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andreafmn · 1 year

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Speak | Chapter 6

Word Count: 3.7K

Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

Chapter: 6/?

A/N: Alright, alright, here it finally is. The next part of Speak, a story I never thought people would enjoy so much. It still surprises me every time I get a message or a comment about it. Just glad y'all are enjoying it! My content will always be free, but if you’re feeling particularly generous, you can leave a tip on any of my posts to support me and my love of writing🥺👉👈. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 6

It was hard for (Y/N) to focus on the moment for the rest of the night. Her mind kept replaying those few minutes of kindness Paul, a complete stranger, had given her. She couldn’t fathom how someone she had seen only from afar, someone she only knew by name, had somehow seen into her heart better than the boy who had known her most of her life. It was unexpected, thrilling, and just a tad bit terrifying.

She didn’t understand why she felt a strong pull toward him. There she was, in the arms of the person she had pined over from the moment she knew what attraction was, and her mind kept straying to the guy that had gotten her the dream catcher that was hidden in the cruiser like a dirty secret.

The piece felt nothing as such. It was thoughtful and beautiful, and the way it made her chest flutter signified a deeper meaning she could not dig out. There was no reason for her heart to react that way to him. She shouldn’t have wanted to feel his warm skin wrapped around her again, shouldn’t have wanted to inhale his scent or feel his arms against her, not even to see his bright smile once more.

Yet, that’s all she could think of as she helped clean up the night’s festivities. The way he called her name, the way his eyes lit up as she thanked him, the picturesque way his tan skin looked against the snow. And his smile. She could not get the image of his smile out of her head.

“Wait, (Y/N),” Jake called out to the girl as she followed their fathers out the door. His voice broke her out of her trance, a red hue taking over her cheeks. “Could you give this to Bella?”

He handed her a bag, much like the one she was already holding. But this one was beautiful — shiny red with a silver ribbon. It wasn’t crumbled or bent and looked like he’d put a lot of time and care into it. And it was just the bag.

“Is this another candle?” (Y/N) joked, trying her best to hide her disappointment.

“Uh, something like that,” he replied. “It’s just something I’ve had laying around and thought it might cheer Bella up. So, can you please get it to her?”

“Sure, of course. What is it anyway?”

“It’s nothing really,” he chuckled. “Looks like your dad’s ready to go.”

He pointed at Charlie who was glaring at them from the cruiser. His brows were furrowed and his mouth was downturned in an annoyed scowl. The man motioned at his daughter to hurry, his patience growing thin as his eyes followed the hand of the boy on the low of her back. Jake instantly retrieved his arm, flinching as if he’d burned himself with the touch.

“I should…”

“Yeah, you should go.” He bent down to give her a kiss, but she turned her head, his lips pressing onto her cheek. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” she smiled forcefully. “See you.”

(Y/N) was quiet on the ride home. Bella’s gift bag was guarded in her hands, her fingers playing with the delicate ribbon. It took everything in her not to peek into the bag, to see just how much Jake loved Bella over her.

“You okay, kiddo?” Charlie broke the silence as they pulled into the driveway. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Just tired,” she smiled reassuringly. “I might love Christmas but it’s an unbelievably draining holiday.”

“Well, why don’t you head up to bed and I’ll put away the food?”

“You sure?”

“I can manage a few leftovers, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “Now, go on.”

“Well, good night, dad. And merry Christmas.”

“You too, kiddo.”

The girl hurried into the house, snow melting onto her clothes as she sped in. She held three things in her hands – Jake’s two gift bags and the box that stored the dreamcatcher. She had inconspicuously dug it from under her chair without drawing any attention to it from Charlie. She did not have the energy to explain where it had come from.

When she made it up the stairs, before going into her room, she stopped by Bella’s. The gift in her hand burned a hole in her heart that she quickly tried to smother by justifying why her sister’s gift could be better. Her older sister had been here for a long time now, it was more than likely that he’d bought her gift some time ago.

“Hey, the sweater looks good on you,” (Y/N) called out to her sister. The girl had changed from her black zip-up hoodie to the light grey sweater she had gotten that morning from (Y/N). “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Bella sighed. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Uh, yes. But we missed you there.” After she was met with silence, (Y/N) continued. “And, uh, Jake got this for you. He asked me to bring it.”

“Thanks,” was all Bella mumbled before grabbing the red bag.

After another silent moment, (Y/N) took this as a sign that her sister wanted her to leave. A sign she very much obliged to. She didn’t want to know what her boyfriend had gotten her sister that could be lighter than a candle but still warranted a bag. She would continue to be in denial that Jake would always have stronger feelings for Bella.

At the end of the day, she was his girlfriend, she told herself. No matter how long Jacob had pined for Bella, no matter how in love with her she knew he was, he was her boyfriend. (Y/N) was the one that got to kiss him, the one that got to hold him, the one that would be told those three words she already felt for him.

He had chosen her, and that was enough.

At least, it should have been enough.

But as she carefully unpacked the dreamcatcher Paul had gifted her and hung it above the bed, she wondered just how much Jake truly cared for her and how much she cared for him. She had been in love with him since she understood what it was to like someone. He’s always made her stomach flutter and her heart feel warm. And she had finally gotten everything she wanted with him.

Yet, she could not help the warmth that took over her when she thought of Paul, the boy she only knew by name and a short conversation. There had also been that dream. The image she could not shake from her head because it had felt real. Too real.

She had felt the love she had spoken of. After hugging him that night, she knew she had felt the same thing in her slumber. His arms wrapped around her, the warmth of his skin, the sound of his quickened heartbeat. She had felt it all inside her head.

But how could she be thinking of Paul if she loved Jacob? How could any ounce of her brain hold the image of someone she did not know? As she lay in bed, staring at her ceiling, waiting for sleep to overtake her, she thought. Maybe it was a fluke. A glitch in her head that would be corrected the next time she was with Jake. Because that was what she needed Paul to be, a simple accident.

She was laying on the grass in the clearing she knew. The wind was whistling softly, caressing her face gently. The sun warmed her body as it seeped through the trees. She was comfortable, and she felt happy.

Of course, she wasn’t alone.

Centimeters from her face was Paul’s. Their noses were so close she could feel the blow of his breath on her skin. He’d placed a hand on her cheek, his thumb stroking gingerly the length of her cheekbone. It was a touch (Y/N) couldn’t help but lean into, her eyes closing as she enjoyed the moment.

“You’re breathtaking,” Paul whispered as his fingers moved to trace the features of her face. “Absolutely enchanting.”

“You’re just saying that,” she chuckled. Her eyes were still closed as her stomach fluttered at the ghostly touch of his hand.

“It’s true,” he smiled as his thumb traced her bottom lip. “The most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

A deep red hue took over her cheeks, a warmth she tried hiding by lowering her head. Though it was a futile attempt as Paul placed a hand under her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. He smiled at her before placing his lips on hers. It was comforting and kind, and it all felt real.

“You speak like a man in love,” she chuckled, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled brightly. “Is that what you are, Paul Lahote? A man in love?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

“There was a moment you weren’t.”

“Really?” he laughed. “I don’t remember that.”

“Well, it wasn’t too long ago, you know.”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you my whole life,” he smiled. “I just needed some time to catch up. Because I love you, (Y/N) Swan. Always have.”

“So do I, Paul. Today, tomorrow, and every day after.”

She was startled awake by the sound of her phone ringing, and for a second she was disappointed. She was enjoying the dream. She loved and she felt loved. She seemed happy and lively. Her dream self looked like everything she aspired to be.

Her heart was beating fast. In part from the phone, but mostly because of the dream she had just woken from. Once more, Paul had sneaked his way into her head.

“Hey, Jake,” she croaked out. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, did I wake you?”

“No, no. It’s fine,” she chuckled. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to chat,” he responded. “Did you give Bella the gift?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d she say?”

(Y/N) swallowed an annoyed sigh. “Nothing yet,” she responded instead. “She was asleep when we got home, so I just left it on her bedside table with a note.”

“Oh, okay,” he said. “Sorry about the candle, by the way. I really didn’t have any time to get anything good but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s okay, Jake,” she said as she ran her fingers across the dream catcher. “I do have a question for you, and I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.”

“What is it?”

“What can you tell me about that guy, uh, Paul?”

Jacob kept quiet for a moment, probably wondering where the question could have come from. “Why?” he answered. “Did something happen?”

“No, everything’s fine. It’s just I was curious about him,” she lied. “Ever since he showed up to confront you, I’ve been wondering who he is.”

“Well, he’s a short-tempered, cocky guy that thinks he’s the center of attention,” Jacob grumbled. “He’s annoying and overbearing. There were rumors that he used to sleep around before he joined Sam’s gang. Paul Lahote is just a truly awful guy.”

“Oh,” she replied. Everything he had said felt nothing like the Paul that had given her the gift she inspected with her hand. He’d seemed thoughtful and caring, kind and compassionate. But those were merely her assumptions. She’d never met him before then. “He sounds like an awful guy.”

“He is, and I’m telling you, stay away from him.” (Y/N) could hear the seriousness in his voice. Yet, everything inside her screamed that it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. “He’s the type of guy that will use you and break your heart. Seriously, (Y/N), stay away.”

“I will. I promise,” she said, still lying through her teeth. “I just wanted t know who we’re up against if he keeps showing up.”

“Alright,” he chuckled. “So, we’re having a bonfire next week for New Year’s Eve. Wanna come down?”

“Yeah, sounds perfect.”

“Check to see if Bella’s up for it. It’d be good for her to leave the house.”

Of course, she thought. Inviting Bella was always close behind whenever Jake planned anything between them. “Sure,” she said. “I’ll see if she wants to go.”

“Alright, then,” he chuckled. “I’ll see you soon, beautiful. Good night.”

“Night, Jake.”

(Y/N) kept replaying in her head like an unhealthy mantra that Jacob had chosen her. Regardless of his feelings — past feelings — for Bella, he had asked her to be his girlfriend. That was enough for her. It just had to be enough.

***

”So, you just walked up to Jake’s house and gave her the gift?” Jared questioned as he nibbled on a chocolate chip muffin. “That’s just weird, dude.”

“I don’t know. It seemed right at the moment,” Paul exasperated. “I just couldn’t keep it at home like a freaking hoarder.”

“So, instead you went to her boyfriend’s house, who you detest, hoping she was there. Then, you gave her a gift. You, a complete stranger. Downright stalker-ish, man.”

“Well, whatever. She liked it, so.”

“You know, it doesn’t sound like your plan to stay away is actually working out,” his friend chuckled. Paul could only respond with a menacing stare. Jared was only speaking the truth. “Seemed like that imprint bond is too hard to shake, huh?”

“You have no idea,” he sighed, slumping onto the sofa. “I just… ugh!”

“Why don’t you just talk to her already? If it makes you this miserable,” Jared groaned. “I honestly am starting to miss your angry outbursts rather than these mopey ones.”

“Not as tired as I am. But that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

Paul couldn’t admit that he felt something for the girl. Not only was she with a guy he despised, but she was the sister of a bloodsucker sympathizer — it wouldn’t shock him if she became one too. Yet, those weren’t the real reasons he wanted to avoid her. He couldn’t bring himself to introduce her to his world.

He’d been forced into the supernatural. Something in his genetics decided he’d be the town’s protectant. And, sure, he liked being stronger, faster, and supernaturally enhanced. But he couldn’t impose that onto anyone else. He couldn’t expose her to this life and make her keep it a secret from everyone around her. It simply wasn’t fair.

So, he’d continue forcing the first two excuses. To protect her and protect himself. He didn’t know her and he would keep it that way. Even if his wolf had other ideas.

He couldn’t stop his head from flashing the image of her. He couldn’t stop feeling her smaller arms around him, the sweet smell of her perfume, the fast beating of her heart, the warm feeling of her skin. And he couldn’t stop hoping it happened again.

“But wouldn’t it feel great to steal her from Jake?” Jared teased. “Scratch that, I know you’d love it. Mind link and everything.”

“Oh, shut up, Jared,” he grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest. “It’s not gonna happen. So, just drop it.”

“Look, man, it won’t kill you to tell her,” his friend continued. “Look at Kim and me. I would have never had her with me had I been scared of this whole thing.”

“Yeah, and look at Leah, Emily, and Sam,” he responded in a hushed voice. “That turned out so well.”

“Technically, it did,” he retorted. “Sam and Emily are happy together. Sure they went through a lot of shit and people got hurt, but they’re happy nonetheless. And I’m sure you want that for yourself.”

“Look, if it will shut you up, I’ll invite her to the New Year’s Eve bonfire,” he finally relented. “And she’ll probably be freaked out because a complete stranger is asking her out. Oh, and she already had a boyfriend. That’s gonna end so well for me.”

“You never know unless you try, Pauly boy,” Jared joked. “Look, I bet that she’ll say yes. You have a whole week to convince her.”

“What do I get if you lose?”

“I’ll do three of your patrols the week after.”

Paul pretended to think about it, playing into Jared’s gambling personality. But he already knew the outcome. He knew who (Y/N) would be going to the bonfire with, much to his dismay. “Alright,” he grinned. “It’s a bet. What do you want if you win?”

“Same thing. Could use some free time, honestly.”

“Alright then, the loser has to do three patrols for the winner,” he smiled deviously. “It’s a bet.”

And as much as he wanted to relish in his sure win, he was dreading having to actually interact with (Y/N). How could he show up, out of the blue, and try to spend time with her? They didn’t know each other and he’d already done some things that did not paint him in the best light. Worst case scenario, she already thought he was a creep. Regardless, he’d made a bet and he was going to see it through.

***

Jake was confused. Completely and utterly confused.

In the beginning, he was sure of what he was doing. Albeit a bad thing, he did it regardless. He was using (Y/N) as a way to make Bella jealous. To show her just how good of a boyfriend he could be in an effort to sway her heart in his direction. He wanted to help her forget all about Edward and his family.

He didn’t want (Y/N) in the crossfire. He didn’t even know she would be coming to Forks, much less staying indefinitely. But when she showed up at his house, he knew she would be a good piece to play in his game.

Jake had known that the girl had been crushing on him for as long as he’d fallen for Bella. She had not been the most subtle person with her feelings. He also knew of the underlying rivalry the sisters had. It wasn’t hard to notice which of the two was always favored by the parents, as horrible as it may sound. So, he thought if Bella saw how happy he could make her sister, she’d come running into his arms.

Deep down, Jacob knew what he was doing was horrible. He was knowingly going to break his friend’s heart in the hopes that her sister would fall for him. It was awful and calculated, but it was the only way he thought would be fruitful for him.

What he wasn’t expecting was to grow feelings for the girl. Though they were small and paled in comparison to what he felt for Bella, they were there. Especially after he’d caught Paul Lahote staring at her and after he told him to back off. He felt angry and possessive over (Y/N). Feelings he thought were reserved for Bella.

Yet, he couldn’t help the burning ire that overtook him when the guy had shown up at his front door. It had prompted him to ask (Y/N) to be his girlfriend, something he had not planned to do before the encounter. But the mere thought of having something over Lahote was enough to make him act irrationally.

Jacob did care for her, and everything he was doing had started to eat at his thoughts. But the knowledge of what could be waiting on the other side of this whole ordeal was far greater than any regret he felt. (Y/N) would soon enough move on from him, and he could have everything he wanted.

“Jake, my boy,” Billy called out to his son after they finished cleaning that Christmas night. “You and I gotta have a serious talk.”

With evident worry on his face, Jake joined his father in the living room. He sat on the couch across from Billy, wondering just what they needed to speak of. “What’s up, dad?” he asked. “Something wrong?”

“What’re your intentions with (Y/N), son? Last time I checked you were head over heels for her sister.”

“I don’t know, dad. I just like her, I guess,” he scrambled a response. His father had always been observant and wise beyond his years. Almost nothing could get past him. “It’s still very new, so I guess I’m just seeing where it goes.”

“Now, you know how much I care for that girl,” Billy continued. His tone felt almost like a scolding to Jake. “If you’re not sure about your feelings for her, you better let her know. She deserves better than to have you lead her on, kid.”

“I know, dad,” Jake grumbled. “It’s not what I’m doing. We literally have only been together a couple of weeks.”

“As long as you are aware of what you are doing, son. (Y/N) seems strong, but she has a gentle heart. I would hate to see my own child break it.” The cadence of his voice carried a soft tone that felt threatening, seeping into Jake’s bones. His face was stoic, and the boy could tell his father was serious. “That girl is overlooked enough as it is. Charlie is my friend and I care for him, but he’s never noticed how little attention he’s paid (Y/N) over the years. And so has Renée. Now, I won’t have my own son do the same to her. So, you need to decide whether or not your feelings for her are strong enough to get you over Bella. If not, it’s better to let her down gently now than when she falls in love with you. Do you understand me, Jake?”

“Yes, dad,” Jacob sighed. “I promise I’ll get my head in order.”

“Alright then, son.”

Billy turned his attention to the tv, some football highlights lighting the screen, as Jacob left for his room with his head hung low. The boy knew the weight of his father’s words. He understood that everything he was doing will ultimately hurt someone. Someone who didn’t deserve that pain.

Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to tell the truth. That whatever spark of feelings that had ignited in him for (Y/N) was not strong enough to ever put out the fire that burned in him for her older sister. So, if he had to hurt the younger Swan in order to get Bella, he would. Every single time he would choose Isabella Swan.

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ahsfan05 · 1 year

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could i request a whats it’s like to date marilyn thornhill x fem reader headcannons?

Marilyn Thornhill x Reader Headcanons

Description: basically what dating Marilyn Thornhill would be like.

Warning(s): mentions of nsfw

Note(s): Hi anon, I'm sorry this took a while! She is not a murderer or psycho for the sake of these head canons lol. (Also this has not been proofread so there may be some errors present.)

Word count: 572 words

Marilyn strikes me as an incredibly touchy and clingy lover.

She is extremely possessive (and jealous), so does NOT like it when others touch what’s hers.

She always has to be touching you; whether it’s holding your hand, looping her arm through your own, placing her hand on your thigh, or placing an arm around your waist.

If someone else flirts with you she will definitely make it clear that you’re taken. She will just start making out with you.

She loves to cuddle and be held, especially on rainy days. She finds the sound of rain deeply calming and peaceful.

She loves to curl up on your lap, each of you with your own book. Just enjoying being in each other’s company. She could get lost in a book for hours at a time.

She is a hopeless romantic and adores showering you with love and affection. She also gives the most amazing gifts.

