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#(As depending how deeply you read into it it was...bad.)
yandere-daydreams · 2 months
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tw - dub/con, afab!reader, cockwarming, medical malpractice, nonconsensual drug use, manipulation, unbalanced power dynamics, and obsessive behavior.
[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]
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“It really is a shame to lose such a lovely patient.
His hand drifted from your thigh to your hip, rocking you back as you tried to squirm away from him. He was too deep, too big, and you’d been sitting on his cock for too long. Whenever you tried to shift your weight, though, the arm wrapped around your waist would tighten its hold and drag you back into place, leaving your ass slotted against his hips and your cunt struggling to clench around his base. You didn’t know how long he’d kept you like this, but it must’ve been longer than an hour, if not two, three, four. Despite your foggy senses, you could feel slick dripping down your thighs, an empty void in the pit of your stomach where pleasure should’ve been. You could remember hearing that Harper was a good doctor, but that couldn’t be right. Doctors weren’t supposed to make you feel so bad.
“I mean, I know it should be a doctor’s goal to see their patients off as happy and as healthy as can be, but—” He paused, sighed, and you could picture him rolling his eyes, feigning wistfulness as he let out an airy chuckle. “Good, obedient patients can be so rare, especially in a town like this. I’m allowed to mourn the loss of my best charge yet, aren’t I?”
You felt him twitch inside of you, and in search of a distraction, your gaze fell to the collection of papers fanned out over the desk in front of you. You knew you were supposed to be reading them, but the text seemed so impossibly small, and your last round of medication was still clouding your senses, making it hard to focus on much of anything beyond the throbbing in your core, the feeling of his cock stretching you open despite your body’s best attempts to force him out. You could recognize the phrases, signal out words like ‘unfit’ and ‘dependent’ mixed in with the rest of the benign text, but when you tried to put it all together, none of it made sense. It was all you could do to check the boxes Harper pointed to, sign your name on any dotted lines that hadn’t already been filled by his. You could only hope that, when you finished, he’d let you stand up, get off of him, go back to your cozy room with its nice, soft padded walls. You couldn’t imagine having to sleep in his office, again.
“And you’ve been so cooperative, too,” he went on, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You felt his lips against the shell of your ear, then your cheek. “Always taking your medication, always following your treatment plans, always coming to our little sessions with an open-mind – the pinnacle of an ideal patient. Honestly, sometimes I think I could tell you to stick your hand in a vat of boiling water, and you’d do it with a smile on your face. All for the sake of your recovery, of course.”
It was him moving, this time – shifting forward until your stomach was pressed against the blunt edge of his desk and he was all-but draped over you, his body pressed flush against yours. You let out a pitchy whine by way of protest, but Harper didn’t seem to notice, only humming as his hand found yours. “Almost done, little mouse. Just one more page.” He was practically cooing as he took you by the wrist, guiding your hand to the bottom of the final page. Two thick, cutting lines occupied most of the available space, his neat signature taking up the first. He brought you to the second, almost daunting in its vacancy, his index finger tapping against the back of your hand. “You remember your name, right? Can you write it for me?”
It was so hard to think, to stay awake, to try and remember a time where he hadn’t been planted so deeply inside of you. “If…” you started, only to trail off. You blinked once, then twice, and did your best to force your tongue to move. “If I do, can I go home?”
Usually, Harper hated it when you talked about the orphanage, about school, about home. You hadn’t meant to, you just wanted to go back to your room, and you moved to correct yourself, to promise that you didn’t want to be anywhere but this hospital, his hospital before he frowned and prescribed you another electrotherapy session, another dose of the small, white pills that left your thoughts blurred and your body hot. But, anything you might’ve been able to spit out died with a breathy laugh, a peck to the corner of your jaw. “Of course,” he purred, rocking his hips gently against yours. “Sign, and I’ll take you home tonight.”
For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself start to smile. Hastily, smudging the ink more than once, you scrawled your name across the brutal line, dropping the pen and going slack against Harper as soon as you were finished. There was another open-mouthed kiss to your throat, then the dip of your shoulder, and he dragged you back onto his lap with a playful squeeze to your thigh, a grin pressed into the crook of your neck. You squirmed unabashedly, now, your hands  graspingly weakly at the arms of his chair in hopes of pulling yourself to your feet, but Harper held you tight. “Where do you think you’re going, little mouse?”
“I need to— You said I could go—”
“Just give me another minute, darling.”
His cock pulsed against the walls of your cunt, and you felt something break open inside of you.
“I want to appreciate this moment before we get you to proper, brand-new home.”
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createserenity · 6 months
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Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship dynamic fascinates me and what fascinates me even more is how people perceive them, partly because I seem to have a much more optimistic view of their dynamic than a lot of what I read suggests they do.
With that in mind I started trying to unpick how I see their dynamic and why and what I ended up with was a series of rambles on various aspects, including confidence, trust, silliness and what they ask of each other. This one is about what they ask of each other and why their relationship isn't some weird one-sided thing where Crowley gives Aziraphale everything he could possibly want or ask for.
I see a lot of posts and things suggesting Crowley always rolls over and does anything Aziraphale asks of him. I don’t know to what extent most people really believe this or if it’s just a fun joke (and I’m not saying that’s bad, I think it’s a fun joke too, I love reading all that stuff and it makes me laugh). The point I wanted to make here though is that I don’t think it’s true and also why I don’t think it’s true.
Everything from here on out is my opinion, but I won’t keep stating that in order to make it more easily readable, just take it as a given. If your opinion is different that’s absolutely fine, I love that we can all see this stuff in different ways depending on our experiences and personalities, it’s why the fandom is so fun. (It’s also why my opinion on so many things in season two ricochets wildly from one theory to another).
So back to Crowley and Aziraphale – I don’t think Aziraphale walks all over Crowley, or certainly not to the extent that people sometimes think he does. Also Crowley doesn’t and wouldn’t allow himself to be walked all over anyway. Why is this even relevant? Because I’ve seen people say that in the final 15 minutes Aziraphale finally asked Crowley to do something that pushed him over the edge and that Aziraphale was shocked when Crowley didn’t roll over and do it because Crowley always does what Aziraphale asks. This isn’t at all true for a start, but also this view tends to include a second assumption, which is that their relationship is one-sided and Aziraphale never does anything for Crowley, that he dismisses him and takes him for granted, which also is not true in a lot of ways. I think it’s a fundamental misinterpretation of their relationship dynamic.  
First of all why can Crowley’s actions be interpreted as just rolling over and doing whatever Aziraphale wants? Well, the answer to that is three-fold – firstly Crowley is a genuinely unselfish in many ways, he does things for people because that’s the way he is, it doesn’t make him a pushover, it just makes him nice. Secondly he loves Aziraphale deeply. Whether he knows it or not doesn’t matter, he cares for Aziraphale and wants him to be happy. This isn’t the same as being a complete doormat, it’s simply compromising with the person you are in a relationship with and occasionally prioritising them over yourself. Both these things come together in the third thing, which is that Crowley’s love language is acts of service – he enjoys doing nice things for Aziraphale, he enjoys rescuing him, or going along with him and letting him have his own way, so why not do it? The point is he’s never railroaded into it by Aziraphale, it’s always a deliberate choice. He is literally saying, I will do this thing for you because I love you and I enjoy making you happy and this is something I feel I can give to you.
How does Aziraphale see this behaviour?
Well that’s a tricky one, because in many ways Aziraphale is the more complex character, not least because he changes the most over the course of their history together. Is there a slight element of him taking Crowley for granted in some of their interactions, especially in season two? Possibly, but mostly I don’t think that’s it at all. When someone gives you things because their love language is acts of service you develop a (mostly sub-conscious) confidence in that relationship dynamic and if you also have confidence in yourself (which Aziraphale absolutely does – I’ll write more on this another time) then when you want something you ask for things. You ask not because you learn to expect, but because you think you’re worthy of asking and you think that your relationship is strong enough to stand up to the ask. I ask my husband for things all the time, sometimes they’re things I know he’ll give me – these are easy asks (I don’t just mean physical objects, I also mean acts of service such as helping me with something), sometimes though I’ll ask for things knowing he probably won’t give me that thing or without having a clue what his answer will be – these are harder asks, the sort you don’t do early on in relationships because they might break it either in one go or over time. Sometimes a hard ask results in me getting what I want, sometimes it results in a bit of back and forth before I get what I want, sometimes I get a no and I’m temporarily annoyed or upset, sometimes I get a no and I accept it because I knew it was the most likely outcome.
The point is that I ask, and so does Aziraphale. You ask because you have confidence that you are worthy of the ask and also that your relationship is strong enough to bear the request, even if the answer is no. Can a no still be annoying or upsetting? Yes absolutely. Can a no still be wrong on the part of the other person? Also yes. The point is that sometimes the no isn’t wrong and it doesn’t necessarily break the relationship. By the time season two comes along Aziraphale is confident enough in his relationship with Crowley to feel it can bear the weight of him asking.
So what happens when he asks? Does Crowley roll over?
Well no, he doesn’t. One big example of this is right at the beginning of the series, in episode one. Here Aziraphale makes a massive ask of Crowley and he knows it’s a big ask. Even before he tells Crowley what the problem is he’s aware of the possibility of a no. “Is it something I can help you with?” Crowley sayss, and Aziraphale merely shrugs. It’s not because Nina is there, she’s gone by that point. It’s also not because he doesn’t have faith in Crowley’s ability to help him, he always has faith in Crowley’s abilities (this is a whole other thing on trust). What he’s doubting is whether Crowley will help him. It’s why they’re meeting in the café, not the bookshop. He wants to break this one to Crowley a bit at a time – there’s a problem and I need help. I want your help, it’s why I called you, but you aren’t going to like it and I’m not even sure whether you will help so I’m establishing that I need help first, rather than showing you Gabriel immediately, so that you aren’t completely surprised when I present the whole problem to you.
Once they go to the bookshop and Crowley is confronted with Gabriel he offers the help he feels able to give by saying that he’ll drive Gabriel somewhere and dump him. He’s stating his willingness to help (which is important later), but for now he’ll only help in one specific way. What he isn’t willing to do is any more than that, not even for Aziraphale.
Help me take care of Gabriel. Help me sort this mess out, Aziraphale says, and what does Crowley say? No. Absolutely not. You’re on your own with this one. Even after Aziraphale practically begs him for help, complete with puppy dog eyes and the magic word, “I’d love you to help me,” Crowley still says no. That is not the reply of someone who lets themselves be walked all over or who rolls over every time the angel they’re in love with flutters their eyelashes.
Okay so what about the fact that he returns? Well, the stakes have been raised: for a start Aziraphale is now directly in danger, which alters the balance in favour of helping him, and remember he was already willing to help, he said as much, but he was previously only willing to help in one way. Now that’s changed. Doing things you wouldn’t normally do for someone you love when the stakes are raised is a perfectly normal rection in a relationship and does not indicate an unhealthy dynamic. Crowley has now realised that getting rid of Gabriel is no longer an option - his preferred plan (dumping Gabriel somewhere) will no longer work, so the only choice is now Aziraphale’s plan of keeping him in the bookshop and taking care of him.
This is why he returns.
A quick note on the call
Just backtracking a bit here – when Aziraphale calls Crowley to ask him for help Crowley agrees to be over in two minutes. It’s instant, no questions asked and at first glance looks like Aziraphale calls and Crowley comes running just because. But nope. Later we are very clearly told that Crowley knows something is wrong the moment he picks up the phone and Aziraphale starts speaking, “This was your ‘Something’s Wrong’ voice.” Crowley already knows there’s a problem and what do you do when your closest friend calls you and tells you about a problem? You try to help. Whether that’s advice, comfort, physically going around to help out or whatever the situation calls for. Of course Crowley says he’ll be there in two minutes, he doesn’t exactly have anything else on and his friend has just indirectly told him something is wrong. He’d be a pretty shitty person/entity if he didn’t agree to drop round and try to help.
So what about the 'I was wrong' dance?
This whole interaction, that many people say indicates how under the thumb he is actually shows us the exact opposite. What’s the first thing Crowley says when Aziraphale asks him to do the dance? “I don’t do the dance.” This tells us a hell of a lot about their relationship dynamic up to this point – for a start Aziraphale has clearly done the dance before, at Crowley’s request, and he lists off the occasions. The dance is silly and slightly demeaning and Aziraphale has done it several times for Crowley, whilst Crowley has never done it, yet somehow we read this whole scene as Crowley being the whipped one? Um. No. Also heavily implied in Crowley’s, “I don’t do the dance” statement is, You’ve asked me to do this before, I’ve always said no because I don’t want to. You’ve always accepted my no before and I want (expect!) you to accept it this time.
But this time Aziraphale doesn’t accept the no. Just like Crowley wouldn’t go along with his plan earlier, Aziraphale now won’t go along with Crowley’s no. Clearly he has done so in the past, but this time their dynamics are different. They’ve been much more open about their friendship for the past four years, they’ve both accepted that they are at least close friends, if not more. They’ve saved the world together and saved each other. They both acknowledge they “carved (this existence) out for ourselves” and that brings strength to their relationship. Now that Aziraphale has more confidence in what they are to each other, he takes that confidence and tests the limits of what Crowley will do for him, to push them more towards equality. Why should he always be the one to do the dance? Crowley responds by acquiescing not because he would just roll over and do anything for Aziraphale but because he recognises three things. Firstly that Aziraphale is pushing and that this is new and that this means something to him in the context of their relationship, secondly because he reluctantly accepts Aziraphale’s point that it isn’t really fair that he never does it, and finally because the request for him to do the dance isn’t about him refusing to help (Aziraphale was never certain he would), it’s about the fact that he’s broken Aziraphale’s trust by refusing to help (which is a slightly and very subtly different thing). To illustrate this, right before Crowley does the dance, just after he says “fine,” he gets this very brief, soft look on his face – this is him acknowledging to himself that Aziraphale deserves this dance, that he loves the angel and that he’s doing this because of both those things – he could have continued to insist on a no, he clearly has before, but this time he chooses not to.
I will do this thing for you because I love you and I enjoy making you happy and this is something I feel I can give to you.
All right, what about the car thing?
What about it? Lending your car to the person you love is very normal. Ok so the car means more to Crowley than a normal car does to us, but the point still stands. Aziraphale is making a reasonable request here. Does he expect a yes? Absolutely, because he also knows it’s a reasonable request given where their relationship is. Does he flirt to get his own way? Hell, yes. Does Crowley know exactly what Aziraphale is playing at? Also a hell yes. And Crowley totally plays up to it, he’s not as opposed to it as he claims. He’s playing up his “no” and his grumpiness for effect, to encourage Aziraphale’s silly flirtiness. Look at the difference between this no and the no he gave Aziraphale earlier. There’s no anger here, there’s no real sense that he thinks Aziraphale is asking too much, he’s playing a role in their relationship and they’ve both played this game before. Look at that little slap of the hand, which Aziraphale responds to equally playfully. The game even continues after Muriel turns up at the shop, when it’s already quite clear that Crowley is going to let Aziraphale use the car (he’s already taking the plants out). Even in the back-room Crowley still teasingly grumbles about trains whilst Aziraphale smiles flirtily, and Crowley playfully withholds the car keys when Muriel interrupts them. They both know Aziraphale is going to end up with them, there’s no point to him not directly handing them over in spite of the interruption, it’s just an excuse to tease Aziraphale back. I mean, look at him – he spends the rest of the conversation wiggling his hips, grinning smugly and confidently handling the Muriel problem by talking about love. Aziraphale’s very overt reaction tells you all you need to know about the dynamic of this one.
Two can play at this flirting game, angel.
But he follows him around like a little puppy!
Well, yes and no. Sure he follows him around whilst he goes around asking all the shopkeepers to the meeting, but he does that because it’s fun for him. He’s curious, Aziraphale is acting oddly, doing something he’s never done before and Crowley wants to know what it is. He’s always found him fascinating – what silly and ridiculous thing is the angel up to now?
Also wanting to hang out with the person you are in love with isn’t at all strange or a sign you are in some sort of weird relationship where only one of you calls the shots. It’s normal. Crowley knows Aziraphale has a tendency to be silly or do unexpected things and he wants to watch him do them and also flirt with him whilst he’s doing them. Looking grumpy and reacting to Aziraphale’s silliness with disbelief is how Crowley flirts-without-flirting. Both of them know, understand and like that dynamic, and he has that role not because he’s unhealthy levels enthralled with everything Aziraphale does but because of the levels of trust they have spent millennia establishing.
What Crowley doesn’t do is wait around for Aziraphale. Look at the scene where Aziraphale daydreams about Job. In that scene he’s aware Aziraphale has something else to show him (the record clue), but he doesn’t stick around whilst Aziraphale ignores him. He could have sat down somewhere in the shop and waited – he’s got an eternity, waiting an hour or so is no big deal, but waiting around like that would suggest he really is a doormat, just waiting for the next time Aziraphale shows him any attention. He doesn’t do that, instead he goes off and does… well, something. There’s a lot of speculation over what it is, but whether he goes off to read Pride and Prejudice or just wanders off to find something more interesting to look at than the back of Aziraphale’s head, he’s clearly saying here that he has a life outside of whatever Aziraphale wants to do.
Also side note - you know what else he doesn’t do for Aziraphale? Adjust his driving style. Aziraphale clearly hates it, it makes him nervous and he even asks Crowley to change several times whilst they’re in the car together, but Crowley never does. This is how I am angel, accept it or don’t, but this is the line and I’m not changing this for you. Related to this is his refusal to accept Aziraphale altering the Bentley. Aziraphale tries to persuade him, “But it’s pretty,” and Crowley really isn’t having it. It’s another hard line and he’s not going to let Aziraphale cross it.
Anything else?
There’s a few other examples that I’ve seen listed in the, “Crowley does whatever Aziraphale says/wants” evidence piles. Things like Aziraphale assuming he’s going to get the drinks in the pub. Well, someone has to get them, and it makes perfect sense that they both assume it’s Crowley here because he’s the one more comfortable with pubs. Having a role that you take on within certain situations in a relationship is healthy and normal, imagine how exhausting it would be to debate who is going to do every little thing all of the time.
In the first series the coat cleaning is another example often cited, but this is something Crowley is perfectly happy to do. Aziraphale is flirting, which is delightful, and he’s not being asked to do anything difficult or dangerous. I will do this thing for you because I love you and I enjoy making you happy and this is something I feel I can give to you, which is totally different from, you always ask, I always give, and you always take.
What about Aziraphale. When does he give?
All the damn time. We just don’t notice it as much because Crowley asks different things of him. His love language is acts of service towards others, but he doesn’t really ask or require them in return. Sometimes he gets them from Aziraphale anyway (Holy water anyone?) Also notably in the Globe Theatre when he’s clearly the one pushing the Arrangement, and Aziraphale more or less agrees to do his work for him (“That doesn’t sound like hard work”) even before he’s asked, before they’ve gone through their little dance of Crowley pushing and Aziraphale supposedly-reluctantly agreeing.
