lap , swirl , lick and suck. she was lost in the act of kissing him. her tongue doing it’s best to drink in every part of him. as if his spit was the literal nectar of her life right now. this little battle between their tongues was clearly heated but she showed no sign of backing down. not with such encouraging signs she was getting ; the sense of everything slowly returning -- hell , even the clear fact of her tongue which was cold and dry was slowly growing more wet and warm. ( just like other places -- ) little by little , kiss by kiss , shadow would slowly leave her mind. her selfish desire to live over shinning her beloved puppy. self desire and the simply fact of how fucking good it felt. there was no stress or thought here. the only thing that was felt of her mind was the lust for more.
she continued to pull on his ginger locks as if it was some bridle to a horse. her claws still marking his back. nothing about this was gentle or sweet -- this was passionate and rough. but it was also pure and genuine. as his hands shifted beneath her rear her curiosity was peaked but she was clearly too involved with his lips. the lone arm holding her up did not make her fret from her grinding. her live little hips still arching forwarding and rolling against his. meeting his harsh thrusting hips with a feminine roll. her hips would only pause of a moment as his hand snaked its way into them. as his force snapped off her pant button, she almost wanted to roll her eyes, but any sarcasm quips she might of had vanished as she felt his calloused fingers trail against her slick most sensitive spot. hips now stuttering as she pulled her head back to let out a heavy moan.
the sensition.. overwhelming. by all means, laura moon was no virgin. but it felt almost like she was again. her long dead body was such a stranger to these feelings it was almost sensory overload. but was it too much? no. it wasnt enough. her long lashes fluttered as her eyes rolled back. her moan of pleasure was soft but desperate. she could barely hear his stupid retort. she wished she hadnt.
‘ .. piss ..... off.......... -- dont stop. ‘
panting out her forced reply, her hips rolled once again. not towards his hips this time but towards his hand. wanting more of that intense pleasure.
Leprechauns were creatures arguably more fickle than humans ; craving attention and offerings, and spiting those who didn’t provide them with it childishly. Perhaps it wasn’t a good or amiable nature, but it was his own – and having gone without any semblance of belief or generosity in so very long had made Sweeney a bitter, callous soul. He’d been alone for so very long, he’d practically forgotten what it felt like to let another person in. Some small part of him wondered if he were even capable of it anymore.
But Laura Moon hadn’t given him the choice. He needn’t have allowed her in – she had forced her way through, worming her way past his anger and vitriol like the maggots steadily working their way through the lining of her internal organs. In spite of how hard he fought to keep her away, to hate her, to never give her any semblance of a clue that he may feel anything other than blistering rage and disgust for her …underneath it all, she had settled into a corner of his soul he’d thought long dead. He both hated and feared her for it, and yet still …still, all that ire couldn’t sever the connection pulling the pair together like magnets.
He knew what she was capable of by now – she’d broken enough of his bones and left him enough bruises to know it. He was all too aware of the fact that she could quite literally hurl him off her and across the parking lot with one paltry flick of the wrist pinned beneath his calloused hand – but she wasn’t. Despite all the rational parts of his brain currently switching off to hand control over to his raw instinct and desire, the thought occurred to him that she was allowing him to do this – to throw her up against the wall and ravish her mouth ; that she desired it, even, a fact made even more evident to him as her lithe, sallow body rose up to meet the hard lines of his own, her shallow, bony hips arching against him in a deliberate grind.
That none-too-subtle motion coupled with the delicious knowledge that she could literally break his arms the moment she decided to – the danger and eroticism of it sent his eyes rolling up into the back of his head and a rush of blood surging down between his hips. He shifted hard against the invitation of her body like a violently churning sea, relinquishing his grasp on her wrists and dropping his broad hands down to seize her hips. She weighed next to nothing, a sharp contrast to the unholy strength that the coin warming her cold chest was providing her – light as a feather, and he moved her as such, lifting her up by her willowy hips as easily as lifting a child. His attentions were rough and unforgiving – a reflection of the vehement relationship that had existed between them so far, his long fingers wrapping boldly around the curve of her rear as he braced her up against the wall, pinning her shallow, stitched chest beneath his expansive one and forcing her gaunt legs around the hard angle of his hips as he pressed the buckle of his belt right up against her apex. What little weight she had balanced on his hips as he shamelessly delivered a buck against her, all the while never straying more than an inch away from her mouth before diving back in, responding to the desperate plea of her own breathless lips by tilting his chin to deepen the kiss, swallowing her teeth and tongue and driving his body against her as though even a breath of space between them was too much to suffer.
