#i ❤️ inferno so much

[4getfulimaginator2022]

WIP Word Post

Huzzah! Tagged by @fandomsbyladymelodrama. Thank you 😊 Also, a fellow OUaT fan?! Wow!!!! Wasn't that show a train wreck of chaos? 😂 Some parts were fun, though! I jumped on the Captain Swan (Killian x Emma) bandwagon in season 2 onwards.

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your WIP that starts with each letter of that word. (I have archived 2 other WIPs because too many things coming up - Jorleesi Gift Exchange, birthday, work - so I technically have only 2 ongoing WIPs at the moment, Heart Bound for Captain Swan and Inferno for Jorleesi). I'll be using my beloved Inferno for this tag game.

M

Missandei jumped up from her chair, walked away from the main library desk, and enveloped Daenerys in a warm embrace that only a very dear friend could give.

A

After all their individual struggles, sitting on a picnic blanket together and enjoying the tranquil afternoon as a family was a dream come true.

G

"Gods, Daenerys."

I

In every restaurant, there should always be live music.

C

Customers loved Daenerys, but many of their elderly regulars were becoming quite fond of Jeor as well.

Hope you found these quotes insightful! 😏 I'm tagging @rileypotter17, @clarasimone, @houseofthebear, @youcancallme-ray and @gettingovergreta. Your word is LOVE. 💕

[zepskies]

Hey could I request angsty and fluffy headcanons for Dean having a crush on reader but he thinks she has a crush on Sam but she actually has a crush on Dean back

Hey lovely!

So I kiiiind of already did this type of prompt with "Dean gives you an impossible choice" and its sequel, "Choosing Him."

But I'll do another imagine in this vein for you! ❤️

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst(ish), fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Dean reads you wrong.

When Dean falls for someone, it's "slow and steady wins the race."

But the spark. That spark is instant.

He feels it with you.

Your pretty smile. Your "get it done" attitude that mirrors his. The way you know all of his references, whether it's movies or TV or music — you grew up learning how to tell time from what was on TV, just like him.

It's the way you laugh with him, share quiet moments of contemplation with him, and even moments of grief with him. Even when it's his grief, you always come. Whether it's to sit beside him, or share a drink with him, or make him something you know he likes, or get him to take a drive with you.

But realistically, you have more in common with Sam.

Both of you are bookish (nerds). You two get into heated discussions about Dante's Inferno and proper Latin translations. (You always accuse Sam of his pronunciations being off, while Sam argues, "At least I remember the whole exorcism. You think the damn demon cares if my vowels are off?")

You and Sam bicker. You playfully tease him, bring smiles to his face just as often as you bring them to Dean's. You're comfortable with him, playfully jabbing his arm or his chest when you mess with him.

Sam takes it with a smile, or a slight roll of his eyes, but always with fondness.

Dean can't help the churning in his stomach. Every time he thinks he has a read on you. Every time he thinks it's safe to maybe, one day, after a hunt, after an episode of Dr. Sexy, after you get out of the shower, after he's made you a home-cooked meal, after you sit with him and talk about everything and nothing while he works on his car — he thinks he might have a shot if he asked you out.

But he always falters, because he just can't fucking tell. He thinks you and Sam have something.

And Dean...he likes you. A lot.

More than he's ever willingly expressed.

But despite his reputation with women, he's never, and will never, step on his brother's toes.

Until he can't help himself.

It's your birthday. Sam got you a series of books he recommended to you last month. (Again, fucking nerds.) Dean got the booze and made the food to celebrate.

But you're surprised, and even a little teary when he brings out the cake he bought at an honest-to-God bakery. He even stood in line, waited 30 minutes to have them write your name on it, with little balloons. The frosting letters are drawn in your favorite color.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," Dean tells you. His tone is a little too soft. It's because he sees your unshed tears, and his heart clenches.

It's just a fucking cake.

Does it really matter that much to you?

But he still feels a well of warmth and pride in his chest. He turns to his brother with a smirk. "I win."

It's meant to be playful, but he kind of means it. Sam just eyes him knowingly.

"Sure," Sam laughs.

What the hell does that mean? Dean nearly frowns. But he's soon distracted — by you leaning in close to kiss him on the cheek.

He turns just in time (with slightly wider eyes) to see you blush.

That smile tells him something.

"Thanks, guys," you say to both of them. But your hand lingers on Dean's wrist, squeezing a bit.

At the end of the night, Sam turns in early. You stick around to help Dean clean up.

"Aw, stop. You're the birthday girl. I got this," Dean says, waving you off. You join him at the kitchen counter and lay a hand on his arm.

"Dean," you say softly. It earns his attention. You look a little nervous, your eyes falling from his, then meeting them again.

"What's the matter?" he asks. His brows furrow. He's thinking of your lips on his cheek. Unconsciously he glances down at your pretty mouth.

"Was wondering if you could help me with a birthday wish," you said.

A smile begins to tug at your lips, and Dean can't help but smile back. Intrigue, and a small tremor of something triggers up his spine.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" he asks.

You bite your lip. "Okay...I'm going to ask you this once. Yes or no. And if it's no...then we won't talk about it ever again and you'll have to wipe it out of your memory, because I don't want to make things weird or make you uncomfortable and I don't want to have to do something drastic, like leave the Bunker—"

Dean's smile falls as his brows raise in slight alarm. He also raises placating hands to stop your verbal flapping.

"Whoa, hey. What? What the hell kinda birthday question is this?"

You close your eyes and take a breath. "Okay."

Your eyes open, and as what happens far too often, Dean's captured by them.

"Close your eyes for me," you request.

"My eyes need to be closed to answer a damn question?"

"Damn it, Dean. Just do it, please!"

He lets out a slightly peeved breath, but he obliges you, shutting his lids. He really doesn't know what the hell is going on...until you lay a bracing hand on his chest and press a soft kiss to his lips.

For a moment, he freezes.

He inhales deeply through his nose as the surprise fades.

Relief floods in its wake.

A smile reaches his face.

But soon enough, before you can pull away, he grasps your upper arms to hold you in place. He dips his head down to kiss you in earnest. His lips find yours, gentle at first, and then gaining in passion.

He learns quickly the pattern of your lips, and the heady feeling of that knowing travels straight to his brain, stronger than the whiskey he drank earlier.

It's like you two were made to move together. To end up just like this.

You both are breathless by the time your eyes slide open and meet one another.

Dean's lips curve into a smirk. "How's that answer for ya?"

Your smile is beaming bright.

"Yeah, that works."

Chuckling, he pulls you in closer and tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing your blush-warmed cheek.

And he answers you again.

AN: Ugh, I'm sappy as hell. 😂 Hope you liked this! Let me know what you think. 😉

Read Sam’s version: “Sam reads you wrong.”

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[world0fmadness]

MILK, NOT FOR VOMITING

lewis hamilton x old youtube icon! wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter

faceclaim: assorted

୨୧ i know the title is stupid because babies do burp up milk but if you watched old maxmoefoe and stuff you get it! i don’t know if you can even make dual user posts on instagram but in this smau, you can! super special thank you to @misty-inferno for providing me with the pictures of lewis and roscoe and for helping me have the confidence to post this now :)

lewishamilton and ynwiththecamera: surprise! baby hamilton ln coming soon 🍼 🧸 🕯 i will be coming back to youtube after baby boo is born to archive memories with them and document my journey with parenthood! i know that’s much different from the content i used to make but i’ve moved on and grown as a person, i’m sure you can all understand - love, yn and lewis

sebastianvettel ✔️: so excited for you two, you’ll make great parents ❤️ - sebastian

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> lewishamilton ✔️: thanks again sebastian!

lewynforever: ITS HAPPENING OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING

> lewynforever: DILF LEWIS AND MILF YN IS HAPPENINGGGG

maxmoefoe ✔️: first word has to be “chef” or you’ve got to bin it

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and joji

> ynwiththecamera ✔️: yes chef!

lewisontop: they already have a nursery set up this early on? oh that’s how you know they’re rich rich…

> lewynforever: or they just wanted to get it over and done with and have the means to do so?

joji: congratulations yn! you’ll make an amazing mother ❤️

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> cancercrewforever: he’s actually not wrong, whenever him, max or ian used to get a really bad cut or something she’d kind of fret over them before mocking them 😭

lewynforever: the mini f1 car oh my goood 💔

> lewishammy: i wonder who got it for them 🥹

> georgerussell ✔️: 🙋🏻‍♂️ had to secure my place as favourite uncle quick, there’s too much… competition… if you can even call it that

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera

> charlesleclerc ✔️: 🤨

> maxverstappen ✔️: 🤨

> fernandoalonso ✔️: 🤨

> ilovef1: oh he’s so proud of that gift lmao

> oldf1lover: george is so competitive when it comes to stuff like this, it kills me 😭

loveyouyn: YN LN RETURNS TO YOUTUBE LETS GOOO

ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton: bump progression and finally, the arrival 🤍 winnie hamilton ln

maxverstappen ✔️: congratulations guys! can’t wait to meet her

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

lewynforever: GIRL DAD LEWIS GIRL DAD LEWIS

dilflewishamilton: i don’t know if my heart is ready for girl dad lewis content

georgerussell ✔️: coming over as soon as i can, i need to meet my niece and she needs to meet her favourite uncle

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> charlesleclerc ✔️: 🤨

> maxverstappen ✔️: 🤨

> fernandoalonso ✔️: 🤨

lewisontop: WINNIE 😭 SO CUTE

sebastianvettel ✔️: congratulations on the baby girl you guys! good luck ❤️ - sebastian

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> lewynforever: “ good luck ” 😭

> ynwiththecamera ✔️: thanks a bunch for the gifts and well wishes sebastian!

lewisontop: the little slippers… i just felt my heart explode…

lewishamilton uploaded to his story!

ynwiththecamera: new vlog out today! it mainly focuses on how me and lewis are adjusting in the early months of new parenthood, watch here👩‍🍼 🤍 🥞

lewynforever: of COURSE their baby is decked out in designer and jewellery 😭

lewishamilton ✔️: love my girls so much ❤️

liked by ynwiththecamera

> dilflewishamilton: ARGHHH MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS

> dilflewishamilton: ITS JUST TOO DOMESTIC

> dilflewishamilton: AND SO CUTE

maxverstappen ✔️: judging by the bags under lewis’ eyes and the smile on his face everytime i see him, i’d say you two are adjusting well!

> lewishamilton ✔️: thank you very much max…

loveyouyn: this baby’s wardrobe is probably worth more than my apartment… i don’t even know how to feel about that

georgerussell ✔️: i spy with my little eye the necklace i got winnie ON winnie!

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> lewishamilton ✔️: she loves it, thanks mate

> maxverstappen ✔️: yeah well i spy with MY little eye the shoes i got her!

> georgerussell ✔️: shoes are shit, necklace is better 😗

> lewynforever: they’re having a mid off 😭

lewishamilton: beach and boat day with my girls 🏝

lewishammy: yn is one lucky woman, holy moly

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera

georgerussell ✔️: did little winnie collect those shells?

> lewishamilton ✔️: yeah, we’re thinking about getting some of them made into necklaces

> georgerussell ✔️: i hope i’ll be getting one, considering i’m her favourite uncle

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera and lewishamilton

> charlesleclerc ✔️: and where have you heard that exactly?

> georgerussell ✔️: winnie told me herself!

> charlesleclerc ✔️: she can’t even say words aside from “mama” and “papa” yet, idiot

> charlesleclerc ✔️: and even if she could talk full sentences, everyone knows i’m her favourite

> oldf1lover: HES GOING TO GET NECKLACES MADE OUT OF THE SHELLS HIS BABY GIRL FOUND ON THE BEACH SHUT UPPPP HOW IS THIS MAN SO PERFECT

> lewynforever: this confirms my theory that lewis is the type of dad to keep EVERYTHING his baby ever gives him… rock from the driveway? thank you! piece of paper? absolutely! leaf from a tree in the garden? so thoughtful!

charlesleclerc ✔️: did she not get seasick on the boat?

> lewishamilton ✔️: my girl? get a grip! you guys might be a bunch of wusses but not my winnie

> ynwiththecamera ✔️: yes… she did… all over lewis’ shirt

❤️ liked by charlesleclerc

> lewishamilton ✔️: i was trying to spare her the embarrassment of people knowing, love!

> ynwiththecamera ✔️: lew… she’s a baby, she doesn’t even know what embarrassment is yet ❤️

ilovef1: lewis hamilton the dilf that you are…

❤️ liked by ynwiththecamera

> lewishammy: lmao i see you yn, liking every thirst comment, you love your man, good for you girl

landonorris ✔️: was that fourth picture necessary sir hamilton?

lewishamilton ✔️: what’s wrong with it?

landonorris ✔️: ASS CHEEK 😟 you’re parents now, can’t post stuff like that now can you?

