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itoshiexx · 9 months

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perfect

synopsis: rin remembers how perfect you are for him.

pairing: itoshi rin x afab!reader | words: 2.6k | warnings: established relationship, afab reader (referred to as "girl"), pet names (baby, pretty, love), fluff, smut, oral + fingering (reader receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, praising!!!, emotional sex

notes: i really wasn't gonna post this today but i'm EAGER. this is my first attempt at writing smut in english so pls be kind lol idk if this is good or like the worst shit ever. this is kind of a part 2 for this so i recommend you read it :))

masterlist

people could say itoshi rin was many things: cold, distant, a soccer star, a fan of horror, the number one. and he agreed with all of these. but he was also passionate, extremely determined and, most of all, hopelessly in love with you. and even though he was cold and distant, that was not the case when it came to your relationship.

with you, rin showed all of that passion and determination by loving you in his own gentle way, always so full of devotion, pouring every ounce of the overflowing feelings he harbored in his chest for you only. because he did feel — and intensely, at last. that’s why he always wanted to make you feel happy, and safe, and loved. he wanted you to be confident and to value yourself just as much as he valued you.

that’s why sex with rin felt like some divine moment.

as you stand there, dumbfounded with the proximity and his words, he takes the opportunity to close the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that makes you melt in his arms almost instantly. he has this weird effect on you; one that makes you surrender all that you are to him until you become one.

“will you let me?” he murmured once you separated, sounding a little breathless. you, on the other hand, were a dizzying mess, unable to form coherent sentences with the way the air got knocked out of your lungs.

“w-what…?” you stutter, and rin’s little smirk makes your legs shake.

“will you let me show you how much i love you? how much i cherish you?”

you’re pretty sure your heart stops for a few seconds before it races inside your chest like an orchestra. a tiny nod is the only answer you can muster, but rin’s not satisfied.

“use your words, pretty.” he backs away, and, dreading any further distance, you’re quick to say “yes!” in a slightly pitched voice. rin smiles in that delicate way he only does around you, and his thumbs trace small circles on your waist as he hums, “good girl”.

you feel goosebumps as one of his hands goes up, tracing the curve of your body until it rests on your cheek, and then his mouth is on yours again, more demanding, trying to absorb all that you are willing to give. his tongue invades your mouth, and you moan when his wet muscle laces with yours in a lewd dance. your hands fly to the nape of his neck, where you tug at the black strands of hair, and the way he groans sends a shiver down your spine and spreads heat to the middle of your legs.

but you still have a little bit of rationality left, so you gently push him apart to say, “we’re gonna miss dinner if we keep going,” even if your uneven breathing says how much you want to keep going. however, rin is also very stubborn, and, (un)fortunately, knows your body very well.

“we can just reschedule,” he states, simply. “i think right now this is more important.”

you still try to reason, “baby, we can have sex any time…”

“it’s not about the sex.” he frowns. “i want you to remember how precious you are.” a gentle kiss on your jaw. “i want to worship you.” another, and then one more at your neck. it’s unconscious, the way you slightly turn your head to give him more access. “i want you to feel so much more than pretty. i want you to feel beautiful.”

if the tender nibs and the open mouthed kisses he leaves on the column of your throat aren’t enough to overwhelm you, his words sure can. there is no ounce of strength in your body to fight him anymore, so your answer comes in the form of a needy kiss, tugging at the collar of his shirt so he can be closer, because there was never such a thing as close enough. rin relishes in the way you eagerly try to devour him, more than happy to give you all of him.

he was only ever yours to begin with.

and he makes sure you know by matching your kisses with just as much fervor, tugging at your waist until he can grind his growing need on your core, wanting you to feel just how much he desires you. it’s not a surprise he is rock hard in his pants, but this is all about you, so he can wait. he will wait until you are beneath him, writhing in pleasure to the point he’s all you can think about.

rin is caring when slowly he pushes you to the bed, being careful not to put all his weight on you. his knee finds home in the middle of your legs, and he feels lightheaded with the way you grind against it, already desperate for some kind of friction.

his lips go back to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to your collarbone. you can feel the plushness of his pink flesh softly hover over your skin, and it lights up as if something is dancing beneath it, this sort of giddy feeling that staggers you. it’s always there whenever rin touches you, though you can’t say you don’t love it.

then, he’s sucking the mound of one of your breasts, while his hand is occupied fondling the other. it leaves a faint purple bruise on your skin, but you can’t find it in you to care — instead, you whine in approval, wishing for more of the feeling of his teeth grazing you, eager to bear his possessive marks. the stream of hickeys he leaves around your tits also makes you a little greedy, and you want to scream to make him take off your bra and give attention to your perky nipples.

and rin is excellent at reading things. on the field, it was an admirable trait by both teammates and rivals, used as a powerful tool for his goals and more often than not leading his team to victory. in your relationship, it made you feel all warm and fuzzy, the way he was so observant to your needs and the little quirks that made you so you. in bed, it felt a lot like salvation, for he was always aware of what you wanted and needed, sometimes even before you did.

the first flick of his tongue on your bud nearly makes you wail, and you can almost feel the smirk forming on his stupidly handsome face. “needy, aren’t you?” he coos, though it holds no bite. you are ready to retort, but any words die in your mouth when he licks again, circling your areola and gently scraping his teeth at your nipple.

he gives both your tits the attention they deserve, and by the time rin is done, your arousal is already pooling on your panties, leaving you squirming on the bed while touching every part of him you could reach. suddenly, you become conscious that he’s still dressed, so you take it as a challenge to unbutton his shirt until you can finally see his toned torso.

“baby…” he sighs when you scrape your nails through his chest, all the way down to his perfect abs. before you can reach his pants, however, he separates from you, taking off the shirt that was bothering him.

his hand laces with yours. “not yet.”

but you are impatient. you need him so, so bad it actually hurts. the ache in your pussy can only be solved when his cock splits you open, and for a moment, you seriously consider telepathy, but his voice in your head burns like a fresh memory. use your words, pretty. i like to hear you.

and who are you to deny your boyfriend?

“rinnie,” you whisper, “please.”

“hm? please what?” he arches his eyebrow, hands squeezing your hips.

you bite your lower lips, embarrassed, but answer nonetheless, “please fuck me.”

rin flashes you a bright grin that can rival the sun, and he kisses you once more as a reward, all while his hands slowly descend to your thighs, taking your panties off along the way. he feels impossibly harder when he sees the strings of your arousal on the fabric, moreso when you open your legs for him to see your quivering hole that’s just dying to be filled by him.

“fuck, look at you…” he groans, sliding his fingers through your folds. your moans are the sweetest sound he ever heard. “so wet. so pretty. all for me, hm?”

“yes, baby, yes… please, hah— please!” you whine, slightly desperate. he curls one finger inside of you, and you could almost cry. it feels good, so good, but it’s not enough. “m-more… need more!”

rin is feeling generous, so he attends to your pleas by shoving three fingers at once. you wail at the pleasure of having more of him, his long digits hitting your sweet spots in ways you never could.

“taking my fingers so well, love,” he whispers in your ear. “you’re so pretty. my pretty girl.”

you shudder with the praise, clenching around his fingers and feeling closer than ever when he uses his thumb to start rubbing your clit. it doesn’t take much time to be hit with your orgasm, one that leaves your whole body trembling and gives rin one of his favorite sights.

beautiful.

he doesn’t even let you say anything, kissing you again, prodding his tongue inside your mouth and muffling any surprised gasps by the sudden invasion. rin’s wet muscle laces with yours in a slow, sensual dance that makes both of you moan in union, the sound traveling all the way down and keeping your arousal alive.

he keeps going until the lack of air forces you to part. you’re panting, but your eyes search for his teal ones, always a pretty shade of aquamarine that makes you crumble. when you see the hazy look on his orbs, you’re sure he will take out his cock and fuck you already, but instead he starts giving little kisses down your tummy, all the way to your inner thighs.

“don’t tease,” you whimper. “just get inside me alread— ah!” you scream when his tongue makes contact with your sensitive clit. rin licks a long stripe along your folds that makes you quiver and shut up.

“wanna taste you first, pretty.” his eyes find yours, “please?”

and, again, who are you to deny your boyfriend?

especially when he says it like that.

so you agree, and rin eagerly goes down on you, slurping through your wet pussy like that’s all he needs to survive. he prods his tongue inside you, in and out, motioning the movement his dick should be making, and you take a moment to realize he is rutting his hips on the mattress every time he does.

then, he laps at your clit once again, twirling his tongue in circular motions that make your eyes roll back and your toes curl. you can barely contain your moans, tugging at his hair and crying out loud when his satisfied groan sends vibrations to your nerves.

his flow becomes quicker, sloppier, and the wet sounds are so lewd that you can feel your second orgasm building up in that familiar tingling feeling that sends you to the edge.

“baby, baby… ‘m cumming, ‘m gonna cum…!” you cry, gripping the bed sheets like your life depends on it.

that’s all the incentive he needs to keep on going, sweeping his tongue on your bud until he can taste the familiar flavor of you cum and sense your thighs almost crushing his head.

he’d die a happy man.

your body goes limp, and you’re gasping for air like you’d just ran a marathon. rin hovers over you to appreciate the scene, and with the way his cock twitches inside his boxers, rin thinks he appreciates this — making you come undone — a little too much. he’s sure his tip is red and leaking pre.

he gives you some time to recover by slowly unbuckling his belt, taking off his pants and throwing them somewhere on the floor. his boxers go next, and just like he thought, the spongy head of his dick is swollen and in desperate need of relief.

he said he would wait until you were beneath him, writhing in pleasure to the point he’s all you could think about, before giving him some attention. so he doesn’t stop you from putting your hands around his girth, hissing when you pump him a few times.

your eyes are blurry, but they look up at him with so much love and desire he could very much cum right there. god, how much he fucking loves you. it’s honestly ridiculous.

rin lets you pull him closer and cage him with your legs behind his hips.

“ready, baby?” he asks, as if you aren’t aching for his cock.

“god, please— i need you. i need you inside of me,” you all but wail.

rin thrusts into you at once, and you nearly lose your mind.

he’s long and thick, reaching all of your swollen spots without much effort. you can feel his veins dragging along your walls, creating even more friction, unconsciously rolling your hips to get more of this feeling. rin moans in your ear, and he does it again when you squeeze him tighter.

“always so tight f’me,” he sighs, dreamily. “god, you are perfect. you are perfection itself, baby.”

“rin, rin…!” is all you can muster to say.

he presses you harder on the mattress, rutting into your cunt and relishing at the feeling of your velvet walls sucking him in and gripping his shaft like a vice. you’re scraping your nails along his back and shoulders, looking for grounding, but he keeps pounding the head of his cock in that one specific spot that makes you see not only stars, but whole galaxies.

“rin, rinnie, p-please… r-righ— right there!”

at this point you are babbling nonsense, rin being the only thing on your mind as you chase your third orgasm of the night. “fuck, pretty…” he curses, feeling the neglected coil on his lower abdomen threatening to snap. he can’t really help it, though. you feel too good. too perfect.

and all his.

the constant bullying of his cock on your sweetest spot, the overwhelming feelings inside you and the sweet praises given by your boyfriend on you ear make you come apart, and you scream with the devastating pleasure that seeps through your whole body, like you’re floating on cloud nine. rin hisses when your walls clench him tighter, and seeing you reach your high gets him to spill his load inside of you, finally getting his much deserved release with white hot spurts on your warm core. he fucks both of you throughout your orgasms, and when you start to feel a bit overstimulated, you wiggle him out of you, snapping him from his daze. he collapses.

the familiar weight of his body on top of yours is comforting, along with the soft tune of his breathing on the crook of your neck. you scratch his scalp lightly, your other hand patting his back oh so lovingly. he’s so happy — to have you, to feel you, to love you.

“i hope you never doubt how beautiful and amazing you are, love,” he whispers, not daring to break the silence.

you say nothing, embracing him tighter. your silent thank you.

“but if you ever forget,” he continues, taking you by surprise, “i’m always here to remind you.”

tagging @doobea and @auratux bc they voted for this

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gredandforgeweatherby · 11 months

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All the Way Across the Country?

Ben Gross x reader

WC: 825 Warnings: None, just fluff. Nothing romantic between Devi and Ben has happened for the sake of this fic (dw I'm team Benvi 100% :)) I do not own any of the dialogue from Never Have I Ever, I am just writing about Ben Gross because no one else will, please do not sue me.

A/N: This is not proofread, and the ending kinda sucks, but I really couldn't figure out how to end it. I hope you still enjoy <3

It was the night before you and all your friends left for college. Last night, you, Fabiola, and Eleanor had what was supposed to be your last hurrah, but Devi's grandmother invited you guys to her wedding the next night. She actually invited all of Devi's friends. You were excited you were going to have one last night with your friends before everyone left, though there was one person missing: Ben.

Ben left for an internship in New York right after graduation, and while you were happy that he got the opportunity, you wished you had been able to see him again before he left.

While Devi and Ben's relationship was based on academic validation and rivalry, your and Ben's relationship differed. You and Ben were friendly with each other through Devi and Ben's rivalry, (sometimes bothering Devi in the process. "You're supposed to be my right-hand girl not canoodling with my nemesis!). Though Devi and Ben often time butt heads, that somehow never got in between your and Ben's friendship. Eventually, your feeling turned into more than platonic, and you could never tell if Ben felt the same. The two of you would kiss, but neither of you would bring it up ever again. You because you were afraid of ruining the friendship and making it awkward, and he because he was afraid you would reject him.

The two of you had never been great at talking about your feelings.

¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤

You and all your friends, sans Devi, were sitting at a table playing a game of never have I ever.

Alright, never have I ever hooked up in my bestie's bed." Eleanor said, her gaze directed at Fabiola.

She and Fabiola met each other's gaze, and Fabiola's mouth hung wide open, a look of faux betrayal on her face.

"Fabiola you better pick up that damn cup," Eleanor said, her eyes narrowed at the girl in question.

Fabiola obliged.

Everyone gasped in surprise while you spoke up.

"Woah, woah, woah, whose bed?" You questioned, hoping that your name didn't fall from her mouth.

"Remember that party Devi had where she two-timed Paxton and he got hit by a car and his swimming career was over?" Fabiola questioned.

Chuckling a bit, you nodded. "Yup, everyone remembers that. How could you not?"

"Me and Eve had a make-out session on her bed."

Yours, Aneesa's, and Paxton's mouths dropped in surprise, while Eleanor and Trent looked at each other excitedly.

"Wow."

"Damn."

"You think she'd be mad if she found out?" Fabiola questioned.

"Well, I guess I should also drink," Trent spoke up. Paxton questioned why.

"I definitely had a couple of solo seshes on your futon." This, once again, made everyone gasp in surprise (and probably a bit of disgust).

While Trent and Paxton were talking about Trent's "solo seshes", Devi came over to you.

"Hey Y/N, I need your help with something in my room."

Thinking it was another way for your friends to sneak alcohol like you, Fab, Eleanor, and Devi did earlier, you didn't question it. You followed her to her room while she was talking nonsense the whole time. As the two of you were rounding the corner to her room, you felt her hands on your back give you a push into her room. Confused, you turned around to question her when you noticed someone in there.

"Ben?" You questioned. "What are you doing here?"

He was standing by Devi's window in a sweatshirt and jeans looking a bit bewildered.

"Uh, yeah, it's weird," he began, " Uh, well, I was in New York, and Devi mentioned that her pati invited all of us to her wedding and all of a sudden, I got this feeling that I needed to tell you that I... like you."

You chuckled lightly. "You flew all across the country to tell me you like me?"

"Well, yeah. Uh," he seemed conflicted with what to say next. "Actually," he chuckled, "I think I love you, y/n."

You stood there, not quite believing this was happening. "What?" You breathed out.

"I love you."

Hearing those words fall from his mouth made you realize this was real. This was Ben Gross, who hoped on a cross-country flight the night before you left for school to tell you he loved you.

"I love you too Ben."

The two of you smiled at each other before he suggested you guys left. You grabbed your things, (that were luckily in Devi's house and not in the tent,) and guided him to your car, driving to his house. The two of you made it to his room before your lips met.

¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤

You and Ben spent the night together, deciding to try and date during the semester. You were both going to be in New York-- him obviously at Columbia and you at Cornell, you guys could totally make it work.

And the two of you certainly did.

#never have i ever #never have i ever netflix #netflix #ben gross #devi vishwakumar #ben gross x reader #ben gross x you #never have i ever x reader #paxton hall yoshida #benvi

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midgardianweasley · 3 years

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The Royal Ball

Loki laufeyson x Fem!reader

Summary: There is an Asgard ball being hosted in the palace, Y/N is yet to find a date to accompany her. She’s disappointed when a certain God doesn’t ask her, however, what happens when he sees someone else getting a little too close for comfort throughout the night?

Warnings: lil bit angsty, self doubt, JEALOUS LOKI, fluffy ending

Word Count: 3.3k

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Requests are open loves <3

Y/F/N - Your Friend’s Name

It was a beautiful autumn’s day, crisp brown leaves were falling off of the large trees in the courtyard and scattering the cobbled ground. Loki and I had been wandering around for some time now, discussing everything from the books we’ve been reading to the dreams that have come to us in our sleep.

“And then this huge ghost thing was chasing me around the halls! and if that wasn’t weird enough, you popped up-”

“Ah, seeing me in your dreams are we, darling?” Loki chuckled, taking great pleasure at the fact that he had made an appearance in my subconscious, completely ignoring my distress at being chased by a supernatural being.

“Funny you should say that, right after seeing you, I woke up. The sight must’ve given me quite the scare.” I scoffed, a smile unable to stop itself from making its way onto my face, eyes meeting his, face etched with shock. With a hand to his chest, he spoke again in disbelief.

“You have truly offended me, love. I never knew you had this side to you.”

“What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.” I winked, nudging his side slightly with my elbow.

“Really? Can you produce illusions?”

“No.”

“Look inside other people’s heads?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Turn yourself into a snake to scare your eight year old brother?”

“I still can’t believe you did that”

“My greatest achievement yet.” He smirked, the memory never failing to amuse him.

His stories always had me in awe of his capabilities, even if it was to give his brother a long-term fear, it was still an incredible talent. Whenever he tells me of his latest adventures or tricks, I always think of how well his title fits him. God of Mischief. Maybe that’s why I liked him much more than what a best friend should, not that I'd ever admit it. Not to him anyway.

We soon found ourselves standing next to one of the windows of the hallway, the crystal clear glass giving a beautiful view of the city of Asgard. From here, you could see the Queen’s gardens, full of flowers in all different colours and types, grass cut to perfection. You could see the families in the town, walking around the different buildings, children playing. It was lovely to watch, seeing everyone enjoy the seasonal weather and the light bounce off of the windows, it was ethereal.

“I never get tired of this.” I sighed, voice only slightly above a whisper

“Tired of what, love?”

“Just, this. This view, this kingdom, it’s incredible.” I looked up at Loki, trying to see if he was seeing the same beauty that I did. He was already looking at me when I met his eyes and upon seeing the way they sparkled, I assumed he did.

“Actually, speaking of the Kingdom, I have something to tell you. There’s-”

Abruptly stopping him from continuing his sentence, voices were heard from the other end of the hallway, though we couldn’t make out the words until they came closer. We gave each other a quick look of confusion before turning to see where the commotion was coming from, hearing the quick and heavy footsteps before being able to put names to the faces.

“Loki! Y/N!” A deep voice bellowed. Was that Thor making all of that noise?

Before I could process any more information, a blur of a pastel pink dress was in my face and hands were placed on my shoulders. I smiled down at the slightly out of breath figure using me as a support stand, it was Y/F/N.

“Wow, Y/F/N, you sound much different than when I spoke to you yesterday, did you drink something funny?” I chuckled, receiving a glare from my friend and a quiet laugh from the God beside me. Thor soon appeared next to Y/F/N, hands on his hips and head thrown back as he tried to compose himself.

“My God, Y/F/N, you run fast.” He pants.

“Care to tell us why you’re both running like madmen through the palace?” Loki speaks, one eyebrow raised in curiosity and what looked a little like concern.

“We..had to..tell you..there’s a ball..next week.” Y/F/N spoke, a bit more stable now, but still in between breaths.

I felt my eyes widen, a ball? I didn’t know Asgard held balls.

“Father is opening up the palace next week to neighbouring kingdoms, in hopes to be closer with them, open Asgard up to more trade opportunities, build relationships and whatnot.” Thor explained, emitting a loud sigh to come from Loki.

“I was just about to tell her, brother. Thank you for interrupting.” He rolled his eyes, half joking, half serious. I reached up and patted his shoulder gently, a small smile on my face.

“Maybe next time Lok” He nodded in response, I didn’t get a chance to comfort him much more before I was being pulled away by Y/F/N. With a small huff of surprise, I gave Loki a glance, silently apologising for our conversation being cut short, receiving a shake of his head in reply, affirming me to not worry about it.

“So.” she begins. “We need to find you a date and a dress. I’m thinking blue. I’m wearing purple so it’s probably best to avoid that one. Hmm. let’s see..oh! I know! we could- Y/N? You listening?” I snapped my head around, not missing the sly smile that was plastered all over my friend’s face.

“Y/F/N, don’t-”

“Loki! He has to be your date. You could wear green and match! If he’s even going to wear green, I'm sure I can get Thor to find out, I assume they’ll get ready together. And black accessories! I have so many ideas.” She clapped her hands, over-excited about the opportunity to plan this evening for us. Except for one minor detail.

“That sounds great, Y/F/N, it sounds wonderful, you’re just missing something.”

“Missing something? Oh, if you mean our hair then i’ve already-”

“No, not our hair. Loki hasn’t asked me, and I doubt he will.” I spoke, the second half coming out more as a whisper, my heart dropping a little at the thought. He’d never really expressed having those kinds of feelings for me and I'd always seen him be close with different girls around the palace, he’ll probably ask one of them.

“He might ask you, you never know what’s around the corner.”

“I guess so, we’ll have to wait and see.”

And that was the last we spoke of it before she went into full planner mode again, while I continued to ponder over all of the thoughts running through my head. I mean, he could ask me, right?

--------------------------

He didn’t.

After talking about it with Y/F/N, I had a glimmer of hope that maybe I was wrong, maybe I hadn’t noticed something that she had, that Loki would approach me and ask me to be his company for the evening.

