#there's not a lot that can cut a soul-bond though :)

[fatestouch]

Are you all okay?

"We're fine... I think. No one's hurt... on our end, anyway."

Good... Mama started getting worried when she couldn't hear His Majesty all of a sudden.

"Mhm, I think they cut off all magical communications. Our scrying crystals aren't working either."

Suspicious...

"Right? Can you See anything?"

There's too many possibilities bouncing around... I'll have to get the others' help for it.

"Nah, it's fine... if His Majesty wanted you to, he would've told me to tell you already."

True. I'm just happy I can still hear you. If we were cut off...

"Hey, I thought I was supposed to be the anxious one. There's nothing that'll ever keep me from you."

Sappy birdie~...

"Your sappy birdie~"

Just stay safe, okay~?

#v; royal au #Death IC;; #Fortune IC;; #magical communication is cut off yes #there's not a lot that can cut a soul-bond though :) #and i love these kids what can i say

[prythianpages]

Wanna Be Yours | Part Two

Rhysand x Reader | Rhysand is absolutely smitten with you and you appear to be blind from it.

This is a part two to this. You can find the masterlist to keep track of future parts here.

warnings: none

a/n: I use a prompt from the lovely @thepromptswhisperer . you can find the post here. I bolded & italicized the dialogue I used from it.

The secrets that Rhysand holds in his heart are harder to hide than he thought. He can’t help it. His heartbeat is at its peak whenever you speak or simply look his way. The weight of his confession persists, akin to an inconsolable ache nestled in his chest, right above the delicate golden thread that intimately connects his soul to yours. 

Three months have passed since that night—the night when he found himself grappling with delirium, induced by the venom coursing through his veins. It was the result of a miscalculated move when patrolling the Night Court’s borders. His injuries, though not fatal, seemed insurmountable due to the poison's cruel deception that night. In a panic, he insisted on seeing you and only you. If he were to face oblivion, he wanted you to be the last person he saw.

The poison, however, proved powerless against your skill. You healed him and brought him back from the brink. "I think I might be in love with you," were the words he had uttered to you and though he was lucid, he meant them. Wholeheartedly.

And now, there's no uncertainty. He is in love with you. The Cauldron may have destined you two together but Rhysand is beyond doubt that he would love you, bond or no bond. You’re beautiful, sweet and kind. Everything he could ever dream of, and dream of you he has done. A lot. 

Rhysand wonders if you dream of him too. If you think about him as much as he thinks about you. He wished he had been there to see your reaction when opening his gift but you had been busy all day. It sparked a worry in him that you were being overworked. Then, his own duties got in the way, leaving him with no choice but to leave it at your door. You had greeted him the following morning when you went to check up on him. The smile you graced him with in appreciation for the gift was as golden and glorious as the sun itself. One he wants more of.

You have him wrapped around your finger and you don’t even know…

“Whiskey for your thoughts?”

Dragging himself away from the labyrinth of his thoughts, Rhysand brings himself back to the sitting room of his house. He accepts the glass of golden brown liquid from Cassian with gratitude, leaning back into the soft cushion of his chair. 

“I miss her.”

Azriel’s shadows seem to flicker with a knowing gleam. He doesn’t have to ask to know who Rhysand is referring to.  “It’s only been a couple of days.”

“A couple days too long,” Rhysand replies with a sigh, prompting a chuckle from Cassian. As he swirls the liquid in his glass, mirroring the stirring emotions within him, his usually composed facade begins to waver. “She’s my mate.”

“We know,” Cassian grins, though it’s the first time Rhysand has said it. A quick exchange of glances with Azriel makes Cassian shrink back sheepishly, putting on a surprised expression. “Sorry, I mean. What??”

Rhysand glances between Azriel and Cassian. “You know?”

Cassian and Azriel exchange another guilty glance before Azriel turns to Rhysand. “We suspected,” he replies.

“You’re not exactly subtle, you know. We also heard your confession–ow!” Cassian's words were cut short as he shot Azriel a glare, rubbing his arm.

Rhysand arched an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and disbelief in his eyes. He takes a sip of his drink, the corners of his lips lifting into a wry smile. "How is it that you two heard, but she didn’t?" he asks, his tone taking on a solemn note.

“I invited her to dinner and you know what she did?” Rhysand doesn’t wait for his brothers to reply to continue. “She brought Madja and another healer with her. Thought it was a group dinner. I bought her flowers and she handed them out to her patients. Thought I had given them to the infirmary, not her. I asked her to join me for a coffee but she said she was busy and I do believe her–there’s been a nasty flu going around. By the Cauldron, is she even taking care of herself? Maybe, I should pretend to be sick just to get her to see me…”

Rhysand downs the remainder of his drink, the burn in his throat paling in comparison to the burning he feels for you. Turning to Azriel, his eyes sparkle with determination.

“Hit me.”

Azriel chokes on his drink and Cassian grimaces as droplets land on his arm. “What?”

“C’mon. I’m sure you’ve been longing for it, especially after I sent you to parole the Illyrian camps last week,” Rhysand says with a smirk. He then angles his head, giving Azriel perfect access. He taps his jaw. “Hit me. Hard. So that I don’t heal as quickly.”

“Why aren’t you asking me?” Cassian asks, tone on the brink of offense. “I can give you a nasty black eye!”

Rhysand is about to reply when a shiver runs through the air. The room then falls into silence. Rhysand feels something teasing at the edges of his senses. His eyes, aglow with the ethereal light of night, narrow. There’s an unsettling disturbance within the rhythmic pulse of his court. An intruder.

Azriel’s shadows pick up on the stirrings of Rhysand’s instincts. He’s rising from his seat, ready to take on the uninvited presence. However, Rhysand, swifter than a fleeting shadow, vanishes into the embrace of the dark night before Azriel can.

**

There’s a knock on your door and you pull your gaze away from the gold trinket box Rhysand gifted you. Carefully placing it back onto your nightstand, you make your way toward the door. Madja, your mentor, is on the other side. She holds a faelight in the palm of her hand that highlights the gentle contours of her face. The small smile on her lips speaks volumes and you don’t have to ask why she’s coming for you in the late hour. Still, you can’t help but voice your curiosity as she guides you to the foyer of the infirmary.

“What is it this time?” 

“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure.”

You smile in greeting to the Shadowsinger who is waiting for you. He nods his head at you and without a word, offers his arm. Madja calls out words of encouragement to you. 

Azriel’s shadows wrap around you both and winnow you to Rhysand’s private residence. A beautiful and vast estate nestled in the heart of Velaris. He guides you to Rhysand’s room, though you know your way around well. As your hand reaches for his bedroom’s door, Azriel’s voice stops you.

“I must warn you…he’s in a mood.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you say, echoing Madja’s words from earlier. It’s more to reassure yourself than him. Azriel only smiles at you in response.

Rhysand’s room is spacious–a sanctuary of regal splendor. Its walls are bathed in a deep shade reminiscent of midnight and adorned with tapestries of celestial landscapes. Everything about the room reflects the refined taste and mystical elegance of its inhabitant and what a mystery he is to you. The High Lord of the Night Court is the most powerful in Prythian history. To many, he is careless and as cold as the winds from the Illyrian mountains. 

Only those dear to him know the truth of his nature. You still can’t wrap your head around as to why he chose to let you see the man behind the mask. Perhaps, it’s all attributed to your power but with Madja living here, you don’t quite understand the need for two healers in Velaris.

“Daybreak.”

Rhysand looks like a dream. 

He stands under the gracefully arched openings of his balcony.  Wispy curtains sway with the gentle night breeze, carrying with them the intoxicating fragrance of citrus and sea that caresses your senses. As moonlight spills into the room, it bathes him in a stellar glow, causing his membranous wings to dance in magnificent midnight hues. You can’t help but wonder which is more beautiful–the breathtaking view of the Court of Dreams from his balcony or him.

A stifled sound from Rhysand pulls you out of your trance, blinking away a gentle intrusion you felt in your mind.

“I have a name, you know,” you remind him.

“I know.” Though his back is to you, you can hear the smirk in his voice.

He turns to face you and you pick up on the telltale signs of subtle surrender in the slump of his shoulders. His wings vanish and your eyes trace down to his chest, where he cradles a feebly wrapped arm. A subdued darkness stains the light bandage. As your eyes lift back up to his face, his lips press together into a fine line.

“Come,” you say as you motion for him to sit. With a casual flick of your wrist, your first aid kit materializes from the pocket realm, settling gracefully onto his desk.  “May I?”

Rhysand promptly slips his shirt off before extending his injured arm to you with a nod. You arch a brow. “You didn’t have to take off your shirt.”

“It’s warm here,” he protests, though a mischievous glint dances in those violet eyes of his. He leans back into his desk chair, manspreading those glorious sweat clad thighs of his. “Feel free to admire me, darling,” he smirks at you and you force yourself to look away only to catch his biceps tensing with purpose.

“You’re blushing.” He muses, his eyes tracing every nuance of your reaction. 

“Yeah, so? Never seen anyone fall for your charm before?” You retort, feigning nonchalance. Internally, you’re cursing the way your blush deepens and the way your stomach flutters at the sound of his laughter. It’s deep and alluring, wrapping around you like a sweet melody. You’d think after months of knowing him, you’d be immune to his shameless flirting.

Focus, you remind yourself as you do your best to ignore the playful smirk that continues to grace his luscious lips. So much for Azriel’s claim of Rhysand being in a mood. Whatever had soured his temper must’ve gone away, you think. Despite his injury, he looks perfectly fine to you. 

You gently grasp his forearm and begin to unwrap the bandage carefully. The scent of antiseptic mingles with the warm, earthy undertones of his skin. Up close, the flush of his cheeks become more pronounced and the thin sheet of sweat glistens on his tattooed chest. Your keen eyes immediately pick up on the black ink trickling from the small wounds on his arm. Recognition dawns in your eyes.

“These are puncture wounds from a Puca.”

“Very astute of you, darling.” 

A furrow appears on your brow as curiosity mingles with bewilderment. You can't fathom how a Puca, a dangerous creature that roams throughout Prythian, managed to get this close to someone as powerful and even more dangerous as Rhysand. 

“What did it appear to you as?”

Rhysand's demeanor undergoes a shift. A-ha, there is that sour mood you had been expecting. Something akin to embarrassment flickers in the depths of his violet eyes. He instinctively pulls his arm back, but you tighten your hold, silently demanding an explanation.

"They say that a Puca uses your own desires to lure you and then eat you," you remark, your tone a mix of caution and concern.

Rhysand, attempting to maintain an air of nonchalance, hums thoughtfully. "Is that so?"

You drop your gaze as your hands fall into the familiar rhythm of tending to his injuries. “Azriel said you were in a mood so whatever it appeared to you as, must’ve been something for it to get you this go—“

“You.”

Confusion clouds your expression, and your glowing hands still. "What?"

You can feel the warmth of his gaze, a sharp intensity that lingers on you. "It appeared as you."

A moment of silence stretches between you two. The corner of Rhysand’s lips quirk up, the silver fleck of his violet irises sparkling with a mix of amusement and something more elusive. His gaze holds yours and there’s the slightest hint of vulnerability beneath his charismatic exterior. One you don’t catch.

"You flatter me," you finally say with a soft laugh, not believing him for one bit. 

And all Rhysand can do is look at you in bewildered wonder as your hands continue to move with deliberate care. He needs to try harder.

**

Days later…

Come back home.

Those three words stare back at you. Haunting and persistent. "Home," you quietly muse to yourself.  Dawn is your home. Or so you once believed. 

A home is meant to be a sanctuary. A place of safety. A place of comfort. Over time, it transformed from your sweet haven into a source of distress. But if Dawn is no longer your home, then what is? 

Is it the Night Court? You don't feel suffocated with high expectations here. The nights may be dark, but the stars shine their brightest here. They watch over you, listening to your silent whispers. There is a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows, almost like a sense of belonging.

You crumple the letter, the tangible weight of memories folding with it. Time is healing, you remind yourself. With a heavy sigh, you turn back to the stack of books and paperwork on your desk. Yesterday had been a slow day in the clinic so Madja asked for you to accompany her while she bought supplies. She treated you to a nice dinner afterwards. It was a much needed break but now, you found yourself behind in your studies and patient’s charts.

With a glance toward your desk candle, you use your powers to light it up. Leaning forward slightly, you fix your gaze on your first report with a strong determination to finish the stack by the end of your shift. No distra–

A knock echoes through the slightly ajar door.

Your office door is deliberately left open, a practice maintained for moments just like this - in case a patient requires urgent attention. While there’s a room in the clinic set up with rows of cots and medical equipment, your office provides an additional space for those seeking a more private examination.

"Hello, daybreak.”

Rhysand strides in, his easy confidence filling the small space of your office. You glance up only momentarily before returning your attention to the task at hand, responding with a dry humor that matches his tone.

"Hello, High Lord. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Rhysand tilts his head, his gaze lingering on you. Moving with quiet elegance, he walks past the examination table and approaches your desk instead. His attention is immediately drawn to a book resting on top of one of the many stacks. A poetry book, he recognizes, adorned with a delicate cobalt blue ribbon. 

“What’s this?”

“A gift from Azriel,” you reply casually and miss the way his face twists at the nonchalance of your tone.

 Rhysand blinks at you. “A what?”

“A book. That Azriel got. For me.” You repeat, deliberately slower this time. 

Rhysand heard you perfectly well the first time. His eyebrows knit together as he gazes at the book, a storm brewing in his expressive eyes. If looks could scorch, the innocent book would be reduced to a pile of ashes. Your birthday is months away and Solstice was weeks ago. 

“I’m hurt.”

You look up, keen eyes glancing over his form again. “You don’t look hurt.”

Undeterred, he saunters closer, swiping a deliberate finger across the papers on your desk. "Come on, surely you can spare a moment for a poor High Lord in deep pain."

You inspect his outstretched hand, where a barely visible mark is displayed on his pointer finger. "It's a papercut," you deadpan. 

“It hurts.”

"It's already healed."

Rhysand dramatically lets out a deep sigh and you suppress the urge to smile. The sound of a bell ringing–a sign that someone is in need of help–has you rising from your seat. You walk toward Rhysand, who continues to brood. Holding his gaze, you bring his hand to your mouth and press a light kiss right over where the papercut had been.

“There.” You say, giving his hand a squeeze. “Feel better now?”

Every nerve in his body tingles with excitement, and there's a giddy flutter in his stomach. “Much better,” Rhysand breathes with a grin, savoring your touch.

He doesn’t allow your hand to drop, brushing it over his cheek instead and holding it there with his own. If you can’t see the flush to his cheeks, then surely you must be able to feel its warmth.

“How can I ever repay you?”

“You’re already paying me,” you remind him with a soft exhale, a laugh almost. The sound is music to Rhysand's ears and all his heart wants to do is dance to its rhythm. He realizes he can’t let this moment slip. Not when he finally has your full attention and a golden opportunity to seek more of it.

“You can come with me to the Midnight Eclipse ball.”

“Midnight Eclipse ball,” you repeat, your voice laced with intrigue, and Rhysand can't help but admire the way your eyes gleam with curiosity. “What is that?”

“Come with me and find out,” Rhysand replies, his eyes sparkling at you. He leans in closer, captivated by the softness of your gaze, and with a smile, he boldly adds, “As my date.”

“Your date?” you ask, your breath catching slightly. 

Rhysand only hums in reply, taking pleasure in the way his cheek presses further against your hand as he does so. The look he gives you is almost pleading as he gazes down at you. 

“Okay,” you finally say after a moment of silence with a small smile of your own. “I’ll join you. When is it?”

Rhysand beams down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and anticipation. Shifting his face in your hold, he presses a gentle kiss against the palm of your hand and now it is you who is overcome with a giddy flutter in your stomach. Rhysand, normally attuned to your every shift in expression, is too caught up in surprise to take note of it.

“Next Saturday,” he replies, holding your gaze.

The bell rings again, the sound prompting Rhysand to reluctantly let go of your hand. You give him an apologetic smile as you turn toward your desk, grabbing a couple of supplies. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”

You excuse yourself, walking around him to exit your office. Rhysand follows but chooses to lean against your doorframe, watching as you rush toward the infirmary.

“Don’t forget, it’s a date!” Rhysand calls after you, putting emphasis on the word ‘date.’

“Yes, I got it!” You reply, giving him a thumbs up before disappearing around the corner.

Rhysand smiles to himself. Though Saturday is almost five days away, he doesn’t mind the wait. Not when you just agreed to be his date. He looks down at the hand you kissed, closing it into a fist, overwhelmed with the giddy excitement building up inside him. You’re so utterly endearing. He brings his fist close to his mouth, suppressing the urge to bite it as he swoons over the thought of having you as his date for the Midnight Eclipse ball.

Reality begins to set in and his smile widens into a grin. Now, he has to plan the ball he literally just made up…

a/n: tbh, I don't know how I feel about this part. I feel like I set up expectations too high for myself because I really loved how the first part turned out and this part is kinda meh to me. anyway, I hope you still enjoyed this. I'm looking forward to writing the other part(s) as those include scenes I've had in my head for weeeeeeks lol. (You'll finally learn the little secret or two reader is hiding in the next part...any guesses? )I estimate only like 1-2 parts left, depending on how long the next part is.

tagging: @minnieoo , @phoenixgurl030, @nebarious, @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand imagine #rhysand fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #acotar x you #rhys wby au

[mulansaucey]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts.

Azriel x Reader

Prompt: Rita has a new supply of Moonshine and gives a jar to the IC. This creates a blacked out drunk Azriel.

Warnings: alcohol use, flirting, suggestive, mentions of sex, drunken behavior. Let me know if I left anything out.

Note: Literally sitting in bed when I had this idea. This is just for fun and I hope you enjoy!

Music playing in the halls of Rita’s surrounds the Inner Circle as well as laughter. Shot glasses banging against their table, squeals of joy from seeing the glasses of those pretty cocktails that Feyre and Mor like so much, and the beautiful smile that graces my mates face. Tonight is for fun and bonding.

Azriel has been on a month long mission just returning to me a few days ago where we cooped up in our cozy home, enjoying the song of our mating bond before returning to society. When he’s gone, there’s a hole in my chest. Color, music, art becomes void. Life is not as exciting without him by my side. Even after decades of being married and mated the bond is still alive and thriving as if it was still the night he took a bite out of that meal I made him to accept him as my mate.

I’m an accomplished fae. I’ve strategized wars, wrote countless books on the plant life of Prythian that has helped healers cultivate new medicines, and have helped the Inner Circle for almost two centuries now. When he’s away, I keep myself occupied and have my job to thank for that but that aching feeling doesn’t go away.

That’s the strength of a mating bond, it brings males to their knees. It brought Azriel to his. Our souls submitting to one another and refusing to settle for anything less than each other.

“What’s so interesting, love?” Azriel teases as I can’t my eyes off him. Those hazel eyes trail over me, even in the haze of faelights it feels like he can see every inch of me. He bites his lip as if he’s recalling just a few hours ago when he was biting the meat of my thighs. I know I am. Heat rises in my cheeks as he laughs and leans down to the leg of my chair and pulls me closer to him. The bond between thrums with satisfaction that our beings are even closer now. His hand finds the back of my neck and he caresses.

“You, my heart. I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you.” I tease him back.

The shots making my mind looser and my flirty tendencies arise. I’m a horny drunk when it comes to this male. Who wouldn’t?

Azriel raises his brows and smirks. He leans down to press a sweet kiss then pulls back.

“You are lovely in this dress. I can’t wait to rip it off you tonight.” He says as he presses sweet kisses along my cheek and jaw.

“Azriel you better not! It’s embarrassing having to keep going to the tailor because you have no self control.”

“Self control? We’ll see how much self control I have later, you’ll begging for me I promise you that.” He laughs.

Suddenly a heavy presence can be felt behind us. I don’t even have to turn to know it’s Cassian.

He slaps the back of Azriel’s chair and loudly yells, “Stop the heavy petting and come to the bar, Rita just got a new drink called ‘Moonshine’ it’s apparently a lot stronger than any wine or whiskey.”

Cassian doesn’t wait for an answer and picks me up while yelling over his shoulder, “If you want her, Az you gotta come get her!” We leave a trail of giggles as my grumpy mate follows.

Azriel trusts his brother and knows Cassian just missed him and wants to have fun. It’s why he doesn’t cut off his hands for touching my body.

Cassian drops me on a bar stool and leans over to drop a sloppy kiss to Nesta’s cheek as she bats him. From the corner of my eye though I can see her pulling him back to her to give him a proper kiss. I’m happy for my friends as they had a very tumultuous start to their mate ship. As I’m trying not to be nosy in my friends business Azriel comes to stand behind me, strategically blocking me from any other males or females view. Azriel is selfish when it comes to me. I can’t blame him, he’s waited centuries for me. And I him.

Rita walks up to us with a jar of clear liquid. It looks innocent, like water, but knowing her that liquid will make you regret ever being born. But that’s the appeal to Rita. She knows how to have fun and has quality supply.

“Alright ladies and gentlebats this is Moonshine. It’s technically whiskey but its process makes the alcohol stronger and you drunker quicker. I will give you a shot, on the house, if you like it I’ll sell a jar to you. This stuff is no joke and illegal in some courts. More recently our High Lord and Lady gave me the okay to produce it.” Rita winks to Feyre and Rhys.

We all look over them and Rhys shrugs, “Feyre wanted to try it, I couldn’t say no.”

We all laugh at the lack of ability our friend has to say no to his wife. I see Feyre eye the glass with excitement.

“Feyre you do the honors of first shot!” I yell out as she takes the glass and downs it in one gulp.

She freezes and we wait on bated breath. Her eye twitches and she gives a full body shiver. We break in laughter at her funny reaction as she immediately takes her fruity cocktail from Rhys, who was mid sip, and takes a few gulps.

Feyre’s face twist in disgust as she tells us, “That’ll definitely get you fucked up, I feel like I’ve grown chest hair.”

Laughter fills our area again. Rhys presses a kiss against Feyre’s head as he reaches for his own shot glass. Each of us besides Amren and Varian, who are currently in Summer, reach for our own. I clank my shot glass against Azriel’s and down my shot. I immediately regret this decision as pure alcohol burns my throat. It’s worse than the tonics Madja gives us. At least we get some what rewarded for that. I put my glass down and look over at my mate. His free hand softly rubbing my upper back, he downs the shot and smack his lips.

“It’s definitely strong but I don’t mind it.” Azriel says to the group.

I pout at him and say, “Of course it doesn’t bother you, Shadowsinger.” He rolls his eyes and moves his hand from the back of my neck to the front. Slowly moving my head back so far I have no choice but to look at him and only him.

“It’s Shadowsinger now is it?” He smirks down at me. Before I can reply peanuts that Rita supplies generously across her bar are being pelted at us. Azriel loosens his hold on me as we both turn to our family.

“You two are like bunnies, I feel like I need to spray you two with a bottle of water.” Nesta says.

I gasp and laugh out, “Like you have any room to talk! The House of Wind is contaminated with you and Cassian’s fluids.” All I get is more peanuts being thrown at me. The two of us dissolve into giggles as I throw them back at her. Cassian and Azriel having to take it away.

Cassian then turns his attention to Rita watching us in amusement.

“We’ll take a jar please, you always know how to make me feel good.” He winks at her. Rita rolls her eyes and passes him the jar.

“I’m charging you extra for that little stunt.” She says back to him.

“Oh c’mon that was a compliment! You’ve got the best stuff in the city.” He argues as Nesta shushes him. Nesta opted out of drinking, instead preferring to smoke mirthroot.

We all go back to our designated booth empty shit glasses in tow. We decide to play truth or drink. Azriel being the secretive person he is rather take the shot then tell the truth. I have a feeling he just wants to indulge the rare drink. I don’t blame him, he works hard for his court and he’s allowed to drop his inhibitions. Ever since we’ve gotten together I’ve taught him about self care and allowing one self to enjoy the moment. The centuries of training and spy work are still instilled in him, something even I can’t take away. But with the love of his mate and family he’s allowed himself to be happy.

I didn’t like the moonshine so I stuck to my cocktails then water, as I had a feeling someone needed to be more sober than the others. Azriel takes his eighth shot when he freezes. I still, looking around to see if anything was amiss. When I look back at him I see him smiling.

“You are a rare jewel.” He says so casually. Looking at me like I’m the only person in the world. He reaches over to brush my hair out of my eyes when instead he pokes me. This clumsy move tells me, he’s drunk. He giggles as I jump back slightly from a literal finger poking my eye.

“I’m so sorry love. Wow your skin is so soft.” Azriel starts touching my face in fascination. He then pulls me into his strong embrace. The awkward is angle but he just sighs constantly. Happy to be holding me. He starts petting my hair as if I’m a cute kitten.

The confused yet amused looks across the table have me pulling back from my mates embrace when he loudly says, “Noooooo, don’t leave me. I was so comfortable.”

I can hear and see Rhys and Cass laughing and clutching each other. Azriel RARELY gets drunk. I feel bad, maybe I should’ve limited how much he could drink since it’s not his usual stuff. Azriel has a fairly high tolerance for his usual whiskey or beer. Eight shots of his regular choice of drink would be nothing but him drinking moonshine has him reacting differently. I feel a little guilty but Azriel has carried me home and taken care of me plenty of times. Tonight I promise myself to return the favor.

