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 Unconditional

Discussion in 'Roleplay Execution' started by Iniquity, Jul 13, 2018.

  1. Iniquity

    Iniquity You can't tame me. Moderator

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    "Miss Beckett, your car is waiting outside." A familiar voice called into a rather spacious, white office. The female behind it sighed softly as she toyed with a fountain pen, her delicate fingers spun it in circles before dropping it down on the paper pad before her. Isabelle had been working relentlessly; and it showed. From the moment she'd been able, she'd been edging her way into PR. Her first step had been working as a receptionist on her days off during school; that PR firm helped her steady herself and climb into the world she had grown to enjoy. It didn't take long after that for her to start off on her own, with a book full of clients and a give 'em hell attitude. Isabelle was also unlike most of her colleagues, she was British. The female had moved over to continue her studies in the USA. So far, she'd been a major hit, and it was only getting better.

    The woman eventually grabbed her handbag, dressed in stilettos and a loose fitted button up navy shirt, it hung and concealed her hourglass figure to some degree. It was professional. The pencil skirt she wore, curved around her behind and flared out slightly along her thighs, thanks to the minor slit in the back. The young woman had finally come into her own; she was a force to be reckoned with. She worked out daily, she achieved more than she had to at work, and she had independence most people would die for. Money meant she was able to do pretty much everything she wanted, for now. Isabelle was good with money, most of it was stored away and the rest was paying off her apartment in the city. And yet.. she still wasn't happy, not really.

    The blonde made her way down the fairly narrow staircase with her suitcase in tow. She didn't have much time to work, but she'd made the few calls and emails that she intended. That day, she was flying off to meet a potential client in another state. He had offered her a great deal of money to oversee a project he was planning to launch. Her company would handle all the PR, and if they did well, she could earn a permanent client. It would be... one of her milestones. Not to mention that she was going to be able to see another state, another town. It was going to be something special, she was determined to make it a trip to remember. It wasn't often that she got to travel, so she was determined to embrace it.

    The meeting was set for a day after she arrived, that gave her time to enjoy a drink and a meal alone before work came calling. By the time she landed, that choice had certainly spun around her head, maybe she should've had more days off; hell, she needed a vacation. Isabelle loved her work, but it was tiresome to be so switched on all the time. The woman missed the days where she'd go for a picnic with friends, then have the rest of the day filled with pyjamas and giggles until they cracked open beers in front of some old movies. Much had changed since her university days.

    Some hours later, the female had landed and had found a rather nice bar close to her hotel. It seemed to be thriving, even if it was somewhat dark and filled with an older wood smell. It was rustic, she'd give it that. It was certainly a place she could kick back and relax. Almost as soon as she entered, she ordered herself a beer and settled rather comfortably at the bar. A game of some type was on, not that she was bothered. Isabelle didn't really like sports, not unless it got interesting with fouls.

    After some time of drinking and picking at some bar snacks, a man settled in next to her. He seemed rather nice, maybe too much on the meterosexual side for her tastes. Slicked black hair and dark eyes, paired with a well tailored suit seemed to hint he was far more used to working in the city than he was trying out their bars. When he gazed over to her, he noticed the similarities they had.

    "Hey, can I get you a drink?"

    Isabelle almost burst out laughing, fortunately she suppressed it. "I'm still working on this one," She nodded toward the half empty glass of beer in front of her.

    "Right, of course. But when you're finished?"

    Isabelle was no stranger to attention, and that attention wasn't the kind she enjoyed.

    "No thanks--" As she was about to finish her sentence, something drew her attention to the kitchen. The narrow hallway that was in the corner of the left hand side of the establishment seemed to lead to a busy kitchen pumping out pub food; it was only when her gaze lingered more that she saw someone that almost made her slip right off of her chair. And it wasn't the four beers she'd had.

    There was a moment of pure shock. Her whole body tensed into a fight or flight response that didn't fully develop. Was it... It couldn't be. No.

    Isabelle slipped from the stool, her gaze locked onto the male. The man looked just like him... and it made her heart jump. Her stomach was already down into the floor, even her breathing was somewhat hindered. The man who settled beside her attempted to see if she was okay, but she simply shoved down a few notes onto the bar before she grabbed her purse and started to head for the kitchen. Her long blonde loose curls trickled down her back as she strode with a fierce confidence. Who the fuck did he think he was?

    It was mind blowing to think that he could be right there, he could be within her reach. All of the pain she'd felt when he had disappeared seemed to rise back up. It had taken her a year of searching to finally give up; but he'd never left her mind, not really. The dreams of finding his body, or somehow him returning to her had plagued her nights more than she'd care to remember.

    By the time she entered the kitchen, he was gone. The female didn't hesitate, even as she heard voices reprimanding her. "HEY, lady! You can't be back here!" Isabelle was long gone, already stepping out the back door and managing to keep a swift pace in rather long, thin heels, the straps around her ankles certainly helped as she broke into a rather tipsy trot. Her usual feminine sway was off, she was now almost waddling.

    "Hey!" She called out, her impatience was showing. It just had to be him... It had to be. The female's heart leapt in her chest as she recalled countless memories of him, the way he'd hurl her onto the bed, the way she'd wake up pressed against him... And all the time she truly felt he was still out there, had he really been out and around like it meant nothing to him to leave?

    "Finn!" The female called out, her voice as determined as it was furious. She stood almost dishevelled, tears threatening to sting in her eyes. It seemed the name was enough to cause him to halt, causing an ache in her heart. A soft whimper escaped her lips as she clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound that threatened to come out. Isabelle had never felt so confused. It felt as if the very ground beneath her had begun to crumble. In her heart, she knew it was him before she'd even followed him out.

    "Finn." Her voice was almost a plea for him to at least show himself to her, so she could see it was really him. "I... I looked for you everywhere. I know it's you," The blonde found herself easing into a nearby wall, it felt like her world was spinning. "You just left, you left me..." The female felt her lower lip quiver before she pushed back off the wall, her heels clicking as she strode closer toward him. For a tipsy, emotionally unstable woman, she was quick. The female strode in front of him, glancing up at the very man she had been falling for. Her large, oceanic blue orbs glistened up at him under the streetlights as tears stung in her eyes. "That's great, Finn. Really... fucking great." The blonde found herself feeling a bit more tipsy than she had been, all it did was loosen her emotions and give her some uneven footing.

    The blonde kicked off her heels before scooping them up, giving the man one last glance. "You could have at least said goodbye. I deserved that much," The female started to walk into the street before she paused, turning back on her heel. "I deserved better than checking in with hospitals and the police every week for a year... And... It wasn't even the best sex that I've had." It was a lie, but she wanted to hurt him the way he'd hurt her. With that, she turned and walked right into the man who'd been with her at the bar. "You okay?" He glanced from her to Finn. "I... I'm fine, now if you don't mind," The blonde tried to side step, but he seemed adamant on 'helping' her, keeping a hand curled around her upper arm. "Let go of my arm, right now." The female hissed softly, "I don't know you, and you're coming on far too strong. Go fuck some cheap whore, I'm not your girl."
     
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  2. NobleSavage

    NobleSavage Sir Spikerton Community Helpers

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    "Have you changed your mind yet, Finn?"

    Titus Larouche. The ruthless owner of the Maimed Maw Pub, and Alpha of the localized Bloodskins Pack. He was aged, from the wrinkles on his face and the crow's feet that raked from the corners of his eyes. The laugh lines that was more assumed to have been deepened by the scowl he sported more times than not. Built sturdy like a brick house, and just as wide. His steps creaked the old, weathered wood floors as he stalked over them. Rigid in it's predatory restlessness. A head graced with groomed locks of salt and pepper hair turned toward the scoundrel sitting in the beaten wooden chair.

    Dressed in a pair of black jeans torn at the knees from no seeking of style and simply acquired through use and work; he wore a simple black soft cotton v-neck shirt that contrasted with the white gold necklace chain that held a sizable white gold shark tooth, engraved with Celtic runes. The necklace he'd worn as long as he could remember, given to him by his father, once with a silver chain that he'd had to retire for white gold instead. Covering naturally tanned arms chiseled with refined muscle and decorated sporadically with ink, was the trench coat he sported. The empty sheath at his hip, from the blade Titus had requested he remove, it's soulmate was resting on the man's desk and kept away from threat. Finn was the foolhardy animal to carry a blade just as lethal to him as his kin. Every so often, eyes the color of underbrush in a damp forest would tick towards it. He felt naked without it, his loyal companion over the past few years. They'd leave the blade, only to look up to the man who'd called the meeting, the mottled scars of Titus' throat that described and explained the name of the pub. Remnants and reminders of his struggle to make it to the top, he'd said when asked. It only proved just how dangerous the owner was.

    Finn's nostrils flared with the exhale of breath that shook his chest, exasperated and tired. "No, Titus," he a gruff, deep voice broke his silence. Fingers sporting a lone ring of a titanium wolf, gaudy in it's appearance but it had caught his eye at a local shop. "I've told you time and time again, I will not join you."

    "Nomads don't survive for long, you know this." Titus' grey-blue eyes, the threat of storms brewing before the thunder crashes and lightning strikes, they flicked to the man sitting in his office. "There's strength in numbers. How long will you last out there on your own? I've granted you safe haven here. You're strong, you have potential. You're kin, Fi--"

    "I said," the stern, stubborn and partial growl of his tone came with a harsh stare. "No. Listen," he sighed. "I appreciate you granting me a pardon to remain in your city, Titus. You've been more than generous to do so... But I don't need your pack. I don't need your protection. I've made it just fine on my own so far, and I don't make commitments I'm not willing to keep," he murmured, casting his eyes to the side, a tension set in a rugged and bearded jaw.

    "Right," Titus sighed, rounding his desk to collapse into the worn and torn leather chair in a deep maroon shade. It creaked under his weight as he scooted it closer to his desk. "I could banish you, but I won't," he murmured. "You're free to stay, Loner. But I request you continue to reconsider my offer. It's more than generous and my patience only stretches so far... for so long." His heavy gaze fixed on the long haired gentleman across from him, his evergreen gaze that was earthy compared to his threatening horizons.

    Finn watched the dangerous man across his way, but chose not to deny him like a broken record. "I will continue to consider it, Titus. But I wouldn't hold my breath," he muttered gruffly, his hands fixing to the wooden armrests of his chair before he pushed himself to his feet. He was tall, but not overly so at an even 6 feet. Reaching forward, he was careful as he grasped the hilt of his blade to return it to it's sheath when he moved the flap of his jacket out of the way. "Enjoy your night, Titus. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again," he snickered, settling the thick fabric of his jacket in place before he turned toward the door.

    "Of course. I'm a persistent son of a bitch," the old beast smirked from his desk.

    "I've noticed. Say hello to your mother for me," Finn jested, opening the door. He could hear the barking laughter from Titus until it was snuffed out by the closed door. Closing his eyes, he swiped his hands over his face as he started down the hall to leave. He only reached the opening, where the hall bled into the main room for the patrons. His steps halted immediately, his body rigid with tense muscle and bristling shoulders. His eyes had opened as they locked onto the blonde at the bar that dropped his heart down to his feet, that knocked the wind from him and almost made him choke on the exhale. Of course, she was as breathtaking as ever, but it wasn't what made his lungs burn with his inability to breathe.

    It was the blast from his past to backhand him across the face. His darkest shame manifested and all too real sitting no more than 5 yards across the way. Logic and reason had him quickly turning around, twisting on the heels of his weathered boots in a desperate attempt to leave before she saw him. Oceans of unfinished business surfaced like tidal waves in his mind and stomach, making him sick with what he'd done. And here he was, trying to leave without a word all over again. His hands shot out to push against the kitchen door, pushing through. The heads of cooks and the dishwasher turned to speak up, but they stopped with the flair of their nostrils. The kinship granted him passage, if not Titus' orders. He wasn't spoken to, or stopped as he made his way for the back exit through the kitchen.

    He only managed to slip out before he heard the calls of the cooks he'd just passed call out to another, and he cursed the heavens and hell alike as he hooked a right to start down the grungy alley, past the dumpster by the door that harbored unpleasant scents and old tossed out food from the kitchen. He only made it midway down the alley when he heard the call from an all too familiar voice, his breath raked like nails in his lungs to his ragged breath, catching in his throat. He pushed on, pretending he hadn't heard her, pretended he wasn't the one she knew, wasn't the one who'd betrayed her, wasn't the one she wanted.

    It was the call of his name that made his steps falter, the hesitation that gave him away. His eyes rolled closed as rigid muscle settled beneath his jacket, and the uprooted step was lowered. Stilled, stopped. It was less the name she called him with, but the plea in her voice that sent a sharp pain in his rib cage. "You shouldn't be here, Izzy," his rumbling baritone was soft, hardly a whisper that he doubted she'd hear... or even listen to if she had. He knew her far too well, and had no idea just how much she'd changed since he'd left. He winced hearing her words that lashed across his back still turned to her, like the whips and chains binding him, gluing him in place. He could hear her approaching him before she came around to face him, and his eyes averted from her. Unable to look her in the eye, and there was no question of who he was.

    His hair was longer, more grown out and a wild mane than it'd been before. His beard had never changed, and likely never would. It was unsettling how quiet he was, without his jokes and sarcasm to back him on this one. He had no defense for what he'd done, and he let her words sting him, hit him, grind his bones to dust hearing about what she'd done after he disappeared on her. His eyes closed with a sigh that flared his nostrils. She had deserved more than a silent goodbye, she'd deserved more than being ghosted, but he hadn't a clue of where to explain or start. He couldn't bring himself to come up with some half-assed story, or turn her against him, make her hate him to make his leave easier. He'd considered it, being cruel and harsh to get her to leave one night. To start a fight, and make her hate him so he could disappear, ensure she wouldn't give a damn that he was gone... but he couldn't hurt her. Physically, or verbally. Instead, he'd hurt her worse by simply disappearing. Causing her to worry and fret over him, for a year after he'd gone. His jaw ticked and his eyes opened with a hike of brow when she hit him with the low blow, and he snorted. "I guess I deserved that," he murmured.

    He let her get it out, say her peace. He released his breath when she started away from him, intent to walk away from their encounter. His head turned to glance down the opposite end of the alley, to the other street. He supposed he could take the long way home if it meant escaping this situation. It was the sound of the man's voice and Izzy's retort that had his head snapping back to face her. He saw the way the man had grabbed her arm, his insistence that was a little too friendly for comfort. There was only a moment of ticking brows, surprise, to the brazen retort from the blonde that seemed... rather forward, even for her. His jaw tensed, a rumble grating through his chest like boulders colliding as his heavy steps started in their direction. His eyes were fixed, intent, and intense on the man's face as his own hand snapped out to grasp his forearm, his grip a steel vice clamped right and worthy of bruising.. if not more. "I think she's made her point," he spoke evenly, calmly. But it was the kind of calm, the still air before a tornado came to sweep the neighborhood away. "I'd suggest you take the hint and walk away before I escort you to the hospital with a broken arm." There was no hint in his tone or expression that said it was an empty threat, but an all too real one. And the silent threat of or worse lingering in the air between the two men.
     
