#give me saying his real name for the first time and watching euphoria wash over him

[unusual-raccoon]

Lord help me, I’m back on my Daemon II Blackfyre/Ser Duncan the Tall bullshit

[cow-smells]

Owe you one: Demetri x Reader

Summary: Y/n is on a mission to get that good geek D OR, Demetri tutors the reader. Reader sees it fit to pay him back.

A/n: Definitely not my finest piece of work but I had to let it out of me (: its my first smut. can you tell?

also please don’t repost this anywhere  :)

Words: 1678

Warnings: smut

Standing in the crowded hallway, Y/n scanned the crowd of students until her eyes set on her target.

    “Demetri!!!!”

Demetri was visibly startled, not used to having his name screamed out like that, surely not by a girl – most definitely not by Y/n. Y/n was one of the most popular girls in school and having her call for him, so publicly no less, made Demetri's cheeks flush.

They had been hanging out almost daily lately after a teacher suggested Y/n ask Demetri to tutor her in algebra, a subject she hated until the memory of it started tying itself with the lanky black haired boy.

At first they would study in the library but after quickly becoming friendly, the study sessions moved to either ones house. As time progressed Y/n began finding that she would find excuses in the guise of studying to seek Demetri out during the day, just to talk to him about anything at all.

Although she did use their study sessions to... well, study, Y/n couldn't help when her mind would wander elsewhere occasionally. When they'd both be perched on her bed, house empty but them, nothing but books between them... Y/n would lay a hand on Demetri's thigh, or sit a bit closer than necessary, waiting for Demetri to pick up on the hint; he never did.

    It was time to take matters in to hands.

    “Hey!” Y/n called as she caught up to Demetri. “Look!”

Y/n held up her latest algebra test, showing off a big B+ circled in red.

Demetri's eyes widened in surprise, his smile genuine. “That's amazing! I told you you'll do great!” he lay a shy hand on Y/n's bicep. It wasn't enough. Unashamed, Y/n held up her arms for a hug he couldn't deny.

Standing on her tippy toes, she held Demetri tight to her for a moment. “Seriously, thank you.”

She could swear it wasn't her imagination when Demetri was reluctant to let go.

Y/n slid her arms from around his neck to hold his shoulders. “Are you free today?”

Demetri thought; he was supposed to help Sam and Mr LaRusso fix up some stuff at the dojo but seeing as it was Y/n asking, looking up at him with her big e/c eyes and perfectly painted lips, he figured he could clear his schedule. “Uh, yeah.”

“Great. Could I come over? I wanna go over my mistakes, if that's okay with you.”

Of course it was okay. Demetri was crushingly disappointed once Y/n took the test and stopped meeting him every day, any excuse to spend time with her was more than welcome.

    Even if he was still too cowardly to make a move.

    “Yeah, sure. My parents should be working late today so, come by any time.”

“Okay,” Y/n bit her lip and brushed her hands off his shoulders. “I'll see you in a bit.”

Hours later, Y/n found herself in Demetri's painfully on-brand room. Closing the door after her she clicked the door to lock, even though it was just them in the meantime. She unhooked her bag from her shoulder, leaving it by the door.

Looking from the bag to her, Demetri asked, “What did you get wrong, anyway?”

“Oh, about that,” Y/n replied bashfully, slowly making her way closer to the boy, her hips swaying purposefully with each step. “I don't really care about the mistakes. I mean, sure, it's important and all, but...” Y/n reached Demetri, standing toe to toe with him. She reached her hand to grab the hem of his t-shirt, watching her fingers as she played with it – Demetri watching her. “I just wanted to get you alone. I never actually got to repay the favour, or say thank you.”

Suddenly looking up, Demetri found the girls face achingly close to his. If only he would lean down and close the gap... his mouth went dry.

“So,” Y/n eyes met Demetri's. Getting on to her toes, hands propping herself up on his abdomen, Demetri felt her breath on his lips as she next spoke. “Thank you.” With that, she closed the gap.

    Demetri felt fireworks go off within him. The one girl he had been pining over for so long was finally his. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her closer.

Y/n let her hands climb around his neck, one holding on to his hair as she kissed him deeper. Demetri briefly wondered if this might really just be her way of saying thank you, as unconventional as it may be – but once he felt Y/n's soft tongue searching for his, he decided to take what she was willing to give.

Demetri bent down in attempt to somehow be even closer, relieving Y/n from her position on her tip toes. He didn't even notice than his dominance on her pushed her back a couple of steps until her knees hit the bed, toppling her over with him above her.

    This was a very new situation for Demetri.

He had only just experienced his first kiss and here he was already, holding himself over the girl of his dreams. Looking down at Y/n's perfect smile and rosy cheeks (notably avoiding creating eye contact with her cleavage), every cell in Demetri's body urged him to surge forward, to kiss, to touch – so he rightened himself back up, knees still caging hers between his.

    “I'm sorry,” he apologized, despite it being nearly the last thing he wanted to do – the real last thing he wanted to do being pressure Y/n in to something.

He certainly didn't expect it when Y/n took back the reins and nudged Demetri with her knee to a sitting position on the bed, hooking the same knee around him until she was straddling him.

Demetri looked at Y/n from where she sat comfortably on his lap up to her eyes, his lips parted with questions he couldn't word; his own eyes hungry.

“Don't be.” Y/n leaned forward – Demetri leaned in instinctively in hopes to meet her lips, only to be left hanging when Y/n swayed her attentions to the skin under his ear, kissing and biting her way down the curve of his neck. Demetri closed his eyes, his attention completely devoted to the feeling of her lips on his skin, a feeling he had fantasized over for so long.

Fingers threaded between the bed sheets, Demetri couldn't contain his satisfied groan when she bit at just the right spot – and then again when she scooted her hips closer to his, forcing him to notice what she had.

Sudden panic rushing through him, Demetri lay his hands on Y/n thighs as though to push her back – she chose to stay put. “Shit, I'm sorry.” Demetri turned an unbelievable shade of red, causing the girl to laugh. If it were possible, he might have turned even brighter. He searched her eyes for disapproval, but found no such thing.

Looking down at the provocation that bothered Demetri so, Y/n met his eyes again. “Don't worry about it.” she captured Demetri's lips one more time, rocking her hips before they parted. Demetri gasped. “Besides,” she returned to her assault on his neck where red bruises were already forming. Her hands found his belt, undoing it. “I still owe you one.”

    It was with great effort that Demetri managed to ask “Y/n, what are you -” before her fingers were wrapped around him, rendering him silent – with the exception of a breath taken gasp.

Demetri could feel Y/n's lips contort to a smile against his skin as she began working him, his head tilted back in euphoria.

He bit his lip in attempt to drown out a moan without success. One arm came to wrap around the girl, holding her tightly in place. Demetri was pulled out of his content state when she slipped out of his grasp.

Y/n sat on the floor between his knees. Demetri's heart dropped, afraid he might have indulged himself too much, scared her away or maybe had done something wrong. “Y/n, what-”

Relief washed over the boy once her hand was once again wrapped around him, this time accompanied by her tongue, licking base to tip.

Demetri could feel every nerve in his body set on fire, never having felt anything remotely like this before.

It took every good ounce in him to say what he said next.

    “Stop.”

Clearly caught unprepared, Y/n let go of her touch on him (Demetri had to hold in his objection). Her brows furrowed – she was worried. “What's wrong?”

It felt ridiculous, talking like this in such an exposed state when all he wanted to do was go on, but it needed to be done. “Y/n, you know you don't actually have to do this, right?”

Noticing the drop in his voice, Y/n smiled. “I know.”

    “Like, seriously. You don't owe me anything.”

“I know,” Y/n smiled mischievously. “It's just an excuse to do this.”

There was no holding back the moan the escaped Demetri's lips when she next took him in her mouth.

Demetri wasn't sure what to do with himself. He had felt so good he wasn't sure how to contain it all; his hands were gripping the sheets, his head went from tilted back in extasy to forward, watching Y/n.

Releasing one hand of its grasp, Demetri brushed back some of Y/n's hair, creating eye contact.

    “I need to know this isn't just a thank-you.”

Y/n stopped, righting herself. “It isn't. Think of this as an... I'm in love with you.”

“I'm in love with you too.” Demetri replied eagerly, his heart pounding. He groaned as Y/n returned to her work on him. “Have been, since, like... fourth grade.”

Soon enough, Demetri's moans and groans grew in volume and frequency, finally finding his release.

Y/n climbed back on to Demetri's lap, kissing him again. Demetri smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “I think I owe you one now.”

[binniesthighs]

➵ chan, son of dionysus ➵

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x bang chan

Genre: fluff n’ smut 

Tags: demigod au, inspired by PJO, sonofdionysus!chan, softdom!chan, lil bit of magic and enchantment, mentions of wine, outdoor sex, unprotected sex (stay safe lovelies!), creampie, praising, usage of pet names, lil bit of teasing, oral (r receiving), light bondage (ribbons), all kinds of sensory stuff

Word count: 1.7k 

demigod!skz mini-masterlist coming soon

{swear on the river styx?} 

Madness. This was where your love and disdain for Chan began and ended. He had caught you in his spell, and now, there was no going back. He was always good at getting what he wanted. 

You were his all the way from the grass tickling your fingers on the edge of the picnic blanket to your bare toes kissed with the warmth of the summer sun. 

Being alone with Chan was like being in a haze, a purple haze, more specifically--one that felt like an illusion, like he had you locked up in some kind of mirage. All that you could see and feel was him: his fingers slipped down the sides of your body, singing spells with his kisses into your collarbones and fluttering on your lips. 

Chan was soothing like waves upon an ocean shore in the way that he would roll his body weight over you, pressing himself into you as if he was trying to consume you and make you one being. You wouldn’t have minded. 

Madness was in his deep violet eyes that would make you feel dizzied. In the light of the afternoon, they sparkled and dripped in vice like the wine that he would bring to your lips. It was his elixir, somehow it would taste different every time. Chan would suck the bitterness of the grapes off your skin, but he always tasted sweeter. 

Other times, he would lay simply with you, hidden in the grape leaves, tracing little designs into your arm with his fingertip. Chan recited poems for you, and monologues from plays in languages that you couldn’t understand, but they sounded beautiful coming from his mouth. 

Your madness for him grew when he would weave little sprigs of lilac into your hair, humming a little tune for you until you would feel your eyes grow heavy with the allure of sleep; mauve under your eyelids which he too would kiss. 

“Forever you’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours.” 

Songbirds tittered in that vast vineyard, dotting the cloudless cerulean sky which would turn into a blur on those afternoons. His touch was softer than the breeze, and tickled at you too. 

“You’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you?” 

Chan tucks up the corners of your shirt then greedily works at the buttons and holes that let in the summer heat. He bites into your neck lightly, and the scent of lilac fastens to his naturally earthy scent: it’s almost like the smell of an electric atmosphere following the downpouring of rain. 

He tucks his thigh between the pooling heat of your legs and bows over you like the willows nearest to the edge of forest guarding his father��s vineyard. He sweeps you into his arms, tangling his limbs and yours.

“There’s nothing more beautiful than you.” 

He sweeps up your face in his hands, thumbing over your cheeks and giving you every bit of this sweetness: like cherries, like honey and nectarines. Chan’s kisses are like some kind of enchantment and the way that his tongue carefully passes yours is almost lyrical. 

Chan weaves vines down your body of kisses, never breaking those violet eyes with you. The picnic blanket crinkles a little as he helps you shimmy out of your bottoms. He hovers his mouth over your dripping arousal. He then uses his hands to spread your legs farther, but he doesn’t need to do too much. His golden hair is like the soft threads of barely in your fingertips, and he hums into your twitching excitement. Your hips buckle into his praise, 

“That’s it angel.” 

Using both his hand and his mouth, Chan wets you further with his tongue. He spreads out his tongue flat to tease at you slowly, and with each return of his muscle, he brings you closer and closer to your brink. By now, your tossing body has strewn the blanket enough that the grass has become your pillow, and it tickles at the tips of your ears. 

You’re drunk on him when he finally lets you feel him wholly, and he rubs harder, faster. Your body quivers at the way that his pink tongue looks pleasuring you like this, it’s just about enough to make you release into his mouth, just of him. 

Cicadas hiss, and your incessant whimpers become one in the same with them. 

Golden trellises string his determined and hooded eyes when he steals away all sensation from you to nibble gently at your inner thighs. 

“Not yet my love, I’ll make you mine soon enough.” 

Your gasping body is an utter mess under him, and you rock your hips into his body for some kind of feeling. Under his silken shirt, the breeze whips into the contours of his muscles, and you claw into his body, tracing over every one of the curves you can find. 

“Please...” 

It’s likely through pure insanity that your body keens for him, and thirsts to be evermore under his touch and attention. 

“Angel, I can give you everything that you want and more...just be patient.” 

To his side, he detangles the satin gold ribbon from the bundle of wildflowers that he had brought for you. 

Your neglected sex pivots up towards his body when he prowls over to your wrists to tie together both of your hands with the ribbon. He doesn’t tie it tight, merely trusting it for decoration, and you don’t dare to break free. 

Chan frees himself from his own bottoms, choosing to linger over your bare body: a mixture of body heat and anticipation. His hardened member throbs on your stomach and you whine out carelessly just to feel him inside. 

“No-no more, want you--want you so, so bad.” 

‘What is it that you want my love?” He aligns himself with your entrance. “Say it.” 

“I-I want you, and no one else. Can you please...deep...I-I can take it.” 

Chan devours the way that your wrists flick in that golden ribbon that shines under the sun’s rays. You’re completely vulnerable to him, but you’ve never felt safer. There was something about his presence that was massively calming--like him simply existing there with you in that moment was all you would ever need. 

His lips are connected to yours once more as he coaxes his dick in slowly. Just the simple action fills you with euphoria, and you’ve lost all sense of composure. His girth swells inside you, washing you over with a complete sense of intimacy with him that you know is irreplaceable. He bottoms out within you with a low groan, eyebrows helplessly twisted as he feels your walls tighten. 

He begins his thrusts and each return is met with both of your shaking breaths in the air. Your hands trace over the shoulder blades flexing on his back, then you dig your nails into the gorgeous skin. Chan is quick in digging his hips as deeply as he can into you to hear you let out more and more rushed moans past your lips. 

“Get up this way baby.” 

Chan pulls your hips up, then flips you over on your knees to bring himself back to you. He guides your face into the fabric of the blanket, hands then quickly moving to grasp at your waist. The gold ribbon juxtaposes the green grass in your hands like some celestial combination. 

From this angle, he hikes up your waist into the air and near to his member, now thrilled and pink as well. He enters you at last, and you’ve almost forgotten how full you had felt before--now, it’s even greater. 

“S-so pretty for me my darling. You-you look so pretty like this.” Chan grunts the words out best he can. In your madness for him, he’s driven himself over the edge as well. 

Skin on skin pats lightly and he digs into your ass with one hand, and returns back to your sex with the other, permitting it those last fleeting touches. 

He barely had to touch you more before your body shook violently with your orgasm that left you light headed, much like the others. While the heat sears through all of your limbs, Chan chuckles at his feat, grinding down his hips even harder while he chases your overstimulation. 

You’re delirious by the time that he manages one more orgasm out of you; the second one makes you much louder and less demure than you had been before. 

“Want-want you inside, c-cum for me?” 

“I just wanted you to have some of the fun first.” 

“I said that I wanted you. I said I can take it.” 

The purple flames in Chan’s eyes spark, and he’s renewed his pace, pumping in and out you slowly, up until he’s spewing more little praises into the summer air. 

“Aren’t you so tight for me? Gods, you feel so--” He trails tiny grunts in the back of his throat, “--so good for me.” 

“Chan--mm--just a little more...” 

Chan melts into a pool of his orgasm and your pleading voice, grunting out unintelligible moans of sheer happiness and relief. Together, you linger there, staying the exact same, and relishing in the beauty of feeling one with another person--the one person that you wanted and loved most in the world. 

After he removes himself from your entrance still in aftershocks, Chan watches his white seed glisten and drip out just slightly. 

You swipe away those golden strands to kiss his sweating forehead. The summer wind blows coolly on your perspiration and you take his face into your hands to laugh slightly together. It’s those violet eyes that take care of you, and love you, and glisten like the way the cottonwoods mimic the ocean’s waves. 

You were mad. Completely and utterly mad for him, an infatuation so deep, it was the kind that some would say would last for ages.

Chan held your hand as you both came down from your orgasms, and looked up at the clouds with you from that little corner riddled with vines of weeds and juicy purple grapes. 

The purple haze consumes you, and for a moment, you can’t even distinguish the real from the mirage. 

“Chan?”

“Mmhm?” 

“I don’t ever want to leave here with you.” 

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

Highlights from the “All I’ve Got Is a Photograph” live stream with Phil, Joe, and Ross

DISCLAIMER: towards the end in the last half hour, my computer was lagging a lot, so I probably missed up to a solid five minutes in total. That being said, some things on here may or may not be clarified.

Joe is VERY TAN HOLY SHIT it is very attractive

Phil getting Mike Wazowskied by the chat when he first came on

all the implications that Joe is not in Dublin right now

“My name is Ross Halfin and I’ve been photographing Def Leppard for about... oh, five minutes?”

people cutting out, leaving an awkward silence, and Joe giving a solid English “Wot?”

the way Joe pronounces the word “mosquitos”

in Holland 1984 Joe left his window open and when he got home there were mosquitos all over the fucking ceiling, so he had to vacuum them off and put the trash bag like 4 blocks away so they wouldn’t come back

Joe saying that Heinz baked beans are an “English delicacy”

^^Furthermore, saying he’s eaten cold baked beans sandwiches on butter bread before

literally all three of them PLUS THE GUY WHO WORKS FOR THE VAULT seeing a photo from Euphoria era and collectively agreeing it’s from the Slang tour and no one corrected them

^^meanwhile everyone in the chat is ripping their hair out saying “IT’S EUPHORIA OMFG”

As per the infamous story where their plane dropped 2000ft in 3 seconds: there was an ashtray floating right in front of Sav, and when the plane got back to normal, it smacked him in the face

^^Joe and Phil laughing a lot at this

Joe saying he loves the bathtub photos of himself: “the shot of me in the bath has always been one of my favorites because it’s just so goofy and it sums up my personality”

Ross’s small black fluffy dog on the couch in the background

Ross saying the bathtub photos had a purpose because Joe was “hunk of the month or something”

^^ Joe laughing at that

I have yet to find out if this is true but- Joe said Slash is Bowie’s godson...??

