#avengers: infinite denial
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I have a suggestion/compromise? You mentioned not having the heart to finish those abandoned marvel drafts but if you were willing to share some of the already written bits that you do like, why not just post them as excerpts? You needn't finish them and we get to read your lovely work and stop harassing you for more ❤️
I've been tossing this idea around in my head for the last couple of days and I still don't know where I'm coming down in terms of "actually posting unfinished works to AO3" but I did go back and reread some of these fics I moved into my "MCU Fic Salvage Folder" (aka the wips I feel like would be most worth finishing someday, hypothetically) and once again went "huh you know these are still decent" and it does seem a pity that they're just sitting around languishing unread when people might hypothetically appreciate them, and I'm always in constant need of external validation.
so you know what, since you asked, anon, here, have a 2.3k chunk of an avengers: infinity war canon divergence that I'm fond of notionally but very unlikely to ever finish.
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you who turn the wheel and look to windward
Loki watched himself die.
It was necessary, so that he could ensure all the reactions were perfect, the simulacrum as believable as possible, as precisely real as possible. Making a copy of himself was easy - child’s play. Had been for centuries. Making one that was solid to the touch and real enough to fool Thanos--
He’d never done it before, and he could feel the strain of it in his chest, but he was strong enough for this. He had to be.
That didn’t make it any easier to watch his own throat crushed in Thanos’s hand. He could feel himself shaking, his heart beating like it was going to explode, terror squeezing his airways as tightly as Thanos was squeezing his double’s--
Loki knew the pop-crack wasn’t real and he still flinched. The simulacrum went limp, and a muffled sound reminded him of the other reason he’d kept his eyes so determinedly fixed on his own death.
I’m sorry, he thought frantically. Thor, I’m sorry, I couldn’t think of another way--
Thanos dropped the body - his body, and he had the disorienting, horrifying experience of staring at his own dead eyes - in front of Thor. He was saying something, but Loki couldn’t hear it over the roaring in his ears.
Leave, he willed Thanos. Leave, damn you, you have what you want, now go--
Thor was sobbing. He could hear that, all too clearly, and oh if he’d ever wanted proof of what Thor had said (I mourned you) he had it now, and it was bitter in the having.
Thanos turned his back and Loki held perfectly still, quivering like a dog straining at the leash, waiting, waiting. All he needed was a moment, a clean moment where he could get Thor away and run, it didn’t matter where, somewhere, anywhere. He hadn’t managed to save Asgard. Or Frigga, or Heimdall. But he would do this, he had to do this, there was no other choice.
Walk away, he thought. Walk away, there’s nothing here for you, we’re already dead.
Thor was holding his corpse. Clinging to it, and Loki hated himself but he hated Thanos more and he would apologize when they were safe, would let Thor beat him into the ground if it just meant they made it through this.
Let us make it through this.
Loki felt the flash of power roll through him. Of Power. Felt the remnants of the ship groan as they started to tear apart.
No, Loki thought. No, no-
He gauged the distance between him and Thor and Thor and Thanos and it didn’t matter, he couldn’t wait any longer.
He’d already waited too long.
The ship ripped apart as Loki lunged for Thor, mouth open to shout his name before the vacuum of space tore his voice away, tore him away.
Then there was nothing, for a long time.
**
“You’re d’asting shitting me.”
Loki’s mind stirred sluggishly. His thoughts were fragmented, slow to cohere. There was something about that voice and its rough edge that made Loki’s stomach clench anxiously, but he couldn’t put a name to it, or to where he was, or to what-
No, he knew what had happened. The ship had been torn apart. And somehow...he’d survived.
Again.
“I should just throw you back out there,” said the vaguely familiar voice. “This is a waste of time.”
Loki fought his way free like a river in spring thaw. Everything was still jumbled, confused, but one thing remained squarely at the forefront of his mind.
“Thor,” he said weakly.
Thor, clinging to his body as the ship was ripped apart, and he hadn’t been fast enough to reach him.
He jerked the rest of the way back to life and lunged to his feet, whirling around with a knife in hand, and froze, staring at Thanos’s daughter. She stared back at him, her jaw set. “You,” he snarled, and lunged for her, hopelessly uncoordinated, still weak. She batted his thrust aside easily.
“Cut it out,” she said. “I’m not here for him.”
Loki flashed his teeth. “I am supposed to believe that?”
“Believe it or don’t,” she said. “But don’t try to stab me again after I just dragged you and the other one onto my ship against my better judgment.”
Loki’s heart leapt into his throat, something like hope almost blooming in his chest. “The other one?”
“Yeah,” she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. “She’s over there.” She turned her back and started back toward the cockpit, stride jerky and ever so slightly uneven. “Don’t make me regret this.”
His heart dropped just as quickly. She. But he looked reluctantly over where Thanos’s daughter - he remembered her, if not her name - had indicated. Even one living Asgardian, even one, he told himself, no matter if it was not Thor…
I promise you, brother, the sun will shine on us again.
He walked unsteadily over to the other body lying on the ship’s deck. He recognized the style of the vessel - one of Thanos’s, which suggested that either Thanos’s daughter had stolen it, or she was lying.
Not just any Asgardian, Loki thought, kneeling down unsteadily next to her. The Valkyrie. She was a survivor. Like him.
Even as he started to reach out toward her, she gasped in a breath and her eyes snapped open, her knife flashing toward his throat. She stopped it just before it sliced through skin, staring at him, wide-eyed.
“Fuck,” she said. “Loki?”
Loki choked on a hysterical laugh. “The one and only,” he said.
“The fuck...the fuck happened?” Valkyrie’s voice rasped painfully. Loki wondered if there was water. He should have asked, but he still felt dull, muddled. Thor must have survived. He had to have. But where…
He slumped back away from her. “Thanos,” he said.
“I knew that,” Valkyrie hissed, already on her feet. There was an ugly rent in her armor, bleeding sluggishly. “But we’re not dead, so obviously-”
She cut off. Loki saw the moment when she put it together.
“There’s no one else, is there,” she said.
Loki didn’t want to say it. Couldn’t make himself say it. “I don’t know.”
Valkyrie let loose with a string of expletives that Loki couldn’t parse. He waited for her to finish shouting.
“Hulk?” She said, finally.
“Heimdall sent him to Midgard. To warn them.” And was murdered for it. He didn’t speak that part, but he could tell that Valkyrie heard it nonetheless.
“And Thor?” She asked, but he could tell by the look on her face that she already knew the answer. She just wanted him to say it. Why? So she could blame him, that he was still here and Thor might be-
He’s not dead. I won’t believe it. He turned his back on her and walked over to the cockpit to stare at the back of Thanos’s daughter’s head. She’d been a Luphomoid, once. He wasn’t sure what to call her now. “What’s your game,” he asked, harshly.
“Getting to Thanos. Killing Thanos.”
Loki jerked. “Last I saw you-”
“Last I saw you,” she snapped, “you were dancing on Thanos’s strings. It’s been a while.”
“You know this person?” Valkyrie said, coming up behind him.
“Yes,” Loki said flatly. “Not fondly. There were a lot of sophisticated instruments of torture involved.”
He felt Valkyrie stiffen, and somewhere distant where he was still feeling things was touched.
“Don’t make me regret pulling you out of vacuum,” she said, her voice, if possible, even harsher than he remembered. “I only did it because-”
She stopped. Her hands twitched on the controls. Loki could see something, suddenly, in her single-minded intensity, the taut coil of her entire body, straining toward a destination she was afraid she wouldn’t reach.
“Because why,” he said. She clamped her mouth shut and didn’t answer.
“Would someone explain to me who you are and what’s going on,” Valkyrie said tightly, her voice almost vibrating, and it occurred to Loki that she’d been the sole survivor of her sisterhood, and was now one of a handful of survivors at most, almost immediately after returning to Asgard. Loki stumbled back and sat down on one of the unoccupied seats, his head suddenly spinning again.
“She’s a daughter of Thanos,” he said. “Not of his flesh - I don’t know that he has any of those. I certainly hope not.”
“I am not that,” she said, her voice grating. “My name is Nebula. I almost killed Thanos once. This time, I’m going to do it right.”
“You’ve changed your tune,” Loki said. To Valkyrie, he added, “it seems we both managed to survive being blasted into space when Thanos disintegrated the ship. Which is, I imagine, where she found us.”
“But not Thor,” she said.
“There were no other signs of life in the vicinity,” Nebula said, after a brief pause. Loki felt like he’d been punched in the chest. He slumped back into the seat, staring blankly forward.
It should have been you, whispered a nasty voice in his mind. Not him. Never him.
Valkyrie swore under her breath. “Fuck,” she said. “Shit.”
Nebula, to his gratitude, said nothing. He was quite certain she knew the name. She’d heard him scream it enough.
“Fuck!” Valkyrie roared, slamming her foot into the hull of the ship. Loki bowed his head and tried to summon the words: nor shall we mourn, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t. He felt like something had been ripped out of his core.
“Where are we going,” he said finally, numbly.
“I told you-”
“Yes, I know. I meant more specifically than that.”
“Vormir,” Nebula said. Loki frowned.
“What’s on Vormir?”
“The Soul Stone.”
Loki’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” He said, voice a little hoarse. He’d had some slim hope that the thing was lost. That no one knew where to find it, Thanos included, and thus he would not be able to complete his quest.
Stupid. He should know better by now than to trust to hope.
Nebula’s jaw tightened. “I don’t know if Thanos is still there. But it’s the last location I know he was heading.”
“How did he know where to go,” Loki said, his throat closing like he was the double Thanos had strangled. “I thought it was lost-”
“Not lost enough,” Nebula said. She was wound so tight she was almost vibrating. Racing against time. She was afraid. Loki had not thought she was capable.
That was all the Stones accounted for. Two on Midgard. Two Thanos already possessed (one thanks to you, sentiment, and what was it worth in the end, you still lost). One on Knowhere in the Collector’s care - he was strong enough that he might be able to match Thanos on his own, but with two Infinity Stones already in his possession? Perhaps not.
And the Soul Stone, on Vormir.
“How do we kill him,” Valkyrie said, her voice harsh. “This - Thanos. How do we kill him?”
“Quickly,” Nebula said. “Cutting his throat should do it. I intend to take his whole head just to be sure.”
“Not if I get to it first,” Loki said. Nebula gave him a sharp, ugly look that Loki ignored. He was very cold, and trying very hard not to think of Thor. Not to think, with childlike desperation, he was alive when you saw him last, Thor is strong, he might have survived. He couldn’t afford to believe that. And it wouldn’t matter if Thanos got what he wanted.
“How far are we from this Vormir,” Valkyrie said.
“Another few hours.” Nebula’s voice was curt, but not exactly hostile.
“And are there weapons on this ship?”
She gestured toward the back, and Valkyrie turned on her heel and stalked in that direction. Loki looked down at his hands. He had his knives, of course. Always.
He kept going over those last few moments on The Statesman. What he could have done differently. What he should have done differently that might have gotten both him and Thor out alive - or at least Thor.
It should have been a relief that he couldn’t think of anything. It wasn’t.
“What changed,” he said.
“Are you talking to me,” Nebula said. Her voice was as harsh as he remembered. Thanos must have done something to damage her vocal cords, at some point. Hearing it sent a shiver of revulsion at remembered pain down his spine.
“Yes,” he said. “I am talking to you. What made you finally turn your back on your father?”
“None of your business.”
“I’d like to know why I should believe you aren’t just taking us to Thanos as prisoners.”
“If I was taking you to Thanos I would have just killed you,” Nebula said. “If I’d known it was you I was pulling onboard I would have.”
“Hey,” Valkyrie said, hefting a sizeable gun in one hand. “Watch it.”
Nebula made a disgusted noise and turned away from them both. Loki glanced at Valkyrie, eyebrows furrowing, and when she looked back at him he read determination and rage and a sort of desperation in her eyes. Like she expected something from him.
Don’t, Loki wanted to scream. I’ll only fail you. As I failed Thor.
“She’s not going to now,” Loki said. “And if you try...you’ll find me much harder to subdue than when I was your father’s captive.” It was largely bravado. He was weak after the fight on the Statesman, after dueling Proxima and Corvus, after crafting a double of himself. Drained by the memory of Thor on his knees, screaming, running toward his brother as the ship disintegrated around them and Thor just lay there sobbing over his seeming corpse, making no move to save himself.
A knife slid in under Loki’s ribs and slit him open. He staggered, and Valkyrie caught him.
“Lackey,” she said lowly.
“I’m fine,” he said, but she ignored him, depositing him on a seat and standing next to him, glaring at the back of Nebula’s head as she ignored them both.
#conversating#anonymous#fic excerpt#loki's a goddamn mess#avengers: infinite denial#wow been a few years since that tag saw use#in case this becomes a thing i'm going to tag it#mcu fic amnesty
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LEX TALIONIS | ORSUS
orsus — a beginning, commencement, an undertaking, attempt
Masterlist | Taglist
listen while reading: it will come back - hozier
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader, Josh Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 24k (😘)
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, hookups, one night stands, fingering (f!receiving) oral (f!receiving), impact play, cum play, sir kink, dom/sub, bratty sub, praise, degradation, name calling, touch of spit play, lots and lots of dirty talk, mentions of free use kink, choking, biting, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, the briefest mention of oral (m!receiving), manipulation/manipulative phrases, gaslighting, toxic themes, an unbearable amount of flirting, talking bad about men, superiority complexes, mentions of toxic/bad past relationships/bad experiences with men, a conniving evil reader, mentions of cheating/infidelity/home wrecking, mentions of addictions/substance abuse, mentions of death/dying, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!
Here it is, I hope you enjoy my loves 🤍 (lightly edited)
According to Wikipedia, brotherhood is an ethical relationship between people, which is based on love and solidarity. According to the Oxford Dictionary, it is the feeling of kinship with and closeness to a group or all people. To the core, brotherhood is family, whether blood or not. A brother is someone you would give your life for at the drop of a dime, someone who you would protect with your life and avenge with a fervor. You can be siblings, cut from the same cloth and raised side by side, yet never once feel such things. You can meet a person on the sidewalk amidst the city chaos and feel for them in a moment, what you could not feel for someone else in a lifetime. Brotherhood is not a right, but a privilege, and one so sacred that not many are truly deserving of the title.
For Joshua and Jacob, brotherhood began in the womb, and carried on well into their adult lives. In this particular instance, deserving was not nearly a good enough descriptor for the men in question.
Two souls destined to be infinitely intertwined and lucky enough to be born as twins. For the pair, loyalty was without question and love was always abundant. Since their first minute on earth, they knew that the world would always seem less cruel when there was someone to depend on walking beside you every step of the way. In their younger years, they were akin in so many ways that it was hard to comprehend by times, and as the years passed, it only further proved the two were identical in more ways than just physical. Morals, attitudes and interests were shared, as well as dreams and desires. Even in their differences, they were determined to support each others dreams as if it were their very own aspirations.
The love the two had for each other was hard to comprehend, especially if you had never felt something so strongly before, and sometimes, it was easy to feel jealousy at the sight of the two together. It appeared as though they were the only two people in the world, and the only person the other cared about. Although their bond was strong, they had room in their hearts for more than just each other. Despite their differences, and the fact that they understood each other best, they both loved fiercely and deeply, and that love extended far beyond themselves. They loved their siblings, their parents, and their friends. They loved the bugs burrowing in the soil in the front yard, and the birds that flew overhead. They loved the trees and the rivers, the flowers and even the pesky weeds that grew at an unprecedented rate.
Love, by times, seemed like the only thing the two boys knew how to do. As they grew, so did their hearts, and that was one thing that never seemed to flee them.
When they lost their childlike nature, turning into awkward pre-teens with gangly limbs and cracking voices, the differences began to emerge. Jake, who loved to pick away at his father’s old guitar, seemed to take the side of reservation. He watched often, yet only spoke sometimes (unless of course, he cornered you with a topic that he had a staggering amount of passion for). He fell in love with the six stringed instrument, and all of the girls in his grade in high school. He was shy, but he was always lending an ear to anyone in need. Often quick with a joke and developing an awful habit for flirting, he seemed to make everyone fall in love with him without ever needing to try. His mystery aided his charm, and cemented his memory in people's minds.
Josh, who did not care who you were or where you came from, would talk your ear off about anything and everything that came to mind. His smile was always bright, and his heart was written on his sleeve. He took to the theater, and sang along to whatever song Jake had learned to play that week. He was a socialite who loved company, and seemed to bring out the extrovert in Jake when the two spent enough time in close proximity. He too, made people fall in love but for much different reasons than his brother. He was kind, generous, and extravagant. People fell because it was hard to keep your eyes off of him.
The sun and the moon respectively, making the whole world fall to their feet without ever realizing it.
As they grew into young adults, their personalities seemed to stick, only ever growing more intense as the days went on. Although the two seemed to have grown into different people, if you cared to look close enough, the similarities were not hard to find. In their faces, of course, it was not hard to tell that they were twin brothers, but it was more than that. In the warm brown of their irises, when they looked at you for too long, the same feeling would wash over you; like comfort on a cold day, or sleep to the exhausted. Their charm, unruly yet soft and subtle, would sneak up on you and sink its claws deep into your skin before you would even notice. In their touch, the same searing sensation and intoxicating feeling. The two were more alike than what showed on the surface, and you could easily find it if you had enough dedication to discovery.
