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thatdeadaquarius · 10 months

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About your language brainrot. I see your "Reader's writing can't match tyvat's long and flowery writing" and bring you "Tyvat isn't used to books over 50 pages long so a short story to the Reader is a whole dictionary to tyvat readers".

Seriously, have you seen how thin the books are? They don't wrote novels, they write short chapters formatted in the way really old stories are. As in, summarizing all the events down into one smooth story then adding a few quotes. Fanfiction writers are insane. They will willingly sit down and write hundreds of words at a time. To them, a proper modern day story of maybe, oh 10k words or so, would probably be like the Oddessy itself.

If we were to combine the two headcanons. It would end up as many historians being intimidated by this insanely long written scripture in the language of the forgotten.

I'm going to take this a step further and say that if the creator asked some people to proofread their things, it would establish a hiarchy of who is able to actually finish the book the creator read and who isn't.

NOW THIS, THIS IS MY FUCKING JAMMMM

I'm so sorry this is so old!! u probably all know this by this point that I've really slowed down as the year has gone on, but I graduated university and then got my first job so its been pretty crazy!

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: dash of all the book/nerds of Genshin, heavy on Sumeru?

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing, 16+ Mature Audiences, Spoliers for Sumeru Archon Quests/Scaramouche, & Trigger Warnings: mention of shipping/characters shipping themselves with you.

Comment if any missed, please.

☆

FULL STOP.

THE AKADEMIYA, FONTAINE RESEARCH INSTITUTE, HAVE BEEN WAITTTINNGGGG ON YOUR ASS LMAO

You fall from the fucking sky like a 5 star, or pop out of the Irminsul or whatever

and immediately are mobbed by scholars. LMAO jkjk (not really, bc that's what it’d feel like)

can you even imagine the dread older stories(”the classics” to them), that was instilled in the poor students around Teyvat??

id like to think ur works are the most preserved over the thousands of years of Teyvat archeologists excavating them, in comparison to other authors (teyvat just likes you more, suck it William Shakespeare)

also, bc I cant resist language differences/world building I'm sorryyyy 😭 😭

the vocab of Genshin lang vs. ours, has significantly less vocabulary like their actual dictionary is 1/3 the size of ours type of energy

(Omfg all ur fanfics being considered like insanely long realistic romantic classics or tragedies like Jane Austen-level, and only the richest and biggest play companies put on plays about ur stories bc the script goes on for hours)

(ur plays only get put on for rlly big events bc of this, like Lantern Rite or like a Summer/Winter festival/your birthday, which is, yes, an international holiday)

dude the sheer power move of anything you’ve written being essentially “Journey of the West” to them, like Damnnn.

endless like adaptations, plays, Teyvat-short stories condensing it, (THEIR OWN FANFICTION ABOUT UR STORIES)

the power is, in fact, going to your head every time another scholar both deflates at how long ur stuff is, but also lights up bc they get to read it

speaking of scholars… you know who snatched you up first. you know. you don’t even need to read the next line.

Alhaitham.

sneaky bastard he is, absolutely manipulated, mansplained (and manwhored bc he knows he’s handsome, cheeky little shit) his way into getting you to sit down with him and interview you about both translating other classics, your own, giving your own analysis of others works and ur own, and picking ur brain apart of how/why you wrote urs, etc. its fucking endless,

Kaveh had to come rescue you bc u were starving to death after getting stuck with the Haravatat scholar in his office for nearly 7 hours of interrogation discussion about literature

and Alhaitham wasn't even nearly done, he’d informed you as you left that he already had another appointment for later conversation scheduled (how?? you don't even know ur own schedule??? you have a schedule???) and was looking forward to more of your “creative and enlightening input” :)))

(you’re never going to escape him, not even Nahida herself can save you from his stubborn ass)

On another note, Xingqiu is quaking when you agree to autograph his copy of your stories (of which he has all hard covers of the first edition translations)

Zhongli/Rex Lapis is known for having a near-lifelong passion for searching for your works specifically, and learning how to translate them better into Teyvatian vernacular

like the same way he can absolutely speak on Rex Lapis facts/rocks/adepti info, is the same confidence he speaks about knowing ur work lol

(yes he did also ask for several autographs and another sit-down talk about the works, tho a lot more sneaky then Alhaitham bc he just casually gets u guys into it during dinner)

Barbatos/Venti has written some of the most famous songs based on your stuff, he has his favorites too,

but he always claims the best songs are any that have been written in the story, like either when a character sings something, or there are like quotes from songs ur fanfics are based on lol

(he also demanded to hear what they actually sound like from you, yes, you have to sing them for him lol)

Venti also can surprisingly drunkenly ramble the entirety of at least one of ur stories, like, word for word lmao

(Diluc gave in and did give him a drink on the house for that one, just once, Venti doesn’t remember it lol)

(I forgot to mention, u guys still speak the same language, just like, different versions of it)

ur works being one of the few things all the Archons can freely talk about with each other, like it’s neutral ground bc they’re all fangirling about it lmao

Furina and Neuvillette have had like,, fierce debates over the decades about character dynamics and the general drama of ur stories, they’ve gotten into it enough they’ve stopped talking to each other for a couple days a few times lol

Albedo, Sucrose, Kokomi, Yae Miko, Ei, Raiden, have read every single work they’re gotten their hands on in Teyvat (it took them like a literal year or longer)

Albedo drew you fanart for every single story, bc he’s hyperfixated on everything related to you ngl,

Kokomi had commissioned smaller pocket versions of ur works (which later got popular thanks to Yae Miko) both the OG and the Teyvat shortened versions

THE HARBINGERS ARE THE MOST DOWN BAD LMAO

Childe has literally tried to recreate battle scenes from ur works lmao

and gets especially riled up about fighting someone who resembles any characters from them (esp villains, what a cutie)

You cannot fathom the amount of research throughout Teyvat that has been secretly or indirectly funded by Pantalone/Tsaritsa

from the experts to analyze them, to funding play companies to act them out, to actually excavating places to get more of ur stuff unearthed

(the Harbingers absolutely are the first group of people that got to read several of ur stories first bc of this, like the world’s most exclusive secret book club lol)

Scaramouche used to clown on Childe all the time about how he was too impatient to even “sit down and read the King’s classics”, and he was downright insufferable when he found out about Tartaglia’s habit of recreating battle scenes/that being what motivated him to fight sometimes lol

that being said, Wanderer surprisingly never forgot ur stories.

Even when his memories were wiped for a bit, he found comfort in these fantastical epics still sticking around, even when his old names did not

(he mayyyy or mayyy nottt have secretly namedhimselfafteroneofthetragicprotagonistsherelatesto- )

oh btw, Nahida also found joy and comfort in ur stories when she was trapped, they also helped her literally grow as a person bc she had ur stories to help her sort of process the world/what life was like outside of her dreaming prison 🥺💔❤️‍🩹

◇

OMFG

ANYWAY FULL TONE SHIFT LMFAO-

the ABSOLUTE SPIRAL-RED-STRING-CONSPIRACY-THEORY-BOARD ENERGY IF THIS WAS A BLUNT LANGUAGE AU LMAOOOO

like specifically how Teyvatians like to give all the context ever thru their words, but older deities/beings like you just do simple phrases that can have deeper meanings (whereas teyvat just explains all the meanings behind their words)

STOP there’s like an official display at the Akademiya and Fontaine Institute of red string theory boards 😭😭 (look what you’ve done to themmm LMAO)

for like every story of urs, INCLUDING THE FANFICS STOP

IMAGINE THE SHIPPING WARS IF U EVER WROTE ONE THAT WASNT EXPLICIT OR LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTERESTS HAD CHEMISTRY WITH OTHER CHARACTERS HAHAHAHAA

that's actually what Akademiya scholars argue about the most viciously, it’s like politics you can’t just bring up ships from ur stories casually in regular convos 💀

(poor Cyno has to deal with a shipping war once a year bc someone always makes the mistake of reading ur work for the first time (without being told to not talk to others abt ships lol) and it starts an all out brawl in the cafeteria every time LMAO)

Also yes.

Cyno is a fanboy.

(he has read Creator x Reader-insert fanfiction.)

(As have most of the characters mentioned, and those not lol)

…

(I'm gonna make a whole Creator x reader fanfic post one day i stg lmao)

☆

an iced coffee? for me?? :0

ok but real talk…

wtf do you guys wanna see for new years!!

i didn't do a inktober/october days thingy bc i felt too unprepared (and bc id wanted to post that 1000+ followers eldritch au for Halloween)

but now i kinda wanna, at least for a few days :o

ill post a poll in a minute, so check it out!! but still, please feel free to comment some ideas here! :)

Safe Travels Deafening Dreamer,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily

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ladykailitha · 5 months

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Paper Hearts Part 1

Remember how my posting schedule was going to be based on strictly vibes from now on? Yeah this is why. I have three chapters of this completed and only two of most everything else because I hurt my right wrist on Wednesday evening (I think I overextended my elbow and it fucked up the tendons in my wrist, because I've done that before on my arm and it feels like that).

So instead of getting more work done on stuff that is literally paragraphs away from the end of the chapter I'm having to tap into my backlog. Which is what it's for. But it is annoying.

I am also aware it's nearly May, but my muse was never one for sense.

Summary: Hawkins High is selling paper hearts to help raise for senior prom. $3 for red romantic hearts and $1 for pink friendship hearts. Steve hasn't dated anyone since the horrific breakup with Nancy on Halloween and so he decides that he's going to send pink hearts to senior girls who wouldn't normally get any hearts at all. When Eddie hears about this he can't help be intrigued. It goes against his very well curated Munson Doctrine. But as events keep throwing them together, Eddie learns there is more to King Steve then meets the eye.

Also a note: the use of the other's last name when it's their point of view is deliberate. As they get to know each other more, the more first names get used.

****

Steve was staring at the huge sign with a sense of dread. In big pink and white letters on a red background screamed the words:

PAPER HEARTS FOR YOUR VALENTINE $1 FOR PINK FRIENDSHIP HEARTS $3 FOR RED ROMANTIC HEARTS ALL PROCEEDS GO TO CLASS OF 1985 SENIOR BALL

Valentine’s Day. That time of year for lovers and romantics. That used to be him. But not since Nancy broke his heart by breaking up with him for Jonathan Byers.

There would be no paper hearts in locker this year. Not even pink ones. Nancy had well and truly blown up his life and she got to walk away scott free.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. He pinched his nosed and rubbed the end. He wasn’t going to cry in the middle of the fucking main hall of Hawkins High.

Just before he was about to start moving again someone shoulder checked him, sending back to the floor and all his stuff sprawling around it like some fucked flower.

“Watch it, Harrington!” the voice growled as whoever it was sped off down the hall.

Steve didn’t even bother looking to see who it was. It could have been anyone these days. His former friends. Billy and his ilk. Hell, even the nerds and geeks got in on the action lately.

He knelt down to start cleaning it up when someone else kicked his books toward the lockers. He managed to get most of it picked up when he reached for the last notebook. Someone stepped on his hand and ground down, hurting Steve and ripping the cover off the notebook, crinkling the first couple of pages.

He shoved it into his bag and cradled his hand to his chest. He looked at his watch and sighed. Lunch was nearly over and he hadn’t even made it to the cafeteria yet.

There was nothing for it, he had to get to his next class. He walked into the class room just as the bell rang, but instead of heading for his usual spot near the front he made for the back of the class. There were always a few empty seats around Munson. The guy was terrifying on a good day.

And Steve hoped it was a good day.

****

Eddie made to class on time by the skin of his teeth. He slid through door just as the bell rang above his head. He was about to lope over to his usual spot in the back when he stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked up at the front at the deliberately left open seat and back at the seat next to his with a raised eyebrow. He wisely said nothing as he flopped into the torture device known as the chesk. Dair? Whatever the hell it was called where some unspeakable horror thought to combine a desk and a chair.

Eddie glanced sidelong at his new companion. The recently deposed king of Hawkins High sat slumped in his chesk, head down, just staring at its surface as if held the meaning to life the universe and everything.

Which if Harrington asked him, he would have been told forty-two.

He pulled out his notebook and noticed that Harrington did not do the same. Curiouser and curiouser. He pulled out a pencil and settled in to avoid falling to sleep today.

He was taking notes and doing the assignment like he was supposed to when about half way through class the teacher called out to him.

“Mr. Harrington!” she shrieked. “If you are going to be sitting in the back, please have the decency to pay attention in class!”

A couple of kids snickered.

“You were talking about how the Fool is used to lighten the absolutely horrific scene above him of Lady Macbeth as she tries to get blood out of her gown,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with his left hand.

That was when the teacher and Eddie noticed the same thing at the same time.

Harrington was cradling his right hand to his chest.

“Mr. Harrington is there something wrong with your right hand?”

“I accidentally hurt it during lunch,” he said with wince.

The teacher tapped her foot and crossed her arms. “And why didn’t you see the nurse?”

“It happened right before class,” Harrington muttered, “and I didn’t want to be late.”

The teacher huffed and shook her head. “I will give you note for your next teacher, but you will see the nurse after class, am I understood?”

He nodded.

“Mr. Munson,” she cried out, shrill. “If you’ll share your notes with Mr. Harrington after class so he does not fall behind.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He continued to keep an eye on Harrington throughout the whole class but whenever their English teacher tried to catch him out, she would fail every time.

When the bell rang Eddie started shoving his stuff into his backpack. “You sure you even need my notes, Harrington? That was pretty impressive shit you pulled out of your ass today.”

Harrington just shrugged. “Just because I was paying attention doesn’t mean it won’t bleed out of my ears with all the algebra and chemistry stuff I have later.”

Eddie winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I hear that. What’s your locker number and I’ll just slip a copy of my notes in the slots.”

“323B.”

“They got you on a lower locker?” he asked with a grimace. “That’s jacked up. Even Mr. Super Senior here got a top locker. Does the secretary hate you or some shit?”

Again Harrington shrugged. “I’ve got to go. I’ll catch you later.”

Eddie folded his arms at looked at him. “You’re not going to the nurse’s station, are you?”

This time it was Harrington who winced.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffed. “I’m walking you to said nurse’s station because it could be broken and if you don’t get that looked at, you’ll be in more than just a world of hurt, man. You could fuck up your hand for life and you wouldn’t be able to anything in that hand ever again.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as all color drained from his face.

“Shit.”

Eddie grabbed both of their backpacks and headed for the door. “Yeah, shit.”

Harrington hurried to catch up, hand still cradled to his chest.

“How did you know that could happen to my hand?” he asked softly.

Eddie eyed him sidelong, but the kid wasn’t being an ass. In fact he would say Harrington was being earnest.

“My uncle works at the machinist plant up the road,” Eddie explained. “One of his buddies broke his hand on the machine and refused to get it looked at. Guess how well that worked?”

“Was it the plant’s fault?” Harrington asked. Eddie cocked his head to the side. “That you uncle’s friend got hurt?”

Eddie reared his head back in shock that Harrington would even ask.

“No, man,” he said shaking his head. “He was goofing off, being a dick. Uncle Wayne always said that if you knock on every door asking for the devil, one day he’s gonna answer.”

“What happens when the devil comes looking for you?” Harrington muttered to himself and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what this kid had seen.

Because he knows haunted. And Harrington looks like he has an attic full of ghosts.

Once they got to the nurse’s station Eddie waited for him. When the other boy came out he asked how it went.

“She says it doesn’t feel broken,” he huffed. “But that if it doesn’t improve over the weekend after icing at least three times a day, to come back on Monday and she’ll order an x-ray.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. See you around, Harrington.”

He had barely turned around when Harrington called out to him. “Wait!”

Eddie turned back around to have a piece of paper shoved into his hand. “I got the nurse to excuse us both.”

And before he could even reply the other boy was tearing off down the hall as if the devil himself was chasing him.

And after that comment he’d heard, Eddie couldn’t be sure he wasn’t.

****

Steve was curled up on his bed, icing his hand, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering where the fuck his life had gone so wrong.

Okay so he could answer that one, actually. Demogorgon ate his girlfriend’s best friend while in his backyard. While him and said girlfriend were having sex for the first time.

Yeah... that was all kinds of fucked up.

He still couldn’t believe that Nancy sided with Jonathan about him taking pictures of their first time.

So now Valentine’s Day was two week away and he was dateless, friendless, and unpopular. He wished he could just be called a loner. But a loner was cool and Steve wasn’t even that anymore.

He just had to make until the end of may and then he could graduate, leaving this town in his rearview mirror for good.

Steve knew that he would have to struggle through this fucking holiday and Senior prom then it would be smooth sailing from there.

He had all this money that he would normally spend on his girlfriends, but now he didn’t even have that. He supposed he could blow it all on beer and weed and then he could enjoy the weekend for a change.

Steve sat up suddenly, the ice pack falling from his hand to hit the floor with sploosh!

Now that was an idea.

He still had one thing in the school that was nonpareil and that was gossip. In fact, it was easier to hear all the dirty little secrets because no one cared if he was standing there.

A smile spread over his face.

That could actually work. It would be a great way to spend his allowance and it would be fun.

He got up and put the ice pack back in the freezer. He couldn’t do anything about it right then but once his hand was better he would formulate his little plan.

Steve was suddenly excited for the first time since he dropped Dustin off at the middle school’s Snow Ball.

He was going to make this holiday fun even if he had to manufacture the fun himself.

****

Eddie was pissed. A little at himself, but mostly at how Harrington was being treated.

He had to sit through lunch and listen a bunch of stupid jocks brag about stomping on Harrington’s hand when he was trying to pick up his stuff off the floor in the hallway yesterday.

