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moonlight-rider25 · 1 year ago

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Winchester Girl Chapter 5

Previously on Winchester Girl

“We love you guys..” You call faintly to them both.

Sam stops and smiles back towards you as he closes the door and you allow a huge long awaited breath to escape you. At that moment, you made a decision. You figured at the time, it was what was best for everyone.

“Well, Finley…I guess we should start packing as well…”

New York, present day.

You hear Dean's alarm buzzing on the side table next to him and roll over. He seems to be snoozing peacefully through it; you try to flatten the thin pillows over your head. Finally, it gives up and you settle back into your spot and doze back off to sleep. Only to be awoken 9 mins later by the buzzing again.

"God damnit!" You curse under your breath.

You roll over again and crawl over on top of Dean, angrily hitting the dismiss button on the screen and he finally begins to stir. His hand comes up from behind you gazing across your ass and up to your waist. You try to pry yourself from his grip but he moves with you as you lay face to face on your sides.

"Look if you wanted some more action, all you had to do was say so…" He grumbles in a low voice.

“Oh, get bent!” you tell him with a smirk as you feel him release you, and you flip back over facing away from him.

You feel the redness crawling up on your face and bury it deep within your thin, all-but-useless pillows. You breathe in the cheap laundry detergent smell and try desperately to suppress the thoughts racing through your head…

Regardless, you know he only had a few short hours of sleep and you allow some time to pass for him to settle back to sleep before you carefully remove yourself and walk to the bathroom. After washing your hands and peering in the mirror seeing the disheveled hair due you have; slicking it back with a hair tie, you quietly make your way back out to the main room where you assume you'll hear Dean snoring. You carefully tuck yourself back into bed, hopeful for a few more undisturbed hours of rest. You grab your phone and peer at the screen making sure you have no missed calls or text messages from Sam. You set it back down quietly on your night stand and pull the covers up, feeling Dean move beside you.

You freeze trying not to disturb him and feel his arm creep up under the covers again. This time though they don't fondle you, they just pull you closer towards him. You suck in quick shallow breath as you try to register whether or not he's awake behind you, or still in a sleep ridden daze.

"..Dean?" You ask in a whisper.

"Hmmm.." He hums, locking his arms around you tighter.

"..Are you.."

"Hard?, Yeah sorry…you uhh, wanna lend a hand with that?" He says through his groggy morning voice.

You scoff and push yourself away from him but he locks his arm down around you tighter.

"I'm just kidding, Y/N, God!" He says less groggy now. "Even if I were, I have a little more self control than that. I mean come on, I lived with you, for what… like a year and half…"

His voice trails off as you freeze yet again taking in his words while trying to free yourself from him.

Disregarding all the alarms in your head, and all the times you sat and suffered through fighting back every urge inside you to be this close to him; you allow the wall you've built up inside you for some time, to come tumbling down.

Cautiously, you roll over and face him; his eyes remain shut as you stare up at his face. The stubble that's beginning to grow in along his jaw and mouth. His perky little pink lips pursed as he breathes comfortably laying in bed next to you. His hair barely ruffled from sleeping on it wet all night. You have to resist the urge to reach up and trace your hand up along his pronounced jaw line and rest your fingers between his plump little pink lips.

"Dean!" You say again in a louder whisper this time.

His amazing green eyes pop open seeing you; and he smiles, before allowing his eyes to flutter back shut and pull you even closer towards him.

You press your face against his huge strong chest and take a deep breath in smelling him. His scent fills your lungs and you exhale slowly before taking another deep breath allowing his warm earthy aroma to fill you again.

(How the fuck do you smell so good?) You think to yourself.

You feel him move a bit and twist over onto his back beside you. It takes everything in you not to pull him back and keep him there longer.

Dean reaches his arms out in a stretch and rubs at his eyes for a moment with a long yawn. You inch back away from him and lay against your pillows watching him through squinted eyes. He finally sits up and looks over to you for a moment before patting your side through the blankets. He then tosses the covers from his huge strong body with a faint grunt and gets up heading towards the bathroom. You wait to hear the ‘click; of the door latch and grab his pillow from his spot burying your face deep within it, breathing in his sweet scent yet again.

You grunt a bit into the pillow with a final breath before tossing it aside, you roll over in your spot and sit on the edge of the bed grabbing your phone and seeing its 6:19am. You open it up and check they’re still no messages from Sam, and assume he and Finn may still be asleep…seeing as he probably did not put Finn to bed at 8 like you asked…

Dean walks out from the bathroom, fully dressed and you turn towards him with a seductive smile. You lean back on the bed eyeing him, watching the smirk creep up across his face.

“Come on, momma. Get dressed, we gotta hit the road..” He says in his low ‘Dean’ tone.

You groan dramatically, face planting against the bed and lay there for a moment longer before finally getting up and heading to get dressed in the bathroom.

~~~~

"Man, I can't wait to sleep in my own bed.." you say aloud to no one in particular.

Dean stares ahead at the road.

"I bet.." He replies coldly.

He pulls into a rustic country looking gas station and you follow after him. He heads towards the piping hot roasting oven filled with breakfast sandwiches. You grab two extra large sized coffee cups and fill them to the brim, before making your way to the counter. He hands his stolen card over across the counter to the lady behind the register, and you bite back your lip spying the many brands of cigarettes behind her. You grab the meal Dean paid for and follow him out still dying for a cigarette.

"Dean, I'm gonna hit the ladies room before we go…I'll be right out."

Dean nods heading out towards 'baby' and you duck back into the store and up to the counter again. The lady eyes you suspiciously and you quickly set your gas station breakfast on the counter and pull out your card.

"One pack of red L&M regulars…" you ask through a shameful smile.

~~~~

Back outside you spot Dean sitting in the driver's seat enjoying the last bites of his breakfast sandwich as you slide in next to him. He shoves the key in the ignition and begins back towards the road. The only noise filling the air is your sandwich's foil wrapper, crinkling as you unfold it. Dean stares ahead towards the road and sips his coffee, you reach over after a few long awkwardly silent minutes and turn the music up. 'Behind blue eyes' begins to sound over the speakers filling the uncomfortable quietness, and you sit back enjoying your sandwich a bit easier.

'But my dreams, they aren't as empty

As my conscience seems to be…'

You take a sip of the piping hot day old coffee to wash down the sandwich.

'No one knows what it's like

To feel these feelings

Like I do

And I blame you…'

After finishing up your sandwich and feeling not so great about what you just put into your body, you pull out your phone and decide to text Sam to let him know you’re headed home and should be there sometime tonight. The little notification icon at the top of the screen pings and you open and read a text message from your neighbor, Ann.

You’ve known Ann for a while, a married mom of three who was very good at overstaying her welcome, but you allowed it, seeing as she was always lending a hand when you needed it, with Finn. She was nice enough company and even on occasion you had enjoyed drinks with her beside her pool while Finn played with her kids; two daughters that were close to him in age, and an older boy who clearly was a spitting image of his father.

'Who's the house guest?'

You smile to yourself a bit and realize soon enough you'll be the talk of the town with Sam staying and watching Finn…

'Old family friend…Had some other family stuff come up, I’ll be home tonight.'

(A believable lie, though you hope she doesn't dig too deeply into it…)

Your phone dings again, almost immediately after sending the message.

'Oh, no! Is everything okay?

…Damn, so no new bf gossip I can get from you then..?'

You roll your eyes, playing off what you can.

'Nope, we’re fine now… and sorry, nothing like that lol'

(New boyfriend gossip, no. Old boyfriend gossip, well that's another story.)

'What a shame, I was hoping to hear all about his cute little biteable ass..👅'

You peer down at your phone screen smirking to yourself when you hear Dean's deep voice boom from beside you.

"Ah shit!"

You close the phone, completely forgetting to text Sam, and look over to Dean.

"...I think I missed our exit back there. Can you grab the map in the back and see if we can take this next…"

Dean's voice trails off as you reach in the back searching through cassette tapes, napkins, receipts, bags of who knows what, and a few half empty water bottles for the road maps. You open one up and spread it across the seat for him to look at while typing in your address to pull up the Google maps info.

The automated voice on your phone begins barking directions and Dean glares at you.

"Look, you know I don't know how to read those damn things… this will tell you the best route even when you take a wrong turn…"

"I don't need that garbage. Turn it off!" He huffs angry.

You turn the volume all the way down and peer at the illuminated screen showing you to make a U turn in the middle of the highway.

(Well that's not gonna happen…)

"You can text your boyfriend later, could you please tell me what exit I can take?"

You peer down at the paper map between you and Dean with complete and utter dismay.

"Dean, I don't even know where we are here!"

"Goddamn it, just give me it…"

Dean snatches the map, wrinkling it a bit and after trying to focus on the road and the map, tosses it in the back again before taking the next exit. He whips the car into the nearest parking lot and parks it before grabbing the map again and figuring out where to go.

"Thanks for the help, co-pilot." He says in a gruff tone.

"Sorry! I didn't grow up reading these things like you and Sam did, I have no idea what I'm looking for!" You tell him defensively.

"It's a damn map, Y/N. Pretty self explanatory.."

“Yeah, and so are feelings and attitudes, yet here we are!” You yell a bit harsher than you intended.

Dean scoffs, staring intently at the map.

“...And that's supposed to mean what, exactly?...”

“What the hell is your problem, Dean? You were fine like two hours ago, now all of a sudden you've got some sort of vendetta out for me? What the hell did I do?!” You ask shrilly.

He stares at you through glaring eyes. You patiently await his answer…with no luck.

“Just forget it…I don’t care..” You tell him agitatedly, opening the door and plucking the new pack of cigarettes from your purse.

You slam the door behind you and lean heavily against the car, packing the new pack of cigarettes against your palm before plucking one and slipping it hastily between your lips. You fish around in your purse looking for a lighter and hear the driver's door open and slam shut again.

“What the hell, Y/N! You promised you were done with that shit!” Dean calls walking around the hood of the impala.

“I’ve made a lot of promises in my life, Dean!…” You yell back through your gritted teeth.

“Yeah, well in this family, we don’t break promises!” He yells at you.

“Oh, don’t start getting all high and mighty up there on me. You know just as well as I do the countless promises you’ve broken!” You light your cigarette and blow the thick cloud of smoke into his direction as he grimaces and stares daggers back towards you.

“Not like you’re making it very easy to quit, either!” You say through a long drag. “...Typical Dean just shutting everyone out and off!”

You take another long puff as Dean's cold look breaks for a moment. He plucks the cigarette from your lips and flicks it off into the distance.

“What the hell Dean!” You cry, staring shocked at him.

“Don’t start with that crap, Y/N, God..” He screams, turning away for a moment with his hands firmly on his hips.

“You think this is easy for me…think I like showing up at your doorstep, forced to watch you and Sam have your sweet little romantic moments with each other?!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” You yell glaring up towards him.

“Oh please!” he says, still loudly, but gentler now. “You and I both know you still love him! And you’re not stupid, you know he still loves you!” He spits angrily towards you.

“I never said I stopped loving him, Dean! But Jesus Christ, I never stopped loving you either!”

You bite back your lip and swallow hard when you realize what you’ve said. Dean scoffs dramatically and turns back away from you, kicking at the ground as he does.

“Don’t humor me Y/N…”

“Fuck you Dean! …You think I meant that to let that slip out!?” You shake a bit with anger, yelling towards his back. "I’m not even the same person Sam fell in love with all those years ago! Hell, neither is he, but I still love you both, regardless of all the time apart!”

Dean slowly turns back a bit, crossing his arms disapprovingly, eyeing you through squints.

“...Since when?” He asks loudly but not in a yell.

“Since…I don’t know, forever!”

“...And you just never thought to ever mention anything of that?” He asks, still staring intently through his squinted disapproving look.

“To tell you what, Dean? Huh? That I loved you, just as much as your brother?!” Your voice begins to grow hoarse from yelling so much.

You throw your purse to the ground and inch closer towards him, screaming up at his pouting face.

“...Tell you about the countless nights I laid wrapped in Sam’s arms, I'd often secretly wish they were yours! Or that when he'd roll me over in the middle of the night, more times than not I was hoping it was your face I'd see, and not Sam’s?! Hell, I didn’t even think you looked at me that way till the day you met me in the shower!”

“Then why the hell did you leave?!” He booms from above you.

“Leave?!” You scream up towards him. “You really think I wanted to go home and watch as it took her three months to slowly die beside me?”

“No, not back then, …with Finn!” He booms with an apologetic look on his face.

“...Because even then, I figured it was just a weak moment of lust, and not that you actually had feelings for me!” You tell him breathless, your throat strained from yelling so much.

“What do you want me to say here, Dean?” You ask, dropping your hands by your thighs. “That I love you? That I’ve always loved you? That I’m sorry I couldn’t read your mind, and tell you sooner?” Your voice cracking a bit as you speak.

Dean's eyes glimmer a bit as he peers down to you and brushes your hair behind your ear. You swallow hard, your heart thumping in your chest and your eyes growing blurry with the tears building in them.

You sniffle and swat his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” You say angrily.

“Why?” He asks loudly, backing you against the car.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You say shoving him away.

He stands staring at you, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Alright!” he yells, “I'm not!”

You smack him in the chest before pushing him away a few more times unsuccessfully.

“Asshole!” You scream. “Fuck you!”

You smack him one more time before gripping onto his shirt and pulling him down towards yours.

He engulfs your mouth in his and you pant against him as he backs you carefully against the car again.

You wrap your arms around his neck and eagerly suck at his tongue dancing around your mouth. His hands slide up along your hips beneath your thin leather jacket and you pull him towards you more. He leans heavily against you, pinning you between his huge muscular safe body and the car. You moan against him while he digs his huge weathered fingertips into your waist. You grip a fist of his hair and pull his head back, watching him lick his lips through lust filled eyes as he peers back down at you.

“Please, don’t make me stop..” He grunts in a low whisper.

“...I’m not..I just…” You release your hand from his hair and eagerly await his mouth on yours again with a heavy moan. “...Still fuck you!” You whine in a moan against him.

“Yeah, yeah, fuck me, …I’m an asshole I know…” He says seductively trailing hot wet kisses down your neck.

You groan pushing him away a bit again, and he slams his hand against the side of the impala.

“Fuck you!” You say, holding yourself up against him.

“Yeah..I really wish you would..” he says through a devilish smile.

“Shut, uppp!” You giggle through a sniffle.

His huge hand reaches up and caresses the faint tear streak from your cheek, he presses his big soft lips against yours a final time, then presses his forehead to yours for a moment.

“Think we got time for a quickie?” He says coyly tapping the back window of the Impala.

You laugh wholeheartedly with your eyes closed, as you lean against him.

“Mmm, sorry, you missed your chance this morning..” You tell him through a grin.

“This morning?...” he asks, raising a brow, “Wake and lay, atta girl ..I’ll have to remember that..” He says pulling gently at the waist of your jeans. You caress your hand down the side of his face, feeling the slight bit of stubble growing in along his jaw and gently graze your thumb across his bottom lip.

“So…You’re really gonna get me all worked up and leave me hanging?” He asks with a smirk.

“Shuut, upp!” You say again pushing him away playfully with a loud giggle.

“Alright…alright!... Rain check?…” he says backing up and opening your door for you.

You slide in and grab your purse from the ground before peering back up towards him.

“Rain check..” You tell him through a flirtatious smile.

You reach for the door and he grunts a bit, stopping you.

“..Just uh,...give me a sec..” he says adjusting his jeans.

You cackle loudly as he swings the door closed and carefully walks around the front of ‘baby’, still adjusting the front of his jeans. He carefully leans in towards the driver's seat, and shoves the key in the ignition, the loud rumble of the car beginning to fill the air.

“Bratt..” He mumbles as he shifts the car into drive.

You let another loud cackle spill from your lips and playfully smack him in the chest as he turns around to back out of the parking spot.

~~~~

Back on the road, in the right direction this time; Dean picks back up on the conversation from earlier.

“So, what are we gonna tell Sammy?...”

He asks, peering over at you with a suspicious look.

“About what?” You reply quietly, knowing all too well exactly what he's referring to.

“..You know..us?” He says looking back from you to the road.

You whip your head around towards him and allow a heavy exhale to leave your mouth.

“And what exactly would you call ‘us’, Dean?”

He meets your eye for a second with a bewildered brow raise, before looking back towards the road, unsure of what to say.

“Exactly.” you tell him, turning back to face the road beside him.

“There was never any ‘us’ with Sam, there's no ‘us’ between you and I..”

“Hey! Come on! That's not true!” He says defensively.

“Dean, come on, who are we kidding?... You have your lives, I have mine, and frankly I don’t see the two of them merging anytime soon, do you?” You ask frankly, in a level tone.

Dean sighs and digs his thumb nail into the steering wheel.

“I’m just saying..” You add trying to lighten the blow.

“No I see what you’re saying..” he huffs through a sigh. “You know, I really actually do care about you Y/N…” He says softer this time meeting your look. “...I always have…”

“...I know.. But… enough to quit hunting?” You ask faintly, reaching over and grabbing his hand. “Don’t answer that…”

You tell him, peering out your side window with a heavy sigh, avoiding the knowing look Dean probably has for you right now.

(I already know the answer.)

You knew how it sounded, and you knew from his silence he also knew you were right. Dean and Sam dedicated themselves to hunting, you dedicated yourself to taking care of Finn. There was no way the two would ever merge together, especially seeing as Finn didn't have any idea about any of it. Hunting monsters; things that most people had no idea were really out there. It was the huge responsibility that both the brothers decided to take on; that you also had considered doing alongside them. But, a lot had changed since then, and you realized no matter how much you wanted to be next to them in line of battle, up against creatures of nightmares; Finn needed a parent who could provide a safe stable home for him. He was your choice, just as hunting was Sam and Dean’s…

~~~~

The bunker, 7 years earlier.

You sit on the couch watching Steve Harvey, a guilty pleasure of yours, eating cereal in one of Sam's oversized tee shirts. You hear the bunker's door screech open from above; Sam and Dean returning from a quick supply run, and Sam greets you with a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Hey, babe!” You call through a mouthful of frosted flakes.

“Ah, Steeve! I’ll be right in…” He trails off heading back towards the door.

You look back to the tv screen watching Steve address the live crowd and his ridiculous dating advice he's giving someone; when your phone rings.

You place your bowl on the coffee table and reach for the vibrating phone, reading your nana's name across the screen.

