#alexa play sharp dressed man

[andy-clutterbuck]

[ellen-m-ichiban81]

Alexa, play Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top. 😍🥵

[koltonschipper]

alexa play sharped dress man by zz top

NAME: Kolton 'Kolt' Jameson Schipper AGE: Thirty-Nine HOMETOWN: Miami, FL RESIDENCE: Brookstone HOUSE: https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/9-W-Oak-Ave_Moorestown_NJ_08057_M50576-60782 OCCUPATION: Psychiatrist STATUS: Single

Family: Born to Jameson and Sherry Schipper in Miami, FL on December 21st was a little man name Kolt. He was the first of four more children to follow and boy was he a handful. From the start the parents of Kolt knew they would have their hands full. As a child he certainly had a set of lung and he was never scared to use them. Through the years his parents had assumed that it would be something he would grow out of but it only got worse. In grade school Kolt stayed in trouble for minor pranks, putting tacks on his teachers chairs or cutting the girl's hair in front of him. It was one thing after another and as his family grew and more siblings came his parents were having a harder time focusing on the trouble. With that being said as high school came the trouble only escalated into things that were far worse.

Kolten easily began hanging out with the wrong crowd from freshman year and caught himself being taken home by the police on more occasions that his family would have liked to admit. Though his parents would just scold him and pay Kolt's way our of everything. That was until graduation night when his friends and him took things way too far. One thing led to another (secret) which landed Kolt in some serious trouble.. once again his parents found a way to pay his pay out of it though this time they gave him a ultimatum. From then on he did things his parents way with no complaints or questions. Kolt spent a lot of his time in college getting his degree and license to open open his own therapist office. He had figured with his own experience he could offer a lot of help. Even the older he had gotten he still took the advice of his parents because he felt like he owed it to them because they saved him from a bad situation.

Relationships: Through his young years Kolt had no problem with the ladies he was never a one lady kind of man. That was until he had decided to go back to college to work towards his schooling and license to be a psychiatrist. One day while he was on campus he had seen a beautiful blonde from across the yard and he knew then and there she was his person. It was something he just couldn't explain. Their love story had started there and everything happened so quickly for Kolt. The man had no trouble falling head over heels in love with the fun and vibrant woman. She was everything he could imagine in a partner and more. She was caring, loving, compassionate and the best part of it was the fun the two could have. There was never an awkward silence and never a struggle to think of things to talk about. Everything just came easy for the two of them and in no time the two were living together.

However not everyone loved the woman, Sherri was beyond worried for her son. They had helped him get on this straight and narrow path where they had hoped that he would meet a wealthy and mature woman. (not that his girlfriend wasnt mature, but his mother would argue that). She didn't like the silliness and fun side that her son had started to show when he was with Lena and it worried her that maybe he would change their plan. For the first time since he was a teen he had went against what his mother had wanted for him. He refused to leave Lena because she was his soulmate and he loved her. This only infuriated the woman and after trying to make his girlfriend's life a living hell for ten years only to find out her son had proposed to this 'monster'. It only made things intensify and her anger grow more and more out of control. On their second year of their engagement Kolt was ready to settle down and give her his last name. He had talked of starting a family with her and with that he wanted them to go ahead and be married. The idea was beyond exciting for him and he couldn't wait to be a happily married family man who now had his psychiatrist license and own business to provide. Unknowingly thanks to the medaling of his mother that drove his fiancé away before that could all happen.

Current Day: The hunt for his missing bride was what brings Kolt to Juniper. He had spent the last three months searching and trying to find where the woman had ran off to. He had no idea his mother had interfered with things and wanted answers as to why she had left him. After his PI tracked her down in Juniper Kolt felt the only way he would get those answers, and potentially win his bride back, was to make the move to Juniper. Kolt had worked with a real estate agent out there in getting him a lease on a office building and a new house where he has settled in for about a month as of April.

[hotdamnhunnam]

Congrats again on 2K. i’m so happy for you ❤️

For the emojis: 🔥☕️🚧

For the character: Jax, i feel like those emojis have a Jax vibe

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! And thanks for the congrats! 💗

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Roadblocks Don’t Suck

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, car sex (quick & rough, light choking, Jax’s leather gloves (they’re a whole kink)) Word Count: ~1.4k Emoji Prompt: 🔥☕️🚧 (key words are in bold)

Jax Teller is a lot of things. Pussy-whipped isn’t one of them, but somehow when you ask for things he gives in to a ton of them. On some level in his alpha male soul that sort of stings.

He’s in the driver’s seat grumpy and grumbling like a five-year-old. You’re really in the driver’s seat with all the power that you hold, over the prince of Charming, destined to be king.

He lights a cigarette. The little flame matches his mood flickering sharply with resentment and regret, that he had caved to what you said.

“How’s your goddamn coffee,” he snaps, bitter and full of sass. Gruffly, to hide the fact that you can turn him into such a goddamn softie.

“It’s fucking lovely,” you proclaim, taking another sip and gloating without shame. This morning you’d asked Jax to drive your car to where the two of you are headed, rather than taking his Harley as he typically prefers instead. You wanted to sit comfortably with your coffee and finish up the book you’ve almost fully read.

He doesn’t know yet you were also hoping you could give him road head.

“Fuck!” Jax suddenly rasps as he steps on the brake just when you reach the end of your book, causing you to look up out the windshield in shock. It’s just a bit of bad traffic but your man sounds as furious as if your car was hit by a damn truck. “Ugh, there’s a fucking roadblock. This shit fucking sucks.”

Jax really just can’t deal with traffic at a standstill. He is seething, heavy breathing, living proof that looks can kill.

Glimpse flashing lights and obstacles with slanted black and yellow stripes to mark construction that’s in progress up ahead. Prince Fuming grits his bright white teeth around his cigarette like he wants someone dead. Possibly you. “See, bitch if we were on my bike I could’ve just driven right through…”

“Would you just stop? Here, I’ll give you a handjob,” you decide, casting your finished paperback off to the side. Sometimes—a lot of times—you’d rather make Jax Teller cum than hear him talk. “Shut up, just sit back and enjoy your smoke and let me stroke your cock.”

“What are we, fifteen-year-old kids? You’ll grab my dick and let me grope your tits?” he laughs, as you reach in his jeans to grip and squeeze his massive shaft. “Get down and suck.”

You take your hands out of his pants and cross your arms over your chest tightly, to tell him no such luck. “Maybe I would have if you’d asked nicely, you bossy little fuck.”

“You love it when I’m bossy.” Jax is well aware that his dominance gets you wet and juicy. “Know it hits you in your kinky little pussy.”

“You don’t know shit about my kinks,” you lie.

“You think?” he challenges with a dark glimmer in his eye. The heat of hell behind his smile. Glances out the window at the standstill traffic and decides to put the car in park so he can make this goddamn ride worthwhile.

Asking nicely isn’t really Jax’s style.

You can act like you don’t want it but there’s no point in denial. Every goddamn thing about him drives you wild.

When he wants something he takes it—bends your will to fight him off and fucking breaks it—snaps a finger and you’re naked—he makes sure you want it wholeheartedly too—but that shit’s never hard to do.

He always has you spouting off a senseless stream of oh God Jesus Christ Jax yes fuck yes in two seconds or less. Knows he’s your ever-living weakness. Face you see when you scream Jesus. Knows you’re his to play with any way he pleases. Knows just what buttons to press, to get his girl to be a wet whimpering mess.

Has you spread out on the backseat, shaking in heat, as he strips off your summer dress. Stays fully clothed because he knows it’s fucking torture when he doesn’t let you cleave against the smooth skin of his chest. Settle for clutching at the leather of his vest. The leather Jax Teller wears best.

Or is it…? Though you’ve never mentioned this before, Jax saw the sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours, when you watched his hands on the steering wheel clad in his leather gloves and thought that shit’s fucking exquisite.

To be honest it’s ridiculous that he’d wear leather gloves to drive a car. Today’s ride isn’t even far. You know it’s just so he can feel more like he’s riding on his Harley and it’s dumb as fuck but you don’t care about that given what a slut you are. Jax in the leather of his kutte is hot enough—but these damn gloves… they have you seeing fucking stars…

You’d wanted him to push your head deep in his lap while you bent down to suck him off. Feeling the smooth warmth of the leather in your hair and on your cheeks as you devoured his enormous cock and showered it with love.

He’d like that very fucking much, without a doubt, but in this moment he would rather see your gorgeous glowing face than have it buried in his crotch. More in the mood to fuck your pussy than your mouth. He wants to watch, the way your inner slut is spinning out—surrenders to his touch… the way your features melt, descending into ecstasy past anything you’ve ever fucking felt… as he traces his thumb across your bottom lip with one hand while the other frames your hips—taking you in his leather grip—tight as a belt, sharp as a whip.

And it’s insane the way it makes your pussy drip. Your brain is on a fucking trip. Can leather get you fucking pregnant? On the road the traffic’s still completely stagnant, but your man will have to get back in the driver’s seat again soon once the cars begin to move. There’s not a lot of time to get into the groove. No time for fun and games and foreplay—just a frantic feral fuck here on the freeway—love and lust one and the same to make and take when you two have nothing to prove.

Outside of sex, you know that it’s your job as Jax Teller’s old lady to continually kick his ego down a couple pegs. But it’s a different fucking story when he’s hovering above you and all set to shove his meat into the aching soaking heat between your legs.

A piece of prey for him to eat. To read your body as it breaks and burns and begs. Jax is the undisputed king when he has you spread in his bed or the backseat. And as his leather-clad hand wraps around your throat you gasp at how it feels so sweet because you know what’s coming next…

He applies just the perfect pressure and oh fuck you’ve never felt such perfect pleasure.

You can feel his power pouring through the leather. You can feel it pounding through your blood, as he plows deep inside your pulsing cunt, that fucking instant, with a savage fucking grunt, rock hard as he drives home and hits a flood, ‘cause you’ve never been wetter. You’re his fucking slut. Forever.

Two or three bucks of his hips—he sucks the prayer of his name off of your lips—tightens that leather fucking grip—your grip on consciousness begins to fucking slip…

Just came undone, though this had only just begun. He spills inside you that same second and you’re both sprawled on the seat sex-dumb and drunk.

Two seconds later all the cars outside decide to fucking honk.

He really doesn’t give a fuck. You’re both so bulldozed by the love you made you probably wouldn’t notice if this steamy little car of yours got totaled by a truck. Honk all they want for all you care—the two of you are far beyond the world out there—you’re stuck in heaven with no plans to come unstuck.

Maybe try fucking one more time to piss off everyone outside and push your luck.

Jax reads your mind because it’s his. Leather glove soft around your throat now as he smiles through a cigarette-and-coffee-flavored kiss. “Maybe roadblocks don’t suck.”

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Emoji Fic Masterlist

Emoji Fic Tag List – below; if you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

@happyhunnams @band--psycho @est11 @edonaspanca @starbooty @innerpaperexpertcloud @i-love-scott-mccall @six-camelot @alexa-rae-dreamz @coffeebooksandfandom @thesuicidalflower @flaireandsynch @helloheyhihowdyheya @gemini0410 @waywardodysseys @zozebo @bettergetusetoit @emilykjh @little-diable @rocketqueen @mrspeacem1nusone @miss-smutty @rayslittlekitten @abby-splace @chubbychubbs28 @miraclesoflove @tegggeeee @hunnambabe @missusnora @kesskirata @vixenrebellion @thexhostess @pomegranatearildreams @kandii395 @severewobblerlightdragon @itspdameronthings @niki-xie @cind-in-real-life @saweetspoiled @poge-life @few-proud-emotonal @samanthaisnthome @melodranas @soaharleys @charlie-hunnams-old-lady @simpmasterjr @nataliewalker93 @lovebarefootblonde @marvelousmermaid @tsukuyomi011 @sciapod

[mommy-imagines]

Pretty Boy - part. 3

Content: Mommy Kink. Sugar Mommy. MILF. Protectiveness. Emotional Hurt/Comfort. Insecure Atsumu. Age-play. Diapers. Breastfeeding.

Words: 3.705

A/n: This chapter is to introduce Atsumu to the idea of letting his walls down with Mommy and fully trusting her. There is no smut, but the next one will, for sure.

Atsumu kept his head lowered, pulled his hood over his head, low enough to cover part of his eyes, he was suddenly glad beyond words for Mommy having made him wear sunglasses; There were reporters and paparazzis surrounding the entrance of the place where they held their practices and even worse than the blinding flashes of the cameras were the yells from all sides. Atsumu felt himself freezing to the spot when they finally identified him and instantly he was surrounded. He felt trapped and he didn’t like it one bit.

He didn’t know what to do but then, as if materializing from thin air, Mommy was by his side, her hand firm on the small of his back and her security team forming a wall between them and the screaming reporters, “Ma’am, over here! How long have the two of you been together?” Atsumu cringed, all that he wanted at that moment was to be back home with Mommy, curled up on the large couch in the conservatory, the big windows letting the sun in, he liked the pretty flowers that were placed all around the room.

“Baby?” He heard Mommy’s voice directly on his ear and turned to look at her, he was wearing sunglasses but she just knew that his eyes were wide and frightened, “You’re going to keep your head down and follow me, okay?” She posed it as a question but it was a statement, really. Atsumu nodded and leaned back on her hand. Mommy looked at one of her security guards and then they were quickly walking across the sea of camera flashes and screaming people.

“Are you okay?” Was the first thing that Mommy said as soon as they were safely inside. Her assistant, Alexa, was somehow also there and Mommy handed her her purse and her coat, reaching for Atsumu’s gym bag and handing it to Alexa as well. She largely ignored the other people present, eyes scanning over Atsumu, looking for any sign of him being hurt. Atsumu drew in a shaky breath, looked down and fuck but his hands were trembling; Mommy reached up to his face and took off his sunglasses, her expression turning stormy the moment she identified the look in his eyes as pure distress and panic, “Okay, baby,” She said, her voice pitched low enough only for them to hear it, “You’re okay, no one’s going to hurt you, no one’s even going to touch you; Do you want to go home? All you have to do is say the word and we’re going,” She assured him, right hand cupping his cheek, her forehead touching his own.

Atsumu swallowed around the lump on his throat and shook his head, “I’m okay,” He offered, even if his voice was rough, “I’m going to be okay.” He corrected himself at her disbelieving look.

She gave him one last assessing look before turning around, eyes sharp and furious, “Is anyone going to tell me just what the hell was that circus out there?” She demanded. The room turned silent, enough that it was possible to hear a pin drop, suddenly no one could meet her eyes. Mommy pressed her lips together. “Alexa?” She prompted and her PA was by her side in seconds, having transferred the previously handed objects to someone from the security team.

“It seems that the tabloids have received pictures from the two of you out around town last Friday, ma’am; We have been getting calls all morning asking for an exclusive interview.” She informed, and Mommy didn’t look all too happy.

“Alright,” She sighed, eyes roaming around the room filled with team’s executives and players alike, she turned back to Atsumu, “I suppose that you need to go to practice, I need to get to the office, if Alexa is right about this, my day is going to be hell; What time is practice over?”

Atsumu cleared his throat, still a bit shaken and very much uncomfortable having all eyes on him like that, when he was so vulnerable, “Four thirty.” He informed her, the unsaid Mommy, stay, please don’t leave me here alone! was heard loud and clear by the two of them, for Mommy’s eyes turned sorrowful suddenly.

“Okay, I’ll send a car, Richard is my second driver, he’ll be waiting for you; Also, Vladmir, Maxim!” She called two security guards that were standing near the door; Atsumu chanced a look at them and, sure enough, they were taller than him, packed with muscles that even dressed in suits were possible to see, Mommy kept looking at them, but her hand was rubbing small circles on his shoulder, Atsumu leaned into the comforting touch, “The two of you will stay here with him, don’t let any of those vultures out there near him, do you understand me?” Her voice was stern and authoritative and if it was any other moment than this one, Atsumu would get aroused just by hearing it. But, alas, he was still very much shaken from the shitstorm outside and very much self conscious being on the spotlight.

“Yes, ma’am; They won’t touch a hair on his head.” One of them answered, voice gruff.

“You better hope so,” Mommy responded and then she turned back to Atsumu, her eyes instantly becoming gentle again and her voice turning low so no one else would hear it, “Baby, Mommy needs to go, but if at any moment you feel uncomfortable and want to leave, or if anyone here says anything to you, you can call me, doesn’t matter the time, and I’ll come and get you, okay?” She assured him, her voice not louder than a whisper, but all that he could muster back was a nod, blinking fast enough so no tears would come, “Okay, I’ll see you later,”

And with that, Mommy was calling Alexa back to her side, her own security team, and was out of the door. Atsumu felt a moment of panic when he realized that not only was he alone and away from Mommy when all that he wanted was to be held, but on top of everything he didn’t have a clue as to where Alexa had dropped his gym bag. He turned to the side to go look for it, but one of his new guards handed it to him, “Here, sir;” He said, voice rough but respectful. It made Atsumu feel weird, being addressed like that and in front of people. This whole day just felt off.