    Last edited: Aug 6, 2018
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  3. Iniquity

    Iniquity You can't tame me. Moderator

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    Isabelle was considering delivering a firm knee to the asshole that thought he was needed in that situation. The thought of someone even thinking that Finn would hurt her pissed the woman off beyond belief. Before she could deal with him, she could almost feel the power drawing toward them. As Finn gripped the male's arm, she could see the visible pain wince across his slick, almost reptilian features before the male drew back, suddenly releasing her. "Fine," He breathed in a callous manner before sauntering off like demon returning to darkness. Isabelle glanced up toward Finn with a hint of a rather surprised expression. "You've never threatened someone like that," Her gaze swept over him, there was something different about him. As she stood there, barefoot on the street with her purse and shoes in hand, the blonde couldn't help herself from drinking in his form. He had been... just fine. Shouldn't she had been just fine? Maybe she should've gone off with the reptile just to prove a point.

    The moon was high in the sky, not that it was granted much of a show considering the lighting in the area; what they did have was a gold tinted glow ebbing down from the old street lights. Isabelle's hotel was along the lit path, she'd be fine to walk back, at least in her mind. "Well... Thanks." The female finally managed to get out, her breath giving the scent of beer before she began to stride down the walkway. What a sight, a CEO walking back tipsy with her shoes in her hand, it looked rather shameful. Isabelle had only gotten a few steps away from him when she turned on her heel and marched right back to him; her delicate, feminine features were displaying a furious picture.

    "No, I'm not done." The blonde shook her head, causing some curls to glisten with the movement under the light. "I owe a reason. I deserve to know why you just... up and left. You left me, what we had. That was... It was becoming..." The blonde caught herself before tears began to form. "I was falling in love with you." Thick, dark lashes swept down for a moment as she tried to pull herself together. She wondered if he'd ever cared for her, if he'd ever been genuine with how they would laugh, how they would roll around in bed. He knew her intimately, and it felt like a lie. In contrast, she'd look far stronger than she did before. Isabelle's shape had fully flourished, she was toned and far fitter than she'd been before. There was a fierceness behind her eyes that had not been there before; it was there partially because of him.

    "You broke me, you don't get to walk away and live your happy life with whatever bitch you've got on the go," Isabelle was not a jealous person, she was not the type to throw such comments out, even in that moment. The alcohol helped, as did her insecurities. There was so much anger, so much pain just pouring from her. There was no release, no way to end it. The female continued just to gaze up toward him; there were so many thoughts going through her mind. In a second, she rose up onto her toes and slipped her hands up along his chest. It felt... familiar, even after all of the years. Without hesitation, she drew her hands up along his neck and around as her lips pressed up against his. There was no true force behind her kiss, it was far more tender, soft, warm lips brushing and caressing against his own. Out of the several things she wanted to do; showing him that she was happy he was alive at least had been the last on her list in her mind, but the top for her heart.
     
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  4. NobleSavage

    NobleSavage Sir Spikerton Community Helpers

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    Finn's eyes fixed solid to the man. Bold, intense, with no hint of backing down. He stood his ground until the other was the one to back away. His chin lifted, his hand releasing his arm roughly to let him walk away. "Prick," he murmured. At least the man knew better. Wolves would devour the snakes in the grass, pick their teeth with the bones. There was a moment of hesitation before he flicked a glance toward Izzy, clearing his throat as she called him out. "You've never been so... outspoken," he remarked, arching a brow high as he looked back at her.

    He had changed. There was a wildness about him, a primal ferocity tucked just beneath the surface of a familiar body. The stalking of a beast tucked behind the cage of human flesh. It was there in his eyes that wasn't quite as vibrant as they used to be, but harsher, more pained, experienced and hardly in a good way. They reflected the moonlight, the soft ambiance glow of the streetlights that flickered gold when he turned just right. A trick of the lights, perhaps? But from where he stood.. he could see he wasn't the only one who'd changed. Beneath the wiles of alcohol and tipsy sways, there was a woman who'd grown into herself. Who'd proved herself, and build a life of success. He'd only hoped she'd returned back to her plans and life goals after he'd gone, and in some aspects, it seemed she'd had.

    Seeing her turn away, he'd only nodded to her gratitude. "Don't mention it," he murmured, lifting a foot to walk away when he was stopped all over again to her reeling back for him. His head snapped in her direction, foot planting back to the ground as his brows soared. "... Of course not.." He sighed, defeated, as he tilted his frame to face her more completely. He waited for the verbal lashing, but this time it was more inquiring than a venomous tongue. His head tilted with a sigh, his jaw shifting. "Izzy... I know what I did. And I want to give you all the answers you want but--" He paused, hearing those words that caught his own in his throat. I was falling in love with you. It made his Adam apple jump with the harsh swallow, his eyes turning away from her to the street. But even when he wasn't looking at her, he was watching her in his peripheral. It was the safest way to look her over without being too honest about it. The subtle and not-so-subtle changes about her. In her eyes, her physique. It was admirable, to say the least.

    His gaze turned back to her when she told him he'd broken her. His head shook slowly. "That wasn't what I wanted. I--" His mouth opened and hung when she talked about some bitch he had on the go. His brows furrowed as his mouth snapped shut. No, she wasn't the type to toss those comments out and it had caught him off guard. She'd been sweet in her feisty nature before, but this was something altogether. He could hardly hold it against her, after what he'd done. And it was no question he'd hurt and angered her in how he'd left. "Maybe we should discuss this when you're less.. intoxica... ted.." He trailed off, staring at her as her hands lifted. This is it. She's gonna give me a good smack. Not that I don't deserve it... I do. And more. Maybe a punch. Wouldn't blame her for that eith-- oh fuck. Even his thoughts were cut off by her actions. She was surprising him left and right tonight, piercing through his armor and making him hesitate. It took every ounce of will power to not fall into her touch, and even his will wasn't strong enough to keep his lids from lowering to the memories she'd surfaced by smoothing her hands over his chest. "Izzy..." he whispered, warning but wanting at the same time.

    All these years apart, he'd dreamed and missed her touch. Against what he was sure she thought, it hadn't been easy for him to leave her. He hadn't wanted to. His eyes peered at her from a half mast gaze, watching her lips coming straight for his. This hadn't been something he saw coming, and it was another spear in his armor. Even the way her lips brushed his. The softness, the tenderness, the scent of beer on her breath that was more familiar than one would expect. Before he knew what he was doing, his head lowered to return the caress, his hands moving for her waist. His eyes rolled closed as strong fingers curled around her shapely, toned waist from all her efforts of taking care of herself. Unlike her, he was sober but no less soft and tender with his kiss. The kiss stirred both memories, and emotions he'd tried to swallow down beneath steel bars, and it made his pulse jump beneath her hands around his neck. A moment of lingering, hesitation, and his head tipped to press his forehead to hers before he was pulling back. "Iz..." He rasped out, trying to find his voice again after the kiss, his feet unsteady as he tried to put distance between them, holding her back with the hands that were wrapped around her sides. "I... can't," he shook his head solemnly. "Not like this," he murmured, averting his eyes back to the street. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his hands falling away from her waist. "It's good to see you're in good health," he told her, turning away from her. He wouldn't claim she was okay, or just fine. Truth be told, he wasn't either. But there was more a double meaning to her good health.

    You're alive.

    "I need to go," he told her over his shoulder as he started to walk down the street, lifting his eyes to the moon above and cursing it for everything it was worth.
     
    Last edited: Aug 6, 2018
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  5. Iniquity

    Iniquity You can't tame me. Moderator

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    His words had hit her ears, and she wholly wanted to believe in everything he had to say; hell, she craved it. Some part of her told her not to trust them, but she couldn't help but see the pain in his eyes. There was a pain in him that she could almost feel as her own, unfortunately, she could relate that kind of life changing pain. He had been hers, and she would never forget it. Even his soft whisper, Isabelle knew what it meant before she kissed him. And she refused to stop. The hint of want in his voice, it was so familiar and she missed it more than she could ever explain. Finn made her heart sing, he made her feel at home. The day he left was the day she was thrown out onto the street. In that moment when his warmth returned to hers, it made her feel whole. Even for a split second, just for a moment, the pain that she felt slipped away.

    An audible sound of approval hummed from within her as she felt his hands slip along her, the feeling of those strong digits holding her body to his was all she'd ever craved; to know that he wanted her, he needed her. He was her safety, her release from the world. Even in the way he touched her, the way he kissed her; it was as if no time had passed. There was no doubt in her mind; she still cared for him, she still felt everything she had done before, it had just been buried.

    As his forehead pressed to hers, the female took in a slow breath as she heard him call her the very same nickname he used to. "Mm?" A hum of warmth escaped her as she tried to reign in everything she felt. As he began to step back, the female whimpered softly, "Finn, no," The way he held her back made her hope that maybe he'd stay, she was wrong. As he tore away from her, his words soft, Isabelle found herself feeling utterly empty. She couldn't even contemplate the words he spoke, she was in utter disbelief. She'd found him again, he was alive and he was... everything he still had been, sure he was different but her love... it was like an ember burning, igniting as he touched her. The female stumbled back slightly as he told her he had to go, but he was already leaving her for the second time. A stifled whimper left her as she watched him walk away, swallowing back her tears as best she could. Isabelle was better than this, she was better than crying on a street looking like a drunk who lost her way.

    Eventually, the female found her hotel. The staff were kind and helpful as she made her way in. At that moment, she couldn't bring herself to care about what she looked like, or how her reputation was going to be affected. All she could think about was Finn, and what he looked like just leaving her in the street. She had never been walked away from by him, not like that. He had always been her home. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she made her way into her suite. Without hesitation she slammed the door and pressed her back to it, a squeal of pain leaving her as she fell to her rear, cradling her knees to her chest. A whole plethora of emotions ran through her, but none seemed stuck. It was a mess. She was a mess.

    Over the next hour, the female ordered wine and a variety of room service. First, the fries. The very enemy she'd fought while toning her body. It was a sad fact of life; nobody got as toned and as fit as she did with eating fries. They were soon wolfed down, joined by some cake. Red velvet to be exact. The lowest moment of her time so far was licking the icing from the plate. It was the only thing she could do, eat and drink. Even with the food she consumed, it wasn't enough to soak the alcohol up. A rather drunk blonde ended up in front of a mirror, staring at her reflection.

    "You... dess...errve.. better.." The female eyed herself, wide eyed and attempting to give herself a good stare. A small hiccup erupted, causing a great surprise as the female gasped at herself. "You're.... dunkk.." Another hiccup echoed from her before she gave a tired sigh. "He... I... Fuck him!" The blonde pouted genuinely, glancing down at the empty glass. A hint of strong scent liquor had been in there, it was clear that she had lost herself in trying to push away the dire need for the one she cared for. Oh, she'd had lovers since him, but nobody had ever meant anything to her. Finn.. he was the only one who managed to touch her heart. The days they would spend in bed, pizza, beer and all. She adored and loved every moment of it. The way they would play, nuzzle and end up wrapped up in the sheets for hours. He was her everything. He was her sanity. How she'd managed to live without him, she didn't know.

    The next morning, the female woke in a bed that was a complete state. Fries were awry, littered over her pillow and the floor. Pieces of cake seemed to be smeared over her chest, giving a reddish and slight white appearance. The female blinked slowly, the memories from the night before flooded into her mind as did the rather painful headache. "What..." The female glanced at the mess in her room, giving a soft sigh. Then, she recalled the very event that made her turn. "And to think I loved you." She whispered softly. Knowing who he was, she understood that her being intoxicated was a factor, but she'd never expect him to walk away from her like that. There was something.... different. She couldn't explain it, but there was clearly a change in him that she couldn't pinpoint.
     
  6. NobleSavage

    NobleSavage Sir Spikerton Community Helpers

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    Tearing himself away from Izzy was like tearing himself in half. All those years ago, leaving in the middle of the night with his maker's whispered words ricocheting in his ears... he'd left a vital part of himself behind with her. That thumping muscle that pumped life essence through his veins was left in the bed they'd shared on night's she'd stayed over. Nights entailing tangled limbs and sheets, tousled from horsing around and passion induced intimacy.

    I was falling for you. That was what she'd said. It had taken everything from him not to return the favor. I did love you, Izzy. I do. She deserved answers. She deserved reasons, and an explanation. Truth be told, he didn't know where to start. He couldn't begin to explain the change in him; the fear of hurting her to the point neither of them could come back from; the possibility of inflicting her on accident with his same curse. How could she begin to understand any of it? If he didn't experience it himself, he wouldn't have. She'd think he was insane.

    Hearing those two words sank his stomach to the ground, twisted it. Finn, no. He was leaving her all over again, and back then.. he might've stayed long enough to hail her a cab. Or walk her to home himself. He would've hugged her, kissed her, wished her well. But he could feel himself flipping, feeling himself spiraling out of control. If I don't leave now... I don't know if I can... It was the second time he'd said it to himself.

    The walk home had been brisk, impatient. He hadn't missed the confined four walls of his shady apartment on the Southside of town so much. The outside of the building looked more suitable than a methhead's den than any suitable living conditions. But it was low key, and hardly seemed worth breaking into or stealing from. Not that it would've been a smart idea to begin with. Much like walking into the dragon's lair, and expecting not to get swallowed whole or turned into charcoal. He wasn't the only Otherworldly denizen to encumber one of it's affordable cells.

    He'd slipped inside the building from the back door that creaked when it opened, climbed the stairwell to his third floor apartment with steps that grew heavier with each elevation. As much as he shouldn't, he felt exhausted. Completely drained, as if he'd run a dozen marathons at once, and his exhaustion was more internal than external. Reaching the door, one hand extended for the doorknob while the other slipped into a pocket of the trenchcoat to seek out his keys. Both paused as his nostrils flared, and his eyes rolled closed with the locking of his jaw, fighting back a growl. The familiar scent tickled his senses, and he pulled his hand out from his pocket. It wouldn't matter. The lock would be picked, he was sure of it. Twisting the knob, he only proved himself right as he pushed through, spilling himself into his studio apartment.

    The open space littered with scattered furniture, natural light of the moon filtering in through the large, panel windows from midway up to the wall to the high ceilings. His eyes landed on the raven haired woman sitting on his couch, settling her ice blue gaze on him. They were the kind of eyes to chill into one's very core, and her smug expression was bred from her genes. She was a purebred. She was settled into the corner of the couch, draping her arm over the back of the couch with a beer fixed into the palm of the other hand that was balanced on top one knee. The one that was crossed over the first comfortably. In the light, she looked like a moon goddess. With pale, almost radiant skin and plump lips painted red as blood. Her raven hair spilled straight down her shoulders, and she was dressed in nearly all black; from the corset top to her leather pants she wore like a second skin, tucked beneath knee-high stiletto boots.

    "Not tonight, Celine. I'm not in the fuckin' mood," he growled, his top lip curling with a scowl. His arm jerked to slam the door closed agitation, and the woman's head tilted with a purse of her lips.

    "What's wrong, baby? Meeting with Daddy not go so well?" She crooned, sliding to her feet with the stalking predatory grace she was born with. She bent down to set the half drank bottle on the coffee table, walking after him as he peeled off his jacket and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair.

    "Went as it usually did. He tried to con me into your pack, and I told him no. Not taking a hint runs in the family," he mumbled the last part, but it wasn't quite soft enough to escape her above average hearing.

    "I get it," she sighed, her heels clicking over the floorboards as she made her way behind him, slipping up against him as she smoothed her hands over his soft cotton tee, the ripples of muscle beneath that tensed under her touch. She ignored the growl that rumbled from the core of his belly. "You're skeptical. It's a big commitment to join a pack, but you don't have to worry, Finn. With my father's blessing, and my..." She quirked the corners of her mouth. "...Persuasion, you'd be welcomed with open arms. You're kin," she whispered to him, smoothing her hands down the cords of muscle to his more narrow waist, curling her fingers along his ribs. "You're one of us."