> lewishamilton ✔️: who’s let you out of the daycare pen then?

ynwithethecamera: me and lewis took winnie and roscoe to a slaughter rescue farm this week! watch the vlog here 🐑 👒 🦙

lewishamilton ✔️: one of my favourite trips we’ve taken with her so far ❤️

loveyouyn: her vlogs literally make my month…

> lewishammy: same 😭 they’re so domestic and cute!

ilovef1: is this the one they donated a bunch of money to?

dilflewishamilton: more winnie content </3 my heart can’t take it

> lewynforever: her little hat 🥹

f1forlife: i need to STOP watching these vlogs because they give me the worst baby fever ever…

> lewishammy: for real 😭 and because they come out every two weeks it’s like as soon as i manage to shake the baby fever, she uploads another domestic vlog with lewis being the dream husband and father and boom, baby fever is back and stronger than ever

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

my head hurts so unfortunately, no actual added bonus for this one… except a gif of maxmoefoe <3 thanks for reading!

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Dark Shades of Innocence Lost Part 1: Introductions✨

Club owner! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Here is my new club owner Joel series! Thank you to the lovely @janaispunk for making me this beautiful mood board ❤️ Joel Miller is the biggest menace in this one. I wanted to somehow mix a little 50 Shades of Grey but also create something unique and super hot, so hope you enjoy 50 Shades of pleasure dom Joel! Comments and reblogs are most appreciated. Let me know your thoughts on this one! As always, I LOVE writing and hope you enjoy my stories as much as I love writing and sharing them with you 💕

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Word Count: 9.7k

Tags: No outbreak au, thigh riding, Joel’s dirty mouth, flirting, pining, fingering

Summary: After your friends drag you out to Club Inferno on a Friday night, you meet an unexpected man with dark brown eyes. That man is Joel Miller, who turns out to be the owner of the club. The menace that will turn your life upside down. After not dating for a couple of years, Joel finds out and strikes up a proposition for you. Keep coming back and he’ll make sure you experience pleasure like you’ve never felt before.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s Friday night and instead of sitting down with a cold glass of white wine and a book on the couch, you’re currently standing in a dress that’s too tight and heels so high you think you’ll fall over at any minute. The tight black dress clings to your body like a suction cup, and the slit in the side of your left thigh is almost showing too much skin the more you move around.

You spent the last hour sitting at your glowing vanity, curling your hair into long spirals and putting on smokey dark eyeshadow that makes your eyes stand out and deep red lipstick that sits matted against your lips. This isn’t your usual. You like to stay in after a long week at the library, not go clubbing till 2:00am. You’re not an extrovert like all your friends are, so this is a once in a while thing you even do.

You take one more look at yourself in the mirror and sigh heavily. This will be good for you. You need to socialize. You need to get back into the dating field, but that honestly just sounds like a nightmare right now. Dating in general just sucks. It’s like no man knows how to even properly treat a woman nowadays. Your last boyfriend was a complete nightmare. Tall, lanky, sports obsessed, demanded blowjobs without even offering to go down on you once. That’s how all the guys had been in the past, and you were honestly just over it. Fuck men.

Before you can get all worked up about past boyfriends, you head to your apartment door when you hear a sharp knock and giddy laughter on the other side. That meant the girls were here. Here goes nothing. When you open the door, Brianna and Taylor lose it when they see what you’re wearing.

“Oh my God, look at you!” Brianna screams as Taylor twirls you around to get a good look at you. Brianna’s soft brown eyes and long blonde curls look you over from head to toe. “You’re such a babe! And that dress? God, it makes your ass look so good and that slit in your dress?! You are definitely going to get laid tonight,” she shrieks as she gives you a quick hug hello.

“Bri, stop!” you laugh, shaking your head no. “I am not getting laid tonight. I’m so over guys,” you cringe as you roll your eyes.

“Oh, please. All the men are going to be looking at you tonight, you little slut!” Taylor smirks as her green eyes sparkle like emeralds when she looks at your short dress. Her pinned up red hair sits perfectly in a messy bun atop her head, her white heels digging into the wooden floor as she circles you.

“No, guys. Really, I don’t need to try to find someone tonight. I’m only going out because you’re forcing me to,” you complain with a huff.

“Sure, babe. That vibrator that sits in your nightstand isn’t gonna get you anywhere fast. You need to be laid properly. So we’re gonna find you a man tonight if it’s the last thing we do,” Brianna says with a beam of a bright smile.

“Whatever, let’s just go. I need a drink,” you whine as they pull you out of the comfort of your small apartment and whisk you out the door, shoving you inside the White Cadillac that sits idle on the corner of the curb.

You slump in the front passenger seat as soon as Brianna drives off, entering the busy traffic of Austin as the city lights flash brightly outside the window. You sigh and lean on the edge of the window as Taylor Swift’s “Karma” blasts through the speakers. Taylor and Brianna sing along loudly, but you sit mute with your arms crossed across your chest.

“Oh, cheer up, babe! You’re supposed to be having fun tonight, not brooding in the corner like a pent up prisoner,” Brianna laughs as she hits your arm lightly.

“I’d be in a better mood if I was curled up on my couch with a good book,” you groan as you stifle out another sigh.

Taylor leans over the back of the front seat and takes a good look at you. ���Don’t be such a buzzkill. You will have fun tonight whether you like it or not! This club is to die for. I know it just opened last year, but seriously it’s the hottest club in Austin,” she says excitedly with a big grin zipped across her contoured face.

“What’s the name of this club again?” you ask with furrowed eyebrows.

“Club Inferno,” Taylor says with a smirk. “Inferno is right. It’s hot as fuck in there, and the men that go are super sexy,” she swoons as she sits back against her leather seat.

“Club Inferno, huh? Wonder how the owner came up with a name like that,” you ask curiously as you focus your sights on the busy sidewalks that are littered with dressed up couples and groups that look like they’re about to head to the club as well.

“I don’t know, babe. Maybe you can ask the owner yourself,” Brianna smirks in the front seat.

“Who’s the owner?” you ask, trying not to sound too intrigued.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t say online, but I hear rumors that he’s ridiculously hot. Like I’m talking about an 11/10 hot,” she smirks as she pulls into a parking spot a few feet from the lit up club.

“Sounds like someone I wouldn’t be interested in. He already sounds arrogant and like all the other men I’ve dated,” you spit out, a snarl hanging on your lips.

“Oh, just shut up and have some fun tonight, please. You’re killing my vibes,” she says as she rolls her eyes and puts the car in park.

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll try to have fun,” you sigh as you step out of the car onto the hard concrete, pulling your dress down so it doesn’t ride up and expose too much skin.

“Good, now let’s go drink and dance!” Brianna and Taylor scream together. You just laugh and follow them to the front of the club, stopping at the metallic black double doors as you get your IDs checked. Once they give them back, you step into the club and gasp at the sight.

The inside is absolutely gigantic. The club sits two stories high with a shimmering disco ball hanging in the middle of the crowded dance floor. The walls are pitch black with red glowing signs all around that say “Club Inferno”. The sign that sits behind the bar is also glowing red and says “Sinners Welcome”. The bar has a large mirror splayed across the wall with bottles of beer and liquor stacked high against it. The bar top has a sleek dark wooden hue to it and the bar stools are made of black leather material.

There’s dark booths all around that are marked off for VIP lounges, private parties, or reservations made prior. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling as they make shiny patterns on the dark hardwood floors. An open lounge area sits in the opposite corner of the bar where leather couches and small glass tables sit scattered around. You look away when you see a cozy couple making out in a corner of one of the couches and try not to roll your eyes.

When you turn towards the dance floor, you see the glow of fluorescent blue and red flashing lights mix in with the glittering disco ball as the Dj spins some tracks on a large display against the wall. The dance floor is crowded, maybe two-hundred people at the least stand grinding up on each other as Rhianna blasts through the speakers. Two platforms with poles attached to the center sit in the back corners of the room for anyone to use at their leisure.

Behind the bar sits two long, dark hallways with various rooms attached down the shadowed corners of the hallway. A spiral staircase sits next to the second hall and leads up to the second floor. From here you can’t see what all is upstairs, but it looks like another bar sits up there and maybe some pool tables from what you can see. This club wasn’t anything like you expected it to be. You thought it’d be small and maybe less crowded. Boy, were you wrong.

“Don’t you love it in here?!” Taylor asks excitedly as she twirls around in her short forest green strapless dress and pulls you to the dance floor.

“It’s a lot bigger than I imagined it to be,” you shout out loudly against the beat of the music. “Tay, we just got here. Can’t we sit down?” you whine as Brianna pulls you into the middle of the raging crowd.

“Not until after a couple of dances,” Taylor smiles as she pushes her back against a man in a suit that grinds up against his blonde girlfriend. You groan but go along with them.

“Loosen up, hun. The night’s just started. We’ll get some alcohol in you, and you’ll be just fine,” Brianna beams as she grabs a few Jell-O shots from the bartender that makes her away across the busy dance floor. “Drink up!” she yells as she hands you a container of red liquid.

“Fine,” you groan as you pop the shot into your mouth and instantly taste cherry and vodka mixed together. It slides down your throat easily, and you put the empty vial on the bartender’s tray. Taylor and Brianna both cheer after you take the shot and start grinding up against each other as the music switches over to a Beyoncé song.

You decide to try to enjoy yourself and sway your hips, getting into the song as the dance floor rocks back and forth. You keep your focus on the shimmering disco ball and watch the way the sparkling glass reflects off the walls. You keep your eyes from staying too much in the crowd and focus on your friends as they lift their arms and shimmy their hips to the beat.

After a couple of long songs, they agree to take a break and get some drinks. You and Taylor find an empty couch and sit down while Brianna goes up to the bar and orders a round of LITs for the table. After a few minutes, she returns with the glasses of alcohol and passes them out. You take a big gulp and feel the remnants of alcohol run down your throat with a slight burning sensation staying stagnant in your mouth.

“So, see any cute guys you might be interested in?” Taylor asks as she looks around the crowded club, focusing her eyes on a tall man with short blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. “What about that one, huh? He’s kinda cute,” she says with a flirtatious smile as she eyes him.

You scrunch your nose up and shake your head. “No, Taylor. Not that one. Maybe you can go talk to him. He looks like your type,” you laugh as you watch her eye him up and down. You take another sip of your drink and set it on the glass table as the condensation drips down the glass.

Brianna smirks at you and looks from the bar, back to you a few times. “Bri, what? I know that look. That’s a plotting face you always make when you’re up to no good.”

She just smiles wider. “You see that man at the bar? That one on the left corner with the white collared button-up shirt?” She points him out and you flick your eyes over in that direction nonchalantly.

The man she points out is sitting in one of the barstools and sips casually on a cold glass of what looks to be whiskey. You slowly drag your eyes over him, taking in the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows to expose thick veins that spider all the way down his arms to end in massive hands. His biceps bulge against the cotton material every time he flexes and moves to grab his cold glass of alcohol. His dark blue jeans press up against muscular thighs and a fancy black watch sits latched onto his left wrist. His hair is dark and streaked with grey lines as thick tousled curls sit wildly atop his head. A dark, patchy beard shadows his sculpted, sharp jawlines.

Your eyes move over his greying locks again slowly, taking in the way a couple curls fall against his forehead subtly. His curls look soft to the touch, you almost wonder what it’d be like to run your fingers through his hair or maybe drag your nails against that salt and pepper scruff…

You jolt out of your daydream as his eyes linger over to yours, calmly taking another drink of whiskey as his eyes stay locked on yours. You pull your eyes away and look back at Brianna. “What about him?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“The man hasn’t stopped looking at you since you walked into the club,” she giggles as you go wide-eyed.

“Oh, he has not. Please, he’s got to be looking at you or Taylor,” you reply as she looks back up at the bar.

“I don’t think so, honey,” Taylor laughs as she knocks you in the shoulder with her arm. “He’s looking straight at you.”

You look back up and freeze. His dark eyes find yours again as a small smirk appears on the edge of his mouth, curling into something that dares you to challenge his gaze. You suck in a breath and look back down, grabbing your drink as you try to calm your nerves down. Calm down, calm down. He’s just a guy. He’s probably not even interested in anything you have to say.

“You’re going to go talk to him,” Brianna smiles deviously as she narrows her eyes and smirks up at you.

“What?!” you choke out, the liquid flowing down your windpipes uncomfortably. “No, no way. I can’t.”

“Yes, you are,” Taylor encourages you. “He’s totally gorgeous. Like come on. He’s clearly at least in his upper forties. Older, probably has a lot of money, dresses nicely, and I see no wedding ring on him,” she smirks, eyes darkening as she gets up and pulls you along for the ride.