“Thank you,” He said nonetheless, because the day might have taken a turn for the worst and he might be on the verge of a complete meltdown, but he was still Mommy’s good boy and Mommy always said that he had to remember his manners because he was a polite boy. Atsumu swallowed again, shouldered his bag and turned around, walking through the sea of people on the foyer, he didn’t lower his head but man, did he want to. He kept going until he reached the changing rooms.

Once he made sure that it was empty, Atsumu allowed himself to sink back against his locker, eyes falling closed and head banging against the metal. He took in a shuddering breath, brought up a hand to rub against his eyes firmly, determined not to cry in the middle of so many people who, clearly, already had more than enough reason to talk about him. Atsumu wanted to curse, just under his breath, a way to try and unwind, but then again, Mommy didn’t like it when he used bad words, said that that was no language for a good little boy to be throwing around. He was screwed.

“‘Tsumu?” He heard a tentative voice sounding from the changing room’s door and forced his eyes to blink open, he turned his head and was faced with Bokuto, Omi and Hinata, all looking at him with shock just barely concealed by their worry, “Are you alright? That shit was crazy outside, maybe you should sit down, man,” Bokuto said and Atsumu gave him a small smile.

“I’m doing good,” He offered, cleared his throat when his voice sounded much too rough to his own ears and didn’t miss the concerned looks that his friends traded, “But thank you; How are things out there?” He asked, motioning to the rest of the gym.

Omi’s eyes were watching him closely but Atsumu was grateful when he humored him with a small grin, “Executives are going crazy, mostly,” His rushed to add more when Atsumu’s eyes grew big hearing that, “Not in a bad way! No! They’re talking about how to turn the press around and how it is actually good press to the team;”

Atsumu nodded slowly, “In the end, they’re all just very much worried about making sure that your girlfriend doesn’t turn her rage to them, I think that I’ve heard something about doubling security. They're all terrified of her!" Hinata added and Atsumu shifted in place. He did not like to inconvenience people at all and now not only was Mommy having to go out of her way but also people he worked with!

He longed for Mommy and he wished that he could just call her and go home - But he knew that he had to stay for practice. They had important games coming soon, plus he didn’t want to give everyone else even more reason to talk about him behind his back, ���I suppose that I should change, then;” Atsumu threw them a small smile, grabbed his uniform and went to do just that.

/*/

They were having a small break, just enough time so everyone could catch their breath and drink some water. He was sitting down on a bench, head between his hands, just resting, when he felt his phone vibrate beside him. He turned to reach it, the ID said Mommy 💖 and showed a picture of Mommy hugging him from behind, his face tucked against her neck and a big smile on her face. Bokuto was sitting directly to his side and Omi and Hinata were standing up in front of them, if any of them saw the phone’s screen, none of them said anything about it and Atsumu was grateful for it, especially because he caught the shocked looks they all suddenly tried to hide.

He grabbed his phone, answered the call and went to a corner of the court so no one would overhear his conversation, but he was acutely aware of his teammates staring curiously after him.

Mommy wanted to know how he was feeling, how was practice going, did anyone say anything to him or did he want to go home? Atsumu reassured her repeatedly that he was fine, as far as possible, and that no, no one had said anything to him, at least not to his face.

(He didn’t mention how he had walked by just in time to see a group of his coworkers going over the pictures from the tabloids from their day out shopping, calling him a sugar baby and saying that at least he made good eye candy.) (He didn’t mention that because he knew that if he did, Mommy would drive down immediately; Still, he knew that he needed to tell Mommy about it at some point, because it made him sad and made his eyes sting with unshed tears and one of Mommy’s rules was to never keep secrets from Mommy, especially when they made him sad.)

They said their goodbyes, Mommy told him to hang on just a little longer and then he could go home and she would meet him there and they could cuddle with Toulouse and he could nurse from Mommy.

Atsumu had to say goodbye quickly after that, because thinking about that made his brain feel fuzzy and he couldn’t afford that.

He joined the others and pretended not to notice when the conversations suddenly came to a halt.

/*/

When practice finally ended, Atsumu was the first one out of the court and into the showers, quickly washing himself clean from the sweat, gritting his teeth because he liked it best when Mommy was the one to wash him clean, always in the bathtub with the water the perfect temperature and smelling nice and with bubbles. He scrubbed his hair harder.

Atsumu was quick to pat himself dry and to pull on his clothes. Skinny jeans and a hoodie; Both were gifts from Mommy from the day that they went shopping, one of the bags with Armani printed on it on the many pictures splayed across the tabloids was the one that had been holding his current attire.

“‘Tsumu, wait a moment!” Bokuto called for him and Atsumu noticed that his teammates were just walking past him to enter the changing room while he was ready to bolt, “We just wanted to ask you man, if you’re happy,” Bokuto was looking at him with wide eyes painfully earnest. Atsumu looked to Hinata and to Omi and both of them had similar expressions. “We’re just asking because all day you have been on edge, it's all.”

“I am, I promise,” Atsumu smiled at them, it was a small smile, but a smile nonetheless, “I’m just still a bit shaken from this morning, was not expecting that crowd at all,” He forced himself to give a short laugh, “But yes, I’m happy, I really am.” He told them, prayed to god that his voice sounded as sincere as he felt.

They stared at him for a few seconds and then he was met with three matching grins, “Good! So if you’re happy, we’re happy too!” Hinata told him happily, coming forward to give him a hug, “Also man, I might be jealous of you, she’s just… wow!” He ended, nodding appreciatively, and Atsumu had to exercise some restraint because that was his Mommy! No one else was allowed to think about his Mommy like that! But Hinata didn’t know that and he was being a good friend, so Atsumu laughed softly and nodded at him.

“Does ‘Samu know?” Omi asked him and Atsumu looked down guiltily.

“I suppose that now he does know, but we were planning on inviting him over for dinner this weekend so we could tell him ourselves; Bit too late for that now, I suppose,” Atsumu confessed, mind working a mile a minute trying to figure it out his brother’s reaction. His phone had blown up earlier with texts from ‘Samu, but he didn’t have the nerve to look them over.

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine.” Bokuto told him and was about to say something else when one of Atsumu’s new bodyguards (he couldn’t wrap his head around that concept) appeared by their side.

His hands were crossed firmly in front of him, his shoulders were squared, and he said something on his earpiece before turning forward and looking at Atsumu, “Sir, the driver is here and your car is ready, there is still a crowd upfront so we have worked with the team’s security crew and will be leaving by the back door. We have orders to work around the media so as to not let them get near you and then to take you straight home. Whenever you’re ready to leave, just let me know.” He informed him, voice professional.

Atsumu turned to his friends to say goodbye, all that he really wanted was for Mommy to cradle him close, maybe rock him a bit, but his friends were watching him with raised eyebrows and big grins, “I suppose that I could definitely get used to living like that,” Bokuto joked before coming forward and friendly slapping his shoulder, “Go on man, I bet that you must be drained from this hell of a day, if you need anything, just text me, alright?”

Atsumu nodded and looked at his friend, “Yeah, thanks man,” He smiled. He bid his friends goodbye and followed Maxim as he guided him through the building and out of the back door, straight inside one of Mommy’s town cars.

As Atsumu sinked into the leather seats, he felt his eyes closing. Not much longer now and then he could curl up in Mommy’s lap with his best friend and forget all about this damned day.

/*/

When he got home, Atsumu went straight to Mommy’s bedroom; Undressing quickly and immediately hiding completely under the soft covers. He felt exhausted and sooner rather than later, his cheeks were flushed pink and were wet with his tears.

He didn’t really know why it was that he was crying, it wasn’t like he had never been the center of attention before, but maybe it was the fact that he felt exposed and raw. So wrapped up in his own spiraling thoughts that he was, that it took Mommy pulling him into her lap for him to notice that he was no longer alone, “Oh, baby;” Mommy cooed, rocking him slowly and smoothing his blonde hair back and away from his face, tsking when he gasped for air, “Baby, it’s okay, you’re okay, Mommy is right here and Mommy isn’t leaving,” She cooed at him for long moments, his large hands balling into tight fists where they were bunching up the fabric of her silk shirt.

Mommy continued to hold him close and to rock him slowly until he was all cried out, only then reaching for the bedside table for a baby wipe that Atsumu was not sure where it came from, cleaning his face from tears and wiping his nose, “Are you feeling better, baby?” She asked him, bright eyes looking down at him in worry.

“A bit,” Was his response, voice hoarse from crying, hand coming up to rub his eyes, “How was your day, Mommy?” He asked, voice small.

Mommy looked at him with a small frown, but indulged him nonetheless, “It was fine, as far as it could be; A lot of calls asking for interviews,” She rolled her eyes before sighing softly, “But we won’t be doing any of those, so there’s no need to worry over that.” She informed him and Atsumu felt a bit calmer with that piece of information, “Have you eaten anything?” She frowned heavily when he shook his head no, “I’ll ask the cook to make you something, nothing too heavy,”

“I’m not hungry, Mommy,” He told her, “Can we just cuddle and eat later?” He asked and she hated with a passion how small and unsure his voice sounded.

“Okay, baby,” She conceded, “But you’re eating dinner later on,” Mommy’s tone didn’t allow any objections and Atsumu just nodded; He studied her face when she bit her lower lip as if thinking, before bringing her hand to caress his warm face, “Baby, Mommy wants to try something a bit different tonight; You might not like it at first, but Mommy really thinks that it’ll help you relax, do you remember how you felt last Friday when you nursed from Mommy for the first time?”

Atsumu frowned a bit and Mommy smoothed it over with gentle fingers, “Felt fuzzy, weird but not a bad weird,” He responded, hands coming up to play with the pearls around her neck, hazel eyes studying it intently and Mommy smiled down at him.

“It’s called a little headspace, darling,” She said, hand continuing its motion on his cheek, “That is when you go into a headspace of an age younger than your biological one,” She told him, shushed him softly and held him a bit tighter when he hid his face on her neck, “There’s no need to feel embarrassed, baby; Mommy wanted you to feel like that, didn’t you feel safe? Like you could just relax and let Mommy take care of you?” She hummed once he nodded hesitantly against her neck, hand coming up to cup the back of his head, “Well, now Mommy wants to try something else that might make it easier for you to slip right back into that headspace. Mommy knows that you had a very stressful day, and I think that my little boy deserves to relax now,”

Atsumu swallowed thickly, arms wrapping around Mommy’s middle as he tried to burrow closer to her. He knew that he should feel weirded out, maybe fight this entire dynamic, but should he really? Mommy had done nothing but care for him all this time, she never let him down and she never allowed him to feel self-conscious. He felt Mommy’s fingers cupping his chin until his eyes were meeting hers, he knew that his cheeks were bright red, “Okay, Mommy,” He said, trusting her with yet another aspect of his life.

Mommy kissed his lips softly, gave him a bright smile, “Okay, baby, lay down on the bed, Mommy will be right back;” She said and Atsumu moved to do as told. His eyes watched her with rapt attention as she disappeared inside the walk-in closet and came back with a large bag. She offered him a kind smile as she showed him the first object and Atsumu felt himself go numb with embarrassment as he identified it as a changing mat. Mommy patted his hip softly and he raised his body just enough for her to place it underneath him, “You know, baby; Mommy thinks that maybe you should have your friend with you,” Her voice was tender as she handed him Toulouse and immediately Atsumu hid his face on the soft orange fur. He closed his eyes tightly and felt himself floating away, barely processing Mommy’s actions as she wiped him down, powdered his privates and taped the diaper around his hips.

It was only when Mommy was moving him again, cradling him close to her chest and guiding his mouth to her nipple that Atsumu allowed himself to assess the feeling of having the puffy garment wrapped around him. He felt oddly comfortable - safe, even. He closed his eyes again, brought his stuffie up so it was smushed between his chest and Mommy’s and allowed himself the solace of being in Mommy’s arms.

He fell asleep soon after and Mommy allowed him to break the rule of never skipping meals.

[bumbleberrysky]

alexa, play candyshop (bass boosted) | 02

pairing: gabriel x reader genre: soulmate au, canon divergent around s13, hurt/comfort, humour, future smut (probs) wc: 3.7k rating: sfw warnings: same as before, wounded gabriel & removal of those stitches notes: the fire under my ass burns as strong as ever, hallelujah

You knew there was a reason some divine power brought you to the Winchesters all those years ago, but to this day you still have no idea what that reason is. It’s something you’re destined to find out soon though, especially when you return to the bunker after months away and find not only a new face, but one that belongs to someone who up until that point you’d thought was dead. What does his return have to do with the changes you’re suddenly experiencing in yourself? Will you finally find out the reason you’d been brought here in the first place? Maybe…

Chuck works in mysterious ways after all.

prev. || next

Much to your regret, your plans the next morning to continue being a nuisance to Dean are thrown in the bin at his decision to leave early and meet Castiel somewhere a state over for a case that the angel had found. Something about vamps in a mine or something, you’re a bit hazy on the details. You’d only half-listened when Sam filled you in upon your arrival in the kitchen, a good hour after Dean had already departed the bunker.

While you would like to say Dean is completely to blame, the truth is that once you passed out last night you slept like a log and didn’t wake up until mid-morning today, which classifies as a sleep-in of sorts for you. You love sleep, but your body is wired to wake up not long after sunrise, unfortunately. It’s that hunter lifestyle you love to hate.

Sam had huffed a laugh at your face when you found out you’d missed Dean, but otherwise had kept to himself with his healthy breakfast as you went about making yourself a coffee. You tend to be a bit nauseous in the mornings, so a coffee will be enough for you for a few hours. It’s likely your stomach won’t roar in hunger until a bit after midday, as it is wont to do.

“How is your arm?”

Sam’s question breaks you out of the dissociative state you’d slipped into as you sip your coffee, grip on the mug tightening in reflex. It takes a few blinks before your eyes focus back on him, a small smile on your lips.

“Much better, thank you doctor,” you answer, before mumbling into your coffee as you take another sip. “Despite apparent attempts at making it otherwise…”

Sam snorts, not even bothering to comment on that. “I’m glad. Did you have anything planned for the day?”

A contemplative hum escapes you, your gaze wandering to the ceiling. “No, not really. I kind of went hard for a while there, one case after the other, so I’m due for a break. Not much of a fan of burnout.”

Your eyes move back down, meeting his own. “I’m probably going to just hang back, for a bit. Recuperate. I mean, I didn’t get any injury besides my arm, but I’m just… tired, I suppose. Didn’t get much sleep the past few weeks.”

“Of course you didn’t hurt anything but your arm,” Sam rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his smoothie—you’re not a fan of the green tinge it has, but if he likes it then you suppose it must be alright, at least. “You and your stupid good luck. Dean is still mad about last time, you know. When he got splattered in monster guts that just missed you by a centimetre.”

The memory yanks a giggle out of you before you can stop it, almost spilling your coffee as a result of the abrupt movement. “Oh, that was good. I wish I had a picture so I could scrapbook it.”

Sam laughs around a mouthful of food, swallowing it down before he continues. “Dean would kill you.”

“I know, but it would be worth it.” You place your cup down, deciding it a better course of action than continuing to hold it and risking spillage. “Also, I know you think my luck is really good all the time, but it’s kind of just good occasionally. All other times, it sucks.”

“It kicks in when you hunt, though, so I suppose that’s all that matters,” Sam muses, flicking through an article on his phone somewhat distractedly. He hums to himself before turning the screen off and angling his body to you properly, meeting your questioning gaze.

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help,” he says, appearing somewhat sheepish. “With Gabriel.”

You try not to let your sharp intake of breath show, but from the look that flickers through Sam’s eyes you figure he catches it anyway. Your teeth worry your bottom lip for a moment before you can muster a proper response. “Alright. What are you thinking of doing?”

Sam adjusts once more, pushing his plate away, cutlery stacked on top; it’s only now that you realise he’s finished the meal and the only thing left to consume is his smoothie.

“Well, I’m not… entirely sure yet.”

You huff a laugh, attempting to regain a sense of normalcy. It isn’t that you’d forgotten about the battered archangel hiding in a room a few doors down from yours, but it’s moreso that you’d made it a point not to think about it so early in the morning, lest your mood be ruined for the entire day. Thinking of Gabriel… it kind of hurt. You’re not sure you’re ready to sit down and analyse exactly why you’re having such visceral reactions yet.