More than anything else, their bond steadily grew stronger as they grew older. Brotherhood to them was not a title, nor was it a given. It was a lifestyle, and something they chose to do every minute of every day. Caring, loving, and understanding each other was of great importance to them, and it certainly was not easy work. They could have succumbed to sibling rivalry, quarrels that carried over into adulthood and bred resentment, but it was not something that they wanted for themselves. Their relationship was of utmost importance, and they made sure that anyone who stepped foot into their lives understood the requirement of loving both of them just the same.
They would always be each other’s biggest supporters, cheering them on in every aspect of life. They would be best friends, there to share every moment of happiness and suffer through every failure. They would be the ones to dish out the hard truths, and the harshest advice when needed. They were anchors, keeping each other grounded when life began to spin out of control. It was important for them to maintain the strength of their relationship, especially when living such a crazy and difficult lifestyle. Traveling the world and playing music was a dream come true, but it was even more so to them because they could share it with the people they cared about most, but it was strenuous and tiresome. It was easy to get buried under the stress and neglect their own health and wellbeing. It was easy for relationships to fail and for people to forget about them while they were gone for months at a time, which was exactly why family was so important to them. Without each other, they would crack and crumble under the pressure of the world.
A love like such only comes once in a lifetime, and the two felt incredibly lucky to be able to have it from the moment that they were born, until the very last breath. Even after death, they knew that their love would carry on, and they would search for each other in every lifetime to come. A bond so strong was not something to take for granted, and not something that you would ever want to let go of.
On the other hand, there are some people in the world who simply can not comprehend what it’s like to feel such a bond, nor can they comprehend how to care for someone more, or even equally to how they feel about themselves. You can call it narcissistic, but in some cases, it’s rarely ever that intense. It boils down to the fact of routine, and in some instances, people spend years without ever meeting anyone who could make them feel so strongly. Decades spent on their lonesome, having to stand up for themselves and watch over their own shoulder with nobody else to help carry the burden. Countless days of loneliness, constantly attempting to find new ways to cope and distract. Never anyone to share the success with, and no shoulder to cry on when times get tough. After a while, the idea of letting someone else experience such things alongside you becomes more of a fear than it is a comfort.
These people, as we have all have met, are known best as sharks or snakes; always awaiting the chance to steal an opportunity for themselves, and forever willing to throw someone else under the bus to achieve it. They are crude, unapologetic, and arrogant creatures who are often perceived as the enemy. In most instances, they are, and it is important to know that although sad, the reasoning behind their actions does not excuse their behavior. They are usually aware of their own actions, and most of the time, have little care for the people they hurt in the process. After all, how can you care about another when you’ve spent an entire lifetime only ever concerned about yourself?
You, a lovely woman on the surface, yet a nightmare just below, was a prime example of such evil.
You had spent an entire lifetime trying to find someone who made your heart beat faster. You longed to find someone who could turn your world upside down, or even someone who would promise to stick by your side during the hardest of times. Quickly, you understood that most people were willing to promise, but never follow through. In your younger years, you had your heart broken and your earth shattered by men and female friends who did not truly care about you as a person. For some time, you continued on the search despite the aching of your own chest, dedicated to knowing someone completely and wholly. After a while, you began to realize that the likelihood of finding such a person was near zero.
So, once you moved to a new city and started over, you decided that life could only begin again if every part of you was reinvented. At first, it was difficult to train your brain to think differently than it always had, but in truth, it did not take too long before you had learned the art of simply not caring. You realized that your heart had been your downfall the whole time; the relentless pining, the constant searching, and the endless begging for someone to love you. Other people had never been your issue, because you should have known better than to put your trust in anyone other than yourself. By closing yourself off and leaving dependency behind, you had managed to find happiness after all, and it did not come in the form of a man with a bouquet of flowers in his hand and sweet nothings stuck in his teeth.
Instead of being the victim of heartbreak, you had turned yourself into a heartbreaker. It was a cruel world that was only survivable if you were crueler, so you did what you had to do. The first few times were trial and error; you took people on dates and brought them back to your apartment for nothing further than mediocre sex. In the morning, you pushed them out the door with a smile, and answered a few texts here and there until you found the courage to cut them off. Every so often, you caved and fell back into your old habits, feeling guilty for being so harsh. You’d let them come back for another night of unfulfillment and only then would you find the courage to hit the block button.
Eventually, it became easier, and much more fun. You learned to seek out the men who you knew would be good in bed, rather than the ones who claimed to be good in bed. The quiet ones, talking sweetly and sometimes even nervously seemed to be the ones with the most breathtaking performances. You were nicer than you wanted to be, but after a while, even that seemed to flee you, too. You became witty, smart-mouthed and bold, testing your limits with every interaction. Your sharp tongue and your fiery eyes made people fall to your feet, and you began to understand that playing nice had never got you what you wanted. Now, sex was the only thing that caught your attention, and good sex was the only thing that could keep your attention. Rarely did you ever find yourself looking for a second date or a lasting relationship, and the longer you continued on your warpath, the more you felt like you were losing your humanity.
Men at bars appeared less as people, and more like conquests. It quickly turned into a game for you, and remorse was an emotion you no longer knew how to feel. Occasionally, you would make bets with your only acquaintances you’d made since moving to the city, just to see how fast you could get someone in your bed (or better, the bathroom). It was fun for you, but every man you left behind seemed dazed and confused, wondering if the moment was real or only a figment of their imagination. They only had a first name, never a last and definitely no phone number to call. You cashed out your earnings on cheap tequila shots and moved on to the next bar before they could catch up to you.
To some, it was a sad lifestyle to live, yet you never seemed to see the issue. You were so angry and bitter about the poor treatment you had received in the past that it blinded you enough to ignore the damage you caused. Then again, it was uncertain that if you did know how much turmoil you had caused, if you would even feel bad about it at all. You’d taken a liking to your newest personality, one in which you always got what you want and did not back down until you had it, and one in which your needs were always met first. After twenty some odd years of being on the receiving end of pain, you didn’t mind dishing it out every now and again.
After all, not every person who fell victim to your charm was upset with the lack of a second date. Most were quite content with a simple hookup, and you were certain that plenty were even in search of that alone. The ones that did get their feelings hurt were most likely over it in the morning, and the girlfriends of your conquests should have realized how terrible their boyfriends were long before you were ever involved in the equation. Not your man, not your problem, as you liked to believe.
Whatever could be used as an excuse for your abhorrent actions was made into one of your many personal mantras.
And so it was a Saturday night, the summer heat sweltering outside the Nashville bar and pooling inside every time the door was opened. The music was loud, the bass pounding in your ear drums and rattling your bones. The spot was busy, but no more than it usually was, and you were lined up at the counter with your aforementioned acquaintances while you waited to be served. Although, acquaintance was a strong term for the people you regularly spent time with, as they were no more than strangers who you drank with at the bar every now and again. The only reason you could stand to be around each other was because you adorned the same poisonous outlook, and your feelings could not be hurt when you were already prepared for the worst.
“Look, there’s one for you, Olivia.” You pointed across the room to a tall man hovering by the dance floor. He had a beer gripped tightly in his hand as he overlooked the crowd, hoping to find a potential suitor.
“Why don’t you want him?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked in the direction you were pointing to.
“We just got here. I have to keep my options open, and he’s not my type.” You chuckled, neglecting any form of eye contact with her. You played the same trick on her every time you went out, and she hadn’t seemed to catch on to it yet. Her fragile ego made it easy to convince her to take the average looking ones so you could save the best for yourself. “Besides, he’s your type, isn’t he? Tall, blonde…” you trailed off, refusing to mention his mediocre looks and his apparent lack of brains.
“Yeah, I guess he is.” She nodded, flashing you a smile. “Thanks!”
There were two types of women who loved the lifestyle you had chosen for yourself; those who had too much self confidence, and those who had been stripped of it and were in desperate search of it.
“Anytime.” You forced a smile, trying to keep up the facade that it was out of the kindness of your heart. You turned back towards the bartender, staring him down in hopes he would reach you faster. He was busy serving a plethora of drinks to a group of young girls who you doubted were of legal drinking age. When he finished up, he caught your eye and you gave him a smile, doing everything you could to convince him to serve you next. Luckily, it seemed to draw him in, and within seconds he was walking your way.
“What can I get you, darlin’?” He asked, his southern accent hanging thick in the air as he took his time looking you up and down. He was young, but still seemed a bit older than you. He had a cute smile, and a seemingly muscular build. Attractive, but definitely not what you were in search of. You leaned forward over the bar top slightly, ensuring he could get a good look down the front of your low cut dress, hoping the sight would persuade him to give you the first drink on the house.
It didn’t work all of the time, but definitely enough for you to try your luck.
“Double vodka cranberry, please.” You gave a soft smile, batting your eyelashes a time or two to add some extra sweetness. “And a shot of tequila, too.” He took a long look over your face, taking in the sultry stare and the subtle gloss on your lips. The small upturn of the corners of your mouth led him to believe that you were up to no good, but the mischief sparkling in your eyes intrigued him beyond belief. Paired with the soft skin exposed on your neck and chest, illuminated even under the dim bar light, he was enamoured enough to trip over himself to please you.
“Anything else?” He asked, looking up to meet your eyes.
“No, I think that’s fine for now.” You assured him. Without any further comment, he turned towards the wall of alcohol to grab the bottle of vodka. You drummed your fingers against the tabletop as you watched him mix your drink, biting back a smirk as you watched him overpour the shots ever so slightly. When he turned around, you pretended to search through your purse to grab your card. As your fingers closed around the thin plastic, he held his hand out to stop you.
“First one’s on me.” He smiled.
“Are you sure?” You questioned half-heartedly, trying to feign some air of surprise.
“Positive.” He assured you, sliding them your way.
“Thanks, honey.” You flashed a smile, sliding the shot glass and salt shaker towards you. You licked the back of your hand, shaking a few grains of salt on to it before grabbing the tequila. As you raised the shot glass to your lips, you licked the salt off your skin and threw your head back, swallowing down the liquid. Before the taste could overwhelm you, you placed the lime wedge between your lips and sucked the juice from it. You placed the glass back down on the table, sending the bartender a subtle wink upon realizing he was watching the whole ordeal. Without another word, you grabbed your mixed drink and took a sip from it, washing the harsh tequila from your tongue.
As you turned around, you intended to step away from the bar and make your way towards the small stage, where there looked to be a band preparing their instruments for a soundcheck. Before you could, your eyes landed upon something much more intriguing than the amateur music group hoping to make their big break. There was a man, not very tall, yet appeared to be the most attention grabbing thing in the entire room, and inexplicably charismatic without even knowing it. He was not looking in your direction, but you wished he was, and upon catching sight of his soft and inviting features, you knew you would make it a point to make him notice you before the night was through. The dumb blonde nursing his third beer and already bordering intoxication was not your type, nor was the overly flirty bartender, but whoever was standing amidst the chaos of the crowd, whiskey glass tucked neatly in his hand and brown hair flowing gracefully off his shoulder, definitely was.
He was in blue jeans that appeared to be very worn. The knees and thighs had turned near white with how thin the denim had grown. The fabric hung from his figure slightly, cuffed at his ankles to show off the expensive looking brown boots he was wearing. On his upper half was a black button up, only tucked into his jeans on one side while the other hung down loosely over his hip. The top two buttons were undone, showing a flash of tanned skin from his chest. It made your mouth water, and it made you curious to see the rest of him. His face, when you finally had the opportunity to see the whole picture, seemed to take your breath away. His smile held a playful joy that was almost infectious, and his eyes were warm and only ever seemed to draw you in further.
You decided at that moment, it was imperative that you take the opportunity that was presented to you.
You were never one to jump first, but this time, you couldn’t seem to resist the temptation. Usually, you loved drawing them into you, to enchant them enough to make them approach you. You thought it was entertaining to watch them stutter over their words as they tried to persuade you of their intent. This time, you knew that this was a game where time was of essence, and if you did not jump at the chance, someone else would definitely beat you to it. You weren’t sure about his game, or if he was one with undying loyalty to a woman who did not want to be with him that night. You were unsure if he was already stuck in a game of flirtation with another woman at the bar, or if maybe, you were not his type at all. No matter, you still believed it to be your best bet to try, because leaving without a piece of him was not something you were willing to do, or at least do happily.
You drew in a long breath, swiping your tongue over your front teeth to ensure there was no lipstick smudged on them. Then, you ran a finger through your curled hair, arranging it neatly to frame your face. You took a sip of your drink, surveying the area to determine what the best move would be. He was next to a taller man with curly hair and a big nose, who was without a doubt, just as attractive. You decided that if you could not have your first choice, he would do it for you just the same.
A break in conversation allowed for you to make your move; the nameless boy turned away from his company for a moment, and then the taller boy seemed to abandon him in search of a booth on the other side of the bar. Before you could think up a line to deliver as you approached him, he took a step in your direction. Your stomach fluttered nervously and your heart sped as he continued moving towards the bar. You weren’t ready, but you weren’t willing to let it stop you from getting what you wanted. Instead, you turned towards the bar again and changed your course of action. You prayed that he would do exactly as you expected and come to stand beside you, because only then would you be able to make the first move.
After a few seconds of uncertainty, you had to bite back a smile when you felt a body present itself next to you. Immediately, before you even turned your head, you were hit with an intoxicating scent. Woody and deep, almost as if amber was delicately laced between the notes of sandalwood. Even with the heaviness, there seemed to be something light, almost like a citrus or a flowery smell. As if in an instant, your switch was flipped and you were ready to play. Slowly, you turned your head to the side and casted a careful glance at him. He had an empty glass in his hand, the ice melting due to the warmth of his palm surrounding it. Now that he was next to you, you could see the subtle gold of a hoop earring settled on his lobe, and a chain dangling loosely over his collarbones. There was a bracelet around his wrist and a ring sat on his middle finger. Suddenly you were overwhelmed by the idea of his fingers closed around your neck instead of the cup, and your stomach twisted into a knot.
The bartender seemed to be completely immersed in something, failing to notice his new customer. You smiled to yourself, wondering if you could use it to your advantage. The man had yet to notice your interest, and you were happy to keep it that way for a moment. The same bartender who had served you moments before passed by, not even giving the boy a second thought. He seemed to shift uncomfortably on his feet as he raised a hand to call him over, almost as if he was nervous to be rude. The bartender looked up for a moment, but continued on doing his previous task.
‘Perfect,’ you thought, sipping from your drink. The situation seemed to be resolving itself as the man beside you lowered his arm in defeat, tapping his fingers against the wood grain as he patiently waited his turn. You observed him as he did so, pitying him only slightly for his lack of confidence. You began to wonder if he was timid in all areas of his life, and if he was, how easy it would be to break him free from that chain. When the bartender took a step in your direction, intending to move past you to the customers at the other end of the line, you raised a hand to him and gave a sickly sweet smile. His eyes gave a sparkle as they landed upon your face, and his attention was quickly focused on nothing other than you. He cut towards you, ready to take your order again.
“Another shot?” He asked, already half-turned to grab the tequila bottle. You have a chuckle, shaking your head at him.
“My friend wanted to order, actually.” You said, nodding your head towards the boy beside you. “But I’ll take a shot too, once he gets his drink.”
“Oh, sure thing.” He said, averting his gaze to the person next to you instead. You felt a pair of eyes burning into you, but you did not want to look yet. Instead of addressing your notion of friendship, he cleared his throat and smiled at the man across the counter. He waited a moment before he spoke, wondering if you might have anything else to say. Eventually, he began to order and you listened intently to hear the sound.
“Double shot of Woodford, please.” He said, his tone low and gravelly. You could not ignore the rush of emotion that flooded you from the simple sound alone. “And I’ll get hers, too.” Now, you couldn’t resist the temptation to look at him. You shifted in place, turning towards him ever so slightly and catching his eye. Now that he was looking straight at you, his gaze heavy and his face close, you knew you had made the right choice. He was the only person in the whole bar that would be able to affect you with something as simple as a shared glance.
“Woodford?” You asked, your lip turning up into a smirk. “Expensive taste.”
“I can say the same about you.” He said, watching the bartender reach for a bottle of Don Julio. You gave a slight shrug, brushing off the comment. “Friends, eh?” He asked, addressing your earlier comment.
“Just figured you might want a drink.” You said, elusive to the real reason you’d called the bartender over. “Didn’t seem like he was very eager to serve you.”
“‘Preciate it, sweetheart.” He said, grabbing his drink from the counter as it was served. He swirled the ice around the glass for a moment, pondering his next words. “If we’re friends, I s’pose it would be nice to know your name.”
“Are you asking ‘cause you want to know, or ‘cause you feel like you have to?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as a shot was placed in front of you. Seconds later, a lime wedge and salt shaker was placed next to it. You looked over at him, noticing that he was still watching you. You’d caught his attention, and in the exact way you had been hoping to.
“I wouldn’t’ve asked if I didn’t care.” He said, taking a sip of the amber liquid in his cup. “I’ve never been the type to entertain people I’m not interested in.” He had a drawl to his words that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. It didn’t sound like a southern accent, but then again, neither did your own. Perhaps both of you had come to Nashville to find a new life.
“So you’re interested?” You smirked, turning your head fully towards him now. He didn’t respond, instead taking another sip. “Y/n.” You said, smiling at his strong attitude. You liked it, and you appreciated the forward response. It made your job so much easier. “You?”
“Jake.” He said, seemingly pleased with your words. “And to answer your question, yes.” He grinned, setting his glass back down on the table. You took the opportunity to think over your next move while taking the shot he’d so kindly bought for you. You placed the empty shot glass back on the counter, sucking the juice from the lime as the burn traveled from your chest to the pit of your stomach.
