#Red Devils wall clock

[nounoustouzy]

MANCHESTER UNITED WALL CLOCK

Every second counts! An exciting and practical accent in any room, this unique high quality Wall Clock serves as a statement piece, creating a personalized environment.

.: Materials: 100% wood (frame), 100% plexiglass (face), 100% metal (mechanism) .: One size: 10" x 10" (25.4 x 25.4 cm) .: Pre-installed backside hook .: For indoor use .: Requires one AA battery (NOT included) .: Silent clock mechanism.

Get it now from here

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! I loved your last hobie fic btw it was really good!!

Imagine that in hobies universe you died but when he travels to miles universe he sees you alive 😭 and then the reader introduces themselves to him the same way they did in his universe

Keep feeding us with these ATSV fics 😈😈

Have a great day!!!

Thank you for enjoying my Hobie Brown stuff anon cuz he’s been invading my mind recently. I hope to god this is okay for ya. 🦦

Hobie remembered first meeting you as though it were yesterday, you were within an alleyway vandalising the walls with your spray paint, he happened to be passing by when one of your masterpieces caught his eye; it was of him…well him as Spider-Man clocking a cartoonish Osborne -appropriately adorned with devil horns and a tail- in the head with his eyes crossed out in red spray paint as though he were dead.

It got a good chuckle out of him that was for sure and from that alone he knew he had to know you more on a personal level. ‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ He asked aloud, making you jolt, you were pretty sure you had chosen a spot where you weren’t going to get caught by the authorities or those that’d grass you up for expressing how you truly felt about Osborne and all those just like him. You shrugged, looking up at your finished product before looking back over at Hobie, ‘dunno yet,’ you told him truthfully, ‘my working titles are either anarchy incarnate or death to capitalism.’

Hobie hummed in approval, but he thought you could do better, ‘how about anarchy is the death of capitalism?’ He suggested and he couldn’t never forget the light in your eyes upon hearing his working title, that in the midst of your excitement you had grabbed him by the arm, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it, you’re a genius man!’ You cried before realising what you did and immediately removed your hand from his arm, ‘sorry about that.’ Hobie dismissed your apology by slinging an arm over your shoulder. ‘Nah, don’t give me that shit, you shouldn’t have to apologise for being yourself for that’s what they want you to do.’

‘I don’t think I ever got your name.’ You said. ‘Hobie. Hobie brown and may I get to know the name of the amazing artist behind this.’ Hobie gestured to the spray painting. ‘Y/n l/n.’ You replied. ‘Well y/n, I think we’re going to get along quite well.’ And you did.

So when your untimely death happened, Hobie felt as though he were Achilles having lost his Patroclus. He cradled your body into his arms even long after you had said your final words, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’ and much longer after it had already gone cold. You had told him that you were heading out to go spray paint with some people you’ve met and the worst soon came when despite knowing that you didn’t have to, you still went out of your way to act as a distraction so that the rest may escape; which resulted in the way that it did.He knew he should’ve gone with you that day because then maybe you would still be alive and taking the piss out of him for worrying about you but he didn’t, so you weren’t.

Ever since then Hobie had made it his goal to keep fighting for not only his chase but yours as well in your memory. He made you a memorial in the exact same place where you first met, always paying it a visit whenever he felt as though he needed you with him, which has lead him to start talking to your spray pairings as though they were actually you. There was without a shadow of a doubt that you were quite possibly one of the greatest artists to have ever lived, alongside with being an avid inspiration to many to the youths who felt as though they had no way of expressing themselves when feeling slighted by the society they were born in. Hell you even inspired him! So much so that there were a multitude of songs he would perform that depicted a individual with stardust in their eyes, a rebellious fire in their heart and a insatiably need to insight the themes of anarchy within anything they touched.

After your death Hobie kept a good portion of your things; such as your spray cans that would never get used, your clothes that still clung onto the very last essence of you much like he did and even kept the picture you took together after helping you finish a project you had been wanting to pursue for a long while; and who would’ve thought that it would be him, not as Spider-Man, just good old Hobie Brown with the message, ‘keep fighting the good fight, my little anarchist.’

So when he caught himself walking down a alleyway much like he did long ago but this time in a completely new place, he felt as though he was being hit with a wave of de ja vu when his ears picked up on the familiar hissing sound of a spray can. It was like he was back there again and if his memory serves him right, he knew what was to come next the moment he, Gwen and Miles made it into a clearing where they were greeted with the sight of someone’s back as they were deeply engrossed with their own handy work. ‘You’re going to love them Hobie, they’re like super cool and awesome.’ Gwen told him but her words went in one ear and out the next as he stared up at the spray painting of Miles as Spider-Man mid swing; it was beautiful without a doubt but they style in which it was drawn was all too familiar.

‘Whatcha gonna call that?’ Hobie had said without realising it until you jolted before turning to look directly at him, regaining your composure, ‘dunno yet.’ You shrugged and your voice sounded like an echo to the past for Hobie who so desperately wanted to pinch himself in that moment. ‘my working titles are either a bright new era or rising above all expectations.’ Hobie didn’t say anything for he knew he was going to say something that would only scare you away, just because you were another version of his y/n didn’t mean you shared the same memories; to you, he was just another spider-man from another reality, he wasn’t your Hobie despite how he wish he was but he knew he couldn’t put that on you.

He also couldn’t blame you for being alive while his version of you was dead. It wouldn’t be fair on you for being blamed for something that wasn’t your fault to begin with and it wouldn’t be fair on him either, as despite how many times he made himself believe that he has accepted your death, his heart would remind him that he truly hadn’t. You were such a pivotal part of his life that he couldn’t seem to let go of. ‘Hmm, both titles sound cool but I think we can do better.’ Miles pipped up, breaking Hobie out of his headspace that was running rampant with all the best memories you shared together. ‘How about…the bright new era of rising above all expectations?’ Hobie interjected.

You made a face at the suggestion before a wide smile spread across your face as you lost yourself in your excitement and grabbed ahold of his arm like you did when your first met, ‘that’s it! That’s what I should call it! You’re a genius dude, thank you.’ But before you could remove your hand from his arm, Hobie grasped your hand and held it firmly. ‘I don’t believe I told you my name, it’s Hobie by the way.’ Your excused his actions as an exchange of formal greeting and grasped onto his hand with the same about of force. ‘Nice to meet you Hobie, I’m y/n.’

‘I know’ is what Hobie desperately wanted to say but kept it all contained under a strained smile.

[alastor-simp]

Trick or Treat - Alastor x Female Reader

❥Summary: It's Halloween, and the hotel is decorated in spooky decor and sweet treats were prepared. Towards the end of the night, you are approached by Alastor and he has a very intimate question for you.

❥Tags: Halloween, Halloween Night, Trick or Treat, October 31st, Alastor x Reader, Female Reader, Soon To Be Smut, Spooky.

❥Notes: Halloween story for Alastor is here. This will be a two different ending story (Trick Chapter and Treat Chapter) and they will both be different scenarios and either romantic fluff or smut. Enjoy and Happy Halloween

❥Credit- Halloween divider from @riottsrph

It's finally Halloween!!!! You have been waiting for this day ever since you arrived in the Hazbin Hotel. Halloween was something you celebrated when you were still alive, and you were still going to continue to celebrate it even when you were in Hell. You begged Charlie and Vaggie if it was possible to plan a Halloween costume party in the hotel for everyone. Charlie was immediately on board with you, grabbing a paper and pen, making a list of everything that they needed to prepare for the party. Vaggie was a bit hesitant at first, but she gave in to Charlie's puppy dog eyes.

Grabbing the invitations that you drew up, you placed them under the doors of all of the residents, reminding them to head to the lobby at around 7 pm, and to wear a spooky costume. Charlie also extended an invitation to her dad, especially since her and him had a better relationship now. Charlie and Vaggie were managing the decorations, while you headed to the kitchen, preparing tasty treats for the others. You decided to do both savory and sweet halloween treats, since others might not have a sweet tooth, aka Alastor. For the sweets, you made witch finger cookies, caramel + candy apples, halloween covered strawberries. The savory treats was ghost pizza, spooky charcuterie board, and mummie meatballs.

🧡💚💜🖤Treats🖤💜💚🧡

(Credit to Pinterest)

"All set!" You said to yourself, enthusiastically, satisfied with the dishes you prepared. Charlie saw what you made and gave you a big hug, truly happy and excited to try them and the others to enjoy them as well.

Eyeing the clock, it was almost time for the party. You ran towards your room, ready to put on your (favorite halloween costume) on. Once you were finished, you headed to the lobby, ready for the party. The lobby was decorated from head to toe in spooky decorations. The chandelier was covered in cobwebs, ghost string lights were hang up all over the walls, black, orange and white balloons were scattered on the floor, spider and ghost streamers hanged from the ceiling, and the table was set up with the food you prepared and a punch bowl, which was probably gonna be spiked later. Everyone was in the lobby, dressed in their costumes. Charlie and Vaggie were dressed up as Glinda and Elphaba from the musical, Wicked. Charlie's cat, Keekee was wearing an adorable devil costume. Angel was wearing a very sexy police uniform, as expected of him. Husk had on a big red and white striped hat and bowtie, resembling the cat in the hat. Niffty had on a purple and black dress, combined with a point hat and broom, resembling a witch. Sir Pentious donned a lab coat, with rubber gloves and fake medical tools, clearly looking like a mad doctor, and his Egg bois were dressed up in little nurses outfits. You expected Lucifer to dress up as either a prince or vampire, but here he was, dressed in a big duck costume, well he looked good in it.

Alastor was the only one who wasn't in the lobby, making you wondered where he was. "Hey, has anyone seen Alastor?" Your question was met with shrugs, until you heard the sound of static from behind you. "Here I am, my dear!" He said, in a sing-song tone, making you turn your head to look at him. He was still wearing a pin striped suit, but this time it was white and black, along with a bat bowtie in the front. "Ahh, decided to be the Pumpkin king himself for Halloween." Smiling up at Al, you admired his costume, moving your hand up to straightened the bow tie. "Yes well, I much rather prefer to appear as myself since I am heavily feared, but dear Charlie was persistent with the whole costume aspect of this celebration, so I chose this." He said, smile enlarging a bit as he watched you fix his tie. "Well you look very handsome." His ears twitched at what you said, smile turning soft. "OKAY!! ARE WE READY TO GET THIS PARTY STARTED?!" Charlie's voice rang out, making you and Alastor jump as you turned around, facing towards her. "HELL YEAH!" was everyone's response to Charlie, as the halloween party was ready to commence.

The party was a massive hit! Everyone was moaning in joy at how delicious the food was that you prepared, even Alastor gave you a nod of approval for the non sweet dishes you made. Lucifer had used his powers to conjure up some fun entertainment for everyone, as well. He had a giant water jug filled with apples for everyone to do bobbing for apples, which you really enjoyed playing. Turning on the boom box, you put on "Thriller" by MJ, grabbing both Husk and Angel to do the iconic dance. Husk grumbled through half of it, but he lightened up a bit after a while. Everyone else started to dance, and you pulled Alastor to join as well. He wasn't use to dancing to this type of music, but he slowly adapted to it, as you helped him a bit with the moves. Angel insisted on playing beer pong after he asked numerous times, making you relent. He went up against Al, which was a bad idea because the balls tend to always miss his cups, yet magically Al's ping pong balls always landed in Angels cups, causing Angel to drink all of his alcohol.

It soon became very late and everyone was either very drunk or flat out tired, which was a clear sign that the party was over. Lucifer bid everyone a good night, lifting both Charlie and Vaggie in his arms, carrying them to their bedroom. Angel placed Niffty on Husks head, as she was passed out, while the both of them headed to bed. Pen's egg bois were able to lift him up, dragging him away to his bedroom. The only ones who were still awake was you and Alastor, not surprising since he never slept. "MMMMM! Well that was a fun party." Stretching your arms up in the air, you let out a soft groan as you heard your bones crack. "I must admit, it was highly entertaining. Too bad we didn't finish the night with a good hunt!" The demonic aura surrounded Al, as his antlers enlarged and his eyes became dials. "Hey, behave yourself! Besides not everyone would partake in that, well maybe, Niffty." Crossing your arms, you glared at him, as his evil aura faded in a instance. "It was merely a suggestion, my dear. There is no need for you to frown, come now, Smile!" His fingers went to your lips, pulling them up into a smile. Rolling your eyes, you smiled genuinely while removing his hands from your mouth, "Yeah yeah." Turning your eyes back to the lobby, you saw there was a mess that needed to be cleaned up, welp lets get started. Before you can even start cleaning, everything vanished with a flash, making the room spotless. "What?! How did?" Turning back, you realized Al snapped his fingers, using his powers. "Oh right, forgot you could do that." You rubbed your neck, smiling at Al.

Chuckling at your reaction, Al walked closer to you, motioning his arm out for you to take, "Come along now, my dear. Its best we head to bed." Looping you arm with his, you walked along side him, venturing on towards your chambers The both of you finally reached your destination, your room, as the both of you stood at your door. "Thanks for walking me to my room, Al." Alastor smiled down at you, waiting for you to unhook your arm, as he placed both his hands behind his back. "Your very welcome, my dear." Grabbing the handle, you turned the door, before you bid Alastor a good night. Entering inside your room, your head met someones chest causing you to jump and scream. "WAH!" Alastor had teleported into your room, startling you. "HAHA! Apologies for scaring you, but there was a question I wanted to ask you, my dear." Trying to calm yourself down from the scare, you looked up at Al, asking what did he want to ask you. Wearing a toothy smirk, he walked slowly towards you, making you step backwards, your back touching the door. Gripping your chin softly, he tilted it up, crimson eyes gazing into yours, "Trick or Treat?" What? Remaining silent, you pondered what he meant. "Which one, darling? Trick or Treat?"

-To Be Continued-

What answer the reader choose?

Trick-Part Coming Soon

or

Treat- Part Coming Soon

Sinners:

@alastorsgoldie @91062854-ka , @delectableworm , @iiotic

@cookiekyo , @demoarah , @danveration , @beebsbea ,

@veethewriter , @forbidden-sunlight , @pinkcrystal44 , @luujjvi ,

@unholycheesesnack , @saturnhas82moons , @jyoongim ,

@aceofcards0-0 , @ghostdoodlen , @yourdoorisunlocked ,

@starshipcookie , @ainsliemac , @aria-tempest , @nobuharashinyao

, @sweet06tart , @blakedbeanss , @ihyperfixatedagain , @ktssstuff ,

@yakultt-art , @mooniee123 , @nightmarenaya , @darischerry ,

@sadnessiscoldtea , @alastorssimp , @imacollasaltitan ,

@dilucragnvindr-my-beloved , @batmanmonstarr , @felice-jaganshi ,

@justchillaine , @crazed-flower , @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog ,

@akiooshizuka , @lokis-imaginary-friend ,

@themysteriousslenderman , @huntlowfan , @futureittomainn ,

@christinaatyourservice92 , , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it ,

@angelinevalentine89 , @yunimimii , @staryosh1 ,

@mihawksdemoness , @crystalreads , @blahblahbruhmeow ,

@madam-strawberryrose , @inkslayer , @azazel-nyx , @lixanjewel ,

@artemisandhunters , @thereeallink , @ask-theradio-demon ,

@lousypotatoes @l4zyb0n35 , @midorichoco

@lillyisfreakyy , @alastorthirsty , @yukiinee ,

, @aconstructofamind @angiiiiiiiiie

@pumppkinlynn @erikaafernns , @silverpaw2 ,

@cosmiccandydreamer , @killer-nightmare0 , @visara-valentina

@thereallsaturnstar , @coffee-or-hot-cocoa ,

@fckedupandbeautiful , @alaskathestereodemoness , @fries11 ,

@toneystank-3000. , @doll-babe-a-tron-queenthousand

, @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog , @twistedvanillacoffee

@morganodaidiot

[lostinlads]

Faulty Evols and Late-Night Rides

Synopsis: After a failed resonation with Sylus, the leader of Onychinus, he sweeps you away in the middle of the night to a warehouse. What's waiting for you are tests and a disappointment red-eyed man.

Tags: sylus x femme!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, , mentions of guns, mentions of kidnapping, biker!sylus, descriptions of food, mc is basically just a worry wort that sylus is gonna kill her, angst

Words: 3.8k

an: Howdy! So- uh this chapter is a bit long to say the least. And i did have some tech difficulties with ao3 deleting some of the chapter otherwise this wouldve been posted a few hours ago, but i hope you enjoy!!! we are slowly getting into it more and i hope you all continue to like this direction we are going in! Feel free to let me know any feedback and let me know if you catch any mistakes as well!!

ao3 | Chapter List | kofi

You've finally managed to get some sleep, though without a clock to tell you how long, you were starting to feel a bit better. You've been awake for a few hours, digging through the boxes that consumed the room and lazily putting things away in silence. You wished nothing more than to have your laptop, to play music or put on a movie in the background because the quietness of the house only added to the eeriness. But unfortunately, beggars can't be choosers, so you work in the stillness of your new room.

A lightness in your chest as your eyes fall upon your book collection, the first thing to have a place in here. Finally able to do something other than stare out at the expansive black of the outside. Maybe Sylus wouldn't need you much, you able to lock yourself away in your room and transcend to other worlds that wait eagerly in those pages. Though, you knew it would be too good to be true.

Three soft rasps on the door draw you from your daydream of escaping. Standing upright in the center of the room, expecting to see the twins, or the devil himself. But with a soft click, the door opened, and you found yourself looking at an older woman. Her graying hair pulled into a tight bun as a blue cleaning uniform clung to her body. If it weren't for her age, at first glance you would've guessed it would be Sylus's wife. But unless he was into older women, she looked closer to being his mother. 

"Mister Qin would like to see you in the dining hall, he sent me to retrieve you." The maid spoke, dark eyes staring at you. You nod, wiping your hands on your thighs as you step forward to follow her out to the winding hall. She led you through the house, your brain trying to memorize the way she took so you can figure out any path this house would lead you to. 

Your palms began to sweat, balling them in tight fists to control the nerves binding in your stomach. You take a deep breath, trying to be as quiet as possible to not show any weakness in front of the maid, though she no doubt see the fear in your eyes. The look of prey being handed over to the predator. The only sound echoing in the empty halls is both pairs of your feet.

The woman leads you through a grand room, you would've mistaken it for a ball room, but you realize it's an entryway. Delicate paintings line the walls, a small table holding a vase and a flower sits at the far corner. Almost something from a period piece movie. But she turns right, two grand doors opening as she walks through. You make your way in, tailing her as best you could, and make out this must be the dining hall. A long wooden table lay in the middle of the room, a golden silk tablecloth stretching the impossible length with a candelabra sitting magnificently in the middle. Chairs line the sides, thick wood with blood red cushions resting on the backs and seat. You almost don't realize Sylus sitting at the head, glasses pushed on his nose with papers littering the space in front of him and in his hand. You gulp.

"Thank you, Selene," He speaks, not looking up from his readings. She turns and leaves, the heaviness of being left alone in the room with him falls onto your shoulders. Teeth gnashing at the inside of your cheek as you stand there, rubbing your hands on your pants once more as you wait for a command, not wanting to push Sylus into harming you.

He looks up from his papers, eyes scanning over your figure through the lenses of his glasses. Embarrassment blooms inside of you, painting your cheeks a flushed pink as you remember your outfit. Plush pajama pants hang from your hips, a sweater wrapping around your upper body one single shoulder on display from it hanging loosely on you. You shuffle uncomfortably in your slipper clad feet as his eyes drink you in. You didn't even know if this outfit had been appropriate for this time of day, whatever that may be. A smokey rope appears from him, pulling the wooden chair from the table out. 

"Sit," His voice commanding, powerful. You obey, shuffling towards it and sliding in soundlessly before it yanks forward, a gasp falling from your lips. "Dinner will be served soon." Your mind reels at what could be served to you. The crackers and granola running out last night leaving your growling stomach to be the only sound in your room. You prayed this wouldn't be some sick game, him feeding you slop while he gets served a grand meal, leaving you to watch in starvation. You just nod, folding your hands on your lap as they wring together. 

Silence washes over you both again, the quiet sounds of fluttering pages as Sylus continues to look over his work in front of him. Your eyes scan the room, dark painted walls with deep wooden accents. A chandelier hangs above the long table, lighting the room in a warm glow, only making it more gothic. You could imagine Dracula living here, bringing beautiful women in to be his victims before he drinks them dry. Maybe that nightmare would be better than the one you're living in now, seduced to think some handsome man was taking you to be his bride and end up his dinner. 

You look down at your hands, pulling your sleeves past your fingers as you wait for food, hunger pains growing from the thought as your mouth waters. 

A door opened, making you jump at the sudden sound, turning your head to see a man in a chef coat wheel a cart into the room. The next thing you notice is the smell. How mouthwatering the wafting sent was, you can almost taste it. If the cartoons were real about people flying through the air at the scent of pie, that would be you. Your only consuming thought is how delicious it must be, your stomach audibly growling to show your need for it. 

Sylus's smoke tendrils swirl through the air, gathering the papers from the table and placing them in a neat pile next to him, which he placed his glasses on a moment later. The chef wheels the cart between you and Sylus, large plates filled with the most exquisite looking food you've ever seen laying on top with twin wine glasses sitting between them. He picks one up, placing it in front of Sylus, followed by a wine glass.

"Tonight we are having grilled Delmonico steak, seasoned with rosemary and garlic. For sides; we have roasted potatoes, biscuits, and slices of clementines." He places your plate in front of you, you watch as the golden butter on the potatoes glisten in the light, the juices from the thinly sliced steak dip nearing the edge of the plate before settling back into place. The biscuits split, the fluffy light bread on the inside looking like a cloud, aching for you to dine on it. And a small bowl containing evenly placed citrus slices, their scent wafting through your nostrils. You fought hard not to tear into everything before he could place the plate fully on the table, your hunger growing ravenous at you nearly drool at the sight of the art in front of you. He placed your glass in front of you.

"For the wine," He bends down, opening a small door on the side of the cart, pulling a wine bottle from a chilled bucket of ice. "We are serving Chateau Margaux, one of your favorites, Mister Qin." He pops the cork, creating another small jump from you before he pours a generous amount in both of your glasses, more than the usual amount. You note the scent, something vintage, something you remember from those late nights at galas and expensive dinners with your father. 

"Thank you, Chef," Sylus speaks, a hint of appreciation or fondness in his tone. "Everything looks delicious." The chef nods.

