#the eyebrow covers a part of the upper lid the same way I draw it

[canisalbus]

doodle machete’s eyes (only his eyes cause I can’t draw t he rest of him) hope you like it :)

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[def-initely-soul]

hi there and happy spooky season! 🎃 can I have a smol fic with jimin and the prompts "please don't touch the human remains" & "of course, the graveyard at midnight is super sexy and not creepy, let's go there" from the supernatural list? thank you!!

hey to you too!! of course baby, hope you like it 😊😊

pairing: jimin from bts x reader (f.)

prompts: "please don't touch the human remains" & "of course, the graveyard at midnight is super sexy and not creepy, let's go there"

genre: supernatural au; f2l au; fluff; PG-15

warnings: mature language; suggestive themes

words: 2.1k

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“Come ooooon, we’re gonna miss it and then it won’t work!” you pout at your best friend as you drag him deeper into the dead of night. It’s Halloween, too late for anyone to be out at this hour and you bask in the stillness of the dark. It brings an almost serene smile to your face, knowing you’re about to show your best friend the one thing you could never tell him until recently.

You’re a witch.

Jimin didn’t know, obviously, and you never told him as one young witch should never reveal herself to a human. But just a week ago, he stumbled upon you practising a spell. Not much could be told from your part to convince him it was all fake. Not when he saw you floating.

And now, after escaping an extremely boring Halloween party, you promised him you’d show him your powers one more time. For good measure.

It’s the perfect setting for you; in the middle of the night, under a new moon and on holy grounds.

That’s why you’re headed for the cemetery.

“You know, when I said “of course, the graveyard at midnight is super sexy and not creepy, let's go there”, it was sarcasm, I didn’t actually mean it,” Jimin explains slowly as if talking to a child and you roll your eyes. His ass is so uptight.

“God, you’re such a scaredy-cat, you wanted to see some spell-casting and that’s what you’re gonna get!” you turn to throw a wink to his direction, one that has him choking on whatever smartassery he was about to spew. Satisfied by his lack of response, you begin walking again.

Finally, the graveyard comes into view and you can barely conceal your squeals. You see, you’re not simply gonna perform any kind of spell to make him believe you, no.

You have a plan. A plan which if successful could change your lives.

“Okaaaay, sit here…” you instruct him towards an empty spot between the graves and Jimin’s wide eyes are dancing through the space, shaking ever so slightly as he pierces his lips. Something that really is in contrast with what he’s wearing.

He came as Geralt of Rivia, dressed in a black shirt with the arm, neck and shoulder pieces, the matching vest, gloves and black leather pants. Of course, his blonde hair isn’t long enough as the character’s but it’s just long enough to be gathered in a makeshift bun.

Honestly, he looks mouthwatering and you can’t stop imagining what he’d look without the assembly on the top.

“Hey, wake up,” Jimin snaps his fingers on his face and with slight embarrassment, you realize you were lost in your thoughts. Thoughts about the contents of his torso.

“Right, yeah…” you resume as your eyes fall to your satchel bag, once again urging him to sit down.

Jimin cocks an eyebrow at you, but does as you say nonetheless.

“Okay, so what are you gonna do? Float again?” he jokes but his wavering eyes show you he’s not quite comfortable yet.

So you reach out your hand to cover his palm as his stare returns to you in surprise.

“It’s gonna be fine, okay? I’m here…” you comfort him with a kind smile and his eyes gleam with something before he releases a heavy breath.

He chuckles nervously, drawing his eyes away from you but his hand doesn’t abandon your own. “Okay, yeah…” he replies before taking another breath. “I trust you…” his eyes are once more on you, but they’re steady and certain as his plump lips give you a soft smile.

It’s your turn to swallow down your nerves.

“Good!” you say, entirely too cheery to be considered normal but Jimin doesn’t comment on your demeanour, thankfully. After realizing your hands are still touching you drag yours away quickly, mentally cursing yourself as you turn around to go through your bag for what you need.

“No, wait!” Jimin yelps, the sound too alarming in the calm silence stretching over the cemetery that it makes you jump in your spot. You turn to look at him with furrowed eyebrows and at least he has the decency to appear sorry.

He points his finger behind you and you see you almost let your hand fall through the hole to an open grave.

“Please don't touch the human remains…” he cautions and you giggle at his adorable demeanour. You thought you wouldn’t be able to find him cute and hot at the same time, but well. There’s a first time for everything.

He sends you a deadly glare at your giggle, staring at you through hooded eyes and, yes, cuteness is all gone.

You clear your throat before taking what you need out of your bag and assemble them on the ground between you. You don’t need a cloth for the ritual as the ingredients need to be in touch with sacred ground. You simply begin mixing your oils into a wooden bowl, adding a bit of the earth bellow you and some sage as you recount the spell you’ve come to know by heart.

Jimin’s stare on you is indecipherable, eyes intense and curious as your palms rise above the bowl. Your energy flows through your body, from where it touches the ground, up to your hands and into the bowl, making your hair move on your shoulders even though there’s no wind. Jimin’s eyes gleam as they stare at you in awe but you don’t let his stare distract you.

You recount the spell one more time and then everything is silent.

Which means it worked. 

“What was that?”Jimin asks breathlessly as you take the bowl in your hands and dive your fingers inside to gather some of the concoction to your fingertip.

“It’s a truth salve. It’s used either to reveal occasional health problems by applying it to any part of the body, as a magic detector by applying it on the lids, ears and palms or as a simple lie detector,” you answer him, showing him the thick liquid on your finger. He swallows the lump in his throat as he stares as if bewitched.

“And where do you apply it for it to act as a lie detector…?” he asks cautiously, eyes finding yours immediately and you smirk as you stand on your knees.

“On the mouth…” you almost whisper as you wipe your finger on top of your bottom lip. Jimin’s breaths turn heavy as he watches the movement with the utmost attention, instinctively licking his bottom lip.

“Do you wanna try it…?” you ask innocently.

He nods dazedly.

You drag your knees forward slowly, deliberately as you don’t let your eyes abandon his. Jimin watches your every movement entranced as if he physically cannot take his eyes away from you. Instead, when you crawl on top of him, he makes more room for you, removing his hands from his lap as your legs rest on each side of his own, trapping him beneath you.

Your knees are digging into the ground, your flimsy dress doing very little to ease the pain but you don’t mind at all. Not when the look in Jimin’s eyes only encourages you further, not when his palms are rising to rest on your thighs, dragging your dress in their wake.

You suck in a breath, as your eyes finally rest on his feature that needs the most attention.

His lips are plumpy, soft-looking and shiny, and when he bites his bottom lip in what seems like anticipation, you can’t help the shaky exhale that escapes you.

You gather yourself immediately, gathering more liquid on your fingertip before raising it towards his mouth. Jimin’s eyes seem to ignore the digit, instead focused on you, making your heartbeat rise.

You let your finger rest at the corner of his mouth for a second. And then you drag it slowly, tenderly across his plush bottom lip. His mouth opens slightly to help you but then his tongue peaks out. You can barely see it, just barely, just enough to see the tip of his tongue run across his upper lip.

You swallow down your nerves as you reach the other corner of his mouth and then you drag your finger away.

Now that the salve is applied there’s no reason for you to remain seated on his lap and yet you make no move to abandon the warmth of his body. Jimin doesn’t push you away either and if it’s possible you feel his grip on your thighs tighten.

“Okay, so...” you whisper, momentarily distracted by his lips pressing together as he tastes the salve. “I’ll ask you something you haven’t told me and you’ll be forced to tell me the truth…” you continue and you practically see him bracing himself.

You take a breath.

“Why did you punch Johnny Martin?” you ask quickly, not wanting to ask him something that’ll make him lose his trust in you. He’d told you it was because Johnny Martin picked up a fight with him cause he was drunk, but you didn’t believe him. Because at that time, you and Johnny Martin had just broken up because he was jealous of your friendship with Jimin. You’ve had an inkling it was about that and not some stupid drunken fight.

“He called you a slut because of me,” Jimin replies quickly and he’s eyes widen before he curses, his grip on you tightens.

Your heart makes a funny thing at his answer but you push that feeling aside for later.

“Okay, now that you know that this spell is no joke, I have to tell you something and you can’t, in any way, doubt the sincerity of what I’m about to say…” you say with resolution and severity. Jimin’s brows are knitted in a frown but nonetheless, he nods.

You take a long breath, although if you’re honest with yourself you’d want it to be a longer one.

Okay. It’s now or never.

“I think I’m in love with you. No, scratch, I definitely know I’m in love with you cause I’ve been thinking about you that way ever since we met in high school. And it’s driving me insane when you talk about other girls, or when you kiss other girls because I want to be them but I know I can’t, or I think I can’t? There’s some confusion over it and I really need to hear your thoughts on this so I can finally put my “what if” thoughts to rest,” you say rushedly and out of breath as Jimin stares up at you in shock.

“So…” you catch your breath, eyes wide and full of equal parts dread and hope. “What say you?”

Jimin stares back stunned, eyes glued to yours and blown wide in astoundment. His hands don’t leave your hips though and for some reason that makes the hope grow.

He swallows slowly, and you see the calculations running through his mind.

But then his eyes fall to your lips.

And then his lips do too.

You close your eyes once you feel the gentle touch of his mouth on yours. You abandon the bowl to wrap your arms around his shoulders as his fingers guide you forwards until you’re entirely seated on his lap. His lips are soft on yours, moving tenderly in sync with your own as if you’ve done this a hundred times before. For what you’re certain is that you’ll certainly do it for a hundred times more.

You’d expect his kiss to be rough, judging by your position, but it’s anything but. It’s soft, warm and loving, the way his lips move across yours, the way his tongue swipes at your bottom lip to taste you, the way he moans when your grip on his shoulders tightens.

You want to stay like this forever. To kiss him endlessly until he’s the only thing you can taste.

After a while, he stops to breathlessly rest his forehead against yours as his fingers draw circles on your back. You didn’t even remember them moving, the only thing you felt was his lips.

He opens his eyes to look at you through his eyelashes and then he licks his lips to savour your taste.

“Me too…” he replies softly and it takes all your willpower to not smile like crazy right now. Although judging by his joyous matching smile you’d say you were unsuccessful.

“Now, can we please go somewhere else so we can finish what we started...?” he mumbles, his tone entirely different now as his words sents shivers down your spine while he presses an open-mouthed kiss below your ear.

You smile wickedly at him before you nod.

[iwantutobehapppier]

Birthday Boy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Trying to make up for last years birthday celebrations you take Steve on a path down memory lane with some fun peppered in.

Warnings: SMUT. Unprotected Sex, fingering, oral, cock warming, choking, and cursing. 18 an older only, do not read if under the age of 18. This isn’t for everyone, if any of these situations bother you please read no further.

Word Count: 6,623

A/N: This is for Steve’s Birthday! Also to celebrate by participating in @sherrybaby14 Happy Birthday Steve Flash Challenge. Much longer than a drabble but meh. Unedited so I could post it in time. I’ll go back and edit it. Probably, maybe, we’ll see. Enjoy! Reblogs, comments and asks always welcomed!

Steve scratched the back of his head in confusion. Didn’t Sam tell him you would be here waiting for him? Looking around the deserted Avengers Lobby you were nowhere to be seen. It was the day before the 4th of July and most departments within the building had closed early for the day leaving a rather empty lobby this afternoon. A frown fell over his face, maybe Sam got it wrong and you were waiting in the garage?

Just as he start to head for the garage one of the exterior doors busted open to show a bike courier running in with a flushed face. He clearly had been rushing. Steve raised an eyebrow, placing his hands in his slack pockets as the courier stopped in front of him and bent over trying to catch his breath.

“For you Mr. Rogers- uh Captain Rogers,” the courier panted out holding a slim envelope up towards Steve remaining bent over. Steve eyed the envelope questionably before taking it from the young man’s hand.

“Do you need some water kid?” Steve offers watching him stand up straight face still red.

“Oh no, no” The young man barely a teenager by the looks of it waves his hands in front of himself.

“I’ve got too many more deliveries to make.” He took in a deep breath and looked at Steve with a growing admiration. “Can’t believe I get to deliver to you though! The Captain America!” Steve couldn’t help the smile that pulled at one side of his mouth at the courier’s excitement.

“Thank you for getting this to me so promptly kid,” The courier nodded his head vigorously.

“Oh of course! 30 Minutes Delivery isn’t just a company name it’s the motto!” Steve nodded his head seeing the same logo on envelope also on his shirt. “I gotta go! Have a great 4th!” The kid started walking off but came to a stop.

“Oh Geeze!” He turned back around to Steve. “Happy early Birthday Captain!” He waved enthusiastically and then turned to jog back to his bike.

Steve shook his head smirking, the kid reminded him of Peter with his level of zest. Looking back at the envelope he saw it was addressed from you to him. What on earth where you up to he wondered.

Ripping the envelope open glitter exploded out and Steve groaned. He should have known you’d do something like this. He shook his hands looking down to see his button up shirt covered in glitter, the creases of his pants littered here and there and the floor below covered with the craft product as well. He swore he could hear you giggling in his head. You were going to be in trouble for this, he swore it.

Looking in the envelope he saw a card and pulled it out, a simple ‘Happy Birthday’ greeting on the front, he opens it to see your hand writing instructing him to dress casual and meet you at Coney Island Luna Park by 6 for pre-birthday fun. He smiled at all the hearts you drew on the inside of the card and the cheesy way you put both of your initials with a plus sign in the biggest heart you drew.

Steve would be lying if he didn’t say he was relieved it was just an evening at Coney Island. Last year you and Tony had thrown him a huge birthday party he was not comfortable at the entire night until it dwindled down to the core Avenger group. Though tomorrow being his birthday you could always have more up your sleeve. He sighs shaking out his shirts and pants, feeling only slightly guilty at the glittery mess he was leaving on the lobby floor. You couldn’t text him or call him about meeting there no, you and Sam clearly plotted together on this one.

Looking at his watch he shook his head at the slight time crunch you had caused for him. He’d need to get to south Brooklyn from upper Manhattan not to mention he would need to change clothes entirely given the glitter and needing a more casual outfit at your request. Heading back upstairs he smiled wondering if he had enough time to fling some of the glitter left in the envelope on Sam.

-

You pulled your hair behind your ears as the wind picked up behind as you stand in front of the Luna Park entrance. You were sure Steve would like this much better than last year. Still disappointed in yourself for giving into Tony’s idea of throwing Steve a big birthday party.

Really, you knew better after being an Avenger for 4 years and with Steve nearly 2 of them, at this point you should have known it was a bad idea. Sometimes Tony was too damn convincing. When Steve had seen all the people there you could instantly tell he was uncomfortable but he played the part of happy birthday boy well and it broke your heart a little for him to have to fake anything on his birthday. This year you were determined to get it right!

This idea of a Coney Island date before his actual birthday came after he told you about how much he and Bucky would waste money at Coney Island. All the dames Bucky brought and or picked up while there leaving Steve the constant third wheel. Even with being a third wheel Steve never sounded upset about the time spent there. You had so much more planned for him but that was for you to reveal later.

An uncontrollable smile took over your face watching Steve stroll up the side walk in a pulled down cap, jeans and a tight black shirt. You licked your lips eyeing the outline of his chest underneath the shirt, he never knew how to wear a loose fitting shirt, not that you minded. Steve’s arms wrap around you once in his reach and pull you to him tightly, in kind your hand slip around his neck playing with his hair at the nap of his neck.

“Hey doll,” you smile into his chest at the nickname. “Hey birthday boy,” you muffle back into his chest. He kisses your forehead before pulling away to appreciate the light blue sun dress you wore with wedges giving you a few extra inches.

“You enjoy your card?” A sly smile pulls at your lips watching his brow furrow at your antics. “Everything but the glitter.” You giggled exactly how he imagined you would at the site of him covered in glitter.

“Captain America not a fan of a little bit of glitter?” He rolled his eyes at your sweet tone.

“That was more than a little bit of glitter and you know it. You’re going to pay for that.” His tone was gruff and your eye lids dropped half way looking at him.

“You promise?” You lick your lips at the possibilities. He stars down at you but was caught off guard when someone pushes past him, suddenly making him aware of your public location.

“Later,” He winks at your pout.

“Let’s start the Birthday fun!” You took his large hand in yours pulling him towards the entrance of the park. He remains at your side, intertwining his fingers with yours you look up at him continuing to walk.

“I’m not going on the cyclone.” You laughed at the grimace Steve gave. “I can’t believe it’s still here.”

“Are you jealous something almost as old as you still this sturdy?” You faced forward, leading the both of you towards the Coney games, knowing Steve for the most part was not a fan of rides.

“Are you saying I’m not sturdy?” He sounds almost hurt at the insinuation.

“Oh you and I both know you’re a sturdy ride.” You wink at him enjoying the faint blush blooming on his cheeks.

Steve handed you would be the tenth stuffed animal he had won for you. You had warned him to tone down his strength else he’d draw attention to him but he ignored your warning.

“I could never win these back in the day,” he confesses with a small frown as he hands you the giant stuffed bear in-between your already full hands. “I was too weak back then and I always wanted to be the guy with the gal who had all the prizes because her man could win them.”

“Oh Steve,” Your heart ached and warm all at once at his words. “I would love for you to get me all the prizes but I’m running out of room to hold them.”

Steve laughs titling his head back noticing your head almost covered by the prizes. Why did they all have to be giant stuff animals? As the two of you made your way to the next booths where he could win you something you started giving the current prizes to children passing by.

When Steve saw what you were doing he smiled until the corner of his eyes crinkled, overwhelmed at how generous you were being. It was one of his favorite things about you, never took more than you needed and sometimes even less than what you needed. The latter being something he would scold you for from time to time. You look up at him as the little girl you had just given the last prize to excitedly shows off the bear to her parents.

“Oh,” You seem suddenly unsure of your actions. “I’m sorry Steve I know you were winning those for me but it was just so much and I thought kids would probably enjoy–” He pulls you to him and kisses your lips gently, ceasing your rambling.

“It’s perfect,” he spoke pulling his lips from yours staring into your eyes. “Come on doll, I want to win you everything I can so you can give it away.” You sigh in relief following him to the next booth.

“Get me all of them Steve!” You cheered him on.

After winning you several more prizes that seemed to all be some type of stuffed toy you had given them all away except for one. Smiling down at the Captain America plush you couldn’t help but hug the toy to you as the two of you stood in line at a food truck.

“Hm, never thought I’d be jealous of myself,” Steve muttered dipping his head down towards the toy’s head pushed between your breasts. You pull the toy down but Steve caught your arm shaking his head.

“No no, I like it there.” He winked down at you before walking up to the truck window and began ordering for the both of you. Flabbergasted at his comment you stood behind him silently.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you dug into the truck food with vigor sitting on a picnic table across from Steve, smiling whenever your eyes would meet. Steve’s brow furrowed looking around the park noticing all the remaining attractions, a few booths, some machines, and attractions though definitely updated it all had a strange sense of nostalgia. The thoughts of Bucky and times long ago were prevalent, like a shadow around each corner as the sun began to set.

“Hey,” you recognized the bleak look falling over his face. “Come back to me.” You whispered, grasping his hand resting on the table across you. His head jerked to you, eyes clearing and a soft smile played at his lips.

“I’m here,” He smirked at the sauce dripping down your using his other hand he wipes the sauce away with his thumb and without missing a beat you turn to his thumb pulling it into your mouth. Sucking the mess from his thumb his eyes leveled with you, his lips curled up into a predatory smile as you graze your teeth along his retreating thumb.

“Naughty girl,” His voice a bit deeper than normal, with a sly smile you wink at him. “Maybe I didn’t want to waste of the delicious food?” He shifts in his seat and you could just imagine the hardening cock in his jeans. It was definitely time for your next part of the birthday celebration.

Without a further word you took both of your trash to dispose of it then grabbing you plush Captain America and the pulling the real one by the hand on to the next adventure. He called out your name inquiring where you were leading him but you didn’t respond the entire time. You finally stopped in front of an arch way displaying ‘Wonder Wheel’ in large letters with a giant Ferris wheel behind it.

“Another artifact like you,” your words held mirth as you stuck your tongue out the side of your mouth looking up at Steve. His eyes widen starring up at the Ferris wheel he rode growing up in Brooklyn.

“Wow,” He looked down when you pulled him further into the line. “Uh, I don’t know about this doll. It’s so old you know and it goes up real high.”

“I promise it’s just as sturdy as you,” Steve ran his tongue over his bottom teeth leaning back on his feet he looked down at you. “Not to mention who beautiful the night sky is going to be facing the ocean!”

“Doll,” his voice laced with growing anxiety.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve jumped out of planes without a parachute so what danger could there be in a Ferris wheel?”

“I have a shield to help with landing,” He looked less and less happy about the idea as the line shortened.

“You’ve got your shield!” You pulled on the shield sewed to the plush Captain America doll; Steve gave you a small smile and sighed in defeat. Happy at persuading him you lean up on your tip toes and wrap a hand around the back of his neck pulling him down towards you. Pushing your body flush against his you press your lips gently against the skin below his ear causing him to shudder and wrap an arm around your waist.

“I promise I will make it worth your while.” You whisper softly into his ear before nipping at his ear lobe and leaning back on your feet letting go of him. His arm loosens around you at the bite but tightens once more looking down at you in curiosity.

“Next.” You peel yourself from his grip and turn towards the Ferris wheel attendant who called for the two of you. Handing him tickets from your purse you had purchased before Steve had met you at the park.

Steve frowned adjusting his pants to make room for the arousal your behavior had caused. His brows lifted up watching you mutter something he couldn’t hear to the attendant and barely catching the sight of the $100 bill you slip into their hand.

Smiling brightly back at Steve you grip his hand pulling him to the large outer Ferris wheel carriage another attendant was opening for the both of you. Steve helped you into the box and following afterwards.

There were two bench one on each side of the Ferris Wheel, you sat on the one facing outward and patting for Steve to join you. He did but not without cringing the teetering of the box at weight change.

“What was that about back there?” He inquires pulling you to his side an arm draped over your shoulder. Shrug at him and let out a small ‘meep’ when the Ferris wheel started to move slowly. In reaction Steve pulls you closer to him your hand rested on his lap instead of being squeezed between the two of you.

Once you felt the two of you were at least half way up your hand began to wander towards his inner thigh, gently kneading him there, his eyes cut down to you but you smile at him innocently. He wasn’t fooled though. You began to lazily trail your hand up and down his thigh, purposely letting the tips of your fingers barely touch his growing erection.

