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fictionsaroundtheclock · 7 years ago

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Han Som Hatar Människan - Part 6: “All The Things She Said Running Through My Head” (Final)

! Smut Warning !

The time for Kvarforth to return for the second part of the tour had come. The next morning he had to travel back to Sweden. Now he was lying in the arms of Abigail after some really wild and rough sex, soaked with blood. At least Abigail was one of the few to actually enjoy this fetish of his and he appreciated it.

"What's your plan after I leave?" Niklas asked and there was a little tone of grief in his voice.

"The same as before. I will do my strip dancing whenever I am called and during my free time I will enjoy the rest of the life I have to live." Abigail replied blankly.

"Do you really want it to end this way? Didn't we go through enough?" Niklas raised his voice with disappointment. It was his last chance to act, so he couldn't miss it for the world. There was confusion written on Abigail's innocent face. She was about to say something, but he cut her off. "I don't want you to spend the rest of your days stripping in front of some men you don't even know. If you're going to strip for anybody, that's going to be me. I have an offer for you and I'm not leaving until you accept it. I want you to spend the rest of your days remaining with me."

"Niklas, do you even hear what you're saying? You're scaring me. You did take your pills, right?" The girl slightly pulled away from him frightendly.

"At least now don't treat me like a sick man - now when I am for once being straightforward with you. And please be kind enough not to throw this in my face. But I really want you beside me for as long as it's possible. I won't be able to take it if some day someone calls me to tell me you're dead and I haven't had the chance to tell you last goodbye." Niklas was being torn apart between his ego and his need for her, but in the end what would his ego mean if he didn't have her?

"Nik, I can't just leave my job..." Abigail looked at him regretfully. She couldn't believe he had actually found the courage to show her in one way or another that she was important to him.

"You keep doing so much for me. Let me do something for you while I still can. You won't need a job if you're with me."

"That's the problem. I want to take care of my own self."

"For fuck' sake, Abigail! Can't you swallow this pride of yours just for a while?"

"It's not only about pride, Niklas. It's about being a burden."

"You're so not a burden for me, but if you so much desire to work, I can find you something at Shining to work for. Just say you'll come with me." Niklas almost begged. He found himself being able to let go of his pride, otherwise the cost would be her. Abigail looked at him pitifully, wondering if he is to be trusted. On further consideration, he had never let her down and she had actually enjoyed spending time with him. She didn't want to rot all alone for the short time she had to walk the earth and he seemed like the perfect partner for her. Unstable partner, but still someone who could handle her ways.

"Alright then, I'll come with you. I'll quit work tomorrow morning." The girl agreed with mixed feelings. She still didn't know what to think of this new Niklas that appeared to her and seemed to be a real opposite of himself.

"There's something else. The thought of it was killing me even in my sleep, but I thought about it a lot and decided it couldn't be that bad after all. The thing is, Abigail, why don't we have a child together?" Niklas asked stuttering. That really scared Abigail and she jumped out of bed. Niklas wasn’t any less scared of the thought, but it was a risk he was willing to take for something to remember her by and this something to keep him sane when she is gone.

"Niklas, you really are scaring me. You don't want children, remember?" She squealed with the look of a frightened rabbit on her face.

"Could you listen to me, Abigail?" The man barked through his clenched teeth, but came back to his senses and exhaled deeply, hoping he hadn't scared her too much already. He also rolled out of bed and took the girl in his arms. He laid her down on the bed and hovered over her, only lips away from hers. "I had this talk with Christian and he might be young, but he gave me an idea, which I never thought I would approve. He thinks that we should have a child. This way you wouldn't have lived in vain and I would have something worth living another day for, because it would be like a gift from you." Niklas spoke with a gentle and caring tone as he ran his fingers through her hair soothingly. "Haven't you ever thought about having a child?"

"Well, I guess but..." Abigail stuttered confusedly. It was all getting too much, but Niklas was actually making a point. "What if I die during the pregnancy?" Her eyes teared up at the thought of the possibility.

"At least we would have tried, knowing we did it for each other. Why don't we do it now?" Niklas' voice suddenly turned seductive and his right hand caressed her bare left thigh. "The sooner the better."

"Let's risk it now or never then." Abigail whispered and pulled him in for a kiss. She now felt more attached to him than ever. Actually, she had never been so attached to anyone. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and deepened the kiss. He moaned as he lowered his body on hers. Without waiting for an invitation, he took his member in his hand and slowly pushed it inside her. This time Abigail felt it more intense than she had felt it before. Sure, it was only sex before and no matter how hot and wild it was, it never felt as intense as this time. This time there was something else to it. "Niklas!" Abigail moaned as she felt him stretching her deeply. She took his face in her hands and kissed him passionately. Niklas moved in and out of her slowly.

"Oh, yes!" Kvarforth moaned as the girl scratched his back with her nails, drawing blood. Of course, this put a perverse smirk on his face and it turned him on even more. He slipped his tongue in her mouth again and gave her one of those kisses that made her moan like a school girl. Abigail bravely gripped his ass and smirked as this earned her a moan from him. Niklas felt the burning need to finally cum, so he picked up his pace to his usual insane speed. He buried his face in her neck and concentrated on reaching his orgasm.

"Are you going to cum for me, huh?" Abigail teased as she licked his earlobe. The only response she got was a loud groan. "Come on, Niklas. Cum inside me!" She encouraged him. Niklas gripped the sheets tightly as he froze and his mouth formed the shape of an "o". He made a few last thrusts in and out of her and laid his body down on her lifelessly.

"That's right, baby." Abigail whispered soothingly as she was caressing his back. The crucial moment had passed and now only time could tell if it was meant to be or not.

Niklas was back on tour and even though the road made him hateful and grumpy again, he was happy to have Abigail by his side. They were staying at a hotel and Abigail decided to take a pregnancy test. The test was positive and this brought tears to her eyes. She didn't know if those were tears of happiness or disappointment. She didn't know if she regretted her decision for the simple reason she wasn't sure if she was ready to be a mother, but she didn’t really have the luxury to wait in vain.

"Two red lines." Abigail announced blankly as she stared at the test, thinking Niklas was alone in the room. She lift her eyes up just to see Christian sitting beside him. "Oops."

"Congratulations then." Christian smiled.

"I don't know how I feel about that. I don't know if I'm happy or if I hate either you or myself." Niklas noted, turning to Christian.

"Hate me all you want, but I'm pretty sure you'll be thankful one day." The younger man stated cold-bloodedly.

"Niklas, come on, man. You've got an interview booked, remember?" Peter peeked through the door impatiently. Niklas sighed and threw his head back in frustration.

"Life is beautiful." He said sarcastically and with disgust as he rose to his feet. He ran a hand through Abigail's blood red hair and walked out of the room, leaving her alone with Christian.

"Ready to be a mother?" Christian teased.

"I don't know if I'll live to be a mother. In fact, I could die right here, right now and Niklas' baby would never see the light of day."

"Don't be like that. Those dark thoughts are like his, not like yours."

"I'm scared."

"You? You are never scared. You lived through a whole month with a mentally ill man who throws knives at you."

"A mentally ill man, who was almost nothing like he usually is. As I said some time ago he was really behaving and definitely wasn't that much of an asshole, which made me love the sick fuck even more." Abigail admitted with a confused smile.

"Love him? It must be difficult loving such a complicated person like Niklas Kvarforth himself." Christian replied a little blankly, as the key word the girl used cut him with a knife a little below the heart.

"It is. But you must know what it's like, since you seem to look up to him."

"I do. I still do, even though I've been in the way of fire many times. I guess it's about accepting him the way he is. Then it's easier living with him. I'm glad he seems more stable and much healthier than some time before."

"How do you feel about the idea you gave him, now that it's a fact?" Abigail asked curiously.

"I've got mixed feelings, just like both of you. Not in a bad way, it's just that it was just another shot that I willingly sent into the enemy's field, but I did it for both of you. Whether you liked my advice or not, that's both of yours' business. You’ve taken it anyway, so it’s late for regrets."

"Since I know stuff and I have noticed them and understand what you meant, I'm going to be straightforward with you. I'm not sure if it would have ever worked between us Chris. It's not that you're not my type or something. You're a cute, handsome, talented young man, but I guess my fuck up-ness matches that of Niklas. No matter how often you remind him that he is crazy, you too are in your own way and everybody appreciates that. I appreciate what you told him, despite it working against yourself."

"You don't need to explain, Abigail. I might be young, but I understand. As long as you keep Niklas running, I'm ok with everything."

"That's an honest thing to say." Abigail smiled.

"Don't worry about the motherhood thing. Whether he likes it or not, Niklas will help. And you'll definitely be a MILF." He smirked.

"That's encouraging, thank you." The girl giggled. "Now we drink!" She announced victoriously as she sharply rose to her feet.

"Now..." Christian also rose to his feet, standing at least a head above her. "We drink and you don't, because it's dangerous for the baby." He crossed his arms.

"That really turns the scales down, you know."

"It's a responsibility."

"Well, I'll give you a responsibility, alright."

"Don't get me wrong, I'll miss the drunk you too." The blond man snickered.

"You want something to remind you of the drunk me?" The girl said challengingly.

"How is that even a question?" He shrugged. Abigail grabbed him softly by the jaw and slipped her tongue in his mouth, kissing him deeply. "That's it. Unless you're in luck and Kvarforth is feeling kinky some time again."

Taking care of the unborn one wasn't an easy job, keeping in mind who its father was. Abigail often was about to give up, which brought her to her beloved bottle of whiskey. That would usually happen when Niklas' mood was such, that he regretted wanting a child. If he had been more aggressive with his words, Abigail would run for the bottle, as she was being sensitive for the first time in her life because of the pregnancy. This reaction of hers would make him soften up a little and he would make her drop the bottle. The rest of the guys from Shining made sure he behaved more than ever, as he could threaten two lives at once with his controversial behavior. Those were nine heavy months, but the crucial day was finally close.

Abigail was sent to the hospital for finally being in labor. She had never been so scared before. Niklas was in the studio with the guys when he received a call from the hospital. The moment he found out what the deal is, he got all tensed up and worried. The day had finally come. The guys wanted to be present too, besides they had to watch over him, as if he was a criminal.

"You're a soldier, you can do it!" Niklas encouraged his girl the only way he could as he was holding her hand.

"It hurts so bad!" Abigail screamed in pain at the top of her lungs.

"You have to breathe!" The nurse encouraged her.

"It hurts!" Abigail cried again.

"Now push!" The nurse commanded.

"I can't do this!" She cried as she gripped Niklas' hand tightly.

"Oh yes, you can!" Niklas said tensely through his clenched teeth. After all the difficulties, a healthy little girl was born. The crew showered the baby and gave it to it's mother.

"What do you want to name it, Niklas?" Abigail asked lifelessly as she took the little human she had suffered so much for in her hands.

"I want to name her after you - Abigail." Kvarforth stated. He had a confused smile on his face.

"Abigail it is then." The woman smiled as she looked down on her newborn daughter.

"Are you supposed to breastfeed her now?" Niklas smirked.

"Kvarforth!" Abigail's jaw dropped in surprise and disappointment.

They had to spend one night at the hospital. Niklas had to stay with Abigail, so the rest of the guys decided to stay with him. They were out in the corridor, drinking coffee, while he was sitting on a chair and watching Abigail sleep. He admired her silently. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and in them Niklas saw pain.

"Niklas..." The woman whispered as she looked at him with tortured eyes and she exhaled.

"Abigail?" Niklas said confusedly. When he didn't get an answer he panicked. He quickly rose to his feet and hovered over her. "Oh no, you can't fucking leave me right now!" He shook his head as he noticed she wasn't breathing. He tried a mouth to mouth breathing, but no matter how hard he tried it wouldn't work. "Abigail!" He screamed in his panic and the guys peeked through the door. "Find a doctor right now!" He ordered angrily and a minute later the doctor showed up with a nurse.

"What is going on?" The doctor asked, hovering over the lifeless woman.

"She's not breathing. I tried!" Niklas hissed through his teeth as he stepped back next to the guys. The doctor did what he could, but it was too late.

"I am sorry." The doctor exhaled as he stepped away.

"No, no, no!" Kvarforth shook his head in disbelief as he took the lifeless girl's face in his hands. "Abigail!" He screamed angrily in pain at the top of his lungs. First his mother not so long ago and now the only person in the world that he could say he loved. Both gone.

Needless to say, Niklas turned as dark as he was once. No light in the end of the tunnel, only two little candles - the memory of his dead Abigail and the little Abigail that had only him. At the funeral he got both drunk and high, but after getting a punch in the face from one of the guys, he came to his senses and realized he's got responsibilities as a father.

The only people attending the funeral were the prostitutes that had once sheltered her, the guys from Shining and the few stripper friends she had. Her parents weren't invited, because Niklas knew Abigail would rise from the dead simply to spit in their faces if they showed up. Yeah, he wished. After the funeral, the five of the guys were sitting in their official suits with glasses of whiskey in their hands and no sound could be heard.

"Now what?" Christian ruined the silence.

"The same old song with a new voice. Pain. All over again. But you were right, Chris." Niklas, the sick fuck, leaned back and ruffled the younger man's golden hair. "If it wasn't for sweet, little, helpless Abigail, who has nobody else but me, now I'd be dead-drunk, high as fuck and covered in prostitutes. Or the strippers that came to the funeral. Life goes on as painful as ever. If nothing else, then at least I'll have enough of inspiration to write enough material for two albums." He said blankly as he rested his elbows on his thighs and took a sip of his whiskey.

Sure, life went on, but everything was tasteless. The whiskey, the blood, the pain and suffering of others - none of his weaknesses could satisfy him anymore. Only the little Abigail was making him smile now and then. He promised upon her mother's grave to be a good father and he did his best, but without her guidance it still didn't seem enough, even though the little girl seemed to be feeling fine. He never thought he would suffer over something "as replacable as a woman" as he liked to say and yet there he was - suffering over a woman. An irreplaceable woman.

"No pleasure can be liken to you

And no conquer can be equated to you

No euphoria can be compared to you

And no love can ever replace you

Because without me you're nothing, you're nothing

And without you I'm nothing

But together we are everything" - Shining "Tillsammans Är Vi Allt"

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 months ago

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Interview with the Vampire - A Vampire!Niklas Kvarforth/Reader One Shot Story.

Okay, besties! The first fic for my Vampire Soirée is here. And yeah, couldn't help myself with the title. Had to. Haha! Enjoy!

Words - 4,293

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“I really, really don’t want to do this.”

Your editor views you from across his desk with a mildly terse smirk. “I don’t care. You’re into the more extreme music, so therefore you get to interview him. You’re the natural choice, so go out there and get the job done.”

You know his word is final, nodding and moving from the small room that reeks of cheap coffee and your boss’s pungent body odour, returning to the main floor of the offices for the rock magazine you work for, slumping back down at your desk.

“Why me?” Indeed, why you. Likely, if you weren’t quite as revelling in acrimony, you’d see that your boss gave you the task of interviewing Niklas Kvarforth because he thinks you are nothing short of capable. You’d see the compliment in there, being trusted to secure something with the musician who is famed for either being extremely engaging with his interviewer – that is, if he likes them - or an absolute fucking nightmare if he doesn’t. It’s also very much dependent upon his mood, the amount of alcohol and drugs, or the lack of medication in his system, so you’ve garnered.

You decree right there and then not to meet him backstage, while he’d likely be revelling in the merriment of after show excess.

A few days pass, your flights booked, and an email received from Shining’s management, giving you a list of criteria you must meet in order for Niklas to be willing to meet with you. At least it won’t be after a show, which makes your insides relax a little. But it will be in a bar. Eeep.

Niklas will only meet the interviewer at night.

The interviewer is requested to come alone.

The interviewer is requested not to wear any strong perfume.

The interviewer is requested not to wear any items comprising of silver.

“Is he for real?” You mutter, thinking his demands to border on slightly diva-like. No silver or strong perfume? You wonder why, but then remember who you’re interviewing. He isn’t a run of the mill kind of person by any stretch of the imagination. A return email is sent confirming you will adhere to these requests, receiving the information on the exact time and location a short while later.