“I know my heart, but I need a glass of water and so do you. I’ll be right back, I promise.” I caress his face and he looks at me with so much love I almost don’t want to go even if it’s a few minutes.

“Okay, hurry back. Take a shadow.” He says with a pout. A shadow always sticks with me regardless of his command or not. I shove my love down our bond for his thoughtfulness. Azriel gives me a goofy grin and pushes his love down to me.

“I need a drink, c’mon. Lover boy will be just fine.” Feyre says as she drags me away from my mate.

His eyes trailing after me until Cass and Rhys grab his shoulders to get his attention. Knowing my mate is in safe hands has me turning to Feyre. We talk a little about her art studio and Nyx. She confesses to having a bit of Mom guilt when she goes out. The alcohol making her a bit weepy from missing her son. I distract her by dragging her to the dance floor, after checking to make sure Azriel was still with the boys and has a glass of water.

After a few songs Mor and Nesta join us. I still keep an eye on my mate, making sure he’s okay and having fun. The next time I turn my eyes to him he’s gone. Panic fills my chest as I look around the bar for him. When I look up to the second floor I see him and his brother attempting to climb the rail. At that moment I decide it’s time to go home. I grab the girls and haul their asses the second floor before any of our mates cracks their skull open. The boys had way more moonshine than we did.

We successfully get them away from the railing, I grab Azriel’s face and he gently shoves me off of him. I frown at him, water lining my eyes at his rejection towards me. I go to ask him what’s wrong but before I do he tells me, “I am a mated male! You can not touch me.”

He sways a little grabbing onto Rhys for support. Rhys is already getting yelled at by his High Lady but she stops to turn to Azriel in amusement.

“What did he just say?” Feyre says to me. I stay silent for a moment realizing the situation. I slightly smile at my mates loyalty even though it is me who is touching him. I tell Feyre to grab Rhys and I can handle Azriel.

“Azriel, my heart. It’s me, I’m your mate.” I tell him gently helping him find his balance.

“I don’t want to go home with you. I want my mate. She will take care of me. I don’t need you.” As he’s still struggling to walk. I ignore him and help him down the stairs all the while he’s protesting insisting he has a wife and mate waiting for him at home. I roll my eyes fondly. Knowing it’s going to a rough walk home. He insists that I only touch his arm.

“I am a gentleman and my wife would be mad I let you walk home alone but I am not sharing a bed with you. She is only one I share my bed with. I love her.” He says to me, total seriousness.

I take a look at him noting his shirt is wrinkled from Cassian constantly grabbing onto him, his hair is wild, and his walk is staggered. I make a mental note to never let him drink Moonshine again. He trips slightly making me grab onto his back and front. He looks at me weirdly and takes my hands off his body.

“I don’t know youuuu. My body is reserved for my wife, I am fine with walking on my own.” His words are sloppy and he trips again. Laughing at him I ignore his protests and guide him to our shared home. The walk is a struggle as he keeps tripping yet insisting I keep my hands off him. I shove my love down the bond hoping he’ll recognize me that way. I feel more assured that even if I wasn’t with him and he was drunk he’d always come home to me. I hear him sigh with content and he lazily slaps his chest.

“This here, in my heart, she’s calling to me. I need to go home to her. I can feel her. I want to go home.” He pouts.

“Okay big guy, I’m gonna get you home to her. I’m sure she misses you.” I say, playing along. If I play along I’m hoping it’ll make him more amiable.

“She does! I can feel her even when I’m miles and miles away. I miss her too. Sometimes when I’m in the same room as her, I miss her. I just want her all to my self.” He confesses, I notice he’s started to slowly relax letting me guide him home. The thought of seeing me being his motivator. My heart is fluttering seeing him like this. Azriel is usually so smooth and calculated. His words to me sound like poetry, like a crafted song made just for me to hear. Now he’s confessing his love to, how he perceives, a stranger. Apart of me knows that he must know it’s me. Even if it’s deep down. But I can’t help but feel so special to him.

I finally spot our home, the sight of our porch makes me let an out a sound of relief.

Azriel looks to what I see and goes, “How do you know where I live? I don’t remember telling you. I wouldn’t have told you! I told you that I don’t want to go home with you.” He pushes himself away from me stumbling to our small gate. He struggled to unlock and me being exhausted from helping a 6’5 Illryian male slap his hands away and move to open it. He rubs his hand where I slapped and looks at me with a pout.

“Oh you’re okay! Stop being a baby and come inside please.” I tell him, laughing lightly at him. He moves to walk past me but turns before I can even take a step on the porch.

“This is as far as you can go. My wife will not be disrespected by having another female in our home.” He says with a serious face. The message isn’t as threatening since he’s still swaying and eyes glossed over. I smile at him and make a move to walk around him but he pushes his arms out, clumsily I might add, and repeats what he just said. I hold my arms up in surrender to this ridiculous statement.

“Azriel, my heart. I am your wife, you are mated to me. And I want to be in our bed and snuggle. Don’t you?” I ask giving him my best puppy dog eye. I don’t even know if it’ll work if the liquor made him forget who I was entirely. He goes to reply when he bends over to his side and pukes. I rush to his side and rub his back. He stand up again and leans against a pillar on our porch. His face smushed against it I can faintly hear.

“I want my mate…I’m not going home with you.” I roll eyes, trying not to get upset with him because it isn’t his fault and I know I’m not a doll to be around when I’m drunk. I walk towards our door, it unlocks automatically due to the ward Azriel insisted on placing. I try to gently push him inside. His wings knocking over a vase I was gifted from a past High Lord of Summer, I grimace as the antique lays broken on the floor. He looks around for what made the loud sound and he gasps loudly as if I was the one broken on the floor.

“My wife is going to kill me! Fuck, fuck, shit. Oh my gods I need to go to summer now! I need to go before she notices it’s broken.” He says making a move for the door. I immediately put a stop to that and drag him to our bedroom. I think he’s exhausted himself and flops down on the bed. Not making any moves. I start unlacing his boot and once I’ve got them off I go for his pants.

He slaps my hands away and goes, “I can undress myself. You have no right to touch me there! Go home before my wife finds you, she’ll kill you. My mate is verrrry possessive of me. She won’t like youuuu.” He sings at me.

He starts giggling and taking off his pants and shirt while moving to grab my pillow and holds onto it like it’s the answer of all his prayers.

“I miss her so much. I’m in bed but she isn’t here. It smells like her, I never want to smell anything again. Only her.” I make a face at him, I didn’t see how that makes sense but he’s drunk so I don’t question it. I make sure he has a glass of water and is tucked into bed before I make my move to join him. As soon as I start to move the cover he jolts back up, still clutching my pillow.

“Thank you for taking me home but I insist you take the couch. I will never share a bed with another female. I will not have our marriage bed tainted by a stranger.” He says eyeing me like I’m the King of Hybern resurrected.

“Enough, sweetheart. Tonight has been really funny and sweet but I want to sleep. Don’t you want to cuddle?” I say, I glance at the clock noting the late hour. He doesn’t make a move and stays silent. Giving me the answer I needed.

“As I stated you can take the couch as thank you but you have to leave before my WIFE comes home.” Azriel states, emphasizing the wife part as if I’m the drunken one.

“Okay I give up, I’m sleeping on the couch. Goodnight my love.” I say stealing a quick kiss from him that leaves him stuttering and blushing.

“Y-you just kissed me! That’s so rude, that’s-“ I close the door cutting off his rant. I go down the hall for our closet where we keep the extra blankets and pillows. I settle in our large and comfy couch that Azriel insisted on getting when we moved in. I’m now thankful he insisted. I start laughing recalling the night. Tonight was stressful but has shown me how loved I am. I have a male who’s loyal and kind. Even when he thought I was a stranger he wanted to walk me home so I wasn’t alone. I’m thankful to call him mine. I’m thankful to be his. I drift off to sleep with a soft smile, excited to tease him to no end in the morning for this stunt he pulled tonight.

——

Sunlight enters my home, the warmth of it caressing my cheek. I nuzzle closer to the warmth when I realize it’s Azriel’s hand. He’s sitting on the floor, his hair is a mess and he’s laying his head down close to mine. His eyes look groggy and I can tell he didn’t have a good sleep.

“Where were you last night? I couldn’t sleep without you.” He whispers gently, as if the sound of his own voice made his head ache.

I start laughing loudly, Azriel flinching back and rubbing his head. I start laughing so hard I start crying. My mate looks at me unamused.

“I’m sorry my love. But you literally kicked me out of our bed and made me sleep here. You insisted.” I tell him, laughter seeping through my words.

His mouth drops down in shock. He’s still rubbing his head and I feel bad so I start massaging his scalp the way I know he likes. I gets himself up off the floor and into my awaiting arms. Azriel secretly loves being the small spoon so I baby him and rub down his back and up into his scalp. The mating bond compelling me to make sure he’s okay and loved.

I start recalling the night for him. Apparently after that eighth shot he completely blacked out. He doesn’t remember a single thing from last night past that point. He grumbles and hides his face in my neck. His words coming out muffled.

“I’m so sorry. I hate not being in control like that. I’m sorry for treating you like that.” He says while pressing kisses on my neck and he squeezes me even tighter.

“It’s okay, you’ve taken care of me plenty of times when I’m drunk. I’m glad you were having fun and it was really sweet of you to defend my honor and our bond even if it was me. I love you so much for it.” I tell him making sure his eyes were on me. I cradled his face, caressing the scars and stubble that reside there. He leans down to give me soft kiss once, twice, three times before he nuzzles his nose against mine.

Azriel may be hard to read, stoic, and cold to everyone else but here, in the privacy and intimacy of our home he’s lovable and soft. A privilege to be able to see this of side. The decades of trust and memories helping him become a more loving person.

“How are you feeling though?” I ask him, he groans and lays his head down.

“I feel like absolute death. Actually death would be more merciful than what I’m feeling now.” My mate, the dramatic. I go to move to make him some tea and a light meal for his tummy but he just holds me tighter.

“Just stay for a little longer, I finally feel better now that I’m with you.”

Who am I to resist and say no? So I settle in and relishbeing with my mate and husband. Enjoying a quiet morning after such a loud night.

#azriel acosf #azriel fluff #azriel imagines #acotar funny #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel being drunk #inner circle #azriel acotar

[blueparadis]

Hi! I love your writing :)

If you have the time/are interested can yo make TR Mikey x reader smut with Mikey realizing reader is a virgin right before their first time? Either he believed gossips or the reader teases a lot or something. Whatever you cook up if you decide to do this, I am sure I will love it :)

Have a nice day

—

Thank you >:)) okay. this was very precise but idk why it confused me. I did my best tho. I love him sm. I'm always excited to write on him >^< hope you love it too <33

STAY WITH ME ; MANJIRO SANO !

୨ content & tags ୧ ~ f!reader, mafia au, mention of brothels, arrange marriage, virginity k!nk, ( domestic ) fluff, f1nger1ng, orgasm control, kisses and soft love making, very light corruption k!nk, teasing, he is a big softie here. word count — 2kish + blog navigation.

“You know about this ?”, Draken throws the newspaper in front of Manjiro who is deeply staring at his knuckles and his rings, sitting on a bar stool holding a drink with his non-dominant hand.

“They made it public. Were you aware of this? . . . ”Draken continues in a harsh tone with his eyebrows furrowing further as Manjiro keeps him playing with a ring, juggling it in between his fingers. “Mi-key, you know what this means right? The wedding is gonna happen in a week or . . .”

“Shin told me that we're going to visit them. Tomorrow. So, I figured . . .”

“You figured what? Y/N is practically in the front page with massive headlines and. . . ” Manjiro grabs the news paper instantly looking at the photo of her. She is walking out of a shop in a one-piece dress that reveals much of her body curves, beautifully, he must add. And except the chauffeur, there is no sign of a bodyguard. How dare he! That scoundrel.

Moreover, it's been almost a year since he saw her or it would be more accurate to say that he was forbidden to see her, meet her, talk to her. The only thread of communication he had with her was occasional gifts, though it was more of a bridging alliance with her father than wooing her.

“We’re leaving.”He rushes out of their private bar,“Now. And Inform Haruchiyo. He is coming with us.”

“What? ”, Draken gasped. “But Shinichiro -san ”

“Didn't you want me to take action? This is me taking action . . . for her. ”

“Ahhh, fuck it.”

Manjiro wasn't angry. He was furious, furious that his fiancee is roaming around the town without any sort of protection. He has been humbling himself since the day this bond was sealed. He had stopped going to whore house, bringing girls in his house or even going to a bar with Izana. The day this marriage was confirmed, he knew he had to cut off all these (bad) habits once she is under same room with him.

She was sent to study abroad, right after the meeting. Manjiro would have easily continued his lavish acts but he was told to behave, told to be prepared for her. And now that she is back, Manjiro was supposed to court her, take care of her, and get rid of the childish awkwardness of a newly married couple. Who knows what happened abroad? She might have been deflowered or . . .

“Woah. What a good day it is . . .”, Y/N’s father rose up folding the newspaper and keeping it on the tea table as he saw three men approaching in his way. Manjiro Sano, Ken Ryuguji and Sanzu Haruchiyo. Of course, they had no trouble with the security.

Without greeting Manjiro walked in to the house, he was determined to meet her. Draken stopped y/n's father with his hand while his lips started to work. “Nah... Shiba-san .... When did y/n got back? We came here immediately as soon as we saw her... in the headlines” Haruchiyo stood beside the man with his eyes on the ground, hands tucked behind at the valley of his waist.

Manjiro smiled to himself as he heard Draken making the small talk. Ah! Geez. He never changes. His eyes scanned the hall. Not a soul was there, not even a servant. He heard quick footsteps cascading down the stairs, his heartbeats escalated, breathing became faster, hands crawling inside the pocket of his slacks. . .“Ahrey. . . Isn't it yuzuha? ”

She cocked her head to a side exclaiming in a bored tone. “Hakkai and Taiju are busy at the restaurant. I'm sure you know why”

“I’m not here for them” Yuzuha couldn't help but smile at his confession.

“She is in her room. Up-stairs. Right - wing. Last room with balcony.” Manjiro was already walking as he bowed his head to give his utmost thanks to her.

He stood in front of the door for a minute thinking now what? He hasn't prepared shit to say and he certainly doesn't want to scare her. Last meeting was . . . he was quite hard on her. He knocked, three times and waited. Within five seconds he saw y/n opening the door with so much zeal in her eyes.

“You should always ask. . . Who is it? Before opening the door.”, Manjiro quipped walking into the room and closing the door behind, without turning so as to keep his eyes on her.

“Are you not surprised to see me? ”

“Yuzuu texted.”, that girl always had a knack for enacting tit-for-tat whenever there was an opening.

“So, within a week. . . You'll have to stay. . . ”

“Stay with you, share bed with you, obey you. . . Yeah, yeah I know” God! What did they do to her? Last time when Manjiro saw her she had no fire in her eyes, no fight in her soul. What exactly happened at abroad?

“I wasn't going to say that but i guess that sums up. Here”, he kept a strip of medicines. “You will have these. I want you to be prepared for our wedding night. Start from today.” Part of her knew what those pills did, while part of her wanted to ask, to hear through his voice. How fucking rude! No gifts, no talk straight to sex.

The wedding day was lustrous and full of happiness. Just for a day, everyone in the Shiba family set aside there differences to make you smile. Yuzuha complained a little about how she is gonna be lonely without her sister and claimed she is gonna visit her soon but Manjiro brushed it off.

“You’re drinking too much. . . Is the crowd making you nervous? Do you want to go inside? Is the food too spicy? ”

Manjiro was kind even for a man who belonged to the obsidian world of blood-bath. His attention was focused on her, her tone of talking, body language. He cannot wait to just have her, share bed with her and fuck her in all positions known to a man, fuck her till all she remembers is his name, till she reeks of him, thinks of him and only him.

He entered the room an hour later than her. By the time she already had changed clothes and was under the covers laying down and thinking about the marriage, this marriage that was mere an alliance and she was just a peace offering.

“Y/N, you still awake?”Manjiro asked coming out of the bathroom and standing near the edge of the bed. The light of night lamp was perfectly falling on her face as she turned around to face him. Manjiro’s heart dropped at the pit of his stomach, cock twitched as her body peeked from under the covers.

“Are you tired?”, he asked leaning over her as he tucked the loose hair strands behind her ear. She nodded and sat upright. He was now sharing the same cover as her, cock growing, eyes glinting in lust and heart pounding amongst his rib cage. He cupped her face so as she would meet his eyes but she jerked his hands off instantaneously, jumping out of the bed and making some distance between them.

“Don’t”

“Why? Did i do something wrong? Something that hurt you? ”

“No but . . .” “I didn't take pills.”

Manjiro got out of bed and strolled towards her. She backed away. He could see her shaky hands, he swallowed and looked away. “Do i scare you, Y/N?”

“No.” There was silence for a few seconds since Manjiro did not know what to do, what to say. He wasn't ready to have babies, not yet. And, now he can't even fuck her raw and he would hate to wear condom on his wedding night. He always used protection while visiting brothels even though he knew all the girls were clean.

“I. . . I want . . . I need time”, she breathed out. Manjiro’s eyebrows jumped since an entirely different fact dawned on him. Could it be. . . she is. . .?

“Are. . .” he cleared his throat. “Are you still a virgin ?”

“What do you mean still?” , she thought.

“umm-hmm” He raked his fingers through his pitch-black hair revealing his dragon tattoo as her feeble umm-hmm echoed in his head. She is a virgin, that is, he is going to be her first, probably for everything. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded if it were opposite since he was dry for almost an year and now had to keep himself under control. Great. He is truly fucked.

“Do you trust me, y/n ?”

“I can try ”

Manjiro laid out his hand in front of her. She hesitated at first but the moment she kept her palm over his, Manjiro lowered his head to kiss her knuckles. As soon as he raised his head, he pulled her against his body wrapping his other hand around her waist. Her body felt warm,less shaky as he felt her nose grazing against his chest muscles.

“So, you're saying that. . .”, he earned her stares on him as he spoke further. “No one was handsome enough for your taste ?”

“It was a all - girls college.”

“Uhhh-Hahh!” , Manjiro lips tugged up. “And they didn't tell you about anything? What actually happens during wedding night? When they came to know about our marriage.”

“I wasn't supposed to talk about my life, this life to them. I made friends. They were nice but i missed home.” Manjiro was taken aback by her ways for two reasons; one : she wasn't afraid of him like others, two: she was innocent but not naive, a little brave he might add.

“Y/N ?”

“Hmm?”

And when she peered up Manjiro pressed his lips against her cheeks just at the corner of her lips without a second thought. He has fucked enough girls to know a woman's weak spots but this felt out of syllabus. He guided her hands over his shoulders as his lips proceeded along her neckline. Manjiro bucked his hips , pressed his hard on against her entrance earning a loud gasp with her hands locking around his nape. Bingo.

Manjiro swiftly pushed her on to the bed. He stood looking at her while she panted vigorously. He discarded his upper clothing, crawling on top her. His head dipped while she leaned in, lips slightly parted awaiting for his kiss. But Manjiro’s lithe fingers worked on the buttons of her night dress. “What? You thought I was gonna kiss you. . . on your lips. You asked for time, remember?”

But immediately Manjiro’s lips were silenced by a kiss. Dry, short-lived and quick. His hands were still on undoing the buttons Manjiro couldn't help but grin.

“Is that you call a kiss? ”one of his hands travelled underneath her thin night gown, way up to her vagina. His fingers penetrated her at the same time his lips dashed on hers. Manjiro wasn't in mood to hold back because her body was eager. She was just a little afraid and by her desperate hold on his arms, Manjiro could tell she was loving it.

He explored her lips and kissed as deep as he could. “That is ... What you call a kiss.”, he whispered against her lips before pecking her cheeks. He added one more finger and quickened his pace, hitting her spot, watching her eyes blanking out, her grips growing stronger on his arms, body squirming underneath his. Her hips reflexively bucked up as orgasm washed over her body.

“Good girl. ”, he hummed as he rolled beside her giving space to breath licking his fingers shamelesly.

@tokyometronetwork

#tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader #mikey x y/n #mikey smut #mikey x you #manjiro smut #manjiro sano smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo rev smut #tokrev smut #sano manjiro x reader #sano manjiro x y/n #manjiro x you #manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers x you smut #tokyo revengers x female reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyorev x yn #manjirou x reader #manjiro x y/n #sano mikey x you #sano manjiro x you #sano mikey x reader #tr smut #tr drabbles #tokyo revengers drabbles #smut #smut drabble

[llamagoddessofficial]

how would the normal boyo's react to mc's death?

no murder, nothing crazy, just old age taking away the love of their lives.

and for bonus points lets say they had been happily married for decades as to add on the memories and the sudden shock of losing someone that had become such a key factor in your life.

I think I've mentioned this before, but it doesn't hurt to bring it up again. Aggre Mc is going to live a lot longer than she expected. Even with absolutely no intervention, thanks to her connection with the guys, her Soul has three major sources of magic nearby that instinctively constantly share their power with hers. It will probably expand her lifetime by a century, minimum. Her big issue isn't going to be dying; it's going to be dealing with the implications of living so much longer than she thought she would.

There's also the topic of a Soul bond. If she Soul bonds with any of the three of them, and doesn't have kids, she's pretty much going to live as a monster does (forever, unless interrupted). In Aggre, they definitely discuss the subject of her possible death eventually- and my personal canon post-Aggre is that after settling into a rhythm and spending a few decades together, when Mc decides she wants to Soul bond, the boys elect Sans to be the one she bonds with. She'd then live with them like that.

But... in a hypothetical scenario, where Mc resists everything and dies... I think this is how it would go. Obviously, angst and death under the cut.

Sans: Honestly, Sans takes her approaching death the best. Which should really worry you about how the other two would react. Does he fall apart? Absolutely, the last time he felt this kind of agony was when he lost his mother. But Sans has always been good at disguising his emotions, hiding tremendous pain under an easygoing exterior. He keeps up with the dishes, organises her end of life care, keeps contact with his friends. Papyrus would be the only one to see even a fraction of the true extent of Sans' grief. Sans is about to lose the love of his life, and has completely frozen over to avoid crumbling.

Red: He definitely takes it better than you'd expect, considering he'd have a mended relationship with his brother. But it still hits. It's cruel that the universe sent him someone who taught him how to let himself feel, then took that person away and delivered the worst pain he's ever felt.

Mc would be proud of him, though. Despite the pain, he avoids falling back into the worst of his old addictions, because he knows its not what she would want and it won't actually make the pain go away. It will just numb him to everything; including those who are trying to help. He picks up smoking again in the days leading up to her death, but he avoids the bottle.

Skull: It's hard, for him. It's really hard.

All of them knew it would be particularly difficult for Skull. They had a long time to discuss it- a long time to talk the subject over. Mc prepared stuff for him, for after she's gone... people to talk to, things of hers to hold when it hurts, exercises for him to hopefully learn to deal with it. For a while, everyone was convinced Skull was ready. Even Skull.

... But he just... he just can't do it. He can't do it. He can't let her go. It doesn't matter how many hours she spent holding his hands, how hard they all believed he'd be fine without her- it doesn't matter how much he healed by her side and how well adjusted he seems now. The moment he realises she's really genuinely dying, the journey ahead of him looks so impossibly dark, so frightening. He holds her as she's dying and he feels so small. He cries like a baby and begs her not to leave him behind.

The moment she dies, he catches her Soul. He holds it in his hands, hushing it like a scared bird and tucking it away into his chest, where he can keep her alive. Honestly, they'd have to cut him open if they wanted to let her pass on.

... But I think at that point, Red and Sans aren't exactly fighting to make him let go. In fact... something unspoken passes between the three of them. Skull just did what all of them wanted to do.

Skull gives her to Sans, who keeps her hidden away, within his own Soul. Her Soul knows his best, and will feel most comfortable there long-term.

They'll figure out something. They have all the time in the world.