Joe further regretting his early 90s outfits

Joe being embarrassed by this photo:

^^ (while trying not to look embarrassed) “there’s not a lot you could say about it”

^^^ furthermore explaining he was only doing that because Rik Mayall from The Young Ones was in the pit at the foot of the stage doing that at him during a rehearsal, so Joe did it back to him “sadly, Ross just so happened to be there and captured it”

Ross being the mom friend, trying to get them to behave and pay attention in order to take photos

Rick being the worst one to pay attention during photoshoots

Sav taking the longest to get dressed before a photoshoot

Phil talking about how his pants ripped onstage on the Hysteria tour and “stuff” was “hanging out”

me being once again reminded that that iconic photo of all of them in their Union Jack booty shorts and tank tops was taken less than hour away from me ;-; (not important but anyway)

Joe saying he would wear the Union Jack shorts again next year

Ross getting overly excited whenever he remembered when/where/why something was taken

Joe’s memory still being super accurate and oddly specific

Joe has one of Phil’s old guitar straps and it’s rusted from sweat, plus it’s in a drawer in his studio in Dublin

Joe retelling the story of how they met Brian May:

“hi boys, I’m Brian from Queen :D” Joe, right into the camera: NO SHITE, M8

Bri in ‘83: *plays the opening riff to photograph* Joe, internally, watching him from afar: *level up* :o

Joe- “I will forever go down in pub quiz history as the first person to sing with Queen after Fred died”

Joe eating “a bunch of greasy vegetarian food” then traveling with Robert Plant on his private plane, then “going through the most horrendous turbulence, then about ten minutes before we landed, I just BARFED all over the place”

^^Robert laughing because Joe puked everywhere and all over himself

^^Robert giving Joe one of his shirts to wear instead of the barfy one

^^It’s a black long sleeved illuminati shirt

^^Joe still has it

Joe said he recently had a knee replacement and will “probably have to get the other one done soon”

^^He blames his constant air splits for his knees being fucked up now

Joe reenacting neutral photoshoot poses and staring right into your soul through his camera

Ross confirming the “pissing into the sink” story from ‘79

Joe saying they can’t afford Ross anymore and that he needs to lower his prices and Ross cackling at this

Phil recalling a photoshoot where a seagull shat on his head and he had to go wash it off

^^Joe absolutely fucking LOSING IT it at this. I’ve never seen him laugh so hard I swear he was almost CRYING with laughter it was so adorable

Joe acknowledging how tan he looks because “I’ve been spending a lot of time in the sun these past few months- as you can tell”

^^Joe brushing his hair back so you could see his tan face

Joe saying they (the band) were “fortunate enough to avoid the virus”

Joe stole the “don’t forget us and we won’t forget you” line from (big surprise) Ian Hunter

we ALMOST got through this hour and a half live stream WITHOUT Joe advertising Mott the Hoople we were SO CLOSE GUYS

Joe blowing a kiss at the end of it

Phil thanking the fans UwU

Joe waving goodbye as the Vault closed and sounding sad when he said “cheers, see ya”

ENORMOUS thank you to @ballistic-lipstick-dream-machine​ for paying for a ticket and letting me watch it in real time even tho she couldn’t ilysm ;-;

[ssa-pretty-boy]

Dizzy on the Come Down

Summary: Snippets of phone conversations between Spencer and his girlfriend while he’s away working on cases. Based on the song ‘Dizzy on the Comedown’ by Turnover.

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: all fluff except for some brief phone sex / masturbation

A/N: This is mostly dialogue seeing as though its just phone conversations ha. Also, I’ve repurposed this a couple of times but each time I feel like it comes out a little better. Sooooo if you’ve seen this before… no you haven’t. 

——

Up and down like a red rubber ball

You’re always back and forth like the clock on the wall

I want to know about you

I’m spinning all around you

“Ya know,” Spencer thought aloud as he lounged back against the stiff mattress, “I’m really glad we ended up getting together. Your cat-and-mouse shit was getting really annoying.”

“Cat-and-mouse shit? Spencer Reid,” she paused to snort out a laugh, “I was smitten from the start and you know it! Besides, it took me weeks just to convince you to come into my apartment.”

A dark blush worked its way onto his cheeks even though he was alone in the dingy, motel room. “I was too,” he grinned. “I’m completely enamored, bubs. And I have been from the moment I saw you dancing around in that crap hole of a record store. And by the way, that’s called being a gentleman.”

“Okay first of all, its not a crap hole anymore since the new owner cleaned it up,” she defended, immensely proud of all her hard work she put into her store. “And second, its called you being too chicken to ask me out.” She laughed, knowing damn well that he had made her just as nervous and giddy as she made him. She smiled broadly and snuggled a little further into the leather arm chair, her legs dangling over one of the arms.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he chuckled.

If I stay do you think that we could change your routine?

I know a trick, I’ve always got a few up my sleeve

This life is controlled confusion

It’s just a grand illusion

“Today I was at this mall right? We were trying to find anyone who could have been a witness,” he paused, choking out a laugh, “Well, I saw this magician guy and he was doing card tricks. Derek and I went over to him but when we got closer I realized his form was all wrong-”

She wasn’t able to help the giggle that bubbled out of her, he simply could not resist the opportunity to show off his ‘sweet skills’ as he so loved to put it. “Let me guess: you showed him how to do the trick properly?”

He scoffed, “Of course I did. With technique like that he was giving magicians everywhere a bad name.”

“Oh I’m sure,” she teased, screwing the cap on the bottle of red nail polish she’d been using to paint her toes. “Did you finally teach Derek how to do one while you were at it?”

“Absolutely not! I can’t just reveille my secrets to a member of the general public, Y/N. The only reason the old guy got any help is because he was at least trying to teach himself.” She could practically see the look on his face right then, the overly dignified set to his jaw, his raised brows. 

“M’kay doc. Whatever you say,” she hummed into the receiver, fanning her freshly painted toenails. 

And you ask me “How do you feel when you’re away?”

And you ask me “How do you pass the days?”

“How are you feeling?” she whispered into the dark of their bedroom, her phone tucked between her shoulder and cheek.

He sighed, a long drawn out breath that could’ve easily been mistaken for a gust of wind. “It’s been pretty shitty; hectic and tiring ya know? Local P.D. doesn’t want to cooperate, the families are clearly not telling us something… But we caught a break today so we’re really hopeful things will start to turn around now. But right now?” Spencer paused, squeezing his eyes shut and sighing again, “Right now I just really fucking miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she whispered, clutching his pillow tightly to her chest. “Please just be safe, Spence.”

His chest tightened at her words, he knew worried she always was for him. “I will be baby.” 

Sing along to a song that I know

It goes bah bah bada, sing it over and over

Let it hypnotize you

I’m still here right beside you

“I cannot get that stupid song out of my head,” he groaned as the simple chorus of the over played pop song drifted through his mind again and again and again. 

She laughed, a melodic tune he’d missed so much in the past few days. It sounded slightly warped though the phone but it was her none the less. “Which one, doc?”

Scrubbing his hands over his face he sighed as he mindlessly flipped through a boating magazine he found tucked into the nightstand drawer. “I don’t even know the name of it. The chorus goes something like ‘bah bah bada’,” he hummed, his fingers subconsciously tapping out the rhythm on his thigh. 

“I think I could list off ten songs with a beat similar to that one,” she countered, her laugh still light and lilting.

Spencer rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help the small smile that was tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh c’mon bubs, you know it! It’s the one you really like! You’re always singing it,” he mused, reminiscing on all the times he’d caught her humming it under her breath. 

Her eyebrows puled together as she concentrated, trying to recall the song he was speaking of. “Spence, there is honestly no telling. You know its like a 24 hour radio in my head!”

Hold my hand, you can follow my lead

You’re like a ballerina twirling round on your feet

And watching is so fantastic

I want to ask you 

Spencer hadn’t laughed in what felt like days, not a real belly aching laugh anyway. But she had him stitches, nearly doubled over at the lame jokes and stories she was telling him in attempts to lift his spirits, she knew how tough this case was. Finally after a moment she caught her breath. “Do you remember that time we were dancing around in the kitchen? It had to have been like midnight or something and you just started to twirl me around. And we ended up slipping because we both had socks on and I broke my arm?” 

“God, how could I forget that?” he groaned, softly laughing at the memory of the two of you tangled in a mess on the kitchen tiles. He had truly been scared to shitless regardless of her assurance that it wasn’t his fault. When he saw her trembling lip and the tears she had tried to hold at bay, it damn near broke his heart. “I was terrified I had hurt you really bad- worse than a broken arm! Then when I finally got you home from the hospital you were so high on the pain killers you could barely walk straight. I all but had to carry you to bed.”

“And you apologize for weeks and you probably still don’t believe that it wasn’t your fault.” She started laughing again as she said it and he could practically feel the love radiating from her, even from so far away.

“I really fucking love you.” Spencer smiled so wide it actually hurt his cheeks a little but it was an ache he’d always welcome. 

Would you come here and spin with me?

I’ve been dying to get you dizzy,

Find a way up into your head

So I can make you feel like new again

“I really fucking need you right now. I’ve been hard for days.” Well, she thought, what a way to answer the phone. 

Mindful of her surroundings, she bit down on her lip to suppress her laugh and quietly suggested that he go take care of that.

Scoffing, he rolled his eyes as if she could see him through the phone. “My hand has nothing on your mouth or your pussy.”

“Spencer!” she squealed and quickly reached up to turn down the volume on her cellphone when the lady next her gasped at what she had no doubt heard him say. 

Mumbling a quick ‘sorry’ to the other patrons, Y/N made a mad dash for the door of the crowded coffee shop. She looked over her shoulder to see the woman staring after her slack jawed. Cringing, she turned away from the storefront window, her cheeks and neck heating up as she started speed walking down the sidewalk. 

“Well, it’s fucking true! I’m dying to touch you again. To make you cum,” he said, his voice growing husky.

“Are you trying to have phone sex with me, doc? While I’m walking down the damn street? The people in the coffee shop probably thought I was some ten cent floozy!” The thinly veiled attempt at annoyance did nothing to hide the amusement in her voice. Spencer hummed, his hand sliding down over his stomach and toying with the drawstring of his faded (he refused to refer to them as ‘ratty’ as Y/N did) flannel pajama pants. “No way. Fifteen cents minimum.”

With a roll of her eyes she did laugh that time. “Can we put this conversation on hold until I get home? I’m literally only a block away from the apartment.”

Now collapse, take delight in the fall and catch your breath

I know you feel the ring from it 

So try and collect yourself now

It’s just a euphoric comedown

“Come on baby,” he practically growled as he continued to roughly tug on his throbbing cock. “Cum hard for me. Make the neighbors think I’m actually there.”

She gasped at his encouragement and sped up the fingers she had rubbing small, tight circles on her clit, she had nearly forgotten just how filthy his mouth could be. “Oh god,” she moaned, tossing her head back into the pillows and arching her back off the mattress, the phone nearly slipping from where she had it trapped between her shoulder and ear. Adding just the slightest bit of pressure as she continued to swirl her fingers, she came, choking on a hoarse call of his name. Letting the pure euphoria take over, her toes curled and legs trembled as the pleasure washed over her in waves. It wasn’t as intense as the orgasms he gave her but it would have to do until he got home.

At the sound of her cumming and calling out his name, Spencer met his own high. He grunted and easily milked himself through his own orgasm. The line went quiet for a moment and he thought she might have fallen asleep. “You still there sweet girl?” He was panting, still trying to catch his breath as he grabbed a few tissues and cleaned himself up.

“Yeah,” she sighed softly and Spencer was kicking himself for not thinking of switching to FaceTime so he could see the look on her face. “Just a little blissed out.”

And you ask me “How do you feel when you’re away?”

And you ask me “How do you pass the days?”

“How are you feeling?” she cooed. “You’re on bed rest right? You need to be if you aren’t. You have got to start getting some rest. That’s probably a big part in why you’re so sick. That and you don’t take vitamins or drink juices.”

Spencer rolled his eyes and tried to snap a snarky reply but all that came out was a bone-rattling cough. Groaning, he rolled onto his side and placing the phone on the pillow beside him and switched it to ‘speaker’ so he wouldn’t have to use the energy to hold the phone up. “I feel like hot garbage. Wish you were here,” he mumbled before another fit of coughs racked through his achy body.

She pouted and sat completely helpless in their bedroom, wishing more than anything that she could be there with him, nursing him back to health. “I’m sorry baby. I love you,” she offered quietly, hoping her words would comfort him in some way. 

“Love you too,” he rasped and she felt her heart sink a little further in her chest.

Cause I can still remember when you were afraid of the dark

And I told you to come and you followed where I asked you to go

“You know I’d follow you anywhere, right?” he whispered, pulling the scratchy sheet tighter around him. “To hell and back if I had to. All you have to do is ask and I’m there.”

Sighing, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed the tears away. “I know you would.”

They were both quiet for a while, letting the silence fall over them like a thick, comforting blanket. His eyes darted around his hotel room and he desperately wished he was back in his apartment with her. Holding her. Comforting her. “Its just scary ya know?” she finally spoke up. “I mean I have total faith in your ability to take care of yourself, don’t get me wrong. But being so far away from you… its terrifying and not to mention so fucking lonely sometimes. Every time the phone rings I’m terrified its going to be Derek or J.J. telling me you’ve been hurt. I know how much you love your job and I’d never ask you to choose, but it is scary.”

His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, he swore it actually felt like it had cracked in half. “I know, baby. I know,” he sighed, raking a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends a little. “It wont be much longer now. I promise.” He paused again, eyes darting around the room in hopes of finding something to say to help ease her worries. Finally his eyes landed on the book peeking from his opened satchel at the foot of the bed. “Would you like me to read to you?” 

His offer was sweet and genuine and instantly brought a smile to her face. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

Would you come here and spin with me?

I’ve been dying to get you dizzy,

Find a way up into your head

So I can make you feel like new again

“Bubs,” Spencer cooed, his tone quiet and soothing. “Just come out to Las Vegas. Let me fly you out. We’re wrapping up the case now and my mom was asking about you when I called yesterday. She’d be thrilled to see you.”

Sniffling, she wiped at her nose. She was quiet for a few minutes, her attention focused on picking at a stray string on the fluffy white duvet covering their bed. “Can I? Come out there, I mean. I need you. I wont be in the way, I promise.”

Spencer was speaking quietly, trying not to draw too much attention to himself in the bustling precinct but he was practically buzzing with excitement at the thought of her accepting his offer. As discretely as he could, he sat down at the nearest unoccupied computer and pulled up a few airline websites to compare prices. “Of course you can baby. And there’s no way that you’d get in the way. I’ll book you a flight now. How long do you want to stay?”

“How long can I stay?” Her voice quiet like his own, raw from crying to him for the past fifteen minutes about how horrible her day had gone.

With the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder, he quickly browsed through the webpages, comparing the airlines and what each had to offer. “We can stay as long as you want,” he assured her, his tone making it evident just how serious he was about his offer.

“You were planning on a whole week, right?” she asked hesitantly, almost like she was afraid he would tell her that he had changed his mind.

He confirmed that a week was in fact the original plan but then offered to tack on a few extra days, he had the extra vacation time saved up so why not use them up. They both desperately needed the break. When she agreed he gave a comical ‘whoop!’ into the phone earning him several confused looks from not only his team mates but the local detectives that were still in the room. “This is going to be great. I can show you all my favorite places from when I was a kid! All you need is a little quality Spencer time and we’ll have you feeling like new in no time.”

“I think that’s exactly what I need.”

[lokislytherin]

euphoria // vampire!jungkook

pairing: vampire!jeon jeongguk x human!reader summary: you’re scared of vampires - until one saves your life one night. word count: 1988 +  a/n: here’s to @jungkooksbish​ ! happy birthday ily 💜💜💜

chapters: prologue / chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / epilogue

It’s a dark and gloomy night, but you walk alone down the silent streets.

There’s not a soul in sight, save the crescent moon hanging in the sky, your only companion.  Night has fallen and it’s getting late, and your friends are all gone, having just realized you’ve all lost track of time.  In your haste to return to the little apartment you call home, you’ve (quite unwisely, now that you think of it) decided to take a shortcut down one the spookier alleys.  You know for certain it’ll take you home – you’ve walked it countless times during the day.  But this time is different, and as you walk along, you’re starting to seriously regret your decision.  You never know about the creatures that thrive in the dark, after all.

You’ve been warned about them before, by the lucky few who have survived their encounters to tell the tale.  Everybody knows to be wary of the supernatural nightlife, knows to lower their voices when they speak around the metaphorical campfire.  You know about most of them: the witches, who escaped a fiery death at the stake long ago and now live among mankind, running amok with their magic; the werewolves, who live at the mercy of the wax and wane of the moon, at best a little worse than a man and at worst a little better than a beast; the shifters, who are experts at hiding in society, the apparent lesser of the evils.  

Of course, you can’t forget about the most dangerous ones of them all: the vampires, soulless undead who lured their victims to their doom with their unnatural beauty, who fed not on ordinary food and water, but preyed on other creatures, preferring to drink the blood of humans who live and breathe as you do.  You don’t think you’ve ever encountered any of them before, and you hope that you’re lucky enough never to.