‘Tell the bar staff who you are there to see, and you will be shown to a private room.’

It feels ominous, but at 9pm on the date of the interview, feeling fresh from napping after your flight, you enter the bar and indeed tell the young man who greets you who you have a meeting with.

“Come with me, he’s waiting for you.”

You are escorted through the throngs of people, the bar itself not of modern build, everything carved wood, the smell earthy and rich. The noise begins to fade as you are led through two doorways out into a long, narrow room, bench seating flanking each wall, and a very tall man seated at a table in the far corner.

There sits Niklas Kvarforth, expectant, but unmoved by your arrival.

The energy of the room seems to radiate something you cannot quite put your finger on, but it emanates from him. It feels like both luminosity and a darkened abyss all at once, his eyes sharply focused upon you, your heart beginning to thunder rapidly. You’re unsure why, when he hasn’t even made a move, nor uttered a single word.

“Niklas,” you begin, recovering yourself, the bartender leaving. “Pleased to meet you, I’m...”

“I know who you are.” Extending a large hand, he gestures across the table. “Sit.” That voice. It’s a rumble of thunder, the growl of a bear, yet no matter how deep in baritone, he uses little in the way of volume to enunciate.

Taking a seat, you retrieve your phone from your bag and set it to record, placing it down upon the table. His eyes still haven’t left you, a burning blue stare, unblinking, unflinching, twinkling in the very low light of the room. He then reaches for the wine bottle at the side of the table, pouring out a glass and sliding it across the smooth wood.

“A two thousand and eighteen Merlot,” he begins, nodding at the glass. “I’m told it is a good year.”

Picking it up, you take a sip. It very much is. “A good guess, too. I like a nice, smooth red.”

The corner of his mouth twitches a fraction. “It wasn’t a guess. Social media provides a plethora of information to those wishing to seek it.” So, he found your Instagram, then. You should have known he’d probably research you prior to your meet. “But even if I had not, I would know you drank a glass not so long ago. Perhaps not of the same quality as this, but you did imbibe.”

You cock your head curiously. “How could you know that?”

“I can smell it on you.”

Your eyebrows pinch in slight frown. “That’s one hell of a keen sense of smell.” Taking another sip, the velvety liquid slides down your through, Niklas still studying you intently. “Are you not joining me in a glass?”

“It is, and no,” he begins, lacing his fingers together upon the table. “I don’t drink... wine, any longer.”

A curious response from a man who seems very much to enjoy a drop of anything alcoholic. More than a drop, in fact. “What’s your poison now?”

His eyes flit to the side of your neck momentarily, the rest of him remaining so still, it’s a little unnerving. “I have but one vice, driven out of necessity. It cannot be said I do not enjoy that necessity, though.” So, he’s choosing to be cryptic tonight. “Yes, I am being evasive on purpose, but you knew that I would be, didn’t you?”

A slightly sinister grin begins to widen his mouth, while you sit there and wonder how on earth he can seemingly read your thoughts so well. “The human face tells of exactly what ticks through the mind. In case you wondered.”

You know what he’s doing, attempting to unnerve you a little and likely use that to his advantage. Studying his interviews of the past, you’ve witnessed him do it before. He gets inside someone’s head through either unsettling or charming them. You would be lying if you said you did not wish for him to perhaps use a little of the latter, just for fun. Video footage and photographs do not do justice to how attractive the man is in the flesh.

A professional you may be, but who doesn’t enjoy being charmed a little by a fascinating, attractive musician? Still, you opt to at least attempt in playing your cards close to your chest.

“I didn’t,” you speak, and he laughs, a small burst of sound through his nose. He sees the hand you hold. Of course, he does.

“Yes, you did. Do not lie to me. I will see it.” Leaning forward slowly, his eyes fix upon yours again, pupils widening just a touch, your throat feeling tight. “Ask me your first question.”

Swallowing, you match his unblinking stare, drawing yourself up a little taller. “If you were one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, who would you be?”

He studies you intently, almost like he didn’t hear you for a moment. “She seats herself at my table and actually asks me something interesting.” His lips curl into a small smile, his index finger tracing over a knot in the wood upon the table. “A rarity these days, to not be questioned over the same mundane things I have given answers to a hundred times before.”

You made sure not to while compiling your questions, each of which you have memorised well in advance of this night. He looks to ponder it for a few seconds, glancing away from you momentarily before his eyes snap back. “Who do you think I embody the most?”

Your reply is immediate, without hesitation. “All of them.”

“Why?”

“Your music could be constituted as a war cry, famine you’d likely thrive upon from your well-documented enjoyment of human suffering, plague is perhaps akin to how Shining’s music has spread, and death is what fascinates you.”

He cocks his head a little, his smile growing. “I like you.”

Much better than being disliked by the man, you suppose. “Any specific reason?”

“You see me,” he begins, laughing a little darkly, “or at least, as much as I allow you to.” He contemplates his next words, his eyes not leaving yours. God, the intensity of his gaze. It's about as thrilling as it is genuinely terrifying and yet, you aren't at all sure why he scares you. There is something so very inexplicable about him, his aura, the way he sits in such eerie, almost unflinching stillness. He hasn’t even blinked yet. “I get the sense you shall not bore me. I would say to death, but I am there already.”

“Your fascination, yes?”

Another rumble of laughter sounds. “A certain curiosity, you could say.” Again, he leans a fraction close across the table. “Next question. Make it good.”

“If Shining’s music began in any other era, do you think it would have had the same impact, or do you feel it transcends the zeitgeist no matter what?”

Once more, he smiles. “I definitely like you.” Picking up the bottle, he tops up your glass. “Drink your wine, and I will talk.”

Oh, and talk he does, the interview feeling less like something of structure, and more like an in-depth conversation about everything. Life, death, music, art, triumph, suffering; you cover all bases together. He fascinates you even more than you first assumed he would, too, yet there is still something about him that you cannot put your finger on, and it’s bugging you.

“You still have questions you seek an answer for.”

There he is again, seemingly peering right into your mind. “I do, yeah. It feels like something that doesn’t have a definitive question, though. Does that make sense?”

Lifting his chin, he shrugs, ever so slightly. “If you’d been paying attention, you would probably have your answer by now. I have dropped some subtle hints, here and there.”

He playing with you, but you cannot pull yourself out of the fascination, of the thirst to know what it is about him exactly that makes him so different. Yet still, you struggle to form the actual question itself.

“If I’ve missed them, why don’t you just come out and tell me?” you ask, Niklas humming amusedly, reaching out to run a fingertip down your cheek. The room might be warm, yet his skin is stone cold.

“Where would the fun be in that?” Yep. He’s definitely playing with you for his own levity. It annoys you too, that you actually enjoy it. “Would you like for me to show you, the answer to the question you are yet to ask?”

You nod, swallowing hard, wondering what it is you’ll be shown. “How?”

“Meet me at the front of the bar.”

It’s close to closing time anyway, so with your curiosity piqued, you finish your wine and pick up your phone, turning the recording off. Placing it in your bag, you smile, turning to leave the room, moving back through the bar. Struggling to get past the group of people milling around the entrance, you finally push through, swinging the door open and there on the other side, seeing Niklas waiting for you.

How did he...

“Hello, again.”

“How on earth did you get past me?” you frown. Even if he’d left via a back exit to the bar, you would have noticed him walking the length of the building, with its floor to ceiling windows bordering it, in order to reach the front before you.

“I move very quickly.”

You raise an eyebrow. “It’s... it isn’t possible, for you to have reached the front before I did. I would have noticed you. You’d need to move within the blink of an eye!”

He chuckles at your shrill tone. “Indeed, I would.”

You’re caught in his gaze again, shaking your head, your heart starting to hammer. Blinking rapidly, you gasp when suddenly, he’s vanished right before your eyes. A finger taps your shoulder.

“Hello, again.”

Spinning, you almost die of fright to see him behind you, your throat constricting. “Wh-what the fuck did you put in-in my dr-drink?” you stammer, perplexed to know what drug he’s obviously laced the wine with, making you hallucinate to this magnitude.

His eyes narrow, lifting his chin. “Nothing. You can trust what you see.”

“But, but,” you begin, pointing at him. “People cannot move that quickly.”

“Correct. Humans cannot, but I ceased being human a while ago.” He waits, watching as you try and piece it all together.

He requested you meet him at night only.

No silver jewellery.

Sharp sense of smell, hence now why you realise he insisted you not wear strong perfume.

He didn’t drink. Anything.

“I have but one vice, driven out of necessity.”

“I get the sense you shall not bore me. I would say to death, but I am there already.”

And he moves faster than your eye can detect. He cannot be, though! What your brain is suggesting, it isn’t feasible. It isn’t possible! It’s folklore, mere stories, because you cannot, you just can’t be standing right there in front of a vampire.

“I see the pieces have clicked into place. Finally,” he drawls, smirking a little. “Or do I need to give you exactly what you want to see?”

“I... I...” you breathe, your mouth dropping open.

He rolls his eyes, a little twitch of his top lip preceding two long, sharp fangs to pop out from his gums, a sight that makes you squeak as you clasp your hand over your mouth. “There. Convinced now?”

“Oh my... oh... fuck.” You should be terrified, and truly there is a slither of fear slicing right through your insides, but it’s overrode by a wash of curiosity, of wonder. There you are, standing in front of a real-life creature of the night.

You did wonder why Shining ceased playing at festivals in the daytime suddenly a few years before. Now you have your answer.

“I...” you begin, reaching towards his mouth. “Can I touch them? How sharp are they?”

It isn’t the reaction he was expecting, but your sheer wonder does amuse him on some level. “Feel for yourself.”

Your index finger prods against one of those pointed teeth, your skin broken immediately. It didn’t hurt, but it took you by enough surprise to pull your hand away, Niklas grasping your wrist and sucking your finger into his mouth.

“That Merlot tastes very good in your blood,” he speaks, finally releasing your finger from between his lips, eyeing you with radiating intent as you feel your body prickle with goosepimples, your nipples standing hard. All from having your fingertip in his mouth. Wow. “It’s making me hungry.” keeping hold of your hand, he moves his mouth to your wrist, tongue circling, pressing a kiss against where your pulse flutters madly. “May I?”

“You don’t strike me as the type to ask,” you quip, your body beginning to tremble, especially when he places a second kiss to your inner wrist.

“Although I love hunting down humans, scared blood tastes bitter. A willing donor is much more palatable.”

Nodding dumbly, the consent falls from your mouth before you’ve even processed it properly. “Okay, yes you can.”

Keeping hold of your hand, his other arm slides around you. “Not here.” His grip tightens and before you know it, he’s moved you within the blink of an eye to the alleyway that borders two buildings opposite the bar. Once again, he lifts your wrist to his mouth, the glint of his eyes like pale sapphires shining at you through the dark, another kiss placed before the burn of fangs pierces your flesh. It hurts, but god, the glimmers it drives through you, his mouth locked onto the wound strongly, sucking back your blood with a groan of pleasure.

Your insides virtually turn themselves inside out, hearing that.

Biting onto his own lip, he presses a bloodied kiss against the two puncture wounds in your wrist, the miraculous feeling of the wound closing making you feel completely spellbound as his blood heals you, his tongue working languidly over your flesh to lick it clean.

He licks his crimson lips, leaning down to you. “Thank you.”

You blink, and he’s gone, leaving you there breathless, perhaps even a touch deflated. He abandons you to the night, heart hammering, feeling awestruck, and that’s it? He’s just gone into the dark? He truly owes you nothing more, though. No explanation, no goodbye. Your interview was concluded, everything needed for your article to be written, leaving you only to steady yourself and call an Uber to return to your hotel.

It bothers you every single moment of the ride back there, all the questions you could have asked him, like when exactly he was made vampire, why he chose that, whether or not anybody else knows, and so, so much more. It also incenses you because of the burning ache deep within that his feeding on you left, yet to abate.

Do vampires still even have sex? Can they? They’re dead, so is desire still even a driving force within them, beyond that to feed?

All these questions and no big, handsome vampire there to answer them. Damn him.

Back at your hotel, you strip to your underwear, removing your makeup and cleaning your teeth before crawling beneath the covers. The bed linen is soft and crisply laundered, welcoming your body as you lie down and check your messages before turning off the bedside lamp. Sleep, as you soon discover, is a futile wish in light of what you now know, your brain buzzing, your body still humming from it all.

From him.

God, the way you felt as he fed upon you. It makes your nipples tighten just to remember it, your hands beginning to wander, knowing that unless you do something to sate the desire he stirred within you, you shall remain restless for the remainder of the night. With each sweeping caress, you imagine it is his cool hands exploring you, your arousal amping sharply, closing your eyes and seeing him there, imagining what it is to be pinned beneath him.

One hand clamps at your breast, the other wandering between your legs, slick anticipation waiting as you begin to stroke the petals of your sex with a soft moan, knowing the thoughts of him there with you in the bed will act as a suitably torrid fantasy for a time to come. Oh, if only... if only.

Tap, tap, tap.

Mildly annoyed by the disturbance, you frown towards the door, wondering why the hell you’re being disturbed at gone midnight, ignoring it at first. Your fingers continue their rhythmic stroking, your arousal once again blooming, sighing into the dark as you hope whoever is on the other side of the door simply has the wrong room.

Tap, tap, tap. This time louder than before.

Flinging the covers back, you huff, striding towards the door with a frown pinching your brows, looking through the small spy hole. Your heart almost crashes out of your chest, opening the door immediately, the tall form of the vampire who left you burning in your frustration looming over you as he steps inside the room.

“What are you doing here?”

He leans to you, two fingers running along either side of your jaw, tilting your head back. “Answering your call.”

“But I didn’t call you?” you speak, feeling like his presence is sucking the air from your lungs, the energy coming from him radiating with dark, swirling lust.

“No, you didn’t.” He leans to you, lips pressing a kiss against your neck, setting your blood to burn with the need for him, his hands grasping your bra to tear it open. “But your body did.” He lifts you with ease, and you wrap your legs around him, clutching his face in your hands as you lean, offering your mouth to his.

And fuck. The way he kisses you? He might be dead, but you feel like you’ve just been smacked in the chest with a live wire.

His mouth rains cold heat over you, placed upon the bed, Niklas looking down at you for a moment while his hands smooth over your skin. A sudden flurry of rapid movement renders him naked, your underwear torn from you, his hands parting your thighs to settle himself between them. You shiver at the feel of cold skin pressing against your warmth, your hands trailing over the dark blonde hair smattered over his wide, tattooed chest, his hand grasping your jaw to tip your head back, mouth closing in a kiss that evokes nothing but heat.

The sound he makes while delighting your throat with such attention is all beast, a primal, rattling growl, eerie and inhuman. You know you should be unsettled, fear the fact that you have what you now understand to be the greatest apex predator on earth between your legs, but oh, no. Fear is the furthest thing you experience beneath him, desire cording through you as his mouth scatters kisses steeped in blinding sensuality over every inch of your body, descending, tongue running up your thigh as he stares up at you.

His eyes close, long, dark blonde lashes concealing the blue fire within, mouth reaching your aching slit finally, his tongue diving in with hunger. The flush of pleasure is immediate, evoked by long, dragging licks, his groans still gravelled in predatory grit. The tip of his tongue seeks your clit, flicking gently to begin, sucking, taking the contact away to make you keen, returning it with a driving beat that sends embers skittering up your spine.

He consumes you carnivorously, nothing gentle about the way his mouth rains utter ruin upon you, your back arched like the bend in a riverbank as you gasp and cry out. The way he moves his tongue against your bud is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, quickening, until it moves at an unnatural speed; for a human, at least. He isn’t one, though.

“Oh shit, oh!” you wail, clutching his head, your nails digging in. “Fuck, that’s incredible! How the fuck can you move your tongue so fucking quickly?”

He rumbles an amused chuckle, sucking on you again. “You’ve seen how fast I move. That extends to all of me.” More rapid flickers follow, speedy, wet heat driving you to the place of complete nirvana, coming hard as the dew of your orgasm floods his tongue.

