#welcome to the bad habits club

[sodibun]

The warm and inviting atmosphere seeping from beneath the doors of Club Euphoria are enough to deter Nenni as a church may a lifelong sinner. She leans instead against the wall beside the door, her hair sticking to the bricks behind her. There are better places to go than outside a club at four in the morning, but she has yet to find them. She has yet to find a home in this place that actually feels like home.

The closest she gets is with a drink in hand and a cigarette caught between her fingers. The doors to the club swing open and a tall figure emerges, the light all thrown behind him thus he walks out as a mass of darkness cast against the flickering streetlamps. Nenni adjusts her glasses. She looks up, only casually, to catch a glimpse of the stranger, before she spies the familiar burst of colour she recognises as a lit cigarette.

" Hey. "

She says, her voice breaking the otherwise-quiet of the street. She pops her own cigarette between her teeth, a gesture to encourage the sharing of whatever sparked his smoke. She tilts her head skyward still, taking note of that looming frame above but not at all perturbed by his presence. Should she be?

@punisheye

[starlightsreigns]

serial lover | j. uso

chap. one: new flame

summary: jordyn will tell you she's a levelheaded person, but that's a lie. she caught at crossroads, and she doesn’t want to choose.

warnings: 18+, smut. mdni

word count: 3.4K

author's note: welcome to serial lover: the series! haven't stopped thinking about this storyline for MONTHS. truly was the best couple of weeks in my entire life. so, this was birthed from missing seeing these two interact on tv. sorry for the lowercase, it's my bad habit. also can't decide if I should post part two to this... let me know.

baby try a new thing, let’s spark a new flame

Jordyn wasn’t an insatiable person and neither was she jealous. let’s just make that clear. she was cool, levelheaded, and had the biggest crush on the strongest woman she knows: rhea ripley. it was a given. the crush that she had on rhea had made her a jealous, petty, and slightly unhinged person. she couldn’t help it. Jordyn knew that the relationship with dominik wasn’t a real one, but one played for the cameras. but, it didn’t make it easier seeing the pair always hanging out with each other - yes, they’re friends, again she wasn’t as level-headed as she used to be. it wasn’t just dominik, everyone hung onto every word that came out of The Eradicator's mouth, not that she didn’t completely understand. 

celebration for night one of WrestleMania was in full swing at a private club downtown. the place was filled to the brim with superstars, both the WWE kind and the Hollywood kind. replays of the matches filled TV screens and she found herself entranced by the one playing the ending of Rhea’s match against Becky. She watched as Rhea hoisted Becky’s legs up for the pin that solidified her continued reign as champion. she groaned internally as she turned, forcing herself to think pure, innocent thoughts. 

why was she here? she had her own match that she needed to be focused on. yet, when her eyes fell on rhea near the bar, it all clicked. of course, she’d be wherever the australian woman was, even if that meant a lack of sleep leading into wrestlemania sunday. 

“jordyn, come take shots with us!” naomi waved her over. 

rhea’s eyes fell on Jordyn, flickering on as she watched her walks towards naomi, jade, and bianca. she straightened out her shoulders, taking peeks at Jordyn while pretending to be listening to the conversation that was happening between the rest of her faction. Damian noticed it first and bumped shoulders with Finn who only snorted. 

“i should go buy Jordyn a drink,” finn started, watching rhea closely for her reaction. “see if she’s interested in getting to know this irishman a lil better.”

“fuck off, balor.” rhea shot him a looking before glancing at Jordyn again. “i’m gonna go talk to her.” she muttered to no one in particular. 

dominik applauded, “good luck!” 

as the foursome downed a shot, bianca was standing in front of Jordyn smiled, and pulled her closer. without saying a word she wiped some of Jordyn’s smudged lipstick of and fixed her hair discreetly as she watched in confusion. 

“rhea is walking towards us, acting normal you fool.” she smiled through the words. 

Jordyn almost went rigged before relaxing her shoulders. she set the shot glass down and pretended to be engrossed in the fake conversation that jade had thankfully started. rhea though had feigned in confidence for a moment, pausing at the bar behind them. she took a deep breath before finally making it to them. 

“do you mind if i steal Jordyn from you?” she asked no one in particular. 

few places were crowded with people, but rhea had scooped out a spot in the farthest corner for them to sit. Jordyn sat near the wall, crossing her long leg as rhea situated herself. their thighs were slightly pressed together, but neither one of them dared to move. 

“how are you?” rhea asked. 

Jordyn smiled, “you’re asking me how i am after you just opened wrestlemania? are you kidding?” she playfully punched rhea’s arm. “i’m whatever, how are you ms.champ?” 

rhea’s cheek reddened. she shrugged her shoulder in contemplation, “it’s unbelievable.” 

“i think you were fucking awesome, i would’ve bet money on you if it wouldn’t cost me my job.” 

the women laughed for a moment before falling into a comfortable silence. some nerves sat in both of their stomachs. Jordyn looked over to where her friends were standing. jade, who was the newest to the group and newest to finding out about Jordyn’s crush, widened her eyes in a do something kind of way. 

“how’s the celebration, you know, with your crew?” Jordyn motioned to where the rest of the judgement day sat trying to pretend like they were watching them. “priest hasn’t looked away, am i keeping you from something?” 

“nothing at all,” rhea respond without looking away from Jordyn. “they’re just.. you know.” 

Jordyn nodded slowly, “are you okay? you seem quieter than usual.”

it took everything rhea to find a response. she finally glanced around the room. she took in the fact that the other three women were also watching them before glancing at her stablemates. she turned her attention back to Jordyn who was studying her. 

“your girls are staring too,” she responded finally. 

a laugh passed Jordyn’s glossed lips, “yeah, they’re my cheerleaders.” 

“cheerleaders?” rhea questioned, slightly moving in closer to Jordyn, closing more space that they didn’t even have. “in what way?” 

Jordyn uncrossed her leg to turn slightly towards rhea. she searched her eyes trying to figure out if this was her opportunity to just tell the woman what she was feeling. fuck it, she was going to throw caution to the wind and get it all out in the open. they were being watched by their friends and when she caught a glimpse of dominik walking up the girls, it confirmed that maybe rhea felt the same way. 

“you know, when they see me talking to someone i find very attractive, they always want to see me win.” Jordyn spoke softly, her eyes flickering to rhea’s lips before meeting her eyes. “they know i like you, so they’re on the sideline waiting to see if i have enough balls to finally tell you.” 

rhea didn’t say anything for a moment, but her eyes seemed to twinkle in the darkness of the bar. she leaned in closer to Jordyn and glanced at her lips. 

“so, if i kissed you right now, do you think our friends would get the message that we both had the balls to tell each other how we feel?” rhea’s voice was lower, darker. “will you let me kiss you?” 

“rhea,” Jordyn breathed out. “you’d be the one playing with fire.” she murmured as she allowed her hand to touch the warm skin on rhea’s torso.

finally, and after an agonizing minute, rhea leaned into kiss Jordyn. it was slow and deliberate. Jordyn sighed into the kiss and cupped her face, deepening it before they pulled away. their chest heaved as they caught their breath. 

“can i call you later?” 

“i’ll be waiting,” Jordyn answer, standing first to leave. 

she could hear the clapping coming for the judgement day boys as she walked past. her face felt hot but she stopped and gave them a bow before returning to her friends who were quick to envelop her in a group hug, playfully smacking her ass. naomi handed her a shot that they had ordered. 

“to this bitch finally having the balls!” 

they clinked their glasses and bottomed up. she stole a glance at Rhea who had made it back to her friends. they met eyes, both smiling. 

ꕀ  ꕀ  ꕀ

the night felt long, but in the best way. after several more shots, some that she took with other superstars, Jordyn knew she was drunk. her six inch heels no longer felt like needles in the soles of her feet, she felt like she could party until the sun rose. yet, as everyone started to head out, she hitched a ride back to the hotel with the twins and naomi. Jordyn rested her head in Jey’s lap, trying to keep her eyes open. Jey was kind enough to rub her arm through his own drunken state. 

“you still breathin’ ma?” jey leaned down to whisper in her ear. 

The couple in the front seat were in their own conversation leaving Jordyn and jey in their own world. she shifted around onto her back to look up at him as she nodded. he let out a little cackle at the goofy smile on her face. 

“what’s so funny, uce?” Jordyn gripped his arm that came around her stomach to support her. “you look drunk as shit.” she teased. 

Jey brought his face down closer to hers, “not as drunk as you jo, you look like them white girls outside the club.” 

“take that shit back,” she protested softly, swatting his arm. “you’re just jealous cause i can get down.” 

“nah, i’m jealous cause i ain’t taking you home with me.” he whispered with his tone turning serious. “gotta celebrate the winning twin, right?” 

Jordyn was lost for words. she stared into his eyes while she nodded, “right.” the word caught her in her throat but coming out in the tiniest of whispers. “and you want me to be the prize you won tonight?” 

“we all want different prizes, Uce still gets to be with his woman tonight.” he joked, leaning back into the seat to stare at the roof of the car. 

his comment laid thick between them. and in that moment, she completely forgot about the woman she had made out with earlier in the night. coincidentally, jey wasn’t there when it happened and she battled internally with the situation. she wasn’t in a relationship and rhea never said she wanted a relationship. it was an internal battle, and her drunken mind wanted the one thing she could have right then and there. 

Jordyn slowly moved her hand up to rest against the hem of his shirt. jey’s focus slowly fell onto her hand before her. a smirk played on his lips as she lifted the shirt to allow her cold hands to run over his warm skin. 

“i wanna celebrate jey uso.” she whispered softly, sitting up slowly so the two in the front seat wouldn’t catch on. “how do you celebrate?” 

her hands lowered from his stomach to the waistband of his joggers. she watched as Jey took a deep breath, glancing to see if his brother had noticed. he turned his face towards Jordyn, their nose barely touching. the tension was thick as her hand slowly made its way down to his growing erection. jey had seemingly held his breath when her cold hands wrapped around him, and moved at an agonizingly slow pace. 

“i got something for you,” jey muttered into her ear, inhaling when her finger slightly grazed his sensitive tip. “jo,” and it came out almost as if he was begging. 

“don’t worry about me,” Jordyn shifted closer to him, her lip close to his ear. “im gonna celebrate you, uce, maybe i'll even beg.” 

when the car turned into the parking lot, Jordyn withdrew her hand and rested her head on his shoulder, pretending to be fast asleep. she could hear naomi complain about how tired she was then jimmy making a joke about her not getting any sleep. 

“don’t worry, i’ll get her to her room, y’all go do y’all stuff.” jey ushered them off before look down at Jordyn. “c’mon, they’re gone.” 

Jordyn couldn’t contain the soft, drunk laughter that tumbled from her lips and she stumbled out of the car behind jey. he held onto her hand as they walked into the hotel. the tension from earlier returning with a vengeance. their hands gripped one another’s as they made it to the elevator, every now and then they’d sneak a glance at each and Jordyn couldn’t help but bite her lip. his simple merch shirt, gold necklace, and black joggers shouldn’t be as sexy as it was. 

when the elevator door opened, the pair rushed in. jey barely had the chance to press the floor number before Jordyn pulled him into her. her back pressed into the wall as he gripped her waist. their lips met in a hungry kiss that felt desperate. they barely pulled apart when the door opened. from there, Jordyn allowed jey to lead her to his hotel room. 

they separated when they walked into the room. Jordyn threw herself back onto the mattress, sighing in content while jey raided the bar. as the true star he was, he was in one of the fancier suites and she took a moment, even through the drunken state, to appreciate it. 

“here mama,” jey stood in front of her laid out body, situating himself between her slightly parted legs.

Jordyn sat up slowly, staring up at him through her eyelashes. she wrapped her arms around his stomach, opening her mouth and titling her head up for him to pour the dark liquor from the bottle. jey grinned as he started a light pour down her throat. He stopped when her mouth was nearly full, allowing her to swallow. it tasted like nothing but water and instantly made her go limp with a laugh. she knew she was too drunk to be drinking, and it was only going to push her closer to a blackout. 

“what’s so funny?” jey asked as he tilted the bottle back to drink. when he sat the bottle down and turned his attention back to her, she was flipped onto her stomach with her legs crossed in the air. “fuck,” 

“what?” Jordyn glanced back at him with a knowing smirk. “come lay down.” 

her descent to the ground was a little wobbly, but Jordyn watched as jey laid in the spot she once occupied. his eyes were fixated on her, never straying even when she did a meaningless spin. after a moment, she stood between his legs, running her hand up and down his thighs. 

“say you want me,” she murmured while climbing up to straddle his lap. Jordyn raked her fingers through his hair making his eyes slowly close. “say it, jey.” 

“i want you, jo.” 

Jordyn finally connected her lips to his. the kiss was hungrier than before, grinding her ass on him. She was hornier past the point of comphrension as she whined into the kiss. Jey’s eyes opened at the sound, biting down on her bottom lip causing her to whine louder. 

“Jey, i want you,” She whined as their lips pulled apart. 

That was the only thing he needed to hear. He flipped her onto the mattress, slipping his shirt over his head then helped take off her dress, tossing it over the edge of the bed. Jordyn stared up at him with hunger in her eyes. When Jey got off the bed to drop his joggers to the ground, her legs slightly pressed together in anticipation. Restless, Jordyn leaned up to pull him back on top of her, wanting to feel the warmth of skin again. 

“You real impatient, ma, do somethin’ for me,” He murmured with his lips on her neck. “Sit on my face, baby.” 

The air got caught in Jordyn’s throat at the request. She bit her lip as he massaged her ass, continuing his attack on her neck. She moaned softly, only yelping when he had slapped down on her ass cheek. Jey tapped her thigh as he lay on the bed, motioning her to take a seat. Jordyn wasn’t usually worried or self-conscious, but even through her drunkenness, she felt her heart beating out of her chest. She crawled up his body cautiously, feeling his chest under her hands. 

When she straddled his face, Jordyn licked her lips unable to move, “this is what you want?” 

Jey hooked his arms under her leg with a nod, pulling her down so she would meet his tongue. Jordyn threw her head back as he instantly started to tease and suck on her clit, wasting no time. Her juices collected on her tongue as he licked up her slit. The moans fell from her like a river as she gripped his long black hair that had fallen from the ponytail long ago. Jordyn couldn’t help it as she grinded her hips against his face, chasing the high that was so close. 

“Fuck you, jey.” Jordyn moaned, grazing the tip of her finger on his cheek. 

The feeling of his tongue on her folds started to make her legs tremble, unable to hold herself up Jordyn gripped the headboard to keep steady, making his grip on her legs tighter to his face as she squirmed. Her moans intensified, not caring who the neighbors were and if they could hear them. Jey alternated between sucking on sensitive bud and fucking her hole with his tongue. 

“Holy shit, Jey, please,” Jordyn plead. 

Her orgasm rushed over, allowing the most delicious moan that Jey’s ever heard fall from her lips. Jordyn fell limp with her breast pressed against face as she moved her heat from his face in attempt to take a breath. Jey chuckled while she was too tired to protest. He wrapped his arm around her waist and took a nipple into her mouth. 

“How you feelin’ mama?” He asked. 

Jordyn, after finally catching her breath, “fuck me,” she rolled onto her stomach on the bed, turning to look at him. “Please?” 

Jey groaned at the sight of her, watching as Jordyn arched her back. He ran his palms over her ass, smacking roughly as she gripped the sheets. 

“Don’t worry baby, ima take care of you.” her murmured as he gripped the back of her neck and pushed her cheek into the bed. 

“You takin’ too long.” Jordyn huffed then gasped when she felt his finger in her slick entrance, teasing her mercilessly. “Jey…”

Watching Jordyn squirm around made him chuckle, but finally gave into the one thing that she wanted. His tip teased her entrance, slowly pushing into her as she moaned into the mattress, squeezing her eyes shut in pleasure. Jordyn forced her eyes open to watch as Jey focused on his deep strokes that felt like they were hitting her in the stomach. 

The sound of the bed shaking mixed with the moans from Jordyn and Jey’s grunts. Her mouth felt dry and she didn’t know how much she could take before she exploded. And when she tried to crawl away for a breather, Jey tightened his grip and slammed into her. 

“Don’t go runnin’ from me now, baby, you was beggin’ for this.” Jey kissed her hip. “Say my name, Jordyn.” 

Jordyn choked out his name, feeling the lack of air in her lungs. Jey reached around to wrap a hand around her throat and bring her up against him. He kissed on her neck as Jordyn tried to breath through all the strokes. She could feel the climax in the pit of her stomach and didn’t know how to vocalize it. 

“Please, please, please.” Jordyn begged, resting her hand over his around her neck. 

“You wanna cum?” He questioned in her ear. Jordyn nodded fervently with her mouth dropped open as soft cries fell from them. “Cum for me, all over this dick.” 

It was too much to hold any longer. Jordyn came so hard she was pretty sure she died and went to Heaven and Jey could see it painted by the dumb look on her face. Yet, that didn’t stop the pounding and the sweet nothings that he whispered in her ear and she begged hom to continue. Gosh, she felt like the biggest and luckiest slut in the world. One tear and another fell down her cheek - truly the best fuck she’s had in a while. 

As Jey’s pumps turned sloppy, Jordyn found her voice again, “come in me, please.” She wasn’t sure where those words came from, but she meant it as she squeezed around him. 

“Fuck, Jordyn.” Jey bit her shoulder as he twitched inside her and moaned as he filled her deep. “So sexy.” He muttered as she sunk back into the bed. 

Their labored breaths is all they had as they laid beside each other. Jordyn turned her head to look at Jey and when they made eye contact they couldn’t help the laughs they shared. Jey pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her stomach then resting his chin in the crook of her neck. 

“Did we just do that?” Jordyn murmured, staring up at the ceiling. 

Jey hummed, “I been waitin’ years to do that.” 

“Was it everything you imagined?” she turned slightly to meet his eyes. 

“Fuck yeah,”

They didn’t say anything else until they fell asleep, completely and utterly shocked on how one night changed their entire relationship.

:) welp, this my homecoming gift after being gone for so long

[buckbuckbarnesstuff]

Completed Series - part ll

Get yourself a snack, enjoy the second part of these wonderful series and leave some love for the creative writers :)

♤ - includes sexual themes

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Summer Plans @notimetoblog

Modern!Bucky x reader

Summary: Planning a trip with Bucky takes a turn when someone new comes into his life. Will it all change or can you still manage to have the perfect summer you planned? 

{personal comment: Such a wholesome series, Bucky is an oblivious idiot at times but I love him}

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Not happening @notimetoblog

Modern!Bucky x reader

Summary: An online dating site clearly makes a mistake when it matches you with the one person you cannot stand. 

{personal comment: I'm a sucker for enemies to lovers and this was endearing. I love how they started building a connection}

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Mess is mine @scrumptious-delusion ♤

Boxer!Bucky x reader

Summary: As a date night surprise, your boyfriend takes you to a boxing match. Little does he know, one of the competitors is responsible for breaking your heart five years ago and an accidental encounter is about to send your whole world spinning.

{personal comment: This is a rollercoster of emotions and I loved every second of it. I felt so nostalgic throughout and everything hit me so deeply, it’s beautifully written}

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Call me Baby @cherryrogers ♤

Biker!Bucky x reader

Summary: Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

{personal comment: I love every singe character and how they are portrayed. Bucky is such a shameless flirt and it has me running up a wall}

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Follow My Lead @ciarawritesmarvel

Avenger!Bucky x Café owner!Reader

Summary: You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

{personal comment: This started out so funny and endearing and turned out so sweet}

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Bad Reputation @likeahorribledream ♤

Biker!Bucky x reader

Summary: A bad break-up pushes you to move to a small town in California where you meet Natasha who offers you a job. You work alongside the men from the 107th motorcycle clubs who all welcome you with open arms. Amongst them there's a certain brunette who everyone warns you to stay away from, but as you’ll soon find out; it’s a lot harder to do than it seems.

{personal comment: Took me a while to read it all but I'm amazed at this whole thing and the effort that surely went in it. I love the relatable ups and downs of their relationship and the way they handled things}

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Right Under My Nose @bucky-at-bedtime

Best friend!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When you lie to your mum about having a date to your brother’s wedding, things spiral swiftly and ridiculously. Suddenly, your thrust into fake-dating your best friend, and everything begins to change.

{personal comment: I'm so into fake dating and this really satisfied me. Lovely concept and I enjoyed the writing style}

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lonely Souls Club 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: we're almost through the week.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky 

Bucky can smell her body soap as it wafts off her. Everything about her makes him giddy. Just walking beside her, getting to look at her, getting to talk to her!

And now, he’s taking her out to lunch. Almost like a real date.

He’s antsy to get to the restaurant. He tried to measure his patience as best he could as he fixed the lock. While she showered and dressed in the small bathroom, he paced her apartment, taking the chance to adjust a few of the cameras. Better, he can see the door.

He is mindful not to walk too fast for her. She seems to be moving a little better. If it’s the short nap she took or the shower, he’s not sure, but he’s happy for it.

She’s shy. He knows she’s often alone and keeps to herself but she sends him sheepish glances only to quickly look away each time their eyes meet. Her heart continues to race just as it did when she awoke to the intruder. 

He steps ahead of her and opens the door of the noodle shop. She looks up and her eyes scan the sign then the windows. She lifts her cane in ahead of her as she steps through, “this place is good.”

He smiles. He hasn’t been back since the first time he saw her. Now he’s with her and he can hardly believe it. He follows her in as Mrs. Zhao greets them. She shows her surprise with a clap and a squeal.

“You brought a friend,” she muses.

“Uh, yeah,” he answers as the woman leans on her cane, stuck in limbo between them.

“Let me get you seated,” Zhao speaks to her and ushers her along as Bucky trails behind. They sit in a booth as menus await them and Mrs. Zhao bows before she leaves them. 

She, his companion, his date, nestles her cane against the wall of the booth and her eyes flit around. She peeks at the menu then at him. She folds her hands in her lap, making no move to peruse the options further.

“You come here a lot? She knows you?” She glances towards the kitchen.

“Ah, yeah,” he answers with a nervous chuckle, “I don’t always have the energy to cook so…”

She nods and shifts on the seat. He sees how her cheek ticks and she grips the edge of the table to adjust her posture. He flutters his fingers over the laminated menu.

“Is it okay? Are you uncomfortable?” He leans forward.

“Fine,” she ekes out and brings her fingertips to the edge of the menu.

“Right, um, well, if you want a little padding you could sit on my jacket,” he offers.

Her lips curve softly and her brows raise, “that’s really nice but I’m okay.”

She looks down again at the menu. He sees how she chews her lip and slants her mouth. He knows exactly what she’s looking at. Not the dishes but the prices. It's a habit. He’s been there too. Pinching every penny, darning every sock and sleeve until it’s too frayed to mend, stretching broth with water, and washing with no soap. His bad days are over and he wants to help end hers too.

“How about we do the meal for two special,” he offers as he sees her fixate on the sides section. Three spring rolls isn’t going to stop the growling in her stomach that awoke the minute they stepped inside. “It’s a good deal. You can pick the type of noodle.”

“Oh, uh,” she taps her fingers, “I guess… if it makes sense.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” he insists. He knows the portions are generous. They’ll get enough for her to take a box home, especially with the rolls and salad on the side. “Do you like Udon or chow mein?”

“I like both,” she says, “udon, maybe, if you like it.”

“Sounds good to me. Broth? I don’t really like the beef, it hurts my stomach.”

“Pork’s good,” she suggests, “if you want.”

“Sure,” he agrees, heartened that she didn’t push back on his idea. She needs a good meal, not half a cup of oatmeal with six raisins on top. 

“Tea,” Mrs. Zhao interrupts, a tray in her hand. She sets it down, presenting a big slate gray pot and matching cups.

“Thanks,” he says as she echoes him in a small voice. He gives their order and Mrs. Zhao leaves them with a rosy smile, a definitive look sent from one to the other.

He pours tea into the cups and sets one in front of her. She looks at the contents then him. She thanks him and leans in to inhale the scent. Her stomach rumbles viciously and she winces.

“So, how long have you been in the city?” He asks, turning his own cup nervously.

“Um, since high school,” she answers, “so… a while. What about you?”

“Born and raised,” he says proudly. “Always happen to come back.”

She nods and blows across the tea but doesn’t drink as the steam puffs hotly. Her eyes flit over and her stomach grumbles again. She watches another table as they clink cutlery on their dishes. She’s fighting it but she’s starving.

“Uh, wow, didn’t even realise I’m so hungry,” he says, “I don’t even think I had dinner last night.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs and turns her eyes to the table, “and you didn’t get much sleep. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m a bit of an insomniac. Got a bit restless last night and good thing I did or I wouldn’t have been able to scare that guy off, huh,” he stills the cup and flicks his thumb around the curve of the rim.

“I guess,” she puts her hands to her neck and shivers, “that was really scary.”

“Well it’s a good thing I deal with scary people all the time,” he says, “lot of people say the same about me so I guess that helps.”

“Oh,” she bats her lashes and her eyes meet his, “I didn’t mean–”

“I know, I’m joking,” he assures her. She’s so jumpy, he wonders if that has anything to do with her limp. If maybe she’s afraid of everyone and everything for a reason. Well, she won’t have to be, not with him.

“Ah,” she forces a smile, “right.”

“Hey, you held your own,” he sits up straighter, “you swing that cane like a champ.”

“Yeah, ha,” she laughs, just a small one as he reaches for the tea cup again, “I… I hit that guy.”

He chuckles too, “you did. Honestly, I think after that, there’s no way he’ll be back.”

Her

You try to eat slowly and it doesn’t take much before you’re painfully full. You put the chopsticks down and take a napkin to wipe your mouth. Bucky smiles at you, a noodle hanging from his lips as he slurps it up.

“Sorry,” he covers his mouth, “caught me at a bad moment.”

“It’s good, I… I’m full,” you look at the noodles still left in your bowl.

“Oh, no worries, we’ll just ask for a container,” he says, “be good to have some leftovers in the fridge… just in case.”

“Uh, yeah,” you agree. You wonder if maybe he saw inside your empty fridge or he just means well.

“I’m getting there myself,” he stirs his bowl with his chopsticks.

She nods and he raises his hand as he sees Mrs. Zhao, the namesake for the restaurant, “excuse me, hi, sorry, whenever you have a chance.”

She acquiesces and rushes off. He sits back and smacks his stomach, “mm, did you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s very good,” you agree.

Mrs. Zhao returns and offers the bill to Bucky. You look away, embarrassed.

“I forgot to mention, can you add a box of tea,” he hands it back.

She agrees and whisks off again. You sit in silence, awkwardly searching the restaurant. You would offer to pay for your own but you can’t. You’re dirt poor. You can’t help but think he knows it too. No one is that nice. It only takes one look around your place to see it.

Zhao returns once more, sets a box of tea before him and some containers, then the bill. He pays in cash and tells her to keep the change. She chimes thankfully and wishes you both a good day. You pour your noodles into the container and seal the lid. Bucky does the same.

You grab your cane and turn on the bench, dragging yourself across to plant it on the floor. You brace the table and stand as he does so much easier than you. He takes his container and yours, stacking them atop each other, then the tea on the very top.

“Oh, thanks,” you utter as you get your feet set.

“No problem,” he grins.

He waits for you to go first. You make a slow, uneven advance to the door. You keep your eyes straight as you refuse to notice the glances sent in your direction. The lucky cat by the door waves in farewell as you approach.

Bucky reaches past you and opens the door before you can. You limp out into the street. Your hip burns from the thin cushion of the booth bench.

“That was nice,” he says as he walks beside you, again patiently keeping pace with you.

“It was,” you agree, “it’s really kind of you.”

“You act like having lunch with a pretty girl is a chore,” he jokes.

You scoff, “please.”

“Please what,” he tilts his head.

Your chest pinches and your face heats up, “you’re just being nice.”

“No,” he argues, “I don’t lie.”

A sudden flash glares to your left and your toe catches in the sidewalk. You stagger and land on one knee, the pavement dinging the bony cap harshly as you catch yourself with a hand. Your cane clatters beside you as you look around in confusion.

“Hey, what the hell?” Bucky barks, his voice deeper and scarier than before. “Don’t do that.”

You glance over at a man with a large camera. He blanches from behind the lens but takes another photo. Bucky shifts as if he might lunge at the photographer and he runs off.