The other things Aziraphale gives Crowley are much more nuanced, and much less measurable to us as the audience, but he gives them constantly, or more or less constantly, throughout their relationship. He gives him acceptance (although he occasionally partially withdraws it, such as in the bandstand scene), his silliness (which is more important than it first appears), a safe space (not just the bookshop, but also a safe space for Crowley to air his real views without fear of consequence, which is important irrespective of whether or not he persuades Aziraphale to agree with him), his physicality (by 1826 he’s really in Crowley’s space so much of the time) and most importantly he gives Crowley himself. Crowley constantly pushes Aziraphale to grow as a person, it’s one of the original reasons he entertains developing a friendship with him. What he asks of Aziraphale is for Aziraphale to think – really think – about what he believes. And Aziraphale does so, but only for Crowley. Humans have constantly questioned religious beliefs throughout history, they’ve written books, made speeches and even had wars over religious doctrine and the problems, inconsistencies and absurdities within it. Crowley is saying nothing to Aziraphale that he won’t already have indirectly heard from humans and dismissed or ignored. But when Crowley says it, he thinks and he changes. That’s what Crowley asks of Aziraphale and it’s what Aziraphale gives him.
What was the point of all this waffle?
Well, honestly there isn’t much of one. Only that their relationship is much more balanced than some suggest and I think I just wanted to spell that out. It also has an implication for the final 15 minutes. There’s no way Aziraphale goes into that with some sort of fake confidence that he can persuade Crowley to follow him to heaven simply because Crowley always follows him – Crowley doesn’t, he has very clear limits that he enforces with Aziraphale and Aziraphale knows this. He might feel confident for other reasons (such as thinking Crowley will be happy to be an angel again) or something else entirely different might be happening (so many theories!) but I’m pretty sure it’s nothing to do with thinking Crowley always does what he asks, because he very clearly doesn’t.
It's also why Crowley waits around afterwards to watch Aziraphale leave. It’s a way indirectly of saying one final time, I love you and I enjoy making you happy… but this is something I cannot give to you.
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ohmytyong · 8 months
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mark me in your heart
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PAIRING: drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader (female!reader)
GENRE: angst, smut, kinda friends with benefits au, bartender!renjun, best friend!renjun, action au, open-ended narrative
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, explicit description of drug use (don't do drugs kids), use of pet names, trust issues, explicit language, mentions of food, smoking, emotionally unavailable characters, both mark and y/n are kind of assholes, explicit sexual content, angry make-up sex, rough-ish sex, unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, choking, lip biting, nipple play, pussy slapping, spitting, oral (both m and f receiving), degradation, praise, spanking, crying, hair pulling, incredibly cringey dirty talking, aftercare (?), not proofread (let me know if i missed any!)
WC: 13k (12,975)
‣[PLAYLIST]: 505 by arctic monkeys, bad omens by 5 seconds of summer, slow down by chase atlantic, why do you only call me when you’re high? by arctic monkeys, a little death by the neighborhood, okay by chase atlantic
SUMMARY: when a sensitive and broken heart meets another one of the same nature, their instinctive reaction is to seek comfort in each other, and in order to heal themselves, they both need to be equally strong and willing to put all their broken pieces back together. but sometimes, some hearts aren’t strong enough to be saved; the only way to save them is if the stronger heart of the two is willing to take the risk and try for the both of them, whatever it takes.
A/N: it's finally here! it took me too long to finish this one but here it is! i know it might seem a bit fast paced or vague in certain parts, but remember this is all about the vibes and i deeply hope that you will enjoy it and give it some love because it definitely needs it <3
read on wattpad / ao3
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“Hey Renjun, pass me that glass” you said as you wiped the thick tall glass completely dry before you put it back on the shelf behind you. You were moving mechanically at this point, the exhaustion of the long night at the bar taking over your entire body. It was 5 in the morning and you had just barely managed to kick out some of the remaining drunk nobodies who were so wasted, that their toxic-infused brains couldn’t even give them the signals to move their own bodies.
Working at the bar wasn’t your dream job but it’s not as if you had a better choice. It was either a bartender or a stripper. Both of them sounded equally bad, so you decided to opt for the slightly better one. If you could even say it like that.
It wasn’t a particularly ideal job but it was enough to get you by. It earned you enough money to buy you food and pay the rent at the motel you were staying at, it got you as many free drinks as you needed to help your mind escape from all your worries and you also got to meet some relatively cool people, so that was somewhat good. The working hours weren’t such a big of an issue either, you couldn’t really sleep anyway. So you were fine with it.
Most nights, the bar usually closed at around 3 am. There wasn’t a set rule on this; it usually depended on how many customers there were and how much they were drinking. Your boss had suggested that you shouldn’t keep the bar open all night long, so you kinda decided that it was best to close a few hours after midnight. You weren’t complaining about this though; the sooner it closed, the more time you’d have to get high with your co-worker Renjun at the alleyway behind the bar.
Unfortunately, tonight luck wasn’t on your side, as a group of friends kept on drinking more and more as the hours passed by, which meant that you and Renjun had to keep the bar open until later. You weren’t opposed to this idea, it only meant that you would earn a little bit more money. It was Renjun who started complaining, so he decided to take action into his own hands and practically dragged the drunks out of the bar.
This is how you ended up cleaning up the place this late, rather this early in the morning, with your co-worker. The two of you were too tired to speak, so neither of you made any efforts to spark up a conversation. You both just attended to your respective tasks, waiting for a specific somebody to show up.
Luck surely wasn’t on your side tonight. He would usually show up at around 3:30 am, right after the bar closed, and he would have all the stuff ready, just at the exact moment you needed it. Why was he late today?
It didn’t take a genius to understand that Renjun was clearly affected by the lack of the stuff. He moved around the place nervously, tugging at his hair and stomping his foot rhythmically. He was in a desperate need of it, and you would honestly lie to yourself if you said you didn’t need it half as much as Renjun did.
You put the last clean glass on the shelf behind you and went over to the storage room to grab a broom, so that you could clean the floor a bit while Renjun was still wiping the bar counters. As soon as you closed the door of the storage room, the little bell that hung above the bar’s front door rang with a tinkle and soon after it followed the sound of the so familiar footsteps you were waiting for all night.
“Hey kids, Santa’s here,” his voice resonated in the empty room as he waved a small transparent plastic bag that looked white because of its content. Renjun threw the handkerchief he was holding to the other side of the counter and dramatically jumped over it to go and hug the male who just entered. All of that just at the sight of the clear plastic bag with the snowy content.
“Mark, what took you so long my guy, I’m literally a dead man walking! Give this beauty to me,” Renjun exclaimed and snatched the plastic bag straight out of Mark’s hand. Mark smirked at what Renjun said and immediately started grinning at the sight of the boy’s eagerness.
Renjun went to sit on the bar stool closer to him and placed the bag on top of the counter he had just wiped clean. With slender fingers, he opened the plastic bag and dredged some of the content on the counter. With nervousness in his movements, he set the bag aside and shuffled through his back pocket to find his ID card. He started scattering the white dust all over the counter before he gathered all of it in a straight line with the help of his ID card. When he was satisfied with the result, he put his ID card back into his pocket, lowered his head to the level that his nose touched the cold surface of the counter, took a deep breath and snorted the entire line of crack, the product going straight up into his nostrils.
Renjun blinked several times before he slowly lifted his head. He scrunched his nose and wiped it with the back of his hand, his drowsy eyes looking surprisingly bright considering his state. “Man, whoever hasn’t done crack, never, they haven’t known the beauty of life yet” he chuckled. Mark smirked at Renjun’s comment and you couldn’t help but shake your head amusingly, a small smile creeping up at your face.
Renjun took the plastic bag with the rest of the cocaine and put it in his pocket. “This baby’s for me, thank you,” he amused and turned his heel towards the storage room. “Don’t come look for me, I’ll be right here. If I take too long to come out, then you should be concerned,” he said and closed the storage room door behind him; a scene that was surprisingly quite familiar to you.
You then set the broom down and walked towards Mark. “Hey” you whispered and Mark greeted you back in a low husky voice. “What took you so long? We were expecting you to come earlier” you asked him.
Mark shrugged and leaned his elbow against the counter. “I came by at our usual meeting hour and saw that you guys were still open. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me so I decided to drop by later,” he said and you nodded in understanding.
“You do have more of those plastic bags on you, don’t you?” you asked him and he chuckled. “Of course I do, pretty. Let’s go outside and treat ourselves a bit, shall we?” he suggested and you nodded again, walking beside him towards the alleyway behind the bar.
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The sky was painted in a deep hue of light blue, the moon and the stars still visible in the early morning sky, the sun barely seen in the horizon. You huffed in a sharp breath and put both your hands inside the pockets of your jeans as a reaction to the crispy air of the early morning, as you leaned your back on the damp wall behind you. Mark followed right after you and did the same. He shuffled into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clear plastic bag full of crack, two crack pipes and a lighter. With almost automatic motions, he filled the pipes with crack and lit them up. He handed you one of them and kept one for himself.
You looked at the crack pipe as if it were an oasis in the middle of an infinite desert and you were so thirsty that your dried up mouth and throat were already relieved just by the sight of it. It only took you one second to react to the visual stimuli in front of you, quickly removing your right hand from your pocket and pulling the pipe straight from Mark’s hand. You brought the pipe to your lips, closed your eyes and took a long, slow drag. This was exactly what you needed.
You immediately felt your body relax and your mind clearing up. The moment you took the drag in, all your worries and problems completely vanished, even if it were only temporary. It was your brief sweet escape from the huge bitter world you were forced to live in.
A chilly breeze flew and you lifted your shoulders at the shivering sensation. Mark noticed immediately and he pulled you closer to him, removed one of the sleeves of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder, slinging his arm over it too.
"So," Mark spoke up, breaking the easing silence, "how was work today?"
You shrugged your shoulders. "Eh, like usual. Bunch of random people came in to drink their problems away and give us their money in exchange for adulterated alcohol. But Renjun had to drag some of them out of the bar, he literally grabbed them by their collar and feet and dragged them out of the store, you should have seen it. It was way too funny" you said and chuckled at the memory of the incident that happened a couple hours ago.
Mark giggled at your statement. "Damn," he dragged out the word, "too bad I missed that" he said and brought the crack pipe to his lips and squinted his eyes in pleasure and relief when he inhaled the poisonous content.
The next few minutes remained silent. There was only the sound of cars passing by being heard in the distance, it was probably people going to their early shifts at work. Normal types of work. Unlike the one you had, unlike the fate you brought upon yourself. That’s when the realization of your situation hit you like a truck. How could your family cut you off so easily when they found out that your dreams were different from what they were expecting of you? Were you just a tool for them? Another burden to take care of?
"You seem unhappy" Mark broke the silence. He was looking straight ahead in the distance, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular, probably because he was a bit too high to notice anything.
"Because I am" you responded to his comment, turning your head to look at him, searching for a sense of home into his soulless eyes.
Mark smirked and turned his attention to his heels. "You know, I wanna help. Right? You know that" he said with a raspy voice due to his sleeplessness. "But I don't think that feeding you drugs is any help" he now turned his head to look you in the eyes.
You pressed your lips into a thin line before you spoke. "I ask for the drugs Mark, you're not feeding me anything. It's my only escape, what else am I supposed to do?"
"I love you, Y/n" Mark said.
You winced at his confession and turned your head to avoid his gaze and fixating yours on the wide sky ahead of you.
"You're high, Mark. Cut the crap" you said in a bitter tone.
"Do you think I'm lying? I mean it, Y/n. I fucking love you, for whatever reason I do. And I care about you, so come with me and let's get out of this shitty town. I’m running out of time too, they’ll soon find where I live" Mark defended himself.
You turned again to meet his eyes. "And go where, Mark? Where the fuck should we go, huh? I don't have anything else to do other than this shitty job. I only keep it because I need the money to survive and it's the only way to keep myself sane. The people I used to call family kicked me out of my house and this was the easiest solution I could come up with before I would collapse entirely and before it would become too difficult to get back on my own feet. So what else is left for me to do?" you were clearly getting angrier now, but not at Mark. At yourself.
Mark's eyes darkened in sadness. "That's what I'm saying! You deserve better than this! Look, we have enough money. I do deals, but I know this is a job I can't have forever. I told you, I’m on thin ice. If I’m seen doing deals again, I’ll go to jail. You know I play the guitar, right? I can join a band or something. I know a friend downtown, he might be of help" he said.
"And you," he continued, "you're a great bartender. You could make a career out of it" he said.
You shut your eyelids and shook your head in denial. "It won't work out. I'm a mess, you're a mess. We can't make this work. It's impossible" you said, turning your head away.
Mark sat up straight and put his hand below your chin to turn your attention towards him. "Look at me, Y/n. We can make it work. Believe me. Trust me. I can't leave you living like this. And I certainly can't live a life like this myself. You're the only person I can make a change with. I need you" he said.
You gulped and stared right into his eyes, unable to form a response. "So you just need me as a means to get you out of town and help you start your magical new life. No thanks, Mark, I'll pass" you said and shoved his hand away to release his grip on you.
Mark became frustrated and moved to stand right in front of you. The half of his jacket that was wrapped around your shoulders dropped and it hung behind his back.
"Okay, look Y/n, you're tired and you're high. We'll have this conversation again in the morning" Mark said defeated.
Your energy was running low despite the boost of energy you had just inhaled, so you let yourself loose. "Let's get you back to your room. You need some rest. Come on, I'll drop you off" Mark suggested and you gave in to him completely.
You took a step towards him and stumbled a bit. Mark, with his rapid reflexes, caught you firmly by the forearm and guided you to his car. The last thing you remembered was the faint sound of the car door closing, before you were engulfed into pretty sleep.
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The next day you woke up to the sound of light guitar strumming from across the dim lit motel room. It was already past noon; the curtains were still drawn closed but the midday sun rays found their way in between the curtain folds and peaked through the dirty motel room windows to light up the inside of the place.
Mark was sitting on a wooden chair across the bed with a concentrated look on his face. With his jaw clenched and his cheekbones popping, he strum his fingers through the guitar strings, playing random chords in an attempt to create a melody he liked.
You shuffled between the bedsheets and stretched your body all over the old bed. A squeaky sound echoed in the room due to your sudden movement, which caught Mark’s attention. His strumming stopped abruptly and his head jolted up in surprise, his eyes opened wide and his lips dropped to a pout.
“Did I wake you up? Shit, I’m sorry” he whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible.
You rubbed your eyes to clear your vision and looked at him. “No, you didn’t. I like what you’re playing. Sounds pretty” you reassured him. “Good morning, Mark”
His previously guilty expression was taken over by a wide grin appearing on his face, which turned into a bright smile. “Good morning, pretty,” he said.
You smiled at him and he went back on strumming random chords on his guitar. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of his messy hair and wrinkly t-shirt due to the, apparently, good quality sleep he just had. Your obsessive thoughts took over once again and didn’t let you enjoy this glimpse of happiness in the abyss of misery you were engulfed in. Your lips gradually dropped to a frown and your vision became blurry again.
Mark wasn’t perfect, but neither were you. He came into your life at the perfect moment, when you needed him the most. It was your first day at the bar, your first time as a bartender. Renjun had been training you all day, teaching you the basic parts of the job and giving you tips on how to handle weird or creepy customers. You were completely drained out that day, so your co-worker and soon-to-be best friend had promised you a pleasant surprise by the end of your shift.
Renjun’s definition of a “pleasant surprise” was slightly different from yours. That night, Mark walked into the empty bar with steps full of confidence. You didn’t know him back then, but from the very first second you saw his figure enter your life, there was only one word that kept circulating your mind; trouble.
Mark was trouble. With his sharp gaze and well-defined features, captivating aura and assertive moves, it was more than obvious that this guy would mean nothing but trouble to you. For some inexplicable reason, this was exactly why you were instantly attracted to him.
Mark came in carrying all the usual stuff Renjun wanted and gave them over to him without talking much. The two guys seemed to share a lot of past memories together, and you were right. Renjun had filled you in later that night on his relationship with Mark and how they helped each other stand back up on their own feet after they were forced to leave home. A story very familiar to you.
Mark came by the bar every single night. He didn’t give Renjun drugs every time, but he sure enjoyed both your and Renjun’s company. It’s not as if he had anywhere else to go.
That’s how you grew quite fond of him very easily. You found yourself looking forward to the end of your shift just so you could see him. He once offered you drugs but immediately took back his offer when he saw your shocked expression. You were at the lowest point in your life and doing drugs wouldn’t be the wisest habit to take up, even though this was, at the same time, the exact reason why you should do drugs. Eventually, reality hit you and you caved in, waiting for Mark to come at the end of your shift for one more reason other than just seeing him. He was reluctant at first. Mark didn’t want to drag you into this lifestyle, so you annoyed him and begged for it until he finally gave you the lethal medicine.
You and Mark were surprisingly very similar. Maybe that’s why you bonded so fast with each other. And maybe that’s exactly why you were equally bad for each other. You could see so much of yourself in him, just at a more put-together version. Sure, he was a drug dealer, which was certainly not a better job than yours, but he at least seemed to have a purpose in his life. Unlike you.
As time passed, you started spending more and more time with him. You would smoke crack, get high, talk endlessly until your mouths dried up, go back to your motel room, have sex with each other, and repeat. You found comfort in his presence and became attached to him without even noticing.
But you didn’t love him. No, you couldn’t call this love. Rather, you were depending on him, no matter how much you hated that. He acted as an emotional support beacon to you, you enjoyed his company and, if you were honest, you genuinely liked him. But it was hard for you to admit to any deeper feelings, so you repeatedly tried to convince yourself that you didn’t love him, so that it wouldn’t hurt as much if he ever decided to switch on you. You hoped it wouldn’t turn out like that.
You lightly shook your head to get rid of all these thoughts and got out of bed to wash up a bit. “I’m starving, I’ll go down to the diner to grab some breakfast, do you want anything?” you asked Mark as you were heading towards the humid bathroom.
“Let’s go eat there. Together” Mark suggested and you stopped at your steps.
He always avoided going out in places that were too public because he was at risk of being outed as a dealer. Especially now that he was caught selling drugs once and the guy who saw him threatened to report Mark to the police.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re on thin ice, you said that yourself” you raised the tone of your voice and walked towards him. 
Mark put down his guitar to focus on you. “You worry too much Y/n, like, what are the odds? We’re in the middle of nowhere, I doubt anyone knows this place apart from us and the customers of your bar. I think we’ll be fine,” he cleared his throat, “I mean, I’ll be fine. Relax, I wanna spend some time with you.”
You decided against protesting and trusted Mark’s certainty of his words. Besides, he was right. The diner was out of town, it wasn’t very popular among people who weren’t familiar with the bar. Most customers at the diner were either drunk people from the bar or passersby. So you simply just nodded and whispered a soft “okay” before you went inside the bathroom, the door emitting a creaking sound as you closed it shut behind you.
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The screeching sound of the fork scratching the surface of the porcelain plate turned your facial expression into a wince, which went completely unnoticed by Mark whose attention was entirely devoted to the pancakes in front of him.
The old diner was relatively empty despite it being lunch time. Other than you and Mark, there was only a group of friends and a guy sitting on a barstool. You were actually very satisfied with the quietness of the place, which was only disrupted by sounds of forks scraping plates and glasses thudding on the tables.
The diner was situated right down the same road your motel was at, so anytime your stomach growled in annoyance you would stop by and fulfill its needs. You were practically a regular customer now and probably the one who kept the place from going bankrupt. It was old, cheap and dirty; the perfect place for you.