#llamagines

[wind-up-thancred]

bit of thancred character musing under the cut that im gonna try to approximate from a 6am discord rambling into something i can actually post. both SHB and EW spoilers included

i saw some folks talking on twt about how guilt seems to be a very important factor in his life and i agree. i think a lot of major parts of his character and arcs have been due to guilt over something he did (or didnt even really do, re: the whole goobue rampage situation). it's driven him to work his ass off after louisoix which lead to him getting possessed... but its probably also what motivated him to do better for ryne after being forced to look his fuckups directly in the eye instead of just wallowing about them. but i think, at the same time, he doesnt really seem to, like... actually be proud of himself for a lot of the stuff he's done in order to work off that guilt? the biggest giveaway for that being the line in endwalker on the ragnarok where he talks about his "good deeds" cynically and seems to insist that they were never really that impactful in the first place. that they'll just go to dust when he dies.

in shb, during the ahm areng segment, not only does he talk down on himself in general, but also puts down his attempts to help OG minfilia back in the pre-ARR days... when i'm pretty sure she never even blamed him for the goobue rampage in the first place.

it's all a little bit sad to me, tbh. i've seen some people reason that, because he was only able to escape poverty due to louisoix seeing potential in his thieving skills, he's essentially internalized the idea that he's only really worth keeping around by ANYONE if he's actively being productive, either helping others or trying to fix whatever fuckups he feels he's made. i think that would explain a lot of this

note the "few positive traits" line, which to me comes across as "i was only picked up out of childhood poverty because he thought my skills were useful." though i don't really know how much of that mentality he's managed to work past by post endwalker. he IS able to go off on his own, and mentions that he trusts the scions to keep themselves safe now... but as i ranted about before, the short story points out that he's only really content to rest briefly before he feels obligated again to seek out unrest to try and help, specifically mentioning minfilia again. also, a couple times during the story, notably post ARR after his possession, mid SHB after he's wounded in a fight with sineaters, and post SHB after he passes out due to the weakening soul-body bond, he seems to dislike even having to rest for medical reasons

it's a pretty interesting part of his character to me. idk if the writers specifically had his rigorous upbringing in mind when they wrote these parts of his character, but to me it would make a lot of sense as an explanation for why he's so averse to rest and why he carries so much guilt and why he's so passionate about keeping the folks around him safe. that's kinda been his whole reason for life since he was a kid-- using his skills for the benefit of others. to him, doing anything other than that would be a waste, it seems.

idk. funny guy makes my heart hurt. yes i had all these dialogue screencaps saved and on hand. yes i am a little insane. what of it

#ffxiv #um idk if i wanna tag this. maybe. whatever #thancred #thancred waters #shadowbringers spoilers #endwalker spoilers

[hatchetmanofficial]

(I love this question and I love your username!!!)

Thanks!

I like to think that Alan still has a part of him, that wants to weasel his way back into society, especially after meeting his Doe-eyes. But he can never have it. It's selfish of him to want.

Or Alan doesn’t believe that even if he can get away he can be redeemed/deserves it. Or could cope with being part of society.

Boss is unpredictable and very much so picks those who believe they are someone without a cause. I'd like to think that The Beast's song "Come Wayward Souls" applies to him.

I really enjoyed Over The Garden Wall, and especially Come Wayward Souls/Potatus Et Molasses. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=hWgVdUv9UHo

It’s a shame the show got pulled from streaming services in a lot of locations.

TW suicide, death, religion feel free to ignore and delete this ask if it’s too heavy or triggering.

I watched Over The Garden Wall years ago and while I haven’t actually read The Divine Comedy/Dante’s Inferno directly… I need to as I’ve found a great VN that also derives from it called 10:16 …I seem to remember some analyses that describe the sin of despair.

(Makes sense. Catholics believe suicide is a sin.)

That is why blithe Greg was aided unlike Wirt. He is a child, innocent of the sin of despair, and in turn his seemingly random foolish actions stave off disaster, ie. dumping the coins from the ghosts creates a bonding experience while getting to Adelaide’s house so Beatrice can change her mind about betraying them.

(Also - that means they didn’t pay the coins to the ferryman to cross Acheron/the Styx! Charon’s Obol. Put into the mouth or on the eyes of the dead for that purpose. They also played a song for clemency like Orpheus.

Technically they haven’t paid for passage or received rites so cannot cross over into death and are trapped on the Earth side of the bank! Forced to wander/given more time before crossing. This may have been key to finally getting out of there. Though a villager in Harveston did say it wasn’t their time.)

And Greg is only ever in real danger when he loses hope, gives up and chooses to sacrifice himself for Wirt.

Wirt only breaks the curse when he has a realisation and dares to hope. To act. Otherwise he would have been trapped as the new employee, the new woodcutter/soul reaper/perpetuator of the cycle.

So… The Beast, and perhaps the Boss, do prey on despair and the lost. And potentially suicides but I’m not sure.

The Edelwood trees also recall The Wood Of The Suicides, which is yet another reference to Dante’s Inferno that I first encountered in The Sandman series. (Though those were in hell.)

So. With Over The Garden Wall being a child friendly allegory for purgatory or hell… I’m actually wondering if Carver, Alan, and Stitches may be dead without being aware of it? Or at least no longer strictly living, caught halfway in the liminal space of the uncanny town.

Stitches was constructed from the remains of three people. Carver doesn’t resemble his past self, retain much of his humanity or remember much about his life. 

Alan… was an unprepared 14 (?) year old runaway who was homeless for at least a year in Canada (?), which means he very likely experienced at least one bitterly cold winter without adequate shelter or clothing. Due to his genetic condition he may not have even been able to feel cold or pain to know how much peril he was in and find shelter, or he was lost.

I don’t know whether he was ‘rescued’ while still alive as an alternative to dying or whether he could have actually succumbed to exposure (or to despair in a tragic literal sense) and been found then.

I wonder if this is a Charon situation, if Alan replaced a disobedient employee and a future victim may replace him. (Perhaps Stitches is being lined up, or was created to watch Alan.)

Are the employees psychopomps? 

Or cultists enacting sacrifice?

Both?

In a way Alan cutting down people with his hatchet recalls the cutting down of the Edelwood Trees, that being a metaphor for death.

(I wonder if the choosing is similar to that of the employees - if he takes the despairing, those lost in life, or those who get lost in the forest. The victims are cut down with a hatchet, reaped to feed/fuel the Boss/the Beast.)

Which is more traditionally represented with a field of wheat being reaped by Death’s scythe.

A cornfield, another scary liminal space where people get lost, with similar reaping imagery, has also been associated with evil supernatural entities. 

A good example is He Who Walks Behind The Rows, implying an ancient evil god/cult worship and human sacrifice. Giving a hint of why the Boss might be making them do this.

Much in the way the Ancient Greeks believed they needed to placate gods and ghosts with blood.

Doe Eyes is a pull to humanity and life. Orpheus trying to lead Eurydice out of Hades. 

Or maybe the coworkers are just metaphorically ‘dead to the world’ through being taken in by the cult and largely isolated from society. (Stitches though is absolutely on some level dead or was never alive.)

I’m also seeing some Twin Peaks/Deadly Premonition parallels with forests/trees, weird towns, and another entity like BOB feeding on suffering.

I remember reading that the Boss may have been partially inspired by Bill Cipher too, so I’m wondering if the town is a little pocket of supernatural chaos. 

Bill (a yellow pyramid) was in turn inspired by Nyarlathotep, who liked to start cults and spread chaos and discord amongst mortals - and where Nyarlathotep is associated with pyramids The Boss is embodied in a similarly angular form of a diamond shaped sign. A yellow sign! 

The Yellow Sign is a symbol that is usually used by the Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign, a cult that worships the Great Old One Hastur. It is said that the symbol can bestow supernatural powers such as mind-control and possession, and is used to get people under the control of the King in Yellow.

Actually… Past traumatic event in Doe Eye’s life and (spoiler) aside, that may also explain Doe Eye’s nightmares and inability to sleep. As well as their pull to the forest.

So while I’m half recalling all of this or extrapolating from googled snippets maybe all of these things together are hints to the Boss’s eldritch nature.

However, he can still influence his employers. If he sees someone get out of line, he would simply have to put them back in place. Alan, however, never gave Boss any hassle, not even when he first found him. You could say he has a clean track record when it comes to his job. Until doe-eyes that is. When I say that Boss kinda has favorites. He truly does.

I think Alan was too young, beaten down and scared to rebel and so obeyed without question. I think the Boss liked that. Alan is wolf coded but was as obedient as a lamb. Or the Boss’s loyal dog, used to guard and attack.

I had a blast reading through all of this

thank you tumblr user krowspiracyanon!

#conspiratorial ramblings #is it true?? idk i won't say

[yazthebookish]

I posted my take on the Lightsinger theory and Gwyn's "luring" powers theory on Reddit two days ago but thought I'll reshare it here (with some additional thoughts)

The only canon information we have on Lightsingers:

Nesta winced. Cassian went on as she scanned the bog, "There are lightsingers: lovely, ethereal beings who will lure you, appearing as friendly faces when you are lost. Only when you're in their arms will you see their true faces, and they aren't fair at all. The horror of it is the last thing you see before they drown you in the bog. But they kill for sport, not food."

Does this correlate with anything Gwyn did in ACOSF? The answer is no.

I am not saying it is impossible for her to be a Lightsinger though where things stand it's unlikely in my opinion, but I'd attribute any potential powers either singing or glowing to her River Nymph heritage. We have no idea of her powers and she's also half High Fae of course she'll have powers like every other High Fae.

I think a lot of the "canon evidence" are different interpretations of the text but sometimes try to present itself as concrete evidence or proof when it isn't. Some attribute her singing during the services as the cause to Nesta having vision of the Prison and the Harp, but that also means we will have to ask what connection is there between Lightsingers and the Prison/Harp? And some believe it's the lyrics that trigger the vision as they're written in the ancient language and "Nesta saw what the song spoke of". Some believe Nesta power reacting to the crackling energy around Gwyn is a sign that she is a Lightsinger, but like... that's an indicator she has powers just like how Nesta in a later chapter felt Merrill's ornerry power. How is crackling energy means it's a Lightsinger when we never saw them? Powers recognize each other sometimes, just like how Feyre was surprised when Eris was able to detect a cold flame in the Dagger Nesta forged when it was given to him as a gift (like calls to like, Eris also has flame power).

In the bonus chapter, it's described at one point that the Shadows danced with Gwyn's breath as if it heard some Silent MUSIC (emphasis on music and not song). What was referred to as Music between Souls? The mating bond. Interestingly enough it was that same night when Nessian consummated their bond and they were connected by a music between their souls. So that could be a hint, and at the end of the scene Azriel hears a distant beautiful singing and the shadows sing back, hard to tell whether if it's Gwyn, who went back to trying to cut the ribbon, starts to sing or it's also another wording for a hint at the mating bond (also called the Song of the Soul).

I'm more keen to believe it's the mating bond because there are far more parallels and similar mate language to support it across all her three series and if someone is going to tell me "but Lorcan's chest glowed after he took the blood oath from Aelin—" my love context matters in this case and it doesn't invalidate the 10+ examples I can pull out of similar mate language like in the bonus chapter.

To ADD, for Azriel to be lured to the library at 7pm because of said Lightsinger singing, he has to be able to HEAR the singing for the power to influence him and Azriel didn't hear any singing, he was conscious and aware of his actions. It was mentioned Nesta sang with Gwyn at the services frequently and she didn't make any comments on a vision being triggered or her constantly seeking out Gwyn so there are holes in those kind of conclusions—again, because we never see Lightsingers on page.

"But when he arrives to the library it chimed 7pm!! That's when they sing for the dusk service" welp that's another hole in the theory, it depends on Azriel being drawn to the library because of Gwyn's singing but if he showed up at the library and they don't sing until 7pm then before the clock chimes at 7pm, they weren't singing so... not a convincing answer. Also, Clotho is usually seen during those services and Azriel still found her at her desk.

Early on when ACOSF came out, some readers made connections between Lightsingers and Shadowsingers and made the assumption that Lightsingers are the Shadowsingers' Light counterparts. That's why you had people musing about Azriel's mate being a Lightsinger, but canonically Lightsingers are evil once we go back to the text but we don't even see them to know for sure how they wield their powers or if they even sing because Shadowsinger Azriel doesn't need to sing when he uses his power.

In an Elain book (in this scenario it's her and Azriel), I don't see any purpose of Gwyn being revealed as a Lightsinger or anything about her powers because it'll be used as a plot device for an Elain/Azriel romance rather than contribute to Gwyn's own growth and that's why I don't like it. It will have implications on Nesta and the Valkyries dynamic too. If that's the case it will mean Gwyn will need more page time in an Elain and Azriel book to tackle something like that, especially if they're going to "help" her since that's the reasoning I see often—that she's not evil but she doesn't know it and if she did they will help her but like... why? To make her realize she has been keeping them apart or that she wanted a necklace she didn't even have any clue about.

Given Gwyn's history who even at the end of the book said despite training it didn't erase the fact that she let her sister die, she is still dealing with survivor's guilt, she still refuses to wear the priestesses stone, and also her desire to leave the library and see the world (which we didn't see yet). She has a lot of promise as a character than be a plot device for someone else's relationship.

The way I see it, Gwyn's theoretical powers is used to absolve Azriel of any accountability for his actions (ala Necklacegate) because it's not a good look on him, so it's better to pin it on someone else by saying he was lured against his will (since I often see that the reasoning behind her presence in the bonus chapter is to hint at her powers).

So if I have to read about Gwyn dealing with her powers whether they're good or bad, I'd rather see it from her point of view and for it to be beneficial for her own personal arc and healing journey. My problem isn't her having questionable powers (which I don't mind because many SJM characters had questionable powers but used it for good), I don't want it to be used as a plot device for another couple just to smear her as a character and clear the actions of the other male character so his "love interest" doesn't blame him for his actions.

Whew, this was long but I adore Gwyn and I am not a fan of the current version of the Lightsinger theory. I think even if SJM makes it happen, it would probably play out way differently than the fandom expects.

Also, it's not in SJM's style to use other woman drama in her romances. The other women are often 💀 or insignificant past lovers. I don't see her taking that route with Gwyn at all.

She could be half Asteri and I would still love her and be eager to explore her powers and story, I just don't like it being used to further another couple's conflict or whatever (they already have Rhys and Lucien).

And no, I hate the idea of Gwyn being controlled by either Koschei or Merrill because it takes away her agency and the suggestion here is about her doing things that harms others, how will that not have any implications on Nesta and Emerie and the trio's healing journey? Given her own tragic history and the fact that she was helpless and powerless to help her twin sister and she's still dealing with survivor's guilt over it all.

"Why did you sign up for this, then?" Nesta drank the glass Gwyn extended. "If you already have mind-calming exercises you're accustomed to?"

"Because I don't ever want to feel powerless again," Gwyn said softly, and all those easy smiles and bright laughs were gone. Only stark, pained honesty shone in her remarkable eyes.

Her being controlled is putting her in a powerless position again because she has no choice but to do Koschei or "evil" Merrill's bidding that could potentially harm Nesta and the others. I despite it.

And if I have to read about any comparisons between Gwyn and Ianthe as proof that priestesses can be evil, I'll go insane.

Also, if Gwyn's power can influence anyone through her singing, it would've influenced every single person in the services. It would have influenced other members of the IC. This particular theory is weak and depends one interpretation of the text that tries to present itself as evidence of an evil creature that never even shows up on page.

Gwyn wasn't added in the bonus chapter by coincidence. Sarah confirmed she left crumbs all over the book and specifically his bonus chapter, and what we speculate may or may not be confirmed in the next book so you can't dismiss the bonus by saying it has no relevance when the author said she left crumbs for readers to theorize about, which leads me to believe she wants us to come up with different theories until she publishes the next book where we'll know for sure if we nailed it or not.

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara

[deadlything]

this was inspired by a post about the similarities between gwyn and az made by @olenvasynyt. i want to yap a little bit or a lot about how the difference in their personalities lends itself beautifully to a relationship between the two of them, because seeing how they play off each other in the bonus chapter really did close any doors that i'd been keeping open in the hopes that e/riel would eventually win me over.

It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running. Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Gwyn practiced in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight. She stopped mid-slice, whirling to face him. "I'm sorry. I knew you all were going to the river house, so I didn't think anyone would mind if I came up here, and —" "It's fine. I came to retrieve something I forgot." The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was. His shadows peered over his wings at her.

azriel starts the conversation by being short with her. he's lying, "smooth and cool," being curt and closed off with her. (even while his shadows are trying to get a closer look at her.) gwyn isn't bothered by it, though — she smiles at his shadows, then is truthful and open with him even though he isn't being truthful and open with her.

But she just hooked her coppery-brown hair behind an arched ear. "I was trying to cut the ribbon." She pointed with her sword at the white ribbon, which seemed to glow silver.

they have a short exchange after this and then silence falls between them. their gazes meet, and then azriel remembers gwyn as he first met her in sangravah, and how different she is now. (chronologically the next chapter after this is the chapter where gwyn becomes the first to cut the ribbon and become a valkyrie, and cassian notices that azriel is looking at gwyn with "admiration and quiet encourgement" on his face — we don't get azriel's exact thoughts in that moment, but i really and truly believe he deeply respects her and how far she's come.)

here, gwyn immediately picks up on the fact that azriel is thinking about sangravah; she ducks her head and dismisses him, giving him an out to exit the conversation. but he doesn't. instead he immediately changes tone.

He snorted. "Are you kicking me out?" Gwyn's teal eyes flashed with alarm. "No! I mean, I don't mind sharing the ring. I just... I know you like to be alone." Her mouth quirked to the side, crinkling the freckles on her nose. "Is that why you came up here?" Sort of. "I forgot something," he reminded her. "At two in the morning?" Pure amusement glittered in her stare. Better than the pain and grief he'd spied a moment before. So he offered her a crooked smile. "I can't sleep without my favorite dagger."

next gwyn asks him about the solstice party, and instead of going back to being curt and aloof like he was before, we see az fumble a little and try to shift the subject back onto her. we also see the shadow dancing that was heard around the world here — not because gwyn is an evil lightsinger, but because (in my opinion) this is it, this is the music between souls that is so often used to describe the mating bond. the cold and aloof azriel who's been bottling everything up is actively looking for ways to keep this conversation going rather than shutting it down and just going to bed.

"How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. "Fine," he said, and realized a heartbeat later that it wasn't a socially respectable answer. "It was nice." Not much better. So he asked, "Did you and the priestesses have a celebration?"

gwyn answers. but they're very much alike. she's just as stubborn as he is — but i think she can tell that she's poking into something that he doesn't want to talk about. instead of letting him flip the conversation entirely around and make it about her again, though, she asks him a different question. just like gwyn was one of the people who was patient enough to "keep holding out her hand" until nesta opened up to her, she's willing to flip this conversation back and forth until azriel opens up a little bit. and she somehow guesses something about him that no one else seems to know, breaking right through his guard.

She angled her head, hair shining like molten metal. "Do you sing?" He blinked. It wasn't every day that people took him by surprise, but... "Why do you ask?" "They call you a shadowsinger. Is it because you sing?" "I am a shadowsinger — it's not a title that someone just made up." She shrugged again, irreverently. Az narrowed his eyes, studying her. "Do you, though?" she pressed. "Sing?" Azriel couldn't help his chuckle. "Yes."

he changes the subject again after this, telling gwyn to try cutting the ribbon again because he doesn't want her to ask him anything else about his singing. and she does, and i love that she does, because it's one of the differences between them that i think lends itself really well to a relationship between the two of them. he's opened up a little, but he doesn't want to talk about his singing; and she's willing to be the more vulnerable one and let him pick apart the mistakes she makes while trying to cut the ribbon, despite how competitive we know she can be. and it's absolutely the right call to make, because it settles the restless feelings he's been grappling with.

"You're turning the blade a fraction as it comes parallel to the ground," Azriel explained, drawing his Illyrian blade from down his back. "Watch." He slowly demonstrated, rotating his wrist where she did. "You see how you open up right here?" He corrected his position. "Keep your wrist like that. The blade is an extension of your arm." Gwyn tried the movement as slowly as he had, and he watched her self-correct, fighting against the urge to open up her wrist and rotate the blade. She did it three times before she stopped falling into the bad habit. "I blame Cassian for this. He's too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days." Azriel laughed. "I'll give you that." Gwyn smiled broadly. "Thank you." Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.

and then we have everything that comes after, which i think gets overshadowed quite a bit because the chapter comes at the end of the book, rather than where it actually takes place in the timeline of the story. despite not having the time to speak with mor about vallahan or visit lucien to discuss the autumn court soldiers, azriel does find the time to give gwyn private dagger lessons after this. she becomes the first to cut the ribbon and become a valkyrie; something that cassian says he will remember for centuries, something he says he'll tell his grandchildren about, something that "causes the earth to shift and greater forces to peer into the training ring" — and azriel is looking at gwyn with admiration on his face. (cassian believes that azriel felt the shift, too, but since we're not in azriel's head after this, we can't be sure.) after not seeing even a hint of azriel's love of music in the entirety of the series up until this point, we see him in hofas humming and bobbing his head along to the music bryce plays, and actively asking her to play more. just from this one conversation, we see positive character growth from the both of them. character growth that does ripple out into the rest of the books, despite some people trying to say that this bonus chapter doesn't matter and/or that gwyn isn't important to azriel.

in summary: they're so much alike, but even their differences fit together like puzzle pieces and complement each other. (because they're mates.)

#pro gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #gwynriel #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #acosf

[the-hawthorns-ocs]

Soothsayer Spindle'stare

MY ABSOLUTE FAVE OC EVER! MY SKRUNKLY!!!!

Character Bio:

Kinship: The Hawthorns

Queer (loves wife <3); what's a gender? (agender); it/she

Age: 3 cycles, 11 moons; ~31 Hyrs

Voice Headcanon: Entrapta - She-Ra - And The Princesses of Power (but like if she smoked a pack-o-sigs a day???)

Title meaning: -stare = uhh stares, like a lot, its weird, does it blink???; Soothsayer specific -> this cat can see into your soul and across the vail of death and see what your future holds

Role: Soothsayer

Mother: River'riddle

Father: Monarch Bat'flight

Siblings: Monarch Light'fall

Mate: Worm'soil

Other notable kin: Heir Night (nephew)

Extra Notes: her name was originally Garlicnose but after a series of polls I have decided on Spindle'stare as it's new name! Hooray!

Character Summary:

this ones long bec she's my blorbo, sorry not sorry :P

Soothsayers are born absolute weirdos, that's actually how a Kinship can tell that a cat is probably a Soothsayer. They are all not entirely there, because they walk the line between the living and the dead, this gives them the gift of foresight into the future and the ability to commune with the dead, but it also makes them distant, odd, they act like their minds are often in a whole other plane from regular cats.

In Spindle'stare's case, its just really kooky, an absolute creature. Though she is also very traumatized, which is kinda a given for Soothsayers... but it's even worse for her. As a kit her connection to the Stars was almost entirely cut off, and was instead taken over by the Dark Maw... The Maw wanted control over the Hawthorns, and becoming their future Soothsayer's spiritual source was one of the best ways to do this.

Deep deep down I think that Spindle knows there is something off about her spiritual connection, but she doesn't really process this at all. She pretty much believes that she has a normal connection and is totally talking to the Stars and not the Dark Maw. Sometimes she gets a random breakthrough connection to the Stars and is bombarded by so many messages and warnings from the ancestors she is pretty much unable to process it and just becomes even more confused and overwhelmed, acting even more strange than normal.

As a result of the Dark Maw's hold on Spindle, the Soothsayer has not been able to aid the kinship in ways it should be able to. During Spindle's training and apprenticeship the Kinship went through a horrible illness that killed many many cats, everyone questioned why Spindle was unable to receive prophecies foretelling these deaths, or guiding them to a cure... Spindle was simply helpless and useless in a time what the kinship needed a spiritual guide the most... This event has left the Kinship not all too trusting of Spindle's guidance, and has left Spindle lost and confused as to why the Stars do not with to help her.

Though Spindle seems like an old kooky lady she is actually only around 4 cycles old aka. in her early 30s in human years. Spindle was littermates with Monarch Light'fall, they were extremally close, and Light was often the only one who could keep her stable, in the present, and more herself. Spindle was devastated at Light'fall's death and she fell deeper into the spiritual plane as a result, only Spinde'stare's mate Worm'soil is able to bring Spindle into clarity these days, and it is far more difficult to do so.

Spindle spends much of it's time with her mate Worm'soil, they are one of the few cats who are not creeped out by her, they understand her and love it deeply despite it's strangeness. They were childhood friends, and grew even closer during the era of illness in their youth... both of them bonded over the extreme pressure on them at the time, Spindle with the expectation of life saving prophecies and omens, and Worm with the health of the Kinship as a Healer apprentice.

The two of them are now two fucked up middle aged women(ish) who are just trying to survive their high stress roles in their very problematic kinship... They can often be found hanging out on their lonesome together, with Spindle buried in Worm's fluff <3

#I forgor to post this for mothssss im sorry T-T #cryptid's the hawthorns #spindle'stare #warrior cats #warriors ocs #soothsayer #xenofiction #warriors #warrior cats ocs

[ladiemars]

I love Nor and her giant sad puppy eyes, I would love to know more about her

thank you!! have a hastily drawn nor ft. her giant sad sopping wet puppy eyes:

+ a giant nor lore dump below the cut જ⁀➴

➸ her whole character was inspired by that one textpost that’s like, “characters with both the abject terror and desperation of an animal that knows it is cornered and destined to be eaten. you just can't get that kind of angst out a successful hunter” and this quote by james harriet: “if having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.”

➸ she’s is the product of a union between a drow woman and a deep imaskari man. for those who don’t know, the deep imaskari are a human subrace (from 3e) that have stone-like skin and hair that’s white or black. because that’s nor’s human half, most people assume she’s completely drow upon meeting her, since did not inherit any features from her father that would make her look less like her drow mother.

➸ the deep imaskari live longer than other humans—up to 550 years—so nor ages at a rate more akin to drow and elves than half-elves or humans. nor believes she’s currently around seventy years old, though she could be off by a decade or two. she’s not sure when she was born and has long periods without human contact. she really isn’t sure how much time has passed.

➸ she has no given name, but eventually ended up going by the name ratcatcher, which is what the locals in baldur’s gate called her. halsin is the one who names her nor shortly after they meet, which is the elven word for “passion” and also “run.”

