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#i decided to do this since so many of you tagged me in this particular one hehe <333
wabblebees · 8 months
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never never never in my life gonna be able to beat the weirdo theatre nerd allegations. its midnight and for the last few hours ive been (voluntarily of my own free will At No-One's Behest) doing some character research for the show we're working on (which at a certain level is Absolutely Necessary!! but at *this* level is Absolutely Not. lmfao)(and so... ik for a fact if i mention this in rehearsal tomorrow im gonna get a whole lotta blank stares ((or TERRIFIED looks from the freshmen wondering if they should be doing this much work lmao))
but anyway so about 10 minutes ago i found a fucking essay (just 9 pages out of this philological collection from the 60s) that just the idea behind the Very Simple title made me so excited i had to stand up at my desk to start reading it and fully forgot to sit back down until i realized i wanted to start TAKING NOTES..... WHICH I GENERALLY HATE DOING WHILE READING........ BUT IM TOO EXCITED AND DONT WANNA FORGET ANY OF IT.................. SO IM TAKING FUCKING NOTES
but anyway beyond tHAT the thing that actually made me pause to start typing this post though is the fact that just now, four pages in, this essay finally put something into place that ive been puzzling over in my head since i very first read the play which... made me happystim so hard i almost knocked myself out of my fucking chair. hdkdgsjfkfhdgskdgwrdjfk.
so yeah. never beating the nerd allegations. lmao
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champagnefountains · 3 months
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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.
CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.
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Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).
It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief). 
Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.
Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.  
So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud. 
“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?” 
“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan. 
The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.
Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks. 
“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.” 
There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”
A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard. 
“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!” 
Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake. 
“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.” 
“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?” 
For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.
If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.
“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.
“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on. 
Earlier on:
On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.
You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.
Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement. 
“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”  
“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding. 
"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I��m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.” 
You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot. 
“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes. 
“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?” 
Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!” 
“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page. 
“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.
“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.” 
There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.
“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you. 
Currently:
Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear. 
After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.
After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him. 
Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie. 
“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–” 
“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.
As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.
“Oh, fuck no!”
Chapter III - Finale [x]
Thank you for reading!
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thef1diary · 2 months
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Little Big Fan | Fifteen
— Little Big Aftermath [aka the end]
Series Masterlist
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wc: 3k
we’ve made it to the end guys! I just have to say I never thought I’d complete this story and that too fifteen parts of it but to all those who read it and motivated me to keep writing, thank you. While it is the end of the official story, I will continue to take requests for blurbs on specific scenes you’d like to see. However, there won’t be a set posting date on these blurbs, it’ll be out whenever it’s requested and completed. Once again, thank you so much for those who were here since the first chapter, and here’s to more fic series in the future. P.S lemme know if you want to be tagged in the blurbs.
Your frown grew deeper as you turned in the direction your daughter had pointed, unfortunately spotting Tyler. Luckily, he wasn't looking at you two since he was focusing on the podium celebrations about to happen.
"I didn't know daddy was here, mama." Picking Isabella up, you shook your head, "I didn't know either, angel, but let's focus on Max for now okay?"
She gave a nod of agreement and applauded for the drivers, Oscar and Lando in particular, who finished second and third in the race. She did, however, cheer the loudest when Max, as he has done after almost every race this season, stepped onto the top step of the podium.
He was having trouble finding you and Isabella right away in the crowd, and you could see the slightest frown forming on his face until a smile emerged when he succeeded, connecting his gaze with yours.
Isabella giggled as Max held his hand up to wave at her before blowing a kiss in the air in your direction. His behaviour drew Lando and Oscar's attention to you as well, with the former driver rolling his eyes at Max jokingly and Oscar smiling at the interaction.
However, you didn't realize that someone else was also looking at you because your gaze didn't waver away from Max.
The champagne bottles were popped, and this time Isabella was awake to see it all, watching with fascination as it was the first time she was able to see it in person. "I wanna do that, mama," she pointed at the drivers spraying the alcoholic drink, soaking each other's race suits while laughing. "Maybe when you're older, Bella."
"When I'm 7?" She asked, and you chuckled, "a little more than that, sweetheart."
Once the celebrations were over, a huge part of the crowd dispersed, the teams resuming to their usual scheduled routines, preparing for post-race debriefs and other meetings. "Where's Maxy going?" Isabella asked, watching as he was led away by someone clad in a RedBull uniform.
"He's a little busy with interviews, but he told me that he'd come back as soon as he's done," you explained, knowing that Max had a post-race conference and a few other duties lined up.
Isabella huffed, "but he won the race." She rested her head on your shoulder for a moment while playing with a strand of your hair—the habit formed back when she was a few months old.
"Yeah he did, which means he's very famous right now and so many people want to talk to him," you explained and while she nodded in understanding, she still pouted, "I wanna talk to him too."
"Why don't we wait for him inside his driver's room?" You asked, turning around when she nodded.
You had almost reached Max's driver room—a place he had suggested for you and Isabella to stay to wait for him, but pausing in a secluded area as a familiar voice called out, "Isabella!" then heard your name as well. Isabella squirmed in your lap, wanting to get down after seeing Tyler walk up to you both. You sighed, knowing that you'd have to stop and chat.
"Tyler," you greeted, and awkwardness hung in the air for two seconds before Isabella decided to speak up. "Daddy, you said you were busy, what are you doing here?"
Despite her hesitance to stay at her father's place, which she still hasn't done since the day she was discharged from the hospital, she frequently spoke to him over the phone.
Unfortunately for him, Isabella rarely forgets promises. While he was busy playing the "good father" role after your ultimatum, he had make false promises, agreeing to everything she asked for without hearing her out properly. In that conversation, she asked about the promise he made of taking her to a race before she had met Max.
While you and Max had taken her once, she still wanted to experience the thrill with her father since he was the one who introduced the sport to her.
He glanced at you, silently asking if he did in fact claim that he was busy, and frowned when you nodded. "Oh Bella, sweetheart, I didn't know that I would have the time to be here, it was an unexpected decision or else I would've brought you along, but you're here anyways!" He tried to uplift her mood, but instead of hanging on to every word he spoke like she used to do, she just shrugged.
Deciding to divert the topic of conversation, Tyler asked, "did you enjoy the race?" He stepped forward, kneeling down to be closer to her but on instinct, Isabella moved away, clutching on to your hand tightly.
He frowned, once again glancing up at you after noticing her behaviour, but you didn't let an ounce of emotion show on your face. "I'm so happy Maxy won!" She exclaimed, her mood improving for a moment as she thought about him.
Standing up to his full height, Tyler looked at you, "why don't we sit and chat for a moment?" Pressing your lips together in a tight smile, you replied, "I don't think that's a good idea."
He scoffed, then shrugged, "fine, have it your way like always." You were not in the mood to indulge his stupid comments which would eventually lead to an argument, in fact you were here to enjoy the weekend with your boyfriend who you dearly missed in this moment.
His eyes widened briefly when you didn't respond to his comment, wondering how you changed so much in a matter of a few weeks that you couldn't care less about him anymore.
"Hey Bella, why don't you show daddy the caps that you got?" You prompted another topic, that Isabella quickly agreed to. Tyler's gaze remained on you for a moment, understanding that you truly had no intention on speaking to him longer than necessary. The conversations you did have were only necessary due to your daughter, but even those texts and calls started becoming less and less frequent.
Isabella took off her Red Bull cap, which had autographs from Max and Checo, to expose a Ferrari cap with two more signatures from Charles and Carlos, and then a McLaren cap that undoubtedly featured two signatures from Oscar and Lando. She caught up to Lando and Charles, who had given her their hats earlier, as well as their teammates, to obtain signatures. She then wanted to get autographs on her RedBull cap as well. When she asked Max and Checo, they chuckled with the latter claiming she had them all at her beck and call, but they nevertheless signed the cap.
Isabella ended up stacking all three caps on her head because she couldn't choose which one best matched with her outfit. She began explaining the story behind the signatures, and Tyler intently listened, asking a few questions in between as well.
"And then-" Isabella's gaze wandered off, eyes lighting up in excitement as she spotted, "-Maxy!"
Without any hesitation she ran up to him, colliding with him as she tried to wrap her arms around him, earning a low, "oof" from him.
Picking her up and settling her on his hip, holding her up with one arm, he held up his other hand that had a medal hanging from it. Max placed the medal around Isabella's neck, which he received on the podium earlier along with his trophy. "We won, princess," he commented, smiling as wide as she did.
She held both of her hands up, imitating the action Max did as he held his trophy on the podium, causing him to laugh. You watched the interaction with a smile on your face, and could hear their laughter from a few feet away.
Walking towards you as Max was initially planned on doing, he noticed a man next to you, which based on your descriptions was Tyler. He decided to overlook him for now, instead greeting you with a kiss to your cheek.
Tyler held his hand out, "great race, congratulations on the championship. I'm a huge fan by the way." Max, nodded politely, still holding Isabella in his arms but shaking his hand nonetheless. "Thank you," he prompted, waiting for the man to introduce himself to confirm his suspicions.
"Oh, so you're Tyler." Max glanced at you for a moment, watching as you tried to hide your smile behind your hands because of his antics. "Why do you say it like it's a bad thing?" He questioned, and Max was quick to retort, "well, it's not really the best thing now is it?"
"I don't understand," he trailed off, and your boyfriend shrugged, "I figured you wouldn't understand, it's okay," he patted Tyler's shoulder in faux consolation. You had to take a step back so Tyler wouldn't see your expression, placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh.
Tyler was quick to catch on to the condescending tone Max spoke with, looking at you—after you composed yourself fortunately. "So what, you get invited to one race and you guys are best friends now?" He asked, a hint of jealousy you were familiar with revealed in his tone.
"More like she's my girlfriend and they're here to support me," Max clarified. Tyler looked at Max, then Isabella, finally understanding why she was always so enamoured by him.
He scoffed, "oh great, enjoy my sloppy seconds then mate, I will warn you though, it's not worth it because a few months later she'll show you a positive pregnancy test and force you to be a father."
Your jaw dropped, instantly responding, "in front of my daughter?" You glanced at Isabella who was in fact hearing all the words spoken, only frowning due to yours and Max's expressions as she didn't understand the full context of the words her father had said, just knowing that it wasn't good.
Max wiped his hand over his mouth, jaw clenching while his warm gaze turned cold within seconds. "Apologize, now," he instructed, trying to hold himself back from causing a fight.
"Now why would I do that? It's true." Max placed Isabella back on her feet who quickly shuffled over to you, standing behind your legs. "How dare you stand here claiming to be my fan yet talk shit about the person I love?" The driver placed his hand on Tyler's shoulder again, but this time you could see the fear bubbling up in his eyes as his grip tightened.
Still, Tyler managed to scoff, "love? Bold claims there. Sorry to break it to you but she's probably just with you for your mon-" he couldn't finish his sentence because he was punched square in the jaw by your boyfriend.
"Max!" You shrieked, and watching the interaction, Isabella held on to your hands tightly with tears welling up in her eyes. You picked her up again, noticing that Tyler was fuming in anger. "Gonna fucking sue you for that," he spit out some blood, but Max only shrugged, "try me."
Fortunately, you guys were stood in between the team motorhomes, which meant you were slightly hidden away from public eye due to the buildings covering the scene.
Readying himself for another punch if needed, you shook your head, "it's not worth it, Max."
"Yeah Max, listen to your girlfriend," he taunted, angering you in the process. "Will you ever shut up?" You shot back. Max glanced at Isabella who had hid her face in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you. Although he couldn't see her face, he guessed that her eyes were tightly shut.
Nodding as a silent agreement with Max, you decided to walk away from the scene as you didn't want to expose Isabella to any more of this argument than what she has already heard. Glancing at Max once more, you hoped that your expression was indicating something along the lines of, "don't do anything too bad."
However, you could hear Max's words as he began speaking to Tyler, "listen here you little shit..." but you didn't stick around to hear the entire conversation, smiling to yourself knowing that Tyler would finally be put into his place—that too by his favourite driver.
Finally entering his driver's room, you sat down on the couch sighing in relief. Isabella was still in your lap and you ran your hand up and down her back in a soothing motion because you could feel her sniffling against you. "Bella," you murmured, wanting to see her adorable face.
"I'm so sorry you had to see that, sweetheart." You kissed her head before brushing your hand through her hair. You heard her mumble but didn't catch her words, "what was that?"
She lifted her head to look at you, and you frowned seeing the tears staining her cheeks. "Why is daddy so mean? I don't like him."
"Some people are just mean for no reason, and unfortunately, your daddy is one of them," you explained, no longer covering for him knowing that after what Isabella witnessed, she wouldn't want to be near him no matter what you said.
She frowned but didn't respond, leaning her head against your shoulder again. You didn't disturb her peace, knowing that after the eventful day, she needed some quiet time.
Max entered the room a few minutes later, and he smiled to greet you but it fell flat. He pointed at Isabella, then put his thumbs up to silently ask if she was okay, but you shrugged.
"What did you say to him?" You asked, knowing that whatever conversation followed probably wasn't kind. "I told him that I'd ban him from future races if I saw him anywhere near you or Bella, and he left."
You knew that it probably wasn't that easily done, but you didn't ask for more details.
You had thought Isabella fell asleep since she hadn't moved in a while, nor could you see her face, but she lifted her head up to look at Max once she heard some shuffling about in the room.
He paused as soon as his gaze connected with hers, unsure of how to initiate a conversation because he did literally punch her father. Isabella wiggled off your lap, and both you and Max thought that she would walk away further into the room so her next action surprised you both. Running towards Max, she held her arms out, engulfing him in a hug.
"You're better than my dad, Maxy," she muttered, and he audibly sighed, the stress wrinkles on his face disappearing while wrapping his own arms around her smaller frame.
"Thank you, princess," he whispered back, and she pulled back to kiss his cheek. Isabella looked back at you, smiling when she saw you smile as well. "Thank you for taking care of my mama," your daughter told Max, and his heart warmed at her words. "Always."
The ring of your phone interrupted the beautiful sight in front of you, but your eyes widened when you saw that it was your mother calling. As soon as you pick it up, you're greeted by hearing your full name.
"Hi, mum," you stood up and walked further away just in case you were about to get a scolding although you had no idea what you could've possibly done. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked.
"Tell you what?" You answered with a question of your own, knowing that she could be referring to anything at the moment. "That you have a boyfriend."
Your mouth dropped open, "how do you know that?" She chuckled, "because a friend of mine called me and told me that she just watched you kiss someone on live television, some racer guy."
Covering your mouth with your hand, you thought back to the moment Max kissed you in front of the huge crowd after getting out of his car, and of course there had to be cameras capturing the moment. "Max, he's a Formula 1 driver," you explained.
"Wait, the same Max that Bella talks about?" You hummed, "the same one."
"I'm glad you finally moved on from your daughter's father, but I'm also sad that you didn't tell me sooner and I looked foolish because I didn't know until my friend told me about it."
"I'm sorry, I didn't think my relationship would be broadcasted live. Plus, I think the chapter with Tyler is finally over, for both me and Isabella."
"That's good to hear, she doesn't deserve a father like him. Is Max good to you?"
"He's the best to both of us, she lights up with joy every time she sees him." Your mother hummed as she heard your response, "then me and your father have to meet him one day."
You heard some laughter in the next room where Max and Isabella were, and you smiled at your mother's words, "I hope we can come by soon, I'd love to introduce him to you and dad."
After saying goodbyes and promises to meet soon, you returned to the room Max and Isabella were in, pausing in the doorway at the sight in front of you. Just like how Isabella was sitting in your lap earlier with her head against your shoulder, she did the same to Max.
You were about to make your presence known when you heard your daughter's question. "Maxy, why do you call me princess?"
Max's gaze found yours, always finding you whether you were standing in the corner of the room or in a crowd. "Because your mama is the queen," he responded casually, as if he was stating a fact.
Isabella lifted her head, "does that make you the king?" He shrugged, "I guess it does."
She giggled, "and does that mean we get a happily ever after like the storybooks?" Max reached his hand out towards you, asking you to join them which you obliged to easily.
"Ours is better than the storybooks," he stated, placing a kiss on Isabella's forehead before pecking your lips briefly.
The End.
Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @wonnou @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago
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ratskinsuit · 3 months
Note
Could u do a pegging lucifer fic? And the (dom gn) reader is being extra mean to him and just degrading the shit outa him, and he’s just kinda crying begging for praise
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Fucked Dumb
A/N: feels like forever since I wrote a smut fic lol. Times flying byyyy, sorry i haven’t been good with request recently I’ve just been working on my Ocs (plz I have so many I need to stop) and school blah blah blah. Hope you enjoyed!
Tags: Also consent is not states here but it was stated before you two do have a system, Aftercare is slightly mentioned, smut, pegging, nsfw, begging, brain fuck, sub Lucifer x reader, lil bit of blood play? (I think- idk reader licks up some blood from his chin)
MDNI
——————————————————————— P-lease agh- ha ah.. ngh darling PLE-ase…” Lucifer sobs, tears streaming down his face as you slam into him. His breath heavy.
You have him on the edge of the bed, legs spread as your strap pounds in and out of him at a fast pace.
All day he was begging for you to touch him, knowing you were busy with some important work. He kept persisting, sitting in your lap, “hugging” you from behind as he sits against you. Walking around in stupidly tight clothes.
You breaking point however was at the end of the day, when he was testing you all through a work call you had. Running his fingers up and down your thighs, holding your hand, slowly inching it towards his hard on.
So as soon as the call ended you slammed him against the mattress, his face going red with surprise, having not expected it.
You tied his hands together and left him there to go get your strap. A couple minutes later your fucking his brains out while he’s sobs on hour dick. Bringing you to now.
“Oh no no no. You w-anted to be a little fucker all day, practically humping me every time you got close enough. So now take it bitch.” You hiss, a particularly hard thrust earning a wail from the ruined man under you.
Lucifer’s hands are tied together above his head with a pretty red ribbon. It’s tight enough to keep him from wiggling but not enough to cut his circulation.
His hair is sweaty, sticking to his forehead and jutting out everywhere. Sweat drips down his face. His eyes are rolled back, twitching and blown out. His eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration, going from relaxed to tense every other second.
His mouth is wide open, your almost convinced a fly will go into it. Drool is running down his chin, flying everywhere as moans and begging tumble out. What he’s begging for; I don’t think even he knows.
“Pl- darlin- agh hng…AH hA! Fu-uck Hng…” Lucifer lets out a wail as you hit a particular spot inside of him, causing the sheets he’s gripping to rip.
He’s sobbing, as you continue to mash up his insides. He shudders, letting out an in-human sound as he orgasms for the 5th time this night.
“That’s five fu-cking times this night whore… hah… fuck, god that’s just sad. I’ve only come once? Needy bitch.” You tease as he writhes and shakes the bed, his orgasm washing over him.
He’s already came so much tonight, but still has more, coating the two of you.
He sputters, begging for a break as he can’t make out sentences. You watch as the king of hell moans and cries beneath you.
The sheets are ripped up under his hands, eyes completely rolled back. You see a trail of blood leaking from his mouth, and lean forward, licking it up with a swipe of your tongue.
You lean to him, forcing him into a hot kiss, that he tries to reciprocate but all he does is tangle his tongue with yours and drool all over himself.
You let out a laugh as you speed up, Lucifer choking on his own spit under you. “Fu-ck your so dumb-fucked you can’t even kiss you properly.
As quick as it had ended he tenses and cums again on his own chest.
“Dar- AH fu-hng… ple- I can- n’t hm.. m’be… been s’ch a goo-agh- good boy… plea-SE” He pleads at you, desperate for some relief.
You decide to take pity on him, and finish yourself off. You know he can take degradation but sometimes when he’s so far into subspace he gets really upset if you do it go much.
“Du-ont worry honey, your doing amazing, give me one m-more okay darling? M-..I wanna c-cum to, is that okay pr..etty boy?” You coo at him, and he nods frantically as you speed up,
“can- m’ make.. you cu- OH.. plea- you c-cu..m”he tries speaking but fails and you just shush him, untying his hands quickly. As soon as the are free he grabs your hand with one and squeezes tightly, the other going to your waist.
He’s babbling by this point, words and curses stringing together in noncence sentences, while you praise and coo at him. “Doing g-great my love, handsome boy. Go-nana make me come so hard…since your doing so-o amazingly..” he whimpers, reaching for your face and you lean and kiss him.
Him, having just cum, and you having been edging up to it. The two of you reach your orgasm quickly. You are locked in a kiss right as it hits you both like a freight trains.
Lucifer falls back, twitching and shuddering violently with his mouth wide open in a silent scream. You shake with your and collapse on top of him as you relish in the aftershocks.
After a couple of seconds, you sit up and pull out of him, him whincing a bit.
You throw the strap off to the side and go to the edge of the bed by Lucifer head. You push his hair out of his face and soothe his burning skin.
“You did so great my love, are you okay?” You ask, Lucifer gives a little nod. “Mhm’ I… agh fuck, can’t hng… feel my legs…” you giggle and crawl in next to him.
Even though the two of you were very sweaty, you held him as he closed his eyes, the two of you embraced together. “M…love you..” he murmurs, and you give him a kiss.
———————————————————————
A/N: As said in my other post I will be busy for a while after this, not going on hiatus just slow updates. I just wanted to get this out because I had it halfway done. Hope you enjoyed!
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months
Text
fairy porn crisis
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'bookstore au' wc: 964 rated m cw: dirty talk, implied sexual content tags: bookshop owner eddie, steve is having a sexuality crisis but subtly, flirting, getting together, modern au
📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖
"Thanks for covering for me, Wayne," Eddie said as he set his bag down behind the front desk, slightly out of breath from running from the bus. "Won't happen again."
"'S alright, son. Everything go okay with the counselor?" Wayne sipped from his mug, probably his fourth or fifth cup of coffee since he opened the shop that morning.
"Yep. Still on track to graduate in May."
Wayne's stipulation when he "sold" the bookshop to Eddie was that he still get his degree as backup. "Bookselling is a dangerous game and I won't have ya strugglin' if somethin' fails."
"Thatta boy," Wayne clapped him on the shoulder. "Been a slow morning. But your favorite customer is in the back."
Eddie felt his face heat up.
"He's not my favorite."
"Sure he isn't." Wayne rolled his eyes. "I'm off to get a beer with Dave. Call if you need me."
Eddie gave him a thumbs up as he checked over his emails, the one thing Wayne was terrible about doing when he was covering the store. There weren't many, never really were on Tuesdays.
He waited for Wayne to leave, the door chiming with his exit.
He jumped up and made his way around the counter, walking towards the back room hastily.
He found Steve sitting on the beanbag placed in the corner, book in his lap, face bright red.