“I don’t think we can really plan much, here,” he says, features softening with empathy. It reminds you that when it comes to Hell and being tortured, the youngest Winchester isn’t as unfamiliar as you might hope. A pang of something hits against the confines of your chest at his tone and the passing look in his eyes; as always, there’s the useless feeling, the wish you could take away all the bad memories and experiences and make it all better. You know you can’t, nothing can, but you hate seeing your friends in any modicum of pain.

You suppose that includes Gabriel, if the sensations whirling within you at the thought of him are anything to go by.

“We’ll just have to take it as it comes,” you say, taking your mug into your hold and downing the rest of the drink in one go. “Alright! I’m gonna shower and then… I guess we go see him.”

x   x

 Unlike the Gabriel you were once so familiar with, this Gabriel is decidedly not fond of visitors.

Sam had gone and prepared some things while you’d showered and dressed, and by the time you reappear outside your room you hear shuffling from the direction of the library. Curious, you make your way down the hall, peeking your head in and blinking in only minor surprise at the sight of Sam, his shoulders heavy.

“What’s up, Sam-o-saurus?”

Sam looks up and gives you the closest approximation to a bitch face that you’ve ever received from him, clearly not fond of the new nickname that came to you on the spot like a divine enlightenment. He takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe, though, which is probably for the best considering your mission for the day. It would do none of you any good if he went near Gabriel while all riled up.

“Gabriel is, uh,” he clears his throat, placing down a sterile steel tray in the shape of a bean and small surgical scissors, along with a scalpel. Your gaze strays to the side and sees that it was the first aid box he’d been ransacking as you arrived. “Not very open to visitation from me right now. I think I might be a bit… bit big. He doesn’t really even see me when he looks at me, so I don’t think he realises who I am.”

You wince, trying not to dwell on the information longer than needed to file it away for later consideration. “Oh. Sorry, Sam. You want me to go see if I can bring him out?”

“Please,” the tall man says, gesturing to the tools on the glossy oak table. “I figured we could start by getting rid of those stitches over his mouth, if nothing else. I don’t think he has enough grace right now to stop infection so we should try and reduce the risk.”

His words sadden you, but you know the truth they hold. Your limbs feel a bit heavy as you push away from the doorway.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Gabriel’s allocated room isn’t all that far from the library, and the note on the door sticks out like a sore thumb so you don’t have to worry much about getting lost on the way (ignoring that at this point you know most parts of the bunker like the back of your hand). Once outside his room, something gives you pause though.

Are you ready to see him in that state again? Or is it that a small, tiny part of you fears he won’t recognise you, either?

Ridiculous of you, really. You take a moment to admonish yourself for the thought. If you take a second to factor in the difference in time spent in hell, even without considering all the time he was missing, Gabriel had to have been trapped and tortured for over a century at the very least. Centuries and years might mean nothing to a celestial being who has been alive for millennia, but over a century of fear and torture is a lot even for someone with such impressive mileage.

You shake your head, attempting to clear your thoughts and emotions so you don’t enter his room with an overwhelming aura. Okay, showtime.

A soft knock echoes as your knuckles meet the wood, a moment passing before you speak, attempting to keep your voice as soft and nonthreatening as possible.

“Gabriel? It’s y/n, I’m going to come in now.”

You allow another moment to pass before you ease the door open, blinking in surprise as your eyes are greeted by light—it seems the archangel has every bulb in the vicinity burning its brightest. Understandable, since you presume he wasn’t exactly kept in well-lit conditions.

For a second, you think he’s not in the room. You don’t see him anywhere, and you’re about a split-second away from turning and calling Sam when you catch a glimpse of something shifting in the corner, behind the bulky side of a wooden dresser. You think for a second that you’ve forgotten how to breathe, chest painfully tight, as you realise that the small form huddled and curled in the corner is, in fact, the archangel Gabriel.

You hate that you’d noticed him only because of the filthy scraps of material that stick out against the dark décor of the bunker.

“Hey, Gabriel,” you say softly, keeping the door open so he has a route of escape and moving over as slowly and cautiously as you can. “I’m just gonna come over and sit in front of you, alright?”

You figure that even if he’s not entirely listening to everything you’re saying, it’s better to announce what you’re doing before you do it, for his benefit.

Something painful ricochets off the inside of your chest as you grow close enough to see him around the dresser and you’re confronted with his beaten, bloody and battered figure once more. His gaze is anywhere but you, and the way he presses himself into the corner is like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. It takes all of your willpower to squash down the unexpected sob that catches low in your throat. What is wrong with you?! You need to get a grip.

“Oh, Gabriel,” you find yourself saying before you can stop. “I’m so sorry…”

The closer you get to him, the lower you try to make yourself in his peripheral. It wouldn’t do any good to startle him by appearing big and threatening. It makes you frown when you remember just who it is that you have to think this way about. It’s sad, you think. The Gabriel you’d known was prideful, glaringly bright and loud in his presence, both as a trickster and an angel, and that he’d been reduced to… well, to this? It made your chest feel heavy.

Slowly and as quietly as possible, you ease down onto your knees in front of him, doing your best not to rush anything. It’s hard—you’re a hunter, used to moving with speed and a sense of urgency. So to take your time and really be in the moment for each of your actions is definitely an odd change from the usual autopilot your brain resides in.

He doesn’t acknowledge your presence once you’re still in front of him, not really. You had expected as much though, and as much as he seems unresponsive you do see the occasional flick of his eyes in your direction before they dart away, like he couldn’t believe he’d dared to look at someone instead of the floor.

For a few minutes, you simply let him adjust to your presence, your company. Ever so slowly, you see the tiniest bits of tension ease from his shoulders, his eyes no longer darting around like a frantic squirrel. You take the opportunity to take in the wounds and sores littering his body, doing your best not to get too upset by what you see. Dirt and grime coats him in layers, and you mentally note that your next goal with him would be to get him in a damn bath.

It can’t be comfortable, sitting in all that grime…

“For the sake of transparency,” you begin when he seems like he will be open enough to listening. “I’ll tell you why I’m here. This is your space right now, and I don’t want to intrude on it unless I really need to.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze, but you sense you have his attention. “Given that right now you’re low on… strength, and not healing as you usually do, we need to take care of some of the worse wounds you have. If we don’t, it’s a risk of infection, and we don’t know how well you would fight that off in this state…”

You clear your throat, attempting to keep yourself on track. “So, if you’re able, we’d really like you to come out just for a moment, so we can fix up some of your sores. I promise that you can come right back in here afterwards, and that unless we have something really important we’ll leave you alone. Sound good?”

He doesn’t nod, doesn’t really move, but the way his eyes move to yours and hold your gaze for a bare second longer than you expect, you gather he’s not entirely against it. You offer him a smile, oddly proud of him. You’d seen firsthand how hard it can be to get out of these mindsets, even just for a moment. Effort is hard and that he’s making it means everything.

“Perfect,” you say, shifting in your spot so you can stand more easily. “Alright, I can help you up, if you’d like, or you can stand on your own if you want. What do y—”

Your hands had already begun to outstretch as you spoke, and you’re taken by surprise when before you even finish speaking his hand is whipping up to grab your wrist in a sort of monkey grip. You’re left blinking as you help him up, moving on autopilot. You expect him to release you as soon as he’s standing, but it adds to your surprise as he wobbles in place and retains his grip, if anything shuffling a little closer.

“Okay,” you say, angling your body and adjusting your grip so that it’s loose and as nonthreatening as possible. “Let’s go. Thank you for cooperating.”

Of course, there’s no response and he’s silent the whole way to the library. You remember that Sam is in there only as you approach the threshold, but unlike what you feared, Gabriel doesn’t seem to react too poorly to him like he apparently had earlier. Risking a glance his way reveals that actually, amongst the frayed and almost manic energy, he seems oddly… grounded, just for the moment.

Well, this is certainly going better than you’d anticipated.

x

“I went to bully Dean this morning, but he woke up before me and left before I could get to him.”

You’re in the process of cleaning the wounds around Gabriel’s mouth and removing the ugly stitches that have been sewn into his lips. As something to distract him as much as you from what you’re doing, you’ve begun chatting idly to the archangel, unbothered by the lack of response. Sam sits a metre or so away, researching for Dean who had apparently called earlier when you were coercing Gabriel out of his room.

Still Gabriel doesn’t hold your gaze, eyes averted as he leans forward in the chair for you to reach his mouth, but you can tell from the way his eyes occasionally flick to you as you speak that he is listening, somewhat. It’s enough of a win that you’re willing to take it.

He winces each time your alcohol swab goes over the entry point of a stitch, but doesn’t flinch away too badly. You’re pretty proud of him for that, actually, because it must hurt like a bitch.

“You got him yesterday, though,” Sam pipes in from the side, amused as he recalls your arrival. “Barely an hour after you got here and he was quitting and heading to bed.”

“It’s hard being so naturally talented,” you say, placing the swab down and reaching for the small scissors and tweezers. “I’m an absolute delight, and Dean should appreciate that!”

“Has anyone ever believed you when you told them that?” Sam asks, presumably referring to the ‘delight’ bit.

“Why wouldn’t they, Samuel?” you ask, giving the massive man a light spritz of stink-eye. “Do you have something to say to me?”

“Nothing you don’t already know,” he snorts in response, turning a page in the tome he currently has in his lap.

You bite your lip to hide your amused smile, turning back to Gabriel. You place your hand softly on his cheek to let him know that you’re about to go back in for the stitches, before raising the other tool and bringing it to the first of the thick threads woven through his flesh. Wincing, you try and snip it as delicately as possible. Now seems like a better time than any for more distractions.

“If you think I’m bad, you should be glad you never met my grandfather,” you inform the youngest Winchester, successfully severing the first stitch and beginning the icky job of pulling it out. Gabriel makes a muffled noise of pain but remains still, and you pat his hand softly in support. “He could stir the shit out of anyone, man. Like, I’m not even kidding. The bastard gene I got from him was actually watered down by the time it got to me, so count your lucky stars.”

Sam makes a noise of contemplation, like he really is taking the time to thank whatever powers that be— those apparently being Chuck, as you’ve heard— that you’re not more like your grandfather. Honestly, you’re not kidding—they really should be grateful. You loved your grandpa but you’d never met anyone so quick to stir whatever pot may present itself before them. An opportunist with bastardous tendencies, one might describe him.

In the silence that follows, you jump to another topic for the sake of distraction once more—you’re about to move onto another stitch.

“So, now that your mother is here, are you guys actually eating like normal human beings?” you ask, tongue pressed between your lips in concentration as you try to snip the thread as painlessly as possible by manoeuvring the small scissors. “Like, balanced meals with vegetables and shit?”

You hear Sam pause in the motion of turning a page, a scoff turning into a laugh as it climbs his throat. “What—homecooked meals? Our mom? Dude, she’s worse than Dean in the kitchen, and I really didn’t think that was possible.”

You pause your ministrations to face the tall man, squinting. “What? No way. No way is she worse than Dean—”

“We’ve had to replace the fire alarms twice already,” Sam says, meeting your gaze with a look that is full of both fondness and exasperation. He lets out a laugh at your flabbergasted face. “Dude, I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t seen it for myself. You’ll see, whenever she gets back with Jack. She can’t cook but it doesn’t really stop her trying.”

“Another terrible chef joins the ranks,” you proclaim dramatically, pulling the stitch you were working on out and going in on the next one. “Oh, to be able to cook. I suppose this Jack kid is our last hope.”

“He’s not even a year old, y/n,” Sam says, deadpan. “I wouldn’t count on it. Also, you can cook, you’re just lazy.”

You shrug, making a face; he has you there. “I will neither confirm nor deny these allegations.”

Once more, you feel Sam roll his eyes behind you—he should get that checked if he’s rolling them so heavily you can feel it yourself. They’re not even eyes that are in your own skull, man.

You proceed to pull shit out of your ass as you take Gabriel’s mouth stitches out, the metal tin to the side soon filled with scraps of thick thread covered in dried blood and muck. The exit wounds where the thread had been have begun to well with blood, the wounds agitated by the removal of the stitches, and you bring a new cotton pad back with alcohol to clean them up. Gabriel hisses at the contact, and you rush out apologies under your breath as you finish up. You’d forgotten to warn him, and it’s only something small but you still feel bad.

“Alright, that’s done,” you announce, mostly to yourself. You look over him, deciding which wound to treat next, when your attention is drawn to the way he seems to be shaking a little on the spot. He’s not as grounded as he was earlier when he sat down with you, and even though you have much more work to do you can tell intrinsically that this is the most he can take right now. Dressing his other wounds would have to wait until tomorrow.

You turn to find Sam already giving the archangel a scrutinising look, apparently arriving at the same conclusion you had. He gives you a nod and you let out a soft breath, turning back to Gabriel and offering your hands should he need them.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. Let’s get you back to the room.”

You can only hope tomorrow will offer the same amount of progress as today.

prev. || next

[reinahwanggg]

SuperDad 》 Kim Taehyung

♡pairing: taehyung x oc ♡

♡word count: 1,962 words ♡

♡warnings: it's honestly too cute, taehee is a sweetheart, this isn't a warning but just an adherence to everyone the OC is a person of color, i'll probably make a part two to go about all the details of how taehyung and taehee handled the 48 hours without alyssa, OH and taehee cried seeing his mom leave, just about it. mentions of taehyung not being around as much as he wants to. mentions of what seems to be separation anxiety. ♡

♡genre: established relationship, dad au, idol!tae, fluff, taehee is a cutie you just wanna keep, Inspiration from the return of superman ♡

♡summary: taehyung's back from tour and ready to spend the next two days, with his son, taehee. without his mother there, of course because it's show protocol. ♡

♡a/n: i got inspired by the many dad aus i see and read, like omg they are honestly so cute. also got inspired by reading a fic/ one-shot of jaehyun being on the return of superman with his wife and child and that was the C U T E S T. hope you guys enjoy, also, i added gifs as dividers because i did this on my phone and this is kinda long. credits to all the owners of each gif used ♡

the camera pans in on a sort of empty living room, a wolf gray sofa sat in front of the equivalently colored wall, a small black squared table is there beside it, and along it is a picture that is covered by a cute emoticon.

littered around the vast space are various cream colored tents, with camera lenses peaking out, various fingers and hands holding them. the camera then passes over to the television, sat on a small drawer, that has glass doors, littered with many DVDs and vinyls, and the seemingly 75" television is off, unsurprisingly.

it then shows the kitchen, monochromatic colors is the aesthetic it seems, as a modern black gas stove is there, with the gray smart refrigerator alongside the counter that separates the two appliances. there is a four slot toaster and a kettle on the aforementioned counter, and a little magnetic knife strips which held all the knives, tongs and spatulas that are often used. the cabinets are a brilliant pearl color, various cute stickers decorate it, some looking old and torn and others looked like they just came out the pack.

it then shows the lounge room and a bedroom respectively, before a dark room comes into view. the emcees had already asked if there was a new superman for the show, and wondered who the new family was. they adored the little height chart on the door casing, and the little furniture and things here and there. they even tried to figure out what the shelf of things were, since it was covered with another cute emoticon.

•~•

back in the room, a little head peaks up at the sound of the doorbell ringing, looking left and right, probably trying to figure out what century it was. then the phone rang and the little human grabs the cellular device in their hands, knuckle sliding it over, and it amazes the emcees.

in the cutest voice the little human could muster, they answer the phone.

"good morning, hello?" the little guy answers in english, and the emcees are practically digging all of this up.

the voice then answers, but the words is silenced. it then shows as the hair of the tiny human bounces, the phone is dropped, footfalls are quiet, yet swift, and the door to the room opens. the tiny human can be slightly seen, and they run out, before running back to close the door.

various camera angles appear, for how fast the little one is running past everything, and the human passes the living room area, taking a left, and then a right and stands in front of the door, then he moves to the little crate beside it and sits patiently. after a few seconds, it opens, and a tall man enters the apartment with a few suitcases and a duffle bag, another cute emoticon doing it's job as it hides the man's face.

the human is practically bouncing on the crate at this point, his round, yet sharp eyes creasing up, his tiny white teeth on display as his arms frail around. the man rests down his luggage, before pretending he can't see the smaller male, and looks around for said human being.