I spent the next couple of days with him, hoping he would ask me, everytime a pause would appear in conversation, maybe he was finally going to do it. And everytime, a little bit of the hope I had, had fizzled out.

I’d even considered other reasons as to why he hadn’t asked, maybe the King didn’t want him and Thor to have dates so that they could mingle with members of the other kingdoms. Of course that theory had flown right out one of the Palace’s windows when Y/F/N told me that Thor was going to be her date. I was right then, he wasn’t wanting to go with me.

I guess I understood, I’m the best friend, we’d always been that. I think a part of me just thought that maybe he, like me, wanted something a little more. Clearly, I was mistaken.

Y/F/N and I had been getting ready for a while now, our hair was styled to perfection, our dresses were on and both of us were fully accessorized. We were looking at ourselves in the mirror, doing spins and curtseys and gushing over how good the other looked.

“You look amazing tonight, Y/N, really. Loki is missing out.”

“Thank you, and I'm sure his date is beautiful.” I spoke, fidgeting with the fabric of my dress, trying to avoid the subject and the twisting knot in my stomach at the thought of him with someone else all night. “You look incredible! You were right to pick purple, it’s definitely your colour.”

“Y/N’s right, you look gorgeous.” Thor declared, leaning against the doorway sporting a black suit and a dark purple tie, the perfect match with his date’s dress. I could feel my eyes light up when seeing how happy the simple, yet effective comment had made Y/F/N. Rushing over, she engulfed Thor in a hug before leaning up slightly and giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Ah and can’t forget, Y/N, you look stunning tonight.” He gestured to me, arm almost scanning me up and down.

“Stop, you’ll make me blush.” I laughed. “You both head off, I’ll catch up.”

“Are you sure? We don’t mind waiting?” Y/F/N questioned.

“Don’t be silly. You guys go on ahead, I'll meet you there.”

With a nod and a wave, they were off. They really did look like a perfect match tonight. I continued to look at myself in the mirror, fixing any stray hairs, flattening any kinks in my dress. Realistically, I was probably trying to prolong leaving for as long as I could. I was excited, but I was turning up on my own while everyone else had someone, it was a bit nerve-wracking. I still wanted to look my best though.

“Stop trying to convince yourself that you look good, you could literally blow an army of men away by looks alone.” A voice spoke, I spun to see who was speaking, the flash of green was enough to decipher who it was.

“You look lovely tonight, darling.” He grinned, the pet name had set off butterflies in my stomach.

“Thank you. As do you.”

“Well, I did put in an effort, nice to know it’s appreciated.” He joked, a breathy laugh left my lips, entertained by his words.

“Yes, well, I'm sure plenty of others will too.”

“The eyes will never leave me, I'm sure. Unless they’re on you, then I'd be surprised if I get even so much as a glimpse in my direction. Someone is a very lucky guy tonight, that’s for sure.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, confused by his statement.

“Well, they get to be beside you all evening, it’s a beautiful view.” He winked.

It could’ve been you, I thought. I knew he was joking, however that didn’t stop the fire in me from igniting.

“I could say the same for you, someone is a very lucky girl.”

“I’ll be sure to let her know if she ever thinks otherwise.” Joking, again.

So he had asked someone. Albeit disappointed, I'm happy he’s happy. Though I still wish I was the girl in question, I couldn't stop him if he was interested in someone else. That wasn’t fair.

Giving him a brief nod and a tight lipped smile, I picked up the front of my dress a little bit and made my way out of the room and downstairs to the ball. I could still enjoy myself, the night is young, I've got this.

------------------

“It was crazy! And let me tell you, my dad was so angry with me. He didn’t let me serve Turkey again after that year.” Charlie, a guy that I had met an hour or so ago, finished his story of the Christmas horror he had, allowing me to relax for the first time that evening. Up until now, it had felt like all I’d seen was either happy couples, or stares from across the room. Usually the second and usually Loki. The same Loki who had a girl’s arm linked with his and was looking at him like he held the world in his grasp. I broke the gaze, finding it difficult to look at the pair for any longer, as I turned back to Charlie so he could have my attention again, a lazy smile was present as he took a sip of his wine.

“I don’t blame him, really, it sounds like you started a riot!” I exclaimed, sending us both into a full on belly laugh, thinking back to the story. This continued for another five or so minutes, laughter turning into a low chuckle, as if we were about to be told off for how loud we were being. Just as my hand had reached his arm to help hold me up, saving me from laughing myself into the ground, Loki and his date had made their way over.

“Enjoying ourselves, I hope?” He beamed, taking one look at me before giving his full attention to Charlie.

“Yes, yes we are, thank you. How about the two of you?”

“Ye-”

“It’s been fine, yeah, good. So, what’s your name then?” Loki interrupted, his date having no choice but to leave him to respond instead.

“I’m Charlie Fernsby.” He held his hand out, greeting Loki. A gesture that was very awkwardly not reciprocated as he let his hand fall back to his side before Loki spoke up again.

“Charlie..Charlie, now, isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“Loki!” I scolded, giving him an evil side glance, what was he doing?

“No, no it’s okay. Yeah, it can be used for girls too, but it's common for boys to have the name Charlie.” Polite as ever, he responded. A mischievous look made its way onto the God’s face. Oh no.

“So, I take it your parents wanted a girl?”

“I- I’m sorry?”

“I assume your parents wanted a girl, considering they’ve given you a girl’s name?” I rolled my eyes, this teasing was unnecessary.

“Charlie, let’s go and get a drink.” I tried to tug him away, only to be halted by another sentence leaving my best friend’s mouth.

“It was only a question, I'm sure he doesn’t mind answering, do you Carl?”

“Charlie.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said-” I tried to interject, but he was quick to stop me

“I know what I said, Y/N, but I'm speaking to him. Let him answer the question.”

Loki’s date was long gone by now, she’d left to speak to another group of people, presumably another few couples, leaving us three to have this discussion, thing, whatever you would think to call it.

“I’m just saying, maybe they would’ve preferred a daughter, seeing as they’ve very obviously made that clear.” He beamed, expecting me to join in and agree with him, I don’t find this funny. At all.

“Can you excuse us, Charlie? Loki, A word.” I pointed to the door, giving him a look implying for him not to test me.

“I’m in trouble. Wish me luck Carlos.”

“Charlie.”

“I know, that’s what I said.”

I pushed him all the way out the door, into the hallway and round the corner so as not to disturb everyone else’s evening. When I’d made sure there was no one else around, I looked up at the Asgardian, my arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, I wasn’t impressed anymore.

“So, are we out here for some hide or seek, or?”

“What the hell was that in there?!” I raised my voice slightly, his need to always make everything a joke wasn’t working this time. He had his night, his date, he didn’t need to come over and insult mine.

“What was what, darling? I was making conversation.”

“You were making fun of him.”

“No, I showed some concern about his parents choices, that’s all. Friendly advice if anything.” He looked a bit more frustrated with me now, as though he was stating the obvious and it was going over my head. I wasn’t having it this time.

“No, Loki. You weren’t and you know you weren’t. You had your date, she was fine, you were fine-”

“Well-”

“Let me finish. Everything was fine. Until you caught sight of me having a friendly conversation with another guy who wasn’t you. But guess what Lok, I’m allowed to do that! I’m an adult, I can speak with whoever I like!” My arms were all over the place now, my frustration was starting to show itself, it seems I had a bit pent up.

I saw his lips move, I heard something, but it was so quiet I couldn't make it out.

“Speak up, Loki. I can’t hear you.”

“I said, if you think he was just being friendly, you’re clearly out of your mind.”

Is he serious?

“Are you- Loki, you have no right to make a judgement on who and how and why I interact with other people. Not that it should matter to you anyway, you’ve spoken to other women before and I've never said a word or tried to stop you. Why does this matter so much?”

Silence.

“No, please, go on, tell me, enlighten me as to why this bothered you so much tonight, because trust me, I'm dying to know, truly.” I was shouting now, I just wanted answers for his behaviour, I didn’t think it would be this difficult.

His hands had made his way into his trouser pockets, eyes looking everywhere before settling on mine. He looked conflicted, I wanted to drop it when I saw his troubled gaze, but I couldn’t go back in there without an explanation.

“Ple-”

“I like you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, love? That I was so uncomfortable seeing some you get close with some guy that I had to embarrass him in front of you? Something I'm sure my father won’t be so impressed to hear, but there, you’ve got your confession.” His voice had gone much louder than mine, taking me by surprise, so much so that it took me a minute to process what he had said. He liked me?

He turned to leave, I assume because I hadn't said anything for a matter of minutes, but I gently grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards me. I looked up into his eyes again. I was so close that you could see the specs of different colours spotted in them, they were flawless. This view beats the Asgard view anyday.

“Why didn’t you mention this before?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Worried I guess. We’d never spoken of moving past friendship and I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“I’m more than interested, Loki.” I grinned, my smile meeting my eyes, never leaving his.

“Not Chelsey?”

“For the love, it’s Ch-”

I couldn’t say his name, a certain pair of lips had stopped me from doing so. As they molded against mine, my hands went up to tangle themselves in his hair, his hands falling to my waist and pulling me closer, I didn’t even think that could be possible. We pulled away when we needed to catch a breath, foreheads falling against each other, smiles painted on both of our faces.

“I bet I'll be in your dreams again tonight.” He whispered.

“I bet I'll be in yours.”

“Always are, Darling. Always are.”

taglist: @horrorxweasley

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tinyglitterrose · 2 years

Text

I'll let you have it

Part 1, Lashton, boxboy, 18+

Bottom Ashton, Top Luke

Warnings: SMUT

So before I start this is my first time ever trying to write smut, feel free to give me advise :) and also requests are open, dm me for that❤️

and lastly don't like? don't read ;)

---

"Luke?", Ashton shouted.

No response.

"Dude", he said exaggeratedly this time, getting up from the bed, "You've been in there for twenty minutes and I kinda need to pee, you know?"

He knocked on the door repeatedly when there was still no response coming from his band mate.

Ashton sighed. He was getting annoyed.

"I'll come in now."

Luke was barely halfway through a 'no' when Ashton was alreasy standing in the bathroom, his eyes immediately going wide.

Luke rushed to try and hide his middle from his bandmate with his hands, but he knew Ashton had already seen his hard member.

"Couldn't you have locked the door?", he asked, eyes still locked to where the other boys hands now were.

"I - I um", Luke mumbled because maybe he had found Ashton's small stash of toys in his backpack and maybe he had a tiny crush on him and maybe he was hoping that Ashton would eventually come in and see him like this.

Now, though, he thought of this as the stupidest idea ever. Why would he want his bandmate to see him like this? All he had now was humiliation and a confused Ashton boldly staring at him.

Luke knew Ashton was about to make a stupid and on Luke's side embarassing joke when he saw the corners of his lips twitch up. "Do you always take that long?", he asked, now grinning at the tall blonde and finally, finally averting his eyes from Luke's crotch.

Luke sighed. Was he really gonna say this?

Apparently.

"I can't do it lately."

Ashton tilted his head to the side, the smirk falling off his face to make space for a confused expression once again.

"You can't - jerk off?"

Luke nodded, his cheeks burning red.

"Did you hurt your hand or something?", Ashton was so confused. How could one possibly not jerk off when their dick was literally hard?

Luke shook his head now.

"No", his voice was no more than a quiet mumble, "I just - I can't..."

When Ashton just kept staring at him, waiting for him to finish the sentence, Luke took all the confidence he could still find somewhere in the tips of his toes and said: "I can't cum."

"What do you mean you can't cum?"

Luke cringed at the way Ashton said it so loudly.

"Huh?", he then pressed when Luke refused to answer.

"You're gonna laugh at me", he said and if his hands hadn't been busy covering something up he would've started twiddling his fingers.

"I kinda missed the opportunity where I should've laughed, Luke, I think we're way past that.", Ashton answered dryly.

But Luke still didn't answer. This - it was just too embarassing to voice it. Ashton would definitely laugh. Either that or he'd say that Luke's weird or maybe even disgusting.

"Luke", Ashton was not willing to let this go.

"You clearly don't have an erectile dysfunction or anything like that, so what is it, huh?"

"It's nothing!", Luke exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air, before realising what he'd done and quickly bringing them back down.

Ashton giggled. Why would Ashton giggle right now?

Luke stared at him like he had two heads, as the drummer just kept grinning to himself and shaking his head. The curls swung softly and hit his cheeks with every turn of his pretty head as he said: " It clearly isn't nothing, Lukey. You're still hard."

'Yes, because you're fucking attractive and I'm gay and I have a crush on you.', Luke thought.

"So?"

Luke sighed. Again.

There was no way out. He could try and nakedly squeeze past Ashton, but the boy would undoubtedly hold him back or he could give up and accept that Ashton would call him a weirdo in the next minute.

He closed his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath and then mumbled: "I need to be in something and I can't cum when it's just my hand. It isn't enough for me anymore."

Now he would laugh. Now Ashton would slam the door shut behind him and leave their shared hotel room. Now he would call him a weirdo.

But there was silence.

Carefully he squinted one eye open.

Ashton was still standing in front of him. Looking once again at what his hands were covering with an expression that Luke wasn't able to read.

"Huh", he finally said, "I always thought you bottom."

"What?", Luke squeaked. The was the last, very last thing he would've expected Ashton to say.

"I always thought -"

"No,no", Luke had a strong urge to run one of his hands through his hair but as stupid as it sounded, one hand wouldn't be able to cover it, "I understood what you said, but why? Why would you say that, Ash! I just told you something freaking stupid, why aren't you laughing? Or disgusted by me? Or freaking out?"

Ashton didn't acknowledge the lead singer's questions with more than a shrug.

"So what do you plan to do about that?", was what he went for instead.

At this point, Luke felt like his eyes were about to bulge out of his head.

"I mean it's difficult enough to find a gay guy, but also someone who bottoms? Plus we're on tour, you can't have much more than one night stands. And you're not even out, Luke, that makes it even harder!"

"Do you think I'd be here in the bathroom if I didn't know that?", Luke asked, not able to hold back the roll of his eyes.

Another long pause ensued.

And then - then Ashton said something that was completely and utterly confusing and shocking to Luke: "Well, lucky for you, I'm bi."

"You-", he started, "Wait, what?"

"Yea", Ash shrugged nonchalantly, "Thought you might've noticed, but I guess not."

Luke heavlily shook his head. "No, I - I did kind of...have a suspicion? But you said...what?"

"Oooh", Ashton made, getting what Luke was hinting at, "Yea, I'm offering."

Luke gulped.

Just to make sure he understood things correctly he started to ask: "Are you saying -" but Ashton interrupted him: "Yes, Luke, I am offering to let you stick your dick in my butt."

"Holy shit"

That damn giggle again. "I'm not even naked yet."

"I didn't say yes yet.", Luke contered.

"Do you wanna?"

"Say yes?"

"Mhm"

"I umm, I mean..."

Ashton rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'll wait on the bed and if you're not there in the next five minutes I know it's a no and I'll just go to sleep."

Next second, the door of the bathroom had already slammed shut and Luke was left naked with a hard on and a decision to make.

Obviously he wasn't going to let Ashton go to sleep.

But would it be weird? They were such good friends and if they - Luke shook his head. If he thought about all this now the five minutes would be over and he would've lost his chance to fuck his crush.

Somewhat - very - uncoordinatedly he opened the door with one hand, while trying to keep his junk hidden with the other.

Ashton was on the bed as promised and he was scrolling through his phone, laying on his stomach.

Naked.

Entirely naked.

At the sound of the door clicking shut behind Luke he turned his head and grinned at the boy.

"Thought I'd let you get a view and decide if you like it, first.", he said cheekily, obviously talking about the two glorious cheeks that Luke couldn't take his eyes of right now if his life depended on it. He'd die a happy man.

Really happy. His dick twitched beneath his fingers.

---

i'm getting really tired cuz it's half past 1 am but i'm too excited to finally post this so i'm splitting this into two parts and posting the second one tomorrow ❤️

If you read this first imagine of mine, pls let me know what you think and follow me if you want cuz i definitely wanna write more!

#ashton smut #5sos masterlist #5sos gay smut #ashton imagine #ashton irwin smut #fanfic #imagines #5sos imagine #5 seconds of summer #luke 5sos #luke hemming imagines #luke hemmings smut #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin #luke smut #lashton #bottom ashton #top luke

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enhalovebot · 3 years

Text

➸ nishimura riki x reader (gender neutral)

➸ fluff

➸ ˚ ༘⊹ ° . [🧸] ⋆｡˚ - diamond

⤷ forelsket: the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love

you and your friends just got off the rollercoaster you just rode and are now heading to your next ride. however, the ride that your friend suggested is the one that you have always avoided. gyro drop. the first and last time you rode it was 6 years ago and it is definitely a memorable embarassing experience. from feeling as if your soul was about to leave you and vomitting right after the ride, you promised yourself you won't step a foot near there.

"y/n, hey are you okay?" your friend waved her hand in front of your face which caused you to snap out of your thoughts.

"i'm sorry. what were you saying?" you looked at your friends and they started to laugh.

"you really don't like this, do you?" your other friend looked at you, concerned.

"yeah, you know my history with this ride?" you said which caused you and your friends to laugh. "you guys can go ahead, though. i'll just find something to eat."

with that, your friends ran to join the line. you read the waiting time and saw that you had 1 hour to occupy yourself.

you started to wander around the amusement park and passed through different food stands. after a few minutes of walking, you found a cotton candy stand which you immediately rushed to.

you made your order and the worker behind the stand did his "magic" and handed the sweet over to you. however, before you even took the stick from his hand, you laughed receiving a weird look from the worker.

"what are you laughing at?" he laughed nervously.

you took the candy from his hand and paid. "it's not a big deal. your hair is just the same color as the floss." you said while trying to stifle your laughter.

"hey, i like my hair!" he ruffled his hair and laughed again. once he took his hands away, his hair is all messed up. you couldn't help but reach over and fix it. when you realized how close you are, you immediately pulled away.

"thanks. i didn't get your name, by the way." he said.

"oh, my name's y/n. you?"

"riki, but most of my friends call me ni-ki." he extends his arm to shake your hand. he's actually cute. you thought to yourself.

"so what are you doing here alone?" he asked after you let go of each other's hand.

"oh well, i'm here with my friends, but i'm scared of heights so i told them that they could go on without me and here i am."

"why are you at an amusement park if you don't like rollercoasters?" ni-ki laughed again, making you look weird.

"i didn't want to miss an opportunity to see my friends especially that school is starting in a few weeks." ni-ki smiles at your comment.

"that's sweet. trust me, i wouldn't be here if i had a choice. i just need the money at the moment. if i had it my way, i would be an idol right now." he looks at you as if he's committed to something when he told you about his plans.

"i know this is sudden and i just met you but is it alright if i get your number? i'd love to hang out with you soon." he exited the stall he was in and walked to you, phone in hand.

"oh, sure." you reached for your phone and gave him your number.

"thanks." he said while hugging you. "well, i better get back to work. it was nice meeting you, y/n. remember to ring me, i'll be waiting."

your words were stuck to your throat. who knew a boy you just met an hour ago could have so much impact towards you.

you made your way back to the ride where your friends were getting off. from afar, you could already see your friends running up to you to hug you.

"that was the best i've ever been on! you would have loved it, y/n! anyway, what did you do while we were gone?" your friend's face was lit with excitement.

"oh, you know, i just bought cotton candy. we'll have to go back there later." you smiled to yourself.

your friends nodded in agreement and you know that you'll be seeing ni-ki much sooner than you expected.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen blurbs #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen timestamps #enhypen headcanons #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen #enhypen nik #niki x reader #niki imagines #nishimura riki #niki imagine #niki blurbs

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multiple-brainrots · 2 years

Text

the big thing i was working on? this small fic thingy is it

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Carving On The Tree

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

The enemies didn't appear as much, so the crusaders decided to take a break. Joseph drove Jotaro to the hospital, so they could see how Kakyoin's doing. Polnareff and Avdol, on the other hand, really had nothing to do...Other than playing around with their stands, which soon got boring.

They decided to take a walk, or just relax somewhere quiet. They didn't have the time to speak much before, so this was an opportunity they couldn't miss out on.

Walk..walk..step..step... No spot was peaceful enough. Every here-and-there you'd hear a child crying, or an adult screaming about being robbed. After what seemed to be forever, they found a little hill that was away from town.

"Seems decent enough, this might even be our stop", Polnareff exclaimed. Avdol nodded and they sat down.

[AN: conversations will be like the incorrect quotes]

Polnareff: So... How was the healing when- y'know..

Avdol: Not bad. They were really taking care of me, *he moved his bandana(idk what to call it?) to reveal the scar that was on his forehead* see?

Polnareff: Oh, yeah, it looks way better now.

Avdol: Mhm.

Silence, silence and more silence. It was really.. *too* peaceful now. Until a special someone started acting up.

Polnareff: O-Oi! Chariot, where ya going?

Avdol: I didn't know he could do that.

Polnareff: Neither did I?!

Chariot swiftly started carving something onto the tree.

Avdol: What's he doing?

Polnareff: Arghh.. Probably what Sherry used to do.

Avdol: Seems reasonable.

Chariot continued to carve, struggling with his little sword.

Polnareff: Maybe I should help him?

Avdol: Yes. Should I come with you?

Polnareff: Sure!

They headed towards Chariot, who was *still* having problems.

Polnareff: Okay, show me what you wanna crave and I'll do it for you.

Avdol: Hm.. That's weird.. Look at Magician's Red, he's hiding?

Polnareff: Would ya look at that.. Yeah, it's pretty weird.. H-hey, stop tuggin' on my hair..!! I'll help you carve! I just need to find something sharp.

Chariot quickly grabbed the nearest piece of metal and turned Polnareff around.

Polnareff: You could have found that yourself, but no I have to be here too!

Avdol: Tsk, tsk... You should be kind towards your stand.

Polnareff: R-Right...

Chariot soon finished his carvings, and slowly went towards Magician's Red. The stand friends looked at the carving. And, as you know, a Stand and it's owner share feelings and mental stability. Oh, how sweet that was.

Avdol: Wh-What's with this weird feeling..?

Polnareff: I-I thought you'd know..!!

Oblivious faces redder than Magician's Red himself. Soon enough, the stands tapped their owners shoulder.