➸ this excerpt from one of my fics sums up her urchin/orphan to urban ranger/beastmaster pipeline pretty well:

➸ around the age of twenty, nor grew to resent humanity so much that she decided to leave baldur’s gate and live in the forest with only animals for company for half a century. (this is when she lost track of time completely.) in the forest, she became an expert in survival, attuning her ears to the slightest twitch in the air, to every noise and smell. she lived in a cave and slept curled up beside velvet on a bed of willow leaves. the events of baldur’s gate 3 is the first time in decades that she’s had social interaction.. and it shows.

➸ she has a little wolfdog companion named velvet. (i’ve drawn him and her and halsin and scratch here). he was another half-breed who didn’t quite being anywhere, so they bonded very deeply. (fun fact: velvet killed the elder brain in my first playthrough as nor. he’s a legend in faerun now.)

➸ laezel is her bestie. they are ride or die. neither of them understand a damn thing about faerun or its inhabitants. but that also means they don’t judge each other for anything, cause they both just kind of assume what the other is doing is normal

➸ a big part of her character is her dynamic with the emperor. she gets manipulated by him so bad because he tells her everything a forgotten, unloved creature wants to hear: i need you, i’ll protect you, you’re not like other people, we’re a team, you can trust me, i want you to join me, you aren’t alone. it’s not until he begins to pressure and compel her to become illithid against her will she starts to fear him and his power over her, and after certain revelations she realizes he was using her and turns on him altogether.

➸ obviously she romances halsin. i love the dynamic of beastmaster/druid. they’re extremely well suited because they’re both such inherently good people and they bond a lot over their love for nature. they are also the only two people who can really understand each other’s animalistic quirks.

i’ve written some fics with her that you can read here if you’re interested. >:3c

#nor #ratcatcher #baldur’s gate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 oc #bg3 fanart #mars draws #asks #my art #baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate #dungeons and dragons #half drow #ranger tav

[builtbybrokenbells]

LEX TALIONIS | ORSUS

orsus — a beginning, commencement, an undertaking, attempt

Masterlist | Taglist

listen while reading: it will come back - hozier

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader, Josh Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 24k (😘)

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, hookups, one night stands, fingering (f!receiving) oral (f!receiving), impact play, cum play, sir kink, dom/sub, bratty sub, praise, degradation, name calling, touch of spit play, lots and lots of dirty talk, mentions of free use kink, choking, biting, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, the briefest mention of oral (m!receiving), manipulation/manipulative phrases, gaslighting, toxic themes, an unbearable amount of flirting, talking bad about men, superiority complexes, mentions of toxic/bad past relationships/bad experiences with men, a conniving evil reader, mentions of cheating/infidelity/home wrecking, mentions of addictions/substance abuse, mentions of death/dying, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

Here it is, I hope you enjoy my loves 🤍 (lightly edited)

According to Wikipedia, brotherhood is an ethical relationship between people, which is based on love and solidarity. According to the Oxford Dictionary, it is the feeling of kinship with and closeness to a group or all people. To the core, brotherhood is family, whether blood or not. A brother is someone you would give your life for at the drop of a dime, someone who you would protect with your life and avenge with a fervor. You can be siblings, cut from the same cloth and raised side by side, yet never once feel such things. You can meet a person on the sidewalk amidst the city chaos and feel for them in a moment, what you could not feel for someone else in a lifetime. Brotherhood is not a right, but a privilege, and one so sacred that not many are truly deserving of the title.

For Joshua and Jacob, brotherhood began in the womb, and carried on well into their adult lives. In this particular instance, deserving was not nearly a good enough descriptor for the men in question.

Two souls destined to be infinitely intertwined and lucky enough to be born as twins. For the pair, loyalty was without question and love was always abundant. Since their first minute on earth, they knew that the world would always seem less cruel when there was someone to depend on walking beside you every step of the way. In their younger years, they were akin in so many ways that it was hard to comprehend by times, and as the years passed, it only further proved the two were identical in more ways than just physical. Morals, attitudes and interests were shared, as well as dreams and desires. Even in their differences, they were determined to support each others dreams as if it were their very own aspirations.

The love the two had for each other was hard to comprehend, especially if you had never felt something so strongly before, and sometimes, it was easy to feel jealousy at the sight of the two together. It appeared as though they were the only two people in the world, and the only person the other cared about. Although their bond was strong, they had room in their hearts for more than just each other. Despite their differences, and the fact that they understood each other best, they both loved fiercely and deeply, and that love extended far beyond themselves. They loved their siblings, their parents, and their friends. They loved the bugs burrowing in the soil in the front yard, and the birds that flew overhead. They loved the trees and the rivers, the flowers and even the pesky weeds that grew at an unprecedented rate.

Love, by times, seemed like the only thing the two boys knew how to do. As they grew, so did their hearts, and that was one thing that never seemed to flee them.

When they lost their childlike nature, turning into awkward pre-teens with gangly limbs and cracking voices, the differences began to emerge. Jake, who loved to pick away at his father’s old guitar, seemed to take the side of reservation. He watched often, yet only spoke sometimes (unless of course, he cornered you with a topic that he had a staggering amount of passion for). He fell in love with the six stringed instrument, and all of the girls in his grade in high school. He was shy, but he was always lending an ear to anyone in need. Often quick with a joke and developing an awful habit for flirting, he seemed to make everyone fall in love with him without ever needing to try. His mystery aided his charm, and cemented his memory in people's minds.

Josh, who did not care who you were or where you came from, would talk your ear off about anything and everything that came to mind. His smile was always bright, and his heart was written on his sleeve. He took to the theater, and sang along to whatever song Jake had learned to play that week. He was a socialite who loved company, and seemed to bring out the extrovert in Jake when the two spent enough time in close proximity. He too, made people fall in love but for much different reasons than his brother. He was kind, generous, and extravagant. People fell because it was hard to keep your eyes off of him.

The sun and the moon respectively, making the whole world fall to their feet without ever realizing it.

As they grew into young adults, their personalities seemed to stick, only ever growing more intense as the days went on. Although the two seemed to have grown into different people, if you cared to look close enough, the similarities were not hard to find. In their faces, of course, it was not hard to tell that they were twin brothers, but it was more than that. In the warm brown of their irises, when they looked at you for too long, the same feeling would wash over you; like comfort on a cold day, or sleep to the exhausted. Their charm, unruly yet soft and subtle, would sneak up on you and sink its claws deep into your skin before you would even notice. In their touch, the same searing sensation and intoxicating feeling. The two were more alike than what showed on the surface, and you could easily find it if you had enough dedication to discovery.

More than anything else, their bond steadily grew stronger as they grew older. Brotherhood to them was not a title, nor was it a given. It was a lifestyle, and something they chose to do every minute of every day. Caring, loving, and understanding each other was of great importance to them, and it certainly was not easy work. They could have succumbed to sibling rivalry, quarrels that carried over into adulthood and bred resentment, but it was not something that they wanted for themselves. Their relationship was of utmost importance, and they made sure that anyone who stepped foot into their lives understood the requirement of loving both of them just the same.

They would always be each other’s biggest supporters, cheering them on in every aspect of life. They would be best friends, there to share every moment of happiness and suffer through every failure. They would be the ones to dish out the hard truths, and the harshest advice when needed. They were anchors, keeping each other grounded when life began to spin out of control. It was important for them to maintain the strength of their relationship, especially when living such a crazy and difficult lifestyle. Traveling the world and playing music was a dream come true, but it was even more so to them because they could share it with the people they cared about most, but it was strenuous and tiresome. It was easy to get buried under the stress and neglect their own health and wellbeing. It was easy for relationships to fail and for people to forget about them while they were gone for months at a time, which was exactly why family was so important to them. Without each other, they would crack and crumble under the pressure of the world.

A love like such only comes once in a lifetime, and the two felt incredibly lucky to be able to have it from the moment that they were born, until the very last breath. Even after death, they knew that their love would carry on, and they would search for each other in every lifetime to come. A bond so strong was not something to take for granted, and not something that you would ever want to let go of.

On the other hand, there are some people in the world who simply can not comprehend what it’s like to feel such a bond, nor can they comprehend how to care for someone more, or even equally to how they feel about themselves. You can call it narcissistic, but in some cases, it’s rarely ever that intense. It boils down to the fact of routine, and in some instances, people spend years without ever meeting anyone who could make them feel so strongly. Decades spent on their lonesome, having to stand up for themselves and watch over their own shoulder with nobody else to help carry the burden. Countless days of loneliness, constantly attempting to find new ways to cope and distract. Never anyone to share the success with, and no shoulder to cry on when times get tough. After a while, the idea of letting someone else experience such things alongside you becomes more of a fear than it is a comfort.

These people, as we have all have met, are known best as sharks or snakes; always awaiting the chance to steal an opportunity for themselves, and forever willing to throw someone else under the bus to achieve it. They are crude, unapologetic, and arrogant creatures who are often perceived as the enemy. In most instances, they are, and it is important to know that although sad, the reasoning behind their actions does not excuse their behavior. They are usually aware of their own actions, and most of the time, have little care for the people they hurt in the process. After all, how can you care about another when you’ve spent an entire lifetime only ever concerned about yourself?

You, a lovely woman on the surface, yet a nightmare just below, was a prime example of such evil.

You had spent an entire lifetime trying to find someone who made your heart beat faster. You longed to find someone who could turn your world upside down, or even someone who would promise to stick by your side during the hardest of times. Quickly, you understood that most people were willing to promise, but never follow through. In your younger years, you had your heart broken and your earth shattered by men and female friends who did not truly care about you as a person. For some time, you continued on the search despite the aching of your own chest, dedicated to knowing someone completely and wholly. After a while, you began to realize that the likelihood of finding such a person was near zero.

So, once you moved to a new city and started over, you decided that life could only begin again if every part of you was reinvented. At first, it was difficult to train your brain to think differently than it always had, but in truth, it did not take too long before you had learned the art of simply not caring. You realized that your heart had been your downfall the whole time; the relentless pining, the constant searching, and the endless begging for someone to love you. Other people had never been your issue, because you should have known better than to put your trust in anyone other than yourself. By closing yourself off and leaving dependency behind, you had managed to find happiness after all, and it did not come in the form of a man with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and sweet nothings stuck in his teeth.

Instead of being the victim of heartbreak, you had turned yourself into a heartbreaker. It was a cruel world that was only survivable if you were crueler, so you did what you had to do. The first few times were trial and error; you took people on dates and brought them back to your apartment for nothing further than mediocre sex. In the morning, you pushed them out the door with a smile, and answered a few texts here and there until you found the courage to cut them off. Every so often, you caved and fell back into your old habits, feeling guilty for being so harsh. You’d let them come back for another night of unfulfillment and only then would you find the courage to hit the block button.

Eventually, it became easier, and much more fun. You learned to seek out the men who you knew would be good in bed, rather than the ones who claimed to be good in bed. The quiet ones, talking sweetly and sometimes even nervously seemed to be the ones with the most breathtaking performances. You were nicer than you wanted to be, but after a while, even that seemed to flee you, too. You became witty, smart-mouthed and bold, testing your limits with every interaction. Your sharp tongue and your fiery eyes made people fall to your feet, and you began to understand that playing nice had never got you what you wanted. Now, sex was the only thing that caught your attention, and good sex was the only thing that could keep your attention. Rarely did you ever find yourself looking for a second date or a lasting relationship, and the longer you continued on your warpath, the more you felt like you were losing your humanity.

Men at bars appeared less as people, and more like conquests. It quickly turned into a game for you, and remorse was an emotion you no longer knew how to feel. Occasionally, you would make bets with your only acquaintances you’d made since moving to the city, just to see how fast you could get someone in your bed (or better, the bathroom). It was fun for you, but every man you left behind seemed dazed and confused, wondering if the moment was real or only a figment of their imagination. They only had a first name, never a last and definitely no phone number to call. You cashed out your earnings on cheap tequila shots and moved on to the next bar before they could catch up to you.

To some, it was a sad lifestyle to live, yet you never seemed to see the issue. You were so angry and bitter about the poor treatment you had received in the past that it blinded you enough to ignore the damage you caused. Then again, it was uncertain that if you did know how much turmoil you had caused, if you would even feel bad about it at all. You’d taken a liking to your newest personality, one in which you always got what you want and did not back down until you had it, and one in which your needs were always met first. After twenty some odd years of being on the receiving end of pain, you didn’t mind dishing it out every now and again.

After all, not every person who fell victim to your charm was upset with the lack of a second date. Most were quite content with a simple hookup, and you were certain that plenty were even in search of that alone. The ones that did get their feelings hurt were most likely over it in the morning, and the girlfriends of your conquests should have realized how terrible their boyfriends were long before you were ever involved in the equation. Not your man, not your problem, as you liked to believe.

Whatever could be used as an excuse for your abhorrent actions was made into one of your many personal mantras.

And so it was a Saturday night, the summer heat sweltering outside the Nashville bar and pooling inside every time the door was opened. The music was loud, the bass pounding in your ear drums and rattling your bones. The spot was busy, but no more than it usually was, and you were lined up at the counter with your aforementioned acquaintances while you waited to be served. Although, acquaintance was a strong term for the people you regularly spent time with, as they were no more than strangers who you drank with at the bar every now and again. The only reason you could stand to be around each other was because you adorned the same poisonous outlook, and your feelings could not be hurt when you were already prepared for the worst.

“Look, there’s one for you, Olivia.” You pointed across the room to a tall man hovering by the dance floor. He had a beer gripped tightly in his hand as he overlooked the crowd, hoping to find a potential suitor.

“Why don’t you want him?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked in the direction you were pointing to.

“We just got here. I have to keep my options open, and he’s not my type.” You chuckled, neglecting any form of eye contact with her. You played the same trick on her every time you went out, and she hadn’t seemed to catch on to it yet. Her fragile ego made it easy to convince her to take the average looking ones so you could save the best for yourself. “Besides, he’s your type, isn’t he? Tall, blonde…” you trailed off, refusing to mention his mediocre looks and his apparent lack of brains.

“Yeah, I guess he is.” She nodded, flashing you a smile. “Thanks!”

There were two types of women who loved the lifestyle you had chosen for yourself; those who had too much self confidence, and those who had been stripped of it and were in desperate search of it.

“Anytime.” You forced a smile, trying to keep up the facade that it was out of the kindness of your heart. You turned back towards the bartender, staring him down in hopes he would reach you faster. He was busy serving a plethora of drinks to a group of young girls who you doubted were of legal drinking age. When he finished up, he caught your eye and you gave him a smile, doing everything you could to convince him to serve you next. Luckily, it seemed to draw him in, and within seconds he was walking your way.

“What can I get you, darlin’?” He asked, his southern accent hanging thick in the air as he took his time looking you up and down. He was young, but still seemed a bit older than you. He had a cute smile, and a seemingly muscular build. Attractive, but definitely not what you were in search of. You leaned forward over the bar top slightly, ensuring he could get a good look down the front of your low cut dress, hoping the sight would persuade him to give you the first drink on the house.

It didn’t work all of the time, but definitely enough for you to try your luck.

“Double vodka cranberry, please.” You gave a soft smile, batting your eyelashes a time or two to add some extra sweetness. “And a shot of tequila, too.” He took a long look over your face, taking in the sultry stare and the subtle gloss on your lips. The small upturn of the corners of your mouth led him to believe that you were up to no good, but the mischief sparkling in your eyes intrigued him beyond belief. Paired with the soft skin exposed on your neck and chest, illuminated even under the dim bar light, he was enamoured enough to trip over himself to please you.

“Anything else?” He asked, looking up to meet your eyes.

“No, I think that’s fine for now.” You assured him. Without any further comment, he turned towards the wall of alcohol to grab the bottle of vodka. You drummed your fingers against the tabletop as you watched him mix your drink, biting back a smirk as you watched him overpour the shots ever so slightly. When he turned around, you pretended to search through your purse to grab your card. As your fingers closed around the thin plastic, he held his hand out to stop you.

“First one’s on me.” He smiled.

“Are you sure?” You questioned half-heartedly, trying to feign some air of surprise.

“Positive.” He assured you, sliding them your way.

“Thanks, honey.” You flashed a smile, sliding the shot glass and salt shaker towards you. You licked the back of your hand, shaking a few grains of salt on to it before grabbing the tequila. As you raised the shot glass to your lips, you licked the salt off your skin and threw your head back, swallowing down the liquid. Before the taste could overwhelm you, you placed the lime wedge between your lips and sucked the juice from it. You placed the glass back down on the table, sending the bartender a subtle wink upon realizing he was watching the whole ordeal. Without another word, you grabbed your mixed drink and took a sip from it, washing the harsh tequila from your tongue.

As you turned around, you intended to step away from the bar and make your way towards the small stage, where there looked to be a band preparing their instruments for a soundcheck. Before you could, your eyes landed upon something much more intriguing than the amateur music group hoping to make their big break. There was a man, not very tall, yet appeared to be the most attention grabbing thing in the entire room, and inexplicably charismatic without even knowing it. He was not looking in your direction, but you wished he was, and upon catching sight of his soft and inviting features, you knew you would make it a point to make him notice you before the night was through. The dumb blonde nursing his third beer and already bordering intoxication was not your type, nor was the overly flirty bartender, but whoever was standing amidst the chaos of the crowd, whiskey glass tucked neatly in his hand and brown hair flowing gracefully off his shoulder, definitely was.

He was in blue jeans that appeared to be very worn. The knees and thighs had turned near white with how thin the denim had grown. The fabric hung from his figure slightly, cuffed at his ankles to show off the expensive looking brown boots he was wearing. On his upper half was a black button up, only tucked into his jeans on one side while the other hung down loosely over his hip. The top two buttons were undone, showing a flash of tanned skin from his chest. It made your mouth water, and it made you curious to see the rest of him. His face, when you finally had the opportunity to see the whole picture, seemed to take your breath away. His smile held a playful joy that was almost infectious, and his eyes were warm and only ever seemed to draw you in further.

You decided at that moment, it was imperative that you take the opportunity that was presented to you.

You were never one to jump first, but this time, you couldn’t seem to resist the temptation. Usually, you loved drawing them into you, to enchant them enough to make them approach you. You thought it was entertaining to watch them stutter over their words as they tried to persuade you of their intent. This time, you knew that this was a game where time was of essence, and if you did not jump at the chance, someone else would definitely beat you to it. You weren’t sure about his game, or if he was one with undying loyalty to a woman who did not want to be with him that night. You were unsure if he was already stuck in a game of flirtation with another woman at the bar, or if maybe, you were not his type at all. No matter, you still believed it to be your best bet to try, because leaving without a piece of him was not something you were willing to do, or at least do happily.

You drew in a long breath, swiping your tongue over your front teeth to ensure there was no lipstick smudged on them. Then, you ran a finger through your curled hair, arranging it neatly to frame your face. You took a sip of your drink, surveying the area to determine what the best move would be. He was next to a taller man with curly hair and a big nose, who was without a doubt, just as attractive. You decided that if you could not have your first choice, he would do it for you just the same.

A break in conversation allowed for you to make your move; the nameless boy turned away from his company for a moment, and then the taller boy seemed to abandon him in search of a booth on the other side of the bar. Before you could think up a line to deliver as you approached him, he took a step in your direction. Your stomach fluttered nervously and your heart sped as he continued moving towards the bar. You weren’t ready, but you weren’t willing to let it stop you from getting what you wanted. Instead, you turned towards the bar again and changed your course of action. You prayed that he would do exactly as you expected and come to stand beside you, because only then would you be able to make the first move.

After a few seconds of uncertainty, you had to bite back a smile when you felt a body present itself next to you. Immediately, before you even turned your head, you were hit with an intoxicating scent. Woody and deep, almost as if amber was delicately laced between the notes of sandalwood. Even with the heaviness, there seemed to be something light, almost like a citrus or a flowery smell. As if in an instant, your switch was flipped and you were ready to play. Slowly, you turned your head to the side and casted a careful glance at him. He had an empty glass in his hand, the ice melting due to the warmth of his palm surrounding it. Now that he was next to you, you could see the subtle gold of a hoop earring settled on his lobe, and a chain dangling loosely over his collarbones. There was a bracelet around his wrist and a ring sat on his middle finger. Suddenly you were overwhelmed by the idea of his fingers closed around your neck instead of the cup, and your stomach twisted into a knot.

The bartender seemed to be completely immersed in something, failing to notice his new customer. You smiled to yourself, wondering if you could use it to your advantage. The man had yet to notice your interest, and you were happy to keep it that way for a moment. The same bartender who had served you moments before passed by, not even giving the boy a second thought. He seemed to shift uncomfortably on his feet as he raised a hand to call him over, almost as if he was nervous to be rude. The bartender looked up for a moment, but continued on doing his previous task.

‘Perfect,’ you thought, sipping from your drink. The situation seemed to be resolving itself as the man beside you lowered his arm in defeat, tapping his fingers against the wood grain as he patiently waited his turn. You observed him as he did so, pitying him only slightly for his lack of confidence. You began to wonder if he was timid in all areas of his life, and if he was, how easy it would be to break him free from that chain. When the bartender took a step in your direction, intending to move past you to the customers at the other end of the line, you raised a hand to him and gave a sickly sweet smile. His eyes gave a sparkle as they landed upon your face, and his attention was quickly focused on nothing other than you. He cut towards you, ready to take your order again.

“Another shot?” He asked, already half-turned to grab the tequila bottle. You have a chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“My friend wanted to order, actually.” You said, nodding your head towards the boy beside you. “But I’ll take a shot too, once he gets his drink.”

“Oh, sure thing.” He said, averting his gaze to the person next to you instead. You felt a pair of eyes burning into you, but you did not want to look yet. Instead of addressing your notion of friendship, he cleared his throat and smiled at the man across the counter. He waited a moment before he spoke, wondering if you might have anything else to say. Eventually, he began to order and you listened intently to hear the sound.

“Double shot of Woodford, please.” He said, his tone low and gravelly. You could not ignore the rush of emotion that flooded you from the simple sound alone. “And I’ll get hers, too.” Now, you couldn’t resist the temptation to look at him. You shifted in place, turning towards him ever so slightly and catching his eye. Now that he was looking straight at you, his gaze heavy and his face close, you knew you had made the right choice. He was the only person in the whole bar that would be able to affect you with something as simple as a shared glance.

“Woodford?” You asked, your lip turning up into a smirk. “Expensive taste.”

“I can say the same about you.” He said, watching the bartender reach for a bottle of Don Julio. You gave a slight shrug, brushing off the comment. “Friends, eh?” He asked, addressing your earlier comment.

“Just figured you might want a drink.” You said, elusive to the real reason you’d called the bartender over. “Didn’t seem like he was very eager to serve you.”

“‘Preciate it, sweetheart.” He said, grabbing his drink from the counter as it was served. He swirled the ice around the glass for a moment, pondering his next words. “If we’re friends, I s’pose it would be nice to know your name.”

“Are you asking ‘cause you want to know, or ‘cause you feel like you have to?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as a shot was placed in front of you. Seconds later, a lime wedge and salt shaker was placed next to it. You looked over at him, noticing that he was still watching you. You’d caught his attention, and in the exact way you had been hoping to.

“I wouldn’t’ve asked if I didn’t care.” He said, taking a sip of the amber liquid in his cup. “I’ve never been the type to entertain people I’m not interested in.” He had a drawl to his words that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. It didn’t sound like a southern accent, but then again, neither did your own. Perhaps both of you had come to Nashville to find a new life.

“So you’re interested?” You smirked, turning your head fully towards him now. He didn’t respond, instead taking another sip. “Y/n.” You said, smiling at his strong attitude. You liked it, and you appreciated the forward response. It made your job so much easier. “You?”

“Jake.” He said, seemingly pleased with your words. “And to answer your question, yes.” He grinned, setting his glass back down on the table. You took the opportunity to think over your next move while taking the shot he’d so kindly bought for you. You placed the empty shot glass back on the counter, sucking the juice from the lime as the burn traveled from your chest to the pit of your stomach.

“Jake,” You pondered the name, imagining nothing good as it infiltrated your mind. You imagined how it would sound, laced delicately around your tongue with his head between your legs. You wondered how it would hang in the air, heavy amidst the desire that would surround you two. “I like it.” You deducted, understanding that all of the aforementioned things would come to life before the night was through.

“I’m glad.” He let out a small laugh, looking over your face for a moment. There was a twinkle in his eye that you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t mischievous, but almost seemed to be devious, like he was thinking and planning the exact same things you were. “Are you here with anyone tonight?”

“That depends.” You said, taking a sip from your straw, washing down the bitter lime and lingering tequila. “What kind of company are you wondering about?” You looked over at him, noticing his eyes still lingering over you. He gave you a small smirk, understanding that elusiveness was a part of your charm. He didn’t seem bothered by your indirect response, and if anything, he found it intriguing.

“The kind that takes you home with them at the end of the night.” His counter for your mystique was to be blunt, which did catch you off guard. For someone who seemed timid at a distance, he was awfully forward now that you were speaking. It made you wonder if you misjudged, or if he was hiding that part of him particularly well. You decided that if he was hiding it, it was for a reason, and one that you were rather eager to know about.

“No,” You shook your head. You debated elaborating, but decided to bite your tongue instead.