Bucky sighs and reaches to grab your arm, gentle but firm.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks in concern, his other arm hugging the containers.

“Yeah, I didn’t see him. I’m sorry, I must’ve stepped on a crack–”

“That jack– guy should be apologising,” he sneers, “so rude.”

“Yeah, I…” you hiss as you grab your cane. He holds onto you, helping you rise, but not too quickly, “I… why would he…” you peer over your shoulder then back to him, “are you famous?”

He huffs and shrugs, “I guess to some people.”

You furrow your brow and let your shoulders sink, “oh.”

“I don’t really think about it, you know? I got a job and I do it. All the attention, I hate it,” his hand slips down your arm and reluctantly falls away. You swallow and turn back down the sidewalk. He walks with you, quiet for a moment before he speaks again, “does that mean you don’t wanna be friends?”

You think as your cane taps between your footsteps, “I didn’t… No, I just…” you take a breath, “I’ve never known anyone famous.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” he sighs.

“Yeah, seems like.”

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 17

Welcome to the beginning of the end, for the next four weeks I will be putting out the last chapters of this story. It's done. And I am sorry to see it go. I really loved writing this story even if it kept changing on me and evolving into what it is today.

In this chapter we have Jason being sneaky, Wayne and a new werewolf in town.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

~

Eddie and Steve were having a quiet walk about town, holding hands and talking softly to each other sweet things.

Or that’s how it looked on the outside.

They were actually on the hunt. Wayne had been teaching Eddie how to hunt like vampire the last two years, and Steve was learning how to hunt as a werewolf and not just as a man in a wolf suit from Nancy.

What were they hunting? The manticore. Steve’s stronger sense of smell would help them track the beast down, while Eddie’s extensive knowledge of its habits and haunts would narrow down where to look.

People often assumed that Eddie was bad at facts and dates but he wasn’t. He was actually pretty good at them, his problem in school was not doing the homework. He would ace every test, he’d just forget to turn in his assignments.

Hell, his first senior year got one of the Hellfire Club members mad at him because he scored in the top ten percent of the nation on a portion of the SAT. She was averaging an A- average in the class they shared together and thought that that meant she should have gotten in the top ten percent of nation instead of him. To say that things soured between them after that was an understatement.

All this to say that Eddie was smart. Smarter than people gave him credit for and not just how he figured out the meaning behind Patrick’s attack. He knew people. Differently then the way Steve knew people, but still he was clever and quick witted.

Eddie stopped in his tracks and jutted his chin across the street. “Isn’t that Jason Carver?”

Steve looked where he was indicating and frowned. “I thought your uncle said he was sick. What’s he doing in town?”

“Uncle Wayne’s been saying that Jason is becoming more and more withdrawn since Patrick was attacked,” Eddie explained. “He thinks he might have recommend Jason be brought to the full extent of the law, which is something Uncle Wayne really isn’t looking forward to.”

“But we’re trying to find Patrick’s attacker!” Steve protested. “I thought he would be happier that we’re trying to get justice for his friend.”

Eddie frowned, the crease between his eyebrows deepened. “I think his hatred of werewolves and vampires goes deeper than his sense of justice for his friend.”

Steve shook his head. That just couldn’t be true. He knew Jason from basketball. You wouldn’t be able to find a boy more loyal to his friends than Jason Carver. But he raised his head and looked Eddie in the eye and knew. Jason had only showed him his good qualities because they were equals.

Eddie had seen the worst of the other boy. The sneering viciousness beneath the veneer of civility that he showed to those he thought lesser than him.

“We need to find the manticore before he breaks his masters bonds,” Steve whispered. “I’m more concerned what an unbound creature like that could do to this town, over someone like Jason.”

Eddie watched Jason for a moment more. The other teen did not seem to be up to anything nefarious, other than lying to Uncle Wayne, so he nodded.

But the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the hairs on his arm stood up on end. There was a predator here. He looked around him.

“Babe?” Steve asked, reaching out to touch his elbow. “What wrong?”

“What do you smell just now?” he asked, searching the shadows.

Steve stilled. He scented the air. The wind was changing, but there!

“It’s a sharp metal tang in the air,” he murmured. “Like the scent of dried blood. It’s acrid.” He wrinkled his nose. “Foul.”

Eddie nodded. “That’s what I scented too, but now it’s gone. Whatever it was, though. It was not the manticore.”

Steve shook off a shiver that slid down his spine. “It was werewolf. But not one in my pack.”

“Banished you think?” Eddie asked as the wind shifted to carry the scent away from them. He could still feel the uneasy feeling down the pads of his feet. Whoever was out there was dangerous.

Steve tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s get out of here. There’s nothing else we can do today. The rogue werewolf would have sent the manticore aground.”

Eddie nodded, the cat sìth was probably hiding the manticore’s scent anyway. “We need to talk to Wayne.”

~

Wayne listened intently to their report, soaking in everything they told him. He sat back and thought through it all.

“I think I know who the Banished you smelled in town is,” he said quietly. He handed Eddie the file he’d gotten from Sam and waited.

“Dr. Alexei Oborin,” Eddie read aloud. “That’s Nancy’s werewolf, right? The one she was sure caused a stir when she was little.”

Steve frowned. “She hasn’t told me anything about that.”

Wayne nodded like he wasn’t surprised. “She was waiting to see what that file contained. But I’m leaving it up to you if you want to share it with her. It’s has some pretty gruesome stuff.”

Steve nodded absently as he read over Eddie’s shoulder, the other man waiting until he was done before turning to the next page. No matter how much longer it took Steve than Eddie.

“The name of his bondmate is blacked out,” he said with that little frown of his that made Eddie want to bite him between the eyebrows for being too cute. “Do we know why?”

Wayne shook his head. “I’ve already pressed my source pretty hard to get the file. He could get fired if he doesn’t return it in a week.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance, but wisely said nothing.

“They were teenagers who were camping out in the woods near the pack compound,” Steve read. He frowned. “That’s strange.”

Eddie and Wayne’s heads snapped his direction.

“Look at the location of the two girls bodies...” he pulled out the photo in file and turned it to face Wayne.

Wayne looked at the picture and then back up at him. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking at, if I’m honest here, Steve.”

“It’s something I learned recently from Nancy,” he replied. “I don’t fight like a wolf in wolf form. I don’t go for the jugular for example because I know as human how easy it is for a human to throw up their arms to protect that area of the body. I knock them over first and press my weight on their chest to make it harder for them to do just that.”

Eddie frowned, but Wayne looked back down at the photo.

“Shit!”

The arms and upper torso were torn to shreds, the way you would expect from a wolf attack, but the bodies themselves were arranged to make it look it was the work of a crazed werewolf. Like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Someone moved the bodies?” Eddie reasoned. “But why would Alexei do that if he thought the kids were hunters? There would be no reason to. It was supposedly self-defense.”

“Unless it wasn’t,” Wayne said, continuing his nephew’s thought. “What if the bondmate came and rearranged the bodies to plead insanity on Alexei’s behalf?”

Steve nodded. “And then when that didn’t work, they claimed that the kids were hunters.”

Wayne rubbed at the stubble on his chin wishing, not for the first time, that he had been changed with a clean shaven face.

“That make sense.”

Eddie closed the file and looked on the front of the folder. “VHS? Video Home System?” He tilted his head to the side.

Wayne snorted, then giggled. Suddenly the stoic vampire was laughing so hard, tears of blood rolled down his cheeks. He took out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears.

“No, no,” he said around his feral grin. “It stands for The Van Helsing Society. But, dear god, I am going to use that on that bastard the next time I saw him.”

“As in Abraham Van Helsing?” Eddie asked, his eyes wide. “From Dracula?” He scooted forward to the edge of his seat.

Wayne nodded, still grinning. “The first name was changed but Van Helsing was a real person. Karl Van Helsing was the first to come up with the first policing body for supernatural beings. After the incident in London, it was pretty clear that people were going to start noticing that supernatural beings existed and he came up with The Van Helsing Society.”

“Pretty arrogant of him to name it after himself,” Steve huffed, rolling his eyes.

Eddie scoffed, throwing himself back against the sofa cushions. “Says the alpha of the Harrington pack.” Then he shook his head and muttered. “It had to be fucking cops.”

Steve just shrugged. “I never said that was also arrogant. I never understood why it wasn’t called the Hawkins Pack or Roane Pack considering being alpha isn’t hereditary.”

Wayne smiled at Steve. He had always liked him since he was a young boy learning that his parents had died. But he was really starting to like the man that boy had become, too. Because it was ridiculous that the pack hadn’t been named after the town or county it resided in.

“They are far more than just cops, Ed,” he warned. “They are a powerful group with abilities all their own. Crossing one of the Society isn’t the same as crossing a mortal or even supernatural cop, like Hopper. They are protected against possession, hypnotism, and even enthrallment.”

“Are they all descendants of the original dude?” Steve asked, pressing even closer to Eddie on the sofa. He didn’t like the sound of these supernatural cops either. Because where were they when he was being abused by the Franklins. He couldn’t even remember the night he first changed. He only remembered when he came to and he and Wayne were burying their bodies. He was just so grateful that the abuse was over that he really didn’t think of why.

But Wayne was shaking his head. “According to the records the last Van Helsing died during the oiliphéist riots of 1922 in Ireland.”

“That’s too bad,” Eddie said, cocking his head to the side. “As anti-vampire as the name has become a symbol of these days, I would still have liked to have met one of his descendants.”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve had the pleasure only once. Greta Van Helsing in 1871. She was a spitfire to say the least.”

Eddie ran his hands over his face. “Please tell me you didn’t fuck her...” he moaned.

“Not on your life,” Wayne huffed. “Even if she was immune to the whole agents and supes producing unhinged offspring, she was a lesbian and won’t have even spared me a glance.”

“Unhinged as in cool super powers, unhinged?” Eddie asked, lowering his hands from his face. “Or mental asylum unhinged?”

“Sadly the latter,” Wayne said mournfully. “The magic that they use to protect themselves from being controlled does nasty things to the natural magics supernatural beings are made of.”

“But Van Helsings were immune?” Steve asked, still pressed to Eddie’s side.

Wayne nodded. “Probably because like most things in nature needing a balance, the Van Helsings were naturally the balance to the supernatural creatures of the world. There are probably other families just like them, but Van Helsings are merely the most notable.”

“Makes sense,” Eddie said, taking Steve’s hand and giving it a squeeze. He could tell this talk of the Van Helsings was making him upset.

“In other news,” he said, “The Hughes, the Hollands, the Martins, and the Camerons are all willing to send in guards for Steve.”

“I wasn’t aware the Camerons were supernatural,” Wayne said rubbing his chin. “What are they?”

“Louie Cameron is a selkie, and Debra Cameron is a siren,” he explained. “Making their daughter Vickie one hell of a strong supe.”

Steve sat there with this confused pout on his face. “Guards? Why would I need guards?”

“I don’t trust the Pack right now,” Wayne replied. “There is more going on in that pack then meets the eye and I can’t be everywhere. Especially with Jason causing trouble in town. Patrick tried to warn me early on that Jason would try something like this, but I wanted to believe that there was good in their somewhere.”

Steve’s expression shuttered to a blank mask. “What do I do?”

“Just start hanging out with me and the others outside of the compound,” Eddie said, squeezing Steve’s hand again and covering it with his other hand.

“Okay,” he breathed. They were right, as much as Nancy wanted him to further integrate into the Pack, he needed to be on the outside to see what was going on and understand it.

And he knew the best way to do it, but it was going to take a lot of convincing. But he was up for the job.

~

Notes:

oilipheists are sea monsters from Ireland.

Cameron is the last name I gave Vickie from season four.

And the SAT (a test to determine how well you've learned your lessons over the course of the year not the college one) thing happened to me. I was doing poorly in English because of the stupid correcting sentences for grammar and punctuation bullshit (there is a very good reason I use betas) but when the results came back I got top ten in the NATION for reading comprehension. My friend in the class who getting A's in that class was so mad it wasn't her that she legit stopped talking to me because she was that sure I cheated.

Tag List: FOURTEEN SLOTS REMAINING

Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts @kultiras @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman

8- @kal-ology

[xkseii]

⎮Just One Drop⎮

⏤ Characters: Sakusa Kiyoomi⎮reader

⏤ Including: nsfw (-17)

⏤ Warnings: vampire! Sakusa, bottom! Sakusa, top! Male reader, implied athletic/tall/buff! Male reader, blood mention, injuries, virgin Sakusa who almost never touches himself; may do a part two. Not proofread, I have no brain for that, this whole fic is a mess ngl-

⏤ Summary: Finding your mate and sharing a bit too strong bond.

⏤ 6.400 words

Itachiyama, a private school in Tokyo, and somewhere you dreamed to go to.

It was known to have a lot of athletic clubs, the best equipment, support for the students and a foreign exchange program. Though it was available every year, not many students had the opportunity to get accepted, as it was extremely selective.

And it was because of its same exchange program that you got the opportunity to join this school for, at least, a year. Possibly more if you proved yourself good enough. This opportunity was the greatest you could have. You were currently in a public school, which wasn't bad in itself, and you liked it, but knowing that you could spend a year somewhere much better, who were you to not take this chance.

The program was offered only for students that were part of a sports club, had good results and were recommended by their teachers. Though, this part did not matter much, as it was only showing how much you were valued.

Thankfully for you, and your hard work, you ended up fitting in with their requirements, more or less without surprise. Compared to Itachiyama, your school didn't have much money to spend on clubs, and you couldn't enjoy the sport as much as you wanted to. But with this program, you may be able to train with a real coach, learn more, and know how it feels to have a real team.

So, without any more hesitation, you accepted to leave your country for Tokyo, along with one of your friends.

And only a month later, you were on a plane, going to Japan and joining Itachiyama Institute as a third-year student.

Without any surprise, you were welcomed nicely by some teachers and a few students, which were all more than kind and lovely. There was no doubt that the school chose the calmest and sweetest student to give a good image from the start.

That's how you met Motoya Komori, another third-year who was in the volleyball club, and he quickly became a good friend. The next day, he took the time to show you the city, explaining how everything was working for your first days here, and the time spent helped you to bond together and create a great friendship.

Perhaps it was a surprise for you, but all the students from the exchange program including you became rather popular, as you were for most foreigners and athletes, you fitted right in the standards of this school.

Fortunately, everything was going well. Your first month has been perfect in every way. Despite now living in a whole new country, and only knowing a bit about it, you manage to meet multiple people, get a few friends, some close ones too and joined the club you loved the most.

Unsurprisingly, you weren't the best player here, as you did not get the opportunity to have a coach or a clear routine before. But now, it was the moment to enjoy and improve yourself, you were still an over-average player and training with a good team could only help you. A strong motivation takes over, wishing to become better and be a regular.

As days passed, you gained some habits from this new lifestyle, as every morning you spend time with friends from your class, and then for the rest of the day, you would be with your club members or Komori and his friends, now yours too.

For a reason that was unknown to you, Komori was always busy in the morning and couldn't be with anyone, same for when he was finishing his practice with the volleyball club, he never had the time to do anything after. You never tried to pry into it, as it wouldn't be respectful, and it was normal for him to have things to do. Simply, you just grow curious about why he was so secretive about it, though, you did nothing to find out.

Honestly, you forgot about it for a long while, until you saw him one morning walking into the school, a guy next to him.

This someone was surely a third-year too, they seemed really close, and you couldn't help but feel curious. This unknown person, you guessed was a man with the name Komori pronounced, was rather attractive, also catching your eye by how different he was from your friend.

Komori was someone always joyful, excited, extremely friendly and liked by most people, while this guy was the complete opposite of what you were seeing. He was wearing a mask, no sign of happiness could be found on his face, nor any other emotions except annoyance and tiredness.

Compared to your friend, he was not greeting anyone, not talking or barely a full sentence while replying to Komori, and would not try in any way to interact with any person, or simply ignore everyone. You had no clear idea of who he was, or what was his full name, but he managed to stay in your mind for a long while.

In the following days, you would notice him everywhere you were going, unable to ignore him or not recognize him from afar. With his black curly hair that looked extremely soft, the mask he was wearing, hiding his features except for some, like the two moles on the right of his forehead, and his aura, he was easily seen.

It was driving you crazy. 

How effortlessly your eyes were drawn toward him. There was no reason for it that you were aware of, but it was as if something was enchanting you toward him. 

You still did not know who he was, and yet, he was occupying your mind, magnetic and hypnotizing for you, catching your attention and poisoning your mind. For no reason, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and especially did not want to think about him particularly. It was a strange and bothersome feeling, being thrown toward someone so hard, but not even knowing anything about them that could explain it all. 

Days passed, and this odd attraction did not stop one bit. The most frustrating was that you were the only one sensing it, never once, he looked at you. Though it should be normal, something inside of you was annoyed to not end because of this. After all, you were nobody for him, and he was nobody for you. 

Thankfully for you, the next week, you never saw him once. And so, you almost forgot about him until today. At lunch, as you were eating with everyone and joking around, talking about the last practice or your classes, Komori suddenly started to act strangely. He would blush and stutter while talking, which was far from his usual self. You saw how most were sending him a sweet smile and motioning for him to say something, leaving you confused. 

For some more minutes, he stayed silent, looking blankly at his empty plate, until his head suddenly shot up. With a bashful grin, he offered you to come to his practice this afternoon, to watch him and maybe do something after together. In amusement, you watched as his cheeks turn a deeper shade of red, Komori looking away in embarrassment at his sudden outburst. 

As curious as you were about volleyball and what Komori’s practice looked like, you accepted quickly, as refusing was not an option for you. And genuinely, you never saw him brighten up this quickly, his smile was blinding, to say the least, it could be compared to the sun at this moment. Komori looked so excited and happy that he was jumping on his chair, the others looking at the two of you amused. Soon enough, it was time to go back to class and after patting your back, everyone left after the bell rang. 

The hours passed rapidly, you barely even remember when you started the second class of the afternoon, or when the bell rang and everyone left, either to go home or to their club. At this point, you were moving on autopilot, noticing last second how you were standing in front of your gymnasium and not the volleyball team’s one, making you sigh. 

You walked alone to the other gymnasium, making sure it was the one Komori told you about, this time, before going in its direction. Carefully following the path, you look up a split second from your phone, and you see him. Here he was, waiting outside the building with his back resting against the wall, the same man living rent-free in your mind for more than 2 weeks. 

Thankfully, he was too busy on his phone to notice you pass by him, you opened the door in haste and entered the gymnasium. Even though you only saw him for some seconds, the sudden pressure you felt before the door closed behind you sent shivers up your spine. Your hands were still shaking as your body was screaming at you to run away. You took some seconds to inhale deeply, calming yourself down to not cause a scene before stepping forward. 

As he was quietly waiting for Komori, Kiyoomi was pulled out of his thoughts by the sounds of steps going toward him, he already felt annoyed, sure that he was one of his teammates. Turn out he was wrong, as the person did not even stop, and thankfully, only passed by him without a word.

But then, it hit him, the sweet scent he has been smelling continuously these last weeks. His grip around his phone tightened, all his muscles tensing as he resisted the urge to just yank you toward him and feed. It was such torture when he felt your eyes on him, only wanting to look back at you, but you kept walking as if he wasn’t there. 

He barely had the time to look back before the door closed behind you, the view of your nape and shoulders, along with the shape of your upper back graved into his mind, making his mouth water. He tried so hard to find who was smelling so sweetly for weeks, to no avail, and here you were, showing up like it was nothing. How could you not be aware of him and what you were doing to him, it was insane. 

He was tempted to run after you, just to get a longer time to enjoy your smell, but sadly, his cousin showed up at the same. And unfortunately, he was forced to push to the back of his mind his thoughts about you, or everything that he imagined he could do. Rapidly looking suspiciously at his cousin as he seemed much happier than usual, and then, when a smelled a whip of your smell on Komori, his eye twitched. Did you two know each other? 

Kiyoomi couldn’t help but wonder what was making you so attractive. Perhaps it was your scent, the sweetness of your blood, or how you were cleaner than the rest, the remaining scent of your body wash and shampoo still on you, even after a long day. He knew it sounded creepy, but his need to feed was taking over his senses, and something deep within him was calling, craving for you. Despite all his efforts, he couldn’t help but fantasize about you. And knowing that his cousin could be close to you, made him feel especially annoyed for an unknown reason. In the end, you were always on his mind. 

Stepping inside the gymnasium, you were thankful to recognize some players, you took the time to greet some of them whom you knew through Komori’s acquaintances, before sitting in the bleachers. At the same moment, Komori and the guy from earlier came in, one looking overly excited and the other annoyed to no end. It was strange how he looked so upset but also so close to your friend. 

Someone from the team yelled “Kiyoomi” and you watched as the man’s head shot up, sending a death glare to the too-joyful player. It seemed like your guess was right, he should be a third-year too since the player called him “senpai”. Though you were only sure of his last name and age, and still knew nothing more. At least, it’s a good start, maybe if you learn more about him, you’ll manage to get him out of your mind, as ignoring him was not working. 

Soon enough, the practice started, and you tried your best to find and watch Komori. Despite your efforts, trying so hard to focus on your friend, your eyes were always drawn back on Kiyoomi, each movement hypnotizing you. 

You couldn’t help but observe him with curiosity, almost forgetting about Komori, that was looking over you at that moment, disappointed that your eyes weren’t on him. In silence, he followed your gaze, curious about who you were so focused on, only to find out that you were watching his cousin. He felt his heart being crushed when he saw you with the eyes of someone who was a bit too interested in someone that was not him. 

What pissed him off the most, was how Kiyoomi was acting. He seemed nervous, and clearly destabilized because he was feeling your eyes on him. The light blush on his cheeks was even more annoying, especially when it worsens after the quick look he would take whenever you weren’t watching him anymore. Komori felt his patience run out, not only his cousin had to get interested in his crush, but he managed to get your attention too.

He was going to turn around to focus back on the game, too fuming to watch much longer until he saw his eyes. Komori felt his blood run cold when he witnessed Kiyoomi’s pupils shaking violently, expanding and narrowing rapidly without any control. In a panic, he called a time-out immediately, taking his cousin by the arm, and dragging him away to the changing room without another word, leaving everyone puzzled. 

The players, despite being confused, decided to grab their water and relax until the two came back to the court. One of them, that was your friend, called you down, wanting to introduce you to the rest of the team, excited like a cute child. He quickly explained who you are, that you came because of the exchange program and were really talented in the sport you were practising. 

Without any surprise, you hit off with all of them rapidly, immediately feeling welcomed and appreciated. You could only enjoy how easygoing they were and how simple it was to have a nice discussion with them, the gloomy mood becoming more joyful and light-hearted. 

With your arm thrown over a second year’s shoulders, you relish in the good ambience, almost forgetting about Komori and Kiyoomi. Softly laughing at a dumb joke a player was saying, you felt more comfortable than ever with them. You almost did not notice your friend come out of the changing room, alone this time, looking much calmer and relaxed than earlier. 

Not mentioning what just happened, he joined the discussion as if everything was fine, standing next to you, close enough to be able to whisper some jokes about the players in your ear. Though everything was going well, you could still feel Komori glance at you anxiously, despite his calm and collected act, something seemed wrong. 

Some long minute passed before the intriguing man came back, Kiyoomi finally got out of the changing room and joined the rest of the team, just next to you. Though, Komori quickly placed himself between you and him, putting his hand on your shoulder before introducing you, making you discover that they were cousins. 

It was making much more sense now, as you could understand why they were extremely close and often together even though it seemed like one of the two did not like the other around him. 

Komori took a quick glance at you, not saying anything. Normally, you try to shake hands as a greeting. But thankfully for you, a while ago you noticed how Kiyoomi was avoiding every skin-to-skin contact with absolutely everyone. So instead, you simply bowed, hoping it was enough. 

Thankfully for you, you noticed a while ago how he was avoiding every skin-to-skin contact with anyone, so you didn't try to shake his hand, but simply bowed. You spotted from the corner of your eye how Komori exhaled in relief, knowing how Kiyoomi would have lost it if you touched him without washing your hands or putting on hand sanitiser.

Glad that the incident has been avoided without him needing to intervene, he started talking to you, being the one mostly holding the discussion going. He kept standing in between you and his cousin, pushing him to the side little by little discreetly.

You could see how it was annoying Kiyoomi, and he was starting to lose his patience. The tense atmosphere was making you feel more and more uncomfortable, the situation not getting better in the slightest, so you decided to tell Komori that they should start practising again, as they lost a bit too much time already.

He blushed in embarrassment, and apologized immediately, motioning for Kiyoomi and the rest of the team to go back on the court. As he walked away, the black-haired male was still standing in front of you, eyes piercing through yours with an unrecognizable expression on his face. And then, he left without another word, his shoulder brushing against yours as he almost gently pushed you to the side.

During the rest of the practice, the game changed as he was looking at you, and you were looking somewhere else. You could feel his eyes on you, but you tried your best to focus on the rest of the players instead, despite the burning feeling on the side of your head and neck.

You could see Komori being annoyed at his cousin's behaviour and almost calling him out in the middle of the game, hiding his anger, which was in reality jealousy and kept acting strange.

The tense atmosphere between the two was distracting, especially you that was observing from afar, and you were unable to keep track of what was happening when the two guys were staring down at each other. The other players were awkward too, and the training session was cut short, unexpectedly stopping one hour earlier than usual.

You took the opportunity to exchange numbers with the rest of the players, some of them inviting you to upcoming parties or for lunch. You enjoyed your time with them, meanwhile, Komori and Kiyoomi had already disappeared from the court. You barely had the time to see them get out of the changing room, freshly showered and dressed in their school attire as Komori bids you goodbye, followed by a short apology as he drags Kiyoomi away, whose eyes weren't leaving yours.

That peculiar tension disappeared the moment he stepped out of the building and was out of your sight. It left you shivering, a foreign urge, a nameless craving bubbling deep into your stomach, mind, and heart. It leaves you gasping for air as if something just punched you in the stomach.

The same night, as you were finally home, laying down on your bed with your eyes closed, you felt it, this other presence in the back of your mind. It was subtle, too subtle for you to make anything about it, but it was here. Though the tiredness took over your body, your mind fell into an endless void, unknowingly going straight into his trap. And then, he was here again, the same captivating face and enchanting eyes staring down at you. It was luring you in, making you step forward until you were close enough for him to grab your face, bringing you into a heated kiss.

Everything went too quickly, and before you knew it, the blood in your veins was boiling up, almost as if electricity was going through them. Your legs and core were burning up, tensed and overwhelmed by everything that was happening, this delirious dream driving you mad. It seemed so realistic, you could feel his warmth, smell him and touch him. You couldn't resist the temptation as you held into his waist, bringing him closer and sliding your leg in between his. The moan he lets out was resonating in your mind, echoing through the white void of your imagination.

Your brain was screaming at you to get away, push him and snap out of it, but you weren't able to, too focused on his lips and his taste. The same magnetic aura made your mind go blank, forgetting what you were thinking about the second before.

Kiyoomi smirked at your reaction, wrapping his hands around your neck, his nails digging into your skin to have you even closer, trapping you in his hold. One of his hands slowly danced down, tugging on the shirt you were wearing, exposing more skin as he had the opportunity to move down and gently bite your neck and shoulder.

Everything was too tempting, and he couldn't help but lick the side of your neck, searching for the softest part. He looked down at you, mouth still wide open until his fangs touched the side of your neck, and his mouth closed suddenly onto you, like a predator jumping on its prey.

It hurt so bad at first, your skin was burning, as if someone threw you in a pit of fire. But slowly, the pain subdued, a strange sensation being left behind, your pain and pleasure being twice stronger. You were confused about what was happening, while Kiyoomi was completely high on the taste and satisfaction he felt.

It was certain now, he had found his mate, your linked sensations and dreams were the proof of it. He could feel the pain on his neck as he bites you, his own hands copying you when you cup his face, trying to tug him off. Kiyoomi know how rare it is to get a link this powerful, but he didn't mind it one bit, he was not even expecting to meet his mate one day, and yet, it happened.

The only frustrating part was that everything was happening in your minds only. For now, the link was temporary and would disappear within a few days.

He needed to see you again.

He sensed you grow more frantic, desperately to get him off as now, the bite was really painful. As gently as he could, he opened his mouth, his fangs slowly retracting from your delicious flesh. The smell of your blood was still tantalizing him, but Kiyoomi needed to be patient, it was useless to rush things.