She definitely gets in the mood appreciates it when you do romantic things for her, such as, taking her out for a candlelit dinner, running her a bath with her favourite bath salts and scents to help her unwind, or greeting her at the door with a glass of wine and a kiss after and especially stressful day.

She shows her love by giving you flowers with secret meanings, whether it’s for a special occasion or “just because”.

Marilyn would bring carnivorous plants home from work often- all the time if we’re honest!

Her home office is filled to the brim with plants, with lots of pot plants scattered all over her desk.

She spends a lot of time at Nevermore, so she loves it when you pay her little visits. Sometimes you surprise her with flowers (not that she needs more) on special occasions, or bring things she might have forgotten at home.

Most mornings you go to the Weathervane together so that she can get her morning matcha latte and you can get something for yourself.

After you both get your drinks, you share a kiss goodbye and head in opposite directions to your respective jobs.

Since she usually works long hours at Nevermore, you usually arrive home first, but once she arrives at home, she fills you in on her day and tells you cute little stories about what her students especially Wednesday have been up to.

A few little things you love about her: the way her face absolutely lights up when she talks about her job, how her nose crinkles when she laughs, and how beautiful she looks when she ties her hair up (come on, it would be really sexy).

She finds bliss in doing ordinary domestic things with you. For example, she loves cooking dinner together, it’s even become an evening routine. (And an excuse to spend more time with you.)

She is still very touchy when sleeping, though I think she is the little spoon (I know this for a fact, though I don’t know why. But I do not need to explain myself and am not taking criticism at this time lol).

She loves wearing your clothes, especially when she accompanies her students on school outings, or has to travel. She hates being away from you, so she finds it comforting. She also douses whatever clothing she steals in tons of your perfume/cologne. On the other hand, when you wear her clothes she gets really hot and bothered.

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #christina ricci #christina ricci x reader #Marilyn thornhill headcanons #wednesday #wednesday headcanons #headcanons #wlw #wlw headcanons #lesbian #request #larissa weems #Morticia addams #laurel gates #Wednesday addams

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sachiko1309 · 8 months

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I trust you

Summary: Aubrey is slowly working through her past with her abusive father. Carlisle takes his time helping her, after Aubreys preschool sister tells him about Aubreys angel wings.

This is part of a story I write on Wattpad, as I am conviced this man needs more attention. Its called "Save Haven - Carlise Cullen". Feel free to hop over, my account name is in my description. 🥰

Word count: 3508

Warnings: This contains adult content Minors DNI, smut, praise, slight hurt to comfort

After my mother and my siblings had left, I was cuddled into Carlisles arms. We were laying in his bed, after I had taken a long hot shower to get rid of the feelings of the day. He was abstinently painting little pictures on my arm, making my heart stutter every now and then. I knew he could hear it, because every time my heart skipped a beat, he stopped what he was doing looking at me with smug eyes. “You can hear it, can you?” I asked, turning onto my back. Carlisle was laying on his side, propped up on one elbow, looking down at me softly. “I can.” He simply answered. I knew his senses were sharper than those of normal humans, he told me that much, but I didn’t exactly know how much he could sense.

“How good do you hear it?” I asked, suddenly very anxious for his answer. Looking out of the window, he chuckled. “I can hear the cars pass on the highway.” My eyes went big on his confession. “That’s like five miles away.” “4.6.” He corrected me.

“Oh my god.” I felt my face flush bright red. “So, you hear everything? How can you stay sane with that? I mean you work at a hospital doesn’t the noises get too much.” But then it hit me. Eyes widening even wider. “Wait, does that mean you can smell my blood too?”

My utter confusion and embarrassment made him laugh with his soft tenor, that made my heart flutter. “Yes. I can hear and smell everything of you.”

“What do I smell like?” I asked, now wondering, if he found it appealing. He rolled on top of my, pressing me down into the mattress. “You smell like a sweet flower bed. It reminds me off apple blossom and bluebells. Very intoxicating to be honest.” Then he started kissing my face, placing soft little touches all over it. “I can hear how your heart stutters, when I touch you, or kiss you. I can smell, when you are afraid, or when you are getting aroused. The later really does get hard to ignore sometimes, because it makes me want to rip the clothes off you.”

“You know when I…?” I stared at him in pure horror. Thinking back to all the times I was secretly ogling him. Well apparently, not that secretly. I mean I knew Edward could read my thoughts and Jasper feel my emotions. That’s something I had to get used to, but learning that Carlisle was able to pick on to it made it even more embarrassing.

“Yep. Every time your hormonal balance changes I know it.” He cockily said, nudging the tip of my nose. “But don’t worry. You are not the only one that has a hard time keeping their needs a secret. I swear Edward would have thrown up many times, if he would have been able to.” Hiding his face in my neck, he took a deep breath, inhaling my scent, a low growl rumbling through him. It should have scared me. Should have made me want to run away from him. But in that very moment, something unraveled deep inside of me. I was home. He was my home.

“Carlisle.” I whispered, my voice inches from tipping into a sinful moan. Instantly, his head shot up. Eyes hungry. Black with lust. “Get out.” He groaned, eyes not leaving mine. Only seconds later, I could hear the front door loudly fall into its frame. I knew they only did it for me. “You send them away.” I concluded, unsure what to say or think. As if he sensed my fear, he backed off, leaning back on his knees. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He said, voice strained like he was fighting internally for control. “We don’t have to do anything. Its just precautious.”

Sitting up, I reached out for him. My inner need to touch him nearly unbearable. “Just be careful.” I whispered.

“Of course, love. Whatever you need.” Slowly he came back to me. Pushing me into the bed once more. As he towered over me, I couldn’t decide whether I was scared or not. His presence making me feel safe and anxious at the same time. “Don’t be afraid, my love. I wont hurt you, I promise.” He said, taking my face into his cold hand. “We have all the time in the world.” Bending down for a kiss he wrapped me in his arms. Holding his weight with one hand on top of me, while the other carefully wandered down my side. I shrieked, when his cold skin touched my sensitive side, causing him to pull back. But as fast as I could I put his hand back. “You’re just cold.” I mumbled, a tiny smile on my lips.

My words made him chuckle. “You told your mom you wanted me to take more action.” He said, slowly pushing his hand underneath my shirt. “Tell me, when I am overstepping a boundary.” His voice was es soft as butter, smoothing over the last doubts I had according to this happening. I tried my best to stay focused, but my shaky voice snitched on how much he affected me: “You have been listening in, on our conversation.”

He started kissing my neck, sucking my skin between his teeth. “I would view it more as making sure, my girl is alright.”

“Your girl.” I moaned, head starting to cloud from his scent.

“You like that? Me calling you my girl?” His voice didn’t hide the smile forming on his lips, when he kissed down my throat. I could feel him taking the collar of my shirt between his teeth, tugging on it. “Stop playing with me, Carlisle.” I whimpered, arching my back into his hands. “Take it off, please.”

“Answer me first.” He whispered. Lips back on my ear. The sweet growl that was accompanying his words, send shivers down my spine, letting my hair stand up in goosebumps.

“Yes, Carlisle. Please.” I begged, sighting heavily, when he finally took my shirt off. Now I was only wearing soft blue panties. His eyes instantly trained on my bare chest. I could feel the blush creep into my cheeks. Suddenly feeling way out of place. I shrunk into the bed, trying to hide behind my hands, but he just pulled them away. “Don’t hide from me, love. You are beautiful.”

“I am not. I have scars all over my body. And you… You are this godly creature, literally sculptured from marble. Compared to you I am nothing.” I whispered, feeling the tears prick in my eyes. Taking me into his arms he pressed me down into the bed, as if he wanted me to be protected from everything. “Love no. Don’t think about yourself like that. You are the most beautiful woman on this planet, angel.” My eyes shot up at the new nickname. “What did you just call me?”

He sighted deeply. “Emilia told me. She wanted me to know, that you have angel wings how she calls it.” I froze on the spot, a sick burn starting in my stomach. “What else did you find out today?”

“I know everything, what you and your mom spoke about.” He answered and I could hear the apology swinging in his words.

“So you know, I got my tubes tied? And that I nearly got killed at eleven?” I asked, pushing him away, so I could look in his eyes. He nodded. “I do and I don’t care. To me you are beautiful and strong no matter what.” He stayed silent for a while, before he spoke again. “Can I see them?”

“What?” My eyes shot up.

“Your scars. Will you show me?” There was nothing but pure honesty in his eyes. That’s probably what made me give in. Nodding I pushed him back, then turning onto my stomach. As soon as his eyes landed on my back, he took a sharp breath.

“I have scars all over my body. But my back is the worse. That’s why I got these wings tattooed. I wanted something else than my scars to stand out.” My voice was thin. I didn’t dare to speak up, fearing I would break out and cry.

“Its beautiful.” He whispered. “Can I touch it?”

“Yes. It doesn’t hurt. If that’s what you were wondering.” I allowed him. A cold hand faintly brushing over my skin. “Good to know. But I was merely checking for your consent. I don’t want to push anything onto you.”

“God, Carlisle.” I sighted. “You could never. You are perfect in any way.” He chuckled at my words and I could feel the bed dip underneath me, indicating he was moving around. And indeed, seconds later, I could feel his cold presence hovering over my body, icy lips kissing my back.

I reached out for his hand next to my head, clamping my fingers around his wrist. He sank down on his elbow, taking my hand into his bigger one. The new intimate position, suddenly making me feel hot. Blindly I tugged on his shirt. “Carlisle. I need you. Please.” My desperateness jumpstarted him into action. A soft twirl of air indicating his movements. Before I could even fully comprehend, what was happening, he was back on top of me. Now I could feel his cold chest on my bare back. Strong thighs pressing my legs apart, the feeling of cotton pressing against my lower back. So he had left his boxers on.

Again, his cold lips were smothering my body, this time much rougher and more demanding than before. He was caging me in between his hard body and the soft bed. Cold hands gripping my hands, playing with my fingers. Involuntarily I bucked my hips against his lap, when he sucked the soft skin underneath my ear between his teeth, making him growl out at the sudden contact. Him growling like that, stirred something deep inside of me. Ripping out a sudden urge to submit to him. To let him guide me through everything. “Carlisle.” I called out, pressing myself against his body. Only to be met with his strong chest pressing me down. “God, please. I need you.” Whimpering, begging for more. “Angel.” He groaned, bucking his hips against me.

At this point, I was sure; my panties were soaked. And by the way he was frantically jumping backwards, crashing into his big bookshelf, my assumption was confirmed. I turned onto my back, shuffling towards the headboard. Looking back up to him, I could see his eyes trained between my legs, nostrils flaring, muscles as tense as could be. “Aubrey…” He whined, clenching his fist on his side.

“Its alright Carlisle. I trust you.” I purred, spreading my legs further for him to see.

“What if I hurt you?” He growled. “This is not right. We should stop.”

“You wont hurt me.” I retorted.

“You don’t know that!” He nearly yelled, tilting his head back. I gulped hard. Seeing him irritated that much, send a shiver down my spine, reminding me of my father. I took a deep breath, pushing the unwanted thought out of my head. “What can I do, to make you feel better? I want to help you. Tell me, what can I do?” His eyes snapped back onto my face. “Promise me to tell me, when I hurt you.” He rasped, slowly walking towards the bed.

“Promise.”

He knelt down on the bed, eyes again wandering over my body. “So beautiful… so, so beautiful.” Mumbling he froze on his spot, just looking at me. I stretched out an arm, leading his hand towards my body. “You can touch me.” I whispered, suppressing the shudder that went through my body at his cold fingers. “Touch me where ever you like. Just please, for the love of god, stop holding back.”

“I have to hold back, love. One wrong move and I could kill you.” He gritted out between his teeth. I rolled my eyes, sinking back into the covers. “That’s not what I meant. I was talking about your 1600s stuck up gentleman attitude. Its making it worse not to crush on you any harder. More action. Remember?”

My confession, plastered a wicked smile on his face. “You want more action, love?” He growled, crawling on top of me.

“Carlisle, please.” I breathed out, my voice dripping in need and desire.

“Such a needy little girl.” He teased. “I will take my time with you, there is no rush for us. You deserve to be taken care of.” The fingers of his right hand wandering over my body, taking paths of pure sensation, getting more and more intense, the longer he took his time. Writhing underneath him, I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him flush against my core. Slowly, he started grinding his hips against mine, causing the first moan to roll over my lips.

He caught my lips with his, letting his cold hand flutter between us. I was in heaven, when his fingers finally found my core. My brain foggy from his scent, his touches, his lips. My body reacting to his touches automatically. Suddenly, I could hear fabric tearing, then his cold fingers found their way to my folds. I gasped at the icy feeling, pulling away from his lips. My lungs sucking in the air, causing my head to spin at the sudden overflow of oxygen.

Then I felt the first finger, entering my core, clasping onto his shoulders, I stiffened up. Stopping his actions, Carlisle kissed the side of my neck up and down, whispering into my ear: “Let me take care of you. You are safe.” Taking a deep breath, I did exactly as told. Relaxing as much as I could. Once he realized, I gave up my barriers, he pushed another finger inside of me. Scissoring them apart, creating a steady rhythm.

I closed my eyes, lips hanging open, the faint sound of his name, flowing through the room. A hot fire started burning deep inside of me, threatening to take over my whole body. “You are doing so good. Taking my fingers so well, love.” He praised me, voice soft like silken ropes. Carefully he pressed his thumb onto my clit, circling it, while his fingers massaged me deep inside. I could feel the blood rush up to my face, painting it in a light pink shade, my breathing going ridged and abrupt. Hearing my heart beating so loud in my ears, I nearly missed his murmurs. Sweet little praises.

His mouth wandered all over my neck and my chest, sucking purple bruises all over my skin, before kissing the sharp pain away. I could feel my legs shake, the fire in my stomach burning brighter than before. My walls started to flutter, sucking in his fingers. Eyes rolling into the back of my head, I grabbed his arm, his name ringing through the room, at the suddenness my orgasm washed over me. Carefully he pulled his fingers out, placing his cold hand onto my throbbing core. I just dwelled in the feeling of my subsiding orgasm, forgetting everything around me for a brief moment. The only thing spinning through my head was Carlisle.

“Carlisle.” I mewled. “I want more. Please.” Instead of answering, he pressed his lips on mine, kissing me with such passion and longing, that he had my head reeling. His hands roamed freely over my body, grabbing a hold of everything he could. I shivered under his cold touch, yearning for him to finally fuck me. I wanted him so bad, that I didn’t care how desperate I seemed, letting my hands wander to the waistband of his boxers I tugged on them, signaling him what I wanted.

“Are you sure, love? We don’t have to…” He was still concerned for my wellbeing, but I just couldn’t hold back anymore: “Stop being so nice and fuck me already.” My voice lazed with hunger and anticipation must have been what finally broke down his walls. One deep growl on his lips, he ripped his boxers from his body, resting between my legs.

Looking me deep into the eyes he eased his member into me. Arms propped up on both sides of my head. I hissed at the intrusion and the slight pain the stretch brought with him. He was packed. Not like disproportionate, but definitely something to get used to. One slow final push he bottomed out, pulling a wretched moan from my lips. “I am sorry, love. I promise its going away.”

“Lucky thing you have a second function as a cooling pad.” I joked, trying to ease the tension. It worked, because one of my favorite soft smiles crept onto his face. Shaking his head he slowly started to move, always checking in if I had any pain. Soon the weird feeling of being filled, subsided completely pushed away by another fire. Stretching my walls heavenly every time he pulled out and pushed back in.

I let my hands wander from his neck to his shoulders, holding onto him, pressing my chest against his. A soft moan escaping my lips. “Do it again. Let me hear how much this pleasures you.” He growled, picking his pace up once he saw how I melted in his hands. “Carlisle!” I yelped. “More I need more. Please. I want to be your girl. Let me be your girl. Claim me as yours.” I was babbling before I could even think about what it would do to him.

“God, Aubrey…” He groaned. “You are the death of me, I swear.” But when he heard me call out his name again, all of his self control seemed to have vanished. Taking one leg in his hand, he threw it over his shoulder, effectively thrusting into me deeper than before. His pace started to become ruthless, the grip on my thigh surely bruising. But I didn’t care. I wanted him to let go. Seeing him fall apart for me.

“My pretty little mate. All mine to have. All mine to fuck.” He snarled possessively, making me moan in return: “Yes, take me, Carlisle. I belong to you.” Grabbing my wrists with his hands, he pinned them down over my head, caging me in under his tall frame. Eyes not leaving mine and if it wouldn’t have been for him to hold be like this, I was sure I would have been pushed against the headboard by now. But I didn’t care. In no way would I stop him right now. His cock was hitting my spongey sweet spot deep inside of me, every time he thrusted into me. Mewled sounds were falling from my lips, mixing with his strained growls. I could see he was holding back for me. Both, his strength and orgasm. That shoved another wave of hot pleasure through my body. “I am close…” I whimpered, my core pulsating around his hard cock. “I know. I can feel it, my love. Just let go for me, angel. Do it for me. Cum for me.”

At this point my legs were trembling around his waist, my whole body shuddering in pure bliss. And then my second orgasm pulled me over the edge. Letting me fall into the deep abyss of pleasure. Arching my back, I wrapped my legs around his waist, fighting his hands pinning me down. I moaned out his name over and over again the waves of my orgasm seemingly never ending. Having me this worked up underneath him, pussy pulsating for him, his name being called out in pure satisfaction, dragged him down as well. I could feel his cold seed shooting into me, painting my walls white. He growled into my ear, sinking his teeth into the pillow beside me, effectively destroying it.

It took him a few moments to catch his demeanor again. Pressing me close to himself he turned around, pulling me on his chest. “You did so good, love. Took me so well.” His breath fanned over my face, lulling me to sleep. “I promise I will always love and protect you. You mean everything to me. You are the sole being of my existence. My heart, my soul, my everything.” Listening to his sweet ramblings, I cherished the intimate moment that surrounded us, to my dismay interrupted to soon, by his seed trickling out of my core. Wriggling out of his arms, I tried to get up and walk over to his adjoined bathroom, but he was quicker.

Scooping me from my feet, he carried me over, sitting me down on the edge of the bathtub. To quick for my eyes to process it he was kneeling in front of me, cleaning the sticky residue from my thighs and between my legs. Then he carried me back to bed, but I interrupted him. “I need to brush my teeth first.”

Turning on his heels, he walked back sitting me down once more.

#fem reader #carlisle cullen #carlisle x reader #smut #fluff #twilight

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animalsalvationassociation · 9 days

Note

For any of your OCs

🌖 - What is your OC’s favorite scent? Is it nostalgic?