Polnareff and Avdol: You better explain th--

"P+A=♥"

Polnareff&Avdol: --is....

Silence, again.

Polnareff: WHAT'S TH-THIS ABOUT, CHARIOT???

Avdol tried holding his laugh in, but it wasn't successful.

Avdol: Hahahah!!

Polnareff: What are you laughing a-about??

Avdol: I-It's just funny how-- haha-- it's like you took over Magician's Red and I took over Chariot! The personalities.

Polnareff: Hey, is it the whole hiding thing?! I'm not *that* big of a wim-- What am I even talking about?! I'm not a wimp at all!!

Avdol: Hehe.. Well, are we gonna leave the carving there or?

Polnareff: ....Yes.

Avdol: O-Oh... Alright then...

And just like that... This wonderful friendship turned into something more. Something special...

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

AAA IM REALLY PROUD OF THIS....

#avpol #mohammed avdol #jean pierre polnareff #stardust crusaders #silver chariot #magician's red

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we-love-imagines · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can you do a one shot college au Jotaro x reader? The idea is: all Joestars are brothers and they create a playlist for Jotaro that he'll have to make the reader listen to as a way to confess. All the songs are romantic, except the last one which is an addition from Joseph, Josuke and Jolyne and which would be "E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE", just to embarrass him in front of the reader and also to make a funny moment lolol You are a very talented writer! I'm happy that I found you on tumblr:D

This anon has my heart, you’re so sweet!!! I’m so sorry this took so long!!! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Cursing and lots of fluff!

I Should Have Never Asked For Help

It is a well-known fact among the Joestars that Jotaro is bad with words. Comically so. The only way he’d ever say “I love you,” to the rest of them would be through gritted teeth, pulling his signature black cap over his eyes. They loved him all the same, knowing how he cared for his family deep down, but they all acknowledged how affection was never his strong-suit.

That’s why when Joseph claimed Jotaro had the hots for someone, nobody believed him. Joseph and Jotaro shared a math class at university, and Joseph was picking up on the lingering stares he sent your way during lectures. When you started a study group before finals, he was the first to sign up. Joseph was taken aback when you greeted Jotaro before class, and he didn’t tell you to fuck off. He knew something was up with his little brother, and having no respect for boundaries, he couldn’t help but tease.

Usually huffing in response, Jotaro would brush off his older brother’s teasing. While he did feel something towards you, he certainly didn’t have the means to act on it. Jotaro wasn’t entirely used to the feeling, and he was happy with how things were. As Joseph’s teasing grew more bold and incessant, making kissy faces whenever you were around, Jotaro started to get pissy. Even the lightest of teasing while you were nearby really pushed Jotaro’s buttons.

One day, when Joseph made a comment about catching Jotaro staring at you while you were within earshot, it all boiled over. Jotaro ushered his brother away from you, hiding his blushing face under his hat as he finally admitted to Joseph that he did have a thing for you. Ecstatic, Joseph insisted Jotaro ask you out. Jotaro had thought about it, for sure, but he admitted to his brother he didn’t know how. While girls tended to gravitate towards Jotaro in highschool, he’d never asked anyone out on a proper date before.

Thinking back on how he won Suzie Q over with a mixtape, Joseph got an idea to help his brother. When the pair got home, Joseph pulled out his phone and asked each Joestar sibling their favorite love song, hoping someone’s music taste would overlap with yours. There was a good variety in there, too; some slow, sweet songs picked out by Jonathan and Giorno, some light pop picked out by Josuke, and some fun additions from Jolyne and Joseph himself.

When Jolyne asked what this was for, Joseph confided with her that this was to help Jotaro ask someone out. A mischievous glint appeared in her eye, never missing an opportunity to mess with her older brother. Being pretty active online, Jolyne had become very familiar with Corpse Husband and the millions of fangirls raving about him 24/7, and she’d heard his signature song a handful of times. The edgy, deep-voiced Internet personality kind of reminded her of her brother, so she couldn’t resist pulling his leg a little bit.

Getting a notification on his phone, Jotaro saw that Joseph had sent him the completed playlist. He let out a deep sigh, too nervous to look at the songs they had picked out, and even more nervous to show them to you. Trusting his siblings, just this once, he put his phone down and went to bed.

The next day, Jotaro got up early to meet with you before classes started. He took extra care to get himself ready, brushing his teeth for an extra few seconds and applying slightly more cologne than usual. He was nervous beyond belief, leaving the house without a word to an excited Joseph to find you.

You usually met him inside the library, which housed your study room, but he was surprised to see you standing outside the building. Smiling and waving as you saw him, you motioned for him to follow you inside. Had you been waiting for him?

“How are you, Jojo?” you hum, making your way into the study room and taking your normal seat at the table. Jotaro made a huffing noise and shrugged in response. Warm, morning sunlight poured into the room as you pulled the textbooks from your bag, quickly glancing at your phone to see the other few members of your group couldn’t make it today.

“Looks like it’s just us today,” you sigh to him, opening up your textbook to the bookmarked page, “We left off here last time-”

“-Wait, before we start,” he cut you off, capturing your attention as you readied your materials, “You’re into music, right?”

You chuckled lightly in response, “Who isn’t?”

He gulped, pulling his phone from his pocket as he fiddled around to find where he had saved the playlist. Thank god he had a good poker face, his body a bundle of nerves as he hoped it didn’t show. His only tell were the few beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he turned to face you, showing you his device.

“I made you a playlist,” he stated in almost monotone, trying to hide how his cheeks pinked when your smile widened at his words. Truly taken aback, you couldn’t hide your own blush as you took the phone from his hands, adjusting the screen to see it better in the morning light. The playlist was titled simply, ‘For (y/n)’, but it still made your heart flutter.

“Thank you Jotaro, this is really sweet!” You chime at him, Jotaro only nodding in response, “May I play it?”

Jotaro gulped again. This was it.

“You may.”

You hit play, placing the phone on the table as you quietly thanked Jotaro once again. Slow notes began playing, Jotaro’s nervous ticks showing more, his foot anxiously tapping against the carpet. This song was a cheesy classic, surely a pick by Jonathan: Elvis’s I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You. It was a little on-the-nose for his taste, but he watched as you got an excited glint in your eyes as you recognized the first few bars.

“I love this song!” you chirp, happily grooving along as you begin moving your attention back to your textbook. He nervously wondered if the meaning of the playlist was lost on you. It released the tension in his body, the thought of rejection flying out the window, but he was left with a bit of disappointment in his gut. Ideally, you would have caught on and returned his affections, but that gratification would never come.

You continued to enjoy the music as you worked, quietly singing along as you two quizzed each other on the various concepts. You enjoyed the varied music, some songs slower and others more upbeat. As you continued to listen, you paid more attention to the words- were these songs all romantic?

“I didn’t take you for a sap, Jojo,” you jested, “These are all pretty lovey-dovey!”

“-That’s the point.”

He was surprised with his own boldness, all his nerves returning as he saw your eyes go wide in realization. Quickly going tomato red, your heart thumped in your chest as you put it together that Jotaro was asking you out. While you had developed a little crush on him yourself, you never thought he would ever reciprocate your feelings, let alone make the first move.

“Oh!” you shakily breathe, “This is- wow, this is out of left field!”

“Is this weird?” he hesitantly asked, letting slip a little anxiousness in his voice. Touching his hand, you reach out to him.

“Oh no no no-” you hurriedly reassure, “No! I really like it, Jojo!”

You take a deep breath as you finish your thought.

“I really like you, Jojo!”

With that, he lets slip a breathy sigh from his lips, giving you a rare smile as he reciprocates your touch. He places his thumb over the back of your palm, rubbing a little circle on it as he wipes the sweat from his brow.

“That’s a relief,” he jokingly murmured, sharing a little laugh with you as the song that was playing ended. You both were caught off guard as a new, louder song filled the room.

CHOKE ME LIKE YOU HATE ME BUT YOU LOVE ME-

Immediately he went red again, whispering his annoyed catchphrase to himself as he put his hand to his cap. You couldn’t hold your laughter as the filthy Corpse song filled your ears.

“Now this is more your style!” you tease him, nudging him lightly.

“I didn’t make it alone,” he confesses, giving you a small smile as the shock wore off, “But this is the last time I ask for help.”

I Hope you enjoyed! I also made a playlist based off this fic for my sweet anon:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/06A7aN1LtLYWCDNQs04rGa?si=sYaMp0B4RWK3N3zc62gZow

#jjba x reader #jjba #Jotaro x reader #Jotaro kujo x reader #joestar siblings au #inbox is open!#inbox reply #corpse

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touyasdoll · 3 years

Text

Complicated - Chapter Two

Chapter One: Here

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x reader

Warnings: self-degradation/self-doubt

Word count: 2.2k

A/n: Gonna rework this and ditch the first person POV, jsyk.

A/n pt. 2: This story does contain spoilers for the show/manga. The dates/ages of characters are going to be shifted around a bit.

------------------

It's been two days. Is he gonna call? Text? Completely forget I exist?

I sigh, trying to expel the anxiety balled up in the pit of my stomach.

Why would he call? We talked for, what, five minutes? He seemed older too. You were in your damn school uniform, idiot. He's obviously got more important shit to do than chat up a schoolgirl who can't mind her own fucking business.

"Ugh," I groan to no one but myself in my apartment. "I'm really just the biggest fucking jackass, aren't I?"

Flopping down on my bed, I let out another weighty sigh and bury my face in the plethora of pillows piled beneath me.

Relax. Maybe he'll text. Maybe he won't. And if he doesn't he's just sparing you the embarrassment that you would inevitably bring upon yourself.

A yawn escapes my lips as I feel a wave of drowsiness wash over me. Glancing at the clock, I could see it was hardly 5 PM.

Fucked up sleep schedule, here I come.

The familiar comfort of my bed allows me to quiet my thoughts enough to fall into a shallow sleep, until I'm startled awake by a vibrating sensation coming from underneath my chin.

I blink against the harsh light emitting from my phone, squinting to see who was disturbing me.

What the--oh shit!

It was an unknown number. Recognizing that it could be him, I sit up faster than I have ever managed to after a nap and fumble the phone into my palm, eagerly sliding my thumb across the screen to accept the call.

"Hello?"

My breath hitches and I bite my lip in anticipation as I wait, eager to hear his deep, silky voice on the other end.

But the pause on the other side of the line seems just a little too long. Something is off.

Is this him? Is it..just some creep? A prank? What the hell?

"We've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty."

My eyes slam shut, a shake reverberating through my spine as a cocktail of anger and embarrassment wash over me.

That's it. Hope is off limits from now on.

"Fucking great."

I tap the end button, half ready to throw my phone out the window.

Instead, I decide to check and see if I missed anything else while I was out.

Hope is off limits.

I shake my head, trying to erase the little embers of hope that persist, praying that maybe he did reach out.

To my surprise, there's a text from an unrecognized number.

Unknown: You free tonight, doll?

Holy shit.

Looking above the message, I see: Today 6:58 PM. I wince as I dare to look at the clock, which mercifully reads 7:26 PM.

Tapping the text box, I don't give myself the chance to overthink this opportunity.

Me: For you? Sure thing.

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I nod my head, processing the sudden burst of confidence I seem to have found.

I'm not like this. What is it about this guy? He's just that--a guy. One that I don't know. And now I'm just gonna meet up with him?

He's literally a stranger. Who the hell do I think I am?? Is my vagina just running things now? Gonna run out and meet up with some strange dude, because he's pretty and charming?

You know who else was pretty and charming?? Ted Bundy.

That's right, you said it. This is dumb, logically. This is everything everyone’s ever warned you about.

My phone buzzes and my heart rate spikes in response, tearing me from my spiraling doubts.

Unknown: Our spot. 30 minutes. See you there.

A noise that I've certainly never made before eeks past my lips as I process his instructions.

Fuck it. The possibility of this guy being a serial killer has been assessed. I'm going, risks be damned.

You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot.

I sigh for the umpteenth time today, waging war in my own mind.

I don't know what it is about him, but I have to see him again. Nothing bad is going to happen. It'll be fine.

That's what I tell myself as I exhale, until I catch my reflection.

My hair is disheveled, my mascara askew. I didn't even bother to take off my uniform before I passed out.

As if I weren't flustered enough, now I gotta make myself looking somewhere near presentable and get down there in time.

Here goes nothing.

Fifteen minutes fly by and I think I've managed it as I step back to look myself over in the mirror once more.

The shortest pair of high-waisted shorts I own, paired with a low-cut black crop top and my favorite slip-ons. My make-up doesn't look perfect and there's not much of it, but it's touched up, and my hair is at least brushed.

Okay, no turning back now.

Grabbing my keys, I tuck my phone in my back pocket and make my way to the meeting place.

+++++++++++++++

Our spot. The man is smooth and I think that he knows it.

I re-read the last message he sent for probably the thirteenth time in the past five minutes.

The clock in the corner of the screen reads 8:02.

Maybe he won’t show. Maybe this is a joke. He and his buddies with come around a corner and laugh as they speed off.

Damn, can I chill? No. He’s going to be here. And I’m going to act like a human fucking being. A normal girl. Someone he could like; I’m capable of that.

Aren’t I?

Scanning my surroundings yet again, I take in the scenery. I never really get out at night, but the city looks so pretty this way. There’s not too much traffic, especially considering that it’s a Friday night, but there are some people milling about up and down the sidewalk. Some look like they’re on their way home. Some look like they’re on their way out for a night on the town.

“Hey there.”

My eyes are quick to follow the sound of his voice. I look up and he’s strolling up to the bench where I’m seated, the same one where I bandaged his arm the other day.

His hands are shoved in his front pockets, thumbs pushed through the belt loops of the tight, black jeans he’s sporting. His white t-shirt dangles off of his frame in a way that suits him, offering a glimpse of his muscular chest. A black coat completes his ensemble and he certainly looks the part of the typical bad boy.

But, damn, does it look so good on him.

“Hey, there. How’s the arm?”

I scoot over a bit, allowing for ample space between us if he were to take a seat. To my surprise, he sits towards the middle of the bench, so that his thigh brushes against mine as he settles.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, glancing down and covering the noise I want to make with a quiet clearing of my throat.

“It’s good. You do make a pretty decent nurse, sweetheart.”

He grins and pulls his coat sleeve back, revealing the still bandaged wound.

“Wait, have you changed that?”

You’re such a mom. You better hope he’s into MILFs, because otherwise this ain’t gonna get you where you wanna go, girl.

His brow furrows in an expression that tells me all I need to know before he even speaks.

“What do you mean? Changed what?”

A quiet sigh leaves my lungs as I hold out my hand.

“May I?”

His puzzled expression doesn’t falter, but he shrugs and offers his forearm up for inspection.

Carefully, I pull back the tape holding the bandages together and slowly begin to unwrap them.

That is, until the smell hits me. I barely catch of glimpse of the reddened skin before my nostrils detect the scent of burned flesh and excess viscera.

“Oh, dear. Have you even unwrapped this thing?”

Trying not to agitate anything further, I delicately wrap the bandages back around his arm, taping them down once again.

“No, should I have?”

I look up and my gaze meets his, a sense of true ignorance evident in his expression; I try not to laugh. I really try, but a soft giggle escapes nonetheless.

“Yes! I mean, if it doesn’t hurt, I’m sure it’s not that bad right now, but you should be cleaning and redressing a wound like that once every 12 hours at the very least. It’s been what, like, at least 50 at this point?”

His good arm reaches for the back of his neck, scratching at it as he dons an apologetic half smile.

“Sorry, I’m not exactly nurturing by nature, doll. I don’t know the first fucking thing about this kind shit.”

I cock a sympathetic smile as I look at him, sitting there looking almost helpless. I guess he is, in a sense. It’s actually kinda cute how he doesn’t seem to have an inkling of how to properly care for himself.

Because that’s absolutely what you want in a potential relationship. Someone to fix, how fun! Why not open up a shop for broken boys? Girl, when will you learnnn??

“Well, I don’t have anything on me right now, but if you don’t mind coming back to my place, I could clean it up there? And I’ll teach you how to keep up with it this time.”

I guess not today, motherfucker.

“Coming to my rescue again. You must be in a hero course, huh, doll?”

His smile is so naturally disarming as he stands and offers his hand out before me.

“I don’t mind, if you’re sure you don’t. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable and I don’t wanna be a burden. I didn’t ask you out tonight for you to have to play doctor on me again.”

He seems so sweet, so genuine. Maybe he is broken, but everyone deserves kindness. He looks like he hasn’t seen much of that. And as cliché as it is, maybe I can help him. Maybe he can help me.

I slip my hand in his, smiling as flirtatiously as I can manage as he pulls me to my feet.

“I don’t mind. I was kind of hoping I might get to play doctor on you again anyway. Maybe you could even return the favor.”

I brush my fingers against his as our hands disconnect, taking a page from his own book and watching his expression as my skin glides against his.

Or maybe we could just do this. This works too. No muss, no fuss. But oh my goodness what if what I just did was weird and he’s not even interested??

His eyebrows rise for just a moment as he chuckles and glances down, still grinning as he puts his hands in his coat pockets.

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t know much about medicine, but I do know how to give a pretty thorough physical exam.”

Something twitched deep inside my belly as my breath caught in my throat and I damn near tripped over my own two feet as we started walking.

Thankfully, his reflexes were quicker than my inate ability to fuck things up and his good arm reached out to steady my frame as he stepped in front of me.

The delicious scent of his cologne mingling with remnant cigarette smoke nearly made me dizzy as my hands connected with his chest, now completely unable to ignore the muscles just beneath his thin shirt.

“You all right there, doll?”

Long, slender fingers find their way under my chin. His thumb just barely brushing the edge of my bottom lip as he strokes it over my chin.

His eyes are practically piercing mine as he carefully lifts my face to his. Who knew being in such close proximity to someone so beautiful could be this paralyzing.

Holy fuck. Forget fixing me. He can break me and I’ll probably thank him for it.

The strong hand on the small of my back threatens to rob me of my breath all over again and I have to fight to keep any semblance of composure in his arms.

“Yeah.” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and will myself to break eye contact. “You always have girls falling for you this quickly?”

I pity laugh at my own joke, wishing my quirk was something that would allow me to disappear.

But then he’s chuckling too. It’s melodious at first, but then it morphs into a deep reverberation that sends all the right chills down my spine as I level my eyes with his again.

He looks like an enigma personified. His eyes look so gentle and warm, but his smile reads so sad. The words that leave his lips sound like both a warning and an invitation to my flushe red ears.

“Trust me, princess. You don’t wanna fall for me. I’m no good for you.”

Oh, but it’s too late for that.

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thedollface221b · 3 years

Text

A Touch Of Magic

Pairing - Younger Neville Griffin (Misdirection - Inside No 9)/Original female character (can be read as reader insert)

Rating - Explicit - Over 18s ONLY

Warnings - soft BDSM

Summary - You get a job working as an assistant for a young Magician, but you find yourself fiercely attracted to him. Can you keep your mind on the job, or will lust win out?

Dedicated to the amazing @barkilphedros-hat for being wonderful. I ❤ you!

I searched through all the available jobs pinned on the job centre noticeboard and sighed. Absolutely nothing, yet again. I was just about to give up when I noticed a small, type-written card in the far corner. It read:

“WANTED

Assistant to a young, up and coming Magician.

Must be flexible”

Beneath that, written in red pen as if an afterthought was, in brackets:

“(Both in hours AND body!!)”

Typewritten again for the following:

“Please call Neville Griffin for more details”

Below that were two numbers, which I presumed were his landline and his mobile phone.

Scribbling down the info in my notebook, I resolved to call this Neville Griffin later that day. I had absolutely no experience at being a magician’s assistant but I had always been fascinated by magic ever since I was a little girl, and I was always being teased by my lovers by how amazingly bendy I was in bed – so why not give it a go?

______

After a brief phone call where we spoke only to arrange a meeting place and a time - his warehouse at noon the next day - I was left to wonder what Neville might be like. I couldn’t help but pre-judge him, with a name like Neville he was bound to be a total nerd, or perhaps older than he was letting on. Still, he did have a nice voice...

Whatever, I needed the work and impressing him with my appearance could go a long way... even nerds liked pretty girls and you didn’t often see a plain magician’s assistant, so I needed to look my absolute best. I spent the rest of the evening exfoliating, shaving, deep conditioning my hair, and giving myself a mani-pedi and a facial in preparation for the following day.

Despite my best efforts I slept fitfully, nerves getting the better of me. Putting on a little extra concealer to hide any dark circles my sleepless night may have caused, I finished off my make-up with a pop of cherry-red lipstick. Something a little bit daring and sexy. It paired well with the knee length, floaty red summer dress I was wearing, its sweetheart neckline giving onlookers just a peek of my décolletage.

I arrived at the road the warehouse was situated on a few minutes early so I could scope the place out. ‘Number Nine', I read off the GPS directions on my phone. It was a fairly barren looking alley, the kind of place you’d see on police shows where murders or rapes had taken place. I double checked my bag for my pepper spray and my rape alarm. All set.

Taking a deep breath and fixing a smile in place, I knocked on the door. It took a minute before I heard the heavy, metallic clank of a lock sliding back and the creak of the door opening to finally reveal Neville Griffin.

Oh.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a young, ridiculously good looking guy. His long, brown hair - just reaching his chin - framed a classically handsome face. Azure-blue eyes hid behind wire-rimmed glasses, resting on a strong nose, and his lips were a delicate pink and looked deliciously plump and kissable. He was dressed in a dark blue hoodie worn partially zipped over a red t-shirt, black jeans and a pair of black converse All Stars. All clothes of a typical guy in his late 20s.

“Oh, hello.” he said, his forehead wrinkling in confusion as if he hadn’t expected to be interrupted.

“Hi? I spoke to you on the phone last night, I’m here about the...”

“Oh, the assistant job, of course.” He wiped his hand on his jeans even though it didn’t look particularly dirty. “I’m sorry I was working and lost track of time.”

He held out the hand and I took it. It was warm and soft, with several calluses on his fingers, likely from day after day of practicing card tricks. For a guy of relatively small statue – around 5ft 7 I guessed – and lean build, he had large hands and long, thick fingers. My pussy gave a small, involuntary throb at the thought of what those fingers could do if given the opportunity. His grip was firm and I idly wondered if he was one of those guys who looked slight but was actually deceptively strong. Fuck, I had to stop thinking like that and concentrate on the interview. This guy could potentially be my Boss, not a one-night stand.