    Before she could wrap her arms completely around him, Finn's jaw set as his hands snapped to grasp one wrist, the other when he spun around to snarl in her face. "What part of no do you Larouches not fucking understand?" The grip he held her wrists with instigated a growl from her own, her fingers curling toward her palms as she settled her own narrowed gaze on the one he settled onto her. "I didn't kill my fuckin' maker just to become some fuckin' trophy for your pack roster," he looked her over with distaste, his hands shoving her back roughly as she took a stumbling step backward.

    She caught her balance rather quickly, rolling her shoulders to loosen the tension built from his aggression. The moon was edging closer, and apart from the blatant observation of bright moonlight filtering in through the dirty building windows, they could feel it radiating from their bones. The bright orb in the sky that crooned promising whispers to their beasts locked within their chests, pacing and snarling in anticipation to be released. No control, no holding back. Though they could change as they wished, the night where the moon shined full in it's orbit was the beast's night. There was no taming it.

    And she knew how to manipulate another's beast just as well as her own.

    Brushing off the glowering stare he settled on her, the snarl of bared teeth that rumbled like a motorcycle engine. Her head tilted as she gave him a sweep of her eyes, from boots to that desirable mane. "Wolves belong to packs, the lone wolf dies alone. And quickly. If you're too much of a fool to realize, so be it.." She lifted her head, shaking out her long black hair before she made her approach to him. "But how long are you going to keep pushing me away too, Finn?" Her hands snapped out to grasp the front of his shirt, the strength of her purebred blood overpowering his own in the moment as she pushed him back against the stove, rattling it with the impact of his backside. "Our wolves are calling for each other, can you feel it?" She purred to him, lowering her eyes over him as he grasped her arms and seemed ready to give her another shove. Before he could, she was quick to press herself against his firm frame. "Are you going to deny him as much as yourself?" Her eyes lifted to him, and what was once glacier blue was a tawny gold, sharper in it's outline at the edge of the irises.

    He stilled seeing that color in her eyes, feeling it doing just as she'd said. It called to the writhing beast inside the cage of his chest, clawing and snarling it's way to come out. "Celine..." He warned, sharper, harsher and far less intimate than he'd given another woman that night. He could feel his control slipping, and he didn't have to see it to know his own eyes were changing. Bleeding from their evergreen forest shade to the vibrant gold-orange that her and the moon's instigating incited. You're not the one I want..

    "Give into him, Finn. Loosen his chains, just a little," she whispered seductively to him, stretching up on her toes as her eyes fixed on his snarling lips. He started to turn his head away until he felt her fingers snaking up into his hair, giving it a sharp tug before her tongue lashed out against his throat. While he knew it wasn't particularly a threat, it was the cherry on top to rile his beast. To push him over the edge, to shove him further into his spiraling self control he'd been clutching so tightly to throughout the night.

    A sharp, loud snarl tore from his lips as his hands grasped her waist roughly, shoving her back but not away. His body rolled away from the stove to slam her back into the fridge, summoning a sharp gasp from her before the wolfish grin. Her fingers remained in his hair through the maneuver, her head turning away as his head lowered to her throat. Sliding her gaze to the side of his face, she rumbled as he bore his teeth to her throat, snapping before his hands circled to the zipper of her corset in the back, snaking it down with a jerk of his hand. "Good boy," she snickered to him, as he lifted his head and shot her a glare.

    "Shut your fuckin' mouth," he barked, irritation and anger flashing through his bright irises as his hands jerked her, flipping her around to face the fridge. She let out a yelp before she cackled to the force behind it, the power and strength before her palms fixed flat to the cold surface. Looking over her shoulder to him, then down to his hands as they went for the fastening of his belt. Smirking, as if she'd won, her hands lowered to unfasten her own leather pants to push them down past her hips and backside. While she did shut up.. the smug look on her face never faltered.

    Maybe if I close eyes, I can pretend.... He thought, even though he knew nothing in this world, no one could compare to the woman he'd walked away from tonight.
     
    Last edited: Aug 6, 2018
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  7. Iniquity

    Iniquity You can't tame me. Moderator

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    Despite her aching head and the carnage of the night before displayed in leftover carbs and sugar, the blonde know she had to get up. That deal wasn't going to make itself. With a stifled huff, the woman pulled herself out of the queen sized bed, her toes brushing into the warm carpet before she padded to the bathroom. A shower had never felt so... rebirthing. The headache began to ease under the cool water, and the sins of the night before began to fade. All she could focus on was just how miserable she was, how he left her standing in a street. Is that what she meant to him now? It couldn't be, she'd felt his warmth in his kiss; he'd embraced her. So why would he leave her if he wanted her? It made no sense. He told he that he couldn't give her answers; so what was holding him back? The very thought was devastating, what could be so bad that he had to leave her if he really did want her? As long as she knew him, Finn hadn't given in to such things.

    After some time, the female had washed and blow dried her hair in her usual loose curl fashion. The blonde had managed to dress herself in record time, instead of picking something especially formal, she chose to sport a rather sleek summer dress. It cupped around her breasts, curving around them and being held by two small straps before trailing inward at her hourglass waistline, then trailing out ever so slightly. It was a rather soft light blue, giving a rather gentle look. Next, she slipped into a pair of wedge heels. She certainly looked well dressed, even if it wasn't as professional as usual. With her casual look, she tugged her light blonde curls into a ponytail. This was going to be a rough day, she could already feel it coming.

    Time was ticking on, and Isabelle needed to do her job. The meeting was set for mid day, so she gathered her things and left the hotel promptly for ten. It was enough time for her to grab a coffee on the way and get to her meeting point and plan the introduction. Of course, she'd already prepared, but doing more wasn't going to cause any harm. She'd refresh the points in her mind and go from there. Her assistant wasn't with her on this trip, meaning that she needed to have everything on hand and ready to present, so far she couldn't think of anything she'd missed. It was perfect; aside from the devastating night before. Isabelle, now sober, could handle it more than she had. It sounded like there were several reasons he backed away, and she wasn't going to push him. If he didn't want her, she wouldn't try. Even though it seemed like he may have, maybe it was just how familiar she was, or what they'd shared. If he truly wanted her, he wouldn't have left her.

    As she settled down in the seemingly old school diner, she couldn't help but feel like she was being watched. Isabelle ignored it, ordering a coffee and browsing the menu while she waited. Soon enough, she heard heavy footfalls approach. The female rose up from her seat immediately, offering her hand as she saw a rather tall, broad man approach her. Compared to her five foot five petite frame, he was a giant. He had rather a lot of dark strands, christened with grey. It suited him. Immediately, the female noticed his necklace. It was something that stood out, it was beautiful. "Nice to meet you, Mr Larouche. I'm Isabelle Beckett, we spoke on the phone." The female eased back into her chair once they'd shaken hands. His grip was incredibly firm, it was just as she expected.

    With the appearance he had, Isabelle almost contemplated telling him that she didn't approve of illegal activity, but she kept her mouth shut. "So, Mr Larouche," She began as she started to flick through a folder in front of her. "Here are my referrals, you can see the staggering difference I've made to some businesses. I can promise you that you'll see a difference if you choose to hire me." The blonde took a sip of her coffee before peering toward him. She wasn't intimidated by him, and it showed. Isabelle was a woman of strength, even more so since she'd ventured out on her own. "That pendant of yours, it's beautiful." The blonde offered him a warm smile as she gazed over her notes. "The idea I had regarding your business was... clinging to the idea of something of a powerful wolf. I see the name is already leading to it. We could have icons made up, social media covered with artwork of your bar, promoting the rustic, wild atmosphere." The woman gazed toward him, seemingly truly interested. "So, is there anything I can clear up for you?"

    Once the meeting was over, it seemed that Mr Larouche wanted her to come to his bar later that evening. She seemed to have hit the right spot. Of course, she happily agreed. With the bill paid, they left one another with a promise to meet later that night. Isabelle unleashed a cheerful squeal on her walk out to the street, it was perfect.

    Later that night, the female was ready to leave. She had changed into a pair of black figure hugging jeans along with a loose, sheer white top that was rather loose and breezy. Coupled with it, she wore a nude bra. Thankfully, it seemed to blend rather nicely. Just like the night before, she wore reasonably tall heels, bringing her to five seven and causing her rear to curve up. The long blonde curls had been released to trail down along her back. She certainly looked the part. Once she set off, the trail began to unsettle her. It was... The same bar ? Her heart leapt. The night before, she hadn't even noticed the name of the bar when she stepped in. The female swallowed, hard. Before she stepped in, the blonde took a long, deep breath. "Heaven help me." The blonde murmured before forcing open the door and stepping in to the warm, rustic bar.

    "Mr Larouche, nice to see you again," The blonde beamed to her new client, offering a firm handshake before turning around to see there were more people than she expected. "I suppose you should fill me in now, I feel like I'm missing a chapter."
     
  8. NobleSavage

    NobleSavage Sir Spikerton Community Helpers

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    Titus Larouche was a man of power and danger. It flowed through him with every confident, heavy step he took. As much as he shared a good sense of humor, and a give 'em hell attitude, his gunmetal grey eyes and jovial smile could be creased in a harmless and good-natured way. Then turned cold, harsh, and sharp within seconds. There was an air of mystery that surrounded him to the locals, to the raking scars that dragged across his throat from his Adam's apple to the back of his neck, dangerously crossing over his jugular. A wound that looked lethal, and should've been.

    The man was broad shouldered and tall, standing at 6'2" and thick at the waist with muscle. Built sturdy as a brick house, he was an intimidating man by all rights. Salt and peppered hair, harboring a thick beard neatly trimmed by a life long barber from down the street. He was trouble disguised as a gentleman, and those who knew him well enough was all too aware of just how much trouble he could be. Ink ran along his arms, his hands, scattering across a broad and thick chest and creeping subtly up the sides of his neck beneath the scars.

    He was the personification and inspiration for the business he owned, Maimed Maw Pub. Though, it hadn't been him to name it. Instead, it had been a drunken slur by one of his packmates, one that had earned a barking laugh from the man and then it had grown on him. The business had kicked up dust some odd ten years ago, and while it was a newer establishment, it's atmosphere and appearance was rustic. Old finished wood, stained glass chandeliers that cast a dim ambiance throughout the pub. Four pool tables were set up in the back, along with an old jukebox Titus had bought at an auction. Tables scattered throughout the pub, giving patrons the ability to sit in solace or with groups. It was a haven for him and his people, the wolves lying among drunken sheep.

    The intent of the establishment was simplistic. A meeting place for his pack, a home. A place to drink, and enjoy life, if not occasionally get rowdy. Over time, patrons had lost interest in the rustic atmosphere and sought more modernized establishments. Over time, the pack had thinned for various reasons: rivals, enemies, hunters, and simply stupidity. The Bloodskins were an expansive pack, and now they had shrunk to a handful of the strongest to have survived.

    Yet, Titus was never known to lay on his back and submit. He fought ferociously, with bared teeth and raised hackles. He refused to let them die off one by one, and instead... sought expansion. As exclusive, tightly-knit as they had once been... it was time to open doors, prospect, and recruit. An old fashioned man stuck in ancient ways, his daughter Celine had brought already known struggles to his attention. She'd convinced him that the ancient ways hardly worked anymore, and it was time to modernize... to compromise. She had her sights set on a drifter that had potential, he'd admitted so to her. And as much as he'd tried, there was a great deal of resistance. However, he was stubborn, bullheaded and persistent. Hardly one to give up.

    But one man alone wouldn't tip the scales of their success, their survival. There was a need for safety in numbers, and it was numbers they were lacking. With Celine's argument loud and thriving in his mind, he'd done just as she said - though, perhaps not quite as she'd meant.

    Modernize.

    The Maimed Maw was the central hub for them, a place to observe. There were eyes in every corner of the building, and ever watching. Waiting for anything - or anyone - who stood out. Yet, in order to observe, they needed patrons. The best way to gain business was to advertise, he'd been told. They needed to build a reputation, one that the gruesome name didn't paint quite the most welcoming picture of. This side of the business... it was hardly in his strongest deck of cards. Reaching out to a well-established and successful PR, he didn't know what to expect...



    It was well before the hours that the pub normally opened that Titus had slipped out of the side entrance that lead up to his second story apartment above the bar. He'd suggested she meet him at a local diner he'd been going to for years. It was a neutral place to meet, if not informal. He wasn't the suit and tie kind of man, though he'd slicked back his salt and pepper hair, slipped into a navy blue button up shirt that did little to hide just how broad he was. A pair of bootcut jeans that were cinched tight to his hips by a brown leather belt, and black leather boots to top it all off. Settled against the skin of his chest exposed by the unbuttoned slit of fabric was a circular talisman, one that was tarnished over time but elaborate in it's design. The Heart of the Wolf.

    He'd arrived to the diner on foot, finding the blonde head of the woman he'd seen pictures of on her website. She'd stood out to him the moment he saw it. Titus was a firm believer that eyes were the windows to the soul, and there was strength in hers. Determination and ambition. She seemed to recognize exactly who he was as he approached, and he lifted his chin with a note of amusement poised on his half-smirk when she rose to her feet. Closing the distance, he'd taken her outstretched hand in a firm but not crushing grip with a short shake. "Figured. I recognize your picture on the site, and y'voice. Nice to meet you too," he spoke gruffly, his voice rough and deep from damaged cords but it carried nonetheless.

    As she'd taken her seat, he moved around the table to sit across from her. "But please, jus' call me Titus," he told her. An informal gesture but it suited him just as much. The waitress had brought him coffee without asking for his order, and he'd smiled up at her in familiarity. "Thank ya, darlin'." She'd smiled to him, but dipped out noting the important atmosphere of the meeting. He drank the black coffee as she got straight to business, and it was a trait he admired. No bullshit, no beating around the bush. Straight to it. His eyes lowered to the folder, but he shook his head in a quick, firm gesture. "Don't need references," he told her, fixing her with a steeled gaze she didn't bow down to. It made him smile. He was gathering everything he needed to know about her from this meeting. No amount of references could replace what he, himself, could read from her. His eyes lowered down to his chest for a brief moment to the pendant, just to return a second later. "Thanks, had it long as I can remember," he told her. "Given to me by m'father," he informed her with a sip of his coffee.

    The more she spoke, the colder his coffee became as he utterly lost interest in it. His attention was fixated on her, and mirth twinkled in his eyes as she had already captured the vision he'd instilled in his pub over the years. His smile was almost jovial, softening the sharp blow of his appearance before he boasted a laughter when she mentioned wolves. "It may have crossed my mind a time'r two..." He snickered, shaking his head. He was quiet a moment as she asked if anything could be cleared up, and he shook his head. "You're a woman of ideas, Ms. Beckett. I can hold up the bones of my bar, and sling drinks like I was born with a bottle o' Jack in my hand, but when it comes to... this," he lifted a finger to his ignored mug, gesturing to her folder. "I ain't got a clue. I'm a man set in my ways," he smirked at her. "But I ain't lettin' me or my bar go down without a fight, and you seem like jus' the soldier I need to bring it back to life. You've got spirit, darlin'. And that's the kinda soul I'm lookin' for. So no," he shook his head, leaning back in his chair as the wood creaked beneath his weight. "I don't need nothin' cleared up. But I think our next step would be for you to see the place for yourself. I wanna hear more of yer ideas, and I don't think nothin' will beat inspiration from the base itself. Drop by tonight, let's see how you do in the wild, rustic environment," he smirked.