“Doll,” his tone full of warning but you ignore him. Instead you pull your legs under you sitting on them the movement swaying the booth a little. You kiss him softy at first, trailing your hand up and down his thigh again.

Steve didn’t take kindly to you ignoring him; he threading his fingers in your hair and pulls your head back gently. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking care of my birthday man?” You bite your bottom lip and Steve’s eyes narrow on your lips.

“No one can see, unless you want them to.” A deep red blush covers his cheeks as he mutters a “No.”

You curled your fingers around his clothed hard cock, he curses under his breath looking down at your hand then back at your face. He pushes your lips back to his he was rough though, nipping at your lower lip you gasp and his tongue invades your mouth. In response you unbutton and unzip his pants your hand slipping into the slit of his boxer briefs. He groaned against your mouth as you wrap your fingers around his warm cock tugging at it gently through the slit exposing him to the air.

You looked down at his cock and whimpered, it was so flushed and throbbing in your hand. You tighten your grip and Steve jerked your hair making you look at him.

“Taste it,” he encourages you, pushing your head down. You oblige leaning down your ass lifting in the air as you held his thigh with one hand, the other resting against his hard chest. You gently lick the tip and smile when his cock jerks at the touch.

Unable to resist any longer you wrap your lips around the head and began to swirl your tongue along the head. Steve threw his head back, a faint thud against the window, he lets out a groan.

“Just like that,” he mutters under his breath as you took him deeper.

His hand trails from your hair down your back and pulls your dress up revealing your lace underwear. Oh he was definitely going to rip those off later. He grips one of your exposed ass cheeks then gives it a heavy slap. The force of his slap causes you to take his cock further down your throat with a moan. Wiggling your butt he smirks at the show slapping the opposite cheek, in return you took the rest of him down your throat, feeling his soft blonde pubes.

“Shit,” he gasps out unable to stop the way his hips jerk up when you pull up stopping half way to go back down. Purposely swallowing around him, your tongue rolling around any part of him you could touch. Trailing your free hand up his thigh you cupped his balls still within his boxer briefs.

His breath falters. “Doll,” he whimpers when you pull your head up and went right back down in quick sessions. “Please,” he jerks his hips up shoving himself into your receding mouth. With his other hand he grips your head and holds you down. You moan around his cock, feeling liquid pool between your legs.

You loved it when he used your mouth, hell when he just used you.

He pulls you completely off his cock, pulling your head back to bend your back at an almost painful angle. His eyes were nearly all black when he pressed his mouth to yours, spittle glistening on your lips. His tongue trailed along your tongue groaning into you at the taste of himself. With his grip still in your hair he pulls your head back looking you in the eyes.

“Who’s mouth is this?” His voice gravel from his arousal. You whimper at his words shifting your hips together. He smacks your ass harder than before and you swore the sound echoes outside the Ferris wheel booth.

“Who’s” he pulls your head down, your mouth barely touching the bright red pulsing head of his cock, “is it?”

“Yours Captain,” he groans and shoving his cock all the way down your throat, gasping as you gagged on him at the sudden intrusion. He pulls your head up quickly and pushes back down just as quick.

“Yeah it’s mine” he mutters moving your head up and down on him gripping your ass with his other hand.

“It’s mine to use and abuse.” He grunted when your throat constricts around him causing him to hold you down at his base.

“You deserve to be used too,” He pulled you up just enough so you could catch your breath only to push you back down. “Getting me on this old Ferris wheel with such ill intent.”

Pulling your head back one more time he admired the drool trailing own your swollen lips, a groan pulled from his mouth when you licked your lips clean.

“Such a filthy thing,” He kissed you roughly before shoving you back down on his cock barely giving you a chance to breath as he started pushing himself up into your mouth. Tears started to pool at the corner of your eyes in response to the random gagging, but you wouldn’t let him stop, even if he could at this point.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groans out, his hips stilled as he started to move your head again on his cock. It was only a few moments later he held your mouth at his base; hips jerking you felt warm shots roll down your throat. Swallowing everything he had you slowly pull your head up when his grip releases.

He was still panting, coming down from the feelings you sent through his body. Smiling at him you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Reaching behind you pulled a handkerchief out of your purse; one he had given you so very 1930’s of him.

His whole body jerked when you began clean up his lap the sensation being too much, his eyes widen at your actions.

“Doll you shouldn’t be doing that–” He protests and went to still your arm but you swatted him away his post-orgasm euphoria letting him be bested.

“It’s your birthday,” You countered continuing with your task.

“Yeah but…” his voice trailed off as you finish and put the handkerchief in your purse and slip his softening cock back into his boxer briefs. Steve swatted your hands away to button and zip his pants up. You went to retort about you taking care of him but he stopped you before you could start.

“Hush we’re almost on the beach side,” At his words you turned around seeing the bright stars above the ocean. The city was way to light polluted to be able to see any stars but facing out towards the ocean you could actually see some.

Steve pulled you into his lap both of you staring at the night sky as the booth descended.

-

“Where are you taking me now?” Steve grumbles beside you, he was getting tired of walking around with so many people around and it was getting late. You pat his arm wrapped around you as you pull your cellphone out smiling brightly at the text you got.

“Who is that?” Steve felt a surge of envy of your attention being diverted from him.

“Remember me saying my friend that’s got a place in Brooklyn near where your mom’s was… Well she tends to be out of town around this time of year.”

“Yeah,” Steve trailed not sure he understood what this had to do with anything.

“Well she said we could crash at her place for the holiday weekend.” You smiled up at him.

“This way it can just be us, she’s got a nice 3 story walk-up across from Prospect Park.” Steve whistled at the location.

“Those aren’t cheap places doll,” You nudged him with your shoulder as he led the two of you out of the park. “Oh hush, it doesn’t matter. It’s ours for the night or weekend if we want!”

Steve nodded his head, staying in Brooklyn with his girl for his birthday sounded fantastic. No giant parties, no one knocking on their door interrupting their solitude. Just the two of them.

“She said the fridge has minimal essentials so if we want more food for the weekend we’ll need to get it.” Steve shrugged at your comment though slightly elated at the idea of doing something as domestic as grocery shopping with you.

“Well let’s head there. Figure we’d take my bike?” Steve question rhetorical, he knew you never drove. “Yeah just don’t go too fast.” Steve chuckled at your concern.

“I’d never let anything happen to you doll,” he kissed you before leading you to his bike.

The place wasn’t too far but far enough that Steve was able to admire sights of the Brooklyn he once knew merging with the 21st century. He pulled up to the walk-up and realized he could remember when they built these houses; he was barely 10 when they were finished. Shaking his head he trailed behind you as you entered a code into the deadlock keypad to the house.

Once the two of you shuffled inside he could make out familiar duffel bags on the couch in the living room. The both of you pulling your shoes off and setting them on a shoe rack next to the front door.

“Doll,” he dragged the l’s out inspecting the duffel bags closer.

You suddenly felt guilty for some reason, as if you had tricked him. “Yes Steve?” You tried to sound sweet as possible.

“What are our bags doing here?” You toed your foot into the hardwood floor pulling your arms behind your back.

“Tony may have helped a little in getting bags I had packed here so we could stay for however long we wanted.” Steve smiled at you pulling you into his embrace.

“And here I thought I’d just get to see you naked the whole time.” You pulled his ball cap off and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“I mean I could,” you gave him a licentious smile. He groans as if imagining you naked already.

“Yeah you should,” he leans down to kiss you but you slip out of his hands. His brow furrowed in confusion. You pointed to the bags which he quickly picked up and then crooked your finger at him. He followed you without a word as you made your way to the guest room.

Once he was in the room he sat the bags down and threw you on the bed only to pull his pants off before he pounced on you as you bounced on the mattress giggling.

“About that naked thing,” He wiggled his eye brows at you causing the giggles to continue. He silenced you gently kissing your lips then the corners of your mouth, trailing down your chin to your neck where he began to nibble on the skin.

You cooed, your hands wrapping around his waist pulling his shirt up so you could grip his muscular back. He grinned against your neck and sat up, wedging his hips between your spread legs. He quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head followed by your dress. He let out a pleased groan, his hands starting at your waist trailing up your stomach kneading your skin as he reached below your bra.

One hand slips underneath you unhooking the bra with finesse that took years to obtain, the other hand tossing the bra somewhere in the room.  You grip at the waist band of his underwear whimpering when you push your hips up against his hard cock, the friction setting your skin on fire. Steve groaned, his hands falling on the bed at your sides holding himself up as he bears down on you.  

You lean up nipping at his ear lobe and kissing your way up his chin to his lips. Gently pressing against him and you were met with his never ending intensity. Tongues fighting for dominance as his hands take yours from his waist and hold them at your side pushing you back down into the mattress with one hand.

Pulling your hands above your head he holds them with one hand bruising strength and began to rub his cloth covered cock against your slick pussy. The juices soaking into his boxer briefs, he groans putting his chin to his chest looking down at your soaked panties. He licks his lips looking back at your face; a soft whimper passes your lips at that predatory look.

“You gonna let me fill you huh?” You felt your lower abdomen quiver at his words thick with his Brooklyn accent when he lost himself in his lust.

“Yeah you want it,” he muttered letting go of your waist slipping into your underwear to rub your clit with his thumb. You arched your back up crying out hands jerking against his hold but when he applied pressure you stilled.

“Please,” You half gasped out at his attention, his pressure light and slow almost torturous.

“Please what?” He smirked down at you.

“I want to cum, please.”

“You’re gonna have to do better than that.” He began to increase the pressure of his thumb

“Please Captain make me cum,” you began to rotate your hips. “I want to cum, I want your cum.” Steve groaned and increased his pressure on your clit, letting go of your wrists to rip your underwear off with minimal effort and shoves two fingers into your slick heat pressing his palm against your clit.

You nearly screamed out, the sensation too much as he began a brutal pace. Your head began to toss back and forth on the bed his attentions sending rippling pleasure up and down your body.

“You want to cum?” He taunted, leaning over you. You nodded your head not able to say yes as you moaned louder, a tightening feeling spreading in your lower abdomen.

“Not yet,” he pulls his hands away from you and you sob out loud, your legs flailing in anger at his denial. Without another word he grips your throat and you still, your legs resting over his thighs.

“Such a good little slut,” he praised and you couldn’t help the feeling of pride that washed over you at his words.

“You’re gonna be good for me right?” You muttered a yes.

“Gonna take my cock, gonna let me fill you up? Be such a good doll for me right?” You felt your head fog with lust at his words.

“Yes Captain,” You whimper out pushing your pelvis down on his.

“I love it when you call me that.” He growled out.

Steve spurred into action; pulling down his boxer briefs until completely off. Pushing your thighs wide apart he gripped the base of his cock, trailing the head up and down your slit enjoying the way his precum and your juices made the head glisten. He shifted up to standing on his knees pulling your waist with him your lower half up in the air. The height different bending you at the neck.

“Tell me if it’s too much okay?” You nodded meekly as you whimper feeling the head of his cock press into you.

When he thrusts himself into you regardless of your arousal and preparation there was that delicious burn of stretching. You both cry out, your hands gripping at the air as he holds your hips still with both hands. “What’s wrong baby girl?” he taunted.

“So full,” you gasped out, trying to rotate your hips but his grip was too firm. He tutted your attempts as he slowly pulled himself out then slammed back in causing you to cry out again as your body went limp with pleasure. He chuckled at your cries and set a punishing pace.

“Who do you belong to?” He grunts out between closed teeth, his brow furrow.

“You,” Voice hoarse from the over use and bent neck.

“Who?” A hand lets go of your waist and two fingers begin to run circles around and gently pinch your clit. You feel the deliria of pleasure start to settle in, almost missing his question.

“I belong to you Steve,” he stilled “Captain” You all but gasp out, he leans over your prone body peppering kisses on any skin he can reach, continuing his assault on your over worked slick pussy.

He groans pulling you from him only to flip you onto your stomach as if you were light as air. He sat back on his heels pulling your waist over his lap. Your legs wrapped behind him on reflex, hands stretched out on the bed in front of you, his cock slowly pushing back into you.

“You drive me crazy,” he mutters out, a hand on your lower back guiding your ass back and forth on him. You faintly hear him growling his eyes entranced at the sight of his cock slipping in and out of your sopping wet pussy.

Your eyes shut tightly the sensation of his slow intrusion sending shocks up and down your body settling into the tightening of your lower abdomen. Steve hand snakes down below you, rubbing your clit quickly to offset his leisure pace. You arch your back down with a sob, the sensation too much you shutter around him losing yourself to the release of pleasure.

He grunts feeling you spasm around him setting his pace back up in tempo, pounding into you with strength that would certainly leave bruises. “Cum in me,” You coo, your body jerking against the bed at his thrusting. He nearly howls at the words his body seizing up, his pelvis flush to your ass cheeks filling you at your request.

It took a while before either of you caught your breaths enough to move. He pulls his semi hard cock out of you. You couldn’t control the way your hips push back, primal need to always feel him. He would have normally chuckled at your actions but he’s mesmerized by his cum leaking out of your bright red pussy.

“Oh no no,” his finger push the dripping cum back in, you releasing soft whimper from your lips at the feel of his fingers pushing on the overworked flesh.

He twisted his hand pushing his palm against your clit, his fingers still inside of you keeping his cum inside as he began to rub his palm against your clit causing your back to arch back down again a deep moan pulling from your lips. He placed his other hand on the back of your neck sending you down the path to orgasmic bliss once again.

-

Steve felt consciousness slowly start to filter in as the morning sun began to shine in the room; he reached over for you but frowned when he found nothing but crumpled sheets. Opening his eyes he slowly sat up, his senses returning after a late night of his favorite activity. Smelling bacon he licked his lips standing up with a stretch.

He spotted across the room that you had set out his favorite sweat pants on a reading chair. Deciding it was time to find you he worked towards getting pants on so he could hunt you and the bacon down.

You danced naked underneath the apron to a song stuck in your head. Your hair up in a messy bun as it was unsalvageable to be down anymore after last night. You felt your thighs clench at the thought of everything the two of you did. Returning you focus to cooking you flipped over the bacon wondering when the birthday boy would wake up.

Strong muscular arms looped around the front of your waist, the other cupped a breast gently pulling you back into warm uncovered chest.

“What are you wearing or rather aren’t wearing,” he rough scratch in his voice made you push your thighs together once more.

“You asked for naked the whole time.” You remind him, pushing the bacon with your spatula. He hummed in appreciation, rutting his morning erection against your back side.

“So I did,”The hand on you breast snaking in the valley between your breast to gently wrap around your throat pulling you head to the side he began to kiss along your  neck.

He pulls his sweat pants down enough to pull his cock out. He dips his hips low to be able to rub his cock between your ass cheeks chuckling as you wiggle against him.

“Steve…” A soft gasp escapes your lips while you throw a hand behind you reaching up to grip the nape of his neck. “The bacon.”

“You can still finish the bacon don’t worry.” His hands wrap around your waist lifting you up just enough to nudge the head of his cock between your wet lips. When your body betrayed you jerking at the slight pain on over used flesh, he pulls away but your feet hook around his calf anchoring yourself.

“No I want it,”

“Doll” His voice full of concern.

“I like it when it hurts,” Your confession earning a groan from Steve against the back of your neck, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” Sliding you down until you were at the root he gently bit your neck moving one arm to warp around your lower abdomen keeping you tight against him.

You are panting head thrown back as you try to focus on anything but the searing feeling of him so deeply inside you once again.

“Don’t forget about the bacon.” Steve murmurs against your neck before he starts to draw patterns on your skin with his tongue, you shake your head looking down at the close to burning bacon.

Quickly you take it out of the pan, leaning just slightly over to pull new bacon into the pan, a whimper pushing past your lips at the shift of him inside you at the movement. Steve flexes his hips panting against your neck. Your head feels fuzzy trying to focus almost impossible with him sitting so deep in you. The telling tightening and need for release growing with each second he stayed within you.

“Finish our breakfast doll,” His voice barely above a whisper giving away that this was driving him just as crazy.

Once the bacon was finished you turn the burner off and barely have a chance to put the last of the bacon on the plate before Steve turns the both you around pushing your chest down on the marble kitchen island. He swirls his pelvis groaning out between ragged breaths.

“It’s almost unbearable to be surrounded by your tight pussy and not do anything,” He smacks your ass causing you to clench around him with a soft cry. That is what sets him off. He rears his hips back nearly completely out of you and slams right back into you with so much force you’d certainly have a bruise later along your thighs from the island marble.

He began pounding away into you with abandon, groaning out your name intermittently like a mantra. The sensations were too much for your overworked body, crying out his name you spasm around him. Steve’s steady pace became jerky his fingers pressing tightly into your flesh as he filled you once more, his forehead dropping  to  your shoulder gently biting at your sweaty flesh riding out his orgasm.

Laying the side of your face on the cool marble you try to cool yourself down as hot puffs of air escaping your lips with Steve panting into your skin.

“Happy Birthday Steve.” You can feel his lips upturn against you neck. “Best one yet and the days not even over.” Barely a mumble against your skin.  

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 29)

Daryl awakes by a cold breeze running over his face. He blinks in the faint, warm morning light that seems to have swept the entire surroundings in a pink, orange glow. With a grunt he rises on his elbow. It’s cold, freezing as a matter of fact and it feels like he’s wearing a helmet made of lead, or that his temples are stuck in a vise. The empty bottles scattered at the bottom of the porch stairs tells Daryl everything he needs to know about the source of the headache. He peers at the scarlet sky and the sun that climbs over the trees in the distance, that despise the dreadful hangover is painfully beautiful. He’s lying on the wooden porch floor on his side with his arm around Mila, who’s asleep underneath the Navajo poncho, an even better view than the magnificent sunrise. 

He lies down next to her again and buries his whole face in her long hair, inhales the scent of it that makes him feel all warm inside his chest, like home. Huh, so this is how it feels, he thinks, feeling at home? Safe and at peace, belonging. Wrapped in a poncho, on a porch floor freezing his ass off, next to her. A peculiar feeling, one he doesn’t want to lose for anything in the world.

He’s drawn back to the present and their surroundings, when the front door’s knob is turned. It opens and Rick steps out from the house. He stops abruptly when he spots them lying on the floor, right in front of the stairs. The eyebrows disappear underneath the curly bangs and Rick’s tired face turns into an amused grin. Daryl reacts instinctively and raises his hand, as if to say ‘Don’t wake her’ and carefully makes an effort to get up. Rick raises his hands, to signal that he doesn’t have to. 

Thank-fucking-god for that, Daryl thinks. His head hurts like hell. Rick walks past them very carefully, still grinning as he mimics ‘finally’ to Daryl. ‘Finally’ what? What’s that supposed to mean? Daryl throws the ordinary surly glance at him, clearly telling Rick to ‘shut up’. Rick gives him a wry, tired smile, before he starts walking towards the infirmary, to replace Michonne who sat at Carl’s bedside during the night, letting Rick care for Judith and get some sleep.  

Mila grunts and rolls over at her back, pulls her hand over her face and blinks. The gaze, the blue eyes, looks at him. She stretches on the wooden boards and yawns.

”What time is it?” 

”Dawn-” Daryl peers at her, the hangover really grows on him. ”Really early.”

Mila groans and sits halfway up on the ground. Her eyes wander to the treetops in the distance, beyond the wall, where the morning sun colors the sky pink, orange and blue. A smile is formed upon her lips as she rises into sitting position, she hugs her knees and draws a deep breath, filling her lungs with fresh, crisp morning air. 

”I love this time of day.” she exhales. ”The colors, the air.”

As smooth as he can, Daryl sits up and leans his back against the porch pillar, trying to enjoy the rising sun. It’s impossible. Too hungover, like someone poured acid into his eyes and he quickly closes them. A palette of the colors of the rainbow appears from the mix of too much booze last night and exhaustion, on the inside of his eyelids. Normally, he would have struggled with severe anger and irritation by now, walking around being grumpy, kicking things and being a complete ass for the entire day. He’s interrupted in his thoughts on “how things could have been”, when he feels a warmth presence entering his sphere and the unmistakable scent of Mila, as well as a faint and foul odor of old rotten blood and sweat stuck in her clothes, when she settles next to him. He takes a deep breath, the scent tickles all of his senses, and sighs with a smile.

”What’s that smile about?” 

”Nothing.”

”Well, don’t stop, I like it.” 

Daryl opens his eyes to look at her, just as Mila leans in closer, making her lips touch his. Softly, gentle as a feather, her upper and lower lip brushes against his, turns into a kiss. He cups her face with his hand as he replies the act of affection hungrily. The real world feels so far away and the hungover suddenly feels bearable. Softly, Mila breaks the kiss with a wide, satisfied grin from ear to ear.

”If they only knew.” she whispers. 

”Rick knows.” Daryl replies husky. When Mila’s smile turns cunning he quickly, as if to apologize, continues; ”We’re outside, on the porch.”

”So, what did he say?”

”Finally.” Daryl says, feeling a bit uncertain of what Rick actually meant by that. Might be because of the booze. He’s still a bit hazy, but Mila’s grin turns wider at his reply. “What?”

”I can’t blame him.” She’s interrupted by a growling sound, sounding very much like hunger. ”You know- I am really, really hungry… how about early breakfast?”

“Ya’ might need to wash up first.” Daryl says and squints at her. He quickly continues, as Mila’s left eyebrow starts to travel upwards. “Ya’ smell like roadkill, Jersey.” A cheeky spreads on her beautiful pair of lips and the blue eyes sparks. “What’s with the smile?” Daryl asks. 

“On my own? This hair doesn’t wash itself, Dixon.”

Her forward, but alluring reply makes his cheeks fluss, almost makes the damn hangover go away. Daryl feels a rush of heat run throughout his body like a bolt. Still smiling, Mila gets up from the wooden planks and stretches. The t-shirt goes up as she elongates her body, exposing a piece of her skin between the fabric of the jeans and the tee, but it’s enough to make him hard, make him feverish with desire. He wants to crawl up to her, rest his lips against her stomach and-

“You coming?” 

“Huh?” Daryl looks up, squints at Mila who looks back at him, holding the poncho in one hand, offering him the other. “Yeah.” 

He grabs it firmly and she helps him up from the cold wooden floor. He wants to say something about what she just said; did she say she wanted him to- what, shower with her? Wash her hair, what does that mean? He continues to wonder as he takes the poncho and puts it around her shoulders, then grabs the door knob and opens it. They walk inside the house, looking the same as the other day when they crashed into it, being followed by a bunch of walkers. 

The exception is Carol who’s standing in the kitchen. She looks up from a big, blue mixing bowl at the kitchen island and smiles at them. 

“Ah. There you are.”