But of course, as fate will have it, luck is not your friend. stomp. Your eyes widen, and you can’t help but suck in a breath.  Peeking over your shoulder, you see nothing but the shadows beside you.  It’s deathly silent out there.  Calm down, Y/N, you tell yourself firmly, it was probably just a monster rat.  If it attacks you, just whack it with all you’ve got.  You’re still spooked, and you walk a little faster, hold your phone a little tighter.  The battery is low, but you know that 1% you’ve got will last you long enough to get to safety.  Having a mere semblance of comfort is better than nothing at all. STOMP. You whip around, suspicious.  You’re certain you just heard footsteps.  But once again, there’s nothing to be seen but the lonely lunar light.  The peacefulness of the night should put you at ease, but today it just seems eerie.  You rub your eyes with a scowl, careful not to move your contacts.  You’re probably just hallucinating due to sleep deprivation.

It’s too quiet – A sweaty hand grips onto your bare arm, and you yell at the top of your arms.  You know you’re loud enough to be heard by any source of help – the singer’s lungs you’ve trained so hard to achieve aren’t for nothing.  You try to shake off the disgusting hand, but your efforts prove fruitless: attached to the hand is a leering middle-aged man, whose breath reeks of alcohol and cigarette smoke.  "Hey, pretty girl," he sneers as he paws drunkenly at your body.  "I'll show you a good time." Disgusting.

He’s not one of them, as you’d originally feared, but he’s dangerous all the same, especially when he’s drunk (but sober enough to be a pervert) and you have your, uh, assets.  In the daylight, men would only dare catcall, whistling (c)rudely at your body. You crack your knuckles.  Ideally, you’d avoid a fight, or any kind of violence, but at times like this you don’t really have much of a choice, do you? It’s probably time you practice your kickboxing skills anyway.  Your kicking might be rusty, but you can still throw a mean right hook.

Deciding to take a page out of your trigger-happy friend’s book, you twist and punch the sleazebag in the face.  He shrieks as your fist smacks squarely into his nose, which makes a sickening crack.  He stumbles back, clutching his face, looking almost insulted at how you even dare to punch him.  Blood drips from between his fingers.  He deserves a good punch, the misogynistic jerk.  You walk off: he’s not worth any more of your time. "Hey! Come back here!" He howls as he gives chase, enraged.  His boots clomp heavily behind you, a dead giveaway.  He’s not sober in the least, and you can hear him grunt as he stumbles and falls.  His drunkenness should slow him down enough for you to make a quick getaway, but you’re wearing your favorite pumps, and cute as they are, they won’t let you run as fast as you’d like either.  "You sick little bi-"

His shouts are cut off abruptly. Did somebody happen to hear your cry for help and decide to lend a hand? Did the old pervert finally collapse in a drunken stupor? You’re not sure if you want to know what happened to the crazy stalker, but terrified curiosity gets the better of you.  Turning around, you regret yelling that Libras die first every time you watch a horror film with your friends – if this was a scene from a horror movie, you’d die first, and you’re Gemini. Good going, Y/N.  You’re going to die.

The sight that greets you makes you stumble and gag.  The man’s eyes are wide with terror, mouth open in a soundless scream.  Even worse, blood oozes out from two clean puncture wounds on his neck.  Behind him is a young man, looking not much older than you are.  He winks at you flirtatiously, grinning and flashing pearly white fangs that look far too real to be a product of your imagination.

Vampire. "Help me!" The old pervert wheezes.  You stumble back, bile rising in your throat. Your heartbeat accelerates, and your frantic attempts to slow it down only makes your heart beat faster.  The vampire can probably hear your heartbeat, smell your fear.  You can almost taste the metallic tang of blood on your tongue, a trail of dark red illuminated by the flickering streetlights.  You smell it before it happens – the rancid odor of death wafts in the air, and the vampire cheerfully snaps the old man’s neck.

His head lolls backwards. The young man grins at you, eyeing you in a way that looks less hungry and more curious.  He may be a vampire and a killer, but at least he’s not a pervert and a creep like that other guy, the more optimistic side of your mind suggests.  A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, licking his lips clean of blood.  His fangs gleam in the dark.  One of them is a little chipped.  "You’re welcome, by the way." Not gonna lie, that was kind of hot, says the voice in your head.

"Thanks." You slowly back away, sounding calmer than you really are.  You don’t let your gaze off him even for a second, but avoid making direct eye contact.  You never know – the second you look away from him, he might decide to have you as a midnight snack… His blue eyes glimmer red, and a small voice in your head reminds you helpfully that red eyes in vampires means ‘hunger’.  Uh oh, says the voice in your head.  

Uh oh indeed.  The vampire opens his mouth. "Run."

You do just that, tearing out of that place like your life depends on it because it quite literally does.Thankfully, fate finally decides to be kind to you, as your beloved shoes don’t fall off and leave you with a twisted ankle, and the vampire boy doesn’t hunt you down just for kicks and giggles either. You unlock the door of your apartment, ready to flop onto your bed and fall into a long-awaited slumber, hoping that you’d wake up the next morning and realize that everything that had happened was just a dream, you didn’t really encounter a vampire. Unfortunately for you, it’s all real, and painfully so.

Life decides to give you a slap in the face in the name of your roommate and good friend Kim Seokjin, who is still awake and waiting for you on the couch with a cup of tea in one hand and a scowl on his handsome face.  He looks annoyed, but you know there’s a softie hiding under that cold, tough exterior he likes to put on. "So, Y/N," he drawls with a sip of his tea and a raise of an eyebrow, "where have you been?" He places his tea down on the saucer on his lap, not breaking eye contact.  He’s suspicious, but a suspicious Seokjin is still better than an angry one. You shrug with a loud sigh.  "Places." He cocks his head, not sure whether you’re lying or not. "It’s been a long day." You’re not wrong.  You flop onto the couch next to him, careful not to make him spill his tea.  "Almost got jumped by a creepy old perv," you mutter, leaving out the part where said ‘creepy old pervert’ got killed and drained by a bloodsucker.  Your lateness has caused Seokjin enough worry as it is, you don’t need to give him another reason to have a heart attack over you.

Seokjin shakes his head sympathetically.  "Poor you." Both of you lapse into silence as Seokjin continues to sip his tea.  You know he’s still suspicious.  "It’s gonna be Saturday tomorrow, but it's still almost one in the morning.  Tae’s coming over tomorrow, and you know how energetic he gets."

You laugh.  Seokjin’s younger brother is one of the most eccentric people you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, with a peculiar fashion sense and even stranger conversation topics.  You think he may have even howled at the moon, once, but you can’t be too sure.  It’s all good in the long run – once you get to know him, Taehyung is a genuinely awesome guy. He rises, padding over to the kitchen to wash his teacup.  He’s a bit of a hypocrite – you’re an insomniac, and you've never seen Seokjin sleep.  The older man stretches, spine cracking obscenely as he makes his way to his room.  "Get some sleep, Y/N.  I don’t want to see you out here until morning." You fake a yawn to satisfy him, your mind still buzzing with activity after an encounter with an enigmatic bloodsucker who’d saved your life without asking for anything in return.  "Night, Jin." That night, you take extra precautions in making sure that the door to your apartment is locked, and that all your windows are closed for certain.  You proceed to crawl into your bed and hide under the safety of your covers, squeezing your eyes shut only to see a pair of mesmerizing blue eyes floating at the forefront of your mind, flickering red.

Your eyes fly open.

“So much for sleeping,” you mutter to yourself. Damn bloodsucker. You muffle a scream with your pillow as the vampire in your mind's eye shoots you a charming wink. “Y/N, go to sleep!” Seokjin yells from his room next door.

[jane-the-zombie]

Kiss Me Deadly || Felix & Jane

TIMING: Present LOCATION: Sharen Dickwell’s house on the lake.  PARTIES: @streetharmacist & @jane-the-zombie SUMMARY: We wrote this while BUZZED CONTENT WARNINGS: Drug Use, Explosion 

There was something kind of funny about the way shame hit the second the sun went down. It became heavier and weighted, the reality of going to do something that was against everything Jane stood for hitting her just as she threw her leg over her bike. The feeling mixed poorly with knowing that she could die at any time. Since Kaden had told her what Regan’s death scream meant, the rush of death pumped raw adrenaline through her - a welcoming feeling. A feeling of freedom, of carelessness, of euphoria she couldn’t quite describe. But it also created a dulled sense of panic. Jane gambled with her life every moment of every day, choosing to do things most people wouldn’t consider safe so she could feel that rush. She had never let it affect her morals, but now in the wake of her possible death, Jane was compromising that so she could feel a rush she had never felt before. Something that was dangerous and exciting and something she hadn’t done solely because of her job. The voice in the back of her mind - the same one appeared when she jumped off cliffs and planes and pushed her motorcycle past 90 when she wasn’t wearing a helmet - told her that this was wrong. It was quieter these days, drowned out by Jane chasing whatever it was she wanted, and she silenced it as she pulled up in front of the Lakehouse Felix had directed her too. She pulled up front, parking her bike on the side of the road as she stared up at the house.

Jane had never been here before. She glanced at the mailbox. 70 - Dickwell. She grimaced. What an unfortunate last name. She told Felix to meet her out front so he could give her the drugs, and she could give him the money and that would be that. She didn’t want to see him and she most certainly didn’t want to hear what he had to say about what she was doing. Jane would just do everything in peace. As she leaned against her bike, she looked at the house. One of the porch lights was out, and the door was left open. Her eyes narrowed. “Felix?” Jane called, but there was no answer. Something was off here. Without another thought otherwise, Jane walked up the walkway of the house, and entered. “Felix? Ms. Dickwell?”

Sharen Dickwell wasn’t the weirdest client name Felix had happened upon in his almost-two-centuries of existence, but it was certainly up there. Very up there. Nearly up there enough that he couldn’t hardly keep from laughing when he passed by the mailbox. It was business he was after and his expression said as much. He didn’t often like to make house calls. They were too risky and leaned a little too close to russian roulette circumstances. He didn’t approach the Dickwell residence with concern. Not really much of a bother at all on his mind. There was a small back porch attached to the home that he waited on and looked out over the lake. Things seemed to be settling and that only said so much in a place like White Crest.

Sharen had given him the directions and told him to wait. Something to do with meeting her sister and she wouldn’t be gone long. Or was she looking for her wallet? He didn’t think much of it as he stood on the creaking balcony and took a small drag of a cigarette. Didn’t think too much of anything. Fuck, he was tired. Emotionally drained. His rumpled appearance said as much. Bloodshot eyes, suit less than perfect. Oh well. After this was done, he would be meeting Jane. That had him thinking and his brows furrowed. It was a little strange, her sudden inquiry into drugs. Especially after every arrest attempt he could recall. Heck, there were a lot, and that was just back in Portland. White Crest assured a few more. He leaned against the wood and looked down on the still water below. Flicked his ashes into the water. It had been a cool minute since anything from Sharen. He turned back to the patio door with a frown.

“Ms. Dickwell? Hate to tell you this, but I really don’t got all night.”

“Felix?” Jane was getting increasingly paranoid. She wasn’t sure if it was because of how on edge she was or if it was because this woman’s house was sort of creepy. It was neat enough, with white washed walls and semi-ornate trim along the walls that indicated that Ms. Dickwell was wealthy, but things were just… too clean. There wasn’t any sign that anyone lived in the house. Nothing was out of place, like it was on display for a real-estate open house or something. Things smelled sterile even. She moved through the house, checking each room, but there truly was no sign of life anywhere. She rounded off into the kitchen, seeing the big glass doors that lead off outside to overlook the lake. God, a house like this must have cost a pretty chunk of change. She didn’t envy the mortgage. Jane stopped though, thinking she heard a voice, but more importantly, she thought she smelled gunpowder. “What the hell -” As someone who frequently used her weapon, she knew the smell of it when it hit her nostrils. “Ugh.” And then she heard the quiet ticking. A timer? Jane rounded the island, and froze.

Resting on the island stool was a neat little device attached to an alarm clock.  She looked down at it blankly. “What?” Jane asked it stupidly, just like she did when her step stool at home was misbehaving in its cage. Like it could hear her and listen to her. Except the clock was counting down from 35 seconds and she realized that even if she sprinted out of the house, there was no way she wasn’t going to die. The cultists at the beach were one thing, but death was another. Jane backed up slightly, her black boots clicking against the hardwood floors. She had no first hand experience with bombs. She had been on scene where ones have been found, but there was nothing stopping her. She couldn’t think. Everything had stopped. It was time. The inevitable.

As the counter went below 29 seconds she had a thought. “Felix?”

Felix started to pay how long Sharen was taking a little mind. Especially as the heat of his cigarette started to meet his fingers. Careless. He could already feel Bea’s eyes on him, concern alive in her eyes. She wanted him to be okay. He could try that, yeah. Even if it didn’t fir quite right. With that in mind, he adjusted his tie, lips pursed. It started to get a little silly. At the rate things went, he wondered if a consultation fee might not be a bad idea down the line. He paused to eye the ashtray. Clean. Pristine. Even the sticker on the bottom wasn’t touched much. He set it back upright and ashed out his cigarette.

“Alright, Sharen,” he said, an edge to his voice. “I think I’m gonna have to cash out on this. It’s getting a little foolish and I’m not in the mood.”

He shook his head as he stepped one foot over the threshold of the patio door. A strange yet familiar sound was in his ears. As he glanced over, a strange but familiar face was there too. Looked like someone might have gotten a little impatient.

“Jane?”

The clock continued to tick down faster than Jane would have liked. She didn’t know where Felix was. She hadn’t talked to Marley today - she needed to apologize for being a bitch. What about her dad? Her siblings? What were her last words to them? Why did it suddenly matter like she wasn’t going to be alive and kicking in 24 hours?  And where the fuck was Felix?! Thoughts raced in her head and she saw where the fuck Felix was, his form in the doorway, saying in her name. Son of a bitch. A jolt of panic went straight through her as she met Felix’s eyes, her brown eyes wide. “Felix no!” she gasped, horrified. Just because she died and came back didn’t mean anyone else would too. She flew to him before he could say anything else, ask her any question, or say anything at all, really. Jane collided with Felix hard, slamming them both outside onto the deck. He didn’t struggle much as her arms wrapped around him, gripping him by his rumpled suit as tight as possible as she threw them both up and over the low railing of the patio.

Just as her feet left the wood deck, the house exploded into a deafening fiery mass. The ringing in her ears and intense heat of the explosion was hardly noticeable as Felix and Jane plummeted into the lake water. It took Jane a second to reorient herself underwater, watching as fire colored everything above the surface. She was still clutching onto Felix for dear life - life. Oh shit! They were alive! She exclaimed as much, and promptly inhaled lakewater up her nose and lungs. Jane jerked, her grip loosening as she started to kick and push herself upwards, chest burning. She wasn’t going to be a witness to an explosion just to drown afterwards.

With one final push, she broke the surface, spluttering and hacking water. “What - What - Felix! Felix, where are - Shit.”

Felix no? But what about Felix yes? Confusion hit him hard, the disorientation enough to lock his jaw up, and he could only stare at Jane as she ran at him. Wait, had she lied to him? No, she had promised and the way things went, she couldn’t just go back on it. That was an arrest tackle about to be mad if he had ever seen one. It didn’t bode well. Why was she running at him full-bore? All good questions that jostled in his head the minute she slammed into him. Shoved him straight back through the door he had walked in through and--there went the ashtray--straight over the railing. He blinked in the air and then the house exploded. The shockwaves and pure adrenaline from having walked into a house rigged to blow scattered his illusion. The heat of the blast didn’t last long as they crashed into frigid water. Water. They were in the lake. She let go of him and for a moment, he didn’t move. Dazed. He stared up through the dark to see the blaze overhead. It stirred him to move.

His antlers breached the surface, the rest of his head not long after as he spat out water. The dim lights of his eyes halved as he squinted. His glasses were gone. Or so he thought, until the broken frames floated up to the surface. He looked at them for just a second before he looked over to Jane.

“What the heck was that?” He looked at the burning lakehouse that they both had just readily been in. They hadn’t died. They could have. But they didn’t.

A large tree rose out of the lake as Jane coughed, treading water as she hurriedly looked for Felix. Oh. Wait. That was Felix. The tree was Felix. Her mind scattered, she looked back toward the wall of flame that had become the house. Holy shit. “Bomb in the kitchen.” Jane spluttered, coughing. “Just sitting there.” There was a bomb in that house. And she survived! She survived the explosion! She survived a mass of cultists and an explosion! She looked back to tree Felix, before her eyes widened. Felix wasn’t supposed to be a tree. Jane stared at him horrified. “You have a branch in your head!” she said, immediately concerned as she swam closer and reached up, grabbing the - oh. Jane stared as her hand circled around the antler. Tree Felix. Stupid. She was going into some form of shock. She looked back at the burning house, and then at Felix’s face with his glowy eyes. “.... Did you know you’re horny?” Jane asked, still holding on to them. “I mean, horns? I mean, antlers? Antlers. Antlers!” And suddenly she felt the rush. The rush from the fact that they just survived a whole explosion. Unfortunately, that made her start laughing really hard. So much so, she couldn’t stop.

His ears rang, that was a given, but it took Felix a long moment to acknowledge what she had said. Even as bits of the house floated by him. The house that apparently had a bomb in it. A sharp pain burned in his shoulder. Similar pain traced along his jawline. When he glanced down, he could see the black liquid wisps that smoked out of a cut in his shoulder. He didn’t bleed anything near similar to humans but what he did bleed was there, black ink in already dark water. He was vaguely aware that Jane was talking to him. Wowza, they had almost died and for some reason, he started to smile. The nerve shock of his antlers being grabbed startled him out of self-assessment. He stared at Jane, eyes bright circles of surprise. He blinked.

“Yes, Jane,” he said plainly. “Yes, I am fully aware that I’m horny.”

His head jerked slightly as she talked and he shut his eyes, prayed to some fate as he waited through it. They had just been in an explosion and the energy was, well, properly shaken. He could have died. And it was a funny feeling. When was the last time he considered that he might? As he pondered over it, she began to laugh and he couldn’t help but laugh too. Tired as he was. Exhausted as he was. It rasped out of him as tears of some nature or other leaked from the corners of his eyes. It really had been a month, hadn’t it?