Eddie squinted until he could see what book he was reading and nearly passed out.
His Ring was the first book in a series focused entirely on a group of queer mythical creatures. It was the only book of the series Eddie had read, and he'd only admit it under risk of death.
It wasn't that it wasn't good. It's just that it was basically porn.
And this one in particular focused on two male fairies, one who was gay and one who spent the entire first half of the book having a bisexuality crisis.
Steve was reading it with the prettiest blush on his face.
Steve, who up until this moment, passed as the straightest human being Eddie had ever met.
"Have you gotten to the part where Ereldi has to sit on Brelend's lap for an entire dinner?" Eddie asked.
Steve jumped and slammed the book closed, pushing it under his legs as if Eddie hadn't already called him out. "What are you talking about?"
"Stevie, I'm the last person to judge your reading habits. But I do have to ask why the sudden interest in queer fairy porn? You're usually reading sports memoirs and doing word searches."
In other words, 'are you interested in testing out your sexuality with me? I can pretend to be a mythical being if needed.'
"Just needed a change of scenery?"
"Are you asking me or telling me?"
Steve's blush deepened, and fuck, Eddie was about to be so unprofessional. Hopefully he wouldn't lose a customer over it, but it was a risk he had to take.
It's just that sometimes Eddie could swear Steve was watching him while he shelved books or swept the front room floors. And sometimes he caught him staring at him during his weekly storytime for kids where he gave out free books and cookies.
And Eddie always wanted to have Steve in his lap.
So.
"I." Steve refused to make eye contact, a sure sign that something was going on. "I just got curious. Heard someone talking about it and wanted to see if they were telling the truth."
"And were they?"
Steve didn't answer, so Eddie decided it was now or never.
"You know," he took a few steps closer to Steve. "I'm not usually one for those books. But there's something about the way they paint a very clear picture of how Ereldi rides Brelend in the forest that just draws me in." Another few steps. "Actually, Ereldi reminds me a bit of you."
Steve visibly gulped.
"But you wouldn't be interested in riding someone would you, Stevie? Prefer women to hop onto your lap and go for a ride?" Eddie's heart was racing.
And then it stopped completely when Steve gave the most unexpected answer he could have possibly given.
"I'd be interested in riding you."
Steve's wide eyes stared back at Eddie, daring him to make a joke, daring him to laugh.
Eddie wouldn't joke or laugh about this. He wasn't wasting this chance.
"Is the forest a requirement or could I go lock the front door and take you upstairs?"
Okay, so he couldn't not make a little joke.
"Forest sounds messy. Upstairs."
"Oh, I plan to make a mess of you regardless of location, sweetheart," Eddie leaned over Steve, foreheads touching, smirk growing as Steve's eyes closed. "Won't even have to get you hard, huh? The book did all the work for me."
Steve tilted his head back, lips puckering, searching for contact from Eddie's.
Eddie pulled away. "I close up in ten. You know the way upstairs?"
Steve's eyes blinked open as he nodded.
God, he was gonna be fun.
"You wanna be a good boy and wait for me up there?" Steve nodded and stood from the chair, wobbling slightly as he tried to gain his balance. "I want you naked in bed when I get up there, got it?"
"Um, I've never-" Steve started.
"Oh, sweetheart. I know. It's written all over you. I'm gonna take real good care of you, though. Better than anything you would read in that book."
"Eddie?"
"Yeah, sugar?"
"I really like you."
Eddie heard what he wasn't saying, knew without a doubt that he had to do this right or risk scaring him away from more than just the store.
"I really like you, too, Stevie." Eddie kissed his cheek. "You're in good hands."
"I know."
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d6volution · 6 months
Note
okay so like, what about a reader that also goes into heat? And as soon as Jax finds out (while he himself is also in heat) he just breaks into readers room while reader happens to be humping a pillow and just fucks them raw then and there. (Breeding kink maybe?-)
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decided to put these two asks together since they were similar, 🤭
tags: heat cycles, breeding kink, overstim, manhandling, tail pulling, cursing, crying, rough sex. kinda mean jax. (fem reader)
Usually Jax was more or less good at hiding his heat. After all there was no way in hell he planned on letting anyone get the jump on him about this. It'd probably become the main topic of conversation among the circus, seeing as everyone has nothing else to do here.
The only downside was he'd be bored completely out of his mind being stuck in his room. It was a better alternative to pouncing any living creature that walked and trying to fuck it raw though. So he'd have to deal with the boredom for the time being.
Days went by, and Jax spent his time rutting into his fist and hand to take the edge off. But it never satisfied him. It was honestly humiliating how many times he jacked off in one day just to feel a piece of normalcy. So not only did he have to deal with being trapped here, but every once in a while, he had to go through this torment. With no one to relieve him, but.. well him.
It did occur to him that maybe others may have had this problem, like you, for example. The new girl, you had two ears that sprouted from your head and a tail as well. But as far as he's concerned, you've been perfectly fine. It wasn't fair. What kind of sick joke was this anyway?
A day trudged by, and luckily enough Jax wasn't bothered by any of the other members. Which was great considering he was preparing to fuck his fist once again .. until. A very particular smell hit his senses. All of the sudden his pupils were blown wide. "What.. is that.." He muttered to himself , absolutely confused yet intrigued by this scent drawing him in. Made his dick throb in his pants.
He had tunnel vision now and had to find the source, maybe it was the cure he needed to get rid of this damn feeling.
"Not now Kinger, don't got the time." He said once he opened the door to leave his room. Kinger was standing there waiting to knock but Jax walked right past him. Kinger hunched over in disappointment.
Jax walked past a few doors in the large corridor, he knew he was getting closer as the scent grew stronger.
"Huh." Jax scoffed, arriving in front of your door after following the scent here, it was so overwhelming that his instincts took over again and he opened the door slipped inside , and closed it behind him immediately... and there you were , the room full of your scent. Jax shuddered, watching you hump a pillow on your bed, whining and gripping at it in need. Ears flat against your head. He watched for a moment in silence. His dick throbbing and straining against his overalls.
"H.. Hey, doll—" He said and cleared his throat his throat, trying to interrupt your little session. He was still quite surprised you didn't hear him come in.
"Hhn.. J.. Jax? Please.. I need help.. I.." You were too dazed, too drunk on lust to care that he barged in. "I don't know whats wrong with me.."
"The pillow not cuttin it doll? You know I can help ya.." You both were like animals in heat... literally.
You weren't even aware you could go into heat until now, and it was driving you insane. You came so many times that your cunt was sore and puffy but it wasnt enough. You needed something inside, you needed to be bred. Full of someomes young. Jax's young.
"Jax.. please..." You whined, and positioned yourself in such a way that Jax almost came in his pants immediately. Your ass was in the air, two fingers pushing your puffy lips apart to show off the wet needy hole in between your legs.
"Don't gotta ask me twice," Jax climbed onto the bed , in the process pushing his overalls off his shoulders and pulling his heavy cock from its confines. You both were far from needing foreplay, he needed a hole to fuck and you needed to be filled. "You always this wet.. its like you pissed your pants or somethin'.." He jokes, teasing his angry throbbing tip against your slick.
"Ah.. J.. Jax, I've only used m'fingers before so— nnhg..!!" He slammed all the way inside, burying himself to the hilt in your cunt. You squirmed beneath him, as the wind was knocked out of you.. there was a tinge of pain but overwhelming euphoria. "S.. So d...deep hha.." Your fingers clawed at the blankets beneath you.
Jax's self-control was thrown out the window as soon as he was buried inside of you. He used his hand to push your face into the mattress. His mind is now filled with, "Breed, breed breed."
The panting bunny was forcing your back to bow in a steep arch, giving him acess to dig deeper into your cunt. You gasped and continued to squirm, whining that it was 'too much, too big'.. until your words turned into incoherent babbles. As Jax refused to stop humping into you.
"Too much? Nah, doll sit here and take it. I've been dealing with this for way too long for you to back out now... ghn..." You were squeezing him so tight, sucking him in. You were made for this. Made for him.
"J.. Jax pleas.. nnh.. senstive..!" You wailed, tears welling up in your eyes. Ypur poor body was jerked forward each time he thrusted into you.
Your body was at war with itself, Jax was battering against your most senstive spots.. it was so good but too much at the same time. You felt like your brain was melting. Maybe you should just give in, get bred and maybe you wouldn't have to worry about a thing after that.. right? He'd take care of you.. and your babies.
Jax's voice pulled you out of your head, and back to reality. Suddenly your body was buzzing and the feeling of Jax's thick dick pummeling inside of you was real again.
"J—Just stay still sweetheart, it isnt that hard. Heh, maybe this is what ya get for letting someone.. l-like me into your room at a time like this..heh.." He grunted, eyes hovering over your form before his gaze rested on your tail. He grinned wide before yanking it and forcing your ass to perk up a little towards the air. You yelped and convulsed around his dick, orgasming immediately from him manhandling your tail.
"J..Jeez, doll..!" He spoke through gritted teeth, your slick insides clamping down on him as he humped you through your climax. Jax had to hold on though, he wasn't quite ready to cum yet. "Wonder how many times you can do/that.." He yanked your tail again, and just like that you were squeezing him.
It was pure bliss for him, "There ya go, just like that.. ngh.. k-keep squeezing on my dick babe... gotta get you pregnant after all.." The words left his mouth carelessly.
Jax didn't care that you were overstimulated, no it was too late for that. You were the answer to this problem, his perfect little slut, and he'd do this as many times as he needed to.
Who else could you go to that would take care of you like this?
"Tell me you want it baby, c'mon.." He urged into your ear. Jax gave your tail a rest, instead opting to pull your hair. Yanking your head from the pillows so he could hear you.
"W.. Want your cum Jax..! Wa.. Wanna get pregnant please..!" You whined and he throbbed in your cunt, grunting in pleasure. "Yeah, I'll get you pregnant babe, you'll be nice and r-round f'me.."
The sound of that made him snap finally, he couldn't hold it in anymore. "S.. Shit, doll—" His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you towards him. Your back was flush to his stomach as he pumped his cum inside of you. Stil thrusting even when he stopped cumming.
"There ya go.. can't waste a drop.. or who knows, maybe we can doll. You can go another few rounds, can't ya..?"
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beetlejuicyy · 6 months
Text
Payback
Part 1 • Part 2
Bebe Gang AU
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Pairing: Gang member! Bada x reader
Synopsys: Bada takes you with her to a party. Her mistakes cost your safety as you're kidnapped by Wolf'Lo.
Warnings: none
Notes: im back!!! ive been wondering how to make this story more interesting so i hope you enjoy being kidnapped by chocol? hope you enjoy as always
Masterlist
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“That’s actually not as bad as I expected.” Bada sighed in relief when you came out of the room. She was lying down on your bed, scrolling through her phone while she waited for you to decide on what to wear.
“Do you mean I don’t know how to dress?” You asked. Still, you posed in front of her earning a wide and loving smile.
“No, I mean I thought you’d choose something more…” Bada waved her hand through the air as if searching for the word. “Racy? Is that a word?”
“So you thought I’d be a slut the very first time you actually include me in your mafia activities?” Bada rolled her eyes at you, as you checked your outfit in the mirror again.
“Don’t romanticize that.” She let the phone drop on the mattress as she walked behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and looking at both of your reflections in the mirror. “I just know that I have a gorgeous girlfriend.”
“I can’t kick your ass in laser tag in a cocktail dress after all.” You said.
Your girlfriend had been very spontaneous when she asked if you wanted to go with her to a chill get together at one of the guys’ house that night. They were going to get a special delivery of laser tag guns and it was gonna be fun, she promised. You were almost euphoric when you heard her. Somehow, it felt like Bada was being more serious about your relationship, since she was willing to bring you in the middle of her friends.
You were anxious though. In the back of your mind you couldn’t completely ignore the fact that some of those people were dangerous. Of course, not to you in particular since you were Bada’s plus one. The people she introduced you to were a few sweet girls that, between dancing classes, were buying and selling guns and weapons on the black market. Your girlfriend was the one administrating this whole deal, and it took you a bit of time to wrap your head around the idea that the very dance academy they were working at was basically a money laundering scheme.
When you finally arrived to the place, you were left speechless. Bada grinned as she was undoing her seat belt.
“Am I in a rich people drama?” You mumbled to yourself and she giggled because that had been her reaction too when she came for the first time. Now it was quite obvious that you were at the head of the gang’s house. Because it was more of a mansion. It made sense now, how they could play laser tag at home with that much space. You got out, anxious knowing you were about to meet so many new people. But you were happy because Bada would be next to you at all times.
The moment you got in you noticed how something in her attitude changed. Of course, you thought, around all these people she was something other than the sweet and playful girlfriend. From the moment you saw her outfit, black ripped jeans, a tight crop top, a black and white racer jacket and a black cap, you thought she looked cool. There were times when she would effortlessly look like a model no matter what she put on and your heart fluttered knowing you could call this gorgeous girl yours. But now, in a room full of guys with sleeve tattoos and girls who looked like they could beat those very guys up, Bada had a much more imposing posture and an ever cooler air to her. She greeted a lot of people, high-fived some, said a few jokes here and there as you were making your way to the kitchen. She introduced you to everyone you met on your way but you would forget the names as soon as another person would pop out of nowhere. Some people would play cards at a table, others would do shots or play on the gaming consoles. In a room to the right you saw a ping pong table. You tried your best not to look at them in an inappropriate way, knowing you’ve never been to this kind of big parties with this kind of people before. But, as Bada was pulling you by the hand through the people, you knew you looked like a confused deer in the headlights and it was obvious by the way some people would look at you from head to toe that they knew you were an outsider.
The kitchen was thankfully not as crowded, except for some people who would just come and go occasionally. The chairs around the kitchen table were missing so you looked around awkwardly, not knowing how you should sit or act. Bada crouched down, opening a cabinet and reaching out to grab a can of beer for each of you. It looked like it was a secret place, because she waited for two guys to lesbe the kitchen disappointed they didn’t find any more alcohol in the fridge. You hopped on the table, finding it a decent spot to sit, as she leaned against the counter in front of you. You gulped down the beer, realizing how refreshing it finally felt to lessen the tension in your body.
“Someone was thirsty.” Bada said, looking at you and it seemed that only now when you were sitting on that table she noticed how good those low waist cargo pants were hugging your hips. You noticed her eyes quietly taking their time, resting on your bare shoulders as you were wearing that off the shoulder T-shirt she loved on you.
“It’s your fault for looking like that.” You said and she grinned, coming closer to you. She leaned over you, her hands placed on the table at your sides supporting her weight.
“We just got here.” She said and the visor of her cap pushed against your forehead playfully.
“Are we interrupting something?” Lusher asked, obviously knowing the answer already. Bada pulled back and fixed the cap on her head with both hands and you looked the other way in embarrassment. The girls giggled and Bada leaned against the counter just like before, folding her arms in an awkward gesture. She was always close to her girls, you knew that much, but she would always get shy when they would see her crossing the intimacy boundaries with you.
As Lusher, Tatter and Sowoen walked into the kitchen you noticed they were wearing the same jacket as your girlfriend. They really looked like a gang from the movies now. They chatted with you for a while, making sure you felt comfortable and spilling some tea on the people around. You also found out from them that Minah, CheChe and Kyma were on their way to bring the main attraction of the night, the laser tag guns. It was on Bada’s orders, Tatter said, because she trusted them enough to let them deliver some real guns to another gang in the area on their own. They must have already finished the exchange and should have been on their way with the toy guns for the party. You looked at your girlfriend who was rather silent, enjoying to simply watch over her girls chatting. Bada was a very good leader for them, you thought.
Dragged by Sowoen, all of you went to play some games. She was very excited because, apparently, it was her first time at this kind of party too, although she was more laidback and carefree than you since she was familiar with most of the people. It was impressive to see how every time you got close to some group people would greet Bada first and immediately offer to make room for you or simply give up the game for your sake. It happened with Xbox, twice with ping pong and some guys rushed to bring more chairs for you around the table where they were playing cards, even if you were just watching. Lusher winked at you playfully almost like saying I-told-you-so without words. You’ll see how popular Bada unnie is. She had told you in the kitchen. More than popular, you were amazed by how respected she was. She would only decline the favors once, in a very cheerful tone, mostly because that was the polite way. However, they would insist and she would always find a place for you first, then sit right next to you. Now she was playing cards with a few guys and you were quietly sitting next to her.
Outside, you could see a group of people smoking something thicker than the usual cigarettes and you guessed it was cigars. Tatter had told you there was no reason to feel out of place here, after all a lot of people were coming with their plus one. Looking around, you noticed a few couples getting a bit too touchy. You saw two girls hurrying up the stairs holding hands to what you assumed would be a bedroom.
“I’ll go take some air.” You leaned to whisper in her Bada’s ear and she only nodded, looking very concentrated on the cards in her hands.
“I’ll finish here and I’ll come too.” She replied.
The night air was cold but refreshing after spending so much time around so many people. It was almost midnight when you checked the time on your phone and decided to stay on the terrace where those guys had smoked before leaving. You could see Bada through the window, although she didn’t know you were watching her. You saw Lusher walk towards one of the guys and grab him by the hand, cards falling from his sleeve. Your girlfriend slammed her cards against the table laughing. She took her cap off her head and brushed her fingers through her hair, a habit of hers that you found very sexy. As grateful as you were that she brought you there with her, you really wanted to go home and get laid. Or maybe there was an empty room for the two of you right there.
At some point you heard the engine of a car, then you saw Bada stand up and joyfully greet someone you couldn’t see. Now she wasn’t in your view anymore but you guessed that Minah, CheChe and Kyma were finally joining the party with the long awaited laser tag guns. The music was still loud and you had no idea what was happening but you knew your girlfriend would come for you when she was done, as she promised. Besides, it was such a pretty night and you rarely got to be outside this late.
“The party’s inside.” You heard an unfamiliar voice and realized you’ve been too lost looking at the stars. At an arm’s length away from you was a woman with orange toned hair and brown eyes piercing through yours.
“I was… taking some fresh air.” You said, startled. It was almost terrifying to you that she could get so close without you noticing.
“You’re not from here, are you now?” She asked, a grin curling at the side of her lips. She took one hand out of her pants’ pocket in a greeting gesture, closing in the distance between the two of you. “I’m Chocol.” Her voice was low and relaxed and for a moment you thought that you shouldn’t be talking to people without Bada around.
“I’m y/n.” Pressured by the social expectations or simply by Chocol’s persuasive look you took her hand and answered appropriately.
“You really are not from here.” She repeated, making your heart beat faster. You felt threatened for some reason, although her voice was gentle and she never showed any intention of harming you. From her reaction, you could tell that your choice to take her hand and introduce yourself was the wrong one.
“I haven’t seen you around either.” You said, although it didn’t mean much. She let go of your hand.
“There’s a lot of people here tonight.” She shrugged off your comment and you couldn’t argue. “Let me guess. You’re… someone’s plus one?” Chocol asked. A part of you wanted to run back inside. But she gave you no reason to – besides her pressuring stare as if trying to read your mind.
“Yeah I’m here with Bada.” It seemed like the safest thing to do in that moment. You had just witnessed how respected your girlfriend was amongst all those people. Dropping her name would be your easy way to get rid of this uncomfortable situation.
“Really?” She grinned. She was quite good looking, you thought. Your instincts were telling you something was off but if you thought about it she had done nothing wrong. Maybe you were exaggerating. “You should stick around her then.”
You only nodded in agreement, hoping the conversation would end here. Maybe you would both go inside. The music volume inside the house lowered all of a sudden. You found it odd.
“Who knows what alpha males started fighting now.” Chocol yawned, noticing you looked worried. “I wouldn’t go inside.” She said, as if she could read your mind. She seemed to know a lot of things, after all it was obvious she was part of this world.
But she also told you to stick around your girlfriend. You pondered on those words for a moment. It had been a while since you were out and Bada said she would be coming for you but she hadn’t. Now it looked like something was going on inside and maybe that was keeping her busy. You decided to look for her.
Just when you were taking your first step towards the door, you felt Chocol’s hand grab you by the wrist. The sound of a familiar hip hop song was gradually getting closer and louder as a car passed the front gates. Before you could react, Chocol had both your hands behind your back and a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t let out a sound.
“Sorry babe. You’re just collateral damage.” She said and, as your back pressed against her body, you felt the rough edges of the gun she had under her jacked.
***
Bada was growing bored with the game. Maybe it was more rewarding to have you by her side as she flexed her popularity and skills because ever since you went outside she wasn’t really into it anymore. Lusher noticed it and did her a favor by pointing out the obviously cheating player and everyone dropped their cards. A few words about the situation were exchanged and then she could finally join you. By the time she was ready to excuse herself, three girls came in, followed by two guys carrying a large and seemingly heavy container. People got excited, the main attraction of the night was finally here.
On her way to you, Bada decided to welcome her girls and congratulate them for their first independent deal. She was always with them, guiding and protecting especially the younger ones, but it was time to put her trust in them, although some unfriendly voices had told her it was too early. Minah was experienced enough, she argued, to take CheChe and Kyma and seal a simple deal. After all, the biggest advantage Bada’s girls had was that, looking at them, no one would think they were smuggling guns. On many occasions their innocent faces and charms fooled the police and mafia alike.
“Look who’s here!” Bada’s excited voice covered the noise as she opened her arms to welcome the three girls in a warm hug. She was proud of them and they started talking over each other about who they met, how everything went and how scary Minah looked when she was serious. They laughed together as the guys put the container on the floor with a loud thud and opened it. “What’s wrong?” Bada asked as the murmur of people grew quiet and the mood seemed to change around them.
“These are not laser tag guns.” One of the guys said. Stepping closer towards the box to see with her own eyes, she felt her heart stop for a moment, realizing what was going on.
“Girls?” She asked hesitantly but they were already next to her, wide eyes looking down at the container full of pistols. “What are these?” She asked, in a scolding tone. However, it was obvious that more than mad she was growing worried.
“It’s… the delivery for Wolf’Lo.” Minah said in a low voice.
“And what did you deliver?”
“If the real guns are here…” CheChe muttered but the pressure of everyone watching, witnessing a mistake like this was too pressuring to let her finish the sentence.
“Didn’t you open the container in front of them? Who picked them up?” Bada inquired. She had thought that it was an easy task, they never had issues with the girls from Wolf’Lo and besides she was friends with Yeni Cho, who assured her she would pick up the delivery. Everything was supposed to go smoothly, it should have been an opportunity for her youngest members to gain confidence and experience on their own.
“Yeni Cho said it’s not necessary… That she trusts us.” Minah answered.