“Do come in,” he nodded, standing aside to let me enter the warehouse. It was dark, despite the overhead lighting, and the entire place was cluttered with debris of various magic tricks, boxes, notebooks and unquantifiable detritus. I noticed a zigzag lady in the corner, and a very cool looking guillotine towards the back.

Neville guided us towards two old, shoddy-looking stools placed right in the middle of the room and indicated that I take a seat. I sat up straight, my knees together and my hands placed in my lap. I had read somewhere that it was how Royalty was taught to sit, and that it was supposed to make you look more elegant and sophisticated.

Neville threw himself down on the stool in front of me, our knees almost touching. I could feel the heat emanating from his body, smell his aftershave, which was a musky, woody scent and very sexy. Jesus, I had to stop thinking like that!! Concentrate!!

“OK,” he started, “First off, are you a fan of magic?”

“Oh yes,” I said honestly, “I’ve loved it since I was a little girl.”

From his nod and smile, I figured we were off to a good start. The rest of his questions were pretty easy to answer and we fell into a casual conversation rather than a formal interview. It was looking good.

“And just one more question,” he said finally. “Do you think you can drop ten pounds?”

The flat of my palm made a satisfying crack as it made contact with his cheekbone.

“No!” he cried, clutching at his reddening face. “You misunderstood. It’s because the spaces you have to squeeze yourself into are so tiny. You need to be as small as you can possibly get yourself, that’s all.” He rubbed at his cheek. “I think you look perfect as you are. I mean fine. I mean you look...” He stopped. The other side where I hadn’t slapped was turning red now too.

“Oh.” I dropped my head, kicking myself for losing such a great job in the dying minutes. Talk about clutching defeat from the jaws of victory. “I’m sorry.”

“It's fine.” He stood and offered me his hand again. I stood too and took it.

“Thank you for seeing me.”

“It was no problem. Well, almost no problem. Can you start on Saturday?” he asked, looking almost scared in case I slapped him again.

“You mean you want me?” I asked, shocked. I couldn’t believe that I had still got the job despite screwing up so heinously at the end.

“Yes, I want you. For the job!” he clarified. Together we walked to the door of the warehouse and he showed me out into the filthy alleyway. “Saturday at 4pm. Don’t be late.”

As the door shut behind me I did a little happy dance before setting off to catch my tube. I was going to be a magician’s assistant. What the actual fuck.

_____

I wasn’t really sure what to wear to my first day as a Magician's Assistant, so I just threw on what I normally wore to yoga. Skin-tight lilac leggings with a matching sports bra and a sloppy, cropped vest in baby pink. I chose ballet style trainers as I thought they’d have the most flexibility if I had to do anything particularly bendy. I covered it all with an oversized hoody to keep me relatively decent on the tube. I didn’t fancy having my ass groped by some greasy stranger.

The door to the warehouse was slightly ajar so I just knocked on it, called out a hello and let myself in, unzipping my hoody as I walked through the cluttered space. I tossed it over some boxes out of the way. I didn’t see Neville at first, until I spotted him kneeling beside the guillotine, tightening some screws. He looked good in his dark blue jeans and navy and white striped top and I took a moment to appreciate the view. He didn’t seem to notice me at first so I cleared my throat. Still nothing. I called his name again, louder this time and he jumped, looking up at me with wide eyes, scrambling to get up while simultaneously pulling earbuds from his ears.

“Sorry I didn’t see you... hear you come in.” he said, winding the cord of the earbuds around his phone and setting it on his desk beside him.

“I'm a few minutes early,” I said apologetically.

“No, it’s... fine,” he nodded. I noticed that he was still looking down at the phone he had placed on his desk. I wondered what was so important about it. Especially as it was switched off.

“I didn’t really know what to wear so I hope this is appropriate.” I indicated to my outfit and he gave me a quick glance before looking down again.

“It's fine,” he repeated. OK, so it was going to be like that. Still, if Neville was going to be weird and anti-social it was going to make it a lot easier to not be attracted to him.

“So what are we doing first?” I asked with fake brightness, trying to lighten the mood.

“First things first,” he tapped the table three times with his fingers and then finally deigned to look at me, “Your name. We need to change it.”

“What’s wrong with my name?” I asked indignantly, crossing my arms beneath my breasts. I knew this action would push them up slightly and make them more apparent but to be honest I wasn’t really caring about that at that particular moment. Neville, however, definitely seemed to notice as his eyes widened slightly before he realised himself and forced eye contact again.

“It’s not exactly showbiz, is it? You need something with a bit of spark, a bit of pizazz. So from now on, your name is Miss Ruby Jewel.” He moved his hand through the air as if performing some mystical action.

“Ruby Jewel? It sounds like a fucking porn star, no way!” I shook my head.

“Well, I was thinking more Bond Girl,” Neville sniffed haughtily. “Anyway it's too late now, I’ve already started designing the promotional material. You'll get used to it. Besides, it goes with my ideas for your costume.”

“Oh yes, I meant to ask, where do I get my costume? Is there some sort of dress shop that caters exclusively for Magician’s Assistants?” I enquired, half joking.

“Of course not, you silly girl!” he snapped.

I jumped. While I was shocked at his outburst, I was ashamed to say that a part of me found the dominance in his voice... kind of arousing. A shiver travelled up my spine and I felt my nipples start to harden against the soft fabric of my sports bra.

Oh please God let the two layers of my bra and vest be thick enough so my erect nipples don’t show through.

No such luck. I could see them poking out through my top like two tiny pebbles.

Neville cleared his throat and continued, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been working so many long hours trying to come up with new tricks... I just need something...” He trailed off and turned away for a moment before shaking his head and turning back to me with a smile, as if the previous moment hadn’t just happened.

“There��s a local seamstress who will make your costumes couture. Although we can only afford one for now. I’ve already sent her my design ideas and so I just have to get your measurements and email them to her and she can begin.”

My heart leapt into my throat and my legs almost gave out at hearing him say that. Surely that couldn’t be right. “I’m not going to her to be measured? Isn’t that standard?”

“Doing it this way will save us time and money,” he confirmed, already picking up the tape measure from his desk. “I think you’ll love your costume. It’s going to be ruby red and adorned with lots of sequins and jewels. And you will wear red lipstick like the one you had on during your interview, as that was...” He paused and swallowed hard. “Sufficient.”

“Does it have to be so... gaudy?” I asked, my nose wrinkling in distaste as he measured my height and my body length.

“We need you to be as bright and flashy as possible.” I quivered slightly as he fastened the tape around my waist. We were practically nose to nose, except he was looking down to read the numbers on the tape. I could smell his aftershave again but this time I was close enough to also smell his shampoo and his soap. He smelled clean, with that same woody, musky scent from before, but with a hint of coconut from the shampoo. Heady, sexy and inherently male.

My pussy was throbbing again, despite me telling myself that this was my Boss and nothing could ever happen. Unfortunately my body didn’t want to listen to my brain and continued to send signals of arousal south. I could feel myself getting wet already. Fuck, this was bad.

He whipped the tape away and stood back, and already I missed the heat from his body.

“The reason Magicians use beautiful female assistants in bright outfits,” he began, rolling up the tape, “is because we want the audience to be watching them here...” he waved his empty hand around in the air in front of me, “while the magic is happening over here!” He clicked the fingers of his other hand, then opened it to reveal that the tape had disappeared. “Classic misdirection.”

“I’m impressed!” I laughed, applauding. “OK so where is it?”

He leaned in and for a split second I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead he brought the tape out from behind my ear where it had supposedly been hiding. The disappointment of not being kissed must have shown on my face because he said “What, the old ‘behind the ear’ gag not good enough for you?”

“No, it’s great, really.” I faked a smile. “But we should get on, don’t you think?” I wanted this torture over with as soon as possible. Still, Neville had called me a ‘beautiful assistant’. That was something at least.

“Yes, quite right.” he agreed. “I just need to do your... ah... your top area.”

Wait, did he mean my bust? Was Neville really going to put that mother fucking tape around my breasts? Fuck!

Awkwardly he put his arms around me as I stood frozen to the spot like a statue, my arms stretched out wide either side of me like wings. I didn’t even dare breathe. After fumbling with and dropping the tape twice, he finally got it around the largest part of my breasts, touching the two parts of the tape together as quickly as he could. His knuckles brushed against my still painfully erect nipples so there was no possible way he couldn’t have noticed them. The movement was sending little zings of pleasure through me and I had to clamp my lips shut so as not to accidentally moan out loud.

I noticed that his hands were trembling and when his eyes met mine for a moment I could see how large and dilated his pupils were. Wait a minute... was it possible that he was finding this just as arousing as I was?

“OK, got that,” he mumbled, letting the tape drop to the floor and rushing over to his desk to jot down the details. “I’ll email those details to Sarah tonight and she can get started on your costume first thing tomorrow. I’ll give her your number and she can call you when she wants you to come in for a fitting.”

“Sounds good,” I said, eying up the bottle of whiskey sitting on Neville's desk. God I could really use a drink right now. But that wouldn’t be very professional and I was already walking a very thin tightrope there. Instead I went over to my bag, got my bottled water and took a long slug, hoping it would cool my ardour as well as my body.

The rest of the evening was spent explaining to me how most of his bigger tricks worked and what I would be expected to do as an assistant. I was actually quite excited to begin learning how to perform properly.

“We'll have our first proper rehearsal on Monday, but we’ll take it slow and I’ll just walk you through a few tricks to start with using the actual props,” Neville was saying as he walked me to the door. “Nothing too difficult at the beginning, maybe the zig zag lady, or I could saw you in half, show you the Rope escape...”

“That all sounds great. Well, bye then,” I waved, fighting the urge to grab him and kiss him goodbye.

“Bye, see you on Monday,” he smiled, and my stomach did a backflip.

______

I lay in bed that night thinking back to everything that had happened that evening. Remembering Neville’s touch, the way his knuckles brushed against my sensitive nipples, the intoxicating scent of him. Fucking hell, I was so aroused!! If I didn’t do something to take the edge off I would never sleep. Fumbling in my bedside cabinet I found a small bottle of lube and my trusty rampant rabbit vibrator.

I let my imagination run wild as I switched on the pink silicone device. I closed my eyes and pretended the long, thick dildo section was really Neville's cock as it stretched me open, and the tiny little ‘ears' buzzing rapidly against my clit and sending electric shocks of pleasure through me were really his fingers working me to orgasmic bliss. I recalled his domineering attitude from earlier and quickly made up a fantasy scenario in my head where I kept getting the trick wrong and he was shouting at me that he was going to have to punish me, that every time I made a mistake he was going to have to fuck me until I learned to get it right.

I came hard and fast, his name on my lips.

I felt dirty once the afterglow had worn off, and not the good kind. Neville was my employer and no matter how attracted to him I was, I shouldn’t be getting myself off thinking about him like that. Even if it was the best orgasm I’d had in a long time.

I turned over on my side and fell into a broken, troubled sleep, full of crazy dreams about being sawn in half, and Neville leaving me there, carrying the bottom half of the box away with my bottom half still inside it. OK, surely that had to be some sort of weird sex metaphor.

______

Monday came around quickly and I was back at the warehouse. Despite telling myself I wasn’t interested in impressing Neville, I had dressed in one of my cutest vest tops - a tight black ribbed number - and a short, ice-skater style skirt in a bright, ruby red fabric. It was probably totally impractical for what we would be doing but I figured I could always claim I was trying to match my new name if Neville made any comments about it.

As it turned out he simply gave me a quick glance up and down and then told me he was leaving to run a few errands but would be back soon, and that I should pick up a deck of cards and practice shuffling them while he was out.

After almost 45 minutes I got bored of shuffling and started to poke around the warehouse, snooping in drawers, looking through boxes, peeking in notebooks. Nothing was particularly interesting, until I opened the bottom drawer of his desk. There, hidden amongst papers and decks of cards, was a box of condoms, still unopened in its cellophane wrapper.

Why Neville, you sly dog.

Of course there was nothing to say the box was new. He could have bought them ages ago, stuffed them in there and forgotten about them. They could even be for some kind of trick. But maybe, just maybe, he had bought them since I arrived, and that could be confirmation that he liked me back.

I closed the drawer just in time as Neville came back into the warehouse. “What took you so long?” I pouted. “There’s only so much card shuffling a gal can do.”

“I do expect you to be fully proficient.” He grabbed the cards and shuffled them like I’d only ever seen Blackjack dealers in Casinos do, with lots of fancy cuts and flips. OK, so that was impressive.

“Can we start working on an actual magic trick now?” I wheedled, my hand in a light grip on his arm for that little extra peer pressure.

He was staring at where my fingers massaged the bare skin. It was unusual to see him without his hoody – I remembered he had left wearing it but now he was just in his black t-shirt and light blue Levis.

“Fine, let’s do the rope escape,” he said after a moment. I let go to allow him to cross the warehouse to get the correct prop he’d need. It was a large wooden X style cross about 6 foot in height and behind that was a slightly taller pole. At the top of that pole was another rectangular pole coming off it, rather like one that would hold a shower curtain. Only this pole held a thick, dark blue velvet curtain that could be raised and lowered at will.

“Let me explain how it works,” Neville began, wheeling the entire contraption into place. “You will stand in front of the cross and I will take the rope from where it is already tied off at the back here, loop it around one ankle, then the other, then up to your wrist, then the other, and then back down to tie it off tightly again. A member of the audience can come up to verify you’re securely fastened in.”

We moved around to the back. “But the secret is that this lever here can turn and give you just enough slack to get out. So the trick goes that I tie you up, I pull the curtain up, I twist this and free you and I climb in to take your place, you twist it back to tighten the ropes again and pull the curtain down to reveal that we’ve switched positions.”

He looked at me to make sure I was following. I nodded - it all seemed pretty simple.

“With practice we can get it down to a matter of seconds to make the switch.” He snapped his fingers on the word ‘seconds’ for extra emphasis.

“Can I try?” I asked.

“Of course,” he nodded, almost proudly, as if he was pleased to see that I was so keen. I lined myself up against the cross, both arms in the air and my legs open wide in an X shape. Neville expertly looped the rope around each limb, loosely to begin with. “Are you OK for me to tighten it?” he asked. I gave a quick nod of acquiescence and the rope immediately snapped tight against my wrists and ankles, causing me to let out an involuntary gasp. He tied it off at the back and came around to stand in front of me.

“How does it feel?” he enquired. I noticed his voice was gruffer than before. “Can you free yourself?”

I twisted against the nylon rope in vain. “No, I’m well and truly trapped.” I confirmed. There was nothing I could do to free myself. I was totally at Neville’s mercy. And oh fuck if the thought of that wasn’t a massive turn on. My clit throbbed, and I wondered if I dare push the envelope with Neville. If I was right about the condoms, he wanted something to happen between us and this might be the perfect opportunity to test the waters. But... if I was wrong, I could lose everything.

“I feel so vulnerable like this,” I said breathily, my voice dripping with submissiveness. “You could do absolutely anything to me and I couldn’t stop you.” I sucked in my bottom lip and looked up at him coyly through my lashes.

Neville let out a long, shaky breath and stepped towards me, placing his left hand on my hip.

“Anything?” he asked, his voice cracking a little. We both knew exactly what question was really being asked in that one little word.

“Anything... Sir.” I confirmed. And with that his entire demeanour shifted. Any trace of nerves were gone, and the dominant Neville I so fantasised about took over.

“Do you know the traffic light system?”

“I do,” I nodded. It was on.

His fingernails dug into the soft skin of my hip even through my skirt. I’d probably have bruises there later and I’d wear them like a badge of honour.

“I already had to take a very uncomfortable walk home this morning with my hoody tied around my waist to hide my hard-on, thanks to you coming into work dressed like a little whore,” he sneered at me. “I think we’re going to have to have a very serious talk about professionalism in the workplace.”

The hand that had been on my hip suddenly disappeared, only to reappear with a hard smack on the side of my buttock, the only part of my ass that was accessible. I gasped at the sharp sting and then moaned with arousal as the flesh burned. Another smack, only this time he slipped his hand under my skirt and groped at the still-smarting globe of muscle over the satin of my underwear.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” I moaned, wishing that I could cross my legs and put some pressure on my almost painfully throbbing clit. But I was still bound and completely at Neville’s mercy.

He stared at me, eyes fiery, licking his lips like a wolf licking its chops before devouring its kill. He obviously enjoyed me calling him Sir, the light blue of his tight jeans doing nothing to hide the thickening outline by the inseam of his right thigh.

He must have noticed me staring at his hardening cock, as he palmed at it with his right hand, admitting, “I already came once today thanks to you, you little slut.”

“Yes Sir,” I gasped, trying to push my pelvis forward to give him more access to my ass, his fingers kneading into the hot flesh. But I needed more!

He moved behind me and I could hear him searching through the drawers. “The good thing about being a magician,” he smirked, coming towards me with a small pair of scissors, “is that I can make anything disappear.” He reached up beneath my skirt and with two simple snips my underwear came away in his hand. He slipped the scraps of black satin and lace into his jeans pocket.

Because I still had my skirt on I wasn’t actually exposed, but because of my stance, my legs spread open so wide, I felt more naked than I ever had.

“This too.” He placed the scissors at the bottom of my vest and slowly began cutting. I protested at first but that earned me another spank.

“Sorry Sir,” I apologised. Just knowing that I was completely under his control was making me so aroused that I could actually feel my wetness begin to drip down my thighs. He cut the vest away completely, leaving me in just my sports bra and tiny skirt. At least the bra zipped at the front so he wouldn’t have to cut that.

He set the scissors and fabric scraps on the desk and came back to stand before me, eying me hungrily. “Please Sir,” I moaned. “Touch me.”

Agonisingly slowly he clicked the zip on my bra down, tooth by tooth as I writhed against the ropes. Finally my top was completely open, and he took one of my hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hot, pebbled skin. His hand massaged the other breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I groaned at being touched at last, my hands clenching in empty fists as lightning bolts of pleasure ran through my body.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the skin of my chest as his free hand found its way to my upper thigh. He rested it there for a moment and I whimpered, desperate for him to touch me more intimately.

“When I’m ready,” he scolded, biting my nipple as punishment.

“Yes, Neville.” He looked up at me through his impossibly long lashes with an angry look on his face, and I knew exactly what mistake I’d made. “I mean Yes Sir, I’m sorry Sir,” I gasped out, feeling my whole body flushing with arousal.

“Good girl,” he purred.

Torturously slowly, his fore and middle fingers traced a line across the smooth skin of my upper thigh, up under my skirt and then dipped down into the crease of my hip. He explored further still until he came to the delicate fold between my thigh and outer lip, where my juices had already dripped down.

“God, you’re soaked!” He sounded astonished that I could be so wet only from what we had done so far.

All I could do was moan in agreement, straining to try and force his fingers to slip closer to my clit. Thankfully he didn’t make me wait any longer and slid the two fingers either side of my dripping hole, collecting as much of my fluids on his thick digits as he could while still avoiding entering me, before at last rubbing his fingertips over that hot little bundle of nerves at my core.

I jerked and cried out at finally being touched.

“Easy, baby,” he cooed in a voice one might use to soothe a startled horse, all the while still rubbing circles on my clit. “I’ve got you.”

The ‘fuck’ that slipped out of my mouth was practically a sob. Neville really did have magic hands and I could already feel the beginnings of an orgasm building deep inside me.

It was killing me that I couldn’t reach out and run my fingers through his hair, but being tied up was turning me on more than I could have ever imagined it would.

“So fucking wet...” Neville moaned into my neck as he kissed down it, and I gasped as he suddenly pushed both fingers into my pussy without warning. The hot stretch of it felt so amazing and I just wished I could clamp my legs around him and grind into it. As it was I tried to tighten my muscles around him as much as I could. His thumb continued to work my clit and the tight ball of electricity started to grow deep in my stomach. Fuck, I was close.

“Gonna cum,” I gasped.

The thumb withdrew. I groaned in frustration and displeasure. I had been so close!

“You cum when I say so, babygirl.” he said assertively, biting and sucking at my collarbone as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of me.

Finally the thumb returned and my pleasure built to a crescendo again. I couldn’t help myself, I moaned out, “Please Sir, let me cum!”

“As you asked so nicely,” he smirked. “Cum for me.”

I closed my eyes and allowed the white heat of my orgasm to overwhelm me, crying out as the waves of pleasure flooded through me, over and over and over.

Finally I blinked my eyes open, my body heavy and satiated. He was holding me up, as my legs could not do it for themselves and he didn’t want the rope to cut into my wrists. Reaching around behind me he pulled the lever to loosen the ropes and helped me to step out of the bindings, as I was wobbling like a new-born deer. Then he lifted me up and carried me to an old chaise lounge in the corner with half its stuffing missing.

“Are you OK?” he asked, checking my wrists and ankles for chafing. Thankfully there was none.

“I’m fine,” I answered honestly. “But what about you?” I nodded towards his crotch, where his very obvious erection was still waiting to be taken care of.

Once he knew I wasn’t hurt, dominant Neville came out to play again.

“Oh my sweet little babygirl, don’t worry,” he smiled, “I fully intend to take you.” He grabbed me by the neck to pull me into a deep kiss. I realised that despite him just giving me the most amazing orgasm, this was actually the first time we had kissed! His powerful tongue probed against mine, his hands roaming over my mostly naked body. Finally, with my own hands free I could touch everywhere I wanted to. They raked through his hair, across his back, cupping his tight buttocks. I was in heaven.

He stopped the kiss after a few minutes and stood up to pull off his T-shirt and jeans, while I slipped out of my last remaining pieces of clothing. I lay back and admired the view in front of me, this beautiful man all mine, his huge cock erect and already leaking pre-cum just for me.

He leaned down to kiss me again and then with one hand flat on my chest, forced me to lie back on to the chaise lounge. Both of us were now fully naked, our bodies shining in the dim light of the warehouse.

He reached down into the back pocket of his discarded jeans and pulled out a condom that he must have stashed there earlier when he was getting the scissors.

“Ready?” he asked, tearing open the foil and carefully rolling the prophylactic down his thick shaft.

“Yes Sir, please take me. I need you.”

