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I often wonder about my last moments.
i think about it a disturbing amount for such a sunshiney person <.<
I used to work mainly on my own. But these two dipshits have become like the extended family I didn’t ask for. And they’re exactly as you’d expect of Irish twins. Reggie is the serious one, and Rowan, the batshit crazy one.
I shoot him a look, warning him not to touch me. It makes my skin fucking burn. Only my brothers can get away with it, but only just barely.
i am so scared to learn his trauma. i know little Finn getting hurt is going to wreck me T_T
Swiping the card, the door clicks and I push it open, heading straight for the elevator. We squeeze inside. All three of us are bulky and over 6’3”. “Well, this is cozy,” Rowan chuckles. “I heard you two sleep in the same fuckin’ bed still?” I tease, arching a brow. Reggie sighs. “Jesus fucking Christ. We don’t fuck each other, that would be disgusting. We simply fuck the same woman. Our dicks do not touch,” Reggie clarifies.
“Great. Thanks for clarifying. So you prefer the Eiffel Tower situation?” They both shrug. “Lots of different positions we can use,” Reggie tells me, deadpan.
“Who has the bigger dick?” I bite back a grin. I know this whole sharing thing is a joke between us all and that it riles them up, particularly our grumpy Reggie. “Me,” they say in unison. “I know for a fact, identical twins doesn’t always mean dick size. I’m a doctor, remember?” Rowan rolls his eyes. That makes me clench my fists. “Fine. Reggie has a bigger dick, lengthwise. Only just. Mine is girthier. And pierced.” My own cock shrivels up. Ouch. I have a freakishly high pain threshold, but that doesn’t extend to my cock.
They enter these women thinking it gives them a chance to become part of the elite in the mafia world. Little do they realize, all it does is send me into their homes in the middle of the night to kill them. Poetic in a way. They do get a new life, just in hell.
I know what this feels like, being so vulnerable at the hands of someone more powerful than you and not being able to do a single thing about it.
UGH 😩 I hate it already 😭😭😭
I work quickly, pressing the fentanyl patch to his skin, letting the overdose soak in. Insurance for the coroner’s report. And for good measure, I give him matching slices across his wrists, leaving the blade in his limp hand.
Oh that’s good <.<
They’re sickeningly sweet. Both of my brothers are married, trying to be softer versions of themselves. They’ve found peace in places I can’t even look too long without flinching.
I’m still the jagged piece that doesn’t fit the family frame. Watching love from the outside, pretending like I don’t want it, like it wouldn’t burn straight through me if I ever tried to hold it.
I pull out my headphones and bring up my audiobook. Can’t beat a bit of alien smut being read to me by a delicious man in my ears.
unless I can prove myself to him, I doubt I’ll get to see his scars. Because no one will ever see mine either.
“I’ll jot it in my own notepad. Dr. Quinn touched me,” I tease. His eyes burn into mine, and my breath hitches. “I would never touch a woman without her consent. Not like that. Never.” His voice holds fury, but his face is expressionless. Still, any light behind his eyes dies right then.
“Don’t forget to take your butt plug out before bed.” I ignite like a furnace. Of all the things my boss could have caught me saying out loud, this one will go down as one of the most embarrassing.
My brothers aren’t bad. They’re not villains. I, however, have always been the one called to do the shit no one else can. I’m numb from it. After having your humanity stripped from you at ten... After witnessing what I did. A child used for the gratification of adults. I can’t say I possess the same humanity Declan and Conan do. They have good hearts. Mom always said so. Mine got cut out, stomped on, and buried with my abusers. The real Finn Quinn died twenty-five years ago. What’s left is the shell.
My snake. I call her Raven. Beautiful and deadly. Just like how I feel tonight. The tattoo represents power. How something smaller than you can still kill you.
Ah. There it is. Asshole. Sometimes I wonder why I’m still into men. I guess it must be their dicks. Because I’ve yet to see what else they’ve got going for them.
“I’m not missing out on monster dick if the opportunity arises.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “You already are.” He winks and turns down the corridor. Of course Mr. Perfect has a huge dick. Even that’s annoying. He just has to be the full package.
Drinking with my boss is probably not my smartest move. But if it gives me a win? I’m all in. And what’s worse is I’m thinking about the size of his cock now.
She thinks her words hurt me. They never could. Because I’ve felt pain most couldn’t bear, let alone live with.
He helps me out of the booth, and I smile. An actual real smile at Dr. Quinn.
I’m drunk. But I’m not sure if it’s from the tequila or her. “I know,” I murmur. “But right now, you’re wasted enough to forget why.” She pulls back and starts spinning like an idiot, dragging me with her. We’re a mess. Laughing, stumbling, and colliding on the dance floor, but something in the chaos feels good. Like breathing. Like not just surviving for once. Just living. And for the first time since I was ten years old, I let myself do exactly that. Even if it’s only for a single song.
Can I really make this woman hate me? Is that even what I want? I’m not sure anymore. Because when she kissed me—drunk or not— My entire world fucking stopped. When the video hits the moment our mouths collide, I pause it and take a screenshot. A keepsake. Stephanie Quinn is mine.
Her touch burns through my skin. And she’s the first woman that I haven’t wanted to sever from me. No. With her, I want to sew her into my fucking skin and never let her go.
I look down at my hand and wonder, what would it be like to have a life with someone? A husband. A home. Maybe even… kids. Jesus. I’ve never let myself think that far ahead. There was never a finish line for me. Just survival.
I’m not wife material. I’m not even human some days.
I wanted him. I wanted him to finish what he started. I wanted his mouth on my skin, his body breaking me open. Not just physically. Emotionally. Completely. And that’s the part that scares me most. Because I don’t just want the sex. I want him. The man who sees all my ugly and doesn’t run. Even when I tell him to fuck off. The one who could destroy me with a single word, but instead, whispers “wife” like it’s holy.
