#thunder mcqueen

Stand: Kiss N Tell

Ability: Can make the target feel illusory sensations, positive or negative.

“You don’t think I can do it?”

“Shit, dude, quit it with that ‘dare me to’ bull. If you just wanna fuck, you can say that.”

“Huh? Who are you calling a whore?”

“The whore is calling from inside the house.”

Releasing the lollipop from your mouth with an audible slurp, you flip off your bunkmate with your free hand, melting off the side of your bed with your shoulders nearly brushing the ground. By this point you’d pretty much perfected how to slide and squirm around it to lay or sit in any position, though not for the reason your friends insinuated.

Allie shakes her head, wispy blue hair fried as hell, leaning back in the bolted down chair. “It would be way easier to just threaten the dude, wouldn’t it? What’s the damn catch?” She asks. Like she could give advice looking like that.

“That’s just it.” You snap your fingers and look at her pointedly. She raises an eyebrow. You continue, waggling your fingers in a mockery of someone telling a ghost story, “Apparently he’s so desperate to kill himself, threatening him won’t work. I heard it from Hermes.”

Allie snorts. “Hermes? Fuck dude, that’s on you for believing her, she’s fucking fiending for money. Bet she already got it and just wants to see you catch something.”

You shake your head. “Nah, Hermes and I don’t have anything against each other.”

“Then why would she even tell you?”

You shrug a shoulder, saying, “Just making story I guess. Apparently he’s out of the infirmary by now so he’s back to wandering and cleaning.”

She blows a raspberry.

Your tongue rolls around the candy again before you give up and bite into it. Crunching like glass, it becomes chewy before you know it and you suck at your teeth. Allie rolls her eyes.

“Like I said, I think she just wants to see you laid up with a broken pussy.”

“But what if it was broken in a different way?” You posit.

“Oh you fucking SLUT!” She half yells, and you, cackling, roll to the side to avoid the pen she throws at you. Your blue stained tongue pokes out, and you sigh. Damn.

“Be for real, I probably won’t. But I am curious.”

“Just don’t get something that’ll come back to me okay?”

“Okay actually, did someone actually start spreading shit that I fuck without a condom?” You ask, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the… well yeah, it’s technically a bed. But Allie shakes her head.

“I’unno, just saying.”

You roll your eyes. Helpful as a fucking ant.

“I don’t. Tell me anyone you hear saying it so I can take a swing at them,” you say, sliding off and stretching your arms above your head with a yawn.

“So you mind telling me where you get your condoms ?”

“Starting your whore arc too?” You tease. She flips you off.

“No, but I might have a newbie who’s been desperate for some because she’s infatuated with some guy and my cash isn’t stretching where I need.” She exhales, and raises a brow at you. “So, who’s your guy?”

“Annemarie, she’s got like five different brands and Plan B. Go nuts,” you reply, and start walking out of your cell. “And don’t let your girl get my name because I'm not selling mine.”

“She don’t want anything used.”

You flip her off again over your shoulder and slip into the rest of the inmates, milling about lazily.

The stone city isolated from the rest of society had the same quiet, though occasionally erratic, rhythm of those on shore. Mornings were punctuated with calls from acquaintances across the walkways the same way streets were disrupted by cars honking, midday rushes to make sure the best of the lunch available was saved for them, and grumbling over the activities of the evening— nothing ever gets done, and none of the fun activities are fun enough. Not for you, though.

Grinning to yourself, you trail your hand over the gummy railing for only a minute before picking it up and shoving it in your pocket. A finger trails over the hidden inner pocket you’d sewn in, perfectly camouflaged into the way the uniform folded. It was the right size to fit about a thousand in hundred dollar bills— and you just heard a reason to stitch in four more of them.

