty bowl. “Good. Get her up.”

The command was in Russian, but by now you understood it. You still struggled. You always did. It was no use though. Soon they had you fitted in the jacket and a gag tight around your mouth, with just a couple of cattle prod stings to your side.

They dragged you down the hall farther than usual. You were confused when they passed the usual lab they so often took you to. Instead, Eisenstein opened a metal door.

Inside the room was Ben, strapped to a metal slab against the wall. He was bound in every way, and fully naked. He also had a long, unkempt beard, but you’d recognize that face even in your sleep. Your eyes widened when you met his, your breath caught in your throat. His face slackened in surprise as well.

You hadn’t seen him since before the beginning of the nightmare.

He’d barely aged at all.

The spell of it broke when you were slammed down onto a cold, shiny table. It felt hard as titanium, and you cried out at the impact.

You managed to raise your head. “Ben!”

It was muffled through the gag, but you knew he understood you. His brows furrowed. He looked up at Eisenstein in a glare.

“What the fuck is this?”

The doctor held a glass syringe in his gloved hand. He drew closer to you with slow, measured steps.

“You have impenetrable skin, yes? Hard, like a diamond,” he said to Ben. “Even inside your holes, it is…perhaps more sensitive, but still strong enough to stop further experimentation.”

Ben’s lip curled with a sneer.

“But there must be a way to get inside you,” Eisenstein said. He grabbed the back of your neck tightly, making you whimper. He held up the syringe. “Tell me now, or I will give her the serum we had prepared for you. There is good chance it may…let’s say, liquify her insides, but we will have to see. Won’t we?”

He gestured at one of the guards, who tore open the back of your gray gown to expose your back and shoulders. You screamed around the gag and struggled, even with the men holding you down. You fought Eisenstein’s grip to look up at Ben. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hard and angry.

You had tears in your eyes; they already began to slip down your cheeks. You implored him wordlessly. Ben stared back at you through furrowed brows.

Getting nothing but silence, Eisenstein sighed through his nose, and he turned to you with the syringe.

“Hold her steady.”

You struggled and thrashed in vain.

“Wait!” Ben said, through clenched teeth.

Everyone in the room paused.

Ben lifted his gaze from you and directed it at the doctor.

“My eye,” he said lowly. “Inject it in the corner of my eye.”

Eisenstein’s weathered face broke into a smile. “Ah, clever. Thank you, Soldier Boy.”

Then he pressed the needle into your shoulder, emptying its contents into your bloodstream. You uttered a pained sound at the needle going in. Again, you looked up at Ben in panic.

He tensed in an incredulous anger. “What—”

“Do not worry. It’s just a sedative,” Eisenstein shrugged.

Within seconds, you breathed out a whimper as your eyes closed on you. You went limp. The guards peeled you off the table and dragged you out of the room. It left the doctor with his favorite patient.

Ben wanted to rip the man’s arm from his socket and beat him to death with it. And that was just the latest fantasy on how he’d take the good doctor apart.

“What’ve you been doing to her?” Ben asked, in a tone that demanded. It was the first time he had spoken of you, the first time he had the courage to ask the question that so often plagued his mind.

Eisenstein sighed. “She is not as strong or durable as you, but! She has been able to withstand a good many experiments that have borne fruit.”

Ben’s glare darkened. “You’re a sick fucking bastard.”

“I am a visionary,” the doctor countered. “Can you imagine what your mutations could unlock for science? In biomedicine? Her healing abilities, though limited, could provide the cure to any number of diseases and ailments. Your longevity of life could do the same… Or if not, you will make for Russia’s greatest weapon.”

He stepped back and ushered in his assistants. One of them came with the true serum. Its contents had a light red hue. It looked like poison. Ben struggled in his constraints, grunting and resisting the hand that reached for his face.

“If you do not stay still, we will go to her next,” Eisenstein warned.

Ben panted through his nose. His hardened gaze flicked between the doctor, and the needle coming for his eye.

You heard Ben screaming before you could even open your eyes. You felt it in your chest. In your spirit.

He saved me, you realized, as tears once again stung behind your eyelids.

You also tasted cotton in your mouth. You realized it was because they had thrown you face-first onto your cot. You managed to turn your head so you at least could breathe, but you couldn’t move any of your limbs. Your enhanced healing was the only reason why you were even awake.

Ben…

He broke free.

The pain was too much. Adrenaline was surging through him, and he was able to grab one of the assistants and crush his throat. His furious gaze was set on Eisenstein next, but the fucker ducked out of the room quick.

Ben padded forward on slightly unsteady feet, ripping away the rest of his restraints from the cold metal. He stalked toward the door. Before he could reach it, a hissing plume of Novichok gas flooded the entire cell. 

His eyes rolled up into his head, and he fell to the ground. All the while, the serum was working inside him, bubbling and brewing red hot in his chest.

You were lying unmoving in your cot when Eisenstein came in to check on you.

“How is the little bird, doing?” he asked in his native tongue.

He ventured over to you carefully. In one of his hands was a cattle prod, just in case.

“They were careless,” he remarked. He set down the cattle prod to grasp your shoulders, and he rearranged you until you were lying on your back. You were still unresponsive, when the doctor knew for a fact that you should be awake by now. He had your reaction times to certain chemicals perfected to the minute.

He frowned and reached out to hold a gloved finger to your neck, measuring your pulse.

That was when you opened your eyes.

You raised up and headbutted him as hard as you could. Eisenstein cried out and fell to the ground. You followed him there and straddled him. Your hands were still bound by the straitjacket, so you had no choice.

You bent down and distracted him with a disdainful kiss to his lips.

When you next open your eyes, they were glowing violet.

You took control of his mind.

AN: 😬😬😬

Also, get ready for a whopper of a chapter in Part 9. (My favorite one of the series!)

Next Time:

Free me, you compelled Eisenstein’s mind.

He obeyed you with a vacant look in his eyes. He unhooked your straitjacket and opened the door. After you grabbed up his cattle prod, you still didn’t release your psychic hold. You ordered him forward, and for the first time you walked freely out of your cell without restraint.

