Just think, you can actually prove now that you slept with such a hottie!

You’re kidding right?

I’m Pregnant!

WHAT IF:
1. I died:
2. I kissed you:
3. I lived next door to you:
4. You found out i was married:
5. I stole something:
6. I was hospitalized:
7. I refused to leave my home:
8. I got into a fight while you were there:

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Any verses =D

She wasn't quite sure she heard him correctly the first time when Sylar spoke. Granted, a lot of the time, her brain is in a constant state of buzzing so it's easy to figure that certain conversational pieces may fall through the cracks.

But when Candice asked Sylar to repeat himself, the words came out exactly as she remembered.

It's the nature of my ability Dot. Every ability I acquire, I wield better control than the original special. Hell, even yours.

She didn't bother looking at the illusion he whipped up, choosing to focus on that self satisfied smirk on his face.

It took him thirty minutes to notice that she was no longer speaking to him. Another thirty to figure out why. Not many people are blessed with an apology by Sylar. Candice Wilmer is one of the few.

Gabe was in a funk and Candice couldn't stand it. No amount of cake and cookies could bring him out of it. It drove her nuts to see her best friend so sad.

"Come on Daisy." She instructed her big yellow lab, leading the dog into the bedroom, closing the door and locking her in.

"Okay Gabriel Gray," Candice says with hands on her hips. He doesn't even twitch, continuing to study his linked fingers in his lap.

He never even notices the oversized bucket floating over his head. Not until the cold, green, slimy contents are dumped onto him.

Once the shock wears off, Candice gets exactly what she wanted. Gabriel laughing and chasing her around the apartment pretending to be the Swamp Thing. There's no need to lift the illusion even when he has her flung over his shoulder, dragging her off to a bed of leaves underneath the forest of trees and taking her as his.

Except the slime, that had to go.

Tonight was the first official Petrelli Family event that Candice had been to since Skye was born. Angela had begrudgingly accepted her presence because she was the mother of a Petrelli grandchild. But there would never be a day that Angela would believe that such a common piece of street trash would be good enough for her Peter.

If Angela thought her disapproval would spur Candice on to either walk away or try to be different, she couldn't have been more wrong. Thing about Candice is, she always rose to a challenge. After seven cocktails and no food, it seemed tonight was the night.

By the time Peter joined her, Candice was already in the pool wearing only her underwear and a smile. He held her close, laughing and kissing her soundly on the mouth, neither of them caring one iota what Angela or any of the guests had to say. Sure his ridiculously expensive Italian suit was ruined now, but what did that matter, Mom paid for it anyway.

Peter Petrelli never imagined in a million years that he could be this happy. That he would meet his perfect match that one lonely night in the bar.

My mun is desperately in need of an intervention but until that happens, feel free to choose some prompts from the table FOUND HERE

Choose as many as you want for as many of the muses listed. If there's a verse aka twitter, shades or other please specify

I can barely move. My wrists bound to the bed with sheepskin lined leather braces. Though I can't see them, I know my ankles are strapped down just the same. I'm trying to struggle to free myself but only manage to have the restraints clamp down tighter until the point where my circulation is beginning to be cut off.

My head is thrashing against the thin blob that passes for a pillow. I don't like it here. The panic is rising. I have to get out. I need Sylar to save me. I'm screaming out his name. Shrieking at the top of my lungs though it feels as if no sound is emerging.

Tears spill from the corners of my eyes. Dribbling out until they make their way to the shell of my ears. I fight and try to get loose until my last store of strength is gone. My pulse pounding in my wrists as I'm sure they're turning purple. Pricks of pain radiate to my fingertips.

"Sylar!" I whimper, each time softer than the last. A sinister laugh pierces the darkness that surrounds me. Followed by the glint of metal when a stray ray of light hits the syringe in his hand.

"Time to put you down Betty." Bennet's voice is cool and collected even though i know he's enjoying this moment entirely too much.

I scream out as he jabs the needle in my arm, depressing the plunger. Ice quickly filling my veins, the last of my life being snuffed out.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE ME?!" My final words. Crying out before I succumb to the poison.

I awake with a start. Shaking. A film of sweat covering my body. A hand reaches out smoothing my hair from my face. I can barely make him out in the darkness of our hotel room. But I know it's Sylar. That he's here with me. I try to control the tremors. Don't want him to see my weakness or know just how much I need him.

And God. Do i need him. When did that happen?

He's sitting here broken. Unshed tears shining in his red rimmed eyes. I can't stand to see him like this. I know we both have empathy but this....this is something so much more. Our bond calls to me. Screaming for me to fix this. To end his pain.

I wrap my arms around my twin's waist, holding him tightly as sobs wrack his body.

I love him. He doesn't mean it. I need to be stronger. It's all my fault.

Each excuse digs like a dagger stuck perfectly in my gut. That bastard did this to my brother. The one person in this world who is sweeter and more innocent than i could ever wish to be.

His face is buried in my shoulder as I rub his back. Soothing, calming words mumbled from my throat. I'm grateful he can't see my eyes. The fire burning in the that only says one thing.

By the end of the night, someone will die.

The bass of the music pulsates through the club. Her hands run up her torso, cupping her breasts through her lace bra before she cradles her face. Her hips sway sensually to the beat, head forward and rotating, flipping her hair all around.

She gets down on all fours, crouched like a cat. Ass up in the air as she makes her way to her prey. Tongue grazing the inseam of his expensive pants, until she settles herself into his lap.

At least when she put a bullet in his head, her mark died with a smile on his face.

There's something to be said about when your friend isn't available to come to your aid when you call. Or when you text. Apparently some days, you've got to take the bull by the horns and handle matters yourself.

Gabriel had been distracted, working on an antique grandfather clock when his phone rang both times, letting it go to voice mail. He was just closing the back when the text message alert chimed.

His interest turned into concern when he saw that it was Candice each time, porting to her apartment immediately. Worried that something possibly could have happened to her.

Indistinct murmurs mixed with what sounded like cries came from down the hall. He rushed down there, not sure of what to expect but certainly not the sight he was greeted with.

Candice, in the bathtub surrounded by bubbles. Her one hand massaging her breast while the other was lower. It was...oh buried between her long legs. Gabe didn't know what to do, frozen on the spot. It's not like he'd ever witnessed this before. Most certainly not from a woman.

He told himself to go even though her moans were escalating, knowing she was close to the edge.

A voice pulled him out of his introspection. His eyes meeting Candice's, her face split with a catlike grin. "Well are you going to join me?"

Gabe didn't have to be asked twice.