    The meeting had ended just like that, and he'd informed the important members of the pack of his plans. Celine had given him an exasperated look. "That is not what I meant."

    "What I heard. She's got spunk, I like 'er." Titus' gruff voice was aloof, stern. There would be no swaying him from his decisions, and it was clipped in demanding her silence on the matter.

    The comment only made her scowl, even as she'd kicked up her perch on the edge of her father's bar and crossed her arms over her chest. She seemed to be the only one who was perturbed by the idea, and the others seemed keen, if not a little confused but open to it. They knew they needed numbers, and the Maimed Maw was a good place to start.

    They'd spoken before opening the doors to the public, and even though he'd invited Isabelle to stop by, it didn't mean he was going to cease or close his doors to any other patrons for the night. Admittedly, there wasn't an astounding number, but likely more than expected during a work-week. A handful of them could be blamed for the ones who had received a personal invitation from the leader. As it was, he was standing behind the bar and wiping it down in the same wardrobe he'd worn during their meeting. He hadn't bothered to change for work, after all.. he owned it. He could wear what he wanted.

    Straightening from his lean to the sound of the door opening, his head turned to lock his gaze onto the blonde slipping inside and he gave her a once over. Her own attire made him smirk, and he seemed to approve of her dressing down for the occasion. She looked more like she fit in here. Celine watched her like a hawk as she moved to shake her father's hand, the way he gripped it firm and released it. "Likewise. Glad ya showed, and... dressed well for the occasion," he chuckled. "We ain't fancy 'round here," he shook his head. Celine scoffed, and he shot her a look. "Celine." One word, and the woman was silenced, even if her resting bitchface was on full display. His attention slid back to the blonde as he tossed his bar rag aside, and he was back to smiling. As friendly and casual as it seemed, she seemed to draw a number of glances from other patrons, brief as it was. Watchful, reading her. "You captured the exact vision I'd built this place on. Not many understand what I wanted to represent this place, but you caught it immediately," he told her, spreading thick arms out in gesture as he rounded the bar toward the break, pausing to snag a bottle of Jim Beam from the shelves and two stout glasses before continuing to the patron's side. "Celine, tend the bar for me," he told her.

    With a sigh, she complied. Lifting her legs, her backside swiveled before she jumped down on the tender's side with a click of heels and a bounce on agile legs. Even as she smiled to a couple of people at the bar, she kept a close eye on her father.

    "I don't do business with someone I can't trust," Titus informed Isabelle, casting a gunmetal glance to her like the shot of a bullet. "And I can't trust someone I can't share a drink with," he smirked, gesturing to a table off to the side though close enough to the others to not ostracize themselves. "Join me." He didn't seem interested in taking matters to his office, but in the feral atmosphere of his own bar. Setting the glasses on the table's surface, he nudged a chair out from the table with his boot before collapsing into it. He hardly wasted time before he was twisting the cap off the fresh bottle, pouring a couple shots worth of liquor into the glasses.
     
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  9. Iniquity

    Iniquity You can't tame me. Moderator

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    The first words he spoke to her brought a smile across her tender, full lips. "Honestly, I was going to just come in some torn up jeans and a loose tank top I packed for my off day, but you know, working in the city seems to require uncomfortable wears." Her thick, British accent only truly piped up at certain points, there was a twang there. When she noticed a scoff, the female frowned ever so slightly. There was a brunette, with a rather catty attitude. Thankfully, Titus ordered her to get to tending the bar... Celine. A name fitting for someone with a snarky attitude. Isabelle was completely in awe of the building, seeing it almost for the first time since the other night; she'd been far to concerned with beer. "Well, I'm glad I caught it. There's just this feeling it has, wild, untamed." Her crystal blue orbs glistened with excitement.

    With the manner in which the woman left the top of the bar, Isabelle knew there was something rather off with her. Sassy, beautiful and she knew it, most likely self entitled. The blonde wondered if she was an only child who had praised lavished upon her. Or maybe she was jaded, trying to take it out on the world for the hard time she'd had.

    "Agreed," The blonde fully supported the male in not doing business with people he didn't trust; the glance he gave her was somewhat unsettling, but she didn't change her expression. A smirk grew over her lips as his appeared, his words made her remember the night before; oh well, who was she kidding? "Well, let's remember you asked for this. I don't apologise for the havoc I'm going to bring to your bar when I'm several shots in." The female purred softly as she noticed the way he brought his seat and eased down, pouring their drinks. "Tell me, Titus," It was the first time she'd obeyed his comment of using his first name, and it rolled off her British tongue in a different manner than it rolled off of his. "How long have you been running this place?" There was a tone of affection in her voice; the place was homey, it felt... nice. Rustic. It truly did convey what he wished it to, at least what she thought he wanted it to.

    The blonde tentatively took hold of the glass, eyeing it before she placed it to her lips and knocked it back. A soft hiss escaped her lips as she winced slightly to him, "That's pretty fucking strong," The female placed her glass back down and snatched up the bottle before he could. Without reserve, she topped both glasses back up before giving him a playful wink. "Trust me, with me at your side, you won't have to do any heavy lifting. All you'll have to do is run this place. I'll bring the people." Her blue eyes twinkled as she took another shot, shaking her head slightly, "Damn, this stuff...."

    After she took a moment and allowed him to top them up, she gazed toward him with an honest gaze. "You said you can't work with people you can't trust. Please, call me Isabelle. I grew up in London, I worked a few non legal jobs when I was a kid. Finally got my arse into a good university, supporting myself the whole way." The way her orbs shimmered as she spoke, it was emotional for her. "I clawed and tore my way to where I am. I can dress in fancy clothes, and I can present all my referrals. But what you're hiring is me. I'm like a dog with a bone, and I won't stop. I love what I do. I'm sure you've already picked up on that; it's why I'm here, isn't it? Personality over my work?" It was a flattering idea; but she noticed the way he didn't look at her work, not really, and the way he dismissed any need for previous reports. It seemed that he cared more for what a person was made up of, which was admirable.

    "I'm an open book," The female continued before taking another shot, she could already feel it loosening her up. Especially since she grabbed the bottle and poured each of their glasses to the very brim. "I like this place, I like it a lot. It feels... homey. I don't know, it just somehow feels safe." Her gaze lingered to his, offering a rather wide smile as her eyes glittered with excitement. "So, you get every person you may want to hire drunk just to see what comes out?" The female's words began to slur every so slightly, her thick lashes drifted down slightly. Drinking two days in a row was certainly going to give her a hangover from hell, but it was worth it.

    "You know, you could even add a stuffed wolf in here, it'd be pretty bold." The female gazed around the place, admiring the decor. She truly did adore it. "A big, powerful wolf. As much as I hate to see such amazing animals stuffed, it'd still make a rather nice point." After another shot, she was a little woozy. Yet, she poured them both another drink. He didn't even seem bothered, not in the slightest. However, when a man walked right in with a rather impressive husky with eyes that could sear any gaze, the blonde bounced from her seat. Her inhibitions had gone, so she felt no guilt at leaving her drinking pal just to pat a beautiful hound. Almost immediately, the animal gave her a snarl. Instead of backing away, Isabelle stepped forward, invading the animal's space in order to greet the owner. "Hi there," The female extended her hand, somewhat shakily. The younger male looked rather handsome, and he was all too happy to shake her hand. "Hi, I just wanted to ask if it's allowed to bring him in here, ya know? A lot of bars around 'ere aint letting dogs come in. Sorry about his behaviour.. he's a little---" The male paused as he saw the husky sit in front of Isabelle. A soft woof echoed from the beast before she knelt down on one knee. Extending a hand slowly, the creature leaned in to brush his muzzle against her. "I guess he's more wolf than dog still," He chuckled softly, "I promise he'll behave while he's in here."

    Isabelle nodded to Titus, "That's the man you gotta ask, love." Her gaze never strayed from the animal in her hold. Eventually, it even began to rest against her as the man strode over to Titus, seeing no issue with leaving his pet with the blonde. For some reason, in her life, she'd always been able to calm a beast. And it wasn't with tenderness, but with firmness. Her grandmother used to joke that the only way a beast could be calmed was to sense something stronger; a banshee to her knowledge. Something of magic, that had then evolved into fae. It always made Isabelle laugh, it was so foolish. Now, she looked longingly back at the strange stories her grandmother would tell her.

    "So, Titus, can the pup stay?" The female glanced up, the husky leaning against her before offering a woof in response, gazing toward the older man. "He's being a very good boy." Again, the dog woofed, almost hard enough that his form shook. As if on cue, he lapped against her jaw, causing a soft chuckle to escape her.
     
  10. NobleSavage

    NobleSavage Sir Spikerton Community Helpers

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    "Y'could've," Titus snickered. "We ain't got a lot of fucks to give 'round here, and bigger concerned than how ya dress," he smirked, though he seemed to appreciate her choice nonetheless. As catty as Celine was, she hardly stepped up or spoke against her father when it came to outsiders. Even if she was his daughter, he had a heavy paw and undermining him rarely went over well. There was a hierarchy in their pack, and Titus was the king.. the Alpha. So as the entitled Princess grumbled, she did as she was told.

    "If you apologized, I'd think less of ya," the older man spoke honestly as he sat back against the chair that creaked with weathered wear. His beard shifted, giving the clue that he was smiling. "Ya don't come to a bar, and not drink. It ruins the whole atmosphere. So I'll take the havoc, lay it on me," he snorted fearlessly. After all, if Titus were to shy away from anyone causing havoc in his establishment... well, that wouldn't leave him with business. His eyes lifted to her as he'd poured their drinks, setting the bottle aside to palm his glass instead. "Goin' on ten years now. Before this, I ran a motorcycle garage. Guess you could say I'm used to bein' Boss," he boasted a laugh, lifting his drink to knock it back. The shot was downed in one swallow that convulsed the muscle beneath his scars, but it didn't seem to bother him any. He was a man who loved his liquor, and hardly wasted time on beer. He wanted, and needed, the burn that came with his alcohol.

    With the curve of his hand resting on the table, still holding his empty glass, he seemed intent to watch her. He wanted to see how she handled her liquor, and he could respect a woman who could share a drink of his taste without making a godawful face, or even spit it out. When she only commented on it's strength, he laughed and reached to turn the label towards her. "Jim Beam Black, the only one worth rememberin' in my opinion..." It was aged well, and left behind a taste that seemed to blend well with the feeling of his bar. Rustic and homey with it's blend of caramel, oak, cinnamon and vanilla. It left a warm taste on the tongue after the burn of the liquor. Though, his brow arched when she went for the bottle before he could lift it to pour them another round, smiling when she took the initiation to do it herself. He merely tipped his glass to let her pour his. He found... a good bit of humor in that notion. It was there in his eyes that crinkled when he laughed, looking between the two. "Are you tryna turn me lazy?" he teased with a good nature, and he barely wasted any time in knocking back his drink to swallow the shot. "Won't say it don't sound good to get back to runnin' this place the way I like," he admitted before watching her down the second shot as well. "Good, innit?"

    He nodded slowly. "Isabelle, it is." He went quiet as he listened to her story, topping off their glasses mid-way instead of just a shot. He knew the others were listening to, though it was only his gaze that was intent on her. The barrel of a gun, and the one that mattered. Regardless of their opinions, his word was law. As much as he let some matters be a democracy, his final vote was typically the one that set the plans in motion or squashed them into the ground beneath a heavy boot. His brow lifted when she spoke of non legal jobs, and there was a curiosity in his eyes he didn't try to hide. Naturally, some words stuck out to him, and he found the irony in them. Their innocence, since he doubted she knew anything about him than what appeared on the surface. "What kinda non legal jobs you work in the past, Isabelle?" As forward as he asked, he didn't apologize for prying. After all, she claimed to be an open book. "I won't tell ya I haven't had my fair share of dirty hands, my slate ain't clean. I won't pretend it is. You gotta claw your way to the top, bare your teeth and be ready to snap them." He leaned forward in his seat, propping his forearms on the edge of the table in a loose cross. One arm lifted as he tipped his drink toward her. "They say hell is paved with good intentions, and I believe life is paved with blood, sweat and hard work. So good on ya for not takin' Easy Street. It's respectable," he nodded, bringing his glass back for a heady swallow of his drink. "Trust and respect are some of the most important things I believe in. Y'well on your way to earnin' both," he smiled, and there was a show of teeth peeking out between his beard. "It ain't easy, so don't take it for granted." People were books to Titus, and he had a way of looking into their eyes to find the key points. The difference between good and bad, honest and dishonest, trustworthy and distrustful, a fighter and a coward. He had no room in his patience for a dishonest coward he couldn't trust, and Isabelle struck him as the proper opposite of that. The good and the bad... he could take it case by case. It all depended on if they were worth it.

    He finished the rest of his drink, and watched as she topped them to the brim. It made him grin, wolfish in it's manner, and approving. Though, her praise for his bar was only stroking his ego. That he wasn't inclined to enjoy some stroking from time to time. Chuckling, he raised a brow. "Safe? I gotta say, not many people feel the same way here. But you see through it's rough rocks to the diamonds underneath." One lid dropped in a quick wink before he swigged back some Jim, swallowing harshly. "All of them? No," he shook his head. "Most? Yes. People present themselves how they want to be seen. This," he lifted his drink to gesture. "Loosens the veil and shows who's hidden behind it. They say a drunk man.. or woman in this case... is an honest one," he chuckled. "So, the more we drink... the more I see who you really are, Isabelle." He leaned back in his seat, lifting his drink to gulp it down in a couple swallows. Hissing through his teeth, he lowered the glass to the table but hardly seemed worse for wear from it. It hardly seemed to effect him at all. Truth be told, he was one who could be stinking drunk and you wouldn't know it. He held his liquor well.

    His eyes locked hard on her talking of stuffed wolves and he wrinkled his nose. "Oh... no. That's just distasteful. If a wolf should die, they die with dignity. They leave their bodies to the wilds, to the natural cycle." He shook his head. "I'd sooner string my own head up in this bar than stuff a wolf and display it." Well... perhaps if it was a rival... No different to him than villages leaving the heads of their enemies on spikes to deter other dangers and threats. She poured, and he reached for his drink until his nose twitched slightly in a foretelling scent a moment before the door opened to let another animal in. One that was on all fours and much furrier. His head turned, torso twisting before he settled his gaze on the hound first then the man who came with it. The gaze was distracted by the bouncing blonde who seemed all too excited over the animal. He couldn't help the way his brow arched high, staring after her as she rushed to the husky. He snickered, taking a sip of his drink as they spoke. His eyes flicked downward, squinted, to the dog when he snarled and bit back one of his own.

    But what he was most intent on with his attentions, was seeing how Isabelle handled the animal. She didn't back down from the snarl, and instead pushed past it. She soothed the animal, and turned it into nothing less than a lovable pup. His head tilted to the display, and it took him a moment to realize the man was on his way towards him. Celine was squinting at Isabelle as she wiped out a glass, keeping her hands busy and trying to distract herself. After a moment, she lifted her nose and turned away to the look on her father's face, huffy as could be. Titus on the other hand, looked up to the newcomer and rose to his feet instinctively. He never cared much for looking up to another man, and instead settled a look on him. "Titus Larouche," he introduced himself. "Owner of the Maw," he informed the stranger, just as a handful of the patrons raised their glasses or beers in a bark of "here here!" or even a few less formal "fuck yeah!" comments. One look made them quiet down with a trail of chuckles before Titus rolled his eyes. "Quiet, you heathens," he snickered, before looking over to the dog getting cozy with Isabelle. She asked, and he crossed his arms sternly like he might just say no.

