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Blood Chapter 8: Who’s Your Daddy?

"Stop bouncing so much; you’re hurting me!’ I demand in discomfort as the man’s shoulder digs into my abdomen.

"Sir, yes Sir!" he says with a snarky upturn of a smirk and starts to walk softer; easing the bounce in his step.

I bite my tongue at his response but don’t say anything; surprised at how easily he complied.

A minute of silence passes as he steadily hauls me to the truck; like the predator with it’s ripe prey.

"So, Viddía; How much do you weigh?

-It feels like there’s a hefty feather on my shoulder.” He asks with a plain voice then ends it with a childish giggle; attempting to make conversation.

A second of thought passes, as we get closer to the truck, before I focus on his black leather belt and say, ”Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady of her weight?…” I say in rhetoric, denying his attempt at a light conversation; as light as it could possibly be, given the horrid situation.

"… And how do you know my name?" My once cocky tone, having been wasted on him, completely shifts to match my own inquiry as he continues to indulge in a laugh at my expense.

"Who said you were a lady?…" He cracks a witty come-back at me, clearly avoiding my question.

"… Answer me." I state in stubborn dominance, noticing his absence of response; uninterested in his failed attempt at a joke.

He stops in place just a few feet from the truck.

"And just who do you think you’re talking to?” his smile fades quickly along with the fleeting echo of his laugh.

"Just answer my question, monster; you owe me that much!” I blurt out over the minor discomfort still floating around my stomach.

"I owe you nothing!” he growls into the open clearing, becoming irritated.

"-And I am no monster!” he continues.

"Then please; enlighten me!- Explain to me where I come into play, in your ‘pure act of innocence’!?

I mean for God’s sake, you have me draped over your shoulder like some kind of fox-fur throw.

-And your ass has been two inches from my face for the past 5 minutes!” I yell at his back; abandoning my once conceived plan of compliance.

"Oh then by all means, feel free to write a letter of complaint! -Then once you’re done, you can put it in my back pocket while you’re down there!

And don’t play dumb, Viddía, -It’s not attractive.” He snorts in revel; feeding my rising frustration.

"Ugh, well you can kiss my ass while you’re up there, And what are you talking about, psychopath!?

The only one being dumb here is you, for kidnapping me!

… Do you even realize what’s going to happen to you once you’re caught!?

-Or better yet, when my dad gets his hands on you!?

You’re the fool here!

I laugh at you, and your idiotic fallacies!” I hiss at him, the feel of malice and adrenaline crawling their way up my spine yet again.

The man then does something I never would have expected.

He starts laughing; a true gut laugh, from deep within him.

He then flips me over his shoulder and gently sets me down onto my feet directly in front of him.

"Laugh now, while you still can, but you just wait!" I sneer at him, not yet done with putting him to shame.

"Such big words for such a little girl.” He says, clearly mocking me.

With that being said he hooks his left hand behind me to engulf my contained wrists, curls the fingers of his right hand under the left side of my jaw, then drags me in close by his grip on my hands.

He traces little circles on my cheek with his thumb, leans his face in close, and places his mouth on the curve of my ear.

"Never-mind, keep fighting; it’s proving to be quite enjoyable" He whispers slowly, brushing his smooth lips against my skin; his warm breath playing hide and seek in my hair.

"Get off of me!" I say steadily through lightly gritted teeth and yank my head to the side, from his calm grasp; putting a more comfortable distance between our faces.

He removes his right hand from caressing the modest straightaway of my jawline and presses it to the base of my head in exchange.

He pulls my head back close to his, causing a few hairs to come lose from previously nestled behind my ear and settle over my face.

"I said I don’t know what you’re talking about!" I yell in his face through the stray forest of black hair; shaking with adrenaline and anger.

In response he pulls my head in even closer and presses his forehead against mine; his eyes boring into mine.

The once bright green has transmogrified into a deep, beastly red.

Chills spread over me like wildfire released upon dry grass, and my pupils shrink in response to the feelings of inferiority and fear; staring into the depth of his content.

How is that possible!?

Eyes can’t change color that drastically!

He really is a monster… But what kind?

"Get this through your thick skull, little girl; no one is coming for you.

From this day on, you belong to me.

You knew it was coming, so don’t try and fight it now; I won’t let you.

No one will ever find you.

No one will even try to.

You are Mine, Viddía Mailliard.”his scarily calm words play rhythmically to an ugly tune against my eardrum; so smooth and terrorizing, as if he planned out every word and emotion.

Each key word meant to belittle me, and every other meant to show claim over his new property; me.

This is too much, I think I’m going to be sick…

With each specifically chosen word, he drives a crisp shard of glass deeper and deeper into my heart; so agonizingly slow. Such an indescribable shade of pain, to feel your soul being sliced from the cusp of reality.