Take me to Soldier Boy.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 9

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[katewritesthings]

Learning to Deal

So, I've never written fic before, so please be kind. I've had to drink a bottle of wine to finish the smut and gain the courage to post. Please be funny when you tell me this sucks. :D (I also have ideas for a few more short blurbs in this universe)

•pairing: Joe Burrow x Original Female Character

•summary: Caroline Stevens had been known to the fans of the Bengals' as Sam Hubbard's best friend since he got drafted. Now she's dating his teammate Joe Burrow and must navigate the logistics that come with that

•word count: 4.3k

•warnings: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. Slight angst. Angry Sex. Dom/Sub dynamics. Slight Daddy Kink. Light choking. Ass smacking. Cursing. Drinking. Cannabis Use. Lots of other stuff. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Caroline Steven was sure she’d never get used to how overwhelming being a plus one to an NFL starter could be. Since her childhood best friend, Sam, had been drafted by their hometown football team, she’d attended her fair share of over-the-top events with budgets bigger than her teaching salary. (That is, when Sam happened to be single and his mother was not an appropriate option.) This routine would be coming to an end shortly, though.

Over the last year, Caroline had started seeing one of Sam’s teammates, Joe. Meaning that the next time they walked into a jungle-themed room, she would be on the arm of the man she wanted to walk in with, and Sam would not be hindered in attempting to fix his single status. (at least for the night).

Although he was one of the most private (read: shy) people Caroline had ever met, Joe somehow managed to become the face of the Bengals. Seriously, the guy was so closed off when she first met him that Caroline was convinced Joe hated her. It wasn’t that Caroline disliked the fact that her boyfriend was charismatic enough to become a franchise player; she just hated the legalities that came with it. 

It would only take the entire next Monday arguing with the agents and publicists that the NFL and Bengals put together to officially be Dating Joe Burrow™. Caroline was more than ready to be able to claim the beautiful man she grew to love as her boyfriend, but she knew that Joe was a little more hesitant about what compromises they were going to have to make as a couple to get this approved through the league. There were whispers about using their anniversary to make sponsored posts already.

Walking into the banquet hall the Bengals had rented at Moerlein Lager House, Caroline scanned the room for her boyfriend. While they had texted a few times throughout the day, their conversation before Joe dropped her off yesterday had been acting… off. Joe seemed a little put off about having to use his personal life for marketing, but Caroline hoped he saw her as worth it. The two made their way to a table to the left of the entrance, where champagne flutes were set out for guests to take. 

“Calm down, Stevie." Sam’s voice brought her back to reality, using her childhood nickname. “I really don’t think Danny Devito is here; there’s no need for such excitement.” “You’re such a goober!” Caroline chuckled, pushing a stray auburn curl out of her eyes. “I just wanted to see if I could see Joe. You act like it wasn’t you who set us up, don’t act like you’re annoyed with how we act together.” 

Before Sam could spit a comeback at Caroline, two arms wrapped around her middle and squeezed her tight. Joe’s deep voice boomed, “Hey, babe," before kissing her on the cheek and greeting Sam. Ja’Marr, Irv, and Tee. joined the three, drinks in hand. Greetings were exchanged before Ja’Marr nudged Caroline.

“Damn, girl. I didn’t know your Ms. Frizzle ass had dresses that didn’t have dinosaurs and shit on them.” With an eye-roll, Caroline pulled at the hem of her black dress, trying to make it come farther down than the upper thigh. She was far more comfortable in her themed dresses and cardigans, which helped engage her second-grade students. “I didn’t know you had that much skin; I almost thought your legs was made of cloth like some stuffed animal.”

Before Caroline could laugh at Ja’Marr’s roast, she heard Joe’s laugh, and his grip tightened on her hip. “Don’t be mad, Ja’Marr. You’ve just been salty that I’m the one she chose to know how much skin she has and how to stuff her.”

At that moment,t the various reactions rang through the group. Tee and Irv sent a chorus of “oooohs” to the circle of six. Caroline nearly choked on her drink and sent a look of confusion and panic to Sam, who responded with a chuckle and a “Well, this got weird. This is my signal to leave.”

Caroline turned out the remaining four men, making fun of Sam for running away when sexual topics came up while her mind raced with thoughts. Caroline shifted in her spot, tugging at her dress again. 

Joe seemed to notice Caroline zoning out because a whisper in her ear brought her back to reality. “I’m sorry, Caro. It came out before I could think. I had two drinks before you got here; I'm so sorry.” Tee, Irv, and Ja’Marr were still in conversation, now about the chances Sam would find enough alcohol and a girl to make him warm up to the sexual topics tonight.

Caroline let out a sigh and excused her and Joe from the group. She led them to a corner near a window overlooking Great American Ball Park and a partial view of the river. “You’re forgiven, Joe. You know, I just hate when you get vulgar.” “I completely understand. You’re not a piece of meat. I promise I’ll only brag about our fantastic sex life and your crazy body when you start the conversation.”

 Caroline leaned even farther on her tiptoes than her heels assisted, and kissed Joe on the chin. “That’s all I ask, baby.”

—

Ironically enough, Joe and Caroline had that conversation at the beginning of the night because, at present, the couple currently found themselves in a small group of Bengals and some of their plus ones from the party, playing a drinking game that required the player to answer the question on the card drawn or drink. The night had gone smoothly after the small speed bump that happened when Caroline arrived, so she found herself relaxing into Joe’s side, enjoying the early morning hours.

A small group of Joe and his teammates had decided that after a season of abstaining from partying as hard as they wanted, they’d continue the celebration in the suite Ja’Marr and Joe had previously booked in a nearby hotel. Something had told them they would be too incapacitated to drive and would want to celebrate as late as possible.

“Oooo! My turn! I pick... Joe!” Irv’s little sister Rachel, exclaimed to the circle. Her words were slurred from the mix of whiskey and weed she had been ingesting, but the entertainment was evident in her voice. It was obvious she was enjoying the usually serious men lose themselves in fits of giggles when another teammate admitted something embarrassing.

“What’s the most amount of people you’ve hooked up with in a night?”

“Three,” Joe mumbled, not picking up his drink. 

Caroline sucked in a breath. She knew this, while they didn’t quite know everything about each other yet, she and Joe had talked a lot in the time of their relationship. Early on, though, they found out that their sexual and romantic history was best left on an “ask-only” basis. Caroline knew herself better than to have Joe tell her everything at once. After his last long-term relationship ended, she watched from afar as he numbed himself in ways she didn’t even want to think about. She knew it was best for herself if she only found out what she needed to know and she believed that included whether or not she would be in the same room with one of Joe’s random hookups. Joe seemed to share the same mentality because he had only ever asked her vague questions. 