    "We'll see about that." His frame turned from the owner, of whom watched the owner of the pub curiously. His eyes settled on the husky, and he shifted his lips to whistle and snap his fingers with a downward point.

    "He's not all too trained," the dog owner started, just to trail off as he watched the husky stare at Titus, locking eyes. It flicked a glance at Isabelle, but not for long as Titus' stare down drew it's attention. Slowly, it pulled away from the blonde to approach the brick house of a man. It strode forward, hackles raised at first with both sets of eyes locked on each other. For a moment, nothing else existed in the room. The man's jaw tensed, lids lowering into a steeled gunmetal squint. It was a moment of tension, like two wild animals. It even drew the attention of the patrons in the bar, and Celine who seemed all too interested but sported her first smile of the day. She leaned her palms on the bar to watch on.

    As the husky crept towards Titus, it's tail started to curl beneath him and he lowered down to the floor in a way that at first seemed to be the body language of lunging until the dog broke into a crawl across the wood of the bar. "What's going--" Titus shushed him, keeping his eyes on the dog who did the same in return, belly crawling to the man until he was at his feet, exactly where he pointed. There was a moment of consideration on both sides before ever so slowly, the husky rolled onto it's back with his legs up and curled to show utter submission. The tower of a man smirked as he crouched down, balancing on the balls of his feet to reach down and pat the soft underbelly of the animal. "Good boy," Titus concluded, giving another soft whistle that had the dog bounding up to his feet to lap at his bearded chin, tail wagging. "Alrigh', alrigh', that's enough," he grunted, putting a wide palm on his head for a ruffle, rising to his feet.

    The moment of tension passed, and Titus looked between the dog owner and Isabelle with a shrug. "He can stay." The owner looked confused to what in the hell just happened between the scarred man and his dog, but the husky seemed content with it. He let out a speaking yowl that rolled though his belly before he took off back to Isabelle, lapping at her as Titus took a step back and inhabited his seat once more. "First drink's on the house. Celine," he called to the woman behind the bar. "Get the dog a bowl of water." The raven haired woman rolled her eyes but listened as she pushed through the bar's break toward the kitchen for a bowl. With the moment's passing, so had the attention of the patrons, or at least most of them, returning to their drinks as Titus scooped up his to down the rest of it.
     
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  11. Iniquity

    Iniquity You can't tame me. Moderator

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    Isabelle was starting to grow a fondness for Titus; he seemed to have a firm, level mind. Clearly, he did want to get to know who she really was; and she had no means of hiding it. "Jobs?" The female chuckled softly, gazing up toward him. Her features were stern, much like his, and she could hold her own with him. "I stole. Mainly from large stores, you know the ones you guys have in the mall. I was involved with a gang. They needed someone innocent, someone... straight. I moved the goods when they were stopped, and I dropped them off. I was the wild card, I guess." A soft snicker left her. "I lived with my grandmother, my parents died young. I had to bring in something, she couldn't afford much." A glimmer of pain crossed her features before she knocked back another shot. That story was for another time, maybe. Isabelle missed having a family, people to love her and keep her safe. "Well, that's the vibe I get from your bar, it's more of a home."

    The blonde watched in awe as Titus shut the group up with a few words, then his attentions turned to the husky. She had never seen a dog so... in tune with a human. Her eyes glistened in awe and excitement as the dog began to crawl toward him at some stage, rolling over and revealing it's belly. Even she knew it was submission in its purest form. The female beamed as she made her way over, watching the affection Titus gave the mutt, especially when he began to lick at Titus in a similar way he'd done to Izzy. A joyful squeal left her as he mentioned the dog could stay. It was even sweeter when he asked the snooty woman to fetch a bowl of water for the canine.

    As the dog leapt back toward her, the blonde chuckled softly. "Hey baby, how're you doing?" She purred toward him, her fingers brushing through his fur with an immense amount of affection. "Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?" the female cooed to him, causing his tail to wag furiously as he lapped his tongue along her throat. "You're such a good boy," The blonde glanced up to the owner, "Hey, you looking to sell him?" The male turned, looking surprised before chuckling. "No, not really, he could do with some training but.... it looks like he's rather happy with you." Isabelle shrugged as the husky settled close to her, and rose as she rose to feet. Even as she moved, he glued to her leg like a well trained pup.

    Isabelle approached the man, offering a warm smile as she watched Titus and the hound that gazed up toward him. "He was submitting to Titus here, hence the showing of his belly. Do you train dogs, Titus? I have a few exes you could work on." The female was clearly feeling the alcohol as she eased back into her seat. "That was a rather beautiful display, I'm considering you may have worked with animals before." The blonde gazed toward Titus, her awe and appreciation of him in full display. It was brief before she glanced to the new man who seated himself next to them, soon he had a drink in hand and Izzy was pouring more shots.

    "So tell me, what's the dogs name?" The female purred softly, her gaze lingering on his form. He was attractive; tall, lean, blonde. He'd be good to help her rid her mind of one particular man. In her drunken state, it was certainly an option. Titus, he seemed the man she wished to know more, and he was handsome. Built like an unnatural force; but he was... there was something about him that stopped her, as well as being professional. Something about him felt... dangerous. "Rex," the male's voice broke her thoughts as she glanced toward him, "But I'm more interested in your name, what is it?" The male leaned in closer, causing Izzy to blush ever so slightly, "Isabelle, but I'm busy interviewing with my possible new boss." The female offered him an apologetic smile before turning back to Titus, her gaze filled with lust and awe.

    "So, handsome, how am I fairing with your interview?" The blonde couldn't help but offer a rather sultry grin. It was clear that alcohol brought out a side of her that was rare; even in her personal life. She'd had no boyfriends, only brief flings. Mostly, she had pleasure from toys rather than men since her heart had been elsewhere, it was hard to mix the two. "So, Titus, tell me, what is it that I have to pass for this job? What do you want me to reveal?" A warm, welcomed smile graced her lips. "I know you're waiting for something, so maybe I can help it along."

     
  12. NobleSavage

    NobleSavage Sir Spikerton Community Helpers

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    The idea of Isabelle being in a gang seemed to utterly surprise him, and he couldn't hide it. Transparency on his features, he was taken aback as he stared at her a moment - perhaps trying to picture it. He was having a hell of a time with it. "You were involved with a gang?" He arched a brow, looking her over. Though when she explained what they'd wanted from her, it made a lot more sense. "Mn, ya do have the innocent look to fly under the radar," he smirked, and it faltered some when she spoke of her gran and parents. "Sorry to hear that," he nodded. "Ya gotta do what you gotta do to take care of family, right?" It was a philosophy he could easy get behind, and one he made adamant in the pack. His smile slowly returned. "It's what I try to keep 'round here. I see more of my regulars than half of my family," he laughed. "There's crazy Uncle Earl over there," he looked over his shoulder, pointing to a day time drunk who was already slipping at the bar.

    Even under Izzy's awestruck gaze, Titus acted as if it was all so normal to him. It was, whether an animal was on four legs or two, to assert his dominance. To keep the beasts in line. He glanced over as Izzy turned into a total sap over the dog, and the corner of his mouth hooked upward for it. She seemed to be in tune with the animal in a different aspect. He couldn't help the snicker that escaped when she asked the owner such a question, and he fought a roll of his eyes. "Careful with that one, she might just take him under your nose," he teased, the joke evident in his tone and smile.

    Titus' eyes lowered to the hound, meeting the gaze before he leaned in the chair to reach a hand out. Almost coyly, he smirked and gave a playful push to the muzzle with his palm, the husky retaliating with a rumbling, vocal grumble as he grazed teeth over Titus' hand. The man hardly seemed to mind, snickering before he glanced up to Izzy and the owner. He barked a laugh. "I've trained a few animals, I guess you could say. It's all about understandin' 'em. Gettin' into their heads, knowing how they work and communicate. Exes... I trained a few of Celine's," he smiled wolvishly. "They were pretty quick to learn how to behave." His eyes ticked to Celine coming out from behind the bar with a water dish for the dog and a drink for the man on the house, and the clue she'd heard him was the slow smirk poised on her lips as she glanced to her father. After all, she was the tender, and occasionally moonlighting as a waitress if the moment afforded her to. She didn't linger, didn't get in their way as she passed off the man's drink with a nod when he thanked her, setting down the water dish out of the walkway but close to the husky. She was soon returning to her post behind the bar with a glance toward Izzy as if sizing her up, but it was brief.

    The broad framed man tipped his head back when the raven haired woman came, and he smirked. "Thank ya, darlin'." She hummed a mhmm to him, but from the way he shrugged it off, it was pretty easy to discern she was often like this. Her attitude was something he'd known all her life. He claimed she came from her mother's womb with her hip cocked out and flipping the doctor the bird, and really, he wouldn't have it any other way. Just so long as she never crossed a line with him.

    His attention returned to the two bodies closest to him, a third if Rex was counted. Considering he still had his arm reached out, idly petting the shoulders of the dog as he sipped his whiskey. He watched the newcomer and Izzy interact, a mirthful smirk poised on his mouth behind the rim of the glass. He seemed amused by the way she blushed to the man simply asking her name, and the polite brush off to return to business. "By all means, don't let me deter ya," he chuckled. He was hardly one to talk.

    One brow arched, his head tilting to her sultry grin and the remnants of lust and awe in her crystal irises. "Well, darlin', I've learned plenty about you. I've witnessed the way you interact with beasts, no matter the number of legs they got." He gave a couple pats to Rex's hackles before he leaned forward, resuming his full attention on Izzy for the moment as he propped his forearms to the edge of the table like before. "Pass? You were hired at the diner," he grinned, informing her of that fact as he barked out a laugh. "This is just to get to know you, and I can't tell you what I want you to reveal. It's somethin' you gotta reveal on ya own." He lifted a thick index finger from his glass to point at her. "But since I'm feelin' generous, I'll give you a clue. Remember how you described this place, and consider everything up until this point." His eyes were fixed on hers, unblinking as if he could stare the answer into her eyes. "What's missin'?" He asked softer, hardly a whisper but close. His gaze was unfaltering as he lifted his glass to his lips, tipping it for a slow sip.
     
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  13. Iniquity

    Iniquity You can't tame me. Moderator

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    Isabelle noted the way Titus reacted upon learning her history. A hint of a smirk crossed her lips. "I did well for them, and I got paid enough to keep doing it. I would've died for my family," The blonde admitted softly, giving him a warm smile. "Oh I see, don't you miss your family?" The blonde couldn't help but chuckle as he pointed to crazy Uncle Earl. "Earl looks like he's going to go horizontal very soon," The blonde couldn't help chuckling as she watched him. Isabelle would certainly have stolen the dog, if she could hide it in her shirt. Somehow, she'd most likely end up cradling the dog like a baby and running as quickly as she could with a few people chasing her. Would it be worth it? She debated it genuinely.

    The female watched as Rex decided to seek more affection from Titus, it was heartwarming. The blonde let out a rather unhindered roar of laughter at hearing that he'd trained some of Celine's exes, the woman who seemed to have a permanent 'fuck you' look about her. Even her aura was ... dark, and nauseating. From the way they looked, Isabelle assumed Titus was her father or uncle, they looked to closely related for anything else. As she dropped off the dish, the blonde noticed her smirk. It was only upon seeing how she seemed so.. smug that the blonde could only assume it wasn't a good thing. When the female gazed toward her, Izzy's gaze didn't move. It was a true gaze of equals, no backing down, not until there was the situation dragging them both back into what they had been doing.

    Titus seemed all too keen to allow Isabelle to do whatever she wished, hopefully that meant their business agreement was already on, which meant she could certainly have some fun that night. She was desperate for it; the pain from the night before still rang out in her mind. All she wanted was to feel something, to have that washed away, a rebirthing almost. Thankfully, Titus proved to be a good distraction. The blonde couldn't help but chuckle at his observations, it seemed he liked the way she'd handled Rex. "I was?" A slight blush rose into her cheeks. "You dog, Titus. You've been pumping me for information." A warm chuckle escaped from her lips. As his gaze fixed on hers, the female listened intently to his words. What was missing? She recalled earlier in the day, and her drunken mind was already honing in on an idea, a shape, a figure. Large, powerful fangs, glowing golden orbs. But the savage appearance was already there.

    The answer wasn't what she was looking for in his gaze; she was just... captivated. There was something... there. "Wolf," Her soft whisper set a twinkle in her eye as she observed him. A slight smile crossed her lips, "No... you're already taking the role of beast and tamer." The woman gazed around the bar, before she cocked her brow at him slightly. "Women, more women." The blonde sighed softly, shaking her head. "It's all here, the feeling of something... wild.. untamed. The rustic bar. The home vibe." She was clearly on several trails of thought pretty quickly, and she couldn't seem to choose which. Isabelle meant every word of it. The bar was almost perfect. "Music." The female immediately flew off of her stool, making her way over to the sound system. She did contemplate a joke, but she then took a moment to pick something more serious.


    The blonde chuckled as the familiar music filled her ears; it seemed so fitting, but little did she know how fitting. The blonde reached to grab another shot as she began to sway her hips, humming along. "Annnddd I'm hungry likee theee wooolf." She sung, rather well considering, before knocking back another shot. "How about we get hammered, I could do with a night of forgetting. If only you could've trained my ex too." The blonde chuckled as she settled on the stool, grabbing the bottle and started to fill the glasses up once more. "I loved him, and he... seemed to love me but he left." A tired sigh escaped her. "Left me twice, in fact." A worn smile crossed her lips as tears threatened to sting in her eyes. "But what's life without pain?" She rose her shot glass as if to clink his before hurling the fluid back.

    As the music continued to play, the blonde couldn't help herself. She'd kicked off her heels and started to dance and sway to the music. There was hardly any grace, but she didn't care. "Come dance with me, Titus, come. Don't leave a girl all alone like this," It seemed that one of the wolves was interested, already rising with his drink to make his way over to the dancing blonde. "Well, he don't dance all that much darlin', you gotta persuade him further," The male chuckled softly. He was a fairly rough looking man, leather jacket, beaten up jeans and boots, fairly long beard. Not that she could take much in as her room began to spin. As she stumbled slightly, a soft giggle left her. The male's free hand caught her without hesitation; almost as if he moved within a blink.

    "W.. Why thank.. you... oh you're.. rather handsome." The blonde blushed slightly as she gazed up toward him. It seemed he returned the same idea of her, until she snaked his beer and began to chug it. "Whoa.. little lady... you don't just take a man's... Titus." The male glanced toward the Alpha, eyes indicating to Isabelle. "She's a handful." Of course, there was respect in his words, and he was speaking more from amusement. The blonde snickered slightly, hearing his words. "You... have no fucking idea, princess." The woman gave a firm shove to his chest, only to realise he didn't budge, almost at all. Confusion tore across her features. Before she could question him, his lips met hers in a fierce, warm embrace. All she could think of was how he felt more like Finn than anyone else she'd kissed; if she held on to that memory, she could feel as if it was him. In an instant, he dragged her around and forced her back up against a wall, causing a soft moan of approval from her lips.
     