“Are you looking for someone to take you home, sweetheart?” He asked, pressing further as you watched him. “Is that why you were trying to get my attention?” You tried to keep a straight face as you pieced together his words. At face value, you took it as a general inquiry about the bartender, but you knew people better than to take anything at face value. He meant something deeper, but you didn’t want to mention it. You had faith in your ability to get him to cave, first.

“Wouldn’t say I was looking for your attention, honey. Seems as though it just happened.” You lied through your teeth, letting the accusation roll off your shoulders with ease. One of your biggest flaws was always responding to things as if it were an attack, and your defense was up; you wanted him, but not enough to bend to his will. You’d learned a long time ago that desperation was not a good look for you, and you much preferred it on someone else’s face.

“No?” He questioned, calling your bluff. “So you’re telling me you weren’t watching me earlier?” A prickle of indignation was felt in your spine as he spoke and you felt the need to correct him, even if he was right.

“Sneaky.” You muttered, your eyes flickering to his hand still wrapped around the glass. You couldn’t give up now, because that would leave him with the upper hand. Arguing seemed to be what he was hoping for, just so he could put you in your place, so you did the opposite; you admitted to the fact, but only to regain control of the situation. “You caught me.” You shrugged your shoulders, giving him an innocent smile. “So, what now?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled. “Just wanted to hear you say it.” You rolled your eyes at him, but it was playful. Something about him was less bothersome; if anyone else were to be playing the same cards, you would have walked away, but he had an odd sort of charm about him. Plus, his face certainly didn’t hurt the case. “That didn’t answer my first question, though.” He said, his gaze growing slightly stronger. “Are you looking for someone to take you home?”

“Is that an offer, or just your curiosity getting the best of you again?” He gave another low chuckle at your reluctance to answer.

“Both.” His answer was curt, but you appreciated it. “If you’re interested, of course.” Normally, you would have made him chase you a bit, or work a little harder than what he’d already done. Other times, you would have jumped his bones so fast that he wouldn’t know what hit him, just to leave him alone to ponder all that happened in the short time. Right now, you did not feel like doing either of those things. He had piqued your interest in the best possible way, and for once, you felt like talking, even if it was going to lead to the same old outcome.

In another universe, maybe you even would have bent your rules for him and pursued something more.

But, of course, fantasizing about an alternative universe is only ever harmful in the long run, especially if you aren’t willing to put in the work to alter the universe you’re already stuck in.

And you, a secret romantic buried deep under the surface who covered their own heartbreak by becoming a player, had never once considered putting in the work to change.

After all, why would you ever want to change when playing dirty was so much fun?

“I’ve never been the type of person to entertain someone I’m not interested in.” You smirked, throwing back the last of your drink as you let him digest his own words that you’d thrown so powerfully back in his face. As much as it seemed like a lie, it was not; you would never entertain a man you did not want to be with. You only cared for leading them on enough to get what you wanted, then pretending they did not exist.

“Happy to see we’re on the same page, then.” He chuckled, seeming like he wanted to move closer to you, but he held himself back.

“Where are you from, Jake?” You asked, taking the step for him and scooting a little closer. It was not enough to touch him, but there was a notable difference in space between you now.

“Michigan.” He smiled, showing appreciation for your efforts to be closer. “And you?”

“Atlanta.” You responded, flagging the bartender over for another drink. “You’re a long way from home.” You noted, watching as the worker took your used glass and turned to mix you another. “What made you decide to live here?”

“Work.” He replied, sipping away at his own beverage. Now that you were closer, the smell of his cologne seemed to be suffocating you, but it was with great pleasure to succumb to such an end.

“Must be a good job if you were willing to move so far.” He gave a small smile, nodding his head after a moment.

“You can say that.” The look in his eyes made you believe it was no ordinary office job, nor a regular paycheck that motivated him.

“Was it a job, or was it a dream?” You pressed further, studying his expression.

“Both, I suppose.” He replied, curious about how easily you picked up on it. “I’m in a band.” You could not deny your interest in the topic, nor your personal infatuation with musicians in general. You should have guessed, but somehow it was so much sweeter coming from his mouth. Everything seemed to be sweeter when he was the one saying it. “What are you here for?”

“To start over.” You shrugged. “New place, new people… new everything.”

“What were you trying to get away from?” The question struck a sore spot, but you tried not to let it show. You liked to view your move as something brave, rather than a cowardly act. When he worded it as such, it made it seem like you were running out of fear rather than confidence.

“I wouldn’t say I was running from anything. More or less just looking for something more.” You explained.

“Have you found it yet?” The question was a loaded one, and you weren’t sure if you had the answer he was looking for. The conversation seemed to run deeper than anything you were intending, yet you didn’t seem to mind. Usually when at the bar, especially with a man, the conversation revolved around sexual desires and painful flirting. This one was different, and it seemed like he wanted to see into your soul before ever taking your clothes off. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t mind it.

You hadn’t found what you were looking for when you moved to the city, but you had definitely convinced yourself otherwise. When you made the big move, you were young and naive. You had been desperately in love with the idea of love despite never knowing what it actually felt like. As you decorated a new apartment with memorabilia of a different lifetime, you fantasized about replacing it with love letters and pictures of a man you had yet to meet. You went to bed nightly with a melancholy hanging over the room and a longing for a life you were never destined to live. That was what you had been in search of, and instead, you had given up. You filled the void with sex and money, drinking away the bitter taste of your own failure and falling into bed with people who did not matter. It was a sad exchange, and no real replacement for the fulfillment you once craved, yet you had been doing it for so long now that it was the only thing you knew how to do.

Although it was nice for someone to pick your brain for once, and it was thrilling to finally be faced with stimulating conversation, you were a creature of habit. It was too risky to give too much of yourself away, even if you liked all you had seen from Jake. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but you were too selfish to let him go. You needed the notch in your belt, even if you were sacrificing his heart in the process. You needed to regain control of the conversation, to hold the power in your hands once more, and you knew you wouldn’t have to work very hard for it. As you conjured the best response to his question, you almost felt a shred of guilt about using him for your own personal gain. You decided that out of all of them, his heart would be the hardest to break.

“Not yet, but I’m sure I will, someday.” You whispered, knowing that what you had been searching for was long out of reach for you. You had sinned so much that a simple lifestyle of love would never be in the cards for you. You had made your bed, and it was time to lie in it.

“Maybe I can help with that.” He said, his voice dropping ever so slightly. He was curious about you, and how after only minutes of knowing you, he could not imagine a world in which you did not exist. You drew him in so easily that he could not question whether it was a good idea or not. He found you inexplicably easy to need.

“Maybe so, rockstar.” You smiled up at him, knowing he could not. He could help with plenty of other things, but never that.

“Am I keeping you from anyone?” He asked, looking around the crowded bar for a moment, realizing he may have been taking you away from friends. You let out a chuckle, shaking your head.

“No, am I?”

“Definitely not.” He promised. “I’m here with my brothers. I see them enough—they can wait.”

“Don’t be like that, now.” You laughed. “You can find me later, when they’re drunk enough that they don’t notice you’re missing.” Even if you tried to make yourself seem heartless, it didn’t feel right cutting in on his family time. Humanity was something you didn’t often feel, but he seemed to pull on strings of your heart you no longer believed to exist. “I promise I’ll stick around.”

“No way,” he laughed, brushing you off. “I’d much rather get to know you, sweetheart. Plus, it saves me a headache from bickering with them all night.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Hesitation was still present in your voice, but if he was certain about it, you couldn’t find anything to complain about. Part of your hesitation stemmed from the fact that you did not want your night to be cut short by any distractions. The bar bathroom did not seem fitting for all you wanted to do with him, and if it took letting him go for a while to have him until the sun came up in the sky, you were okay with it.

“If you’re that worried, why don’t you come over and drink with us?” He offered, mistaking your reluctance as something selfless. Then again, he could not be upset if he were to discover your true intent, for his own was just as selfish. He feared that if he left you on your lonesome, someone else would catch your eye and he would lose his chance. Besides, inviting you to drink with the group wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had. In fact, he thought it might be quite enjoyable.

“Taking me to meet the family already?” You teased. “I must be special.” His lips upturned slightly, drawing your attention to the mustache that decorated his upper lip. It made his already beautiful face all the more remarkable.

“You certainly are, angel.” He affirmed your statement, seemingly gravitating towards you the longer he held your gaze. “You did catch my attention, after all.” Before you knew it, his face was inches away from your own. He looked down at you over his nose, his eyelashes casting a slight shadow over his reddened cheeks, burning from the alcohol he was drinking. The smell of his cologne mixed with the whiskey on his breath was turning you into a mess, insanity calling your name the longer you stayed in the position.

“Takes a lot to do that, eh?” You asked, you voice barely heard over the sound of your hearts beating in time.

“Some would say so.” He smiled, warmer and less flirtatious than the ones before. He knew he had you how he wanted you, and he felt as though he could let go of the act for a moment. The tip of his nose was brushing against your own, making the temptation almost too much to resist. You wondered if he would strike first, or if you would have to take the risk yourself. He was a flirt, and seemingly just as big of one as you were, but you weren’t sure how deep his confidence truly lied. He’d known you for all but a half a drink, yet your claws seemed to strike deep. He was trapped, and he could run, but would always look back over his shoulder to ensure you were following.

“Have I caught your attention enough for you to kiss me?” You asked, your tone quiet but your words impactful. His hand reached out for your hip, his fingers settling gently over the silky material of your dress. The touch felt good, but it was not nearly enough. Above all, it perpetuated a vicious cycle, for you knew that a touch so addictive would not be something you could walk away from.

Perhaps Jake Kiszka was not the one trapped, and for once, you had backed yourself into a corner at the hands of his irresistible sin.

You knew better than to seek someone with the same deadly power, but you could not manage to keep yourself away. He’d kept it so well hidden that you failed to realize his power until the very minute his skin met your own.

He leaned forward, the gap closing between you as his lips landed on your own. The violence was disguised with sweetness, and wrapped up in a bow of desire. The faint taste of the whiskey he was drinking was dancing on your tongue, drawing you in alongside the warmth of his body. You raised your hand to his cheek, cupping it in your palm as his hand guided you into him. You had never experienced a feeling so overwhelming, and the sensation of his tongue gliding over your lower lip, begging to push any boundaries, was so powerful it nearly shattered your psyche. In an instant, you forgot about your plan to take him home and instead were plagued with an imminent need for him. You worried that you might not be able to make it to the bathroom with his hand so powerfully holding you in place. In that moment, you needed Jake more than you had ever needed anything in your entire life.

As he pulled away, you fought the urge to pull him right back in. He did not move too far away, almost as if he was waiting for you to do exactly that. “Is that the answer you were looking for?” It was the exact answer you were hoping for, and the two of you felt no need to go any further with formalities. You knew what you wanted, and waiting seemed pointless. Before the night was through, he would have you, and whether then be in a bed or the bathroom, he was not sure.

“A simple yes or no would have done the same.” You teased, running your thumb tentatively over the soft skin of his cheek. He seemed to lean into the touch, making your hesitation disappear.

“Right,” he chuckled, still a bit dazed from the intensity of the moment. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No need for that.” He couldn’t help but laugh at your response, leaning in and placing a shorter, sweeter kiss on your lips.

“Something to get you through meeting my brothers,” he explained, as if he needed an excuse to kiss you at all.

“Is that so?” You grinned. “They’re that bad?”

“No, not bad, just a lot.” He corrected, his hand still lingering on your hip. “Was hoping that if I kissed you, it would give you a reason to stick around.”

“I’m sure it’ll be quite alright. No need to stress yourself out, honey.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He sighed, wishing that he never brought up the idea at all. He would much rather stay at the bar, alone with you to do anything you wanted. With that, he pulled back from you and grabbed his drink from the counter. You did the same, watching him as he stepped away. Suddenly, a flood of fear ran through you and reached out, grabbing his arm before he could go any further. He gave you a confused expression, wondering what was wrong as you stepped towards him. You raised your hand to his face, letting your thumb swipe away some smudged lipstick decorating his lower lip.

“Don’t think pink is your color.” You giggled, releasing your hold on him.

“You sure?” He questioned. “I’m think I can pull it off.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, grabbing your drink from the counter. “Whatever you say, rockstar.” You said, waiting for him to lead the way.

“What, you really don’t think so?” He asked, extending his arm out to you. You joined him at his side, watching as he surveyed the room in an attempt to locate the booth his brothers were sat in. After a moment, he seemed to brighten up as his eyes landed on a booth with three people sat inside.

“Who knows, you could surprise me.” You replied, finding yourself looking in the same direction his eyes were pointing. As you did, it felt like you’d received a harsh blow to the stomach, nearly doubling over in shock as your gaze fixated on the booth. You knew it to be the right one because the curly headed boy from earlier was sitting at the edge of one bench, laughing at something the boy beside him had said. Across from him, though, was a side profile that was so stunning it nearly stole the air from your lungs. In an attempt to make sense of it, you looked over at Jake, recognizing the similarities instantly.

You were stuck wondering if it was a joke, or a perfectly wrapped present placed at your feet by the universe itself. The evil that normally ran through your veins seemed to increase tenfold as you understood that the door had opened for you to have access to not just a gorgeous, outlandishly charming man, but a set of (outstandingly beautiful) twins.

As Jake looked back at you, you covered your expression of joy in an instant, understanding that if you were going to pull it off, you needed to be as thorough and precise about your actions as possible. You did not want to pull one just to fumble the other, nor did you want to lose both of them in the process. Before you spoke, you chose your words incredibly carefully.

“I’m nervous,” you forced a small smile, trying your best to appear anxious as you spoke.

“What are you nervous about, angel?” He asked, stepping closer to you and seemingly falling straight into the trap.

“What if they don’t like me?” You offered, glancing over to the booth and back to him.

“Not possible, sweetheart. They’re quite easy to get along with. I’m sure they’ll love you.” He said, landing a gentle hand on your arm to reassure you.

“I want to go home with you tonight, Jake, but could we… keep it between ourselves? Just for now, at least.” You knew the words were incriminating, but you always had a plan in mind. If he responded the way you predicted, it would be easy enough from there.

“What, like it’s a bad thing?” He raised an eyebrow, trying to comprehend what your intent was.

“No, honey.” You shook your head, giving a small laugh. “Not that I usually kiss and tell anyway, but I’d rather them see me as a person, not just the girl their brother is trying to fuck. It changes the way you see people, sometimes.” You explained, looking carefully over his expression as you spoke. You tried to keep your words sweet, hoping it might sway him to see it your way, even if your way was not how you were presenting it. “Does that make sense?”

“It does, angel.” He nodded, giving you a smile. “We can do that, if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

“It does,” you let out a sigh, fake but clearly convincing. “Thank you.”

“You’ve got nothing to thank me for, sweetheart.” He said, moving his hand to the curve of you back as he guided you through the crowd. “At least not yet, anyway.” He said the second part much quieter, as if he was already ahead of the game of secrecy. You wondered if maybe he enjoyed it, or the idea of having you in private got him off even further. There was much left undiscovered about Jake, and you were excited to see more. More than anything, you were happy that the first phase of your plan had come to fruition so easily.

You allowed him to lead you towards the group of unnamed boys, only a small nervous stutter in your heart. This was something you feared might be beyond your capabilities, yet you could not ignore the urge to try. When a player is faced with a challenge, backing down is not an option, and when it came to the game, nobody was more committed than you were. The minute your eyes landed on the previously unmentioned twin brother, your heart was set upon the desire for both, and you had grown so selfish over the years that you had yet to feel a shred of remorse about it. You knew that caution was needed, and every moment needed to be carefully calculated. It was a daunting task that would make a weaker woman shy away, but you were confident in your own abilities. Try as you might, you could not turn down such an opportunity.

Jake loosened his grip on you as you drew near the end of your seclusion. As he approached the chatter-filled group, they turned to look at him. Their eyes didn’t take long to land on you, but once they did, they didn’t seem to want to leave. You were hyper aware of the skimpy dress hanging over your body, tasteful enough not to potray you as a slut, yet bold enough to catch ample amounts of attention. It did not come as a surprise when all of their gazes were not pointed at your face, but rather the peek of cleavage from the black material covering your chest, and soon after, the smooth and enticing skin of your legs.

“Found some extra company, Jacob?” If it was even possible, the curly headed boy who looked so similar to Jake was even more beautiful up close.

Much like his brother, the beauty seemed to sneak up on you, drawing you in from far away and stealing your life away without a second thought the minute you were within reach.

“Hope you don’t mind if I crash the party.” You gave him a sweet smile, hiding the hunger in your eyes so you did not scare him away.

“Not at all,” he said, sliding further into the booth to make room for the two of you. You sat first, allowing Jake to take the spot at the end of the table.

“She was here all by herself, figured she could use some friends.” Jake smirked, casting a sideways glance at you.

“Friends are plentiful, here.” The boy with long curly hair said, giving you a smile. “I’m Danny.”

“And I’m Sam, Jake’s brother.” The boy beside him cut in in as if he was afraid he’d be forgotten.

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m y/n.” You extended the sentiment, looking both of them over.

“And I’m Josh, also Jake’s brother.” The boy beside you spoke now, catching your attention and forcing you to look in his direction once again. His brown eyes were warmer than Jake’s, perhaps a tad bit friendlier. His hair was shaved down on the sides, and his cheeks were tinged with a blush from the alcohol he was drinking.

“A twin, perhaps?” You asked, hoping you were guessing correctly.

“How’d you know?” He raised an eyebrow, but did not seem surprised at the statement. He was intrigued by you, and his face did not hide the fact very well. The attraction was mutual, and you could read him like a book, much different than his brother. You held a cloud of desire around your head, and no man was privy to the reason why. It affected them all the same, and it was the reason why you were stuck in the situation you were in, now. Upon first glance, his twin brother felt all of the same things.

“Lucky guess.” You chuckled, taking in all of him that was up for offer. His clothes were a bit basic, yet seemed to suit him well. The long sleeved white sweater he was wearing appeared soft, and the cologne that radiated from him was mouth-watering. It was light, fresh smelling, like sage and cedar wood. Underneath that you could smell notes of long burnt out incense sticks that seemed to cling to the fibers of his clothing. He had on beige khakis, and even if his style was not exactly eye-catching, he pulled it off well. It was clean, concise, and did not draw attention away from his face that was seemingly crafted by gods.

“Takes one to know one?” He guessed, curious about your precise analysis of the two. You chuckled, shaking your head.

“No, just a good observer is all.” You replied. “Only child, actually.”

“Ah,” he hummed, his heavy-lidded eyes gazing curiously over your face. He was intrigued just as well as you were, which seemed to make your job so much easier. “Explains a lot, then. Nobody to keep you company, so you had to occupy yourself with watching everyone else.”

“I suppose you could put it that way.” You laughed, already beginning to notice the clear difference between the two. Josh was much more outgoing than his counterpart, with a goofy smile and booming voice. He seemed to say whatever was on his mind, whenever he wanted to. You weren’t sure if the liquor had any impact on that fact, or if he was like that all of the time. You were curious to know, and you knew that in due time, you would have all of the answers you wanted. “I think people are interesting.”

“That they are.” He agreed, sipping from a beer bottle in hand. “Am I interesting?” He was definitely drunk, but you did not mind; if anything, it seemed to rid you of the uncomfortable getting to know him phase.

“Incredibly.” You laughed, the sound filling the immediate air around you all and catching all of the attention. You were not afraid to admit to your own beauty, and how easy it was for you to catch attention. When you had a smile on your lips and a laugh stuck between your teeth, the genuine warmth pulled people in even further.

“I don’t know if I like how fast you answered that.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows with another grin lighting up his whole face.

“If it’s the truth, I don’t think it really matters if you like it or not.” You explained, keeping your tone light to match his. You tuned out of your conversation for a moment, just for long enough to gauge how Jake was taking to the two of you talking. Within seconds, you realized he was not even listening; he was stuck in a lighthearted argument with his brother across the table about something that seemed (to you, at least) incredibly unimportant. Once you were certain you were in the clear, you focused your attention on Josh again. Even after only a few seconds of looking elsewhere, his beauty seemed to smack you in the face with a newfound intensity, as if it was angry with you for not paying attention.

“Why are you here all alone, anyway?” Josh questioned, fidgeting with the corner of a napkin sat in front of him on the table.

“I figured spending a night at the bar would be better than sitting at home all alone.” You shrugged, knowing that you were only giving him half truths. Sitting there and flirting with him was the reason you came out alone, even if you did not know he would be the main subject of your focus beforehand. Well, one of them at least.

“And you were just lucky enough to run into a group as fun as us.” He added, making sure to motion towards the whole table as he spoke. He seemed as if he was big on talking with his hands, and it was a trait you thought was quite cute.

“Luck is a good word for it.” You agreed, deciding now that he’d invited you in, you could begin to seek out the weak spots of his strong personality. For a moment, you did not speak again. You took the time to study him in his entirety, but played it off as if you were invested in the bullshit argument still going down beside you.

His eyes were shining with amusement at his brother's butting heads, and his smile never faltered. You wondered if he was genuinely just happy all of the time, or if the breathtaking smile was a constant mask he’d learned how to perfect. He drummed his fingers against the tabletop with one hand as his other fidgeted with something else. It bounced between the aforementioned napkin and the waning edge of the beer bottle label. His foot tapped against the ground as well, every so often switching to a full on leg bounce. You had yet to confirm if it was anxiety making him jitter so badly, or if it was a surplus of energy. Either way, it seemed like he could get up at that very moment and run laps around the building.

There were silver earrings placed in different spots on his ear, yet the chains that dangled around his neck were gold. It was a contradiction to the way Jake wore his, with gold in his lobe and silver decoration on his chest. You thought it was interesting enough, but nothing worthwhile enough for you to remember. He hummed along to the songs the band was playing every now and again, showing his appreciation of music through minute actions. You wondered if Josh was also in the band that Jake had previously told you about. The song switched, and there was a twitch in Josh’s eye as his lips upturned ever so slightly. He liked the song, and you could capitalize off it. This specific bar had a liking for old music, and luckily for you, your father refused to listen to any song that came out after ‘95. It was your forte, and seemingly his too. You wished you could thank the (mostly) cover band for picking such a great song to play.

“Fairport Convention.” You sighed, smiling as you stirred your ice around your drink. As you said it, Josh seemed to perk up. His head turned towards you, his eyes shining with admiration for your music knowledge. Once you knew his attention was yours, you spoke again. “I love this song.”

“You… uh, yeah. Me too.” He grinned. If he thought you were attractive before that second, it seemed to grow even stronger. His whole body shifted as he turned in your direction, and his tongue darted out and over his bottom lip. “This is definitely one of my favorite bands of all time.”

“That’s a bold statement.” You said, looking over at him as you sipped your drink.

“And I mean it.” He assured you. “I didn’t know I was in the company of someone with such fantastic taste.” Like venom, your next words came smoothly and deadly.

“There’s lots you don’t know, but I’m sure you could find out if you’re ever interested.” Your voice dropped as you spoke, as if the words shared between you were sacred. In a sense, they were; there was no chance in hell you would ever say it loud enough for Jake to hear. Your eyes flickered to meet his, holding his gaze with a soft intensity that made him squirm in his seat. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, trying to piece together your true intentions. His demeanor shifted in an instant, and in a way you very much needed to see more of.

“Is that so?” He pried further, treading lightly and keeping his voice as hushed as your own. As he said it, you felt Jake’s hand snake to your thigh underneath the table, so stealthily that you would not have even noticed the movement if not for his burning touch lingering just below the hem of your dress. “I’m not sure if I understand what you mean, mama.” The pet name rolled off his tongue, coated in a slight husk that raised goosebumps across your skin. You wondered if you should feel dirty for flirting with Josh while Jake’s hand lingered so tentatively on your leg, but you seemed to miss the boat when it came to remorse in its entirety.

“I think you understand exactly what I mean, honey.” You chuckled, giving a soft smile. His eyes darkened at your words, as if the statement had opened up a whole new world for him. You had given him permission to think such things about you, and he was grateful for it, almost like he’d been fighting the urge to see you as such since he first laid eyes on you.

“Mhm,” he hummed to himself, his head cocking to the side slightly as he tried to figure you out. “How could I say no to an offer like that?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t.” You admitted, holding his gaze to cement your position on the matter. With that, Jake was calling your name and bringing you into conversation with the rest of them. You looked over Josh for a moment longer, then turned to look at his brother. You would have been fearful of Jake seeing Josh’s dumbfounded face if not for the fact he was fully immersed in you. As soon as he caught sight of your face again, he seemed just as enthralled in you as he was when you were talking by the bar.

Time passed and drinks were had, laughs were plentiful and the flirting was unbearable, although kept expertly under wraps. Bouncing between the two seemed like a daunting task you feared you would not be able to do, yet the longer you did it, the easier it became. As the time passed, you even seemed to enjoy it. Danny and Sam seemed incredibly drunk, and due to their innate inability to be observant, your work had become quite simple. Jake had gone to the bar and grabbed everyone another round of drinks, and you had noticed that he switched to drinking beer as the night dwindled on. Your best guess was that he did not want to be too drunk to entertain you, and you had to appreciate his effort.