Allie knew jack. You’d keep it that way as long as possible, all of it: Hermes letting you see a weird locket that she was trying to get rid of and getting sick after getting scratched by it, how you woke up with hallucinations of a crowd of small, blue skinned fairy-looking creatures with purple eyes that no matter how much you drank or slept, wouldn’t go away. And that when you finally interacted with them, touching one with a hesitant pinkie, that pinkie felt like it had been chewed off and you howled with pain until Allie slapped your cheek. The stun turned your attention back to the hand, where your pinkie was perfectly intact.

Realizing you could make people feel things that weren’t there… well, what else was there to do, but scheme?

What Hermes, Allie, and over half of the men you’d “slept with” didn’t know, was that your little troop, named “Kiss N Tell”, had swindled these guys out of their orgasm, plus any valuables they had. Last asshole had the audacity to hit your ass, and for that you’d also snapped a Polaroid for blackmail potential.

Even if he did have some weird ability, there was no way this guy could do anything.

You hop off the last step and roll your shoulders. Beelining to the infirmary sounded like a bad idea, and you didn’t want to injure yourself just for this. Besides, you think, scratching your temple, what was it Hermes had said?

“He took my cash when I was laid up. Jackass managed to slip his fingers right between the bars…” she muttered, kicking a book in the corner of her cell. “Tch.”

“And you got it back?” You asked. Leaning against the entrance to her cell, you traced a graffiti mark deciphering… what the hell was it a picture of? It was faded and distorted as hell. Cell must have last been cleaned minimum of a year ago.

“Yeah. He’s a bit of a crybaby, but he was tough. Says he didn’t kill the girl he was convicted of offing, not on purpose, and it was a gunshot, but…” Black two-strand twists bumped against each other as she tilted her head. She said, slower, as if in thought, “I think he probably could hurt someone, if he was cornered. Gotta be a little muscular if he’s a janitor.” There was something strange to her tone— overly contained. Hiding something.

“Hm.” You tapped against the wall. Hermes raised a brow.

“Going after him?” The joke was teetering on the edge of her tongue, but ultimately she held it. Though the two of you had spent similar lengths inside facilities, you’d been in Green Dolphin longer and you were technically her senior— you didn’t lord it over her though, it was way more worth to keep her as an ally.

“Sure, it gets the job done.” You stuck out your tongue at her and left, practically skipping down the hallway with a grin. You have to suppress it now, as you meander to the water fountain line.

“Oi, Y/N.”

You look up, and give a disinterested nod to the girl who sneers down her stumpy, thrice broken nose at you. Her eyes aren’t that bad, or the rest of her face, really, but her posture and pale complexion made her gangly, like a spider. You hide a snort.

She bares her teeth. “Nodding? Bitch, after the audacity you had?”

“‘Unno what you’re talking about, but sorry?” You reply, and shuffle forward in line. Great, what now? Didn’t seem like the other inmate wanted this sitch over quick either. You’d wanted to go to the library before anything else, and all the good seats filled up around this hour.

“You fuck my boyfriend and think you can get away without me knowing?”

Ohhhh. Christ, that was it?

This was the second time this had happened. Of course, you probably didn’t even sleep with the guy, but if someone saw you two disappearing together… ugh, you thought you had been discreet. You exhale, and hold up your hands.

“Didn’t know. He’s the one that came onto me, y’know. Maybe we should both get better taste in guys,” you say, before turning to the water fountain and pressing in the button to sip.

Only for your head to be pushed to the cold metal, your hand slipping off the button but not in time to stop the flow of water. It trickles down your forehead, in your nose a little as your lips pinch between the edge of the fountain and your teeth. You taste copper. Cursing, you try to look at her out the corner of your eye. God, that was stupid.

“Listen, you fucking whore. Everybody knows you fuck anything with half a pulse, you’d probably hit up hospice if you could convince those dying assholes to give you half their shit. You really think I’m gonna think he came on to you?”

You grit your teeth. The money. Just think about that. So close, you were so close to having decent savings. Your term wasn’t too much longer. You couldn’t cause a scene. Exhaling, you concentrate.

C’mon.