🌗 - How much does your OC care for their appearance? Are they vain? Are they well-dressed or strictly utilitarian?

🌘 - Write a flowery description about an aspect of your OC: appearance, personality, past experiences, etc.

🌑 - Hint at your OC’s darkest secret.

🌒 - Under what circumstances is your OC their most genuine self?

Thank you for the asks @casp1an-sea & @firowisteria appreciate it sm!

Ya’ll are probably so tired of seeing Emma, I’m sorry but I'm literally an Oc artist, what can I say?? (This is a bit of a long one, I hope you like reading! Don’t worry there are pictures too lol! 🖼 I spent a lot of energy on all of these, my brain is very soupy rn tbh)

Ask #1:

🌖 — Sea Salt & Hibiscus Flowers . . .

(I’ll fix the coloring on this one later, I literally didn’t see how much of his colors I actually failed to put in until now. Fixed it 🙃 — Also why are reptiles so much harder to draw than mammals???)

🌗 — Sincerly Emma will throw on anything that feels comfortable. Most times it’s not even her’s. Although in public she dresses better than she feels. Sometimes you’ll see her walking around with sun glasses just to hide the bags under her eyes.

(This is just a sketch so we’ll see if I get around to finishing it later. I was struggling because Emma is supposed to be a lot taller but I didn’t measure the proportions very well. I was just trying to figure out how to draw a gosh darn grocery cart!)

🌘 — Emma is truthfully just doing her best. I don’t know how else to put it. She puts all the world’s problems on her shoulders and expects very little in return. At the end of the day she knows bad things will happen, but as long as they happen to her she doesn’t mind all that much.

She’s constantly throwing herself at problems just to keep her friends and family safe. Her worst fear is letting her team down and she likes to beat herself up if anyone where to get hurt on her watch. She’s had a lot of hospital visits and bed rest days if you know what I mean. But at the end of the day she’s still a very sad individual and isolates herself from everyone.

(It’s partially the Maned Wolf in her, they aren’t really pack animals if that makes sense)

Ofc Emma has a team that loves and cares about her, and in a way they’re like her family aside from the A.S.A. She’d do anything for them. I think it’s just a matter of not wanting to be in their way. She hates being selfish, but sometimes just a hug can heal the day’s strains.

🌑 — . . . ❤️‍🩹

(My babiesssss)

🌒 — When Emma is with her team nothing can stop her . . .

(I wonder if they’ll notice how I didn’t mention anything about Kwazii . . .)

Ask #2:

This is such a good question, I’m not joking! Thank you so much for asking @firowisteria !!! Also I believe what they are referring to is the branches of the A.S.A. so let’s get into it.

C.L.A.D.E. — Justice/Legal Department

S.O.S. — Coast Gaurd/Aerial Protection

S.S.Jade — Forest Conservation

R.S.R. — Animal Rahabilitation/Reserves, Search and Rescue

The Octonauts — Ocean Safegaurding

Thank you again for the asks! That is now 5/8 of the original asks done! Phew! Thank you to everyone who continues to send stuff in, it may take a long time to put each one together but it’s still very fun for me! Have a wonderful day and here’s a cookie for those who made it this far! 🍪

#octonauts #octonauts story #octonauts fanart #octonauts above and beyond #octonauts the asa #octonauts redesign #digital fanart #octonauts oc #octonauts redesigns #fanart

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collaredattachment · 1 year

Text

Break Me Down and Hold Me ‘Til the Dawn

Character: Melissa Schemmenti

Word count: 3,708

Warnings: Praise Kink

Genre: Smut, Comfort, Fluff

Rating: E

Description: “When you say stuff like that,” she says, slower than usual, like she’s figuring out the words as she goes, “I… I like it.”

It’s an admission of the obvious, the most basic instinct of any person: to desire approval, and she makes it sound like she’s turning herself in for manslaughter.

You take care to keep your voice calm as you say, “Why would I think that’s stupid?”

“I mean,” she says and then pauses for a breath, “I mean I really, really like it.”

---

Melissa has a secret and you crash right into her confession.

A/N: Strap in for the most emotional smut i’ve written to date. It’s so sugary you should probably brush your teeth afterwards. Title pulled from Spiritbox’s The Summit

---

The door slams shut at 7:30 sharp.

You rise from your downward dog on the living room floor and scramble down the hall, head rush be damned.

“Melissa?” you ask, but only hear the rustling of her leather jacket and the thump of heels ill-suited for the weather being angrily dumped by the door. Weary and barely standing, Melissa leans against the wall, her shirt damp, hair dripping and her eyes furiously staring at the umbrella she forgot to grab in her hurry.

You kiss her cheek and she slumps against you, face buried in your shoulder.

“Long day?” you ask.

“Understatement of the year.”

She pulls back and you notice the circles under her eyes, much darker than they had been last night. You put your hand on the small of her back and inch her towards the kitchen.

“Come on, I made dinner.”

Melissa looks at you like you’re made of cotton candy or fire trucks and presses a wet kiss to your forehead before letting her heavy feet drag her towards the smell of sweet potatoes.

She collapses into a chair by the kitchen table and you dash to the covered pot on the stove, still simmering on low heat. The second you lift the lid, the kitchen is filled with the scent of vegetable soup, rich and creamy. You fill a bowl and grab the leftovers of the ciabatta Melissa had made two nights back.

“I added extra pepper for you,” you say as you sit down next to her. The bowl clinks against the table and a few drops flow over the edge into a small puddle. “And there’s a bit of bread left.”

“You’re a godsend,” Melissa says. She pulls the bowl closer and sighs; her first smile of the night, and what a sweet little thing it is. Her eyes flutter closed as she tries a spoonful and doesn’t speak for the following five minutes, which she instead dedicates to inhaling her first meal since lunch.

“What were you doing so late?” you ask once she’s emptied the bowl down to a fifth.

“Grading.” Melissa tears off a piece of bread and dips it into the soup. She takes a bite, barely chews before swallowing, and continues, “Setting up next month’s lesson plan, looking for a math textbook for Amir because the little dip lost his copy, replying to emails.” She sighs. “So many fucking emails.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re home now,” you say. A strand of Melissa’s hair threatens to fall into her bowl and you tuck it back behind her ear, where it belongs. Melissa smiles faintly, even though her shoulders are heavy with exhaustion and her eyes can barely stay open.

She finishes her meal in silence and once she’s done, rises with a grumble to drop her dishes in the sink next to yours; the ones you’d meant to put in the dishwasher an hour ago.

Melissa turns and opens the cabinet only to groan at the sight; breakfast cereals and spices and your growing collection of baking supplies, all stuffed inside with little thought as to how you’re supposed to get anything out.

“Do we have any tea?” Melissa asks and starts to remove things one by one, her left hand held above her head in case something comes tumbling down.

“I think I saw chamomile behind the cake tins.” You get up and drag your chair with you. Sure enough, behind the heart-shaped mold and the powdered sugar is a bag of loose chamomile, still good to go. You hand it to her, and Melissa nods a silent thank you.

The kettle sits by the sink, freshly washed after you’d made yourself a cup of milky oolong earlier today. Melissa fills it with water while you hop down and put the chair back by the table.

The running water mixes with the pouring rain outside and you relish the quiet; the type of silence that Melissa always brings home with her, the kind that feels like its own form of music.

You wrap your arms around her waist as she turns on the stove and bury your nose in her hair.

“I’m so proud of you,” you say, almost kissing the words into the back of her neck. Melissa laughs, hushed and short.

“What for?”

“You do so much for those kids.” You inhale her perfume; the scent is heady and sharp, like ground cinnamon. “They’re everything to you. I love you for it.”

“Come on,” Melissa says. “Everybody does it.”

You turn her around by the hips and press your palms into the counter.

“No, they don’t. There’s plenty of terrible teachers out there and we both know it. You just love doing a really good job.”

Melissa braces herself against the edge of the stove, her fingernails clicking a nervous ta-ta-ta-tap into the ceramic.

“Don’t most people? I mean I just—“

“No.” You kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re brilliant. Incredible. My wonderful Melissa who does the most thankless job in the world for peanuts. You should be on a tropical island somewhere with six hundred free mai tais lined up. And a private pool. You deserve nothing less.”

Melissa averts her eyes and slips past you to the sink. She fishes a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water. She doesn’t drink; only watches the surface without saying a word.

“Melissa?” you ask.

Her cheeks are thinly flushed and she won’t look at you.

“Hey,” you say and take a step to close the distance. “Are you okay? Did I say something?”

“No,” Melissa says weakly. Her eyes flit from you to every corner of the room and then back again. “That’s not it, I’m sorry.”

You close the distance, your hips bumping together, and take her hand into yours. “What’s going on?”

Melissa watches you, conflict carved into her teeth as they gnaw at her lower lip. She puts the glass down and takes a deep breath.

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” she says, and there’s the faint tremor of a laugh in her voice, an attempt at levity to keep the long claws of something serious away from the conversation.

“Why?”

“Because it is.”

You frown. “I highly doubt that.”

Melissa stands in silence for a moment and you wait, nearly breathless, until she finally looks up; right past you and out the window into the brewing storm.

“When you say stuff like that,” she says, slower than usual, like she’s figuring out the words as she goes, “I… I like it.”

It’s an admission of the obvious, the most basic instinct of any person: to desire approval, and she makes it sound like she’s turning herself in for manslaughter.

You take care to keep your voice calm as you say, “Why would I think that’s stupid?”

“I mean,” she says and then pauses for a breath, “I mean I really, really like it.”

You stare at her, confused. The gears in your head turn and turn, and her words roll themselves over, back to front and inside out, until finally, like striking a match, it hits you.

“Oh.”

You remember, then, a moment from two weeks ago, when you were picking Melissa up from work.

You had been standing by the door with your phone in hand, waiting while she packed up, when someone had knocked and gone in; a woman of around 30, probably a parent to one of the students.

You really tried not to eavesdrop, but you were curious; it would be interesting to see Melissa in action instead of hearing a story over dinner, afterwards.

Besides, your stomach was growling and Melissa had promised you a double halloumi burger on the way back and you really just wanted to get going. They wouldn’t take long, right? Better that you’re close by.

The conversation had, luckily, been short, and mostly concerned a Jenna — how she’d be needing a little help catching up once she got back to school after her grandmother’s funeral.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Schemmenti,” the woman had said. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Really, it’s all right. Don’t worry about it.”

“I mean it.” There’d been rustling, and a slightly panicked grunt. Melissa must’ve been caught in a hug. “Good girls like you are few and far between. We’re lucky you happen to be so close by.”

After that the woman had left, even nodded you goodbye as she went. A few minutes later, Melissa had appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath and her eyes out of focus.

She’d dragged you to your car by the wrist and fucked you silly in the Burger King bathroom.

The kettle’s whistle rips you back into the present like an air raid siren.

Melissa watches you, shoulders squared with tension, an anxious frown strewn across her face. She clears her throat and takes an unsteady step back.

“I knew this was a shit idea,” she says and drops her gaze to the floor. She retreats further, unsure of where to put her hands as they card through her hair, skim her pockets and then finally settle, crossed in front of her like a door slammed into your face. “Forget it, okay. We can pretend this never happened and—“

“No, wait.”

She freezes, one foot over the threshold. You take the screaming kettle off the stove calmly, walk to her in silence and take her face in your hands, your grip firm enough to keep her from looking away.

“You are gorgeous,” you whisper. Melissa follows as you lead her back into the kitchen, one clumsy step at a time. “Every time you smile I think ‘This is it, this is how I’m going to go’. My heart stops and then you laugh, and it starts right back up again.”

Melissa’s back hits the fridge door, and you hear a souvenir magnet clatter against the floor.

“You are a goddess in leather, okay? The jacket and the pants together — Jesus Christ, Melissa.”

She’s very quiet and very still, save for her breathing, short and nearly panicked. The way she stares at you briefly makes you wonder if you’re doing the right thing, if you’re stepping over a line she wasn’t fully ready to cross, but then the corners of her mouth tip slightly upwards, and you know you have to keep going.

“You’re doing so well, honey. This is new to you and you’re scared and a little embarrassed, but you’re being so brave, so attentive and so, so good.”

You kiss her lips once, quick and soft as a feather.

“You’re my good girl, Melissa.”

The earth might as well have split in half with how rapidly the atmosphere changes; something invisible snaps as Melissa takes you by the hair and kisses you breathless.

Her lips are ravenous as she trails a line of sharp, hungry kisses down your neck and with one swift twist it’s your back against the fridge, your head bumping against holiday photos and last week’s grocery list, her leg nudged between yours.

“Please don’t stop,” Melissa whispers and then her teeth pierce the skin right above your collarbone, straddling the edge of just enough and too much. It pulls a thin whine from you, a sound she knows and translates into please dear god keep going.

“You’re being so good, honey.” It’s a struggle, getting a single word out while her hand tears at the buttons of your shirt. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Melissa’s breath hitches like she’s choking, and the shirt flies open. Your bra is easily pulled out of the way and without warning, Melissa’s lips close around your nipple to gently nibble at it.

She approaches you the same way she would an old recipe; with fierce, familiar warmth, her hands lost in her profound knowledge of your every curve and crevice. She draws a host of gasps from you, hidden into the top of her head as you kiss her hair and hold her even tighter.

Melissa releases your nipple and gives it a slow kiss goodbye, only to nip a line of stinging marks down your ribs, all the way to the top of your jeans. She pauses to dig through her back pocket and pulls out a small, threadbare hair tie.

“Just a second,” she whispers, and sweeps her hair up into a frenzied ponytail. “You ready?”

You smile down at her and brush her cheek with the backs of your fingers. “For you? Always.”

The button of your jeans pops open, the zipper is unzipped, and Melissa pulls everything down with two firm tugs. She rubs her nose against the soft inside of your thigh, breathing slowly and deliberately as she draws out every second to its limit, until you’re close to begging for something, anything.

She looks up and the light hits her eyes just right, makes them come alive like a forest pool dappled with afternoon sunlight, and you’re left breathless.

“I love you,” you say.

Melissa smiles and leans in.

A sob breaks free of your throat and echoes around the room, seeps so deep into the walls that you know you’ll still hear it two weeks from now. Melissa doesn’t treat you to anything but the tip of her tongue, light and barely there, and it is too little and too much at the same time, an impossible sensation she burns right into your nerves.

Melissa presses her hands against the fridge for support and shoves a row of magnets out of the way; the pictures they were holding fly to the floor in a chaotic flurry. She cranes her neck and presses the flat of her tongue against you, and it hits you like a brick, so much after so little.

“You feel so good, honey,” you say between rough breaths. “So, so good.”

Like she’s waiting for it, the tips of her fingers go scaling past your knee and up your thigh, until they’re resting lightly on your pubic bone. She draws a thin line down, down, down until her index finger is gently pressed against velvety heat, and then stops, her head tilted upwards to watch you, patiently waiting.

“Please,” you sigh, “I need—“

Melissa slips two fingers inside, knuckle by knuckle, and drags your trembling whine out, inch by inch. Her rhythm is slow, almost nonexistent as she savors each twitch, each swallowed curse and burdened breath. She leans against you languidly, as if it’s Sunday and she’s leafing through the morning paper, eyes closed and her cheek pressed against your hipbone.

She keeps you rooted to that feeling of home where you don’t have to keep watch over how you sound or look, where the only thing that matters is that you feel safe and loved and good. The pressure of her palm on your waist, her lips, whispering affections like little prayers, her body leaning into yours like this is where you were always both meant to be; it’s all almost too much, like trying to fit lightning in a bottle.

Melissa bends her wrist and beckons. Your knees nearly buckle but she keeps you standing, her hand firmly on the curve of your hip, enough to keep you from tumbling.

“Christ,” you whisper, fuel to the fire. Melissa’s fingers sink until her palm is flush against your skin and she settles into a steady beat, a tempo she reads from your disjointed cries and frantic gasps.

Her hair is slipping out of the tie and you notice a strip of gray, missed by her hairdresser, slide down the slope of her neck and settle on her shoulder. It’s like an ornament, a spot of moss growing on the side of a tree, a flourish bestowed for a life well lived.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” slips out of your mouth before you’ve fully even finished thinking it. Melissa flushes down to the tips of her ears and dips her head back between your thighs, her tongue deft and eager. A shudder shakes your body and you feel yourself drip; you can already imagine Melissa’s hand slick, the sleeve of her shirt soaked.

She pushes deeper and you groan, a garbled, ecstatic sound. Words are almost beyond you at this point, scattered into the wind like leaves in winter, but you still manage to say, “Melissa, my Melissa. You feel so—“ A breath, starving and coarse. “Jesus.”

You can hear Melissa’s unsaid ‘Just me’, can imagine yourself swatting her arm because it is stupid and silly and it makes you laugh in a way that very few things ever have.

Melissa opens her eyes and looks at you, a sloppy smile on her lips and her mascara stained on the left side. She thrusts, pulls you apart like a spool of string even when her wrist must be burning, her jaw sore and strained, but she gives you that small sacrifice in exchange for this, for you, unfurling under her touch.

“Honey, I’m going to—“ Her fingers curl and you feel the twitch all the way in your spine. “Melissa—“

She pulls her face back an inch, jaw glistening and lipstick staining her chin. Wind brushes against the windows with a gentle rumble that clatters the windows in their panes. Melissa catches her breath for only a moment, and then says, “I love you too.”

It’s almost enough on its own.

She falls back into you like she’s drawn by gravity and pushes you to a point where you can’t even think anymore. Her movements are fidgety, impatient; she loses herself in the what, where and how of you, and leaves any notions of composure rotting in the dust.

You grind into her palm right as Melissa tips her head and twists her tongue, gives you everything she possibly has to give and the world disappears into a spinning black hole with you at the center, the solitary singularity that ruptures like a thousand dying suns. You arch your spine and dig in your heels, begging the universe for something to hold onto, and there she is: Melissa Ann Schemmenti with her hand persisting in yours, exactly where you need her.

“I love you,” you cry and the tears come falling, and you let them, despite the tide of embarrassment that follows. “Melissa, I love you, I love you, I love you, you—“

Your knees finally give out and you nearly crash to the floor, but she holds you tight and firm the whole way down. She checks that your back is safely laid against the fridge before pulling her fingers out, drawing out one last shiver from your depleted body.

You notice a faint sheen of tears in her eyes as well, and of all things, a laugh bubbles up from your throat, a wobbly titter that seems to be the only way your body can attempt to parse the tidal wave of emotion still swirling inside.