"dad!" the small boy shouts, and the emoticon is finally off of the male's face as he smiles, the signature boxy grin his fans has come to love is on display as he picks up the little rascal, and whisper shouts a little "taehee!" just as enthusiastically as the child had to his father.

the emcees are shocked, like genuinely, you could hear it in the way they go "waaaaaa. it's bts' v!" and it switches again, showing the superstar, alongside his glowing son, and a pregnant lady beside him.

the lady is a mixture of slim and thick, her thighs all packed and gracious as it presses on the seat and shows beneath the fabric of her dress. said dress is long, with a flowy skirt and a sort of baggy top, black as the base with various flowers, colored rose pink and sky blue, along the skirt, past the waist, and some on the top. the belly she sports is a big one, and she look like she was ready to pop in no time. her hair was dark brown and kinky, with golden brown tips as the curl pattern shows perfectly, resting on her back. her light brown eyes get lost behind her lids as she smiles, her nose is scrunched up, smile lines along the eyes and her lips is outstretched, the craters in her face deepens, the dimples popping out perfectly, and the little boy shows his own.

her caramel skin glows, just like her aura is, and the boy glows equally with his honey toned skin as well, as he sits on his father's lap, both of them rubbing her stomach.

"hello everyone, i'm Kim Taehyung, aka V from BTS and this is my family."

Q: How old is your kid?

"He's two and a half years old, but if we're gonna get technical, he's 30 months."

Q: How long have you two been married?

"Four years. We've been together for five, and got married a year into the relationship because i couldn't resist her in the slightest."

"Lol, likewise."

"I told you stop saying LoL out loud lyssa. it's outdated by now."

"iT's oUtDaTeD bY nOw. i do what i want tae."

the questions and the bantering went on for another minute and a half, taehee getting in on it to, and him and his mother verbally gangs on taehyung, causing him to pout.

"we were actually kind of hesitant to be on the show. for many reasons, obviously, but mainly because we weren't sure if we wanted taehee, taesung and taeri in the public eye as yet. or at all. i wanted to show them on my own time, wanted to wait until they were old enough to understand this world to decide whether or not they wanted to be known as our children. after a while, and with the help of my hyungs, jiminie and kookie, we decided to take part in it anyways. we hope you guys take care of us."

Q: Woah, you guys are having twins?

"Haha, yes. we found out during the gender reveal that the doctor forgot to tell us we were having two babies. good thing we planned to always buy double the clothes and necessities for whenever i get pregnant. i say that because this little beast is unpredictable."

•~•

the video then switches back to the house, with taehee and taehyung sitting on the couch, the television on, with them watching a show, taehee swaying from side to side with the music, taehyung singing along quietly, and they watch the show until lyssa exits from the room and pecks both of their foreheads, before going straight to the jù,kitchen.

she tells alexa to play an older song by her husband's group, and the intro plays as soon as the show finishes, taehee immediately running into the kitchen to help and sing along to the song. meanwhile, taehyung is in the living room, his phone in front of his face as he smiles softly, both him and the person he's seemingly on the call with is silent as they listen to the two on their seemingly daily routine.

"you want to help make the pancakes dylan?" lyssa asks in english to her son, and he peeps an excited 'yes mama' over the voice of hoseok and his rap for hold me tight.

she smiles at him, and they make the pancakes from scratch, him calling out the ingredients in english, and she helps him in pronounciation and correcting his mistakes with a chuckle and a smile. while the pancakes are frying, she kindly asks taehyung to go to the store at the end of the corner to get some hershey's cookie n creme chocolate bars and a jar of dill pickles for her cravings.

she makes sure they all eat, before getting ready and going to head out for the allocated forty eight hours set. taehee follows her like a little duckling as she slightly waddles through the living room, with a purse on her shoulder, and she shoves the car keys in the bag, before turning around and ruffling his hair.

"be a good boy for mama, okay? you get to spend two whole days with papa and your uncles! isn't that fun?" taehee does seem happy, but you can tell, deep behind his nod, he is secretly praying that alyssa doesn't go. that she stays with both of them for the two days, just like old times, but she had let him watch the show, and he knows that's not the case. when she turns to leave, taehee grabs the hem of her dress, and she turns around, meeting his sharp cognac eyes, and it looks like he was trying his best not to cry.

"oh, dee, c'mere," she starts, lifting him up in her arms as the tears finally fall. she knew her taehee as a strong boy, but there are times where he can't help, but cry. dad was always to the company or on tour for as long as taehee knew him, so he built a special relationship with his mom. he knew he promised her to be strong, and to be a big boy, for when she was going to leave, but he hopes, that two days doesn't turn into a long time, like dad sometimes does.

"now what did we discuss dee?"

"th-that i w-was gonna be a b-big boy. th-that i w-was gonna stay w-with dad un-until mama g-gets back."

"right, we did agree to that, but you look like you wanna come with me. do you want to come with me, or are you gonna make me proud and spend time with papa? he misses you, you know. every day, he calls, sometimes when you're asleep and he always tells me how he can't wait to come home and have you by his side. do you wanna let papa down? let mama down? let your uncles down? or are we gonna be a big boy and be on our best behavior to make mama, papa and uncles proud?"

"i'm gonna be a big boy. i'll stay with dad and we'll have so much f-fun mama, you'll want to come back."

"i'm sure of it dee. now, papa is in the room waiting for snuggles. you know how to work the phone, so call me whenever. okay?"

"okay mama. i love you lots!"

"i love you more than lots!"

"i love you more than your lots! have fun mama, but not too much fun or i'll be mad at you."

alyssa gasps, pouting a bit, before smiling once taehee plants a big fat kiss on her cheek and smush them together like she does to him. they smile at each other, before she rests him down, and she waves at him until she is nowhere to be seen, exiting the door and off to go about her day. taehee rushes inside the room, knocking on the door, before opening it in at the sound of 'come in' and smiles at his dad, running and climbing up the bed to lay beside his dad as he talks to uncle jin.

"oh, it's little tae! how's it going buddy?" jin asks, from the other side of the phone, and taehee smiles, the dimples making another appearance, before answering his uncle. taehyung looks at his son, eyes glimmering with pure love, as he thinks that he can finally spend time with his son.

[meflemming]

The Ghost of You, It Keeps Me Awake || Solo

TIMING: Present  LOCATION: Flemming Residence, The Woods SUMMARY: Miriam is visited by an old face. She doesn’t take it very well WARNINGS: Body Horror, Gore, Death

Or, a reminder that tigers never change their stripes, and Miriam is, was, and will always be the villain (even if it’s her own story). 

A glass of wine dosed generously with blood. A bathtub filled with bubbles from one of those strange, sweet smelling bombs that Morgan had gotten her. The cursed Alexa actually playing decent music, something soft and classical. All perfect ingredients for a nice day in. 

Miriam didn’t want to stay cooped up in her workshop, pouring over half finished products or cleaning bloodied instruments. She wanted a small break. She wanted to… oh, what was it called? Relax. She wanted to relax, and desperately. So she pulled her hair up and sunk in slowly to the claw-foot tub in her bathroom, feeling more than a little decadent. The wine was nice, the hint of iron bringing out the other, sweeter flavors. She sank down into the water until her nose was completely covered, leaned her hand back, and closed her eyes. She let the music soothe her and willed herself to thinking. This was a relaxing time, not a thinking time. She just needed a bit of a think-free time.

There was a half-finished drawing on her bedside table, a portrait of Theo as she remembered him. She’d been thinking about him far too much, lately, hence her need to not think. More than just thinking about him, she was remembering him far too fondly, all the good times they’d had together. Trips to the lake on hot summer days, going to the movies, candlelit date nights, whispers of sweet nothings in the dark. And he’d faked all of that. There had been no love for her, only for her money, what it could do for him and his rotten coven.

The drawing was half finished because she kept destroying them, throwing his face into fires and garbage disposals. Miriam knew that Elle had found the remnants of one shredded drawing on the kitchen table when she’d watched the house a few nights before, but her assistant hadn’t said anything, merely cleaned the area up and left Miriam a bar of chocolate in its place. Elle didn’t ask questions; what she knew about Miriam’s life was what Miriam had deemed fit to tell the girl, and Elle didn’t blab. It was one of the many things she liked about her. 

Miriam sank down even further into the water, completely submerging and chastising herself. There would be no thinking, not right now. And so she didn’t. She simply stayed submerged in the water, listening to music until the water went cold and the incessant sounds of the ridiculous teeny bopper band that she’d recently learned was called Vampire Weekend started playing on the Alexa, forcing her to emerge from the water to scream at it to shut up.

Reaching for her wine glass, Miriam was going to give herself just a few extra minutes before she drained the tub and dried off. Except there was no wine glass. Miriam’s eyes brinked open.

Theo was not as she remembered him. Rather, he was sitting beside her tub as she’d killed him. Half dressed, half skinned, pale, and with dark, sunken eyes. He’d died of blood loss before she’d even made it above his hips. Her first time skinning someone alive, and it had been messy. She’d cried, too, as he cursed her name to hell and back.

Miriam jerked away from him. Theo took a sip of her wine.

“You even drink blood pretentiously,” he said, his nose wrinkling at the contents of the glass. He smacked his bloodless lips with a bloodless tongue.

“You aren’t real,” Miriam said. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. She couldn’t smell him, couldn’t hear his wicked heart beating in his wretched chest. He was just another nightmare, a waking one this time, one that had tricked her into thinking she’d brought a glass one wine into the bathroom when she hadn’t. She hadn’t. This wasn’t real. “And I have no desire to deal with any more frivolous fantasy versions of you. Go away, Theo.” She stood up, soaking wet, and grabbed a robe before getting out of the bath. If she didn’t need a drink before, she certainly did as she avoided looking at him. He was just a figment of her imagination. Nothing more. Never anything more. 

“Oh, I’m very real, baby,” he said, his glassy eyes trained on her every move. “I thought, of all people, you’d know better than to not believe in ghosts.”

“Then you’ve finally decided to haunt me after all these years?” she asked. She laughed, the sound of it ringing bitter and hollow.

Theo grinned, taking another sip of her bloody wine. Apparently, even apparitions could grow fond of the taste. “I’ve been given an opportunity. I couldn’t let it pass me by.”

“You’re thirty years too late with any sort of opportunity, darling,” she spat out as she passed him, expecting to go right through him.

Except he was solid. His hand reached out and grabbed her arm, gripping it tightly, so tightly. Miriam jerked away from him, shocked. Theo held firm, his grin full of blood stained teeth almost reaching his eyes.

“I think I’m just in time, darling.” He leaned forward. He didn’t smell, but she could feel his breath on her cheek. It was unnerving. “You killed me, and that would have been enough, but you just had to keep going, didn’t you?”

“You ruined me, you--”

“No, I made you happy, you stupid bitch. I gave you a loving husb--”

“Bullshit!” She pulled away from him this time, her eyes flashing red and her teeth sharp, deadly. She would kill him again if she could. “You didn’t love me. You never loved me! You loved money, and when I ran out you would have left as quickly as you came.”

Theo sneered. “And I thought the Flemming family would never run out of money.”

“Fuck you!” Miriam shrieked, her voice hurting even her own ears. “Fuck you! You lied to me! You never loved me, and you lied to me!”

“And you killed me!”

Miriam looked over at this man, this corpse in her bathroom. Solid though he was, real though he seemed, he was nothing compared to her. Because, as he said, she killed him, and she could do it again. “Then we’re even.”

Theo got up in her face then. She’d forgotten how tall he was, especially when she wasn’t wearing heels. Neither of them looked as put together as they had in pictures. Her, with her wet hair and red, vampiric eyes. Him with his pale parlor and bleeding wounds. A ghoul and a ghost. Even in death, they made a miserable pair. At least, now, they both realized how miserable they were.

“You killed my family,” he said quietly, almost confused. “Me? I can understand me. But my mother? My aunts and uncles and cousins? Gilly?” His voice cracked, and she looked away. Gilly was still recent on her own mind, though it had been months. “They’d cared for you. They didn’t know why I brought you into my life, just that we all benefited from it, and they’d liked you far more than your own damn family had liked me.”

“They all deserved to die,” Miriam said, shaking her head. “They all deserve to die. All of you. Every last, wretched witch.”

Theo looked like he was suffering, and she took a sick amount of pleasure in it, even if her stomach twisted. It was just like when she killed him the first time. “And, what, Miri? You gonna kill us all?”

“Yes,” she snarled. She shoved past him into her room, and he followed, leaving bloody footprints in the wake of her wet ones.

“You can’t. It’s not possible. You can’t even leave the damn town line.”

“Watch me, you bastard.” She dried off her hair. In a flurry, she started getting ready, even though she had hours before the sun sank below the horizon, yanking open drawers and pulling shirts off hangers. She laid her jacket out on the bed, and he walked over to it, fingers just barely grazing it. “Don’t touch.”

“Why not?” he asked. “It’s mine.”

“Not any more.” She proceeded to ignore him as she spent hours prepping. Eventually, she watched him die all over again, and she looked away, unwilling to watch.

She strutted out, passed Elle, and drove off without a word.

***

Miriam licked her lips and looked over her handy work.

Far from her first time, she wasn’t nearly as messy with the middle aged alchemist she had pinned to a barren tree by her hands, her skin flayed from muscle and her muscle flayed from bone. She hadn’t even gotten any of the blood on her. Good. 

She kept her face impassive, stared for as long as she could before the scene in front of her no longer looked real. It was a painting from the Renaissance, a monument in the Louvre. It was ghastly and horrifying, and it satisfied her.

She fed off the scene before her, its pain and misery, just as it fed from her. 

When she was done looking, she doused the tree in gasoline and lit it on fire. After all, she was a witch hunter. All good witch hunters knew that the best way to dispose of a witch was to burn them.

That’s what she’d done with what was left of Theo, all those years ago.

She’d stay until there was nothing but ashes left, and she tried to tell herself that the feeling in her chest was pride over another witch dead. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn to see a gathering of people ready to welcome another of their own to the other side. Theo was among them. Gilly, too. They both looked away from her. She looked away from them, as well.

[andy-clutterbuck]

[camillemontespan]

a week at aunt olivia and uncle leo’s [part one]

So, @sirbeepsalot messaged me saying she would like to see a fic where Leo and Olivia have to look after Lily for a week, since they’re not exactly the most.. kid friendly of couples. So I wrote it. 

This is a one shot that will be split into two parts! So a two shot? All the fluff! 

@jovialyouthmusic @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @pug-bitch @sirbeepsalot @moonlightgem7 @emceesynonymroll @burnsoslow @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @katedrakeohd @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @emichelle @notoriouscs @be-still-my-aching-heart @carabeth @drakesensworld 

          **************************************************************************

Day 1

'Okay, so here's her books and her teddy bear,' Camille said, handing items over. 'Make sure she eats her vegetables, she'll lie and say she has but don't believe her, bath time is at 6.30, her hair gets tangled easily so here's the shampoo we use to help with knots and breakfast is her favourite Unicorn Wish cereal. She has playgroup tomorrow morning at 9am, it finishes at 12. Got it?'

Olivia was leaning against the kitchen counter biting her fingernails while Leo opened a beer.

'Camille, relax,' Olivia sighed. 'Lily will be fine with us.'

Camille winced. 'It's just you've never looked after her for longer than an afternoon..'

Leo chuckled. 'Don't worry yourself, hun. How hard can it be?'

'Ha!' Drake scoffed. He was helping Lily take off her coat. 'Spoken like someone who's never had a kid. Oh Leo, good luck, man.'

Leo gave him a happy shrug. Camille sighed. 'Any issues, call us.'

'Babe, you're going on holiday!' Olivia scolded. 'Relax! Just be Drake and Camille pre-babies. Get your groove back. Have you packed the vaseline I lent you?'

Camille blushed. 'And the clingfilm..'

Leo clapped Drake on the back. 'Go get her, buddy.'

Drake and Camille crouched down to say goodbye to their four year old daughter. They were going away to the south coast for a week to soak up sunshine, swim, hike and have lots of sex. Lots and lots of sex. It was their anniversary holiday after all.

'Okay so we'll see you at the end of the week, baby! I'll miss you!' Camille cooed, bringing Lily in for a cuddle. Drake then reached out and pressed a kiss on her head.

Lily was bouncing up and down with excitement. She was so ready to spend seven days with her Aunt Olivia and Uncle Leo.

'Thank you so much for doing this,' Camille said, giving Olivia a hug next. 'You're the best.'

Olivia and Leo waved them off before coming back into the kitchen where Lily was unpacking her books. 'So, let's show you your room!' Leo said cheerily.

He took her upstairs. Their house was very modern and minimal, white walls with floor to ceiling windows, a glass staircase and expensive artwork decorating the walls. It was, to put it bluntly, not a child friendly home. The sharp edges and glass was enough to give Camille a panic attack but she trusted her friends to look after her daughter.