"Enjoy," He turns, wheeling the cart from the room, leaving Sylus and you alone with the hot, fresh meals in front of you both. You don't move a muscle, not knowing if this would turn into a trap, letting you almost taste real food for the first time in days, just to rip it from under you. Eyes scanning everything on the plate, taking in every last detail of the meal as you inhale the scent like a dog begging for a bite.

"Eat," Sylus commands, annoyed. You look at him for a second, blinking. The all too familiar crease between his brows there, eyes hard as he lifts a piece of steak from his plate. You watch as his teeth sink into it, sharp, slicing right through. With a shaky breath, you gulp, turning back to your own plate and lift up a fork. The silver heavy in your hand as you let the weight sink into your palm for a second, deciding on what first to consume. You decide on the potatoes, knowing if you start with the steak, you will only embarrass yourself further, ripping it apart like a rabid animal. The second it touches your taste buds you couldn't help the small moan pass your lips as your eyes roll back in your head. It almost felt worth it waiting for days to eat real food, with this the first thing to bless your mouth.

"It's delicious..." You whisper out, stabbing your fork into the meat, not wanting to wait any longer to consume it. 

"Our chef is a master in his work," His words ring loud as he appraises his employee. The two of you fall into silence, forks tapping in the plates and muted chewing filling the space between. You tasted the wine, sweetness blooming on your tongue as the warm fuzzy feeling spreads through your stomach. Every bit of the meal complimenting each other, filling you up far sooner than you thought it would. Your plate only half eaten; wine downed as the soft buzz in your veins made you feel warm inside. Placing your fork back down, you lean back in your seat, head down with your hands on your lap.

"Uhm," You start, not knowing how to let him know you stuffed to the brim.

"If you're finished, head to your room and get dressed. We have somewhere to be," He spoke, eyes never wavering from his food as he lifts his glass to his wine-stained lips. You nod, pushing out of your chair to stand. It felt awkward, leaving your plate behind for someone else to clean up, but you really didn't want to feel more incompetent than you already do, having to be walked through basic steps of living all over again. 

To your surprise, the maid was waiting outside the door, hands clasped behind her back as she stared down the hall. You clear your throat, her head snapping to you before blinking twice.

"Ah, you're finished," She speaks with surprise, eyes drifting to the large grandfather clock along the other wall. You follow, the time displaying eight thirty, but you weren't sure if it was day or night. 

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, I didn't know..." Words trailing off as she begins to walk you back to your room, the familiar route slowly engraving in your mind. 

"I expected you to be gone longer, no worries," Selene chirps, an odd warmness in her tone. 

You make it back to your room, Selene bids you a farewell, telling you Sylus would be meeting you outside once you're ready before turning on her heel and leaving. You shut the door, the lack of a lock latching stretching in the silence before you turn to your dresser. The problem now was you had no idea what Sylus had in mind for your outing. Somewhere to be? That could only mean so many things, and after yesterday your mind told you that you would be sold off yet again. Faulty evol not to his tase so he would simply throw you away. 

Hands shuffling through the drawers you find a simple outfit, jeans and a t-shirt, if he had more elegant plans, well he should've said so. You shuck out of your sleepwear, tossing your new outfit on you make your way to the bathroom. Eyes washing over your appearance, hair tousled from sleep and lounging all day, dark circles under your eyes, and the most pathetic look on your face. Looking like a beaten kitten, fear etched into your eyes, cheeks sunken in, and a soft frown on your stained lips. You almost didn't recognize yourself. With a huff you reach for your brush, raking it through your locks, wincing at every small knot that tugs your scalp. You also decide to wash your face, splashing cold water to try and flush the color of your cheeks, convince yourself that you're still alive. It helps, a soft blush spreading over the apples and the tip of your nose. 

Satisfied, you turn to leave, your hand stuttering to a halt on the handle of your door before you retreat, eyes scanning over your messily unpacked items. They fall onto your jacket, thrown across the chair of the desk in the corner. Might as well bring it, you weren't familiar with the weather of the N109 Zone at this time of year, better safe than sorry. 

You walk through the halls for the first time alone, the sense of being caught for doing so etching into your bones, fear creeping up your spine. You knew your instructions, but spending days locked away to roaming the halls freely seemed like a trap. Maybe you should've waited for him to come and get you, but Selene told you to meet him. The sigh that escaped your lips was involuntary, slipping out while you turn down another hall - hoping you're heading in the right direction.

Finding yourself in what you think looks like an entryway. Peering out the window, vast darkness stretches as far as your eyes can see, the only thing you can make out is a soft glow of a light close by. This should be it, if not you could find your way around the large house until you spot him. You open the door, slipping out through the crack, you're grateful for grabbing the jacket, cool air nipping at the exposed flesh greedily. You follow the source of light, the sound of an engine humming in your ears as you draw closer. 

Sylus, dressed in leather, leaning on a motorcycle comes into view. Large muscular arms crossed over his chest as his eyes remain on the gravel blow his boots. Lips still stained that deep red color, which you are disgusted to admit, looks divine on him, matching his wine-colored eyes. Gravel crunches, he lifts his head, face unchanging as he takes in your appearance.

"Where... are we going?" You decide to ask, putting on a brave face as you shift under his watchful eyes. He pushes himself from the bike, grabbing a helmet before walking over to you. 

"I have a... friend - who might help your little evol situation." That sure didn't sound ominous at all. You nod, gulping down the bubbling fear inside you as you stare into his eyes. He slips the helmet onto your head, using his knuckle to lift your chin up - your cheeks flame. The gesture so soft, so unlike Sylus. He leans in close, eyes drifting from yours, to your lips, then to the strap hanging loosely by your neck. Fingertips barely graze past your skin as he tightens it, a snug - almost perfect - fit as it secures. Sylus's eyes meet yours once more for a split second before he turns, climbing onto his bike in a movement so fluid it almost seemed like a rehearsed dance. 

"Well?" He shoots you a look as he slips his own helmet on, looking at you expectantly. Right. You walk over and climb on, attempting to leave as much space between the both of you as you can on the small machine. Your hands reach out and shakily hold onto his sides, barely touching him. Until you feel a push from behind you, knocking your chest flush to his back and arms around his thin waist. 

"You need to hold on tighter. We can't have you falling off, can we, Kitten?" His voice loud and clear through the helmet, an intercom? One of his hands coming to secure your arms tight around him. He could probably hear how loud you were breathing through his helmet but he only thing you could think of was his intoxicating scent flooding your every being. Warm, worn leather, deep fresh citrus, with a smokey and sweet scent undertone and hints of a manly cologne. It consumed you, something so musky but so elegant, you wish you could bottle it up and keep it with you. If you weren't so drunk on his scent, you would be shaming yourself. How could you think this way of this criminal. This man who took you from the only home you've ever known. Who confessed to wanting to use you as his weapon. But right now, his body was warm, pressed to yours, his scent filling your senses and making you dumb, strong muscles under your fingertips. Everything telling you this was safe, this is comfort. You wished you didn't have this damned helmet on, wanting to press your cheek to him and breathe him in completely, but sadly, that wouldn't be your fate today.

Before you could think, the bike beneath you roared, the vibrations rattling your bones, making your teeth chatter. 

"Hold on tight, Sweetie," Sylus purred in your ears, his back rumbling with his words against your chest as you sped off into the darkness before you. He was so fast, zipping into the night like a bullet with you clinging onto him for dear life. The sudden jolt coaxing a gasp from your lips, eyes bulging wide as the scene around you blurs to nothingness. Sylus's unmistakable dark chuckle bounces around your skull, obviously amused at your shock and fear. 

"Does the N109 Zone not have speed limits?" You shriek, clinging impossibly closer to him.

"What do you think?" Tone mocking, as if you willingly spent any time in this hellscape alone. You don't answer him, looking off into the distance, trying to make anything out other than streaks of light. 

The cold air whipping at your hands made them sting. If only he would slow down maybe they wouldn't hurt so much. Your intoxication of him washing away to nothing more than annoyance once more.

He confused you, everything he said and done contradicting each other, making your head hurt. His gentle touches but harsh looks? Taking you away from your home but carefully packing up your belongings and bringing them here for you? You couldn't decide if he was cruel or thoughtful. But you still didn't have a phone, or anything for you to communicate with for that matter, so maybe his plan is to isolate you. Lock you away in his tower forever. Not like you weren't used to it, your father practically doing the same thing for years. But there you were home, not stuck in the N109 Zone, promised to be used by the leader of fucking Onychinus.

You would just have to keep your distance from him, which is a hard thing to say as your bodies are pressed so close you could feel every calm, controlled breath that graced his lungs. After today you would stay away, not look for any answers from him, keep your head down. Not that you haven't, but the way your brain looked too far into his caresses, the way it nearly shut down at his smell alone, you had to be careful. 

You zip through the dark, Sylus expertly swerving down streets and past cars, only making you panic more. Preparing for the inevitable crash your nerves told you was going to happen. But before it could happen, Sylus rounded a corner and slowed to a stop.

The building before you large, and dimly lit only adding to the haunting feeling of today. You didn't move, hands still clutching him as you tried to calm your beating heart back into a normal pace. 

"You can get off now," Annoyance etched onto every word. You obeyed, though you really didn't want to. Throwing your leg over and bracing them shakily on the pavement under you. Sylus followed, swift precise movement he's probably done thousands of times before. His long legs stride over to you, lifting your chin to undo the strap under your chin before he slides the helmet off. He copies the same with his, placing them both on the seat as he glides effortlessly towards the large double doors of the building.

You chase after him, two steps for each of his.

Inside was almost like another world to you, weapons lining the walls and littered over tables, some creating a soft glow to them. You noticed pretty quick that they had been altered with protocores, then it clicked to you. This is Sylus's job. Creating illegal weapons with altered, and equally as illegal, protocores. Selling them to people, to your father. Your beating heart in your chest reminded you just how rare the one lodged in it was, desirable and sought after by people like Sylus. You gulp.

"Mister Qin, I wasn't expecting you today," A man walked out from behind a machine, rubbing grease off of his hands with a worn rag. Sylus pulled out a chair and slipped onto it, plucking a pocket knife up from the table and flipping the blade open. Blue currents buzzed out, obviously altered by a protocore.

"I have a special situation you need to look into for me," Wine stained lips curling into a smirk as his eyes stay trained on the knife, flipping it between his long, skilled fingers. The man made his way over, eyes flicking to you for just a moment before returning to Sylus. 

"Of course, Sir. What can I do for you?" Sylus's eyes finally land on you, almost zeroing in like a predator. 

"I need you to run some tests on her." Your mouth runs dry, hands sweating as you ball them by your sides. Your exhausted body almost collapsing at the nerves tremoring through it. This was it, your fate. If you failed him, no doubt he would have this man carve your heart out and rip the damned core from it to have himself. "Says she has an aether core in her heart but her evol isn't working. We need to figure out why." 

[pepperyduck]

breakin' dishes - shiu kong

synopsis: shiu comes back after a night of too much fun, to find his unhappy fiancée, who's only out for blood.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, cheating, reader is a little cray, fighting, throwing breakables at shiu, brief gun mention, getting arrested, female reader.

notes: prob offensive. will prob delete later. will prob make a part 2.

who the hell does he think you are?

that is the only question that runs through your mind as the clock hits 3 a.m. leg bouncing slightly with anticipation of his arrival.

and who the hell does shiu think he is?

you look at your phone again at the message from toji.

‘your boy just hooked up with my girl’s friend. sorry.’

the image attached had caused you a great deal of pain a few hours ago. it contained your beloved shiu, shed of his blazer with his tie messed up, a hot bombshell sitting on his lap. straddling him, more like. her tongue shoved down his throat. but all the tears were dried now, and only sheer rage was left towards your fiancé.

“fucking idiot,” you mumble, clicking your phone off and tossing it next to you on the couch.

speak of the devil and he shall appear.

the door to your home squeaks open, shiu appearing in the doorway, an unlit cigarette hanging lazily from his lips. you allow him to come inside and greet his usual, “hey doll, why are you still up?” before you stand up.

shiu can see it instantly. the anger. why was toji such a snitch? why was shiu such a moron?

“who the hell do you think i am, shiu?” you shout, grabbing an empty beer bottle from a few nights ago and tossing it at your fiancé. it breaks with an ear-piercing shatter, right next to his head, and his eyes widen in surprise. the cigarette drops from his mouth.

“listen, doll-,” shiu begins, raising his hands up to try and wave you off.

but you weren’t stopping. no; you were only seeing red.

“shut the fuck up, bastard!” you yell, grabbing the only picture frame off of the side table – a picture of you and him at your favorite restaurant – and hurdling it right towards his eyes. he quickly dodged it, allowing the frame to crack against the door and clatter against the ground.

he darts into the kitchen to his right, disappearing behind the wall for only a second. you’re too quick. you follow him, and the instant he senses your eyes on him again he freezes in place and turns around, beginning to back away slowly. now, shiu is a normally calm and composed man, not shaken by many things. however, with his soon-to-be wife on a rampage because of a stupid mistake he made – he was terrified.

“didn’t think i’d find out, huh?” you step towards him, efficiently backing him against the counter – even though you were practically the whole distance of the kitchen away from him. “think you can go off and do whatever-the-fuck you want?” you interrogate him, watching him with intent as his shaky hands crept behind him to balance himself on the cold marble of the counter. you reach for the stack of glass plates you washed earlier – their placement convenient as ever right next to you – and you toss it at shiu stronger than before. “answer me!”

he barely dodges the dish, allowing it to shatter against the cabinets next to him.  as he goes to look at the aftermath of the plate breaking, another one is hurled at him, knocking him in the shoulder and falling down against the counter, fracturing as soon as it hits the surface. shiu rushes himself to look at you again, only to see another plate flying towards him. he swiftly ducks down, the dish shatters against the counter and the fragments rain atop him, shallowly scraping the skin of his face.

“we can talk- please, baby, we can talk-,” shiu pleads, slowly stepping in the direction of the closest exit – inching away from you. you can hear the cracks of the ceramic under his dress shoes. “baby, listen to me-,”

“did you fucking forget i’m an assassin, too? did it just slip your mind i’m just as capable of killing you as toji?” you cut him off, voice raising louder and louder the more you speak, and yet another plate weighs itself at shiu’s face forcefully.

shiu runs for it again, leaping out of the kitchen, attempting to go around the kitchen and out the door. but there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell you’re letting him out so easy. your senses had kicked in, the intuition so proficiently built over your tenure as an assassin proving to help you –

even when it came to the man you loved.

shiu needed to be scared shitless by you – you knew it was the only way he was going to behave. he had his chance to fuck around, he should’ve known that he would find out if he tried to do anything when it came to you. he did know that. he was just stupid, and drunk. and the influence of one toji ze’nin – the most infamous bachelor out of your whole organization – wasn’t easy to overcome.

you hastily counter his movements, grabbing your .22 out of the drawer closest to the door and rushing to block the door so he couldn’t leave. the moment shiu sees the matte black pistol in your hand, he runs up the stairs, and you chase after him, dropping the gun on your way up behind him.

that threat was eliminated, but the threat known as you was nowhere near done.

shiu dashes through the upstairs hallway into your shared bedroom, closing the door behind him before you push it back open with strength fueled by anger, sending him stumbling to the floor. he turns over and scoots away as best he can, backing into the wall.

“what the fuck shiu?” you scream, wrapping your hands around the vase that kept this week’s bouquet shiu bought you and throwing it at him. this time, you didn’t aim for him, just at the windowsill to scare him. “how the fuck could you do this to me?”

a few bangs on the door could be heard downstairs, but you couldn’t think about that – only about your fiancé in front of you. your mind drowned out the sounds of your door breaking open and the rush of footsteps downstairs as you continue to yell.

“i’m gonna kill that bastard toji – what the hell were you thinking?”

“calm down- calm down, doll, please,” shiu mumbles, paying mind to the voices growing louder downstairs. however shiu’s urging falls to deaf ears as you resume your berating.

“you dumb bastard! i love you, you asshole!”

inevitably, you make the grave mistake of grabbing another picture frame – this time, a picture of yourself shiu took a while ago – and hauling it at him – just in time for the cops to show up behind you and start to yell for you to put your hands up. your eyes widen, finally grasping the reality of the situation as you look at your fiancé, terrified. tears well up in your eyes when forceful hands grab your wrists, quickly locking handcuffs around your limbs in an uncomfortable way.

“wait, wait!” shiu shouts, rushing over to the cops, “it’s okay, we just had an argument- let her go!” his pleas are barely audible to the officers, as they drag you out of your room and downstairs, and you hesitantly comply.

“shiu!” you cry, whipping your head around to see your man quickly following behind you.

for the first time, shiu sees real tears of fear roll down your face. he isn’t quite sure why you’re so terrified – but he doesn’t care.

“hey, stop!” shiu demands, pulling on the shoulder of one of the officers that held you. he is quickly shrugged off, told to ‘stand back’ in a rough tone by the cop.

your unrelenting love for shiu bounces back in a second, you felt stupid for being so angry…but you had a reason. shiu understood you. you know he did. this situation was a whole screw up – you just hoped it was able to be fixed; shiu did, too. he would make sure it was fixed. although yes, he had severely messed up, he was going to fix everything with you like always.

shiu hears your sobs as you’re dragged out to the patrol car, the further away you get the more you begin to resist. you kick your feet and sob out for your fiancé, and the officers become rougher with you the more you fight against them. it’s a sight shiu never wants to see again.

“shiu, please,” you cry, a mess of so many emotions because of all you’ve been through in the past hours.

your fiancé tries his best to console you as the police haul you away, forcing you into the back seat of the car, “i’ll get you out, doll, just don’t say anything,” shiu commands, in a tone that he always used after fights – the tone that comforts you, “i’ll be there soon, i promise! i love you, baby!” he yells as the door is slammed by an officer, and shiu is knocked out of the way as the cop quickly slides into the driver’s door.

shiu stumbles back, the moment of you being driven away in the back of a cop car turning itself into a blur in his mind. he stands there for a good 27 minutes, head turned in the direction the cop car took you. guilt forced its way into shiu’s chest.

he said he would come soon…but he couldn’t make himself do it just yet.

so, shiu walks to the curb, pulling a pack of his favorite cigarettes out of his pocket, habitually sticking one in the side of his mouth and lighting it. his lighter was a gift from you, from an overseas job you had. he would never get rid of it; he would only refill the fluid in it every time it ran out.

“shit, baby.”

shiu mumbles to himself as he allows the pained feeling of someone who’s soon-to-be wife found out he was cheating. it was a dreadful feeling, to have all that guilt laid on his shoulders – he didn’t chase after you yet because he knew he couldn’t bare to see you so upset. shiu takes a few more drags of the tobacco before throwing his head back and mumbling some more about how crazy you are.

but he loves it.

and shiu was going to come for you, soon.

[shalomniscient]

ALL I SEE IS RED LIGHTS || rahu x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

Control. This was the singular order that woman gave her before getting herself locked away by Paradeisos. Always, always remain in control. But there was a limit to just how much control Rahu could exert over herself before she needed an outlet. And as it just so happens, her most willing (and favourite!) one happens to be you. Or, Rahu comes back to the MBCC pent up and frustrated from her time in Paradeisos. To relax, she fucks you silly in the Archives.

cw. [NSFT][MDNI] rahu has a dick in this one (she also tops for once), rough sex, handjobs, degradation (whore, slut), breeding, choking, biting, belly bulge, semi-public sex, dacryphilia, discussion of anal, creampie

notes. god forgive me

wc. 3k

Being the Chief of the MBCC is a difficult, difficult job. There’s dealing with shitty higher ups, placating manic Sinners, stopping city-destroying threats, and worst of all, paperwork. Mountains and mountains of dreaded paperwork. There’s so much of the damn stuff it makes your brain numb–and not in the fun way. More often than not, you end up just waiting for something exciting to happen. 

Speaking of exciting, you glance at the clock on the wall as you sort the files in the Archives. It’s thirty minutes to five, and you’d be off the clock soon. Rahu should be arriving back from Paradeisos any minute now–

“Chief?”

Your lips twitch upwards in a wry smile at the sound of that familiar voice. Speak of the devil, indeed. “I’m in the Archives,” you call back to Rahu. You hear footsteps echo in your office, stopping just short of the heavy Archives door. 

“Are you alone in here?”

There’s an undercurrent of tension in her voice, but you brush it off in favour of focusing on the wall of files before you. You slot another file back into its place on the shelf and nod. “Yeah, it’s just me.” 

You’re entirely too preoccupied with your filing to notice Rahu striding towards you until a firm hand is gripping your waist, forcefully spinning you around to face her. You squeak in surprise as Rahu presses herself bodily against you, until you’re sandwiched between the shelf and Rahu’s firm, warm body. Your brows knit in confusion as you stare up at her, noting the stormy look in her silver eyes. 

“Is something wro—“ you ask, only to be cut off when Rahu discards her mask with a flick of her fingers and crashes her lips against yours in a bruising, claiming kiss. Rahu swallows any sound you make with her lips, her tongue forcing its way into your mouth greedily. She kisses you so forcefully it’s like she’s trying to draw your very life from your lips. Her teeth scrape your bottom lip before she pulls away, leaving you flushed and breathless. 

She doesn’t stop, though. She presses more burning kisses along your jaw and over what little exposed skin there is of your neck, growling as her teeth ghost over the thin fabric of your undershirt. Your arms loop around her broad shoulders as you pant and sigh in pleasure, feeling almost unbearably warm. But you retain enough brain function to at least try and ask her what she’s doing. 

“Need you,” is all she says, her voice low as she moves up to kiss you again. The request doesn’t surprise you–in fact, you had an arrangement with Rahu. Every few months, when Paradeisos loosens their leash, she’ll visit you and the Bureau. During these visits, she’ll update you on whatever new intelligence she’s managed to glean from the secretive Paradeisians, which is followed by the filthiest, raunchiest fucking as a way for both of you to de-stress. Of course, normally, you’d at least get to your chill-out room for some privacy, but not today, apparently. As if noticing the way your thoughts are straying, she takes your lower lip between her teeth and bites, making you whimper and squirm, the stinging pain surprisingly pleasurable. 

“H-here?” you manage to gasp out between the kisses Rahu steals from you. This side of Rahu is entirely new to you–and fuck if it isn’t hot. “Now?” 