Melissa smiles at you and then gets off her knees with a hefty ‘Ow’. With her back against the drawers, she pats her open lap and you slump onto her thighs.

Thunder rolls somewhere far above, and the rain falls thicker. You exhale, let your eyelids grow heavy, and you listen. The sky roars and under its boundless weight the trees bow and creak, the wooden swing in the backyard groans in its attempts to stay in its place, and the neighbor’s dog barks ferociously until it’s dragged inside. Above it all is Melissa’s breathing, still slightly labored. It feels like home at its most exposed: the same as her soft snores in the middle of the night, a peal of laughter from the living room, the smell of breakfast when you’re barely awake yet.

Melissa pulls your hair out of your face and starts brushing her fingers through it, tenderly untangling any knots she finds. She sniffs once, and you kiss the top of her thigh.

“What just happened?” she asks, almost childishly, honestly lost.

You turn your head to look at her. “I would say the best sex of my life, but I think you still have a few surprises in you.”

Melissa laughs softly under her breath. “Thanks for listenin’ to me.”

“Of course,” you say. “Thank you for talking to me. I’m so proud of you.”

Her jovial expression very quickly turns a little sour, and she purses her lips.

“You need to tone it down because I can’t go again yet.” She whistles between her teeth. “I haven’t wanted a smoke in six years, but honestly, now would be a really good time.”

“Don’t you dare,” you mutter.

“I’m just sayin’.”

You chuckle and put your head back down. Your eye is drawn to the mess on the floor: the magnets, the pictures, the wood that’s going to get sticky soon.

“We should probably clean up,” you say. Melissa sighs.

“Yeah.” She pats your shoulder and you pull your jeans back up. The zipper gives you some trouble, trembling fingers and all, but you manage to get yourself clothed in a reasonable amount of time. You rise from the floor and your right knee lets out a little pop as you get back on your feet.

Melissa, however, braces her hands against the floor, and then stops with a sharp hiss and a hand on her spine.

“Shit, my back, can you—“

“Of course,” you say, and slide your arms under hers. “Ready?”

You hold her by the shoulders while she wraps herself around you.

“One, two, three.”

You heave yourselves to your feet, but even when she’s securely standing, she doesn’t let go. Her hand is twisted into the back of your shirt and her face lies in the crook of your neck. You feel her lips softly trembling, her breathing coming in and out in small uneven hiccups.

“I love you so much,” she whispers.

You kiss the top of her head. “I love you too.”

You haven’t asked the universe for much, and have received even less; but for this one thing you will keep thanking the powers that be, for as long as you possibly can.

#Melissa Schemmenti x Reader #Melissa Schemmenti/Reader #Melissa Schemmenti #Abbott Elementary #Reader

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joelsgreys · 2 years

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Hurt (Steve Rogers x Female!Reader)

Summary: When Steve discovers that you have been injured on your latest mission, he gets very upset.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Warnings: Injury from a weapon, minor description of said injury but nothing too graphic. Little bit of angst, hint of fluff at the end.

Length: 1k

A/N: Just a little blurb/drabble because I was in an angsty mood.

You sat quietly beside Nat, your jaw clenched tightly as your shoulder throbbed in pain.

It was a reminder that you’d had a terrifyingly close call on this latest mission.

After a while, the sensation in your shoulder had started to worsen significantly.

Getting to your feet, you inconspicuously slipped away towards the back the ship.

As soon as you were away from the others, you peeled off your jacket, as well as one of the two shirts that you were wearing underneath it. When you finally caught a glimpse of the damaged, blistered skin on your shoulder, you bit down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from spewing out a string of profanities. The nauseating scent of burned flesh lingered in the air around you, and it took everything you had in you not to become violently sick all over the floor.

You leaned forward with your hands on your knees, and took a deep breath through your nose before exhaling it out through your mouth.

“Y/N? What are you doing back here?” Steve’s deep voice came from behind you.

Startled, you brought yourself back up to full height and whirled around.

His eyes immediately fell on your wounded shoulder and they went wide.

“It’s nothing,” You assured him quickly, covering it up with the shirt in your hand.

“Like hell it’s nothing. Let me see.” Steve stepped forward, snatched the shirt from you, and took your arm in his hand. “Really? You call this nothing?” he hissed, pointing to the bright red burns.

Although the anger flashed in his blue eyes, you detected something else. Concern.

“Steve, it really is nothing to worry about. I’m fine,” You insisted. “One of those bastards must have grazed me with a blaster or something, I don’t remember the exact weapon. It looks a lot worse than it actually is,” you added upon seeing the doubtful look on the Captain’s face. It was no secret that he was on the overprotective side when it came to you. “As soon as we reach the compound I’ll go to the medical facility and have one of the doctors get it patched up for me. No big deal.”

His lips pressed into a thin, tight line and he let go of your arm.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you come on this mission,” he murmured, a strand of his long hair falling into his face as he shook his head.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me? What do you mean, let me?” You placed a hand on your hip and narrowed your eyes at him. “You don’t dictate what missions I can and can’t go on, Rogers. That is not how this works.”

He ignored your remark as he continued on. “You should have stayed behind at the compound like I told you to. Now you’re hurt!”

“Steve, calm down! I’m okay, it’s just a flesh wound—”

“And what if it hadn’t been just a flesh wound?” Steve shouted. “You could’ve been killed!”

You blushed furiously as everyone else aboard the ship glanced back in your direction. Everyone, that is, except for Sam, who was snoring away in his seat. The others would fill him in on the drama in the morning.

Steve stared at you for a long moment, then turned around, shaking his head once again.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what anymore?” When he didn’t respond, you walked around to face him. “Steve, I don’t understand. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

A heavy sigh escaped from in between his lips. “I can’t have you out here on these missions risking your life.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his words. “That’s kind of in the job description, Rogers.”

He glared at you. “This isn’t a damn joke. I’m being serious.”

The small smile on your face vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“Come on, Steve. It’s not like this is the first time that I’ve had a close call. And it certainly won’t be the last. I’m not even trying to be funny when I say that it’s all just part of the job,” You said as you shrugged your uninjured shoulder lightly.

“I know. But the thought of something happening to you—I just can’t take it.”

Your gazes locked together and you weren’t quite sure of what to say.

You couldn’t assure him that nothing would ever happen to you, that would be a lie.

Being part of The Avengers, nearly every task and every mission was a huge risk.

For the both of you. For all of you.

“When we get back home, I’m going to talk to Tony. Maybe there’s a permanent job at the compound for you to take,” Steve finally said after a while. “You’ll be a lot safer there.”

“No, Steve. Don’t. Don’t you dare do that to me. I couldn’t stand that, I couldn’t stand staying behind on base and watching you leave for missions without me. We’re partners, and we’re always going to be partners. We’re in this together.” You could see that he was ready to protest, but before he could get a word in, you closed the distance between the two of you and softly caught his lips with your own. His hands went to your hips and you lifted your uninjured arm, draping it around his neck and pulling him in for a closer embrace. When you finally pulled away from him, you spoke quietly against his lips, “I need to be out here with you, do you understand me? I need to be by your side, fighting for the good of the world. And I know that it’s a risk, every day we do this is a risk for us. But I wouldn’t want to have it any other way. This is where I’m meant to be, out here with you.”

Steve sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I just worry about you.”

“I know. Trust me, I worry about you too,” You admitted. “But like I said, we’re in this together.”

One of Steve’s hands left your hip and he gingerly cupped the side of your face.

“Together,” he repeated in a whisper before pulling you in for another kiss.

Sam snorted from his seat, his eyes still closed. “Can you two get a damn room already?”

You and Steve jerked away from each other.

“I thought he was asleep,” You whispered, raising an eyebrow. “How did he—?”

Steve chuckled. “We’re better off not questioning it.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “Come on, let’s get that shoulder wrapped up.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #avengers imagine #avengers fic #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader

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littlecherryhuanlin · 1 year

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A Tale of a Lonely Heart- Na Jaemin

You may like: Ghost of You with Nakamoto Yuta

Disclaimer: Here is the prequel to "Love at Dawn", first I would like to apologize to those who had to wait so long for this, second this is not what I wanted to be delivering to you, u see I had a completely different story ready in Dec (I wrote on my phone and went directly to my drafts on the computer while reviewing and I was stupid enough to delete the backup since I would post it the next morning), for some reason Tumblr ate my drafts and I ended up losing not only the og version of this but also everything that was there, I'm not proud of this work, but I still hope u guys enjoy it.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Jaemin POV, but also contains the use of bad words, descriptive content, mentions of alcohol, kinda angst, short mention about Jeno's bed, angry behavior, Jaemin crying, fluff if you squint

Jaemin liked to keep his feet on the ground when it came to serious matters, despite the mixed image people had of the boy due to the near-bipolar discrepancy in his personality, everyone agreed that Jaemin was a carefree guy: unable to mind anything that wasn't on his priority list, which led to the belief that he wasn't a big fan of relationships, as his owns rarely lasted more than a few weeks.

What nobody knew, however, was that for him love was a very serious matter; the tales of souls carefully chosen to share the beauty of life with the children of the moon were universal, and having grown up listening closely to all the stories about how the imprint was the most precious thing in a werewolf's life, there was nothing he wanted more than find his mate and settling down, his short relationships being solely derived from the fact that none of the girls on campus were her.

And yet, he was completely taken aback when he saw her for the first time, things around him slowly losing focus as her scent completely overpowered his senses, his thoughts fading away and being replaced exclusively and immediately by her, a strange heat slowly rising through his body consuming every inch of his being, he even thought he would die trapped in the intoxicating sensation that took over his heart, the one that seemed to be on the verge of collapse the closer she got and before he even realized it, he was knocked down by the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life, his imprint.

Say that he had to hold back when she stopped in front of him would be an understatement, he violently fought the urge to get up and wrap his arms around her, which caused him to stare at the ground as Donghyuck introduced her as his best friend, obviously, her existence was no secret to any of them: Haechan spoke of the girl at every opportunity since the beginning of the school year, gradually making everyone extremely curious about the mysterious YN - being the means the boy used to keep her hidden from the group for half a year a secret to everyone.

Jaemin was so out of his mind that Jeno was the one to introduce him quickly, thank goodness the boys were too entertained with her to notice his strange behavior.

Unable to say anything, he just watched discreetly as the girl animatedly chatted with the boys about things he couldn't even understand. He was too busy trying to put himself in order to recognize any sound around him, everything has became a blur and he was no longer lucid, he would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of the situation, he was terrified, trying all the time to calm down before he had a heart attack.

Jaemin was never really able to speak properly to her, not the second or third or any of the times that followed over the next year, little by little he managed to answer back, but for some reason, everything that came out of his mouth sounded like snarling attacks and the more time passed the more "what ifs" occupied the boy's mind as the unfriendly tension between YN and him grew. Slowly the hopes he had upon the relationship with the one he had imprinted on disappeared, and despite the frown that he put on every time he was around the girl the feeling that had taken over him the first time they met never really disappeared.

Although he considered himself a strong guy, there were moments that Jaemin had broken because of her, like the first time she spent the night in the house he shared with Jeno, Haechan and Renjun:

The first time the boys totally lost control around her (which, to Jaemin's dismay, only meant one thing: she was one of them now) and she ended up having to stay the night because everyone was too drunk to do anything, imagine Jaemin's surprise the next morning when he opened his best friend's bedroom door only to find the girl tangled up in his covers while Jeno was passed out on the couch next to her.

Jaemin drove for four hours straight, he realized at that moment that not only Haechan -to say that he had grown to hate his friend a bit would be more than adequate; their closeness disgusted him, Haechan and YN understood each other so deeply that the boy often doubted the veracity of the supposed connection he allegedly has with her- was a threat, but all of them, other than that, he couldn't help but dislike her at that moment not only for showing up in his life but for also stealing his friends.

Even though Jaemin wanted to hate the girl he found himself completely in love with her, so in love that the next time he broke down- so badly- over her was also the first time one of the boys found out who she was to him:

YN had a boyfriend, the news that Haechan shared so excitedly with the group while making fun of YN brought immediate tears to the boy's eyes, his heart squeezed so hard that Jaemin thought he was going to pass out, he was so busy trying to breathe properly that he couldn't he noticed his friends entering the library much less Mark approaching him worriedly. Fortunately, the older boy managed to drag Jaemin to the back of the building and patiently waited while he calmed down, however, the moment Nana noticed the sad and surprised expression on his friend's face he knew that the pieces had fallen into place for Mark and his secret was no longer so secret.

When her relationship finally ended Jaemin found himself having mixed feelings: he was happy that she was single, but hell, he hated to see her sad and was ready to kill whoever made her cry, in the end, Mark had to convince him that broke Hyunjin's face was not a good idea.

At a certain point, Jaemin found himself rooting for the end of any minimal relationship that the girl had with any man outside their circle - it was difficult, but the boy was proud of having reached an agreement on the closeness of YN and the boys: he decided that he would be happy that she had true friends who would always take care of her instead of hating his friends for it - on the other hand, the more time passed, the more he questioned whether the girl's permanence in his life was, in fact, a good thing: at the same time that he loved her, he hated the way his heart always seemed to be torn apart because of her.

Please do not copy or translate any of my works, all creative work is copyrighted and therefore plagiarism is a crime.

#nct scenarios #nct jaemin #na jaemin #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream #nct dream reactions #nct dream jaemin #nct reactions #nct werewolf #nct dream fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #nct fic #nct u #jaemin

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elletheactualmenace · 1 year

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It’s Not Nothing

Pairing: tasm!PeterParker x Fem!reader

Summary: A regular day turns into patching Peter up.

Warnings: Tickling, slight angst, mentions of blood, description of wound, fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: I haven’t had the motivation to finish this until now, so here you go. There are probably so many mistakes I don’t even care at this point.

"Okay so to recap, although there are political parties now with many different views and many different politics taking different sides, our first president George Washington believed...?" The teacher waits for someone to answer her question. And because of the free reign of her class four people say something along the lines of "He believed they could lead to our corruption."

Mrs. Flax moves her hands in a gesture that means "and?" Or "continue" You raise your hand in a lazy manner tired but glad the day is ending soon.

"Yes, Y/n?" She asks, awaiting your response.

"He believed that they were a distraction, that they just led to unnecessary conflict and fighting. And that, arguing back and forth could lead to foreign influence and then to our corruption." You say glancing around at the eyes on you. Mrs. Flax smiles happy that someone was really paying attention in her class.

"Amazing response, thank you Y/n. Now next class we will learn about the political parties before the ones we know today. And make sure-" The bell cuts her off but she keeps talking as people get out of their seats heading for their lockers.

"Make sure you finish the last couple of questions on the paper from today. That's the only homework!" Her voice fizzles out of ear shot, as you walk with the crowd of people in the halls of your school.

As you navigate the maze of people you eventually find your locker. And next to your locker is an - already ready to leave - Peter Parker. You laugh at him resting on your locker, and shove him off. He puts his hands up in defeat and steps away.

He waits patiently as you shove books, folders and notebooks into your saggy backpack. You scoff at him when he chuckles at you having trouble fitting a folder into your bag. He reaches over and helps you finish in a more efficient manner. Once you are done his arm slings over your shoulder and pulls your face close to his as you both walk down the hall towards the exits of the school. He kisses your cheek and whispers

"I missed you."

"You just saw me last period in English." You smile at the lingering warmth left by his lips on your cheek. As he pulls away slightly he winces as your hand grazes his side. You raise a brow. “It’s nothing.” He assures. Taking attention off of himself he says "And I know but still, how can I not miss you. Especially when you smell like you do." He leans in and takes a whiff of your perfume. You tense and shiver as his nose grazes your pulse point. He laughs.

The sunlight hits you as you and your Boyfriend walk through the doors of your highschool.

You both walk to the train holding hands. At one point you swear you see his skateboard almost fall out of his backpack. We all have no idea on how he keeps it there all the time and it doesn't fall. A Parker secret you guess.

————

You shove your books and papers away from you and stretch as you yawn into the warm couch. Peter does the same moments later. You start putting your work away into folders then to your backpack. Peter falls back on the couch and quickly pulls you with him. You yelp as he snuggles his face in your neck from behind you.

"Okay Pete, what do you want to do now?"

He sucked in, inhaling both your scent and the air around him. He hums in thought. "Not sure," he tightens his grip around you waist. He whispers into your neck.

"Maybe we can just cuddle? I can be the little spoon? Or big I don't care, as long as it's with you." You chuckle at his mumbled words, and then sigh happily.

"Sound good to me." And after about 5 minutes of getting situated and putting on some random show on Netflix, you were in a comfortable position.

You ask as Peter's nose bumps with your ear. "How was your day?"

Peter nuzzles into your neck, it tickles and you lean away smiling. "What?" Peter asked innocently. "Why'd you move?"

"You- never mind." You roll your eyes and pull him back into you. This time he fans his breath over your neck, you nudge him slightly, but he pushes your arm out of the way. He retracts his arms from around you and takes hold of your wrists. He maneuvers the both of you so your back is flat on the couch and his knees on either side of your waist keeps him just above you. You gasp at his sudden movement and tilt your head in confusion.

"What are you doing there Peter?" You ask with a smile and a raised brow. His grin becomes a smirk and you see a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

His smile only grows when you try to wiggle yourself out form under him. You know if you really wanted you could ask him to let go but you want to see what he's up to. Peter pauses the show playing and puts the remote off the coffee table.

Peter's free hand travels to the hem of your shirt and he slowly lifts it but only so a bit of you stomach is showing. He then grazes over you skin with the tips of his fingers. It tickles and you wiggle around more. He smiles softly at your reaction and then goes in for the full blown tickle method. Your laughs and his chuckles fill the room. There is no way that he just did that. You have to get him back, somehow.

Peter stops his attacks to your stomach with a big smile plastered on his face. "You jerk," You let out in a puff of air. You laugh again this time just at the whole situation. Peter leans down and presses a sweet tender kiss to your lips, almost as and apology. You kiss back, lips tingling at the sensation of his lips on yours. You lean upward for more closeness to him but Peter swiftly pulls away with a mischievous smirk. His hands let go of your wrists but his face begins to travel down to wear his hand was just a second ago. Peters fingers once again pull at the material of you shirt.

Before you can blink his lips are on you stomach blowing raspbarrys. You squirm even more now, laugh so loud your lungs hurt. The sound of his lips blowing on to your stomach makes it hard for him to keep his composure and not laugh himself. He just thinks you look so cute when you laugh.