  14. NobleSavage

    NobleSavage Sir Spikerton Community Helpers

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    "Sure, I miss family but I have more'n enough here. Family isn't just blood, Isabelle. It's where ya feel most at home. And here," Titus leaned back in his chair, spreading his arms in a wide birth for show. "Here is home. Celine is home, even the ever tippin' Uncle Earl is home. Those fools over there are home," he flashed a wolfish grin, pointing to the drinking group of men at a table. Someone seemed to have pulled out a knife and was playing hand roulette. He couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Idjits," he muttered, circling his gaze to fix on the blonde. His arms lowered but he remained leaned back, his shoulders rolling in a shrug. "And vice versa. Home is family. Don't gotta be related for that," he smirked.

    The look shared between the two girls had Titus ticking his eyes between them, a brief and subtle smile growing beneath the whiskers of his beard. "Careful, she may think you're challenging her." It was only a half-tease, and Celine had scowled for the way the blonde had kept her gaze. Almost haughtily turning her head away with a lift of chin as she found her way back to the bar. He boasted laughter when Izzy caught on, and he only flashed her a toothy grin. "Guilty. Ain't even gonna deny it," he chuckled. At least he was honest about it, not only about the dog comment but pumping her for information. "It worked though, di'nnit?" One eye closed in a wink.

    But he'd almost grown serious when it came time for her answer of what was missing. Intrigued and curious, he leaned forward with his forearms bracing on the table. He idly chewed on his bottom lip while she took the forked path of thoughts, and he tried to keep track of where her mind was heading. "We've established the wolf thing..." He agreed, nodding but let out an amused snort. "I won't disagree that we need more women here. It's a swamp of testosterone up in here," he snickered, falling silent as she seemed to be guiding herself in a particular direction. Watching her, following her trails of thought, it was entertaining. Especially with the haze of liquor to muddle them about. When she spoke of music, his brows soared, higher even when she jolted from her stool and took off. He blinked once, his gaze following her to the jukebox before he tilted his head. Turning, he waited to see what she'd pick... and about lost it when Duran Duran came flooding through the speaker system. His boisterous laughter came deep from the gut and quaked his massive shoulders, pure delight and amusement. The song itself was enough to get the blokes playing hand roulette a pause, knife in mid-air before a few laughed, a few rolled their eyes, and a couple stared at Isabelle before turning it onto Titus with a question in them. Does she know?

    The hound's head nodded slowly with a quirk of his lips pulling downward in that not bad way as she belted out the lyrics, he watched her return and the way she knocked back a shot. It instigated him pouring another himself, refusing to be shown up by a small blonde woman in the drinking department. He knocked it back, arching a brow as she went on about her sorrows. "What are ya tryna to forg--" He didn't finish the question before she told him. "Mhm..." He tilted his head, listening to her plight. "You've given him too much power over you, darlin'. Letting him wear you thin and brittle," he lifted the drink she poured for him, tipping it with a point of his finger in her direction. "If he ain't got the sense to stick around, he ain't worth... all'a this," he gestured over her, more her reaction than her in general. "You're too strong for that shit. Well established... fiery sort.." He smirked. "You got to much to give to waste it on someone who can't see it," he lifted his drink in something of a cheers motion before knocking it back in one heavy gulp that jumped his Adam's apple. "Life ain't shit without pain. It's how ya know you're livin'."

    There was no way of restraining the chuckle that bled through when she kicked off her heels, a true show of making herself at home and comfortable. For a moment, he caught himself watching the way her hips swayed, and ignored the muttering under Celine's breath that he and his fellow wolves could likely hear but doubtfully Isabelle. His attention was stolen to her face when she called to him, beckoned him to dance with her. In an instant, he considered it before one of his wolves took the initiative and made him smirk. As appealing as matching the sway of hips was, the wolf wasn't wrong. Rising to his feet, he chuckled. "He's right. It takes more than just a little Beam and nice hips to pull me into dancin'," he informed her, making his way to the bar. The bottle they'd been working on was getting low, and he brought it with him. Before he could say anything, Celine was already pulling another bottle from the shelf and working the cap off as he stretched a lean over the bar to watch the two dancing.

    "This is your grand idea?" Celine muttered to him, leaning her elbows on the bar as she slid the bottle to her father. Her eyes were trained on his face while he watched Isabelle with one of his underdogs.

    "Why not? She'll do just fine," he murmured, palming the bottle and pouring himself another drink.

    "If you call that fine," she hissed, disapproving in her tone as she watched Izzy take the man's beer. "She's making a damn fool of herself."

    Titus seemed to think differently, and he flashed the male wolf a grin, chuckling. "She is, isn't she? Ain't we all here?" The men shared a laugh as he turned his eyes to his daughter, a stern expression hardening his face. "I seem to recall many a time you've made a fool of yourself and me in the process, so don't throw stones ya can't hold," he growled lowly, a flash of gold flickering in his irises like candlelight. Celine bit her tongue, her jaw tensing before she made a face to hearing the girl call the wolf princess. "You're a hound, sweetheart. Stop being so damn catty," Titus laughed softly, making Celine shoot him a glare and bristle before storming toward the kitchen. He smirked, knowing exactly how to get under her skin and make her walk away. When his eyes found Izzy with the wolf again, she was up against the wall and kissing him. "Careful, you tryna get her pregnant with a kiss like that?" He teased, barking out a laugh before he stilled, his head tilting and nostrils twitching. His head turned toward the doorway just a heartbeat before a man waltzed into the bar.

    The man in question was much like the one Izzy was kissing. Bearded, large in size but not nearly as large as Titus. His worn and torn jeans were slung low on his hips and he sported a soft grey v-neck tee that looked soft to the touch in it's cotton fabric. Over it, he wore the trenchcoat he'd been sporting the night before and his hair was an untamed flow of waves that seemed to have just been swept to the side carelessly. His evergreen gaze drifted over the bar, but ultimately lingered on Titus who was grinning wolfishly at him.

    "Well, look what the cat dragged in."

    "You know I hate that phrase, Titus," Finn scowled, and over the musk of hounds, it was hard to catch onto Izzy's scent or really look much into it. After all, she'd been there the night before. He passed it off as he made his way toward the bar, but he stopped instantly seeing one of the wolves sucking face with a blonde. No... it's not...
     
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  15. Iniquity

    Iniquity You can't tame me. Moderator

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    Titus seemed like the father figure she'd never had; aside from the fact that he was so handsome; if she wasn't so hung up on a man she felt she'd never even get to touch again, she'd be trying her luck. Isabelle just needed to feel anything but the pain in her heart; and anyone that could give her relief was considered a better choice. The way Titus complimented her form, well, it was flattering. His wise words didn't evade her; they sank in despite the alcohol. Unfortunately, he seemed to read her better than she could read herself, and it was something she wasn't used to. Pain did remind her that she was living, she could relate to that. It just pained her, obviously. How much pain could she live through? The blonde did notice the way he knocked back another drink, she almost had sat down before her dancing antics; she wouldn't forget they both had to keep drinking, and she had to try and beat him, even to her detriment.

    It had delighted her that he seemed to find her getting comfortable highly amusing; it was the real Izzy. For as long as she could remember, Isabelle was someone who was blunt and enjoyed just thriving; her life had been far too restricting lately. What she should do, how she was supposed to act, who she was supposed to be. Thankfully, Isabelle didn't hear the vicious comments coming from the darker haired female. She did however notice their gazes, but thankfully her attention was on the rugged man before her. He wasn't Finn, but he was close. He was as close as she was going to get; who knew if she'd ever see Finn again? She couldn't live her life for him, she couldn't let him ruin what she had now, could she? She had to LIVE. Even if it meant without him.

    The female barely heard Titus's comment, but part of it got through. A soft snort echoed from her as she began to place her hands up against his chest. It was clear that he'd stopped her before she could ask about his reflexes, and it had certainly distracted her enough from thinking about it again. Isabelle was far too concerned with easing the man from her to notice a new comer. "I've ... way too much to drink to..." The blonde snickered softly, she'd missed a word. The rugged male laughed in a husky tone as he gave a nod, "Sure thing darlin', but you owe me a beer." The man nodded to her hand, that held the empty glass. Isabelle gave a warm chuckle before rolling her eyes, "Fine, a beer," The woman agreed before letting him lead her from the wall back toward the bar. Isabelle was in a haze, barely able to make a straight line. The alcohol was hitting her hard, and fast. The blonde almost wobbled as the male guided her to a stool. "Sure you don't wanna get that ass to bed?" He snickered softly, watching as she grabbed the new bottle Titus had taken and poured herself another shot. "I gotta beat the top dog first." Isabelle flashed a cheeky wink toward Titus before knocking back another shot with a slight hiss. "Doesn't get .. easier though." The blonde muttered with a soft cough.

    Isabelle beamed toward Titus. "You didn't tell me what was missing," The woman offered a smile to Titus as she caught a glimpse of someone... familiar. Her stomach immediately turned, knots forming as she allowed her gaze to turn. It couldn't be. An oath almost left her lips as her gaze settled on Finn. There was a glimmer behind her eyes; pain. It was the kind of pain that would be noticed by someone who'd felt it, there was a distinct twitch of her lip and haze over her luminescent blue orbs. It caused her to lose interest in the male beside her, who she swiftly ordered a beer for without thinking too much about the man she'd vowed to move on from only minutes before. It just had to be him, didn't it? Instead of focusing on him, Izzy tried her best to remain as interested in the rugged man who'd claimed her lips; at least he didn't seem to be the one to leave her drunk and on the street. Well, maybe he'd try and climb into her bed, but at least she could swat him away. What she really needed to do was show Finn she wasn't going to be hung up on him; that he couldn't hurt her anymore.

    "So, princess, how about you join us in some shots?" The female gazed toward the man who seemed all too keen to pull up a stool beside her. "That's Clint to you, doll. Wouldn't want to make me spank your little ass for being cheeky now would ya?" A rather unexpected laugh escaped her, causing a swell of pink in her cheeks before she poured a fresh shot, taking the glass that was kindly offered and started pouring Clint one. "You're not stopping either Titus." The blonde eyed him before turning to Finn. "What about you princess? Gonna join us?" The female leaned herself up in the stool before bending over the bar. Her firm, slender form lay over the hard wooden bar as she snagged another shot glass and eased back, finishing the drinks and leaving a rather small amount of fluid on the bar top. Izzy slid the shots to the males, "To good business." The female eyed Titus with a rather wicked smirk, "And to amazing bosses." With that, she rose the glass to her lips before slamming it back with a practiced ease. Thankfully, the alcohol was being absorbed so fast that it was beginning to ease her tolerance for the burning fluid. No doubt she'd be on the floor soon.

    Izzy took a moment to steady herself on the bar before reaching for the bottle. She'd never truly drowned herself in the way she was doing now. Even as she sat there on the stool, she wobbled slightly. Her whole world was spinning. "C'mon Isabelle, you've had enough. Nobody can drink as much as Titus, you've done good though, doll." The familiar husky voice gave her a soft snicker. "Bollocks I've had enough, I can still keep going." Her gaze followed closely as she poured another shot, filling any other empty glasses before she placed the bottle back down. "I'm a grown ass ... woman. I .. I dknow when I'.... had enough." The female frowned slightly at her words before giving a pout. "Yup, you're done, princess." The male leaned over and grabbed the bottle before sliding it down the bar. "Ey, Celine, can we get a coffee over here?" Clint gazed toward her and Titus; clearly Isabelle was far gone, especially as the alcohol was still registering in her system.

    "No! Titus... tell 'im," The female offered a pout. As Clint rose to offer her his hand, the blonde slipped from the stool in effort to evade him. "NOPE!" The woman bolted, in a very... uneven line as she tried avoid his grasp. Clearly, he was using a very human speed with her. As he caught onto her shirt, the female rather unflatteringly just ripped the buttons open and slipped out of it. The lace bra seemed to cover the majority of her breasts, aside from the very top of her supple breasts. Clint just stared toward her, holding up her shirt almost in question. "No ma'am, you're gonna run outta clothes, c'mon. Let's get you home." Isabelle shook her head, blonde curls falling over her frame. "Well ... if you wanna fight princess." The woman was clearly in no state; and she was making a complete ass of herself. The old Izzy was coming through; she didn't give a shit what people thought, and usually nobody stood in her way.

    "Hey pupper, you want me to stay, don'tcha boy?" The husky's ears pricked up, immediately trotting over toward her like a faithful boy. "I can't upset the wolf, he'll go rabid." Isabelle's cheeky smile emerged, igniting her eyes with a luminescence that was rather unique. As the dog approached her, it just began to lap along her cheeks, giving her many affectionate kisses. Isabelle wrapped her arms around the large mutt, cuddling him before ruffling between his ears. "See, he's a vicious attack dog." Rex's owner laughed, shaking his head. "Or he just wants to help a very drunk woman," He added. Isabelle snorted, falling onto her ass, which only coaxed Rex to hover over her lap and settled down on her. "Oh shit he's... very heavy... and very warm..." The blonde eased her back against the wall as the husky nuzzled his head up along her chest, his body curled as small as it could along her lap. In that moment, it was as if he could've sensed her pain; despite the way she concealed it. That animal knew; as most did around her. He was there to comfort her. Even in his body language, it was soft, tender. The kisses, the way he nuzzled against her. Even as he looked up to her with his large blue orbs; he was monitoring her.

    "If only you men were as loyal as this dog," The female snickered softly, offering a tender kiss to Rex's nose. "The night has only just begun, hasn't it boy?" The husky gave a soft snort, which caused her to raise a brow. "Don't even, not in that tone." It was as if she was communicating with the animal, their body language and communication seemed exactly right. It was... strange to say the least. The dog wasn't trained, but Isabelle somehow knew what he meant. "You know exactly what I'm saying, don'tcha boy?" The female's fingers caressed along the creature's maw, watching as she seemed to hit a spot he enjoyed, causing him to close his eyes. "Hey, sure Rex doesn't need any day care?" The female chuckled as the dog gazed up toward her and then to his owner. "I think I just need a dog of my own," The blonde gazed toward the dog that was rather comfy in her lap. Her comment seemed to cause a laugh from Clint. "Keep getting half naked over here and you'll have one in no time." It didn't even register with her what he meant.
     
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  16. NobleSavage

    NobleSavage Sir Spikerton Community Helpers

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    After the night before, Finn had every intention of severing ties with Celine. Not only because she'd manipulated his wolf, abused the closeness of the moon's rising to get what she wanted out of him... but the all too real reminder of Isabelle that had manifested itself in the flesh at the bar. It'd stirred up emotions he'd sought to swallow for the past few years, and made things all too clear in the aspects of Celine. Just how much she wasn't the one he wanted, and likely wouldn't want another woman the same. After spending the day fuming about the encounter with the she-wolf last night, he was bristled and angry... Walking in there to tell them both to go fuck themselves. Inform them that he wasn't going to be around much longer...

    But seeing Isabelle in her current state: hammered off her ass with the wolves he had intended to break himself away from... there was no way he could just walk away a third time. She was vulnerable, intoxicated, and seemed to be a central focus of a wolves den. And a main focus of the Alpha in question as well, being pawed at by one of his flunkies. It stirred the wolf in his chest, even if he had no reason to be jealous or angry. She could do what she wanted... with whom she wanted... but the fact that the whom in question shifted into a carnivorous creature on four legs every moon... it was cause for concern. She was throat deep in the same creatures that he'd walked away to save her from.