Rahu leans bodily against you, her free arm bracing her on the shelf, caging you in. This close to her, you feel something poke at your inner thigh through your slacks, and you suck in a breath. You know Rahu and her pretty cock well enough to tell that she’s already at full mast and probably leaking into her boxers. The thought makes you shiver. 

“What if someone walks in?” you ask, resisting the urge to moan as Rahu rolls her hips against yours. 

“Locked the door already,” she says simply, the hand on your waist already moving forward to toy with the buttons of your shirt. The fact that she hasn’t ripped it off you yet means she’s giving you a choice—she would take you right here and right now, but only if you want. 

And despite yourself, despite the risks, you’ve never wanted something more in your entire life. 

“Okay,” you breathe out, sliding your hands on Rahu’s shoulders down lower and lower until you reach the buckle of her pants. Her pupils dilate and she makes a low, feral sound, watching as your hands unbuckle her pants, then slip past the waistband of her boxers to finally pull her aching cock free. 

It slaps against her toned stomach, leaking pre-cum like a fucking faucet and your mouth waters. Slowly, you swipe your thumb over the swollen tip, spreading her sticky pre-cum around. It coats your hand, slick and warm, and Rahu groans as you slide your hand down her shaft. You fall into a languid rhythm, obediently pumping her cock, intermittently moving up to the tip to collect more beads of pre-cum. Rahu pants lightly against your ear with each slick pump of your hand up and down her cock. When you squeeze lightly, Rahu’s breath hitches and she twitches in your grasp—she’s already close. 

You move to sink to your knees, to let her finish in your throat, but Rahu grabs you by the shoulders before you can get all the way down. Before you can even ask her anything, she spins you around and forces your front against the shelf, your cheek pressed against the files you just arranged. The sudden display of force makes your traitorous cunt clench, and you feel a surge of wetness drip into your panties. 

Rahu stands flush against you as her hand shoots down to unbuckle your slacks, while the other deftly undoes the buttons of your shirt. The presence of your undershirt makes her snarl against your nape and you whine when she rips it off, the fabric now hanging in tatters from where it’s tucked into your slacks. But even those are soon gone, leaving you in nothing but your underwear, and your shirt that hangs limply off your arms. The position is unbelievably compromising, but it makes your core throb. 

“Going to take your pretty pussy,” Rahu hums against your nape, ever so briefly biting down on the sensitive skin and leaving the imprint of her teeth there. She slots her cock between your thighs, moving her hips lazily, smearing pre-cum all over the soft flesh. When you look down, you can see her tip peek out with each thrust, and you whine, pushing your ass backwards against her, the need in your lower belly starting to make you lose it. 

Rahu makes a noise almost like a sneer, and trails a hand along your clothed cunt. She brushes your clit through the soaked fabric and scoffs as you moan, light and breathy. “So wet already,” she says, slipping her hand past the waistband of your panties and dragging a sinfully long finger along your cunt, from your hole to your clit. “Dripping like a whore and I haven’t even done anything yet.” 

The filth that leaves her lips makes a strangled moan leave yours. “Rahu, please, please, I need—“

Your pleas are cut off when a firm hand connects with your ass, the slap echoing in the room. You practically squeal, both in surprise and pleasure, your body jolting forward from the sheer force of it. Rahu gropes your ass shamelessly, taking handfuls of flesh into her large hand and squeezing before relentlessly raining more and more slaps on your ass until it’s the same flushed shade of red as your face. 

“You like that, don’t you? I can feel you get wetter on my fingers,” Rahu growls, briefly curling her fingers, the pads catching on your aching, needy clit. But then her fingers move backwards, and her thumb brushes against your ass. “You’re dripping so fucking much, Chief… at this rate, you’d be wet enough for me to take this hole too.” 

Another broken moan leaves you as the thought of Rahu fucking your ass makes your knees quiver. Rahu snickers behind you, but doesn’t go through with it. As much as she’d love to, taking your ass would really take more prep and she needed you now. Instead, she angles her hips, and slots a leg between yours, nudging you to spread your own a little wider. Rahu tugs your panties aside, strings of your own slick clinging to the ruined fabric, and then she hilts deep inside of you in one smooth motion. 

If it weren’t for Rahu’s hand that shot up to cover your mouth just in time, the scream you let out would’ve certainly alerted the entire MBCC. Stars danced behind your eyes at the sudden, immense fullness, your cunt fluttering. She’s so fucking deep in you, her tip ever so slightly brushing your g-spot as it rests in you. Rahu swears against your shoulder, her other hand bracing herself on the shelf. 

“Fuck, you’re so damn tight,” she says, giving an experimental roll of her hips that has you whining into her palm. She barely gives you any time to adjust to her size, immediately starting to pound away inside you. She fucks you with a brutal, animalistic pace, bullying your cervix and going balls deep with each thrust. The squelching sounds ring throughout the room, accompanied by the slapping of skin on skin. At the rate she was going, it was no surprise that your peak was almost upon you already. “F-fuck, you’re squeezing me so tightly, Chief…” 

Rahu still hadn’t moved her palm from your mouth, so all you could do was whimper pitifully as you felt your climax build in your belly. But she seemed to get the hint, the hand bracing herself on the shelf moving down to toy with your swollen clit. 

“Gonna cum already? Gonna make a mess on my cock?” Rahu breathes against your ear. You nod desperately, your pussy clenching with each powerful thrust. You’re so, so, so close—

“Chief? Are you in here?”

Nightingale’s voice makes you both freeze. You don’t know if you want to sob at the loss of your orgasm or the fact that Nightingale was about to catch Rahu balls deep in you in the Archive. Rahu’s hand drops from your mouth, settling on your throat instead. 

“Chief?” Nightingale calls again, knocking on the door. “Is everything alright?” 

“You should answer her,” Rahu says, but makes no move to pull out. Pulling yourself together, you do your best to sound like you weren’t just having your brains fucked out. 

“Yes, I’m in the Archives, adjutant. I’m alright,” you call back to her. Your voice is, thankfully, somewhat even, though you do sound a little breathless. 

“Are you sure?” Nightingale’s tone is worried. “You’ve been in there for a while…”

You smile. Nightingale may seem like a hard-ass sometimes, but that was only because she cared. “I’m sure, adjutant. I’m just—mmhm!”

Whatever you were about to say was cut off by Rahu suddenly thrusting up into you. Her cock presses right on your g-spot, but you somehow manage to smother your moan with a cough and glare over your shoulder at the sinner, who just smirks in response. She thrusts again, another sinful roll of her hips, and you press a hand against your mouth to stifle more of your moans. 

“Chief?” 

You shoot a glance at Rahu, but she doesn’t stop. No, she wants you to keep talking to Nightingale—all while she fucks you. The thought shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but your cunt gushes around Rahu’s cock, and she grins victoriously. 

“Sorry, I’m just—mmff—having a bit of a migraine,” you lie, gritting your teeth as Rahu languidly fucks into you. Her other hand resumes playing with your clit and you cover your whine with another cough. 

“Oh… are you sure you’re alright? Should I get you some painkillers?” Nightingale asks, still worried, and hopefully unaware. 

“N-no, I’m fine, adjutant,” you gasp out. “J-just need some—mm!—time alone.” 

“If you’re certain,” Nightingale sighs, though she sounds unconvinced. “I’ll leave these papers on your desk for when you feel better.”

“Thanks, adjutant.” 

Finally, Nightingale’s steps recede, and you slump against the shelf, feeling boneless. The only thing holding you up right now was Rahu’s dick buried inside you, honestly. An amused smile tugs at the sinner’s pretty features. “You were clenching on me the whole time,” she says lowly, scraping her teeth along the shell of your ear. “Did that excite you? Almost getting caught bent over for one of your sinners?”

“Fuck, Rahu, please,” you beg, the need in your core almost painful now. “Please just fuck me, please, please.” 

Rahu snarls, and the hand around your throat tightens. Then she’s fucking into you, resuming her brutal pace from before. Your breath is forced out of you with each ruthless rut of her hips, coming out in pinched wheezes as Rahu squeezes your neck–not enough to completely cut off your air, but just enough to certainly make you feel it. Her other hand leaves your clit to splay across your belly, her touch like fire on your already heated skin. Then she’s pressing down, right over the bulge her cock forms as it’s nestled deep in your cunt. 

“Can you feel that, Chief?” Rahu breathes, “the outline of my cock inside you? Filling this cute cunt up?” 

Your eyes flick down, and though the angle makes it difficult, you can see the slight ridge on your abdomen—and that’s all it takes for you to cream all over Rahu’s dick, eyes rolling back into your head. Rahu grunts as she feels you suddenly bear down on her, thrusting jerkily up into you while the hand around your throat tightens, stifling the cute, pitiful whines you make. She wasn’t expecting you to cum so quickly, but the feeling of your pussy wrapped around her is so downright heavenly she isn’t complaining at all. She’s getting closer and closer to her own peak, the hard muscles in her abs tightening. Her rutting reaches a fever pitch as she chases her high, uncaring of the way you’ve started to squirm on her cock from overstimulation.

“Just a little more,” she gasps out, burying her face in your shoulder, blunt teeth teasing your skin. “Just a little more, taking me so well, such a good little slut for me–”

The hand on your belly moved back to toy with your clit, harsh flicks that makes each nerve in your body jolt. Your mind feels like it’s breaking in half as Rahu uses your body for her own pleasure, your world narrowing down to the neediness between your legs. You’d barely come off the heels of your first orgasm and you were already starting to careen headfirst into the second. Your brain had long dripped out of your pussy as Rahu fucks herself deeper into you, her thrusts starting to get choppy and uneven until–

Rahu’s teeth sink deep into your shoulder and she hilts as deep as she can go, her tip smushed against the tight ring of your cervix as she spills hot cum deep into you with a growl. Your lips part in a soundless wail as you cum again on her cock, creating a white, frothy ring around the base of it. Rahu keeps driving her hips as she floods your cunt with white, as if she’s trying to fuck her cum right into your womb. 

The intensity of it all must’ve made you black out, because when you come back down to Earth, Rahu’s already slipping out of your abused cunt with a loud squelch. The drag of her softening cock as it retreats from you makes you shiver nonetheless–and you both groan as your mixed cum starts to leak from your hole and down your thighs. Globs of it, thick and creamy, spill from your gaping pussy and you shudder against the shelf, bracing yourself completely on it. Your hips jerk as Rahu’s fingers reach out to tug your drenched panties back into place, ensuring whatever remaining cum left in your pussy stays there. She even affectionately pats your cunt, which makes you whine, but Rahu makes it up to you by turning your head to gently kiss you. 

When she pulls back, there’s a mildly guilty look on her face as she takes in your disheveled state. “Sorry… about that.” 

You mumble out an incoherent answer, your thoughts still scattered around in your skull. Rahu tucks herself back into her slacks, then takes the initiative to help clean you up, gently turning you around so your back is resting against the shelf. She helps you back into your own pants, and buttons your shirt up as best she can, glancing apologetically as you shift uncomfortably. 

“Let me help you get back to your quarters,” Rahu offers, standing by your side as you shuffle out of the Archives, squeezing your thighs together. You nod, moving to grab your coat from where it hangs on your chair, resting it on your shoulders and letting it drape over your body. But before Rahu can lead the way out of your office, you wrap your fingers around her wrist and tug her back towards you. She stumbles in surprise, and you take the opportunity to pull her down by her tie so that she’s face-to-face with you. 

“I hope you know what’s waiting for you, puppy,” you say softly, your voice a low, sultry promise despite the hoarseness of it. Rahu’s pupils dilate, and you see the way her throat bobs. “Bad dogs should be disciplined, right?” 

(Once you get back to your quarters, you push Rahu onto her back and ride her until she’s shooting blanks and crying so prettily beneath you. So all in all, you’d say it was pretty worth it—even if you had to endure the knowing, disappointed look Nightingale will give you when you step into the office the next morning.)

[brandyllyn]

Frostbite

Max Phillips x f!reader

Summary: By all that was holy in the world, you were going to slap the ever-loving shit out of this man. Words: 1.9k

For the #pedrostoriesgift24 Holiday Gift Exchange. @almostfoxglove asked for:

* max gets reader/character for their office's secret santa (or vice versa) * office christmas party

And y'all know I can't resist Max.

My Masterlist <- So much more Max stuff here y'all. I've missed him.

Rated: Teen Warnings: This is romantic and sweet and I make no apologies for that. Max being Max, however.

If you had to listen to George Michael complain one more time about what happened last Christmas, you were going to cause a scene.

Looking around the room, you took some small solace that no one else seemed to be having a good time either. Derek had taken up a post near the exit, obviously waiting until just enough time had passed that he could make a break for it. Malika was on her third hard cider - if she wasn’t careful she’d be the Monday morning gossip.

And the very next day, you gave it away…

You slip your phone from your pocket as surreptitiously as possible, checking the clock. Not even 6:30, there was still the speech from the CEO, the sales award, and of course the office secret Santa to get through before you could make your escape. They always saved secret Santa for last - everyone marching one by one to open their gift from the table in the center of the room. Showing everyone the mug they had been given.

It was always a mug.

The table looked extra sad this year - filled almost entirely with bags, half of which didn’t even have a festive spray of tissue. It was the laziest possible wrapping job. Nothing more clearly said ‘I put no thought into this’ than a dollar store bag, taped shut.

You had wrapped your gift. An oblong box with a festive red bow. Inside was a designer tie - one you had been lucky to find at a local thrift store. You had no idea if your giftee would like it, he ran so hot and cold you never could tell if he even liked you. Or anybody for that matter.

“Hey there sweet cheeks, looking for me?”

Speak of the devil.

“Never.”

He sidles up next to you, all long limbs and expensive cologne. His suit is perfect; crisp navy blue with a sparkly snowflake tie. As usual he stands too close, forcing you to shift slightly sideways to avoid brushing against him.

“You tease,” he pouts with a puffed out lower lip. “You’re gonna break my heart.”

Max Phillips, rising star of the sales department. Arrogant, conceited asshole and inveterate flirt. He was handsome too, which was honestly just annoying. If someone was going to be that obnoxious, they should at least look like half a roasted ham.

“I have it on good authority you don’t have one,” you point out.

He pats his chest for a moment, giving you a wounded look. “Stacey tell you that? Don’t be jealous, baby.”

“Miranda.”

He has the decency to hesitate, eyes darting across the room before back to you. “Well, someone had to be my shoulder to cry on.” You snort at that and he grins, shifting closer again and almost backing you to the wall. “And don’t worry about them, that’s business.”

You were pretty sure whatever that was you had walked in on in the copy room hadn’t been ‘business’ but you don’t point it out. Miranda hadn’t been the same, something viscerally off about her, ever since.

“You,” he leaned into you and you felt a cubicle wall at your back, “you would be nothing but pleasure wouldn’t you?”

“We are at work.”

“Most couples meet at work.”

“We’re not a couple.”

“We’re not a couple, yet.” He takes a deep breath and frowned. “You don’t take good care of yourself.”

“Excuse you?”

It came out close to a shriek, several heads turning your direction. Max gave them a dazzlingly wide smile and as one they smiled back. Even Richard, the grumpiest at the best of times, blushed. He blushed.

“You’re not eating right.”

By all that was holy in the world, you were going to slap the ever-loving shit out of this man. He wasn’t even looking at you, eyes scanning the room while he talked out of the corner of his mouth. “Dave is doing his speech,” you try to point out but Max gives you his attention long enough to roll his eyes.

“Don’t change the subject, babydoll.”

“What subject?”

Max takes the proverbial shovel you offer. “You’re gaunt. You’re not getting the right vitamins.”

“From the man who has an ‘allergy’ to sunlight.”

The grin he gives you is wolfish. “That’s documented. I have a doctor’s note.” You can’t help the small smile and of course he notices. “There now, was that so hard? I’m being charming all over the place here.”

“Why?”

The word is a hiss of air and he blinks at you, confused. “What do you mean, why?”

“You’ve fucked half the office.” You try very hard to keep your tone too low for anyone else to hear. “Am I keeping you from bingo or something?”

Another one of those deep breaths and he leans in to you, so close you think he might actually nuzzle you. “I like you.”

You snort, turning away.

“I do.” He scans the room again before he turns, blocking your view with his wide shoulders. “Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“I said no.”

There’s silence for several heartbeats before he admits, “You intrigue me.”

“You’re a liar.”

“All the time,” he concedes. “But not right now. There’s something for my people, a knowing of sorts…”

He trails off and you can’t help but ask, “Your people? Wasps?”

“Something like that.”

“Max Phillips!” The call of his name comes from out of the blue.

“Gotta run, sugar tits, duty calls.”

Of course he’s won the sales award. He shakes the CEO’s hand while accepting the plaque, turning and smiling - not pausing for even a moment when he realizes no one is going to take his photo. It doesn’t stop him from playing mayor of the cubicle farm, waving at a few people before stepping to the side. You notice him looking at you and studiously avoid meeting his eyes.

The secret Santa starts and you take a quick tally of how many people participated this year. Even if half the people make a fuss about it, you should be able to leave in fifteen minutes - twenty tops.

Since Max won the award he gets to go first, picking up the box you had carefully wrapped and tearing into it with the gusto of a toddler. He fingers the silk and you swear his eyes dart to where you’re standing. 

There is no way he could know you’d bought it for him. No way.

“Looks like we may have a tie for best present.”

People laugh at his terrible joke and he steps to the side, letting the next person fetch their mug. You try to be surreptitious as you gauge his reaction. Does he like it? Does he think it’s tacky? With one hand he pulls off the one he’s wearing and loops the length of red silk around his collar, deftly tying a full Windsor.

It looks good on him.

Dammit.

Your name is called and you shake yourself out of your stupor, avoiding looking to the side. The present is in a bright orange bag - not even a holiday color - and stapled closed. You reach in and pull out the small bottle.

“Iron supplements.”

There’s a small scattering of applause and you stare at the offending object for so long the new HR lady has to gently move you aside. 

Iron supplements.

Your secret Santa got you fucking iron supplements.

“You don’t look happy.”

The tie you so carefully picked out mocks you. You put thought into his present - and your Santa did what? Clean out their medicine cabinet? You wouldn’t be surprised if the bottle was already open.

No, you were not happy. You were fuming.

“You look pale.”

“Shut up.”

“And you’ve been having headaches lately.”

“How would you know?”

“I told you, you intrigue me.”

Something clicks and you finally look up at him, bottle clenched in your fist. “This was you?”

“You’re anemic.”

He sounds so absurdly reasonable you barely resist the urge to kick him. “You are not my doctor.”

“Do you have a doctor?”

You don’t, not that he needs to know that.

“If you did they might tell you your iron count is dangerously low. You should get checked for an autoimmune disease.”

“I do not have an autoimmune disease.” Derek shoots you a surprised look and you give him a wide smile before jerking Max’s arm and pulling him into a supply closet. “This is not appropriate. On like a hundred levels.”

“Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Tell me.”

“Don’t take that tone with me.” You shove a finger into his chest. “You may get other people to leap to your bidding but I’m not one of them.”

“I know,” he grins, “it’s fantastic.”

“Fantastic?” you repeat.

“Fantastic.” He’s faster that you expect, grabbing your wrist and flattening your palm to his chest. “Why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

He sounds genuinely concerned and you deflate, giving in. “I don’t have the money for fresh food. I’m living off ramen at the moment, okay? I’ll probably develop scurvy soon.”

“We pay you a decent amount - not what you’re worth, of course - but market value.”

You don’t bother asking how he knows that. “My ex took a loan out in my name. I’ve been paying it off.”

“Why isn’t he paying it off?”

“Because he’s an asshole and I can’t make him do anything.”

“Want me to kill him for you?”

It’s said so casually you almost think he means it. “It’s fine. It’s only another year. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to get rickets.”

“Isn’t that what Tiny Tim had?”

He nods. “Yes, and you’ll be begging for a Christmas bonus just like he did, too.”

“I think that was his dad.”

“Which one did Kermit play?”

You scoff, trying to pull your hand away from him. “Have you only ever seen the Muppet version of a Christmas Carol?”

He doesn’t let you go. “It’s the only one worth seeing.”

“Max,” you say softly. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, for worrying about me. Even if this-” you hold up the supplements with your other hand “-is by far the worst gift I have ever gotten.”

He gifts you with that wide, easy smile of his. “Let me buy you dinner, to make up for it.”

“Sure you don’t already have a date?”

“I’d cancel any plans for you.” If you didn’t know better you’d say he was serious.

“Big words, don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

“I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

He’s standing close, so close your chest brushes his when you take a breath. “Max…”

Tingles shoot to your fingertips as his lips capture yours. A rush of heat floods through you and you can’t help but moan when he sinks his fingers into the back of your neck. The sound he makes is close to a growl, his mouth opening and his tongue is suddenly there, licking at the seam of your lips.

Would it be wrong to climb him like a tree in the supply closet?

He apparently has the same idea, lifting you from underneath your ass with an ease that takes your breath away. Your back is pressed to the wire shelves and his hips settle between your thighs as though he’s always belonged there. Your neck arches into the palm of his hand and he nuzzles beneath your ear.

“Take your damn iron pills.”

“What?”

“Your iron,” his teeth scrape along your jaw, “and maybe a multi-vitamin too.”

You were going to slap him. Just soon as your head stopped spinning from his kiss.

For updates on stories please follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

Tagging in @almostfoxglove once more. Hope you liked your Max.

[leaentries]

Red | jack hughes

backstory - next

summary: when jack meets a bombshell of a girl, his life is bound to change.

warnings: swearing, lil bit of arrogant jack

wc: 2k+

a/n: welcome to my new series! this will follow jack and red as they navigate through the ins and outs of new love. if you have any requests or thoughts regarding jack and red, please send them in!

His world was flipped the second he met her. His Red.

Live chattering filled the dimly lit bar, as a certain chill settled in the cracks of the wooden walls. Winter did not come to play this time of year. The howling wind could still be heard over the loud voices in the room. With every creak of the front door, more frigid air rushed in, gripping whoever was near. 

Bright noses and ears scattered about the patrons, who eagerly down their alcohol in an attempt to warm up the frosted bones beneath. The old dinky clock on the back wall lamely rang as the time hit the hour. It was officially the next day, yet Jack and his team still swarmed the back left corner of the room. 

Joy was very evident to whoever gazed upon the mass of hockey players, or anyone who paid any attention to the TVs in the room. The New Jersey Devils had just won their best game thus far, winning by a complete shutout against their rivals. To say they were pumped would be an understatement. 