“Criminy, Jane, they’re just antlers. Whatcha laughing so hard for?”

Jane was wheezing by the time she stopped, full tears coming out of her eyes, as her limbs burned from keeping herself afloat. Finally, she let poor Felix go, hand splashing back into the water as she stared at him. Something was starting to hurt, she realized. Her back, her right arm and hip. Was she bleeding? Shit. She was. Whatever. Felix spoke and that it set her off again. Her loud laughing pierced through the air, half sobbing as she cackled. “Holy - fucking - crap! I’m supposed to be dead! I was supposed to die! I’m not dead!” And then she let herself sink down under the cool water for a full 10 seconds. Reorient. Calm down. Where was all her police training? Well, she supposed she wasn’t here as police. She was here to buy drugs. Breaking the surface again, she took a large breath of fresh air, the nerves inside dancing under her skin as she looked at Felix, panting heavily. “I didn’t know you had antlers,” she blurted out, swallowing a half hysterical giggle. You’re hurt -” Jane registered, reaching out to him - this time not quite touching him. “Come on, to shore. Now. So I can take a look.”

It seemed to click for Felix as she said it. I was supposed to die. The bite. The burning dress. The one time he offered her drugs before and was sure he was about to get arrested. The time, right then, that he was going to sell her drugs and she promised he wouldn’t be arrested. She thought she might die. She risked herself for him. Even in post-explosion daze, he could piece that together. It didn’t leave him as the water weighed him. Exhausted him. With his antler free, he shook his head back and looked up at the moon. Even in his peripheral, he could still see the burning lakehouse. Sharen Dickwell must have really had it out for him. And to think, he almost considered not telling Jane about the lakehouse deal. To think he might have been scattered to every wind, no more a shadow. No more anything. A strange thought. When Jane resurfaced, he looked at her again, mouth slightly parted.

“...Holy cannoli, you saved my life.”

He moved with Jane as she guided them toward the lake’s shoreline. Mud on their hands and shoes as they crawled out of the heavy water. A quick glance at her told him he wasn’t the only one hurt. He patted his pants pockets, his suit jacket.

“Oh thank the fates,” he said, antlered head tipped back as he sighed relief. “The shrooms are okay.”

“Yes,” Jane agreed, because it was true. He wouldn’t have known about the bomb. Ms. Dickwell had to have put it there, and left, leaving poor Felix to his fate. Thank god she went inside. Thank god she’d looked around. Felix wouldn’t have survived - they were both hurt already. “You don’t come back,” she said, as if that explained everything. “You - You would have died forever.” They clambored to shore, the mud sticking to her leggings and hands as they pushed themselves up onto the lake beach with a low moan. Shit. Things were really starting to hurt now. She shook her head as Felix mentioned the shrooms, looking up at the night sky with a low laugh.

“The shrooms. They’re okay!” Jane said, sarcasm mixed with laughter as she sat in the dirt. She hissed in pain. Ouch. “Oh god.” Those were her shrooms. Her shrooms were okay. Shit. Luckily the burning house gave them plenty of light so she could properly see him. “You - do you heal quickly? How much pain are you in? I -” Jane ran a hand down her face. They were in a pickle, weren’t they? Jane shrugged out of her leather jacket, hissing quietly in pain. “Think I’ll manage.” She looked curiously at him, considering a moment. How many times had she tried to arrest him over the years for making comments lesser than that?

She laughed lowly. “At least something survived.”

A human had saved his life. Felix tried to get a grasp on that. He hadn’t even made her promise to save his life and yet, she had done it. As he sat on the beach, he stared at the mud. Dim lights blinked in and out. Why had he not considered death so greatly before? His jaw worked as he tried to think it over but he couldn’t. Jiminy Christmas, why did he feel so tired? Why was pain so alive in him? He hissed slightly as he dug into his shoulder. His fingers burned and his wrist snapped forward as he pulled out a decently-sized shard of something out. The way it burned, he knew what it was. Iron.

“Nope,” he said as he tossed it out onto the mud. The rush in him forbade him from anything but honesty. No word play to be found. “I wouldn’t have come back from that at all. You saved my life. I owe you a debt. You know that, right?”

He breathed in as he tried to center himself. There was more iron in him and ground his teeth together. Careless. How careless could he have been? Walking into some stranger Sharen Dickwell’s house like nothing might happen? Things had not gone well. Hell, he was tired. He took to taking out the iron shards he could readily get his fingers on. “It doesn’t feel great,” he admitted with a dry laugh. “But I’ll make do with all this, detective. Don’t you worry your not-dead head over it.” She bled too. What a human thing to do. “And your pain?”

He rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a slightly soggy blue mushroom. Glanced at Jane.

“So, not quite a painkiller, Jane. But it’ll get the job done.”

A debt? Somehow that felt wrong, but Jane nodded anyway, looking up at the moon. They were hurt and bleeding, and she probably needed to go to the hospital or something. Sooner or later, someone was bound to call the police. But this was the part of town where this wouldn’t get reported until the next day, and all the CSI’s would be shitty and cranky about it, and Marley and Keen would complain and ugh. Jane groaned quietly, stretching her arm and leg as she glanced at him. “I would have saved you no matter what, Felix,” Jane said quietly. There was something laced in the words that she didn’t quite know what to label. Were they truly friends? After years and years of her chasing him with handcuffs after one fateful evening of her torching her expensive wedding dress, all the quips and innuendos and everything else in between, were they friends? Jane didn’t have to think too hard on it, because she suddenly realized how grateful she was that he was here in White Crest too. Made the bad a little less bad.

“Well… I’m not dead,” she reminded with a wary grin, before wincing as she shifted. “But it hurts a fair amount. Ouch.” And she would need to stop the bleeding and clean the wound for whatever was lodged in there. Jesus. She squinted slightly at the blue mushroom he held out to her, looking down at it and then back at him, and then back down at it again. She had a decision to make. And as the house burned behind them, Jane already knew what it was going to be.

“Oh Hell,” Jane whispered to herself, holding out her hand for it. “I still want to do them before I die, I might as well do it with you, my friend.”

The little blue mushroom was dropped into her hand, and she popped the mushroom back.

[thisbitchinthecorner]

One Year after the End of the World that Wasn’t- Day 23

Warning: Descriptions of a sexual encounter- nothing too vulgar, but be warned, they doin’ it now 😉 For @drawlight *Song is I’ll be your mirror” by The Velvet Underground

Ghost Prompt!

Crowley woke up frantic, sweating and screaming. Screaming a name. Screaming his name. His eyes wide in terror, still seeing the flames as they danced along the walls, cascaded wildly through the stacks upon stacks of books, gliding over the old wooden desk and closing in around an angel- his angel. The flames held him in the grip of a nightmare, still refusing to extinguish, holding him hostage to his paralyzing fear.

“Aziraphale!” His voice, dry and breaking as he called out into the darkness. His chest heaving, his breath shallow.

“Crowley! It’s alright! Shhh, I’m right here, I’m right here.” The angel wrapped his arms around the demon as he pulled him close to his body. “Shhh, you’re safe, I’m right here.”

A sob escaped as he grips tightly, ever so tightly to the angel. He’s shaking, his entire body trembling with panic.

“Shhh.” Aziraphale cooed, soft with his words, gentle with his touch. He began to sing a song equally soft and gentle:

I'll be your mirror

Reflect what you are, in case you don't know

I'll be the wind, the rain and the sunset

The light on your door to show that you're home

When you think the night has seen your mind

That inside you're twisted and unkind

Let me stand to show that you are blind

Please put down your hands

'Cause I see you

I find it hard to believe you don't know

The beauty you are

But if you don't let me be your eyes

A hand to your darkness, so you won't be afraid

When you think the night has seen your mind

That inside you're twisted and unkind

Let me stand to show that you are blind

Please put down your hands

'Cause I see you

Crowley lessened his grip and eased his body into the angel’s, resting his head against his chest; feeling the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Another nightmare, my darling?” Aziraphale murmured, his voice filled with worry, as he stroked the demon’s hair; letting his thick fingers sift through the wavy locks of amber.

“I cannot get that day out of my head. It’s like...” Crowley began, his own fingers stroking the folds of the angel’s bare stomach. “Like I’m haunted by what could have happened. I’m haunted everyday by what can still happen.” Crowley lifted his head, their eyes met and Aziraphale saw his demon’s raw vulnerability etched upon his exquisite face.

“But it did not happen, we won. Remember? They can’t hurt us anymore.” Aziraphale watched the demon carefully for his reaction.

“Aziraphale, I thought I lost you, lost you to Hell Fire. I cannot bear losing you...you’re all I have.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here, here with you, my love.”

My love. In the year since the End of the World that Wasn’t, they first dared to speak those words in whispers; secrets shared between lovers in a dangerous time. For the danger did seem real and ever present, despite the assurance from Heaven and Hell to the contrary. But words came slowly, protected, guarded. Words that grew bolder as the months passed and the season changed. Words that were exchanged no longer in secret, but out in the open.

“My love would like any other plate of oysters.”

“I love you, my dear, now please can you stop taking pictures of me with your phone!”

“Today, my beloved angel wants cannoli, so I must treat him with cannoli.”

Words that might have gotten them killed by not only their peers, but by humans as well in the years that proceeded. The world that was left after the failed apocalypse had changed, and they were grateful for it, and for the ability to finally speak the words they longed to say.

“I’m afraid of losing you. You don’t know what that fire did to me; how it scorched all hope, all happiness and all my will.” Crowley confessed.

“But I do know that fear; fear of losing the one I love. I felt that fear the day you asked for Holy Water. I felt that fear everyday since I gave you what could destroy you.” Aziraphale said in quiet voice, as if the shame of giving in to the demon’s request still lingered within him.

For a moment, no words were spoken as they both struggled with their ghosts from the past.

Aziraphale hoisted the demon onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around his slender body and held him close.

“I never meant to use it on myself, surely you know that I wouldn’t never have left you willingly.” Crowley whispered into the angel’s ear.

“I had faith you wouldn’t.” Aziraphale traced along the length of the massive scar on the demon’s back; soothing as best he could the eternal ache that caused him continuous pain.

“I’m afraid, my love, I’m afraid that you will get hurt. I would do anything to keep you safe.” The demon pressed his forehead against the angel’s and closed his eyes.

“Our greatest strength is each other, our love is powerful. Crowley, we’ve done the impossible already, and if they come for us, then we will face them, as we did before, hand in hand and side by side.”

“Even if it’s Heaven that comes for us?” Crowley’s voice nearly breaking.

“I would fight all of the angels for you. We’re on our own side, never forget that, my dear.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you.” Aziraphale whispered back. He nuzzled his nose against the demon’s, producing a rare smile. You are my world.

They share a kiss, soft and gentle at first, yet changing to frantic and desperate; the need to feel the other, their desire to fill the space that had dwelled between them for far too long.

Crowley moaned as the angel entered him, filling his body with heat as he thrusts hard, up and down, again and again, finding the rhythm that flows easily between them. Gone were the days of fumbling around in Crowley’s old flat, their nights of awkward love making evolved as they mastered each other’s bodies.

The demon rocked his hips, his body undulating as he takes the angel into him, deeper and deeper. Aziraphale whimpered with each stroke, sinking his fingers into the demon’s neck as he pulls his mouth in again for a kiss, a low grunt escaped his throat as their tongues meet. Their eyes lock as the pace quickened, a frenzied pulse sends the demon over the edge; hot cum spills from him as he cries out a name- his name while the euphoria washed over him, tears slip from his golden eyes; tears of joy, tears of pure love. The demon’s breath labored as their mouths meet again and the angel, so in awe of this magnificent creature, cannot look away.

“You’re so beautiful.” Aziraphale murmured as he effortlessly lifted the demon off their bed and pressed him against the wall. Crowley’s legs wrap around him as the angel resumed his pace; Aziraphale takes his time, pulling out, thrusting deep slowly, patiently until the heat becomes overwhelming. He cums inside his demon, he closed his eyes as the release flows from him, his body quivering from pleasure. He delivered one final kiss as he pulls out, spent and breathless. Aziraphale lowered Crowley so the demon’s feet touch the floor, before whisking him into his arms, grinning as he set his lover back upon their bed.

“Feel better?” The angel said as he brushed a lock of hair from Crowley’s cheek, tucking it lovingly behind his ear.

“Ngk.” The demon sighed as his head fell against the pillows.

“I love you.” Aziraphale curled his body beside the demon’s; resting his head upon his beloved’s chest, performing a quick miracle to clean the mess they made of each other.

“There has never been a moment since we met when I didn’t love you.” Crowley purred as love radiated from him. “There will never be a moment that I won’t love you.”

“Let them try to come for us, they won’t stand a chance.” The angel gives his beloved a quick squeeze, before closing his eyes. Sleep welcomed them both with ease, the lovers intertwined as they rest. The nightmares gone, as the ghosts have been chased away. They slumber through the night, peacefully content and blissfully in love.

The angel was correct, they were stronger together, and their love, special and rare, held within it a power that should be feared by any who would dare to challenge them.

[toloveawarlord]

At Your Service (Ch. 1)

You can find my masterlist in my bio!

My first Ikevamp post! This isn’t even one of the 13 ocs that I talked about before. She’s completely new but is anyone really surprised?

Tagging @plumpblueberry for supporting Ophelia and all her future fun times with the vampires.

This entire series is going to come with a big NSFW warning!

Warnings: Smut toward the end! (It’s Arthot, what else did you expect?)

The door closed firmly in her face by the butler had just barely missed her nose. One minute, maybe not even that long. She had been turned away before getting more than a few sentences out. The master of the house refused to see her, instead sending his attendant to kick her out. Ophelia blinked, hand lingering on the doorknob to the main entrance. Leaving without even being heard left her wounded.

Her qualifications were most impressive. It should have given her the edge, despite the ad specifying a male for the position. All attempts to find a new job had come to a screeching halt. Her previous employer having blacklisted her for wishing to leave him. If she could get someone to listen to her side and give her a solid chance…

“Well, hello there, little bird,” A voice called out to her, approaching from the main gate. The moon illuminated his silhouette in silver light. He strode up to her, seemingly going to walk straight into her.

Ophelia hit the wooden door with her back, golden eyes gazing up at the sparkling blue eyes curiously inspecting her features with a wicked grin. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a switch flickered with danger, yet she could not bring herself to move her legs. The girl completely enthralled in him.

Arthur peered down at her, thoughtfully wondering how long she could last before bolting for the front gate. “You smell utterly delicious, dear maid,” he continued, sliding a gloved finger up her throat to lift her chin higher. “Hair pinned perfectly away, exposing your lovely neck.”

His manner of speaking threw her off guard.

“Are you going to be our new little toy?”

Ophelia found herself gaining back control of her senses at his question. Dejection pouring over her like a cold bucket of water. “No, Monsieur. It seems I am ill qualified to work here. The Master of the house would not even speak directly to me.” If she’d met him, shown him what her capabilities were, then he would have most certainly changed his mind.

“How unfortunate,” He mused, finger still stroking her neck affectionately. Her blood calling to him, though he’d already fed earlier in the evening. Arthur held her captive with his inquisitive gaze, a thrilling idea coming to his lips. “How would you fancy working for me? I would gladly take a personal little maid like yourself. I vow to take very good care of you.”

His offer took a moment to sink in. “Are you making fun of me?” She couldn’t fathom him being the master of the house, so would it be in his realm of power to give her a position like that? Could this man be so cruel as to tug at her soul with those words only to tear it away from her?

Arthur twisted a curl of her black hair between his index finger and thumb, bringing the lock up to his lips to kiss it. “Oh, not at all. It is the sincerest of offers to you, miss maid.” The amount of fun he could have with this one washed him in anxious anticipation. She must say yes. The craving in her golden irises was utterly delectable.

The girl clasped both her hands around his, the lock falling from his grasp. “Yes, please, allow me to take the position. I will do anything that asked of me.”

His lips quirked upward. “That’s what I like to hear.” Carefully lifting her trembling hands up, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles. It would be such a shame not to get a taste of her after how desperately she had been silently begging for it. Her repertoire must have included being a service maid. The clear longing for someone to serve etched deep within her being.

The interior of the mansion nearly took her breath away. Immaculately clean and polished to the brim. Ophelia kept pace just behind him, slightly to the right. “May I ask you a question?” She pipped up, inspecting the grandeur around her.

“Whatever is on your mind, little maid.” Arthur took a key from his breast pocket to unlock his quarters.

Ophelia stood in the open doorway, quizzically inspecting the room that he’d entered. A large enough room that cleaning it would take a least a day from top to bottom. An agenda forming in her head of what she could do to spruce up the space. “What would you like me to call you?” Calling him a general title didn’t feel right to her.

Master and maid was an intimate relationship.

“Ah yes, Arthur is perfectly acceptable,” he answered, taking her hand to lead her in so the door could be firmly shut. It would be quite disappointing if anyone where to interrupt his fun. “And your name?” While nicknames could prove to be effective in earning her loyalty, slipping in her real name at precise moments would be useful.

“Ophelia, Ma��tre Arthur.” The girl gave a slight curtsey yet never broke eye contact.

The sound of her calling him master brought him intense joy. How easily it had fallen from her lips, no hesitation in admitting that she was submitting herself to him. His tongue trailed over his fangs, the thirst for her growing exponentially stronger.

“A fetching name for a lovely bird.” Arthur restrained his intent to devour her for the moment. Playing with his meal made it all the more appetizing. Gesturing a hand out to the stack of papers and books strewn across the room, he gave her the first task. “I’ll be working at my desk, but you can start by replacing these books on the shelf and steadying these papers, yes?”

Her expression lit up with anticipation, eager to start before he’d barely finished speaking. “Of course! I won’t disturb you.” Waiting patiently for him to settle at the large desk, the girl set to work. The books were categorized by author making it a simple job to replace them to their proper spot upon the shelf.