You’re suddenly moved, faster than you can comprehend, finding yourself astride him, Niklas steering his cock to your streaming cunt, a hand clutching your neck as he pulls you down onto it, every last inch slipping in with ease. “And if you think the way I ate you was quick, just wait until you see the speed I’m going to bounce you on my cock.”

One hand remains upon your neck, the other splayed on your back as he clasps you to him tightly, moving steadily to begin with, staring at you with burning desire, his fangs shooting out as he groans, all hellfire and sin. “Fuck, you feel good, little human.”

He kisses you, your lips and tongue scratched by the sharp of his teeth, kisses all burning sanguine and dark lust, his growl making your skin prickle with goosepimples. The rolling rhythm of it sends lightning darting up your spine, his mouth moving to your throat, kisses pressed, the accompanying graze of fangs making your nipples furl tight, the pain of him suddenly biting into your neck sending a neon blaze to glimmer through the very blood he drinks upon thirstily.

Oh, how scintillating the pleasure, to be fucked and fed upon by the predator between your legs at the same time, his body beginning to move up beneath you rapidly, both arms clasping around you, the grip strong, his mouth licking the blood trails left behind as you cry out at every deep, quick punch of his thick cock.

He literally throws you around the room thereafter, holding you by your throat to the bed, fucking you so quickly, you feel he’s about to go through you, moving you in a blink until you’re backed against a wall, clutching around him as he drives into you like a piston.

How it is to fuck a creature who doesn’t get tired.

It’s an inferno of celestial bonfire each time he makes you come for him, your body sweaty, blood streaked and exhausted by the time he finally forces his cock into your mouth, a cold jet of cum trickling down your throat.

You’re still floating far from yourself when you see him move rapidly, dressed once more in a blink, Niklas winking before in the next second, he’s vanished.

At least he left you nothing short of satisfied this time.

Upon checking out the following morning, the woman at the front desk hands an envelope to you, once which you wait until you’re in the Uber heading to the airport to read.

It should go without saying that you do not breathe a word over what I am to anyone. If you do, the next time I fuck you, you shan’t survive it.

I’d like you to survive it.

Yes. That part of your night with him definitely won’t be going to print, lest you never experience it again.

A/N - Did you enjoy it? Please be sure to let me know what you thought and give me a reblog. It goes a long way, guys!

#niklas kvarforth #niklas kvarforth fanfiction #shining #shining band #ddd vampire soire #black metal

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 months ago

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Make me Bleed - A Niklas Kvarforth/Reader Smut Short.

Daddy Kvarforth got me feeling a certain way. Because, well, look at him. I needn't say more.

Words - 650

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

He rocks into the cradle of your hips, the sensation of him rooting himself deeply causing tiny storms to fracture beneath your skin, sweat slick and hot as he looks down at you. His eyes are ablaze, something dangerous mingled with white hot lust, a deep baritone gravelling his throat as he kisses you with heat, big hands slid beneath your shoulders, gripping, making you take the full brunt of him.

And taking Niklas within you is like attempting to negotiate ones footing in a hurricane. You can only ever go with him, not battle against.

Your legs wind around him, the tilt of your pelvis sending him deeper, your walls fluttering as he scrapes sparks against them, your fingers delighting his spine in a clawed touch that evokes nothing but tingles.

“Harder,” he rasps, drinking the moment in, his body twitching in spasm. “Make me bleed.”

The sharp of your nails lacerate, and his muscles quiver, his back opened on sensual daggers as you drag red over his skin. The moan it pulls from him sends your blood sparking, clawing him harder, a wildcat branding that sends him into the clutch of your cunt so hard, you can barely take the onslaught. But fuck, it feels good. Too good.

His skin becomes slicked with a pink marble of sweat bleeding into sanguine, a canvas of brutal want etched over his back, his teeth sharp at your jaw, tongue running over the purple welt before branding your neck, grunting almost animalistically as he feels you tightening around him. The slick grasp of you has him mindless, lost to you, the throb of pleasure mingling with the sharp stinging upon his skin, a heady rush that chases itself over his flesh and down to his very marrow, railing you into the bed.

It creeps over you, skitters through each corded muscle, your wails shrill as you cry out his name, the voracity of his fuck driving a blaze of neon to burst through you, the thick of his cock making you shatter to pieces beneath him. One last scraping swipe of your nails down the length of his back has him pounding out each rolling wave of his release, body slowing until he stills, looking down at you with a satisfied smirk.

“I like the way my name sounds when you scream it.”

Tickling his lips with your tongue, he bites it, sucking hard, sharing kisses of filthy indulgence with you before you can reply. “I like the way your skin feels when my nails rip it to pieces.”

He isn’t quite sure what feels better; you clawing him to tatters, or the sight of you licking his blood from your fingers in the aftermath. Either way, he’ll demand you do it to him all over again.

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 month ago

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New story announcement!

So yes, started this one recently, another story for a fandom of likely no more than two people, lmao! I'm open to be surprised, though :D

So, what happens when two people as fucked up as one another meet? Nothing good. If you're looking for a happy ending, you're in the wrong place, but the ride will be fun nonetheless. Introducing my OC Taissa and the object of her desires, Mr. Niklas Kvarforth...

A little teaser...

He chuckled deep in his throat, a low, predatory rumble, eyes glinting. “Little girl, unless you like being burned, don’t play with fire.”

Of course, she had an answer for him, her face nearing his once more, just enough to make him yearn for it, crave the kiss she wouldn’t grant. “Niklas, please. I am the fire.”

Turning, she left him there feeling like his blood was scorching a rapid trajectory through his veins, heartbeat thundering in his ears as she whistled sharply, holding her hand out to hail a passing taxi. She jumped in without looking back once, gone into the night, leaving her target there exactly how she desired him to be. Frustrated.

Burn Bright White is arriving soon! Interested? Hit me up to be added to the taglist. So far it's only @erbodd and @danzer8705

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 month ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Five.

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

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four

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

Words - 2,513

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyebrow raised. “And did you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Put it in H!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you enjoying my toes?”

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

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

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

“Money and power.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She paused, her eyebrow fluttering. “Forced?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sufficiently ruined?”

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

She could barely wait.

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 month ago

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Burn Bright White - A Niklas Kvarforth/OC Story.

It has begun, besties! Please remember, if you like it, reblog it. You've no idea how important that part is to me, and yes, a little comment wouldn't go amiss either. I love to hear that my readers have enjoyed it!

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

Words - 2,464

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

He felt his hand begin to itch, a figurative followed by physical manifestation, holding his phone in a loose grasp while unlocking the screen. Two seconds passed and he locked it again. Unlock. Lock. Unlock. Lock. Old habits die hard.

Learning how to be anything different to who he always had wouldn’t come easily to him, and Niklas knew this intrinsically. The two sides within him at constant war with each other would continue that violent clash unless he fought harder, though.

“I’m trying to be a better person.”

His therapist had told him the more he spoke it aloud, the more the notion might sink in. He still scoffed at it, at himself. He heard exactly how it sounded, and it nauseated him without fail every time. How was somebody with as many demons dancing around his brain supposed to truly better themselves? Did he even really want to?

“Yes. Yes, you do.” He wasn’t about to become something he wasn’t, a faded photocopy of the Niklas Kvarforth he’d been for so many years, whether that be by his own desire, mental illness, or what he’d armoured himself with in order to survive.

He could, however, become someone a little more mentally sound and fundamentally still remain who he was. Not blacking out or having schizophrenic hallucinations was his primary goal, gladly now achieved thanks to the correct treatment.

Indeed, he was certainly feeling clearer for his recent self-imposed stay within a mental facility, a carefully balanced cocktail of drugs alleviating his cerebral distress. It was the ones which couldn’t be sought from across the counter of a pharmacy that he knew he’d struggle most with, though. Hence the itchy hand.

The rush of thousands of neurons racing at a billion miles an hour, pleasure receptors tickled by Bolivia’s finest marching powder was what he craved, now he was free to simply dial a number and have it delivered to his door within the hour. Unlock. Lock. Unlock. Lock... Unlock.

“Ahh, so you’re alive, then?”

He half smiled at Miika’s assertion. “Apparently.” He certainly didn’t feel it. A half existence, no drugs, no fun, no hedonism in the excess he revelled in. But at least his brain didn’t feel like it was trying to drown him in morosity. Or worse. Woo fucking hoo.

“Usual?” An eighth of blow, always. He never deviated. Miika was only surprised his septum hadn’t by now, such was the depth of his habit.

“Yeah.”

“Within the hour.” The call ended, Niklas throwing his phone down at his side, lacing his fingers behind his freshly shaven head as he leaned back on the sofa, frowning at himself. Weakness. He couldn’t even be free of hospital for seventy-two hours without needing to call his dealer. Cocaine would very likely fuck up the tentative balance he’d actually put effort into achieving, but the side of him that courted chaos didn’t much care for that.

Blow was an alluring mistress in that respect, and she always would be. At least weakness would lead to something that felt better than the monotony of an even keel, mentally speaking.

“You must seek a path to finding your pleasure elsewhere, outside of the endless stream of narcotics and excess, Niklas.”

Those trite words spoken by his therapist echoed around his head, his brow creasing slightly. Everything else mostly bored him to death. Naturally, his thoughts went straight to another pastime.

He could simply distract himself with a woman, he certainly knew where to go to have one throw themself at him within minutes, with him having to do nothing more in way of effort other than show up. An easy lay. Oh, how boring they’d become to him, though. Securing a willing woman to bounce on his cock for the evening held no thrill beyond the act itself. They were all so banal. Square one loomed large.

After zoning out for about half an hour, his long form hauled itself from the sofa with a grunt. A nearby Katze paused in her paw grooming to study her person, Niklas receiving her head thudding against his palm as he reached for her. Moving to the kitchen, he put on some music along the way, then poured a very large drink.

Incredibly, he was fine to do so on his current medication, but had been strictly instructed that it didn’t give him a free pass to teeter into excess. So far, he’d actually been quite reserved. One the day before, two the day before that, a pleasant buzz tingling through his blood now that a few months of sobriety had vastly lowered his tolerance.

Mind you, a Niklas-sized measure of alcohol was much, much larger than that of any average person. Unless the tumbler was half full, what the fuck was the point?

A curt, yet sharp knock sounded the front door on his way back to the lounge, Niklas veering off course to go and let Miika in. Upon opening the door, though, it was not the burly strawberry blonde drug dealer he found upon the other side.

It took him a few seconds to form words, so startled he was by the sight before him. Sexy just did not fucking cut it at all. “And you are?”

Of course, he was expecting her brother. Miika had warned his younger sister that Niklas could sometimes be difficult. He’d also asserted that he’d likely come onto her, but then again, most people did. Besides, it was nothing Taissa couldn’t handle, and her brother knew this well. Hence why he’d asked her to cover the drop.

“Waiting to be let in.” He still didn’t move, the tall man merely standing there with his eyes roving her unabashedly. She was used to it, Taissa sighing. It took little for her patience to wear thin. “Miika sent me.”

At that, he swung the door open far enough for her to walk through it, the tall, lithe blonde striding through, Niklas feeling his pulse begin to quicken at the swing of her hips. His dark lord below... that was one hell of an attractive woman.

She looked like a porcelain doll, with her hair gleaming, pale blue eyes, tits that were definitely too big to be hers by nature, and lord, that ass. Those legs. Those legs in those stiletto heeled, knee high boots, too, once of which she unceremoniously lifted to rest on the hallway table, unzipping the boot and pulling out a bag before fastening it back up again with a swift tug.

All he could imagine was how those heels would feel digging into his ass while he piledrived her against a wall. Yes. He could definitely go in for some of that.

“Stay for a drink and a line?” he offered, his eyes once again touring her appreciatively.

“No,” she spoke firmly, holding up the baggie between her index and middle finger, her glossed pout gleaming in the bright light of his hallway. “Money.”

He lowered his head, staring from under furrowed brows. “You’re rude.” His assertion seemed less offended and more amused, though. Offense wasn’t triggered easily within him.

“I’m busy,” she huffed, looking agitated. “Stop fucking me with your eyes and pay up.”

He almost laughed at that. She was acerbic, she had bite. He liked it. “What if I fucked you with my tongue instead?”

Taissa would be lying if she’d stated her insides hadn’t pinched pleasantly at hearing a man that attractive offer such, but her facade didn’t falter. “As I stated, I’m busy. I want my fucking money. Now.”

Oh, she was something else, Niklas smiling despite himself as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the required cash, offering it forth. She sauntered to him slowly, all feline glide, except hers was less housecat and more panther, taking the assortment of notes and handing him the bag.

Giving herself a moment, she let her eyes wander. He was thick without being massively out of shape or overly muscular, very tall, liberally smattered in tattoos, and god, he smelled good.

“For someone who’s busy, you like to linger,” he noted, the air around them seeming to crackle as they became drunk in the pull of one another’s intense, unflinching stare.

“Can’t be helped,” she spoke, her eyes flitting to his mouth, her fingernail trailing down over the side of his neck, setting his skin to quiver. “Your beard is just the right length to really enjoy riding your face.”

Hooking her finger beneath the thick, silver curb chain around his neck, she yanked him close, her mint-scented breath fluttering against his lips, turning her head to place a bite upon his jaw. “Maybe next time, big guy. If you work for it hard enough.”

She breezed out of the apartment just as rapidly as she’d entered it, leaving Niklas standing there with his cock pressing painfully against the front of his jeans. He’d never ran after a woman in his entire life, but fuck, the urge to at least power walk after the enchanting blonde was a tough one to fight.

The only enchantress he was to have a dalliance with that night was the cocaine in his hand, though, of which he truly couldn’t get up his nose fast enough. This then left him with somewhat of a quandary; he was high as hell, and only had Katze for company. No. That wouldn’t do.

Picking up his phone, he called the only other constant in his life, his friend Bjorn, a fellow native of Sweden he’d met a few years ago after he’d done some digital artwork for Shining. He was a good time, unpretentious, and could keep up with Nikas’s heady excess. The perfect partner in crime.

Except, that was, when he actually answered his phone.

“Pick up, you fucking cunt,” he spoke tersely, aggravated. “Pick up!” He wasn’t about to be defeated quite so easily, though. Just because he didn’t answer the first time...

Four more attempts over the space of ten minutes where what finally pissed Bjorn Nilsson off enough to grab his phone from the table.

“What, Kvarforth?” he demanded, sounding somewhat irate.

“Nice to hear your voice too, darling,” Niklas teased, lighting a cigarette. “I have an eighth of blow and the urge to go drinking. You coming?”

He fucking would have been, had his friend quit in persisting to repeatedly call. “Nah, man. I’ve got company. Company who has my dick in her mouth right now.”

Niklas rumbled a chuckle. “Answering while you’re getting blown? Either she can’t be that good, or you just wanna hear my voice so you can come faster.”

Bjorn couldn’t keep his laughter in. “Don’t play with me, daddy.”

“So, are you coming out, or what?” He didn’t immediately reply, making a noise that sounded halfway between a groan and a thoughtful hum. “Out of ten, what is she?”

“Six?”

His eyes widened a fraction. “A six? You’re contemplating over a six?” How fucking rude of him. “C’mon, you can come out with me and score a ten. Lose the chick and meet me here in a half hour.”

He made a point, Bjron supposed. “Alright, see you then.” Needless to say, the girl he was with didn’t hang around for long enough for him to come, insulted at his casual rebuff of her efforts. True to his word, though, just under half an hour later the front door was hammered upon by the pounding of two hands.

“There’d better be a fat line in there with my name on it, you fucking sexy, bald bastard.”

Fuck, he’d missed him, Niklas grabbing his face and kissing his forehead. “Of course. Get the fuck in, brother.”

True to form, Bjorn had snorted one of the two prepared lines before Niklas had even arrived back in the lounge, wiping his nose as he sniffed heavily. Ahhh, quality blow. His friend never scored anything less. “So, rehab worked out well for you, eh?”

As always, Bjorn was a sarcastic fuck. “It wasn’t rehab, and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Rehab, mental hospital. Same difference. No fun,” he chimed, waving his hand dismissively. “You feeling better though? No more blacking out and seeing shit that isn’t there?”

