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hypnolurker · 11 months ago

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Sally Spirals

“So Ryan, what’s this thing that you absolutely had to show me, so urgently? It better not be some silly prank again…” Sally asked as she entered his house.

She had rushed over after receiving an urgent but suspiciously vague text from him. ‘There’s maybe a 10% chance that its actually something serious and not a dumb joke or something, but I suppose I should go just incase it is the real deal.’ she reasoned.

“Quick, its in the other room!” he urged her, visibly panicked.

Sally dashed through the hallway and into the living room where she had been ushered by the frantic Ryan. As she entered, she was expecting to see someone injured or maybe even some fragment of an alien spacecraft, the way he was acting. Instead the room appeared totally normal. It was only when she turned to face the television that she noticed something odd.

Spirals. The screen was covered in them. In various vivid shades of pink and purple. Swirling around in a strange, interconnecting pattern. It was impossible to tell where each spiral ended and the next began. A great big, churning mess infested the screen as Sally gazed at it in confusion.

“S-Spirals…?” she muttered dimly.

“Yes, aren’t they nice to stare at?” he said, now totally calm.

“Is this…a prank?” Sally asked, frustration building in her voice.

“No way. You really had to see this, Sally.” he said, sounding sincere.

Still, he had dropped his false urgency. He had clearly been acting to get her here. If he said that the urgent thing he needed her to see was some stupid spiral video she would never have come. That was obvious. She clenched her fists, still staring at the screen.

“What the hell? This is stupid! I’m not going to watch some weird spirals for you. Why would I even do that? What for?” she yelled.

“Its okay to be stupid sometimes. You don’t need a reason to relax and enjoy the pretty spirals do you? Besides, you protest and yet you haven’t turned away yet…or blinked for that matter…”

“Its…okay to be stupid? Relax…enjoy the spirals…yeah…don’t need to turn away just yet…” Sally stammered, before her face relaxed into a soft smile and her shoulders slumped.

“See…I was right. The spirals are important. Just stay for a while and stare.” he instructed her.

There was something creepy about his tone of voice, but Sally couldn’t draw her focus away from the screen to see his devious grin. She felt like she needed to escape before something even stranger happened, yet her body felt sluggish, almost locked in place. All her mental energy was fixated on the screen, she knew if she could concentrate a little she could move…but…concentrating on anything else seemed so difficult. She was watching the spirals now.

“I…no I should…I have to…um…spirals…just stare…have to stare…at the spirals.” Sally mumbled.

Somehow it was becoming difficult to keep track of the conversation. She was too focused on tracing the spirals for whatever reason. Her gaze following every swirling trail, sliding along spirals like she was being pulled ever deeper by some gravitational force. Like she was being sucked further and further into the ever flowing spiral pool right in front of her.

Ryan rested his hand on her shoulder. Gently he pushed her backwards and she stumbled for a moment before falling back into the sofa behind her. All the while, her eyes remained transfixed by the spirals. Even as she fell backwards she could do nothing but accept it. She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt herself sink into the plump cushions and relaxed even more. Now she could lie back and enjoy the spirals even easier. This was good.

She didn’t even notice as Ryan was fiddling with her top. There was a brief moment where she couldn’t see spirals, just a flash of white across her face, but before she could regain her sense the spirals were directly in her vision once more. She also felt slightly cooler. Then she felt a familiar sensation of relief and freedom in her chest. Sally wasn’t really sure why, she was still too lost in spirals.

It was only when she felt a finger swirl around her exposed pink nipple and the sensation sent a shiver up her spine that she realised something was wrong. Her jaw hung open and her lip quivered slightly as the pleasure drew a soft moan from her. Ryan seemed to grunt his approval at this and shifted slightly in place, but she couldn’t see what he was doing.

“Wha-what are you doing…to…my…b-b-breasts?” she gasped, still feeling the finger swirl around her nipple in slow, deliberate circles.

“Its alright Sally. Just another spiral.” he comforted the entranced girl.

“Just another spiral…” Sally repeated, satisfied. She liked spirals. This one felt especially pleasurable.

Sally’s eyelids fluttered and her eyes grew dull as she sank deeper into the spiral once more. She was now breathing so slowly and deeply, she appeared almost to be sleeping with her eyes open. Her thoughts were similarly sluggish. Forming sentences took so long that she forgot what she was thinking about by the third or fourth word. Plus, the word spiral seemed to sneak into every thought. So thinking anything coherent really wasn’t plausible for poor Sally at this point.

Ryan raised her left hand to her own breast and guided her index finger in a slow circle around her nipple, just as he had done until now. Instantly, Sally mimicked the motion perfectly, now running her finger around her nipple in that same, pleasant spiral. She moaned softly from time to time as she continued to stare at the spiral. A droplet of drool formed at the corner of her slack lips as she groaned needily.

“Spirals…feels nice…” she said quietly.

Next, Ryan’s hand snaked its way down to her crotch. Sally was too lost in the spirals to notice it unbutton her jeans and tug them down past her waist. She didn’t even notice it pushing her thin cotton panties aside. What she did notice, though, was a new spiral. A surprising and very pleasant spiral this time. Even better than the one on her chest. This spiral was happening between her legs and each complete motion sent jolts of bliss through her alongside an intense heat.

In no time, Ryan felt her pussy drooling around his fingers as he swirled them around her pink lips and tender clit in sync with her own hand on her breast. He watched her groans become deeper and more gutteral for a while, as she began to buck her hips unconsciously against his hand. Soon even this mindless motion turned into a rhythmic rotation of her hips, more of a spiral than a brainless humping movement. Sally was getting so accustomed to the spirals now.

“Good girl. Feels so good to spiral deeper and deeper huh?” he praised her.

Sally’s cunt throbbed and she smiled a dopey smile as she moaned out a dreamy “yeaaaaaahhhhhh…”

Next, Ryan moved her right hand to her crotch. Just as he had done before, he guided her into mimicking his spiral. Soon she was running her own fingers along her pussy in that same motion.

“Good girl.” he praised again.

Sally felt like she saw the spirals sparkle a little. So pretty. Her pussy and mouth were both drooling hard now and the heat was incredible. So many spirals. So very hot and lovely and fun. She was so happy now.

Ryan pushed his slick fingers into her mouth now. Sally tasted something weird, she was too dazed to understand that she her own juices were now costing her tongue as Ryan’s fingers slid further into her gaping mouth.

“Suck it, honey.” he instructed warmly.

Slowly, she wrapped her lips around them and began to suck. Just as he told her. She didn’t even process it, just followed his lead mindlessly now. As her lips formed a seal around the base of his fingers, she began to swirl her tongue around them. Another spiral! Sally was so pleased to have found another spiral, even the salty taste seemed quite pleasant now. Everything was more fun with spirals consuming her mind.

Feeling his little hypnotized plaything’s expert tongue play on his fingers, Ryan was rock hard. He could see that Sally was close to orgasm too, probably had been for a while, the way her cunt was dripping. So he slowly pulled his fingers out as he leaned into her ear and whispered.

“Good girl. I want you to do the same thing. Spiral just like that, with what I put in your mouth next.”

Sally’s head moved up and down slowly, as if nodding. “Spiral…again…yeah…” she mumbled between sensual moans.

Then she felt her head being turned slightly. Away from the spirals. She tried to keep her gaze on the screen but couldn’t help being forced to look away. When her head was turned she was met with a hard, throbbing cock pressed boldly against her lips. It was so hot on her lips! And the smell made her dizzy. Maybe she was already dizzy…

“Just like before remember, the spiral.” Ryan reminded her.

“Spiral…” she parroted, eyes wide as she gazed at the veiny rod in her face. Without another thought, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, slowly swallowing the fleshy monster whole. Once it was firmly buried in her throat and she was struggling to go any further, Sally’s tongue went back to that same spiral motion.

She could hear Ryan grunting as she continued the spiral. Her hands were still rubbing her nipple and pussy in those wonderful spirals. She was moaning into his cock like a stupid little slut, which only seemed to make it throb and twitch harder. The more it twitched, the hotter it felt. And the hotter she felt.

Even though she wasn’t looking at the screen, with her eyes closed she could still see all the spirals. If anything, they were even more vivid now. Each time his cock spasmed in her mouth they seemed to dance and glimmer. It was so beautiful. She needed to make him spasm even harder. She redoubled her efforts to make the perfect spiral with her tongue around his cock as her breathing became so ragged and her whole body itself was writhing.

Something was coming. Something big. All the spirals lead her here. She could feel it…it was…it was…

Her eyes burst open as Ryan exploded into her mouth. Hot cum pouring down her throat in a continuous flood. As if triggered by that, her own crotch exploded with heat. Her spirals became sloppy and frantic as her pussy clenched and spasmed uncontrollably and her eyes fluttered. She was cumming. Cumming and drowning in Ryan’s cum at the same time.

But the spirals. The spirals filled her vision the whole time. They had imprinted themselves directly on her retina in that moment. Her whole world was flooded with beautiful spirals and she could only gaze at them in awe as she came and swallowed in a wonderful cycle. A spiral of orgasm. It was bliss. Sally was lost in the spirals, and that was just fine.

“Uhhh…fuck. I came so much!” Ryan was a little shocked himself at just how well this had turned out.

He pulled his still hard cock out of her mouth with a pop, leaving a trail of saliva and cum down her chin as he tapped it on her still extended tongue a few times. Sally only responded with a mindless moan. She was staring forward blankly even now, though her expression was no longer the sleepy dull gaze from earlier. No, it was a distinctly eager emptiness. Like everything but pleasure had been drained from her brain. She seemed so peaceful and so slutty at the same time. Brainless and drooling cum as he rubbed his cock across her face. He felt like he was marking his property at this point, slathering her dopey face with his slick cock.

“Good girl. See, told you that you needed to see those spirals!”

Sally had only one word to say to that. The only word that seemed to stick in her newly reformatted brain.

“Spirals!” she gargled, still shivering and sweating like a needy slut.

“The good thing about spirals is…they never end.” Ryan commented, feeling the urge to start round 2. He loved spirals.

They both did.

#story #mindbrokensluts #Reconstruction #not mine

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riptideripley · 1 year ago

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Feeling Chapter 5

summary:does zoey regret everything..?

wrd count:771

angst - mention of getting shot

Rhea was panicking,didn’t know how to react to the whole situation. Yet she still went out there and put on her mami persona,did the segment and went backstage to do more on screen moments while preparing Dom in between everything. The show went by faster than she expected,feeling super cautious and nervous knowing she had to talk to Zoey soon.

Zoey was waiting anxiously in her hotel room when suddenly her phone rang,it was Randy. “What do you w-“ “I know where you’re going Zoey.” his voice rang through her ears,eyes widening. Immediately she hung up,immediately calling Damian. “Yooo Zoey what’s up?” “Damian I need you to watch Rhea. Randy is planning something and I-I don’t know what it is but please watch her” she told him,sighing in relief when he agreed. She hung up,gathering her things. She looked over at her nightstand,reaching inside the top draw to retrieve a pocket knife.

Rhea heard a knock at her door and opened it,revealing Zoey. She moved out the way letting the blonde inside,closing and locking the door. “Soo..” Rhea spoke breaking the silence,watching Zoey sit on the bed. “Look rips..I’m sorry. Me and Randy were talking at breakfast,just when I was about go back to bring you some coffee I got a call I was needed at Triple H’s office. I..I guess while I was trying to get my stuff he took my keycard.” Zoey explained,gently rubbing Rhea’s leg as she sat next to her. “..He was watching us earlier” Zoey confessed breaking Rhea’s silence. “Wait what..? And you still came here? Are you fucking du-“ Rhea was cut off with a quick kiss. “I’m not that stupid Rhea,I have Damian watching the hallway with Roman so don’t panic alright?” Zoey spoke trying to calm Rhea down which shockingly worked. “Whatever..so what do we do now?” Rhea questioned,still feeling uneasy knowing she was being watched like prey. “We can do whatever you want,I’ve been talking with Dom so we can work things out” Zoey spoke,running her hand over Rhea’s thigh.

Suddenly there was a loud bang in the hallway,causing both of them to freeze. Zoey was the first to get up,retrieving the pocket knife from her small bag as she slightly cracked the door open. It was Dominik. Laid out on the floor,blood seeping from his side onto the carpeted floor. As Zoey looked up from the sight,she caught a glimpse of a figure walking away. It was fucking Randy. Rhea was behind Zoey and quickly unlocked the door all the way,pushing Zoey out of the way and rushing to Dom’s side. Everyone in the hallway soon opened their door looking at the sight displayed in front of them. Zoey couldn’t even move,pocket knife slipping from her hand as she just stared emotionless.

Damian,Finn,and Roman soon rushed through the hallway after chasing everywhere for Randy. Finn stopped in his tracks seeing Dominik,his heart sinking.

Dom was there,head laying on Rhea’s lap as her hand was over his putting pressure on the gunshot wound. Blood was pooling beside his body and onto Rhea but that didn’t matter to her at this point. Rhea was a sobbing mess,gently shaking Dom awake every time he seemed to lose consciousness. Zoey had called the paramedics by now,hearing a rush of them flood the hallway. Zoey struggled pulling Rhea away from Dominik so the medics could assist him,having to get Roman to help. Roman could only hold her waist as she struggled to get out of grip,eventually giving up and sobbing into Roman’s chest as he turned her around holding her.

All of them rushed down stairs following the paramedics,deciding that Rhea and Finn go into the ambulance with him. Once they reached the ambulance,Rhea and Finn climbed inside promising to keep them updated.

Zoey didn’t know how to process this whole situation. She fell in love not realizing the consequences..does she regret bringing Rhea to her hotel room? Does she regret ever laying her eyes on her? Thoughts flooding her mind,not even realizing how light headed she was. Roman was the first to notice as Zoey collapsed onto the parking lot. “ZOEY!” he yelled out catching her before she hit her head onto the concrete.

Damian just stared. He knew everything..everything that nobody else knew but him and Dominik. He had to find Randy.

For his sister,for his brother,and for Zoey.

dt: @dmysterioblog @blessrhea @supartt @thetimetravler2000

creds: @cafekitsune @bexsbelts

#wwe #rhea ripley #dominik mysterio #judgement day #damien priest #finn balor #wrestling #zoey stark #roman reigns #wwe angst

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bipolarerrepi · 1 year ago

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7/18/2023

I got less than 8 hours of sleep but woke up energized. Had a near panic attack when the vanpool lady called to come pick me up. She kept telling me I didn’t need to rush but I panicked and rushed anyways. She said she felt bad. My heart rate was high.

I ate as normal.

In group therapy, elevated heart rate. I spoke to some folks in between and got slightly triggered, thinking they were attacking me or misinterpreting my words. I dissociated slightly in my rebuttal, watching my mouth run on instead of talking about something else I wanted to talk about.

A lot of suicidal ideation. Mostly of external forces killing me. I didn’t daydream for a calm death. At this point, pain is nearly a welcome addition. Visions of my group therapy mates beating me with chairs. Me melting away. Me being buried under dirt. Mauled by bears. Shot. Run over. Hit by a train. I mentioned it to the therapist/caseworker. She was very kind. Told me if I felt I needed to be hospitalized to let her know. Said I might since this sort of mania is getting close to the last time I tried to kill myself. Vivian mentioned drugs shouldn’t take effect until a month later.

Final group was me finally checking in. I did not want to but Vivian encouraged it. The entire time, I think I kept scratching my neck, I sort of noticed. I mostly noticed on the vanpool back home that my neck was hurting and vaguely recalled it. Will ask for more clarification tomorrow.

In group, I spoke about how this was a new diagnosis for me. How I felt lost and confused about what to do. How I had quit my last therapist because she kept pushing me to forgive my stepmom and it triggered me so I quit. How it felt to constantly be pounded with incessant thoughts of suicide. How it was presently one every 10 minutes, and during my last attempt, not even a break in between. But I got angry. Saying how I didn’t want to be a saint. I didn’t want to forgive my abuser. I wanted a chance to be angry and suicidal ideations were almost an escapist fantasy for me back from when I was 3, where I was so stuck and couldn’t think of a way out, so all I could do was wish for death.

I couldn’t stop crying. Several others cried and the room was silent, for a meeting where it was supposed to be about journaling. I felt guilty. Byron spoke up, he was supposed to check in but didn’t, saying he didn’t feel like it now and was uncomfortable. Most likely everyone was dealing with their own demons unrelated to me but I couldn’t help but feel guilty all the same.

After journaling, I couldn’t stop crying, so I went to the bathroom and cried. Thought I was feeling better, went back to group and checked in with Hannah. Maybe all I needed was a breakdown.

Cried at home. It is 8pm. Still have tears.

Have moments of dissociation during the day. Once in group and once with Daniel. When my emotions get high, it’s like I lose control of myself and it scares me. What if I get reduced to that state? I started question if I was even human.

Called the 24/7 hotline for Kaiser. The person on the other line was very helpful, she recommended grounding techniques, which I haven’t practiced in a while since I was getting better. She mentioned she was gonna tell Dr. Hyon. I asked if journaling would be a good idea and she recommended it. As a way to keep track of mood changes and to let Dr. Hyon know.

My heart rate has been elevated all day.

Had another breakdown with Daniel where I just sobbed when he was showing me compassion. I got upset, dissociated again, said some cruel things to him.

About 3 counts of dissociation today. Small bouts. It’s scary.

Going to do a little back journaling.

7/13/2023

Got the risperidone. Started taking it that night. Had been on 100mg of Zoloft for 3 days at that point.

7/14/2023 - Friday

Was extremely unbalanced all day so I didn’t move around much. Also slept for most of it. Felt drowsy and sort of drunk/bouts of vertigo

7/15/2023 - Saturday

Day we went to boiling crab. I was feeling a lot better in terms of balance. Went out and did stuff, we went to boiling crab. I still felt manic. Easily irritable. Easily excited.

7/16/2023 - Sunday

Balance was good. Played video games all day. Elevated heart rate.

7/17/2023.- Monday

First day of PHP. Had the rambling. Had the elevated heart rate. Had the couldn’t shut my mouth and felt like I put my foot in my mouth. Had bouts of dissociation when talking but less so. Did not speak. Generally normal mood aside from elevated state.

To today where I seem easily pushed into a elevated mood state. Am I triggered? Am I getting triggered more easily because of mania? How do they interact? I need to meet with an individual therapist again. Do I go back to Danielle? I will try to email her.

Got sleepy from meds, went to bed. In a relatively good mood. Honestly, kind’ve giddy. Laughed and giggled a lot. Felt almost wrong. Ate as normal. Motivation came back.

Went from outright sobbing at Daniel to being giddy with him modding my steam deck over the span of, like, half an hour. I'm exhausted.

#bipolar 1 #journaling

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luckyshotwrites · 2 years ago

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Ch. 29 // The Morning Crew // Day 22

Contents (Warnings): Soft safe vore, post vore, a lot more character information, new character introductions, and further monster/magic explanations. (Honestly, the Life Festival is probably going to be 4 or 5 parts for day 1 and 2. THERE'S A LOT OF CHAOS AND LORE incoming).

Wordcount: 3350 (I might edit it in the morning if it's super bad).

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Alexander (Feelings October 5th)

The thought itself made him excited. He was overwhelmed, even after the part where she stopped and passed out. He didn’t understand what was going on, but it felt so satisfying to finally eat her again. His body yearned her for days, and he hated to think about it or admit it.

He could barely keep himself functional. He was far too tired and all he wanted to do was relax and enjoy her. I don't get it, why does it all feel so much more potent? Was she always like this? Why would I ever let anyone else get her?

As soon as the thought passed his mind, he had to fight it. She was his coworker, and overall, just a uniquely, ordinary human...yet in his current state, he was afraid even if he didn't have the extra hours, he might not have released her.

…

(Oct. 7th Friday)

His eyes blinked open, slightly illuminating the room with their glow. His body woke him up. He threw his right hand over and tapped on the nightstand until it got his phone. He tugged it from the charger as another wave of pressure pushed at his abdomen.

5:05 a.m., he read.

He slept a perfect night. He awoke now in a fetal position holding his enlarged gut. He tried to force his eyes shut again, come on, you’ve already made it this far. Two more hours bod- He felt the lurch at his throat and the contents of his stomach being squeezed.

He sprung out of bed, holding his hands over his mouth. He rushed to the bathroom and barely was able to drop down as his body expelled its passenger with a deluge of stomach goo and saliva.

She slipped onto the shower floor after he begrudgingly coughed her up. He huffed and huffed over her unconscious body. He slowly returned to his normal height too. Fuck.

Alexander got off his hands and let himself rest with his knees on the ground. He wiped away the excess drool with his palm. Her taste dwindled on his tongue and he gulped it back down. It's about all he could keep down as he had her inside him way too long.

He lifted up his trembling hand over her and he used some of his energy to get rid of the goo. Then he tucked his arms underneath her small form and picked her up.

All I needed was two more hours and we'd be leaving for work. He thought as he held her over the bed. But no. Now I have to deal with her and all this energy. He immediately dropped her onto it. She bounced once roughly and softly the second time, he heard her groan after. She was waking up.

…

Lynette

My eyes opened, and I groggily scanned over the room. This isn't... I panicked and tried to throw myself out of the bed.

“Shh,” Alexander put a finger over his lips as he looked back at me, grabbing shorts from his drawer. “I’m overcharged, so I’m going on a run, stay here, rest up, and I'll take you back around 7.”

I could see the glow in his eyes, I guess overcharged means how it sounds. “What time is it?”