“Jake,” You pondered the name, imagining nothing good as it infiltrated your mind. You imagined how it would sound, laced delicately around your tongue with his head between your legs. You wondered how it would hang in the air, heavy amidst the desire that would surround you two. “I like it.” You deducted, understanding that all of the aforementioned things would come to life before the night was through.
“I’m glad.” He let out a small laugh, looking over your face for a moment. There was a twinkle in his eye that you couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t mischievous, but almost seemed to be devious, like he was thinking and planning the exact same things you were. “Are you here with anyone tonight?”
“That depends.” You said, taking a sip from your straw, washing down the bitter lime and lingering tequila. “What kind of company are you wondering about?” You looked over at him, noticing his eyes still lingering over you. He gave you a small smirk, understanding that elusiveness was a part of your charm. He didn’t seem bothered by your indirect response, and if anything, he found it intriguing.
“The kind that takes you home with them at the end of the night.” His counter for your mystique was to be blunt, which did catch you off guard. For someone who seemed timid at a distance, he was awfully forward now that you were speaking. It made you wonder if you misjudged, or if he was hiding that part of him particularly well. You decided that if he was hiding it, it was for a reason, and one that you were rather eager to know about.
“No,” You shook your head. You debated elaborating, but decided to bite your tongue instead.
“Are you looking for someone to take you home, sweetheart?” He asked, pressing further as you watched him. “Is that why you were trying to get my attention?” You tried to keep a straight face as you pieced together his words. At face value, you took it as a general inquiry about the bartender, but you knew people better than to take anything at face value. He meant something deeper, but you didn’t want to mention it. You had faith in your ability to get him to cave, first.
“Wouldn’t say I was looking for your attention, honey. Seems as though it just happened.” You lied through your teeth, letting the accusation roll off your shoulders with ease. One of your biggest flaws was always responding to things as if it were an attack, and your defense was up; you wanted him, but not enough to bend to his will. You’d learned a long time ago that desperation was not a good look for you, and you much preferred it on someone else’s face.
“No?” He questioned, calling your bluff. “So you’re telling me you weren’t watching me earlier?” A prickle of indignation was felt in your spine as he spoke and you felt the need to correct him, even if he was right.
“Sneaky.” You muttered, your eyes flickering to his hand still wrapped around the glass. You couldn’t give up now, because that would leave him with the upper hand. Arguing seemed to be what he was hoping for, just so he could put you in your place, so you did the opposite; you admitted to the fact, but only to regain control of the situation. “You caught me.” You shrugged your shoulders, giving him an innocent smile. “So, what now?”
“Nothing,” he chuckled. “Just wanted to hear you say it.” You rolled your eyes at him, but it was playful. Something about him was less bothersome; if anyone else were to be playing the same cards, you would have walked away, but he had an odd sort of charm about him. Plus, his face certainly didn’t hurt the case. “That didn’t answer my first question, though.” He said, his gaze growing slightly stronger. “Are you looking for someone to take you home?”
“Is that an offer, or just your curiosity getting the best of you again?” He gave another low chuckle at your reluctance to answer.
“Both.” His answer was curt, but you appreciated it. “If you’re interested, of course.” Normally, you would have made him chase you a bit, or work a little harder than what he’d already done. Other times, you would have jumped his bones so fast that he wouldn’t know what hit him, just to leave him alone to ponder all that happened in the short time. Right now, you did not feel like doing either of those things. He had piqued your interest in the best possible way, and for once, you felt like talking, even if it was going to lead to the same old outcome.
In another universe, maybe you even would have bent your rules for him and pursued something more.
But, of course, fantasizing about an alternative universe is only ever harmful in the long run, especially if you aren’t willing to put in the work to alter the universe you’re already stuck in.
And you, a secret romantic buried deep under the surface who covered their own heartbreak by becoming a player, had never once considered putting in the work to change.
After all, why would you ever want to change when playing dirty was so much fun?
“I’ve never been the type of person to entertain someone I’m not interested in.” You smirked, throwing back the last of your drink as you let him digest his own words that you’d thrown so powerfully back in his face. As much as it seemed like a lie, it was not; you would never entertain a man you did not want to be with. You only cared for leading them on enough to get what you wanted, then pretending they did not exist.
“Happy to see we’re on the same page, then.” He chuckled, seeming like he wanted to move closer to you, but he held himself back.
“Where are you from, Jake?” You asked, taking the step for him and scooting a little closer. It was not enough to touch him, but there was a notable difference in space between you now.
“Michigan.” He smiled, showing appreciation for your efforts to be closer. “And you?”
“Atlanta.” You responded, flagging the bartender over for another drink. “You’re a long way from home.” You noted, watching as the worker took your used glass and turned to mix you another. “What made you decide to live here?”
“Work.” He replied, sipping away at his own beverage. Now that you were closer, the smell of his cologne seemed to be suffocating you, but it was with great pleasure to succumb to such an end.
“Must be a good job if you were willing to move so far.” He gave a small smile, nodding his head after a moment.
“You can say that.” The look in his eyes made you believe it was no ordinary office job, nor a regular paycheck that motivated him.
“Was it a job, or was it a dream?” You pressed further, studying his expression.
“Both, I suppose.” He replied, curious about how easily you picked up on it. “I’m in a band.” You could not deny your interest in the topic, nor your personal infatuation with musicians in general. You should have guessed, but somehow it was so much sweeter coming from his mouth. Everything seemed to be sweeter when he was the one saying it. “What are you here for?”
“To start over.” You shrugged. “New place, new people… new everything.”
“What were you trying to get away from?” The question struck a sore spot, but you tried not to let it show. You liked to view your move as something brave, rather than a cowardly act. When he worded it as such, it made it seem like you were running out of fear rather than confidence.
“I wouldn’t say I was running from anything. More or less just looking for something more.” You explained.
“Have you found it yet?” The question was a loaded one, and you weren’t sure if you had the answer he was looking for. The conversation seemed to run deeper than anything you were intending, yet you didn’t seem to mind. Usually when at the bar, especially with a man, the conversation revolved around sexual desires and painful flirting. This one was different, and it seemed like he wanted to see into your soul before ever taking your clothes off. You hated to admit it, but you didn’t mind it.
You hadn’t found what you were looking for when you moved to the city, but you had definitely convinced yourself otherwise. When you made the big move, you were young and naive. You had been desperately in love with the idea of love despite never knowing what it actually felt like. As you decorated a new apartment with memorabilia of a different lifetime, you fantasized about replacing it with love letters and pictures of a man you had yet to meet. You went to bed nightly with a melancholy hanging over the room and a longing for a life you were never destined to live. That was what you had been in search of, and instead, you had given up. You filled the void with sex and money, drinking away the bitter taste of your own failure and falling into bed with people who did not matter. It was a sad exchange, and no real replacement for the fulfillment you once craved, yet you had been doing it for so long now that it was the only thing you knew how to do.
Although it was nice for someone to pick your brain for once, and it was thrilling to finally be faced with stimulating conversation, you were a creature of habit. It was too risky to give too much of yourself away, even if you liked all you had seen from Jake. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but you were too selfish to let him go. You needed the notch in your belt, even if you were sacrificing his heart in the process. You needed to regain control of the conversation, to hold the power in your hands once more, and you knew you wouldn’t have to work very hard for it. As you conjured the best response to his question, you almost felt a shred of guilt about using him for your own personal gain. You decided that out of all of them, his heart would be the hardest to break.
“Not yet, but I’m sure I will, someday.” You whispered, knowing that what you had been searching for was long out of reach for you. You had sinned so much that a simple lifestyle of love would never be in the cards for you. You had made your bed, and it was time to lie in it.
“Maybe I can help with that.” He said, his voice dropping ever so slightly. He was curious about you, and how after only minutes of knowing you, he could not imagine a world in which you did not exist. You drew him in so easily that he could not question whether it was a good idea or not. He found you inexplicably easy to need.
“Maybe so, rockstar.” You smiled up at him, knowing he could not. He could help with plenty of other things, but never that.
“Am I keeping you from anyone?” He asked, looking around the crowded bar for a moment, realizing he may have been taking you away from friends. You let out a chuckle, shaking your head.
“No, am I?”
“Definitely not.” He promised. “I’m here with my brothers. I see them enough—they can wait.”
“Don’t be like that, now.” You laughed. “You can find me later, when they’re drunk enough that they don’t notice you’re missing.” Even if you tried to make yourself seem heartless, it didn’t feel right cutting in on his family time. Humanity was something you didn’t often feel, but he seemed to pull on strings of your heart you no longer believed to exist. “I promise I’ll stick around.”
“No way,” he laughed, brushing you off. “I’d much rather get to know you, sweetheart. Plus, it saves me a headache from bickering with them all night.”
“Alright, if you’re sure.” Hesitation was still present in your voice, but if he was certain about it, you couldn’t find anything to complain about. Part of your hesitation stemmed from the fact that you did not want your night to be cut short by any distractions. The bar bathroom did not seem fitting for all you wanted to do with him, and if it took letting him go for a while to have him until the sun came up in the sky, you were okay with it.
“If you’re that worried, why don’t you come over and drink with us?” He offered, mistaking your reluctance as something selfless. Then again, he could not be upset if he were to discover your true intent, for his own was just as selfish. He feared that if he left you on your lonesome, someone else would catch your eye and he would lose his chance. Besides, inviting you to drink with the group wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had. In fact, he thought it might be quite enjoyable.
“Taking me to meet the family already?” You teased. “I must be special.” His lips upturned slightly, drawing your attention to the mustache that decorated his upper lip. It made his already beautiful face all the more remarkable.
“You certainly are, angel.” He affirmed your statement, seemingly gravitating towards you the longer he held your gaze. “You did catch my attention, after all.” Before you knew it, his face was inches away from your own. He looked down at you over his nose, his eyelashes casting a slight shadow over his reddened cheeks, burning from the alcohol he was drinking. The smell of his cologne mixed with the whiskey on his breath was turning you into a mess, insanity calling your name the longer you stayed in the position.
“Takes a lot to do that, eh?” You asked, you voice barely heard over the sound of your hearts beating in time.
“Some would say so.” He smiled, warmer and less flirtatious than the ones before. He knew he had you how he wanted you, and he felt as though he could let go of the act for a moment. The tip of his nose was brushing against your own, making the temptation almost too much to resist. You wondered if he would strike first, or if you would have to take the risk yourself. He was a flirt, and seemingly just as big of one as you were, but you weren’t sure how deep his confidence truly lied. He’d known you for all but a half a drink, yet your claws seemed to strike deep. He was trapped, and he could run, but would always look back over his shoulder to ensure you were following.
“Have I caught your attention enough for you to kiss me?” You asked, your tone quiet but your words impactful. His hand reached out for your hip, his fingers settling gently over the silky material of your dress. The touch felt good, but it was not nearly enough. Above all, it perpetuated a vicious cycle, for you knew that a touch so addictive would not be something you could walk away from.
Perhaps Jake Kiszka was not the one trapped, and for once, you had backed yourself into a corner at the hands of his irresistible sin.
You knew better than to seek someone with the same deadly power, but you could not manage to keep yourself away. He’d kept it so well hidden that you failed to realize his power until the very minute his skin met your own.
He leaned forward, the gap closing between you as his lips landed on your own. The violence was disguised with sweetness, and wrapped up in a bow of desire. The faint taste of the whiskey he was drinking was dancing on your tongue, drawing you in alongside the warmth of his body. You raised your hand to his cheek, cupping it in your palm as his hand guided you into him. You had never experienced a feeling so overwhelming, and the sensation of his tongue gliding over your lower lip, begging to push any boundaries, was so powerful it nearly shattered your psyche. In an instant, you forgot about your plan to take him home and instead were plagued with an imminent need for him. You worried that you might not be able to make it to the bathroom with his hand so powerfully holding you in place. In that moment, you needed Jake more than you had ever needed anything in your entire life.
As he pulled away, you fought the urge to pull him right back in. He did not move too far away, almost as if he was waiting for you to do exactly that. “Is that the answer you were looking for?” It was the exact answer you were hoping for, and the two of you felt no need to go any further with formalities. You knew what you wanted, and waiting seemed pointless. Before the night was through, he would have you, and whether then be in a bed or the bathroom, he was not sure.
“A simple yes or no would have done the same.” You teased, running your thumb tentatively over the soft skin of his cheek. He seemed to lean into the touch, making your hesitation disappear.
“Right,” he chuckled, still a bit dazed from the intensity of the moment. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
“No,” you shook your head. “No need for that.” He couldn’t help but laugh at your response, leaning in and placing a shorter, sweeter kiss on your lips.
“Something to get you through meeting my brothers,” he explained, as if he needed an excuse to kiss you at all.
“Is that so?” You grinned. “They’re that bad?”
“No, not bad, just a lot.” He corrected, his hand still lingering on your hip. “Was hoping that if I kissed you, it would give you a reason to stick around.”
“I’m sure it’ll be quite alright. No need to stress yourself out, honey.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He sighed, wishing that he never brought up the idea at all. He would much rather stay at the bar, alone with you to do anything you wanted. With that, he pulled back from you and grabbed his drink from the counter. You did the same, watching him as he stepped away. Suddenly, a flood of fear ran through you and reached out, grabbing his arm before he could go any further. He gave you a confused expression, wondering what was wrong as you stepped towards him. You raised your hand to his face, letting your thumb swipe away some smudged lipstick decorating his lower lip.
“Don’t think pink is your color.” You giggled, releasing your hold on him.
“You sure?” He questioned. “I’m think I can pull it off.”
“Uh-huh,” you nodded, grabbing your drink from the counter. “Whatever you say, rockstar.” You said, waiting for him to lead the way.
“What, you really don’t think so?” He asked, extending his arm out to you. You joined him at his side, watching as he surveyed the room in an attempt to locate the booth his brothers were sat in. After a moment, he seemed to brighten up as his eyes landed on a booth with three people sat inside.
“Who knows, you could surprise me.” You replied, finding yourself looking in the same direction his eyes were pointing. As you did, it felt like you’d received a harsh blow to the stomach, nearly doubling over in shock as your gaze fixated on the booth. You knew it to be the right one because the curly headed boy from earlier was sitting at the edge of one bench, laughing at something the boy beside him had said. Across from him, though, was a side profile that was so stunning it nearly stole the air from your lungs. In an attempt to make sense of it, you looked over at Jake, recognizing the similarities instantly.
You were stuck wondering if it was a joke, or a perfectly wrapped present placed at your feet by the universe itself. The evil that normally ran through your veins seemed to increase tenfold as you understood that the door had opened for you to have access to not just a gorgeous, outlandishly charming man, but a set of (outstandingly beautiful) twins.
As Jake looked back at you, you covered your expression of joy in an instant, understanding that if you were going to pull it off, you needed to be as thorough and precise about your actions as possible. You did not want to pull one just to fumble the other, nor did you want to lose both of them in the process. Before you spoke, you chose your words incredibly carefully.
“I’m nervous,” you forced a small smile, trying your best to appear anxious as you spoke.
“What are you nervous about, angel?” He asked, stepping closer to you and seemingly falling straight into the trap.
“What if they don’t like me?” You offered, glancing over to the booth and back to him.
“Not possible, sweetheart. They’re quite easy to get along with. I’m sure they’ll love you.” He said, landing a gentle hand on your arm to reassure you.
“I want to go home with you tonight, Jake, but could we… keep it between ourselves? Just for now, at least.” You knew the words were incriminating, but you always had a plan in mind. If he responded the way you predicted, it would be easy enough from there.
“What, like it’s a bad thing?” He raised an eyebrow, trying to comprehend what your intent was.
“No, honey.” You shook your head, giving a small laugh. “Not that I usually kiss and tell anyway, but I’d rather them see me as a person, not just the girl their brother is trying to fuck. It changes the way you see people, sometimes.” You explained, looking carefully over his expression as you spoke. You tried to keep your words sweet, hoping it might sway him to see it your way, even if your way was not how you were presenting it. “Does that make sense?”
“It does, angel.” He nodded, giving you a smile. “We can do that, if it makes you feel more comfortable.”
“It does,” you let out a sigh, fake but clearly convincing. “Thank you.”
“You’ve got nothing to thank me for, sweetheart.” He said, moving his hand to the curve of you back as he guided you through the crowd. “At least not yet, anyway.” He said the second part much quieter, as if he was already ahead of the game of secrecy. You wondered if maybe he enjoyed it, or the idea of having you in private got him off even further. There was much left undiscovered about Jake, and you were excited to see more. More than anything, you were happy that the first phase of your plan had come to fruition so easily.
You allowed him to lead you towards the group of unnamed boys, only a small nervous stutter in your heart. This was something you feared might be beyond your capabilities, yet you could not ignore the urge to try. When a player is faced with a challenge, backing down is not an option, and when it came to the game, nobody was more committed than you were. The minute your eyes landed on the previously unmentioned twin brother, your heart was set upon the desire for both, and you had grown so selfish over the years that you had yet to feel a shred of remorse about it. You knew that caution was needed, and every moment needed to be carefully calculated. It was a daunting task that would make a weaker woman shy away, but you were confident in your own abilities. Try as you might, you could not turn down such an opportunity.
Jake loosened his grip on you as you drew near the end of your seclusion. As he approached the chatter-filled group, they turned to look at him. Their eyes didn’t take long to land on you, but once they did, they didn’t seem to want to leave. You were hyper aware of the skimpy dress hanging over your body, tasteful enough not to potray you as a slut, yet bold enough to catch ample amounts of attention. It did not come as a surprise when all of their gazes were not pointed at your face, but rather the peek of cleavage from the black material covering your chest, and soon after, the smooth and enticing skin of your legs.