Mark gulped down the last bite of his pancakes and thirstily drank the entire glass of water. He then set the glass down and leaned back on the booth, fixating his gaze on you.
You noticed his eager eyes on you and you set down your fork, mimicking his stance and staring right back at him, waiting for him to speak.
"That was a pretty good meal" Mark sighed and you smiled a bit. This wasn't what he wanted to say.
Since Mark seemed to be unwilling to speak his mind, you decided to take matters into your own hands instead.
"Why did you want to have lunch with me?" you asked him with your voice calm and your eyes searching for an answer in his.
Mark crossed his arms and scrunched up his nose before he answered your question. "’Cause I wanted to spend time with you. Actual time. You know, like normal people?" he said.
You rolled your eyes at his response and mimicked his body language once again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't buy it, Mark" you said.
Mark sat up straight and leaned closer to the table, resting his elbows on top of it. "Why are you always like this, Y/n? Whenever I tell you something, you never believe me! What's up with you?" Mark's frustration started building up in his attempt to defend himself.
"It's not that I don't believe you-"
"It's that you don't trust me" Mark interrupted you and you stood there with your mouth still open. You didn't know what to say.
Mark's gaze was piercing, his sharp eyes were darker than usual and his lips quivered at the blank stare you were giving him. "You don't trust me," he concluded.
The truth is that you weren't sure if you trusted him or not. You wanted to trust him and he had proved to you numerous times that he was someone who cared and didn't lie. Yet sometimes, you were afraid that if you trusted him too much, he would end up hurting you. So every time he said something you weren't expecting him to say, you immediately assumed that he was lying.
"Mark, listen to me," you started to say and Mark sat back against the booth, rolling his eyes. "I-I do trust you, it's just that-"
"What? You think I don't mean what I say? If I didn't meant what I fucking said then I wouldn't fucking say it! When I say I care about you, Y/n, I fucking mean it. When I say I fucking love y-"
"Don't get mad" you were the one that interrupted him now. Mark was clearly way too frustrated by you now, his voice was getting gradually louder, his eyes were full of fire and his nostrils were fuming.
At the sudden raise of Mark’s voice, the guy who was sitting at the barstool turned to look at your booth with a brief glance and then returned back to eating his food.
"Mark, just let it go, please" your voice came out almost like a whisper. You hated when Mark became angry at you and you hated it even more when he did it in public, even though it was practically just you and him in that diner.
Mark's jaw visibly relaxed and he lowered his eyes to his lap, nodding to himself. He lifted his head to look back at you with pleading eyes, much in contrast with his previous fiery gaze.
"Then why don't you come with me? Out of this fucking town? You deserve to live a better life than this. We deserve it. Look, I know I don't have an exact plan on how we'll do it, but I know that we can figure it out together. Please, Y/n" he said, taking your hand in his from across the table, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.
You lowered your eyes at the spot your hands were joined together. Did you really love Mark? No, actually, did you really trust him enough to depend your entire life on him?
You couldn't give him an answer at that moment. Not a yes, not a no. Not even I don't know. Forget that, it would complicate things even more.
Mark noticed that you weren't going to give him an answer to his question soon, so he let go of your hand and started putting on his jacket. He reached into the inside pocket and took out some cash. He slammed it on the table and got up from the booth ready to leave.
"I have to go to work now, alright? I've arranged some deals. I'll come back later at the bar tonight. If you ever decide what you want to do with me, you know where to find me" he said and without even turning to look at him, you heard the sound of his footsteps grow fainter as he walked out the diner.
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The bar was relatively full tonight. From behind the counter, you could spot only two empty tables. That was the fullest the bar has been in the last month. At the far back of the bar, you spotted Renjun already counting the tips he had earned and it was still midnight.
All the customers were busy chatting and enjoying their drinks. You found yourself craving some alcohol too, the need for an intoxicant substance was growing stronger and stronger, so you decided to mix just a little bit of something to treat yourself.
As you were filling in your glass, Renjun walked behind the counter and leaned close to your ear to speak, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to hear him through the loud chatting of the customers. “Man, I think we are in heaven, I lost count of my tips and I’m not even high yet” he said and you giggled at him.
He noticed the bottle of vodka you were holding and nudged you on your forearm. “Hey, pour me some of that too” he asked and your response was to grab a glass from the shelf behind the counter and fill it with the toxic liquid.
You had barely stopped filling in the glass when Renjun grabbed it and downed the liquid in an instant. He placed the glass on top of the counter with a thud and licked his lips, savoring the bitter taste. “What’s up with you and Mark?” Renjun asked you. You contemplated whether you should answer him or pretend you didn’t hear him just to buy you some time. A good couple of seconds passed so you just caved in and answered him.
“I don’t know. Go and ask him.” you said in a tone filled with nonchalance, sipping on your drink.
Renjun rested his elbows on the counter, his eyes scanning the place around him. “He said the exact same fucking thing when I asked him about you. You can’t be running in a vicious circle all the time. Just fuck it out, you’re both acting like little kids” he said and you sighed at his scolding tone.
Renjun wasn’t just your co-worker, he had also grown to become your best friend, a person you could talk to freely without fear of judgment because he always understood your intentions. Engulfed in your misery and loneliness, he was the person who helped you get back on your feet and have hope that things will somehow get slightly better. That sounds like something a friend would do.
You brought the glass to your lips to drink the last sip of vodka that was still inside, leaving it empty waiting to be filled with more of that toxic liquid. “You wanna know what, Renjun? Even though I hate the life I’ve made for myself, I enjoy having Mark in it. But I can’t do what he asks me to do. I can’t depend my entire life on him. I can count on him for some of it, yes, but starting anew with him? I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m not the kind of person you want to start a life with. I will fuck everything up. And he shouldn’t count on me as much as he does. It’s for the better. For both of us.”
Renjun kept staring at you, waiting for your little rant to be over so that he could take his turn to speak. He gulped and looked at your burnt out figure. Your eyeballs were turning a bit crimson due to the line of cocaine you snorted earlier, even though you promised you’d wait until Mark came later, and the lack of sleep provided you with dark hues under your eyes and skin as pale as the moon. 
“Look, Y/n,” Renjun started and came a bit closer to you so that he wouldn’t have to strain his vocal chords in order to be heard, “I see your point. And I understand exactly what you mean because I felt the same way when I came here. But in my case, I had nobody to lean on. I became an addict, left home and the rest of the story is familiar to you. But you and Mark have each other and, trust me, your future is looking way brighter than mine.”
You looked into his eyes searching for honesty. Renjun has always been honest with you and you never doubted any of his words. He really cared about you. Mark too, as it seemed. And he was right. Living in a cheap motel, starving and working long hours to barely make ends meet, depending on drugs and more specifically on an exceptionally lovely drug dealer wasn’t the life you imagined to have. But fate had different plans for you and now you ended up here, whatever this here is supposed to be.
Mark didn’t seem to be ill-intentioned. From the very first moment you met him, he was protective and caring, he had always treated you nice. He spoke to you softly and touched you in a just as smooth way. But the life he was living wasn’t that much better than yours; in fact, you could say it was even worse. He depended on you as much as you depended on him.
You didn’t know what was the thing that made you keep a sort of distance from him. Emotional distance. Part of it might be because you weren’t available to be fully devoted to him, because of fear that one day he would leave you, just like everyone else did. Part of it might be because the two of you weren’t so different and two broken souls mending together doesn’t necessarily make a fully healed one.
“I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. I could do it later but I’m afraid I’ll be too high to think rationally. Or maybe this will give me more insight, I don’t know, I’ve never thought of it. Do you think clearer when you’re high?” you asked Renjun but he was preoccupied, looking at the screen of his phone which radiated such brightness his eyes squinted as a reflex.
Scanning his features more carefully, you realized that the reason for his scrunched expression wasn’t lying solely on the brightness of the screen. You took half a step closer to him and Renjun tilted his phone away from you, hiding the screen from your eyesight.
“What’s wrong, Renjun?” you asked with worry lacing the tone of your voice. Renjun shook his head and put his phone away in his back pocket. “Mark won’t be coming by later. Something came up, I’m afraid we’re in trouble too. Listen, can you handle the bar for a couple hours by yourself? Mark needs some help” Renjun said, searching for his jacket underneath the counter.
Your eyes widened at Renjun’s words and you felt your heartbeat racing and your fingertips trembling. “Is Mark okay? Tell me, is he okay?” your rising voice quivered, betraying the nervousness you felt.
Renjun squeezed your shoulder and pressed his lips together in an attempt of a reassuring smile. “Yes, he is alright. He’s fine. He just needs some help with the cops. If you see anyone suspicious showing up, flash the stashes down the toilet, we don’t want them finding anything. I’ll be back soon.” 
With swift movements, Renjun turned his heel to walk out the bar in a hurry, muttering something under his breath that, due to your shocked and nervous state, you failed to hear, “How am I gonna save your ass this time, Mark?”
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As soon as you heard the bell on top of the bar’s front door tinkle, you knew that Renjun was already outside and you were left alone in the bar. You were left standing frozen behind the counter, staring into nothingness. Your vision became blurry due to the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes, your hands curled into fists and your nails were digging deep into your palms, cold sweat forming at the sides of your forehead.
You were terrified. Mark was already caught selling drugs very recently, so your mind went to the worst case scenario which made you extremely terrified; that Mark was caught selling drugs by the police. 
You dreaded this moment at the exact same time your eyes met Mark’s sharp ones. You knew that, once you became thick as thieves with a drug dealer, you would be in for a lot of trouble. 
But you also knew how careful Mark was and this gave you hope that, whatever the case is right now, he would find a way to get himself out of there. Mark was a smart guy. You wanted to trust him, you wanted to believe that he would be smart enough not to get himself in trouble.
Yet something didn’t add up. Mark has been doing these types of deals for a long time now, he knew all the tricks of the job and he knew very well how to protect himself. So it sounded almost impossible that he would do something so reckless and irresponsible to get him caught. 
There was only one possible and logical answer to all of your questions. That somebody ratted him out.
Your train of thought was disrupted by the husky voice of a man. “Excuse me, miss, would you mind pouring me a drink?”
Your head snapped at the sudden sound of a voice other than the one inside your head. Your eyes met with a man sitting on a barstool at the other side of the counter, looking at you with wary eyes. Your gaze was roaming all over his figure when your eyes halted for a second as soon as they spotted something shiny at the right side of the man’s chest; a badge.
You cleared your throat to cover up the anxiety and fear that started to appear in your voice. “Officer! What can I get you?” you greeted him with bright eyes and a cheerful voice that masked your intense heartbeat and the trembling state of your hands behind the counter.
“Actually, I don’t want a drink,” he started and moved his hand inside his jacket to pull out a file with pictures and papers, “but I do want you to help me with something. Have you ever seen this guy?” he asked you, placing the file on the counter and turning it to your side.
You gulped at the sight in the front of you and your eyes quivered from side to side. A mugshot of the face you grew to almost love was staring back at you. Sharp gaze and popping cheekbones, defined jawline and dark eyes were presented in front of you and you knew more than well enough who the person in the picture was.
Your heart sank at the sight of Mark’s mugshot and you knew what you had to do. You drew in your eyebrows together and lifted the picture with your hand in order to bring it closer to your eyes and examine it better. “I don’t think I recognize this man, officer” you said.
You set the picture down on top of the counter and looked at the police officer, not trying to avoid eye contact. You wanted to seem as less guilty as possible.
The police officer took the picture and put it back inside the file. “Really? That’s a shame. But I’ve been informed that you do know this guy because you were seen with him this morning.”
You froze immediately. Your brain tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, you tried to digest and connect everything the cop just said in order to form your answer.
“Are you sure about this, officer? A lot of other girls look like me, maybe it was a mistake?” you asked with a rising intonation in an attempt to defend yourself by adding another lie to your previous one.
You tried to remember where you could be possibly seen with Mark, especially during the day. You always met with him at night and you avoided seeing each other in the morning. There was no way anyone saw you with Mark.
The moment you had this thought, the answer to your question suddenly popped up in your head as if a lit up light bulb. That morning, you and Mark had breakfast down at the diner. And you specifically remember that suspicious guy who kept staring at the two of you.
That’s when you knew you had to do something drastic to get you out of this situation, and you had to do it relatively fast.
The police officer didn’t seem to buy the lie you had just uttered and continued to pressure you more. “Is this where you keep all the drinks? Can I take a look inside your storage room?”
The rhythm of your heartbeat kept increasing more and more by each word the police officer said and you were running out of lies and excuses.
“Sure, it’s this way officer” you said with a nonchalant tone, gesturing towards the door behind the counter. 
The cop stood up and turned his heel to walk behind the counter and towards the storage room door. Your trembling hands had barely managed to hide the stashes you kept behind the cash register under your oversized shirt, and you followed the cop inside the storage room with uncertain steps.
The police officer could not find the rest of the stashes. It shouldn’t happen, and you had to act smart in order to prevent it. “Can I help you with something, officer? We can’t stay in here for too long, my co-worker finished early and we’re not allowed to leave the bar without having anyone to tend to the customers” you said in an attempt to speed up the process and get rid of him before he could find anything that could put you in jail.
“You can go back to your work, miss. This is my job here, you can go and do yours” the cop said as he had already taken a bottle of vodka in his hand to examine it for anything suspicious.
“Okay, I just wanted to help. Call me if you need anything,” your answer was convincing enough for him, but it wasn’t good enough for you to buy you more time.
You left the storage room and stood right outside the door, leaving it so open as to let you peek through it so that you were able to see what the police officer was doing.
With your still trembling fingers, you took out your phone from your pocket and dialed Renjun’s number with quick movements. Without taking your eyes away from the cop, you kept tapping your foot waiting for Renjun to pick up his phone.
The constant beeping sound in your ear signaled that Renjun wasn’t going to respond soon, so you put your phone back in your pocket and tried to think of what to do.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you muttered under your breath, running your fingers through your hair. Your eyes were wavering from the police officer to the customers in the bar and then back to the police officer. You had to do something to get everyone out of there.
Your eyes followed the cop’s figure and certainly didn’t like what you were seeing. The cop squatted down so that he could reach the boxes under the shelves and stretched his arm to pull out one of them.
“No, no, no, fuck” you whispered. Those are the boxes in which you hid the drugs.
You turned your head to look at the inside of the bar. It was fully packed. There was not any chair or barstool that was empty and, just at that moment, the door opened to reveal a group of friends who wanted to get drunk and have fun just like the rest of the people inside the bar.
The only person who wasn’t having any fun right now was you. And obviously Mark and Renjun as well, who you had no idea about their whereabouts or their well-being. On any random night, all these people in the bar would equal a pretty satisfactory amount of tips that would make your life slightly easier to get by. However, you could definitely not say that for this particular night, when your main priority was your and your friends’ safety.
Shifting your gaze from the customers to the police officer and back to your phone for any missed calls or unread messages from either Renjun or Mark, you were completely on your own on this one. Cold sweat engulfed your entire body as the seconds passed and the cop was one step closer to finding the thing that could turn your entire life upside down.
You swallowed thickly and looked at your phone one last time. No sign of anybody.
“Okay, I got this” you muttered to yourself and walked behind the counter where you usually stood. A middle-aged woman was sitting on one of the barstools, smoking and sipping lightly from the cocktail you mixed for her earlier. You picked up the first bottle of alcohol you saw on the counter - you didn’t have the time to care what it was - and walked towards her.
“Excuse me, miss, would you like a refill?” you asked politely to gain her attention. Before she even opened her mouth to speak, your actions were faster than her words. You quickly snatched the cigarette from her hand and put it out on the counter, immediately pouring some alcohol right on that spot.
Soon enough, flames started building up and the counter caught on fire. The smell of smoke became suffocating and it was hard to breathe in such a small space full of people. Your plan worked.
Muttering a string of “sorrys” to the woman, you turned around to pull the fire alarm. Every customer turned their heads to the direction of the piercing sound full of worry. “Everyone must get out, the building is on fire!” you yelled as loudly as you could, motioning everyone out the door.
Very quickly, you managed to evacuate the building by leading all the panicked customers outside the bat through the front door. In the midst of all this chaos, you noticed with the corner of your eye the police officer you rushed out of the storage room without looking any scared at all. 
You ushered the last customers outside as the fire grew bigger, eventually leaving you and the cop as the only ones inside the flaming place. As he passed by you to get out the bar, he leaned closer to your face and whispered. "That was smart, young lady," he said and walked outside towards his car.
So he knew, you thought. He knew all along about the drug deals happening in this place and mainly the drug possession. He almost tricked you into thinking you tricked him. How amateurish of you.
You walked out the bar and shut the door behind you, watching the police officer drive away. A sigh of temporary relief escaped your lips and you pulled out your phone to dial a phone number you weren't particularly happy to call. Waiting for a few seconds, you heard the dreadful voice on the other line. "Hey boss, um, is it easy for you to come down to the bar? We kinda have a small problem" you said with a rapidly beating heart.
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The time was already 3:16. You were pacing around your motel room, patiently waiting for any news about Mark. You had already called and texted him multiple times, but all of your efforts to reach him went in vain.
A few minutes after you called your boss, she arrived at the bar, totally shocked and deeply saddened upon seeing her not-so-small business all up in flames. You explained to her what happened, shaping the story so as not to sound guilty, and luckily she didn't blame you for anything.
After the firefighters arrived, your boss encouraged you to go home, saying that you already went through a lot for the night, so you needed to get some rest.
So now you were back to your motel room, unable to get some rest because you were still scared about yourself and your previous interaction with that police officer. But most importantly, you were anxious about Mark.
You were terrified for him. And your fear only increased because you couldn’t do anything to help him or save him. You realized that you depended on him twice as much as he depended on you and that made you feel useless in situations like this. Knowing that Renjun was - probably - with him eased your nerves a bit, but, at the same time, knowing that you didn’t do anything to help him made you feel selfish and hopeless.
Everything you did tonight was to save no one else but yourself. The entire night, you kept worrying about yourself and how you could avoid going to jail when during those very same moments in time you had no idea how Mark was or what he was going through.
Mark wasn’t the helpless one in this situation; it was you.
As you picked up your phone to call Renjun again, a loud thumping noise on the door startled you. Your body jolted up upon hearing the sudden sound and you walked nervously towards the door to look outside through the peephole.
Your eyes widened in shock and surprise at the sight of the face that was constantly on your mind. You didn’t waste any time opening the door and pulling the boy you were aching to see all night long inside the motel room, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.
You rested your head in the crook of Mark’s neck and he reacted to your touch in an instant, stretching his arms to the small of your back to hug you as tightly as he physically could.
Tears fell from the corners of your eyes and you pulled back just as much as you needed in order to look into Mark’s exhausted eyes without breaking the embrace. “You can’t imagine how scared I was,” you whispered.
Mark stared deeply into your watery eyes. He moved his hands to cup both of your cheeks and nodded his head when he processed what you just said. “I know, I was terrified too. Renjun came to help me but we kinda fucked it up" he said with a stinging tone in his voice. 
“What happened?” you asked and Mark let go of you and walked towards the bed in the middle of the room, sitting on the edge of it. You copied his movements and sat down right next to him, turning your head to his side as you waited for him to fill you in on what you had missed.
“That bastard ratted me out. That asshole from the diner. I had a deal with some teenagers and he called the cops on me. I don’t even know how he tracked me down.” Mark confessed looking straight, his eyes full of void, focusing on nothing in particular. 