Next was Irv’s turn to pick a person to interrogate and a card. He scanned the group and chose Sam. His voice filled the air, reading from the card, “What was your most embarrassing sexual experience? Describe what you remember in detail.” “Fuck off, it does not say that!” Sam protested across the table from Caroline. “I’m afraid it does, Sammy boy,” Irv laughed back, waiting for Sam’s embarrassment. Caroline’s eyes shut as she laughed at her best friend’s discomfort. This situation was so much funnier to her than the one earlier in the night. Caroline wasn’t sure if it was because there was some light ribbing going on, the presence of women, and a game that was about bonding, gave her comfort in a way that was not present when it was just Caroline and 5 men.

 “Well, I guess when I was like 16… uh…. The girl I lost my virginity to…,” Sam stuttered. Caroline’s eyes instantly opened. She knew this story. She had figured in 10 years and a professional sports career later, he would have more embarrassing memories. “Well, uh… We had decided that maybe we would try mouth stuff, y’know. Well, uhh. St-she went down on me for the first time and uh.. .she vomited on me.” Sam stuttered through the whole beginning of the story while everyone else was gasping for air through their laughs. “You got puked on?!” T.B. said through howls. 

“Well, that’s not all.. We both made so much noise when my lap got covered. Ma-her brother came bursting through her bedroom door, and, uh.. he caught us.” Caroline shifted in her weight and faintly joined in the echoing laughter. Joe looked at her with a quizzical look and took another hit of the blunt being passed around. Joe wasn’t usually much of a partier, but the Bengals had put up a hell of a fight this season and it looked like her boyfriend was damn sure goign to celebrate it.. He had slowed down on his drinking after embarrassing himself earlier in the night, but Caroline had seen him with a honey-flavored backwood and at least two different rolled swishers throughout the night.

Before Joe could make anything of it, Sam’s name pulled him out of his thoughts to see Tee’s placing a card on the table. It was Caroline’s turn and she was answering telling the most legal trouble she had ever been in.

“So, basically, Sam had gone to practice and I woke up before he did. I went down to the kitchen in his house and two of his roommates were talking about me over breakfast. They were basically saying the most vile things you could think of and it only got more vulgar once they saw me. I threw a cast iron skillet at one of them and was banned from OSU’s campus.” She had shared this secret with Joe a few weeks into seeing each other. He had heard a vague version when Sam moved out of his house midseason. Caroline filled him in on the details after they were together to let him know why she was so sensitive about being in ceratin situations.

The card game continued for another ten minutes before some member of the group suggested they play ‘Never Have I Ever.’ This time, Caroline caught the look Joe sent her as she filled her glass to get ready to play. “You’re sure you’re okay with this? They’re going to get even more raunchy.”

Caroline licked her lips before forming them into a smile. “I’m fine, Joey. I’m having fun, I promise. And if I get uncomfortable, we can always say one of us is tired. Just squeeze my hip twice.”

Rachel explained the modified “late night, here to get fucked up” rules. They’d go around the circle and each person would say something they had never done. Every person has five fingers up and puts a finger down and takes a drink for every time they’ve done what someone else hasn’t. Once all five fingers are down, the person chugs their drink and is out.

The rules seemed easy enough and before long the game was on and laughs filled the air. Caroline wasn’t really paying attention to who had done what. Except Joe. She knew she shouldn’t, but this was a loophole in learning things about him, and without all the details. So far the score had gone as follows:

“Had sex in a football field” - Joe drank. Caroline drank. “Ever made out with someone of the same sex” Joe didn’t drink. Caroline drank. (Joe winked at her) “Cheated on someone” Joe drank. Caroline didn’t drink. “Been cheated on.” Both drank. “Broken a bone.” Both drank.

The group was in good humor, consistently whooping at Caroline when she had admitted she did something. Rachel had changed gears from trying to get everyone’s dirty secrets to just getting Caroline out, picking topics for her and Irv that they had known would get her out.

They were both down to their last finger and Caroline was starting to get drowsy. She had drunk quite a few times during this game and had been tipsy before. Maybe if she were more sober, she would have realized one of the two things happening within the next moment. Rachel gave Caroline a jokingly competitive stare before mouthing you’re going down.

“Never have I ever fucked someone in this room.”

Being the level of intoxicated she was, Caroline didn’t realize that an odd number of people in the room put their fingers down and took a swig of their drink. She also didn’t realize that, while Joe was intoxicated, he was mainly high which caused his mind to work in overdrive. This meant that Joe had noticed that there was an odd number of people who put their fingers down in the room.

Caroline had her cup tipped to the ceiling and was almost to the bottom of it when she felt two distinct squeezes on her hip and her boyfriend growling her name barely loud enough for her to hear. Her mind started racing at what Joe could.

“Actually guys, I’m feeling a little past my limit and am probably going to lay down. Caroline, care to join?” Joe’s strained voice came through his tightly clenched jaw. Caroline followed Joe as he stood up and made his way down the hallway of the suite toward their bedroom.

“Are you feeling okay, Joe?” The question hung between them while Joe fumbled with the keycard and the door handle. Caroline tried to not let her mind race too much as she replayed the last three minutes in her head. If anything, she should be the one a little upset in her opinion. Joe had admitted to cheating on someone in the past, and although she knew of the incidents, she couldn’t fathom why admitting she had sex with Joe would set him off so much.

A low grumble she couldn’t make out brought her out of her thoughts as Joe ushered her through the door.

“Please?” Caroline questioned, indicating to Joe to repeat what he said. “Why didn’t you tell me you fucked him?” Joe demanded again, this time loud enough for the redhead to hear. She was standing a the foot of the bed while Joe still had his hand on the deadbolt. “Uhm, what and who are we talking about again?” Caroline nervously laughed, attempting to put the pieces of the puzzle together in her head. It hit her the same time Joe’s steeled blue eyes met her brown ones and he repeated the question. “Why didn’t you tell me you fucked Sam?” the third time the question was presented to Caroline, frustration and anger overtook her drunken state. “What in the world are you talking about, Joe? When I told you I didn’t need to know details of your sex life you told me the same?” Caroline was confused. She never intentionally kept anything from her boyfriend. 