Kiss N Tell slides down your arm, little shaky, trembly figures with chittering wings. The girl spits; it lands warm, and slimy on your cheek.

“Answer me whe—“

Suddenly, the pressure on your temple releases. Sucking in a deep breath and stumbling to your feet, you just catch her flailing, nearly falling over and clutching her arm as your Stand hovers around it, hissing like a burning stovetop.

A few other inmates have whipped around, pointed their heads towards the commotion.

Dammit, dammit. Screw her.

Without another thought, you turn and pivot to the hall, running past the other inmates and towards the infirmary access. Through burning eyes, you just barely catch a glimpse of some green haired girl giving you a wide eyed look, before you slip away.

-

Sniffing, you take a shuddery breath and rub the ice to your lip. Your reddened face hadn’t quite been enough to keep you in the infirmary, but really you weren’t even sure you should go at all. Just because your term was ending so soon… would it have made you look like you’d gone soft?

Shit. You were so, so close.

As you shuffle down the hall, your head wanders to the girl who had jumped you. The guy who she talked about… you thought you knew who it was. Dampish, limp hair, pretty nice shoulders, but dull. He had a movie you’d wanted, and you’d swiped it after he was dazed out in a glow from Kiss N Tell. He was like the most of the guys you’d taken a little something from— one mouth against another, then let the ability fill him with pleasure, easily overwhelming so that some finished without you even unbuttoning their pants. The memory grants you a brief reprieve, even if your smile makes you wince. Ugh.

Can’t give up now though. Can’t worry about just another stupid girl. A few more months, they would be nothing but a memory, and you could be coasting. Just had to keep under the radar. Keep making money.

You fuck anything with half a pulse.

Stupid insult. But it does make you sniffle again, despite yourself. Damn. It didn’t matter. It doesn’t.

So lost in thought, you almost fall and injure yourself again when another inmate bumps into you.

For a moment, you lose your footing, but, grabbing onto a pipe, you quickly regain it and glare up at the asshole who decided to make your day even worse. For real… thank god you caught the pipe, going to the infirmary twice in the span of a fucking hour?

“Hey, watch where the hell you’re going, would you?”

A huskier voice than you expected murmurs, “Oh… I’m sorry.”

Huh?

Sucking in a deep breath, you straighten, and blink a few times to adjust to the low light. The yellow light flickers in dying bulbs. And your heart pulses erratically, matching its rhythm.

This wasn’t….

But you were pretty sure it was. You hadn’t gotten the most vivid description from Hermes, but how many inmate janitors were there? And he was decently muscular— you must have solidly ran right into his shoulder. Tall, blond hair pushed and styled back, shiny blue eyes downturned and focused on you with long lashes. Not too bad looking, all things concerned. Two large hands clutch a mop in one of the dingiest blue buckets you’d ever seen.

And if he had five thousand dollars…

You inhale. Maybe you were just proving that bitch from earlier right, but… ah, hell. Scratching your temple, you give him a sweet smile. He tenses.

“No, it’s… it’s okay. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Don’t think I’ve run into you before.”

“No…. Don’t recognize you,” he mumbles. Using the mop handle as leverage he pulls the bucket closer to him, the wheel squeaking as he nudges it to the side a little. “Should I?”

“N-no… I haven’t been this way in a while. Might come back a few more now,” you murmur to yourself. He tilts his head.

“Didja say something?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Nothing. What’s your name?”

His cheeks almost immediately pinken. It draws a giggle from you— seriously, that easily?

“You’re asking my name…? The last time someone asked…” he frowns, and rubs his temple. “I feel like something bad happened.”

Hmm. Was that when he met Hermes? Did he have memory issues, maybe? You mirror his expression and take a step closer, pulling the ice from your lip. As you do, his eyes trail to the puffy skin, giving you more of a natural pout than before.

“That sounds awful… but I promise, I’m just making conversation,” you say, holding up your hands where he can see them. Admittedly, you might be pushing your chest out a little, and his eyes do trail there.