“Anyway, they took me to the police station and started questioning me about all this bullshit. There was no way I could excuse myself, they literally busted me, they saw me doing the deals. I texted Renjun and, I don’t know what he said to them but it didn't go well," he stopped to take a deep breath despite the desert that formed inside his mouth and the waterfalls that were forming in the corners of his eyes, "so we basically ran away and sooner or later the police will find me. I had nowhere else to go and I knew that your place would be relatively safe." Mark finished reciting you the events of the last few hours, tears staining his cheeks like the raindrops of a drizzle.
The dried tears that stained your cheeks became wet again when the new set of them fell down your face. You were staring at Mark through your teary gaze, trying to find any emotion in his void expression. He had never looked so soulless and it terrified you even more.
But the truth is that Mark himself was trying to mask his fear and anxiety by not showing them. The tears that traveled from his bambi eyes down to his popping cheekbones felt empty and the sight of him in such a state brought a stinging pain to your heart.
“So w-what does that mean?” your voice trembled at each word you uttered as you faced Mark with nothing but fear and another emotion that, at that moment, resembled love.
Mark made an attempt to wipe most of the tears off his face with the palms of his hands so that he could face you with clear vision. “It means I might go to jail. I will go to jail, unless I get out of here” he said. “Fuck, those bastards gave me an excuse to leave this fucking place” Mark scoffed as he sat up from the bed and started roaming around the narrow room, hands resting on his waist.
Your eyes trailed on every single one of his moves. You blinked several times to prevent any more tears from falling and cleared your throat to avoid your hoarse trembling voice. “So you’re really leaving” you said quietly, more to yourself than to Mark.
Mark turned around to look at you. “Yeah, I am. First thing in the morning. I don’t have many things to pack so it won’t take me long. And I can help you pack your things too, it will be quicker if-”
“Who said I’m coming with you?” you interrupted Mark and you immediately regretted doing so once you met his fuming gaze, which was now completely taken over by anger but was previously filled with nothing but emptiness.
“Y/n, we agreed to this. You’re coming with me and that’s it.” Mark growled as he took a step closer to you.
You stood up and started walking nervously around the place you called home, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to ease your nerves. “We never agreed to anything. I told you I can’t-”
“Bullshit, that’s what you told me. Everything you said is bullshit. I want nothing but the best for you, we’ve been meaning to do this for such a long time and now that we have every reason to leave, you don’t want to! What’s wrong with you Y/n?” Mark clapped back at you.
A tear dropped down to your feet as you looked at Mark’s reddening face. Your lips trembled in your attempt to voice out your feelings, unfamiliar to your vulnerable state. “I’m scared, Mark,” you paused to sniff your nose, “I’m so fucking scared. For you, for me, for everything.”
Mark’s features softened at your sudden confession. He remained silent, gesturing to you to move on.
It was hard and unusual for you to open up to him like this. You hated the fact that he made you weak, that he had such a strong effect on you to make you eventually do as he says. But there was always this evil little voice in your head that told you not to trust him because, in the end, he would act just like everyone else and leave you.
“Do you know how scared I was tonight? I almost risked my fucking life for you! I had no idea where you were, I didn’t know what happened or why, and you know why? Because you never tell me anything! You only care about yourself,” all your fears and anxieties exploded and the outburst was so big you didn’t know how to stop. And you couldn’t stop even when you took a glimpse of Mark’s furrowed eyebrows and frowned lips, which you couldn’t tell if they were the result of sadness or anger.
You didn’t want to hurt him. But at this state, you couldn’t remain silent anymore. It wasn’t Mark’s fault, but you had reached a point where you couldn’t bottle up anything you felt anymore, so he just had to take everything you said.
You took a deep breath before you licked your dry lips to speak again in a calmer but still bitter tone. “If only you would disappear from my life I would-”
You never completed your sentence because Mark dashed towards you and grabbed you by the neck, squeezing the sides just so, so you could breathe a little bit, his face only a couple inches away from yours. “Shut the fuck up” Mark spat out with a growl which immediately kept you quiet.
His blackened eyes were piercing right through you, his fully black pupils bore into your wavering ones. You stood frozen there, completely locked in your place under Mark’s forceful hold on you, a position which made your lower stomach twitch.
Neither of you spoke for a few seconds. Mark’s face was painted in crimson, his eyebrows fully drawn in together and his nostrils flaring out, as he tried to keep his breathing steady. His angry state scared you even more; not because he would hurt you, but because he could hurt himself. Behind the mask of the angry man he presented himself as, you were the only one who could see the sad little boy who wanted nothing else from you but to love and trust him.
With Mark’s hand still pressing on your neck, your voice barely came out when you tried to speak. “Mark please, say someth-”
Mark interrupted you once again by smashing his lips on yours with the same force he held you under him and the same desperation he hid behind his bloody gaze. You didn’t waste a second, responding in an instant to him, moving your lips to the pace and rhythm he settled. You slightly parted your lips to allow him access to deepen it even more, as he slid his tongue in your mouth to dance with yours.
His presence and strong grip was too much to endure, so you stretched your arms to grab his hair. Mark sensed your need for more support, so he lessened the pressure on your neck and moved his free arm to the small of your back.
The previously quiet room was filled with the lewd sounds of your lips and tongues and the soft grunts and whimpers that left your lips in between each violent connection between them. You hadn’t realized how much you needed Mark, how much you had missed his touch and his burning essence on you until this very moment. Your body reacted to him almost immediately, as you felt your blood flow from your heart down to your aching core.
The heated argument from earlier was now completely forgotten and transformed into a passionate battlefield between two broken souls. Mark's crack infused breath, the bitter taste of alcohol on his dry lips and the lust overtaking his brain and controlling his actions electrified your entire body. There was not a single part of you that didn't want Mark, that didn't desire him and you couldn't help but want more of him.
Your brain, too foggy from the bold emotions and the alcohol you had consumed earlier, couldn't work properly, so your primal instincts took over you entirely. You kept kissing Mark while biting on his lower lip, which resulted in low whines coming out of him, his hardening length growing more inside the pressure of his pants.
You could sense him struggling to keep his cool and you were trying to give yourself some friction too by rubbing your thighs together. You reached your hand down to Mark's pants, cupping his dick outside the thick fabric of his jeans, the teasing action causing him to roll back his eyes.
Mark stopped kissing you abruptly and without wasting any time, he threw you on the bed with all his strength, watching you with hungry eyes. You plopped down on the bed, the sheets creasing at the sudden force and you looked at him with a lustfull gaze that invited him in.
"Wanna fuck you so dumb right now" Mark growled lowly as he took off his shirt from the back of his neck in a swift motion and continued to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving your pleading ones.
You followed along, removing your own shirt and shorts, lying in bed only in your underwear. Mark had now discarded himself completely off of all his clothes except from his boxers, which had an undeniably visible precum stain on them.
Mark's body hovered above yours, connecting his lips with yours for a brief moment before he pulled back to attack your neck, biting and nipping on the spot right under your ear, which earned a loud gasp from you.
His lips kept on abusing your neck area, as you locked your fingers in his hair, tugging and pulling at it with every bite on your neck and chest. The hot sensation of his lips, tongue and wet saliva all over your body made you whimper under him, a sound that made his cock twitch inside his underwear.
Mark traveled lower down to your chest. He slipped his hand behind your back to undo your bra, removing the bra straps off your shoulders eagerly and tossing the piece of clothing somewhere in the dirty motel room. He was quick to attack your hard nipples, dropping his head to suck on one of them, and reaching the other one with his hand, twisting and rubbing it between his fingers.
Your moans and whimpers echoed in the room, the sound and smell of your bodily fluids polluted the small space, everything about the inside of the place being purely filthy.
The heat in your body kept rising and you could feel the stickiness in your panties. You wanted Mark, all of him. You wanted him to treat you however he wanted to, you wanted to please him by giving him all of you and you wanted to feel desired by him.
"Please Mark," you breathed in a soft moan, "please fuck me" your face reddened in your pathetic confession, but it didn't seem to stop Mark from ripping your panties apart, leaving your dripping cunt exposed to the dirty cold air of the room.
Your drowsy eyes and rapid breathing fueled Mark and all his inner needs, as he lifted his body off yours and parted your legs with his hands, pushing your thighs apart. You were breathing heavily in anticipation of his next move, which was a sharp slap to your pussy that sent a strong bolt of pleasure through your whole body. You moaned in pleasure and surprise and Mark repeated his action at the sound of your whiny moans.
"You're a pathetic little slut after all, aren't you?" Mark lowered his head and spat on your pussy, which had you clenching around nothing. "Look at you, begging to be fucked" he brushed one finger up and down your clit, just enough to tease you and elicit a sharp intake of breath from you. "You really pissed me off, you know?" he muttered.
"Please Mark, I want you. I need you so bad, please fuck me" you whined with a high-pitched voice, the one you knew that Mark could never resist, as you pouted your lips at him.
Mark rested his hands on your knees, holding your legs as far apart as possible, so as to have full access to your glistening cunt. His dark eyes were filled with nothing but hunger and lust, unable to control himself any longer from how bad he wanted to taste you. He lowered his head even further, brushing his lips over your clit.
"As you wish, princess" he mumbled to your wet core before he attacked your swollen bud, licking and sucking on your clit with absolutely no remorse.
A loud moan escaped from your lips at the abrupt touch of Mark's wet tongue on your pussy, your hands intertwining in his hair, grabbing and pulling at every licking stripe Mark left on you.
He kept on licking and sucking on your clit, mumbling sweet nothings and small praises, which reminded you more of the Mark you knew rather than the cold and hungry man that was presented in front of you a few minutes ago.
The lewd sounds of Mark's lips and tongue on your pussy mixed with your whiny moans turned him on to the fullest, as he pulled one of his hands away from your knee and dropped it down to slowly pump his dick underneath his underwear.
The burning desire rising up in his body was becoming too much for him, so he pulled away from your clit with one last sucking pop and took off his underwear, setting free his painfully hard length.
Mark positioned himself between your legs and with a swift motion, he turned you over to your stomach, pulling you by your hips so that your ass was higher up towards him.
"Need to fuck you so bad" Mark growled as he smacked your ass cheek with a sharp slap, your pussy clenching at the burning sensation.
"Please, Mark" you whined in the pillow, a tear rolling down your face and landing on the sheets as a response to the overstimulation taking over your body.
The way you kept whining his name and the juices almost dripping down your thighs had Mark gritting his teeth. He gave himself a few more light strokes as he positioned his dick right at your entrance. Without giving you any warning, he dived into your pussy with a sharp stroke.
You shut your eyes in pleasure and gripped the sheets tightly until your knuckles went white as Mark pounded into with sharp rhythmic strokes, each one pushing your head further into the pillow.
Your moans were coming out as crying mumbles as your face was buried deep in the sheets. Mark kept his pace and force, his head lolling back at the intensity of the moment. He kept his one hand on your hip in order to keep you steady while, with the other one, he reached down to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging at it and pulling it roughly, an action that triggered your hot tears to spill from your eyes at the pure sense of pleasure.
Mark's breathing was heavy and sharp at the sound of your soft growns and the sight of your ass jiggling at each stroke he left. "Is this what you wanted, pretty? Me fucking you so good you end up a crying fucking mess?" Mark provoked you in a voice as deep as the ocean, his groans low and hot like the pits of hell.
The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed inside the four walls of your motel room. Mark's hips connected with your ass in an intense force and a static speed, as he hit the spot that always brought you closer to the edge.
"I-I'm close, Mark, p-please" you whined as he gradually took you closer to your limits, your lower stomach twitching in pleasure and your jaw going slack as you felt your climax rising more and more.
"Let this pretty pussy cum on my dick, come on baby" Mark growled and with that, you let out a high-pitched groan into the pillow as your pussy clenched around Mark's dick, the forceful grip of your hands on the sheets was slowly loosened.
You felt Mark's strokes become sloppier as you coated his length with your warm fluids. He quickly pulled out and turned you over so your back was touching the soft mattress. He moved his body closer to you, pumping his dick slowly as he brought the tip to your lips, brushing softly against them as an invitation to take in his dripping cock.
"Open up for me, pretty" his fully blackened eyes bore into your teary ones. You slowly opened your mouth and Mark quickly pushed his cock into it, moving his hips as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on his veiny length.
"That's right, baby. Such a good girl" Mark whimpered as he slowly released into your mouth, his hot cum dripping down your throat. You swallowed all of it completely before he pulled out and laid down on the bed next to you, both of your heavy panting echoing in the now quiet room.
Mark took a few seconds to ease his breathing and turned to the nightstand above his head to search for the pack of cigarettes you kept hidden in the small drawer. He took one cigarette out of the box and brought it to his lips. With the lighter you kept inside that very same drawer, he lit it up, smoke immediately coming out of it. The room now smelled like a mix of sex and smoke, and you winced at the odd yet satisfying combination. Mark took a long drag out of the cigarette and then puffed the smoke into the filthy air.
As soon as you caught your breath, you turned your body towards Mark's, looping your arm around his waist and resting your head on his chest. Mark responded to your intimate touch, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders, stroking your hair lightly. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and then brought the cigarette again to his lips.
After the long and terrifying day you had, you finally felt at ease. Your heart was beating normally, your breathing was steady and your mind was blank. All you could do was savor this moment with Mark, wrapped around his arms and listening to his beating heart, a sound that promised you that everything would be alright.
"Please don't leave me, Mark. I wouldn't know what to do without you" you whispered to him as you slowly drifted away to deep sleep. Mark didn't say anything back. He kissed your forehead again instead and inhaled deeply, exhaling in a long sigh, as his eyes were fixed outside the window, looking over at the bright city lights.
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Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of chirping birds outside your window. From the way the room was illuminated and from the shadows that formed behind every object, you could tell that it was only a few minutes after sunrise, and the bright orange sun confirmed your speculation.
With your eyes still half-open, you stretched your arms above your head and groaned, a soft yawn leaving your pouty lips. You then shifted between the sheets, turning your body to the other side of the bed, moving your arms around in search of the drug dealer’s toned body, the one that hugged you tight to sleep.
“Good morning, Markie” you mumbled, still half asleep. You rested your head on the pillow, still patting the mattress when you couldn’t sense the male beside you. Your eyes widened in an instant and your body quickly adjusted to the awake state. You were focused on the other side of the bed, where the boy you spent the previous night with would be lying sound asleep. Instead, you were met with nothing but tangled bedsheets.
“Mark?” you called again, in hopes that maybe he was in the bathroom and he couldn’t hear you. No response.
You yanked the sheets off you and rushed to the bathroom, opening the squeaky door with more force than you intended. “Mark?” you called, but the calling was in vain.
Maybe he went down to the diner to get us breakfast, you thought. It was still very early in the morning, but the diner never closed during the night, so there might be some leftovers or, if you were lucky, some fresh food at this hour.
So you decided to wait for him, thinking that his whereabouts were probably the old diner. Since you were now fully awake, you decided to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes. It will only be a few minutes, Mark will probably be back by the time I’m finished, you thought.
So you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water fall down your tense shoulders in order to ease your nerves and help your body physically relax. Your mind brought up the memories of the previous night you spent with Mark. You thought about the cop that came to the bar, you thought about the fact that Mark was in serious danger, you thought about your argument with him and how you made up afterwards by having steamy sex, just like every other time.
You didn’t know how to label your relationship with Mark, or whatever you had with him. He was more than a friend but less than a lover. He protected you, cared for you, helped you with any troubles you had and was always there for you, whatever it took for him. And what did you do for him in return? Nothing.
You did absolutely nothing, at least nothing that could compare to what he did for you. And you hated yourself for not being able to pull him out of his misery, even for the slightest bit, when he could even go as far as to move mountains just to see you crack a smile.
You didn’t deserve him; yet you were too selfish to let him go. He was a soul that wanted to fly and be free, but his wings were weighed down by your annoying fears and anxieties for the unknown.
The water dripping down your body suddenly turned cold and you immediately turned off the faucet and ran out of the shower, wiping your body dry with a towel. There was still no sight of Mark, so you quickly put on some fresh clothes and searched throughout the room in order to find your phone and call him.
Your eyes scanned every corner of the room where you could have possibly left your phone, when your gaze dropped to the wooden chair across the bed, the one where Mark usually sat when he played the guitar, only to find a folded piece of paper.
You stepped closer to the chair, picking up the piece of paper and turning it around. With shaky hands, you slowly unfolded it and a shiny bright red guitar pick fell on the floor. You picked it up, bringing it closer to your eye only to recognize it as one of Mark’s favorite ones.
You held the pick between your fingers and sat down at the wooden chair, looking at the wrinkly piece of paper. Written with a dark pencil, you recognized the sloppy handwriting and the small neat letters as none other than Mark’s and you couldn't help but feel your eyes sting in threatening tears as you slowly read and processed each heartfelt word he wrote:
Dear Y/n,
You’re probably reading this because you can’t see me in your room. But don’t bother look, because I have already left for a better, safer life and I won’t be coming back.
So here’s everything I couldn’t bring myself to say last night.
I love you deeply, Y/n. And I know your feelings towards me differ from my feelings towards you, but I’m not scared to hide it. You’re afraid of the power your heart holds and I understand that. For that, I will give you time, as much as you need to learn how to use this power.
I don’t know if I am a strong man or a coward for leaving; that I’m not sure of. But what I’m sure of is my life, and right now my life is in danger. I always spoke to you about how I wanted to have a normal life, to escape from this hell hole and build a different path for me.
Most importantly, I wanted to build this path with you. You’re the only thing that made this hell hole bearable, the only thing that gave me purpose, the thing that made my life have a meaning.
But I took some time to think and I realized that I can’t force you to follow the same path as me, no matter how much I need you or how much I want only what’s best for you.
So I left. I left to build this new path and I will try as hard as I can. I don’t care if I fail, because I know I can keep on trying and, no matter where you are, just the thought of you gives me strength.
I’m leaving you a piece of me behind though. My favorite guitar pick. I want you to have it. You can keep it, burn it, destroy it, I don’t care what you’ll do with it. I just want you to have something to remember me, something that means to me as much as you do.
So, for the meantime, mark me in your heart like I have marked you in mine, and think about what makes you truly happy. If you ever change your mind, you already know where to find me.
Your beloved,
M.
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rick-rayson · 17 days
Text
LUCY MACLEAN┊ DATING HCS
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A/N: I'm back to feed my own obsessions hi hello beenaminit
NOTES: POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR THE FALLOUT SHOW!! Though I tried to keep it very ambiguous
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┊BEFORE DATING:
Let's be honest Lucy probably fell first, whether you're a Vault Dweller or Wastelander it doesn't matter. Despite the privileges of the vaults, Vault 33 has hardwired Lucy's brain to freely feel and act on emotions with vigor.
Having been raised in a meritocracy, Lucy believes the best way to win your affections is through active illustrations of her skills, knowledge, and attentiveness. Very much an acts of service person.
And very, very bad flirting.
"You're really well learned in enacting violence!"
"You're so good at- um- shooting. People."
"How's it going?" She asks as she leans on a rusted mailbox.
It breaks and she falls over.
Just. Really bad.
You're likely aware that she fancies you before she even realizes. She's not good at hiding her expressions at all.