“You’re supposed to do it no matter what.” Bada said between clenched teeth. “You just sold toy guns to one of the biggest and oldest mafia network in the country.” She knew she had to do some damage control. Give some calls, assure people it was a genuine mistake. Although, in this world, people rarely cared. She only prayed that Yeni had the sense to check the guns before taking them to her team. The music coming from the speakers was long paused. As she was pondering in silence on what was the best approach in the situation, the growing sound of a hip hop track signaled they had company.
“I’ll handle it.” Bada said when a few friends of hers showed their support, ready to fight if necessary. Things had to be clarified as calmly as possible.
She stormed outside the house with more people following behind, the sound of charging guns clicking alongside their steps. Bada was grateful that you were not there at the moment, you were safer this way.
A black SUV pulled up right in front of the house. It was indeed the source of the loud classic hip hop song that stopped once the engine of the car stopped as well. Bada’s fists clenched as three people got out of the car and walked towards them in an almost insultingly relaxed manner.
“Bada Lee, now you have the decency to show up.” The woman walking at the front said in a cocky tone. She had short bleached blonde hair and an annoyed grin. Behind her, a girl with brown hair and gentle features was standing awkwardly, a totally opposite attitude.
“You know it was a genuine mistake, Halo.” Bada said with a calm and conciliatory tone. Halo only clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Yeni, tell her.” She pleaded. The brown haired girl kept looking down at the ground, gulping in guilt.
“Where there’s respect there’s no room for mistakes.” The third person said, a tall lanky even more threatening woman than Halo although she was half a step behind her.
“Tell her, Yeni.” Halo said mockingly. “Isn’t Baby Sleek right? Where’s the respect?”
They were just three women in front of tens of people with Bada in the front but, besides Yeni, the other two didn’t seem scared or intimidated. On the contrary, the power dynamic was the opposite of their numbers, judging by their attitude.
“We have your guns. We can give them to you right away. This misunderstanding can be settled.” Bada tried not to let herself be intimidated. Underneath the visor of her cap her eyes were piercing directly into Halo’s eyes. The more you showed them your fears, the easier they won. That was the first lesson she learned on the streets.
“And how do you settle the moral damage this misunderstanding has brought on us?” Baby Sleek asked back. Halo only nodded in approval.
“You must know that it is a very humiliating gesture. You sent your kids to meet our people and didn’t even bother showing up. Are we that irrelevant to you, Bada?” Halo continued.
“No.” Bada had no choice but to play by their rules. “What’s your price?”
“Three times as many guns. And our money back.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Yeni muttered behind Halo. She had been silent all that time. A part of the fault was hers, she knew, but Halo would never admit that in front of outsiders.
“It is a bit unreasonable for our part.” Bada replied.
“We take what’s ours, even if you give it or not. Although, for the sake of our future business partnerships, it would be nice of you to comply.” Halo was close to mocking her now. Bada felt like her blood was about to explode in her veins. How was she supposed to find that many guns and cover their expenses?
“Halo, please.” She asked again, with a stern tone. “You know it can’t be done.”
“Not even for the sake of your pretty girl?” Another voice ringed in everyone’s ears. Turning to the side, Bada’s eyes widened and all her tough act vanished. There you were, with a gun to your head, a woman taller than you keeping your hands behind your back roughly. You looked terrified, you could hardly breathe, and when your eyes finally met hers tears started rolling down your cheeks.
“Let her go!” Bada yelled, taking a few steps in Chocol’s direction. In a instant, the gun at your head clicked, ready to shoot at the next pull. All the people behind Bada took out their guns and pointed them towards Chocol, and you, or towards the other three women. Halo only laughed, her posture still very much relaxed even with all those guns pointed at her. “Drop the guns, idiots!” Bada’s voice was loud and angry and desperate as she gestured to her friends without taking her eyes off you.
“Good choice.” Chocol said. She pushed you forward, forcing you to walk towards Halo and the others, passing unnecessarily close to Bada in your way. “Don’t worry.” The red haired woman said winking at your girlfriend. “I know how to treat pretty girls.”
It was impossible for her to stand still. Her fists ached for violence and she wouldn’t stop until you were safe back in her arms. But she didn’t have that luxury now. Tatter and Lusher had to forcefully hold her back for your sake, as Chocol pushed you to walk towards the car. Halo walked up to Bada until they were inches apart. Although she was significantly taller than Halo, the shorter woman was dominating as Bada kept on fighting to free herself from her friends’ grip.
“You have until dawn.” Halo said. “Three times the amount of guns and the money back in exchange for your little bitch. Let’s see how much you care about her.”
With that she turned around and walked back to the car, getting in the driver seat. Bada watched as the car got smaller and smaller as it drove off, and she fell to the ground when Lusher and Tatter finally let her go. She was crying and hitting her bare fists on the asphalt, as the mass of people behind her had already started making calls at midnight trying to find the amount of guns necessary until dawn.
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jiminjamms · 2 months
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sex therapy :: 28. perfect timing
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chapter tags/warnings: therapist! toji. manipulative! naoya. toji defends you. naoya 100% has anger issues. infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.
word count: 3.8k
notes: hugs to everyone! been a while, and my busy days at work (plus straggling mental health) have not been doing me favors. writing, reading, and interacting with you all have been bringing me joy. i spent extra time on this chapter to make this piece what i hoped it would be. enjoy. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo
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Toji loved working on Sundays.
With his colleagues off, Sundays were the only day in the week when Toji could be the sole person in the therapy office. He appreciated the slowness that came with working on the weekends, allowing him to balance his time for scheduled appointments with unoccupied windows used to strategize and decompress.
He relished in the lull. The tranquility. The peace.
But alas, the serenity was cut short on this particular Sunday, as someone barged through the entrance like a wild boar, causing a rambunctious racket as the front door flung open with immense force.
The doorknob clanged against the wall, and Toji—sitting behind the reception counter—looked up from a patient file on his computer screen. 
With both curiosity and annoyance, he peered above his monitor. 
The black tips to blond hair. The sharp brown glare. The permanent frown. 
Who else could this have been but Naoya Zenin, presenting himself in the flesh?
The incomer’s expression consisted of nothing but antipathy as he bared his teeth at the doorway, his hands balled into fists by his sides. Based on how he glared upon seeing his older cousin, anyone could safely conclude that this man was beyond livid. 
Must he pester me on the weekend? Toji thought as he mentally shook his head, clucking his tongue faintly in disapproval. He had not seen Naoya ever since his official departure from the Zenin Corporation and household, which was months ago. From his recollection, the manchild before him had a fickle personality, bursting into immature fits that easily made someone younger (like his son Megumi) seem like the actual adult around. 
Given this, Toji legitimately did not understand how you had been putting up with Naoya as your husband. 
As for himself, Toji did his best to ignore the new presence, clicking his mouse as he resumed analyzing the file on his screen. He did not wish to spare a moment longer than necessary tending to the human tornado on his way. If Toji had wanted to deal with Naoya in person, he would have confronted him long ago. Rather, he had decided strategically to watch his cousin wreak havoc from afar to avoid interacting with his burdensome family. Everyone in the Zenin household, except for Mai and Maki, was not worth the aggravation that came with mere association. 
Now, especially with today’s booked schedule, Toji would not be able to make an exception to soothe Naoya’s upcoming tantrum.
On the other hand, Naoya had no better choice than to drag himself to his older cousin’s doorstep.
Had circumstances been any different, he also could not bother to see Toji again. He hadn't talked to Toji in months. Why would he? After many years of neglect and inferiority, Naoya finally achieved everything he wanted. 
Or so he thought. 
This was why, to face his estranged relative again—after recently learning that you had been seeing him for weeks—was a grand ego blow to Naoya, who could not accept the possibility that he was losing his reputation’s very foundation to the man he had envied all his life.
Recognizing the indignation that fumed from the current Zenin heir, Toji seized the opportunity to inveigle his cousin and greeted him with a cheer.
“Good morning!” he beamed, raising his hand in salutation. The scar by his lips flexed from his grin. “Do you have an appointment?”
Naoya scowled awfully.
"Great to finally see you again, Toji Zenin."
Immediately, the said man’s smile fell at his cousin's overly casual tone. "Woah, there,” he shot back. “Show some respect, will you? First, my last name is Fushiguro. Do not refer to me as Zenin. Second, calling me by my first name is bad manners. I'm older than you, kid."
Without question, the comment irked the blonde. Of all people in the universe, this was Naoya Zenin in question, a hubristic man who hated humiliation and the need to concede. His demeanor hardened with resentment while he struggled to maintain his composure.
"Fine, Mr. Fushiguro."
Toji quirked another smile.
Theoretically, he had no problem demanding more but decided to be nice by saying, “That’s better.” He locked his computer as he shifted his attention, crossing his arms as his back rested against his chair. “I haven't seen you in a while. Remember the days when you used to work here, too? Good times, hm?" All rhetorical chit-chat and pleasantries and, as expected, there was no response. "Well, I have only a few minutes to spare, after which I have business to attend. So...what brings you to visit?”
Another ironic question, as Toji already knew the answer. 
Over the phone, he had spoken with an irate Naoya who demanded to speak to his wife and have her back home. Despite his insufferable treatment toward you, the Zenin CEO could not stand how his apartment remained empty the past few nights, meaning he hadn’t gotten his dick soaked by his lawful spouse like he should be doing.
But then again, Toji thought, he already has a mistress to satisfy himself with.
Meanwhile, Naoya might as well be digging holes into his cousin’s skull from how his glower fizzed with malice. He opened his mouth, only to promptly purse his lips again to choose his reply carefully. 
“Did you make her see you?”
Quite a question.
Toji blinked rapidly through an empty stare. 
Where did that come from? 
“‘See me?’” he had to clarify.
In one smooth motion, Toji stood from his seat, his chair bouncing back slightly when he did. With his arms still folded over his chest, he meandered around the counter area that separated the client and employee zones in the reception area, stopping mere steps away from the younger man. 
Then, he repeated, “See me who?”
Naoya did not appear amused in the slightest.
His hazel eyes all but narrowed from vexation. The paroxysm of negative emotions on the blonde’s face made him appear ready to snap. Like a button ready to blast everything around him, he was close to letting his wrath take over. “Did you send my wife your therapist information just so that you could talk to her and figure out how to get revenge on me?”
What an oddly specific accusation.
“Why would I do such a thing?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Toji could see how his nonchalance profoundly irritated the other man. “She found me like how all my other therapy clients find me. But me reaching out to her personally merely to spite you? No. That's only some shit you would think to do. Unlike yourself, I'm not that petty."
Toji was blunt in his response, he knew.
In his defense, he would rather cut to the chase than beat around the bush. 
He no longer headed the Zenin conglomerate, but he still had a therapy practice to manage and a family to look after. With his packed schedule, every second mattered and he wasn’t the type to waste his time lingering around and dealing with non-important business matters, such as the grouchy kid with him.
His observations definitely blew a fuse within Naoya, though. 
"Excuse me?!" In two sharp steps, he closed the distance between Toji and himself, jabbing a finger into the other's chest. Bold. “You’re fucked, you know that? You’re so damn fucked," he hissed, and the edges of his mouth contorted into a derisive sneer. “You…You’re goddamn obsessed with Y/N, and you don’t even realize that! Give me a fucking break. You only give two hoots about the bitch because she’s my wife, but you don't actually give a shit about the woman herself.”
At that, Toji immediately swatted the hand from his pec.
“Incorrect, I do,” he retorted, his tone firm. “But do you care about her?” and he didn’t need to hear a response for that one, so he went on. “No, you do not. You know what? I found her situation sad because every time your wife talked about you, she told me about how you neglect and can’t satisfy her. This entire time, I was sorry for her precisely because I know the person you are. Fine, you call her your wife. What that means is she's not just a pussy for you to play with. You can’t just pick and choose different parts of her. But where were you when your wife was crying?” He paused briefly, letting his words sink into his silenced cousin’s head. “Where were you, hm? Where were you when she was upset? Anyone with eyes could’ve seen that she’s been having a hard time! But where?” and Toji gave Naoya one pointed glare. “Where…was her husband?”
In the sheets with an older woman.
Of course, that very husband would not admit that aloud, especially since he had yet to realize that his older cousin already knew about his affair with the other’s ex-wife. Instead, Toji saw Naoya twist his lips into a deeper frown.
“I have a company to lead,” was the excuse he spat out, and he ran both hands through his light strands in evident frustration. “I can’t believe our family thought that you were a capable leader. I, however, saw right through your facades, alright? Despite all your fucking degrees and licenses, you left the Zenin Corporation as a shithole for me to manage.” 
“No, I had set the company to run efficiently,” Toji retorted, keeping his levelheaded demeanor. “You turned the Zenin Corporation into—in your own words—a shithole. You decided to fire everyone I had hired. So currently, your managers are inept, your shareholders are unhappy, your daddy is getting angry, and the most convenient person to blame is me.” He shrugged dismissively. “Rookie mistakes. E for Effort, I guess. Luckily for you, Y/N is a good way to cover up the competence which you lack. Thus, she’s only useful when you deem her as such.”
Naoya scoffed, and his shoulders rose and fell with each enraged breath. “Because you don’t understand what a burden she can otherwise be. Besides, I can treat and use her in whatever way I please!”
He might not display this visibly, but Toji felt disgusted. 
“Don’t talk like you own her. That’s disrespectful. She's a person, not an object.”
"What—" Naoya paused, and his eyebrows creased in annoyance. "Who the fuck do you think you are? That woman is my wife.”
“Then treat her like one,” Toji shot back. While matching Naoya's hostility with his own, he could see the latter's eyes widen at the remark. Not that Toji paid him any mind, and he continued staring at his younger cousin with an unfazed demeanor that showed how willing he was to defend. "She might be your wife, but she is not your property.”
As if Naoya would care. 
Rather, he clenched his hands into tight fists by his sides. “You need to stay away from her. You’ve had your chances with marriages. Y/N is mine and not yours. I swear, if you talk about her with your gross lips again, I'll—" He stopped, as he wasn’t quite sure what would be a good threat. “I’ll—”
“You’ll do what, kid?” Toji interrupted, knowing just how pissed Naoya would get from every reminder of who the older person was and who the actual successor to the Zenin inheritance should be. “I’ll keep her since you can’t. You call her a burden, but I don’t find her to be one. I don’t know about you, but I like her. Have you ever had a civil conversation with her? She's sweet and quite interesting to talk to.”
The continuous comments unsurprisingly make Naoya bristle further.
“I said don’t talk about her like that!” he snarled. “Here you are, bossing me around and telling me to treat her better, but listen to how you talk about the woman! Holy shit, you're such a fucking creep.” 
“Me?” Toji repeated, appalled by his bravery to say those words. “Mind you, boy, she is the one who wanted to talk to me first. As her concerned therapist and the more mature adult, I believe I must listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”
Naoya breathed heavily, his chest undulating while he boiled with rage. Yet, as the younger, more naive, and less physically adept challenger, he could not make himself fight back against the other man. “You...You don’t know shit, Fushiguro.”
Immediately, Toji arched a brow. 
“Really?" Was that supposed to be an insult? "I don't know shit?" This was hilarious! "Oh, boy. I know a lot of fucking shit alright. About ‘your wife’ or whatever you want to deem her, there is not a single chance in hell that she’d ever think about calling you her husband anymore.”
Naoya stared back, rather stupefied. 
In any other situation, he would simply take the remark as a cheap way to rouse him. Of course, talking about you would be the easiest route to do so. This time, though, Toji’s suspiciously happy visage as he retraced his steps to the counter and positioned himself comfortably against the surface had him uneasy. 
He did not like what the other man insinuated. 
"What...do you mean?" As much as he tried, Naoya could not hide how affected he appeared. “Our marriage is none of your damn business.”
Toji shrugged. "Marriage? What marriage? I don't see the rings on her finger, kid. Heard she tossed them. Apparently, you made her upset enough for her to take them off."
Without a better way to retaliate, Naoya clenched his teeth to signal his displease. “Ring or not, she’s still my wife,” he spat. “Plus, I do not want my wife around a womanizer like you.” 
Instead of taking umbrage from your husband’s words, Toji tossed his head to the side and let out a deep, harrowing chortle. “Wow! You’re one to talk," he rebuked. "The whole household used to joke about how you brought a different girlfriend to each of our family dinners. At the moment, you’re married, and what? You want your spouse to come home, but you then drive her away. You want her to be a good partner, but torment her when she does. Please, you are embarrassing yourself. Why don’t you make up your fucking mind?” With his emerald gaze returning to the younger man, Toji then added, “Now, if you excuse me. My next client is arriving and I have an appointment."
Still, Naoya was not ready to let the conversation end. “We’re not done. You think you’re all ‘high and mighty.’ But, you’re low, Toji. So, so low. Your last wife was a divorcee, and now you’re a motherfucker into married women, huh?” 
"So were you." 
"What?"
"Baby?"
And, in one go, all signs of life drained away from Naoya swiftly at the new voice. 
No fucking way, his expression seemed to read as he craned his neck around in rigid and robotic motions. Naoya had to blink twice to confirm the woman by the door before he placed his arms down and froze.
Mari, who returned the man’s aghast expression with perplexion, had her dark brows crinkled. “What…Why are you looking at me like that?” 
Even with Naoya’s face presently angled away, Toji could see his eyes widen at the ludicrous question. Yet, they both thought the same thing: did she forget where she was?
“What are you doing here? I did not expect you,” she continued. “But, I’m here for an…an appointment.”
Her voice trailed off.
When the woman finally seemed to remember that Toji was also there, her dark eyes rounded in alarm. Wait, her expression seemed to say as she very, very slowly dragged her sights to the man by the counter. Once her eyes met Toji’s, her jaw fell slack before she promptly slapped both hands over her gaping mouth. 
With the two visitors transformed into Medusa's stone statues, Toji took great gratification in the perfect timing. This coincidence far exceeded his expectations because he honestly did not anticipate ever being in the same vicinity as Naoya and Mari, yet here he was. Presented this chance, Toji pushed his bottom lip out in fake thought and furrowed his brows, pointing at Mari then Naoya then at Mari again. 
“Seems like you two know each other?” he asked in mock confusion, his finger swinging between the pair. “How come I didn’t get invited to the party? Has something been going on between my baby cousin and my ex-wife?”
No response.
So, he continued.
“What? Were you two spying on me or something?” (He knew the answer was yes.) “Or…wait,” and his voice dropped to a dangerous low, “Don’t tell me that you two…have been having an affair?”
Naoya—realizing the trap they had been set up in—swung his arm forward, prepared to defend them with whatever good lies he could spin (which Toji knew that he had a talent for), only for the woman to speak up first.
“We’re acquaintances.”
The manner in which Mari snapped caused Toji to pop a brow in surprise.
Oh? he noted. His suggestion on their illicit relationship appeared to strike a particular nerve. Even Naoya could sense the danger in his mistress’s overreaction as his eyes widened in horror. He tried to give her a warning expression, but she failed to see him. 
By the way, did Naoya, know that Mari—well—wasn’t very streetsmart? 
Maybe, but he likely prioritized keeping her in his bed to pay her absent wits any attention.
At this, Toji could not pass on the excellent opportunity to simultaneously provoke the two people who betrayed him. 
“Just acquaintances?” he pressed.
“Yes.” 
In another curt response, Mari pressed her lips into a firm line and shot Naoya a ‘shut the hell up and play along’ look, thinking she was slick when Toji only felt second-hand embarrassment from how utterly blatant the communication had been executed.
Pretending to nod along, Toji added, “Interesting. Because I never knew acquaintances called each other ‘baby.’”
Checkmate.
But the woman must not be thinking, as she sensed her inevitable defeat but hurriedly explained herself by saying, “It’s not what you think, Naoya and I haven’t had sex since—”
“Stop,” Toji interrupted before she could finish her sentence. That statement truly crossed the line. The lady must be inane. To talk about her dirty deeds with his relative as if that was appropriate! Clearly, she was oblivious to common sense and proper etiquette, given how she was desperate to try to save some face, resorting to the most crass justifications as if that would ameliorate the issue. Toji felt ashamed to think that he used to be married to this woman for years. While he noticed a fit of pique boiling within him, he ultimately let the ill feelings go. “I never asked about your sex lives. I don’t want to hear about what you two have been doing.”
Plus, the tabloids have shown him enough already.
Nonetheless, Mari’s face brewed with annoyance. She folded her arms firmly and tucked her chin outward. “Well, if that’s the case, then when and where I’m riding your cousin's dick should not matter!”
“Oh my fucking lord, stop talking already!” and this time, it was Naoya who spoke, shouting into his hands and cupping his face from sheer exasperation. He had been stunned speechless for a while but could no longer contain himself. When he picked up his head, he growled with rage as he raised a shaking finger at the woman. “You,” he seethed. “You’re saying all the wrong things! Holy fuck, bitch, how fucking blind are you? Unbelievable!” He leered to the side as if shaking off part of his rage, only to add on, “Just…Just shut the fuck up!”
The sudden, scathing comments soured Mari's mien in seconds. “Wait, but babe—”
“No.” Naoya cut her off right there. “Don’t ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ me with your bullshit anymore. Can’t you fucking see the atrocities you have fucking committed in the last ten minutes? You’re literally ruining my life! Even Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to say all the crap you just said! I should’ve never approached a dumb whore like you.”
While Toji had his eyes widened from silent bewilderment, tears began to roll down the woman's cheeks.
“That’s a lie!” For what must be her first time, she had to face the reality that, despite all the pleasure and company she offered Naoya Zenin after his tough days at work, he was an egotistical sociopath and a married man. "That's not what you've been telling me. You know I’m the only person who can make you happy, not the actual whore whom you have at home! These last few months, you would’ve been absolutely miserable without me!”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a reminder,” she hissed harshly. “You had said so yourself.”
At this point, Naoya found himself in the middle of a living nightmare.
To think about his wife who had been avoiding him for days, to see his loathsome cousin watch the scene like this was some sort of Netflix episode, and now to witness his mistress ridiculing him like a fucking fool.
“God dammit!” he roared. With animosity overwhelming his sanity, Naoya—who was already on the verge of destruction—only saw red as he lurched forward. He used his arms to sweep everything, all things, anything he could reach from a nearby tabletop onto the floor: a ceramic vase that shattered into shards, magazines that flew in all directions, a framed photograph that clinked upon descent. He didn’t stop there. Like a mid-tantrum toddler, he kicked angrily at the mess, sending paper and broken pottery flying in all directions without much regret for his actions. 
In fact, this was cathartic for him. Because the very thing he wanted was to make his cousin's world wretched, just like how the latter had done to him. 
“I'm going to find Y/N and bring her back to me, but if either of you…” the blonde warned several moments later, regarding the therapist and the woman with a deathly fire burning in his auburn eyes, “if either of you do more shit to ruin my life in the meantime, I...I will make you regret.”