The gravity of his facial expression alone screams to me that there is truth behind his words.

Somewhere along the way of listening to his personalized dictation of my future, my mouth subconsciously gaped open in desolation.

"They… You’re wrong… They will…" I stammer in astonishment, unsure of what to do or say; all adrenaline having dissipated and all hope seeming to have just stretched out of reach; feeling of numbness.

"Why must you pain yourself with false hope?" Zayn cuts in, coming into view from once behind the cover of the truck, causing the man to pull away almost completely and focus on Zayn as he speaks.

"-You’ve read the contract; so enough with your moronic and pointless behavior, vixen!” He continues to rant.

My insides flip and twist into tremendous knots at the mere realization that his words are directed at me.

You make me sick-You talk so big; with your insults and threats, toying with me as if I were a helpless ant.

But if I had the chance at you alone again, no weapons, I’d show you a few things my dad taught me!

My thoughts go wild at the sound of his voice alone, but all I can manage out is, “What? A contract?”.

The man turns back to look at me with a puzzled look on his face; finally hearing me maybe?

I take his bewildered look as a sign to keep going, “For the last time; I don’t know anything about a contract, or anything you are talking about!” I continue; sinking further into frustrated confusion.

In the very same moment I finish speaking, the man turns to look at Zayn; who is already looking back at him with a worried look.

The man creeps his eyes back to me from Zayn, “The Royal Family Contract… You’re parents never showed it to you?” The man questions in a low, serious tone.

NO! They obviously didn’t!

-I might as well be talking to a brick wall since, clearly,neither of you two oafs are listening!” I say, purely exasperated.

"Outrage! -They broke the rules of the contract, we must tell the…" Zayn begins in a flustered panic.

"No! We don’t!

I broke them too remember?” The man pauses and turns his whole body to face Zayn, yet keeps his left hand still locked around my wrists.

"-And I don’t need that to be brought to their attention.

I’ve waited long enough; she belongs to me, regardless!

I will not wait another six months just to re-claim what’s already mine.” 

"Hey!" I scream, having lost all patience.

They both look at me slightly surprised, though their serious expressions easily shine through the masks.

"I demand you tell me what’s going on or… or… I, ahh…" I stumble over my words having not thought of how to end the threat; my eyebrows molded down over my eyes none the less.

"Or, what?” Zayn challenges with sharp eyes scraping harshly against mine.

The man looks over to Zayn with a crimson glare.

"Enough; let’s go." The man says in a grave tone of voice, directed towards Zayn.

Zayn then turns away from me and immediately starts back towards the truck.

He opens the driver-side door, climbs in, positions himself comfortably into the leather seat, then slams the door behind him.

I now realize the truck is a 2014 Chevy Silverado.

It is lifted about eight inches from the regular stock level and is set upon beautiful 38 inch tires.

The exterior is completely blacked out; grill, rims, paint, tires, accessories, headlights, taillights, and tinted windows all black.

"Wait." I say quietly, no longer needing to yell; given the silence that had quickly consumed the situation and surrounding atmosphere once Zayn left us alone.

The man turns back to me slowly, looking over every feature before responding.

"What is it?" He finally asks in a plain voice, clearly in no mood for tricks or favors.

"What’s your name?" I ask, unsure of myself. I drop my eyes somewhat and zig-zag them back and forth between two thoughts that managed to fully manifest from my mind.

I feel him just standing there looking at me so I look back upon his face.

It seems as though there is a war being waged in his mind.

His mood has completely shifted again and quite sooner than expected, he responds in a calm voice; sweet even.

"It’s Harry." He drops his eyes from my eyes to my mouth and keeps them ingrained there for a fraction of a second, before looking in the direction of the truck.

He pulls me into a one-armed hold against his left side; wrapping his same-sided arm securely around my waist, grabbing into my left hip.

As he begins to walk towards the truck, he pulls me right alongside him; more accurately, dragging.

We reach the truck after a short walk and he leads me to the back seat.

"Who’s the mommy and who’s the daddy?" I saw with a sarcastic upturn of my nose.

"Huh?" He questions is blatant confusion.

"If you’re going to make me sit alone in the backseat like the child, then I want to know; who’s the mom and who’s the dad?” I say as if what I’m referring to is obvious.

"Very funny, smart ass, now get in; I’m sitting in the back with you" he rolls his eyes at my sarcastic statement.

"I’d rather sit alone, thanks." I say in a snobby manner and mimic his eye roll; struggling to climb into the dim-lit back seat before the option of man-handling came up.

"Too late, you practically begged me to!" He winks at me, trying to stifle a laugh.

"God, you’re bipolar!" I growl at him, and struggle further to get in all the while still with confined hands.