Your constant moving and shifting makes it hard for Peter to keep you down. You knee bucks up into his abdomen and you hear a wince. Immediately he is off of you. You sit up concern and guilt lacing every fiber of you.

"Shit," You curse as you slowly crawl to his aid. Peter sits on the edge of the couch holding his side.

"Are you okay?" You run your hand up and down his arm in a soothing manner.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He tries to calm your worry but your not convinced with the way he is slouched over. "Im so sorry, I didn't mean to-" You cut yourself off when you see a damp patch beginning to seep through his shirt.

"Peter you bleeding," You utter in shock. You quickly stand up and make a beeline for the bathroom down the hall.

Rushing back with a first aid kit in hand you kneel by his side. "Y/n, it's nothing Im fine," Peter brushes off as you try to get under the hand cupping the side of his abdomen.

"Peter. It's not nothing if its bleeding, what the hell happened?" He sucks in a breath as you pry his hand away from his side.

"Nothing, I just got grazed last night, no biggie." Peter says as you lay eyes on a poorly bandaged stomach. There is blood leaking through the off white bandaging. You slowly unwrap the wound and finally see whats causing him pain. It's a deep gash, it looks like a knife wound. There is blood slowly spilling from the slice. You pull out cleaning supplies and get to work.

"Why didn't you call me? You know I would have been more then willing to help you," You scolded him as he purses his lips in thought.

"I don't know. I just don't like bothering you if I don't have to, and I guess I thought I could handle it." He confesses. You shake you head with a sigh and you clean his wound, making sure to not hurt him further.

"Listen, I know you’re the 'Strong and Brave Spider-Man', but your allowed to ask for help. Even if its with something you think, and key word here, think you can handle by yourself.” You pull out the bandages from the first aid kit. “And you can especially ask me for help because I'm your girlfriend, and that part of the job. So don't hide these kind of things from me you idiot." You carefully wrap his wound and he slowly nods looking down in embarrassment that you had to find out like this. It was bad enough he got hurt, but the fact he thought you wouldn't find out and he could keep it from your was worse.

"M'sorry," He muttered quietly, eyes trained on the floor. You smiled, pulled his shirt down and lifted his chin softly.

"Hey, look at me, baby, It's okay," You smiled a forgiving smile and he gave a hopefully one.

"I forgive you, just next time, call me. Okay?"

Peter nods and you close the first aid kit slipping it onto the coffee table that held your school work and books. You tilt you head up and delicately kiss his cheek. His face swells into a smile and he turns his head so he can kiss you properly. His plump lips against yours in a tooth-rotting sweetness.

You pull away and lean against the back of the couch, Peter follows suit. You rest your head on his shoulder cuddling up to his side, careful to not accidentally hurt him again. You grin and turn to face him, his head turns slightly and he raises a brow waiting for you to say something.

"You know, when you're better, Im totally getting revenge." He chuckled pulling you closer.

"I'd like to see you try," He challenged. You roll your eyes with a smirk.

"Oh just you wait bug boy,"

#tasm!peter x y/n #tasm fic #tasm!peter fluff #fluff #angst #x reader #tasm peter #fanfic #oneshot #because i could #fem!reader

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emotionallychargedtowel · 2 months

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sécrétions pas si magnifique

Once @wen-kexing-apologist brought the existence of the perfume Sécrétions Magnifiques by Etat Libre d’Orange to my attention, I felt like I had to at least smell it once. It has a unique marketing angle--it's supposed to smell like sex, to put it briefly--and reviews for it are highly polarized and fascinatingly vivid, particularly the negative ones. And yeah, the name means Magnificent Secretions. Naturally, I wanted to investigate.

A friend of mine got me some perfume samples as a belated Christmas gift and I asked her to include a sample of Sécrétions in the order. It took me a while to try it because I wanted to do so on a day when I was at home on my own and could put it on early in the day to give it a chance to fizzle out before my family got back. After all, some reviewers had said it was absolutely rank. A little while back, the right opportunity arose and I gave it a go.

My notes on the opening (the initial, soon-after-application scent):

Definitely aquatic, sweeter than expected (almost fruity), with a slight powdery quality. A really sharp metallic note (according to my info, this metallic note is via an aldehyde so it’s no surprise that it hits hard in the opening). Any muskiness seems to have been mostly swallowed up by the sweet gourmand note. The milky coconut notes are mostly just reading as sweet at this point. The whole thing is a really weird mixture. It’s not a complete juxtaposition, so I guess some skillful blending is happening here since the notes are so disparate. But it’s still a decidedly odd combination of elements.

And the drydown (the part after it has, you know, dried down):

It comes across as much more blended at this point. Aquatic and metallic notes that seemed volatile, like they wouldn’t last past the opening, stick around longer than expected. The gourmand notes get more distinctly lactonic and the salty aspect of the aquatic notes is a bit more noticeable. So at this point, it smells more like what I expected from its description—salty, metallic milk. The musk note is also in evidence but I really had to look for it, and it gets lost in the composition quickly.

(Segueing out of writing up my notes and into the general discussion...)

The sex smell concept makes a bit more sense at the drydown stage, but it’s still not a comparison I ever would have made unprompted. When you’re looking for it, though, it’s at least somewhat possible to read it that way. It’s not much like any sex smell I’ve ever come in contact with, but you could imagine it being one under certain circumstances (particularly since these sorts of smells vary so much between individuals). But even if I give it the benefit of the doubt in this way, it's still skewed in a direction that isn't entirely up my alley.

Basically, there are a number of secretions the name of this fragrance could theoretically refer to, and a good sex smell fragrance would, I think, smell at least a bit like all of them. The main ones would be sweat, semen, and vaginal fluid. And of the two I can sort of make out in this fragrance if I squint hard enough, the most prominent by far is what I can only call a semen accord.

Which may have something to do with why even when I could kind of see a way in which they accomplished what they were going for, this didn't appeal to me that much. A perfume that's supposed to smell like sex that is this bereft of pussy is, well, a choice. I dunno, maybe I’m just too bisexual for this stuff.

All of this might seem less glaring if it weren’t for the fact that the musk component wasn’t very noticeable either in the opening or the drydown. After all, sweat is pretty much the one universal sex smell. But I kept losing track of the musk entirely. It’s striking that seemingly volatile notes like the aldehydes in this stuck around for a surprisingly long time but the musk, which was never prominent, faded quickly. (I haven’t tried a lot of musk-heavy perfumes but my understanding was that musk notes usually stick around for longer than this.)

The saltiness combined with the metallic aldehydes caused this fragrance to give me a very distinct feeling in my nose. The combination of the smell and the nose feeling reminded me of the weird feeling/smell you get when you do a somersault in a chlorinated pool, something I haven't experienced in at least thirty years. That was a weird association to have side-by-side with the sex smell association. I found myself trying to imagine what sort of highly specific sex situation would result in this combination of elements. Things involving chlorine? Being upside down?

I guess there is one other thing I could liken that nasal sensation to: the feeling you get when, uh, ingesting certain substances through the nose. Not something I have a lot of familiarity with and what little I do have is decades old, but there was a similarity there. Once again, these associations evoke some pretty specific scenarios. Together, the chlorine/cocaine sensation and the predominance of the semen accord over any other "secretion" notes suggest some pretty specific scenarios rather than more general, highly relatable sexual situations. I couldn't help wondering what it might say about this perfumer that this is what he comes up with when commissioned to create a sex smell fragrance.

To sum up, this perfume sent me down a weird aesthetic rabbit-hole with some surprising associations. It was at least interesting to try. I think the perfumer would have liked it if this had caused some kind of bonkers erotic version of Proust's madeleine effect in me, but instead of bringing back memories it just made me feel compelled to somehow reconcile its weirdness with its marketing claims in a way that led to some truly random trains of thought. I didn't find this stuff repellent, like a lot of people do. I didn't find it sexy at all, like at least some others seem to. It was rather middling in terms of quality for me. There's something impressive about the fact that the perfumer was able to make something relatively cohesive out of such disparate notes, but just because it's not a total cacophony of unrelated smells doesn't mean it actually smells good. I guess if I had to say what the worst thing about it was, it's that it was, no pun intended, rather masturbatory. Because it turned out to be a pretty gratuitous exercise and it has the air of something that its creator/s thought was a hell of a lot cleverer than it actually was.

#secretions magnifiques #l'etat libre d'orange #perfume reviews

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peachysooxo · 4 months

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The Kingdom of Us

Chapter 5

pairing: kyungsoo x OFC genre: Royal!AU, nonidol!soo, crownprince!kyungsoo, romance, drama theme: arranged marriage, modern royalty, enemies to lovers, war, betrayal, eventual smut word count: 4,920 description: Alina finally opens up to Kyungsoo, while Kyungsoo takes a chance and shows another side of himself to Alina. warnings: mature themes, mentions of sex, mentions of SA, non consensual sex, abuse, minors DNI

author’s note: hello dear friend! Thank you so much for being so patient and so lovely. I am very proud of the next few chapters, I worked really hard to give you the absolute best. Also, dear reader, this chapter does contain mentions of SA. I will NEVER include any details, however if what this chapter contains is upsetting to you, please look for the red asterisk (*) that signifies the beginning and end of the description so it can be skipped over. I don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable when reading my stories. Please take care of yourselves, your mental health matters more to me than a read. Photos are not mine, dividers by @saradika-graphics . please enjoy this chapter.

ALINA

“Aren’t you so pretty? Who’s my pretty girl?”

“No… No! Please, don’t do this!” I beg and frantically claw at my faceless attacker. I can sense who he is, I know the scent of his expensive cologne and the pressure of his hands holding me down. He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once. I try everything to get out from under him. Any time my hands met the fog that was the face, it would take shape again of the monster that tortured me every single night. A slap stings my cheek, and a hand crushes my windpipe. Pain spirals all over my body and I regret fighting in the first place, it only meant it would get worse from here.

“Stay there, Pretty. It’s our little secret. Princess, you’re so pretty…”

I scream in bed and desperately take in my surroundings to make sure that I’m not in my bedroom in Valencia. The scent of vanilla and bergamot accompanied with the minimalist, muted decor assures me that I’m in Seoul. The pressure squeezes my chest and my trembling hands clutch the sheets close to my body, my lungs desperate for oxygen. The vice in my chest tightens as I frantically attempted to gain control of my breathing. Tears sting my eyes as the walls cave in around me. The door bursts open and my eyes slowly adjust to the light filtering in from my common room, a halo forms around the silhouette of a man.

Kyungsoo.

“Princess, what happened? Why are you screaming?!” He rushes toward me and I jump back, trying all that I can to comfort my trembling on my own. I can’t feel him gather me in his arms. If there was a way to cure this dizziness, I’d take it in an instant because the whole room spinning is messing with my head. I grip Kyungsoo’s elbows tight, trying to come back to earth. The separation began between my mind and body to the point that I watched myself from another point of view. Colors blur and blend together, sounds muffle and any touch can’t be felt until my entire world was abstract and distorted. I was vulnerable, something I never wanted to be in front of him.

“Hey, hey… Shhh…” Kyungsoo’s velvety rich voice slowly brings the balance back to my body. In my weakened state, I curl into his arms and sob. My maids rush into the room and stop short at the sight of Kyungsoo. They bow their heads out of obedience and I bury my head in Kyungsoo’s chest. “Where are Princess Alina’s guards?”

Guards? I’m supposed to have guards?

“Your Highness… There were no guards assigned to this wing of the palace.” A maid nervously responds with her head down. Kyungsoo’s muscles tense and he grips me tighter.

“What in the hell do you mean there’s no guards?”

“It was at Her Royal Highness Queen Hyunae’s command that her chambers have additional guards, Your Grace.” The other maid squeaked. I’ve had no guards this entire time?

“Princess Alina needs guards just as much as anyone else in this palace does! Please, leave us. If there are no guards, I will guard her myself.” He growls. His hand strokes my hair and settles on the back of my head.

“But Your…”

“Go, now. That is an order.” Kyungsoo bellows, his voice reverberating against my cheek. As soon as the door closes, Kyungsoo settles on the bed in front of me and fastens his hands on my arms. I float back down into my body, the head rush of consciousness coming back to me. Every time I woke from the nightmares, I floated above myself until I felt nothing. I chased that feeling, it’s what kept me safe from the panic attacks. Being suspended in nothing felt better than feeling every ache of the past. Then Kyungsoo came along and invaded my senses. He was real. His presence forces me to feel. The things he makes me feel are foreign, confusing and at the same time so welcomed. I don’t know what to do with that.

“Princess, what happened? Did you see something outside? Are you hurt?” Kyungsoo asks while gently touching my face. I look into his eyes and search for the motive. Why is he here? Why is he touching me like he cares about me? I can’t do anything else but stare at him and do my best to control my breathing. I rapidly shake my head and put my head down. “Was it a nightmare?”

“Yes.” I utter under uneasy breaths. Kyungsoo peers at me as if he’s losing himself in his own thoughts. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Princess. I’m glad I was nearby,” Kyungsoo assures in a low tone. “You have these a lot, don’t you?”

“Every night, if I can sleep.” I wearily reply. Kyungsoo doesn’t say a word, he just holds me. His touch soothes the ache within me and brings a sense of security. I am so dumbfounded at the calming affect this man has on me. Even in my anxiety-filled haze, the confusion pulls me in so many directions. It’s the same song and dance, the same questions over and over. I take a breath and look down at our hands, his thumbs rub soft lines across my white knuckles. With each caress, I loosen my grip on the sheets. I’m sure that the exhaustion starts talking with what comes out of my mouth.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Kyungsoo assures me with soothing words as he sits behind me. He kicks off his shoes, takes off his suit jacket and guides my head to rest on his chest. I don’t know what is going on with him, but it’s a very vast and sudden change from just this week alone. His fingers stroke my hair and his heartbeat creates a lullaby that starts lulling me to a calm state. My heavy eyes close while my mind focuses on each slow breath Kyungsoo takes. He inhales sharply and his lips imprint a kiss on my head. He must think I can’t hear him, but the truth seeps out of his mouth like honey.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me, Princess. I’m a jerk for being so horrible to you. We have not been made more acquainted due to my own stubbornness. Darling, you awakened something in me the moment we kissed. Baekhyun says I should accept these feelings. I’m doing my best, Princess. Please be patient with me… Because I want to know what it’s like to love you.”

Kyungsoo wants to fall in love with me. He, of all people, wants to fall in love with me. He won’t want to for much longer, especially not after he learns the truth. I have to tell him before he finds out the situation on his own.

When I woke up the next morning, two royal guards were outside of my door and Kyungsoo was nowhere in sight. Did I hallucinate the entire thing? It’s possible. I changed from my pajamas to an A line cream-colored dress as maids prepared my things for the trip to the Capital Castle. Kyungsoo and I were making our official public appearance today for our Engagement Celebration ahead of the Ball. My thoughts are dilapidated like the aftermath of a hurricane, I don’t know what’s gotten into Kyungsoo and it’s useless to try and figure it out at this point. I barely finished my makeup when a maid enters my room.

“The car is here, Your Highness. The Crown Prince is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, I’ll be there shortly.” I smile graciously. I check my hair and dress one more time and leave the comfort of my room. The thought of Kyungsoo staying with me all night kept flashing in my mind. His gentle words tingle my skin and the memory of his arms holding me close to his chest are stuck in my head. What was odd to me was that he was on the top floor of the palace. He has never been up there, at least for as long as I’ve been here. I see Kyungsoo waiting for me in front of the car, and there’s no denying that he looks devilishly handsome. One of my weaknesses has now become his tailored suits, this navy-colored one in particular. His hair is slicked back and a soft smile greets me.

“Good morning, Princess. You look lovely today.” What in the hell is going on?

“Good morning. As do you, your Grace.” I say coolly. Kyungsoo opens the door for me and we sit across from each other in silence. His eyes drift up from his phone to me a few times and then a sigh escapes his lips after a few minutes.

“Were you comfortable with last night?” Kyungsoo asks.

“It was awkward at first, but I appreciated it. The… Attention is new for me. I also didn’t know I was supposed to have guards. I haven’t had them from the beginning.”

“As of this morning, that changed. I had a very long discussion with my mother about her poor decision making and she will be formally apologizing to you. From now on, you will not only have the standard protocol for guards, but you’ll also have double.” Kyungsoo assures me.

“Crown Prince, you don’t have to do all of this.” I mutter nervously.

“Why do you keep saying that, Princess?” Kyungsoo inquires, suspicion in his voice.

“It’s because…”

“We have arrived, Your Highnesses.” The driver announces, I’m grateful because our greetings to the subjects just bought me more time.

“We’ll talk later, Your Grace.” I reply shakily. Kyungsoo takes my hand and laces our fingers together. He holds it tighter than before but I don’t mind it. He takes the first step out of the car and leads me to stand at his side. His arm wraps around my waist, taking liberties I’d only prayed about before but now don’t know what to make of them.

“Ready to meet our subjects, Princess?”

I nod silently and take in the sights around me, and the loud shouts of the people celebrating our engagement in the streets. The Engagement Celebration was in full swing, Seoul gave their people the day off to observe such an important event. A Royal Wedding can boost morale during a time full of tension and uncertainty. People were gathered for miles to see our arrival downtown. The Capital Castle stood so regally amongst the high-rise buildings in the Downtown District of Seoul. I marvel at the reds and greens of the paint, the massive curving in the roof’s high towers and the gold etchings and statues greeting us at the fortress gate. Despite being in the center of the chaotic city, it was tranquil.

We wave to the sea of people cheering and shouting our names. Kyungsoo gripped my waist tighter as we greeted some of the subjects, the women coo at how “protective” he is. These royal greetings are exciting, and the warm welcome soothed any uncertainty that I’ve had about the people not approving of me.

“You’re doing great.” Kyungsoo encourages me, in a tone that’s low enough for only me to hear. We make our way inside the castle and go straight to the balcony. There was an undeniably enigmatic feeling around the castle. It’s fascinating to see Seoul citizens waving my Kingdom’s flag with theirs. Will they continue to support me? I don’t want to let all of these people down. The pressure feeds my anxiety, I shake it off and focus on the moment with Kyungsoo by my side.

The kiss changed everything. It was liberating. Kyungsoo meant it, I know he did. The imprint of his lips still remained on mine. It was so hard to fully surrender my heart to him, he never gave me a reason to trust him. Kissing him was fun and elating but I didn’t understand where this sudden change came from, or why he wants to fall in love with me. His late-night confession left me even more confused than what I was before.