They had been hoping for an actual break, but the asshole thought he’d only bruised it.

The reason Eddie was a little mad at himself for this was because he was the one that had shoulder checked Harrington. He had only been trying to get the guy out of his daze. Not send his shit flying.

And then to have someone deliberately stepping on his hand. Fuck. Not even Hagan ever went that far.

Stev–Harrington didn’t deserve that kind of bullying. No one did.

But he could see the twisted sort of appeal, though. And fuck if that didn’t make his stomach turn.

To see the deposed king and want to mock that? Want to dig the hurt in as deep as he could? To drive home the lesson that popularity was fleeting and that existence was a curse?

Yeah, Eddie could see the appeal.

But he wouldn’t. He might make fun of literally everyone and everything but his own interests, but to make turn that into actual cruelty? That was were he drew the line in the sand.

He went home feeling sick to his stomach. And of course Wayne picked up on it immediately.

He jutted his chin at the chicken and rice on Eddie plate that he had only merely pushed around with his fork.

“What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”

Eddie put his fork down and hid his mouth with his clasped hands, elbows on the table.

“I fucked up today,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean for it to go as it did.”

“What did you do?”

So Eddie told him. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but he got hurt anyway.”

“That does sound pretty bad,” Wayne agreed. “And as you say, you were trying to help only for it to go very awry. And since you didn’t about it until after the fact you couldn’t apologize and that’s what’s eating you up inside.”

Eddie nodded around his fists, his lower lip quivering.

“You’ll just have to find a way to apologize on Monday,” Wayne said wisely.

Eddie sighed. It was the best he could do. It wasn’t as though he could call the guy up or show up at his house. The first because he didn’t have the guy’s number and the second because he’d get the cops called on him so fast by the neighbors.

It would just have to wait until Monday.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

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invisible-lint · 4 months

Text

Everything Could Be Okay: Chapter 2

Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader

Summary: Time for a wedding... Or is it?

Warnings: nothing I can think of!

Word Count: 1.4k

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 3

You had never been a fan of parties. They were too loud, the air too stuffy, and the gossiping of the Spring Ladies you were forced to be with was obnoxious. But you had endured, not wanting to leave Feyre to fend for herself. Or worse, alone with Ianthe who had gotten on your nerves with how pushy she had been while planning what was supposed to be Feyre’s wedding.

Feyre had made her escape nearly an hour ago, heading up to bed, and here you were, stuck, nodding along as you pretended to listen to the gossiping females surrounding you.

"From what I hear, Tamlin is looking to find a husband for you." That got your attention. The room is suddenly suffocating, air struggling to find its way to your lungs. Your hand reaches to your necklace, finding the ring on it. The group of females look worried as you back away, feeling as if the room is closing in on you.

"Excuse me," you manage to mumble, fleeing the room.

You run out to the gardens, not noticing Tamlin following you. You stop, sinking into a bench, trying not to hyperventilate. How could he do this? Just because he wanted to pretend nothing had happened doesn't mean that you would. He sits next to you and you stand, anger flooding your body when you see him, pushing out the panic.

"How dare you?" You hiss, blinking back the angry tears stinging your eyes.

He sighs. "What is it I've supposedly done now?"

"When were you going to tell me you were looking for a husband for me?"

"You're overreacting. Someone asked about marrying you, and I simply said I would think about it."

"No. You don't get to make that choice for me. I am not ready for that. I am not ready to replace him!" You start to pace, trying to keep your temper in check.

"It would be good for you to move on. You can't be unhappy forever."

You lose your temper then, whirling to face him, pointing a finger at his chest. "You don't understand! I felt it when he died! It was like my soul was cleaved in two! That is not something I can just move on from! Had Feyre's death been permanent you would not have moved on as quickly as you're asking me to!" He growls at you, claws sliding out. You flinch, knowing you said too much and turn to run further into the garden. This time, Tamlin doesn’t follow.

The next day is the wedding, and you sit with Feyre as several females prepare her. You watch silently, trying to gauge how she is feeling. You know about the nightmares, and have noticed the weight loss, but you don’t know what to do. What can you do? You’ve offered companionship, tried getting her to eat more of the foods you know she likes, but still, she is wasting away before your eyes. You can’t talk about Under the Mountain, no one talks about it. No one can.

You notice Feyre is looking more and more nervous, and you ask for the room to be cleared. Once it’s just the two of you in the room, you pull a chair over so you’re right next to her, taking her hands in yours.

“I was nervous before my wedding too. I couldn’t eat anything and then I almost fainted right before the ceremony.” You squeeze her hands gently. “But I knew it was what I wanted. Andras and I had courted for nearly 20 years before I agreed to marry him. I suppose what I’m trying to say is if you’ve changed your mind, if you need more time, I will come up with some sort of reason to postpone the wedding. Tamlin doesn’t need to know about any of it.”

Feyre sits for a moment, thinking before shaking her head. “I’m ready. I want this.”

You nod, squeezing her hands again. “Then I’ll be right there with you.”

You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised, Rhysand was prone to making dramatic entrances after all. Showing up right as Feyre was walking down the aisle seemed just like the kind of thing he would do.The part of you screaming its relief is hard to ignore, but you manage to shove it down.

You stride across the lawn, chin held high, interrupting the argument. "I will be joining Feyre as a chaperone." The violet eyed male quirks an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile. “Oh?”

"Yes. No part of your agreement said she had to spend her time in your court alone."

"I suppose not."

"So I'm joining her."

At that moment Tamlin finally finds his voice. "Absolutely not."

"You'd have her go alone?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at your brother.

He sputters, before making an exasperated noise, knowing you're right.

"Don't worry Tamlin, I'll treat her better than you treated my sister," Rhysand taunts. You shoot him an exasperated look, ignoring your brother's snarl. He crosses over to you and Feyre, wrapping an arm around each of you and winnowing away, whisking both of you off to the night court.

You wander the halls of the mountain palace, thinking back on the past few hours. It’d been hard not to laugh when Feyre had thrown her shoes at Rhysand, the look on his face had made it even harder. But more than anything, the interaction made you feel relieved. Somewhere in there, who Feyre truly was still resided. And he had managed to draw her out.

You walk out onto a balcony, glad that whatever magic seems to be heating the interior of the palace extends to out here. You gaze up at the stars, lost in thoughts about how you might help Feyre. When you eventually turn to go back inside, Rhysand is standing in the doorway, staring at you, the expression on his face unreadable. He walks over, leaning against the railing of the balcony next to you.

“This is the second time now I’ve found you roaming in the middle of the night. I’m starting to think you don’t sleep.”

“I don’t.” He raises an eyebrow in response.

“Not well at least. It’s… a long story.”

“One you won’t share with me?”

You cross your arms, shooting him a hard look. “I don’t know you.”

“Ah, yes. But I assume you intend to accompany Feyre everytime. One week a month for the rest of your life gives you plenty of time to know me.”

“I think I know enough.” You squeeze your arms, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat races at the idea of getting to know him.

“Do you make it a habit of assuming you know people based on what you’ve heard?”

“Do you make it a habit of being so obnoxious?” You huff, flinging your arms down to your side, temper stirring. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smile as he tries not to laugh.

“Are you always so easily irritated?”

You snap, letting everything you’ve been holding in flood out. “You would be too if you were me! I have lost so much and I’m supposed to just smile and pretend I’m okay. That I don’t dream about my dead husband every night. It has barely been a year since he died and someone asked Tamlin if they could marry me. A year! I was with him for almost 100 years and people have the audacity to think I should move on because I can’t be miserable forever! Not to mention that without him, without his sacrifice, Feyre wouldn’t have been able to save anyone! Oh, and speaking of Feyre, I don’t think she wants to marry my brother. But she refuses to admit it and there's nothing I can do and she’s going to end up as trapped and miserable in Spring as I am! And I have nobody to tell this to because the only person who I could ever truly share my feelings with is dead! So I’m so sorry if I’m a little bit irritable.” You finish your rant, chest heaving. Rhysand just stares at you, a little wide eyed, at a loss for words. Suddenly realizing how much you had shared, you turn and run, heading anywhere but there, but he remains rooted to the spot.

He had felt it. Felt all your anger, frustration and anguish down the blossoming bond. Mate. You’re his mate. He lets out a shaky breath, turning to grip the railing, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t tell you. How could he when you had just shouted at him about how you're still grieving your husband? So this, like so many he already carried, would be his sole burden to bear.

A/N: And there it is! I'm already working on chapter 3 and hope to have it posted sometime either this week or early next week. it's already a LONG one! As always, requests are open and feel free to send them on in!

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Taglist: @lilah-asteria @readingislife2006 @acourtofimagines @mistymoocow @irelanrose @darker-december @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @loving-and-dreaming

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhys acotar #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine

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c0ffinshit · 6 months

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Hello, You. (Dexter Morgan x Stalker!Reader) PROLOGUE

a/n: hello, you. (get it? hehe). ANYWAYS sorry i've been gone for a while. i've literally been depressed for like months but I'M OKAY NOW. i promise. so, in honor of my mental health being good now, i wrote this story about a reader who REALLY needs to see a doctor. word count: 1,466 warnings: dead dove: do not eat, mentions of attempted rape (and rape in general), assault, borderline psychopath reader, stalking, like one mention of abortion, joe goldberg core CHAPTER ONE

Hello, you. Dexter Morgan, you sick and beautiful freak of nature. I know what you’ve done. I’ll stay quiet for now since I’m such a good girlfriend. Well, about the girlfriend part. You don’t know yet. But you will soon, my love.

I would tell you how long I’ve been following you, but I fear it would make you more likely to run the other way. But the thing about that is I don’t want you gone yet. You don’t know yet that you desire me to. The same way I enjoy and crave you.

Ever since Rita died, your life has been fading colors, Dexter. You lack a desire, a need to kill, and feel that release. And I understand that better than anyone. Sure, the context may differ for us, but it always leads down the same path. You don’t have that drive, but I do. And more importantly, I want to give you that purpose you feel you lack. I’ve done everything to get your eyes to meet mine, but everything never works. It’s like I’m some piece of glass you can ignore. You want to look past me, Dexter, but I find that incredibly flustering when I’m standing there. I’ve quit jobs at places frequently and wore heavy makeup and ugly clothes, all for you. You can’t ignore me forever, Dexter.

Now I sit in a nearly empty store, just for you. It’s like I said, you can’t ignore me for long.

The store is bland and uninteresting, a place I would never expect you to be. Of course, this is where you’ll see me finally. You wouldn’t be able to unsee me. I’ve dyed my hair and changed my appearance. It’ll be hard to recognize me of the changes I’ve made. I know you’ll think: I’ve seen this girl before, but I can’t place where. But the truth is that you’ve noticed me in everything your eyes have touched. At supermarkets and malls, where I just watch you and your children enjoy a day out together. Then, your wife was murdered brutally by the Trinity Killer. Now, did I have connections to the Trinity Killer to cause her death? No, unfortunately. The death of your wife was still all him. But I quickly struck when I knew it was my time to shine. The children, not including Harrison, were finally gone. Now that I can manage. You, Harrison, and I could finally be the perfect family together.

But you had to make things complicated. First, it was Lila West. Now, I don’t like cheaters, Dexter. But here’s the thing about that. It's hard to compare all of your actions and say that cheating on your wife is the worst of them.

She was a serial arsonist. Lila didn’t understand anything about you, but she was good at taking care of your so-called addiction to heroin. You told her what she wanted to comprehend. Lila tried to save you when you were unsavable in her eyes. She wanted to save the unsavable.

Next thing you know, she’s off to France after almost killing you and Rita’s children in a house fire. She ran from you when you didn’t choose her over your wife. Pathetic, honestly. As much as I can say that I would do the same, I would be wrong. Dexter, I’ve known you for years now. We were coming up on our fourth year together. My fourth year in your life without you knowing of my existence.

Then that girl came into your life. What’s her name?

Oh, right, Lumen—the poor girl from Minnesota who sweetly begged for your help in the killing of her rapists. As much as she got in my way, I will admit, I did like her for you.

If I failed to exist, you would've destined to be with her. How funny fate works, though, since she left your sight in the blink of an eye. Was that my doing? For the most part, it was all her. Lucky me that I didn’t have to do anything before she told you that her dark passenger had left her and how she finally managed to heal from the torment. It's funny how someone so tortured by her past could move on so quickly, unlike you, who seems forever stuck in that cargo container.

My point is every girl in your life has left you in some capacity.

And the only male figure in your life failed you. I, however, understand that you don’t need saving or fixing. Killing is a part of you. Harry made that very clear to you. He tried to save you by shaping you into a hero. But as we both know, that didn’t last very long.

Now you’re here in Iron Lake, New York. Ten years clear from killings. I’m sitting outside the homely yet bland store, waiting for you to leave. Yes, I plan to follow you home. But I have a good reason. Tonight’s the night I tell you of the accident you saved me from, how you caught the man that could’ve killed me that very night. You rescued me by slaughtering him.

You probably don’t remember that night. I don’t blame you for that. It was just another kill for you. But allow me to enlighten you.

It was when you were still in Miami, November 1st, about nine at night.

I was leaving a bar after another sad night alone. A man follows me out of the bar. I can’t remember his name or his face. You would be better at recognizing his name and his face than me. All I do recall is someone grabbing me as I left, pulling me into an alley. His hand covered my screams, his other holding a hunting knife to my throat.

"Shut the fuck up, or this goes straight through your fucking neck." The man threatened, pressing the knife deeper into my neck.

I’d be powerless my whole life, always a second choice, but I never pled for what happened to me. But I don’t blame him for what he targeted me—a vulnerable young woman leaving a bar in early November. It’s a recipe for murder.

My voice tries to scream out more, my body thrashing against his. The man's grip moves away from my mouth, moving down my body. I feel tears swell in my eyes as his hand pulls up my skirt and pulls down my panties. I knew where this was going, and I was terrified. I couldn’t afford a police investigation or an abortion. I would have to carry the baby, that fucking rape baby.

Suddenly, the knife he was holding drops out of his hand. His threatening pleas of my silence turn hushed as I hear his body thud against the pavement. The loose rocks and debris scratch against his body as you drag him away. My eyes are shut tight, too scared to open them. But I knew it was you, the Bay Harbor Butcher. Things like this were happening all over the city. Stories of your heroism, saving all walks of life. You were a hero, never the villain. I just never thought it would happen to me.

The dragging briefly turns shushed as I feel your eyes on me. "Go. Run far." You say in a hushed tone.

My eyes shoot open, and it feels like my feet think for me. I do as you say. I ran, and I ran fast. My feet and lungs held my body as upright as they could. Finally, I reached a gas station near my apartment before I became tired. I ran five miles the night, just on adrenaline alone.

That’s how you saved my life that night, Dexter. Three words. You had given me a purpose and something to fight for.

It wasn’t hard to find you after that. I searched in forums across the internet, talking of this Bay Harbor Butcher persona of yours. Of course, I never encountered you on any of those, which I should’ve figured. So, my search efforts had become ten times harder. So, I did what any logical person would do and found patterns within your murders, all criminals who either went under the radar or were recently released. You try to save the people, like some sick and twisted Batman. When, if anything, you follow closer to Bateman than the caped crusader. I did what a cop or detective couldn’t have done in a year. After all that time and effort, I found your name and shady Iron Lake cabin: Dexter Morgan, a man in the countryside with a girlfriend who's a cop. Shame for her since she won’t live to hear my declaration. But even if she does, she won’t like what she hears.

#dexter morgan #dexter showtime #michael c hall #dexter morgan x reader #send help #i want him #dead dove do not eat

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ginnsbaker · 1 year

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Bulletproof (7/10)

Part Summary: “You sacrificed yourself for me,” she ends in a whisper. “I did what?” Knowing you don’t have any family, anyone you’re supposed to care about, the revelation stuns you. Who is Wanda to you?

Chapter word count: 3.1k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Still UST, Still gay, Still sharing a bed, Memory loss

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Next Part | Series Masterlist

You slide the change across the counter, offering a warm smile to the satisfied customer. “Have a nice day!” you call out with practiced cheerfulness.

You let out a sigh; only six more days until it’s Thursday again.

Without looking up, you mechanically go through the motions of preparing the register for the next customer in line.

“I’ll have the vanilla latte, please.”

The voice unmistakably belongs to the one you've been waiting to hear all week. Wanda stands on the other side of the counter, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, looking every bit as nervous as you feel the moment your eyes land on her. Your heart rate quickens, an involuntary response to the sudden nearness of her.

Subconsciously, you open your mouth to greet her, the words, "Hi, Wanda," at the tip of your tongue. But you snap your mouth shut at the last moment, realizing the slip that almost occurred. You know her name, yes, but not because she's told you. Louisa had been the one to fill in that blank.

“Your... vanilla latte will be right up,” you manage to say, mentally kicking yourself for sounding so out of sorts. The news that she was searching for you last night still lingers in your mind. And though every part of you yearns to question Wanda about it, you're uncertain how to broach the topic with someone who's essentially a stranger.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Wanda says, her tongue fleetingly grazing her lip. The sound of her saying your name only intensifies the blush warming your cheeks.

Your hand, as it's done this countless times before, reaches for a cup. Without thinking, without asking, you write ‘Wanda’ on it, surprising even yourself. You pour the milk, steam rising as the frother does its job. A few times, you sneak glances at her, and each time, you find her already looking your way, her gaze unwavering.

Finishing the final touches on her drink, you set it down at the pickup station where Wanda is waiting for it. She steps forward, her fingers brushing yours as she takes the cup. “Thank you, Y/N,” she responds, deliberately emphasizing your name.

