#rips shirt. I am rich

[eudico-my-beloved]

GUESS WHO PULLED GUILTY GEAR XX ACCENT CORE FOR THE WII OFF OF SHOPGOODWILL DOT COM

[leighsartworks216]

Lap Dog

Sylus x gn!Reader

I wrote this at like 2 am. Can I not keep getting the best inspiration/motivation at the absolute worst hours??

Inspired by my own post

Warnings: violence, guns, threats, kissing, biting, hair-pulling, cuddling, literal sleeping together, no smut, fluffy ending

Word Count: 1,600 (oooh nice)

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The Raven Masterlist

AO3

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Two knocks sound on the door, but there is no pause before it opens. All conversation dies. The black market Protocore dealer and his two lackeys are silent as they watch you enter.

Your attire is casual, if not a bit tantalizing. One of Sylus’s shirts hangs loosely on your frame, partially unbuttoned. Shorts hidden beneath give the impression of nudity. And to top it all off, a gun is very visibly strapped to your thigh.

They all stare, baffled at the entrance of Sylus’s infamous bodyguard. The discrepancy of the horror stories detailing your ruthlessness and capabilities and the soft, lazy way you pad across the floor to settle directly into Sylus’s lap. It’s harder to take you seriously, if anything.

Sylus smirks, naturally, always accepting any affection you feel he’s worthy of. His hand slips under the loose edge of the shirt to hold your waist, his touch warm and protective. You wrap an arm around his neck, the other resting its hand on his chest. Your head leans on his shoulder, eyes closed. You don’t seem to give a damn about the state of affairs you’ve just barged in on. The client can’t say anything about it, though; this is the Onychinus leader’s home, he can’t disrespect that.

Sylus tilts his head nonchalantly, like nothing ever happened, like the only thing interrupting the meeting was the client’s own self-imposed silence. “You were saying…?”

The dealer balks for a moment. He looks between you and the man he came to do business with. After a beat of silence, where he struggled to grasp onto the threads of the conversation, you open your eyes to glare at him, not even bothering to turn your head. It’s sharp. A warning. Speak, or else.

He clears his throat. “O-Of course, sir. As I was saying, I was able to get my hands on some rare variants of pearl and violet Protocores. They’ve been examined by our lead scientists, and it seems they are highly receptive to alterations.”

“Did you bring any with you, or do I just have to truth your word?” Sylus questions.

“I brought one along,” the man quickly reassures. Your face turns to watch him as he gestures for one of the henchmen to bring forward a steel briefcase, setting it on the rich wooden desk. He clicks the latches open and lifts a tube out with both hands. Floating within the glass is a spiky violet Protocore. “This is one of the weaker ones, of course. It’s bad business to bring the best product to the first meeting.” He holds it out to Sylus with both hands. When the leader gestures for him to bring it closer, he carefully rounds the desk to present it up close.

You squint your eyes at the crystal for a moment. In one swift motion, you pull your gun from its holster and point it at the man’s face. He nearly drops the container in shock. Instead, he clutches it to his chest, staring down the barrel of the gun.

Sylus tsks. “Black market salesmen, always claiming they can scrounge up the best of the best, only to fall short.”

The lackeys reach for their guns. One draws and aims at you. The other hesitates, hand hovering over his holster. The dealer takes a step back.

“Wha- Call off your guard dog!” he pleads.

“Why should I? They’ve just sniffed out a liar. I’m inclined to reward them with a little treat,” he muses. “Feel up to hunting, sweetie?”

You don’t answer.

“No! P-please I-! These are the real deal, I swear!”

Your gun moves from his face to his henchmen. Before the armed lackey can fire, you shoot first. The bullet rips through his hand, traveling up his stiff arm and lodging itself firmly in his elbow. He screams in agony as his gun clatters to the ground, reduced to his knees beside it as he clutches his injuries to his chest. The other one lifts his hands up in surrender, not wishing to further test your ire.

“Was it all a lie, I wonder?”

The gun returns to aim directly at him. He drops the tube, glass shattering on the floor, to cover his face with both hands as though it would save him if you pulled the trigger. “Wait! Wait! I know where I can get the Protocores!”

Sylus hmphs. “Heel.”

You obey immediately, returning the gun to your holster. The dealer uncovers his eyes to watch as you lean yourself back against Sylus’s chest, face resting against his neck and eyes closed, as if you were tired of threatening him.

It doesn’t put the man at ease at all.

“Then go fetch them,” Sylus demands. “Two days. If you try to run away or return empty handed, I guarantee you a fate worse than death.”

The man gaped, slack jawed. His hands twisted his tie anxiously. “Two days?! S-Sir that’s impossible!”

“That’s none of my concern.”

In all his years of selling to big-ticket bosses, cutting corners and swindling them outta their money, never had he been so blatantly dropped at Death’s doorstep. And now here he was, unsure if he should scream or cry, or beg for a quick death from the two Grim Reapers that decided his fate.

So he was left staring at Sylus and his guard dog, hands shaking and throat choked up. It’s the second henchman who steps forward to grab his employer and associate, dragging them out of the office. They scurry down the halls, desperate to leave as soon as possible.

Sylus chuckles once they leave. You just sigh against his neck.

“They were boring.”

“Next time, I’ll let you deal with them as you please,” he promises. His voice is softer. No longer does it have the edge of intimidation and danger, the edges smoothed away with affection.

You hum, lazily accepting the offer.

Sylus’s free hand moves to your exposed thigh. He works diligently to remove the holster, undoing one strap at a time, until it slides free from your leg. Red and black tendrils carry it to the desk, resting it softly on the dark wood. He tenderly rubs at the indents in your skin from the leather, drawing a contented sigh from you.

“You should go back to bed, sweetie,” he coos. “You didn’t need to bother yourself with this.”

You shake your head languidly from side to side, nose running up his neck, his jaw, until it presses behind his ear. “It’s part of our deal. Wake me next time,” you whisper.

He closes his eyes, savoring the sound of your breaths, the hush of your voice.

When he first met you, you didn’t say a word. The auction house awed and feared you, just as they awed and feared him. Two terrible forces of nature. When he danced with you that night, you’d tapped on his shoulder to communicate - one for no, two for yes. It wasn’t until your fourth encounter, when he proposed an agreement, that he heard your voice.

“Our deal has been long since fulfilled,” he reminded you. He turned his head, nose brushing against your cheek. “Or would you like to upgrade our terms?”

You breathe long and slow against him, silent. He knows better than to accept it as an answer one way or the other, where most people would consider it an immediate dismissal.

“I want… to go back to bed.”

He chuckles, but complies with your request. He lifts you effortlessly as he stands, your faces still tucked close together as he navigates the mansion. He can just hear Luke and Kieran laughing to themselves downstairs.

He passes by your old room. It was where you stayed for the first several weeks of your employment, before you wordlessly began climbing into his bed. It was a grand compliment. You encroaching on his space like a stray cat, finally deciding he is worthy of your mere presence.

The door to his bedroom opens with his Evol. He nudges it closed when he enters. Your side of the bed is still unmade, blankets shoved down to the end. Mephisto paced playfully along his perch. No doubt that’s how you’d learned of his meeting.

He lays you down, but before he can stand back up and pull the blankets over you, your arms wrap around his neck and pull him in for an unhurried kiss. He supports himself with a hand beside your head as the other cups your cheek. It’s sweet as honey, stinging like a bee when you bite down on his lip. He groans softly, suppressed by another sweet kiss. Your nails scratch up the back of his neck. One hand tangles within the soft white locks.

And pulls.

His head follows the movement, lips forming a delighted smirk as he looks down at you through half-lidded eyes. You grin minutely as you release him. “Stay?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

Your arms fall from his shoulders as you turn onto your side, facing his half of the bed. He stands up straight and goes back to his task of drawing the blankets back up around you. Even as you lay still, seemingly already fast asleep, he knows you’re listening intently as he disappears into the closet and changes into his sleepwear. You’re still awake when he slips into bed, and as he shifts to the middle. You slot yourself easily into his arms with a pleasant sound.

He falls asleep to the gentle rise and fall of your chest, and the warmth of your hand holding onto him.

[etherealily]

𝒮𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒟𝒮 // 🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇨​​🇴​​🇧​​🇸​.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Slur used.

This one is loooong.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Bender? Nah, bend...her (to your will).

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Nate didn't really seem the type to get anxious.

Okay, scratch that. He got anxious when you weren't there to high-five him before a game.

But even that didn't come close to whatever the fuck he was feeling when he called you that evening, yelling as if you'd killed his fucking cat, or something.

"Come faster, come faster!", he urged, ignoring you as you informed him you were only human, and you were on your way as fast as possible. The lewd joke was right there, and he didn't take it. Something was seriously wrong.

"Why the hell are you so jumpy?"

"I'll explain when you get here. Slight change of plans. You're wearing something... conservative, yeah?"

"What?"

"Like, jeans and a T-shirt is fine, I guess.", he muttered, on the other end of the line, as if he was mentally picturing exactly what he wanted you to be wearing.

"Did you think my original plan was to show up in lingerie?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, stop being so fucking defensive!"

That was a slur that you just heard in his voice. "Are you drunk?"

"You're scarily good at this."

"Why are you drunk already?" Wasn't even dark yet.

"Can you just fucking drive, please?"

You rolled your eyes, taking a small moment to sadistically picture his head caught in the wheel, before placing your phone down and speeding up the car that unfortunately had to relive the trauma of driving because Nate Jacobs told it to.

The Jacobs household was infuriatingly stereotypical. Of course he'd have a pretty spectacular front doorstep. It was almost designed to lure you in.

You weren't even allowed to ring the doorbell, he answered the door much before. That was a shame. You wanted to be the one forcing him to come somewhere reluctantly, for once.

"Don't speak unless spoken to." Well, hello to you, too.

"What?"

"It's not just us."

No, no, no, no.

"Nate, you fucking asshole.", you hissed.

"I didn't know! My brother found out you were coming over and told my parents, so they cancelled plans to meet you."

"Why?"

"'Cause our Dad's a jerk, and my Mom's probably going to judge you, and my brother's a coward who hates me."

That was way too much Jacobs drama for one single minute, and you were not even two steps into the house.

"Wait, just-"

"It's fine, just sit next to me, shut up, and don't like... make eye contact."

"Am I meeting your family or getting into the cage with a fucking tiger?"

"Also, don't cuss.", he warned, pointing a finger at you and guiding you by your shoulders further into the abyss he called a home. "Smile. A lot."

Was it really even a normal family dinner if you had to be prepped this much? No, probably not.

"Hey, look who finally showed up!", he chuckled, the fakest breeze in his voice as he steered your shoulders towards a chair.

The rest of the Jacobs family looked up at you.

And suddenly, you'd have been fine clinging to Nate, because he was evidently the mildest of them. Rich freaks.

"Oh, the project partner." His mother, laying plates down on the table before patting your head, was a sight to behold. "Bit late.", she remarked, sickening sweetness lacing her tone as she stared pointedly at Nate behind you as if you couldn't fucking see it.

"Yeah, well, she's just learning to drive, y'know? Goes really slow."

Oh, boo-fucking-hoo, mama's boy, just say you had no intention of having your family here tonight.

"Nate, you never told me she could legally drive."

That must be the brother - the coward. He looked like he'd fucking rip you apart with just a glare.

"I didn't tell you anything.', he mumbled, more for you than him, before making his voice louder. "Y/N, this is my brother, Aaron, Aaron, Y/N."

His eyes made your skin crawl. Like you were a weapon he'd just been able to use against Nate.

"And, uh, my dad. Dad, this is, uh-"

You had no idea when your name had become so hard for him to pronounce, the way he was unable to get it out.

"Y/N, yes, I heard. I'm Cal. Cal Jacobs."

You'd take Nate forcing a gun down your throat to the feel of Cal's hand shaking yours any day.

In comparison, Nate's gun was basically the gentlest thing you'd ever be able to feel. A caress, essentially.

"Sit, sit.", he instructed, gesturing at you to do as he said in his own house or else. "So."

He was so fucking drunk. You could see it in his eyes.

Both Cal and Nate Jacobs were shitfaced.

Nate, you understood, because after hearing his description, even you seemed to need liquid courage to get through a dinner with his drunk dad.

"So.", responded Nate, blankly, as he sat down next to you, as promised.

The chairs you were on were fancy but seemed tired, in a way. Like they were putting up a strong front.

"What, pray tell, is this famous project that you've apparently been sneaking out for, according to Aaron?"

Oh, that was the problem! The sneaking out! Oh, that was okay, that was in your jurisdiction, you could just fix it. Make it sound like there was no other time to meet up. Cool cool cool.

"It's just this thing for psychology. About athletes and superstitions."

"My Nate doesn't have any superstitions. He wins because he's the best.", interjected his mother, as if you'd been holding a gun to his face and she'd just jumped in front of him. You looked at the giant plate she'd just set down. Fucking steak.

With a knowing glance at Nate, you nodded. "Yes, but jocks don't really like admitting it. So I just ask him about his buddies who do have superstitions. Seeing as he has none of his own."

You didn't bother to look at the fuck-you-so-much glare he was sending your way.

"Oh, yes, Mom, Nate's just the best. Don't you think he's just the best, Y/N?", cooed Aaron, clearly hinting at something only he and Nate were in on.

"Yes, yes, he's very good at what he does."

"What he does?"

"I mean, you are talking about him as QB, right?"

He took a gulp of water, nodding as he searched into your eyes for some tell that he'd expected you to have. "Right."

Nate subtly shook his head after you frowned at him. Let it go.

"So, you've taken psychology."

His dad didn't really seem the jerk that Nate had made him out to be. Sure, he had the whole terrifying handshake thing going, but he wasn't all bad. He was the only one with his sanity intact, and the fact that he was plastered yet normal was both relieving and mildly concerning.

"Yeah."

"How come?"

"Always been interested in how it works."

"Can you read minds?"

"Essentially."

"Read mine."

"I... don't know you well enough."

"Later, then. When we know each other a bit better. Meanwhile, dig in."

Involuntarily, your gaze turned back to the asshole you'd had the misfortune of interacting with for the past three weeks, and he nodded, either telling you you did well, or giving you permission to eat.

Either way, your mouth was now shut and would continue to be unless someone forced it open. The awkward clinks of glasses and clangs of cutlery rang through the room, battling fruitlessly to dissolve the tension.

"How's the food?"

Why was Nate trying to get you to talk?

"Oh, great, I really like it."

Nate's mother smiled at that. "Well, thanks. It's actually a new recipe I found on some obscure old cooking show tape my mother had recorded, back in her day! God, I'm telling you, those were simpler times."

Oh. So Nate hadn't cooked. Couldn't say you were surprised.

"Well, it's lovely.", you replied, smiling down at the garbage you had to put into your system. It was nothing personal, really, steak was just gross.

"I must say, Y/N, you're so much more polite than that girl. She was a real-"

"Mom. Mom.", warned Nate, shaking his head and waving his hand in front of his throat in a cut it out motion."She's friends with Maddy."

The entire table suddenly went silent, as if he'd just confirmed your involvement in a pyramid scheme. "Oh.", said Aaron, and his fucking eyes showed you he was full of pure mirth. "That's interesting."

"You're friends with both Nate and Maddy?", questioned Mrs Jacobs, as if trying so desperately to figure out your intentions for her baby boy.

"I'm friends with Maddy, and have been for... basically my whole life. And, yeah, I guess now I'm friends with Nate for the project. I don't get why it's so-"

"She's pretending to be her friend, Mom, alright? It's a childhood loyalty thing, but no one likes Maddy, she's a fu- she's not likeable."

Oh, so now Nate could suddenly write out your entire story and replace it with a script of his own making?

Acting as if she'd just dodged a cancer scare, she placed her hand on her chest, sighing in relief. "Thank god. You could've said that, dear. I was worried for a moment there."

You looked back down at the food. You couldn't shake the feeling that your lack of response had been a form of betrayal, though it was rooted in fear.

"So you and Nate are friends?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

I don't know, Aaron, why do people befriend psychopaths? To save their own asses, of course.

"I mean... what do I even say to that?", you laughed, and it was supposed to mock him, but it just showed how nervous you really were. Fuck. Blood in shark-infested waters. "I guess he's... a nice guy, so, y'know."

Even you didn't believe that. Even NATE didn't believe that.

"That's a new one."

You nodded, clearing your throat as you continued to work on slicing up your steak. All three Jacobs men watched the piece go into your mouth and you wanted to throw it right back up.

"You think he's hot?"

"What?"

"Nate. My lil' bro. You think he's hot?"

"Aaron, honestly!", muttered his mother, shaking her head as if this was all just a playful banter session. "Stop it. Nate said they're friends, so they're friends."

Your phone buzzed.

'I really didn't know they'd be here.'

'Shut up.'

'Ur doing great.'

'I said shut up.'

'Lol.'

"Nate, didn't you tell her we've got a strict no-phones-at-the-table rule?"

You stuffed the phone back in your pocket, as well as any hope you'd get out of this house anytime soon.

"I mean, you're a total smokeshow. And he's..."

"Aaron."

Aaron smirked through his chewing, winking at you. "Well, he's attracted to smokeshows. Total match. But you're, what, a cheerleader? That's his real type."

"No, I'm not a cheerleader."

He sucked in breath, sharply, tutting as he shaked his head. "Tough luck."

"Aaron.", warned Nate, sucking his teeth. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying. It's not surprising he hasn't dicked you down yet."

THAT escalated fast.

"Aaron! No cussing at the table, and especially not in front of guests.", hissed Mrs. Jacobs, as if her youngest son's entire vocabulary didn't consist of the word 'fuck'. "I'm sorry, he gets like this when he teases his brother."

"Or maybe he... oh, wait, didn't he invite you here alone first?", mused Aaron, frowning in mock curiosity.

Nate's hand found your knee under the table, patting the side of it as if he could tell you were losing it. There was some kind of psychological warfare underfoot, and you weren't in on the joke, the origin or the punchline. You were being blindsided. Let it go. Fuck what his eyes told you, you'd fucking riot if you didn't get out of there right now.

Cal, who'd been perfectly silent for all this time, leaned back in his chair, his fork down and apparently, his booze-filled blood shooting up. "I'm curious, too. In more polite words than that. Why are you and Y/N just friends?"

Okay, this was clearly not your jurisdiction. This treatment was not because he'd, like, broken curfew or something.

"Dad, we're just partners. Project partners."

"Shame. She's a knockout."

Okay, Aaron saying that was creepy enough.

"No, seriously, Y/N, you're really beautiful. Nate couldn't do better if he tried." Sounded backhanded, and it probably was. "If you're not attracted to him, it's kind of an insult to me, isn't it?", he inquired, innocently, his eyes twinkling. "Aren't I good looking?"

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" It was weird seeing Nate playing the white knight in your story and not the dragon, but hey, you'd take it.

"I mean...", continued Cal, taking a bite of his food, all the while gazing at you. "Unless your issue is just with his personality. Because then..."

What. The. Fuck.

"Y'know.", said Cal, offhandedly, as if the entire fucking table didn't know what he was implying. "Just food for thought."

"What the fuck are you guys doing?", he repeated, his voice sounding more strained by the minute.

"Nate."

"No, Mom, I will fucking cuss, if they're sitting here being fucking assholes about it!"

"Don't you DARE talk to me like that, son!", yelled Cal, and suddenly, you felt like a voyeur zooming in on someone else's life, someone else's argument, someone else's issues.

Aaron lifted up his hands in defense, standing up as well. "Hey, man, I'm just saying. You're disappointing men everywhere if you don't hit that."

"Oh, you're one to talk, you bitchless waste of FUCKING space."

"One goddamn night! One goddamned night without this bullshit, please!"

"Oh, come on, Marsha, you know full fucking well you're no innocent here! You've raised these boys up so goddamn weak that they can't even fucking do their own laundry, and CLEARLY can't fucking learn RESPECT!"

Evidently the no-cuss-rule was out.

Nate's hand slammed down on the table next to you so hard your plate shook, and suddenly, you wished you had shown up in lingerie. At least the mother would've kicked you out as soon as you'd walked in.

Your eyes stayed on your fork, the shitty fucking steak, and you waited. For what, you didn't know. But eventually, Nate sat back down, and so did the other two Jacobs men.

Okay. Phew.

And then Nate muttered 'faggot', and suddenly, Aaron was ushering you into a room - Nate's room, he informed you, in a hurry - and you were locked in. Screams, the sound of things slamming on the floor, and a distinct crack ensued.

FUCKING CHRIST.

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The light from the living room beamed into the room with the monogrammed pillows -pathetic, you had to remember to mock him for it later- about twelve minutes later.

You knew that because you'd been keeping track.

The entire evening was surrounded by a lack of clarity, and after whatever had happened out there that you were not allowed to be privy to, thankfully , you were now completely in the dark as to what the whole stiff, insinuation during dinner was all about. What, they thought you guys were hooking up, was that it?

But all that just dissipated once you saw Nate standing in the doorway, looking at you as if he had just accidentally broken your favourite toy on the playground at five years old. And he was even drunker than he was before.

And once more, you allowed your heart to break for Nate Jacobs.

Wait, no, scratch that.

Your heart broke for him, with none of your own volition. It just fucking happened.

"Are you okay?" What you were really asking was 'did he hurt you?', but you didn't say it.

He didn't respond, and instead took cautious steps toward you, as though you were a bomb he'd never learnt to dismantle before.

But the caution wore off quite fast, because suddenly, your hands were stroking his hair and he was clinging onto you like a vine. Or a python with its prey. TBD.

He kept muttering things into the crook of your neck, things that vaguely resembled 'I'm sorry', but, I mean, it was Nate.

That was usually followed by some kind of blackmail, right?

Blackmail, not pained moments when his mind led him to thoughts that made him grip tighter onto you, like the hug was his lifeline. RIGHT?

"I'm so fucking sorry."

Evidently, you'd heard him right the first time.

"It's okay. Shh. It's okay." At this point there was nothing else you could do except lie to him.

"I fucking hate him, he's a fucking asshole!", he grunted, his words muffled but strong in your hair.

"It's fine, I wasn't offended." You understood. People are weird when drunk. Not usually asking a minor to fuck them kind of weird, but maybe that was just your lack of exposure.

He pushed you away, looking at you as if you'd just suggested cannibalism or something even more sickening. "It's fine? You weren't offended? Y/N, my dad literally asked to fuck you! What, do you want him to, is that why you were looking at him like that?"

'He's sloshed, he's sloshed, he's sloshed.' , you reminded yourself, lest you punch him again.

"Nate-"

"No. I have a question.", he said, closing his eyes and then opening them wide for a moment. This told you that the liquor had just pierced his skull. "You- You fuck Shane Crestin, the biggest fucking cunt in the world, you wanna fuck my DAD, but you won't fuck ME?", he asked, his voice increasing in decibel and his finger repeatedly slamming against his chest, like he apparently wanted to do to you.

SLOSHED, SLOSHED, SLOSHED. Remember.

"Nate, I didn't fuck Shane, I don't want to fuck your dad, and I- I don't wanna fuck anyone!"

"Why not ME? Do you not like me? You think I'm a prick? I'm not good enough for your whore ass?"

"Nate, I'm just-"

"HOW ARE YOU SO FINE WITH MY DAD WANTING TO FUCK YOU?!"

"I'm not! It makes me sick, but-"

"SO WHY WON'T YOU SAY HE'S AN ASSHOLE? SAY IT! SAY IT!"

"Nate-"

"FUCKING SAY IT!"

You almost cried at how fast you had to dodge the lamp that came whizzing your way before crashing and disintegrating against the wall behind you.

It amazed you how you knew that this boy's mother and brother were probably still lingering in the same house, hearing this bullshit, and yet not a peep came out of them. Fucking jerks.

"Nate."

"I swear to god, Y/N, if you don't say it right now-"

"Fine, he's an asshole!"

He looked up at you. He didn't believe it. It's fine, you didn't give a shit anymore. It went without saying, and if he needed you to say it, he was an idiot. "Bullshit."

"You're not apologizing?"

"For what? Yelling? No, I'm not."

Deliberately obtuse, just like always.

Speaking of which, you were a hundred percent sure you'd been grazed at your temple. Your fingers returned from the site with red all over them.

"I could've been hurt." You displayed those fingers to him, right in front of the eyes, so he could better view the same scarlet gore you had to see in his first ever text to you, but he looked at them like you'd showed him his own face in the mirror.

'That's normal', his look said.

"You could've fucked my dad, too, but neither of those things happened tonight." This was what he actually said.

It was like he'd forgotten what happened two seconds ago. Like the shards of glass lying in front of his wall had always been there, and were nothing out of the ordinary.

"Okay, that's fucking it.", you scoffed, shouldering past him on your way out. You'd hoped he wouldn't stop you, but you'd known he would.

"No."

Okay, you'd expected 'wait', or something nicer.

"Shut up, Nate, don't push me."

"You're bleeding. The corner store doesn't have first-aid. I do."

He said it like that was the answer to everything. That you should never have any more questions about his actions.

You let him lead you back to the bed, the silence gnawing at you both. He seemed more than happy to let it devour him whole, seeing as he was tight-lipped and disinterested, almost, when he turned on the light in his bathroom, foraging around for his first-aid kit, or whatever.

He looked like he was about to go batshit for a second time that night, the frantic manner in which he was throwing stuff off his counter to find it, yanking the drawers open so forcefully they'd scream if they could.

Luckily, though, he found the damn thing, tossing it to you from where he stood. Catching it, you opened the box, wordlessly rummaging through for cotton or band-aids or something to keep your hand and eyes - and most importantly, mind - busy.

The cotton sitting nervously in your hand, you took tentative steps into the bathroom, wisely keeping your distance from Nate, who stood still, ruminating on something with one hand still on the drawer's handle.

You stood in front of the mirror.

The mirror lied to you. It always has, always will. Your damage looked minimal, but that was excluding the emotional one.

You looked away from your reflection's eyes to focus on the side of your forehead, and sometimes to your left, at the occassional huff that escaped him.

Mirror-you grimaced just like real-you, as you harshly rubbed at the skin around your cut. So much red.

At this point, it was impossible to avoid your own eyes, those essentially vapid pools of numbness at this point. You didn't know what was going on, and lord knew if you'd understand it even if it was explained to you like a five year old.

Because it couldn't be real. You couldn't be standing right next to the guy who almost maybe blinded you, maybe even KILLED you, had the impact been angled differently.

Your pain only seemed to be getting exacerbated the more cotton you used up. The piece of glass you were trying to remove from your temple was stubborn, like the man who helped transform it from its shape to a shard.

When you finally did remove it, you were quick to try to put a stopper to the gushing blood coming out of it, but the way you did it had you wanting to scream in agony.

"What the hell are you doing? You're supposed to dab, not rub.", he muttered, sucking in his breath sharply as he slapped your hands away, seeming furious at you for not knowing what to do after you get impaled by a piece of broken glass. "The rubbing makes it worse."

His finger turned your jaw toward him, and he snatched the cotton from you before dabbing softly at and around the wound where the little refracting fragment of glass had sat before, and intact, unblemished skin had sat once before that.

Dutifully grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from the first aid box, he tilted it so that it would gently stain the cotton, before pressing it to your temple, shushing you softly as you winced.

Jovially traumatizing what you imagined to be every single cell in the wound, the antiseptic finally fizzled out, its effect no longer sharp and concentrated and debilitatingly painful.

"You're a mess." His voice was so cold, so unkind, so... detached.