“Around 5:10.”

“Can’t you take me back now?"

He shook his head after he got his workout gear, “I need to expend some energy or my bodies going to be too jittery to drive.”

Then don’t eat me. I thought but was too afraid to say. I already felt weird being in his room, on his bed, and seeing him half naked.

“I’ll call myself a stuber then.” I dug into my pocket.

Alexander lifted his hand to wave me off, then stopped in his tracks holding his clothes. He eyed me without his glasses. Can he even see well? “Ugh, you’ll come with me for my run, then I’ll take you back to the pizzeria after.”

“I need to take a shower-”

“You don’t need a shower, I already cleaned you.” Alexander groaned.

I held my argument. I couldn't tell if the look on his face was because of his lack of glasses, or the fact that he was annoyed. Why do they constantly keep coming after me? I need a break. I debated whether I should use my days off this weekend. My own thoughts defeated me. I can't use all my days off in tandem, then I'll have to suffer the rest of the year.

“I’ll tag along…”

He nodded and went to change in the bathroom.

I left his bed.

He slept with me inside him. I blenched and hunched over while clutching myself at the thought. I felt my stomach churn, and I pushed out of his room. And I'm in his house again. I looked toward his door and to my phone which I held to my chest. I wanted to leave, but after I took my first step and froze. The reminder about his complex dug into my head.

"...it’s split between humans and monsters, though we aren’t supposed to attack residents, if they come to our floor, then they’re fair game.~”

I took a deep breath, and tried to ease my nerves. My eyes scanned over everything and locked eyes with the shelves of games. Right, I forget he plays games too... I thought. I brought my attention to them instead of the fact that everything in his apartment was twice the size of normal.

After ten more minutes of examining his collection, I heard his voice.

“Hey, shorty.” He leaned out of the door rim to his room. “Not thinking of stealing my games are you?”

He at least seems in a better mood, “I should.” I attempted to jest back. “You do have so many games here.” I faced him.

My eyes fell to his abdomen. I tried to look at his face. I couldn't focus because I kept thinking of him opening his mouth again. I refused to meet his eyes.

"I like physical copies more than the digital ones." He admitted, coming closer.

Why am I so scared? I asked my brain, but I knew why. Alexander sometimes held a similar look to Mara and I couldn't help but imagine that's what he'd do to me. I'm being dumb, if he really was going to do anything he would have done it already...right? A part of me refused to agree.

He led me out the door and stayed close. I did see one other dude on his floor walking about.

He fiddled with his phone most of the walk so I didn't have to say anything or pay attention to him.

We ended up at the same place he took me with Mara too. It didn't help that he dated her. I associate them together.

A few others jogged the giant circle he was about too.

We got to a spot on the grass and he started to stretch. I sat down. What should I say? Should I say anything? What if he gets mad again?

“Why are you gawking at me?”

I shook my head and my thoughts fluttered away filling with embarrassment, “you’re the last person I’d gawk at…” I replied, staring at the green grass under my fingers, “I was thinking about something else and spaced out in your direction.”

Alexander scoffed, “uh-huh.” He got up and rotated his hips, “you’re a terrible liar.”

I flinched, “I'm nervous, okay!”

“Why?”

My eyes flew up, looking into his. I closed my own and my cheeks pouted with frustration. Then I dropped my head in defeat, “just enjoy your jog, Xander.”

He finished up, “fine...Stay here, if anyone talks to you, don’t respond and if someone tries to touch you, scream. Got it?”

“Y-yes."

“Good.” He said as he was off to jog.

…

Alexander

He jogged with music playing in his ears.

It's easier to be around her when I'm overcharged. He thought though a small part of himself still wanted to consume her again. What kind of human is she? Is it because I’m around her constantly? I’ve never been this attached before, have I? He couldn't recall a single moment where he felt it this strong.

He glanced at his arm as his phone buzzed in his pouch. He double tapped his earbud, it stopped his music and answered the call.

“Hello?”

Drake’s voice came out, “hey-oh-are you running? I hear a lot of wind.”

“Yeah.” Alexander replied.

“Are you running with Lynette for extra weight?”

Alexander thought, it’d be a good workout. He wished he could. Unfortunately, he was far too out of it last night and didn't even play any videogames as he wanted. He simply got home and knocked out.

“No, I let her out forty minutes ago, because I got overcharged…”

“Told ya,”

“Shut up," Alexander then smiled, "I lasted about ten hours though, a new record.” Alexander boasted, although he was still ashamed he had a limit unlike most monsters.

“I bet she really regrets making that deal with you over the journal.” Drake replied, “and before I forget I wanted to tell you to bring-”

“I didn’t tell you what our deal was over.” Alexander narrowed his brows. “How did you know about the journal?”

Drake’s end went quiet.

“Drake! She told you-DID SHE TELL YOU WHAT WAS IN IT?!” Alexander felt peeved that he’d know over him. Did she tell him and he never told me? That asshole!

“Can’t we go back to the switch stuff-”

“DRAKE!”

Drake hung up and Alexander took his phone out of the pouch and tried recalling, then texting him. Drake didn’t answer either. He couldn’t even ask Lynette given their deal. FUCK. How could she tell- He exclaimed out, pushing himself ahead. He had to stay quiet so decided to let him tire himself out enough so he didn't threaten Lynette when he got to her again.

…

Lynette

Seeing Alexander run made me stretch. I felt I needed to do something to be productive. And after that I checked over my messages.

Wicks: Are you having fun? You should take pictures and send them to me! 9:00 p.m. October 5th

Lynette: I didn’t take any pictures last night. I’ll take some today and I was wrong, we're actually staying another night. 5:58 a.m. October 6th

It didn’t take long for my phone to ring. I answered it.

“He-”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUR STAYING ANOTHER NIGHT, LYNETTE!” Wicks' tone rose with worry.

“I thought Saturday was optional…” I muttered. “I’m so-”

“Is there someone else, TELL ME LENTILS! DID SOMEONE TAKE MY SISTERS-”

“No!” I exclaimed back in a hushed tone. “I’m…fine. I’m okay.” It felt like I had to reassure myself. “I would tell you if I started dating anyone.” I assured him.

He grumbled over the receiver with a heavy sigh, “I EXPECT PICTURES TODAY.”

“I’ll take them, and call you tonight before bed.”

“You better.” He said. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” I said as we hung up and Alexander’s voice panged from ahead.

“You don’t have to tell anyone anything, you know that right?”

I perked up and looked at him.

“It’s-” I grumbled, “I feel bad and like I need to say something to him.”

Alexander shrugged, he started to do some more exercises, “he would have thought you were there with him.”

I slumped down into a criss-cross applesauce position on the ground. Not answering. How can he act so casual with any of this? I glanced at him for a moment then looked away again. I don’t get how they think any of this is normal, and how he could even talk to me after what he’s done. I got frustrated thinking about it. I would remind myself of the money, but it seemed so far away.

“Ready to go, or what?”

I looked up as he stood over me, his eyes weren’t glowing anymore. I kept my throat from letting out a squeak. He’s so tall. It never bothered me that others were taller than me, until I met him. Now I assumed anyone taller than me could be a monster.

I crawled a bit away before I got up. “I’ve been ready.”

It was quiet again. Neither of us really said anything to each other and I couldn’t decide if that made it worse or better. It was around 5:13 before we left, so…he has maybe nine hours or less left, so watch what I say, me.

…

He drove me back. I got in my car and went to the nearest coffee shop, got some food, a drink, and changed in the bathroom with the extra stuff I packed. I stayed at the shop until it was 7:40 and drove back to the pizzeria.

I was still desperate for a shower, but I lacked the time. I parked and felt uneasy. The amount of people scared me. It wasn’t just night shift and mid-shifters, it was the morning crew too. I’m the only human.

I held the steering wheel. I could drive away. I debated in my car for another minute or two, until I jolted at a knock to my window. I saw a car had parked next to me, a slick red, winking car.

Viola. I was relieved to see her. She backed up and allowed me to open my car door. I grabbed my duffle bag and left the safety of my vehicle.

“Morning…” She looked over my face. “You look worried.”

“N-nervous.” I uttered.

She patted my back. Her hand felt hefty with her muscle behind it. “It's fine, no ones gonna do anything to you. Everything’s relatively safe at the festival.”

I wanted to whimper out, promise? But I didn't need to lose my dignity.

She walked me toward the group, eagerly.

I didn’t know they all looked to know each other.

One guy near the building facing us pointed at my car, “Ha!” He punched Zilla in the arm. “The punch bug is back!” He had a similar white gray hair to her, and was a little taller, around the same height as Drake.

Zilla grumbled, rubbing her arm, “of course, Lynette, couldn’t you have parked it in MY view instead.”

“Uh-sorry…” I said.

He laughed.

“Whoa, wait, Alexander is this the human you brought here, she’s pretty!” A slender girl approached me. She started to touch my hair before I could protest.

Another boy next got the other side, “is this your real hair color?”

“Y-yeah, it is-” I lurched forward and nervously chuckled, flipping back to face the two.

Viola rolled her eyes, “she’s still new, guys.”

Alexander shook his head, “New. She’s been here long enough.”

I glared at him and at the same time decided he wasn’t worth it. I didn't see the rest of the cast, Lev, Edgar, Sandra, Tristan, or Drake.

Viola pointed at the slender one with long blonde hair that went to her hips, “that is Beatrice,” she gestured to the other male who grabbed my hair with cocoa powder brown hair, “June,” then to the male next to Zilla, “that’s Zilla’s fraternal twin brother, Zane…” She looked around, “over there’s Elliot.” There was a male sitting alone against the building. He slept and held his backpack to himself.

“And where’s…”

“RIGHT HERE!” She cooed, poking out from behind Viola.

Viola jumped and smirked, “Tila.”

“At your service!” She held out a hand to me. I felt a sense of relief with her. She’s shorter than me.

She was about an inch or two smaller and had greenish blue hair in pigtails.

“Nice to meet you all…?” I said hesitantly.

Beatrice kept motioning to me as she spoke to Alexander. Is that his sister or something too? I can't remember if Alexander had siblings.

I felt some grabby hands behind me.

“Morning! How did you sleep?!”

I looked back at Claudia. “Awful.”

Everyone started to make their own groups. Claudia took me in with the other male, June. He looked to be admiring my hair color and started to touch his own hair.

“Besides your night, aren’t you excited!!” Claudia whistled happily.

“More scared than anything.” I muttered. I noticed the boy now had the same tint as my own hair. He didn't take my hair did he!? I felt at my own strands like a maniac. “How-?”

He smiled, pressing at his glasses, “I can change my body.” He held up his hand and it changed skin tones. “It’s to help blend in as I’m pretty translucent otherwise.”

I raised a brow, “like a slime?”

He bounced up and down, “bingo!"

A dastardly snicker left Claudia's lips, “oh!" She nudged me with her elbow, "you wanna play a game, Lynette?”

“Game? Not while we’re-”

“It won’t interrupt the festival." She giggled, “I'll give you until Saturday night~”

I squinted at her, “and if I refuse?”

Claudia put her hands up, though she wasn't scary even. However, when I imagined her form with her “I’ll get ya!” she was far more threatening.

I exhaled, "what’s the game?”

“Guess what everyone is! You already know the night crew, and now June. But I bet ya can’t guess everyone else. Or me!” She laughed evilly, then abruptly stopped, “unless you already do know what I am?”

I opened my mouth to say it but was perplexed, “uh-I don't actually…”

Claudia rubbed her hands together, “excellent.”

I didn't understand how I was always too distracted to notice him. Lev said hello to the others, but steered to bother me once we locked eyes. “Hey, Lynette~”

“Morning.” I replied.

Lev poked at my cheek, “how was your fun with Wendie?”

I felt Alexander’s gaze beam on us. “YOU call me that again, and you’re dead!”

Lev laughed, “what, Zilla calls you that all the time. I thought you loved it.”

Zilla chuckled, “he does.~”

Alexander growled at the two of them. “None of the managers are here, so there’s no viable witnesses.”

Zilla’s brother, Zane cheered, “I’d love to see a big cage match with you guys!”

Everyone looked ready. Especially Alexander. I thought he might suplex them. I really hoped he did so I wouldn't have to worry about any of them. In a prefect world, Lev, Zilla, and Alexander take each other out of work for a while.

“If we had to bet, who would win?” Tila asked us, as her and Viola joined our group near the Pizzeria back wall.

“Zilla.” Viola said without hesitation.

“Hmm,” June took off his glasses, “Alexander has a higher magic threshold, plus if he goes full wendigo-”

“Lev’s a dragon, don’t forget.” Tila mentioned.

“Right.” Viola and June said in tandem.

“Who do you think, Lynette?” Tila asked.

I shrugged, “I don’t know enough about any of them, but going with who scares me the most…” I narrowed down, “Lev or Alexander?”

“Alexander would win. Wendigos are incredibly hard to hurt or kill in their actual form like their counterparts.” The once sleeping male interjected. I forgot he was near us. “And if Alexander had the chance, he’d be able to keep them from changing to their actual forms faster than Zilla.”

“Oh, right, I always forget about the concert incident.” Viola said.

“Con-”

The pizzeria back door blew open. Everyone turned to it and the owner shouted at us.

“OKAY EVERYONE, OUR WAY IS CONNECTED! GET YOUR BAGS AND LETS START TO PILE OVER!”

Viola pushed me ahead toward the door as the others got their stuff together. She moved me near Alexander.

“Now take care of her, Wendie.” She teased.

Alexander grumbled, “I’ll take you on too, Viola.” He then looked over at me as we went toward the swirling, bluish vortex. “And if you ever call me that, shrimp," his voice tightened with his threat, "you forfeit your freedom.”

I whimpered out in terror. “y-ye-yes sir…”

…

Thank you for reading! :D Have a gouda day! (Nonnegotiable, if you're lactose intolerant, you're about to be in a lot of pain, sorry. Lol).

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#vore story #vore writing #soft vore #soft vore writing #post vore #widfali #v.0re #v.ore #v/0re #v/ore

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guideoftime · 26 days ago

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@dutifulsilence ;; Sheik & Link. Timeline: stolen moments in the library (AKA) a panicked Sheikah

The library is rather quiet today, and usually in general it tends to be, but even today he didn’t have any of the soldiers flickering through or nailing things on the wall. The constant sound of construction for days on end was something that can gnaw on even Sheik’s nerves. Not that it took a lot to do that really, he enjoyed and sought the quiet, something to ease the tension in his body. Kakariko was a rather quiet village, even with the kids running through, but especially where Sheik’s house was. He just likes it that way, it lets him think and focus.

The bookshelves are still a work in progress for being repaired, but the library (aside from the stairs) has actually survived better than most of Hyrule in general. Clearing the gloom from the books was the hardest thing to do, finding what affected what remained of it and scraping it off wasn’t an easy task. Doing that to bookshelves without damaging the rotting wood was actually the hardest thing Sheik’s had to study in a long time.

Gloom has a weird affect, he’s learned, and he’s actually asked Purah and Robbie for their help in figuring this out but they’re so busy with other things his Aunt and Uncle had more or less just shrugged at him and promised to try. It was the best he could hope for, he knows the Sheikah in general are quite busy but especially those two. It was just the nature of his tribe, to answer the moment that their help is asked for. Sheik probably took what was the least important and easiest of jobs, at least in everyone else's eyes.

Right now he would like to scream.

It’s touching him, and he makes a face of revolt as he shakes his hand quickly to try and knock the gloom off of him. It seems distinctly less dangerous without Calamity Ganon around though it does still burn his skin. The gunk lands somewhere on the ground near him and he sighs, looking at his red fingers now that were welting slightly. Great. He did bring a jar of salve with him and that he could apply to the burns from that stuff. Shaking his head he dropped his hand back down and looked to the bookshelf he was trying to clean off.

“Should have asked someone else for help.” He mutters to himself, reaching for another book on the shelf and pulling it down into his arms. He looked to the cover and hummed slightly to himself as he heard the crack of one of the library doors below him. Blinking slightly he tucked the book against his chest and moved over toward the railing, peering slightly over it to look downward. The splash of blue, the sword he’s only seen in books or from a great distance. Sheik startles slightly and the book he was holding nearly tumbles from his hands, he grips it tighter before it can.

That was the Hero. He frequented Kakariko Village a lot when running around to help them. Always so quick, so passing. Sheik saw brief flashes of him, brief moments of him being there before he was gone again as quickly as he came. It always seemed like they were just seconds from passing each other, but he was always in such a rush and Sheik was busy trying to help everyone else. Protecting the village and the travels on the road passing Kakariko. Impa had said he was floating through, that he was busy and the most they could do was point him in a direction and keep him on track. Eventually, she had said, he would find himself.

Sheik would have loved to tell her having amnesia and being lost were two very different things, but you don’t argue with the Tribe Leader.

He’s very glad Paya got forced that title.

What is the Hero doing here now though? The library was still very much a work in progress. Sheik was struggling with the gloom and the books were slowly being repaired as much as he could. It’s not exactly an easy task and only one person, him, was dealing with this. It’s a big library.

The Hero doesn’t appear to be here to judge his handiwork through. Sheik leans back slightly and then actively ducks away when he sees the man go to look up. He’s on the ground now, the book having fallen from his hands and his heart pounding in his chest. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous, why his heart is racing in his chest. He curses himself quietly for overreacting and then picks the book up he dropped, climbing back to his feet and intently moving along the path of the library toward the table he had the soldiers set up so he could use.

He sets the book down and flips it open to get to work attempting to repair, archive, and register.

He’s back.

Does he like books? That’s the first thing Sheik can think when he sees the door open and the Hero slips inside again. He’s actually on the first floor this time, the door to the King’s study open as he’s cleaning it out. Sheik had peeked around the edge of the study, noting the Hero and then where he was walking toward. He watches him move over toward one of the bookshelves and then pull a large one down from it. Sheik hadn’t been over there yet, he doesn’t know what sort of subject is interesting to the Hero.

He hadn’t paid any attention to him last time after the initial observation of him. He didn’t know what he was doing and then by the time he did look back down, the Hero had already been gone. How long, or what he had done, Sheik honestly had no idea. Today though, he can see where he went and what book he took down off of the shelf. Red covered, the text is in Hylian, but he can’t read it from all the way over here.

Most of the tables are covered in books, Sheik’s harp and bag is placed on one of the few clean spots, and he sees the Hero take a seat at that table. The book is adjusted in their hold, the Hero glances toward the harp and then when he looks up Sheik quickly tucks back inside the King’s study and plasters himself against the wall.

His heart is racing again, he takes in a sharp quick breath and again he doesn’t understand his own reaction. Why does the man make him so nervous? It’s not as if he’s going to bite, he isn’t going to demand Sheik leave him alone (probably), they haven’t even looked each other in the eyes or shared a single conversation. So why was he so nervous? Another breath is taken, he bites his bottom lip hard and then determinedly moves toward the King’s desk to begin collecting the books and papers on it for Princess Zelda like she asked.

The book that the Hero had been looking through last time was one on Hylian customs. Interesting. Sheik had found the book quite detailed and fascinating himself, and he wasted far too much time actually reading it than doing his job. Still, a break now and again is fine, he had been pushing himself hard to clean the library as much as he could. Sheik’s noticed a pattern too, the Hero goes a long time between visits and he has a feeling that’s because of the Princess. She’s rarely at the Castle herself, running around between Hyrule’s Tribes trying to talk to everyone and get their cooperation. With her, of course, is the Hero himself.

It makes sense, Sheik supplies in his brain. The Hero had already been to all of them and the bond he formed through helping them was an incredible one. Of course, out of any person, the Hero would be needed the most to help her form those bonds between the people. Getting them to help Hyrule now, especially when they were still rebuilding themselves, was going to take quite a bit of negotiating. Though Sheik didn’t think it would be that hard. The Princess was already in a good light with all of them, really, for holding Calamity Ganon off for a hundred years. He thinks, personally, she overworries.

Sheik had noticed too that the Hero often looked tired and rundown when he visited the library. He looked like Sheik did when he spent days in a row cleaning the library instead of sleeping. He wonders if it’s stress, or if the Hero really wasn’t sleeping at all. He would really recommend that he gets some rest, or at least takes a potion to try and replenish his energies. There’s quite a good number of potions Sheik had read about that does that, and even tea would help with the stress of what he was having to deal with honestly.

That book was on the second floor, actually.

It’s really a month before he gets word that the Princess was back in the Castle. Sheik had, in that time, studied far more potion books than he had any of the other books. On the bright side, that bookshelf was now entirely clean. On the downside, it’s the only progress he had made. But there’s a potion he had been carrying around in his bag for weeks now, heavy and insulting him. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, it wasn’t as if the Hero had asked for his help or even was aware of Sheik’s presence. He had wasted time he could have been using to research books that would actually help them improve Hyrule.

He hates himself. Overthinking and over worrying for someone who only visits the library to take a few seconds to themself. Sheik really had no right butting into his business. He rubs his forehead and glares at the bag beside him before turning his head away. There’s guards outside the library this time, cleaning the hallway and he hears them whispering to each other about the Hero and Princess being back inside the Castle. He drops his hand to his side and swallows hard before looking toward his bag.

Damn him!

There’s Chamomile tea on the table, which is supposed to help with anxiety and then the brightly colored blue potion that Sheik had made. He can’t force himself to stay anywhere near where he can see the Hero, so he tied a string around the jar head with a little tag that said Hero on it and then promptly fled. Actually fled the library entirely, and hid in a tree outside it with his harp. It was the easiest way to deal with his embarrassment apparently, hiding.