As you move on to the next order, you catch Wanda out of the corner of your eye, making her way to her usual spot by the window. It's a table tucked away in a cozy nook that offers a clear view of the counter. You can't help but smile, feeling a warmth of contentment knowing she's there, within reach whenever you want to see her.

Lost in her thoughts, Wanda takes a sip of her latte. It's only when she sets the cup down does she notice the name written on it.

In your handwriting.

How did you know her name? She never let on because she'd signed a legal document that forbade her from telling you anything, unless... unless you remembered something?

She feels her heart rate pick up, and without thinking, she stands up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over. Taking quick strides, she's in front of the counter faster than she realizes.

“Y/N,” she starts, her voice catching a bit. You feel a blend of confusion and terror all at once.

“Why...Why did you write my name on the cup? Do you re—”

“I’m sorry, it’s my fault,” Louisa interjects before you can dissolve into a heap of embarrassment on the floor.

Wanda pointedly turns to Louisa, arms crossed in front of her.

Louisa toys with the edge of her apron, her cheeks slightly pink. “Well, it's not like I straight-up told them, but Y/N might've heard your name from me... accidentally.” She gives a small, awkward shrug, trying to dodge Wanda's piercing look.

“Anyway, I've got orders to fulfill,” she adds quickly. Then with a hurried nod, she heads back to her station, leaving you face-to-face with Wanda.

You gulp, struggling to speak up. Your hands feel clammy, and you kind of wish the counter was tall enough to duck behind.

“Why would your colleague tell you my name?” Wanda asks, her tone more curious than accusatory.

Your eyes dart around, looking for an escape, but it's clear Wanda expects an answer. “Um... I might've asked about it,” you admit, trying to sound casual, but failing miserably.

“You wanted to know my name?” Wanda's voice reaches your ears while you keep your focus on the countertop.

You take a deep breath, mustering up some courage. “I hope this doesn't come off too weird, but ever since you first walked in, I've been curious about your name,” you admit, your gaze dropping even further to your shoes. “Okay, that sounded kind of creepy. Sorry about that.”

Wanda blinks in surprise, processing your words. “Oh,” is all she manages to say. Then, without another word, she returns to her seat by the window, leaving you flustered and second-guessing every word you'd just uttered. From behind the counter, you watch her, heart sinking. You watch as she sips her latte, lost in her thoughts, occasionally peering over the rim of her cup, casting glances your way.

Did you just ruin any chance of getting to know her better? It's probably not a great sign she walked out without reacting to you admitting your crush on her.

From her seat, Wanda’s mind races. A part of her is wracked with sadness. Sadness to see no recognition in your eyes still. How could someone forget something that meant so much? And more importantly, why did fate have to play such a cruel hand?

How could you forget her? Someone you risked your life for?

But then, another realization strikes her.

You wanted to know her name—for weeks now, since she started visiting you on Thursdays. Perhaps you don't remember her from your past, but your interest in getting to know her offers Wanda some reprieve. Maybe for now, she has to be content with that.

Maybe there’s no harm in what she wants to happen next. She recalls the countless secrets she’s already kept, the rules she’s broken, and the distances she's traveled just to see you. With Vision’s help, she’s been flying back and forth between states, all the while keeping it from the team. If she’s already breaking a non-disclosure agreement due to your reassignment, what's one more rule?

Taking a deep breath, she stands up, resolve steeling her nerves. She walks up to you with confident strides despite the fluttering anxiety in her chest. “Hey,” she starts, drawing your attention, “When does your shift end?”

You look up, slightly taken aback by her directness. “Um, 8 pm.”

“And after that...?”

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest. Why would she ask? Does she want to... spend more time with you? Before Wanda can make the situation even more awkward with her stammering, you attempt to flirt in the only way you know how, “Planning to kidnap me or something?”

Wanda's cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson, her eyes widening in surprise. “No! I just thought—”

“Oh, I didn't mean to—” you begin, regretting the choice of your playful words.

Wanda, clearly flustered, tries to formulate a coherent response. “I was just—You know, trying to be forward for once and—” She pauses, taking a deep breath, and chuckles at her own awkwardness. “I'm not great at this, am I?”

You grin at her. “Clearly, I’m no better.”

“Do you want to, uh, grab ice cream after your shift?”

“I’d love to,” you reply, your smile growing to match Wanda's. “Meet you later outside?”

Wanda nods, anticipation gleaming in her eyes. “It's a date.”

You spend the last few hours of your shift in a state of giddy excitement, frequently glancing at the clock, eager for the end of your shift. Each time the bell above the door chimes, you hope it's Wanda entering. By 7:45, you're already tidying up and getting ready to leave.

8pm arrives and with a quick farewell to Louisa, you push open the door to the café, the cool evening air wrapping around you.

Just as you step onto the pavement, there's an unexpected, sharp tug on your arm, pulling you into a dark alley.

“Hey!” you shout.

Fear courses through you, and you struggle, trying to break free. Just as one of the abductors attempts to cover your mouth with a cloth, a red blur races toward them. The abductors are thrown off their feet, their bodies slamming into the nearby wall. It happens so quickly that it's almost a blur.

But when the dust settles, standing protectively in front of you is Wanda.

“You okay?” she asks, her tone devoid of the commanding presence she displayed earlier.

You nod, but the shock has rendered you speechless.

As you try to gather your bearings, Wanda wraps an arm around you, guiding you away from the scene. “It's not safe. We need to get out of here.”

You're both a few blocks away when you finally find your voice. “What was that? Why did they... and you? What did you do?”

She stops, turning to face you, her features softening. “I didn't want to get you involved. Not like this,” she says.

“Involved in what? What's happening?” you demand.

Wanda looks down, taking a step back. “Do you trust me?”

“I... I don't know,” you say, trying to reconcile the kind woman you've grown fond of with the apparent superhero who had just saved you.

Wanda sighs, taking your hand gently. “There's a lot you don't remember. About us, about you. It's safer for everyone if you don't, but now... it seems you're in danger regardless.”

“You're scaring me,” you whisper, holding her hand loosely.

She looks at you with pained eyes. “I promise I'll explain everything. But right now, we need to go somewhere safe.”

“My apartment. We can—”

“Absolutely not,” Wanda cuts you off sharply. “If they know where you work, they probably know where you live. They'll be waiting.”

The thought of strangers lurking in your home, waiting to ambush you, sends a shiver down your spine. "Then where?" you ask, feeling vulnerable and exposed out in the open.

“There's a place,” Wanda says. “Somewhere they won't think to look.”

She leads you through winding streets, and eventually, you find yourself at a seemingly abandoned building. Wanda carefully approaches a hidden entrance, pushing open a concealed door.

Inside, it doesn’t feel abandoned at all. The walls are lined with bookshelves, filled with titles from all genres. There's a quaint kitchenette in one corner, and a cozy living area with plush sofas and a fireplace in another. A few framed photos adorn the walls, though turned face-down so you can't quite see who's in them.

“This is...unexpected,” you comment, looking around the transformed space. “Is this where you live?”

Wanda chuckles softly, “No, I live at the Avengers compound. But Vision helped me set this place up... for emergencies.”

“For emergencies?” you echo, your eyebrows knitting together. “Like being attacked outside coffee shops?”

Wanda looks away. It doesn’t matter that you don’t remember anything. You’re still so naturally gifted at figuring her out.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. But also... I was thinking about making this place a sort of... second home,” Wanda says.

You tilt your head, puzzled. “Why would you need a second home in North Carolina when you live in New York?”

She looks around the place, seemingly avoiding your gaze. But then, she turns to face you, sincerity in her eyes, “To be close to you.”

It suddenly clicks—she's been planning, making moves, all for you. As much as you'd love to revel in the fact that Wanda feels the same way, knowing she's been watching and even got a place nearby just to be close... Well, it's a lot to wrap your head around.

To say it's overwhelming is putting it mildly.

You’re not sure what to feel about these myriad of revelations. What you do feel strongly is that Wanda doesn't come across as a stalker with harmful intentions (even though saying any stalker has good intentions is a stretch).

“Look,” you say, leaning against a wall as your legs feel like they might give out. “I need to understand. Why all this? Why not just approach me or talk to me instead of... this?” You gesture around the apartment.

Wanda runs a hand through her hair, looking genuinely troubled. “It's not as straightforward as you think. Given who I am, my past, my abilities... There are dangers, complexities. And I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?” you question, your frustration steadily growing. “From you?”

“From the likes of me,” she whispers.

You take a moment, letting her words sink in. “So, all those Thursdays, at the coffee shop... you weren’t just stopping by for coffee. You were... watching me?”

Wanda sighs heavily. There’s no point in lying to you now.

“I knew where they had relocated you after you lost your memories and your powers,” she says.

“Relocated? Powers?” The words swirl in your head, conflicting with everything you thought you knew about yourself. Part of you half-expects someone to jump out and reveal this is all an elaborate prank, because how can any of this be real?

She nods slowly. “You were an Avenger, Y/N. Just like me. We fought together. We... were close. And after the incident, they moved you to keep you safe. But I needed to be sure. I needed to see for myself.”

You attempt to sift through the influx of new information, attempting to grasp each piece individually.

“How did I lose my powers?” you ask.

Wanda’s eyes meet yours, and you’re not ready for the vulnerability displayed in them.

“You lost your powers because you saved me,” Wanda says. Before you can even question her, she delves into the account of the attack at the compound, of finding her beneath the rubble, on the brink of death. You'd pulled the steel impaling her, using every ounce of your strength to mend her wounds and keep her alive. Once impervious to bullets, your depleted energy left you exposed.

In Wanda's eyes, it was all her fault.

“You sacrificed yourself for me,” she ends in a whisper.

“I did what?” Knowing you don’t have any family, anyone you’re supposed to care about, the revelation stuns you.

Who is Wanda to you?

Wanda swallows hard. “Your powers, Y/N, are linked to your emotions, to your very soul. And when you saw me in that state, you poured every bit of your energy, your very essence, into saving me. You brought me back from the brink, but in doing so, you lost everything that makes you... you.”

Your pulse quickens, snatches of memories pushing to the forefront: the tang of smoke, chaos everywhere, the gut-wrenching sight of Wanda, still and lifeless, and that burning urge to rescue her. It's like a fog's lifting, but everything's still a bit blurry.

“Why don’t I remember any of this?” you say under your breath, your hands balling into fists.

“There were complications. They said the exertion, combined with the traumatic event, caused a severe memory block,” Wanda murmurs. “We—we tried everything to bring your memories back. But nothing worked. And then they decided... it was safer to relocate you. To give you a normal life away from all the dangers that come with being an Avenger.”

“Who's 'they'? I can't even—” You stop mid-sentence, feeling a sharp headache building as Wanda's words start to sink in.

Wanda quickly moves closer, her hands reaching out to steady you. “Easy,” she murmurs gently. She pulls you into a nearby chair and kneels before you. “I'm sorry, this is a lot to take in all at once.”

You take a few deep breaths, trying to stave off the dizziness. “I just... I don’t remember any of it. Any of this.”

Wanda’s gaze drops guiltily. “And for that, I’m so sorry. I wish you never had to go through any of it.”

After a brief pause, she adds, “You should get some rest. It's been one hell of a day.”

Guiding you gently by the arm, Wanda leads you to the adjoining room. As you step inside, you notice the room’s simplicity: a wardrobe, a bedside table, and a single bed positioned under a window. Your eyes dart between the bed and Wanda, and you mumble, “I can take the couch.”

Wanda shakes her head, dismissing the idea, “Nonsense. You'll take the bed.”

“That's not fair. I can't take your bed,” you argue, your eyes fixed on the plush pillows and blankets.

She smiles, feeling a sense of déjà vu from the first time she took you to her room. “I'll sleep on the floor.”

“No way,” you retort. “If anyone's sleeping on the floor, it's me.”

Wanda sighs and then says, “Look, the bed's big enough for both of us. It's not like we haven't shared a bed before…”

You blink, taken aback. Another missing memory? You ponder for a moment, then give a reluctant nod. “Alright, but only if you're sure.”

Wanda grins, the edges of her lips curling up sweetly. “I am.”

She then moves to a small closet and pulls out a shirt and some sleep shorts. “Here,” she hands them to you, “they should fit.”

You thank her, examining the clothes. They look comfortable enough. Both of you stand awkwardly for a moment before you break the silence. “Shall we...?”

Wanda nods, and with a quiet agreement, both of you turn around, ensuring your backs are to each other as you change. After that, you both move to opposite sides of the bed. Before lying down, you grab a pillow and place it squarely in the middle, creating a clear boundary.

Wanda glances at the pillow barrier, a smirk playing on her lips. “Seriously?” she says with a playful lilt.

“What?” you shoot back, a bit defensive.

Her fingers tracing the edge of one of the pillows. “We used to do this, you know,” she explains vaguely.

“What?”

“We had a pillow barrier for a short time in the past. It didn't last long, but…” Wanda trails off, feeling a little silly for bringing up a memory that you clearly don’t recognize at all.

Sensing her despondency, you urge her to tell you more. “Why didn’t it last long?”

Wanda dares to meet your eyes in the darkness. “We became closer, in every way. The pillow just... became unnecessary.”

You nod slowly, processing her words. Even though you can't recall the memory, you can sense the significance of it to Wanda.

“Well, for tonight, the pillow stays,” you murmur.

She nods, her eyes misty. “Of course. Tonight, it stays.”

Both of you turn away, but just being near each other brings a sense of peace. Given everything that's happened today, it's surprising how quickly the two of you are pulled into a deep slumber.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #captain america civil war #the avengers #vision

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racinggirl · 2 months

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Racing Hearts - prologue

a/n: I've spent an entire evening trying to perfect this prologue. I wanted it to give away the essence and personality of both main characters, so hopefully I made that work. I have to say that I am slightly scared, because this is my first ever multi-chapter story I'm writing, but I'm trying! Hopefully you will enjoy it.

Repost, comment or any type of support is very welcomed! It keeps me motivated 🫣

Comment down below if you want to get added to the taglist

warnings: dark!lando, confident!lando, business!lando, nothing much really, just rich people stuff.

Racing Hearts Masterlist

next chapter

Olivia

The sky was filled with a range of colours, varying between bright pinks, pastel oranges and deep, dark purples contrasting against the black from the night sky. As the wind breezed past me, the few strands of hair that weren’t tucked into my messy bun flew up in front of my face. I tightened my grip on the balcony’s railing, inhaling sharply before slowly breathing out.

I can do this. I can do this.

Tonight was one of the most important evenings of the year, the annual Charity Gala in Monte Carlo, Monaco. Me and my family lived in London, but business isn’t tied to one city, or even one country.

I’ve travelled a lot, flying to New York City for an opening of one of Harrington Enterprises newest Jewellery stores, or going all the way to Dubai to accompany my mother to one of our fabric manufacturers. They were all business trips, as was the one I’m attending on my own right now.

Monaco, home of some of the most wealthy, successful and busiest people on earth. You only lived in Monaco for two reasons. A, you were born here. B, you had plenty of money and had no idea what to do with it. Seeing as the average net worth of a Monaco citizen is above ten million dollars, I’d say ninety-nine percent of the people at this gala belonged to category B. I had to make a great impression; it was my job as the PR Director at Harrington Enterprises.

I wasn’t a stranger to a high society gala; however, I had not experienced something as extravagant as this before. High ceilings, decorated with glass chandeliers that glittered in the big open room. Waiters moving effortlessly through the crowd, holding trays with glasses filled with champagne that cost more than your average rent.

My eyes roamed the big, crowded room, searching for the man that stood number two on my list; one of the reasons my parents informed me of this Charity Gala. He was a well-known fashion icon and businessman in this world. Nate Thompson.

I spotted him at the bar, talking to the women that were nearly drooling at his feet. The man was eye-candy for every woman at this event. With broad shoulders, a sharp jawline and masculinity that made multiple men run for their money, he was one of the most successful bachelors out there.

I gathered my courage and stepped towards the man, shoulders straight with a friendly yet professional smile plastered on my lips. As I approached, Nate’s eyes met mine and he gave me one of his warm, welcoming smiles.

‘’Olivia Harrington,’’ he said, extending his hand. ‘’I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.’’

‘’The pleasure is mine, Mr. Thompson,’’ I replied, shaking his hand firmly. ‘’Such a wonderful place, isn’t it?’’ I slowly let go of his hand, keeping my posture straight and professional.

‘’Please, call me Nate,’’ he said with a wink. ‘’Mr Thompson makes me feel old.’’

As the night went on, we struck up a conversation about his newest fashion items. He spoke about different designs, as well as places for shop openings. As much as I loved the fashion world – shopping at Versace, Prada and Chanel never got boring – I had to hold back a yawn once every few minutes.

‘’Your father has done a tremendous job attaining the vacant buildings at Bond Street.’’ Nate did exactly what I expected him to do, and it surprised me how little effort I had to put into this conversation. ‘’A very, very astonishing job.’’ Nate continued speaking highly of my father’s deals.

Bond Street was one, if not the most expensive street in London. My father bought most of the houses a few years back, when the house market was at it’s lowest. It was no surprise Nate Thompson was looking for the best of the best when it came to opening his new store in London.

‘’He did, indeed,’’ I reached into my designer bag, fishing out a business card of my father’s company. ‘’It would be a perfect location for Thompson’s, wouldn’t it?’’

Nate didn’t hesitate once and reached out for the card I held out with my fingers. ‘’Pleasure doing business with you, Olivia, you’ll hear from my team.’’ A satisfied smile appeared on my face when Nate gave me a curt nod, me returning the favour by raising my glass ever so slightly.