“None of that,” he confirmed, sinking his bourbon and pouring another, a measure for Bjorn too before grabbing the rolled-up note and snorting the remaining line of coke upon the coffee table. “Which is exactly what I wanted, to get that fucking bullshit under control.”

“And the being a better person pledge?”

Niklas side eyed him, lighting a cigarette. “I can be better and still enjoy myself, brother. Despite what my fucking therapist states. ‘Find your pleasure outside of narcotics and excess’, she said. Blah, blah, blah.”

Bjorn raised an eyebrow, Niklas continuing. “I’m fucking great now the psychosis is under control. Plus, I’m only really a massive fucking asshole when I get completely wasted, so I won’t. See? Better person.”

“Remains to be seen,” he grinned, earning a glare he cracked up at. “Oh, fuck off. I love you either way, man.”

“You’re probably the only person who does. Drink up.”

Bjorn looked mildly incredulous. “Hey, can you let me have my high hit me properly first?”

“No. I want tequila and pussy. Stop being a bitch and hurry up, and trust me, if I can’t find anything decent regarding the latter, I’m banging you.”

“Tease,” he snickered, picking up his drink and sinking it in one. “Alright, let’s go. I’m choosing the location, though.”

“Fuck, no,” Niklas snorted, “you’ll have me in some fucking metal club. Nah. Not happening.” If he went anywhere beyond a late close bar, it was usually an underground hip hop club, or the Bandidos clubhouse. It was too much like taking his work home with him, frequenting a place where he’d be instantly recognised. Then again, the women there... the fucking women. Little effort, instant reward.

It would be fair to say his hallway dalliance with the pneumatic, drug dealing blonde earlier had left him feeling somewhat restless there.

“Where?”

“Could you roll your eyes any higher, Kvarforth?”

“Yes. Now, where?”

“Roadhouse?” It was perhaps the biggest metal club in Tampere, the most obnoxiously loud and the least favourite of Niklas’s. Bjorn, however, loved it. Mainly because it was a meat market and the drinks were cheap.

Well, if there was any other reason to go beyond scantily clad women and reasonably priced booze, he was yet to discover it. He would, though, for he had no idea that as he and Bjorn left his apartment, they were followed for the duration of the fifteen-minute Uber ride across the city.

Yes. When Taissa Aho set her sights upon something she wanted, she went to great lengths to ensnare it.

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 month ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Three.

Oh, okay then. Have another update. Big thanks to my beautiful Diana and Lindsey for offering their commentary. I do this for you both!

Previous Chapters - One Two

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

Words - 2,844

“Your boyfriend called. He wants another eighth. I’m all out until we collect, have you got anything?”

Taissa and her brother worked under the same enterprise, her heading things in Helsinki usually, and him in Tampere. She travelled between the cities fairly frequently, having a residence in both. When she wasn’t staying in one, the other was rented out through Airbnb.

Never let it be said she wasn’t enterprising. Both legitimately and criminally.

If anything, Miika more worked for her than the other way around, his sister supplying him as well as a few other family members dotted around Finland. If there was a kingpin within the Aho family, it was definitely her.

“I can feel that frown, you know.”

Of course, and it was well-earned, referring to the man who she’d told him had indeed come onto her as her boyfriend. Her brother couldn’t help himself, though. He enjoyed getting a rise out of her. “I bet he’s wondering where you’ve vanished to, since I’ve been dropping his deals round for the last two weeks.”

Well, she had said work harder, and she supposed he had been at the rate he’d been purchasing cocaine and speed from them. The truth was, Niklas was barely denting them with his usual regularity; he was only being persistent in his purchases because he wanted to see her.

And fuck, how she wanted to see him. Game playing and teasing aside, it had taken all the resolve she could muster, every last drop of it, to have walked away from him outside of the club. She knew a big dick bulge when she felt it, craving ever since to be pinned beneath the weight of the man it was attached to and fucked within an inch of her sanity.

Still, the payoff would be worth the wait. If only she knew, though, how heavily he desired her, from just one evening so briefly in her company.

“I have a couple left, tell him yes,” she spoke, opening her car window wider and lighting a cigarette. “Don’t tell him it’s me dropping off, though.”

Miika snorted softly, shaking his head. “What game are you playing with this man, sis? You do know what you’re getting yourself in for, don’t you? Guy’s a fucking whacko. I mean it.” Pausing, he lit a joint, inhaling deeply. “He’s worse than you.”

Charming. “Fuck you.”

“Thinking you’re hot shit because you’re a sociopath,” he teased, feeling his sister’s ire radiating, even over the telephone. “No, to be serious, he’s a bipolar schizophrenic. He isn’t your average run of the mill coke head.”

No, he absolutely wasn’t. “I can handle him.”

“It’s you fucking handling him that worries me,” her brother scoffed, Taissa rolling her eyes.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” she spoke firmly.

Oh, the mistake he’d made in asking her to do him a favour, sending her straight into the firing line of a man he knew she’d take an interest in. A mentally volatile one at that. “Again, this is what worries me, Tai.”

If there was one person she truly adored in this world, it was her brother. He was her best friend, too, one of three people she would genuinely move mountains for. Miika, his girlfriend Carla and her father were they. Others meant little to her, Taissa not being particularly gregarious beyond using people for what she could get out of them. It would be very fair to say her misanthropic streak ran deep.

It was, after all, the hallmark of sociopathy.

“I’ll be fine. I have some things to do, so tell him within three hours.” Her things to do consisted of getting her hair blow dried straight with a treatment, going shoe shopping and having a massage.

With the shoe shopping, she spoiled herself with the pair of open toed, spiked heeled leopard print platforms she’d been eyeing for a while, and with the massage, she definitely imagined Niklas’s hands running in a firm, oily glide over her limbs instead of the man who actually worked all of her tension out. She left feeling a lot more relaxed, except in one specific place, having fantasised about the big, tattooed brute she was en route to throughout the duration, of course.

Calming herself down proved tricky, since it had been a few weeks since she’d last had a man between her legs, Taissa knowing that if she was a slave to anything, it was her own rampant libido. She also knew that when she was ovulating, her desire went through the fucking roof, as she was right then.

She had two courses of action. Plan A, mercilessly tease him some more, then go home and set about herself with a few of her favourite sex toys to satiate her need, or plan B. Fuck him, fuck him so well that he’d never cease to crave her, and then withdraw until he was virtually on his knees begging her to fuck him again.

Both had their appeal, and no matter which she chose, she’d still remain in control. Also, a fun idea how to further play with him entered her head on the drive over, giggling to herself as she imagined the way he would react to a little game of hide and seek.

Pulling up outside, she went about putting her plan into action, her casual flip flops exchanged for the high heels that would boost her diminutive height considerably. The thrill of it hummed through her as she left the car and entered the apartment block, smiling, hardly able to contain herself. This? This was going to be glorious...

It was a good job that Niklas’s bathroom was right by the front door, because between the blare of music filtering through his apartment and the noise of the shower he was taking, he wouldn’t have heard the loud knocking upon his door.

“Alright, fuck!” he yelled, the door being rapped with speedy knuckles once more as he secured a towel around his waist and headed out to let Miika in. Only it wasn’t the elder of the Aho offspring waiting on the other side.

“Oh, look,” she purred, eyeing him up and down, her insides radiating in bright burn at the sight. “You’re all wet.” Ducking under his arm, she drifted into the apartment, Niklas experiencing the usual at seeing her, his heartbeat accelerating in an instant. She might have looked quite casual in the long, dark grey cotton dress she wore, but how it hugged every curve so very pleasingly.

He could barely keep his mouth from broadening as he closed the door, wiping the grin from his face as he turned to her. “As you can see, I have no cash on me. Wait a second, it’s in my jeans.”

“Before you get it,” she began, reaching to halt him, steering him back to face her, hormones going into overdrive at how very nearly naked he was. She didn’t like overly muscular guys at all. Give her a tall man with thickness and a bit of a tummy any day, and she would eat him alive. “Would you like your cocaine first?”

He raised a questioning eyebrow. “I thought it was cash first with you?”

Placing her keys and phone down on the hallway table, she backed away, resting her hands to her hips, cocking her head. “I know you’re good for it. You want your cocaine? Come find it. It’s... somewhere upon my person.”

Little minx. Lifting his chin, he walked to her, eyes burning blue fire as his finger slid beneath the strap of her dress. “You realise this means a thorough examination?”

She nodded.

“That I will have to slowly take off all of your clothes to find it?”

Her tongue flicked between her lips, and it set his insides ablaze. “I’m counting on it.”

He couldn’t tell whether this was her about to give him the green light to fuck her, or more of the game she’d been playing since they’d first met, but fuck, if that wasn’t the goddamned thrill of it. Taking the other strap of her dress, he carefully lowered them, the uncovering of her body undertaken slowly, as if unwrapping a gift in order to savour the joy of revelation a little longer.

He could feel his cock begin to harden as he lowered the dress further, her tits pushed together by a black bra he could have ripped from her with his teeth, had he not been enjoying the slow seduction quite as much as he was. A simple tug over her hips had the dress pooling at her ankles, Taissa stepping from it, biting the corner of her lip.

How he held himself back from flattening her against the nearest wall, he didn’t know. Fuck, she was perfect.

Seeing her, such alluring, feminine beauty, he wondered for a second what the fuck a woman so stunning saw in someone like him. He’d professed quite openly that he didn’t know what it was that women saw in him, despite his blunt confidence around them exuding very much to the contrary. The desire that danced through her eyes like a storm upon the sea knocked such thoughts from his head, though, the palpable weight of her want boring into him through such a beautiful gaze.

His hand slid to her back, his heart crashing against his ribcage like a war drum, easily flicking the fastening of her bra undone between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it away to reveal a set of tits he wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into. There was no cocaine to be found within, even though he’d almost forgotten that was what he was searching for to begin with.

Standing there, welded to the spot by the weight of his gaze, she had to hold back from wrapping herself around him, feeling her insides beginning to throb and tingle almost aggressively with arousal. Her muscles corded, her breath catching in her throat at the sensation of his fingers slowly trailing down her body, over her sternum and abdomen, slipping into the small, black thong she wore.

Grasping the bag of contraband between his fingers, he pulled it out, placing it on the table beside her phone. That’s where she should have simply stepped back, pulled her dress on and demanded her money, but fuck. She couldn’t.

The bind he had her in was not one she could extract herself from, being that close to him, both barely dressed, his hand slowly delving back into her underwear. He leaned to her, tongue dragging a slow lick up the side of her neck, pressing a kiss much softer than she’d expected, his fingers roaming into the soft dew of her slit.

Feeling how wet she was, his arm muscles tensed in appreciation, a shuddered breath fluttering against her neck, another kiss placed, followed by another. He paused only to grasp her thong, snapping the thin material with a tug, sending shockwaves through her.

When his fingertips began to glide in a slow, soft stroke over her clit, her legs almost gave way, his other hand moving to splay at the small of her back, clasping her so she didn’t fall.

“Mmhm,” he hummed, tongue flicking teasingly just below her ear. “I know exactly what to do with a woman’s body.”

The need to exert dominance, return to driving the situation rather than playing passenger to her roaring yearning, she realised, wasn’t anywhere near as strong as her need for him. She’d have perhaps experienced some sort of dismay at that too, had she not been so blindingly turned on.

Clutching his chest in a vain hope to steady herself brought no such bracing, only pulling her further into the fire. It was caustic, the heat of his damp skin, the way the soft, dark blonde hairs felt beneath her palms as it heaved with laboured breaths. Sometimes, she supposed, the alchemy between two bodies longing for the other was just too hazardous a mix to extract from, turning her head, their mouths finally meeting in a hungry clash.

It was a carnivorous display of feral longing, Niklas grasping her waist and lifting her easily, her dainty form wrapping around him as he backed her against the wall, her hand reaching for the only thing that still divided them. The towel fell, her fingers curling around his cock, guiding it to where she streamed for him, slick and hot cut through by the kind of thickness that knocked the breath from her lungs as he filled her. Fuck... oh, fuck, he felt so good.

There was no finesse to it, her insides assaulted by a mindless sexual battering, but god, if that wasn’t exactly what she needed; to simply be fucked...and fucked hard. Wailing against the onslaught of his mouth as they shared dirty, messy kisses, she was bowled over completely by the power of his fuck, given no choice but to submit to it.

The sound of her helpless cries spurred him further, pounding her against the smooth, white painted wall, pulling his mouth from hers and grinning almost sinisterly. “Yeah, that’s what you get, making me wait for two weeks to be inside you.”

Pulling her away, his hand met her ass in a series of hard, unyielding spanks, the noise echoing off the wall he then forcefully drove her back against, burying his mouth at the side of her neck, his hands clutched hard beneath her slender thighs. The feel of her heels digging into his ass as he railed her only spurred him further, made him mindless, the electric connection between them sparking bright.

The lewd sound of him driving into her again and again filled the air, his moans deep, barbarous, Taissa’s grip around his shoulders slackening, her nails digging into the thick of his wide back and shredding his tattooed flesh. God, the man could fuck.

It was beyond feral, an all-out display of carnage, her body banging against the wall as she gripped on around him tightly, more scratches added to his skin, the pain of it causing dark heat to mist through him. It drove him headlong into the abyss, tongue touring her throat, biting her, groaning like a beast.

Mmm, yes. That was the very word she’d choose to describe him, could she even form coherent thought.

The hot girth of his cock stretched her tender walls, the glide through the soaking mess of her sending heat roaring up her spine, the grind of his body against hers flushing glimmers to burst through her. It was nothing but frantically delivered sexual energy, fucked wildly, embers glowing as their bodies charged to the peak of it.

Taissa topped first, her hips bucking wildly against him as the pleasure shimmered right to her marrow, her fluttering cunt pulling his own release from him so hard, he felt like he was about to pass out as he came deep within the viscid clench of her. Biting her neck, he growled it out as he fucked every wave into her, his orgasm burning bright white, light headed bliss ensnaring him.

His entire body tingled, hers shaking uncontrollably, Niklas falling back and hitting the hallway floor with a thud, his legs unable to keep him upright after coming so hard, he barely remembered his own name. It had been a while, since he’d had sex that earth shattering, feeling like he was floating adrift of himself.

He was so mentally shattered from it that he barely even noticed her heave herself up on shaky legs, pull her clothes back on at speed and exit his apartment without word, Taissa colliding with the hallway walls as she tried to walk in a straight line. She was more like a foal on brand new, juddering legs, reaching the elevator and hitting the button, her chest still heaving in aftermath of what could only be described as cataclysmic sex.

Staggering in as soon as the doors opened with a smooth whoosh, she gripped the rail, but it did little to prevent her from collapsing, her entire body shaking like a live current had been passed through every muscle, every nerve.

“Fucking hell.” she panted. She’d gauged that he’d give her nothing short of brutality, the kind of sexual bludgeoning that would leave her feeling nothing short of satisfied, but truly, what they’d shared had gone way beyond that. No man had ever literally fucked her so thoroughly that she could barely walk. If that was what he could do to her in the space of five minutes...

While she hauled herself up off the elevator floor, Nikas remained on his back in the hallway, beyond dazed, still shuddering pleasantly. He’d get up eventually. Maybe when he didn’t feel like he’d just been hit by a tornado.

Laughing to himself, he realised it then. He still didn’t even know the tornado’s name, but fuck, how he knew he’d happily let her whirl around him again, any time she wanted to.

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 14 days ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Ten.

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

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

Words - 2,702

“How are you feeling now?”

He’d been sleeping for a few hours again after having sex with her, Niklas coming into the lounge, shower fresh and feeling a little less beleaguered by a brain perpetually trying to drive him further into madness. “Better.”

It was a bitter realisation, to understand how much everything he enjoyed counted negatively towards his mental wellbeing, or lack thereof. In truth, he’d known it for years, though, and had wilfully ignored the warning signs in the pursuit of excess instead. It had been, of course, the primary driving force of being able to create from the darkness it allowed to flow freely, untamed, uncontained, and extremely self-destructive.

