Fight Club Aesthetic Novels & Stories

He did not want to share her with anyone; okay, St Just was different, but even the thought of his brother and his long, lean hands on Bianca’s soft flesh, made him growl in jealousy. Throwing back his head, he gulped the whiskey and felt the liquid poison burn its way down his throat. He turned suddenly, knowing that he needed to take Bianca, need to see if she had really been the way he had been thinking of all night; or had it all been his imagination. Had her soft c*nt been so tight? Had she really tasted of honey and smelt of roses? * St Just was outside in his large airy office since he had to take care of the new Fight Club they had set up, in collaboration with a new partner from Hol

Mel’s smile faded slightly. “A fight?” I nodded. “He said it was for luck before a fight.” Mel set her spoon down slowly. “Oh.” “What?” She leaned back in her chair. “He probably meant the underground fights.” I blinked. “The what?” Mel sighed. “There’s a fight club under the gym in town.” My eyes widened. “You’re kidding.” “I wish I was.” She shook her head. “Some of the academy boys participate in it.” “Atlas included.” I frowned slightly. “He didn’t seem like a bad person.”

I didn’t care if his gaze made my stomach dance in a fiery pirouette, I needed answers. Ryker leaned against his desk, his arms crossed, and his expression growing darker. “BlackWager Fight Club.” He started, watching me intently. “It’s the name of the place. I have this for a reason. Mason and Jake helped me establish this place. What you saw was not a fight for money. It was a fight for release.” “What kind of release? The fight was painful. What else would people do that for when it’s not for money?” I said, remembering how those two men threw and received the blows.

I shrugged slightly and he immediately lunged forward, fist landing in the middle of the pads that lead to me wincing silently but he went on, delivering more and more punches to the pads with no gaps in between. This was the thing about him, 'Tiger Jae' or so his fans called him, had ferocity in his game, not too much wrath, just a lot of challenge in his eyes and moves. Had I been the actual receiving end of this fight, I would've definitely faltered with how he intimidated people. "Whoa, that was really good Sophie," he smiled, this time the light reaching his eyes indicating that he was out of his fighting trance. Mr. Min backed away slightly out of breath and leaned in one corner while

Roger transforms into a werewolf and roars into Aiden's face. "Hold on, to get to me you need to go through them first, do you know what you're fighting for?" Roger gets more frustrated and rushes at Aiden but another werewolf jumps in between them and digs his claws into Roger's sides. Roger digs his teeth into the Wewolf's shoulder and rips at the flesh. The unknown werewolf lifts Roger up and tosses him across the room. Two werewolves stare each other down while the other wolves howl with excitement at the prospect of lots of blood being spilled. Aiden is still in his human form and calls out at Roger, "Welcome to Werewolf Fightclub Roger, tonight you are fighting for a wonderful prize, J

Still, I can feel something coursing through me. Right now, he is fighting. He fights like a god. The way he moves, the precision with which he hits, the dexterity with which he strikes, there is no clumsiness in his fight, not even when he is attacked, not even when he is outnumbered. He makes combat look so sexy. He has my attackers running in a frenzy, the men who hurt me suddenly run helter-skelter, he gets them all, defeats them all. He reaches for me. He is really tall and insanely handsome. His body is so finely toned I can't believe someone gave birth to this work of art.

I still remembered the night when I had first seen them in that filthy underground fight club, blood on their fists, and murder in their eyes. They were more like two sides of a single blade, each one moving in perfect sync with the other, striking as though they shared the same pulse. They weren’t just street fighters—they were something else, something raw and vicious. I watched as they took down every poor bastard that stepped into that cage, squeezing the life out of their opponents until they lay still on the ground. It was that unity, that unbreakable bond between them, that had caught my eye. Men like that could be molded, given purpose and made useful.

“You look like you can’t wait to kick my ass.” “Why do you say that?” She asked, her perfect brows drawing together, feigning innocence. “Then why are you smiling like that?” He asked, entertained by her little act. “Because I want to.” She said and lifted a proud chin and curled her arm around his bicep. “Let’s go.” *** “Wait, isn’t this a men’s only fight club?” She asked, looking at the title written on the building.

“We haven’t seen them meeting these guys but do you recognise any of them?” Taking his phone I flicked through the picture, apart from the Ducane brothers none of the other men appeared to be familiar. There were three in total, two of them wore black tailored suits. Both looked like they were built from the hands of the gods themselves. There was one that caught my eye, sandy blonde hair, that was styled as if he’d walked off a GQ shoot. He had to be one of the owners of the fight club, along with the other guy in a suit whose back was to us. The third guy looked like he was hired muscle. His muscles bulged making it look as though the black t-shirt he wore was two sizes too small. He wasn’

The only thing I knew how to do. I fought. That's why I was there. The underground fight club smelled like shit. Sweat, blood, and whatever dreams had died there. I was tearing into some poor bastard like I wanted to kill him. The crowd was going nuts, screaming like a bunch of lunatics. This place, hidden deep under the city, was a playground for sick fucks who got their kicks from watching men beat each other to a pulp. Money flowed like water, all stained with pain and suffering. Roman and I, we'd been coming there for years. But that night, it felt different. It was like there was something missing, something off. Or maybe it was just me. Maybe I was the one who was off.