“I did ask. The first time we hooked up,” Joe’s voice came out strained. He had moved towards the middle of the large room. All Caroline wanted to do was crawl in the large bed directly in front of her and cuddle her boyfriend. This night definitely took multiple turns. “You did not! You asked me if you were the first professional athlete I had gone down on.” Caroline was exasperated now. She didn’t want Joe to think she was lying.

Caroline walked into the bathroom for a chance to break Joe’s gaze. When she reached the mirror she began taking the pins out of her curls. “And I very clearly heard the story of the first time you had that experience tonight, with our mutual best friend, Caro.” Joe loosened his tie as he emphasized the last few words of his sentence. He was angrier than Caroline had ever seen him off the field and she hated that it was because of her. 

The redhead turned her body to face the door where her boyfriend stood. Even when angry, the man was beautiful. Brown waves fell onto his face nose and cheeks red from a mixture of intoxication and anger. He had his button-up undone to his sternum and was working on taking off his belt.

“And I had told you that story when Matthew asked if you knew how to use a lock! I told you he walked in on me in high school and you cut me off. Plus, that happened well before Sam was drafted, therefore not a pro athlete. I thought you were asking if I was a groupie trying to add another to the list.” “I genuinely thought you knew babe,” she said from in front of the mirror, her eyes taking in Joe. He had leaned against the doorway and was watching her in a manner that made her unsure of what he was thinking. Usually, communication was easy between them. Disagreements never lasted long because even if they had conflicting feelings on a subject, they were both willing to hear it from the other’s perspective to attempt to understand.

Caroline unfastened the back of the earrings she was wearing and placed them down in the travel jewelry box she had placed on the counter earlier in the evening. “I told you about how I was a nerdy ginger in high school and had to make a mutual agreement to lose my virginity to my best friend. You didn’t want to know who”

Joe took a deep breath and rubbed his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “I guess, I didn’t think it was Sam. You guys went to different schools.”

“That’s cute that you thought high school Stevie could’ve gotten the attention of a boy besides Sam.” Caroline made the joke, hoping to lighten the mood. It didn't.

“He went to an all-boys school, and everyone in my school was repulsed by me, so we made a pact to keep up with the Joneses, so to speak. When everyone in middle school was talking about making out, we didn’t want to feel left out, and that sort of just progressed on to other things…”

“Do you have feelings for him?” Joe’s eyes flickered with a flash of emotion as he cut her off, clearly not wanting to hear the details. “Oh my God. Absolutely not in the way you’re asking.” Caroline’s brown eyes made sure to keep eye contact with Joe’s blue ones, she wasn’t going to be the first to look away. “It was really just experimenting, Joe.” “When was the last time? Did I know you?” Joe questioned, anger still seeping through his voice. Caroline felt a lump grow in her throat when she thought back to the last time she and Sam had hooked up, or at least attempted to. It was during her and Sam’s sophomore year in college and he had invited her up to visit him at Ohio State. “It was the day we met. At Ohio State.” Caroline uttered. Sam had insisted on taking her to Woody’s, the on-campus tavern, to meet with some of the second-string freshmen. Joe barely said hello to her, before returning his attention to the playbook in front of him. The room was silent for a minute before Joe broke their eye contact, standing up straight. Rubbing his fingers against his lip again, he turned his head to the side. “Fuck, Caro.  I just hate that he’s had what’s mine.” Before Caroline could get out the words, ‘What’s yours?’” Joe closed the few steps between the two. 

“Yes, Caroline. You’re mine.” His proximity to Caroline caused her back to turn flush against the counter. “And tonight I’m going to mark my territory.”

A warm feeling of realization washed over Caroline when she realized what Joe meant. Or maybe it was horniness. Because at that very moment, his hand wrapped around Caro’s throat and bucked his hips into hers.

A moan of agreement left Caroline’s plump maroon lips, causing Joe to growl. “That’s right, baby. I’m going to take what’s mine. But first, on your knees.”

Excitement sent of chill throughout Caroline’s body. She liked it when Joe was dominantt, but it rarely ever happened without her explicitly asking for it. What can she say, the man was all about her gratification by default. 

Before her knees even made contact with the cold tile, Joe’s cock was out and hitting her in the face. A smile spread across her face before she opened her mouth and gave a lick to the head. Caroline still had her tongue out and she worked her mouth down Joe’s shaft. When the head hit the back of her throat, she closed her lips and wiggled her tongue. 

“That’s right, baby,” Joe smirked, raking his hands through the auburn curls at his pelvis. Caroline brought a hand up to cup his balls, retracting her tongue and beginning to move her back and forth. “Fuck.” Joe bucked his hips into his girlfriend’s mouth, causing her to gag a bit. “Gag on Daddy’s cock, that’s right.” He demanded, causing Caroline to loosen her jaw and attempt to take the rough fucking her face was receiving. That was new.

After a few moments filled with slurps and moans, Joe finally spoke again. “Get up. Turn around.” Joe’s voice was still gruff with anger, but possesiveness and lust had also joined in. If Caroline hadn’t already been wet from the worship Joe had just demanded from her, she would’ve been after Joe gave her ass a smack and returned his left hand to her throat. They made eye contact in the mirror in front of them.

“After tonight, there’s going to be no doubt you’re mine last.” Joe leaned in and whispered into her ear. His right hand busied itself tugging down the thong she had under her dress. Caroline lifted her leg slightly to step out of the thin material, Joe took this as his opportunity to line up the head of his dick with the slick of her pussy.

The tip of his dick entered her warmth and he whispered, “My girlfriend,” as he slammed his entire length into her. White pleasure tore through Caroline’s pelvis when this happened. Joe was not small, and feeling him push his entire length into her gave her a sense of fullness that she craved.

Pulling out slowly, his eye contact never wavered from Caroline’s. “On MY arm for events.” He thrust into her again, then pulled out even slower causing a whimper to escape Caroline’s smudged lips. “Mine,” Joe repeated, burying himself to the hilt again. “Any objections?” Caroline shook her head, making sure to keep her brown eyes locked on Joe’s blue ones. She wanted to see his reaction.

“No, sir.”

And she was glad she did. Joe’s eyes somehow got even darker with lust as his right hand pushed her back down, so her chest was flat on the counter and his left found her throat again. The marble dug into her thighs, but at this point, the pain was mixing with the pleasure, Joe thrusting aggressively into her.