Strong bodies and their accompanied ladies made their way to the dance floor, leaving behind the select bachelors of the bunch. Although adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he was still riding the high of winning, Jack couldn’t help but watch as his teammates celebrated with their partners. 

The lowly sound of Nico and Dawson’s conversation echoed in and out of Jack’s ears. Now, Jack knew, regardless of how shallow it seemed, that he could easily have his choice of bunny to dance with. Truth be told, he had begun to grow tired of hooking up with random girls every weekend. 

Jack craved something deeper. He craved something real. So, there he sat, in the back booth with a beer in his hand, secretly wishing he had his own girl by his side. 

❥.

Another hour or so had passed, the clock now reading 1:15 a.m., yet the team seemed to have every intention of shutting the place down. Another round of shots was brought to the table, courtesy of Erik, causing a new rise of cheers to be heard. Jack jumped slightly, as Dawson shoved a small glass of brown liquid into his hand. 

“C’mon, man! What’s up with you?” Dawson questioned as he noticed Jack staring into the glass. Jack was quick to plaster a small, but convincing smile on his face. 

“Nothing. I’m all good, just a bit tired after the game, that’s all.” Dawson looked skeptical and opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off as Jack swiftly drank the potent liquid. 

“Atta boy, JackJack!” Dawson’s attention moved away from Jack as Luke showed him something on his phone. 

A deep sigh left Jack’s throat, easing the burning sensation. His eyes traveled around the bar, this time noting that they seemed to be the last ones left. He wanted to go home, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave as he saw how happy his team looked. 

Jack excused himself from the table, opting to go recoup in the bathroom for a few peaceful moments. Making his way towards the other side of the bar proved to be more difficult when he had drunk hockey players flinging themselves as he passed. Jack continued his way through, ignoring all of the concerned looks he got as he pushed his friends off.

He picked up his pace, practically slamming the bathroom door closed once he was inside. He let his hands rest on the sink as he attempted to even out his breathing. Jack wasn’t even completely sure why he was freaking out in the first place. It’s not like he has to be single, he has lines of women at his beck and call. 

But, there is something different about the emptiness in his chest that he just can’t seem to shake tonight. Jack turned on the faucet, gently patting his face with some cool water to help dissipate the redness covering his cheeks and neck. 

He reached over to grab a paper towel when the door slammed open. Jack turned around abruptly, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion. But what caught him off guard the most was, not the interruption, but the fact that it was a girl. In the men's bathroom. 

“Excuse me?” Jack exclaimed, visibly irritated by the girl. The girl's eyes widened, before stepping back to look at the sign on the door.

“Oh shit!” She met Jack’s eyes with an awkward laugh, “Apparently this isn’t the women's bathroom.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, “Great observation there, genius.” 

The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise at his snappy tone. She understood her mistake, but that did not give him a reason to be rude. Before saying anything, she took into account who he was. Not that it mattered, but she did not want to start beef with Jack Hughes. 

She remained silent, her lack of response egging Jack on. 

“Look, I get it. You’re a fan, but I’m trying to have some privacy. The least you could do is respect that. You didn’t have to barge into the bathroom just to see me.” 

Oh hell no. 

It occurred in that moment, that she no longer cared who he was. The arrogance melted in waves off of him and she needed to snuff that out real fast.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you’re talking to, but it sure ain’t me.”

Jack was taken aback by her rebuttal, not failing to note the southern twang in her voice. He then realized how insanely attractive the fuming girl was. Her flaming ginger hair fell in waves down her back, which provided a stark contrast to her bright green eyes. They were big and round, yet held so much fire. Her nose was small, yet curved up slightly, creating a slope. Jack found himself wanting to trace his fingers down it. 

He was snapped back into reality as her vibrant red lips opened once more. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I know who you are, Jack Hughes,” She mimicked, “But If I wanted to see your dick that bad, I’d have no problem getting you in my bed.” 

Jack scoffed, “Oh is that so?”

She took a few steps forward.

“It’s no secret you get around Jack,” She brought her hands around his shoulders, “Your dick is more famous than you at this point.” 

Jack would be lying if he denied the jolt that his cock made at her comment.

“You know, Red, you shouldn’t talk about my dick if you don’t plan on giving it attention.” Jack wasn’t sure what changed his mood, possibly the most sexy woman he had ever seen talking about his cock. Maybe a hookup wouldn’t be the worst thing to come of the night.

A wicked grin found its way to her full lips as she brought them to his right ear. Her body pressed against his deliciously. With a low whisper, she replied, “Like hell.” 

She pulled away quickly stepping back. Jack frowned at the loss of her warm body. His eyes gleamed longingly at the door as she made her way out without a second glance at him. 

Jack was left by himself once more, this time with a painful hard-on and thoughts of his mystery girl. 

❥.

Once he calmed himself down, Jack left the bathroom and began to make his way back to his team. He was about halfway through the building when a streak of red hair caught the corner of his eye. He turned to see her sitting at a bartop, engrossed in her laptop that sat in front of her. 

Jack acted on a whim and decided he wanted, no needed, to figure this girl out. He walked up to the bartop, sliding into the seat beside her. 

She didn’t even bother to look up, “Look Bubba, go find somewhere else to sit. I am very clearly busy.” She barked. Jack chuckled at her response. 

“Wow, Red, you’re very feisty this evening.” The girl snapped her head up, meeting Jack’s icy blue ones. She let out a huff, shaking her head slightly. 

“What? You decided to grace the common folk with your godly presence, Jacky?” She gave him a pointed look before continuing, “Also, don’t call me Red. I have a name, you know.”

“You haven’t given it.”

“You haven’t asked.”

Jack smiled. The way she manages to challenge everything he says is addicting and he wants more.

“Alright then, what’s your name?” Jack questioned, quirking his head to the side. Boy, was he more than happy to play her game. 

“Y/n.” 

“Nah, I still prefer Red.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, opting to turn her focus back to her computer. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed at the lack of attention she gave. 

“Am I not entertaining enough for you, Red?” 

She looked back up from her project, turning to him. “Look, Jacky, I already told you in the bathroom, I’m not looking to hook up with you. Nor do I want to,” She sucked in a breath, “Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to focus on my article.”

Jack did not like the idea of giving up, so he let his curiosity get the better of him. He turned her laptop towards him, provoking protest from the red-haired girl. He was taken by surprise at the title:

A backtrack on the Devil's season: Did Jack Hughes save the team?

Jack couldn’t help but smirk, his ego rising a few notches. 

“Writing articles about me, huh? I gotta be honest with ya, Red. With the way you’ve been arguing all night, I never would have guessed you were my biggest fan.”

Y/n scoffed, a bewildered look on her face. “Ha! That’s rich.” She tugged her laptop back, “I was given this assignment, I would never write about you willingly. You’re a good player Jacky, but some of your other teammates deserve the hype too. All the major networks are too busy fawning over you, that they miss what contributions are being made by the other players. Last time I checked, it’s not just Jack Hughes on the ice.” 

Even though she was complaining about him, he couldn’t help but cling to her every word. It was captivating, how passionate she got. Especially over something that Jack’s life revolved around. 

She continued, but was cut off by Jack, “I agree with you.” 

Y/n cocked her head, “You…agree with me?” Baffled would be an understatement. She assumed Jack would be flying, boasting about being the number one topic in the NHL right now. 

“Yes, I agree. My team is just as important, we wouldn’t be winning with just me. It’s a team effort and I think more people should be writing about that. Everyone on that ice is crucial to the game, so I appreciate you seeing that.”

Everything he said was true. He truly did believe that he would be nowhere without his team, they were his family. Y/n could see the tenderness in his eyes. Against her better wishes, she found it attractive how he cared for his team.

She shook away those thoughts, “Anyways, Jacky, I am super busy finishing this article, so…” She trailed off, hoping he would get the subtle hint. She would never let on that she was enjoying their conversation. 

Jack wasn’t blind to her attempts to get him to leave but refused to go without assuring him he’d see her again. 

“I could help you,” He offered. She gave him a questioning look.

“I mean, you seem to be struggling to come up with what to write about me. So, I can help you. You can ask me any questions you want…” 

She raised an eyebrow, sensing his wanting tone, “What’s the catch?” 

“Go on a date with me.” 

She almost immediately said no, but considered what this article could do for her career. Everyone in her network wanted to write about Jack Hughes, yet somehow she was the one who managed to get stuck with the assignment. Was she willing to put up with an entire date just for the chance to get new intel no one else had? 

Y/n had hoped not, but alas, she knew what she needed to do. 

“Fine,” Jack’s eyes lit up at her compliance, “Only one date, after that we split and never talk again.”

“You got it, Red.”

[moscnios]

          ✩༄ diet mountain dew ! | red-haired shanks.

☆ — pairing! . . .  mobster!shanks x bartender!f!reader.

☆ — summary! . . .  as a mob boss’s kid who is sheltered from the underground, there’s only a handful of things your old man wanted you to be aware of. one of those things were men you shouldn’t hang around. number one on the list was him, the one with the red hair, the mobster giving your old man the most trouble. you would never break your promise to your old man, would you?

☆ — cw(s)! . . .  mafia!au.  nsfw.  afab!reader.  ( “cunt” / “core” used to describe genitals among others ) no pronouns used.  reader wears a short dress.  age gap.  reader is implied to be in their early 20s.  sub!reader.  fingering.  oral.  ( f and m receiving )  facefucking.  overstimulation.  piv.  unprotected sex.  shanks calls the reader “angel” and “gorgeous”.  reader calls shanks “red”.  alcohol consumption. not proofread.  MINORS DNI. 

☆ — wc! . . .  3.4k.

☆ — notepad! . . .  i promised someone a shanks smut...i couldn’t stick to the original script so as an apology, i give you mobster!shanks and rival boss’s kid <3 wow! that summary was not good lmaoooo

You shouldn’t!

You can’t!

If they caught you like this! You’d be dead!

The voice in the back of your head grew stronger, and louder with every rough touch, every passionate kiss, every pretty shallow moan, and sigh that escaped from your bruised lips into his mouth. The voice of reason, screaming at you, to stop, to remember the consequences, as your hands found their way into his hair, gently tugging at his dark red locks, pulling him closer, deeper into you. The feeling of his strong chest finally pressed against yours, made you shiver.

You could feel the redhead smile briefly against your lips before finally breaking your kiss. You stared breathlessly at him. His dark, lust-filled eyes stared back at you with want, with need. Before you could catch your breath, he spun you around, entrapping you between his body and the cold bar. You could feel his bulge pressed against your ass.

With a light satisfied hum, you leaned over the bar, your bare cheek touching the cool surface. The redhead had followed suit, letting his broad chest press against your back. His lips grazed the top of your ear. “You look so fucking beautiful bent over this bar, Angel,” He whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine, “I’m gonna take such good care of you.” The redhead kissed down to your neck that you would be covered in deep purple blotches, come morning. You could feel his smirk on your hot skin. Everything was pointing to this being a bad idea, to him being a bad idea.

There were many titles you had come to know the redhead by since you had become old enough to listen in on the family trade. Listening intently from behind the bar to the mobsters you had come to know as older brothers, sitting around the poker table with a cigar hanging from their mouths and a handful of cards.

The Red Devil. Eyes of Death.

But one stuck out to you the most.

“The bastard you should stay away from”, You remembered your father’s words, with that harsh glare that you and the others had become all too familiar with. You had nervously brushed it off, reassuring your father that you wouldn’t even dream of being in the same room with an enemy of the family, let alone him.

Nobody could be that stupid to just waltz into enemy territory so carelessly, let alone set foot in the speakeasy operated by the boss’ kid! It was suicide! Though you have never seen the things your father and his underlings do to those they call enemies, you heard a few of the gruesome rumors. Just what man would even risk that?

Who else than the fearless redhead himself?

The door to your bar opened and closed, as your back was turned. You could not help but roll your eyes, as you pointed to the clock on the wall across the room, “We’re closed, you know.”

“Aww, you close pretty early for a Saturday night, gorgeous,” An unfamiliar voice reached your ears. You could hear the playful disappointment in his tone. You nearly felt his pout through his words.

Your words did not seem to turn him away. You could hear the heels of his boots, getting closer before stopping altogether. You could hear the stranger plop down into one of the bar stools, making himself all comfortable right after you told him you were closed, “I take it you’re not a night owl then.” He teased.

“And I take it you’re not good at following directions,” You retorted, your back still turned to him, finishing up stocking the bar shelves.

“Something like that.” He laughed.

You were starting to get irritated, “Look. For the last time, we’re closed. We closed almost an hour ago. You can either come back tomorrow or I bring somebody in here to come retrieve you. My folks ain’t too friendly to people who...” You finally turned around, your eyes finally meeting his.

Shanks, the boss of that ragtag group of mobsters from the east side of town. The ragtag group of nobodies pushing themselves onto other families’ territories because they had gotten too big for their own britches, you heard your father say once. They wanted a hand in everyone’s business, by any means necessary. Even if it meant spilling a few pints of blood.

He was a dangerous man, even more so than the men you had known all of your life. And he stumbled his way into your speakeasy out of all of the ones on this side of town. He had to know what he was doing here. There was no way it was just luck.

“Your folks ain’t too friendly to people who do what exactly?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish your sentence, “Cat got your tongue?”

There was no amount of front you could put on that would fool him. The way his dark eyes bore into you, he could read you easily. He noticed you swallow shallowly. He almost instantly lost the intimidating aura that surrounded him, a playful one taking its place as he let out a hearty laugh, “I’m just messing with you, Angel.”

Angel.

Running this bar, you thought you heard all the pet names there were to hear. But Angel…felt different, especially coming from his lips. You almost didn’t mind it, but only from him.

You took a good look at him. You had seen pictures of the greedy bastard before. But seeing him in person you realize those photos weren’t doing him any justice.

He was a gorgeous man and by the way he carried himself, you knew that he knew it too. He was confident. He was mature. His rugged look and the aged scars that covered his tanned skin added a nice charm. The top buttons of his button-up were left undone, giving you a nice glimpse at his strong, hairy chest. He took very good care of himself. You wondered if he had done the same on the lower half.

“I don’t mind being gawked at by a pretty thing such as yourself. But I think a deserve a drink if you’re just gonna stand there and eye-fuck me, don’t you think?”

You dropped your eyes to your station. You could feel your body burning. He was vulgar and blunt. Something you weren’t used to in this business. Your father’s high rank often made others scared to even look at you when the boss was around.

No funny ideas about the boss’s kid! But him? He didn’t care. Maybe because he was older than most of these mobsters who worked for your father. Perhaps because he had much more experience under his belt. Whatever it was, it was doing something for you. And you wanted to have a bit of fun.

You fixed the redhead a glass of the strongest whiskey you have. You set the glass down in front of him, “It’s on the house.”

“Oh?”

“As a thank you for giving me something nice to look at,” He watched as your eyes traveled down his chest, before meeting his gaze again.

He couldn’t hold his chuckle, “Cute and flirty. I may have just found the best speakeasy and the sexiest bartender on this side of town. Maybe I’ll come back to see you.”

He sure knew how to make a person feel all giddy. As the drinks kept coming, the flirting continued. You were enjoying his company, his words, his eyes raking over your figure wrapped in that minidress that didn’t leave much to one’s imagination.

“You’re going to drink me out of business. That whiskey was expensive, Red.” You frown, shaking the near-empty bottle, to feel just how empty it was, “I should charge this to your tab.” You set the bottle aside, turning to the buzzed mobster sitting on the other side of the bar. After drinking nearly the entire bottle, he seemed only a little tipsy. Just how often did he drink?

“Aww, don’t be like that, Angel. You had a few swigs too,” He whined.

“But the difference is I own the place. You? You’re here to flirt your way into a few drinks and walk out without paying, huh?” You teased, boldly leaning over the bar top, your face just inches away from the most dangerous man in town. And here you were, welcoming said danger.

Shanks smirked, downing the last corner of the whiskey in his glass, leaning towards you until the tips of your nose had grazed one another’s, “Without paying? What kind of man you take me for? I’ll pay you back tenfold and then some in ways these little boys that run around here can’t. I’ll make you feel like the only one in the world.” His tone had darkened.

“Yeah? What kind of payment are you looking to treat me to, Red?” You played coy.

“Come around the bar and I’ll show you, Angel.”

Which is how you ended up here, bent over the bar with his body pressed against yours, his rough lips trailing down to the base of your neck. You wanted this. You need this. You craved this, you craved him. To hell with the consequences, you needed him.

He pulled away suddenly, straightening himself back up. He wasted no time, flipping up your minidress to reveal your ass, “Such a perfect ass. You wanted me to see you like this, huh? This little fucking dress you got on. If you can even call this little thing a dress.” His hands gently caressed your ass, as he focused on your already-soaked panties, “Never have I seen a dress so short. If you bent over earlier, I’d see everything. But you’d like that wouldn’t you, Angel? You’re already dripping. Slip out of these for me.”

You nodded your head, helping him pull down your drenched panties. You stepped out of them, letting them fall to the floor. You reached for the zipper of your dress next, “The dress too?”

“The dress stays on. Need to fuck you good in this so you remember me every time you put it on.”

You unconsciously squeezed your thighs together at his words, reaching around to capture his lips in a short kiss. He pulled away from your lips, giving your ass a tight squeeze. He placed two fingers on your bottom lip, “Suck. Get them all nice and wet for me.”

You took his digits into your mouth, coating them. Once they were drenched to his liking, he pulled them out of your mouth, replacing them with his lips on yours in a sloppy kiss. He used his foot, to spread your legs further, bringing his drenched digits down to your core. He slid his fingers up and down your entrance, before sliding them inside of you painfully slow, making you moan into his mouth.

He began to pump his fingers into you, pulling away from your lips, “This okay?”

“Better than okay. Your fingers feel really good.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He latched onto your shoulder, sucking and licking at your skin, as he drove his thick digits in and out of you, curling them. His pace grew faster in response to your moans. He needed to hear more, he wanted you to be loud. He needed to hear just how good he was making you feel, letting all your worries wash away and be replaced with pleasure.

Your body began to wrench underneath him. You were close, so dangerously close. And he knew it. He could feel your walls contracting around his fingers. “Close, Angel?” He said into your shoulder, earning a frantic nod from you.

Very suddenly, his lips parted from your shoulder and he slipped his digits out of you. Before you could whine about the loss of contact, how you were so close, the mobster carefully dropped to his knees, shoving his face into your cunt, burying his hot tongue into you. Finally tasting you, he hummed in delight.

“Fuck!” Your body shuttered, reaching your high on his face. He helped you ride out your first orgasm on his tongue, but he continued to lap at your folds from behind, whispering praises you couldn’t even focus on due to the slight sting of overstimulation washing over your body. You tried to lean away from his mouth, though the mobster had other plans, wrapping his arm around to keep you moving too far. “I’m not finished with you yet. Be a good little barkeep and take everything I give you.”

You gripped tightly onto the edge of the bar, pushing your ass back to meet his tongue, fucking yourself on the muscle. Though you could not see him, from his delighted hums and the way his fingers gripped into the plush of your skin, you knew he was enjoying himself too.

It was not long before the second band of pleasure began to build up inside of you. Feeling you contract around his tongue, his large hand found its way back to yours, intertwining your fingers. You gave his hand a tight squeeze before cumming. Your second orgasm washed over you even more intensely than the first. Your legs had nearly given out, if you weren’t trapped between him and the bar, you would have likely fallen.

He helped you ride out your second orgasm, before letting go of your hand. His hand found the bar to use as a crutch to stand. He used the back of his hand, to wipe the glistening arousal still left on his chin, “You may taste much better than the whiskey. But maybe I need another taste to compare the two.”

After catching your breath, you slowly turned around to face him. You watched the redhead reach for the whiskey bottle, taking the last swig. He looked between you and the empty bottle, “I was correct, you taste better.”

You roll your eyes. “Even after all that, you’re still adding to your tab.”

“I can pay it off now, don’t you think?” He pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving your hands pressed onto his chest. Everything about him was intoxicating. He was addicting. You just could not get enough of him.

Your hands had found themselves on the buttons of his shirt, undoing the rest of them. He reluctantly pulled away from your lips, helping you slip his shirt off. You fiddled with the button and zipper of his trousers, undoing them before palming his bulge. He sighed softly, his dark eyes never left yours. “If you didn’t owe me for the whiskey maybe I’d return the favor this time,” You teased.

“Oh, how mean,” He chuckled, “You’ll have plenty of chances to return the favor later.”

“Oh? I will?”

“Absolutely,” He placed a peck on the tip of your nose, sealing his promise. “Spin around again for me.” You spun around in his warm hold, finding yourself bent over the bar for him again. You flipped up your dress this time. Though a piece of you wanted to see him, all of him, you sure didn’t mind being bent over like this, with nowhere to run, the man you shouldn’t be with pinning you down. It was all just such a rush.

Shanks pulled his trousers down just enough to free his hardened cock. He suddenly guided his length along your folds, using your arousal as lubricant. The action made you jolt in surprise. Against your entrance, you could feel how thick he was. You could even feel the prominent veins running down his shaft.

“You feel me, Angel? What you do to me? Huh?” He purred lowly. You hummed in response, eagerly anticipating feeling him deep inside of you. Shanks lined his length up with your entrance, guiding his length into your dripping core. You both let out a drawn-out moan as he bottomed out. The stretch of his cock inside of you was delicious. You’ve never felt so full.

The redhead leaned down, kissing up from your shoulder to your neck, “Fuck, you feel better than I imagined. I should just whisk you away after this.”

You grinned, tossing your head to the side to give him more access to your neck, “I wouldn’t mind for a day.”

“All I get is one day?”

“Fuck me right and I’ll consider adding a second.”

“Such a fucking tease,” He whispered, kissing your lips as he began to rock his hips into yours. He rolled out, leaving the tip before sinking back into your cunt, moaning against your lips. He set a slow but deep pace into you, as he kissed you, swallowing every moan and whimper you were giving him.

His pace gradually grew. His thrusts had grown fast and rough. He let go of your lips, groaning a hushed fuck into your shoulder. Your speakeasy was filled with the sound of his hips pounding your ass into the bar, your moans, and his low curses and praises of you.

“You’re taking me so well. So fucking well,” He praised. His hand moved from its place on your hip, down to your clit to rub rapid, messy circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He didn’t miss the way you shivered at the sensation. The way you gripped tighter onto the bar, the way your eyes had wired shut. “My pretty angel.”