“You look thoughtful.”

Then there was her, and something had shifted between them. He knew so far, it had purely been toxic, seeing her as something he could manipulate and break down, again for the same purpose as any other woman who’d come before her.

Did he truly want her to be, though? Other women, they’d usually expect him to change himself somehow by that point. Make himself less, be tameable, be who they thought he should be, nauseate him somehow. The ‘I can fix him’ mentality had been firmly applied to him by the women he’d been with countless times.

She never had.

“I’m okay, I think still tired from the Valium.” It wasn’t entirely untrue either.

She reached for him, stroking the side of his head. “Go back to bed, then. I can leave you to it, if you’d rather be sleeping?”

He couldn’t help himself, taking her hand and turning his head to kiss it. “I wouldn’t.”

Her heart fluttered with the triumph of it, seeing him falling further. Except heart flutters were not indicative of successful manipulation, and she knew it.

“Okay, I shall stay. I have work later, though,” she spoke, resting her head in his lap while swinging her feet up onto the sofa.

“As expected,” he sniffed, fingers weaving into her hair idly. “I am only surprised you are staying now. You don’t usually, unless it involves being bounced on my cock, and we already did that. Even then, it is always with a certain amount of hostility.”

She shrugged, snorting a laugh while reaching to graze his beard with her fingernails a little. “I can be hostile now, if it makes you feel more comfortable?”

Leaning to her, he kissed her forehead. “This is just fine.”

He was softening to her, the plan working flawlessly. If only the feeling of discomfort somewhere deep in her chest didn’t poke at her with quite the severity that it had begun to. Was this it, the man who would make her change her ways, force her to see that she could be happy in any other way than fucking somebody over?

While she lay there outwardly enjoying idle affection quite comfortably, comfort did not settle easily on the inside at all. Truly, could she let herself fall for him, only to likely be cast aside once he’d had enough? Once she’d find their time together penned for the purposes of lyrical fodder? Were either of them truly capable of anything more than the toxicity that bound them?

After all, she knew he was playing her just as much as she was him, but he was toppling faster. Or at least, that was the notion she desperately clung onto.

She also couldn’t discount the rare breed she had found, a man with many similarities to her, who accepted her exactly as she was. He also happened to be the only person she’d found in years to be her complete sexual match. Was that enough, though?

Would she become bored, having nobody to fuck with? It almost felt like she was attempting to fit herself into the kind of cage she didn’t belong in, like stealing a tiger from its natural habitat and expecting for it to be content within the confines of a zoo.

It felt alien.

“You have a big crease, just here,” Niklas spoke, rousing her from her thoughts as he stroked the faint line between her eyebrows, Taissa turning away from the film they were watching to look up at him. “I thought you liked A Clockwork Orange?”

She did. She lived and breathed Kubrick. It wasn’t anything to do with that, though. “I’m fine. Just tired, I think.”

“Sorry, that’s my fault, having a 3am meltdown on you,” he admitted, patting her waist where his hand had idly been stroking. “Go to sleep if you need to. I don’t mind.”

“If I do then I won’t want to move again later.” Afternoon naps had the tendency to turn her into a zombie, fit for nothing else for the rest of the day other than lounging.

He frowned, gesturing with an open hand. “You’re the boss. Get somebody else to cover your drops.”

It was snowing heavily outside. It was warm in there. She could dive on him again at any given moment and have some incredible sex. Why not get somebody else to cover it? Hell, Miika had been enjoying a more sedate pace since her arrival. It was time he picked up the slack.

Sitting up, she located her phone, made the call with an excuse of not feeling well, Miika agreeing to cover the night before she flopped back down. Alas, it wasn’t quite in the exact same spot.

“Fuck, Tai! My fucking balls!” Niklas winced, folding, biting her cheek for her lack of spatial awareness as she descended into a fit of laughter. That laughter was swiftly regretted by him jabbing her in the sides with his fingers, Taissa hating to be touched there unless with a lighter caress. The result was him laughing at her anguish through his own pain, and her scream laughing as she attempted to fight him off.

“I’m sorry, stop it, stop!” she gasped, still laughing. “I’ll kiss them better for you.”

He nodded, straightening up again. “Yeah, you fucking will. Damned women and their concrete heads.” He then looked back at the television, his eyes flitting to her a couple of times, holding a closed fist to her cheek. “You’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d break you.”

Of course, she had a standard Taissa reply. “Stop it, I’m getting turned on. Besides, I like it when you break me.”

More laughter followed this. “Yes, but that is here, isn’t it?” he began, his hand cupping between her legs and squeezing tightly.

“And I have plans for that, so stop cutting off the circulation to all my good nerve endings, you motherfucker!” she cried, hooking a foot beneath his arm and pushing it away.

He leaned to her, nose touching hers. “And maybe I had plans for my balls, but now they’re bruised, thanks to your head.”

“Whiner.”

He gently bit her nose, kissing it thereafter. “Little beast.”

Eventually they settled, resuming watching the film, Taissa choosing Alien from his vast collection to follow.

“Is it wrong that I find there’s something quite sexy about the xenomorph?” she asked, turning her head to look up at him.

He shrugged casually. “I’d let her fuck me.”

“It’d be a hot last ride, wouldn’t it? Because we might be harder than the average motherfucker, but there’d be no surviving her.” She then snorted, covering her face with her hands momentarily. “We aren’t normal. We’re so fucked up.”

“Normal is boring, though.”

He was correct. “You’re right, it is.” She looked at the screen again for a few seconds, turning her attention back to him. “Want me to cosplay her one time and come fuck you?”

His chuckle was utterly filthy. “Oh, you’d fucking better.”

After watching the film, they then viewed a documentary on Ted Bundy, discussing the nature of evil once it was finished. Was it inherent, driven and created by external factors, or perhaps both? The more Niklas listened to Taissa explain her own feelings on it, the more remarkable he found her. He’d only ever encountered around three or four women throughout his life who’d had anything of interest about them, intelligence wise. She was definitely the fifth.

“You cannot state that, though.”

He frowned, topping up the wine they were drinking. Hell, it was five o’clock somewhere, and such rules had of course never had any bearing upon him. “I can state it, with complete certainty. Charles Manson was primarily a product of his upbringing. Absolutely.”

“Yet millions of other children are abused the world over and do not become cult leaders with the kind of power to influence such,” she countered, Niklas having to concede.

“I suppose so. However,...” He then went off on one of his famed tangents, applying it to his own life, which truly only served to enforce her point a little further. Not that she pulled him up on it, though. Instead, she listened, enjoying hearing him talk, the way he trusted her with his thoughts and shared tales from a life gone by. He was fascinating.

“My grandfather has been the only person I watched die,” she spoke a time later, after their topic of conversation had moved on a little, yet still found itself steeped in the somewhat macabre. “I felt peaceful, watching him go. Not because of any love I had for him. He was creepy, he used to act very inappropriately with me. My mother, she would never listen to me, told me I was making up stories, but Miika knew. He never let me be alone with him when we visited.

“In the end, I told my dad and he said to my mother that she could either not take us to see him, or he’d break his neck. He hadn’t actually molested me or anything, but he would have, had the chance presented itself. Dad saw it as pre-emptive, the neck breaking. But I never had to see him again until he was dying.”

Niklas sniffed, lighting a cigarette. “I like your father. I would have handled it the same.”

“Would you like children one day?” she then asked him, Niklas frowning a little, his face shadowing for a second.

“I have a daughter, but she is no longer in my life. You?”

“I haven’t given it too much thought other than perhaps it being something for the future. I would say no, though. If I haven’t yet then I probably never will.” He accepted that easily, moving the conversation along. Well, he was going to, before the loud rumbling noise.

“Was that your stomach, or thunder?”

She couldn’t bite back the smile at the look on his face. “I think I need to be fed. Do you have anything in?”

He snorted. “Of course, I don’t. You know what my diet consists of by now.” Mostly takeout food, save a few things in the fridge, bread, eggs, butter, the basics. “We can go out, if you like?”

Gesturing to her casual attire, she shook her head. “Not really dressed for it, looking like a pretty little hobo right now.” He laughed at that, Taissa continuing. “Order in?”

A small back and forth followed, both arguing against one another’s choices, some exasperation (mostly from Niklas) being huffed out before Taissa stood.

“Okay, then we go to the small supermarket down the street, and I will buy things and cook.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You want to use my kitchen for its intended purpose?”

“Yes.”

“And you can actually cook?”

“I can.”

It’d be like watching a wolf walk on its hind legs. He had to let her, simply for that.

“I have to go to my car first, though. I have a proper winter jacket in the back. Minus four degrees calls for more than a cardigan and a top that doesn’t cover my stomach.” she spoke. One trip to her car later, bundled into the big duvet coat and they were walking down the street, the frozen snow underfoot proving to be a little perilous for one of them.

“Shit!” she squeaked, her foot sliding, Niklas quick to grab her arm. Her other foot went right out after it, and then the left once more. Taking a moment, she steadied herself, clinging to his bicep. “Okay, I think I’m alright now.” She could feel it through his arm, though, him shaking with silent laughter. Oh, the look she gave, accompanied by a finger pointed in warning. “Don’t you dare.”

“It’d be entirely your own fault if you landed on your ass, wearing those ridiculous boots,” he reminded her. It was true. Ugg boots were not made for negotiating rapidly forming ice underfoot.

She looked up at him with a lopsided smile, rolling her eyes. “Point taken. I was too concerned you were about to do something stupid under duress when I put them on, though. Thank fuck I didn’t choose slippers.”

“There’s a joke right there, but it’s too damned obvious.” he noted, Taissa throwing her head back with laughter, almost losing her footing again. Except this time, she nearly took him with her, too. That laughter reached screaming for her, both recovering only to slip again, ending up doubled over in hysterics.

It was yet another real moment between them, genuine and unpretentious. No game playing, no calculating mental chess, nothing at all other than two people laughing at their own ridiculousness.

Looking down at her, he couldn’t remember a time she’d looked more beautiful. No uncomfortable feeling came to kick him for it, either. “We are not going to make it up this street like this. Get on my back, I’ll fucking carry you.” He then stopped and thought on it. “Actually no. Slip over, break your neck. Then I can fulfil my desire to know what it would be like to fuck your corpse.”

Taissa fell apart completely at that, his dark humour making tears pool her eyes, slapping his arm, having him roaring when she almost fell again.

She happily jumped up, being ferried to and from the shop on much steadier feet than her own. Upon arriving back at his apartment, she took the bags to the kitchen, a place he was shooed out from by her at once, Taissa going about her preparations. After about forty minutes of leaving her in peace, and with a rumbling stomach, he found his way back to her.

“So, what is this that you’re making?” he asked, sliding his arms around her waist and kissing her shoulder.

“French onion soup pasta.” Turning to him, she was met with a baffled face. “What?”

“No, no,” he dismissed, shaking his head. “It’s either soup or pasta. It cannot be both.”

“Who stays? Fuck the rules.” Taking the small spoon she’d been using to taste test the onions from the counter, she dug it into the sauce, blowing on it before offering it to his mouth.

There was all of five seconds of careful chewing before those head shakes turned to rapid nodding, Niklas pointing at the pan. “Yes, feed me that. That I am good with.”

Once they’d eaten, another couple of films were watched, Taissa feeling her head beginning to nod. That was the last thing she remembered before feeling the comfort of a bed beneath her, her clothes removed, the arms that had carried her there wrapping around her as he climbed in behind her.

“What time is it?”

“Two in the morning,” he spoke, kissing her cheek. “Go back to sleep, beautiful.”

She did, turning over and curling against his chest, kissing it a few times. Upon waking the following morning, she peered over from where she’d moved away from him in sleep, seeing him still shuttered from waking. Smiling at him, she kissed his head, getting out of bed and dressing quietly.

Fetching her jacket, she slipped her phone into the pocket, moving to collect her keys from the table. Picking them up, she felt something soft bump against her leg, looking down to see Katze weaving her ankles, her purrs soft and incessant. Crouching down, she reached for her head, receiving it pushed against her palm with affection.

“No,” she whispered. “I can’t hide it from you, can I?”

The cat merely continued to purr.

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 27 days ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Six.

It's an entire chapter of smut. That's it. That's the chapter. :D Big thanks to my darlings Diana and Lindsey as ever, my tiny audience of two!

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five

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

Words - 2,362

Even though he was much more a fan of natural tits than implants, Niklas had to admit, Taissa’s were gorgeous. Also, they still had jiggle, an absolute necessity as far as breasts went. That’s what he hated about some implants; the fact they were like rocks and didn’t move. Under the manipulation of his hands as he bit her nipples in turn, they definitely had that desired squish to them.

Grasping her thighs, he hauled her legs over his shoulders, her feet resting upon his back as his mouth glided over her skin. Taissa expected to be kept in anticipation perhaps, the heat of his breath enfolding around her like a mist. Gladly, she was proven wrong.

Her eyes fluttered shut at feeling him lick at her apex, a soft gasp floating from her throat, the very tip of his tongue pushing at her opening before he used it to drag a firm lick right through her folds, ending at her clit. The action made her jolt, her body keening against his mouth.

A flush of warmth skipped over her nerve endings from those first few tentative licks, her folds bathed in the hot press of his tongue, his groan gone to rasp as he teased her a little, made her keen for it. Fuck, she was so wet. With fingers joining his mouth, he stroked at her pink while focusing tightly licked circles around her clit, his middle finger slipping inside her. When it crooked and raked, the rapid upward jerk of her hips almost broke his nose.

“Fuck,” he grumbled, biting her thigh in retaliation.

“I’d apologise, but that was your fault.”

“So, I get punishment for knowing where your g spot is?” he snorted, biting her again. “That does not seem fair.”

“All is fair in sex and war,” she purred, raking her nails across his head, watching him flick the tip of his tongue in a soft skim over her folds.

“I notice you replace love there.”

Her lip curled slightly. “I don’t believe in the word.” Ahh, but she would. When he manipulated her to. Or, so he thought.

“Then we are the same.” Ahh, but she’d make him. When she manipulated him to, as was her steadfast plan. “Mmmm, such a pretty little pussy. I’m going to enjoy ruining it.” he then praised, sucking on her clit, removing his finger to close his mouth around her entirely, eating her with greed.

He flushed a summer tempest from her, balmy and winding, tongue flicking over her clit fast and rhythmically, the little bud swollen and tender, Niklas pausing to suck on it firmly once more. Lord, he was much too good with his mouth.

She lay there utterly floored by his talent, the dexterity of his fingers as two pushed back within her, the precision of his tongue as he took hard, sweeping licks over her bundle again and again. That air of arrogance he wore, the one that radiated his sexual self-confidence, he had every right to wear it with the pride he did, she thought, if this was what he could do to a woman with just two fingers and a tongue. Fuck.

While his fingers began to drive hard, the lewd noises from her glistening cunt filling the room, his tongue bathed her bud in featherlight licks, driving her out of her mind, her body a host of glimmering tingles, perfect pools of pleasure melting down her spine. He had her whining and gasping, her hands clutching at his arms, each lick quickening against her, watching her tits heaving as she panted hard.

He knew where she was heading, straight into wet heat driven bliss, her cries spilling from her mouth like wine as her nails dug in on his arms, her clit bouncing against his tongue as she came hard.

“Fuck, fuck, yes!” she squealed, her thighs closing around his head. “Okay, alright. You did it. You ruined me.”

His laughter was but a deep, dark chuckle, kissing her bare pubic mound. “I haven’t even started yet, Taissa.”

Shuddering as he returned his mouth to her, she yelped with oversensitivity when he began sucking at her again, the vibrations from his rumbling laugh adding something a little more pleasurable. Of course, he’d be a fucking demon where eating her cunt was concerned. He very much seemed to be the type to thrive on it.

He felt her thighs flexing against the sides of his head as his tongue began to beat softly over her clit once more, gentle heat winding through her, applying more pressure the less the shook against him as her oversensitivity passed. It flushed through her core like spring rain, the pleasure pattering, until it began to pelt down once again, her muscles tightening as she cried out, falling apart against the incessance of each lick.