One down, one to go.

‘’Impressive.’’ The dark, smooth voice scattered goosebumps all over my skin, it made my body react in ways I hadn’t felt in quite a while.

My eyes followed the voice, and I was met by a tall figure. A tailored black suit that hugged those broad shoulders. Dark curls that looked a perfect combination of messy and neat. Eyes, a colour that I couldn’t quite decipher. Green, blue, a hint of grey or even brown, but what I did know was that those eyes pierced straight through me, looking into the depths of my soul.

The low chuckle that rose from his throat snapped me out of my thoughts. I gathered myself and lifted my chin up ever so slightly.

Let’s tackle the number one on my list.

‘’Mr. Norris, what a pleasure.’’

Lando

Emerald green never had been one of my favourite colours, it stood out great with my tan, though. It was sophisticated, elegant and not too in your face. You’d think it would be a colour that I adored, well, you couldn’t be more wrong.

Orange was more my colour, it was fierce, available in many different shades, perfect for every occasion. Mix it with a dark shade, it stood out. Mix it with a light shade, it blended in. A perfect representation of my life.

As a racing driver, you needed dark, to stand out to be the best of the best, to catch people’s attention to gain yourself a spot in the spotlight. But you also wanted to blend in, to move through the field without getting noticed, yearning for the privacy that was so hard to attain.

In the world of business, it was similar, yet different. You needed dark so you could make money, be the best of the best, without having that spotlight. Because having that spotlight in the business world meant you needed that light more than ever, needing to blend in so you wouldn’t have that target on your back.

Combine the two, and you learn to be ahead of everyone, two steps ahead to get whatever you want, whenever you want.

I reached for a glass and raise it to my lips, my eyes staying glued to the business deal being made in front of my eyes.

Everybody that attended this Gala wasn’t here for the good sake of their heart. No, a Charity Gala was the perfect way to make it look like you’re donating money for those in need, when in fact it’s the perfect cover-up for a business deal. One that was being closed a few meters away from me.

Once the deal had been made, I made my way over with a few long strides. She didn’t hear me approach, causing her body to react instantly to my voice.

‘’Impressive.’’ I never expected Olivia Harrington to strike up a deal with Nate Thompson in just under 17 minutes. The man was harder to please than a newborn baby that needed its mom. However, I suppose when you’re looking for a new location for your shop, Bond Street was the place to be, a coincidence that Richard Harrington had exactly what Nate needed? I don’t think so.

I never underestimated the Harrington family; they were one step ahead most of the time. It’s a good thing I’m always two ahead.

‘’Mr. Norris, what a pleasure.’’ I took a hold of her hand, ignoring the way her soft skin felt against my own. ‘’Ms. Harrington.’’ Her hand let go of mine, and I grinned slightly at the subtle flush of her cheeks.

‘’Surely not eavesdropping, I hope?’’ Her soft yet sharp voice was a complete contrast to the previous shock on her face when she laid eyes on me.

‘’Merely observing.’’

My gaze flew over her body, the way that emerald green dress hugged her body in the right places, the tanned legs underneath that dress going down to the Louboutin’s she was wearing. I wasn’t one to back away from a bit of flirting, I absolutely loathed the fake smiles and pretended interest at any business event. They were necessary, for the most part, and I was amongst one of many that took part in the fake contest, but that didn’t mean I enjoyed it.

‘’I see,’’ the smile on my face was less forced this time, but I blame it on how the woman in front of me swallowed hard, a clear indication of nervousness.

A chuckle rose in my chest. ‘’No need to be nervous, Sunshine,’’ I smirked slightly. ‘’I’m not as intimidating as they say.’’ I made sure my voice was smooth and filled with confidence, as always.

‘’Nervous? Is that another of your observations, Mr. Norris?’’

‘’It is,’’ I maintained eye contact as I took another sip of the Louis Roederer drink. At least they served some decent champagne. ‘’and I’m never wrong.’’

Another harsh bob of her throat.

I was aware of the fact I was on their list of business talks. Nate Thompson may be one of the most successful men at this event, but not nearly as successful as me. Like I said before, always be two steps ahead.

‘’Now, let’s cut straight to what brought you here. Let’s talk business, shall we?’’

TAGLIST

@smoooothoperator @tapedeck-hearts @cabbyhabs @wanderingreigns @samantha-chicago @alltoomaples @ironmaiden1313 @pinkbookloverslife @onlyzahraaaa

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tigergirltail · 2 months

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TIGER HRT CHAPTER 5 - MONTH 4 - COMMUNITY

FIRST - PREV - NEXT

It took another month after my check-in, after starting the correct dosage, for my transformation to stabilize and stop hurting all the time. My bones have settled down, my tail is getting long enough to get in the way which is honestly more exciting than annoying, and I've even got little bitty claws pushing out of my fingers! The mechanisms for retracting and extending them haven't grown yet, though, so I just… am sharp now.

It's actually become kind of a bloody inconvenience, and I use the term 'bloody' very literally. The first few times I went to go scratch an itch, I'd end up drawing blood, and having to go clean myself up and put on a bandage. I thought about clipping my claws, but I have no idea if that's going to stunt their development or have consequences when I can finally retract them, and it's not something that seems worth bothering Dr. Erian about. The biggest problem is that sometimes I'll move my arms in my sleep, and there's no way of telling what'll be in the way. I've already had to conduct emergency repairs on three plushies, and my bedsheets are kind of a write-off.

I was a little afraid of the pain subsiding, if I'm being honest, because it means going back to work, which means existing in a public space with my half-human half-something-else face. It's still cold enough that I can wear a scarf and toque over the more off-putting features, but that won't last much longer and it's not something I can do indoors. I'm just going to have to face the truth…

I don't pass as human anymore.

My first day working in-person again, my supervisor walks into my office with the intention of welcoming me back, but what actually happens is he stands in the doorway dumbfounded before asking, "Now what in the world happened to your face??"

For all the time I had, I never actually managed to think of a clever lie, so I just tell him it's a side effect of some new meds I'm taking. Technically not a lie, if you ignore the word 'side'. Fortunately, he doesn't ask what's wrong with me. I'm not looking forward to having to tell someone who doesn't get it that Being Human counts as Something Wrong.

Work has been alright, though, if a bit dull. My coworkers mostly leave me to my own devices to get things done.

It's doing anything else that becomes an issue.

I get lots of stares in the grocery store or the mall. I'm not sure whether it's the inhuman face that does it, or the fact that I nearly always wear t-shirts and my fur is now growing up to my wrists. I think it's growing faster now that it's run up against peak arm hair territory. Either way, I basically don't dare set foot outside without my partner in tow. Nobody's tried anything yet, but I see them shying away from me, and just the other day a little kid called me a 'monster'. It's… still eating at me.

I never could take being the centre of attention.

It's not all doom and gloom, though. I don't know whether the tactile senses of my hands have changed or it's something psychological, but that thing cats do where they knead something with their claws? "Making biscuits" I've heard it called?

It feels soooo niiiice.

Last weekend I went to take an afternoon nap, and ended up spending a solid half hour just squishing my blahaj with my hands (or would that be 'paws' now?) All the stress from the previous week just… melted away. It was like an ASMR video for my sense of touch.

Is it bad that I'm really enjoying being a little more cat-brained?

I've also become RAVENOUSLY hungry. As in, "destroy an entire rotisserie chicken in one sitting" hungry. The meat cravings have kicked in, HARD, and I've basically lost my appetite for bread and pasta. You really don't realize how much human food is grain-based until you stop wanting to eat it…

All the big changes hitting at once are getting hard to withstand sometimes. There are nights when I go to bed absolutely euphoric about how it's finally happening, I'm finally embodying everything I'm supposed to be! But there are also nights when I cry myself to sleep because oh gods, what was I thinking, why am I doing this to myself, I look and feel like a godsdamned circus freak, and it really doesn't help to remember that white tigers are pretty much universally victims of inbreeding and abuse.

In a moment of weakness, I catch myself eyeing the remaining contents of the HRT bottle. I ran some numbers a little while back and figured out that at the recommended dose, this bottle is an entire 18-month treatment, give or take. Well, 12 months now, I guess, since I was accidentally taking a triple dose for the first three months. The fact that it's a diluted Fifteen Minute formula means that if I just brace myself and chug the entire rest of the bottle, that would finish out the treatment in one go, wouldn't it? It… probably wouldn't even hurt as much as doing Fifteen-Minute from the start, right?

My partner walks in on me holding it and staring at it, and asks what I'm doing, so I explain my thought process. They just silently put one hand on mine and use the other to gently remove the bottle from my grasp.

"But I -", I begin to protest.

"No."

"I keep getting stared at and -"

"No."

"That one little girl called me a monster!"

"No."

I start crying, and I can't help raising my voice. "If I just finish it all NOW then maybe -"

"NO."

They set the bottle down and pull me into a tight hug, pinning my upper arms to my sides. "I love you very much, and I don't want to see you hurt yourself. You went into this knowing it was gonna suck for a while, and right now it sucks, but it's not worth risking your life over."

I don't have a counter-argument. I just lower my face onto their shoulder and sob. "I just… I don't want to keep doing this alone anymore! I need… I need help! Support, guidance, SOMETHING!!" I cling to them, digging my fingers, my claws, into their back. "I don't want to be the only one…"

"You aren't.", they reassure me quietly. "Didn't you tell me yourself that there's a bunch of people doing this? We even saw a whole crowd of them at that seafood place."

"Y-yeah, but I don't know anybody local!"

"Then find them online. It's better than nothing, isn't it?"

"It's… It's just not the same…"

They pat me on the back. "Just… try. For me."

They let me cry into their shoulder for another several minutes before I let them go.

Back at my computer, I sit down and start searching for a humanity removal therapy support group. A Discord server, a Facebook group, a Tumblr sideblog, ANYTHING. Gods help me, I'm even looking to TWITTER for help. Even as a human I was a solitary creature, and tigers are about as solitary a creature as they come, so it takes a lot of effort to bring myself to reach out. I end up doing it right before I go to bed, just firing off a few quick messages to some figures in the community, then forcing myself not to look at social media the rest of the night. For all my growth, I'm still a bit terrified of being noticed.

By the time I wake up, some of them have gotten back to me. I… wasn't expecting it to be so fast.

It turns out there's a private group chat where a bunch of them hang out on the regular to talk about what they're going through. They sound open to the idea of bringing me in, but want to get to know me a little better first. I don't blame them for wanting to keep to themselves. I get to talking with one of them, a lamia-to-be, and through our conversations I get the distinct impression that, well, I'm not alone in feeling alone. Somehow I manage to convince her I'm worth knowing and having around, and she sends me an invite to the group chat server.

Time to face the mortifying ordeal of being known.

I go through all the typical new-to-the-server motions. I read the rules page - it's the usual "don't be a dick" type stuff, with some bonus content applicable to our unique situation, like not stereotyping based on species, and a reminder to not present your own experiences with humanity removal as universal fact. Then into the welcome channel to type up a quick introduction:

"Hey all, I'm Alexis, transfem (she/her), 38, 4 months white tiger HRT. Interests include gaming, tabletop RPGs, costuming, and witchcraft. Looking forward to getting to know everyone!"

A few people react with heart emojis and tiger emojis. Discord only has the standard orange tiger as an emoji, but, you know, close enough. One person reacts with a witch emoji, and it gives me a laugh.

There's a channel for serious questions about the transformation process, so I decide to hop in and fire off a quick one:

"Not that I mind this, but why am I so hungry for meat now? It hit around the 3 month mark and now I can eat an entire roast chicken in one go"

Over the course of the next hour or so, a few people weigh in. The consensus is that my body is entering a 'bulking up' phase, and needs a ton of protein to generate muscle. Just out of curiosity I go to do an online search to confirm something, and yeah, tigers are a lot more proportionally muscular than humans are. Someone else suggests taking calcium supplements to help with bone growth, unless I'm prepared to drink a LOT of milk. I am in fact prepared for that, but it couldn't hurt to drop by the pharmacy.

It also turns out that the server isn't just for people who have started their HRT, but for aspiring humanity-removers as well. There's even a channel specifically for advice navigating the whole process, including how to convince your medical provider that you're for real and you won't immediately regret it when the itching/soreness/bleeding kicks in.

One of the regular posters is a teenage girl with a corvid avatar who asks a lot of questions about what it's like to become nonhuman. Surprisingly, she's not trans like most of us are, but she is queer. It sounds like she's not in a stable situation, though - she asks at one point if anyone can think of a way to get the meds without her parents noticing.

The problem is, even if that's a possibility, someone would notice when she starts sprouting black feathers and a beak.

---

(guest cameo from @ariathelamia!)

#therian hrt #animal hrt #furry hrt #tiger hrt #trans artist #queer artist #lgbtq artist #my art #transgender #transwoman

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willalove75 · 1 year

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Alcina's New Maid Pt. 6 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu brings you in as one of her maids, at least, that's what you thought she brought you to the castle for.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn, smut, angst.

Notes: Part 6! The angst, SO MUCH ANGST. I think this is the least amount of dialogue I've ever had in a fic so I hope you all like it💕 Do I want to stay up all night and write chapter 7 right now? Yes. Holy shit yes. But I have stupid 'sponserbilities and adulting to do so part 7 will have to wait until next week. Until then, please enjoy this angsty as fuck chapter💕💕

Click here for the rest of the series

It struck you as odd that Alcina said you were to be by her side at all times, yet you barely saw her over the last few days. You were either in your room or with the girls; a couple of times you felt like Zina was tasked with babysitting you while you followed her around the castle, helping her with some of her duties. You haven't even been into your Mistresses chambers or her study since you got the concussion. Every time you did see Alcina, she didn't act like she normally does when she's around you, she seemed colder, more distant. That was apparent when you went to the dining hall the night of the incident and instead of being seated next to Alcina like you usually were, your chair was at the opposite end of the long dining table. Alcina barely looked at you, you thought maybe she just had a rough day and you tried to not think too much into it; but every time you've had a meal with them since, your chair was placed as far away from her as possible.

It was impossible for the thoughts to not flood your mind, wondering if you did something wrong, if maybe she was finally bored with you, if you just weren't living up to her expectations? She hasn't relieved you of your duties and she hasn't brought any other maids into her chambers, at least that you're aware of. The thought of her bringing another maid into her bed made your stomach twist with jealousy, but not rage. It was mostly just sadness, disappointment, heartbreak even. You hoped she wasn't, but truth be told you really had no idea and the thought haunted you a little.

The girls noticed a difference in their mother too, but they didn't dare talk to you about it, and you respected that. That didn't stop you from overhearing them mention that Alcina has been more agitated and easily angered lately. She damn near took a maids head off when the maid tripped in front of her. The maid was fine, traumatized for sure when Alcina whipped out her claws and threatened the poor girl with them, but physically unharmed.

Alcina's week has been anything but relaxing, she's done everything she possibly could to avoid you minus locking you away in your room. She tried her hardest to avoid looking at you during meals, seating you on the opposite end of the table. Being directly across from her made trying not to look at you difficult but she managed to ignore you for the most part. There were definitely a few stolen glances, but every time she caught herself looking at you she pried her eyes away and tried to distract herself with something else.

She noticed the look in your eyes during the last few meals, a look of sadness, confusion, uncertainty. Alcina brushed it off and did her best to keep the guilt from eating away at her. Her vices were her crutch during these trying times, she's been smoking nearly twice as much and drinking at least a bottle of her wine a day, sometimes two. The only vice she hasn't been able to satisfy was the sexual frustration that's been pent up inside of her. At this point she might as well be avoiding you because the minute she talks to you, she might just throw you onto her bed and ravage you, the complete opposite of what she feels like she has to do. She's been horny, but hasn't been able to bring herself to take another maid into her chambers. Instead her pent up frustrations have been released in bursts of unbridled anger.

It's not that Alcina really wants to avoid you, to shut you out, to put every feeling she has towards you into a box and never touch it again; she feels like she has to. Not only to protect you, but more for her own protection. She hasn't let herself get close to anyone since she was human, years before she was infected with the cadou and was mutated. The walls she built only got bigger and stronger once she was turned into what she is today, only letting her daughters in once they came to her. You managed to climb over and break down so many of her walls so effortlessly it terrified her, but the companionship was nice and she enjoyed caring for someone other than the girls, plus, she genuinely began to like you.

As soon as she realized how attached she was becoming, she bolted. Between Stefana and Mother Miranda, especially Mother Miranda, coming after you, wanting to cause you harm, she couldn't bear the thought of it. It was as if someone threatened to rip her heart out of her chest, a feeling she was not only completely not used to, but something that made her feel more vulnerable than she's ever experienced before. Every day since she began avoiding you she's had to convince herself that what she's doing is for the best.

After lunch you asked the girls to take you into the library, which Daniela happily agreed to, the other two followed out of obligation to their mother's orders. Daniela enjoyed the same kind of books as you, romance novels for the most part, some fantasy. She also enjoyed thrillers, but after one night of terrible nightmares that were brought on by reading her "It", you both decided it was best if she read those by herself. You began piling a few books you and Daniela picked out on one of the tables while the girls bickered as usual. Once you were satisfied with your selections you went to find the girls to head back to your room.

"Daniela? Bela? Cass?" You call out for them as you walk around the library. "Are you guys still here?"

After walking around for a minute and unable to hear them arguing, or even the buzzing of flies, you call out for them again; searching between the bookshelves in case they were just playing a game.

In one of the chaise lounges near the window you see Alcina laying across it, her head resting on her hand, invested in the book she's reading. Her eyes shift up to you as you come around the shelf.