The guest bedroom was white and minimal but with flashes of red. Red cushions, a red rug and red silk curtains. Lily jumped onto the bed and lay like a starfish. 'Comfy,' she said. It had her seal of approval.

Leo put Lily's rucksack on the chair. 'Okay, so it's nearly dinner time, I was thinking spaghetti with ALL OF THE MEATBALLS?!'

Lily squealed. 'And cheese!'

'A dinner for champions!' Leo hollered. He took Lily downstairs to start getting dinner ready. Drake had told him that she loved helping with mealtimes, though she couldn't do much, she still felt felt pleased when she was allowed to stir the bowl or taste test.

Olivia was helping herself to a glass of wine and jumped when Lily bounded in. She wasn't used to kids in her own space. It felt weird.

'We're having spaghetti and meatballs,' Leo told her. Olivia wrinkled her nose. 'Ugh, carbs.'

'Have spaghetti with us!' Lily cried. 'Pleaaaaase!'

Leo gave Olivia an amused look. Olivia sighed. 'Fine. But only a small portion for me.'

She sat down at the kitchen island with her wine and magazine, occasionally looking up to watch her boyfriend make meatballs with her god daughter. She felt a twinge in her heart. Oh god, sentiment.

'Now we're gonna sprinkle some oregano on the meatballs to give them a good flavour,' Leo instructed. Lily watched him carefully and copied him. She was sitting on the tall chair of the kitchen island with an apron over her body to protect her wooly white jumper and her blue leggings with silver embroidered stars. On her feet, she was wearing furry UGG boots. Olivia had to admit that Lily looked adorable. 

‘Hey, let’s play some music while we cook,’ Leo suggested. He turned to the Alexa pod. ‘Alexa! Play.. Wake Me Up Before You Go Go!’

‘Playing Wake Me Up Before You Go Go by Wham,’ Alexa said in her monotone voice. The song began to fill the room. 

‘Jitterbug!’ Leo sang, twirling around. Lily clapped her hands and giggled as she watched him. It was like Leo had turned into her Uncle Maxwell, who was the best dancer she knew. 

Olivia stared at Leo with a look of bewilderment on her face. Who was this guy? What had he done with her usually cool and sexy boyfriend? Since when did he like Wham?

She asked him that very question. Leo shot her a lazy smile and gestured to Lily. ‘Look at her.’

Olivia looked at Lily and saw that she was swinging her feet along to the music while sprinkling oregano on the meatballs.  She was in her element.

          *************************************************************

After dinner, Olivia took Lily upstairs for her bath. She studied the shampoo that Camille had given her for Lily’s hair. It smelled like lavender. 

‘Right, arms up,’ Olivia instructed. Lily raised her arms and Olivia gently pulled Lily’s jumper off. Soon, the little girl was in the bath, sloshing around in the water. 

Olivia poured some shampoo into the palm of her hand and proceeded to rub it into Lily’s hair. 

‘Aunt Olivia...’ Lily said, her voice questioning.

‘Yeah babe?’

Lily looked at her shyly. ‘Will you take me to playgroup tomorrow? I want everyone to see you.’

Olivia smirked. ‘Of course I will. What are the kids at playgroup like?’

‘Nice,’ Lily said. ‘Milo's my favourite.'

'Who's Milo?'

Lily blushed. 'A boy.'

Olivia stopped washing her hair and fixed her with a steady stare. 'Lily.. Do you have a boyfriend?'

Lily burst out laughing and ducked her head under the water. When she emerged, she wrinkled her nose. 'Ewww.'

'Lily?' Olivia's voice was lilting. 'Are you k-i-s-s-i-n-g?'

'Nooooooooo!' Lily shrieked. Olivia laughed and began to comb conditioner through Lily's hair. She wondered in amusement what Drake would say if he knew. She had a feeling that Drake would be the stereotypical overprotective father who vetted boyfriends or girlfriends with a shotgun in his lap.

'Babe, it's okay to like boys.'

Lily turned red. 'He's nice. My friend Violet likes Harry but he pushes her over which makes her cry. Katie says it's because Harry likes Violet.'

Olivia rolled her eyes. 'Ugh, boys. By the way, if Milo starts pushing you in the playground or tugging your hair, that's not because he likes you, it's because he's a d bag.'

'D bag?'

Olivia smiled conspiratorially. 'You'll understand when you're older.'

                           *************************************************

Day 2

Olivia got out the car and took Lily's hand to cross the road. Lily was fizzing with excitement - aunt Olivia was taking her to playgroup! Her friends would see her! She could show Olivia her classroom!

Olivia studied the playgroup mothers who were kissing and hugging their four year olds goodbye.

Ugh, if I ever wear pyjamas to a school run or whatever, kill me.

Olivia was not dressed in pyjamas. She was wearing black leather trousers, ankle boots with a spindly heel, red sweater and black leather jacket. She looked, if she said so herself, hot. 

They reached the school gates. The mothers turned to gawp at Olivia - for one thing, she was the Duchess of Lythikos, she was famous. They had met Camille and Drake many times but they always exuded an air of normality.. Olivia didn’t. Olivia looked intimidating, she looked regal, she looked powerful. 

One mother cleared her throat and went over to say hello. ‘Hi there. I’m Stacey, Milo’s mom.’

Olivia gave her a smirk. ‘Milo, huh?’

Stacey blinked. ‘Yes, my son, that’s him over there.’ She pointed to a small boy with dark hair down to his shoulders. Olivia felt he would become a surfer boy type when he grew up; not a Duke, no, but still good for Lily. 

Lily jumped up and down. ‘This is my aunt Olivia!’ 

Olivia extended a hand and shook Stacey’s. Stacey grinned. ‘Olivia, the Duchess of Lythikos! So nice to meet you at last.’

‘Charmed,’ Olivia said shortly. 

‘So where is Camille?’ Stacey asked. 

‘She and Drake are having a sexcation,’ Olivia replied. ‘They need it.’ 

Stacey blinked. ‘Oh, okay. Good for them, huh?!’ 

Lily had left the women to drag over Milo and another little girl with glasses and plaits. ‘Aunt Olivia, this is Milo and this is Violet!’

Olivia looked down at the children; they stared up at her in terror. ‘She’s my favourite!’ Lily whispered. 

Olivia smiled. ‘Okay, babe, let’s get you into class.’ 

She took Lily’s hand but was stopped by Stacey. ‘Oh, sorry, just a moment.’ Stacey said. ‘I was wondering if you wanted to join our book club?’

Olivia stared at her. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Well, we keep asking Camille to join but she’s so busy that she always says she can’t. We meet up every Wednesday night at mine for  a cup of tea and to discuss our Book of the Month, it’s just nice to get together without the kids, you know?’

‘But I’m not a parent..’

‘No, but you are now at our gates!’ Stacey said excitedly. ‘You can be an honourary member. Plus, it would really boost our membership if we had a Duchess join.’ 

‘Has it occurred to you that maybe I’m too busy to talk about books?’ Olivia asked bluntly.  Stacey went pink. ‘Oh. I didn’t mean to cause offence..’

Olivia smirked. ‘You didn’t, I don’t get offended easily. Tell you what; if the tea is replaced with wine, then I’ll consider it.’ 

Stacey clapped her hands in delight. ‘Perfect! I’ll suggest that to Jennifer!’ 

Olivia took Lily and guided her into the building, keen to get away. Why had she said that? She hated all that kind of crap. Well done, Nevrakis. You’re now part of the mommy set. Good effort seeing as you’re not a mom and you hate kids. 

Lily looked up at Olivia as they walked to her classroom, giving her a wide beaming smile.

Okay, I like one kid. 

      ********************************************************************************

‘Hey Liv, how’s it going with Lily?’ Camille asked down the phone. 

Olivia was reclining on the chaise lounge with her feet up on the table, drying her toenails that were now painted red. A glass of red wine sat on the table beside her, despite the fact it was 11am. 

Well, it was five o’clock somewhere, right?

‘Great,’ Olivia said. ‘Dropped her at playgroup earlier. I’m now part of their book club, kill me now.’

‘How the hell did they get you to join that?’ 

‘No idea. I suggested they replace the tea with wine, Stacey said she would suggest it, now I’m a member. How have you managed to avoid it?’

Camille laughed. ���I just keep acting like I’m an important person with very important things to do. They’re lovely women, honestly, I just don’t want to join the book club.. I’d rather stay home with Drake and Lily, you know?’

‘Speaking of Drake, how’s the fucking?’ Olivia asked. ‘Vaseline and clingfilm going down a treat?’

‘It’s... interesting..’ Camille replied. 

Olivia smirked and had a sip of wine. ‘You’ll thank me at the end of the week.’ 

‘I gotta go, actually,’ Camille said. ‘I just wanted to check in and see that you’re surviving.’

Olivia rolled her eyes. ‘We’re fine. You got a good kid, Camille.’ 

The two friends hung up. Olivia stretched out and wiggled her toes which were now dry and looking beautifully red. 

‘Hey, gorgeous.’ 

Leo came into the room fresh from his shower with his towel wrapped around his waist. ‘Ooh, nice nails,’ he commented, before leaning down to kiss her on the mouth. Olivia’s hand roamed down his chest to under the towel area, until she found what she wanted. 

‘Hey, big boy.’

Leo gave her a wolfish grin and took the towel off. He was all golden; golden skin, golden hair. His abs were chiselled and his shoulders were broad. He was a golden God. 

‘Come here and fuck me,’ Olivia said. Leo’s eyes darkened. 

‘I was going to.’ 

          ***************************************************************************

Lily was excited to finish playgroup so she could see Olivia and Leo. They were all she had talked about all morning. Olivia picked her up, and they talked about her day in the car as Olivia drove them home.  She then spent the afternoon building a fort with Leo. 

That evening, Olivia got her ready for bath time before bundling her up in a wooly dressing gown. Olivia then wrapped her own silk red dressing gown around her body. 

In the kitchen, Olivia poured herself a glass of wine, aware that Lily was studying her in fascination.

'What are you drinking?' she asked.

Olivia smirked. 'Grape juice.'

'Can I have some?'

Olivia laughed. This child was so funny. 'Sorry, it's adult grape juice, babe. But hey, wait a second.'

Olivia found a carton of cranberry juice and poured it into a wine glass for Lily. Lily's eyes lit up. She felt so fancy with her own wine glass. Much more fun than the plastic cups she had at home. 

The two of them settled down in the living room dressed in their dressing gowns and wine glasses in hand.

'Can we watch Peppa Pig?' Lily asked. Olivia shrugged. 'Sure thing, babe. One episode then bedtime, okay?'

Lily snuggled up into Olivia and they watched Peppa Pig, cosy together. Olivia looked down at Lily who was entranced with the TV show. This wasn’t hard. Why were Drake and Camille always acting like they were exhausted? Having a kid was a walk in the park. She’d have to give them pointers. 

After the episode finished, Olivia took Lily up to bed. She kissed her softly on the forehead and tucked her in, a rare display of love. When Olivia went to leave the room, Lily cried out, ‘Wait!’

Olivia turned. ‘What’s up hun?’

Lily wrung the duvet in her hands, her eyes wide. ‘Can you leave the door open?’ she asked quietly. 

‘Why?’

‘I’m scared of the monsters.’

Olivia sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Lily, there’s no such thing as monsters.’ 

Lily nodded quickly. ‘There is. They live under the bed.’ 

Olivia looked down below the bed; there were just storage boxes underneath. ‘Babe, monsters aren’t in here.’

‘Because you’re here, they hide, but when you go, they will be under the bed,’ Lily replied, her voice becoming high pitched with panic. 

‘Shh babe..’ Olivia whispered. She thought to herself. Sure, she could leave the door open but Olivia had been taught from a young age that to feel fear was a silly emotion and by keeping the door open, Lily was letting that fear control her. Of course, Olivia had a shit upbringing but she could use some of the stuff she had been taught as a springboard. 

‘Okay, wait a second,’ she said. She rushed out and came back in a moment later holding a teddy bear. 

‘So, this is my old teddy bear,’ Olivia said. ‘His name is Ernest..’

‘Ernest..’

‘Yup. Now, Ernest protected me from monsters all the time. He taught me how to be brave. He kept me safe. Here, take him. He will keep you safe. Now, monsters don’t exist but if they ever did, Ernest will sound the alarm! He will tell me and I will come through and protect you too.’ 

‘You will?’

‘Yup. Ernest watches over you all night. If he sees anything, he will tell me so fast that the monsters won’t stand a chance.’ 

Lily smiled and hugged Ernest to her body. ‘Okay.’

‘Now, I’m going to shut the door, okay?’ Olivia said gently. ‘I promise, there’s nothing in here. But you’ve got Ernest. Ernest is a good bear.’ 

Lily nodded bravely and settled down under the duvet, holding Ernest close. Olivia kissed her again and left the room. 

In the dark, Lily clenched hold of Ernest tightly. She then quickly moved so she was hanging over the side of the bed and she hissed, ‘If you get me, my aunt Olivia will kill you!’

She snuggled back under the duvet, feeling much better now. 

                          **********************************************

Day 3

Olivia had her kickboxing class at 8.30am which meant Leo was in charge of taking Lily to playgroup. Lily had insisted on wearing her pink ballerina outfit and furry UGG boots and Leo wasn't going to argue with that. Each to their own. 

He shrugged on his leather jacket and put on his aviator sunglasses. He carried her Tangled rucksack which was emblazoned with images of Pascal, Flynn Rider and Rapunzel as they wandered to his Cadillac, which was his second favourite thing in the world, after Olivia. 

Leo blasted the radio for them and they sang along to the songs as Leo drove through Cordonia to get to playgroup.

When they arrived, Leo escorted Lily into the building where the mothers were standing outside the classroom talking. They stopped when they saw Leo.

'Oh my god, it's the Prince..' one of them breathed.

‘He looks like a model...’

‘Do we have to curtsey?’

Leo crouched down to say goodbye to Lily. 'Right kiddo, I'll pick you up at 12.'

Lily hugged him tightly.

'Make good choices!' Leo told her. 'Don't do anything I would do!'

Lily skipped into the classroom with her tutu billowing around her. Leo stood back up, watching her go, until he became aware of the five women staring at him with their mouths hanging open. He gave them his lopsided smile and raised his hand in greeting. 

‘Hey there.’ 

He turned and walked away, shaking his head in amusement as he heard the women squeal. 

Maybe he should go to playgroup more. 

[sophisticauthor]

Profile: Callahan, Alexa D.

Description: Brown hair, Brown eyes, 5 feet 7 inches

Birthdate: September 18

Age at conviction: 16

Current age: 19

Birthplace: Rochester, New  York, United States

Current Location: UNKNOWN

Family:

     Mother: Alisa Callahan age 47 - deceased

     Father: Geoffrey Callahan age 52 - deceased

Siblings:

     Jennifer Callahan age 12 - deceased

     Benjamin Callahan age 19 - deceased

This file contains eye witness accounts of events related to and/or allegedly caused by Alexa Callahan.

Eye witness account by Victor Drell

Age: 37

Occupation: High School Teacher

  September 18,

     I never saw the explosions, but I heard them. My wife Mary called the police as I went to go investigate. We live two houses down from the corner, I could see the apartment building on the opposite side - or where the building used to be – in a smoking heap. A couple of houses around it were knocked around too, but the residents there seemed to be fine.

     When I got closer, I noticed the other neighbors start to come out as well. I climbed into the rubble hoping that someone was still alive. I noticed crushed remains of corpses lying everywhere; I wanted to vomit. One man was missing an arm and groaning loudly, so I called to the others to help move him to a place where rubble wouldn’t fall on him.

     One of the neighbor kids called out from behind me that there was a girl who was still breathing. I told someone to take my place with the man, and rushed over to the girl. She was still breathing. She looked to be about fifteen and was wearing a white dress that was all tattered around the edges, her hair was a little singed, and I thought she probably suffered some trauma from what seemed like a fall from the second floor. But she looked mostly fine otherwise, which in hindsight was a little odd. Seemed like a miracle at the time. That’s when the police and paramedics arrived and took all the living away.

     I learned later that the man’s name was Carl Stephenson, and the girl was Alexa Callahan, who was turning sixteen that day. I heard on the news that Carl Stephenson had died in the hospital and was taken by family for burial. But not that Alexa girl, she had no family left, and she was alive. A real shame, to have a bomb like that go off on your sixteenth birthday.