His beautifully reddened, kiss-bitten lips twisted into a satisfied smile and he laid his full bodyweight on top of me, the blunt head of his cock resting against my dripping entrance. He teased me for a moment by circling the flushed cockhead around the hole before finally breaching my tightness, just with the tip at first. I let out a long, low moan at the delicious stretch and wrapped my legs around his back, trying to force him into me more quickly.

“Ah ah ah!” he scolded, his left hand flying to my neck. He squeezed lightly in punishment, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle so I didn’t need to use any of the safe words. “At my pace, little Princess.”

I kept my legs around his waist but I ceased any attempts to pull him closer. I threw my head back and mewled as he finally started to push himself in fully, enjoying that deep burning sensation of being completely filled. He bottomed out and began to thrust slowly inside me, drawing himself all the way out to the tip and then sliding back in again.

It was like sweet, divine torture. He obviously had no intention of rushing this, each stroke brushing against my G spot just enough to start building my orgasm but not enough to actually make me cum.

He kissed and nibbled at my throat, working his way up my neck to suckle on my earlobes which made me shiver with delight. I could feel my skin prickle with goosebumps as his tongue worked its way down again, finally ending up at my breasts. My nipples hardened in response and he sucked one into his mouth, his warm saliva leaving a trailed string from the pebbled skin to his bottom lip for a moment when he pulled away.

I grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him down to kiss me again, and as we kissed his thrusts began to speed up. We moaned into each other’s mouths, the arousal building for both of us. He reached down between our writhing bodies and started to finger my clitoris again, and I groaned loudly as immense pleasure overtook me. Neville was grunting with the effort of fucking me now, his thrusts growing more frantic and erratic.

My second orgasm was building, the tight knot of pleasure in my core growing as Neville’s cock brushed my G spot with every stroke, and his fingers expertly worked my clit.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” I announced, my eyes fluttering closed, stars behind them in my vision.

“That’s it, cum for me my good girl,” he praised. “So fucking beautiful.”

I let the orgasm wash over me, pure pleasure spiking every nerve in my body until everything turned white and I shuddered in Neville’s arms.

“Jesus, uh, fuck,” Neville groaned, and I felt him stiffen, then he too shuddered as he came inside me, his cock twitching as he unloaded into the condom. After a moment he collapsed on top of me, completely spent.

We lay there for a few moments until the chill made me shiver. Neville stood up and turned away to dispose of the condom, seemingly embarrassed for me to see him do the ‘clean up’. Then he grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge and a blanket that had been thrown over some boxes in the corner, and came back to the chaise lounge, throwing the blanket over the both of us.

“Are you OK?” he asked me, handing me the water. I took it gratefully and took a long drink. He did likewise and then set the bottle aside.

“I am,” I smiled, snuggling into his arms. Even though the dominant Neville was a huge turn-on, I was glad that he knew how to do the aftercare as well. “So what does this mean for us?” I asked, even though I was terrified of the answer. “Was this a one-off, or...”

“No!” he said, a little to quickly and loudly. “I mean, if you want us to... I’d like... do you want to go out? I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

“Same,” I smiled, relieved that he wasn’t just using me as a one night stand. I wanted to be with Neville. He seemed like a really nice guy, and they had been few and far between lately.

“So do you actually want to go out with me?” I asked, reaching a hand up to curl it affectionately through his hair.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“So... a proper date,” I mused. “How about tomorrow night?”

“That sounds great,” he smiled, taking the hand that had been in his hair and kissing it. “Oh, but I’ll have to take a rain check I’m afraid. I’ve got a magician coming round tomorrow night to show me a trick I’m interested in buying.”

“Oh right,” I replied, feeling a little bit annoyed, but understanding that work needed to come first. “Who’s the Magician?”

“Some old guy called Willy Wando,” he said. “But it probably won’t come to anything.”

Even if Neville didn’t hold out much hope, I had a funny feeling this trick was going to change his life.

#reece shearsmith #inside no 9 #Misdirection #smut #tied up #Neville Griffin #magic daddy #original female character #magic

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fluffyyunho · 3 years

Text

Best friends to lovers | Seonghwa (Part 1)

Seonghwa sat down on the bonnet of his car, passing you a drink. You smiled, cracking it open.

"I love days like this." He smiled, looking out at the sunset. You watched his face closely, his tanned skin seeming like pure gold in the sunlight.

"Me too." You smiled, watching the sparkle in his eyes.

Seonghwa put his can on the floor, laying back and closing his eyes. He looked so peaceful, like that, basking in the golden hours of the evening.

"Can I tell you some-"

"Can I tell you-"

The two of you looked at each other and laughed. You lay down with him on the car bonnet, looking into his eyes. "It's fine, you go first."

"Are you sure?" He narrowed his eyes. You nodded, shrugging your mouth a little.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you this before, I wanted to wait until I was sure, but...I like someone." The smile on your face fell a little, but there was something still holding onto him in your heart. "Who is that someone?"

He smiled, his eyes crinkling charmingly. "She's someone who's really special to me. We spend a lot of time together."

You grinned, biting your lip to hide the excitement building up in your body. "What's her name?"

Turning his head, he flashed a sweet smile. "Kim Jieun."

There was a long pause after he said the unfamiliar name. It wasn't yours, and you didn't know how to respond. It felt like your heart had just collapsed in on itself, or you brain was eating your alive, cell by cell. Still, you maintained a smile, albeit forced. "I've never heard of her, she seems...nice."

He laughed. "Silly," he tapped his finger onto your nose, "you've only heard her name and you already think she's nice?"

You chuckled sheepishly. "I must be silly, right?"

"But you're right. She is really nice...and beautiful, too." His cheeks flushed a bright pink.

You watched the expression form on his face, and you don't know what to do. Part of you wanted to slap him across the face for having feelings for anyone but you. The other part of you wanted to slap yourself for thinking you ever had a chance with your closest and most valued friend.

"Anyway, you wanted to tell me something, what was it?"

Defeated, you shook your head. "Nothing, it was just about how my mom wants you to come over someday, she's missed you."

"Oh, I'm sure we can work something out." He nodded, lips sticking out into a slight pout.

"We should probably go home, the sun's going to set soon."

"Yeah." He stood up with a light groan, jumping up onto his feet. "I feel so refreshed today." He opened his arms out as if he were going to hug someone.

"Me too..." you grabbed your can and walked over to the passenger seat.

Eventually, you told one of your closest friends your secret, about liking Seonghwa, and how he had already found someone seemingly to replace you. You had no idea who this Jieun person was, or how they met, and you regretted not sticking closer next to him after school break.

"Y/n, come on, it'll be fun!"

"I don't want to go." You sat in bed, scrolling mindlessly on your phone, not paying attention to anything that flew across the screen.

"You've been stuck in your room for weeks over Seonghwa, I think this party will be good for you."

"No, Minah, I told you no."

"Come on, Y/n, it'll be fun! I promise you-"

"I told you, I don't want to go!" You yelled, tears brimming at the inner corners of your eyes. "I want to stay here...please."

"Y/n..." Minah, your closest friend other than Seonghwa, put her hand on your knee. "I know it hurts, I mean...I've never experienced anything like it, but I know it hurts. Look, I think it'll be good if you get out of the house. Go for ten minutes, maybe half an hour if you like it."

"-And if I don't like it?"

"Then you can go home."

You gulped, glancing over at your closet. "Fine. I'll go. But for no more than half an hour, okay?"

Minah giggled. "Let's get you looking sexy, my friend, Seonghwa's going to regret ever laying eyes on that girl!"

Yourself and Minah walked into the party that was hosted at a well-known friend's house. You didn't know the host that well, personally, but you'd heard the name floating around between friends. It was fairly tame, although there were a few avid drinkers stumbling their way through the mass of people.

"Do you want a drink?" Minah asked, eyeing up the selection of beverages. You shook your head in disgust. You felt that if you even drank plain water it would come right back up, due to the nerves.

Minah scuttled off to the drinks section, and you were left alone behind the sofa. There were couples making out on coffee tables and against walls, and the place stenched a bit. It didn't seem like your idea of a fun party, but you were there and you promised to stay at least for half an hour.

Without warning, you felt a pair of hands slide over your eyes, and you flinched, pulling them away and spinning around quickly. There was anger in your eyes, until you saw the face in front of yours.

"Seonghwa..." you smiled bitterly, watching his mouth twist up into a smile.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He laughed, eyes flickering around the room. His eyes fixated on something and lit up, as if he'd just seen an angel.

"Seonghwa!" A beautiful girl linked her arm with his and the two locked lips. You grimaced, looking away as they shared a sweet kiss.

"Y/n, this is Jieun, the girl I was talking to you about."

Jieun's eyes widened. "Wait, this is the Y/n you're always talking about? You're so pretty, sweetheart!" She placed her hand onto your arm, and you shook it off. Jieun smiled awkwardly.

"Well, it's nice to meet you." She held her hand out, and you reluctantly took it.

"Nice to meet you too." You shook it, dropping it quickly. She had a beautiful smile, like a model, and she made sure to flaunt it after every sentence she spoke. The music was pounding in your ears as you watched them, feeling like a third wheel. You felt rage in your body as his arm was slung around her waist the entire time, his thumb stroking her hip. His eyes seemed to gaze at her the same way he looked at you. You felt replaced, like a dead puppy.

"I'm going outside." You announced, pushing your way through the middle of the couple. Seonghwa seemed taken aback, his mouth slightly agape, and Jieun scrunched her nose as you walked away, mostly confused.

"Y/n!" Minah ran up to you as you sat in the garden on the bench. She had glitter smudged on her cheek, and she was holding a half-finished drink.

"What do you want?"

"I couldn't find you, I had to ask Seonghwa where you were. He said you were out here." She plopped herself down beside you. "You shouldn't go somewhere without telling me, I thought maybe you were in trouble..."

You sighed. "I'm sorry. I should've told you, right? I'm silly." You tapped your nose, chuckling sadly.

"You are silly!" She remarked. "But I'm glad you're okay....ish."

"Yeah..." you sighed, leaning your back against the bench.

"Are you...you know, okay-ish?"

"I'm okay-ish, but I'm not okay." You laughed, biting your lip. "Sorry...I shouldn't joke about that."

"No, it's fine. I have times when I feel sad, but I still laugh. We all do it, it helps a lot of people to cope."

You nodded slowly. "I can't stand seeing them together, if I'm honest. The way that he talks with her, holds her...kisses her- it just makes me feel..."

"Lost?"

You nodded. "Lost. But the type of lost where I feel like I'm in the shadows, and they get to steal the spotlight. Like if I'm not there, he doesn't even think of me."

"That's not true," she hummed, "you guys are best friends! He would never forget about you."

You sniffed a little, wiping away the stray tear that had found its way onto your cheek. "I thought I was over it, you know, until I saw him."

"And? How are your feelings?"

"Crushed." You laughed. "I want to be the one that he looks at like that, the one who he holds and gives kisses to...it it weird to want something like that?"

"Not at all. A lot of people want to be that person for someone."

You closed your eyes briefly, letting them rest. "I don't even want to be best friends with him any more."

Minah said nothing, shocked out of the ability to get a single word out.

"I can't talk to him without thinking that he has a girlfriend now, I-I can't even think about him without thinking about his girlfriend. I can't be around him comfortably without remembering that I have to be careful, because of his stupid girlfriend!" You huffed, finally letting the first tear roll down your cheek. "If I'm ever going to move on from him, then I need to stay away from him. I won't talk to him, or intentionally see him, it'll be easier for me."

Minah pursed her lips gently. "Are you sure you want to do that? You'll lose him."

"I'll lose him anyway. I don't want to live being best friends with him if I know I can't have him- if I know I'm not the one that he'll come home to."

Minah nodded. "I understand...but maybe you should think a little more about what you're doing. Think about him? He might be crushed-"

"But I'll finally be happy." You stood up, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your dress. "I've made up my mind. I want nothing more to do with Park Seonghwa."

As soon as University started, and you two went to the same one as you planned in high school, that's exactly what you did. You ignored him whenever he tried to get your attention, and when he stopped you in the middle of hallways. When he called you, you didn't answer. He would text you every day, as an attempt to reach out, but you didn't answer, no matter how much you wanted to. When you finally graduated, he tried to congratulate you on your graduation, despite having been ignored for three whole years, and you ignored him again. You never spoke to him directly, only to a friend about him.

After graduation, it was easier to handle as you moved out of home to Seoul, to look for job opportunities. By then, you hadn't said a word to him for three years. You could tell he was distraught, and despite how much you fought to stay away from him, he would keep contacting you.

His girlfriend of three years, Jieun, reached out to you once, but you told her you wanted nothing to do with her or her boyfriend. You heard they'd moved in together and worked just a few blocks from each other and would meet up for lunch - which was just one of the many stories your mother would tell you about them.

No matter how much you tried to block him out of your life, at least once a week you'd get an update on him, or a message, or an unanswered phone call which went straight to voicemail.

When, finally, at the age of 23, you stopped receiving anything. It felt strange, the first week of nothing. No contacting, no news of him from your mother, just radio silence. It was the first time you went a whole 2 days without the thought of Seonghwa popping into your head.

When you recieved a promotion and was appointed deputy head of the editing department at 24, you had forgotten all about Seonghwa. You hadn't thought of him, even as a long-gone memory, for over a year. At that point, he felt no different from a stranger.

"Y/n!" One of your close friends and colleagues Jungwon pounded onto your apartment door, and you opened it begrudgingly.

"What?" You laughed, unable to help the smile on your face.

"I brought chicken~" she sang, strolling into your apartment and placing the bag onto the table. She made herself comfortable on the sofa. "I also brought alcohol, specifically beer, because I know how you are, but most of all...chicken!" She smiled proudly.

"I would thank you, but I already ate."

She groaned. "I told you I was going to come over!"

"I didn't think you were actually going to do it! You can be pretty lazy at times, missy."

She tutted. "Anyway, I'LL eat."

You scoffed, slumping down onto the sofa. "I'll just have a drink, okay? But you- don't drink too much, you've got to go back home."

"Why? It's the weekend! I can stay here!"

You sighed. "Okay, fine. But just don't drink so much, you're a loud drunk. The landlord'll shout at me again."

She nodded, not really paying attention and opening a can. You cracked open a can, and felt a tug at your heart.

'I love days like this.'

'Me too.'

"Ah..." you sighed, gulping down the drink quickly, trying to banish that thought back into the realms of your mind.

"What's up? You look like you're in pain."

"I'm fine." You smiled, glugging the rest of the can down and letting out a gassy burp.

"Jeez...slow down. You're worse than me." Jungwon chuckled.

"I just want to be drunk." You commented, opening another can.

"So you're drinking away your problems..." she sighed nostalgically, "I know that feeling all too well."

You let out another light burp, tipping the can back into your mouth to empty the rest of it.

"Okay, stop. This is getting a bit ridiculous."

"No, I want to get drunk." You shook the hand that she had put on your arm, and with a tingling stomach, you grabbed another can.

"Y/n, stop!" Jungwon grabbed the can and placed it back onto the table with a concerned look in her eyes, compliemented with anger. "What's wrong with you right now?"

"Nothing." You laughed, "I told you, I just want to be drunk."

"You rarely ever want to be drunk. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." You sat back, feeling the alcohol burn your throat.

"Come on, Y/n, you can tell me."

You sighed, rubbing your eyes with your fingers, then pinching the bridge of your nose. "Fine. I'll tell you."

For the next few hours, you spoke with Jungwon about your past with Seonghwa, explaining every detail that you thought was relevant to the story, even if it meant describing Seonghwa's beauty with long, tedious analogies and metaphors which mostly blew over her head.

"Wow..." she sighed, glancing at the time. "3 hours...and you said you don't have feelings for him anymore?"

You laughed, placing the final finished can of alcohol on the table. "I'm pretty sure I don't. I mean, it's been 6 years since I've spoken to him."

"What is he doing now, anyway?"

"...I honestly don't know." You laughed, feeling slightly tipsy from the alcohol, but nowhere near drunk.

"Anyway, I think I'm gonna head off to bed now."

"You can sleep in my bed, I usually fall asleep watching TV on the sofa."

"Oh, thanks."

The next morning you woke up, neck aching from having slept in an unusual position. You grabbed the cans from the table and crushed them underneath your foot, placing them into a small carrier bag. Despite it being August, it was still fairly warm outside, and you threw on a jacket to take the cans outside to the trash. One by one, you threw the cans into the large dumpster bin full of metal.

With the last can, it slipped out of your hand, and you felt a stinging sensation on your palm.

"Ah..." you winced, squeezing your wrist as the blood dripped out of your hand. "Shit.."

You immediately called Jungwon, who was probably still asleep in your bed.

"Jungwon." You stared down at your hand, which had coated the rest of your hand in blood. The wound was pretty deep, and the pain made you feel slightly lightheaded.

"What?" Her voice was heavy with sleep, and it was clear she had just woken up.

"Can you take my car and drive me to the hospital? I cut myself in one of the cans and it won't stop bleeding."

"Uh...yeah, sure." She hung up the phone after.

A few minutes later you sat in the car, squeezing your wrist to limit the blood trying to escape from the cut.

"Shit, you know, I didn't think it was going to be that bad, it looks like...at least two centimetres deep."

"Well, I did say on the phone that it was bad...ow, it hurts." You winced, biting your lip.

"We're almost there, okay?"

"Yeah."

When you entered the hospital, you walked straight up to the desk and presented your hand. "Can anyone see me right now?"

The woman at the desk nodded, and took your details, and quickly gave you directions to a room as she called someone. You heard the name that she said, and you immediately looked up at Jungwon.

"Excuse me," you laughed awkwardly, "can I have a different doctor? Not that one, please."

"I'm sorry," she pressed the phone against her shoulder, "we don't have anyone else available at the moment."

"Oh..." you sighed, giving up and finding your way to the room. There was nobody in there, and a nurse standing outside instructed that you should sit in there and wait for the doctor to come. Your nerves got the better of you and you spent a few minutes pacing around.

"I heard her correctly, right? Seonghwa? Seonghwa."

"Seonghwa." Jungwon nodded. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I don't know." You laughed anxiously. "What do I say? Do I pretend that I don't know him? Do I pretend that I do know him, because I mean...I do know him, and what do I do if he brings up our past?"

Jungwon pulled a strange face. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you want me to say, I only got introduced to this situation last night."

"Ah, it's fine." You sat down, bouncing your leg up and down. "God...and I look like a mess! I've got blood on my sweatpants and my hair's a mess, I don't even have a bra on!"

"I really don't think doctors care about that."

"I should've at least put some makeup on."

"After slicing your hand open on serrated metal?"

You groaned, putting your good hand to your forehead. "I can hear someone coming, how do I look?"

"Like you just woke up."

"Oh, for fuck's sake-"

The door opened, and you shut yourself up, watching Seonghwa walk into the room. He was holding a clipbaord and wearing a lab coat. He looked good, I mean, really good. You thought he had peaked at age 16, but he looked so much more handsome at 24.

He glanced down at the clipboard, before looking up.

"Name?"

"Uh...L/n, Y/n."

"Okay." He scribbled on the clipboard. "Sorry I'm late, I just had to clean up an old man's vomit down the hallway." He smiled. "What can I help you with?"

You blinked, confused by the distance between the two of you, even though you assumed he could remember you. Unless he couldn't recognise you with makeup on...oh thank God.

"Um, this." You held your hand out, and there was an incision on the circular part on your palm which connected to your thumb.

He hummed at it for a moment. "How did you do this?"

"I accidently caught it on a can I was throwing away, and it just...slice..." you mimed, sending an embarrassed glance over to Jungwon, who was sat on her phone in the corner, trying to contain her laughter.

"Were you with her at the time?" He glanced at Jungwon, who cleared her throat.

"Um, no...S-sir."

"Just call me Doctor Park." He smiled.

"Oh..."

"Anyway, you should be careful with cans, people don't realise how sharp metal can get. It's why we use it for knives." He grabbed a syringe and a bottle with liquid in it, and filled the part of the syringe up with said liquid.

"W-what is that for?"

"It's local anaesthetic. I'm going to inject this into you, it's a similar pain to a flu vaccine, and it's going to numb the area around your wound."

"Why do you need to numb my hand?"

He glanced up, confused. "Well, would you rather me stitch your cut up without any pain relief?"

You gulped.

"Well?"

"Oh, you want me to answer...uh, no."

"Okay. Then the most you'll feel is a sharp scratch, alright?"

"Can you count down, or something, I have a feeling this is going to-"

"Now." He pushed the needle under your skin, and you shook your hand, whining slightly at the pain. A chuckle escaped from his mouth.

"Holy fuck! That hurt way much more than a 'sharp scratch', a-and why are you laughing? You shouldn't be laughing at a patient in pain!"

"I'm laughing because it was your reaction, Y/n..."

You blinked, feeling your stomach drop at the nostalgic feeling. The look in his eyes, his laugh, the way he called your name, everything was the same.

"You...remember me?"

He nodded, grabbing a needle, a pair of tweezers and what looked like plastic thread from a few of the cabinets. "Of course I remember you."

"Oh..."

"I wouldn't look at this if I were you, not many people like looking at this part."

"Oh, okay..." she looked down, staring at the floor in front of his feet. He took her hand once again, which luckily she could still feel, and pressed a needle into her skin.

"Can you feel that?"

She pursed her lips. "I can't."

"Okay."

He put on a pair of blue latex gloves to disinfect the area. He then began stitching the area up slowly and precisely.

"So...how are you?" He asked.

"Good." You responded.

"Is that it? Just good? The last I remember speaking to you was at the party where you told me you would go outside, and then I never heard a word from you...until a few minutes ago."

You cleared your throat. "Please don't talk about that sort of stuff with me. I had my reasons-"

"I'm sure you did."

"-So leave it in the past." You warned. "I just came here to get my hand fixed. We'll go back to not speaking once I'm gone."

"Then I hope you never leave."

You chuckled bitterly. "I thought doctors were supposed to be professional."

"I am being professional. I'm just making light conversation, I want to get to know you again...the older you."

"Please stop speaking, I've had enough."

He said nothing after, which was a relief, and he finished stitching the wound off and cutting the extra off.

"I need you to come back in a week so we can take these stitches out. It should be ready to heal on it's own then. However, until then, try not to use your hand too much, keep it away from water and don't stretch your hand out or grab things."

"Okay. Thank you."

"I'll see you next week."

"Ah..." she turned back to Seonghwa, who was beginning to fill out her form, "I'd appreciate it if a different doctor helped me next week."