With that, Naoya stormed off in a huff, releasing all the profanities that have manifested his anger throughout his life. Mari followed soon after, chasing after him in sobs.
Finally, as for Toji, well, he...was stunned.
He blinked thrice in the same second, processing what he had just seen.
He drew in a deep breath...
...and he chuckled.
He knew he looked crazy, laughing to himself in an empty and currently deranged parlor. However, Toji had not felt this triumphant and optimistic in years. He saw a hopeful gleam for himself, for his family, for his colleagues, and for you.
He picked up his phone with a languid grin, scrolling through his contacts and sending over a quick text when he found your name: Guess what?
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last chapter || next chapter
end notes: Throughout this fic, Toji and Naoya obviously have a very complicated and terse cousin-ship. For weeks and months, I have been thinking about how to orchestrate this scene, where we see them together for the first time...and with Mari too. Likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know in the comments how you all are doing!
taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network
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silasours · 3 months
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% 1 ━ Yours Deerly, A .
#chapters : [ previous | next ] #cw : your unique soul that piqued the great alastor's interest; he decided to write letters just for you until you finally reach hell. alastor x gn reader. may include adult themes and mild swearing. #note : quick thank you to @sea-bunniii for helping me with the fic title :3 this is the series I talked about, lmk if you'd like to be tagged! enjoy.
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there is nothing around you but darkness for as long as you can remember now.
you never really understood what was happening; you tried pulling yourself out of this pitch-black surrounding but failed. you tried to speak but can't seem to utter a word from your parted lips. you rely on your hearing to keep track of your surroundings, but there's something in particular to note after quite some time. there were times when a strange, muffled radio static voice rang through your ears, words never clear enough for you to comprehend what it was trying to say. times when you'd see a blurred figure standing before you, but never clear enough for even a rough appearance, let alone a name.
millions of possibilities would run through your mind endlessly about them. is this a message for you, or are you just gradually losing your mind and hallucinating? you often try your best to push those thoughts aside while listening to the people around you who talk about your condition. but that, too, didn't bring you any good news. every day you would hear about how your life is merely hanging by a thin thread, that they might lose you any minute as they speak.
you mentally sigh, hoping that death would just swallow you up whole now instead of taking its sweet time. maybe by then, you'll finally gain your freedom back.
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"hm." the radio demon squints his eyes slightly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the thin cane he holds. yet another failed attempt. he lifts a hand from the cane and opens his palm, an eerily green glow appears on top until it forms a certain line of words. "looks like this little soul is back in the human world for the time being."
it has been a month since alastor took notice of your soul. your soul that affected him ever so slightly whenever you traveled from the human world and back; it felt like something was lurking in his surroundings when your soul arrived at hell. he ignored it for a couple days, brushing it off as something uninteresting until it lasted for more than a week. with curiosity, he tries his best to wrap his aura around this thing he has been feeling.
noting that it was your soul he was observing, his curiosity grew. your soul would arrive in hell without being in an actual body and find its way to return to the human world. there was not a single effect cast on it, as if it's just a normal travel through countries and cities. nothing like this has ever happened in the underworld, not to alastor's knowledge at least.
as an overload who claims multiple souls, he naturally tried to claim yours as well after seeing the potential of it benefitting him. he tried to insert his voice and appearance into your soul and communicate with you once it returns to your body in the human world, but he failed every time. no matter how many times he improvised his ways, your soul rejects him without struggle.
annoyance started fueling him, yet it is also the sole reason why he has grown more interested in your unique soul. never has he ever struggled this much to obtain a mere soul; usually it could be done with just a snap of his fingers, yet all he could do to your soul is observe and know the place it's in through the aura that he managed to wrap it in.
keeping his head upright, he opens the door of the room that he claimed as his. closing the door behind him, alastor smoothes out his coat while walking down the dimly lit hallway of the hotel. the heel of his shoes thud against the carpet he walks on, chattering gradually growing louder from afar. the light grew brighter down the hallway he passed by until he reached the staircase, now able to view everyone at the main compartment of the hotel from above.
he takes his time walking down the steps, the sound of his heels catches the attention of the blond woman - charlie. her smile grew at the sight of alastor, hurriedly grabbing a small stack of papers from the long table and jogging toward him. alastor widens his smile, tapping on his cane while standing in place.
"why hello there, my friend! you seem busy, what could you possibly be working on?" he watches as charlie clumsily flips through the papers, a slight frown scrunched on her forehead until she finds the paper she needs. she smoothes the paper, turning it to alastor so he's able to read the contents clearly. she clears her throat before speaking.
"alastor, hi! well, you see, is it alright if i ask you for a small, tiny favor?" she seems hesitant to ask judging from her tone.
"why of course! ask away and i shall consider."
"great!" charlie returns to her usual bubbly self, quickly scanning the paper to look for the specific content she needs to show the radio demon. "here, take a look at this. it says here that it's required to write a letter for the request of a big stock sent to our location. and i'm, well.." her hand stretches to scratch the back of her neck nervously, an awkward smile on her face.
"i'm not so good with letters." she tries to relieve her own awkwardness with a chuckle, but it seems it did nothing but made it worse. "i was wondering if you could.. help out with the letters? just this once! I've heard how good you are with words when it comes to letters. please? i don't really have anyone else to ask." charlie gazes at alastor, her eyes shining with hope as her hands clutch tightly onto the papers.
alastor laughs. "i would love to, my dear! it is but mere letters, nothing i can't handle." he extends an arm towards charlie, his fingers stretched out with his palm facing upwards; a gesture to accept the papers and help. the woman excitedly places the papers onto his hand, his fingers now folded to hold the papers firmly. his eyes briefly look through the documents with a small nod of his head. "consider it done. fear not! I'll be able to finish this by dinner."
"thank you so much, alastor!" charlie flashes him a grateful smile before jogging off, feeling relieved without having to worry about finishing something she's not particularly good at. alastor's gaze fall onto the papers he holds, something molding and forming in his head; an idea. he hums to himself as he dives into deep thought, paying no mind to his surrounding for the time being.
if he, the great alastor isn't able to physically reach out to your little soul, there ought to have nothing else that will be able to achieve that as well. though, leaving messages until you physically arrive in hell may help him accomplish his goal. as one first falls into hell, they often get hit by a strong sense of confusion and even panic. if he takes advantage of the emotion you may hold, luring you in with a false sense of security, things will certainly go smoothly and result in success.
his thoughts abruptly got interrupted by vaggie's voice yelling from the kitchen, demanding for everyone to have lunch now that it's all prepared. instead of walking forward, alastor turns around and starts walking up the very same stairs he just walked down minutes ago. he rarely joins them for any group activity; it's only common to see him joining them if the event will benefit him in any way.
a small tune is audible from him humming as he walks, the papers that were once held by him vanish in a split second, leaving behind small traces of dark green sparkles around the area. the chattering grows soft once again the further he walks from the stairs, now walking down the hallway until the familiar door is in his range of view. using the very same aura to push the door open, he enters his room as the door shuts itself behind him.
walking towards his neat working desk, alastor's heart pounds against his chest from the clear idea he has in his head. he sets his cane aside carefully, allowing it to lean against the desk before pulling the plush chair from the elegantly carved table. he sits on the chair, papers and calligraphy pen appearing with a simple snap of his clawed fingers. paying no mind to the letter he should be working on for charlie, the pen straightens from the table by itself and starts scribbling words onto the blank sheet of paper.
he completely sets his focus on the letter he plans to write for you. it's been a while since he picked up his favorite pen to handwrite a letter for someone, the feeling stirs something in his chest. is it excitement? or is it nervousness? even alastor doesn't understand himself. brushing the thought aside, he lowers the pen until the tip comes in contact with the paper lying flat on the surface of the desk. the paper he chose is a special one; it's vintage, like an old paper that has been left sitting in the drawer for years.
it has a sense of familiarity in it, providing comfort in an odd way to alastor. it almost felt like he was writing love letters for someone he doesn't know at all. ink flows from the pen and onto the paper, the small glob of black ink weakly reflecting light from the desk lamp he has. cautiously, he glides the pen across the paper; every stroke and every curve of the words gradually form a sentence, and then a whole paragraph.
he would pause from time to time, digging for the correct words to write in his brain. it was unexpected to even the demon himself, to think that someone like him would spend this much effort for a mere letter. it took almost half an hour for him to finish his first letter to you, signing his name at the bottom with a content heart.
his eyes scan through every word he wrote, reading everything all over again until he confirms that it has no mistake. his fingers reach out to grab the envelope beside him, sliding the neatly folded paper into it. feeling satisfied with his work, alastor seals the letter with wax that has the shape of a radio pressed onto the top.
he holds the letter; it has a color of deep shade red along with a couple of drawn-on flowers. he pulls the drawer that's seated on the lower left of the desk open, revealing an empty compartment. alastor places the sealed letter in the drawer, pushing it back in until there's a click signaling that the drawer is fully closed. he glances at the letter he promised to finish for charlie, finding it now neatly lying on the desk without a single movement.
alastor exhales lightly from his mouth, allowing his back to lean against the chair with his head tilted back. he feels his muscles relax despite never realizing they were tensed before this, eyelids falling, shutting until he sees nothing but darkness.
"ah.. such troubles i need to go through for this little soul."
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© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.
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ewills · 3 months
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APPLE CIDER ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩
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description: fluff! just a drabble to start my account! any tips of my writing will be very much appreciated <33 loser!elle? modern au! enjoy ;) listen to apple cider by beabadoobee while reading
it had been a few days since you had moved in, you decided to explore the small shops lining the coastline, one in particular caught your eye, a small record store perched on a small lane at the end of the pebbled road. ‘williams records’ the sign hung low and poorly nailed to a piece of driftwood, you walked inside your cherry red converse creaking on the floorboards, you looked through the many albums your eyes landing on a small record player now playing ‘take on me’ by a-ha. cool. “looking for anything?” your interrupted, you look up to see an eager auburn haired girl looking at you, hair cut jagged at the shoulders and a name tag reading ‘ellie’ “um yes actually do you have ‘hunting high and low?” you ask“by a-ha?” she responds a small smile on her freckled face “sure i’ll go get for you-i’ll just be a second” she walks off quickly leaving you no time to respond
internally ellie’s freaking the fuck out, a pretty girl walks into her store and asks her about a-ha her favourite fucking band, there’s no way.
she returns a couple minutes later record in hand and a stupid smile hanging from her face “thank you” you smile “no problem so-uh i haven’t seen you around here?” she responds desperately trying to make any sort of small talk with you “yeah i’m with my dad for the summer thought i’d explore..i like your shop..by the way it’s really cool” you smile. she blushes. “thanks i’m ellie by the way-ELLIE! a voice shouts cutting her off “i can’t find this damn film c’mere for a sec kiddo” her face immediately turns a very dark red “that’s my dad uh-i guess i’ll see you around beautiful” she smiles and walks away very quickly nearly tripping over her untied laces on her way out. :)
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tosuckmyweenis · 1 year
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Just wanted to share a thought but infinite darkness older Leon is 100% the kind of man to buy his girl those vibrating panties as a “romantic” gift and also take full advantage of the fact that he has the remote for it and abuse his power
That is all
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Anytime!! Anywhere!!! Absolutely!!
I tried to write a full fic, but I had a few ideas and couldn't decide; the worms aren't worming yet, so enjoy these bits and bobs for now Anon 💕
It's in a slightly weird formatting, but I hope it doesn't bother too much. I'm kind of on the fence about these because i read them over too much but fuck it we ball.
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In public while doing mundane tasks?!
The only day Leon is home is, of course, the day you chose to get all your errands done; he only tags along once he convinces you that today would be the perfect day to test out that little gift he got you, wagging the remote in one hand and the black lace in the other. After all, he sounded so convincing, and with that smirk plastered on his perfect face, you weren't going to say no.
Starting off with just the lowest setting on the way to the first store with the reassurance that he'd be on his best behaviour.
Staying close behind you, staring shamelessly at your ass while you're pushing the cart in some grocery store, making your way through the isles trying to grab the box of cereal you needed off the top shelf, he refuses to help.
Waiting until you're on your tippy toes before cranking the power up to max. He loves how your body jerks in shock at the sudden intensity and clamping your hand over your mouth and the inside of your cheek to stop a moan from slipping out. Then, he takes the opportunity to press himself against you to grab the item before leaning down and whispering into your ear. 
"Careful, Sweetheart, You wouldn't want to cause a scene, would you?" Finally lowering it once he tosses the box in the cart, continuing to do the same thing for every item you reach for over and over, never letting you cum though
"Why should I risk letting other people see your pretty face? It's meant for my eyes alone. Although, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?"
Finally, getting everything you need and checking out, loading everything into the back of the jeep. 
He'd just hand you a bag, and when you bend over to put it away, smack your ass, and when you turn to yell at him, he's just leaning on the side, holding the remote and turning it up with a shit-eating grin. 
"Leon, please," shamelessly begging him at this point, your legs finally giving out.
"Sorry, what was that? Please, what?" 
"Please let me cum, s'too much; I need to" 
"Since you asked so nicely, I'll give you what you want." 
Deciding to go early in the morning before rush hour was the smartest decision you made that day.
At home while you do chores?!
Doing chores was at the bottom of your list of things you wanted to do today, but things needed to get done, and you refused to ask Leon for help; the poor man works enough as it is and deserves to relax a little.
You were grumbling about it until he brought up a little positive reinforcement, which is how you ended up with a death grip on the edge of the kitchen sink.
You lost count of just how many times you came so far, panting like you just ran a mile, legs trembling, barely able to hold weight anymore.
Staring at the back of his head while watching a movie, his arm lazily tossed over the back of the couch, his thumb mindlessly moving the controls around in no particular rhythm, periodically stopping to give you a break before resuming.
"I don't hear any dishes being washed."
Rinse and repeat until you're just a crying, overstimulated mess.
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natspookie · 11 months
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petal
natasha romanoff x fem!florist
☆ summary : natasha takes a detour to a flower shop
an, not proofread and sloppy :,)
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not born with much wealth in the city, nor nothing, nature was what grounded you. by the age of 6 you were drawing your future flower shop as your dream job.
sure enough, you worked your way to putting up your own flower shop, just as you dreamt of.
you had many customers that you saw at least once a week, knowing which ones they picked out at the back of your mind.
you were just about finished with an arrangement of daisies and baby breaths when the sound of the white french doors opening, caught your attention.
you looked up to see a redhaired woman that you had never seen in your flower-shop. you brightened, hoping to make a new friend.
she looked around quietly, only the sound of your music playing softly, when she halted in front of some specific flowers to the left of the cashier.
“those are my favorites, very pretty ones” you said as she looked as if she were deciding whether to get them
“what are they called?” she said with a hoarse voice, almost ever so quietly,
“aster amellus… you looking for anything in particular?” your eyebrows raised curiously when you finally met her green eyes.
“oh, no. i-um- i don’t know much about flowers” half lie, she knew of the venomous ones.
“well i’d be happy to entertain any questions if you’d like” you tilted your head a little as she turned back to the purple flowers she was looking at earlier.
truth be told, natasha just saw you from outside and decided she would have made a big mistake if she just walked right past your shop.
“would you mind helping me pick for the dining or living room” she looked back at you
“hmm.. i’ve got a lot of ideas in mind” you giggled resting your elbow on the marble counter and your head on your hand, thinking about it.
“surprise me” she said with a small smile
“would you like a variation or only one kind?” you stood up from your stool and only then did the redhead take in your full figure.
only a few inches shorter than her, you wore a navy blue and white maxi dress with ribbons as the strap. hair tied up in a half pony tail.
you wandered around the shop, picking some quite loud flowers and some quiet ones in contrast.
natasha couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. you radiated such softness she had never felt.
she on the other hand, wore a sweater steve had knitted with some black pants.
“i take probably 5 minutes or so to arrange these, would you mind waiting ?” you made your way in front of her.
“i don’t mind at all” she said staring as you smiled “alright” you grabbed a stool for her and set it in front of your counter and cashier spot.
“so what’s your name, if you don’t mind?” she paused for a moment.
“natasha”
“natasha” you repeated. her name rolled off your tongue so smoothly she took her seat, fiddling with her fingers. “that’s a lovely name”
“thank you, what about you?” she eyed your top for a nametag. “no name tag” she smirked
“i find it better to see who cares enough to ask” you laughed, cutting some stems off. “it’s y/n”
“nice to meet you” natasha reached her hand out impulsively. she was screaming a handful of swear words in her head. ‘this is so stupid’ ‘a handshake? - really natasha?!’
you looked at her hand and smiled widely “i love a good handshake” you took her hand and shook it before going back to what you were doing.
“since this is for your dining room or living room, would you want a vase? instead of me wrapping this in paper”
“whatever it needs” natasha laughed “sure” a smile crept onto your face as you arranged the flowers in a clear vase.
“voilà!” you turned it to her and though she didn’t know any of the names of the flowers in this areangement, she found it as stunning as the one who made it.
“it’s great, thanks y/n. i’ll pay in cash” you put the vase with flowers in a bag so it wouldn’t be so hard to carry.
”the vase is on the house” you sent her a playful wink which left her mind spiraling.
“you didn’t have to, but i appreciate it” natasha took bag and smiled at you.
“well i hope you enjoy the flowers and come back, natasha” “oh i will, sweetheart” her confidence came back as she inched away from you, earning you to shake your head with laughter.
—————
the next time you saw natasha was a week after she last came. this time, she entered with a frown, holding an empty vase.
you waved goodbye to a customer and greeted her with a smile.
“you need to tell me how you keep them alive” she set the vase down and slumped against the counter.
“oh no natasha, what happened” you stifled a laugh, amused by this.
“well i forgot to ask what i needed to do so i just left it there and by the time i realized i needed to take care of it, it was too late”
“you left it alone for one week” you raised a brow
“maybe” she murmured looking behind you
“would you like a new set of flowers?” you asked “please” “the same kind?”
“surprise me”
it went the same as last time, except she stayed to talk more even after you finished.
“do you mind if we exchanged numbers? y’know.. so i can call you for help or text?”
‘wow natasha, smooth’ she thought
“sure! here you go” you handed her your phone and she did the same.
“i have to go, but thank you for this” she raised the vase with flowers
“my pleasure! i hope you enjoy, dont kill the flowers, and come back again soon natasha” you waved and she did the same
——-
after chatting almost every day about random things, natasha came back 2 more times before she came again, without the vase.
“oh don’t tell me you broke the vase” you said cocking you head with your hand on your hip
“ha ha, very funny y/l/n” “so what’s the flowers for today?”
“i want aster amellus and whatever you think someone would like to receive”
“natasha dating someone??? wooo” you giggled
“yeah-yeah im not so sure” natasha shook her head, sitting on the stool you always have out for her.
“well now i have to make this extra for whoever they are! but come on, any person would be lucky to go out with you” natasha laughed “what about you? any plans for tonight?” natasha asked you
“unfortunately not, probably watching a shitty movie or somethin” natasha hummed
“vase or paper?” “paper” natasha leaned forward in the counter, overlooking all the wrapping. “payment” natasha slid the bill forward and you thanked her
“here you go” you handed it to her and she smiled
“y/n?” “hm?” “for you.. if you wanna have dinner and watch a shitty movie together tonight”
you stopped breathing for a moment
“...me?” you asked baffled “who else?” natasha smiled coyly “no offense but.. you can do way much better” you accepted the flowers from her
“is this you rejecting me?” she raised a brow “no! just- thank you” “you’re thanking me for asking you out?” “kinda” “you’re silly, petal” “petal, i like that” you smiled “pick you up by 8:30! don’t be late”
“i wouldn’t dream of it”
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wayfayrr · 8 months
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I've been on a little bit of a first kick recently - so here's a first meeting of reader and him based on this piece of the dolls au by @ovegakart (this amazing comic piece in particular) and on the topic of tagging people I've got some new friends on discord who have a love of first so consider this a gift <3 @fanfic-fairy-fountain @dreaming-of-lu @angry-trashcan @neverchecking <333 enjoy!
[masterlist]
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“Hello..? Time… Sky… Link? Is anyone there?”
As if being forced into Hyrule wasn’t bad enough when I was with the chain, now that cursed shadow decides to push it even further by separating me from them? Why not just kill me outright… Is it to try to give the heroes hope? Wouldn’t it be worse for them for it to kill me outright than string them along with false hope?
“IS ANYONE HERE? HELLO??”
Where even am I? It looks like… Oh. Alone in catacombs, yeah if there’s anywhere to be killed by a malicious shadowy entity it would be in catacombs. Are there going to be redeads here?  If the rest of the monsters are anything to go off of it’s going to be much worse dealing with them now. They can’t handle sunlight though, can they? 
Then that means the pile of rubble in the centre here should be the safest place for me to think through the best way to handle all of this. If the shadow really wants to get to me then of course that won’t stop it but I have to try something right? Is sitting on top of what looks like a grave a little disrespectful? Yes. Do I have many options at the minute? No.
“-Wait-!”
WHY IS THE GRAVE SLIDING OPEN - WHAT WAS THAT!? WHY DOES IT SOUND LIKE SOMEONE IS YELLING?? 
“What… happened? Where is this place?”
I think without a doubt the sound I’ve just made is the most blood-curdling scream I’ve ever let out and - WHY IS HE COVERING MY MOUTH!?
“I’m sorry I know you’re confus- ACK.”
Was biting him the right option? Probably not! But it’s the only thing I could think of to do seeing as well, I'm not exactly calm at this moment in time. Despite the fact that this man has known me for, what, the span of less than a minute, he seems to have at the very least noticed my panic. Backing off like you would with a scared animal - do I really look that petrified? It’s taking everything in me now to not give into my racing heart. 
“I’m sorry, I must’ve overstepped your boundaries. But please can you not be so loud?”
“....”
“... yeah. Yeah I can be a bit quieter”
“So you uhhh-”
Where do I even start - this man just - He just crawled out of a grave. What do you even respond to that with??? 
“...You come round here often?”
[name]. [name] what the heck was that. That's how you flirt with someone at a bar not speak to a living corpse.
“No, I don’t really?”
“Yeah, I figured. I -”
“Are you alright?”
“Look I’m just a bit overwhelmed, I was separated from my group and dropped here then you- You crawled out of a grave and now I’m just?? I’m just stressed and this is only things that have happened today. Now I know that you’re probably more stressed for obvious reasons, but I’m just - I’m sorry for screaming.”