Four more months. Four more. And you deserved a break. May as well just let the rumor be true for the moment, you think bitterly.

“My name is Y/N. Now we’re even, yeah?” You inch just a little closer. The man doesn’t budge. But he doesn’t back up either. He swallows.

“The last time a pretty girl asked my name… something… I don’t know…” he mumbles, and looks at you with a sad expression. “McQueen.”

“McQueen?” Bingo. You smile easily, letting a hand trail across your shoulder before dropping it. “I like it. Sounds cute. But in a fun way,” you tease, and lean against the wall. His eyes widen.

“Cute?”

“Yeah. You’re pretty cute. Too cute to be locked up here.”

McQueen’s expression shifts. For a moment, something darker seems to stir the deep blue of his eyes, but it’s gone. “You’re just flattering me.”

“I’m not, I promise. You really don’t believe me?” Pouting, your lower lip grabs his attention again. A thin tongue flicks out to wet his lips. “Kinda makes me sad, McQueen… I thought we were getting somewhere.”

“I’m sorry… cute girls like you, they don’t really talk to me. They think I’m a monster who should drown himself under the bridge…” he half moans. His head lolls back.

Cripes. Hermes wasn’t lying. Types like these usually backed down though. Just have to push.

“I don’t think that. How could I? I just met you,” you protest, and reach out to just slightly trail your hand down his arm. McQueen’s gaze snaps straight to it and his face reddens more. Hairs prickle under your hand. “And I’d like to know you more….”

“R-really?”

“Mmhmm.” Mischief lighting up your eyes, you lean in to whisper in his ear, “Though if you’re itching to lose your breath, I could just suffocate you between my thighs.”

Funnily enough, he chokes— his eyes widening, lowering shamefully to where your chest brushes his, before flickering back up to meet your look. Damn, he was cute. Overgrown school boy kind of way, his pupils blown out with desire already. As you press closer, a thrill goes down your spine feeling his arousal swelling against the inside of your leg.

“You really…” he swallows again, and lets go of the mop. It bumps against the wall with a clack, the bucket making it a few inches before stopping. “You really would let me do that? Someone like me?”

“Only if you wanna. I don’t like hearing you be so mean to yourself, you know? I wanna get to know you more before I call you a monster.” You reach up to let your fingers trail down his chest— broader, and stronger than you thought, you notice appreciatively, and say, “And I’m sure you know a lot of good spots to chat.”

Kiss N Tell hums at your side, each little being starting to crawl towards him from your torso.

“Y/N…”

He tilts your head up. You see that bit of emotion again; it’s something possessive, you realize, as his grip tightens, and a hand hovers around your hip, trembling. One being of your Stand hops onto it and begins to brush its little hands against it.

“I can really… can I kiss you?”

“Mmhmm. Go ahead, Mc—mmph!”

Clumsily, he presses his lips to yours.

Kiss N Tell squeaks and disorients— you practically fall into him, cheeks warming and eyelids fluttering shut. The hand at your hip takes hold, slides around to your back, pressing your body to his, hungrily, more than anyone else. Shivers run throughout your body.

He’s a little inexperienced, pushing his lips against yours over and over, stealing your breath, crushing you against his torso, but it’s overwhelming in too good of a way— your Stand draws back to you, confused, and you weakly will it to drift over his hands again.

Your arms lock around his neck, trembling as he walks you backwards. Where were you going? Panic surfaces in your head briefly, but the lack of oxygen from how desperately he kisses you… fuck.

His hands shake. Blearily, you register Kiss N Tell marching up his arms and clinging to his hips. But McQueen is still walking you back, turning you, down another hallway that’s darker than the one you were just in. Your stomach flips as you’re pressed against the wall, cold, gritty, the individual particulates in the concrete scratching you through your shirt. You hiss into his mouth. He moans against yours.

When he finally pulls back, a trail of saliva connects you two. Your sore lip throbs, and you swear you taste blood on your tongue. Dazed, you look up— and freeze.