When finally the pain disappeared, you were able to breathe correctly again, fear leaving your mind. Even though it was not real and this guy couldn't harm you, the threat of sucking you dry or killing you was still on the back of your mind. Deep down, you were aware that he never threatened you, and the whole atmosphere didn't feel like he wanted to harm you… especially with how his body was reacting.

His hands were still on your jaw and shoulder, thumb softly caressing your skin, lips colliding soon after. Kiyoomi keep peppering kisses all over your neck, nuzzling against you as he enjoyed the scent of your perfume and blood.

Curious, you look down to observe him, his red eyes catching your attention. In a beautiful way, his pupils were overtaking the colour, blending into a deeper shade, only adding to the profoundness of his eyes. Despite behaving so sweetly, he looked high and mad, with remaining blood on the corner of his lips, staining his skin.

His tongue darted out, licking the blood off with an expression of pure ecstasy, swallowing with great pleasure. His lips parted to let out a sinful moan, showing off his long and pointed fangs, and the urge to taste you again get stronger.

Before he could try to touch you again though, you slapped his hand away, mind clearing up as you took a step back, putting some distance between you and him. He tried to go after you, his hand reaching for your shoulder. Kiyoomi was only some centimetres away before everything went black, and you woke up. His frustrated and disappointed face echoed in your mind as everything disappeared around you, the ground vanished and let you fall endlessly. 

You woke up after this, the fall in your dream forced you awake. You were panting and sweating profusely, your heart beating erratically, still unable to process everything that you just dreamed of. But you weren’t so sure if it was a dream anymore, as you could feel your neck burning and hurting, and after checking in the mirror, your body was covered in red nail marks. They were on your neck, clearly recently made and far too similar to the place Kyoomi was holding you for this to be a coincidence. 

You felt sick, your mind was aching and your stomach turning, as you felt as if something was missing. Strangely, you craved something but had no idea of what exactly. And to not help you with this situation, you rapidly found out that you were hard and dripping, which wasn’t something you wanted to be right now. 

Even after a few minutes, you were still in the same state. You tried to take a shower, to ignore it, watch things that you found disgusting and made your stomach turn, and not in a nice way. But despite this, after doing everything you could think of, it wasn’t coming down. Desperate, and wanting to enjoy your morning before classes, you decide to check the time, seeing how there wasn’t so much time left before going to school. 

Seriously hesitating on what to do, you knew that if you were still like this after long minutes, it wasn’t going to disappear suddenly within this short span of time. Groaning, you convinced yourself that you had no other solution, as you dropped what you were doing and went into the living room, throwing your school bag beside the door. 

And that’s how you ended up sitting on your sofa, lifting the front of your shirt and holding it up with your teeth as you pulled your pants down, stroking yourself slowly. Gradually going faster, you felt your mind go blank, forgetting about all the strange things that happened to you, unknowingly distracting someone else as you relieve yourself. 

Unfortunately for the poor volleyball player, the link between you wasn’t effective only in your dreams, but all the time, both during the day and the night. This means, that if one of you feels something in a strong way, the other will immediately sense it and share that feeling too. 

And so, while getting dressed after waking up feeling discontented by his first dream shared with you, Kiyoomi felt the powerful pleasure going through your body. That bliss coursing through your veins as much as it was in his, his mind went blank as a wave of satisfaction hit him, hard. 

His knees went weak, and he almost fell onto the ground, legs shaking as the sensations were far too powerful for him to withstand. Kiyoomi didn’t know how to feel. First, you ignored him almost all the time during school, then you ended up being pushed away by you inside your dream, and now, you were masturbating just after waking up. Did it mean that he has enough effect on you to give you a hard-on and make you lose your mind? 

Though he wasn’t able to think much longer as he felt his legs give out, the feeling was breathtaking, almost electric, as he never felt something this strong with anyone before, even with those he had a link with. 

Usually, he finds that kind of act absolutely disgusting and unhygienic, which explains why he never touches himself, except for the exception of doing it in someone else’s dream. He was never touching himself, or even thinking about it, even less about spending a night with someone. It was just a distraction. 

But, with the raw pleasure he sensed, unable to ignore it as long as you were feeling it, he could feel his resolve crumble. Your euphoria was taking over his senses, as he could almost feel you, hear you mean and grunt in his ear, imagining your voice as you murmur his name, and unconsciously, his body started to react. 

He really wanted to fight it, refusing to let himself get indulged in such a gross and odious act like this, especially in the morning. But, knowing it was you, pleasuring yourself because of him, was exhilarating, to say the least. It was maybe a unique opportunity to share something with you outside of a dream, pleasuring himself at the same time as you, as if you were the one doing it for him. The idea was so tempting. 

Fixated on what he wanted to do, he completely ignored Komori that should be waiting for him outside the house by now. He could wait for a bit longer anyway, you weren’t going to be at school early today so, there was no reason for them to be in a rush. 

Before he could move towards his bed, a spike of pleasure made him collapse on the ground. In a haste, he pulled his pants down, almost ripping his underwear off as he touched himself for the first time outside a fake reality. The simple contact of his palm against his wet tip made him whine, back arching as his body was sensitive to the point he could feel something come out already. All his muscles were tensed, and he had difficulty breathing as he was overwhelmed by everything. 

Kiyoomi barely started to move when a new wave hits him, feeling your body tense up at the same time as him, he could discern the shakiness of your legs, and almost hear the grunts escaping your lips but muffled by your shirt. Your mind was utterly blank and empty as the link became stronger, now truly unbreakable, as you were unknowingly solidifying it. 

Now, Kiyoomi was able to hear your erratic heartbeat, your unstable breathing, and how you struggled with each inhale. The best thing was the shared pleasure, Kiyoomi could feel each rapid stroke, as he would reply with a slower but tighter one, absolutely worsening your sensitive state. 

As Kiyoomi was trying to match up with your pace, something new emerged, as he felt your body tense up, your breath stopped as a strong sensation broke through your entire body. At this instant, your release triggered his own body to follow you, and cum instantly, even if he wasn’t physically ready to. 

And here he was, in the middle of his room, touching himself for the first time and coming after only a few movements of his wrist. His whole body and brain broke, not functioning anymore, as everything came to a stop. 

It was far too embarrassing. It was so lewd and humiliating, but oh-so-satisfying to have his body give out, Kiyoomi needed it more than anything. 

The thought of being connected to you, being so close to you, feeling whenever you do it, whenever you lose yourself in the forbidden pleasure. It only makes him more addicted to you, desiring to see and taste more. 

If the smell of you and your blood weren’t enough to make him lose his mind, the way your body was moving, how big you were compared to him, and how it left him so many places to bite onto, definitely did. The thought alone could bring him to new highs. He could imagine it already, how he could suck your blood out of you, slowly driving you insane, only for the aphrodisiac of his bite to overwhelm you, him only being able to bring you this endless pleasure. 

Minutes were passing, and despite his mind slowly becoming clearer, he was still frozen in place, his body unable to move. Cum was running down his shaft, onto his hand and sliding down to his elbow, pooling onto the ground. 

He was finally able to breathe correctly, enjoying the relaxed state he was in, high on the pleasure he felt not so long ago. Thankfully for him, it seemed like you only needed to do it once to be satisfied, or else he would have been passed out by the end of the second time. 

But Kiyoomi spoke too soon because he felt it again, this time much stronger, the link activating in a way he didn’t know was possible, his body moving without his consent, his hands going back to hold the tip. His hand moved in synchronization with yours, obediently following your lead even if he didn’t want it. 

He shrieked at the aggressive tempo, the pace was far too quick for him, along with the tight hold around his dick, driving him insane, he was losing it. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything to free himself from this power you had over him. He wanted to tell you to slow down, to let him some minutes to regain control of his body, but it would impossible for you to hear, and even so, you were too lost in the headspace he forced you into. 

It was his own fault, after all, if he didn’t play with your mind while you were sleeping, he wouldn’t be here right now, unable to control his own body or mind. Everything was blurry around him, his ears were buzzing and his lower body was shaking as he tried to hold himself up, gripping the edge of his bed. 

Kiyoomi was awfully sensitive, with no stamina during this kind of play, and so, before he knew it, he was cumming again. Without a doubt, you felt it, and yet you weren’t stopping. His hand was still moving at the same pace despite having just came, and he was now completely drenching his pants, unable to stand up anymore. Kiyoomi fell to the ground, his back hitting the side of his bed as he spread his legs, giving up and leaving you to do all the work.

He knew he couldn’t stop you now, not even decrease the pace until he regain his body’s control. Unfortunately, as long as you’re in this state, you will be the one with the upper hand, and he was forced to endure it. Currently, he couldn’t do anything except roll his head back, arch his back and let his mouth hang open, letting out the most sinful sounds he ever heard made. 

It went like this for so long that he lost count, his body shaking uncontrollably. Then suddenly, you were slowing down, and he could finally breathe correctly, inhaling as much air as he could, his lungs burning. Kiyoomi thought he could relax, but something felt wrong, as he didn’t feel you finish, with no sensation similar to what he felt the first time. Were you really done? It seemed suspicious. 

As he thought this, you were breathing heavily, so close to your high, as you moved your thumb towards your tip, barely pressing your nail into the opening, sending Kiyoomi’s body lurching forward. His voice broke as a moan was forced out of his mouth, this action hurt so fucking good, the pain was addicting. His hips thrusted up uselessly, knowing he wasn’t the one in charge of the stimulation he was receiving. 

And it’s only after another orgasm that he broke down, whimpering your name out loud, begging and whining, crying, pleading for you to stop, and then to keep going, to give him more. Until finally, he shouted out something intelligible, squirting over himself, and his pants, making a complete mess as he was too drunk on these sensations to process anything. 

He humped the air, searching for you as something snapped inside of him, his eyes rolling back in his skull, his whole mind filled with thoughts of you. He hoped you were losing your mind too, while thinking about him, making a mess while hoping he could be there with you. Kiyoomi would do absolutely everything to be in between your legs, lapping at your dick, devouring your thighs and tasting you. He could offer his mouth to you, his entire body, doing anything that could make you happy. 

There were hearts and tears in his eyes, Kiyoomi knew that he needed to have you, to make you his, and have you as desperate as he was for you. It was crazy how badly he was dreaming of marking you, now, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your neck, and forcibly making you cum inside of him. Just imagining how he could drive you mad with only one bite, only a single bite and you were his forever, obsessed with his scent, hypnotized by his eyes and entranced by his body. 

He was aware that a single bite could drive any human insane, making them mad and high on a surreal pleasure. And he couldn’t help but dream of biting you countless times, cover neck and shoulders in his beautiful marks, making you bleed, tasting you without feeding. 

He could see and feel it already, how you would fuck into him harder, unable to think of anyone else but him, destroy his body until he couldn’t walk anymore. How you could make a mess out of him, and only he could bring you to an ecstasy you never felt before, become addicted to this link and sensations. 

For the first time, Kiyoomi desired someone, wishing that you could be his and only his. As his mind was taken away, disappearing into a pit of need and want, determined to make a move as soon as he can, his body went limp. 

You weren’t in a better state on the side, his numerous releases made you almost pass out by the end of it, and as you try to slow down your breathing, needing to get ready to go to school, something in the back of your mind snaps. 

You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you were in the same dream as before. 

⏤ Thank you for reading! I wish you a great day.

⏤ here is my masterlist & ko-fi ⏤

[totothewolff]

Season of Love (2/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: This is a multichapter Toto Wolff x team principal reader fic set along a season of F1. It's a very immersive story full of drivers, team dynamics, races, mystery, and smut. You just bought the Williams team, but nobody really knows who you truly are.

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Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 2: Lights out, and away your feelings go!

Australia By mere luck, Toto had one of those sponsors' events in the afternoon, and he was wearing a Tom Ford tan suit with a white shirt, a classic ensemble, instead of his usual Mercedes kit.

And you, well, you looked so chic wearing a romantic Saint Laurent satin mini dress with an off-the-shoulder neckline paired with ribbon bowtie Jimmy Choo stilettos up to the occasion.

You wave Sam goodbye as she enters the car and returns to the hotel. And then Toto and you stay standing there, not knowing what to do next.

—So, at what time is the reservation? —Toto asks you.

—In two hours, it is downtown.

—Good. We are getting there on time, right?

—Oh yeah, we can go on my c... —You look at the empty space where your Lambo was parked - well, where Michael parked it, now empty and immediately take out your phone, shit! You left it on airplane mode. All messages and missed calls start to appear, red dots everywhere. Your assistant asked if you needed the car or if they had moved it to the hotel hours ago. Later, she sent the chauffeur to pick you up, but he couldn't reach you. He waited for you a long time and left.

—My team took my car, so...

—No worries. I can take us there.

"For sure you can!" you thought. Jesus, why were you so horny lately?

Toto then texts his chauffeur, and on your way, you two go; it was a quiet ride for a bit.

—So...

—So...

You both laugh at the back of the car.

—So our minds are connected, huh? —you joke, referring to your tendency to talk at the same time.

—It's becoming a bad habit, yes —Smiles. —I was going to ask you where have you been existing. Everyone close to me seems to know you, but they never mentioned it before; I feel left out; somehow, I have no idea who you are —Toto tells you.

—First of all, I take serious offense that neither Niki nor Sam mentioned me before; how dare they? And to answer your question in Belgium. I met Niki recently and Sam forever ago but she is pretty private so I guess that's why.

—Umh, I thought Sam and I had something special, but I'm calling it quits —Toto says. —She keeps secrets from me —putting on a fake sad face.

—Welcome to da' club. She's all Lewis's now.

-

Then, at the restaurant.

Toto and you were greeted by a blond supermodel-looking hostess who took you to your booked table. You entered the historical building - big old brown bricked walls, high ceilings with restored wooden beams, and dark marble tile floors - barely lit with just a couple of lights strategically placed reflected on the walls. The tables were small and intimate, and all the furniture was statement pieces - wooden carved and expensive textiles - the silverware and china were spectacular. The place was a printery back in the day, and it ended up in the middle of downtown and has now turned into a Michelin-starred restaurant.

The hostess acted extra caring with Toto, taking all the time to tenderly adjust his blindfold and explain every single step and detail of the dining experience. Since he couldn't see her, she went all handsy, relying on touch a bit much, and for obvious reasons, she tied your blindfold too tight. Really, girl?! Sorority like in where?

—So it's crucial for the experience when you give the food to each other, slowly savor the flavors and then start a conversation about each dish, what it made you feel, what reminded you of, what you thought it was, taking turns —she tells you two as she takes each your hand and makes you feel the space where a single plate full of finger food where to be placed - on top of a marble "lazy susan." —Please let me know if you need me —a lot of emphasis on "need me" and more addressed to Toto than you.

Wait, what?! Give each other the food?! What on earth?! You are so glad Toto isn't able to see you because, for sure, you are tomato red. Then you hear the hostess walk away.

—I frequent high-cuisine restaurants all over the world, yet I haven't dared with this one. It has so many mixed reviews —Toto tells you.

—I met the Chef at an auction gala for charity. He sat at our table and sold us the idea, which sounded exciting and intrigued me, so I told him I would stop by when in Melbourn —you add. He never mentioned that we had to feed each other during the experience.

A moment later, the dish arrived, and the experience began. Your hands were shaking a little bit. Your days went from ignoring Toto's bare existence to placing food into his mouth now.

—By all means, you go first —He offers you. Why did he have to be a gentleman?!

—Sure, thanks —You don't know where to start, so you pick a bite and stay there frozen when Toto notices it softly grabs your hand to guide you to his mouth to avoid you pocking him an eye with the food. Many "Oh god, oh god" fill your mind. You could sense him slowly biting the food from your fingers, his warm breaths on your skin, while hearing soft crunch noises.

He munches. And you wait, hand now resting on the table.

—Soft skin —he says.

—That is what it tasted you like?!

—No, of course not —Toto softly chuckles. —You have soft skin. The bite tasted like, amh, some sort of Gnocchi, but it wasn't. I'm not a big fan of this one and its flavor.

—So you like Italian cuisine?

—Everyone likes Italian cuisine, duh.

—Excuse you? That attitude, Sir! —you flirt, I mean, joke with him.

—Yes! I used to spend the summers in Italy with my family. It is a country that reminds me of my father. Cinque Terre has a special place in my heart.

—You miss your dad —You say before thinking, shit! Now he will assume that Sam and you gossip about him or think you Googled him. Shit! You are supposed to not know anything about him. Lol, if he knew. —It must be hard being away from family all the time with this busy schedule —Smart girl... Good save..?

He looks at you, a bit confused. —Ahm, yes. I miss my dad.

—Okay, it's my turn! —you shift topics quickly and naturally.

Toto picks up a small bite, and you wrap your hand around his wrist, guiding him to your mouth. Your thumb finger could feel his pulse, which weirdly relaxes you. You bite the food slowly, and your lips make a bit of contact, brushing the skin of his fingers.

—What does it taste you like? —he asks you. You try your best not to have dirty thoughts.

—Feet? God, this is awful —you answer while trying to chew the fucker.

Toto almost chokes on his water. Who calls feet a signature Michelin-star dish?

—I'm so hating this! I can't with pretentious places, to be honest. Uptight people are the worst!

—You tell me I live surrounded by those, but you will be fine. Why did you mention the uptight people?

—Send tips. Because there is no way an average person could have come up with this idea and this type of food! What are these flavors, honestly?!

—You are hilarious.

—Aw, thanks. What am I to you, a clown? Well, every circus needs one... I'm glad to help! Why do you keep laughing, stop!

—You are so right; F1 can be a circus! —Toto admits.

—So, what's your job at the F1 circus? No, seriously, don't laugh. TOTO STOP. Do you juggle or what? —You two keep reaching closer over and under the small table, knees now touching.

—Highly accurate! Or I could be that one guy on the tightrope! —He waves his arms.

—So meta. Listen, for us girls being the ones stereotypically called "catfight-ty," you guys...

—You have no idea! And it is just starting...

—Does the drama get too good? You are getting me excited! Don't play with my heart, Torger.

—I won't —Somehow, it sounds more profound and meaningful. Silence.

—Can we go back to the food, please? We are getting distracted from its delicious flavors —you say amidst giggles. —What? Don't you believe me? This dish is so good, "Latifi good".

Chuckles. Then you notice Toto left his right hand on top of yours this whole time.

With your free one, you pick up another portion. —Oh, you are going to love this one. Smells, uhm, so good. Wait for my soft hands to come closer —you tease Toto.

He loses it. People around you start judging you two; you are being "noisy."

—Why suddenly I don't want to open my mouth? I'm not helping you get there anymore. Find your way; if you miss it, then I'm so sorry.

—Oh, don't you worry, "Tots". I can always ask for more of these.

—Oh god, no.

The dining experience ended on the sixth small bite, thank Jesus. You two never walked out of a restaurant that fast, and none of you felt like staying to experience the drinks part, judging by the food.

But were in desperate need of refreshers. The night was now fully set, and the air was fresh. You two walk almost hand in hand on the sidewalk under the clear skies, choosing to explore the city, looking in the surroundings for a pub. You were lured by a very busy one - with live music - three drunk girls burst out of the door in a great mood, and it looked packed; then it must be good!

It was. —Do I ask to pour you a pint, too? Or are you on a diet or something? —Toto offers you on his way to get drinks. A great cover of "Your Love by The Outfield" played in the background. The singer had great vocals, and the guitarist was so talented.

—On a diet? God, no. I'm not that fit! Who gives that excuse? Who's that picky?

—There are people —Toto answers, a bit sad. You wonder if Sussie behaved like that. Of course, you don't dig.

While he goes on his mission, you find the last free table for yourselves. The place was what you pictured when someone said "pub". A classic, extensive wooden bar, tap beer, and tons of bottles on display. Small round tables, bar stools, and many empty frames hanging on the wooden panel walls mixed with art deco posters. It's nothing fancy but eclectic and cool.

As time passed, you two got drunk and the beers, too. You talked and talked and talked about everything. At least what you two wanted to share, obvious subjects were avoided. Toto didn't mention Sussie the whole time, and you chose not to reveal much about your "situation." The two of you formed a bond and had such chemistry none could explain. You were feeling so comfy with each other. He looked so happy and having a blast, and you were, too.

Then, the drinking contest started, and you sent your best knight to battle. You ended up sitting cross-legged on top of the bar with your short dress going up with your every move, surrounded by a group of people watching the spectacle - as well as the other couples of contestants - with Toto on his feet right next to you, resting one of his hands on your thighs. At the same time, you poured the beers directly into his mouth. The first one to finish a row of four pints with no pauses and successfully do "the loaded twirl" - four fast spins - then walk to ring the bell at the end of the counter - without falling - could leave not paying a penny, and win a cool metal medal too.

Toto sounded the bell first. And the place went fucking nuts.

By the end of your night out, you two couldn't even walk straight as you were being playful on the sidewalk on your way to meet your driver. At some point, you lost a heel while dancing, you knew how to move and rhythm was natural to you. Toto carried you around until a good soul gifted you his flip-flops; the poor unknown hero was so into you. Fantastic pubs and guys on flip-flops, thank you, Australia.

While rocking the stranger's flip-flops with your Saint Laurent mini dress, you were singing and throwing some moves on the street at the sound of "Notorious by Duran Duran" - it was the last song you heard the band played before leaving and got stuck in your head - it was around 4 a.m. by then.

Toto had his medal wrapped around his head, looking all stupid and hot. There is no sight of his suit jacket. He must have lost it when you took him to the bathroom - of course, you waited for him outside. He was too drunk to get there alone - or when you two started dancing, burning some of the alcohol in your systems.

There is something about him that makes you feel so many things, and you don't want the night to end. And you wanted to spend more time with him, listening to his voice, hearing his laugh, looking at his eyes, having his body near yours. You find him so attractive.

—I don't remember the last time I had this much fun; it must have been ages ago! —he says, way too loud and drunk.

—Me too! We should do this again! Are you sure it's here? —you reply, looking around. No cars in sight.

—Yes! I'm not that drunk. Here is where the pin marks —he says, looking too closely into his phone. His nose almost touched the screen, looking at the map.

—Let me see.

—Nein —He raises his phone, extending his arm, placing it out of your reach. You jump to grab it, failing miserably. You ended up bumping him instead. Balance isn't a thing for any of you at the moment. And you both get closer. At some point in the night, you two started to behave like magnets, unable to keep away from each other, all handsy. Toto places a hand on your lower back to steady you.

You aren't sure if the sensation you are feeling is the alcohol in your system or the butterflies in your stomach.

—You are so carefree. Zero pretentious. So fun. So captivating, so... —Toto says in such a dangerous voice, staring at your lips with his fingers, placing your hair behind your ear.

You two get closer.

—So..? —You beg him to continue, staring at his lips too. You take the lead and start closing the distance between you.

It's been a while since either of you had sex in your lives.

Or love.

He looks at you with desire and affection but without moving an inch. Then Toto decides to take a step back.

That distance feels like miles, and the car arrives. Ending an almost perfect night.

You feel ashamed since you overstepped and carried yourself away. None of you mentioned what just happened on the ride back to the hotel.

-

Spending time with you starts to feel like a necessity to him now.

Toto is standing there, left shoulder leaning against the bar wall near where the band is playing, sipping his beer, watching you dance with some strangers, glowing and smiling, and having fun among those girls while he admires your curves and body movements. You have the magic to make him forget about the rest of the world, its people, and its problems. Going out with you tonight felt like healing, like self-care. 

After days of being heartbroken, Toto called things off with Sussie, which was not an easy choice. She was the love of his life, or so he thought, and after spending a significant portion of your life with someone, saying goodbye to that person is never easy.

Even if tonight was great and felt like a lucid dream, he couldn't escape reality forever. This Cinderella story had an end.

Of course, he notices the way you look at him. The attention you pay to his every word, your excitement every time you make him smile, or how you lean closer to his touch whenever the two of you make accidental - or not - contact.

But he wasn't ready for you. Of course, he would love to make a move and enjoy the whole of you, explore your every corner, trace your hips with his hands, and feel your body beneath his, making you release sounds he would love to hear. He wanted to fuck you badly, but you weren't just for a one-night stand.

You deserved someone who could fully admire you. That worshiped you. And Toto wasn't able to be that guy at the moment. He felt wounded and needed time for himself.

So, when you had the courage he lacked to make the move, knowing that if he accepted that kiss, you would wake up tangled in his sheets, he stepped back.

Seeing your surprised, embarrassed, and hurt reaction spiraled him into coming days of somber mood and turned into a quiet ride back to the hotel.

-

Once you reach your destination, the driver opens the car door for you, and you step out of it, praying your balance has returned. After that fiasco ending of the night, all the alcohol in your system seems to have evaporated thanks to that emotional gut punch Toto gave. You glimpse Toto catching your step, walking now as normal as you.

You two may be walking seemly normal now but your looks scream drunks, loud and clear! - messy hair and clothes, not to mention your flip flops, a thing that made you smile as you remembered the now distant memory - as you passed by a floor-to-ceiling mirror on the way to the elevators.

The bellboy pushes the buttons to open the elevator doors for you.

—On which floor is your room? —he asks.

—Oh, no, we aren't...

—Eleven —you answer a little deadpan, interrupting Toto.

—Fourteen —he mumbles.

As you two go up, you start saying goodbye, also wanting to cut the tension a bit. —It was a fun night, "Tots"! My liver may disagree, but we'll see —you smile.

—Yeah, yeah, it was, except for that horrid food —he replies.

—Let's not, let's bury that part.

He nods with a small smile. The door opens on your floor. You smile at him one last time and head out.

Toto wants to say, "Wait!" or follow you down that corridor, inviting himself to your room and bed, but instead, he remains just standing there, and the elevator goes up.

-

You take your time to walk down the corridor, hoping there is still a chance, till you hear the sound of the elevator's doors closing and following it, total silence, no footsteps, no movement. So you let out a sigh and get inside your room.

You are left facing a feeling of emptiness and solitude as you walk across the empty and dark suite with your surviving heel in hand, and then you toss it across the room on the carpet. You enter the shower and start washing your make-up and body off, letting your mind wander to the idea that the two of you could be there right now.

So, a bit defeated by not having Toto's naked and wet body before you, you send yourself to bed, struggling to fall asleep and shut down your brain; after a while, you feel yourself drifting away in the arms of Morfeo - and sadly not Toto's.

-

—He thinks I'm captivating and have soft hands —you say while giggling like a teenager, adding sugar to your Chai at the end of the counter. Already in a better mood, trying to look at the bright side of things.

—Soft hands??? —Sam replies, making a silly face and grabbing a napkin.

You two meet on your way to get Starbucks, located two buildings away from the hotel. You are still hungover and need fuel before stepping into the paddock.

—You know, never mind. I don't want to know —Sam adds, biting her bagel.

—Oh, wait. No. Nothing like that happened —you wave your hands in concern.

—Calm down; you know he and Sussie are in the middle of a time-off. Nothing wrong if it had happened. He has been in such awful moods lately that I think he needs it to happen. This time, their breakup seems real.

—Really!?

—Can you at least don't sound that excited? Oh god, you are smiling. I hate love —Sam sips her black coffee, rolling her eyes at you.

—Leave me live my fantasy, alright? —praying sign, you joke.

—Now you will be all weird around him, won't you?

—Nooo, well, maybe a little. What? Like you don't ship us.

—Puff —Sam lets out.

—Oh, you fed me way too many details about him for years and set us up last night just because, huh?

—Okay. Fair. I sold you the idea. Am I clever, or what? Listen, I care about you two a lot, and frankly, I think you are great for each other.

—Ooh, so Sam Dobrev has a heart.

—Shut up! Please don't make me regret it —she replies, all done with life.

-

—Hi, big guy —Sam pops her head inside Toto's office, simultaneously knocking on the open door.

—You owe me one —Toto answers deadpan. Concentrated, looking straight at his iPad, not bothering to look at her.

—Why?

—That restaurant you made me go to was horrible.

—Well, I didn't pick the place, so no whines to me, but at least the company was fantastic, right?

—Umhju —Toto mutters, still looking at the screen. Then silence.

Sam interprets that answer as I'm not telling you anything else.

—Since you are here trying to gossip. Aren't you busy? If you have free time, you could help me with several things.

—Jeez, that mood. I'm not here to gossip. Here, sign this. Niki needs it.

Toto reads the paper Sam just gave him and picks up his phone. —I need to make a call. Would you mind closing the door on your way out? Thank you.