this wasnt right.. she shouldnt be doing this. her husband , shadow , flashed in her mind like a bright red fucking stop sign; her sun-- her everything-- her reason to pursue life again. it always seemed like he was a daydream to her, beautiful and desired but always out of her reach. ( BU - BUMP ) then the feeling of a brisk beard brushing against her chin brought her back to reality. her lips locked with sweeneys’, the taste of whiskey and cigarettes lingering from him. ( BU - BUMP ) the overwhelming and addicting sensation of her heart pulsing in her chest bursting through her-- this definitely wasnt right. the last thing she should be doing is letting this irish fucker kiss her... yet, she couldnt help herself. her judgement and self control has always been for shit. and something about this leprechaun made her heart race. her blood boil. it was a blur between anger and lust but , goddamn it , either way it made her feel alive again. and she was too selfish to stop herself from taking it.
those pinned hands lightly struggled against him; there was a force behind them but it was controlled. the strength easily being overpowered by his. her damaged and broken nails digging into what flesh she could reach of his. clawing it him. fighting with the urge not to throw him. her mind and body clearly struggling , yet , her body was clearly winning. her lips meeting his, overlapping with his. each kiss full of desire, want and need. each passing moment more of her sensations would return to her; smell , taste , touch. she could FEEL her heart beating in her chest. all of her hesitation being erased from her mind, her own selfish lust taking over. her small frame pressing up against him , rolling her hips towards him in a not too subtle hint for MORE.
as soon as he released her, those hands would drop to claim more skin; one lacing in his fiery hair with a firm grip, the other around his shoulder to claw at his back. the feeling his hands gripping into her hips forced a coo from her lips. the harsh pressure of his thumbs digging into her hip bones making her shiver. that was a sensation she MISSED. as if on queue, once he went to lift her she assisted with a small hop ( but he made it very clear it wasnt needed ). her legs instantly wrapping around his hips and pulling him tightly against her. completely pinned against the wall by him. the feeling of his hips then grinding into her core making her moan into his lip. the pleasure of it was almost overwhelming her cold and stale body. she could feel herself growing slick with wanton. her hips shamelessly meeting his and grinding deeply into them. she wanted him aroused, she wanted to feel the silhouette of his dick against her. the hand in his hair gripped tighter as he kissed her more deeply. her tongue lapping at his, wanting his taste to fill her mouth. she wanted to drink him in. lips demanding him not to stop as her legs encouraged him to buck more.
He relinquished a groan as she finally alleviated the pressure, her cool, sour breath washing over his nostrils as they flared with pain, expression twisted in an amalgamation of agony and relief as he slid back down against the wall – Christ !! The crown of his head kissed the wall as he sucked down air into his lungs through clenched teeth, nursing the throbbing apex of his legs with a guarded palm before turning his vengeful gaze on her once again – god what he wouldn’t give to rip that fuckin’ coin right out of her decomposing chest. If it wasn’t supplying her with such ungodly strength, then he might’ve had a chance at it
…but no. He knew it wasn’t true. It had to be freely given – rules were rules. And even if they could be broken …he knew that he wouldn’t have the heart to do so. He’d already proved that by dropping the coin back through the rattle of her open rib cage instead of stuffing it back in his pocket and leaving this whole fuckin shit show behind him. Something undefinable passed behind the veil of his expression, buried beneath bluster and hate ( things he could understand and deal with easier ) as he passed her a self-satisfied sneer.
❝ – didn’t know my ‘umble opinion meant
so much ta ya, dearly departed.