���Ya’ up?” Daryl greets her as he closes the door behind him and Mila, who walks into the kitchen. He follows, with a confused bundle of feelings and thoughts inside his body; a mix of pulsating excitement, aching insecurity, shivering nervousness and how unprepared he was for someone else to be awake at this time. But Carol looks like she’s been up for awhile. The kitchen looks like a goddamn baking show. “Ya’ bakin?” He asks. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Carol replies simply and cracks two eggs into the big bowl. “There’s a fresh from the oven-brownie under here-” She nods towards a checked kitchen towel, covering something on the counter next to her. “Next up, peanut butter cookies.” She points towards the bowl in front of her and then points at the towel again. “Why don’t you have a taste? You look hungry.”

Still hungover and surprised, Daryl barely reacts, still caught up in his head thinking about Mila’s remark on him washing her hair, a thought that made the blood in his veins go around like a rollercoaster. Mila on the other hand reaches for the towel, sticks her hand underneath and takes out a piece of brownie. She breaks it into two pieces and puts one in front of him on the counter. He takes it just as Mila puts her whole piece in her mouth. The blue eyes dramatically rolls back in her head and she moans.

“I think I just had a mouth orgasm.” 

Crumbs from the brownie fall down his throat at her bold proclamation. Daryl coughs and once again feels that rush of heat on both sides of his face.  

“I take that as a compliment.” Carol says and takes the lid of a big jar of creamy peanut butter.

Faint, soft thuds towards wooden floor tattles that a certain three and a half year old is awake and up and running on the second floor. With a clever glance that Daryl can’t fully read, Mila turns on the spot, with brownie crumbs around her mouth and runs up the stairs to Juri, probably standing at the edge of the stairs waiting for her to greet him ‘good morning’. Daryl looks after her as she disappears out of sight, hears her cooing to the boy in Russian, followed by her steps as she carries him into the bedroom again.

“So-”

Daryl turns and meets Carol’s eyes. She has a cheeky smile upon her lips. 

“So what?”

Once again Carol smiles at him. 

“I’ve seen that poncho before.” Carol nods towards the poncho, now lying on the kitchen island in front of her baking project. “But never on her.”

Daryl rests his eyes on the patterned, rust-red and sandy fabric. He’d totally forgotten about it. But since Rick already knew about ‘them’ it would only be a matter of time before the others knew as well. He feels his cheeks blush. 

“Gets cold outside.” Daryl manages to utter. “Ya’ know-”

“I bet.” Carol replies and pours the peanut butter into the bowl. “Was about time something happened between you two.” She continues simply and puts the jar down. “She’s good for you, Pookie.”

”She’s crazy.” Daryl says, with a wry smile.

”Crazy’s good.” Carol smiles. “She’s a mother, we’re crazy, in a good way. A well needed breath of fresh air. You’ll like it.”

Already does, Daryl thinks and takes the last bite of brownie and puts in his mouth. He looks towards the stairs again while chewing, wondering if he’s got the nerves to go up there. Just to be there, with her, or them. Apparently a bit of self-confidence that only alcohol is able to produce hangs on from the night before, next to the goddamn hangover, because Daryl grabs the poncho and leaves the kitchen, aims for the stairs. Carefully he walks up the stairs, as the other residents are still asleep. How early is it? Before he manages to figure out, he stands outside the bedroom door. It’s not closed entirely. Daryl takes a deep breath before he rests his dirty palm against the white surface, softly pushing it open. The bed right in front of the doorway is unmade, the cover is a total mess caused by the once again sleeping kiddo, lying with his blonde, tousled mane on a pillow, with his back against him. Mila half lies next to him, caresses the grey pyjamas covered back, patterned with sleepy koalas, tenderly. The clean sheets, the soft colors in the bedroom is a strange contrast to the young woman’s appearance, jeans spattered with blood and dirt, the worn boots and the weathered hair. She looks up as he steps inside the room and smiles faintly, tired. 

“Bad dream.” Mila explains and turns her blue eyes back to Juri, cradling a soft bunny. 

“Can’t blame him.” Daryl replies husky. “After yesterday.” 

“Believe it or not, but it wasn’t about zombies.” Mila smiles. “Three year olds have way bigger fears apparently. Can you believe it?” She observes him. ”You look like you could need a shower.”

“Nah. I’m good.”

Once again his cheeks start to get heated, no, wait- his whole body feels as if he’s standing naked in scorching sunshine. Does she imply what he thinks she does? 

“I think it’s big enough for both of us.” Mila rises from the bed. With a quirky smile over her shoulder, she strolls into the adjacent bathroom. “Let’s try.”

This is new. Completely new. Appalling, even. What the hell is he going to do? His feet have got stuck in the floor. Daryl feels like an idiot where he stands with the poncho in his hand, hugging it convulsively in pure panic. Was it an invitation? To, what? Shower with her? The hell, can’t she speak her goddamn mind so he gets what she means?! He looks down at his attire and suddenly becomes extremely aware of how he looks.

In the bathroom, the taps in the shower are turned on. The familiar sound of water slamming against tiles makes him sweat. Feverishly Daryl looks around the room, hoping to see a hidden bottle of liquor somewhere, but in vain. She must have hidden them. Damn ya’ Jersey, Daryl thinks to himself while biting his lip hard. Bite the bullet, asshole, he continues to think, just as Mila looks out from the bathroom. 

“Bozhe moy, are you scared of water or what?”

He takes a deep breath and bites his teeth. Can’t she understand that he’s struggling here? He ain’t no goddamn Casanova, doesn’t know what to do in these situations. He’s never been in a position like this ever to be fair, and he’s just as scared as he’s excited by it. A bunch of walkers would have been easier to handle than this, but fuck, he wants her; the bundle of heaven and hell that is this mix of cocky Jersey girl and Russian madness, standing in front of him, smelling like a roadkill. That’s the girl for him. 

Before Daryl manages to force his feet to move, Mila’s relentless stubbornness takes over. She grabs him by the hand and drags him into the bathroom, kicks the door shut and without hesitation pushes him in under the water jet, dressed and everything.

“What the-” Daryl scoffs as he turns and meets Mila’s face through the gushing water jet. “The hell, Jersey?” 

“What?” Mila grins mischievously. “Go ahead, shower with your clothes on then, if it’s so daunting.”

He squints vexed at her through the water, immediately becomes heavier as the clothes absorb the water like a sponge. Without a word, as he kicks off his water filled shoes, Daryl grabs Mila by the wrist and pulls her in under the jet of water with him, so close he can feel her laughing breath against his collarbones. 

“This is a Russian thing or what?” he asks and blinks the water out of his eyes, looks down at Mila. 

“I hear you’ve never been to Jersey.” 

Blood rushes through his body, like a runaway train. Determined, he presses her body against his, his lips against hers, feeling her hands on each side of his face. A moan escapes her mouth as his tongue squeezes in between her lips. With continuous determination Daryl presses her up against the tile wall, digs his left hand into her long, wet hair, as the right hand tugs at the button in her pants. Reluctantly he tears himself from her lips, goes down on his knees and rips both jeans and underwear off in one thug. His eyes and hands wander from her ankles, upwards from her wet legs to the insides of her thigh; he meets Milas eyes from his position as the tips of his fingers start to fondle her. She moans, validating that he causes her pleasure, while closing her eyes, leans her head against the wall, lets her fingers run through his hair as he devours her with his gaze. But he’s not allowed to remain there for long, before she tugs at his hair, forcing him to get up from the floor and once again gorge on her lips, while continuing to fondle her folds to the point of them pulsating. Feeling her lower muscles convulse by his touch makes his pulsing erection throb against the jeans. As if she could feel it too, Mila unzips his soaking wet jeans with a smile, forces them down over his hips, releasing his erection, that bounces out towards her stomach. Still smiling she grabs his cock, a movement that forces him to tear himself from her lips in order to let out a restrained groan of pleasure. 

”Oh god-”

The ends of Milas mouth turns into a pleased grin as she pumps it up and down very cautiously, making him press his forehead against hers as he moans uncontrollably, while gripping the washed out, soaked t-shirt by its hem. In a definite move, he pulls it over her head and throws it on the floor. He gropes one of her breasts while continuing to kiss her, making her more ready for what he wants to do next. As if she could read his mind, Mila, in-between the frantic kissing and tearing the vest and shirt from his upper body, moans:

”Get inside me.”

Not being very talkative in normal situations, he surprised himself when he -though in a groaning, panting, almost broken, due to both unbelievably horniness and lack of breath, voice- answers her: 

”Ya’ won’t have to ask twice.” 

Easily, with one hand underneath each of her buttocks, he jacks her up against the tile wall a bit and supports Mila’s leg as she rests the foot against the opposite wall. Slowly and steady he then pushes his cock inside of her, moaning into her bent backwards neck as Mila inhales air into her lungs as he fills her to the core. 

“Oh- shit!” She exclaims and buries her bony sharp fingers into his bare back. 

Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t hold it, Daryl finds himself thinking in something between panic and pleasure as he feel a rush of delight spread trough his whole body- Fuck, it won’t go. It’s gotta, but it requires him to concentrate all of his self-control not to explode inside of her, in a matter of seconds. His body wants to let go and make it last forever at the same time. The latter seems to win his inner battle, and with a happy groan he continues to thrust into her, trying not to lose the control he’s desperately managed to tame. He hugs around her leg, feeling every muscle tense in the back of her thigh. Firmly he lifts it even further and thrusts back into her, a movement that causes Mila’s eyes to roll back in her head and her inner muscles to clench tightly around him. She releases a surprised, but very delighted, moan. Exalted Daryl realizes that he must’ve hit some kind of jackpot, a golden spot that transformed the hellfire in his arms to jello. 

”Oh my god do it again.” she pants and meets his face, with a lyrical facial expression, eyes glistening. “Please.” 

Nope, she won’t have to ask twice. He obeys, adjusts and hits ‘jackpot’ once again; her core convulses around him and her lower lip quivers, but she doesn’t break their eye contact. It makes him stark mad, his whole body trembles and he realizes that he’s closer to climax than he thought. He wants it to last forever, but none of their bodies seems to think so. With his forehead against hers, he feels how she builds up until the orgasm hits her like a freight train. He thrusts into her even deeper, prolonging her orgasm while his hips speeds up until he releases himself deep inside of her, feeling the feverish sensation washing over him with the hot water jet. It feels better than he could have ever imagined. Better than the first time. Once again it hits him too late - no protection. Daryl looks down at their jointed bodies, feeling his own fluids mixed up with hers, run down his leg with the water from the shower. It’s as if she can read his mind. 

”I’ve read somewhere it’s safe if you do it in the shower- standing...” she pants, cheeks flushing and eyes glittering. 

”Ya’ learned that in university?” Daryl pants incredulously and looks at her in disbelief. 

Between panting breaths Mila manages to let out a chuckle at his remark. Daryl pulls out of her, with a faint groan, and puts her leg down on the wet tile floor. 

“No.” Mila replies. “Carnal knowledge- kind of. Or just wishful thinking. Probably the latter.” She leans in and kisses him hungrily. “Okay, moi horoshiy, now you gotta help me with my hair.”

Taglist: @lonewolf471 @twdeadfanfic

[thehomierobbstark]

Bruh I can imagine Erik saying “Like you mean it” in that tinder voice, and staring at you with his pretty brown eyes😭😭

Shame [Prelude] // Kissing Strangers [Part I] // Communication [Part II]

[A/N: So I know when you sent this in you were probably responding to my story Kissing Strangers, but I wanted to do something else with this since so many people seemed to enjoy that story. (Uh huh, bet you thought I didn’t see this ask huh 😂). Anywho, this is part 1 of 2, so stay tuned! If yall wanna incorporate this into the K.S. Universe go for it! But there’s still a lot of development to go before this story happens.  I listened to Sabrina Claudio’s Creation (i know sis….) on repeat while writing this. Enjoy! And as always, thanks for asking anon!! ]

Warnings: At the bottom 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿.

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!!  x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

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Shivers run down your back as he traces along your spine with a finger, sliding delicately over the bralette you wore and down to the small of your back.  He lets the rest of his fingers peek out to crawl around your skin, nails scratching lightly as he feels around the plushy flesh resting there.

Out of habit, you shrink away from his curious exploration, self conscious about the unsightly back rolls, mentally cringing at what he must’ve thought.

“Let me touch you,” he whispers against your lips, his other hand pulling you back to him, large palm gripping your thick waist with security.

Your heart flutters at the gesture, a comforting warmth emanating out from your chest, and down below.  As you look down at him with a lip tucked between your teeth, he watches you with half lidded eyes, leaning forward to tug it free and suck the juicy fold into his mouth.

Sighing contentedly, you bring your hands up to either side of his face, closing your eyes and melting into the kiss, returning it with equal fervor. Your tongues dance slowly with one another as you explore each others mouths, nipping and sucking softly until both your lips are red and swollen with desire.

Pulling back with a groan, he surveys your outfit, not for the first time that night.  Sucking in a sharp breath, he clicks his tongue with irritation, rolling it around in his mouth.

“Now you knew damn well you was wrong when you walked out the house like this.” His eyebrow twitches as he speaks through clenched teeth, the frustration he’d felt the entire evening burning like acid on his tongue.  You feel the deep timbre of his voice vibrate through your body, and his eyes flicker to yours, narrowed and concentrated. “Didn’t you?”

Inhaling a thick breath of air, you bite your lip to conceal your smirk, nodding innocently as you feel the sexual tension grow between the two of you, along with something else.

“Words.”

He doesn’t break eye contact, waiting patiently for your verbal response.

Straightening your posture, you push your hands against his lower abdomen, feeling the solid muscles there constrict, giving yourself a layer of protection in case he decided to pounce.  “Yes.”

He sniffs, nodding his head while his eyes trail down to your spread thighs on either side of his hips, feeling his gaze on your center.

“Yet, you decided to do it anyway. Why?”

You swallow thickly, resisting the urge to clench your thighs together at his aggressive interrogation.

“Because it’s cute.”  You raise a brow, holding your head high with conviction as if the answer was obvious.

Eyeing you dangerously, he reaches forward, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing firmly until he feels your pulse race anxiously against his palm. A weak whine manages to slip past your lips, but you cut it short, seeing the threatening look behind his eyes.

“Why?” He asks you again, eyebrows raised expectantly for the correct answer this time.

Licking your lips, you open your mouth, and he gives your throat a warning squeeze, daring you to lie to him again before loosening his grip.

“Because I knew it would get to you.” Your words are breathy, heart skipping a beat at your foolish confession.

He leans forward, a smile curling its way onto his lips as he drops the hand around your neck to trace the lines of your collar bone, following it with his eyes.

He places a kiss to your shoulder.

“Do you like teasing me, Miss Y/L/N?”

He places another kiss right above it, your skin growing increasingly sensitive with each touch.

With your words caught in your throat, you move to shake your head, but a sharp smack to your ass makes you gasp, stopping you in your tracks.

You glance down to find those same insidious eyes watching you again, eager for another mistake as he continues lacing kisses up the side of your neck.

Clearing your throat, you find your voice again, speaking with a shaky breath.  “No.”

“Hm?”  You can feel his soft breath tickling your skin, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention from the close proximity. He was torturing you now.

Closing your eyes, you try again, this time with more certainty.

“No.”

With his lips pressed to the shell of your ear, he whispers into it, his icy tone sending a chill down your back.

“Wrong answer.”

The air feels as though it thins around you, your breaths becoming shallow as you wait with trepidation for whatever was about to come.

You chance a peek at him, eyes wide and silently pleading for him to have mercy on you, to give you one more chance to get it right.

Bringing his face up to yours, he stops a hair’s breadth away from you, your nose tickling from the closeness, and you feel your stomach sink as you watch his sweet brown eyes turn cold.

You feel a popped tug at your pants and the zipper on your jeans being pulled down as the cool air in the car begins to touch your lower half.

“Take these off.”

Grabbing your bottom with a handful of meatiness in each hand, he lifts you up, placing you off to the side onto the seat next to him. Scooting himself towards the door, he rests back cooly with one leg bent at the knee on the seat, the other on the floor.  His left arm lays behind the headrest, the other in his lap, fingers twitching around the aching mass between his legs.

With the small distance between you, you feel as though you’re center stage, and the intrigued look on his face as his eyes rake over you let you know that he’s ready for the show.

You take in a deep breath, chest filling with nervous butterflies that flutter away as you exhale through your nostrils.  Hooking both thumbs into the rim of your pants at your waist, you slowly push them down off your tummy, stopping to instinctively pull your underwear back up over the soft pudge.

“Don’t.”  His deep voice stalls you in your movements, and you release your tug on your panties, the thin material snapping back against your skin.

Looking into your eyes, with a small nod he silently commands you to keep going, and you continue pushing the material down, pausing to lift yourself as you work it up and over your hips.  As more of your chocolate brown skin is revealed, he licks his lips, swallowing down the collection of saliva that pooled in his mouth at the sight of you.

You keep your legs together as you finish shoving your jeans down the rest of the way, bending your knees and tucking each of your feet back as they’re freed to cover the view of your crotch.

Balling up the dark denim, you toss it over into the trunk of the car, straightening your legs out on the seat to their full length, your chubby socked feet stopping just before his crotch.

Running his thumb up the side of your sole, he takes one foot in his hand, slowly peeling the thin silk from around your ankle, revealing your cute black pedicured toes as he pulls it off. He does the same with the other foot, folding the socks into one another before tossing them over his shoulder to join your jeans in the back.

Rolling his thumbs into the sole of your right foot, he massages the soft skin, the tickling feeling making you arch and squirm in your spot.  You can feel the wetness in between your legs grow with each firm knead, and when he presses the nail of his thumb into the base of your heel and draw up, your body shudders at the sensation, closing your eyes to keep him from seeing them roll into the back of your head.

Chuckling at your reaction, he brings your foot up to his mouth to softly kiss the pad of your big toe, working his way down the line of appendages as he holds them against his lips. His tongue snakes out to suck on your pinky toe, but you snatch your foot back before he can make contact, a  devilish snicker filtering out from him as a full blown grin spreads his lips, touching the corners of his eyes.

You pull both your legs back and wrap your arms around your knees protectively, too distracted by the irritatingly beautiful smile painted on his face to roll your eyes at him like you wanted to.

“Where you think you going? Get back over here,”

He chews his lip as he glances down at your shielded legs, beckoning you back over to him with a hooked index finger.

When you refuse to move, his smile fades, face morphing back into the dark demonic look that you were becoming accustomed to seeing.

He stares you down with a testing look, but you don’t budge an inch.  If he wanted you, he was gonna have to come get you.

Slowly leaning forward into a menacing crouch, he balances the weight of his upper body on the palms of his hands, beginning a steady crawl towards you. The muscles in his back undulate with each stride, the rolling of his shoulders reminding you of that of a jaguar on the prowl.

You reach behind you to drag yourself away from his sauntering presence, but your hand hits the door, and your stomach sinks at the realization that there’s no where else for you to go.

As he reaches your legs, he wraps one large palm around your calf, gripping it and tugging you towards him forcefully, causing a frightened yelp to escape your lips.

Your back falls flat against the seat, and you see his large frame above you, peering down at you like you’re his helpless prey.

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

Warnings: Pre smut, Corniness, Insane Cheesiness I’m sure

[messagefromtheveins]

If Walls Could Talk Part 12

A/N: FINALLY! Right? The smut you’ve been waiting for since like... Part 3 I think?

Words: 3504

Pairing: Shawn/reader

Warning: smut

The room was still pitch black as you woke up sometime in the middle of the night to his arms wrapped around you, his chest steadily rising and falling against your back. For some reason you knew that he was also awake, so when you shifted it came to no surprise as he immediately tightened his arms around you. His body fit perfectly against yours like this- his knees in the crook of yours and your head tucked under his chin, feeling so safe in his embrace that you never wanted to leave this position ever again.

"Everything okay?" he mumbled, his voice deep and raspy and rumbling against your back. You hummed and nodded, your head tilting up and a smile spreading over your face as he placed a kiss on your hair. The sheets rustled as he shifted behind you, his head tilting down and his nose brushing along your shoulder before placing a soft kiss there. For a moment neither of you moved, almost holding your breath before he placed another kiss just a little to the left, almost shyly. Releasing a content sigh, you tilted your head to the side and gasped as he didn't waste any time to attack your neck in tender kisses, lips warm and soft against your sensitive skin.

You turned into putty in his hands, a small whimper escaping your lips that went straight to his dick as you shifted back into his embrace, the way you rubbed your butt over his crotch definitely not helping. His lips felt like heaven and you really couldn't decide if you wanted him to continue like this- gentle and small kisses- or if you wanted him to mark you up. Your breath audibly got caught in your throat as his lips brushed over your pulse point, the way his lips curved into a grin against your skin making you smile, too.

Licking over his bottom lip, he could feel the way your chest arched a bit in anticipation before he pressed his lips against your neck again. He couldn't help it- his hand instinctively moved up to your chest as a soft moan passed your lips when he started sucking where your shoulder met your neck, the soft weight of your boob in his palm making his hips lightly tilt against the curve of your ass.

He could feel your heart racing against his lip as he attacked another spot close to your pulse point, your hand raising to grasp his forearm and making his heart drop in fear of having done something wrong, expecting that you would pull his hand back. But instead you moved it even higher up to rest it on the back of his hand, fingers lacing through his and a shaky breath escaping your lips as he gently squeezed your breast. Licking over the mark he had left on the side of your neck, he didn't fail to notice how you shuddered in his grip.

Not a single word was exchanged between you as wriggled in his grip, clumsily turning around to him and meeting his awaiting lips in a hungry and passionate kiss. Hands grasping at his T-shirt, you subconsciously parted your lips and immediately felt him follow, deepening the kiss and tightening his arms around your body. Your heart raced in your chest, your hands trembling slightly and a little sound escaping your throat as his hands started roaming your back, almost shyly sliding down to rest on your butt for a second. His tongue slowly licked over the roof of your mouth before he nibbled on your bottom lip, tugging slightly and making you gasp softly.

You wanted to speak up, to ask him if he thought this was a good idea, but then he already pressed his lips against yours again and you forgot about everything except for how perfect his lips felt against yours. Shifting, he rolled to lay flat on his back and guided you along until you straddled his lap, lips not disconnecting until you moved to get more comfortable and lightly rubbed against him, drawing a soft moan from him this time.