    Titus hadn't missed the look on Finn's face either once he realized the blonde he was staring at was in fact Izzy. One brow arched high before his line of sight was slid over to the blonde as well, but he didn't comment. Instead, they both watched her break away from Clint and return to the bar, Finn's gaze averting with the painful tension hidden beneath the scruff of his beard. The Alpha snorted hearing Izzy's claim, giving her a look to show for it. "What makes ya think you got the stomach to beat the top dog, darlin'?" He teased, making a point of knocking back his glass as she worked on refilling hers. Exchanges were made, and Finn glanced back to her in all his stoic silence to being called princess and if he was going to join. "You can barely stand, don't you think you've had enough?" He mumbled, turning toward the bar as he shook his head. As much as he wanted to turn around and walk out the same way he'd come, he knew damn well that wasn't in his cards tonight. No more running. As it turns out, the one she really needed saving from tonight was herself.

    "Don't be like that, join in." Titus piped, just to snicker at Izzy. "He ain't all that wrong, though. You keep tryin' to beat me... you're gonna wind up spendin' the night getting your stomach pumped or kill ya liver. I can still walk a straight line if I gotta," he warned her, shaking his head.

    Finn was smoothing his hands over his face in some way to collect himself, and failing when he heard the all too grating voice of Celine as she came out of the kitchen with a pot of coffee. "Earl climbin' under the table yet or -- oh. Should've known," she grumbled, turning her eyes onto Finn with a slow, razor sharp smirk. "Hey you."

    "Not now, Celine," Finn growled under his breath, just to pull his hands from his face to the sight of Izzy slipping away from Clint... without her shirt. Celine barked out a laugh, but it wasn't quite as genuine in her amusement as it sounded condescending. "I don't even think coffee will save this one at this poi--" She was cut off by deep, thunderous growl from Finn. One fine brow soared as she cocked her hip out. "Excuse me?"

    "Should I get some popcorn, or....?" Titus was looking in all directions - the back and forth between Celine and Finn, Finn's reaction to Isabelle, Clint's almost too strong desperation to get his dick wet and Izzy... well, yes. Making a complete ass of herself. He was grinning behind his glass, enjoying being up front to so much chaos. He breathed it in, basked in it. "Tonight just keeps getting better and better..." he murmured as he slurped down more liquor.

    All eyes lowered to the shirtless woman's sudden attention being drawn to the furrier of the canines in the room, and it took all that Finn had not to palm at his face. Titus barked out a laugh as the drunken woman got all cozy with the hound, and Celine couldn't help but to roll her eyes. "Oh, for fucks sake. Will someone just take her home already?" She put the pot of coffee down on the counter, finding it a fruitless effort to try to get the blonde to drink any of it. Not that she was all hands on deck with the helping her out, she already didn't like her. "Clint?" She smiled, wolfish in it's appearance and should've held sharper teeth with the glint in her eyes. "How about you?" Just stirring more of the shit pot with her batting lashes as if he was the prime candidate. Just get the bitch out of the bar...

    Finn winced hearing Izzy's remark of loyalty, and he knew it was a jab towards him. As subtle as it was. Titus flicked a glance towards him, just in time to catch the tension in the man's jowls, the look he shot Celine that was meant to be subtle for her telling Clint to take her home. He could feel the shift in power in Finn, the call of the inner wolf that made Titus' smile only turn more chaotic. Pieces of the puzzle were being fixed into place, and he was sure he was the only one who'd noticed it so far. Finn's muscles bunching beneath the jacket, the way his hands flexed at his sides the more Clint spoke to Izzy - but it was more how he spoke to Izzy. As if she was a piece of steak he wanted to sink his teeth into, nothing more and nothing less. His body vibrated with the strict tension of him barely containing his control, and Titus eyed him from the side like a spectator waiting for the boxer to snap.

    Taking deep breaths, Finn tried to collect himself, control himself. He considered taking a shot of liquor just to swallow the growl rising in his throat.... but all bets were off when Clint made his last fateful remark to Izzy. His eyes flew open, narrowing instantly as his lips curled with a snarl. "You son of a bitch..." He hissed, stepping around Titus and Izzy alike as Celine's jaw went slack. The untamed wolf was storming toward Clint who gave him one questioning look - probably wondering what the fuck twisted his boxers - a split second before Finn reeled his fist back and sent it forward with enough force to smack loudly against his mouth, knocking his head back before he stumbled backwards. Ultimately, knocking him hard onto his back with a thump. "What the fuck!" He spat, pushing up as his head turned to spit a glob of bloody spit onto the floor. Finn's responding snarl was drowned out by Titus' barking, delighted laughter as he descended onto Clint, practically straddling him as he knocked blow after blow to his face.

    "What the fuck is going on?" Celine barked, her eyes widening as she gestured to the fight, looking at Titus who was too busy leaning on the bar in a chuckling fit. "I don't know... but Clint's gonna be hurtin' in the mornin'," the Alpha rasped out through his laughter, looking down at Izzy with a knowing look. He didn't call her out... but there was something of realization there. And the puzzle just gets more and more interesting....
     
    Last edited: Aug 6, 2018
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  17. Iniquity

    Iniquity You can't tame me. Moderator

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    Isabelle was so unaware of what was going on around her. The blonde was almost lost in the waves of intoxication that seemed to be growing stronger. Her lashes drifted down, embracing the warmth of the husky perched her lap. The female was almost passed out by the time she heard a commotion. What she heard first was the booming laughter of the older man, Titus. It drew her back to reality as she snapped to see Finn landing several punches into Clint. The female took a moment to register before a groan left her lips. "Finn..." She huffed softly, immediately glancing to the dog and ushering him from her lap. It seemed like Finn was a wild animal; he was slamming his fists relentlessly into the male, forcing him into a stage of a broken nose and most likely a horrible taste of blood. "Go back to your owner," The female whispered to Rex, which caused the dog to glance to her, then at the scene before trotting off.

    The blonde rose, shakily at that. "HEY!" She snapped, wobbling over toward the pair. Before Finn could land another punch, the female slipped to his side, her fingers brushed up along his back as she gave him a tender caress, it was something she usually had done when they were in bed. "Finn, please." Her voice weakened slightly as she gazed over him. This wasn't the man she knew; he wasn't as... reckless. As vicious. Her breath held in her throat as she leaned down to caress his jaw, her fingers feathering along him as she tried to lure his view toward her. "Hey, hey," The female's soft voice trailed between them. When she gazed down toward Clint, she could already see the forming damage. "Finn, you're going to kill him, stop! He was just being crude." The female argued softly, her oceanic blue orbs searching Finn's face for a sign of his compliance with her request. "Please, for me," Her words fell to a whisper, gently trying to lure him to his feet.

    It seemed that he'd stopped punishing Clint, and it was the perfect time. "Just come take a breath," The blonde reached out to take his hand in hers with the most tender of touches. Despite her shaky balance, she managed to step back toward the doors, guiding him with her. The blonde eased out of the bar, stumbling into the large double doors before holding one open for Finn. Once they were out of prying ears, or so she thought, the female swallowed hard. "Look, Finn..." Her breath hitched in her throat as the sadness finally was exposed on her features again. "You can't... You can't go doing that.." The female pressed herself back against the building, steadying herself against the cold brick wall. It gave her some comfort. It didn't stop her from hooking her hand to his waistband and giving him a gentle tug to get closer to her.

    It was clear she'd missed that he'd been hit too, even if it seemed brief or minor compared to what he'd given to Clint. "You can get arrested for this..." the female shook her head. "It's not worth... I shouldn't... be here." The female wobbled slightly against the wall before her gaze lingered on him, noticing the redness on his lip. A soft sigh escaped her lips as one of her hands rose to caress her fingertips along his lower lip, offering a hint of a pout. "I know what I felt last night... I know you still love me, there's no way you would... touch me like that," The blonde stared up toward him, leaning into his form as she assessed his lip further. "I certainly don't want you.. being hurt for me. Or killing someone over some dumbass comments." The blonde snorted softly, "I kissed him because he reminded me of you. Before he opened his mouth..." The female slipped her arms up along the male before her lips pressed tenderly against his own. It was bold, but she couldn't stop herself. The drink was taking hold of her; emotions were stronger than logic.

    Her lips danced along his, softly caressing before her teeth nipped along his lower lip in a rather familiar, playful action. "... I .. never stopped... loving you. I miss you. When you left a part of me... it went with you." Her words were tender as she gazed up toward him, offering a warm smile. It was only then that she glanced down to notice the swell of her breasts. "Oh... right." A soft laugh escaped her as she noticed she was also shoe-less. "Care to take me home, clearly I've... had a bit too much to drink..." A rather playful smile crossed her lips as she maintained eye contact, even if it was weak. "Mmm.. wait." The blonde leaned back up to connect her lips with his. This time, her tongue caressed along his lower lip, flicking over the broken flesh in an effort to ease the pain. "I'm good to go..." She whispered against his lips, her glimmering orbs gazing up toward him. Part of her wondered if he'd leave her again, but the whole of her wished he wouldn't.

     
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  18. NobleSavage

    NobleSavage Sir Spikerton Community Helpers

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    From an outside perspective, it looked like Finn had lost his damn mind. Hell, even to him it felt he had. He had no control to pull back as his vision was bled through with red. The only thing he could think about was the wolf beneath him that had spoken to Izzy with such blatant crudeness, the look in Clint's eyes toward the blonde, and how he treated her like a piece of meat. Growls tore out of him, harmonizing with Clint's yelps, barks and curses as he dove fist over fist against the man's face. He wasn't saved from any backlash, though. Some of his blows were swept aside and returned. He felt Clint's knuckles knock into his bottom lip and chin, but it only seemed to fuel the anger that thrummed through him and made him tremble. He kept coming.

    "Titus! Get this damn psycho off me!" Clint barked, but the older man only shook his head. "Fuck you waitin' for? Christmas? Hit 'em back, ya dumbass," Titus spat, disappointment clear in his tone as he refilled his drink. "I ain't gonna pull your ass out of the fi... re..." Celine had been chewing her bottom lip, almost admiring the way Finn berserked on Clint, leaned on the bar with her chin propped in her hand and a chaotic smirk on her face. In that moment, she looked at him like a piece of meat.

    Though, both sets of eyes from the Larouche family turned on Izzy when she groaned and stood up, watching her intently. "Wouldn't get involved if I were you, darlin'," Titus muttered behind his glass, but she silenced him quickly and indirectly by what she did next.

    Finn seemed like a lost cause, having lost it completely on top of Clint. Up until she placed her hand on Finn's back and the muscle bunched beneath her hand like she'd shocked him with her touch. His hand stilled in mid-air, the other fist remaining clenched in Clint's shirt. The man beneath him stared up with already swelling lids, his nose crooked and smeared with blood, his lip split and swollen from the initial hit that put him in the predicament in the first place. Finn's chest heaved with deep breaths, nostrils flaring as the red in his vision bled out to normal and he could hear Izzy's soft and soothing voice instead of what sounded like crashing waves in his ears. "He was being an asshole," he retorted to her claim, muttering softly as he felt her hand caressing his jaw and trying to gain his attention.

    Slowly, his head turned to look up at her, and she more than likely missed the flicker of orange-gold in his irises like the wave of a candle's wick being snuffed out beneath her touch. His eyes scoured her face, his own tense and angry. Within seconds, staring into her eyes and her gentle coaxing softened his expression into something of tired nostalgia. The tender touches and soft crooning voice she spoke to him with, it summoned thoughts of before he'd walked out on her. Before this storm of bullshit blew over them both, before he was a beast caged in flesh. Finn was never known to be a violent man. He'd beat a man's ass if he deserved it or started something, but he wasn't so... reckless. He'd sooner drag an idiot starting a bar brawl outside and play bouncer or talk down a situation than be the kind of man to throw the first punch. Here, tonight, he was nothing like he once was. He was aggressive, untamed, and had flipped like a switch.

    Ultimately, what got him to lower his fist was the final request. Please, for me. It softened the harshness at the edges of his eyes, made his fist lower then loosen as he released a slow breath. "Okay, okay," he breathed, nodding as he roughly pushed Clint down and rose to his feet with her coaxing. Feeling her hand in his, and her luring voice, it loosened the constricting of his chest, soothed the raking claws of the beast trying to make it's way out. Refusing to make eye contact with Titus or Celine, even as the older wolf stared with a raised brow and Celine's jaw looked like it would break from the pressure of clenching her teeth, he followed Izzy outside hand in hand. Celine bristled, having heard her speak the hound's name like she knew him - and knew him for some time since she used his real name, she took a step like she was going to follow before Titus shot her a look. "Sit your ass down." With a low rumble, she did just that, huffily sitting on a stool beside him. "I need this," she spat, snatching the bottle away from him, promptly swallowing straight from the bottle's mouth.

    His head was lowered as the drunk blonde managed to get him out of the bar, he let out a breath as she started. "Izzy...." He didn't know what to say, and fell silent as he turned to face her on the dimming sidewalk. "I didn't have plans to," he grumbled in admittance, letting out a grunt as she tugged him forward by his waist. It was the first thing to move forward for his legs and torso followed, his hand catching on the wall beside her so he didn't just stumble into her. "Not likely," he murmured, of being arrested. "But I won't deny you shouldn't be here," he fixed his gaze on her, his eyes tired and pained. It had little to do with the split in his lip that left a trickle of blood smudging the corner of his mouth into his beard.

    His eyes lowered to the movement of her hands, wincing slightly when she touched his busted lip but didn't pull away or stop her. His eyes ticked to her own mouth as she spoke, calling him out. They averted for a moment, which said everything he couldn't say. As much as he should tell her no, he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to blatantly lie to her face like that. He did still love her, and tonight only proved it more. He hadn't went into a rage over Clint for the sheer principle. "He shouldn't have talked to you like that..." He murmured, turning his eyes back to her. He wrinkled his nose when she spoke of kissing him, and looked disgusted for a moment. "Him? I feel like I should insulted by that... My beard is better than his... Fucker," he grumbled, glancing toward the door with a slight narrow of his eyes before they flicked right on back to Izzy, attention drawn by the way her arms moved up, and he was caught off guard all over again by the tender press of her lips to his own. He stared at her, stunned all over again. He'd been expecting to be scolded, chewed out, raged at like before... but here she was. Intoxicated and kissing him again. The woman was starting to build a pattern with him, but it was only mirroring his own desires. He wasn't drunk, but he'd be lying if the very sight of her didn't urge his want to sweep her up into his arms and kiss her like he used to.