"Whatev-Well thanks for the view!

I guess we’re even now; but I’m more than ok with yours.” He jokes, as I realize I just put my butt is in his face.

"Ew. No.

And I’m not cat-woman, I can’t just super-jump into your mountain of a truck!” 

"Wrong DC character, babe" he giggles like an adolescent teen as he places his hands on the backs of my thighs and begins to slightly push in the attempt to help me up.

"Don’t you ever call me that again! -Do you hear me!?” I whip back at him in a harsh tone.

"Just get in before I ‘spank' you!” he mocks me; I can already sense a smile taking form on his lips.

Just bringing that image to mind riles me.

I can clearly remember the feel of his hand, imitating a clap, against my tender skin.

The way he found sick enjoyment in my cries of pain.

How I never had the time to be sore afterwards on account of this strange man behind me coming to my apparent reuse, only to slap me soon after.

Now that I think of it, I can almost feel the soreness coming on now.

Oh lord.

Before I can respond, I feel the man’s right hand guide its way up my thigh to palm my ass.

Right as I’m about to kick back at him, I feel a swift jolt of force.

I flop onto the leather of the seats like a fish out of water; helpless and unaware.

Did he just push me!?

Oh my-he just pushed me!

That dick!

He quickly climbs in after me, kneels over me, then props me up on the leather seat next to him by pulling me up by my shoulders.

He wastes no time buckling me in, and then himself.

I am forced to hunch over slightly because my hands set so awkwardly behind my back.

Zayn starts the engine and it purrs beautifully to a quick and healthy start.

He takes off slowly and begins to maneuver his way out of the field that previously held my only hope of salvation; now lessening the ground between me and my probable confinement.

I look over to the gorgeous, yet dangerously perplexing, man set comfortably in the leather seat beside me.

He is looking forward with a pleased smile on his face and his eyes are shining, having long returned to their glorious versions of green.

He is so close I can practically feel his body-heat radiating off of him and onto me.

As I lose myself in speculation, I don’t notice as he carelessly extends his hand under my gaze and places it on my thigh; the one closest to him.

He squeezes my thigh gently under his large hand, as he must’ve predicted my reaction; my eyes now widened and locked onto his wandering hand.

"-And by the way, I’m the ‘Daddy’.” He finally looks over at me with a devious flare in his eyes, and flashes me a smile that could bring even the purest nun to her knees.

Blood Chapter 7: Lips Of Guilted Pleasure

With each step thrust before me, one after the other, I am losing stamina and focus; exceedingly distracted by the man clamoring behind me.

How is he so fast?

Is he a damn track star or something!?

Go faster Viddía! You can’t stop now; you have a chance! 

I transfer my sprint into a full-blown panic-run, leaving no room for steady emotion nor solid thought; aside from ‘RUN’, screeching through my mind a thousand times over. 

Pushing myself to the absolute limit, my heart is pounding throughout every inch of my body, and my breathe is becoming thick and heavy; the freezing sensation of dry is crawling up the walls of my throat.

My face is beginning to redden under the weather, and my eyes are starting to burn against the wind. 

I suddenly cross my right foot over my left, breaking from the straight away, attempting to shake the man but he is right on my heels; matching my every step, condemning me further. 

He is quickly closing the gap and almost in arms length of me.

He shoots his right arm out for me, but in that same moment I break into the opposite direction; evading his attempt at me. 

Hell, he’s going to catch me! 

Just as I break right, I fumble over my feet, loose total balance, and start to tip over. 

No! No! -Please No! I was so close! 

I feel the man’s fingers suddenly hook around my left arm; constricting into a firm hold as I’m headed for the gravel. 

I’m then torn from all hope of freedom as he, ever so easily, plucks me out of the sticky air like a daisy from plush soil; pulling me back to him just before connecting with the ground, back into my twisted entrapment. 

Damn it all! 

I crash into him like a rag-doll; my whole body colliding with his, resulting in the release of a deep aggravated grunt.

My left cheek slams into the right side of his chest, against the soft cotton of his shirt; thus silencing my verbal reaction. 

Before I have the chance to register the situation, he had stopped us completely in place and is now forcing me a few steps back from him; guiding me by the hand gripped tightly around my arm. 

Just as I look up at him, searching for reason, from the corner of my eye, I see his free hand quickly hooking down at me.

There is no warning, or time to react as his large open palm crashes into my right cheek, then quickly scrapes right off in a forced motion of sheer anger; the sound uttered from the harsh connection is now weaving throughout the monumental trees, climbing up the dense bark to touch the sky. 

Having unknowingly allowed the force of the slap to influence me, I let out a horrid whimper as my head cracks to the side; like that of a porcelain doll, broken from design. 