Self confidence startin’ ta slide
off yer bones with yer meat?❞
that small satisfied smile would stay on her cold dead lips as she watched him slowly slide and drop down the ice cream truck’s wall. her gaze following him down as he groaned in pain and rubbed at the wounded area ( tending to it like some pathetic hurt animal ). it was as if he had to check if his “ parts “ were still there.
‘ dont worry -- you’re still a boy.. i didnt make you a ken doll .. yet. ‘
laura would make no moves to help him, she would just wait for his next snarky comment. as if it was on queue, her eyes rolled as he spoke. she would then slowly bend down to crouch in front of him, now at eye level with the weeping man.
' it doesn't , pumpkin. I just wanted you to be honest with yourself.. and my confidence is fine, thanks for the concern. '
the tone was laced with sarcasm. she then tsked lightly, sending a false sympathetic look his way. like she was sorry for his pain. she wouldn't comment on the matter of her meat sliding off of her bones part. it wasn't like he offended her, she just knew he was right. ( not that she had to let him know that -- ) it was only a matter of time before her rotting flesh begins to liquefy and melt off of her like some fucked up cone of ice cream on a hot summer day. even now she would already feel changes within her body ; the maggots within her chest , the stitching over her chest becoming loose and worn , her body slowly beginning to decay and stop responding to her. she was a ticking time bomb. but that wasn't going to ruin or mood or stop her from fighting it.
shit, if she had to drag her limbless corpse across the finish line, she would.. whatever that finish line might be.
' come on , dickhead. get up already. we need to get moving. '
oh , he crossed a fucking line -- those words set fire to her skin. her gaze was sharp ; she was sending daggers through her eyes. a stare of fiery violence that could cut right through him. he clearly was dancing on thin ice, a touchy subject for the corpse ; shadow. her purpose, her light -- her S U N .. of course, that is what she thought him to be. he was the only thing that made her cold dead heart beat with life again. WAS being the key word there. but with every passing day his light grew weaker and weaker. she couldnt tell if it was distance dimming his light or passion.
the vexing look paused a moment as she took a closer look at the leprechaun. his gaze hinting at something else and suddenly his words had a double meaning to her. from pissed to intrigued, her brow slightly cocked. she was still pissed, but it was a different anger now. she no longer had the urge to rip his dick off and force him to eat it, it was a different feeling now. the sensation rushing through her body, she could almost feel her neck hairs stand and her skin bump ( ghost of a feeling with her dead flesh ) . she would study him a moment further before leaning in to whisper her retort. his pants echoed from her between each word.
‘ fucking prove it . ‘
a challenge ? yes. that heat behind his fury was clear as day. and for some reason she wanted to push it. her arms were about to cross over her small waist in a defiant pose to wait for his next verbal response -- BUT. his next response wasnt verbal. his assault completely caught the cautious girl off guard. a muffled ‘ mmph - ! ‘ being heard as his lips captured hers. the arms that were going to fold now in a frozen hover of a pitiful defense. they were easily captured and pinned, she hardly even felt the scrape of the bricks. it was almost as if her body had to take a moment to reboot. the senses awakening as a rush of sensation wash over that she could FEEL - a thud from her chest striking through her like a bolt of lightning. his passion breathing life into her - what a longed and forgotten feeling. her own selfish need and desire taking over as she returned his kiss. her lips pressing against his, overlapping even. welcoming his tongue into her decaying lips. her small frame rolling against his with wanton and desire. craving the taste of life again.
Maybe some small part of him hoped to die in the imminent battle that Wednesday was brewing – maybe in his heart, he felt that he’d cheated his rightful death all those years ago when he’d gazed into the fireside and tucked his tail to run. Maybe some fragment of his soul was lowering his head and charging headlong toward his own demise – but there was absolutely NO part of him that wanted to die this way, strung up by the fuckin’ balls on the ungodly strong hand of some undead bitch. Squirming with agony as she tightened her vice-like grip to a degree that he felt his knobs might explode beneath the pressure even through his thick jeans, he yelped out a string of expletives in both English and his native tongue. Out of sheer instinct his thick, calloused fingers snapped down around her slender wrist in a frantic ( but ultimately vain ) attempt to dislodge her.