His hands reached out to grasp your waist like he wanted to pull you back down as you sat up and reached over to the bedside table. His heart did a weird skip, but when the small light of the lamp illuminated the room just a moment later he scolded himself- just because he was more than ready to sleep with you it didn't mean that you also wanted to. He hummed with a grin as you turned your attention back to him, the light catching your features just perfectly. "That's much better," he murmured and let his hands drop down to your hips.

Your fingers traced over his chest in a way that gave him goosebumps, the way you smirked at him making his stomach flip in excitement. He stretched up to meet you halfway as you leaned down to kiss him again, your chest completely pressing up against his and your hands tangling into his hair. He released a grunt into the kiss as you slowly rolled your hips against his, followed by a quiet moan of your name as you pulled away from his lips and instead kissed over his neck while repeating the motion of your hips.

His hands immediately tightened their grip on your hips as he guided your movements of slowly grinding against his rapidly hardening cock trapped beneath his clothes while he swallowed heavily, not having expected that your lips would feel this good on his skin. As much as he wanted to let you continue he also wanted to worship every inch of you and make you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. Moving his hands up to grip your waist, he swiftly rolled you over so you laid flat on your back with his broad body hovering over you.

His eyes were full of love as he looked down on you, his hands combing your hair back before he leaned in for an incredibly tender kiss that calmed your racing heart and the desperation for him that had built, allowing you to take a mental step back and really concentrate on him. The way his lips felt, fitting so perfectly against yours. The way his hands felt tracing down your sides, fingertips slowly sneaking beneath your T-shirt.

You watched with heavy lidded eyes as he moved down your body, unable to hold back the soft sigh as he covered your exposed lower stomach in kisses. One of your hands placed on the back of his head, his eyes closing as his lips brushed over your skin in small pecks. He slowly pushed your T-shirt up a bit further with every new kiss while his hands caressed the places he hadn't peppered in kisses yet.

It wasn't until he reached the curve of your boobs that he opened his eyes and looked up to you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he found you watching him with dark eyes. Grasping the hem of your T-shirt, you pulled it off a bit clumsily, his helping hands actually not helping much at all. But he was still smiling at you when the piece of clothing finally got tossed aside, his hands settling on your sides in a light touch. The feeling of his fingers brushing over your bare skin gave you goosebumps. "How on earth are you so beautiful?" he whispered and placed a soft peck on your lips, fingertips slowly tracing up and finding your hardened nipples.

But before you even begin to enjoy his hands on you he already pulled them back again, a look crossing his features like he just now realized the whole meaning of the situation. Leaning his forehead against yours, he inhaled deeply and nibbled around on his bottom lip. "What's wrong?" you asked in a quiet voice and smiled softly as he placed kisses along your jawline, unable to stay away from you.

"I need you to tell me that you really want this," he whispered and pulled back just enough to look at you, blown eyes holding a hint of worry hidden behind the pure desire written in them. Giving him a fond smile, you cupped his face in your hands and lifted your head off the pillow to capture his lips in a soft kiss that he didn't hesitate to return, hands finding your waist again.

"I want this," you whispered and placed another kiss on his lips, gasping softly as he let a single digit slowly circle around your nipple. "So much. And just the fact that you're making sure-" you interrupted yourself with a soft moan as he lowered his head and wrapped his lips around your nipple, your hands moving to tangle into his hair to tug lightly. "-Makes you so sexy," you finished with a soft pant as he sucked on your chest, your eyes falling shut in pleasure.

His lips curled into a grin against your skin, hands lightly squeezing your hips for a moment before he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He quickly pulled his T-shirt off and wriggled out of his sweatpants, leaving him in nothing but a dark pair of black boxer briefs, bulge clear through the fabric. Raising an eyebrow in a suggestive and almost playful way, you reached down to push both your shorts and panties down in a single movement, his eyes greedily trailing over the newly exposed skin. He swallowed heavily and reached for your thighs, spreading them open and allowing him to dip his head in between them.

You sucked in a breath as he left a couple of soft kisses over your lower stomach, dying to let him continue so you would get to feel his tongue on you again, but at the same time you were impatient to feel all of him. He looked up to you as you placed a finger under his chin and followed as you tugged him up, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss. His chest arched as you let your nails drag down his spine before you grasped the waistband of his boxers, shoving them down as far as you could reach.

He pulled away from your lips with a grunt as your hand wrapped around his cock, followed by your surprised moan as his fingers found your clit. "Shawn," you whimpered, the sound making his length twitch against your palm, "I need you, please."

"Fuck, baby," he murmured and circled his fingers around the bundle of nerves, having you squirming underneath him as your head tossed back, chest arching and your free hand grasping at his upper arm. "You're so gorgeous, oh my God," he whispered and placed the lightest kiss on the sensitive spot on your neck that was already bruised a little. He felt your legs wrapping around his waist after you let go of him, heels resting on his lower back as you tugged him closer. A groan rumbled deep within his chest as his tip slid through your folds. "Top or bottom drawer?" he whispered and pulled back just enough to look at you, desperately trying to ignore the way his length rested right against your entrance, needing just the slightest push-

"What?" you mumbled, inhaling deeply as his fingers left your clit, hands bracing on either side of your head.

"Condom. Top or bottom drawer?" he repeated, "or do I have to get one from my room?"

"Top," you sighed and ran a hand through your hair. Your gaze eagerly trailed over his defined torso as he stretched over to the bedside table and pulled the drawer open. His muscles tensed for a moment as your fingertips brushed over his skin in a barely-there touch, letting you continue for a couple of seconds before he leaned back and brought the shiny square foil up to his mouth. Ripping it open with his teeth, he grinned as he noticed how you watched him with lust-filled eyes, making sure to take his sweet time rolling the condom over his length just to tease you. And he chuckled when you whined in protest, looking into your eyes again and feeling himself throb in his palm as he took in how you tightly bit your bottom lip, your cheeks beautifully flushed and nipples hardened. Giving his base a squeeze that didn't bring much relief, he leaned over you and attached his lips to your chest that immediately arched up, a soft cry falling from your lips as he took one of your nipples into his mouth while rolling the other one between his fingers. Though, he didn't get to tease you too long as you tangled your hands into his hair and tugged him up, your lips finding his in a hungry kiss.

Lowering himself until he comfortably settled between your legs again, he let his hands trail up and down your sides while your arms loosely wrapped around his neck. His teeth nibbled on your bottom lip, tugging and sucking slightly before he let his tongue push past your lips to brush against yours, feeling one of your hands tangle into his hair. He gasped in surprise as your other hand wrapped around his length, guiding him to your entrance as he pulled back to look at you.

"Please," you whispered, answering the unspoken question that was written in his eyes. Pecking your lips, he rested his forehead against yours as he pushed his hips forward, easily entering you and slowly pushing in deeper, not failing to notice how your eyes fluttered while a soft moan slipped past your lips. His eyes fell shut with a deep inhale as he was buried as deep as possible inside of you, the feeling of your warm and tight walls surrounding him making him wonder if he could last more than half a minute once he'd start moving.

Tilting his head, he captured your lips in a surprisingly chaste kiss as he carefully lowered himself until his chest was flush against yours, staying unmoving inside of you, which you were more than thankful for. It had been quite a while, the feeling of his length stretching you leaving a little stinging behind that wasn't exactly painful but not comfortable either. His hand placed on the side of your face again as he broke the kiss, the tip of his nose lightly brushing against yours and making you smile softly.

"You doing okay?" he whispered and placed a hand on the back of your head as you lifted it off the bed to place soft kisses along his broad shoulder, smiling softly as you felt him mirror your actions.

"Absolutely," you whispered and smiled widely as he placed soft kisses along your cheeks and temples before he slowly pulled his hips back. Letting a moment pass, your breath caught in your throat while a deep moan slipped past his lips as he thrust into you again. Your lips parted as he repeated the movement, your eyes falling closed and blindly letting him tug your hand off the back of his head.

His slightly scruffy cheek rested against yours, his breath hitting your ear as he laced his fingers through yours. Placing your intertwined fingers on the pillow beside your head, he built up a steady pace, keeping his actions slow and placing every thrust just perfectly. His lips captured yours in a slightly messy kiss, your free hand resting on his strong shoulder blade that tensed with every shift of his hips.

He couldn't help but give you a soft smile as he looked down on you, your thighs tightening around his hips while you took your hand off his shoulder, allowing him to grasp it and also intertwine your fingers. Stretching both of your tangled hands above your head, he thrust into you a little faster than before, hips knocking against yours and drawing a breathless cry from you.

"Do that again," you whispered so quiet he barely heard it, repeating his movement and receiving another moan from you, your eyes closing in pleasure as your chest arched into his.

"There?" he asked in a low murmur, grinding his hips against yours and having you squirming underneath him as the tip of his length rubbed perfectly against the spot. You nodded and responded to the kiss as he pressed his lips against yours, swallowing every moan that fell from your lips and returning one of his own.

A low whimper fell from his lips as your walls briefly clenched around him, slowing his thrusts and receiving a whine from you as you opened your eyes to look at him. "Don't stop."

"Baby," he chuckled breathlessly, feeling your hands squeeze his. "You feel overwhelmingly amazing and I'm so close already-" he broke off with a soft moan and nuzzled his face into your neck, placing a kiss on the bruise he had left earlier, hoping that it would remind you of this in the morning. And maybe the next few days. "I don't want this to be over so soon."

After some slow thrusts he picked up his pace again, your soft moans and pants filling the bedroom, only muffled by your lips finding the others. Releasing your hands as you moved your wrists, he grunted as you clung to his strong shoulders instead, the heat spreading through your lower stomach too present to ignore. He noticed how you squirmed beneath him and needed a second to realize that you tried to flip him over on his back, quickly reaching a hand down and pinning your hips to the bed. He knew that this would be over in less than a second once he'd have you on top of him and your naked body on full display.

"I'm close, Shawn," you whispered and felt his teeth lightly digging into your shoulder, your body jolting and a rather loud moan leaving your parted lips as his hand snuck between your bodies, fingers finding your clit.

"Me too, baby," he panted and squeezed his eyes shut as you clenched around him. He groaned at the feeling of your nails lightly scratching down his back again, wondering- and kind of hoping- if you'd leave marks behind.

You arched your chest into his as he rubbed circles over your clit with just the perfect amount of pressure, tilting your head to find his lips in a passionate kiss. His eyes were heavy lidded as he pulled back too soon to look down on you, your eyes blown wide and lips kiss swollen, making you look prettier than he had ever seen you before. "Oh- fuck, Shawn," you moaned, your walls squeezing him once more as you felt your high right on the edge. He grew desperate, finger flicking over your clit and silently begging you to reach your high, every of his muscles tense as he forced himself to hold back.

"Let go, c'mon," he groaned and buried his face into your hair, breathing erratic and heart racing in his chest. "Let me feel you, beautiful," he whispered and couldn't help the soft smile as you gasped, your legs locking around his hips and holding him flush against your body as you released with a moan, your walls clenching around him and pushing him over the edge, too.

Pushing his head into the crook of your neck, he whimpered and moaned against your shoulder. His toes curled, the feeling of you coming around him sending him into a state of oblivion.

His body collapsed on top of you, both of your chests rising and falling rapidly as you clung to the other, lazily riding out the aftershocks of your highs until both of your bodies relaxed into the mattress, the sound of panting filling the room. For several seconds neither of you said a word, slowly coming back to reality and catching your breath until he pushed himself up on shaky hands, looking at you with blown and exhausted eyes, hair slightly sweaty.

Cupping your face in his hands, he slowly shook his head with a fond smile. The bruise he had left on your neck was already blooming in a dark purple color, a bit of pride swelling in his chest at the sight, accompanied by a few more smaller hickey littering your shoulders and neck.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more beautiful," he breathed and placed a quick peck on your lips before he moved his hips, slowly pulling out of you. You whined softly and didn't move your legs from around his waist, receiving a soft chuckle from him before he tilted his head to place slow kisses along your cheeks and jawline. You sighed softly and let your eyes fall shut, moving a hand to comb it through his hair at the back of his head while the other caressed over his shoulder blades.

[youremypride]

Child of Satan.

Title: Child of Satan 

→ Inspired by: Case 39

Genre: Angst, Horror, Thriller

About: Strange occurrences arise when Y/N, a social worker takes in 10-year old Lilith Langdon under her care from her abusing grandmother who calls her the spawn of Satan.

Warnings: minor sexual content, mentions of killing, murder, character(s) death

Disclaimer: The plot of the story remains the same, with a few changes to fit the story I had in mind. Michael only appears near the ending of the story but he is still an importance to one of the characters. There are parts which I’ve added in from the movie, and parts I’ve changed or taken out. 

A/N: This marks the start of the Witching Hour series! It took me a lot of time because I wasn’t sure how I wanted the story to be since I planned this on a whim while watching this movie. Please feel free to leave comments on your thoughts about this, feedback is much appreciated! Until then, enjoy the movie! 

Reoccurring nightmares flooded your head in the late of night. Your body would be paralysed, refraining you from any movements from danger when something bad is about to happen. You were lying in bed, covered and secured over your comforter. Your hands were on your side but you couldn’t move them no matter how much you struggled.

Beside you stands the same man that would sit on the chair next to your bed. He would give you an endearing smile as he caresses your hair and brushes the stray hairs away from your pretty face. He places a small kiss on your temple before flipping open the book in his hands, reading off a part of the storybook, something he does to get you to fall asleep.

When he’s finished, he places the book on your side table and tucks you in one last time before wishing you goodnight and walking out of your room and closing the door. In the last seconds before you were consumed by the heavy feeling of fatigue and sleep welcoming you, you could hear your mother shouting from the lower floor, yelling at the person she was referring to not leave, until the front door slams with a loud bang and you awake from that nightmare.

Jolting up from your bed, beads of sweat trickled down your forehead. The back of your shirt felt damp from all the sweating and you felt your body heat increasing. You hated to relive that moment every time you went to sleep. The once bitter memory now forming into a nightmare that would continuously haunt you, taunting you and reminding you how your father had left you and your mother.

You once asked her why your father wasn’t in the picture when you got older and it made her agitated and distraught. She screeched at you, warning you never to question about him. You saw first hand what it did to her so you obeyed her, afraid something like that might happen again.

The absence of a man in the house, a husband and a father didn’t only affect your mother. It affected you too. In order to cope with your neglect and rejection, you started seeing older men that were way too old for you when you reached legal age. You would often go out to bars and solicit them, seeking solace in their presence as they are balls deep inside of you.

The pleasure and comfort these men had given you made you forget about reality and it only fuelled your need of having a cock inside you rather than drinking your problems away. Your sinful deeds would’ve made you feel guilty when your partner, Hayden is oblivious of your pussy slavering away to another man’s cock as you ride them off into the late of night, thinking you were working overtime.

Although those days are long over, you still get off from the memories, reliving them to bring you the feeling of satisfaction, one that Hayden had tried countless times but ended up giving you an unfulfilling orgasm as they always cums before you.

You had come to terms that you had issues. Daddy issues.

Another file plops down onto your desk, rounding a total of 39 case files that were assigned to you. Your manager, Wayne gave you an apologetic look and shrugs telling you that the others had their hands full just as you are. As he walks away, you scoffed and sighed at your misery.

You opened the file, greeted by a picture of the said victim. Reading through her file, you gathered that her name was Lilith Langdon, a 10-year old girl currently living with her grandmother. It states that she’s exhibited signs of apathetic, lack of interest in studying and often isolate herself with her peers. You mull over certain scenarios and why such an innocent girl could have been in such a situation.

Closing the front door behind you, you throw your keys on the console table, putting your coat and bag on the chair right beside it. Walking towards the living room, you plopped yourself onto your comfy brown couch and shuffled your hand through your front pocket to get your phone out.

As if on cue, a few messages appeared on the screen.

Hayden: hey baby, you home yet?

Hayden: miss you a lot, you still up for some thai food?

Hayden: if you’re tired, i could bring take out to yours, how ‘bout that?

You were kinda tired, and having to go out again a few hours just brings your body into a feeling of agony. Thankfully, Hayden was kind enough to know of your tiring schedule and you replied them in an instant.

You: yeap i’m home

You: yes please, thank you baby <3

Grabbing the remote of the coffee table, you turn the tv on and surfed through channels until you settled on some reruns of The Simpsons. The drowsy feeling in your eyes slowly starts creeping until your lids became heavier and heavier until your sight was nothing but obsidian.

Knocks on the door awoke you from your nap and brisk walk towards the front door. You were greeted by the sigh of Hayden, holding up the takeout of Thai food and greeting you with a grin from ear to ear. “Your delivery of Thai food is here!” They pipped, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on your lips before allowing themselves in.

They placed the takeout on the dining table as you get ready two glasses of water. They hand one of the Styrofoam boxes to you along with the utensils. You thanked them and said your prayers. “Ah, my favourite. You know me too well, baby.”

“I know my little girl enjoys chicken as much as I do.”

You love it when they call you their little girl. It brings up bubbles in your stomach and makes you feel giddy at the pet name they had given you. You insisted on them to continue calling you that when they decided to stop, saying it would made you uncomfortable due to your age.

It didn’t matter, you enjoyed it regardless. Even when Hayden was the same age as you. “So, any new updates with your recent case?” You nodded, swallowing down your food before you reply to them.

“Diego’s father missed his blood check the other day and a few other appointments he was suppose to come the last week. What bothers me is that Diego is denying everything of what he’s father is accounted for. His father has a history, and I’m afraid he’s being abused emotionally, that’s why he’s defending his father.”

Hayden nods in understanding, “He could be, but you could see how he’s trying to make it up to his son. Surely there’s a good reason why he’s been missing out lately. You did say he was working three jobs just to keep their family afloat, right?” You sighed, your eyebrows joined forming a crease in between.

“I hope you’re right about that.”

“Okay, enough talking about it. Let’s talk about what really matters right now.” They take your hand in theirs, soothing your upper hand in gentle strokes. “About us. Our relationship.”

You had wished they didn’t bring this up. It was difficult to say to them that you weren’t just ready to get married and settle down. Hayden had given you a month to think about it when they proposed to you after you gave them your answer. You had to admit but you didn’t see a future with Hayden at all. There was no point of being tied down to somebody whom you’ve lost interest since got knows when.

Finding the right words and the right reason to break it to them had your brain pulsing hard against your skull. You would’ve come out as a bitch, wasting away their time and years on you if you admit it now. Sooner or later, you have to tell them the truth.

You placed your free palm on top of theirs, mirroring the same action they did seconds ago. “I know you want an answer, but I just can’t give it to you. I’m sorry that I’m delaying it for so long and not giving you the answer you want. But I-I, I have so much to think about and I’m just too... too...” You stuttered.

“Too what, Y/N?” There was pain and sadness in their voice, but you could hear that little small hope voicing out.

“I’m afraid. I’m afraid of you losing me.” Lies. “That you’ll leave me and say that you’ve made the wrong decision in marrying me.” Lies. “That I never give you the time and affection you need and that I had distance myself from you.” Lies. That’s how you’ve managed to keep them wrapped around your finger all these years.

“No, no I would never think that baby.” They cupped your face in their palms, making you look at them. A concern expression washed over their face as they brush your cheeks with their thumb. “I’ll never leave you, what makes you think I would?”

“B-because, I’m not giving you what you want. You want a family. I don’t. Not right now, and I’m the obstacle that’s stopping you from getting what you want.” They pulled you into a hug as you wrap your arms around their neck. They sat you on top of their lap as your legs dangle over theirs. You feel their arms resting on your hips, soothing them by drawing circular patterns on your skin.

“You’re not an obstacle, baby. I’ll understand if you still need more time. Remember, I’ll always love you, okay? Don’t let those negative thoughts get to you. Come on, let’s clean up, wash up and get ready for bed, how’s that sound?” They pull you up so that your legs were wrapped on their hips before placing you on your feet and prepared to sleep.

Driving your black sedan up the roan, you read off the signs to find the right street before taking a right turn. The street was your typical suburban area. They were children playing on their lawns, some adults taking the time to mow them until you found the house you were looking for.

The roof of the house was tiled in red tiles, the wooden white planks had paint coming off from it, and streams of vines decorated the walls as they climbed up towards the roof. The windows were grimed and only the top floor had the windows opened. The lawn was unkempt, with weeds and bald patches popping up here and there. The house was surrounded with tall iron fencing that reached the height of your shoulders.

You caught movement coming from the corner of your eye and looked up to see a lady, her blonde hair in an updo bun as she takes a drag from the cigarettes she’s holding between her fingers. She only glances you for a second before disappearing into the darkness of the room as you make your way towards the front door.

Three knocks were all it took until you head heels clicking against the wooden floor on the other side. The door opens, a gap wide enough to see the person behind the door as it was secured by a safety chain to prevent it from being open any wider.

“Mrs. Langdon? I’m Y/N L/N. I’m here for your appointment.”

“It’s not the 17th yet.”

“Yes, it is, Mrs. Langdon. It’s the 17th today.”

“No, you’re wrong, sweetie.” Annoyed, you grab out the newspaper from your file bag and showed it right in front of her. “It’s the 17th. Today’s paper says so.”

She slams the door in your face, the sound of chains unlocking from behind and the door open, wider this time. She steps aside as she eyed you, gesturing you to enter. Once you’re in the foyer of the house, you take a good look at the place. It was cosy and homey, a different contrast as how she was dressed, elegance.

A little girl appears from the top of the staircase, looking down at you emotionlessly. Slowly, you call out to her, “Hey there. I wanna talk to you. Could you come down for a while?”

Light footsteps creaked the steps, as she descended down ‘til she was starting at you at eye level. “Hey there, sweetheart. My name’s Y/N. What’s your name?”

“Lily.” Her voice was soft, almost feathery. “Lily, what a beautiful name.” You turned to her grandmother, “Is there someplace we can talk?”

“Are we expecting Lily’s parents to be coming home soon?” You pipped.

Mrs. Langdon, or Constance as she preferred, only gave you a look, her dull eyes boring into yours before she takes another drag of her cigarette. “Lily’s parents are dead. I’m the only one she has left.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, “I’m so sorry. The file didn’t say anything about it.”

“What is it you want, darling? I haven’t got any time and you’re wasting precious hours. On with the questions.” She scoffed softly.

“Oh, right, sorry, um... I’m here because we received a call that Lilith has been showing serious signs of neglect. Now at this point we can only assume it’s the result of family problems.”

Constance chuckles, “I presume it must’ve been one of those nosy neighbours who called in? Family problems you say? It’s only darling Lilith and me in this house. We get along just fine. I’ve been taking care of Lilith since she was a baby. Her mother died from childbirth and her father is god knows where. We don’t have any family problems. Not that I know of.”

“Well, many families aren’t aware that they’re having family problems, not until they’re too late. And that’s where we come in. We help families communicate and learn healthier ways to resolving conflict.”

“I appreciate the kindness, but we don’t need your help. I think our time here is done. You can show yourself out.” She puffs thick white smoke as she gestures you to the front door.

A few days later, Constance was called in by your manager after you’ve given him many reasons as to why you might think Lily is in trouble.

You leaned against the wall inside of Wayne’s office, looking at the Constance and Lily who was sitting on the couch. “Well, I know I’m not the perfect grandmother for Lily, I know that but she knows I show my love and care for her in other ways. She knows how I feel about her.”

You could see Lily’s face churning and twisting in discomfort, “So, tell me, Mrs. Langdon, does it concern you that Lily’s grades have dropped from A’s to D’s in three months?”

“Of course, she’s my granddaughter.”

“So, you have no idea why your granddaughter falls asleep in class every day? Why she can’t sleep at home? No idea?” You turned to look at Wayne.

“And you’ve never slept in class before, Ms. L/N? I know I did.”

Staring out at the pair from inside your office, you turned towards Wayne with an annoyed expression, “Don’t tell me you felt for that?”

Wayne sighs, “Look, cut her some slack, she the only breadwinner of her family here. We can’t guarantee every kid here has a happy childhood. I wish we could.”

“Let me talk to her, alone just for five minutes.”

“We don’t have the case, Y/N.”

“Just five minutes. Talk to them about happy children and how much they love kids.”

You approached Lily who was standing beside the water cooler. A pair of girls had rushed right in front of you with their mother behind them, telling them to slow down. You smiled at the sight. “I’ve always wanted a sister growing up, don’t you? To play with and to talk to, things that you just can’t tell anybody else, you know? Did you ever wish that? That you had a sister?”

Lily remained silent, and you cursed yourself for forgetting that her mother had died ten years ago so the idea of having a sister wouldn’t have crossed her mind.

Sensing the awkward feeling between you too, you purposely lean over the water cooler and let the cold water hit your neck, prickling your skin at the sudden temperature. Lily giggled beside you, having caught her attention by the act you did.

“Well, that was a silly thing to do, wasn’t it?” You smiled at her. “What’s happening to you?”

You kneel down, so that you were at a child’s height. “You know I can help. Let me help you.” Lily starts to look distressed, looking around her and over her shoulder.

“What is it sweetheart?” You gently place a hand on her arms.

“She hates me.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t hate you.”

“She does. I hear her talking to herself in her bedroom.”

“What do they talk about?”

A few seconds of silence filled the air until she begins to talk again, whimpering and tears pooling in her eyes. “Sending me to hell. She calls me the spawn of Satan, and that I should’ve not been born.”

“You heard her say that?” She nods franticly.

It was a major bust to get Lily to say what she had told you. The recording evidence you need against Constance failed when Lily had said the opposite, allowing Wayne to close the case and told you to let it go.

Desperate, you seek help from an old friend.

“Y/N, what brings you here to my office?” Mike asked. You slide Lily’s case file across his desk.

“Well, well, well. It’s sitting right in front of me so I’m guessing our good friend Wayne has decided it fails to meet the criteria of child endangerment and has told you in no uncertain terms to leave it alone.”

“Surprise, surprise.”

He pushes the file back towards you, “Sorry, Y/N. I can’t.”

“Please Mike, I’m really desperate here.”

He tells you that the department doesn’t pay him enough to stake out potential child abusers and reminded you how it almost cost him his job the last time he helped. You chided in and told him how Lily’s grandmother wanted to send her to hell and called her the spawn of Satan. In the end he gave in and asked him to send him the evidence and files over, which you thanked him.

You laid across the brown couch, surfing through channels until your phone starts ringing. Thinking it was Hayden, whom you left voicemails minutes ago, you answered it in a cheery tone. “Too late, met someone else.”

“Y/N.”

“Lily?”

You could her the fear in her voice and the panic that was slowly increasing, her pants soft but sharp. She tells you that she’s scared and that Constance was waiting and ready to get her, her voice getting sleepier.

Quickly, you rushed out of your house and drove over her house, calling Mike for back up. Once you got there, the scene unfolding in front of you brought you to a shock. Constance had Lily locked in her oven, duct tape securing the handle to stop her front busting the door open. You struggled when you tried to rescue Lily out, having to fight against Constance as she pushes you away from the oven.

That is until Mike fends her off, knocking her down as you were quick to get Lily out from the oven before it could burn her.

As ordered by the judge, Constance had to undergo psychiatric evaluation until she is deemed fit for trial. On the other hand, Lily had been placed into a state home until they’re able to find her a new foster home. To help Lily fit in better in socialising and interacting with others, she would attend a group therapy in which children would voice out their opinions and share their problems with one another.

But something kept nagging at the back of your mind. You recall back to the day you met Lily at the hospital and how she wanted to stay with you instead. Also, when you had accompanied her to the state home, she brought it up again, giving you pleading eyes and a sad look that almost felt pitiful.

After going through documents and meetings, you got approval to become Lily’s temporary guardian before they find her a new foster home. When you reached your home, you showed her around, her eyes were twinkling like stars and her lips formed into a waxing crescent moon smile. She was happy, and you were happy too.

“What is this?” She asked, sipping the tea from her cup as you brushed her hair, detangling the strands to straighten them. “It’s chamomile. Helps me sleep.”

She takes a sip again before you spoke, “You know none of this should ever have happened. If I could make it go away, I would.”

“You did.”

You took away the cup from her and tucked her in bed.

You stared at the house from inside of your car. A dark ominous aura seeping out from the cracks of the walls. The longer you stared at it, the more it begins to bite back at you, shaking you to your bones with its soul-stirring presence.

The floorboards creaked against your shoes as you made your way up to the second floor. Turning to your left, you find Lily’s room, picking a soft teddy bear from the pile of toys placed near her window.

Adjacent to her room was Constance’s room. Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to caught your attention. There were Christ signs placed over the bed, a bible laying on the top of the dresser. How religious, you thought. That is until you saw strange white marks on the wooden floor that were hidden under the rug.

You flipped it over, and the mark continues towards the door of the room. You notice a few marks on the door as well, finding it perplexing that heavy bolts and chains were screwed behind it. It made you repulsed, thinking she was locking herself from her granddaughter.

“Wayne’s looking for you.”

“Wayne wants to see you.”

Reaching your cubicle, you find Wayne sitting on your desk, Diego’s file opened in front of him.

“What’s up with Diego?”

“Oh hey, Y/N. Why don’t we talk inside my office?”

“No, tell me what’s going on?”

Wayne sighed, “Well, we don’t... We don’t know why yet but he killed his parents last night.”

The information made you shudder, almost twisting your stomach in ways you could never thought it could.

You rushed to the scene, wanting answers on why he would do something like that.

“How did this happen?”

“Gets a tire iron from the garage, heads back inside. Locks all the doors and windows, kills them in their sleep.”

The parents’ bedroom was painted in red all over. The walls were splattered in blood, the pillows were soiled deep with blood, the sheets that were once white had turned red. The crime scene almost looked like it came out of a slasher movie.

“You expect me to believe a 10-year old could do such a thing?”

“I was there when they brought him in. Took three guys to subdue him, and the kid was climbing the walls.”

“You can’t blame yourself for this. Things happen. It’s unfortunate what happened with Diego but you can’t let that haunt you. You’re only one person, Y/N. You can’t save the world. But I know one person you did save.” Hayden comforts you, both their eyes and yours directed towards Lily who was playing with sticks near the lake.

Lily knew Hayden from group therapy, Hayden being the therapist for her sessions. They had worked with kids longer than you did, and that’s how you met since your field of work worked hand in hand with each other.

She had sensed something troubling you, stating how your job was stressful and hard. You admitted how she was right, telling her how parents are just complicated.

“Is that what your parents did? You said you were alone?”

“Yeah, my dad left me when I was young, and my Mum... my Mum passed away a few years ago.”

“Your parents must’ve made you lonely.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You don’t talk about it.”

One morning you caught her with a picture of your parents, one that was taken before your father left you, when everything was fine. She said she wanted to know you better. You reprimanded her nicely, telling her not to go through your things anymore. The same day, Mike had told you how Diego received a call coming from your house. You denied, saying you didn’t call them. Lily was suspected to have called him since he was in the same group therapy as she is. You could’ve guessed she took his phone number from your back up files that you stored in your cabinet. She refuted again and again. Saying she was telling the truth and that she didn’t call him that night. Everything was leading to nowhere.

It got more confused when you visited Diego, saying that Lily did call him that night. Except that it was a man who had called him, which got you puzzled.

“So, I want you to tell me, what scares you?” Hayden asked.

“I’ll tell you want scares me if you tell me what scares you.”

“Fair enough.” Hayden pauses, trying to gather his thoughts before answering her. “When I was young, I hated using the microwave. Silly right? I would get really terrified when the light turns on and the plate of food keeps spinning around. I get paranoid when the timer doesn’t go off, thinking the microwave would explode.

My brother thought it would be funny to put popcorn in it and let me watch. I saw how it slowly swell up, the packet getting bigger and bigger. Hated them ever since.”

“You can’t be that afraid of popcorn too?”

“Sure, you can, the popping noises brings me anxiety sometimes. Now’s your turn. What scares you?”

“Me.” Lily says simply. “You scare yourself?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why? What about yourself scares you?” Hayden asked, baffled.

“I have bad thoughts.”

“About what?”

“People.”

“People in general or certain people?”

“Certain people.” Lily answered.

“Like who?”

“You.”

“You have bad thoughts about me? Why?”

She smiles at you, “I just do.”

It went on a couple of minutes before Lily and Hayden walked out of the room. You could see tiny beads of sweat forming on their forehead. “I’ve talked to many kids, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that before.”

“Like what?”

“Threatened.”

The news broke your heart. You couldn’t think straight the whole day. Mike had given you in detail everything that happened.

An explosion had occurred in Hayden’s house, the cause of it came from the microwave. It was said to be malfunctioning while they were using it and the sudden impact and radiation had caused Hayden’s skin to burn, killing him instantly.

You loved Hayden, you really did. Mixed feelings intoxicated you, it was hard to come into terms, accepting that your lover was dead. However, a part of you felt lightened yet eating you away with guilt.

You snooped around the office, finding a package that was labelled and had a USB in it. Locking yourself in a secluded office far from the others, you plugged the USB in, which contained a video recording of Constance being interviewed.

You clicked on it, waiting for the video to load.

A man hidden behind the camera was talking to Constance, who was shown in the video.

“Take me through the conversation, Constance, about the oven.”

Constance spoke, “I was sending her back where she’s supposed to belong, in hell in fiery flames.”

“Why did you say that it was God’s will that you should kill your granddaughter?” Constance laughed, scoffing when she heard the question.

“Why is that funny, Constance?”

“Cause she’s not my granddaughter.”

“You think your daughter is the devil? Evil incarnate?”

She glances away from the camera, “I don’ care what you call it.”

“But you have stated that she kills people?” The man questions her. “Not by her own hand, they just die.”

She starts sobbing, “I had five children, three sons and two daughters, and three beautiful grandchildren.” She covers her face with her hands, whimpering as she spoke. “My youngest son was expecting his firstborn at the time with his wife. Soon as she was born, they just started dying. I guess she couldn’t get rid of me until she found somebody else.”

She looks back into the camera, almost staring into your soul from the screen. Shivers ran down your spine. You needed more information. Something wasn’t right about Lily lately.

The two guards sat her down in her chair in front of you. She was strapped in a straight jacket with an emotionless expression.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but you’re the only one I could talk to.”

She looks up to meet your gaze, her eyes in slits, squinting at you. “Who died?”

“A friend.” You spoke. “You’re scared. You ought to be.”

“Is she... What is she?”

Constance smirks, before a vexed look washed over her. “I can tell you what she’s not. She’s not my granddaughter, that’s for sure. She’s not a 10-year old having trouble in school and she’s not some innocent victim whose door you busted down and life you saved. She’s not going anywhere soon, darling. Not till she’s good and done with you.”

“Done with me how?” You asked. “However she wants. You think it’s an accident her ending up with you? She saw you coming a mile away.”

“Why me? I don’t have anything.”

“You have that you’re good, kindness, decency. That’s what she feeds on. Bleeds you dry, moves on to the next. We were a big family, she went through us like a wrecking ball. It’s like she sees everything, and what she doesn’t see, she senses.

Like when you call a friend and they pick it up before it rings? They say when you’re born, you’re given your eternal soul. The part of you that lives on, lives again. Whatever evil she is, didn’t come from my daughter. It was already there.

From the moment she came into being, she brought something with her. Something older, destructive. Soul of a demon.”

It takes you a moment to suppress all the information to you head. “What does she want?”

“To know what your idea of hell is, and make you live there.”

“Y/N, you petitioned for custody, you got it. She’s your responsibility, make it work.”

You sigh, “How? How do I make it work if it’s not working?”

Nancy explains, “With the same coping skills you teach these Mums and Dads every week. Walk the talk, Y/N. Walk the talk.”

As you wait for Lily’s group therapy to end, you see her walking towards another kid, whispering something inaudible in her ear. She was doing it again, until she saw that you were staring at her. You grabbed her out of the room, walking towards the elevator. “You are not going back there.”

“Why Y/N?” She repeats continuously until the both of you got inside. The elevator starts to shake vigorously before coming to a halt.

“Can I go to group next week?” Lily asked, innocently. “You’re not going back there.”

“Are you sure?” You could hear the cable starting to break and soon enough your descending down at a high speed, the lights flickering and you begin to feel the strong force against your chest.

The bell chimes and the elevator turn normal like before.

The obsidian sky turns dark, flickers of thunders spark with the occasional roar of thunders. You locked yourself in your room, ignoring Lily as you returned home.

Knocks on the door startle you, “Y/N? Y/N? Please, I know you’re in there.”

You brought up the knife towards your chest, ready to attack if anything happens. The knocks turn to loud bangs. You could hear screams and Lily pleading you to open the door.

“Let me in. Let me in. Let me in. Let me in. Let me in. Let me in.” The deadbolts on your door was the only thing securing you from her.

“GO AWAY!” You shout. It turned quiet, silent almost. A soft thump made you turned your head towards your closet beside you.

Bringing up the knife in your hand, you use your free hand to open the door in one swift movement. There was nothing, until a horrified deformed creature jumped at you. Its skin was burning off, exposing the red flash and arteries of the body. You scrambled away from it, quickly unlocking the bolts and running out from your house.

A bus with its light on was the first thing you charged for, seeing that the bus driver was still inside. You banged at the door, pleading for him to open it. The creature slowly catching up to you.

In the last second, he opens it and you yell at him to drive. He tells you there’s no one outside, and that only it was in your imagination. Leaving the bus, you head towards your car, grabbing the back up keys from under the boot of the car. Slowly you got in the driver’s seat.

“Leaving the child unattended is a jailable offence.” You screamed, shocked to see Lily in the backseat. She leans in closer, “You have to do what I say. If I say I want to go to group, you have to do it. If I say I want a new dress, you have to do it. If I say I want ice cream every day, after school, you have to do it, okay?”

You started sobbing, laughing almost at your unfortunate misery. “Don’t be sad. This is your new beginning.” She states, repeating the same word you once told her before. She caresses your hair in a loving manner, one that almost filled you in disgust.

“It they take her...”

“The whole thing starts all over again. You can’t let her go, you can’t let her stay. Leaves you one option.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Don’t tell me I don’t understand.” Constance argued. “You’ve had her, what, two months? I had her ten years. I had her for ten years. Think of it as a test of faith.”

“I don’t wanna have any faith.”

“How about anger? You got some of that?”

Silence past a few seconds.

“How? How do I...”

“Kill her?” Constance finishes for you. “In her sleep. That’s the only time you got the upper hand, is when she’s sleeping, but she almost never does. We checked on her room, every night for three months. First night she slept was the night that you busted in our front door.

I’ll tell you what I’d do different, count yourself dead at the outset. Accept that going in, use It to your advantage. If you’re not afraid, she can’t hurt you.”

You could hear the sound of Constance recording playing. You followed the sound to the living room, Lily was watching the recording from your laptop. “She did what I asked for a while and then she stopped, and started with the secrets. But they weren’t really secrets, I guess. Because I always knew what they were thinking. She stares back into the laptop screen, watching her grandmother with a look so indescribable.

Hours later, you received a call informing you that Constance was dead.

Panicked, you went to meet Mike, who said he wanted to show you something.

He had gone through you call logs, saying that Lily did call Hayden and that she was using your cell phone. He also believed that she called Diego too when he played you two recordings, one of Diego’s and Hayden’s.

“Her grandmother says I have to kill her.”

“I’ll help you.”

You’ve gotten prescription pills from the doctors, faking your insomnia and lack of sleep.

When you reached home, your entire place was a mess. You followed the trail of papers into Lily’s room where pictures of the children from her group therapy laid on the floor.

You found a cock board slipping out from underneath her bed. There were pictures pinned on them, with Diego and Hayden’s picture flipped, probably indicating of her recent kills. The next one in line was a picture of you and Mike. A dark heavy feeling sets on the pit of your stomach.

Vibrations came from underneath her mattress and you find your phone, ringing. You answered it, with Wayne telling you that Mike’s dead. You don’t know what to feel, pain, anger, frustration clashes inside you, Lily being the point of the reason, slow burning till you wish to rip her apart.

The sound of the flat screen playing startled you. Lily was sitting on the couch, eating popcorn. Irritated, you slammed the tv towards the floor, smashing it into pieces as glass flew all over the wooden floor. “Get out, get out of my house!” You yelled.

She brushed off the popcorn remains that you had slapped out of her hands, standing up and glaring at you. “Don’t yell at me!” Her face morphing into something sinister and her voice almost deep and inhuman.

You backed away from her, running towards your room to barricade yourself from Lily, or what was a manifestation of a little girl. You pushed every heavy furniture you had to the door.

“Emily, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Can I come in so we can talk and work it out?” Lily called out. At this moment, that little girl outside your room wasn’t human to you, not anymore. That little girl was nothing but a demonic creature disguise as an innocent being.

You picked it the screwdriver on the floor to protect yourself against the demon. The door suddenly starts bulging unusually, a strong force trying to break it down. The walls start cracking off the concrete, the bolts on the doors unhinging and coming loose.

The door starts to open and you used every single strength you had left to pushed it closed until the entire door is being sucked away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. You moved quickly, shifting under the bed to hide away Lily.

“Y/N. Y/N. We need to learn healthier ways of resolving conflict, Y/N.” She swats away the dresser in front of the bed effortlessly. “Most families don’t even know they have a problem, until it’s too late.”

She grabs on to the screwdriver that you left, walking around the bed till she stops by the side. In a blink of an eye, the screwdriver plunges into the wooden floor, the hand holding it was now bigger and veiny.

She crawls down to you, mocking you with her innocent bright smile as she tilts her head. “What are you doing, you silly pumpkinhead?” You could only stifle a choked laugh. “You don’t want me to come under there and get you, do you?”

“No.” You answered sharply. “I’m going to count to three. One, two...”

“No.” You shook your head, “Two and a half, two and three quarters, three. Here I come.” She teased. She crawls towards you. “No! What do you want?” You screamed.

“What you wanted from your father.” You blinked. “I want you to love me.”

“Okay,” You nodded. “I will.”

She backs away from the bed. “Come tuck me in.”

You smashed the sleeping pills into powdery form, mixing it together with the chamomile tea you just brewed. “Emily.” Lily calls you softly.

You smile at her as you enter her room, giving her the cup of tea for her to drink. Before she takes a sip, she stares at you, “Chamomile. Maybe you should have it, you look stressed.”

“I’ll have one later.” She gives you a look but it disappears after a second.

“I’m really sorry that I let things get like this.” You apologized. “We’ll do better from now on.”

“We have to.” Lily agrees. “Someone could get hurt.”

“What shall we do tomorrow?” You asked. “Surprise me.”

“I’m not so good at surprises.”

“You’re getting better.” She jibes at you playfully.

You made sure she was asleep, before you execute your plan. You locked her bedroom door, splashing crude oil all over the house and more on her door. You watched the matchstick as it starts to light up, trailing the entire house with flames. Walking out of the house, you see the flames start engulfing everything in its path, licking the exterior and burning them in seconds.

“Everybody got out okay?” A firefighter approached you. “Ma’am, anyone else inside? Yes or no?” You tuned him out as you saw Lily just a few metres away from you, unharmed and untouched. “That was mean.”

You followed the police from behind to go downtown you find you someplace to stay for a while. The ride was quiet until Lily spoke up, “Maybe we can find a hotel with a swimming pool.”

You swerved the car, exiting out of the freeway. “Where are we going?”

“You said I should surprise you.”

She smiles from the corner of your eye. Her legs tugged closely towards her chest. You could feel her staring at you.

“He hated your mother. He hated you too. Your mother lied about you, you were never his. You were just the product of one of your mother’s affairs. The day he left was the day he found out about the secrets, the lies. That’s why you kept delaying your answer for Hayden, refusing to marry him as you kept him chain to you.

But you weren’t any better than your mother, aren’t you? You let those men use you because you couldn’t cope over your father, isn’t that right, Y/N? You need a man to ground you down to fill that void inside you. That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it? Rejection.”

“What are you?” She smiles slyly at you as she turns to look out the window. You stepped on the gas, accelerating at high speed. “Slow down.” Lily demands.

“What the hell are you?”

“You’re upset, you shouldn’t be driving.” You increase the speed, cruising down the street and avoiding other cars.

Your vision begins to cloud, and a new image emerges, bringing you back to the same nightmare you were having.

“Sweetheart.” You looked up to see the same man hovering above you as he strokes your hair endearingly. “Dad?”

“That’s right, sweetie. Daddy’s here.” You rise up from your bed, startling him as you pulled him into a hug. You sobbed into his shoulder, “Please, don’t leave me.” You begged.

“Please don’t leave me. I know what Mum did was wrong. It wasn’t my fault. I never wanted this either. Don’t leave me, don’t leave me please.” You hugged him even tighter, afraid he would disappear. You begged and begged until you felt his arms around your waist.

“I know it isn’t sweetheart. It’s not your fault. I love you, so so much.”

It wasn’t your fault indeed. What Lily said was the truth but your father didn’t leave you because he found out you weren’t his biological daughter. He left because he was sick. He thought that by leaving, it would take the pain of losing him easier when he died if he stayed.

He was wrong, it traumatized you into thinking that he didn’t love you and only increased your fear of rejection from men. You didn’t know because you couldn’t keep in touch. But it was time to let go of the past and your fears with it. Setting free your inner demons and to be at peace with yourself. It was time.

You were no longer afraid. You let those bad thoughts get into your head that’s why you couldn’t think and see clearly. Now that you’ve overcome it, everything felt different. You could breath easily without having the ghosts of the past hung over your shoulders and weighing you down.

“Are you scared?” You asked Lily. “I’m not.”

You swerved the car, accelerating it towards a nearby port – nosediving the car into the water. The car sunk deeper and deeper until it reaches the bottom. Lily unbuckles her seat belt, trying to escape as you reached for her hand – restraining her. She smiles at you, a smug look appearing on her face. Her side of the door opened – revealing a man who’s trying to free her, dragging her up towards the surface.

The pressure of the water starts pressing against your skulls, your lungs compressing sharply as your heart starts to pump more blood through your lungs and entire body. When you regain consciousness, you were laying down on a stretcher, and oxygen mask around your nose and mouth. Your body temperature felt really cold despite the layers of blanket covering you.

As they lift you into the ambulance, you saw the demonic creature – dissimulating herself by painting a scared and terrified expression on her innocent face. I’ve failed, you thought. Now, all that’s left is the consequences that awaits you.

“Where is she?!” You slammed your cuffed hands against metal table. “WHERE IS SHE?! Is she with that family? I need to talk to them, I need to talk to them! Do you hear me?!” You pleaded with your lawyer. He could only sigh, frustrated over your uncooperativeness. The door behinds you open, “I’m afraid your time’s up.” The officer spoke. “You have a visitor, Ma'am.”

A visitor? You wondered. Could it be Wayne, you figured. The officer grabs you off your seat and escorts you down to the meeting room. There were a few families there, visiting the other inmates of the prison. “Over there.” He brings you towards a young man, wearing a suit all clad in black with a red tie. He had wavy curled blonde hair reaching till his nape. His eyes swirled of apatite.

Like he had sensed you coming, he shifts his bored gaze from the table to you. You take a seat opposite from him – studying his features and enigmatic demeanour.

“Hello, Ms. L/N.” He greets, his voice sultry with a tint of firmness in them.

“Do I know you, sir?” You questioned. He bids you a smile, one where his lips are pressed to form a thin line. “My name’s Michael. Michael Langdon.”

“Langdon?”

“I’m sure my mother has talked about me before. Of how all her children had died? Is that right?”

“How are you here? How are you still alive?” He chuckles. “I must say, I do applaud your bravery for trying to kill my precious daughter. However, I wasn’t very pleased with your doing. Not at all.”

You stared at him, baffled. “Daughter? You’re Lily’s father?”

He gestures his hand, “That’s right. I’m Lily’s biological father.” He leans further into the table. “I’m sure you’re keen to know how and why, aren’t you?”

“Well, my story is really heart-wrenching and painful to talk about.” He expresses sarcastically. “It’s almost on par as yours.”

“And why is that?”

“Because, sweetheart. You and I are much more alike than you think you are.”

“In what way?”

“We both have daddy issues.” He giggles. “Apart from my siblings, I’m the only one in the family that does not share the same father as they do. I was a bastard, you could call that. The product of one of my mother’s affairs. Little did she know that she had just let the devil himself fuck her before planting his seed to grow inside her.

Alas, I was born. I knew something was fairly off about me and when I realised who I truly was, I concealed it from my family. In time, they all started growing their own family. You could say I was getting a little jealous.

So, I breed the first virgin I laid my eyes on – casting a spell on her to act as my loving fiancée then wife. She died from childbirth, pushing Lily out took a toll on her body, and when I laid my eyes on the precious little bun in my arms, I knew she had it inside her all along, that darkness.”

“Why did you leave her then? Why you let your mother take care of her?”

“It was irresponsible for me, I know. Leaving my child under her supervision, faking my own death and not being there for her really wounded me. But I needed to do all this for what’s coming.”

“What is coming?”

“An uprising. A war shall arise in which we will rule over Earth and everyone – or what’s left of them. Together with Lily, we shall bring down everything into ashes.”

“You’re trying to make the end of the world happen?”

“I’m not trying, sweetheart. I’m making it happen.”

Your meeting with Michael ended and it was back into your prison cell. You pondered over what he had told you hours ago. The memory still fresh and lingering around you. Was he really going to do that? And what’s the use of Lily for his plan?

“Did you meet up with her?” Lily asked, looking up from her ice cream cone, licking at it.

“I did.” He takes her hands in his, the little one enclosed in his large ones. “Do you like her?”

“Hmm... almost. Maybe if she cooperates with me after a few more visits, she’ll come around to accept the offer I’m about to propose.”

“Really? What are you going to offer her?”

“To be your new mother. Would you like that, my angel?” Lily nods, laughing giddily in excitement over the news as she wounds her little arms around her father. “I’m sure you do.”

[raging-violets]

~"Stop moving!" for Zack and Riley

Zack slumpedto the side. Then sat up straight, dropping his hands between his knees. He staredforward for a second. Then he relaxed his shoulders, puffing out his chest tostretch his back, and turned to the side, resting his feet on the bottom rungsof the stool next to him. He sat still, stared at the wall in front of him, hismind growing blank…for all of five seconds before the realization that his backwas starting to itch made him start to wiggle back and forth, hoping theroughness of the fabric moving across his back would scratch it—

“Look!”Riley huffed, ripping a half-started sheet of paper out of her sketchbook. Shecrumpled it up and threw it to Zack, watching as it harmlessly bounced off hisforehead. A smirk pulled at her lips as she curled her hands over the top ofthe pad, resting her chin on it. She tapped her fingers in a steady beat beforesaying, “I know it’s hard for you to sit still for more than a micro second, matebut can you please stop wiggling around?”

Zack’sshoulders immediately dropped, lower lip sticking out in a pout. “I’m sorry.”He sounded anything but. “But if I’m going to sit here and stare blankly atsomething, I need motivation.” He watched a wave of trepidation move over herface, through her blue eyes, and waited for her to give in to ask.

As sheusually did.

It didn’ttake long.

“Like?”Riley finally prompted.

“Like…” Zackthought for a second and rolled his eyes. He turned toward Riley, curling hisfingers around the edge of the stool, leaned toward her. “Have you ever listenedto Cody talk before?”

Riley liftedan eyebrow. She tilted her head, training her eyes on him. “I’ve listened.”

“No, I mean really listened to him.” Zack twirledhis finger beside the side of his head. “He doesn’t say anything, he just goes on and on and on and on.” He opened andclosed his hand like a mouth moving. “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.”

“I’m suremany people could say the same thing about you.”

“At least I’vegot something to say.”

“Like you’redoing now?” Riley flipped to a clean page on her sketchbook, lying it acrossher lap.

Zack droppedhis hand to his lap, pouting as he always did when he was compared to hisbrother. Lest, his pout wilted to an almost haughty expression. “At least I’mnot boring.”

“Really,mate? ‘Cause this whole convo is lulling me to sleep, yeah?” She picked up thepencil she’d stuck behind her ear when she tore apart her drawing. “It’s onlyfor an hour, I just need you to sit still so I can finish this drawing.” Zacksighed heavily through his nose, tilting his head back. “You didn’t have to dothis.”

“And miss mychance to be openly checked out?” Zack folded his arms. He lowered his chin,shooting her another haughty look once more. “C’mon Sweet Thang, you know I can’tresist.”

“Yeah, Idoubt your ego would be able to handle not being the center of attention formore than a second.” She cast him a withering glance, pointing the sharpenedend of her pencil at him. “And stop calling me that.”  

“Sure thing,Hot Stuff.”

“Zack!”

Zack held uphis hands, ducking when Riley flung her pencil at him. It arced through the airtoward his head, landing harmlessly among the carefully stacked paintings, sculptures,and works from other students—students who had the foresight to come up with atopic for their assignment of ‘feeling’. A peal of laughter escaped Zack’s lips,filling the room, echoing off the corners.

Even Rileycouldn’t help but allow herself to laugh, leaning forward to hide her facebehind her sketch pad. Finally, with a smile in her voice, she said, “Can you pleasejust fucking sit still? I really want to finish this today. And you promised tohelp me.”

“Okay! Okay!”Zack threw his hands into the air, laughter fading. “What do you want me to do?”

“Sitthere. Pose! I don’t care!” She ran her hand along the now clean, empty page infront of her. Lowered her voice to a murmur. “Just stop moving.”

“Fine.”

Zack movedinto a comfortable position, rounding his shoulders forward into a comfortable slumpthat he’d grown into over years of playing video games for hours on end. Herelaxed his jaw, allowing his teeth to part slightly, allowing his tongue toflatten against his teeth. Moved his lips into what was neither a smile nor afrown—an almost playful smirk, his eyelids falling to a fraction abovehalf-lidded. A look that others would’ve brushed off as him being lightyears awaybut was the exact opposite.

He’d neverbeen more focused. Listening as Riley motioned to her face with a wave of herhand saying, “Look at me.”

As if he’dever wanted to look anywhere else.

With everypencil stroke and every line Riley blended together, Zack watched the intenseattention she gave him. How she visibly started with his head, keeping her eyeson his, slightly flickering left and right to take in all of his face. Then workedher way down, making her frown and twist almost sideways, mimicking his postureat one point, to take in his upper body.

Zack felthimself become a bit nervous then, his stomach twisting. Wondering what it was shewas seeing, what it was she was recreating on paper. He was no Joe Schmo, thatwas for sure. His own ego aside, his parents were very attractive and made cutechildren. Even Cody, who Zack was sure would never get a girlfriend, had enoughattention from girls long before Zack figured out how to successful woo them thatalways made him burn with jealousy.

But now…nowin a quiet room where he had nothing but Riley’s undivided attention, Zack feltnaked. The thought of it alone scared him. Everyone said he wasn’t fat but… Zackturned his eyes down, suddenly ashamed.

“Eyes on me,boofhead,” Riley reminded him gently, though the teasing edge to her voice unmistakable. He snapped his gaze back to her.

Wonderedwhat it’d be like if he were drawing her, which part he’d focus on the most. He’dprobably simply just stare at her while sullenly trying to draw anything but astick figure with some hair crudely drawn on. His artistic capabilities weren’tso advanced, but he certainly would want to focus on her eyes.

Eyes that,even when the rest of her face was blank, could betray what they were reallyfeeling. But, Zack learned from experience, one had to be careful trying tofigure out. Anger could cover sadness, happiness could cover pain, and yethappiness could be happiness with nothing in between.But if he were to draw hereyes, he had to draw her nose. The nose that housed all the freckles thatspread to her cheeks, giving her a shockingly youthful look compared to thehardness of her resting face, having seen too much pain over the years.

She drew himseriously. She didn’t want to lower his already fragile self-esteem—though hewas never quick to admit it. Some of him was covered by the shadows cast fromthe lightning in the room, making her job easier, almost making it easier forhim. He could hide in the shadows, giving much less for her to work with. Inthe different poses he kept himself in before, it was only seconds beforediscomfort covered him.

Right then,he wasn’t uncomfortable. The whole time Zack watched her just as intently asshe was watching him. Occasionally his eyes would flicker from her own, allowinghim to take in the big picture of her; of her tongue poking just slightly out betweenher lips. A small smile would spread across Zack’s face when he saw her glanceup to look at him again, seemingly to become even more focused each time shedid so.

Zack wasn’tsure how much time had passed by the time his butt started to grow numb. Itcouldn’t take that long to work couldit? She might have elongated the process by a few minutes or so. Zack didn’twant to speak, in fear of ruining the moment. She just looked so serene as sheworked; so peaceful. The more she drew, the more comfortable he became.

He lovedevery minute of it.

But he wasstill human, and no human could ignore a numb ass on a stool. Zack parted hislips, took a breath, ready to speak. “Are you—”

“—If you say‘draw me like one of your French girls’, I’m going to kick your ass,” Rileysaid so monotone that Zack couldn’t help but laugh.

“I was goingto say you’re taking your time,” Zack said.

Almost as ifa trance were broken, Riley leaned back and asked, “You want to look good, yeah?”

“I alwayslook good.”

He wasrewarded with a light roll of her eyes. “I want a good grade,” she said simply.Yeah, right. She couldn’t get a bad grade even if she tried. It was of the few classeswhere you could turn work in late and still have it be graded fairly. Finally,she leaned back, scrutinized the page, and scribbled her hand in the corner ina flourish—signing it. “Finished.” She set her pencils aside and beckoned himtoward her. “Come see.”

Instead,Zack leaned forward and grabbed the leg of her stool, pulling her across the floorto him. The screeching of the legs across the linoleum floor almost—but notquite—covered Riley’s amused giggle. Finally, she turned it toward him.

Zack stared.

It took afew moments for him to blink. To take in every part of his face; of the darklyshaded areas, to the lighter ones, taking in his own reflection. He may as wellbe looking in the mirror. It almost worried him that the drawing didn’t moveevery direction he did as he shifted back and forth.

Zack smiled.

“Do you likeit?” Riley’s voice turned soft, questioning. She twisted her fingers together infront of her before bringing up her leg hand to rub at her right arm. “What doyou think?”

“I think you’dgive all those old farts in any museum a run for their money,” Zack said. Hiseyes lit up at the thought. “How much do you think you’d make off this? Off drawingother people? If you market this right, you can easily make a pretty penny.” Helaughed when Riley elbowed him in the side, giving him a disapproving look. “Can’tblame a guy for trying.”

“So you’regoing to pimp me out just to get some cash?” Riley scowled at him, eyesflashing. A look he’d seen many times before and easily knew how to appease. Akiss to her cheek did as much.

“No, theonly pimping I’m going to put you through is to myself,” Zack said, earning aroll of the eyes. “I’ve got exclusive rights to the artist and everything shewants to bring to any and all personal meetings.” He paused an added, “The art’sgood too, I guess.”

“You guess?”Riley brushed her cheek with her shoulder and folded her arms. “What do youknow about art?”

“Nothing.”The answer was so simple that Riley chuckled quietly. Then he tossed aflirtatious grin her way. “But I know it when I see it,” his eyes well awayfrom her drawing and instead on her form. She blushed, but continued to smilebroadly. “So.” Zack slid his arm around Riley’s waist, drawing him to her lap.No, she easily sank against him, looping her arm around his neck, leaning backagainst him, seamlessly molding against his body. “You never told me.”

Riley turnedto him, her cheek brushing his, eyelashes fluttering across his cheek. Her eyebrowsquirked up, eyes widening almost imperceptivity but giving an air of curiosity.“Never told you what?” Zack felt his heart soar—trying his hardest not to focuson how it affected his whole body—enjoyingthe way her deeper, accented voice reached his ears so cleanly.

“What the topicwas. Why you wanted me to pose for you.”

Riley liftedher eyebrows. “Mm. Does it matter?”

“No.” Zackslid his hand into her hair, gently running his fingers through the silkystrands. He looked up at her, taking in her dark blue eyes and her longeyelashes. He could see every freckle on her cheeks, rounding over her nose,and every fleck of brown in her eyes.

Zack leanedforward and closed the gap between them. He slowly moved his lips against hers,holding her head gently, almost cradling it in his grasp, the other moving upto cup her chin. He held her close for several seconds, radiating in the warmthof her body against him. Remind him that she chose him over everyone else; ableto see past every insecurity with a snarky comment and a patient—bordering onimpatient at the worst of times–dose of reality and vice versa.

Zack’sbreathing slowed as he pulled back from the kiss. He stopped and stared at hereyes.

Her intenseeyes.

He had a feelinghe knew which one she chose.

“Hey,” Rileygreeted, lips pulling back into a dazzling smile.

Zack’s lipstugged back. “Hey,” he replied.

[perlocutionary]

Christmas Miracle, pt. 2 - Dylan O’Brien

Description: . Spending the holidays at Dylan’s wasn’t right in Y/N’s comfort zone, but it seems his grandmum will do anything to make everything even more awkward. Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Title: Underneath the mistletoe Word count: 2021

A/N: Not really anything. This is based off my grandmum so now you know what it was like for me to bring a guy around for the holidays. Let me know what you think! xox @minhosmeanhoe @mf-despair-queen

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

I don’t know how long we had been on the road when I saw the indicative sign, informing me that within the next twenty minutes, we’d arrive at our destination and I was to see Dylan’s family again. The thought alone made my skin crawl and I take uneven, harsh breaths as I stare out the window, mentally preparing myself for the intrusion I would be causing – on Christmas, nonetheless. Dylan assured me that his parents were fine with it, and would love to have me over, but there was something I couldn’t shake.

“Stop worrying so much, I’m fearing you might drop dead before we even arrive. You know everyone, it’ll be fine.” Dylan states matter-of-factly, his large hand landing on my thigh and giving it a firm, assuring squeeze. My head snaps back to my handsome best friend, behind the wheel of Roscoe, a gift from the Teen Wolf days, his tongue poking the corner of his mouth before he shoots me a toothy grin.

I rest my hand on his before shoving it off my leg, forcing him to drop it onto the seating between us. A playful glare rests on my features as I stick my tongue out. “The more you say that, the less I believe it. Let a girl worry in peace.” A sigh escapes him, a little shake of his head accompanying the sound. He comes to a sudden halt and my eyes widen when I see we’re in his driveway. “Worry quickly then, because we’re here.”

I stand beside Dylan in the freezing cold as he retrieves our duffel bags from the back, shivering from head to toe as I overlook the colorful fairy lights decorating Dylan’s childhood home. I reach out for my bag as soon as Dylan has it in his large hand, his other, free hand, swatting me away almost instantly. “Let me. Go on up, it’s too cold outside.”

Instead of listening and taking up on his offer, I keep standing beside him until he has everything he needed and slams the back of the car closed. I’m trailing behind Dylan, my hand fisting his thick coat as he pushes the front door open, music and chatter immediately greeting us as he enters.

“Dylan! Baby! And Y/N! Oh, it’s been so long! Too long!” Dylan’s grand mum is the first to greet us and after she has given her grandson the wettest kiss of a life time, I’m engulfed in a hug you could only get from a grand mum. “Mrs. O’Brien, lovely to see you again.”

“The pleasure is all mine, dear.” She grins toothily at me as she holds me at arm’s length, staring me up and down before giving me an approving nod. I jump on the spot when her hand loudly smacks Dylan’s biceps, who winces in fake-pain as he glares at his grand mum.

“Took you long enough!” I witness Dylan’s eyes widen drastically and his grand mum clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, a sly grin curving her lips upward as her fingers wind around my wrist. “To bring her here for the holidays, of course. Y/N, come on, you have to try these cookies.” The scent of freshly baked cookies waves toward me and I stop in my tracks.

I take a huge sniff of air and I sigh in pure bliss, eyes snapping open again when Dylan’s grand mum pulls me further into the kitchen. “Ah, Y/N! Welcome dear. Happy holidays!” Dylan’s mum greets me, her arms waving around my shoulders to haul me against her chest. I tense, only slightly, as I reciprocate her hug briefly, stepping away immediately after.

“Thank you for having me over, Mrs. O’Brien. If there’s anything I can do to help…” I offer her my services, smiling tightly at her, only relaxing when I see Dylan in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his chest, watching me interact with his mom.

“Oh, no, no, dear. You go enjoy some time with Dylan.” She pats me on the shoulder, turning around and grabbing a plate stacked up to the top with delicious treats for everyone. The next part that slips her lips has me widening my eyes in pure shock.

“I always knew you’d end up together.” Dylan’s mum hums as she passes me, winking at me while waving through with a large plate of freshly baked goodies. My gaze snaps to Dylan, whose cheeks are tinted a bright pink and his lips tightly pushed together. He makes no move to correct his mother though. My eyebrows furrow and Dylan’s mouth contorts into something that should portray confusion, his shoulders shrugging as he lifts his hands to his sides.

I smile, rolling my eyes at him before my attention is snagged away by his grand mum offering me a cookie. “Oh, thank you.” I sink my teeth into it, loudly moaning before my eyes widen in shock and my hand moves to cover my mouth. I see the mischievous twinkle in her eyes and it only remind me of Dylan when he’s about to do something I disapprove of. “Almost as good as – “ Dylan interrupts his grand mum abruptly as he steps in, taking a cookie of the plate himself as he drags me out of the kitchen with him. “You have to see my mom’s decorations this year, they’re amazing.”

Instead of asking Dylan what his mom was on about, I decided to wait until after the holidays. I wouldn’t want this to end poorly because Dylan and I got into a fight. So, instead, I smile brightly as Dylan drags me over to the humongous Christmas tree, filled to the brim with ornaments. “It is, indeed, amazing.”

“Come sit with me.” Dylan pulls at my wrist, dropping me onto the sofa next to him. He lets go of me to grasp my ankles and fit my legs between his, my upper body already leaning against his shoulder, his arm thrown around my shoulders.

“Say, Dyl.” His mom interrupts our stare and we both gaze up, seeing the woman wipe her hands along her apron as she approaches. “You bring this lovely lady over, but where is she going to sleep?” Dylan’s grand mum appears as well, a toothy grin ever-so-present on his lips as she slaps her hands together.

“I am an old woman and I am not sharing my bed with any of them. I had to do that too many years with your grandfather. He snores, you know?” She winks at me and a chuckle leaves my lips, although I feel the anxiety rise again. I hadn’t even considered the fact that their might be no room for me to stay, and I hadn’t given any of it a second thought.

“I’ll just sleep on the couch, if that’s okay.” I try to make amends, but his grand mum won’t have any of it. A shake of her head shuts me up immediately. “Oh no dear, you two can sleep together. I’ll take Dylan’s room.” The twinkle in her eyes makes me fear the worst, although her grin doesn’t do anything but aid her mischievous glint.

“Oh – I  - uh – “ I start off, cheeks flaming red as I stare at Dylan. The best we had ever done with sleeping together was me falling asleep on his couch after a movie night – back in the day when he still had a girlfriend. “Grandma, why do you do this?” Dylan groans and I see his cheeks are the same color as I am sporting, if not worse, and relieves some of my own tension as it draws a giggle from me.

“Because you are adorable when you blush. Don’t you think so, Y/N?” And I know that now I am more ashamed than Dylan could ever be. I nod my head, although I wasn’t sure if I had actually moved at all, and his grand mum claps her hands together again. “Then it’s settled. We’ll eat in an hour.” Her dismissive tone is accompanied by her retreating into the kitchen, leaving both Dylan and I’s cheeks a fiery red.

“Okay, not that shaming me is out of the way…” Dylan starts, pausing as he reaches behind the arm rest of the sofa, fumbling and mumbling while I stare at the television.