Caroline couldn’t make out the chain of expletives leaving Joe’s mouth as she began to feel the intense pleasure building inside her. “I’m so close, Daddy,” she whined, trying on the new title Joe had given himself earlier. “I wanna come on your cock so bad.” If Caroline thought Joe lost himself in lust earlier, she was wrong. He let out a guttural moan and stood Caroline back up again, without removing the hand from her throat. He moved his hand from her back to her clit. He used his long fingers to work circular motions on the sensitive nerves until Caroline lost herself to her pleasure and began twitching lightly. She wasn’t sure if she was actually moaning or just imagining it until Joe’s voice coached her through her orgasm. “I know, darling,” He planted a kiss on her head. “I know, you’re doing such a good job, just breathe.” He peppered more kisses over the top of her head before he moaned again. “I’m going to come, babe. Get on your knees and open your mouth.” Caroline did as she was told, quickly. She wasn’t going to give Joe a reason to question whether she liked this side of him or not. Joe pumped his fist around his dick twice before warm ropes came shooting towards Caroline, most of it making it in her mouth, a little on her lips and chin. She took Joe’s thumb and wiped the excess, before making eye contact and engulfing it in her mouth. After swirling her tongue around Joe’s thumb a few times, she swallowed. She set her lips in an ‘O’ to show off her newly empty mouth to Joe. “Fuck, Caro. You’re going to be the death of me,” Joe said laughing, his cheeks flushed. He patted his girlfriend's head before saying, “Now go clean up so we can go to sleep. I need you to get some rest before I wake you up.” “Oh, yeah?,” Caroline cocked an eyebrow, still on the ground. Her thighs were starting to ache from never taking off her heels. “Yeah, I’m going to fill you with cum and then we’re going to go eat brunch with the rest of the suite,” Joe said, sternness still in his voice.

Caroline stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her makeup was smudged and her hair was a rat’s nest, she thought about how this was the happiest she had ever been. Though, she was certain if she continued finding and loving new sides of Joe, it wasn’t the happiest she would ever be.

[solomon-tozer]

Ru!! Humbly requesting little kisses for Little and Irving 💖💖

Bless you for your efforts.

;aldkjfa;slfkj I'm so sorry it took so long I very humbly beg your understanding.

Little Kisses: Little x Irving

"We shouldn't."

Edward knows.

He bows his head, his hands still clasped around John's, the moment refusing to fade. When he look back up at John, he sees that he doesn't want to let it go either.

We shouldn't, he hears, but…

With a trembling breath, Edward leans in, and finds John meeting him halfway, above hands clasped together as if in prayer.

We shouldn't, he knows. But we want to.

Previous little kisses / Request a little kiss

[call-me-mrs-winchester]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. playful teasing. a bit of angst. protective reader.

A/N : i love this gif! unfortunately, i saved it so long ago, i can't remember who to give credit to so if y'all know, feel free to tag them in the comments. don't forget to check out the story masterlist if you missed previous chapters. thanks for the love guys, it never goes unnoticed or unappreciated!

Maricela's POV

"Abaddon? Seriously?" Dean asks rhetorically, staring angrily at Sam as we walk to the Impala. "Thought you Kentucky Fried that meat suit."

"I did, Dean." Sam counters, his hands raised slightly, trying to resist an argument in public.

"You—Well, then, how did she get it back?" He questioned before thanking the officer who raised the crime tape to let us off the scene. "And why's she playing G. I. Joe?"

Sam answers back, just as annoyed as his brother. "No clue. Why don't you ask her when we find her?"

"Oh, I will. Then I'm gonna chop her freakin' head off—again."

We enter the car, and then it hits me. Abaddon. I swear I've heard that name before.

"Wait—isn't she the Knight of Hell who tried killing you and your grandfather a few months ago?" I ask, making sure we're talking about the same monster.

Dean starts the engine, answering, "Yeah."

"I thought you guys chopped her up and scattered her remains. But you just said Sam burned her vessel. I-I'm confused." I confess, unable to put the pieces together.

Having needed a demon to cure, they had reassembled Abaddon's vessel for the final trial. Before they could use her as a test subject, they stepped away to take a phone call, and when they returned, she had escaped. Having previous knowledge of the Devil's Trap bullet, her unattached hands pried it from her skull so she could get away. She used her freedom to track Crowley down, and when she found him at the abandoned church, she attempted to kill him for the throne. Before she could ruin the trial, Sam doused her meat suit in holy oil and set it ablaze. So, the big question remains: How is she back and in her old vessel?

Darkness fell upon us as we drove towards the bunker. Sam's phone began to chime over the music. Leaning over, he reached into his dress pants to retrieve his phone. Dean and I peeked over, wondering who would be calling at this hour. It was none other than our very own prophet.

Sam puts the call on speaker, greeting, "Hey, Kev. What's up?"

"A lady called Dean's other phone. I answered, but she expected to speak to a Winchester. So instead, she told me to give you a message: She has something you might want." He spoke in a rushed and shaky voice.

"Kevin, wait. Wait. Wait. Slow down." says Sam.

Ignoring, he continues, "She gave me these coordinates—44.053051 by -123.127860— and two names, Irv Franklin and Tracy Bell."

I type the numbers into the notes app on my phone before copying and pasting them into Google.

"Irv's a friend. Don't know Tracy." Dean replies.

"All right, the lady said they were hunters and that if you didn't go save them, that she would kill them."

"Yeah, I've heard that song before." The oldest hunter shakes his head, unamused.

"Dean, who was she?"

"She's the bad guy," he admits. "All right, new job. Dig up everything Men of Letters have on Knights of Hell."

"Knights of Hell?" With some hesitation, Kevin complies, "Sure."

"You find a way to kill one—I mean permanently—drop a dime," Dean mentions.

"Thanks, Kevin," Sam says before ending the call.

I zoom in on the digital map before presenting, "The numbers point to a spot on the outskirts of Eugene, Oregon."

"You know this is a trap, right?" Sam stares at his brother.

"Yep," he answers unfazed.

Scoffing, Sammy asks, "And we're just gonna walk right into it?"

"Guns blazing," he says fearlessly before glancing at his little brother. "You with me?"

Sam chuckles before shifting his gaze on the road ahead. "You know it."

Dean looks into the rearview mirror, locking eyes with me. "What about you, sweetheart, you with me?"

A flutter of familiarity tickled my stomach as I softly smiled back at him. He held my gaze until I answered, "Always."