—Okay —Sam answers slowly and exaggerates the "O" while doing what was asked. Even she knows messing with a somber Toto wasn't a good idea.

Unfortunately for you, no gossip or insights of your night out were obtained from Toto.

-

It was a Grand Prix victory for Lewis. And a third place for Mick, but since it was his first podium, you guys celebrated as if he had just won the race. Sadly, Millie got pulled out of the track for a technical issue with the car.

You were hoping to chitchat with Toto at the podium ceremony, make him laugh a little, and watch his beautiful smile. Well, you hoped that the entire day, actually. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Until you spotted him in the distance, there was no casual way to start a conversation with him that way, and you didn't want to be perceived as pushy or desperate going straight to him. So you let the idea die. There was no rush.

If something was meant to be, it will happen without forcing things.

Right?

-

Azerbaijan

On the paddock in Baku, Toto chose to behave the opposite of that night in Melbourne. Serious, professional, and borderline unfriendly - but still polite.

That caught you off guard, and it was so confusing. After spending that great time together, you thought you two were on your path to becoming friends or more if luck was on your side. You didn't get the sudden change, and it was a bit hurtful when you went to say hi to him - all warm and smiling - and he gave the cold shoulder with a blunt "Good morning" and kept on walking.

You stood there looking a bit stupid, wondering if you did something to bother him or if he was acting Austrian. Maybe Toto was feeling really uncomfortable by how you approached him at the end of that night. Damn, drunk you!

But then, a couple of hours later:

"Unknown" is typing...

—Darci told me you left your office to have lunch. But I'm here outside your hospitality and don't see you - Toto.

Your assistant gave him your number. —Hi!!! Yes, I'm here having lunch.

—Where? I'm wearing my good glasses, and I'm sure you are not that bald guy eating a salad.

—Sandro is a very nice guy. Look up, grandpa!

—The rooftop? What are you, a pigeon?

No joke in reply, just an honest: —I like the view from here. It's peaceful! Bonus points for being private. No one bothers me here or intrudes. It's my secret special place. Do you want to join?

Toto finishes climbing the ladder and goes to greet you, kissing you on the cheek. As he does so, a crazy thought crosses your mind: What if you turn your head? Is stealing a kiss considered harassment? But you don't.

You two share your homemade Yakimeshi - you love cooking even if you have a private Chef, and you are damn good at it, well, according to everyone that has eaten your food, so you ask the hotel to get you the fresh ingredients you need - while talking about the day, sharing ideas, throwing shade, and enjoying each other's presence.

—What a diva! —you reply, grabbing a portion with your chopsticks.

—I know. I expected better, but engineers... you know —Toto shrugs.

—Ye! —you agree. Sometimes, they acted, well, a little bit challenging.

Toto was acting so relaxed and casual as you expected him to be, and not what was going on in the morning. You wonder so badly why there is a change in ways, but you don't dare to ask.

"What if he has bipolar disorder?" a question that came to your mind at some desperate point during your day. Not that there was something wrong with that.

The sun is setting, and you two enjoy the view, sitting next to each other - no space in between - He places his arm around you, palm resting next to your left hand, but without making physical contact.

This becomes a routine for you two, lunching together on the rooftop of the W hospitality, away from the rest of the world, in your private little bubble. It becomes your favorite moment of the day. And Toto's, too, even if he swore he would never like routine.

-

Miami

—Excuse me, excuse me, how did the tire taste you like? —you tease a very solemn Lewis walking past you on the paddock while you pretend to hold an invisible mic at his face, acting like a reporter. An instant smile forms on his lips.

—Roscoe attack! —Lewis commands.

Roscoe stares at him for a second and then wanders to sniff a palm tree, not caring.

—I think your trick didn't work —you get closer to greet him with a hug.

—He is too lazy for that —he tells you while embracing you.

—You are too cute; don't listen to that man! —you say with a silly voice, addressing Roscoe, letting Lewis go, and flexing to pet the dog, rubbing around his ears, which Roscoe seems to enjoy.

It was a Qualy of hell for Mercedes. Lewis's car's back tire flew out into the air before bouncing on a safety barrier at speed, almost hitting him back. Plus, George's car ended up in the gravel after losing power.

In contrast, Williams did great. Mick was one with the car, achieving the day's fastest lap.

—Feeling better, sweetie? —you ask Lewis with honest concern, after seeing the incident unfold and how he made it out of the car really distraught.

Although you must admit that even though that whole thing wasn't funny, the memes were pure gold, so you texted Toto your pick: the one where the tire hit the space station with a photoshopped explosion, the one with Lewis's face photoshopped on a baseball player hitting a home run, but instead of the ball it was the tire and your favorite, the one with photoshopped Toto, Lewis, and George riding the tire to the sky.

—Yeah. I'm good. A positive mindset always helps, thanks.

—I think I just saw you kicking, crying, and screaming in the bathroom, Mr. Positive Mind Set —Sam joins the conversation, teasing him.

—HA HA

—So, what's the plan for tonight-A? —she asks.

—Noone human says tonight like that. Not even Michael Jackson on drugs —you tell Sam.

—We are in Miami, chica! Aren't we clubbing?! —she replies.

—Are you high?

—I will if we go out...

—You realize we are here for work, right? —Lewis asks her.

—Like we haven't done it before. What's the worst that could happen? Toto finding out? You losing the race? Toto, finding out you lost the race because you went out clubbing with us?

—Yes! —you all answer at the same time. —To all of that —you add.

—Well, not if Toto comes with us...

Lewis starts laughing like a madman. —Sam, are you suggesting convincing Toto to go clubbing with us the night before the race so he doesn't get mad if he finds out we went clubbing?

—I got lost, mate —George arrives, earing that last part, trying to figure out what the hell.

—Well, I'll not be convincing him. Y/N is.

—ME?!

—If you really love me, you will —Sam pushes you toward the Mercedes' motorhome.

Gaslighting a bit much?

-

How am I supposed to do this? I'm going to sound so unprofessional. Although, technically, you two went out pub-ing?? and got drunk the night before the race in Australia. Okay, that made-up word sounds terrible; let's never use it again, so there may be a slight chance to relive that.

At least you needed to practice your words before going in there since "Hi, Toto, wanna go clubbing?" wasn't an option but destiny was a bitch; you two crossed paths before you had the opportunity to rehearse. Toto was on his way back to his office; he left his badge access on his desk. He seemed surprised to see you there; you were far away from the Williams' grounds. So you are forced to improvise.

—Are you looking for Sam?

—No, not really, not this time.

—Oh. Niki?

—Nope.

—Lewis?

—You.

Toto was now standing right before you with his hands in his pockets, all tall and handsome. You liked him even more when he wore his reading glasses.

You start a bit shy; Toto has a powerful presence. —I heard Miami has excellent places, and because last time I made you join me for that awful dining experience, I thought maybe we could go out and have a good time but in a better establishment.

—Tonight?

He sounds slightly judgy. You go on: —I was talking with the guys, and they mentioned "Floyd." It sounds great...

—The guys?

—Sam and Lewis, and George...

—Ooh, they sent you? Sam!

Oh boy.

—The cocktails sound goo...

—I'm not taking my drivers drinking or to a nightclub before the race or allowing it. It's ridiculous —Toto interrupts you again.

You look at him, now slightly nervous and bummed out.

—None of us is going; it's not happening —Toto adds firmly.

Yeah... He was a pro at the top of his game. Of course, he cared about discipline, mindsets, and winning races and titles; what were you thinking?!

You nod apologetically. Your eyes look a bit sad, well, because... You don't need to explain why. Just start turning around to head back and tell them the news.

—Wait! We could go to "Basement", which has a bowling alley and a DJ. But no drinking! Not even a drop for anyone; we must return to the hotel at a reasonable hour. Do you like that? That makes you happy?

—Sounds perfect to me —your smile is big and bright. Did Toto change his mind to please me?

-

To make things even, you end up bringing Millie and Mick. You wanted to make clear you weren't playing unfair tactics with your opponents. You earnestly desired to spend a good time with the people you began to care about.

The place was all for yourselves. It was a club slash bowling alley with colorful neon lights reflecting on the lanes, varying intensities and colors to the DJ's beats. It was a dope place.

Lewis invites Seb. They two took bowling seriously and had a years-long competition. They show you a list of their scores on Lewis's iPhone going back to the dark ages.

Bono also shows up, and Carlos and Lando, too, God knows how.

Lando starts stretching right in front of you, warming up, and making eye contact with you while doing his poses in a bit too sexual and exaggerated way. Samanta and you start laughing at him for acting all idiot. You two sit on the bowling benches while drinking Coke and eating popcorn.

—Every group needs a slut —you tell Lando.

—I don't think you are impressing her, man —Carlos joins, watching the spectacle, on his feet.

—It reminds me of when little children warm up before jumping into the pool —you kill Lando with your words.

—You have never seen legs like this —he tells you, overconfident. All of you laugh. —But, I will fight for your heart, malady. Is there another knight brave enough to face me in a bowling fight to the death?

—But what's the prize?! —Seb screams across all lanes.

—A NIGHT with the princess —Lando claims.

—Keep dreaming, sweetie —you reply.

—A KISS from the princess —he backtracks.

—Fine! Everyone, write your names here! —Sam takes a Post-it and a pen out of her purse - an assistant's habit - and passes them around.

—WHAT?! What are you doing?

Sam starts folding the papers and mixing them up. —The council calls Sir Hamilton to the pit!! Please choose your horse and weapon for the fight (lane and bowling ball) —Sam reads Lewis's name from the paper she picks up, and then she selects another one. —Warrior Dobrev to the fight! —cheers are heard, and Mick and Carlos pat Millie on the arm and back; Vettel massages her shoulders when she stands by her approach area. —Knight Wolff to the pit! And last but not least, Warrior Bonnington, too! —there were only five lanes. —You all brave souls are to fight buffoon Norris for a kiss of the Lady. Lord Vettel and I will oversee the combat.

—Hey! —Lando complains, pouting. Then, George starts motivating him, and they start making stupid grunts and jumps before the bowling round begins.

—The battle commences now! —Sam calls.

—You really need to stop watching House of the Dragon —you tell her.

—It's official: Bono is the worst player I have seen —Vettel interrupts, watching Bono be the first to get disqualified. —Is it okay if I leave you a second? If I don't go and bother Lewis every time to time, I get anxious —Sebastian sweetly tells you.

—Go, honey —You pat his hand and let him go. You two were watching the competition unfold together.

Lando, Lewis, and Toto were really good at it, but Millie was in a league of her own.

—How can someone so tiny have such a steady grip? —Lewis tells her she was in the lane next to his.

—Lew, I gladly would share with you all my secrets if I wasn't determined to win this —Millie replies.

—So you really want to kiss her? —he is curious, and a little smile forms on his lips.

—Look at Y/N, I wouldn't mind, but I don't want to. I think all five of us here hate losing... or love winning. Well, except for Lando, I believe he truly wants to kiss her.

"Not just him," Lewis thinks, looking in Toto's direction. After years of being teammates, he could read him like a book. It isn't just Sussie who has him shifting moods. Since you appeared, Toto began to act all weird. When Lewis noticed the looks you both exchanged, everything made sense to him.

And another fantastic strike from Lando.

Millie was almost right. Lewis loves winning and hates losing, but not when friends or feelings are in the middle. A lesson Sebastian taught him. So Lewis prepares and throws the worst shot he has ever made. His bowling ball bounces, hits the gutters, and invades the next lane, instantly disqualifying him.

Hisses and laughs fill the room. Lewis turns around, shrugs, smiles, and goes to take a seat. A minute later, he feels a thumb rubs his neck, caressing it. —Sir Hamilton, my good Sir, you sure are an honorable and respectable fellow —Sebastian tells him with his best Shakespearean voice.

—Stop talking like that, please.

—It doesn't please you how this low-grade peasant talks, good Sir?

The face Lewis gives him is priceless. Vettel laughs, and Lewis slides closer to him on the bench.

A loud "AAARGGH" comes from Lando as he dramatically throws himself to the floor. Wooff, what an awful shot.

—Luck next time, Lando! —Sam teases him as Carlos and George pass by, carrying him to the benches, one grabbing him by the legs and the other by the arms. Out of the competition, he was.

Now, it was a Dobrev vs. Wolff clash.

—Make our house name proud, niece! —Sam yells at her.

—You are having too much fun, aren't you? —you tell her.

—Sorry —Sam covers her face with her hands, monkey emoji-like. —Your knight made it to the final. Good for you, girl, but Millie is ruthless, so...

—I know! I can't watch any more. I'm too nervous! I feel like I will puke if Toto wins or if he loses.

—...she misses.

—WHAT?!

Okay, okay, this wasn't happening. Oh God. Sam turns to you and gives you a smile The Grinch will envy.

—Knight Wolff wins the battle! And takes the princess! —Sam announces. You shoot her a dead glare. —...'s kiss

Cheers are heard. Then everyone gets on their feet and starts chatting and bowling. Laughs and mocktails fill the room.

You pass Lando, still lying on the bench, on your way to get a drink. Now you need tequila in your system. —Oh, I'm so wounded! Only a kiss on the lips would heal me —he tries, offering his arms to you. The kid has the material to be an actor.

—Carlos!! Lando needs you!! —you joke back in answer, smiling at him. Lando gets on his feet in less than a second. —All good, I feel better! —he tells you, chuckling.

Toto is there when you reach the bar, sipping a whiskey on the rocks. —Not a drop of alcohol, you said? —you mock him.

—And you are here to ask for a Coke, right? —he teases you.

—A Paloma, please —you ask the bartender. —You could be a professional bowling player —Please let that become a meme, you think, and an image of a Toto in a complete bowling outfit surrounded by a group of senior citizens with white hair comes to mind.

—You picture it; that's why you are smiling.

—Nooo...

He arches an eyebrow.

—Fine. I admit it! —you sit on the bar stool next to him and rest an elbow on the bar counter, smiling like an idiot and gazing at Toto until he notices it and gets on his feet. 

—I haven't seen you play, let's go! —he tells you.

—Oh, if this really were the old ages and it was me who had to fight for your hand, consider yourself single for the rest of your life...

-

You all arrive together at the hotel and walk inside the lobby, making a lot of noise.

—Shuusshh!! Zack doesn't know I'm not in my room! —Lando whispers, looking around.

—Sure, he is hiding behind that plant, Lando. That old fart is so fucking asleep in his bed, mate! Calm down! —Vettel adds.

—Hey! You haven't kissed Toto yet —Lewis recalls and addresses you.

—Right! Give him his prize! —Mick adds.

You feel your cheeks turning red. —Are you all going to stare and make it all weird?

—YES! —everyone answers.

—You guys suck! —you complain, pretending to be annoyed at them.

—Not as much as I would like to. WHO SAID THAT?! —Millie dirty jokes, looking around.

—Millie Alexandria Dobrev! —Sam shouts, shocked. —I can't believe you...

Between giggles and two Croatians fighting in the background, you kiss Toto for the first time.

With your left hand, wrap Toto's bicep and rest your right on his chest as you reach his lips on your tiptoes. The kiss is brief, delicate, more like a brush of lips, but it is enough to make the butterflies in your stomach go wild and to still be on cloud nine when you reach your room.

-

Monaco

You were so excited to be officially living in Monaco. It was your first week there, and you had never lived on your own before. And since Sam also resided there, you spent lots of time together. You two were enjoying the break and touring the city around.

Miami went terrific, and that kiss still made rounds on your head.

Sam and you were walking in the area close to your new place when you turned the corner and were greeted by this scene: A furious Monegasque girl screaming at the top of her lungs in French words that did not sound nice at all and throwing objects out the window while a man on the street was trying to picking them up and reason with said girl. Some people were staring, and others were rushing to pass by.

—Is that Charles?! —Samanta asks you, stunned, pointing to the guy crouched and picking up what looked like a pair of Jordan's.

Yeah, that was Charles Leclerc. You two look at each other concerned and rush to help.

—Hi —Sam shouts among the screams in French.

—Oh, hey, Sam —Charles looks pretty embarrassed.

You quickly offer him the almost empty tote bag you were carrying and speed walk to grab an open, worn-out cardboard box from the greengrocery next door. The three of you start getting his things inside while avoiding getting hit by the last objects thrown out.

—Thank you —he says to you. —My girlfriend went mental.

All of you hear a loud bang and look up; she shuts the windows dramatically. "More like ex-girlfriend now" you think.

—Merde —you hear Charles say. —My keys and wallet are inside there, fuck!

You can't avoid feeling bad for the guy. He looks so done with life right now.

—Ahm, Charles, if you want to join us, we are grabbing lunch. We can grab some cocktails, too; I'll treat you guys. You seem in desperate need of alcohol and a chat.

—You're right, I need alcohol, thank you. I would love to.

The three of you walk your way to a restaurant Charles loves. It was pricey, but you agreed to let him pick the place since you were spoiling him and trying to lift his spirits.

—Huff, why are all the streets in Monaco inclined? —you complain after climbing the fourth hundred stairs of the day. —On the bright side, tho, I just need to live here to skip leg day at the gym.

Charles laughs. That's good!

The face the hostess makes when you three arrive and place the second-hand cardboard box with Charles's things on the fancy counter - clothes, some books, sneakers, a Funko Pop of Charles himself for some reason, and what looks like Xbox controllers, a man's most prized possession - makes it worth it almost losing your legs to get there.

—Good evening. Table for three? Right this way. Terrace, as usual, Mr. Leclerc? —she asks.

—Yes, please.

You are led to your table. It was a sea-inspired high-cuisine restaurant. The ceiling of the place had a breathtaking art installation: A whale made from bamboo wind chimes. —The waiter is on his way; here is the food and mixology carte —she offers you. It takes you a long time to read the entire selection.

—Ask for whatever you guys want; the check is on me. Don't hold back —you offer them.

—Great, then! It would be two spritzes instead of one, please! —Sam gestures with her fingers at the waiter, who is already taking your order. Sam seems so happy and excited; for someone who grew up that rich, she loves getting stuff for free.

—I would like a Tequila and Tonic with two tequila shots, please —you finally choose.

—A margarita and two shots of tequila for me. To start —Charles orders.

The drinks arrive quickly. At the same time, you hear everything about Charles' toxic relationship, giving him the space to spit it all out; as more alcohol makes it to the table, the more details you get.

After a good couple of hours of free therapy, high cuisine, drinks, relationship advice, and tragic love stories, it got dark.

—Well, it was a damn good chat! I'm glad we were able to help you, my friend. But we better go —Sam says to Charles. —I'm walking you back to your place —she addresses you. —I have to wake up early tomorrow. Toto wants me to join the Mercedes' Zoom call at 7 a.m., and I don't want to see his annoying, angry face at me.

The thought of an angry Toto makes you bite hard the tiny chocolate cake you are eating as dessert.

—Oh, no worries! It's just all the way down the street; I will get there without problems —you say while savoring the remains of your cake.

—Are you sure? —She inquires. You forgot how protective of you Samanta was, even if she was younger than you.

—Yeah, go, go. It's never a good idea to make an Austrian guy angry —You joke.

Charles choked on his drink, laughing. —Sweet Lord.

Sam giggles, hugs you two goodbye and waits for her Uber.

—It's late, I'll walk you. There are plenty of good hotels near your building and the marina; since I'm not going home, I need to book a room —Charles mentions.

—If you don't mind, you can crash at my place; there's not much furniture yet, but you are welcome to stay —you tell Charles. He seems relieved.

Charles sees what you meant with "not much" - just a small table with no chairs, one kitchen counter stool, a mattress in the bedroom, another on the living room floor, and some boxes, making the place look way bigger - as you two enter your apartment.

—I just got the keys —you excuse yourself.

—Oh wow, this view reminds me of my grandparents' apartment view from growing up —He reaches the balcony fast. —Oh, look, you can see the old side of Monaco from here! Good memories! —He ignores your comment, not caring much about the furniture or decor.

He seems in a better mood than before.

—Well, let me know if you need anything. Sleep well! —you say, on your way to your bedroom.

—Thank you, good night!

You hear noises outside your bedroom's open doors a few minutes later. Charles moves his mattress nearer the plug on the wall and connects the charger you lent him to his phone. With that change in the arrangement, you are both placed facing each other in different rooms and with distance in between.

Since none of you seemed able to fall asleep that night, you better keep chatting, each of you resting your back against the wall, relaxing, and him crossing his arms behind his head.

—So you are besties with Sam?

—Yes, she was one of the first people I met when I arrived in Belgium —you answer and look out of your bedroom's massive floor-to-ceiling window to the beautiful sea and the tiny-looking lights of Monaco. He stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

—So, how was growing up here? —You ask him and were sincerely curious but also want to switch the subject of conversation from you to him.

He tells many anecdotes of his childhood and buzz about some of the high society Monegasque families. He seems to enjoy gossip, and you are here for it.

Until you feel your eyes shutting down and fall asleep with the sound of his voice.

-

Two weeks later, Charles was still staying at your place; there was no furniture yet, however. By the third week, you arrive home, and all of Charles' things are filling the space. He moved "his bed" to one of the guest bedrooms and packed the living room with boxes. His piano starts serving you two at your dining "table." You always ate there, sitting, standing, taking turns: breakfast, Charles, lunch, you, etc.

He is just one box away from officially becoming your roommate. Of course, you don't mind. After many years of feeling alone, you desperately needed a friend and its company.

Charles' wireless speaker is the most significant addition to the apartment; it was never turned off, both of you being obsessive music maniacs, constantly introducing new music and artists to each other.

It is your turn to pick a song, and you want to lift the spirits while unpacking boxes and arranging things, so you turn the volume all up and hit play. Bad Bunny's "Yo perreo sola" started blasting.

You start singing and dancing to the beat, shaking it, and then Charles joins you in the chorus, singing the lyrics perfectly and throwing some great dance moves. You two start twerking.

—You know this song? Wait, you speak Spanish?! —you ask loudly, almost screaming. The music is so loud.

—My mom is Colombian. Didn't I mention that? My dad is the Monegasque one. I know my reggaeton and merengues by heart —he screams back. —I know all the good clubs in the city with this type of music, we should go and dance our asses off.

—Oh, for sure we are!

Another level of friendship is unlocked.

-

The three of you are inseparable. It is the weekend, and Charles took you and Sam on his boat sailing to an excellent spot to take a swim. Coronas, good music, sun, and fresh water fill your day.

You came up with a competition to see who jumped out of the boat the funniest way because you three were dumb. Charles wins by jumping and agitating his arms and legs like an old cartoon falling or very Gaga at the Super Bowl. Your stomach hurts from laughing, and your face from smiling.

After that, you all lay flat on your stomachs like iguanas under the sun, getting tan atop the boat; you don't remember a day nearby when you felt so happy. You felt at home with those two by your side.

-

It was around 4 a.m. and pitch black when Charles was suddenly awakened by sorrowful sounds coming from your bedroom.

He rushes and quickly opens the door, not caring to knock. He finds you crying, curled in your bed; you look like a total mess with red eyes, messy hair, and softly shaking, and Charles reacts like a headless chicken, pacing frantically around the room before getting to his senses and starting supporting a very troubled you.

—I got an idea that could help you feel better! —he tells you.

—Yeah?

—You trust me?

You nod.

—Let's go! —he offers you his hand and leads you out.

You take the lift to the basement parking lot, where Charles' Ferrari is all poorly and crocked parked outside lines of your apartment's parking spaces - that man was a great driver but terrible at parking - next to it is his powerful Ducati Panigale black motorbike is waiting for you.

Soon, you two are on his bike, crossing the streets of Monaco at full speed. Getting further away from the city and into the road. You tightly wrap your arms around him as he tells you you are entering the highway, and he begins to speed, pushing the bike's engine.

You could feel the fresh nightly ocean breeze hitting your body and entering your pores, every time more violently as you moved and Charles kept speeding up. You could see the full moon reflecting on the ocean waters. It was a clear night, with no stars in sight.

You love the rush and adrenaline of this speed ride. Charles speeds even more, and you hear the violent roar of the motor, the bike reaching its maximum. Then, in that brief moment, you get why all drivers are passionate about F1. Now you get it. Your sad tears become happy ones. You have never experienced something like this before, and it makes you feel so alive. The air feels so cold and harsh at the speed you are going that you almost feel it cutting your skin. It is a sensational feeling.

Charles then starts to slow down till he parks the bike and turns the engine off, helping you get on your feet, and you two lay on the grass after arriving at the destination.

—What a view! —you let out. The two of you are far away from the city, and you can see Monaco at the distance from the cliff you are on top of.

—This is my secret spot. I have been coming here since I was young when I felt I needed to clear my mind or wanted to escape everything. This view humbles you and calms you down at the same time —Charles confesses.

—Thanks for sharing it with me —you say to him, extremely grateful.

—It's the least I can do.

You can hear the waves hitting the cliff rock below you, and you admire the infinite ocean in front of you. The two of you sat there for a long time.

—Whenever you feel ready to talk about it. To open up about your past, who you are, or why you cried tonight, I will be here to listen —Charles offers you, breaking the comfortable silence. He is a kind and sweet person, a good person. And you aren't used to that.

He places his hand on top of yours just briefly, and you feel so happy to have a friend, to have him, no love feelings, no desire in between, just genuine friendship and honest support. 

He deserves the truth, and you want to let him know, but you are afraid of the repercussions. You don't want to get judged or, worse, to lose him.

-

Charles has been paying attention to you these past weeks and has noticed how you avoid or change subjects whenever your past or private life gets mentioned.

Every day that passes, he gets to know you more. It is just a matter of time before the truth comes out.

To be continued... < Previous chapter | Masterlist | Next chapter >

[hwaightme]

Bang bang

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR STAR'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

⚫ pairing: gangster/mafia!seonghwa x stripper/afab!reader ⚫ genre: smut, mafia!au, noir, ganster film style, bits of angst ⚫ summary: Bang bang, he shot me down / Bang bang, I hit the ground / Bang bang, that awful sound / Bang bang, my baby shot me down... the words never sounded truer as you hunt for the man who made you fall from grace. ⚫ wordcount: 14.6k ⚫ warnings/tags: barely edited (written in a chaotic flurry), gangsters, murder, guns, blood, attacking, language, strip club, slight objectification, rudeness, bickering and arguing, emotional manipulation, revenge, death [of a side oc], yandere themes, obsessive behaviour, alcohol, money, seonghwa driving expensive cars, betrayal mention... lmk if anything else. ⚫ perma-taglist: @legohwas @doom-fics @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @hoshischeekss @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 ⚫ a/n: HAPPY SEONGHWA DAY!!!! May our brightest star be blessed with everything and more <3 (and never venture into what this fic contains lol); much love and appreciation to nora for going unchained over mafia hwa, and for supporting me through the blackout that was the writing process for this fic. Much love, all reblogs, comments, thoughts welcome~

⚫ nsfw tags: hate sex, car sex, fingering (receiving), sub-leaning reader but a hardcore brat, dom-leaning seonghwa but he enjoys the degradation, degradation (whore, slut, cock slut...), pet names and praises (doll, precious angel, darling, baby, sweetheart), a bit of impact play (slapping), orgasm denial, doggy style, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), blowjob, deepthroating, hair tugging/yanking, manhandling, grinding, spit play, come in mouth/swallowing... whew

⚫ playlist: bang bang (from kill bill) by geek music, showed me (how i fell in love with you) by madison beer, you put a spell on me by austin giorgio, i've got to see you again by norah jones, who do you want by ex habit, woman by emmit fenn, bad drugs by king kavalier, often by the weeknd, chills (dark version) by mickey valen

Bang bang… he shot me down…

You had given up on seeing him again. Searching for him, hellbent on getting the last word. You had been confident that finally, after all this time, your tortured soul could get some rest. That was until your eyes locked with his in a silent duel, that shit-eating grin on his face growing wider as he studied the wounds he had left behind. The invisible scars that were the start of your metamorphosis.

It was not that you had never imagined meeting the fiendish man again – in fact, you swore that it was your only relief: to fantasise about what you would do if you were to physically cross paths somewhere in this forlorn city, and many nights you would wake up in cold sweat after hearing the intoxicating low-toned laughter resonate in your skull. He haunted you and you knew that he was watching your every move like a sadistic predator. As such, the only thing that had driven you out of your madness, the flimsy umbrella that you clung onto amidst your fall from the life you had built and hoped to have, was to wish that one day, you could do the same. And seeing him right there, in front of you, in his tailored suit and jewellery bathed in blood as the spotlights made him look like the devil himself, the notion of hoping returned.