“Found some extra company, Jacob?” If it was even possible, the curly headed boy who looked so similar to Jake was even more beautiful up close.
Much like his brother, the beauty seemed to sneak up on you, drawing you in from far away and stealing your life away without a second thought the minute you were within reach.
“Hope you don’t mind if I crash the party.” You gave him a sweet smile, hiding the hunger in your eyes so you did not scare him away.
“Not at all,” he said, sliding further into the booth to make room for the two of you. You sat first, allowing Jake to take the spot at the end of the table.
“She was here all by herself, figured she could use some friends.” Jake smirked, casting a sideways glance at you.
“Friends are plentiful, here.” The boy with long curly hair said, giving you a smile. “I’m Danny.”
“And I’m Sam, Jake’s brother.” The boy beside him cut in in as if he was afraid he’d be forgotten.
“Nice to meet you guys. I’m y/n.” You extended the sentiment, looking both of them over.
“And I’m Josh, also Jake’s brother.” The boy beside you spoke now, catching your attention and forcing you to look in his direction once again. His brown eyes were warmer than Jake’s, perhaps a tad bit friendlier. His hair was shaved down on the sides, and his cheeks were tinged with a blush from the alcohol he was drinking.
“A twin, perhaps?” You asked, hoping you were guessing correctly.
“How’d you know?” He raised an eyebrow, but did not seem surprised at the statement. He was intrigued by you, and his face did not hide the fact very well. The attraction was mutual, and you could read him like a book, much different than his brother. You held a cloud of desire around your head, and no man was privy to the reason why. It affected them all the same, and it was the reason why you were stuck in the situation you were in, now. Upon first glance, his twin brother felt all of the same things.
“Lucky guess.” You chuckled, taking in all of him that was up for offer. His clothes were a bit basic, yet seemed to suit him well. The long sleeved white sweater he was wearing appeared soft, and the cologne that radiated from him was mouth-watering. It was light, fresh smelling, like sage and cedar wood. Underneath that you could smell notes of long burnt out incense sticks that seemed to cling to the fibers of his clothing. He had on beige khakis, and even if his style was not exactly eye-catching, he pulled it off well. It was clean, concise, and did not draw attention away from his face that was seemingly crafted by gods.
“Takes one to know one?” He guessed, curious about your precise analysis of the two. You chuckled, shaking your head.
“No, just a good observer is all.” You replied. “Only child, actually.”
“Ah,” he hummed, his heavy-lidded eyes gazing curiously over your face. He was intrigued just as well as you were, which seemed to make your job so much easier. “Explains a lot, then. Nobody to keep you company, so you had to occupy yourself with watching everyone else.”
“I suppose you could put it that way.” You laughed, already beginning to notice the clear difference between the two. Josh was much more outgoing than his counterpart, with a goofy smile and booming voice. He seemed to say whatever was on his mind, whenever he wanted to. You weren’t sure if the liquor had any impact on that fact, or if he was like that all of the time. You were curious to know, and you knew that in due time, you would have all of the answers you wanted. “I think people are interesting.”
“That they are.” He agreed, sipping from a beer bottle in hand. “Am I interesting?” He was definitely drunk, but you did not mind; if anything, it seemed to rid you of the uncomfortable getting to know him phase.
“Incredibly.” You laughed, the sound filling the immediate air around you all and catching all of the attention. You were not afraid to admit to your own beauty, and how easy it was for you to catch attention. When you had a smile on your lips and a laugh stuck between your teeth, the genuine warmth pulled people in even further.
“I don’t know if I like how fast you answered that.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows with another grin lighting up his whole face.
“If it’s the truth, I don’t think it really matters if you like it or not.” You explained, keeping your tone light to match his. You tuned out of your conversation for a moment, just for long enough to gauge how Jake was taking to the two of you talking. Within seconds, you realized he was not even listening; he was stuck in a lighthearted argument with his brother across the table about something that seemed (to you, at least) incredibly unimportant. Once you were certain you were in the clear, you focused your attention on Josh again. Even after only a few seconds of looking elsewhere, his beauty seemed to smack you in the face with a newfound intensity, as if it was angry with you for not paying attention.
“Why are you here all alone, anyway?” Josh questioned, fidgeting with the corner of a napkin sat in front of him on the table.
“I figured spending a night at the bar would be better than sitting at home all alone.” You shrugged, knowing that you were only giving him half truths. Sitting there and flirting with him was the reason you came out alone, even if you did not know he would be the main subject of your focus beforehand. Well, one of them at least.
“And you were just lucky enough to run into a group as fun as us.” He added, making sure to motion towards the whole table as he spoke. He seemed as if he was big on talking with his hands, and it was a trait you thought was quite cute.
“Luck is a good word for it.” You agreed, deciding now that he’d invited you in, you could begin to seek out the weak spots of his strong personality. For a moment, you did not speak again. You took the time to study him in his entirety, but played it off as if you were invested in the bullshit argument still going down beside you.
His eyes were shining with amusement at his brother's butting heads, and his smile never faltered. You wondered if he was genuinely just happy all of the time, or if the breathtaking smile was a constant mask he’d learned how to perfect. He drummed his fingers against the tabletop with one hand as his other fidgeted with something else. It bounced between the aforementioned napkin and the waning edge of the beer bottle label. His foot tapped against the ground as well, every so often switching to a full on leg bounce. You had yet to confirm if it was anxiety making him jitter so badly, or if it was a surplus of energy. Either way, it seemed like he could get up at that very moment and run laps around the building.
There were silver earrings placed in different spots on his ear, yet the chains that dangled around his neck were gold. It was a contradiction to the way Jake wore his, with gold in his lobe and silver decoration on his chest. You thought it was interesting enough, but nothing worthwhile enough for you to remember. He hummed along to the songs the band was playing every now and again, showing his appreciation of music through minute actions. You wondered if Josh was also in the band that Jake had previously told you about. The song switched, and there was a twitch in Josh’s eye as his lips upturned ever so slightly. He liked the song, and you could capitalize off it. This specific bar had a liking for old music, and luckily for you, your father refused to listen to any song that came out after ‘95. It was your forte, and seemingly his too. You wished you could thank the (mostly) cover band for picking such a great song to play.
“Fairport Convention.” You sighed, smiling as you stirred your ice around your drink. As you said it, Josh seemed to perk up. His head turned towards you, his eyes shining with admiration for your music knowledge. Once you knew his attention was yours, you spoke again. “I love this song.”
“You… uh, yeah. Me too.” He grinned. If he thought you were attractive before that second, it seemed to grow even stronger. His whole body shifted as he turned in your direction, and his tongue darted out and over his bottom lip. “This is definitely one of my favorite bands of all time.”
“That’s a bold statement.” You said, looking over at him as you sipped your drink.
“And I mean it.” He assured you. “I didn’t know I was in the company of someone with such fantastic taste.” Like venom, your next words came smoothly and deadly.
“There’s lots you don’t know, but I’m sure you could find out if you’re ever interested.” Your voice dropped as you spoke, as if the words shared between you were sacred. In a sense, they were; there was no chance in hell you would ever say it loud enough for Jake to hear. Your eyes flickered to meet his, holding his gaze with a soft intensity that made him squirm in his seat. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, trying to piece together your true intentions. His demeanor shifted in an instant, and in a way you very much needed to see more of.
“Is that so?” He pried further, treading lightly and keeping his voice as hushed as your own. As he said it, you felt Jake’s hand snake to your thigh underneath the table, so stealthily that you would not have even noticed the movement if not for his burning touch lingering just below the hem of your dress. “I’m not sure if I understand what you mean, mama.” The pet name rolled off his tongue, coated in a slight husk that raised goosebumps across your skin. You wondered if you should feel dirty for flirting with Josh while Jake’s hand lingered so tentatively on your leg, but you seemed to miss the boat when it came to remorse in its entirety.
“I think you understand exactly what I mean, honey.” You chuckled, giving a soft smile. His eyes darkened at your words, as if the statement had opened up a whole new world for him. You had given him permission to think such things about you, and he was grateful for it, almost like he’d been fighting the urge to see you as such since he first laid eyes on you.
“Mhm,” he hummed to himself, his head cocking to the side slightly as he tried to figure you out. “How could I say no to an offer like that?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t.” You admitted, holding his gaze to cement your position on the matter. With that, Jake was calling your name and bringing you into conversation with the rest of them. You looked over Josh for a moment longer, then turned to look at his brother. You would have been fearful of Jake seeing Josh’s dumbfounded face if not for the fact he was fully immersed in you. As soon as he caught sight of your face again, he seemed just as enthralled in you as he was when you were talking by the bar.
Time passed and drinks were had, laughs were plentiful and the flirting was unbearable, although kept expertly under wraps. Bouncing between the two seemed like a daunting task you feared you would not be able to do, yet the longer you did it, the easier it became. As the time passed, you even seemed to enjoy it. Danny and Sam seemed incredibly drunk, and due to their innate inability to be observant, your work had become quite simple. Jake had gone to the bar and grabbed everyone another round of drinks, and you had noticed that he switched to drinking beer as the night dwindled on. Your best guess was that he did not want to be too drunk to entertain you, and you had to appreciate his effort.
“Do you have any plans after this, mama?” Josh asked, leaning in almost too close for comfort. Although, it would be very comfortable if not for the crowd onlooking the two of you.
“Looking to learn more already?” You teased, casting a look at him through the corner of your eye.
“Is it such a crime?” He challenged, wishing you would turn to face him once more.
“Not a crime, but not a good night for me. I have to work in the morning.” The lie slipped off your tongue as smooth as silk, no hesitation present in your answer. If only he knew the truth, he may not be so willing to give in to you. “Raincheck?” You asked, turning your head towards him a little more.
“You name the time and place, and I’ll be there.” He promised. Your forearms were resting against each other on the table, incriminating the two of you even further. Josh seemed to be leaning in to you, and if you were a little more drunk, you would have reciprocated the action. Before he could get too close, though, you felt Jake’s fingers tighten against your thigh, but it was not in the soft teasing manner as it was before. It pulled you out of the bubble that surrounded you and Josh, causing a flood of fear to run through you as you looked over at him.
The look in his eye was sinister, yet not threatening. You weren’t sure how he pulled it off, but you had no better way to describe it. His grip on you remained the same, and for a moment, he did not speak. His jaw was hard set, the muscles in his cheeks tense as he looked over your face. “I’m going to grab another drink. Care to join?” He asked, his voice soft and nothing like the flame in his eye. Although his tone was misleading, and you knew that his question was not as it appeared; he had no intent on going back to the bar without you.
“Sure,” you nodded, giving him a smile. You wanted to maintain your composure as much as you could, because if you faltered even slightly, he would see you exactly as you were. He stood, not making any further moves as you joined him. Discreetly, you gave Josh’s knee a squeeze to reassure him after leaving him hanging before you stood yourself.
Jake began walking without looking back to see if you were following; he did not need to, for he felt the cloud of euphoria surrounding him that was only sourced from your company. When he reached the bar, he leaned against a vacant area with room enough for two. He faced inwards, looking at all of the whiskey bottles on the wall and wondering if he would need something stronger to cope with your venomous personality. You took the spot beside him, wondering if he would speak, or if you would have to come up with something on your own. It was so much easier when he did the talking for you.
His lip was curled slightly, as if he had a sour taste on his tongue. You noticed his shoulders heaving with every breath, but he did not appear outwardly furious. Maybe he was holding it all under the surface and waiting for the right moment to explode. For a second, you believed that you had ruined your chances with the beautiful man before you. You wondered what he was thinking, or how much he heard or saw of you and Josh. His silence was painstaking, and you could not deny the nervous flutter in your stomach or the clammy palms.
Then, he turned to look at you, his eyes catching yours in a tell-all reunion. If he was angry, it had dissipated in a second and it was now replaced with the same carnal desire that plagued him before you ever joined his brothers at the booth. You had your pretty face to thank, and the budding feelings that were already blossoming in his heart. He felt for you more than a one night stand should, and even if he knew you were evil to the core, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling such a way. The cycle continued, and he had already branded himself a fool for you.
“What game are you trying to play, sweetheart?” He asked, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Depends… what’s your favorite?” You smirked up at him, giving a bat of your eyelashes to cement the flirtation in your tone. He gave a low chuckle, neglecting a response, instead raising his beer bottle to his lips and tilting his head back. As he drank down the liquid, your eyes drifted towards the exposed columns of his neck, his Adam's apple bobbing with each long gulp.
You couldn’t help but think how foolish he was to expose his very lifeline to you, and although you were not a being of mythical nature and blood was not exactly your thing, you were certain that your lips, or better, your tongue settled gently atop the skin of his jugular would send him straight to his knees. You were tempted to test it out, just to see if your assumptions were correct. You could lean forward and try, but you knew it was best to wait; he would run himself in circles for a few moments before he inevitably landed himself in that exact position.
As he pulled the bottle away from his mouth, the glisten of alcohol making the plush skin of his lips glisten under the dim bar light, his eyes drifted back down towards your face before his head dropped into its earlier position. He was silent for a moment, as if he was trying to understand you better, and then he spoke softly, leaning down so you could hear him over the boom of the stereo system.
“I don’t like games at all, angel.” The sultry tone sent a shiver down your spine, but you did not let it phase you any further than that. Before he could pull away, you turned your head inwards, just enough so that your nose would brush against his. At the sudden touch, he did not shy away like you expected. If anything, he seemed to lean further into you without any hesitation. At that moment, you understood that you were not playing with an amateur; any lesser man would shy away from your strong nature. If you had to admit, him being open to the advance made your desire to play him grow even stronger. “I saw you talking to Josh. Do you think you’re being sly? Playing hard to get?” He asked, the sheer power behind his soft tone making your knees weak and your stomach twist in a knot. “Or are you trying to make me jealous?” If only he knew how extensive your evil truly was, he would never have spoken at all and instead turn away to run. His accusations were nowhere near the atrocities you were intending to commit. “What, you have nothing to say, now? Finally have you cornered?”
“Just don’t think you’d like what I have to say, is all.” You said, placing your empty cup down on the bar top without breaking the position. His eyes were boring into your own, as if he was trying to make you submit to him. In truth, you found his confidence comedic. Of course, you’d give him what he wanted, but he’d be doing you more of a favor than you were doing him. It wouldn’t take him very long to put down the dominant facade and comprehend that he was not the one with the power. “Some things are better left unsaid, Jacob.”
A flame was dancing dangerously behind his pupil, letting you know that there was much more to his character if you looked behind the mask he constantly had on. It intrigued you, making you wonder what would happen if you continued to nurse it with gasoline. Perhaps the explosion would be quite enjoyable, even for days after the disaster. Russian roulette was a game that often seemed tempting, and playing it with Jake made it all the more enticing.
The lights were low, making it incredibly difficult to place the emotion in his eye. Even then, it didn’t matter; all men were the same, and he was already caught on your hook. He was irritated, annoyed at your evasion and what seemed to be a tiresome game of cat and mouse, but it was not enough for him to lack interest in you. The scent of whiskey on your breath, casted warmly over his lips was drawing him in further, making him wonder if he could still taste it on your tongue if he acted fast enough. He thought he had the upper hand, that he was the one who was charming you, but he could not seem to see that he was playing the exact way you wanted him to. He was blissfully unaware, and you were ready for the kill. “If it means that much to you, Jacob, I’m sure the bathroom is free. Maybe a quick stop might convince you of where my loyalty lies.” The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a small, wicked smile. “Josh was never offered an invitation like that, was he?”
You reached out, running a delicate hand over his bicep that was covered with the thin material of his button-up. He flexed in response of the feeling, the touch running through him and clouding his judgement. You leaned forward, captivating him further. It was your time to strike, and you were moving with full force. He was too weak to resist, even if he knew he should. You did not need to deny the flirting accusations, because he had seen it with his own eyes. Doing so would drive him further way, but you could capitalize off the fact that he did not know the true motives of your conversation with Josh. For now, you could let him believe it was to make him jealous, because it worked in your favour.
In that moment, he realized the full extent of your wicked nature. He wanted to walk away, to leave you to wallow in the loss after he caught you flirting with his brother, but something about the burn of your touch and the calming effect of your gaze made the desire flee him. He knew you had no intentions of anything further than sex, and now that your mask had melted away, he could even understand that you didn’t even have care for him as a person. Getting off was the only thing that mattered, and that much was clear, but not even that seemed to turn him away. With every touch and lingering stare, every ounce of kindness (even if it was rare) and each one of your sweet smiles gave him a breath of hope that maybe he had misjudged the situation and you were actually telling the truth.
The vicious cycle had already begun, and he was a fool for thinking he could escape. He couldn’t resist your temptation, and he could not refute his desire to have you, too. As long as you continued to feed him, he would come crawling back, even if it would kill him. He could not assume the worst of you, especially because he’d only known you for a short time, so he relaxed under your touch and gave in to the feeling. He wanted to change your mind, to be the one to keep you for longer than a day, and he was willing to do whatever he could to persuade you to give him the chance.
Little did you know, by offering him the invitation, you were walking straight into your own demise. Although he did not know it yet, he would not be the one to steal your heart, but he would be the one to put an end to your venomous ways.
“How kind of you.” He shot back, but the refrain from earlier seemed to disappear. “Your generosity is staggering, sweetheart.”