"Oh, hi, sorry. I didn't know you were here." You nervously say. "I was looking for the girls."

Her gorgeous gold eyes stare into yours for a few moments, you try and see if you can gauge any kind of reaction in them but they're like stone. They shift back down to her book and she continues to read, as if you already walked away, or as if you were never there to begin with.

You feel a pain in your chest when she acts like you don't exist. It's taking all of the self restraint in your body to not break down and grab her face and ask her what you did wrong, begging for forgiveness for something that might not even exist. Instead you settle for asking if she needs anything, anything to make her speak to you.

"Is there anything you need me to do?"

Her eyes leave the page and snap up to yours, an intensity in them that hasn't been directed at you in a while. She closes the book in her hand and stands, you crane your neck and follow her eyes up, desperate for something, anything. Even if she just screamed at you, at least she'll have spoken to you. A lump in your throat grows as she turns and walks away without saying a word.

Closing your eyes in defeat, you stand there for a minute, gathering the strength to keep the tears you feel building at bay. You go back to your search for the girls, a swarm eventually showing up in the middle of the library.

"I'm so sorry!" Daniela cries and wraps her arms around you.

"What? What happened?"

"We left you!"

"It's okay," you laugh "I'm fine, I had a feeling one of you were gonna show up eventually."

Daniela looks at you, she has a small smile on her face but guilt in her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay kiddo, I'm not upset or mad, we're good, no worries." The guilt in her eyes fade and her smile grows. "Want to go read one of these?" You ask, picking up the stack.

"YES!" She squeals.

In a flash there's a swarm of flies surrounding you and lifting you off of the ground.

"Oh my god!" You yell as you laugh.

Daniela flies the both of you to your room at lightening speed, you're surprised and grateful you managed to hold onto the stack of books the whole way there. She sets you down onto your feet and emerges next to you from the swarm.

She picks out one of the books and you read to her until dinner. When the dinner bell rings Daniela whines, not wanting you to put the book down. Reluctantly, she gets up and swarms out and you follow her to the dining room.

The girls appear in their seats in the dining room as you walk in, you see your chair at the opposite end of the table, the same place its been for the last week, and you take your seat.

The maids bring out your meals, you quietly thank the maid who puts your meal down in front of you and you stare at it for a moment. What's the point of having every meal with them every day if she's just going to ignore you? There's a part of you that wants to get up and go back into your room, but you fight against the urge.

The clinking of silverware against the plates pulls you out of your thoughts and you quietly eat, although your hunger is suddenly gone.

"How was your day girls?" Alcina says. You look up and see her looking at her daughters, not even acknowledging your existence.

"Our hunt this morning was a lot of fun!" Bela says.

"Yeah, I killed so many lycans, I even got a deer!"

"Hey! I helped!" Daniela says.

"Yeah, barely."

They begin to argue over the subject and Alcina clears her throat and gives them both a look and they immediately drop it.

"Y/n started reading this really good book to me!" Daniela says with excitement in her voice.

You notice Alcina's face drop a little when she hears your name, you feel your heart drop as you watch. She gently smiles at Daniela, hiding her reaction.

"That's wonderful draga."

Your heart feels like it's in your stomach, you've barely touched your food and Bela notices.

"Do you not like it y/n?" She asks.

"Oh, no" you say, snapping out of your trance. "No it's delicious, I'm just not very hungry."

Your eyes meet Alcinas for a second and she looks away, crushing you even more.

After dinner you head to your room and read for a little while. Your stomach begins to growl and you get up and open your door, hoping to find a maid or one of the girls. Luckily you see a maid walking through the hall with cleaning supplies in her hand.

"Hey, can you do me a favor? Can you get one of the girls for me?" It's well known that you're not allowed to go anywhere by yourself now so the maid nods her head and walks off.

A few minutes later a swarm appears in your room.

"You rang?" You hear Bela say as she emerges from the swarm.

"Yeah, sorry, want to come down to the kitchen with me? I'm starting to get hungry."

"What is with you lately? You seem, weird. You and mom seem weird."

"I'm fine, just an off week I guess." You shrug.

"Okay," she says, unconvinced. "Lets go."

The two of you go into the kitchen and you whip up a quick sandwich and eat it as you both head back to your room. Once you get up the stairs Bela turns to you.

"Do I need to walk the extra 50 feet with you or can you manage not getting killed?" She teases.

"I'll be fine, thanks Bela."

She heads off in the opposite direction as you head towards your room.

As you walk past Alcina's door it opens and you see one of the new maids walk out. Her face is flush, her hair is messy, her legs are shaking and she looks mortified when she sees you. Your heart sinks into the bottom of your stomach, you know what caused the maids disheveled look, you know what just took place in Alcina's chambers. Looking up you see Alcina, who's surprised to see you as she wasn't expecting you to be outside of her door; you think you see shame in her eyes but your vision starts to become blurry as tears filled your eyes. You run into your room and shut the door without saying a word to either of them.

Hot tears flow into your pillow as you curl up in bed and sob. You're heartbroken and mad, mad at Alcina for providing such a false sense of security, mad at yourself for not listening and for getting attached. Zina was right, about everything. She'll make you feel special, but she really doesn't care about you, you're replaceable, disposable to her, just a plaything. A toy to use for her own enjoyment until she gets bored and wants something new to play with.

Unlike Stefana, you're not mad at the maid, you know it's not her fault, you don't even feel the urge to lash out at her. You're more upset at Alcina, not just for making you feel special and ripping it all away from you, but for not even giving you the curtesy of telling you. No warning, nothing. One day she's protecting you, from two different people and nursing you back to health, and the very next day its like you never existed.

Heartbroken, you cry into your pillow until you tire yourself out and finally fall asleep.

With some rare free time, Alcina decides to go to the library and find a new book to read. She picks up a book that peaked her interest and begins to read the first few pages. Immediately drawn in, she abandons her plans to read in her chambers and sits down on the closest thing to her, a chaise lounge in the corner by the window. Noises fill the library, but her attention is glued to the book so she pays them no mind. Her attention wasn't drawn away from her book until she sees something moving in front of her over the edge of her book, she looks up and sees you.

Surprised, she masks her emotions as she looks into your eyes. The knot in her stomach grows, she hears you speak but doesn't respond. Hoping you'll just leave, she turns her attention back to her book, although she can't focus at all with you standing in front of her.

"Is there anything you need me to do?"

Her eyes snap up into yours when she hears your shaking voice, she anticipates seeing fear in your eyes, she's a little taken back when she sees desperation, a deep sadness instead. An internal battle in her mind wages on, part of her just wants to wrap you in her arms and hold you, the other part just wants to pretend you don't exist. Realizing she's staring for too long she closes her book and stands up, there's a small second where she almost gives in to her desire, but she stays steadfast with her plan; she says nothing and walks away.

The look in your eyes haunts her as she makes her way back to her chambers. She tosses the book on her bed and walks up to her vanity and grabs the edge, lowering her head she pushes everything she's feeling back into its box. With her frustration and tension at an all time high she decides to try and provide some relief for herself.

She removes her hat and gloves and makes herself comfortable in her bed. With her eyes closed she pulls up her dress and slides her hand between her legs. After a few minutes of finding absolutely no relief, she gets up and goes into her wardrobe and grabs her favorite toy. This one always seems to do the trick and she's desperately hoping it doesn't fail her. She works the toy in and out of her and her anger only grows; she might as well not be touching herself because that would give her just about the same amount of pleasure that she's getting right now.

More frustrated than ever, she chucks the toy against the wall and lays back down, staring at the ceiling. In her head she goes over a list of maids she can bring into her chambers, every time she tries to picture one in bed with her, they always turn into you. Her frustration reaches its peak and she hears the dinner bell ring. A low growl rumbles in her chest and she gets up, places her hat back on her head, slides her gloves back on and makes her way down to the dining room.

She manages to avoid looking at you for the majority of the meal, focusing her attention on her plate and her girls. It wasn't until Daniela mentioned your name when she felt a sinking feeling in her heart. In an instant she pushes the feeling away, hoping you didn't witness her moment of weakness. Bela mentions that you barely touched your food and she quickly glances at your plate. It hasn't been touched except for one or two bites, you've just been pushing the rest around mindlessly.

Once dinner ends Alcina quickly makes her way back to her chambers. As she's walking through the halls she spots one of her newer maids. A cute, sweet looking girl, she can't be more than 20. Alcina doesn't know her name, and truth be told she doesn't really care to. All she knows is that the girl is quiet and does a decent job on the tasks she's assigned.

Usually when she talks to a maid about coming into her chambers she's flirtatious, mysterious, she likes to toy with the girls for a little bit, but tonight, Alcina doesn't have the patience.

Alcina walks up to the girl, who immediately looks terrified. Bending down to come off as less intimidating, Alcina speaks softly to the girl, but her demeanor doesn't change. If anything, she's more afraid now that the Lady is nearly eye-level with her. If she wasn't so pent up with frustrations Alcina would make a mental note to try and come off as less intimidating, but she's too focused on finding any kind of relief to even think about anything else.

With the girl finally in her chambers, Alcina lays with her on the bed and softly kisses her. It annoys her that the girl doesn't soften up at all, she's stiff as a board with fear, even after Alcina repeatedly tried to ease her fears, it was no use, so she continues anyway. It's not that the maiden was unwilling, Alcina told her she can tell her to stop at any time and she would, whether or not the maid believed her, or was too terrified to speak up was another story. Although if the maids drenched panties were any indication, Alcina had a feeling she was fine with it, probably just terrified that she was going to kill her. The girls soft cries as she came almost made Alcina finish without even being touched. She's never been this desperate before.

Alcina laid next to the maiden on her bed and pulled up her dress and removed her panties and ordered the girl between her legs. Nervous at first, the girl seem scattered, but after some praising and reassuring moans she found her rhythm and within minutes Alcina was cumming all over her face and hand. At the height of her orgasm she thought of you, she almost called out your name but bit down hard on her lip to stop it from slipping out. As she was recovering she looked down at the maiden between her legs and for a fleeting second, was disappointed it wasn't you. It was getting harder and harder to get you out of her head and she wasn't sure if she would be able to take much more of it. She felt as if trying to ignore you so much just made you more irresistible to her, it frustrated her to no end.

The maiden cleaned herself up and Alcina led her to the door for her to leave. Alcina opened the door and froze, there you were, standing right in front of her, walking back to your room. The look in your eyes when you saw the maiden, the way you immediately knew what had just happened almost broke Alcina. She's never felt shame like this before in her life and the guilt practically swallowed her whole. Alcina wasn't even able to hide the look of shame on her face when you looked up at her, the feeling only got worse when she saw the tears building up in your eyes.

She would have been grateful that you ran off if it didn't cause her so much physical pain in her chest seeing you that way. Knowing that she was the cause of your pain, she couldn't even think about it. The maiden stood there frozen, unsure of what to do. Alcina bent down and put her lips to her ear.

"Thank you sweetling." She said, petting her head.

The maiden took that as her cue to leave which Alcina was grateful for because she didn't have the patience or the constitution to keep herself together for much longer.

With the maiden on her way Alcina closed the door and stood there for a moment with her hand against it. She could hear your heartbeat in the room next door, she could hear you quiet sobs as you cried into your pillow. Out of all of the horrific screams and sounds she's heard in her life, hearing you crying, because of what she did to you, was once of the worst sounds she's ever heard. Alcina somberly got herself ready for bed and laid down, pulling the duvet over her. She listened to you cry until your heartbeat finally settled, letting her know that you finally fell asleep.

Alcina can't remember the last time she cried, but for the first time in years, tears escaped from her gold eyes and plummeted onto her pillow.

#willalove75 #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu fanfic #wlw fanfic #re8 alcina #alcina dimitriscu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil village #resident evil #alcina x reader #alcina x female reader

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heavenlyhischier · 1 year

Text

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬 (𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭)

one two three

word count: 3.7k

chapter summary: a little game of truth or dare never hurt anyone, right?

warnings: mild angst, cursing, drinking, steamy makeout session and build up to smut- nothing overly detailed but i still suggest you do not engage if you're a minor, unedited

notes: here is the final part everyone! thank you guys very much for all of the love i've received for this. it means so much to me and im a lil sad that it's over. feel free to send in any requests if you'd like ◡̈

The past week, your relationship with Jack was on the mend and things were nearly back to normal again. Conversations weren’t tense and the air around you wasn’t awkward and uncomfortable like it was before, but the two of you had still yet to talk about what happened. Quinn had done the unfortunate honors of interrupting your moment on the dock the day Natalie left, and truthfully, you’ve been avoiding being alone with him since.

Jack knew that, too. He noticed the way you would rush off if you saw him approaching you when you were alone. He noticed the way that you would insert yourself into a conversation you weren’t previously in when he tried to pull you away. He especially noticed that, despite the room across from him being empty, you remained in his brother's room, and that was what made his chest burn the most. He let his mind wander towards thoughts that made him feel as if the world was swallowing him whole.

The fire blazed in front of you, illuminating the group as they shared stories and their laughter echoed across the lake and through the trees. These were the moments that you cherished the most because it was one of the few times where you all got to forget about the stress of life and simply be. For a night, your worries and heartaches were let go and replaced by the feelings of content and happiness.

“Are you ever going to talk to him,” Luke nudged you, tearing your gaze away from Jack who had his head thrown back in laughter after Trevor had spilled his beer on himself.

“I want to, but I’m scared,” You spoke quietly, not wanting the others to hear. You gazed up at the younger boy, his eyes slightly glazed over and unfocused.

“Of what,” He prodded.

“I don’t know. Not being able to hide how I really feel about him,” You mumbled, bracing yourself for the stupid grin that was undoubtedly going to break out on his face as you finally admitted the one thing he had been trying for the last week.

He did, in fact, let a big teasing grin form on his face as he took a sip of his beer in an attempt to shield it from the others. You turned your focus to your lap, a light blush creeping onto your cheeks, while Luke met his brother’s burning stare from across the fire, raising his eyebrows and subtly jerking his head in your direction. Jack pulled his brow together in confusion, letting his stare find you for the hundredth time that night.

You felt his eyes on you before you found them, and when you did it was hard to fight the shy smile that formed on your face. He was looking at you like you were the only person there, ignoring the others as they yelled around him. A gentle smile of his own formed on his lips as he watched you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bashfully look away from him. It gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, you felt something more for him.

“I’m going to get more to drink,” You announced as you stood, “Anyone want anything?”

“I’ll come with you,” Trevor yelled over everyone else, Alex wincing since he was sitting right next to him.

You briefly glanced at Jack, noticing that his lips were tugged into a slight frown as he now stared at the fire. He had the same look on his face that he had when you told him that you were seeing someone from school, and you couldn’t help but let yourself read into the situation a little bit. You let the thought that maybe he was jealous wander in your mind, but Trevor throwing his arm around you and dragging you to the house distracted you from that.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit,” He wrinkled his nose as you poured the wine into your cup, “It’s so bitter.”

“You’re bitter,” You playfully rolled your eyes, placing the bottle back on the rack.

The two of you fell into a lapse of silence as he grabbed beers for the others, but you could tell he wanted to say something. Trevor was a man of many, many words, and while him offering to come inside wasn’t unusual, you could tell he had an ulterior motive.

“So,” Trevor dragged out as he stopped what he was doing to stare at you, “Can you do me a favor?”

“What’s that, Z,” You quirked an eyebrow, sipping your drink.

“Can you please talk to Jack,” He groaned, leaning across the center island to grab your free hand, “If I have to listen to him bitch about you ignoring him and sleeping in Luke’s room for the fourth night in a row I think I’m going to kill him.”

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the way Trevor looked truly distressed, his pleading eyes staring up at you and lips pulled into a pout. Shaking your head at the boy in front of you, you leaned over the counter so that you were eye level with him, his hand remaining tightly gripped with your own. With it just being the two of you, you didn’t feel the need to hide the defeated look as you prepared yourself to speak.

“I’m not ready to talk to him yet. I just- I need time to let myself get over how I feel about him first,” You explained, your voice slightly cracking towards the end.

“Or, get this, you could tell him how you feel,” He tried, giving you a goofy, teasing smile as he cocked his head to the side.

Rolling your eyes at the boy for a second time, “I think I’d rather die than ever embarrass myself like that.”

“What if I told you that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself,” He goaded, “What if I told you that it might work out.”

Your breath caught in your throat, causing you to lightly cough as you regain your composure. You searched for any trace of deception on his face, but were met only with his unwavering determination.

“I’d tell you that you’re way too drunk, Zegras,” You nervously chuckled, letting his hand fall onto the counter and backing away from him, “Let’s go back outside before they think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be.”

You grabbed your drink and a few of the beers that Trevor had pulled out of the fridge before rushing back outside. Trevor’s words were ringing in your ears as you slightly stumbled down the path. They gave you a sense of hope, but you had to remind yourself that he was drunk and he was more than likely exaggerating what he was saying.

Settling back into the seat next to Luke, Cole had suggested that everyone play a game of truth or dare. Despite the protests of the game being “too childish”, the boys delved right into it as soon as it began. There was no particular order they were going in, but the results had been quite chaotic so far. Quinn had stripped down to his underwear and jumped into the lake, Trevor had gone into utmost detail about his most embarrassing sex experience, and Alex had to shotgun the random can of four loko that was hidden at the back of the fridge.

Alex called out your name next, “Truth or dare?” He was wiggling his eyebrows as he waited for you to pick, and you’re now regretting agreeing to play along.

“Truth,” You chose as you brought your drink to your lips, “I don’t trust you guys enough to pick dare.”

“Lame,” He teasingly scoffed, “Have you ever hooked up with anyone here?”