“No, Tay. Please, I can’t. I’m not…”

She cuts you off as Brianna joins in, pulling you towards the bar as your feet try to stay planted to the spot you’re in. “You’re not what? Look at you, you’re hot. Don’t waste it by being boring. Go talk to him,” she encourages as she pulls you further, halfway to the bar now as you see him in the corner of your vision eyeing you.

“No, guys. Come on. I’m too… I can’t…”

Brianna stops you from saying anything else. “Look, you're going to go talk to him, and he’s going to buy you a drink, and then me and Tay are going to go back out there and dance. And you’re going to go up there and flirt with him and twirl your hair and get his number,” she says seriously as she drags you to the edge of the bar.

“But I… he’s too… I can’t…” you stutter out.

“Go on, babe. You can do it.” Brianna and Taylor give you a hard push and shove you against the edge of the bar, only a few bar stools away from the man with the dark eyes. “Have fun,” Brianna whispers in your ear with a laugh as she grabs Taylor’s hand and leads her away from the bar, leaving you all alone with your heart pounding uncontrollably in your chest.

You take a seat on one of the empty black bar stools and rest your arms on the sleek bar top, looking over the menu nervously as you flip through the pages of drinks. You don’t look up, afraid that if you do you’ll lock eyes again with the handsome stranger. No more dating, no more dating, no more dating.

“Is this seat taken?” A deep Southern voice fills your ears as you look up and find the man with dark eyes looking down at you.

Fuck.

“Ummm no,” you answer shyly as you tuck a curl behind your ear, cursing your friends for pushing you into doing this.

“Mind if I sit?” he asks with a raised brow. You nod and he pushes back the empty bar stool, lightly brushing his leg against yours as a chill runs down your spine at the contact.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks as he looks you over slowly, making your eyes widen at the action.

“Oh, sure,” you respond meekly, putting the drink menu down before you rip it in half from the way you’re anxiously flipping through the pages.

“So, what’s your drink of choice?”

You muster up an ounce of courage and fire back a question without thinking. “What do you think my drink of choice is?” you ask flirtatiously, batting your eyelashes up at him as if to win him over. Your adrenaline spikes in your body, and it’s as if the alcohol turned you into another girl.

What the fuck is wrong with you? This isn’t like you. You don’t flirt with men at clubs, especially gorgeous men like him. But he’s so hot, you can’t resist. Fuck.

He chuckles at the question and drags his eyes nice and slow over your body, clenching his jaw up as he concentrates on you. You can see the calculations and assumptions he’s making swirl and tick in his mind. He’ll never guess right. He’s just like any other guy. They all get it wrong, always.

His eyes flick back up to your face as a gentle smile spreads over his mouth, forming dimples that press deep into his cheeks.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

“Hmmm, let me see,” he starts slow, his words slipping like melted butter off his tongue. “You don’t seem like the type to drink hard liquor. Fireball? Definitely not. Tequila? Can’t see it. But hmmm, let me guess…” He takes another good look at you and stares into your eyes. Those warm brown eyes searing through you as you melt into them.

God, those eyes. Those fucking brown doe eyes.

“Rum? Maybe. Vodka? Most likely. Whiskey… maybe a whiskey girl. But you…” He leans in closer, and you can smell the cologne dripping off his skin. Can practically taste the whiskey that encompasses his lips. Can almost feel how his mouth would taste with his tongue gliding against yours.

You focus on deep breaths as he rests his large hand right next to yours, barely brushing the tips of his fingers against yours as goosebumps start to crawl slowly up your arm. He laughs lightly as he forms a guess with a Southern drawl dripping off his tongue. “Malibu tonic? Guessin’ you’re a fruity cocktail kind of girl.”

“How did you know that’s one of my favorite drinks?” you ask with a wide-eyed stare.

“Just an assumption, sweetheart. I’m pretty good at readin’ people. Especially ones as pretty as yourself,” he smirks, turning toward the bar to call over one of the bartenders.

Sweetheart? Pretty? Oh fuck, you’re in trouble.

As soon as the blonde bartender comes over, he wastes no time and gives her your drink orders. “One Malibu tonic and one Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whiskey on the rocks. Thanks, Hailey,” he smiles softly and nods as she smiles back and turns away, getting the drinks prepared in a flash.

Hailey? Of course he knows her by name. He probably knows every fucking girl in this obscene club by name.

You frown, a tinge of jealousy hitting the back of your closed up throat. But why are you jealous? You don’t care about this man, don’t care if he even buys you a drink. You don’t date, and there’s a reason you don’t anymore. But that’s a dark place you won’t go tonight or ever again.

He notices the shift in your mood as you sit up straighter and clench your jaw into place, focusing on not losing your temper over a simple thing as a name.

“Y’alright there? Look a little tense,” he asks, hovering his thick fingers closer to your hand as you pull away from him.

“I’m fine,” you bite back a little too harshly. He doesn’t respond, only nods. He knows you’re not fine, but he doesn’t press on it.

When the bartender comes over to drop off your drinks, you can’t help but notice the small silver name tag that’s latched on to the front of her black low-cut tank top. The name Hailey is in sparkly letters, and you feel shame instantly cover your face.

You’re a fucking idiot.

You take a sip of the fruity liquid and let it slide down the back of your throat, along with the bitterness and jealousy that was there seconds ago. You don’t even know his name, and you’re already acting jealous? Jesus. You’re in way over your head.

He takes a swig of his amber colored drink and swallows, a gentle smile returning to his handsome face. He sticks out his hand and you take it slowly, feeling the back of his calloused fingers as they burn into your hand, simmering like a hot fire as it runs through your veins. It’s firm, strong, powerful. And you know. You know you’re in trouble.

“The name’s Joel. What’s yours, sweetheart?” His hand lingers maybe a little too long in your hold, but you don’t shake him off. You just let him drop it when he’s ready, feeling the now cold hand as you flex your fingers into a fist in your lap, trying to remember exactly how his hand fit perfectly in yours.

You tell him your name, and it floats like a siren’s song off his lips, a trance like lull that sucks you in. “That’s a pretty name, darlin’. You come around here much? Haven’t seen you before. Think I would’ve remembered a pretty face like yours,” he says with a smirk, his coffee colored eyes focused on you. You have to work hard to find words before you lose all control of your voice.

Pretty? Oh, he’s laying it on thick.

“No, but sounds like you’re a usual here. You come here a lot or something?” you ask, eyes fixed on the way he holds his crystal glass with a strong grasp.

“Somethin’ like that,” he chuckles, a look like he knows something you don’t displaying on the lines of his forehead.

“Of course you do. Not me, this is my first time here,” you say as you shift uncomfortably in your bar stool.

“And? How d’you like it?” he asks with questions lingering in his bright eyes.

“Honestly? It’s okay. It’s a little loud for my taste, but it’s decent,” you say as you take another sip of your fruity concoction.

“Oh, just decent? Tell me more of your thoughts,” he says as he puts an elbow on the bar top and leans his cheek on his knuckles, waiting for you to answer.

You shake your head. “Nah, you don’t want to hear my thoughts. They’re… well, they’re…” You lose yours words to the blaring music that stirs across the crowded dance floor.

“Enlighten me,” he says with a husky voice while he stirs the amber liquid, eyes fixed intently on you.

You gulp at the sharp eyesight, your knees knocking against the smooth bar walls anxiously. “Well, there’s no food here for starters. I’d kill for some chicken strips right now,” you groan, salivating at the thought of food right now.

He laughs in response. “Sweetheart, this is a club. This ain’t a cheap bar with finger foods.”

You snap back at him. “Well, it’d be a hell of a lot better if the club had some.”

His eyebrows raise in defense, holding out a hand to calm you down. “Alright, calm down, tiger. Gonna start seeing claws in a second,” he laughs as you sigh and nod your head. “What else?” he asks.

“What else what?” you question as you swirl your drink around mindlessly.

“What else would you change about the club?” His eyebrows knit together like he’s concentrating on what you have to say.

When was the last time a guy ever listened to you? Whatever, he asked so you’ll tell him exactly what you think.

“The signs are all red. It’d look better if there were also pink ones. Gives some light contrast and a more subtle look,” you shrug, sipping on more of the tasty alcohol in your hands.

“Hmmm, might not be a bad idea. Anything else?” His gaze stays on you as he throws back a gulp of whiskey, sitting the crystal glass back on the edge of the flat bar top.

“Why do you care? I’m just rambling,” you say with a convicted tone.

“I might’ve talked to the owner a couple of times here and there. Might give him some suggestions next time I see him,” he smirks, making you roll your eyes at his perfect dimples.

God, why does he have to be so pretty.

“Okay then,” you say with a smug look. “The alcohol menu could use some more options, other than tons of beers. Make it more friendly for cocktails and mixed drinks. And the VIP booths? Maybe save some for general guests to reserve when they get here. The Dj? He needs to mix up the tunes, these songs get old pretty quick. Throw some throwbacks in there, play some more upbeat rock songs. And for rooms? Maybe open up some private rooms for guests who want to chill in a quieter area where they can think. It’s fucking loud in here,” you say sternly as you cross your leg over your knee and give him a devious smirk, feeling like you just let him have it.

All he does is shake his head and let out a low whistle, a small chuckle rumbling from deep within his chest. “You’re a little firecracker, ain’t ya? Shit. You sure got a lot to pick apart. Don’t ya?”

You just shrug nonchalantly. “It’s just what I’d do differently. Not that my opinion matters.”

“Sure it does, sweetheart. I’ll be sure to give him the rundown when I see him.” He winks at you, and you feel a weird flutter in your stomach that you shouldn’t even be feeling. You chase it down with another drink of alcohol, letting the burn fill the void.

“This isn’t your scene I’m guessin’?” he asks carefully, honey eyes drawing back to yours again patiently.

“No, it’s really not,” you shake your head defeatedly. “My friends dragged me out tonight, said I needed to get out of the house and let loose. I had a really long week and I was looking forward to staying in with a glass of wine, but no. Just had to come out,” you say with a huff, your cheeks growing crimson with the sudden awareness of your bad attitude and complaining.

Christ. Just calm the fuck down. You’re going to scare him off.

“What is your scene then?” he asks, ignoring your whole meltdown about coming out in the first place.

“What?” you ask with wide eyes, surprised he wants to continue the conversation with your depressing ass.

“What’s your scene, angel?”

Angel. Oh.

“Oh, uh. I… I like more quiet environments. Like bookstores. There’s nothing more I like than strolling through a bookstore with an iced coffee in my hand, just smelling the fresh pages of the books,” you smile, thinking of the last time you went to the local bookstore and fawned over the latest edition of The Odyssey. Classics were some of your favorites.

“Books, huh? What’s your favorite?” he asks, general curiosity piqued as he continues staring at you, fixedly.

You eye him suspiciously but continue. “Pride and Prejudice,” you say quietly, eyes averting from his momentarily.

“Ahh, a classic. We are all fools in love,” he quotes almost perfectly, his Southern accent making every word sound like sweet poetry to your ears.

Your eyes grow wider, shock hitting your system. “You know Jane Austen?” you ask incredibly, your hand gripping your cup uncomfortably tight.

“Mhm. Read most of her books,” he says without a hint of surprise in his voice.

He reads classic books. Holy shit.

“Wow. That’s uh-” you lose your concentration, mouth gawking open at him. He reaches out and closes your jaw for you, his calloused fingers burning your skin the more he touches you.

“Don’t act too surprised. Some men like to read the classics too,” he smirks as he drops his hand, ending the contact way too soon. “What else?”

“Huh?” you ask, still shocked at his last words.

“What else do ya like?” His weight shifts just a tad and his knee skims yours as goosebumps form over your skin, the contact almost too much for you.

“Why?” you ask, almost self conscious of yourself. There’s way more interesting girls here than you, more up to his liking probably. You’re boring while all these other girls know how to party. You’re an introvert, you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be talking to him.

“Why what?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows, the lines above his forehead wrinkling at the notion as one of his tousled curls fall into his face. You almost want to push it back for him, almost.

“Why the interest in me? I’m not... I’m…”

“You’re not what?” he almost barks out as his eyes get a shade darker. It’s a little intimidating and makes you sit up straighter, aware of all the sulking you’ve done this evening. You’re just making it worse for yourself. You’re going to scare him off.

“I’m not like all these other girls in here. I’m… I’m shy, reserved. I don’t even come close to some of these women in here. I’m…”

He cuts you off as he cups your chin with his large hand, syrupy eyes clouding your vision as he stares at you intently. It makes your heart speed up frantically as blood rushes through your ears uncontrollably.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. You’re not like the rest of them. You’re interesting. You caught my attention. And you’re stunning,” he says smoothly as his eyes drop down the length of you, taking in the large slit in your tight black dress and trailing back up to your eyes, a breath catching deep in your throat.