When a strobe light flashed across his faced you saw him lean and whisper something into the ear of one of his goons, evidently excited to having spotted you. After the ever so slightly shorter, but impressively built, undoubtedly a dark-souled man armed to the teeth, surely his bodyguard, nodded a couple of times, and in turn called over one of the waiters to continue the chain only for the latter to shrink and rush off into the backrooms, your nightmare ambled towards the bar. With a quick unbuttoning of his suit jacket, he settled in one of the stools and spun around to face the stage. To face you. Subject you to a mocking scrutiny while you had no choice but to continue dancing.

As he mindlessly took a black card out of his pocket and passed it to the bartender, without sparing a glance behind him, the object pinched between his pointer and middle fingers, you were in your lonesome on the stage, fighting an uphill battle for every coin and paper bill. Spinning in circles like an animal trapped in a cage, clinging to the pole as though it was a thread connecting you to existence itself, even though experience had shown you that in this, you were skilled only in going down. That man who made living seem easy, despite, or perhaps thanks to the darkness from which he was undoubtedly spawned. Your first love, your first heartbreak, your first glimpse into how the world could chew you up and spit you out – life that was a forbidden fruit so beautiful, so tantalising to where through atrocious flavour and agony one would bite through to the rotten centre and willingly lose their senses to keep a piece to themselves.

His eyes tirelessly accompanied your every move as you went through your routine. Grinding against the pole, crawling across the stage as onlookers and perverts – those who you had to call revered guests because they could spend, and spend a lot, ogled you and yelled heinous remarks, you had not felt so humiliated in a long time. The transition to your present career had been a follow up to a series of events that had shut all other doors – you considered yourself lucky that you had even had the chance to catch yourself on these professional branches during your painful descent. And you had to admit, it did pay well. In a couple of months, after you had definitely breached all work hour regulations, you had managed to pay off your fines and numb yourself to your revoked medical licence. Things were looking up, like the heels you wore. Not quite sky-high, but nevertheless, not in the sewers. But now that being sat at the bar, devouring you with his smouldering gaze and using you for cheap amusement, made you feel filthy. With his pristine, clean, supreme ‘I am above you all’ aura, he might as well state that he owned you. Maybe, in a way, he did. Since his ‘company’, or as one would say ‘bunch of organised hoodlums in suits’ behind closed doors, owned this club among many others dotted around the metropolis.

You climbed up, approaching the finale of your performance. Soon you would be able to leave that creature’s gaze and hide in the rank bathrooms until the coast was clear. Even if that meant you had to abandon the bills. Or no, no you would have the time. You had rent to pay, what were you thinking? And you still needed to return the money you borrowed for the funeral, despite you being told that your now ex could be left to rot just fine. The act was more for you anyways – you wanted to prove to yourself that you still knew honour and tradition, regardless of how far you had been swept up by the unforgiving currents of the underworld. So now, to pay for your illusion of honour, you put on a show and flaunted what you had, fuelled by an undercurrent of indescribable disgust.

To the numbing bassline and an addictive beat you went higher and higher, letting the sensuality envelop you once more. If the months that stacked themselves like cash had taught you anything, this passage of time that you had spent nomadic, performing in one club, another, until you ended up in the one where you were now centre stage, it was that professionalism came first. You were surprised to find out just how many of your academic and practical skills had actually been put to good use – well, maybe not things like knowing components of the limbic system but having a steady hand and being able to manoeuvre out of uncomfortable situations in a cool and calculated manner certainly did their wonders. As you performed a high kick hold, and let your toes discreetly push off the ground for more momentum, you were already thinking a couple of steps ahead. The fairy, the floaters transition, you mentally listed and promptly ticked off the items, going from one move to another. It was nothing more than an elaborate ploy to convince those ogling you, some even unceremoniously palming themselves through their trousers, to give you their ‘hard earned cash’. Though, you never wanted to know where exactly that cash came from. It was not your problem, and you were quick enough to realise that it was better to keep your mouth shut and ask less questions. What these men wanted to see was a pretty doll spinning on a pole as if just for them, a fantasy just a couple of steps away from them. Not some amateur interrogator. 

His figure burned into your retinas as you amplified your dramatics, and stole the night for yourself with flair, flipping yourself upside down, only to recover and descend into your final pose. Due to the sweat and the light body highlighter that you had applied to make your features pop, you were an impossibly entrancing vision. A deity of the underworld that just so happened to find it entertaining to grace the local scum with her presence. 

The handsome black-haired man, an enticing, lethal ‘bella donna’ flower continued watching the forbidden apple of his eye. He had finally gotten you within his reach after so many months of playing cat and mouse. You were unbelievably easy to track, never having attempted to hide yourself, but for him to restrain himself for so long and not hunt you down at first opportunity was borderline torturous. Park Seonghwa was never one to wait. If he wanted something, or someone, he got it instantly, handed to him on a platinum platter. But your hatred was like an addictive scent that brought him to an unprecedented high. Each time he had news delivered of you discreetly asking after him at a club, or you trying to frequent an area where he had been spotted, evidently on a mission to do exactly what he was doing to you, it brought Seonghwa an excitement that shook him to the core.

But now that you were here, in his lair, his first club that he had opened, still a junior in the business at the time and coincidentally, still having been in what could be called a relationship with you, he could not resist. His mind had been screaming Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, every hour of the day, and his primal desires grew stronger than ever before. As he inspected the way in which you bent down to take bills from eager hands, coy and purposefully demure so as to attract even more tips, sinful musings clouded him. He could not ignore the curve of your back as you tapped another fowl man’s chin and took what was definitely over his budget right out of his beggarly hands. Seonghwa was tense as he focused on the white dancewear that adorned your body, elegant lace providing a dizzying contrast to the lewd scene as you let another imp paw at your ass as he hooked the waistband of your thong to leave more crisp notes.

The act of a sensational seductress, you practically glided off the stage, the platform heels doing little to diminish your resolve. You were even better than what he could have ever imagined from the stories that his closest allies and bodyguards had relayed to him. And while, San, the man who he had entrusted with observing you particularly closely once news had gotten around that you joined Club Estelle, had expressed your resounding success and renowned desirability on a number of occasions, now that Seonghwa had seen it he was nothing but proud. His masterpiece, his project, his precious little cherub was doing so well. All for him. How could he not grace you with his presence after seeing such a show?

You knew there was no way of escaping the monster, even if you had the ability to turn invisible, so you were not too surprised when you had found the man who had been next to him for the duration of the performance standing in front of you. What you were taken aback by, was how in just a flash, the man’s intimidating aura dissipated to reveal a charming, heart melting smile and twinkling eyes.

“Miss L/N Y/N?” voice equally as sweet, he inquired. Though you had no doubt that his was just airs preceding the request for you to accompany him to his boss.

“Yes. And you are?” remaining amiable, albeit distant, you responded, crossing your arms in a subconsciously protective manner.

“Merely delivering the request for your audience with my chief.”

You motioned for him to accompany you to the back, signalling that you needed to store the cash before any further discussions were made. The sweetheart obliged, and let you take the lead. In your peripherals, you spotted Seonghwa gripping his drink a little too tightly to be indifferent. As questionably possessive as ever, it seemed. Once you and the muscular bodyguard who you discovered was wearing a double holder were behind the curtain that served as a door to a dark corridor, you continued the conversation.

“A request or an order?” 

Absent-mindedly, you checked the quantity of the bills which you had collected - the rest were already waiting for you in the room, courtesy of the waitstaff whom you had actually managed to make something of a deal with: you did not tell anyone about their habit of permanently borrowing beverages from the bar, and they did small errands for you. Maybe this man with cat-like features was in a similar agreement with Seonghwa, though the likelihood of there being blood involved was too high.

“A request that I would definitely advise you to follow.” he insisted, holding open the door to the changing room as you inspected the bucket that had been left for you in the corner, with neatly collected, crisp notes. Your favourite sight as of late.

“If you answer my question.” you threw out while organising the money inside of a sports bag - the storage of your professional life. Once you were done, you shoved the item into your personal locker, sealing it shut and spinning around to face the man again as he beckoned you.

“Kindly, follow me, Miss.”

“Who am I following?” you repeated, desperately curious to know of this man’s identity. Nevertheless, your feet carried you forward, and you yielded to his summons, heading back out into the club.

“Mister Park Seonghwa’s man.”

“Ooh, his man…”

“Right hand man.” he elaborated, making you roll your eyes.

“So no name to pair with such a handsome face?”

The answers were almost automatic. It was not foreign to you to flirt with strangers, since that way you amplified your chances of financial success, but never before did you catch yourself being so passive, even when the intonations were well practised and near identical to what you would normally say. But there was no one, nor nothing, to blame except the hardwired response to the nearing figure of a very specific gangster, on whom your gaze immediately settled as soon as you reached the edge of the prolonged bar counter.

“I believe that Mister Park would not enjoy hearing such words from you.” of course he would not. When did he ever enjoy you complimenting anyone else except him? San steeled himself as he lowered his head, while you let the fingers of your right hand flitter over the counter as you sauntered over to the man who could not even be bothered to approach you himself, despite having evaporated from your life for an unbearable collection of months.

“Then he would not have sent you to fetch me. He should know that I appreciate beauty-” you were testing your luck, uttering the words when within the gangster’s earshot. Thankfully for San, he chose to take the matter into his own hands and, setting aside the glass of cognac with a delicate push, addressed his bodyguard.

“Sannie, is Y/N giving you a tough time?”

Your name sounded precious, meaningful when he said it. Like it had a genuine purpose in this mortal realm. A melodic uttering of simple sounds that drowned out the pulsing beat that zombified the visitors of Club Estelle. Whether that music was on or not made no difference to you - either way, you would only hear Seonghwa. His voice was like a rumbling of an oncoming thunderstorm amidst a nighttime quiet. The rolling growls of heaven’s rage as steel grey clouds stalked across the sky, wrapping the defenceless earth in a catastrophic promise. With nothing but a foggy trepidation in your chest, you slid onto the seat that was to your nightmare’s right, turning to have your back to the bar and rest your elbows behind you on the elevated table. 

“Uh, not at all, sir.” San’s shift in mien was comical. In a flash, he had stepped down from the pedestal of a man who made the demands, to a servant who you struggled to imagine acting a step out of the lines that his boss had drawn out for him. You raised an eyebrow, giving the guard a onceover.

“Sannie?”

“Yes, darling. San. Like a mountain. Isn’t it cute?” Seonghwa interjected again, not letting the man who you were addressing as much as regard you. Apparently, being under his command also meant that you were instantly off limits. How dull.

“Interesting word choice…”

“He is a cutie, though, aren’t you, Sannie?” smirk gracing his lips, Seonghwa teased the cutie, who, judging by the sheer broadness of his shoulders, could probably snap a person in half with his bare hands. Not that the person would complain since the last thing they would see would be that pretty face… but that was besides the point. No one in the mafia was soft and fluffy. And if there had ever been, they had not survived long enough to establish themselves as the sole representative in history. 

“No comment.” 

“See? How fucking adorable,” with an icy tone, Seonghwa concluded. “Now, could you give us some time to speak tête-à-tête?”

“Of course.”

As rapidly as his appearance had been, so was his departure into the lingering crowd. A newbie - even more new to the business than you, was beginning her performance, and had caught the attention of a couple of the regular patrons, and the lewd chatter had picked up considerably. It was apparent, however, that it was not enough to capture the interest of the man in front of you, who shifted his seating to face in your direction, and officially broke open the door into your life once again. Not because you had been tirelessly searching for him. But because he found it beneficial for himself to make himself known to you.

“Greetings and salutations, Y/N, it’s been a while. We have much to catch up on, don’t you think?” you blinked slowly, suppressing a rude scoff. People were still watching you, that much you were aware of. Those were the perks, or the faults with wearing stripper dancewear. You were the fixation of lustful eyes, the cool glass of water that was just out of reach for the hoards of parched scum.

“I have nothing to say to you, Seonghwa.”

“Ah how I missed you saying my name.”

“And I’d rather you keep mine out of your mouth.” a total lie, had you considered your instincts and how your legs had instinctively tilted closer to the brunette, but you were not about to throw away months of fantasising the man’s demise at the first interaction. You had at least some restraint left.

“Only if you can silence me. I know a couple of ways.” he winked, but you pretended not to catch it as you stared down at his hand that was lying on the counter, studying the ornate decal on the fingerless leather glove.

Taking notice of your preoccupation, he tapped his fingers on the surface, making the silver studs that ran down each digit and surrounded the opening on the back of the hand shine in the glimmering lights. You counted the holes that revealed his knuckles, for no reason other than to try shifting focus. You were not opposed to this kind of interaction. Gestures. Hints. Symbols. It was a horrifying craving that started in the abyss that Seonghwa had left in your tarnished soul, an affliction caused and amplified even by the most mundane details. You could feel those same fingers wrapping themselves around your neck, tracing your jawline, making a ghostly descent down your body. A shiver ran down your spine as you tore yourself away from the sight that had turned into a sinful recollection, forcing out a jarring taunt to convince yourself that there were no undertones to Seonghwa’s phrase.

“With a gun?”

He was not buying it. His precious flower, barely dressed and yet graceful to the extent of rivalling divinity, squirming from his mere presence. This was what he had been searching for, all this time that he had denied you contact. You had been a bad girl. Running, thinking you were pure and angelic. He did not want you that way, so he took his time winding you up, making your world collapse so that you would be ready to take the real him. Not the foolish goon that he had been before. You had been so sweet, doting on him and showing him off to your friends. But what he yearned for was the animalistic antagonisation of his very being. The fire in your heart that drove you to a vengeful insanity. Seonghwa’s tongue pushed at the corner of his mouth before running over his bottom lip, disappearing to give way to a smug grin as he noticed your eyes dart to the action. He comprehended your capabilities properly. More than any of those quacks who you had looked up to ever could. Your demons were loud, and yet you had gone to great lengths to suppress them, even when you were the most beautiful like this. The mortal embodiment of Discordia. Truly, the one deity he would worship. The only one who he would continue sacrificing for.

“Ah, that reminds me. Heard about your boyfriend, such a shame really. He was so young…” he pondered out loud, not a single bit apologetic.

“That’s rich coming from the man who put a bullet between his eyes.” you hissed, crossing your arms as a man walked past and openly gawked at your breasts. 

Though that quickly resulted in a not so subtle threat, with Seonghwa leaning back to adjust his jacket, only to reveal the grip of a menacing handgun, tucked away into a leather holster. The visitor, who had purposely slowed his pace, bolted from the spot, giving the gangster one final look before rushing to the other side of the club. As if looking for your praise, or approval, Seonghwa hid the gun from sight once again and gazed at you, softer and more affectionate than before, his eyes transforming to take on more of a doe shape and inducing an uncomfortable pain. When you did not satisfy him, he clicked his tongue and ran his hands over his hair, shorter at the sides and revealing a buzzcut design that had begun to fade with growth. The new style suited him, you decided. Almost too well. It was frustrating.

“Ah, ah, no. Not me. My hands are clean, sweetheart.” he raised them, a hilarious attempt at trying to prove his innocence which you chose to ignore. No matter how obsessively he washed his acts away, blood was more than a rusty red liquid. It was a curse that stained the skin of those who wished to draw it with an eternal permanence, passing from generation to generation until the Earth was saturated with the hue. Ignoring the blatant bullshit, you mused the fate of the man who you had used to fill the void.

“What the fuck did he even do to you guys?”

“Oh you know how it is. Got a taste of success, got a little too greedy… and kaput. Didn’t keep a clean inventory and clean percentages, you see. And I don’t like when things aren’t clean.” you did not have to be brought into the matter any further than that. You certainly did not need to be let in on the fact that your ex was actually one of the best dealers in his district. He was just a little too close to you for Seonghwa’s comfort.

“Sure you don’t. You said the word, what, four times already? That’s why you even launder your money…” you muttered, not noticing how Seonghwa’s elbow slid closer to you until his hand began to play with a lock of your hair.

“Ah, so attentive, counting what I say…” twirling it around his finger, he observed how the myriad of colour from the club’s lights managed to change its shine, and let it fall back into an alluring cascade, “... and not only that, we also do pest control. The last thing we need is lowly vermin poisoning our supply chains and ruining user experience for our end clients, right?”

“I still don’t-”

“Funny how you got involved with him. Of all people. A drug dealer.” it was easy to make you shift focus. One mention of your failed career, and you were gone. So, in a dire situation such as this, Seonghwa would be a fool not to use this fact.

“Guess he was the only one there to actually support me in the shitstorm. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Now, now, no need to thank me, darling, when I did nothing-”

“I was blacklisted, Seonghwa. Do you know what that means?” slamming the counter with your hand, you stood up off the stool and glowered. Oh, how adorable it was when you got so riled up. A darkness flashed across his eyes as he imagined you to be a tiny predator, ready to pounce. How endearing.

“I can try to guess, though something tells me you will provide more details.” he egged you on, enthralled by how you tried to hover over him, but still retained his favourite fragility.

“It means my dreams have gone up a rat’s ass. I wanted to be a nurse, Seonghwa. And yet, as soon as I get to work, the next day after helping you and your stupid goons, I get kicked out and sued.” The only downside that he could see was that he would not be able to have his way with you were all professional and in a dainty nurse’s outfit. Though… he would have had to make some adjustments to the scrubs for that. A few rips here and there would not hurt anybody.

“It really was only basic supplies that you permanently borrowed, and for the greater good at that. I still think the hospital over-exaggerated.” you had been more than benevolent. Overlooking status, background and appearance you had dashed to lend a hand. Seonghwa had counted on you to do that so that he could drag you down closer to himself.

“In the eyes of the law, I am a thief who has gotten away with far too light a punishment.”

“And I see a saviour.” a merciful fucktoy who he had initially simply been playing around with, only to discover that you were so pathetically trusting that he could not help but fall in love.

“Poetic.” you responded sarcastically, raising your eyebrows. Seonghwa was bearing witness to the dissolution of your resistance. As much as you wished you could keep the game up, his charming falsities and unforgivable seduction were a delight that you could not withstand. 

“You know one of those ‘stupid goons’ celebrated his wedding anniversary with his wife two months ago? And then the other sent his daughter to primary school not long ago… Like I said, you made a sacrifice that those bureaucratic little shits, hidden away in offices, would never make. You care for people.”

His hands snaked to your hips, and he pulled you closer to him until you were trapped with his legs on either side of you. Even though physically you were the one looking down, every passing second you felt more and more like a lab experiment or a sample under a microscope. He was dissecting you, tearing you apart and rebuilding you once again so that you would be just right. Just for him. His favourite doll.

“Seems I care for the wrong people.” you alluded to the man in front of you, a shallow, staggered breath escaping you as he gripped a little tighter.

“Do you regret it?” his eyes. Two dark pools which housed your tailored terror, but had to be so lovable. The devil always took on the most beautiful form.

Your silence told him everything he needed to hear. You could have pushed him away, slapped him across the cheek. Hell, you could have told San to get lost - though in that case you would have probably been disposed of and continued your existence as an addition to a faraway landfill. But that was besides the point. Because you were not indifferent. And the boundary between love and hatred was nearly invisible.

“So happy to have you here. At last.” just as he was about to bring you into an embrace, drunk from the elation of your first meeting in what had to have been an eternity, you pressed down on his shoulders, narrowly avoiding the stark white collar of his shirt that was laid over his jacket, and pushed away, hostility written over your features.

“That’s why I bet you are proud of having sold me out.”

“Who said that?” confused, Seonghwa inquired.

“I just know it.”

“And I am asking, who told you that I sold you out?” stuck in what could only be equated to a tug of war, the two of you were challenging each other to ‘try their worst’.

“My e-”

“The druggie. Right. Of course he did. I bet he told you a lot of things.”

“Like how you used me…”

“Uh-huh,” his hands glided up your body until he stood up, and your arms were limp at your sides once more.

“Corrupted me…”

“My love, you’re still an angel,” he cupped your chin and gazed deep into your eyes, noting that it was as if you were reciting something that you had practised time and time again in front of a mirror until it made no more sense to you than white noise.

“Then betrayed me…”

“Something I would not do under any circumstance. You know what family honour is.” Seonghwa did not betray. He acted in ways that benefited him. And if it just so happened to leave others hurt, it was their fault for caring so much.

“Family. What the hell do you know about family?” you were seething. He was burning you. Again, and again, and again. And you were readily giving in every single time.

“Certainly more than you. Oh sweetheart, I know how lonely you have been-” he wanted to comfort you, even if that made him nauseous, but thankfully, you were not in the mood and stepped away, making him let go of you.

“Don’t touch me.”

“I only want to-”

“I said. Don’t. Seonghwa. Look. I- I hate you. Okay?” music to his ears. How you desperately tried to get away from him and from your own feelings. Scared little pet.

“Are you trying to convince yourself?” the phrase echoed within you as you took another step backwards, realising too late that you had let him wrap himself around you like a hungry python. You needed out. This was it. Final. You needed some air. Or better, to return home, climb into bed, and pretend this never happened. Future you could handle this problem, present you was irrational, risk-seeking and a harm to the self.

“N-no. I. I need to go.”

“You know you can’t.” Seonghwa whispered out loud as he watched your determined departure, right up until you were behind that heavy velvet curtain. 

He picked up his glass and studied the clear, russet contents, and let the liquid slosh around to take in the aroma. With a quick sip, he was back to his usual self, and the smile that was on his face was instantly erased. Bored, the dangerous man leaned against the counter with the weight of his body, imitating your earlier posture and commanded:

“San, I know you’re lurking, come here.” Indeed, in a matter of seconds, his bodyguard appeared from behind one of the pillars that was located closer to the kitchen.

“Yes, sir?”

“You see that man over there?” raising his glass, Seonghwa pointed in the direction of one of the very dedicated hounds who was by the stage. He had been particularly involved in your act, and from the moment Seonghwa had first noticed him, to the very last moment that you were up there, the tipsy man had probably dropped at least a couple thousand dollars’ worth of cash. He was the perfect candidate for the gangster’s plan.

“The one in the green hoodie?”

“Yes, that sleazy bastard. How about we cast him as the bad guy, huh? Payment upfront.” San nodded. The method was simple, and had shown tremendous success in the past. He hummed in agreement, waiting for Seonghwa to add his usual:

“Temporarily, of course. All in good fun.”

“Understood. What should I lay over?”

“That a certain Y/N is particularly ravishing after her performances, and will be at the back exit in about twenty minutes.”

Bang bang, I hit the ground…

Maybe what that gangster had said was true, and that you were too good for the ‘overworld’. It was an attractive thought. Perhaps after the doors to the medical field and consequently a wide range of other careers you had considered had been shut, due to your newfound, albeit light, but nevertheless a serious enough criminal record, you ended up simply tapping into your true nature as a creature of the underworld. While out there, you had always been average, here you were a saviour. A goddess. A queen. Maybe you indeed were celebrated and had gifts thrown at your feet exactly because you deserved nothing less. The chasm that was the dark side of the corrupt city might be your true home, and you had simply been in denial, running away from it. 

How easy it was to fall back into your patterns. As you sank into Seonghwa’s eyes, you recollected your time with him. The attentiveness that he had shown you. The way in which he would patiently listen to you explain obscure medical terminology, convincing you that, to him and him alone, it was interesting. You had felt blessed then. And that was exactly why you wanted to erase him. As you strutted down the corridor that ran behind the main hall of the club, leading you to the back rooms that were for staff and artists only, you shook your head. Wishful that this would help you get rid of the reminiscing of the last ‘easy’ time of your life. Before you revealed to yourself that you would commit a crime in the name of love. Even when that love was merely an illusion. Confused by your own feelings, still seeing a glowing red target over Seonghwa’s evil heart while making out golden glimmers on its surface, you stormed into the changing room and let out a sigh of relief as you saw it completely empty. You could meditate on your frightening conversation with the devil himself.

There was something therapeutic about the wind down from your performances, if you were to forget about the side eyes you were being thrown after having been caught talking to the owner of the establishment, and according to some of the whispers, a very desired man. How they could overlook the fact that he was more cold blooded than a snake when it came to satisfying their need for a happy and tranquil life amazed you. With the thumping of the music feeling so far away that you were practically enveloped in a sea of cotton, and the lights emitting a more familiar fluorescence, like a late night grocery store rather than the strobes, sickly colour selections and kaleidoscopic reflections, the changing room was a sort of safe space. You were trying to stuff the bills that you had collected, and the chunky stripper heels into a nondescript sports bag, after having covered yourself up with something more appropriate for a ‘so late it could be considered early’ trek back home.

You needed time to yourself before you were going to black out and make some foolish decisions concerning that conniving man. It was a curse, without a doubt. Not dissimilar to the very drugs you had smuggled, he was hard to quit. And you hated him for it. At least this was what you had been openly declaring, and were not going to give up on. If anything, this was your new habit. Imagining revenge on Park Seonghwa. You were going to get it. Eventually. You still had some hope left in you, even though your feet were currently struggling to hold you up, even in your sneakers, a hint of a fire in your chest as your memories of the man were refreshed. Did he have to look more handsome than before? More refined? More demonic?

When you had met him during a night out with your friends at a bar in the classier side of town, Seonghwa had introduced himself as an ‘intern’, which you now understood as one of the lower ranking goons who did the dirty work. Now, he was all white shirt and spotless sleeves, smooth skin and perfectly manicured hands, only a breath away from being a model rather than a hardened and ruthless criminal. Perhaps it was this contrast that had resulted in the man having cemented the nickname ‘Mars’ for himself, as you had found out from a few tipsy insiders who would do anything for a private show. The god of war, destruction, bloodshed, all in the name of an interpretation of peace and prosperity. The dangerous balance on the tip of a razor, by which you had undoubtedly been slaughtered.

He was a mastermind, a monstrosity in a beautiful guise as he ran, alongside the uppermost echelons of the mafia that effectively had the city, and at this point you would not put it beyond them - the country in a chokehold, the numerous operations that kept the underworld’s heart pumping. An inky fluid, viscous and bitter, one which you had accepted in a pretty glass of so-called love without thinking twice. Seonghwa knew how to make you happy. And the longer that went on, the more of a problem that became. He knew just how to spin thread out of you, how to wrap you again, and again around his finger until you were nothing more than one of the rings that he would occasionally wear to complete his outfits. And in such a hypnotised state, you thought you were doing the right thing when you broke into the place that was housing your professional dreams, and crept to retrieve some of the most sought after medication. Just for him. Oh how he thanked you then. How he had professed his love to you and praised you. You had been on cloud nine. Until you found out that someone had anonymously filed a report against you, provided all evidence, somehow all in the same night, and by the next midday you had already been summoned to court.

The day when you had stepped out of the courthouse was imprinted in your mind. Having received a much kinder sentence than one you had expected - more financial and reputational damages than anything else, you had been upbeat enough to engage in smalltalk with the state-provided lawyer whose name you had forgotten in a few hours. At least you had been that way before you saw him across the street. Lower body hidden by a jet black, matte sports car, black suit, black shirt, black hair… the reaper himself having arrived to taunt you and laugh at the death of your career. A carefree smile had been replaced by a deep scowl as the gears clicked, the puzzle completed itself in your head. Seonghwa. It had to be Seonghwa. It took every fibre of your being to restrain yourself from committing another criminal offence and attack him, and instead watch him climb into his car as though you had been nothing but empty space to him, and speed off in the direction of uptown. A murder most fowl. Of your soul, of your heart. And what mind you had left, you had promised to dedicate to hunting him down.

You sighed as you heaved the emergency exit door open, having avoided the main back entrance out of fear that Seonghwa might be there, or anywhere inside Club Estelle. What did you mean by hunting him down? Now that he was there. Within slapping distance, if you were to put it in an unceremonious manner. What were you actually seeking? Was it your mind twisting your desire for him to simply make a return and instead of stalling on your destruction, simply go on ahead with it and shoot you down? You shook your head, pulling the hoodie that was covering your otherwise scandalous outfit tighter around you as the cool air enveloped you. It was almost peaceful. Almost quiet. Almost.

“Hey Y/N~ you put on suuuuch a goood show, baby girl… fucking fantastic… damn. Was told I could catch you here and damn, you are a goddess.”