He leaned close to your ear, “You like being fucked like this? Huh? Knowing anyone could just walk in and see you like this? To see you for what you truly are? I need your words, gorgeous.”

“YES! I LOVE IT, SHANKS!”

“Oh, so you can say my name. How cute.” He could feel your walls start to contract again. A cocky grin appeared on his features, “You gonna cum again, Angel?”

“YES! FUCK YES!”

“Cum.” He grunted into your ear, sending you over the edge once more. You shuttered underneath him with a loud cry of his name, coating his cock in your juices. Your orgasm had nearly brought him to his end. He shut his eyes tightly, as he focused on hitting that high. His thrusts were sloppy and uneven, he was so close, “I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?”

“My mouth.”

“Yeah?”

The redhead pulled out, stroking his cock, as he watched you spin around and drop to your knees. You swatted away his hand, replacing it with yours, as you took him as deep as you could into your mouth.

“FUCK!” He shivered under your touch, your hot mouth, shooting ropes of his warm cum down your throat. His hand found its way to the back of your head, pushing you further onto his cock, as he gently thrusted into your mouth to ride out his orgasm. After a deep sigh and a hearty laugh, he pulled his length out of your mouth. “Get your pretty ass up here.”

You climbed back up to your somewhat still wobbling feet, nearly falling into him, as he crashed his lips onto yours. You were the one to pull away this time, “You should get outta here, Red. I don’t want my folks to see you here.”

“You kicking me to the curb like that? I’m hurt,” He pouted, “Aw come on, the night is still young. We can do whatever you like. Hit up another bar, go for a nice drive through town…” He trailed off, reaching for the hem of your dress, “…maybe take this thing off back at my place. We can do whatever your little heart desires. Just be my angel.”

“You want me to be your angel for the night?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, my angel for a lifetime,” He clarified, stepping behind you, peppering your neck in open-mouthed kisses. You tried your hardest to act uninterested. You folded your arms across your chest, crossed your legs, and pretended to be annoyed at his affections.

A one-night stand was one thing, but being with him was something different. There was no turning back then. There was no telling what your folks would do if they found it, even if they found out about him being here. Could you risk it? Would you risk it?

He was no good for you. But it made you desire him even more. Just...just this once. Just...him. You needed to have him.

What the family didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, right?

© MANGEKYUOU — do not copy, repost, or translate my works.

[shxnigxmi]

[𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓!𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄] [ᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

That one scene from El Dorado that’s popular on COD TikTok right now—

c/w: giving ghost the gawk gawk (not detailed or specified), vulgar language, price is a cheeky devil, ghost is actually a tease beneath all that brooding and sadness— idc argue with the wall

🔞 MINORS/FEM!ALIGNED DNI 🔞

—

“Lieutenant!”

You gasped when you heard Price call for Ghost, the very same Ghost who’s covered in kiss marks courtesy of you, red and purple bruising spanning from his jaw to his neck and all the way down his chest and stomach. The very same Ghost who was kiss-drunk and delirious by your very loving and devoted attention. The very same Ghost who’s cock was all the way down your throat.

“Ghost!” Price called again, waltzing deeper into the armory. Fuck, you couldn’t get caught like this! Insubordination and fraternization were the start of a very long list of punishment awaiting you both if Price happened upon you two. I mean sure, you and Ghost had opted for the furthest and darkest back corner behind the wall of tactical vests, but still—

With another quiet gasp of surprise you pulled your mouth off his dick —much to his chagrin— and sat up quickly. He was quick to follow—

“The Captain!” You cried as you roughly pushed him back down to lying on the ground with a hand on his face. You felt only slightly bad about the impactful thud and loud pop in his back.

“Ow!” Ghost winced but sat up again, a cheeky grin on his face and eyes full of mirth that hung behind a cloud of lust within those rich brown irises.

“What’s the Cap gonna think if he finds you like this with me?” You panicked, of course you knew Price wouldn’t be the one to punish you both for this act of fraternization. And he wouldn’t really rat you out either.. maybe you were being a bit over dramatic but he could still dish out a harsh punishment if he felt like it was needed. And he was probably looking for Ghost because Ghost wasn’t supposed to be here with you right now. Especially not doing this— getting a quick blowjob from you in the back of the armory.

You narrowed your eyes as you clocked the arrogant and pleasured look on his stupidly handsome face.

“Lucky Ghost?”

“For the love of.. just, just— JUST—!”

You scrambled to get him into a decent enough state to stand before your Captain, pulling his mask back down, followed by his shirt to cover the marks on his skin, tugging up his boxers and jeans— harshly pulling up the zipper which he cried at when his junk was pinched at the expense of your rush.

When you heard Price getting closer you stood and pulled him up to his feet with a shocking amount of strength. Then, you were brushing his shirt and pants off and pushing him out of the dark corner— just as Price rounded the end of the corridor and spotted him.

“Ah, Simon.. there ya are.”

“Sir.”

Now, Price had known Simon for a long enough amount of time to notice the little things about him. And he was curious about the disheveled nature about him. It was well hidden to the untrained eye, and maybe to those not close enough to Simon to be able to pick out his tells. Like the way his jeans hadn’t been buttoned—

“You were due to the training fields at 1800 on the dot.”

“I apologize, I was looking for a few handhelds to teach those rookies a few things.”

“Hm.”

—Price decided not to comment on it.

Instead, he grinned. Then he was turning on his heels and making his way back the way he came. Simon watched him as he paced back down the corridor, then he subtly tensed when Price turned his head to look at him over his shoulder as he walked.

“Your button’s undone.”

Okay maybe he did want to comment on it and tease the Lieutenant just a little, the Sergeant too if his assumption on who was in Simon’s pants was correct. Simon flushed beneath his mask as he hurriedly rushed to button his pants back up, but his embarrassment was quickly doused and amusement filled it’s place at his Captain’s next words.

“And tell [Y/Name] he was meant to be on inventory with Gaz. And will now be doing it by himself as a consequence.”

“I’ll make sure he gets the message.”

—

a/n: ghost is so husband 😮‍💨 just wanna kiss him! hold him tightly and love him forever! ❤️

[martiansodas-blog]

Talk me through it

Your sexual experiences were never a priority for your partners. They never even cared for you when it was over. When your friend Joel finds out, he wants to be the one to change that.

Joel Miller x reader

Contents: Smut, age gap, friends to lovers, huge praise kink, aftercare, fluff.

Authors note: My first fic in a few years

Your body in Jackson but your mind a million miles away, you were daydreaming about a man two decades your senior.

What did his hands feel like after a hard day of work? Coarse and dry most likely.

But we’re they gentle when they came in contact with someone else? When they were taking off someone’s clothes…

Snap out of it

He’s simply a regular at the bar. An acquaintance. And even that was pushing it. The only people he truly softened for was Ellie and Tommy.

You gaze at the clock : one hour left. The last hour is always the longest. Most customers had filtered out and you were cleaning with your coworker Amanda.

“How did your date go?” You asked

“Didn’t know if he was my type at first, but after he ate me out I decided he was.”

You tried to chuckle with her but your body cringed.

“You enjoy that?” You asked embarrassed.

It seemed like everyone liked it but you. Was there something wrong with you? Dumbfounded Amanda looked back at you.

“You don’t?”

“I don’t know, receiving head is just…boring. It’s not painful, it’s not exciting, it’s just meh. I’d rather move on to the main event, ya know?”

Her expression didn’t change.

“What are you talking about!? Receiving is practically the only thing that makes being born female worth it.” You both laughed as you stood on your tip toes to put a glass away.

Your words made Joel’s whole body stiff.

One night with me. One night with me and I’ll give you the head you deserve. Stupid boys your age don’t know how to pleasure a woman.

He couldn’t say that tho, especially not in public. Hell go for something calmer.

“Maybe you just haven’t been with an experienced enough person.”

You jolt around in shock. You had no idea until now he was in the bar, let alone listening to your conversation.

“Um, yeah, maybe. It’s not a big deal for me.”

You shrugged the topic off and quickly turned around making yourself busy. You went beat red knowing the most attractive man in town heard about your sex life, or lack thereof.

It’s a big deal for me, you’re torturing me here.

Joel decided he shouldn’t say anything else and risk making you uncomfortable, it wasn’t his intention. Without saying another word he headed home.

“Maybe he’s right, maybe you should have a night with someone older.” Amanda said in a suggestive voice. When you laughed this time it was out of awkwardness.

“Good one, I don’t think so. Im not one for one night stands. Plus, in a commune this size, Ive had a good look around and haven’t been attracted to any guys.”

Lie.

You and Joel were on good terms. You don’t use the word ‘friends’ because Joel isn’t really friends with anyone. At least he wouldn’t say that. He doesn’t let his walls go down enough for that. But he does care about his inner circle and that’s obvious.

You could tell you were one of the people he softened for. Mainly it was Tommy and Ellie, but somehow you always managed sneak your way in there. Most of the reason being you were giving him drinks.

Your affection for him was one sided, but it didn’t matter. He was never going to find out. Your crush just gave you something to look forward to during work.

• • •

It’s an hour before closing and Joel had yet to come in. Odd. Maybe he was under the weather today.

Pulling you from your thoughts was the bell of the door opening.

Speak of the devil

“Hey! Was wondering when you’d show up.”

He smiled at you. Thats rare. He liked a little too much that you wanted to see him. He wanted to see you too, he just still not good at expressing his emotions and letting people in.

“Whiskey?” You assumed.

“Actually, I was thinking of not drinking here tonight.”

The smirk on his face showed that he had a plan but you couldn’t figure out what in the world it was.

Why would he come to a bar if he wasn’t going to drink?

“How about I be the bartender for once. I hope that’s not forward of me to ask, but would you like to come by my place after your shift? If you’re too tired I understand-“

“Yes that sounds great, yes.” You could hear your smile in your voice.

“Alright then, peach. You know which house is mine. See ya then.” He got up and walked away.

Peach. He’d never called you that before.

Yes, you did know which house Joel lived in, but you’ve never been in it. You wondered what kind of decorations he hung up. Did it smell like him? You could barely stand still the remainder of your shift.

You have to put away your school girl crush.

• • •

As soon as it hit the hour you threw off your apron and went into the bathroom to freshen up.

You wished makeup survived the apocalypse, just a little to make your eyes pop.

What are you doing? He’s not your boyfriend.

You really must stop letting your mind wander. You ran your fingers through your hair and tried to get the smell of spilt beer off you. You don’t know what to expect. You’ve never hung out with Joel like this.

A few minutes later you’re knocking on his door. Nearly vibrating with nerves.

He opens it and

God

There’s that enchanting smile again.

It’s contagious. For a few seconds you two just gaze at each other with grins.

“Hey” you said shyly

“Glad you came, come on in.”

He opened the door as far as it went and you stepped in.

Definitely Joel Millers place.

Not much decorations, but his presence is here. Things Ellie has made for him hung around the living room. Things that survived of his from before the apocalypse. It felt homey. It felt safe.

He led the two of you into the living room. When your legs hit the couch you let out a sigh.

There were already two cold beers and glasses of water on the coffee table in front of you. Normally you don’t like to drink because you’re around it almost everyday and the smell gets annoying. But with Joel it seemed fun.

You both picked up your bottles and instead of making small talk or clinking the drinks together, you just nodded at each other and sipped.

Oh wow, this was actually kind of good. Where did he get this from? You groaned as it warmed your body.

“Haven’t been able to rest that much today. Work was busy. This is nice, Miller.”

He shifted closer to you. Closer than a acquaintance would normally sit. Not that you’re offended, you almost feel flattered. Joel speaks in actions.

“As long as you don’t go tellin people I’m nice.” He joked

“I like nice Joel.” Your voice wasn’t light anymore. “I hope I get to see more of him.”

You knew once those words came out of your mouth that they pushed a boundary. It’s a miracle anyone in this type of world is nice. It’s not an expectation you have anymore.

Your sentence didn’t seem to bother him, though. He stared at you for a few beats. He scooted once again until your knees touched. You’d never been this close to him, it was making your face get hot.

You both seem to have fallen into a comfortable silence, studying each other. There are details on his face you’ve never seen before. He pulled off facial hair like no other. His beard a mix of white, gray and brown.

You don’t know how long it stayed like this, but when you looked up at him to feel out the situation, he wasn’t looking back at you.

He was looking at your lips. You assumed they were dry or you had something on them. Instinctively you licked them.

“Don’t do that to me.” He whispered.

Your heart stopped.

“What?”

Instead of answering he put his hands on each side of your face. You made eye contact and thought you must be dreaming.

I’ve had dreams of him before, this must be another one.

But no. You can smell the drink he had and feel his big hands.

“Do you trust me?” He asked. You didn’t need time to think.

“Yes.”

In milliseconds your lips touched.

If this is a dream I never want to wake up.

The kiss starts gentle. Feather light. Sweet. Your noses bumping into each other. Not at all what you expected from Joel Miller.

You press your face into his to make the kiss more intense, but he puts his hands on your shoulders to keep you where he can be tender.

You pull away. Both taking a moment to process.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks.

You can’t help but laugh because who wouldn’t want him. Especially after that kiss.

“I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

He breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve seen. Any nerves or unfamiliarity between you two is gone.

“Com’ere”

Now you’re both giggling and hugging. So happy that feelings have been confessed.

Your head nuzzled into his neck gave the perfect opportunity to whisper in his ear.

“You’re not going to break me. I want you to kiss me like I’m not delicate.”

Something snapped in him.

Maybe it was your warm breath on his ear, maybe it was that you were close enough to straddling him but not there yet. Maybe it’s because he thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, no, on earth.

He grabs your face with more force this time. Kissing you aggressively. You enjoyed how his fingers dug into your jaw. You gasped and he took the opportunity to introduce his tongue to yours.

He grabbed your legs and settled you over him. It was obvious he was strong but goddamn. He lifted a fully grown woman like it was nothing. It made a fire start in your lower belly.

“I need you. I need you right here on this couch.”

You didn’t respond. Too drunk on him already. You knew once his cock touched you there’d be no thoughts left in your brain.

He chuckled at your state, snapping his fingers to get your attention.

“Sweetheart are you with me?”

“Yeah sorry, I just can’t believe I’m doing this with you. You’ve already made me feel better than any guys I’ve been on dates with and-” your words got muffled by you taking off your shirt. You went braless today.

Now Joel was the speechless one. Staring at your chest. Running his hands up and down your sides.

She isn’t real. She can’t be.

“You’re so … beautiful. Now I really can’t wait, darlin.”

With the same urgency as before he picks you up and laid you out on the couch. Kissing your stomach, not giving you time to process.

He continues kissing down your body while unbuttoning your jeans. He rips them off along with your underwear in one motion.

Jesus, fuck.

“You’re already dripping for me, aren’t you babe?”

“Yes, it’s all for you.”

He lets out a noise that can best be described as feral.

“But, um, you don’t have to do that. It’s not a big deal to me.”

The man looked up at your from between your thighs.

“Will you let me have a taste? If you say stop, I’ll stop.”

“…Okay.”

“Mmm, let me show you how a real man makes you feel.”

All apprehension and doubts you had floated away. Joel licked up both sides of your folds slowly, and you swore you could cum right then.

Your core fluttered around nothing. You needed it again and again and again. He was taking his time with you. Mapping your body out. His tongue making sure to know every inch of you.

The deeper his tongue went, the more your body relaxed. You don’t think it has ever relaxed this much.

The house filled with sinful noises. Your moans, him lapping against you, the couch cousins being gripped.

When he groaned it sent vibrations through your whole body, pushing you closer to the edge.

He went back to licking you from bottom to top. Flattening his tongue as much as possible. Leaving a kiss on your clit before going to the other side.

I love it when he does that. God.

He started to pick up his pace. Inserting his tongue as deep as it goes. Eating you out like a starved man. And he was. You were his new favorite meal. He’s perfectly fine with not getting laid tonight and doing this instead.

“Fuck please- ohh-”

He loves that he can make you sound like that. It makes his cock beg to get out of his pants.

“Joel,” you whimpered out, grabbing his hair.

“I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me. You’re the sweetest fuckin thing.”

His words were sweet but his tone was filthy. It made your back arch. He knew you were close. He kicked it up a notch and inserted a finger in you.

You gasped at the size and feel. You could finally clench around something and your body was so happy.

“Fuck it feels so good! I’m close.”

I know you are

“You’re doing so good.”

He added a finger and moved them in a come hither motion.

You were done for. His calloused hands bringing you to release. He kept pumping in and out of you, getting all he could of your liquid. When he saw you regaining your breathing he removed his hand.

Laying there for a few minutes with half lidded eyes, you felt like you were on drugs. You were trying to find your composure but your body wouldn’t stop tingling.

The man who just gave you your best orgasm crawls up and appears in your view.

“Hey there sweetheart.”

He has the biggest smirk on his face, arms on either side of you. You don’t care. You’d give everything up if it meant you’d get more of his talent in your future.

“That was incredible.” You exhale

“For me, too.”

In what was becoming classic Joel Miller fashion, he presses the gentlest of kisses to your lips, then rests his forehead against yours.

“Did I wear you out?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. I have a lot planned.”

You bite your lip in anticipation.

“Oh yeah, cowboy?”

He liked the nickname.

“Yeah, but I prefer to fuck my pretty lady on my bed.”

With that he stood up and carried you bridal style to his room. It was darker in there with one orange lamp on which made the mood even more sensual. He placed you on his bed and resumed the position he was in before.

“I’m gonna make sure you feel me tomorrow, sweetheart.”

You let out a whimper. Crashing into another kiss.

It was his turn to take off clothes.

You hastily unbuttoned his flannel and threw it across the room. He would laugh at your urgency if he wasn’t just as bad.

You smooth your hand over his new bare skin. Soft with scars. You reached his belt and he pushed your hands away to do it himself. Taking the belt then his jeans off much faster than you could’ve.

You stared at his outline, unable to mask your expression. You can tell he’s big without even seeing it yet. By the smirk on his face, he knows it too. You were really boosting his ego tonight.

“You gonna gawk all night or should I take it out?”

Fuchsia creeping onto your cheeks.

“I don’t think I’ve been with anyone your caliber before.” You say meekly, still looking at his clothed cock.

He bring his face right above yours and tilts your chin so your eyes meet.

“Sweet girl, I’ll be gentle. I’ll start slow for you.”

You’re reassured. You feel safe with him.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

He brings his lips to meet yours once more. Not breaking it while he tugs off his boxers.

Your breath quickens as you get nervous again. He immediately takes notice and strokes your cheek. Caring about you in every touch.

You feel the head of his cock meet your entrance. Your head falls back against the pillows. He takes this as a sign to push in a few inches deeper.

“That’s my girl.”

Your gasps like angels singing. Your legs squeezing around me because you need more.

Joel goes like this for several minutes. Pushing in, letting you adjust, making sure he doesn’t immediately cum, then pushing again.

You needed movement. Unable to control the pleas that left your mouth.

“Joel, fuck me. I can take it. Stretch me out.”

He can’t say no to you. Especially when you’re like this.

He pulls almost completely out of you then slams back in. Going from 0 to 100. His tip touching your cervix.

He was reaching depths of you no man ever had before. You couldn’t help but be loud.

“I know baby, I know. Let it all out.”

His words made you moan even more. You’re so turned on it got caught in your throat. No one had ever talked you through it before. No one had said such dirty things to you while making you feel this good. No one has made you feel as good as you deserved.

“So good. So good for me.”

You were so wet it was seeping out of you and onto the sheets. You’ve had the briefest feel of him and are already addicted. You rolled your hips into him and hooked your legs around his waist. Instantly he groaned at the feeling.

“Just like that baby, there you go.” His low voice registered in your ear. You always admired the sound of his voice but you never thought it’d be praising you. It was a fucking drug.

He kissed you hard on the mouth and it made the little bit of your body you had control over go limp. He took this opportunity to take your hands and pin them together above your head. It turned you on so much, your back began to arch. Anyone within a ten mile radius would be able to hear you.

Joel had to focus to get a complete sentence out because of how tight you were clenched around him.

“You sound so good. I love hearing how I make my girl feel. You’re so spent on my cock, aren’t you?”

You nodded eagerly.

“Of course you are. Never truly been taken care of, have you?

“N-No.” you whimpered.

“Think you can take more of me, sweet thing?” He let your hands go so he could caress your cheek.

You were nervous but you nodded.

“Good girl.” He smirked at you when he said it. He loved how much power he had over you.

He grabs your legs and put them over his shoulder. With intense speed starts fucking you again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he pulled obscene noises from your mouth.

“Oh god oh god”

“That’s my girl. I love being buried in your perfect cunt.”

Your back was arching, your fists were gripping the sheets and your clit was throbbing. Your orgasm was nearing quickly.

Your moans got higher and closer together as your legs squeezed around him.

“Words baby, use your words.”

“Fuck, I’m close. Oh I’m close, oh Joel please. It feels so fucking good.”

He knew exactly what you needed. He circled your clit with his rough thumb and continued to thrust into you hard.

“Good girl, cum for me. Cum on my cock.”

“Oh god oh god-”

You came harder than you ever have before. Leaving a mess on and beneath you. Your ears have a light ringing in them and you were seeing stars. You couldn’t even register if Joel was still near you until you felt a warm washcloth bringing you back to reality.

You opened your eyes and saw him. Someone you knew now you couldn’t live without.

He delicately rubbed one of your legs with one hand and cleaned you up with the other. Making sure you wouldn’t be uncomfortable if you fell asleep right there, which after that experience, was likely.

His actions are a huge juxtaposition to his reputation. He is not stoic and harsh and self centered. He is caring and affectionate and thoughtful.

You smiled up at him while half asleep.

“Thank you.” You managed to choke out. Your voice was half gone.

“Of course, darlin. It’s only the decent thing to do.”

He tossed the cloth on the floor and placed a soft blanket under where you both came. He’d wash the sheets later.

“No guy I’ve been with has really given me aftercare before…”

For some reason saying that was more venerable than the act you just did with him. Your face feels hot.

“You deserve so much more than what’s been given to you. And I don’t just mean with sex.”

You knew if either of you said much else you’d burst into tears. You made grabby hands at him and the two of you fell into a warm cuddle, touching as much of each others skin as possible.

“Goodnight, cowboy.”

He kisses your forehead.

“Goodnight, peach.”

[delicatebarness]

good graces: a cry baby story | prologue

Summary: A new threat is on the horizon for our favorite bikers.

Warning: Mentions of Violence and Law Breaking.