The stacks of papers had drawn her attention. Some crumpled up in the floor, having not quite made it to the trashcan. Ophelia couldn’t stop herself from scanning the top page of the largest stack. Scanning the words hastily written across with elegant script, the name scribbled across the very bottom caught her attention. “Curious,” she muttered.

The name read as Arthur Conan Doyle. A famous novelist from Britain if her memory served her. He’d gained quite the ground in literature, especially the mystery ones with that strange Holmes detective. She’d mused the question before realizing, “Are you a fan of the novelist?”

These were hand written, so could it be that he could be trying to immolate the writer?

“Something to that effect,” Arthur answered, hunched over at the desk. How did she know that? A question that he would pursue at another time. Pushing up his glasses with his index finger, watchful blue eyes were trained on her. He couldn’t break the news in this moment. He couldn’t judge how she would react, and that would put a damper on his plans should she want to leave.

Ophelia had become transfixed on the work in her hands, carefully reading over each word and engrossing herself in the story. Her honest expressions drew him in, the last of Arthur’s self-control fizzling out. Something so delicious innocently awaiting to be caught.

Snatching the paper from her, Arthur reveled in her surprised reaction. “I’m terribly thirsty,” he admitted, hands on her waist to guide her up against the dresser nearest them. With her back to him, the mirror atop would give her a full view of what was to come.

Her stillness with bated breaths only pushed her further into his grasp.

Arthur dipped his head down, tracing his tongue over her exposed neck. He had waited long enough to get a taste. Their eyes met, equally mirroring anticipation for his next move. The girl had yet to pull away, either out of obedience or curiosity.

A soft gasp fell from her lips as his fangs sank down into her tender skin. Her hands gripped the edge of the dresser, steadying her swaying body. Ophelia watched through half lidded eyes. The pain dull, replaced by a warm euphoria spreading over.

With one arm securely around her waist, Arthur licked the blood off the bite marks. “Even sweeter than I imagined.” Worth waiting for after all.

Ophelia blinked slowly, eyes hazed over with a fog of pleasure. Her mind unable to wrap around what had happened to her. In an awkward turn, she twisted in his arms, hands wrapped in the lapels of his jacket. The words couldn’t form in her mouth. Questions stacked upon questions. Instead of any of those, she whispered a plea so soft that Arthur barely heard her. “Do that again.”

The heat that had overtaken her began to fade, and she craved to have it back.

“Again? Needy little bird, aren’t we?” Despite his words, Arthur would gladly take another sip from her. Emotions can fuel the taste of human blood to be sweet or bitter, and the more she wanted it, the sweeter her taste would become.

Her strength waning, she leaned her forehead against his chest. “It’s all very unclear,” she muttered, dazed from the event to the point of nothing making any sense to her. Still, gathering her desire as best she could, Ophelia found a coherent sentence. “If you wish me to be your maid, then proper training is required.” The words hardly felt like her own, coming from a part of her that she was unfamiliar with.

How could he argue? A willing participant handing over their entire being. The temptation too much for him to resist. And how he would enjoy bringing her to the edge of oblivion over and over again. Her days at the mansion would be indefinite.

Easily lifting her to sit atop the dresser, Arthur stripped off his gloves. “A pleaser, I see.”

“Isn’t that my main purpose? Serving a master with delight?”

Lightly chuckling, the novelist didn’t have a counter argument. He pushed her torso back against the mirror, pulling her hips forward to the edge of the dresser. A human so eager to have him play with her. The strange turn of events bringing the vampire the excitement he had been missing. “I suppose.”

A shiver tingled up her body at his touch.

“But in this household, you’ll serve with your entire being.”

Golden eyes locked onto the demanding blue ones, seeking absolute attention.

“Mind.” He lifted her leg to place a delicate kiss on her knee.

“Soul.” Trailing his free hand up her thigh, her skirt crinkled up around her waist, baring her skin.

Arthur traced his fingertips over her warm skin, enjoying the show of the girl unraveling before him. Her palms flat on the dresser, submission to his whims written across her. No attempts to stop the actions. His little bird openly accepting his touch without any hints of fear.

“And especially…body.” Feather light traces of his fingertips across her thigh slid up to the band of her panties. He hooked his index finger under the band, snapping it against her skin, causing her to jump in surprise. “You’ll come to see that we require special services that you aren’t familiar with. But, don’t fret, little one, I’ll patiently and thoroughly teach you each and every detail that you need to know. Until you’re only reacting on pure instinct.”

Ophelia’s breath caught in her throat as Arthur peppered kisses against her inner thigh. Fangs scraping lightly on the skin but not piercing. “Yes.”

“Stay still,” Arthur ordered, spiraling into his own state of bliss. He couldn’t fathom how the girl had been turned away. It would be messy if their secret were to be revealed but with the right amount of attention and training, she could be incredibly useful.

His fangs sank down into the sensitive skin. Blue eyes flickered up to observe her melt into the abyss of sheer pleasure. Her hips wiggled, aching for more.

Ophelia knew what role maid’s played with men like him. They were all the same. Nothing mattered in their world, consequences did not exist. Whether married or single, their wealth placed them above all others. Maids were made to be played with when the whim arose.

Many times, it came with pain and misery, but the girl sought a place to belong.

She craved the attention that serving a household could give her.

Arthur could have drunk every last drop of her, and he believed she might have let him. But where was the fun in that? Gently pushing her knees apart as far as they could go, he placed sloppy kisses up to her clothed core. “Are you still with me, little maid?”

His question returned with a whimper of desperation.

Ophelia could not process any thoughts. Her consciousness under a deep fog of desire, like having a drug coursing through her.

Lapping his tongue over her clit, he chuckled at her impatient whine. Arthur could have held her there for hours, playing with her until she was a quivering mess. “We’ve got plenty of time for that,” He muttered to himself, hooking his index fingers under the band of her panties.

Without any instructions, her hips lifted high enough to allow him to slide them off and toss them somewhere haphazardly behind them.

Arthur stroked three fingers down her slick folds testing her wetness before dipping them into her core. The girl rocked her hips forward searching for more stimulation. “Hold your skirt up. It’s blocking my lovely view.”

Shaky hands crumpled the material within her fists, pulling it up to expose all of her lower body.

“That’s a good girl,” He said, tongue tracing over his lips. Her promise to do anything at all echoed in his mind, feeding so many delicious ideas. Arthur used his free hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, the strands that had slipped out of her clip.

Her cheeks were flushed with crimson red, mouth slightly parted, begging for his lips to touch hers. Golden eyes casting needy desire from under her fluttering lashes.

Arthur leaned forward, close enough to feel her breaths on his lips. “Sing for me, little bird,” he whispered, swiping his thumb across her sensitive clit, bringing a jolt up her body. "Work for it. Make yourself cum on my fingers," he said, curling his fingers within her core with each slow menstruation. Ophelia rocked her hips forward, losing all control of her existence outside of this moment. The dresser creaked under her, matching in time with her gaspy breaths. The closer she came to her release, the sloppier her movements became. "Please-" Her first coherent word since he'd drawn her into a state of need for pleasure. It fell from her lips softly, pleading for his assistance. No matter how much she tried, nothing was enough. "Sing for me, Ophelia," Arthur demanded, picking up the slack in movements by pumping his fingers quickly and rubbing her clit hard with his other hand. Hearing her name for the first time in tandem with his loving voice sent her spiraling. Moans spilled from her mouth, legs trembling as her orgasm overtook her. "Maître Arthur-" over and over she breathlessly muttered his name like a prayer. Arthur chuckled, soaking up the satisfied expression on her features. "I'm going to have so much fun with you." A wicked smirk grew on his lips as she tugged his hand up to her mouth. Ophelia slid her tongue over his wet fingers, tasting her own juices. Her warm mouth sucking tenderly on his digits, eyes focused up on him. She slid her tongue over her lips, swiping the last bit of sweetness into her mouth. "What else can I do for you, Maître Arthur?" "I've got some ideas, little maid." Arthur could keep her all to himself after the night he had planned for her. Although, it would be most entertaining to watch her succumb to the others. A thought for another time. For tonight, he had her entirely to himself.

Another Oc in the books! Next will be Ophelia facing the real master of the house [Insert smirk emoji here]

[amphtaminedreams]

Tommy Hilfiger x Zendaya Inspired Outfits: Lookbook no.6

Hi to anyone reading,

This post is part a Zendaya Maree Stoermer Coleman appreaciation post (yes, we getting back into that 2013 stan twitter lingo of always unnecessarily stating full names) and part me trying my hand at her interpretation of probably my all time favourite decade for fashion inspiration, the 70s. 

As much as I’m in love with her portrayal of Rue Bennett on Euphoria and her and Labrinth’s All for Love and could also probably write a whole post about that alone *deep breath*, I’m here to talk about what originally drew me to Zendaya (aside from her Oscar-worthy performance as Rocky Blue on Shake it Up where she had to act like she and Bella Thorne liked each other) : HER STYLE. Her looks a collaborative effort between her and stylist, Law Roach, I have never once seen any photo of Zendaya where she’s anything less than exquisitely put together, thus it should’ve come as no surprise when she teamed up with Tommy Hilfiger to put on one of the coolest shows of Paris Fashion Week in February this year. 

-ZENDAYA’S BEST STREET STYLE/RED CARPET MOMENTS-

Whilst the collaborations with Tommy Hilfiger haven’t necessarily been the most visually groundbreaking or daring, for me personally they really hit the sweet spot between the bohemian aesthetic and a rock and roll edge, especially in the latest collection. For a celebrity collaboration, the line feels unusually authentic and the clear direction and overall cohesiveness showcases Zendaya’s ability to convey a distinctive mood. Also, it’s WEARABLE. So many of the outfits you see go down the runway only appear to cater to that tall, washed out, willowy type, who are gorgeous too, don’t get me wrong, but...well, they’ve had their time, haven’t they? These are the kinds of clothes everyone can feel beautiful in and that’s so, so important.

-ZENDAYA WEARING THE COLLECTION-

The first collection, debuting in February of this year at Paris Fashion Week, went the disco route and was the best thing Tommy Hilfiger has done in a while. Everything from the set to the models to the music was so fucking FUN and you could tell how much love and passion went into planning the show. I had so many favourite looks:

And I honestly think I might have liked the recent collection even more. With a slightly biker chic element to it, the leather look pieces and the jewell tones, I think this one has a grungier feel to it that the previous collection lacked, in terms of catering to my personal preference, that is; yes, catering to me, random girl on the internet they’ve never met before was definitely Zendaya and Tommy’s intention. Why wouldn’t it be?

Again, it’s not something that’s never been done before but the collection is fresh in a different way, almost like the individual makes the clothes what they are and not vice versa. I doubt any fashion show is so laxly organised as to let the models style themselves backstage but that’s the feeling you get when you’re watching the runway. 

Like I said, this collection is definitely slightly darker and grungier than the first but in a way that it gives me Stevie Nicks joins a biker gang but then decides to leave that behind to become the editor of a fashion magazine vibes (that was a TRIP) and what’s not to like about that? I want all of it, from the waistcoats, to the wide brim hats, to the houndstooth, to the snake print, to the shearling. 

There’s just one problem in that at the time of first seeing the collection I was still in the middle of a self-enforced shopping dry spell, and also, more pressingly, broke af. To be fair, Tommy Hilfiger is one of the more affordable designer brands but still not affordable enough that I can afford to spend over £100 on a bodysuit, ya feel? So instead, I looked through what I already had and used the runway looks from the collection to try and put my own spin on things, incorporating the key shapes, colours, patterns and accessories that make the line, imo, so distinctive.

-KEY FEATURES OF THE TOMMY X ZENDAYA LINES-

1. Flares: If you really want your outfit to give off a 70s vibe, flares are probably the easiest way to do it. Even if you’re not feeling particularly adventurous with prints, plain ones are still super flattering, imo!

2. Wide Brim Hats: Not exactly a hard one for me to incorporate as they're probably my favourite way to tie together an outfit anyway, but the ultra wide brim, witchy-looking ones seen in the second collection are perfect for autumn and winter AND cost-efficient because they can double as part of a low-effort slutty witch Halloween costume. We love a multi-purpose accessory.

3. Psychedelic Prints: More of a staple of the first collaboration but bold, trippy prints are so easy to make into a look. It’s definitely easier to incorporate these kind of prints into your wardrobe in the summer (there’s nothing cuter than a wacky two piece with some subtle jewellery), but if you go for a piece with a richer, deeper colour palette you’ve got yourself a fab Christmas party outfit.

4. Turtlenecks: Showing why the turtleneck has so much style potential, Zendaya’s collections were a masterclass in how to layer. I can’t believe there was a time in my life when I thought turtle necks were the ugliest thing ever. I am ashamed. Though I blame this cursed face-swap image of Monica and Chandler from friends for putting me off:

I also found this haunting image in the process of searching for the one above:

Is this what they mean when they talk about the dark web? Truly scarring.

5. Snake Print: Not gonna lie, the animal print thing has kinda been done to death and I wasn’t super excited about seeing it on the runway but when it’s reworked through a more maximalist lens (ie. the matching snake print coat and trousers) it still works for me. I think they key in keeping it fresh is more luxurious, textured animal print paired with clothing you wouldn’t necessarily expect to see it with. Basically, animal print mini dress? Boring. Animal print flares? I’m down. 

6. Faux Leather: I say faux leather even though unfortunately it’s usually real leather that gets used on the runway (because nothing shows luxury like wearing a dead animal’s skin purely for vanity, right?), but regardless, some of my favourite pieces in both collections were the leather-look coats and blazers. The waistcoat-trouser combination in particular (far left on the bottom row) was probably my favourite look of both collections and though I relentlessly scoured my dad’s wardrobe to see if there was something I could work with to imitate the waistcoat, I came away empty handed:( sad times:(

7. Jewell Tones: The deep maroons of the second Zendaya x Tommy collaboration and the cobalt, emerald green and amethyst splashes in the dresses at the end of the first are, again, perfect Christmas party colours. I know, I know, I keep going on about Christmas parties but any excuse to drink, lol.

8. Scarfs: Skinny scarves with a load of gold jewellery are my favourite things at the moment. But we can’t forget the original style icon who did it first:

I love Emma Roberts and Wild Child is a great movie with a load of amazing style inspo, fuck you Rotten Tomatoes.

9. Heeled Boots: Kind of a basic winter staple anyway but it seems the more cowboy-y, the better. We’re talking about those leather look, mid-calf length boots that seem to be everywhere at the moment. Personally, I’m not quite sure if my legs are anywhere long enough to pull them off, but I do think they’re really cute, and very yeehaw. 

10. Bonus features that I forgot to include in my outfits: High Waisted Things! Waistcoats! Pussy-bow shirts! Spots! Velvet! Suits!

-PSA: Don’t ask me about the peace sign. I was trying to do a 70s thing. I failed. Let me flop at my attempts to be cute in peace.-

So, that’s it! Thank you to anybody that read this far! And if you enjoyed this post and you haven’t done already: GO AND WATCH EUPHORIA. It is honestly the best new show I’ve watched in ages and almost makes up for the overwhelming TV-related disappointment of season 8 of Game of Thrones. I mean, not really. I’m still mildly furious. But then again, D&D got cut from their Star Wars deal AND the Stark prequel was cancelled in favour of a Targaryen one so it seems the balance of nature is finally being restored. Clink clink bitch (es).

Lauren x

[nailbatss]

Habits - Zabdiel de Jesús

Pairing: Zabdiel x Reader

Notes: Hi, before this story begins, I wanted to say thank you to @cieloxcnco for giving me the prompt. I wanted to write to celebrate her 1000+ followers! Congrats, Mami, you deserve it! This is inspired by the song Habits by Tove Lo. If smoking weed make you uncomfortable, please feel free to skip this story. Stay safe everyone!

Word Count: 1,600

Warnings: smoking weed/eating edibles (stay safe children), cursing, mentions of doing illegal activity, other drugs

I spend my days locked in a haze, trying to forget you babe, I fall back down

Fuck feelings. Honestly, who needs to feel anything anymore? Before your heart was broken, all you needed was another reason to revert back to your habits. You needed one more thing to send you over the edge. You were looking for that reason, and he was it.

He promised you that he would never hurt you. He promised you that he wouldn’t leave you. He promised you a lot of things that he didn’t hold his word to. The supposed love of your life promised you were his one and only; he said you were the one he wanted to marry. You believed every word because the promises seemed so real. They seemed so perfect and like he would follow through.

Lies, all of it. They were all lies from the moment they left his lips.

You were clean when you met him. Having just left rehab, and seeing him there, oh it was shocking. Nobody expected a world famous superstar to be in the same facility you were in. He had been addicted to the tour life and everything that came with it. Mainly, they were getting too close for comfort when it came to partying. He was starting to get addicted to the party scene. Of course, he would never admit to it, but he was going to keep that part a secret. By partying, it meant he would get too out of hand with drinking and the drugs. Not major drugs, just a pill or two that you could pop to feel good. Edibles were another drug of choice for him.

Weed, hash, the good stuff, the Devil’s lettuce, the cure all. Whatever you called it. It was your best friend. You were introduced at a party when you were about 15. From that moment, you were hooked. It made you feel really good and you could forget about the world for a while. Sure, you would contemplate life as it existed, but it was the one thing you could rely on. You had some good friends that would smoke with you from time to time, but they weren’t really your friends. You knew they only hung around because you were the one who supplied the stuff. Your dealer was an old friend from school who owed you a few favors. After, he became a regular dealer. One of your so-called friends even. You sat on the back porch with them, the blunt rolled tightly and to perfection. You were a master of your art if you do say so yourself. Holding the little roll felt so natural, the glow of the flame enticing you to take a hit. After taking a drag, you exhaled and watched the smoke dissipate. The feeling of euphoria slowly washed over you as you hummed. You were hooked on the feeling.

That’s the thing, you were clean when you met him. His dark brown eyes captured your attention and made you want to learn more about the mysterious man. It was pretty easy to tell that he was going to be your next addiction. You didn’t know it at the time, but he would soon become your whole world. He made you want to keep chasing him and want to know more.