You're one to talk.

"Are you going to say anything?" He sounded almost... bored.

You stayed silent. If he thought you were going to give him more things to throw shit at you over, he was sorely mistaken.

He sighed, his jaw ticking slightly. "Y/N."

Your eyes moved away from the mirror behind him and back to his.

He paused his lazy movements to look down at you, your eyes, specifically, before gently bending down so he was suddenly looking up at them.

What that was supposed to achieve was unclear, but what it did affect was your ability to look away.

"I want to hear your voice.", he informed, his eyes moving between yours.

Like a bull craves the muleta.

Glancing down at him, you realized his eyes didn't match his tone. There was something almost dead about them.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Cuss me out, maybe? I don't know. I don't like the quiet."

"Why, 'cause it makes you think?", you scoffed.

"Yes, actually.", he replied, looking at you deadpan. "It does, and that's not really what I wanna do right now, okay?"

He wasn't bored, you realized. He was numb.

"Okay."

"So say something, damn it."

"About what?"

"Y/N. Listen to me when I'm talking to you. I don't give a shit. ANYTHING." He shook your shoulders as if that would cause you to spit out a good conversation in the aftermath of this night.

"Okay, uh... you promised me you'd listen to Queen with me."

He stared at you for a good while before his face softened, just enough for you to wonder if you'd imagined it, and then he frowned. "I did?"

"Yes."

"Then I will."

You nodded. "'Kay."

"Tell me about Queen."

"Look, man, I don't know-"

"Y/N.", he warned, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he reached for a band-aid, eyes never leaving your wound.

"Jeez, fine. Uh, 'We Will Rock You'. 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. 'Another One Bites The Dust'."

"That was them?", he mused softly, the words dying out a little before they reached your ears, as he ripped the cover open with his teeth, then unwrapped the band-aid.

"Yes. Freddie Mercury's the lead singer."

"The one with the teeth?", he inquired, pressing slightly on the band-aid to ensure it stuck.

The sheer dichotomy of what he was doing - cleaning up a wound caused by him that might have killed you- and what he was saying - some quip about the lead singer of some '70's band he'd barely heard of - was astounding.

"Yup." You popped your p, hoping that would echo around the room and fill the silence for long enough that Nate wouldn't pester you to talk again, which was the last thing you felt like doing.

He gazed at your wound for a little while longer before nodding. "Done. Don't touch it for another week, maybe two."

"Okay."

"And I'll get you, like, a blanket or whatever, let me just put this shit back."

"A blanket?"

"Well, yeah. You don't get cold? What are you, superhuman?"

"I'm not staying here. I'm going home."

"Like hell you are.", he laughed dryly, opening his drawer and carefully placing the box back in before moving to the sink again. His hands moved quickly, squeezing paste onto his brush. "Not this late."

You looked down at your watch. "It's nine."

"It's late."

You snorted. "Thought you were the badass curfew-less one. Now you're freaking out about nine p.m?"

Why were you even still talking to this... thing in front of you? Why were you arguing with him? You could just fucking walk out.

He rolled his eyes, his toothbrush being as thorough as possible for a couple minutes before he spat it out, gargling and then turning to look at you. "It's late."

"I'm not spending the night, Nate."

"You a sleep-talker? 'Cause that's crazy shit.", he said, spitting out his mouthwash and wiping with the back of his hand, walking past you as he opened a cupboard, and tossed a heavy-looking duvet down at your feet.

"Nate, I'm not staying over!"

"But the really creepy ones are the sleep-walkers, I'm tellin' you.", he continued, shaking his head as he picked and chose two of his pillows and threw them at your feet, too. "My cousin, back when we were eight, I woke up and found him, like, banging his head on the door. Ouija board shit, bro, I'm tellin' you."

It was clear he was blatantly ignoring you, but what infuriated you the most was that he expected you to sleep on the same floor which was strewn with dangerous, nigh invisible shards of glass.

"Nate!"

"No, seriously, I don't care if it's like, a medical condition or whatever, they're like the fucking Conjuring movie, bro!", he declared, throwing his hands up as he distractedly moved to the other side of his bed, now, checking his phone. "You're not one of 'em, right?"

"You're such a fucking asshole, I'm leaving."

"If you step out that door, I will fucking kill you."

What unnerved you was that his eyes never moved from his phone. This was as casual as his reply to his Mom asking what he wanted for breakfast or something.

Saying he'd kill you was like saying 'pancakes with butter' to him.

"What?"

"I'm going to kill you if you leave." , he huffed, tiredly. And this time, it was clear he really was bored. Bored of the conversation, bored of your resistance, bored.

"You're fucked up."

"Look, sweetie, we've both had a long day-"

"Don't fucking call me that."

He let out a breathy snicker, nodding. Almost like he'd been wondering when you'd call him out on it.

"Fair. Look, bitch, we've both had a long day...", he corrected himself, with a self-satisfied grin, before continuing, "... and I'm not letting you drive home alone with a bleeding forehead."

"I thought you fixed it."

"With the way you're yelling right now, the blood vessel you're about to pop could rip the bandage from the inside out. Look- I- I can't deal with this shit, Y/N, okay? Not tonight. So shut up and close the fucking door."

"My family's expecting me home."

He raised a brow, as if you'd just said something so pathetic he almost felt sorry for you - like you'd just said you still fucking watched Disney Channel, or something. "They know you're here?"

"No." As if.

"Where do they think you are?"

Oh, he'd expected you to have told them you were with another friend. Sorry to disappoint, asshole, but some people aren't as prepared to stay over because their friend had a psycho family.

"I'd rather not talk about it - I don't like to recall my lies."

His eyes widened, and it looked like, for the first time that entire, painful night, he was actually amused, and fuck you for being so pathetic, but you were actually glad you'd mitigated the agony, at least a little bit. "They still think you're at your internship? You didn't tell them?"

"Tell them what? That some jock thinks touching me is his good luck charm, so he stalked me, found out where I worked, and cost me my entire internship by barging in?"

"Or you could've just said your boss was a perv, and you quit."

"He wasn't a perv."

"I'm a guy. I can tell."

Wow, way to dig at an entire gender's ability to perceive danger.

You shook your head, rubbing your forehead. "What is your problem, Nate?"

"I care too much."

You laughed loudly at that, and he looked too tired to even be mad. "I just don't like the thought of you driving home alone at night, okay? Simple as that."

"Then don't think the thought."

"You're staying."

"Like hell I am."

He groaned, putting his phone back down and rubbing his face as he walked towards the front of the bed - towards you. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. Because my family-"

He rolled his eyes, reaching into your pocket and grabbing both your wrists to keep you from stopping him as he scrolled through your contacts - god, you had to get a fucking passcode.

"Maddy- no fucking way.", he mumbled, his thumb racing across the screen. "Cassie- one of Maddy's minions, so no- oh. Who's Lex?"

"Alexis."

"Oh, Alexis Howard? Lexi? She'll cover for you, right?"

"Not without telling Cassie. Now give me back my phone!"

"She won't tell Cassie. How's this? 'Lex, tell my family I'm sleeping over at yours, ok? Love you, xoxo!'", he read out, his voice attempting to mimic yours.

"Is that what you think girls talk like?"

"Yeah, with a scary amount of emojis."

"Misogynist."

"Badge of honour, baby. I'm sure Lexi, one of your best gal pals will cover for you."

Yes, of course, but that was besides the point.

"That's not the point-"

"The point is that you don't feel safe enough to fall asleep around me."

"What?"

"That hurts, sweetie."

"You know what else hurts?", you spat, pointing at the band-aid at your temple.

"It'll heal." He was still refusing to apologize.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

"Smash or pass, uh... McKay."

You almost laughed right then and there. "Smash."

"Really?"

You looked up at his ceiling, imagining him up on the bed, judging your smashability-scale.

"Yeah, why not?"

"You could never do it, you know? Realistically. You're not his type."

"Shut up. Smash or pass... Kat."

"Pass. Hard. Pass."

"Why?"

"I should say it's because she's close to Maddy, but you and I both know the real reason is 'cause she's so fucking ugly that-"

"Alright, shut up."

"See, this is the problem with you girls. Just agree. She's ugly."

"I don't think anyone's ugly. I think it's all action-based."

"God, then you must think I'm hideous."

He scoffed at the silence that followed. "Ouch."

"I don't think you're hideous, Nate. Just extremely unattractive."

"Superlatives, really? Y'know, whatever, I deserve it. Uh... smash or pass, Shane."

"Uh... pass."

"Why?" The glee in his voice was evident and mildly amusing.

"He cussed me out after I said the date wasn't going well."

The laughter that escaped Nate seemed to go on for hours on end. "In the middle of the restaurant?!"

"We weren't in a restaurant."

"Where were you guys?"

"He took me to a club or something."

Nate's face came into your peripheral view as he peered over the edge of the bed to face you. "On a first date."

You nodded. "Yup."

"The guy's both a fucking tool and a miserable little cunt. Anything other than a restaurant is fucking unacceptable for a first date."

"I know, even a bowling alley's fine, but a club is stupid, right? I mean, like, at the very least a café."

He nodded, his mouth curling down slightly. "Yeah, at least. Bare minimum."

It was uncomfortable, him looking down at you with pity the same night that his father had embarrassed him and cussed him out. Wasn't right. "Well, whatever. Smash or pass, uh... Rue."

"Rue Bennett? We got history, so, uh, I dunno."

"History?"

"A miscommunication during prom.", he told you, shrugging, but it was clearly something much more serious. "She's hot when she's off the drugs, I guess."

You rolled your eyes and he smiled.

"Hey, Y/N?" He didn't move back to his pillow, instead letting his arms dangle off the edge of the bed as he reached and toyed with a strand of your hair, glancing down at you. "I'll leave you alone after tonight, okay?"

"What?"

"Like, I- tonight? It was... bad. And I'm... I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm, I'm sorry. If you just, y'know, fist-bump me before every game, we'll be good. Okay? I won't bother you outside of that."

See, he said this, but his thumb kept returning to your lower lip every two seconds. You'd be a fool not to take this deal. But you'd be a liar if you said you remembered anything about life before Nate.

"Okay."

"You should get to sleep. It's two."

"What will you do?"

"Try to sleep.", he mumbled, his eyes moving away from you and towards the glass, which lay several feet away from you, on your left - almost like it was trying to reach your heart.

Your eyes followed his, and you sighed. "For the record, I don't want to fuck your dad."

"Yeah. I got that now."

"You gotta stop drinking, man."

He chuckled, nodding. "No. But thanks for the concern." Rolling back over, he left you staring at the ceiling once more, as if there were clues there as to the enigma that was Nate Jacobs.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

When you'd pulled up to your driveway the next morning - Sunday - it hit you that you were free of Nate forever. Last night, you'd have probably not known how to feel about that. This morning? Fucking elated.

You didn't even have to draw out a map, or take a single moment to think it over - every single problem in your life over the last month could be traced to him.

So fucking yay. Good riddance.

And the next day, Monday, you realized something.

School had never been so fucking fun.

Your classes started making more sense, seeing as you no longer had to look over your shoulder for some motherfucker who'd slit his own throat if you didn't go where he wanted. Fucking yay.

No, seriously. That's it. We're done here. No more Nate. End of story.

...

Ha.

So gullible.

----

Nights after Nate had always been the hardest.

Because you always found yourself losing your sanity and you knew that the only person who could even remotely get your mind off it was Nate himself.

Maybe that was his allure.

Hurting you then comforting you.

Making you cry then wiping the tears away.

But that night, he wasn't there with a blunt or tequila. Hell, you'd have even taken the gun. And you should've been ecstatic that he'd finally left you the hell alone, but at this point you had no clue what you were supposed to be feeling.

The only thing you could do was block him. Show him how mad you were. In your past experience, that didn't really matter to him, but you were running out of options.

And you probably shouldn't have done that, because you might have gotten a heads up about Tuesday.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

You should've had your guard up as soon as you saw Nate walk into the school library that Tuesday afternoon, his eyes somehow darker than when he'd asked you to your face, no less, if you wanted to bang his father. You had no clue whether you had to hide or just keep doing what you did.

Flight or flight was fucking useless.

But your guard wasn't up, at least not immediately, because it was Nate. Because he may terrify you and almost kill you, but he'd never hurt you, because he just... worked differently. Things that may make someone psychopathic, he thought were normal. No biggie.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't secretly hoping he'd come back to further provoke you, because not-being-mad at him was kind of a grey area for you. It wasn't your usual state of being.

The moment your guard went up, though, was when Aaron walked in behind him. Hands in his pockets. Did he have a knife in there? Money? Or would he just flip you off?

You didn't want to find out, but it also didn't seem like you had much of a choice.

[orshii]

Highway to Cloud Nine

🏍️ Pairing: biker! Kim Hongjoong x mechanic! female reader 🏍️ Word count: 12,8 k 🏍️ Warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol use, smoking, shotgun, cheating (not by Hongjoong), angst, suggestive 🏍️Trope: Brother's best friend

🏍️ Summary: The car service you run with your brother, Jongho, is rather challenging, especially in his absence when you must manage everything on your own. Kim Hongjoong, your brother’s best friend, needs urgent repairs for his bike only complicating everything more for you, however, some tension also arises between the two of you as you notice a shift in your dynamic.

San, who is your ex, only makes everything more complicated when he reappears in your life. You’re faced with two choices now: you navigate your life the way you want it or you let the fear of disappointing your brother consume you.

🏍️ A/N: Hello there! Here I am again because suddenly I became obsessed with biker Hongjoong and I can't get over it. Nice! And I just love the brother's best friend trope. This story popped up in my mind in like 15 minutes and I don't know when I was able to write this much only in two days, lol. So yeah, I hope I managed to convert what I wanted, (sorry Sannie), and I hope you enjoy hehet! (this Hongjoong is so HOT I want to be the MC.) Byee! (divider)

The loud banging on the door coming from the garage under our flat disturbed my evening as I watched a TV show, tired of the day full of chaos. I stood up annoyed, thinking who was coming at this hour when we were closed for the day. I went to the stairs that led down to the car service we ran with my brother Jongho, who was away for a trip with his girlfriend. We named our service, Limitless and it has been almost ten years since we led this business. I grew up with cars and bikes and fell in love with fixing the machines and just admiring some expensive collections that some rich people owned. I already finished college and until I found what I wanted to do for a living, I decided I was going to help my brother out for a while as he was capable of overworking himself. I convinced him to get some rest because he needed a little break from the nonstop work in the garage. Our parents were long gone out of our lives. Our mom died and our dad was nowhere to be seen since then. We remained alone and Jongho took care of me since then. And I couldn't be more grateful for him, so this is why I told him I could manage the garage for a few days and he didn't need to worry about a thing. It was hard managing alone but I needed to do this for my beloved brother because he deserved a break.

I went downstairs as it led to the garage, the familiar smell of oil and steel hit my nose and the banging on the garage door did not stop.

"Coming!" I said annoyed by the loud noise.

I unlocked the door and saw a frustrated Kim Hongjoong standing in front of the garage. His biker helmet in his hands, his dark red hair falling onto his forehead a little wet from sweating, his undercut barely in sight. He was wearing his black leather jacket a white T-shirt under it, his pumped-up chest on the sight, paired with black skinny jeans that were ripped on the knees. As I saw it was him, I rolled my eyes annoyed, because I hated this guy. He was a walking red flag with his red hair that screamed he was a bad guy from far away. He was Jongho's best friend and he was a daily guest in our service. He always annoyed the shit out of me and he seemed he did not like me as much as I didn't like him.

"We are closed Hongjoong, what do you want?" I asked still holding the door, ready to slam it into his face.

"Where is Jongho? He didn't answer my calls." He asked running his fingers through his wet hair.

"He is on a trip with his girlfriend so don't disturb him." I deadpanned as I was ready to slam the door. But Hongjoong's hands prevented it.

"When is he coming back?" He seemed desperate.

"Tomorrow night."

"Fuck!" He shouted out loud stressed as he buried his face into his hands.

I sighed annoyed. I did not start to pity him; I was just curious. "Why?"

"Something happened with my bike and I have an important race tonight. I pushed my bike all the way here because it won't start no matter what I do. But now I'm fucked." His gaze bored into mine as he sighed.

I looked behind him, where his big dark red motorbike was standing waiting for a hand to repair it. "It doesn't get fuel?"

"I don’t know, I'm not a mechanic." He said looking over his shoulders at his beloved bike. "But I really need it for tonight."

I sighed for the thousandth time this evening. "Bring it in. I can fix it." I mumbled annoyed. Yes, I might have pitied Hongjoong, because he seemed so desperate and it seemed it was really important for him. Fixing cars—and bikes apparently—was my job and I just couldn't resist my passion, which helped me through tough times. Fixing cars helped me organize my thoughts and to even not think at all. So, I offered my help.

Hongjoong seemed quite surprised at that as he raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Come before I change my mind."

Hongjoong did as told and pushed the bike into the garage as I lifted the door up. His bike was a shade of dark red, with some black colors appearing on the sharp features, the lamp on the front was sharp and it looked like sharp eyes, which reminded me of Hongjoong’s eyes.  I prepared some tools I needed to fix the bike. As I analyzed it a little and tried to start the engine, I already knew what was the problem and it wasn't that big of a deal. The fuel just couldn't reach the engine, because a part of the engine was slacked and it didn't let the fuel flow into the engine. I felt Hongjoong's gaze on me the whole time as I crouched down next to the bike so I could repair it.

"Can I help you with something?" He asked a little embarrassed as he scratched the back of his nape.

"No, just sit and let me work." I deadpanned as I looked up at him as he was standing next to me.

So, he sat down and silence fell over us. I was curious so I asked. "So, again those illegal races? I thought you stopped."

"I need money." He stated.

"For what?"

"It's none of your business."

I scoffed as I tried to screw a clamp into its place. "Okay, big boy."

"Can you just do your work?" His voice came out frustrated.

I stopped, as I looked at him in disbelief. I couldn't believe this guy. "I'm making a favor for you, so shut the fuck up!" I started to get angry.

He laughed. "Oh sorry, princess for disturbing you." His voice sounded sarcastic and annoyed.

I really tried to stay calm, it was in both of our favor. "Don't call me a princess!"

"Don't be mad, princess." He always did this, to annoy my shit out and today was not the day when I let him do it.

So, I stopped what I did and stood up with a scoff. "You know what? Go fuck yourself and your bike. It's not my business as you told me. The door is that way." I pointed towards the door as I dropped the spanner on the dusty concrete floor and turned away to leave him there. I just lost my patience and was under pressure the whole day, he needed to step over it, because he didn’t care.

Then he grabbed my wrist and whirled me around to look into his eyes. He was hovering over me with a deadly stare, his lips in a thin line, his red hair messy. "No, you fucking get that spanner and fix my bike, because I need it!" His face was close to mine, I felt his heavy breathing on my cheeks.

"Fix it yourself, the tools are there." I pointed at the ground towards his bike.

"Stop this shitty attitude of yours, Y/N! I really need to win this race tonight, please!" He seemed like he was near dropping to his knees and begging for me.

"Oh, you can say such things as well like, please? I'm surprised" I said as I pushed him away from my face, with my hands on his chest. I needed to show him, that he couldn't just control me and to be unrespectable with me. I couldn’t let that, I fixed his beloved bike so he was going to disappear as quickly as I wanted because I did not want to see his face.

And when I finished his bike and started the engine, it lighted up and it was ready to race for whatever reason it needed to. When Hongjoong left he mumbled something that sounded like a thank you and that he was going to arrange the price with Jongho. Like my brother fixed it…

Then I went upstairs, the quiet of our flat reminding me of how tired I was from working all day. So, after a short shower, I collapsed into my bed, trying to compose myself for another tiring day without Jongho as I fell asleep finally, an annoying face with red hair popped up in my dream that turned out to be a nightmare.

It was the middle of the night when I got a call. I groaned in frustration as I hated it when I couldn't get my well-deserved beauty sleep. It was still dark outside as my room was in complete darkness, my phone on the nightstand the only light in it. I reached for my phone; I just couldn't imagine what was so important that couldn't wait until the morning. When I grabbed my phone, it lit my face and I squinted my eyes from the sudden brightness, couldn't even read who was calling me, I just answered.

"Y/N! Thank God you picked up!" Comes a familiar and annoying voice from the phone.

I looked at my phone to check the time and I grew more annoyed when I saw that Hongjoong's name was looking back at me. "Hongjoong, it's 3 in the morning what the hell do you want?"

"I know, I'm sorry. But I think I need a little help." His voice seemed a little sheepish. Like he was embarrassed for calling me—as he should be.

"What the hell happened now?"

"I crashed with my bike…I need help in carrying it away…Please, I swear I'mma pay you back, but the police can't find me, I'mma be in big trouble if they do."

I squeezed the bridge of my nose in frustration as I shot my eyes closed. "Where are you?"

He mumbled something about being next to a factory on the edge of the city and thanked me at least a thousand times. I sat up with a groan, I couldn't believe myself, why couldn't I just say no to him? I was even surprised by myself. Then I sat up in the black Jeep we bought with Jongho together, the trailer hanging from behind as I was on the way to save Hongjoong's ass, the second time in like 10 hours—he was going to pay for this for the rest of his life I'm going to make sure about it.

When I was reaching Hongjoong's location my eyes averted around the surroundings, trying to find him. It seemed it rained a few hours before because the asphalt was wet and slippery. Then suddenly he appeared in front of my car and I almost hit him, I stepped on the brakes quickly and cursed. The sight in front of me was like in the movies. Hongjoong was standing on the road, the car's lights illuminating his face, some shadows lurking on it, making his features sharper, where some blood was flowing down from his temple. His red hair was damp I assumed from the rain, it was sticking to his forehead, some red wet drops flowing down his face that came from the red dye, mixing with his blood. He was wearing blue jeans that were ripped but not intentionally as his knees were bloody as well. On top, he was wearing a colorful shirt unbuttoned and a white T-shirt under it. I saw his bike which was lying on the ground crushed. It was a miracle it didn't catch on fire.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself as I stepped out of my car.

"What the hell happened Joong?" I walked towards him, as his expression told me nothing.

"The road was a little slippery from the rain and the police came after the race ended. I needed to get away from there quickly. And this happened." He pointed at his motorbike which was nothing like a few hours before.

"Oh my God Joong…" I ran my hands through my face frustrated, the sleepiness long gone from my eyes.

"Let's just get this shit away from here." He walked towards his bike in pieces, almost mourning his beloved bike.

Then we somehow managed to lift the bike to the trailer, collecting the broken pieces from the ground, and with that I drove back to our car service with Hongjoong sitting on the passenger seat.

“Did you at least win the race?” I broke the deafening silence in the car as I looked at the road ahead.

“Of course I did.” He leaned back against the headboard and looked out the window looking sad.  

When I parked in the garage, it was already 5 in the morning. Hongjoong sighed as we both stepped out of the car and he sat on the old couch that was pushed against the wall, serving perfectly when we needed a little break from work. I closed the garage door and sat next to him, my head on the back of the couch as I closed my eyes with a sigh.

"Don't tell anything to your brother, please." I heard Hongjoong's tired voice from my side. "He is going to fucking kill me."

"I bet," I said with my eyes still closed. Then silence and I opened my eyes to look at Hongjoong whose eyes were already on me. His eyes were sharp and looked at me a little angry.

"Okay, I won't tell him anything." I lifted my hands giving up. "But what about the bike?"

He sighed as he leaned forward supporting his head on his arms. "I have no fucking idea." He buried his face into his hands, he seemed a little panicked. I just looked at his figure that seemed lost and little now, and there it was again. The feeling I hated so much. I just wanted to help him again, and I truly hated this feeling.

"I can't believe myself," I mumbled to myself as I sighed. Hongjoong looked up at me with a confused look. "Jongho is coming back tomorrow night…I guess we can fix that shit until he arrives."

I had never seen Hongjoong this surprised as his eyebrows disappeared from how high they were. "Seriously?"

"Yes, but I'm gonna need your help too."

He set up straight as he turned towards me on the couch. "I'm here, whatever you need, princess." He smirked as he leaned closer to me. I rolled my eyes and stood up waking to a cabinet where we held the first-aid kit.

"But first put yourself together, because you look like shit." I threw the box towards him and he caught it immediately, looking down at it with a frown as he opened it. He looked up at me with child-like eyes. Then I looked at him with my eyebrows furrowed.

"You are seriously like a child," I stated as I sat next to him growing more annoyed as he just didn't know what to do with the thing, I just gave him.

Kim Hongjoong then pouted—I say it again pouted at me—as I grabbed the box from his hands and took the cotton from it with the alcoholic liquid—at least this is going to hurt. His face was full of blood strings that flew from the wound on his temple, his lips were also cut somehow just like his right cheek. I reached the cotton with the liquid towards his temple, where a serious-looking wound was. "Did you drive without your helmet or how did you manage to do this?" He hissed when the cotton touched his temple.

"Nah, the visor of my helmet broke when I crashed and it cut me. I didn't even notice…" He mumbled as he grabbed my wrist, trying to prevent me from touching the cotton to his skin again.

"Stop, it's going to infect you if you won't let me do it," I stated as Hongjoong was looking at my concentrating face from close. Then his lips were the next, the bottom of it cut as the blood was already dry. He parted his thin lips when I traced the cotton slowly on his lips. He hissed at that again but grabbed my waist squeezing it as the liquid stung his lip. I looked up into his eyes and I saw something unusual of Hongjoong. It was something like caring and something I couldn't recognize. I couldn’t read much into it, because he came back to his senses and let my waist as he took the cotton from my hand and started to trace the cotton on his face looking at the little mirror from the box. I was stunned for a moment; I couldn’t process what just happened but I just let it go. It was Kim Hongjoong after all, and he made my next day miserable.

We didn't even sleep as we worked from there, trying to put the puzzles of the motorbike together. It seemed like a mission impossible; the bike was almost a dead duck. But there wasn't something I couldn’t fix, at least if it came to fixing machines. Fixing my problems, however, was beyond my capability. Just as the next problem came in line. We managed to put the pieces of the bike together somehow, working on it without stopping, only when we were too hungry to even lift something. But the engine was completely gone. And it needed a replacement. Was there anywhere you could find a brand-new engine in just a few hours? 

Sadly, there was. And it was my ex-boyfriend's workshop, where he sold parts of motorbikes and cars. He was my only way of finding a new engine in a few hours, for this specific motorbike and it sounded like the worst of my nightmares. Asking for a favor from my ex whom I broke up with six months ago was shit. I didn’t want to do it, but it was already midday and Jongho was coming back at night.

My ex-boyfriend was Choi San. We were in a happy relationship, we really did. I thought we were going to be together for good. I already imagined my life with him, marrying him and having kids. I loved him, truly. But six months ago, it turned out he cheated on me. And it hurt. It broke me, I didn't even recognize myself back then. My worst nightmare came to life, which was not knowing San by my side anymore. He was the pillar I needed in my life to keep going. But when that pillar collapses into ashes, what was the reason to keep going with life?

I even considered letting it go and just forgetting about what happened and letting San come back to me because I didn't want him out of my life. But my brother was by my side the whole time and helped me through it, he hit some sanity into me—not literally—and talked me off of going back to him. San was Jongho's best friend. It was difficult for him too, having to choose between us, but he chose me. I knew Jongho was hurt by losing a friend, especially since he had warned me from the start that he didn't want to be forced to pick sides if we ever fought. In the end, he had to, and I felt guilty about it. I never imagined that San and I might break up one day. 