He took a step closer to me at that, not trying to be intimidating, but more cautious. Asking for permission to touch me with an invitingly open outstretched arm, one that seemed to promise some sort of salvation from all the stress I’ve been feeling. One that I was embarrassingly quick to accept. His touch - His hold, is so warm for someone who should really be so cold, there’s definite comfort in feeling his heart beating as well something that proves he’s alive. It didn’t last for long though, as he pulled himself away, reluctantly if I were being bold in how I was to describe it. His fingers lingered, resting on my arm in such a teasingly wanting way. He’s definitely a link thats for sure, that helps me to be more comfortable around him than I would have been with anyone else. He looks like he’s about to start crying.
I - oh god I’m the first person he’s seen since he came back to life. 
“Are you alright link?”
Was that the wrong thing to say? He hasn’t introduced himself to me,  I shouldn’t have said that. It seems like now it’s his turn to look confused - more so than he already was. 
“you how do you know my name?”
“I just guessed, the group I was with before they - well they all looked similar and went by the same name ‘link’ so I just assumed it was the same with you. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
“No it doesn’t.” Why is he reaching for my face? He’s got such a soft look on his face, do I remind him of someone? He’s been dead so it could be possible I guess, but it feels like there’s more to how he said it than just something that simple. 
“Oh my dearest love...”
His hands are so soft… it’s hard not to just lean into his touch and stay there, but there are more important things to be dealing with right now. As much as I’d prefer to not have these questions answered. 
“What do you mean by that link? I don’t - I don’t think I’ve met you before.”
He’s so warm, I hate the fact that he’s most likely going to stop holding me when he realises I’m not the person he’s really ever going to want in a relationship. 
“You haven’t but, I can already tell that you’ll be my beloved soon enough.”
“I’m sorry? We’ve only just met how can you tell s- ACK”
This has to just be a link thing. What is it that makes them fall so quickly? But to hold someone so tightly when you've only just met them - when you’ve only just come back from death?  That doesn’t seem like a healthy thing for him, not in the slightest. 
Is my shoulder wet?
Why would it be wet - he was tearing up earlier and - no there it is he’s sniffling as if he’s trying his hardest not to cry. Even if he’s mildly delusional how cruel would you have to be to not help someone go through something as tough as this clearly is. It’s not hard to gently rub his back as he cries onto me, it’s not hard to hum to him as he clutches me like a lifeline, it’s not hard to be here for him when I have to do so little for him. 
“Link? Would you like to talk about it? I don’t know you but - but I’ll be here to listen to you.”
“Thank you. It’s simply that I - I don’t know why or how I got here, It’s simply that I woke up in there after everything then I saw you -”
“[name]”
“[name] and well you know what has happened since. I have to thank you for being here though, there’s something about you, some kind of energy that just feels like a part of myself that I lost. You feel like home to me [name]”
With that last sentence, he burrows his head even further into my neck seeking what I can only guess is comfort. He’s probably just desperate for another person's touch right now, rather than him having fallen in love with me from the briefest interaction that didn’t even go that well.   There’s no harm in waiting here with him for a moment though. What could go wrong in this amount of time?
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goodluckclove · 1 month
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I've been meaning to say something. (100 follower hot take)
Hey! Thanks for stopping by. I hope you've had a nice day. Why don't you rest with me for a while? I made some chocolate chip cookies - with shortening instead of butter, so they're very soft and very chocolatey. I made way too many and they aren't my wife's favorite, so I could use some help in eating them.
You're probably a writer, right? Or maybe you think about how you could be. Browse the tags here, or on other social media platforms. Maybe you used to write stories as a kid. I bet those were fun. Teachers might've thought they were impressive, or they dissected them line by line until the words didn't make sense in your head anymore. Either way, if you're here you're probably here for a reason.
(rant alert)
I dipped a toe in online writing communities on and off. My last attempt was forty-five minutes scrolling through the writing hashtag on Youtube Shorts (so TikTok, I guess? I don't know). I didn't like it. I really didn't. The thing that sticks out the strongest in my mind is one particular video where a woman claims that every story needs a second act plot twist.
Huh? Every story? All of them? Why? Since when? Who are you? What qualifications do you have to make a statement like that?
That's the common thread that makes a lot of writing spaces very uncomfortable for me. Successful writers are really only successful in their genre and for the given moment, so they don't have that much objective authority in the craft. And yet I see a lot of people deciding the things that you can't do in writing. Or the things you have to do, and how you have to do them. It was so much of Writeblr at first glance that I almost dipped out once again. I didn't, though, and I'm glad I didn't because now I get to watch some of the next great storytellers from across the world grow and examine and forge their way forward.
No one can teach you how to write. No, that's not true. Teachers teach literacy. Handwriting. Typing maybe - do schools still teach typing? Let me try saying it in a different way - no one, not one single person on this goddamned planet, has the right to tell you how to make a story.
I was supposed to get my MFA in creative writing before my first breakdown. My uncle stayed in the program I was meant to be in, and a few years after I dropped out he graduated. Recently I had the thought to look up his thesis novella, and as I searched I found myself regretting my decision to leave school. If I stayed and got to develop my writing in an actual class, with other writers and a knowledgeable professor, how much further along would I be than where I am right now?
It was bad. His novella was terrible. It was so bad I had a small existential crisis for, like, three days. He spent so much money on years and years of professional education and came out with a truly soulless story that read as if you prompted an AI to write the next Great American Novel. So if you think you need a writing degree to be a legitimate author, it could help connections-wise, but it ultimately won't be the thing that does the work for you.
Not all advice I see online on writing is bad. I find the people who are able to capture the "I" statements of therapy and phrase advice as things that have worked for them, or things that they personally enjoy, to be fine. Some writing advice can spark inspiration.
But if someone is the type of person to boil every story down to troupes and cliches, and then immediately say that every story that uses the trait they don't like is automatically bad for everyone? I'm dropping the kindness for a second - that's trash. That's a trash take and I see far too many writers use it as a reason to stop before they begin.
I don't like whump. I say my reasons in previous posts if you go back through my blog. But you will never hear me say that any story with whump in it is bad, because I don't know that. You might prove me wrong. I am an adult human being and I have the humility to admit that I can like something I didn't expect to. I genuinely enjoy the direction of The Human Centipede (only the first one) and if you cringed just now that probably means you haven't seen it.
There are so many types of books and movies and plays and comics out there. To enjoy a specific genre is fine, to ignore the existence of everything else is a really, really, really odd thing to do. Maybe someone will hate your story because they think everything should be Neil Gaiman, and therefore have no way to understand your epistolary high-Western. You are not the wrong end of that situation just for existing.
And at there is a definite threshold on how many writing tips you can gather before they stop being useful. If you find them interesting, that's one thing. That's fine. But if the culture of creativity online has made you feel like you need to educate yourself on every possible angle before you can write a story, you are actively harming yourself.
Imagine taking the level of structure you put on yourself in that way and putting it on children playing pretend in the backyard. Oh, Susie, don't you know that it's overdone for your Kitsune have dead parents? Xyler, shouldn't you ask someone else before you decide how Spiderman would react to this? It would make no sense and they do not need it. Kids will make a whole world out of nothing and it's the most fucked thing in my heart that at some point they get access to Reddit and dipshits start insisting that's wrong.
They aren't wrong and you aren't either. Your favorite creative influencer can't tell you your story, strangers on the internet can't tell you your story, your teachers and loved ones can't tell you your story. They can influence it, but they can't write it honestly the way you can.
You do that. That's the thing you do.
Man that makes me upset. I can't tell you how to make a story, either. If anyone sends me asks for writing advice the most I'll do is say what I've done before hopping into your DMs and starting a direct conversation. it's so personal to each individual artist, and I'd like to think that the people selling these classes and software and promoting these platforms haven't thought about that before. Otherwise it does feel manipulative. If you have a willingness to practice and imagine and really experiment with the possibilities, you are ready to write your story.
And if it doesn't work? Try again. That's what you do.
Stephen King has written roughly a thousand books and maybe five of them have decent endings. He is unimaginably successful.
I'm rambling now. I think I got that out of my system. I was really worried to say this out of fear of being too weird or somehow reverse-gatekeeping so hard that it circles back into also being a bad thing. I've just spoken to a lot of people who I still think of throughout my day, and I truly ache for them to get past the fear of creation. Because it's worth it. It's worth it and it's fun, even when it's messy and you're tired.
Let it Be just came on. Beatles. I haven't listened to The Beatles in a long time. Feels a little apropos.
I love you, reader. Reader, Writer, Colleague. Take care of yourself. Especially the little you, still sitting there in the backyard of your soul, bathing in the sun with their bare feet in the damp earth.
Consider joining them, maybe.
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mint-yooxgi · 2 years
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Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader
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Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor
Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Yes, all 8 of them)
Words: 13,318
Warnings: One stabbing mention. Seonghwa gets a little handsy at one point. The boys are very horny for the OC. I make too many direct references to the song and its lyrics, don’t at me please. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: You know, I never expect a simple Drabble to turn into this beast right here, but I'm happy with the way it turned out. Not gonna lie, this fic is a bit self-indulgent at certain parts, but what fic isn’t? Lmaoo anyways, I do not believe Ateez would ever act like this. This is just my interpretation of this particular Drabble request and the yandere archetype. I really hope you all like this one; feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~ (Seriously though guys, please don’t let this flop haha)
Extra: The whole time I was writing this, I had a chubby!reader in mind, but I don’t explicitly describe anything that would indicate that so I don’t feel right tagging it as such. Just know it’s heavily implied, but anyone can read this!!
Mini Masterlist
Driving down the dark desert highway, cool wind whips through your hair. The sun has slowly been setting, its last few rays of light drifting over the land and casting shadows in their wake.
You've been on the road all day, having had the urge to take a spontaneous road trip by yourself. Work has been really hectic lately, so since you have the next three days off, you decided to use them to your advantage.
The only problem is, the last sign of civilization you passed was forty minutes down the road, and you're not quite sure when the next hotel, or even a place to stop for the evening might pop up. Luckily, within the next five minutes, it seems as if your thoughts have been answered, for a hotel appears in the distance.
Pulling into the parking lot, you eye the place skeptically. For a building right smack in the middle of the desert, it sure doesn't look like one. The bright stone walls practically shine beneath the light of the now risen full moon, the place looking more like a resort than anything. Hopefully it's not too expensive then.
Cutting the engine after rolling up the windows, you let out a long breath through your nose. Slowly, you step out of the car, rolling your neck all the while. Standing only makes you realize just how stiff your entire body is, stretching your arms and back out slightly before you slam the car door shut.
Oddly enough, there are no other cars in the parking lot, save for your own. Your brow furrows slightly as you make your way towards the front entrance. Though, you suppose it makes sense. You are in the middle of the desert.
Pushing open the door, you immediately feel the affects of the air conditioned lobby, your shoulders subconsciously relaxing as you step inside. Your eyes skim the name of the hotel as you enter- HALA HALA- it's modern design seeming to fit it well.
Walking up to the reception desk, you notice that no one seems to be in sight. Perhaps you missed someone on your way in, so you opt to turn around, giving the lobby a quick sweep with your eyes. Still, you fail to see anybody, so you turn back around. Maybe there’s a bell you can ring or something.
Your whole body jumps as you see a man now standing behind the counter, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. His split dyed black and blond hair is slicked back and a smile rests on his features.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He says. "My name is Hongjoong, and I'm the manager of this hotel here. How may we be of service?"
You blink, needing a moment to collect your thoughts before you're able to remember the reason why you're here. 
"Oh, right." You chuckle, somewhat awkwardly. "How much is a single room for the weekend? Two nights in particular?"
"Hmm, let's see," Hongjoong hums, typing something into the computer in front of him. His eyes scan the screen, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're in luck. We're having a special this weekend only on our single rooms. Two nights for the price of one."
Your jaw nearly drops at the amount he tells you. "Seriously?"
"Of course." He smiles.
"Great." You say, shock still clear on your face at the outrageously low amount he's quoted you. "I'll take it."
"Perfect." Hongjoong purrs out, eyes becoming hooded as he gives you a quick once over.
Again, you blink, and as soon as you do, his expression is back to being chipper once more. Without another thought, you're reaching into your purse to pull out your credit card, handing it over to Hongjoong in the next moment.
It only takes him a few minutes to ring you up, handing you your card back in the next moment.
"If you have any bags, Wooyoung will be more than happy to help you with them." Hongjoong smiles at you yet again, to which you return.
Thanking him with a nod of your head, you take the keycard he hands you. A shiver runs down his spine as his fingers graze yours, but luckily, you do not seem to notice. 
In the next moment, you go to turn around, coming face to face with yet another man who seemingly appears from thin air.
"Need any help with your bags?" The new male asks, completely oblivious to the startle he just gave you.
"Oh, uh," you stammer out a reply, eyes drifting to another man who now sits on one of the front couches reading a newspaper. You swear he snorts out a laugh at the scene that's just played out before him. Weird, you could have sworn there was no one else in the lobby before. "I think I'm okay, but thanks for the offer."
"Really, it's no problem at all." He insists, already following you out of the front doors and back to your car.
"No, really," you huff out a faint laugh, reaching into the front seat to grab your backpack. "I only have the one."
What you fail to see as you lean into your car, is the way Wooyoung eyes you up and down. Licking his lips, his gaze settles on your ass, thoughts already running wild with what he wants to do with you. Finally, you’re here.
Blinking to clear his thoughts as you pull yourself back out of your car, he grins. Before you can protest, he's slipping your backpack out of your hand and slinging it over his shoulder.
"After you." Wooyoung's eyes shine as he watches disbelief paint your features, followed slowly by acceptance.
Pride fills his chest as you begin to lead him back into the hotel and to your assigned room for the weekend. He can feel Yunho's eyes piercing into his back as he walks past with you in front, the jealousy clear as day within the older male's gaze. The sound of paper rustling from behind him has a smirk pulling on Wooyoung's lips.
Reaching your room, you go to unlock the door.
A gasp escapes your lips as you step through the threshold, and Wooyoung knows that he's going to have to share with his brothers later the memory of that beautiful awestruck expression painting your face. Only, in the next second, worry takes its place.
"I don't think your boss gave me the key to the right room." You say, eyes taking in the grandiose space. "This looks like the Presidential Suite."
"It is." Wooyoung hums, placing your backpack carefully onto the chair beside him once he fully steps into the room.
"This can't be right." You shake your head, moving to rush past him and back into the hall.
"You asked for the single room, didn't you?" He quirks a brow, stepping in front of you to block your path.
"I did, but-"
"Then this is the right room." He assures you. "It is what you payed for."
"I don't think it is," you say, sidestepping him and moving into the hallway.
You manage to make it all the way back to the lobby in no time, walking straight up to the reception desk to see if you can catch Hongjoong once more. Unfortunately, he doesn't appear to be anywhere in sight, nor does that man from earlier that had been sitting and reading the newspaper on the couch. Wooyoung has up and disappeared on you, too. You sigh.
"How may I help you?"
"Holy-" you startle, spinning around to see another unfamiliar man now standing behind the reception desk. Yet again, it's like he’s appeared out of thin air. You clear your throat. "Uh, is Hongjoong around? I need to speak with him."
"He's busy at the moment, unfortunately." The man smiles kindly at you. "I'm Seonghwa, the assistant manager. I'm more than happy to help if there's something wrong. What seems to be the problem?"
"Oh, uh, there's no problem, really," you clarify, a nervous pull to your lips. "I just think Hongjoong gave me the key to the wrong room."
"Did he?" Seonghwa hums, somewhat amusedly. He doesn't blame Hongjoong one bit. The poor male was probably too distracted by your beauty, and the fact that he was finally seeing you in person for the first time. "Let me check for you."
"Thanks, I really appreciate it." You smile, handing the key card to him over the counter. This time, it’s Seonghwa who shivers as his fingers brush your own. ”I think he accidentally gave me the card to the Presidential Suite or something."
Swiping the card through the reader, Seonghwa types a few things on the keyboard. A few moments later, he's placing the keycard back in front of you on the counter.
"No, everything's right on our end. That's the correct key." He informs you.
Your eyes widen, lips parting as clear disbelief takes over your features. "You're sure?”
"Positive." Seonghwa smiles, purposely sliding the card closer to you. "Our policy here is to always put our guests' pleasure above anything else. So really, your reaction to the room is the highest compliment you could give us."
"I- uh-" you blink, taken aback by his words. "Sure?" You don't quite know how to respond, but you take the keycard back, nonetheless. "Thanks."
"Of course." Seonghwa straightens the front of his blazer out, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "I live to serve."
Though he fails to add a key word to the end of his sentence. Most certainly does he live to serve, to please. Most importantly, though, he lives to serve and please you.
“Okay…" Brushing off his words, you turn back around, shooting him a subtle side eyed look at his last comment once he can no longer see your face. 
Heading back to your room, you shake your head, muttering about how odd this place is. First, it's literally in the middle of nowhere. Secondly, the exterior and interior looks brand new, much too pristine for the likes of the desert. Third, you've barely seen another occupant in this hotel besides the staff and that one guy from earlier. Fourth, a single room means the equivalent of a Presidential Suite. And finally, the prices are apparently dirt cheap.
Seriously, just what is going on here?
Shaking your head to clear your thoughts once more, you reenter your room. Well, if you’ve technically payed for it, you might as well enjoy it.
Ten minutes later and you finally figure out how the jacuzzi tub works, allowing your body to sink into the frothing bubbles. The scent of lilac and honey drifts through the air, the complimentary soaps feeling fancier than anything you've ever experienced in your life.
Soaking in the tub for a bit, you allow yourself to relax, basking in the way the water seemingly eases the tension from your body. The only thing that could make this better would be a glass of wine, and maybe a massage, but that can wait for another time.
You close your eyes, letting your head fall back against the headrest as a content sigh leaves your lips. You haven't felt this relaxed in a long time.
Unbeknownst to you, a pair of lustful eyes watches from the shadows. More than anything, wanting desperately to join you. To truly help you relax, in any and every way you desire.
Once you're done, you're quick to dry off, changing into a fresh pair of clothes. Smiling at your reflection in the mirror, you wink at yourself, blowing a kiss in the next moment. You need to start appreciating yourself more. Besides, you look damn good, if you do say so yourself!
Immediately, a thud sounds from behind you, making your heart skip a beat in your chest. Whipping around, your eyes scan the bathroom, searching for anything that could have made that loud noise. Nothing seems out of place, so it doesn’t look like anything could have fallen.
Odd. If you didn't know any better, it almost sounded like someone ran into something, or even stubbed their toe.
You frown, shaking your head. You've had a long drive, and an even longer day. You're probably just imagining things. Besides, you could really use that drink now.
Making your way back towards the lobby, you wander aimlessly, not really sure where to go. You're sure this hotel has a bar somewhere, you're just not sure which direction it would be in. Luckily for you, a plaque that you hadn't noticed before on the wall points you in the direction that you're looking for.
Stepping into the bar area, once again you're taken aback by how empty the place is. Well, empty except for the lone man standing behind the counter wiping at a glass with a cloth in his hand.
Walking up to the counter, you sit down at one of the stools, returning the kind smile the bartender sends your way.
"What can I get for you, pretty one?" The man asks, placing the glass onto the counter in front of himself.
You look down at the pristine wood beneath your hands as a warmth blooms on your cheeks. "Surprise me."
The man takes a moment to observe you carefully, his lips twitching upwards at the corners from seeing the affect his words have on you.
"I know just the thing," he replies, already moving to grab all of the ingredients he'll need to make you a drink. Two minute later and he pushes the now full glass towards you. "Et voila."
"Wow," grabbing the glass with a wonder filled expression, you take a sip. "This is my favourite drink. You must be a mind reader!"
You fail to see the way his brow quirks ever so slightly at your words, his smile turning nervous in the blink of an eye. Just as quickly as the expression appears, it's gone.
"So, what has you here on a Friday night?" He leans against the counter, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he rests his forearms on the edge of the wood. "Lover got you down?"
Your eyes widen, and you're quick to shake your head. "Oh, no. Definitely not."
"Huh," he has to hide the pleased smirk that threatens to pull onto his lips as he confirms what he and his brothers have only hoped. This makes things so much easier. "That's hard to believe, given a pretty one like you."
For the second time this evening, pride swells in his chest at seeing the affect his words have on you.
"Thank you," you mutter, not quite used to men being this bold with you upfront. "You're very kind, uh-"
"Mingi." He replies. “Please. Call me Mingi."
"Well, Mingi," the way you say his name has a pleasant shiver running down his spine. "You're sweet."
The smile that radiates from him nearly knocks the breath out of you.
"Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you," he says, and his eyes flash. "Anything at all."
"Yeah, actually," you nod a few times, looking around the room as if you’re afraid of being overheard. "Be honest," you lean in slightly and he can feel his heart beginning to race in his chest, "is the room service here good?"
"Uh," his brain malfunctions as his eyes glance down to your lips, a completely different form of room service other than what you probably intend flitting through his mind. One which he and his brothers would be more than happy to provide for you. 
He swallows the sudden dryness in his throat. Thank fuck you don't seem to notice.
"You know, since you probably have an in with the cooks cause you're the bartender, and all." Your voice manages to pull him back to reality, and out of his all too vivid thoughts of what kind of room service he could provide for you. "Anything you would recommend? I'm starving."
"Oh, if you're hungry, why didn't you just say so?" He chuckles. "I'll order something for you, and have them bring it over to you here."
"That'd be great, thanks!" You reply happily, taking another sip of your drink. "I don't have any food allergies, by the way. Well, except for lactose, but it's more of an irritant than anything. No heavy creams or full glasses of milk."
Mingi blinks at you, and your mouth parts, a heat once again rising up your neck and all the way up your face. You can't believe you just said all that. To a stranger, no less. 
A smile spreads across his lips, "got it. Thanks for letting me know."
Of course, they all know everything about you. Well, not everything. Yet. Still, it means so much to him how open you already are with him. Mingi knew you'd be perfect for him, for all of them. This just proves it even more.
Heading over to the tablet that he's left at the end of the bar to place an order for you, Mingi's heart warms. Already, he and some of his brothers have been able to show you how well they can take care of you, how well they can provide for you. All so that you will become theirs. And you will be, all in due time. After all, once they have you in their sights, you’ll never be able to leave them again.
"Lucifer Morningstar!" Mingi curses as he rounds the corner of the counter, the thud echoing in your ears as his knee makes contact with the side of the bar.
"Oh my god! Are you okay?" Your eyes widen, watching as he hunches over, hands placed over his one knee as he balances on his opposite foot.
You fail to see the way his eyes flash for the briefest of moments at your own exclamation.
"Yeah," he lets out a breath, easing into one of the barstools beside him. "I'll be fine."