“Hey nannie!” You say joyfully still swallowing the mouthful of cereal down.

The voice on the other end of the line isn't nana, and you sit still in fear as you listen to the words your mom speaks to you over the line.

“...Nana’s.. she's had a stroke. The Doctors are asking everyone to come say their final goodbyes…”

Your heart drops into your stomach as you sit and stare blankly at Steve cracking jokes on the screen.

It takes you a while to process what you've just heard, even after hanging up the phone and sitting uncomfortably perched on the end of the couch. Nana; the lady that raised you in your careless mothers absence, the lady who taught you almost everything you knew, cooking, sewing, manners; all of it. You recall not having seen her for almost a year, as you were staying with Sam but you kept in touch almost daily over the phone. The lump welling up in your throat as you sat thinking about the way she used to hold your hand between the two of hers and tell you,

“You are my light in this dark, scary world Y/N…”

Where was her light now, when she needed you, in her dark scary time?

You wipe back your tears as Sam jumps over the back of the couch beside you pulling you towards him as you stare up at him with the wetness glistening in your eyes.

“Y/N, what's wrong?!” He asks, concerned.

“I gotta go home..” You whine through your squeaky sob filled voice.

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zkgrb · 20 days ago

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💕

Blood on Fire ~ pt. 1 | LHS

A/N: this is part 1 of the BOF series! I have decided to divide this story up by who's sex scene is in it, but in order to fully understand the story, you must start with part 1 and finish (if you want). they are plot driven, and context will not make sense if you start with part 2, etc...

genre/tags ✶ MDNI reverse harem!hyung line x afab!reader, angst, smut, gore and violence, supernatural themes, (sirens, werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, phoenixes, frost elves, dragons, witches, and more…), underground betting, alcohol use, blood, verbal and physical violence, murder, manipulation, death (no major characters, lol kinda), government themes (not political), fight club au, ot7

synopsis ✶ In a city where the supernatural are arrested on sight, the only refuge for their pent-up rage is “The Enha Arena”- an exclusive, hidden venue where creatures engage in brutal, blood-soaked battles with one another. Concealed beneath the unassuming exterior of “Dusk and Dawn,” a gym that serves as the front of a totally legal business, this underground fight club acts as the epicenter for this violent world where supernatural beings not only fight for dominance and pride but for the sheer thrill of it all. In dire need of some money, you find yourself drawn into the fight club when you come across a black market job posting- an offer for a new trainer at the gym. Desperate for new ways to keep your own abilities under wraps and even learn about other supernatural beings, you accept the position, completely unaware of the dangers and complicated relationships that await you

WC ✶ 16.9k

Part 2

smut warnings under the cut

smut warnings ✶ monster erotica (obviously), blood play/kink, love bites, spanking, dubcon, bondage, unprotected sex, aphrodisiac usage (kinda), degradation, pet names, oral fem!receiving, vaginal fingering

Luxta was different from other cities; it was neither big nor small- large enough that not everyone knew each other by name, but small enough that you didn’t need to make it a day trip to get to the grocery store. What set apart Luxta from other cities was the thriving population of supernatural beings living in the shadows, though their existence was only known by the government and select humans. The rest of the world, including the unsuspecting citizens of Luxta, had no idea that they walked on the same streets as did you so-called ‘monsters’, the ones that should have only ever existed in stories.

Being supernatural was illegal in Luxta and if you were to be caught by those hand-held scanners the government officials in the enforcement division wore around their belt, you’d be arrested on site. They weren’t as far-reaching or accurate as the large, reinforced scanners that were mounted in the back of their trucks or brought to building inspections, but they were enough to ruin your life. So, like everyone else who had the misfortune of being ‘different’, you stayed hidden.

There was one solution to these scanners: suppressants. A sort of perfume that you could use to spray on yourself that would make you undetectable to their scanners. But they were difficult to come by, the production being regulated by one man and their distribution being restricted to underground networks that sold them at sky-high prices. And they were experimental at best, coming with an abundance of long-lasting side effects and malfunctions that didn’t guarantee 100% effectiveness. For the few people that could afford one, they were used as an emergency fall-back.

And for the majority few that didn’t have that luxury, they stayed in The Veil, the black market’s so-called ‘base’ for the supernatural. For you personally, you lived there until you turned three, when a blue-collar couple took you in a few days after your birthday. “Adopted” wouldn’t be the right word- “purchased” would fit the situation better. Given only a handful of humans knew about the supernatural, these types of ‘transactions’ came with a strict clause that if broken, were punishable by death. Even so, 90% of supernatural children grew up as orphans, relying on The Veil for support.

Being adopted in the supernatural community was supposed to be some sort of grand escape from poverty, and in a way, it was. But since meeting your parents, you never stepped foot outside of your home. From the moment you met your parents, you never left your parents’ 800 square foot apartment and its measly excuse for a patio that overlooked the area where people took out their trash.

You existed only to service your human parents- like some sort of bloody commodity. At first, you didn’t know any better. A few healing touches here, a bit of supernatural magic there- it was harmless. But as you grew older, smarter, it didn’t take a genius to know why you were really there. You were just a piece of capital to them, a tool to be used.

As a phoenix, you were an expensively rare commodity. Your regenerative and healing abilities made you invaluable, and many people sought after those traits- but few possessed those characteristics. Your parents, both construction workers, were no stranger to danger in the field. Injuries were a part of their daily lives, and having you around to heal their wounds was an advantage they never hesitated to use.

It was routine- your mother’s strained back from lifting heavy materials and your father’s broken bones from working with heavy machinery. It was the perfect system, your healing touches allowing them to return to their jobs faster than most could manage, like a money making pig. But their injuries were extensive, more than just a mere cut or bruise. Every wound you healed required a certain amount of energy, the more severe wounds drained you of energy for days. As time went on, you felt your body getting weaker and weaker until eventually, you just couldn’t do it anymore.

Whether it was because your body was drained of its own powers or you just couldn’t find it in you to help them anymore, you stopped healing them. So at 14 years old, they kicked you out of their home when they realized they couldn’t extort you of your powers anymore. The realization that you parents had only used you for your abilities hits you hard now, but at the time, it was like a huge burden had been lifted off of your shoulders. And now, for the last six years you’ve been living alone in a poorly lit apartment that’s been funded by The Veil; two years out of highschool and working part time jobs at home all while remaining disconnected from the world outside. Since being kicked out, you hadn’t physically interacted with anyone aside from the person that delivers your groceries to your door. At this point, you’re starting to think you have a deeper connection with your delivery driver than anyone else in your life.

But now, even that little security was slipping away from you. The Veil was making room for the next generation of supernatural kids, which meant only one thing- you were getting kicked out. You still had a few more months to get your shit together, find a new place and make sure you had a stable enough job to maintain yourself in this economy. Your side hustles weren’t going to be enough to cover a first and last month's rent deposit anywhere. So that’s how you ended up here, pulling on some workout gear for some gym training job you found on the dark web for a place called “Dusk and Dawn,” a supernaturally owned gym that operated within the shadows of the black market. The wage was kind, almost too kind and it had you second-guessing the legitimacy of the job- but you were in no position to play it safe right now.

There wasn’t much of an interview process, just some email telling you that your first day would involve being shadowed by a staff member to see how well you interact with their clients. It sounded doable, despite your half empty resume and lack of any formal qualifications. But surely, your years of self-defense training during your free time through a computer screen counted for something, right?

When night finally settles over the city, you leave your cramped studio apartment, watching garbage sweep across the broken cracks in the sidewalk as you hastily make your way down the alleyways. It always took a bit longer to get to where you wanted when you took the back alleys over the main roads, but it was a safety net you had no choice but to rely on whenever you went out. The shadows of the alleys felt safer anyways, more familiar to you than the brightly lit streets that crawled with government officials late at night.

Luxta was always scarce at night, save for the few men in blue that scoured the streets looking for the supernatural under the guise that they were just keeping watch over the neighborhood. When the supernatural had first invaded the city, it was more of a slow encroachment than a sudden flood. It started with a few whispers at first, shadows passing by in the night. Then rumors began to stretch across the city as sightings of these fleeting figures moving faster than the human eye could imagine became more and more frequent. It was never officially confirmed what they were, but the government responded swiftly and labelled the mysterious occurrences as nothing more than a mere increase in criminal activity.

The men in blue- members of the government’s enforcement division- were sent out in droves after that, scouring the streets while armed with silver scanners clipped to their belts. Their devices would emit a piercing alarm at around 90 decibels whenever it detected a supernatural presence, irritatingly announcing their capture to anyone nearby. It’s game over once you hear that alarm, immediate handcuffs specifically designed to detain the supernatural. What happened after was anyone’s guess.

There’s speculation in the supernatural community about what they do with you after you’re arrested: years of brutal testing, harsh interrogations, maybe even torture only to conclude it with a senseless execution. But no one outside of that division knew what happened beyond the arrests made in public. And no one knew why they were even populating Luxta in the first place. The only thing you did know was that your only ally was The Veil.

Arriving in front of a dimly lit building that is squished between a post office and a laundromat, you’re pulled from your thoughts when you see a flickering “Dusk and Dawn” sign hanging above the entrance. You look at the windows, but you can’t see past the dirt and scratches that decorate the glass, obscuring any view of inside. With a nervous breath, you push open the door to the entrance, its rusty bell ringing above you as you enter.

Your eyes fall on the counter before you, its fading white paint peeling at the sides from years of wear and tear. Behind the counter sits a woman with sleek black hair and rectangular framed glasses that accentuate her sharp jawline, “Hello?” you call, glancing around the small waiting room.

The woman glances up, her brown eyes zeroing in on you as you step closer, “And you are?” she asks with disinterest in her tone.

“I’m Y/n, I’m here for orientation as the new gym trainer?” you respond. Up close, you can see that she’s around your age, maybe a few years older with smooth skin and dark eyes that shine at you despite the deadbeat tone she uses to address you with.

She gives you a curt nod, her expression slightly brightening, “My name is Yuqi, I’m the manager here,” she slides off of her stool, the old wood creaking beneath her. “Were you able to see well in the dark, I know the hours of your orientation seem a bit odd, but we’re a 24/7 gym.”

Your mind hesitates as you recall the unspoken question to recognizing a fellow supernatural: asking about the darkness of the sky, “It was glimmering enough for me to see clearly, thanks.”

Yuqi narrows her eyes before offering you a smile, flicking her tongue at you. You watch as her eyes transition from a dark brown to a piercing yellow, her pupils narrowing into a slit. A subtle hiss comes from her as the forked tip darts out at you in a dangerous frenzy. You freeze, mesmerized by the way her thin tongue moves in an unsettling precision, like she’s trying to reel you in, “I’m a serpent, but if you really wanted to get technical, I’m a basilisk,” she explains, observing your wide eyes, “You don’t seem to know many supernatural, do you?”

You blink at her, shoulders slumping as you shake your head.

“Well, if orientation goes ok, you’ll be meeting a lot more supernatural people here. Things can get… intense,” she says, her eyes glinting with pride. “Come,” she gestures for you to follow her, guiding you through a large room filled with old gym equipment that look like they’re about ready to break. You don’t stop there though as she continues to lead you into a dim hallway where a heavy iron door clad with locks and chains at the end of the hall is. You hear a thrum of things clanging on the ground and low murmurs behind the door, and an uneasy tension begins to coil in your chest.

“So, how much do you know about our gym?”

“The ad only told me I’d be helping people work out, nothing more.”

Yuqi raises her eyebrow as she reaches into her pocket, pulling out a silver key. When she begins to unlock the chains, she turns to you, “Don’t be alarmed, things are just different here,” she says calmly, undoing the last lock.

With a rough push of her shoulder, the door opens with a heavy click, unveiling a space that feels worlds apart from the one you just saw minutes ago. The polished bamboo floors shine under the cool lighting of the gym, the industrial light fixtures hanging 6 feet in the air. Each area of the gym is meticulously organized, groups of machines clustered by function on top of black rubber gym tiles. There’s even motivational black and white posters hanging on the walls, accompanied by black plates that adorn the walls near the benches and squat racks. It all feels so overwhelming, the sheer volume of equipment just waiting to be used.

But the most striking feature of the auditorium had to be the imposing boxing ring that sat to the left of everything, its rubber barriers worn and fraying in a way that commanded authority. Encircling three out of four sides of the ring was a bunch of bleachers that looked as though they had been spray-painted black to match the aesthetic of the black and white theme the rest of the gym was following, giving it a high-end yet gritty finish.

“Welcome to the Dusk Gym,” Yuqi says with pride laced in her voice, her gaze sweeping over the space in front of you, “What you saw outside was our Dawn Gym. I know the ad said you’d be helping people work out,” she continues by gesturing at a few of the members working out on some of the equipment, “but that’s only a fraction of what you’ll be doing.”

You turn to her, confusion evident in the way you tilt your head and furrow your brows, “What do you mean?” your voice carries a mixture of wariness and intrigue as Yuqi’s thin lips curve upwards into a smirk.

“Nestled within Dusk Gym is the Enha Arena,” she reveals, her voice dropping a few decibels as she points to the boxing ring, “This is where supernatural beings come to fight one another, to test their limits and use their powers without worrying about the legal repercussions,” She matches your gaze with her own and presses her lips together, “We are technically an underground fight club, Dawn Gym is just a front. There’s an official match with spectators once a month. And yes, this is extremely illegal.”

Listening to her words, you swallow a string of saliva building up in your throat. As she continues, an uneasy wave washes over you and a coil begins to tighten in your stomach.

“Your job isn’t just to guide them through their workouts, but to prepare them to fight one another, to teach them how to harness their abilities and control them. One mistake in public, and they jeopardize not only themselves, but the entire underground community.”

Her words hang in the air like an impending storm, the heavy weight of them waiting to strike. A nauseating tension settles in your stomach as you begin to question your capabilities for the job, your confidence waning by the minute. Uncertainty swirls through your mind, your lacking qualifications pressing against your forehead like a swollen thought. “You’ll be given a journal that was started by our old trainer- it’s got notes on every member in the gym, so don’t feel like you’re going into this blindly.”

You press your lips together, “Ok, anything else?”

“You’ll also need to make sure they’re pushing themselves to be their best without losing control. It’s on you to make sure they’re ready to fight, mentally and physically. At the end of the day, we’re a fight club and that’s how we make most of our money.”

You hold her gaze, finally feeling her words settle like lead. “Ok, but why a fight club? Why all the violence?” You feel your words catch in your throat as you ask, feeling as though this may be too much to take on. But you couldn’t turn it down, the pay was good and there weren’t many other supernatural jobs that were hiring.

Yuqi looks around the gym, nodding towards a few of the patrons that were already working up a sweat before answering your question, “I’m sure you’re well aware of this already, but the majority of us have spent our lives isolated from the real world. A lot of us don’t know how to regulate ourselves. Not being brought up properly didn’t give us the chance to learn how to cope with big emotions. The Veil helped create this place for us, a space for the supernatural to confront their inner demons and let their anger out in a safe environment” her voice softens for a moment, the slit of her pupils expanding briefly, “In a place like this, they don’t have to hide.”

Her words hit harder than you expect, cutting through a part of your heart that still aches for your past. Despite leaving the community, you had still hidden yourself. Even after being taken in and offered what you were forced to call a home, it felt more like a prison than living without a roof over your head. Forced to hide away what was an extension of yourself and acknowledged only when it benefited the two people who were supposed to love and cherish you, you never thought you’d see the day where you could embrace your entire being. Yet here you are, standing in a place where you weren’t a secret anymore but rather a strength. It’s foreign, and if it weren’t for Yuqi’s words holding up a mirror to your own past, you never would’ve questioned what life was like where you weren’t discriminated against for being different. You would be an idiot to not take this job up now.

“Now, be a good girl and introduce yourself to one of our patrons. I’ll be right behind you.” She shoves you along a bit, following after you with a soft laugh. “You’ll be working with Heeseung, Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon. They’re four of our seven regulars here.”

You bite your lip out of nervousness and find the nearest patron, only getting a view of his back as you watch him push through a set of squats. You can see his muscles strain beneath the weight, each striae bulging beneath the tight compression of his black long-sleeve. His focus is nearly palpable as he executes each movement with a haunting precision and you almost hesitate to introduce yourself, but Yuqi pushes you forward again and into his peripheral vision. When you stumble in front of him, you see that his skin is a striking porcelain white and you feel a sub zero chill run through your spine as you step into his presence. Noticing your feet awkwardly shuffling from one weight to the other, he pulls his earbuds out and gives you a strikingly cold stare.

“Hi, I’m Y/n,” your voice trembles a bit, your confidence wavering as an icy chill travels through your veins. Your next words catch in your throat as you begin to find it harder to focus, the temperature of your body becoming colder by the second. “I’m a new trainer here… at Dusk and Dawn. I’m just getting to know everyone.” You kick yourself internally for fucking up your intro, but your mind falters when your muscles begin to stiffen, the coldness gripping you like an iron vice.

Frozen in place, you opt to stare into Sunghoon’s eyes, a storm of frost and grief storming behind them. There’s a mysterious depth to them that draws you in despite the arctic freeze that’s creeping through your body, an irrational pull to figure him out.

When Yuqi notices your frozen state, she moves to deliver a sharp smack to the back of Sunghoon’s head, “Knock it off, Sunghoon,” She scolds, throwing him a venomous glare. “You’re not a walking AC unit,”

The boy has an air of arrogance to him that floats around him like a cloud, thundering when she gets too close. Rolling his eyes, his lips curve into a mocking smirk before he slides his earbuds back in as if dismissing you. You’re about to scoff when Yuqi slips her arm through yours, pulling you away before he can catch a glance at your flushed out cheeks. “Please excuse him. He’s a frost elf, so don’t expect much empathy from him.”

“Is that why I nearly died of hypothermia all of a sudden?” you ask, rubbing your arms despite your core temperature returning back to normal almost immediately.

She sighs, shaking her head as she drags you over to the next patron. “Probably, it’s a defense mechanism of his. When he feels negative emotions like annoyance or just wants to push someone away, his body temperature significantly drops, as well as whoever else he wants to affect.”

“So he did it on purpose?”

“I’m not sure,” she answers, tapping her foot on the floor, “It’s integrated into his sympathetic nervous system, so it normally activates when his fight or flight gets triggered. But if he really wanted to, he could control it. But I’ve noticed he just lets it happen whenever, like it’s his way of telling people you’re pissing him off.”