He didn't even have a normal explanation. He just said it happened he was drunk and he can't go back in time to undo it. It was so disappointing hearing those words from him and more heartbreaking when I broke up with him but still loved him. It was already six months ago but I couldn't state that I didn't love him anymore. So, this was the reason it was hard for me to call him. But it needed to be done.

"It's Choi San's workshop, what can I do for you?" I heard his voice and I hoped it wouldn't make me feel anything, but it certainly made my heart beat faster. I was leaning against the receptionist's table in the garage, and Hongjoong sitting on the couch as he was smoking a cigarette.

"Hey, San. I'm Y/N. I need a favor from you." I said to the phone without any emotions.

"Oh, Y/N, hi. It's a surprise hearing from you." His voice was low and sweet like the San I knew from the beginning. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, I just need a favor it's important."

"Okay…what can I help you with?"

"I need a Honda CBR engine as soon as possible," I stated.

"How much is as soon as possible?"

"Like…right now?"

"Mhmm…" He hummed at that. "I don't know babe, what are you going to give me in exchange?"

My heart was beating faster as I grew angrier. "Money? What else could I give you San? Please don't make it harder, I just want to do business with you nothing else."

I saw as Hongjoong snapped his head up as he was still smoking his cigarette. I just averted my gaze from him as I rolled my eyes.

"Okay, okay relax babe. I'mma need at least an hour to bring it to you." San said through the phone as I ignored him calling me like that on purpose, I just wanted to get over it as soon as possible but I felt a little scared because of seeing him again after a long time.

"Thank you," I said before ending the call abruptly.

"The new engine is gonna be here in an hour. I think we can fix it until Jongho arrives." I said looking at Hongjoong a little frustrated from the call.

Hongjoong just nodded and he just stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, but I saw on his face something was bothering him.

One hour later as promised San came into the garage with the engine on his blue truck. "It's good to see you, Y/N." He welcomed me sweetly as he walked to the rear of the car and opened the door so we could lift the engine off. I hated seeing him but it made my stomach twist without me wanting it. He hadn't really changed since I last saw him, his hair was still black, his muscles were still pumped, and he was wearing a black sleeveless top paired with beige oversized pants and his working black gloves. He was the same yet, everything changed between us.

Hongjoong helped him lift the engine out of the car, and together they carried it into the garage. As they stood next to the bike, Hongjoong and San made small talk about what had happened to it. They knew each other well—we were all part of the same friend group—but San had stopped showing up when we invited him, for obvious reasons. Hongjoong was the only one who still kept in touch with him. Watching them chat, I couldn’t help but think, What the hell? We don’t have time for chit-chat. 

"Okay, we don't have time for chatting, thank you San I'm going to send you the money." I stood in front of them folding my arms as they both looked at me surprised, I was there.

"Chill, babe I was just curious about what happened to Hongjoong." San walked closer to me and placed his hands on my waist, leaving a sweet kiss on my cheeks. I hated him so much; I could've punched him in the face. "You look good, Y/N, I hope to see you again." He whispered into my ears as goosebumps ran through my body, but it was because of the disgust I felt towards him. Yet, I couldn't do anything just stand there and let him kiss me and brush my cheeks after. I wanted to throw up. Then for my luck, he disappeared after shaking hands with Hongjoong.

I was just standing there a little stunned. I hated myself for letting him crawl into my head again. I hated him for behaving like nothing bad happened between us. And I hated Hongjoong for witnessing all of that.

"Is he still bothering you?" Hongjoong asked sheepishly as he looked at me.

"It's none of your business, yeah? Let's finish this up, 'cause I'm tired." I started without any emotions. Hongjoong was the last person I wanted to talk to about my feelings towards San. Everyone knew the story of ours, but the details were a mystery for everyone. He had secrets. So, did I.

With that, we worked all day to somehow put that engine in its place, without saying any words to each other, because I just wanted to finish this and be alone a little. I started to feel overwhelmed and the only solution for this was being alone on my own and somehow organizing my thoughts, or letting them drown me. It was whatever.

Then we finally finished and I collapsed on the couch when we heard the bike's engine fire alive. I was kind of proud of myself, I never really fixed motorbikes, my knowledge stopped at cars but I assumed they were similar so I had no problem in doing it.

"Thank you so much Y/N," Hongjoong said as he was sitting on his bike the helmet on already, a few strings of his red hair falling onto his forehead. "I really own you one…or two. I'mma pay you back I promise." He said as he closed the visor on his helmet. I just couldn’t say anything as I just watched him rolling out of the garage, the sound of the bike hearable even when he was long gone. The tiredness hit me at that moment as I was barely capable of going upstairs after closing the garage and collapsed into my soft bed like somebody just knocked me out.

Jongho returned and I was so glad to know him by my side again. Managing Limitless without him was tough but I knew I would do it again if it meant him resting a little. And I thought it was time for a little partying for myself as well after this tiring week. My best friend called me and told me her boyfriend, Seonghwa was holding a party at his house, as the end of summer was near. So, I accepted the invitation gladly because I really needed a break from everything.

I quickly got ready for the party, dressed up in my black leather jacket a white top under it, with a black skirt and black boots, along with some silver accessories and I made a black eyeshadow as makeup. I was quite satisfied with my appearance when I heard a honk coming from my best friend's car, as he said she was going to pick me up so I could drink.

When we arrived at Seonghwa's house, it was already full of people that I knew from college or from Limitless as the majority of the city came to us to repair their machines. It was great for our finances, which we definitely needed. We were heading straight to the drinks as we walked through the people somehow the music throbbing loudly in my heart, almost deafening. The living room was lit with different colors, making the dancing people disappear into the mixture of colors.

After pouring some drinks for ourselves we walked back to the backyard, where our friends were sitting. They were sitting next to a table with only a few seats available. Everyone was there, my brother, and his girlfriend who was sitting next to him leaning on his shoulder. Seonghwa, my best friend's boyfriend as she sat straight into his lap without thinking. And there was Wooyoung, my other best friend who was a goofy person, we always bickered or made fun of the others together. Then there was Mingi and Yunho, the boyfriends as they had been together for almost five years. I always envied their relationship because it was so honest and just looking at them made my heart beat with happiness. They beamed happiness all the time. And there was Hongjoong, wearing his usual biker jacket, his red hair now pulled back a few strings on his forehead only. Our eyes met and I quickly averted my eyes off him as I sat next to Wooyoung hugging him comfortably.

We haven’t met with Hongjoong since I fixed his bike, he just sent me the money for the service and the engine and that was all. I wondered if he told Jongho what happened.

Then lastly San was the only one who was missing from our friend circle and yes it was my fault, I did feel guilty, but it wasn't only my fault. He played a part in it as well, everyone started to hate him after what he did with me. They wanted to apologize to San, and they waited for an apology from him as well, but he simply never showed up when they invited him and slowly, they just let him go.

As the night got deeper and chillier, a lot of drinks came to our table as well, and we just chatted with the others, not bothering to dance inside. The host was with us the whole time as well, not even caring what was happening inside his house. It was a habit of ours as we went to house parties. We just needed a table to sit at and a few drinks and the night was gone with us having fun and bickering around. The alcohol slowly started to get up into my mind and I started to feel a little drunk, but it was a good drunk. I just felt happy being around my friends.

When we got bored of sitting in one place everyone seemed to disappear. The couples needed their own time as well—disgusting—and I found myself on the backyard bench alone as I looked up at the sky, where the moon was shining back at me in its full form in a shade of light blue. It was mesmerizing, I could look up at it for hours as I sipped from my drink occasionally, my legs pulled up to my chest. I didn't even notice how much time passed by as I was wandering around my thoughts when someone sat next to me. I looked to my side when I saw Hongjoong sitting next to me, the last person I was thinking about. Then I just ignored him and sipped from my drink looking up at the sky again. His gaze followed mine.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight." He started looking up at the sky.

"I know," I mumbled a little annoyed.

Then he didn't say anything and just pulled out his cigarette from his pocket and lit one up. He reached the pack towards me offering me one as I shook my head. He just shrugged and pocketed the rest of the cigarettes with the lighter. He leaned back on the bench and sighed as I looked at him, his eyes were closed facing the sky. The moon lit up his features, the shadows lurking on his face, making it look more intimidating, sharper. His eyelashes touched his face, the cigarette between his thin lips as he inhaled it, then exhaled it and it into the chilly air, as it flew up towards the blue moon.

"What are you doing here by yourself?" He broke the silence as he opened his eyes and met mine that were already on him. I quickly narrowed my gaze away from him as I got caught.

I just shrugged. "Drinking, thinking about life."

"What are you drinking?" He asked taking the alcohol from my hands as he sipped from it without my permission. He squinted at the taste of it as I watched him struggle. "Ew, how can you drink this?" He handed back the glass.

"It's like water for me, dude," I said sipping from it again.

I saw as he furrowed his brows. "Dude?" He gasped as he acted surprised his hands on his heart.

"So, we are friends now?" He asked.

"No, dude, we are not."

"What a shame, you have no idea what you're missing out on," he said with a slight giggle. He seemed drunk too. 

"Trust me I do know." I looked at him with a knowing smile. "Is your bike working still?" I asked him curious.

"Yes, it's better than before. I won already a few races with it." He said proudly. It was obvious how passionate he was about his bike and racing.

 "Why do you race?” I asked suddenly.

"I fell in love with bikes a long time ago, and when I discovered racing, I just couldn’t stop. Also, I need the money too.” He said his gaze on his hands.

"Will you tell me why? Or it’s still not my business?” I looked at him tilting my head.

His gaze remained averted as he said sincerely, “My mom needs it. The company she worked for let her go due to having too many employees. I want to support her until she finds a new job."

"That's really kind of you," I said sincerely. I would never have guessed that he needed the money for such reasons, rather than trouble with the law or something like that.

He just nodded as a comfortable silence fell on us. That I would've never imagined besides Kim Hongjoong.

"Do you want to shotgun?" He broke the silence again as I looked at him frowning. He seemed serious with his unserious question.

"Yeah, why not?" I answered and it surprised the both of us. I was just drunk and I was curious how his lips felt against mine.

Hongjoong chuckled at that, not waiting for agreement as an answer. He studied me thoughtfully, as if unsure whether I was serious. "Are you scared or something?" I teased, raising my eyebrows. 

"Not at all." Then I watched as he reached the cigarette between his fingers to his lips that slightly parted and inhaled the toxic smoke deeply, as it went straight into his lungs. Then he quickly leaned forward and cupped one side of my face under my jaw as his lips were almost touching mine. My heart rate was as high as the sky as I looked straight into his eyes when the smoke came out from his lips as he exhaled it straight into my parted mouth, his lips brushing against mine slightly.

At that moment I felt like my heart might just stop. Might just say “Hello I'm moving out because I can't handle this guy.” Something was weird in my chest, something that I couldn't name, couldn't compare. The smoke was long gone as I inhaled it deeply into my lungs as it disappeared there. But Hongjoong did not pull away and neither did I. We were just frozen as we were still looking into each other's eyes like we were locked there into a framed picture. Then Hongjoong's eyes narrowed from my eyes to my still parted lips as I breathed out, a barely visible smoke coming out. I saw in his eyes he was thinking about his next move a lot as he tried to close the distance between our lips and I just couldn't insist. Just until this weird bubble of ours exploded.

"Hongjoong." I heard a familiar voice coming from Hongjoong's side. It was my brother and I just wanted to dig myself deep into the soil. I wanted to be anywhere but there at that moment. Jongho approached us with a smile, his focus solely on Hongjoong. "Oh, you're not alone—sorry for interrupting," he said, lifting his hands in a gesture of apology. But as he took in the scene, he noticed me sitting next to Hongjoong. His expression shifted as he recognized me, his sister who had already played this game with him. I felt ashamed. Embarrassed. Jongho's smile just vanished, like it was never there. "You've got to be kidding me." He scoffed and then turned away from us walking towards the house madly.

"Fuck," I said standing up from the bench, where a frustrated Hongjoong was still sitting like he didn't know what to do.

"Go tell him that there's nothing between us and nothing ever will be," Hongjoong said his voice going quiet at the end. I won't say it didn't hurt. It did, but it was nothing compared to what I felt because of Jongho. Because he was disappointed in me again. My plan was not to make his life harder than it is. But I always failed and failed.

I chased after him, stumbling through a sea of unfamiliar and familiar faces, desperately trying to locate Jongho in the crowd. I felt like I was in a dark and all-the-time-changing maze. Then I went out the front door and I just saw Jongho heading towards his car.

"Jongho!" I screamed his name to stop. He did not stop.

"Jongho, please hear me out! It's not what it looks like!" I shouted after him, my voice breaking slightly.

Then he stopped in his tracks and turned around to face me with a furious expression his brows furrowed. "Don't tell me it's nothing when you just can't do other things than fucking with my best friends. So, when they are going to break your heart, I have to fucking choose between you or them. I'm sick. I'm sick of your games, Y/N.

I thought after San you learned your lesson, but I guess you are just into this shit of getting together with my best friends so in the end they are going to fucking disappear from my life for good after breaking your heart. I had enough of this shit. I won't repeat this scenario again…" Meanwhile, he spoke I was just frozen in place as tears rolled down my cheeks. I wanted to say a lot of things to him, to scream at him, Hongjoong meant nothing to me. But words just couldn't leave my mouth they were stuck in there, almost not letting me breathe.

"There's…there's nothing between Hongjoong and I, Jongho. I swear to God there's nothing." My voice came out weak as I somehow managed to let those words out that hurt like hell but history simply just couldn’t repeat itself.

He just looked at me like he couldn't believe me anymore but seemed like he accepted it for now. "Let's just go home." He sighed as he said.

I just nodded and sat in the back seat of his car as Jongho went back to get his girlfriend as well. The way home was silent as the only noise was the night radio that was playing some romantic melodies and my eyes averted in front where Jongho was holding his girlfriend's hands on the gear stick as they looked at each other sweetly for a moment. A few tears just flew down my cheeks because I thought I was never going to experience love that is not only one-sided. Love that is on the same level as mine. A partner in crime who calms you down in this cruel world. Love, love, love. I couldn't believe in experiencing true love for the rest of my life. I just simply gave up and signed up for the dark side.

            Since that night, Jongho's behavior wasn’t the same. He was cold and barely talked to me. I couldn't blame him, because I truly deserved the silent treatment. Hongjoong did the same. He hadn't even come to Limitless since then and pretended like he wasn't about to kiss me that night. It was shit and I just wanted to forget it. Everything was good a few weeks ago. But Hongjoong needed to appear at my door to help him, then I needed to call my ex-boyfriend.

It seemed he took it as a sign that I might let him back. Because he was constantly annoying me, calling me at night drunk and telling me he was still loving me and shit. If he would've said this four months ago, I would've let him come back to me without any thought. But now it was different and I didn't even want to hear from him. Yes, I was scared a few weeks ago when I called him, because I was terrified, I might feel something for him still. I have to admit perhaps a part of me will always love him, it's the curse of a first love. But talking to him and even meeting with him, kind of led me to the conclusion that I was ready to let him go for good. It was for the better.

I was in the garage, sweeping the dusty concrete floor, ready to close Limitless for the night, when I heard a car's engine sound that stopped, then a knock on the garage door. I sighed again as I was the only one home for the night. I opened the door and I saw Choi San standing in the door with a flower bucket in his hands.

"San?" I was so confused, what the hell did he want from me?

"Hey, babe, brought you some flowers." He said casually leaving the flowers in my hands, as he stepped closer to me pecking my cheeks and letting himself inside. I was just too stunned by his actions; I scoffed in disbelief turning towards him where he plopped down on the couch.

"San what are you doing?"

"I came to see you. Is that a problem?" He asked like there wasn't a single problem with it.

"Yes! It is, what the hell are you thinking right now? I called you to do me a favor and now we are back together? Are you delusional?" I asked him getting more and more angry as I threw the flowers from my hands at the floor.

He looked down at the flowers and he seemed hurt at that. He stood up and started to walk slowly towards me. His expression changed entirely; it became serious like no one was allowed to speak to him like that. "I know you still love me, Y/N." His fingertips traced through my cheeks, looking almost psychotically at me.

"No, I don't love you anymore! Just get the fuck out of here I don't want to see you San!" My voice raised as I pointed towards the door putting a little distance between us.

He tilted his head to the side still looking at me. He looked like a tiger that was going to hunt you down in a blink of an eye. He started to step closer to me as I stepped back. We played this game until I was pushed against the wall, his broad figure hovering over me. That was the moment I felt terrified. I was caged in between his arms; I had no way out of there.

"Stop lying to yourself and come back to me, babe." His fingertips were tracing down my neck, then up to my lips, my cheeks, like I was an art in a museum and I was allowed to be touched. My body started to tremble.

"San, please just go away!" I sounded desperate like I would've done anything for him to leave.

"What if I don’t want to, my love?" He smiled at me with an evil smile I just couldn't think anymore.

"Get your hands off her, San!" A familiar voice came from behind San when all I saw was him being dragged away from me, as I finally was able to breathe. I saw Hongjoong's figure as he held San by the collar of his shirt. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Hongjoong hissed through his teeth.

"It's none of your fucking business, Hongjoong. What? Did you two fuck? Does Jongho know?" San sneered his only intent to provoke. The words struck a nerve in Hongjoong, and before I knew it, he landed a punch squarely on San's face, nearly knocking him to the ground.

"Fuck you, San. You're a fucking nobody. Why can't you just leave Y/N alone? Hasn't she suffered enough because of you?" Hongjoong spat, pointing at me as if I were just an object, devoid of emotions. But his words hit home, and I was taken aback by how much he seemed to understand my feelings. 

San just spat blood on the floor as he lurked forward and sent Hongjoong to the floor and he started to punch him. But Hongjoong was quick and prevented San from hitting him more in the face and quickly turned them around, so now Hongjoong was on top, hitting San in the face with his full power. "You fucking bastard, Jongho trusted you but you betrayed him. What is wrong with you? I don't recognize you anymore." Hongjoong mumbled in between hitting San, then he just held down San's arms strongly and looked down at him with a furious expression. Then San taking advantage of this, tried to hit Hongjoong again, but he dodged quickly.

"You guys left me alone, I knew I wasn't welcomed there, so I didn't go." San gritted through his bloody teeth as he dodged one of Hongjoong's hits.

 I knew the fight wasn't just about me. They were friends as well, but San became so arrogant everyone started to leave him.

Along the way, everything happened so quickly I couldn't react in time. When I realized what was happening, I went next to them and yelled as much as I could. "Stop fighting for fuck's sake!" I pleaded. "Please, Hongjoong…" My voice became softer as I placed a hand on his shoulder. His fist hung in the air, but he froze, glancing up at me. The skin around his left eye was already reddening, a cut had opened on his right brow, and blood began to trickle down, matching the wound on his lower lip. I just couldn’t look at San's face because I knew he was covered in blood just like Hongjoong's fist that was full of San's blood.

Hongjoong stood up and lifted San. "Get the fuck out of here and I don't want to hear from you again!" Hongjoong stated to his once best friend as San just left without any words, but I saw in his face a burning desire for revenge in his eyes. And I knew it wasn't the last time we saw him.

"Are you okay?" Hongjoong then suddenly cupped my face, his sweet scent embracing me. My body was still shaking, I just couldn't believe that was the man I loved so deeply. San showed a new side of him and I just couldn't recognize him anymore.

I breathed out slowly as I closed my eyes for a second, taking in the warmth of Hongjoong's hands. "Yeah…" I whispered as I held his hands to push him away. I walked to the closet again, like we were at the beginning, and took the first aid kit. Hongjoong was just looking at me the whole time and when I signaled him to sit down on the couch, he obeyed without a word. He leaned down on the way to take his black cap from the ground that he lost between fighting with San, he wore the cap backward, pushing his red hair back from his forehead. He was wearing a black and white T-shirt with grey sweatpants and white sneakers. He sat down and I followed him as I opened the box. History repeats itself.

We were quiet the whole time as I traced the cotton with the liquid on his eyebrows as he just stared into my eyes the whole time not even hissing from the pain. Then I went down to his thin rosy lips the blood already dried.

"You always take such good care of me..." Hongjoong whispered, his gaze locked on mine, his red hair damp and clinging to his forehead.

"Because you need to be taken care of. You're like a child," I teased, a small smile forming on my lips as he pouted slightly in response. 

Then I looked down at his hands and lifted it between us as I traced the cotton on his bloody knuckles as well. The air between us was thick and the tension was growing higher and higher.      

Hongjoong looked down at our hands and without any thought he took the cotton from my hands, putting it down, then his hands traveled to my waist and lifted me to straddle his lap. My body felt hot and as I looked into his eyes, I felt woozy like I was drunk suddenly. I couldn't think clearly, my hands were on his shoulders and the eye contact was so deep I found myself in Hongjoong's mind and him in mine. Then I bit my lips because I felt so nervous I felt like it was the first time someone ever touched me. His eyes averted to my lips then his hands on my waist that pulled me closer to him left burning flames behind, making my body catch on fire from the sudden desire I felt. Then he leaned his forehead against mine as we both breathed heavily. Both our desires were blocked by an important reason. We both closed our eyes taking the other's presence in.

"We can't do this Joong," I whispered as my lips almost brushed his.

"I know," His lips were even closer as he almost whispered it into my mouth.

We breathed heavily against each other's lips, our chests moving in synchrony, our eyes taking in the other as we both saw the burning desire in each other's eyes. I fought so hard against this feeling, and so did Hongjoong. But…

"Fuck it!" He said as his lips crashed against mine suddenly and the air from my lungs was suddenly knocked out as I started to move my lips against his. It was rushed, harsh, teeth and tongue tangling with each other, as his hands traveled down my thighs, tracing them slowly as they went back to my ass, as he pushed me closer to himself.

My breath caught in my throat as he groaned, sinking his teeth into my already bruised lips from the rough kisses. My sanity just left my body and I gave in to the desire I felt towards him. But then…something hit me in the gut a feeling that was called guilt. And I pushed Hongjoong away my hands on his chest.

"Let's stop, please. I can't do this." Suddenly my eyes watered from the emotions that were bombarding my already breaking walls. I knew I wanted him, but I just couldn’t. The thought of seeing the disappointment in Jongho's eyes again held me back.

"Y/N…" He whispered as he leaned his head against mine.

"No, Hongjoong. I don't want to run through the same road once again…" I said as I stood up from his lap, it felt like I left a part of me with him.

He stood up too and took my hands into his. "I want you, Y/N. You have no idea how much..." His voice seemed desperate and honest.

"You were the one who told me to tell Jongho that there's nothing between us and never will be," I said, pulling my hands away from his. "And you were right—there is nothing, and there never will be. We both knew it; we just didn’t want to admit it." 

"Jongho would understand it." Hongjoong seemed hopeful, but I long lost my hope along the way.

"No, he wouldn't. He is just afraid he might lose another friend because of me. And he is right. It might be that just desire speaks from you…" I looked down at my hands, not daring to look into his sharp eyes that changed all of a sudden.

"How the hell do you know what I feel when I didn't even have the chance to tell you?" Hongjoong stepped closer to me and lifted my head holding my chin. "Look at me and tell me you don't feel anything towards me and I'm walking out of that door." He stated as my eyes locked with his. I wanted to cry so bad, he couldn't say that, he couldn't just tell me to choose between him and my brother. I just looked at him as my eyes watered.

"Or do you still love that fucker who hurt you?" His expression turned furious as his fingers around my chin tightened.

I simply couldn't say anything, I tried, I tried to say anything, to say no I hated San with my whole heart, and yes, I felt something whenever I looked at him. I felt my stomach twist and like my heart wanted to stop all the time. But I just couldn't say anything, I went silent as he read my eyes that probably didn't say the things that I wanted to tell him, because he scoffed, his eyes dark with fury as he looked into mine one last time. "You're a fucking coward." Then, he turned and slammed the door shut.

Those words pierced right into my heart, reopening the cracks that had just begun to heal. My heart shattered again into pieces of hopelessness because he was right. I was a coward.

I felt like I was a robot that was programmed to do some things. My feelings were long gone and I wasn't myself these past days. Jongho was still kind of ignoring me, we were working together but the communication was shallow between us. Hongjoong was in the garage a lot recently. It turned out he was working in the garage, helping for Jongho, so I didn't have to help that much. It seemed like they both wanted to close me out and it hurt. So much I couldn't even think. Hongjoong didn't even look at me whenever I was in the garage like I didn't even exist. So, I just let it go, I figured they didn't need me in their life as their friendship was so much more important than me. I accepted it, I let them be and I started to deal with my own problems. For example, studying. My dream was always to be a doctor after my mother died from a cruel disease. But as our father left us, Limitless was left for us to handle. So, I left my dreams behind and started to work in the garage. Working on cars is a lot like being a doctor. As a car mechanic, I diagnose and fix problems with vehicles, much like a doctor diagnosing and treating diseases. It's about diagnosing the issue, repairing the damage, and putting everything back together. 

I started to go to a class that trained nurses. I had to start somewhere and I liked it. Jongho didn't even know about it. I started to question his behavior. We didn't even speak with Hongjoong yet he still closed me out like I wasn't even his beloved sister.

Weeks later I had enough of Jongho ignoring me so I had to speak with him. I went downstairs on a Friday night when I saw Jongho and Hongjoong fixing a black Maserati, that was lifted to the air.

I approached them. "Jongho, can we talk?" He looked surprised by the voice coming from behind. He was wearing a blue overall, his chubby cheeks a little smashed with oil. Then I narrowed my eyes at Hongjoong who was wearing the same blue overall with a black T-shirt, his face full of black patches, the usual black cap on his head turned backward.

"Yeah, give me five minutes." His hands were behind the car's tire as he was searching for something behind.

I just nodded and sat on the couch to wait for him. I just wanted to tell him that to stop this childish behavior because I won't steal his best friend, and it was supposed to be clear for now.

As I was sitting on the couch lost in my thoughts, I felt as if someone had come into the garage. I lifted my head and it was San. My heart started to beat fast as my body shivered remembering the last time I saw San. His face seemed normal; it didn't seem like he came to get some revenge because of what happened. His face screamed that he felt guilty about it.

"Y/N, can we talk?" He asked as he didn't even dare to come close to me.

Two heads peeped out under the car hearing the voice of someone. When Hongjoong saw who was it, he quickly swooped forward and pushed San against the wall grabbing the collar of his shirt. "How the fuck do you dare to come back here?" He hissed through his teeth his face close to San's.

"Fuck off you dog!" San pushed him away by the chest. Then I quickly slipped between them facing San.

"What do you want San?" My voice came out straightforward not even trembling for a second.

"I want to talk to you and apologize, please Y/N." His eyes were soft and he seemed desperate.

"What the hell is happening here?" Jongho's voice came from behind as he wiped his hands with a used cloth.

San's gaze locked with Jongho's. The once best friends were now at the same place and I felt like I shouldn't be there. "I just want to talk with Y/N, that's all," San said his voice low and determined as his gaze never left Jongho's.

"She’s not going with you!" Jongho stated firmly.

"That’s not up to you," San retorted flatly.

"She won’t go with you," Hongjoong’s voice cut in sharply.

"Stop talking like I'm not fucking here," I snapped, glaring at the three of them. "You all need to sort this out because you're acting like children. It's pathetic." I pointed at them, my frustration growing. "Let’s go, San!" I grabbed his hands and tugged him away.