There was no telling how much I desired to feel his lips on mine again. To hear his voice as he whispers softly to me. I craved him more than I ever had before because of the taste he’d given me.

We step out and the crowds cheer for us. We wave and greet our subjects, Kyungsoo secures his hand on my back. His fingers trace small circles, a soothing touch for the overwhelming screaming and cheering of the people below us. He leans close to my ear, whispering sweetly with a smile. “They love you, Princess.”

I smile and hope that our subjects will still have a liking toward me as time goes on. We spend a few more minutes greeting the massive crowds and return back inside. An awkward beat passes, and I know I’m putting off the inevitable. Kyungsoo steps in front of me and my thoughts come to a halt. “What do you have to tell me, Princess? We were interrupted when we arrived.”

I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you. “I…”

“Come on, let’s go to my chambers. We can speak there.”

“I don’t know how to say it, I just know I have to before our betrothal goes any further. First, I want to apologize for how you found me last night. I wasn’t expecting your kindness, Crown Prince. Though, there is something that has been following me around that unfortunately caught up with me. I prefer that you heard the truth from me, and you can… Deal with it however you see fit.” I mumble nervously as we walk to Kyungsoo’s chambers. Hesitation tries to weigh down my steps but Kyungsoo takes me by the hand. We walk from the common room to his bedroom and he shuts the door.

“What are you talking about?” Kyungsoo crosses his arms. My eyes start to water and I try to turn away but Kyungsoo stops me. I shamefully turn to face him, shrinking smaller and smaller the more he looks at me. He sits on the bed and I stay standing without letting go of his hands. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Princess.”

“Last night was the first time I’ve had a decent night’s sleep in I don’t know how long. There was something there between us that I can’t describe, Crown Prince. But… I can’t fully give myself to this betrothal. I can’t let you or anyone else in. I’m… Scared all of the time.”

"Of what? Is it Prince Gustavo? If it is I’ll…”

I chew at my lip and won't meet Kyungsoo's gaze. Tears streak my cheeks and the numbness starts to begin. "No, not Prince Gustavo. It’s… King Daniel."

"King Daniel? Why?" I hear the words fall out of Kyungsoo’s mouth like gravel, his jaw tensely. His tone makes my chest ache. I instantly regret saying anything at all.

"It’s… The King is the reason why I can’t sleep. I'm unclean, Your Highness." I mutter, letting go of Kyungsoo’s hands.

"Unclean? That's not possible." Kyungsoo crosses his arms, his voice adopting a softer cadence. I can’t get a read on this entire situation. It makes the numbness sink deeper to accompany the vice of anxious adrenaline in my chest. He takes my hand and brings me closer to him. "Look at me, darling. There won’t be a consequence for what you tell me. What happened?”

Just breathe, Alina. There’s no going back now. I take a deep breath, my posture weakening at the weight of the burden I carry. I nervously meet his gaze and prepare myself for the unknown.

“He… He took something that was supposed to be yours. The media believed the Azteco Crown’s rumor mill and the things they spread about me wanting him and all of the lies. I’m sure you’ve seen the embarrassingly false headlines. I never wanted him. I never wanted any of this to happen.” My voice gets unsteady and Kyungsoo sighs.

“You’re safe, Princess. Please. Only tell me what you’re comfortable with me knowing.” Kyungsoo’s encouraging words lure me into safety.

*"King Daniel… He… Assaulted and abused me since I was 15. Any chance he got, he’d hurt me. He would make inappropriate comments to me when my parents and brothers weren’t around. He’d force himself on me and tell me that I made him do it. That I wanted it. I promise you that I never did. I didn’t know what I was doing, all I knew was that I didn’t want any of it.

Daniel threatened to have my family killed if I said anything against him, he threatened my Abuelita and my mother the most. Then… He said you’d know. That every time you’d look at me, you’ll know I’m unclean because of what he’d do to me. You’ll have me sent away or have me killed. That I’ll be the reason the Doh Dynasty falls apart. I don’t want to ruin your family. I don’t want to bring embarrassment to your name and reputation. Crown Prince… I am so sorry.” Anger, fear and dread hold my breath hostage. No matter how hard I try, the breath won’t enter my lungs. Kyungsoo looks away from me, my mind coming undone at the possibilities of what may come next. He brings me down to his level and pulls me into his arms. Once he secures me in his hold, sobs burst from my chest.*

“Breathe.” His whispers in my ear.

"I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry..." I shakily repeat.

“Look at me. What I want is for you take a breath. Slowly… Good. Breathe...” Kyungsoo soothes, fire raging in his eyes. “You’re not an object. You can’t be sent away. That’s not true and never was. I don’t want you to go anywhere, darling. I’ll say it again. You’re not ruined for me. You are pure. What that disgusting animal did to you was not your fault. You didn’t ask for it. I could never hold the actions of a man who should know better against you.”

I allow Kyungsoo’s words to settle in my bones and instinctively grab on to him, burying my head in his chest and allow myself to cry. His hand rubs my back slowly, his lips brush against my temple. No words were exchanged, there was no need for them. His touch spoke for him, his heavy breaths allowing me to feel emotions I buried deep inside of me. He just lets me fall apart in his arms. Waves of warmth encircle me in a soft embrace, a feeling that I’ve never known until Kyungsoo held me for the first time. He scoots back and studies my face. Pain riddles his expression, guilt entrapping me for burdening him with something that wasn’t even his problem.

“Thank you for believing me, Crown Prince.” I rasp.

“Of course I believe you. Don’t thank me for that. I want you to feel comfortable with me. You don’t need to call me by my title in private. May I call you Alina when we’re alone?” I nod slowly. We hold each other in a gaze for a moment, I’m the first to look away. He leaves a kiss on my cheek and makes sure my attention is brought back to him.

“Alina, I’m going to take care of you. No one will hurt you again. Not that bastard of a king or anyone else. I’ll have guards at every entry point and each inch of the perimeter of this castle if I have to. You’re safe with me.” Kyungsoo’s hand caresses mine in an attempt to soothe me. The silence around us is tranquil like ocean waves rolling onto the shore, the first feeling of solace that I could hold on to. The feeling of being in this man’s embrace gave me something I’d been searching for: comfort. Like a morning glory blooming in the face of the sun, something is shifting in between Kyungsoo and I. It’s blooming slowly basking in the warmth of these feelings that are encircling us.

“Thank you.” I offer a smile and Kyungsoo nods slowly.

“Is this too much?” He asks, scooting back from me. I take Kyungsoo’s hand and pull him back.

“No. We have to start somewhere, Kyungsoo. I’m happy you believe me, and I’m relieved that we’re entering a new agreement instead of the one we had before. Situations like ours don’t come with time to get to know one another fully, but we have a chance to start over now that our cards are on the table.” I explain. I stick out my hand between us and exhale. “Hi, I’m Alina. It’s nice to meet you.”

Kyungsoo smiles and takes my hand, kissing my knuckles the same way he did when we first met. “Hello, Alina. Nice to meet you. I’m Kyungsoo.”

“This is nice,” I laugh awkwardly, unsure of how to transition to a new subject. I don’t want to talk about the past anymore. “But honestly, thank you for everything. It means a lot that you’re doing all of this for me and being kind. You’re showing another side that I never knew existed.”

“This is just the beginning, Princess.”

The rest of the day went by in a blur of last-minute waltz rehearsals, dinner and some wedding planners wanted to meet with me to start finalizing details. It felt odd that we’d be discussing something that’s so far away, but I have to remember there’s 2 months left to go. Sure, we could get married sooner, but most of the time that happens with betrothals that end in love matches. What Kyungsoo and I have definitely isn’t a love match. Overall, today has been a very odd day, and it’s going to shape up to be an even more odd night.

“May I come in?” Kyungsoo’s voice pierced through the door. Groaning, I get up from the couch and pace toward the door. I open it and see Kyungsoo in a most unnatural form: casual in a black baggy t shirt and plaid pajama pants. Kyungsoo’s eyes drift up and down at the nightgown I chose to wear for bed with a cheeky smile. “Is your favorite color blue?”

“Why?” I tilt my head.

“You wear it a lot. I like how it looks on you.” He replies with a reddish tint on his cheeks, letting himself in.

“Thank you, Your Grace… I mean Kyungsoo.” I lower my head to hide my own red cheeks. “Not that I don’t appreciate your visit, but what are you doing here?”

“I’m staying in here tonight.”

“What? Why?” I gasp. Kyungsoo walks over to the fireplace and warms his hands by it. I follow him and he reaches his hands out to me.

“I don’t want to leave you alone.” Kyungsoo shrugs as if it’s the most obvious solution in the world.

“Where is this coming from?” I ask carefully.

“Alina, we were getting nowhere before. We would just bicker and say hurtful things to each other. This isn’t going to work unless we both give an honest effort before resorting to a platonic relationship. You need to realize that I’ve grown very fond of you. You are also becoming the Crown Princess of this Kingdom. You have a value that you don’t even realize that you possess not only to me, but to our Kingdom. I want you to be 100% certain of something: what happened to you will never change how I see you. It wasn't your fault. You must know that there is a stipulation for all of the protections you need, a price to pay.”

I look up at Kyungsoo, reading his eyes. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to remember what Seoul Law says about something like this, if there is anything for such a situation. “What do I have to do?”

“We have to get married as soon as possible. You need to be Crown Princess in order to be properly taken care of and safe.” Kyungsoo sighs.

“As soon as possible? When is that?”

“October 12th.”

“But that’s next week! That is beyond sudden!” I shout.

“I know. That’s why I arranged for the wedding planners to come today, and they’re working to complete everything in time. Good thing your seamstress is arriving tomorrow just in case you need any adjustments.” Kyungsoo coolly replies.

“This is impossible.” I start pacing, and Kyungsoo catches my wrist in his hand.

“This is the meaning of mutually beneficial. Trust me. At the Ball we’ll announce we’re getting married a lot sooner than originally planned. We… We have to make it seem as though it’s for love.” Kyungsoo explains.

“You don’t have to do this.” I insist. Kyungsoo reaches out and brushes his fingers along my cheek and I don’t fight it.

“I have to. You have every right to feel safe and secure. Leave it to me. Just because we’re getting married quick doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have what you want, I have you scheduled to meet with the wedding planners after the ball.”

“I just… I thought we’d have more time to figure our… Relationship out.” I scoff. Kyungsoo grips my hand tighter and stops walking, his gaze fixed on me. He studies my face and leans closer.

“Darling, you said it yourself the day we met. You’re nothing but another nation’s princess until we’re wed. Whether you like it or not, you’re mine. I can admit that I am possessive of what’s mine, it’s a flaw that works in your favor. I’ll protect you. Even if that means marrying you a hell of a lot sooner than we wanted. We also have a lifetime to figure this relationship out.” Kyungsoo’s voice drops to a low rumble.

“So, we’re going to be in our elderly age still getting to know each other? Sounds like a fun life.” I lean back and Kyungsoo chuckles softly.

“You’re right. I’ll make a much better effort in spending quality time with you, darling. Not just so people can see us together. You look tired, come on. Let’s get you to bed.” With a kiss on my cheek, Kyungsoo turns the sheets down. I climb in bed with a dizzy head.

My wedding is next week.

I lay down and turn off the lights, cuddling into the sheets.

I’m marrying Kyungsoo next week.

He’s willingly marrying me to get me protections I don’t have as a foreign princess. I have no idea what’s going on with him but it’s making me soften my sentiments toward him. I watch him recline on the couch with his phone in his hand. The focus in his eyes tells me that it must be something serious so I turn away to give him his space.

My body is so exhausted that when I close my eyes I fall asleep a lot quicker than that I normally would.

“Let me go!” I scream, eyes shooting open from my ongoing nightmare.

“Alina!” Kyungsoo rushes to my side and I’m snapped from dream to reality. “You’re shaking, darling. Was it a nightmare?”

I nod and crave his eye contact. Once he gives me what I want, I try my best to focus on him. I’m frozen, but Kyungsoo sits behind me on the bed and secures me in his arms. “You don’t…”

“You need to sleep, darling. You’ve lacked sleep for so long.” Kyungsoo lowly comforts me. “I’ll shelter you from everything that can harm you as you sleep. Trust in me, Alina.”

Trust me. You need to learn to trust me. Trust in me, Alina.

I can’t help that my heart rate slows down when I’m in Kyungsoo’s arms. Contentment builds between us in the awkward state of being in bed together. I refuse to admit that I need him. I don’t want to acknowledge that this feels safe. It baffles me that someone who despises me wants me to trust them so badly. The numbness fades in the presence of him. No one else has been able to do that.

“Alina, are you comfortable?”

“Is it bad that I am?” I ask.

“No, it’s not. You being comfortable in my arms isn’t bad. Darling, do you want me to stay here in bed with you?” Kyungsoo asks, his tone soft and gentle. I sigh and turn in his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you last night, I’ll be better at that.”

“Is it bad that I want you this close to me?” I ask again. Kyungsoo shakes his head and sits beside me, pulling the sheets over his body.

“We’ll be in the same bed this time next week, what difference does it make? Come here, Princess.” He holds his arms out and I nervously slide into them. Resting my head on his chest, draping my arm over his stomach, our legs intertwining and his embrace tighter than it was before completed the calming efforts Kyungsoo has on me. He strokes my hair and absolutely all of the anxiety in my body left me. “Rest, let me worry about your fears and anxieties. You’re not handling this alone anymore.”

“Thank you, Kyungsoo.” I hum. My eyes grow heavy. I fall asleep in Kyungsoo’s arms, a place that is slowly starting to feel like home.

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andreafmn · 1 month

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Collision | Chapter 23

Word Count: 4.4K Warnings: medical procedures, death

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

A/N: goodness me, I know it's been forever since I've updated anything. I've been in a bit of a mental rut and nothing was coming to me, but I'm finishing up a couple of updates so I'll definitely be publishing a few things this week. Also, please don't hate me for updating the less loved Twilight fic. Speak is coming soon 🫣🫣 also also, new character 👀👀

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(Y/N) knew it had been too quiet for too long.

Well, not entirely quiet.

After the encounter with Laurent in the woods, his friend Victoria had shown up. The vampire had gone through hitchhikers in Forks like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. It had the sheriff station in Forks and La Push on high alert. There were too many bodies and not enough explanations—at least none that could be known by the public.

The pack had already doubled their efforts during their patrols, doing all in their power to run the redhead out of their land while protecting the Swan duo in theirs. They had lost sleep and had been overworked for weeks. The vampire had bested them in every move, taunting the pack with her swift and calculated moves.

But the important thing was that Bella was safe, and she seemed to be getting better. At least for the past couple of weeks, she had been better. That’s what (Y/N) thought until she got a call one early March morning.

“What do you mean Bella knows about you?” (Y/N) said through gritted teeth. “And it happened a week ago? Why am I just finding out? I literally talked to her before spring break started.”

“It seems Jacob hinted to the stories she used to hear when she was a kid,” Sam sighed. “Gotta give it to the kid. He really found a workaround the rules. I was gonna tell you as soon as it happened, but you had your exams and everything, so no one wanted to worry you with it.”

“How did she take it? Is everyone okay?”

“Well, Jake and Paul had a little row because Bella blamed us for Jacob keeping his distance from her,” her brother chuckled. “And, well, Paul got a bit mouthy, and Bella ended up slapping him—at least, attempting to—which cause him to get angry and phase. Subsequently Jacob phased to protect her. They’re both fine now and Bella knows everything.”

“And no rules were broken I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed. “But Bella now knows about wolves and vampires and somehow is back in the center of all supernatural danger. Isn’t this all just great?”

“This is gonna sound harsh, but I prefer her being hunted than you, (Y/N),” Sam admitted. “I know we can protect you in our land, but this one is ruthless and relentless. I would hate for her to have your scent.”

“Well, she doesn’t, thankfully,” she said. “Don’t think she even had my description since you killed her friend. But I thought we were gonna be more proactive when sharing information now.”

“I know, but I wanted you to at least pass that test first,” he confessed. “Look at you now, on your first week as a student doctor.”

“I still can’t believe it’s happening,” (Y/N) exclaimed. “I don’t know what spirits are looking out for me, but it’s almost unbelievable that I’ve been able to do any of this. It takes months for Step 1 to be revised and for college credits to go through. But I’m knocking on wood that these miracles keep happening like this. Might just become the youngest doctor in Washington.”

“If there’s anyone who could do it, it had to be my genius sister.”

“Thanks for the flattery, it does me well in the mornings,” she chuckled. “But I do have to get into work soon. So, thank you for this new information. I will call Bella and see how she’s doing after my shift.”

“Alright, sounds good, Dr. Uley.”

“I like how that sounds,” she beamed. “I’ll see you after work. Bye, Sam.”

“Bye, Dr. Uley.”

When (Y/N) entered the hospital that morning, she believed it would be another routine day. A couple of flu cases, possibly some broken bones in the ER, maybe even a more pressing case. But she had not expected to see Harry Clearwater coming through the doors of the emergency room, Sue trailing close behind.

“(Y/N), I’m gonna need you on this one,” Dr. Mollins, the ER attending, called. “Let’s move the patient to Trauma 1. Talk to me.”

“We’ve got a man in his mid to late 50s showing signs of a severe myocardial infarction,” the paramedic said as he pushed the gurney into the building. “He went into cardiac arrest during transport, but we were able to regain sinus rhythm. He was administered two milligrams of epi.”

(Y/N) felt stuck in her spot, her limbs frozen as the familiar faces moved past her. She had seen her fair share of emergencies during her time at the hospital and her past internships. But seeing someone that she knew completely defenseless and unconscious shot ice through her veins.

“Dr. Uley!” Mollins called her again. “I need you here, now!”

“Yes, o-of course,” the young woman stammered as she felt her brain finally jumpstart. She sent Sue an apologetic smile as she walked through the curtain that separated Harry’s room from the rest of the beds. “I’m here.”

As soon as she slid the curtain behind her, (Y/N), Eden Mollins, and a nurse started to examine Harry. His blood was extracted, his pulse and his blood pressure were taken, his lungs were listened to, and his temperature was taken. All the while, the man remained unconscious, and (Y/N) prayed to whatever was out there that he at least opened his eyes.

Every second that passed, the girl’s breath hitched in her throat. All she could do was think back at the summers she would spend in the Clearwaters home, running around with Seth and Leah while Harry watched over them, how he and Billy would gather all the kids around the bonfire to tell them stories about the ancestors, how he watched over her and Sam when her father had decided to disappear from their lives.