Report by Vanessa Bradford

Age: 42

Occupation: Nurse

        I was assigned to a girl by the name of Alexa Callahan. She had suffered from several injuries caused by the explosion of her building. The full extent of the damage done to her was: A few broken ribs, a hairline fracture in her arm, a mutilated ankle, and trauma to the head. She seemed to have landed on her left side, and somehow managed to save her spine and vital organs. She was unconscious for 72 hours after the operations were finished. When she finally awoke, she was mostly unresponsive. She played with the recliner on the bed for a while and just stared at faces for a long time. She didn’t speak to anyone; not to doctors or nurses, not to the other patients. She didn’t respond to food or water, and didn’t even react whenever we adjusted the needles in her arm.

     Many of us tried to coax her to eat or speak and she did neither for almost two weeks. Her doctor was beginning to wonder if we should be running tests on the speech part of her brain when she finally spoke.

     She asked me when she could go home.

     I told her that we had to make sure we had treated all her injuries first. Then she asked me what happened. I told her that authorities were still figuring it out, but it seemed as if someone planted a bomb in the building, possibly a terrorist attack.

     This made her jump up in a panic, she just shouted “It wasn’t!” Her heart rate spiked, and she almost tried to get out of bed. I calmed her down a little and asked her what she remembered.

     What she said didn’t make any sense. “People, people talking happily; singing, my singing, singing for me; color, lots of color, piled on the walls and the room; fire, there was fire and ticking. Tick tick tick. Incessant humming, thousands of bees humming in the walls. You can‘t hear it? Tick tick tick. I made a wish, then BOOM. Fire, fire! A little boy calls for help. Help her, help her, is she okay?”  

     I cut her off because she was flailing about and going on about nothing. She kept talking. Nonsense, more about the ticking and the humming. I tried to get her to sit back and relax, not to strain herself with the memory, and I eventually managed to get her to sleep. I remember she whispered “not terrorist, no terror. Make a wish” as she drifted off to sleep.

     I only witnessed one other event that was significant.

     A couple weeks later when she was being encouraged to walk around, we found that she would disappear for hours on end. We were deciding what to do with her, the ramblings hadn’t stopped and we were getting worried. Furthermore, she had no living blood relative that anyone could find. Meetings were being held to come to a decision. I was lucky enough to be personally involved in the discussions.

     She burst in to one of the meetings. I don’t know how, we thought the doors were locked. Her hands were bloodied as if she had cut them on sharp glass or metal or something. She took a seat at the table with us and said something odd.

      “I realize that I am the main subject of these meetings. And I feel obligated to put my two cents in.” Then she dropped two gears on the table, like they were the two cents she was putting in. I don’t know where they came from, but they were covered in the blood from her hands. A couple of us stood to try to help her back to bed. But she waved us off and insisted that she needed to continue speaking. She said “I’m not yet so far gone that I don’t know what is happening.” And then something like “I have completely lost all relatives, I am underage, and I’m raving mad.” And she dropped another gear on the table for each thing she listed. Her grammar would get all jumbled up, because I remember she said “I would think it advisable that under any circumstances you do NOT create me another family. I could not handle an artificial mother.” Which was worth four gears for some reason. At this point, we were starting to realize that these were clock parts. And then she told us that she didn’t want to be sent back into society, that she was too crazy and too dangerous before dumping the rest of her bloodied clock parts onto the table. We wanted to stop her, but I think we were all too shocked.

     She started to rearrange them in some order and I remember she said “But time is running out, and you really need to come to a decision” Then she pulled out two clock hands and placed them in the center of her bizarre pile. Then she wrote “tick, tick, tick,” on the table in her own blood, stood up and said “Thank you for your time” like she had just asked for a little favor, not made a mess of the table.

     I have never seen a transfer report go through more quickly.

 On October 23 Alexa was transferred to The New York Psychiatric Institute, and then by an anonymous request, to Castle Facilities in Virginia. The transaction of this was only documented once. The only legitimate information recovered from this document was the location and the date she was moved (February 15).

She remained at Castle facilities for about two years, until authorities started to take an interest in her case and launched an investigation. However by the time they arrived at Castle facilities, Miss Callahan was unable to be found.

At the alleged location of Castle facilities only ruins were found. It was apparent that the site had not been visited for many months. The building was demolished in a way that was similar to the explosion at the Callahan residence.

This leads authorities to believe that the explosions were caused by the same person. Suspects include: Alexa Callahan (missing), Justin Carter (missing), or Jamie Lucas (deceased).

At the site of the wreckage, few pieces of information were recovered. However, there was one piece pertaining to this case that proved to be interesting. A badly documented journal by Dr. Harvey Lancaster (deceased) containing vital information about the Callahan case.

Much of this journal is either missing or illegible. Therefore, the following information contains errors and assumed information. The following information is paraphrased, not quoted, and only vital information was inputted. The full copy of Dr. Harvey Lancaster is not available for viewing.

Information is as follows:

1.   Alexa Callahan has a strange fascination with clocks. She is known to either disassemble the clocks, or to change the time inaccurately. The number that she chooses seems well thought out and precise and she changes every clock to the same time, though it is inaccurate. She attempts to change all clocks at once. Every attempt at this results in a different time. The purpose of this behavior is unknown.

2.   Alexa Callahan had no apparent intentions of harming the other patients or facility employees.

3.   Alexa Callahan has moments of near sanity where she would stop her mumblings of clocks and ticking and the end of the world where she will occasionally ask about her family or the facility. During these states of mind she would frequently ask about her friends Jamie Lucas and Justin Carter. Both Carter and Lucas came to visit Alexa in the Castle exactly twice, but not at the same time.

4.   Alexa refuses, under any circumstances to believe that she is wrong in her ramblings, though she will admit to the doctors that she is insane.

5.   Intense flashes of light, fire, loud noises, and shaking or sliding scare Alexa. She afterwards falls into a bout of crazed, relieved laughter, and more rambling about ticking.

6.   Alexa can accurately tell the time without consulting a time piece. It is unknown how she is able to do this, but it is not any of the conventional methods.

7.   Alexa made many references to the fall of the kingdom and gave an exact time, down to seconds, of the alleged time. - As a discovery not recorded in the journal of Dr. Harvey, it seems that this number led to the explosion of the mental ward.

8.   All ramblings about the past from before the explosion are real memories, not stories of her own invention.

9.   She is unable to walk in a straight line; her movement pattern sways back and forth.

10. She is able to recognize people and speak clearly with them. She seldom mistakes the identities of people around her.

11. She avoids all effort to make social interactions, however is not fearful when approached.

12. She enjoys acronyms, puzzles, word games, and brain teasers.

13. She fights most attempts at physical and eye contact.

 An investigation was launched to find any survivors of the explosion. 15 recorded patients were reported alive. Eight patients were discovered in a nearby town (about 13 miles away). Local authorities had discovered the patients and were housing them while awaiting orders of what to do. Six of the seven remaining patients were recovered in the woods surrounding Castle facilities.

Alexa Callahan, the only unrecovered patient, is theorized to have fled to the woods surrounding Castle facilities. No bodies or sightings that match her description have been reported, leading authorities to believe she is still at large.

Authorities have lost all trails but refuse to give up the search.

Alexa Callahan is suspected for murder and terrorism. If identified, it is recommended that authorities are alerted immediately so that she may be taken into custody.

 Do not try to approach, converse with, or make eye contact with Alexa Callahan. It is uncertain how she will react.

 Do not flash lights or light fires in her presence; she is known to react violently.

 Do not try to detain Alexa Callahan alone, she is known to be violent when angered.

 TAKE CAUTION.

 If Interaction is unavoidable, refrain from sudden movements, physical contact, and eye contact.

 If conversation is unavoidable, keep voice at a low register and avoid any loud noises.

 If she begins to make a countdown, inform authorities immediately. If this action is not an option, remove yourself from the vicinity. Countdowns from Alexa Callahan seldom lead to anything less than disaster.

 If these guidelines are not heeded . . . god save you.

[chwrpg]

Murray, I have asked you repeatedly not to call me "woman".

A NOTE FROM ADMIN R: Oh, oh, oh ! Y’all don’t know how happy I am to be accepting this application. Dylan is truly one of my CHW faves and to have her taken up by you, Cailin... that’s just an honor. I can not wait to see what you do with her, but I know one thing... this dash ain’t ready fro the looks Dylan is about to serve us. Thank you so much for applying and welcome back, love !

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

cailin, (she/her), 25, est

DESIRED CHARACTER:

queen mother, dylan davenport

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

8-10

SECONDARY CHOICE:

taylor flick

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

Dylan is shrouded in beauty, bold fashion choices, witty comebacks, and her daddy’s debit card. But the woman wearing the Amina Muaddi heels to 7/11 is much more interesting than her out of this world clothes. If Chanel’s head is in the clouds, Dylan’s feet are planted on the ground. She’s the fuel to the fire, the one who gets shit done. Things don’t move without her — and that includes the fashion scene in Rosewood. Dylan could’ve been a surgeon, she has the brains and attention to detail for it, but, you see, what Dylan says or doesn’t say goes. She predicted high waist jeans making a comeback before Vogue did, telling the girls one day during first period. So she’s a bit of a culture oracle. It’s why people care about what she’s thinking, who she’s endorsing, what designers she’s buying. They even want to know what she’s watching on a monday night. Her confidence and sincerity is inspiring. When she’s not taste making though, she’s the loyalest, most straightforward friend you can find in her tax bracket. Balancing the thin line between being no-nonsense and fun to be around. She does it well, though. In fact, she does most things well (driving not included.)‌ Her peers boast about her style and charisma, her professors brag about her work ethic and creativity, her boyfriend….well, her love life is a tumultuous roller coaster but every icon needs a fixer upper. Plus she gets diamonds every time he fumbles.

SAMPLE WRITING:

( Alexa, play Daddy )

The day Dylan was born she became a daddy’s girl. Stevie Wonder could see it. Dada was her first word much to her mother’s chagrin. He never raised his voice at her, never got impatient with her when she spilled her juice or threw her food. He got up in the middle of the night so his wife wouldn’t have to even though he had meetings at 7 in the morning. It didn’t stop there, though. Mr. Davenport didn’t put her down at parties. He carried her around on his hip as he mingled and held court, demanding on no one use baby talk for his brilliant baby girl. “She’s smart like her mom.” He would say to his captivated audience. For her third birthday he rented out an entire amusement park. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t yet tall enough to ride the rides, she had asked for it so he made it happen. He was a doer and a fixer, but he wasn’t perfect. Mr. Davenport had always been a better father and provider than a husband.

So, when she was five, her parents went through a nasty divorce. The papers their lawyers drew up cited irreconcilable differences but she’d come to realize, many years later, that was just how rich people skirted around the truth in hopes of keeping people out of their business. In truth, Mr. Davenport had spent the better part of his career sleeping with secretaries, temps, and clients. Basically anything that was of age and not nailed down. Mrs. Davenport had only grown tired of it after watching Halle Berry cry over Eric Benet  on Oprah. But like she’d taught  Dylan, Mrs. Davenport thought three steps ahead, and had arranged to have a cheating clause in their prenup. She saw the board before she’d even stepped foot on it. And, Sure, they’d been in love when they got married at twenty three, but a cheater never changed its spots, just his lies. In an instant, she got half of everything. Twenty percent of his future earnings, and 360 lipo for a girls trip to Maui to celebrate her emancipation.

All Dylan got out of the deal was two houses, two birthdays, two Christmases, two cars she still couldn’t drive when she turned sixteen. The court awarded them joint custody, ruling they both had enough sense to figure out the schedule on their own. But since that was the year her mom went back to school for her PhD, Dylan spent the majority of her time with her dad and a nanny. Those double holidays also served as a good distraction from the heartbreak she couldn’t explain. Though she was sharp as a whip and actually funny, not laugh because it’s a kid funny, but really funny, she still couldn’t wrap her little mind around why her parents drove to separate houses at the end of the night now. At all those parties, what stuck out the most was everyone saying what a handsome couple they were, how lucky they were to have another. They danced and laughed. They seemed so happy. But looks are deceiving and lucky for her, the loneliest year of her young life was also the year she met her best friend.

( Alexa, play Wannabe )

Dylan and Chanel became an instant package deal, and she thanked her father for not being able to keep his dick out of seedy holes because she wouldn’t have went to school in another district if her mom hadn’t won the house in the divorce, and she wouldn’t have sat down next to Chanel at show and tell, and they wouldn’t have bonded over their pretty dresses, or shared their organic apple juice. God worked in mysterious ways like that. She had a partner for life, and nothing came between them. Not even boys. And, despite having the power to date any eligible bachelor in her grade, she really liked one in particular.

The day she brought Paxton home her took one look at him and chuckled. Dylan figured it was because of the grill he hadn’t learned to talk without slurring with yet, but her mother had other ideas. “He reminds me of your father.” She said, long after he’d gone home, but not before Dylan spent fifteen minutes walking him to his car. The driveway was super long but her lipstick was nonexistent when she returned. That didn’t matter though, because Dylan knew what that meant. Her mom thought Paxton was charming, likable, handsome — but she also knew he was a liar and a dog. They argued for well over an hour, and she said some things she regretted but that’s what teenage girls did, they rebelled against becoming their mother all while doing so. She didn’t realize just how much he was like her father until she caught him DMing other girls on instagram and got a diamond necklace out of the deal. Still, it was clear that he could shoot a man in broad daylight and she would always be daddy’s little girl, nothing could change that.

“Daddy!” Dylan whined, clinging to her dad’s arm as they traipsed through another commercial property with their real estate agent. Today was the day she was finally going to buck up and switch locations from her dad’s pool house to an office space in scenic, downtown Rosewood. Being interviewed by magazines had been life changing, sitting front row of the hottest runways next to A-listers had its perks, doing a skincare routine video for vogue was dope, but expanding her business because the calls wouldn’t stop coming in to be styled be Dylan and her associates? That was something she’d done herself from the ground up. She’d started with styling her friends and now she was going to style the world.

( Alexa, play Successful )

Her heels were tall enough to greet God but she still only reached his shoulder. “I hope this one has vaulted ceilings.” Her tone was way past passive aggressive. She would’ve dialed it back had their agent not been set to make serious bank off of this, but had only been showing them office spaces with disgusting lighting and rude doormen. For all of their sakes, she hoped this one was better. “I need two sessions of hot yoga after the last mess you showed us, at least. My chakras are all out of wack now. Thanks a lot, A.” She was being dramatic but her dad didn’t stop her. He just smiled that infamous smile at the agent and excused himself to the back of the elevator to take a call. Dylan rolled her eyes when she caught their real estate agent, Angela, fawning. She was a slender woman with the proportion of a fashion model who only modeled in theory, never practice. With cropped hair and full lips. She’d been their families real estate agent for decades, found the house her mom had one in the divorce, but Dylan couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d slept with her dad while he was married to her mom, and for that she hated her.

The light dinged to signal they were at their floor, and the elevator doors slid open. When she bothered lifting them from a lengthy text she was typing to her beau, her eyes lit up like when her dad gifted her a patek for her eighteenth, or the G-Wagon that was still collecting dust in the garage for her sixteenth. Whatever the occasion was, she was aglow just like then. The floors were European oak, all the walls were white sans a charcoal accent wall that would be the space of her future desk, and yes, the ceilings were vaulted with windows to match. It was beyond.

“Daddy!” She squealed, running around the space and dreaming up renovation ideas. “This is the one. It’s, like, perfect.” Dylan ignored the real estate agent when she repeated the price tag. 1.2 million may have been a lot for some people, but some people weren’t his little girl and Angela should have known that by now. “Wait. I need to call Chanel!”‌ Dylan could bet she’d be calling Chanel the day Play got down on one knee ( What?‌ A girl could dream ) before she even said yes. She was greeted with a selfie when she unlocked her phone, tapping her chanel platform sneaker clad foot against the wood while the facetime call connected, “What do you think about staining the floor another color?” She asked before absolutely beaming when Chanel’s face appeared on the screen.

“I found it! I found the perfect space.”‌ Without another word, she flipped the camera and did a little dance when Chanel’s excitement nearly exceeded hers. She knew a squeal of absolute glee when she heard one, “I know! Ok, so Just imagine a chaise here, we can install some shelves here. Do you think we can get a Prosecco fountain?…” She walked her through the office like Angela had done moments before, moving out of earshot so her dad could handle business, while they discussed all the possibilities. “Today an office with a view, tomorrow Dylan Davenport’s Fashion Academy,” she beamed.

All her daddy had to do was sign on the dotted line, and she knew he would. He was, after all, her doer. He wouldn’t dare break that illusion…right? The journey from the bathroom back to the main area of the office space was a short one, and she was all smiles until she rounded the corner only for her dream to turn into a nightmare. Her face cracked along with the screen of her phone as it hit the ground and shattered, “DADDY!” She screamed. The sight of her dad and Angela kissing over paperwork causing her to gag instantly.