He gives it an hour, maybe two, but when he does see the Hero on the second level of the Castle at the Princess’s side again he gives a small hum. From a distance he looks alright, listening to the Princess ramble about whatever was on her mind. He didn’t look nearly as tense as the last time he saw him but that could have been for any reason. Sheik tucked his harp away and climbed down from the tree before returning to the library.

The tea cup is empty and the bottle is gone. His face and ears are burning.

#▴ — path / royal archivist #dutifulsilence #drabble;;

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dragonsruby · 1 year ago

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"You wouldn't respond!" Aladdin shrugged dramatically, hoping the sarcasm was present enough to be registered. After Mozenrath tried to drown him in sand, Aladdin could certainly return the favor by being petty. Mozenrath brought that upon himself. Maybe Al's first act as a brother could be teaching Mozenrath to not attract attention when making a plan. Not that it would detract from the mess that this whole thing was.

Aladdin assumed from the sorcerer feeling at his own hair that the sudden arrival wasn't the only thing that Mozenrath hadn't planned out before attempting to leave. Aladdin hadn't even heard any signs of Xerxes around. That could be a sign of Mozenrath just being addle-brained, or it could mean that the worst had already happened. What had already happened to scare the necromancer so much?

Mozenrath's history of father figures put Aladdin in no real rush to reunite his biological relatives, and Cassim's history of reckless fascination around the rare and unusual gave Aladdin the same feeling over him. Still, Mozenrath's comment was not one Aladdin was willing to ignore.

"He was the king, maybe even longer-" He stopped himself before saying 'than you ever have,' as the blisters already stung enough as they were. The words probably were lost on him, anyway. "And you need help more than you need your pride if this is anything to go by. Besides-" Al took a breath, trying to calm down before continuing the topic. "-he's my father as well. And Iago will be too scared of you and Destane to keep quiet about it, so they'll have to help."

He meant that in a slightly sarcastic manner, but it could be a genuine method they could use to track down their father. Whether Mozenrath was speaking the truth or not, word of Destane returning would undoubtedly spread by mouth across any country that could be affected. If his father did still have the loudmouth parrot as a traveling companion, then it would only be a matter of time before they could follow the trail of shrill and panicked second-hand complaints to find its source.

"We can drop you off at Odif-" Aladdin decided not to finish that sentence at the shade of green that Mozenrath was turning, as well as the thought that the spirit of Destane or whatever could be listening in to their argument. "We can drop you off someplace while we get ready. Get some allies on our side and see if Father- if my father replies at any point. Destane will be looking for magic, so we get you out of the line of fire and try to get us at some advantage."

It wouldn't register to Aladdin for some time just how odd it was to hear Mozenrath speak in such a way. There was a clear question for his opinion, along with him sharing a bit more that they didn't know. Al had barely heard any of his villains speak in such a way, which likely said something about the severity of the situation. That didn't register to Aladdin in the moment. Actually, only one part of that really registered.

If nothing else, they had both grown up alone.

Aladdin paused once again, reaching out and holding onto one of Carpet's more singed corners. He prayed that there would be enough strength to get him out of the area, at least, but even if Carpet could carry one or more at this time…

Al looked back to Mozenrath. "I don't suppose you'd accept a ride, would you?"

"...So, yeah, I… left him alone." Al winced, half from his blisters and half in fear of Jasmine smacking him over the head. "I know it was stupid. I know it was. I didn't know what else to do."

Al had at least gotten back to Agrabah's borders, where he and Carpet were promptly scooped up by the djinn in medical attire and carried back through a window of the palace. He was sure that it was a sight for the guards to witness, especially as he called for them to maybe be on the lookout for some sorcerer that probably wasn't Mozenrath. Keep his weird reputation intact.

Genie had instantly gotten to work replacing Carpet's singed threads, muttering about "The youth these days" while his hands moved at a speed that Aladdin couldn't comprehend. It was a bit of a nice distraction to watch while he recounted everything he could to Jasmine, wincing every few moments at either the pain of the blisters or the lunacy of what he was talking about.

"I didn't know what to do. I didn't think I should bring him here, and he didn't want to, but- I don't know, I didn't know what to do."

Aladdin winced again, watching the magic carpet get draped over absolutely nothing in the air. "I don't think he was lying. It was… bad. He was throwing up on himself from crying so much. He was on the ground in front of me! I don't think that he would stoop that low just to trick us."

Al looked back at Jasmine, waiting for her to beat him over the head for inviting the sorcerer over. "I don't know if Mozenrath is actually coming, but if Destane is, then would we have what we need to take care of that?"

It’s been exactly two months since the revelation was broken to Aladdin, though Mozenrath wasn’t surprised. In all honesty, he didn’t have the time to think about being wrong about the ritual’s supposed false positive. Not when he needed to get out of there.

His bedroom was ransacked, mirrors and glass shattered with broken shards imbedded into the lush carpet. Scorch marks singed into the dark wallpaper that was still fresh enough to have a burnt smell. Draws thrown about happharzardly, the wood broken amongst itself. He could feel his paranoia heighten even then, making him skittish, causing him to jump at every noise he wasn’t responsible for even while packing. Though he wasn’t sure if he heard them, or if he thought he did.

His turban was off, placed on his bed with the sheets and blankets pulled up. He was about to leave, his bags already packed, ready and waiting to be summoned forth once he reached his destination. He set off in a hurry, forgetting his headdress. That was until he ran into the second to last person he never wanted to see again. “Oh, it’s you…” he sighed exasperatedly, his gauntleted hand reaching for his temple. “What do you want?”

@dragonsruby

#rp #roleplay

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years ago

Text

Another Warlock?

Leon cries a lot, Merlin is protective, and Arthur has to confront the cruelty of his Kingdom’s justice system.

To say that Gaius was surprised when Sir Leon burst into the Physician’s chambers late one evening, pale and sweaty and shaking, one hand shielding his eyes and one hand supporting himself on the door frame, would be a VAST understatement.

He goes to rush forward, not able to recall a single time he’s ever seen the normally incredibly put together man look so shaken, but the way Leon almost falls back in his effort to keep his distance stops him in his tracks.

His breathing is deep and dangerously fast, but before Gaius can call for help or demand the knight tell him what’s wrong, his voice comes out, rushed and cracking and desperate:

“Merlin?? Gaius, where’s Merlin, I... I need Merlin.”

In his shock, both at Leon’s whole terrified demeanour, and the tears he can now see dripping down the other man’s cheeks, he answers without thinking:

“At this time he’ll be in The King’s chambers. My boy are you sure there’s nothing I can-”

Before the physician can finish, Leon bolts from the room, the door swinging shut behind him as he stumbles his way down the corridor as quickly as he can, thinking of nothing but how much he needs Merlin.

His brain fails to make the connection between “The King’s chambers” and “Arthur”, and the knight sprints through the halls, bruising shoulders and elbows on doorframes as his sight is blurred by tears and a shaking hand.

Gaius considers following to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself, but the man is very private, the type to never share his troubles. The physician decides to check in on Arthur’s chambers in a candle mark or so, just to make sure that no one needs any treatment or enforced bedrest; he settles back onto the bench, resuming his previous task with half his mind focused on how terrified Sir Leon had looked, and trying not to worry too much.

Arthur was sat at his desk, forehead resting on his hand as he tried to force himself into reading just one more page of the month’s food inventory report. It was boring stuff, but he was King, this had to be done. Uther had never bothered, but Arthur’s head had been filled with ideas on how to better redistribute food since long before he became King, so he never gave up an opportunity to double-check the reports.

Merlin was settled at his dining table across the room, carefully polishing each of Arthur’s many blades. His sword was the first to be done, but Arthur had rather pettily demanded that Merlin also see to the various daggers and knives that The King usually kept hidden around his room, despite the fact that none of the had been used in the three months since Merlin had last cleaned them.

Frankly, Arthur had started to find Merlin’s quiet grumbling a pleasant background noise; he always seemed to be able to concentrate better when in the other man’s presence. Despite Arthur’s boredom and headache, and Merlin’s exhaustion and aching hands, there’s nowhere else either of them would rather be.

The King had just about given up on getting anymore work done; it was late, and he had to give in to the idea that his headache was only going to get worse, so he organised the papers into rough piles on the desk and lent back in his chair, hands folded in his lap as he blinks up at the ceiling. He looks down just in time to make eye contact with Merlin, and he returns the man’s soft smile before he can stop himself.

Merlin raises an eyebrow, almost certainly about to say something scathing about Arthur’s Kingly Mask slipping in the evening, but before he can utter even a word, the main door slams open with a crash, bouncing off the wall loudly.

Arthur stands quickly, tensing when he realises that the sword normally hidden under his desk is currently on the other side of the room with Merlin. The servant already has a dagger expertly held in one of his hands as he moves around the table to see who had burst in, and Arthur makes a mental note to make sure Merlin knows how to use it properly at later date.

The King goes to rush around the desk, but a sharp intake of breath from Merlin as he drops the knife on the table and holds a firm hand out to him, undoubtedly telling him to stay where he is, stops him in his tracks. Arthur trusts Merlin, despite not being able to see whoever it was that had practically broken the door down.

Arthur blinks in surprise when he sees an unarmoured Leon stumble round the corner, hand over his eyes and shaking as he calls Merlin’s name, his voice cracking as tears stream down his pale cheeks. Arthur gulps and goes to move towards him, but finds himself frozen when Leon collapses to his knees, both hands now clamped tightly over his eyes as his sobs become audible. Merlin rushes to him, falling to the floor in front of the knight and taking his wrists in soft hands, not even bothering to look to Arthur as he focuses all of his attention on the distraught man.

“Leon? Leon you need to tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Arthur marvels at the way Merlin’s voice wavers only slightly, though quickly reminds himself that the now fully-fledged physician was used to dealing with panicking patients, it’s just Leon that he’s not used to panicking.

Leon’s breathing is deep and uneven, and Merlin moves one of his hands to the back of the knight’s head as he stutters out a frantic:

“Merlin, I... please- I need help... please make it stop, I don’t- I don’t know how to make it stop, please.”

Merlin frowns, trying to calm his own breathing as he runs his desperate gaze over the knight’s body, trying to figure out what was wrong, but it’s Arthur’s sharp gasp and muttered "what the fuck...” that has him look up.

What he sees makes it decidedly harder to keep calm.

The pillow that Arthur had thrown at him that morning was floating a few feet off the ground, as was a vase of flowers by the (thankfully swung shut) door. The flames in the lit hearth were colourful and jumping, filling with odd shapes and seeming to shiver in time with Leon’s panicked wheezing, and the curtains were shaking in a wind that wasn’t there.

Merlin gulps and curses to himself quietly before looking back down to Leon, grabbing his wrists and trying to pry his hands away from his eyes:

“Leon, I need you to look at me. Everything’s going to be ok, but I need you to look at me right now.”

Arthur is still frozen in place, hand twitching by his hip as he subconsciously reaches for his absent sword.

Merlin still ignores him, rubbing his thumbs over Leon’s wrists softly as he carefully pulls his hands forward. Leon finally gives in, letting Merlin hold his hands close to his chest, shutting his eyes tightly and struggling to draw breath:

“Open your eyes, Leon. I promise that you're safe, ok? I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you, but I need to see.”

Leon shakes his head slightly and whimpers, and Merlin glances over the knight’s shoulder as a loud pop sounds from the fire. The servant moves one of his hands back to Leon’s hair, stroking slightly as he asks him to open his eyes again, trying to keep his voice soft even in his panic. The older man finally complies, and Merlin clenches his jaw to stop himself from gasping at the gold of Leon’s irises.

Merlin glances behind him briefly, but is grateful to see Arthur’s bewildered gaze focused on the floating pillow rather than Leon, and looks back to him with a soft smile on his face, laying the knight’s hand flat over his chest as he speaks:

“I need you to calm down, ok? Everything’s going to be ok, there’s nothing wrong with you, and I won’t let anyone come anywhere near you. We’ll figure it out, but I need you to take deep breaths ok? Can you manage that?-”

Leon nods slightly, leaning forward and pressing his hand into Merlin’s chest as he pushes his forehead into the servant’s shoulder. His breathing slows slightly, and Merlin is grateful to feel the hitches in his breath grow less erratic:

“-That’s it, just one breath after another, ok? You’re absolutely fine, Leon, I’ll keep you safe, just breathe.”

It takes a few minutes of Merlin’s soft words and quiet encouragement, but he’s grateful to see the fire die down to a normal size, the curtains stilling, and everything that had been floating drop to the floor. He’s relieved when the vase lands softly, knowing that a loud crash at this point would probably just set the shaking knight off again.

Though he definitely tenses at Arthur’s outburst:

“What the fuck?!”

Leon falls back onto his hands, scrambling back and staring in terror over Merlin’s shoulder towards the befuddled King. Arthur recoils slightly at the fear on Leon's face, but before he can react, Merlin jumps up, leaping forward to grab Arthur’s sword from the table and twirling it expertly in his hand as he moves in to a defensive position in front of Leon’s still-cowering form:

“I won’t let you hurt him, Arthur. You'd have to kill me before I let you lay a hand on him.”

Leon stands on shaky legs, desperate to stop Merlin from putting himself in any danger, but his fear stops him from doing anything other than grip the back of the servant’s tunic in shivering hands. Arthur just looks even more confused, his wide-eyed stare moving between the terrified knight and angry servant:

“What are you talking about?? Will one of you please tell me what just happened?!”

Leon sniffles quietly, tugging on Merlin’s shirt lightly, but Merlin just holds a hand out to the side, gesturing for Leon to stay behind him and keep quiet as he strengthens the grip on his sword:

“It would seem, Sire, that Leon was born with a touch of magic, and it’s just made its first appearance. Like I said, You’d have to kill me before I let you hurt him just for existing.”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath and Leon whimpers slightly, but Merlin just squares his shoulders even more and adjusts his grip, glancing to the other weapons on the table. He knows he probably couldn’t take Arthur in a swordfight, but he rapidly comes to the conclusion that he would happily out his own magic if it was the only way to protect his friend.

Arthur holds his hands out placatingly, but doesn’t make any moves towards the table or Merlin and Leon, speaking slowly, despite the clear worry and suspicion in his voice:

“Merlin, you can’t be born with magic. So just explain what’s happening, the truth this time. If he’s been cursed or something, then we’ll fix it, no one’s going to hurt him.”

Merlin snarls slightly. Before, when Arthur’s backwards views and misunderstandings about magic had just affected him, it just made him sad. Now they were putting Leon in danger, doing nothing but making his friend even more scared, he found that they made him angry:

“With all due resect, Arthur, are you really going to trust whatever shit Uther told you about magic?? Has it never occurred to you that any and all information on sorcery in this Godforsaken Kingdom is censored, or just straight up wrong? I’m telling you, it is entirely possible to be born with magic.”

Arthur’s expression morphs to one of anger, and Leon pulls on Merlin’s tunic again, trying to get him to step back. The servant just reaches behind him, squeezing Leon’s wrist briefly and holding his position as Arthur grinds out:

“Magic is evil, Merlin, it corrupts.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes harshly, tightening his grip on the sword once again as he argues:

“Yeah? Well this magic has been inside Leon his entire life. Do you think it possible to be born evil? Do you think Leon was born evil? Do you think he’s been evil all his life and just not known it? Or do you think he suddenly, a few minutes ago when his magic first manifested itself, made the switch from good to evil? Look at him, Arthur,-”

Merlin steps to the side slightly, gesturing vaguely at an almost-hyperventilating, still-crying Leon behind him:

“-he’s fucking terrified because his head has been filled with lies and he thinks one of his closest friends is going to strap him to a pyre just for existing. At which point I feel the need to remind you that if you want to burn Leon, you’re going to have to burn me right alongside him.”

Leon’s teary eyes widen and he tugs on Merlin’s shirt again, his voice quiet and cracking:

“Merlin, no, you can’t-”

Merlin shakes his head, not looking away from the shocked King as he strongly says:

“I can, and I will. I promised you I would keep you safe, and that’s what I intend to do. I think it’s time Arthur learns the truth.”

Arthur is taken aback at Merlin’s protectiveness at first, but quickly bristles at his words, tensing and narrowing his eyes as he says:

“And how would you know all about magic, Merlin, you’ve never seemed to take an interest in it before, never bothered correcting me before.”

Merlin looks at The King like he’s an idiot, eyebrows raised and mouth open, freezing like that for a moment of two before he speaks incredulously:

“Are you serious?? I grew up outside of Camelot, where accurate information about magic is far more readily available. I know a hell of a lot more about sorcery than you, I just don’t talk about it because your head is full of lies and you’re a stubborn prat.”

Arthur takes in a deep breath, his face falling into a worrying mix of confusion and sadness. His eyes dart around slightly and his hands twitch as he thinks, obviously trying to come to some sort of conclusion that makes sense in his head.

He looks up suddenly, freezing once again as he stares at Leon, only just now seeming to notice how terrified he looks. How terrified Leon, the only swordsman Arthur has ever met who can consistently beat him, one of his closest friends and most trust advisors, a man seven years his senior who had always supported him and offered advice... how terrified that man looks. Of Arthur.

Merlin relaxes his posture slightly, lowering the sword as he stares at Arthur with a slight suspicious frown on his face. Leon breaks Arthur’s stare, gaze darting to the weapons on the table before he glances briefly to the door.

Arthur’s face falls even further, looking just a tad horrified that Leon thought Arthur was going to attack him, that Leon though he might have to make a run for it. The King finally looks over to Merlin, his eyes wide and tears gathering as he takes a staggered step back, his voice barely above a whisper:

“How... how was my father so....”

His words trail off and Merlin lowers his sword fully, letting out a gentle huff of air as he raises a mournful eyebrow:

“Wrong?”

Arthur nods, and Merlin takes in a deep breath, sighing as he tries to decide just how truthful to be:

“Magic... magic killed his wife. He ignored the warnings, didn’t consider the consequences, and was blinded by fear and hatred and a need for revenge, a need for someone to blame.”

Leon takes in a surprised breath at the same time as Arthur, and The King takes another step back, leaning tiredly against his desk as he stares at the floor, muttering:

“The apparition of my mother was real, then?”

Merlin shakes his head, taking a step towards him but still keeping his distance, hyper aware of Leon still stood behind him:

“I don’t know whether the apparition was real or fake, but it... it was telling the truth, I think.”

Arthur nods absent-mindedly, frowning at his feet for a few moments, the silence heavy and tense on everyone’s shoulders. Merlin can’t help but feel a spark of hope in his chest; was this it?? Was this when things changed?

The King looks up again, hands clenched tightly and tears still gathering in his eyes as he stares at Merlin:

“Merlin... how many- if people can be born with magic, if it isn’t actually evil, if it just... is, how many... how many innocent people have died, have been hunted, burned?-”

Arthur takes a few steps towards his friends, letting out an incredulous, almost manic laugh as he runs his hands through his hair roughly:

“-How many innocent people have I killed, just for existing?”

Merlin sighs and shakes his head, finally dropping the sword back onto the table and closing the gap between the two of them, putting a strong hand on The King’s shoulder:

“You can’t think like that, Arthur, you were just following orders, you didn’t know any better.”

Arthur meets Merlin’s gaze, rapidly blinking away the tears as he mumbles:

“You managed, Leon evidently managed.”

Merlin frowns again and shakes his head, looking back to Leon in confusion:

“Hmm. I grew up outside of Camelot, remember. Leon however... the magic inside Witches and Warlocks tends to manifest in the teen years. I mean, it can happen earlier or later, but you’re, what? Thirty?”

Leon gives him a weak smile and raises an eyebrow:

“Thirty-five.”

Merlin’s frown just deepens as he looks Leon up and down. The knight drops his smile and gulps, not understanding the problem as Arthur sidesteps the servant:

“Witches and Warlocks?”

Merlin hums absent-mindedly, still staring at Leon:

“People with natural, instinctive magic. Sorcerers and sorceresses are people who study it, they’re taught it from scratch, like you were taught how to use a sword. Witches and Warlocks are born with an innate ability.”

Arthur nods, but finally notices Merlin’s confused stare and Leon’s uneasy frown:

“What is it, Merlin? Is Leon... ok?”

Merlin shakes himself out of his stupor, blinking in surprise and looking between the two concerned men:

“Oh! Yeah, I’m just... why now?? For your first outburst, that was pretty weak, especially considering how freaked out you were, so you obviously don’t have all that much natural magic, so why did it take an extra twenty years to make itself known?”

Leon just shrugs his shoulders slightly but Arthur blinks his eyes in surprise and steps away slightly:

“You really do know a lot about magic, don’t you?”

Merlin nods again, looking just a little embarrassed as he shrugs and runs a hand through his hair before turning back to Leon and pushing him to sit at the table. Merlin sits next to him, twisting in his chair slightly to face the still tense knight, and Arthur sits slowly opposite him, clearly waiting for some sort of explanation or... something.

Merlin continues to stare at Leon, evidently trying to figure something out, and he takes a deep breath before slowly mumbling:

“Something must’ve changed.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow, gesturing vaguely for Merlin to continue:

“I mean... magic has strict rules, even seemingly random instinctive magic works in specific ways. There has to be a reason that yours has suddenly decided to come out and play. So... what changed? Why did your magic stop hiding?”

Leon scoffs slightly and sits back in his chair, all of a sudden realising how tired he is but still being unable to untense:

“I... you talk about... magic, as if it’s sentient.”