"Y/N! Don't you fucking dare to go with him!" To my surprise, it was Hongjoong's voice. I stopped in my tracks at that.

"Or what? What are you going to do?" I looked at him questioningly. "Are you going to beat him again?" Jongho's brows furrowed at that.

Hongjoong looked speechless. "That is what I thought," Then I turned to leave him there with Jongho so he could explain what he did.

I sat in San's car and told him to take me away from there. I was just so mad at my brother, at Hongjoong, I couldn't even look at their faces anymore.

San took me to a random park, we didn't even have any connection with the place. He could've taken me to the place that was our favorite to go together, but he didn't. The reason was because we both sought closure and it needed a new place. So, we sat down on a bench and we talked about how we felt. He asked for an apology from me and I accepted it because there was no point in tiring the other out. We both needed to move on and this talk helped us go through it. It wasn't good when we broke up and it affected our friends too. I wanted San back in our friend group because he deserved to be there. And I knew the others wanted him to come back as well. Lastly, I hugged San and we both agreed on a distanced friendship. As I prepared to step out of his car, parked in front of Limitless, I noted that it was already late into the night. I suggested to San to talk with Jongho and even Hongjoong because their friendship needed fixing—these guys could fix any cars and bikes but they couldn't fix their friendship…

After talking with San, I headed upstairs, passing by a concerned Hongjoong who scanned me with his eyes, checking for any signs of injury. Then I encountered a furious Jongho, who I assumed was aware of the confrontation between San and Hongjoong. I chose to ignore both of them, closing the door behind me with a weary sigh. 

After speaking with San my head was a little clearer as I finally felt like I could think clearly and analyze the emotions I felt. My feelings towards San were deep but I could find the bottom of it, it was clear to me now that it had an ending. We just weren't meant to be and it had to happen like this. We can learn even from the heartbreaks; it makes us stronger and more experienced if we get into a new relationship.

Then Hongjoong came into my mind and I wanted to face the fact I did feel something for him, I couldn't deny that. It's hard to say but these emotions towards Hongjoong were deeper than what I felt for San, it almost felt endless, like it had no bottom. And I would've never imagined one day I'm going to say something like this.

But I might have fallen for Kim Hongjoong.

After what felt like an eternity, being drowned in my thoughts, I heard a low knock on my door as I was sitting in my bed and Jongho's head peeped into my room.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," He sat down on my bed and started to adjust the sheets carefully avoiding my eyes.

"Hongjoong told me some things…" He started. "Why didn't you tell me about San?" His brown eyes met mine.

"There was no point, Hongjoong was there at the right time, it happened and that's all. You ignored me anyway so…" I shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I was just so frustrated at the thought we have to go through the same road as half a month ago." His eyes were sincere and emotional.

"I get it, seriously. But after you saw we didn't even talk with Hongjoong you still ignored me. Why?"

He just shrugged. "I still thought something was happening behind my back…even though you didn't show it in front of me, I just felt it."

Guilt crept up my body. "Actually—" I wanted to tell him. No more secrets.

"I know. Hongjoong told me everything." He didn’t let me say anything.

My heart started to race I analyzed his face, searching for some signs of anger. But there was none. "Aren't you like…mad?"

He sighed as he ran his fingers through his brown hair. "No, I—Look I'm not mad, Y/N, I never was. I just wanted to protect you from another heartbreak. I just wanted to act like your big brother who protects you from anything…" He looked down at his hands, he looked so small like this.

"Jongho…" I reached for his hands and took it into mine. "I know you want to protect me; you really did our whole life and I am so grateful for that. But…you can't save me from the feelings I feel and the heartbreaks that are written for me. And I know that your friends are in this story and that is also a sensitive topic. But I didn't mean to fall in love with both of your best friends." Tears welled up in my eyes as this sentence sounded too deep and fragile. "I—I never said you had to choose between me and your friends and I would never ask you that. I would be glad if San would come back to our friend group like in the old days. It would be weird but it's not like I can't be in the same place with him.

"Okay, not anymore…but we talked and we are fine now. At least we can tolerate each other."

Jongho seemed like he was proud of me for being so collected.

"I'm going to talk with San, I promise," he said earnestly. "And about Hongjoong… I won’t get in your way. If you two have feelings for each other, then I shouldn’t stop you just because I’m afraid of losing you and my friends." Jongho spoke with a vulnerability that made his eyes well up, revealing his emotional struggle. 

"You won't lose us. We are always going to be by your side, this way or another but you can't get rid of us." I pulled him closer as I hugged him strongly.

"I would never want to. I love you!" Jongho whispered as the room slowly embraced in darkness.

"I love you too, and thank you!"

"You should talk to him."

"Where is he?" I asked.

"He has an important race and he was so stressed when he left. I didn't want to admit it but I think he needs you." Jongho said as his lips curved up a little as I stood up. I quickly walked towards my closet to get my black leather jacket as I was wearing black ripped jeans with a black top.

I hugged Jongho one last time before I stepped out of my room to run to my car and get to Hongjoong before he started the race.     

When I arrived at the location Jongho told me the race was going to be held, it was full of people. It was at the top of a huge parking lot in the heart of the city, where they could easily run speeding races. I was amused by how they held something illegal in this part of the city. We were late into the night already as the city lights were shining from up above. Colorful and upgraded cars were parked, and people looking at them like they were a work of art as I passed by them. Then there was a part where only motorbikes were and after parking my car, I walked towards it as I took my surroundings in. The music was beating through my heart as I walked past a car that had installed subwoofers. Everything was strange for me but I always wanted to come to races like these, it had a quite good atmosphere, and everyone seemed excited for the upcoming race.

I reached the motorbikes, there were a few types of bikes standing. They were so beautifully shaped and the colors highlighted its sharp features. I was searching for Hongjoong's red Honda in the eternity of bikes. I looked around, my eyes narrowing through the people who passed by me when someone grabbed my hand and pulled me along. I saw Hongjoong in front of me as he led us to a quieter place, which was the end of the parking lot.

He stopped and turned to face me. "What are you doing here?" He looked stressed like he didn't know where his head was. "You have to get away from here, it's dangerous here Y/N!" He snapped his head from the crowd back to me, looking like a maniac with his wide pupils and eyes nearly completely black. He wore ripped blue jeans and a leather jacket, his red hair disheveled from frequent, stressed attempts to comb it through.

"I came to watch you race and I wanted to talk to you." I stepped closer to him. I needed to calm him down.

He froze at that. "About what?"

"About us."

The crowd was cheering loudly when he said. "I have to go." He looked behind me at the crowd and then back at me like he didn't know what to do.

"Then go!" I nudged him.

He still wasn't himself as he just nodded his lips in a thin line. I stepped closer to him and looked up at him my eyes beaming sincerity. I brushed a red hair string away from his forehead as I whispered close to his lips. "Win this for me." Then I leaned closer to his face and left a sealing kiss on his parted lips. This seemed to bring back Hongjoong to the real world because his eyes were now full of sincere emotions and the burning desire that almost lit his eyes up.

"I will." Then he grabbed me by my waist and pulled me close to his body, his other hand cupping one side of my face as he crushed our lips into a quick chaste kiss, as he kissed me passionately telling me everything, he couldn't with it. Then he slightly pulled away leaving one little peck on my lips as he leaned his forehead against mine.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N…the things I said…" He whispered against my lips.

"Go, Hongjoong!" I chuckled and pushed him by his chest as he didn't want to release me.

"Okay," He left one last kiss on my mouth. "Wait for me, I have a race to win for my princess." He smiled at me, and there was the Hongjoong that finally didn't seem lost. He was full of life and that made my heart full with fuel that is never going to run out.

I stood beside the starting line, watching as Hongjoong pulled up on his dark red bike. His black helmet was on, but I could still feel his intense gaze piercing through it as he twisted the throttle, preparing to race against the competitor beside him. Then the guy in the middle counted back and all I saw was smoke that came from their tires. Whoever was faster won. It seemed like the guy was faster than Hongjoong at first and my heart was racing along with Hongjoong as I prayed for him to win this. Then it seemed this was all the guy could pull out from his bike because Hongjoong flew through the finish line in a blink of an eye.

 I saw as he stopped and bumped his fist into the air. I smiled he looked so cool from far away. As Hongjoong turned to come back to me on his bike, red and blue lights started to blind the people who were standing on the roof of a parking lot. The police were here.

I started to look around because I lost Hongjoong as the crowd started to run haphazardly panicking not to be caught by the police. Then a familiar bike pulled next to me and I felt relieved as Hongjoong offered his hand with a helmet. I saw his sharp eyes as he lifted the visor of his helmet, the red and blue lights dancing on his face.

"Come on, princess," He mumbled through his helmet. I accepted his inviting hand and took the helmet as I settled behind him on the bike. Hongjoong took my hand and pulled me close to his back as I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned my head on his shoulder. I smiled even though we probably needed to get away from there as soon as we could. But it was an adventure just as everything with Hongjoong. I knew if he was there with me, life just couldn't be boring.

Hongjoong rolled through the people carefully and when we managed to get out of the parking lot where I saw the police caught a few people, we finally speeded through the highway. The city lights faded into one thin line as we passed by the big buildings. I never felt this free, I suddenly understood why was Hongjoong so passionate about biking. It gave you the free will, the power to just disappear between the city lights. As we speeded through the highway, I raised one of my hands into the chilly air and chuckled. I just felt so happy the world just stopped for a moment and it was just only us; Hongjoong, the bike, and me. I looked up at the sky, where one side of it was black as the night and the other side was a shade of orange as the sun just started to rise. It was so beautiful.

When Hongjoong stopped at a parking lot as we passed some mountains and drove through some windings the view was more beautiful. Mesmerizing if I may say so. It's hard to describe something like this. We were in the middle of a mountain and at the edge of it all I could see were clouds. The city was covered in white clouds, the sky still painted bright yellow and orange, with a little hint of red that reminded me of Hongjoong's hair. It was like we were three meters above the sky.

We were still sitting on Hongjoong's bike both of us were just mesmerized by the view, only bothered to take off the helmet as we switched places and Hongjoong hugged me from behind, his head on top of mine as I leaned against his chest, his legs were balancing the both of us on the bike. We were sitting there in a comfortable silence as we took in the view in from of us, melting into each other’s presence. Hongjoong nudged me to get off the bike, helping me dismount before stepping off himself. He took my hands in his, lifting them to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on my knuckles. 

"Forgive me for being an asshole. I just—after our kiss…but to be honest way before that…I just couldn't get you out of my mind." He stated sincerely as his eyes sparkled with hope. "When I saw, what San was doing to you, I could have killed him right there. But even after everything, you still went with him yesterday. I'm not going to pretend it didn’t hurt, but I guess I deserved it..." He looked down at our hands, gently tracing my knuckles with his fingers.

"I needed closure, Joong. I couldn’t move on until everything with San was cleared up. That’s why I needed to talk with him. It’s done now." Hongjoong lifted his head, a sense of relief evident on his face. "And about Jongho…" 

"I talked with him, I told everything to him, about the fight with San, about our kiss afterward, that I have feelings for you, I told everything and he understood it." He seemed desperate, afraid of me stepping back again because of my brother.

"I talked with him too. He told me to go to your race because you needed me." I smiled sheepishly looking at our hands. Suddenly I felt as my cheeks started to blush.

 "He was right. My mind was a mess. I wasn’t sure if I could win this." He admitted.

"Did you like it?" He asked with a beaming smile, his perfect-white teeth showing. 

"Very much," I said feeling excited as I smiled. "But it was better riding with you through the city."

"Yeah?" He stepped closer to me as he hovered over me, his hands on my waist as he turned me to lean against his bike that was standing still. "Do you want to repeat it?" He asked as he leaned down his lips brushing slightly against mine.

"Definitely," I started looking up at him with sparkling eyes.

"Anything for my princess." His lips curled up as I rolled my eyes at the nickname, but I didn't have the time to complain as his lips were on mine in no time. It felt so good and so right. The passion I felt towards Hongjoong was beyond the universe. His lips moved against mine as I wrapped my hands around his neck, my fingers traveling up on his nape into his red strings as I brushed my fingers through it. He deepened the kiss by cupping one side of my face into his hand and lifting my head so he had better access. Sudden fireworks erupted in my chest, the burning desire igniting and exploding within my heart. Then his hands traveled down to my thighs as he traced his hands through them, then to the back of my thighs as he slowly lifted me to his bike so I was at the same height level as him. I wrapped my legs around his torso as his lips still moved against mine. I couldn't breathe anymore but I just couldn't stop because it was addicting kissing him, I felt like I never wanted to stop because if I did, I might disappear. It didn't feel real. He groaned lowly when his tongue got free access into my mouth, discovering every inch of my mouth. His hands were on my waist holding me still, afraid of falling off his bike. When he finally pulled away, after what felt like an eternity but still wasn’t long enough, he rested his forehead against mine and whispered. 

"Let me take care of you now. Let me give you what you deserve."             

(Ateez masterlist)

[misseviehyde]

SHADOWS

My ex-boyfriend James is sooooo fucking weak and pathetic. I hate and despise him with every part of my soul. He is everything that is wrong with men these days. Indecisive, overly sensitive, small and pathetic. What a fucking loser.

His twin brother Jason by comparison is a God. He is the man I now desire. Once I despised and hated Jason, but now he is everything I seek in a man. Tall, strong, rich, dominant... he makes me so fucking wet. My new boyfriend is a total Alpha. The longer I stay around him the more feminine I feel. I love what he does to me.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me explain how this all started...

Once I was the nerdiest girl at school. It seems insane to say it now, given how popular I am, but there was a time when I couldn't name six fashion designers or contour my makeup or suck off three boys at once in the cheerleaders locker room. I was a fucking loser.

Terrible skin, flat chested, nerdy glasses and goofy teeth. No. I was once plain little Melanie. I even had ginger hair. No wonder everyone bullied me. Popular rich bitch Madison didn't even exist. I was a fucking nobody.

My life consisted of science fairs, anime and role-playing games. Not the fun role playing games where you dress as a sexy school girl and get railed by a hot guy... no... the loser ones where you pretend to be an elf.

To my shame I was even into LARPIng. Live action role play. Each Friday night, me, James, Jason and our other buddies would go into the local woods to play.

We would run around the woods pretending to be on adventures. Fuckkkk it was so pathetic, I feel a major ick just thinking about it.

Jason wasn't the God he would later become at this point. He and James basically looked the same. I don't know why I had chosen James as my boyfriend. I guess he was slightly more confident and had asked me out first. He and Jason basically looked and acted the same though. Many people couldn't even tell them apart. Even me sometimes.

Then Jason found the shadow and everything changed.

As part of our role playing experience we sometimes brought props along and Jason had found this creepy looking glass bottle in a charity shop. It was opaque and stoppered with a wax cork. Perhaps it held a liquid of some kind? Sometimes it looked like there was something dark swirling inside, but it was kind of hard to tell.

We needed a prop to represent an evil demon that was trapped in a bottle so Jason had brought out the bottle.

As usual the group had split up. It was dark now and I was on my own. I had on my favourite druid costume (ughhh so fucking fugly) and I was creeping through the woods under the moonlight.

Suddenly I saw Jason through a gap in the trees. He was on his own too and carrying the bottle. I headed towards him, he hadn't seen me... in fact he wasn't really paying proper attention to his surroundings, which is maybe why he suddenly tripped over a tree root.

The bottle span from his hands and smashed against the ground with a musical tinkle.

I had a perfect view of everything. Jason was lit by the moonlight, his scrawny body shivering and his eyes wide with fear as a rolling mass of black shadows erupted from the smashed bottle and flowed towards him.

I wanted to scream but my voice had left me and I could only put my hands to my mouth like a parody of some dumb anime girl as the shadows flowed into Jason. Black smoke forced its way down his throat, into his nose. It wrapped and enveloped him, melting and merging into his body.

Then it was gone.

But the scene was not over.

Jason let out a cry, or maybe it was a moan. I watched in horrified fascination (and now I'm happy to admit a little bit or arousal) as I watched him change. Jason... my God... was being born.

Muscles rippled and swelled under his skin, causing his shirt to rip and his fantasy style breeches to bulge. He tore his top off to reveal a rippling six back and toned muscles as his skin flowed like wax and he changed and transformed. He grew taller and bigger, more handsome too as his face became more masculine and his hair cut more stylish.

Grunting and grinning Jason ripped off his pathetic role playing costume and stretched confidently. He was entirely naked now and I gasped in arousal as I saw his magnificent ass and his perfect cock. As I watched it was growing. Ten inches of thick white meat now hung between his huge thighs and I almost salivated as I beheld his perfect manly body.

Jason confidently stretched his body, clearly enjoying how it felt. He grinned perfect white teeth and his eyes, once mild and nerdy shone with ambition and dark desire. He clicked his fingers and there was a wisp of smoke as a stylish black shirt and designer jeans encased his new perfect body. He now looked like a male super model and he strode off through the woods chuckling, leaving me breathing heavily and wondering if I was losing my mind.

***

I ran through the woods. Back then I was ungainly and lacking athletic ability. Whereas now I hit the gym daily and can bend into nearly any position (especially when fucking) I was a fucking loser, so I made quite the noise as I crashed through the trees.

James and the others soon found me and I garbled what I'd seen, but they all thought I was still role playing.

"Babe, it's a cool story, but one detail that doesn't work. My stuck up bullying brother doesn't play with us. He thinks we're losers."

I gawped at James. I thought he was joking at first, but as we spoke it became clear he was serious. The shadow had changed Jason, but it also seemed to have changed everyone's memories of him.

I had no idea why I hadn't been affected. perhaps because I had witnessed his transformation directly or something.

James and the others couldn't understand why I was so upset and worried. The shadow had looked evil and I was worried my boyfriends brother was now under the control of something wicked. I decided I'd have to confront Jason directly and see if I could aid him, so I told the others I felt sick and left to go immediately to James and Jason's house.

James started after me, but I quickly lost him in the woods. I didn't want him to see what had happened to his brother. I was sure I could find a way to save Jason.

Haha, what a fucking idealistic moron I used to be.

***

I arrived at Jason's to find the house had changed. There was now a pickup parked at the front and the house was larger and clearly more expensive. Entering the house I found it was better decorated and I nearly had a heart attack as I entered the kitchen to find Jame's Mom and Dad.

Michael, the Dad was now a handsome looking business man wearing an expensive suit. Linda, James Mom had transformed from a homesy kind Mom into a haughty and beautiful MILF. She looked stunning!

Neither of them paid me much attention, they clearly recognised me as James girlfriend. The sneer and look of disgust Linda gave me left me cold. I can't blame her. Linda is now a major icon to me and we are the BEST of friends. She loves me like a daughter and I've learned so much about manipulating and using men from her. But back then I was a dork dating her loser son James.

But that was soon about to change.

I found Jason in a room I'd never seen before. A personal gym.

He was stripped to the waist, his muscles rippling as he pumped iron. He turned and grinned at me as I entered.

"Well well well. My brothers dork girlfriend? What the hell do you want Melanie?"

"I saw everything Jason. I saw that weird shadow enter you. We have to get it out of you. What have you done to your Mom and Dad? This isn't right."

Jason grinned. "Ahhhh. So you saw it? So you remember the old me? Haha you have no idea Melanie. No idea how good this feels. The shadow within me hungers for power and pleasure. It serves no other purpose but to give me what I want. It can change things, people too. Anything that falls under my shadow can be twisted to serve my whim. I am a fucking God now."

I watched nervously as black shadows seemed to spread around Jason as he spoke. The air rippled with potential and a cold numb feeling spread through my body and my soul. Jason grinned as the light seemed to be sucked out of the room and I was drowning in darkness.

"You could be so much more Melanie. You're such a fucking dork, just like my pathetic brother. I always wanted you to be MY girlfriend and now I have this power you can join me. I won't force you, I want you to join me willingly. A taste of this power and I think you'll want more."

I gasped falling to my knees as the shadows surrounded me. All the warmth and kindness and love inside me was suddenly numbed. It was like the shadow was feeding on my positive emotions... perhaps it was.

The dark shadows enveloped and wrapped my nerdy body. Tempting whispers invaded my mind and I felt Jason's presence beating down on me and willing me to give in. The shadow wanted to change and corrupt me, but it would only do so if I wanted it to. Jason hadn't lied.

I don't know if you've ever been offered something so fucking delicious and perfect that even if it came at the cost of your soul you'd jump at the chance... but when that moment finally arrives, it's pretty hard not to succumb.

I'd seen what the shadow had done to Jason. It had turned him into the perfect example of masculine perfection. It could probably do the same for me, but make me the ultimate girl. All I had to do was let it in and surrender to the darkness.

I'd seen girls in magazines, on TV, on teenage drama programs. I'd always wondered how it would feel to be a Queen Bee... a head cheerleader type. What must it be like to be so pretty you can get whatever you want? How would it feel to be a bitch?

"Yes... change me," I groaned. "But only a little... I just want to be a little prettier."

I gasped as my body suddenly ached and I felt the shadows begin to change me. I ripped my dorky glasses off and felt my brace snap as I spat out the metal to leave perfect white teeth. My red hair turned a sexy black and my pale spotty skin tanned as my body toned.

It felt so fucking good.

"Don't you want more Melanie? Don't you want to become a real fucking bitch? If it feels this good to go a little of the way, why not let the shadows take you all the way?"

Jason had a point. The more I transformed the more I wanted to transform. As I felt myself become more popular and beautiful, the further I found I wanted to go.

"Yessss mmmmore," I gasped feeling the shadows pour down my throat and into my body. I could feel Jason in my mind now, his fingers manipulating my pleasure receptors and his thoughts becoming my own.

"That's right Melanie. You don't want to be a dweeb anymore. You want to go all the way. You want to be a fucking bitch. Say it."

I shuddered as delicious throbs of pleasure pulsed through my body. "I... mmmmmh, ohhh yes, I want to be a bitch."

"That's right Melanie. Let's picture a girl. Let's call her Madison. She's everything you want to be isn't she? Thin, pretty, bratty and spoiled. She's the kind of girl that has a new outfit every day, that all the other girls bow down to. I want you imagine how hot she looks. Nice tits, a toned body, ultra-feminine body language. So different to the dork you are. Are you picturing her?"

I was picturing her. I was thinking of every mean bad girl and bitch I had ever know in real life or in the movies. I was picturing Madison and boy was she fucking hot.

"Now say it. Say you want to be Madison. You want to be the bullying popular Alpha girl."

My pussy was wet, my already partially transformed body felt so good. I needed more... I needed the shadows to corrupt me completely.

"Yessss I want to be Madison."

I screamed and orgasmed as I said it, feeling the shadows flowing into me and destroying Melanie forever. All the kind gentle nice parts of me were consumed and the shadows pumped me full of evil, mean bratty thoughts.

Melanie died in that instant and I... Madison... took control.

Long bitchy nails shot out from my fingers. My face became meaner and even prettier, soft pouty lips curving into a bratty grin. My clothing became designer, my handbag expensive and my personality became that of a spoiled rich bitch.

Reality rippled and changed. Only Jason and I would remember the old me. It was as if Melanie had never existed and only I had been born.

The shadows withdrew, but they left their mark. I was a fucking evil bitch now, devoid of mercy. I only cared about myself... oh and Jason of course.

"How do you feel baby?" he grinned, towering over me in his Adonis body.

"I feel amazing baby," I grinned. "In fact I want to thank you for being the best boyfriend ever."

I giggled and sank eagerly to my knees. My long nails looked so hawt as I unzipped Jason's fly and his huge ten inch dick flopped out.

Moaning I began to pump and suck his cock. This was who and what I worshipped now. Jason had taken me from that loser James.

"Yesssss, good girl," grunted Jason as he put his hands gently on my head and pushed me deeper onto his cock. "You're my slutty bitch now and I have everything I ever wanted."

I just gagged and gargled happily, I fucking loved my man's big cock.

I couldn't wait for him to cum. I needed to taste it...

***

And so that is how I ascended from being a fucking pathetic loser into a Goddess myself. Jason is the Master of the Shadow and so long as he holds that power I am his willing accomplice.

Soon after the transformation James came home. He no longer remembered I had ever been his girl, but that didn't stop me and Jason fucking loudly next door and laughing about the little simp jerking off in his room next door.

I felt so evil and perfect. Being Madison was like a perpetual state of orgasm. The meaner and nastier I was, the better it all felt.

Sometimes I wondered what would have happened if James had smashed that bottle instead of Jason? Perhaps he would be the Alpha stud with the delicious bitchy girlfriend.

But it was just idle speculation. The shadows answered to Jason...

And I answered only to the shadows now.

THE END

[skulla-rxcks]

Gaping guns

Paring: ot8 x afab reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: gun fucking, face fucking, PIV, unprotected, group s3x

Day 12 of ktober - You wake up in a random house and agree to have sex with a group of men, not knowing that it would be the most pleasurable experience of your entire life.

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

I’m walking back my car after doing my weekly grocery shopping, all the heavy bags I’m carrying hurting my arms, they’re definitely going to leave marks. As I continue walking I can’t help but wonder why I parked so far away, yeah sure the parking lot was full but could I at least have found a spot closer? my feet move along the concrete dragging myself along. Suddenly I feel someone or something grab me from behind. I fall onto the concrete behind me and hit my head, completely blacking out.

I wake up on a rich velvet covered house in what seems like a fancy dining room, I rub my eyes and sit up, looking around. there’s eight men sitting around the room I’m in, are they the ones who brought me here? I wonder. “you’re awake. finally.” one of them says in a deep Australian accent; his hairs blonde with a strong but petite build. “what happened..?

where am I? who are you guys?” I ask him, my eyes scanning the other men in the room as I wait for an answer.

“don’t worry about that now,” another man replies to me, he also has a similar accent to the guy who woke me up, but a bit more buffness in this build, his biceps popping out of his tank top.

“we’ll take you home if you let us fuck you, yeah?” fuck me? hopefully not all eight of them,, right? “would you let us use you, bunny?” one of the eight says. “I.. okay. but what are your names so I know what to.. scream?” I ask, crossing my legs as I sink into the couch. “Chan, Felix, Han, Seungmin, Jeongin call him I.n if easier, Hyunjin and Minho, oh and I’m Changbin.” the one who called me bunny says, Changbin. “okay.. I’ll try remembering all of your names.” I respond. “good girl.. take off your clothes for us.” Chan says with his thick accent, walking behind me and putting a gun to my head, threatening to pull the trigger if I don’t. the gun intimidating me enough to make me strip right then and there. “undergarments too.” Han giggles, walking up to me with a knife, cutting my underwear and bra off with a quick swipe before pulling the ripped material from my body.

“legs open. princess.” He adds, his strong hands forcefully pulling my thighs open to reveal my already wet pinkish cunt.

Chan kneels down infront of me, licking a stripe down my soaked folds. “what are you.. nngh..” I moan out, the sensation of being touched by his tongue making me whimper already. “I’m tasting you baby girl.” He chuckles, spreading my folds open and thrusting 2 fingers inside of me, curling them up and finding my g spot almost immediately.

“Fuck!” I gasp. “We’ll do that soon enough baby.” He replies, making a joke out of my moans.

“Who wants her first? And which hole?” He asks the rest of the boys; Changbin says he wants my ass, Felix says my pussy and Jeongin says my mouth. I thought they’d all use me separately but I was wrong as I see the three men walk towards me while taking their pants and boxers off as well as their shirts. All of them seem to have amazing bodies, abs, muscles and perfectly fit, you can tell they work out quite a bit.