You give her a simple nod, filing the information away in the back of your brain to jot down for later. When you gather yourself, your gaze falls onto the next patron- a tall, lean guy who was too busy re-racking his weights on the bench press to notice your presence. His taut muscles flex under his white compression shirt as he handles the bar, each side stacked with more weight than you could imagine. “Fresh blood?” he asks without even sparing you a glance.

Before you can respond, Yuqi leans over, “He’s a vampire. He can smell your blood from miles away. Just don’t stare into Heeseung’s eyes for too long.”

You give the woman a nod of confirmation, playing it off as if meeting a vampire was just a regular occurrence. Turning to the vampire, you offer him a short but polite greeting, looking anywhere except his crimson gaze. Just like with Sunghoon, you find an invisible tug pulling you towards him that has you craving more, an unknown urge in your belly asking you to uncover whatever it was this person was hiding from you.

He shoots you a knowing smile, his pearly white fangs peeking out while he narrows his red eyes on you, as if testing your resolve. His stare pierces through you, slickening your core with a striking heat that has you instinctively pressing your thighs against each other. You feel a warmth begin to pool in your stomach as your composure starts to crumble, his gaze melting you like frost in the morning sun, “Yeah, that’s enough of that,” Yuqi says, pulling you away from his heat induced fixation.

Her grip on you is uncomfortably tight as she pulls you over to a corner where another person is working hard at a punching bag, each one of his strikes sending a powerful ripple through the tough canvas. The rhythm is hypnotic as he paces around the bag, his muscles surging with every hit. You stay back and watch for a moment, flinching as he assaults the bag with an unspoken aggression, years of pent up anger charged with each punch. Without even turning to address you, he snarls in an aggravated tone with his lips curled up, “Don’t bother, I already heard all the introductions.”

You raise an eyebrow and turn to Yuqi, finding yourself increasingly annoyed at the little respect you’ve been offered from the boys. “That’s Jake, another one of your trainees. Don’t mind him either… he’s a werewolf, so his hearing is enhanced, as well as all his other senses.” Yuqi looks around momentarily before connecting her hands together, turning to give you a small smile.

“Alright, I think you can find the last member assigned to you by yourself, but there is one more thing I’d like to show you,” she places a hand on your shoulder and guides you back over to the entrance. Gesturing upwards with her hand, she points to a glass booth that was suspended above the gym floor, facing the Enha Arena on the other side of the gym. “That’s our staff room. We have access to it 24/7, letting us control who enters and exits the Dusk Gym. Patrons will use the same entrance we came through with a staff to unlock the chains and everything, and we all leave through this one-way exit,” she points to a smaller door a few feet away from the entrance.

Looking over to where she points, you feel a sense of finality wash over you. The gym was starting to feel more and more like a fortress by the second, all the security features overwhelming your mind. “This isn’t just a gym, Y/n,” she says as if reading your mind, “It’s a sanctuary, and we take security here very seriously. Come find me in a few hours once you’re done, ok? I’ll be in the booth.”

With a final wave, Yuqi disappears up a staircase, leaving you by yourself with the few patrons that were still training. There were only four men in the gym, which meant the last one had to be Jay. Looking around, you spot him at the pull up bars, a grunt escaping him with each rep.

Sweat slickens your hands, and before moving, you hastily rub your hands up and down your leggings. “Hey,” you say, waving your hand. The boy hops off the pull up bar and looks at you expectantly with an eyebrow raised exceptionally high, “My name’s Y/n, I’m just introduced myself as the new gym trainer here.”

“The name is Jay, though I don’t think I’ll need much help…” he looks you up and down, his gaze terribly imposing as he takes you in, “... from you.”

You scoff at that, swallow the urge to get to know him better like a bitter pill. Like a switch, you narrow your golden eyes at the boy, refusing to let him brush you off like that, “If you want to fix that poor pull up form, you’ll want it,” your voice is rich with annoyance as you feel a deep sense of aggravation draw from within you.

He lets out an airy laugh, a breath of fire escaping his mouth as he does, “I don’t take advice from people who think ‘chin ups’ count as a real up.”

“Keep saying that when your protein shakes start tasting like the salt from your tears,” you shoot back, forcibly shoving him to the side, “And I don’t do chin ups,” Jay stumbles into the bar as his eyes begin to glow with an orange hue, an amused annoyance radiating off his warm body while a smirk creeps onto his face.

You jump onto the bar with ease, gripping the iron structure firmly before pulling yourself up in one fluid motion. With an almost annoying ease, you begin to pump out as many reps as possible, each one silently taunting him. Eventually, you drop back down to the floor once you find yourself losing count, letting your chest rise and fall with a feigned exertion.

“That’s cute, but half reps don’t count,” he declares, straightening his posture as the smirk on his face dies out like an old flame, “Now move, I’ll give you something to fucking count.”

You roll your eyes as you step back, letting him line up below the bar, “Did you need a spot, or can you get up there by yourself?” you tease, but he shuts you up with an angry grunt.

As he powers through each movement, every motion as fluid as your own, you catch a glimpse of red as his tank top moves with the speed of his reps. Red scales decorate a part of his lats and shoulders, shimmering like molten embers embedded in his skin, catching underneath the glint of the harsh lights hanging from the gym ceiling.

“Good job, Jay. Maybe you’ll graduate to a real pull up,” you say, a smirk playing its way onto your lips as you turn around. Without waiting for his response, you make your way towards the sound of metal banging on metal.

In another area of the gym is Heeseung, sitting at one of the high-end rowing machines, working up a sweat as his muscles flex under the synthetic material of his shirt. When you fall into his line of vision, he drops the grip to the row, “Can I help you?” he asks, his voice dripping with an allure as he eyes you up and down.

“I noticed your right shoulder was sagging, did you recently strain your rotator cuff?” you say, pointing at his shoulder.

He rubs the shoulder in question, feeling for the pain and nods his head, “Some bitch twisted me into the ring ropes of the arena, fucked up my shoulder and everything,” he grunts, moving it around as if to show he was still in pain, “I was just going to let it heal itself.” He moves to pick the grip back up, wincing as he pulls backwards on the heavy weight attached to it.

Without thinking, you reach out to him and place your hand over his, pulling back when he flinches away from your touch. “Sorry, but you’re just going to make it worse if you keep going,” you tell him, “Can I touch your shoulder?”

He drops the grip again, letting it hit the metal bar in the middle of the machine with a loud clang before looking at you with a coy smile, “Be my guest.”

You ignore the obvious tease in his voice and step closer to him, reaching your palm out to cover the curve of his shoulder. A quiet hush falls between the two of you as warmth diffuses from your hand while a soft orange glow emanates from your palm. The warmth intensifies as it spreads over his shoulders like liquid fire, seeping into his muscle until you feel the tautness melt away.

Heeseung’s red eyes widen slightly as he pulls away from your touch, rolling his shoulders back, “What the hell was that?”

“I’m a phoenix,” you say simply, amusement flickering across your face as you watch astonishment cross his features, his stoic mask dropping for a brief moment.

“Shit, didn’t think I’d ever meet one,” he mutters under his breath, quickly resuming his workout to test out his newfound repairment.

A twinge of sadness tugs on your heart as his words settle over you like a heavy weight pressing you to acknowledge the sad truth of the fact. You force a smile, despite his focus being elsewhere, “Yeah, we’re quite rare now,” you say more to yourself than him, an affirmation of the loneliness written into the stars. Your thoughts are burdened by the inescapable truth: you’ll never encounter another phoenix as there can only ever be one solitary ember burning in this world, destined to rise and fall until their purpose is fulfilled. At least that’s what Google says.

Heeseung finishes his set as you stand back awkwardly, unsure of what to do, “You should spend some time with Niki, he tends to hurt himself a lot during training. Usually Minnie helps, but she can only do so much with a sports medicine degree.”

“Who is Minnie?”

Heeseung stands up from the machine, seemingly done with rowing, “She’s just another trainer here. She works with Sunoo, Jungwon, and Niki.” He explains, using a towel to clean the seat on the row machine, “There are some other trainers, like Yuqi, who work with the casuals, but the seven of us are Dusk and Dawn regulars. We kind of hold the fort down here.”

“Good to know, thanks,” you say with a quick nod. When he starts to move to another machine, you don’t follow him and instead offer him a quick wave goodbye, “I’ll see you around, Heeseung.” When he nods you off, you leave the gym, ascending the same staircase Yuqi had used earlier to head up to the office. Reaching the top, you’re met with a short hallway. At the end, a single door on the left catches your eye- the staff room. With a quick knock, you enter the room to find Yuqi sitting at a large desk with several monitors in front of her, security camera footage running across each screen.

Hearing you enter, she swivels her chair around, a large smile on her face as her snake eyes long and you, “Just the person I wanted to see!” she exclaims, waving her hand for you to come over, “Looks like you’re getting along quite well with the boys, so I’ll go ahead and email you the schedule for their training sessions and the journal I was telling you about earlier. Their next match is in two weeks, so you’ll be preparing for that.” She turns to grab something from her desk, reading for a worn out leather journal, “You did more than enough today, so study this journal and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, placing the item in your arms with a satisfied nod. You take the tattered journal from her, the weight of its content acting as a tangible reminder of the crazy few hours you just had.

When you exit the building, the early morning air hits you like a slap, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. The streets were devoid of any governmental presence now, too much of a commitment for them to maintain any vigilance past 3 a.m. You knew they’d be back on the streets around 12 p.m., and that the neighborhood would soon be populated with moms and their strollers and people walking to work by 7 a.m. the earliest. So this four hour period in which the streets were abandoned was something the supernatural community knew well, a time slot in which the supernatural could leave their homes and stretch their legs without having to worry so much about being caught.

As you walk home, you see figures blur by you at an unnatural speed while others propel themselves dozens of feet into the air, skipping across roofs. It was a testament to what the human eye could only deem as a fantasy, but to you, it was an unspoken reality that only thrived in the quietness of the early morning. Even during this time, though, there were still limits. Elemental abilities were still kept at bay- no one dared to bend water or fire in public so openly, no matter the hour of the day. Those who did wield such powers stuck to minute things like changing the temperature of their body or whispering the flicker of heat into an angry flame.

And you knew there was still a whole other realm of abilities you weren’t aware of, tucked away beyond layers of secrecy the supernatural world was too scared to show. There was only so much research you could scour online before it became repetitive and almost theorized by rumors. The shame of living in a universe where it was illegal to exist gnawed at you everyday, and you were becoming desperate for life beyond scratching the surface of freedom. Each moment spent outside of your home left you with an aching curiosity, questions unanswered indefinitely.

But with the journal Yuqi gave you, clutched tightly in your grasp, you had a sliver of hope. Maybe it wouldn't grant you the freedom you’ve wanted for the supernatural all these years, but you hoped it could answer some of the questions that have been burning at the back of your head since your parents kicked you out.

When you arrive at the steps of your rundown apartment complex, you slowly make your way up the creaky stairs until you slip inside the dimly lit studio. Flicking the light switch on, you watch as a single bulb pathetically sputters to life, casting a faint glow across the room. There’s a lack of light in the hours where the sun doesn’t shine through your one window that acts as a source of constant frustration for you, making it nearly impossible for you to see without the flashlight from your phone or the fire from your fingers. But with your new job and new paychecks, you’re starting to hope you’ll be able to find a place that has bulbs stronger than a meager 40 watts.

With an exasperated sigh, you throw your belongings onto your patchwork couch and change into an old shirt and panties. As much as you wanted to dive into the journal that Yuqi had so generously given you, the dim lighting of your apartment made it almost impossible to read. You could’ve used the flashlight on your phone, but the lack of a working outlet left you unable to charge it if it died. And as much as you would’ve liked to cast a pretty flame from your fingertips, they were far too much of a fire hazard inside the old wooden walls of your studio apartment. Instead, you decide it’d be best to just wait until the early afternoon when the sunlight enters your window naturally.

When the sun rays do filter through your window, you spring upwards in bed, your body restless despite the pitiful amount of hours you managed to snag. For the first time in years, your night wasn’t consumed with a monotonous amount of homework or the glow of online workout videos in a lonely room. Instead- no matter how chaotic- you had a new purpose. You were exhilarated to keep going, fuelled by only a few hours of sleep yet ready to take on the next few days coursing with energy- a trait Phoenixes prided themselves upon: resilience.

With a precise stretch, you reach over to your desk and grab the journal you set aside from earlier. Nestling back into bed, you open the first page to reveal a comprehensive list of all the supernatural beings that had ever attended Dusk and Dawn over the years. Your eyes scan through the list of names, a mess of words that bleed onto the next page. Some are expected, familiar even- werewolves, vampires, dragons, griffins- but there are some that catch you off guard: valkyries, kitsunes, fairies, centaurs, and many more. Yet, you notice that not a single phoenix appears on the list, and it leaves an invisible weight sitting on your shoulders.

Moving through the next few pages, the entries become more and more detailed as they start to divulge into each patron, starting with Heeseung. His name is scrawled out on the top of the page in fancy letters, and underneath it readers ‘Vampire.’ A barely legible sketch of his face is drawn next to his name and you let out a soft laugh as you trace your finger over the old led before drawing your eyes down to Heeseung’s written description.

Heeseung came to Dusk and Dawn seven years ago, seeking for a way to cope with the anger of his parents abandoning him at the age of 16. He has been a general joy to have, often participating diligently in activities and putting his best foot forward in matches. Throughout his years at Dusk and Dawn, staff has observed that when pushed too far, Heeseung enters a state known as vampiric rage. Symptoms include: severe blood lust, glowing red eyes, feeding compulsion, disturbed/over enhanced senses, uncontrollable aggression, and predatory behavior. It is recommended he be taken into isolation when this occurs until he calms down

Power descriptions: hypnotic gaze, enhanced senses (strength, smell, sight, hearing), night vision, super speed. Please revise if necessary

You swallow the lump in your throat when you finish reading his entry, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach as you turn to the next page. Jongseong is the next name you see, and in parentheses the name Jay is written next to it with a large ‘Dragon’ scrawled underneath it. There’s another half-hearted sketch drawn next to it, and you notice the birth mark added to his neck, a darker patch on the left side of his neck.

Jay first came to Dusk and Dawn a few months after Heeseung, bringing a similar energy as the latter. Shaped by the self-resilient upbringing he developed under The Veil’s guidance, he has showcased a few profound characteristics that stand out during training. His past cultivates a very competitive spirit that is landmarked by a web of complex trust issues, resulting in a volatile temperature which resembles that of a pressure cooker.

Power descriptions: scale armor, pyrokinesis, enhanced strength. Please revise if necessary

On the next two pages are profiles for Jake and Sunghoon, the last two members Yuqi said you would be training. Beneath Sunghoon’s name are the words ‘Frost Elf’, and ‘Werewolf’ beneath Jakes.

Jake joined Dusk and Dawn shortly after Jay and Heeseung with a unique backstory, coming from a lineage of other werewolves, he sought out this place after losing his family during an attack. His personality fluctuates heavily between being quite friendly and open to acting quite aggressive and aloof. During full moons and times of overstimulation, he struggles with the primal side of his werewolf blood coming into full effect: excessive aggression, overprotection of his packmates, animalistic instincts, and loss of rationality. Jake should be carefully monitored for any signs of depression d/t history of family loss

Power descriptions: enhanced senses (smell, hearing, speed, strength), healing saliva (minor wounds), scent tracker, lethal bites and scratches. Please revise if necessary

Below Jake’s profile is Sunghoon’s.

Sunghoon joined a day after Jake with the primary goal of fighting people. Like Jay, he has navigated the challenges of all life stages by himself and upon joining Dusk and Dawn, he openly admitted to struggling with recognizing emotional cues and controlling his powers. It has become evident over the years that Sunghoon has made significant progress in developing his abilities, yet he often chooses to not exercise control unless absolutely necessary. Rather, he tends to resort to violence when provoked, that he just “doesn’t care” as stated by Sunghoon himself.

Power descriptions: cryokinesis, frost armor, temperature manipulation/aura. Please revise if necessary

Upon finishing Sunghoon’s entry, an overwhelming sense of responsibility descends over your shoulders, prompting you to close the book and reflect. The solemn history of these four members has you reconsidering your qualifications, debating whether you’re just in over your head and blinded by the hourly wage of your new job. Did you have the societal experience to connect with them and guide them in the way that Yuqi was expecting you to? Really, they too grew up alone or abandoned at some point in their life, isolated from the real world- but they had more time to learn about the real world through Dusk and Dawn than you did. What right did you have to go ordering them around and telling them what to do?

Heeseung had previously mentioned that there were three other regulars that attended the gym, but because they weren’t training with you, you decided it’d be best to wait until you met them before reading their entries. Right now, your immediate focus was on sharpening your own skills.

So with your renewed determination, you divulge into a whirlwind of rigorous training. The next few hours leading up to your second training shift is filled with a relentless cycle of speed drills and high-intensity circuits designed to test your endurance. Your goal wasn’t to just be stronger- you already had that. Instead, you aimed to outlast the boys. Stamina would be your greatest asset working at Dusk and Dawn.

After who knows how many hours, your phone alarm goes off indicating you had one hour left before your next shift started. You take that time to shower and clean up, taking an especially hot shower. Clad in a new pair of leggings and tank top, you walk back to the gym, retracing the same alleyways and backroads as you did the night before.

“Hi, Yuqi.” you say, greeting the serpent hybrid supernatural sitting behind the front desk. She's got her head tilted down with some magazine in her hands, her black framed glasses perched low on her nose as she reads.

She acknowledges you with a low hiss, her forked tongue flicking up and down in the air. “Here are some keys,” she says, tossing a set of keys at you to which you catch mid-air. “Take the boys into the elemental training room when they get here, you’ll learn about their abilities there. It’s just Niki in there right now”

With the keys in one hand and your backpack strap tucked in the other, you make your way down the familiarly dim hallway where that same iron door stands at the end, wrapped in a chain of metal. Laying against the rusting door were at least three padlocks, and after a minute of figuring out which key goes where, you push open the door to reveal the glory of the Dusk gym once again.

The familiar clang of weights hitting against one another fills the air, echoing through the large auditorium as you walk in. Setting your bag down against a long black bench beside one of the cement pillars, your eyes draw in on a tall, unfamiliar boy whom you presume to be Niki, working out in front of the numerous mirrors lining the gym. As you approach him, you can’t help but let your focus fall on the way the vein in his bicep bulges with every rep, straining when the dumbbells press against his chest. You lean against a machine nearby, momentarily forgetting your intent to introduce yourself to him. “Looking for something?” he says, glancing at you through the mirror. Your attention snaps back up to respond, but he’s not there.