Not so subtly checking you out or admiring you whenever you just, exist, tbh
Despite it all, she won't make the first move to save her life. Tiptoeing on the line of what ifs and what isn't. You're going to have to take one for the team.
┊DATING:
She's actually a huge loser
Absolute girl failure
She's trying so hard though
Proximity is a must. If you're dating Lucy, you quickly become fundamental to her sense of peace.
At first it's a bit much, being in the wasteland kind of messes up her sense of boundaries a bit in a desperation to have you as much as possible.
You have to remind her flat out that it is not, in fact, the norm to follow your partner as they try to find a private place to pee.
She's a bit of a freak honestly.
SOMETHING is up with her but she's so much nicer and kinder than anyone on the surface that you don't mind much.
Uses terms of endearment but sparingly, mostly in private.
You could wake up and look like a feral ghoul and she'd still look at you with a big smile like, "Hey Doll/Hun. Sleep well?"
Craves softness and physical affection but feels as though she cannot have it. Everyone is quick to tell her what kind of person she needs to be on the surface so she's hesitant to express her affections sometimes.
But the more you show her that your touch is not meant to harm, but to love, she'll reciprocate.
Pretty touchy, subtle mostly, a hand on your back, a hand rubbing your arm, tracing your palm with her thumb.
When you two first started dating she very shyly asked if she could place her sleeping bag near yours, you could only laugh.
Whenever she scavenges food (or anything even slightly digestible) she's always offering it to you first.
Sometimes she just craves a really good make-out. She's good at repressing whatever bullshit the wasteland throws at her but she's not about to say no to a make-out session.
Whenever she finds cool knick-knacks she gifts them to you. Pins, random comic books
"I found another Grognak book-! Oh, oh wait, no, no we've already read this one :/"
hats. Lots of hats. Neat hats.
"Well don't you look dapper?" She grins as she places a sun hat on your head.
Honestly depends on you a bit. Though she's aware of the fact the surface is dangerous, it's a different thing to have to experience it.
Tells you all about Vault 33 and what her childhood was like over campfire. You learn very quickly why she is the way she is.
She can be an easy person to sway so she honestly needs you as her rock, her bad cop if you will.
Most nights she'll only sleep if you sleep first, watching over you for a bit before indulging in rest.
Kinda just stares at you a whole lot, but she means well.
Will always be the first to elect to take care of you, and gets a bit possessive in that respect.
Almost completely tackled Maximus to the floor when you got hurt and raced to use whatever she had on hand. She does not care if it's the last Stimpak they have, she WILL do anything to make sure you're okay.
She cares for you so deeply, as you're likely her first ever love.
She falls first, and she falls hard.
Always fixes up your clothes before heading out or patting down your garments, It's a post-apocalyptic wasteland, no one cares about appearances, but you know that Lucy does it to retain a sense of normalcy for herself.
A little thing that she's good at is being persuasive, it's a subtle thing, but Lucy is acutely aware that sometimes batting her eyelashes or giving a pretty please can get her to where she needs or what she wants.
She most definitely uses it on you.
And uh.. NSFW headcanons?
SHE'S A FREAK!
AN ABSOLUTE FREAKZOID!!
That is all. c:
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folkwhoredoll · 26 days
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soothing touch - rafe cameron x fem!reader
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
synopsis: after a tiresome week, your boyfriend knows just how to help
word count: 2.1k
warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex, nipple play), soft bf!rafe
a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever say this enough but thank you for your support! however i might be inactive for the next days or weeks because easter break is over :< but i promise to keep writing whenever i can <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!
masterlist
+*:ꔫ:*﹤
“Baby, come lay with me.” You heard your boyfriend whine from the bed.
“Just a few more minutes, Rafey. I need to finish this essay, or I’ll lose my train of thought.” You replied without looking at him, eyes steady between your laptop screen and keyboard.
Rafe groaned, growing impatient after hearing you use the same excuse for the third time.
It had been over two hours since he laid on the bed and over two hours that you refused to join him. The past weeks have made you busy, considering you were a graduating student. There were deadlines here and there, you have experienced sleepless nights for the past few days, and coffee is probably the only liquid cursing through your veins.
Rafe knew it was coming and made sure to help in any way possible, but it doesn’t mean he was okay with it. He missed taking you out on dates and golfing sessions, but it has been almost a month since he was able to do so.
He came to your house a few hours ago and brought you snacks you felt incredibly grateful for. You welcomed and greeted him, then returned to your room to sit in front of your laptop.
“I’m sorry, babe. I promise I’ll just finish this essay, and then we can cuddle, okay?” You offered to him softly, feeling bad that you’d ignored him.
Rafe, who has a stern exterior towards other people, is always soft towards you. His eyes softened upon hearing your offer, wanting nothing more than for you two to spend the night together.
“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”
You flashed him a smile, your fingers desperately working to finish your essay.
Around half an hour later, you were typing out the last sentence for your draft. You inhaled deeply and stretched your back before shutting down the computer, deciding that you would just do your revisions in the morning.
“Finally.” You heard Rafe’s voice, making you chuckle, and excitedly made your way to the bed where your boyfriend was adorably tucked in the covers. “Hi, baby.”
You crawled in his arms, feeling extremely relaxed now that you were out of your stiff chair. “Hi, Rafey.”
“What do you want to do now?” He asked you sweetly, letting you decide depending on how you were feeling.
You thought momentarily, looking at the time and realizing it was almost midnight. Yet, surprisingly, you didn’t feel an ounce of sleepiness.
“Hmm, I don’t know. I’m not sleepy yet. You?”
 “Nah. I’m not sleepy, too.” Rafe shook his head before an idea popped into his mind. “You want me to give you a massage?”
Without hesitation, you agreed, nodding your head quickly. “Yes, please. My back hurts so much.”
Rafe gave you a pitied look. “Aw, baby. I got you; go get ready.”
You positioned yourself on the bed, grabbing a pillow where you can rest your head on. You sat up for a while to remove the thin sweater that hugged your torso. Your bra followed after you skillfully removed the clasps on your back. The amount of times that Rafe had seen you naked has made you shameless in making such gestures in front of him.
Meanwhile, Rafe watched your actions as he positioned himself behind you, hungrily eyeing your bare back before reminding himself that he was supposed to help you relax.
“Lay down on your stomach, pretty girl.” He spoke.
You did as he asked, sighing relief when your front side made contact with your sheets.
Knowing your room like the back of his hand, Rafe grabbed a bottle of lavender oil from your bedside drawer. He squeezed out a small amount, only enough to cover your back. Once satisfied, he warmed up the oil by rubbing it between his palms before putting it on your skin.
You let out a soft moan at the contact; the minty feeling from the oil and the feeling of your boyfriend’s large hands on your back made you instantly relax.
Rafe continued to give you a massage until his hands were dry from the oil, giving your back continuous strokes while you were on the verge of sleeping.
Little do you know, your breathy sighs have awakened something in Rafe.
He cleared his throat after several minutes, leaning down to check if you were sleeping. After seeing your opened eyes, Rafe relaxed and gave you a smile. “You feeling better?”
You mumbled a ‘yes,’ groaning as you slowly turned around on your back. “Thank you, Rafe.”
Rafe replied nothing, instead just lowering his face to yours in order to press a kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, making Rafe go crazy. He wanted nothing more than to go further but hesitated as he thought of your tired body.
Unexpectedly, you were the one who deepened the kiss, your hands subtly moving up to his hair.
“Baby…” Rafe gasped, pulling away slightly. “Are you not tired?”
“Not really.” You said honestly as you looked into his eyes. “Feels good, Rafe. Please.”
Your words were confirmation for Rafe, making him press his lips back to yours. You let out a gasp when your boyfriend’s lips went from your mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin softly.
“Hey, no marks.” You reminded him, remembering the time that your parents almost fainted when they saw Rafe’s love marks on your neck and chest.
“Yes, ma’am.” He cheekily smiled.
Rafe’s attention was suddenly on your breasts. He already had easy access to them after you removed your top. You moaned in surprise when his lips wrapped around your left nipple, your back arching as you tried to catch your breath.
“Rafe.” You heaved when his mouth attached to your other nipple, his fingers now working simultaneously as he toyed with the other one. When he was satisfied with the attention that he gave to your breasts, he straightened up his posture, and you took the opportunity to start removing his shirt.
You quickly get rid of his shirt, throwing it sideways as you focus on his shorts.
“Someone’s excited.” He chuckled.
“It’s been a while.” You pouted.
“I know, sweetheart. We have a lot of time.” Rafe replied softly. He pecked your lips once before crouching down. “Lift your hips slightly, baby. Let me take this off of you.”
You obeyed, pushing yourself up from the bed to allow Rafe to pull down your shorts and underwear. You took a deep breath at the realization that you were fully exposed but paid no attention when you caught Rafe eyeing your pussy while licking his lips.
“Well, what do we have here?” He smirked, his right-hand landing gently on your thigh.
“Rafe…” You whined lowly, feeling frustrated as his fingers teased you by drawing random circles along your skin.
“What do you want, Y/n?” He asked innocently.
You groaned. “Stop teasing me.”
He smirked. Rafe loves nothing more than seeing you surrender to his touches. And right now, he’s enjoying the growing smell and wetness of your arousal.
Removing his hand from your thigh, he pressed a finger against your clit. You jolted forward; the pressure alone is enough to stimulate pleasure to your core. “Fuck.”
Rafe’s finger gently circled your clit, both his cock and smile becoming more prominent at the sight of you. He surprised you by pressing two fingers in, his thumb taking over your clit. He began pumping, enjoying your moans mixed with the sound of your wet folds.
“Fucking hell, Rafe. More.” You demanded through deep breaths, your chest rising and falling.
He didn’t respond, pulling out his fingers after a few moments. Your brows pinched together in confusion, looking at him as he brought his fingers to his mouth.
“You taste amazing, darling.” He smirked and watched as you stared at his lips. After licking his two fingers clean, he lifted his hands and brought his thumb to your face. “Open.”
Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and took his thumb in. You sucked, tasting yourself and letting out a moan while maintaining eye contact.
“Fuck.” Rafe spoke, feeling his cock straining. “I was planning to go soft on you. But you seem more eager than I do.”
After you’re done licking his finger, he pulls down his trousers and underwear. Despite seeing him naked multiple times, you still can’t help but be amazed at his size, your thoughts growing wild with desire.
You watched as Rafe kneeled before you, his eyes on the same level as your folds. He pulled you nearer to him, your lower half almost hanging off the edge of the table as he wrapped your legs around his shoulder.
“You gotta keep quiet, baby. We don’t want to get caught by your parents, do we?”
Without any warning, Rafe pressed his face to your pussy, his tongue expertly slipping inside and sucking on your clit.
“Fuck!” You moaned aloud, instantly forgetting his words as you pressed your weight against the bookshelf behind you.
He slapped your thigh softly. “What did I just say?”
You ignored him, too focused on the pleasure that you’re feeling to control the sounds from your mouth. You squirmed against his lips, grinding your hips upwards to get more. Your boyfriend smiled proudly.
“Yes, yes, Rafe…. Shit.”
He pulled one of his hands away from you, lowering it to pump his manhood. His occasional moans caused vibrations throughout your body, your toes curling and your eyes shutting.
Rafe felt your legs shake, and he started to pull away. He needed you to cum, but not yet.
“W-what?” You asked desperately, almost whining at the loss of contact.
He gently shushed you, pushing himself up and lining his cock directly at your slits. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll finish you right here.”
He pushed himself into you inch by inch, your warm folds wrapping around him perfectly. Rafe groaned at the damp and tight feeling surrounding him, head falling back in pleasure as he settled perfectly within you.
You moaned once more, loudly this time as he started thrusting, his rhythm steady yet forceful. You repeatedly called his name, hands gripping the sheets around you as you shook in pleasure. Rafe looked down to watch himself disappear inside you, eyes filled with lust and pride every time his hips meet yours. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs forward, almost keeping them against your chest.
“That’s right, darling. Moan my name.” Sweat started to form on his forehead, his thrusts becoming harsher and quicker in desperate need. “C’mon, Y/n. Let me see you cum.”
“Rafe…” You cried, your cunt clenching and throbbing. The bed was creaking slowly, and you could only hope that your parents were currently deep in slumber.
The pleasure was overwhelming as Rafe focused on every part of you as much as possible. Both of you panting and covered in sweat, his hands working wonders on your clit and nipple while he perfectly filled your cunt.
“R-Rafe, I’m…”
“I know, baby. Cum with me. Come on, pretty girl.” He whispered closely in your ear, maintaining the speed of his thrusts as he rubbed your clit faster.
Your heart rate was increasing, and your body was shaking. But it was Rafe’s direct eye contact and sudden pinch on your clit that pushed you over the edge, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you released.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Rafe moaned at the sight, loving the feeling of your tight walls and warm release around his cock.
It wasn’t long until he pumped several more times before he gave in, releasing his juices inside of you with heavy breaths.
Neither of you moved for a while, still breathless and shaking.
Rafe pulled out of you slowly, making you whine. He cooed at you, pressing kisses on both of your cheeks. “Are you feeling better, baby?”
Unable to form words because you were still catching your breath, you just grinned and nodded, your hand rising to cup and stroke his cheek.
“Let’s get you ready for bed now, sweetheart.”
The rest of the night, you didn’t break any sweat. Rafe took charge of changing your clothes and sheets, even giving you a quick bath to refresh you.
On times like these, you thank the heavens for giving you a boyfriend like Rafe Cameron.
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bowtiepastabitch · 5 months
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Historical Analysis: class and injustice in 'The Ressurrectionists' minisode
Alternate title: why we're tempted to be upset with Aziraphale and why that's only halfway fair
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Okay so first off huge thanks to @makewayforbigcrossducks for asking the question (and follow-up questions lol) that brought me to put these thoughts all together into a little history nerd ramble. That question being, Why is Aziraphale so clueless? Obviously, from a plot perspective, we know we need to learn some lessons about human moral dilemmas and injustices. But from a character perspective? A lot of this minisode is about Aziraphale being forced to confront the flaws of heavenly logic. This whole idea that "poverty is ineffable" basically boils down to 'yeah some people are poor, but their souls can be saved just as if not more easily that way, so it's not our problem and they probably deserve it anyway for not working hard enough,' a perspective that persists in many modern religious circles. Aziraphale isn't looking at the human factor here, he's pretty much purely concerned about the dichotomy of good and wicked human behavior and the spiritual consequences thereof, because that's what he's been told to believe. His whole goal is to "show her the error of her ways." He believes, quite wholeheartedly, that he's helping her in the long run.
"the lower you start, the more opportunities you have"
So here's what we're asking ourselves: Why did it take him so bloody long to realize how stupid that is? Sure, he's willing to excuse all kinds of things in the name of ineffability, but if someone in the year of our lord 2023 told me he was just now realizing that homelessness was bad after experiencing the past two centuries, I'd be resisting the urge to get violent even if he WAS played by Michael Sheen.
Historical context: a new type of poverty
Prior to the 19th century (1800s), poverty was a very different animal from what we deal with now. The lowest classes went through a dynamic change leading up to the industrial revolution, with proto-industrialization already moving people into more manufacture-focused tasks and rapid urbanization as a result of increasingly unlivable conditions for rural peasantry. The enclosure of common lands and tennancies by wealthy landowners for the more profitable sheep raising displaced lots of families, and in combination with poor harvests and rising rents, many people were driven to cities to seek out new ways of eeking out a living.
Before this, your ability to eat largely would have depended on the harvest in your local area. This can, for our purposes, be read as: you're really only a miracle away from being able to survive the winter. Juxtapose this, then, with the relatively new conundrum of an unhoused urban poor population. Now if you want to eat, you need money itself, no exceptions, unless you want to steal food. Charity at the time was often just as much harm as good, nearly always tied deeply up in religious attitudes and a stronger desire to proselytize than improve quality of lie. As a young woman, finding work in a city is going to be incredibly difficult, especially if you're not clean and proper enough to present as a housemaid or other service laborer. As such, Elspeth turns to body snatching to try to make a better life for herself and Wee Morag. She's out of options and she knows it.
You know who doesn't know that? Aziraphale.
The rise of capitalism
The biggest piece of the puzzle which Aziraphale is missing here is that he hasn't quite caught onto the concept of capitalism yet. To him, human professions are just silly little tasks, and she should be able to support herself if she just tried. Bookselling, weaving, farming, these are all just things humans do, in his mind. He suggests these things as options because it hasn't occurred to him yet that Elspeth is doing this out of desperation, but he also just doesn't grasp the concept of capital. Crowley does, he thinks it's hilarious, but Aziraphale is just confused as to why these occupations aren't genuine options. Farming in particular, as briefly touched on above, was formerly carried out largely on common land, tennancies, or on family plots, and land-as-capital is an emerging concept in this period of time (previously, landowners acted more like local lords than modern landlords). Aziraphale just isn't picking up on the fact that money itself is the root issue.
Even when he realizes that he fucked up by soup-ifying the corpse, he doesn't offer to give them money but rather to help dig up another body. He still isn't processing the systemic issues at play (poverty) merely what's been immediately presented to him (corpses), and this is, from my perspective, half a result of his tunnel-vision on morality and half of his inability to process this new mode of human suffering.
Half a conclusion and other thoughts
So we bring ourselves back around to the question of Aziraphale's cluelessness. Aziraphale is, as an individual, consistently behind on the times. He likes doing things a certain way and rarely changes his methodology unless someone forces his hand. Even with the best intentions, his ability to help in this minisode is hindered by two points: 1)his continued adherance to heavenly dogma 2)his inability to process the changing nature of human society. His strongest desire at any point is to ensure that good is carried out, an objective good as defined by heavenly values, and while I think it's one of his biggest character hangups, I also can't totally blame him for clinging to the only identity given to him or for worrying about something that is, as an ethereal being, a very real concern. Unfortunately, he also lacks an understanding of the actual human needs that present themselves. Where Elspeth knows that what she needs is money, Aziraphale doesn't seem to process that money is the only solution to the immediate problem. This is in part probably because a century prior the needs of the poor were much simpler, and thus miraculous assistance would never have interfered with 'the virtues of poverty'. (You can make someone's crops grow, and they'll eat well, but giving someone money actually changes their economic status.) Thus, his actions in this episode illustrate the intersection of heavenly guidelines with a weak understanding of modern structures.
This especially makes sense with his response to being told to give her money. Our angel is many things, but I would never peg him as having any attachment to his money. He's not hesitant because he doesn't want to part with it, he's hesitant because he's still scared it's the wrong thing to do in this scenario. He really is trying to be good and helpful. So yes, we're justifiably pretty miffed to see him so blatantly unaware and damaging. He definitely holds a lot of responsibility for the genuine tragedy of this minisode, and I think Crowley pointing out that it's 'different when you knew them' is an extremely important moment for Aziraphale's relationship with humanity. Up until now, he's done a pretty good job insulating himself from the capacity of humans for nastiness, his seeming naivity at the Bastille being case in point.
In the end, I think Aziraphale's role in this minisode is incredibly complex, especially within its historical context. He's obstinate and clueless but also deeply concerned with spiritual wellbeing (which is, to Aziraphale, simply wellbeing) and doing the right thing to be helpful. While it's easy to allow tiny Crowley (my beloved) to eclipse the tragic nature and moral complexity of this minisode, I think in the end it's just as important to long-term character development as 'A Companion to Owls'. We saw him make the right choice with Job's children, and now we see him make the wrong choice. And that's a thing people do sometimes, a thing humans do.