You snapped in the direction of the sound, finding a man who was rocking side to side approaching you. Relatively tall, scruffy, with dirt-stained clothing hanging off, unfortunately, a more athletic-looking body. So striking him with one of the heels in your bag and running was out of the question. Besides, who knew how he would act if he saw the cash? You backed away having been met by the stench of what had to have been at least three shots of the strongest liquor in the house, and found yourself with your back pressed against a wall of the dimly lit alleyway between the club, and a line of dumpsters, with this very drunk problem whose perverted grin was inducing an uncontrollable trembling. The longer you stood in this state of a showdown, much like a wild west film, the more he was suffocating you with the overwhelming, acrid stench of sweat, cigarettes and whatever concoction his stomach had made out of the alcohol he had consumed.

“Can I get a… private show, huh? Swear’ve been good just for you baby girl.”

You suddenly felt so alone. Abandoned. Terrifying conclusions running through your head. There was not a single performer at the club who you were more than acquaintances with, and even then, would they help? The club bouncers rarely got involved since the majority of the customers were high-paying, and apparently the rule there was: if they had cash, they could behave like trash. Maybe a dead stripper to them was just the usual night. Who would you have called in the past? You hated to admit the name, the face that floated into your brain as soon as you asked yourself the question. But Seonghwa had a way with situations like this. He had stood up for you before, to the point where you had to kiss away his pain and treat his wounds - though that was nothing compared to the scarlet sight that he had painted in your honour. It was horrific, and yet, he had made you smile. It had probably been the grandest gesture of adoration that you had ever received. 

Still managing to keep some distance between you and the disgusting creature, your brain went into overdrive. You were backing away from him, but there was only so much time before he would pounce. As much as you wanted to just scream your heart out and pray some, well, a very specific, knight in shining armour would appear out of nowhere, you were a big girl and knew that the stories you indulged in reading were not true. In real life, and especially your own life, you had to be your own hero. It was your mission to remind yourself that Seonghwa was a villain. So you tried to project him onto your temporary enemy.

Although the action made bile rise in your throat, you peered into the drunk’s eyes, trying to read his actions. Not quite walking straight, he took another step towards you, supporting himself by pushing on the dumpster to his left, your right. You immediately mirrored it, your hand feeling for the wall to your right. A couple more steps and you would be right beside a trash pile that you had spotted when you first appeared in the alley way from the staff exit – the bastard sure was persistent and did not want to give up on you. You sneered – it could almost be his redeeming quality, compared to a certain someone else who liked to drive into the metropolis and then turn into an omniscient poltergeist.

“Come on, why are you being such a tease? Weren’t you having the time of your life earlier? So sexy, don’t you want to use that?”

He was making your skin crawl. You were trying your hardest to not interact with him more than necessary and stayed quiet. One wrong move and you were going to be in much deeper trouble than this. The sort where the best-case scenario you envisioned was showing up in the news, not so alive and in a ditch. The situation reminded you of a short story by Rudyard Kipling, Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, but instead of a face off between a mongoose and a king cobra, there was a young woman with a flurry of ruminations and a myriad of regrets. Though the latter was definitely swaying like a snake.

“Hey, baby girl, are you not going to come to daddy any time soon? I am getting impatient, baby, and you don’t want to piss me off.” He growled, his previously aimless blabber turning into a threat.

Your body was screaming for you to just make a run for it, but you knew better than that. This guy, unfortunately for you, was sporty enough and lanky enough to catch up to you in no time. On top of his build, you had the brilliant idea to wear new heels for your show today, which had cut into your flesh just enough to hurt, as if scolding you and repeating ‘I told you so’ and leaving your feet exhausted. As you stole a glance at the more comfortable pair of shoes for which you had settled, it was as though a lightbulb went off in your head. That was right. You did have manoeuvrability. You just needed to get one hit. 

You neared the exit of the alley, judging your proximity solely by the light emanating from a lonely street lamp right back on the main street. You steadied yourself as you saw the man open his mouth again and crouched further down to reach for an empty wine bottle that was lying on top of the pile you had been counting on. Keeping it hidden from the man, you stepped to the side, obscuring half of your body behind the large trash bin.

“What are you doing you bitch, huh? Answer me. I’ll give you one more chance.”

You remained silent, sliding your bag off your shoulder for better movement, pleading that it would not make a noise. The first glide down your upper arm was smooth enough, though your relief did not last long as it accelerated and came down to crash on some debris. That appeared to trigger new aggression in your opponent, as he practically snarled and lunged forwards, arms outstretched. You jumped backwards, only nearly missing a pipe protruding from one of the walls, and made contact with one of the walls, tripping the man as you did so. You were not thinking clearly, vision a blur, your surroundings spinning. You had only one mission now – survive. While the man was picking himself up, cursing and inspecting his painfully grazed hands, your eyes focused on the back of his head.

What if this was Seonghwa? What would you do? He had betrayed you, didn’t he? He had no right to be in your life again, regardless of your instincts. Regardless of how terrific he looked and how much he wanted you. An otherworldly rage overtook you as you imagined the devil in place of this sinner. In his designer suit, with his slicked back hair and chains that would glitter like stars even in the dim light. The set up made your body act on its own. You were fuelled by your anguish, and each sensation in the present turned into a re-enactment of your inner turmoil that had built up over the time. The guttural shriek, the stinging tears threatening to roll down your cheeks as you shut your eyes and swung with all your might only to meet-

-nothingness. A strong grip of your wrist and a firm chest pressed against your back prevented you from moving. And again, that familiar scent. Your drug. Your demise. The emergency exit door snapped itself shut, suggesting that Seonghwa had only now made it into the alleyway, and an odd sense of calm enveloped you. For the time being, he was the lesser of the many evils.

“Oh, ‘s you! Mar-”

The stinging sound of a gunshot, lulled into an ambient slumber with a silencer. Time slowed, and you swore you could see the bullet soaring through the air, about to collide with the skull of the man whose fate had been sealed. But a blink before you could bear witness to the impact, darkness overtook you, and you were embraced in an overwhelming sweetness, vision sealed with a resolved, mercilessly protective hand. You were spun in a macabre dance, now facing the gangster, breathing against the crook of his neck and focusing on the freezing cold jewellery that caressed your cheek. Nothing more than a sigh, a tainted soul escaping from the mouth of the drunkard, before you heard a thud of his body colliding with the cold concrete. 

You sincerely wished you could feel remorse, but all that you could identify in your body was an insatiable curiosity, and a perplexing connection of the societally horrific event with what had happened to your ex. So, that was how he had been disposed of, huh. The same damn signature. And he was most likely lying when he was trying to assure you that it was not the same man. His hand was too stable, heart was too calm, and the way in which he pressed his soft lips to your jaw, and once your sight was returned to you, your cheek, were all telltale signs that this was not the first time he had killed with you as his prime motivation.

“You’re awfully calm for someone who was ready to murder, darling.”

The words rang out in your head and the realisation hit you, cutting through the comforting fog that had settled over your psyche as you drifted in black irises. The bottle which you had picked out of the trash to serve as your weapon suddenly felt unimaginably heavy, and it began to slip.

“Now, now, we don’t need to cause any more of a mess…” gingerly, the bottle was taken from you, and clinked against the smoking gun as Seonghwa was more preoccupied with keeping your full attention on him. While you were still tame enough for him to manoeuvre, He returned the weapon under his jacket.

Dizzy, you swore you were within inches of delirium. Darting from one one part of his face to another, you soon spotted a tiny splatter of blood on his cheek, and lifted a trembling hand to caress it. Eyes wide, you watched as the crimson spread under your thumb and left a trail whilst you were wiping it away. Lips parted, you were locked in a soundless scream. This was not a joke. That man, no longer a man, a soon to be carcass, crow food, was dead. And without a doubt, Seonghwa was going to tell you that it was your doing. Turning slowly, you caught a glimpse of the aftermath, and the dark dots that now decorated Seonghwa’s side that had been the closest to the drunkard.

“Look at me, darling. Look at me.”

“But I, but he-”

“I said. Look at me.”

“But you kill-”

A crash resonated as Seonghwa threw the bottle against the opposite wall, the olive-coloured rainfall covering the dead body and rippling over the dumpsters. Knees buckling, you wanted to collapse next to it then and there, only to have a gloved hand force your face to be right against his.

“You are a lethal flower, darling. Shame this had to happen.”

“Shame?”

“You’re shaking. Did this man touch you?” with a concerned air, Seonghwa inquired, his breath hot against your skin. Discreetly, he began to step towards the exit of the alleyway.

“N-no… but-”

“Did he scare you?”

“Y-yes… a lot.”

“For fucks sake, these idiots have no self control, hurting my precious angel like this.”

Precious angel. You were his precious angel. So he did care, at least somewhat. You had a space, a chance to corrupt what was left of his heart. Your forehead was against his as you allowed him to guide you out of the cramped space, careful to sidestep when he told you, lifting one leg, the other when he whispered that you should do so. This felt right. He was back. He was here. He was ready to do anything for you. This was where you wanted him. While you were busy processing what had just unfolded and fading into your beloved manifestations, Seonghwa pulled you into an embrace and began to direct two of his men who had snuck in through the emergency exit and were awaiting instructions. After a couple of raises of the eyebrow, and one point towards the bag which you had abandoned, they began to tiptoe around the area, ready for a rapid spring cleaning.

Wherever he was taking you, you had no choice but to follow. Such was the rule. Even if you had other ideas and plans, now that Seonghwa was back, you had to fall into his rhythm, and figure out a new strategy that would not cause a dissonance. Your clouded mind was lulled by his low instruction. Slow down here, now heading out onto the street there… you were a puppet in his hold. You were… a criminal. Weren’t you? You froze just as the two of you approached a parked car, and judging by Seonghwa’s immediate instinct to reach into his pocket, you assumed it was his. No, you couldn’t. This was… you needed to go home. Conflicted, the hold you had on Seonghwa’s jacket loosened.

“Darling?”

“I… I need to go home.” his soft smile fell, replaced with a judgemental grimace. Retaining a fraction of decency, he refrained from shoving you against the vehicle, instead choosing to subject you to scrutiny.

“You are home.”

“Here?” you surveyed your surroundings, figuring out that you were outside Estelle, and luckily, there were no longer any stragglers who regularly tried to make it through into the venue past doors closing. The street was ghastly, located in one of the most dangerous parts of the metropolis housing anything from cheap alcohol and sex to designer drugs and assassins. Anything one could desire, they could find here. Was this really your home?

“Yes. With me.” Seonghwa was reeling you back. A click, and the car was unlocked. Keeping you within reach, he leaned to open the passenger door. You shook your head.

“No… no… I don’t want to be a-”

“Don’t want to be a what?” he insisted, and squeezed your upper arms, as if he was about to shake the answer out.

“A criminal.”

“The fuck?” 

“I am… look… I was… Again I was so ready to-” the man who was probably still in that alleyway, blood spilling like wine out of a glass that toppled over, occupied your vision, and you gawped at the bloodstain on Seonghwa’s cheek. 

“But you didn’t. You did not kill him.” Sighing, he stated as-a-matter-of-factly, not wishing to deal with a breakdown, far too attracted to you physically to care for what effect his expression of affection had.

“But I made you…”

“Oh baby, no you didn’t. I did it out of love for you. You had no part in this except being my angel. Darling, Y/N, come on…” picking his words carefully, he permeated your barriers, crawling into the expanse of your mind palace like a virus.

“I am no angel. The law literally says I committed crimes. I should not be here. I should never be here-”

Evidently this caring approach was not functional. You were simply melting into him and turning into a sappy mess, instead of the coldhearted bitch who he had spoken to in the club. Where were you? Where was the goddess who wanted nothing more but to hurt him? He had deconstructed you a little too much, it seemed, you needed a bit more venom in your system. Seonghwa snapped.

“You know what. You are right.”

“Huh?” still too dazed to answer properly, you hummed.

“Who do you think got you out of a jail sentence in the first place, huh?”

“I- I don’t… What?” eyes narrowing, Seonghwa peered into your soul. He needed you to wake up if he was going to give into his obsession.

“Talk to me. Take a guess. Do you really think that the judge was benevolent? Fuck… girl, you’re naive. That bastard passes his bank account around the courtroom, you really think he woke up one day and felt like being nice just because? Oh no… sweetheart. I got you out. You hear me? I did. Because like hell are you gonna be anybody else’s. Huh, you tried your best with that idiot rotting in the ground. Bet you screamed my name as he fucked you, right? Tell me, is that right? SPEAK, sweetheart, don’t piss me off.”

Noticing how you could not contain your tremors, he released his grip on your upper arms, only to position your hands so that they rested on his waist, while his cupped your face. What was supposed to be an intimate gesture felt like a stare down with a wild beast. His expression was that of a predator, pupils dilated so he could refresh the memories of every piece of you, while his lips curled into what you interpreted as a crooked, pitying smile.

If you did not know better, you would have believed that your love that was reflected in his dark orbs was actually his. But he was a twisted, terrifying man, who could only take. As such, most you could expect was his suffocating coddling, his treatment of you like you were of his design. His cooing as he peered at you and saw how you were putty under his touch. You hated him precisely because you knew you could never escape.

“Oh baby… my lovely little angel, look at you. Don’t you know that I would do anything to make you smile? Come on, you know that right?” he wiped a stray tear with his right hand, and you swore you caught a quiff of blood and gunpowder, blending with a hint of alcohol that was still on his breath from earlier, all to be washed away by that scent you always adored, vanilla, flowers, coffee. Seonghwa. You nodded, which seemed to provide relief for the man.

“And I will never let your pretty hands get dirty, okay? If you need somebody dead just say it my darling and I will do it. Me. You are my angel. And now, let me prove it to you, alright?”

Whatever noise had existed before was now but a soft buzz of a streetlamp. No rustling. Not a single droplet. Suspended in an intimate fog, you studied the criminal, the hardened killer, the bloodthirsty demon in front of you. The one who was so hellbent on getting you to follow him to the realm below, even though you had never left. It was simple. He led, you followed. He told you to jump, you jumped. That was all he wished for. And perhaps this was indeed your fate. Not to be rushing around in hospital corridors, nor to be collecting banknotes in a g-string. But to completely fall from grace for the embodiment of an apocalypse, who more than willingly closed the space between you to taste the lust you had been suppressing, relishing your shared sin.

Bang bang, that awful sound…

The wind styled your locks as Seonghwa sped deeper into the night, abandoning the artificial lighting of the underworld district. From bars and clubs, to sleepy neighbourhoods, and finally, the inspiring expanse of rolling hills and rocky slopes, he was taking you to a place where you would never be bothered nor controlled, yet one that gave you a view of the city that was so breathtaking, that it was easy to believe you could destroy it. Estelle would be smaller than ever, and your problems would be nothing more than a haze on the line of the horizon. The cliffside had been your spot when you were something of an item, with you always begging for Seonghwa to take you there, if not for the alone time, then at least for the striking skyline. How oddly romantic of him to pick the spot now.

Relaxing into the leather seat of the Rolls Royce convertible, a new addition to Seonghwa’s collection - as he had informed before starting the car, you tested the strength of the breeze by stretching your hand out of the window and letting it float. After a couple of tries, you finally got into the right pose for minimal resistance, and pretended that you were a bird, soaring, cageless. The glimmering dots of the city even further from you than now as you spread your little wings and lifted yourself towards freedom. In moments like these, you were happy to be able to enjoy the simplicities, and it was easier than ever to pretend that you were not the Y/N who had fallen so irreversibly for a beast, that to you even his lies sounded like the truth. And, of course, it was easy to imagine that Seonghwa himself was capable of feeling love.

He did not bother taking off his gloves nor, which was uncharacteristic of him, clearing the remnants of the execution off his face, as if it was a badge of honour. Interestingly, the more you observed the gangster, the more you got used to the new additions and even took them as complementing features. While he kept one hand on the steering wheel, he continuously seeked contact with you, the other gripping your thigh as if to make sure that you were still there in the car with him and were not a hallucination. The exhilarating velocity at which the car dashed past trees, somnolent villas and road signs was barely letting you catch your breath due to Seonghwa choosing to keep the roof off, and so to stabilise yourself you returned the gesture. The smirk into which his lips curled was not quite as threatening as it had appeared before, however his aggressive slam on the accelerator made you start praying. What would the family that had not yet disowned you think, if they were to find you in a crashed car with one of the most notorious men in the region? You chuckled; they would probably agree that at least the last thing you saw was beauty himself.

Finally, you approached the secluded location, and fortunately, it was as abandoned as ever. Grinding to a halt on a gravelly clearing, beyond which were two lines of wooden fences that had been set up at the very edge of the small cliff, Seonghwa set the car into parking, cranked the handbrake and turned off the ignition. A deafening silence overtook you as you looked up at the night sky, twinkling stars reminding you of the collection of silver that hung around the enigmatic fiend’s neck and on his left ear. In the absence of machinery, you could feel his presence even more acutely, and the anticipation for what he undoubtedly had planned was reducing the supposed coolness of the hour into a mere deception. Your body was burning up, and as Seonghwa’s hand moved higher and higher until it was teasing you by playing with the drawstrings of your tracksuit bottoms you had to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

You stared out at the metropolis through the windshield, registering your beloved criminal’s movements towards you. As you studied the glinting whites, reds and yellows that formed the urban starscape, you could not help but ponder how, out of all the millions of people, in this architectural phenomenon that seemed to stretch on forever, on a day when you were not even supposed to be where you had ended up being, you had run into none other than Park Seonghwa. And as fate would have it, you were naive enough to let him take everything from you. And being the loved up, hypnotised fool that you were, you thanked him for the misery in which you found yourself, because at least he made you feel. With him you were a disaster, but you saw life in colour. With him it was impossible to tell whether there would be a tomorrow, but you could exist in an exuberant today. With him, the everchanging palette of emotion had a canvas to paint on. And tonight, you were going to let the masterpiece create itself.

“Take the gloves off if you want to touch me so badly.” you derided him for his eagerness, though did not see any dampening to it. On the contrary, he appeared to be more drawn to you than ever, mumbling a ‘sure thing, darling’ as he unbuttoned the leather, and slid the pair off his hands with his canines to speed up the process. The gloves found a home in the compartment underneath the wheel, to join the harness and pistol that he had stashed away there.

“Good?” he asked, giving you a mischievous grin.

“Good.” no more words were needed for him to pull you towards him, and lock your lips together in a feverish, thrilling kiss.

Oh, how you missed this. How you missed the mind-numbing sensation of his hand on the back of your neck, how soft his lips were compared to his sharp and intimidatingly stunning appearance. You moved in a familiar rhythm, having recognised one another’s alluring presence and only wanting more with each passing second. Frustrated with the remaining distance, Seonghwa growled into you and dragged you by your top; understanding his goal, you rose from your seat and promptly were settled on his lap, grinding against his growing erection that was concealed by too many layers of clothing for your liking.

Brushing his hair back, lightly tugging on it as you reached the ends, you were giving yourself up to the scalding hot hellfire. Your memory did not fail you: the action elicited a groan, and the kiss was further deepened until your lungs were screaming for oxygen. Pulling away, you gasped, only to be alerted by a stinging pain on your cheek, and a hostile grimace on the man, whose hand was hovering next to your jawline.

“Did I say you could pull away?”

“And since when are you so damn needy?” You challenged, slapping away the hand that had just collided with you, and placing yours on his exposed throat, not bothering to ease into the action as you pushed your digits into the sensitive skin, restricting his airflow and preventing him from taunting you with a mocking retort.

You continued to rock your hips forward, sensing your own arousal climbing further and further amidst the enjoyment of the man’s temporary obedience. You watched his eyes roll back momentarily, and he attempted to tilt his head towards you and steal your lips, only for you to wriggle in his lap until you were completely out of his reach, still holding his neck.

Seonghwa was seeing stars, and yet amongst them you still shined the brightest. There you were. This was who he was searching for. When he was at his limit, and could no longer withstand the restraint, he rapidly reached for your wrist and yanked your arm away, making you yelp. To prevent you from attempting anything similar, he used his hands as cuffs to keep you under his control, and pulled you to him. Giving you a smirk corrupted by lust, he kissed you again, only this time letting his long tongue part your mouth, and swirl itself around.

Wanton sounds filled your mind and preoccupied your ears as you parted, strings of saliva connecting you. Apparently dissatisfied, Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, and gripped your waist. Sitting up, he mumbled ‘back seat’ and stumbled out of the car with you wrapped around him. In seconds, you were lying on the couch-like leather, Seonghwa above you as he shifted his attention to your neck, leaving trails of spit, and nipping at the skin until he saw the beloved bruising begin to show. Sucking above the jugular vein, he imagined himself tearing you apart then and there. Destroying you. But the way in which your hands swiftly moved to unbutton his shirt was too enticing to not commend.

“Look who is needy now.” he teased, and reached for the zipper on your hoodie, unable to contain a pleased sigh as he saw that you had not changed out of the white dancewear. As soon as the hoodie was off, and flying in the direction of the steering wheel, he let himself devour the tainted goddess that you were.

Trailing over the fabric, he did not wish to take it off, the image of you around the pole still fresh in his mind and amplifying his lust. His lips made contact with your chest as he added more love bites to his abstract design.

“You drove me crazy earlier tonight with those moves of yours. How could you even consider anything else when you have a body made to sin?”

“I think you are batshit by default.”

“Do you want me to punish you again?” he threatened, discontented when it had no effect on you as you contended. 

“By what, hitting me? Two can play that game-” as soon as he saw your hand flying towards him, he caught it and forced it down by you, and chuckled.

“Be a good girl and you’ll come.”

“Big deal.”

“Says the whore who was grinding against me.”

He shifted to untie your sweats, and dragged the material down to reveal your matching white g-string, stopping for a second before moving to take it off too. The bra was going to be enough for him.

“Says the reprobate with a hardon from the bare minimum.”

He did not respond, too enraptured by the sight before him. Your form, laid out and so familiar, and yet, the newfound resolve and the bite in your words was boundlessly more attractive than the mellow nurse in training that he had fucked before. The blaze that had festered and grown within you, painting your psyche and very essence in the soot of detestation was a guiding light to him, a star in the pitch black that he gravitated towards, and wished to take over. Your strength and determination spurred him on and inspired him to make you reach the point of no return. How? He was yet to decide. But that came after he had his fill of your intoxicating body.

“Damn, Y/N, do I even need to get you ready for me? You’re so fucking wet-” he remarked, running a hand over your pussy, with it immediately receiving a dose of your slick.

“Guess you don’t.” you countered, attempting to shut your legs together, but to no avail as your brattiness only encouraged him.

“You know what. I am in a giving mood. A changed man. Ready to commit some good deeds.” he announced to you in a low, borderline monstrous tone as Seonghwa pulled you by your ankles closer to him and began to work at your arousal.

After a slow start, where he languidly circled your nub until you gave out a whine, the man dedicated himself wholly, and soon enough, you were sinking into a sensual paradise. The two digits pumped into you, while with his other hand Seonghwa was stimulating your sensitive clit relentlessly, rubbing the erect nub until you were barely able to produce any sound at all. Pressing his thumb right against its tip, he curled his fingers and beckoned you closer to a climax, stopping the motions, he kept his hand inside as he replaced the finger that was dominating your clit with another thumb, and instead took to rapidly building you up with practised, fast flicks, higher, higher, just as you were about to-

Your hips jerked up, only to be met with a total emptiness as you tried desperately to coax Seonghwa into giving you your orgasm, to which he only responded with a click of his tongue, and a demonstrative sucking of his digits as you watched him with a glazed over expression.

“You rude, unbearable menace.”

“Awh, is my precious angel angry that I did not give you what you wanted?” he asked, giving his cock a couple of pumps before making a circular motion with his index finger and ordering you.

“On your hands and knees, like the bitch you are.” immediately, you obliged, unable to contain yourself after he had denied you what you had been seeking, with that devilish grin suggesting just how much the notion had excited him. Finally, he undid his belt and trousers, letting his aching length spring free, a hiss escaping Seonghwa as the cool air hit it.

Finding your slick-coated pussy with the tip of his cock, he teased you, repeatedly moving it back and forth between your folds. When you let out a whine, rocking your ass side to side in an attempt to deliver your need for more friction, Seonghwa merely chuckled and pushed forward, keeping his member flush against your sex, but not offering any relief. Your wetness coated him as he continued the torturous act, pausing to flick your clit and snicker at just how desperate you had become for his dick.

“Tell me if you want it.” Seonghwa wanted to hear you beg, or sigh, or anything else to suggest that you were fully pliable, but what had come out of your dirty mouth surpassed all his wishes.

“You want this pussy more than I want you, judging by how fucking hard your cock is, Hwa.”

Without as much as a warning, he put an end to the foreplay and slammed his hips against yours, sinking deep inside and groaning at the warm invitation of your walls. As he heard you yell out, he mercilessly glided back until only his tip was between your labia, only to thrust and bottom out once more. And again. And again. Just as he had remembered from the nights he had you before, this left you trembling, and soon enough your body was pleading for more, to which he happily obliged, smacking you on the ass and speeding up.

The feeling of you spasming around him and the feeble moans were an unrivalled art. He positioned one hand to hook around you and held it against the area right below your belly, biting his lip as he felt his dick pushing deep inside you, the bulge detectable by his palm. Closing his eyes, Seonghwa focused on this sensation, thereby slowing down ever so slightly, and moving to hit the spot that accelerated the growth of the knot in your tightening core. 

“A-ah… Seong… hwa…” you mewled into each stroke, hazy and unable to form anything more than nonsensical babble.

“That’s right, darling, only I can make you feel this good.”

Seonghwa was despicable, because he knew exactly how to make you lose your mind and fall apart under him and forget that you ever hated him at all, driven only by a carnal passion. Having had enough practice to study you, you were at his mercy as he provided the exact fullness that you had been desiring for so long, the exact firm thrusts that were bringing you closer and closer to a total fall, and the honey-laden voice that had you turning even weaker.

“My- darling-”

Your climax came down on you hard and fast, and you crumbled into the shaking that washed over you, forehead almost connecting with the back of the seats if not for the fistful of your tresses that Seonghwa had grabbed. Not letting you ride out your high, he quickened his pace and each thrust was making your vision darken and your moans turn into pathetic wails, drowned out by the lewd slapping of skin against skin that was lubricated by your orgasm. Using you as a fucktoy, he chased his own high and pushed you into an abyss of violent pleasure, ceasing to abuse your cunt only when he deemed it necessary for himself.

He slid his cock out of your pulsating sex, dragging it over your clit before ushering you to kneel before him. Movements still too slow and lagging, Seonghwa proceeded to guide one leg, then another down, so that you were ready for him. Lifting your chin, he he peered into your hazy orbs and commanded:

“Open.”

As you slackened your jaw and opened your mouth wide in obedience, he spat into it, and upon positioning one of his hands at the back of your head and the other at the base of his member, he slid into the warmth, sighing as your tongue glided along his throbbing length, as if encouraging him to go deeper until his tip hit the very limit and bumped against the back of your throat. You struggled to suppress your gag reflex, but the salaciousness of the combination of yours and his spit and your orgasm dribbling around his cock as you began to bob your head was driving Seonghwa to the brink of insanity, and you desperately wanted to see him unravel entirely.

“Ah… that’s it. My good cock slut. This mouth is built… for me.”

You allowed him to choke you as he fucked your throat with abandon, submitting to the oncoming waves of his orgasm. Clawing at his thighs you seeked balance, to which he responded by pushing you even closer, earning a muted yelp. The vibration drove him over the edge as he pumped himself inside you only a few more times, before collapsing into a series of staggered bucks of the hips and a muttering of filthy curses.

“Swallow darling, I bet you were dreaming of this- ah, fuck-” he exclaimed. 

He threw his head back as you centred yourself, trying to relax into how his hand that was tangled in your hair kept you so close that your nose was pressed against his pubic bone, though it proved to be an impossible challenge. In an effort to overcome the pain that spread over your jaw as Seonghwa refused to let go of you, you blinked away the moisture in your eyes and focused on the sensation of the hot, salty cum coating and running down the back of your throat. 

When he finally released you from his hold and let you fall onto the floor of the car, you sputtered and gasped for air, vision having grown blurry. While he did not comfort you, nor praise you for how well you had taken him, even though judging from his state you could make your own conclusions about the performance, this roughness felt more real, more honest than the intimacy you had shared before. You licked the corners of your mouth, collecting the remnants of his cum and spit, and crawled up onto the leather seating to be met with open arms, a gesture which, in your exhaustion, you accepted.