“Honey, let me explain…..”

There was nothing to explain. Horrible step parents was Jasper’s lane, not hers.

( Alexa, play Ring Off )

ANYTHING ELSE?

1985.

[meme991001]

The Black Siren Chapter 1

"Lauren's point of view."

'I can't believe she convinced me,' thought Lauren. 'but I can't exactly blame her. I haven't actually left the house since I moved to Gotham.' Soon I saw a red carpet and flashing lights. Then I began mentally preparing myself. I'm going to need it so I can deal with the paparazzi. It's the first time I'm going to an event since I moved here. Considering it has been a month since we moved here and now I have to deal with these vultures. At least it's for a children's hospital. That's the only thing good about the situation. Slowly the limo stopped and started to straighten my dress to mack sure its perfect. The limo driver opened the door, and flashes of light soon flooded my eyes, and I heard the press say my name. And I quickly smiled and posed for a few photographers. The closer I got to the entrance, the more the questions they asked me.

Some are about my dress. Some about if I'm in a relationship with someone, and if I'm dating Bruce Wayne. Considering it's the first event I ever attended since I moved here, it's a Wayne Enterprises event. We both lost our parents. So I'm not surprised by the question. So I just smiled politely and entered the building. It's a glamorous ballroom with gold accents, a gorgeous chandelier with crystals or diamonds. I can't tell, and a large orchestra was playing classical music giving it an aristocratic atmosphere. Still, I wasn't a surprise that it is this glamorous. He is the prince of Gotham, and me a huge playboy. The only thing that I found about this man that surprised me with is that he adopted kids. However, suppose Lexa's gossip is anything to go by. They are actually his biological kids, and their mothers abandoned them, seriously. In that case, that guy has to take in black haired blue eyed kids I don't know. My thoughts (mini rambling session) was interrupted by a female's voice.

"Miss Lauren Light?" I turned around, and I see a man and a woman with press badges. The man is tall, He was clearly muscular in a lean wrestler way with dark hair and blue eyes. They were covered by his glasses. Yet, he was somewhat hiding that he was uncomfortable in this atmosphere. While the woman was tall, beautiful, and confident. She has dark hair and eyes that look like pale violet in this light. She was wearing a black number and looked like she grew up in this world, unlike the man's stance. I can tell instantly that I like her. "Lois Lane-Kent and this is my husband Clark Kent we're from the Daily Plant," she said with her hand to shake.

I simply smiled politely, shooked her hand, and said, "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Kent, I absolutely love your articles from the Daily Plant" unknown to them. I happen to that Clark is Superman.

"Why, thank you, Miss Light, but do you mind if we ask you a few questions ?" Asked Clark as he and his wife returned the smile.

"Of course not, and please call me Lauren," I said.

"Great, is it true that the only reason you attend this event is because of Mr. Wayne?" asked Lois.

"Of course not, In fact, I had never met him, the main reason I'm attending is because of my sister. She said I need to get out more often, but I'm pretty sure that's not the only reason why," I said.

"So your relationship with Mr. Wayne is fake information, that's good to know. Mind our asking, but why did you choose this event?" Asked Clark.

"Because like I said, my sister wouldn't have it, I nearly did not come if it wasn't for Alexa."

"Who's Alexa?"

"My 16-year-old sister, who needs to figure out how not to mess with my life, and I can live it any way I want," I said as I crackled.

"I know the feeling," they said together as well crackling. I can tell the married partners are speaking from experience.

"Let me guess you both have a younger sister?"

"Lois does while I have I cosine who my parents took in, but she might as well be," answered Clark.

"Okey, the final question is it true that both of your parents and Mr. Wayne's parents were friends and were planning some kind of agreement?" Said Lois.

"I honestly don't know, my godfather said that they knew each other, but he was never told if there was an agreement. I only know that they never wanted a death like that, and wished it was different," I said.

"Thank you for your time, Lauren," said Clark.

"It's no bother at all, and please enjoy your evening, Mr. And Mrs. Kent," I said

"Same to you," they said, smiling, and I return it.

After that, I went to get a drink, so I went to the bar, I went to the bartender and asked, "excuse me, can I have 1 glass of champagne and scotch?" he nodded got started on my drink. As I was waiting for my drink, I noticed a man coming next to me. He was a redhead with green eyes and a goatee, he wore a suit like every other man here. Still, I can tell he enjoys to flaunt his wealth. Considering he was wearing a gold Rolex, it wasn't hard to tell.

"Hey, did it hurt?" the man asked weirdly.

"Excuse me, but what?" I questioned, feeling weirded out

"Did it hurt from when fell from heaven?" the man replied, 'oh, he was using a pick-up line, a bad line if asked me, but that explains it.'

"I'm sorry, not. I didn't fall from heaven, and just to let you know that was cheesy," I informed the man, not even paying attention to him.

"I'm Chase Azul," the man- chase introduced himself, "what's your name, Angle?"

"Not interested," I told him sharply and into the point.

"Come on, let me show you an amazing time," he replied, 'does he know what take a hint mean? Great, its one of those men,' i thought while rolling my eyes.

"Let me make this clear I'm not interested in you" 'you can't get clearer than that,' i thought as the bartender finally brings me my drink. I took a sip of it.

"Trust me, you'll have an amazing-" he was suddenly cut off by another man.

"Excuse me, is this man bothering you?"

"Bruce's point of view."

'I've never been more glad that the kids are all started a strick just to not attend an event,' i thought as just left a conversation for a drink. As I was walking to the bar, I see the most beautiful woman in my life. Considering I often meet models, royal family members, celebrities, and goddesses saying a lot. She has long, dark, slightly curled hair half up and half down, a somewhat tanned or bronzed skin that gives out a gorgeous glow. She was tall with long legs. An hourglass figure also had lean muscles hidden and gave her a delicate yet strong look that you don't see every day. she was wearing a brown dress with some detailing in lace. Her stance was confident yet agitated. Most likely from the man that was talking to her. for some reason, she reminds me of Talia. This surprises me as they while having similar coloring, are noting alike. So I went over there, and the man says, "Trust me, you'll have an amazing-" before I decided to cut him off.

"Excuse me, is this man bothering you?"

"Lauren's point of view."

I turn around and saw a tall, muscular man with gorgeous blue eyes and black hair. He has a sharp and chiseled jaw. I can tell quickly he was confident, and yet there a deep sorrow in his eyes. It took me a few moments to realize that he's Bruce Wayne. 'Man, was he sculpted by gods or something, no wonder he gets all those dates despite being a well-known playboy,' i thought before remembering his question. "Yes, he was," I answered honestly.

"Well, how about a dance to help him realize your not interested?" he asked, extending his arm out as he asked.

"It will be my pleaser," I said, taking his arm, leaving the glass and the redhead gaping. He leads me to the dance floor. He put other his arm around my waist as I put my other arm on his shoulder. "So you're, the legendary Bruce Wayne I've heard all about," I stated.

"Bruces point of view."

As I lead her to the dancefloor, I can't help but think how beautiful her eyes are, blue as sapphires or the ocean somehow dark and yet stunningly bright. I was pulled out by my thoughts by her melodic voice. "So you're, the legendary Bruce Wayne I've heard all about," she stated

"All good things, I hope?" I questioned

"Oh, you know the usual, how you date anything with legs, how you adopted a miniature army of dark-haired blued children. How you are unbelievably handsome you are," she replied. I couldn't help but wince at some of them. "Although the last one was not as exaggerated as I thought it was, and finally the most ridiculous of them all if we’re in a relationship." she continued. While I can't help be proud of the underhand compliment and admire how she stated them, she read at a tabloid. However, I can't help be curious about the last one.

"What do you mean by the last one? I'll be pretty sure to recall being in a relationship with the most breathtakingly beautiful woman I have ever see." complimented. I couldn't help but enjoyed the blush appearing on her flawless skin.

"First of all, I'm not that beautiful," she replied upon while rolling her jeweled like eyes as we continue to sway to the music. "Secondly, that the question the press asked me the most literally its what they concisely asked me. And finally, I forget to say thank you for helping me deal with that man at the bar."

"Firstly, you are that beautiful considering I've met a multitude of beautiful women it saying a lot. Secondly, why would the press ask you that question? and finally, it was my deepest pleasure." I responded.

"Well, number 1 is thank you for the compliment. And number 2 is that this is the first event I've attended since moving into Gotham a month ago."

"Why did you move to Gotham anyway?"

"Work-related and a much-needed change of scenery." she relied upon as the song came to an end. "Thanks for the dance."

"Your welcome..." I trailed off, trying to remember her name. "I'm sorry, but I can't remember your name."

"That's because I never gave it to you," she informed me as she walked away. I watch her leave her hips swaying. 'Damn,' I thought as she disappeared from my view.

"Lauren's point of view."

The event was halfway over, and I was surprisingly enjoying myself, as my phone rang. It was from Alexa. So I went to the balcony and answered it.

"Hey sis, what's up," said Alexa, and I heard some loud music in the background.

"Fine, did you throw a party?" I asked. Wondering if that the reason why she wanted me to go to the event.

"No, of course not, I'm at a friend's party. But don't worry, I will not do anything risky, and it's Molly's party," she reassured me.

"At least I can trust you, Lex, but seriously you could have just asked, and I would have said yes to you going to the party."

"I know, and that's not why I insisted that you going to the event. It's because it's been months since you been in a serious relationship, and I want you to find Mr. Right."

"Lex, you're too sweet for your own good."

"So, did you meet anyone?"

"Well, I did meet Lois and Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne."

"Shut up, tell me your joking."

"Nope, they're really here, Lex. I've just met them."

"Lucky, anyway, go find a guy. I love you".

"We'll see, and I love you too. Bye," I said before I hung up.

"Well, hello there, Beautiful," I heard and turned around to see a man hidden by the shadows.

"Bruce's point of view."

I saw the beautiful woman going to the balcony, 'who is that woman? What's her name? And why is she going there?' I thought. So I decided to follow her and saw her talking to the phone. I was about to leave, then I heard her say. "Lex, you're too sweet for your own good" what a minute Lex as in Lex Luther, then suddenly I heard her say, "Well, I did meet Lois and Clark Kent, and Bruce Wayne." It must be Luther. How do they know each other? "Nope, they're really here, Lex . I've just met them." what are they planning? "We'll see, and I love you too, Lex" Lex Luthor loves someone. I don't believe it. It's time to find my answers.

"Well, hello there beautiful," I said, scaring her, making her turn around to face me.

"Oh my goodness, you startled me," she said.

"My apologies, miss."

"Well, might as well as tell you my name, its Lauren, Lauren Light," said smiling beautifully.

"Pleasure is all mine and Miss Light, please call me Bruce," I said, returning the smile.

"As long as you call me, Lauren."

"Mind me, Lauren, but heard you talk while on the phone, Lex as in Lex Luther."

"Lauren's point of view."

Wait a minute, was he eavesdropping on me, "No, Bruce, that was my sister Alexa, Lex for short," I said with ease, I said," were you eased dropping on me?"

"Bruce's point of view."

That made things more straightforward, then she asked me if I was eased dropping on her, so I said. "Well yes, but only because I was curious about who you were, then I heard you mention the name Lex, so I thought it was Mr. Luther and then the names Clark and Lois Kent and my own. So mind explaining that"

"Oh, my sister is a huge Lois and Clark Kent fan. She loves there work, me too. But anyway, she always wished she met them, so I told her that I met just them, and Lauren, of course, heard of the legendary Bruce Wayne", she explained with ease, although the part with slite sarcasm. Okay, now I feel like an idiot for eavesdropping.

"I apologize for eased dropping on you. To make it up, how about I take you to dinner tomorrow night?" I asked, hoping that I would get to know more about the beautiful woman.

"Apology accepted, Mr. Wayne, but unfortunately, I don't usually mix business with pleasure." making me slightly confused about what business.

"Well, that's a good policy, but I think you're making a mistake here."

"I don't believe so, My Dark Knight, however. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. And please can you tell The Man of Steel congratulations on his anniversary?" she said before she left, leaving me stupified. How in the world did she know? I went to find Clark, who I know wouldn't believe it. As I ventured to him, I can't help but think about the mysterious yet beautiful Lauren Light.

"Lauren's point of view."

As soon as I said my last comment, I left him surprised, but I couldn't blame him. If I found out that someone knew my secret identity, I would be to, plus I informed him that I knew his and Superman's identity. As soon as I went to the exit, I saw my limo, and I entered it and asked the driver to drive me home. I texted Lexa, letting her know that I implied that I know about his secret. As soon as I finished texting her, I arrived at my building. As soon as I entered my penthouse, I quickly went to my room, changed into my nightwear, and went to bed.

Well, I hope you're enjoying the story.

[deepdisireslonging]

Family Found Part 30: Challenge Accepted

Some of the last pieces for Clash of Champions are put into place. The Reader wants Dean to help her out with a little experiment she’s running.

Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence

Word Count: 2080

Total Word Count So Far: 89,730

Note: Or as I like to call this chapter, ‘poke the title week’! I do it way too much in this chapter, but I feel like it’s the best way to rile someone up. Who doesn’t dislike getting poked? And I have a total count for the chapters! There’s going to be 50, so we’re over half-way through! If you’ve been enjoying the series, please let me know with a comment or a message sent to my inbox. I’d greatly appreciate knowing your favorite bits. Have fun reading this chapter too!

Part 1: Welcome to the Team

Part 29: A Dangerous Road

Monday Night Raw – December 3, 2018

Balor Club welcomed their leader as he made his way to the ring. Finn made sure to lean deep on the ropes, showing off his red and gold championship. Then he stepped through the ropes and accepted a mic.

“Last week was… interrestin’.” He started. “And Seth, I bet you have to agree. So why don’t you get out here so we can talk about it?” Waiting patiently, he smiled as the crowd cheered ‘burn it down’ and may have joined them. Just a little bit.

Seth strutted into the ring with a smile. “What’s there to talk about, Finn? We were doing what we do best, fighting to be the best man, and then our, uh,” he rubbed the back of his head, “our partners decided to flip the play.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Finn said. “They tried us, then we continued to do what we do best, and be the workhorses of this company. The best men. The ones worthy of the gold we carry. ”

Smirking, Seth had to agree. “We did good. Heaven forbid we ever get the tag titles in our sights. Or, sorry Balor, hell forbid.” But he shook his head. “Don’t let last week go to your head. We may be friends, but come Clash of Champions, we will be opponents.”

“I wouldn’ want it any other way.”

They both paused, looking each other over. Somewhere, someone tried to start a ‘hug it out’ chant, but it didn’t have the chance to run as Finn raised his microphone to his lips.

“I would have beaten you.”

Seth shook his head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“It’s not my sleep you should be worried about.” Finn circled him. “I have a feelin’ I’m not the one tossin’ and turnin’ because of how close some of those counts got. You may be the Intercontinental Champ ‘round here,” he stopped. Seth turned around to face him, flinching as Finn tapped the title on his shoulder, “but I’m the Universal Champ. The people’s champion. And I bet t’at just eats you up inside. Knowin’ I am more worthy of this title than you will ever be. T’at’s what I wanted to tell you. See ya at Clash of Champions.”

He nodded on last time, then stepped through the ropes, leaving Seth behind and not turning his back until he was up the ramp.

***

The next round of the women’s tag team tournament was the first official match of the night. Mickie and Alicia came out to the ring, ready to throw down and win their spot at Clash of Champions. Alexa Bliss came with them, dressed in a sharp suit to be their ring-side accompaniment. Bayley came out next. She laughed to see Alicia already mocking Rhonda’s punch-n’-bounce. But Rhonda Rousey music didn’t hit. Sasha Banks’s did.

“What!” Corey shouted. “How can Bayley trust her? After all the times Sasha has stabbed her in the back.”

Renee took over while he sputtered. “Maybe that’s why this could work. Bayley isn’t going to give second chances, and Sasha’s not going to be preoccupied with coming up with a back-stabbing plan. No plotting or looking over their shoulders. Just the goal at hand.” She hummed. “It might just work.”

They continued to debate the ability of Bayley and Sasha as their opponents did everything they could to break them apart. But the trio was so focused on distracting them, that they were distracted themselves. The friend-hate duo played into every trick, but in such a way that drained Alicia and Mickie. By the time the women realized it, Bayley had flipped Mickie out of the way with a Bayley to Belly, and Sasha had Alicia locked in a Bank Statement. Alexa couldn’t get into the ring in time to keep her from tapping.