His face… it teeters on delirium, how his own kiss-swollen lips are parted, the blue eyes heavily lidded and rimmed with long lashes that darken his expression further. Kiss N Tell glows on his torso and down towards his crotch, which, you glance at— oh, shit.

“Maybe I am scum…” he says softly, and drops to his knees. You take a deep, shaky breath, but before you can say anything, he tears down your pants in a single motion and turns your breath to a yelp. “Maybe I really am…”

He plants a wet, soft kiss directly to your clit through your underwear. You whine.

Your grip on your Stand is fading fast. It’s as though he’s already overwhelmed by the pleasure as McQueen lays his head against your thigh and inhales deeply, almost embarrassingly, the smell of your arousal and the sweat starting to collect between your legs. His thumbs hook into the flimsy fabric and pull the garment down. As the air hits your bare pussy, you shudder, twitching as his warm breath dusts over your clit.

“Wow… you’re so wet. It’s cute.” He sounds genuinely surprised. He flicks out his tongue and does an experimental, tentative lick, on the underside of the sensitive bud. You clasp your hands to your mouth to hide the sounds.

“But you’re kinda scummy too, aren’t you?…. Y/N.”

What? You glance down at his eyes. His expression is dark.

“You know about it, don’t you?”

“H-hu— UH!”

Just as he did before, he dives into you without giving you a chance to breathe. He laps at your wet folds like a man starved, each ridge of his tongue trailing against the tender flesh. You moan, hands lacing into his hair and gripping tight. It only spurs his administrations, clumsy, overeager, but deliciously intense as he fucks you with his tongue, sucking against your cunt and moaning loudly when your thighs press tightly against the sides of his head. Panting, you’re curling over him just a hair, holding tight to him as your head spins. Shit. Shit.

He rolls the tip of his tongue along your clit before sucking it harshly with a pop. You squeal.

“Mmmm… if I died right here, I would be pretty happy…”

McQueen barely finishes his sentence before he slides his tongue along your soaked pussy, nudging his nose against your sensitive clit as he strokes your insides with his tongue.

Pleasure burns in your abdomen, tightening, as your legs push in against his head tighter, hands shaking around your mouth as your eyes roll back. Fuck. Fuck. You cum on his mouth with a small, broken cry as he groans in satisfaction against you. The vibrations make you tremble, but his hands hold you steadily to the wall.

Slick slides between your thighs when he pulls back with a pop, then kisses your oversensitive clit. Again. And again. Your hands flail against his head, but he holds you there firmly as he licks you, your body heaving, nails scrabbling against him when tears burn your gaze but he refuses to stop until you sob.

“M-McQueen.. s’too much…”

“No, you’ve convinced me.”

Your leg lifts with him, as he stands; hooked over the crook of his elbow, helplessly, you lean against the wall, struggling to focus on him. A vile cocktail of emotion mixed, between you two— the haziness of each of your lust, your terror at what he said before, the determination in his stare. Vaguely you register the sound of a zipper, and the nudging of something warm and blunt against your entrance. Your chin is cupped, pointed towards him.

No… why does he look so sad? It hurts your heart. You lean forward, but he pushes you back, head against the concrete. A whimper slides from your lips.

“You don’t want to be the prison slut anymore, do you?” He asks.

Tears collect at the corners of your eyes. That’s… that’s what he meant. Of course. Of course he knew. The facade your Stand allowed. The ability to take anything you wanted, so long as the other felt even a hint of pleasure or pain. But he doesn’t have an ability, you think foggily. You would see it. You would. But that doesn’t matter right now… does it?

“I don’t,” you whisper.

As if you had granted him permission, as soon as you finish your sentence, he shoves the full length of his cock into your wet cunt.