Chan moves away and stands behind me again, watching as the three boys position themselves at the entrance of my holes. I moan in a mixture of pleasure and pain as all of their dicks impale me at once; Changbin’s making me whimper the most,

I’ve never had anything in my ass before so it feels like he’s ripping me open. “Fuckk..~” I cry, my words muffled from Jeongin’s cock in my mouth, I hear him gasp as my words send vibrations throughout his length. Felix starts moving inside of my pussy, his cock rubbing slightly against Changbin’s through the small barrier of skin. “Dick… so much… mmgh!” My eyes roll back as all three of them start penetrating my holes, my entire body shuddering at the sensation.

The rest of the boys are watching, staring at the scene with lust filled eyes stroking their own dicks as they watch my body get absolutely destroyed.

Chan leans over and takes out his gun again, rubbing it against my clit, adding to the pleasure these strange men are giving me. Minho comes over, tired off waiting he rubs himself against my breasts, beginning to leak all over my chest, his groans adding to the noise we all are making as he rubs his dick against the soft skin repeatedly.

“I’m gonna fucking cum!” Felix blurts out “can I fill you up?” He asks, I shake my head in response. No. What If I get pregnant? As much as I’d love my womb being filled up with Felix’s seed I sadly have to say no. He ends up pulling out and cumming all over my stomach, leaving my pussy gaping while Jeongin and Changbin are still going at my mouth and ass.

Hyunjin begins to walk over, taking Felix’s place and beginning to penetrate my pussy, thrusting way harder than Felix did, making the sound of skin against skin echo in the room. Jeongin fills up my mouth with his warm salty semen, not pulling out until I swallow it all; Seungmin pushing him aside and using my mouth now.

“So pretty..” Chan giggles, slapping his cock against my face as he watches me get violated by his friends, watching and paying attention to every thrust filling up my holes, and every groan and moan that we all are making, as well as the noises of Changbin’s and Hyunjin’s balls slapping against me. “Stay still..” Changbin Groans, wrapping his hand around my neck as he fills up my asshole with his thick seed, the feeling of his cum in my ass making me feel all warm inside. in the meantime Minho stops rubbing against my breasts and takes my ass instead now, thrusting harder and harder until he releases his load inside of me, Hyunjin follows after and then not soon after Seungmin does too.

Everyone’s Either filled me up or their cums stained on my skin, just as I thought we were done Chan pushes the boys away and commands for them to sit down - as if he’s their leader or something. “I’m not done with you yet.” He says, standing in front of me, kneeling down before shoving his gun into my vagina thrusting it in and out of me. “C..chan..? That’s a gun not a.. a dildo..” I tell him, earning a chuckle from him in response. “I know that, but I’m going to use it as one.” He shoves it in me deeper and deeper making me squirm until I cum all over the gun, hopefully not ruining it.

“Bend over the couch, get into doggy. He demands, I do as he says, bending myself over the arm of the chair, arching my back as my ass sticks out for him. “Good girl” he smirks before pushing into my vagina, thrusting himself in and out of me at a rapid pace. Using one of his hands to squeeze and play with my ass, while using the other one to slowly finger my ass before bringing up the speed to match it with the pace of his thrusting. I moan in pleasure, tears forming in my eyes as he uses me; fucking me harder and faster than any of the guys did. It could just be that he’s extremely fucking horny or that his dicks bigger than the others. Either way, I don’t care. “Chan..!” I cry, tears running down my face, wetting my cheeks with a hint of a glistening sparkle from my makeup as my mascara and eye shadow runs down my cheeks with them.

“You feel so fucking good. I’m going to cum inside this little tight cunt.” He says, growling into my ear.

“No.. I’ll get pregnant!” I call out. “So? I’ll get you plan b pills after this. Just need this right now, need to cum inside this slutty cunt of yours it’s the only part of you that hasn’t been filled up yet.” Chan groans, pushing his cock deeper into my pussy. “A-ah. But.. b-b-but..” I try to reason with him but I can’t he’s too deep inside me for me to complain about it, I look over at the rest of the guys who are now pleasuring each other; sucking and jerking each other. Some of them even kissing. But I can’t seem to focus on that now, all I can take in and focus on his dick penetrating my pussy, Chan’s dick to be exact.

“God you’re so cute.. can’t even talk! Fuck I’m gonna.. I’m gonna fill you up with my seed, take it, take it all you slutty bitch!” He screams out as he releases himself inside my cunt. When he pulls out I moan, feeling empty again.

“Gonna go get the pills now.. if you’re still horny maybe have another round with the boys..” Chan chuckles as he walks out the door to get the contraceptives. I nod and walk over to the rest of the boys, wanting to. No. Needing to be fucked one last time.

[heartfullofleeches]

Cat hybrid reader trying to feed on cow yandere in public?

[This is the brattiest reader I've ever written. (Mentions of lactation)]

"Thirsty...."

You despised the city. Nosy, overcrowded, and most bothersome of all - prevented you from obtaining what you loved most. Your caretaker had to run into town to picking something up from a supplier and brought you with them on the count of you being their emotional support. You were nestled together at their side on an outside bench at a coffee as you waited - position increasing your suffering tenfold.

At the angle you laid your face was perfectly cushioned by their fatty chest. Your cheeks rubs against the pads tapped over their leaking tits as you stir - wallowing in your misery. With how scarcely your lips left their skin, the cow had fundamentally became a milk factory. Beneficial on your end as well as theirs in most scenes, but this was not one of those times.

Your caretaker gently nudges you to the crook of their arm as they go to take the tray from the approaching barista - the rich scent of their cream assaulting your senses as rub at your ears - simultaneously pressing you further against their pillowy flesh.

"I know, it's my fault for taking you out in this weather. I'm so sorry, sugar - sit up so you can drink."

You scoot up as they offer you a cup, taking the drink and relishing the condensation dripping down its container. You assumed that comfort would spread once you finally took a sip, but the experience was quite the opposite. You tasted hints of milk, but sugar and cold coffee were unfortunately the dominating flavors of the beverage. The milk lacked the natural sweetness and creamy texture of their milk. Disappointed, you push the offending drink out of range - bleching as the taste lingers.

Your caretaker strokes your back as you sputter. "You didn't like it? Forgive me, Sweetheart, it's a latte so I thought you might... Is there anything else you want?"

Pouring the latte into a decorative plant, you slump back down on their chest, fangs teasing their nipple as you sob. "Milk...."

Your caretaker shutters. Their fragile heart, and heavy tits ache as your soft cries. Small dots seep through their shirt as the adhesive of their bandages loses grip due to all the fluid their producing which you lap at quizzically. "I can see if they'll bring you some to hold you off until we get home..."

Hunger flickers in your eyes - coarse tongue circling their puffy nipple as you reiterate. "milk."

They suck air through tight lips - digging at your shirt as you purr at the familiar taste. "Alright... We'll go to the bathroom and you can have a drink. That sound good with you?"

Too far... At the misguided go ahead, you yank their shirt over their chest - ripping off the bandages as you lower your lips to their milky tits. Their shirt falls over your face as you use both hands to massage their flesh, pumping more milk into your greedy mouth as you suckle. Your fangs scrap their nipple as the overflow becomes too much for you to swallow and you choke attempting to force it all down. The cow swats at your hands with no real force behind the blow, wiping at your chin as they take control from you.

"What have I told you about doing that... You're gonna make yourself sick.." They whisper- muttering softly as they craddle the back of your head as you slow to the tune of their gently rocking. "That's it... Just like that... What am I going to do with a trouble starter like you."

Love you like no other is what they'll do. So clingu, but that neediness was just what they adored. They weren't sure what they'd do, if they came home to an empty house and their arms free of claw marks given as you begged on your knees for more milk. Enabling you was a small sacrifice to pay for having you in their arms no matter how spoiled you might turn out to be.

Your caretaker pulls their jacket over you as more eyes wander towards your table, shielding you between their plush body and the couch cushions as someone approaches. You had started to drift off from all the milk you had consumed, and the warm summer sun beating down on you - at peace at last.

"Um... hello, I assume you're the one who purchased the catnip?"

"Yea... wanted to get my sweetheart something to relax them since longer trips make them antsy - but I think I'll be canceling that order."

[bandgie]

Agora Hills

Changbin x fem!reader

synopsis: You thought breaking up with Changbin was for the best, but he's here to remind you that's completely and utterly wrong.

warnings: MDNI 18+, suggestive themes, exes-to-lovers, rich!changbin, he's an asshole but means well, some angst mostly fluff, thats it lol

1.5k words

It's not as though you hated Changbin, quite the opposite actually.

He's caring, sweet, and would rip the shirt off his back if you asked. He would treat you well, spoil you like a baby. He's really the whole package...all for one thing.

As sweet as he is to you, he's too snobby with other people. You knew he had money, lots of it. Anyone with that amount to their name can let it get to their head, but Changbin loved showing off how much he had. You couldn't do it anymore.

The final straw was when you were out on a double date with your friends. The restaurant wasn't up to Changbin's taste, and he made it very clear he did not like it to everyone. You tried to awkwardly laugh it off, but it was hard not to when he said, "This is why I don't like hanging out with the middle class, no offense. You guys just have no taste."

You saw red. Here was your boyfriend belittling the class your family has had to work their way into. With clenched teeth you apologized to your friends, broke up with Changbin, and had your friends drive you home.

It's been two weeks, and he's been calling you nonstop. Text after text, call after call, voicemail after voicemail. When you weren't picking up, he started sending gifts to your door. Jewelry, bouquets of flowers, clothes you knew cost more than your rent. Changbin had a habit of showing his love through materialistic ways, but it was getting annoying having to return them back to his address.

"You should ask for a car," your roommate chirps. 

You only rolled your eyes and groaned in return. You slumped further into the couch before burying your face in your hands. 

"You're supposed to be helping me," you say frustratingly. 

"I am," she protests. "Your shit car is breaking down, again, and you and I both know damn well your little sugar daddy would love to buy you a better one."

Angrily, you place your hands on the sides of the couch and sit up. "He's not my sugar daddy! Don't call him that."

Your roommate tsks and shakes her head, "Whatever. Have you called him at least?" 

You shake your head back, "I haven't spoken to him since that night."

"Well, maybe you should," she reasons. "Some guys need to hear it more than once, especially if you just up and left him like that. Who knows, maybe you can work things out too."

"I have," you stress. "He's just so...ignorant sometimes. And plus, I can't take him back after what he said to you."

Rather than seeming upset, your roommate shrugs. "I've heard worse. Plus I don't think he meant it in a bad way, like you said, he's just a little ignorant."

Her aloofness makes you both on edge and at ease. It's good to hear that she wasn't as offended as you thought she'd be, but her being so nonchalant about your situation is irritating. 

In times like these, you wish someone could just tell you what to do. 

"I say you call him," she answers your prayers. "If he's an ass, it only proves that you were right to dump him. If he's not, then you either owe him a better breakup or another chance."

Finding resolution, you stand to your feet and grab your phone from the coffee table. "You say it like it's so easy."

"That's because it is."

-

Changbin picks up on the first ring. Not that it should surprise you, but the rehearsed words die in your throat when he answers with an overly excited hello?

When you don't answer he prompts you again, "Baby...are you there?"

You can feel the way your heart clenches at the pet name. It's only been a mere two weeks since you've heard his voice and you're already wanting to cry. 

"Don't call me that," your voice is small. 

"Why not?" He asks. You can hear how shaky his voice is, but you convince yourself it's the static. If he really cared about you, he wouldn't have said that in the first place. "Are you not my baby anymore?"

You have to chew on your bottom lip and look up to the ceiling of your room to keep yourself from crying. A few seconds pass before you speak, "I dunno...Changbin you really...you really messed up."

"I know, baby, and I'm so sorry. I'm stupid. I hurt you and embarrassed you in front of your friends. I would do it over again if I could, baby believe me. We can fix this, I can be better. I love you, you know that."

He's right, you do know that. There wasn't a moment in your relationship where you doubted his love for you. Changbin has been a little snobby before, but that doesn't compare to his overwhelming adoration for you.

"I love you too Binnie," you sniff. "I wanna fix this too."

You swear you can hear him smile behind the phone. "That's all I need to hear baby. You mean so much to me that I can't even explain it, you know that?"

Despite the tears on your waterline you laugh, "Yeah I do Binnie. You mean a lot to me too."

Changbin laughs with you. "I miss you baby...it's so lonely in my mansion."

Whatever tenderness you had filling your heart dissipates and is replaced with agitation. "Jesus this is exactly what I mean! It's those little stupid fucking remarks that-"

"No! Baby baby I didn't mean it like that! It's a Doja Cat song-"

"-and here I was really wanting to make things work and you just-"

The two of you begin to talk over one another, the previous confessions nearly forgotten. It takes Changbin profusely apologizing and begging for you to stop arguing. 

"Over the phone isn't gonna cut it. I'll send a limo and you can come over. Please baby, we can fix this."

You sigh heavily and collapse on your bed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Okay."

-

No matter how many times you enter Changbin's house, if you can call it that, it always leaves you breathless. Polished floors, high ceilings, with chandeliers dangling up above you. It's clean, not a speck of dust in sight, most likely thanks to the many invisible housemaids. 

He had ushered you to his room, sitting you on his couch as he remained standing. 

It felt good to see him, even if you were pissed. He was as muscular as ever, a black tank top showing his pecs and arms deliciously. He must've worked out before you came, he tended to use the gym as a stress reliever. 

"There's really no excuse I have other than I'm stupid." Changbin starts. 

You let a small breath of air out that mimics laughter, "You don't have to tell me that.

Changbin smiles at you, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah." He pauses. "At the dinner, I really don't know why I even said that. I didn't mean to hurt you, or your friends. It's was inappropriate and fucked up of me. We can go and I can apologize to them. Anything you want me to do, just name it."

Timidly, he gets on his knees between your legs and takes your hands into his own. "I love you. I love everything about you even if I complain like an idiot. I'm just not used to...some things, but I don't want that to be the end of us. I can learn, and I can change. Just don't leave me. Please."

God, if there's one thing Changbin is good at, it's begging. His hot breath fans over your bare legs, sending chills up your body. You can feel the heat of his body rolling off onto yours. He looks beautiful. His dark, messy curls that sit at the top of his head, the broadness of his shoulders, the way his lips pout. 

As big as he is, he's still a baby.

Your baby.

Gently, you untangle your hands from his, and his face drops for a moment. You quickly place them on his face, pulling him forward until his lips meet your own. 

Changbin squeaks at the feel of your kiss, but his initial shock turns into passion. He grips the side of your face with one hand while the other steadies himself on your knee. It's gentle, the way he pulls back for a moment before diving back in.

There’s nothing but love in his featherlight lips enveloping yours. All you can feel is him, his passion, his devotion to you. All the things he wants to say- no, he needs to say is conveyed through the kiss.

His hands snakes to the back of your head, pushing you deeper into his mouth. It doesn't take long before his lips don't feel like enough, and you're both opening your mouths to taste each other. 

It makes your heart swoon to know that he tastes the same. Familiar. Safe. 

Changbin grows bold, the hand on your knee moving up to grip the plushness of your thighs. 

"So, you forgive me?" He asks between kisses.

You pull back and pretend to think, "I don't know. Why should I?"

This makes Changbin smile, fully. "I can show you. Would that be better?"

The hand on your thigh inches to the hem of your shorts. The way his warm fingers caress your skin makes you involuntarily open your legs a little wider. 

"I guess that'll do for now."

a/n: this is a little different from what I usually post, but I like it. hope you do too! thank you @then-make-me for editing/proofreading!

[notiddygothgf]

2. Dance With Me

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Jealous? ❞ ❝ Maybe I am. ❞

★ c.w.: suggestive themes, drinking (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: ik i said id have an uploading schedule but UGH I JUST COULDNT LEAVE THIS OFF WITHOUT AN AKI/READER INTERACTION. this chapter is so deliciously tense im ngl i was ripping my shirt off like a werewolf god i love writing aki. anyway comment! like! interact w me and the story, it might encourage me to write more for u pookies ;)

★ w.c.;6.2k

shameless ; chapter index

THE PARTY WAS ALREADY in full swing by the time you arrived, the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses filling the elegant hall. The Public Safety event was more formal than you had expected, with everyone dressed in sleek, sophisticated attire. You smoothed down the black slip dress you had picked up from the mall a few hours before.

Your friend was easy to spot, already a bit tipsy in a black dress shirt and slacks, her laughter echoing above the crowd. She waved you over to the bar, her eyes bright with excitement. As you approached, you noticed a familiar blonde sitting next to him. 

A man with a scar on his face. Kishibe.

That bastard.

"You made it!" Himeno exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a half-hug. "I was starting to think you bailed on me."

"I came for the drinks," you teased with a smile, glancing around the room. "Looks like everyone from Public Safety is here."

"Yeah, it's quite the turnout," Himeno said, taking another sip of her drink. "Come on, let me get you something. What'll it be?"

"Just a glass of wine, thanks," you said, leaning against the bar as Himeno signaled the bartender. You scanned the room, noting the familiar faces of colleagues and higher-ups mingling together, their expressions ranging from relaxed to intensely focused, depending on their conversations.

And then there he was again – over at the other side of the room, chatting it up with a younger-looking guy with orange hair. Your apparent favorite Devil Hunter, clad in a Public Safety suit and slacks. He looked just about as thrilled to be here as you were, eyes dim and uninterested in whatever it was that the other boy was saying. His arms were folded behind his back.

He looked... rather dashing. You could see why Himeno had her eyes on him.

Quickly, you averted your eyes, turning your attention to your old coworker. "Kishibe," You put on your best smile. "How have you been?"

He grinned – it was a little unnerving, as on the rare occasion Kishibe did smile, it usually wasn't a good thing. "Good, kid. You been staying alive?"

"Yeah, I've been living," you replied, accepting the glass of red wine Himeno handed you. There was a brief moment of silence, during which you took your first sip of the crimson liquid in your glass – tart. 

"I fuckin' hate this song," Yoshida said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He propped his chin up on his hand, eyes flitting over to Himeno. "Wanna dance?"

A few Devil Hunters had already found their way to the dance floor, swaying to the beat of the music. Himeno eyed them up precariously. 

"I was gonna wait for Aki to get over here. See if I could get him out there with me," She sighed. The orange cocktail pinched between her fingers swished around as she slid the glass back and forth. "Maybe she'll dance with 'ya?"

"Pass. I just got here," you said, taking a sip of your wine. The rich, fruity flavor was a pleasant distraction from the icky feeling in your gut – the one that had begun to brew when you saw him standing over there.

Himeno smiled, "Here he comes now."

You followed her gaze. Aki had long since left his friend at the edge of the dancefloor, and was now making his way over to the bar with that unreadable, solemn expression he always seemed to have. He was walking your way.

No. Himeno. He was walking towards her, you reminded yourself.

It didn't feel that way, though. Not when he was looking right at you.

Shit. He is walking towards me. You grabbed Kishibe by the sleeve. Suddenly, a dance seemed like a great idea. "You know what? Let's go!"

Kishibe whisked you away from the bar, his grip firm yet gentle. You glanced back at the scene you had left behind. Himeno smiled at Aki, but his eyes seemed to be tailing you.

"Didn't peg you for a dancer," you teased, trying to push thoughts of Aki from your mind as Kishibe led you into the rhythm of the song – and really, it was a terrible song. Some sappy love song from the 80s.

Kishibe smirked, a rare expression on his usually stoic face. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he replied, his voice low. The light seemed to reflect off of his face in such a way that he looked more tired than usual – the years had clearly taken their toll on him.

"Oh, do tell," you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckled, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he twirled you around. "Let's just say I've picked up a few things over the years."

"Color me impressed," You retorted. It was easy to forget the tension when you were laughing, even if it was just for a moment.

"You're not bad yourself," Kishibe admitted, guiding you through the steps with surprising grace.

"Years of practice," you replied with a smile. "Mind your feet around me, though."

Despite the lively atmosphere, you couldn't shake the sensation of Aki's gaze lingering on you. Every spin, every step, you felt it—a tangible thread of tension that kept drawing you back to the bar, to him. Kishibe's presence was a welcome distraction, his steady demeanor and occasional wry comments grounding you, but even then, your thoughts kept drifting back to him.

Before you knew it, the song had ended. You laughed, carefree, light, free, and clapped Kishibe on the shoulder.

"That wasn't so bad, actually," You admitted.

"Thanks for dancin' with me," Kishibe chuckled before straightening up and heading off toward the restrooms. "I'm going to take a leak."

And then he was moving away, moving towards the entrance at the front of the room.

You turned back toward the bar, your eyes scanning the crowd until they found Hayakawa. He hadn't moved, much to your chagrin. He was still there, his eyes fixed on you. The sight of him sent a jolt of anticipation through you, a mix of curiosity and something deeper, something you weren't quite ready to acknowledge. More importantly, Himeno wasn't there.

Making your way back to the bar, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his gaze intensify with each step. The distance between you seemed to shrink, the room around you fading into the background. As you approached, you braced yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.

You had his attention and he most certainly had yours.

You took a seat next to him at the bar. Though, honestly, it wasn't really next to him – you had been sure to allow one empty seat between the both of you. You told yourself it was so that Himeno would have somewhere to sit (next to her eye candy). A more dishonorable part of you felt as if that one empty seat would act as a barrier of sorts, a wall between you and him, between your thoughts and the man who seemed to occupy them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him tug back his sleeve, glancing down at a watch. Was he waiting for Himeno?

"Where'd she run off to?" You asked, finally breaking the agonizing silence between the two of you.

He turned to you with an unreadable expression, brows furrowed. "Who?"

Who? Is this guy serious? You thought, but chose not to voice said thoughts.

"Himeno," You clarified. 

"Oh," He answered, "The bathroom, I think."

A man of many words.

You cleared your throat, glancing down at your lap for a brief moment before making eye contact with him again – a task that proved to be far more difficult than it would have seemed. "Lieutenant Captain Hayakawa, right?" When he nodded, you extended your hand towards him, introducing yourself by name once more.

"Yes, from the Kyoto sector. I remember you," He deadpanned, as if that much should have been obvious. Clearly, he hadn't forgotten your meeting on the train, and had no interest in pretending as if this was the first time the two of you had ever laid eyes upon one another. "We met on the train. What are you doing here?"

"If you're talking about Tokyo, then I was called in by Makima for backup," You sighed. Absentmindedly, you drummed your fingers against the bar countertop. There was only you, Aki, the bartender, and the other four patrons of said bar there. "If you're talking about here– this party, then I only came because Himeno invited me. The open bar's a plus, too."

"She invited me, too," He replied. He didn't sound too happy that such had occurred.

I know.

You chuckled, "Not a big party guy?"

"Definitely not," He agreed. "You?"

"I used to be, once upon a time," You smiled. "I think it was the drinks that used to liven me up, though. I don't remember parties always being so..." You trailed off, moving your hands as if you were trying to find the right words to say.

"Disappointing?" He finished for you.

"Yeah," You felt yourself laugh a little. "I guess. I feel like they can be overwhelming, sometimes. I'm too sober to party these days."

"Couldn't agree more," He sighed. The bartender – from whom, apparently, the man had already ordered a something-and-coke – placed a glass full of dark brown liquid in front of him. "Can I get you something to drink? We can fix that problem."

You waved him off – how would it look, after all, if you were seen getting drunk on another man's dime when you had a husband waiting for you at home? "Don't spend your money on me, I probably won't be here long."

"What's your vice?" He asked, eyes glinting with something you couldn't place. "Beer? Liquor? Dark or Light?"

You couldn't fight the toothy grin that crawled over your lips, "Wine, if you must know."

"What kind?" He asked.

"Red."

Without wasting another moment, he asked the blond bartender for a glass of Merlot. He uncapped a bottle of red wine. He poured you half of a glass, placing it in front of your trembling hands.

You turned to the young Captain, brow quirked, gripping the stem of the red liquid. 

"You tried it before?" He asked. When you nodded, he continued, a peculiar tone following his words, "I've heard it's pretty tasty."

Tasty. God.

Married woman! Remind him. 

"I have it at dinner with my husband sometimes," You answered easily, taking a calm, calculated sip of the wine. Good,you thought. Mention your husband. That should make him back off. "Pairs well with steak."

"Is he here with you tonight?" He asked.

You felt your eyes widen. "No, he's in Kyoto..." you muttered, taking a few more much-needed chugs of the wine.

He hummed. If he thought something about that, he didn't say anything. "The wine matches your lipstick."

He's looking at my lips.

The empty seat between the two of you felt a little smaller – like his buttery-smooth voice was drawing you in, enticing you to tell him things you knew you shouldn't say. Before you could open your mouth to tell him something along the lines of, "I really should get going now. Bye!", you were interrupted by the one person you really didn't want to see after making goo-goo eyes at Captain Hayakawa.

"Hiya," Himeno greeted the two of you, plopping down on the stool between you and Hayakawa. "What are we talking about over here?"

Hayakawa answered smoothly as the words died on your lips, eyes never once leaving your face. "We were just bonding over a mutual distaste for parties."

She rolled her eyes, throwing an arm around you, "Don't worry. She'll liven up as soon as she gets a few drinks in her system. She used to be the life of the party."

"That's an exaggeration," You shook your head.

"Hardly," She retorted. "Back in the day, she could outdrink anyone, including me."

You took a few more sips of your wine.

Hayakawa pulled his drink up to his mouth, "I find that hard to believe."

"I'm being serious," She reaffirmed. She was about to say something else when a hand on her shoulder interrupted her – it belonged to an older looking man in a black tuxedo. Her eyes widened with recognition.

"Can I steal you away for a moment?" He asked her, voice gruff.

"Of course!" She smiled, bright as always. She turned to you apologetically before rising from her seat,  "Sorry, I'll be back later."

Then it was just the two of you again – you and Hayakawa, whose gaze was so heavy that you felt as if you were suffocating beneath it.

"Can you really outdrink her?" He asked. "She's got a liver of steel."

"Damn right she does!" You laughed – really laughed, this time. "Seven-eight years ago? Yes. Now, I'm not so sure."

Something in his gaze shifted at the sound of it. He leaned closer, inching towards the empty seat, the unspoken line between you and him. "Finish up your wine, then. Let's test that theory."

"Is that a challenge?" You asked him.

"Maybe," Hayakawa said, a faint smirk playing on his lips. The tension between you was thick, almost electric. "What if I don't believe you?"

"I don't know," you hesitated, glancing at your nearly empty wine glass. "I probably should head home soon."

"We'll be fast," he assured, his eyes locked on yours.

"I don't know about that," you replied, looking in the direction Himeno had gone. "Himeno can talk for a while. God knows when she'll be back."

"Forget about her, then," he said, his voice low and smooth, bringing you back to the present – where it was just you and him, only a foot apart, speaking quietly. "Drink with me."

His boldness made your heart flutter. "Right now?" you asked, trying to steady your voice.

"Yes," he said, leaning closer, the smirk still lingering. "Unless you're forfeiting the match?"

He had you there. You couldn't back down from a challenge, not when he was looking at you like... that. 

What would your husband think? A part of you resented him just a little bit for taking you away from that lifestyle, from this, but you were still married. You had to do right by him.

Still, it wasn't like you were actively doing anything wrong. It was just a drink. 

So, deciding to follow through on your mission to 'loosen up a little', you downed the rest of your wine. "Alright," You sighed. "But we're taking tequila shots. I want this to be quick."

"Fine," he agreed, his smirk widening.