“Is that you saying no?” You took it upon yourself to move closer to him, nearly pressing yourself into his body in hopes that it would sway his thoughts. He turned his head down towards you, casting a far away glance from over his nose, as if he was already thinking of all the things the two of you could get up to behind a locked door.
“Don’t put words in my mouth.” His voice was quiet, but his tone was strong. His hand reached for your hip, the pull of your aura too strong. He couldn’t help himself.
“Why don’t you go wait in the bathroom, and I’ll go and collect my things. I’ll tell them I’m headed home so they won’t even suspect a thing.” You said, giving a soft smile as his eyes watched your face. “Then, I can show you just how generous I really am.”
“How do I know you’re not playing another one of your little games?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes, heaving a little sigh as you did so. You could not lie and say that abandoning him just to mess with him had not crossed your mind, but you needed him far too much to walk away without anything. So, instead of making a fuss, you reached up and let your fingers settle over the clasp back of your diamond earring. You slipped it off and extended your hand towards him. He looked to the shiny rock, then back at your face, unsure of what you were doing.
“Take it, so you know I’ll come back.” You motioned your hand further towards him, insisting on the fact. Slowly, he reached out and grabbed it from you. He slipped it in his pocket, nodding in appreciation for your lack of fight.
“Don’t be too long, sweetheart. I don’t like being kept waiting.” He spoke, looking down at you once more before taking a step back. His cockiness was infuriating, yet looked good on him. Instead of arguing, you winked at him before he turned to walk away. Once he was swallowed by the crowd, you turned to the bar and grabbed a napkin from the stack sitting nearby. Quickly, you called the bartender over to ask him if you could borrow a pen. Luckily, he was quick to retrieve you one, and you scribbled a message down on the paper.
You walked back towards the booth you were sitting in moments before, making sure Jake was nowhere in sight. When you reached the group again, Sam and Danny were chattering amongst themselves while Josh seemed to be awaiting your arrival. You shot him a smile, sliding in beside him for just a second to tie up any loose ends and to let Josh know that the invitation was still very much alive. “Hey,” you breathed, talking only loud enough for him to hear.
“Was wondering where you were.” He replied, his stare intense as he silently begged you to move closer.
“I know, I’m sorry.” You said, giving a sympathetic smile. “Jake wasn’t feeling well so he went to the bathroom. Probably because he was mixing beer and whiskey.” You paused, rolling your eyes for dramatic effect. “He wanted me to tell you guys not to wait up for him. I wish I could stay longer, but I have to work in the morning.” You put all of your heart into the fake tale to make it believable, and Josh was just drunk enough to take your word for it.
“You’re leaving already?” There was a hint of disappointment in his eye, but when you reached out under the table and landed a gentle hand on his thigh, he seemed to perk up.
“I wish I could stay,” you said, finding his hand so you could slip the napkin into his palm. He grabbed it from you, keeping it as discreet as he could. “Thank you for being so sweet and letting me drink with you guys, though.”
“Anytime, mama.” He said, noticing your fingers still lingering on him. There was a twitch in his jaw as his teeth clenched together. If he could have it his way, he’d have you right then and there.
“I’ll see you again sometime?” You asked, a fake look of hope in your eye.
“Definitely.” He nodded. “You have a way home? Do you want me to walk with you?” He offered, partially concerned with your safety, but more concerned with getting you alone.
“I live just around the corner, so no need for that.” You assured him, imploring him to remember the note clutched tightly in his hand. “I’ll see you later, Josh.” You gave him a lingering stare as you grabbed your purse and backed out of the booth. He nodded in response, watching your hips as you walked off into the crowd. When you were out of eyesight, he looked down at the napkin, scrawled with your number and a message for him.
Call me so we can arrange that raincheck. Keep it between us, though—a secret is all the more fun ;)
You walked towards the bathroom with a fervor, pushing through the crowd with little regard for anyone or anything. It had been an extremely long night of flirting with little reward thus far. Knowing that Jake was waiting for you, feeling the same way that you were, was enough to make you want to tear the building down in order to get to him. When you rounded the corner to the one single bathroom that the building had (which in your opinion was a poor judgment on the owners part), you noticed nobody pooling around the door to wait their turn. It came as a surprise, especially considering how crowded the establishment was, but you certainly could not find a complaint about it.
Before you went inside, you reached into your purse. First, you popped a mint in your mouth, settling it under your tongue as you reapplied your deodorant and lipgloss. You ran your hand through your hair and took a deep breath, settling your thoughts before you joined Jake. The whole night has been a whirlwind, and you were shocked that you made it this far. You reached out, your fingers clasping around the handle and turning it, only to find that it was locked. You let out a huff of irritation, raising your fist to knock on the solid wood door. You hit against it with little force, sending a pattern of thuds echoing into the other side. You thought that if you did it like so, he would recognize that it was you.
You waited for a moment, and received nothing in return. Frustrated, you knocked again, a little louder this time. When he did not answer, you tapped your foot against the ground while anxiety invaded your mind. You worried that maybe you had crossed a line, pushed him a little too far and he’d changed his mind. Worse than that, you feared he decided to give you a taste of your own medicine and lead you on only to leave you with nothing. Just as you were ready to knock again, the knob twisted and the door slowly opened, revealing Jake’s smirking face illuminated by the fluttering fluorescent bulb.
“Asshole,” you muttered, unpleasant about his actions.
“Impatient, much?” He raised an eyebrow, opening the door to let you in. You pushed past him, watching him close the door and lock it before turning to face you.
“Not impatient,” you shook your head. “Just wondering why you were keeping me waiting.”
“That is impatience, sweetheart.” He chuckled, stepping towards you. “Just like you not being able to wait until we got home.”
“So what?” You shrugged, a smile tugging at your lips. You were becoming less annoyed the closer he got, and now that he was within arms reach, you had almost forgotten about the minor inconvenience entirely. “Maybe you should take it as a compliment.” You offered, reaching out and settling your hand on his bicep. You pulled him further towards you and his hand shot to your hip as if it were a natural reaction.
“Who says I don’t?” He challenged, his lips just inches away from your own. He was teasing you without even doing a thing, imploring you to make the decision you both had been waiting so long for. “You’ve got a habit of jumping to conclusions.”
“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, the smile still eating away at your lips. “You’ve got an awful way of showing it.” You had been with plenty of people, many in this exact situation, yet it had never come so easily as it did with him. There was something compelling about Jake, and it made you want to banter with him and challenge his every move. It wasn’t malice, but it was fun, and you knew you would have a very hard time letting go of it when the night was through. Something told you that Jake was not the type of person you should let go of.
Perhaps that feeling was meant to be felt in a romantic context, yet you were still greedy enough to keep him on your hook for your own selfish desires.
“Maybe I’ll have to show it in some other way, then.” He theorized, bringing his hand to rest on your jaw. You did not have to respond in order for him to feel your enthusiasm. He leaned down, wasting no more time as he pressed his lips to yours. The seclusion of the bathroom had been a blessing in disguise; as his lips moved against your own, you could feel his guard being let down. Whether that was because of privacy, or because you finally had the opportunity to leech the life from him, you did not know.
What you did know was that because the two of you were alone, everything felt all the more fantastic. His hand felt like it was burning to the touch, melting into your skin and bringing the two of you together as one. The taste of alcohol on his tongue was even more delicious, because this time you knew it was laced with sin. His chest pressed against yours was intoxicating because you could feel the beating of his heart in time with yours. The smell of his cologne was not clouded by perfumes and aftershaves of people walking by, and his ragged breathing was not covered by the boom of music. In here, you had access to him in whatever way you pleased without interference from any external force. In here, you had the opportunity to take him for your own.
His lips trailed from your own, brushing over the firey skin of your cheeks and eventually, down to your neck. The graze of his teeth against your pulse-point was was driving you to insanity, and the feeling of his tongue running over your sweet spots was the nail in the coffin. For a brief moment, you feared that with him, your power was obsolete. Every touch was electric, and every second seemed antagonizingly slow. You were at his disposal now, and you wondered if he would be kind to you despite all of the bad karma headed in your direction.
As he continued to work his way down to your collarbone, you knew that that was no way he could be your bad karma, because no punishment should feel so good.
He backed you into the countertop, the backs of your thighs slamming against the cool tile and sending a shiver down your spine. Before you could recover, and without ever moving his lips from you, he planted his hands firmly on your waist and lifted you onto the counter. He was moving so quickly that you barely had time to process the submissive role he’d forced you into. His hand wandered up your body, settling on the thin material of your dress just above your breasts. The feeling of his warm hands on your cold skin made your breath catch in your throat, and when he pulled the material down, you felt a whine escape your lips.
“Needy little thing,” he muttered, his voice raspy with lust as his eyes grazed over your now bare chest. He’d become a whole new person in an instant, and shyness or reserve completely fleeing him. You wanted to know this side of him, more than you ever wanted to know the other side of him. There was something bordering animalistic in his approach, and his eyes darkened with the intensity of his need for you. “You want me, sweetheart?” He asked, lightly running his thumb over your hardened nipple.
For once, completely submitting to a man seemed like the right thing to do. You felt in your heart that if you were good to him, he would be fantastic to you.
“So bad, Jake.” You breathed, looking over his face as you spoke. You noticed a slight scowl on his lips that had not been there earlier, and a shed of malice in his eyes. Perhaps Jake was the type to become the worst version of himself when his clothes were off, and you were not shy in admitting that it only turned you on further. You wondered if maybe he was not looking for you to call him by his name; so far, he’d exuded his adoration for dominance, so perhaps he was searching for a title that fit the character. You thought that if you’d made it this far without fucking up, the least you could do was try your luck. “I need you, sir.”
His pupils engulfed his irises as he listened to your words and the corners of his lips upturned into a smirk. He was painfully hard, the newest term of endearment sending him into a craze as he bunched the bottom of your dress in his fists. You raised your ass off the counter, allowing him to push the fabric to your navel. As you sat back down, his hands caught your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. The two of you were perfectly in tune, now. He was fucked up for needing you to refer to him in such a way to get off, and you were just as fucked up for knowing exactly what to say without him telling you.
He hooked his fingers through the side of your panties, pulling them down with your help. “You need me?” He asked, his eyes settling on your cunt, finally getting a taste of what he’d been waiting for all along. “You flirt so much that you just can’t wait another second to be touched? Is that it?” He pressed further, his eyes only flickering to your face once to catch a glimpse of your expression.
“Yes, sir.” You nodded, aching at the thought of him being the one to touch you. Your desperation had grown so quick and so strong that it was nearly painful, and you had to fight the urge to reach between your legs and do the job for him. As much as you enjoyed his antics, you knew you would enjoy sex with him even more.
“So what was it?” He asked, letting his rough fingertips graze the soft skin of your thighs. The touch sent goosebumps prickling over your skin. “Or who was it might be the better question.”
“W-what?” You stuttered, only half listening to his tirade.
“Don’t play dumb, angel.” He scolded, his fiery gaze flicking upwards and holding your stare this time. Before he spoke again, he placed one hand on your knee, roughly pushing it to the side to give him access to you. “Who turned you into such a mess? Was it me, or was it my brother?” Jake knew as soon as the words left his lips, it hit a nerve within you. You had expected him to drop the subject and forget about it as soon as he got you naked, that he would feel superior for being the one to have you in such a way. Clearly, you had misjudged him, and Jake was the type to hold a grudge. That, or he didn’t really care all that much and just loved to torture you.
“You, sir.” You promised, making sure to add a breathiness to your tone that would send him spiraling. It worked, but not to the extent you had hoped. His hand drifted to the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your core yet far enough away to make it excruciatingly hard for you to sit through.
‘Maybe he’s a sadist,’ you thought. Then, a worse idea washed over you; if he was a sadist, you would gladly be the masochist. At that moment, the tables turned. The boy before you had made you into a mess, spinning your entire world on its axis and changing your trajectory. For once, you had no concern for your own pleasure, and felt that you could only accept such kindness if it were to please him.
In short, he’d turned you soft.
Jake knew that this conversation was making you squirm, but he did not know the reason why. You did not feel guilt for flirting with Josh; you were overcome with emotion at the idea of living to be a source of pleasure for Jake. You were so keen on the idea of using others for your own personal gain, yet as he stared at you from between your legs, waiting for his next moment to strike, you knew that you would give up the whole world just to be of use to him, in any way he deemed necessary.
Sexually, of course.
Romance was never an option laid out on the table, nor would it ever be.
“You sure about that, sweetheart?” He asked, his upper lip curling as he brought his hand to your cunt. You let out a gasp, your fingers tightening around the edge of the countertop as his thumb brushed over your clit. It was featherlight, a minimal touch that should not have produced such a strong effect on you, yet everything seemed grand when Jake was the one doing it.
For a split second, you felt regret at the idea of trying to get Josh into your bed, too. You need not be so greedy when someone so fantastic was willing to fulfill all of your needs. Then, the moment passed and your wicked nature returned to you. You were excited at the prospect of having Josh in the same way, because you had little doubt that he would treat you just as good.
“Did you want him in here with you, playing with your pretty little pussy?” The vulgarity wrapped delicately around his tongue, like it was the sweetest word he’d ever spoken. You felt yourself clench around nothing, your heart beating hard enough to burst through your ribcage. “You want him to touch you, instead?”
“No, sir.” You whined, feeling the muscles in your thighs twitch as he added pressure to his thumb. You were only partially lying, because you knew that if he stopped, you would break down, crumbling to the ground and turning to dust from the loss of his precious company. You did not want Josh to touch you instead, you just wanted him to do it too. “I just want you, baby.” You pleaded, hoping he could read between the lines and see that you wanted more.
Jake knew you were lying; he knew that you were not a lustful woman who caught the attention of men at the bar; you were a foul, wicked entity that was rotten to the core. He could see it in your eyes, the lack of remorse and shame. There was no room for any other emotion in you other than desire, but he felt lucky to be on the receiving end of such things. If he was smart, he would have turned and walked out the door. He should have left you there to wallow in your own stupidity and arrogance, and maybe then you would have learned not to make such a mistake. Every time he felt like he had the willpower to do so, you caught his eye, or another whiny moan pushed past your pink, glossed lips, and he knew he would stay between your legs until he heaved his last dying breath. Leaving you was not an option, yet staying would kill him.
Either way, he knew that death was most feasible, and he would rather die hearing his name stuck in your throat than alone and clinging to the memory.
“Then let me hear how fucking bad you want it.” He ordered, his words resembling a growl as he leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from his lips to his fingers. Not long after, he pushed his middle and index finger inside of you. Your back arched at the feeling, your hips lifting off the counter to meet the curl of his fingers inside of you. You let out a string of curses, a groan tearing through your chest as a wave of pleasure washed over you. You had no idea what he was depriving you of until you felt it, and now you feared you could not live without it.
“Oh, fuck.” You gasped, noticing the steady pace of his fingers be joined by his thumb on your clit.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear it.” He encouraged, nearly driven to madness at the knowledge he was the one making you sing such precious sounds. You leaned back, your head resting on the scratched mirror as you portrayed yourself in an even more pornographic manner. Your tits were spilling from the top of your dress and your knuckles were white from gripping the countertop so tightly. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your lips parted as he worked his way up to familiarity with your body. Although he wasn’t certain he would see you again after the night was through, he wanted to ensure that if he did, he knew you well enough to pick up where you left off tonight. Plus, he hoped that if he did a good enough job, you would invite him back for more.
His need to be needed by you was debilitating, but he couldn’t help himself. He felt like something else entirely when he was around you, like pleasing you was the only thing in the world that mattered.
You would think that by now he would know better, especially after seeing the evil you were capable of when it came to his brother, but it did not matter to him. He wanted to be with you so badly that he chose to blind himself on your behalf. He’d tricked himself to believe you were genuine, and he had enough faith in his own ability that he believed he could make you forget about your attraction to Josh. When the night was through, he was confident that his brother would not even be a passing thought in your mind.
His own naïveté would inevitably be the end of him, but he was too stubborn to admit the truth.
He was a force to be reckoned with, but you were an otherworldly force that not only him, but the world itself had never encountered, and likely never would again.
“Feels so fucking good, sir.” You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as another forceful pull of pleasure twisted your stomach. His eyes were settled on your cunt, watching his fingers drive you to the brink of insanity. The sight was doing just the same to him—with every pump of his fingers, his cock throbbed in anticipation for what he would experience in due time.
“See, sweetheart? You do know how to do something worthwhile with your mouth after all.” He muttered, talking down to you all while blessing you with the most generous gift. He was still seething that Josh had a taste of the sweetness you had to offer, even if he was the lucky one to have you so intimately. Instead of depriving you both of the pleasure, he figured he could get the best of both worlds. He might have felt remorse if not for you enjoying his harsh words so much.
Another moan escaped you. It was louder than you anticipated, engulfing the silence that once existed in the air. The sound was so vulgar that it clung to the poorly decorated walls, seeping into the foundation and making home. You would never be able to walk into the place again without being reminded of the memory indefinitely. Jake's company far outweighed the value of any other, and his legacy would live on in the building forever. Even as sharp insults slid off his tongue and in your direction, you felt like it was a blessing to be the one to receive it.
Your muscles tensed as his fingers curled, brushing against the sweet spot he’d so easily found. He seemed to know you so well despite barely knowing you at all, and it was comforting just as much as it was confusing. You wanted to give in to him, to let your iron guard down for a moment to let him and see you as you truly were rather than what you tried to be, but you couldn’t. You could not trust a man that seemed so eager to please you, and one who did it so well. For a moment, you believed that he was the master of deception, and you had taken him for a fool when in reality, it was only you who could be branded as such. You wondered if you had been so sure of yourself that you believed he was falling for your lies, when in fact, you were playing into his game.