Word Count: 459

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: You didn't think you'd get rid of the gang that easily did you? - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Cry Baby: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez | @am-3-thyst

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan

In the heart of the city, where the sound of engines roaring echoed like the growl of a guard dog, the Avengers rule the streets. They were more than a biker gang– they were a family forged in the fire of rebellion and held together by a shared disdain for the law. For years, they hung from the edge of chaos, their criminal acts shielded by the invisible hand of corruption. That hand belonged to Officer Nicholas J Fury, a man whose badge was as tarnished as the brass it was made from.

Officer Fury had been their guardian devil, a man who wore the blue uniform of justice yet, whose soul was sold to the highest bidder. With well-placed bribes or whispered threats, he kept the Avenegrs’ transgressions buried deep beneath the layers of bureaucratic red tape. The gang’s leader, Steve Rogers, trusted Fury’s greed almost as much as he trusted his family’s loyalty. Fury’s retirement, then, was an unthinkable disruption, a thundering storm cloud on the horizon that threatened to expose them all.

The news broke in the smoky bar that served the Avengers’. It was a dimly lit sanctuary, where the smell of stale beer was mixed with the tang of gasoline and the slightest hint of vanilla. The walls were adorned with the scars of countless brawls. Steve stood at the head of the back corner booth, his face etched in a grimace as he read the headline: “Veteran Officer Nicholas Fury Announces Retirement.” 

Silence fell over the gang as Steve’s voice cut through the din. “Fury’s stepping down,” he announced, his words heavy with apprehension. “In a month, he’s hanging up the badge for good.” 

The booth erupted into a cacophony of curses and anxious murmurs. The Avengers knew what this meant. Without Fury to protect them, every illicit deal and violent act would be exposed to the unforgiving light of day. Their shadows would crumble, and the hounds of the law would be at their throats.

The gang's minds raced, calculating their next move. They had a month to find a new ally within the force or to straighten out. The clock was ticking, and the stakes had never been higher. 

Worried glances and hushed plans were exchanged throughout the booth, and Steve felt the weight of leadership bearing down on him like never before. They had survived countless fights, but this would be their greatest challenge yet. The game was changing and they must learn to adapt or face obliteration. 

As the night wore on, the Avengers laid out their strategy, their plans hinging on precarious possibilities. Steve’s mind was swirling with thoughts and fears, but one thing remained clear– he would protect his family, especially his sister, no matter the cost.

---

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

[orshii]

bitter and sweet

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

Warnings: Use of word "fuck", smoking, alcohol consumption

Word count: 2k

Summary: When you finally quit your job, you need a distraction. Hongjoong happens to be that.

A/N: Am- hi? This is totally new to me, and I would've never uploaded this story, if it weren't for my bestie @bvidzsoo (ly). She kept saying, how good this story was, so Ig I'm here? I really hope you will enjoy it, as much as I did when I wrote this little drabble. Recently I am very whipped for Hongjoong, so yeah...I just had to write this. Anyways, have fun. xoxo orshii

After a whole month of living like a robot: starting work early in the morning, when the sun wasn't even up yet, until when it hid behind again the buildings of our little town; I slowly started to feel like I was losing my mind. The feeling was similar to when your days are just as monotone as the clock on your wall, never changing its course the opposite way. You become one with your regular human life, which is always clouded, always grey just like the clouds above you; there are no colors.

It started becoming overwhelming, I started getting tired of this feeling of emptiness; I felt the void spread through my body every single fucking day. That's when I decided to quit my job, which wasn't even my dream job. I have been working at a fucking bakery as a cashier, of course it wasn't my dream job, whose would it be…

It was a Friday when I quit, so, as I was an unemployed nobody, the best idea was to celebrate that, wasn’t it? My friends were excited to hear my sudden proposal of going to a party, which was held by the town’s biggest brat, Jung Wooyoung; but I didn't care, I needed to get laid as soon as possible. I just wanted an escape from this shit reality, and not to think about what was going to happen in the future now that I was without a job.

 We decided to dress up pretty and sexy for the night with the girls. I was wearing black ripped jeans with fishnets underneath, and a black crop top with some cuts on it here and there, accompanied with my black boots and some accessories.

As we arrived in front of the house of said brat, Wooyoung, we went inside deep into the crowd of swaying bodies, which were flowing with the music. The music was so loud that we couldn't even hear our own voice, the beat punching our chests harshly. The first thing we had to do was to drink, of course, so we headed to the kitchen. We could barely see the furniture inside the kitchen due to the smog filling the air, coming from the people smoking this and that. Finally, somehow we found our love, the meaning of our night:  alcohol. We started to take some tequilas shots, and anything else we found, honestly. We just wanted to get drunk. Me, at least.

Eventually, I somehow found myself around the swaying bodies in the living room, but my friends were nowhere to be found.

I started to dance following the flow of the music; I felt like I could finally breathe, my latest months were hard and I just needed to forget all of the shit that’s happened.

At some point, I felt like somebody was watching me, I don't know how, I’d call it perhaps intuition.

When my eyes finally found the owner of two staring lustful eyes, my breath hitched. I have never seen this man in my entire life before, but as I watched him, my heart just started to race like it never has. My heart didn't even race like this when a fucking bear started to chase me, and that’s no fun.

I felt dizzy, maybe because of the influence of the alcohol or I didn’t know, but the sudden emotions started hitting me like I was a fucking punch bag.

The man was sitting on the couch, he was a bit far, but I could see his devilish smile from where I stood. It’s not supposed to be a joke; but with the red lights of the party, he looked like the fucking devil himself. His raven-black hair fell on his forehead, reaching his eyes, making his glare even more intense as he held a can of beer, leaning over his knees.

I haven't moved since my eyes landed on him but somebody, suddenly, bumped into me, and if I remember the guy's name correctly, it’s San. But I was glad, because I somehow found myself back to reality again, as if the last few minutes were in slow-motion.

I tried not to look at the stranger again, since my friends finally found me and we started to dance together, laughing and goofing around. I would be lying if I said my eyes never searched for the stranger again as he had moved from the couch. I felt a bit disappointed that I might never see him again.

And there was a chance that I actually might see him, and after a while, I suddenly felt two warm hands around my waist. I don't know how, don't ask, but I just knew it was the stunning stranger guy from the couch, with whom I had a staring contest like half an hour ago.

We just weirdly danced to the music, feeling the rhythm as it led our bodies in synchrony. It was weird because he was a total stranger but, somehow, I felt safe in his warm arms. I slowly turned around to finally look at the owner of the warm hands, and I was fucking right. I felt like I was going to melt right then and there like ice cubes on a hot summer day.

Why? Because he was the hottest guy I have ever seen in my life, and I'm not joking, I would never joke about things like that. He looked ethereal, and I don't know what led him to me, but I thank God for it, because it was worth every moment. I looked into his eyes as he was glaring at me sharply. I couldn't read his expression, but I saw a small smirk slip onto his slim lips, so, I reached my arms around his neck. Yes, I felt comfortable like this, after all, he was still holding my waist.

“Hi.” I spoke suddenly. Don't even ask me why I had the courage to even say something to him. That night, my soul has left my body surely.

“Hey.” He said with a low tone, leaning close to my ear so I could hear him. I felt shivers running through my body.

“Wanna smoke?” I asked him with questioning eyes.

He smiled, “Yeah, of course.”

And then, he grabbed my hands and pulled me towards the backyard.

I looked back at my friends, but they were just laughing and shouted, “Go get him!”

It made me laugh as I followed the stranger.

As we finally arrived outside, I felt relieved. The weather was nice, I finally could hear my own voice and I got to inhale some fresh air.

We stopped at the terrace of the house, and I leaned my back against one of the pillars as the stranger across from me did the same thing.

We were quiet for a bit as I enjoyed the fresh air, and I felt him watching me. It wasn't an awkward quiet, it was a comfortable one. I stared back at him, taking in the sight of him as his outfit screamed elegance, but at the same time it was casual; he was wearing all black.

“Aren't you going to smoke?” He asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

“Nah, I don't smoke.” I said with a serious face.

The stranger looked at me, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.

“Then why did you want to come out to—smoke?”

I just shrugged, “I just needed some fresh air, but to not disappoint you—” I started to search for something in my pocket, “I have this.”

I showed him the colorful elf bar, raising it up to his face.

He started to laugh loudly; it was low toned and the sound tingled through my whole body. I loved his laugh.

“Okay.” He nodded, “Then I’m going to smoke a real cigarette.”

He spoke while still smiling as he reached for his cigarettes in his pocket. Damn, he was actually smoking smoking; that’s a red flag, but I like it.

He slowly pulled out a cigarette from the package, and took it in between his parted thin lips, his gaze never leaving mine, only when he lit it up.

I decided to smoke the elf bar which was in my hands. It tasted like a tangle of freshly picked raspberries and blueberries from the wild fields, accompanied with the taste of dark red cherries. I loved the sweet taste as it slowly went down into my lungs, spreading the sweetness everywhere, and then, I exhaled it slowly out into the clear air.

The guy in front of me was staring at my lips as the sweet fog came out from my parted lips.

“Is it good?” He asked, gazing at me.

“It is. It’s sweet, unlike yours.” I said pointing at the cigarette in his hands.

He looked down at it.

“It's not that bad—wanna taste it?” He asked me frowning with a smirk on his lips.

And the look he was giving me sent me to Hell, just for me to return as Lucifer. That's why I was suddenly so bold, out of my mind.

“Do you want to taste this?” I pointed at my elf bar, avoiding his question on purpose.

“Yeah, why not?” He said, stepping closer to me.

I stared at him as an idea came to my mind.

“Wanna double shotgun?” I asked pointing at my elf bar and his cigarette, watching him with inviting eyes.

Just the idea of it was already so exciting, now imagine actually doing it…with a stranger, whom, despite having just met, it felt like I have known him my whole life.

“Hell, yes.” He said in a low tone, it was almost like a thunder. He stepped closer to me, our bodies almost touching, but it seemed like he didn't want to overstep some unsaid boundaries.

And so, I slowly inhaled from the elf bar, inhaling it deep down into my lungs as he did the same with his cigarette, burning the end of it with his inhale.

As we both were ready, we leaned into each other’s bodies, our lips almost touching. We exhaled the smoke at the same time as it tumbled through our parted lips, just to meet with the other's soft lips, inhaling the other's taste. I breathed him in, held it in my lungs, wanting to keep it there forever.

“It's so bitter.” I whispered still leaning close, slowly exhaling the smoke of his cigarette.

“It's so sweet.” He whispered back to me, leaning even closer in, gazing at me with dark eyes, which were telling me so much yet nothing at the same time.

“Wanna taste it on your sweet lips.” He said, reaching out his thumb to brush it against my lower lip.

“Then what are you waiting for?” I whispered against his bitter lips, closing my eyes slowly.

He slowly grabbed my chin and tilted it upwards, and then leaned in to brush his lips against mine. I could taste the bitterness of his cigarette on his lips, blending with the sweet taste of my own lips, which the elf bar has left behind.

Sweet and bitter collided, it was like our own two worlds colliding: he tasted bitter, but somehow, he brought some sweetness into my grey world, painting it slowly full with colors as he brushed his lips against mine.

“You haven’t told me your name.” I said after our lips separated from each other, desiring for more. I wanted to taste him forever.

“Hongjoong.” He whispered, our lips almost touching, “And what's your name, pretty?”

“Y/N” I said, and he smiled at me sweetly as our lips collided again, never wanting to separate.

He filled me up with passion. He made me want to finally step out of my monotone life. I felt like I was alive again. He made my grey life colorful again.

Later on, we were passed out in the back of his car…how’d we let it get this far, I don’t know.

[leeknowsintrusivethots]

Marked By Him

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Pairings: Vampire!Lee Know/OC, Vampire!Bangchan/OC (suprise!!!!) Summary: Vampyres dominate the entertainment world with their otherworldly beauty and talent. It’s a world you must be born into, but a few lucky ones are Marked. Stripped from her home and everything she knows, Minji’s Marking means that she has to rely on the Devil himself, Lee Minho, to be her mentor. He’s cute and sweet to the public, but behind closed doors the monster comes out to play. Content: Angst, Slow burn, lotsa plot, eventual smut, vampires, dark themes, original characters, first person perspective, general 18+ content, alternate idol universe, asshole Lee Know, surprise love triangle, discussion of blood, discussions of death, depictions of violence, sexual tension, petnames/kitten, WC: 4201 Minors do not interact. Do not repost my content to other websites, this includes translations. Notes: Poetaytoes? What's a poetaytoe? Tag List: @linocz

A clock was ticking overhead. The sound was grating – a consistent clicking that vibrated through my head and had my hands clutching the counter until my knuckles turned white. I watched it as the seconds went by, every miniscule movement making me want to rip my own eardrums out so I could no longer hear it. If Vampryic hearing was going to be like this all the time, I was going to go insane. I had thought my breaking point would come at the hands of bloodlust, emotional outbursts, or Minho. I had never suspected my last shreds of sanity would have been stripped away by something so mundane as a clock. 

Trying to ignore it, I let my hand go from the counter to grip the Styrofoam cup before me. Dark black coffee sloshed onto my hands in my haste. For just a brief second, it looked like the deep red, brown of blood. Tantalizing. Rich. Mesmerizing. 

Tick. Tick. Tick. 

My grip on the cup tightened. Holes appeared where my nails sank through the flimsy material. Coffee leaked down my arm and onto my unused work out clothes. 

Tick. 

The cup was on the floor; I was out of my seat. 

The break room was empty save for myself and my whims. There was no one to stop me as I climbed up onto the counter next to the coffee pot with surprising ease. I pulled the clock from the wall with enough force to have the hook that held it flying across the room. The clock followed soon after, shattering against the opposite wall in glass and plastic. 

The ticking stopped. My efforts were met with blissful silence as the shattered pieces settled into place. A wave of sudden calm, until just a few seconds passed and I could hear the sound of footsteps approaching. 

I felt goosebumps prickle my skin, my hair standing up straight. Adrenaline – primal and fierce – coursed through me. I waited as the sounds grew closer. The steps were sure, but hurried. My intruder was on a mission, and I was losing my goddamn mind. 

I was at the JYP building, in the breakroom no less. It was not an intruder. It was just someone going about their business. The only threat to me at the moment was myself and my own destructive instincts.

At the notion, I sighed deeply. It was an attempt to steady myself. I looked at the shattered clock across the room in horror, only barely registering that someone was entering the break room. The door clicked closed and I had to mentally restrain myself from lunging at the person. The mental gymnastics I was putting myself through had my breathing ragged.

“The Kitten climbs.”

“Not now, Fuck Face,” I huffed back through ragged breaths.

Lee Minho watched me with his normal sardonic amusement. He leaned against the door as if he were patiently waiting for a child to stop their temper tantrum. His dark eyes slid from me to the broken clock and back again. The questions flickered over his features, his brows lowering in consternation.

“Get down,” he commanded instead of voicing them.

“No.” My denial was weak, made more out of reflex than any true rebellion. I was tired. Tired of not knowing things. Tired of not being able to control myself. Just tired. 

“I could command you.” There was a challenge in words. It sparked, tempting me to take it, but I couldn't. I wouldn't. He would win and I would just get burned.

Deciding to behave, I dropped from the counter with a thump to the linoleum flooring. My temples cried in agony at the movement and the sound. I rubbed at them angrily when I was firmly on the floor. “How do you get used to the noise?”

“The same way humans do. It eventually becomes white noise, a hum in the background you can drown out at will,” he answered easily as he looked at the broken clock again. I was shocked he answered at all. He was always so vague, so annoying. Every meeting with him left me reeling with questions without answers. I had no hope he would stay this open. 

“Ya know, I could never sleep without a fan on,” I informed him. “I liked the air, but the noise too. It helped me sleep. Now I think I would probably tear the whole electrical outlet out of the wall to make it stop.”

“And what did the clock do to you?”

“It made noise.”

“And the coffee cup?” He asked with a raised brow at the mess in question. It was all over my clothes, but also the counter and floor where I had originally sat. 

“A casualty of the clock.”

“Ah,” he hummed in acknowledgement. “The Kitten is feral, apparently.”

“I feel like it.” I agreed. My emotions were unruly – fueled by instinct and uncertainty. The Change was in control; I was not. It was as close to a feral state as I had ever been.

Minho said nothing in reply. His wide and (unfortunately) beautiful eyes watched me as if in contemplation. I was suddenly very aware of my ill fitting gym clothes and the coffee that stained them. I really wished I had taken up Maeri on one of her billion offers to take me shopping for fitness wear or to borrow hers. The baggy sweats and oversized shirt were doing me no favors. 

“Come on,” he said suddenly into the silence. I almost jolted at the intrusion, his soft voice shaking me out of my appearance induced misery. He turned on his heels to open the door and held it. He was waiting for me. My feet moved even as my brain spun. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Somewhere we can talk,” he answered as we stepped out into the hall. 

“Why can't we talk here?”

“The acoustics are suspect.”

“What does that even mean?” I asked in exasperation as we walked. 

“You're going to make a really shitty Vampyre if you don't learn how to use your senses. Listen, and don't break anything else.”

And so I listened. 

The dull hum of distant conversation tickled my temples, causing them to pound in further irritation. The splash of water somewhere. Harsh, angry strokes of a keyboard. An electronic grinding that I couldn't place. It all blended together into a larger headache that I was no more enlightened for. 

“Are you trying to kill me?” I asked in irritation as I attempted to drown it all out. 

“No,” he answered with a small tilt at the corners of his lips. “I'm trying to teach you. If you can hear it: any other Vampyre can too.”

“So we have no privacy?”

“Notice how you don't hear any music in a company that, well, makes music?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice like syrup melting from a snow cone under a hot sun. He really was intolerable. Before I could snap a witty reply, he continued. “Sound proofing, even for our sensitive ears, is possible.”

We came to a stop outside our normal meeting room. The silver “CR #0” that hung over the door glittered eerily in the fluorescent lighting. I supposed it was fitting. All of my questions started in this damn room. Maybe they would be answered within as well. 

As we entered, my overstimulated brain breathed a sigh of relief. There was silence – total and complete. The dinosaur grandfather clock didn't even make a noise as I took my usual seat with a contentment I hadn't felt since I realized I had the hearing of a badly written superhero. 

“Better?” Minho asked as he took his own accustomed seat. I was half tempted to punch him for breaking my newfound serenity, but I just nodded instead. “The recording studios, practice rooms, and here are all safe if it gets overwhelming. Your room at the dorms is too.”

“Good to know, now tell how I'm tied to you,” I demanded without further preamble. I was desperate for answers and tired of being left in the dark. Determination and stubbornness filled me. I would not leave this room without answers, even if I had to fight for them. 

“I don't think I like your tone, Kitten,” Minho murmured with narrowed eyes. 

“You don't have to like it.”

“Oh?” He hummed, eyes narrowing further and lips tilting in a way that made me equal parts angry and excited. “But you want me to, don't you?”

A tingling. Minor and barely noticeable. It spread like little zaps of electricity on my skin. I shivered, goosebumps dotting my flesh. His eyes held mine, dark and inviting. I did; I wanted him to like me. I wanted him to want me. I wanted –

“What the–” my exclamation was cut short as the electrical current surging under my flesh vanished as fast as it had come. “What did you just do?”

“Me?” He smiled in a way that was so sweet it would give you cavities and make you vomit. “I didn't do anything.”

“Liar. Was that your Aura?”

“Has Felix been telling you things he shouldn't?”

“So you seduce people?” I asked in horror and mild relief. All the things I’ve been feeling and thinking about the asshole across from me were just an odd byproduct of Vampyre physiology and not a touch of sadism. I was glad to know. 

“You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?” He asked, a smile still in place with eyes wide and almost innocent. It was deceiving. He was deceiving: a monster hiding behind a cloying mask. “Auras aren't why we're here.”

“Then why are we here, Lothario?”

“The Bond.” The mask changed, his bored and permanently sarcastic expression slipping back into place. “It's not something that will be covered in your book, and it's not something I should be telling you about at all.”

“Then why tell me? Did Chan make you?”

“Chan encourages. He never forces anything, and he's right. Your Change is happening fast. You need to know.” Resolute, but not passionate. He was going to tell me, but he didn't seem to particularly want to. It was so very much like what I had come to expect from him that I could hardly muster my usual anger and irritation. 

“Then tell me,” I nodded. My own resolve was more steadfast. I was trying to not get my hopes up, but determination was a hell of a beast. Unfortunately, Minho's stubbornness could be an even more fearsome creature. 

“I will, but first I need to explain something relevant. I know you think I'm an ass, and maybe I am,” he said – earning a snort from me that echoed against the towering shelves of books. I opened my mouth to tell him how true that statement was when he stopped me with a glare. “I'm being serious. I need you to know that for the next ten minutes at least; I will tell you what I think you need to know and I need you to respect that.”

“Will you answer my questions?” I asked. 

“I'll try– you certainly are a nosey little shit though,” he answered with a petty little grin thrown at me for good measure. It was my turn to glare before he added,”I’ll answer what I can, and I'll do my best to be honest where I can as well.”

“Fine,” I huffed. I suddenly felt like a kid arguing with their parents to get an extra dessert. I couldn't stop the pout that formed on my face at the thought. I didn't think he was an ass; I knew he was one. 

“Cute,” Minho said with a small chuckle. A chaotic bubble of violence flashed through me like a bolt of lightning, but I fought it. 

“Go on, Mentor. Mentor me,” I quipped with a sarcastic smile and an even more sarcastic wave of my hand to hurry him along with it. He rolled his eyes, and I could feel the tension of further argument welling in the room. He was fighting his own instincts. It was a weird notion; a weird thing to think and feel, but I could. I filled that knowledge away for later. 

“The Bond is what the relationship between a Mentor and Mark is known as in Vampyre circles. It's…” His voice was softer as he explained and trailed off. I could see the cogs turning in his eyes; information reeling as he plucked pieces out for me and concealed others never to see the light of the moon. “It's deeper than human relationships because it doesn't work the same way. It's intense, and it's forced.”

“Forced?” I audibly gulped. The implications of a single word reeling me backward until the blood circulation in my back was threatened by how tightly I pressed into my seat. 

“Yes.” He reached across the desk lifting in his own seat to be able to trace a single, surprisingly warm finger across the skin of my forehead. “Are these Marks a designation of biology or a brand for the world to see?”