Before arriving, Dean stopped at a gas station so we could change. As we neared the designated coordinates, my heart quickened its pace. No matter how many times I fought alongside the Winchesters—or alone—my anxiety crept in, going over all the things that could go wrong. When we arrived at the gated part of town, I suppressed the negative thoughts and replaced them with positive ones. However, with the history behind this area, it became difficult to sustain a sense of optimism.

A chain fence had enclosed the abandoned buildings. Sam hopped out of the car and pushed open the sliding gate so the Impala could fit through. After Dean parked, Sam and I walked a few yards into the vacant town. Graffiti painted the stone structures while weeds grew on or around the buildings. A large, rusted sign was posted near the fence, reading: DANGER. HAZARDOUS WASTE AREA. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

"The hell happened here?" Dean asked, halting beside me with the army green duffle bag in hand as we stared at the crumbling buildings.

"A local chemical plant sprung a leak years ago. They evacuated three square blocks." I answer, visually searching the windows for any sign of life.

"Guess it's still contaminated," Sam adds.

"Wait, so this whole place is poison?" Dean questions uneasily, turning his attention toward Sam and me.

Replying in unison, we answer, "Yeah."

Dean moves his left hand to shield his nether region, attempting to protect his prized appendage against the toxicity lingering in the air. His eyebrows furrowed, undoubtedly debating if this mission was worth risking his manhood. I stifle a giggle, finding his action both cute and silly. Sam judgingly watches his brother's action, staring him up and down.

"That's not gonna help." He remarks before walking away, leading the venture further into town.

"It doesn't hurt," Dean mutters.

My giggle slips this time, attracting the older Winchester's attention. I nudge his arm before nodding in Sam's direction. "C'mon, big boy."

We walk towards the younger Winchester while taking in our surroundings. Birds caw in the distance, disrupting the vicinity's silence. We begin to pass Ozzy O's Diner when we hear a loud thud come from within. Concomitantly, Sam and I reach for our waistbands and take out our loaded guns. With our firearms raised, we ascend the few concrete stairs. Standing before the door, Sam glances in my direction, giving me a look. A look that silently asked if I was ready, to which I nodded with confidence.

Sam kicks the door open before storming inside with me on his tail. The sun's rays poured into the diner, illuminating its light upon two bound individuals. The man and woman were bound together while pieces of cloth muffled their cries for help. Sam and I step aside as he beckons Dean over. He strides in and makes a beeline for the older man.

"Irv? Hey." Dean's gruff voice fills the quiet diner as Sam shuts the door. He pulls Irv's gag down before asking, "Where's Abaddon?"

"Abaddon's been torturing hunters. She's trying to get intel on you boys." The older man confesses breathlessly.

"Do you know why?" Sam inquires.

"I seriously doubt she wants to add you to her Christmas card list. Now, do you want to make with the rescue or what?"

"Right after you take a shot of holy water, huh?" says Dean.

Sam retrieves his flask from the inner pocket of his jacket and approaches the girl. His fingers unscrewed the cap before tugging the cloth she involuntarily fashioned off as I put my gun away. She opens her lips to welcome the demon test. He fountains the holy water into her mouth and cups her chin to catch any excess water. He steps away, waiting to see if she flinched. Instead, she swallowed without hesitation.

"Happy?" She asks rhetorically, looking between Sam and me.

"Sorry about that," Dean utters.

Irv responds with understanding, "Don't worry about it. Last thing you need is us popping black eyes."

Dean reaches in between the hostages and breaks their restraints.

As the girl stands, I ask, "You're Tracy, right?"

She—and just about anyone else over five foot two—towers over me. Her eyes glimpse over my appearance from head to toe before answering my question with a nod.

"I'm Maricela Coca." I introduced myself before the Jolly Green Giant did.

"And I'm Sam Winchester."

Tracy glances at him like she did with me and responds with noticeable disinterest, saying, "Good for you."

Silence fell upon the room, startled at her curt reply. In that unexpected moment, I instinctively whipped my head towards the source of her disdainful glares. My eyes widened with shock, and my mouth hung open in disbelief. I was left dumbfounded. Did she just talk to you like that?! I shouted at Sammy in my head. He meets my eyes and shakes his head, advising me to let it go. My mouth began to twitch, wanting to say something just as crude. Just as I was going to allow my tactless opinions to emit, Irv began to advocate for her.

"She's new. We did a shifter job in Sacramento together. Smart, but got a mouth on her."

She scoffs but doesn't deny his comment. Dean's deep chuckle immediately catches my ear. Giving in to curiosity, I turned and gave him my full attention. His charmingly crooked smile gleamed in the dimly lit diner. All eyes were on Chuckles as we awaited an explanation for his laughter.

"Sounds like our Mari," He jokes, lightening the mood.

My lips part to say a witty remark, but Sam's snicker stops me. Instead, I roll my eyes and decide to move on. "Let's gear up."

Dean picks up the bag of weapons from the floor and moves it onto the countertop. I leave Sammy's side and walk over to his brother. He begins to splay the reminisce of the bag across the dusty surface. Sam perches on the edge of a table near the window to keep an eye on any demons.

"All right, we got Jesus Juice," Dean places his flask of holy water on the counter before continuing the rundown on the weapons he brought. "Guns loaded with Devil's trap bullets. Shoot a demon, put him on lockdown. The Angel Blade works—"

A distant clatter came from outside the diner, capturing everyone's attention. Sam gets up and moves toward the window. He peeks through the dirty blinds, confirming, "They're coming."

"Good," Dean responds confidently.

"They've got assault rifles," Sam mentions, dampening his brother's enthusiasm.

"Okay, less good," I add.

Dean shifts his focus to the weapons, searching for a plan.

"So, what's the play?" Irv asks.

Dean quickly explains a way to distract the demons. After he finished, I helped sweep the contents back into the duffle before he swung the sack over his shoulder. He nods at Sam, gesturing for him to lead everyone to the rear exit. I maneuver to the front of the group and quietly open the door, searching for demons nearby. After ensuring the coast was clear, I raised my hand and waved. We advance to the edge of the building to survey the area. Nada.

Sam's large hand covers my shoulder, offering me comfort. A reassuring nod is shared between us before we shift our gaze back to Irv and Tracy. Capturing their attention, Sam points to another spot where we could discreetly escape. Following their confirmation, we run like hell and wait for Dean. The distant sound of the diner's front door being forcefully opened echoes through our surroundings. Dean walks around the corner where we hid before telling us the other half of his plan.