He chewed the inside of his mouth. "Fine."

"Thank you, doctor."

"You're welcome."

Yourself and Jungwon sat quietly in the car. Most of it was spent waiting for the feeling to come back into your hand. The blue stitches looked particularly gross, and you felt the urge to pull them out like pulling out a shoelace from a shoe.

"Can you feel anything yet?"

"Not yet." She poked her palm, feeling nothing, as if she were touching somebody else's hand.

"Hey, you didn't tell me Seonghwa was so handsome."

"Stop...please, I don't want to hear about him anymore."

"Sure." She smiled sheepishly. "The good news is, I didn't see a ring on any of his fingers."

"He's 24, not 32. I didn't expect there to be one, anyway."

"He's kind, though. Not many doctors will speak like that to their patients."

"Jungwon..." your voice became louder, "please be quiet. I'm getting a headache from hearing his name so many times."

"Sorry..."

Over the next week, you went to work as normal, although had to type with one hand, write paperwork with one hand - without the use of your dominant one - and cook, clean, wash yourself with one hand. You asked for help from your coworkers a few times, and they reluctantly agreed.

Jungwon drove you back to the hospital on the Saturday, where the woman at the desk directed you to a different room this time, which more than got your hopes up. Jungwon was waiting in the car, so you were alone as you entered the room. You sighed, sitting down on the chair. "I told you last week I wanted somebody different."

Seonghwa spun from the computer to face you, wheeling himself over with an amused smile. "This is a hospital, you can't just pick and choose which doctor you get."

"I wish I could..." you sighed, holding your hand out. "Just get it done quickly."

"This procedure is longer than the last. I have to take the stitches out, then add tape to hold the cut together, and then bandage it up."

You tutted. "Stop talking about it and just get it done, then."

Seonghwa sighed, disinfecting your skin and then injecting you again with the local anaesthetic, which this time didn't hurt that much - and you wondered whether last time he had injected directly into your wound. (It sure felt like it.)

Seonghwa added the tape to either side of the cut which helped to pull the skin together to seal it easier, and then he added a bandage on top, occasionally asking if if was too tight.

"How does that feel?"

"Better." You nodded, curling your fingers.

"Be careful," he took your hand, "don't move it about so much. It's still healing."

You slowly pulled your hand away. "How long will it take to heal?"

"A few weeks for it to fully scab over, maybe a few months until you get the scarring."

"I'll get a scar?"

"Well, I think so. The skin is too disrupted for it to be able to heal correctly. Just don't pick at the scab, and follow the rules I set you last week for a couple more weeks."

"Ugh..." you sighed, "I feel like grandma at an old people's home, I've had to ask everyone to help me do things."

He chuckled. "You don't have any strange tingling sensations or loss of control, right?"

"No, why?"

"Sometimes you can sever a nerve, which means you can lose feeling and control in some of your fingers or thumb."

"Have you seen that before?"

He nodded. "I was relieved when you said you didn't, because a lot of people who have cuts that deep will lose motor control in the part that they hurt."

You nodded slowly. "Well, thanks, I guess." You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder.

"Y/n." you stopped for a moment, looking at him. His eyes were comforting and calm, and you felt safe in them once again, even though you knew they would just entice you once again, and it would probably hurt even more the second time.

"Do you want to grab a drink with me, later?"

You thought for a moment. "Sorry, I don't drink."

He chuckled. "That's fine. Maybe we can catch a meal together, or, are you going to say you don't eat, either?"

You laughed, smiling. "Good guess. But I know you're smart enough to get the hint. I want nothing to do with you, Seonghwa." Annoyed, you pulled the door open with your good hand. "Goodbye." You waved.

"Hey, Y/n-" you slammed the door behind you, letting out a huff of air, riddng yourself of your anger. "Good..."

The next few weeks were spent exactly the same as the previous, and you changed your bandage after every shower, and went to the local doctors to check on it, not daring to step foot into the hospital again.

One day, after being bailed on by Minah and Jungwon, who had gone out to the arcade for the night, you went to a midnight snack bar to drink alone, to feel something in the few weeks of monotonous work that you had to do.

It was quiet, the bar, and it was just you sat on a table, and a couple in the corner who were smooching and rubbing noses together like puppies in love. You scoffed, throwing another shot back. You were drunk. You felt drunk, certaintly, you felt like your brain was moving slower than you wanted it to, and you could barely keep your eyes on anything.

Thankfully, though, you were sober enough to still be able to be allowed another drink by the owner, who was watching you carefully, being the only lone woman in the place.

As you threw back another shot, someone sat down in front of you, facing you on the table. He poured himself a shot and drank it, letting out a sharp breath as the alcohol stung the back of his throat.

"What are you doing here?" You slurred, cheeks pink with heat.

"Getting a drink, you?"

"Trying to get away from you." You laughed, standing up. As soon as you tried to walk, you almost fell onto one of the other tables, but were caught by him, and sat back down.

"I hate you, Park Seonghwa." You yelled, drawing attention from the table with the couple, who whispered to each other.

"What? Have you never seen a drunk person before? I'm not drunk, though..." you sighed, pouring yourself another shot.

Seonghwa took the shot and drank it before you could even tough the glass.

"Hey! That was mine. Don't steal people's drinks." You warned, finger pointing out to his face. You poured another drink for yourself, which was then promptly snatched by Seonghwa, who drank it, and placed it back onto the table.

#ateez #atzinc #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa smut #ateez seonghwa

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bxllafanficc · 3 years

Text

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part one)

part two part three part four part five. Find the rest on; Masterlist

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

"Remind me once again why we're going to Japan? It's clear you'd never take us there just because you miss Victor and I know by experience that it's not because of his apprentice."

First class flight like usual. The view out the airplane window of the sparkling city at nighttime below them would stun anybody but at this point, Yuri has traveled so many times it's only become regular sights and the lights of the streets are only plain colored spots in a dark void to him these days. One thing he will never feel comfortable with though is staying in the same seat for hours on end until the airplane arrives at its destination. His legs are itching from wanting to move around. He'll just have to jog it off back on the ground like every other trip in the past.

"You'll be spending some time with Yuuri Katsuki and Victor the following weeks to gain your fighting spirit back. You need to get back in touch with your emotions, remember?" Yakov slightly turned his posture towards the Russian skater beside him, folding his newspaper in half and putting it in his lap.

He only nodded with a slight hum. He could see Yakov's reasoning, some parts of it at least. He HAD been lacking in emotional performance ever since the new year began and it was time to get back into the mindset of winning yet another Grand Prix gold medal like last year. No, not last year. Last year's competition was cancelled after a minor pandemic spread through Russia and the nearby regions. In fear of the virus spreading, all competitions cancelled and larger crowded areas were forbidden to take place. Therefore Yuri's only been able to practice by himself and keeping himself fit for a possible competition next year. But a year of doing nothing can really change your spirit and afraid to admitting it to his coach, he's been missing several opportunities to hit the rink and stayed home watching anime or scrolled through social media instead.

But one thing he doesn't get is how Victor and Yuuri are gonna make him get his mindset in the right track again. He already won his first gold medal at his senior debut and he doubt that the Japanese skater will be in any better condition than Yuri's currently in right now. Pig-man must've been in a much worse state considering his boo Victor had to stay in Russia during the pandemic, unable to keep an eye on Yuuri's routines.

"Besides, there's a little surprise waiting for you where you'll be staying with the two of them. It better work out fine or else I'm out of ideas."

That caught his attention to say the least.

"Well if it's supposed to save me from the deep end then why be so secretive and hushy with it? Spill the news, Yakov."

The old man only grunted and picked up his newspaper once again and hid his face behind it. Well now he really wanted to know what it was. Clearly he would have to make some effort. Soon the article about a Russian charity event taking place this weekend got replaced with a clenched fist going straight through the back of the paper. Yuri expected some kind of reaction but Yakov only sighed and leaned back in his seat without even a flinch.

"It's no surprise if I tell you. I promised Victor to keep it a secret."

"Tell me."

"No."

Yuri groaned and folded his arms with a sour glare. The display in the ceiling told the traveler's that it was 10 minutes until landing so he gave up his attempts and let his eyes rest for a while. At least he would find out tomorrow, he assumed. It was 2am and he would be staying at a hotel close to the airport since it was too late to make rest of the trip in one day.

Yuri was out with the speed of a lightning bolt the second the plane doors opened. He sped past everyone before him and he didn't stop when he finally got outside. His feet carried him to run circles around the plane meanwhile he was waiting for Yakov to get out the normal way. It's a silly habit of his and he knows he looks stupid doing it but his coach has given him strict orders to not run away at one random direction like used to do at first. It would take like half an hour for him to be found once he took off, but only if he got lost.

"Yuri! Get over here!"

Well, there's his cue to get ready and head to the hotel. Finally he's able to get some sleep before he's forced to wake up early at dawn to head to Hot Springs and meet the two most annoying people in Japan.

...

He didn't even have time to eat breakfast. He overslept and got rushed to the cab with an angry Yakov behind him, newspaper folded tightly in his fist. The trip through the beautiful Japan would've been pleasant if Yuri hadn't dozed off every 10 seconds. He didn't get much sleep after all. He spent at least three hours thinking about the special surprise and raiding the free mini bar before he finally got to rest. At 8am he was woken up with banging on the door and now, at 10am, he was standing at the entrance of Hot Springs waiting for Yuuri's mom to announce their arrival. She hurried away somewhere with her usual bubbly happy self that Yuri had no idea how a person could be so... not moody all day long.

The place was as crowded with customers as last time and the two Russians were told to step inside to the more private parts of the building where the family lived along with Victor at the moment.

"Victor! How come my brand new lotion is used? You smelled a suspicious amount of peaches and wild berries at breakfast and there's no point denying it!" A fairly soft and modulated voice was heard from somewhere to the left where the private shower stalls were located. A couple seconds later a giggly Victor and Yuuri came through the direction of the living room and greeted Yuri with happy cheers. The slender white haired Russian caught Yakov in a bear hug, much to the old man's surprise. Yuuri extended his hand towards Yuri but Yuri didn't give any effort in taking it.

"Food. I'm starving."

Yuuri dropped his hand with a light blush but Victor pouted and let go of his former coach. Strong and clingy arms were suddenly wrapped around his chest and he couldn't breathe.

"So unpolite... Yuriooo we've missed you! Haven't you missed us?"

Yuri thrashed like a fish caught in a net and tried to hit the arms of the bastard trapping him. Yuuri joined in, only to get a kick in the hip. His stomach growled angrily and the endless void in his body didn't lighten up the experience a bit.

"Let go you old man! You too piglet!"

"I hoped you'd say it out loud but I know that deep down you've been missing us, Yuriii." Victor went to whisper in his ear with pouty lips but was swatted away by a backhand in his face. That finally caused him to let go and Yuri jumped out of reach for the two males.

"Hm... Or not." The expression he got from Victor was sad and pouty and the man earned a hand on his shoulder, put there by Yuuri. Yuri could only sigh and shake his head.

"Victor! Did you steal my shampoo too?! I will- Oh? What now?" Yuri turned around abruptly by the unfamiliar yet familiar voice behind him. His eyes widened.

The girl was standing to the left of the hall, seemingly coming from the shower. A curious hand rested against the wall beside her and her face was covered in a grey clay face mask, a toothbrush lazily hanging from the corner of her lips. Her (h/c) eyes glistened with mild shock along with her mouth hanging slightly open.

"You are early... Victor, you told me they would arrive at 1pm1!" She pointed a strict finger at the tall man who scratched the back of his head with a hesitant laugh. Her eyes narrowed and she grabbed her toothbrush. Because even if she was standing unprepared in front of two strangers, she would at least not forget to brush her teeth in the process, as you do.

Yuri might've considered it normal if it wasn't for that she was almost naked. Two towels were the only fabric hiding her, one wrapped around her dripping figure and the other tied up in her hair.

"Yeah, about that! I kind of mixed up the time of their arrival and your meeting with the press, that's, by the way now when I think of it, not actually cancelled but later today. Silly of me to forget, right?"

She eyed him as though her bullshit meter was ticking in the red zone and let out a huff. Yuri had to advert his gaze when it suddenly felt intruding to eye her the way he did. He also turned away because a light tint of pink was creeping up his cheeks.

"Right. Thanks for the early update. I appreciate it, really. I'll be with you again in 30 minutes. Don't wait up for me." And with that, she was gone. The silence of the men maintained for a few moments until Yuuri coughed with an awkward smile, his red cheeks still visible even after the girl had disappeared. 'It's a little weird to blush at your almost naked sister' he thought.

"So food, right? Mom is preparing pork cutlet bowls for you, Yurio, since she remembered how much you liked them last time-" He didn't have to say it twice. Yuri was off to the dining area before the man even finished saying 'pork cutlet bowl'.

#yuri plisetsky #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuriart #yuri katsuki #yuri on ice #victor nikirofov #anime fanfic #animelove #fanfiction

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sisterwifeudaku · 3 years

Text

Street Life

TW: Vulgar Language, Weapons, Violence

"Keep this shit on you at all times. You never know who or where you gotta lay a muthafucka out" Tical handed him the gun carefully.

"Thanks man" he said.

"With you being one of my best runners. Im surprised you ain't already have a piece "he responded taking a pull of his weed.

His previous conversation with his cousin made him think. He really needed to make sure he got home overnight because if he didn't who would take care of his family if he wasn't there.

He sat on his bed looking at the gun as he thought. The door slammed open and in came Fresh and his homeboy, Mike.

"Yo Stretch, we-" Fresh stated before he saw the gun

"What's up Mike?" Stretch changed the subject.

"Sup man. You coming through that party tonight?"

"Yeah man! This shit is supposed to be off the hook" he said just as the door opened again.

"Damn. Nobody knocks?" he asked as Romeo walked into the room.

"Yeah whatever man. Here goes the mail" he said tossing it on Stretch's bed.

"Thanks"

"No problem. What's up Mike"

"L.K, what's up."

"Shit hopefully some trouble tonight if you know what I mean" he said with a sinister grin making the boys in the room laugh.

"All the flyest ladies are suppose to be there tonight" Mike spoke taking a seat in the chair by the desk.

" I'm leaving with one of them tonight." Romeo stated. Nobody denied it because they knew how charming he could be. Girls knew he reputation and still decided to lay down with him with no remorse.

"Stretchy my guy. Can I hold your leather jacket tonight?"

"Yeah man. Go ahead and wear it."

"You the best man!"

"Romeo bring my shit back in one piece!!" He yelled.

"I gotcha, Christopher!" He yelled from the hall.

"You good, Fresh?" Stretch asked.

"Are you good?" He asked his older cousin.

"Always."Stretch knew he was referring to the gun that nobody else seemed to see him slide under his pillow.

"Are y'all both ok? Y'all niggas are acting weird." Mike said glancing at the two as they glared at one another.

"Mike lets go practice for tonight."

"Be easy Stretch." Mike dapped him up.