“I’m right here, sweetie.” the voice continues to tease, this time coming from behind. You spin around, your gaze travelling the area as you look for the source but to no avail.

A dark laugh that seems to only fill your thoughts starts overwhelming you, the absurdness of the voices in your head making you spin. Shutting your eyes, you will the laughter to go away. Suddenly, a tap on your shoulder jolts you out of your thoughts and the laughter comes to a stop. Opening your eyes, your gaze finally lands on the boy you saw in the mirror, his sharp eyes glaring down on you with a mischievous glint, “So you’re the infamous trainer I’ve heard so much about.” He says, leaning down to match your height.

You clear your throat, “That’s correct. And I’m assuming you’re Niki?” Stepping back, you attempt to create some distance from the relatively tall boy standing before you.

He nods his head, letting the fringe of his black hair fall into his eyes. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, stepping into your space despite your previous attempt to distance yourself. He bites his lip as his mouth curves into a devious smile, eyes darkening. Reaching for your hand, he interlocks his fingers in yours, “So you’re a phoenix…”

He brings your hands up to your vision so that the both of you can see, his large hand almost devouring yours completely, “I can play with fire too.” He says, squeezing your hand harshly. Suddenly, a glow of embers envelopes your hands completely, a scalding heat spreading between you both as his powers force yours out as well.

But as quickly as the fire emits, it extinguishes, a flash of blue striking the flame and leaving only a cloud of smoke in its wake. “Cut it out, Niki,” a voice calls from a distance. Turning to the sound, you see a boy with ashy brown hair approaching you with graceful strides, “We’re not supposed to use our elements in the gym, there’s a specific place for that.”

“Alright, Katara.”

“It’s Sunoo, not Katara.” The boy corrects, bowing to you.

“Could’ve fooled me with that water bending of yours,” Niki pesters, squeezing Sunoo’s ears after letting go of your hand.

Sunoo gives Niki a face as he swats the taller boy’s hand away from him, shooting him a darkened glare that leaves Niki in a slight daze. “Are you guys ever gonna act like your age, or are we stuck with the mental capacity of a 10 year old?” a voice calls from behind. Sunghoon’s chilling voice pierces through the air as he comes into view, casually dressed in a pair of gray sweats and white tank, a disturbing contrast to his arrogance. He shoves his hands into his pockets before adding, “You guys are fucking children.”

An arctic freeze radiates off of his otherwise relaxed body and Niki begins to tremble, angrily flicking his arm to emit a glow of fire that crawls up his arm and down his torso. “Stop using your temperature manipulation on us, Yuqi said you’re supposed to control that shit,” Sunoo scolds, moving closer to Niki to feel his fire.

You roll your eyes, feeling bored of their tense exchange. “Enough, just get into the training room before you rip each other’s heads off.” you demand, your voice laced with annoyance. The boys grumble in response, muttering things that you don’t bother to decipher as they walk into a dark room tucked away in the back of the auditorium. When you enter, you flick the light on to reveal a large gray room, both its floor and walls adorned with the same glossy stone material- though they’re marked up by what you assume is years of burn marks and blunt force. The room is a quarter the size of the gym, holding an abundance of training dummies and bullseyes; amongst other things.

“Line up here,” you say, pointing to the back of the room. They kick their shoes off before stepping onto the black gym mats, moving in silence. “I’ll have you guys each target train on a dummy so I can get a gauge of your guys’ skills. If you don’t have an ability that requires target training, just don’t line up.” You say as you kick your own shoes off.

Before you can continue, an out of breath voice interrupts you, “Am I late?”

You turn around to see the silhouette of a boy who seems to have run all the way here. Rather than answering, you nod your head to the mat in annoyance, “Who are you?”

“Jungwon,” he offers, presenting you with a smile to which the pits of his dimples show. For a second, your shield of authority falters for a brief second when your eyes pass over his grin, but you’re quick to pick it back up as you address Sunghoon.

“Sunghoon, can you tell me what each of these boys are?” He opens his mouth to complain, but you catch on to the change in his demeanor rather quickly, “Without complaining.”

He bites his lip, grumbling something under his breath before proceeding. “Niki is a kitsune- a childish one at that. Sunoo is a siren, and Jungwon is a shapeshifter. And I’m a frost elf, but I’m hoping you already knew that.”

Looking down at your watch, you frown when you realize that more than half of your own group is missing and you were supposed to start ten minutes ago. “Ok, let’s start,” you annoy, stepping off to the side.

“Shouldn’t we spar? We already know how to target train,” Sunghoon tests, cinching his eyebrows together in annoyance.

“Did I ask?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow at him. “Sunoo, go first.”

Sunoo grins, dramatically flicking away a strand of hair from his face before stepping forward. He steadies himself, planting his feet firmly on the floor before narrowing his fox-like eyes at the dummy across the room. In one graceful motion, a stream of water burst from his hands, gradually growing in volume before he thrusts his hands forward, sending a jet of water towards the target. The liquid splits down the middle as it moves through the air, weaving around itself before slamming into the target.

When it hits, Sunoo begins to sing- his voice a piercing yet soothing high that seems to resonate with the movement of the water. The liquid responds, wrapping around the target like a mermaid’s tail, constricting the target more and more with every second. When Sunoo’s voice fades, the water falls, limp of any life it once had.

“Well done,” you say, giving him a nod of acknowledgement, “But I’m worried about your singing. You become quite vulnerable when you sing, though your water becomes very powerful when you do, so come up with a way to make yourself safe before performing something like that.”

Sunoo smiles at you as he accepts your critiques, stepping aside. He brushes past Sunghoon with a smirk you don’t quite catch and the responding boy pushes him into the wall. You nod to Sunghoon next, who steps forward to take his spot, his confidence radiating in a piercing chill around him. He doesn’t wait for further instruction before he’s raising his hand to eye level, creating a razor-sharp shard of ice that cuts through the air and tears straight into the dummy’s chest with cunning precision. Upon impact, the ice splinters, shattering the dummy beyond repair.

Before you can offer your commentary, Sunghoon’s launching himself into a side-flip, a long blade of ice forming in his hands mid-air. When he lands, the floor beneath him transforms into a sheet of ice. With amazing ease, he glides towards the other dummies and wields the blade of ice into each target with a lethalness that has you flinching.

His chest heaves up and down as the ice underneath him dissipates, returning the floor back to its original material. He carries himself with a cold arrogance, his head thrown back as he walks back to the line. “What the hell…” you whisper, not catching the way your eyes ravage his body, his veins bulging out of his arms. Sweat glistens down his porcelain skin and you subconsciously rub your thighs together to quell the unnatural feeling in your core.

“He’s hot, right?” a voice from behind you whispers, loud enough for only you to hear. You turn around only to see Jake standing beside you, just inches away from.

“When the hell did you get here?”

“When Sunoo finished, but you were too busy ogling at Sunghoon to notice.”

“I was not ogling, I was evaluating,” you correct, taking a step away. Jake is quick to compensate for the pathetic distance you try to put between you and him, bringing his body even closer than it was before until you can feel the heat of his body radiate off onto yours. He’s taller than you, not as much as the others, but enough to make you want to crawl inside of yourself and disappear as he breathes in your exhales.

“I may just be a werewolf, a mutt as some of the boys like to call me, but I’m just as strong as Sunghoon,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Maybe even stronger.”

His voice sends a rush of heat down to your core, only adding on to the slick that’s coated the seat of your panties. Fueled by a mix of arousal and anger, you force yourself to choose the latter to control your next decisions. Stomping on his foot, hard, you give Jake a throaty snarl, “Get in the damn line.”

Jake smirks, ignoring the pain that shoots up his foot, “I just know you’re gonna be begging for me soon,” he whispers once more before sauntering off to stand next to Jungwon.

“Well?” Sunghoon’s voice pulls you out of your own mental storm and you look up at him, “Any comments, Ms. Y/n?”

“Dial it back a bit,” is all you say, nodding at Niki next. Sunghoon rolls his eyes, biting back a smirk as he plays oblivious to the fact that he didn’t just catch the way you watched his every move as he walked back into the line, staring at him like a bitch in heat. Just like all the others, he thinks to himself as he watches Niki step up to the spot he was in originally.

Niki is your focus of attention now, steadying himself into a ready position before allowing his body to engulf in a rage of flames. He strides towards the group of targets, flaming embers dripping off of him like a molten sweat as he approaches. As he moves closer, a swirl of fire surrounds the targets and fills the air with an eerie, high-pitched laughter that echoes off the walls. The swarm of fire morphs into a crowd of sinister faces that leer at the targets, hauntingly paralyzing if you were to look them in the eye. It’s disorienting, even to watch as a spectator on the sidelines as the faces transform into flaming spears that shoot into the dummies- a copycat of Sunghoon’s ice shards.

The room immediately fills with smoke as the targets burst into flames, smoke stinging your eyes. Sunoo jumps into action then, dousing the fiery targets with a storm of water, clearing out the smoke. The room is silent except for the soft sizzling of the dummies rematerializing in front of you as brand new, like some sort of magic. “Alright, Jake is useless with elements and Jungwon would rather spar than copy our powers, so can we finally start hitting each other?” Sunghoon asks, breaking the tension in the room.

Jake lets out a growl, slamming his fist into Sunghoon’s unsuspecting body, “Suck my cock.”

In a matter of seconds, Sunghoon’s dark brown eyes transition into a furiously bright blue, his hand materializing a razor-sharp ice blade. He lunges towards Jake, raising his arm up at the boy to attack but you step in immediately, a burst of flames surrounding you as you teleport to Sunghoon’s side. “Enough!” you yell out, Sunghoon’s arm held tightly in your hand. “No more of these stupid fights unless it’s during an official match or sparring. And Sunghoon,” you twist his shoulder until he’s wincing, “I will not have you slicing Jake open with your blades of ice.”

You bring your hand down to grip the girth of his ice-blade before looking at the others, “Go to the damn ring and put your wraps on. Now.”

As the group begins to exit, you catch Sunghoon’s arm with a sharp glare. “Not so fast.,” you mutter. A surge of heat pulses through your palm and immediately melts his blade, the crystalline weapon quickly losing its shape and dripping onto the padded floor. With a final shove, you send him stumbling to the ground.

“What the fuck, Y/n?” He hisses, shooting you a blue-eyed glare.

“Out.” You hiss with finality, watching with your eyes as he stomps out of the room. The door slams behind him, echoing with the anger he harbors towards your actions. You could care less- finally alone for a brief moment. You draw in a deep breath, an attempt at steadying your racing pulse. The air is thick with apprehension and you feel a knot developing in your shoulders, one that likely wouldn’t have developed if it weren’t for the boys’ constant bickering. There’s a frustration that bubbles beneath your authoritative facade, one that’s bordering the lines of blowing up.

You lean against the wall and close your eyes for a brief moment, taking that second to let the darkness consume you. In that moment of peaceful blindness, you seek solace in the unknown- almost yearning for your life in isolation to come back. “It’s nice to see someone keep the boys in line,” the voice has you opening your eyes, focusing in on a girl that steps out from the shadows of the training room. Her pink eyes sparkle with warmth as she approaches you, a broad smile painting her face.

“Are you Minnie?”

“What gave it away?” she giggles, “Sorry, something came up yesterday during your orientation so I couldn’t meet with you, but I’ll be able to spend some time with you today.” She takes a hold of your hand, humming softly as a warm glow radiates between the connections.

Her gesture sends a wave of relaxation through your tense body, easing the knot in your shoulders as the light travels through your veins. “I’m a light fairy,” she explains, “one of my powers is to calm people down through touch.”

You smile into her touch, placing your free hand atop your connected ones, “I may need you around me indefinitely,” you prod at the tense air gently, though deep down you both know it’s not entirely a joke. The weight of everything despite it only being your second day was already feeling like too much. Her warmth was like a much needed respite.

Minnie laughs again, infecting you with a joy you didn’t think was possible. When the light between your hands fades, she pulls you out of the room. “Boys!” she exclaims as she approaches the ring, waving at the group of boys who have started warming up. You notice Jay and Heeseung are already there.

Sunoo and Jungwon are the only ones that bother to look up, waving back excitedly before rushing to the edge of the arena, leaning on the rope rings to peer down at the two of you. “Hi noona!” Jungwon says, reaching his hand out toward Minnie.

Minnie connects her hand with his and closes her eyes, a ball of light transferring between their intertwined fingers, “Are you gonna calm them down?” she whispers, a soft melody that could make you fall asleep. Jungwon nods, letting the light dance along his skin before it dissolves when he disconnects their hands and bounds back to the boys to tussle around with them. With his back turned, Minnie looks at you with a melancholic gaze, one that doesn’t really match her vibrant energy from earlier, “The older boys don’t let me touch them, they’re a bit closed off like that, but I get it,” her voice drops off as her gaze drifts back to the older members, a longing sadness in her eyes. Though it doesn’t last long before she turns back to face you, “When they get riled up, Jungwon copies my powers temporarily and does the same thing I did with you. They seem to trust him the most.”

You turn to watch Jungwon, his hands subtly climbing the backs of the older boys as a soft luminescent glow of light identical to Minnie’s pulses from his fingertips and transcends through their bodies. He continues to mess around with them, shadow boxing with the elders as each one of them slowly let their defenses fall.

“My boys don’t get as angry as yours,” Minnie continues, running a hand through her blonde hair. “I think that’s why Yuqi paired me with them. She knows I can only handle so much negativity as a fairy.” She pauses to glance over at the boys once more, smiling when she sees Jungwon’s head stuck in between Sunghoon’s arms- a sisterly affection radiating off of her body. “I think their outbursts are what made the old gym trainer quit. If I’m being honest, they’re quite dangerous when their emotions get the best of them. They’re rough around the edges, but they’re good people on the inside.”

Her words spark a curiosity deep inside of you, and you press on for more info as you continue to watch them from outside of the arena. “Have they known each other for a long time?” You ask, noticing their sibling like energy, despite the tension from earlier.

“I think some of the boys have known each other since they were in the community, and others have just met a year ago when they joined the gym. But they all get along differently, some are really close while others aren’t.” She gives you a grim smile, “I think Sunghoon’s got the most complicated relationships out of all of them. Frost elves aren’t exactly known to be friendly, but he’s different with these boys. I dont think he’d ever really hurt them- at least not seriously. He really cares for them, he just lets his emotions get the best of him.”

Her candid assessment of Sunghoon roots you to the spot, prompting you to process her words right then. You had noticed something too- he was especially closed off when you first met him. There was a storm in his eyes when his gaze landed on yours, one that seemed to cloud his judgement. It was raw and unfiltered, hiding what you felt was a war of control in the back of his mind behind a fog of indifference.

Shaking your head, you give Minnie a grateful nod and gesture to the ring, “Should we get started?” Her face lights up and she slips into the arena, lifting the ropes up for you as you follow after her. You bounce against the padded cushion of the ring, adjusting to the flooring before addressing the group of boys before you. “Let’s start off with Jake and Jay, no powers. Just pure strength and skill.”

Jake and Jay separate from their impromptu shadow boxing match, leaving the other boys to move off to the side, leaning against the ropes like its routine; varying levels of interest on their faces. Sunghoon’s got his arms crossed with a bored expression across his face, like he could be doing anything else than watch other people fight. Next to him, Niki looks intrigued, his head slightly tilted like a little puppy as he awaits the match. The rest of the boys seem indifferent, neither bored nor interested as if they’ve seen this a million times.

In the center of the ring now is Jay and Jake, facing each other as they steady themselves in their own personal ready positions. Jake has his right foot forward, his hands up to his face in a rather tense position as he narrows his eyes at Jay. The latter is more calm, his posture relaxed while his hands are held loosely at his face. “Go.”

Jake is the first to move, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet as he sizes up Jay, initiating an unspoken agreement to move counter-clockwise in the arena. The two boys circle around one another for a few seconds, each step heavy with tension as their gazes become predatory. Jay throws the first punch, lunging forward with a fast left jab, but Jake anticipates his movement and strides to the side, allowing Jay to graze his ear. Jay overcompensates and passes Jake, barely stumbling forward while Jake’s lip curls into a grin, laughter erupting from his belly.

Rolling his eyes, Jay kicks his foot back, connecting with the back of Jake’s knee. In an instant, Jake is on the ground, dead-legged by his opponent. “Dumbass,” Jay mutters, smirking to himself when he turns around. He steps back, allowing Jake to get back up.

Jake regains his composure quickly, rolling his shoulders back and stretching his neck. Jay moves in one more time- using his right arm this time as he aims for Jake’s jaw, but he ducks out of the way again, throwing a left hook into Jay’s side. The force of his punch has Jay gasping for air, hunching over from the velocity as he staggers back to catch his breath. It doesn’t hurt, but rather knocks the wind out of him. There’s a brief silence as Jay quickly catches his breath, steadying himself as he gives Jake the chance to go on the offense this time.

Sweat is beading on both of their foreheads now as the tension in the air thickens. You watch as Jake begins to circle around Jay again like a predator stalking his prey, locking eyes on him once more. With lightning speed, Jake flies forward to uppercut Jay’s jaw, blood flying in the air as Jay bites down on his tongue- hard. Jay doesn’t falter though, immediately responding with a jab and two crosses to Jake’s face. They stumble away from each other for a brief second before going at it again, throwing a mess of punches and kicks at each other until they can barely hold themselves up.

You get a good look at their faces once they separate- a thick stream of blood spills from Jay’s chin, the familiar taste of metallic filling his mouth. He smiles, teeth bloodied as he’s reminded of the adrenaline from fighting- a chemical surge of power. He brings a wrist to his lip, pulling back to see bright red staining his skin. When he looks at Jake, he observes his best friend in a similar state, a jagged cut across his eyebrow and blood gushing from his left nostril. You don’t even want to imagine the bruises developing beneath their clothes where they clutch at themselves like a kicked puppy.

You step forward, wincing at the blood staining their faces. “Alright, that’s enough,” you say, looking over at their hunched over figures. Jake and Jay, flushed out and breathing heavily begin to unwrap their boxing wraps. Limping to the middle of the ring, they exchange a quick handshake and slap on the back before slipping out of the ring to clean themselves up at the benches. The pungent mixture of sweat and iron has you cringing when it slams into your senses, causing you to wrinkle your nose up in disgust. “We’ll take a quick break and then I’ll have Sunghoon and Heeseung spar next.”