“Do you have any plans after this, mama?” Josh asked, leaning in almost too close for comfort. Although, it would be very comfortable if not for the crowd onlooking the two of you.

“Looking to learn more already?” You teased, casting a look at him through the corner of your eye.

“Is it such a crime?” He challenged, wishing you would turn to face him once more.

“Not a crime, but not a good night for me. I have to work in the morning.” The lie slipped off your tongue as smooth as silk, no hesitation present in your answer. If only he knew the truth, he may not be so willing to give in to you. “Raincheck?” You asked, turning your head towards him a little more.

“You name the time and place, and I’ll be there.” He promised. Your forearms were resting against each other on the table, incriminating the two of you even further. Josh seemed to be leaning in to you, and if you were a little more drunk, you would have reciprocated the action. Before he could get too close, though, you felt Jake’s fingers tighten against your thigh, but it was not in the soft teasing manner as it was before. It pulled you out of the bubble that surrounded you and Josh, causing a flood of fear to run through you as you looked over at him.

The look in his eye was sinister, yet not threatening. You weren’t sure how he pulled it off, but you had no better way to describe it. His grip on you remained the same, and for a moment, he did not speak. His jaw was hard set, the muscles in his cheeks tense as he looked over your face. “I’m going to grab another drink. Care to join?” He asked, his voice soft and nothing like the flame in his eye. Although his tone was misleading, and you knew that his question was not as it appeared; he had no intent on going back to the bar without you.

“Sure,” you nodded, giving him a smile. You wanted to maintain your composure as much as you could, because if you faltered even slightly, he would see you exactly as you were. He stood, not making any further moves as you joined him. Discreetly, you gave Josh’s knee a squeeze to reassure him after leaving him hanging before you stood yourself.

Jake began walking without looking back to see if you were following; he did not need to, for he felt the cloud of euphoria surrounding him that was only sourced from your company. When he reached the bar, he leaned against a vacant area with room enough for two. He faced inwards, looking at all of the whiskey bottles on the wall and wondering if he would need something stronger to cope with your venomous personality. You took the spot beside him, wondering if he would speak, or if you would have to come up with something on your own. It was so much easier when he did the talking for you.

His lip was curled slightly, as if he had a sour taste on his tongue. You noticed his shoulders heaving with every breath, but he did not appear outwardly furious. Maybe he was holding it all under the surface and waiting for the right moment to explode. For a second, you believed that you had ruined your chances with the beautiful man before you. You wondered what he was thinking, or how much he heard or saw of you and Josh. His silence was painstaking, and you could not deny the nervous flutter in your stomach or the clammy palms.

Then, he turned to look at you, his eyes catching yours in a tell-all reunion. If he was angry, it had dissipated in a second and it was now replaced with the same carnal desire that plagued him before you ever joined his brothers at the booth. You had your pretty face to thank, and the budding feelings that were already blossoming in his heart. He felt for you more than a one night stand should, and even if he knew you were evil to the core, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling such a way. The cycle continued, and he had already branded himself a fool for you.

“What game are you trying to play, sweetheart?” He asked, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Depends… what’s your favorite?” You smirked up at him, giving a bat of your eyelashes to cement the flirtation in your tone. He gave a low chuckle, neglecting a response, instead raising his beer bottle to his lips and tilting his head back. As he drank down the liquid, your eyes drifted towards the exposed columns of his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing with each long gulp.

You couldn’t help but think how foolish he was to expose his very lifeline to you, and although you were not a being of mythical nature and blood was not exactly your thing, you were certain that your lips, or better, your tongue settled gently atop the skin of his jugular would send him straight to his knees. You were tempted to test it out, just to see if your assumptions were correct. You could lean forward and try, but you knew it was best to wait; he would run himself in circles for a few moments before he inevitably landed himself in that exact position.

As he pulled the bottle away from his mouth, the glisten of alcohol making the plush skin of his lips glisten under the dim bar light, his eyes drifted back down towards your face before his head dropped into its earlier position. He was silent for a moment, as if he was trying to understand you better, and then he spoke softly, leaning down so you could hear him over the boom of the stereo system.

“I don’t like games at all, angel.” The sultry tone sent a shiver down your spine, but you did not let it phase you any further than that. Before he could pull away, you turned your head inwards, just enough so that your nose would brush against his. At the sudden touch, he did not shy away like you expected. If anything, he seemed to lean further into you without any hesitation. At that moment, you understood that you were not playing with an amateur; any lesser man would shy away from your strong nature. If you had to admit, him being open to the advance made your desire to play him grow even stronger. “I saw you talking to Josh. Do you think you’re being sly? Playing hard to get?” He asked, the sheer power behind his soft tone making your knees weak and your stomach twist in a knot. “Or are you trying to make me jealous?” If only he knew how extensive your evil truly was, he would never have spoken at all and instead turn away to run. His accusations were nowhere near the atrocities you were intending to commit. “What, you have nothing to say, now? Finally have you cornered?”

“Just don’t think you’d like what I have to say, is all.” You said, placing your empty cup down on the bar top without breaking the position. His eyes were boring into your own, as if he was trying to make you submit to him. In truth, you found his confidence comedic. Of course, you’d give him what he wanted, but he’d be doing you more of a favor than you were doing him. It wouldn’t take him very long to put down the dominant facade and comprehend that he was not the one with the power. “Some things are better left unsaid, Jacob.”

A flame was dancing dangerously behind his pupil, letting you know that there was much more to his character if you looked behind the mask he constantly had on. It intrigued you, making you wonder what would happen if you continued to nurse it with gasoline. Perhaps the explosion would be quite enjoyable, even for days after the disaster. Russian roulette was a game that often seemed tempting, and playing it with Jake made it all the more enticing.

The lights were low, making it incredibly difficult to place the emotion in his eye. Even then, it didn’t matter; all men were the same, and he was already caught on your hook. He was irritated, annoyed at your evasion and what seemed to be a tiresome game of cat and mouse, but it was not enough for him to lack interest in you. The scent of whiskey on your breath, casted warmly over his lips was drawing him in further, making him wonder if he could still taste it on your tongue if he acted fast enough. He thought he had the upper hand, that he was the one who was charming you, but he could not seem to see that he was playing the exact way you wanted him to. He was blissfully unaware, and you were ready for the kill. “If it means that much to you, Jacob, I’m sure the bathroom is free. Maybe a quick stop might convince you of where my loyalty lies.” The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a small, wicked smile. “Josh was never offered an invitation like that, was he?”

You reached out, running a delicate hand over his bicep that was covered with the thin material of his button-up. He flexed in response of the feeling, the touch running through him and clouding his judgement. You leaned forward, captivating him further. It was your time to strike, and you were moving with full force. He was too weak to resist, even if he knew he should. You did not need to deny the flirting accusations, because he had seen it with his own eyes. Doing so would drive him further way, but you could capitalize off the fact that he did not know the true motives of your conversation with Josh. For now, you could let him believe it was to make him jealous, because it worked in your favour.

In that moment, he realized the full extent of your wicked nature. He wanted to walk away, to leave you to wallow in the loss after he caught you flirting with his brother, but something about the burn of your touch and the calming effect of your gaze made the desire flee him. He knew you had no intentions of anything further than sex, and now that your mask had melted away, he could even understand that you didn’t even have care for him as a person. Getting off was the only thing that mattered, and that much was clear, but not even that seemed to turn him away. With every touch and lingering stare, every ounce of kindness (even if it was rare) and each one of your sweet smiles gave him a breath of hope that maybe he had misjudged the situation and you were actually telling the truth.

The vicious cycle had already begun, and he was a fool for thinking he could escape. He couldn’t resist your temptation, and he could not refute his desire to have you, too. As long as you continued to feed him, he would come crawling back, even if it would kill him. He could not assume the worst of you, especially because he’d only known you for a short time, so he relaxed under your touch and gave in to the feeling. He wanted to change your mind, to be the one to keep you for longer than a day, and he was willing to do whatever he could to persuade you to give him the chance.

Little did you know, by offering him the invitation, you were walking straight into your own demise. Although he did not know it yet, he would not be the one to steal your heart, but he would be the one to put an end to your venomous ways.

“How kind of you.” He shot back, but the refrain from earlier seemed to disappear. “Your generosity is staggering, sweetheart.”

“Is that you saying no?” You took it upon yourself to move closer to him, nearly pressing yourself into his body in hopes that it would sway his thoughts. He turned his head down towards you, casting a far away glance from over his nose, as if he was already thinking of all the things the two of you could get up to behind a locked door.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” His voice was quiet, but his tone was strong. His hand reached for your hip, the pull of your aura too strong. He couldn’t help himself.

“Why don’t you go wait in the bathroom, and I’ll go and collect my things. I’ll tell them I’m headed home so they won’t even suspect a thing.” You said, giving a soft smile as his eyes watched your face. “Then, I can show you just how generous I really am.”

“How do I know you’re not playing another one of your little games?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes, heaving a little sigh as you did so. You could not lie and say that abandoning him just to mess with him had not crossed your mind, but you needed him far too much to walk away without anything. So, instead of making a fuss, you reached up and let your fingers settle over the clasp back of your diamond earring. You slipped it off and extended your hand towards him. He looked to the shiny rock, then back at your face, unsure of what you were doing.

“Take it, so you know I’ll come back.” You motioned your hand further towards him, insisting on the fact. Slowly, he reached out and grabbed it from you. He slipped it in his pocket, nodding in appreciation for your lack of fight.

“Don’t be too long, sweetheart. I don’t like being kept waiting.” He spoke, looking down at you once more before taking a step back. His cockiness was infuriating, yet looked good on him. Instead of arguing, you winked at him before he turned to walk away. Once he was swallowed by the crowd, you turned to the bar and grabbed a napkin from the stack sitting nearby. Quickly, you called the bartender over to ask him if you could borrow a pen. Luckily, he was quick to retrieve you one, and you scribbled a message down on the paper.

You walked back towards the booth you were sitting in moments before, making sure Jake was nowhere in sight. When you reached the group again, Sam and Danny were chattering amongst themselves while Josh seemed to be awaiting your arrival. You shot him a smile, sliding in beside him for just a second to tie up any loose ends and to let Josh know that the invitation was still very much alive. “Hey,” you breathed, talking only loud enough for him to hear.

“Was wondering where you were.” He replied, his stare intense as he silently begged you to move closer.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You said, giving a sympathetic smile. “Jake wasn’t feeling well so he went to the bathroom. Probably because he was mixing beer and whiskey.” You paused, rolling your eyes for dramatic effect. “He wanted me to tell you guys not to wait up for him. I wish I could stay longer, but I have to work in the morning.” You put all of your heart into the fake tale to make it believable, and Josh was just drunk enough to take your word for it.

“You’re leaving already?” There was a hint of disappointment in his eye, but when you reached out under the table and landed a gentle hand on his thigh, he seemed to perk up.

“I wish I could stay,” you said, finding his hand so you could slip the napkin into his palm. He grabbed it from you, keeping it as discreet as he could. “Thank you for being so sweet and letting me drink with you guys, though.”

“Anytime, mama.” He said, noticing your fingers still lingering on him. There was a twitch in his jaw as his teeth clenched together. If he could have it his way, he’d have you right then and there.

“I’ll see you again sometime?” You asked, a fake look of hope in your eye.

“Definitely.” He nodded. “You have a way home? Do you want me to walk with you?” He offered, partially concerned with your safety, but more concerned with getting you alone.

“I live just around the corner, so no need for that.” You assured him, imploring him to remember the note clutched tightly in his hand. “I’ll see you later, Josh.” You gave him a lingering stare as you grabbed your purse and backed out of the booth. He nodded in response, watching your hips as you walked off into the crowd. When you were out of eyesight, he looked down at the napkin, scrawled with your number and a message for him.

Call me so we can arrange that raincheck. Keep it between us, though—a secret is all the more fun ;)

You walked towards the bathroom with a fervor, pushing through the crowd with little regard for anyone or anything. It had been an extremely long night of flirting with little reward thus far. Knowing that Jake was waiting for you, feeling the same way that you were, was enough to make you want to tear the building down in order to get to him. When you rounded the corner to the one single bathroom that the building had (which in your opinion was a poor judgment on the owners part), you noticed nobody pooling around the door to wait their turn. It came as a surprise, especially considering how crowded the establishment was, but you certainly could not find a complaint about it.

Before you went inside, you reached into your purse. First, you popped a mint in your mouth, settling it under your tongue as you reapplied your deodorant and lipgloss. You ran your hand through your hair and took a deep breath, settling your thoughts before you joined Jake. The whole night has been a whirlwind, and you were shocked that you made it this far. You reached out, your fingers clasping around the handle and turning it, only to find that it was locked. You let out a huff of irritation, raising your fist to knock on the solid wood door. You hit against it with little force, sending a pattern of thuds echoing into the other side. You thought that if you did it like so, he would recognize that it was you.

You waited for a moment, and received nothing in return. Frustrated, you knocked again, a little louder this time. When he did not answer, you tapped your foot against the ground while anxiety invaded your mind. You worried that maybe you had crossed a line, pushed him a little too far and he’d changed his mind. Worse than that, you feared he decided to give you a taste of your own medicine and lead you on only to leave you with nothing. Just as you were ready to knock again, the knob twisted and the door slowly opened, revealing Jake’s smirking face illuminated by the fluttering fluorescent bulb.

“Asshole,” you muttered, unpleasant about his actions.

“Impatient, much?” He raised an eyebrow, opening the door to let you in. You pushed past him, watching him close the door and lock it before turning to face you.

“Not impatient,” you shook your head. “Just wondering why you were keeping me waiting.”

“That is impatience, sweetheart.” He chuckled, stepping towards you. “Just like you not being able to wait until we got home.”

“So what?” You shrugged, a smile tugging at your lips. You were becoming less annoyed the closer he got, and now that he was within arms reach, you had almost forgotten about the minor inconvenience entirely. “Maybe you should take it as a compliment.” You offered, reaching out and settling your hand on his bicep. You pulled him further towards you and his hand shot to your hip as if it were a natural reaction.

“Who says I don’t?” He challenged, his lips just inches away from your own. He was teasing you without even doing a thing, imploring you to make the decision you both had been waiting so long for. “You’ve got a habit of jumping to conclusions.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, the smile still eating away at your lips. “You’ve got an awful way of showing it.” You had been with plenty of people, many in this exact situation, yet it had never come so easily as it did with him. There was something compelling about Jake, and it made you want to banter with him and challenge his every move. It wasn’t malice, but it was fun, and you knew you would have a very hard time letting go of it when the night was through. Something told you that Jake was not the type of person you should let go of.

Perhaps that feeling was meant to be felt in a romantic context, yet you were still greedy enough to keep him on your hook for your own selfish desires.

“Maybe I’ll have to show it in some other way, then.” He theorized, bringing his hand to rest on your jaw. You did not have to respond in order for him to feel your enthusiasm. He leaned down, wasting no more time as he pressed his lips to yours. The seclusion of the bathroom had been a blessing in disguise; as his lips moved against your own, you could feel his guard being let down. Whether that was because of privacy, or because you finally had the opportunity to leech the life from him, you did not know.

What you did know was that because the two of you were alone, everything felt all the more fantastic. His hand felt like it was burning to the touch, melting into your skin and bringing the two of you together as one. The taste of alcohol on his tongue was even more delicious, because this time you knew it was laced with sin. His chest pressed against yours was intoxicating because you could feel the beating of his heart in time with yours. The smell of his cologne was not clouded by perfumes and aftershaves of people walking by, and his ragged breathing was not covered by the boom of music. In here, you had access to him in whatever way you pleased without interference from any external force. In here, you had the opportunity to take him for your own.

His lips trailed from your own, brushing over the firey skin of your cheeks and eventually, down to your neck. The graze of his teeth against your pulse-point was was driving you to insanity, and the feeling of his tongue running over your sweet spots was the nail in the coffin. For a brief moment, you feared that with him, your power was obsolete. Every touch was electric, and every second seemed antagonizingly slow. You were at his disposal now, and you wondered if he would be kind to you despite all of the bad karma headed in your direction.

As he continued to work his way down to your collarbone, you knew that that was no way he could be your bad karma, because no punishment should feel so good.

He backed you into the countertop, the backs of your thighs slamming against the cool tile and sending a shiver down your spine. Before you could recover, and without ever moving his lips from you, he planted his hands firmly on your waist and lifted you onto the counter. He was moving so quickly that you barely had time to process the submissive role he’d forced you into. His hand wandered up your body, settling on the thin material of your dress just above your breasts. The feeling of his warm hands on your cold skin made your breath catch in your throat, and when he pulled the material down, you felt a whine escape your lips.

“Needy little thing,” he muttered, his voice raspy with lust as his eyes grazed over your now bare chest. He’d become a whole new person in an instant, and shyness or reserve completely fleeing him. You wanted to know this side of him, more than you ever wanted to know the other side of him. There was something bordering animalistic in his approach, and his eyes darkened with the intensity of his need for you. “You want me, sweetheart?” He asked, lightly running his thumb over your hardened nipple.

For once, completely submitting to a man seemed like the right thing to do. You felt in your heart that if you were good to him, he would be fantastic to you.

“So bad, Jake.” You breathed, looking over his face as you spoke. You noticed a slight scowl on his lips that had not been there earlier, and a shed of malice in his eyes. Perhaps Jake was the type to become the worst version of himself when his clothes were off, and you were not shy in admitting that it only turned you on further. You wondered if maybe he was not looking for you to call him by his name; so far, he’d exuded his adoration for dominance, so perhaps he was searching for a title that fit the character. You thought that if you’d made it this far without fucking up, the least you could do was try your luck. “I need you, sir.”

His pupils engulfed his irises as he listened to your words and the corners of his lips upturned into a smirk. He was painfully hard, the newest term of endearment sending him into a craze as he bunched the bottom of your dress in his fists. You raised your ass off the counter, allowing him to push the fabric to your navel. As you sat back down, his hands caught your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. The two of you were perfectly in tune, now. He was fucked up for needing you to refer to him in such a way to get off, and you were just as fucked up for knowing exactly what to say without him telling you.

He hooked his fingers through the side of your panties, pulling them down with your help. “You need me?” He asked, his eyes settling on your cunt, finally getting a taste of what he’d been waiting for all along. “You flirt so much that you just can’t wait another second to be touched? Is that it?” He pressed further, his eyes only flickering to your face once to catch a glimpse of your expression.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, aching at the thought of him being the one to touch you. Your desperation had grown so quick and so strong that it was nearly painful, and you had to fight the urge to reach between your legs and do the job for him. As much as you enjoyed his antics, you knew you would enjoy sex with him even more.

“So what was it?” He asked, letting his rough fingertips graze the soft skin of your thighs. The touch sent goosebumps prickling over your skin. “Or who was it might be the better question.”

“W-what?” You stuttered, only half listening to his tirade.

“Don’t play dumb, angel.” He scolded, his fiery gaze flicking upwards and holding your stare this time. Before he spoke again, he placed one hand on your knee, roughly pushing it to the side to give him access to you. “Who turned you into such a mess? Was it me, or was it my brother?” Jake knew as soon as the words left his lips, it hit a nerve within you. You had expected him to drop the subject and forget about it as soon as he got you naked, that he would feel superior for being the one to have you in such a way. Clearly, you had misjudged him, and Jake was the type to hold a grudge. That, or he didn’t really care all that much and just loved to torture you.

“You, sir.” You promised, making sure to add a breathiness to your tone that would send him spiraling. It worked, but not to the extent you had hoped. His hand drifted to the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your core yet far enough away to make it excruciatingly hard for you to sit through.

‘Maybe he’s a sadist,’ you thought. Then, a worse idea washed over you; if he was a sadist, you would gladly be the masochist. At that moment, the tables turned. The boy before you had made you into a mess, spinning your entire world on its axis and changing your trajectory. For once, you had no concern for your own pleasure, and felt that you could only accept such kindness if it were to please him.

In short, he’d turned you soft.

Jake knew that this conversation was making you squirm, but he did not know the reason why. You did not feel guilt for flirting with Josh; you were overcome with emotion at the idea of living to be a source of pleasure for Jake. You were so keen on the idea of using others for your own personal gain, yet as he stared at you from between your legs, waiting for his next moment to strike, you knew that you would give up the whole world just to be of use to him, in any way he deemed necessary.

Sexually, of course.

Romance was never an option laid out on the table, nor would it ever be.

“You sure about that, sweetheart?” He asked, his upper lip curling as he brought his hand to your cunt. You let out a gasp, your fingers tightening around the edge of the countertop as his thumb brushed over your clit. It was featherlight, a minimal touch that should not have produced such a strong effect on you, yet everything seemed grand when Jake was the one doing it.

For a split second, you felt regret at the idea of trying to get Josh into your bed, too. You need not be so greedy when someone so fantastic was willing to fulfill all of your needs. Then, the moment passed and your wicked nature returned to you. You were excited at the prospect of having Josh in the same way, because you had little doubt that he would treat you just as good.

“Did you want him in here with you, playing with your pretty little pussy?” The vulgarity wrapped delicately around his tongue, like it was the sweetest word he’d ever spoken. You felt yourself clench around nothing, your heart beating hard enough to burst through your ribcage. “You want him to touch you, instead?”

“No, sir.” You whined, feeling the muscles in your thighs twitch as he added pressure to his thumb. You were only partially lying, because you knew that if he stopped, you would break down, crumbling to the ground and turning to dust from the loss of his precious company. You did not want Josh to touch you instead, you just wanted him to do it too. “I just want you, baby.” You pleaded, hoping he could read between the lines and see that you wanted more.

Jake knew you were lying; he knew that you were not a lustful woman who caught the attention of men at the bar; you were a foul, wicked entity that was rotten to the core. He could see it in your eyes, the lack of remorse and shame. There was no room for any other emotion in you other than desire, but he felt lucky to be on the receiving end of such things. If he was smart, he would have turned and walked out the door. He should have left you there to wallow in your own stupidity and arrogance, and maybe then you would have learned not to make such a mistake. Every time he felt like he had the willpower to do so, you caught his eye, or another whiny moan pushed past your pink, glossed lips, and he knew he would stay between your legs until he heaved his last dying breath. Leaving you was not an option, yet staying would kill him.

Either way, he knew that death was most feasible, and he would rather die hearing his name stuck in your throat than alone and clinging to the memory.

“Then let me hear how fucking bad you want it.” He ordered, his words resembling a growl as he leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from his lips to his fingers. Not long after, he pushed his middle and index finger inside of you. Your back arched at the feeling, your hips lifting off the counter to meet the curl of his fingers inside of you. You let out a string of curses, a groan tearing through your chest as a wave of pleasure washed over you. You had no idea what he was depriving you of until you felt it, and now you feared you could not live without it.

“Oh, fuck.” You gasped, noticing the steady pace of his fingers be joined by his thumb on your clit.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear it.” He encouraged, nearly driven to madness at the knowledge he was the one making you sing such precious sounds. You leaned back, your head resting on the scratched mirror as you portrayed yourself in an even more pornographic manner. Your tits were spilling from the top of your dress and your knuckles were white from gripping the countertop so tightly. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your lips parted as he worked his way up to familiarity with your body. Although he wasn’t certain he would see you again after the night was through, he wanted to ensure that if he did, he knew you well enough to pick up where you left off tonight. Plus, he hoped that if he did a good enough job, you would invite him back for more.

His need to be needed by you was debilitating, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt like something else entirely when he was around you, like pleasing you was the only thing in the world that mattered.

You would think that by now he would know better, especially after seeing the evil you were capable of when it came to his brother, but it did not matter to him. He wanted to be with you so badly that he chose to blind himself on your behalf. He’d tricked himself to believe you were genuine, and he had enough faith in his own ability that he believed he could make you forget about your attraction to Josh. When the night was through, he was confident that his brother would not even be a passing thought in your mind.

His own naïveté would inevitably be the end of him, but he was too stubborn to admit the truth.

He was a force to be reckoned with, but you were an otherworldly force that not only him, but the world itself had never encountered, and likely never would again.

“Feels so fucking good, sir.” You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as another forceful pull of pleasure twisted your stomach. His eyes were settled on your cunt, watching his fingers drive you to the brink of insanity. The sight was doing just the same to him—with every pump of his fingers, his cock throbbed in anticipation for what he would experience in due time.

“See, sweetheart? You do know how to do something worthwhile with your mouth after all.” He muttered, talking down to you all while blessing you with the most generous gift. He was still seething that Josh had a taste of the sweetness you had to offer, even if he was the lucky one to have you so intimately. Instead of depriving you both of the pleasure, he figured he could get the best of both worlds. He might have felt remorse if not for you enjoying his harsh words so much.

Another moan escaped you. It was louder than you anticipated, engulfing the silence that once existed in the air. The sound was so vulgar that it clung to the poorly decorated walls, seeping into the foundation and making home. You would never be able to walk into the place again without being reminded of the memory indefinitely. Jake's company far outweighed the value of any other, and his legacy would live on in the building forever. Even as sharp insults slid off his tongue and in your direction, you felt like it was a blessing to be the one to receive it.