You called the blond bartender over again and asked for six shots of tequila. He set down six small glasses, pouring a shot of clear liquid into each of them. He garnished each of the six glasses with a lime wedge. 

You leaned over the empty seat, sliding three of the glasses over to him.

"Here's how I used to do them," you said, placing salt on the back of your hand. "You lick it," you instructed, holding your hand out to him. "And then you take the shot, then suck on the lime."

He hesitated for a moment before leaning in, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt on your skin. The muscle was hot and wet, drawing a line from your knuckles to your wrist. Perhaps it was the warmth of his mouth on your hand, or the way he peered up at you through his half-lidded eyes and lowered lashes so shamelessly. Perhaps it was the wine in your system doing its work already. Either way, you couldn't help the heat that spread over your neck and your face – the stir in your chest that you tried to ignore.

It's just a shot. You quickly salted your own hand and licked it, trying to focus. You clinked glasses with him, and together you downed the shots, immediately sucking on the lime wedges.

Both of you winced at the strong taste, but you couldn't help but laugh at the face he made. You could feel the warmth of the alcohol spreading through you immediately. It could have been that, or the way he was looking at you with those pretty blue eyes of his, but you felt different.

"Not so tough now, huh?" You teased.

He licked the remnants of the lime juice off of his lips.

Oh. Oh. He's dangerous.

"Don't be so sure of yourself. Only one shot down," He replied, reaching for the second shot already. "Two more to go, right?"

This time, when you clinked your glass against his, it felt an awful lot like you were sealing your fate. You tilted your head back, and then the tequila burned its way down your throat – searing hot, like his mouth had felt against the back of your hand, like his eyes had felt on your red-tinted lips. .

The next shots flew by in a blur of laughter. By the time you took your fifth, it was clear that you couldn't hold your liquor as well as you used to. The room felt warmer, the lights a little brighter, and your inhibitions significantly lower. Dangerously lower.

Somewhere along the way, he crossed the unspoken line and moved a seat closer to you. Somewhere along the way, you put your hand on his knee, hunched over, shoulders shaking with laughter – and still, no sign of Himeno.

"That's ridiculous," You said. "All of that for some sliced bread?"

"12 different kinds of jam. Wasted." Hayakawa deadpanned. "That's what I've been trying to tell you, he's fucking ridiculous."

"That's not so bad," You added. (Trying to play the devil's advocate, as always), "Did he clean up after himself, at least?"

"Denji's not so bad with that. Took the fucker long enough," Hayakawa commented. He moved his straw to the side, taking a sip of what was left of his drink (which you had learned was a whiskey and coke after he'd offered you a sip), "The other one..." He added, pausing to frown. "I don't even wanna think about it. It'll ruin my mood, and I only just started to enjoy myself."

Your drunken laughter could have been heard from the fucking moon. "Don't say that. You've been here longer than I have."

He knit his brows together, "Been bored out of my mind all night, until you came around."

Had the world always been so blurry around the edges? "Why's that?" You asked. "You could've gone out on the dancefloor, or something. You only live once."

You really wished you could be sober again – only because it meant that your verbal filter would return, and you would stop being a blubbering idiot.

"Didn't feel like dancing," He replied.

You patted his leg, giggling sarcastically, "Why not?"

"Because," He said, "You were dancing with someone else."

Your face was alight, on fire – you blamed it on the booze. 

"Jealous?" You asked, only partially joking.

You should have known better. You should have stopped drinking about thirty minutes ago. No, better yet; you should have walked away the moment he offered to buy you a drink. You should have done the right thing from the start – turn away from the captivating Devil Hunter and his soft lips against your hand, the desire in his eyes – but you didn't.

"Maybe I am," He replied, voice deep and velvety and – fuck . "You seemed like a good dancer earlier tonight. It's a crime, wasting skills like that on a man like Kishibe."

"So, what, you're saying you wouldn't dance with Himeno but you'd dance with me?" You asked.

"Yeah," He answered with a great deal of certainty. "I guess that's exactly what I'm saying."

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. The man before you was a far cry from the stoic Captain you met on the train. This version of Hayakawa was carefree, almost boyish, and undeniably charming (and drunk).

Still, you were undeniably married, and people talked.

"I'm married, Hayakawa," you hesitated, glancing around. "I shouldn't even be drinking with you right now."

He pouted, a surprisingly endearing expression on his usually composed face. "Dance with me."

"Is that the captain's orders?" You asked with the slightest, breathiest chuckle, the slightest roll of your eyes.

"If that'll make you dance with me, then, yes," He replied, much to your surprise. "Captain's orders."

"Aren't you, like, 20?" You asked. "A little young to be so cocky, don't you think?"

"I'm your superior," He shrugged. 

"I'm not used to being spoken to like that by a man I met once on the train," You retorted. "You may be my superior, but I'm older than you. Have some respect."

He leaned a little closer to you. "If I'm not dancing with you, then I'm getting out of here and going home."

You raised an eyebrow. Wow.

You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't.

Against your better judgment, you sighed, "You better not step on my toes."

"Never," he grinned. "Lead the way."

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but smile. The combination of his charm and the alcohol had eroded your resistance. You took his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the contact sending a jolt through you. It was something you hadn't felt in a long time.

You led him to the dance floor.

The music was lively, and the atmosphere was buzzing with energy. You guided him through the steps, your bodies moving in sync. He stumbled a bit at first, but his determination to learn was endearing.

"It's a simple two-step," You told him. Tapping his shoe with the toe of your heel, you replicated the movement for him. "Like this, see? One, two – Left, right."

Hesitantly, he followed your rhythm, swaying to the left, then the right. He tripped over himself the second time around, muttering, "Shit, sorry."

Laughter bubbled up between the two of you as he tried to follow your lead. He was surprisingly light on his feet, and his genuine effort made the experience enjoyable. There was a sense of camaraderie, a shared moment that felt almost... intimate.

The ghost of his touch down the open back of your dress, your spine, over your waist nearly made you gasp. 

His words were a low whisper against the shell of your ear, "Is it okay if I hold you here?"

His hands rested on your waist, firm yet gentle, as he tried to mimic your movements. Every brush of his fingers against your skin gave you chills. The closeness was intoxicating, each movement drawing you nearer to him.

Fucking hell. He was going to be the death of you. It was a big mistake – this whole thing was. You and liquor didn't mix well. Combine that with a devilishly handsome Captain, and...

You could do nothing but nod.

"There you go, you've got it," you said, your voice breathy from the exertion and the intoxicating proximity – his cologne, the scent of him, it was all intoxicating, as matter of fact. "Left, then right, then left. Just like that."

As the song continued, the space between you seemed to shrink even further. You could feel the heat of his body, his breath mingling with yours. Your heart was racing a mile a minute – or was that your head spinning? You couldn't tell.

"Are you having fun?" he asked, his voice low.

"Maybe a little," you admitted, your eyes locking with his.

And there it was again. That invisible magnet that always seemed to pull the two of you together. For a moment, he made it easy to forget about your morals and obligations. It was just you and him and only a few inches of space between your body and his much larger one. 

His hands slid up your sides, settling just below your ribcage. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Me too."

You were gonna pass out. You were gonna pass out and explode all over the dance floor, and he would have to scrape your remains off the floor.

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. 

You tried to lose yourself in the music, focusing on the lively beat and the sensation of Hayakawa's hands guiding you. The rhythm pulsed through your body, each beat a lifeline in the chaotic sea of your emotions. You forced a smile, trying to appear as if you were in the moment with him, but it didn't work. The guilt gnawed at you, every pulse of the music reminding you of the boundary you were too close to crossing.

"I–" you began, your voice barely audible over the music – which wasn't actually all that loud, but sounded like a blaring roar in your mind.

Whatever you were going to say effectively died in your mouth the moment you looked up at him. Those pretty baby blues of his, his plump lips wrapped around something you didn't quite hear.

Every time you closed your eyes, flashes of your husband's face invaded your thoughts. His smile, the way he looked, the quiet moments you shared in the comfort of your home. Each memory was a sharp pang of guilt that contrasted painfully with the thrill you felt in Hayakawa's arms. 

You felt the warmth of Hayakawa's hand on your back, guiding you effortlessly across the dance floor, away from the memories. 

"Hey," He said, "You look a little faint."

You forced a laugh, trying to mask the turmoil inside you. "It's a little hot in here, isn't it?" 

Ignoring the guilt became increasingly difficult as his hand slid up your arm, sending an electric shiver down your spine. The touch was both thrilling and terrifying. You felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering dangerously close to falling. His fingers left a trail of fire on your skin, each touch a reminder of how far you were straying from the person you believed yourself to be.

"Is everything okay?" Hayakawa asked, concern flickering in his eyes. "You seem a little distracted."

You nodded quickly, trying to steady your breathing. "I'm fine," you lied. "Hayakawa, look, I–"

His gaze softened, his thumb brushing gently, almost unnoticeably over the back of your hand. "Aki," he said, his voice sincere. "Call me Aki."

You knew you were drunk, too drunk to be making any rational decisions. You should go home, you told yourself, but his eyes held you captive. Deep and intense, they seemed to see right through you, igniting something inside you that you hadn't felt in a long time. The pull was irresistible, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body betraying your mind.

You hadn't been touched this way – so intimately, yet so respectfully – in years.

"Aki," you breathed, practically reeling in the way the syllables felt as they slipped off your lips – utterly taboo, two sinful tricks of the tongue. "I don't think," You swallowed the guilt down, "We shouldn't be doing this."

Aki's smile was faint, almost altogether absent. "We shouldn't," he said, his voice filled with a determination that made your heart skip a beat, "Do you want me to stop?"

You looked away, trying to regain control. The room spun slightly, the alcohol clouding your senses. You must have drunk too much. Trying to steady yourself, you scanned the room, and then you saw her. 

Himeno stood at the edge of the dance floor. Her cocktail was clenched in her hand, her eyes filled with sadness and betrayal. The sight of her hit you like a punch to the fucking gut – how must this whole thing have looked from her perspective? The image of the man she'd been trying to get with for a year swaying side to side with you, faces only inches apart, dancing around the elephant in the room.

Oh my god. What have I done?

The guilt surged forward, stronger than before. How could you have let it go this far? 

You felt suddenly sick, the weight of your mistake crashing down on you like a fucking anvil. 

This needs to stop, you thought, panic rising in your chest. I'm making a huge mistake. Snap out of it.

You pushed Aki away, your movements abrupt and forceful. His eyes widened in surprise and confusion, a hurt look crossing his face. He opened his mouth to speak, you spoke first – you knew that if you let him utter another peep, he would convince you to stay.

"I feel sick. Excuse me," you blurted out, your voice trembling.

Then, like the coward you were, you turned and fled, your steps unsteady as you wove drunkenly through the crowd. 

The pounding music and the murmur of conversations faded into the background, the room spun around you as you hurried toward the exit, Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. 

I have to leave. Oh my god. I've ruined everything. I have to leave.

Bursting through the door into the lobby you took a deep breath, hoping it would calm the storm inside you. A little calmer now that you had escaped the scene, you marched towards the entrance. You didn't know where you'd left your jacket and, to be frank, you didn't care.

The first gust of wind against your hot face felt like heaven. The night was quiet, save for the quiet traffic noises only a few yards away.

I need to call a taxi.

You knew you had narrowly avoided a disaster, but the guilt and confusion remained, gnawing at you. What had you been thinking? How had you let yourself get so carried away? 

Practically running into the road, you waved your hand around, calling, "Taxi!"

Out of the four or five cabs in the road, of course, nobody stopped. Just when you thought your luck was going to change, the taxi you had originally thought to be headed towards you drove right on past your waving arms.

You huffed out a frustrated sigh, kicking your heels into the gravel. The quiet sounds of the nocturnal city of Tokyo accompanied your misery. I fucked up.

A call of your name a few feet behind you made your stomach do a backflip. Fuck.

You ignored him, wrapping your arms around yourself, rubbing your hands over your skin to soothe the goosebumps all over it. You walked further away from him, to the other side of the curb. 

And, of course, your efforts were entirely in vain. You could hear the dreaded footsteps as they slowed to a stop behind you, then feel the gentle weight of a heavy fabric over your shoulders – a black suit jacket. The notes of his cologne that lingered on the fabric surrounded you – comforted you, blanketed you.

"You're gonna catch a cold out here like that," Aki spoke finally, breaking the silence. His voice was so deep, so melodic, that you almost wished he hadn't. 

"Why are you here?" You asked rather harshly. Your tone was cold, biting, something that seemed a little out of character for you, considering that you were just swaying with him on the dance floor a moment or two ago. "Are you leaving?"

"I should be the one asking you that," He sighed. 

You swallowed, finally turning around to face him head on. He looked desperate, bangs frizzy and hair a little messy, donning a loosened tie around the collar of his partially unbuttoned white shirt. He was so fucking gorgeous that it physically hurt to be this close to him, to have him leaning over to get his face close to yours, his jacket draped over your cold shoulders. 

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I overstepped," He added. "It wasn't my intention to make you feel uncomfortabl–"

"Stop, just–" You interrupted him. You sounded a little breathless when you said it. "Stop it. Go back inside. Go–" You swallowed, voice trembling only slightly as you finished, "Go back to Himeno."

Although fairly uncertain as to why, you knew you were acting unwise. What was your fucking problem tonight?

His eyes were unwavering pools of passion – ocean waves crashing against the sandy color of his skin, luring you deeper into the abyss. He lifted a perfectly arched brow, uttering innocently, "Why? I want to be where you are."

"Stop it," You hissed. Any minute now someone would step outside for a cigarette and see this whole thing going down. They would hear everything he was saying to you, and with your luck, it would be Himeno. You didn't need to act a fool in front of anyone else tonight.

You finished, "If you're a good man, you'll forget about this whole– this whole thing and just– leave me be." 

Correction. Apparently, Aki was an exception to your previous statement about not acting a fool.

Finally, finally, a cab pulled up to the curb. In fact, it just might have been the first good thing to happen to you that entire evening. You waved it down frantically, rejoicing internally when it didn't drive away. 

A hand on your shoulder physically stopped you from bolting into the cab the way you wished to, "I can't do that."

Desperate to get it through his thick skull, you clipped back, "I'm married!" 

He took a step towards you. You inched backwards.. 

"You weren't acting like it," He retorted. "I can't forget about tonight. I know you felt it, too–"

"Enough!" You finally snapped – you weren't fully aware of how loud you had shouted that word until he looked at you with wide, hurt eyes. With a sigh, you went for the cab door, finishing the conversation without so much as turning around, "Goodnight, Captain Hayakawa."

He's still your superior. Be polite.

You got into the cab and practically slammed the door shut behind you. Adjusting yourself and buckling in, you told the driver, "Hilton Shinjuku, please."

The moustached man hummed, "Of course." The distinct sound of a phone ringing broke into the atmosphere, and he quickly excused himself before taking the call. 

You sighed, laying your head back against the headrest. Fuck. 

Being alone with your thoughts was bad enough, but adding alcohol into the mixture proved to make not flipping the hell out even more difficult. You had fucked up real bad – you couldn't even think straight, let alone think about what consequences awaited you after you sobered up. What would Himeno think of you? What would your husband think of you? Fuck.

Absentmindedly, you toyed with the fabric draped over your shoulders. Wait– Did I forget to give him his fucking jacket back?

The cab driver flipped his phone shut before driving off. "Sorry, for the wait, Ma'am."

The day couldn't have gotten any worse if it tried.

"Shit," You hissed quietly, moreso to yourself than anyone in particular. 

As you flopped back against the backseat of the cab, your fingers brushed up against something in the pocket of his jacket. It felt like a little gum wrapper – a paper sheet, or something like that. Against your better judgment, you pulled it out and unfolded whatever the object was. 

A small paper slip sat in the palm of your hand. One that had a phone number on it.

You looked down at the slip, noticing his handwriting—strong, confident strokes. You rubbed your thumb over the ink, tracing the numbers absentmindedly. 

Fuck, that was smooth. You couldn't help but feel a pang of something—admiration? Attraction? Annoyance?—as you thought about how effortlessly he had slipped the note into his jacket pocket, of all things. What am I supposed to do now?

Throw it out. Burn it. Anything but call it, for certain, you thought.

Still, you couldn't help but cast a subconscious glance out the rear window to where he had been standing – where you knew he probably was still standing.

And, sure as rain, there he was, standing six-foot-something on the edge of the sidewalk, gaze chasing the back of your cab. You could feel the heat of him even after the driver pulled out. You watched as he pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced flick. The flame briefly illuminated his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes as he took a drag and exhaled slowly, the smoke swirling around him in the cool night air.

He watched you drive off into the night. You watched him watch you until he disappeared behind the sea of cabs and cars that dotted the streets of Tokyo. Then, once you were absolutely sure that he was out of sight, you sank back into the seat, releasing a breath you didn't know you'd been holding in.

A soft chuckle escaped the cab driver, who caught your eye in the rearview mirror. "Rough night?"

You nodded sadly, pressing your cheek against the icy cold window, "You have no idea."

a/n: kekeke MUAHAHAHAAA!! ugh i love him sm. lmk what you all thought!! love u bunches

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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[newrochellechallenger2019]

Kinktober Week 1!

possibly the most belated kinktober of all time but whatever (ps. i'd already planned on doing this version before seeing the challengers calendar and tbh i don't have the motivation to write every day sorry lol)

Lingerie/Body Worship/Masturbation/First Time

tonight was the night, you and Art Donaldson, the star member of the Stanford tennis team, the one you'd been ogling ever since you stepped foot into your biology lecture and saw his messy blonde curls in the front row...were having sex for the first time.

you stand and look at yourself in your dorm mirror, tugging the straps of the red lingerie set you'd foolishly brought with you to college.

it's not like you were ashamed of your virginity, but in your head sex was way more special than it seemed in college, just last week your roommate had gotten with a guy in the bathroom of a frat party and then went back to dancing like it was nothing.

you take a deep steadying breath and take a moment to admire yourself, the push-up bra making your tits look way better than the were and the everything shower you'd taken the night before made you look like a hairless cat, especially with the near-seethrough thong on your hips.

you fluff your hair one final time and grab your oversized jacket and zip it up, grateful he was only down the hall.

as you trapse down the hall, you try to quell your anxieties, art's a professional sports player, not to mention crazy rich and insanely handsome, he must've had sex with a bunch of girls, he'll know what to do.

you knock on his door and he answers almost immediately, in only his stanford tshirt and a pair of boxers.

'hey' he says softly, kissing you as he leads you into the dorm.

'hi' you murmur back, smiling up at him.

his fingers find a strand of your hair and he toys with it, eyes fixated on the curl.

'you...curled it' he mumbles, and there's a nervousness to his tone you didn't expect.

he's stalling...why the fuck is he stalling? why hasn't he unzipped your jacket yet? tossed you onto the bed, ripped this stupid red set off you and-

'uh yeah i did' you blush, suddenly embarrassed at the amount of effort you've put into this, to make it special.

'looks good' he muses, before his hands find the zipper of your jacket, finally, and begins to unzip it tentatively, 'what am i going to find under here?' he attempts to joke but you see the way his hands are shaking.

he tugs the jacket off your shoulder and stares at you, his eyes raking over every inch of your body, his cheeks go pink as he licks his lips nervously, his erection growing in his boxers as he takes in your curves and the way the lingerie sits on your body.

he swallows, hard '...wow' he manages to murmur, eyes hungry with desire.

you flush, embarrassed under his lustful gaze 'it's stupid isn't it? i bought it years ago because i thought it was sexy but-'

'no no no' he cuts you off, 'you look...gorgeous...perfect even' he breathes, hands finding your hips and he pulls you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

the kiss quickly grows hungry and you only break apart so you can pull his shirt off over his head and his lips are back on yours before you can even think, the both of you tumbling onto his bed, him on top of you.

he pulls away slowly, and sits up, pushing your legs apart so he can sit between them and admire you, a small smirk on his face and you're acutely aware of his erection pressed against your inner thigh.

he runs his hands along your body, staring at you like you're heaven sent, his fingers idly tracing circles on your hip.

he leans down and begins to kiss at your neck, you whimper as he sucks a dark mark there, his hands still on your hip.

he kisses down to your collarbone, murmuring sweet nothings, before biting down and you squeal in surprise. he pauses to look over at you, noting your flushed expression as a sign to keep going as you grin back at him

his hands slide up to your chest and around your back, unclipping the push-up bra.

his fingers roll your nipples deftly and you let out a high pitched moan 'art-'

'so fucking pretty' he breathes, half in response, half to himself.

he grips one of your tits and swirls his tongue around your nipple and your back arches, every sense heightened from the way his body is pressed into yours and he is lavishing you.

he does the same to your other nipple before sitting back up again, admiring the hickeys across your neck and collarbone and your swollen nipples.

'you're so hot baby, you know that?' he breathes, his fingers back to tracing circles against your hips.

'i know' you whisper, biting your lip in what you hope is in a seductive manner.

it's not long before he's back on your body again, kissing all down your stomach till he reaches the edge of your thong and your breath hitches.

but...he skips it, instead sucking a love-bite into your inner thigh, causing you to squirm and whine in delight, him pausing just to grin up at you, pupils overblown with lust, before he's back attacking your thighs, biting and sucking marks into them like an animal.

he sits up again, admiring his handiwork and you're too overwhelmed by pleasure to question why he hasn't taken your thong off yet.

he smirks 'all mine baby' and you nod fervently in response.

he groans, before he captures your lips in a hungry kiss, hands gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him.

your legs wrap around his waist as the kiss deepens, your tongues colliding and he practically moans into your mouth.

he rolls over, back hitting the bed and you're on top of him as he breaks the kiss, pushing the hair off your face and just staring at you, as though you'd hung the moon and stars.

you two don't even end up fucking that night, and you fall asleep wrapped in his arms, covered in his love and adoration, content.

[mousy-nona]

Prompt. Alastor hits deer mating season and tries not to let anyone know, but Lucifer finds out.

Obligatory warning: It's a mating prompt. There's going to be EXPLICIT SCENES.

“Do you smell that?” 

Husk sniffed the air delicately, then shook his head. “Nothing but Angel Dust’s normal B.O.”

Angel Dust purred. “Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.” 

The cat rolled his eyes and turned back towards the bar, but not before Lucifer caught the rare smile he reserved for Angel Dust curving on the corners of his lips. 

“Do you seriously not smell that?” Lucifer asked, puzzled. The scent was growing stronger by the second, so rich and heavy it seemed to hang in the air. Musky, woody, with a spicy sharpness to it, like crushed pine needles and orange blossoms. There was something else to it though – something that Lucifer couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it filled his head like an opium cloud. His thoughts felt slow, like molasses in winter. 

His body was a different story. Every time he breathed in, a tingle of electricity ran through him. His fingers were trembling, and his skin felt too tight and a little numb at the same time. 

Am I being drugged?

He was just about to excuse himself when Alastor came rushing around the corner. He was moving fast, as if he was being chased by a pack of wolves, and muttering something to himself like a lunatic. He didn’t see Lucifer until it was too late, and they collided into each other so hard the impact sent them both tumbling to the ground. 

“Ouch! Clean up on aisle four!” Angel Dust crowed. 

“Shut up.” Alastor’s voice was distorted, as if it had been spliced into four. He sounded strained, his throat clenched. 

The scent was unbelievably strong now. Lucifer’s head swam with it. On autopilot, he picked himself up off the ground and extended a hand towards Alastor to help him up. Alastor moved to swat it away, but the second their hands touched, it was like a sonic blast ripped through the hotel. Lucifer’s world went numb, flexed and narrowed in on one thing, and one thing only: Alastor. A bolt of lightning ran up his arm, through his chest, down his legs, and pooled underneath his belt. His legs went weak with need. 

Alastor, for his part, didn’t seem much better off. His eyes were wide with disbelief, his chest heaving as his breathing stuttered. He was staring at Lucifer as if he was a ghost. 

And then something shifted. His eyes went blank, and Alastor – the Alastor Lucifer knew, at least – flickered out of view as something else, something infinitely hungrier and far more desperate, took over. 

Alastor snarled and leapt forward, grabbing Lucifer by the neck. People were shouting something behind them, but Lucifer couldn’t hear them, couldn’t see them over the thick fog of musk and wood rolling off of Alastor. 

Shadows swallowed them whole, and spat them back out in a dark bayou, lit only by the weak light of the stars and the moon twinkling high above.

“Where–?”

But Alastor wasn’t listening. His sharp claws ripped Lucifer’s shirt and coat into shreds in a matter of seconds, his red eyes gleaming with a hazy madness. 

Lucifer forced himself to shake off some of that beguiling smell. It was telling him to relax, to give in. It urged him to thread his hands through Alastor’s gorgeous hair, to stroke his antlers, to finally admit to his deepest, most shameful desire – that he had always wondered what Alastor might taste like.

But he still didn’t know what the hell was going on. 

“What – Alastor, wait – slow down!” He pushed Alastor back with a blast of angelic grace. Alastor hissed, his eyes still crazed with need, and came for him again. This time, Lucifer grabbed him by the shoulders and flung him into a nearby spring. 

Alastor spluttered as he surfaced, shaking some of the water off his head. “What the hell was that for?” His voice was still distorted, but at least he was using his words again. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Lucifer demanded. 

Alastor pulled himself out of the spring and flung his drenched coat off with a bitter grumble, revealing his bare forearms and – to Lucifer’s endless delight – a little tuft of a tail. In the gentle light of the moon, Lucifer could see every ripple of his toned abs, every flex of his broad chest beneath the wet shirt that clung to him like a second skin.

The hazy smell grew stronger. Breathe through it. Don’t lose control. “What did you say?”

“It's my mating season,” Alastor snarled, meeting his eyes again. There was something hypnotic in their scarlet gleam. Lucifer found himself taking a step forward before he caught himself. “Every couple of years, my pheromones go into overdrive. I – no, my body – sends out signals to any potential mates. I usually wait it out.” He shuddered, his jaw flexing. “It’s never found anyone before.” 

A sizzle of pride and pure, clean joy cut through the haze filling Lucifer’s brain. So Alastor had never done this with anyone before? 

(Was he special?)

“So what are you saying – that you’re horny?” 

Alastor blurred – and suddenly he was in front of him, ripping the rest of Lucifer’s tattered shirt from his body. He yelped, but Alastor ignored him. 

“If that’s how you want to think about it,” he growled, then he dug his teeth into the crook of Lucifer’s neck. 

A jolt of intense pain that turned into searing pleasure roared through Lucifer. As if in a trance, he grabbed one of Alastor’s antlers and wound his other hand into the softness of his hair. Then he pulled, hard, forcing Alastor to let go with an audible hiss. 

“None of that,” he snapped.

Alastor grinned, and it was sharp enough to cut him to the core. “No need to play coy with me, your Majesty. The thing about these pheromones – they work both ways. And they never work on the unwilling.” 

The quick flash of heat (shameshameshame) was invitation enough for Alastor to pounce again. He rid Lucifer of his belt and his pants just as quickly as he did his shirt. Lucifer, not to be outdone, showed Alastor he had a pair of claws on his own and slashed Alastor’s entire outfit in half with one slice of his nail. It wasn’t a clean cut – a thin line of red welled up on Alastor’s chest, his stomach, and his right thigh. 

Lucifer was about to apologize, but the words died in his throat when Alastor dipped his finger into his own blood and sucked it clean.

“Want to try?” He asked in his trademark sing-song. 