Focusing on the man’s hand still clamped around my arm, I take my bottom lip in between my teeth and bite down hard enough to take the focus away from the sting burning over my cheek.

I slowly drag my hand up to my face, fondle my heated cheek beneath my small palm, then release my bottom lip to it’s rest. 

My hair is freshly disheveled; draping over my face like that of a midnight sheath to the now damaged, pale skinned, porcelain doll. 

A few small sections of hair are caught between my fingers and under my palm; while others mimic a kite in the wind, lost in the motion of my ragged breathing. 

I break from my once shocked mold and look back up to him, caressing my face; now feeling only pure malice for the man holding a confusingly frustrated expression. 

My eyes are merciless, drilling holes into the angered green orbs of the man that I had once believed to harbor sadness.

I notice as the man stares down at me, every part of him is tense; jaw clenched, and his breathing matching mine. 

After staring back at me for a few moments, he releases his one-handed grip of my arm and pulls me into him; immediately wrapping both arms around me. 

He ties his right hand around my waist and clamps the other, left hand, to the back of my head; snaking his fingers into my hair and loosely forming a fist around the gathered amount. 

He draws my head in close against his chest, leans his head down, and gently rests his left cheek on my hair.

His breathing is wild against my hair; sending a few stray hairs flying in his make-shifted breeze. 

My head is made to follow along with the motion of his chest; plunging inward and outward from the rapid heaves of frustration and oxygen.

He pulls me in so close, holding me tight against him; no room for air, nor possible salvation. 

Is he freakin’ hugging me?! 

I attempt to shift my head to look up at the man, holding me as though I was his anchor; I, lost in his arms, the only thing keeping him from blowing away with the crazed wind.

I am held so close to him that my cheek drags up along his shirt; creating creases and wrinkles in its wake.

He lifts his head from mine, and loosens his duel grip slightly, thus allowing the struggled movement. 

All the while unaware my hand is still glued to my cheek, I manage to gather my senses among the horror and confusion; meeting his eyes. 

When I connect with his gaze, his eyes are already focused on where mine would inevitably reach his. 

What does he want?

I really wanna know why he’s holding me! 

"What do you want from me?" I ask plainly in a firm tone; stronger than I expected it to be. 

His eyes lock onto mine so intensely, it’s almost frightening; they hold what looks like regret, and something else unidentifiable.

It feels as though he is starring into me, through me even, trying to tell me something. 

I need to get him off of me and run… even though I don’t know how much good that’ll do me at this point… 

The hug-like hold is now loose enough to where I can maneuver my free hand up to his chest. 

I tear my eyes from his, having not received an answer, and lower my head, along with the hand from my cheek, to focus on placing both hands flat on his chest; simultaneously dragging my cheek back down against the soft feel of his shirt. 

I start to struggle in place and try to push myself away from him, but he is too strong to even hope to budge; clearly stronger than Zayn by the feel of him, melded so firmly around me. 

"What do you want!? -Let go of me, you crazy man!" I yell into his chest, pounding my fists against him. 

I now begin to jerk and thrash around violently, all tangled up in him, but he holds me in place with ease.

I dig my long, perfectly devious, candy-red nails into his chest, burying them into the flesh hidden just below his shirt.

He pulls me in even closer to him than before, squeezing me against him, to where I can no longer move at all; trapping my hands between our bodies. 

"I said… Get off! Get… Off!" I grunt in desperation from within his strong arms. After giving it everything I have, I stop struggling; realizing just how futile my attempts really are. 

I feel the man loosen his hold on me once my disgruntled fit has ceased, and releases his soft handful of my hair; maneuvering it flat against the back of my head in exchange. 

He then lowers his hand against my head, still lost in my hair, to rest at my neck.

He keeps his hand there for a few seconds before gathering some of my hair into a fist again, though this time into a tight grip.

He pulls my head back away from his chest, while keeping his other hand painted around my waist, making sure to keep my lower half pressed firmly against him. 

My hands rear back, following along with my head out of reflex, as if to guard my face from an incoming fist, like dad taught.

He then retracts his hand from around my waist and grabs both of my wrists into one of his hands; as if he planned it. 

He pulls my constricted hands down in front of my hips before momentarily releasing my hair from his other hand.

He reaches into the right pocket of his jeans, then swiftly reveals a zip-tie as he jolts his hands toward mine.

He quickly maneuvers my wrists behind my back before securing the zip-tie around them. 

He then returns his left hand to my head, but this time softly resting it on the nape of my neck, trapping my hair under his hand.

He brings his other, right hand up to the top of my left shoulder and utters a soft, yet proud “hmph” noise, before slowly gliding his fingers down along the length of my arm; so agonizingly slow, like honey. 