He drops his hand from your chin and turns back to his glass of whiskey, pouring another shot down his throat as he slides it back against the sleek bar top, running a hand through his wild curls.

God, you want to run your hands through those curls, want to feel just how soft and silky they really are…

A rough voice pulls you from your distant thoughts as a tall, bulky man dressed in all black slides up beside you in the next bar stool, ogling your body as he fans his eyes over you in a disgusting manner. You want to roll your eyes and ignore him already.

“Aren’t you a sexy thing? Let me buy you a drink. What’ll it be? Tequila, beer on tap?” he asks with a snide smirk on his face.

“I've got her well taken care of. Thanks for the offer, though. But she won’t be needing that drink,” he faintly growls under his breath, placing his large hand on your leg as he curls his calloused fingers around your inner thigh slowly. You about jump from the warm contact and how it instantly eases you in a weird way. You barely know the man, why did this feel… safe?

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize she was with anyone,” he huffs, eyeing Joel’s hand on your bare thigh as it burns through your skin like a scalding stove.

He’s just a man. He’s just a man. Get it together. You’re not doing this tonight.

“Think she’s in good hands,” Joel breathes, his voice deep and gruff as his eyes narrow at the man. He turns with a nod and walks in the opposite direction, going to find his next victim.

Joel keeps his thick fingers pressed to your thigh for a few more seconds then releases his hand, the same time you let go of the breath you were holding. “Uhh, thanks,” you say awkwardly, leaning against the bar top to look him in the eyes again. In those pretty brown doe eyes that light up tingling feelings that you want to keep at bay.

No hookups. None.

“No problem, sweetheart,” he says as he turns to look at you again, eyes lingering on more unanswered questions.

“So, you seein’ anyone?” he asks as he drags his thumb over the rim of his glass cup, slowly collecting condensation on the tip of his thumb. The sight makes you gulp.

“No,” you say quietly, shaking your head slowly.

“You’re tellin’ me that a girl as beautiful as you isn’t seein’ anyone?” he asks in disbelief, a small disbelieving laugh leaving his lips.

“Well, I’m not,” you shrug, eyes flicking back and forth between the thumb that languidly glides around the edge of the glass and his honey eyes that stay focused on you. It’s intimidating, to say the least.

“Why not?” he asks curiously, an eyebrow raising in question as he waits for your answer. You don’t really have a good one for him, not really wanting to go into the traumatic ex boyfriends you had been with before.

“I dunno. Just haven’t found the right one, I guess. Been busy. And besides, I’m not…” You stop mid sentence, staring at Joel’s scowl on his face. What was he so mad about now? What had you said?

“Don’t give me that answer. Sweetheart, the entire bar is staring at you.” You look behind you and gasp. He’s right. All the men gathered around the counter are trailing their eyes to you, eyes ogling you from a distance, hoping to get a chance to talk to you.

You swing your bar stool back around and stop as your knees lock with his, your eyes focusing on him. Only him. “As for me, I’ve had my eyes on you the minute you stepped through those doors. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, sweetheart. A real angel, at best,” coffee eyes honing in on you like a hawk stalking its prey. Suddenly you can’t hear the noisy music, can’t hear the clicking of the glasses behind you. It’s just you and Joel, in your own little bubble as the words crash down on you like a siren’s song.

Gorgeous. Sweetheart. You’re in trouble.

“Oh,” is all you can gasp out. He’s charming, almost too charming. And you hate him for it. Hate him for how he’s making you feel. Like you’re special, like you mean something. It makes you sick, so fucking sick.

You take a slow drink of your alcohol, hoping the taste will cool you off from the heat he just gave you. “Tell me, angel. When’s the last time a man has gotten you off?”

You choke on your drink and spit it out, wiping the cloth napkin over your chin as you catch your breath. “Excuse me?” you ask in disbelief.

“You heard me. It’s a simple question. When’s the last time a man has gotten you off?” His jaw tics and his eyebrow rises, his eyes hounding you as he waits for your answer.

You’re speechless, not believing what you just heard. But the way he’s looking at you now tells you he won’t back off till he knows. So you amuse him. “It’s been a couple of years,” you answer quietly, your voice barely audible above the ringing music.

“A couple years?” Joel asks incredulously. “Christ. No wonder you’ve been uptight lately. Y’need somebody to make you feel good, ain’t that right?” he asks with a rough, gravelly voice as he inches closer to you, your hands digging into the material of your black dress as he comes closer, closer, closer.

“I… I’m fine,” you say nervously, but he keeps leaning in, body hovering over yours as his hand ghosts over your thigh, causing goosebumps to raise in his presence.

“You’re not fine, sweetheart. You’re trembling. Your legs are shaking,” he points out as he trails his fingers lightly over your thigh, his whiskey breath breathing down your neck as he runs his lips across the shell of your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.

“I could make you feel so good, sweetheart. Could make you feel things you’ve never felt before. You want it, don’t ya? I can almost smell how bad you want it,” he teases as he whispers into your ear, making your legs squeeze tighter together as you hold in a whine of need.

Fuck, stop. Not tonight, not with him. He’s too charming, too tempting, too hot for you.

The edge of his patchy salt and pepper scruff slides against your jaw, making you want to run your fingers profusely through it as you drag your nails over him. Imagining his mouth between your legs, his tongue on your clit as he makes meticulous circles over you.

Fuck.

You catch your breath and watch him pull back just the slightest, his honey eyes now darker in shade, more prominent as his pupils expand wider into dark circles. “Let me give it to ya, angel. Let me take care of you,” he says with bared teeth, a devilish grin taking form on his face as his body crowds yours against the bar stool, just hovering as his hands cover the sides of you, fingers barely grazing your hips that send a fire right through your lungs.

You catch your breath and say the most logical response. “I don’t need it. I don’t do this, I don’t…”

“You don’t what, darlin’? Don’t let a man make you feel good? Don’t let a man touch you where you need it most?” he purrs, calloused fingers finding your thigh as he runs his hand up your smooth skin, leaving burn marks with every place he touches. It’s hot, sadistic, evil.

“I… I…” You’re completely flustered from him, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. He’s so fucking charming and handsome and fuck. He’s trying to coax you, and he’s doing a damn good job at it, too.

“I can see how bad you want it,” he purrs. “The way your cheeks are flushed, and your breathing is erratic. The way you’re squeezing your thighs together as if to pretend that ache isn’t stirring in there for me. The way you keep sucking on your bottom lip and staring at me with those needy, pretty eyes,” he coaxes, leaning into you again as he runs his hot tongue over the shell of your ear.

And fuck, does it feel good.

“You want it, baby. Give in. Let me fix that throbbing ache in that pretty pussy of yours. Let me turn this good little angel into a bad little devil,” he growls, making a wave of slick run down your center as you choke on a moan. He only laughs at your needy response, your middle completely full of warmth now from his daring actions and smoldering words.

When he finally pulls back, you ask the one question that keeps ringing in your mind. “What’s in it for you?” you ask with the cock of your eyebrow, chin jutting out as you wait for an obnoxious answer that any other man would give you.

“Only the pleasure of knowing I took care of you,” he smirks, eyes glazing over at you with hunger in his deep voice.

“What? You’re not gonna make me get on my knees and give you a blowjob like any other guy would?” you ask with the taste of metallic in your throat, bitter and stale as you swallow it back down. That’s what any other man would do. No one’s ever asked what you wanted, only what they needed. Sick fucks.

“No,” he answers honestly.

“No?” you ask with bewildered eyes.

“No. I’m not other guys, sweetheart,” he states simply, the hunger still there in his dark eyes as his chest rises and falls in waves. He’s looking at you with so much intent in his eyes that it makes you dizzy.

“So, what do you say? Want me to make you feel good?” he asks as he licks his lower lip seductively. The sight about knocks you out of your chair.

“I-uh. I… need a moment. Where are the bathrooms?” you ask hurriedly as you stand up from the bar stool, pulling your short dress down over your thighs.

“Down that dark hall and first door on your left,” he says as he points in the direction of the bathrooms. You nod and race off, dodging a couple making out as you walk around them, eager to get to the bathroom.

You shove past some people dancing and walk as fast as your high heels can carry you. You make your way through the dim lit hallway and crash into the door, swinging it open as you step into the lavish, huge bathroom. You stop at the porcelain sink and look into the lit up mirror as you stare at your reflection.

You freeze when you see just how flushed you are. Your eyes are as wide as an owl’s and the veins in your neck are pulsing like crazy. Your lace panties are drenched, and you’re so turned on that you feel as if you’re about to explode. You need to cum, you need to stop the ache in between your thighs.

What the fuck is wrong with you? You don’t hook up with guys. This isn’t like you. But Joel… Joel is so devilishly handsome, so charming, a gentleman, a smooth talker. He practically got you off by just hovering over you and whispering dirty words into your ear. He was too much, this was too much. You should just go back home. But you want this. You want him.

You take one more long look at yourself in the mirror and sigh, hands digging into the sink as you give up completely. Fuck it. You want him, so you’ll have him.

When you open the door and leave the lit up bathroom, you about topple over as you hit something that feels like a thick brick wall. You look up and realize it’s Joel you crash into. You gawk at the way he leans up against the wall, clearly waiting for an answer from you.

“So, decide what you’re gonna do, angel?” he asks smoothly, his thick voice dripping like syrup all over you.

Fuck this. This man is a menace.

He takes a step forward and you take one back, a game of tag going on. But it’s not just any tag. No. He’s the hungry wolf, and he came to eat you alive.

“Not exactly…” you whisper, your voice caught in your throat.

He chuckles lightly as he takes another step forward and another, backing you up into the dark hallway that seems to go on for miles. “It’s simple, sweetheart. You can either leave or you can let me indulge you,” he purrs as he comes closer, chasing you like a game of cat and mouse.

“What if I don’t want to?” you ask out of breath, your voice getting choked up as you swallow down want and desire.

He clicks his tongue at you, coming in for the kill. “Now, now, sweetheart. Don’t be coy. I can smell the arousal already drippin’ from you. Can see how bad you want this with the way your eyes widen and lips part for me,” he says seductively, pupils blowing out as he takes a step forward and another one until he’s successfully backed you into the darkest corner of the hallway he can manage.

You knock into the cold black wall and gasp when he cages you in, letting his hands linger against your thighs as you feel the heat of his fingertips press into your hip bones. He leans over and presses his lips to the shell of your ear, whispering incantations into it as you fall into a dreamlike trance.

“Y’know, there’s more than one way to seduce a lady. I can teach you so many things, angel. Can make you cum in more ways than one, can make you feel things you’ve only dreamt about,” he whispers, letting one of his hands run up the side of your thigh, gradually lifting your dress as he teases you with his hot breath hitting your ear.

“Yeah?” you ask audibly, your own voice betraying you as you give in to his coaxing.

“Mmmm. Yeah, that’s right. Ya want it, angel? Want me to show you what I’m talkin’ about?” he asks as he blows gently in your ear, making slick pool in your center as a whine gets caught in your throat.

“Mhm,” you choke out while holding in a moan.

“Say it. Say it,” he purrs out, the soft lilt of his voice hitting the back of your spine as tingles start to pour down your body. “Pretty, pretty please. Need to hear you say it,” he whispers, his hot breath breathing down your neck like a sauna you want to jump head first into.

“Yes, yes. Want you to show me,” you plead, your voice needy with want.

“Gotta say please first,” he teases as he spreads your legs apart and places his leg in between yours, hiking his knee up to brush against your clothed folds. You whine at the action.

“Please, Joel. Pleaseeee,” you beg.

“Good girl,” he praises as he lifts the skirt of your dress, cupping his hand over your sex as you writhe in his grasp. He smirks at you and pushes the lace to the side, freeing your wet pussy as the cold air hits it, making you bite your lip in response.

He slides two calloused fingers through your wet folds, gliding down lower as he sinks them inside your dripping hole. You moan at the feeling.

“Christ. You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, angel,” he groans, hooking them up to that sweet spongy spot that makes you see stars. You choke on a moan as you clench around him.

“Ahh, there it is. There’s that sweet spot,” he purrs as he goes in knuckles deep into your wetness. He gently slides his digits out and drags his covered fingers up, up, up, as they find your clit and run slow, meticulous circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” you moan out as you grab the front of his shirt and moan into his ear, digging your fingers into the cotton material as you hold on for dear life.

“That’s right, angel. Let me hear you, that’s a good girl,” he praises. He takes the two drenched fingers that were just inside you and pop them in his mouth, sucking off all the slick that covers his large digits. Your jaw drops at the sight.

“God, you taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he groans as he shifts his leg in between yours again, bending it just slightly as he cages you in again.

The room is hot, humid, loud, and you’re fully aware that anyone could walk down here and see you fully on display as Joel has his way with you. But you don’t care, don’t say anything about it. You just want him.

Him, him, him.