~~~
also tagging @ineffabildaddy, @kimberellaroo, and @raining-stars-somewhere-else whose comments on the original post were invaluable in helping me organize my thoughts and feelings about this topic. They also provided great insight that, in my opinion, is worth going and reading for yourself, even if it didn't factor into my final analysis/judgement.
If I missed anything or you have additional thoughts, please please share!!! <3
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celestialtarot11 · 5 months
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🪬 Astro Aspects 🌀
🌙 Moon- saturn aspects relate to the phrase “I’m resilient because i had no choice”
Additionally, moon saturn aspects can indicate an emotionally cold mother figure, or being physically absent at some point in their lives. Moon represents the mother, so it’s important to look at that placement. It can also indicate divorce or separation in the parents.
Moon conjunct pluto 🤝 moon saturn aspects
Sun touching north node has the ability to get famous or widely known in a community! Until the native is aware of their skill set & strengths, and finds practical use, the native may choose jobs that don’t fulfill them. Depending on the severity of the aspect, the native will find criticism in their jobs, or find it hard to climb up the ladder (squares especially) But when the native finds exactly what they’re good at, the native lives a happy life in terms of money & career ✈️💨
Venus-pluto and wanting to know everything about a person. You want to devour them with your eyes, and touch every part of their mind. When the native is awakened to the power of their presence & how intelligent they are, the native radiates an impactful energy. Those around them can feel the intensity, especially when they are one on one, it’s felt even more. Maneater energy 💅🏻
Venus opposite pluto has the ability to either bring necessary destructive change in their partnerships, but also rebuild and provide solid structure. This energy is neither bad or good. It can go anywhere, hence the void state. These natives are constantly creating in their relationships. Beautiful 🌀
Neptune aspecting the ascendant creates such a mystifying aura. People like to gossip about these natives, and people constantly wonder about who and what these natives are doing all of the times. These natives attract attention just like that, and can manifest easily. These natives are also prone to addiction and getting high to cope.
Neptune aspecting Venus does not know limits in love. Very similar to a pisces venus/scorpio venus. This native wants to go deep all the way, and can also embody scorpionic energy. These natives will love deeply even if it’s unhealthy, and will stay in unhealthy situations. Their commitment is real, and loyalty unmatched 💅🏻 But it can cause a detriment to their health.
Sun sesiquadrate pluto also carry an intense aura. Although this aspect is seen as minor, it still affects the native. Transformation through ego is big, and necessary. Native constantly finds themself in this lifetime 🌙✨
Sun trine pluto creates a resilient individual. An individual who goes through intense circumstances, one after the next. There’s always a shift challenging the individual to empower themselves. When meeting this person, even if they are a libra rising, you will feel their power radiating from within. Or they display that. Even if the native is sweet and kind, there is always an underlying powerful energy.
Mars trine pluto have insane ambition. Especially if mars is in the 6th house. Absolute powerhouse of the cell 🤣 they ARE the mitochondria. Mars trine pluto smile and laugh, and say “try me again, I dare you.” Once this native is awakened to their power, its game over. Even more powerful when this native finds themselves embracing change and inner conflict. It provides them peace to constantly do shadow work. These natives do not like their shadows running the show 🤡
Sun aspecting neptune, ya’ll are powerful spiritual channelers. Ya’ll tap into spirit like no tomorrow and receive visions, dreams of the future and get intuitive gut feelings. All of it. But also have the ability to attach ego to this ability and become prideful of spiritual nature.
Book a reading with me here 🤍
Thank ya’ll so much for reading this 🤍✨ enjoy and feel free to comment reblog or like! Id love to hear feedback 💗
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starsworldd · 8 months
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𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚙𝚝. 2 <3 💥
only take what resonates / take with a grain of salt
a friendly reminder that i do readings! 💕
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𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜: 🌷
★ venus going through your 2nd and 6th houses makes you more of a hermit i’ve noticed because in these houses you are focused on your true values and work (most likely related to your goals) 🌷
★ venus transitting your 12th house (depending on dignity and aspects it’ll make) can be a really peaceful time in your life. you may be able to find more beauty in the underrated moments of life 🌷
★ venus transiting the 1st or 5th house may make life more enjoyable for that time period (even if venus is in detriment/fall) 🌷
𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜: 🔥
★ wherever mars is retrograding in your chart shows where there’s a “stand still” like that part of your life may feel like it’s not progressing as it usually would
★ mars transitting the 4th house makes you a homebody for that time period 🔥
★ mars aspecting pluto in a positive way makes for a productive time (getting that to-do list done type stuff) in my experience 🔥
𝚓𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜: ☘️
★ jupiter making a sextile/trine to your natal midheaven means that you are building opportunities and a reputation for yourself in the public eye, especially for future circumstances. sextile = the work your putting in is fortunate, trine = lucky circumstances make career more fortunate ☘️
★ jupiter in hard aspects to natal neptune can show a time where you’re putting people or things on a pedastal to your detriment. can also mean during a certain time period where your subconscious beliefs can lead you to bad places ☘️
★ jupiter making any aspects to your natal jupiter is like a new “season” of your life beginning ☘️
𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜: 🌎
★ whatever house saturn is transitting that area of life becomes highlighted for 2-3 years. highlighted in the sense that you are trying to climb over obstacles, gain achievements, and learn more deeply about said sector of life 🌎
★ saturn aspecting your sun or moon can point to an energetic low, maybe you’re more isolated as well 🌎
★ saturn aspecting venus (specifically conjunction) is actually a pretty fortunate transit in my opinion. work/goals + aesthetic/creativity combined <3 🌎
𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜: ⚡️
★ uranus aspecting venus makes you rebellious in all relationships, you may find you want to break out of your regular circles more often ⚡️
★ uranus aspecting jupiter can be an especially chaotic time in your life (but most likely in a positive way?) ⚡️
★ uranus transitting air houses (3,7,11) indicates social instability especially 7th with agreements or making business/career related plans ⚡️
𝚗𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜: 💜
★ the house that neptune is transitting can show where things feel out of reach for you 💜
★ neptune in aspect to mercury broadens your thinking. not in a physical way but it can help you to expand your wisdom/spiritual knowledge 💜
★ difficult neptune-sun aspects can make you less self-aware i think, maybe take a little precaution as to how you are portraying yourself in public settings!
𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜: 💣
★ pluto transitting the 7th house can show being drained from your relationships with others or somehow feeling used 💣
★ pluto in positive aspects to jupiter shows what activities you are doing (indicated by the house of jupiter) you are engaging with in order to help yourself grow/sustain yourself past your troubles 💣
★ pluto-mars aspects indicates confidence and ability to lead but also be careful of being domineering amongst others! 💣
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hope you enjoyed!
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The Arcana HCs: How M6 act when they're sleep deprived
Julian
What do you mean? This is his permanent state of functioning, MC, he wouldn't know who he was if he wasn't exhausted
Now give him back his coffee. He wasn't done with that
Julian's version of properly sleep deprived is akin to a normal person's version of "so close to dead they've never felt more alive"
You'll only know he's at the true edge of his exhaustion when his eyebrows reach a new height of bushiness and his pupils dilate to two tiny pinpricks of black in a sea of shaky grey
His normal eye will be so bloodshot that you'll have a hard time telling which one needs an eyepatch over it
Be prepared for the theatre kid plague doctor version of zoomies
Were you hoping to read your book quietly? Not anymore!! Allow him to spice up your story by assigning different voices to your beloved characters and loudly reading them from atop the table
Better yet, watch him vault from the table to the windowsill as he demonstrates the dashing hero's getaway!
The plot takes a turn as the book goes flying into the sink and he continues undaunted, improvising a three person fight scene with the lid off your soup pot and the fire poker
This ends when you either guilt him into bed or he crashes mid-sentence
Asra
To say that they don't take well to being sleep-deprived is an understatement. They exist in a constant state of "just rolled out of bed and will happily roll back in." Life revolves around sleeping in
He can lose an hour or two of sleep here and there. It's not even super unusual for him to accidentally stay up into the wee hours of the morning because he got stuck in a curiosity spiral
But they usually make up for it with cat naps through the next day. When that proves impossible, though -
There's no nice way to put it. He's grumpy. Irritable. His tendency to make sarcastic, cutting comments about things he doesn't like increases tenfold
Their hair gets frizzy, the annoyed wrinkles around their eyes could rival an elephant's, and their usual easygoing expression is replaced with a scowl so deeply disgusted by existence that it rivals Muriel's
He doesn't yell or snap - no, he just stumbles through the shop with his hair in his eyes and a random object in his hand (is that a half finished rendering of the Palace carved on a banana peel?)
Be prepared for them to mumble out all kinds of hilarious swear combinations as they give you their real opinion on yesterday's finnicky shop patron. They'll read her outfit to filth
Nadia
She just gets stressed and depressed
And depending on how bad the deprivation is, slightly panicked
First she gets stuck asleep for literal years. Then after waking up she can't sleep enough, thanks to headaches and nightmares. She's just so done with the discomfort of it all
She also associates you with being able to sleep in a way that is safe and restful, so you're about to become a personal stuffie
If you complain, she'll immediately apologize and leave you to go about your day. Otherwise she doesn't realize what she's doing
You're coming with her. Everywhere
She's either got your arm looped through hers, her hand holding yours, or (depending on your height) your shoulders tucked firmly into her side while she runs her fingers through your hair
She will instinctively tighten her grip on you if you squirm
If she gets too lost in thought while she tries to get her tasks out of the way, she will bodily pick you up and carry you from room to room like an animate teddy bear. You are her comfort item now
Forgets to verbalize her thoughts. The plan is so clear inside her head, no need to pause to enact it
Which is how you ended up plopped on a horse with 0 explanation
Muriel
Oh dear
His anxiety skyrockets. Sleep is his coping mechanism for an ugly world. Sleep is an escape. And now sleep is ... unavailable???
His personality slowly shifts. Is he still grumpy? Yes, but faster now. Without access to the thing that helps him feel safe, he's full of anxious energy to the point of becoming frantic
Starts obsessively doing everything he can so that sleep is possible again. Is there a lot to get done? move out of the way.
Is it insomnia? He's trying everything from filling the hut with myrrh to making an uncharacteristic march into town so he can raid the shop for remedies while Asra looks on, jaw on the floor
He'll do anything, just let him sleep
Absolutely refuses to have anything to do with alcohol to make him drowsy, though. The same goes for any type of strong sleeping enchantments, medicines, or potions
He wants to maintain control over his body
It was a strange experience to come back after a day out to find the entire hut rearranged, with a borderline manic Muriel pacing the floor and muttering to himself about "something soothing"
Apparently that was you, by the way, you were all he needed. He took one look at you, heaved a sigh of relief, and then dozed off to the sound of you puttering around
Portia
For someone who's usually so cheery and on top of things, she gets really mellow and spacey - almost childlike
You will have to repeat yourself up to five times before she's able to process your question and tell you that she moved your shoes to the closet because she needed to sweep earlier
Slow frog blinks, first one eye, and then the other
Keeps putting stuff down where it's not supposed to go and then completely forgetting about them
Why is there a wet bar of soap on her pillow. Why is there a teacup half-buried in the garden. Why is Pepi covered in flour
If the reason for her sleep deprivation is overwork, there's no chance of her getting anything more done until she's had a full eight hours of rest. She physically cannot focus enough
If the reason is just insomnia, she just gets sad. One glance at Pepi curled up into a cute little roll and snoozing in a sunbeam will lead to silent tears pouring down her cheeks and quiet sniffles
Gets so so sweet - she already is, of course, but to a whole new degree. If you bring her a cup of soothing herbal tea, she'll look at you like you're a fairy and whisper "thank you" while she cradles it
A good backrub is usually all she needs to conk out
Lucio
He values his beauty sleep and he is not happy when he doesn't get it. Do you know what it takes to maintain skin like his??
Loud and cranky but refuses to acknowledge why
He wouldn't feel this lousy just from not getting enough sleep! What are you talking about? This is clearly some kind of foul magic or sickness at work - check his temperature! Is that a fever??
He doesn't need sleep, he needs answers. Who's fault is this? Who does he need to beat up? Leave him alone!
Wait no no no he didn't mean that, don't leave him alone, MC please, he loves you, don't go (note: you haven't moved)
He knows what he needs to do. He needs to hunt down whoever or whatever is causing this misery and force them to put an end to it
It must be some kind of curse. Loud noises hurt his ears, the sun is too bright, his eyes are tired and itchy, his brain is full of fog, his whole body feels slow and heavy, this isn't right!
Maybe this is actually his cue to throw a party - no? Yeah okay, he wasn't really feeling up for one anyways
Which is clearly another symptom of the curse! MC, help him!
You'll have to change tactics and tell him that you'll only be able to help him kill the curse if he falls asleep so you can see his dreams
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fiapartridge · 2 months
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hii 💌 with macklin celebrini and his celebrity crush! reader ?? teehee 🤭🤭
macklin celebrini x hughes!sister
summary: when a video on the bu hockey instagram blows up, you finally match the name to the most perfect face.
fia's notes: i love mack so much. he's my fave bu boy 💌 also! happy valentine's day! 💌⭐️🍓 OH! and i made this a hughes!sister because...i wanted to... enjoy!!! <3333
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Who is your celebrity crush? the whiteboard read as the boys piled off the ice and down the hall towards the locker room. Monday questions were the guys’ favorite or least favorite day depending on which guy you were asking. 
Case bounded off the ice, catching the question in the corner of his eye. “Mm, Margot Robbie. One hundred percent,” he pointed at the camera, winking. 
Lane Hutson was next as he stumbled down the hall, smiling once he saw the board. He hummed, standing in front of the question as he thought deeply about his answer. “Can I have multiple answers? Yes? Okay, um, I like Meghan Fox sometimes, Alex Morgan is pretty cool, Livvy Dunne definitely, Taylor Swift is a favorite, maybe Ariana Grande but she’s been iffy lately—”
Pushing him off camera, Doug laughed as he read the board. “Jesus, Lane. How many crushes do you have?”
“Hey! There’s a lot of beautiful women out there,” he smiled at the camera as Doug made a gagging noise in the background.
“Aiden!” Doug called for the boy as Aiden laid his stick on the wall and threw his hands to his hips. 
“Huh?” he replied.
“Celebrity crush, go.”
Aiden chuckled before shaking his head and pointing to Macklin who was trailing behind him, oblivious to the question. “Why don't we ask Mack over here,” he beamed, grabbing his brother’s shoulders and throwing him in front of the camera. “Macky definitely has someone in mind, don’t you Mack?”
Macklin would have punched his brother square in the face if he hadn’t been standing directly in front of the camera. A light tinge of pink dusted the boy’s features as Aiden teased him for his sudden shyness.
“C’mon Mack, maybe she’ll see it!”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of,” Macklin laughed awkwardly as he raked his hand through his hair.
“Yeah, well, if you don’t say it, somebody else will.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he pointed as Aiden grinned at the camera.
“Macky’s in love with Y/N Hughes!” he shouted before Macklin shoved him off camera, the video cutting off as you gaped at your screen. 
The video was being sent to you by everyone you knew and every single person you didn’t know, too.  Your entire feed was flooded with the boy’s reddened cheeks and awkward smile. The first few times of watching it, you felt bad that the boy was getting blasted on social media for liking you, but after a couple more rounds of watching, you went down a Macklin Celebrini rabbit hole. Your search engine was consumed with his interviews and game highlights. You researched his stats, age, birthplace, which school he was currently attending, everything. 
And it didn’t hurt that he was hot and your age. I mean, you weren’t new to the hockey scene being that you grew up in a house full of stars: your dad was an assistant coach for the Boston Bruins, your mom played for the US National Team at the Women’s World Championship, your brother was the captain of the Canucks, and your remaining brothers were playing on the same team in the NHL, breaking records and setting new ones. Your entire life was hockey even though you had nothing to do with the sport in the slightest. No, you were more of a figure skater—an Olympic gold figure skater, to be exact. You were on the ice in a different, less violent way. But you still supported your family and all of their endeavors, and gratefully, they supported yours, too.
So Macklin wasn’t a total stranger. You had heard talks of the projected #1 first pick at the 2024 NHL draft, but you never cared enough to match the face to the name. It’s funny that this is how you found out—sitting on your living room couch surrounded by your protective older brothers who knew his stats like the back of their hand. And they all held a bit of resentment for him.
“He was on Team Canada,” Jack scoffed. “You should not be associating with him.”
“So was Mercer!” you retorted. “And he’s still one of your best friends!”
“He’s also my teammate, Y/N/N. I can’t really not like the guy.”
You rolled your eyes, turning to the oldest who sat on the other side of you. “Quinny?”
He shrugged. “He’s a good kid, good stats, from Vancouver so you already know he’s a Canucks fan,” he smirked. “Let it go, Jack.”
Jack turned towards Luke who sat on the coffee table directly in front of you as he held your laptop on his lap, rewatching the video. “Luke? Thoughts?”
Luke looked up, watching as the three of them stared right back at him. “He’s in college, so at least you know he’s getting an education.”
Jack chuckled. “You were in college and you still have the brain of a monkey.”
Luke stood up, throwing the laptop on the couch as you and Quinn gave each other knowing looks. “And if you went to college, you would know that monkeys are actually really smart!”
You rolled your eyes, huffing as they burned glares into each other’s souls. “Can you guys just shut up!” you shouted. “I’m going to DM him and then I am going to never ask for your guys’ opinions ever again,” you smiled, standing up from the couch and walking towards your bedroom.
“I still don’t like him!” Jack yelled from the living room.
You groaned, not even making a move to turn around and talk to him. You simply shouted from the stairs, “I don’t care!” 
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You started a conversation with "Macklin Celebrini"!
You: Hii!
Macklin: You saw it, didn’t you?
You: What gave it away?
Macklin: The fact that you probably didn’t know I existed until that video came out.
You: Okayy, true. BUT I enjoyed it!
Macklin: Which part? The part where I was trying not to kill my brother, or the part that became a meme of my face getting so red everyone put tomatoes all over my Instagram comments?
You: Both? To be fair, I thought your blushing was cute.
Macklin: You’re kidding.
You: Not in the slightest. :) So, when are you in Michigan next? Heard there was this super fun lake house there in the summer.
Macklin: I can’t believe this is happening.
You: You would think you would be a bit more enthusiastic.
Macklin: Believe me, my face is crazier than in the video right now, and that’s saying something.
You: I believe it. And actually, that’s just all of my burner accounts commenting on your post.
Macklin: Knew something was suspicious.
You: Oh, definitely. Also…
Macklin: Bad news? I knew this was going too well.
You: No. Just thank your brother for me.
Macklin: For what?
You: For leading me to you.
Macklin: Oh, God, I’ve gone full-on tomato.
You: 🍅🍅🍅🍅🍅!
Macklin: IT WAS YOU
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thechekhov · 3 months
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Since you've covered a pretty big bit of the manga so far, can I ask what are your opinions on it? Deeper than just the quick reactions you've shared with us so far.
What are your opinions about the manga's characters? Its pacing? The mystery element? The magic system? What areas do you think it succeeds, and what areas do you think could be better?
I understand if you're reversing judgment until you finish, but you've also read quite a bit of the story so far. Idk, I'm just curious!
Especially seeing as you're a writer yourself, so I imagine you have a different perspective on how the story functions as, well, a story!
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Oh, hmmm... that's an interesting question.
As of right now I'm on chapter 35-36 so I'm about a third through the story. The first major arc (find dragon, yoink falin out of its body, etc) has kinda happened, and we're hitting some larger world arcs.
As you mentioned, I DO want to withold judgement but for now... But I will say what I think thus far, with full awareness that my mind might be changed later depending on circumstances.
Comment 1: The manga is finished! Actually, just knowing that makes me feel like it's a more cohesive storyline.
Maybe I'm boring, but I'm not a huge fan of neverending storylines in general. Naruto, Bleach, etc. They have their place in the forever-young-monster-of-the-week genre, and I know why so many manga just keep... on... publishing....... but I feel like there's a lot of merit to being able to just wrap up a story and say 'there, that's how it ends'.
Comment 2: Laios is very well developed, even at this point of the story. Senshi remains a mystery. Marcille... speedran her arc?
I think this is the closest thing I have to a criticism. While I think Laios' character is well-paced in its revelations throughout the series (the slow ramp-up from 'oh this guy is weird' to 'oh, this guy is a freak club card carrying member' to 'oh, this guy is the freak club president' was great!) Marcille is.... a little more of a mystery to me.
Now, perhaps my memory is bad. But I did find her turnaround at the end of the Red Dragon arc a bit... out of the blue?
Don't get me wrong. I think it's entirely believable. But I wish there had been more hints - or rather, more visible progress of her studies of ancient magic. I know it's been mentioned, and there WAS that chapter of her and Falin during their school years... but watching episode 2 of the show on netflix when she goes 'I feel useless, my magic doesn't help anyone :(' and then reading the manga and seeing her straight up go from 0 to 100 as she decides "we're gonna rearrange falin's bones and then I'mma raise her using this ancient technique I've been studying all along that I didn't tell you about because it was sus" is... a little bit of a turn?
Maybe it's on purpose! Maybe, when I read further about her personal journey, the pieces will fall into place more neatly. But compared to the rest of the characters, which seem relatively steady in their reveals (Laios, Chillchuck, Senshi) Marcille took a bit of a turn.
Which, again, isn't bad! It just seems contrasted to the rest of the team.
Comment 3: The magic system is more like a magic ecology.
Actually, in the beginning, I found the magic system Marcille used very vague. It was just a 'do what needs to be done' type of power with very few apparent limits or power balances aside from 'sometimes you run out of mana'. But I think at this point, I'm beginning to assume that the details of the magic are closer to the functions of an ecosystem or an organism, and therefore WHAT the magic does is kind of moot point. Marcille is just a little bacteria inside of the great intestine labyrinth of the dungeon, and she is using its energy to survive, like a sort of microfauna.
Comment 4: Man, the worldbuilding is cool. It's so cool.
I don't think I've seen another story that goes so deeply into dungeon ecosystems before this one. Not only are the people who live there fleshed out in terms of individual cultures and traditions and norms, there are also monsters that serve as a natural fauna that inhabits the halls of what OUGHT to be a mindless 'turn left and fall into a trap' setting!
There's sticking monsters into your world, and then there's 'digging out a trench 1 meter deep, pre-soaking the soil, inserting monster's roots lovingly into the spot, and then covering it with fertilizer and spritzing the leaves'. I don't doubt that there ARE other works that go into this level of detail, but the dedication and the ideas Kui-san has for this very much makes the dungeon a living part of this entire tale. :)
I'll probably have more to say later but for now.. that's about it!
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spiderpussinc · 9 months
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are the 2099 comics THAT bad in terms of racism plus other weird writing choices??? i'm starved for miguel content and would like to read the original comic run but i keep seeing the debate of the original comics being problematic and/or downright just BAD bad (not to mention miguel is supposed to have mexican heritage but he's straight up a white redhead lol)
Some people may disagree but speaking as a latinx writer; it's bad because it is racist, yes! On multiple fronts!! And beyond that, it's also bad as a complete failure of comics structure and compelling narrative.
Longpost, on readmore;
I say this as a long-time capeshit reader, as politely as possible: Miguel's comics are a *paycheck* book. As in; a series a writer does monthly to be paid for it, but with middling aspirations and downright negative characterization depending on where their mood is.
The first few issues of his 1992 run are relatively complete and well-balanced, may even trick you into thinking this story is going somewhere; but that's only because they're the /character pitch./ Ill skip to the end and tell you upfront. That 1992 series ends with the implosion of the whole "2099" line of comics (an universe that included other books, like ghost rider, doom, etc, by other writers) due to dwindling public interest and mass cancellations. The end of that run is basically meaningless, since the whole thing got retconned - and even before that a guest writer had came in and made mistaken character reveals pdavid wasnt happy with and wanted to erase before the finale. The event book that wrapped up that universe was unironically, literally called -- "2099: Manifest Destiny."
Now, I don't like Peter David's writing. I think he's obsessed with the idea of building harems out of his female characters (when he's not fridging them, or making them act ~crazy~ to further alienate them from the protagonist) and it is the kind of grueling, joyless reading experience I can only describe as making you feel Oily Inside. This goes as far as multiple stalking plotlines, the inclusion of a guest appearance from AU s/x slaver Hulk in later years, Miguel's mother being strongly implied to have been forced into conceiving him by his real dad who's the evil CEO of alchemax, general torture painporn. His broader supporting cast is so interchangeable and disposable that they were literally disposed of.
In terms of the racism; I have mentioned how he uses cultures as tokens and does 0 research whatsoever. The way it feels and the way it is deployed is through a lens of Exoticism - tourism. Miguels suit is allegedly "a dia de los muertos costume" b/c pdavid seems to think that holiday is mexican halloween. In the orig book, you'll see plenty of broken japanese and stereotypical orientalist caricatures - after killing his first love interest, pdavid introduces a japanese girl who is unironically, literally named "Xina" (that pretends to be chinese on occasion) to fill in the vacant role. Miguel himself falls right into all the usual latino stereotypes — short tempered, drug addict, sex magnet "latin lover" (this last one also applied to his brother Gabriel, who for the longest time is characterized by just Going Through A Lot Of Girlfriends). And it's kind of insane bc he's still being drawn as a deeply deeply white man, but not even that takes off the burden of the racial microagressions!!! They're the only times pdavid seems to remember that heritage! Then there's the commemorative hanging page. Since you mention the redheadedness; thats another insane thing to me. He has 0% of irish in him. His dad is Blond. Who is this man?
Most of the info in the 2099 run is either revealed to be a lie midway thru (miguel is not mr o'hara's son, nor addicted to rapture) or completely retconned away to be rewritten in new runs. Different writers have tried to come in and do miguel in other team/event books but frankly nothing stands out and most of them get marked as alternate-miguels. Unfortunately, every time marvel decided to give another shot at spider-man 2099 they also brought pdavid back. The newer books were never a success, and theyre just as filled w/ the garbage i mentioned earlier (wow! Steampunk spider-woman is given to pdavid for *ONE* issue and instantly tonguekisses gabriel before leaving, so novel. More fridging ensues. Stalking. Etc.) 2099 as an *universe* has been retconned so many times Nothing is consistent and Nothing is set on stone and frankly i think they should make it an AU separate from main canon and build a whole new world already.
The art in the 2015 + runs consists mostly of tracing, and more of that oily weird feeling applied to fem chars. Perhaps you have noticed in this entire hate review have never once spoken about Miguel's heroic plots and memorable villains --- he has none. At least nothing I can remember or distinguish. (Interchangeable, disposable, etc) There is a vague inkling of "this is an anti-stabilishment spiderman, he fights against The Public Eye, the Corporation Cops!" at the start but much like his cultural illiteracy pdavid has no real insightful politics commentary, so that dissolves into the background in time. Its all buzzwords. All of his plotlines are solved in circuitous or soap operaish extradrama ways; and while some of this is present in other superhero comics, what stands out to me MOST is how utterly fucking joyless Miguel's comics are. It's like going through a slog on obligation. They genuinely gave me a headache every time.
ATSV does a great job of reinventing Miguel and rebuilding the parts of him that showed real promise. Being a different tone-swapped spiderman, futuristic, being more on the tech-science side of crime fighting. Him being a single dad with a daughter is also new. (And he is single! There is no singular mention of marriage or a wife anywhere, he's a geneticist, multiple spider-men we see in this movie were literal clones made in tubes - i am fond of the idea he's a transmasc dad but even if you think he's cis he could have made that baby himself. Adoption is also always there.) I think its very clear ATSV didn't want to bring any of pdavids major weird shit w fem chars to the big screen on the hopes that miguel gets rebooted eventually. I think he's gay. Nobody can prove me wrong.
On that note, Steve Orlando (queer writer, also wrote for DC's midnighter/apollo) did some of the latest 2022/2023 Miguel miniseries. Another reboot! Those were "2099: Exodus" and "Spider-man 2099: Dark Genesis" - i think its campier/trying to tackle superhero plots more head on and trying to do something wide wacky cast focused at Marvel's personal request, but Miguel's future is very up in the air rn. I do really hope they reboot him into something closer to ATSV with latines at the center soon.
What I always reccomend for people curious abt miguel: read his first 3ish 1992 issues, get a general feel and close the book as soon as you feel annoyed. It won't get better. Remember none of it is canon nor has been relevant in over two decades. If you want to know the wider context of his messy chronology, check out some of the 2099 "all comics" type of youtube videos, theres some pretty easy to digest summarizations if u dont wanna waste ur time reading stuff that just got retconned again lol. Most writers now are operating on vibes and that is a freedom you should also allow yourself in your own fanwork.
Putting his panels out of context can be very funny though. (For further curiosity or tangents, there's always my meta tag)
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bakuhatsufallinlove · 6 months
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re: 405
This is gonna be long.
First, I'm bringing this post back around to remind people that kocchi is a pronoun of ambiguous plurality.
This means that an interpretation of "we" is just as correct as an interpretation of "I." Readers may interpret it differently, but on simply linguistic grounds, they are of equal validity.
You will often see this kind of ambiguous language used in Japanese, even with characters that are forthright. The reason is one part cultural expectation that the listener will read between the lines, and one part a willingness to accept two things as simultaneously true. This exists and is frequently found in English as well, there just isn't a direct parallel for kocchi itself.
What I want most out of writing this blog, aside from personal enjoyment, is for people to understand that there can be more to a story for you to engage with, think about, and be moved by, when you step outside the boundaries of your own language and culture.
I think that is a much more interesting space to be in than a gotcha-laden approach of trying to prove something wrong or bad.
But if we are going to talk accuracy, the fact is that the fan translation many people have been upholding as superior has just as many problems as the official one. It takes just as many creative liberties, they are simply different ones.
The fan translator centered an "I" reading and, rather than using either of the two pronouns provided by the text ("OFA" and あいつ, meaning "that guy"), added a narratively-charged word ("nerd") that did not exist in the original and which (as far as I can tell) Katsuki has never used when speaking to villains. As a translator myself, I really disagree with that second choice. The official clearly missed the callback, but noticed the theme of "everyone who has faced AFO until now" and went with "we." The rest was just style over substance which prioritized edgy language to capture the aggression of the line; this falls squarely in line with what Viz has consistently maintained as its in-house aesthetic. It's disappointing, but unsurprising to me.
Fandom oscillates pretty violently between vilifying the official English release and fawning over it. Whole fan theories are built upon nitty gritty bits of the official release's phrasing; people will get excited over how homoerotic a line sounds, and it's because of how the official translator worded it, rather than any innate implication in the original Japanese.
If you do not speak Japanese, your experience of MHA is fundamentally dependent on the work of translators. I respect that everybody has their personal tastes or hopes for how the series will go, but it is deeply demoralizing as a Japanese speaker and translator to see fans who don't speak any Japanese at all act as though their opinion has the same weight of authority as people who do.
You are entitled to your preferences, but please recognize that they are based in taste, not personal knowledge. Not all Japanese translators will even agree in their interpretations, but it weirds me out that some non-Japanese-speaking fans will use this fervor to spread misinformation far and wide that proclaims as inaccurate perfectly good official translations, simply because the choices don't suit their own tastes.
The lists of "times the fan translations were better" I've seen mostly contain instances where the fan translators took greater liberties than the official release did, and some fans just happened to like the liberties that were taken.
We all reasonably hated the "best friend" fan translation of chapter 359, but somehow that isn't a point forever against fan translations the same way mistakes in the official release are?
At this point, it makes me wonder what the point of writing about linguistic nuance is, if the interest is primarily not in learning but in being told what you want to hear.
I know posting this won't win me any favor with anybody, but it's how I feel. I'm bummed about 405's last line in the official. I do hope it gets revised. But the vibes around translation details are getting decidedly unfun.
One last thought: if you well and truly want to experience MHA unfiltered, learn Japanese. I mean this sincerely, I'm not trying to be a jerk. We live in an age where it is easier and more possible than ever to acquire a new language, talk to people around the world, and absorb yourself in culture and history.
If you want to remove middle-men and develop your own relationship with a work unfettered by the tastes, biases, or choices of others, learn the language. It won't be easy, but I can guarantee you won't regret broadening your horizons and discovering even more beautiful stories in the world.
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glowupwithamy · 20 days
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Solitude is your path of personal independence -
Being alone makes me really happy its like my special place where i can be myself and feel good i don't feel the need for another person to take responsibility for my happiness and emotional needs and i don't really want somebody in the phase i am in i can think and be creative without any interruptions it's like a peaceful break from everything else
Being alone helps me find peace in simple things like reading or walking outside these moments refresh me and make me feel more creative. Being alone also helps me understand myself better now I can think deeply about my feelings and thoughts which helps me grow as a person indeed.
Solitude is a phase that teaches you how to handle your emotions and bad days without relying on someone else. It actually teaches you how to live without depending on others and without ranting about your problems to them
And i want to message those people who constantly seek emotional support from everyone and keep crying that they need someone i feel they need to work on themselves or they have to accept the situation and think about what they can do themselves..instead of constantly seeking attention. Seeking attention all the time makes you mentally weak remember that. I feel that they should question themselves "Why do i need someone else am i not enough?"
Being alone doesn't mean staying comfortable It's about finding strength and discovering who you are ...it's about facing challenges, overcoming fears, and becoming stronger ..when you're alone you have the power to chase your dreams and conquer obstacles so don't think it's not brave to be alone it actually shows how strong and determined you really are.
Solitude makes you quickly observe things around you apart from the world of social media. If you begin on a journey of self discovery and learn to be with yourself ...you won't feel the need for others as much. This journey is very difficult I'm not saying that it's easy lol no!! especially for those who can't live without relying on others but if you want your future self to thank you then don't hesitate just start today . Because today's generation is busy distracting people but we need to bring self control. If you want to understand yourself better.
It took me three years to get in this habit and now i don't need anyone. I don't like to share my problems with anyone because i don't feel it's necessary. I have made myself mentally strong to the point where i don't feel the need for a second person
Last Note :
And if you guys have any questions or anything to ask related to this don't hesitate you can ask me freely :) thanks for giving your time
I have a self discovery questions sheets so that you can guys know yourself better if you want that Dm me 🎀
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whatifyoulivelikethat · 7 months
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not allowed xvi | myg, jjk
pairing(s): est. poly relationship – yoongi x reader x jungkook
summary: The date of Min Yoongi's mandatory service is drawing close. It is not a solemn time, but rather a time to reflect back on how your relationship is different now. Um... other than Jeon Jungkook passed out on the couch. Ignore the snoring.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; discussion about Yoongi's mandatory civil service; relationship talk; holy shit, they love-love each other, all the feels; no smut; idol!BTS - Yoongi x reader x Jungkook; reader is JK’s noona; based on real time
part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: your bf asked JK to fuck you, twice, and then on the regular. blue haired JK. 2021 YG birthday, ‘Butter’, wiyllt remix. new skill acquired, JK’s sheer pj punishment, 2021 JK birthday, during PTD in LA, 2022 HNY, 2022 YG birthday, PTD in LV, 2022 JK birthday; 2022 Christmas
--
“I’m going to be living like you for a while.”
“It is not as exciting as you think it is,” you had replied with a small laugh.
This.
The addition of Jeon Jungkook to the relationship between you and Min Yoongi had a comfortable rhythm. At first, there had been hesitancy. Uncertainty in defying convention, but it had felt so natural that it seemed weirder to defy the connection. A male idol having a girlfriend was already not allowed, so what was one (or) more rule(s) broken? And so, the relationship between you three was a secret from the public for reasons and a secret from most for other reasons.
All obvious, logical, unspoken.
Of course, the ones who knew the most were the other five members of BTS. For the sake of happiness, they preserved this bubble and did not interfere. Understandably, in the beginning, there had been a light discussion between all about if this was helping or hurting. They had wanted to know if anyone was overstepping bounds or if there were any ill feelings. At the end of the day, Yoongi and Jungkook did work together. But, more importantly, they were friends. The group could only work as a unit if everyone trusted each other. This was unmarked territory. Love could be messy. No one could predict the future of forever. You could only promise to be honest. Yoongi had said that he would do his best to communicate and take care of the relationships. And Jungkook, well, he was the kind of man that always had to come back to who he was, otherwise he felt lost.
Meaning…
He was alarmingly bad at hiding his attraction to you.
As proven on Run BTS!, Jeon Jungkook was a very shitty liar.
Surprising to all, the dynamic ended up having a good flow. You knew what you were getting yourself into and you knew you had to adapt to unusual circumstances, as you had been when you chose to pursue this love. As the older one, Yoongi understood Jungkook well. As the younger one, Jungkook was considerate and pure-hearted. There were no major difficulties because everyone went to great lengths to communicate and to be understanding. There was a shared belief in the power of a promise. No need for specific rules on how much time you spent with one or the other, nor any rules for how the time would be spent. With the introduction of solo activities, it became a little easier.
It was easy to love and, now, even easier to spend that precious time together.
Jungkook always told you how important you were to him. Probably because he too wanted to hear that you reciprocated the feeling, which you did and told him so. He was, as he often said, a (large and excitable and very cute) handful. He had odd hours. He was eccentric. Unpredictable. It very much depended on the day if Jeon Jungkook wanted to think very deeply about something specific… or nothing at all. Unbeknownst to ARMY, he had incorporated parts of your personality into his own. It worried you a bit, but it didn’t (did?) bother the fans when he started being a bit more devil-may-care (shirtless).
A good problem to have, one might say.
He often asked for your opinion on this or that. He had worried about being dishonest, about shying away from fans because he felt like he had to keep secrets. You told him to just act on his feelings when he missed them. Friends contact friends when they think of them. Why should ARMY be any different? You didn’t want him to and didn’t think he should stop interacting simply because he was in love. You had told him there was more to him than his relationship with you, and now he was terrorizing ARMY at midnight instead of his girlfriend (his habit of having no sleep schedule was slightly affecting your work life so you were very grateful when he made this decision). That was how Jungkook was. He wanted to know what you thought and how you thought about life. You would always answer honestly, even during times when you knew he wouldn’t like it. Sometimes he would go against your advice. He would usually come back and mumble, you were right, noona, so you never felt the need to scold or say anything more.
Stubborn ox.
Fucked like a rabbit though.
There was some truth to those chosen animal emojis, huh.
Anyway.
You realized that, because of your now relationship with Jeon Jungkook, your relationship with Min Yoongi was different now. Different in all the obvious ways, yes.
But also different in ways you nor him had predicted.
This.
After you lightly joked about him mentioning his soon-to-be-change in work life, it is not as exciting as you think it is, you had looked into Yoongi’s eyes and you knew. He, too, understood. It was a split second. The tension went over Jungkook’s head (he was also a bit too focused at laughing at Kim Taehyung’s appearance on Running Man, understandable), however, in that millisecond of shared gaze, you saw that something about your response had bothered Yoongi, something that he didn’t want to talk about in front of the maknae. Neither of you had ever agreed not to argue in front of Jungkook. Bicker, yes. The youngest found that hilarious. But a more serious discussion? It had never come up.
Until now.
And now you realized – and, by reading his expression and sudden turn of his head, Yoongi as well – that unconsciously both of you had always relied heavily on how well you knew the other, always relied on the many years before Jeon Jungkook to be the centerpiece of this relationship, always relied on an unexplainable telepathy that had developed from knowing the heart, relied so much so that neither of you wanted to show Jungkook anything but that indisputable harmony.
Was that… wrong?
It was hard to tell. There was probably no good answer. But there was that shared silence, the unspoken rule, and Jungkook fell asleep unexpectedly (expectedly?) sometime later, with a smile on his face and his arms around you. He was too heavy for you or Yoongi to carry. Well, probably too heavy for both of you combined too, but you didn’t try. Instead, Yoongi brought a blanket and you nestled Jungkook’s head on a pillow, taking care to give him good neck support and keep his now short black hair out of his closed eyes.
“He’s going to wake up sweating,” Yoongi commented with a smile, not pulling up the blanket too high.
“He should have thought about that before passing out. For someone who doesn’t wear a shirt in public, he keeps it on too often in private.”
“You know he only kept it on while we were laying on the sofa because you complained that one time about your hair sticking to his sweaty chest. Now he’s self-conscious.”
You stuck your hands on your hips. “Well, he should stop being so sweaty around me.”
“Sorry. You turn him on. He’s a hot-blooded animal.”
You rolled your eyes in mock distaste and turned to start clearing the coffee table of the wineglasses and empty snack wrappers. The television was on low, nothing but mumbling and light. Your hand reached out and long, gentle fingers rested on your knuckles.
You paused.
It was cooler now. Nearly fall. Still somewhat hot at times, but the nights were cold. The change in temperature reflected in the skin-to-skin contact. Your head turned, seeing his bare fair-skinned arm, then the sleeve of his large white Valentino t-shirt. Black pajama pants that matched the ones you were wearing, but you were in a dark grey sweatshirt with the bottom half cut off. Up to his face, framed now by his shorter black hair, a sign of what was to come, and then.
Yoongi looked back, dark brown eyes glimmering in the dark.
Lost.
When you were younger, it had been easy to fight.
You had been young, he had been young, and it was only you two. Inexperienced and experiencing everything for the first time, at least when it came to the realness of the emotions. Not yet knowing what either of you wanted from that word called love. Not yet mature but responsible enough to learn what was worth fighting over and what wasn’t. There were things worth worrying about and things not worrying about, the latter of which you and Yoongi chose to let go. It became easy once you both came to the conclusion that it was a conscious choice to address issues promptly rather than wasting time playing cat-and-mouse. When it came to Jungkook, then, you already knew how to read body language and demeanor, not to mention Yoongi had spent enough years being dragged around (literally) by the youngest to know everything about him.
It did help that Jungkook could be read like a children’s book. Again, he was not good at lying.
Now.
You looked back at Yoongi, also lost.
He lifted his hand away from yours.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, you didn’t know the right words to say or the correct way to read him. You could tell Yoongi didn’t know what to say either. It had become a habit to not speak too much about the things he or you had to do. You had static work responsibilities and Yoongi understood that. He had no set schedule, only bursts of time that were in unpredictable cycles despite trying to schedule things. You understood that. His life was a little chaotic and difficult. On some level, you enjoyed it, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. He knew that.
Or.
Did he?
His dark brown eyes shifted downwards. Then, back up, quickly, accompanied by a defeated sigh. You could see that he was telling himself to just say it because the silence was going to become unbearable.
“Are you disappointed?” Yoongi asked you softly.
“What?” Your voice was also quiet. “Why would I be disappointed? About what?”
When he had mentioned earlier that he would be living like you for a while, he had been referring to his mandatory civil service. You knew that. You also knew it was not something you got to decide, nor something he got to decide either. It was assigned. This was a known part of life for Koreans. It was something you could not change, something every able-bodied Korean man had to do, and something you did not look down on.
He was silent for a moment.
“I didn’t want to press on it,” you said, taking a step towards him so you didn’t have to raise your voice above a whisper. “I know you did your best in physical therapy and that you wanted to try and see if you could do military service since it is shorter time period.”
Those dark eyes came back to you. It was apparent that it was much easier for you and Yoongi to comfort Jungkook rather than each other. Being two people that were shown reality rather than having accessible comfort, it was always awkward at times like this. It was too late in the relationship and there was too much consideration to be angry over a misunderstanding, but now you could see why couples resorted to it rather than the discomfort of stumbling towards comprehension.
“Everything has a silver lining.” He smiled again, sheepish and not wanting to frown. “You taught me that.”
The words your ordinary and my special came to mind.
The corner of your lips ticked upward. “Yeah, you’ll be the most handsome civil service worker in all of the nation. It’s going to be so troublesome for them,” you sighed, shaking your head and waving your hand.
His fingertips touched your wrist.
You ceased all movement, gazing up at him.
Underneath wisps of black, those dark eyes searched yours.
“I thought you would be happy,” Yoongi admitted, his touch lingering. “I finally get a small taste of how you live. What hardships you have.”
A pained pause.
“At least some idea of ordinary.”
You took a moment to truly listen to what he was telling you.
Then, your fingers curled, caressing his thumb.
“Min Yoongi,” you breathed out, savoring his name with love and admiration. “I have chosen extraordinary since the day I chose to stay with your heart. I have never regretted a single day, a single hour, a single minute. Not even a second.” You shook your head again, lightly and in seriousness this time, turning your hand in his, not just holding it but believing in the precious power of a promise. “For the record, I don’t need you to experience ordinary life for me to feel like you understand my occasional work complaints. Hell, sometimes I complain just to complain,” you chuckled, squeezing his hand. “I only want you to trust my word. I don’t have the same hardships as you, yes, but I don’t need you to experience mine to for you to be empathetic towards me.”
He sighed and you looked up at him. There wasn’t exasperation. Only a wish that he said something sooner. “At times I feel so out of touch with most of the world.”
“You know that’s okay, right?” you quipped.
Dark brown orbs darted back to you, cocked eyebrow and slight frown.
Himself again.
You shrugged. “You are now a once-in-a-lifetime mega world superstar. Your talent literally cannot be contained in Korea. Didn’t your sold-out solo tour teach your that, hm?”
Gaze sharpening.
You smiled.
Yoongi narrowed his eyes. He was annoyed, but in a good way.
“You will be doing something many normal people do, but you have always done normal people things, you know,” you reminded him.
His expression softened, pensive to your words.
“You have famous friends in the industry, but you don’t make connections you don’t believe in. You help other music artists that many people know the names of, but you don’t do it with only profit and benefit in mind. While the situations are extraordinary, your actions are heartfelt, genuine, and what any ordinary person would do if they cared about them.”
There was something Yoongi always did when he was embarrassed at someone complimenting him and that was cringe and try to smile away the words like he couldn’t hear them. He wasn’t stopping you though. You tugged at his wrist and made him look at you, albeit with some shifty eyes.
“I’m sorry.” You held your joined hands between your beating hearts. “I have learned to expect the unexpected. I didn’t want to get any hopes up of maybe having aligned schedules in case they aren’t. I am not worried about the next couple years, but now I see that bothered you.”
A beat of recognition.
Soft sigh.
A half-smirk.
“It always kind of does.” Yoongi leaned down, forehead to forehead, closing his eyes. Your felt his hair against your skin, his warm breath feathering over your nose. “You are so capable and self-sufficient that I sometimes wonder if I am a selfish one.”
“Hah, how?” You tapped his own knuckles against his sternum sternly. “Are you fucking two dudes from the same group too?”
“Shut up,” he snickered, pressing his lips to your brow. Firm pressure. He clutched your hand tightly. “I know that I can’t give you normal, but it feels too strange that you don’t demand much. I know it is because you don’t want to pile on any stress, but…”
“Are you saying you want me to be a brat?”
A measured silence.
You pressed on. “Don’t you get enough of that from Jungkook?” you whispered low.
A defeated exhale. “I’m only saying I would understand if you were a little bratty.”
“Are you just saying that to get an excuse to spank me?”
“I don’t need an excuse. You’ll beg for it anyway.”
“Excuse me, I do not beg. I order youto spank me.”
“Uh huh.”
“Why are we whispering?” came the croaky, groggy voice of Jeon Jungkook.
You nearly got whiplash.
“Gah!”
“Woah!”
You and Yoongi both pulled away instantly, not really in fear of being seen but more in shock and mild embarrassment. Maybe you both had somehow forgotten Jungkook was there. He had been snoring a little after all. A pink twinge danced across Yoongi’s cheeks. You looked away quickly, and so did he, feeling the tips of your ears burn, not really sure why, and you felt your intertwined fingers begin to loosen.
Both of you froze as a large, tattooed hand slapped onto your joined hands and stopped them from untangling from each other.
Your head jerked, staring at Yoongi wide-eyed. He had a similar, confused expression, soft pink lips parted, blinking quickly. In unison, both of you turned your heads to the fluffy bedhead standing beside you. It was a narrow space between the sofa and coffee tables, so there wasn’t far to look.
Jeon Jungkook was much too sleepy to open his eyes fully.
“Hyung? Noona? What’s wrong…?”
You started a little at his naked pecs. “What the… Why are you shirtless?”
His left hand came up to scratch his head as he yawned. “I got hot, so I took it off… What were you guys talking about?”
“Never mind that, you should sleep on a bed now that you’re up,” Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. He began to pull his hand away and you followed suit, thinking it was safe, glancing at Yoongi who offered a wry smile with his eyes, this guy, and you smiled back, also amused.
Strong fingers tightened.
Three hands bound together.
“Hey.”
You paused, sensing something in Jungkook’s soft tone. Yoongi did too. No one looked at each other. Three introverts between a sofa and a coffee table, between snacks and cushions, between complicated feelings and the belief of a precious promise.
“Hyung’s right, noona.”
You felt your heartbeat slow.
He stumbled a little bit on his words but you barely noticed.
“I’ve never really said this before but… You are the best thing that happened to me besides BTS. I am so lucky to have met six really good guys who took care of me and taught me so much. I am so lucky to have fans that support our journey and music. I have people who have such great love for me that I would have never received if I was all by myself. But... I am also lucky to have someone like you who understands that love. Someone who never tries to come between it, someone who cares about that love as much as I do, someone who encourages me and stands by me even though I am a lot to handle and don’t listen sometimes.”
You couldn’t look at him. You wanted to say, ah, Jungkook, stop, don’t say this, but you felt Yoongi’s sharp gaze and his eyes told you, shut up and listen to this half-asleep man ramble. You shut your mouth but it was still way too embarrassing (not to mention staring at nakey JK was not appropriate for the serious atmosphere, time and place, time and place). His deep voice was a soft murmur, as if it saying these words suddenly like this was not planned. Probably wasn’t.
“I am so lucky to love you.”
A small sniffle.
“I am so lucky to have you too, Yoongi.”
You half-expected the older male to start sprouting you’ve grown up so much once again, but the words couldn’t come out and those cat-like, dark brown eyes were misty, listening.
Really listening.
“I was talking to Taehyungie and I… I realized…”
Jungkook’s fingers caressed your hands.
“Because of you and Yoongi, I have it easy… Everything… Everything is easy. I never feel like I don’t have your attention when I speak to you. You can always tell when I’m stressed and can get me to talk about things even though they might be silly or it’s a situation you’ve never really been in.”
“Feeling frustrated or sad about your everyday life is normal,” you quietly interjected.
You heard the gentle appreciation in his voice. “And you never made me feel like my everyday life is not normal, even though it clearly is.”
You looked up.
Jungkook was staring at all three hands. His eyes were heavy with drowsiness and perhaps something else. A heaviness of words unsaid, maybe, or maybe he was just honest and the thought popped into his head right now.
“Well, I do kind of, sort of, possibly, know someone already who has the exact same lifestyle as you,” you lightly joked.
But.
There was a softness under those lashes and kindness that galaxy of stars in those dark brown orbs.
“I know. And I know I don’t have to explain anything. I don’t have to go through any troubles. I know I can trust you. I don’t have to worry. And that makes me lucky.”
This.
It was true that you didn’t need to hear all this to believe it was fact. You didn’t need, no. But hearing it, and then it hit you harder than ever before, the inexplicable feeling, the naturalness, and Jungkook looked up when he sensed your silence, meeting your eyes, you looking back, into big brown eyes that could be cool, could be sexy, could be endearing, could be anything, but all they said right now was, I love you.
The thought popped into your head.
Wow, he really has matured a lot.
“I’m not doing anything special, Jungkook,” you chuckled softly, about to shake your head but he caught your eye, stopping you in your action.
“You are, noona. Hyung knows, I know, and, like you say to me all the time, it is okay to be a little selfish sometimes.”
“I…”
But you couldn’t look at him anymore, feeling your cheeks flush and your hold tighten, placing your left hand over theirs and pulling your body closer to them. You didn’t have any particular selfishness, really. Truly, what more did you need than Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook trying their best? You didn’t need any grand actions. You only needed to know their hearts were in it. They always were, no matter what, always meaning well, and this small bubble was enough, this contentment was enough, but also you realized that maybe, maybe once in a while.
Maybe it was nice to hear that acknowledgement.
“I only want you both to be yourselves. I don’t want your happiness to be taken away because of numbers, because of what people say, because of unnecessary expectations. That is all I ask for,” you murmured, blinking quickly and taking a slow breath. “I am a simple person deep down. I don’t want to be a burden. There are still so many amazing things you two can do and I don’t want to be the one to hold you back–”
You felt Jungkook’s hand leave yours and Yoongi’s.
Suddenly, strong fingers plonked onto the crown of your head and yanked your head back to face two rather vexed expressions.
“Noona, not trying to be rude, but are you actually listening to anything I’m saying?” Jungkook grumped.
You fixated on his two lip rings and the bouncing mole underneath that frown.
“What?”
Yoongi’s hand also left yours and landed on your shoulder. “We appreciate you. We love you. You are not a burden. No one is questioning your intentions. Please, if you want something that we can give, say it and let us do it for you. A little lost sleep, a little inconvenience is nothing.” He sighed with slight exasperation. “There are things we can do, or can try to brainstorm alternatives, even if you think it’s a little unreasonable.”
“Also, why aren’t you looking at me?” snapped the younger male impatiently.
“Uh.”
“It is not like you haven’t seen Jungkook naked. In fact, I think the whole world has seen him naked.”
“Hey!”
You cleared your throat. “I have absolutely zero problem with a missing shirt,” you corrected firmly, still avoiding anyone’s eyes and (more importantly) chest. “I… I have simply realized this conversation is quite serious and I am trying not to get distracted by anyone’s nip–face.”
A light pat on your shoulder.
“Is communication turning you on?”
“Min Yoongi, I will bite you.”
“I like it when you’re feisty. It’s hot.”
You jerked your head around and poked him in the chest roughly, which did nothing to stop that signature smirking face.
“Noona, it’s been a while since you bit m–”
“Don’t say anything,” you cut him off, snapping your wrist to also (sternly?) prod Jungkook in the (naked) chest. “You are the most trouble–”
The younger male grinned, playful and devilish.
You completely forgot Korean all of a sudden.
Jungkook patted you on the head.
Infuriating.
“You’re so cute, noona.”
You swiped at him, gripping his forearm and growling. “I’ll show you cute–!”
Smooth like butter (like a criminal undercover), Jungkook bent his elbow, devious smirk widening, yanking your hold and your stubborn ass forward before you could realize your mistake, gasping as you felt the hard muscle and graceful simplicity of the movement. Suddenly you were right in front of his face, chest-to-chest, to a brilliant smile and a large nose poking the top of your cheek, playful laughter and his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
This idiot was flexing his tattooed bicep right next to your dropped jaw too.
“Whatchu think? I’ve been trying to work out still but I’ve been eating a little too well lately.”
You grasped his forearm tighter.
Not helpful (but also helpful).
“Be quiet,” you managed to squeak out, jumping as you felt hands on your shoulders and a low, husky voice chuckle next to your ear.
“Discipline him.”
Not your boyfriends ganging up on you and preying on your kinks to…
Oh.
You relaxed.
Ah.
Raised your head.
Jungkook gazed back at you, smiling wide, expressive big peepers telling you all you needed to know.
You’re equal, noona. You always have been.
It still wasn’t the easy to say, but it got easier every time because every time you were more and more sure of how much you meant it.
“I love you.”
He said it back, your eyes sparkling in his. You turned your head and said it again. Hundreds of times, thousands of times, millions, didn’t matter, Yoongi said it back, a small kiss to your hair, murmuring, comfortable against you, and you faced Jungkook again, sharpening your tone to seducing sternness, hm, Jeon Jungkook, you really think you know who you’re dealing with, a promise of precious love expressed in (right) body and (right) mind because it was important to say but also to do. Important to feel but also express. Important to be selfless but too much selflessness was also selfish in a way when someone only wanted to feel a little needed now and then, even in a small way, in held hands and lips-to-lips and skin-to-skin.
Yes, the next few years would be different.
They would also be interesting.
You looked forward to them because you trusted them and you trusted yourself. There was always a silver lining. Every day was a new adventure. There was no need to be afraid. After all, one stopped living life once they became afraid.
You wanted to be present.
Every hour, every minute, every second.
-
The last moments came and they ended with a laugh.
"Don't get sick."
His small, teasing smile said, who are you, my mom?
"Do your best."
The playful eye shift said, eh, I'll think about it.
You smiled back. A slow breath. Your fingertips lingering, sensations of adoration, a million words exchanged between your gazes. Min Yoongi reached up and closed his hand around yours, holding it lightly. There was a lot being said. A lot of memories made and to be made. A lot of future to look forward to. Conversations in the quiet breathing and in the rhythmic pulse of your joined touch. Hands that told stories.
"I can't tell you how much I love you," you chuckled softly. "That would be really embarrassing."
A good-natured smile that hid a laugh. "Yeah? I couldn’t tell you how much I love you either. And, anyway, there's plenty of time. Years and years to elaborate."
A precious promise.
"Yeah. There's plenty of time," you quietly echoed.
A stillness.
This entire exchange didn't last that long to the outside world, but there was forever in his eyes.
Yoongi smirked. Time to get a move on. "Don't get into too much trouble."
You grinned. Leaned in and gave him a delicate, soft kiss.
Whispered against his smile.
"I would never do anything that is not allowed."
This time Yoongi didn’t hold back and laughed.
-
part xvii ... relationships were not allowed.
--
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builtbybrokenbells · 2 months
Text
LEX TALIONIS | ORSUS
Tumblr media
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.
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