Taissa expected him to emerge then, but no. He didn’t. However, he did grip her waist and roll onto his back, so she was knelt astride his head. “There, now you can ride my face. I remember you telling me that you wanted to.”

Oh, and how she did, beginning to grind herself against his mouth, nails shredding his heavily scarred arms as he grasped her tits and pinched her nipples.

“Are you content down there?”

The deep, rumbling laugh of response caused a pleasant shudder to run through her, even more pleasant than how it felt to be astride his face. “Am I content? Honey, you have me soaked in one of my favourite things. Of fucking course, I am.”

She gasped softly, the grazing prickle of his short beard over her folds almost biting, the warmth of his lips kissing her swollen clit as she dragged herself against them utterly sinful. “Not drowning you too much?”

“You are,” he confirmed, hands moving to her ass, spanking her hard. “But don’t you dare stop.” He gave her a firm suck, pleasure trickling down her spine, pooling over his chin as she continued to grind softly against his face, the slip of his nose upon her clit making her nerves bounce.

His tongue darted out, tasting the thick dew soaking his face, twirling through her folds before holding it firm and still, letting her ride it, her hips working in serpentine. It lit a comet of ecstasy to streak through her, warmth radiating right to her chest, Taissa reaching back to play with his cock until it was fully hard.

“Riding your face is one thing,” she began, shifting until she was astride his hips, sinking down onto him with a shuddered sigh. “Riding this is what I want more, though.”

He wasn’t about to stop her.

Rolling her hips against him, she moved in a way that had him entranced, her hand reaching to grasp his jaw. Tilting his head back sharply, she eyed the target, licking a slow line up the side of his neck before biting him. The growl that action summoned from the depths of him made her walls clench around his cock, slowly sinking back and forth as she bit him again, this time on the chest, red marks added in branding to the collection of black.

And fuck, she bit hard. That as well as the sight of her atop him, so impossibly, sensuously beautiful, she had his brain fried completely. The way she rode him only added to that, leaning to kiss him, the exchange all hunger and sin. Any kind of containment tumbled away as she fucked him into the bed hard, drawing his legs up behind her, nails dug into his thighs as she held him at the mercy of her fuck, but not for long.

Moving out from beneath her, he was behind her quickly, hand pressing into the back of her neck and clutching tightly. “Down.”

That singular word, delivered with an alluring air of dark dominance made something pleasant twist through her insides, lying until she was flat, pushing the round of her ass back against him. “Mm, good girl.” Fire that shot through her at hearing such gutturally delivered praise in his deep, rumbling voice, his hand holding her down while the other guided his cock against the soaking mess of her folds.

Many inches of vein ridged, steely thickness dragged through her slit, a whimper pouring from her mouth like wine, the head of him stroking against her clit in exquisite tease. He continued that languid, stimulating stroke, stars prickling his veins, pearls of pre cum smearing against the honey of her cunt before finally, he let it bathe his shaft entirely.

“Ahhh, fuck.” he whispered, arrowing her to the hilt, fingers clenching tightly at her neck as she cried out. His eyes fell to the divinely erotic sight of his cock sliding back and forth, watching her pink hugging him, splayed around his thickness, his hand pounding in a hard smack off her ass cheek.

Pushing her thighs together with his knees, the hug around him tightened more with her legs pressed together, Taissa gasping into the bed linen beneath her, the friction beyond perfect. Pleasure crackled through her, a slow burn stoked by the steady slip of his cock, her eyes scrunched tightly shut as her mouth hung open in exclamation.

And she’d thought the way he’d fucked her in the hallway had been unbeatable.

She yearned for raw and unfettered, but oh, how every colour illuminated behind her closed eyelids as he plunged her with all-in, all-out strokes. It rose in heat, like sunshine beaming through a deep winter chill, warmth chasing frost over her nerves, her walls fluttering on him as his hand met her ass in a hard spank again.

Incandescent tingles spread through her as he began to thrust with more purpose, hissing a groan as he dragged through the tight velvet of her cunt, golden glimmers glittering at the base of his spine. Her hips shunted back against him, her fingers moving to begin rubbing on her clit as he fucked her relentlessly, ecstasy starting to throb hot within her.

Sharp shocks began to meld with warm, rolling bliss, her muscles tightening as she came apart with a cry, feeling his cock twitching within the snug hug of her slick plush, pulsing ribbons of cum into her with a guttural groan. Pulling out, he watched the load he’d shot in slowly trickle from her opening, his fingers stroking her spine as she dropped flat, his body falling to the side of hers.

“I have a feeling I have not yet been sufficiently ruined,” she panted, watching him grin, the curl of his mouth almost sinister.

“No. Not by a long way.”

Words she was fond of hearing.

What followed was perhaps the most amazing display of cocaine fuelled, sexual carnage either had experienced in a long while. Taissa’s dominance, as he witnessed, was extremely well-rooted, and he let her have that power over him, enjoying being hurled around by the tiny yet very strong blonde. When she relented, though, submitting to him...

“Do you like that, hmm? Getting pounded by this big cock while they watch how much of a dirty whore you are?”

Between the high of the line she’d recently snorted, his growled words in her ear, and the feel of his cock daggering her with sharp thrusts, she almost couldn’t form words. The fact he had his belt around her neck slowly throttling her added to it, too.

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop!” she cried, the hand holding her leg up hitching it a little higher, pounding into her from behind so hard, her eyes watered. It hurt, but lord, it felt amazing. Knowing they were being viewed too by a small group of people in the building opposite as he fucked her, in full view of her bedroom window, acted as an acerbic accelerant to her arousal. She got off on being watched.

Little darts of pleasure prickled through her, a hail of sharp bathed in the beauty of her swelling release, Niklas knowing she was getting close, fucking her rapid snaps of his hips, yanking the belt to clench tightly around her throat. With her air and blood supply cut off, her release exploded in a dark swell as he filled her with cum, the slackening of the leather constricting her neck sending it through like a hail of fire.

Her body went limp in the aftermath of it, Niklas exiting the mess of her cunt with a slippery pop, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. Grasping her jaw, he turned her head, making her look at him.

“Are you alright?” AEA had its dangers, even with a person such as him who knew how to do it well. He’d rather she wasn’t about to pass out on him.

She beamed. “Mmm. Floating in bliss. Shhh.”

That was good enough for him, settling beside her, giving her the time to enjoy the comedown from the high her orgasm had left her with.

“Thank you,” she eventually said, stretching before turning onto her side, idly running her index fingernail up and down his chest.

“You are very welcome,” he replied, winking at her. “I need to rest a while now, though. I’m an old man, I cannot fuck quite like I could when I was twenty-five.”

She scoffed, frowning. “You are not old, Niklas.”

“I am,” he spoke, pointing to his beard. “See this, the grey? Old.”

“Yes, but that is so sexy,” she purred, her fingers stroking those silvery patches in his dark blonde beard, shuffling closer, nibbling his cheek with a little growl. “You have absolutely no idea what you do to me. I swear, when you first opened your apartment door to me, my pussy almost had a seizure.”

He barked a laugh, shaking his head.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

He raised his eyebrows, shrugging a little.

“Fine,” she sighed, moving to sit astride him. “Then I will show you how sexy I think you are.”

He looked a little pained, but still very accepting. “Little beast.”

She showed him for sure. Until 4am, when they finally crashed, sleeping through until noon.

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 month ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Four.

Previous Chapters - One Two Three

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

Words - 2,762

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Send me Kvarforth’s number.’

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

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

‘Ohhhh, has Tai got a crush?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I always am. See you at six-thirty.’

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

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

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

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

They were very similar there.

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

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

Again, they were very similar there.

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

And yet again, they were very similar there.

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

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

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

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

And of course, it would be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait here.”

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

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

“Where’s my fucking money, Eino?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 month ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Two.

Previous Chapters - One

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

Words - 2,464

A quick Google search between her drops had alluded to just enough information on the man she’d dealt an eighth to earlier that evening in order to be armed appropriately. He had a nylon fetish, and liked it when women wore high heels. Two things she just so happened to be very fond of herself, too. Whether wearing them or seducing another woman in them. Often both.

Make yourself prey, but always, without deviation, remain the hunter.

Pulling her sleek, black BMW into the overnight carpark, she grabbed her bag and shoes (six-inch heels were not practical for driving) slipping her feet into them and buckling the straps, exiting her car. She paused, checking her reflection. Perfection, as always. Then again, prolific, well-connected drug dealers were never anything other than immaculate. They could afford to be.

She’d chosen a tight, black dress short enough to show the lace tops of her nylons, the type that adhered to her long, toned legs without the need for a garter belt, her PVC pin heels echoing upon the concrete as she walked to the elevator. Once inside, she quickly re-glossed her lips, giving her long, loose curls a quick ruffle.

“Lady, you look like walking sex,” she purred to her reflection, snapping her Chanel compact shut. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

And god, how he wouldn’t.

The Roadhouse was a little low brow for her tastes, but at least the music would be decent, she reasoned. The doormen knew her well, too, let her deal in there for a very generous cut of the profits. In her world, everyone could be bought. Plus, wherever she went, there’d be a likely throng of people waiting to party with her.

Hell, Taissa was the party. Young, rich and beautiful. Everyone wanted to gravitate in her orbit.

“Hey sexy! Can I take you home?” a man hollered at her as soon as she was out on the street, her lip curling immediately.

Spinning on a heel, she looked him up and down, smirking. “Stay in your lane, little boy. I’m too much woman for you.”

His friends howled like wolves at her audacity, the man throwing a barrage of abuse she didn’t have the inkling or the time to give any kind of witty retort to, continuing her walk.

“Evening, princess,” Oliver, one of said doormen welcomed her with, making a point to check her bag, of course ignoring the two ounces of cocaine in small wraps concealed within the middle pocket, and her ever present knuckle dusters. “Looking gorgeous, as ever. Have a good night.”

Smiling, she pressed two fifties into his hand with a wink. “You too, Oli.” He held the door open for her, Taissa sauntering in with her usual feline glide, the music absolutely deafening. Ahhh, old school night. The pounding of Feed the Gods by nineties metal band White Zombie erupted in her ears as she strode for the bar, a few familiar faces turning to welcome her.

She didn’t really have friends, more hangers on, but she liked the group who all greeted her enthusiastically.

“Tai! Get over here!” Pieter, a very good-looking man who she knew well roared, kissing her cheek, Taissa beaming, reaching for his girlfriend and planting a kiss on her lips.

“I’m stealing your girl. Look after my bag,” she began, clicking her fingers at the barman and pointing to the smooth, black wooden surface dividing them. “Jim Beam, two bottles.”

Whatever the lady wanted, the lady got, two bottles of the aforementioned bourbon produced, the barman knowing of course she was good for it. As well as a very generous tip. Off she and Pieter’s girlfriend – a good-looking girl whose name she nearly always forgot – went, dancefloor bound. If she didn’t have almost every pair of male eyes upon her from the moment she’d strode in, she definitely did once she began to gyrate against the pretty redhead. A certain pair in particular.

“Man, you need to turn around. Free show on the dancefloor. Fuck!”

Sinking another shot of San Jose, Niklas turned to see what Bjorn and his elbow digging were alluding to, feeling his heart quicken in an instant. There she was, the blonde.

“Hey, so are you gonna buy me a drink, or what?”

Those words, cooed in his ear by a girl who’d attached herself to him as soon as he’d arrived at the bar barely registered in significance, not now he’d spotted the object of his extremely aroused desire a mere twenty feet away from him.

“No.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re an asshole.”

“I am, now fuck off. You bore me.” He didn’t even look back at her to watch her storm away in a cloud of her own chagrin, his eyes locked onto the blonde, entranced, reaching for another of the many shots lined up and sinking it without tearing his gaze away. “You’re too attractive for your own good.” he muttered, feeling Bjorn nudging him again.

“She’s fucking hot, huh?”

His mouth twitched into a half-smile. “She’s definitely something.”

“That's a very reserved statement for you, my friend,” he observed, taking a shot and knocking it back.

“Trust me, what’s on my mind is not.” His words roused a booming laugh from his friend, Bjorn slapping him on the back, pulling him near to kiss his head.

“Go get her, man! Because you don’t take a ride on that tonight, I sure as fuck will!”

Niklas continued to watch, leaning closer to him. “She can come to me.”

His stance flew in the face of what Taissa had told him, that he’d have to work for it, but he didn’t care. He had his ways. Besides, he knew what she was doing. He could see her making sure he was watching her dance wildly out of the corner of her eye, so simply turned his back and continued talking with his friend.

He never said he wasn’t hard work, too. Her game was something he knew very, very well how to play. However, Taissa knew how to play it better, going about her night without giving him a second look, ensuring that as soon as he realised she was no longer actively seeking his attention, that was the exact thing she received.

Being ignored did not sit well with him.

“Tai, here,” the barman spoke, sliding over a tall shot glass across the bar a while later, jerking his head in the opposite direction. “From Kvarforth. On one condition; you have to drink it without using your hands.”

Her eyebrows fluttered, her group making an array of interested noises at such a proposition, Taissa looking over at the man who’d bought it for her. She knew he’d find some way to get her attention, eventually. Holding her hair back, she leaned to the bar, wrapping her lips around the glass and straightening, the golden liquid tingling her throat as she swallowed it neatly.

Niklas clapped casually, his mouth curling upward. He’d enjoyed watching that more than he thought he would, observing as she poured a shot of bourbon into the glass, picked up her bag and made her way over to him. Two could play his game, but she’d play it better.

Arriving in front of him, she lifted the glass, sticking it between her tits, looking back up at him with a little smirk. “Now you drink it without using your hands.”

Standing a little taller, his eyebrow rose a tad, a grin of mirth spreading across his face before he bent to her level, retrieved the glass with his mouth and swallowed back the contents. God, she had skin like a peach, sweet scented and smooth. He ignored the approving howling of Bjorn at the display of flirting, becoming lost in the pale blue of her eyes, his heartbeat jacking up with every thud.

She held him there in a trance, reaching for him, her long nails curling at the sides of his neck as she leaned into to him, pressed her body against his, and promptly licked his cheek.

“Mmm, you taste as good as you smell.”

He leaned to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “I’m sure I could say the same about you, too.”

“Would you like that?” she teased, leaning back, reining in his stare once more, watching him nod, about to speak. Any words he had were stolen from his throat as he observed her hand sliding down her body and under her dress, the noise of Bjorn going wild at his side, the thundering roar of music all fading as he watched in semi-disbelief as she pushed her hand into her underwear momentarily, and then her fingers into his mouth.

If Taissa knew one thing well, if was how to make a man’s brain short circuit completely.

Letting him suck on her fingers, a look of bliss spread across his face at the taste of her dancing over his tongue. Oh, she’d hooked him. Grasping his jaw, she yanked him to her level, pushing her tits against his chest, her teeth nipping his earlobe. “Now you know what you have to work for, so work for it.”

Every girl in that club could have learned from her in the lesson ‘how to get Niklas Kvarforth’s attention in one easy move’, the man himself so aroused, he almost bit her fingers off.

Yanking them from his mouth, she scowled, her hand striking his cheek in a hard slap that took him by surprise, but delighted him in equal measures. He enjoyed when women stood up to him, showed a little fire, weren’t as boring and predictable as the rest.

“Work for it, big guy. Then you get to bite me.” Puckering her lips at him, she ran her fingernail along the curve of his jaw, turning and walking in that alluring glide towards the door. Pulling her cigarettes from her bag, she placed one between her lips, counting in her head. Five, four, three, two...

A tattooed hand came into her line of vision, flicking his lighter for her. Sparks preceded the flame, lighting her cigarette before doing the same with his own, staring down at her. The taste of her still lingered on his tongue, acting like a drug, luring strongly, pulling him in.

“Let's cut out all of this bullshit, huh? I want you, you want me, blah, blah blah. Let me take you home and trust me, that hard work you want? I’ll put it into making you come so many times, you can’t shut your legs.”

“A bold statement,” she asserted, drawing on her cigarette languidly.