I look up at him, trembling with anger, confusion, fear, and god knows what else having been accumulated over the short time.

He stares down at me from hooded eyes, careless, and turns his lips into a devious smirk.

I can’t hide the shiver that slips out from under my ribs as the intensity in his eyes, and the feel of his fingers against my sheathed skin, tear through me.

He study’s my features for about a minute, soaking In my every essence of life, then reaches his large hand down to encase my hip; having just finished the distance of my arm. 

My supply of oxygen has long since normalized from the run, but my heart-rate is still erratic, reacting to the man’s every motion as he toys with me; dropping my eyes from his face to his right hand, then shooting back up to his face, time and time again. 

He squeezes my hip gently, but firm enough to get a sizable reaction. 

As predicted, I jump from the sudden contact and give him the satisfaction of watching the surprised expression on my face form so effervescently; looking up into his eyes, considering the terrors of what might ensue. 

He releases my hip and brings his hand up to his face, tapping his index finger against the front of his chin in thought; mocking me, as if to declare that he is deciding his next move.

I form my eyebrows into the clear notion of worried judgment as he continues to pound imaginary dents into the smooth skin of his chin. 

I take the slender moment, amongst the multitude of emotions flooding my mind, to finally fully analyze the man. 

He has tanned-white skin and large, brown, waved curls framing his face; the top section of hair is pushed up off his forehead. 

He is so incredibly tall, easily towering over me; just under six foot maybe, while I am only 5’5. 

His eyebrows curve perfectly above his piercing green eyes; indicating every emotion with such simplicity. 

His eyes are a beautiful shade of frightening. 


This is so wrong! -What am I thinking? 

His face is of the heart-shaped variety, with a strongly outlined jaw; very manly, and a trait I happen to regret finding extremely attractive. 

Oh god, why?…

No-Stop Viddía!.. No.

No?… No! 

His top lip is shaped to naturally mimic cupid’s bow, along with the bottom lip following suit; meeting sweetly at the corners.

They are a deep rosy pink and so deliciously full; yet a larger case of slim, like Zayn’s lips. 

How strange are these men? -So beautiful yet so malicious…

I don’t understand-  None of this makes any sense… 

Along the way of getting lost on his mouth, his lips pull back to reveal a perfectly straight, and devious smile; unleashing the most defined and angelic set of dimples I have ever seen. 

Oh… Double wow… 

I realize now that I had glazed over in fascination, head slightly tilted to the right, softly clamping down on the insides of my cheeks in thought; subconsciously pushing out my lips to a small degree. 

Having been caught, I spring my eyes back up to his, wide-eyed like that of an innocent child, straighten my head, and release my cheeks all in the matter of a millisecond. 

He lets out a subtle, aroused laugh as he removes his right hand from his chin and sets it on my back; between my shoulder-blades, held flat. 

I tilt my head slightly to the right again, and cautiously look over his face for any indication of remorse.

There’s nothing but sadistic pleasure on debut, from ear to ear. 

I feel his other, left, hand retract from my neck and creep it’s way to my right set of ribs, but I dare not acknowledge it; in the fear of ‘tempting’ him.

He slowly feels his way up over my right breast and stops at the zipper of my jacket. 

I let out an immediate gasp under his gentle touch.

He shows off a toothy grin as he curls his fingers around the tab of the zipper and takes it with care. 

"Do you always react this beautifully when ‘touched’?

… Has anyone else ever touched you, Viddía!?” His once proud tone turns angry; a strong hint of jealousy embedded in his breathe.

I feel him tense against me. 

"What way? -I don’t know what you’re talking about." I stutter in fragmented strains of thought, not wanting to anger him further by saying the wrong thing. 

"-Just let go of me, you pervert!” I continue; having accidentally allowed the last word to slip off my tongue. 

My eyes widen at the realization of my stupidity, and my pupils do just the opposite; shrinking to a fraction of their original size. 

"What’s this?-a pervert!?" He fires back with wildfire burning amongst the crisp strokes of radiant green. 

He drops his eyes down to my lips, takes the left side of his bottom lip between his teeth, then slowly drags his eyes back up to mine; having calmed tremendously and hired on a new emotion. 

I don’t like that look in his eyes… oh lord..  

"Well I was going to zip it up, because it had fallen quite low during your little flare of ‘disobedience’, but… I guess I could show you just how much of a ‘pervert' I really am, instead…” he trails off, and I see his eyes drop to my chest; that same wildfire returning in small increments. 

I can feel them burning holes into me, in the worst of ways. 

"No!" I simply shout in his face, both angered and slightly frightened at the same time. 

I clamp my eyes shut, twist my head to the right, and set multiple hitches in my breath as I feel him hastily defy me; slowly dragging the zipper down against my skin. 