Before you can turn away, a voice- unfamiliar and brooding- slices through the murmur of conversation amongst the group. “Mind if I hop in?” You whirl around to the source of the voice, your gaze landing on a figure taller than everyone in the room standing just a few feet away from the arena. He’s clad in a black zip up jacket and white sweats that hang loosely around his lean, athletic build, “My name’s K. Just signed up at the front desk.”

You tilt your head to the side as you take in his presence. There’s something unsettling about him. The air around him seems dark, hanging off of his frame like a suicide gone wrong. There’s a ringing in your ears as you debate whether or not to let him spar, and without realizing it, Jake steps in front of you. Glancing over at Heeseung, he nods, a look of challenge lighting up in his eyes. “Alright, you can go up against Heeseung. Just give them a few minutes.”

Ten minutes go by quickly and Heeseung is back in the ring along with the others. He’s quick to get into position, hands raised to the front of his face as he plants his feet firmly into the mat of the ring. K lines himself up across from Heeseung in a similar position, ready to start but you hold your hand out. “K, I want to know who you are before starting.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face as he keeps his eyes locked on Heeseung, “You’ll figure it out soon enough, sweetheart.” He taunts, and before you can press further, he lunges.

Heeseung doesn’t hesitate, sidestepping out of K’s trajectory at an almost inhumane speed. As K’s fist whistles past Heeseung’s face, he counters the attack with a right hook aimed towards K’s gut. It doesn’t work as K snaps his body around to catch Heeseung’s punch with an iron-like grip. Heeseung’s eyes widen momentarily but he recovers quickly as he twists his arm out, driving a knee into the taller boy’s stomach.

Again, K blocks the attack and with a violent twist, throws Heeseung to the edge of the ring that you’re standing at. You along with Jungwon, Niki, and Jake quickly separate to make room for Heeseung’s body before he slams against the rubber ropes, landing on the ground with a loud thud. He’s quick to recover, his vampiric speed allowing him to regain his composure within milliseconds. With a new anger raging through him, Heeseung bares his fangs at K as sweat drips down his temple.

K’s smirk never fades as he runs at Heeseung, his fist flying through the air as he closes in on him, but Heeseung dodges. A mirage of relentless punches and kicks are thrown at Heeseung, but he dodges each one by a hair. Quickly fatigued by the sporadic movement, K’s motions become slower and in a moment of weakness, Heeseung delivers a swift uppercut to K’s jaw followed by a sequence of jabs that are delivered with a savage intensity that only a vampire at full strength could display. The force of his blows sends blood gushing from K’s face, his features splitting open in an unattractive display.

K staggers back, suddenly caught off guard by the sheer force of Heeseung’s assault. In a heartbeat, the air shifts and K’s demeanor changes from that of a playfully oppressive gaze to one of a lethal intent. When Heeseung throws one more punch, K catches his fist in his palm mid-air and uses his momentum to slam him into the ground with a bone-cracking force, the impact knocking all of the wind out of Heeseung.

A guttural sound rips from Heeseung’s mouth when his back hits the pad, the impact leaving him clawing for air as you take a step forward out of instinct. Niki’s hand grips your shoulder and he pulls you back, holding you there firmly as he drops his hand down to your forearm. “You worthless vampire,” K whispers, a black tendril stretching out from K’s hand. When you see the shadows unfurl from K’s palm, your breath catches and you move to intervene right as Heeseung’s own red tendrils flare to life, his red eyes glowing with rage. He kicks under K’s hold, their shadows a mess of anger as they collide against each other.

“Enough!” you shout, cutting through the brutal stalemate they seem to be locked into.

K releases Heeseung from his hold, his sinister shadows immediately flowing back into his slender hands while Heeseung rolls away from under him, his chest heaving up and down. “What the hell was that?” you shout, fury boiling under the surface as you clench your fists.

K leans down to match your height, his gaze locking on yours as his eyes cloud over with a black haze, “I’m a necromancer.” He says, his voice dripping with challenge.

A snarl erupts from your throat, barely restrained by the thread of resolve you hold for yourself as you throw a deadly glare at K, “That doesn’t give you the fucking right to try and kill him during practice!” You accuse, the heaviness in your voice punctuated by the chilling tension in the air. You let out a long, shaky sight and rush over to reach for Heeseung, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” You murmur, trying to gauge his emotions.

He flinches under your touch, roughly pulling away from you before giving you a barely noticeable nod, lips held in a tight line as he refuses to meet your concerned gaze. You tongue your cheek with worry as you watch him slip out of the ring and head into the changing rooms, leaving you standing there in the middle of the ring while the rest of the boys pretend to not have watched the whole exchange. A complicated knot of guilt settles in your stomach as you think about what to do, torn between following after him and just staying put.

You’ve only known the boy for a day- barely enough time for you to feel entitled to his trust or to chase after him. In fact, you’ve only known the gym for a day- but there was something sharp that twisted inside of you after seeing him like that.

With a shaky sigh, you turn around but you’re caught off guard when you see Sunoo’s eyes wash over you, but his eyes are vacant, as if he’s looking right through you. His expression is dulled by a glassy sheen, holding a deeper understanding that you can’t quite grasp and it makes the knife in your stomach twist just that much more.

“I think we’re done for today,” You look back at K before slipping out of the ring, ““K, I don’t want to ever see you pulling that shit again.” The atmosphere is thick with hostility as you start to clean up, thick enough you could choke on it. Throwing a bloodied rag into a nearby laundry bin, you spot Yuqi entering the gym, her snake eyes narrowed on K.

You watch as she zips towards him in quick, determined strides. Within seconds, she’s face to face with K, thrusting her hand at his neck. She grabs onto his long neck with a vice-like grip, strangling him. With her serpent-like strength, she slams him into a nearby pillar, the impact echoing through the gym loud enough to have the boys flicking their heads up. K’s eyes widen in shock as he claws at her arm, his arrogant facade breaking as his back slides against the concrete pillar.

“If you ever hurt one of my patrons like that again, I will have you blacklisted from Dusk and Dawn in an instant,” she hisses, her forked tongue flicking out to spray a mist of black venom on his face. The effect is instant, liquid smoke curling up from his skin as the venom sizzles into his flesh, leaving red blisters on his face. She tightens her fingers around his throat for just a second before letting go, letting her threat hang in the air like old laundry.

When she leaves, your mouth hangs open in shock, “You’re catching flies.” Sunghoon says, nudging your chin closed.

You purse your lips, ignoring him as you clasp your hands in an attempt to regain some composure. “Alright…” you trail off, still reeling from the confrontation between Yuqi and K. “Before you guys leave, I’d like to have a one-on-one conversation with each of you. I’ll be over by the benches when you’re ready.”

Despite being able to feel the pounding of your own heartbeat in your damn throat, you stride over to where the benches are, forcing your steps to remain steady and confident. You refuse to show the boys any hints of fear or inferiority, not like the first day.

As you sit down on the benches, you notice Jake is the first one to approach, his presence commanding as ever when he enters your space. “Jake,” you say, patting the spot beside you.

He doesn’t move, rather adjusts the strap on his gym bag that’s slung over his shoulder as he continues to stand in front of you.

“You really should sit. This isn’t supposed to be a quick chat.” You respond, noticing his restraint. “I’m not asking.”

Sighing, he drops onto the bench, letting his bag fall to the floor with a loud thud. “Alright, what’d you need?”

Cutting straight to the point, you ask your first question, “Are you friends with all the boys?”

Jake lets out a deep laugh, his canines flashing at you when he does. “Really? That’s what you want to know?” You roll your eyes, smacking him. “Ok, well I guess you could say we’re all pretty tight. But Sunghoon, he’s a dick through and through, but I know him well enough. I’ve been at this gym for six years now?”

You’re not surprised to hear about his comments towards Sunghoon, his earlier bickering with him being evidence enough that they often butted heads. But your mind thinks back to the journal entry you read about Jake’s past, about his family being torn apart prior to coming here. You shift in your spot, choosing your words with careful precision. “I came across something while I was reading the old trainer’s journal. It said you had supernatural parents. That’s quite rare in Luxta, most of us are found and taken in by The Veil.”

Your question hangs in the air with unspoken emotion as Jake’s entire body tenses at the mention of his late parents, his laughter dying in his throat as he thinks of a response. “Well yeah, I’m a werewolf. We live in packs, but that’s all gone now.” His jaw clenches as the browns of his eyes darken into something deeper. At his sides, his fists repeatedly clench and unclench, his knuckles blanching with each movement. “It’s none of your damn business anyways. Are we done here?”

His voice drips with anger as he stands up, snatching his gym bag in one quick motion. He doesn’t wait for you to answer, instead curling his lips at you, a silent warning for you to stop talking. “Watch your fucking mouth, Y/n. You don’t know anything.” He says before walking off, shoulders tense and you swear you can almost smell the angry pheromones lingering in his absence.

“Don’t mind him, he tends to have extreme mood swings.” Jay says from behind. You turn around to face him, unintentionally letting him catch a glimpse of your sad eyes, mourning the ghost of his presence. His own gaze softens in response when he sees your reaction, and he finds himself fighting this flicker of empathy clawing its way up his throat. “You said you wanted to talk to us?” He says instead, sitting at a comfortable distance from you.

“Right, I just wanted to see how you guys get along, that sort of thing.” You clarify, pausing in order to let him fill in the gaps.

“Ah, I guess you could say I’m pretty close with everyone. Jungwon and I go way back though, I guess I took him under my wing in the community since neither of us were adopted.” He offers you a half-smile as he speaks, but you notice the way he rushes through the word ‘adopted’, as if it’ll hurt him if he lingers on the word too long.

“What was it like growing up in The Veil?”

“It sucked, but I’m not sure the alternative was any better,” he steals a glance at you to which you look down at the floor in a hurry, guilt eating away at you for being one of the few children that were ‘adopted.’ “We were in and out of shelters until we were 16, then Jungwon and I got housed together and then eventually, we were forced to find our own place once we turned 20.”

“And what about Sunghoon?”

“What about me?” That familiar wave of coldness shocks your nervous system and you freeze, feeling it work its way up your veins. Sunghoon’s voice cuts through the chilling temperature, and you steal a glance at the boy standing behind you, his eyes sending daggers into your back. “If you have something to say, say it to my face.”

Jay only laughs, finding the situation amusing. “I think that’s my cue to leave.” He stands up quickly, throwing Sunghoon a hesitant glance before parting.

You meet Sunghoon’s glare, a touch of guilt coursing through you as your core temperature continues to drop. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” You say, your voice evident with a mix of frustration and defeat. “Please, can you stop trying to give me hypothermia?”

Your pathetic apology seems to strike a chord in Sunghoon, and for a moment, his usually hard expression falls. Though as quickly as it falls, it tenses right back up as your body bounces back to its original temperature. “I didn’t mean to talk about you behind your back, I just want to know how I can support you.”

Sunghoon crosses his arms, offering you an unamused smile. “I don’t know why you’re so desperate to support me. You’re just a gym trainer.”

His words are like a slap to your face, and you flinch, feeling its harsh sting. He’s right- you’re just a trainer, hired to make sure they don’t kill each other and out themselves to the real world. You know you should keep your distance, but you can’t. That pull you felt yesterday when you met them all, it’s only grown stronger. You weren’t going to let Sunghoon’s attitude freeze you out, not if you could help it.

“Well unfortunately, that’s not up to you.” You counter. “So, can you explain to me why you feel the need to use your temperature manipulation so casually? Why do you choose not to control it around your friends?”

Sunghoon remains indifferent to your question, but you think a small part of him reacts to you saying the word ‘friend.’ “Cuts down on the amount of talking I need to do. Gets the message across that they’re pissing me off when I freeze them, and when they back off, I dial it back.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “And they’re not my friends.”

“Ok, except it doesn’t.” You challenge him, “This isn’t just some simple power where you can use negative reinforcement to condition other people’s behaviors. You can’t punish people into compliance, it’s not ethical.” You hang your head, trying to think of a way to speak to him like you aren’t talking down on him. “I would really appreciate it if you’d put in more effort on keeping it in check. I get it- in a world like this, we can’t trust anyone. But these boys care about you, so it’d be nice for you to reciprocate it.”

When you raise your head, you hold his gaze with your own and notice that the storm in his eyes has cleared. It reappears as quickly as it left, but you saw; his vulnerability melting away that frost and it makes you wonder if there were more layers underneath his cold indifference. It’s clear that this is about as much as Sunghoon is going to give you before he starts to snap at you, so you decide to hold back on prodding any further.

“Anyways, can you tell me if Heeseung is still around?”

“Heeseung should be out of the changing rooms by now,” Sunghoon says, standing up.

“Thanks,” you mutter, following his lead. When he disappears from your vision, you make your way over to the changing rooms, a tired drag in your step. “Heeseung?” You say into the tiled hallway, your voice bouncing off the walls- but no response. You wonder if he had already left, but you don’t recall ever seeing him leave, so you decide to wait a little longer, the quietness of the gym almost suffocating as time drags on.

As you lean against the concrete, you watch as the younger boys wave bye to you, smiling joyfully as they head out. The minutes pass by slowly and you’re almost worried that Heeseung slipped out without you noticing, you were really hoping to talk to him before the end of your shift. The weight of your concern had only grown heavier in his absence. When you’re about to push off the wall and leave, Heeseung emerges.

You almost forget the list of things you want to address with Heeseung by the time he comes out, but it slips your mind anyways when you see his eyes glowing an unnatural red. “Heeseung?”

“Move.” He snarls, baring his fangs at you. You notice his skin has turned into a pale white, drained of its energy as he pushes past you with an abrupt shove, practically forcing you into the wall but you catch yourself, grabbing him by the collar of his leather jacket.

“Don’t talk to me that way.” You snap, shoving him back.

“I’m not going to tell you again, Y/n. I said, move.” His voice carries the weight of a thousand suns as he stares hard into your eyes- and for a moment, you almost waiver, feeling a hypnotic force to obey his order. It’s strong, and it almost pains you to reject this invisible beckoning, but you have to. Despite his intense stare, you grit your teeth and clench your fists, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in your core.

Your eyes lock onto his, acutely aware of the bright orange hue that has now plagued your irises as you struggle to maintain control. “Heeseung…” You gasp just before he crashes his mouth against yours.

With his lips on yours, the grip on your throat falters and he moves his hands to clutch at the sides of your face while shoving his knee between your legs. His fangs plunge into your bottom lip, puncturing the soft tissue until a stream of blood flows down your chin. You groan into his mouth as he begins to suck on your lip, tasting the warmth of your blood with a savage intensity. His tongue draws up and down your chin, soaking up each drop of blood that pulses out of your lip all while grinding his knee into your core, picking up on the scent of your essence leaking out of your cunt. His tongue plunges into your mouth and you taste the iron of your own blood on your tongue. It’s disgusting really, but the desperation of his kisses has you weak and reeling for more. You can’t help but get off on the taste of your own blood seeping through his tongue.

Shock and arousal have you drunk on Heeseung, but you summon every once of strength in you to shove him off of you with the strength of a phoenix. He stumbles backwards, flying into the edge of one of the sinks. “What the fuck!” he shouts, his voice dripping with fury and hunger. Heeseung clutches at his side, the impact likely adding on to the bruises from earlier.

“What the hell, Heeseung!” You shout, panting as you reach your hand to your lips, a drop of blood staining the microscopic divots of your fingers.

“I told you to fucking move!” He shouts back, massaging his side.

Your mind races as you think back to his journal entry. Glowing red eyes, disturbed senses, compulsive what? You wrack your brain for the rest of his vampiric rage symptoms, but the adrenaline of it all has your mind scrambled of any rationality. What was it that you had to do when he became like this? You’re so busy caught up in your own mind that you don’t notice Heeseung approaching you again, each of his steps dripping with savage lust.

He reaches out a hand, grabbing your arm and with unnatural speed and force, he pulls you into him. Your body abruptly presses against his, and the unmistakable feeling of his cock presses against your hip. “Focus on me,” he growls, forcing your eyes on him, “Only me.” The glowing intensity of his eyes ensnares your mind like a trap, leaving you gasping for air. A surge of slick gushes out of your cunt, pooling at the seat of your panties and leaving you with a desperate ache in your core. There’s a striking need to keep your eyes locked on his, a primal urge to surrender yourself to him entirely as his glowing red eyes pierce the amber haze of your own- igniting a part of your heart that you didn’t realize was dormant.

In one swift motion, Heeseung rips apart your top and latches his mouth onto your nipple while his hands massage your ass, pulling you plush against him. “Damnit, Y/n,” he moans, his fangs digging into the flesh of your breasts. “Couldn’t fucking listen… Just had to get in my fucking way.” He pulls you in by the ass, grinding his cock against you as he sucks on your nipple, his fangs nipping at the delicate flesh. His hand slaps your ass harshly, the sound of his palm landing against your cheek echoing in the chambers of the locker room. The sting of his hand against your ass only sends another gush of slickness through you, earning a dark chuckle from Heeseung. “I can fucking smell how turned on you are. You like it when I slap you?”

Blinded by an overwhelming wave of lust, you throw your head back and comb your fingers through his hair, relishing in the way his tongue flicks over your bud. “Hee, m-more.” You beg, feeling the trickle of something wet fall from where he’s sucking.

You look down only to see a shiny line of red trailing down your bare stomach, staining your leggings next. Heeseung licks a stripe up your stomach, catching the flow of red onto his tongue, groaning in delight as the taste of your blood soaks into his taste buds. In one sudden movement, Heeseung hoists you up and moves you to the counter, ripping your leggings off along with your panties. You lay bare before him now, back pressed on the counter, but you don’t even care. Your body is on fire, every nerve of yours flaring like a wildfire. You feel so overwhelmed with the desire to fill your pussy with something, anything- that you’re clawing at the air. “Please- I need you.”

“Use that fucking mouth of yours, baby. What do you need?” You mewl out a response as Heeseung dives headfirst into your cunt, pressing a rough kiss on your heat. The warmth of his tongue against her bundle of nerves leaves you shaking, moans erupting from your throat. He practically growls as he slides his tongue between your folds, getting a taste of your sopping pussy. “So fucking wet, you like disobeying me?”