His face didn’t flicker at all. "One I can back up. Trust me.” He leaned to her, his gaze predatory, hungry, almost wolf-like. “I would fucking ruin you, honey."

She chuckled, teasing him by making a show of licking her highly glossed lips, letting him imagine it, how they’d feel all over him, especially sliding over the place her free hand reached to stroke. “Not before I ruin you, Niklas. Because I will, don’t say you weren’t warned.”

“Doubtful, but I’ll look forward to you trying to prove that.” The tickle of her nails over his crotch had him rapidly hardening, Taissa impressed at what she could feel gaining thickness and heat against her touch.

“You probably will, but not tonight.”

“Then when?” he asked, his hand gliding down her bare arm. It sent an instant shiver through her. She wouldn’t be easily swayed, though. No matter how electrifying his touch. If that was how it felt when he stroked her arm...

Her hand grasped, squeezing his cock, placing a kiss full of syrupy heat at the side of his tattooed throat, a faint, soft little moan of approval at his hardness fluttering against his neck. How he could have mauled the skin from her bones in that very moment.

“When you work for it.”

He chuckled deep in his throat, a low, predatory rumble, eyes glinting. “Little girl, unless you like being burned, don’t play with fire.”

Of course, she had an answer for him, her face nearing his once more, just enough to make him yearn for it, crave the kiss she wouldn’t grant. “Niklas, please. I am the fire.”

That frustration spurred him into action. Back into the club he went, finding the next most attractive woman in there.

“Wanna fuck me?”

“Yes.”

Easy, willing, boring. But it was what he needed after the thorough stirring he’d received, taking the girl home and fucking her so hard, he was surprised he didn’t break the bed. Or her. All the time, too, it wasn’t the pretty, raven-haired woman he was with that he imagined. In his mind, all he saw was himself fucking the blonde. And he would. Eventually. Maybe sooner than he thought.

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 23 days ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Seven.

Apologies to my darlings Diana and Lindsey for not having this with you yesterday. I was chaotically busy ALL day and worked until 7:30pm.

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six

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

Words - 2,967

She was doing it on purpose, and he knew that, being evasive with him over when she’d see him next. Being played by any other woman would probably result in him reducing her to a level he felt fitting as payback, but her? He couldn’t muster the resolve. Just the memory alone of how she fucked him made his legs tremble.

Taissa was, he realised, rapidly becoming another addiction to add to his list.

It was the desired effect, exactly how she’d engineered it, but oh, it did not mean that denying herself of the man came easily. It most definitely did not. After messing him around twice in one week over when she would visit, Taissa found that there was only so much he was prepared to take on that score before he did something about it.

She was settled into her evening alone, enjoying a bottle of wine after her dinner when her door buzzed. Heading to the small video screen in the hallway, she grinned smugly to see who was waiting outside her building. She had wondered if he’d take it upon himself to come to her unannounced, pondering whether she should leave him there waiting.

“I know you’re home, Taissa. Let me in.”

Pressing the button, the door unlocked, Taissa lingering in the hallway until he knocked her door.

“So, you’ve...”

That was as far as he got before his finger pressed to her lips. “Shhh.” Reaching for her clothes, he stripped her bare in the hallway, ducking to lift her over his shoulder. Once he’d thrown her down on the bed, he knelt at the foot, yanking her to the edge roughly by her ankles before burying his mouth between her legs.

Both literally and figuratively, she had him exactly where she wanted him, obviously so pent up with frustration at her cancelling on him twice that he’d taken it upon himself to rectify that. He couldn’t get enough of her, and that in itself was thrilling. Being on the receiving end of a mouth so talented was the clincher of it for her, though.

“Ohhh, oh fuck.” She softly gasped, his tongue pushing through her folds, taking that first explorative lick at her. Using his fingers, he parted the petals of her cunt, licking her again, a slow, flat drag of his tongue causing her back to arch off the bed, bending elegantly like a bow. He smirked to himself, the thrill of having caused such a response with a mere two licks. Oh, how he’d make her fall apart completely when he really got going.

His eyes took in her glinting hole, sparkling pink and dewy with need already, pushing his tongue within her, a cry leaving her mouth, slowly dragging a hard lick up to her clit and proceeding to circle, softly at first, making her tingle. Little cries left her mouth as he continued to sweep over her bud, feeling it swelling against his tongue, Taissa thinking herself mad to have denied this all in favour of baiting him.

“Missed me, didn’t you?”

“Perhaps.” Her statement made him chuckle deeply, wrapping her clit in the soft heat of his lips and sucking, her nails digging into his shoulders as she trembled. Her head spun, running her nails over his scalp as she quivered, hips softly undulating against his face, each lick at her clit like wet heat driving cool fire as he built her up steadily.

Sensations of bliss pooling against his mouth turned his groans to gravel, eating her now with more fervour, devouring every last bit of her pink, sending pleasure sparking up her spine. Her release brimmed forth, her little cries of ecstasy driving him on, his tongue lashing hard against her bud. It sent her reeling as she teetered and then exploded, the release washing over her, her waves crashing against his shore, leaving her breathless.

How the fuck he made her always come rapidly was beyond her.

Kissing a path over her skin, Taissa revelled in the feeling of his fully clothed body pressing against her nakedness, shuddering as his mouth met her neck.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he whispered, pushing his thumb into her mouth, watching her suck on it as desire danced like blue flames in her eyes.

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Badly,” she sighed, reaching for him, Niklas surprising her by standing up and shaking his head.

“You can wait, just like you made me.” He exited her apartment without further word, Taissa lying there still breathless, and absolutely fuming.

“You motherfucker!” she exclaimed, her orgasm still tingling upon her clit as she frowned. The nerve of him!

Payback was most definitely in order.

The opportunity came when he called to pick up an eighth of coke from her five days later, Taissa telling him she’d cover the drop on her way back home since she was nowhere near his area on her route. It was a rare slow night, too, meaning she was done at 10pm. This afforded her time to go and change at home first, dropping Heinrik off too before she headed back across town to Niklas’s place.

“Special delivery for Mr. Kvarforth,” she purred upon him opening the door, opening her long coat to reveal the scandalously sexy set of black underwear she had on. Nylons included. His pulse? Instant stratosphere.

“I expected you to be pissed off with me still,” he spoke, surprised and turned on by the sight in equal measures, Taissa pulling out the bag of coke and placing it into his hand. He put it in the pocket of the sweatpants he wore, exchanging the correct cash, watching the way her eyes roved him hungrily as she dropped her trench coat and bag to the hallway floor. Even in the simplicity of black sweats and a vest of the same colour, he was mouthwatering to her.

Leaning to him, she grazed his arms with her nails, placing a soft bite just beneath his jaw. “Of course, I’m not.” Stepping back, she then took the small bottle she’d been concealing within her bra, Niklas raising an eyebrow.

“Amyl?” It definitely looked like the kind of brown glass container amyl nitrite was sold in.

“Massage oil, with a slight hint of peppermint. It tingles, but pleasantly. As you’re about to find out.” Placing the bottle down on the table, she made sure her hand was plenty slick before turning him around to face the large mirror upon the wall, positioning herself behind him. “I’m going to play with this beautiful, big cock, and you’re going to watch while I do it.”

Biting his earlobe, she flicked it with her tongue while peering over his shoulder, her huge heels boosting her height considerably. Her hands reached his sweats, already tented from his erection at just seeing her looking so smoulderingly sexy, Taissa tugging them down to free the thick cock that sprang forth.

Wrapping her hand around it, she began gently sliding her hand in a slick grasp upon him, thumb trailing the tip, gently pushing his foreskin back to squeeze the head of him. His knees almost buckled at that, Niklas tensing his thighs, groaning low as she caressed him expertly.

Running her tongue up the side of his neck, she felt herself getting wet, thriving on watching how mindless she was making him. “I think of this cock, when I’m alone, when I’m touching myself. I imagine it, how fucking good it feels to be split around it, how you always make me so wet when you fuck me.”

Brain. Fried. He couldn’t form any response to that, a shuddered breath leaving his mouth as he watched her pump his cock, his eyes closing momentarily. A hand met his cheek in a hard slap.

“Eyes open. You will watch.”

It sent a bolt through him, burning and bright, his cheek stinging as he turned his head and bit her cheek. Taissa grasped his jaw and forced him to face forward, her hand sliding to hold his neck, fingers tensing a little. “You’re so fucking hard. God, it feels amazing and it’s only my hand wrapped around it. Can’t wait to feel it rearranging my insides.”

She knew exactly what she was doing, steering him into the choppy seas of his arousal before sending him completely adrift on the pleasure of it, her hand tightening as she tugged at him a little harder. “I’m so wet, it’s starting to soak my underwear. Fuck, I need you. So fucking badly. But not yet. You stay exactly where you are.”

The waves of bliss surged stronger with every upward pull of her hand, his chest beginning to heave, Taissa knowing it wouldn’t take long. “Are you going to come for me? Spill it all over my hand and watch as I lick it clean?”

“Mm,” he grunted, his ascension climbing rapidly, ecstasy creeping up his spine like a vine.

She purred softly in his ear, biting the lobe, smiling wickedly. “Well, you might come this evening, but it won’t be because of me.” Releasing her grasp upon him, she kissed his cheek, chuckling smugly. “That’s what you get for fucking with me.”

Turning, she went to pick up her coat, but instead found herself railed straight into the door by a man near out of his mind with arousal, Niklas grasping her underwear and yanking it to the side.

“No, this is what you get, little beast.” One push and he was in her to the hilt, hands clutching hard at her hips and yanking her back, pushing her until she bent at the waist. She tried to fight against him, but it was to little avail, Niklas surprising himself even by the sheer dark voracity that descended him. “Don’t struggle. You don’t play games with me and win. Ever.”

Taking a handful of her hair, he wound it around his fist, pulling until her head was tilted back, Taissa pushing her hands into the back of the door to brace herself a little against the savage onslaught of his fuck. He drove into her like a piston, brutal and unhinged, the sound of their flesh smacking together filling the air, Taissa crying out at how amazing it felt. The fact that it was a little non-consensual only added to the utter thrill of it.

“Fuck, that’s it, ahhh!” she panted, turning her head all she could to look back at him with a smouldering pout. “Punish me with your cock for being bad.”

He truly did, too, fucking her like a jackhammer, until she wailed, feeling her insides bruise from it, the pain curling around the waves of pleasure like an angry serpent within her. Her release felt like a knife’s edge twisting within, sharp, but steeped in bliss, her brain foggy as she felt him come deep within her after a few seconds, hauling her up by her hair as she fluttered around his cock.

“See, you could have this whenever you wanted it, if only you stopped being a fucking child and playing games with me,” he panted, hand stroking her throat, cock finally slipping from the hug of her cunt. “You will never win. I proved that.”

All she wanted in that moment was to turn around, punch him in the eye and storm out, but fuck. She couldn’t. Once again, he’d rendered her an utter mess, her legs trembling, her brain scrambled, the feel of his wide chest pressing against her back steadying.

They both stood silently for a while, Niklas pulling up his sweats and wrapping his arm around her waist, knowing if he released his grasp of her, she’d fall. “I’m going out shortly. Want to cut your bullshit and come with me?” He then hummed a deep laugh, hand sweeping over her. “Not really dressed for it though, are you?”

“If you have an old t shirt you don’t mind me attacking with a pair of scissors, I could be.” she spoke, finally feeling steady enough to take her own weight properly, moving away from him and walking a little awkwardly into the bathroom. While she was in there, he went to his bedroom, finding an old, faded Shining t shirt that had seen better days, one with the Misanthrop design across the front.

Once she was done, he handed her the shirt along with a pair of sharp scissors, Taissa taking it and laying it down neatly on the floor, kneeling to begin her snipping. He went and lit himself a cigarette, preparing himself a line and snorting it before going to change into a t shirt and jeans, finding her still creating when he arrived back in the hallway.

What started out as a t shirt ended up as a sleeveless dress, completely backless other than strings of fabric all pulled and knotted carefully to give an illusion of something close to an intricate corset ribbon almost, Taissa working quickly as she looped each piece through the next. Standing, she removed her bra, pulled the t shirt on and went back into the bathroom.

While in there, she used the mirror to line up all of the detailing at the back, the dress only just about long enough to reach the orbs of her ass, but definitely not covering it. Giving her hair a quick ruffle, she searched her bag for makeup, lining and smudging her eyes with black kohl until they were smoky and glossing her lips.

“Turn around,” he spoke, circling his finger when she exited the bathroom, Taissa obliging the request. When he saw her from the back, his eyebrow rose sharply. Wow.

“You like?” she spoke, picking up her coat and hanging it upon the hook where a few of his resided. “I think I’ll leave this here. It’ll spoil the view.”

His smile began to grow, picking up his keys and phone. “I think that is the best free advertising for my band I have ever seen.”

Sauntering to him, she pushed her hands into his chest, nails flexing. “It isn’t free. I expect you to bring me back here and eat my pussy so fucking thoroughly, I won’t be able to feel anything from the waist down once you’re done.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t I always?”

She supposed there was no argument to that, Taissa turning and opening the door, feeling her near-naked ass slapped hard as she exited it.

An Uber ride across the city had them pulling up outside a small rock club, one Niklas could easily tolerate since the clientele tended to A – not fawn over him nauseatingly and let him enjoy a night without being constantly pestered and B – they played more of the classic rock he preferred to his modern contemporaries. Attention was exactly what he received as he and Taissa walked in, though, as soon as the back of her dress was viewed. Or rather, lack thereof.

“Here, have this, and hi! We didn’t get chance to meet when I saw you before,” Bjorn began, handing Niklas a beer. “I’m Bjorn, and you are?” Catching a glimpse of the back of her dress as she turned slightly, he gently touched a hand to her shoulder, making her turn around. “Freezing, is how I should think you are, actually, with what you’re almost wearing!”

“Taissa,” she confirmed, entertained at his joke.

“And Taissa is drinking what?”

“Double Jim Beam rocks, thanks.”

Yelling the order at the barman, he then made a beckoning motion to Niklas with his finger, the latter leaning close. “You lucky bastard.”

He grinned. “I know.”

Taissa heard the exchange, her face smug, feeling Niklas reach to rest his hand on her ass... a jolt of anger tightening her insides when she then saw it couldn’t have been his hand, watching him raise the glass of beer to his lips. Before she had chance to turn around and punch whoever it was, his eyes fell to witness it, his reaction much faster as he slammed the glass down atop the bar and grabbed the man by his neck.

“Fucking touch her again, I dare you,” he snarled, taking the man’s hand and bending his finger back. “Want me to keep going? Get the fuck away from her, or trust me, I will. I won’t stop at your fingers either.”

“Probation, probation, man!” Bjorn repeated in warning, grabbing the back of his hoodie, Taissa resting her hand to Niklas’s chest, her touch working well to calm him. Putting herself between them, she leaned to the man, so close her nose almost touched his.

“Put your hands on me again, and it’ll be the last time you have hands. It won’t come from the big, angry guy behind me either. It’ll come from me. Trust me, you want to leave. Now. I don’t make promises I cannot back up, motherfucker.”

He wasn’t sure how truthful she was being, but in true chauvinist fashion, it was more the look Niklas was giving him behind her that made him scurry out of the club, Taissa turning to have Bjorn hand her drink over.

“I like your style, and I ain’t just talking about the dress,” he grinned, Taissa slipping herself in at Niklas’s side, winding her arm around him. He reciprocated, feeling her lips press a kiss just beneath his jaw, lowering her head to meet them with his.

“That was very gallant of you,” she remarked, feeling his hand slip down to squeeze her ass. That hand was of course entirely welcome there.

He shrugged, picking up his beer. “What can I say? I don’t like sharing my toys.”

His words didn’t exactly match the way he looked at her, Taissa beaming, kissing him again.

Her plan was coming together quite nicely.

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 6 days ago

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Burn Bright White Masterlist

(Moodboard created by the lovely @call-sign-shark)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

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

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darklydeliciousdesires · 17 days ago

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Burn Bright White - Chapter Nine.