Merlin smiles slightly, fondly almost:

“It is, in a way. Not so much for regular sorcerers, but for people with instinctive magic, you don’t... control it, you ask it, you work with it. It will react to your needs and wants and emotions, it’s part of you, but it’s also... separate. It will try and protect you and the people you care about, without you even realising sometimes. Maybe... maybe that’s what happened.”

Leon fiddles with his hands in his lap roughly, picking the skin at his nails as he gulps:

“What do you mean, maybe what happened?”

Merlin smiles, taking Leon’s hands in his own and raising a disapproving eyebrow at the blood just started to seep through old scabs:

“Maybe it was protecting you, keeping you safe. Held itself inside until... I don’t know, it was safer?”

Arthur finally pipes in then, interrupting Merlin’s verbalised stream of thought:

“But it wasn’t. Granted, I haven’t executed many people, but I’ve been King for years, and up until five minutes ago I was still under the impression that magic was evil.”

Merlin shook his head:

“No, not safety from you... safety from Leon.-”

Leon recoils slightly and Arthur frowns in confusion:

“-Something about you changed. Your... views on magic?”

Merlin tilts his head as he says it, obviously asking, and the knight bites his lip, gaze darting between the two men nervously. Arthur just gives him a smile and nods encouragingly. Leon shuffles in his seat uncomfortably, not making eye contact with either of them as he quietly speaks:

“A few months ago I... saw someone do magic, in the castle. I was angry at first, but it seemed so... innocent. It didn’t hurt anyone, it had no consequence, it was just... it looked natural.”

The knight finally looks up again and Merlin nods knowingly, making a mental note to find out who was stupid enough to use magic in the-

...

He notices the pointed way Leon is looking at him, and he scraps that mental note in favour of making a new one, reminding himself to thank Leon later for not immediately killing him.

Merlin bites his lip and Leon rolls his eyes slightly, but before either of them can say anything, Arthur leans across the table, patting Leon on the shoulder comfortingly before sitting back and nodding to himself. He clears his throat and bites his lip as the two of them look to him nervously:

“I’m... curious. Of all people.... why Merlin? You had no idea that he knew so much about magic, you discover that you have magic, and the first person you rush to, you trust, you believe will protect you in a Kingdom that would see you burn... is Merlin. Why?”

Leon gulps, his gaze darting to the young servant, and Merlin widens his eyes slightly before setting his face into well-practiced neutrality and looking back to Arthur:

“Well, like I said, I grew up outside of Camelot’s propaganda.”

Arthur tilts his head and furrows his brows:

“Yes... but so did Percival and Gwaine and Lancelot. And he grew up with Elyan and Gwen, so...”

Merlin clenches his jaw, his brain running through all the possible lies he could tell. Depending on how the rest of this conversation goes, now may or may not be the time to out his own magic:

“Well... look at me-”

He throws his arms up loosely:

“-I’m one of the only people he knows who couldn’t actually do much damage to him if I turned on him. He’s a Camelot Noble Arthur, pretty much all of his friends and family would run him through in an instant if they found out what was happening to him.”

Arthur frowns mournfully, but his nod is understanding as he stares at the table for a few moments. He squares his shoulders and looks up again, his voice strong and Kingly:

“We have some laws to revise. Tomorrow, the three of us are going to visit the Druids, we can leave Leon there for a little while so he can learn to control it at least. I’m sure we can come up with some sort of excuse.”

Leon nods, but Merlin takes a deep breath before shaking his head:

“That... that won’t be necessary.”

Arthur just frowns at him in confusion, but Leon’s eyes go wide as he stares at the servant, taking his wrist in a tight grip; a clear warning. Merlin just gives him a weak smile before sitting up straight and looking to Arthur, his face blank:

“I can teach him.”

Arthur just looks even more confused, before he huffs and rolls his eyes:

“Merlin you may have an odd amount of knowledge in that big head of yours, but it would still be better for someone who was born with magic like him to help.”

Merlin doesn’t even hesitate in his response:

“Exactly.”

Arthur looks up at him sharply, taking in a deep breath and straightening his back when he notices the gold of Merlin’s eyes. It takes him a few moments to respond, and Merlin’s eyes have faded back to their bright blue before Arthur sighs and nods, not looking away as he mumbles:

“I think... that somehow I should’ve expected that.-”

The King leans forwards and puts his head in his hands, leaning his elbows on the table; he lets out a short, humourless laugh, and Merlin and Leon share a worried glance. Before they can say anything, he looks up again, a disbelieving smile on his face:

“-I’m desperate to be angry, furious, even. But after everything I’ve said, done, directly to you and in general, I really don’t think I have the right.”

Merlin shakes his head, anxiety and guilt swelling in his stomach:

“No Arthur, I lied to you for over ten years, you’re allowed to be angry.”

Arthur shakes his head again, but before he can say anything, Leon pipes up, his voice strong and no longer cracking and shaking, despite his obvious nervousness:

“That... No. With all due respect, Sire, you’re right.-”

He turns to a dumbfounded Merlin:

“-You lied because it was the only way to protect yourself. By Camelot’s laws, you- both of us, should have had death sentences from the moment we were born. Lying to save yourself torture by pyre... that isn’t selfish, or cruel, it’s... justice.”

Merlin looks like he wants to argue, but Arthur just shrugs his shoulders and nods, giving his servant a pointed glare before going back to looking curiously confused, and settling an assessing gaze on Leon:

“Can you... feel it? The magic?”

Leon shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, and squeezes Merlin’s hand in his subconscious search for comfort:

“Uh... yeah sort of. Honestly, I’m trying not to, it... it scares me.”

Merlin squeezes back before swivelling in his seat and pulling Leon to do the same, so they’re sat facing each other; Arthur leans forward so he can see what Merlin was fiddling with. The servant cups his hands and rests them under Leon’s own cupped hands, looking up to the older man with a smile:

“It’s not something to be afraid of, Leon, it’s a gift. Let go, feel it. I promise I won’t let anything bad happen. Just... feel it.”

Leon gulps, but lets out a breath and relaxes as he closes his eyes. Merlin’s grin grows, and Arthur stares in wonder at the golden glow of his eyes, his gaze darting to Leon’s face when the man begins to softly smile. Merlin’s next words come out as barely a whisper:

“Open your eyes, look.”

Leon takes another deep breath before opening his golden eyes and looking down at his hands, letting out a surprised laugh when he sees a miniature blue flame, floating a few inches above his palms. He can feel it’s warmth, feel the new odd sensation in his chest feeding it, sparking down his arms and into the flame, mixing with something that feels so very... Merlin. He looks up at the grinning servant, not able to persuade himself to look towards the King even when he hears the other man mutter, his voice quiet and full of wonder:

“A gift indeed.”

THE END!!!

Ok so I might write a part 2 to this, basically about Merlin teaching Leon in secret (with Gwaine and Lancelot getting jealous because how the fuck did boring, rule following, 8 years older than him Leon end up becoming Merlin’s best friend??) and a visit to the Druids and a ban repeal and a proper reveal.

BUT it isn’t a definite, and if it does happen it won’t be any time soon, so I guess just consider this done?

I hope y’all enjoyed it!! Same as always, you wanna write it up, let me know and credit and tag me!! :D

759 notes · View notes

ptergwen · 3 years ago

Text

favorite crime

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood / death, lots n lots of angst

summary: you convince peter to go on the run after he’s framed for murdering mysterio, but he doesn’t want to drag you into his mess

a/n: this was completely based off the song by olivia lfmbsjfhs it’s so beautiful and i’ve wanted to write something for it for a while now so yee i hope y’all like ! pls lmk what you think <3

“we have to get you out of here, peter! come on!” you shout back to your boyfriend and tug his hand that’s laced with yours.

peter doesn’t budge. even when your grip on him tightens, when you pull him forward with all your might, he remains stoic.

there’s something he needs to do, and he’s been contemplating it since the day he met you.

it’s time to let you go.

“please, peter. i’m begging. i know you’re tired of running, but if we don’t leave now… they’ll find you,” you desperately choke out. peter squeezes his eyes shut, dreading what’s to come. “i can’t do this to you anymore, y/n. i… i’m sorry.”

emergency sirens and flashing lights approach the old apartment building serving as yours and peter’s latest hideout. the whole world is on the lookout for him, so you two stowed yourselves away in brooklyn for a bit.

you were hopeful the rumors would pass eventually — about how peter shot the beloved mysterio and left him to die in cold blood. they’re merely talk, of course. you’d personally seen the events of that day unfold on the tower bridge. hell, your class was right at the center of them.

quentin beck was pure evil, so rotten he defamed both peter and spider-man with a charge as cruel as murder. he’s wreaking havoc on him from beyond the grave, over a complete misunderstanding that peter had nothing to do with.

beck’s true source of anger is stark industries. yet, once again, peter ended up the collateral damage.

he was deemed a wanted murderer. posters revealing his name and face were plastered up around the city, a reward even being offered to whoever who turns him in.

you’d proposed the idea of skipping town until things settled. the way you saw it, it was peter’s only option other than prison for twenty-five to life. peter was panicking and couldn’t think straight, so he went along with your getaway plan.

a few weeks later, he’s regretting it.

you’ve been the one person he could trust through this madness. you’re right there to console him, to protect him just like he does you. through sickness and health, life and clearly death, you stick by peter’s side. you left everything behind without a second thought, for him.

peter loves you more than you’ll ever fully be able to comprehend, which is why he can’t ask you to do that. this is his battle to fight, not yours or anyone else’s. his.

you suddenly freeze in your tracks, turning around to look at peter. “what are you talking about? you’re fine, pete.”

his eyes roam everywhere except to yours as they water. blinking back tears, he fixes his gaze on your intertwined hands. you notice a stray tear fall down his cheek and use one of your thumbs to wipe it away, then press a reassuring kiss to his lips. peter lets himself reciprocate momentarily before jerking back.

“please just… stop being so nice to me. you’re making this way harder than i wanted to to be,” he rasps and squeezes your hand tighter. you’re still lost, absolutely clueless about what he’s referring to.

“look, pete. i wanna hear you out, baby. but… i think it should wait until we get to jersey.” you keep your voice as calm as possible, though you’re terrified for both of you. since the feds know your location, they’ll have the place surrounded any minute.

hopping cities isn’t cutting it anymore, so you’ll have to change states this time. new jersey is next on your list.

using his strength to his advantage to hold you in place, peter seizes both your shoulders. his bloodshot eyes lock with yours. a stern expression coats his features, one you’ve seen from him yet never been on the receiving end of.

“we’re not going to jersey, y/n/n,” he declares, the sirens starting to grow louder. you feel a pit forming in your stomach. “we have to!” you immediately protest. “it’s not gonna be easy finding our way, but it’s the last-“

peter cuts you off, voice softer now. “no, no. that’s not what i meant.” he waits a beat and inhales a deep breath, aiming to settle his nerves. it doesn’t.

“i’m going to jersey. you’re staying.”

tears cloud your vision the second those words leave his mouth. you shake your head furiously back and forth, willing him to take them back.

part of you was always afraid peter would get second thoughts. not only about running away with you, about ever being with you. you’re both so young. your entire lives are ahead of you, and peter won’t allow you to risk your own because this isn’t worth a single bit of it.

he’d warned you how dangerous it was to be associated with spider-man. it’s why he held off on telling you about his alias for the longest he could. you naturally began asking questions whenever peter bailed on dates and showed up to school covered in bruises. he hated lying to you, using his stark internship as an excuse, so he finally came out and said it.

peter sometimes wonders if you’d be better off not knowing at all. it’s too late now, though.

“wait, what? why- why can’t i go with you?” you plead, peter’s fingers coming up to cup your cheek. his fingertips lightly caress your skin. “i’m a criminal, y/n. you’d be my accessory.”

it takes everything in him not to break down and sob along with you.

you lean into his palm, already missing his touch. “i don’t care... i don’t give a fuck. i just wanna be with you, peter.” peter literally has to bite his tongue to fight the urge to cry. hands grabbing either side of his head, your fingers twist in his hair roughly. “i’ll do anything, pete. i really will, i swear. name it.”

peter threads his own fingers through yours again, bringing your hands to his chest.

“i’m so sorry, angel. i never should’ve gotten you involved,” he murmurs out and pecks your forehead. “you have nothing to prove to me, okay? you’ve done more than enough. i’m gonna return the favor.”

you let out a strangled whine, your knees buckling as you come to terms with the gravity of your situation.

this is it. this is the end of yours and peter’s story.

“hey, none of that. it’s okay,” peter coos, neither of you convinced. the tastes of salt and metal flood both your senses. he helps you back up and hugs your waist, peppering your cheeks in more kisses. you’re bawling now, arms wound around his neck, clutching at his tattered jacket.

free tears escape peter’s eyes at last. “i love you. i love you so goddamn much, y/n. never forget it,” he nearly whispers. you sniffle and push your forehead against his. “i’m not saying it back ‘cuz that feels like a goodbye, and i- i can’t say goodbye to you yet.”

“it’s not a goodbye,” peter reassures you, rubbing circles on your lower back. “it’s, uh, it’s a see you later. i’m gonna figure something out and be back to you before you know it. can’t get rid of me that easy.”

that earns a faint giggle from you, peter managing a grin. you two attempt to ignore everything happening beyond these walls, only focusing on the other.

“then, um…” you clear your throat. “i love you.” his smile dwindling slightly, peter nods and meets your gaze. “i love you too, baby. you should probably get going soon.”

affirming his advice, a booming voice that sounds from a microphone commands peter to come out with his hands up.

your worry spikes, instinctively drawing peter in closer. he forces himself to put on a brave face for you.

“i’m scared, pete. where… where am i supposed to go?” you rush to ask him. “home, y/n/n. go home,” peter decides, pressing a final kiss to the top of your head. “just don’t get caught, and you’ll be fine.” carding your fingers in his undone curls, you sigh. “easier said than done, but i’ll try not to.”

you’d never pictured that the sweet boy with a heart too big and brain even bigger, who sings you to sleep even though his voice sucks and spends his last dollar buying you flowers, would be accused of first degree murder. it isn’t true or fucking fair.

what’s worse, he has to bare this storm alone now.

you lift your heavy backpack off the cold ground, slinging it onto your shoulders. peter stares out the window and down at the assembly of swarm troops crowded together.

“are you gonna be okay?” you catch his attention. he snaps back into reality, pulling your hood up so it covers your head. you’re wearing a sweatshirt of his, after having gone through all your own clothes. “i hope so. are you?” peter repeats your question. “i hope so,” you echo.

tying your hoodie strings tight, peter offers a smile. “say hi to may for me. ned and mj, too.” it’s going to be tough to face his family and friends after this. “i will. i’ll let them know you’re alright.” you kiss his cheek, placing a hand on his chest. peter lets your touch distract him from the mess he’s about to be hit with.

“thank you, y/n. i’ll see you soon, baby. you have my word,” he promises, stepping back so you two can go your separate ways.

you watch him with fresh tears threatening to spill.

“i’m gonna hold you to it. be safe, spidey.”

290 notes · View notes

lokisasgardianvampirequeen · 2 years ago

Text

To Those Who Time Forgot

Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Vampire!Female Reader, Sam Wilson

Words: 1670

Warning(s): Violence, Swearing

A/N: All characters are property of Marvel I’m just borrowing them. Please do not use or repost my work elsewhere. Much love and I hope you enjoy!!!! Reblogs are immensely appreciated ❤️

Chapter Eight

Bucky began to stir, blinking slowly. His surroundings still a bit blurry and now very dark. He was wracking his brain, trying to recall what happened. He pushed himself to his feet, noticing the car behind him. Everything came rushing back in a tumultuous whirlwind then, assaulting his brain. Flag smashers, the truck, his name screamed, but most of all your piercing terror laden shriek. Bone chilling, eerie and all to well know to him from his own past. Quickly he ran to the car to check on Sam, finding him still out cold but unharmed in the back seat. Seeing Sam was no worse for wear he made his way over to where he had last seen you. He looked over the area thoroughly, looking for something, anything, even the tiniest modicum of a clue that would lead him back to you. A small flickering glint caught his eye. He squatted down picking up the small metal disc. A tracking device, usually hidden on an article of clothing. It was slightly bent but he put it his front jacket pocket hoping Torres could work some sort of magic with it, even in its damaged state.

His mind was beginning to spiral. He intimately knew the horrors of what Hydra could and would subject someone to. He shuddered involuntarily, praying to someone, anyone that he and Sam could get to you before anything happened. Coughing drew him out of thoughts then, his head snapping back towards the car. Sam was standing, using the car door for leverage while trying to catch his breath after the gas onslaught. Bucky made his way back to Sam, trying to keep himself composed, knowing losing his shit wouldn't help matters. He took out his phone dialing up Torres and requesting a pick up from their location.

"What....what happened?" Sam managed to get out. "Flag smashers, they gassed Y/N's place. She managed to get both of us out and into a getaway car. You were passed out. They caught up to us and managed to t-bone the car. I.....I....I couldn't stop them Sam" Bucky said voice cracking slightly. "They got her, they got her and I couldn't stop them because they put enough tranq in me to take down a fucking elephant." Sam placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze. "We'll get her back man, I promise, I swear on Steve we will" gazing into Bucky's eyes reassuringly. The words struck Bucky as odd but then again he still sometimes couldn't trust his own feelings despite his massive progress. Sam Wilson was as un-nefarious as they came, and whether he wanted to admit it or not Sam was not only his friend, but his family now. The men's pick up arrived then.

The ride back to the compound was silent. Whatever the case, you were still missing and judging from the time the flag smashers now had a 7 hours lead. In Hydra time that may as well been an eternity. Upon arriving back at the compound Sam and Bucky went to shower and change deciding to meet up with Torres once they were finished. While the men were busy Torres opted to have take out delivered and set the table. For the first few moments the three men ate in silence. No one wanting to rehash the last 7 hours. Torres being the chatty and outgoing type was the first to speak. "So Sam is the plan ago?". Sam choked on his food, staring daggers at Torres whilst paling visibly. Bucky eyed the two men suspiciously. "What plan?" he questioned. Torres fidgeted nervously with his hands while Sam looked down at the floor, guilt written across his usually stoic features. Bucky stood and slammed his metal palm against the table causing the men to look up at him panicked. "WHAT FUCKING PLAN!?!" he questioned again, voice much more raised. "I think you should sit Bucky" said Sam. Bucky growled lowly, anger threatening to over take his usual composed façade. "TALK YOU TWO.....NOW!" he barked.

***8 hours ago before going to Y/N's***

"Sam get in here, now" Torres shouted. Bucky was out of ear shot, still in his room getting ready to leave to Y/N's. Sam entered Torres office. On the large wall monitor, a cryptic email displayed. Sam read through the message at record pace.

*You know who we. You know we cannot be stopped. You have tried in past and you have failed. We have our goals and we will achieve them by any means necessary. We require the location of Y/N L/N. Failing to give us this information will be futile. We have 5 small range nuclear bombs hidden throughout the city. If you do not meet this deadline the death of everyone in New Orleans will be imminent. Their blood will be on your hands and yours alone. You cannot stop us. Choose wisely false Captain. You have one hour.*

Sam and Torres looked at one another wide eyed. "We need a plan and fast." "I know that Torres, I'm thinking. Give me a minute." Torres went to speak again and Sam cut him off. "I know, I know. We don't exactly have a minute." Sam exhaled. "Torres do you still have any of those mini tracker chips?" Sam asked. "Ofcourse I do, but how is that going to help?" Sam sighed. "Ok here's what we're going to do. Organize a task force and have them use drones to look for radioactive signatures throughout the city, you can use Red Wing. Bucky and I will go to Y/N's as planned and I will plant a tracker on her discreetly. When Bucky and I leave reply Y/N's location to the email and run a trace to see if you can find the sender location." "And what do we tell Buck? I don't think he wants us using anyone as bait and from the sounds of it, especially Y/N" Torres stated pointedly. "We don't have a choice Torres. 383,997. Do you know what that number is? That is all the innocent people that are going to die if we do nothing. As much as it pains me to do it, this is our only option. We'll track Y/N so we can rescue her as well as take down what is left of the flag smashers and Hydra. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT tell Buck anything right now. I will talk to him when we get back." Torres reluctantly agreed, shaking his head solemnly.

*******Present*******

Both Sam and Torres at least had the where with all to stop eating. Sam cleared his throat. " We received a terrorist threat before leaving for Y/N's earlier." Bucky raised his eyebrow at Sam to continue. Torres pulled up the email and displayed it on the TV screen of the common room. Bucky read over it meticulously. A myriad of emotions passing over his face. Uncertainty, fear, desperation, hurt, and finally anger. "Why didn't you tell me? Better yet, what the hell are you hiding Wilson!?" Before Sam could respond Bucky spoke again. This time almost devoid of emotion, punctuating every word "What. Did. You. Do?!" Sam spilled everything then, no holds barred, put all out in the open. "I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart I am Buck. The plan was solid and was the best course of action for what little time we had." For a long moment Bucky just stood there, shocked into reticence. Torres almost got up, having the urge to wave his hand across Bucky's line of sight. Sam and Torres continued to eye him. Suddenly Bucky's eye twitched. The two men looked at each other and then back to Bucky. Bucky's eye twitched again, this time more pronounced as well as part of his face.