Captured in a lazy embrace you admired the universe that surrounded you. The dawn was imminent, with some of the more enthusiastic birds already greeting you with their songs and the distant rumble of the city beginning to pick up, and yet none of this felt real. It was like you were floating in the air, tethered to the mortal realm only by the man beside you. You had taken the liberty of snatching Seonghwa’s suit jacket, considering that the outerwear you had been wearing had been unceremoniously discarded and thrown into the driver leg space, outside of your immediate reach. 

You pondered what was going to happen after this broken reunion, that had been as always, orchestrated by the evil mastermind with a pretty face, currently resting on the seats, one arm over the door, the other on the back rest, head tilted to the sky. When you inspected one of the dark spots on the right sleeve of the jacket, you had come to realise that the dead man, who you had left behind to chase your pleasure, had, amidst his departure from the living, was trying to greet Seonghwa. Using his gang name, no less. You wanted to laugh until tears would be streaming down your face. Double over and, hands hitting your thighs, fail to compose yourself and continue laughing at just how ignorant you were. Fooled once again. Of course that scene had been this criminal’s doing. How else could anything ever happen to you if not with Seonghwa’s meddling? This overly involved, human embodiment of jeopardy who you had voluntarily invited in to share space and time, so elegant as he was devoid of movement, counting stars in the sky, the unbuttoned white shirt gracing his figure like a heavenly robe. It was a shame that you had to have chosen him to glorify, especially since he fit the role well enough to fit into your delusions.

As you sat upright, only to put your elbows on your knees and lean to catch your head in your hands, you mused whether you truly despised this man or not. It was almost habitual, routinely, to curse his name again, and again until it was nothing but an incoherent collection of syllables. It was your shield and clarity, your comprehension of the incorrigible man who, come the opportunity, would shoot you down the same way that he did to hundreds, if not thousands of others. It was heartbreaking, gut-wrenching, but unfortunately true. In his eyes the individuals with families, friends, hopes and dreams, hell, even those with nothing at all, were nothing but sacks of bone and blood that he could scare into submission, or drain if they disobeyed. Such were his methods. Methods that you had looked the other way from, making yourself believe that you were above that amateur, unjust purgatory. No matter how much of you Seonghwa received as an offering, it was never going to be enough. The seven deadly sins were a bucket list for him, and one in which he would outshine every reckless criminal. He was systematic, calculating, and would not hesitate to remove a variable that no longer served him.

You were serene, a ghost of a smile dancing on your lips. Slowly, you blinked, immersing yourself in the sensation of the bites, the kisses that the man you had once felt something for gifted you. Sultry tattoos that you would wear with the pride of a person who had defeated themselves, come to terms with, and learnt to coexist with inner turmoil. Nothing short of a miracle. If this hell were to continue, then you would simply have to adapt to live with the ebbs and flows of a turbulent tide. Hilarious, how you were treating Seonghwa as if he was a terminal disease that you had to live with, but the analogy was comforting. Until the moment when you would receive a bullet between your brows, you would strive to live fully, and remain indifferent. As much as you had wanted to ‘get the final word’, you had come to realise that all you had to say had been said, and he was no longer worth your time. Looking at the horizon, you spotted the sun beginning to stir under its heavy blankets, getting ready to rise.

“You thought about me, didn’t you?” Seonghwa’s voice broke your peace, and you turned to him, regarding his bewitching demeanour with a tired onceover.

“Hm?”

“You were thinking about me, in that alley way. Weren’t you?” so, he had realised now, too. However, you were not bothered to continue this discourse. Fascinating how the mind of even the most evil of men could get fixated on the simple things like a random good-for-nothing becoming a gourmet meal for maggots.

“I am not sure why or how that matters.”

“Would you kindly get the gun for me?” Now that piqued your interest, so you obliged, and reached over the front seats, aware of how your ass was on full display for Seonghwa though he had just seen you in even more lewd tones. After a couple of tries, the hand gun was in your hands, and hooking it by the trigger guard, you tried to pass it to its owner. To your surprise, he refused and you remained standing in your perplexion.

“What are you getting at?”

“You definitely thought about me. As a matter of fact you were thinking about doing this for a long time.” you could not deny that, and thus remained silent, “Remember how I taught you to fire a gun?” the man continued, and you nodded along.

“That I do, but again. Not sure how it applies.” you crossed your arms, the pistol swinging ever so slightly from your index finger.

“Don’t you want to fulfil your dream, darling?” he raised an eyebrow and grinned.

Another game. Another dare. Another attempt at making you feel something when you had no more emotions to spare. You were spent. For the first time since you had first come to be acquainted with Park Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Hwa, Mars, you saw a stranger. A passing face who you would regard, but most importantly, go on your merry way and never wish to see again. No more yearning, nor begging. He was cute when he thought he was in control. You chuckled, earning a questioning gaze from the ghost of your past.

“What is so amusing, my dear Y/N? So delighted that you can barely contain yourself?”

Oh, if only he knew. You steadied your breathing, and through half-lidded eyes, took in the man’s form that you had once worshipped. Everything had finally clicked, and unknowingly, the symphony in your mind was now fully composed, all to Seonghwa’s rhythm. Your magnum opus, by the visitation of a brutal muse, completed. With the softness of a stalking cat, you bent forward and came face to face with this boy, and with both hands, pressed the gun to his bare chest, smiling languidly as it collided with the necklaces to make a noteless tune. Seonghwa’s eyes widened as he followed your ascension back to now leaning against the front seat further from him, stifling a laugh of his own as he realised your intentions. The world held its breath as you dispelled your nightmare, and, light-hearted, like you were discussing daily happenings or the weather, asked him:

“You said you’d keep my hands clean, right?”

“Yes.” breathless, he whispered.

“You said you would kill anyone for me, right?” you continued sweetly, studying how Seonghwa checked the magazine and clicked the hammer with practised motions, appearing almost impressed.

“Yes.”

“Do anything to make me smile?” you tested, and he conceded, brushing a hand over the barrel, and looking up to memorise your every detail.

“Yes.”

“Then prove it. And make me smile. One last time.”

You uttered, admiring how his perfect skin, his gorgeous eyes, his dark soul glowed, caught ablaze in the rays of the rising sun.

Bang bang, my baby shot me down.

[1mlostnow]

A young man stands in his bedroom. It just so happens that today, the 27th of July, is this young man's birthday. Though it was years ago he was given life, it is only today that he will be given a name.

What will the name of this young man be?

•

•

•

🐸 The Basics :

Name : Evan

Pronouns : He/Him

Age : A minor!!

Gender : Male

Sexuality : Gay

Nationality : American

Star Sign : Leo

MBTI : INTJ-T

I love nicknames, call me whatever.

I’m usually around from 8AM to 1AM CDT.

Music sideblog : @evan-radio

🐛 My Resume :

Loser CEO, the ‘weird kid’ since birth, Professional Ghostbuster, Supervillian, and Midwestern Cowboy (the fun way, not the cop way), Lab Experiment #0727

🪲 My Music :

AJJ, boygenius, Bug Hunter, Cage The Elephant, Car Seat Headrest, Crywank, Lemon Demon, Lord Huron, Los Campesinos!, MCR, Noah Kahan, ODO, Pat The Bunny, Radiohead, Rex Orange County, Seb Lowe, Sleep Token, Tally Hall, Tame Impala, Teen Suicide, TFB, The Smiths, Vundabar, Weezer :/, Will Wood/WWATT, Wingnut Dishwashers Union, and more.

🐢 Tags :

# evan speaks -> I talk. A lot. // # evan rants -> I tend to be very emotional // # evan’s memories -> nostalgia mode // # evan can’t vote -> US politics // # evan draws -> my art // # EvanRadio -> my sideblog for music // # i love my mutuals -> typically multiple mutual appreciation posts per day

🐍 Rules & Boundaries :

I’m a minor!! Don’t be weird!!

Obviously, any form of discrimination is off limits.

Cringe culture is dead, all are welcome, and I’m always open to learning.

Asks and anons are open, notifs are off so feel free to spam, but I can’t promise I’ll see it right away. Absolutely feel free to interact and ask, I will have full convos w/ you through reblogs. I answer DMs on a case-by-case basis. If you are over 18, please do not DM me.

🦎 Fandoms and characters ->

★ Dead Poets Society

★ House MD

★ Supernatural

★ Sherlock

★ Ghostbusters

★ Homestuck

🦖 Incoming fandoms ->

★ Hannibal, Good Omens, Saw

🐊 Backseat Fandoms ->

★ IT, Stranger Things, Over The Garden Wall, Scooby-Doo

🦚 Fandom Graveyard ->

★ Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Creepypasta

🦜 Kinnies ->

★ Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock)

★ Egon Spengler (Ghostbusters)

★ Castiel (Supernatural)

★ Steven Meeks (Dead Poets Society)

★ Richie Tozier (IT 2017)

★ Rory Keaner (My Babysitter’s A Vampire)

🪛 Other Movies :

The Truman Show, Stand By Me, Velvet Goldmine, Jaws, The Goonies, Breakfast Club

🐉 Other Interests :

Reading, writing, art (drawing, painting, digital and traditional), etymology, science, history, math, forensics, biology, marching band (alto sax), sharks

🔋 Other Facts :

- I love my car like it’s my child #TOMATER SUPREMACY 🦚

- Richard Cameron Defender for life (see here)🐊

- Blog theme changes frequently 🦖

- i LOVE doing little doodles and drawings of my friends 🐢

- I love my mutuals and you guys are my best friends btw 🐍

- More mouse bites!! This vexes me! Medicine drug!! 🦎

- ADHD 🪲

- I’ve got a bad habit of viewing notifications but never responding to them, if this happens please just tag me again 📗

🦠 A Note :

I am very indecisive and this post will be edited very often (see counter below)

🧪 Dead Poets Society :

@pingunaa @ghostboyhood @wordssricochet @meekspeaks @poetsinnyc @wilsons-three-legged-siamese @midwest-quill @apparitiongnostic @de4d-poet-kisser @yourfavvgal @asclexe @lv3buzzz

If I forgot someone/if you want to be added just lmk :)) if I forgot you I’m so so sorry

Edited - |||| ||

[smilocity]

Match made in heaven

ᴀ ʏᴀᴋᴜ ᴍᴏʀɪsᴜᴋᴇ x ғᴇᴍʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ sᴛᴏʀʏ

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚙 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚙𝚊𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 '𝚘𝚕 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝! (𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙹𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚅𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚈𝚊𝚔𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝙾𝙲, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖!

𝚂𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘!

It all started in high school in the year of 2012.

To be truthful, you never knew what you signed up for when one of your classmates in Class 5 asked you if you could be the boys volleyball team’s manager.

Initially, you were nervous to take up the job even though you knew most of the boys who are in the club. And it wasn’t helping that your friends are going to keep pestering you til you confess to the third-year libero.

So…you eventually gave in and talked to Nekoma’s coach to be appointed for the job the evening before you meet the team.

1 day later…

The coachs and you walked inside the gymnasium. Upon first glance, it looked very spacious and unfamiliar.

But hearing the coaches’ words made you think, ‘It’s not so bad after all.'

"Gather 'round!"

"Yes, sir!"

Nekomata-sensei smiled at his team before announcing great news. He had recently been spoken to about a new addition to the roster.

"Now, before I reveal who it is, I’d like you all to be nice on her first day, alright? We don’t her to get scared away, do we?" His words troubled the young athletes.

Yamamoto blinked for a seconds before gasping when seeing someone come into frame after hiding behind the coaches’ backs.

"We get a manager?!"

You flinched, not used to sudden yells out of the blue. Kuro scolded him for yelling so loud, reminding him of the words their coach told them.

"Yes," answered the coach before turning to introduce you, "This is our new manager starting from today. She’s had experience from her previous year so we didn’t need to make any trials. Welcome her warmly."

You bowed before the group of boys, "N-Nice to meet you!"

The team bowed to greet you, "Welcome to the Nekoma Boys’ Volleyball team!"

Yaku noticed you, giving you a small smile for accepting his proposal of being their manager.

"Okay! Stop ogling at the manager! Go back to practice! We have Golden Week and we’re not about to lose against our Rival Karasuno!"

"Yes, sir!"

And that’s how it kicked off.

Overall, everyone has been fairly nice to you and treated you well. Since you’re a third year, you were the closest to Kuro, Kai and Yaku. (Though, most of the time you’re trying to keep them from arguing with the help of Kai.)

Recently, you’ve been helping the first and second-years. Yamamoto kept on looking away from you while yelling, "I can’t look at her! It’s too much!"

Uh…Yeah…he’s uh…something.

(Eventually, you were able to talk to him for a few moments. But after the 45 second mark, he dashes off since he think he’s "unworthy of your attention".)

Kenma was by far the most closed off of all the players. But he did end up talking to you when you mentioned a game you just bought and was stuck on a level he beat a long time ago. (He currently, goes to you if you ever want to know of a new game that just came out.)

Fukunaga always has managed to make the shy and polite manager laugh at his jokes that he either makes during practice or time-outs. (The team thinks that your humour’s broken but haven’t told you directly.)

Inuoka and Shibiyama are the ones who want to talk to you but end up stuttering words.

It amused you as you assured them that they can speak freely when around you.

As said before, the third-years are the ones the closest you. But the one who talks to you the most is Yaku. Because he has the fastest crush on you.

It was revealed when Kai asked what type of girls the other third-years are interested in.

"Do you like girls with short hair, Yaku?" Asked, Kai as they changed to get into their P.E uniforms.

With a huge smile, the starting libero replied, "Yeah! I like ‘em a lot!"

Kai turned to the captain, "And what about you, Kuro?"

With a glare pointed towards the shortest player he stated, "Long hair."

After winning against Karasuno in a practice match. You went to congratulate the players. "You did really well, Yaku! Your receives were amazing!" You beamed, talking about how you were amazed by his skills.

It was a miracle that the manager didn’t notice his face being a tomato in front of her, "T-Thank you! I’ll do even better next time!"

His robotic words made Kuro snicker in the background, "Oh?~ The Demon Senpai has a soft spot for our sweet manager?"

In a few seconds, the libero kicked the middle blocker on his left side. You came up to the two of them to dissuade the situation, "Morisuke-kun! Please don’t beat Kuro-kun up…!"

In the blink of an eye, he stood still looking as if he didn’t beat up anybody beforehand.

"The fact that he only listens to her and the coaches is scary…" Inuoka mumbled, Shibuyama gave a nod in agreement.

The team knew of how infatuated Yaku is with their sweet manager. You, however, have only spoke to Kai about your feelings. (He strongly advised you to confess much to your disarray…)

"Maybe during the summer camp? You’ll have plenty of time to confess," Kai kindly smiled in your direction. (You would’ve cried in happiness and in thanks to him if you didn’t held back.)

You pondered on that suggestion, "That is…actually a good idea! Thank you so much, Kai!” The said third-year merely waved it saying it was nothing.

During summer camp, you felt yourself mostly talking to Yaku when he’s on break on not playing in any of the practice matches.

Along the way, Lev Haiba, a fire-year that is half Japanese and Half Russian just joined the club and school shortly before. Yaku was his receiving coach in order for him to get accustomed to the game.

The tall player called out to you, "Please help…Yaku-san is torturing me with receiving training…!" He whined, going up to you for comfort.

"What? Oh, no! You poor thing, Lev!" You felt bad for him, "Don’t worry, I’ll go have a talk with him, okay?"

Just in the nick of time, the libero appears to scolded Lev on leaving the gym, “Lev! I knew you were trying to escape! Yamamoto told me you said I let you off early! I didn’t say anything about that!"

"Morisuke-kun," hearing your voice made Yaku stiffen slightly, it wasn’t the usual kind and sweet tone you used. It was a cold tone you used when you weren’t having either someone’s antics.

You held your hips, lecturing on the third-year of how he needs to at least let Lev rest and repair his muscles before he goes back to training.

It was known that Lev behind you had the most smuggest smirk behind you. (I’m laughing at how funny it would look like to see someone of average, procreating a person at least three times their height.)

That night, Yaku apologized and promised he’d go a little easier on Lev. For your sake. (He didn’t, he just did it behind closed doors…)

Just before everyone got to bed. You went ahead to clean the gym so that when the players wake up, they would be able to play again early in the morning.

It didn’t take long but it was still exhausting, you decided to watch the stars before going to sleep.

"I didn’t know you were still here."

That voice made you jump slightly before turning to see it was Yaku who decided to join you by sitting down and looking at the sky.

"Sorry, I just noticed you here and I thought I’d go see if you were alright…" he managed to say, looking a little apologetic for interrupting

You immediately injected, saying you were merely startled by the noise, "Haha! You always say things like that to make others feel better," laughed the male student.

"I like that about you." Those words made your heart soar.

"You’re always caring and kind. But you know when to be strict. I’ve admired that kind of mentality you had. It just…drove me even deeper into liking you more," the messy blonde hair player confessed.

Then it hit you…

Yaku likes you… (AHEM. More like loves you but whatever…)

While hearing him continue unknowingly confess his feelings to you. You couldn’t help but whisper he next words that blew with the wind.

"I love you."

Yaku stopped mid-sentence and gave you a surprised look, "What did you just say…?"

With a red face, you tried to justify yourself, saying that you said nothing or mumbled words without knowing you said it out loud.

But Yaku heard them, and he wanted to hear it again, "Please repeat it…I want to answer you formally."

His gaze made you melt. It didn’t take long for you to shyly repeat what you said before, "I…love you."

Once those words were uttered out of your mouth, his hands held yours. He whispered your name softly, "I…"

"I love you, too."

His response made the entire world around you freeze, "Morisuke…?" All you say was utter his name under your breath.

"If it’s not too much for you," he started, having a tint of red painted on his cheeks, "I’d like to ask you out. Maybe we can try out dating to see how things go."

Yaku’s breath hitched when seeing the most beautiful smile that he’d ever seen before on her face.

"Okay!"

After the confession, the both of you kept your relationship in secrete til you were official. It only lasted at least two weeks before Kuro pointed out how Yaku was practically sticking to you like glue.

You both announced your relationship ONLY to the third-years during summer camp. (Kenma and Fukunaga found out way before Kuro.)

Yamamoto and the first-years found out during the Spring Tournament that could send them to nationals.

It was their match against Nohebi did the others found out.

Alisa Haiba, Lev’s older sister was standing next to you, cheering on Nekoma with you. Alongside with Yamamoto’s sister who was in charge of the cheer team: Akane.

"Do your best, Lyovochka!~" Alisa cheered on her younger brother making the said brother light up at his elder sister’s cheering.

Akane was intrigued by the nickname, Alisa happily explained it was because that he is just very adorable in her eyes since he’s younger.

You came to understand as well since Lev is as innocent as can be. And he is such a sweetheart towards you when you need help.

When seeing your boyfriend perfectly receive the spike from the opposing team, you were the next to cheer him on.

"Nice receive, Morisuke-kun!~" Your cheering was heard by him and the team.

They turned to spot their manager in the stands, wearing a jersey similar to Yaku’s. (The coaches gave you a day off since you a test during the match. But you still wanted to see your favourite team and libero.) Seeing the display made Nekoma’s starting libero turn into a tomato.

"You’re dating?!" Yamamoto and Lev asked in unison towards the shorter upperclassman.

Yaku merely yelled at them to concentrate on the game, "Yeah, the rest of the team knew way longer before," as Kenma mentioned the gap in time. The second-year and first-year gave Yaku offended looks that he never announced his relationship to them.

During that match, you were worried when seeing Yaku appear from entourage with a limp. Without thinking, you immediately jumped in to help him.

"Damn it…Why now…?! I was always being careful…And it had to happen…!" He cursed, you and Yamamoto helped him get towards the bench.

You tried to reassure him, "Don’t worry, Mori. You did great," your boyfriend was placed near the coach’s bench to be assessed by you.

You told them that it’s not a big issue. Yaku was lucky that he only mildly twisted his ankle. It’ll take at least a week or so for him to recover.

With Shibuyama taking Yaku’s place in the game. The team secured their spot to head to nationals thanks to the libero’s teamwork with Lev.

The young couple embraced each other in joy at the news, "See? I told you everything was going to be fine!" You smiled.

"God…I love you," he unknowingly said, before laughing at your flushed face. You lectured him on not saying such things out of the blue.

"You could say…you both are a match made in heaven?" Teased Kuro, joining the duo on the bench to help Yaku line up wit the rest of the players.

The third-year snapped back, "Shut up, Kuro! Let me have my moment with my girlfriend for once!" You only laughed with Kai before they went to line up.

How time flies when you’re with loved ones.

Final exams were completed and school is almost finished. You applied for a University degree of physical therapy. Some of your friends applied for colleges or already went to finding a job.

Most of your friends in the volleyball club had either continued a profession in the sport or went their separate ways in life. To which you were happy for all of them!

You were the most happy that Yaku was given the opportunity to continue his profession in Volleyball in the country of Russia. The team was called Tigr Ekaterinburg. It was in the Volleyball Super League.

Yaku was thrilled too, but the problem was the long distance. He’d have to go to other side of the world to continue a sport he loved. But be away from someone he loves more.

"I just don’t want you to think that I’m leaving you for my career…" he explained, adding in the fact that there might be a chance he might not come back as often to Japan as he hoped.

You smiled, holding his cheek, "Morisuke. I’m okay with it," you told him. Trying to comfort him, And plus, who says you’re going alone?" A smirk could be seen forming on your face.

He looked at you, perplexed for a moments before grinning, "You’re coming, too?!" He asked before hugging you, tackling you on your mattress, "Aw! Babe! That’s amazing!"

With a smile you rubbed his back affectionately, "Mhm. I’m mostly almost finished with my degree. All that’s left is one more trimester for me. And it’s not up until next year."

Your boyfriend of a year and a half started to run around your room, "We need to start packing!" You cackled, telling him you still have time to pack.

Those were the last moments of 2013 for you.

For a year, you stayed in Russia with Yaku. The two of you kept in touch with your friends back I. Japan and telling them about your experiences in the foreign country.

By early 2014, you had to leave since your trimester in your university degree was right around the corner and you needed to land back in Japan early.

Of course, your boyfriend was sad, but he was happy that you spent time with him before you left. "Make sure to call me as soon as you land, okay? If I don’t pick up, I will give you permission to blow up my phone with text messages." His small "order" made you smile but agree.

As you landed back in Japan, you and Yaku started your long distance relationship. During his seasons, you would try to either call him frequently or come visit him when you had time.

And when he’s off season, he flies to Japan to come see you. It has been on and off for 7 years. Yaku has officially been a starting member for the Tigr Ekaterinburg Volleyball Team in the Russian League.

Right before he had to leave for another season, in November of 2019. Yaku Morisuke went down on one knee in front of you to ask for your hand in marriage.

"It’s been a total of 7 years since I was blessed with being with you." He started as you had started crying. "And I’m sorry for being so late, I should’ve asked you years ago before I had left for Russia."

You covered your mouth with one hand as held the other in his hand, "I am honoured to be called boyfriend. But I would us to move forward together. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So," he said your name, a few tears spilling over his face, "Would do my the honour of being my wife?"

The moment those words left his mouth, you lunged at him, happily yelling a "Yes!" A few times as he shakily slid the ring on your finger.

He brought you close to close the distance between you two, "Took me long enough, huh?" He joked as you laughed, your foreheads stuck together.

His family, with yours congratulated on your proposal and Yaku on him getting into the Russian Volleyball League. His family sent a few video calls and videos you sent to him with your family joining in. (He and your families had known of your relationship during the last few months your third-year.)

It was March 2021, and the Russian Volleyball League had started.

Yaku had been a rising star in Russia ever since he joined the team. He loved his profession, the new sightings of the country. It was everything he wanted.

But all that was left was your support. Of course, he knew you were watching. But he wished you were physically there.

As he took a break in between the sets of his match, he noticed a banner being projected on the camera, "Go! Go! Yaku Morisuke!"

The libero gasped in shock to see his family in the stands that were specially designed for family, friends or loved ones. They were cheering him on and surprising him of flying in just before his season ended.

What shocked him the most was to see his fiancée and her family together with his. You wore his jersey with the No. 18.

The camera panned to you, to show the wonderful family that is supporting the rising star. You didn’t understand what the commentators were saying. But you waved at the screens and soon showed the special banner you made to cheer your boyfriend on.

That was all he needed to finish his game.

When he was asked in an interview of how he was able to pull such an amazing play despite it being his last game for the Russian League and his season before he goes back to Japan. He simply replied in Russian with, "My family and the love of my life with her family were there cheering for me. There’s no way I would have ever missed such an important play when they’re watching."

By the end of March, articles came flying from all over starting from Russia when hearing that the famous Yaku Morisuke has a partner.

Later on in the year of 2021. Japan had recruited Yaku to be on the Japan National Volleyball team.

To say you were estatic for him was understatement since you were also recruited to be the team’s physical therapist.

You reunited with familiar faces of, Hinata Shoyo, Kageyama Tobio from Karasuno. Bokuto Kotarou from Fukurodani Academy. Ushijima Wakatoshi of Shiratorizawa and other players from the High School Spring Tournament.

Iwaizumi Hajime, who is the team’s athletic trainer was also a staff member of the team. You and him had become great friends since you were all familiar with each other back in high school. It helped a lot when working together on keeping the athletes in shape.

As the Olympics had begun, you were seen with Iwaizumi, keeping an eye on the players since you were part of three staff.

You wore Yaku’s number, no. 17 with the staff tag you were gifted by the organization. To say your fiancé was happy was an understatement. (He was was over the moon!)

Before the year of 2022, you finally earned the surname "Yaku". He even joked saying that you’ll have to call him either by his given name or by a pet name. Since you’re too used to call him by his last name.

The wedding was in Japan in order to get all of your friends and family gathered together under one roof to celebrate the greatest day of your lives.

And is that all you have to say?

The messy blond haired man gave a confused look at the interviewer, "Of course not." He chuckled, waving the person off before giving a sweet look at his wife, "Our lives had just begun. We just decided to take the long route."

The person sitting across from the couple chucked lightly before writing down his answer, "I see. And are you returning to Russia for another season, Mr. Yaku? Fans from the country have been asking for you."

Hearing that question made the professional Volleyball player laugh, "Yeah. They’re not the only ones asking me if I’m coming back. My teammates and friends that I made back in Russia have been asking me as well." The 27 year old replied.

"But, unfortunately…everyone’s going to have to wait til I’m finished with my business in Japan before I return." Yaku said before looking in the camera.

"l’m going to be a father to an amazing son. So you’ll all have to wait for me a bit longer," he announced to the viewers, tenderly holding his wife’s hand that had the beautiful diamond ring on her finger.

You chuckled, rubbing your stomach, "it’s only been 4 months, Mori. I thought we said we’d tell them at the sixth month mark."

He apologized by kissing your hand, "Sorry, love. But they would’ve known since your stomach will be more noticeable."

The interviewer congratulated the couple before finishing up the interview. "Well that concludes of the interview. Thank you, Mr. And Mrs Yaku for accepting our invitation.”

"You are welcome. I hope this will answer everyone’s burning questions about my personal life." Your husband gave a curt bow to the interviewer with you.

Articule by the Japan’s National Sports Association

Yaku Morisuke’s Relationship status

One of the best liberos of all time in the current generation is married?! Who knew!? Russian and Japanese fans with those from all over the world have been going into a frenzy over the topic! With the addition of him being a future father of two children.

To say the least, that the public did not expect this outcome.

"A match made in heaven."

Is what the fans have been saying. They are pleased with the outcome. Happy for their favourite libero.

[yrsdf]

Shut up pt2

18+

charlie dompler

It had been a week since your event in the elevator with Charlie, and things hadn't changed in the slightest. He was still being a raging asshole by stealing your doordash orders from your door step, and leaving muddy shoe tracks on your welcome matt, and knocking on your door without being there just to fuck with you. But you decided not to dwell on it as you returned home from work, your girls had invited you out to the club which usually you'd turn that down but you figured why not. It was late noon when you shut your apartment door behind you, you say your keys and bag on the counter, your heels clicked until you entered your carpeted room.