You choke. Fuck. You hadn’t really fucked in a minute— he’s not the longest but just less thicker than a soda can and bullying your insides so hard you know you’ll be sore. Hell, it’s probably worth it. McQueen’s low, heavy moan in your ear almost makes you cum on the spot, the burn of his dick slowly replaced with pleasure as he humps into you with shallow, desperate thrusts.

“Mm, so good, you feel s-so good,” he whines. Strong hands keep your hips firmly against the wall, forcing you to feel the brunt of his movement.

He bullies your pussy, erratic, short thrusts that scrape against you perfectly. The slightest curve of his head has you twitching, nails ripping into his uniform, clutching to him desperately as you cry. Forget your Stand— he was already in heaven the moment he took your pants off.

“Offering yourself to someone as low as me… you really are sad, aren’t you?”

A hand locks around your throat. As the pressure builds your vision blurs, and you scratch at his shoulders viciously, tears at the corners of your eyes. No. No. He couldn’t.

Shaking your head, you cough on your words, half sobbing— “P-please, M-McQueen, s-so good, please—“

“You like me?” He asks, softly.

Barely, you register his words, and nod, crying freely. His dick is fat, stretching you perfectly, your hands shaking on him as he fucks you, the pressure on your neck insistent and heavy-- damn, did you not deserve this, if everyone thought this of you already?

“I l-like you, McQueen… Lub you, you f-feel so good…” you moan. Your head spins. Babble falls from your lips.

“Love me? You… love me?” His voice shakes. McQueen’s voice shakes as he continues. “If you love me like that, I can finish, can’t I?”

Your heart thrums. No. That wasn’t what you meant at all. But his pubic bone slaps against yours, your pussy clenching as he forces himself into you over and over, moaning, whinging, his need to tip over the edge mirrors yours, eyes rolling back.

Clenching around him again, you feel his shaft pulse and throb, warm cum flooding your abused pussy and leaking around the seal where he fills you.

Your eyes roll back. He pushes himself in a few more times; as if to make sure sure he marks you inside and out, white smeared around your insides and forming a cute little pearl as he pulls out, releasing your neck and you gasp for air.

Your brain is fuzzy. Cunt sore. Your limp body slides against the wall— Kiss N Tell isn’t even conscious, you lost yourself in the sensations a while ago. Gods. He needed you like water in a desert, that’s how he handled your body, as he rubs his leaking cock against your folds. McQueen exhales into your neck.

“Mmm… s-so good…”

“McQueen…”

In a fog, you shake your head. Your body is sore, ecstasy slinking through your veins from the after effects of his movements; fucking you like a toy, your pussy dripping his cum as you suck in breaths, looking up at him under dazed eyelids. McQueen’s expression is blown out with lust, attraction, need— your body trembles under his focus.

The money… where even was it… no, that wasn’t important right now. You look down.

“McQueen.. you came inside…”

“M’sorry..” he mumbles, and, your heart jolting, he rubs his half hard cock against you. “I won’t again… just wanna feel it… please, I could die inside your cunt, just lemme fuck it again, please…”

“McQueeeeeen,” you whine. The fat, swollen head of his cock presses against your hole. God, how was he hard again? “S’much, so

Much—“

“C’mon, you feel so good..” he protests, hands sinking into soft skin. “Lemme. Please. You’re the first girl who’s been this nice to me… I could die with you….”

Your head tilts. Hell. Even if you didn’t want him to. You would let him, would that you? It was too good.

You didn’t have to be the prison whore anymore. Maybe next time you’d get the money out of him... you wonder, head all a tizzy.

You only had one Plan B though. It flickers in your head as you cum again, his fingers sliding against you eagerly, rubbing that spot he knows will make you spineless. Twitching. Back arching. Your fatigued body succumbing to the ecstasy again.

You finally meet his eyes— horribly cold. And yet, filled with lust, a need that you can't get away from. You swallow.

“You pay…another pill, do it n I’ll let you—“

But your words are stolen, breathless, as he forces himself into you again, desperate for your warm pussy, his bare cock splitting you again, your head swimming as he moans and pumps into you again.