"Always."

~~~

"Yo this party is fly!" Romeo said as the group walked in.

"Oh yeah we're gonna go crazy tonight" Fresh rubbed his hands together as a girl walked past and gave him the eye.

"Baby your feet must be tired 'cause you been running through my mind all day!!" He said as he quickly wrapped his arm around her and chucked up a peace sign to his crew.

"He's coming for your spot!" Mike joked patting Romeo on his back.

"I'll see y'all brothers later." Stretch laughed making his was to the kitchen.

Nodding his head to the music he grabbed a bottle of water. He wasn't much of a drinker. Not to mention he was the designated driver for everyone else.

"You came." He heard over the loud music. Turning towards the person invading his personal space, there was Cheryl standing there with a small smile.

"And miss the opportunity to see your pretty face? I'd never." He spoke into her ear and wrapped his long arm around her.

"I see you're feeling bold tonight."

"No. I just know a pretty lady when I see one." He smiled. She laughed moving his arm from around her.

"You leaving?"

"Just heading over to my girls."

"Ok. You need someone to walk you over?" Cheryl nodded and he gave her another smile and grabbed her hand.

She pulled him into a room where there wasn't so much smoke and the music was slightly muffled.

"Hey ladies" he spoke and shook their hands.

"So I'm saying, baby. Why you keep trying to break my heart?!" Fresh asked.

She smiled at him and shook her head. He was leaning in to whisper in her ear. The girl giggled, turning to face him she planted a kiss on his lips.

"Mmh. That's what I'm talking about!" He leaned into her again but was interrupted hearing Mike start their set.

"Keep it warm for me, beautiful" he stood up and made his way to the makeshift stage.

The party seemed to enjoy the performance. Bodies danced around, some were high off of the energy while others had indulged in some party favors.

Some time went by before a slow song pulsed through the speakers. Everyone grabbed the person next to them and held them close as Silk’s "Freak Me" toned down the party.

Stretch finally had an excuse to pull Cheryl close to him as they danced. His finger tips gently ran up and down her clothed spine as he felt her hand run across the back of his head.

The moment was interrupted by a commotion behind them. He turned his head to see his cousin, Fresh arguing with another man. Watching from his spot he saw the men shove each other.

The woman Fresh danced with stood there trying to stop what Stretch knew was going to happen. Although his younger cousin was silly, once he was angry it was best to stay out of his way and leave him alone.

Making his way over to the growing circle he pushed his way into the middle just in time to hear Fresh say, "I don't give a fuck who you are. Big niggas fall hard on they asses too."

"Awe shit!" Stretch quickly grabbed his cousin.

"We not doing this here! Fresh have some respect for these people's house. Aight? That nigga ain't worth it." he pushed him as he charged for the man.

"Better listen to ya homie, lil nigga. Wasn't gonna do shit any way." He laughed.

"Listen to him and follow right behind him like a bitch" and with that Fresh moved his older cousin out of the way and punched him in his nose. He stomped his boot into the man's face and body as Stretch struggled to pull him away.

Romeo as Mike finally made their way over and helped him drag the angry kid out of the house.

"Nigga, where the hell did you go?! Mike Tyson over here was not playing games." Stretch said laughing.

"You stomped the shit out of his head, kid. He gone be mad when he look in the mirror tomorrow." Mike said lightly shoving Fresh making him laugh a little.

"Let's get home. I'm tired and I know Muhammad Ali probably worn out." Romeo stated. All the boys looked at him.

"That's because you was sexing someone's daughter half the party." Fresh spoke making everyone laugh some more.

"Aye man. Shorty said that Jodeci got her ready. Slip the DJ a few bucks and she was ready to “Come and talk to me, y’know?" He spoke dusting off his shoulders.

"Y'all are crazy. Let's get out of here before ol' dude gets out here and it's a part two." Stretch said as they walked towards the subway.

#street life series #chadwick boseman fan fiction #Chadwick Boseman #80s fanfiction #90s fanfiction #method man #DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince #will smith #merlin santana #kellie shanygne williams

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 3 years

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Hit me with your best shot

A/N: Hey! I saw the #WritersWednesday challenge on @autumnleaves1991-blog blog and thought it was an amazing opportunity to let the creativity flow and though I just started showing my works on here I guess giving it a chance wouldn't hur anybody and maybe some of you would enjoy this as much as I did writing it. And on that note, I'd like to thank every writer on here because your works have helped me a lot during these weird times; and of course speacilly to you @autumnleaves1991-blog for this and your "You're my best friend" series that made me cry, yearn (so much yearning) and loved every single minute of it, thank you!

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female character ( I decided to leave her very undeterminated as it's narrated on Javi's perspective I decided to use she/her pronouns, but I guess you could read it as a f!reader?)

Summary: Post-season 3, Javi and the character go on a date to Laredo's funfair (You could read this as a small piece on its own or as a part of the series I'm currently writing; if you're interested is on my blog and I haven't posted much since I opened it)

Warning: None (let me know if I should mark something) fluff! maybe some kissing...

Another thing! I've just finished this, so brace yourselves for some mistakes and mispellings, sorry

(I was listening to Kacey Musgraves while writing this, if you want to add more fluff to it)

She’s lovely with that white summer dress, she’s tapping her feet nervously looking around the street waiting for his car to arrive, but Javi is parked on the side of the road chewing a nicorette that has already lost all its taste. He observes how she peeks at her watch. He’s already late and doesn’t know what would make him feel any more terrible: standing her up or going on a date with her like an old creep.

Come on, Peña he urges himself to make a decision, but before he can make up his mind, he hears the door unlocking.

“Hey! I thought something had caught you up” she smiles and any doubts he had had been lifted. Gosh she’s pretty

“Sorry, I’m late I had...” he can make up any excuse and he feels he’s just smiling like an idiot.

“Don’t worry” she seats and adjusts her dress shyly “I see we’re making progress” she motions to his mouth

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been very good.” Javi says proudly and follows the road full of car towards the fair “I haven’t had a smoke in...a month, I think”

“Congrats!” she cheers “You deserve a reward then” she grins

“Sure?” he smirks eying her briefly not losing the sight of the road

“Whatever you want” she nods

“But a cigarette, of course”

“Obvs” she chuckles

“Then I better think for a really good reward, I deserve it”

“Yep”

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She’s talking about the first time she came to the funfair being a child. Javier is listening partially; part of his focus is on everybody around them. It feels like all Laredo is there and they had been stopped a few times already by people that wanted to shake his hand and thank him for his service; and Javi starts to feel like the music is too loud, there’s too many people around them and that he doesn’t want to hear the word “hero” anymore. So he tries really hard to look at her, to concentrate his mind on how she interrupts her speech when she looks directly at him, how she blushes, how the warm breezes moves the baby hairs that frame that beautiful visage, how her lips shine with that chapstick she uses and that he’s dying to taste.

“Anyway we can do any ride but that one” she points at the big one in the middle that spins fast creating a wave of screams and laughter every time it makes a round “Unless you want me to puke all over your pretty plaid shirt”

“You like my shirt?” he smirks

“Yeah” she tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear “You look like a real cowboy” she adds. Her smile is brighter than any of the thousand small lights that illuminate the fair.

“I like your dress” Javier leaves his hand hang languidly close to hers until their skin brushes against each other. When he sees she doesn’t recoil, he grabs her hand locking his fingers with hers.

He can sense her nervousness, but hopes it’s the good kind. The exact same feeling he has at the moment, those soft palpitations that he hasn’t felt in years; the butterflies. Eventually she answers his compliment:

“Thanks, it was just 10$” instantly she looks down at her feet “God! I’m terrible at this”

“At what?” the people look at him and then at her, and then their gaze is fixed on their intertwined hands. Javi knows that the rumors are already spreading and hopes that whatever she’s going to hear about him in the next few days doesn’t ruin this.

“Dates...flirt...this” she points at him and then herself

“I cannot believe that” he counters

“Seriously? hey your dress is pretty; yes it cost me ten dollars” she mimics

“I thought it was cute”

“Cute?” she raises her right eyebrow

“Yes, you’re cute” Javi maintains

“You too” she admits

“Me?”

“Yeah! A pretty cute cowboy in plaid” she laughs

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She makes him forget about this damn town, even Colombia and everything that happens seems a billion years away. If the people around them bother her, she doesn’t say. She doesn’t speak with him like anybody in town after he’s been back. For her it’s just Javi, and this Javi can have fun: he has shared a cotton candy with her, he has done some of the strongest rides even if his back is killing him, he has hold her waist when she jumped and screamed on the Tunnel of Terror and then laughed out loud when they got out.

“Javi!” she calls “We forgot about your reward for your first month without a smoke” she holds his hand and stars running towards the shooting gallery.

“You have five shots to win one of our wonderful set of prices. You just have to hit the little birds once”

The targets come and go up and down on the wheel, the paint on them is chipped, testimony of a long life in these funfairs and many missed shots. She takes one of the guns and closes one of her eyes aiming towards the wooden forms that spin on the wheel.

“Take a look of the plushies, cowboy, I’m gonna win you one” she says cockily

“Yeah, sure” he scoffs

“What? you don’t think I’m capable?” she turns towards him, gun still in her hand

“Wow, first of all, never point to somebody with a gun” Javi grabs the barrel and pushes it downwards “even if it’s not real, and second, open both of your eyes to aim” he explains

“Yes, sir. I forgot you were an agent. I better follow your orders, then” she winks at him and with a deep breath resumes her posture to take her first shot. Failing.

“Shit” she grunts “Have you chosen?” she points to the wall on the right full of stuff toys

“Erm...Does it matter?”

“Absolutely, come on, it motivates me”

The toys are horrendous; surely they’ve been doing their round around every fun fair in Texas for ages.

“Okay, one of the teddy bears” he agrees with a shrug

“No! no! be more specific” she scolds “Do you want the big one? the white one with the red bowtie? the brown with the small farmer hat? Or...Look!” she jumps excitedly “There’s a cowboy one, I’m gonna get you the cowboy” she nods and tries a second time, missing.

Javi mocks her and leans on her shaking in laughter.

“Yeah, really funny. Why don’t you try then?” she passes him the gun. After he has collected himself, he adjusts his posture and aims. Nothing.

She crosses her arms over her chest and observes him with an amused grin.

He doesn’t wait longer until he tries again and misses.

“You only got one left”

“Say goodbye to your teddy bear, cowboy” she whispers in his ear. Her sweet perfume and her voice distract him briefly. For a second he wants to throw the gun away and take her in his arms at last.

Javier shots again

“No luck today, sir, if you want to try again is three dollars”

Javi refuses the man with a gesture; she doesn’t say a thing for a minute, but then snorts and cries in laughter

“You’re lousy shot!” she screams

“You missed too” he defends

“Yeah, two shots, and you three, but who of us is a well trained agent, huh?” she sassed

Javi bites his lip, both hands on his hips; he knows there’s no way to defend his shitty shots.

“I still gained a reward though” he gazes at her

“Yeah, that’s true. What do you want then? I still have a few of dollars on me if you want a sundae or something”

“No, not that” he walks towards her and she instinctively recoils until she’s against the tent of the shooting gallery “I want something sweeter” he places his hands on her waist.

“Wh-hat?”

He bends and holds her at the same time, saving the height difference between them. He just brushes his lips against hers at first until she sighs and comes closer to him standing on her tiptoes. Javi deepens the kiss savoring the fruity chapstick she wears. Her lips are soft and sweet as he has imagined since he met her, her soft moans are music to his ears and he wants to hear more.

“Wow, you’re an incredible kisser, Javi Peña, but a terrible shot” she assures.

#writer wednesday #Javier Peña #Javier Peña FanFic #Narcos #Narcos Netflix #Javier Peña x Female #Javier Pena #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fandom

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emachinescat · 3 years

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The Day that Camelot Forgot

A Merlin Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 24 - memory loss

Summary: A vengeful Morgana casts a powerful curse on Camelot on the day Merlin is named Court Sorcerer, making everyone in the citadel forget that Merlin – and his impact on their lives – exists. She can only maintain the spell for one day, but twenty-four hours is more than enough time for the warlock to get himself into some serious trouble.

Characters: Merlin, Arthur, the knights, Gaius, Morgana is mentioned

Words: 6,444

TW: anxiety attacks, burning at the stake, main character near-death

Note: This story is a bit late, as it was meant to be published on day 24 of Febuwhump, but I got sick, and missed a few days. I did post the first half of it on Tumblr on the 24th, but this is the finished product. I am seriously considering writing a sequel, because there are definitely a lot of ramifications that I gloss over here, a lot of angsty, whumpy stuff that I could (and most likely will) expand upon in another story. But I'll let you read the story for yourself, and see if you're interested in a sequel!

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, and re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

Merlin woke up to a broom head hitting him in the face, which was not how he expected his first day as Court Sorcerer to start.

An indignant squawk escaped him as he rolled off of his bed in an effort to escape the assault. He already had an insult for Arthur on his lips when his bleary eyes cleared and he realized that it had not been the king at all who had woken him in such a manner. It was Gaius, and he was poised to strike again.

"Gaius!" Merlin stammered, scrambling to his feet and dodging another blow from the broom. "What the hell are you doing that for?"

Gaius didn't answer. Instead, looking as mean and ornery as Merlin had ever seen him, the old physician demanded, "How did you get in here?"

Merlin cocked his head to one side, completely nonplussed. "I… live here? I remember turning Arthur's offer for new chambers down so I could stay and care for you – OW!"

Gaius had hit him again. "Who are you?" he all but growled.

Merlin blinked. "Gaius, you know me," he insisted, his heart hammering out his uncertainty at the pulse point in his neck. Something was wrong; Gaius might be cantankerous for his old age, and he might have enjoyed the odd joke at Merlin's expense, but never something like this.

Merlin tried again. "Gaius, it's me… Merlin." When Gaius only glared at him distrustfully from beneath two gnarled eyebrows, he added hopefully, "You know… Hunith's son?"

To his relief, recognition lit in his mentor's eyes at the mention of Merlin's mother, but distrust immediately replaced it. "I have known Hunith all of her life," Gaius said, voice low and measured, broom still held at the ready. "But she has no son."

Real fear exploded in Merlin's chest – fear for Gaius, not for himself. There was only so much Gaius could do with a broom, but if he was forgetting Merlin so suddenly and so completely…

"Ah, I'm sorry," Merlin said as calmly as possible, raising his hands in front of him to show he meant no harm. "My mistake. I'll … get out of your hair."

He darted out of his room, across the physician's main chamber, and out the door, leaving a confused and agitated Gaius in his wake. Merlin prayed that the old physician wouldn't get himself into too much trouble while he was gone, and then darted for Arthur's chambers.

***

He ran into Gwaine on the way – literally, he ran headfirst into the knight, so distracted by Gaius's sudden and dramatic loss of memory. At first he wasn't sure whose ridiculously muscular torso he'd bumped into, and despite his worry, he couldn't help but grin when he saw the bearded face glaring down at him in surprise.

Wait…

Glaring?

Merlin stumbled back.

"Watch where you're going, friend," Gwaine said in response. The way he spoke sent a wave of wrongness down Merlin's spine. He had called Merlin friend, but it was a vague, generalized term. When Gwaine normally called Merlin his friend, the word was saturated with warmth and shone with the light of a dozen charming grins. Now, it meant nothing. And when Merlin looked up into his friend's dark eyes, there was no recognition there. No smile that Merlin had come to understand as reserved especially for the knight's closest friends. Gwaine's eyes landed on him, flashed in brief annoyance, and then skirted off of him almost nearly as quickly.

"Gwaine?" Merlin asked, irritated at the uncertainty in his own voice.

Gwaine, who had already started sauntering away, turned back with a puzzled expression. For just a moment, Merlin was sure that kind, mischievous face was going to open up in an eyes-to-mouth smile like it always did upon seeing him, but then the brow furrowed, and Gwaine asked, "Do I know you?"

Merlin opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He stood there, gaping like a fool, his whole body coiled as if ready to spring into action, limbs numb, fingers trembling, fear wrapping its constricting tendrils around his chest.

Gwaine gave Merlin an odd look, then shrugged. "Maybe we drank together once."

Merlin nodded weakly, remembering not just once, but many times he and the man before him had gone to the tavern together, often with the rest of the knights, sometimes even the king, in tow. He thought of laughter, and promises of friendship and loyalty, and tavern songs and Gwaine standing on top of a table doing a clumsy jig. He thought of the first time they'd gone to the tavern after learning of Merlin's magic, how Gwaine had asked him a million questions that had gotten more idiotic with every drink. ("No, Gwaine, I have never tried to transplant my nose into the center of a rose to see if flowers can smell themselves.")

By the time he had resurfaced from the barrage of memories that Gwaine had forgotten and that Merlin now clung to with a new ferocity, the knight had gone.

Feeling distinctly sick, Merlin resumed his trek to Arthur's chambers, noticing with fresh terror that every person he passed either didn't acknowledge him at all, or gave him a second, bewildered glance like they'd never seen him before, like he had no right being where he was – being in his home.

***

Arthur didn't remember him, either.

Merlin was so near panic when he got to the king and queen's chambers that he almost forgot to knock. Knocking was never something Merlin had been particularly adept at remembering to do, especially when it came to his duties to Arthur, but since the king had married Gwen, Merlin had made sure to amend his habits. There were some things that Merlin absolutely did not want to walk in on, and besides, he respected Gwen too much to risk barging in on her unannounced.

It was Arthur who answered the door, and Merlin was so flustered that he didn't wait for an invitation to enter (when did he ever, though?), and he squeezed his way into the room past the king. Gwen was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank the gods you're here, Arthur," Merlin huffed as he bustled in. "Something very weird is going on. Gaius and Gwaine are acting like they don't know me, like they've never seen me in their lives!"

He turned around to face his friend. To his surprise, Arthur's hand was on the hilt of his sword at his hip, and suspicion rolled off of him in waves. "Who the hell are you?" he asked flatly, blue eyes flashing with an intensity reserved for those who wished to do him, his kingdom, or his loved ones harm.

Merlin had been expecting a joke like this. Arthur was never one to pass up an opportunity to tease his former servant, soon-to-be Court Sorcerer. The dry retort, "Very funny, Sire," died before it could escape his mouth, though, because when he looked at his king, his best friend, he saw no glimmer of recognition. No familiarity. No kindness or warmth or irritated indulgence. Arthur's face was that of a man who had just had a complete stranger barge into his room and started talking to him like they were old acquaintances – which, Merlin was beginning to realize, was exactly what had happened from the king's point of view.

Merlin swallowed heavily and entreated, "Arthur … King Arthur. Please tell me that you know me." Desperation clawed at his throat and infected his next plea. "Please."

Arthur didn't speak, didn't relax his grip on his sword hilt, but he didn't draw the weapon either, which Merlin thought had to be a good sign. Finally, after several long, tense moments, Arthur responded in a slow, cautious tone, "I'm sorry. I have never seen you before in my life. What business do you have with me?"

Merlin's world, everything he knew and understood and loved, crumbled around him in that moment. He staggered back, managed to stay upright by pure strength of will alone. What the hell was going on? The familiar sting of tears pressed against the back of his eyes, and he only managed to keep himself from crying by sheer stubbornness. He took a deep, steadying breath, made a conscious effort to look as non-threatening as possible, and tried very hard not to panic.

"Okay," he said, and his voice shook, so he tried again. "Okay." This time, his voice was steadier. Arthur's glare pounded into him from across the room, and knew that the king's already thin patience was running out. "Something very wrong is happening in Camelot," the sorcerer began.

Arthur interrupted him. "I agree," he said pedantically. "There's a strange man in my chambers."

"I'm not – I am, or I was, your servant."

"My servant's name is George."

Merlin couldn't help it. He groaned. "George? The one who makes jokes about brass? He's your servant in this hellish version of Camelot?"

Arthur sent Merlin a look that was almost pitying. "You are obviously very confused," he said in a surprisingly gentle tone. "But I am king of Camelot, and you have no right to be in my personal chambers. Go now, and I will think nothing more of this intrusion. If you do not, then I will have to treat you as a threat, and call the guards."

Merlin shook his head, unwilling to let this go. In the span of a single morning, his entire reality, the world he and Arthur had worked so hard to build and the future that they were about to step into, his new position as Court Sorcerer, his friendship with Arthur, everything, had been ripped away from him. He had to figure out what could have caused this to happen. He didn't have to think long – who was out there with enough power to make what seemed like the entire citadel forget he existed? Who was angry and envious and vindictive enough to take away everyone he loved on the very day that the culmination of his and Arthur's dreams were finally taking shape?

Even as Arthur stepped forward, hand tightening on the hilt of his sword, preparing to draw it, Merlin blurted, "It has to be Morgana!"

All the color drained out of Arthur's face in an instant. He stood there, frozen, a horrible expression of pain manifesting in his eyes. "How dare you speak of my sister," the king growled, and Merlin actually backed up a few steps, bumping into the end table that he'd polished more times than he could count.

"I know she's a difficult subject to talk about," Merlin managed, striving to keep his voice steady as the grief in Arthur's eyes turned to fury. "But it's the only explanation. Morgana must have cast a curse on the citadel – you have to let me go find her, please, and I can stop this, and the world can go back to normal."

Arthur drew his sword now, and Merlin had no more room to retreat. He stood before his king, his closest friend, his muscles aching from the tension gripping his body, his heart pumping so fast and hard he could feel the flutter in his chest. "Arthur, please–"

"I am your king!" the man who had Arthur's face but spoke like his father spat. "You will address me as such! And how dare you insinuate that the Lady Morgana was a sorceress! What vile game are you playing?"

Merlin's head spun; he had no idea what was going on, how Arthur was currently seeing the world, but he did know for certain now that Morgana was behind it. The reverence and love with which the king said his half-sister's name could only come from a delusion the sorceress in question had placed there. Then something Arthur had said hit home. "What do you mean 'was'?"

The expression on the king's face was faintly nauseated, as if he were being forced to remember something that he had hidden away deep inside, or as if he were actively fighting the urge to cut Merlin down on the spot. Either scenario felt entirely wrong and filled Merlin with a sense of dread. "My sister is dead," Arthur said flatly. "She who would have been queen – should have been queen." Oh, yes, Morgana was definitely behind this, Merlin thought wryly. It was bad enough she had these sick delusions in the first place, but to force everyone in Camelot to play a part in them was equally terrifying and sad. "Struck down by a sorcerer in cold blood."

Merlin flinched at the way Arthur spat the word sorcerer. It had been years since he had heard the title said with such hatred and derision, and never had he heard this level of malevolence for magic-users come from Arthur's mouth. After everything they had been through together, after the joy of watching their prophesied destiny unfold before his very eyes, after hearing Arthur accept his magic and plan to officially declare him Court Sorcerer, hearing the title that Arthur had so often spoken of with pride slide out of that same mouth slicked with hatred hurt. But Merlin reminded himself of the truth – this wasn't Arthur, not really; somehow he was being fed false memories – and he squared his shoulders and looked his king right in the eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said solemnly. Arthur's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Merlin hoped it was a good sign. "But Arthur – your highness – I need you to listen to me, please. I can explain everything. I can try, at least. But your memories aren't what you think they are. Morgana is alive and… very well, considering the power of this enchantment."

"My sister was murdered by magic, and yet you still insist that she is the evil enchantress!" Arthur fumed, and Merlin felt like he was talking to a stone wall, or even more deaf and unyielding, Uther Pendragon. He very seriously considered knocking Arthur out with magic and tucking him away safely in a wardrobe somewhere while he himself went to deal with the sorceress who had caused all this trouble. But Merlin could sense Arthur, the real Arthur, somewhere beneath the surface of those familiar-but-foreign eyes, and he was sure he could break the spell without having to go to the source. Merlin was Arthur's dearest friend, the king had said this himself (and yes, it still counted even if Arthur had been incredibly drunk after a night in the tavern with Gwaine when he said it). And Merlin knew Arthur better than anyone else, save the queen.

I can reach him, he reassured himself. Arthur is still in there, somewhere. I just have to find him. And once he's back to himself, I can deal with Morgana.

"Please, sire," Merlin said, putting every bit of sincerity he could muster into his words. "Just… let me tell you my side of the story. Let me remind you of who I am, and who you truly are. I am your friend, Arthur, and you have said yourself that I am the most stupidly loyal man you have ever had the displeasure to meet." A desperate chuckle lilted his last few words.

"You have two minutes."

"Um, there's a lot to cover, actually," Merlin responded. "Can I have a bit longer, because I don't think–"

"One and half minutes."

"Okay, okay, I'll stick to the basics!" And so Merlin gave Arthur the quickest and most condensed version of their friendship and history he could cobble together in less time than it usually took to exchange greetings with his king in the morning.

He ended with, "And so you see, it makes sense that Morgana would want to sabotage this occasion, because it marks the beginning of a new era that she desperately wants to be a part of but is too bitter and proud to humble herself and change for. She wants to tear us apart, wants you to do something that you'll later regret. But I know you're stronger than this, Arthur. I know that you remember me, deep down. The life you're living isn't yours. Your memories aren't yours. They belong to Morgana, but your mind does not." A strange, almost trance-like mask had descended over Arthur's face while Merlin spoke, and hope started budding in the warlock's chest – he was so close to breaking through, he could feel it.

"So," Merlin prompted, when Arthur did not immediately respond. "Do you remember? Have you realized the truth, sire?"

Slowly, Arthur nodded, and the dazed quality to his eyes cleared up in an instant. "Yes," he murmured. Merlin allowed his eyes to close momentarily in relief; his body sagged against the table at his back. Thank the gods, the nightmare was over. Now all that was left was to find Morgana and make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

But Arthur wasn't finished speaking, and the hardness had steeled his gaze once more, his lips set in a straight line and his jaw clenched and held high. "I have realized that I was a fool to think that you were a harmless vagrant with delusions of grandeur who wandered into the wrong part of the castle. I should never have opened the door for you."

"Arthur–"

"I am your KING!" Merlin snapped his mouth shut, tears once again prickling at the corner of his eyes. The injustice of the situation weighed as heavily on him as his destiny once had. "You are a sorcerer, an enemy of Camelot, here in an attempt to take down Camelot from the inside. But your spells and tricks and poisoned words will not work on me."