“Jesus fuck, Alex,” Quinn choked on his drink, hand coming to wipe at the spilled contents of his beer.

The others fell silent, all eyes trained on you as they awaited your response. Jack’s stare was burning holes into your skull, and it was taking everything in you to not look at him. The once lighthearted air was turning tense the longer you took, but you didn’t want to admit the truth out loud. The boys would never let you hear the end of it, and you didn’t want Jack to take it the wrong way. You were debating on lying, but you were a terrible liar when you were sober and an even worse one when you weren’t.

“It wasn’t a hookup,” You murmured. You couldn��t help but let your eyes flick towards Trevor whose gaze was now focused on the ground in front of him.

It wasn’t but a few seconds later that the sound of the chair scraping against the gravel grabbed your attention. Jack had tossed his beer into the fire before storming into the house, the boys watching with gloomy and worried stares. You ignored Luke’s call for you as you scrambled to your feet, knocking over your cup and letting its contents spill on the ground as you ran inside. The fear of being alone with him now long forgotten as you followed him.

“Jack,” You called out as you reached the top of the stairs, “Jack, please stop.”

He paused outside his bedroom door, spinning around to face you. The look he was giving you had you tripping over your own feet and rethinking your decision to follow after him. He was looking at you as if you had broken some sacred, yet undeclared law and he would never forgive you for it.

“Jack, I’m sorry,” You weakly let out, eyes brimming with tears.

“You’re sorry,” He scoffed as he shook his head, “You’re sorry that you what? That you hooked up with my best friend or sorry that you’ve been sleeping with my brother?”

“What,” You gasped, knitting your brows together, “I’m not sleeping with Luke. And I didn’t hook up with Trevor! We kissed. Once. We were both drunk and sad and just there. It was gross and weird and both of us just wanted to act like it never happened.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? Why wouldn’t either of you tell me,” He yelled, betrayal and hurt laced in his voice as he stepped closer to you. Jack was close enough to you now that you could see the uncried tears lining his own eyes, and your chest tightened. You’ve never seen him look so utterly defeated before, not even when he had injured his shoulder and was out for a few games. Knowing you were the cause of that broke you in ways you never thought possible.

“Because we were seventeen and didn’t think it was important enough. Nothing was going to come out of it,” You shakily spoke through the tears that were streaming down your cheeks, “It doesn’t even matter, Jack. It was five years ago!”

“It does matter,” He whispered, your name coming out of his mouth in strained cracks as his eyes dragged over your face, “It matters to me, and you don’t even know why.”

Breath catching in your throat, your jaw slacked as you failed to form any coherent words. Your heart was beating so loud that you could hear it in your ears, and lungs struggling to let air in. You didn’t trust yourself enough to speak anymore, fearful that you were going to say yet another thing that was going to further alter your relationship with Jack.

“Why are you staying in Luke’s room,” He changed the subject, taking another step closer to you, “Why are you still sleeping in his bed? Your room’s empty, but yo-“

“Because you let another girl sleep in there, Jack,” You harshly snapped, shaking your head as your vision blurred with tears, “You ignored me for weeks and when I finally saw you again, you were giving my room to someone else.”

“Because I was trying to move on,” He yelled, eyes softening as you slightly flinched at his raised voice, “I was trying to move on from you, and I fucked up everything. I thought being with Natalie was going to help me forget about how I felt about you, and I know that’s shity of me. But then I saw you leaving Luke’s room that day and I didn’t know what to do. I thought you two were- I thought you were together and I was angry at you, but mostly at myself.”

You whispered his name, tasting the salt from your tears on your lips as your tongue swiped across them. Your skin was crawling with nerves as you took in all that Jack said, watching as he scoffed to himself and turned away from you. His hands came to rub at his face while yours nervously grasped at your sides, the silence that now surrounded the both of you becoming suffocating.

“I am sorry, for everything,” He rushed out as he nervously paced across the hallway, “I shouldn’t have ever treated you the way that I did, and I will spend however long doing whatever it takes for you to forgive me. And if Trevor is- If you have feelings for him, I totally support that, okay. I’ll be happy for you.”

His voice was strained as if he was forcing himself to say that he would be happy for you if you decided it was his best friend you wanted to be with. You couldn’t help but let out an almost silent laugh at the idea of being with Trevor in a romantic capacity. The mere thought alone is what caused the two of you to forget about your shared kiss all those years ago, and that feeling never changed. You viewed him in the same light as all of the other boys, except for the one standing right in front of you.

“Jack,” You reached out and gently grabbed his forearm, pulling him towards you, “I don’t have feelings for Trevor. I have feelings for you.” You hoped to God that you weren’t misreading the situation.

“You do,” He breathed, stepping into your space so that your chests were nearly touching.

“I do.”

His face was illuminated by only the light that slipped through the window at the end of the hall, yet you could still see him so clearly. His bright eyes bore into your own, dancing across your face as he memorized the curves of your lips and the slope of your nose. Your heart raced as you waited for him to make a move, any move to ease the stampede of nerves that lit fires on your skin.

Jack’s nose nudged against your own, his soft lips ghosting over yours as he tested the waters to see if you were going to pull away. When you didn’t, his hands cupped both of your cheeks and drew you in, your lips crashing together in a kiss you’ve been waiting a lifetime for.

Your hands balled his shirt in your fists in an attempt to steady yourself as he kissed you harder, deeper than you had ever been kissed before. His hand slipped to the base of your neck as his tongue slipped into your mouth, gentle yet demanding as he slowly walked you backwards until you came in contact with the wall. You’re not sure how much time had passed when he was pulling away from you, but you were certain that it was too soon.

“You taste like your strawberry wine,” He playfully pointed out, trying to catch his breath.

“You taste like your nasty beer,” You hummed as you peered up at him through your lashes, devouring the moments as they came.

His laughter reverberated across the hallway as his fingers hooked through the belt loops of your shorts, pulling your hips into his own. His thumbs snuck underneath your shirt, softly brushing over the bare skin on your stomach. You shiver as his thumbs leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, his name falling from your lips in a pathetic beg as you carefully yanked his face back to yours. The moment you said his name, his lips were on yours again.

Your lips molded with his in a way that has you questioning why you’d ever kissed anyone before. None of them fit against you the way he did, and you never wanted to go back now that you had a taste of what it was like. You gently tug at the hair in the nape of his neck, and he groans against your mouth while his hands roughly squeezed your hips.

“If you do that again, I won’t be able to stop myself,” He mumbled against you.

“Who said I wanted you to stop?”

His lips reattached themselves to yours, hands coming to grab the back of your thighs and squeezing them as a way to signal for you to wrap them around his hips. Your mouth worked against his as he walked you through the door of the empty room, kicking it closed behind him. He carefully laid you on the mattress, one of his hands coming to press against the bed and the other cradling your jaw. His mouth moved down your jaw and down to your neck, a moan escaping your mouth as he gently nipped at the sensitive skin.

Your fingers pull at his hair as he explores your neck with his mouth, and it feels as if you’re melting into the mattress when his hand slips underneath your shirt. You could feel something hard pressing against your thigh, and before you know it, you’re reaching for the hem of his shirt and tugging it off his body.

He pulls away from you, eyes soft as they dart across your face, “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to do anything.”

“I want to,” You reassured him.

You softly grasp his jaw in your hand, tilting his head as your tongue dragged across his neck. Jack let out a soft whimper as you discovered that spot, his eyes screwing shut in rapture. He let you work for a little longer before he was yanking your own shirt off and guiding you to the top of the bed. He smashed his lips with yours, your hands grabbing at his back to pull him closer to you. Jack, however, was using his free hand to undo the clasp of your bra.

Sensing your next move, Jack grabs your wrists as you try to cover yourself once your chest was exposed. He withdrew from you, a smirk on his face as he began placing soft, open mouthed kisses down your body. You squirm underneath him, the ball in your stomach growing the closer he got to your center. Jack stopped once he got to your waistband, index finger tapping your skin to get your attention.

You propped your head up, meeting his stare as he hovered in between your thighs. The sight of him peering up at you made the already damp pool between your legs worsen. He was silently asking you if it was okay to keep going, and all you could manage was a nod before throwing your head back onto the pillow. He dragged your shorts and underwear down your legs; his own coming off shortly after.

Your heart beat so fast that you thought it was going to burst out of your chest as Jack reappeared above you. He placed a delicate kiss to your lips as he carefully pressed into you. The sound you let out was like music to his ears, and he never wanted to stop listening to it.

Meanwhile, Quinn is rejoining the group of boys who are still sitting around the fire. They watch as he opens a new beer, throwing his head back as he chugs the drink. “Did you find them,” It was Luke who spoke first, eyeing the way his brother rubbed a hand across his face.

“I wish I didn’t,” Quinn cringed, crumbling the already empty can in his hands.

Trevor was the first to catch on, his laughter echoing throughout the trees as he clutched at his stomach. It wasn’t too long after that the other boys joined in, except for Quinn who was still trying to remove the sounds he heard from his head.

“At least Jack will stop bitching now,” Cole playfully pointed out followed by a round of amused agreements.

Soft pants filled the room, your skin sticky with sweat as you rolled off Jack and onto the bed. The room spun around you as you came down from the euphoria that flowed through your veins. You had your eyes closed while you basked in the feeling of what had just occurred between the two of you, not ready to give it up quite yet.

Jack slipped his arm underneath you and pulled you into his side, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “I meant what I said earlier,” He started, “I’m going to do whatever it takes for you to forgive me.”

“Jack, I think my screaming your name over and over again means you’re already forgiven,” You teased, tracing your fingers across his chest.

“While I thoroughly enjoyed it, like very very thoroughly enjoyed that,” You lightly slap his chest, “What I did still isn’t okay, and I will make it up to you. Because I love you.”

Your movements stuttered as his words echoed in your brain, but you were quick to gather yourself because you knew Jack well enough to know that his internal alarm bells were already ringing at your physical response.

Flattening your hand on his chest, you pushed yourself up so that you were looking down at him. “I love you, too. I have for a while.”

You bent down, capturing his lips with your own for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Yet, even then, you felt like no matter how many times you were able to kiss Jack, it would never be enough. He didn’t let you get far when you pulled away, yanking you back down so your head was on his chest.

“So,” He began, dragging the word out a little more than necessary, “Am I a better kisser than Trevor?”

“Oh my god.”

tags: @cherrylipscrystal-skies

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #nhl #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #luke hughes #trevor zegras #quinn hughes #alex turcotte #cole caufield

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

Text

{12} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humour

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa, and slight Wooyoung)

Words: 9,104

Warnings: Clingy Wooyoung. I honestly think that's it lmao 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: So, I know it's been forever since I updated this, or at least, it feels like it lmaoo I really hope this chapter makes up for the wait! I think it's really cute and fun. I've got a lot of stuff planned going forward, and quite a spicy scene next chapter hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven

If you thought Yeosang had been clingy after the first time the two of you had had sex, Wooyoung is ten times worse. You can hardly go anywhere in the house without him following you around, or showing up beside you suddenly in order to practically cling off of your side. He even goes so far as to appear beside you in the tub, a cheeky grin pulling at his features as he holds a rubber ducky in his one hand.

The first time he had done that, you had let out a shriek in surprise. One minute you had been alone, sliding into the warm water with your eyes falling shut in bliss. The next, you had opened them to see him sitting across from you, smiling like a mad man in love.

“Hi, Angel.” He had waved that rubber ducky held in his hand so casually before giving it a small squeeze.

The squeak it let out almost served to mock the irritation you had been feeling. Of course, Yunho and Yeosang were quick to appear in the bathroom after that, having heard you shriek and all.

“Don’t you, ‘Hi, Angel’ me! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” You had smacked his arm, chest rising and falling dramatically as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Oh, no! My Angel is suddenly having breathing issues!” Wooyoung all too eagerly leapt at the opportunity to wrap you in his arms

A blink, and you have him in a headlock, clear irritation on your face.

“Can I not be alone? For five minutes?” You shake him lightly, feeling how his one hand rests almost lovingly against your arm wrapped around his throat.

“Well, I see you two are figuring things out.” Yunho chuckles.

“I just want to take a bath in peace.” You sigh.

You can practically feel the way Wooyoung deflates in your arms, and you just know that that all too familiar pout of his is pulling at his features.

“I just want to spend time with you, Angel.”

“And you can’t do so wearing pants?” Yeosang gives his brother a once over, clear distaste on his features.

“Like you did any differently!” Wooyoung counters, still being held in that headlock by you.

That’s when you realize: oh, yeah, you’re naked, too.

That rubber ducky gets thrown in the direction of both Yunho’s and Yeosang’s heads. “Get out!”

“It’s nothing we haven’t seen before, Petal.” Yunho chuckles, easily catching the rubber ducky in his hand.

“I don’t care!” You begin tossing more small items in their direction while shoving Wooyoung out of the tub. “Privacy is privacy, and I value mine!”

“Alright, Dearest.” Yeosang smiles, his shoulders shaking lightly as he grabs Wooyoung by his ear before the younger male can hop back into the tub with you. “We’ll leave you be.”

“Thank you, Yeosangie.” You return his smile with a relieved one of your own. Crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot them all a look. “No weird demon magic, or spying through the mirrors thingy, either.”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Yunho hums, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Not even a moment later, the three males disappear from the room, leaving you to your thoughts once again.

At least you managed to get some time alone after that. However, Wooyoung was insistent of spending almost every waking moment he could with you. For two solid weeks, he would always be the one sitting beside you when you were eating, and somehow, he would manage to worm his way into your lap while you were reading in the library. He’d follow you around the house like a lost puppy, and nearly fight his brothers every night to be the one to sleep in your bed with you.

Finally, one night, you managed to convince him to give you some space. You dragged both Mingi and Seonghwa into your room before Wooyoung could appear and kick one of them out. Comfortably, you rested in bed, a male on either side of you, and just as you were drifting off to sleep, a weight suddenly laying on your chest had your eyes flinging open.

“Really?” Your bloodshot eyes bored a hole into the top of Wooyoung’s head as he clung onto you from overtop of your blankets.

“Wooyoung, you’re being too much.” Mingi sighs.

“If My Angel had a problem with it, she would say something.” Wooyoung replies, matter of factly.

“I have been begging you all week to let me breathe, Wooyoung.” You manage to bring a hand up to rub at the bridge of your nose. “We can’t always be attached at the hip.”

“Why not?” He pouts, staring up at you with those big, brown eyes of his.

“Wooyoung,” It’s Seonghwa who speaks this time, and at one look from him, the younger is shrinking in his spot. “Don’t make me call Joong.”

“Fine.” Wooyoung sighs, dejectedly slinking off of you, and off of the end of the bed.

Wooyoung slowly begins to make his way to your door, purposely dragging his feet. He glances over his shoulder, the look of a wounded animal resting on his features as he pleads with you silently to ask him to say.

“Goodnight, Wooyoung.” You say, somewhat pointedly as you turn to curl yourself into Mingi’s side.

The sound of your door clicking shut is the only response you get, and for some reason, even you can sense the way Wooyoung is surely trudging down the hallway defeatedly.

Now, as you rest on your bed the very next day, you find yourself alone at last. The only person in the room with you is Kuroo, and he rests curled up in a little ball on top of your Snorlax beanbag chair. You swear you can almost hear soft little snores coming from that little ball of black fluff as you turn the page of your book.

Finally, you have some peace and quiet.

Most of the other guys have been pretty good with you lately. Reluctantly, they’ve allowed Wooyoung the pleasure of clinging to you for the first few days after you had entered the dance studio of your own free will. Luckily, though, they’ve had your back more often than not. It seems last night might have been the final straw, for you haven’t heard anything from Wooyoung today.

A first in over two weeks.

Of course, you opt to hide out in your room, just in case. As much as you love spending time with him, he has been a little overbearing lately. You just want a breather. Plus, it’s not fair to the others that he gets to monopolize all of your time. You still have yet to see Seonghwa’s tailor shop since the incident, and if all goes well, you plan on visiting him there later today. For now, you just want to enjoy the peace and quiet solitude can bring.

About another hour passes by like this, with you simply reading alone in your room. That is, until you see a little black fluff jump onto the bed with you.

“Oh, hello, Kuroo,” you coo, immediately bookmarking your page and smiling down at the little cat crawling up from the end of your bed. The instant you place your book beside you, he’s nuzzling against your hand, blinking up at you with wide eyes. “How’s my little handsome fella today?”

A coo is all you receive back, Kuroo pushing his head harder against your hand.

“Oh, come here, you.” You chuckle, picking him up from beneath his front arms, and pulling him on top of your lap. “Aren’t you just the cutest!”

A happy chirp greets you this time, Kuroo practically climbing up your body to begin rubbing his face all over your neck and jawline.

That’s when you notice another pair of golden eyes still staring at you from on top of your Snorlax beanbag.

Your grip tightens around the black cat in your arms.

“Alright, Stinky,” you begin to move off of the bed with ‘Kuroo’ held tightly in your grip. “You have impeccable timing, Little One, because it’s time for your bath.”

The cat freezes in your arms, but only for a moment. A loud complaint is soon filed by Not Kuroo pretending to be the real one.

“Ah-ah, don’t be a little stinker,” you shake your head, managing to scruff him. You pull him off of you, shifting your arm to the side as you hold him tightly in your grip. “And don’t you dare try and claw me like the last time.”

There’s a false cheeriness to your tone as you glance down to see Not Kuroo almost curling in on himself while being held by the scruff of his neck. He glances up at you with pleading eyes, only to meet your overtly tight, albeit friendly, smile.