“Now, sweetheart. Gonna need you to do something for me. Call this lesson one on ways to get you off,” he instructs as he digs his hands into your hips and pulls you forward to where you’re level with his muscled thigh. “Want ya to ride me, angel,” he says, voice gravelly and hot in your ear.

“You want me to… ride you? How?” you ask with your brows knitted together.

“On my thigh, sweetheart. C’mon. Put that pretty pussy on my thigh. Want you to cover my jeans, baby. Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” he coaxes, dragging your hips forward until you’re resting your center on his clothed thigh.

“Oh,” you respond as he slowly grinds your hips into his jeans, showing you exactly what he wants you to do. He lets go and lets you set the pace, taking control as your clit drags against the rough material, catching on the most sensitive areas as you pull him closer and dig your nails into his shirt, stifling out a moan as you move up and down, up and down. Feeling the building pressure low in your stomach as you choke on another moan.

“There ya go, that’s a good girl. Ride me just like that, angel. Doin’ so good,” he praises as you feel just how turned on he’s getting. The bulge is tight around his zipper, and you can see just how big and thick he is underneath the dark denim.

Fuck. You want him, you want him so fucking bad but you’ll have to wait because right now you can’t focus on anything but your building orgasm. It’s so… it’s sooo. Oh.

You rub your aching clit against the curve of his large thigh, grinding into him as you hit that spot again and again as you rut down into him even more, gripping the edge of his shirt so tight that you swear you’re about to rip it off him.

“Joellll, it feels good,” you moan with ragged breaths as he leans down and licks the shell of your ear, whispering dirty thoughts as his hot breath runs down the base of your neck, making you sweat against his large form.

“Yeah? Just like that, angel. Bein’ such a fuckin’ good girl,” he praises with a low, gravelly voice as it consumes you whole, sending more slick down his jeans as you continuously ruin his denim.

You moan again at the praise. This is so hot, he’s so hot. And he’s so good with his words. He could sweet talk you all night long just like this if he wanted to.

“You like that, huh? Like bein’ told how good of a girl you’re bein’,” he smirks, dragging his lips over your jaw as you smell his woodsy, whiskey scent all over you. You want to taste it, drink it up till you’re drunk on him, suffocate on his intoxicating scent as it spirals you into a pit of warmth.

“Yes, yes,” you whine as he presses his thigh deeper into your center, feeling the wave of pleasure take over as you’re right there. So close, but not quite there. Almost, almost.

“C’mon, angel. Be a good girl and cum for me. Wanna see you coat my thigh with your sweet cum,” he growls, lowering his hands to your ass as he squeezes and presses your hips forward, rocking into his leg as you ride the pleasure out, feel that building release about to break.

He drops his plush lips against your neck and sucks just above your collarbone, right against the sensitive spot that drives you crazy as you moan against his lips on your skin. You feel the smirk grow on his lips as a low groan comes from his mouth as he bites down again, feeding your raw adrenaline that chases your pleasure.

The blaring music and chanting crowd disappears from the room, becoming muddled as you focus on what’s in front of you, the strong arms that grip you and clench you down to his thigh, the dark eyes that envelop you as you slide deeper and deeper into a dreamlike state. You can’t hear anything, can’t feel anything other than your ragged moans, Joel’s labored breathing, the feel of his denim against your throbbing bundle of nerves, the calloused fingers that tease the back of your thighs, the hot breath that blows down your neck as he crowds your space. It’s just you and Joel, nothing else matters. Nothing else but this. Whatever this may be.

You jar forward, catching your clit on a wrinkle as it tugs at you, screaming your name to let go. Let go, let go. You can feel the white hot heat take hold of you, feel it slowly sliding down your center as your insides flutter and clench around nothing. You’re about to cum, about to release your heat all over him. And he knows. He knows.

“Don’t be shy, angel. Let me have it. Cum for me,” he growls dominantly, wrapping his hands tight around your waist as he pushes you down deep against the denim covering his thighs, pressing your throbbing clit at just the right spot as you feel yourself let go.

You dig your fingers into the collar of his shirt and press your face against the crook of his neck as you cum hard, feeling the slick spill out of you as you tense up over his thigh, squeezing your fingers around him as you moan his name loudly into his ear, hearing your breath hitch as he hums in approval.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Say my name. Yeah, just like that. There ya go,” he praises as he rocks you gently against his thigh, making sure you get every ounce of cum out of your dripping pussy.

You take a minute to come back down to earth, back to where you don’t hear the ringing in your ears, where you don’t see the bright lights covering your vision anymore. He slowly lets his hands loosen around your waist, gently leaning you back against the wall as he slides you off his thigh, covering your soaked folds with your ruined panties as he sets them back in place against your center. You wince as his fingers brush up over your sensitive clit and let him pull your skirt back down over your thighs.

He takes a step back and brushes his fingers against the damp stain on his jeans, slowly bringing them up to his mouth as he sucks his thick digits into his mouth, lapping up your slick as he stares straight at you with blown out pupils, making you gawk at the sight.

“Taste so fuckin’ sweet, angel. Goddamn.” He curses again under his breath and drops them to his side as he sticks them deep in his pocket looking for something. Whatever he grabs, he covers it in the base of his palm, not letting you quite see what it is.

“Did you enjoy that… lesson?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up as he stares at you with wild eyes, his tousled curls a mess as sweat beads at a few of the curls pressed against his forehead.

Lesson? Does this mean there would be more?

“Mhm,” you hum out, too fucked out to give a straight answer right now as you were still stuck on the fact that this man had just made you cum the hardest you ever had in your life. Not even your vibrator was a match for him. And he hadn't even put his mouth on you yet or put his cock in you. That was saying something.

He was dangerous, tempting, a bad habit you could get used to. He was trouble, a menace. But you didn’t care. You didn’t care. You wanted more, needed more from him. Just him.

It’s like he hears your thoughts, smirking up at you as he lifts your chin and brushes his calloused thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes trailing down to stare at them as if he was thinking of sinking his mouth down on you. You hold your breath, not ready for that yet. It was too soon, too intimate of a thing.

He drops his thumb from your lip and trails it against your jawline, dropping down a level so his eyes sink into yours.

Fuck, he’s hot.

“If you ever need anything and I mean anything, I’m just a phone call away.” He grabs your hand as he sticks a business card in your palm, closing your fingers over it as he brings your hand up to his mouth, brushing his lips against the back of your knuckles as you suck in a deep breath as his soft lips kiss your skin. It feels good. So good.

“Hope to see you soon, angel.” He drops your hand back to your side as he winks and smirks a devilish grin your way, turning back around as he makes his way back towards the rush of the crowd, entering the noise once more as you watch him disappear into a sea of people as his tousled curls get pulled into the bodies, leaving you standing in shock in the dark alone.

You uncurl your fingers and run them along the edge of the glossy white business card. You turn it over and read it once, twice, three times as your eyes widen. You read it once more to make sure your eyes don’t deceive you, but you only see the same thing sprawled across the card each time. It reads Joel Miller: Owner of Club Inferno. His number sits above the words, leaving you breathless as you realize just who you were talking to earlier. Who you were complaining to earlier.

Holy shit. Joel was the club owner?!

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You were in trouble. You were in so much fucking trouble. How would you show your face here again? You wouldn’t. Unless…. unless you decided to come back for more. And you wanted more with him.

You take a deep breath and lean against the cold wall, trying to get ahold of yourself as you rethink everything that had happened tonight. The drinks, the conversations, the flirting, the fucking part where he made you cum while he pressed you against his strong, muscular body.

As you close your eyes for a second and swallow down your orgasmic high from minutes ago, you slowly open them back up and come to terms with yourself. You can’t see yourself not coming back here and not letting him give you another lesson…

You need it, need him. You’d never had a man make you feel so bold, so sexy before in your life. And the way he was all about what felt good to you? Well it was… exhilarating. You wanted more, craved more. So you knew right then, you had to come back. For one more thrill, one more touch, one more orgasm. You’d come back… for him.

Joel Miller was going to be the fucking bane of your existence, you just knew it.

[dekariosclan]

Karlach x Gale romance ending ❤️

Finally reached the end of my Karlach origin run! She doesn’t get a proposal from Gale (since they have to go to Avernus immediately for her heart) BUT she gets the sweetest declarations of love & loyalty from him 😭 Video below:

I love them so much!

And this part in particular:

Ready & willing to go to hell for the ‘raging inferno’ that he loves 😭 🥹 Aaaahh Gaaaalee ❤️

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

teasing/testing/kissing 🥵 the devil request for lovely anon it's a short one, sorry about that! this heat's killing me. i might revisit this at some point. thank you so much once again laura for all of your help, advice and encouragement ❤️

Read on AO3

-

So dangerous it was to tease a devil, like holding your hand out near a hungry lion’s mouth. At some point he’d snatch out, faster than she could pull back, and the game would be over – but until then, Tav couldn’t deny the rush she experienced each time she denied him, each time she slipped away just as his claws were about to sink into her soft mortal flesh. The frustration, the intrigue that alighted his clever eyes and tensed his handsome shadowed jaw, were delicious treats she shamelessly feasted on. Holding any semblance of power over a creature like Raphael was addicting. To know he desired her the way she desired him was enough to make her toes curl in her boots.

The more he pulled, the more she pushed. At first it was light, easy. Heated glances shared, a flirty word here or there from a naturally charismatic charmer who liked to talk; words that she would return, equally blasé, equally sultry. To let him know she was interested. That she wanted to play. It was fun. Thrilling. Ah, but she was fanning the embers of a roaring inferno in her passionate devil, and she simply couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop.

“Have a drink with me,” he began to ask, to challenge. She wouldn’t be baited.

“Maybe some other time,” she’d say, all faux regret and longing, dissolving into the fog of day-to-day before he could ensnare her, wolf and doe.

She began to see more of him. Raphael wedged himself into her life in spaces she didn’t know existed, always smouldering with the want she’d stoked, always challenging. Tempting, same as she. Push me a little further, sweet thing, his dark gaze promised, and find out what I’ll do.

As it turned out, steal her away to the Hells where she couldn’t escape him was what he’d do. A snap of his fingers after one nudge too far – really, all she did was blow a kiss, hardly cause for kidnapping �� and she was in the House of Hope. Nowhere to escape. To be devoured at last.

“You’ve played with fire without consequence for far too long, little mouse,” the devil purred. Crowded her. They were in his personal chambers, she thought. Subtle. “I think it’s time you got burned.”

“I’m fireproof,” Tav declared, arms crossed.

“Are you now? Hmm…I think we should test that claim, shouldn’t we?” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, the rough pads of his fingertips hot. He was savouring the sensation of her blood risen beneath her skin by her flush, his eyes intense, a little twitch of amusement in his expression. He dragged his thumb across her lower lip, pulled it a little.

“Yes, we should,” Tav breathed. She was entranced by him. Enchanted. She couldn’t help it. He smelled like fire, smoke, cherries. She couldn’t stop looking at his pretty mouth, twisted into a smirk. How the tables had turned.

“How should we test it?”

“Kiss me,” Tav murmured. Raphael chuckled, a deep and raspy sound that gave Tav goosebumps. His glinting, arresting brown eyes became half-lidded with satisfaction.

“Given your recent behaviour, I don’t think you deserve it,” he crooned, petting at her cheeks like she were a sweet pup. He relished in her brief outrage, frustration, but it didn’t last. She was too sly.

“Well, then. I suppose you’ll never know if my claim was true, will you?” She hummed. Looking up at him. Their faces so close their breaths mingled. “And don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the game. I thought you devils liked a chase. Unless those things you said about preferring it when clients put up a fight was all talk…”

“Impertinent chit,” he growled without venom.

“Got under your skin though, didn’t I?” Tav said smugly.

“Hardly,” Raphael scoffed. Tav’s smile turned a little mean.

“Then it won’t matter to you if, say…I kiss Haarlep instead, will it?”

“You will do no such thing.” This time Raphael’s snarl was sharp. He gripped her jaw tight, his ring and pinky fingers teasing the column of her throat. She gasped as he nuzzled beneath her ear, spoke directly into it. The scratch of his stubble felt so good. “How comfortable you are with me…such a lack of respect. I wonder, what should I do about it…?”

“Fucking kiss me already,” Tav snapped breathlessly. At last, the devil acquiesced – or at least with what he considered a kiss. Even he couldn’t deny their magnetism forever.