“I wanna run an EKG and an Echo on the patient,” Eden instructed. “And call in a CT and a chest MRI. The patient is still unconscious, so…”

“Harry,” (Y/N) choked out. “His name is Harry.”

“Excuse me?”

“The patient’s name is Harry,” she restated. “Harry Clearwater.”

“Do you know the pa… Mr. Clearwater, Uley?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You have to tell me right now if that will impair your treatment of the patient today, Uley,” the doctor said. “I cannot have you freeze like you did.”

“Good,” he nodded. “He seems stable for now, so go out there and get some background from the wife. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright then.”

The doctor slid the curtains open to reveal a teary-eyed Sue. Once he was gone, (Y/N) allowed herself to throw her arms around the woman, wrapping her in a tight, warm hug as she whispered how sorry she was. “What happened, Sue?” she whispered. “What caused this? He seemed fine last week.”

“Oh gods, (Y/N), it was just too much for him,” the woman sniffled. “It was Leah. She phased.”

“W-what? Leah shifted into a wolf? How is that possible?”

“That’s not all. The second Harry was down, Seth phased too,” she added. “He said only boys turned into wolves, (Y/N). How could it be that Leah is one too?”

“I could not tell you, Sue,” (Y/N) breathed. “This is just as new to me as it is to you. But what could have triggered the change in Leah? I don’t get it. Thought there were normally signs.”

“Well, she had been acting out a lot recently, and her body started changing dramatically. I thought she was just being a normal moody teenager and that maybe she was going through a second puberty,” Sue sighed. “But this morning, we were arguing about how horrible her mood swings had been, and she just exploded. One second, my daughter was standing before us. And the next, there was a grey wolf breaking through our couch. The shock sent Harry down. His heart just couldn’t take it—you know he’s always had trouble with it. Then, Seth—poor thing—seeing his father go down got so anxious that he shifted too. I tried calling Sam after I called 911, but Emily told me he was out with his wolves chasing that leech out of the forest. “It was all so sudden, (Y/N),” the woman cried, taking (Y/N)’s offered hand. “She ran out the door with Seth behind and I couldn’t stop them. I had to get Harry to the hospital.”

“Oh, Sue, that’s just horrible,” the girl said. “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Tell me, (Y/N). Is it bad? Is Harry gonna be okay?”

(Y/N) took in a steadying breath as she braced herself to tell one of the people who had essentially raised her that her husband was not showing good signs. How could she speak those words when she didn’t want to believe them herself? “Look, Sue, I can’t lie to you. Things are not looking good,” she explained. “With his age, his pre-existing condition, and the severity of this episode, it’s still too early to tell. We need him to wake up in order to assess the situation fully. If not…”

“I know,” Sue interjected. “I just don’t know what I would do without him.”

“Okay, let’s not go there just yet, Sue,” (Y/N) stammered. “Why don’t you call someone to be with you while we run labs? I wouldn’t want you to be alone right now.”

“Don’t worry about me, (Y/N),” she softly smiled. “I already called Charlie and Billy. They’re on their way here already.”

“Good. I’m gonna go check on his labs. If you need anything or need me here, just let one of the nurses know and they’ll page me right back.”

“That’s alright, (Y/N). I know you’re busy.”

When she left the room, (Y/N) finally felt like she could breathe. But there was a nagging in the deepest corners of her head that was telling her that something bad was going to go down. Yet, she wanted to listen to the rational side of her brain. Harry was in the best place to receive treatment if another episode were to happen. She had to trust that they would be able to help him. She simply had to.

The girl busied herself with other patients’ labs and filing anything that kept her as far away from Harry’s results as possible. She couldn’t face another loss so quickly. Not yet. She wasn’t sure if her heart could take it.

During her short life, (Y/N) had faced too many grievances that had forced her to grow up too quickly. Her father had walked out of her life when she was too young, and she needed him the most, forcing her mother to spend too much time at work and too little time at home. Most of the time, it was only Sam and her at home dealing with their schoolwork and food. Then, right as they were learning how to be the dynamic duo, she was accepted at St. Agustine Prep, and she had to learn how to be by herself for the better part of four years. After, she met the man she thought would be her future, and he ripped her heart apart like it hadn’t been fragile to begin with. Sadness was simply a part of (Y/N)’s existence, but she didn’t think there was more she could take.

(Y/N) prayed quietly. She prayed harder than she ever had before in her life. She didn’t know to what exactly, but she prayed.

And yet, the universe rarely played things out in the way she wanted.

The young woman was on her way to greet Billy Black and Charlie Swan when a loud ringing alarm called her attention. It was the soundtrack of despair, the theme song of disappointment, and the last thing (Y/N) wanted to hear. Her legs started moving before she could think twice, setting off for Harry’s room. There, the flatlining sound filled her ears, mixed with Sue’s pleas for help as nurses pulled her aside to allow the doctors to work.

“The patient’s coding, Uley,” Eden called out. “Start compressions. This is your call.”

(Y/N) was already on Harry before Mollins had finished his sentence. Her full attention was on her counts, pressing on his chest like she had been taught to do. One, two, three, four, all the way to thirty before the nurse administered air pumps. Then again, and again.

“Push one milligram of epi,” (Y/N) called out, not stopping her compressions for another three minutes. “Check rhythm.”

As she removed her hands, the screen showed a red line once more, and that pesky sound filled the room again. “Still asystole,” Eden said. “Push another milligram and clear for defib.”

(Y/N) continued her work as sweat formed on her forehead. She pushed into the man’s chest at a steady pace, even when she felt her limbs wanted to give out. Her legs trembled under her, and her heart hammered loudly against her chest, but she couldn’t stop. Even after two defibrillations that yielded no results, the girl kept administering compressions.

“Uley, it’s time to call it,” Mollins whispered softly at the young doctor. “It’s been over thirty minutes.”

“No!” (Y/N) exclaimed. Beads of sweat were falling down her face and mixing with her tears, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Not for Harry. “I’ve gotta keep going!”

“(Y/N),” Eden called her, taking hold of her wrists and forcing her gaze to break from the man. “It’s time to call it.”

“I can’t,” she trembled as she fell onto the doctor. “He can’t…”

But the consistent sound of a flatline killed her words. That was it. Her first patient was gone, and it was someone she had looked up to like a father. Despite all of her efforts, he was gone, and there was nothing else she could do about it.

“Time of death: 1542,” the doctor called to the nurse before turning back to the crumbling girl. “You did everything you could, (Y/N). You did everything right.”

“But he’s gone,” she cried. “He’s gone, and I could’ve done more.”

“No. There was nothing at all that you could have done,” Eden said. "Unfortunately, this is part of the job. We can’t save them all, (Y/N), but you absolutely did everything you could have.”

“I know I can’t save them all, but I needed to save him.”

“Tell you what, I’m gonna break the news to the family right now,” the young man said. “You’re gonna take a second to compose yourself before you go out there, and I want you to take the rest of the day off to rest.”

“I shouldn’t…”

“I know that it’s unconventional, and most doctors would have said that you needed to get used to it,” he added. “But you need this, (Y/N). This case is too personal, and I know it’s gonna take a toll on you.”

“Okay,” she whimpered. “Thank you, Dr. Mollins.”

“I already told you, (Y/N). When we’re off a case, it’s Eden.”

The moment Eden left the room, the silence that filled it was worse than the beeping and the alarms. It was eerie and loaded, and it made (Y/N) feel like it would swallow her at any moment.

Yet, the only other presence there was Harry. His face was covered with a white sheet, shielding his body from everyone. And for that, she was thankful. (Y/N) couldn’t look at his face. She knew her mind would trick her into thinking that he was merely sleeping and that at any moment, he would wake up and say the most unfunny joke she had heard of, but she would have laughed anyway because it would have meant that he was alive.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she whispered to him. “I tried so hard. I hope you know that.”

“He does, honey.” Sue’s voice startled her. Tears stained the woman’s face, but her desperation was gone. She wrapped her arms around the younger girl, smoothing down her hair in a comforting manner. “He knows how hard you fought for him, (Y/N). It was just his time.”

“He was fine just last week,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe he’s just gone now.”

“As long as he is in our memories, he will never truly be gone,” the woman smiled sadly. “But he is with our spirits now, reunited with his ancestors.”

“Harry will never be forgotten that I can promise you, Sue.”

“He really loved you, (Y/N),” Sue mentioned. “He was always so amazed by everything that you were doing. He loved to boast about how far he knew you’d go to literally anyone who would listen. Deep down, he wanted Leah and Sam to work out so we’d be officially family.”

“I’m really gonna miss him, Sue. I wish I had spent more time with him these last few years. And now…”

“Oh, honey, no. Don’t do that,” the woman comforted. “Harry knew how busy you are, how busy you’ve always been. He was just so happy to know you were doing something you loved.”

“May his soul rest easy now,” the girl whimpered before placing a hand on Harry’s. “Until we meet again, Harry.”

(Y/N) excused herself from the room, allowing Sue to have one last moment with Harry. Outside, she acknowledged Charlie and Billy, giving them a sad smile before she disappeared into the doctor’s locker rooms. She couldn’t face another person who was close to Harry, not when she could still feel the beat of his heart under her hands.

Inside the locker room, she allowed herself to break down. She crumpled to the floor, clutching at her chest as every emotion came barreling down on her. There was pain and turmoil, anger and disappointment. But most of all, it was the harrowing sadness that she had been carrying since she was a little girl that draped itself over her, swallowing her completely and dragging her into the darkness.

Until a voice pulled her out. “Hey, hey, Uley,” Eden called as he kneeled in front of her. “Come on, you need to breathe. Take a deep breath.”

“I-I-I c-can’t,” she stammered. Her breath got trapped in her chest, tightening her lungs and making them burn for oxygen.

“Yes, you can. Come on,” he encouraged. “Match my breaths, okay? Come on, in and out.”

Eden took deep breaths, exhaling after holding them for five seconds. His hands found hers, forcing her gaze to snap to his. He continued the breathing exercises until she was finally able to match his pace. Her body stopped shaking, and feeling started returning to her limbs as her sobs quieted down. As weakness took over her, (Y/N) crashed onto Eden’s chest, allowing him to wrap her in a warm and comforting hug.

It was an unexpected embrace that she was more than thankful for. Eden had come to the hospital three months after Carlisle had left to fill the hole left in the emergency department. When (Y/N) had entered and started her clinical rotations, he had been tasked with being her teacher in emergency medicine.

He had not taken to her quickly. From her work as a medical assistant, he had said she was far too young and too inexperienced to be in the hospital. Though he had eaten his words in a short amount of time, he still seemed to hold some sort of disdain for her. At least, that’s what she had thought until that very moment.

“Hey, there you go,” he cooed. “Just keep breathing, okay?”

“Gods,” (Y/N) croaked out. “I’m sorry. I know I should be okay with death, but this…”

“You don’t have to apologize, (Y/N). Never apologize for the emotions you’re feeling,” Eden reassured. “Especially not after losing someone close to you. That is something no one could ever fault you for.”

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” the girl blurted. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but it’s not a secret that you don’t really like me.”

“Why would you think that?” she asked, his tone hinting at being slightly offended. “I don’t think I’ve given any indication of that.”

“Come on, Eden. You’re always giving me dirty looks and have gotten mad at me at any turn this whole week. It’s not hard to decipher that you don’t really enjoy my presence at the hospital.”

“Oh god, no. That has nothing to do with you—at least not directly,” he quickly assured. "I think you’re a brilliant doctor, and I’m honestly so impressed that you’re here at your age. My attitude has more to do with the fact that my parents saw you working here a week after I finally got here, and they were on me because I could have been like you.”

“What, a terrified nineteen-year-old playing at being a doctor?”

“Christ, I didn’t think you’d heard that,” he grimaced. “That came from a really childish place. It’s just that my parents have always pushed me to be the best, much to my detriment. I had the ability to jump a few grades or do dual enrollment like you did, but I wanted the whole high school experience. So, even if I graduated at sixteen and finished my bachelor's in three years, I could have always done better. So, here I am at twenty-five and already an attending, but in comes a nineteen-year-old med student who somehow was able to skip two whole years of med school and had an almost perfect Step 1 score, and suddenly my achievements aren’t good enough anymore. I’m sorry I ever said that. I mean, I’m a grown-ass man caring what my parents think.”

“Don’t worry,” she smiled softly. “It just made me want to prove myself even more. I’m kind of used to people underestimating me.”

“Yeah, I quickly learned I shouldn’t have,” he chuckled. “You’re a great doctor, (Y/N), and a great person.”

“Well, thank you,” she beamed. "It honestly means a lot coming from you, especially now.”

“I can promise that was the first and last time I ever underestimate you,” Eden smiled brightly. “Now, you should go home. Your brother just came back.”

“Came back?”

“He arrived when you were down at the CT scan, but he left for an emergency,” the man responded. “He just came back a minute after you left the room.”

At the word emergency, (Y/N) jumped to her feet and ran toward the emergency room, new tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It was a word that held too much weight even before the entire picture was shown. After that morning, the girl could only expect the worst.

Her limbs carried her automatically, her brain not registering where she was going until she crashed into someone. “Is someone else hurt?” she managed to croak out. “Tell me what happened, Sam.”

“Hey, breathe, (Y/N),” her brother instructed as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. “No one’s hurt. Okay? It was just an accident.”

“That still doesn’t make things clearer. What accident?”

“Bella sort of jumped or slipped off a high cliff while we were running Victoria all the way up to the Canadian border,” he said. “I had been here for no more than ten minutes when Jared called me and said that Jake had gotten there just in time. She’s fine now. A bit shaken up and cold, but she’s at Billy’s house resting. You don’t have to worry, (Y/N). It’s been handled.”

“So, she almost drowned, and all she’s doing is sleeping it off?” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Why didn’t you bring her here? She needs to be checked out!”

“(Y/N), I need you to calm down, okay? She chose not to come, and you shouldn’t be worrying about this. You should be going home and resting, too.”

“But she’s…”

“You’re in no headspace to worry about other people, Bean,” Sam cooed as he smoothed down his sister’s hair. “Go home, kid. Rest up. We’ve got things from here.”

“But…”

“Go home, (Y/N),” Sue interjected, a kind smile softly stretching her face. “All that’s left here is legal mumbo jumbo. You’ve done everything you possibly can.”

“I just feel like I need to help in some way. Either here or with Bella. I just…”

“You can’t help anyone if you don’t take care of yourself, Bean,” her brother interrupted. “I promise we’ve got everything handled here, kid.”

After much insistence and a lot of back-and-forth, (Y/N) finally agreed to take her afternoon off and head back home. But loneliness was quick to follow as soon as she was by herself. It sank its claws into her throat and started a never-ending stream of tears that stained her cheeks. Helplessness gripped her chest, nagging at her mind and reminding her of all the things she couldn’t do.

Before she knew it, the afternoon had slowly shifted into night, and (Y/N)’s eyes had fluttered shut in the hospital parking lot. Now, with less weight in her heart and a tight knot in her neck, she sputtered her truck to life and started her trip back home, where she would most likely repeat the same process all over again.

When she got there, the house was eerily quiet, and the cold seeped into her bones as though winter was still scratching its way to the surface. But she knew why it felt that way, and she knew it would be like that for a long time.

Other than Sue, (Y/N) couldn’t get Seth and Leah out of her head. Not only had they been sprung into the supernatural world in such a dramatic way, but they had also lost their father and had not been able to say goodbye. She wondered if they were scared or angry, if a part of them felt guilty. She knew she did, and she couldn’t imagine how heavy it had to weigh on their own hearts and minds.

She was typing their house number when her house phone suddenly rang in her hand, startling her. “Hello?” she said through the phone.

“(Y/N), hi, it’s uh, Bella,” the Swan girl stammered in her usual fashion. “I heard about… I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, Bella,” she smiled sadly, swallowing down the knot that threatened to close her throat. “Are you okay? Sam told me what happened this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It was just a horrible accident,” Bella answered quickly. “But I’m fine now. I was actually calling about something else.”

“Oh. Uh, what is it?”

“Do you think you could come over right after the funeral?”

“To your house?” (Y/N) questioned. “Why?”

“I think there’s someone you should see.”

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improbable-outset · 2 years

Text

𝐀 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐬 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐑𝐞𝐝

Hank J. Wimbledon x gn!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7K

MadCom Masterlist | AO3 | 🅱️laylist

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Non-cannon Hank bc I said so 🤌🏽🤌🏽Yandere themes, Obsessive behaviour, some psychological horror, serious gore, graphic descriptions of injuries, injury marks during work, mental asylum settings, cursing (sorry can’t help myself) a brief description of mental disorders and slight manipulation at the end - please be mindful of the triggering content.

𝐀/𝐍: Okay, so I’ve got the Yandere themes from @saltymongoose head cannons here and here. (Look salty, I would submit this to you but I have no idea how submissions work) Of course, reader isn’t a Player! But a Doctor! I put my own twist to it so it will match the story line. Yeah it gonna be a little bit more… violent than wholesome. Also you don’t understand the amount of research I had to do to perfect this 😭 watching a documentary of inside a psychiatric hospital and read a handful of articles. Also after watching season 4 of Stranger Things I kinda grew an interest on asylum AU’s - I’ll give you a small spoiler for this fic quoted from the show ‘what have you done?’😟 (also want to thank @deimosed for those sweet words from my last Hank fic)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After working your way up your career ladder, you’re excited to be offered a place in Nevada’s notorious psychiatric hospital as a full time psychiatrist. This is a massive opportunity for your career. But things aren’t so glamorous and rewarding as it seems when you start to discover the inside works of the hospital with their dark and twisted system to ensure everyone, especially the employees, abides by their extensive rules and policies. You start to learn that the hospital's high reputation may not be so organic. Meanwhile, you develop a secret admirer amongst one of your patients who will do anything to be alone with you and to have you for himself (and maybe save you) - even if it means breaking a few rules.

I’d let these people bleed out if you told me you liked the colour red.

The janitors must’ve used some strong cleaning products again. Waking up to the bitter-sweet smell of disinfectant is not really the ideal way to start your morning. After a few inhales, it starts to get into your head and makes you nauseous. It’s not a scent that you would call ‘homely’.

Fortunately, it does fade as the day goes by but the pungent smell of old piss quickly replaces it by late afternoon and then the vicious cycle starts again in the morning. The sickeningly sweet smell really reflects the cryptic ambiance of the building.

But for patients like Hank, who has stayed in the hospital for a while, the stench doesn’t bother him. It does start to grow in you to the point where you forget what fresh clean air smells like.