The two Kuroo’s lock gazes, and the one in your hand shrinks even further in on himself.

Entering the bathroom, you march right over to the tub. The instant you turn the faucet on, Not Kuroo begins wiggling in your hold to escape.

“Come on, Stinky, none of that.” You lift him so you’re eye level. “Don’t you want to be a good boy for Your Queen?”

At the way you quirk a brow, Not Kuroo immediately stops squirming.

“I think the water should be the perfect temperature by now,” you smile, somewhat maliciously.

If this doesn’t teach him a lesson, you don’t know what will.

You don’t even bother to check the temperature as you dunk Not Kuroo beneath the rushing stream. You can feel the icy chill on the tips of your fingers, but you hold tight, submerging him for a good thirty seconds to ensure he’s soaked by the time you pull him out.

Turning off the faucet, you don’t even bother to grab a towel as you exit the bathroom. All the while, you continue to hold Not Kuroo by the scruff of the neck, water dripping in a trail behind you as you head towards the game room.

The moment San notices you enter the room, his attention is on you. His gaze darts from your overtly cheery expression to the soaking wet cat held in your hand.

Both Jongho and Mingi burst out laughing.

“Where’s Hongjoong?” You ask, tone dripping nothing but sweetness.

The cat in your hand tenses.

“He went out to feed with Yunho and Yeosang.” Jongho informs you, a knowing grin pulling at his lips as he stares directly at the cat in your hand.

A long sigh escapes you.

“What happened?” Mingi quirks a brow, looking between you and the cat.

“Stinky boy needed a bath,” you reply, lifting the cat so you can stare directly into his eyes. “Isn’t that right, Wooyoung?”

The cat’s mouth falls open, and in the blink of an eye, you’ve tossed him in the direction of his brothers. Wooyoung takes the liberty to shift mid-air, water droplets flinging off of him and onto the surrounding males.

“Hey! Watch it, Woo!” San flicks some of the water droplets off of his arm.

San gets completely ignored in favour of Wooyoung attempting to stand back to his feet and go after you. Only, he doesn’t get very far, as he sees you practically looming over him while he rests on his knees.

“I just wanted a day.” You sigh, rubbing at your tired eyes. “A day without you trying to magic your way into monopolizing all of my time.”

“Angel-“

“It’s been two weeks Wooyoung.” Your sharp gaze meets his own, his eyebrows drooping dramatically. “Two weeks.”

“You have been a bit much recently, Woo.” San chimes in.

“Like you’d be any different!” Wooyoung rounds on San.

The elder simply raises his hands in his own defence.

“I have asked you repeatedly to give me space, and you have not.” There is nothing but irritated disappointment on your features as you sigh. “Do you think posing as Kuroo works in your favour right now?”

A pointed coo from the real Kuroo as he walks into the room has Wooyoung’s eyebrow twitching.

“I just wanted to spend time with you,” his voice is but a whisper as he looks down at his hands.

“I understand that, Woo.” You crouch in front of him in order to get him to meet your gaze. “But you have to understand that I also value my downtime. We’ve been spending almost twenty-four hours with each other every day for a little over two weeks. That’s not fair to me when I’ve asked you for a little breathing room, nor your brothers. Do you not think that they also want to spend some time with me, too?”

“They haven’t said anything…” he mutters.

“We’ve tried.” Mingi grumbles out a response, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You have to understand that there are eight of you, and only one of me. I cannot be in multiple places at once, and you can’t always hog me to yourself.” You go on to say. “I don’t mind a day here or there where it’s just us, but you’ve got to learn that me saying that I need some time to myself, or me asking you to give me space does not mean that I don’t want you anymore, or that I don’t love you, or that I never want to see you again.”

The whole room is silent for the moment, save for the slow, consistent drip of droplets that continue to fall from the ends of Wooyoung’s damp hair.

“Okay.” His voice is small as he continues to kneel before you.

A blink, and you’re pointing at the other three. “I count you all in this, too.”

“We know, Baby.” San smiles faintly, a certain reminiscent gleam in his eyes.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you nod once at them, moving to exit the room.

“So, which was worse?” Jongho moves beside his brother kneeling on the floor, purposely speaking loud enough so that you can still hear. “Being a drowned rat, or a dead fly?”

Your eyebrow twitches and you freeze halfway through the door.

A loud shushing sounds behind you, followed by the sound of frantic movement.

Slowly, you turn to look over your shoulder. Both of your eyebrows are currently raised in disbelief as you see Wooyoung half moving to put Jongho into a headlock.

“Do I even want to know what that’s supposed to imply?” You look between the two youngest, one of which is wearing a shit eating grin.

“Don’t you worry, Angel-“

“Remember that time you thought a fly got into your room?” Jongho’s eyes gleam with a twisted sense of amusement.

Your brow furrows, body fully turned back towards them for a moment. You notice how the two others opt to remain silent, watching on with a sense of glee shining on their features.

“A fly?” You tilt your head slightly, resting your hands on your hips as you try and recall the memory. “Oh, yeah! That was-“ your breath hitches in your throat as you turn your suddenly sharp gaze towards Wooyoung. “That was you?”

It had been during the second week at the start of this whole fiasco. You had just gotten out of the shower and had finished changing back into your moping attire for the evening when you had heard a fly buzzing around your room. You didn’t even clue in that it could have been Wooyoung after learning of his powers, considering it happened so long ago. Besides, you had other things on your mind, like how you were going to escape this ‘hotel’ you had seemingly been held captive in.

Of course, you weren’t having any sort of fly in your room, and instead of calling one of the guys for help, you decided to take matters into your own hands. Literally.

Besides, it’s not like you were really on speaking terms with them at that point.

So, rolling up the closest thing you could find, which just so happened to be a magazine Jongho had left for you that day, you decided to go fly hunting. A lucky smack, and the fly was upside down, legs twitching in the air before being scooped up and dropped outside onto the balcony.

Oddly enough, Jongho was the one who came to check on you after hearing the noise you had made by smacking the fly. Now that you think about it, of course.

“I can explain.” Wooyoung immediately lifts his hands in his own defence.

“So, you shifting into animals to spy on me isn’t a new thing?” You sigh.

“It’s not like I’m the only one who did it!” Wooyoung attempts to counter, only for Jongho to casually start walking away from him, an innocent look pulling at the younger male’s features.

“Why does this not surprise me?” You shake your head, moving to exit the room in the next moment.

“Wait! Angel!” Wooyoung scurries after you, managing to catch you halfway through the foyer. “I’m sorry!”

“Wooyoung-“

“It was stupid of me to do those things,” he continues, practically clinging off of you as you attempt to continue to make your way to the opposite side of the house.

“Wooyoung-“

“I promise I’ll never do them again,“ he slides down your body, practically clinging onto your one leg with every step you take.

You sigh, half dragging him across the floor as he desperately holds onto your ankle. Your clothes begin to become damp from the water still dripping off of him. “Sunshine-“

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

“Wooyoung!” You stop just outside of Seonghwa’s tailor shop, noticing the elder male look up from whatever he’s working on from within.

Only, from the way Wooyoung continues to babble at your feet, grovelling with every word, you let out another sigh. Pleadingly, you turn to look at Seonghwa through the glass of the door, begging him silently to help you.

A blink, and Seonghwa is staring down at Wooyoung from the open door with a scrutinizing gaze.

��Wooyoung.” The elder says the younger’s name, quite pointedly at that.

“I just wanted to spend time with you, Angel.” He pleads for you to understand, his eyes wide as he looks up at you.

“I know, Woo.” You sigh. “I’m not mad. In fact, I’m more upset at Jongho right now for essentially pulling a San.”

“Hey!” A loud complaint sounds from down the hallway from the elder male.

“Marshmallows.” You call back, which immediately shuts him up. Then, you’re turning your attention back to the soaked male clinging to your leg. “Besides, we just agreed that you were going to give me space.”

“But-“

“Should I tell Joong to come back early?” Seonghwa mentions casually. “We all know the consequences of not respecting Our Queen’s boundaries.”

This has Wooyoung immediately back on his feet, straightening out your shirt for good measure.

“I’m not disappearing, Woo. I can promise you that.” You pat his arm lightly. “Now, go apologize to Kuroo for impersonating him while he was in the room.”

“Fine.” He sighs, trudging back down the hallway.

“And go wrestle your younger brother for being a shit disturber, or something.”

This has him immediately perking up, a sly grin tugging at his features. A quick turn from him, and he’s shifted to place a kiss onto your cheek before racing back down the hallway once more.

A shriek in the distance is all you hear that Wooyoung is most certainly doing something to get back at Jongho right now.

Turning back to face Seonghwa, an amused grin pulls at your lips. You notice he already wears one of his own, you shaking your head lightly while smiling to yourself. At least that seems to be dealt with now.

“May I come in?” Your inquiry is nothing short of sweet as you step towards Seonghwa.

“Of course, My Divine.” His answer is instant as he holds the door open for you. “Join me any time you’d like. You never have to ask.”

Gently, you place a kiss onto his cheek as you walk passed, letting that serve as your answer. Briefly, your eyes take in the familiar sight of his tailor shop, many different memories flooding your mind.

“What are you working on?” Your gaze catches on a bust in the centre of the room, different than what you’re used to.

“Well,” the soft sound of the door closing echoes throughout the room as he walks over to you. A blink, and he’s wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you flush against his chest as he stands behind you. “My Divine requested corsets for all of us, so I thought I should work on those today.”

Your hands come up to rest over his arms, leaning further into his touch as you relax into him. “Whose are you working on right now?”

“Yeosang’s.” He replies, and you both shift your eyes to look at the bust before you.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you fully take in the detail of the corset before you. It’s a light cream in colour, with golden detailing along the seams. The style is over the shoulders, the placement of the fabric appearing as if the corset is layered. The light colour, combined with the almost intricate detailing of such a simple design has your heart fluttering at the mental image of Yeosang wearing such a thing for you.

“It’s beautiful, Hwa.” You breathe, eyes continuously taking in every minute detail

“I’m glad you like it.” He chuckles, burying his face into the side of your neck.

“Have you made any others, yet?” You turn slightly in his arms, subconsciously tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck.

Seonghwa hums in response, “I’ve made yours.” A pause. “And mine.”

Subtly, your fingers press a little firmer against his arms.

“Would you like to see?” There’s an undertone of excitement to his inquiry, along with a hint of nervousness.

“I would love to.” You smile, managing to turn your head to place a kiss against his temple.

Parting from you somewhat reluctantly, Hwa disappears off to the side, pulling out two separate busts. He places the first one beside Yeosang’s, but the other, he purposely hides behind his back for now.

“This one is mine.” He says, motioning to the newly placed corset resting beside Yeosang’s own.

A look of complete wonder rests on your features as you take in the detailing of the corset before you. It’s a bit simplistic in design, but still beautiful. The black material only serves to cover his lower torso, appearing to rest just below his bust. Intricate silver leaves are embroidered on the fabric, silver stitching lining the seams.

For a full minute, you do not speak. Instead, you cannot tear your vision away from the corset before you, your mind swirling with images of what Seonghwa will look like wearing such a piece of clothing for you.

You swallow thickly, you lips parting, “It’s beautiful.”

It’s hardly noticeable, but his shoulders seemingly sink in relief at your words. “I’m just glad you like it.”

“I can’t wait to see you in it.” Comes your earnest reply, shifting your gaze over to meet his own.

“Well, if you like those, then I’m now certain you’ll love your own.” The corner of his lips quirks upwards as he steps aside to reveal your own corset to you.

A gasp escapes you as your hands come up to cover your mouth. You can hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears as your eyes go wide, nothing but excitement and love flooding your veins.

Before you rests one of the most intricate corsets you have ever seen in your entire life. The base is pure white, golden threads running throughout the fabric. Embroidered florals and leaves rest along the bodice, while the seams are lined with more of that striking gold. It’s strapless, with a slight sweetheart neckline at the top.

The exact inverse to his own corset’s design, but almost the exact same colouring to Yeosang’s.

“Seonghwa,” you manage to lower your hands as you meet his somewhat nervous gaze. “I love it!”

A radiant smile is immediately taking over his features. “You do?”

“Of course I do!” You take a step towards him to inspect the detailing of the corsets closer. “These are all incredible! Did you hand stitch these?”

“It took me some time, but I finally found a pattern I thought could suit us.” He shrugs off your words casually.

“You mean to tell me that you embroidered these yourself?” You lips part in awe.

“If it’s for someone important to me, I make all of the patterns myself.” He nods, averting his gaze somewhat shyly.

A few more steps, and you’re in front of him, cupping his cheeks gingerly in your hands.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” You gently guide his gaze to your own.

His lips twitch upwards in the corners, a warmth beginning to bloom beneath your hands and upon his cheeks.

“My Divine asked, and I am more than happy to deliver.” He whispers.

Again, you place a kiss upon his cheek.

“They’re all going to be matching, aren’t they?” You smile, turning to face the corsets once more.

“In one way or another, ours will all bear some resemblance to your own.” Seonghwa confirms, wrapping his arms around you from behind for the second time this day.

“Something tells me you have some idea when we’ll be wearing these.” You tease, poking his arm lightly.

“I do.” He hums. “Your coronation ceremony.”

Your body goes still in his arms, “Uh…”

“Don’t worry, My Divine,” he chuckles. “That’s still quite some time away.”

“But there will be one at some point.” You respond.

“At some point, yes.” He confirms, and you can hear the amusement in his voice. “We still have to officially crown you as our Queen, you know.”

“Right,” You nod a few times slowly. “I guess with all that’s going on lately, I forgot about that little detail.”

“Well, it’s not quite a little detail to us.” He grins. “We’ve been thinking about it far longer than you could ever imagine.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” You tease, leaning further back into his chest.

“I was hoping for that dress to be what you wore for the ceremony, but unfortunately it seems that fate had other plans.” Seonghwa’s words are low as he exhales disappointedly.

This time, you tense.

“Seonghwa, I-“

“Wasn’t it you who told me to stop apologizing for the things that we can’t control?” He’s quick to cut you off, turning you around so that you’re facing him. Gently, he grasps your chin in his one hand, holding your gaze with his own. “All that incident told me was that I could make something better. Something truly worthy for you, and I think I already have.”

Your eyes dart beside you, almost searching for that corset that you know is just resting behind you for the moment.

“Yes, I decided to approach things from a new angle. Starting with those corsets have breathed new life into my designs.” He smiles, shifting his hand over to cup your cheek. “I know we have discussed it before, but it is important for me to say it again now: I do not, and I will never blame you for what she did. Inside of these walls, out there,” his eyes dart to the hallway, “Anywhere, or for anything for that matter. I don’t want you thinking that I do. We’ve had our disagreements in the past, but please, My Divine, never believe I would ever think for a single second that you are at fault for what she has done. I am simply glad you are safe, and most importantly, still alive.”

Your expression softens, and you find yourself lifting a hand up to rest on top of his own over your cheek. Leaning into his touch, your eyes flutter closed.

“I appreciate that, Hwa,” you breathe. “Know that I don’t blame you, either. What she did to me, to us, does not rest on your shoulders. I know you tend to blame yourself for everything that goes wrong, and if you’re still having doubts, I will be here to ease them all from your mind.”

For a moment, nothing more is said between the both of you. Instead, you opt to revel in this silence, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, and as you both cradle each other so gently in each other’s hands, you both know that everything will be okay.

“So,” a mischievous glint begins shining within your gaze as your eyes dart beside you once again, “Can I try it on?”

Ten minutes later, and you find yourself standing directly in front of that same three way panelled mirror as the very first time you entered his tailor shop. Seonghwa rests behind you, tying off the last string to the corset before fluffing out the skirt of the dress he’s temporarily paired with it.

Finally, he takes a step back to admire you.

You hear the hitch in his breath before you even lift your head to meet his gaze in the mirror. Though, this time when he steps up behind you to gently place his hands onto your hips, you don’t tense.

“How you become more beautiful every time I look at you escapes all sense of logic and reason.” He breathes out, the ghost of his breath tickling the side of your neck.

The giggle you give him in response is music to his ears.

“You never seem to hold onto logic whenever you’re around me.” You tease, smoothing out the front of the skirt you’re wearing.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” He places a tender kiss against your neck, right above your racing pulse. “You look breathtaking, My Divine.”

A bashful smile pulls at your lips, your heart racing in your chest. “Thank you.”

Slowly, Hwa makes his way to your front, trailing his hand delicately along your side as he does so. You can feel his gaze roaming every inch of your bodice as he comes to stand before you, his eyes dark, yet calculating.

“Are you comfortable? I didn’t do it too tight to begin with, but I can still make adjustments if need be.” He comments, glancing upwards briefly into your eyes.

“Everything feels fine, Hwa.” You assure him. “I am quite comfortable right now, and I mean that in more than one way.”

His eyes flash black, hands smoothing down your sides in a tender caress. He smiles. “I’m glad.”

“I mean it, Seonghwa.” Gently, you take his hands into your own, stepping down from that little platform in order to be closer to him. “I know you’ve been cautious this whole time since I entered here today of overstepping boundaries again.” The way you can feel his hands tense the slightest bit in your hold from your words says it all. “You don’t have to worry about that, anymore. You can touch me, Hwa. I promise I won’t run away this time.”

There is nothing but absolute adoration shining behind Seonghwa’s eyes as he meets your own. A love that you can feel in the way he gently squeezes your hands in his own. Even more so when he leans forward to place a tender kiss onto your forehead.

“Believe me, My Divine,” he keeps his voice low as he pulls away only to lean his forehead against your own. “You don’t realize how often my thoughts swirl with my desires for you. I’d just rather wait until after your coronation to rip this corset off of your body and take you in every and any way that you desire me to.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, “Oh.”