"Ouch," you wince, thinking of how hard he must have banged his knee to have exclaimed that loudly. Speaking of, his words echo through your head, and you cannot contain the laugh that escapes you. When you see him turn his attention from the tablet to look at you, you wave a hand apologetically in the air in front of you. "Sorry, I've just never heard anyone use that exclamation before. Usually, they swear, or say ‘Jesus Christ’, or something like that."
It's low, but you swear you hear a growl reverberate throughout the room.
"Oh," Mingi laughs awkwardly, a nervousness to his demeanour all of a sudden. "Yeah, it's just something my brothers and I always say instead of your typical exclamations."
"Huh," you nod, turning back to the drink still held in your hands. "Interesting."
Not even ten minutes later, another man is entering the bar area with a plate of steaming food in his hands. Jealousy flares within him as he sees you conversing so casually with his brother, a soft smile he's only ever dreamed about being directed towards him resting on your face.
You hardly notice the new presence in the room, but Mingi does, causing a smirk to subtly pull at his features. You're simply too busy conversing with him at the moment. That is, until movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention.
"One freshly cooked meal for the lovely lady," the man says with a flirty smile as he places the plate of steaming food in front of you.
Thanking him politely, you're quick to turn back to Mingi once more. The men at this hotel certainly are something else.
"Okay, have we met before?" Your eyes narrow teasingly at the bartender who sits a few seats away from you. "Twice now you've made my favourite things."
"Hey now," the other man chimes in, a teasing lilt to his voice. "I was the one who cooked it. He didn't make squat."
He continues to stare at you, almost expectantly now, and you're quick to avert your gaze. Turning back to your food, you grab the fork that's been provided, and take a bite.
"Holy shit." You say once you've swallowed the food in your mouth. "This is incredible."
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, Lovely." The man replies, eyes shining with a certain fondness as he watches you eat what he’s prepared for you.
"Seriously, this is best dish of this that I’ve ever had," you say, placing another forkful into your mouth.
He chuckles, loving the way your praise has Mingi glaring dagger at him. Serves him right.
"Oh, where are my manners?" He tuts at himself. "My name is San, and I am very pleased to meet you."
Suddenly, your hand is in his, and he's bringing his lips down to place a gentle kiss onto your skin. Tingles erupt throughout his own body wherever he makes contact with yours, and he has to stop the rumble of contentment that builds within his chest from escaping.
Again, you're taken aback by his boldness, and you swear you see something in Mingi's eyes flash black as San does this. Only, when you blink, it's like nothing ever happened. Weird.
The next hour is spent with the both of them at the bar, simply conversing with each other. You can't count the amount of times they've successfully made you laugh, or even shy at some of the things they say, but they are. 
Purposefully, each time one of them does something that has you reacting a certain way, the other is sure to do the same. There's no way they're letting each other one up them. That is, until Hongjoong is scolding them within their mind's link to knock it off.
All too soon for their liking, you're heading off to bed, much to their disappointment. It is late at night, and you have had a long day. Needless to say, it's starting to all catch up to you. You can feel the exhaustion beginning to claw at your mind.
Falling into the plush bed, you're practically out as soon as your head hits the pillows. Funny, you could have swore you saw something shift within the darkness of your room just before you closed your eyes. Only, you find you're too tired to care, quickly falling into the realm of your subconscious as sleep takes hold.
Within the confines of your room, two figures materialize from the shadows. Carefully, one moves to stand beside you while the other gently sits on the opposite side of the bed.
"I still can't believe that she’s here," Jongho says breathlessly, hand reaching out to caress the side of your face.
"Finally, we have her," Yunho replies, feeling as wonderstruck as Jongho right now.
You shift slightly, breath hitching in your throat. 
They both freeze. Luckily, you don't seem to wake, allowing them to breathe a sigh of relief as they continue to watch over you as you sleep.
“She's so beautiful," Jongho watches you in awe, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek as his heart soars in his chest.
Yunho hums his agreement, his eyes flashing briefly in the darkness. "Ours."
"Ours." Jongho confirms, a content smile pulling at his lips as his own eyes flash, watching over you like he always should. Like he always will be. From now, until forever.
Morning comes with bright light streaming in through the large windows, the sun's rays warming you as you stretch your body out on the bed. A yawn escapes your lips as you rub at your eyes. Sitting up, you throw off the covers, making your way to the bathroom to freshen up for the day.
One look outside the windows, and at your weather app, has a sigh escaping you. It's going to be awfully hot today, the sun shining unapologetically in the sky with few clouds drifting along. In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder what else there is to do in this hotel.
Opening the door to your room, you go to step into the hallway, only for your path to be blocked. Sitting there in front of you is a trolley, what appears to be an extravagant spread of food placed precariously before you. At least, you're hoping that that's what's beneath all these trays with metal food coverings on them.
Leaning out into the hall, you shift your head from side to side, attempting to see if this cart was meant for anyone else. When you don't see anyone around, you look back at the cart. This time, your eyes catch on a folded card placed just beside the small vase with a single red rose held within.
Picking up the note, you're quick to open it, seeing as it's addressed to you. You blink as you read the note over a few times, a soft smile painting your features, yet still surprised, nonetheless.
Please enjoy this complementary breakfast from us to you.
~ Your friends at HALA HALA
Rolling the cart into your room, you're quick to remove all of the coverings. The smell of your favourite breakfast foods greet you as you take in the fresh spread before you. Your jaw nearly drops, torn between thinking that this is incredible, and that something strange is going on here.
Oh well, at least you're getting free food out of this.
Once you're finished eating, you clean up as best you can and head downstairs for the day. A book rests in your hand, figuring that you can find someplace quiet to read and pass the time. Maybe you’ll even listen to music while you do so. 
Reaching the lobby, you figure you can ask Hongjoong or Seonghwa where the best place to read in the hotel might be. Someplace that’s quiet. Someplace that’s comfortable. Luck seems to be on your side this morning, too, for you see both Hongjoong and Seonghwa standing behind the reception desk. They seem to be in a pretty heated discussion, their voices too low to hear even as you approach them. Once you get close enough, they're both turning to you with fond smiles on their faces. You didn't even know they saw you approaching.
"How can we help you, dear?" Seonghwa is the first to speak, meeting your gaze.
"Uh, a bit of a weird question, I know," you begin, somewhat nervously, "but where's the best place to get some reading done around here? You guys don't have a library, do you?"
Even though you say it jokingly, Hongjoong's response surprises you.
"We do," he hums, and seeing your mildly shocked expression, eyes widening and all, has a warmth flooding his veins. He knew he'd be able to impress you with the amount of time and effort they put into this place. "Unfortunately it's closed for cleaning today."
"Aw," your expression falls slightly, "darn."
"I would recommend our outdoor seating area beside the pool," Seonghwa motions a little ways off to the side, and you can see a set of glass doors leading to a courtyard of sorts. "It'll be warm today, so you can also benefit by taking a swim if you'd like.”
"Oh, no, I don't think I'll do any swimming," you shake your head.
At this, they both frown. Your words manage to pull them from their thoughts of holding you in their lap with their arms around you, their head resting on your shoulder as you read.
"Why not?" Before Seonghwa can stop himself, the question escapes him, and even the younger male beside him shoots him a look. Though, where yours is of confusion, Hongjoong's is of warning.
"This is really the best I have," you reply sheepishly, motioning down towards your outfit- a simple t-shirt and shorts- with a tilt of your head.
"Go ahead and at least dip your feet in." Hongjoong replies, softly assuring you with his next words. "No one will judge you here."
"Okay," you smile softly, "maybe I will, then."
Again, you thank the two men before you as you begin to head towards the glass doors Seonghwa pointed out to you. 
Stepping through the archway, the heavy desert heat surrounds you immediately. You let out an exhale through your nose, taking in the sight of the tropical plants around you. There's a small path leading further into the courtyard and to the pool which you can see sitting right in the centre of it. At least there appears to be tons of shade. Just how you like it.
Setting yourself up in one of the plush outdoor chaises, you kick off your sandals. 
Leaning back onto the comfortable pillows, you bring your feet up to rest on the cushion, keeping your knees bent so you can hold your book on your lap. You smile softly as a gentle breeze flits passed. 
Opening your book, you begin to read.
Not even five minutes later, a man approaches you, a glass held in his hand. You tense, worried that something's about to happen considering you're the only one sitting outside by the pool. Or so it seems.
"Here, I thought you might like a glass of water," he smiles kindly at you as he hands you the glass. "You should stay hydrated in this heat."
"Oh," you reply, placing your book down momentarily so that you can take the glass of water he's offering to you. "Thank you."
"Damn, beat me to it already," another voice says from the opposite side of you, successfully managing to startle you as you hadn't heard anyone approaching. "That's our Yeosangie for you."
"Yunho," the man you've now learned is apparently Yeosangie says, his eyes narrowing slightly at the taller male, "what are you doing here?"
The man - Yunho - is one that you recognize form last night. He was the one reading the newspaper in the lobby.
"Seonghwa told me that our very special guest here was sitting by the pool, and that I should bring her some water to help keep her hydrated." He replies, and sure enough, you see another glass of water being held in his hand. "Like I said though, it looks like you beat me to it."
"One can never have too much water," you say, catching both of their attention, and snapping them out of the pointed looks they had just been sharing.
"Right you are, gorgeous," Yunho grins, handing you the second glass.
Your brows raise slightly at the name he calls you. Hell, it seems almost all of the male workers at this hotel have called you some variation of a nickname or pet name at some point or other. Needless to say, it's a bit odd; you aren’t used to this kind of attention.
"Anyways, I'm Yunho," he says with a grin, pointing over at the shorter male in the next moment, "and that grump over there is Yeosang. If you look over there," again, Yunho points in a specific direction, drawing your gaze to the two men that have appeared on the opposite side of the pool, "that's San and Jongho. Though, I heard you already met San last night."
You nod in response, noticing how the one you've recently been told is Jongho waves quite enthusiastically at you with a large smile on his face. You huff in amusement, lips quirking upwards as you send a polite wave back. If you didn't know any better, from the way the male averts his gaze in the next moment, you'd say that you've just made him blush.
"If you need anything, do not hesitate to let us know. " Yeosang draws your attention to him once more, a certain spark lighting behind his eyes. A spark which you do not understand, but the other males do. One that is practically begging for you to come to them, to seek them out for anything and everything you might need. Anything at all.
"Thanks," you smile. "I appreciate it."
Really, you'd just like to be left alone to read your book now in peace.
"Well, we'll leave you to read in peace now," Yunho grins, walking over and wrapping his arm around Yeosang's shoulders. “Enjoy.”
Blinking in shock, your whole body tenses. Okay, this is starting to get a bit freaky. It’s almost as if Yunho just read you mind.
Shaking your head slightly to clear your thoughts, you grab your book once more. No, that isn’t possible. You’re just overthinking things due to the stressful week of work you’ve just had. This is your chance to relax, and you have every intention to do so.
Opening your book once more, you begin to read.
Across from you, the four boys converge. 
Jongho is still reeling from having you smile so brightly at him, and you waved back. Yeosang, on the other hand, crosses his arms, his eyes narrowing at the three males before him. Yunho watches you carefully from across the pool, his eyes subtly trailing over your form. Even San cannot help but drink in the exposed skin of your legs on full display, the sight of your bare thighs making his mouth water.
What each wouldn’t give to be between them right now…
“Control yourselves,” Yeosang hisses through his teeth, sending pointed looks towards San and Yunho, “the both of you.”
“Like you haven’t been thinking the exact same things since you saw them.” San rolls his eyes, keeping his voice low while Yunho just chuckles from beside him.
“At least I have some subtlety,” Yeosang huffs, annoyance clear on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest. “The decency to not have my thoughts project themselves into everyone else’s subconscious.”
Well, I for one, was rather enjoying the mental image of her lounging in that chair by the pool. Wooyoung’s voice echoes through all of their minds. I’d much rather be out there spending time with her, you lucky bastards. Instead, I’m stuck inside on cleaning duty.
Stop complaining. They can all practically hear Hongjoong roll his eyes. You’re the one who begged to be the one to tidy up her room.
That I did. Wooyoung hums. Really, you guys are missing out. Her scent is everywhere.
Now you’re just rubbing it in. Mingi sighs, and they can all hear the pout in his voice.
Oh, panties! Wooyoung cheers, and they all practically let out a groan in need. And they’ve been worn! Don’t mind if I ‘yes’.
Wooyoung. Seonghwa’s voice echoes through their heads, serving as a warning. That is, until they hear his next words. Save some for the rest of us, yeah?
You’re all despicable. Yeosang has to resist the urge to shake his head.
Says the one who was peeping on them having a bath last night. San adds, hiding his smirk behind his drink as he takes a sip.
Immediately, Yeosang’s cheeks flare, his harsh gaze landing on the aforementioned male. That’s different!
Relax. Yunho chuckles, leaning back in his own chaise as he watches you turn the next page of your book. So beautiful, and so oblivious to the desire swirling within each of them for you, and you alone.
We’ve all thought about it before. Jongho adds.
Well, some more than others. Hongjoong’s laugh reverberates through all of them. Let’s just make sure everything is ready for tonight. Then we can really have our fun.
Without hesitation, they all agree, and unbeknownst to you, four pairs of eyes turn to look at you from across the pool. You don’t even look up from your book. At least, not until movement catches your attention. Then, you cannot help the way your eyes widen, gaze flitting between the pages of your book and subtly attempting to check out the male making his way over to the edge of the pool.
"Put a shirt on, you heathen." Yeosang hisses at San. "You're making them uncomfortable.”
San simply quirks a brow, turning to face Yeosang in the next second. His expression says it all. 
A smugness soon settles over his features as he feels your gaze trailing over the expanse of his back. The skin of which he knows would look even better if it were covered in your marks. He rolls his shoulders.
Turning back around, San watches you quickly avert your gaze, focussing a little too intently on the page you’re now on in your book. He smirks, slowly sitting at the edge of the pool so that he can lower himself in. Purposefully, he tenses the muscles in his arms as he sinks in, wanting- no, needing- your gaze on him. As soon as he feels your stare, he knows he’s captivated you once more.
See? See how toned his arms are? How well they would look wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear? San bets you would sound so divine as he makes the sweetest love to you, but he knows that you’ll taste even better.
He doesn’t even need to probe your mind to know you’re thinking about him, too.
Okay, now you’re just showing off. Mingi whines.
Not my fault you got caught having to set up for tonight. San smirks, and he watches as you seemingly come back to reality, only to see that smug expression on his face. 
You avert your gaze, embarrassed you got caught staring yet again. Reaching for one of the glasses of water on the table beside you, you suddenly feel your body going hot. All of these attractive men will be the death of you, you’re sure.
You fail to see the way their lips quirk upwards as a result.
Taking a sip of water, you feel yourself start to relax at the coldness that meets your tongue. Carefully, you tilt your head to the side, placing the cool of the glass onto the skin of your neck. You let out a content hum, eyes fluttering closed as a result. At least this is helping to cool you off.
Jongho swallows the sudden dryness in his throat, and he’s knows he’s not the only one affected by your actions. The sudden display of your neck as you tilt your head back, so open and vulnerable, is practically begging for them to have a taste of your delicate skin with their tongues. Perhaps a few bite marks would suffice as well…
Thoughts of tonight, and what is still yet to come fill Jongho’s head, and he can feel the anticipation eating him alive. Making you theirs could not come soon enough.
Speaking of… Hongjoong’s voice resounds through the younger’s head. Jongho, it’s time.
The other three watch as Jongho stands from his spot, beginning to slowly make his way over to you. There’s a sort of nervousness to his steps, one which they all understand. Your answer right now will depend on how the beginning of this afternoon and evening with them will begin.
Glancing up from the pages of your book, you notice Jongho now hovering near you.
“Do you mind if I sit with you?” A soft smile rests on his features as he meets your gaze, an air of nervousness surrounding him.
“Uh, sure.” You blink, quirking a brow at him in curiosity in the next second. “Those guys bothering you too much, or something?”
Even though you say it teasingly, Jongho lets out a chuckle, “you could say that.”
Slowly, and with each move deliberate, Jongho takes the seat directly beside you. It’s the closest he can get to you currently without sitting in the same chaise with you, and pulling you into his lap like he so badly wants to do.
Soon. He tells himself. He’ll be able to do that soon.
A few minutes pass by, and it kills him not to have your direct attention on him like his is so attuned to you. No, you’re still much more focussed on your book for the moment. That is, until your tongue clicks loudly, your book slamming closed once you place your bookmark carefully back inside.
“That bad, huh?” He jokes, one of his eyebrows raised in amusement as he looks at you.
“You don’t know the half of it,” you roll your eyes. “But it’s the last book in the series and I’ll be damned if I don’t see it to completion.”
“Why do you continue to read it if it’s that horrible?” Jongho’s head tilts, genuine curiosity shining in his eyes.
“Spite.” You reply immediately. “Pure spite.”
Jongho blinks, intrigued. “What’s it about?”
So you tell him, and fuck, if Jongho doesn’t fall harder for you right then and there. The passion in which you speak with, the fire he sees light behind your eyes as he watches you wave the book around in your hand, even going to far as to hit the cover a few times to emphasize your points, has him hanging on to every word. 
You’re so captivating; mesmerizing to watch and listen to, that he doesn’t even realize just how much time has passed since he first came to sit beside you. Plus, he’s gotten to learn so much about you in such a short period of time. Ecstatic doesn’t even begin to describe how he’s feeling at the moment.
The only thing that would make this moment better would be if you agreed to what he’s about to ask you.
“Anyways, sorry for the long ass rant,” you apologize, somewhat sheepishly. “There’s just so much I could say about these books and this author.”
“Never feel like you should apologize for something you’re passionate about.” Comes his honest reply. “Especially not to me. I could listen to you talk for hours.”
Jongho’s words catch you by surprise, stunning you into a shy silence. In the back of your mind, his bluntness makes something within you question his words. You’ve only just met, and he’s being very forward. Still, his smile is kind, and it causes you to crack a small one of your own.
“Really, though,” he adds, a calculating look to his gaze now. One which you miss. “We’re hosting a special dinner tonight for everyone. You should join us.”
“Everyone at the hotel?” You question, a minor furrow to your brows.
“You could say that.” Jongho nods. “We’d really love it if you could attend.”
“How fancy are we talking here?”
Jongho smiles. You seem interested, and he could not be happier. “Wear you finest.”
“Oh.” Immediately, your expression falls. “I don’t think I’ll be able to attend, then. I’m afraid I don't have anything with me that’s appropriate for a dinner like that.”
“No need to worry,” Jongho assures you. “There’s a tailor’s shop that Seonghwa runs at the far end of the hotel. I’m sure there’s something there that you can wear for the evening.”
“That’s…” you try and find the right word. Suspicious. Convenient. “Interesting.”
“Great! We’ll be expecting you around eight.” Jongho stands, and it’s only now do you realize that the other three males have vacated the vicinity, leaving the two of you utterly alone. Something in his eyes flash, the smile that paints his lips serving to unnerve you slightly. “Don’t be late.”
Without another word, or even giving you the chance to respond, Jongho is leaving you to yourself by the pool.
Glancing around, you blink a few times, hardly able to wrap your head around not even seeing the others so much as leave. Checking the time, you see that it’s about halfway past two in the afternoon. Perhaps you should go check out this tailor’s place Jongho had mentioned earlier. The last thing you want to do is be stuck without an outfit for tonight, especially if they’re now expecting you for dinner.
A few minutes later, and after dropping off your book back to your room, you’re standing in front of the doors to the tailor shop. Taking a breath, you step inside.
Quite a spacious room greets you, fairly open concept in design with clothes scattered along the walls on different racks. They seem to be organized by type, and a part of you wonders if some of these clothes have been accidentally left behind or forgotten by previous patrons of the hotel.
The sound of a curtain sliding on a rail catches your attention, and your eyes are drawn to the back of the shop where Seonghwa seems to emerge from.
“Ah, there you are. I’ve been expecting you.” He smiles, and at your questioning look, he adds, “Jongho was just here to fill me in on what you need.”
“Uh,” there’s a certain drawl to the way he says those words that have your lips parting slightly. You clear your throat. “That was quick.”
“Come.” Seonghwa seemingly brushes off your statement, turning around to step back through the way he came. “I’ve got a few options you might like.”
Following him into the back of the shop, you realize that there’s a small fitting area with a large panelled mirror positioned around a raised circular stand. A dressing room rests just beside it, another curtain drawn in front of it for some semblance of privacy. To the opposite side of the mirror, a rack rests with eight different dresses hanging delicately on silk hangers.
The awe filled expression that rests on your face has his heart racing in his chest, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “Pick out your favourite, and then you can try it on.”
You step closer to the rack, hands ghosting the material of the gowns.
“Are you sure these aren’t too…” you hesitate, searching for the right word as you turn to meet his gaze, “extravagant for me?”
“If anything, none of them could ever do you justice.” His honest reply has a heat rising to your cheeks, and even though you turn to continue inspecting the dresses, you can feel his gaze piercing your back. 
Saying nothing, your gaze lands on one dress in particular. Pulling it slightly out from the rack, you examine the lace material. The black colour which starts at the swooped neckline slowly transitions into a navy, until it fades into a royal blue at the very bottom of the floor length skirt. Plus, as an added bonus, there are lace sleeves which look as if they’ll reach all the way down your arms and to your wrists. You’ve never seen a dress more perfect for you, or that you’ve loved more at first glance.
“Do you like that one?” Seonghwa’s voice manages to pull you out of your own thoughts, an eagerness to his words. He knew he picked right when he grabbed that gown for you. The thought alone of you wearing it nearly sent him to his knees, and it’s in his favourite colours, too.
“I do.” You confirm with a hum, looking over the dress for another time.
There’s only one slight issue that you can see. The dress appears to be slightly form fitting, and you’re not sure how it may look on you.
“Well, go on then,” he encourages with a smile, motioning to the dressing room behind you. “Try it on.”
For a brief moment, you hesitate, your hand pausing halfway when you go to reach for the hanger. That is, until you decide that there’s really no harm in simply trying it on. If you don’t like it, there are several others you can choose from. Besides, the red one you see hanging right next to it is definitely not a bad second choice.
Gently, you remove the dress from the rack, stepping into the small dressing room in order to change. Fortunately for you, the dress seems to fit like a glove - having no issues slipping into it, and pulling the zipper up with ease. Unfortunately for you, there’s no mirrors in this little dressing room, which means you have to step outside in order to see how you look wearing the gown. 
Really, in hind sight, you saw this coming. However, faced with the prospect of stepping out in a slightly form fitting gown in front of a man you don’t know, a handsome man who has complimented you, nonetheless, you find yourself feeling a bit self conscious. Perhaps this dress wasn’t the best choice after all. Still, you really do want to see how you look.
Taking a deep breath to steel your nerves, you slide the curtain open.
“Wow,” Seonghwa’s breath gets stolen right from his lungs as he sees you step out in his dress. His desire for you, which roars unashamedly beneath the surface of his skin, becomes the most difficult it’s even been to hold back. So much so, that he lets his eyes slip for the briefest of moment, the darkness swirling within.
Thank fuck you don’t seem to notice, too busy smoothing out the front of the material as worry seems to tug at your features.
“That bad, huh?” You grimace, fingers twitching at your sides as you stand there in front of the mirror, tense as anything. “I knew I shouldn’t have-“
“You look beautiful.” His raw voice- a few tones deeper than usual and on the verge of sounding strained- rumbles out from his chest.
So badly does he just want to walk over to you, rip that dress right off, and pull you into his arms as he pleases you in any and every way he knows how. He’s glad he blocked off his mind link with the others for this occasion, otherwise they’d receive his much too vivid thoughts about taking you up against the wall right now and claiming you as his like he’s always longed to do.
Besides, they wanted who’s dress you wore tonight at dinner to be a surprise.
Seonghwa’s lips part as he swallows the dryness in his throat, attempting to at least control his breathing to no avail. You really have no idea the effect you have on him, on all of them, do you?
Lifting your head to meet his gaze through the reflection of the mirror, you’re caught off guard by how dark his eyes have become. Even his breathing has gone irregular, his chest rising and falling dramatically with each inhale that he takes.
When you blink, you expect it to all just be your imagination. Only, this time, that does not seem to be the case. Seonghwa is still looking at you with those eyes when you reopen your own - dark eyes filled with an undeniable lust for you.
Slowly, Seonghwa begins to close the distance between the two of you, stalking towards you like a predator would its prey. You cannot help but freeze, eyes following his every movement as he comes to stand behind you. The way he places his hands tenderly onto your waist, holding onto you so gently, completely contrasts the darkness continuously swirling within his irises.
Tilting his head forward, Seonghwa presses the lower half of his face against your shoulder, placing his lips onto your bare skin. His eyes flutter closed, nose slowly trailing up the side of your neck as he shifts to breathe in your scent.
A shiver runs down your spine as you feel the ghost of his breath tickle you right below your ear. Your heart jumps into your throat.
Of all the words he could use to describe you right now - sinful, breathtaking, gorgeous, his - he finally settles on the perfect one.
“Divine.” He exhales, voice low as he leans forward to rest his head against your own.
Your breath hitches as you feel his grip tighten around your waist, fingers sinking into the softness of your skin as he scents you once more. The uncertainty he can sense coming off of you has him halting in his tracks, a sense of dread washing over him. He might have taken things a bit too far just now. You’re not even officially theirs yet. 
He silently curses himself. What good is control when he apparently doesn’t seem to have any around you? You make him go crazy. You’re just so irresistible.
Feeling his grip slacken ever so slightly, you move to turn around in his arms. Only, when you twist your body to face him, he’s no longer standing behind you. Instead, he seems to be rummaging around in a box off to the side, not even looking at you.
Did you just imagine what just happened?
You shake your head. That can’t be possible. You aren’t that touched starved so as to imagine intimate scenarios with the first handsome man who gives you an ounce of attention. At least, you don’t think you are.
“Oh, are you finished looking over the dress?” Seonghwa hums, head lifting to meet your gaze. Straightening himself back up with a small smile on his face, you notice  an elegant pair of shoes in his hands. “You’ve been staring at your refection for quite a while. Is everything okay?”
You blink. Did you really just zone out for the last few minutes?
“Yeah-” you clear your throat. “Yeah. Everything fine.”
“If you’re still not sure if you like the gown, why don’t you try it with these?” He offers you the shoes that he holds in his hand. “They should fit.”
“Oh,” you take the shoes from his outstretched hand, “thanks.”
It was only for a second, but his fingers grazed your own. Immediately he felt that all too familiar beast stirring within him, and after he had just managed to calm it down, too. His hands are still burning from being able to feel you beneath his touch.
Slipping the shoes onto your feet, you turn to your reflection once more. This time, a smile rests on your features as you take in your appearance. You really do look stunning.
“Are you really sure I can wear this tonight?” Your voice manages to call Seonghwa’s attention once more. “I mean, is it really okay if I borrow it?”
“Of course!” His answer is immediate, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles at you. “In fact, why don’t you keep it? It looks far better on you than the hanger, anyways.”
Again, a warmth spreads itself across your cheeks as you glance away shyly. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, Darling.” He hums, a fond look shining within his eyes. “Now, why don’t you change and I’ll wrap up that dress for you?”
“Alright,” you reply softly, already heading back into the little dressing room and sliding the curtain shut behind you.
In no time at all, you’re back into your regular clothes, gown resting on the hanger once more. You take a moment to admire the material again before exiting the dressing room, the dress draped over your arm.
Handing it over to Seonghwa, he places it into a carrying bag for you, careful not to damage the material. The sound of the zipper closing pulls you out of your thoughts, many of which you’ve been attempting to sort through in the past few minutes alone.
“If you need any help with your makeup, I’m sure Hongjoong would be more than happy to assist you.” Seonghwa tells you, handing you the bag with the gown held within.
“I didn’t know he could do makeup,” you hum, impressed. “That’s pretty cool. I think I’ll be okay, though.”
With a nod of his head and a final farewell until tonight, Seonghwa watches you leave the little tailor’s shop. His eyes follow you for as long as he can, and as soon as you disappear from his sight, a sigh is falling from his lips. 
Running his fingers through his hair, he shakes his head. 
You really have no idea what you do to him. To all of them. How long they’ve waited just to catch a glimpse of you in person, planning everything out perfectly down to each and every last minute. Nothing is going to stop them from finally claiming what they’ve all long since desired. 
By the end of the night, you will be theirs.
Making it back to your room, you’re quick to step inside. Carefully, you hang the dress off to the side for later tonight, a soft smile tugging at your lips. Glancing at the time, you see a few hours have passed already, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 
There’s no way time should have moved that quickly! It should have only taken you an hour, maybe an hour and a half at most to have tried on that dress with Seonghwa. You could have swore it was only half passed two when you first made your way over there. So, how can it already be five o’clock?
You huff, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. Maybe you really are losing it. First, you’re missing seeing people that are apparently right in front of your eyes. Then, you keep swearing you’re hearing things, like that weird thump in the bathroom last night. Now, you’re pretty sure you’re starting to hallucinate things.
Perhaps it’s best if you leave this place after dinner tonight instead of in the morning like you originally planned. You would leave sooner, but they’re already expecting you for the evening, and you do not want to be rude. Especially given everything they’ve done and provided for you in the past twenty-four hours alone.
Either way, you just hope this evening passes quickly, and without a hitch.
An hour later and you begin to get ready for the evening. You’re just glad you remembered to pack your makeup bag. Once you’re finished, you still have a bit of time to spare, so you spend the remainder reading some more of your book while you wait. Around five to the hour, you head to the lobby.
Emerging from the hallway, you actually see someone standing in front of the reception desk wearing a finely tailored suit. You watch as the man turns around, and you come face to face with Yeosang whose eyes light up as soon as he sees you. You return his kind smile with a polite nod of your head.
“I’m here to escort you to dinner.” He says, extending an arm out to you. “Shall we?”
You loop your arm around his, “we shall.”
As Yeosang walks with you down a separate hall and to a section of the hotel you have yet to traverse, he revels at your touch. The feeling of your arm wrapped around his is like no other, skin tingling beneath the material of his suit wherever you touch. The whole time, he cannot help but steal glances at you from the corner of his eyes.
When he first saw you emerge from the hallway, his breath got caught in his throat. You look absolutely divine, even if you’re not wearing the dress he had picked out for you in hopes that you would wear it. 
His jaw had twitched at that, slight irritation flooding his veins at the thought of you wearing Seonghwa’s gown tonight. Well, let’s see what the others make of it, and if they think the eldest might have influenced your decision as well.
After a solid minute of walking, in which you make idle smalltalk with Yeosang, you reach a set of intricately carved wooden doors. You marvel at both the size and design as they open, seemingly on their own, to reveal a finely decorated room. A room which looks much too small to house all of the guest that you were sure were going to be joining you for dinner. 
A single table with nine place settings sits in the centre of the room, lit candles lining the middle.
Around the table, the other seven stand precariously placed throughout the room. Some converse with each other while a few others sip on the drinks they all seem to be holding in their hands. Each wears a finely tailored suit, wanting to look their absolute best for you.
As soon as those doors open, and they see you walking through the threshold being escorted by Yeosang, all of their focus immediately belongs to you.
Heartbeats accelerate all around, shivers running down a few of their spines as they take in the ethereal being that is you standing before them. Each man takes his time trailing his gaze over your body, drinking in the image that is you, and searing this moment into their memories for years to come.
Finally, after all of their planning, after all of their efforts and hard work, there you stand. Ready for their taking.
A few send pointed looks in Seonghwa’s direction at seeing the choice in dress you’re wearing, but they can deal with that later. Even if you are not wearing their own chosen gown for you, there is no denying your beauty.
Mingi is the first to seemingly snap out of the spell you’ve captivated them in at your arrival. Instantly, he’s appearing at your side, offering you a glass similar to all of theirs. You take it with a small nod in thanks, noticing how Yeosang already seems to be holding one of his own. You didn’t even notice him take one.
Taking a sip of your drink, your eyes search the room once more.
“Not to be rude, or presumptuous, or anything,” you begin, a look of mild confusion on your face, “but isn’t this dinner supposed to be for everyone staying at the hotel?”
“It is,” Hongjoong confirms, a gentle expression taking over his features. “Everyone is already here.”
He seriously cannot be telling you that you are their only guest at this hotel. It’s impossible.
“I know,” Yunho chuckles. “It’s hard to believe that you’re our only guest.”
There he goes again, seemingly reading your mind.
“Please,” Hongjoong motions to the table before you, “join us.”
A smile that you’re sure is meant to assure you appears on his face, only serving to unnerve you at the way his eyes lock onto your figure, watching your ever move.
Stepping towards the table, you see Seonghwa already pulling a chair out for you to sit in. Of course it would have to be the one right in the centre of the set of three. 
Four chairs rest across from you, while two more sit at each head.
Slowly, you take your seat, allowing Seonghwa to tuck you in while thanking him politely. 
As if they’ve done this countless times before, the eight men slide up to the table beside their own respective seats, moving fluidly as one to sit down. Hongjoong sits to your left while Seonghwa takes the seat to your right. Mingi sits at one head of the table, while San takes the other end. Across from you rests Yunho, Yeosang, Jongho, and Wooyoung in that order exactly, starting from your left.
You’re starting to think you stumbled upon a cult or something by accident.
Wooyoung has to cover up a snort of laughter just as he goes to take a sip of his drink, choking on the liquid in the next second. Jongho pats his back comfortingly.
“Are you alright?” Your brow furrows in concern as you look at the male across from you.
“Never better.” He clears his throat, offering you a cheeky grin in response.
In the next moment, Yunho is drawing your attention onto him as he asks you a question, a casual conversation soon starting between the nine of you. The more time you spend surrounded by these eight men, the more you start to relax. You don’t necessarily feel uncomfortable around them, it’s just the hotel that’s giving you such an ominous feeling.
Perhaps that’s where you go wrong.
It happens so suddenly, that you almost miss it. One second the place settings in front of you are empty, and the next, a steaming plate of food appears before your very eyes.
You startle in your seat, pressing yourself as far into the back of it as you can. With wide eyes, you stare down at your meal.
“Is something the matter?” Hongjoong asks, and you look up to find eight pairs of eyes all staring at you.
“Uh-” your voice catches in your throat, not quite sure how to describe the phenomenon that has just occurred in front of you.
“San worked very hard all evening on the meals,” Hongjoong adds, a glimmer in his eyes.
“I hope you enjoy!” Said man calls from just off to the side.
“Right,” you reply, somewhat warily. How can they all be acting like nothing abnormal just happened? “Thanks.”
Picking up your utensils, you clutch the steak knife tightly in your hand. Intently, you stare down at your food, half expecting your asparagus to come alive in the next second and start swishing from side to side like dragon tails.
“Go ahead,” Jongho catches your gaze from across the table, a piece of steak already speared on his fork and poised in the air halfway to his mouth. “Dig in.”
Immediately, you comply, worried you might appear rude for hesitating for so long before taking a bite of your meal. Softly, you chew the bite of your steak, the flavour melting on your tongue.
“Well?” San looks to you, almost expectantly.
“It’s delicious,” you reply, your whole demeanour calming as you see that look of joy take over his features. “Like always.”
“Our Sannie really knows how to cook,” Mingi says, a teasing lilt to his voice despite his praise.
“He’s the only one who won’t burn down the kitchen if left alone in one.” Yeosang replies, and you notice the way Mingi looks almost scandalized at his words.
“I would never!” He gasps dramatically.
The laugh that they all hear fall from your lips is like music to their ears.
The more they continue to bicker, the more you seem to ease back into your own comfort around them. You even go so far as to chime in here and there once again in the conversation, much to each of their pleasure, and relief in some cases. Just as you’re beginning to converse with Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang about your favourite books, Wooyoung spares a glance around the table, locking gazes with the man sitting across from him.
So, are we going to discuss how our eldest here influenced our beloved to wear his dress? Wooyoung’s eyes narrow ever so subtly at the man before him.
Do you really think that little of me, brother? Seonghwa hums in response, quirking his brow slightly in challenge.
He’s not the only one suspicious of what your intentions were. San chimes in, resting his elbows on the table in front of him and clasping his hands beneath his chin, seeing as he’s finished his meal for the time being.
I had no influence over her decision what-so-ever. She made that choice all on her own. Seonghwa replies. It’s not my fault you all seem to lack taste.
Mingi chokes on his drink, blood rushing to the tips of his ears as annoyance floods his veins. At least you spare him a concerned glance, your inquiry into whether he’s okay or not immediately soothing his anger.
Watch it, Hwa. Hongjoong warns, sparing a glance at the male from the corner of his eyes, only to get enraptured by your excited expression in the next moment.
What happened in there, anyways? Yeosang adds without so much as breaking eye contact with you.
Wouldn’t you like to know? Seonghwa leans back slightly in his seat, a certain smugness surrounding him.
Yes. Jongho’s voice echoes through their heads. I think we’d all like to know that.
What did you do? Yunho asks, somewhat accusatory. He’s still suspicious that the eldest had something to do with which dress you picked for this evening, just as the rest of them are.
Fucking hell. Seonghwa lets out a small puff of air, low enough that you do not take notice. In a flash, Seonghwa is sharing his memories with the rest of them. Well, only certain aspects of them. There. Happy now?
No. Mingi grumbles. Now, I just feel worse.
Somehow knowing you were telling the truth makes my blood boil. Yeosang adds bitterly.
Can we not focus on how wonderful she looks instead? Jongho questions, a glint of awe shining in his eyes as he looks across the table at you while resting his head in the palm of his hand.
Has anyone thought to compliment her yet tonight? Hongjoong’s brow furrows only slightly as he doesn’t recall any of them showering you with any of the praise you deserve.
“By the way, I must say,” Wooyoung speaks, drawing your full, undivided attention towards him, “you look absolutely riveting this evening. That dress looks wondrous on you.”
“Oh, uh,” instantly, heat flares to your cheeks and your eyes go wide. A mental image of your little escapade, or rather, what you think you had simply imagined in that shop with Seonghwa flits through your mind. You blink, unaware of how the males around you all stiffen, the air in the room shifting in intensity. “Thank you.”
Park Seonghwa. The way Hongjoong drawls his name out has the elder male holding his breath in anticipation. Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us?
Not particularly. Either Seonghwa is incredibly brave to continue hiding this from his brothers, or incredibly stupid. As soon as he feels seven mental spears probing at his mind, he knows it’s the latter.
A thwack resounds around the room as Yunho bangs his knee from beneath the table, the sound enough to make you jump.
“I thought we agreed not to touch her, to indulge in her until she was finally ours.” Hongjoong’s voice is low, ominous, as he stares right past you to the male directly to your right.
“You can’t blame me!” Seonghwa replies. “I know any of you would have done the same if given the chance. Don’t act so innocent here.”
Your eyes widen, heart hammering in your chest at his words. You have no idea what’s going on now, and you don’t think you want to stick around to find out.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mingi warns, making eye contact with you just as the thought of fleeing crosses your mind.
“Okay, just what the hell is going on here?” Your voice draws all of their attention to you once more, and you end up shrinking back in your seat when you suddenly find yourself beneath the gazes of all eight men’s stares.
“There’s no point in keeping it from you any longer. You were bound to find out anyways, this is just not how we planned on telling you.” Hongjoong sighs, leaning back in his chair as he closes his eyes for a brief moment. “I’m sure you’ve noticed something’s amiss by now.”
“Tell me what?” Fear spikes within you. “That you guys are all part of some weird cult?”
Wooyoung, Yunho, San, and Mingi all burst out laughing at your words.
“You could say that,” Yeosang sighs. “It certainly feels like it sometimes.”
Your heartbeat rings in your ears.
“Stop that, you’re scaring her.” Jongho frowns.
Before you can say another word, someone is beating you to it.
“No, we’re not cultists.” Seonghwa sighs. “Though, I don’t think you’re going to feel much better learning what our true nature is.”
“Your ‘true nature’?” The furrow in your brow deepens, panic clear now on your features. “Don’t tell me you all think you’re vampires, or some shit like that.”
“Not quite,” San chuckles from the end of the table.
“More like demonic entities, if you will.” Again, that unnerving smile is back on Hongjoong’s features.
Your heart jumps into your throat. “You’re demons?”
“More or less,” Yunho shrugs casually, as if this is a conversation they have every day.
“No.” You state, placing a hand onto of the table to brace yourself with. “No. This isn’t possible.”
“Anything is possible, my dear,” Seonghwa grins. Truly, a chilling sight which sends a shiver right down your spine.
“This is insane.” You hiss, shaking your head as you stare at your hand placed on the table. Your fingers brush against something familiar.
“The first step towards sanity is embracing the insane.” Hongjoong replies, and you turn to see him stand from his chair.
“Do you really think that everything that’s happened to you within the past thirty-six hours has been natural?” Hongjoong cocks his head at you as he tilts your chair slightly to face him. “We have powers that you cannot even begin to comprehend, Love.”
You swallow the dryness in your throat. “I don’t believe you.”
“It wasn’t some random force that compelled you to take a road trip on your one weekend off,” Hongjoong grins, his eyes flashing black. “It was us.”
A gasp escapes you as his dark eyes lock onto yours. So you haven’t been imagining things. Their eyes really do shift black.
With your heartbeat ringing through your ears, you lean as far back in your seat as you can to get away from him. Your one hand still rests firmly on the table beside you, and you can feel the other’s eyes on you, watching your every move. Waiting with bated breath. For what, you’re not quite sure, but if they have strong powers, and what you’ve been experiencing- been assuming- is all true, then they can also read your mind. Your thoughts are no longer safely your own.
“What is it that you want from me, then?” You meet Hongjoong’s gaze, and you watch as it softens.
“I thought we all made that obvious by now,” he shares a quick glance with the males all sitting around the table, grins pulling onto all of their faces. “We just want you.”
“Me?” To say you’re caught off guard would be an understatement. “You mean you want my soul?”
“Sure, your soul would be nice.” Mingi nods.
“To have and to hold,” Jongho agrees with a nod of his own.
“To cherish and protect,” Wooyoung adds.
“To love and to care for.” San hums, taking another sip from his drink.
“Only if you give it to us willingly,” Seonghwa’s voice is surprisingly soft; tender.
“But never for us to take.” Yeosang shakes his head slightly, as if to emphasize his words.
“Or to keep.” Yunho assures you.
You spare a glance around you as best as you can, confusion clear in your eyes. “I don’t follow.”
“What we’re saying is,” Hongjoong takes a moment to meet your gaze, a tender look shining behind his irises as a smile tugs at the corner of his lips, “we want you. All of you. Mind, body, and soul.”
You can do nothing but stare at him, words failing you as your lips part. You swear your heart is about to burst with how intensely it thunders away in your chest.
“Of course, we would love it if you agreed to become ours willingly,” Hongjoong adds, and you can hear the underlying threat beneath his words. At the sense of fear that spikes within you, he’s quick to assure you. “I promise you that we would never hurt you.”
“We only want to love you,” Seonghwa adds softly.
“To cherish you,” Mingi breathes.
“To protect you,” San voices gently.
“To worship you,” Wooyoung says, voice barely above a whisper.
“To live out the rest of our lives together,” Yeosang’s breath catches slightly in his throat.
“To always be there for you,” Jongho nods his head assuringly in your direction.
“You are everything to us,” Yunho whispers, voice raw with the honesty of his words.
“So please,” Hongjoong draws your attention back to him, his forehead coming to rest against your own as he stares deeply into your eyes, “won’t you let us?”
A small silence settles over the nine of you as you allow their words to sink in. You can barely form any cohesive thoughts, sitting as still as you possibly can as you attempt to wrap you head around this turn of events. Never did you expect for this to happen.
Your lips part, and they all find themselves holding their breaths, greatly anticipating your answer.
“No.”
Hongjoong blinks. This time, it’s his turn to be stunned by your response, pulling away slightly in his shock. “No?”
“No.” You repeat, much firmer this time.
Before any of them can say anything, or even react for that matter, you’re stabbing Hongjoong with your steak knife and pushing him off of you. Standing from your seat with enough force to knock your chair off its balance, you send it toppling to the floor. Not even a moment later, you’re sprinting for the door and out of the dining room, fleeing down the hallway in which you first arrived from.
Your footsteps echo down the corridor as the eight men can only sit there, stunned for the moment at this turn of events. Well, that didn’t go at all how they had planned.
In the blink of an eye, San, Wooyoung, Mingi, and Yeosang have disappeared, chasing after you without a second thought.
“She stabbed me.” Hongjoong voices incredulously, disbelief clear on his face. “She stabbed me.”
“Yes, and?” Seonghwa quirks a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watches Hongjoong pull the knife out of his shoulder, blood dripping onto the floor as he stares intently at the weapon in question. “How does that make you feel?”
“Honestly?” Hongjoong looks over at the older male, nodding his head slightly in awe. “Impressed and horny.”
“Come on,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes at his leader. “Let’s go get our girl.”
Nothing but the sound of the knife clattering to the ground echoes throughout the room as the remaining four of them teleport to where you managed to run off to. You didn’t get very far, only able to reach the lobby before the first half of their group found you. They had appeared in an instant, surrounding you on all sides, and preventing you from escaping. Your pleas to let you go fall on deaf ears.
As soon as you see the other four appear out of thin air, your panic rises. Any and all chance of escape that you had had just now becomes slim to none.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Hongjoong pouts. “And after all that we’ve done for you, too.”
“Just let me leave, and we can pretend that none of this ever happened.” Comes your reply, noting the way a small blotch of red stains the front of his shirt where the knife had pierced him.
“I don’t think you fully comprehend your situation right now,” Hongjoong shakes his head, tutting all the while. “I already told you. You’re ours, and we’re not going to let you go so easily.”
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” you explain, voice coming out much firmer than you thought it would. “I’m going to grab my bag from my room, and then I’m checking out of this godforsaken hotel. I’m going to get into my car, drive home, and none of you will ever see me again.”
“Sure, you can check out of here any time you’d like. This isn’t even a real place,” Hongjoong chuckles as he watches your expression fall, horror at the realization of what his words mean painting your features. “We tried to be reasonable, to give you a choice. Now, you’ll just have to accept the terms you’ve signed yourself up for. You’re ours, and you’re in our domain now, Love. You can never leave.”
2K notes · View notes
praisethegabs · 7 months
Text
HEALING
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Re2r!Leon Kennedy x Scientist!Reader
synopsis: leon is in the process of healing, and this is something that requires patience, attention, kindness, and empathy. after everything he went through in the lab, now he is slowly adjusting to the world again, and he needs you more than never. you know he'll live with the scars for the rest of his life, but all that matters is his safety and the new memories he'll make.
warnings: small angst (bc why not?) at first, but ends with fluff. mentions of ptsd, nightmares, traumas, and a lot of care. reader is very supportive and patient with him. the parts in italic are from flashbacks.THIS CONTAINS HEAVY DESCRIPTIONS OF ABUSE! Do NOT read it if triggers you!
word count: 4845k
a/n: this is the second part for Freak, so you guys need to read it first! I wrote it at my job and I was really scared that someone would catch me. Anyways, enjoy it 🩵
TAG: @navstuffs
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"things will dissolve and be released and settled into spaces, and you will find your place in this vast and brilliant world." Seeker
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He still had nightmares.
And they keep him awake most of the night. He would wake up screaming, his body drenched in sweat, his breath labored, and his limbs trembling as if an electric current surged through his veins. Feeling scared, he seeks comfort, something small to reassure him that he isn't in the cold, white lab anymore.
Sometimes, his nightmares were so deep and dark that it was difficult to bring him back to the waking world.
But you knew since that day that he would go through with this. Although he was no longer in the lab, Leon still suffered from the aftermath of the events. He was haunted by the trauma and horrors he had experienced for many years.
The first weeks at your country house demanded a lot of energy from you. Leon was so exhausted and weak that it seemed like he wouldn't make it. You had to bathe him, change the bandages on his wounds, and essentially encourage him to eat. Eventually, he regained his body weight, and it wasn't necessary to keep the IV on him anymore. This was a significant progress.
But still, neither you nor he would talk about the lab.
It was a forbidden subject, mostly because you knew Leon had PTSD. Considering his well-being, you decided not to discuss what had happened. The stressful experiments, abuse, and everything else left him scared, traumatized, and with deep trust issues, causing him to have no trust in you whatsoever. But with patience and care, he was slowly starting to see you as his friend, not as a threat.
After two months at your country house, Leon was still recovering. Now, he was able to walk around the house without the IV pole next to him, and he didn't feel weak. You had a special diet made for him to help him regain his weight, and it was effective. Secretly, he loved your cooking, but he would never say that - at least not aloud.
Besides following a special diet, he had a rigorous workout routine. He enjoyed exercising outdoors, admiring the lush, green landscape, and basking in the warmth of the sun. After spending so many years trapped inside a padded room, he was always amazed by the beauty of nature. It didn't matter how many days he had already spent sitting in the grass, simply watching the sunset. He felt at peace.
And all of that, thanks to you.
"Please, I... I don't want it," Leon begged, his eyes tearing up as he saw you approaching with a syringe.
"Leon, I promise I won't hurt you," you sighed, as you attempted to administer the medicine. "It's just medicine."
"But it's going to hurt!" Leon shouted, backing against the wall, his body already trembling.
"I wish I could take pills, but this particular medication cannot be given in pill form, Lee," you said as you sat on his bed, attempting to convince him. "And I promise, you won't need to take the medication again. This is the last one."
Leon glanced at you, tears already streaming down his cheeks. It was extremely challenging to administer the medications he required, mainly because they all had to be injected into his body using a syringe, and, understandably, he had a strong aversion to needles.
"The last one?" He asked, searching for any sign of reassurance on your face. Noticing that, you simply nodded your head.
"Yes, the last one. After that, you will be taking pills or liquid. I didn't have time to buy any other medication," you explained to him calmly, hoping he would understand. "If you want to improve, you need to take your medication, okay?"
"But..."" His voice cracked for a moment, and then he looked down, avoiding eye contact. Tears were still falling down his face.
"I know, I know..." you gently approached him, sitting beside him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, gently embracing him. "You're doing well, do you know that? I'm proud of you."
"Am I?" He glances at you, searching once again for reassurance, to which you nod.
"So, will you be brave and let me administer the medicine?" You smiled, finally persuading him to trust you to do your job.
Leon nodded, and you helped him sit back on his bed. He extended his arm, allowing you to inject the needle into his vein. You prepared everything, gently cleaning his arm with a damp cotton pad and antiseptic solution. Right before administering the medication, you glanced at him.
"Alright, close your eyes for me," you instruct him, and he obediently complies by tightly shutting his eyes. "Good boy."
Leon smirks slightly and then groans softly as he feels the needle piercing his skin. A single tear fell from his eye when you finally administered the medication. When you finished, you covered the small bleeding wound with a cute band-aid.
"See?" It's done," you stroke his hair as a way to comfort him after he successfully tackled something that made him feel uneasy. "You did really well."
"I'm sorry," he muttered, sounding sad. Then, when his eyes met yours, he was on the verge of tears once more.
"You don't need to be sorry, sweetheart. I just want you to know that I am not mad at you for being scared, okay? You went through a lot, and now you're healing," you reassured him, gently holding his hands and intertwining them with yours.
Now that he was doing better, you were starting to worry about Umbrella finding you again. Before you left, you made the decision to find a secluded country house, far enough from the city that nobody would disturb you. It was almost like reaching another level. You took numerous safety precautions to ensure that they would not find Leon again.
You never told him about this. You didn't want him to be scared, especially now that he's finally recovering. Not only that, but you knew that someday you would have to tell him. However, this wasn't the best moment to do so. Thinking about the possibility, you had already formulated a Plan B and made all the necessary preparations to start again if needed. As long as you keep him safe, everything will be just fine.
Now, he is enjoying the peaceful life he deserves. No more tests, experiments, or abuse. Just calm and peace of mind.
"Leon!" You shouted his name from the kitchen and waved at him. "Dinner's ready!"
"Alright, I'm coming," you saw him nod his head, then redirect his attention to the sunset again. You smiled softly, knowing that he wouldn't see it.
He was a good boy, still learning about the world. He still had some submissive traits, but he was learning that he had the power to refuse and express his feelings and thoughts. Teaching Leon that he was allowed to say "no" was the next step in this journey, although you were having some trouble doing so.
"This smells good," Leon said as he walked into the house through the kitchen door. "What is it?"
"Can you guess?" You smiled at him, positioning yourself in front of the oven to block his view of what you were baking.
"It smells like... lasagna," he blushed deeply. On Fridays, you usually pamper him by giving him a break from his diet.
"Yep." "That's right," you nodded, smiling. Without hesitation, Leon set the table, preparing for dinner. "Thanks, sweetheart."
You both sat at the ornate wooden table for dinner. While you gave him a slice, you could see his eyes shining. Back at the lab, the food Leon had barely eaten smelled and tasted awful. That's why he was so skinny and weak, but now he can eat whatever he wants. Lasagna was one of his favorite dishes.
"I had a dream last night," Leon said after a moment. He glanced at you, expecting your attention.
"Really? About what?” you asked curiously, smiling at him again.
"I don't remember exactly, but... I think it was me before the lab," he said, and the last word sounded cold. "I was happy."
"Aren't you happy now?" You asked again, taking a bite of your lasagna before redirecting your gaze towards him.
His face turned pale, and he started to stutter again in response to your sudden question.
"Relax, I'm just teasing you," you laughed, trying to lighten his mood. He sighed, feeling relieved. "This is a good thing, I suppose." "You're improving, and soon you'll be able to leave if you want."
"Leave?" He raised his eyebrows, displaying visible confusion.
"Yes. You can now make your own choices, Leon. This means you can decide whether to stay or go," you smiled softly, then held his hand again.
"But... I don't want to go. I want to stay here... with you," he almost whispered the last part, but you managed to hear it nonetheless. "You're the only person I know, and the only one who cares about me. I feel safe with you, and for the first time in my entire life, I am happy."
His words were full of honesty. The way he looked at you and the sincerity behind every word he spoke. You nodded once more, then embraced him tenderly. At this point, you had nothing else to say. Instead, you felt butterflies in your stomach and a warm sensation in your chest. You wouldn't force Leon to stay with you against his own will, but now, if he wanted to do so, you wouldn't refuse.
"Are you sure about that?" You asked him after you broke the embrace, gazing into his baby blue eyes.
"Yes, I do," he nodded, whispering. He closed his eyes for a moment, gently touching his forehead to yours in a tender manner.
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You're reading a book, one of your favorites. You don't remember exactly when this started happening, but now it serves as a form of therapy for both of you. He lies between your thighs, you stroke his hair, and everything is at peace.
Leon was peacefully lying in your lap, his body comfortably nestled between your thighs, and his head resting on your stomach as you gently stroked his blonde hair. You can't tell if he's awake or asleep, but you know he's calm because of his gentle breathing. His thumb traces circles on your leg, and for a long moment, there is only the sound of rain and the warmth emanating from the fireplace.
“NO! NO, PLEASE!” Leon woke up screaming in the middle of the night. "Shit, holy shit."
"Leon, what's going on?" You opened his door to find him shirtless and gasping for breath. Sweat fell down his face, and his frightened blue eyes sought solace.
"I... I had an n-nightmare,” he said, his voice cracking and his entire body shaking with fear.
He started to cry, sobbing loudly. Leon tried to hide his face in the blankets, but you gently uncovered his face, embracing him tightly. You sighed, but you didn't say a word about it. With a gentle touch, you began to stroke his hair, softly whispering a lullaby in his ear to soothe him.
"I was there again. They were hurting me," Leon hissed, his voice still cracking with tears and sobs. "I can't sleep."
He looks at you, and seeing him in such a broken and vulnerable state makes your heart ache. He feels guilty. He thinks he's a burden, and you shouldn't waste your time with him. None of this is true, of course, and you still need to remind him of that.
“I-I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you up," he sobs quietly, closing his eyes and examining his own hands. The intravenous line on his right hand is covered with transparent bandages, which are connected to the pole next to his side. This serves as a constant reminder of how frail his body is.
"It's okay, don't worry about it. Come here, come lie with me." You gently hold his hand, leading him to your room.
Leon nodded, and with his slow pace, he followed you while holding his IV pole for support. It has only been two weeks since you brought him to your country house, and he still struggles with nightmares. He walks very slowly, and fatigue quickly overcomes him. You open the door and walk beside him until you reach your king-size bed, seating him on the mattress and adjusting the bedside table next to his side.
"I wish I could chase away the monsters... I wish I could protect you even as you sleep, but I can't," you whispered, kneeling on the floor, still holding his hand, and witnessing the pain he is in. "But I'm here, and nothing bad will ever happen to you again."
"I'm sorry," he sobs quietly, avoiding your gaze.
"Remember what I told you? There's nothing to be sorry for," you smiled gently, pushing the blankets away so he could lay down. "This isn't your fault."
"Back at the lab, they always made me think everything was my fault. They used to say that I deserved to be punished, that I deserved to be hurt and treated like some kind of animal," Leon said vaguely, his face still down as he avoided your gaze. "You know, one of the rules was that we shouldn't talk unless spoken to, and we could only say 'yes, sir' or 'yes, ma'am'. But even when we were allowed to talk, they would beat us and say that we deserved it."
Leon never spoke about the lab, and you never insisted on discussing the subject. You knew that one day he would open up to you, but you never thought it would happen after a nightmare. So, you decided to show your support by letting him vent, holding his hand, and ensuring he knew he was safe.
"During my first month, I was beaten up almost every day, at least ten times. They would often beat me simply because I was an innocent child who would cry out for my mother and plead for help. I was naive, but after a while, I learned the hard way that I wouldn't be rescued and my parents were not coming for me," Leon says, and you can see that he's crying again. He bites his lower lip, breathes in and out, and shakes once more. "There was a doctor. He pretended to be my friend, but... he touched me. I cried. I felt dirty and scared. He was supposed to take care of me, not hurt me the way he did… he said I could trust him, but when I did, he turned into a monster. He touched me for months, and nobody took any action. One day, when he tried to touch me, I fought back. This caused me to spend a month or two inside a cold, concrete cell, but it was worth it. I never saw him again"
You were shocked by his story. His file didn't contain this information, and you began to ponder what other things they were hiding. You felt disgusted.
"After I attacked the doctor, the situation deteriorated. They locked me inside a concrete cell. It was so cramped that I had very little space to move around. To make matters worse, the cell had an open top, which meant that whenever it rained, I would get drenched and remain wet for hours until the rain finally stopped. When the rain stopped, they would enter the cell and take me out, usually beating me and locking me up again," Leon let out a loud sob and a deep hiccup. His nose and eyes were red at this point. "But I didn't care. At least, I could feel the cold rain and the warmth of the sun, and I could breathe fresh air. He never touched me again. I don't know what happened, but ever since that day, I learned the hard way that I couldn't trust anyone."
He glances at you. His baby blue eyes shone with tears and sadness, his soul shattered into a thousand pieces, desperately seeking healing. Trying to find peace.
“I know none of this is my fault, but no matter how hard I try to convince myself, when I look in the mirror, I remember what he did to me and… and…” he doesn't finish his sentence. Leon started to cry again, and you immediately leaned in and rested his head on your shoulder.
The way he cried made his body ache, and you could feel him jerking as he sobbed loudly, to the point where he shut down completely. His mind is in chaos, he is drowning in darkness, and everything is a mess. He cannot talk, and he cannot breathe. You had never seen him like that before, and it scared you.
"It's okay, everything will be alright, I promise," you whispered, gently kissing the top of his head to soothe him.
It took at least an hour for Leon to completely calm himself down. You managed to lay him on your bed, using the blanket to cover him and keep his body warm. Gently, you moved his hair away from his face and hugged him tightly. Leon was so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face. You gently traced your fingers down his back, mindful of his limits, until he fell asleep.
It was the first time he had slept the entire night.
"What are you reading?" he asks in a husky voice after a moment of silence.
"Hamlet," you replied softly, your fingers entwined in his hair as you gently stroked it.
"Can you read it for me?" he asks softly, lifting his head so he can see you with his big, puppy-like blue eyes. "I like hearing you."
As the rain tapped lightly against the windowpane, you sat comfortably on the sofa with Leon's head cradled in your lap. The room was filled with the comforting scent of old books and bathed in a soft, warm glow emitted by the lamp on the side table. You turned the pages of the weathered book, your fingers tracing the well-worn lines of Shakespeare's Hamlet.
Leon's eyes were closed, his breathing steady and rhythmic, and a faint smile played on his lips as he listened to your voice. Your words flowed like a gentle stream, carrying the weight of a timeless tale. You read with a soft, melodic cadence, your voice rising and falling, like the raindrops outside the window.
"To be or not to be, that is the question," you began, your voice filled with contemplation. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them."
The rain outside seemed to synchronize with the soliloquy, its gentle patter against the glass creating a soothing backdrop for Shakespeare's words. You continued, your fingers running through Leon's hair, reciting, "To die: to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."
Your voice wove a tapestry of emotions, your words caressing Leon's soul as the story of Hamlet unfolded. He felt so at peace, as if nothing in this world could ruin this moment. He loved the way you read to him. He loves being touched by you.
For someone who was treated like an animal for most of his life, being treated as a human being with feelings and emotions certainly caused him to break. Leon never thought he could escape his nightmare. He never imagined that his life would turn out like this. Two months ago, Leon gave up all hope he had. He made peace with himself, accepting that he would die in the lab.
But you saved him.
You saved him in every possible way. You came when everything seemed to be lost, when all he knew was darkness and pain. You were the light he needed, the touch of the sun, the warmth of an embrace, and the happiness he desperately craved. You were the missing piece he had been searching for all those years. But until this very moment, he had to walk a long road.
The moonlight bathed the countryside in an ethereal glow, and Leon had spent a week recuperating in the country house, gradually healing his body and spirit. After his first week at home, you observed him gradually regain strength, patiently anticipating the opportune moment to provide him with a symbolic liberation from his past. Finally, put an end to this chapter once and for all. On this particular night, after serving him dinner, you approached his bedside with a gentle expression, filled with kindness and determination.
"Leon, I have something for you," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. "I think it's time for us to finally leave the lab behind and move on."
Leon, still weak and pale, looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. He was beginning to trust you implicitly, but the memories of the lab still clung to him like shadows.
"What do you mean?" Leon asks, his voice still weak and husky, as if he's struggling to stay awake.
"Come with me," you smiled soothingly at him, stroking his hair.
With great care, you helped him to his feet, wrapping a warm shawl around his shoulders, while he used the pole to support his weight. You both walked slowly, your steps synchronized with his weakened state, into the embrace of the moonlit night. Leon's steps were still uncertain, and his body felt fragile after a week of rest and recovery. The path you two followed led to a field — an expanse of wildflowers in full bloom. This field was alive with the beauty of wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. It was a symbol of nature's resilience and the potential for fresh starts. The fragrant air surrounded both of you, providing a refreshing contrast to the sterile environment of the lab.
You led him to a makeshift altar beneath a towering oak tree, with candles flickering and dancing in the breeze. On the altar, you placed a small bundle of clothes — the very same garments he had worn as a test subject in the lab.
"Leon Scott Kennedy," you said softly, "Today marks one week since we left the lab, and it has been a week since you embarked on your new life. I want you to leave the past behind and find closure. I want you to find peace and happiness, but for that, we need to do something first. These clothes represent the darkest chapter of your life. It's time to say goodbye to them."
As you handed him the old lab coat, the attire itself served as a constant reminder of his torment. The fabric was worn and tattered, bearing the marks of his suffering. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers trembling. The memories, the pain, the suffering — all were contained in that fabric. The old uniform was worn and tattered, bearing the marks of his suffering. But now, it was time to let go. With a deep breath, he placed the clothes on the fire that you had kindled.
The flames engulfed the garments, and the flickering light cast dancing shadows on Leon's tear-streaked face. The clothes started to burn, gradually disintegrating into ashes and embers. As he watched the fire consume his past, tears started to blur his vision. As the fire engulfed them with a voracious intensity, consuming them bit by bit, you witnessed Leon's tears cascading down his face.
He cried for the pain he had endured, for the years stolen from him, and for the loss of innocence. But with each tear that fell, a weight lifted from his shoulders.
You held him close, with your arm around his shoulders, and whispered, "It's okay to cry, Leon. You're finally free."
He sank to his knees in the field filled with wildflowers, his heart burdened by the weight of his past but also uplifted by the promise of a fresh start. As the last of the lab clothes turned to ashes, Leon realized that he had emerged from the darkness. He was no longer a guinea pig, but a man, free to write the story of his own life.
He cried so much that night. He finally found peace.
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Leon stood on the porch of the charming country house, holding a cup of steaming tea. The world around him was a picturesque canvas of green hills and blooming wildflowers. Birds sang a melodious chorus, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees. The air was filled with a sense of peace he had never experienced before.
The next morning, you woke up and found his bed empty. This had become quite normal by now. Leon always wakes up before you and prepares breakfast. So, after getting out of bed and taking care of your morning routine, you went downstairs. The kitchen door was open, and a chilly breeze blew in. Despite the sun shining in the sky, it was still cold. You spotted him and smiled, grabbing your coffee mug.
As Leon sipped his tea, his thoughts wandered back to the years he had spent as a captive in that sterile lab. The painful experiments, the isolation, and the uncertainty, each memory weighed heavily on his soul. He had endured the unimaginable, and yet, here he was - finally free.
The contrast between his past and the serene present was staggering. He had been reduced to a mere subject of scientific curiosity, dehumanized and robbed of his dignity. But now, in the tranquil countryside, he was rediscovering the true essence of life.
He had his eyes fixed on a solitary red rose that swayed gently in the breeze. As he gazed at the rose, he couldn't help but wonder about the life he had missed during his captivity. His mind was filled with a whirlwind of questions. What had he missed while he was trapped? How has the world outside changed? What had become of his family and friends, if they still existed at all? Leon's thoughts were a labyrinth of uncertainty, a journey through the mysteries of his past.
A butterfly landed on a nearby flower, and he watched it with fascination. It was a symbol of freedom and transformation, a reminder that he too had the chance to start anew. With each passing day, he rediscovered the simple joys of life — the taste of fresh strawberries, the sound of laughter after a joke, and the sensation of grass under his fingers.
As the rose swayed in the breeze, he silently made a silent promise to himself: to cherish every moment of freedom, to embrace the beauty of the world, and to make the most of the life that had been stolen from him for far too long.
"I know you're watching me," Leon says, not turning back to face you, and taking another sip of his tea. Chamomile is his favorite.
"Penny for your thoughts?" you said, getting closer to him and standing by his side.
"I never thought I would see the world again. I kept imagining things in my mind as a way to escape that hell and forget the pain. But now that I'm here, I have a new chance, and I don't intend to waste the rest of it." Leon looks at you tenderly, his hand reaching out for yours. "I thought I was going to die in there, but you saved me. You gave me my life back, you helped me heal, and I'm here today because of you."
The smile on your lips was almost involuntary.
"I know it was hard for you, but thank you for not giving up on me," he says, his baby blue eyes locked onto yours.
"I would never give up on you, Leon," you almost whisper, your voice filled with a sudden happiness you never knew existed.
He smiled, then kissed your forehead. As the sun rose, the two of you sat side by side, observing the sky and the sunlight caress the lush field. After all this time, he allowed himself to feel again, and at first, it felt strange. It felt uncomfortable. He was scared that he would be hurt until you proved to him that you were not like the others. The way you made him feel, the way you showed him that life could be simple, and that it was okay to feel and be afraid sometimes, changed him. He was insecure, traumatized, and scared. You helped him see the other side of life. You found him when he was lost. Now, he had something to believe.
He was free, and he had you by his side. And no one would ever take his freedom away again. 
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