Whoevers game it was did not matter in the end, as no matter which way it went, the two of you were being played by each other in entirely different ways. He was trying to con the player into taking a chance on him, and you were trying to con the lover into submission so you could fuck his brother. It was a losing battle for the both of you, but try was the only thing you knew how to do.
“Are you going to cum for me, Angel?” He asked, his voice barely sounding over your desperation.
“Y-yes sir,” you gasped, the intensity of the pleasure making you want to force your legs shut just to get a moment of rest. You were certain that you were being louder than the music playing outside the door, but neither of you cared.
“You going to let everyone know how good I’m making you feel?” He asked, his eyes flickering towards the door for a moment, then back to you.
“God, yes.” You muttered, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down your forehead. The bathroom was unbearably warm as is, and with the added warmth of what he was doing to you, it was nearly suffocating. Your whole body felt like it was on fire. Your heartbeat was deafening as it rang through your eardrums and the pit of your stomach felt like it was encased in flames. You were so close, and you needed it so bad. You were so strung out on pleasure that you could not formulate any further words. Instead, you did exactly as he said, muttering curses mixed with pornographic sounds that would ensure anyone lingering by the door would quickly make an exit.
Then, your vision began to blur as the orgasm threatened you further. The euphoria was coursing through your veins, throbbing under your skin and begging to take your life. With every movement he was pushing you closer to the edge, and he was drinking in every second of the moment. He watched as you expression twisted into pleasure, how your chest would rise and fall with every breath, how the muscles of your legs twitched every time he brought his thumb back over your clit. You were enchanting and he found it impossible not to watch.
You could feel yourself descending into something stronger than anything you’d ever felt. The whole world felt like it was spinning and your body felt light. It was within your grasp, and you were delirious enough to think that if you reached out, you could wrap your fingers around the billowing clouds of euphoria and draw them closer, to drown yourself in it. You moved your hips down on his hand, needing that little bit extra to get you there, and he had no issue giving it to you. It was overwhelming in the best possible way, and you felt the need to stave off the urge just to make it last a little bit longer. Not long after that, you realized how ridiculous the idea was and began to give in to the temptation. It felt like it was consuming you, your skin white hot with desire and no sign of letting up.
And then it was gone.
Your eyes shot open, a fire dancing in your pupils as you looked down at him. He had drawn his hand away completely, a small smirk toying across his lips as he turned his gaze towards you. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked, clearly upset with no intent to hide it. The pleasure was still making your skin tingle, but it was dissipating faster with every second that passed until eventually, it turned into an empty sense of longing settled deep in the pit of your stomach. In any other circumstance, he would have chastised you for speaking so harshly, but he was enjoying your desperation and frustration too much to ask you to stop.
“I’m not that kind, sweetheart.” He reminded you, knowing that denying you an orgasm was a complex decision with many reasons as to why. He did not think you were deserving of one so soon, even if he craved to see you turn to a mess before him. More than that, he did not what you to cum from something as frivolous as his hands. “You really think you deserve it?”
No, you did not think you deserved it, but god did you want it. In your mind, want was equal to, if not more important than anything else.
“Jake, please.” You breathed, your cheeks stained red from embarrassment more than pleasure, now. Not often did you feel that you should beg for a man, yet for some reason, he made you feel as though you would die without him. There was some otherworldly power that he bestowed upon you after a single touch, and you were hooked on him for life. He was more powerful than any substance and more desirable than any other man. “I’ve been so good for you, baby. Please let me cum.” While you spoke, his mind seemed completely elsewhere.
As you begged, he paid no mind to your neediness and instead raised his index finger to his mouth, slowly slipping the digit between his lips and settling it on his tongue. He inhaled deeply as the taste of your arousal overwhelmed him, letting out a low groan that rattled his chest. Although it was muffled by his finger in his mouth, you heard it loud and clear. If it were possible, the simple action made you even more desperate for him, and you thought you might die if he made you wait any longer. When he withdrew his finger, a slight popping noise echoed through the air around the two you. When he looked up at you, his pupils had completely consumed his irises, blackened with lust for you.
“Taste so sweet, angel.” He muttered, his gaze flickering back to your cunt. “You have been good for me, haven’t you?” He smiled, but it was not the beautiful one you’d grown so accustomed to. This time, it was evil, and it shook you to the core.
“So good, sir.” You agreed, nodding your head slightly. You looked down at him with innocent eyes and a little smile, hoping that he would see reason. “Please let me cum, sir. I’ve been so good.” You said it again, with more conviction in your eyes in hopes of winning the battle. He let his fingers trail up your thigh, the light touch tickling your skin and sending another rush of arousal straight to your cunt.
“You sound so fucking pretty when beg for me.” He spoke lowly, but with plenty of power within his words. With that, his hands settled on your hips and he pulled you even closer to the edge of the counter. He drink to his knees before you, eyes focused intently on your cunt. He leaned forward, his mouth connecting with you without any further conversation, reveling the real reason why he’d gotten on his knees.
He flattened his tongue against you, slowly running it through your folds, getting another taste of the arousal that he was responsible for. He hummed against you, showing his appreciation for you and the opportunity to have you like such. You let out a shaky sigh, still leaning your head against the mirror to support yourself as he worked at you. He took it slow at first, wanting to savour every moment of the experience as he feared he may never get the chance again. You loosened your iron grip on the countertop, reaching down and tangling your fingers in the long locks of brown hair. It felt good around your fingers, just as soft and silky as you imagined it would be.
When he seemed satisfied with the teasing he was doing, he let his tongue settle over your clit, moving it slowly across the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your breath hitched in your throat as a rush of pleasure flooded through you, reminding you of all he was capable of doing, even with the most miniscule of actions. He used one hand to guide your leg over his shoulder, running his fingers back up until he could grip your hip again. He repeated the action with the other leg, and once he felt you were secure, he pulled you down even further on him. When you grew comfortable with the changes, he brought his fingers back to you and wasted no time in resuming his earlier pace.
“Fuck, Jake.” You hissed, the feeling consuming your entire body once again. He’d pushed you so close to the edge that it wasn’t hard to get you back, and after only a few seconds of steady movement, you could feel the pressure begin to rise again. In response, he curled his fingers upwards again as he pumped them into you, unable to forget the reaction that it prompted from you. You felt yourself clench around him, drawing his hand in further and deeper, intending to keep him there forever.
He took in a sharp breath, loving the way your body responded to his efforts. He thought you were the most enchanting thing he’d ever laid eyes on, and he would happily die between your legs with his name knotted around your tongue. You were so caught up in bliss that you began to believe this was the best it would ever get; no man before Jake had ever made you feel so good, even if they tried ten times harder. Jake was what you had been looking for every night since moving to the city, and if you had been smart, you would have recognized that and took the leap of faith. You were too far gone, spiraling down your self-made rabbit hole, neglecting the idea that he could be more than just good sex in a dingy bar bathroom.
The truth was that you knew all of those things, and worse than that, you could feel it when you were with him, but you were too far gone to ever be able to introduce love to your cold heart. You wanted to love, to be loved, but you no longer had the capacity for such things. The fleeting feeling of an orgasm was powerful, and even if it did not leave you fulfilled for very long, it was preferable to the pain of heartbreak. He made you feel more than you ever had before, but that was what made you want to run. A man met at the bar with sly words and a pretty smile was never good news, and when you took note of the rest of his charming attributes, you knew he was even worse than bad. Jake had the ability to make you see him for more than sex, but he also had the ability to hurt you worse than anyone else.
Drawn by the first touch and stuck there after the second, he was the most devilish of all men; the difference between you and the razor sharp thorns that grew from your skin was that he did not have intent to use his for harm, but you were always looking for a reason to injure. You recognized his deadly beauty because you held the same one in your heart, and you had taken him as someone just like you, neglecting to consider that he was far from it. You did not have enough time or care to make an attempt to see differently, so you continued on with your same old treachery with intent to destroy anything good before it could ever happen.
With expert precision, he kept his fingers in time with his tongue. He could feel how close you were without you having to say a word. The rapid breathing and racing heartbeat, the blushed cheeks and the forehead gleaming with sweat, the eyes squeezed shut and your thighs tightening around his head. It was so powerful that he almost felt the same desperation in his heart, fearing that if he did not get you there you would succumb to the sickness of need. He wanted to talk you through it, to use words of praise instead of the cruel sentiments he had been giving you before. He wanted to be the only thing on your mind, to invade every thought and fibre of your being so you did not even have the opportunity to think of anything else. His work was driven by greed, and he was not ashamed to admit that he would do whatever he could to keep you coming back for more.
The thought of you flirting with his brother had long left his mind, replaced with filthy thoughts of all he could do to you. He knew that Josh did not have the same luxury, and he would be walking home alone without you, while he would spend the entire night entangling you within his soul. He was the only one of the two who was blessed with the privilege of having you, and he would wear the badge with honour until his very last minute on earth.
Once again, his overconfident attitude and foolish naïveté would seal his grave forevermore.
A particularly sharp moan forced him to break out of his thoughts, returning his focus back to you as he continued to push you closer to the edge. “Oh god, Jake.” You cried, feeling the threat of an orgasm creeping up on you once more. It was much stronger and more intense than the last, and your whole body felt ablaze with pleasure. Your heart felt like it would explode out of your chest, and your lungs would deflate. Your head was buzzing with anticipation, and your entire body was tense.
You wondered if it was possible to survive the fall after allowing him to carry you to such heights.
You did not have enough time to worry about death as the knot in your belly snapped under the pressure, unravelling as the feeling took over your entire body. Your thighs squeezed against his skull, locking him there indefinitely as your fingers grasped at the strands of his hair. If not for the counter beneath you and his hand holding you in place, you thought you might descend to hell from the sinful indulgence. You had never felt anything quite like it, as if your soul was being consumed by the irate pleasure that knew not when to stop. Your back arched off the counter, the feeling of his tongue still moving sent you into another wave of euphoria. His fingers inside of you were moving with a fervour, lingering around the sweet spot he’s taken to. It was so much that it was almost nothing at all; so powerful that it was the only thing you knew.
When you came down, you were delirious from the depths of the new world he’d introduced you to. You wondered if you would ever find something that could make you feel that way again, or if you would spend an entire lifetime chasing after a high that only existed when you were with him. Debate on the topic was non-essential, because when he rose from his knees and unbuckled his belt, it did not matter. In fact, nothing in the world mattered except for him.
Recovery was not a conscious choice, because he gave you no other option. Before you were even of sound mind, he’d freed himself from his boxers and resumed his position between your legs, only standing this time. Your orgasm was still glistening on his chin, and he wore it like a trophy as he casted a downward glance at you. Even in the lowlight, every one of his features still appeared so beautifully, as if all of the gods had a helping hand in the creation of him. “Was that what you wanted, angel?” He asked, his voice husky as he watched you with a whole new type of hunger in his eyes. “That’s what you waited all night for?”
“Y-yes, sir.” You stuttered, still gulping for air. Normally, you would feel strange being in such a state in front of anyone, especially when they were as calm as he was, but it did not bother you now. You were perfectly content being at his disposal, ready to give him anything and everything his heart desired.
“Are you ready for more, or you can’t take it?” He asked, reaching down and running a thumb over your burning cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, a human reaction to a sweet gesture.
“I can take it, sir.” You promised, your eyes flickering away from his stare and down to his cock. Your mouth watered at the sight, fantasizing momentarily about what it would be like to taste him. You wanted him in every way possible, and any shame about the need was long gone the minute he began to touch you. Your focus was torn away from the beautiful imaginative world you’d thrown yourself into when he spit on his hand, stroking himself for a moment before stepping closer to you.
“You think you can keep being good for me?” He asked, running the tip of his cock through the wetness that remained on your cunt.
“Yes, sir.” You said, confident in your ability to take whatever he had to offer. He rested himself against your entrance, pushing his hips forward only slightly so just his tip rested inside of you.
“That’s my girl,” he said, the possessive claim settling deep in your spine and weighing you down like cement. It felt so good to be called his, even if you did not really want to be. His lips turned upwards into a smile, misleading you only slightly. Then, without warning, he brought one hand to the back of your head. The sudden movement did nothing but confuse you, but when he used his hand resting on your hip to pull you towards him, it appeared there was a method to his madness. Your back landed against the countertop with a loud thud, sending a tingle of pain radiating through your spine, but he used his hand to cushion your head as you fell, ensuring it would not slam against the counter as well.
The mix of pain from the fall and the pleasure from him finally being inside of you was conflicting, but addicting nonetheless. Your hips were off the counter completely now, and once he knew you were well and recovered from the shock, he moved his hand from your head. He loved the accessibility of the new position, and he was eager to begin. With both hands holding your hips steady, he felt comfortable enough to begin moving at a steady pace, but steady did not mean gentle, and your toes were already curling from the sensation as you locked your legs around him.
“Fuck!” You yelped, feeling the tip of his cock slam into the same spot his fingers had been tormenting just moments before. You were more sensitive than ever due to the earth shattering orgasm he’d just given you, and the feeling of him inside you was overwhelming.
“I thought you said you could take it, sweetheart?” He taunted, delivering another sharp thrust to the same area. Your legs quivered from the sensation and your throat was raw from the moans flowing steadily through it. You could not respond, the pleasurable pain was so intense that it was impossible to focus on anything else. He wondered for a moment if he was giving you more than you could handle, but the thought quickly vanished when he felt your legs tighten around him and pull him closer. It was enough of an answer for him, but you pulled yourself together enough to fight back.
“Don’t give yourself too much credit, honey.” You smirked. “You call this fucking?” His eyes blazed red in an instant, as if your words turned him into an entirely different entity. Your desire to fight never fled, and his antagonism was just enough to bring it back out.
“You’re gonna be a little brat after I was so nice to you?” He said, drilling his hips into you even more harshly. The feeling seemed to take your breath away, but you tried your best to stand your ground. “Or do you want me to treat you like a whore?” He raised an eyebrow, somehow unphased by the speed in which his hips were moving. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Fuck, yes.” You whined, arching your back against the countertop to meet the thrust of his hips. You knew you could not handle any more, but you needed it all the same. Everything about him was conflicting and it only ever made you want more.
“You like being a little slut for me, don’t you?” He pressed further, letting his hands wander down your legs.
“I love it, sir.” You corrected, feeling his fingers tighten around your ankles as he pulled your legs apart, keeping his touch gentle as he tortured you with his hips. He brought your legs up, straightening them before pushing them upwards and into your chest. He leaned forward, locking you into position and slipped an arm underneath you to support your weight.
“Show me how much you love it, sweetheart.” He ordered, his expression stern as he continued to fuck into you. His movements were causing your knees to push back into your chest, constricting you in the most intoxicating way. “I want you to cum again, on my cock this time.” The vulgarity of his words made your walls tighten around him, making the sensation even more intense. “Can you do that for me?”
“I can,” you whimpered, feeling the pressure rising again. He was pushing you to the limit just so he could watch you as he drove you to insanity. Every movement was amplified by a million with the new position, and that wasn’t even considering how your skin was still tingling with the ghost of your previous orgasm. If his intent was to send you mad, he was doing a damn good job.
“How’s this for fucking?” He growled, looking down at your face. You were so strung out on pleasure that you could barely keep your eyes open, but that was exactly what he was hoping for. “Is this good enough for you, angel?” The pet name was laced with distaste now, showing his anger for your snide comment. You realized as you caught his eye that there was a whole other side of Jake you had yet to discover, and one night would not be enough for you to know him as much as you would like. You had no idea how a man so ethereal could turn so animalistic in an instant, and it only confused you further when you realized you liked that side of him more, because only you could see it.
You were desperate for him to slow down; the climax was barreling towards you at the speed of light, and you could not keep up with it. At the same time, you knew that if he stopped, you would be on your knees in an instant to beg him for more. The very thing you needed to survive would ultimately be the thing that killed you, and your relationship with the man between your legs had been vile from the very beginning. It started on lies and deceit, and carried on after betrayal and mistrust. Nothing good could ever grow from something so rotten, yet the two of you joined together in a pivotal moment of your lives; you would never be the same again, and neither would he. Despite the evil that forced the two of you together, you knew you would not change it for the world.
You were broken from your thoughts when a sharp sting flashed across your cheek. He was expecting an answer, and he was not willing to go without one, so he did what he could to regain your attention. Your eyes shot open, focusing in on the face glaring down at you. His hand had moved back to hold your hip, as if he’d never struck you at all. It took you a moment to clue in to what he had done, because you were too busy trying to sear the sight of his face into your memory for the rest of time. His hair was sticking to his skin, his shirt hanging off his body as the buttons came undone from the constant movements. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you were lucky to have him, even if you did feel regret for using him in such a way.
“Fucking answer me.” He hissed, wondering if he would need to slap you again to pry the words from your lips. Under your foundation, the skin had already began blotching with redness at the forceful contact, but you didn’t seem to care. If anything, you wondered what you could do to get him to do it again. “Is this good enough for you, or do you still need more?”
“It’s good, sir. It’s so fucking good.” You rushed the words out, knowing that if you did not answer, his next punishment might not be so enjoyable.
“That’s what I thought, sweetheart.” His chest was heaving, trying to keep up with his rapid pace. You could feel his movements getting sloppy, but he would not give up until he got one more orgasm out of you.