Seonghwa smirks. “Yes, ‘oh’.”

“Well, I might request that the corsets don’t get torn to shreds if we can help it.” You giggle. “Seems a waste to do so to such beautiful pieces of clothing.”

“I can always make more.” He quirks a brow.

“But none of them would be the first.” You rest your hands upon his shoulders. “They wouldn’t hold the same meaning.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he sighs, taking a small step away to admire you once more. “One of these days, I’m tearing one of my designs right off of you, though.”

“Something tells me you already have something in mind.” You grin knowingly.

“I’ve got a few things.” He hums, grinning right back.

Your eyebrows raise in amusement as you close the distance between the both of you once more. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers delicately lacing through the hair at the back of his neck.

“I’ll model for you anytime, Mars,” The words are but a sultry whisper on your lips, eyes hooding over as you stare deeply into his. “You just let me know the time and place.”

“Don’t give me even more ideas, My Divine,” His voice is but a low rumble as he pulls you flush against his chest. “You already know how hard it is for me to control myself around you.”

You lean into him closer, lips nearly ghosting his own.

His breathing deepens, hands tightening around your waist.

“Then, how delectable it will be when I finally let you indulge.”

A shudder caresses his spine, nothing but a low growl escaping his lips.

Again, you giggle, pulling away from him with a vibrant smile on your lips. Turning slightly, you face the mirror beside you.

“I do like the style of this dress, though.” You say, acting completely oblivious to the raging storm of desire you’ve just ignited within Seonghwa who is barely controlling his breathing while standing right beside you. “You just had this laying around?”

“Believe it or not,” his voice is a little strained as he attempts to calm himself down, “I’ve had quite a few things already made for you for some time now.”

This piques your interest. “Oh?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time making things for you, My Divine.” He clears his throat lightly, straightening himself. “Yunho isn’t the only one with you as his muse.”

Your heart warms, a loving smile tugging at your features. “I am glad to be able to inspire you so.”

A tender smile in response is all that you get.

“Does this mean you still have all of those dresses from that first dinner?” You tilt your head, nothing but curiosity reflected in your eyes.

“I do.” He nods once in confirmation.

A moment later, Seonghwa has moved off to the side, pulling a curtain back to reveal a row of dresses hanging delicately along a rack. Familiar dresses. The only one that’s missing is his.

Realization crosses your features, those all too familiar mental strings flashing in your mind.

“You made all of them. Not just for me, but for them, too.”

His lips twitch upwards in the corners, “They told me what they wanted, and I did my best to bring their visions to life.”

You step towards the rack, gazing at the dresses akin to how you looked at them the very first time you saw them. Delicately, you pull each one out to take in the full detail.

“Of course Wooyoung would make his a wedding dress,” you chuckle, looking over the beadwork of the princess style ballgown.

“You can’t blame the man,” Seonghwa chuckles along with you. “We were all eager for you to finally come to us.”

“Believe me,” you meet his gaze, moving on to the lavender gown next. “I know.”

Again, you pull out the satin material, noticing how the thin straps give way to a very low back. The triangle cups on the front before the bodice begin also leave no room to the imagination.

“I do love the style of this dress, but there was no way I was going to wear it back then.” You gently rub the smooth material between your thumb and forefinger. At the mildly confused look Seonghwa gives you, you’re quick to continue, “Open invitation to stare at my chest; my boobs would have been practically falling out.”

Seonghwa nearly tumbles over while standing upright.

“I’m not about to go to dinner with men that I don’t know with my chest on full display.” You joke.

“We would have been respectful!” Seonghwa immediately attempts to defend both himself and his brothers.

“Right.” You snort out a laugh. “And Yeosangie isn’t a boob’s guy.”

The tips of Seonghwa’s ears being to burn bright red.

“In his favourite colour, no less.” You hum, clearly amused. “Granted, he’s much more subtle than some of your brothers. Mingi isn’t very good at hiding when he’s staring at my ass, his gaze can be quite intense. Thinks he being subtle, too.”

“I’ll let him know.” Seonghwa clears his throat.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” you turn to meet Seonghwa’s gaze briefly, a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s nice to know I’m wanted.” You turn back to the row of dresses. “Though, maybe keep the eye-fucking for when we’re not in public, yeah?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Seonghwa grins, a small chuckle escaping him. “Though, I can’t promise you much.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” you shoot a playful wink in his direction before pulling out the emerald green dress next. “Speaking of dear Mingles.”

“If anyone but you called him that, they’d be decapitated by now.” Seonghwa jokes, shifting to pull out his chair before taking a seat to continue watching you go through all of the dresses he made for you for that one night.

“Good thing I’m not just anybody.” You grin, observing the way the material of the strapless goddess wrap falls from the hanger.

The material pinches in one place on the left side, allowing for a sort of angled hemline which ends just above your knees. The wrap of the dress is meticulous, silver gems serving to pin the wrap in place, glittering beneath the lights of the tailor shop around you.

“No,” he agrees with a hum, leaning back in his seat as he observes you with a loving gaze, “you’re not.”

Moving on to the next gown, you pull out what had been your second choice for that evening all those months ago.

The red dress is just as beautiful as you remember, the capped sleeves giving way to the sweetheart neckline. Tulle flows from the waistline and all the way to the floor in a seamless line, accentuating the length of the gown. Though, as you pull the skit, you realize that there seems to be a slit running all the way up the side, hidden beneath the layers of fabric.

Your eyebrows raise in amusement.

“Do you think it would have been easier or harder for me to stab him wearing his dress?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone as you turn to face Seonghwa once more.

“My Divine, I think you underestimate the power you hold when we see you wear something of our own design.” He remarks. At the way you quirk a brow, he continues, “If you wore that dress for him… hell, if you wore anything red for him, you could get him to do anything that you want. No questions asked.”

Your eyes widen significantly, pure mirth dancing within. “Good to know.”

“The same goes for every single one of us.” He sighs, somewhat dreamily as he rests his elbow on the arm of his chair. His head is in his hand, and you can just tell by that fond look in his eyes that he’s vividly reminiscing you wearing his own gown for him all those long months ago.

The next dress you pull out to look at is a beautiful bright yellow. It’s strapless, and the skirt falls like a waterfall - short in the front before it lengthens in the back. The material is chiffon, wrapping around the bodice in a sort of layered pattern.

“Simple, yet elegant.” You comment. “It’s fitting for Yunho.”

“He has always been a simple man, in that sense.” Seonghwa agrees.

That soft smile rests on your features as you delicately place Yunho’s dress back onto the rack. Almost lovingly, you trace your hands over the fabric one last time before moving on to the soft pink dress right beside it. Pulling it off of the rack, you hum.

The lightness of the fabric falls delicately against your one hand as you see the over the shoulder straps. There seem to be two sets: one the would hang just over your collarbones, while the other falls just past your shoulders, both thin yet sturdy. The style reminds you of old fantasy games, where fairies would wear pastels, their wings fluttering behind them. The ruffled seam along the top leads into the straps that fall just over your shoulders, bodice form fitting while the skirt falls delicately in a solid piece of soft fabric to rest just below your knees.

“Sometimes, I forget how soft you all can be.” You hum pleasantly, heart swelling as you place San’s dress back onto the rack.

When you first met San, you interpreted him to be all sharp angles and brute strength. At least, that’s how he appeared to you.

A vision of him purposely flaunting himself off beside the pool flashes through your mind briefly.

Now, of course, you know differently, and this dress only serves to prove what you already know.

You smile.

Last, but certainly not least, you pull out the final dress in the row.

The youngest’s dress is probably the shortest of the bunch, the deep maroon accenting the black velvet pattern of roses found throughout. It’s quite simple in design, small slits on either side along the edges of the skit to make moving in the dress easier. The top is strapless, body formfitting.

“Something tells me Jongho was hoping a little too hard for this one.” You quirk a brow, turning to look at Seonghwa who suddenly avoids your gaze. “Ohoho, so he wasn’t the only one hoping for this one.”

“If we’re being honest, it was my second choice.” Seonghwa mumbles, still not being able to meet your eyes.

“Do I want to know?” You tease, nothing but amusement shining in your eyes.

“I wasn’t the only one!” Seonghwa attempts to defend himself, raising his hands in front of his chest.

“Yes, Mars, we’ve established that.” You chuckle. “It’s a wonder the shortest dress is the most popular.”

“Nothing to do with it being the tightest, either…” He mumbles, clearing his throat quite loudly afterwards.

You laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides as you begin teasing them about being your ‘damn horny Kings’ yet again.

“How you managed to get my measurements right is beyond me.” You shake your head, tutting lightly.

“It took me some time, but I do have almost perfect spacial reasoning.” He replies, somewhat nonchalantly.

You raise a hand, shaking your head lightly, “I don’t even want to know.”

“You seemed curious.” He shrugs.

“Wait, how long did it take you to make these?” Your brow furrows slightly as you shift your gaze back to the dresses on the rack beside you.

Seonghwa takes a moment to think about his answer, humming lightly to himself. “Probably about three months. Give or take a week.”

“Three months?” Your eyes nearly bug right out of your head.

“Yeah, I worked on them practically non-stop.” He recalls. “I mean, my own design took me the longest with all of the lace, but if I set my mind to something, it normally doesn’t take me very long to do. Or, well, create.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Three times before his words are truly sinking in.

“Seonghwa,” you turn to him, “How long did it take you to make your dress for me?”

He pauses, looking upwards as he mentally tallies the days. “About a month.”

You mouth falls open. “You spent a month working on a single dress? For me?”

“I had to make sure it was perfect.” He shrugs.

Your expression softens as you move to kneel before him as he rests in his chair. Ever so gently, you clasp his hands in your own, his words from earlier echoing throughout your head.

“You weaved the lace by hand, didn’t you?” Your inquiry is a bit airy, warmth swelling in your chest as you stare deeply into his eyes. “Just like you embroidered this by hand, too.”

The way he glances down at the corset you wear is answer enough, but he still nods softly along with your words.

A tender smile graces your lips. “You are incredible, you know that?”

Again, he averts his gaze somewhat bashfully. “It’s not much.”

“Seonghwa, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You glance up at him through your lashes.

“To be fair, you said it yourself, we’ve had quite a few rough patches already.” He once again shrugs your praise off. “It never felt like the right time, and I didn’t want it to appear like I was boasting.”

You’re silent for a moment, pursing your lips slightly as you appear deep in thought.

“What’s on your mind, My Divine?” His hand gently cupping your face has you meeting his gaze once more.

“I wish I had known.” There’s a slight downturn of your lips, a hint of guilt shining behind your eyes. “I had an inkling you had made it for me, but I didn’t realize the extent you went to.”

“It’s alright, My Divine,” Seonghwa chuckles fondly. “You don’t need to feel bad for this.”

“But I almost threw it off my balcony.” Nothing but pure regret pulls at your features.

“But you didn’t.” He reminds you.

“As scared, confused, and upset I was, I couldn’t do that to such a beautiful dress.” You admit lowly. “Especially not to one that actually made me feel beautiful after so long of believe I wasn’t.”

“I’m just happy to know you liked my design enough to choose it first.” He cups your face gently, placing a tender kiss onto your forehead.

“I should wear it again.” A casual admittance from you has him freezing right in his spot. “A dress like that shouldn’t be worn only once, Mars. It’s wasted sitting on a hanger, and not worn for its intended purpose.”

“You would wear it again?” He pulls away to meet your gaze, eyes shining with his barely contained awe and happiness. “For me?”

“I plan to wear everything you’ve ever made for me at some point, Hwa.” You admit lowly. “Everything you will make for me.”

His brow quirks teasingly, “Even the wedding dress?”

You grin right along with him, “Even the wedding dress.”

“I know for a fact that Wooyoung won’t be the only one who wants to see you in that.” His gaze drifts to the row of dresses behind you.

“I think your brothers have long since earned seeing me in their own dress designs.” You hum, turning your head to glance back at the aforementioned gowns. “As a treat.”

“You might want to time Jongho’s for when none of us are home, except him.” Seonghwa warns, helping you back to your feet as he stands from his chair. “You may not get to him if one of us sees you in that first.”

“Is that a promise?” You quirk a brow playfully.

“A Divine Temptress, that’s what you are.” Seonghwa shakes his head, stroking his thumb lovingly against your cheek.

“Only for My Kings.” You giggle, shooting him a playful wink as you walk back over to the stand.

Seonghwa follows behind, a fond smile on his features as he watches you step back onto that little pedestal. Again, you turn to face the mirrors, smoothing out the front of the dress as you examine your reflection closely.

All is silent for the moment as he looks you over carefully, noting the somewhat subtle twitch of your fingers over the material of the gown.

“You know you can tell me whatever is on your mind.” He voices softly. “If you don’t like something, I won’t be upset.”

You take a moment to straighten your spine before clearing your throat, “You said you haven’t started on the new dress to match this yet, right?”

“That is correct.” He confirms with a nod, a sort of amused gleam shining behind his eyes.

“I- uh-“ you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, averting your gaze so sweetly to the side.

“Do you have something in mind?” Seonghwa is a little too eager when he asks this.

Softly, you nod your head. “But if you already have an idea, I don’t want to-“

“My Divine,” he cuts you off with a lighthearted chuckle, moving to stand in front of you. A second later, he gently grasps your hands in his own. “Never be afraid to ask me to make you something. I would be more than happy to create for you whatever vision you have in that beautiful mind of yours.”

A reassuring squeeze is felt against your hands.

“What if…” you trail off lightly before finally meeting his gaze. “What if we designed it together?”

Seonghwa goes so still, you swear he might pass out. That is, until he’s blinking rapidly, almost as if to clear tears from his vision.

“You want to design a dress with me?” His voice is a bit airy, coming out a bit choked from his overwhelming emotions.

At your eager nod, a brilliant smile stretches across his features.

Again, he squeezes your hands, shaking them back and forth lightly in his excitement. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, you already have the corset,” you begin, an eager grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

He nods.

“So, I was thinking…”

A moment later, and you’re opening up your void to him, the mental image of you in a very specific dress filling his thoughts.

You can hear his sudden intake of breath, his eyes widening slightly as his heart stutters in his chest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer, his lips parting in awe at the vision that paints his mind.

Seonghwa clears his throat, swallowing the sudden dryness there. “I can do that.”

You smile, placing a kiss onto his cheek. “We can do that.”

Seonghwa laughs, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he wraps you into his arms. A moment later, and he lifts you into the air, spinning you around once as a joyous shriek of surprise escapes your lips.

“Hwa, put me down!” Your laughter strongly contradicts your statement as you hold onto his shoulders for support.

Gently, he settles you back onto your feet on that little pedestal. Still, he holds you to him, gazing at you with nothing but love and affection in his dark eyes.

“I love you, My Divine,” he squeezes you the slightest bit tighter as he says this. “So much.”

You smile tenderly at him, cupping his face softly in your hands. “I love you, Seonghwa.”

Briefly, his eyes dart down to your lips.

He swallows. “May I?”

You decide to tease him a little longer.

“May you, what?” You quirk a brow.

“May I kiss-“

He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his inquiry before your lips are on his own.

A pleased hum reverberates in his chest as he pulls you impossibly closer, one hand settling on the back of your head while the other rests between your shoulder blades.

Kissing you is a feeling unlike any other to Seonghwa, and he revels in it each time. He can never get enough - your touch, your laugh, your smile - anything and everything about you, he adores, and he’s sure to pour all that he is into the movement of his lips against your own. You are all that he needs.

All too soon, you’re parting from him to rest your forehead against his own.

“You make me so incredibly happy, My Divine.” He breathes out, his eyes still closed as he absolutely revels in this moment here in time with you. “It means the world to me that you wish to design something together.”

“It’s like I told San before,” you reply lowly. “I want to spend more time with each of you doing what you love to do. You’ve all done so much for me, I think it’s time I return the favour.”

“My Queen.” The way his eyes shine with unshed tears says it all.

“I’m just sorry I can’t make anything like this for you, yet.” You briefly motion to the corset you’re still wearing.

“Well,” he laughs, “I do have a few thousand years on you.”

“Just a few.” You grin right along with him. “Maybe I’ll make you a scarf, or something.”

“A scarf?” He quirks a brow.

“I do know how to crochet, Mars.” You chuckle. “Though, you wouldn’t really have a use for it.”

“If you made me a scarf, I would never take it off.” He says, matter-of-factly.

“I don’t know how durable it would be constantly getting wet in the shower,” you hum, almost absentmindedly to yourself.

“You’ve never asked us for yarn before,” he mumbles, brow furrowing in thought.

“To be fair, there have been quite a few other things on my mind.” You poke his cheek lightly.

“I suppose you’re right.” He nods in agreement.

“You ‘suppose’?” You quirk a brow playfully.

“I, uh-“

“I’m just teasing you.” You hum, burying your face into the side of his neck as you hug him close to you. “Besides, I’m surprised my grandmother hasn’t told you that yet. I also know how to knit.”

“Surprisingly, I haven’t seen her around much, lately.” He replies, helping you straighten out the dress again once you part from him.

“I wonder why,” you mumble, somewhat absentmindedly to yourself.

“Baby!”

Just then, the bell above the door to the shop jingles, and both you and Seonghwa are turning to see a frantic San rushing through the door. Both Mingi and Wooyoung are behind him, excitement shining within their eyes.

That’s when you notice, San seems to be holding onto your phone.

“It’s Vasco.” He says, holding out the phone to you with a large smile tugging at his features. “Crystal’s gone into labour.”

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