Your muscles tensed as his fingers curled, brushing against the sweet spot he’d so easily found. He seemed to know you so well despite barely knowing you at all, and it was comforting just as much as it was confusing. You wanted to give in to him, to let your iron guard down for a moment to let him and see you as you truly were rather than what you tried to be, but you couldn’t. You could not trust a man that seemed so eager to please you, and one who did it so well. For a moment, you believed that he was the master of deception, and you had taken him for a fool when in reality, it was only you who could be branded as such. You wondered if you had been so sure of yourself that you believed he was falling for your lies, when in fact, you were playing into his game.

Whoevers game it was did not matter in the end, as no matter which way it went, the two of you were being played by each other in entirely different ways. He was trying to con the player into taking a chance on him, and you were trying to con the lover into submission so you could fuck his brother. It was a losing battle for the both of you, but try was the only thing you knew how to do.

“Are you going to cum for me, Angel?” He asked, his voice barely sounding over your desperation.

“Y-yes sir,” you gasped, the intensity of the pleasure making you want to force your legs shut just to get a moment of rest. You were certain that you were being louder than the music playing outside the door, but neither of you cared.

“You going to let everyone know how good I’m making you feel?” He asked, his eyes flickering towards the door for a moment, then back to you.

“God, yes.” You muttered, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down your forehead. The bathroom was unbearably warm as is, and with the added warmth of what he was doing to you, it was nearly suffocating. Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your heartbeat was deafening as it rang through your eardrums and the pit of your stomach felt like it was encased in flames. You were so close, and you needed it so bad. You were so strung out on pleasure that you could not formulate any further words. Instead, you did exactly as he said, muttering curses mixed with pornographic sounds that would ensure anyone lingering by the door would quickly make an exit.

Then, your vision began to blur as the orgasm threatened you further. The euphoria was coursing through your veins, throbbing under your skin and begging to take your life. With every movement he was pushing you closer to the edge, and he was drinking in every second of the moment. He watched as you expression twisted into pleasure, how your chest would rise and fall with every breath, how the muscles of your legs twitched every time he brought his thumb back over your clit. You were enchanting and he found it impossible not to watch.

You could feel yourself descending into something stronger than anything you’d ever felt. The whole world felt like it was spinning and your body felt light. It was within your grasp, and you were delirious enough to think that if you reached out, you could wrap your fingers around the billowing clouds of euphoria and draw them closer, to drown yourself in it. You moved your hips down on his hand, needing that little bit extra to get you there, and he had no issue giving it to you. It was overwhelming in the best possible way, and you felt the need to stave off the urge just to make it last a little bit longer. Not long after that, you realized how ridiculous the idea was and began to give in to the temptation. It felt like it was consuming you, your skin white hot with desire and no sign of letting up.

And then it was gone.

Your eyes shot open, a fire dancing in your pupils as you looked down at him. He had drawn his hand away completely, a small smirk toying across his lips as he turned his gaze towards you. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked, clearly upset with no intent to hide it. The pleasure was still making your skin tingle, but it was dissipating faster with every second that passed until eventually, it turned into an empty sense of longing settled deep in the pit of your stomach. In any other circumstance, he would have chastised you for speaking so harshly, but he was enjoying your desperation and frustration too much to ask you to stop.

“I’m not that kind, sweetheart.” He reminded you, knowing that denying you an orgasm was a complex decision with many reasons as to why. He did not think you were deserving of one so soon, even if he craved to see you turn to a mess before him. More than that, he did not what you to cum from something as frivolous as his hands. “You really think you deserve it?”

No, you did not think you deserved it, but god did you want it. In your mind, want was equal to, if not more important than anything else.

“Jake, please.” You breathed, your cheeks stained red from embarrassment more than pleasure, now. Not often did you feel that you should beg for a man, yet for some reason, he made you feel as though you would die without him. There was some otherworldly power that he bestowed upon you after a single touch, and you were hooked on him for life. He was more powerful than any substance and more desirable than any other man. “I’ve been so good for you, baby. Please let me cum.” While you spoke, his mind seemed completely elsewhere.

As you begged, he paid no mind to your neediness and instead raised his index finger to his mouth, slowly slipping the digit between his lips and settling it on his tongue. He inhaled deeply as the taste of your arousal overwhelmed him, letting out a low groan that rattled his chest. Although it was muffled by his finger in his mouth, you heard it loud and clear. If it were possible, the simple action made you even more desperate for him, and you thought you might die if he made you wait any longer. When he withdrew his finger, a slight popping noise echoed through the air around the two you. When he looked up at you, his pupils had completely consumed his irises, blackened with lust for you.

“Taste so sweet, angel.” He muttered, his gaze flickering back to your cunt. “You have been good for me, haven’t you?” He smiled, but it was not the beautiful one you’d grown so accustomed to. This time, it was evil, and it shook you to the core.

“So good, sir.” You agreed, nodding your head slightly. You looked down at him with innocent eyes and a little smile, hoping that he would see reason. “Please let me cum, sir. I’ve been so good.” You said it again, with more conviction in your eyes in hopes of winning the battle. He let his fingers trail up your thigh, the light touch tickling your skin and sending another rush of arousal straight to your cunt.

“You sound so fucking pretty when beg for me.” He spoke lowly, but with plenty of power within his words. With that, his hands settled on your hips and he pulled you even closer to the edge of the counter. He drink to his knees before you, eyes focused intently on your cunt. He leaned forward, his mouth connecting with you without any further conversation, reveling the real reason why he’d gotten on his knees.

He flattened his tongue against you, slowly running it through your folds, getting another taste of the arousal that he was responsible for. He hummed against you, showing his appreciation for you and the opportunity to have you like such. You let out a shaky sigh, still leaning your head against the mirror to support yourself as he worked at you. He took it slow at first, wanting to savour every moment of the experience as he feared he may never get the chance again. You loosened your iron grip on the countertop, reaching down and tangling your fingers in the long locks of brown hair. It felt good around your fingers, just as soft and silky as you imagined it would be.

When he seemed satisfied with the teasing he was doing, he let his tongue settle over your clit, moving it slowly across the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your breath hitched in your throat as a rush of pleasure flooded through you, reminding you of all he was capable of doing, even with the most miniscule of actions. He used one hand to guide your leg over his shoulder, running his fingers back up until he could grip your hip again. He repeated the action with the other leg, and once he felt you were secure, he pulled you down even further on him. When you grew comfortable with the changes, he brought his fingers back to you and wasted no time in resuming his earlier pace.

“Fuck, Jake.” You hissed, the feeling consuming your entire body once again. He’d pushed you so close to the edge that it wasn’t hard to get you back, and after only a few seconds of steady movement, you could feel the pressure begin to rise again. In response, he curled his fingers upwards again as he pumped them into you, unable to forget the reaction that it prompted from you. You felt yourself clench around him, drawing his hand in further and deeper, intending to keep him there forever.

He took in a sharp breath, loving the way your body responded to his efforts. He thought you were the most enchanting thing he’d ever laid eyes on, and he would happily die between your legs with his name knotted around your tongue. You were so caught up in bliss that you began to believe this was the best it would ever get; no man before Jake had ever made you feel so good, even if they tried ten times harder. Jake was what you had been looking for every night since moving to the city, and if you had been smart, you would have recognized that and took the leap of faith. You were too far gone, spiraling down your self-made rabbit hole, neglecting the idea that he could be more than just good sex in a dingy bar bathroom.

The truth was that you knew all of those things, and worse than that, you could feel it when you were with him, but you were too far gone to ever be able to introduce love to your cold heart. You wanted to love, to be loved, but you no longer had the capacity for such things. The fleeting feeling of an orgasm was powerful, and even if it did not leave you fulfilled for very long, it was preferable to the pain of heartbreak. He made you feel more than you ever had before, but that was what made you want to run. A man met at the bar with sly words and a pretty smile was never good news, and when you took note of the rest of his charming attributes, you knew he was even worse than bad. Jake had the ability to make you see him for more than sex, but he also had the ability to hurt you worse than anyone else.

Drawn by the first touch and stuck there after the second, he was the most devilish of all men; the difference between you and the razor sharp thorns that grew from your skin was that he did not have intent to use his for harm, but you were always looking for a reason to injure. You recognized his deadly beauty because you held the same one in your heart, and you had taken him as someone just like you, neglecting to consider that he was far from it. You did not have enough time or care to make an attempt to see differently, so you continued on with your same old treachery with intent to destroy anything good before it could ever happen.

With expert precision, he kept his fingers in time with his tongue. He could feel how close you were without you having to say a word. The rapid breathing and racing heartbeat, the blushed cheeks and the forehead gleaming with sweat, the eyes squeezed shut and your thighs tightening around his head. It was so powerful that he almost felt the same desperation in his heart, fearing that if he did not get you there you would succumb to the sickness of need. He wanted to talk you through it, to use words of praise instead of the cruel sentiments he had been giving you before. He wanted to be the only thing on your mind, to invade every thought and fibre of your being so you did not even have the opportunity to think of anything else. His work was driven by greed, and he was not ashamed to admit that he would do whatever he could to keep you coming back for more.

The thought of you flirting with his brother had long left his mind, replaced with filthy thoughts of all he could do to you. He knew that Josh did not have the same luxury, and he would be walking home alone without you, while he would spend the entire night entangling you within his soul. He was the only one of the two who was blessed with the privilege of having you, and he would wear the badge with honour until his very last minute on earth.

Once again, his overconfident attitude and foolish naïveté would seal his grave forevermore.

A particularly sharp moan forced him to break out of his thoughts, returning his focus back to you as he continued to push you closer to the edge. “Oh god, Jake.” You cried, feeling the threat of an orgasm creeping up on you once more. It was much stronger and more intense than the last, and your whole body felt ablaze with pleasure. Your heart felt like it would explode out of your chest, and your lungs would deflate. Your head was buzzing with anticipation, and your entire body was tense.

You wondered if it was possible to survive the fall after allowing him to carry you to such heights.

You did not have enough time to worry about death as the knot in your belly snapped under the pressure, unravelling as the feeling took over your entire body. Your thighs squeezed against his skull, locking him there indefinitely as your fingers grasped at the strands of his hair. If not for the counter beneath you and his hand holding you in place, you thought you might descend to hell from the sinful indulgence. You had never felt anything quite like it, as if your soul was being consumed by the irate pleasure that knew not when to stop. Your back arched off the counter, the feeling of his tongue still moving sent you into another wave of euphoria. His fingers inside of you were moving with a fervour, lingering around the sweet spot he’s taken to. It was so much that it was almost nothing at all; so powerful that it was the only thing you knew.

When you came down, you were delirious from the depths of the new world he’d introduced you to. You wondered if you would ever find something that could make you feel that way again, or if you would spend an entire lifetime chasing after a high that only existed when you were with him. Debate on the topic was non-essential, because when he rose from his knees and unbuckled his belt, it did not matter. In fact, nothing in the world mattered except for him.

Recovery was not a conscious choice, because he gave you no other option. Before you were even of sound mind, he’d freed himself from his boxers and resumed his position between your legs, only standing this time. Your orgasm was still glistening on his chin, and he wore it like a trophy as he casted a downward glance at you. Even in the lowlight, every one of his features still appeared so beautifully, as if all of the gods had a helping hand in the creation of him. “Was that what you wanted, angel?” He asked, his voice husky as he watched you with a whole new type of hunger in his eyes. “That’s what you waited all night for?”

“Y-yes, sir.” You stuttered, still gulping for air. Normally, you would feel strange being in such a state in front of anyone, especially when they were as calm as he was, but it did not bother you now. You were perfectly content being at his disposal, ready to give him anything and everything his heart desired.

“Are you ready for more, or you can’t take it?” He asked, reaching down and running a thumb over your burning cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, a human reaction to a sweet gesture.

“I can take it, sir.” You promised, your eyes flickering away from his stare and down to his cock. Your mouth watered at the sight, fantasizing momentarily about what it would be like to taste him. You wanted him in every way possible, and any shame about the need was long gone the minute he began to touch you. Your focus was torn away from the beautiful imaginative world you’d thrown yourself into when he spit on his hand, stroking himself for a moment before stepping closer to you.

“You think you can keep being good for me?” He asked, running the tip of his cock through the wetness that remained on your cunt.

“Yes, sir.” You said, confident in your ability to take whatever he had to offer. He rested himself against your entrance, pushing his hips forward only slightly so just his tip rested inside of you.

“That’s my girl,” he said, the possessive claim settling deep in your spine and weighing you down like cement. It felt so good to be called his, even if you did not really want to be. His lips turned upwards into a smile, misleading you only slightly. Then, without warning, he brought one hand to the back of your head. The sudden movement did nothing but confuse you, but when he used his hand resting on your hip to pull you towards him, it appeared there was a method to his madness. Your back landed against the countertop with a loud thud, sending a tingle of pain radiating through your spine, but he used his hand to cushion your head as you fell, ensuring it would not slam against the counter as well.

The mix of pain from the fall and the pleasure from him finally being inside of you was conflicting, but addicting nonetheless. Your hips were off the counter completely now, and once he knew you were well and recovered from the shock, he moved his hand from your head. He loved the accessibility of the new position, and he was eager to begin. With both hands holding your hips steady, he felt comfortable enough to begin moving at a steady pace, but steady did not mean gentle, and your toes were already curling from the sensation as you locked your legs around him.

“Fuck!” You yelped, feeling the tip of his cock slam into the same spot his fingers had been tormenting just moments before. You were more sensitive than ever due to the earth shattering orgasm he’d just given you, and the feeling of him inside you was overwhelming.

“I thought you said you could take it, sweetheart?” He taunted, delivering another sharp thrust to the same area. Your legs quivered from the sensation and your throat was raw from the moans flowing steadily through it. You could not respond, the pleasurable pain was so intense that it was impossible to focus on anything else. He wondered for a moment if he was giving you more than you could handle, but the thought quickly vanished when he felt your legs tighten around him and pull him closer. It was enough of an answer for him, but you pulled yourself together enough to fight back.

“Don’t give yourself too much credit, honey.” You smirked. “You call this fucking?” His eyes blazed red in an instant, as if your words turned him into an entirely different entity. Your desire to fight never fled, and his antagonism was just enough to bring it back out.

“You’re gonna be a little brat after I was so nice to you?” He said, drilling his hips into you even more harshly. The feeling seemed to take your breath away, but you tried your best to stand your ground. “Or do you want me to treat you like a whore?” He raised an eyebrow, somehow unphased by the speed in which his hips were moving. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck, yes.” You whined, arching your back against the countertop to meet the thrust of his hips. You knew you could not handle any more, but you needed it all the same. Everything about him was conflicting and it only ever made you want more.

“You like being a little slut for me, don’t you?” He pressed further, letting his hands wander down your legs.

“I love it, sir.” You corrected, feeling his fingers tighten around your ankles as he pulled your legs apart, keeping his touch gentle as he tortured you with his hips. He brought your legs up, straightening them before pushing them upwards and into your chest. He leaned forward, locking you into position and slipped an arm underneath you to support your weight.

“Show me how much you love it, sweetheart.” He ordered, his expression stern as he continued to fuck into you. His movements were causing your knees to push back into your chest, constricting you in the most intoxicating way. “I want you to cum again, on my cock this time.” The vulgarity of his words made your walls tighten around him, making the sensation even more intense. “Can you do that for me?”

“I can,” you whimpered, feeling the pressure rising again. He was pushing you to the limit just so he could watch you as he drove you to insanity. Every movement was amplified by a million with the new position, and that wasn’t even considering how your skin was still tingling with the ghost of your previous orgasm. If his intent was to send you mad, he was doing a damn good job.

“How’s this for fucking?” He growled, looking down at your face. You were so strung out on pleasure that you could barely keep your eyes open, but that was exactly what he was hoping for. “Is this good enough for you, angel?” The pet name was laced with distaste now, showing his anger for your snide comment. You realized as you caught his eye that there was a whole other side of Jake you had yet to discover, and one night would not be enough for you to know him as much as you would like. You had no idea how a man so ethereal could turn so animalistic in an instant, and it only confused you further when you realized you liked that side of him more, because only you could see it.

You were desperate for him to slow down; the climax was barreling towards you at the speed of light, and you could not keep up with it. At the same time, you knew that if he stopped, you would be on your knees in an instant to beg him for more. The very thing you needed to survive would ultimately be the thing that killed you, and your relationship with the man between your legs had been vile from the very beginning. It started on lies and deceit, and carried on after betrayal and mistrust. Nothing good could ever grow from something so rotten, yet the two of you joined together in a pivotal moment of your lives; you would never be the same again, and neither would he. Despite the evil that forced the two of you together, you knew you would not change it for the world.

You were broken from your thoughts when a sharp sting flashed across your cheek. He was expecting an answer, and he was not willing to go without one, so he did what he could to regain your attention. Your eyes shot open, focusing in on the face glaring down at you. His hand had moved back to hold your hip, as if he’d never struck you at all. It took you a moment to clue in to what he had done, because you were too busy trying to sear the sight of his face into your memory for the rest of time. His hair was sticking to his skin, his shirt hanging off his body as the buttons came undone from the constant movements. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you were lucky to have him, even if you did feel regret for using him in such a way.

“Fucking answer me.” He hissed, wondering if he would need to slap you again to pry the words from your lips. Under your foundation, the skin had already began blotching with redness at the forceful contact, but you didn’t seem to care. If anything, you wondered what you could do to get him to do it again. “Is this good enough for you, or do you still need more?”

“It’s good, sir. It’s so fucking good.” You rushed the words out, knowing that if you did not answer, his next punishment might not be so enjoyable.

“That’s what I thought, sweetheart.” His chest was heaving, trying to keep up with his rapid pace. You could feel his movements getting sloppy, but he would not give up until he got one more orgasm out of you.

Your hips began to ache from the position they were in, so you made an attempt to straighten one of your legs out to wrap it around him again. He noticed your struggle, moving back slightly to allow you to do as you needed. Once your legs are locked in place around his waist once more, he held one hand to your hip to keep you steady and snaked his other hand up your body, settling his fingers around your neck. Your stomach fluttered at the new position, excited for him to continue on with his work.

“I need you to cum for me, angel.” He said, carefully settling his fingers over your pulse points, looking over your face for a shred of discomfort. When he found none, it seemed to send him into a whole new frenzy. The knowledge that you would let him do as he pleased with you was driving him to insanity, and he began to regret not bringing you to the bathroom sooner. You were a mess, your dress bunched up around your ribs now, and your tits still free from the top of it. Your mascara was running down your cheeks and your hair was a mess, but he thought you were just as stunning as you were when he first laid eyes on you. “Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” You choked out, feeling his fingers tightening around your neck. Your eyes closed as you willed yourself to give in to the feeling. The need for a release was unbearable, and your stomach was ablaze with the threat of another climax. As his fingers continued to tighten around your jugular, your head began to spin from the lack of blood flow. The pleasure already coursing through your veins seemed to increase tenfold, and there was no more holding back.

The orgasm tore through you with an intensity that made your whole body tremble. The world felt like it was crashing down around you and your lungs ached for a breath of air. You tried to speak his name, but even that failed you. Your legs trembled around him, exhausted from being held in such a position for so long. You wanted to close your eyes, to give in to the feeling and let it take over. You feared you might die from it, and it was such a peaceful feeling that you felt no need to fight it.

As your body relaxed about the counter, he released his hold on your neck. The sudden rush of air seemed to force you back into reality, and your head slowly stopped spinning. You felt Jake’s hips stutter as he uttered a few curses under his breath. You opened your eyes in just enough time to watch him pull out of you, quickly stepping towards you as he stroked himself a few times. You quickly jumped to action, reaching down and knocking his hand out of the way. It took him by surprise, but when your hand wrapped around him and continued with his previous movements, his head fell back in bliss. It was fast enough that it did not make him lose the momentum, and he was grateful for you taking the control. His eyes squeezed shut as he let out a low groan, spilling his release on to your stomach. You let out a ragged breath, looking down at the mess he’d made, his cock still throbbing in your hand as you worked himself through the last few seconds of his own orgasm.

A shiver ran down his spine as you withdrew your hand. He straightened up, heaving a heavy sigh as he looked down at you, soaking up the last few seconds of having you like that. You gave him a small smile in return, another shred of evil making its way into your brain. You slowly brought your hand to your stomach, making sure to maintain the eye contact. Meticulously, you brought your finger to the cum he’d decorated your stomach with, still warm and inviting. You saw his eyes shift down towards your hand, watching as you ran your finger through it, delicate and soft. When you felt as though he had a good enough of an idea for what you were about to do, you brought your finger to your mouth, parting your lips slightly as you pushed your finger to your tongue. You ran it across the pad of your forefinger, letting out a soft moan as you let your eyes flutter closed.

A soft sound emitted from his throat, close to a whine but a little too deep to be classified as such. You had pushed him over the edge, and if he could have gotten away with it, he would have fucked you again right then and there. Instead, he reached for the paper towel dispenser, ripping off a few sheets and cleaning off your stomach as best he could, despite wishing he could witness you do it all over again. He tossed the used paper in the trash after wiping himself off, then pulled his pants back up.

“Get up,” he said, buckling his belt and adjusting himself to conceal the hard-on that was reluctant to go away.

“What?”

“You can’t listen?” He snapped. “Get the fuck up.” He repeated, clearly still feeding off the sexual energy lingering in the air.

“W-why?” You stuttered, almost expecting him to return to normal after you finished. The brash nature of his voice took you by surprise, but you certainly didn’t mind.

“Because I’m going to take you home, and I’m going to fuck you again.” He explained, stepping forward and landing a soft hand on your thigh. “And again… and probably again after that, until you can’t fucking walk and the only thing you know how to say is my name.” A flood of arousal rushed through you, making your heart beat faster once again. Usually, you would laugh at such a claim, but you knew he was not bluffing in the slightest. With that, he leaned down and grabbed your thong from the ground, looking it over as he held it in his palm. You figured he would give it to you, so you extended your arm out to grab it, but he sent you a sly look through the corner of his eye. Instead of passing them to you, he slipped it in his pocket as a trophy for his night’s endeavour and turned to face you. “What are you waiting for, sweetheart?”

‘Nothing’ was the only proper answer, so you scrambled to your feet to straighten yourself out, already excited for the rest of the night. As you cleaned your makeup in the mirror, you glanced at him over your shoulder, wondering if you could handle all of the things he had in store for you. As you watched him watching you, your stomach fluttered with nervousness, and your heart began to swell with adoration. You could handle whatever he wanted to do for you, but you hoped you could handle it well enough to entertain his brother the night after.

No matter how good he was, nobody was ever good enough to subdue a player like you. You would get your way, just like you did every time, but this time was different; it came with a cost too high to justify. Then again, you lived for a thrill, and there was nothing you weren’t willing to gamble for just a taste of what you desired. As he led you out the front door of the bar with a lingering hand on your waist, you revelled in the bliss of his touch all while fantasizing about what it would feel like to be touched by Josh instead. It made you wonder just how far you could take it before it became too much.

As the two of you walked hand in hand, the vicious cycle continued, and soon enough, you knew that ultimately, a punishment would be due. In your purse, your phone had already been ravished by drunk texts from the brother you had yet to entertain, but could not wait to have for yourself. You knew better, but the idea of having the both of them was too good to pass up. Greed was a wicked motivator, and it was plaguing you. You could only hope that punishment in the eyes of the devil, and especially given by the twin brothers, would be enjoyable more than it would be painful.

TAGLIST: @gretavangroupie @wetkleenex-gvf @edgingthedarkness @clairesjointshurt @jordie-gvf @lallisonl @writingcold @dannys-dream @ageofbajabule @GVFstuddedmajesty @mackalah @watchingover-hypegirl @earthgrlsreasy @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog @Lyndz2names @gretavanomens @josh-iamyour-mama @gretavangirlie @cxffeecakez @stardustjake @highway-tuna @peaceloveunitygvf @dancingcarbon @kiszkas-canvas @thewritingbeforesunrise @myownparadise96 @just-ambam @jakeyt @joshym @demonrat444 @pattypanini @itsafullmoon (if I accidentally missed someone, please let me know 🤍)

#jake kiszka #josh kiszka #jake gvf #josh gvf #gvf #greta van fleet #gvf fic #sam kiszka #danny wagner #sam gvf #danny gvf #josh kiszka angst #josh kiszka blurb #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka x reader #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka blurb #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #josh kiszka series #builtbybrokenbells #lex talionis #gvf smut

[pencilofawesomeness]

The JJK x TWST crossover that started living rent free in my head >:'D

Random Doodle Edition

Ahem, so, uhh, turns out the characters of Jujutsu Kaisen fit pretty well as Night Raven College students, temperament-wise, and that was all the excuse I needed. Yes the ages get funky but whatever. Happy high school AU except they still get cool powers and Trauma(tm). Just less than JJK canon so I count it as a win.

I also may or may not have written an entire oneshot (here on AO3) for some freshmen Satoru & Suguru bonding, featuring me still bullying Satoru over his funky eyes.

Image Text (and me rambling more) underneath the cut

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Gojo Satoru (of the Jupiter Clan)

Ignihyde Housewarden Year: Junior Species: Sky Dragon (Fae) Club: Movie Analysis Club Unique Magic: Six Eyes—pretty much just like canon Six Eyes. They can see far and wide and out of normal sight, and they can see magic in a highly detailed manner. They are also powered by magic that just, never stops ever, so he can decrease or increase the power/range at will to a degree, but technically, cutting off magic from them altogether will blind him. Also he has an inherited magic that he by no means asked for, which is, sad drumroll, Gate of the Underworld. (There are no shrouds in this AU, just me finding ways to forever make Satoru instrumental to the well-being of the world to his own detriment. I have waaaaay more thoughts about the "Jupiter Clan of dragons" and what that actually entails, but they are still jumbled and shifting, so. Maybe later.)