Bucky spoke again, the time his cadence monotone, looking directly at the two men "Чертовы предатели. Отбросы. Вы не годитесь называть себя союзниками. я готов отвечат. Теперь она моя миссия, моя жизнь" ("Fucking traitors. Scum. You are not fit to call yourselves ally. Ready to comply. She is my mission now, my life.") He flipped over the table covering both Sam and Torres in their meals. The two men stood backing up abruptly. Sam's eyes widened and pupils dialated realizing what just happened, and how fucked they very well may be. Torres looked to Sam full of anxiety and panic. In as calm of a tone as he could muster Sam bean to speak.

"Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. Your friends and family call you Bucky. You were born March 10, 1917. You grew up in Brooklyn with your best friend Steve Rodgers, remember him? Captain America." He slowly picked up the shield showing it to Bucky. "You are not a killer, you are no longer the Winter Soldier. Your name is James Bucky Barnes and you have been working to make amends." This only served to irk the soldier further. Bucky lunged at Torres throwing him against the wall, knocking him out. Sam launched the shield at Bucky, knowing it was probably pointless, while making a run towards the weapons room. The soldier caught the shield and was quicker still, catching up to Sam in five large strides. He picked Sam up by the throat and slammed him hard into the ground while keeps his grip around his throat. Sam began struggling to get out of the soldiers grasp. Looming over him, moving the shield to his eye line, the soldier spat "Ты не годишься ни для этого предателя щита, ни для униформы, которую ты сейчас украшаешь." ("You are not fit for this sheild betrayer, nor the uniform you now adorn.") Then he brought the shield down on Sam's ribs. He brought it down again, this time striking his face instantly rendering him unconscious. The soldier made his way to the weapons room effectively ridding it of anything he could either wear or carry and left.

Tags: @mochie85 @theaudacitytowrite

<Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine>

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes series #bucky x reader #the winter soldier #bucky x female reader

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Notice Me

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 3843

Summary: A killer leaves Reid’s girlfriend on the steps of the BAU with a message for Hotchner and the team. Spencer’s judgement is clouded and it seems that the killer isn’t finished with you.

Notes: This is a dark one guys, so please be wary of that. I wanted to do an imagine that kinda felt like a case, but also had the reader involved and everything. This is another one that I needed to split into two parts because I got a little carried away (whoops). As always, please let me know what you think!

Warnings: Trauma, gore, assault, mentions of rape and sexual assault.

Find Reid and more crime drama imagines: HERE

It was late. Later than anyone should have still been at the office and yet J.J. sat in front of a pile of files on her desk. Of course, Hotch was in his office too, both having already tried to convince the other to go home. Feeling like the piles would never end, J.J.’s attention shifted from a case to the flicker of movement just outside her door. At first, the figure standing by Spence’s desk startled her, but she quickly realized that it was you.

“Y/N?” She smiled to greet you, though her confusion was clear.

“Agent Jareau, I didn’t know you’d be here.” It was dark, so she couldn’t quite see how strained your smile really was.

“Please, call me J.J.” She said lightly. Ever since you’d started seeing Dr. Reid, she liked to think the two of you had become friends. You liked to think that too, which was why you had hoped she wouldn’t be here. “Spence went home a couple of hours ago.”

“Is SSA Hotchner here?” You blurted. You didn’t have much longer. Her brows furrowed.

“Um, yeah. He basically lives here, unfortunately.” She couldn’t get another word in before you rushed past her towards Hotch’s office. It wasn’t until then that she saw how pale you looked.

It took every ounce of strength you had not to stumble as you walked. You kept your coat closed, partially out of embarrassment and partially because you were afraid that, even now, he was watching. Hotchner was working at his desk, just like he’d predicted. You had to knock to get him to look up.

“Agent Hotchner?”

“Dr. Y/L/N,” He set down the notes he was looking over and stared at you with surprise. “What can I help you with?”

“I know it’s late, but he told me I had to find you.” You leaned against one of his chairs for support.

“Reid sent you here?”

“No. Spencer doesn’t know I’m here. He doesn’t know anything.” You winced at the thought. Spencer had no idea. He was probably worried out of his mind. You were supposed to be at his place watching a movie. Everything had changed in the span of one evening.

You felt something drip off of the tip of your finger. Hotchner’s eyes followed the dark liquid until it splattered on his carpet.

“Y/N are you okay?” Hotch stood up, noticing the way you seemed to sway slightly.

“He said I had to come here. If I didn’t, he said that whatever he did next would be my fault. He said he has a message for you.”

“Y/N, who said this?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.” You undid the button keeping your coat closed. It was getting harder to speak. “He said that this is for you. For all of you.”

You let your coat fall off of your shoulders, revealing your bloody chest and arms. Hotch lunged towards you as you collapsed, finally succumbing to your injuries.

“J.J. get an ambulance here now!” He screamed, desperately trying to catch you before you hit the ground. The blonde appeared in the doorway to see what was going on.

“Oh my god.” She gasped, rushing to the nearest phone.

Hotch’s stomach dropped, taking a closer look at the bloody gashes on your chest. Each slash was deliberately carved into the flesh, forming two words; Notice Me.

“J.J.!” He called out again. She rushed back into the room.

“The paramedics are on their way.”

Hotchner’s panicked face looked up at her.

“Call the team.”

“Y-yes sir.” Her eyes widened, taking in the entirety of your wounds. Hotch’s jaw clenched.

“And J.J.”

“Sir?”

“Let me call Reid.”

He checked his watch for the hundredth time and blew out a long breath. On the table in front of him sat the box. The box. The box that had the potential to change absolutely everything. And you weren’t here to open it. He looked at his phone for missed messages, but the last text still read ‘On my way. See you soon.’

Spencer nearly jumped out of his chair when his phone suddenly started to ring. He felt his body tense when he saw the number.

“Hotch?” He answered. Part of him already knew.

“Reid…” Hotch sighed. “Spencer, you need to get down to the hospital.” Reid closed his eyes, hoping that he was wrong.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

“Something’s happened.”

“I should have known. I should have looked for her. She’s never late, Hotch. Ever. She’s actually early for pretty much everything. I should have had Garcia track her phone or have her-” In his ranting, he forgot to breathe.

“Reid, I need you to calm down.” Hotchner instructed. He listened to Spencer take a few deep breaths.

“Is she…”

“The doctor said that she’s lost a lot of blood, but she’s going to be okay.” He paused, making Spencer even more panicked. “Unfortunately, that’s not all we have to worry about. I’ll be able to explain more when you get here. The team is on their way.”

“Wait, the team is coming?” The turning in his stomach got worse. There’s only one reason Hotch would have called in the team.

“Like I said, I’ll explain when you get here.”

“Hotch-”

“I’ll see you soon.” Hotch wanted to be supportive, but they were on a time crunch now. This message meant there would be more bodies and soon.

It took a moment for Spencer to make his feet move. Once he did, he was running. Before he knew it, he was already outside and what he saw made him stop in his tracks. Parked in front of him was your car. Five feet and you would have been inside.

Morgan was the first to meet him. Normally, Spencer would have found his presence comforting, but he knew that he wasn’t just here for support. Hotchner called the team in for a reason. By the look on his face, Morgan already had an idea.

“What happened?” Reid demanded, trying to look over his shoulder. He tried to push passed him, but Morgan held him in place.

“We don’t know a lot. But Reid, you’re going to want to prepare yourself.”

“I don’t need a pep talk, I need to see Y/N.” His attempts to dodge around him were unsuccessful.

“He carved a message into her chest with a knife, Reid.” Morgan sighed. Spencer stopped.

“What?”

“Come on, Hotch can tell you more than I can.” He led Reid back to a waiting area where a few other members of the team had gathered. Rossi was still on his way, and so was Prentiss., but Garcia, J.J., and Hotch were grouped together in the far corner. Garcia and J.J. were looking at something on her computer while Hotch sat with his eyes closed.

He was trying to remember every last detail from when you walked in to when you collapsed. He knew something was wrong and he should have acted sooner. He analyzed every single word that you said, trying to piece everything together.

“He said that this is for you. For all of you.”

Notice me.

“Hotch.” Morgan called to get his attention. Everybody looked up and saw that he was joined by Reid.

“Oh my god.” Penelope immediately stood and rushed over to them. She had definitely been crying. Spencer had forgotten that the two of you were friends. You were friends with the whole team, really. She enveloped Spencer in a tight hug. “When J.J. called, I couldn’t believe it.” She took a deep breath to compose herself. “We are going to figure this out and everything is going to be okay.”

“Babygirl, let the kid breathe.” Morgan gently pulled her way from him. Spencer just stared off into nothing.

“Her car is outside my apartment building.” He said blankly. “She was coming over to watch…” His gaze fell to the floor. “She was there. She was at my apartment and he took her.”

“Spence, this isn’t your fault.” J.J. put a hand on his shoulder. “You couldn’t have known that he was out there.”

Before he could respond, Garcia’s computer made a sound. She seemed almost afraid to look. When she did, her face dropped.

“Is there a pattern?” Hotch sighed. She nodded, trying to keep calm.

“Four bodies have been found in Maryland and Virginia. All of them were bound with duct tape, their necks were slashed and they were all raped.” She could barely say all of it without getting sick. She looked up at Spencer frantically. “But none of them had any messages or anything like that so maybe this isn’t the same guy. If it was the same guy, why would he…”

“Why would he leave her alive.” Spencer finished, closing his eyes. He couldn’t stop his brain from picturing every scenario, manifesting every scream.

“I’m going to go see if the doctors can tell us anything.” J.J. said, giving Spencer a reassuring look. Reid finally looked at Hotch. He couldn’t help but stare at the blood that stained the front of his superior’s shirt.

“What happened?” He didn’t think anything could be worse than what he already imagined. Hotch motioned for him to have a seat.

“Whoever did this wanted to send us all a message. He told her that if she didn’t get to my office, that whatever he did afterwards would be her fault. He wanted to make sure I saw what he did.”

“Morgan said that he-” Spencer took a sharp breath but was able to keep calm, distracting himself by picking at his nails. “He said that she had something carved into her chest?”

“Like I said, he wanted to make sure that I saw.” Hotch sighed. “He wrote ‘Notice Me’.” Everyone fell silent, each trying to wrap their heads around the situation.

“Hotch,” J.J. returned, her expression betraying her concern, “She said she’s ready for questions.”

“Can you handle it?” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should stay here and look over the cases Garcia found.”

“Of course.” J.J. paused before looking at Spencer. “She said she would like you to be there, Spence.”

“O-okay.” He rose slowly, his nerves barely allowing him to move. Morgan gave him a supportive pat on the back before Spencer followed J.J. to your room. Every step he took made his heart pound harder. He’d heard countless statements from victims, analyzed the most gruesome crime scenes imaginable, but he had never been this paralyzed before.

The two agents opened the door to find you struggling out of the hospital bed while a nurse tried to get you to lay back down.

“I appreciate everything, really, but I’m not going to sit here all night. I need to find-” Your argument with your nurse quickly came to a halt. “Spencer.”

“The doctor said you were ready to answer a couple of questions.” J.J. gave you a small smile, pulling a chair up next to your bed. “He told me you wanted Spencer with you.” She looked back at Reid, who was still standing in the doorway.

He just stood there and stared. Your face was bruised and a bandage covered an injury on your forehead- probably the blow that your attacker used to overtake you. Bandages covered your arms and he could see more under the collar of the hospital gown. You were shaking, the color from your skin faded and cold. Seeing him made your eyes water.

“Spencer, I-”

“You were late.” He blurted. He started to fidget with his nails. “I mean, I thought you were late. Even though you are never late for anything. You didn’t call or text me or anything and I still didn’t look for you. I should have looked for you. I-” His words caught in his throat.

You shrugged off the nurses hands and walked towards him, trying not to wince as you raised a hand to rest on his cheek. He had tears in his eyes and you could tell he was desperately trying to keep them back.

“Spencer, this isn’t your fault.” You said softly. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, trying to stop imagining what happened in that goddamn hour that that man would have had you.

“Dr. Y/L/N, you really need to be laying down.” The nurse insisted. Spencer opened his eyes and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“She’s right. Come on.” He took your hand and led you back to the bed, helping to tuck you in under the blanket. He sat in a chair across from J.J. and kept your hand in his.

“Are you ready?” J.J. asked patiently. You nodded nervously. J.J. smiled reassuringly. “If you want to stop at any point, just let me know, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What were you doing before you were attacked?”

“I was driving to Spencer’s apartment.to watch a movie and have dinner.” You glanced over at your boyfriend. “I parked in front and walked towards the door, but I didn’t get there.”

“Were there cars already parked when you got there?”

“I-I think so.” You closed your eyes, trying to envision the scene, but all you could see was his face and with his face came the pain and the terror. “Oh god, I see him.”

“Stay with me, Y/N.” J.J. kept her voice as calm as possible when inside her heart was breaking for you and for the anguished Reid across from her. “Do you remember the cars?”

“Breathe with me, Y/N.” Spence instructed, kissing the palm of your hand. You calmed down enough and focused on the sound of his voice. “Breathe in. Breathe out.” You exhaled slowly and nodded.

“There was a van.”

“What color was it?”

“It was dark, but not black. Blue maybe? I don’t know, I only saw it for a second.”

“That’s okay.” J.J. said. She exchanged a look with Spencer. Now came the hard part. “What did you do when you got out of your car? Did you see anyone?”

“No, it was just me. I walked towards the door, but something hit me. Someone was dragging me away from the door. The next thing I knew, I was in a van.”

“Do you see anything?”

“There’s something on the walls. Some kind of padding. A-and on the back of the seat, there’s this jacket. A women’s jacket. It was red.”

“What else can you see?”

“I see him.” A tear escaped your eye and fell silently down your cheek. “He-he’s leaning over me and he’s-” You paused and listened to the sound of Spencer’s breathing. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him. You wanted to see his face instead of the creature that did this to you. But you needed to do this. “He’s unbuttoning my shirt.”

“Do you remember feeling the van move at all before he did this?”

“No. No, he didn’t drive until after.” You felt Spence’s grip on your hand tighten. J.J. watched him carefully, reading the pain on his face. “He said something while he was taking it off. He said he ‘didn’t have enough time’ and he ‘couldn’t do it now.’ He said he wanted it to be special. That I was special.”

“Was he wearing a mask or a hood?”

“No, I could see his face. That face…” You held back a cry. Spencer held back the urge to wrap his arms around you. “That’s when he took out the knife and started carving this.” You put a hand on your chest. “He said I was his messenger.” Your heart was starting to race and you started to hyperventilate. “He… he kissed each cut as he made them and then he would kiss me.”

You finally opened your eyes and almost wished that you hadn’t. Spencer was crushed. There were tears on his face and utter horror in his eyes. You had to look away.

“Well… you know the rest.”

“You did great, Y/N.” J.J. reassured you. “Do you think you’d be able to give a description to a sketch artist?” Despite your efforts to keep it still, your lip started to tremble.

“D-do you think I can sleep first? I’m so tired.” You hadn’t realized how exhausted you were until now.

“Of course. Just let me know whenever you’re ready, okay?” She glanced over at Spencer with a supportive smile before she left to join the others in the waiting room. You couldn’t bear to look at the pain you had caused him.

“Maybe you should go with her.” You muttered, staring blankly at your lap, more tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You had brought him in here because you knew you needed him to get through this, but you hadn’t thought about what it would do to him.

Spencer tried not to show the hurt on his face, but he wasn’t successful. He let go of your hand and stood up.

“Let me know if you need anything.” His voice barely came out above a whisper. Any louder and he was sure it would have cracked. You watched the way his shoulders sagged as he walked, like he was carrying the weight of what had happened over his shoulder. You grabbed his hand before he got far.

“Spence, wait.” You motioned for him to come closer and held his hand against your heart. When his skin grazed against the cuts in your chest, it didn’t hurt. If anything, it eased the sting. “I love you.”

A small, lopsided smile appeared on his lips. Suddenly the box in his jacket pocket weighed more.

“I love you too.”

Once Rossi and Prentiss arrived, Hotchner briefed the team on what their next step should be. Reid, however, was nowhere to be found, which had made everybody worry. He sent Morgan and Prentiss to the latest murder crime scene to see if this really was the same unsub. Garcia went back to the BAU, but Rossi and J.J. stayed

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Rossi asked, setting down a cup of terrible hospital coffee. It was almost morning now and no one had gotten any sleep.

“From what she told us, it isn’t over yet.” J.J. sighed. “He told her that she’s special. He’s going to come back for her.”

“And we will be here when he does.” Hotch stared down at the array of photos from the previous crime scenes. He was usually good about separating his emotions from a case, but this was an attack against his team. This was made to be personal.

Hotch started down the hall, turning the corner and stopping. He noticed movement in the corner of his eye and turned around. Reid sat on the floor with his back pressed against the side of a vending machine and legs crossed in front of him. His face was sullen and tear stained.

“Hey,” He greeted, immediately stiffening and whipping his face with his sleeve. He stood and brushed off. Hotch noticed the way his hands shook. “Have you guys found anything yet?”

“Morgan and Prentiss are heading to the latest crime scene. Based on what Y/N told you and J.J. about the attack, it could be the same unsub, but we don’t want to make any conclusions yet.”

Reid nodded quickly, keeping his gaze trained on the floor.

“Maybe I should go with them. I might get a better-”

“This isn’t your fault, Reid.” Hotch interrupted. He knew exactly where the younger agent’s mind was. “That is what he wants you to believe, but it isn’t your fault.”

“I…” Spencer knew that arguing with him was pointless. He just looked defeated. “I have to do something, Hotch.”

“The doctors will likely release Y/N in a couple of hours. We’ll need to get her somewhere safe. You should stay with her.” Hotch knew how the guilt was weighing down on him. He put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all here for you, Reid. You and Y/N. We aren’t going to stop until we catch this man.”

“Thanks, Hotch.” Spencer sniffed. More than anything, he wanted to take you home and never let you leave his embrace. Reid leaned down to pick up his jacket from the floor, wincing when a small velvet box clattered to the tile. Hotch picked it up for him.

“Reid…” He proceeded with caution, but there was a warmhearted tone in his voice. “Is what I think it is?” He handed it to Spencer who hurriedly stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Actually it’s a-” He stopped and gave him his awkward lop-sided smile. “I was going to ask her tonight.”

“I didn’t know you were ready to take that step.”

“Neither did I.” Spencer laughed nervously. “But ever since I met her, I just knew. I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” He put his hand in his pocket, feeling the box in his fingers. Tonight was supposed to be so different. Hotch’s usually serious expression broke into a small, proud smile.

Hotch’s mind returned to the case and he started back down the hallway. Spencer walked towards your room, pausing when his phone rang.

“Dr. Reid.” He answered. For a moment, there was just breathing on the other end. Before he hung up, a low, raspy voice spoke.

“I won’t be ignored anymore, Dr. Reid. You all notice me now.”

Reid took off running. He found Garcia in the waiting area and pointed urgently at his cell phone before continuing the call.

“You’re right. You have our full attention.”

“I know that little trick. Make me think I’m in control so your pretty little tech can trace this call. I learned from the best.” He chuckled deeply. “You won’t find me until I want you to.” There was a brief pause, like he was stopping for effect. “I was just calling to ask you some questions, Dr. Reid.”

“I’m not nearly as interesting as you are.” Reid tried to keep his tone even as he watched Garcia scramble to trace the call.

“Could you hear her screaming?” His voice was like nails on a chalkboard. “I want to make sure that those soundproofing panels worked. She kept calling out for you over and over and over…”

“You want us to know who you are, why don’t you tell me your name?”

“Tell me, have you had her yet, Dr. Reid?” His suggestive voice made Spencer’s blood boil. “I’m dying to know what it’s going to be like when I have enough time with Y/N.”

“You won’t get that chance.” He finally spat, losing control.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take better care of her than I did those other girls. I look forward to meeting you, Spencer.” Just like that, the line went dead.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#dr. spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds imagines #jennifer jereau #criminal minds #crime show #Matthew Grey Gubler

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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

Text

Accelerate [Dana’s 600 Special]

Track: Feel It by Michele Morrone / Drunk-Dazed by ENHYPHEN / Insanity by THE BOYZ

Member: I swear he’s not even my bias

Genre: i-ion know-

Word Count: it’s pretty damn long so please don’t make me write a part two

Taglist: @hyunjaethereal @lsangyeons

The first time you laid eyes on Lee Hyunjae, you were both in Italy as he was being blinded by a billion flashes in his face. The light reflects off his dark hair - which was once a brighter color - as he maintains that polite, miniscule smile on his face. Most of the photographers and interviewers were male, for the sole reason that female photographers and interviewers would be too stunned to continue at their job.

Not that the males rushing to get a shot of his face or a string of words out from him now weren’t stunned themselves.

Despite being hailed for looking like every woman’s wet dream, Lee Hyunjae was more known for being South Korea’s youngest first class F1 racer. Sure, if he ever bothered to utter a single syllable of speech to you, you could pass out on the spot.

But right now, all you wanted was to get an exclusive modelling contract from Louis Vuitton to his manager. Not Lee Hyunjae, not his bodyguards, his manager.

“Lee Hyunjae! Do you have anything you want to say before your final race of the season? How do you feel about being so close to coming out top?”

His manager stands a step behind him to Hyunjae’s right, and gives the racer the green light to respond. The flashes and sounds of clicking from the cameras were so overwhelming, it’s impossible for you to even imagine how it felt like being in the spotlight.

But the celebrity couldn’t receive the question any less gracefully, and offers one of those swoon-worthy smiles before leaning into the microphone.