“I know I wasn’t supposed to get you anything…” Dylan breaks the silence and I snap my head to his, immediately glaring as he wavers to continue. “So I got you something, that would sort of – uh – benefit me as well.” Dylan grins as confusion laces through my features, my hands reaching out to accept the small box Dylan holds out to me.

“What is it?”  I jiggle, hoping to determine its contents by the rattling sound, but come up with nothing. Dylan chuckles as I drop the gift back into my lap, toying with the intricate bow on top. “Open it up.”

I take my sweet ass time, gently untying the bow and dropping the lint onto Dylan’s lap before making my way through the adhesive tape that seems to be everywhere. Dylan grins stupidly at me as I cock an eyebrow, chuckling inwardly as I’m left with a simple, plain white box. My heart is pounding in my throat as I gently lift the lid of the box, peeking inside reveal something completely unexpected.

“Mistletoe?” I purse my lips before pushing them into a straight line, rather dumbfounded of its meaning. Dylan’s hand reaches out, large fingers wrapping along the stem and he holds it up. “What do you do underneath a mistletoe?”

He smiles nervously as he witnesses my eyes widen and my mouth drop open slightly, realization sinking in. A blush heats up my cheeks as I avert my gaze, suddenly very shy with Dylan’s proximity. I could be reading into this completely wrong and make a fool out of myself, but damn if my insides weren’t screaming at the fact that Dylan had implied a kiss.

Dylan’s hand cups my jaw and tilts my head toward his, his gaze flicking between my lips and my eyes, searching for anything that indicated him needing to stop. A breathless sigh passes me, my gaze flicking up to the mistletoe he is holding just above our heads, before reconnecting my gaze with his.

Just as he is about to seal our lips, his face hovering mere inches from mine, I get the scare of a lifetime. “What is that doing here? It should be above the door now, shouldn’t it?” I almost jump out of Dylan’s embrace and off the sofa when his grand mum’s voice breaks the tension, my hand pressing harshly against my chest as I feel my heartbeat hammer against it. Dylan’s grand mum looks smug, plucking the little twig from Dylan’s hands and running off with it, a giggle leaving her lips before she disappears from sight.

I stare after her and it’s Dylan’s hand dropping from my face that refocuses my attention towards him. At first, he looks absolutely furious, but it discards into something more of agony when he looks back at me. “Unbelievable.” His fingers find mine and he intertwines them, shyly looking up as all I can do is reciprocate with a smile.

I squeeze his hands, leaning my upper body a bit closer and inviting him for a second try. His eyes twinkle underneath the fairy lights, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a harsh swallow, as he leans in again. “Dylan, dear! I need you in the kitchen.”

This time, a loud, aggravated groan leaves Dylan’s lips as his grand mum speaks again. “For fucks sake.” He keeps still, squeezing his eyes closed and taking a deep, calming breath. “Dylaaaaan.” “I’m sorry.” He sighs, pulling his hands from mine and raising to his feet, stalking to the kitchen, passing his grand mum on the way, who shoots me a wink before disappearing behind her grandson.

“Sneaky lil’ bitch.” I mumble, making myself comfortable on the sofa as I close the small gift box still in my lap.

Taglist: @ssweet-empowerment @fuckwhateverfuck

[natalia-demichelis]

Running Out of Excuses.

((Warning: Long read and contents of this RP cannot be used for IC knowledge without prior consent))

Wildbell was always lovely during the bright light of day with sprawling gardens filled with manicured flower bushes and ponds filled with all manner of fish and swans. In contrast however, a strange enchantment took over the estate at night with bright full moonlight cascading into the master suite where the newlyweds slept. Well at least one of them did. Soft chocolate hues scanned over the resting handsome features of her beloved husband before she leaned in and pressed the most gentle of kisses to his cheek just above the stubble that was starting to grow in. Her nude form pulled itself from the bed that she had slept alone in for several years, glad to have him to share it with now. White silken fabric draped over her slender frame as she pulled on a simple night robe on and meandered out to the balcony that overlooked the moonlight drenched grounds.

Pleasant dreams gave wake to wakefulness as the body lying alongside him began to shift. Heavy lids pulled open, only to catch a glimpse of his newly minted wife beyond the balcony doors. Thumb and middle digit rose and dug into the corners of his eyes in a poor attempt at chasing away sleep, before he pulled himself from the comforts the bed provided. While decency was the furthest from his mind, he covered the sharp curvature and carved features of his form with a robe and pulled himself into a stance. Both arms went over head, easing tired muscles into a stretch as he followed her onto the balcony. Moonlight filtered through the clouds and cast a silvery haze upon the grounds below-- was it early morning or late evening? He truly didn't know. "Dare I ask," He spoke gruffly and gravely, sleep unrelenting. "...Lady Holt, what has found my wife from our bed?" He crept up behind her, lightly dragging the ridges of his knuckle along the sleek arc of her spine.

Lost in her own thoughts, Natalia hadn’t heard Kaidren stir out of bed and make a path to her. It wasn’t even until his knuckle ran down her spine, eliciting a small jump accompanied with an involuntary shiver, that his baritone words registered in her mind. “It’s too warm for me to be able to sleep,” she smiled fondly over her shoulder at him. “I thought I’d maybe cool off out here.” She turned to face him, soft feminine hands rising to rest upon his broad chest. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

“You didn't disturb me, my love..." He mused, twirling a strand of her dark hair around his index. "...Your absence did." Burying his face in her hair and indulging in the sweet, flowery aroma tangled amidst her strands, he pressed a kiss to the back of her head and rounded her form, digging his right hip into the stone banister. "So, Lady Holt..." The corner of his mouth ticked upward with a hint of humor. "...what do you have planned for you and I while we are here in your barony? Horseback riding... picnics... meeting the townsfolk?" Cerulean irises flick across her form, one hand lifting to pull a few strands of her hair from the arc of her cheek.

Long, black eyelashes fluttered down to rest upon the upper crest of her cheeks, feeling his body heat emanating from him through the thin fabric of her robe. She silently craved his touch with every breath she breathed, needing to fill her nostrils with the scent of sandalwood and scotch that she associated with him. A soft hum of contemplation sounded from her as she hugged her slender form before opening her eyes to look at him. “Introducing you to those within my lands would be wise and necessary, but I am feeling a bit selfish and want to keep you to myself just a little longer.”

While leaning against the stone banister, Kaidren extended both limbs in order to draw her into his embrace and tuck her head beneath his chin. "It is perfectly reasonable to want to be selfish; I feel that way every time I am forced to choose between your company and work. However," he paused, another breath inward allowing her scent to pervade his nostrils and filling the immediate milieu with the sound of his contentment. "I have you for the rest of my life... so I am not all that upset when we part... I have the thought of coming back to you to look forward to."

He lowered his head and pressed his lips to the center of her forehead; the warmth of his kiss lingered far longer than he intended, though only managed to give validation to the adoration he held for her. However, once his butterfly kiss ended, he found his mouth ensnared in another kiss, one in which he added to by tightening his arms around her waist and tensing his jaw. "I'd feel sorry for any of the villagers that proclaimed they loved me more than you, Lady Holt. " The edges of his mouth tug upward in a faint grin. "Or anyone, for that matter."

The ball of her foot left the floor, hovering just an inch above it while her arms around his neck pulled him in even closer if that was possible. She leaned in and nipped him gently and playfully on his nose, a complete contrast of the proper lady he had courted. Natalia was completely at ease with him now and she felt free to be playful when it was just them two. “No one can love you as much as I do, My Lord.” Another sweet kiss was pressed to his lips before she canted her head to the side, her coffee colored tresses tumbling forward in a cascade over her shoulder. “I had an idea I wanted to run by you.”

Kaidren's right arm tightened around her waist and hoisted her up enough so that his returned kiss would be unimpeded by her height. He held her aloft for many moments before returning her to the stonework below. "No one, Lady Holt?" The corner of his mouth ticked upward in a hint of humor in the same motion as his eyebrow coming to quirk high into his forehead. After the many butterfly kisses that left her sweetness on his lips, he lowered his mouth to the center of her forehead and eased close; the embrace was soft, gradual, and not something born of force or a sudden need. "An idea, you say?" He loosened his grip upon her form and relaxed back against the banister separating them from the rest of the world. "By all means, my Lady... do tell."

The hum that reverberated from her through his embrace and affection was one of complete content. She bobbed her head in a light nod. “Seeing as we are now married and will take up residence permanently in Addlewood... I was wondering if you would consider making Wildbell our summer home?” Perfectly manicured brow’s lofted hopefully at him, wondering if it seemed as odd a request as it sounded to her. “It’s just... It’s my home and I can’t imagine spending the summer anywhere else.”

Kaidren tipped his head toward the left and then the right, obviously giving merit to her hope...which was hidden behind a veiled question. Lips purse thoughtfully, fingertips lifting to push away strands of coffee-hued tresses from her features. "You may do what ever you like with Wildbell; it is yours, after all... and if it'd make you happy that we spend the summers here, then that is what we'll do." The corner of his mouth pulled upward into a veritable smile, almost displaying the bashfulness she should've been. "...the fact that you had to ask such a silly question astounds me, Lady Holt."

The all too familiar pink color of her embarrassment flooded her cheeks. “This is why I love you, Kaidren Holt. I couldn’t have asked for a better husband if I had been given the choice of... all the men in Azeroth.” She closed her eyes, feeling a touch dizzy suddenly. Her eyes blinked, letting her head become re-balanced, even as she kept her arms wrapped around Kaidren’s neck. As she had done for more than a month now, the Baroness pretended as if nothing had happened, and smiled up at him. “I think we ought to set a date, an official one, don’t you?”

The soft pad of his thumb brushed against the blossoming hues along her cheeks as an expression of longing tugged at the outer ridges of his features; it wasn't that he was missing something, but in actuality he was content and longed for the future that lingered patiently upon the horizon. As her lashes pinched closed, Kaidren's brows knit with concern; true, it was only a few seconds in passing, but such instances have occurred frequently in the last month and could hardly be ignored. "Are you well, my Lady?" Perhaps it was simply his nerves and paranoia nipped at the back of his neck-- it seemed, every time he allowed himself to be happy, tragedy struck. Without her having to respond, he drew in a deep breath and pulled her close, leveling his lips to her forehead. "Too much stress," He finally added, weaving himself about to tuck her head beneath his chin. "How about we simply rest, instead of go visit with the villagers? Spend a week laying in bed... or go swimming... lounge around... then toward the end of our visit, we'll take a tour around the barony... and once it's concluded, we can make our way back to Addlewood." It was as much a suggestion as it was a question. "And, yes... we probably should." The corner of his mouth pulled upward with a hint of humor; they were already married... and he forgot they must keep up the charade just a little while longer.

Natalia was quickly running out of excuses to supply for the reasons she was feeling unwell, though she did her best to reassure him that all was well. The horrors that haunted him were well known to her, and she had no desire to give him cause for worry. He was so happy and she longed to see that happiness remain, even if it meant lying to him about her true state of being. “I must have drank too much wine at dinner,” she smiled softly up at him before he pulled her in close. Her arms lowered to a more comfortable position, wrapping around his middle, putting far less strain on her muscles that were quite fatigued. “That sounds like a dream, My Lord. There is a fresh water spring not too far from here that we could visit tomorrow afternoon. I can have lunch prepared for us to bring and we can spend the day soaking up the sun and each other.”

Kaidren stood still, wrapped in each other's embrace, for quite some time. Twisting himself, he'd slowly rock the both of them back and forth while they enjoyed the night air, before one arm unwound and hooked behind her legs, and the other around her shoulders. He'd pluck her from the ground with very little effort and begin to close the distance between them and the bed. "We can do what ever your heart desires, my Lady." He didn't bother closing the doors behind them-- the cool, evening breeze brought freshness into the room and would no doubt help with his wife's sudden issue with heat. "... No wine, though."

The softest gasp drew inward through her parted lips as her slender form was lifted off the ground. His scent of sandalwood, earth and city’s filled the inner chambers of her nostrils, reminding her of the first night they spent together. The fresh air did in fact to do her some sort of good, lifting her spirits though those were rather hard to dampen. Besides if she needed heat, all she would have to do is scootch herself closer to her husband. “Just a little bit of wine?” She protested teasingly, keeping up the charade that she had begun. 

Kaidren draped his wife across the luxurious sheets and allowed her to snuggle beneath them if she so chose, or lay atop them in order to handle the heat. Whereas he may have tried to climb over her to his previous spot, now that he knew she was unwell, he rounded the bed and sat on the edge before resting the arc of his spine into the comforts. Rolling onto his side and propping himself up on one arm, he watched every movement she made there after. "No wine." Came the authoritative tone, though his gaze dropped to her hand before he'd grip it tightly. "Perhaps it is the vintage-- maybe a different bottle and a different kind?"

Natalia pushed herself up into a sitting position with her back propped up against the thick pillow. Lithe legs pulled themselves up towards her chest as she pulled the sheets up to her waist and let her legs stretch back out. She was very aware of her husband's watchful gaze, how watched her like she was some fragile porcelain doll in a glass case, ready to shatter at the slightest touch. It would only worsen if he knew just how horrible she was really feeling, and he'd likely never let her out of bed. She simply gave him a small, warm smile and nodded. "Perhaps I can try some of Lady Ludlow's. I hear it's quite delicious and beyond compare in its quality."

Kaidren dips his head in a slow nod. "Yes, Lady Ludlow's wine is rather delicious, and comes in a variety of flavors. My family prefers her wines over all others." As she straightened her legs, he scoots closer to rest his head in her lap., arms snaking around the leg closest to him as though it were a stuffed animal. "Should we have a physician look at you while we're here? I'd hate to let you drink and find out you were pregnant. " Awaiting the audible gasp that would surely follow, once she made a peep, he'd pinch the back of her knee between index and thumb.

Natalia's fingers began to comb themselves through his dark thick hair as he nestled himself into her lap. A soft gasp did follow, but the softness contrasted greatly with the pang of guilt and near heartbreak that thrummed within her heart. "I... I'm not pregnant," she replied quietly, her head hanging in shame. It was something she desperately wanted, not only to give him an heir but to also have something that was the product of their love. "I wish I was, but my physician here confirmed it. I met with her yesterday while you were resting.”

While the news was disappointing, the weight of it didn't show up upon his features; instead, he offered his wife a faint smile. "I'm sure you will be in time-- besides, no reason to rush... just means we get to enjoy one another for a tad longer." He snuggled his cheek into her lap and wound his arms around the leg closest to him. "Under the weather, then... Climate change, all of the added stress... I'm sure it's nothing to be worried about, my love." Kaidren turned his head enough so that he could peer at her through the corner of his eye. "... maybe it's a new allergy... to food or something in the air. We'll figure it out."

Tears stung at her eyes while she continued to comb her fingers affectionately through his hair. With his face turned away from hers for the time, she allowed a single teardrop to fall over the crest of her cheek before quickly wiping it away before he could see. “I will give you children, Kaidren, I promise. I will give you a son in the image of his father.” The hope and positivity that her husband held, it bolstered her spirits in the same hope that it was something easily fixed or would wean away. “Yes, we will my love.”

(( @householt @kaideholt ))

[fibula-rasa]

A Century of Glamour Ghouls: 1990s

Nancy Downs in The Craft (1996)

The Movie

The Craft (1996) is widely thought of as a guilty pleasure for women who came of age in the 90s but in recent years its cult following has grown considerably and its reputation is being reconsidered. It’s a more complicated movie than most give it credit for despite its faults.

Sarah (Robin Tunney) moves to LA from San Francisco with her father and stepmother following a suicide attempt. As she gets the lay of the land at her new Catholic high school, a fledgling coven of witches at the school recognize her natural talent for witchcraft and set their sights on her. Sarah’s new sisters all have struggles of their own and use witchcraft as a coping mechanism and as a means of empowerment. Nancy (Fairuza Balk), the de-facto leader, is deeply depressed and poor. Rochelle (Rachel True) is the only black girl in school and her teammates’ overt racism is holding her back from pursuing her passion for diving. Bonnie (Neve Campbell) is disfigured with burn scars covering much of her body. With the addition of Sarah to their coven, their witchcraft begins to produce real results. At first, their problems seems to be solved. The boy who spread rumours about Sarah after she turned him down for sex is now hopelessly obsessed with her. Nancy’s abusive father is dead and she and her mother now have a better lifestyle living on insurance money. Rochelle’s most violent tormentor starts to go bald. The painful treatment for Bonnie’s scars is suddenly successful. It doesn’t take long for things to spiral out of control though. Intra-coven conflict and a misunderstanding of the nature of magic(k) have dangerous consequences for all four of them.

The Craft is one of the more interesting pieces of fiction to emerge from the ashes of the satanic panic of the 1980s. In the 1980s a moral panic was created around a number of later discredited stories about satan worship. While the initial panic focused mainly on child abuse and day care centers, once it settled into the cultural zeitgeist, satanism (and by extension witchcraft) became the scapegoat for all sorts of social issues. It’s a bit difficult to convey to anyone who didn’t live through it how pervasive this fear was in certain communities in the US. But honestly, if you go back and watch some episodes of the first seasons of Unsolved Mysteries, you’ll be a bit flabbergasted at how often parents and husbands tack satanism and witchcraft onto straight-forward crimes & missing-persons stories. The Craft was released in the aftermath of the panic just as it was receding. (As someone who was way into Marilyn Manson in the late 1990s, I can tell you for a fact that it didn’t die.) Quite cleverly, the film took the worst fears of gullible parents and realized them while simultaneously presenting a realistic depiction of the practice of witchcraft and Wiccan beliefs. Funnily enough, The Craft definitely encouraged a whole generation of kids to try out spells or witchy games at slumber parties across the country.

The Look

Nancy Downs is a very mid-90s Southern Californian goth. She rocks a whole mess of styles throughout the film, some of which are very inappropriate for the weather (desert goth life), all of which are very inappropriate for Catholic school attendance. So, there are a lot of styling options for a Nancy cosplay.

The Clothes

The base for many of Nancy’s outfits is her school uniform; white button up shirt and blue-and-green kilt. At school, she’s usually bare-legged and mixes up the uniform pieces with black undershirts or black mesh and a black leather jacket. More often later in the film, she goes full 90s goth witch with a long black jacket with flared sleeves and big flowy black and dark red skirts. Nancy’s ever-present accessories are rosaries worn as jewelry, a dog-collar choker, upside down cross earrings, a nose ring, and pointy lace-up ankle boots.

I went the simple route: a play on the school uniform. I don’t own anything resembling a uniform kilt because I went to Catholic school myself for 16 years and will never own a skirt like that again. I also don’t own any black mesh, but I do have a pair of fishnets that I put on as sleeves. If you want to add color to a Nancy look, I’d recommend blood red in your accessories.

The Makeup

Nancy’s makeup is harsh though the face makeup is rarely very heavily applied. Nancy’s eyebrows are sharp and thin and her eyes are smoky and smudgy, later in the film her eye makeup gets deeper and less shimmery.

It seems that is every scene, even if it’s directly contiguous with the scene prior, Nancy has reapplied her lipstick in a different shade. I love this because it subtly reinforces the notion that she exhibits compulsive behaviors and also suggests that perhaps her “five-finger discount” attitude extends beyond the magic shop to makeup counters and drug stores.

Start with a neutral base and set it lightly with powder a shade lighter than your skin tone to get a California-goth pallor I concentrated some extra light powder under the hollows of my cheekbones to make my cheeks look fuller, more like Balk’s and more like a teenager’s.

Deconstructing Nancy’s eye makeup was fun because I realized for the first time that it’s actually a pretty standard late-90s smoky eye with heavier liner. (1.) Start with a neutral gray shade as a blending base. (2.) Take a darker gray shade to build up the outer V of the eye concentrating the pigment at the crease and lashline. (3.) Take a black shadow (I went cool black with this, but you can go warm instead) and build up the deeper areas of shadow, take an angled brush and bring it along your lashline. Take what’s left on the brush and bring it under your eyes. (4.) Next take black liner and draw a thick line all around your eye with very little flaring at the outer edge. (5.) Go back in with your black shadow to set the liner and smudge the line a bit. Basically try to make it look like you didn’t wash off yesterday’s makeup and just reapplied more in the morning. (6.) For the highlighted parts of the eye, silver would be perfect. I don’t have any silver shadow, so I went in with white shadow and a pearl-colored highlighter to get the shimmer. Concentrate the silvery shade on the inner and middle part of the mobile lid and on the browbone. (7.) To finish off the eye, tightline your eyes with black liner and load up your eyelashes with black mascara.

For the brows, go in with black powder on a wet brush so it’ll be easier to correct mistakes. The head is a lot fuller than the tail, which tapers dramatically. It’s a more natural shape than the sperm brow that was starting to take over at the time.

For my Nancy look, I chose to go with a brownish lip because most Nancy cosplayers gravitate toward the bright red and black combo. The same method applies, just choose the colors you like best. Take a brown, black, or burgundy liner and fill out your bottom lip and line your upper lip to be just a touch smaller than your lower lip. Fill in the center of your lips with a nude brown or red lipstick and blend it into the liner. Don’t blend too much though because you want to keep the liner distinct.

With your liner brush at the ready, draw a small beauty mark on your right cheek an inch or two from your mouth. I already have a beauty mark here, so I just filled it in.

The 1910s | The 1920s | The 1930s | The 1940s | The 1950s | The 1960s | The 1970s | The 1980s | The 2000s

[robininthelabyrinth]

could i please request a smut fic set in your Aflame fic verse? I wanna read possessive behaviour coldwave sex >_

Fic: Lazy Day (Ao3 link)Fandom: DC’s Legends of TomorrowPairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart

Summary: Mick enjoys the privileges of ownership.

WARNING: explicit adult content, unhealthy amounts of possessiveness, PWP, characterizations probably only make sense if you’ve read Aflame first (though significantly less murder this time around)

————————————————-

Mick is sitting in the captain’s chair, his back slouched, his legs spread, small smirk on his face. He is content.

They’re traveling in the time stream today, wrapped up in their own little bubble, sliding up and down their own little strand of timeline spaghetti, nice and safe. They’re headed to the past to stop an aberration – a nasty one, too, involving zombies in the Civil War, of all things – and Mick’s little team of heroes is planning on taking out the pirate ship carrying the virus before it ever lands. They grabbed a few high powered torpedoes from their last visit to the future that ought to look real nice when they go off, blowing the ship out of the air, like fourth of July fireworks.

He never said they were nice heroes.