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Geto Suguru (of the Draconia Clan)

Diasomnia Housewarden Year: Junior Species: Night Dragon (Fae) Club: Equestrian Club Unique Magic: Magic-eater—can consume and nullify any spell and gain its base magic. With minimum side effects. Mostly. :)

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Satoru and Suguru are their usual brand of special-grade menaces, being the only two adolescent dragon fae in the world, buttttt they still inevitably become besties. With Shoko too, of course, who has no fear and will mess with them as they see fit.

Suguru is essentially Malleus in this AU, though in Suguru-fashion, he's way more stubborn when it comes to trying to catch up. (Translating him being new to sorcery to being new to technology was surprisingly low-hanging fruit.) Meanwhile I borrowed the Jupiter name/legacy because it was fitting and made the Gojo Clan into a long-lived dynasty of antisocial dragons who fist-fight and deal with Phantoms and recently accidentally became a tech empire, which is pretty close to the Sorcerer Family vibe a la TWST, if I say so myself.

There's definitely a lot of backstory I have in mind for the two of them. Neither of them beat teen parenthood (they are currently Malleus-aged, so 178 years old, but that's still teenagehood for a dragon/fae) and acquired children through various means, much to the consternation of their elders/court. I might develop/write more solid ideas later, but Suguru has a reverse characterization moment when he finds two starved/beaten human children (the twins) and begins his journey of losing all intrinsic racism via love, and Satoru still somehow gets his shit wrecked by Toji (probably a heist gone violent or something) and then finds out he had abandoned children: human Tsumiki and half-fae Megumi.

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Nobara Orientation Comic:

Nobara: Obviously, I'm going to get ~Pomefiore~ because I'm elegant and graceful. (And a badass queen, of course)

Mirror: The nature of your soul is... Savanaclaw

Nobara, getting dragged away from the Mirror by Maki: HEY WAIT A MINUTE! STOP MESSING WITH ME YOU DIRTY SMUGED HUNK OF JUNK AND I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT I THINK OF—

(Nobara gets her reverse-Epel moment, but she adapts quickly. Especially because she still comes to have mad respect for Maki.)

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Ieri Shoko

Ignihyde Vice-Housewarden Year: Junior Species: Merfolk (Nurse Shark) Club: Science Club Unique Magic: Reverse—rewinds a target to its previous state within twenty four hours. The longer within the range, the harder/more magic it will take, especially for larger targets, so realistically her range is less. (For example, if someone cracked a piece of glass 24 hours ago, Shoko could restore it, but a day-old wound on a living being would be much harder.)

Making Shoko a mermaid was a joke to myself at first but then I liked it and it spiraled and now Nurse Shark Shoko is unironically one of my favorite things that I have drawn. The joke was right there too, but it's mostly fun to me because nurse sharks are docile and apathetic creatures, for the large part (they are still sharks lol), and I think match her temperament well.

Also when Satoru pestered the previous housewarden enough times to accidentally gain the title for himself, he made Shoko his vice (mostly because he trusted her) to make sure he never had to do the paperwork and the boring parts. She makes him do it anyway. To the dorm, she is less of a vice and more of a "dragon wrangler," which is still extremely appreciated.

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Zen'in Maki

Savanaclaw Housewarden Year: Sophomore Species: Human Club: Track & Field Unique Magic: N/A—Maki doesn't actually have magic of her own, but she is unnaturally resistant to most magic. She can, however, use magic/cast spells through a magic-capable familiar.

She befriended a phoenix when she was younger, having survived an encounter with a wild youth. (idk what I want the details to be but I think it would be cool if she had some related burns to it, with the idea that these creatures are rare and volatile and hard for normal humans to handle without high magic resistance.) His name is Torch because I don't think Maki would put that much thought into a name, so long as its not completely stupid sounding. I almost named the phoenix Jogo but I refrained for my own sanity.

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Inumaki Toge

Savanaclaw Year: Sophomore Species: Human Club: Board Game Club Unique Magic: Reality Speak—pretty much just how Cursed Speech works but with a world-friendly name. Also it can apply to inanimate objects as well. The power and scope of the command is proportional to the magic required.

Toge gets an overall nicer time in this AU because he doesn't have cursed speech 24/7 and therefore can speak normally. Though the idea of him being able to affect people/bend reality with his words does freak people out. I imagine he had a rough childhood nonetheless, because why not, leading him to be less verbal than he would have been otherwise.

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Okkotsu Yuuta

Diasomnia Year: Sophomore Species: Human Club: Board Game Club Unique Magic: Wraith Pact-maker—he can enhance/bolster a ghost's magic/presence through making a link with himself. It has to be mutual, and it can last for any duration of time, although actively using the link does require magic. The ghost in question gains magic and grounding from Yuuta, and Yuuta can use the ghost's magic, including their UM, if applicable. He can have multiple links, but the first and main recipient of this magic is his childhood friend Rika.

Between her longlasting connection with Yuuta and her brutal death, she is a more wraith-like and powerful ghost. Her unique magic was to copy other people's UMs, which Yuuta can use through her in short bursts.

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I didn't have space nor solid ideas for unique magics for the Hasaba twins and the Fushiguros, so I didn't do full bios for them. Later, perhaps. All of the girls are sophomores and Megumi is a freshman. Tsumiki and Nanako are sharing their social brain cell and trading stories of stupid things their dragon dads/older brothers/untitled guardians have done, while Megumi is helping budding-gamer Mimiko learn Pokemon strats. I love the idea of them all being friends, maybe after minimal difficulty in the girls' first year, likely on account of the twins being a little Sebek-shaped, in terms of wanting to be The Best Guards for Suguru, etc etc.

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I technically have way more ideas for other characters and other dorms, but, I will end this here, for now. I am trying to reign myself in lmao.

#jujutsu kaisen x twisted wonderland #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #twst au #yes I made another one whoops #gojo satoru #getou suguru #ieri shoko #sss trio #zenin maki #kugisaki nobara #inumaki toge #okkotsu yuuta #fushiguro tsumiki #fushiguro megumi #hasaba mimiko #hasaba nanako #i had way too much fun with this #i also have way too many thoughts #anyway dragon gojo and dragon getou was my best brain blast #even if I regret drawing antlers on gojo because antlers are hard to draw #nurse shark shoko was also insanely fun #this is the au where the kids get to stay silly and still be traumatized #but less than in jjk canon because my god that's a lot #my brain is still spinning send help #if come back with doodles part 2 know that I have failed myself #but that I am having fun

[oneknightstand-if]

Say deep into the romance(the notorious L word has been said and everything), how protective of the MC's are the RO's? And how would they handle losing the MC(i,e the MC died in the final battle/sacrificed themselves to win the day or something angsty like that)?

Well, a bunch of the ROs will already be trying to protect the MC as much as they can even before any romance, so there's not too much room to improve there. Also high affinity platonic bond can trigger this as much as any romance.

Merlin: Already the resident bodyguard/babysitter/cat-herder of the group. May give the MC a bit more attention when the group is in danger... but they're already watching over you. They'd perhaps feel more regret if they had to cut the MC loose.

For them, MC's death is... expected. Human lives are so ephemeral, after all. They'll always remember you... even thousands of years later and will bring the MC up in random conversations to random people. Probably MC's most embarrassing moments. For anyone paying attention & talking extensively to them in the game, Merlin already has repeatedly brought up their last longterm lover.

Biggest change here would be Merlin nearly killing themself to make certain that the MC's soul doesn't get dragged to Heaven or Hell. That's the fate that they'd find horrific for a loved one, not the natural death expected of all mortals.

Adrian: He's already potentially carrying the MC away from danger through half the city whether they like it or not so there's no room for Adrian to get more protective without going full yandere on you.

If the high affinity MC is dead, then Adrian is also most likely dead as well. He's the most ride or DIE of all the ROs and this already has implications if you go through the route where the MC refuses to leave their apartment and gets kidnapped by Merlin and Adrian.

Arthur: Due to his nature, he's already MAXIMUM THE PROTECTOR. He may be paying a bit more attention to you during times of danger, but he's already protecting you to his full capability and won't be acting any differently... after all, he's the High King and can't prioritize your safety over all others.

The same goes for the MC's death. The Post Apocalypse is still going to be a complete clusterfuck so he won't have time to stop and grieve. (The same as he won't have time to stop and grieve the fall of Camelot and the deaths of most of the people he knew because unlike the other Harbingers who reincarnated or who actually lived through the 1500 years span of time, to him Camelot fell last week.)

He'll create a suitable memorial customized exactly to the MC's tastes once things have calmed down. And Merlin will sneak over to comfort him, because Merlin's one of the few who can see past Arthur's strong front.

Percy: He's going to be hanging around a high affinity MC a lot, romanced or not. You're probably not going to notice much difference protection-wise as he's the sort who'd jump in to help you without a moment's notice even if he didn't like you.

At the MC's death, he'd probably disappear into a forest for several weeks without anyone being able to find him. He'll eventually return to the group though because he knows that he's needed. The MC would've been his first romantic love... and most probably will be his last as well.

4̷0̸4̸ ̷E̷r̷r̵o̴r̵ ̶N̶o̴t̷ ̴F̵o̸u̵n̶d̵: [SPOILERS]

Cassandra: She's a cop, so she's already keeping a protective eye out on the entire group as a whole. She'll be making extra special precautions for a high affinity MC. (This is probably one of the safest positions to have during the Apocalypse... as long as the MC behaves themselves).

Cassandra has some pretty traumatic stuff in her background, so this won't be the first lover she's lost. Her reaction will also depend on how you went... in an awesome blaze of glory (she'll build a statue for you) or something painfully drawn out & full of regret (heads will roll).

Vivian: Uh... you are probably going to need to have a 'discussion' with Vivian regarding her protectiveness. It can get a bit overwhelming at times. Like Merlin, she is well aware of the inherent ephemeral nature of a mortal.

So wouldn't it be better if she just 'took care' of all those people who approach you, just in case they turned out to be dangerous? And actually, why don't you stay with her at the bottom of the lake from now on? All the time. That would be very safe.

Otherwise, whatever killed the MC better hope it's already dead before Vivian gets at them.

Gwen: She's more the type that people protect than the type who protects people. The support from the background type. But you get close enough, that will not stop her at all and she will absolutely try to protect you to the best of her ability. Like right up there in the frontlines. You both may need to end up saving each other in that case.

About the MC's death... it's fine. It's fine. You've already died and reincarnated once. It can happen again. She'll be waiting for you. Eternally if necessary.

Lorelei: She'll already be highly protective of certain types of MCs (romanced or otherwise). Unlike some of the others, there'll actually be a noticeable change in her demeanor.

She's not the type to ever abandon someone in danger, but she will absolutely prioritize a romanced or high affinity MC over others. To the point where highly skilled fighter MCs may need to tell her to take a step back because she's jumping in even when it would be better that she did her own thing.

Will be quietly having a BSOD upon the MC's death (which she' ll blame entirely on her failing to protect and be there for the MC at the last moment). She'll eventually come back to the group as the icy version of Wrath, barely interacting with others while still carrying out her duties. (The other Harbingers are going to really have their work cut out for them there.)

Broderick: Another one who's demeanor will change after getting close to him... especially after what happens in his subplot. He'll be constantly protectively hovering over high affinity MC. But just during the dangerous times. (Which is actually all the time.) The MC will probably need to work through a few issues with him.

He'll be completely gutted by the MC's death and not really functional for quite awhile after that point. Definitely a changed man (and not for the better). It might take years for him to recover.

#Having so many Dead Ends in the game means I've already basically ironed out how the others would react #At least in the way they present themselves throughout the first book #oks-asks #oks-ROs

[vaniloqu3nce]

More about the wenclair kids, this post is dedicated to @krystal-maiden because they wanted to know more about the twins! If anyone wants to ask anything about them, I’d happily share my hyperfixations with anyone (:

Leonidas is a pack animal and prefers company. He follows his moms everywhere and whenever his uncles visit he will hold something they have hostage so they can stay longer. Leonidas was jealous that Wednesday AND Enid had brothers, so he asked for brothers for his birthday. He got two twin sisters instead.

When the twins came home, Leonidas tried to return them because he thought they got the wrong kids.

Vittoria and Naenia are not identical twins, in fact one look at them and nobody could tell they were twins at all. Vittoria is the spitting image of Enid and Leonidas save for her nearly black eyes. And Naenia is the spitting image of Wednesday, except her bright blue eyes which stare into the soul of anyone and everyone.

Naenia and Vittoria were born with their dominant gene being psychic, and because of their twinship they share a connection. If Vittoria cries, Naenia will start crying soon after. If Vittoria is hungry, Naenia will cry, if Naenia wakes up in the middle of the night and sits there quietly, Vittoria will wake up and start crying. If Naenia needs to be changed, Vittoria will start crying. Leonidas noticed this and immediately started trying to experiment to figure out the limits of this. Wednesday always manages to catch him before someone gets beheaded though.

Vittoria was smiling as soon as they left the delivery room. (They had to make sure Leonidas didn’t cut the breaks) Naenia didn’t stop crying unless Wednesday held her and they didn’t like to be separated. Leonidas spent the entire car ride pouting because he wanted brothers.

Naenia has a permanent glare, unless her face is relaxed, like when she’s inspecting Enid’s fangs or near Vittoria. (Naenia will play with Enid and Leo’s fangs as a baby) The first time she smiles is at Leonidas as he’s about to set her on fire, and he decides she is more useful alive (his heart melts and he realizes he’d protect his baby sisters with his life). Vittoria is a very happy baby so long as she’s entertained. She’s very curious and tries to get into everything Leo owns (annoy him to death) and thus starts their life long prank rivalry.

Yoko loves the twins and Leo, she insist they call her aunty or dad (Wednesday firmly disagrees even though she is their god mother). Frequently Yoko just pops into the house with gifts for the twins and Leo. Vittoria loves anything colorful to chew on and expensive (she seems to be able to smell what costs money). Yoko very quickly becomes Vittoria’s favorite and Naenia loves her fangs.

Leonidas always tries to ambush and kill Yoko but she’s much faster and stronger than he is. Yoko just thinks he’s adorable every time he tries to jump on her back with a toy knife. He makes it his goal to defeat her in combat (even though he won’t say it, he respects her a lot). And he likes that she protects Enid, Leo is very protective of his moms.

Naenia loves being around Leonidas, she smiles most as a baby when he watches horror movies with her.

Vittoria loves when there are a lot of people around to watch, she doesn’t like to be bored at all. She often spends time in Leonidas’s old carrier with Enid because she likes to move around. And because Naenia doesn’t like to be far from her, Enid buys a second one for Wednesday to use in public. She is appalled. She wears it anyway. They’re in their snood colors.

Enid: We can match!

Wesnesday: …Leo I think your mom is trying to send me to an early grave.

Leonidas: Grave digging! :D

Wednesday, nodding: Yes we do have to take them on their first grave robbing expedition, they’re getting about that age.

Enid: …they’re five months old.

Wednesday: By that age my father and my uncle had already taken me across the sea to slay my first kraken with them. It’s a bonding experience for family.

#wenclair #eniday #wenid #wenclair parent au #wenclair kids au #enid sinclair #wednesday addams #enid x wednesday #wednesday x enid #wednesday future au #wednesday #enid #enid and wednesday #enid: we are not slaying anything or anyone #leonidas: D: #wednesday: do not worry leo she just doesnt know how fun it is #leo is constantly fighting with Vittoria even though he’s four years older than her #vittoria laughs at him even as a baby #naenia can sit in Leo’s arms for hours just chilling while glaring at everyone #leonidas DOES try to see if they bounce and Wednesday catches them #leonidas does try to fence the twins #yoko: no he already has two moms can i be the god father #wednesday: absolutely not #enid gasping: OFC yes #yoko is technically their god father #yoko appearing on a random tuesday with divina: DAD IS HOME #yoko tanaka

[rebelwrites]

Thirteen: The Man That Raised Me

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till The Wheels Fall Off Masterlist

Warnings: drug use, abandoning, neglect

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

There was a calmness in the air as both me and Charles laid soaking up the sun, I knew I would have to deal with the giant elephant in the room. I needed to come clean to him about my past. I didn’t make a habit of telling anyone my life story, but there was something different about Charles that made me want to tell him every traumatic detail. He made me feel safe and if we were going to see where this thing between us was going he deserved to know the truth.

Propping myself up on my elbow I took a deep breath, “I need to explain something,” I whispered, keeping my focus on the sight of the waves crashing against the rocks on a distant beach. “I saw the confusion on your face when I mentioned changing my last name back to Haynes,” I had spent years blocking out my early years, keeping them under lock and key but now it was time to face the fear of opening up to someone.

“You don’t have to tell me if it is too painful,” he said softly, moving so he was now sitting in front of me, his hands resting on my knees.

“I want you to know,” I mumbled, moving my gaze so I was now looking at him, “JT isn’t my biological dad, he adopted me when I was five, it is something I am eternally grateful for. He is the man that raised me, even though I’m not a Teller by blood he treated me like his own.”

Charles stayed silent as I slowly eased myself into telling him about my past, the feeling of his hand on my knee provided me with the comfort I needed to feel safe.

“Jax wasn’t keen on the idea of having a little sister at first, especially one that was only three months younger than him. But, he quickly got over that, the bond we formed only grew stronger as the years went by. I swear the two of us caused Pops to start turning gray in his late twenties,” I said with a small laugh, Pops always used to call me and Jax his troublemakers but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Letting out a shaky breath I reached for my bag, fumbling inside until I found the packet of cigarettes, pulling one out of the box I placed it between my lips whilst I fished around for my lighter. I couldn’t help but pause moments before I lit the cigarette, did I really need this right now or was I using this as a crutch.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I moved the smoke away. I had been trying to quit for months but I just couldn’t seem to break the habit even if I had managed to cut down on them. Placing the cigarette back in the box I refused to turn to smoking in this situation. Feeling Charles’ arms wrap around me, I focused on the sound of his heartbeat to steady my nerves allowing him to become my bad habit.

Although there was nothing bad about becoming addicted to this man.

“My biological parents were,” I said pausing, ignoring the churning in my stomach, “are drug addicts, I was born addicted to heroin to the point I was only given six months to live,” tears were streaming down my cheeks, I had overcome a lot of obstacles in my life but without JT I sure as hell wouldn’t be here right now.

“Oh sunshine,” Charles whispered, his voice cracking as he spoke.

“JT saved my life, I was only five but can remember the day so clearly.”

The icy wind caused JT’s cheeks to burn, but that didn’t matter to him right now, all that mattered was the young girl that needed his help. Since the day Nova was born he promised to keep an eye out for her, protecting her when and where he could, to always be her guardian angel. He had gotten wind that Jenny and Darren were out on another one of their benders leaving their defenseless little girl home alone.

Tonight was the night he would save her from the living hell she was in without a care for any consequences. Pulling his thick coat tighter around his body, he fought his way through the snowy garden, carefully watching where he was treading because he knew the state the garden had been left in.

These people didn’t care about anything or anyone, all they cared about was scoring their next hit.

John thought when Nova was born things would change, hoping the moment they saw their new born baby strung out on heroin, they would turn their life around but they never did. He was honestly surprised how Nova made it past her 1st birthday, especially when she was only given a life expectancy of six months. In his heart he knew she was a fighter and she was going to be a fierce female, he just needed to get her out of this situation first, providing her with a safe home to be able to be a normal child.

Reaching the back door of the property, he quickly tried the handle first not being shocked that it had been left unlocked. He knew Nova’s situation wasn’t good but he had never stepped foot in this house, not through lack of trying though, every time he tried he was quickly escorted off the property by a strung out Darren.

The moment he entered the kitchen he felt his stomach tighten, the bile rising in his throat as the smell hit him first. He couldn’t even begin to describe the stench that filled the house but it was making him feel nauseous. Pulling his hoodie over his mouth and nose he reached out flipping the lightswitch only to be greeted with no power whatsoever.

“Nova, my sweet little angel are you in here?” John called out, trying not to startle the young girl if she was about.

“JT,” a weak voice called out from the darkness.

“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he responded, pushing his hand into his pocket, fumbling to get his phone. He needed some sort of light to be able to guide himself through the bomb site of a house. He could hear his heart shatter as he shone the light around the kitchen. Every surface was covered in empty beer cans, vodka bottles, along with used needles and other drug paraphernalia.

Moving his phone so it was now shining at the floor, he carefully maneuvered his way through the room, making note of where there were dirty needles scattered on the floor. This poor girl had been through hell and she was only five years old, only two months younger than his son.

“Nova, I promise you everything is going to be okay,” he whispered, as he reached the girl, seeing her in nothing but a ripped onesie that was covered in stains, “nothing bad is ever going to happen to you now.” Tears filled his eyes as he crouched down, he quickly unzipped his coat before wrapping his arms around Nova scooping her off the floor, holding her close to his chest, his main concern was with how cold she was, automatically he pulled his coat around her, hoping the heat from his body would help slow her shivering down, “let's get you home, little one.”

Tears were freely rolling down my cheeks, I would never forget the day my life changed forever. The steady sound of Charles’ heartbeat provided the strength I needed in the moment.

“He is my guardian angel,” I whispered, letting my fingers dance across Charles’ skin, “even before he pulled me from that house he was always looking out for me. The deadbeats that were my so-called parents always brought me down, they always made comments about my body and how I looked,” my voice was weak as I spoke. I felt like I was opening up old painful wounds, I felt so vulnerable right now, “they always said the reason there was no food in the house was because I ate it, because I was a greedy child.”

Taking a deep breath, I roughly wiped my eyes with the back of my hands, pushing myself to my feet letting my fingers tangle in my hair, “I never realised I wasn’t supposed to be so fucking hungry all of the time!” I screamed into the sky, tugging at my roots.

“Oh Sunshine,” Charles whispered, rocking me gently in his arms, “you were only a child.”

“They were my fucking parents, Char. The people who were meant to protect, nurture and love me. I thought they were helping me. When in actual fact they were spending the money for groceries on their next score,” it was only now I realized I still had a lot of pent up anger bottled up inside of me.

Charles pushed himself to his feet, instantly wrapping his arms around me moving me back onto the sun lounger. His hands moved on to the sides of my face, softly wiping my tear stained cheeks.

We both stayed silent for a moment, I focused on the feeling of Charles’ gentle touch. Taking a deep breath I decided I wasn’t wasting any more tears on them, they didn’t deserve it.

“JT cared though,” I said with a small smile, “he would always make sure he picked me up from preschool along with Jax, taking me back to the clubhouse. He always made sure I got a decent meal, a warm bath and provided me with a loving safe environment,” taking another deep breath, I felt the weight being lifted off my shoulders, coming clean to the man in front of me made me see clearly for the first time in a while.

JT had put his own life on the line to save me, yet I couldn’t take the time to listen to what he wanted to do regarding his health.

Me and Jax needed additional help.

“The day after he pulled me from the shit hole he went straight down to the court house, petitioning for adoption,” I smiled, knowing that even though he wasn’t my father by blood he would forever be my Pops, the man that made me the woman I was today. “I will always remember the day he officially became my Pops, you know legally,” I said with a slight chuckle in my tone, “the moment we got back from the courthouse he had Happy set up his tattoo equipment and he got mine and Jax’s name etched permanently over his heart.”

Charles stayed quiet, more than likely processing all the information I had told him but I didn’t need or want his apologies for the world failing me.

All I needed was him.

The fact he hadn’t cut the trip short and bolted said everything to me, “that man means everything to me, so to see him suffering like this is fucking killing me,” I mumbled, fiddling with the bracelets on Charles’ wrist.

“Let me help you, Sunshine,” he hummed, blinking back tears himself, “if you need money, you’ve got it. If you need extra support, I can arrange it.”

My heart practically exploded at his kindness, we had only known each other for a little over a week and he was offering to do whatever he could to make not only my life easier but Jax’s as well. Resting my hand over his heart I let my eyes flutter closed, “I appreciate the gesture Charles but I can’t accept your money,” I whispered, hoping he wouldn’t get offended that I was turning him down. “Me and Jax will be fine, we always figure things out.”

“Babygirl, you shouldn’t have to struggle,” he said softly, taking my hand in his, “you have got to be one of the strongest women I have ever known, the things you’ve been through makes me want to kill everyone who has wronged you. You shouldn’t have to just manage, let me help you,” he whispered, pausing for a second, “please.”

Taking a deep breath I knew this wasn’t going to be something I could sweep under the carpet, the look on Charles face was genuine, he really wanted to help, “I will think about it okay.”

He flashed me a smile but it wasn’t hopeful, already knowing my biggest downfall was my pride. He had seen me practically run myself into the ground, rather than asking for any form of help. I wasn’t going to let my dark past hang over our heads for the rest of the day, especially when Charles had rented out a yacht for us.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @celestialams @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

#charles leclerc #Charles Leclerc x oc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #Charles Leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 x oc #f1 imagine #sons of anarchy #jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine