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darklydeliciousdesires · 15 hours ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Five.

Thanks to my lovely Diana and Lindsey for their enthusiasm, as always <3

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four

Tag list - In the comments. DM to be added/removed

Words - 2,513

Warnings - 18+ content, minors DNI! Also, while I have tried to remain as true to how Niklas is in reality as I can, I have to have a little creative freedom of my own with him in this. If you don’t like it, simply scroll on by. Bitching isn’t tolerated here. At all. Remember, it’s fiction, not a documentary ;) It’s also worth mentioning that while Taissa has qualities of being quite charming at times, she is not, by any means, a good person.

After returning to the bar, she headed inside to wash the blood from her hands and tidy herself a little, buying another round. Sitting there, still buzzing from her altercation, it was violence they found themselves discussing firstly. She firstly learned he had a background in martial arts, but the way he delivered answers to some of her questions, well, it was certainly unique.

He was, at times, the conversational equivalent of a broken sat nav; he could never get from point A to B without several detours, more often than not never even arriving at point B at all. Of course, she’d witnessed that in him, watching him being interviewed, knowing it was a mixture likely borne of his desire to be vague when it suited him, and surprisingly candid when it didn’t.

“I have my father to thank for my temperamental streak,” she began, lighting a cigarette and knocking the pack across the table to him. “He always said to me, ‘Tai, you were blessed with your mother’s looks, but cursed with her small stature. But it is no matter. I will show how to be tiny, yet mighty’, and he did.”

Niklas had indeed noticed that it was only her choice of footwear that made her tall, Taissa continuing. “He taught me how to shoot, wield knives and bare-knuckle fight. Well, when he wasn’t in prison, that is. I went from the piss-weak, skinny little kid to the one turning over the playground bullies for the money and trinkets they’d stolen from other kids fairly quickly.”

They had a paternal common ground, it seemed. “Prison is where my father remains. He’s... well. I’m my father’s son, let’s put it that way. Except he’s much worse than I am.”

“I think I’m probably at the same level as hostile as my dad when antagonised, except I’m not a Nazi and he is, unfortunately. I still adore him, though, that aside. He looks menacing, too. Imagine Zakk Wylde with a shaved head, but over two metres tall and covered in Neo-Nazi tattoos, and you have my papa.

“Some might call it perverse that my taste in men is somewhat similar. I like a tall guy with more hair on his face than his head, covered in ink.” She paused, reaching to drag her finger in a slow glide down his cheek. “What’s scary to some is sexy fucking beast to me.”

Turning his head, he bit her finger, sucking it into his mouth, Taissa’s eyes narrowing at him although a smile danced upon her lips. “What did I tell you about biting me, Kvarforth?”

Releasing her finger, he looked mildly incredulous, reaching beneath her hair to stroke the purple bite at the side of her neck. “Bit late for that, isn’t it?”

It jolted through her, the memory of his groan when he’d bitten her, the feel of his cock flooding her with cum as he’d pounded her against the hallway wall. The air seemed to crackle as they stared at one another, both in silent challenge of the other to look away first.

“Did you say your apartment is two minutes away?”

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat as desire began to lap in waves through her, remembering the heat of it, having him all over her. It didn’t help matters when his fingers began to glide across her neck, the touch chasing a herd of goose pimples over her skin. “Shall we go now?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, standing slowly. “No. I think I’ll make you wait for it a little longer first.”

Bastard. That wasn’t to say she’d take it lying down, though. Well, eventually she would.

“So, tell me. Why did you choose your career path, lucrative payoff aside?” he asked after returning from the bar, placing the bottle of Never Say Die bourbon he’d been requesting down on the table. There was just under a third left, and so as not to have to suffer being inside the bar any more than he absolutely had to, he’d talked the barmaid into selling him what remained.

“I enjoy having that power over somebody. I have what they need, and I get to profit off of that. Much like you, I am not a people person, beyond what they can do for me. I live a very good life from their addiction, their weakness. This will never cease being thrilling to me.”

Brutal honesty. He respected that. Seldom few were the same.

“Before I started buying from your brother,” he began, Taissa rapidly shaking her head.

“Me. You buy from me. I stand at the helm,” she interrupted.

“From you,” he continued, “I used to buy from a man named Stefan. I think he was probably one of the most fantastically dark individuals I have ever known. He used to have one hell of a kink, engineering it so junkies would overdose and masturbating as he witnessed them die. I went with him once, but she didn’t fucking die. Shame, I’d have liked to witness that.”

Taissa knew exactly what he was doing, seeing if he could force some kind of shock reaction from her. She gave none. “Did you hear how he died?”

Curiosity piqued within him. “He’s dead? I assumed he’d been arrested when I could no longer reach him. That was usually the way when he went quiet.”

“No, he did a Michael Hutchence. Died by autoerotic asphyxiation. He was found hanging in his bedroom, cock still hard, with a twelve-inch dildo suctioned onto the floor beneath him.”

Niklas couldn’t help but laugh at that. “This does not surprise me in the slightest. That man propositioned me multiple times.”

Her eyebrow raised. “And did you?”

“No, men don’t do it for me,” he revealed, sipping his drink. “I am alas a fucking slave to what you women have between your legs.”

“Alas?” she questioned, kicking off her shoe beneath the table, beginning to slowly slide her foot up his inner thigh. “Why is that?”

“Because you are all cunning, terrible creatures.” His eyes flitted down, seeing her red-painted toes press into his crotch. “Case in point.”

“Guilty as charged,” she shrugged, beginning to massage his cock with the ball of her foot. “But you like it.”

Her assertion was correct, but he didn’t confirm, shifting in his seat a little as he felt himself beginning to harden. Fuck, this woman. Tempress didn’t cut it.

Just then, the sound of gears being furiously crunched attracted their attention, both turning to see a car haphazardly shuddering up the street. At the same time, they shouted the exact same words.

“Put it in H!”

Niklas’s eyes snapped to her in an instant. A Simpsons fan. He rarely met them these days, it seemed. “So, not only can she quote The Simpsons, but she can recall the most obscure quotes, too. Interesting.”

Taissa pointed to the car, the driver of which continuing to struggle. “She’ll go three hundred hectares on a single tank of kerosene.”

He couldn’t help but begin laughing. Her impersonation of the Crazy Vaclav character was utterly perfect. “What country is this car from?”

“It no longer exists.” They both fell into soft laughter at that, their little skit from the cartoon having them both feeling entertained.

“I remember the first episode I ever saw, with Homer repeatedly falling down the cliff,” she reminisced, snorting with laughter. “I was about five, I think. My mother thought I was warped to find it so funny, but it’s the funniest moment for certain,” she spoke, Niklas yanking her foot away from his crotch and resting it on his thigh instead, idly playing with her toes.

He clicked his fingers, pointing at her. “Agreed.” It was a strange juxtapose, two people who so revelled in the darker, more criminal side of life, both having an affinity for the iconic, light-hearted cartoon. “A close second is him losing it in episode based on The Shining. No TV and no beer make Homer go crazy.”

She beamed, obliging him in continuation. “Don’t mind if I do!” Her enactment of Homer indeed going crazy had him booming with laughter, people turning to stare. It was utterly ridiculous, the black metal musician and the drug dealer, broken from the veneer of hardness surrounding them, as well as their mental and sexual teasing by the reciting of a kid’s cartoon.

He topped up their glasses with the last of the bourbon, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, offering her one, too. All while his other hand preoccupied itself with her foot.

“How are you enjoying my toes?”

Looking down at the dainty foot, he then stared at her intently. “I’ll be enjoying them much more when they’re in my mouth.”

Oooh, the wink he followed those words with. Her pussy clenched in an instant. “Got a thing for feet, hmm?”

A thing was putting it mildly. “You could say that. Feet, feet in high heels, in nylons. Legs in nylons. My fetishes are well-documented.” Running his index finger down the centre of her foot, he rotated it a few times before returning it to tickle over her toes. “What are your fetishes?”

“Money and power.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I meant sexual, and you know that I did.”

“Who said money and power can’t be sexual?” Watching him, she knew from his lowered gaze, the expectance in his eyes, that he wouldn’t accept that. Well, if there was ever a time to tease a little more... “Having the weight of a man on me, feeling pinned, being held down. I’m boss in every aspect of my life, and I rarely deviate in the bedroom. Sometimes, though, I like to submit.”

She certainly had when he’d picked her up and fucked her against his hallway wall. Then again, with the sexual force of nature that was Niklas, she’d had little choice.

The information shared was met by a look of appreciation, his glass lifted, the contents sunk in one gulp. “Drink up, and I can make that happen for you.”

Pulling her foot from his grasp, she slid it in a slow glide down his leg, looking out from beneath her long lashes at him. Picking up the glass, she made a show of licking her lips before tipping the warming bourbon down her throat, slipping her foot back into her shoe. “Let’s go.”

Time seemed to move slowly as they walked to the end of the row, turning the corner, Taissa keying in her code on the front door. It felt like a storm brewing, the heat gathering thickly as they stepped into the elevator, heading three floors up, the air becoming heavy, glances stolen, the anticipation creeping over them like a fog.

Putting the key in her door, she felt him sweep her hair from her neck, teeth biting down, the pin pricks of pain melting like icicles trickling down her spine, turning to pull him to her level and kiss him with ferocity. He herded her backwards, lifting her with ease, the open plan of the large space meaning he didn’t need to inquire over bedroom location. Clothes were shed en route, their bodies hitting the bed, mouths locked together as he pinned her beneath his weight, taking her wrists in an encircled grip and pressing them either side of her head.

“How’s that?”

How was that? Enough to feel the petals of her cunt begin to become slick for him, Taissa transfixed at watching the blue of his eyes almost eclipsed entirely by rapidly inking pupils. “Amazing, but it can wait.” Pulling from the grip, she pressed her hands to his chest, pushing him off of her and back to his feet. “Right now, there’s not much I need more than your cock in my mouth.”

He hummed a chuckle, raising an eyebrow as his hand tangled in her hair, giving it a short, sharp tug. “I’m not about to stop... that.”

The pause between words couldn’t be helped, his breath hitching, watching himself vanish completely between her full lips. She kept him swallowed back, her mouth pulsing around the very base of his cock a few times, tongue flickering the underside before slowly gliding back up his shaft. Just that, and she already had him mindless. The feel of her nails scraping down his sides only added to it.

“Fuck,” he whispered, chest shuddering, transfixed at the sight, his hand tightening in her hair again sharply. “You look even prettier, choking on my cock.”

Pushing further into her throat, he triggered her gag reflex, Taissa releasing him to spit on his shaft, pumping it with her hand thereafter, tongue gliding over the tip. It made lightning begin to flicker at the base of his spine, roughly forcing himself back between her lips again, grunting quietly when her fingers began to pinch and twist at one of his nipples.

“Oh, even though it’s a little late, you’d better not fucking have herpes or anything else nasty. I’ll fucking cut your balls off if you do,” she spoke, sucking the head of his cock, Niklas laughing through his nose. He didn’t doubt she would.

“Surprisingly, I actually don’t. I got forced into an STI test recently, so I know I’m fine.”

She paused, her eyebrow fluttering. “Forced?”

“Mm,” he hummed, watching himself disappear in her mouth once more. “If you bareback two patients in the same mental facility as you within the space of forty-eight hours, they make you get tested.”

“Animal,” she quipped, turning her head to bite the side of his hip.

“I have a feeling that is exactly what you like about me.” He wasn’t wrong, Taissa returning her mouth to his cock and once again, making him vanish. Fuck, she was too good at sucking dick, Niklas feeling himself beginning to ascend quite rapidly, fingers weaving tighter in her hair as he began to fuck her mouth, his chest starting to rise and fall more rapidly.

Feeling him becoming firmer within her mouth gave her the most delicious little shocks of excitement, becoming dewier at her apex, imagining how it would soon feel to have him inside her, her arousal glowing like moonbeams through the very depths of her.

That gathered excitement spurred her mouth quicker upon him, her tongue teases becoming more potent, Niklas’s hand still clutched hard upon her hair. His gravelly groans became more frequent, her lips tightening, oh, so tight around him, pleasure skittering over his tremble-wracked body.

The embers began to crackle, glowing, ever nearing bursting into flame, Taissa sensing it, speeding her mouth up until she felt him pulsing between her lips, shooting his load onto her tongue with a guttural grunt as his hips swayed forward, swallowing back every last hot spurt.

“Sufficiently ruined?”

The look he gave her was all darkened lust, pushing her back on the bed, yanking her legs up and taking one of her feet, sucking her toes with a groan. “No. Trust me, though. You’re about to be.”

She could barely wait.

#niklas kvarforth #niklas kvarforth fanfiction #shining band #shining #black metal #metal guys

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 day ago

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I don't like that shirt. I will remove it from him. Yes.

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 days ago

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The absolute joy I get when people do this to me at work, and I stand a bit taller and wider before delivering the following line:

"You're speaking to her."

The way feminism leaves by body when someone knocks on my door selling stuff and asks for the boss.

No, I am not the boss. The boss is at work. Go away.

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 days ago

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the most fun a girl can have is finding parallels, noticing patterns, making connections, contemplating

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 days ago

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mutuals always making masterpieces and I think wow. and you're following me too. wild stuff

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 days ago

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@cillmequick @zablife @runnning-outof-time @justrainandcoffee and anyone else I've missed, I am desperately behind on my reading, girlies! I will try and catch up but work is mental, I'm not sleeping the best right now (no idea why, for once I'm not at stress level 10000 xD) so I promise I will get to them as soon as I can. You might have me in your DM's asking to be linked if I can't find them, lol!

#ddd speaks #claire says stuff #claire tries to balance the work/fun stuff ratio #and fails #I AM SO TIRED FOR REALS

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 days ago

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@zablife You are not wrong. This man has prime buns!

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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 days ago

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This is exactly why a few of my stories will remain on permanent hiatus. It's so soul-destroying not to have any meaningful engagement and we as authors are sick of begging for the bare minimum here. I really feel for the above author mentioned here because I know exactly they've gone through in coming to their decision. It sucks.

If you're enjoying something, SPEAK.

I recently shelved an original fic of mine because barely anyone was interested in it. Along came the "Write for yourself" tribe, of course. Yes, writing for yourself is all well and good, but when you share it, it's because you WANT others to connect to it, too! Then came another comment from someone saying how much she loved it and wanted to see it continue, and this girl had not - apart from once - interacted with the story in all of its nine-chapter run. That's greed. That's "give me what I want but oh, I'm not prepared to engage in it whatsoever, no matter how nicely you ask." Selfishness, pure and simple.

You are consuming free books, essentially, but truly, it doesn't come free to us. We agonise over characterisations, over plot lines, over story arcs, everything. We put our time, love and devotion into it. It isn't free for us. And then some people have the utter gall to complain about there not being decent stories out there any longer? Try feeding the authors a little kindness before they come to the conclusion so many talented people have. It isn't difficult to hit reblog and say "OMG I absolutely loved this chapter, can't wait for the next!" I just timed how quickly it took me to type that. Eight seconds. You spend longer reading the update than that, so really, there's no bloody excuse!

Geez, I went on a bit there. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. xD

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

#fanfiction #please be kind to your authors #we really are fed up of saying it over and over

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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 days ago

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First look at #TomHardy in HAVOC.

#Havoc, releases on #Netflix 2025

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darklydeliciousdesires · 4 days ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Four.

Previous Chapters - One Two Three

Tag list - In the comments. DM to be added/removed

Words - 2,762

Weed, ganja, chronic, herb, puff, whatever you wanted to call it. Taissa rarely smoked it, but when needs must. Truly, she needed a little mental steadying, her drive home perilous, her body still wracked with trembles. That, and a rapidly trickling deposit of cum wetting her inner thighs, too.

She almost hated him a little bit for being such a good fuck.

It was she who was meant to hook him, she the one remaining in control. However, now all she could do was resign herself to the fact that she knew, understood well, that there wouldn’t be a day to pass where she wouldn’t crave that man to his very bones. Five minutes and he’d turned her into a shuddering wreck. Five. Fucking. Minutes.

“That fucking man!” she fumed, throwing her legs up on the sofa and shuffling down, resting the ashtray upon her stomach as she drew fiercely on the blunt in her hand. It hit her then, that she’d also left without payment for the drugs she’d dropped off, Taissa groaning, wiping a hand down her face with a sigh. That fucking man.

He had no business literally being capable of fucking her brains out. In five minutes. Five fucking minutes!!

A little internal composure was reined back, though, realising she’d left him there utterly breathless upon the floor. She did, after all, always give as good as she got. Who was to say that he wasn’t just as enchanted by her prowess now, too? Still, the balance felt off to her, and she was a sizeable wedge of money down. There was only one thing to do.

‘Send me Kvarforth’s number.’

A few seconds passed before Miika replied. ‘Whyyyyy?’

‘None of your concern, just do it. I need to speak to him.’

‘Ohhhh, has Tai got a crush?’

Her lip curled instantly, knowing of course her brother was enjoying this greatly, his usual taunting of her. ‘Number. Now. I have business with him.’

“Does this business involve his cock?” he asked, after she’d begrudgingly answered his call.

No, she’d had that already. “Miika, just text me the number.”

“Why are you being evasive? What is this business?”

She couldn’t reveal it, save being further harangued by her sibling. Nor could she admit that, for the time being at least, Niklas had scored his drugs on tick rather than paying for them immediately. Very few people dared owed either of them money, Taissa especially. He ferocity there was well known. “Send me the number, or I tell dad you once dated a black girl.”

Leevi Aho was, at his heart, a hardened racist, a terrible trait that had fortunately bypassed his very unprejudiced children completely. They’d tried many times to update his thinking to little avail. Miika didn’t care who you were as long as you weren’t annoying, and Taissa – much like the man whose number she was attempting to procure – looked down upon anyone other than a chosen few with the same distain, regardless of race.

“For fucks sake, no,” he groaned. Not that he really cared, but he could do without being berated for a good half an hour by his father and his white pride nonsense. It was a shame, because for all his criminality and penchant for narrow-mindedness, Leevi was a very amiable man with those he liked. “You wouldn’t, Tai.”

Oh, she would. “Try me. I want that number, and I want it now, Miika.”

Hanging up, it took a total of twenty seconds for the contact to ping into her messages, Taissa saving it under the name of ‘that fucking man’ before typing out a message.

‘You still owe me for the delivery. Meet me at Goldie’s at six tomorrow, they have a good bourbon selection. I’ll let you buy me one if you’re not late.’

Hell, the least she could do was get a drink out of him, pissed off that she was. How dare he be that fucking good a fuck. Yes, despite the weed softening her edges, she was still annoyed that he’d gotten a hook into her.

Niklas was in the middle of trying to feed Katze when his phone beeped, the meowing feline weaving his ankles in her impatience for the bowl to be offered.

“If you break my fucking neck, I cannot feed you,” he spoke, placing it down for her once she’d cleared his feet. “I wouldn’t recommend eating me if I expired either. I probably wouldn’t taste too great.”

Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he saw a number he didn’t recognise, opening the message. He grinned, returning it, leaving her waiting a little while. He had every intention of meeting her the following evening, but he wouldn’t show himself to jump at the chance. An hour later, and he finally replied.

‘Six-thirty, and yes. I might. Depends, though.’

Ten minutes passed, Taissa busy preparing herself an early dinner. ‘On what?’

‘On whether I can follow that bourbon down your throat with my cock.’

Yes, he was about as subtle as a hand grenade, but he didn’t believe in coyness.

She had to smile a little at such bluntness, very much liking that about him. ‘If you’re lucky.’ Oh, the glory she could hold at meeting up with him, dangling the promise of another dalliance with her, only to snatch it away and leave him burning on the memory of what had happened between them instead.

‘I always am. See you at six-thirty.’

With those plans made, she was in no real rush to move herself off her huge, comfortable white sofa, deciding to lounge around before she’d begin her night making drops to her customers as soon as the calls began coming in. That, of course, meant switching her work phone on first. 5pm and she’d do it, wanting time to herself first.

With little else to do, she decided to indulge in a little more research about the man who she’d be seeing the following evening, deciding to look at a few interviews on YouTube. Very quickly, she saw a definite pattern begin to emerge.

While Niklas was by no means tame in nature, he definitely had a duality. High and drunk, and he was a loud, obnoxious nightmare, but somehow still quite entertaining. Less so, or completely sober, and he was very engaging, intelligent and well-spoken.

There was a candidness to him that some might find unnerving, but she could easily spot when he was embellishing from when he wasn’t, very much enjoying trying to provoke a reaction. Most of the time, though, he wasn’t, and that was perhaps the most unnerving thing about him. His life had been dark, and he carried it with him.

They were very similar there.

Also, he might’ve professed to have an extreme adversity to people, but he certainly liked being the centre of attention. Hell, he wouldn’t have been a vocalist if he didn’t, although she did sense there to be exhilaration and apathy in equal measures while watching him on stage.

In her twenty-eight years, she had become extremely apt at reading people, even being able to pick up on when others were doing the exact same thing. Niklas definitely read people quickly and adjusted himself to suit, Taissa also noticing his very low threshold for either bullshit or boredom.

Again, they were very similar there.

Laughing to herself at the discomfort of one particular interviewer, who had sadly gone in woefully unprepared to deal with a drunken Niklas, his mundane mediocrity being met by – at least she thought – quite comedic hostility. Then again, she did have a darker sense of humour, and making people feel uncomfortable always had been a source of entertainment for her.

And yet again, they were very similar there.

Something else pertinent she noticed about him, after switching interviews to one he’d participated in just the previous year, was his view on relationships. He seemed to have no problem falling in love and being with a woman, but always, it would be sabotaged by his own misdeeds for the sake of lyrical fodder. He needed, it seemed, to live what he wrote.

He also spoke of manipulating women to fall in love with him, Taissa feeling her mouth curl sinisterly. Oh, the thrill to be the one who manipulated somebody like him to fall head over heels for her, and then simply leave him behind. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d done it either, but god, the prize of knowing she could more than likely exert such over a man like Niklas. It was too tempting a thrill to pass up.

Also, it meant she got to fuck him some more, too. That certainly wouldn’t be a bad thing. He was, as she’d recently learned, very good with his cock.

It offset the feeling of knowing she was craving him all over again, and after only just about recovering from the sexual decimation she’d received, too. She could have her cake and eat it, as it were. Sex that good was almost impossible to pass up, should it be on offer to her again.

And of course, it would be.

Rising from the sofa eventually, she slipped on her shoes, her feet much more comfortable in the black Nike sneakers she chose, her attire casual in leggings, an oversized t shirt and hoodie, picking up her keys, phone and stash. She was running with one of hers and Miika’s underlings that night, going to fetch Henrik before her seven-hour hustle began.

Pills, speed, mind-bending weed and what she had left in blow were all delivered promptly to waiting customers, Taissa keeping her eye out for the only worry she faced while working. Since she made a habit of changing her car regularly, though, it made it harder for the police to keep tabs on her transportation. Still, it didn’t mean she proceeded in her endeavours without caution.

By 2am, she was out of everything, dropping Henrik home and happily returning to hers to crawl into bed and sleep for many hours. Awaking at a very late 10am, she threw herself out of bed and into gym clothes, using the facilities luckily on hand there in her apartment complex.

While working up a very decent sweat on the treadmill, she couldn’t help but smile to herself through the thigh-burning torture she endured. It likely wouldn’t be the only cardiovascular workout she’d be getting that day, looking forward to the one that’d involve a certain tall dude with a lot of tattoos.

Until then, she went to collect her new supply ready for work to resume the following day, took a long bath, not needing to worry about timing her getting ready to head out and meet Niklas. The reason beyond the plentiful bourbon choice at the bar she’d suggested was entirely out of convenience for her; Goldie’s was a two-minute walk from her apartment.

Turning the corner at 6:29pm, she saw him sitting at a table outside, her stomach flipping pleasantly at the memory of the afternoon before.

“Why did you tell me to meet you here?” he began, looking mildly vexed as she sat down opposite him, having a glass of bourbon slid across the table while he lit a cigarette. “This place is bullshit, the vast choice of that stuff aside.”

“Because it’s two minutes from my apartment.” Her revelation did nothing to remove the unimpressed expression, Taissa clicking her fingers and holding her hand out. “I believe I’m owed.”

He took the money from his pocket and handed it over. “For making me meet you here, I’m the one who is now owed. You’d better swallow.”

“If you’re going to do a job, you do it right or not at all.”

He might have been stewing in a bad mood, mostly from being stared at by half the vastly different patrons in the bar who’d viewed him as some kind of oddity, but he couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

She was just about to deliver an equally smart mouthed retort when her eye was caught by somebody on approach, a certain someone who froze as soon as he saw her. Rule number one with Taissa Aho; never be foolish enough to owe her money.

“Wait here.”

She was out of her seat and running in chase down the street after the man in a flash, Niklas turning to look over his shoulder, impressed at her speed and ability to run in high heels if nothing else. Never being one for obeying the will of others, he sank his drink and got up, walking in the direction they’d ran.

He saw her catch the guy, dragging him between two buildings, keeping his pace casual as he drew on his cigarette, entering the narrow alley to witness a sight his eyes fixated upon keenly. There was the man who had unsuccessfully fled, pinned to the wall by his throat, Taissa punching him repeatedly in the face with a knuckle duster donned hand, looking beyond irate.

“Where’s my fucking money, Eino?”

“I’ll get it, I’ll get it for you soon, just give me a couple of days! Fuck!”

“Wrong answer,” she hissed, her fist meeting his cheekbone again, the skin splitting. God, the dick twitch that gave her audience, Niklas leaning against the wall and spectating keenly. He much preferred it to the bar. “I want all of it. Now.”

“I haven’t got it, Taissa! Fuck, let me go and I’ll make a call, get it here for you!”

Her laughter was a dark bark of disbelief, her fist connecting with his face a couple more times. “Liar. Give me my fucking money.”

“I... but...” he spoke, turning his head to view Niklas, standing there grinning. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

His eyebrows rose, lifting his chin with a sniff. “You, getting your face split open.” Drawing on his cigarette, he continued to watch the scene unfold, more than impressed at the way Taissa handled things. He missed a good fight. Being on probation sucked.

Oh, now he knew her name, too. She could now be known as something other than the hot blonde with a beautiful cunt and an acerbic temperament. “I’d give her the money if I were you.”

Taissa jerked her head in his direction, her fist once again cracking Eino’s face, this time shattering a couple of teeth. “What he said. Money, Eino. Now.”

With his mouth, eye and cheek pouring with blood, Eino went into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and shuffling through to grab the required notes. Taissa tutted, pulling the full wedge out. “No, no. All of that will be fine. The rest I will take as interest. Now, if I were you, I’d lose my number. If I ever see you again, the other half of your face gets broken. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” One more punch for good measure had him knocked into a daze, Taissa releasing him to fall down into a heap, turning to walk back to Niklas. “I thought I told you to wait...”

That was as far as she got before he grasped her face in his hands and pressed his mouth to hers, her display of undiluted aggression acting more than favourably upon him. In short, he was so turned on, he was surprised he could even stand up.

The kiss was a lot less animalistic than the last time, but fuck, if it didn’t smoulder with exactly the same level of heat. “I think that’s the sexiest thing I’ve witnessed in a while.”

Slipping the knuckle duster from her fingers, she pocketed it, flexing her hand a few times. “Just wait until you see how sexy I look with your cock in my mouth.”

He barely could. “Hmm, yeah,” he breathed, kissing her again. “I think I might like you. As much as I can like someone, that is. Because I don’t. I do not like people at all.”

The corner of her mouth tugged upward; her face full of triumph. “I know.” Another kiss was shared, her tongue rolling pleasantly with his, his arms tightening around her. Oh, wow. He was hard. An interesting response to her giving somebody a beating, if nothing else. “At least one man in this alleyway knows what’s good for him.”

Never let it be said that Niklas didn’t know a good thing when he saw it. Except truly, she wasn’t. Taissa was just as bad as him. Maybe worse. And that was exactly why he liked her.

#niklas kvarorth #niklas kvarforth fanfiction #shining band #shining #black metal #metal guys

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