He bit at her. Sank his teeth into her plump bottom lip, sucked it into the humid cavern of his mouth to taste the tiny beads of blood he drew. Tav groaned, grabbed fistfuls of his coat. He still held her jaw, controlled the pace of his “kiss”, but Tav was never one to lay down and take it. She bit him right back, licked at his silky thin lips, lingered in their corners to push her gasps behind his teeth and make him feel them in his throat. In his lungs. Their mouths joined in a proper kiss, and this time Tav greedily swallowed Raphael’s throaty grunt. He kissed the same way he bit: hard, consuming, selfish. Tav couldn’t get enough. One hand abandoned its place on his chest and slid up the back of his neck. She sank her fingers into his lush hair, gripped his locks and tugged. He pressed her against the wall, overwhelmed her with the squash of his body. She could tell how he felt about each indulgent pull of his dark roots by the stiffness nudging against her belly, how his hips jerked with every tug. A pleasant squeeze of arousal settled in her gut. So damn good. Eventually they peeled apart, both breathing heavy.

“So,” Tav panted. The tips of their noses brushed. She yanked his hair again just to make him shudder, so she could watch the expansion of his pupils, the pleasure on his face. “Proof enough for you yet?”

The devil’s grin held a fleeting hint of fangs. “Not even close.”

[vegafan69]

top redacted characters with infinite auras imo 😈

not in order cause i used to have an order but im not sure anymore uhhh hdejdhdjfhdjdydj >.< i’d make edits of them if i could istg

david shaw. cmon. alpha of the shaw pack. big buff man with monster cock that could kill you in mere seconds. the tragic family lore adds in a few extra points. the inversion shit he pulled with asher was chefs kiss

vega. the loremaster supreme. (not my idea). bro is so ancient and old and mysterious. he is my skibidi alpha dont even. bonus points for crashing an entire car with his mind (??!) and leading an entire army of vamps and daemons in the imperium. also i ❤️ wrinkly dick

hush. i hate this dumb stupid incompetent fuck so much. but he split vega in half and killed countless demons off-screen while still being like 😛. ngl that’s bonus aura points from me. sigh. im being objective rn dont even fw me roach

william. look, he’s old and wealthy. he orchestrated an entire massacre. he’s not just a friendly neighborhood french grandpa - he’s cold blooded and he knows what he’s doing. vincent stop being a crybaby.

blake. seer + dreamwalker? probably the only one of his kind. sent an inchoate and a freelancer into his version of dante’s inferno. killed himself for his high school sweetheart? having a sovereign fuck him in the ass to save his lover? hell yeah.

honorable mention: porter. we know he would do so well killing trump. also he’s just hot. minus points for being william’s supposed ‘puppet’ ❌

taglist @mokozroach @annahxredaxted @infinitelovewiithoutfulfilmentt @heartf0ul @breezysuffers @huxleaf @deezbignutz @laskosprettygirl @jaxfart @darlin-collins @everything-redacted00 @stupd000 @ezzie-things whoever i forgot

[sarawoweeee]

Hi I’m sorry if this isn’t specific enough but can we get a little fic abt Jesus hair era Reid in an enemies to lovers kinda fic with the reader?

"Don't be a jerk."

YESS OFC I LOVE LONG HAIR SPENCER!!!!!! Thank you so much for the support on the last chapter I really appreciate it!!! If you have any requests, questions, or advice pls let me know <33

(Also couldn't rlly find a good gif of Jesus Reid oops sorry)

Your first case in the field! The team is getting closer to you, and everyone really likes you except Spencer. Next chapter is going to be the actual case lol

Warnings: none

Wc:893

After my first day, I couldn't sleep. I thought about Spencer and thought of every possibility of why he could hate me. The next morning, I woke up early, a little too early, the birds just waking up, softly singing. I get up from bed groggily, walking to the bathroom. I take a quick shower, washing my hair and body. I then spend extra time on my appearance, doing my hair, makeup, and picking out a nice outfit. I finally leave and have enough time to drop by my favorite coffee shop.

I walk through the door, the little bell gently ringing. It was pretty much empty this morning except for the few old ladies and soccer moms. I order an iced latte and sit down to wait, cracking open my new novel.

The little bell dings, and I look to see who walks through the door.

My breath catches in my throat when I see him. It's Reid. I try and act casually, continuing to read my novel.

"Y/n..?. Reid looks back at me and grabs my coffee, walking over to my table.

"Stalking me I see." He grumbles.

"I was here first," I grab my drink from him as he sits down across from me. "Thanks." I put my book down onto the table, facing me, and take a sip from the coffee.

"What book..?" He asks, not making eye contact. I turn the book around towards him.

"Ah, Inferno by Dante Alighieri. I remember reading that a couple of years ago." He looks down at the cuffs of his shirt and rolls them to above his elbow.

I slightly nod, mildly confused about why he's talking to me, kind of hoping he would've just pretended to ignore me and go about his day. adjust in my seat and fix my hair. I lean on the table, resting my head on my hands.

"Why don't you like me?" I asked, but it came out more like a statement than a question, monotone.

He shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He runs his hands through his long hair (bob is fye ❤️). He opens his mouth to say something.

"Spencer..?" The barista calls out. He takes the opportunity to get out of the situation, grabbing his coffee and walking out the door.

I sigh, starting to hate this little game, and it's barely started. I finish my coffee and make my way back to the BAU.

I walk into the office and notice everyone is gone, then I hear muffled conversation from the conference room. Shit.

I knock on the door and walk in. The team turns their head towards me and I can feel my cheeks flush.

"Sorry.." I say softly. JJ clears her throat.

"Its alright, y/n, we didn't start without you." She smiles and I smile back at her.

"Okay," she continues. "A small suburban town called Willowbrook, two women have been kidnapped and found murdered a week and a half after their capture. Law enforcement can't find any connections in the victims, and we need to be there soon. The time period is almost up, and another body should be found in 2 days." She finishes.

"Leaving in 30." Hotch orders.

I'm a little nervous about my first case. I already have my to go bag, and I'm the first in the jet. That is until Spencer walks in. I'm sitting on the couch, and I'm finishing the novel I was reading at the coffee shop. I don't look up at him, but I feel him sit down next to me on the couch. I put the book down into my lap and let out an annoyed sigh.

"Hm." I look up at him.

"I... uh." He coughs awkwardly. "I don't hate you," He waits for my reaction.

My brows furrow and I nod slowly. "Okay, well why don't you like me?"

"You.. I can tolerate you." He clears his throat.

"Alright then." I pick my book back up and the rest of the team gets into the jet. Spencer groans and gets up sitting further away from me. Emily returns in his place and I look up smiling at her putting down my book. "Hey Emily,"

"Hey y/n, how are you settling in..?" She smiles back.

"Uhm." I shoot Spencer a dirty look and return my gaze to Emily. "Great, I could get used to it." I fiddle with my hands nervously, picking at the skin.

"Is everything okay with..." She pauses "the genius and you? He's not giving you any hassle is he??" She notices the look I gave Spencer.

I bring my voice down to a whisper. " Yeah, a little. I'm not really sure why." I avoid eye contact with her and clear my throat.

She lowers her voice also as to not alarm Spencer. "He's not exactly the friendliest to new recruits," She chuckles. "I would know. Hey, just give him some time he'll get used to you." She gives me a soft smile and places her hand on my shoulder. "The rest of us love you, alright? We already consider you apart of the family."

I smile at her appreciatively. "Thanks, Emily."

She nods her head in acknowledgement. "And don't let him intimidate you he's just a six foot something twig. He's not as scary as he makes himself out to be."

@iniyalovesall

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

HAPPY HBO WAR SUMMER EXCHANGE DAY @hxad-ovxr-hxart !!!!!

TWAS I WHO WAS YOUR SECRET SUMMER GIFTER

I made you a moodboard and little blurb as your gift! I really hope you like it 🥺❤️

I found the quote when I searched Louisa May Alcott, and I was inspired to do a moodboard/blurb that portrayed you and Toye reuniting after the war and finally acting on unspoken feelings 💜 (I used your name in the blurb but I'll be posting a y/n version later!!)

Thank you for being my Giftee Sky!! I love you and hope you have a wonderful day!! 💖

Sky sprinted across the sidewalk into Joe's arms - finally, her world could be whole again. He held her as tight as he could, lifting Sky up to twirl her around.

"I missed you so much," Toye whispered into the crook of her neck. The pair had been inseparable since they first met in high school. It was a classic story of both having feelings for the other, but each were too nervous to act on them, for fear of losing the bond they had forged. Joe was her rock, Sky was his peace. They were home for each other, and they would not dare mess it up.

Then Joe left for Camp Toccoa. This is when Sky realized just how hot her love for him burned. While Joe was away fighting, Sky would be burned every day by her unspoken devotion to her best friend. One thought never left her mind - what if he didn't come back?

All of this washed away with the wind Sky felt fly by her head as Joe twirled her around. "I missed you more," Sky retorted, holding onto to Toye with no intent to let go, ever.

"Yeah? Thought you'd be married off to some 4F by now," he smirked. Joe gently set Sky back on the ground, his arms keeping their place around her. While the soldier meant to have a joking tone, Sky heard the sense of relief in his voice.

"You know I'd never get married without you, Joey," Sky saw a pinkish hue on his cheeks after using his childhood nickname - Sky was the only one who could call him Joey.

"Joey...I need to tell you some-"

"Can I go first?" Joe never interrupted Sky... She knew what he was going to say... He got married to a girl in France or England and is-

"I'm in love with you, doll... I never said anything 'cause I didn't want to ruin what we had, but shit... Leaving for Europe made me realize you're everything to me, and I can't go another day without yo-"

Now it was sky's turn to interrupt Joe. She crashed her lips into his, the fire burning since he left becoming a roaring inferno. Instead of leaving her burned and empty, though, she was filled with warmth, joy, and an endless love for Joe Toye.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hi. I don’t know if I’ve requested here before, but I have a (semi) great idea.

The rundown is somehow Caine found a karaoke machine! This leads to an iha where everyone + reader and Caine sing. (Honestly I just want to see what you’d think they’d sing).

Thank you!❤️❤️

KARAOKE TIME IN THE CIRCUS!

quick warning that you guys are about to be exposed to my music taste because i rarely ever listen to songs that dont fit my tastes so uh uh theres your warning, i know i have a warning somewhere on my acc where i say OOC is a possibility but i think it will really shine through here short post since its just me dropping what song i think each character would sing + links! this actually reminds me, ive had an IHA idea where its basically a musical episode where everyone cant talk, only sing but idk what the actual adventure itself would be and how music would tie in shrugs

CAINE:

as much as i wanna say hello world by louie zong, because AI stuff and bc ive been listening to it for the past hour on loop, i feel like that would be too on the nose and even completely out of character. so instead i suggest jerryterrys version of the boys are back in town

for one i am absolutely obsessed with jerryterrys version of the song above, as well as kiss me (kill me), i highly recommend you guys check out the music videos and put together the lore (CW for body horror in kiss me kill me, though!)

but like, my brain juices are flowing, like. i can see him singing the original, but imagine how unnerving it would be (assuming caine is actually going to be an antagonist) for the words to just. change and come out wrong in front of everyone

also i just want an excuse to gush about jerryterry

i love when people make song covers that sound like the original but theres something so terribly wrong

actually i love songs like that in general

caine gets two, because i can also see him singing charlie's inferno

POMNI:

oddly enough i can see pomni being into vocaloid and/or songs from anime. maybe its because her voice actor has voiced someone in JJBA and that fact is plaguing my mind, but i can now distinctly hear pomni singing some of my favorite songs in these genres... alas i dont have a set song in mind: so i will give you a song that does not fit the above at all, everyones favorite classic; come along with me from AT

JAX:

i give him, the main character by will wood because i can definitely see him singing this to be a little shit as well as genuinely. kind of seeing him enjoy the song

not much to say here since im not totally sure what jax would listen to :(!

RAGATHA:

okay i know i just brought up jerryterry's kiss me kill me, but that reminded me of the original kiss me because it does give me ragatha vibes

KINGER:

stumped on kinger, but first song that comes to mind is able by jack stauber i have nothing to explain this, but i will partially blame me listening to jack stauber a lot to be the reason

ZOOBLE:

cant explain this one either, i think its the tone of the voice but also im getting back into the scary jokes and

yeah

anyways icicles by the scary jokes , i can just see it

GANGLE:

okay so this one is less of a "i can see gangle singing this" and more of a "this makes me think of gangle" but imma put it here anyway since i dont have any other ideas for her !

today today by jack stauber

[pentacentric]

Heaven, Hell and the Human Heart

When I read the SPN Pro-Ship Bang prompt for a story based on Dante's Inferno where Sam descends into Hell to rescue Dean, I knew I had to get it. And I was so, so lucky I did, because working with @saltbind has been freaking fantastic. And so is his story.

Go read it here, now. There was so much to work with that I kind of went a little nuts with the images, so there's a lot more under the cut. Check out my art post on AO3 for more background info and some stuff about the process, too, if you're into that kind of thing.

We're both fans of Zdzisław Beksiński and he was my inspiration for the first of the two main images for the story—Sam and Ruby on their descent through the Circles. I'm no Beksiński, but I did try to capture some of his otherworldliness and discordantly-pretty, diffuse lighting here.