“I feel nervous but I’ve prepared for this. Consistency is key and I believe in myself, so if that answers your question...”

“Do you have any other plan other than racing? Word has it that you’ve received offers to be the face of Gucci and Louis Vuitton!”

The contract in your briefcase is still ironed out safely in its file when you pull it behind your legs, away from plain sight.

Hyunjae turns to look at his manager when the question posed obviously isn’t one of those in the list prepared, so the manager steps forward, and coincidentally spots you at the back of the crowd. He recognises you from the meeting he had with your higher-up.

“My apologies but Mr Lee isn’t permitted to answer to any of these, so if this is all then we must be going. Thank you for coming to the conference tonight.”

Lee Hyunjae and his manager step back away from the microphone and bow for the press to continue their aggressive, merciless snapshotting. You wait patiently for the duo to disappear behind the conference area, and for the press to switch their attention to the pictures they have on their camera before you make your round backstage.

The 5-star hotel is grand in all the ways possible: chandelier, white wines and champagnes being served in waiting areas and water was served sparkling. Finally fishing out the tag that you were given at the registration for entry to the event, you hand it to the lady at the meetings’ conference registration counter.

You wonder how the Louis Vuitton logos on your clothes and briefcase had gone unnoticed earlier at the showcase. Even on the tag, the ‘LV’ logo was so apparent. How far does the company need to go in order for them to have the logo printed in some shiny, golden print on the tag-

“Welcome to the F1 internal press conference and meeting, Miss l/n!” She pulls a sticker off a page and presses it onto the tag below the LV logo. “If you need anything at all, please just approach one of our staffs. All waiters and staff concerned will have a red tie tonight.”

“Alright, thank you,” The tag gets slid across the table to you. “Where’s the nearest washroom?”

“Oh, she’ll show you the way,” The lady gestures behind her for one of the staff members with a red tie to accompany you.

“Oh-” Slightly taken aback by the aggressive escorting, the younger female grins at you before holding out her arm in the direction of the washroom. “Thanks.”

The hotel’s grandeur only gets more and more apparent as your heels click through the hallways and corridors. For an event night, the hotel’s pretty desolate. Then again, the press conference happened outside where all the photographers and journalists were. The one you were here for was an internal press meeting, and last you checked, there were fewer than 10 names on that list.

“I can find my way back to the main hall after,” The slight panic in your voice humors you when the staff member seemed ready to wait outside the washroom. “Thanks.”

She bows and takes her leave only after you enter the bathroom; you can tell from the sound of her shoes echoing down the corridor. The scent of lavender is so overwhelming, you could almost taste it. Walls of cream and silver strokes cut through the tiles, a vase made of bronze sits in the corner of the platform where the sinks were, filled with roses.

The crisp reflection of yourself stares down at you in the mirror; it’s one of the few times you were dressed in branded goods head to toe. None of the articles of clothing you were wearing right now, you owned. Usually, you’d be gaping in awe at how beautiful these places where - after all, you were in a five-star hotel in Italy.

But no, after almost five years of working with Louis Vuitton as a brand ambassador and subsequently becoming an assistant model-scout has numbed your habit of wandering eyes.

The LV briefcase gets set on a dry area of marble, your fingers automatically clutching the edges of the sink as the jewelry on your ears, neck and hands twinkle under the fluorescent lighting. The makeup looks close to perfect - because someone had done it for you. Your clothes and shoes fit right down to your skin - because they were tailored for you.

You were more upset you couldn’t sell it off and donate the money over having actual ownership of these fabrics.

News of the orphanage had reached you hours after you touched down in Italy, and your heart yearns to stop the ache that seeps through you. They had run out of funds to continue the orphanage, the kids already enrolled would be split and sent to other organizations instead.

What you had once called your home was going to be non-existent in another years’ time. Those whom you called your teachers, mentors, parents... were going to be in places you were not familiar with. The children that you always bring back food, clothes and toys for were going to be separated into different cities and states. As if not having a family was not bad enough, the people you now called your family was going to be split apart.

You hadn’t noticed your eyes were closed until you opened them, the weight of the makeup on your face urging you to rub your eyes and skin but the discipline written into your hands stop you from doing so.

Standing back to fix your posture, your eyes land on the one garnish on your body that doesn’t belong to Louis Vuitton - the ring on your middle finger. A gold band that looked more like a wedding ring than anything else.

It had the name of the orphanage engraved on the inner side, so it feels lighter on your hands than it would otherwise be.

A deep breath expands your chest as you take your briefcase and step away from the sink, attention scrutinising yourself more than you actually would.

The corridors of the hotel collect you back into its wealth again, drawing the thickest line between the realities of people like you and those who enjoy the luxurious life.

The racer’s manager was sitting at the end of the meeting table when you enter, and you immediately recognise half the list of names you had seen before. Gucci’s manager was here personally. Another racer and his manager were here too. Stefano Domenicali and Michael Masi were here.

Why were they here? Their names weren’t on the list.

“Ah, Miss l/n!” Masi gets off his seat and holds out his hand. “Such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Honor on my part,” Reaching out a palm, you smile the most graceful smile you can find in the muscles of your face.

“Can I get you a drink? We’re still waiting for Mr Lee before we begin our discussion on the collaboration.”

Collaboration?

“Pardon my ignorance but... I thought I was here for a sponsorship or a model-contract request for Mr Lee... I wasn’t expecting your attendance or... a collaboration.”

Domenicalli chuckles heartily at his seat as he whirls around to gesture to one of the staff members in the room. “Will you get her a Mojito?”

Then he stands up and pushes his glasses up his nose bridge. “We’ve been looking for a company that’s willing to do a three-way partnership with us and Mr Lee’s agency. Right now, it’s boiled down to both Louis Vuitton and Gucci so... it depends on which contract Mr Lee’s agency is more interested in.”

“Oh... Um, if that’s the case then I’m not entirely sure if the contract I have with me right now is appropriate-”

“Oh, it’s not. LV has already told us you’d sell them better unscripted than if planned,” Masi leans forward and mutters away from your ear. “Don’t tell Gucci though. Their manager’s only here because they panicked.”

He pulls away and before he can say anything else, the door clicks open with a staff member pushing the door open for the star of the night.

“My apologies,” He’s changed out of his formal suit and is in a more comfortable set of hoodie and baggy pants now. “Did I keep everybody waiting?”

“No, not at all!” Masi throws his hands up into the air and beckons you to meet Lee Hyunjae. “Might I introduce... Miss l/n from LV. She’ll be the one pitching the collaboration for LV today.”

Hyunjae’s eyes are wide and clear, despite his fringe covering his eyelids. “My pleasure,” He holds out his hand and you take it to shake, but he doesn’t stop there.

Lifting the back of your hand to his lips, the contact is soft and gentle on your skin.

Your hairs stand against your will and goosebumps erupt all over your neck when he pulls away, eyes now locked with yours. Nobody else in the room bothers to provide a reaction - it’s like he’s done this before and it’s perfectly normal.

The rest of the evening is spent listening to your own pitch, and Gucci’s, but you couldn’t really keep your head in the game when... all that was in Lee Hyunjae’s head was... you.

You’d be lying had you said you were comfortable with how much he was glancing at you across the table, obviously not listening to Gucci’s pitch at all. His manager was the one busy jotting down all kinds of things, almost like it was an act of dictation. But the racer’s eyes fail to leave you for any longer than five seconds, and it was becoming glaringly obvious that he wasn’t really paying attention to the pitch.

Gucci’s pitch finally finishes, giving you some kind of escape because now his manager is pummeling him for not listening to the benefits provided as Gucci’s ambassador. The contract document from LV was sitting before you, very single term and condition now inapplicable because you had just pitched something that wasn’t in the instruction manual.

God help me not to get fired.

“Mr Lee has some to a decision,” Masi claps his hands together, earning the attention of everybody in the room. “The Formula One federation would like to officially welcome Lee Hyunjae as the brand ambassador in a stellar collaboration... with Gucci.”

The Gucci ambassador scout smiles with triumph as the room provides a round of applause, you included.

“Thank you so much, Miss l/n, for coming down. Your pitch was nothing short of commendable and I will make sure your manager will hear of that, alright?” Masi and Domenicali take turns shaking your hand. In your peripheral vision, you watch the Gucci ambassador shake hands with both Lee Hyunjae and his manager.

Masi and Domenicali finish up with you, and Lee Hyunjae’s manager approaches you for the handshake with his client behind him. “That was a stellar... impromptu pitch, Miss l/n.”

A gentle chuckle rolls off your tongue as you pull your hand away, tightly clutching the briefcase. “I work better when things aren’t planned, so...”

“We’ll... we’ll keep in touch, LV. You’re an excellent scout with marvelous presentation skills. It makes me sad Mr Lee didn’t choose you.”

Your eyes drift to Hyunjae’s and he’s already looking at you like he hadn’t eaten in three days and you were a bowl of soup.

“Of course we’ll keep in touch. He’ll still be valuable asset and ambassador after his contract with Gucci ends,” Ignoring him, you return your attention to his manager.

“Now, let’s hope the Prince of Korea doesn’t screw anything up, yeah?” His manager grins as he pats Hyunjae on the back. “Anyway, it’s been a mighty pleasure. We’ll be in touch.”

You lower your head as a small nod, turning on your heels to exit the room. Even then you can feel his eyes on your back.

By the time you’re back in your hotel room (which was in the same hotel as you had the internal meeting), your feet are half dead from the heels you were wearing and the makeup on your face was starting to wear off. It took a nice, warm bath and a rather long conversation with your own manager on the phone as he congratulated on pulling through an impromptu pitch.

He finally finishes, and you drop your phone into the towel by the bathtub as the steam fogs up the mirror. But your peace is cut short when someone rings the doorbell of your room.

“Room service for Miss l/n!”

Tightening the robe around your waist, you pull open the door and watch the hotel staff hold out a bottle of wine and an envelop. “Mr Lee Hyunjae sends his regards, Miss.”

Surprised, you receive the bottle. The hotel staff bows and leaves, letting you turn around and the door click shut.

To: Miss l/n

I apologise for the inappropriate staring earlier this evening. This is an attempt to compensate for my behaviour. I’ll be leaving Italy the day after tomorrow so if you could do me the pleasure of having dinner with me tomorrow... I’d like to be acquainted.

I’ve made a reservation at La Terrazza for 7pm. I’ll meet you in the guest lobby downstairs at 6.30 to pick you up.

Love,

Lee Hyunjae

You can see how the material of the paper trembles a little between your fingers. The thought runs, So he’s a creep and a national treasure. He can’t hurt you, right?

Again, the evening gown is more than fitting on you. It’s been tailored to hug all your curves at your chest and your hips and thighs and it exposes your leg where the slit is. It’s like LV knew you had an important evening appointment coming up and had you pack all these different sets appropriate for the event.

The usher standing by the guest lobby nods when you head for the door, and he pushes it open to reveal only one person in it: Lee Hyunjae.

On the phone, he whirls around when he hears the doors swish against the carpet flooring. His eyes are glimmering under the soft, rosy lighting and the glossy collar of his suit looks like plastic from the reflection.

“I gotta go, I’ll call you back.”

The phone clicks to black before he opens his blazer and slides it into his inner breast pocket.

“I’m gonna guess that’s your manager,” Your fingers wrap around the clutch tightly as he takes a few steps toward you, obviously very stunned by how different you looked compared from the previous day.

“Uh, no, actually,” That million-dollar smile gleams at you. He reaches up to his forehead and scratches his brow. His hair is styled upwards so seeing the glory of his forehead was pretty enticing. “My mom. Making sure I’m doing well and fine here.”

He stops a safe distance away from you, finished with taking in whatever of you his eyes and memory can allow him. “Not gonna lie, I thought you were gonna stand me up.”

“I think LV would fire me if they knew I stood the Lee Hyunjae up.”

Hyunjae licks his lips then purses them together, attention finally peeling off your face as he reaches for your hand. He presses his lips into the back of your palm, then casually hooks your arm around his while he walks to your side. “Ready to go?”

At a loss of words for his flirtatious mannerism, all you can afford is a nod.

But as if your vocabulary bank wasn’t already exhausted, you can’t help but stare in complete astonishment when you are led to the matte black Sian Roadster already waiting at the drop-off point right outside the lobby.

“Have them send the Dior package to Miss l/n’s room by 9pm,” He instructs the bell boy by the hotel entrance as he reaches for the vehicle door.

“Wait, what?”

“Yes, Mr Lee.”

“Thanks.”

“Wait a minute,” Your vision is finally peeled off the car when Lee Hyunjae pulls the door open. “What Dior package?”

“Just a token of appreciation from me, that’s all,” He releases your arm as he guides you into the vehicle. “I knew if I gave it to you over dinner, you’d reject, so...”

Twitching his eyebrow, he smirks and retreats, closing the car door.

Flirt.

The vehicle moves off with a sharp rev of the engine, and you almost feel guilty for being able to be comfortable in in your clothes, shoes, sports car and on the way to a fancy-ass restaurant.

If only things could be like that for everybody and everything.

“So, when are you leaving Italy?”

“Oh, um... tomorrow too actually,” Rome’s lights are wondrous on the outside, some of them blinding you. “I have... something to attend.”

“Hmm, that’s... vague.”

You turn to eye him at his silent call for clarification. “I’m attending a closing event; help out with administrations.”

“Like... a pet store or something?”

“Yeah, ‘or something’.”

“That confidential, huh?” He lets out a soft chuckle.

The gut in your abdomen tells you not to look at him. He’ll see right through you, figure out that there’s something more to it than something ‘confidential’.

“Yeah,” You mask it with a sigh. “Funds and things.”

You can feel his attention sink into your back as silence befell the atmosphere.

There’s a kind of light in his eyes when he talks about racing. When he’s describing the feeling of adrenaline in his fingers, gripped around the steering wheel. He’s unexpectedly kind to the service at the restaurant, then again he was a celebrity and he had a reputation to uphold.

It’s the kind of light that made you panic throughout dinner, because there’s no way this specimen of a man would ever pay you a second thought. Maybe you were going to be his Italy fling that he would boast about to his friends and colleagues and they’d laugh at you without you even knowing.

What was a rich, handsome racer even doing, single? It was too good to be true, and even if it was, you? Of all people?

Dream on.

“It’s been... an amazing night. Thank you so much for dinner.”

Lee Hyunjae walks you into the lift, letting you press the button to your floor first.

“I’ll walk you back. I have time.”

Standing with your feet together, in the safety of your gown, your hands are holding your clutch like your life depended on it. You could tell that he wasn’t the most comfortable now, not with his hands over one another and placed politely on his abdomen.

When the lift door dings open, the silence remains. He trails behind you as you walk your way to your room, hands fumbling through your clutch to search for your keycard. The slick of the door is fast and you push the door open, with a black and silver box with the label ‘DIOR’ printed on it sitting at the foot of your bed.

“Oh, my God!” You rush in and grab the box, eyes widening as you turn to him, who has one arm extended to keep the door open. The box was almost as big as a pillow.

There’s a soft, warm smile on his face. A stark contrast to all his flirty ministrations throughout the evening. “Goodnight, Miss l/n. Sleep well and have a safe flight.”

“Wha-” Then he lowers his head, and turns around. “Wait!”

Without another moment of hesitation, he disappears down the corridor and the door swings shut.

It feels ironically empty. Your hands are carrying this Godforsaken box of a gift and yet you cannot think of a way to properly thank the person who gave it to you. With slight reluctance, your fingers find the edge of the cover.

It’s a beautiful Dior blazer, packaged with a perfume and a cosmetics set. The cream letter in it is handwritten and signed the racer himself.

I wish we had more time. Love, Lee Hyunjae

The nauseating sensation of your heart sinking in your chest beats all the logic in your brain when you find yourself reaching for the door handle. The box is mindlessly thrown back onto the bed as you rush out, kicking off your heels in the moment of folly. (Of course, remembering to use the door latch to keep the door open.)

“Hyunjae!” You call down the corridor, and he was just about to enter the lift. He turns, providing you with a gorgeous view of his jaw.

It feels like a fairytale, when you run down the carpeted corridor, barefooted and still in your gown. The urge to throw your arms around him far supercedes your brain yelling at you not to, but you do it anyway.

He catches you by the waist as your rest your forehead in his blazer, arms already struggling to meet the height of his shoulders.

A whisper. “I wish we had more time too.”

He pushes you back by your upper arms, tucking one bit of your hair behind your ear. “If time is what you want, then I’ll make time.”

“But... I- Will you get in trouble?”

He looks you dead in the eye and subtly shakes his head.

Time stops.

Fear. That’s what you’re feeling.

Then he tilts his head and slowly leans in.

“I don’t think I’d care if I do.”

His breath hits your upper lip and your instincts flutter your lids shut.

White wine and strawberries from dinner. That’s what he tastes like.

Warmth radiates off his palms and into your cheeks as he holds your face close to his, unable to resist the satisfaction and sweetness you were providing him. In this moment of intimacy, he loses all sense of realism and urgency - all he wants is you to himself, for the rest of the night until the sun rises.

Then he’d have to worry about never seeing you again because his manager had chosen Gucci over LV.

But right now, he has your heart and soul in his hands, as does his in yours.

Being the romantic and (probably) egoistic man of a celebrity he is, he lowers himself and slides his arms where the back of your knees would be, somehow never breaking the kiss. The material of the gown dribbles over the cotton of his suit and your arm circles behind his neck, only minimizing the distance between the two of you.

It feels like you’re getting married in this black and gold sparkly evening gown when he pushes the door open with his back. The scent of the room is inviting, but definitely none in comparison to the scent of his cologne beginning to stain your hands and your clothes.

Gently resting you into the cool sheets of the bed, he pulls away to remove the Dior package off the bed, placing it on the mini coffee table by the bed.

You were never one to deal with one night stands. Hell, the only person you’d ever slept with was some stupid kid back in the orphanage when your stupid teenage hormones were running-

He pulls off his blazer and leans in again, picking your awkward hands and resting them on the knot of his tie. His fingers are grazing the skin on your upper arm, trailing down to your cheek and then your hairline where he combs his hands through your hair.

The knot on the tie comes undone with some slight tugs, and you slide it out from under his collar. Undoing only the first one, you rest your palms against his chest, creating a small rift where the air rushes to your lips where his should be.

He’s slightly stunned at the slightest breakage, but he is overwhelmed with more care and concern than he was upset. “Why? What’s wrong?” He traces your jaw and rests his fingers on your chin, noses almost touching.

“Are you sure... You want to do this? I can’t risk you losing your career,” Your index finger traces the likes of his cheekbone. “You barely just started.”

Hyunjae shakes his head subtly, taking your hands to his lips and pressing them into the back of your palm. “When I saw you in that room, I was... star struck. You’d think being the celebrity in the room would mean everything, but I felt like I was nothing if I didn’t know you, much less be able to get close to you.”

And for someone who hasn’t really had a biological family to love, his words stuck.

“I just... knew. There are some things in the world you can work for, but I don’t think any amount of effort can give me you.”

His brown orbs find your gaze and it melts you thoroughly. Like ice cream on a hot day; like the way the ocean washes against the sand by the beach, taking grains of sand away with it - the same way Hyunjae was winning you bit by bit, if not already all of you.

Your hands find his collar again, and it tightens around the stiff material to pull him back down. He smiles into the kiss, hands pressing into the mattress by your hair while you undo the rest of his buttons. His skin is hot under the shirt, blood running on the adrenaline and tension he was riding on from the intimacy. Muscles pumped and heart racing, you finally get his shirt off and he does you the honor of dropping it to the ground.

He gives you time to gasp for air while he dips his nose into your neck, inhaling your perfume and the scent of the hotel shampoo in your hair. His back muscles tense up under your cold fingertips as you run them along his spine. It’s almost beast-like, when he flexes his arms and every single move shifts his shoulder blades under his skin. His lips leave gentle pecks in your neck and your exposed collar bone, letting goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

His hand caresses your waist as a way of request, and you arch your back just enough for him to find the zipper on the back of your gown. The vibrations of the zip being pulled downwards already feels like little bolts of electricity up your spine, and the straps around your shoulders loosen with every inch unzipped.

He’s done, when his fingers return to your shoulders to push the straps off. The cool air kisses your skin in spots where he isn’t touching with any part of his body. The silk of the gown gently slides off with every inch of a movement you make, more and more of your torso exposed to him.

Sliding one of his arms under your lower back, he pulls you out of the dress instead of stripping you of it as he helps you further up the bed. Your hands press into the mattress in a bid to help him shift yourself without breaking the sloppy, messy kiss. Your back finally meets the pillows and he pushes the gown off the bed with his leg.

Chin tilting to the ceiling, he finally creates some distance between the two of you, eyes drifting down to your collar bone and chest still covered. His palms are hot around your waist as he trails butterfly pecks on your cleavage, while your fingers find his hair to tousle and grip.

Goosebumps start to surface when his breath is heavy on your stomach, then he reaches your underwear and it’s almost embarrassing to have him kiss you.

Your clouded vision is manually stuck to the ceiling when you can feel your face burning with adrenaline. The tickle of the material when it gets pulled off your hips and down your legs bring your cheeks more color, and before you know it, Hyunjae has your breath hitched in your throat.

He rests your thighs on his shoulders as he works his way around, the bare minimum sanity left inside you decides to grip onto the sheets instead of ripping out his hair.

Chills shoot up your spine mercilessly, emanating in the form of lewd mewls directed into the air. The crown of your head meets the cushioned head board of the bed when his grip on your thighs tighten to keep you from squirming too much.