Your hips began to ache from the position they were in, so you made an attempt to straighten one of your legs out to wrap it around him again. He noticed your struggle, moving back slightly to allow you to do as you needed. Once your legs are locked in place around his waist once more, he held one hand to your hip to keep you steady and snaked his other hand up your body, settling his fingers around your neck. Your stomach fluttered at the new position, excited for him to continue on with his work.
“I need you to cum for me, angel.” He said, carefully settling his fingers over your pulse points, looking over your face for a shred of discomfort. When he found none, it seemed to send him into a whole new frenzy. The knowledge that you would let him do as he pleased with you was driving him to insanity, and he began to regret not bringing you to the bathroom sooner. You were a mess, your dress bunched up around your ribs now, and your tits still free from the top of it. Your mascara was running down your cheeks and your hair was a mess, but he thought you were just as stunning as you were when he first laid eyes on you. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
“Yes, sir.” You choked out, feeling his fingers tightening around your neck. Your eyes closed as you willed yourself to give in to the feeling. The need for a release was unbearable, and your stomach was ablaze with the threat of another climax. As his fingers continued to tighten around your jugular, your head began to spin from the lack of blood flow. The pleasure already coursing through your veins seemed to increase tenfold, and there was no more holding back.
The orgasm tore through you with an intensity that made your whole body tremble. The world felt like it was crashing down around you and your lungs ached for a breath of air. You tried to speak his name, but even that failed you. Your legs trembled around him, exhausted from being held in such a position for so long. You wanted to close your eyes, to give in to the feeling and let it take over. You feared you might die from it, and it was such a peaceful feeling that you felt no need to fight it.
As your body relaxed about the counter, he released his hold on your neck. The sudden rush of air seemed to force you back into reality, and your head slowly stopped spinning. You felt Jake’s hips stutter as he uttered a few curses under his breath. You opened your eyes in just enough time to watch him pull out of you, quickly stepping towards you as he stroked himself a few times. You quickly jumped to action, reaching down and knocking his hand out of the way. It took him by surprise, but when your hand wrapped around him and continued with his previous movements, his head fell back in bliss. It was fast enough that it did not make him lose the momentum, and he was grateful for you taking the control. His eyes squeezed shut as he let out a low groan, spilling his release on to your stomach. You let out a ragged breath, looking down at the mess he’d made, his cock still throbbing in your hand as you worked himself through the last few seconds of his own orgasm.
A shiver ran down his spine as you withdrew your hand. He straightened up, heaving a heavy sigh as he looked down at you, soaking up the last few seconds of having you like that. You gave him a small smile in return, another shred of evil making its way into your brain. You slowly brought your hand to your stomach, making sure to maintain the eye contact. Meticulously, you brought your finger to the cum he’d decorated your stomach with, still warm and inviting. You saw his eyes shift down towards your hand, watching as you ran your finger through it, delicate and soft. When you felt as though he had a good enough of an idea for what you were about to do, you brought your finger to your mouth, parting your lips slightly as you pushed your finger to your tongue. You ran it across the pad of your forefinger, letting out a soft moan as you let your eyes flutter closed.
A soft sound emitted from his throat, close to a whine but a little too deep to be classified as such. You had pushed him over the edge, and if he could have gotten away with it, he would have fucked you again right then and there. Instead, he reached for the paper towel dispenser, ripping off a few sheets and cleaning off your stomach as best he could, despite wishing he could witness you do it all over again. He tossed the used paper in the trash after wiping himself off, then pulled his pants back up.
“Get up,” he said, buckling his belt and adjusting himself to conceal the hard-on that was reluctant to go away.
“What?”
“You can’t listen?” He snapped. “Get the fuck up.” He repeated, clearly still feeding off the sexual energy lingering in the air.
“W-why?” You stuttered, almost expecting him to return to normal after you finished. The brash nature of his voice took you by surprise, but you certainly didn’t mind.
“Because I’m going to take you home, and I’m going to fuck you again.” He explained, stepping forward and landing a soft hand on your thigh. “And again… and probably again after that, until you can’t fucking walk and the only thing you know how to say is my name.” A flood of arousal rushed through you, making your heart beat faster once again. Usually, you would laugh at such a claim, but you knew he was not bluffing in the slightest. With that, he leaned down and grabbed your thong from the ground, looking it over as he held it in his palm. You figured he would give it to you, so you extended your arm out to grab it, but he sent you a sly look through the corner of his eye. Instead of passing them to you, he slipped it in his pocket as a trophy for his night’s endeavour and turned to face you. “What are you waiting for, sweetheart?”
‘Nothing’ was the only proper answer, so you scrambled to your feet to straighten yourself out, already excited for the rest of the night. As you cleaned your makeup in the mirror, you glanced at him over your shoulder, wondering if you could handle all of the things he had in store for you. As you watched him watching you, your stomach fluttered with nervousness, and your heart began to swell with adoration. You could handle whatever he wanted to do for you, but you hoped you could handle it well enough to entertain his brother the night after.
No matter how good he was, nobody was ever good enough to subdue a player like you. You would get your way, just like you did every time, but this time was different; it came with a cost too high to justify. Then again, you lived for a thrill, and there was nothing you weren’t willing to gamble for just a taste of what you desired. As he led you out the front door of the bar with a lingering hand on your waist, you revelled in the bliss of his touch all while fantasizing about what it would feel like to be touched by Josh instead. It made you wonder just how far you could take it before it became too much.
As the two of you walked hand in hand, the vicious cycle continued, and soon enough, you knew that ultimately, a punishment would be due. In your purse, your phone had already been ravished by drunk texts from the brother you had yet to entertain, but could not wait to have for yourself. You knew better, but the idea of having the both of them was too good to pass up. Greed was a wicked motivator, and it was plaguing you. You could only hope that punishment in the eyes of the devil, and especially given by the twin brothers, would be enjoyable more than it would be painful.
TAGLIST: @gretavangroupie @wetkleenex-gvf @edgingthedarkness @clairesjointshurt @jordie-gvf @lallisonl @writingcold @dannys-dream @ageofbajabule @GVFstuddedmajesty @mackalah @watchingover-hypegirl @earthgrlsreasy @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog @Lyndz2names @gretavanomens @josh-iamyour-mama @gretavangirlie @cxffeecakez @stardustjake @highway-tuna @peaceloveunitygvf @dancingcarbon @kiszkas-canvas @thewritingbeforesunrise @myownparadise96 @just-ambam @jakeyt @joshym @demonrat444 @pattypanini @itsafullmoon (if I accidentally missed someone, please let me know 🤍)
#jake kiszka#josh kiszka#jake gvf#josh gvf#gvf#greta van fleet#gvf fic#sam kiszka#danny wagner#sam gvf#danny gvf#josh kiszka angst#josh kiszka blurb#josh kiszka fluff#josh kiszka smut#josh kiszka fic#josh kiszka x reader#jake kiszka series#jake kiszka gvf#jake kiszka angst#jake kiszka fluff#jake kiszka blurb#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka fic#jake kiszka smut#jake kiszka fanfic#josh kiszka series#builtbybrokenbells#lex talionis#gvf smut
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I just finished Golden Wind and I wanna dump my thoughts and interpretations here (I haven’t read the manga so I may be wrong). The main subject here is Diavolo.
JJBA Golden WIND SPOILERS
My extremely unpopular opinion is that I don't think Diavolo is in a death loop/pocket dimension (yeah I don't consider PHF canon for this).
In said loop we were shown the number of deaths equal to the good guys he killed on screen (Bruno, Leone, Narancia and Polnareft).
Giorno told Cioccolata that some stand users feel remorse/regret and stop the power they are using on the other person (contrary to Cioccolata enjoying and causing suffering ). At the end of GW, I can see that Giorno feels slightly scared about his power as he also doesn't even know what GER did, he just knows to some extent that Diavolo won't reach the truth and will see no end. After this I can see him feeling a bit of regret, which makes sense since he is also a Joestar.
The truth Diavolo won't reach is killing Giorno because Giorno changed fate. In the KC vs Metallica fight we saw that Diavolo's premonitions could be changed and what he saw wasn't absolute. The outcome of his final premonition was someone dying (Giorno) which GER changed and the outcome was the same, someone died but this time it was Diavolo (pulling the Oingo Boingo card).
Trish could feel he was still alive and around because Diavolo's death and their talk happened simultaneously. He survived GER punches, the current brought him to that sewer. Simultaneously Trish can still feel him alive. Then Diavolo gets stabbed and dies. Imo this is his real death because it is the only death with a follow up which is the autopsy.He didn't drown, his death was getting stabbed in the liver.
Going back to Giorno. His wish when he pierced himself was to stop and defeat Diavolo. We were shown the arrow dropped at the end and, to me, this means that GER reverted back to GE.
Why? Because simultaneously to this scene Diavolo had finally died from the stab. Fate had completely granted Giorno's wish which was avenging his fallen comrades and defeating the boss, causing GER to revert to GE since he wasn't needed anymore. I definitely believe that the death loop stopped there.
I honestly don't think Giorno would cause neverending suffering to someone. It is not in his character. Maybe it was momentarily done to stop Diavolo and made sure he didn't come back but once he was dead for good, it isn't needed anymore.
Diavolo not seeing the end means that the loop confused his senses and he doesn't know which was his real death.
Ofc Diavolo will still go to hell regardless and pay for his crimes and maybe the punishment is eternal suffering but in Hell.
Which is different to his body and soul dying infinitely in other dimensions or as the whole fandom say “any death is canon”.
Again this is only my interpretation and probably my misunderstanding of the situation.
Or maybe.. I am definitely in denial because Diavolo is my favorite character and I feel like no one deserves the death loop. Cioccolata seemed worse than Diavolo himself.
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how about a healthy serving of Stephen angst to warm you on a chilly autumn night...
14,000,604 ~ ch.four
Stephen reveals one of the most painful aspects of his search for a way to defeat Thanos
"…the initial attack had blasted the whole area down to bedrock, and once Thanos unleashed the full weapon fire from his ship, it cracked the remaining wall of rock that was holding back the lake.” Stephen’s voice had grown ragged, almost hoarse, as he revealed the details of the battle to come. "I’ve lost track of how many times I tried to set all the pieces in place…to marshal my forces so that enough of my fellow sorcerers would be standing ready to hold back that water—but I could never make it work. Moving just one of them away from their battle position changed the course of the overall battle by the littlest bit…“ His hand trembled badly as he held his thumb and index finger together, demonstrating the barest bit of the change that he had dared, ”…but always just enough to throw things off balance, enough that eventually Thanos triumphed—so that it always had to be me to work that spell."
Hope drew a deep breath, her eyes locked on his, and laid her hand against his cheek, like a benediction against the guilt deeply rooted in his soul. She had listened mostly in silence, only speaking up softly when he seemed to lose his train of thought, and patiently urging him to continue only if he felt up to it.
"And that was my last option,” he continued, nearing the crux of what pained him the most, “Only I could keep the battlefield from being flooded—so that the only man on the field who could secure the Stones, and use them to destroy Thanos and all of his forces, would actually have that chance.”
“But he’ll die doing it,” she surmised, “He’s going to die, and you can’t save him…”
Stephen nodded, and then hung his head, “Yes. I’ve tried and tried and tried, Hope…so damn hard…with every power at my command…with every…” He gritted his teeth, exasperated by his own uselessness, “…with every breath I’ve taken since first seeing that outcome…with the full scope of my imagination…to find a solution that won’t cost Tony Stark his life.” Stephen let his shoulders sag, the sting of his shame refreshed as he spoke his failure aloud.
“No,” Hope whispered, clasping both of his hands in hers. "No, Stephen—you have nothing to be ashamed of,” she insisted, her voice growing with conviction, "You’ve done infinitely more than any mortal man could…”
“But it wasn’t enough,” he groaned, shaking his head in denial, “I even explored more than a million outcomes, specifically looking for one where Stark’s fate would fall on me instead—but I could never make it work.” Stephen finally let his tears fall freely, grateful that he was safe in sharing the true depth of his heartache with his ever-gentle confessor. He looked to Hope again, saw only understanding and sweet mercy writ upon her face, and knew he had chosen well to trust in her. "In my old life, I took an oath to do no harm, but when I return to Titan, I’m going to have to save his life, only to ensure that this good man—this father and husband…“
In his mind’s eye, a series of images flickered at the speed of thought, from a newborn baby Morgan in her father’s arms, to her parents joy at each new milestone their child reached, through years of laughter, love, and the challenges of parenthood, and ending with the upbeat farewell that Tony had made to them both, before leaving their secluded haven to head to the Avengers compound in New York. Pepper had calmly kept her tears at bay, not wanting to alarm their precocious little girl; Tony had put on his most casual, cavalier face, but when Morgan tucked her head into the crook of his neck and reminded him that she loved him ‘3,000’, the look he’d exchanged with his wife had devastated Stephen seeing it the first time—and now, just remembering it as well, knowing it was inevitably the last time that Stark would ever hold her.
“…and true hero—will not only craft the method of our salvation, but also die to save the world,” he finished bleakly.
"Oh god,” Hope’s voice cracked with sorrow for his pain. "Stephen, please…please…believe me,” she ran her fingers through the streak of white at his temple, trying her best to assuage him, "You mustn’t do this to yourself…” She closed the little gap between them, drawing his head against her shoulder, sighing hard as she stroked his hair.
“My darling,” she crooned, the first time she had ever used such an endearment for him, “You’ve borne far too much, far too alone, for far too long. If I could just take a little of this burden from you, I’d consider myself blessed.” Through tears of compassion, she repeated his name, “Stephen…my darling, darling Stephen…you mustn’t torture yourself so.”
Soundlessly, he clung to her, his heart grown greedy for the softness she offered by simply being herself. Between this solitary, bitter journey, and the time spent in the loop with Dormammu, Stephen had lived out thousands of years apart from any companionship, let alone understanding and mercy. He had never asked for help or succor in all that time, being only ever focused on protecting and saving lives—nor had he ever expected thanks or any sort of recompense. But for the first time in what felt like an eternity, here was someone who recognized the price he paid to wear the mantle of Master of the Mystic Arts, Time-Stone Wielder and Protector, and guardian of this reality—and often even more.
“Yes, dear,” she murmured, feeling him relax in her arms, while laying the softest kisses he’d ever known on his cheek and near his ear, “Let it go for at least a little while. Know that you’ve done your best, Stephen; that no man could possibly do, or give more, than you already have.”
“It doesn’t feel that way,” he husked against the tender flesh of her neck, breathing in her sunshine warmth and the pale, citrusy scent of her skin. Another memory he would be sure to carry with him into the inescapable future.
“I know, darling,” she whispered against his ear, “I know—but trust me in this, okay?”
Stephen nodded and inhaled deeply, feeling her calm start to fill his lungs, replacing a share of his guilt with relief. When he finally felt ready, he sat back in his chair; Hope was quick to smooth the tears from his cheeks, “You are the best man I've ever known, Stephen Strange. Strong. And kind. And good." Words that felt to him like they came straight from her tender heart. She exhaled slowly, and the knot of anxiety and despair that had been lodged in his chest for a thousand years, began to unclench as he read the truth on her sweet face. "Now, my darling, beautiful, Stephen," she continued calmly. Gently. Lovingly. "There’s something you need to remember…something you might not have thought of…okay?”
He cupped one of her hands against his cheek and nodded again, even managing the ghost of a smile in answer to her request.
“Good.” She gave him the same sort of smile back. "Two things, really. First, that because of you, Tony Stark is going to survive Titan, and have those five beautiful years with Pepper and their daughter. From what you’ve described, it sounds like the life they have, the love they share, is something most people never even get to experience.”
"Alright,” he agreed, for she echoed what the small voice in the back of his mind had been insisting for some time now. "And?”
"And…” she informed him firmly, yet with the same gentleness that marked her regard for him at every turn, “…from everything you’ve told me about Tony Stark, I’m absolutely certain that if given the choice, he would step up to save the world for their sake alone. Don’t you think so?”
He had been so exhausted for so long, and so immersed in his guilt and desperation, that such an idea had not really occurred to Stephen. Now he could almost hear how Stark might exclaim it: If the only way they survive—and that Earth survives—is for me to lose…well, hell, I gotta be on board with that. Stephen closed his eyes, and his breathing slowed and steadied, as he shed another share of the guilt that had become his unflagging companion on this ponderous quest.
"Yes," Hope urged him, "Your burden is heavy enough already without piling on the responsibility for the choice which Stark is bound by his own nature, to make."
He nodded, the warmth of her palm against his cheek soothing him in equal measure to the wisdom of her words. "I don't think I realized until just now how much I needed to hear someone say that," he admitted, looking into her eyes once more, and seeing the gentlest of affirmations there.
Hope's brow furrowed a moment, as though she was perplexed, though her voice held no reproach, "You mean I haven't told you this already, in your previous visits here?"
"I never gave you the chance to," he confessed, regretting that choice in light of her merciful, sympathetic response. "I never confided the entire story to you before."
She hummed softly at that revelation, mulling it over. "Okay...I, uh...I guess I can understand that. But, um..." she lowered her eyes and hesitated a moment, "...what makes this time so different?"
Although Stephen was sure that she had already guessed the reason, he knew he owed her the answer. "Because this time, when I go back," his voice broke with the sad truth of it, "It's going to be for good.