Another gulp. My skin tingled in the wake of his touch. Was it the Bond? Or was it the way his wide eyes stared at me like I was puzzle he wanted to solve? Like a prey he wanted to catch? I didn't know, and that was the most frightful bit of it all. 

“Aren't you supposed to be telling me that?” I managed. He sucked his pouty bottom lip between his teeth as his head cocked to the side. It was the image of perfection. A man made for cameras. A man made for the canvases of artistic minds. I forgot – only for a second – why we were in that room until he pulled back and resumed his seat with a soft thump. 

“That's the thing, Kitten. I don't know. For every question you have, I have ten more.”

“But you were born a Vampyre. You must know–”

“I was born to an ordinary family not much different than yours. They aren't government workers. They aren't particularly wealthy. I'm only here because I liked to dance and I happened to be good at it. The Association only cares about me so much as they can use me.”

“Use you for what?”

“That's something I can answer: publicity. Vampyres were once the stuff of scary stories for your people. Putting us on TV and making us appear like harmless entertainers to the drooling masses ‘humanizes’ us,” he scoffed as he made air quotes around the word. “It also gives them cultural clout and sway, which can be just as powerful as big guns in the world of politics.”

“They want us to sing and look pretty?” I asked. My mouth was suddenly dry – the words sticking and stilted – but Minho understood. 

“So we do,” he nodded. “And those who play their parts the best, are rewarded. Money. Luxury. Fame. Mentorship.”

“One of those things is not like the other.”

“That's right. Mentorship is a burden, is it not? That's how humans understand the word. It's an obligation. I teach you. I'm responsible for you, but maybe since I'm such a shining star I get something out of it too, and that's the Bond.” His words started soft, but hurried. They grew into a crescendo. His frustrations and anger simmered the air around him as his fists clenched on the hardwood desk. His knuckles were white, and once again I could feel it. I felt his rage. I felt his desperation. I felt his helplessness. I felt them all so strongly that I was momentarily left gasping for air, suffocating in wild emotions that were not mine for once. 

“But what do you get out of this.. Bond?” I gaped in confusion. My chest rose and fell like I had run miles without a moment to breathe. 

“Well, isn't it obvious, Kitten? I get you.”

His words were so loud it felt like he was shouting at me. They vibrated against the shelves, echoing in my mind like a broken record ready to be trashed. I wanted them gone; I wanted them silenced. 

“I'm not an actual cat, Minho. You can't just assume ownership over me regardless of what the Association says. I'm sure the South Korean government would have something to say about that. Hell, the United Nations would probably like a word too,” I tried to reason. Nothing made sense and everything felt wrong. I was upside down. I was seated but spinning on an invisible axis without a speed limit.

“Human governments can't control the Association. They've made sure of that. What's seen as questionable is explained away by biological differences. Besides, you're not human. Why would they care about you when you fall under the jurisdiction of the Association now?” 

“But I'm still a person–”

“You're a Mark. Humans think you're a genetic mutant. Vampyres see you as a freak destined to be a plaything for our elite. You won't debut. You're here because I am – because it's the easiest way to make you malleable. It's the easiest way to make sure that when the time comes, you're given the illusion of choice.”

“And what are my imaginary choices, Minho?”

“You can reject the Bond. It's not something you want to happen if you value living as much as you seem to,” Minho said in answer. It was then I noticed how tired he looked. His anger had seemingly faded and he slumped into his chair with all the weariness of an old man. The urge to comfort him had my fingers twitching against my thighs. Was that my own notion? Or was it the Bond? I too was weary; I knew I would be asking myself that question a lot in the future. 

“H–How does one reject the Bond?”

“Once your last Marks fill in, we have to exchange blood.” Darkness coated the weariness in his eyes. The words cloying, appealing even. I shivered. “If you refuse, the Bond will cease to exist and so will you.”

“And why would Chan and Felix be worried that I would die? If that's all that I have to do?”

“You want to taste me, Kitten?” The darkness deepend, weariness moving aside for a small glimmer of amusement in the depths. 

“Now is not the time to tease me,” I reprimanded. He didn't seem cowed, not even a hint. Instead he leaned forward to place his elbows on the table and rest his chin on both palms like we were casually gossiping. He was back to his normally unpalatable self. 

“I've heard a whole host of reasons. Some Marks are never told the significance, and even the ones who are are told at the last minute. It's also the first time most of them will taste blood. Human sensibilities die hard, apparently. Your kin are not very adaptable.”

“At least we don't take magical sex slaves,” I grunted with mild humor. If I couldn't laugh, I would cry. And I would not cry in front of this man. I would not. 

“Now,” Minho clicked his tongue in mock disapproval. “I never said anything about sex. That pretty little head of yours is awfully presumptuous.”

“It was implied, was it not?” I asked, mortification seeping into my bones as my face heated to levels hot enough to burn. Pretty?

“For most, yes. But I'm not so far gone into my fame or wealth that I think you owe me anything because of a Mark on your forehead.” Earnest. Truthful. I could feel it in my gut. I felt a fraction of the tension coiling in my shoulders ease, but it was not enough. A part of me – a part I hated and would firmly blame on weird Vampyre physiology – was preening. Pretty. He thinks you're pretty. 

“I appreciate that.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed in acknowledgement. “Your appreciation is the highlight of my day.”

“Were you Mentored in sarcasm or does it just come naturally?”

“It's all natural,” he smiled, one of the rare genuine ones that had my inner fan floating on a cloud. “As is the Bloodlust. You feel it. I can sense it.”

“You can sense it?”

“It's the Bond. We are linked in a way that others are not,” he explained. “I can feel when you–”

“When I want to bash your head in?”

He laughed. The sound so beautiful it made my body tense – desperate for more. Longing to hear it again. “I feel it now. Don't lie to me, Kitten. I'll know. One might even say it's my ‘Aura.’” 

“So not seduction, but Mind Reading? I thought that was only possible in movies.”

“No. Humans and Vampyres are alike in one thing; we all lie. Some more than others. You lie a lot, and I can sense it. I can't hear your thoughts like listening to a radio, but if I wanted to, I could… compel you to tell me the truth,” Minho explained. He seemed to struggle to find the right words to describe it, but his choice had my neck feeling hot. 

Compulsion was a topic of many Vampyre centered movies before the Revelation, but the Association insisted mind control was the subject of fantasy and science fiction. No one – Vampyre nor human –had the capacity to influence the thoughts or actions of others. But that's what Minho was describing, and it was eerily similar to how he had ‘commanded’ me to leave during his testosterone showdown with Chan. 

“Magical mind control doesn't seem like it lines up with the textbook,” I insisted, bristling at the idea. 

“That's one of the biggest problems with the Association. They want everything to make sense. They want us to be wrapped up into a perfectly logical package that humans will accept as natural and superior, but nothing is ever that clear.”

“Can you cast spells?” I asked on a whim. It was meant to be condescending, but I actually was a little curious. If we were slipping into the realms of fantasy, a little spellcasting couldn't be so far fetched?

“No. I'm not a witch,” he shot back quickly and calmly. 

“Wait– witches?”

“Come on, Minji. Don't be so close minded. I'm here telling you about mystical Bonds. You're in a room filled with curious objects, and Witches are what gets you?”

“You're fucking with me– like Harry Potter?” I was reeling again, but it was more of a gentle tumble. I had been told I was ‘Bonded’ to my favorite Kpop idol turned personal tormentor who had the ability of compulsion. Witches and other things that go bump in the night we're just like reading a cozy story by that point: interesting but impersonal. 

“No. More practical and less fanatical,” he answered with narrowed eyes as if he had given it very serious thought. “Don't get disappointed. No one gets a Hogwarts letter.”

“Werewolves? Shifters? Demon? Angels?” I fired off in rapid succession. 

“Full Moon werewolves who live in packs with anger issues? No. Shifters who can turn into wolves and other animals? Yes.” He blinked a few times, contemplating. He was always so careful about thinking before he spoke. It was infuriating most times, but also strangely endearing. “There was a renegade cult of witches a few years back who were sacrificing humans to try to summon some god or whatever but they had no such luck. If there is a realm of demons and angels, they do not want to interact with us. It was a hell of a clean up for the Association. Blamed it on some serial killer or some – you look very pale.”

“Lee Minho,” I called in a mumble. I suddenly felt a little nauseous. Bonds. Shifters. Witch cults murdering humans. Association cover ups with serial killers. The world was spinning again, only this time it was wildly out of control and I was helpless to stop it. “I think that’s enough for today.”

“Did curiosity kill the cat? I only answered what you asked, like you wanted and I promised.” His unapologetic tone didn’t even register. 

“I need a very long nap.” I stood from my chair, my feet feeling heavy and unsteady as I straightened.

“I won’t stop you,” Minho stated. He made no move, he simply kept his seat and watched me intensely, curiously even. My steps were slow as I made for the door only for him to call out to me one last time. “Check the mirror before you go.”

And so I did. 

As I passed the ancient looking mirror, I saw myself. I was ghostly pale, the dark purple on my forehead obnoxiously screaming for the world to see. The lines that had started a faint trail down my temples had darkened and spread. They swirled downward, crawling across my hairline and down my neck in ornamental flourishes that got fainter as they disappeared into the collar of my baggy shirt. 

I couldn’t help it. My feet staggered to a stop to stare. I felt my nausea swell. My skin heated. Then I was barfing the entirety of my stomach onto the dusty hardwood floors. 

Not natural. Reject. Reject. Reject.

[thesharktanksdriver]

People are strange (platonic)

Basically the vamp boys had a kid they just now learned about.

This is entirely platonic and there’s a section for each of them individually as the father in this situation. beginning Half is just kinda context takes place two years before the film

Your mother always warned you of monsters when you were younger

Ones that would hide within the shadows

Glowing red eyes

Gnashing pointed teeth that shine in moonlight

Hissing and growling like wild animals

Ones that looked like you and I

Who seemed impossibly beautiful, like carved statues of cherubs and angels Who were really the devil himself in disguise

She taught you to be wary of the world

To trust your gut and never brush off the chill that goes down your spine when you feel something was wrong

Many called your mama a paranoid woman

One who was skittish and afraid of the slightest bump in the dark

But you knew there was always something more to her fear

A reason as to why she’s deathly afraid of the clock chiming midnight

You trusted her for she was your mother

You never complained from her working long hours to make ends meet or about not getting the latest toy

Her getting home late and locking the door, shaking hands and uneven breaths was enough to always keep you from making a pep

Especially as it all melted away at the sight of you waiting patiently to greet her despite how late it was

She was tough as nails despite how people gave her looks for raising you on her own

Yet another reason you respected her more than just being your mom

So despite how you had to move yet again you didn’t complain

Especially as she said that in this place the two of you would be staying in a bigger home

So she packs up yet again

And the two of you load up into her car, putting the limited amount of items into the trunk before making the trip to Santa Carla

The so called “murder capital of the world” via the back of a billboard advertising the place

The sun is up and as she drives through the town you see all kinds of people

People from different backgrounds and subgroups

It was all fascinating to your 12 year old mind

Especially since you’d only see leather clad and studded jackets on tv

Never up front and in person

You peered out in wonder at a few of the leather wearing people, even getting a few small waves or smiles from them

It made you wave back as your mom drove past a boardwalk

One that piqued your interest without much effort

Perhaps it was the sight of carnival games that were likely rigged

Stuffed Prizes as big as you were

Sugary sweets and greasy delicacies

Flashing lights from stomach churning rides

The sound and smell of the salty water of the sea crashing into the shore

But something drew you there

It was like a call in your mind

Beckoning you to go

Like Alice following the white rabbit into wonderland

Your mother sees your stare and chuckles a little

Hands gripping the steering wheel as she turns it

“Did you know that I used to live here?”

“Really?!”

“Yep. The house we’re gonna live in is where I used to live when I was a teenager”

“But…I thought grandpa and grandma didn’t like you because of me?”

“Grandma and grandpa…are in a retirement home. We got the house in return”

At that you nod

It sounded like it made sense

“Mommy actually used to go the board walk quite a bit. Maybe you’ll have fun there”

“I’m allowed to go there?”

“Yeah but…remember what I said about following your gut. Alright?”

“Ok!”

Moving in is relatively quick

The place is old and furnished in antique furniture

It’s better that what the two of you had before except for the old person smell

But that would go away with time…and fabreeze

You traverse through the place finding what you assumed to be your mom’s old room

It’s untouched

Remnants of the 60’s turning into what you think to be the 70’s

Posters hang on the walls, Janet Joplin and Jim Morrison are two you can clearly recognize

Their music played on the way to this very house

The covers of the bed are soft as you flop down onto the duvet spread of swirls and sunflowers

Your bag following suit as it spills open to let your stuff tumble out onto the bed

By the time night hits your surging with energy as your mom gets ready to go to her new work

It was weird but for some reason you always felt more energetic at night

Your mom always said you got that from your dad which made you giggle

You never knew him

Only heard bits and pieces about him from your mother who guarded it to her heart

Naturally you were curious about the man since he WAS your father

But by how hesitant she seemed you eventually brushed that curiosity away for her sake

Your mom gives you twenty dollars and a kiss on the cheek after handing you a sweater just in case

The rule was to be back by 10 which you’d definitely abide by lest you have this privilege taken away

So your off

Into the boardwalk you go as the last bits of sunlight die

The sun slowly going down in the horizon signalling night to take reign

Your a bit overwhelmed since this is the first time having such a big sense of freedom

Plus there are so many people here

For awhile you end up laying a few games, winning cheaply stuffed prizes before ending up getting some ice cream

You end up sitting by the steps going down into the beach

It was quieter there and less busy making it relaxing as you listened to the waves

And then you heard the sound of moter cycles roaring

Your eyes turn to see 4 boys, all teenagers around 18 or 19 coming to a stop

Their all laughing to themselves

Two blonds seemingly play fighting as another watches with a tall dark haired man

You get up from your spot, whipping of stray bits of sand sticking to you and approach the group who’d yet to notice you

“I like your jackets”

Their eyes search around for a moment before trailing down to you

Staring up at them with interest

You notice how whatever they were gonna respond with dies in their throats

You miss how momentarily their eyes flash to an cat-like yellow hue from being distracted from the detailing of their leather coats

Specifically the one with all the patches and dangly bits

The one in the centre responds first, thanking you before kneeling down a bit to be at a better height

Up till then you had to crane your neck up to look at the 4 of them

He introduces himself and then the others

There’s a noticeable intrigue in them that doesn’t go unnoticed by you

The one named Paul chimes in asking if your here with some friends

You respond with the truth that your here alone, your first night in your new home

“Must be pretty brave coming here all alone” the one named Marko comments with a wild smile

“Mom says the same thing. She also always says trust your gut”

“What does your gut say about us?”

“That your cool”

That gets a good laugh out of them

The rest of the night you spend it with the rowdy group of bikers

Paul and Marko showing you the best hacks for winning the carney games

David buying you a burger that you snack on as the night progresses

Dwayne placing you on his shoulders when you mention your feet starting to hurt

It’s fun

Possible the most fun you had in a long while

At a lot of your old schools you never really made friends

Partially due to the fact you knew you’d move but also cause you could never really click with other kids your age

But it seems that within minutes of meeting these delinquent bikers you’d made the friends you had so longed for

But eventually the night comes to an end the minutes to 10 are ticking down and you have to head home

You notice how distinctly upset one of them are compared to the rest

And how in your own way you feel the same

Almost as if you were about to leave a part of your soul if you left

“I’ll be back tomorrow night. We can meet by the same spot if you’d all like”

Immediately the mood is lightened

David nodding as the others smile and wave you off as you take the path home

Despite how dark the streets were and how afraid you probably should be when walking home in a new town

Let alone one named the murder capital of the world

You feel at ease

Safe beneath the starlit skies as the moon lead your way home

At some points you could’ve sworn you felt eyes on you but there was no feeling of danger

You could even dare say you felt protected as the wind howled last you

When you get home your mom is there to greet you with a smile

One that seemed less stressed than normal

“How was it?”

“It was fun!. I made some friends I think”

“You think?”

“Yeah…well this older than me but super cool”

She nods with a smile, sending you to bed with a spark of familiarity in her eyes as she stares out a window

The next night you keep your word, going to the same spot you met them when the light died

Letting night take it’s place

They arrive like they did last time but instead of laughing amongst themselves they immediately head to greet you

It repeats like this for your night times

Their always filled with fun and laughter as the group quickly welcomes you to its metaphorical ranks

There is an unknown sentiment shared between them

One that it takes awhile for your young child brain to catch onto

Eyes sending silent sentences as they ruffled your hair

The way how there’s an unspoken rule between them that at least one is with you at all times

How out of the bunch one specifically seems to linger near you more than the others

An unknown emotion filling their eyes as they have to say goodbye once the clock chimes 10

And then joy when they see you the next night at the boardwalk

How that one of the group is always the first to find you and greet you

It’s odd

But perhaps not in a bad way

It makes you feel happy and comfortable

Almost as if you greeting your dad after a long day of work or saying goodbye to him

It’s a feeling you enjoy especially as the nights are filled with joy

But with that also comes the odd feeling you have with them

A sense of kinship beyond just regular friendship

Something more alike to being part of a family

Along with that is also the odd smell your sometimes find lingering near them

It’s faint but there, an irony twang that isn’t from the studded boots or moter cycles

It hangs from them in an essence that only you seem to notice

For some reason you imagine the smell as an almost red mist

Something that also lingers around the video store that they avoid as best they can

Not like you can blame them though

Something in you tells you that danger lies there so you never go near it

There a noticeable change in you as you spend time with them

A sense of energy when the sun sets that leaves you somewhat confused since it wasn’t to this extent before

Now you felt as if you were more alive at night

Sometimes taking hours to even try to force yourself to sleep when your supposed to

And despite that you feel energetic as usual during the day but especially at night

It becomes an ongoing cycle you endure

Because if it meant being able to spend time with the boys you’d befriended then you’d bare it

David like the others can instantly tell that your his kid

They all can

It’s safe to say your now his number one priority

For a long while David feels clueless as to how he should handle this

Cause on one hand he wants to just take that step into fatherhood

To be there for you as best he could without up and saying he’s your dad

But at the same time he doesn’t know if that’s what you want or need

And that leaves him more scared than he’d like to admit

He doesn’t want to be like Max, someone who’d come into your life uninvited and decide that he’s now your dad

It’s fucked up and they know all about it from now being his “sons”

So for awhile he’d keep the relationship as being a big brother figure until he gets hints that he’d think it would be ok to take a more fatherly role

It’s odd for him to feel so…soft

He’s normally composed and at times gruff

The complete opposite of how he is when your tugging him to booth to win a prize

For the first in a long time David allows himself to let his guard down

To let the walls guarding his heart topple down and be vulnerable

It’s something he doesn’t do often even with the others

So it means a lot to him that he can do so without worry

He takes to hovering around you a lot

he’s not really affectionate like Paul or Marko but likes to just silently be near your presence

Watching you smile at a dumb joke

It comforts him that your not afraid of them, of him

That despite the looks and the scared glances from other people on the boardwalk you always come back

That also leads to him worrying for you

Especially since there are monsters in Santa Clara that may not be vampires but in his opinion much worse than they are

It’s cause of that he ends up personally watching and making sure your ok

That you get home safe to your mother

Speaking of which he may or may not be a bit bitter she kept you a secret from him

He partially understands her reasoning but it still hurts

What matters though is that he can be there for you now

Your a smart kid and it makes him proud especially as you begin taking after him in small ways

Sometimes it’s with how you walk as if you owned the place

Or how you went about a situation

He can’t help but chuckle a bit when thinking about it especially when he gifts you a coat similar to his own

The sight of which makes his crack a smile as you add it to your daily attire

It makes him feel a stroke of pride as you parade around like a mini him

Everyone knows that he’s something akin to a paternal figure to you and with that comes no one on the boardwalk messing with you

Unless they want him and the boys on their asses with a potential of ending up on a missing poster

But once again with that comes Max

Shit grinning Max who just had to stick his head into what didn’t involve him

David won’t admit it but he’s always on pins and needles when around the older vampire

For someone who is normally in control and the most powerful in a room he feels weak when the other vampire is around

All grip on the situation slipping out his fingers like sand in an hour glass

An sturdy object now cracked and moments away from breaking under the pressure of a fake smile and yellow eyes

Unsurprisingly Max is happy with this development

David dare even say ecstatic which leaves him uneasy

It’s better than him being mad but he can see the gears turning in his sire’s head

The prospect of his fucked up family dream coming one more step into fruition

Max makes one demand that David hesitantly agrees to which is bribing you in to meet him

So despite his clear hesitation David begrudgingly does so after exposing his…dad wanted to meet you

None of the boys are happy either but they put up some practices smiles and are able to convince you to help them pick out a video to watch

During this encounter you stick by David who is more than eager to shield you away from Max’s view as subtly he can

The older vampire peering down at you with intrigue

Despite nothing being amiss with the man behind the counter you feel uncomfortable

Something about him was wrong

The kind smile feeling almost Artificial as it hides something malicious behind it

You put up with that feeling though

Instead giving a shy but cordial greeting as Paul picks a film with Marko

Dwayne watching not too far away as David grasps your hand

The sight of which makes Max grin

After that the group takes you to their small hangout after you had gotten permission from your mom to stay longer

It’s something akin to a dream-like cave

Sea glass and beer bottle strung up to create blobs of coloured light

A large poster of Jim Morrison hanging on the wall just like your mom’s room that became your own

This places feels magical

“You like it?”