"All right. We got to flank seal them douche in there, so, uh, Irv, you and me will go left. Sam, you, Mari, and Tracy go right." He orders.

"Okay. Let's move," says Sam as we walk in our assigned direction.

His hands grab our forearms, making sure we stay close. Suddenly, Tracy spins on her heel and pushes him away, maintaining a safe distance between them by extending her arm.

"Don't touch me." She barks.

Sam's eyes widen, surprised by her outburst. My rage causes me to see red, and before I know it, I push her arm off of Sam and use my strength to shove her body away. Tracy stumbles back, nearly bumping into the dumpster behind her, as I step between her and Sam. Her stunned expression flashed into anger before she charged toward me to attack. Meeting her challenge, I take a step forward, but Dean rushes over to intervene just as Sam pulls my body into his and holds me still.

"Whoa," I shrug from their restraints as I stare down the out-of-line female. Dean's eyes linger on my face before turning to Tracy, asking, "What's the problem?"

Tracy inhales before looking at the youngest Winchester and painfully confessing, "My family's dead because of him."

Taken aback, Sam asks, "What?"

"I watched a demon slaughter my parents, and the whole time, it talked about how it was celebrating. How some dumb kid let Lucifer out of his cage."

Tracy glared at Sam with intense hatred after she recounted her story. Although she had acted like an ass, I really couldn't blame her. My eyes shifted toward Sam, only to have my heart break even more as I witnessed grief consume both his mind and body. Before I could move to console him, Dean interjected.

"Okay, all right, we got to move. Uh, girls with me. Irv." He pats Sam on the chest, finishing his sentence with his gesture.

"Okay. Let's go, son." The older man tells Sam.

Sammy lingers behind me, staring sorrowfully at Tracy.

"He's going to be okay," Dean whispers in my ear after his brother follows Irv.

I nod in agreement and try to refrain from thinking of how much Sam was beating himself up. Dean marches away to play line leader as we trail behind. With our guns off safety, we cautiously move along the surrounding buildings. After rounding our last corner, the view of the diner was straight ahead. Dean peeks at the restaurant's entrance before giving further instructions.

"Okay, I think they're still inside. We wait till they come out, and we pick them off one by one." He gives us the side-eye before seizing the opportunity to address the new girl's animosity toward Sam. "Listen, for the record, Sam's not the only guy who thought he was doing right and watched it all go to crap. Okay? That's just part of being—"

"Being a hunter." Tracy finished with acerbity, not understanding the mini-lecture.

"Being human. Look, you want to be pissed off at Sam, that's fine. I get it. But if you want to go after somebody, you make sure that they got black eyes. Got to know who the real monsters are in this world, kid."

She remained silent after he finished his speech, allowing his words to marinate. The quietness was short-lived as gunfire erupted in the distance. On instinct, we raised our guns high and low, scouting every inch the barrel of our guns could see. After the shooting stopped, Dean silently motioned to move forward. Suddenly, Abaddon jumps out of her hiding place and clotheslines Dean, knocking him flat on his back.

My body wanted to run to his aid, but my brain told me to fight. I aim my handgun at Abaddon's head, but before I can pull the trigger, she telekinetically flicks it away. My hand instinctively reaches into my jacket, attempting to retrieve the angel blade I keep stashed away. The pads of my fingertips barely grazed the handle when she waved her hand, sending me into a brick wall. I heard Dean's voice call my name before everything faded to black.

Dean's POV

"Mari!" I call as she flies into the building beside her.

Her head hits the aged bricks, knocking her out cold. Before I could get to her, Tracy fired an entire round into the Knight of Hell. I swiftly move from the path of danger, instinctively protecting my face by covering it with my arms. Once the clip was empty, my eyes instantly scanned Mari's body, checking to see if she was free of any ricochet. Thankfully—other than the injury that she-demon caused—she was okay.

"Nice grouping." Abaddon mocks, lifting her black shirt to reveal her bulletproof vest. "Kelvar. Beats magic bullets. I love the future."

While the demon was distracted, I stealthily grabbed my flask from my jacket. I silently unscrewed the cap before flinging the holy water at the Knight of Hell. She gasped in pain as the purified water burned her vessel. As she stumbled away, I rushed to my feet and reached into my jeans pocket for my keys. After fishing them out, I grasp Tracy's hand and place the keys in it.

"Listen, my car is three blocks over. Go get more bullets, more holy water—get everything."

"No, no, b-but what about you guys?" She stutters.

I push her away, yelling, "Just go! Go! Now!"

Tracy listens to my order and runs away. Immediately, I fall to my knees next to Maricela before scooping her delicate frame up from the dusty ground. Carefully, I release her from my embrace, settling her against the wall. I cast a glance at Abaddon and see her recovering from holy water. Gentle but urgently, I shake her shoulder and leg simultaneously, attempting to wake the Sleeping Beauty. When she doesn't move, my hands anxiously cradle her wounded head. Blood seeped from her hair, running along her temple and onto my hand, painting it red.

"Come on, princess," I beg, worry filling every cell in my body. "Wake up."

Not having enough time to check for a pulse, I force myself away from her, fearing the worst. Protectively, I stand tall in front of Mari and face Abaddon. She brushes her hair out of her face and smiles wickedly. Her red lipstick mirrored the anger that was boiling inside me. My muscles ached with pain as I waited for the right moment to wipe the smirk off of her face.

She briefly glances at Maricela before returning her gaze to me. "Alone at last."

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[lasplaga]

"Fuckin' hit me already!"

𓆙      —      𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐒 --- ALWAYS Accepting!

Repentance in the form of a small scourge was a discipline The Shepherd would offer --- BLISSFULLY. Itching ears plagued the wayward son of God ; Ricardo ignored the apostles teachings & rebuked The Father's doctrine. But no longer.

Wrath was a sin to be mortified, for it manifested as selfish desire in ownership of one's body. But 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡'𝐬 vessel no longer belonged to him, but that of a higher power beyond his meager, mortal, understanding. The disobedient child WOULD submit to his rightful pater & rejoice that the same black blood coursed through his veins. Newly inflicted scars would be his formal initiation, his demise in the marshlands of Kijuju SUPERFICIAL for the sanctimonious assault that would come.

