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My spine jerks when his rough, deep voice echoes in the air. “I know you’re hiding. Come out and I promise not to hurt you. Much.”
Or Jeremy Volkov. Please don’t let it be Jeremy.
oh it’s definitely jeremy
“Fuck me first,” I whisper, my voice so low that I barely hear it. His entire being pauses, like when I slapped his hand earlier. “Fuck you first?” he repeats slowly, almost as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue. I nod. He releases my hair, hand snaking down to the pulse point in my throat, leaving shivers in its wake before he cups a breast through my shirt. His touch is savage, almost punishing as he digs his fingers into the skin. “Why?” It takes everything in me to remain collected despite the throbbing and the dull ache in the sensitive flesh of my breast. “I don’t want to die a
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Nikolai flings both his arms wide like the crazy motherfucker he is. Sometimes, it’s like he has a death wish. Wishes, to be more specific.
I had to gradually back off from Glyndon since Killian is sort of obsessed with her.
But it’s not my sister I’m looking at. It’s the annoying person. Cecily Knight.
“the annoying person”😭
That dull, maybe not so dull, person has gotten herself the worst type of attention. Mine.
“Don’t I know it?” He shakes his head as if expelling an unpleasant thought. “Tell me all about school. Is everything okay? Is anyone bothering you? Do you have a boyfriend, and does he know that if he
touches you, his parents will lose a son? Or maybe it’s a girlfriend, who still shouldn’t touch you unless her parents are ready to lose a daughter?”
“What? I need to cover all the bases. You haven’t dated any guys since secondary school, so I thought maybe you’d realized you play for a different team. But you would’ve told me, right? You know I would support you no matter what, right?”
HELP ME being single so long you’re facing lesbian allegations is crazy 😭
love a supportive king tho
“Does that mean you’ll be more lenient if I introduce you to a girl?” “No, but I wouldn’t, say, hit her or anything.” “You shouldn’t hit a guy either.” “Of course I would. Boys are little wankers.” I shake my head. “I’m straight, Papa. Annoyingly so.”
Kimberly Knight is the most beautiful woman I know, with her lithe figure, her bright smile, and the green highlights in her brown hair. Even the cut marks on her wrists give her a different type of unconventional beauty. I heard that she refused to erase those cut marks with surgery, because she was never ashamed of them.
But sometimes, during gray days, she wears long sleeves and tugs them down to cover her wrists so no one sees them.
For instance, the discreet shadow from now is nothing more than a twisted and cruel homage to that night. I know it’s Jeremy.
I flinch when his hand shoots out at my face, but he doesn’t grab me. He yanks out my earbuds. The loud music still reaches me even as he engulfs them in his big hand with veins extending from the back of it to his long fingers. “Why the fuck—” he cuts himself off, then starts again with a more collected tone. “Who listens to loud music while they’re walking alone at night?”
I pause. Damn it. Damn it. It was an unspoken rule to not admit I was aware he was stalking me, but I went ahead and divulged that I knew all along. I expect anger, maybe a lash of his freezing coldness, but a slight smirk lifts his lips. “Like a creep, huh?” “I didn’t mean…” “You didn’t mean what? The creep part?” “I’m… I’m going home.” “No, you’re not.” He clutches my elbow. “Since I’m already a creep, might as well act on it.”
“If you want to touch me, all you have to do is ask. There’s no need to play hard to get for it.”
He straddles his bike and revs the engine. I’m pretty sure he sees me flinching at the loud sound, and unless I’m imagining it, there’s a twitch of his lips, too.
“Don’t even think about it.” My wide eyes land on Jeremy, who’s casually sitting on his bike and watching my every move. “How do you know what I’m thinking about?” “You’re a lot more obvious than you realize.” He strokes his index finger on the clutch, back and forth, as if he’s performing some sort of ritual. “If you want to run, go for it. But you should know that I’ll chase you, and I can’t guarantee what I’ll do to you the moment I catch you, so if that’s an option you’re willing to gamble on, by all means, go ahead and run. If not, I suggest you hop on, peacefully.”
Before I can respond, his bigger hand envelops mine and then plants my palm on his lower abs. My arm is all wrapped around his hard, sculpted waist and my fingers tremble slightly over his jacket. “Hold on.”
cloud strife ahh man
I’m on the verge of a panic attack and he just navigates the streets as if they’re his kingdom. It doesn’t help that my body is all glued to his. The pressure of the wind forbids me from putting any distance between us. Every time I try to pull away, I’m flung forward harder so that my breasts are crushed against his back. I think he goes faster on purpose whenever I do that, so I stop trying. Either that or the crazy psycho will land us in an accident. My attempts to alternate between breathing through my nose and mouth are futile, too. It’s just not possible when my whole body is under
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“Somewhere to eat.”
eat what🤨
the satisfaction. “Where are your annoying, self-righteous retorts?” He continues to swirl the contents of his glass. “Cat got your tongue?” “More like an unwanted existence has rendered me speechless.” “Careful there. Just because I’m being tolerant doesn’t mean you should test the limits.” “And what are those?” “Sure you want to know?
“Now, answer my earlier question. Why are gagging and drugging limits?” I purse my lips. “We can do this the amicable way or I can torture the answer out of you. I don’t have to say which option I’d like to try out more, do I?” This sick bastard. This bloody sick bastard. “I had a bad experience with them,” I say so softly, I think he doesn’t hear me. “What type of experience?” I glare at him. “The type I don’t want to talk about.”
just ate on the floor. Just like I did two years ago. Just like back then, I can hear his voice over the ringing in my ears. “You’re disgusting.”