Without warning, he drags a finger down your sensitiveness and slides it in easily, the sensation erupting a more-than-shameful groan from you. Pulling away, he adds another finger before shifting his attention back to your upper body, now eyeing the last piece of material covering your chest. But he captures your lips first to earn your attention, and your arms naturally find your way around his neck to keep him close.

His free hand goes around your back to unhook your lingerie, and it’s nothing but a new addition to all the clothes on the carpet now. He removes his fingers, and breaks the kiss first, for the sole reason of giving you a perfect view of him licking his glistening skin.

You can feel your brows furrow with frustration now, the warmth from him dissipating when he leans back on his heels in a kneeling position. By providing you a gorgeous view of his being while he undoes his belt, he’s only adding more fire to the fuel.

It’s significant enough to stretch out the material of his boxers, and so he climbs over you as he removes his last bit of clothing. He harshly yanks you downwards into a lying position by your ankle, and the sharp friction against your back is an addition to the heat between the two of you.

His breath is heavy on your lips as he rests his palms by your ears, weight pushing in the mattress. “Tell me if it hurts, love.”

Then he presses his lips into yours, like his life depended on it, and in one swift motion, he buries himself inside you like it was the most natural thing to do.

You suck all the breath out of him as you gasp into the kiss, and he finds your arms to hook around his neck and shoulders.

If you could feel the taste of honey throughout your body, this must be how it feels.

He gives you some moments before he starts grinding his hips slowly, his palms finding your thighs and digging into your flesh as he hooks them around his hips.

Breathless, you pull away first, whimpers in the back of your throat louder than what you would’ve expected. His nose dips into your neck again, arms now stretched out to use the headboard as support when he picks up the pace.

Cursing under your breath, you feel guilty for the bliss that was spreading through you. Your nerves are all heightened by the adrenaline and your vision is blurred from the sole nature of the intimate act.

He’s not fast, but every spot he’s hitting feels like cloud nine over and over again.

Like a spark in the dark, the sacred spot reveals itself in the form of harsher breaths and groans. Your fingernails dig into his back and your thighs are losing stamina to remain wrapped around him.

“That’s it,” He breaths into your ear, pressing a kiss into your lower jaw. “Come for me.”

Tremors burst through your body like lightning in a storm upon his request. He helps you ride it out with a few more thrusts before he pulls out himself, releasing on your stomach, chest heaving.

Resting his forehead on yours, he smiles. “Let’s hope that one day I wouldn’t have to worry about pulling out.”

You scoff, slightly tired. “We’ll see.”

You are woken up by the unfamiliar warmth you normally don’t have under the blanket. White sheets and tousled hair come into your field of vision before you can process the face, partially hidden, but eyes wide open.

“Jesus,” Your morning breath billows out between your lips and you swallow to dampen your dry throat. The room looks too damn bright for it to be morning. “What time is it?”

“7am. Don’t worry, we have plenty of time. My manager hasn’t called me so... we have time to spare.”

You shuffle around under the sheets and your arms slide under the pillow where its cool. He shifts and pulls out his arm to rest on his tricep, palm under his ear and hair as he perches up his head.

“What?” You pull the blanket up to your face and inhale the scent of it. It smells like him now.

“You look pretty when you’re asleep.”

“What?” You frown, but a smile is on your lips. “How long did you watch me sleep for?”

“Not long, don’t worry. I’m not a perv.”

“Well, considering we just slept together after 24 hours of knowing one another-”

“Hey, we’re both about to be deported back to Korea to work. Give us a break, would you?” He groans and shifts again, this time trying to pull you into his chest.

“Ah,” Snorting, you let him cradle you in his arms, his bare skin pressed warmly into yours. “��Deport’? That’s what you call your job?”

“Only because you’re involved now,” He pecks you on the lips. “So... can I ask about your ‘administrative matters’ you said you needed to attend?”

Right. The orphanage is closing down.

The guilt washes through you again.

“Oh,” A look of seriousness overtakes your facials, and he notes the change in expression. “Um... I- Well... It’s an orphanage. It’s closing.”

He blinks at you, gaze filled with wander. “Were you a volunteer or...?”

Silence.

You can’t bring yourself to say it.

Unable to bear the incoming judgment he might provide you, your eyes dart away.

“Hey, hey,” He finds your chin and tilts it back up to his attention. “What’s wrong? I don’t see anything wrong with being who you are. Why are you ashamed?”

“I... I’ve lived all my life with that label. ‘Orphan’. It only got better when I came out to work.”

“Is that why you are so worried? That... we might affect something and possibly implicate that?”

“Maybe.”

He sighs, thumb stroking your cheek as he shakes his head. “Nah. It shouldn’t matter.” Pulling your head into his chest, you can hear the steady thumping of his heart through his skin. “’Administrative matters’, huh? Are you like a... committee member or donator?”

“I’m an unofficial sponsor ambassador from LV. Well, LV was supposed to arrange for official funding, but they just never really had the time or resources to build the rapport. The orphanage was doing too badly for any company or brand to want to help and invest their attention on.”

“Mm,” He hums, stroking your hair. “I’m sorry about that. I truly am.”

“It’s okay. Nothing could’ve been done about it anyway. All I hope now is for the kids to be safe, no matter where they go.”

It feels empty again, having Hyunjae being ripped from your side at the airport once the plane touched down. The manager was surprisingly not surprised to know that you had spent the night together, the only question he had asked being something that concerned a future pregnancy, which the two of you have already confirmed negative.

It’s late when you reach back your apartment, and you ready yourself for the private meeting with the committee members of the orphanage. Though tired and severely jet-lagged, you cannot miss this meeting. It’s the last time you’ll see all the caretakers and members of the organisation in the same room.

You shift into the taxi in a new set of clothes, but topped with the Dior blazer and smelling like the Dior perfume, you feel like you were probably going to get slapped once you reach the meeting.

The building of the orphanage looks so run-down, it could be mistaken for a prison had it not been for the words HILDA’S ORPHANAGE in big, block letters above the entrance. Before you can exit the taxi, your phone starts vibrating in your purse.

It’s the President of the orphanage.

“I’m right outside the building, going in soon,” You push open the car door and thank the driver.

“The meeting has been cancelled. Someone bought the orphanage and we’ll be managed under a new system.”

“What?”

“Surprise.”

You turn around and see the last person you’d expect to see here, in his hands, a folder of documents and a small bouquet of flowers.

“Um,” Your eyes are stuck to Hyunjae, but you��re still on the phone. “The buyer... Does it have anything to do with Gucci or F1?”

“Yes, it’s an F1 sponsorship but there will be more details into the managerial and planning system. Some things will have to change.”

“I’ll... I’ll call you back.”

Hyunjae watches you lock your phone in shock, attention unrivalled. He takes a few steps towards you and you now realise he’s still in the same clothes he was in on the plane. His eyebags are obvious but the prideful grin on his face makes him glow.

Stopping about an arms’ length away from you, he holds out the folder.

“I checked with my manager and he checked with F1. They green-lit it, but on a few conditions. I heard them out before I told them it would be more likely than not you’d accept it, so here are the legal documents. All the terms and conditions and sponsor contract are already in here, so you and the President can sign it when you deem fit.”

Taking the folder, you didn’t even notice your hands are trembling as you flip through it.

But your eyes flitter up from the page when you notice the printing:

OWNER’S SIGNATURE (Y/N L/N): ____________________

“It’s yours if you sign it.”

Now, he holds out the bouquet. “I thought of putting it under my name but I don’t want you to think you owe me a favour and have it bugging you all the time.”

Gently shaking your head, as if you could shake out the surprise, you close the file and look to him in awe. “But I’ll still owe you, big time. This is... this is everything, so thank you.”

He sucks in a deep breath and shakes the bouquet of flowers a little.

“You can return the favour by going out with me. Properly, whenever I have time, and I promise, no Dior packages.”

Taking the bouquet into hand, you throw your arms around his shoulders, tears welling in your eyes.

#hyunjae #lee hyunjae #hyunjae smut #tbz smut #the boyz smut #the boyz hyunjae #lee hyunjae smut #tbz scenarios #the boyz scenarios #hyunjae scenario #hyunjae fanfic

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lxngbottom · 4 years ago

Text

Cramps. | N.L. (+ D.T & S.F.)

in which the reader is having a really bad period, so her three best friends come and check up on her.

warnings: pain, periods, bleeding, swearing, we know how it is.

i’m on my period rn, & these three boys are my fav characters so this is mostly to comfort me (and idk if you guys can even relate, but my periods get THIS bad) (edit: this was NOT supposed to be this long but oh well i love these three)

gryffindor reader! (but anyone can read obv)

—

somehow, you had managed to make it through the previous school day. but, the whole time your stomach felt like it was completely turning on you, and with every step you took, the bleeding was so heavy. you couldn’t even remember the last time you went through so many pads and tampons in one day.

on top of that, you were an absolute emotional wreck. and, that became apparent to neville when seamus laughed over tripping over your shoe lace, and you looked up at your three best friends with tears in your eyes.

“merlin, y/n! i was only messing with you! what’s wrong?” seamus furrowed his eyebrows at you, only for you to bend down and groan in pain as you attempted to tie your loose shoe laces.

“i can’t do it!” you whined, a tear finally escaping your tired eyes. you stood up, and sniffled, not noticing the genuine concerned looks plastered across the three boys’s faces.

and then, if things couldn’t get any worse, you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned around to meet a terrified looking ron and harry, staring down at your legs,

“y-y-y/n... blood! t-t-there’s blood running down your legs!”

you looked down, and sure enough, there was a bunch of it. you automatically began to cry, and the sobbing only got worse as you realized that this was happening in front of not one, not two, but five boys.

“nev—neville... p-please give me your jacket...” you choked out, rushing as the blood seeped between your thighs. he did so quickly, tossing it to you, and your tied it around your waist before running into the nearest bathroom.

“why would you point that out?” dean asked ron, eyeing him,

“what?! would it be better for her to stay like that the rest of the day?” the ginger snapped back, still not putting two and two together. ron wasn’t exactly wrong, but his execution was awful.

the boys sighed, deciding that maybe waiting outside the bathroom would do you some good. but, unfortunately, as 15 minutes passed, you never came out.

“m-m-maybe someone should go and get hermione. or lavendar. or one of the parvati twins?” neville suggested, scratching the back of his neck. seamus shrugged, honestly clueless on how to handle the whole situation.

luckily, a saving grace skipped by, grabbing the attention of all of the boys,

“ginny!” ron called out, and she stopped in her tracks, “thank merlin you’re here!”

the look on her face was questionable as harry, ron, neville, dean, and seamus all stared at her.

“w-what?”

dean spoke up first, more than concerned, “y/n went in there. she—she had—blood running down her legs. and, she started crying...”

that’s all it took for ginny to nod her head, “okay. you guys go ahead. i’ll take care of her!”

they did so reluctantly, more so your three best friends. as ron and harry wanted to be away from the whole scenario as soon as possible.

and, that was the last they heard from you yesterday. today, they waited for you to come down from the girl’s dorm, but you never came.

they waited for you in the great hall, but again, you never came.

little did they know, you were curled up in a ball on your bed, sobbing from the excruciating pain that filled your whole body. this cycle was hitting you like a truck, and you’d wished that somehow you had been more prepared for it.

hermione had left you reluctantly that morning, never seeing a fellow girl having such a bad period before. you had cried all night, and you and her both had barely gotten any sleep. so that’s why when neville saw hermione drifting off to sleep during a shared class, he was absolutely baffled.

as that same class ended, the three boys caught up with hermione,

“hey, granger! where’s y/n?” seamus asked, and she rubbed her eyes.

“she—um—“ a yawn interrupted her response, “she’s in our dorm. she doesn’t feel well.”

neville’s mouth went agape, and he finally put two and two together.

“i wouldn’t go and see her, though. you guys embarrassed her yesterday. she told me all about ronald, and ginny, and seamus. she’s really upset, and... she’s just in a lot of pain. so, just let her be for a while.”

and with that, she left the three boys. they gave each other weird looks, mentally questioning each other.

you on the other hand at this time, were crying as you changed out your bed sheets for the second time that day. it wasn’t necessarily the most comfortable experience to have to explain to a house elf why you needed a bunch of new clean sheets.

dinner soon came, and even then, the boys expected to see you sitting with them, eating and laughing. but, you still hadn’t left that dorm.

so, neville packed some extra food, and the three made a journey to gryffindor tower, just to see if they could break the rules to make sure you weren’t dying. (of course, all three of them were convinced that you were on your death bed.)

they slipped past the prefect, climbing up the stairs to your dorm.

dean was just about to knock when they all heard your voice,

“stop, hermione! please! i don’t care that i missed my classes! i’ve been puking all day, bled on my bed, almost shit my pants four times, so, i really don’t care about snape and what he said about me! piss off!”

seamus’s lips curled, and the sound he let out could only be described as pure disgust. but, neville nudged him,

“she can’t help it. don’t be like that...” he whispered, still not sure if you were alright with visitors at the moment.

“well, i’m sorry! but, dean, neville, and seamus are all worried about you! they—“

that’s when they heard a blood curdling scream, and it sounded exactly like you. it made them jump,

“I WANT TO KILL MYSELF! FUCK!”

“don’t say that! it’s only for a few days, y/n! i told you i would help you with anything you needed!”

“then you can start by fucking off! go away!”

the boys looked at each other,

“maybe—“

“yeah—“

“later.”

they all mutually agreed, and ran down the stairs before hermione had the chance to see them.

they settled in the common room, deciding to do their homework until they knew it was a safe call to go and see you. they all worried about you tremendously, as they had never heard you talk to a fellow friend like that. you simple weren’t that type of person in their eyes. you had always been patient with people, so it was a wonder to them how you loved them so much.

they spotted ginny, walking up to the girl’s dormitories with a glass of ice cream in hand. they naturally assumed it was for you. and truth be told, when ginny entered with a sweet smile on her face, holding the cold treat, you realized you had never been more happy to see a weasley before.

as pathetic as it sounded, you cried to ginny while eating the chocolate ice cream. you sobbed to her about all the events of that day, and the day before. your crush on neville and how you believed he didn’t feel the same, the way that seamus chewed too loudly, and how hermione was too uptight sometimes. she simply listened, knowing that’s all she could really do.

finally, the three boys saw ginny coming down the the glass now empty, and they ran up to her,

“is she okay?”

“what’s happening?”

“can we go and see her?”

she chuckled and shook her head them, “she’s fine, you guys. calm down. i’m not so sure if she’ll want to see you guys, but you guys can sure try.”

they all three looked at each other, slightly terrified.

but, they sucked it up and made their way up again. of course, seamus couldn’t hold back from making a snide comment,

“i swear, if i get a book thrown at my head and end up in the hospital wing with a concussion, i’m blanking it on neville.”

“why me?!” neville scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air,

“because! you fancy her and are the most worried about her! she’s just on her period! is it really that big of a deal?”

before neville could answer, dean cut in, “yes, seamus. it is a big deal. maybe not to us, but to her it is. try bleeding out of your dick for a week while your inside are ripping apart!”

if you would’ve been present, you definitely wouldn’t hugged dean for that one.

they finally arrived, and they argued for a moment over who would be the once to knock on the door. it felt like they were stepping into a death trap. finally, neville agreed to do it.

he did so gently,

“what?” you asked, “who is it?”

dean and seamus eyed each other, definitely panicking.

“erm—it’s... us...”

you groaned, and looked down at your state. you were only in your bra and underwear, trash bucket in your lap, nausea getting the best of you... again.

but, you figured seeing your three best friends would bring you some comfort. this wasn’t their fault, and you didn’t want to take it out on them anymore.

“um... you can come in, but warning! i’m—“

before you could warn them, the door flew open,

“naked...” you breathed out, looking down at the trash can.

they all went wide eyed, and neville covered dean and seamus’s eyes with his hands, and closed his own.

“close the door, you gits!”

neville did so with his foot, still covering everyone’s eyes. you let out a small chuckle at the fact, and shook your head.

“you guys can look, you know. you act like we haven’t been best friends since first year.”

“b-b-but you’re—naked!” dean responded, through neville still keeping his own hand over the boy’s face.

you pursed your lips as you felt vomit climbing it’s way up your throat, “who—“

that’s when they heard it. the violent sound of puking. neville thanked merlin that his eyes were closed, because he probably would’ve puked too.

“who cares?” you breathed out, wiping the slobber from your chin. that’s when seamus took neville’s hand away from his eyes, and realized how you looked.

you looked unrecognizable almost. you looked exhausted, pale, and like you had just been hit by twenty cars at one time. your eyes were all puffy and red from crying, and your hair was definitely not put together like it usually was. makeup was smeared all down your face, makeup from the day before that you simply didn’t have the motivation to get up and wash off. but, seamus couldn’t help but notice your bra and underwear.

“you—“ he chuckled, “you have teddy bears on your undergarments, y/n?”

you clenched your jaw, and tightened your grasp around the trash can, narrowing your eyes at him. his eyes widened,

“kidding! i was only kidding! they suit you well!”

finally, dean shoved neville’s hand off as well, and neville opened his eyes back up reluctantly. neville and dean took in your state, much less of a laughing matter to them, as they were more of the calm friends.

“merlin, y/n... are you alright?” neville asked, approaching you slowly. you shook your head,

“i’m dying...”

the three boys gasped, and you looked at them funny, “i’m kidding... but i feel like i might...”

that settled their nerves a bit, the theory of you dying slowly fading away. you spit in the trash can, and set it back down on the floor. of course, seamus being the curious cat he is, looked in the trash can.

“don’t look at my vomit, finnigan! don’t you have any manners?”

he jumped back, and nodded his head.

“what are you guys doing here, anyway?” you asked, laying down fully on the bed, stomach and legs exposed.

“well—we know—you—you sorta—“

neville sighed at dean’s awkwardness about the whole situation, “we know you’re on your period. and, we know that you’re in a lot of pain. and, we just wanted to come and check up on you.” he glanced at the other two boys, “right?”

“yeah, definitely!”

“totally!”

you giggled at seamus and dean, “oh, what gentlemen. how could i ever thank you?”

seamus couldn’t hold it in. the comment just slipped from his lips,

“well, seeing you in your bra and underwear is thanks enough in my book!” he joked, nudging dean.

surprisingly, the only one who laughed beside seamus... was you. this surprised the boys, as you were sure that would earn seamus that book to his temple, or at least a smack to the face. but, it didn’t.

“see? i told you guys she’s fine! she’s laughing like she always does!”

neville seemed to look over at you for reassurance, just to make sure that seamus hadn’t crossed a boundary with one of his crude jokes. it was something that seamus had done quite a few times, without even realizing it, but it was simply because he didn’t know how to put a filter on. you knew at the end of the day that seamus wasn’t trying to disrespect you. plus, it was something you had go get used to, being one of his best friends and all.

at one point, the boys had eased into the floor, getting things for you if you needed it. seamus even asked why exactly girls even got periods, and you explained it to him in full detail.

“so... like—the inside of your uterus is actually tearing? i thought dean was joking about that!”

you shook your head, “unfortunately, it’s not a joke, finnigan. it’s very real...”

“well, is it this bad for all girls?”

“no, actually. some girls only bleed for a couple of days, and it’s very light. they can go without cramps, puking... lucky bitches!”

that’s when the boys fell silent, even seamus himself. until he raised an eyebrow,

“is it bad that i’m kinda curious? you know—to see how it feels to... bleed... down—there...”

dean furrowed his eyebrows, but neville nodded his head in agreement.

“well, boys... i can’t make you bleed out your dick for seven days straight... but, i can punch you guys in the stomach with full force and show you how cramps feel!”

collectively, they all disagreed, which caused you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“but—it can’t be that bad, right? i mean, everyone can get a stomach ache...” dean questioned, but unsure of what he had just said.

“let me put it to you like this, thomas. imagine the weasley twins sneaking a muggle laxative into your morning pumpkin juice...” you started, “but that stomach pain for a whole week.”

dean put his head down, finally understanding. no wonder you had talked about almost shitting your pants.

that’s when the door swung open, revealing a surprised hermione,

“y/n! where are your clothes?! boys are in here! and plus, they’re not even supposed to be in here, anyway!” she snapped, immediately storming over to your closet, and pulling out a random shirt, throwing it at you.

“but, it’s too hot! and, any tightness hurts!”

“i don’t care! i couldn’t imagine sitting around with ronald and harry with my—lady parts hanging out!”

you chuckled at her hidden shaming, quite used to it by now. “oh, whatever, granger! it’s the same difference as a bathing suit! lighten up!”

seamus and dean snickered at the look on her face, and the way she stormed out.

“she’s right, y/n. not about—you know, we don’t care... but, just—seamus will be talking about it for the rest of his natural life if you keep your clothes off any longer.” neville stated, standing up and taking his sweater off. he passed it to you, making sure not to touch you in anyway that would make you uncomfortable.

you smiled at the kind gesture. sure, it was a sweater, and you probably should choose the lighter t-shirt that hermione had snagged out for you. but, it was neville’s sweater, so, how could you refuse?

you slipped it on over your head, and pulled your hair through the hole. it was quite comfortable, and you were just the right amount of warm and cool. so, it worked out in the end. “thank you, longbottom. that was sweet.”

his face turned red at the small grin etched upon your face, but he shook it off and sat back down on the floor.

you all began talking again, not even noticing when seamus had gotten bored and ancy, and started snooping in your drawers. but, his eyes went wide at the sight of something in your drawer. he picked it up, and stared at it for a moment.