You don’t say anything, instead opting to cry out and moan as he continues his assault on your cunt. “I asked you a fucking question,” he demands, slapping a hand down on your pussy.

The slap sends shockwaves through your body, the sting of his hand only offering you brief stimulation. “N-no, Heeseung! I’ll be good!” You shout, dragging your hands through his hair to pull him towards you while you buck your hips up. He brings his face down to kiss at your pussy again, rocking up and down so his nose rubs against your clit while he eats away at your core. You let your eyes wander down to his face, catching the sultry stare he gives you as he flicks his tongue in and out of your entrance.

Eventually, Heeseung slides three fingers in at once, not bothering to prep you as he deems the amount of slick pooling on the counter enough. “Fuck!” You scream, feeling the stretch of your walls adjust to the girth of his fingers. He pumps his digits in and out of you at a savage pace, ghosting his lips over your thighs as he does.

“Keep screaming, baby. Let me hear you.” He moans, biting down on your thigh suddenly. You scream out, a mixture of pain and pleasure shooting through you when you feel his fangs piercing your skin once again. The sound of his lips sucking around the wound sends another gush of arousal out of your cunt and you can feel a warmth building up in your lower abdomen. He sucks vigorously on the wound, wrapping his arm around your other thigh and massaging it generously.

“H-Heeseung-” You whine, squirming in his hold. “I-I’m close!”

“Cum on my mouth, let me taste you,” he encourages, moving around your thighs to press more bites into. A particular spot, closer to your pelvis, is bitten and that’s all you need to let go, the coil releasing as your pussy begins to clench around Heeseung’s fingers indefinitely. “Fuck, good girl, Y/n.” He says, moving his mouth back to your pussy, lapping at your folds. He sucks on your bud, drinking up your arousal as pleasure washes through your body like a tsunami. “So sweet,”

You shudder under his touch as his tongue stays extra diligent in swirling around your clit while he finishes you off. “Turn around,” he demands, helping you slide off the counter.

You struggle to stand up, entirely relying on Heeseung as he presses you against the counter, your breasts rubbing against the coldness of the counter. Behind you, Heeseung shoves his jeans and briefs down, allowing his cock to spring free, the tip an angry red from his neglect. “Give me your hands,” he says, catching them in the air as you throw your arms back. “Good girl,” he coos.

With his one free hand, he flicks it forward and a red tendril forms, ghosting from his palm like liquid smoke. “You’re gonna be good for me, right?” he asks, smirking as the red wisps move to coil around your wrists like a makeshift handcuff.

You nod anxiously, tears pricking your eyes as the strain of your hands behind your back begins to pull on your muscles. “My good fucking girl.” He says before plunging his cock into your soaking pussy, immediately followed by the snap of his hips. You scream as his cock fills you up, the girth stretching you out all at once. With the coil of his tendrils holding your arms captive behind your back, he lets his hands wander to your hips until they’re bruising you, using them as leverage to piston his cock in and out of you.

You have no idea for how long he continues, but you know he goes long enough to fuck you through two more orgasms before he begins to slow down. When he does, he reaches forward to grab you by your throat, pulling you to his chest. His lips ghosts over your pulse point as he continues to snap his cock into your pussy, the drag of his cock having you reel with pleasure. “I can taste your fucking pulse,” he whispers, licking your neck. You shiver under his touch, the warmth of his breath causing you to unintentionally clench around his member. “Don’t fucking squeeze like that,”

“Heeseung, I- I’m gonna cum again,” you cry, biting your lip as you close your eyes, too tired to keep them open.

He stays silent as he drags his mouth further down your neck, puncturing a few more spots as he soaks up the red liquid quickly. “So sweet, you taste so good.” He snaps his hips into you even deeper than before, the tip of his cock brushing against your G-spot now.

“Hee,” you beg, focusing on the stretch of his cock. You open your eyes just in time to see a collection of red tendrils surrounding you, some crawling up your body and you suddenly become acutely aware of the ghostly feeling of them roaming your bruising skin. They tickle the fine hairs of your body, leaving you a shaking mess before Heeseung as he continues to ravage your pussy.

The added stimulation sends you over the edge and you’re coming for the fourth time, crying out as you wrap your walls around Heeseung’s member tightly. “Fuck, I’m coming Y/n!” Heeseung shouts, shoving his cock up to the hilt of your pelvis.

With a few more thrusts, he stills, allowing his cum to bury itself deep within your womb. Spurts of cum shoot into you at such a force you feel each rope hit your walls, clenching around him as his dick pulses inside of you. Heeseung lets go of you once he starts to soften, his rosy mist disappearing into thin air as you collapse onto the cold surface of the counter. Without warning, he slides out of you and you wince, listening to him zip himself back into his jeans.

Your body is still shaking from the aftermath of your release when you hear Heeseung’s footsteps echo out of the changing room. When it fades, you’re left alone and bare, laying against the cool surface of the counter. In the absence of his presence, a wave of clarity rushes through you, replacing any lingering heat you once had. You can’t help but let out a string or curse words as you fumble around to put your clothes back on, each movement a cold reminder of your impulsive endeavors, your muscles already feeling the dull ache.

As you pull your leggings on, you feel the unwelcome sensation of his cum slowly leaking down, slick and cold now. At this point, you’re too focused on getting home to care- letting it trickle down your thigh as you head back home into the rising daylight. When you finally reach the temporary sanctuary of your studio apartment, you reach for your journal first. Shadow manipulation, you write that besides the writer’s notes on Heeseung’s page before collapsing face-first onto your bed, letting sleep consume you immediately.

Read part 2 here

Taglist: @heesimp, @kyunlov, @quill-ink, @lunaritex, @jiryunn, @jakeswifez, @fancypeacepersona, @nshmrarki, @ikaw-at-ikaw, @wilonevys, @strxwbloody, @capri-cuntz, @riribelle, @machambrx, @vousty, @rebeccakan

Permanent taglist: @kittys00, @ikaw-at-ikaw, @17ericas

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #ni-ki #niki #lee heeseung #lee heesung smut #heeseung smut #enhypen supernatual #blood on fire

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captainsherlockwinchester110283 · 2 years ago

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New content?

I’ve started a side blog here where I just dump my thoughts. Think of it as a personal diary... thats on the internet... so it’s not so personal...

point being is I’m trying to get back into writing but I find it easier to write about my thoughts then create plots at the moment. SO if you want content that’s semi-continous and it’s not fanfiction or storyline based. This is the place. I will resume writing here just need to get the juices flowing again

https://www.tumblr.com/rantingofasmallorganism

#fanfiction #writing #writer #writers block #women writers #Supernatual #doctor who #Sherlock #x reader #reader insert #reader fic #fan fic #free write #diaryposting #diary #unblocking writers

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ilovejeongintoo · 8 months ago

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𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕃𝕒𝕟𝕖

!WARNING NSFW Content ahead! !MDNI!

Genre: Enemies to Lovers?, Racer Seonghwa x afab Reader Warning: Betting!, Illegal Racing!, Posessiveness! Overstimulation!, Fingering (fem rec.), Squirting Wordcount: 3810 Not proofread

Racer Seonghwa has been living in my mind rent free, that's it.

Summary: Your journalism career is hitting a slump and as a last resort you decide to interview famous underground racer Seonghwa, he doesn't seem too keen on making it easy though.

You slammed your car door as you step out, absolutely fed up. Nothing has been working your favor lately, nothing has been happening in this city, making it nearly impossible to cover any stories for your local newspaper. People weren't interested in reading about the parking lots at the mall being renewed.

People wanted to read something that's new, something exciting. Your boss had been nagging you about the articles that had been released under your guidance, he had made your whole team turn a blind eye, when you were tasked with writing a new one (that better be satisfactory, or else)

With basically nothing to lose you decided, if he wanted a story, he would get one, one that people would remember for weeks maybe even months to come.

So here you were with your little tote bag with you notepad and a few random pens shoved in. Your source had said that this place is in charge for a few secret racing events. Racing, something that noone had ever covered on paper, at least the underground kind. It was deemed too dangerous to get any interviews or even shots of said races. At least this wasn't some car spectacle but peole with motorbikes were stood all around.

Countless ones, there had to be at least 50 people just gathered here near the empty streets. You could tell that not many prefered to come out here on their own time, the location situated on top the citys high crime site. It was surprinsingly bright for a area that people described as the scariest part of Kuroyama.

The orange neon signs illuminated all the random posters and little shops that ran along the streets.

You weren't here for just an article about some underground motorbike affair. You were here for a specific thing, or more like specific individual.

Known on the streets as "Mars" he's one of the most renowed and admired for his capabilities. Cutting lanes and curves so thight that he gave off a supernatual kind of strength.

Though people feared him more than idolized him, as rumors said that he was in close quarters with illegal fights before this and got his support from his earlier connections.

You were here to finally get some light on him, as the population was highly interested in the danger of "Mars".

You were walking around the place trying to spot him anywhere, his bike is the only his own symbol of importance and had others looking out for.

You were looking for exactly that, other bikers gave you lingering stares that clearly told you how out of place you looked. The coat and skirt did nothing to hide the typical journalist uniformity and you cursed you chief for implementing said thing.

Before long you heard some hooping and yelling in the distance and knew immediately who it was. You pushed through the crowd that had gathered and almost flew on your face. When you were at the front you were greeted by a long figure. Helmet on, orange-black racing gear covered him. A planet symbol that ran across his arm and the same one on his bike had you confirming his identity even more. He waved at a few people clearly enjoying the attention and drove slowly to a designated spot on the concrete, it was outlined with his color.

People seemed to get the hint and back of a little, some men just as tall as the man of the hour came up to him though and started talking with him.

He adjusted his gloves and some things on his outfit, pulling his zipper down a little and revealing a black wifebeater underneath. You guessed those outfits came with the disadvantage of getting hot even in the night.

When those men also dispersed in multiple directions and he was finally left alone, you decided to walk up to him. Slow steps, boots clicking he looked up when you were right in front of him. Right away talking rather dismissively: "I don't do autographs, no matter how much or what you offer me." He waved you off a little, you got your business card out and thrusted it right into his face, a little annoyed that he mistook you as one of his fans.

You wouldn't approach him if it wasn't for your job. Before he could get another word out "I'm not here for an autograph, I'm here for some questions."

You couldn't gauge his reaction because of the helmet but he tilted his head a little at your statement.

"What are you? The police? I don't answer questions if they don’t benefit me in some kind of way sweets."

The helmet was starting to annoy you and the name that he gave you, just ticked you off. "Look I'm sure that you could use the publicity, at least it would be more of the positive kind."

He continued looking at you, waiting for your next argument to somehow convince him. Clearly, he wasn't satisfied with that. You decided this was where you would have to use your trump card already.

"I know that this underground scene is exhilarating for you, but legal racing would make you more money, much safer."

"That's something you want, to get out of this illegal ring that you've been caught in and I'm here to help you with that"

It grew oddly quiet. "You know absolutely nothing about what I want." The teasing lilt from before was entirely gone, replaced with a cold and sharp voice.

"You need to move along, I’ll forget this conversation happened and you leave."

There was no way that you were just going to leave like this, without anything. After coming all this way.

Before he could even turn his engine on to drive away from you, you grabbed him by the collar of his undershirt making him to make you next point.

A lot more harsher than was probably necessary you got in his face. "I don't know what kind of complexes you're dealing with, but I'm your ticket out of here, I don't know if your head is so far up your ass that you can't see that or if you're choosing to ignore it."

"Do what you want, but I was here, giving you the chance to make it big in the racing industry."

You let go, making him slump back onto his vehicle. You knew it wouldn't be easy but straight up being rejected without a second thought left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You would have to think of a different topic now. You sighed before turning away, already walking back to your car.

After a few steps, you heard that voice call out to you from behind. "Hey! Okay, wait!" That made you stop and turn around. You were expecting some kind of insult now, you mentally prepared for it. He reached up to the strap of his helmet, clasping it open and pushing it off his head. Shaking his head slightly to fix his hair and then he looked right at you.

Dark eyes, sharp eyes and an even sharper nose. Raven hair styled away from his face. You were momentarily distracted by the unexpected appearance, he didn't look much older than you, mid-twenties maybe.

"Okay, let's make a deal" He fully stepped off his bike, leaving his helmet back and making his way towards you. "If you still think that I'm such a person by the end of this race, I'll grant you lil wish and let you interview me" He gestured a little to himself and the lanes behind himself.

"Your little claim of me quote on quote "making it big" better be true" He threw up some quotation marks with his hands, he walked towards his back again with his back turned to me, sitting on top of it again.

"Cuz, you'll need it, you'll get a lot of backlash for this" I interrupted him before he could give another one of his smart comments. "I already decided that I wanted this, anything negative that happens after this all, I'll consider it to not be part of it" "Right" His response was dragged out a bit, like he didn't quite believe me.

"I'm Park Seonghwa, Mars is the name I use for my fans but you're not a fan of mine."

"I'm not"

He smirked, pulling his protection gear back on. Getting ready for the race. I watched him drive off a bit further along the road, getting in line with a few others and doing some final checks on his things. I moved myself from my rooted position to get to the viewer stage, that gave me sight of the lane. It seemed fairly simple, you drive the course three times and placing as high as you could.

You didn't know what to expect from Seonghwa, never having seen him actually drive. You had only heard stories about it up until this point.

When the start signal was received by the drivers, they accelerated straight away, making some stay further back and others taking the lead up front.

Seonghwa was right in the middle, everything seemed normal up until the last round. When you noticed some guys near Seonghwa driving a little too close to him, any person would think that would be a cause for concern.

One guy wanted Seonghwa out of the competition, picking his foot up and delivering a swift kick to the side of Seonghwa’s bike. It shook the vehicle quite a bit, almost making you think that it would swerve and crash.

This was when you wrapped your head around the fact that this wasn't your average sports channel show. This was it, this was the underground world, nothing here would be fair.

Seonghwa recovered rather fast, seemingly used to this kind of trickery. He moved his body further onto his bike, almost laying down on it. The next curve would decide if he could still make it to first place, any later and he wouldn't make it. He leaned his body down, his one knee scrapping the concrete below and making the turn as tight as possible, overtaking anyone that cut it in a wide way. It successfully landed him just behind a guy in first place. Your heart was racing, they were barely a few hundred yards away from the finish line.

Seonghwa, accelerated even more, however that was possible. The other dude seemed to notice him now, quickly looking behind himself and panicking when he saw who it was. They were right next to each other now; you couldn't tell who would win from the sight alone.

Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your own ears, making a drumroll for the results of this.

Just a few moments from the line away, Seonghwa gradually started overtaking him. Little by little the distance grew, until he crossed. Cheers erupted all around you, people jumping up and spilling their drinks. Your eyes were as wide in shock and astonishment, you were thinking that he was definitely more talk than game. Seonghwa came to a stop after a while there, taking his helmet off and running to the group of guys from the start. Getting crushed in a group hug and overall being very happy.

The other losers watched a little in disappointment at their failure to win or even sabotage the chances of him winning. He disconnected himself from the group and looked around, searching for something, when his eyes locked onto you stepping off the viewing stage.

Waltzing up to you with an air of confidence. "Still wanna interview me sweets?" His voice rang out, in all of its smugness.

You couldn't help but break a smile, getting dragged into the cheery atmosphere. "Absolutely, now even more that I know that the Park Seonghwa is a true winner."

"Alright, I'll do the interview, but I need you to promise something for me, consider it lending a helping hand, okay?"

He steeled himself "I need you to vouch for the safety of my brothers." He pointed his gaze to the group of men standing behind and watching the interaction between the two you.

His gaze was a lot softer, almost sentimental. Definitely not something you would expect from him.

You became stunned at that, whatever kept him in this dangerous had to do with protecting his family. Whatever it was didn't matter too much to you, you came here to get a story but now you had made it your mission to help him. Even with his difficult demeanor. "I promise." He relaxed at that. Before long you could soak in the relaxed air, another voice came from a few feet away, one of the guys that tried to make Seonghwa lose.

"What the hell was that huh Mars?!" "We had a deal that you'd lose"

What? Wait hold on.

Seonghwa didn’t break the eye contact with you, speaking to you but addressing what the man just said.

"The deal's off, I'm quitting here" He ripped the symbol off his jacket, throwing it at the dude.

"You- You were supposed to lose, this is gonna make us lose a lot of money. Boss won't be happy." He was in disbelief at the nonchalant air around him.

Like this was just a normal occurrence to him. Unimpressed Seonghwa spun himself to finally look at the man. "That's not my problem anymore" he faced you and took you by the hand, heading right for his bike. You were dragged and almost spilled you bag on the floor.

"Seonghwa what-, what are you doing?" You questioned him with furrowed eyebrows, he pulled his helmet over your head successfully ignoring your question.

He sat down pulling you towards him more and grabbed your thigh, signaling you to swing your legs over the machine. Which you did, although reluctantly. He grabbed your forearms with both hands and wrapped them around himself. You could feel the hard muscle underneath but before you could fantasize, he presses on the gas, smoke cloud coming out from under the wheel and before he drove off.

You could faintly hear the man from before yelling at Seonghwa to stop but it was quickly fading away when Seonghwa drove onto the main roads.

You squeezed him a little tighter out of fear, it was one thing to see him driving from afar, being in the middle of the action was absolutely terrifying.

He slowed the pace, sensing your anxiety. He put his hand over one of yours and clutched it tightly against him, trying to comfort you.

"Relax, I'm not gonna let you fall off"

You knew that hell he could probably operate down a mountain, and you would be totally fine. Your butt was starting to hurt from the constant pressure, and you told him to go to the side from here and let you hop off for a bit.

He pulled up to a small alleyway, planning to hide in case someone was following him, which you really doubted.

You stepped off and immediately relaxed onto a nearby wall, sitting down on the concrete there, pulling your legs to your chest. "I like the helmet on you, fits you." He said against the cool air. He leaned against his machine after turning the key in the ignition. You looked up at him through the thin glass, making everything look darker than it actually. You took it off, even after the weird compliment.

"I can see why you enjoy speeding down roads like that, gets your heart racing." Yours still hadn't calmed, though that might be for a different reason now, when you looked at Seonghwa.

His charisma was undeniable, his looks, the confidence, everything made him so much more attractive. And the equally contradicting duality, the split second where you saw him soften up.

It made you gulp in realization.

You dragged your eyes up his form, from his leather boots to the matching leather pants, followed up with that jacket that was now fully unzipped, up to his face.