Previous Chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

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

Words - 3,362

They fell into it with ease, four months on from first meeting, a certain degree of comfort neither had truly been expecting. It was nowhere near contented domesticity, but still, it was something more. Both remained adamant that it wasn’t anything other than casual, however, their tactics still continually executed as if their relationship was a game of chess.

Neither wanted to admit what it was slowly becoming.

“It’s me. Fuck, what a motherfucking night!”

Niklas was settled in his lounge, Bjorn seated adjacent at the other end of the L shaped sofa, both steadily working their way through a lot of beer the latter had brought with him. He wasn’t in the mood to go out, going through a down phase in his struggles with bipolar disorder, Bjorn having to talk him into being social at all.

He reminded him of course, if he did things, even little ones as a few beers with his friend, he could usually offset the depressive shift to a degree. Niklas had to concede that he was quite right, so had invited him over.

Entering the lounge, Taissa greeted Bjorn with a kiss upon his head as she kicked off her shoes. He then got a surprise in seeing her yank off her ridiculously tight jeans, unable to stop himself checking out her ass. The dark look it earned from Niklas made him snort laugh. He was, as ever, a possessive creature.

She didn’t stop there, unclipping her bra from beneath the long, t shirt style top she wore, flinging it across the lounge with a happy sigh before moving to seat herself in Niklas’s lap. A nearby Katze growled at her, as she always did, the cat not particularly fond of the new female presence in her person’s life.

“Feel free to make yourself comfortable, Tai.”

“Thank you, I will.”

Sarcasm aside, he picked up one of the bottles of cider Bjorn had brought with him for her, unscrewing the cap and handing it to her. “Why was it, as you say, a motherfucking night, then?”

“Where to start!” she exclaimed, raising her hand in exclamation, dropping it into her lap. “I was so busy that I ran out twice, had to head home and weigh and bag with Heinrik, who I never like having in my apartment because he is a clumsy oaf.

“The second time we ran out, we went to Miika’s place, where Carla fucking stupidly ate something that had trace elements of nuts in. Because my brother is panicking and losing his head, I had to stab her thigh with an Epi Pen and then take her to hospital, before she went into full-blown anaphylaxis.”

“I have that with bees,” he nodded.

“He got stung one time and had no fucking Epi Pen, so I had to get a whole packet of antihistamines into him while he’s drunk and angry as hell, covered in hives with his tongue starting to swell. It was a fun afternoon,” Bjorn snorted sardonically, remembering it well.

“A mental note has been made,” she replied, grinning. “If you ever piss me off enough, the bees will be my minions.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Your evil streak is as fantastic as ever.”

“Anyway, we get to hospital and despite the Epi Pen, she’s fucking blowing up like a balloon, can’t breathe, wheezing, rash all over her face, so it must have been out of date or something,” she continued.

“Unless you did it incorrectly,” Niklas offered, trying at least to bite back the mischievous smirk. “But that would mean admitting you are wrong.”

She leaned to him, her nose pressing against his. “I am never wrong.”

He began to shake with laughter. “You are.” It was too entertaining, provoking a reaction from his little beast.

“Look at you, talking like a man who wants to jeopardise having his face stood on again,” she teased, of course knowing Niklas would instantly remember what else she was doing to him at the time. Bjorn, however, remained in the dark.

"Why would you stand on his face?”

Turning to him, she sipped her cider, her grin growing. “How else am I to make him deep throat the heel of my shoe while I pee on his chest in a bathtub?”

What she was met with was perhaps the greatest array of facial expressions, from slightly aghast, to thoughtful, to entertained in the space of ten seconds.

Her amusement was clear, pointing at him. “That is a full-on attack of the face, Bjorn.”

Truly, she wasn’t wrong, Niklas shaking with laughter at his friend, Bjorn floundering for a moment. “I, um... I... don’t know whether to be aroused or offended at hearing that. I really don’t.”

“You haven’t lived until you’ve had a hot girl piss on you, brother,” Niklas offered, Bjorn still trying to process the information.

“Nah, I’m not into that, but you go ahead, man,” he began, pointing then to Taissa questioningly. “How did you manage to wear heels in a bathtub without falling over, though?”

“I have a big tub,” she shrugged.

“Okay, that answers my question.” He sipped a beer before lighting himself a cigarette, side eyeing her curiously. “I feel a little violated for knowing this, though. Or like you should be charging me for hearing it.”

His words had them both in soft fits, Bjorn shaking his head. He was used to his friend and his varying degrees of sexual depravity by that point, though, Taissa continuing with her story regarding Carla and her allergic reaction. As she spoke, he noticed it very clearly, how content his friend looked. He didn’t often witness that within him.

He had wondered how healthy it would be for him, to effectively be dating someone who seemed to be his female equivalent, a drug dealing one at that, but there was a calmness to him that couldn’t be ignored. He looked much happier for simply having her near on that evening, for example, coming out of himself a little more.

That wasn’t to say, however, that such a fear over her suitability shouldn’t have been discounted, though.

A few days later, after a night of cocaine bingeing and heated sex, Niklas lay awake next to a sleeping Taissa, unable to fall asleep. He knew why, too. He’d stayed an extra night and didn’t have his medication on him, feeling it creeping through his brain before it arrived.

Blinking a few times, he focused with a slight start, seeing them there. During schizophrenic blackouts, when he began to hallucinate, there were always two dark shadows who turned up without fail, haunting him, creeping closer to where he lay.

“They aren’t there. They are not really there.” he repeated in whisper, closing his eyes. He felt his leg tapped, so real, unable to ignore it. Opening his eyes again, he saw one beginning to morph.

“Nothing you ever do is good enough. This is why you are so sick. I always told you, didn’t I? You keep making it worse for yourself, don’t you?”

Of course, his mother was not truly there, but fuck, the reality of it. It still frightened him, just how vividly his brain could hallucinate mere figments into appearing before him.

“Niklas, listen to me!”

Screwing his eyes even tighter shut, he raised the covers over his head, turning onto his side. If only he could fall asleep, the hallucinations would cease to haunt him until he could get home and take a necessary dose. It had been stupid of him to think he would be fine without it, when he very much wasn’t.

“Niklas, stop ignoring me.”

“Fuck off,” he muttered. “You are dead. You are not here.”

The covers moved, and there she was beside him. “Stop ignoring me, my son. You must listen to me! I tell you all of this only for your own good.”

“No. You are not here.”

“I am, and you will listen! Niklas!”

Grabbing a pillow, he stuffed his face into it, reminding himself over and over that it was only his brain playing tricks. He knew it wasn’t real, of course he did, but that didn’t make it any easier to handle.

“Niklas.”

“Niklas!”

Feeling a hand shaking him, he shrugged it off, swiping his arm to remove it.

“Niklas!”

His hearing began to become afflicted, his mother’s voice sounding like a slowed down droning, as if someone had recorded it and played it back at less than half speed.

“Niklas.”

The voice that reached him then wasn’t Suzanne’s, the tone dulcet, Finnish. “Niklas, open your eyes. I think you’re dreaming.” Emerging from the pillow, he felt his insides unclench, Taissa stroking his face as she looked down at him. “Are you okay?”

“No. I need to go home and get my meds. Not dreams. Fucking psychosis. Hallucinations.”

She nodded calmly, pushing the covers back. “I will take you.”

Leaving the bed as well, he shook his head, grabbing his boxers and pulling them on, his jeans following. “I’ll get an Uber. If I have a meltdown in the car, I do not want you to crash.”

The Uber driver was fair game, though, apparently. Not that Taissa cared much. “I’m still coming with you, in case you become unmanageable.”

He scoffed darkly, pulling his t shirt on. “There isn’t much you will be able to do, if that happens.”

She was thoughtful for a few minutes, pondering a way around it. “Unless I tranquilise you? Can you take Valium on your meds without, you know, dying or anything?” She had those illegal prescription items in abundance, after all.

Picking up his phone, he quickly consulted Google, blinking and once again seeing the black shadows returned, hovering around above the bed. “Yes, I can.”

She nodded, pulling on her sweats, locating a small, cropped top from her drawer, foregoing underwear. A long, thick cardigan was then added, the usual cold hitting Finland now December had arrived, Taissa pulling on socks and jamming her feet into her Ugg boots. “I’ll grind a couple up and you can snort them, means they’ll kick in faster.”

Her calm pragmatism was exactly what he needed, Niklas feeling fortunate for having her there as he followed her over to the lounge area, Taissa moving to her stash and locating the drugs. With two tablets quickly crushed beneath a spoon and chopped finely with a razorblade, he snorted them rapidly, leaving the apartment with her shortly afterwards.

The groggy feeling hit him on the way down to the parking garage in the elevator, swaying a little, Taissa having to steer him to her car. Even though he was almost out of it, she still confined him to the back seats, clipping a belt around him. While she drove, he fought to try and stay awake, knowing she’d struggle to get him up to his apartment if he succumbed to the stupor of the medication.

His eyelids fluttered, seeing the two black shadows returned. One loomed over him, its completely white eyes blinking rapidly as it peered at him, those eyes narrowing as he heard it begin to cackle. The other sat beside Taissa in the front, its long, spindly fingers making a motion to grasp her neck and throttle her, Niklas lashing out, his fist meeting air and then the passenger seat.

“Don’t... don’t you fucking touch her.” He knew there was nothing there, but it was so, so real.

Taissa accelerated the car forwards, reaching back to grasp his hand. “Shhh, Niklas. There isn’t anything here. It isn’t real, you’re okay. It’s just you and me.”

Gladly, the journey to his place took less time than usual, being that it was 3:36am and the streets were all quiet, Taissa having to heave him from the car and partially carry him.

“Sorry. I am trying not to fall asleep,” he spoke, shaking himself, slapping his face hard in an effort to hang onto his consciousness.

“Don’t fight it. We’re almost there.” It was a struggle nonetheless, just about making it to his front door with his weight slumped against her, taking his keys to let them in. She deposited him onto the bed, Niklas just about coherent enough to take out the correct number of pills, dry swallowing them. At least when he woke up, they’d be gone, the shadows right there in the bedroom doorway.

“Shall I leave you to sleep?” she asked.

Fighting his clothes from his body, he didn’t reply until he was beneath the covers, woozier than he could remember feeling in a long time. “Stay, but only if you want to. I don’t expect it.”

Slipping her clothes off, she climbed in beside him, allowing him to wrap himself around her. Cuddling up in bed wasn’t part of what they had, but she knew it was necessary to play along. Caring and dutiful, looking after him, it would all go further to earning his trust.

She could feel it, his guard lowering, knowing he was falling. He wasn’t investing in nearly as many manipulation tactics as he once had with her, she could tell clearly. Feigning care was easy for her, her sociopathy meaning that of course, she did not connect emotionally to him, or the moment. She wasn’t capable. Or, so she thought.

Yes. She had him exactly where she wanted him, pushing down the growing, gnawing realisation that beside him was the very place she truly wanted to be, too. Seeing him as a good-looking fuck toy? She could do that. Seeing him as anything more? Absolutely not.

“I’m glad you are here.”

That was the last thing he said before he was out like a light. His apartment was cold, the temperature well below zero outside, Taissa turning to throw a leg over his hip and snuggle deep against his chest. Warmth felt good. And that was what she told herself, again and again, her brain in overdrive before she finally fell asleep twenty minutes after him.

Untangling herself seven hours later, Niklas slept on as she left the bedroom, going to make herself a slice of toast and feed Katze. As usual, the small, black feline hissed at her, trundling over to the bowl regardless, though.

“I can’t hide if from you, can I?”

Niklas merely assumed her to be jealous of Taissa and nothing more. One should, though, always pay attention to the reaction of animals. They seldom ever tended to be incorrect. Reading her phone idly while eating her toast, she made herself a coffee, sitting up on the counter, hearing Katze meow in greeting before Niklas walked into the kitchen.

Picking her up, he rubbed her ears, the feline turning to view Taissa with a disgruntled growl. “You have to stop this venom,” he instructed, pointing to where she sat. “That woman there, she takes care of me. Only fucking one I can think of for years who actually has.”

Kissing her soft head, he let her leap to the floor, the cat making her way back to the lounge while he moved to Taissa, enveloping her in a hug. “Thank you for doing just that. You were exactly what I needed, someone to keep completely calm and handle it.”

She wrapped her arms around him, fingers stroking swirls over his wide back, kissing his chest a couple of times. “Remember, meds come with you next time. Maybe lessen your coke intake a little, too? I’ve noticed that sometimes sets you off a bit. Not into hallucinatory meltdown, but you change.”

Lifting his chin, he raised his eyebrows. “Great, I have to lose the number one perk of dating you?”

“I thought the number one perk was because I let you put it up my ass?”

He really enjoyed that about her, that deprecating humour was met with nothing but a whip-quick comeback. “That too.” Releasing her from his arms, his hands moved to stroke her hips, grasping her sweats, giving the side of her ass a pat. “Up.”

Pushing her hands to the counter, she lifted herself, her sweats pulled off, her eyebrow raised curiously. “What are you doing?”

“You know exactly what I’m doing,” he spoke, crouching before her. “I’m hungry.”

That was exactly how he ate her, too, hungrily, fervently and without pause until she was soaked and desperate for his cock. He carried her back to the bedroom for that, lying her on the bed, arrowing into her slick plush with a faint groan, his body falling to cover hers.

His moan was thick and rich as pulled back, sinking into her deeper, mouth closing around her nipple and sucking. The warm clutch of her had constellations exploding behind his closed eyelids, aqueous heaven wrapped around him in a hot grip.

He rained down kisses over her chest, Taissa feeling the pleasure prickling at her like hail. She felt weak and brittle from the weight of him atop her, the power of him driving into where she was most soft and delicate, churning her insides into a glimmering mess. Pleasure streaked through her like a hail of comets, Niklas falling into a rhythm that had her gasping, her soaking centre split so wide around him, bathing him in the gloss of her arousal.

It was a sight that had him utterly transfixed after he’d sat back on his heels, watching her breasts heave, the velvet grasp of her cunt around him utterly divine. She tried to ground herself by gripping the bed covers below her, yet the relentless spearing of her insides had her completely unmoored, adrift on the sea of pleasure that was him, lost, and not willing to be found. Her nails clutched at his shoulders, dragging down, the pain of it sending him deeper into her as his mouth found hers, kissing her with dirty heat.

“Get on your back,” she instructed, watching him raise an eyebrow inquiringly as he slowed his rapacious pace.

“She’s demanding.”

“I am, we both know this. Now, do as you’re told. Just for once.”

His eyebrow only rose higher, and they both laughed softly, something slipping out of place with them. Or was it into place, Niklas stroking her cheeks with his thumbs as he gazed upon her before turning. “Fine.”

Moving astride his hips, she guided him to her heat, enveloping him, anything else he might have chosen to say washed away from his brain, groaning faintly as he shuddered. She clenched around him until she drew expletives from him, the rhythm she set slow and rolling, his fingers digging into her. His cock dragged her walls sumptuously, Taissa teasing his chest with the stroke of her nails, grinding down a little heavier upon him, desperate for more pressure.

“Fuck, best cock in the motherfucking world.” She breathed, leaning to him, capturing his lips in a hot, syrupy kiss, his fingers digging in harder, a sharp snap of his hips deepening their join, her moan tumbling from her mouth to his. Pushing herself back up, she studied him carefully, watched him losing himself to her.

Each keen undulation caused him to feel sparks flickering his spine, while she had her own bliss pulsing softly, increasing more the faster she moved. He pushed his thumb to her clit and rubbed, her slick little bud twitching at his touch. A string of panted expletives left her mouth as she felt herself reach boiling point, bubbling up and over and taking him with him to a gloriously sweet climatic finish, intensity throbbing through them and leaving them both a sweaty, shuddering wreck.

Looking up at her, he couldn’t explain it, nor did he want to realise it, why on that morning, there was a tenderness, a gentleness there that hadn’t ever existed between them before. Taissa saw it, too, felt it winding through her, noticed the way the usual ice of his stare had melted just a touch. Enough to let that rarely seen warmth beam right into her, his arms encircling her as she lay against his chest.

They couldn’t have hated themselves more for it, either.

This? This was not in their respective plans.

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

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