As he exposes the pale skin of my collar bones and chest, I am riddled with goosebumps and a foreign sensation; never felt before. 

No-oh god, why did I say that?

Stupid Viddía, so stupid; stupid! 

To my surprise he stops just a few inches down from where he started; halting just below the definite outline of my breasts, as well as ending the strange feeling beginning to burn somewhere deep inside me.

Thankfully the jacket remains secure over my breasts, showing nothing other than my prominent cleavage. 

"Hmm? What’s this-No bra?" He sucks in a quick breath, then lets out a swift chuckle immediately after, in mock-surprise. 

"Sorry if I lack the means to impress; if I would have known before-hand that I’d be getting manhandled and kidnapped by your bumbling goons, I would have made sure to put on something real’ special, just for you.” I sneer at him in blatant sarcasm, really putting emphasis on the few key words. 

"I’ll keep that in mind" he mumbles to himself, trailing off again, and releases the zipper. "I’m just surprised I never noticed it before." I continues, in a flat voice. 

"Well I’m surprised my foot isn’t halfway up your a-" I retaliate in a gruff version of my voice, but he cuts me off soon after I start. 

"Ah, ah, ah! -I see you have a problem with your temper; we’ll have to work on that.

A sweet voice such as yours shouldn’t be used in such an unattractive manner.

-But as for this view, I can easily say, I’m really quite impressed, Viddía” he continues to flaunt his words; clearly indicating them towards my cleavage. 

"My only problem is you and your imbeciles. And it’s too bad you had to ‘restrain' me to even see it, you monster!” I say, having been the first, and only, thing to pop up in my mind.

He then moves the tips of his index and middle finger of his left hand to meet with the section of skin just below my cleavage. 

"You’ll come to learn that I always get want I want… One way or the other; always.”  He says in an eerily serious tone.

What a creep!  

He leans his head in close enough to me that I can feel his warm breath dancing over me with each exhale. He then drags the tips of his fingers up along my skin, purposely bringing them between my breasts in the process. 

"You’re a sick man!" I spit in clear disgust.

His touch is warm and gentle against my skin; if not for the situation, it would have been considered romantic, desirable even. 

"I know; I happen to pride myself on it. All the other women had no complaints, they quite liked it, actually” He flashes me a cheeky smirk, along with a wink.

I say nothing, but tighten my eyes on him, disgusted, yet strangely intrigued, by all the incoming thoughts of this monster with other normal women.

Were they even normal?-or like him?…

"And you as well, will also find it quite pleasurable, soon enough…” He says under his breathe, so quietly, to where It sneaks wearily past my ears, without so much as a trace. 

His fingers make their way up my chest, after taking his time feeling his way over every inch of silky flesh.

He then begins to trail his fingers up along the front of my throat and stops them at my chin.

He curls his index finger just under the bottom of my chin and presses his thumb flat against the front, bringing then to a gentle, yet firm, grip; claiming it. 

He uses his grip on my chin to line my head up to face his directly, and gives me another cheeky smile. 

He leans in even closer, to where I can feel the pressure of his breathe solely against my cheeks, it smells of appetizing citrus; unlike the overpowering cinnamon of Zayn’s. 

He parts his lips slowly, runs his tongue over his bottom lip at equal speed, and takes the inner-base of his bottom lip between his teeth.

His eyes shift back and forth between mine and my lips in a very sensual manner, as the smirk quickly disappears; his breath slowing to a concentrated pace. 

My breath slows to match his, not knowing what to do or how to react; I find myself frozen, lost in him. 

Just as he leans in, as close as possible, appearing as though he is going to kiss me, he whips his head back and lets out a deep throaty laugh; having left me struggling for breath and searching for my conscience. 

"Whelp, that’s Enough play for now; It’s time to go” he says plainly; releasing my chin. 

What in the holy hell just happened?

Did I like it!?

Why did I like it!?

Something important must have snapped in my head.

I need a therapist… And some holy water… 

"W-What?" I finally push out in a panicked stutter. 

"Zayn! Pack up, we’re leaving now!" he shouts over his shoulder, never breaking his amused eye-contact with me. 

I begin to hear fumbling in the near background and realize just how far I actually managed to run; which wasn’t very far at all. 

Before I know what’s happening, the man drops down to a squat before me, and thrusts his left shoulder into my waist. 

"Woah! Wait, wait, wait, What are you doing!?" I shriek as he lifts me into the air, draped over his shoulder like a prized kill having just been prepared for the victory stroll back to the truck. 

"Like I just said, we’re leaving.

Do you have problems with your hearing now too?” He says with a clearly sarcastic tone. 