I ended up with a bit of romance-novel-cover vibe here and I'm ok with that. And I will never pass up an opportunity to paint Sam's tits. ❤️

Gustav Dure's gorgeous engravings for Dante's Divine Comedy were one of the first things @saltbind referenced. I love them, too, and ended up turning some of my character concept sketches into illustrations that have a little bit of that woodcut feel to them.

Top row is Dean, Boy King Sam, and Ruby's demon form. Bottom row are Meg and Bela (I'm a little in love with this Meg).

Alastair was one of the first things I drew because I just cannot resist a good creepy monster.

In Hell's archives, there's definitely a manuscript that details Sam's journey. Here they recorded a tormented Dean and a righteously vengeful, into-his-powers Sam.

Added bonus, close-up shot of Cerberus, because he's just so damn cute.

@spnproshipbang

[scifrey]

NINE-TENTHS

Twenty-four is one year too young for a quarter-life crisis, but hey, Colin's always been an overachiever. He's got a degree in Sustainable Tourism, which his family says he's wasting as a barista, an annoying anxiety disorder, and no freaking idea what to do with his life.

The only thing going his way is the cute coffee shop regular, a homo draconis named Dav (who, in his humanshape, is a total hottie.) Still, it'd be easier if Dav didn't have a habit of accidentally setting things on fire when he's startled. Like the café kitchen.

When Dav breaks draconic taboo and volunteers as a replacement bean-roaster to apologize for the inferno meet-ugly, sparks really fly. Everything's finally happening for Colin, until he learns that hooking up with Dav means that under dragon law, Colin is absorbed into Dav's hoard.

Possession may be nine-tenths of the law, but becoming his boyfriend's property does not make this whole identity crisis thing easier. Especially now that Colin must navigate politics, paparazzi, and legal questions about his personhood. Colin's still angling for his Happily Ever After, but the growing scrutiny on his relationship with Dav threatens their budding romance.

And if he's not careful, Colin's fight for agency may just destroy symbiotic human/dragon relationships worldwide.

🐉☕❤️

A sassy, queer, alternate universe romance from Publishers Weekly's Best Books of 2011 author J.M. Frey. Wrapped in discussions of autonomy and colonialism, Nine-Tenths meets in the middle between Red, White & Royal Blue and the Temeraire series.

🐉☕❤️

Part One

There's this thing in stories called the "inciting incident". 

And mine? It's a goddamn doozy.

It’s the part of the book, right at the start, where the lovers have their meet-cute, the farm boy leaves for the wider world, the Chosen One is attacked by her first evil monster, blah, blah, blah. You know what I mean. It's the place where everything opens up and you have no idea what you're in for—only that it'll be exciting.

I know all about Inciting Incidents because I was going to be a writer.

No, I thought I was going to be a writer. Historical romance, that’s my jam. Dukes, rakes, windblown-gowns, dropped handkerchiefs, cliffside confessions—I am a slut for that stuff. Forget real history (totally flunked ‘We’re-Feeding-You-Colonialist-Narratives-Disguised-As-Education’ 101). Give me made-up kingdoms and far-flung pirates. Give me the fantasy of a happily ever after that lasts beyond ‘the end’. Give coffee and stories, and I am a content boy.

But right before he got sick, in the summer between my first and second year of university, my Dad and I had a serious talk about writing. How much work it is. How long it takes to start paying off. Backup plans.

And then… after, I thought, well, he wasn’t wrong. If life was going to be pointlessly, stupidly, cruelly short, then I should spend my time trying to do something good, right? I switched majors. Science makes sense. Science is logical. Science creates vaccines and saves lives. Science can bring species back from the brink of extinction. Science doesn’t break your heart.

All of this is to say that I can—with complete and utter certainty—point to the exact moment when my life became a trash fire. It was my twenty-fourth birthday, and my big sister Gemma gave me the dumbest, but totally plot-inciting gift: a sunrise alarm clock.

The Incident starts like this, in Mum’s pokey poppies-and-roosters kitchen, with Gemma leaning on the back of my chair: 

"I have a perfectly good alarm clock." I hold up my phone, then let it slap back down onto the plastic tablecloth. "Goes ding when there's stuff."

My sister heaves the kind of sigh only eldest-born siblings make, indulgent and frustrated at the same time. I love making her make that noise. It's hilarious.

"It wakes you up gently," Gem says. "So you’re not cranky."

"I’m not cranky in the mornings."

Everyone laughs. I may have snapped at Stuart this morning when he shook my foot through my childhood bed sheets like an aggressive chihuahua. Okay. So I'm cranky in the mornings.

"I don't see how it's supposed to work." Stu grabs the clock. "How can you see the light if your eyes are closed?"

As the younger brother of twin siblings, I am used to having the toys I’m playing with pulled out of my hands. Instead of trying to snatch it back, I fiddle with the iridescent green bow that was on my present, then stick it to my ear. Mum smirks at my accessory, but otherwise her prim little 'all my babies are home to roost' face stays in place.

I'm the only one of us who went away to school, and stayed away. Gem came back to live with Mum straight after she finished her undergrad, so Mum wouldn't be alone in the house. Stuart never left the city, though he's got his own place now. But that's why I stayed away after I graduated last year. Mum and Gem don't need me, and if I came back, Stu would try to get me to join his crew.

I go weak in the knees for the kind of person jacked enough to pick me up and consensually throw me around. Standing on a roof next to a whole crew of pretty roughs trying to help them replace shingles? That's gonna lead to me swooning and dying of a broken neck. Stu doesn’t want that on his conscience.

Because she's a bossy know-it-all, Gem takes my present from Stu and opens it to show me how it works. She huffs. "You can see sunlight through your eyelids. It just works, okay?"

Stu helps himself to another piece of my birthday cake, licking the icing off his fingers and the serving knife. Mum slaps the hand holding the knife, and Stu flushes up and sets it down. He descends on his third piece like a wolf, but at least now he's watching his manners.

"There's an instruction manual," I point out as Gem tosses the booklet on the table.

"The day you read the instructions," Mum says, "is the day I'll know for sure the fairies really swapped you."

It's an old joke, being the Changeling child. I'm the only one of them with dark hair. The rest of my family are blond as heck.

Mum’s grinning into that little curl in the side of her mouth that holds secrets. Dad always called it Mum's 'Peter Pan Kiss’. He'd wrap his arms around her waist and kiss that corner, and Mum would swat at him for ruining her lipstick.

Thinking about Dad reminds me he's dead.

I hate the swoop-and-stab sensation in my chest that comes with remembering. Especially when there's a moment you want to share, and you turn your head to his chair and start composing the sentence in your head: "Hey, Mum's doing that—" and then you stop.

You stop composing. Stop turning. Stop thinking about sharing. Stop breathing.

Because that chair is empty.

Dad's dead.

And you'll never get the chance to point out the Peter Pan kiss again. Or watch Mum swat him. Or listen to him tease us for falling for Mum's Old World fairy stories. Or hear his stupid har-har-har donkey laugh, thick with his French accent.

It's my birthday. 

He's not here. 

I'll have another birthday, next year, and he won't be there for that one either.

I try to control my breathing, but Mum hears it hitching. I'm already staring at Dad's terrible empty chair, so it's not like I can hide what I'm thinking about. Mum curls her fingers over my knuckles.

"I wish he was here too, mo leanbh," she says softly. 

Stu and Gem go quiet.

"Sucks," I cough out, deciding to give no one the pleasure of watching me actually cry. I'll save it for later, when I'm back in my own apartment. Not because of any kind of 'real men don't' toxic masculinity bullshit, but because I hate the fuss. They take the shit my therapist tells them about being my support network too much to heart.

"More tea, Mummers?" I ask instead.

"Time for something stronger, don't you think?"

Next Part | Read on Wattpad

Trailer Music: "A Thousand Years" by The Piano Guys Cover Art: @seancefemme

[livealittleoc-cb]

Small Update!

TW/CW: Slightly suggestive pictures (?)/ suggestive mentions

🐍: Since circus and carnival season is slowing down tickets are half off. I have a shift for tonight, I'm doing the aerial silks along with aerial ring so stop by to see how flexable I am.~ *winks with a smirk* Before work though I stole got this pretty new collar, also repierced lips and tongue. Sometimes I wish I couldn't heal so fast but hey, what's better then having a pierced split tongue.~ *snorts into their hand*

♥️: My back and shoulders fucking h u r t *groans and stretches* so so much-. My muscles feel so stiff, Archery training was so heavy today. *whines, letting out another groan* But, good news for today! Not only did I straighten my hair and it actually looks good for once but I'm getting my pec tattoo retouched with Di 🥰 I was also thinking of addding on to it, maybe getting a completely new one. Who knows, I'll have to think about it a little but I'm excited! I've been wanting to retouch this for a long time.

😈: One thing that people don't know about me is that I have fucking talent.~ I am talented and I will always say that. *proud smug smile* I have a job offering up for a horror movie set that needs an FX makeup artist and oh guess what? I'm one.~ So I'm applying and hoping I get it but, while I was looking through my pictures to put into my portfolio to submit I found one of my favorite works. Now I want to recreate it on someone...or myself-. I would maybe do some motifications but I think it would be fun! *bounces* I'm also open to helping people with their Halloween makeup if they want any.~ I expect to be paid though-

🩵🩵: @monsterhigh-cb [🐟🤍💍 && ⚡💙 && 👻💜 && 🐺💕 && 🎤💖 && 👑💛] @evicted-oc [☕️🤎 && 🐼🖤 && 🔦💛 && 🧊🩵 && 💄🖤] @theinvitation-bot​ [🐭🩶💒] @welcome-to-maniac [🐇🖤 💍 && 🌻❤️ && 🌕❤️‍🔥] @fantasyaespa [🐈 💚💍 && ☀️🩵] @k-venturetime [🍓❣️] @multi-joong [🌧️🧡💍 && 🎨💚] @kardpackcb [🌙💝 && 🐺❤️‍🔥]

possible new residents: @faywithlove @badbf-cb @clubwnderland @domxbot @welcometosector1 @lunaaofthemoon @littleboywooyoungie @reve-rv @multi-esme @the-hellhounds @3rachabot @san-cb @jinju-oc @hoteldelluna-rp @enhanced-cb @camboys-com @lavienrosecabaretxo @yandereskzcb @multeez-cb @oppositesattraxt @domrachaa @hwangsiblings-oc @coffeexdreamcb @silcntxnight @moonlightchn @blogger-yura @crimson-l @thesugaredalchemists @folklore-cb @neonvandalsxcb @doom-bc @hybrid-babies @hearthstone-apothecary @theboys-oc @thetoplinecb @redlight-cb @inferno-cb [DM + / -]

[pomp-quio]

tagged by @cattus-catos 💛 who has excellent opinions and always accurate takes (especially about Crassus) -

last book i read: Dragonfly by Frederic S Durbin. I try to intersperse my mostly classics and french revolution reading with my second great love, fantasy books. Dragonfly is a cute little creepy standalone novel that I read when I was a teenager and ended up reading again recently.

book i recommend: Slaughterhouse 5 by Kurt Vonnegut. I have no explanation exactly for why but this is hands-down my favourite book. So it goes.

book i couldn't put down: Babel by R F Kuang. I was a bit concerned because I generally don't enjoy the plots of BookTok books, BUT the subtitle (The Necessity of Violence) intrigued me. And let me tell you I was blown away by this book. It was a bit clunky at times but I loved every second and coming from a country that is still recovering from its colonial past, with our own national language that is considered uneducated, crass, and rough, it just hit very hard.

book i've read twice: I'm a chronic book repeater because my brain is swiss cheese, but the one book I regularly re-read for fun (and sadness) is Catch-22 by Joseph Heller. It's such a good book, actually I'm probably due for a re-read again! Also Watership Down by Richard Adams, I love that book so much ✨prince with a thousand enemies✨. And of course I have read the Odyssey several times!

a book on my tbr: my current TBR list stands at over 300 books (my Goodreads is Pompey Watching if you're interested). I think the next book I pick up will be The Books of Jacob by Olga Tokarczuk.

a book i've put down: Decolonising the Maltese Mind by Charles Xuereb. Not because it's bad but because I get so pissed off at the British every few paragraphs that I genuinely just need to take a mental break.

a book on my wishlist: oh dear there are so many. I desperately want the clothbound versions of the Odyssey, the Iliad, the Aeneid, Paradise Lost, and Inferno. I also REALLY want a physical copy of Sextus Pompeius by Anton Powell and Kathryn Welch, but its so expensive.

a favourite book from childhood: The Edge Chronicles The Edge Chronicles The Edge Chronicles I will never be okay about them, the plot, the arcs, the art, the characters!!!

a book you would give to a friend: Feral by George Monbiot. I am first and foremost an environmental/animal girlie and while I have some criticisms about this book, it genuinely argues for a lot of what I believe in when speaking about wildlife rehabilitation.

a book of poetry/lyrics you own: I sadly own very few poetry books! I do have a copy of Wilfred Owen's war poetry which makes me far too emotional for my own good.

a non-fiction book you own: so many! I have a lot of animal behaviour books, wild fauna books, french revolution books, and ancient Rome books. I guess one of my favourites would be Choosing Terror by Marisa Linton.

currently reading: House of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewaki, Lucan's Pharsalia (Susan Braund trans), yay Pharsaliabookclub, and Xuan s posts made me start the Epic of Gilgamesh but I'm only at the introduction so far!

planning on reading next: I never quite know what I'm going to read next but it will probably The Books of Jacob by Olga Tokarczuk. I also want to get started on the Thebaid, but I fear reading it at the same time as Pharsalia will do some irreparable damage to my brain!