It pleases Jax, anyway, to think of himself as still being a hero, and Sara is a fine right hand, now that her sister is at her side, their twin smiles broad and eyes sharp. Laurel mostly prefers Starling as her base, same as ever, but she’s happy to join them when they think they might need a legal mind to help sort through the timeline and identify key pivot points. She’s a great historian, too: all that work digging through legal documents helps her work through the tomes of data Gideon has pulled from various libraries, data that helps them keep their own timeline footprint to a minimum. After they cured her, Laurel looked straight into Mick’s eyes and knew what he is, right off the bat, but he makes her sister happy and he keeps her sister safe and he lets her sister kill as much as she needs to while still keeping the faith in her heroics, and right now that’s enough for Laurel Lance. She won’t challenge him - yet.

Besides, Laurel and Amaya clicked so hard Mick thinks a piece of the universe might have actually snapped audibly in the process.

Best friends from different eras, those two; with Laurel often talking avidly about advances in feminism, race theory, economics, and Amaya responding with lessons on war and spying and her own unique perspective on the issues. It’s probably not wise to give Laurel such a firm ally, not when Mick knows that one day he’ll probably have to put her into the ground when she finally objects to his domination of the Waverider and the timeline, but that’s not his problem right now.

Those are thoughts for another day.

Today – today is a lazy day.

Mick stretches, popping the air out of a stiff joint or two, and gets up out of his chair in a casual way that fools absolutely nobody, but certainly not the crew hovering on the bridge around him: Sara, playing Tetris on the navigation station and trying to keep from sniggering; Jax, sitting beside her, feet up in the air like a king and grinning as he pages through another repair manual; Ray, texting with his hawkish girlfriend and boyfriend through time and space like a modern day Doctor Who. Ginny, of course, humming along, mistress of the ship.

His ship. His, with no other man (or AI) left alive to make a claim upon it, and repaired three dozen times over with new improvements pulled from the creative minds of his fanatically loyal crew.

Stein’s currently spending a little quality time in the brig as a little lesson on male privilege, per Laurel’s request, but he, like the rest of the crew, has learned to accept his punishment with grace and to make reparations after, then put it aside – Snart’s idea of putting a whiteboard in there so the professor could work while he contemplated his wrongs was a good one.

Speaking of Snart…

“I’m gonna take a break,” Mick announces.

“Don’t break anything,” Sara quips, smirking.

Mick smirks and heads back to his quarters, which were once Snart’s quarters.

Snart’s sprawled out belly-down on the bed, eyes shut in satisfied repose, bare as the day he was born but for the collar that lives on his wrist. Just the way Mick likes him.

Snart still hates being naked, especially over the covers on a ship where the door can be opened from the outside, but Mick’s slowly working the dislike out of him. Mick likes to see what’s his.

He likes to see what’s his sprawled out, sated and lazy, forced to take a day to relax, under strict orders not to leave his room and to wait, patient, until Mick came back to play once more.

He goes and sits by Snart, running his thumb up Snart’s back.

Snart’s awake, he can tell, but he lies still and lets Mick do as he likes.

Such a good boy.

“Turn over,” Mick says, and Snart does.

That’s better.

Mick spends a good couple of minutes just looking at him. Snart’s looking much better now: he’s not so tired-looking, his muscles are strong with good old-fashioned use, his skin tone is healthy now that Mick has all the resources of time and space to use to make him eat properly. He needs it, too.

Snart’s still broken inside, all chopped up in pieces from where Rip hurt him, but that’s okay.

Mick’s working on that.

Mick takes Snart’s hand, the new one, the one with the collar wrapped around it – Mick removes the collar only when he’s cleaning it, keeps Snart on his knees beside him the whole time he’s doing it, makes Snart watch him as he does it, makes Snart know that he, like the collar, was something that Mick was going to keep forever – and he thumbs at the meat of Snart’s palm, working the flesh between his fingers, watching Snart’s muscles tense at the pressure before releasing the tension they’ve stored up.

“This is mine,” he says, and watches Snart shiver a little, watching him through heavily lidded eyes.

He works Snart’s hand over, top to bottom, and puts it back down on the bed, sliding his fingers down to Snart’s wrist, the bony protrusion, the collar. He draws his palm across the collar, slow and sure, possessive to the last, and then upwards, to Snart’s forearm, the sensitive part right below the elbow, to the scars that curl over his upper arm.

The sensitive inside of his arm. The meat of his shoulder.

“This is mine,” he says again.

Snart watches him.

Mick skates his fingers along Snart’s collarbone, feeling every time it was broken by other hands than his. He draws them down Snart’s chest, through the sparse hair there. Flicks the nipple, drawing out a short bark of involuntary laughter from Snart.

“This is mine,” he says, and Snart nods, just the barest hint of movement.

He runs his palm over Snart’s belly, pleased when the tender, vulnerable flesh shudders beneath him, likes the hint of softness that he’s managed to coax out of Len’s spare frame. Traces the ribs, watching Snart struggle not to move when confronted by his own ticklishness.

Snart knows better than to move right now.

“This is mine,” he says, and means more than the body beneath him – means Snart’s obedience, Snart’s loyalty, Snart’s goodness, because that’s his, too. He’d never have been satisfied with just Snart’s body, beautiful as it is.

Mick moves his fingers down the curve of Snart’s hip, sliding tantalizingly close to where Snart’s grown hard and wanting, and moves right by, going down Snart’s thigh, the sensitive inner portions that make Snart have to stifle a groan.

The soft space behind the knee.

The scarring on the shin.

The curve of the ankle.

The base of the toes, the spur of the heel.

All this is Mick’s, too.

Mick’s to break, if he wants, and Mick’s to care for, too.

Snart’s eyes haven’t shifted from Mick, not even a flicker, not even when Mick draws his fingers back up, not when Mick pushes his thighs open and thumbs his well-used hole, still a little wet from where Mick fucked him hard this morning, when he put a still-sleepy Snart on his knees against the wall and pounded into him without pity or remorse, a little pick-me-up before he got up to go get himself some coffee. Before he left Snart behind with orders not to even think of getting dressed or of getting out of bed today.

Snart’s still sore from him, and he still wants more.

He’ll always want more, more of Mick, wants everything Mick can give him and more, no matter what it is.

Mick smiles.

He shifts position on the bed and repeats the process on the other leg, claiming every scar over again with his fingers, working the muscles loose, a long press on the base of his foot making Snart’s eyes flutter in pleasure even as he keeps his hips still.

He works his way up to Snart’s other arm, until he’s touched every inch of Snart below the neck except for where Snart wants to be touched most.

Mick draws his fingers to Snart’s neck and up along the lines of muscle there, feels Snart swallow under his thumbs, his adam’s apple moving as he does. Draws his fingers higher, to Snart’s lips, where he lets them rest for a second, tracing the dry, cracked surface. Moves them up. Traces his cheeks, running them up the bone. His temples. The curves under his eyes.

Presses his thumbs lightly on Snart’s eyelids, which slide closed under the mild pressure.

He could take Snart’s eyes if he wanted. Snart would let him.

Why would he want to, when they look at him so adoringly?

He caresses Snart’s temples, working out the pressure there in slow, steady circles; presses his thumb to the wrinkle between Snart’s eyebrows until the tension is soothed there, too. Scratches his nails lightly across Snart’s scalp.

Snart’s so loose right now, his body so relaxed, so pliant, he might almost be asleep.

He’s not.

Mick brings his hands down and wraps them around Snart’s throat, drawing them infinitesimally tighter and tighter until the skin flushes red beneath his grip. “This is mine,” he says.

Snart’s life.

Snart’s death.

Everything about the man, from head to toe, from outside in. His body, his mind, his soul.

All Mick’s.

“Yes,” Snart says, his first words aloud. “Yes. Yours.”

Mick smiles, and releases Snart’s neck.

“Touch yourself,” he orders. “Tell me what you want.”

Snart moves, free at last, and wraps a hand around himself, pumping with long, sure strokes of a man who knows he’s close, who’s been dancing on the edge and finally sees hope of release. “I want you,” he says.

Mick smiles.

“I want you,” Snart continues, his eyes still half-closed, growing distant as he dreams aloud for Mick’s pleasure. His brilliant mind, bent beneath Mick’s control without fear, without coercion. Given freely, out of love. Mick’s. “I wanna see you sitting in that captain’s chair of yours, looking around with that smug look you always get, like you know it’s all yours for the taking. And it is, everything, the whole ship, the whole timeline, all yours. I wanna have you, right there; wanna get down on my knees for you in front of all of ‘em, every last one of them, take you in my mouth. Flip my parka hood up, get it over my head, so they don’t see a damn thing, but they know what I’m doing anyway. Want them to see you get hot for me.”

“I’m always hot for you,” Mick says, and this, too, is true.

Snart’s hand moves faster. “I want you to come in my mouth,” he says. “Gonna swallow you down, just like you like it, and then I’m gonna do you up and leave you there, nice and loose and happy, all ‘cause of me, and they’re all gonna see me lick my lips, and they’re not gonna be able to look away.”

“Because you’re beautiful,” Mick says, meaning that Snart would be beautiful because he is Mick’s, and he knows that that’s what Snart means, too.

“I’m gonna look her right in the eye and smirk,” Snart says, and his breathing is hard, his hips twitching up in time with the movement of his hand. “She’ll know it, most of all, out of all of ‘em.”

He means Amaya, whose admiration of Mick has perhaps been less well-hidden than it ought to be.

Snart’s jealous.

That’s Mick’s, too, that fury, that crawling feeling that goes down Snart’s throat and stays there, boiling Snart’s blood. That possessive urge that starts low in the belly and radiates outwards, fills you up, until there’s nothing inside of you but feral, crazy want, the desire to have, to possess, to keep.

Mick gave that to Snart, gave him that special part of him, that precious piece of pure madness, and he loves it; loves seeing it shine in Snart’s eyes, loves how Snart wants in some confused way to act, wants to grind his ostensible rival into the dust, wants to be driven by the same fury that drives Mick to harm those who have harmed Snart. He’s too good for it, of course, but he wants it, loves that madness the same way he loves everything that Mick has ever given him. Just the way he learned to.

Snart has nothing to worry about, of course.

But Mick still likes it.

“Gonna show her,” Snart says, and he’s just on the edge. “Gonna show her you’re mine –”

“I am,” Mick says, a moment’s indulgence for his first and favorite, and Snart’s coming, his whole body drawing tight like a bow for a long moment before collapsing down onto the sheets, every inch of him loose.

Every inch of him Mick’s.

Just the way Mick likes him.

Mick smiles.

He leans down, idly presses his lips to Snart’s temple. “Sleep,” he says, and Snart murmurs in agreement, already halfway there, his sleepless efforts planning their next few steps over the last few days coming for their due at last, and then - once Snart’s down and under and safe in his dreams - Mick gets up and he goes back out to his ship.

It’s nice, sometimes, to have a lazy day.

Mick sits in the captain’s chair.

And smiles, content.

[erisabeisuuwritings]

Drone 1-shot Original

Copyright E.E.D-L Online Author Pename Erisabeisuu

Original work: And yes I took and used already introduced mainstream Sci-fi themes but it’s still original. Rated G for the most part maybe mild cursing. 

Hadrian Morgan opened his eyes slowly blinking in the harsh lights of the lab. Slowly he began to flex his fingers moving on to his toes, followed by his wrists, elbows, ankles, knees, and shoulders. Carefully placing weight on his forearms he slowly began to sit up, flexing his back slowly.

“Dr. Morgan all systems are showing a green-light. You have the authorization to begin full-scale testing.” The voice sounded out of a loudspeaker nearby causing Hadrian to flinch as to boomed into his sensitive ears.

“Confirmed, hearing is at one zero zero percent.” He replied pausing for a moment before continuing, “Vocal patterns are stable and within expected parameters. Please confirm sound range Dr. Reed.”

“Sound range is within human perception with a lilt to the higher scale range.”

“Vision is at one zero zero percent, zoom and wave range are full-scale and controllable.”

“Confirmed.”

Slowly lifting his legs over the side of the gurney Hadrian turned to sit on the edge. After flicking his eyes over to the observational window he flared his nose before sneezing quickly and making a face, “Smell is at one zero zero percent, and I must admit that I had thought antiseptic smelled bad enough before.”

A laugh came through the speaker before he was answered, “Confirmed, and I'll keep that in mind.”

Slowly putting weight on his legs Hadrian stood and began to test his balance. Once he was done with that he took slow steps around the quarantine room. “Motor functions all within expected range. Motor control is fully functional.”

“Confirmed, You have been authorized for entry into the obstacle course.” Dr. Reed announced just as a buzzer sounded along with the hiss of depressurization from a door opposite from the observational station. With one last look around the barren lab room Hadrian turned and exited through the open door.

           The obstacle course was fairly simple just a track with a few vaults and a couple of rock walls. The test ran smoothly and after a few more basic functions were assessed Hadrian was released into the main complex. As soon as he entered the meeting room all the preexisting chatter was instantly silenced causing Hadrian to smile which drew a few light gasps, “Gentlemen and Lady, I think you can all see the experiment was a complete success. The Silverhand project is now fully operational, and now all we need is for the government to approve the expenses for further production and integration.”

           The meeting room remained silent for several more seconds before someone in the group let out a cheer that flowed to the rest until everyone in the room save Hadrian himself were cheering and dancing around in their excitement.  The Silverhand project was working! It was fully operational! They had done it!

***********

           Hadrian stood in front of the mirror with hands spayed on either side of the sink and took in his own reflection. Emerald green eyes stared back at him as he took in all of his features, raven black hair  pulled into a tie at the base of his neck, a smooth jawline, arched eyebrows, and a fairly straight nose all in all he didn't look that bad, but his height was one thing he would always grumble about after all what sort of respectable man was only 5'8? Sighing he shook his head and left the bathroom and came to a stop in front of the double doors leading into the grand ball room that was being used to host what would later be called the party of the year. He straightened up his suit if he was going to do this then he had better be  as sharp and businesslike as possible.

            It had been three weeks since the experiment and it was now time for Dr. Lewis Reed, and himself to give the speech that would either make or break the project, and naturally Hadrian was a nervous wreck. Oh, you couldn't tell from looking at him, but under his calm and confident expression his mind was more active than an agitated bee hive. Lewis looked over at him before chuckling and reaching over to clap his hand against Hadrian's shoulder, “Cheer up mate, tis not the end of the world.”

           Hadrian just looked at him with a raised eyebrow he could tell that Lewis was just as nervous as he was by the way his British accent thickened as well as his word choices, but before he could reply they heard their que and quickly entered the room and made their way to the stage set up just for tonight's demonstration.

           “And here we have our men of the hour! May I introduce Doctors Hadrian Morgan and Lewis Reed!” Announced the Secretary of Defense Adrian Conrad,  “These two men are solely responsible for the Silverhand Project, which will be shown to all of you today. Now for those of you who don't know the Silverhand Project was introduced as an alternative to modern troops, or rather a method for the creation of super-soldiers.”

           Seeing some of the crowd shift uncomfortably at the notion Hadrian spoke up as Lewis powered up all the required systems that made up the Silverhand System or as many of the techs had nicknamed it the Nuada Drone, “The Silverhand System while expected to replace the mobilized troops, will not be replacing the soldiers who will be doing the fighting. Now this may be confusing now but I'm sure you'll all be pleased with the results and understand them in a moment. While I'm speaking Dr. Reed behind me is powering all the components initially needed for the Silverhand System. The system itself has a bio-electrical field to power itself, much like the human body. The system will be piloted by me for this demonstration, and I hope that you all enjoy both this demonstration and the banquet afterwords.”

           He turned and getting a nod from Lewis opened the capsule chamber that was not unlike a gelled over coffin while turning all the fields to the required settings even as Lewis spoke up to give a running commentary, “What Dr. Morgan is doing now is tuning all the settings for the capsule and what we have now nicknamed the Nuada Drone.”

           Seeing the glances and confused expressions on the guests faces Lewis gave a small smirk before continuing, “The system in now fully powered and is only awaiting the pilot entry into the capsule to begin the full-scale linkup.”

           With a last nod Hadrian removed his shoes before hopping up onto the bed of the open capsule before he quickly swung around until he was laying flat on his back, “Now that Dr. Morgan is ready I would like to draw your attention to the covered gurney on the other side of the platform.”  

           Seeing that the guests had done so Lewis closed the lid on Hadrian's capsule and quickly strode over to the gurney. Once he was sure that all the curious faces where focused on him and the gurney he spoke again, “May I now present with great pride the Silverhand System!”

           Pulling off the sheet quickly and revealing the foreign body on the bed which quickly sat up causing the entire audience to gasp in shock, awe, or for some fear. The military representatives went ramrod straight and had their hands hovering over their various hidden weapons. The thing now sitting on the gurney was without a doubt not human. It's skin was the color of ink, so dark that it was almost hard to make out it's features except around it's mouth, palms, and soles of it's feet which where silver in color. It's face seemed human but also seemed to have a slightly elongated jaw and cheek bones that gave the effect of having a snout. It's ears where elongated and came to a point like the elves of legend, but for the fact that they seemed to swivel around as the audience made even the slightest noise.  It's eyes were a solid silver-tinted violet that seemed to glow, and when the thing smiled it showed off needle sharp teeth with even larger canines. When it stood they could see that it was at least 7' or more, but the thing that caused yet another wave of gasps throughout the assembled leaders was when the thing started to talk.

Standing up while in control of the drone Hadrian began the speech that would decide everything, “Ladies and Gentleman.”, here he paused for the gasps, “As I have previously stated I am piloting this drone from the capsule on the opposite side of the stage. This drone is a bio-engineered bio-machine, and has been specifically built for combat and reconnaissance. Through genetic manipulation, and a variety of pre-programmed nanoscopic machines we were able to engineer this construct. And now we will begin the regular pre-op program to confirm full range of functions.”

Here Dr. Reed stepped forward to begin a standard physical for the crowd while starting up the same list as the first time the drone was activated, “Vocal patterns within human perception Dr. Morgan. Please confirm all functions.”

“Hearing currently at five zero percent, increasing function range now.”

“Confirmed, activating music program.”

“Hearing now at one zero zero percent, confirmed the speakers currently located in the great hall are playing 'Fur Elise'.”

They both saw the eyebrows of everyone in the crowd go into their hairlines as they took in his statement seeing as the great hall was currently on the other side of the rather large mansion. Lewis smiled at him before speaking, “Confirmed, now switching off music system.”

“Vision at one zero zero percent, full scale range confirmed.”

“Activating laser system now.”

“Confirming activation, lasers are performing programmed configuration number three.”

“Correct, for the benefit of the audience I will explain that Dr. Morgan has just demonstrated that the drone has full spectrum vision by describing a small laser show displayed in the upper ultra-violet wavelength of light usually invisible to the human eye. Another function is the ability to zoom in on a certain area from up to one kilometer away.”

This brought out grins and impressed looks from the military sections as they started adapting to the idea that it was the scientist in charge of the...drone. It seemed that they where fast getting used to the idea and where very happy with what they were hearing.

“Now releasing pheromones.” Lewis said as he typed on his laptop.

“Raising Smell to one zero zero percent.”, Hadrian announced before sneezing violently causing the crowd to laugh as he scowled at Lewis before literally growling at the man as he continued, “I thought I said not to add Sage to the pheromones.”

Lewis just grinned up at him and said quite flippantly, “Yes you did, but I did it because I know you hate Sage.”

The crowd laughed at the byplay and Hadrian only hoped that it didn't work against them in the long run. Shaking his head in exasperation before continuing with the test he drew in a deep breath through his nose mostly for the crowd's benefit, “Lavender, Sakura Blossom, Juniper, Orange Peel, Vinegar, Beeswax, Dog, Cat, Peanut, Chocolate, Ammonia, Lemon, Pineapple, and...Sage.”

Lewis grinned broadly back at the drone as Hadrian paused slightly before listing the one thing he hated more than antiseptic when it came to the scent department. Shaking his head slightly he turned back to the crowd who mostly all had curious expressions on their faces, “Correct, again for the benefit of the audience I will explain. At the back of the room many of you might have noticed a small black bar that was resting on a table beside a data pad. That bar contains several small samples of synthetic oils that release a set of scents or pheromones in a random order that was transferred to my laptop here to correctly test the drone's sense of smell. Dr. Morgan has just listed the order that the scents where released.”

Again the commentary seemed to be having a positive effect on the military members present as they turned to spot the machine described to them. Both of the doctors on stage saw the glances being exchanged amongst not only them, but the President and the Secretary of Defense as well.

“All functions confirmed, and we will now give a presentation of a previous physical ability test.” Dr. Lewis stated once he was sure he had everyone's attention again. With his comment a projection screen was lowered down from it's slot in the ceiling, and a video showing Hadrian running a military grade obstacle course was shown. Though the ease and speed that the drone was able to finish it with made it seem as if it where a child's rendition of the same course. The presentation was over after a few more words of promotion and explanations of the workings of the system. All in all both of the doctors where looking forward to the official reactions to the project.

           Hadrian easily placed himself on the gurney moving the drone back to it's original position before reaching up towards the small silver circle behind the drones left ear while explaining the disconnection procedure, “The disconnection process is very simple all that the pilot has to do is make sure the drone is either hidden and/or in a resting position, and then simple press the sensor behind the left ear, like so.”

Just after that was said the audience watched the drone go limp, and with a small hiss of air from the hydraulics the capsule opened with a few wisps of mist from the water and oxygen circulation systems escaping as Hadrian sat up back in his own body slowly. As he was removing himself from the capsule and replacing his shoes Lewis stepped forward to give the closing words to their presentation, “Thank you all for staying with us through the entire presentation of the Silverhand System. We hope that you can find the system to be of some use, and now we can all retire to the prepared banquet in the great hall.”

           Even as the two doctors headed out a side door they noticed all the military leaders in the room moving toward the Secretary and the President hopefully to ask for the production and use of the system rather than it's dismantlement.  Entering the great hall for the banquet the two doctors nervously waiting for the rest of the guests as they stood on either side of the double doors. It didn't take long for the guests to start trickling in as they took their places, and finally the president entered with his entourage only for the man himself to pause beside Hadrian, “You have your funding Doctor.”

           Hadrian was elated he had finally done it; the project was completed and now soldiers would no longer die in combat leaving behind their families like his father and his brother. With the drones so many lives would be saved, he only hoped that it would be enough. So with a smile Hadrian Morgan gave Lewis a subtle thumbs up, and spent the rest of the time answering questions from all the curious attendees.

           It would be just over fifteen years later that Hadrian Morgan would look back and remember one particular saying, 'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions', and think to himself that that particular road must have been paved with a miles worth of his own. After all he never knew that day he had almost single-handedly started World War Three.