I don’t want to have to deal with Mr. Bipolar anymore, so I’ll give in… for now… Might as well as where he’s taking me, that way I’ll at least know what I’m dealing with… I think.

"Screw you!" I say in temporary defeat, having nothing else at the ready to whip back at him.

When it comes to After, it's good at first. It is a nice decent story. But as you keep reading it keeps having the same theme over and over. He gets mad, she gets sad, they fight and he says he will do better. Every single chapter that happens. It also just keeps going on like this story is never ending so it keeps repeating the same plots over and over.

Oh wow..

Tbh After is just a dumb and pointless story for twelve year olds.

I’ve heard that, I’m not going to comment cause I haven’t read it yet :P

Someone write a oneshoot where Harry and Zayn like you but they never say anything but one day you find them wanking because of a porn video where the girl in the video looks like you and they are moaning your name so you end up having a threesome.

omfg YES

Did the video make you mad?

I haven’t been this upset with life since Serena cheated on Nate with Dan and Serena and Nate broke up

You don’t want my issues

The real question is, how long was that fucking pier

any recent updates on the lake house?

Well I posted part 5 about 2 weeks ago, 6 is coming along(:

At least zayn looked good

Yes I have and there are no words


Tag as sex, high school, teacher, oral

Request: Can someone do a oneshot where one of the boys (preferably Harry, Zayn, or Louis) are your sports coach (doesn’t matter what sport) and you’re doing really shitty at practice because you have a lack of motivation so he takes you to his office and gives you some….

          I was in a funk. Plain and simple. I didn’t want to do anything right now except crawl into bed and pretend I didn’t exist for the moment. But, I had responsibilities to uphold: theater, DECA, but most importantly volleyball. It was my senior year and I was captain. A lot was resting on my shoulders. Did I really want to endure that right now? No. Did I need to? Yes. I walked into the girls’ dressing room and began getting dressed.

“(Y/N), what’s up?” (Y/F/N) asked, leaning onto a locker.

“What? Nothing. Just out of it.” I replied.

“Well, better get back into it before Coach Malik yells at you.” (Y/F/N) replied, tying her shoes.

“Hope he’s not in a bad mood.” I muttered, scrunching my nose at the thought.

Luck was not on my side today. We began practice with suicides. The whistle he blew constantly began to give me a headache. By the time warm-ups ended, my forehead was covered with a sheen of sweat and my shorts were beginning to fold into my asscrack.

“Alright, this is our last game to qualify for states. We need to use all of our assets.” Coach Malik ordered, brushing a hand through his hair. He always seemed to do that when he was nervous.

“Alright, positions.” Coach Malik called out, clapping his hands in an attempt to make us hustle. I took my place in front of the net, waiting for the other half of our team to serve. When they did, it was all downhill for me. I missed multiple volleys and when it was my turn to serve, my aim was so off that I practically hit the net everytime. I couldn’t even spike the damn ball.

“(Y/N)!” Coach Malik shouted. I flinched and looked at him slowly. His jaw was clenched and he was gripping the clipboard very tightly.

“Sit out, you’re not playing in this game.” Coach Malik grunted.

“What?! Are you serious? You can’t—.” I started to say.

“I can and I will.” Coach Malik muttered, pointing to the chair. Fuck, damn it, I thought to myself. After an hour of me sitting in a folding chair resting my head in my hands, coach finally dismissed us. I sighed and headed towards the locker room along with the rest of the girls.

“Except for you, Ms. Miller.” Coach Malik said. I took a deep breath and faced Coach Malik with a smile faker than my stepmother’s new tits.

“Follow me.” He said, starting to walk to my office.

“Should I change first?” I asked, pulling the wedgie out of my butt.

“No, you’re fine.” He replied quickly. We stepped into his office and I sat in the comfortable seat while he stood in front of his desk, leaning back on it.

“(Y/N), what’s up with you today?” He asked with concern.

“My boyfriend broke up with me yesterday.” I blurted. It was true. We had been going out for a solid year. Then he just up and ended things.

“That’s no reason to be —.” Mr. Malik started to explain.

“And you know what the worst part is? The one thing I’ll miss is having sex with him. I mean, he doesn’t have a cock made by Zeus, but I loved that thing to death.” I ranted. I forgot I was in the presence of my volleyball coach and not one of my best friends. I looked up at him and noticed his hard gaze on me.

“You said his….penis….isn’t made by Zeus?” he asked. My jaw dropped.

“That is the only thing you got from my rant?” I asked.

“I want you to give me your honest opinion.” Mr. Malik said, starting to open his button up. His skin was scattered with multiple tattoos. His whole entire right arm was covered with ink. Two wings and a red painted kiss stood out as I roamed his torso. I stood up slowly and hesitantly walked over to him.