He already had his gaze on yours "Take a picture, it lasts longer." He couldn't go two seconds without being insufferable it seemed. You stood up feeling more awake now and the pain in your butt lessened. You marched over to him, fully intent on leaving as fast as possible. He halted you when he stepped in your way, while you were trying to go around him.

It almost made you bump into his chest. "Oh, come on, I was just joking, you're just fun to tease sweets." He grinned from ear to ear, pretty teeth and grills on display.

"Stop calling me that."

"What?"

"Sweets, I don't know what made you think that that would be an appropriate name for me"

"Maybe I don't want it to be appropriate between us" He watched you with a dark gaze, caressing your hand that was hanging besides your body.

He moved his eyes from yours to your lips and then back up again. "You know… I still haven't gotten my price from winning. I think you could help me with that, no?" It was painfully obvious what he meant by that, and you would have been lying if you said you weren't interested.

Your work not giving you any time for any sexual endeavors and leaving you frustrated, maybe that's why you were so on edge today. "Yeah, I could do that" Your lids falling shut a little as breathy whisper escaped you and you leaned in to lock your lips together.

Pillowy that’s how they felt, and it sent a good spark of electricity down your spine. You threaded your hands into his styled hair messing it up more than any helmet could.

He too you by the waist and spun you around making your butt hit the bike a little. He wrapped his fingers around your thighs, lifting you up and setting you down on it, stepping right between your spread legs.

He moved one hand down still kissing you, making you lose your breath. He reached the waistband of your skirt and then he moved further not bothering to take it off. He pushed your panties onto your core a few times, massaging the sensitive flesh and the roughness of the fabric provided a delicious feeling.

You let out some quiet moans that were swallowed by Seonghwa’s mouth. He dragged the fabric down your legs pulling one leg up a little to get it off and let them rest on your ankle. Your legs naturally spread more with one leg propped up.

He groaned when he pulled away from you and looked down, your core glistening in your own juices. He attached his gloved fingers to you immediately, going up and down your slit a few times before he inserted two fingers into you. You easily took them, groaning and taking ahold of his shoulder with one hand and the other rested on the seat.

He pumped them in and out, in, out, the most repetitive motion but each time he got a little deeper. Those long fingers hitting your g-spot inside and scissoring your walls apart.

He didn't take his eyes off your pussy even once, completely entranced by the sight of you swallowing his fingers. When he added a third finger, you almost came on the spot. The leather on his hand made it so much more filthy, so much louder. He grinded the heel of his hand on your clit, watching you with a satisfied smile.

"Omg, Hwa-Seonghwa, I c-can't" You lost the words on your tongue, not being able to voice out your thoughts.

You were a garbled mess now, hair askew, sweat on your neck and face completely uncaring of being in a public setting. He just continued, making your toes finally curl and your body seize up. Your head going white for a few seconds.

"Yes, you can" he thrusted his fingers more, one thumb coming up to play with your clit, making you hypersensitive.

After a while he slowed the speed of his thrusts, working his wrist a little slower but not stopping.

Holy shit, he's not for real right now.

Your eyes rolled back a little.

You were no stranger for a little bit of kinky sex but getting overstimulated wasn't on your list of experiences. Though you weren't complaining in the least. Enjoying the way your slick leaked out onto your legs and the seat. Seonghwa's whole hand and wrist was wet.

"Give me another sweets, just one more." It was almost said in a begging kind of way. He angled his fingers even deeper into you, picking the speed of his thrusts up, slow, soft fingers on your clit. You were starting to feel like you were dying or floating?

You let out your loudest moan when Seonghwa dropped to his knees, hitting dirt, and attaching his mouth to your clit. Kissing and licking getting anything and everything in his mouth. Those same soft lips felt even softer on your pussy. It was making you clench and build up to your orgasm incredibly fast. He looked up into your eyes and you took the hand that you had on his shoulder off and dropped it onto his head, gripping his hair for dear life.

One more swipe of his tongue and you were bursting like a broken water dam. Squirting onto his face and tongue. Screaming your lungs out in a long almost pornographic moan.

He pushed his fingers up three or four times, making sure to pull the last bits of your sanity out of you. And just when it started to become too sensitive he stopped, pulling his fingers out of you.

And popping them…

into his mouth.

He groaned a little at the taste of you, the sight definitely straight out of your fantasies. Maybe this was one of them, part of your fantasy, your imagination.

"See, you could do it, good job" He caressed your hips, grabbing the flesh in a possessive kind of way and kissing your cheek. Which was strangely sweet, given what he showed you a moment ago.

He caressed your head, combing some hair back into place. "Let's get you home sweets." You were out of it, you barely registered what he said.

He drove you home with you clinging onto his back even more than before. The night ended with him leaving a passionate kiss onto you lips and a quick squeeze to your ass, your phone number now saved for future "interviews".

When he walked off, back to his bike from your doorstep he spun something quite familiar on his finger, your panties.

Waving them around like a price and then tucking them into his pants. And driving off looking incredibly smug.

#seonghwa #seonghwa smut #ateez x you #ateez smut #ateez au #ateez smau #ateez x reader

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blacktithe7 · 11 months ago

Text

I look forward to reading this one. It looks like there is a lot of potential here.

The Guest House - Prologue

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 2,225

A/N: Welcome to the start of The Guest House! This little bitty came to me while I was staying at a lake house and relaxing, so really excited to dive in.

Chapters will be posted weekly on Wednesdays.

If you would like to be tagged in the series, just leave a comment or shoot me a message and I'll get you added.

Enjoy!

You dig your nails into your fingertips as they sit in your lap underneath the table. Your heart was finally leveling off as your review was coming to an end. So far your marks had been glowing; your metrics were up, your peer reviews were stellar, all that was left was to hear if they would be promoting you.

You’ve been working for that next step for a year and a half now. After most of your team quit, you took the opportunity to show your bosses that you could run the department with a can-do attitude and hard work. You’ve brought up a promotion a few times at your check-ins with your boss, and she assured you it would be a topic of conversation at your next review, which would be ending in the next few minutes.

With a polite smile, you look across the table at your direct manager and her boss.

“Any questions?” Your boss asks plainly, and your brow furrows as you look between them. If you didn’t know any better, it sounded like they were wrapping up the meeting.

Your lips fall apart and your heart jumps into your throat as you realize what’s about to happen.

“Uh,” you start as you squeeze your fists together. “I was hoping to discuss my possible promotion.” You loosen your smile as you try to keep your eye contact divided between both of them.

The two share a small look.

You’re not getting promoted. Is what that looks says.

Your boss’ boss clears his throat as he readjusts in his seat.

“After reviewing your performance, we do not feel a promotion is appropriate at this time.” He says with a tinge of forced sorrow.

Your stomach plummets as your jaw clenches.

How could they not be promoting you? You’ve been working the job of at least three people for over a year now without complaint. You’ve spent countless days staying late and making sure projects didn’t fall wayside while the company took their sweet ass time looking for replacements for your team.To their own admission, your metrics were good, so why the hell wasn’t your hard work being recognized?

“I don’t understand.” You swallow to keep your voice from shaking. You never pushed back on your bosses. Ever. But you thought today was the day you were finally going to be rewarded for everything you’ve done for them.

“You just said that my metrics were up and I was performing above expectations. What is hindering him from getting a promotion then?”

The two look at each other again and you can feel yourself beginning to shake as they bide their time for an excuse.

“Y/N, you have performed well this past year for the most part, but there were concerns with your performance in January.” Your boss folds her tanned hands on the faux wood tabletop as she speaks up. “You let things fall through the cracks and were distant from your work. We feel that is not reflective of someone who should hold a Senior Management position.” She offers a soft smile and a shitty excuse.

It takes your brain a moment to catch up with what they were talking about; January. Two months ago. Your aunt passed away suddenly from a heart attack as she was making dinner. You can still hear your mother’s cries over the phone as she called to tell you the news that her sister was dead. And at only 52.

You were only able to take one day off from work for her funeral, as you were in the middle of a project launch and it was all hands on deck. When you returned, yeah, you were “distant.” You were mourning the loss of a woman you loved dearly while trying to help your mother and cousins navigate their grief as well. Your aunt’s passing also made you scared for your own mother, who is a few years older, and some night’s you couldn’t sleep as you thought about life without your best friend. It took you weeks to shake free from the heartbreak and anxiety that had engulfed you, but you came back strong and started excelling once more.

And there your bosses sat, in the all-glass meeting room of the shared workspace your company rented out because they were too cheap to get a full-blown office, throwing your aunt’s death in your face and using it as the excuse as to why they would not be promoting you after more than eighteen months of slaving away for them with barely a thank you.

You laugh through your nose and shake your head as you swallow hard.

“We’re happy to talk more about this in a few months at your next check-in.” Your boss jumps in, and you bite down on your lip. “We know you’re committed to this company and role, and we want to make sure we help you get to the next level.” She smiles at you like she actually believes the bullshit she’s spouting.

You take a deep breath and genuinely smile back. You always prided yourself on keeping a cool head, especially at work. But a line had crossed, and even for you, enough was now enough.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Your boss ticks her head at your words. “Because I quit.” You stand up and smile down at the two asshats you gave everything for, and now realize, you would never get anything in return from them.

Both of their mouths fall open as they share a shocked look between them.

“Y/N, let’s not do anything rash.” Your boss’ boss stands as well, holding his hands up. “There’s no need to jump to something like this. I’m sure there’s something we can work out”

You push your chair in, your smile not wavering.

“I feel that this review is not reflective of a company I want to work for anymore.” You throw their words back to them. “I’ll have no issue finding a new role that values my hard work and dedication, and won’t use a family member’s death as a reason to squirrel out of a rightful promotion.”

“Best of luck filling my role.” You turn on your heel and hurry down the hallway to your shared office. A few coworkers glance up at your haste entrance, but you ignore them as you grab your purse and start grabbing the few personal effects that would fit on your tiny, shared desktop; just a single, unframed picture of you, your parents, and your brother, a few fidget toys, and your favorite pens. The rest belonged to the company, just like you had.

Without a word, you fling your purse onto your shoulder and with your head held high, carry yourself out of the office without a single glance back. As you step onto the elevator, you smirk as you watch through the all-glass walls as your bosses shout at one another before the doors close.

“You what?” Your mother gasps through the phone at your news. You knew your parents weren’t going to take this well, and you were prepared for it.

“I quit.” You repeat, even though you know she heard you the first time.

“Y/N, what on God’s green earth would make you quit without another job lined up?” She huffs.

You think about your Aunt Rose, how your bosses used your grief as an excuse not to give you a well-earned promotion. She was always free spirited, having career-jumped her whole life. She started as a bartender, then worked as a sous chef for a catering company before she decided she wanted to be a radio DJ. Years before she died, she had gotten her real estate license and was working as an agent right up until she passed. You had always been the opposite, very much a mirror of your mother. You went to a good college and got a business degree. You had worked for a few companies over the years, but you always stayed in the same field, working your way up the ladder. You never wanted to take a risk with your career, you had worked too hard. But working hard got you nothing but late nights and a bullshit yearly review.

To say you were exhausted was an understatement. And you can barely recall the last time you got together with your friends, let alone a date. You had married your job and it had been a toxic and loveless relationship.

It was time to start fresh and take some time for yourself. Which is exactly why you had seventeen tabs of house rentals open on your laptop screen as you half-listen to your mother as she continues to admonish your rash decision.

“It’s going to be good for me, mom.” You cut her off once you’ve finally had enough of her harping. You loved the woman to death, but my god once you wind her up, she doesn’t stop.

“I have enough savings to comfortably get me through six months without a job. I’m going to take a few weeks off to reset, then I’ll hit the ground running with the job search.” You cross your legs as you languidly swipe through rental photos.

After a few more minutes, you finally hang up the phone and start seriously considering your options.

You wanted to get away upstate, not so far away that you couldn’t get back for anything important, but far enough to feel like the city wasn’t in your rearview mirror. You figured a month would be the perfect time. Four weeks of a quiet town to relax and rediscover your love of reading and writing. It’s been ages since you actually sat down and read a good book. You were never good at art, but maybe you’d even find a studio to do some painting or finally give pottery a try. For the first time in your life, your time would be your own to sleep in and do whatever you wanted with your days.

As you click through listings, you notice one that is significantly cheaper than the rest. Curiously, you click the link and a gray-sided cabin with a red tin-looking roof brightens up in front of you.

NEW LISTING! Private Guest House, Hot tub included.

One bedroom guest house available for rent. Relax in the peacefulness of upstate while being a short driving distance to town. The guest house has a full bathroom, complete with tub. There is also a hot tub on the patio that is for guest enjoyment. 10 minutes from downtown with plenty of bars and shops to keep you busy. The owner lives on the main property, but will keep to themself unless you need anything. Perfect for anyone looking to getaway!

As you click through the photos, you’re greeted with a warm, wooden interior, a wood burning stove, a fairly updated kitchen, and a queen bed with an adjacent master bath.

The cabin feels a little too good to be true for the price, and you click “Contact Owner” at the bottom of the page.

“Hello,” You start your chat. “I’m interested in potentially renting your guest cabin for four weeks. The place looks lovely but I wanted to ask if there are any issues I should be aware of since the price is so much more reasonable than other listings on this site.”

You were hoping there were no gimmicks, you’ve heard horror stories before, and with no reviews, you wanted to do your due diligence.

After you send the chat, you step away to make a quick dinner, chicken and ramen, comfy and warm, before you settle back onto the couch to watch your favorite reality show. You’re about to press play when you notice a response in your inbox.

“Hi there. Totally understand your concern. I just put the listing up today and am offering a discounted rate for the first few renters to help get traffic to our rental and start getting reviews. Let me know if you have any questions.” You shrug at the perfectly reasonable response and you click on the circular picture of the brunette next to the message, opening the owner’s profile.

LISA BRAEDEN (Host)

0 Reviews | 1 Month Renting

Lisa’s confirmed information

Identity ✓

Email address ✓

Phone number✓

Proud wife and owner of a unique property. I am a certified yoga instructor and have been teaching and practicing for over 15 years. I love a good glass of wine, a well-cooked meal, and traveling to new places.

You stare at the picture of the smiling, long-haired, tanned brunette. She’s absolutely beautiful. Probably a few years older than you and seems down to earth in a regular tshirt.

Honestly, considering you were out of a job, the discounted price would really come in handy. Then you wouldn’t feel so guilty taking a full month off before you started your job hunt.

You click back to the rental’s profile and put in your dates. You take a deep breath before clicking RESERVE and putting in your payment details. Your rental has been confirmed. The message pops up. With a thousand-watt smile, you shut your laptop and settle into your couch. In just a few days, you would be on your way to a new beginning.

Keep Reading

A/N: Fun fact, the first half of this was inspired by true events. Sadly, I didn't quit on the spot, but I did shortly after with a 10x better job.

And know we didn't get to see Dean yet, but I promise he will be in the next chapter!

Anywho, stealing this from the lovely @zepskies

NEXT TIME:

“I’m calling the cops!” She shouts, her phone in hand, music blaring from the speaker as her fingers are ready to press the three numbers as she stares at him with fear in her Y/C/E eyes.

“Take it easy,” Dean holds his hands up, and the woman looks like she’s going to have a heart attack as she notices the gun in his right hand. Realizing his mistake, he quickly tucks it away into his waistband and holds his empty hands out to her, wanting her to know he’s not a threat.

“First off,” Dean holds up a finger at her. “If anyone should be calling the cops, it’s me.” He points back to himself. “Secondly, what are you doing in my house?”

“Your house?” Her voice drips with confusion as her brow furrows.

“Yes my house.” He echoes, emphasizing his ownership. She continues to frown.

“Well if it’s your house, you would know I’m renting your guest house for the next four weeks.” She crosses her arms defiantly, confusion and fear gone as she challenges him.

“What are you talking about?” Now it’s Dean’s turn to be confused. He’s never rented the guest house out, nor would he ever.

Tag List

Forever

@iprobablyshipit91 @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213

TGH

@suckitands33 @deans-baby-momma @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @spnbaby-67 @jackles010378 @itsdesiree86 @becca-rebel38

#recommended #not mine #deanwritings #dean x reader #spn #supernatual #AU #q

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princesssmars · 1 year ago

Text

practical magick

a stiles stilinski x witch!reader

plot : just when stiles thought he had gotten used to the dramatics of the supernatual, he happens across you performing magic in the forest. when you fail to wipe his memory, his thursday afternoon gets a whole lot weirder.

wc : 4.678

contains : sfw. kissing at the end. the picture for look inspo is fair-skinned but the reader's skin color is not described! reader has hair! google translated latin sorry 😞i like my men loserish and obsessed sorry.

a/n : yasss a little halloween special. rewatching teen wolf for the third time bc idfk. is it obvious i love witch!reader's yet.

for the first time in over a decade, stiles stilinksi was bored out of his mind.

he had previously thought that given his adhd gave him a deep desire to be doing literally anything all the time that the word bored wouldn't enter his daily vocabulary until he died.

yet here he is, kicking his feet at the dead leaves on the ground as he searched for any hidden traces of wolfsbane. the only reasons this had even happened was because he had opened his big mouth too many times and was sent on a busy quest by deaton, to "make sure the surrounding areas were safe for werewolves."

just reminding himself of what led him here was enough to tick him off again. it wasn't like the past two years have been easy, being under the constant threat of werewolves, werewolf hunters, kanimas, etcetera etcetera. it was enough to stress out the most stable of adults, and stiles was the direct opposite of that, so of course he got nervous and started talking over people and pissing them off.

"stupid wolfsbane, stupid werewolves," he mumbles, kicking at more of the dead brown leaves on the forest floor, tearing a line of the familiar purple plant up from the ground and stuffing it into the brown sack in his other hand. once he was done it was likely it would either be tucked in jars in deaton's stash or burned. he wouldn't mind seeing the latter.

its another twenty moments of grumbling and scavenging before a sound in the distance stops him in his tracks. he stands still, making sure that he barely breathes before he relaxes, figuring his anger and memories are making him paranoid of the woods.

a minute later he wishes his mind was playing tricks on him, because he nears the noise again, but this this its louder.