Hope nodded and a couple of tears spilled from beneath her lowered lashes, sympathetic tears for the inevitability of his burden. "I kinda figured that was...that was why." When she met his eyes again, hers shone bright with further tears withheld. "I'm so sorry, Stephen. I wish there was more I could do than just...offer you words...I..." she sighed, "I wish you didn't have to face this all alone."
An unexpected sense of peace filled his chest, and spread throughout his body like the warm flow of blood in his veins. "Oh, honey," he promised her, "I won't be entirely alone. Not anymore. Stephen gathered her other hand in his, and lightly traced his thumb back and forth along the heart and life lines on her palm. "That's your gift to me, Hope. I'm here right now because I knew that you could grant me that last little bit...," he gave her a quiet, bittersweet smile, "...of very human, very humane magic. And that's exactly what I've been needing to see me through to the end of this battle."
Her smile at that was sunshine breaking through thunderheads, so lovely and purely for him that his heart felt like to burst with the bloom of love---the seeds of which had lain dormant since his life had been stolen from him in the shadow of that invading spaceship, too long ago for him to even reckon properly now.
Hope bit her lip, eyeing him with curiosity and her ready humor. "So, tell me, Mr. Remarkable---what comes next?"
"Well," he began, grinning at the nickname she had given him on the day they had met, "I was hoping you would stay with me a while longer. Now that I've nearly reached the end, I believe I can afford a little time to just...be. To simply enjoy your company. Maybe we can sit beneath that silver maple in Washington Square Park again, and I can finally breathe air clean of the haze of battle and feel the sun shine on my face after so much smoke and darkness." And death, he might have added, but for the happiness his suggestion had brought to her face. "And I'm going to take a long, hot shower, because it's been literally a thousand years since I had that luxury."
"Well, I wasn't going to say anything," she teased him, "But you might wanna do just that."
Stephen narrowed his eyes, enjoying her return to playfulness, for it was a form of healing that he had prayed to find in her. Cherishing every moment of their now, while his heart stored all of them up for future comfort---for he still did not know what future awaited him, let alone Hope, once the endgame of this epic, universal struggle played out in full.
“Alright then,” Hope concluded, rising and beginning to clear the dishes away, rinsing them quickly before depositing them in the dishwasher, “Whatever the Master of the Mystic Arts needs, I’m more than happy to provide---it’s the very least that I can do for the salvation of the universe.”
Silently, Stephen stood up while she went about her task, fascinated with---and grateful for---her resiliency, and thanking the universe that had seemed to be so unendurably cruel since Bruce Banner had come crashing through the Sanctum roof, for finally giving him a measure of mercy. He took Hope by surprise, sliding an arm around her waist, and turning her to face him. “Just leave the salvation of the universe in my hands, honey. It’s enough for me that you’re seeing to my own.” With that, he kissed her breathless, before they left the Sanctum arm in arm, in search of sunshine enough to ward off the darkness that awaited him once he resumed his dread task.
Read the full story on AO3
tagging: @dutystricken @mousedetective
buy me a ko-fi?☕️
#my writing#ANGST#with a wee side of comfort#14000604#Doctor Strange#Stephen Strange#Hope Collins#OFC#OC#doctor strange fan fiction#doctor strange fanfiction#stephen strange fanfiction#stephen strange fan fiction#avengers: endgame#Endgame#Strangebatch#My Eternal Muse#Benedict Cumberbatch
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About Me
Lydia
Age 30+
Autistic
Currently Reading
All-Star Squadron (comics)
Infinity, Inc (comics)
X-Men v2 (comics)
Justice League Europe (comics)
Avengers v3 (comics)
Batman: War Games (comics)
Favorite Comic Book Storylines
Batman: Under the Hood
JSA: Return of Hawkman
Legends
Rann-Thanagar War
Batman: No Man's Land
Crisis on Infinite Earths
Zero Hour
JLA/Avengers
Favorite DC Units
Hawkmates (Primarily the Earth-One Silver/Bronze Age Hawkmates before COIE and the Pre-Zero Hour Reboot Thanagarian Hawks. Doesn't mean that I don't hate Kendra/Carter and Shiera/Carter. I love them, but I just prefer the Thanagarian Hawks)
Green Lantern Corps (John Stewart is the Goat. Sorry, Hal, Guy, and Kyle. I don't hate you, I just love John more)
Batfam (If you are an Bruce Wayne anti, you are on thin ice. Talia/Brutalia antis DNI.)
I am starting to get into Wonder Woman
Favorite Ships
DC: Talia/Bruce, Selina/Bruce, Shayera/Katar, Shayera/Carter, John/Katma, WonderTrev, Clois
DCAU: John/Shayera (I don't ship these two outside the DCAU), Diana/Bruce
Areas of Interests: Literature, comic books, movies and history (particularly the Edwardian Age to the European part of WWII)
DNI: Same as bio. Terfs, Radfems, Transphobes, JKR bootlickers, exclusionists, and MAPS.
NOTE: there are some days where I might reblog/post something HP on this blog. I do write fan content for it as well. Tags are cw harry potter, cw hp, harry potter, and hp. Anything critical about the source material will be tagged hp critical and harry potter critical. If you haven't had those first four tags filtered, then I must be ticking an box or two in one of your DNIs, and you might want to turn back and block me. DNIs are supposed to go both ways after all.
"Well, JKR did say that the positive proliferation of her works is a sign that you support her views in secret and are afraid to speak it."
Yes she did say that, and I don't blame you if you don't want to touch HP for claim alone. Personally, I think she's in such an egotistical denial that fans of HP pan her views that she wants to believe that those decrying her support her in secret. Egotistic, abusive narcissists like Joanne don't want to believe that people hate them. They even want to believe that their detractors secretly like them and agree with them despite all evidence of the opposite. Alternatively, it could be her way of turning her detractors against each other. Because a abusive narcissistic would gaslight a trans woman for making her believe that her friend secretly agrees with her. However, that is my prerogative and I don't speak for anyone else (and before you ask, what money you want to spend on Official HP merch, donate it to a Trans Charity or spend it on fanmade HP merch created by an trans woman instead, the latter if you want merch bad enough. And no, DON'T even torrent that upcoming HBO Series, as I just learned that even torrents would get it renewed.)
My AO3
caffienated_biblophile
slytherinmarauder (pseud for HP works)
autistic_stephanie_brown (pseud for DC works)
Bottom line: for the record, I do believe that fiction can affect reality in regards how BIPOC, LGBT+, First Nations, Jews, Muslims, and disabled/neurodivergent/mentally ill people are portrayed in media and that those portrayals can affect the way the GP views those groups. However, the term "fiction does affect reality" isn't applicable to freaking fanfiction and videogames.
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The extras and bloopers on Endgame might actually be the death of me.
#avengers: endgame#avengers endgame#avengers: infinity war#avengers: infinite denial#avengers#avenge the fallen#tony stark#tony stank#robert downey jr#peter parker#tom hiddleston#tom holland#loki#thor odinson#chris evans#chris hemsworth#captain america#captain marvel#black panther#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#scarlett Johansson#clint barton#hawkeye#black widow#jeremy renner
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prompt: “Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.” Thor and Valkyrie
There was a lot to do when they finally reached Earth.
Valkyrie’s public reunion with the king was brief and terse.There was nothing either of them could say, except, “I’m glad you’re stillalive.” And each of them meant it, even if they couldn’t accept it forthemselves. Neither of them especially wanted to still be alive, but that wasthe state of things, and they would rather be alive and on the same planet thandead and floating through space.
In private, they said even less. Simply found a bed, curledaround each other and went to sleep. They had never shared a bed before butneither of them questioned it.
There was work to do. Not rebuilding, because there wasnothing to rebuild, but starting over. Helping what remained of Asgard to startover, at least. It wasn’t a new beginning for Valkyrie and she knew Thor feltthe same. They had lost too much to begin again; they could only endure theending for as long as it had to last.
Thor was known on Earth, and the northern countries werewilling to make a gift of land to one of the old gods, especially one who hadhelped save the world so many times. It wasn’t Asgard, and it would never behome for him or for her, but the air smelled a little like the seas that werenow lost. That small bit of familiarity hurt, but it was the least of all thehurts they shared.
They each knew the other’s hurts now. They were lesspainful, somehow, than their own, so they kept them carefully.
They fell in beside one another, working to build andfinding ways of supporting their people in this new place. Fishing was notglamorous, but it paid, and brewing and distilling were things that Asgardiansexcelled at, and that paid even more. They got by.
Always, at the end of the day, they shared their hurts, theyshared a drink, and they shared a bed. He was king, but a king who had seenmany right hands crushed. She was a warrior, but a warrior alone, withoutfellowship. There was too much behind them to let them build anything newtogether, but they lived, and if they could not live for themselves, they couldlive, at least, for each other.
(Find me on Patreon and Ko-fi!)
#cigaretteburnslikefairylights#thor & valkyrie#thor is a goddamned ray of sunshine#bisexual mess of a valkyrie#infinity war compliant i guess#avengers: infinite denial#mcu#space vikings#angst pony#prompt and ye shall receive#september road trip prompts#prompt fic#prompt fill#tumblr fic
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Companion // A Soft Scarlet Witch/ Vision Playlist
Featuring songs from Nikki Lane, Sam Philips, Alison Krauss, and Hozier, to name a few. Based on Vision and Wanda’s ‘Love Actually’-level life in Edinburgh in Avengers: Infinity War. [Listen]
#scarletvision#vision x wanda#scarlet witch#Wanda maximoff#vision#Nikki lane#sam philips#Alison Krauss#hozier#marvel#playlists#avengers: infinity war#avengers: infinite denial#avengers: infinty war spoilers#avengersedit#Elizabeth Olsen#paul bettany#the avengers#comics#my fucking perfect otp#Wanda x vision#my graphics
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WANDA HAD TO KILL THE ONE SHE WAS IN LOVE WITH TO SAVE THE UNIVERSE ONLY TO EATCH THANOS BRING HIM BACK TO LIFE WITH THE TIME STONE JUST TO TAKE THE MIND STONE AND KILL HIM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
#iw#a: iw spoilers#a: iw#iw spoilers#avengers: infinite denial#avengers: infinity war#infinity war spoilers#infinity war
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If infinity war was happy and my boi peter got to live his dream at making his pop culture references real. he has definitely played portal at least once in his life
#spiderman#infinity war#avengers#avengers: infinity war#avengers: infinite denial#spider-man: homecoming#fanart#peter parker#spider son
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I’m gonna be mean; what do u like about endgame or infinity war or both
okay, it’s easier to talk about what I like about infinity war actually but I’ll go for both just to make things hard for myself!
actually, thematically speaking, I can see the kind of narrative futility/tragedy that they were going for in infinity war and that is a kind of story I am a little bit of a sucker for. like...the losing fight that people still try to fight anyway? it might not be what I come to superhero movies for but it is a type of story that I can get really into for the emotionally crushing fatality of it all.
I’m just kind of a tragedy person sometimes, no big deal.
other things I liked...I really liked Thor’s arc. losing Loki aside, grief-stricken, desperate, nothing-left-to-lose!Thor was a really fun one, for me. don’t get me wrong! I like him when he’s more in sunshine mode, but while it hurts there’s something...mmmm, always very crunchy about a character who wins most of his battles...suddenly losing all of them. or at least the most important ones.
what came after aside, Gamora laughing in Thanos’s face was (briefly) really satisfying.
the “she’s not alone” scene during the battle was legitimately a good Girl Power moment imo (it worked for me, anyway!). also Proxima Midnight was hot.
for Endgame...Natasha’s hair was amazing, possibly among my favorite Natasha looks. the french braid really working for her. in general up until the end Natasha was just great in this movie overall. she got so much to do! she was the one to step up and take the lead when everything fell apart!
Wanda taking a level in badass against Thanos? satisfying. Carol like...headbutting him? also satisfying. that last bit between Gamora and Nebula (”we became sisters”)? very good.
in general I feel like Endgame was a movie that had some very nice character moments. my Clintasha shipper heart also did appreciate them really revisiting and leaning into that relationship as an important one - I think the most any movie has since The Avengers, tbh.
the entire Stark Tower in 2012 time travel sequence was very good for me, particularly everything involving the actual (attempted) Tesseract theft. also like! so many possible alternative universes spawned from that single five minute scene! so. many.
but like. Natasha. and Natasha’s hair.
#reverse unpopular opinion meme#i don't have a generic mcu tag#natasha romanova is better than you#avengers: forever after#avengers: infinite denial#stripedroseandsketchpads#conversating
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im vacillating between reading sexy frostmaster and loki meta
which is just the perfect formula for me to lie on the ground and wheeze
#my angry child deserves so much better#avengers: infinite denial#ℛ : ‘ all the world’s a stage ’ | ooc
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Stephen Strange will buy a birthday gift for Miek in order to get Bucky's attention.
What’s your Endgame?
#avengers: endgame#avengers: infinity war#avengers: infinite denial#avengers#mcu#marvel#buck buck#bucky barnes#stephen strange
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Endgame Spoilers w/o Context
#Avengers assemble#Avengers Press Tour#avengers: infinite denial#avengers: infinity war#avengers endgame#Avengers#tony stark#Robert Downey Jr#iron man#hawkeye#clint barton#steve rogers#captain america#chris evans#scarlett johansson#black widow#hulk#the incredible hulk#bruce banner#mark ruffalo#chris hemsworth#thor#spiderman#peter parker#tom holland#black panther#captain marvel#jeremy renner
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“I will kill you, burn you and dance on your ashes.” “You’ve probably been told this before, but wow, you are intense.” Valki?
“I’m not going to let you get away with this,” Valkyrie snarled, grinding her knee into the prince of Asgard’s throat as he lay on the bed, and pointing a dagger directly at his left eyeball. “With this - this - whatever the hell this is. I swear by all my fallen sister, I will kill you, burn you and dance on your ashes.”
“You’ve, ah, you’ve probably been told this before,” said Loki, in his most conciliatory tone of voice, and keeping his eyes always on the tip of Valkyrie’s blade, “but wow, you are intense.”
“Comes with the job. Now. What are you planning to do with that thing?”
“What thing?”
“The one I saw you playing with.”
“Oh, now that’s rather an insulting question, considering what we were just doing–urk!” Her knee was beginning to crush his windpipe. “I really–have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you? So does that mean you want to look even more like your old man?” The knife descended closer to his eye.
“I know you’re happy to oblige, of course, but I swear–”
“On what, your mother’s life?”
Loki’s placating air vanished. “If she were still alive,” he said quietly, “I might. As things stand, I’m afraid you’ll just have to accept my word. I’m not planning anything nefarious, at the moment. Nothing that need concern you or our glorious king, at any rate.”
For a few seconds, they stared stonily at one another, until finally Valkyrie huffed and got up. “Sorry,” she lied.
“Well, it’s not how I’d normally divert myself on a night of passion…” Loki stood carefully, massaging his neck, and stretched out the various kinks and cramps he had acquired, both before and during Valkyrie’s detour into threats of violence. “But I’m used to it.”
“Don’t bullshit me. You get off on that stuff.”
“Oh, I’m always up for a bit of rough. It’s the accusations of plotting treason that become tiresome.” He threw himself back down on his bed and pillowed his chin on his folded arms. “So did you actually have some sort of evidence behind that accusation? Or were you just assuming because of my illustrious reputation?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly think that blue neon cube I saw you fiddling with a few minutes ago was going into any drinks, if you get my meaning.”
Loki grimaced. “You weren’t meant to see that. Careless of me.”
“So you are hiding something from Thor.”
“Of course I am. I’m always hiding something from Thor. Just as I was always hiding something from Odin. Then, it was spitefulness. Now it’s necessity. Sometimes someone needs to keep certain information away from the king, for his own sake. Surely you, with all your centuries of service, can understand that.”
“Maybe,” said Valkyrie, after a moment. She went and sat on the end of the bed, which forced Loki to flip over onto his back, exposing all his soft vulnerable parts in order to be able to maintain line of sight. “And if Thor’s not meant to know, I’m probably safe in thinking that it’s a thing you’re not meant to have.”
Something dark and fearful passed behind Loki’s eyes. “No one’s meant to have it.”
“What is it?”
“It’s the shackle around my neck, the thing for which I gave up what mediocre birthright I can claim to possess. It’s an Infinity Stone.”
Valkyrie let out a low whistle. “I always thought those things were nothing but a legend.”
“For a long time, that’s all they were. And I wish to heaven that they had stayed that way.” Loki reached up and touched her bare arm. “It’s true that Thor doesn’t know I have it. There are… any number of reasons why I would prefer him not to know. One of those reasons is my own safety.”
“Of course it is…”
“Another, and far more important reason, is for Thor’s safety. So promise me that you won’t mention this to him.”
Valkyrie hesitated.
“Brunnhilde.” He sat up and twisted around, and took her hands in his. “Promise me. For all our sakes.”
She searched his face for a long time. “All right,” she said finally, plainly still not satisfied. “I promise. But I’ll probably hate myself for it, eventually.”
Loki replied with a lopsided smile, and an all-too-dry, “Of that, I have no doubt.”
#anonymous#valki#lokyrie#loki x valkyrie#loki honey you're a mess#bisexual mess of a valkyrie#mcu#space vikings#post-ragnarok#avengers: infinite denial#prompt and ye shall receive#(eventually)#prompt fill
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okay, @ thanos, the solution to overpopulation is not "kill everybody"
#iw#a: iw spoilers#a: iw#iw spoilers#avengers: infinite denial#avengers: infity war spoilers#avengers: iw spoilers#avengers: infinity war#avengers: iw
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