Lucifer surged forward. Their mouths met in a clash of teeth and tongue, and Lucifer felt himself go even harder at the dark taste of spice and sin on his lips. 

“You drive me crazy,” he whispered when they broke apart. 

“My dear, I am crazy,” Alastor chuckled. “What did you expect?” 

Then Lucifer grazed his upper thigh, perilously close to his dick, and Alastor cut himself off with a gasp. That strange need clouded his eyes, and once again, Alastor’s primal self took over. He roared, pushing Lucifer onto the ground, their bare legs tangling as he pushed his hand between their legs. 

The haze swirled, that sweet, opium smell wiping out the rest of Lucifer’s good sense as Alastor gripped his naked cock with his claws. He groaned, lifting his hips obligingly towards the deer to give him a better angle. That groan turned into a cry when he felt Alastor smearing his own precum on the head of his dick and pushing it against his entrance. 

More, his heart thudded. More. More. 

He must have been saying it out loud without realizing it, because Alastor grinned. “As you wish.” 

Then he pushed in. Lucifer screamed as he felt Alastor’s hardness invading him, penetrating him, stretching him to the limit. But with it, he felt the bond between them swell, take on a new shape. The hatred was still there, yes, but there was something else now too. 

And through it all, the same sentence kept running over and over in his fevered brain: Alastor’s never taken another mate.

Alastor’s eyes rolled back, his back arching as he let loose a low moan. His body was shaking, and his hips were moving as if he was a man possessed. That smell was thick in the air, drugging them both as the pleasure washed over them, coming faster and faster until finally –

The explosion that ripped through Lucifer was like nothing he had ever felt before. He had been there for the birth of the cosmos, for the first steps of mankind, for everything that had come before and that would come after. He had thought he had experienced all the firsts in the world. 

But this…

He clutched Alastor, who was still trembling from the force of the release. Unlike Lucifer, who was basking in the afterglow, he looked…unsure of himself. Now that the pressing drive of the mating call had disappeared, he looked lost, as if he’d been dumped in the middle of a strange land with no map and no compass. 

“Don’t go,” Lucifer whispered, eyeing the strange shadows that were bubbling by his feet. “Stay here with me.”

Alastor wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Lucifer didn’t make him. But he did hold his hand. 

“We can work it out together. Just stay.”

Alastor didn’t say anything. But the shadows disappeared, and the two of them sat in the stillness and the quiet of the bayou.

He didn’t let go of his hand.

[jjmaybankssurfergf]

Behind Enemy Lines….

Topper’s sister x JJ Maybank, Enemies to Lovers

requested by: beach bunny @chimindity 🐰🏝️

Warnings: Smut, smut, smut, smut, mean jj, cursing, reader being a rich brat a little bit, jj being balls deep in reader, mention of blood nothing bad though don’t worry I can’t write that dark, thaaaaaats all I got pretty sure

AU: first time writing about mean or like dark jj I dunno how I did honestly

JJ and Topper hated each other, and that’s how you and jj became enemies. You guys were just annoyed with each other all the time, so you tried to keep your distance. BUT that was almost impossible too because jj was hired by your mom to do maintenance on your property, which annoyed you even more, because you would have to see him Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays.

It was a Friday, you were inside drinking a smoothie you made. Topper was out at the country club and your mom was working, which meant you had the house to yourself. Well almost to yourself, JJ was working outside fixing the garage door, you had accidentally back into when you forgot to open it.

You were just listening to the sounds of a screw driver and loud noises and occasionally jj grunting every so often as he was trying to fix it. You purse your lips bored as you sucked on your smoothie only wearing some shorts and loose shirt, while you sat on the barstool. You decided to go into the garage to see what exactly how jj was doing, you open the door peeking in, seeing a shirtless jj his tanned, meaty chest glistening from sweat and working in the garage

“Hey how’s it going?” You say walking over to jj, who was standing onto of a chair looking at the motor that works the garage door from opening and closing “Not good” he says annoyed that your in here bugging him “you know you don’t have to be rude about it, I was just asking” you say giving him attitude back “Why are you in here, don’t you have some Kooky boyfriend to entertain you or anything?” you roll your eyes of course he would ask if you have some look boyfriend “For your information I do not have some kooky boyfriend I am single, and I’m just trying to keep you company”

JJ looks down at you smiling and biting the inside of his cheek shaking his head and rolling his eyes “so sorry if I offended you princess, all I was doing is just making an assumption” jj reply's in a sarcastic tone, stepping off of the stool and heading over to the table where his tool box was “you know it’s rude to assume things, your lucky my mom even hired you, for all your worth you could work at the god damn auto shop on the cut, making shit for cash and living with your deadbeat dad” that was where jj had drawn the line and whipped around grabbing you by the wrist “You might wanna choose your next few words wisely before I do something your not gonna like sweetheart”

You scowl at him, taking your wrist away from him and jj turns back towards his work bench. You start walking away back towards the door “He’s gonna end up just like his dad” you say under your breath, jj turns his head looking over at you and stomping over angrily shoving your front up against the wall

“Ow” you whimper as he pushes you roughly

“Shut the fuck up, now here’s how this is gonna go. You tell me what petty shit you said under your breath, or I’m gonna force you by shoving my dick up your cunt. No which one is it gonna be?” you shake your head no, not giving in to him and jj keep your wrists behind you back “Fine, but just remember you asked for this” he warns ripping your shorts off “Wait! Wait no!”

“Too late I’m already hard so I’m fucking you either way” jj grabs you by your hair moving you over to his work bench and forcing your front down on it harshly causing you to wince

JJ quickly unbuckles his belt, taking it off and restraining your hands with it and jj then unbuttons his shorts, pooling the down to where they pooled around his ankles and then pushed down his boxers exposing his hard angry cock, standing and leaking with precum, you turned you head looking back and then your eyes widen in fear, and you try wiggling free. “Stop fucking moving or it’s going up your ass. Got it?” He says grabbing your hair tugging on it, you whimper as his hand cups your pussy feeling the heat radiating off it and feeling how wet you were “Naughty, Naughty girl, just a slut for being dominated huh?” His fingers rub up and down your slit and feel your entrance slightly pushing you in causing you to whine “No no please jj dont” you whine shaking your head and he slaps your ass causing you to jump “Don’t tell me what to fucking do”

JJ immediately shoves his cock inside of you, feeling how tight you were he groans trying not to bust his load, as he stretches your tight virgin cunt. You cry out as he pounds into you not giving you enough time to adjust, jj glances down where your connected and sees a crimson red tint on his dick and smirks “Looks like I just de-flowered you princess” and continues to pound into you, the mushroom tip of his cock kissing your cervix every time he thrusted in “O-oh god” “Nah it’s just me darling” jj replys smirking

You whine gripping the table, you felt a tight knot forming in your stomach and you whimper which turned into a moan as he kept his pace. JJ reached down stroking your clit a little teasing you only to put you on edge. “JJ, I-I think I’m gonna c-cum” you whimper. JJ took his hand away gripping onto your hips picking up speed “Nah, I don’t think so. See spoiled little rich brats don’t deserve to cum” he reply’s in a snarky tone. You whine and jj slaps your ass “Don’t fucking whine at me, brats don’t get rewarded.”

He roughly pushed your legs farther getting closer, his cock pushed deeper and you gasped. You felt yourself on the edge of finishing and your vision went a little hazy from being so cock-drunk. You went dumb after that and jj chuckled smirking “ya goin’ dumb on me already princess? Can’t this cunt take anymore huh?” He teases and reaches his hand down to your clit rubbing fast hard circles making you cry out your legs shaking “J-JJ I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” You moan loudly and he rocks your hips still focused on your clit “C’mon y/n cum for me, cum for daddy” you walls squeeze him tightly and you cum hard around his cock, your legs went weak and your head dropped against the table, as you were still seeing stars from your climax. As your orgasm crashed through you like a freight train it triggered JJ’s orgasm and he let out a strangled moan stilling inside of you, shooting his load deep inside you, he felt you go weak in the knees and held you up so you wouldn’t fall.

JJ looked at you seeing your worn state and his eyes softened. He unwrapped your hands from his belt a rubbed them softly kissing your cheek, be gentle. You whimper looking back at him and he connects your lips, intertwining your hands “C’mere lemme take care of ya” he pulls your shorts and panties up fixing you up a little then picking you up and sitting down on the chair holding you close to him “I’m sorry I was rough for your first time” he says brushing strands of hair from your face “Don’t be. It was great I really liked it” you reply clinging onto him, he kisses you again “I’m gonna take you out, Tomorrow, around like 7:00 or something I’m taking you to dinner, and we’re gonna get burgers, fries, milkshakes, and have like a cheesy romantic dinner”

You laugh “alright, I’ll go out with you then” jj nods his head, kissing your cheek “Good”

Taglist: @kraekat29 @chimindity @nemesyaaa

@rafeslittleangel

[youunravelme]

to all the girls you loved before part 4

author's note: thank you so much for your patience, if i'm being honest, this part was really hard to write because of the hype last part got. i don't want to disappoint anyone and i think i let that fear dictate how long it took me to write this. BUT thank you all for all the love and kindness you showed me as you read this series, i'm so excited to keep writing because of you! again, if you asked to be tagged and you aren't listed below, chances are tumblr wouldn't let me. :(

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, very volatile/toxic relationship

day thirty-four

bile rose in the back of your throat.

was that the proper reaction to finding out that the guy your roommate had been fucking for the past month was your boyfriend? it didn't feel like an overreaction.

you headed back to your room, hands closed over your ears to drown out the moans and groans coming from across the hallway. you slammed your bedroom door and started grabbing shit out of drawers and throwing it into a duffle bag you found on your floor.

the moans stopped and through the thin walls, you could hear mumbling.

"don't try to be considerate now!" you shouted. shuffling was heard on the other side of the wall before your door was pushed open, jason standing in a pair of boxers with hickeys all down his chest. natalie came in a second later dressed in one of jason's favorite shirts.

you would know, you used to wear it all the time until it went missing.

"you--" but natalie cut herself off. maybe it was the look on her face or the presence of the divine interfering on her behalf before you smacked her.

"where are you going?" jason asked.

"i'm not sure yet, but i'm not staying here any second longer." you stood to your full height with the duffle bag in your hand. as if a switch flipped, jason smirked and crossed his arms over his chest.

"you're not going anywhere."

you scoffed. "what?" because surely you heard wrong.

"did i stutter?"

this fucker.

"i'm leaving." you made a move towards the bedroom door, but his frame blocked it. "jason, i'm not fucking around."

"neither am i. we need to talk about this. and you're not going anywhere until we do."

"i think your moans said enough. now move."

"or what?" your phone rang and mat's contact picture lit up the screen. "of course it's him. why is he calling?" jason sneered.

you answered without acknowledging jason. "hello?"

"hey, you never texted me to say you got in alright. you okay?"

you looked between your roommate and soon-to-be ex boyfriend. "keep the car running, i'll be down in a few minutes."

a pause. "do i need to come up?"

"no, i'll be down in a few." your eyes never left jason's.

"stay on the phone," mat said.

"okay."

"tell mat to mind his business," jason said. "this is between us."

you kept the phone in your hand. "you can't tell me what to do. especially in an apartment where you don't pay rent."

he looked almost dumbfounded at your boldness, so you took advantage of that lack of awareness to shove your way past the both of them.

you made it to the living room before jason was shouting after you down the hallway. "we're not done here."

before you could stop yourself, you whipped around, filled with rage for what felt like the tenth time that night. "yes, we are. this relationship? over. this conversation? over."

in a flash, jason was in front of you, ripping the duffle bag out of your hands and tossing it down the hall, away from you.

and the realization hit you right as jason started screaming at expletives again.

fuck the bag, you needed to get out before he did something to you.

so you bolted, running towards the front door, flinging it open, and sprinting towards the stair case. if you had a clearer head, you might've waited for the elevator, but you wouldn't put it past jason to run out in the hallway with nothing but his boxers on.

you sprinted down the stairs, nearly slipping a few times, until you got outside.

mat immediately caught your eye and hung up the phone before jumping out of the car. "are you alright?" he asked. you couldn't speak, only nodded and let him open the car door for you.

not even the traffic sounds could fill the silence in the car.

from the corner of your eye, you could see mat glancing at you before turning his attention back to the road. "do you wanna talk about it?"

you tried to speak, but it was like the events of the night caught up to you. the words got stuck in your throat. "i--"

"i'm sorry," mat said. "i shouldn't have asked. let's get you back to my apartment and we'll sort things out there, okay?"

unable to say anything, you just nodded.

mat said before reaching over and clapping a hand on your knee. "it's gonna be okay. i'm not gonna let anything happen to you, alright?"

you nodded again.

mat took his hand back and for a moment, you contemplated reaching over for it, thankful for the way it grounded you even just briefly, but ultimately decided against it. you might not have a lot of friends, but you can guarantee you've never held their hands before.

the rest of the trip was spent in silence.

mat parked the car and immediately got out while you sat there to take a moment to breathe. he gently got ella out and slung the diaper bag over his shoulder before opening your door. "i'm all for taking a deep breath, but i would advise against it in a car at night."

you managed a weak chuckle through your tears and got out.

the doorman greeted the three of you with a small smile on his face as you walked into the lobby. he didn't ask any questions when he saw the tear tracks on your cheeks.

mat led you up to his apartment. he shuffled ella around in his arms to try to reach his keys, but when she started stirring he froze.

"would you get my keys out of my pocket?" he whispered.

you nodded solemnly before asking where his keys were.

"back left."

you carefully put your hand in his back left pocket, being sure not to touch any unsavory parts of him. when you retrieve his keys, you bypass his free hand entirely, choosing to unlock the door yourself.

mat followed behind you, shutting the door with his foot and locking it with his free hand. "i'm gonna put her down real quick. and then i'll get you something to change into."

"you don't have to--"

"i'd be a horrible friend if i made you sleep in jeans. it's no big deal, i promise."

and with that, he disappeared down the hallway while you stood in the living room processing what the hell had just happened. it seemed like the full weight of what had actually occurred just thirty minutes prior finally hit you like a tidal wave. there was no telling how long you stood there crying before being you were pulled into a firm chest.

"it's okay," mat said with a hand running up and down your back. "whatever happened is over now." he held you until your hiccuping cries stopped. you nodded against his chest before pulling away and wiping at your face. "i left the clothes on the guest bed if you wanna go get changed. the shower is free as well."

you mumbled a small thanks and headed down the hall.

on the bed was a pair of grey sweatpants; thankfully, with drawstrings, and a blue islanders tee shirt. you grabbed the items and headed to the bathroom, ready to wash away the events of the night.

as soon as the water was hot, you were undressing and stepping into the shower. just like all the other times you've showered, your mind was filled with reflections of the day. how jason screamed at you in public, how humiliated you felt, the sick feeling of coming home and finding his clothes strewn about, the nearly paralyzing fear of looking at him and realizing he was a completely different person now.

it all added up, the sly comments from your roommate, the emotional distance between you and jason, the accusing looks your roommate would give you whenever you so much as hugged him in front of her. when did it happen? how long had it been going on? was it revenge for how much time you were away and at mat's place working? was it--

wait.

you listened closely and heard talking vaguely over the fall of water from the shower. quickly, you turned off the shower when you heard the voices escalate. you dried off, pulling on mat's clothes with record speed before opening the bathroom door and letting the steam out.

almost immediately after, you were wishing you'd stayed in the bathroom.

because jason was at the door with a car seat in his hands, looking as furious as he was earlier in the evening.

"what the fuck?" he yelled as soon as he saw your form. "you slept with him already?"

"if you're asking if i took a page out of your book, the answer is no, jason." you walked into the living room and stood behind mat.

"why would i believe you? you're literally wearing his clothes!" he yelled, gesturing at your frame.

"i'm gonna tell you this once," mat started, voice low and dark. "lower your voice because if you wake my daughter, we're gonna have even more problems than we do right now."

"fuck off, barzal. this is between me and my girlfriend."

"ex," you said. "ex-girlfriend. we're done."

"what--"

"i don't know how you thought you could fuck natalie and maintain this relationship; but even if you didn't fuck my roommate, it would still be over because of the way you embarrassed me tonight."

"so you get revenge by slutting around--"

mat took half a step forward. "i would find a different word to use, if i were you."

"or what, barzal? you gonna fight me? i've seen the game you played against the rangers, i'm not impressed. you start shit but never finish it."

"kind of like our sex life," you mumbled before you could stop yourself.

fury washed over jason's face; you'd never seen a look so intense, but it looked right at home on him. jason took a step forward. "what did you say?" he asked darkly.

mat quickly shot his hand up and held jason where he was. "back up."

almost instantly, jason smacked the hand away. "you can't tell me what to do."

"i can when it's my home you're trying to barge into."

jason looked at him before turning his attention back to you. "you're gonna let him speak to me like this?" when you didn't say anything, he got angrier, which you didn't think was possible. he slammed his fist against the doorframe which had you flinching backwards and mat moving between the two of you.

"you have two options," mat said lowly. "either leave, or i call security and have you escorted out."

jason guffawed, if you could see him through mat, you might've seen the way he face relaxed, like he just realized he lost. you heard the thump of him dropping the car seat. "you're gonna regret this."

"have fun with what's-her-name," mat said before grabbing the car seat and shutting the door in jason's face.

the second the door locked, mat was dropping the car seat and pulling you into his chest. you weren't sure when you started crying and shaking again, this time you weren't sure if it was from anger or devastation.

"it's okay," he said. "it's over. you don't have to deal with him anymore." you nodded against his chest. "let's get you to bed and we can worry about everything else tomorrow, okay?" he pulled back just far enough to look you in the eye. "i need to hear you say it."

"okay," you whispered.

he looked satisfied enough to pull away and guide you down the hall where you knew your room would be.

your room.

when did you start thinking of it as that? you broke up with your boyfriend less than an hour ago and were not considering another bedroom (that hasn't been offered to you) as your own?

you yawned. it was too late to be doing deep dive contemplation, especially after the night you had.

mat stopped in front of your door, leaning on the doorframe like it was meant to hold him up. "i have practice tomorrow and then i'll be back and we can workout a time to get your things. does that sound okay?"

you nodded again. "thanks, mat."

"anytime."

you shut the door and stared at it for a moment. part of you wondered if mat was doing the same on the other side.

day thirty-five

you woke up without an alarm clock but your body was still tired. the exhaustion of the unveiled truth was a weight you weren't used to carrying.

gingerly, you rose from the bed and checked the time on your phone, relieved to see it was still early and that you hadn't inconvenienced mat by oversleeping.

mat.

he'd stuck up for you, let you sleep over, someone he hadn't really known but for a month. was he that kind or just naive?

you didn't have time to dwell on it.

you walked down the hall and into the living room when you heard music playing. there was no telling what could come from the bluetooth speaker when mat's phone was connected, this time it seemed to be some random pop song blasting through the kitchen. when you rounded the corner, you saw mat putting ingredients into a blender while ella bounced and flapped her arms around to the music in her high chair.

"morning!" mat said over his shoulder. "there's frozen waffles in the freezer if you want something for breakfast."

"they're not like...disgusting protein waffles, are they?" you asked.

mat stopped what he was doing and turned so he could smile at you properly. "nope, good ole unhealthy eggo waffles."

"i appreciate it." you made a move to walk towards the fridge when you stopped. "and for what it's worth, i'm sorry, about last night."

mat tilted his head like a confused golden retriever. "what did you do? if you pissed on the sheets, i have in unit laundry that will fix that problem."

you couldn't help it, a laugh burst straight from your chest and out of your mouth before you could stop it. if your eyes weren't squeezed shut from the laughing, you would've seen the soft smile adorning mat's face for getting that reaction.

"you know why," you said once you'd calmed down.

mat shrugged. "as far as i'm concerned, you didn't do anything wrong. that's all on him." he took two steps towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "and if it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay as long as you need to."

the both of you stared at each other without saying a word, neither wanting to interrupt whatever peace was going on between the two of you.

ella took that opportunity though, to throw her apple sauce on the ground. the sound alone had you both snapping out of whatever trance you were in.

"well," mat said.

"yeah," you mumbled.

mat moved around you, squeezing your shoulder once. "i have to go get ready, but i should be back soon to help you get your stuff from your old place."

"mat, you don't have to--"

he kept walking. "sorry what was that? can't hear you!"

despite yourself, you smiled.

most of the morning went by without a hitch, you didn't even shed a tear! which you considered to be progress and maybe a sign that you weren't as torn up about your breakup as you should've been.

but you didn't have time to unpack that thought.

it wasn't until around 11 that you got a text from an unknown number that you were considering throwing your phone down the stairwell. but because curiosity got the better of you, you checked your phone anyway.

hey! this is sydney martin, we met last night. mat mentioned that you'd need help moving your stuff and i was offering my help as well at matt's.

below her text notification was one from mat.

hope you don't mind i passed your number along to sydney. my plan was to get tito to help me move your stuff, but we're both caught up doing interviews and press coverage until this afternoon. didn't think you'd want to chance running into him after a workday.

you texted sydney back first, finding it easier to set up times to leave and meet up at your old place than to reply to the thoughtfulness of mat's text.

hey sydney! you wrote. i would love all the help i can get, when would you two be able to meet me at my old apartment?

which is how you found yourself standing outside your old building with ella strapped to your chest, waiting for sydney and matt to arrive.

you heard your name being called and looked over your shoulder to see sydney and matt in workout clothes next to a....

uhaul?

in the city?

"hope you don't mind," sydney started. "mat said you had some stuff but we weren't sure how much, so my husband rented a truck just in case."

without even thinking about it, your eyes started tearing up. in one night, you'd lost pretty much the only people you had in the city, but had somehow gained two more in their absence.

"you didn't have to..." you trailed off.

matt, as if sensing the tears that were seconds away from leaking out of your eyes, took a step closer. "we've all been in shitty situations, no one should have to deal with it alone. besides any friend of my wife's is a friend of mine."

the very words left you giving him a watery smile. "thank you."

sydney approached you and wrapped you in a hug. "no need to thank us."

when you pulled away, the martins pretended they didn't see you wiping at your eyes.

"alright," you clapped. "it's gonna take some time, but hopefully with the three of us, we can get it done quickly."

the four of you headed inside with ella dozing off against your chest. matt followed behind you and sydney, carrying unopened cardboard boxes he had leaning against the truck.

"so i was thinking," matt said once you got to the front door of the apartment. "you and syd can pack up the boxes and i'll do the heavy lifting out to the truck, hopefully mat and tito will be done soon and they can help as well."

you and sydney nodded before heading back to your bedroom while matt played with ella in the living room.

"i asked him before we got here if he could give us some space," sydney explained once you were in your old bedroom.

"i appreciate it."

sydney started at your dresser and opened one box before neatly placing your clothes inside. "are you okay?"

you shrugged and started on the closet, tossing clothes inside the box without a care. "i'll be fine."

"mat didn't say much, if anything, if that's what you're worried about. i just saw how you were when what's-his-name was raging at the game yesterday."

you paused over a shirt that used to belong to him before tossing it aside. "he cheated on me with my roommate. and he wasn't happy when i tried to leave last night. tried to keep me here to 'talk about things.'"

sydney looked at you but didn't say anything for a moment. she let your words hang in the air like a foot poised over a landmine. "does mat know that?"

you shrugged. "he was on the phone with me for part of it but i don't know if he heard the near hostage attempt."

"did he come up the stairs and take care of things?" sydney asked, tone very serious. you didn't think it was possible for someone as joyful as her to look as grim as she did.

you shook your head. "no, he waited in the car."

"then he must not've heard, you would've known if he had." you weren't sure what face you were making but it must've been alarming because sydney quickly backtracked. "not that he'd get violent or anything! mat isn't scary, he's just..." she paused, as if searching for the right word. "...protective."

"i don't think that applies here, i've only known mat a month."

up until that point, you didn't know it was possible to hear an eye roll, but sydney somehow managed it. "oh please, like that matters here. anyone who meets you adores you. take me for example, i've only known you for twenty-four hours and i'd fight an overgrown man child for you." she reached over and placed a hand on top of yours. "everyone who meets you, loves you. it would be hard not to."

you nodded and went back to shoving clothes in boxes, too scared to look her in the eye just in case she saw the tears you were barely holding back.

an hour later, with most of your things in boxes, mat and tito showed up. ella, (who was sitting in your lap on the couch while matt martin continued to take boxes down to the truck, screamed and flapped her arms at the sight of her father and his best friend.

"ella bean!" tito called before beating mat over to you and scooping up the baby. mat didn't even attempt to conceal his annoyance, rolling his eyes before assessing the boxes littering the floor.

"is this all?" he asked.

you nodded. "syd and i have to sell my bed frame but other than that, we're good."

"we can bring it back to our apartment so you don't have to come back here."

you froze, and from the corner of your eye, you saw tito stop bouncing ella to look at the both of you while sydney found herself scrolling on her phone.

our apartment.

it hadn't even been twenty-four hours and he was already referring to the place as half yours.

it should've made you freak out, shut down.

but you were just relieved.

"i don't know if we'll have enough room," you said.

mat scoffed. "we'll make room. or martin, tito, and i will come back and grab it today. but you're not coming back here once we leave. not when your ex could show up at anytime."

you were still surprised that jason hadn't arrived. it seemed in his nature to hover, especially after he tried to hold you hostage last night.

"okay," you nodded.

he pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "i'll go talk to matt about making room and then we'll grab your bed frame." mat scooped up two boxes with ease and turned on his heel to go back down the stairs.

"i can help--"

but mat made a noise in the back of his throat. "sit down and chill." and left the room.

"that was considerate of him," sydney noted when she was sure he was out of earshot.

"which part?" tito commented. "when he referred to his place as yours? or the time where he denied your help so you could relax?"

"i'm sure mat does this for all the people in his life," you said.

tito scoffed. "when i was moving apartments, i asked for his help and he told me to 'fuck off and hire movers.'"

"i'm sure that has absolutely nothing to do with how close you two are and everything to do with you being a millionaire," sydney replied.

as if on cue, your phone rang, mat's first and last name filling up your screen. "hello?"

"tell beau to give ella to you and bring the rest of the boxes downstairs."

tito must've heard because he was groaning and walking ella over to you without saying a word.

"he's on his way down," you said.

"thanks," mat replied before hanging up.

the hard work was done by mid afternoon. and with the truck loaded up, none of you saw a reason to stay much longer. matt martin agreed to drive the truck back to the apartment you currently shared with mat. you'd ride with mat and tito (and subsequently ella) since you took the subway to your old place while syd drove her car.

as soon as you got back to your new place, the boys were unloading the truck while you and syd put ella down for a long overdue nap before taking a look at your room and trying to figure out where to put things.

"it doesn't all have to be done in one day," she said. "but the faster it's done, the easier it'll be for you to move on from this." you nodded to the sound of the boys dropping boxes in living room. "you're handling this remarkably well for someone who just ended a long term relationship."

you avoided looking at her, instead focusing on your bed spread. "things haven't been okay for awhile," you said like that was explanation enough.

it seemed to do the job for sydney because she didn't ask anymore questions.

not too long after everything was moved in, sydney, matt, and tito left with the promise of visiting soon. syd said she'd be by without any hesitation if you needed her.

you just smiled and accepted her hug. but as soon as the front door shut, your shoulders sagged and you fell into the couch like a rag doll.

if your eyes weren't laser focused on the floor, you would've seen mat's mouth open and shut a few times as if searching for the right words until he finally settled on some.