"its closer," he thinks.

he barely even registers when his legs start running. he may have a bag full of wolfsbane, but there was no guarantee the threat was something the plant could harm. and he didn't feel like tempting fate today.

at this point he's slightly lost his direction, but when he passes the stunted redwood stump he and scott carved their names into during the fifth grade he starts to understand where he is, and as his heart beats in his hears he knows if he turns right here he'll come up onto the old willow tree-

in the span of ten seconds he smacks head on into a hard object, falling on his ass and gasping as the air is knocked from his lungs. he blinks quickly to try to rid of the black spots in his vision, and before he can comprehend it he's making eye contact with you.

he's slightly embarrassed that the first thought that races across his mind is how pretty you are. he knows he should be wary of you, but he can't help it. your hair is a rich (h/c), seeming to almost shine despite the sun being blocked by clouds. your skin is smooth and your eyes are gorgeous and big and still staring straight at him.

you both rush to stand up. he holds his hands out in a way that you would calm a wild animal, hoping it doesn't piss you off.

you continue to stare at him. which isn't helping calm down his racing pulse.

"uh, alright. look, i'm not gonna hurt you, alright? i'm just...looking for something..."

before he can finish his sentence, you raise your hands to cup the sides of his face. his words die in his mouth and he feels his cheeks warm up to the point he's surprised they haven't burned your palms. you look determined, and for a second he feels like he's gone to heaven

"convertere et perge quid agas. oblivisceris quid hic vidisti."

turn around and continue what you're doing. you will forget what you saw here.

his mouth opens and his brows scrunch in shock. he never thought those latin lessons he took online and with lydia would pay off, but he's really glad he did them now.

he considers doing what you said, just turning around and forgetting all about this encounter. but unfortunately his curiosity is getting the better of him, and if his suspicions are correct he needs to know more about you.

"i'm gonna guess you just tried to put a spell on me, right?"

your eyes widen so largely he's afraid they're going to pop out of your skull.

"i..i don't understand, that should have worked. are you a warlock? druid?"

"no, no. i'm just stiles." he tells. his guess that you were something supernatural is partially confirmed, since you know about druids and the whole tried to put a spell on him thing.

"well, stiles, unless you tell me why my spell didn't work on you i'm most likely going to have to kill you." you deadpan.

he thinks you're kidding so he eta out a strained laugh. you don't even twitch.

he wracks his brain for a good enough excuse that will save his life before his arm moves without command and thrusts the bag in your direction.

"well, i have a uh, a bag full of wolfsbane, if that matters at all. pretty sure it does since…yeah…wolfsbane”

yours eyes dart from him to the bag, most likely not trusting that their isn’t some insta-death powder that will pop out as soon as you open it, so he looses his thumbs grip and steps closer so you can see the purple herbs inside.

“hate to admit it but you’re right,” you sigh, pushing back some hair from your face. his eyes follow the movement before darting back to yours.“ that much wolfsbane would make most supernatural or magical doings wonky.”

"yes, yes! exactly. that makes sense. im sorry about that-"

"why would you even have that much wolfsbane anyway? are you a hunter?"

"what? no, no! im not, i swear to you im not a hunter. i can explain this, really i can." he nearly chokes on his words at the speed he speaks.

you stare at him for a few seconds more before crossing your arms over your chest, hopefully about to let him explain why he has a bag filled to the brim with a dangerous plant on a random afternoon.

when you start to walk directly past him into the forest he doesn’t think he’s ever been more confused.

"fine. you can explain it on the way back.”

he’s as still as a statue as he process your words. you just accused him of being a hunter and now you want him to follow you to whatever mysterious place your going? even for him this is weird, and he’s ten seconds from refusing-

“hurry up.”

he rushes to catch up behind you.

after around twenty minutes of stiles repeatedly asking where you were going followed by silence on your end, you finally reach a clearing in the woods filled by a large victorian-era house, fully black with large looming windows lit up by warm golden lighting coming from inside. there's a nearly fully glass sunroom/greenhouse on the right side, and he can see from here the varying flowers and plants that fill the room. he wants to ask how a house like this could be kept under wraps from the rest of the town, but then he remembers.

magic, duh.

you lead him through the threshold of the home and down a hallway until you arrive in what must be your living room, not giving him a chance to admire the room before you're pushing on his shoulders so he sits in a loveseat, taking your own seat across from him. your legs spread and you rest your elbows on your knees as you glare at him, causing him to shift in his seat.

"why are you carrying a bag full of wolfsbane?"

"my friend's boss, deaton. he asked me to pick up any wolfsbane in the woods to make it safer for them when they do the whole wolfing out thing."

"deaton's working with werewolves again? does he have a death wish?" your brow raises in confusion, he notes how the fingers on your right-hand scratch at the skin on your right.

"i'll be honest, you're kind of creeping me out."

"thank you. why is he doing it?"

"my friend, scott. he's a werewolf. and so are our friends erica and boyd. and derek and his weird uncle peter-"

"the fucking hale's are back? are you kidding?" a scoff leaves you and you get up out of your chair, starting to pace back and forth in front of his chair.

"yeah, it was this whole thing with peter being evil and killing his niece, and he turned scott but scott thought it was derek who turned him. it was a whole thing. not to mention how peter came back from the dead-"

you continue to walk around the room while occasionally pausing to pay attention as the boy details the events that have happened in the past year. despite you being a stranger it felt oddly cathartic to vent about everything that had happened to him. admitting to the countless times he felt scared out of his mind but had to stay strong lest his enemies take advantage of it.

"that's a lot for a normal human to go through in just a year with no prior knowledge of the supernatural. i'm surprised your brain didn't implode from the stress."

he blinks. "thanks. i guess."

"you're welcome. i'm going to make some tea. stay here," you say, moving from standing across from him to heading to a room near the side of the room, able to faintly see some dark counters and pots and herbs hanging from the ceiling, "not like you'd be able to leave anyway."

that's reassuring, stiles thinks to himself, bouncing his leg up and down where he sits. after a minute he figures you won’t kill him horrendously if hes looks around a bit, so he gets up and starts observing the countless pictures on the walls. some are old, like the people in them are wearing outfits from a few hundred years ago, while some are colored and recent. in most of the recent ones, you’re with three older women who look just as dark but ethereal as you do.

he continues looking at some pictures and hung-up trinkets when you come back into the room with two cups of tea, handing one with a smile to the wary boy with a halfhearted promise that it’s “totally not poisoned.”

“can i ask you a question?” he asks, sipping at his tea after he discovers it’s not poisoned and actually really good. he was never really fond of tea, always preferring coffee or energy drinks when he was in a low-energy period. he remembers his mom liked chamomile tea.

“you just did. but go ahead.”

“why would you let me in here? you could have just questioned me at the willow tree, you didn’t have to let me into your house. not that i don’t like your house. i like the whole victorian gothic vibe.”

you don’t answer for a solid minute, slowly drinking from your cup as you stare into the lite fireplace.

“witches pride ourselves on our knowledge. to be aware of our abilities and surroundings at all times to best stimulate our growth. and as much as i’d like to be this powerhouse who could take down any threat, i know i’m not. if you actually were powerful and i tried to take you on myself? who knows what would happen.”

“and i’m guessing that magical barrier around the house would protect you in case i really did try anything?” he gently asks, not wanting to talk too loudly to distract you from opening up to him.

“exactly. plus if you tried anything my aunts probably would have put a curse on you and your loved ones. something not too flashy to attract attention, but enough to cause great suffering.” he notices your soft sigh when you stop talking, almost like you’re disappointed you won’t get to see this suffering play out.

“plus it’s better to know where your talents excel,” you continue, setting your cup down on a skull patterned coaster on the coffee table in front of you. “i’ve always been better at using my magic to investigate my surroundings. helps to find materials or signs of psychos roaming around.”

something you two have in common. it makes his mouth quirk up.

“so, the werewolves and all the other things being back in town, that’s a problem for you and your aunts, right?”

“yup. if it was just werewolves it’d be normal for beacon hills, but kanimas and a whole pack of alphas? who knows how much that can disrupt the natural balance and what more they’ll bring.”

he thinks over his next words carefully. scott would likely be upset at first at him for trusting you, but he was also the nicest person stiles had ever met. if you could help them then it was worth the risk.

“then how about a trade. you help us with this alpha problem, and you get the experience you need to become a great and all powerful witch. pretty soon you'll be riding your broom to your heart's content."

you can’t help but scoff a laugh as you think it over. he starts to think you’re about to reject the offer as you stare him down before you get up and offer him a hand.

“you’ve got a deal.”

after shaking on it, you send the boy back with his bag of wolfsbane and a few more helpful weeds from your greenhouse, giving him a note to give to deaton so he won’t ask too many questions.

when he returns to the vets office he dumps the materials on the operating table, ignoring isaacs joke about how if he took any longer they’d all be alpha chow by now. he can tell deaton is concerned about where he got the vials of strange red and yellow herbs, but when he reads the note his eyes widen and he lets out a mix between a laugh and a sigh. scott asked insistently what was on the note but his boss refused to tell him what it said.

before he left to drive home, deaton pulled stiles to a corner and told him that he had been in close contact with one of your aunts before something happened a few years after the hale fire that caused them to go into hiding and cut contact with all supernaturals they had previously been helping, including him as the emissary of the hale family.

as he lay in bed that night staring up at his ceiling, all he could think about was you. you were a welcome distraction from the chaos of his current life, a pretty distraction at that. if not a bit scary. which he didn't mind all that much.

the both of you spent more time together in the following weeks. at first, it was just simple conversations by the willow tree talking about the werewolf situations and checking what materials deaton needed from your family. as time went on his curiosity got the best of him and he started to ask you more questions about your life.

"so hit me if this is stupid but did you have any family in salem? or can you like make a potion ina cauldron to see if I did because I could use that as massive bargaining power in fights with issac-ow! why'd you hit me?"

"you said i could."

"yeah but not so hard. jeez, ever thought of quitting this witch thing and trying boxing."

"never thought of it. maybe i should start now. with your face."

"really funny."

(your threats kind of reminded him of derek, but had less of an 'i'm about to rip your throat out and eat your esophagus vibe.' slightly.)

but as time went on it got deeper. as he told him more about himself you started to do the same, once even apologizing for "giving off psycho killer bitch vibes" and chalking it up to being so isolated from people for most of your life. he told you he didn't mind the vibes, assuring you he liked it maybe a little too excitedly.

he could really feel the shift when one day he came up to the willow tree and he saw you, standing with a frame photo in your hands and nearly on the brink of tears. he was so shocked at seeing you show such intense emotion he wasn't watching where he was going and stepped on a branch, alarming you as your head whipped to him like a deer in headlights.

"i...im sorry. i can leave if you want."

"no no, it's," you shook your head, looking down at the photo once again. "it's fine. it doesn't matter."

"well if it's enough to make you cry id say its world ending-"

"could you just shut up? for once in your life?"

it's quiet for a minute, the only sound in the air being the gentle breeze. even thought the comment stings stiles knows all too well you're just lashing out in anger and hurt.

"im sorry."

"don't apologize. i get it, i do." he moves closer until he's standing beside you, walking slowly so he doesn't make you lash out again.

he looks down at the photo and he gets it. its you, about six or seven with a bright smile on your face and standing with two people he can tell are your parents. he can see the resemblance. you have one of their smiles and hair color, the other's nose, and by their clothes, the same dark style.

"its been over ten years. since i lost them," you whisper, your voice sounding more weak than he's ever heard it. "itd be nice if I was staying with my aunts for some sabrina the teenage witch reason but no. i don't have a choice."

he gently puts a hand on your shoulder. "i get it, i do. i lost my mom. every day i remember things about her in things i do. it hurts but its better than forgetting."

you sniff and hes about to back up when you put your hand over his on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. it hurts a bit. he doesn't really care.

"its not fair."

"its not."

"...thank you."

"don't mention it."

you give him with the materials and he's about to leave when you stop him, your hand grasping his wrist. he wants to ask whats wrong but he stops. you're staring right at him, into his soul he thinks, and all he wants is to hold you and tell you any pain he's suffered the past few years is worth it because it led him to you, that even if you asked him to sacrifice himself on an alter for a spell that would make you happy for a minute he would do it-

"this bracelet. i want you to wear it and don't take it off no matter what, all right?"

hey, that works for him.

as soon as the bracelet was clasped around his wrist he felt different. like his nerves were tingling and his brain was warm. he felt like he was going to get the most powerful migraine in existence and reached to take it off when you took his hand again.

"please. just give it a minute."

and so he did.

only thirty seconds of dull pain later and he felt normal, if not better. like when you're a kid and have the best day of your life and return home to a good meal. a nice bath, and a great night's rest. he feels almost powerful.

"hey what is this thing? did you just give me powers? is this gonna make me your servant or something?"

"bye stiles."

he gives deaton the materials after telling scott where he was ignoring the weird look on his face before the boy goes back to examining an adorable beagle on the operating table.

deaton takes the bag and bottles with an appreciative smile, his eyebrows scrunching up when he notices the jewelry on stiles wrist.

"where'd you get that bracelet?"

"uhh, i found it. at a thrift shop. thought it looked cool. why?"

deaton clearly doesn't believe him but decides to entertain stiles anyway. "the band is a normal bracelet but the charms are what makes it special. they're pagan."

"could you explain them to me? just because you know."

the vet just shakes his head and laughs before pointing to each one.

"this one, the witchs knot. standard symbol for warding off evil. its mostly used as a protection charm."

stiles admires the charm, the metal silver with the symbol burned into it. it looks like a circle with a line roped in and out of four points of it.

"this, hecates wheel. a goddess of magic, as you probably already know. symbolizes the power of knowledge and life."

this charm is a bit heavier, the stone looking weathered with a scratched labyrinth engraved on it, a distinct 'x' in the middle of it.

"and this one is..." deaton starts before his words trail off. stiles looks at it. it looks like four combined circles, each with symbols inside them. the two across from each other on the side looking like two crescent moons, the one on the top holding a basic pentagram. but he doesn't recognize the one on the bottom-two perpendicular lines forming an 'x' with little swirly lines coming from the middle on the top and bottom.

"what? what does it mean? is it bad?"

"no, it's not bad at all, stiles. the crescents and pentagram are used in another basic protection spell. more protection for the user."

"and the one on the bottom?"

"well, i don't honestly know what it is. its most likely a personal sigil made by the person who made it. but by my guess, based on others I've seen before, it might mean whoever made it has a deep love and affection for whoever they gifted the bracelet to."

stiles thought he was keeping his cool, but scott made extra sure to remind him the following days and the dumbass look on his face when deaton explained the symbol to him.

he didnt know what to do. this had to mean you felt the same way he did about you, right? why else would you gift him a love sigil on a bracelet you insisted he wear? for a second he considered it was a love spell you tried to put on him, but he was feeling iffy about that. mostly about how he wouldn't care that much.

(he apparently admitted that in a sleepy haze when he was sleeping over at scotts, and he's never wanted to die more than when he woke up and realized issac of all people heard him.)

the next time he saw you he tried as hard as he could to act casual. you asked him about ten times if he was okay, and he eventually came up with a good enough 'just a slight stomach bug' lie and regretted it immensely when you invited him back to your house, telling him you'd been practicing making simple health remedies and you had the perfect thing to fix him.

the whole walk to your house he was on edge, his palms feeling sweaty for the first time in his life as he repeatedly wiped them off on his pants. just like the first meeting, you tell him to wait on the couch and he lets out a shaky breath when you leave into the kitchen.

what does he do? does he confess? does he need to? he was so scared that he was being too obvious and maybe that's why you put the sigil on the bracelet, to let him know you returned his affections. but what is he wasn't obvious? and he was basically telling you he only liked you because you liked him? what if-

"stop staring into space and drink this tea, dummy."

he laughs awkwardly and takes the ornate cup from your hand, sniffing the tea before he drinks it. it's sweet but savory, smelling like nutmeg and milk. he can see little flakes and leaves floating on the top. he takes a sip and hums at the taste.

"screw boxing, you should be a professional chef. i'm gonna need you to give me this recipe."

"yeah right. a witch never reveals her secrets." you scoff before sitting down next to him on the couch. you put your arm up on the back and rest your head on your wrist as you cross your legs, your foot brushing against his leg. he nearly spills the tea over his lap.

he can't help but admire you. he had given you a few magazines he'd gotten from stores and stuff to better show you how people were dressing these days, and while you'd hated most of it you took to some trends, wearing a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of combat boots. he tried to focus on the rips in your jeans as to not let his eyes wander up, where you were wearing a leather halter camisole with nothing underneath. he can't help but laugh in his head when he thinks of the word camisole. maybe he was spending too much time around lydia.

"stiles? seriously are you possessed or something? normally you'd be talking my ear off trying to guess exactly what ingredients i used for the tea."

he sets the cup down after taking another long sip and turns his body to you, your eyebrows raising in what he can tell is amusement. most people could easily get annoyed by his theatrics, but after your near trauma bonding at the willow tree, you had always made sure to welcome them with a smile.

"look, i have something to say. which you probably already know, but i need to say it to you anyway to make sure you really know, y'know?"

you blink. "go ahead."

he breathes in and out a few times, his previous confidence suddenly disappearing.

"let me guess, you saw the sigil and now you're going to confess your love to me?"

he goes into a near coughing fit.

"how, well thanks because now i dont have to actually say it, but if you had given me a minute-"

before he knows it you're scooting closer, your faces just a few inches apart. you're staring at him with that same look you had when you gave him the bracelet. his breath is picking up and he bites his bottom lip, your eyes darting to the motion.

"can i kiss you?"

"yes, god yes-"

your hand grips his chin and brings his lips to yours, the intensity and plushness of it nearly driving him insane. he doesn't really know what to do with his hands, settling to just keep them on his lap before your other hand brings them to your waist and squeezes them in place. at this point you're nearly on his lap and that combined with the kiss and the fact he swears he just felt your tongue poke his lip is going to be the death of him.

he pulls away from the kiss and kneads his hands on your hips, able to feel the softness of your skin on the places where the camisole lifts up.

"wow. i mean just...arent you a recluse? where'd you learn to kiss like that? have you like, conjured up clones to practice with or something."

"stiles?"

"yeah?"

"shut up and kiss me again."

"whatever you say, babe."

for the first time in his life, stiles stilinksi thinks everything is gonna work out.

ty for reading! had to tell myself to get up off my ass and write at 3am and wrote about half of this so sorry for any dialogue inconsistencies. love you bye bye.

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #stiles #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski fluff #stiles stilinski x witch reader #stiles x reader #witch reader #witch!reader #deaton #scott mcall

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