You skimmed your closet and found a red dress and some black heels, the dress was high on you which you didn't mind, you did your hair straightening it, and put a small amount of mascara on before walking out of your room,your phone rang and it was your girlfriend warning you they were here so you grabbed your purse and keys and made your way out of your apartment your eyes meeting with charlies as you audibly sighed “you look like shit” he spat in a rude tone, and you turned your gaze into a glare “well say what you want you fat nosed critter, i could care less.”

He scoffed at this before hitting a vape that he got from his pocket, the smell of berries filled the hallway of your apartment complex. “God! I hate the smell of your stupid fucking vapes,they smell just as bad as you.”

He approached your form as he puffed the smell into your face “You know what fuck you man - im just trying to enjoy myself and here you are shitting on me.” his face had clear annoyance on it, he was awfully close to you, you could smell a faint hint of beer and that berry vape he had on him. You noticed yourself grow flustered so you held your comment and left the apartment complex getting into the car with your girlfriends.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were in the middle of the dancefloor with your girls, you were quite drunk, the smell of tequila was evident on you but you weren't exactly plastered. The night had grown to a point you were bored, horny and exhausted. So you and your girls decided to leave. The sober one helped each of you into the car as she took you all home, you fiddled with your purse while you sat in the backseat, your mind wandered off to Charlie, and how he handled you in the elevator. You felt heat rush to your cheeks at the thought of being manhandled like that, he had strength you didn't even know he had. Your friend pulled up to your apartment and you got out of the car and stood with a struggling balance. You stumbled slightly to your complex “Looks like someone had a good time” you looked to the voice and saw charlie, you just rolled your walking to the doors before he blew a cloud of smoke into your face, you whipped around to face him “You know what. Fuck you charlie, fuck you and your lung cancer habits” You spat as you walked into the complex stumbling from time to time he followed behind you “Lung cancer? My lungs are fine, thank you very much, but I'm not so sure about your liver after tonight, man.” you groaned at his annoying behavior as you grabbed your keys from your purse unlocking your door “Stupid fat-nosed critter.” you went to shut your apartment door but he stood in it preventing it from shutting “What was that?” He asked, his tone low and assertive as he took a hit from his vape. You turned to face him after you sat down your purse “I said.. Stupid fat-nosed critter?” you obviously repeated as he shut the door behind him, he walked up to you backing you in to the counter “You really don't know when to shut up do you?” He asked lifting you from under your ass to plant you onto the counter, your dress rising up your thighs showing your panties. You shrugged at his question as your eyes connected to his own. “And you don't know how to mind your own business ever. Your a fucking assho-” His lips smashed to yours, your lips moving in sync as he let out his frustrations out on you, one of his hands connected to your neck once again as the other hand slid your panties to the side, his finger sunk into you resulting in you moaning in his mouth.

He pumped into you as you became a mess, his lips disconnected from your own as your concealed moans were now heard and loud, his hand still wrapped tightly around your neck causing your moans to become more hidden and silent. “You're not talking now huh? I like you like this - quiet and at my control” you whimpered at this as his finger curled up rubbing your sweet spot, he introduced a second finger pumping into you as he embraced your pathetic noises.

After some time of prepping he removed his fingers and the hand around your neck, he pulled his boxers down and rubbed your juices along his own member, he aligned himself to you and slowly pushed inside of you, earning a gasp from both of you he didn't waste any time pounding into you, both of his hands were gripping each side of your hips to keep you planted in place, your lewd moans and whimpers filled your empty apartment “I like this side of you - you actually sound tolerable when your not speaking and just moaning”

You didn't care about his stupid remarks, you just cared about his member stuffed into you plowing through your insides ``Charlie- Im close. Please.” He had a small cocky grin as he picked up his pace, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you finished, your orgasm spilled through your nerves causing your whole body to tremble. He wasn't far behind you as he had a few sloppy thrusts before filling you up, his head leaning into your shoulder blade. Both of you remained silent and panting, your body worn out from not only the amazing sex, but also the tequila you fell asleep against him causing him to scoff, his hand reaching for the vape on the counter taking a hit of it.

He pulled up his boxers and his pants zipping his zipper up as he silently lifted you over his shoulder, he carried you into your own room setting you on your own bed as he rummaged through your belongings grabbing you some pajamas and returning to your side, he undressed and redressed you while holding his vape in his mouth, he pulled your blanket over your sleeping form, he took a final glance at you before walking out of your room and out of your apartment taking a hit from his vape, he sighed shutting your door behind him, he walked toward his own apartment and unlocked the door walking in and shutting the door behind him.

[ncis-nerd]

The Writer, The Artist and The Mediocre: Chapter 2

November 3rd, 2023 Natasha Romanov

7:00 A.M. (Artist)

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

It’s my first day at this new school, I’m so excited! I have mixed feelings though, I painted my nails this morning. It relaxes me. It also prevents me from picking at my nails. One of many bad habits. Anyways, I can’t wait to make some friends. I heard this school has a badminton club. I love badminton! I made each finger a different color, thumb is orange, pointer is green, middle is pink, index is blue and pinky is yellow.

Most of my clothes are stained in paint but that's okay. It’s my own personal touch. I’m currently waiting in the office for my schedule. I hope I get art history, that class seems interesting. “Natasha Romanov!” a voice called out. I stood up and went to the desk. “That’s me!” I said eagerly. “Here’s your schedule, hun.” The lady hands me the paper. She smells like grandma perfume.

I have economics first period. I need to find room 10E. 20B. 13 C. Where is it? “RINGGG” the bell rings. Oh no, I’m running late! A girl with bangs and a green hoodie bumps into me. I fall to the ground. “Oof” I groan. I look up to find her staring at me, she reaches out her arm to help me. She pulls me up, shooting me an apologetic look. “Thanks for the greeting to my new school..” I say.

She continues walking in a rush. Wait, why don’t I just ask her for directions. “Hey, do you happen to know room 10E is?” I exclaim, running to catch up to her. Silence. She continues walking. “Excuse me??” I speak. She looks at me after a moment and points to a door that reads 10E. “Thank you!” I exclaim before rushing in.

She follows behind me. She must have this class too. “Thank you ladies for joining!” The teacher speaks. She has red hair. The girl in the green hoodie goes to her seat, she sits in the middle of the classroom. “Everyone, this is our new student Natasha Romanov. Natasha, you can take that seat next to Y/N.” She points to the girl who ran into me in the hallway. Huh, this will be interesting to say the least.

The whole class is packed so this is the only empty seat. Wow. “I’m Natasha. But you probably know that since the teacher already said that.” I reach my hand out to shake hers. She shakes back, saying nothing in response. “Wow, this class is so full. Back where I come from the classes were as small as 16 students. Here I can see at least 34.” I ramble, looking around and scanning the room. “Okay class, pull out your textbook to page 193.” The teacher instructs. I don’t have a textbook. I raise my hand.

“Ms…” I spoke, realizing I don’t know the teacher’s name. “Oh, silly me! I didn’t introduce myself. Sorry! I am Ms Maximoff. Your economics teacher. Welcome to the class” She smiles. “Ms Maximoff, I don’t have a textbook.” I said. “Right, well we don’t have any more in the room so I can get one for you tomorrow but today, Y/N, you mind sharing with Natasha?” Ms Maximoff asked the girl next to me. She nodded in response, pushing her textbook so it was between the two of us. “Thanks” I whisper.

I noticed her book was filled with annotations, highlights and little notes. Guess I've found my study buddy. "So.. you like badminton?" I whisper, looking at the girl beside me. "Girls, quiet." Ms Maximoff's voice echoed.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅

au masterpost

[mxaether]

MITCH MARNER -VS- TORONTO MEDIA/TORONTO FANS/HIMSELF/EVERYONE (a playlist for when you love a thing so much, and it bites you)

track list and selected lyrics for each under the cut ❤️

1. I Want You So Bad I Can't Breathe - OK GO i want you, yeah, i want you/ i want you, yeah, i want you bad/ so bad i can't think straight/ so bad all my bones shake / so bad i can't breathe 2. Careful What You Wish For (the doctor said to) - Jack Harris something is missing/this predisposition/i feel like i'm living inside of my head 3. Who Made You A Monster? - Hael tricking the world to trust you/but everything that you say/is some kind of sordid lie/who taught you how to lie so well? 4. GOSSIP - Maneskin, Tom Morello welcome to the city of lies/where everything's got a price/gonna be your favourite place -- so sip the gossip, drink till you choke/sip the gossip, burn down your throat 5. Don't Be Nice - Watsky false modesty is a guilty habit/some people simply have it/but the fact is i would not have spent a decade doing this/if i did not believe i was at least a tiny bit ridiculously filthy at it 6. JEKYLL & HIDE - Bishop Briggs sweet and then you're sour/changes by the hour/never know which one i'll taste 7. End of It - Friday Pilots Club it's cruel you know/the way they've been treating you lately/get you real messed up on the daily 8. Nowhere Kid - Des Rocs inside of a maze you hide away/where nobody cares who you are/caught in a lie you can't escape 9. All For Us - Labrinth, Zendaya guess you figured my two times two/always equates to one/dreamers are selfish -- i'm taking it all for us, all/doing it all for love 10. Cruel Devotion - Night Club do you want me? tell me true/on my knees and now i'm begging you/loving you is such a cruel devotion 11. Who Are You, Really? - Mikky Ekko i have nothing left to prove/cause i have nothing left to lose/see me bare my teeth for you/who, who are you? 12. Heartbreak Feels So Good - Fall Out Boy is there a word for a bad miracle?/nobody said the road was endless/nobody said the climb was friendless 13. Some People - Dan Mangan cause it's too easy to be righteous when you eat what you've been fed/some people don't question what they've read/some people should 14. SELF-SABOTAGE - Waterparks i'll self sabotage/if you like when we talk i'll dislocate my jaw/what the fuck is wrong with me 15. Matches - Huxlxy bring me the ashes/set me alight/i'd rather burn than say goodbye 16. SICK - Chandler Leighton never let anyone see your guard down/too proud, just stop, keep my frozen/iced out, i'm six feet underground 17. Black Wave - K. Flay shaking in my own cage/what do i believe? i believe/waiting on a black wave/living under bad days 18. Middle Finger - Bohnes you show me love and then spit in my face/making your money off all of my pain 19. still feel. - half-alive when i'm furthest from myself/feeling closer to the stars/i've been invaded by the dark/trying to recognize myself when i feel i've been replaced 20. Rather Die - Barns Courtney i came to kill 'em, now i'm/wipin' the spit from my eyes/i take a beating but i/i'll never give up 21. Lake Effect Kid - Fall Out Boy oh i've got the skyline in my veins, forget your night time/sumer love on a gurney with a squeaky wheel/and joke us, joke us til Lakeshore Drive comes back into focus/i just wanna come back to life 22. Stronger - Kanye West n-now-now that, that don't kill me/can only make my stronger -- do anybody make real shit anymore?/bow in the presence of greatness/cause right now thou hast forsaken us 23. Bulletproof - La Roux, GAMPER & DADONI i won't let you turn around/and tell me now i'm much too proud/all you do is fill me up with doubt/this time, baby, i'll be bulletproof 24. What Do You Want - Nico Vega you can go ahead and hate me/for bringing in news, but you could still choose/ain't going to be a party/but you turn it all down, down, down/say, what do you want?/what do you want from me? 25. I'm Gonna Win - Rob Cantor you've seen me before, you'll see me again 26. Hero - Martin Harrix, JVKE

a thousand voices whisper noise/they plan my fall from grace/whoa-oh, i know/you say you want a hero, you don’t

[aishangotome]

Alfons Sylvatica: Chapter 12

Chapter 11

♡———♡

Stepping inside, a scene unfolded that seemed like another world.

Dazzling light, refracted through the crystals of the chandeliers, welcomed us as we took our seats on a sofa beside Alfons, discreetly eavesdropping on the murmur of conversations.

(It's certainly luxurious, but it just seems like an ordinary bar...)

Perhaps due to the strict entry control, no one seemed to suspect that we weren't members. There were no prying eyes fixated on us.

Waiter: May I offer you a drink?

The waiter was serving an amber-colored liquor. Its smoky aroma hinted at its quality as a fine whiskey.

Kate: I'll...

I was about to decline, knowing it was a strong drink, when Alfons whispered to me.

Alfons: This is a gentlemen's club. Refusing a drink would raise suspicion.

(Oh...)

Kate: .......Alright, I'll have some.

Alfons: I'll have some as well.

Waiter: Very well.

I took the whiskey glass placed on the table and slowly tilted it, lightly wetting my lips.

(Ugh, it's strong...)

But, remembering Alfons' advice, I tried to adopt a masculine demeanor and swallowed it down.

Alfons: Heh.

Kate: Wh-what is it...?

Alfons: Nothing. You did well drinking it as I suggested.

Kate: Oh...

He gave me a sidelong glance and a faint smile, making my heart leap.

My pulse quickened, beating a little faster than usual.

(This must be the effect of the strong alcohol...)

Being next to Alfons is bad for my heart.

When we first met, it was because I felt my life was in danger... But now, my heart is stirred by his every expression and gesture.

(I need to focus on the mission, not Alfons...)

Gentleman with round glasses: It seems that troublesome female journalist is finally taken care of.

The conversation I overheard snapped me back to attention.

Gentleman in plaid: Ah... That woman who was ranting about gentlemen's clubs being hotbeds of corrupt politics. They're finally getting rid of her.

Old Gentleman with blue ring: We are one step closer to a purified society. The younger generation is certainly full of vigor.

Gentleman with round glasses: Oh, please, I am nothing compared to a senior member and parliamentarian like yourself.

Gentleman in plaid: The recent purification of the East End is truly remarkable.

(Did they just say purification of the East End...!)

Alfons: ...

Tension filled the air, and I exchanged a glance with Alfons.

Gentleman with round glasses: But last time, there was some kind of interference...

Old Gentleman with blue ring: Ah, yes. Next time, we'll just change the location a bit...

Old Gentleman with blue ring: We've decided to have the illegal immigrants at the London docks receive the "eternal fire" punishment.

Old Gentleman with blue ring: It's in two days. We've already arranged for the cleaners.

Gentleman with round glasses: As expected of you.

(Eternal fire... punishment...?)

Alfons: Heh, quite a grandiose way to announce arson, isn't it?

(Arson...?!)

A shiver of unspeakable terror ran down my spine.

(If they're really talking about something so cruel...)

Their tone was no different from casual conversation.

As if they didn't think it was evil at all.

Kate: ...Alfons...

Alfons: Yes, I'd like to get some information on him.

Alfons gestured to the waiter from earlier and tapped lightly on the table.

Without a word, the waiter approached us.

(...Alfons knows how to behave in a place like this too.)

(I wonder if he learned it after living as a noble at Lord Elbert's place.)

His decadent and dissolute demeanor in the slums and pubs contrasted sharply with his refined, gentlemanly behavior here.

They were polar opposites, yet both seemed like the real Alfons because he had experienced and embodied both sides.

(I feel like I understand Alfons a little better now.)

(Not that I'm happy about it...)

Immediately denying it had become a habit.

I tightened my cheeks, which had unconsciously relaxed, and watched as Alfons and the waiter interacted.

Waiter: Is there anything I can help you with?

Alfons: Yes. I'd like to invite the gentleman with the blue ring to a dinner party.

Alfons: Could you tell me his preferred drink?

Waiter: Lord Gore, the member of the House of Lords, prefers vodka martinis.

Alfons: Thank you.

Waiter: It's my pleasure to be of service.

Thanks to the waiter, we quickly learned his name.

Kate: (...Lord Gore of the House of Lords.)

Once we have his name, William and Victor will dig up everything there is to know about him through their various information networks.

Kate: ...It's surprisingly easy to get information here.

Alfons: This is a place to facilitate connections between members. Besides...

Kate: Besides?

Alfons: When we entered, I slipped him a rather generous tip.

(What...!)

Kate: That's a bribe, isn't it?

Alfons: I merely prepaid him for his services.

He replied nonchalantly, then downed the rest of my whiskey before finishing his own.

(He drank that strong whiskey twice in a row?!)

Alfons: Let's go.

Kate: Oh, yes...!

I hurried after Alfons as he stood up.

His face, as I looked up at him, was unfazed, as if he hadn't just downed two glasses of whiskey.

Kate: You didn't have to finish it all...

Alfons: I'm a bit of a penny-pincher.

He chuckled, and my heart skipped a beat again... but I pretended not to notice.

-

We left the bar lounge and arrived at a secluded spot.

Kate: What should we do? We have the councilman's name and information about the next incident.

Kate: If we had physical evidence, we could get the police involved, right?

Alfons: Well, yes...

Alfons pondered, his gaze drifting out the window.

His grey eyes, reflecting no light, flickered with a hint of mischief.

Alfons: It would be careless to send a letter with instructions from a place like this where others come and go.

Alfons: I doubt they would do that, but...

Alfons: If this hotel happens to have a private delivery service for VIPs...

Alfons: We might find a letter addressed to the culprit if we search the back room.

-

With a dexterity I couldn't comprehend, Alfons unlocked various doors and slipped into the back room like a wisp of smoke.

(He said, "VIP valuables are usually kept around here," but...)

(How could he know that when it's his first time here...?)

Reaching the room with a sense of disbelief, I saw it—a safe.

And once again, with some unknown trick, he effortlessly unlocked the safe.

--CHOICES--

Who did you learn from?

You're very skilled at this.

Amazing!

--------------

Kate: You're quite skilled at this...

Alfons: Well, it's not my first time.

Kate: Do you have a prior record of theft...?

Alfons: The ability to pick locks comes in handy in various situations. Shall I teach you, Kate?

Kate: No, thank you!

(To think he could open the room's door and the safe so easily...)

Kate: If you were a thief, Alfons, you'd be the greatest thief of the century.

Alfons: Aha! I like that title. Shall I start aiming for it now?

Kate: Please don't.

Alfons: You're half-serious when you stop me.

Alfons chuckled self-deprecatingly.

Alfons: Heh, just kidding. I couldn't be a master thief with just this skill. I just picked up the necessary skills to survive.

Alfons: Well, I basically lived off El's money for a while after we met, so in a way, I was a thief...

His words trailed off as he searched the contents of the safe.

Alfons: ––Ah! My goodness!

Kate: What's wrong?!

Alfons: I found it. A "confidential" letter addressed to Councilman Gore.

Alfons raised an eyebrow and handed me the envelope with a flourish.

The completely sealed envelope indicated that only the addressee should open it.

(To think they'd keep it in a place like this...)

Kate: ...How careless.

Alfons: Well, it might be about something else. Let's borrow this and get out of here.

Alfons: We shouldn't linger after we've got what we need. My illusion won't last long.

––Just then.

???: Who's there?!

(----!)

I turned around to see a man who looked like a hotel employee staring at us with a surprised expression.

(We've been spotted!)

Employee: Intruders! Security!

After his shout, multiple heavy footsteps approached.

Alfons: Hmm, this is not good. I can't cast an illusion to fool him from this distance without touching his neck.

Kate: This is no time to be so relaxed! We have to run... Ah!

In my panic, the letter slipped from my hand.

(Oh no...!)

Alfons: ––Kate?

Kate: The letter!

Alfons: Wait––

The moment I lunged for the letter...

Bang! A dry sound echoed.

(Huh...?)

I looked up, letter in hand.

Alfons was crouching, shielding me from the doorway... and over his shoulder, I saw a security guard aiming a gun.

Smoke rose from the barrel.

(Was that... a gunshot?)

Alfons: ...You're such a goody-two-shoes.

Alfons: You could have just left the letter. Silly girl.

Security Guard: Put your hands up!

Alfons: Alright, alright.

Seeing him raise his hands and stand up, I followed suit in confusion.

(If there was a gunshot, that means... someone was shot...?)

(Where...?)

Security Guard: ...That's good.

The moment the guard lowered his gun, his vigilance relaxed—

Alfons: ––Kate, let's run.

(Huh...?)

Before I could fully grasp his hand, my body was pulled forward.

Security Guard: Wh-?! Wait...!

––Dodging the gunfire, we dashed through the door at the back.

Through the hotel's back room, the kitchen, someone's house, an unfamiliar alleyway... Alfons ran through countless intersections without hesitation—

Bursting into a deserted alley, he laughed loudly.

Alfons: Ha... Ahahaha! Ah, that was amazing.

Alfons: What kind of intruder waits when they're told to "wait"?

Alfons: He's a useless guard.

Kate: Ha... Ha...!

(I'm glad we didn't get caught, but...!)

Kate: This is no laughing matter!

The thought of being hit by a bullet sent shivers down my spine.

Alfons: It's funny, so I laughed.

Alfons: We got the councilman's information and the letter, which might be evidence. The mission was a great success.

Alfons: Your overly clumsy "masculine" behavior was quite cute, too.

His usual chattiness did nothing to calm the unease in my chest.

I couldn't shake the sound of that gunshot.

(At that distance, in that position... It wouldn't be strange if Alfons was hit somewhere.)

Kate: Alfons...

Alfons: Yes?

Kate: ...Show me your body.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 13

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Snake Eyes 4

Warnings: noncon, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: thanks all for reading and I hope you’re excited for this one. All feedback is more than welcome and loved and appreciated. Reblogs are most helpful.

Part of The Club AU

“You’re disgusting,” you say and step away from the shelves, “it’s not worth–”

He catches your arm as you try to skirt around him. You spin to face him and tug on his grip. It’s firm and unrelenting. He smirks as his other hand comes up behind your neck and he forces you close.

“That’s too bad, you could’ve walked out with a good take,” he pinches the muscle along your neck, “as it were, I’m not in the habit of paying for it.”

“Get off of me–”

“Shh, it’s easier if you just go along. Don’t work too hard,” he slithers.

You lash out with your other hand, barely missing his cheek with your nails as he tilts away from your reach. You grunt and throw your fist against his shoulder but the impact is lessened as he squeezes your neck harder. An electric pain zips down your back and you cry out.

“Darling, you think a bit higher of yourself than you should,” he snickers as he turns and walks you backwards, “the number of women I’ve had through these doors, they know when to shut up and take it. They’re wise enough at least to be flattered–”

“You’re gross, get off me–” you whimper as his nails dig into the tendons of your neck. His other hand is on his belt, the buckle clinking loudly.

“Mm, maybe, but I’ve enough money to make up for that,” he winks and you sneer in revulsion. 

He leans in, close. His green eyes sparkle as they fall to the grimace that curls your lips. His tongue pokes out as heat radiates across your cheeks and chest, a storm of mortification and rage. He keeps his hand on his belt. What the fuck is he doing?

“Well, you’ve made your choice, you may walk out empty-handed,” his lips almost brush yours as he speaks, “oh, you will regret that you did not take any benefit from this.”

“I won’t regret shit,” you snarl as you feel his grip loosen and shove him away, “I quit. I’m done with this nest of scum.”

He lets you go and takes a step back. You shove him again, harder and turn on your heel. You clutch your hands into fists and march away, shaking with the surge of adrenaline. The weight of his touch remains heavy along your neck.

Another job gone. You bluster out of the backroom without looking back, his rolling chuckle following you out. Your vision pinpoints and you sense a shadow along the edge but you don’t look over. You’re humiliated enough, you don’t need to see the witnesses.

You pass by the bar as the lights of the bar glare down at you and music pumps, echoing the anger pounding behind your temples. You can’t believe this shit. He’s not the first creep you’ve encountered in the business but dammit if it isn’t exhausting.

“Hey, where–” Thor calls after you.

“I quit,” you bark over your shoulder, “you can thank your brother.”

You don’t hesitate, you don’t look back. Good riddance. You worked at dives less shady than this painted up cesspool.

🐍

Sleep is fleeting. Even after two shots of rum, you can muster more than a morsel here and there, drifting off only to wake in a fit of anxiety. You hate the job search. It’s torture. Putting on a smile when all that should matter is that you know how to mix a goddamn drink.

You relent and wake up. A strong coffee to start your day of defeat. Scrolling the postings is like dredging a swamp for gold. As much as you longed for time off, this wasn’t what you had in mind.

You apply to several of the franchises. Your time at Applebee’s wasn’t awful but the tips were shit. A few upscale places you could never manage an interview at. And out of desperation, a private posting for an event. It wouldn’t be for the long-run but it would get some cash in hand while you wait for something more stable.

You log off before noon. You should try to sleep. You lay down, a bit calmer now that you’ve done a bit of footwork. You pull a pillow over your head. You brush your neck with your fingertips and shudder. Tender bruises dabble across your skin and tinge as you touch them. Asshole.

You wake up around six. Your phone is filled with useless notifications. Not even a call from work. Well, you don’t want to hear from them unless it’s about your final check. Amid the automatic notifications about your applications, there is a single response. Oddly fast but you won’t complain.

It’s from the event host. Seeing as the occasion is only a week on the horizon, you guess it’s not unforeseen. The message is straight to the point.

‘Hello,

Thank you for your application. Upon review of your credentials, we would be interested in discussing this position further with you. Please let us know the best time to arrange an interview.

Best Regards, Sif’

You mull on the offer. It is a bit sudden, not entirely transparent. You’ve been to some strange job interviews. You remember that boat you worked on for a whole two hours and snuck off before it disembarked. 

There is only the description of the event. ‘A private event for wealthy investors’. Corporate, those always go over well and companies do tend to dole out a healthy bonus. What the hell? Beggars, chooser, all that shit.

[noodlenibblescribble]

Episode/Fanfic Suggestion Before The Episode 'Dad Beat Dad'

I LOVE the story beats of Hazbin Hotel, the episodes are pretty good but for these recent two, it felt like we could have had one more ep before them in order to make things hit deliciously harder. Here's my pitch for one:

An episode that starts with Charlie and Vaggie finding one of Angel's drug stashes. They tell him he needs to quit to actually start 'reforming'.

Angel makes the point that the drugs have been his coping mechanism for a long time ('Oh no, yeah sure, let me just quit cold turkey and not need them anymore after years of this shit. So easy.')

Alastor walks in, laughing, saying something akin of 'rehabilitation isn't going to happen, he cane as an addict, he's been an addict, he's going to keep doing it'. It gets in Angel's head, visibly upsetting him. Charlie gets mad at Alastor and tells him that they're going to make it happen.

Charlie makes a lesson plan for the next day about trying to look for alternatives to drugs. It's clear that Charlie's suggestions are a little superficial and out of touch (between grandma activities and health guru stuff, it's not actually helpful).

Vaggie sees Angel get frustrated and suggests doing something *he* might like- 'No it can't be sex or violence, Angel.'

Angel gets a song about finding out what else he can do after years of cycling through the usual bad habits, cute stuff about trying different things he thinks are interesting with the others and having fun with it. He settles on an activity for today (idk maybe trying to draw/paint) and is bantering with Husk about his lack of skill, but you know it's friendly and encouraging.

Charlie looks on with pride, Alastor follows behind her and tells her 'You know he hid more stuff in another location'.

She tells him that Angel was right that morning, it'd be bad to quit cold turkey but she's happy she can help him find other outlets so that he can slowly occupy his time doing other things too; that it's important to keep him motivated to want to change. There are no instant solutions. This is a process and she's proud of his growth.

At Alastor scoffing, she breathes and apologizes to him for getting mad earlier today, but clarifies that even if this is just entertainment for him, she still genuinely believes in it, and the proof is right here. With how much better Angel is doing. It's working. So, she will always believe that with enough patience and kindness, anyone can change. And you know, maybe... even Alastor can.

Alastor laughs maniacally like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard, 'HAHAHAHA ME? CHANGE? WHY WOULD I WANT THAT? HAHAHAHA HOW PREPOSTEROUS!!' but as he steps away, he looks at Charlie joining Angel/Husk/Pentious/Nifty doing their thing, talking to them like a proud teacher and about the plan for tomorrow's lessons, and idk.

His grin drops to a closed smile. 'Hm. Well, this was unexpected.'

And he steps back into the shadows.

~

Imagine Dad Beat Dad and Welcome to Heaven coming after that. Alastor confirming to the audience that Charlie has somewhat won him over and that he likes her like a daughter with more build up. It'd be so extra satisfying that we'd gotten to see firsthand how he's stuck around and actually has started believing in her as opposed to her dad. Plus, it makes Vaggie using 'Angel has less drug hiding spots' sound like an actual win to the audience, and when we see Angel at the club taking care of everyone *chef's kiss* we'd have gotten two Angel development episodes instead of one, seeing him get to that point.

That's it, I'm just throwing this humble proposal to anyone that is like me and wants an idea to better link the last batch of episodes and now. 👍