“Yeah!. Mom has a poster of Jim as well”

“Really?, well she must have good taste”

There’s a hidden amusement in his voice as he brings forth a wheelchair that he offers you to sit down in

It’s reminiscent of a throne as you sit down

David wheeling it closer to where the others sit as you giggle in delight

His eyes drift over to the bejewelled bottle every once in awhile as everyone watches the film

A part of him wants to offer it

That sweet golden ticket of immortality

But he holds back knowing it would be cruel

Though they may be sadistic he can’t bring himself to tricking you into turning

Can’t rip away your humanity and tear you away from your mother

He can’t find himself going to betray your trust

Perhaps later on in your life he’d offer it but for now he’ll lock those thoughts away

Despite how some part of his wishes to keep you forever young

Forever his child

His eyes trail back down to you dozing off

The others can’t help but laugh as the big bad David gentle picks you up with a certain soft look in his eyes

He glares but it only makes Paul and Marko’s giggles louder

Dwayne just smirks and nods

Getting the silent message of making sure the other two bozo’s didn’t burn down the cave as he left

And so he takes off into the sky with you in hand

Your smaller form fast asleep amongst the stars of the midnight sky

He can’t help but think about how fragile you are compared to him

A monster of the night

When he knocks on the door to your home he’s met by your mother whom stares with nostalgia

He asks if he can enter and she lets him

His jacket seems to flutter from a breeze coming in behind him

The next morning you wake up tucked into bed with the strangest dream of soaring the night skies

Your new friends Edgar and Allen say that you’d been reading too many superman comics

Dwayne feels his now unbeating heart stop as he stares down at you looking up towards them

Round innocent eyes that almost make him crumble and lose his usual stoic shield

He had always had a soft spot for children

And with you he absolutely melts like butter left in the Californian sun

The giant of a man accompanying you as you held onto his hand or the edge of his jacket

Out of them all he definitely takes to the role of dad the fastest

The quiet giant becoming the epitome of a gentle giant for you exclusively

It’s funny to the others how Dwayne will go from stoic badass to holding your hand when there’s a crowd so you don’t get lost

Honestly their all especially happy for him considering they all knew he once had a desire to have a family

It was initially what Max played on into initiating the brunette

Only for him to realize that those dreams were manipulated and played on

It’s due to that he is especially protective when he realizes you can be used as tool by Max

Like David he looms nearby but secretly loves giving you any affection that your comfortable with

Whether that be holding his hand or being placed on his shoulder is up to you but he never complains

In fact he only gently smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkling as a look of calm appears in his eyes

Dwayne (unlike the others) loves talking about historical events they had lived through

Of course he framed the stories as from relatives or now dead family members but there’s a certain look in his eyes that tells he’s talking of personal experience

Dwayne is a pro at the carnival games since he often times had to win them for Marko or Paul

He uses this to his advantage by winning you any and every prize you’d ever want

Whether that be the big ones or small your getting it

Thing is as well is that you don’t even need to ask him, he already seems to know which one you want and the next night or hour he returns with it in hand for you

The others now laugh cause now he stocks up on the cheaply stuffed toys and trinkets at the cave

Their in a neat pile away from the mud and grime

Plus Marko’s nabby hands for when he needs supplies for a new art project

Speaking of which he basically looms over Marko’s shoulder as he’s making you your own coat to match his

Jaguar and all

Marko knows he’s just excited but he has to shoo him off since having a giant looking over your shoulder while you work is kinda distracting

In the quiet moments where he sits with you and have ice cream by the beach he tells you of tales

How each constellation has a story

How flowers have certain meaning in Victorian and various cultures

Along with that he reads to you books of old

Ones with flowery language long forgotten to the modern world yet he holds an appreciation for

During when he reads he lets your read aloud with him, taking turns voice characters as he helps you sound out harder words

It makes him more happy than you can imagine that has someone (let alone his own child) to read along with

He likes Shakespeare and stuff considered to be classics but he has a soft spot for fantasy novels like Tolkien

Once considered reading to you Dracula but held back thinking that it maybe too on the nose and give you suspicions

It’s at this point he would also explain to you in detail his heritage of indigenous origin

Stories passed on from his people that he now shares to you

When he does so theirs a certain gentleness and vulnerability he has in his tone

It had been once again something he had dreamed of doing, passing down stories just as his parents and grandparents before him

One that was yet again something he didn’t think he’d get to do

But here he is, beneath the starry night sky retelling stories generations old as you look to him with pure amazement and interest

Something that makes him a bit more teary eyed than he’d like to admit

He often worries about your sleep schedule and about your health in general partially due to the fact none of them know what a half-vampire entails

Nor do they want to ask Max out of fear of sounding too suspicious

So he kinda has to wing it

Through the night he constantly makes sure to get you snacks and drinks to keep you hydrated

The other joke that he’s a mother hen but he takes that in pride

Pride that he can care for his own flesh and blood

But of course nothing can last forever and Max catches on when you accidentally stumble into his shop on night with Dwayne behind you

Safe to say it’s a bit of an awkward talk that has implications you don’t catch onto as the two “talk”

Well it’s more like Max is talking as Dwayne gave short answers and silent messages through his glare

Meanwhile your peaking out from behind the movie selection as the man behind the counter stares at you with interest

When the two of you leave after that you notice how for a long while he gets more protective

His hand gripping yours a bit tighter than usual or how his eyes scour through the crowds when your on his shoulder

When he brings you to the cave (after your moms permission to stay out later than usual) you ride with him on his bike

Unlike the others (cough Marko and Paul cough) he drives safely

He also makes sure that your comfortable enough

Once there he carefully guides you down into their base

Being sure so that you don’t trip over any stray jutting stones or debris laying around

It comes to no surprise that he talks of the history of this place

From how it sunk to how stalactites now begin to form

You sit down with him at the old fountain and he pulls out an old copy of Hamlet

He reads as the others do their own thing nearby, casually listening or throwing in a quip from time to time

It’s fun especially as Paul makes a remark that their all to dramatic

That gets a rock thrown at him by David

When your getting tired though he takes you home on his own

The hum of the motor cycle making it really easy to fall asleep as the very early hours of the morning

Your mother can only smile at the sight of him walking you to the door hand in hand

The next while that becomes a tradition

One in which that has you always happy at the end of the night from the fun memories and how easy it was to fall asleep

Dwayne’s new favourite activity though is teaching you to dance since you randomly asked one day

The tune of a song from the smiths or echo and the bunny people filling the cavern

Bouncing off it’s old walls as you stand on his feet following his lead

He fells at peace, purely content and happy in a way he hadn’t experienced yet in his undead life

“Am I doing this right?”

“You are, just follow my lead”

Edgar and Allen say he’s unfortunately not allowed in their shop cause he refuses to still wear a shirt so you can’t introduce them yet

No shirt no service as they say

Paul is freaking the fuck out internally cause out of all of them he was a dad

Him

The smooth talking ladies man who was as high a kite almost every night

Is he upset by this revelation? Fuck no

Is up surprised and unprepared? Hell yeah

Unsurprisingly the others tease him about this quite a bit but he doesn’t bite back since he’s too distracted wrapping his head around how he should act around you

Like the others he’s had a particular bad home life back when he was alive so he doesn’t really know how to be a good dad

Part of him fears that he’ll end up like his father

Controlling and often times would hurt him for acting out

It leaves him fearful that he could become him for he is already a monster of the night

There’s no telling if he’d fall as far as his dad

The others remind him he would never but a part of him still worries

During his time with you he is always cracking jokes and quips to hear you laugh

It’s perhaps his new favourite thing to hear as a smirk spreads across your face

A sight in which he does his best to be a constant expression on your face

The so called “twisted sister look alike” likes indulging in games with you

Along with spinning you around in the air or running with you sitting on his shoulders

Marko helps him with a lot of the these endeavours

The other golden hair vampire helping in the schemes he makes to make your nights all that more enjoyable

Several of which are stopped by Dwayne of David cause their apparently “dangerous” and “could blow our cover you dumb blonds”

The dumbass duo now becomes a trio cause your dragged along with them

The only braincell on the group as David and Dwayne desperately hope you don’t lose said braincell with hanging out with the two

Paul is very affectionate and shows this both verbally and physically

He’s constantly telling you how cool you look and patting your head

It’s his way of making sure you know your always loved

You can definitely bet he sneaks you into concerts that you maybe shouldn’t be at

And then at said concert he parades you on his shoulders so you get a good view

Wild hair flying everywhere as he bops to the tune with you doing the same

With you now taking up most of his attention he focuses less on woman since he’d rather spend time with someone who he knows won’t leave

Even when he does talk to woman though it isn’t like it was before

What started off as flirting derails when he starts talking about how proud he is of you and-

And the woman has now left and he hadn’t noticed

David jokes that he’s lost his skills but he doesn’t really mind as much as he initially thought

He just laughs it off with a “whatever you say man” before taking you to yet another booth where he wins you something

And steals a few extra prizes

He steals you quite a bit of stuff

Like you were looking at something for a millisecond?, he’s mentally notes that down to yoink later

Bit of a kleptomaniac so he has a shit ton of old concert merch and collectibles that he gifts to you

David been complaining that it’s piling up in the cave anyways so he’s happy it’s going to a good home

Still a bit sad cause he’s emotionally attached to those items but feels a sense of happiness when he sees you wear the old band shirts he’s collected

Speaking of which he had a ton of unused patches Marko has been unable to touch that he has added to your coat

All the way from Jimi Hendrix and the doors to Motley crew and black sabbath

He tries to hold back smoking near you but there are the times where he ends up high and is around you

You actually find Paul to be really funny when he’s high

The others disapprove cause it’s not exactly a respoible thing to do in front of a kid and cause he gets chatty and on several occasions almost blew their cover

He does try to tone it down for your sake though

Which is more than David could ever convince him to do

It probably doesn’t take long for Max to catch on that’s something going on that he hasn’t been let on to

Doesn’t fucking except Paul of people to have a kid

Well…maybe that’s a lie, he does know that he is quite good with women but still

Like the others Paul doesn’t really like Max but he at least tries to hide his discomfort with a lazy smile

Don’t be fooled though cause his foot is bouncing anxiously

Max is of course all smiles as you place a movie you’d like onto the counter

Paul holding your hand as you feel sweat begin to form on his

Max greets and talks with him but you can sense something is odd

The encounter ends fast and leads with Paul putting you on his shoulders and running off into the crowds

You still feel the other man’s eyes watching the two of you disappear into the sea of people

Eventually your able to get permission to go with them to their cave on the condition they drop you off back home

In an instant Paul is showing you his area of the cave

His figurative treasure trove that your allowed to touch without the worry of having a rabid Paul set loose for touching his stuff

You sit on a pile of old shirts as he shows off some trinkets that he thought were particularly cool

It’s there he also plays some of his favourite albums from the mixtapes Marko made

At some point he begins singing along with you following suit

Laughter and giggles every few verses as you mess up words and only remember the chorus

It’s the most fun thing he’s done

It’s so mundane yet it seems to ingrain itself into his memory

Something he’d hold close when he felt particularly lonely

When he takes you home he decides to park his motorcycle at the board walk and take you the rest of the way by foot

You laugh and joke with him and it warms his undead heart

You talk of your dreams and he makes you promise to never doubt your ability to accomplish them

Something his dad never did

Your mother already awaits at the door when he drops you off

He smiles and shoots her a flirty remark she giggles at as she shoo’s you to bed

As he’s about to leave she says he and the others always welcome to stay if the sun is too close

He nods and disappears into the night

Edgar and Allen say Paul isn’t allowed in the store after once catching him stealing several comics

Along with the fact their concerned his dumbassery will end up with the shop in flames

Marko is dumbfounded but also jumping with fucking joy

HE HAS A KID!!!

Oh my god- ow

Yeah definitely excited but then realizes that means he has a tiny human he’s now responsible for

A tiny human who is more fragile than regular humans

In an area infested with creepo’s and surf nazi’s

He’s now internally screaming and Dwayne is doing his best to help cause they all can hear it through their mind link

Definitely anxious about now having a kid who doesn’t know he’s their dad but simultaneously he knows their his kid

David is so close to sometimes snack him on the head

Marko is personally good with affection and dishes it out quite often but his favourite is gifts

Me makes (and steals) you sooo much stuff

Like if Paul was bad for snatching shit then Marko is going to a new level for you

Out of the bunch he’s the most artistic

And he’s very passionate about it

Me makes you bracelets, handmade pins out of bottle caps, patches and doodles

All of which end up being kept safe in your room or added to your clothes

He’d absolutely love to take you “shopping” around the boardwalk for supplies before starting an art project with you

Hunched near the beach as the two of you paint some random shit with patterns and drawings

It’s due to this the fights in the boardwalk has gone down 50%

David has almost staked himself several times for the countless times Marko and Paul end up in stupid situations as they dragged you along

It’s nothing too bad, just some light mischief that leaves you giggling as he runs with you clinging to him

He only wins at the carnival games cause he cheats via vampire powers

Like he could’ve learned to do it properly over the years

But using an ability is sooo much easier

Plus somehow miraculously winning every time to watch the hope drain from a vendors eyes is satisfying to him

As is reaping the rewards of giving you a giant plush and getting a bright smile

One time you surprised him with something you won him and he still cherishes it

He even gave the plush a name and refuses to let anyone but him touch it

That goes along with any drawings or small artwork you give him

It could be something as small as a post it note with a smiley face and he’d be asking David to frame it on a wall

He decides to make a scrapbook to keep it all in

Certain drawings he really likes end up becoming custom patches that he adds to his coat

Unlike the others who want to give you a jacket that relatively matches their own

Marko goes off the wall in creating something similar to his but at the same time different

He’s an artist, he ain’t making the same thing again

Do you know how that hurts his soul?…if he still had one!

…plus Dwayne would probably strangle him if your jacket had a half naked woman like his own

Your jacket becomes his main project he works on

Yours is customized to your liking with patches of bands you like

To Italian tapestries much like his own

He adds charms and beads and-

David has to stop him before it becomes too heavy for your small form to carry

They once had to stop Marko from committing a art heist cause you offhandedly mentioned you like one of the paintings a local museum had

He verbally torn apart by Dwayne but it was so worth it in his eyes since he was able to raid the gift shop for prints instead

(Still sucks he couldn’t get the original)

Sometimes when he’d feeling nostalgic he takes you around the area and shows you works of art he may or may not have made

Their all anonymous works so he can just tell you his “interpretation” of what it’s supposed to mean

He loves hearing your input though

Hearing your own version of how you view the message of a piece as he looks on

Marko has been breeding and training pigeons for generations so he definitely introduces you to his feathered friends

He shows you how to tell if their happily coo’ing and where to pet them

His favourite of the bunch is one he named “Legosi” after the actor

Legosi now ends up being a messenger pigeon that he uses during the daytime to send you little motivational messages or small charms

Like Paul it doesn’t take long for Max to catch onto something being amuck

And Marko is fucking terrified as he attempts to act like his normal self as the man behind the counter of the video store looks down at you with a smile

It feels almost like a predator smiling down at prey

When he takes you to the cave he shows you all his projects and artwork that is found around

The fountain and the pigeons

It’s fun especially since he shows you all the random supplies he’s collected over the years

Including weird ass paints that aren’t in production due to them using dangerous materials like arsenic

The others watch on as the usually chaotic blond becomes calm as the two of you finger paint

Or he teaches you to sew

It’s probably the most content they’ve seen him in a long while

He won’t tell you it but he has a habit of accidentally just divulging in Italian as he talks about amazing you are to the others without even noticing he’s switched languages

Yet again not allowed into the comic shop for stealing plus Edgar and Allen swear he’s cut out panels when their not looking

You can confirm after seeing his collage’s with comic strips that he probably cut out from the pages

For someone often considered paranoid many people find it odd how your mother moved back to her hometown of Santa Clara

Even with the inheritance of her parents home it still felt like a departure from how she normally was

The woman who’s jump at the slightest of sounds

Or insisted on having at heart 3 locks on a door

But perhaps what’s more strange is her response as to why she lets you, a 12 year old, out at night

Something that normally would seem like a decision only made by negligent parents in this town polluted by missing posters

“Their probably the person with the most safety in this town. Cause I’m this case their the metaphorical princess with a group of dragons there to protect them”

Most would write off this statement

But it’s more true than anyone would initially think

For the monsters who lurk the night don’t hurt one of their own

[athenaluciscaelum]

Pairing: Dante x Reader

Rated: General

Words: 1436 word

Warning: None

Disclaimer:

This is my first blog for writing anything to be open for public scrutiny, so be kind, I do not intend to take any scrutiny for task I'm doing out of my passion, and I am not getting paid for anyway. A constructive criticism in right tone can be welcome. But anything unkind or disrespectful or homophobic or any hate shall be deleted. I do not entertain such things and I do not mind simply deleting them. This being said I will try my best to put trigger warning rightfully in every post but if sometimes, I miss something. You can let me know and educate me on topic respectfully and I will add it promptly.

How he knew?

Let's Rock!

The neon sign reading "Devil May Cry" flickered at the crack of dawn in the not-so-well-off part of the city, situated beside a strip club called Love Planet, which barely helped its image. Not that Dante was one to care about image. But now and then, Dante thinks about the life he witnessed as a child. He was raised on the outskirts of the Red Grave city, with big fields and flowers surrounding Sparda's mansion, the mansion was adorned in a Victorian style. It was a home Sparda and Eva built. After 2000 years of roaming the realm of humans when Sparda’s eyes caught a lady of such elegance that he felt what he hadn't felt in 2000 years: love. Offcourse , he felt platonic love and sympathy for human being, but love that one year, burned their skin, made them smile even in the darkest times. It was different, it was something he never thought he wanted, but that's what now he needed. This led him to settle down and build a family. Or that's how it was in Dante's mind.

Dante thought of his parents' great love and him and his brother being the product of that love. He entertained the idea for a second if he would ever feel such a burn. He let out a huff as he raised his hand to pick up a magazine from his face; it was a Playboy magazine. He sighed, not that he was exactly in the mood for anything of the sort, but he was bored and this was the closest magazine to him. Knowing his lazy self, he settled for it.

Dante lowered his feet from the top of the table to the floor and sat in a chair. He looked around; beer and whiskey bottles littered the floor, magazines and books were all around, posters were chipping off the wall, and the place smelled gloomy with dust everywhere. Pizza boxes made the place stink. His spine lowered, he put his face in his hands and he ran a hand across his face and felt his stubble. He heard a word in his mind, "old," and for the first time, he thought, "It is all so boring, what am I doing with my life?"

Nothing a walk won't fix, right? Not that he had any job or cash on him to entertain himself with strawberry sundaes, pizza, booze, or flirting with random women at a bar. Anyway, a walk it is, he thought.

It was early morning. Dante stood up, dusted his pants and put on his clothes. He went to the bathroom; he never liked looking at himself in the mirror. But he splashed some water on his face, his stubble was way too grown for his liking, making him look older. The word "old" echoed in Dante's mind. He shook his head, brushed his teeth, and grabbed his coat from his leather couch. Dante walked through the city. It was too early for anything to be open or anything to happen, not that he wanted to see anyone in particular or was looking for something. Dante looked around and found a public library. For the first time, he felt his heart speak to him. Just. Go. In. Dante frowned, was it my heart? Or my demon? Certainly, something smells sweet, unlike a demon stench. This lured him; he always thought how Sparda knew that Eva was 'the one' after so many years.

Dante suddenly cut the line of thought. Why should I care? I exist, so he knew, how? Is irrelevant. Dante walked in, the clock struck at at 08:00 AM. He didn't expect anyone to be there and to his satisfaction, no one was. Good. Very good. This he likes.

Dante strolled through the rows of books. To him, books never smelled great or soothing like Trish and many book lovers claimed. All he smelled was dust, gloom, and old paper.

As Dante walked through the rows, he could swear he saw someone sitting in a row surrounded by piles of books. His heart made the decision, his feet made him walk to this 'someone', before he could even comprehend he was standing in front of this sweet-scented person whose eyes looked up at him curiously from where they were sitting on the floor surrounded by books. They blinked at Dante, head out of the book, their voice small, soothing and Dante couldn't help but just stare. His heart beat strong, and his skin burned. He wasn't sure himself. He just stared.

And they spoke, "Ummm....do you want something?"

Dante looked away from them; his icy blue eyes wanting to take in the form before him more, but he played it cool.

Dante spoke in his usual carefree tone, "No... I was just bored...."

You were so quick to jump to conclusions; he was in the library and bored, so he liked books, you deduced. Or you just wanted to push your favourite novel on someone. You spoke genuinely cheered, "Well, try reading 'Count of Monte Cristo' by Alexander Dumas; it is certainly full of drama! And you look like you like theatrics with your elegant coat and those boots!"

You grinned and suddenly realized you were rambling as you saw Dante's face in a little frown and eyes surprised. You covered your mouth and internally cursed yourself, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to assume! I-I-I-I..." And your words failed you, after reading books all day only to fail.

Dante smiled, and let out a chuckle, he smiled genuinely for a long time and spoke cooly, "You're full of suprises...."

You eased and felt comfortable, you stood up and smoothened ensemble you choose for the day. Dante just stood their taking in you form. Usually people who did not knew Dante personally which were very few, they stayed away from Dante, he has image he maintained and he was intimidating in general, not that he was much into interaction, only strager who ever came close to him willingly were men or women interested to take on to handsome devil for a good night. Anyway...you smiled extended your hand with friendliness and smiled, "I am Y/N, nice to meet you, what is your name, mister?"

Dante snapped out of staring at you discreetly, he was too overwhelmed by the scent. He smiled and took your hand in his to shake, ohho so soft and delicate hands, "I am Dante, no need for mister....just call me Dante."

You stumbled and felt embarrassed, "ohho...right...Mister Dante... I mean Dante...right...."

Dante leaned against a book shelf trying to be cool..Athena looked around and took out the book, 'The Count of Monte Cristo', she handed it to Dante, "Here...read it...you will certainly enjoy it, the main character name in the book is Edmund Dantes... something common between you two." You smiled, so effortlessly...Dante looked down at book and run finger through his hair, "Hmm...as much as I will like it, I do not have library membership to get it issued..." You nodded, "Ohho....come with me..." You held his hand without second thought, he was lil suprised how natural and easy everything felt with you, he smiled, he felt your soft hand grip against his rough leather gloved hand, would you mind if he just felt your hand, just a little? Before he can decided, you both were outside the livrary near the locker, you took out your satchel and handed him your hard copy of the book, "Here." You looked at the clock at the entrance of the livrary read 09:00AM. You panicked, "Shoot! My lecture starts in fifteen minutes, I got to go!" You started to dash off without second thought. Dante called out, "Wait, sweet cheeks!" You blushed at the name and turned embarrassed, also little shocked, "What? I'm in hurry..." Dante held up book in his hand, as he spoke, "How am I suppose to return this, after I am done reading?"

Athena mentally smacked herself for giving her precious book without a way to get it back, but somehow it was so easy and cozy around Dante, she spoke in hurry, ready to haste, "I am here everyday from 07:00AM to 08:45 AM and 04:00PM to 06:00PM, except weekends...!" You said it and ran as fast as you could.

Dante looked down at book, it has your scent lingering on it. Now he has to finish book as soon as possible, after all he gotta return it back. He smiled to himself.

As he walked back home with new 'hope', Dante sighed, 'so that's how he knew.' And now Dante knows it too.

Tags: @marshmallows-and-champagne