❝ – ah, fuck ! Aiteann !! You goddamn – what the fuck
do ya want me ta say, huh ?? Ya got fine ass !!
Maybe ye’d have got my blood pumpin’ when
there was still some in yer own, alright ??
MERCY ALREADY !!❞
He bayed through grit teeth, kicking the table at his back with a loud clang to emphasize the great deal of pain her spindly digits were wracking him with – the ruthless harpy!
twist and squeeze -- she was treating his sack like it was a pair of stress balls. clenching them between her claws and rolling them like some toy. they were soft and pliable unlike the hard metal the usual shitty asian souvenir was made with.
‘ what was that ? ‘
as interesting as his native tongue was, he wasnt getting off that easy. his pained curses only making her grip more intense, her arm even shifting him to pull him forward and slam him back against the wall again. it wasnt until she heard his confession would her onslaught waiver. her smile returning as she looked up at him, studying his expression. she wouldnt release him right away, she would wait a moment before removing her grip making sure to give him a patronizing pat on the tortured crotch. then she would release and step back. her head leaning in, following him as he slid down the wall.
‘ there we go .. -- now was that so hard ? i knew you had it in you. ‘
That smile that wormed its way onto her face like the maggots that were likely squirming around in her lungs made something heavy turn over in his stomach in the most unsettling way – and though he vied to bar any semblance of emotion from his expression, he couldn’t help but curse himself internally when she shifted and began to move towards him and he heard the boisterous clatter of his hand immediately bracing against the shelve at his back, knocking over a handful of attachments to the ice cream truck’s slurry dispenser ; FUCK. Fuck this woman – fuck him. Fuck everything about this fucking situation, all to fuckin’ hell.
The cursing quickly made the transition from mental to verbal as her unholy strong, ice cold digits came flat against the crotch of his jeans, open palm before seizing up around his – Jesus !! His opposite hand braced itself against the cool metal of the table ( warm in comparison to her frigid hands that chilled him even through the thick denim ) as he moved in a frantic but ultimately vain attempt to scramble up the table and out of her grip – no dice. Not except for his own, that is, settled just an inch too fucking tight in her smug, undead fingers. His breath left him in rapid passes through his clenched teeth, panic and fury and something yet to be defined buried beneath them all married in his expression as he chuffed down at her, seething – his luck was for shit. So he knew before the words even left his lips that he was probably going to regret pushing it like he was probably about to.
❝ – shit !!! Fucking – Christ! – didn’t realize ye
were that hard up fer dick, already, corpse bride.
But I’m not sure this is the fuckin’ tree ya wanna
be barkin’ up ! ❞
studying his expression, she watched the transition from nervous to panic carefully. his uncertain fear not slowing her or making her hesitate. she made a beeline for him, the only thing stopping her onslaught was the contact. her decision was clear and confidently done, she was clearly not intimidated by the much taller male. her new strength making the emotionally stunted girl even more fearless. ( all thanks to his luck ~ ) a small clap being heard as she slapped her hand onto him; cupping and gripping him, her frail arm twisting with the grip. her head tilting as she looked up at him, lips parted as she took in his pained reaction. the eerie smile holding as he spoke. this was obviously not enough pain for the leprecunt --
‘ the only one barking here is you, puppy. ‘ howling in pain. the endearing term that she usually used towards her husband now used as a clear taunt. her tone almost empathetic, tsking him.
‘ you and i both know if i wanted dick that badly i would just twist and pluck it from you -- like an apple from a tree. ‘ her sentence was emphasized with a soft hiss of a grunt as she gripped tighter - her wrist being to twist his fruit. ‘ and i think i would pass on firecrotch - thanks. ‘
‘now go on. tell me how you really feel about my ass. ‘
He emphasized his point by tipping back the silver slope of his flask and downing another mouthful of poison. Of course, it was hard to deny that she had held her shape fairly well in spite of being dead in the technical sense; he’d be a liar if he renounced ever having caught himself lingering on the admittedly appealing curve of her rear – he was a man, after all. But he’d sooner slit his own tongue from his mouth than admit it to her smug, smirking facet. It was much easier to point out her shortcomings than to acknowledge her …advantages.