"But–"

"Guards!"

"You don't understand, I–"

"Guards!"

***

Elyan and Percival were the knights who dragged Merlin to the dungeons and threw him roughly into a cell. Then Percival clasped his wrists in shackles, which were chained to the floor. The door slammed shut with a metallic clang.

"Percival – Elyan!" Merlin called out as the knights that had only a week ago pledged their acceptance and loyalty to him as the soon-to-be Court Sorcerer and chief advisor to the king. "Please, you know me!"

"You'll die for your treachery, sorcerer," Elyan spat.

The left, and Merlin sank to the cold, damp stone floor, chains clinking. He drew his knees up to his chest, rested his aching head on them, and did his best to remember how to breathe.

***

Merlin wasn't sure how long he had been in the dungeon, but it had to have been a couple of hours at least. He hadn't eaten breakfast because the old man who usually prepared it for him had instead attacked him with a broom. Now, he was certain he had missed lunch too. His stomach growled at him in protest, but the hunger pangs meant nothing to Merlin. Even if the guards dropped off a meal fit for a king, he wouldn't be able to eat a bite. Everything had gone so wrong.

And now Merlin was at a loss of what to do. He could escape the dungeons easily, he knew, and go searching for Morgana. But there were so many uncertainties, a litany of what ifs that railed against him whenever he thought about breaking out of his chains and sending the cell door crashing into the guards holding a silent but hostile vigil on the other side. If indeed he could find Morgana and discover a way to reverse the curse, then it would, of course, be an easy fix. Merlin's failure to connect with Arthur and break the spell himself had planted a seed of self-doubt deeply within the soil of his mind, however, and now what he had been so sure of before he'd tried to fix things himself – that he would be able to hunt down Morgana and stop this madness with magic – seemed like a distant, unrealistic goal.

And if he did fail? If he could not find Morgana, or if she had managed to employ a magic far more powerful or strange than he currently knew how to counter? If he was unable to break the curse? Then Arthur would go on believing Merlin was the enemy, and Merlin would have forfeited any chance of reaching his friend by flouting the king's edict, attacking the guards, and breaking out of the castle.

Merlin had only been able to get through to Arthur in his other life, his real life, by showing the king over a period of years that magic was not something to be inherently feared, not something evil in and of itself. He had had to show the king through his own life and actions the truth about magic, so that when Arthur had at last learned of his secret, it was from Merlin's own lips and with nearly a decade of loyalty and friendship to back up Merlin's assurances that he had only ever used his gifts to protect Arthur and Camelot. Sure, Arthur had been angry at first, and hurt that Merlin hadn't trusted him, but he had come to an acceptance of Merlin's magic much more quickly than the warlock had imagined. King and servant had grown even closer in the wake of the truth, and soon after, Arthur had started drafting plans for making magic legal and had proposed the idea of Melin's being officially named Court Sorcerer.

But if Merlin was forced to start from scratch, to rebuild his relationship with the king – a possibility that pained him deeply but that he was more than willing to do, if it was the only way to get Arthur back and get their destiny on track – then it would not be wise to start that relationship off with a jailbreak. Then again, he argued against himself, neither was blurting out his secret to an Arthur who had already shown great disdain for magic and who held no memory of or loyalty toward Merlin at all. At this rate, maybe it was better to just take the risk and escape, because how in the name of the Triple Goddess was he supposed to convince Arthur of his loyalty if the king most likely planned to execute him for treason?

He almost made his escape then, but something stopped him. At first, he couldn't identity exactly what it was, just a feeling, an uncomfortable squirming in his gut that could have been the voice of destiny, or instinct, or, quite possibly, hunger. But either way, it bothered him enough that he held off on his plans to break out and examined the feeling more closely. Eventually, he realized – if he left Arthur now, especially in the state he was in, alone and unprotected and with Morgana out there somewhere with her eyes feasting hungrily on the citadel she so earnestly believed should be hers, he could be putting the king in more danger. If Merlin wasn't able to find Morgana in time, and she used his absence to ease her way into the citadel and onto the throne, which Arthur would readily give up to her in his current state.. With him under her influence, she could do whatever she wanted to him – kill him, imprison him, break his mind forever… and Merlin wouldn't be there to stop her.

With this thought, he decided to wait it out, and to see how events would unfold. He would not use his magic to defy Arthur or make his escape unless absolutely necessary. After all, he tried to assure himself, there was the very real possibility that Morgana would not be able to hold this powerful of a spell for long. She might be a priestess of the Old Religion, but even she had her limits. Perhaps her plan was to lure Merlin out to find her and then to use his absence to take Camelot for herself, but it was entirely possible that she only had a limited window of time to achieve her goal and that she was counting on Merlin to act on his emotions and search her out immediately.

Or maybe her plan was just to simply wreak havoc in Merlin's life for as long as she could. Either way, Merlin reasoned, her hold over the entirety of Camelot could not last forever. Sooner or later, her grip would weaken and Arthur and the rest of the citadel would wrest their way out of her control.

Merlin just had to survive until then.

***

He was unsure of how much time had passed when they came for him again. No one had brought him food, or water, and no one had come to visit him during his imprisonment, either. Merlin thought it was highly likely that Arthur had ordered any curious parties to stay away; the king had made it abundantly clear that he considered Merlin a dangerous threat. The fact that he had not been given even a hunk of stale bread or a flagon of water sent warning bells off in Merlin's mind – if this strange Arthur was anything like Uther had been, then he knew that he would be executed swiftly and without trial, and there was no need to feed a dead man.

Gwaine and Leon came to collect him. Leon unlocked the shackles and shoved him at Gwaine, who spat at his feet. "And to think I was kind to you this morning," he growled, and Merlin fought the urge to remind him that he hadn't exactly been kind, more indifferent. Gwaine roughly spun Merlin around, wrenched his hands behind his back so hard that pain sliced through his shoulder blades. Merlin felt his hands being bound tightly, expertly behind his back with course, thick rope. He reached into himself and felt his magic, alive, pulsing, ready to rise to his defense, and he took solace in it, but kept it at bay.

Not yet, he told himself.

But he was getting scared, and he was running out of options.

***

They shoved him to his knees before Arthur, who sat unyielding and terrible on his throne, a mirror image of his father. Merlin realized with a start that there was only one throne.

"Where's Gwen?" he asked. Now that he thought about it, the servant-turned-queen hadn't come up when Merlin had told his story to Arthur earlier, and the king had made no mention of his wife. In fact, he recalled with a start, none of Gwen's more domestic touches had been in Arthur's chamber.

Arthur stood, striding forward and looming over his prisoner. "You should have gagged him," he groused. "He doesn't know how to shut up." For a split second, Merlin thought that maybe the real Arthur was beginning to resurface – that was exactly something that he would say! Then he crossed his arms over his chest and asked irritably, "Who is Gwen? Your accomplice?"

"No, no," Merlin quickly assured him, not wanting to cause any trouble for Gwen, wherever she was. It was odd, he thought: Most elements of Camelot had stayed the same in Morgana's living nightmare, like the knights – even the non-noble ones, even Elyan, Gwen's brother, had remained as they were. But Arthur, in this version of reality, had never married Gwen. It made sense if he thought about it, though. Gwen had occupied the role that Morgana had believed was hers, had, in the witch's eyes, betrayed her trust and left her for the man that represented everything Morgana hated. Of course, Gwen wouldn't have her happy ending, her marriage to Arthur, with Morgana in charge. She was being punished as well. Merlin wondered if Gwen had been left with her memories of the real world like he had been, or if she was somewhere in Camelot, living and thinking as a maid when she really was a queen.

To Merlin's relief, Arthur didn't pursue the line of questioning any further. "I have talked this matter over with my council and advisors," he said in a measured voice. A burst of bitterness howled inside of Merlin – he had been named Arthur's chief advisor! He had been a part of the original council, the Knights of the Round Table, when Arthur had first brought them together! And now this illusion of Morgana's had stolen that away from him, too.

Not yet, he reminded his magic, as it raged and boiled and frothed inside of him. Be patient.

He might have been able to control his magic, but he could not keep his sarcasm completely in check: "And I am sure that in your discussion with the council, you all came to a completely fair and totally unbiased decision based on facts and not the unfounded prejudices of your father's rule."

He didn't know what he had been expecting, but it certainly was not Arthur's face flushing an angry red, nor the back of his hand smashing full-force into Merlin's cheek, snapping his head to the side violently. He felt one of the king's rings split the skin on his cheekbone, and thought for a breathless moment that the entire left side of his face had caved in.

He couldn't keep back the lone tear that crawled from the corner of his eye. It didn't come from pain or even shock – but a sense of gut-wrenching betrayal that he could not reason his way out of, even knowing that Arthur was not himself. Even in the state that Arthur was in, even knowing that the king would make plans to execute him, Merlin never anticipated Arthur himself becoming physically violent with him. Somehow, Arthur's hitting him was so much more of a betrayal than a death sentence.

Just. Wait. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to keep his magic from rising to his defense.

"You will learn your place, sorcerer," Arthur hissed. "When you burn. Take him; we light the pyre at first dawn."

***

Fear screamed through Merlin's body like a whirlwind, and coherent thought fled in the wake of his worst nightmares manifesting before him. He had been sure that Arthur would have chosen hanging or even the chopping block, but a pyre –

Merlin had grown up terrified of fires, horrified at the possibility of dying a brutal, torturous death, swallowed and ravaged by flames, all because he was born with magic. Because of who he was.

No one had been burnt at the stake in years in Camelot. Certainly not after Arthur became king. It was a barbaric practice, and even the worst war criminals and traitors were given a swift, merciful death. He had assumed that Arthur would continue that tradition.

But no, when he was dragged out into the courtyard – the sky was dark, but the air chilly and damp, heralding the approaching dawn – a great pyre had been constructed, and the rest of the knights – his friends – had gathered around, their faces lit eerily by the flickering flames of the torches they held at the ready. At least Gaius wasn't there.

You're not actually going to die, Merlin tried to remind himself, dragging desperately for air through his nose, his mouth blocked by his neckerchief that they'd dragged over his mouth in a bid to keep him from talking, or screaming, or just out of pure spite, Merlin didn't know. You can escape. You will escape, and find Morgana, and stop this. You can't delay any longer.

He drew himself up as tall as he could between Leon and Gwaine, calling his magic to his aid and –

He wasn't sure what happened, or how his friends-turned-enemies had guessed that he was about to try something – maybe he had given himself away somehow, maybe they had noticed the change in his stance or a shift in his energy, or maybe Morgana was interfering even now, ensuring that he would not escape his fate so easily. Whatever the reason, just as Merlin drew upon his magic, something blunt – a sword hilt? – crashed into the back of his skull, and everything was pain.

Agony ripped through his head, his neck, and crackled down his spine. Any grip Merlin had on his magic slipped through his fingers, and he fell forward, held semi-upright only by the knights escorting him to his death. He didn't lose consciousness, but he did lose all sense of control over his body and his magic, and the only thing that existed was pain. His stomach churned in time with the throbbing of his head, and his eyes were driven shut instinctively by the light of the torches before him.

The next few minutes passed in a state of distanced terror and pain. Merlin was acutely aware of the heaviness and agony of his head and the nausea in his gut. He also felt every spike of fear, every bit of helplessness, every scream that wanted to rise up from the most primal part of his being. And yet, at the same time, it was as if it was happening to someone else, and he could do nothing about it. Everything hurt and he was going to die and Arthur was going to burn him alive, his friends were going to light the pyre, and he would die in agony, and not even his magic could stop it, because he couldn't feel it, couldn't find it – he was magic itself, and yet it eluded his grasp, all that existed was pain and confusion and his head swam –

He felt, as if from a great distance, himself be hoisted onto the pyre. He felt the rough wood of the stake rub blisters into his tied hands as he was shoved against it, head lolling uselessly as if it belonged to someone else. He felt rope wrap around his torso, his legs, securing him to the pyre, and he tried to lift his head, which rested on his chest, tried to find his magic, but all he uncovered was fear and despair and pain.

He vaguely heard Arthur speaking from somewhere close by – or maybe it was from miles away. He did not understand the words but knew them to be a list of the supposed crimes Merlin had committed – being born with magic the chief of those. And then, far too soon, Arthur stopped talking, and Merlin sensed through his partially closed eyes the knights approaching with their torches, and he felt the warmth of the fire as those torches were lowered to the wood.

Merlin forced his eyes open, thrust his head up and looked at his friends, then beyond them, at Arthur. He maintained eye contact with his king, his brother, his best friend, even as the knights lit the pyre and he felt the heat begin to spread. Merlin didn't know if Arthur could hear him from this distance, if his words would be loud enough, strong enough, or if they would be caught up and consumed in the rising flames. It took every ounce of strength and concentration to push past the pain and call out, as loudly as he could, "I forgive you, Arthur."

And then, as the flames began licking at his feet, his boots, his clothes, something popped. I was as if the world itself had been out of joint, like a dislocated shoulder, and in that moment, the painful but satisfying second of release, it had snapped back into place. The air shifted, the world stopped spinning for the briefest of moments, and then, it clicked back into its rightful place.

The spell had been broken; Merlin could feel it in every fiber of his being – his magic cried out in relief, and it was only then that he realized that it hadn't been his head injury that had prevented him from fighting back, from escaping – it had been a last, desperate attempt by Morgana to get her revenge, to hide his magic away from him just long enough for him to die.

But she had failed. Her power, her hold and control, had finally given out on her, and Merlin felt his magic bubble back to the surface, and despite the pain and the fear, he summoned rain from a cloudless sky as the sun continued its golden ascent and put out the flames.

Around him, he heard yells, and cries, and his name was shouted from all directions, from the mouths of those he loved and trusted and who had very nearly killed him. But his head pounded, and he was so weak, and the fire was out. He slumped in his bonds, eyes fluttering shut, head dropping to his chest.

He didn't even feel the hands untie him. He didn't feel the knights gently lift his too-warm body from the pyre, didn't feel himself being carried into the castle and placed on a bed, didn't feel Arthur's tears of mingled guilt and relief splash onto his face.

He did, however, somehow, amidst the quiet and dark of unconsciousness, hear Arthur's voice cut through the silence, strong and familiar and real. "Gods, I – I'm so sorry, Merlin. My dearest friend, I–"

When he woke, Merlin would embrace his king, reassure him that no lasting harm had been done. He would smile at his friends, clasp hands with the knights and hug Gaius, find Gwen and make sure she hadn't suffered the same disorienting day that he had. He would answer all questions asked of him, and he would assure Arthur and the knights as many times as it took that he did not blame them, would explain Morgana's dark role in everything. He would find Morgana, and make sure that nothing like this would happen again.

When he woke, the world would be right. It wouldn't be normal – after everything that had been done to him, after all the betrayals, even though he didn't blame his friends, it would take a while for normal to come back around. But Merlin would persist, and he would have his friends – his real friends, with their real memories – to help him through it. As he would help them through the ramifications of their own pain, guilt, and regret.

And when he woke, he would be named the official Court Sorcerer of Camelot. He would be given a robe fine enough for a king, but he wouldn't care about that. All that would matter would be him, at Arthur's side, protecting him and fulfilling their destiny. That was how it had always been, and Merlin, when he woke, would look forward to a bright future of peace and hope.

But for now, he gratefully, peacefully slept, knowing that when he next opened his eyes, Camelot would remember.

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Text

BTHB Communication Suddenly Cut Off

@badthingshappenbingo

Original work!

Communication Suddenly Cut Off

******

Hero adjusted her shoulder, elbow on the arm of her chair. "No way!" She dropped her spoon into her bowl of cereal. "She actually said that to him?"

On the other end of the line, Friend laughed. "Oh yeah. I don't blame her a single bit! I mean, he was borderline stalking her. You remember when we were at Max & Erma's and he dressed up as a waiter just to see her? Insane."

Picking her spoon back up and shoveling it into her mouth, Hero mumbled a 'Yeah, guess you're right'.

"So what have you been up to? I missed you at the party today. You doing alright?"

Bending forward with legs bent on the cushion, Hero put her bowl on the coffee table in front of her. She grabbed her phone with a hand instead of holding it between her head and shoulder. Hero was cramping enough without having to take up weird body positions.

"I'm alright," she said. "Just exhausted from work, you know?" Exhausted from fighting a villain you hopefully know nothing about.

Friend was silent for a moment. "I get it. It sucks not seeing you though. Maybe we could have a movie night." Her voice pitched at this. "Be exhausted all you want that way. I'll get us some popcorn. And! I'll get the nacho cheese stuff to sprinkle over it!" Hero smiled in her seat. "I'll pick up a few movies from Redbox, too, so we don't have to watch a bunch of oldies. Okay, that's it. That's the plan. Now," Friend hummed then began mumbling, "It's five o'clock and Mom needs eggs from the store. I'll try to be there by-"

The line went fuzzy, a quiet chshhhhhh. "Friend? Hey, you're cutting out." Hero stood from the chair, walking to the window. Maybe there was better reception there? If it was on Friend's end then it didn't matter much, but she could at least try. "Friend? You there?" She pulled the phone away, the screen of her phone lighting up. Hero was on a second call. No name though. Weird. She hung up, or at least tried to. The screen hadn't changed when she tapped the little red phone. Hero tapped it again, but nothing happened.

Next time she tapped the counting timer that told her how long she was on a call with Friend. The phone call returned normally and the other disappeared. She shook her head.

"H-ero? I th-ink-"

Hero cut to the chase. The call wasn't getting any better. "What time?"

Chshhhhhh.

Damnit, Hero thought, and peeked at her phone again. 'Unknown Caller' it read for a second time. "Hello?" she said impatiently. No answer. "Hellooo?" Nothing.

She hit the home screen, tapping the text message icon then tapped on Friend's contact. 'Hey. Phones are acting weird. What time do you think you'll be here?' Hero typed. Hitting send, a red and encircled X appeared. 'Message failed to send' it said below. She touched the X and then touched where it said 'Retry'. The X reappeared. Hero repeated the process once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. Nothing, nothing, nothing. "What the hell?" Her phone was slow sometimes, but never this bad. "She'll get here when she gets here I guess."

Her phone began to ring just as she tossed it on the couch across the room. Sighing, she went to pick it back up. 'Unknown Caller'. No. If it was important, they could leave a message or text her. Hero didn't pick up from numbers she didn't know, or from numbers that didn't appear on screen. She pushed the lock button on the side of the phone, rejecting the call.

"How rude, rejecting my call."

Hero froze. Her shoulders drew tight, her spine straightened so much that it cramped as badly as when she held her phone with a shoulder. Her jaw clenched and her eyes went wide, staring vacantly at the couch cushion in front of her. Was Hero breathing? If she was, she didn't feel it.

"Won't talk to me on the phone and now not in person either, hm?"

Goosebumps rose along her arms as she heard the villain stepping closer. How had he gotten in? She turned. "How did you find me? Where did you get my information? What else do you know?" Information being both her address and phone number, maybe even her specific phone if he was able to block her communications the way he did.

Villain looked so casual, he always did. You'd never expect him to be a madman who plotted humanity's demise. He looked like a fancy historian; brown pants, black turtleneck, plaid and half buttoned jacket. He had his hands planted in his pants pockets now. Hero still had no idea how he managed to get inside of her apartment.

He chuckled at her uptight-ness. "Can't we just chat for once- for a minute before you question my how-comings and motives?"

"No," Hero responded shortly.

Villain fake-pouted. "How's come? You and your friend seem great. I would love to gossip to you the same way."

Hero rolled her eyes. Her shoulders were still tense, but she was relaxing- not so far that she wasn't prepared, but just enough that she wasn't uptight beyond movement. "You didn't answer me. What else do you know? How did you learn anything about me?"

He smiled at her. "Now that's a fun story. Guess I get to monologue after all."

"Make it short."

"Or what?" He dazzled her with a wider smile, one that showed teeth. Was it just her or were they sharpened? It was just her, definitely just her- and her anxiety, her terror.

Villain strode to the chair Hero had been sitting in just minutes ago. He plopped down, ankle on knee, arms on either side. "Go on," he told her. "Sit."

"Maybe you should stand."

He chuckled without moving. "Darling, I don't think you understand how easy I have been on you. In multiple ways, actually." His eyes fell from her own to the couch behind her. "Sit." Villain looked at Hero again and she swore something changed in his eyes. They almost seemed darker. She obeyed.

"Now, I think you recall that little stalker of your friend?" Hero squinted, but nodded. "Did you know he's able to take up the appearance of anyone he wishes?" He didn't wait for a response. "In that, he's also able to project his own appearance onto bystanders, even control what they would do as him. Very talented, very...mindfully aware."

Hero shook her head. "Where are you going with this?"

He shushed her, softly, as if she was a baby. "He came under my employment about a month ago. Remind me," he said, "how long ago it was that your friend became ill."

Her eyes went wide and she nearly launched from her seat, realizing what he meant. Villain might attack her if she acted out so suddenly though. Hero remained seated.

"What have you done with her?" she demanded. It made sense what he said. Whoever his worker was, he made himself look like Friend 2 then made anyone else appear like him. But where was Friend 2 if she hadn't been with Hero and Friend all along?

"Nothing too dastardly. She isn't starving, but I'm sure she would appreciate a nice chicken dinner."

"And Friend?" she asked, somewhat panicked. Friend was okay, she had to be. Yeah, the phone call ended somewhat abruptly, but that was just because Villain interfered. Beyond that, she was fine, right?

Villain shrugged. "What do you think?"

Her eyes stung with tears she refused to let fall. She shook her head. "Why are you here? What are you doing?"

"Entertaining myself mostly. You're my opponent. I wanted to brag."

"I'll kill you," she swore. "If not tonight, I will find you like you did me, and I'll kill you when I do."

Villain's eyes twinkled from afar. "Cute. Very cute." He laughed heartily. "I told you already that I've been easy on you, right?" Again, he didn't wait for an answer. "I'm here for more than bragging rights. I want you to come with me. I've given you opportunity enough to back down on your own; I'm giving you another now. Come with, or I'll have to force your hand."

Her eyes became squinted and her lip lifted. "I'm sorry?"

"Surrender," Villain said simply. His legs uncrossed and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "If you don't I'll take you away forcibly."

Hero huffed a laugh. "As if you could. When have you ever bested me?" In truth, she was terrified. He was being serious, no amusement crossing his features. And the number of times he'd mentioned 'going easy on her'...what if he was telling the truth?

"Try something now then. Lunge at me." His lips were in a straight line. No emotion.

She considered him. Serious. He's serious. Villain was inviting her to attack him. Maybe she should take the opportunity.

Without another thought, she leaped from the couch, ready to tackle Villain, even though he was in a chair. She would have knocked the whole chair back if she could. But, something stopped her, a- a wall of sorts, one that glimmered like a bubble. "What-?" She touched that wall. Her fingers couldn't pass through. Shaking her head, she spun on a heel trying to return to the couch. Unfortunately she ran into another wall. "You're doing this," Hero muttered, facing Villain once again. She swallowed seeing his smile.

"So, you'll come with on your own. Otherwise I can push you along myself, and I think that would be rather humiliating, don't you?"

"This doesn't prove anything. You can push me, but you can't command me."

"Isn't it the same?" Villain sighed seeing Hero's fiery stubbornness. "Fine then. Let's have a little charade." He stood from Hero's chair, face forming into something...something Hero didn't quite understand. "I forgot to grab something to drink before I came here. Do you have something for me to drink, Hero?"

Her lips moved. "Yes, of course, Villain. Let me show you to the kitchen." Her hand flew to her mouth afterward. She hadn't said that. She hadn't said that. Hero's eyes found Villain's.

"Lead the way," he said.

Hero's feet moved on their own, leading the two to her kitchen despite how she tried to resist. She couldn't even feel herself pulling back. There was no resistance except for in her thoughts. She began unwillingly talking again. "There's some water bottles in the bottom right drawer. Fruit punch juice boxes on the left- though my younger cousin will be disappointed when she finds not only me missing, but her juice as well." 'When she finds not only me missing.' So this was how Villain would take her, by commanding her just like she said he couldn't.

What was almost worse was that what Villain made her say was exactly right. Water bottles, bottom right drawer. Fruit punch juice boxes in the left drawer. One of three things could have happened. One, Villain had that stalker, body-switching guy, go through her home while she was gone. Two, Villain himself went through her house while Hero was absent, or when he somehow snuck into her house while simultaneously messing with her phone today. Three, he had access to her mind. The last one would have sounded ridiculous if it weren't for the way Villain was controlling her now.

"You're realizing you have no choice now, aren't you?"

Hero nodded her head. She couldn't tell whether it was her doing it or if Villain was still possessing her. Either way, he was right.

"Why?" she asked. Villain tilted his head. Hero believed he could have gotten his answer if he wanted. Still, she continued, "Why are you doing this? Taking me? Is it not enough that you've taken my friends?"

Her body turned to the exit. She began walking through, walking to the front door of her apartment. They were really leaving. She was going to get sick.

"I'm tired of you fighting is all. It will be much easier to accomplish my goals if I don't have to worry about turning you away every time."

"Then kill me." She swallowed after she said it. Hero didn't really want him to kill her, but she also didn't want to be taken. Villain said Friend 2 was okay, not starving, but would certainly be happier if she was given more. Hero had a feeling she wouldn't be given the same treatment. Villain might actually starve her because of her putting a kink in all of his plans, for not surrendering when she was given multiple chances to.

"Am I really so awful to be around?" Villain asked behind her as she led the way to the elevators. "I should think my style makes up for any unpleasantness. This jacket was bought yesterday. I'm rather dashing in it, aren't I?"

Just as unwillingly as before, Hero said, "Yes, very."

******

Requests are accepted!

#not a prompt #long post #hero x villain #creepy villain #creepy whumper #hero whumpee #vilain whumper #prompt: communication suddenly cut off #fandom: original work

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