Needless to say, Zabdiel de Jesús was going to be your everything. You two liked to live fast and in the moment. One night, you two decided to go for a drive, the windows down and the wind was whipping through your hair. The music was playing loudly for you two to sing along to. Your hands were out the window, cheering into the night as it urged you two to join it. Laughter rang through the air and tangos with the music, creating a perfect blend of happiness and enjoyment. There was nothing you wanted more than to spend forever with him.

“(Y/N)?” Zabdiel started to ask you one night. “Yeah?” You replied quietly. “What made you want to get clean?” You two had been dating for almost a year now and he thought to ask when you were both clean. You wanted to talk about it when you were ready. As he mentioned the subject, you started to tense up before relaxing. “I um, I wanted to get clean because I thought that i needed it. The addiction was destroying my family. We were always arguing over if I was going to die because I was going to smoke in a place I shouldn’t. Or they would bring up my aunt, who became an alcoholic because her husband left her…” You became quiet for a moment. “I wanted to start over and become a better person. I was a real asshole to my family.” Zab was quiet before he sent a soft smile your way, placing a gentle kiss to your temple as he did. “Gracias, amor, for telling me.”

You spent the rest of the night talking about life in general. Things were good- no, they were great! You could go to him about anything and he would do the same. You met his friends: Richard, Christopher, Erick, and Joel. They were all great guys, and really attractive, but you wouldn’t be able to have eyes for any of them when Zabdiel had your heart in his hands.

Your first “I love you” came at a rather awkward time. You had come out of the shower and you were dancing to some music that was playing on the radio. He had heard you singing and he was surprised to see that you were in a towel, your hair down and wet as you flipped your hair around. Zabdiel leaned against the door frame and he smiled at you. “Well, good morning to me.” You let out a small squeak as you spun around to face him. “Zab! I didn’t know you were up!” You exclaimed as you blushed harshly. “I love seeing you all natural like this. Gives me another reason why I love you.” That stopped you in your tracks. (Y/N).exe has stopped working. “I-I love you too, Zabdiel.” You were blushing and you smacked him with the hairbrush. “Now get out so I can get dressed!”

Times like that seemed to come so naturally. You were always together and inseparable. When fans found out about you two, (your ship name) was born on twitter that night. Every interviewer in the world had their eyes on you both. They wanted to pry into your relationship to find out how long you knew each other, when you started dating, how you two met, etc. It was irritating, but you two figured out a way around it. Both of you went live on a popular talk show and you answered every question. You told your story about how you met and got clean together. Obviously, the most private part of your relationship remained a secret, such as anything to do with your sexual lives.

“What do you mean that you can’t go on any longer?!” The Puerto Rican man seemed to be ignoring you as he packed his bags, then he turned to you with an angered expression. “You used again.” “No! I didn’t!” “Then what’s this?!” He held up a lighter of yours, an old one. You had kept it in your pocket as a constant reminder. It hadn’t been sparked in forever, but he didn’t know that. As far as he knew, you had lit it up. You weren’t even sure if it had fuel inside of it. “Zab, that’s an old lighter. I haven’t contacted any of my old friends in a long time. I left them behind when we started dating.” You assured him and reached for the lighter. He yanked it away. “No! You’re lying!” There was a tone of paranoia in his voice. The mistrust he felt towards you was seriously hurting you. “Please, I’m not lying. Check my records if you don’t believe me!” “I shouldn’t have to do that! You should have been honest with me. We’re done.”

We’re done. Those two words just ended a whole relationship because he didn’t trust you. He also didn’t give you a chance to explain. No more nights of you running your fingers through his blonde curls, then him exhaling a deep sigh because it felt nice. No more running down the halls while laughing, snapping the wet towel towards his ass. No more stolen kisses before and after his shows when he would perform. No more calling him late at night with random thoughts you would have. No more making fun of the other guys. No more having nights out together. That was all gone now.

You relapsed.

There you sit, a lighter in your right hand as you cup the stick with your left. As you inhale, you think about all the rough times that happened lately, surrounding your breakup with him. You exhale and let go of the past, allowing it to disappear into the night sky forever. The cold brick wall against your back kept you grounded in this reality. There was no such thing as happy endings, or at least you thought so anyway. All you could do now was forget that ever happened. Just pretend the last two years of your life didn’t exist. You were going to move on with your life. You were trying to forget Zabdiel and stay locked in the haze. You weren’t going to come down any time soon.

[welcome-to-lovecraft-country]

The Devil Inside

Author’s Note: This is my first story on Tumblr and I am very nervous about how this will turn out. This story is not around a certain fandom, but my fellow SPN Family will like some of the words I used. This is an original horror story. I also wrote this story two years ago around Halloween. Please enjoy and happy Halloween. xx-Anna

    Waking up in an abandoned house is not a normal occurrence for everyone, but for me, it was normal. Getting up from the cold, dirty, cracked tile floor, dusting off the dirt and dried mud from my clothing and my body, I can still see the dried burgundy-colored blood on my hands and my chipped black nails. My back and arms aching in pain from horrible slumber during the night itself.

 Smoothing over my long, white, blood-splattered dress to get rid of the wrinkles that were on the dress. Realizing that the dress was completely ruined, I tried to figure out how I get out of the building without attracting unwanted attention from the outside world. I try to look out the window to figure out where I am in town, but that was no use. However, the windows are covered by old newspapers.

Fixing my hair, making sure there were no knots, tangles, or pieces of trash on my long, black, wavy hair. I made sure that there were no bruises or injuries on my arms and legs from the night before; then I realized the bruises that covered my collarbone, stomach, arms, and legs. I try to cover the bruises up as much as I can, but there is no use. The color of the bruises is so dark with a darker reddish hue.

As I walk towards the bathroom that had cracked and discolored tiles and various forms of weird, strange bugs and various colors of mold on the walls in there, I feel a presence beside me. I wash my face with the water from the rusting pipes. I look into the dirty, cracked mirror and saw the dark red blood that was all over my face, but I ignore that. I knew that it wasn’t real. I focus on the sound of my heart beating in my chest and keep whispering the phrase “Violent delights have violent ends” over and over to keep me calm. I don’t know why, but it keeps me calm like this.

“Are you afraid, Aurora? You should be very afraid, sweetheart.”

 When I was done, I look deeply into the mirror;  I saw a reflection of myself, but I knew it wasn’t me in the reflection; I knew it in my heart that it wasn’t me. As the mirror started to crack, the girl inside the mirror started doing motions that I wasn’t doing myself. Her skin became almost translucent. I could see the veins underneath her skin. The person’s eyes turned like a snake’s own, the ultimate betrayer and sinner like me.

“I am Lucifer, sweetheart. I thought you knew this about me by now.”

 “See child,” he said as he gave me an evil smirk. “Such a sweet, innocent, pretty little girl you are, Aurora, too bad that you have no soul anymore. This is what happens when you play with me, sweetheart.” I hate that stupid pet name he gave me since we first met; it always made me feel small and worthless compared to him. Someone from heaven can be as evil as someone from hell.

“What do you want from me? I did nothing to you and you know that. Just leave me alone,” I shouted angrily and irritated; tired of this endless cycle of events that has happened every single day for the past ten years, a never-ending cycle of unbearable and neverending nightmares that he did to me. I felt like a slave, a piece of property to him. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just because of one stupid, selfish mistake that my mother made long before I was born. A mistake that will cost her and my dad’s lives and legacy. When I was sixteen years old, my parents had a conversation with me about how I was brought into this cursed, dark world. A few years before I was born, my parents had a hard time trying to conceive a child. 

My mother was thirty-four years old, a high school English teacher and my father was thirty-eight years old, an Assistant District Attorney for the city of Arcadia, California, my hometown, a town that is three hours north outside of Santa Cruz, California. That town, I think, is rotten to its own core even after what happened to my family.  My parents tried every possible solution for them trying to have a child. The doctors told them it would be a miracle. My mother had a solution. 

She knew someone that could do satanic sacrifice to summon Lucifer himself. A witch who could help them make a deal with Lucifer. 

She traded the soul of her firstborn child on their sixteenth birthday. After I was born, he came to visit my parents afterward; his vessel was an old family friend, David Mulder, my dad’s best friend since childhood who had died when he and my dad were seventeen years old when he got in a car accident in high school. He reminded them of the promise they made to him. A promise that they will pay with their own lives.

When my parents told this story to me, I refused that this person could have my soul and my own body anytime that he wanted it. I thought it was some kind of sick joke. My mother explained to me that he could go after me until I give my consent to this promise that she made to him.

 As I grew older, I was more rebellious and courageous than anyone in my family who knew about this deal expected out of me, even though my father thought I was stubborn and stupid for not giving Lucifer the “yes” that he needs. My mother knew that in her heart that I wouldn’t give in to his claim to my soul and my vessel and that I will die because of that. 

“Are you sure your dear, dead mommy told you the truth, sweetheart? Did you really think your father was a good man after all of these years, sweetheart? You have to learn the truth for yourself. Don’t let the people that your father convicted hunt you down like an animal. Did you really think that your parents loved or even cared about you, Aurora? Think again. Learn the truth about who you really are, sweetheart. It will change your whole world forever...”

Every year until my twenty-sixth birthday, he started to kill off every person that I cared the most about in front of me. Boyfriends, friends, family members, and anyone that even tried to help me throughout the years. I thought he was making a point about how stubborn I was and how I lucky I was that he wasn’t going to kill me yet. Every time it happened, I questioned why I am still on this earth. I attempted suicide five times in the past seven years to escape his torture, but he wouldn’t let me die. 

He wants me to have a fate worse than death. He said that he wanted me dead, he would let me. He said that I was a piece of property to him. Every single day for the past ten years, I have woke up in this abandoned building after a night of him possessing my vessel for the night (an unfortunate clause in the deal). Even now, I still have no idea why he still takes pleasure in riding my vessel like some kind of animal that he owns as a pet. I had to deal with the ramifications of what he did every night. 

“Have you ever felt infant’s blood on your chin,” he asked after I woke up one morning, touching my lips and chin with his thumb.“It will feel fantastic on your smooth skin like velvet, sweetheart. It is like euphoria, Aurora, something you have no experiencing in your own life. When I am controlling you, I will make you watch everything that I will do using your identity and body. It won’t be torture. No, I won’t do that to you. It will be a present for you. It will be something that you will like, deep down. I promise you that.” He told me that he went easy on me for our first go-around, at that exact moment, I knew that I thought it could be the end for me. 

I wanted to kill him right there, right now, and just escape from his custody of my body. I have no idea how horrible he really is and scares me so much. Later that day, I read an article about what he did that previous night. 

He killed a small family in the next town over, and I was worried that the police will figure out it was him using my identity the entire time. That feeling keeps me awake at night, thinking about the horrors that he did to those innocent people. So I started to run away. Escaping from the town that I once called home, I have been in every city in every state in the continental 48.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“The exact same thing I wanted since the day I first saw you.” He flashed his snake-like eyes at me. He grabbed me by my throat and pulling my hair to the point of breakage. I could tell that he meant business and he wasn’t playing around anymore.

“I am not going to kill you. I am going to hurt you really, really bad to punish you for being a stubborn, selfish little girl.”

“Your vessel,” he said in my voice, touching my face in a parental way with his surprisingly cold hand (and still holding my hair in the other), “I want to show the entire world who I am and what happens when you lock me in a cage for eons and who I really am. The only thing you have to do is to say yes; otherwise, you are stuck with me for the rest of your puny, pathetic, human life.”

 He transformed out of my identity to make a point about the power that he has over me, then went into another person’s vessel, which I have seen before. 

I know that the man’s name was Nick. He was a married Irish-American man. I had to look up towards him, because of his height.  I always wonder what his family thinks about him: being a vessel of Lucifer then being a husband and father. Nick was the man who told Lucifer “yes” before me. Nick was a man of honor, not anymore. His wife and child died in childbirth, which led Nick to a deep depression and alcoholism that no human could get out of alive and perfectly sane. 

 Lucifer used him as a way to appeal to my own empathy and compassion--he saw it as my own weakness. Sometimes, I would talk to Nick, when Lucifer doesn’t need him.  He always seems like a kind soul. Then, I fell in love with Nick. He always has this personality that any woman would swoon over. He was always the person was there and who understand me for me.

 For some apparent reason, Lucifer always seems to write something on the wall when he possesses Nick. I don’t know what it is, but I know it could mean something about the fate of Nick and me both.

“Nick, you are such a pathetic man. Why did you have to say yes to me? You would be happier with your bottle of whiskey. Is it because I showed you your potential future with your recently deceased wife and child? You fell in love with this girl who looks a lot similar to your wife. Wow, you have a type here, buddy. I hope that you don’t lose this one. Too late for that one.” He turns his head towards me; I feel bad for Nick. He never wanted any of this. 

Now, Lucifer is using him as a pawn in his little game. All I was that I won’t make it out of this alive, not like this anymore. Lucifer twirls his fingers like he thinking of something, which makes him dangerous and very unpredictable.

“Love can make you humans act and do things very strangely. You can kill, die, or hurt someone else to find love itself. Why did my father create you puny, little things anyway? You, humans, worship false idols that don’t protect you from harm. It distracts you from what is really going on in this world. Corruption, lies, murder, adultery. I even want to put you out of your misery. They do nothing but hurt or even disappoint you all. My father created you humans to live and grow, but you do this to disrespect us? I am going to make you feel my wrath for all eternity.”

He led me to the chairs in the middle of the room and told me to sit. We both sat down in the chairs. He sat up in the chair.  That moves his body closer to mine. I was scared about what he was going to do to me. 

I look into Nick’s eyes to let him know to treat me as an equal to him, but I know he can overpower me without any effort. I kept focusing on the sound of my heart beating in my chest to keep me calm, even though the rest of my body wants to eject itself out of mercy. 

“What is wrong, sweetheart? I thought you would like me like this.” He laughs in my face, making this situation feel like some kind of sick joke. It makes me sick. I had feelings for him in ways that I have never felt before. Nick was someone that I still do care about.

“I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this, you know that. Just leave me alone!” I walked away from until a presence draws me back, eye to eye.

“You wanted this. All of this! Everything I have done is for you. To impress you; inspire you to be like me. Deep down, you wanted this; all of this!”

“You are insane! I never wanted this. Any of this. You killed my parents to impress me?! I can’t do this anymore. The deal is off.” I tried to leave the room, but he stops me in my tracks by holding me by my arm, pulling me closer to him so he can whisper in my ear. His grip was getting tighter by the second.

“I didn’t kill them, Aurora. You did.” All of my attempts to not make any aggressive actions towards him went horribly awry. He comes towards me like he was trying to comfort me.  Instead, I punched him square in the nose. As he went down to the ground, the blood starts dripping from his nose. I wanted to give up right there, but there was a part of me that wanted to keep fighting against him to make sure that he will never hurt me ever again. 

Instead, I started to cry; my entire body broke down into something that I never experienced in my life. I felt like I was going to give up and give my life away from me. 

“There is a darkness inside you. Something that we can both relate to, sweetheart. It doesn’t make us bad people. It makes us special. It makes us unique, strange even.”

 I want to die right now, but I can’t. He holds my face in his hands holding on to me for dear life. I wanted to kill him right there and right now, but at the same time, I wanted to kiss him passionately. I know that it wasn't lusting, it was love.

No, I love Nick. Not this monster, I thought.

 It feels like I am going back to him every single day like a dog coming back to its owner. Love and hatred for one man; I don’t believe that anyone understands the pain and agony I have been through. It felt like I was in an abusive relationship or even I have Stockholm syndrome.

“Stop playing the innocent victim, Aurora! You and I both know that is not you. After all this time, I think you secretly enjoy our fun times together. Recently, you stopped having control of your own body. Let me have the reins, Aurora, I will promise you that I will do everything in my power to bring back your parents. This secret will just be between both of us; they won’t even know about our deal. You live the life that you deserve. I promise you that. Just say yes.”

“Yes,” I said in total surrender. I had nothing else to do besides sit there and do nothing about my fate, which would happen anyway.  I gave in after ten years of torture and humiliation that he put me through just because I didn’t give in to his demands. Maybe I was selfish and stubborn. I didn’t want any more innocent people to die, just because I said no to him again and again.

 I just wanted it to be over for once and for all. He leaned in and gave me a kiss to seal the deal that I committed to. I felt I made a choice that I couldn’t get out of, but at the same time, I felt I made the right choice. 

Suddenly, I felt a bright light going through the room surrounding us. A state of euphoria and freedom, as he said when talking about what it would feel like for him to be possessing me. It feels amazing.

What is happening to me? 

Now, I feel surprisingly calm about this, but I can’t be. I should be freaking out, telling him to get out of my body. However, I feel like I had a force inside me, controlling what I say and what I do and I can’t do anything about it. An anxiety attack starts creeping in, but suddenly, it stops like it never happened in the first place. I have no idea how I did that. I feel calm, but I don’t at the same time. I am terrified for my life right now.

“Calm down, Aurora. You are making the right decision about this.”

 I know I made the right decision because I know that I feel like I made the wrong choice as evil sets in. I feel stronger than I have ever felt before, and I don’t feel like an innocent victim anymore. 

“It is the exact same thing I have been feeling for eons.  Now, you get to feel my power. You and I will get to take over the world, sweetheart. We will be partners in crime, like, always, Aurora. It will be us together forever.”

Now, I have the devil inside me and he is going to run rampant using my body and my identity as a vessel for his horrendous and vicious games that he is going bring into humanity. 

Nick, I’m so sorry. I love you.

I’m sorry that I could not stop it. I had no other choice. He won’t stop until everyone will be punished, even me. Humanity will be destroyed forever, and there is nothing that any of us can do about it.

 Goodbye, cruel world. 

Goodbye, forever.

“Too bad. She told her story so many times to people like you. Pathetic, puny humans. You do not know the complexity of this story and its costs.  Now, it is my turn to tell the actual, true story now. This is going to be so much fun. Now, where would we start?”

“Why did you make her here again?” asked Nick.

“It is so simple. Don’t you see it? I want you to at least see her again before you die.”