Standing on either side of the ref while he raised their hands, they gave each other guarded smiles. The plan had worked… this time.

***

Backstage, Seth spoke to a techie, who pointed further down the hallway. “Thanks. Ambrose!” He quickened his steps to catch up to Dean. “Hey, man, do you know where your cousin is? She wasn’t in her office and I need to ask a favor.”

Dean finished off taping his hands. “She was coming back from a situation in catering.” He smirked. “Finn got under your skin again, didn’t he?”

“No.” Seth fiddled with his wrist straps. “Fine. Maybe. But I’m just as deserving of the Universal as he is and just as much of a people’s choice.”

“Alright, alright!” Dean held his hands up in defense, chuckling when Seth’s shoulders deflated.

“Sorry.” He looked Dean up and down. “What are your plans for Clash of Champions?”

He ran his tongue over his lips and tilted his head. “Dunno. Might just sit back and watch this one. Maybe I’ll text Renee notes on her commentary. Maybe… I’ll pay you and Finn a visit during your match. Haven’t held the Universal yet… and I’d love to have my Intercontinental back.”

Seth stepped back from Dean’s fingers ready to tap at the belt. “Don’t you dare,” he said with a grin. “We’d both kick your ass.”

“Ha, assuming I wouldn’t kick both of yours.” He shook his head. “But weren’t you looking for the other Ambrose?” He punched at Seth’s unoccupied shoulder, then twisted away, leaving Seth to once again stand alone.

***

As the runners-up for the guy’s tag team number one contenders, the B-Team had challenged the Revival. They wanted to prove that they could win on their own, and then take care of any distractions that might come up. The Revival was more than happy to answer the call, and they kept the B-Team on their toes. The longer the match went on, the more the Revival noticed something. If Curtis was in the ring, Bo was reaching for a tag. He was watching the ramp and the back of the ring. And vise versa.

Neither was paying much attention to their present opponents.

It cost them the match. Dash and Wilder rolled their victims out of the ring so they could have their arms raised in an empty ring.

***

Charly Caruso rounded a corner and almost bumped into her next interviewee. “Braun, sorry. Um, could you tell us why you’ve joined up with the man we used to know as Bray Wyatt? You’ve been a dominant figure here on Monday Night Raw. What do you gain by teaming up with Dr. M?” She held up her microphone, patiently waiting while he thought over his answer.

He gently took the mic from her so she didn’t have to reach. “For the past several months, my goals have been just out of my reach.” He crossed his arms, one giant elbow wrapped in a black bandage. “My best, my rage, it hasn’t been enough. Even though it got me so close. Now I’m a tag team champion.”

Charly nodded and moved to take her mic, but he held it up out of reach. She motioned for him to continue.

“Bray or Dr. M, he’s… healed whatever problems I’ve had focusing on how to get what I want. I’ve got another goal in mind. And I know he’s going to help me get that one to. In time.” He finally returned Charly’s equipment, then continued on his way.

***

“You want this.” Natalya watched herself on the Titontron standing toe to toe with Nia from last week.  “And you know what, I want to see you try. Next week. I’ll see you there, and I’ll see you fail.”  The video ended and Natalya focused her attention to the stage. “Well, Nia. I’m here. You want this?” She nudged her shoulder, raising the title. “Then come out here and get it.”

A minute later, Nia did just that. When the bell rang, they circled each other. They both froze as Ember Moon’s music sounded, and she walked out onto the stage. She made a show of walking just to the top of the ramp, then turning back towards the announce table and joining them. “Hey Corey, Cole, Renee. Thought I’d drop in and give my input on this match, if that’s alright?”

In the ring, the women went back to fighting each other. Nia had a height and strength advantage, but Natalya had the champion’s advantage. She dodged most of Nia’s attacks. And she rolled out of the ring, making the other woman fume and rage.

“Are you worried about this match at all,” Corey asked. “Nia’s got this opportunity because she and Tamina beat you and Dana last week.”

“Nope. Not one bit. “I may not have made it into the tag title match at Clash of Champions, but I am still going to have a title before the year is out. I don’t care if I have to beat Nia or Natalya for it.”

Natalya moved out of the way at the last second, making Nia run into a set of steel steps. She rolled back in the ring and motioned for the ref to count. By nine and a half, Nia was just getting to her feet. He made it to ten before she could reach for the ropes. They glared at each other as Natalya accepted her title from the ref.

As Nia went up the ramp to leave the arena, Ember passed by and gave her a little wave and a smile. Ember joined Natalya at the ropes, the champion not giving her the room to even enter the ring. No matter. She shrugged and lightly ran her fingers down the red and white belt.

“Clash of Champions. I’ll see you there.” Then she hopped off the apron and left with her head held high.

***

Dean bounced into your office and waited a second for you to finish an email. “Did Seth find you?”

“Yes he did, and I was able to help.” You shrugged. “And Jose found you, so I could talk to you too.”

He smiled, then clapped his hands so he could rub them together. “Who you got for me this week, Ladybug?”

“Well… are you okay with being a guinea pig?”

He stepped back and squinted at you, unsure. “Sure.”

“Great. You have a match with Drew McIntyre tonight.” Before your sentence was finished, Dean had cocked his head and leaned towards you.

“What’s the catch?”

With a deep breath, you bit back a grin. “I want you to push his buttons. Can you do that?”

Dean grinned for you. “Hell yeah, I can.”

“Win, and there’ll be a surprise for you next week.” You giggled as his eyebrows shot up.

“Oh?” He rolled his shoulders back and forth. Wiggling, even though he always said he doesn’t wiggle.  “And what would that be?”

“I can’t tell you, or it wouldn’t be a surprise.” You scoffed, “don’t you trust me?”

“It comes and goes.” You both laughed. Dean patted your shoulder before heading out.

***

He did all that you needed and more. If there was one thing that Ambroses were the best at, it was poking the proverbial bear. Dean just had the fighting skill to back it up. And the forethought to do it when the ref wasn’t looking.

This bothered Drew McIntyre to no end. He tried moving faster, hitting harder. But each time, Dean got right back up and did it all over again like only he could. The ref had to pull the Scottish Psychopath away from the ropes where Dean had dodged out. Behind his back and right into Drew’s glare, Dean smirked.

“Not all that without Dolph doing the dirty work for ya, huh?” He rolled completely out of the ring before Drew could swing a punch. He ran as he was chased and slid back into the ring. Drew tried to follow, but Dean left again, circling the other way, much to the amusement of the crowd. But Drew didn’t take the hint and had a chair ready for him as Dean came around the corner.

Before the first hit even landed, the referee was calling for the disqualification and naming Dean the winner of the match. Once the bell had rung, Dean turned on his own dark side and beat Drew down to the mat surrounding the ring.

“How’s that for pushing buttons?” he asked, walking backward away from the ring.

   Part 31: Sending a Message

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @southsidebucky @tinyelfperson @zuni21798

WWE/Series Tags: @a-home-for-stray-stories @amballins-priestess @top-1-percent @mother-forker @neversatisfiedgirl @racheo91 @roman-reigns-princess @secretagentfangirl @thetherianthropydaily @wwe-smutfics @scuzmunkie @likeisaidwhatever @cait-kae @ramsaypants @sony-undead18 @brianaraydean @st4yingstrong @dopeybubbles @crystallizeme @jessica91073 @denise8691 @stalelight @kenyadakblalock @1dluver13xx @lauren-novak @lunatic-desert-child @littledeadrottinghood @livelifewondering 

[ryujinzs]

desire, fic [s.s]

word count: 1.9K

pairing: sebastian stan x oc

warnings: age gap, sexual tension, bad writing.

last chap.

Next morning, the sound of the small river waves breaking on the rocks made Alexa awake. Slowly and gracefully, her body moved. Her eyes opened almost in slow motion, and she could see that it was already morning.

A smile curved his rosy lips as she remembered last night.

Sebastian and Alexa had an intense night where they had maximum intimate contact. If she concentrated a little more, she could feel Sebastian's hot, breathless breath on the back of her neck and the wet kisses scattered all over her body.

After that, the two continued in an intimate moment. They both dressed, exchanged a few kisses, but that was just it. Alexa's mother would wake up half an hour after a deep, heavy sleep with a smile on her face and happy to be in a great place with her daughter and her boyfriend.

Downstairs, Esther was making breakfast. Sebastian was sitting in one of the rustic wooden chairs as he watched her talk about some trips she had taken when she was fifteen, even before Alexa was born. As he talked to Esther, his gaze shifted randomly to the stairs and he saw a reflection, but when he stopped to examine what it was, his face warmed. Alexa was coming down the stairs with a pretty smile on her face and a flowered dress that reached the height of her thighs.

She opened a little shy smile and looked down as she saw the stupid and somewhat malicious smile on Sebastian's face. She ran to the mother on the stove preparing pancakes and kissed her cheek.

"Good morning, sweetie!" She laughed with her daughter's spontaneous happiness. "What that happiness for?"

"I don't know, I just have a good night of sleep." She smiled and sat in one of the chairs, facing Sebastian. "Good morning, Sebastian."

"Good morning, Alexa." He said and tried to hide a smile.

The girl was beaming and Sebastian couldn't take his eyes off her. Her skin glowed unevenly and he could feel the kisses she was giving her, or her soft hands touching his body. He couldn't forget last night. It stayed in his mind until the wee hours of the morning, and even if it sounded as wrong and disgusting as possible, he felt refreshed, well and even happy for the brief moment he had with Alexa.

Since discovering that Esther was her mother, his subconscious had already warned him that it would be almost impossible to live in the same place as her. That it'd be a hard and difficult game to be around someone so irresistible. Oh, and how irresistible she was. If the world were made only of sins, Alexa would be the queen of this world and well, he would be the king.

Between some glances and crooked smiles, Esther approached with breakfast and then after a night filled with lust, the two had coffee as if it were really a normal family, like tv commercials.

After breakfast, Esther let Alexa know they were going to have dinner at a local restaurant. Not just the two. But all three.

And even knowing that everything was heading down a wrong and vicious path she should not follow, her mind fooled her with lies, making her more convinced that this game she and Sebastian were playing would be good enough to satiate all her most insane desires of her wildest dreams.

At seven o'clock sharp, everyone was ready. Sebastian impatiently waited for Esther's daughter who was holding them all waiting. Esther was waiting in the car as she finished her final makeup, and Alexa finally finished, then passed the scarlet lipstick over her fleshy lips.

"Do you want more time? I mean, no one here is-" He was cut off as soon as Alexa's bare legs appeared at the top of the stairs, followed by a tight red dress. So tight it should be considered a second skin. But he couldn't help but notice how the color appreciated her skin and how she looked like an Olympia Goddess in such a simple outfit. "hurry..."

Alexa went downstairs and smiled almost naively, leaving Sebastian stunned.

"What were you saying?" She blinked like an innocent child and it made the man a little crazier.

"Do you want to drive me crazy?" He asked without looking away from her flashy lips.

"Did you like it?" She smiled as she wrapped her hands around her body. Sebastian looked up into Alexa's eyes and approached in one step, but enough to be inches apart.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't put on that dress just for me to take it off." He smiled devilishly, letting his charm affect Alexa in the lowest way.

But she smiled and moved away from him.

"But that won't happen." And he just watched her leave the house, leaving his eyes turned with such provocation.

The whole way to the restaurant, Sebastian peered at Alexa in the rearview mirror as the girl hummed a few songs from the radio. She knew he was watching her, so sometimes she made a point of teasing him, either by biting her lips slowly or crossing her arms, which left her breasts almost bouncing from the red dress. When he noticed Alexa's unexpected audacity, his eyes drifted slightly and fell on Esther, who kept talking and saying how happy she was with everything that was happening.

The restaurant wasn't anything fancy, but it was cosy and rustic as basically as the whole small town. The glass windows were panoramic and you could see the chandeliers and the lights outside. Esther held Sebastian's hand as they walked, meanwhile, Alexa was left behind seeing how distracted he looked.

They chose a table to sit on and as usual, Esther sat down next to Sebastian, leaving the front space free for her daughter. And something in Alexa's eyes was driving the man crazy. She looked so innocent but so devilish at the same time. It made him excited in every possible way.

The waiter approached, he should have about Alexa's age. A dark-haired boy, an athlete's body and a breathtaking smile. And the way he looked at the girl as soon as he saw her extraordinary beauty, was to make anyone dull. He choked on his own words as he wrote down the orders, and in a second he took his eyes off Alexa. Sebastian sat quietly, watching Alexa smile at the boy right there in front of him. And when he's about to leave, she bit her lip seductively, leaving the boy completely embarrassed.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Esther asked quietly.

"It was no big deal." Alexa laughed awkwardly.

"He's very handsome, sweetheart."

"Hey!" Sebastian frowned, pretending to be offended.

"But I only have eyes for you, darling." She kissed Sebastian's lips and Alexa raised her eyebrows, visibly uncomfortable.

Sebastian noticed the discomfort and liked it. She was enjoying playing, so he would do the same, only worse.

Dinner was completely boring for Alexa. Esther and Sebastian kept talking about the relationship and leaving the poor girl behind. She had finished her dessert and was rummaging through the cherry on her chocolate cake. For the last time she allowed herself to hear Sebastian's passionate laugh and woke. She wanted to leave.

"I'll be right back."

"Where are you going? We're already leaving." Her mother asked with her hands on Sebastian's breastplate.

"Don't worry, I'll just go for a walk." She stood up and without looking back, left the restaurant.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she felt the breeze of the wind touch her skin, leaving all her hair bristling and her skin prickling. Alexa turned her heels and saw the same waiter as before in the back area of the restaurant, he was leaning against a car as he held a cigarette between his fingers. Cautiously she approached the boy, who hadn't noticed her presence.

"That's really bad, you know?" She said almost sternly, and he pulled away from the startled car. "Sorry."

"It's fine..." he smiled faintly. "You're all right? You don't look well."

"I am, but it would be better if you offered me a cigarette." She leaned against the car next to him and the smile on the boy's face only increased.

Alexa remembered the 90s cliché movies she was watching. There was always that boy protagonist, so beautiful that it made any girl fall in love with just a smile. And that boy was just like that.

He handed the cigarette that was on Alexa's fingers and she just smiled in thanks. As he swallowed the smoke, he watched the girl's perfectly drawn face. He was rather typical of a man who liked hunting and who could be a good gallant if he wanted to, but Alexa was surpassing all his expectations.

"May I know your name?"

"Maybe." She answered slowly and released the smoke stuck to her lips, which was fucking sexy in the boy's eyesight. "If you convince me, maybe I will." She glanced at him and bit her lip. The boy, already delighted enough to want to say anything, took Alexa's wrist and pulled her close. She smiled faintly, staring at the wet lips of the man in front of her.

The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds. Alexa swallowed again and stood on the edge of the heel to reach the boy's lips. And as in a perfectly erotic scene, she released the smoke between the boy's parted lips. He closed his eyes slowly and pulled Alexa by the waist. Their bodies collided and he didn't hesitate to touch the girl's lips with voracity and despair. The flirtations had worked, and he'd managed to get Alexa's attention.

The sweet, unknown taste of the boy's lips made her lose her senses. Nicotine mixed with a little taste of mint was like the infallible blend, as in the clichés movies of the 1990s.

While the two were stuck together, Sebastian appeared and when he saw the scene before his eyes, his stomach filled with anger. Alexa could be a damn provocateur when she wanted to, and now she got him pissed off.

"Alexa." he said as dryly as possible. She pulled away from the boy and dropped the cigarette that was between her fingers. "Your mother is looking for you."

Alexa glanced quickly at Sebastian and at the boy. He just ran his hand over his lips and she walked away, as if she had done nothing wrong. Before even passing Sebastian, the boy who had kissed entered the restaurant and that was enough for the already angry man to hold the younger by the arm.

"What is this?" She changed her tone.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked with raised eyebrows and angry eyes. Sebastian's body almost touched hers, in that she could feel the heat emanating from him. Alexa bit her lip and looked into Sebastian's face. His beard was growing and his hair too and it made him incredibly sexy. "This little fucking game won't work for me."

"Holy shit, you're so hot." she whispered just so he could hear. Sebastian approached just to see if he was listening well. "You have no idea how wet I am now just to see you angry with me." She chuckled and shoved him away with one hand. "There are no games, Sebastian. There's only desire."

He saw her walk to the car that was parked across the parking lot and found himself slightly aroused and hard between dirty words of the girl he longed for.

“Fuck.” That’s all he said.

[riveliciousx]

I can’t get over how good Joe looks tonight

Alexa, play sharp dressed man