"you did it, one of the hardest parts is over."

you grunted. "what could be harder than this?"

mat fell into the couch beside you. "tomorrow, and the day after that, and the days that follow until you get used to him not being around anymore. and the sting of betrayal finally stops hurting."

you couldn't help yourself, you laughed.

"what?" he sat up. "i thought i was giving sage advice!"

your eyes met and you could see he wasn't offended, there was a gleam of humor in his eyes that reminded you of boys in elementary school who regularly got in trouble for the hijinks they pulled during the school day.

"'the sting of betrayal?' really mat? are you an author or a hockey player?"

"can't i be both?"

"i've seen you get hit in the head with pucks and hockey sticks before. keep it up and i don't think you'll have much of a brain to write anything."

you expected a laugh, but he looked at you like he'd seen you in a new light. "i didn't get hit at my last game."

"i know," you laughed. "i was there, or have the concussions you've gotten affected your memory?"

"you watched my previous games?"

oh.

would that be embarrassing to admit? that you'd gone back and watched him play a little? you didn't even know why, you just found yourself on youtube rabbit hole during one of ella's naps.

"i mean," you shrugged. "i uh, i watched some highlights and whatever youtube had available. i felt bad for not knowing anything about how you play, especially after you--"

"you don't have to explain anything to me," he interrupted. "i just, i'm shocked is all, in the best way possible."

maybe it was the look in his eyes, or the soft smile gracing his lips. or maybe it was the fact that he was the first single man you'd ever met who'd shown you unrelenting kindness without any expectation of sleeping with you that had you saying the words you said next.

"i'm really glad i met you."

his smile grew. "i'm really glad too."

taglist:

@nicoleloveshockey @thg02 @fallinallincurls @bbbbruins @random-readers-world @sydsxoxo @jhughesy @whenmypartysover @sunflowerhood @spencereidbasis @icanfsplel @avareadsthings @zegraswrites @calermakar @heyitsmeimdead @kashee-h @bordelhoe

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Hiiii! I loved ur Hermes kid!

Could I ask for a male son of Dionysus x either Leo or nico?

Sorry if I got ya wrong and don’t feel pressured or anything!

Have a lovely day!

When there isn't a lot of info in an ask I kinda have to make the reader a personality so that it isn't too bland too read so sorry to y'all that aren't like this <3

Redecoration---Nico di Angelo x Son of Dionysus

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico had been glaring at the roof of skulls for a solid ten minutes, sort of hoping the hatred in his eyes would just poof them out of existence, when someone finally showed up. 

Apparently after an incident in the Aphrodite cabin, people weren’t allowed to just grab a bucket of paint and some new furniture to fuck around and find out, which was why Nico had been sent someone to help him fix the mess that was the Hades cabin.

Apart from the hundred skulls hot glue gunned to the rood, the beds were wooden coffins, the lamps were ancient looking chandeliers, and all of the walls were a dark ugly gray, like there was a serious mold problem. Now that he thought about it, the color might actually be a mold problem. 

“Never fear, goth! For I am here!” 

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Nico took a deep breath and turned around, obsidian eyes already narrowed with dislike as he took in the taller boy trotting over. He was holding a crate in his arms, filled with color swatches and chunks of fabrics, magazines sticking out of the top. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who needs redecorating, right?” The boy asked, already letting himself into the dim cabin that smelt of rich dark chocolate for some reason. “Yeah… no offense but we have to fix this, even if you're the wrong person.” 

Nico felt a sudden need to defend the atrocious carpet and bat shaped door knocker from this boy, who was wearing a maroon shirt picturing a glass of wine. “I was eight.” 

“No shame here, everyone makes bad decisions.”

There didn’t seem to be any point arguing with this boy, who had already dumped the box of supplies on one of the coffin bed lids, and was staring around at the dark cabin, hands on his hips. 

Nico just followed him inside, shoving his hands into the slightly ripped pockets of his aviator jacket. He peered into the cardboard box, which was promptly tipped out onto the ground. He watched with a frown as the son of Mr D sat on the carpet and began rifling through the empty notebooks and cut up magazines. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, scrapbooking? We can’t just start painting the walls yellow yet, you have to plan this stuff out, goth.” He said, as if it was obvious. Then he smirked. “You don’t like arts and crafts?”

Nico’s frown deepened, but he couldn’t let this mildly infuriating boy with surprisingly cool bracelets upstage him. “I love arts and crafts.”

“Whatever you say,” he hummed, and pulled out a leather bound book containing a few stickers and a strip of torn paper where a page had been pulled out. “Are you just gonna stand there in the corner and be grumpy?... That wasn’t sarcasm, you can if you want, I was just checking.”

Nico wasn’t an asshole, of course he was going to help. Still, he had to glare at the boy for that comment. Then he sat down and opened one of the magazines, which was featuring a life sized Barbie Dream House bed frame, fluffy pillows included. He flicked the page over with a grimace.

“So, what kinda vibe are we going for?”

“What?”

“I’m assuming you're sick of Dracula,” he said, waving his arms at the general doom and gloom around them. “So what aesthetic are we replacing it with?”

Nico didn’t want to admit he hadn’t planned this far into the venture, he’d really just been hoping he could repaint the walls, or maybe burn the whole thing down and start over. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Okay, well… I’m assuming you wanna keep it edgy, but seriously? A roof of skulls? You’re not a caveman. Maybe we should go with an Addams family style.” He shivered. “With less spiderwebs and disembodied hands. “ 

Ah, another gap in his modern education. “What’s an Addams family?” 

All Nico got in return was a gaping mouth and wide eyes. “How do you not- okay, I’m making you watch the entire timeline later, but for now we need to pick a color scheme.” 

Nico opened his mouth.

“Not black.”

Nico closed his mouth.

“Obviously there’ll be lots of black, but you need another color to fit with it, something dark and scary but colorful.” He pulled out a binder of color swatches, and flipped it open, skimming the pages of baby blues and lavenders. “Maybe dark green, or...”

“Red.” Nico said, peering over at the pages of ruby and scarlet. He pointed to the dark one, which had a little title below, ‘Blood red’. It was a little on brand, but it was better than ‘Crimson Tide’. 

“Oooh, nice. If we keep the walls black, and pull up the black carpet, there’ll be floorboards underneath.” He started to ramble, ripping a color swatch out of the binder and gluing it into the leather bound book. He glanced around at the musty cabin. 

“We can get a red rug for the middle of the cabin, and definitely new beds, but if we get Drew to refurbish the chandeliers they’ll look great. Oh, and the coffin bed frames could be a bookshelf if we get the mattress out and ask Nyssa to put some shelves in. Do you read? Because otherwise it’s sort of pointless. But so are the skulls on the roof, so…”

“You’re good at this.” 

It took Nico a moment to realize what he’d just blurted, and when he did the warmth was already in his cheeks. He’d only been a little caught up in watching the son of Dionysus’s eyes sparkle as he talked, pointing to different parts of the cabin, and somehow ruined it. “I mean, you just sound like you’ve, you know, done this a lot.”

The glimmer in their eye didn’t fade, they only grinned harder. “I have. A lot. It’s fun!”

“I suppose so,” Nico said, his lips twitching, and opened another magazine. He skipped a page on clawfoot bathtubs [There was already a white one with gold trim in the bathroom]. There was a large heart shaped mirror, He ignored that too, and found a simple bedframe, painted black. He held it out gingerly. “What about this one?”

“Yes! Good job.” He said, snipping it out of the magazine quickly, and sticking it next to a picture of a glass chandelier. “If you’ve got a simple bed, we could find a zebra print blanket, they always look good with black and red, as long as you don’t have, like, leopard print.”

“I thought you’d like leopard print?”

“And I thought you’d like skulls on your roof and coffin shaped beds,” he teased, with a smug little smile. Nico rolled his eyes, and picked out a strip of dark red fabric, passing it over.

He shook some glitter from his hands, there seemed to be piles of it in the box. “It’s a little over the top, but it’s not as bad as Jason’s cabin. It’s just rock. Everywhere. And a giant statue of his father.”

“Maybe he can be my next client,” he hummed, wiping glue from his fingers onto the molding carpet beneath them. A few shards of rounded glass were taped to the pages of the scrapbook, shining in the light of the dusty stained chandeliers. 

Nico wanted to object. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want the boy in front of him with glitter on his cheekbones and scissors in his hands to be cutting out pictures and teasing someone else. Instead he looked away, feeling something in his chest surge, something like fear. Fear of what, he didn’t know, but he cleared his throat and moved on.

“Don’t you have a sister too?”

The fear surged back forwards and Nico whipped around, his tone sharp. “What?”

“The roman one, I swear I saw her the other day, when Reyna visited to plan something or other.” he said casually, not seeing the pale tinge to Nico’s face. “With the overalls and the bulldog?”

“That’s Frank,” Nico said, his shoulder sinking with relief. 

“No, I’m pretty sure it was Hazel, she had those light up sketchers, with the little wheels on the bottom.” He said, somehow with a moon shaped sticker on his nose as he stuck little cut out paper skulls around the four page collage. 

“Frank’s the bulldog, he can turn into animals.” Nico had a strange urge to reach out and press the sticker on his nose, so instead he held his hands tightly in his lap. 

“Well, is there something Hazel’d like in the cabin when she visits? Does she read?” 

Nico sighed, and reached back for the magazine he discarded. He shook it open, cut outs of fluffy teddies falling into his lap. He found the page with the heart shaped bathroom mirror and ripped it out carefully. He could take a few hearts in his cabin if Hazel would like them. “This one.”

“Oh, that one's cute, Nyssa could totally make it.”

“I can ask Leo, he owes me a favor.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I haven't killed him yet.” 

                                  »»————-　★　————-««

Nico pressed down the front of his shirt. It was a black Camp Halfblood shirt, which he’d gotten from Piper after the Aphrodite cabin had started making shirts in other colors. Apparently there were only so many outfits you could wear with orange. 

Black goes with everything though, so it wasn’t a problem for him. 

He made his bed [closed the lid of the coffin] and dragged the last of the furniture not nailed to the ground out onto the little deck all of the cabins had. His decking only had a few pairs of shoes and a pot of dead roses he’d never bothered to keep alive. Maybe he’d have another go. 

Drew had taken the chandeliers already, to polish them and whatnot, so he only had to wait for his assigned son of Dionysus to show up, and they could start hunting for zebra print blankets and ripping skulls off the ceiling. What fun. 

When he still hadn’t shown up, Nico finished pulling all of the previously made bedding from the coffins and dumping it to the side so that Leo could turn it to a bookshelf [He could read, he just had dyslexia thank you very much], and then set off to the Dionysus cabin. It was easy to find, the only male god on the female side, with trelice’s of ivy decorating the whitewashed walls and a grumpy looking leopard snoozing on the purple swinging chair out the front of the small cabin.

He didn’t really want to knock, but he was sure someone would report him for standing around too menacingly if he just waited. He was saved from indecision when the door opened, revealing a tall sandy haired boy.

“You’re the goth, aren’t you?” Pollux sniffed, his nose red. “We can’t help today, but Butch is free, he can do some heavy lifting, and I’m sure Drew’ll criticize your style if you ask nicely enough.” 

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“I mean,” Pollux started, rubbing his eyes, and Nico only then realized he was still wearing his pajamas. They had an elongated cartoon owl sticking out of a doorway on it. “Skulls on the ceiling is a bit much, and everyone think you’re a vamp-”

“I meant with you guys, not my style,” Nico interrupted, his eyes narrowed.”

“Someone, decided to go visit Lou Ellen even though we all know she has a cold, and now I have it-” Pollux was cut off once again, his mockingly loud voice reaching the people inside. 

“I’m sorry I was concerned for my friend, she wanted soup!”

“She always wants soup!” Pollulx yelled back, and Nico moved past the older child of Dionysus, slipping off his shoes and letting himself into the cabin. 

There was nasally muttering behind him and the door slid shut. Nico peered around, and saw a bundle of fluffy blankets on a couch, only a sneezing head poking out the top. “Why did you get sick?”

“I mean it wasn’t really on purpose,” he mumbled back, wiping his nose with a tissue and sinking back into his cocoon. “I can’t help today, but-”

“I don’t care,” Nico started, and plopped down on the white couch, avoiding a deep red stain that could be alcohol or blood. He couldn’t tell. He also didn’t know how to say he’d rather sleep in the coffin again then have to spend the day with someone else. 

He sniffed, falling sideways a little on the couch and squinting at the square tv, which was showing some old cartoon about cavemen. “Mkay, well you should probably go if you don’t wanna get sick.”

Nico thought for a moment, trying not to focus on how much he wanted to scoop up the bundle of blankets in his arms far too skinny for that sort of stuff. “Why don’t we watch ‘an Adam family’?

He got watery wide eyes in return and a toothy grin, “wait really?”

“No. If I was making a joke it’d be funnier than that.”

“Okay, let’s watch it,” he said, hopping off the couch and moving to a box of DVDs with a lot of energy for someone so sick. “And it’s the Addams family, goth. You have to learn the basics of this culture if you’re gonna have coffin bookshelves.”

He fiddled around with the tv and then a grainy black and white intro came on, tinny music over the top. Nico watched as he danced to the theme tune in his blanket burrito, all the way back to the couch, where he landed, coughing and winded. Nico raised an eyebrow. “I could’ve done that, you’re sick.”

“Yeah yeah whatever,” he mumbled, tucking the fluffy socks on his feet up onto the white couch and wiggling with excitement. Nico watched him for a moment, and then turned back to the TV, feeling his lips twitch into a grin.

Duh duh duh duh, click click. Duh duh duh duh, click click.

Their creepy and they're kooky-

                                      »»————-　★　————-««

“Neeks, this mirror is so cute!”

“You’re welcome,” Nico muttered, rubbing his nose and rolling over, pulling the zebra print doona cover further over his head. 

He heard Hazel’s wheelie shoes click along the floorboards and she gilded out of the bathroom. When he peered out, her hair was in bunchies and she was pulling a purple hoodie over her head. “It’s so much nicer in here now, but how did you get sick redecorating?”

“Uhm..There was a lot of dust. I might be allergic?” 

The door slammed open, the clear chandelier hanging from the roof shaking as Nyssa trudged in, her work boots leaving mud on the fluffy blood red rug. She was holding the glitter covered scrapbook in her gloved hands. 

“So, I know I’m supposed to make everything in this, but what am I supposed to do with the polaroid of you kissing Mr D ‘s kid?”

                       »»————-　★　————-««

[enjoythesilentworld]

wilmon + paint me 👀

hello my dear! oh, you wanted a drabble? too bad. instead you get nearly 2k of unnecessary world building and musings about Simon's beauty.

(and surprisingly little spice, but i'll give this an M rating for nudity)

send me a prompt and i'll write a 'drabble'! (it will not be a drabble)

Wilhelm, looking to separate himself from his peers and secure a place in Florence’s Accademia delle Arti del Disegno, decides to find a new muse in the commonfolk. He finds Simon, a lowly leatherworker, in a bar in the slums.

Wilhelm surely looked out of place. Though he tried to dress down and muss up his hair a bit, there was something more that set apart the rich from the poor. Something about his paler skin, his lighter hair and smooth hands. The evidence he spent most days inside, well fed. Not working in the fields or a stuffy forge. They may call it high times, a renaissance for art and culture, but the divide was clear in this bar.

It was dark and drab and the wine tasted like shit, but Wilhelm was not there for that. He was there for the type of regulars that frequented this establishment.

All day every day Wilhelm was surrounded by pompous assholes, dressed immaculately in imported silks and feathered hats. The art that followed was all the same. Soft, aristocratic women draped over chaise lounges and round, pale men posed with their swords. It was a depiction of 17th century Florence, sure, but it did not show the rest. The underbelly. The real people who lived and worked and sweat and bled and died in the city, slaving away for the profit of the rich. Babies in buckets and shit on the streets. Wilhelm was tired of the glimmering image. People needed to see the real thing. He would be the one to show them all, to show the damned Accademia in particular. They would all see. Commonfolk could be beautiful, too, he was sure of it.

As he scanned the bar, hiding his grimace at the wine, his point was quickly proven. Across the way, there was a man bent over a goblet, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ever the artist, Wilhelm noted the way the light from the nearby lantern lit his tan skin in a warm glow, how it highlighted the frizz around his deep brown curls. The shadow from the man’s face, cast across the wood of the bar, outlined his beautiful profile, the sloped nose and pursed lips. His shirt had nearly no sleeves and was ripped in some places, stained in others, though he wore a nice, simple leather vest over it. He looked distraught, if not a little pissed off, and when he lifted the goblet to drink, his throat bobbed with the motion, muscles shifting as he swallowed. He also was the most exquisite human Wilhelm had ever seen.

He found his feet carrying him over before the man could even lower his cup.

“Hello,” Wilhelm said calmly, placing his own cup on the bar and staring down at the man, who, looking startled that anyone was talking to him, glared right back.

“What do you want?” His voice was like summer rain, and an array of light purples and blues swirled through Wilhelm’s mind as he spoke, though the tone was fiery.

“I’d like to offer you a job.”

The man glanced around the bar, almost looking nervous.

“I can tell you're not from around here,” he murmured in a low voice, “but this is not that type of establishment.”

“Oh, I—” Wilhelm stuttered, swallowing his blush at the insinuation, “No. Not like— A real job. I am a painter. I would like you to pose for me.”

A rough chuckle bubbled from the man’s chest, and he lifted an eyebrow, tentative eyes roaming over Wilhelm. He scoffed, “You want to paint me?”

“Yes. I can pay.”

“How much?”

“Twenty per sitting.”

“Thirty.”

Wilhelm paused. Now closer, he admired the man’s slim fingers and calloused palms, the cut muscles off his arms and the tilt of his eyes. His lips were perfectly symmetrical though there was a scar on his cheek and a grit about his demeanor that said everything Wilhelm needed to know. All inspections necessary before truly employing someone as a model. He was like nothing and no one he'd ever seen before.

“Deal.”

The man, Simon, as Wilhelm had learned, showed up to his apartment on the north side of the river one week later.

They had talked late into the night and agreed on a tentative business partnership. Simon would pose for Wilhelm for their agreed upon payment per sitting at least once a month, more often if needed for a larger painting. There would be sets and props and Simon assured Wilhelm he would have no issue holding one pose for many hours. Wilhelm was sure he would not either, based on the state of his arms and legs and the sliver of chest he had had seen.

At the door, he greeted Simon warmly, offering food and wine, both of which Simon declined, slipping past him. He smelled of leather and oil, his skin was just as smooth when it brushed against Wilhelm’s bare arm as it had the night before when, slightly deep in his cups, Wilhelm had forgotten himself and placed a hand on Simon’s arm. Simon had met his eye then glanced out towards the bar, a warning. Not a denial.

Wilhelm busied himself setting up while Simon roamed his home, which was really one large room. It was a warm morning for spring, so Wilhelm had tied back the curtains and opened the windows, flooding the room with light and the soft sounds of the city below. There were more painting supplies and easels than pieces of real furniture, but Wilhelm was quite content with it all. His lone mattress, piled with blankets and pillows, was plenty for him. All he longed to do was paint, the one thing that worked well enough to quiet his mind for some time.

He arranged his stool and easel just so, then checked his paints again. On the canvas, there was a loose sketch. This one was a commission for some noble lord, supposedly a friend of the Medici Family. Wilhelm had been sure to charge him extra for claiming that friendship, as he had never heard of the man before, nor had he seen him at any of the Medici’s dinner parties. Still, the man would surely faint if he knew Wilhelm was using a commoner as a model for this painting. That pleased him.

Wilhelm cleared his throat. “Shall we?”  

Simon turned from where he had been appraising a pile of Wilhelm’s works in the back corner and nodded once. With a careful hand, he accepted the clothing Wilhelm offered and began to undo the loops on his vest.

As more skin was revealed, he felt unable to turn away, and Simon’s eyes locked on him even as he slowly undressed. Wilhelm spoke quickly, “Would you be okay if we tried something different today?”

Fingers froze on leather and Wilhelm tore his eyes away from Simon’s chest, meeting his intense gaze.

“What’s that?”

Wilhelm glanced back at his easel, at the sketched-out commission. He had plenty of time to work on it, really. Simon could come back next week and sit for it then.

“I was thinking,” Wilhelm began slowly, knowing he was toeing a delicate line. “If this agreement is to my understanding, you may very well be posing for me for a good while.”

Simon nodded, hands still hesitating halfway through undoing his vest. Wilhelm swallowed dryly and prayed this was not a mistake.

“Perhaps,” he continued, “I should spend some time getting to know your body first. As I will need to get comfortable with all its forms and curves for future works.”

When something crossed Simon’s face, it became evident that Wilhelm was going to have to be state it out clearly. There was a challenge in that open, innocent look.

“Perhaps, you may like to pose nude for me, so I may… familiarize myself.”

“Familiarize yourself,” Simon said flatly, though the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Very well.”

Unable to believe it, and not wanting to break whatever spell had allowed this, Wilhelm spun away and began tearing down the background he had originally set for the comission. Thankfully, he had a new, blank canvas already prepared and set to the side.

Every day in the late morning, a beam of warm sunlight slipped through the windows to cast across his bed. Though it would be a pain to find the right timing each day, he knew that would be the place. He kept is back to Simon as he fiddled with the sheets and fluffed pillows, creating a small nest of luxurious fabrics.

When he turned, he found Simon standing in full nude, casually leaning against the wall, watching Wilhelm with careful eyes.

“How do you want me?” Simon asked, uncrossing his arms and pushing off the wall, then taking a step forward.

Wilhelm would not let himself look, not really, not yet.

He gestured to the bed, “Right here.”

Over the next bit of time, Wilhelm, in a great feat of personal strength and restraint, carefully arranged Simon on the sheets. At first he tried to explain with his words only, mimicking the gestures himself, but then Simon said, softly, “It’s okay, you can move me if you need,” and suddenly Wilhelm had hands on warm skin. A hand on his thigh to bend at the knee, on his wrist to prop up his head, on his waist to slightly tilt the hips.

By the time Wilhelm made it behind his easel, he felt as if he had lost his breath. Once he sat on his stool, he allowed himself to look.

In the back of his mind, he noted the colors he would need, which to mix to match the color of Simon’s skin where the sun hit it, compared to where it did not. The color of his lips, now redder than they were when he had first arrived. The flush on his chest was new, too. From this distance—too far for Wilhelm’s liking but just far enough to have the full body in frame — Wilhelm could not really see Simon’s eyes, though he knew the hundred colors that swirled there and would likely never forget them.

In the front of his mind, like seeing the sun for the first time after a long, long winter, he gazed at Simon’s body. His eyes tracked over the line of his neck, across his shoulder, the defined pectoral and ribs and toned stomach. The slight curve of his hip, muscled thigh, bony knee, all the way down to his ankle, then back up across every other piece of skin. Wilhelm could paint for three hundred years and never truly capture the dip of Simon’s collarbone and the jut of his jaw, how his core muscles twitched as he adjusted under Wilhelm’s stare.

“Do I look okay?”

Simon’s voice pulled him from his musings. Wilhelm smiled at the smirk on Simon’s face, the confidence to cover the insecurity, marked by the way his cheeks blushed lightly.

“Yes. You are perfect,” he said.

Perhaps he would never be able to truly capture Simon’s beauty with a brush and paint. But, he would be honored to spend his entire life trying.

[ransomdemands]

The heat is oppressive. My shirt sticks to my skin from the sweat and my vision is starting to blur. I can feel it all the way through me, a steadily growing inferno, consuming my thoughts. The temperature outside can’t account for this heat, unseasonably warm though it may be it’s still February. And I’m burning.

I catch a familiar scent on the breeze and throb low in my abdomen. A sweet musky scent, like jasmine flowers wilting in the sun. I find myself turning down streets I shouldn’t know, my body moving on instinct alone. The closer I get the more overwhelming the smell is, thick and rich in the honeyed air. My cock grows stiffer with every inhale, the aroma clouding my every sense until I see you.

And everything becomes clear.

The heat subsuming me settles into a bringing need, my cock standing proud and ready telling me what I need, twitching slightly as I breath in the scent of you, of the arousal still evident between your legs as you sleep softly in your bed. My head is foggy with your scent and I feel like I’m walking in a dream. Down your street, across your yard, up the drainpipe to your window. Every step closer to you eating away at a little more of my judgment, my restraint.

As I climb through your window I catch a glimpse of myself in the glass. Barely human anymore. There’s no suppressing my true form like this. I’ve been denying myself for too long and now my body is taking it’s due. My skin is an oil slick, deep black and reflective, and I can feel my teeth, bladed and long. My claws dig into your window lane leaving gauges as I pull myself through, hunching to avoid hitting my head on the ceiling. My tail whips nimbly behind me, pulling the window closed.

Inside the room your scent is all consuming. I can barely breath for it, my cock drips steadily, leaving spots of precum across your sheets as I climb over you. Nudging your legs apart I push the spade shaped tip of my tail into your hole, still soft and slick from masturbating. Your body accepts me readily and I can’t help but fuck you like this a little bit. My teeth ache for your flesh but I try to hold back. You’re such a tiny little thing, my claws could break you, I need to be careful. But the way you clench around me as I drag a fang down the skin of your throat is too much. I force your legs apart and back, spreading you open before me. I pull my tail from your body and line up my cock. It’s big, so big compared to you but I know you can take it, you need to take it.

I push into you in on rough thrust, relishing your tight aching hole. The painful stretch of me wakes you and you squirm beneath me. How terrifying it must be for you, pinned down beneath a gigantic beast, it’s yellow eyes and dripping fangs staring down at you, your tender hole stretched and stuffed to the limit with its thick ridged cock. I growl deep in my chest as I start to fuck you. Mindful of the bright red lines crisscrossing your thighs from the brush of my claws. I wrap my tail around your wrists, holding them down as I thrust slowly. Savoring your tight hole and your soft tender body. The feeling of you on my cock and the smell of your desperate arousal are all I am aware of now. I can dimly see that you are moving your mouth, maybe saying something? And you’re squirming beneath me but I’m so much stronger than you it’s near inconsequential and the heavy weight of my cock deep in your body keeps you from getting far.

I lean down and nip your ear, like I always do. Holding the shell of it between my teeth as I start to fuck you rougher and harder. Your cunt tightens around me suddenly and I growl loud and deep into your ear. I can hear you say my name, cunt slicking further and clenching around my cock.

Im suddenly afraid. The dim part of my brain not consumed by my need to breed you gripped by anxiety at the thought of you knowing what I really am. But a desperate lusty moan rips it’s way out of your mouth and the thought is lost in the wake of your pleasure. I lick up and down your neck, my long tongue wrapping its way around your throat and gripping lightly as the forked end flicks lightly at your collar bone. Your cervix is soft and pliant for my cock and I thrust into it hard. My body aching to release inside you. I grip your throat between my teeth, holding on as I simply let my body fuck you, rutting at the hard desperate pace I need, my claws sinking into you, pinpricks of blood dripping down your pristine thighs.

My hips stutter slightly forcing deep inside you as i cum. Throbbing as I release into your womb, your belly filling with the heat of it. The ridges of my cock flare out as i fill you, locking me and my cum inside you as wave after wave of cum fills your body.

My eyes are heavy with the satiety of pleasure and I collapse downward, heavy body pressing into you. The haze of arousal replaced with a haze of exhaustion as I start to fall asleep. I sink my teeth into your neck as I do, a claiming bite, for my new favorite breeder.