[nojammsss03]

Jaemin x (f) reader smut

Warning: Tears, false accusations, Arguing, force, bondage and sexual content ahead

Word count: 1000+

A/N: this was requested on my Wattpad for my NCT smuts and imagines book off there. So if you want to check that out my username is J1$ungPw4rk. Anyway I hope you enjoy this.

Plot: (ACTUAL REQUEST MESSAGE) (Y/N) and Jaemin are dating but he thinks she is cheating on him due to a rumor of her and Felix of stray kids are dating. (She is an Kpop idol as well and their relationship is kept a secret). He gets mad and she gets so upset that she says they might as well break up. Jaemin gets mad and upset and has rough sex with her.

A/N: I do not Stan Stray Kids so if I get Felix’s personality wrong please don’t bash me for it.

I really hope you enjoy this! Sorry if it’s not exactly how you wanted it Carrys

I finished dance practice with my fellow band members. “Okay girls good job today, your comeback “Love Like Chocolate” album will be a hit! You are all dismissed to your dorms” Manager Unnie says to us. We nod and walk to our dorm of the JYP building.

Once we get to the dorm I go to my room that I share with Songji Unnie. I grab some clothes from my dresser and go to the shower.

Time skip to after shower

I get dried off and dressed. I walk out to the living room. “Sungsoo Unnie!” I call out for our oldest member/ leader.

Her head pops out of the kitchen. “Ne (Y/N)-ah?” She asks as another member Eunmin Unnie tackles her to the ground.

“Can I go to the SMTown building to see Jaemin Oppa?” I ask with my puppy dog eyes but the Unnies call them my Maknae eyes.

“Aw (Y/N)-ah is so cute!” Songji Unnie yells as she tries to get Eunmin off of Sungsoo. “Let her go see her Oppa! She hasn’t seen him in almost 2 weeks due to schedules and the scandal that everyone thinks her and Felix are together” Songji says to Sungsoo.

“Ne (Y/N)-ah go ahead. Just remember to wear your mask and hat to keep reporters from knowing it’s you!” Sungwoon yells.

I nod and Bow to my Unnies. “Thank you Unnie I’ll be back before company curfew” I say before running to get my keys, wallet, mask and hat.

Once I have everything I run out the door and to the elevator. Felix was in the elevator.

“Hi (Y/N)-ah! Where are you headed?” Felix asks.

“Oh I’m headed to SM to see Jaemin Oppa” I say.

“Cool! Hey I’m really sorry about the scandal going on about us. I hope Jaemin isn’t getting mad. You know I see you as a dongseng” he apologizes.

I bow. “Thank you Felix. I’m sorry too. I think of you as an Oppa also but not like Jaemin Oppa. Cause Jaemin Oppa is my boyfriend and your just a friend that’s like family and...” I start over explaining myself.

“(Y/N)-ah your doing it again! I understand what you mean” he reassured me.

I bow again. “Sorry about that I need to work in my over explaining” I say and he nods.

The elevator dings and I put my mask and hat on before walking out of the building. “Bye Felix” I say and wave.

Skip to SM Building

I get to the dorm part of SM and I knock on the DREAMIES door. Chenle opens the door and screeches like the dolphin he is.

“JAEMIN HYUNG NOONA IS HERE!!!” He yells and Jaemin pops his head out from the kitchen with a half eaten pack of M&M’s in his hand.

He sees me and grabs my hand dragging me back to his room. He slams the door behind me.

“Oppa what’s wrong?” I ask slightly scared. He glares and points to his bed for me to sit down.

“Do you have any idea how much effort I have put into this relationship (Y/N)?” I nod.

“Yes, why would you think I didn’t. I know you have sacrificed a lot over the past year and a half. I’ve always known” I state.

“Then why are you throwing it all away for Felix? Is he hotter than me? Does he have a better personality? Does he have more money? Your sleeping with him aren’t you is he better in bed than i am?” Jaemin shouts. I flinch because I’m not used to him yelling at me.

“Oppa, the rumors aren’t real. Felix and I are just friends. He’s like a brother. Your my one and only. You know that. I don’t love anyone else!” I shout tears pricking my eyes.

“I don’t believe you. I’ve seen you the way he looks at you. I’m not stupid (Y/N)!” Jaemin shouts.

“Na Jaemin I would never do that to you and especially not with him. He’s not the one I want. The only man I want in my life is you!” I shout.

“Then why are you cheating on me?!” Jaemin yells furiously.

“I’m not!”

“Then how do you explain this?” He shouts holding a picture of Felix and I walking at an awards ceremony for JYP artists.

“Because we were nominated for the same award so we stood by each other!” I shout.

“Sure... you know what (Y/N) this shouldn’t be tolerated”

“Then why don’t we just break up sense you don’t trust me!” I shout tears running down my cheeks. I stand up and walk out to the living room of the dorm.

Jaemin grabs my hand and drags me back to his room again. He slams and locks the door.

“No because I’m going to show you how much better I am than him” Jaemin says in a deep voice.

I’ve never seen this side of Jaemin before and it’s making me drip.

Jaemin pins me to the bed. He sucks on my neck finding my sweet spot quickly. He lifts my hoodie up exposing my flat stomach.

He pulls his lips away and practically rips my hoodie off of my body. He then pulls down my jeans and panties leaving me in only my bra which it soon gone as well.

Jaemin goes down and rubs my clit.

“Hmmm. Wet already? Your enjoying this? Guess I’ll just have to make it a punishment” he grins. He then goes to his drawer and pulls out one of his ties.

“I don’t have any rope in here so this will do” he says tying my hands together and above my head to the head board.

He goes back to my clit and slowly rubs it. I though my head back moaning from the stimulation. He smirks and lowers his head to my pussy. He lays his tongue flat on my pussy giving it a long slow lick.

“Ugh J-Jaemin” I yell out as he continues to lick slowly. He continues to rub my clit as he licks me. He then pulls away and I let out a whine of disappointment.

I look up to see him stripping himself of his clothes. First with his shirt exposing his abs that you could was clothes off of, then to his pants, socks. He is then only left in his boxers. He stares at me intensely as he rubs himself through the material. He then pulls his boxers down and throws them elsewhere letting his hard member hit his stomach.

Jaemin climbs on the bed once more and comes up to my face kissing me roughly. I moan into the kiss. He pulls away and strokes himself lightly before entering my pussy without a warning. I practically scream in pleasure.

He begins thrusting hard and fast. “Ugh Jaemin” I scream out. He speeds up. “Jaemin Oppa I’m gonna cum” I scream and he pulls out. I look at him disappointed.

He smirked at me as he leans closer to my ear and whispered. “You have to learn (Y/N). What is better to learn than by a little fun” he says devilishly.

He then starts to stroke him self moaning my name making me more anxious. I squirm trying to get my hands untied. He sees my struggles and grins. He then puts the tip back in my entrance to tease me. I start moving my hips to get friction but he holds them down making me unable to move.

He then slams in at an incredible pace making me see stars. My head flys back and my back arches in pleasure screaming out his name as he pounds into me. He throws his head back moaning my name.

I feel my muscles contract around his member signaling that I’m about to reach the edge. I feel the knot in my stomach tightening with every powerful thrust he makes.

“Jaemin please I’m about to c..” before I could finish my sentence he slams harder and faster hitting my g-spot perfect sending me into euphoria. My entire body shakes from the sensation. I feel his member twitch inside of me before be pulls out releasing his high onto my stomach and chest.

He then collapses next to me breathing heavily. I look over watching the rise and fall of his well toned chest. He reaches up and unties my hands, then gets up and goes to the bathroom bringing back a damp wash cloth to clean me up.

“I’m sorry” I say.

“For what?” He asks.

“For letting you ever think that I would betray you like that. I honestly didn’t do it. Felix is just a friend from JYP the only relationship I have with him is a friendship and honesty I think he likes Eunmin Unnie” I say.

Jaemin nods, “Your forgiven, and I’m sorry for doubting your loyalty to me. I just got scared when it was all over the media and I was worried that you might end up falling for him and leaving me”.

“Awe Oppa, I would never do that. Your my one and only!” I say giving him a kiss.

“I love you (Y/N)-ah!” Jaemin says smiling into the kiss.

“I love you too Oppa” I smile before we both fall asleep.

[miss-noo-na]

“Consumed” (Taeyong Vampire AU)

Title: Consumed

Featuring: Taeyong (NCT) x Reader

Rating: Somewhat mature. Sexual themes and blood drinking

Summary: You’ve been longing to experience the bite of a vampire, and you’ve found just the person to give it to you.

Requested by Anon!

You don’t know how you ended up here. You could retrace the steps, from your burgeoning curiosity, to your research, to seeking out the establishment, to actually putting on the red dress and showing up. You’d never know how you got the courage to actually do it, though.

You knew vampires existed, most people did, but they were often spoken of in hushed voices, and seeing one was a rare occurrence. They kept to themselves, seen only in places they were accepted or created themselves, and only interacted with mortals who had the open mind and strong stomachs to do so.

You had longed to be a part of this inner world, to dwell in the darkness and get to know the beasts of night. The thought alone excited you, and now you had your chance.

The club was nothing like a club, actually. There was no thumping techno beat, no obnoxious fratbros in heavy cologne, and no skimpy bartenders. Instead it was a secret door into an old building, up an industrial lift, into a large windowless room with hanging fabric, moody lighting, velvet couches, and lounge music.

You immediately felt self-conscious among the beautiful denizens of the club, in their slinky gowns and suits, eyeing you curiously. They knew a stranger when they saw one, and even though there was no menace in their stare, you felt your skin get hot with their gaze and you trekked your way to the bar for a glass of wine.

You couldn’t really tell who was human and who was vampiric, though you could make an educated guess. Then bartender smiled at you as he placed down your glass, and the glint on his fangs felt like a shot through the heart. It was all real. It was all happening.

A woman approached you, and you knew this was the woman you had spoken to online. She specialized in being something of a chaperone, vetting humans and if passing her process, safely guiding you into their world. Despite her chilly appearance, a sharp gaze and black hair, you felt a warmth radiate off her as her lips curled into a subtle smile.

“You made it.”

“I did.”

You awkwardly sipped your wine.

“Are you nervous?”

You couldn’t lie, it was written all over your face.

“A bit.”

“It’s natural. I’m glad you came.”

You gulped. “Really?” You asked, figuring she must get sick of dealing with all the nosy mortals wanting to get a peak at her lifestyle.

“I talk to a lot of people, and more than half of them don’t get this far. The ones that do, half of those chicken out. Also, I quite liked you. You’re just the kind of mortal we like around here.”

You blushed, averting your eyes. You don’t know what it was about you she liked, but you would take the compliment.

“Do you want to meet him now?”

You almost choked on your drink. “N-now?”

“It’s what you came here for, right?” She smirked, and you nodded. “I guess it is.”

See, you hadn’t just wanted to be around the vampires. Hadn’t just wanted to talk to them, get to know them, you had wanted to give yourself to them.

You’d read stories about the bite of a vampire, the euphoria, the rush of physical and mental pleasure. You poured over forum posts of people’s personal experiences, and the way they described it seemed like heaven. You wanted some of that for yourself.

If anyone knew they’d think you were crazy, offering yourself up like this. You didn’t even know this guy, but these arrangements had been made before and from what you’d seen and heard it was legitimate. No one was going to pressure you, but if you were okay with it, it would happen.

The man could be anyone, you thought as she began to guide you toward a back area of the club. Despite being vouched for, what if he was a creep? What if he gave you bad vibes? Then you could leave, of course, but what an embarrassing disappointment that would be, going through all this just to go home at the end of the night unfulfilled.

She pushed back a curtain into a makeshift room with a large red velvet sofa and some patrons inside. At the center of it all sat a man, lithe-framed and in a dark gray suit with the defined face of a model. When he looked up at you, his mouth twitched into a half-smile and felt all the air leave your lungs. 

The woman introduced you, and you stood there uneasily, not sure what to do with your hands. You just barely heard the woman say his name.

“Taeyong.”

The other patrons knew what this was, and has filtered out of the room as soon as they saw the woman entering. He gestured for you to sit, and once you did, the woman left you alone.

You took a long drink of your wine before setting it down on the table in front of you, placing your hands on your knees and looking around, hoping the alcohol would calm your nerves. You were secluded, the strips of red fabric almost creating a tent. You glanced in his direction now and again and it was almost painful to look at him, you’d never seen a man so beautiful.

It didn’t help that he kept his eyes trained on you, swirling a crystal glass around in one hand, examining you carefully.

“What brings you here?” He finally spoke.

“Oh, you know,” You said, shrugging on instinct.

“I don’t.” He said, and he smiled a bit like he was suppressing a laugh. You really hoped he wasn’t making fun of you.

You gulped down another ounce of liquid courage before you spoke again. “Curiosity,” was the word that came out, simple and clear.

“That’s fair. What makes you curious?”

His eyes were so intent, you felt exposed, and yet more and more at ease since he seemed genuinely engaged.

“I’ve read some…things. I wanted to experience it for myself.”

When he smirked, he made an “hm” sound, putting his glass down and leaning forward.

“What do you think you’re going to feel?”

Your breath got a little shallow, thinking back to all the descriptive text you’d consumed in preparation for this moment, the idea of him being the one to give you that caused a rush of new feelings. You didn’t know him, but he was compelling, the way he spoke and handled himself, his features, everything about him.

“In theory,” You cleared your throat, “I suppose I would feel …pleasure.”

You were getting bashful speaking it out loud, and he could tell. Despite this, he moved a little closer.

“I could give you that.”

Your hands started to shake a bit as he was now close enough to feel his breath.

“Only if you want me to, of course.”

You found yourself wordlessly nodding, and he let out a chuckle.

“I can see why she brought you to me.” He said then, taking you out of your nerves for a moment as you questioned him with your eyes, brow drawing down.

He reached up and lightly touched the edge of your jaw, bringing your face up to  level with his.

“You’re so pretty and willing, my favorite.”

With that, he leaned in and kissed you. At first your eyes widened on contact, then fluttered closed as you melted into the feel of his lips on yours. Your stomach did somersaults every time he nipped at your lips or deepened the kiss, and you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this.

When he pulled back, he tilted your chin up slowly, then angled your head to the side. You didn’t understand at first, until you felt his other hand pushing your hair away from your neck.

“Are you ready?”

He stroked his thumb over your throat and felt you swallow.

“Yes.”

It started with a kiss to the open expanse of your neck, and a shiver shot straight down your spine. He felt it, and his lips curled up against your skin. He opened his mouth and you felt the hot moisture lather over your pulse and your eyes fell shut, bracing for something you weren’t sure of yet. First his teeth grazed, barely noticeable, then the edges of his fangs pressed against your skin and you were starting to think this slow pace and the anticipation was going to kill you.

But then it happened, they sank in with a swift motion and indiscernible wet sound. You gasped, eyes shooting back open, and you could feel panic welling up inside you. You wanted to scream but you felt paralyzed, prey caught in the jowls of your predator.

Yet, something else started to happen. It washed over you like baptism, bathing you from your head to your toes in warmth that buzzed along all your nerve endings, and relaxed every muscle as it did so. The heat moved up under your clothes and a familiar sensation was building, but you couldn’t believe it. How was he making you feel this way fully clothed? Not touching you except for his fangs deep in your vein? You reached up and grabbed onto his shoulder and he only moved into you more, pulling you against his mouth and sucking. You could feel the flow of blood coursing through your body and exiting out of the wound to be consumed by him, and every pulse thumped through you and pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Finally you couldn’t help it, you cried out and shuddered,  and the hand not steadying your head wrapped around you so he could hold your shaking body. After the feeling peaked, you felt the sensation of falling, and you were glad he held onto you. He detached from your neck carefully, and licked over the wound for good measure.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered in your ear and another small shudder went through you, a whimper leaving your lips as you were now spent, not even sure what it was you experienced.

You swayed as he loosened his grip on you, but still held on until you were steady. Your eyes tried to open but your eyelids felt heavy.  You were able to get a good look at him, through the dim lighting in the room, and everything was kind of wavy and dreamy.

He stroked your cheek and watched you, making sure you were alright,  smiling knowingly.

“Was it everything you wanted?’ He asked

“More than that.”

“Oh no, darling.” He said, shaking his head. “I can give you much more.”

[maevesdarling]

Strange encounters

This is something I wrote for @9mm-god after I got inspired by our discord Chat, but of course everyone can enjoy it. Warning for the mention of smut towards the end. 

This is mostly pre-series but also slightly AU, in which Logan met Hector, something I would have loved to see in the Show.

Pairing: Logan Delos/ Hector Escaton Words: 1,210

He had played through every single story Westworld currently had to offer, and it was starting to get a bit boring. Sure, messing with the hosts was fun but there was something about exploring unknown territories, getting into a fight with a host he had never seen before or flirting with the cute shop clerk in Sweetwater that made his blood rush with adrenaline.

It’s what he liked most about this place, that and the part where he basically couldn’t get hurt and everyone wanted to get into his pants.

So naturally, when Delos announced a new storyline he was beyond exited. Logan was never the type to visit a board meeting, they were too long and too boring he lost interest a few minutes in and couldn’t focus on whatever those old people were saying, and he also never visited any of the many HQ’s departments to watch the magic happen. So the first time he met the small group of new hosts was on the day their storyline premiered.

They had been placed in a spacious room inside the HQ, a buffet stood on the other end of the room and most guests were busy filling their stomach instead of checking out the new hosts.

A bunch of outlaws, nothing too big or too fancy, they didn’t tied into a bigger storyline, in fact most of these poor souls didn’t had much of a character to start with. They were simply cannon fodder, a warm body to keep some lonely guests company at night, something the guest could shoot at and feel like they just did the town a huge favour in getting rid of the dangerous bandits. At least that’s what the board announced while he walked through the line of new hosts, eyeing them with a bored expression, they wouldn’t be much of a challenge, he thought. Until his eyes met those of the group’s leader.