“uh... y/n...” he started, voice a bit shaky, “what’s this?”

he held it up, and you, dean, and neville all looked over.

“that’s a tampon, finnigan. i use it when i’m on my period so the blood doesn’t leak out.”

he took a beat of silence as he connected the dots, and his eyes seemed to widen even more,

“and... you have to put this where exactly?”

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville x reader #neville longbottom smut #dean thomas #dean x reader #dean thomas imagine #dean thomas smut #seamus finnigan #seamus finnigan imagine #seamus x reader #seamus finnigan smut

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

Perfect

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Toxic Relationships, Manipulation, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Forced Impregnation

Prompt: “I told you to stay still”

Summary: The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step?

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt. (Masterlist goes live Tuesday 6th October 11:00pm U.K. time!)

Akaashi’s always been an overthinker. He can admit that. He knows it’s a flaw he’s always had and could never seem to shake off. But just because he realizes it doesn’t mean he does anything about it. And the overwhelming pressure he places on himself in everything he does only fuels the suffocating thoughts until they’re screaming in his head. Unfortunately for you, his sweet darling wife, that only means terrible things for you and suddenly every move you make is alarming, every word you say is suspicious, every breath you take painstakingly monitored.

Akaashi just wants to be the perfect husband, the perfect lover, the perfect provider. He wants the two of you to be the perfect happily married couple, to live the perfect domestic life. So after years of playing house, of devoting all his attention and love on you, of spoiling you rotten with everything you could possibly want, when you tell him you aren’t ready to have children yet, he feels his cool facade slip and the incessant thoughts begin to drown him.

The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step? Are you tired of him? Do you not want to have kids with him? Are you planning on leaving him?

You nervously shift from foot to foot, intimidated by the chaos you see in blue eyes and you tentatively reach out to your husband, trying to understand what’s wrong, but you sigh in relief as he jolts at your touch, staring blankly at you before setting his face back to its usual serene countenance, slightly smiling at you as he nods in understanding and affectionately kisses your forehead. This is the Akaashi you’d fallen in love with and you happily sigh as you wrap your arms around his waist, letting yourself be rocked in his arms in a warm embrace, ignorant of how his face hardens as soon as his chin is tucked above your head, eyes thoughtful, mind scheming.

It takes some coaxing, some patient conversations during your most vulnerable moments when you were still groggily rubbing the sleep out of your eyes or yawning as you lay your head on the pillow to sleep at night, but he finally gets his answers and he smiles in endearment as you worry about whether or not you’re ready to be a mom. Would you even be a good mom? Oh. He’s sure you’re going to be the perfect mother and he makes a mental note to prove that to you until you see it for yourself, but he’s grateful for the darkness that hides his grimace when you go on to talk about how you also want to focus on your career for now. It’s not that Akaashi is against women working. He doesn’t hate how happy and fulfilled you feel as you ramble on and on about work, about your coworkers, about your salary and title. He just thinks you’d be even more perfect as his pretty little housewife and he quietly plans and strategizes as your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you’re fast asleep besides him on your shared bed.

He waits until your chest rises and falls in even rhythms before reaching over for your phone. You’ve always been so trusting, probably too trusting of him, but that works in his favor now as he flawlessly types in your password and dives into your alarms and work emails. A swipe there, a deletion here. He meticulously combs through your phone turning off your alarms, deleting important meetings, getting rid of urgent emails waiting for your response before he quietly places your phone on the nightside table by you, pleased with his work and he closes his own eyes, a small smile on his face as he peacefully sleeps.

Luckily, he leaves for work much earlier than you, so he’s out the door before you can even realize the messy day you’re about to have and he can’t be blamed for not waking you up when your alarm doesn’t go off. He patiently waits and waits, glancing at his phone every now and then, waiting for the onslaught of panicked and distressing texts he knows you’ll send his way as your day gets progressively worse and worse. And sure enough, his phone vibrates over and over again as you send a flurry of texts steeped in negative emotions and like the perfect husband he is, he sends the consoling and comforting notes you need. And when you call, crying and sobbing about being yelled at, about how awful at your job you are, he’s there to soothe you.

“Don’t cry, love. It’s not your fault. You’re an amazing woman. Maybe this just isn’t the right job for you or the right company for you.”

He plants the seeds of doubt in your mind and you let them be watered by the sweet suggestions he sprinkles on you. And with just a few more flicks of his wrist in the middle of the night when you’re asleep, ignorant of your phone being used without your knowledge, and a little bit of time, you’re finally fired and he’s there, rushing back home to wrap you in his arms. But he smiles when instead of being distraught, you merely sit there quietly as you tuck yourself against him.

“Maybe this just wasn’t the right job for me, Keiji.”

He encourages you to take some time off from the workforce. You had worked so hard for so long. You deserve a break. And you mindlessly nod along to his silky voice. Relaxing does sound nice. You had thrown yourself into your job so much that you’d forgotten what it was like to have so much free time and you begin to excitedly ponder what hobbies you could pick up to fill the days, what projects around the house you could finally get done.

Akaashi sighs when his alarm goes off the next morning, but he sits up in confusion when the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air and he blearily turns to your side of the bed, freezing when he finds it empty. But his groggy mind begins to put two and two together and he rushes towards the kitchen where he feels like his heart might burst at the sight of you humming, an apron daintily wrapped around you as you pour a generous amount of dark caffeine in his favorite mug. And he can’t stop himself from closing the distance between you as he tenderly wraps you in his arms, turning you around until you’re face to face as he captures your lips in a good morning kiss. He wants every morning to be like this, he thinks, as he mentally captures the image of you smiling and waving goodbye to him from the apartment door. The perfect loving wife seeing her husband off.

You spend your long days at home tidying up the house, decorating spaces in the house you’d always wanted to spruce up but never had time to before, spending hours in the kitchen cooking and baking everything you’d always wanted to try. It’s nice to fall into a domestic rhythm with Akaashi and work is far from your mind as you cheerily greet your husband when he comes home, as the two of you pleasantly chat while he eats the piping hot delicious meal you’ve prepared for him, as he hand feeds you the brownies you had made as the two of you sit on the couch and watch a show together.

But as time goes on, you find yourself twiddling your thumbs a bit with just a little too much idle time on your hand now that the interior of the apartment is exactly up to your dream standards of cleanliness and decor. And you can’t help but wonder how nice it would be to have a small child running about the place, keeping you company while Akaashi is away at work. You freeze when the thought crosses your mind and your brows furrow in confusion. Where had that thought come from? You’d never wanted kids before. And yet...You quickly shove that fleeting idea to the back of your mind as you refold laundry that had already been handled, throwing yourself into anything that could distract you from the strange desires plaguing your mind.

Little do you know how much Akaashi has influenced you in the time you’ve been stuck at home. Little do you know that the daily evening walks he takes you on after dinner are always purposefully done around the nearby children parks. Little do you know that the little comments and remarks he makes about how adorable that child is, how silly this child is aren’t as offhand as you think. They’re strategically strung together words just for you and he slightly smiles when he sees them weaving through your mind as your eyes soften and a longing smile begins to tug at your lips when you turn to look at what he’s talking about. Little do you know that it’s no accident when the two of you go shopping and find yourselves passing aisles of children’s toys and clothing. And Akaashi feels his chest tighten with affection when you unconsciously skim your fingers over the tiny shoes and onesies, asking him for his opinions.

“Aren’t these cute, Keiji?”

And he nods his head as he reaches down to hold your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you continue perusing.

He knows he almost has you right where he wants you. He can almost see the cogs turning in your head, see you imagining a life with him and a family...your own little family. It’s time for the final step and he secretly keeps tabs on the convenient period tracking app you have on your phone waiting and waiting until your next ovulation period and when it comes, you squeal in surprise when he impatiently whisks you off to your shared bedroom and presses you down onto the bed as soon as he steps into the house after work.

His movements are so hurried, so rough, so unlike how Akaashi normally is, but you eagerly reciprocate, excited to see this side of your husband and you’re a moaning, writhing mess as he bites and sucks every inch of your skin, a trail of red skin following in his wake as he marks up your neck, collarbones, and breasts. You’re already dripping wet by the time he finally reaches down to rub your clit and slip his fingers inside of you and your hips buck up into his touch, urging him for more. Your head is swirling with lust and you whine when he briefly slips away to guide the tip of his cock against your leaking hole and you shudder in desire when you feel him running his tip along your slit. But even in your dazed state, you feel yourself hesitate a bit when you see that he isn’t using a condom.

“Keiji, I’m ovulating. You need to use a cond- AH!”

You’re cut off as he slides his cock inside of you, your slick walls greedily sucking him in with little resistance and you try to muster up the words to repeat yourself, but you can’t articulate anything as he leans down to suck a perky nipple as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a sensual, but thorough pattern, making sure you can feel every inch of him rubbing against your clenching walls, making sure you can feel him sink balls deep inside of him, making sure you can feel him stimulate the spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. And you give up, trusting that he’d at least pull out before he cums, and you lose yourself to the feeling of being so used and filled, feeling the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, and when blue eyes gaze down at you and he hungrily leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, you fall over the edge, your pleasured wails swallowed by your husband’s lips as he chases his own end.

You lay there in mind numbing bliss as he continues to sink in and out of your tight heat, letting out little mewls of overstimulation, but when you feel the erratic rhythm of his thrusts and you see the telltale look on his face as he closes his eyes that indicate he’s close and he makes no attempt to pull out, you weakly shake his shoulders, squirming and wriggling your body from underneath him as you try to pull away.

“K-Keiji, NGH you can cum on me. Okay? AH B-but, you can’t cum inside me.”

You scream when large hands roughly grab your waist in a bruising grip and forcefully pull you down until he’s fully inside you once again.

“Stay still.”

You whimper, trying to be good for him, but anxiety is beginning to cloud your pleasure and you struggle once again, pleading with him and telling him you don’t want to get pregnant. But you keen when that only spurs him on to fuck you rougher, harder, deeper and your eyes roll back as you try to register the almost painful overstimulation you’re going through.

“I told you to stay still.”

And this time you do stay still, unable to do anything else but lay there like a good obedient wife as he pistons in and out of you, your mouth open in a persistent silent scream as your hands desperately scramble to find purchase in the rumpled bed sheets and you brokenly moan when he finally shoves inside of you with one final thrust and your stomach feels hot as spurts of liquid spill inside of you.

You’re in shock as he stays buried inside of you, trapping your body with his as he lays down on top of you, nuzzling and kissing the crook of your neck as he keeps his cum inside of you and you’re not sure how much time passes as you just lay there, mind blank as you try to come to terms with what had just happened. But when you feel his cock begin to twitch and harden inside of you once more, you frantically try to push him away from you, try to separate yourself from him.

“Keiji, stop it! I need to go get Plan B or something. I-”

Your mind is a chaotic swirl as you try to figure out next steps to avoid this unwanted pregnancy and you think you might throw up at the idea of being pregnant, having a child, all so suddenly, so fast.

You’re not ready. You’re not ready. You’re not ready.

Your thoughts are shattered to pieces when you’re shoved back down onto the mattress and you loudly wail when Akaashi begins an unforgiving pace once again, brutally slamming his hips into yours, his cum acting as lubrication, making it easier for him to plow into you and take you over and over again. And the last coherent thought you have is that you were such a fool to not realize just how much stronger, how much larger Akaashi is compared to you as your attempts to shake him off are easily ignored by the man above you.

You don’t know how much time has passed. It feels like an eternity and you’re not sure how you’re still conscious as Akaashi breeds you over and over again. Your mouth is open in a persistent silent scream, your eyes are rolled so far back in your head you can barely see, tears and drool mar your face. Everything feels so good, too good, and you can’t stop sobbing from the overwhelming pleasure you feel as Akaashi keeps on spilling load after load of sticky white liquid inside of you and you curl into Akaashi’s body instinctively for comfort when he sinks down on top of you, exhaustion finally catching up with him. And the two of you just lay there, chests heaving as you both heavily pant, his flaccid cock still buried inside of you, plugging his cum inside of you. And even though you want to yell at him, to be angry at him for forcing this on you, you’re so spent, head empty of anything except for Akaashi that you let yourself be maneuvered until you’re both on your sides, facing each other, your lower bodies still intimately connected.

You let out a little whimper when you feel a large hand gently stroke your cum-filled stomach, but you can feel your face and body grow hot when his other hand gently nudges your chin up to look at him and you see the look of pure love and adoration in his eyes.

“You’re going to look so beautiful with your belly bulging with my children, our children.”

You let out a breathy gasp when he teasingly fondles one of your pebbled nipples and palms your fleshy mound.

“You’re going to look so beautiful when these swell up with milk. I wonder if our children would be willing to share some with their father.”

Sweet word after word spills from his lips and you listlessly lay there listening to him go on and on, painting a picture of what your future lives together would look like, and before you can catch yourself from falling deeper into his trap, your mind betrays you and images flash across your vision and you unconsciously draw even nearer to Akaashi, cuddling into his body affectionately as picture perfect scenes of you braiding a little girl’s hair while Akaashi teaches a little boy how to play volleyball flicker across your imagination. And when Akaashi feels you gently place your hand on top of his hand that’s still cradling your stomach practically sloshing with the amount of liquid he’s gifted you with tonight, he knows he’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

That night the two of you fall asleep, dreaming about the perfect life you’re going to have together.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu yandere #yandere haikyuu #akaashi x reader #yandere akaashi #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: manipulation #tw: yandere

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

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Imagine jimin dancing without shirt because it's to hot and the whole class sees him😳

no need to imagine baby i gotchu

this was supposed to be super short but i said that to myself like two hours ago and it turned into,.,.., thIS..,,. so if balletteacher!jimin doesn’t win the poll at least the ballet!couple stans have,.,.,. WHATEVER THIS IS

➺ pairing; balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n

➺ genre; i literally cannot focus because i keep staring at this gif so just assume this drabble is as hot as jimin i,.,.,. i am about to go into my jimin phase again,.,.

➺ wordcount; i don’t know i am so out of it right now (1.7k)

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

»»————-　🔥　————-««

“sorry i couldn’t make it to brunch last week and... the week before that… but i can definitely join you guys this week!” you chirp, pausing for a second so you can quickly pull your hair into a flimsy low bun, “there’s this place that has these massive waffles and you can pour as much syrup on it as you want on them-” you take your duffle bag out before slamming your locker shut and turning around, “plus-”

you immediately stop talking when you realize that you’re all alone in the changing room

you blink twice before reaching up to scratch your head

what the heck

…how long have you been talking to yourself for??

there are still bags and shoes and loose articles of clothing sitting on benches and hanging out of lockers but it’s just that their owners have completely disappeared

“guys?” you frown, zipping your hoodie up as you step over items littering the ground to make your way to the door, “i know i’ve been really flaky with our dates and stuff but you don’t have to abandon me mid-conversation to prove a point-” you poke your head out of the changing room, holding your breath for a second to see if you can hear anything

“-is someone filming this or what??”

“shh!!”

“move over, let me look too-”

that’s odd

“guys…?” you lower your voice as you approach the girls cautiously, raising a brow at the sight of them crowding around the door of the classroom, “is there, like- some kind of hip-hop class or something-”

you can practically feel the vibrations of the bass pumping through the floorboards as you get closer and closer, the sound of muffled thumping leaking out through the crack in the door

“y/n!” lisa turns her head when she hears you, slipping out of the group with a giggle and gesturing for you to hurry and come over, “there you are, silly- i thought you followed us-”

“follow- well, class is over and we’re all changing out of our unitards so i didn’t know i had to follow you guys anywhere-” you snort, leaning over a little to look at the group of giddy girls again, “let me guess - those boys from that other dance academy came to use our rooms again-”

“guys, move out of the way so y/n can take a look-” lisa swats at jisoo’s back gently, the girls whispering to each other excitedly as they step aside to let you through

“no way!” seulgi chirps, popping her head up at the front of the group, “you snooze, you lose, y/l/n-”

“c’mon, seulgi, don’t be like that-” lisa tuts, shoving at your back to force you through the tightly packed group, “everyone should get a chance to see this-”

“see what?! what is going on-”

“fine, but i’m only giving you one minute-” seulgi wags a finger at you before stepping down from the ledge, wrapping her hand around your elbow and yanking you up, “sixty seconds.”

“can i just say that you guys get so weird whenever those boys come to-” your mouth immediately goes dry the second you turn your head and peer through the crack, all the blood in your body rushing up to congregate in your face, “oh, dear god-”

you were certainly right about all this commotion being caused because of men

except, in this case, it’s just because of one man

you watch in shock as a very shirtless jimin slams his arms down mid-air against the beat, twirling around in the spot with his head tilted back

he slides a hand down his chest until he reaches the waistband of his sweatpants, lifting a leg and thrusting his hips forward with a grunt

his tongue pokes out in between his lips before it curls upwards and you swallow dryly when you feel your stomach flutter

out of all the things you were expecting to see when you looked into the classroom, it definitely wasn’t this

you’ve never seen jimin dance outside of a classical setting so this is very… very…

wow

this is very wow

“god, i wanna fuck him.” seulgi sighs dreamily, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, “i love men. don’t you love men?”

“men- i-” you force yourself to snap out of your daze, letting out a nervous chuckle as you turn to look at seulgi, “this- to be honest, this feels like a private moment, you know? i-i feel like we should probably leave now before he catches us-”

“oh my god, you always get so weird around mr. park!” seulgi scoffs, rolling her eyes before pursing her lips, “you can appreciate his beauty without feeling bad, y/n. relax a little!”

you press your lips together as you take a second to think through her response

…

what are you even thinking about?

of course you know you can appreciate his beauty!

you have personally appreciated his beauty in private many, many times but of course no one knows that

but maybe if you quit acting so weird and twitchy, seulgi will finally give you a break and will stop giving you crap about how nervous you get around mr. park

for the record, the only reason why you get so sweaty and weird whenever the conversation shifts to how attractive mr. park is is because you’re scared you’ll accidentally let something slip one day and screw everything up

the other day lisa was wondering out loud if mr. park had a six-pack or an eight-pack and you were about to respond with a ‘it’s a six-pack but he’s getting to an eight-pack if i’m being honest-‘ but LUCKILY you stopped yourself before all of that word vomit spewed out of your mouth

obviously she got her answer today after spying on him dancing half-naked

“in fact, i think it’d be good for you to appreciate his beauty up close so you can finally join in on our conversations…” seulgi clears her throat, pushing herself up from the wall as she zeroes in on you

“yeah, well, i think my sixty seconds is up, so maybe- oh!” you gasp when you feel two hands shove at your back and you don’t get a chance to even process the fact that you’re being pushed before-

the door ricochets against the wall with a smack! after you get pushed into the room, your palms slapping against the wooden floor immediately to keep yourself from knocking a tooth out

“y/n!” jimin snaps out of his intense concentration when he sees you stumble into the room behind him in the mirror, turning to look at you with wide eyes before hurrying over to the stereo to turn the music off, “are you alright??”

“fine! i-i’m fine- i’m good-” you sneakers squeak against the ground as you scramble to your feet, glancing back to glare at a very smug-looking seulgi

why is she always getting you into these situations?!

…how do you always let her get you into these situations?!

“i’m so sorry for… i… um…”

you know this isn’t the first time you’ve seen his skin glisten with sweat but something about the way the light is hitting jimin is making you feel a little lightheaded

the corner of jimin’s mouth curls into a knowing smirk when he notices the way your eyes lower from his face to his body, “i was… you see, i-”

“you were…” he coos mockingly, tilting his head as he makes his way back over to you, “you were what, bab-”

“the girls!” you interrupt frantically, stepping aside to gesture towards the large group of girls still crowded by the door, “the- the girls wanted me to- uh, they wanted me to ask you a question so i- that’s why i’m in here.”

jimin’s face pales slightly when he notices the girls standing by the door

whoops

“oh, of course!” he clears his throat loudly before taking a step back from you, the two of you exchanging panicked glances before he bends down to pick his shirt up, “what was the question?” he slides his shirt back on

“there’s no question, sir-” seulgi chimes in before pausing for a second, “however, as the obvious group leader here, i’d like to say on behalf of everyone that you are very welcome to demonstrate this dance in class if you’d like-”

the girls immediately burst into laughter and jimin snorts before reaching up to scratch the back of his neck bashfully

“very funny, ladies-” jimin shakes his head before gesturing for everyone to go, “go and get out of here! i’ll see all of you next week-”

“have a good weekend, mr. park!”

“goodbye, mr. park!”

“bye, mr. park!!”

you wait until you hear everyone’s voices drift further and further away before scurrying over to the door and peering around it to make sure no one’s around

“coast is clear.” you let out a breath of relief to see that the hallway is empty before turning around to- “oh!” you jump when you end up bumping right into jimin, stumbling back a little before reaching out to press your hand flat against his chest so you can shove him back into the room, “what is the matter with you?? you already know all the people here drool over you on a daily basis and you still go around half-naked and- and thrust your hips like that-”

“what, you didn’t like it?” jimin teases, wrapping his fingers around your wrist so he can pull your hand down and slide it underneath his shirt

“hey-” you feel your entire face flush the moment your hand comes into contact with the ridges of his firm abdomen and you slip your hand out quickly, jimin laughing at your reaction before reaching up to pinch your cheek

“all i’m saying is that you weren’t exactly against my thrusting last night, miss y/l/n-”

“jimin!”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits just like this one!)

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