“Are you going to ask the name of my snake? It’s rude to be so uninterested, Troy.” He shakes his head and I roll my eyes. “Meet Julius Squeezer,” I say with a grin. He’s shaking, and I can’t help but laugh as I approach him. “Not even going to laugh at my jokes? This is disappointing on so many levels.”
damnit. he might not have laughed but i just did. out. loud. >.<
I begin to write. The how. The when. And most importantly, the why. Because someone has to protect the women in this world. And if the system won’t do it… I fucking will.
A bottle to the jaw of a man who’s stupid enough to lunge without backup. The crack echoes like a gunshot. Blood splatters across the bar. And then it begins. The room fractures into violence.
there's a scene exactly like this in Green Street Hooligans
“There is a reason I need pain in my life, Stephanie,” I tell her. The most honest I’ve ever been with anyone since it happened. I know it’s not much. It’s not a revelation. But for me, it is. It’s like she understands the weight of it as she continues to trace them. “I understand.” My heart stops. “I really, really fucking hope you don’t,” I tell her. She gives me a sad smile. “I guess we will figure that one out.” If someone has hurt her, I will hunt them down, each and every one, and slit their throats as they sleep. I stroke her hair away from her face and press my nose against hers, and
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“Because somehow, I wanted to show you how serious I am about this marriage. That it isn’t a game. That you fuckin’ own me, love. There’s only one way you’re getting your last name back, and that’s by becoming a widow.”
Looking at her like you’re about to drop to your knees for her.” Conan barks a laugh. “Why’d you say that like it’s a bad thing? Fuck, I get on my knees for Hallie most nights if she calls me a good boy.” I nearly choke on my drink. “Good boy? Like a dog?” Conan glares. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it. Letting her take control is hot as fuck.” I hold up a hand. “Don’t. I don’t want that mental image burned into my brain.” He rolls his eyes.
I’m too busy to date.”
FAMOUS LAST WORDS SWEET CHEEKS! But will it be one of the twins or Drago.... hmmmm...... <.<
“You holding Liam is doing things to me it really shouldn’t,” he murmurs. My cheeks flush. “Oh yeah?” He drags his lips across my cheek. “I think it’s time I showed you another kink of mine that I’ve just suddenly decided I have.” I swallow hard, my thighs pressing together. “Now?”
Daddy Finn. Hot. As. Fuck.
I can’t stop watching him fuss over his nephew. And that smile—it’s the realest I’ve ever seen. Pure happiness.
“You really want to stay married to me?” I ask softly. I’ve pushed him away so hard because deep down, I was terrified. Terrified of caring enough that he could leave me. “Yeah, I really fucking do, Mrs. Quinn. I rather like you.” A smile spreads across my lips. “Love and hate can walk the same line, I suppose.” “There was never any hate, was there?” he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine. I shake my head. “Annoyance and jealousy, maybe.” “Admitting it is the first step.” “Are you going to show me this new kink or…?” “New?” His brow arches. I narrow my eyes. “You better not be doing that
...more
it might be more efficient to just highlight the whole book now and UNhighlight things that DON'T give me all the feels. not sure anything would get removed though. >.<
“Things you do to survive aren’t mistakes. Our pasts make us. They can ruin us if we let them.”
“I’d like to make love to my wife,” I say. And to my own surprise, the words don’t make me sick. Her eyes light up. I glance at my glistening fingers and bring them to my mouth, licking them clean. “My dessert.” Her blush deepens. “You’re cruel,” she whispers. “Only because I want to watch you squirm until we get home. Then, Mrs. Quinn, you’ll learn what cruel really means.” “So my place?” She grins, finishing the last bites. I nod. “I’d love to see your lair.”
“Nothing special.” I shrug. It’s not that I don’t have the money, because I do. I just don’t want a lavish lifestyle. I work long enough hours to kill me. This is simply a place to sleep. It’s not a home. I’ve never truly had one of those. He tips my chin up to him. “You simply have no idea, do you?” he whispers. My body tingles against his touch. “About what?” I ask, my voice breaking as I suck in a breath. “There isn’t a single soul more special than yours, temptress.”
fuck offffff i love this man! T_T
“You’re doing a perfect job, love. You were made for me.”
praise kink go brrrrrrr <.<
Everything messes with my hormones too much and sends me crazy every month. Nothing ever worked. And it’s not as if I make a habit of having sex.
I’ve handed her parts of myself tonight I never meant to. Parts I keep locked in the dark, and here she is, doing the same. This isn’t just sex. This is a ritual. A binding.
This is more than a rivalry. More than a wedding gone wrong. This is about the man who pushed me to be better. Who studied me to know me better than I know myself. Who listened to me. Who showed me who I really am. And gave me things I never knew I needed. He never gave up on me, and I won’t ever do that to him.
But by holding onto it, letting it live in your brain, you’re letting that memory win. You’re giving it power that it doesn’t deserve from you.“
stored shame/trauma poisons everything
You wanted me, you’ve got me, now you can’t leave me.”
hehehe the circle is small, but if i let you in it, you are stuck with me loser. <.<
She turns to face me, wrapping her arms around me and snuggling closer. While I just lie here. Calculating my next move. All whilst being fucking dead inside.
noooooooo this is so much worse than a miscommunication trope! i could cry T_T damnit Luna! i knew there was too much book left for things to be working out this perfectly. where's my glaring chicken emote when i need it.
This is killing him too. He releases my hand and storms to the door, not even a glance back, and slams it shut behind him. Leaving me standing here, tears streaming down my face as my heart cracks in two. I’ve hurt the only man who made me feel. The only man I’ve ever loved.