Hector Escaton was tall and handsome, dressed in dark clothes that fitted his muscular body well; his look reminded Logan off himself. He huffed at that thought. A scar cut all the way from above his eye, down to his cheek and his dark eyes seemed to follow every single one of Logan’s movement. That’s impossible, Logan thought, the host was clearly in stand-by mood, the board wouldn’t want the guests to mess with their newest hosts already. After all they had to play their roles tomorrow morning.  

To his own surprise, he spend the night on his own for once, in a crappy hotel in Sweetwater. After seeing Escaton and his group, the thought of inviting a bunch of girls from the Mariposa had suddenly lost its appeal to him. Instead he went to bed thinking of a pair of dark eyes that watched him sleeping. Logan smiled. Tomorrow was going to be fun.

***

As soon as the sun rose, he was up and roaming the wilderness just outside of Sweetwater. It was easier than expected to find Hector and his bunch of outlaws. But then again, he already knew where to look for them.

They had their makeshift camp surrounded by a couple of trees, it made them almost invisible to see from outside, but it also made it easier for Logan to get into the camp without being spotted. He smiled as he stepped out of his hiding spot, drawing his gun. The four men that weren’t Hector died in the blink of an eye, they hadn’t even had the time to put up a proper fight. Pity, he thought, stepping over the bodies.

Hector had his gun drawn but did not shoot. He watched him almost lazily. He withstood Logan’s intense gaze. Much like the first time he had seen him, except this time he was very much aware of the situation. “Hector Escaton, I was looking for you all morning.” Hector leaned back, seemingly not impressed and took a sip from his flask. “I figured, since I`m still alive, and my friends here.” He motioned over to the dead bodies. ��aren’t.”

Logan’s smile widened. He already liked this man. “Do I know you?” The human shook his head. “I’m just a wanderer, but one that took a special interest in you. I couldn’t get you out of my head since I saw you at the premier yesterday.” Hector looked a bit dumbfounded at that. Surely he understood none of what Logan was saying. “I dreamed of this, but damn you’re even prettier in action.”

“What exactly is it that you want?” Hector started to grow a bit impatient with the stranger. “Logan, you can call me Logan, and I don’t demand a lot. I’m a simple man who was looking for a challenge. Finding you was...easier than expected, but a challenge nevertheless. All I want is a reward.” His stomach coiled in anticipation. How was Hector going to react?

“What can I give you as a reward?” He pulled out his empty pockets. “I don’t have any money and the whiskey is running low I fear-“

“All I want is a single kiss from you.” Hector licked his lips unconsciously at that. Gotcha, Logan thought winningly. “That’s all you want, Logan?” Damn his name sounded sexy on the man’s tongue. He started to walk over towards the outlaw, like a predator stalking its prey. “So you agree?” The dark haired man leaned forward, already expecting him. “I can hardly say no to such a handsome face, can I?” And with that he crossed the last few centimetres to crash their lips together in a passionate kiss, his teeth scrapped against Logan’s lips, the human felt a wave of euphoria wash over him. I did it! He thought winningly to himself while grabbing Hector by the jacket to pull him closer.

When they pulled apart, he couldn’t help but laugh, almost manically. “You, Hector Escaton, are a fucking masterpiece.” He cradled a hand through the outlaw’s hair. “Forget all those stupid cunts in Sweetwater, I think I just found my new favourite storyline in the entire park.” Hector didn’t respond, his coding probably made it impossible to even come up with anything. That’s what he was, a robot with a coded personality. Logan knew he wasn’t real, but damn did it felt real when Hector pulled him in for another kiss.

When he unbuttoned his shirt to touch his heated skin, and it felt just as real when they clashed against each other in a mess of lips and hands and tangled limbs and soon Logan was completely undressed and shivering slightly against the cold air as he lay flat on the ground, his eyes shut and moaning against Hector’s shoulder as he pounded into him.

And it felt real when they fell on top of each other afterwards, Hector stroking a hand through Logan’s messy hair almost in affection.

They fell asleep afterwards, still tangled in a thin blanket Hector had pulled out of his saddle bag.

The next morning, Logan rose in semi darkness, redressed and got up to leave. A tired hum made him turn. Hector was startling awake slowly, tired eyes watching him. Logan pulled his hat and nodded. The outlaw gave him a crocked smile. “I see you around, Hector.”

[mazecraft]

Rachel in the Dark Room Ep 6

Image credit: simpletextadventure/tumblr

Warning:

Spoilers for Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.

Trigger Warning:

This fanfic will have disturbing images, including scenes of kidnapping, date rape, drug use, violence, sexual content and adult language. Recommended for mature audiences and viewer discretion is advised.

The moment Doe put her gentle hands on Rachel’s face, her consciousness was flooded with thoughts, feelings, images, and sounds. Rachel didn’t just see. She saw and felt everything...

∞

Sera was on a nod in some shithole, Sacramento. The apartment she was staying at for a few days was rented out by a friend of her dealer. But she’d never met him. Other people had been coming and going until she wasn’t sure who actually lived there. At the moment the couch was taken by a man fucking some girl that was way too young to be there. So, Sera sat in the corner smoking a cigarette thinking about the daughter she never got to know. All that she wanted was to see her and explain. She had tried so hard. It was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life, and it was forcibly taken from her. Her eye twitched at the memory. It was too late now. She had known that when she left Arcadia Bay. Some people don’t get second chances. Now all she had was a few brief memories of the daughter she never got to know, stolen moments followed by terror where she least expected to find it. She grabbed the syringe off the carpet and found a fresh spot on her arm to inject herself. It was a mighty dose. But she could handle amounts that would kill most people. Even a year clean had not lowered her tolerance very much, as that prick that tried to OD her never got to find out. She smiled and leaned her head back as the euphoria swept her away. Her body died while she dreamed of being the kind of person that would have been there for Rachel no matter what.

∞

Rachel watched her mother’s light fade. It had been a warm light, diffused as it was. While she watched Rachel had become aware of her own light around herself. Like the aura of a bright candle in a darkened room. She held her hand up and stared at her skin in wonder. She had never seen it before, but somehow she thought she had always known it was there like a presence seen just out of the corner of her eye. Doe had just touched her forehead and began to trace a tight circle…

∞

James Amber hung his dry-cleaned suit in the walk-in closet. He changed into a polo shirt and casual slacks. He pointedly refused to look at the empty side of the closet before he turned and walked out of the room. He walked down the hallway past closed doors that he also chose to ignore and descended the stairs. His phone vibrated in his hand and he looked at the message.

I’m here.

He walked to the front door, a silhouette visible through the stained glass. He opened the door and Rose stood on the other side. She was wearing a black pantsuit with a mauve blouse and her purse hitched on her shoulder which she held with one hand tightly about the strap. James held the door open and invited her in, but she said curtly that she wasn’t staying long. He crossed his arms and waited expectantly.

“I just came by to tell you that Blackwell called and Rachel hasn’t been in school all of last week, and she hasn’t been back to her dorm,” Rose said. The corners of her mouth were drawn down and her eyes had dark circles under them. “Ray says that if she doesn’t show up by the end of next week, they are going to have to put her on Academic Dismissal pending expulsion.”

“So why are you telling me? You’re the one that she talks to now when she needs money or a parental consent form from school. I certainly haven’t seen her,” James said bitterly. “In a few months she won’t even need our consent and then I am sure you will only hear from her when she wants something.”

“And whose fault is that, James?” Rose said pointing a finger at his chest. “She may know I am not her real mother now but I still raised her. And I may have kept your secret from her, but you’re the one that did the most damage!”

“If you think I am going to stand here at my own doorstep and listen to this bullshit again…”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” Rose interrupted him. Tears welled up in her eyes and her voice became choked with emotion. “James. I think she is missing. No one has seen her this week. Chloe called me a few days ago and said she hasn’t seen her either. Something’s wrong.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” James threw his hands up. “She is taking after her mother more and more with each passing week. How long has she been talking about running away? You can blame me until you are blue in the face but we both know that cutting us out of her life was just the first step in her plan to leave forever. You think I am taking this any easier than you are? She is my daughter! And I know her well enough to know that when she decides she wants something it is only a matter of time before she gets it.”

“How dare you! Do you really think that you somehow know her better than I do? I’ve been her mother since she was three years old, James! Even Principal Wells thinks we should file a police report. But I can’t do it on my own. You have to come down to the station with me.”

“That is a waste of taxpayer dollars and ABPD resources! If the police find her at all I’ll bet you ten to one she is just holed up somewhere with the degenerates I tried to keep her from falling in with. Between this and the police report on Rachel being involved with drugs on campus, I will be lucky if I get to finish my term as DA, much less get reelected!”

“There it is!” Rose said. “You talk until you are ‘blue in the face’ about how much you love Rachel but when you have to choose between her and your fucking career you prove how much of a hypocrite you really are! If you won’t come with me than I will go by myself and you can go to hell!” She stomped off down the driveway toward her car she left parked at the curb.

“Rose!” James called after her. She paused with her keys in her shaking hand, sobbing. “Rose, wait. Just wait a minute. Let me get my coat.”

It would take a few months of no leads, but eventually, even Rose would acquiesce that Rachel must have simply run away.

∞

Rachel watched her father and stepmom flicker like a candle in a draft. She could see her parents from a distance here that she never managed in life. She could see how her father’s unwillingness to own up to when he was wrong was intertwined with his larger fear of failure, which only pushed him into greater denial. Rose had devoted her life to James and Rachel and now she had lost both and just felt numb. Rachel felt sorry for her but she could see that Rose never would have found her own strength in James’ shadow. But she couldn’t believe they would give up on her so easily! She felt a pang of sorrow that they lost hope in finding her, that they would assume she would run away without telling them. But the fact is, she guiltily remembered planning to do exactly that.  The Doe continued to trace the next layer of a spiral on her forehead…

∞

Victoria walked out of her dorm room and down the main hall. She paused on her way out of the exit to look at Rachel’s room. The door was open and her mom was inside packing up her belongings. Victoria was not surprised that Rachel was gone now. Rumors abounded about what happened to her, but Victoria was just glad she was gone. She never belonged at Blackwell anyway. Rachel had thought she was so superior and better than everyone. Sure, everyone else thought she was so cool with her California tan and smug self-righteousness. Victoria had seen what a talentless hack she really had been. If she had a talent for anything, it was convincing everyone around her that she was perfect. Pretty, and down to earth? Give me a fucking break. What was the point of being elite if you were going to condescend yourself to the losers just waiting to wash out at the bottom? Fitting that she washed out before anyone, just like her BFF Chloe. The fact that she chose to hang out with losers like that just goes to show she didn’t have what it took to be in the Vortex Club. She came to the parties all the time and got entrance as if she were a member and no one except Victoria ever questioned it. Finally, Victoria wouldn’t have to constantly try to live up to the image of someone that should have been pandering to her instead. Well, that’s all over now. Taylor was slated to get Rachel’s room once it was cleared out. Things were finally starting to go the way they always should have been.

∞

Rachel shook her head interrupting the sequence. Victoria was so small. Her light was just an ember that only seemed to flare up when someone gave her attention. She didn’t seem to have any real praise for herself, requiring it from others to sustain her. Even when Victoria thought of herself, there was a dimming effect on her own light. It was sad, really. Rachel had always assumed that Victoria’s bitchiness was a front to cover her own sense of low worth, but Rachel had never known how deep that wound was in her. The fact is that no matter how much Rachel had tried to be her friend, even after Victoria tried to fuck her over time and time again, it had only made Victoria hate her more. The Doe continued the spiral, as if in slow motion…

∞

“Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded-with what caution-with what foresight-with what dissimulation I went to work!’” Mrs Hoida continued reading. “I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed…” Mrs. Hoida stopped reading and looked over at Nathan. “Nathan! What in the world are you doing?” Nathan didn’t realize he was laughing until Hoida said his name. Tears were running down his face and when he saw Hoida’s look of confusion he just laughed even harder. How could she know? How could she know?! Did someone tell her? What was she going to do about it? What could she possibly do to him?

All around the class there was a murmur of voices. The sheeple were talking shit. They didn’t get it. Mrs. Hoida tried to quiet the class. She was saying something to Nathan in an urgent voice. There is only one possible way she could know. What did teachers really talk about in the lounge anyway? Motherfuckers wouldn’t even have a job if it weren’t for his family. They were probably all conspiring behind his back. They wanted to steal his money and ruin his family. This whole fucking town hates the Prescotts. They are jealous. None of them knew that they were just playthings. Their entire lives were meaningless. The Prescotts owned them.  Hoida reached for him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t fucking touch me, bitch!” Nathan went straight from laughter into yelling without so much as a pause. “The only way you could know is if Mark told you! You can’t fucking touch me or my family, you old whore. Keep fucking with me and see how fast you end up on the streets I’ll burn your fucking house down with you in it! You think you know the truth but no one does.” Mrs. Hoida was standing with her back against the wall and her hands up in front of her face. Her eyes were filled with terror and she flinched when he backed away from her which made him laugh again. The whole class was out of their seats and staring at him with wide eyes. It was fucking hilarious. He wished he had his camera so he could take a picture of them all standing there looking like fish with their gaping mouths. For some reason his desk was toppled over on its side and his notebook was on the ground. His papers were sprawled out in a fan around it. The pattern the pages made against the floor was mesmerizing. Something in the way they fell was soothing to him.

Madsen, the idiot security guard came into the room and started barking at him to come with him to the Principal’s office. Nathan ran his hands through his hair and straightened his jacket. He thought about picking up his papers but he couldn’t remember if there was anything worth keeping from them so just left them where they were. “What the fuck ever. This class is boring anyway. Lead the way you fucking tool.” Madsen wasn’t the police no matter how hard he wanted to be. If anyone knew what happened he would be leaving this room in handcuffs, not being escorted by the dumbest rent-a-cop in all of Oregon state. Not that his father would allow the pigs to book him. Nathan smiled confidently as he walked down the corridor with Madsen as if the security guard were his personal bodyguard. He knew he couldn’t get into any real trouble anyway, no matter what anybody knows. At first, he had been terrified that he might get caught. But Mark hasn’t been caught yet. All he has to do is play it cool. He was already thinking about the next Vortex Club party and daydreaming about who he could take to the Dark Room before they even reached the Principal’s office. It was a short meeting, and all Wells did was send him back to his dorm for the rest of the day. Which worked out just fine. He had plans to make.

∞

Rachel stared at Nathan utterly expressionless. His light was sickly green with splotchy purple and yellow bruises that morphed and mutated all around him. She could see he was sick. Not just in the way people would say that back in the world. The worst parts had pulpy fibers that were turning black even as she looked at them. His disease was destroying him. Eating away whatever goodness there was in him. She didn’t feel pity, though part of her thought she should. But she was curious what, if anything, could possibly heal him. Doe continued the spiral on her forehead, but Rachel reached up and grabbed her wrist. She could see the brilliant bluish white light surrounding Doe’s body and it was full of the same fibers of light she had seen around Nathan but instead of weak and sickly they were strong and vibrant, seemingly indestructible. Doe raised an eyebrow and smiled at her. ‘Doe eyes’ indeed. Jeez, she was pretty, Rachel thought. Doe continued the spiral pulling Rachel into another reverie.

∞

Mark Jefferson watched his students scurrying out of the classroom with a mix of fascination, and longing. As much as he admired their bright-eyed youth and naivete, he was also amazed at how fucking stupid they were. But he missed that sense of optimism that even the most cynical of his students carried around with them. That fantasy of a better future, that no matter how bad things were in the moment, it would be ok later. Through most of the summer, he had despaired at the loss of Rachel. She was unlike any other model he had ever worked with. She had optimism and hope on the one hand, but also an acute awareness of harsh realities on the other. It had been an…enticing combination.

And her ability to mimic innocence. Not the dirty school-girl with the smoldering eyes kind of innocence. That crap wasn’t art, it was just porn for amateurs. No, Rachel could actually go from sexy sophisticated and wise, to naïve, hopeful, and innocent in a moments notice. The most frustrating thing about her was her insistence to always look at the camera. He hated it. Every time, he felt like she was looking through him and it was aggravating. It took a great deal of restraint to not just dose her after their first session and be done with it. But the visual possibilities with her had been too good to waste. She had such enthusiasm, so many wistful fantasies about what her life would become. Her joie de vivre was intoxicating, and not just to him but to others as well. He had seen how everyone gravitated towards her and knew that he had to make her his. In the end, it had actually been too easy. She had already been flirting with him but he knew if he didn’t slip at least a little G into her drink he would never be able to get it up. Just knowing it was there helped.

She probably thought that sleeping with him had been her idea. Jesus, seducing her had been like making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and not half as satisfying when it came down to it. Why were women so unattractive when they were throwing themselves into your lap? Taking them by sheer force had been fun back in the early days. But taking them when they were unaware, only slightly conscious, their faces passive and beautiful. That was pure ecstasy.

The only thing that really turned him on more was the successful performance of Mark Jefferson, world renowned photographer turned philanthropic teacher. Everyone was convinced that he actually gave up his rock and roll style career in order to fulfill some altruistic need to “give back” to the community. He knew what he was. He liked the idea of himself as a predator, and these halls were his hunting ground. Every day he gained a little more trust from his students, the respect of his peers, and the admiration of the community. And every day he reveled in the fact that he could walk among them unseen, beloved, a poison in their air that they would never see until they were already choking on it…

∞

Rachel scrambled back away from Doe’s outstretched hand. It wasn’t the things that Jefferson was thinking that revulsed her. She had already learned the hard way who he really was. In a way, she had seen it early on, but had been intrigued by his experience in fashion photography, and thought his façade was just layers of complexity. No, there was nothing complex about him. He was just a sociopath that got off on hurting people and calling it art. But what really got to her was the absence of light. There was no light around Jefferson at all. Every living thing she had encountered thus far had some sort of vitality or light to it. But his presence was a void of light. A darkness that sucked in the light around him. He wasn’t just dead inside, he was a destroyer of life. Whatever he was, it wasn’t human, and he was getting worse.

(to be continued) …

Mazecrafted © 2018