" 𝔄𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔥. " Osmund’s enthusiasm was humorously cold, his head reared back as if a serpent assembled to spit fiery venom. Swallowing WILLING, albeit feisty prey to their demise. His left hand raised, feigning grace, offering no indication it would be used to strike --- until a swarm of tentacles lurched outwards & hissed as if a nest of belligerent snakes. The humanoid forelimb was absorbed by the mass of parasitic cells, twisted into an abominable instrument : A seven-tailed iridescent WHIP. With a flick of his arm, the weapon 'CRACKED!' the air, the echo fierce & booming far across the land. It not only served as Ricardo's looming agony, but a warning to ANY who would dare refute his unquestionable doctrine. Obedience was not only demanded from unruly beasts, but people who wallowed humbly in the treads of animals. " 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔰𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯, 𝔞𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔶𝔯𝔰 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡. "

Try as the host might, HIS FATE WAS SEALED --- Ricardo would succumb to the very bioweapon he capitalized upon & spread among the innocent. A fitting, ironic end for a King who selfishly profited from mass loss of life, was it not?

[leadandblood]

Ships that fascinate me, please keep talking

I like other, more popular ships! But they're not on this list, because there's you know... Enough spotlight on them already (Hickey/Gibson, Crozier/Fitzjames, ... you know) I just wanted to make a list for myself of the ones that I don't see that much of, but find interesting to think about. If any of you make stuff for these ships please let me know so I can follow you <33

Literally anything involving Tozer but e.g.

Tozer/Irving (read this👀)

Tozer/Armitage

Goodsir/Stanley

McDonald/Stanley

Anything with Jopson in it but specifically

Jopson/Little

Jopson/Tozer

Little/Crozier

Hickey/Irving

Des Voeux/Stanley

Crozier/Franklin or

Fitzjames/Franklin (I want to study your brain but do keep talking)

The Liuetenant polycule (+/- Jopson)

Anything with Hodgson really

Anything with Tom Hartnell

Cracroft/Hartnell (this one confuses me but do tell me more-)

Any and all throuples, please give me more throuples, I'm begging for more throuples, there's never enough throuples-

Fitzjames/Crozier/Jopson

Hodgson/Irving/Little (I want to see the intricate autism x autism x autism courting rituals)

[favouritefi]

my proposal for a locked tomb x the terror crossover wherein they are all in the cohort but come from different houses

2nd: all the marines, crozier, blanky, jfj (actually 3rd but sent to live with relatives on the 2nd)

3rd: franklin, hodgson, gore, dundy, des voeux

4th: all the ships boys, hartnell, manson, peglar

5th: jcr, collins, mcdonald, little

6th: goodsir, bridgens

7th: stanley, morfin, gibson, armitage

8th: irving

9th: jopson

BOE: hickey

feel free to house any boys that i missed

[goldfishgrahamcracker]

Franklin's lost expedition crew

I was looking at posts about AMC's The Terror and I kept getting confused by the use of first names, so I wanted to see how many of the characters had the same names. Arranging the crew in alphabetical order, I got:

1 x Abraham (Seeley)

4 x Alexander (Berry, McDonald, Paterson, Wilson)

5 x Charles (Best, Coombs, Des Voeux, Johnson, Osmer)

1 x Cornelius (Hickey)

2 x Daniel (Arthur, Bryant)

3 x David (Leys, Macdonald, Young) + Bonus: Bryant in the show but most historical sources I found list him as Daniel

1 x Edmund (Hoar)

3 x Edward (Couch, Genge, Little)

2 x Edwin (Helpman, Lawrence)

3 x Francis (Crozier, Dunn, Pocock)

1 x Frederick (Hornby) + Bonus: Des Voeux, whom I have seen referred to as Frederick rather than Charles on occasion

6 x George (Cann, Chambers, Hodgson, Kinnaird, Thompson, Williams)

1 x Gillies (MacBean)

1 x Graham (Gore)

7 x Henry/Harry (Collins, Goodsir, Le Vesconte, Lloyd, Peglar, Sait, Wilkes)

10 x James (Brown, Daly, Elliot, Fairholme, Fitzjames, Hart, Reid, Ridgen, Thompson, Walker) + Bonus: Ross, who was not part of the expedition but appears in the show

23 x John (Bailey, Bates, Bridgens, Brown, Cowie, Diggle, Downing, Franklin, Gregory, Hammond, Handford, Hartnell, Irving, Kenley, Lane, Morfin, Murray, Peddie, Strickland, Sullivan, Torrington, Weekes, Wilson)

2 x Joseph (Andrews, Healey)

1 x Josephus (Geater)

1 x Luke (Smith)

1 x Magnus (Manson)

1 x Philip (Reddington)

1 x Reuben (Male)

2 x Richard (Aylmore, Wall)

8 x Robert (Carr, Ferrier, Golding, Hopcraft, Johns, Sargent, Sinclair, Thomas)

3 x Samuel (Brown, Crispe, Honey)

1 x Solomon (Tozer)

16 x Thomas (Armitage, Blanky, Burt, Darlington, Evans, Farr, Hartnell, Honey, Johnson, Jopson, McConvey, Plater, Tadman, Terry, Watson, Work)

22 x William (Aitken, Bell, Braine, Clossan, Fowler, Gibson, Goddard, Heather, Hedges, Jerry, Johnson, Mark, Orren, Pilkington, Read, Rhodes, Shanks, Sims, Sinclair, Smith, Strong, Wentzall)

[nomilkinmyteaplease]

The Terror’s New Year Resolutions

James Fitzjames - to finally make 2024 the year he goes beyond page 1 of “How to be a Good Listener” 

Harry Goodsir- to stop stopping s*x in the middle in order to make diagrammes and take notes, shouting "Imagine"!

Edward Little - to sign up to a standup comedy club 

Francis Crozier - to give gin a go with an open mind 

Dr Stanley - to find if his daughter likes birds 

Henry Collins - to finally tackle his arkoudaphobia

William Gibson - to perfect his popping dance skills

George Hodgson - to publish his memoir "How I Looked Inside Myself and What I Found" (spoiler: 300 pages to figure out he found not much)

John Irving - to actually learn watercolors instead of just recommending them to everyone left, right and centre

Sir John- to stop pulling people’s legs

Solomon Tozer- well, he tried Veganuary, but failed on day 1