I'm tagging @kushielsmercy (Shiel this is my Rome sideblog hello and welcome sorry you had to find out like this) and @burritofriedrich ❤️❤️❤️

[lockandkeyhyena]

oh god i’m so sorry about the situation with alvin’s inferno, honestly take all the time you need with it because i’d be extremely shocked as well. i hope things are alright on both their side and your side as well. and just want to say that your art and stories are wonderful and never stop what you’re doing ❤️

this is so kind thank you so much <33 much appreciated anon

[ladythornofrivia]

Cigarette Girl

Pair: Rindou x Reader

Warning: Mature Content, Adult Language and Adultery and Toxic Dialogue. If you’re under 18, I’m sorry, you can’t read this

Author’s Note: Rindou and Reader are going to meet soon. While I'm writing the story, I'm currently watching The Glory again, but this time I used it as a background noise. XD What K-Dramas do you guys watch? (Note: Report if someone decides to steal the synopsis and my story. And notify me. Thank you) ❤️

Chapter 2: The Last Resort

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

In the café, you called your friend and meet up. Your friend, Mizuki, is attentive enough to give your side of the story. How your mother became twice as sick, how you recently got fired from your shitty job, and how your brother often drinks and comes at the house in the dead of night. Everything is the same, but to you, it felt worse and worse as time goes by.

You want your situation to be heard by someone.

Located at the back of café, you held your quivering sobs that was trying to unleash from your system. You've been trying to pull it together. Crying wasn't an option sometimes, as much as you wanted it to be good as you desire to vent, to confide, and to rely on someone.

Mizuki nodded and took note on every single thing you recalled. It went easy, at first, but talking about personal matters, on the other hand, was brutal. You're unsure if Mizuki is going to blackmail you, too, just like everyone else.

Mizuki grabbed the fresh napkins from the table and gave it to you for you to calm your senses. It's easy to weep, but to weep and confide is another. You don't want to unveil, stripped as if naked.

Shame is already written on your face, you just couldn't do it anymore.

"I hate to see you like this," Mizuki said with a sad pout.

"Sorry, it's been hard for me. I don't know what to do with myself. With me getting fired, I couldn't help my mother. Not even myself. I just want to take a shortcut for once."

"Stealing money isn't a good thing," your friend said, sipping her blueberry milkshake.

Stuffing your runny nose, your back slumped against the chair frame. "I know. I'm just getting desperate at the moment."

"With your pretty face, you can never go wrong," Mizuki replied, this time she's smiling with optimism.

You were taken aback. "What are you saying?”

Mizuki leaned forward as she propped her shoulders. "I'm saying that any man will fall onto your feet."

Your head titled with confusion. "I'm still lost."

Mizuki excited posture slumped with a soft grunt. "There's this app where you can get a lot of money from. It's easy--a good shortcut."

"If it's a game app, it's all but a scam," you shot back, gulping the whole milkshake before ordering another refill and another pack of burger and fries. You barely ate, not at work, not at the house--every option you see is what you get--so limited, so unfair for the most part. You've been burnt out, and your chances of redemption in life is obsolete like a cigarette.

A cigarette girl is what you are.

You've been stumped by everyone's feet. Burnt after being used. Everyone is a lighter, still continue on burning every last inch of you, as you found yourself gone and evaporated, becoming as a filter tip. They throw you as if you’re nothing.

"What is it, then?" you asked.

"It's a website where you get to meet someone and they'll pay you with a high salary."

Your eyes squinted. "What kind of job?'

"My friend swore by this. Because she met someone--at work--she gets access to medical and travel expenses."

"What website?"

"It's a website for meeting--It's a Sugar Daddy and Sugar Baby app. Where you meet rich men to pay your trouble away." Mizuki dipped her head in her hands with shame. "This website is called Inferno Paradise. You can download this on your phone."

Seeing her new phone, you went to check yours--an outdated version of flip phone while hers is a smartphone with a large screen.

I'll go check it on the laptop, you thought to yourself.

Dismay, you said, "I can't do that. Your may friend may be grateful, but I have pride to protect. I don't want to ask anyone, not even men to do that. I just want a stable job to pay off debt."

Your eyes lowered onto a refilled drink and meal. "It's not...the same..."

"Right now, you're at the dead end. Aside the problems had been going on in your life, you're still young. Having fun isn't much of a problem. By doing this, you're helping your mom, as well. I don't mean in a sense of blackmail. I meant that you deserve after all the shit you've been through ever since we graduated from high school. When people found out about you, everyone turned away from you. Your opportunity is here and now. And once your mom recovered, you want to show her that you can move on in life with someone good and kind and loving man. She'll be part of your life still; she wants you to be happy and not suffer through this alone. Think about it, okay? Maybe she’ll play with her grandchildren—you and your future special one will have a nice family with three dogs and a cat.”

"What if I agree to this? What if I refuse? You're not going to help me after this offer, right?"

"I'm going to respect your decision still. If you agree to this, great! We'll find you a perfect outfit and give you a little makeover to set a profile picture on the website. I know your phone is old, and I was about to sell my old one, but," Mizuki got out her old phone out, and passed it to you. "You can have this--free of charge. We can stop by the phone store and transfer everything from your old one, and it comes with a new SIM card and everything. If you refuse to take the offer on a Sugar Daddy and Sugar Baby website, that's fine, too, I'll try to contact one of my cousins about availability for the job he's in right now. Maybe one of my cousin's friends, too, just in case."

"What about my mom? I don't want to get worry while I'm gone finding a job."

"I'll contact someone who can offer her to stay somewhere safe. I'll even send some people to pack her things and your things. There's a nearby place where she can stay. At my grandmother's place. My aunt lives there, too, since no one's looking out for my grandmother, but I'm sure they'll make extra room for her."

"Thank you," you replied, smiling in tearful joy.

"Come on," she said, ordering a take out for the food you hadn't ate; you decided to give it to your mom since she lacked strength. "Let's prepare everything. You won't regret this, I know it."

Your friend paid the bill for the food and took you outside the cafe.

"Let's see, you need a good dress that matched your looks, and you need an upgrade on cosmetics and skincare. Since you have long, black hair and a good complexion, I know what colors to match you with; I can already see it in my head. With much improvement, you'll catch someone's eye. You might be surprised on what they have in store for you.”

You chuckled, already excited with the next step, coaxing Mizuki’s advice.

*~~*~~*

Rindou didn't get enough sleep from the night before. Everything he came cross was tedious. He didn't to deal with traitors who are trying escape from the organization, so kidnapping them was the quickest way to transfer them to Sanzu and Mikey, who are more capable of dealing by the likes of nuisance and shenanigangs.

At their hideout, where Sanzu and Mikey made a final call for the traitors, he couldn't bear to hear their screams anymore. But hearing girls's screams is also added a fuel to the flame. But a pleasure cries can only ease him, even when he doesn't want his life to be all about women; his nightclub and his reputation as a DJ can make his life happier, to provide service is enough.

So why keep company?

Bonten made it easy to change girls like how they change wardrobe with designer suits and luxury like a Hollywood movie star. Everything they've worked for, they can feed and overwrite their problems with everything that comes with wealth.

He needed an eight-hour sleep and good food to eat once he wakes up--a good recovery from a night's hell.

But the night's hell didn't end there.

There she was, Aoi Tanaka, with hands on her hips, pissed off.

"Where the fuck have you been?" her overpriced shoes tapped furiously onto the floor of his penthouse.

"Fucking work," he said, sluggish. "Why the fuck are you here?"

"Do you know how long we haven't been spending time together?"

Rindou just wanted to plug his ears. He can't stand her talk--her yells--anymore.

"I'm worried sick about you. You're always running off elsewhere, you're always saying you're busy, but what are you so busy about, huh?"

"Gee, Mom, I don't know." His body collapsed on the couch. "If you want to play as my parent, go for it. Besides, I never like having parents. Not that I have one, but I heard they can be a real pain when making a little mistake.”

"Fucking bastard," she screeched, flounced towards him. "All I wanted was for us to hang out together, as a couple."

Then he laughed. "You mean, "I want to buy more shit from you"? Thanks, I'm out of budget. Let me go to sleep."

A cold glass of wine splashed at him.

At once, he stood up and gawked at Aoi with a clenched hand around the glass.

"Bitch!" he said, clenching the hem of her outfit. "Do you know how much this suit cost?"

"I don't give a shit," she said, smirking. “You’re rich. Quit your bitching and let’s go. Stop making stupid excuses and do what I asked you to. And stop trying to ghost me!”

Now she’s pushing it. He’s going to give her hell, just as he promised after he had a discussion with Ran. Fight fire with fire.

He tsked, averting his eyes away for a second. "Fucking slut, always arrogant like you know everything about yourself just because I showered you with shitty gifts with shitty designs. Just because I gave you a small amount of recognition you're so damn proud of."

"If you're planning on breaking up with me," she began, "don't bother. I have ways to expose you if you don't do as I say."

He scoffed at her statement. "Since when we are a couple? The more you talk, the more you sound like a slithering rat."

Her smile faded. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, cunt," he fired back. "You know nothing about me." He shoved her back and she fell. Unbothered by her cries, he grabbed the pair of designer shoes and bag. As for her bag, he exchanged it with her old, worn out bag--the one she first met him--and tossed all her things inside, except her phone. Expensive gifts he gave her, He took it with him. "Blackmailing me isn't an option. No matter what you say or do, It won't affect me. Besides, I never find you interesting. Your cunt fucking sucks and you do look like a sewer rat. Like the rest of the girls, you guys act like all innocent, then act big time hotshots when I gave you my time, but in the end, you're all nothing but spoiled goods. I suggest you fuck off. Call the cops on me, you will be sorry."

Aoi stood up in frantic motion, breathing heavily.

He scoffed again. "We haven't even started and you're already panting like a bitch. You don't deserve to live in a life of luxury. You don't have what it takes to earn the right of acting like a spoiled brat. You're getting old, you should marry someone who will care for your needs."

"Fuck you, Haitani," she seethed.

His laughter grew louder. "Just because you didn't get your way, doesn't mean you're going to play like a victim. I know tons of girls like you. This is my life, my world, and I do as I wish. You aren't a lady, you're just a little girl playing dress up in a lady's clothes." Swiftly, he snapped his fingers.

"You won't get away this," she said as soon as the bodyguards entered.

“You’re already reciting the old Hollywood line.” He grinned at her threat. "We'll see on what’s going to happen to you.”

He took a phone call, and made a final call on the decision, as for her not knowing what was going on. Not mentioning Sanzu’s name on the phone conversation, Rindou is speaking to Sanzu now, telling him the code to dispose Aoi.

He hung up the phone conversation.

"Try to invade my life again, you're going to wish you've never been born.” He faced his personal bodyguards. “Make sure you grab her old clothes in the room and tell the maids to change her in it. Those designer clothes doesn't look good on her. Her looks are about to expire from all the powerful screaming she gave me.” Then he faced Aoi. “Your wrinkles are starting show, Miss Tanaka. Better have collagen fast. Your line of suitors won’t be there for much long.”

Aoi was dragged away before her fist was close to struck Rindou.

The guards he hired at the club he established, escorted her out. He couldn't stand her rattling screams; he plugged his ears in by tuning with jazz music on a 100 inch television with booming speakers, blocking Aoi’s pleas. Humming, Rindou texted Kokonoi, telling him to remove traces regarding to him and Aoi on the phone he took from her.

Hopefully, he’ll pick a better girl next time. This time, he’ll be safe than sorry.

Once he rested his body over the cushioned bed, after taking off his wet-stained suit and left with his boxers, he dreamt nothing more than a clear, vivid glimpse of his past.

One which he can remember, more than just a clear memory or the subtleties ties to what he became today.

Taglist: @galactict3a @f1yh1gh @colored-tr-panels @glamourkills18 @onyx-blossom@mrssano04