“May I?” I asked, bringing my hand up to his skin.

“Absolutely.” He replied, nodding his head. I rubbed his shoulder and trailed my hand slowly down his arm.

“Who is this?” I asked, my hand landing on a girl wearing a beanie. She was wearing a peace shirt with a jean jacket over top. Her hip bones were very prominent and the tattoo stopped at the top of her thighs.

“My ex-girlfriend.” Mr. Malik replied.

“Mr. Malik, why are you showing me this?” I asked.

“Please, call me Zayn.” He replied, his breath blowing down my neck. He reached around and rested his hand on my ass. He squeezed it before guiding me towards him. My front pressed into his hard-on and I moaned involuntary.

“Mr.—Zayn. We can’t.” I murmured, getting frightened but turned on at the same time.

“It’s legal.” Zayn said, kissing the shell of my ear. A shiver rolled through me as I turned my face to his. His brown eyes stared deep into my mine before he leaned in to kiss me. His chapped lips met mine before pulling back, biting my bottom lip and bringing it with him. He let it snap back into place before placing another hand on my bum and bringing us closer. He licked his lips before placing his lips back on mine. My hands rested on his defined pectoral muscles as he stood up. Keeping his hands on my body, he turned us around and lifted me up, placing me on his desk. He leaned me back before rolling his hips into me. I let my head roll back from his lips and I moaned loudly.

“Shh, you gotta be quiet for me, baby.” Zayn whispered in my ear before he trailed kisses from my lips to my neck.

“Well, you gotta stop doing that if you want me to.” I chuckled, my hands going into his soft black hair. I pulled him back up to my lips so he could muffle my moans.

“God, if I don’t get you out of these clothes right now, I’ll rip them off of you.” Zayn groaned, standing up to pull my spandex down. I was commando because that just helped me out better with volleyball. It was a natural thing. I didn’t think that it would be better in the long run…maybe. When Zayn saw this, he whistled.

“Damn if I had known about this.” He murmured, falling onto his knees. He carefully separated my folds with his fingers before taking a long swipe with his tongue. I covered my mouth to muffle the long awaited moan to come out of my mouth. My other hand reached down to grab a fistful of his hair. That gave an indication for him to keep going. He groaned in an animalistic manner before pulling me closer to the edge and devouring me. I yelped in surprise before clutching the edge of the desk, my nails creating crescent marks. His hands trailed up my body and reached under my sports top to grasp my breasts.

“Zayn…I-I-I can’t.” I stuttered, my core starting to quiver.

“Give it to me.” Zayn groaned. With his voice vibrating through me and his stubble tickling me, I jolted as I came, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“No, let me hear you.” Zayn muttered, not stopping.

“Oh my…” I shouted, squealing as I tried to get away.

“You aren’t going anywhere, love.” Zayn growled, standing up and pulling down his pants. He quickly sat me up, turned me around, and bent me over on the desk. He lightly slapped his cock on my ass. I sighed as he filled me up, making me arch my back.

“God, you’re so fucking tight.” Zayn groaned. He couldn’t keep his hands off of me. They would squeeze my ass, reach around to fondle my breasts, pull me back on him by my shoulders, wrap his hands into my loose ponytail and pull my head back. He couldn’t get enough. I couldn’t get enough. I tried to keep as quiet as possible, small whimpers coming out of my mouth. I had to admit, his penis was shaped by Zeus. It made me fall apart in all sorts of ways. And I could not stop coming.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Zayn grunted, pulling out. He pulled up my shirt and I felt a milky liquid on my lower back. I sighed as I slowly started to stand back up.

“Here, I have some napkins in my drawer, let me wipe your back.” Zayn said, his voice sounding lazy. He walked around his desk, still naked and pulled a napkin out of his desk. He walked back around and made sure you get all of it off my back.

“So…” I mumbled, pulling on my spandex.

“So, the next time you need a cock made by Zeus, you know who to come to.” Zayn winked, pulling up his pants.

“Thank you, Zayn.” I smiled, resting my hand on his shoulder.

“Anytime, (Y/N).” Zayn smiled, kissing my cheek. He nuzzled it and caressed my cheek before bringing my lips to his once again. Our tongues lazily intertwined together before we parted.

“Get outta here.” Zayn chuckled before swatting my bum. I yelped as I walked out the door, laughing and feeling ten times better than I did when I first walked in. Zayn was nothing like my ex-boyfriend, and if he wanted to keep doing this, I would gladly let him galvanize me.

 A/NI had SO much fun writing this, I hope you enjoyed it. Follow me here and give me feedback on it :)

When is Blood part 7 coming out?

I have no idea, soon I hope(:

To the anon that wants the links to Personal Experience, I have them on my account :) Just go on my profile and I have a section for it :)