But I didn’t think she’d vomit and dissociate at the view. If it were anyone else, I’d completely ignore her and get on with my day. I have zero interest in people. Especially shady ones who might or might not be getting in the way of my plans. But something stops me.
The stiffness in her limbs, the frozen state of her face. The bulging of her eyes that nearly pop out of their sockets. I grab her by the shoulder and shake her, gently at first, but when that doesn’t work, I use more force. Nothing. Her gaze remains glued to Landon’s erotic show that he offers to anyone willing to watch. Motherfucker. I tug her with me, but I might as well be moving a stone. One that’s planted in place and refuses to move. So I physically drag her behind me. But no matter what I do, her attention remains glued to the fucker.
undivided attention. I fall on the chair and pull on her arm so that she sits on my lap. Her muscles don’t unlock, remaining as stiff as granite, and she’s barely sitting. Her hands are glued to her thighs as if they’re an extension of them.
So it’s not like she didn’t hear me just now. It’s that she can’t.
Then I tap her on the cheek once. Her pale skin immediately reddens at the impact, and I didn’t even put force behind it. Still no response. My hand splays out on her skin, on the redness that spreads all over her cheek and neck. Then I stroke it, sliding my fingers over the tiny freckles beneath her eyes. “Cecily, can you hear me?” No reply. I rummage through her bag and retrieve her packet of sugar-free mint gum. I’ve often seen her crunch on these, even during her zoning-out states. The moment I place two pieces at her lips, she gobbles them inside and chews them. Maybe it’s a sense of
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I take a sip of the alcohol and then use that opening to seal my lips to hers and pour it in her mouth. She shudders in my hold, so I do it again; this time, my lips linger on her full, velvety ones longer than need be.
ahahajsjjs
But I force myself to focus on her reaction, on how she lets me kiss her, on how her lips turn pliant beneath mine. The stiffness in her body slowly subsides. Her muscles loosen, slowly but surely molding into mine.
“I…I thought this was a dream.” She avoids my eyes, stares at the ground, and rubs the side of her nose. My lips curve, but my voice comes out husky. “Do you often dream about kissing and dry humping me, Lisichka?”
“Because you had the audacity to capture my attention.” “Can I un-capture it?” “That’s not even a word. And the answer is no. You
“Just…different.” Careful apprehension coats her tone. No attempts to soften it or hide a lie. “You just saw him fucking another girl and you still think he’s different?” “I knew about that.” She lifts a shoulder. “I know a lot of things about him, and his darkness. I know his preferred methods to purge and his twisted relationship with art and his family. I don’t like him because I have rosy misconceptions about him. I like him because he’s different.” Different. Again.
one last glare in her direction, I stand up. “We’re leaving.” She wants different? I’ll show her what different actually means.
anything. His profile picture is a black-and-white side shot of him on his bike, wearing a leather jacket. From this angle, his hair
oh period
flopped by the wind, his square jaw appears ready to cut someone in half. In most of the pictures, he’s on the bike, with Nikolai, who’s usually half naked on his own bike, or with the other guys. There are no family pictures. Not even any with Annika.
My favorite picture of them is one she posted a few weeks back. It’s from when she was young, maybe about four years old while Jeremy is no older than ten. She was laughing through her tears while he wiped them. Her caption was even more heartwarming. Do I have the best brother ever? Yes, yes, I totally do. Thank you for being my anchor, Jer *purple hearts*
💜💜
cecily-knight I’m about to scroll some more, but
oh she’s cooked for that
“I’m going to kill you,” I tell him, then glare at Ava. “And you just lost bestie privileges.” “No, Cecy.” She hugs me tighter. “Don’t leave me. And shut up, Rems, seriously. Leave her alone. We need a prude in our ranks like we need a manwhore, aka you.” Remi laughs. “Joke’s on you because that’s a compliment!” “Was that supposed to make me feel better?” I ask Ava while wearing my poker face. She merely grins and hugs me again. “You can die celibate and we’ll still love you.”
lmao
“You can just un-coward yourself.” He waggles his brows. “I can help.” I grab him by the face, watching him intently before I tut. “Not the right one.” “Hey, what the actual fuck? I’m always the right one. It’s on my birth certificate right next to the aristocratic title.”
lmao
matches my tone. “And who is he?” “The devil,” I say in a hoarse voice, then gasp. “He disappeared and I hate it.” “Is this about Lan?” She frowns. “He’s seriously bad news, Cecy. I thought you were over him by now.” “Are you over Eli?” She purses her lips. “In this house, we don’t speak of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.”
“I wish it were about Lan. The devil you know is better, right?” “What the fuck type of drug did you inhale today?” “Devilish?”
chase atlantic reference?😼
I want to be chased and ambushed. In the dark. Where you can use me and no one knows.
GIRL NO WHY
They clash with gray ones. The devil’s eyes. Who’s watching my every move from the corner.
“Kiss me,” I whisper in a desperate attempt to distract him. He pauses, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was caught off guard. “Why?” “Please kiss me.” I try to lift my head, but his grip on my jaw forbids it. “You want to kiss a monster?” “I never said I was normal.” “You’re so fucking annoying.” “Still, you’re here.” “That I am.” “Kiss me, then, Jeremy. Just—” My words are cut off when his lips slam against mine. They’re violent and absolutely claiming.
He kisses me like he already owns me, has the deed to prove it, and is marking me for the world to see. It’s much more animalistic than the kiss at that club. That one was consuming but slow and passionate. Safe. It felt safe back then, which is why I asked him to kiss me now. It was an attempt to recreate that atmosphere, but this one is by no means like that time.
Instead, I take time to look around her room, the walls covered in manga pages like some edgy teenager.
me?
move closer and study the names at the top of each, committing them to memory so that I can research what she likes to read.
awww wtf💜