    As illogical and stupid he found it to be, he found his lids lowering and him leaning into her kiss. It was impossible not to kiss the woman back, and there wasn't enough will power left in him to fight it. The nip to his bottom lip only pulled a grunt from him, followed by a rumble in his chest that he hoped she was too drunk to notice. Before he could retaliate for it, her words left him staring her in the eyes, making him still completely before he rolled his eyes closed. "I... dammit, Iz. I never stopped loving you," he muttered. "I left a piece o' me behind when I left.. but I... I can't.." he shook his head slowly, trailing off to words he couldn't summon. His eyes opened as she took that breath, and she drew his attention downward as he snickered. "You still got that habit of losin' your clothes... and ya weren't even drinkin' Tequila..." he teased her gently, lightheartedly. His eyes lifted to hers as his hand found her waist, drawing her into the opening of her jacket once he realized she was without a shirt. Protective, but not quite possessive. After all, if they were going to be arrested tonight, it would be for indecent exposure! "Clearly..." he agreed, peering down at her but he took a breath, nodding. "Yeah, Iz. I'll take you home." He'd left her twice, and each time had killed a piece of him. He couldn't bring himself to walk away from her a third, or he feared there'd be nothing left. He couldn't hurt her again, and after tonight... well, he wasn't the only beast he had to worry about now. "Hm?" He paused, his lids closing to the swabbing of her tongue over his busted lip, returning the kiss reluctantly as if he couldn't stop himself. "Alright, dammit, woman," he grumbled at her, "let's go before we get arrested for somethin' other than fist fighting." For a moment, he realized how that sounded, but he shook his head. "Here," he muttered, leaning up from her as he peeled his jacket from his shoulders. Swinging it around, he settled it over hers before realizing she was without shoes too. Shaking his head, he hooked one arm behind her back and swept the other beneath her legs. "You puke on me, I'm tossin' you in the river," he warned her with a look that said he... probably, mostly wouldn't do it. Maybe just dunk her a little bit. Hoisting her up in a princess carry, he did his best not to jostle her too much before he started walking. "Where you staying? I kinda need directions of where home is..." He pointed out, glancing down at her.
     
    Last edited: Aug 6, 2018
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  19. Iniquity

    Iniquity You can't tame me. Moderator

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    [​IMG]

    Izzy was too intoxicated to comment back to his remark about her not being there, she wanted to inform him that she had been invited. However, that was an issue for another day. His words only confirmed her thoughts; he still loved her. And it made her so happy to know that. Not from her own thoughts, but confirmation through his words. She hadn't lost him, not in the way she'd thought. "You're far more handsome, and yes, your... beard is superior," Her words slurred slightly as she offered a playful smile; there was nobody that could replace Finn. Nobody at all. Even though he seemed surprised by her actions; Isabelle didn't hinder. As much as she wanted to be angry; she couldn't be. He was the one person she craved; the only man she felt she'd ever needed. There wasn't a way that she could truly hate or even dislike him; no. She loved him. Beyond what was logical, beyond her instincts telling her that he wouldn't have left without a good reason.

    A hum of pleasure escaped her as she felt him ease into the kiss; he was giving her more than he knew by returning her affection. The blonde noticed exactly what her words did to him; and she hated it. "You can't?" Her voice almost cracked as she stared up toward him. His next comment had the female laughing warmly, "Not yet.." The blonde gave him a rather charming smile before a deeper emotion took hold the moment his hands brushed along her waist. The warmth of his chest was just as she remembered; like home. He'd agreed to take her home, a swell of joy rose in her heart as she gazed up toward him. The familiar smirk crossed her lips as she felt him give into another kiss as she lapped her tongue against his wound. His words almost made her chuckle. "Well, we never did it in an alley like this." The blonde pointed out before she felt the warmth of his jacket slip around her petite shoulders. It was almost laughable at how large it was for her. "Hey!" She started as he swept his arm under her knees. A tender squeal left her lips as he picked her up in a familiar position.

    Isabelle curled into his hold, her head nestling against his shoulder. "You'd never throw me in, I can't swim like this." A soft smirk covered her lips as she nuzzled in closer to his neck. He smelled as good as he always did; there was just something different she couldn't pinpoint. "Mmmm, where do you live?" The female knew she was pushing it. He seemed to want space, still. Even as much as he indulged in her advances. "Marriott, few blocks down," The female groaned softly, "I feel sick," A slow smirk crept up over her lips as she gazed up toward him; she was taunting him. "You're so warm... like a big teddy bear." The female almost purred as she snuggled further, her lips resting near the crook of his neck. "I've missed you so much... These strong arms... the same scent. The beard was always nice to snuggle up to.." The female couldn't help but nip lightly at his neck, teasing the flesh between her teeth.

    The journey back to the hotel was blurry; the female could barely keep herself from dozing off a little in the warm, gentle embrace she'd been missing for so long. Thankfully, her actions didn't seem to bother her. "Room 146." The female murmured softly into his neck as she noticed the bright lights of the hotel coming into her vision. The woman didn't seem to mind as he carried her up to her room, but the moment he put her down the female almost stomped her foot like a child having a tantrum. "No, no." Isabelle's tone hardened as she gazed toward him, seeing that he was going to leave. Her fingers hooked into his shirt and dragged him inside before closing the door with a firm foot to the door. The room had been cleaned while she was out; it was fresh and welcoming. The dim lighting gave a relaxing vibe, and rather alluring as the bathroom was lit a little lighter than the main room.

    [​IMG]
    Once she made her way through the hall, the female began to shed his jacket, casting it onto the plush, welcoming bed. "You can't leave me, I may not be able to swim." Her comment seemed a bit strange, but as soon as she entered the bathroom, it became more clear. The tabs to the tub gushed to life; a mix of hot and cool water streamed out while the female added an immense about of bubble bath; it was about half the bottle she'd been provided. "Remember when we used to shower together?" The female purred, her memories flooded with happiness and joy as she thought of their morning antics. Once the bubbles began to form, she started to unbutton her jeans, wobbling as she tried to force them down. Twice, she almost fell face first into the bath before she finally kicked them off. She was still in her underwear, well fitted nude lace. "Stay the night with me," The female commanded and she slipped, rather ungracefully, into the tub with a large splash. "For old times sake, you don't even have to touch me." The female raised her hands as if she was being arrested, a warm smile covering her lips as she spoke, "I swear officer, no funny business."

    The moment he got into close enough range, the blonde pooled up the bubbles into her hand and blew them toward him. A flurry of glistening bubbles filled the air as the female sank lower into the water. It was a deep tub, the water lapped against her skin and threatened to take her over. Isabelle hadn't even noticed the tub was filling to it's limit, which was hinted by the water splashing over the edge as she flopped around as gracefully as a salmon swimming upstream. "BUBBBLESS." The female yelled before grabbing more, blowing them toward her ex with a cheerful giggle before sinking back down, causing more of a splash. "Oh no.... I'm making a mess." The woman grinned as she slipped lower in the tub. "QUICK, FINN, I CAN'T SWIM." The female threw her hands up before she disappeared under the water. The tub was a tight fit, but it would work with two people. The moment he got close enough, if he did, the female would breach the surface and splash him in a rather playful manner before easing against the side of the tub, biting on her lower lip. Isabelle gave a soft, playful growl. "The kraken awakens!" She couldn't help her laughter as she eyed him. "I heard... that sound... Earlier." The woman was almost in awe. "What kinky shit have you been getting into? Because it's hot.."

    Water dripped along her curved, lithe form. Her underwear and bra were almost see-through, the lace clung to her in desperation. "Gonna join me sailor? The kraken could come back at any moment now.."
     
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  20. NobleSavage

    NobleSavage Sir Spikerton Community Helpers

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    [​IMG]

    "Don't go puttin' those thoughts in my head, woman," Finn grumbled at her for commenting about the alley. "Or ya gonna make me a hypocrite for what I just did in there.." He muttered, shaking his head. It was pretty obvious she still had that hold on him. It was too easy to direct his thoughts to how right she felt pressed against him. How warm, how comfortable... The most Finn had ever felt at home was when he was with Izzy, and these past few years... part of the reason he kept roaming was that he couldn't really find a place to call home. He couldn't settle down. The only place he called home, he'd left behind. Without her, everywhere else - everyone else was simply... a temporary place to lay. Whether it be four walls or a woman's thighs. And he was gone in a blink of an eye thereafter. That harsh reality was all too clear when he felt like he could breathe again with Izzy close to him, touching him.

    The corner of his mouth hooked to her tender squeal, and it was the first glimmer of life that shined in his eyes since she'd seen him. It was a familiar sound, usually when he got her by surprise, sweeping her off her feet. The way she'd curled into him was comfortable, familiar, nostalgic. He almost didn't realize it when he lowered his head, nuzzling into her hair and tickling her scalp with his beard until he caught the scent of her shampoo and simply her strongly in his nose. He lifted his head as he walked, snickering. "Fine, I wouldn't... only 'cause you're plastered. Don't mean I won't give ya a good dunk or drop you in a puddle," he wrinkled his nose. But that was a lie too. He wouldn't do that either. At least not tonight, in her condition. "Not in the direction we're goin'," he remarked about where he lived, glancing down at her with a lift of brow. She told him the place, and he hooked a left to cross the street, making to take a shortcut. "Don't even think about it," he eyed her suspiciously. "You gotta ralph, you better turn your head the other way," he snorted, just to roll his eyes softly with a growing smirk. "And you're like... a clumsy, drunk squirrel," he hummed his tease in return, lowering his eyes down his cheekbones at her. The way she snuggled into him, his lids lowered but didn't close. Tripping over something or running into a pole wouldn't do any good in his current fleshy taxi service. "I missed you, Iz," he muttered, admitting. There was no point in lying to her at this point. "Even you cuddling up to my beard," he snickered, smirking coyly at her. "Ngh... Isabelle..." He hissed softly, scolding her in a half-assed way that he hardly even meant as she started in on his neck. Mostly because it was difficult to control himself with her as it was, this close to the moon, and she smelled so good... even though he mostly smelled liquor on her at this point, but close enough to her scalp to get her true scent.

    The rest of the walk to her hotel was rather quiet, and he caught himself watching her periodically as she dozed off. The way she curled against his chest, snuggled into his coat. It was the sleeping face he'd missed waking up to these past few years, the one that haunted him and the one that had him leaving the other women when he woke up and realized they weren't her. He left them without a word, without a note. But he felt nothing with them. The only one who'd left an imprint in his life had been the woman in his arms now. Finally, they reached the hotel, and once they slipped inside, her mutter of the room number was helpful. No, he didn't have intention of dropping her off at the front desk. Have fun, man! Bye! He'd at least bring her up to her room before trying to leave.

    He had every intention of not sticking around either, after putting her down on her feet and making sure she was steady. "I'll get in touch with you, Iz---ngh..." He'd turned, but not made it far when he felt the back of his shirt get caught. He huffed, almost stumbling back as she reeled him inside by the back of his shirt. "This ain't a good idea... you know it's not," he muttered the whole time, seeing the door get kicked shut before he turned around once inside. Squinting as she started down the hallway, it was growing more and more difficult to think sensibly. Logic stated that he should put her into bed.. not climb in himself, and leave her to sleep off her intoxication. But his heart told him to at least make sure she reached the bed and didn't pass out somewhere ridiculous. Swiping his hand over his face with a low grumble, he followed after her down the hall, watching her shed his jacket and toss it to the bed. For a moment, he had a rather vivid image, a memory more like... on more than one occasion they left a trail of clothing behind them like breadcrumbs, the echoes of their backs thumping against walls in heated passion down the hallway of his old apartment. Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat and pointed to the bed. "Alright, Blondie. I'll tuck you in but--" Cut off mid-sentence, he blinked at her for the confusing riddle. "You gonna drown in your comforter? 'Cause I don't know where the hell you think you're headin'..." He trailed after her toward the bathroom, raising a brow.

    Sighing out, he watched her twitch on the water, tilting his head. Like back then, recent events excluded... he seemed to have a hard time saying no to her all over again. "... Fine. Bath, but then be-- Don't you think that's enough bubbles? You're gonna flood the bathroom," he snorted, shaking his head before he chewed on his bottom lip, regretting it from the sting once he did. "Yeah.. I remember," he muttered, the question summoning more rather vivid images. Hand prints left in the steam on the glass doors, their ever helpful hands aiding in lathering each other... that one time they slipped and found themselves entangled at the bottom of the shower, but it hadn't stopped them in the least. "Whoa, easy there," he grunted, stepping quickly forward when she teetered dangerously toward the tub face first, his hands caught her waist to steady her as she finished working off her jeans. Once she didn't seem like she was going to faceplant into the tub, he took a couple steps away from her to swat the toilet lid down, sitting on it to rest his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers together while she dished out her command. He raised a brow. "Is that a request or an order?" He snorted, just to laugh. "Well, that's something a man loves to hear," he teased, smirking a little bit. "Stay the night, but we don't gotta touch. I forgot my flannel PJs at home. We gonna have a pillow fight?" He grinned, as if it was a one-sided drunk slumber party. He looked at her raised wrists and pouted. "Forgot my cuffs, too... I s'pose I still got my hands," he rubbed his fingers over his beard, seeming to contemplate it. Shaking his head, he turned on the seat so he was facing her more directly.

    His eyes squeezed shut when she blew the bubbles at him, a grunting leaving him as some splashed at his face, catching in his beard. Some caught on his nose as it wrinkled, he reached up to paw it off his face with a palm. "Oi! You're the one takin' a bath!" He grunted, sneezing as some bubbles tickled his nostril when he breathed. "Ha-fuck." Though, he couldn't help but laugh when she yelled out and he rose from the toilet. "You're overflowin' the tub, Izzy!" He laughed, making his way over to turn off the knobs with a twist. "Ack! It's in my shoe!" He spat, shaking out his leg when some of the water splashed over the side and right on his boot. "Makin' a fuckin' mess and a half," he corrected her with a scoff, looking over with a wrinkled nose. "Good thing you got a maid to clean this shit up," he snickered, just in time for her to sink under the water. His brows soared as he stepped closer, about to sink his hands into the water to pull her up. "Only a fool drowns in the tub!" He barked, just to twitch and take a step back when he got a splash of the water. His arms lifted as the soft fabric of his grey tee clung to a chiseled chest and abs. He looked down at his soaked clothes, then looked at her. "I should'a tossed your ass in the river," he teased with a laugh, plucking at the clingy fabric at his stomach. Blinking, he feigned innocence. "What sound?" Stepping closer to the tub, he crouched down beside the tub and started scooping up bubbles to pile on top of her head. "Really kinky shit. Think Bane if he was into BDSM, leather straps and collars and shit. They call me Spike in the Red Light District," he teased, rolling his eyes which signified he was joking.

    He was doing his best to focus on the bubbles he was trying to pile on her, and not the way her nude colored undergarments clung to her... the way he could see her nipples through the bra... or more if he just pushed the bubbles out of the way. His eyes flicked to her face, pausing in it's making of giving her a bubble beard when she asked if he was coming in. "Be a tight fit, don't you think?" He raised a brow. "I know your depth perception is off, but I'm a big guy," he smirked, resting his forearms on the edge of the tub once he was satisfied with the new look he gave her. Bubbles Edition. He watched her for a moment, and every ounce of logic remaining in him told him to pull her out, get her ass in bed and leave. No sleepovers. Do Not Pass Go. But after everything... the least he could do was stay one night, and.. "What kind of an asshole would I be to let you fend off the kraken alone?" He wrinkled his nose, pushing up to his feet as he started kicking off his boots. "Move over, Bubbles," he snickered, peeling off the already wet shirt by the collar and worked out of his jeans. It took a moment to peel them off from being wet, but he managed. Off with the socks, but he kept his boxers on as he held onto the sides of the tub, climbing in once she was out of his way. "Why don't they make bigger tubs?" He grunted, easing himself down with some maneuvering. The end result was him tucked against the side of the tub with his knees drawn up, his arms lounged around the curve of the tub. "Let's see the kraken try his bullshit with me here," he smirked at her.
     
    Last edited: Aug 6, 2018
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