❝ …smell a’ formaldehyde and rottin’ flesh tends
ta turn a man soft. Case ya hadn’t heard. ❞
instantly, her eyes would roll in irritation. of course he would deny it now. deny it and remind her of her current state. if she had air in her lungs, a vexing sigh would have left her cold, dry lips. her brows lifting as she gave him the most hostile of stares ( her gaze could cut his flesh -- ) . this is why it was hard for her to be nice to him. but that glare would drop, an oddly misplaced smile now covering her lips. the smaller girl now walking over to him ; closing the gap between them.
‘ good thing i am not trying to make you hard ... -- huh ? ‘ the last syllable was emphasized with a nice slap straight between his legs. her eye contact keeping as she held onto him. eire smile still on her lips.
‘ no need to be shy leprechaun , you can admit to it. ‘
❝ – I picked yer obituary he was cryin’ inta his drink
o'er and said it was a damn shame; you were a
fine piece of ass. Actually, I just said you were
a ‘fine piece of–’ S'all I got out ‘fore he rung my
bell. Clocked me good, he did. He box? Sure
fuckin’ felt like it. ❞
He rotated his jaw, as if recalling the phantom pain.
a soft tsk fell from her lips as she shook her head, chiding him at first. a ghost of a smile then taking her lips. ooh her puppy ; even in her death he protected her honor. ( he was to good for her ) but that wasnt the only thing that brought that smug little smirk onto her cold lips.
‘ shadow ? yea.. he went to the gym almost everyday. he is a great fighter. i’m sure you were .. enlightened .. about that. ‘
‘ fine piece of ass, huh ? so that is what you think of me ? i never met a necrophiliac before. i guess leprechauns are into some weird shit. ‘
Wisps of smoke drifted from the tip of his cigarette, like spindly fingers curling up toward the sky before peeling apart and vanishing into the cold, open air. Another fucking prayer break in another goddamn field in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. If they had to make one more stop so the friggin’ cab driver could bow in twelve different directions he was gonna blow a fuckin’ gasket. But since the little twerp was being such a prude about cigarettes in the car, at least these pauses gave him a chance to have a smoke.
A deep, heavy sigh was exhumed from the depths of his lungs, spilling the toxic smog out over the side of the road. His shoulders braced against the passenger side of the cab, he folded his arms tightly over his chest to guard it against cold that slowly began to settle over the open road, threatening to creep down into his bones. His pale blue stare carried out over the field, taking in everything and… nothing all at once, his chapped lips thinning around the filter of his cigarettes as he took another drag and released the bitter swill in a muttered curse directed at the presence approaching him from the hood of the cab– though he never spared her a glance.
another pit stop for another prayer that would fall on deaf ears.. or would it ? dull eyes watched in deep contemplation at the kneeling believer. when she was alive she might have been so bold ( so rude ) to inform of his silly silence cry for help. but now after what she has been through.. what she had witnessed; scales , life after death , ‘ leprechauns ‘ FUCK -- she was forced to look at this in a different light than before. though, she almost envied him. but the most potent feeling ( as strong as this corpse could feel, that is ) was admiration. though, she would mistake that feeling for pity instead.
admiring him or not - the length of time that was needed for this was starting to lightly irritate her. a breathless sigh left her cold lips as she then shifted from her car seat and opened her door. that was enough spying on the harmless cab driver. time to check on her questionable guide... who seemed to already be greeting her with the kindest pleasantries as usual. her eyes rolled light before looking up to him.
‘ a deep and meaningful conversation about feelings -- ‘
‘ the fuck do you think i want ? ... i just need a cigarette. i ran out. ‘
her tone was drenched with sarcasm, her hands lifting in defense to emphasize it. her dead eyes casting him a questionable look before continuing her approach to him. a thud from the car door being heard as she towards him. instead of standing before him, the small zombie seated herself at the hood of the car. her eyes not leaving him, now just watching him expectantly for her cigarette.