Hank takes another glance at the clock for the umpteenth time in the last couple of hours. It was coming up to that time. He can feel his heart accelerating as the seconds pass by. Since he’s all ready, he can sit and watch in front of the clock until finally hearing those footsteps echo in the hall, getting louder as they step closer. Two nurses reach his room, both in their scrubs and ready to escort him out.

“The doctor wants to see you Hank, let’s get going,” the taller of the two says.

They both lead him to another room. This isn’t anything new to Hank. Having to go to the checkup rooms regularly to see the doctor was part of the routine. More footsteps could be heard and immediately he knew it was you. He has your footfall rhythm memorised. Even outside the checkup sessions, he can easily recognise you walking from a distance away. He watches as you make your way in - a warmth reflecting from your eyes with a smile.

“Nice seeing you early today Hank, did you sleep well?” Your voice is amplified over everyone else’s; it’s sweet, hypnotic and endearing to the ears.

All of his senses heighten as soon as you’re near (or as he watches you from afar). As you step closer towards the seat opposite him, he catches the familiar soapy aloe vera scent from you. It’s refreshing and it's definitely more pleasant than the sterile smell of the hospital. Whenever his session ends, he feels like he can still just capture the scent lingering a while longer the minute you leave the room. You’re just so fascinating with how you approach things and how you approach him.

You start to write on your clipboard the date and his name. Hanks eyes are stuck staring at your hand holding the pen. He secretly wishes that you would accidentally misplace or leave your pen one day in the room before you go to your next patient so he could keep it for himself - something that you touched and held onto everyday and probably has your sweat and fibre on it. But unfortunately, due to previous cases of patients using pens as weapons and poking peoples eyes out, doctors and anyone else using a pen has to make sure they keep them safe with them.

“Your mood has definitely improved in the last few weeks Hank, I’m pleased to see that,” your praise causes a wave of euphoria to surge through him. He wants all of your praises. All of the sweet words that come out of your lips. He knows he wants you for himself and wishes the nurses weren’t in the room with the two of you so he can be all alone with you.

The check up comes to an end and you finish it off with “I’ll see you next week Hank,” before you leave to go off to your next patient while he stays in the room with the two nurses beside him a little while longer. It’s easy to forget that he’s not the only one you’re caring for especially with how he’s so engrossed in the moment.

But the thought of you looking after other people besides him, giving them your attention and your time to them doesn’t sit right with him. Actually it enrages him. They don’t deserve you. You need someone who you can feel safer with. These people don’t have the facilities for that. The more he thinks about it, the harder his fist clenched to the point where the knuckles were turning white. Fortunately, he’s able to keep this heated anger in control quickly since he’s still on the fucking medication that slowing his brain .

But Hank is not going to allow their luck to run any longer with you…

Working in a mental hospital isn’t something that you nor your colleagues discuss outside of work. As far as people outside are aware, you’re just a doctor working and giving care in a private hospital. Confidentiality is strictly enforced - anything that happens in the building stays within the four walls.

You have to wear full sleeves to hide the bruises that you get from handling some of the violent patients. The nurses always have it worse since they do interact with them more but that doesn’t mean yours aren’t visible enough to raise some concerns. You do try to scrutinise the job and see the rewarding sides to it though, despite how exhausted you are already.

That burnt soreness on your tongue is still there from the hot coffee you finished just earlier and what's worse is that after rummaging through your work bag, you found that you’re fresh out of breath mints. Well shit then - you’re stuck with having coffee breath until your tight lunch break. Coffee breath was the last thing that you’re concerned about though, with the busy schedule you have today. You just completed the inpatient care and are now providing care to the outpatient department.

Your clipboard is under your tight grip as you’re filling in the details. Sitting opposite you is Peter, your last morning patient. He has a skinny and pale frame and just like most of the other patients, he has a buzz-cut hairstyle.

“So, it’s been a good month since I prescribed you your new medications for your schizophrenia. How has it been affecting you?” Your eyes are still glued to your clipboard.

“It’s been better than the old one, I don’t have any severe side effects,” Peter replied, possessing a strong southern accent.

“That’s perfect, but I will still need the nurses to check your blood sugar levels from time to time. High cholesterol is one of the side effects of this new medication,” You scrape your tongue with your front teeth briefly, trying to soothe the soreness as you speak while mentally reminding yourself to push through and that this is your last patient before your break.

Out of nowhere, the sound of someone screaming could be heard coming from a few rooms away. It's normal to hear some patients yelling occasionally whether it’s them resisting medication or their mood swings going haywire. After all, one of the biggest conflicts between patients and doctors is medication. But this doesn’t sound like someone was resisting. None of the screaming that you’ve heard sounded like this. This is more shrilling, you can almost hear the fear in their cry before it cuts off with crunching sounds and gargling despair and then it stops.

“Doc…?” Peter’s voice shakes as he speaks. He's now starting to hyperventilate - a bad sign that his anxiety is accumulating.

“Everything will be okay, I’m sure the nurses got it handled,” in truth, you were pretty tense yourself but you had to keep your composure and stay calm, for the sake of your patient.

One of the many vital rules that is heavily emphasised is that healthcare staff must leave their patient in a healthy and calm condition. Anything else is a sign of inadequate treatment and can result in a strike. You’re already on your first one and the punishment you faced was just about bearable. You can’t afford another strike on your record - the week has barely started. Really, that should encourage you to prioritise your patient but you can’t help but wonder what was going on out there. It doesn't help when you hear more screaming, this time it’s a masculine voice and you could just about make out what he’s saying before it stops.

“Please don’t hurt me! Where are the fucking nurses ah-!” There’s a painful howl before it cuts off silent again. You and Peter stay quiet waiting for any more disturbing sounds but the silent prologue for a full minute.

“Will it make you feel better if I take a look outside?” He nods, still staying quiet from shock. You’re not going to leave the room since you can’t leave Peter unattended, they’re watching what you’re doing in a control room through a monitor, so you just stick your head out the door and scan the wide hallways. Of course, you can’t see anything because it was coming from one of the other rooms.

The temptation of just leaving the room is drilling in your head. For God's sake, why would they be focusing on you and watching you do your job when they should be focusing on whatever the hell was going on out there?

It seems like they read your mind because the emergency alarms start blaring through the perpetual halls with red lights flashing. You’ve never heard the emergency alarms go off, not until today at least and that was enough for you to exit the patient room. You can hear Peter calling after you, asking where you’re going or what you’re going to do. You don’t really know what you're doing, you're just following these intrusive thoughts, jogging lightly and just hoping it’s not the worst. Whatever the worst may be.

There's more uncontrollable screams that continue to echo through the halls sounding more distant as it bounces off the walls but with still the same level of fear etched in their voices if not, more. The ringing of the alarm is still going off, sounding more urgent and louder. Your head starts to spin as you replay that one sentence in your head…

I’m sure the nurses got it handled.

You stop for a moment and look back at how far you’ve gone - Peter's room feels like miles away now when you’ve only walked a few metres. You have a sense of discomfort that seems to erupt inside you. A strong feeling that something was going to happen. Before you could turn back to continue you felt something hit the back of your head causing a sharp pain shooting through your skull. Your body collapses forward and slowly and you feel your consciousness slip away and vision fade into blackness.

There’s a sharp inhale before you feel your senses coming back to you slowly as you open your eyes. It took you a moment to gather yourself together and remember your surroundings. There’s no more screaming or alarms - nothing but the sound of your pulse hammering in your ears. The halls are still flashing red. Not good. Your vision is still a little blurry and your heads throbbing like mad. Stupid concussion. You still don’t know who the fuck just slammed the back of your head like that.

What’s worse is you don’t know how long you were knocked out but if it’s this quiet, something is definitely not right. What happened to Peter? Shit. With extra precaution and making sure you don’t collapse again, you lift yourself up from the floor and make your way to Peter’s room with wobbly steps. The room isn’t that far for you but your body is still weak and moving painstakingly slow. When you reach his room, you almost throw up at the sight inside.

Someone got to him before you could because now he’s on the floor with his mouth stretched open so wide, the cheeks are torn out. Despite Peter’s thin face and prominent cheekbones, you could still see the fleshy meat from his cheeks that had been plumped out. There was no way someone could do this with their bare hands. Some sick person must’ve used a metal instrument to rip this poor man’s face.

His arms and legs were completely popped out of their joints and dislocated. The crunching you heard earlier must’ve been the sound of bones joints snapping from elsewhere. His gown is now stained with blood from his mouth. You’ve seen a lot of gory scenes at your job but nothing like this. You can’t stomach the sight any longer so you leave feeling utterly repulsed and a little guilty that you can’t do anything. Why did you have to leave him alone? You were hoping the image would leave your mind but it’s already locked in making you feel queasy.

You don’t know where you’re going since there’s no lead and the screaming has stopped. There’s a feeling of emptiness and torment hovering around you as you stiffly walk through the halls, closing in on one of the ward rooms - you weren’t prepared to see inside so when you catch a glimpse of one of the patients on the floor, the squeamish feeling inside your stomach returns.

Inside you could see a few more patients on the floor, arms and legs dislocated as well as their heads being twisted until their necks were snapped. Their faces aren’t mutilated like Peter’s but you could see some of them have holes on the side of their heads where their ears used to be and are now replaced with a crimson pool that dripped down their faces and on the floor. Clearly whoever did this, wanted to get the job done fast.

Each room you pass, you see more and more limp forms littering the floor, not only patients but the healthcare workers there as well - doctors and nurses. It’s all out of control. There are bloody hands smeared and printed on the wall too. The more you continue to walk, the more alone you feel knowing that the people you care for and work with are gone. You feel like you’re surrounded by ghosts - spirits just floating around you. You push your way through the double door and make your way to the main reception, now fully bracing yourself for the worst yet to come.

Hank can feel the heated vexation across his face and the blood rushing in his ears as he gawks down at the last dead body with pride. He was sure that he managed to wipe out everyone in this poor excuse of a hospital. It’s not like it’s a big building so surely after 2 hours, he can wrap it up and call it a job well done. But it’s not complete until he finds you again. Find your sleeping form that is, since he had to knock the fucking day lights out of you. You don’t deserve to see what he did - he’s hoping you’re still knocked out before he retrieves you.

Before he could turn around, there’s the sound of the heavy double doors squeaking as you pushed your way with aggression. The hostility quickly melts away from you as you stare intensely at him, frozen in place from shock. Your mouth starts to quiver and Hank notices a few tears just spilling from your eyes.

“What have you done?!” Your voice breaks with distress. Hank steps a little closer, the metal pipe slips out from his bloody hands as he walks towards you. You’re always easy on the eye but now the glow that would always radiate from you is flushed out. The eye bags under your eyes is more visible now and the rims of it are now red from your salty tears. You look raw and Hank finds himself absolutely adoring this state of you. Probably more now than ever.

He still doesn’t understand why you’re so upset though. Why do you cry for these people? You didn’t mean anything to them. They just used you as a product for your intelligence and for their advantage. Of course you don’t understand that now but one day, you will be grateful for what he has done.

And that’s a promise.

Dividers by @maysdigitalarts

I usually rely on Grammerly to check my spellings and grammar but I’m literally typing this on my phone as I speak so there might be some errors.

#madness combat #madness combat x reader #hank j wimbleton x reader #hank madcom #hank madness combat #hank j. wimbleton #hank j. wimbleton x reader #madcom x reader #MadCom hank #graphic descriptions of violence #graphic description #yandere madness combat #SoundCloud #ayrus writes

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sebastianswallows · 10 months

Text

Dangerous and Delightful — Chapter 5 — Old books and brandy

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is a purveyor of forbidden artefacts, a dark arts researcher, and a curse-breaker for hire. Ominis, desperate to save him from himself, hires Reader in secret to persuade him, by any means necessary, to leave his illegal activities behind.

— WARNINGS: angst, smut, male masturbation

— WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

— TAGLIST: @bloofinntoona @sarcasticpluviophile @estrotica

Sebastian spent the whole night after meeting her awake, thinking about her, keeping the cursed necklace she had given him to destroy on his bedside table. It was only the third time they met, but for some reason, there had been a different quality to it. Perhaps because it had not been planned — he hadn't expected her to write to him... Or perhaps it was because he had been in her home, seen the inside her of it, felt her touch on every item, every little book, every old picture...

And then, there was the matter of her family. Who was trying to curse her? And what had happened to her brother? Was he really missing in the Aeolian Islands, or was there something else at play?

Sebastian took his layers of stiff clothes off thoughtfully, his thoughts always circling the same — her, her company, her words, her scent, the taste of the skin of her little hand, her warmth, her home, her pleading looks and prying questions — and once he had taken everything off and his skin chilled in the coolth of his room, he walked over to the liquor shelf and poured himself a generous glass of brandy.

He lay in bed, waiting to feel tired. It never came.

Eventually, he sat up and stretched his back as he walked around the room. He stared at the necklace on the bedside table as if it were the solution to it all... Well, if he couldn't sleep, maybe he could at least get through some of the research he had in mind. He only needed to inspect it more thoroughly to get a hint as to who had cast the curse on it. And, to keep his word, he could destroy it afterwards. He’d thought of all manner of spells to try on it while they had drinks at her house, and had worked himself into somewhat of an enthusiasm to apply them.

“What she doesn’t know won’t make her mad at me,” he muttered, sitting at his desk in the nude.

For the next few hours, he piled books upon books beside him, reading up on decryption spells and incantations, the alcohol blurring his vision ever so slightly every time he took a sip.

She had asked that he destroy the necklace, seeming uninterested in finding out who in her family wanted to curse her — or her brother. Sebastian thought it was a bad idea… If he could get to the bottom of the curse, wouldn’t that be better? Would it be more helpful? Wouldn’t that be of more service to her?

Why would she deny it, anyway? Probably to spare her family… She seemed terribly protective of them — which he both did and didn’t understand.

Well, whatever it was she felt for them, he was spared of such limitations.

He turned the necklace in the air with a light levitation spell, examining it closely. Several detection spells bounced off it, but there were a few that stuck.

He had a lot of respect for what it took to make an item like this… Whoever was trying to curse her was clearly a witch or wizard of skill. It had been cursed calmly, without malice, almost with a sweetness to it — and yet the curse would be lethal, he was sure of it. Sebastian pulled out a thick tome on the nature of curses and a notebook, flipping the pages of the heavy book and searching for any mention of something that matched the item before him. He hadn’t studied anything like this since his days at Hogwarts… Most curses he’d dealt with in his work since then were strong, showy, even explosive. There was an ego behind them that was lacking here.

After half an hour, he found a description that closely matched the kind of magic employed on this piece.

“A variant of the Curse of the Lost Soul. Interesting,” he mumbled to himself as he took a few notes. He took a deep pull of brandy and rolled it on his tongue as he thought about it. “Not as original as I first thought, but the power of these things is often underrated.”

Having identified it, he now knew that it was safe to touch, just not to wear around one’s neck. Taking it slowly, he traced a finger over the incantation markings and tried to get a feeling for the amount of magic put into the curse.

There was something cold and cloying about it, he’d felt as much when examining it at her home… Like hands reaching out from a grave, ivy crawling up stone, or a greedy siren in the Great Lake at Hogwarts. It would grab hold of whoever wore it and sap them of all warmth and motion, leaving behind the coldest, dries corpse. It was slow but penetrating. If not for the chill emitted from the gemstones, one might think nothing of it. He found himself greatly relieved — and impressed — that she detected it in time.

Sebastian scratched the back of his neck as he focused his bleary eyes on it, the muscles in his back unwinding. There was no prying the curse off or disenchanting it — at least, not if he was being realistic. A spell that took so long to act took even longer to undo, and he didn’t have weeks to spare for it. There was nothing left to do but to destroy it, as she had asked him to. And yet…

He looked at it. It was a pretty piece, if a little plain. And it was something from her, an heirloom of her family even… Those things had a certain significance beneath and beyond the magical.

Yes, he could keep it a while longer, and reveal all of its secrets in time. Maybe he could discover who in her family hated her so. She was certain to think more highly of him then — not just as a smuggler or dark wizard, but a true friend, a loyal companion, and more…

More... The word ricocheted between his ears and sent a shiver down his spine.

His legs tensed beneath the table and he spread his legs a little wider, settling himself more comfortably on the chair. He thought long and hard, sitting there at the desk with an empty bottle and a still-full glass. He needed to make a profile of whoever crafted that curse, and then match it up against the most likely suspects from her family. It had to be somebody skilled, and comfortable with curses, familiar with old ones too, but likely not in the business of using them often. Someone with more delicacy and patience than the sort of people he’d meet around Borgin and Burkes. It was likely to be hard to learn their identity without giving up his own, if he decided to go asking around…

He rubbed his eyes, feeling them burning from the late night light and alcohol, then looked at it again laying supine and curled up on his desk. This necklace was something of hers, a link she had to her family history... How could he possibly throw it away?

“Oh, bollocks,” said Sebastian, standing up and starting towards his trunk. He grabbed the necklace, placed it back into its box, then tucked it in a corner of his trunk between other cursed and precious things. Standing up, he closed the trunk again and locked it firmly. “I'll deal with you later,” he muttered.

He went to sleep thinking about her.

He woke up thinking about her.

He’d thought there was a certain loveliness about her ever since they met, but after last night, there was a petulant, greedy, needy feeling clawing its way out of his chest, and every moment was spent missing her, wondering what she was doing, wondering what she would think of his little flat or his bed or the street he lived on…

He imagined himself making her laugh, mimicking and making fun of his neighbour who practised the flute every afternoon — he’d been doing it ever since Sebastian moved in two years ago and had only gotten worse. Or pointing out to her when the cat from the little old witch in the building opposite, Mrs Cloke, took a tour of the rooftops. He was a chubby tomcat in black and white named Sweetie, and he loved to stalk the birds. Sebastian enjoyed watching Sweetie play with his victims, or when he clutched them in his mouth to bring as a present to his mistress.

Perhaps they would just lie in bed, slipping in and out of sleep, his fingers curling in her hair, her legs wrapped around him… Would she stay with him after she woke, or hurry to get up? He’d make her stay anyway, and keep her amused, keep her in a state of constant pleasure if she’d let him, kissed and caressed and pampered and worshipped… A rage of thoughts battered his conscience, but he could think of nothing better than to start the day by loving her.

Why couldn’t she just be there?

Why had he left the night before without saying anything? He’d demanded to see her again, the only form of compensation he wanted, but now that she asked for the necklace to be destroyed she had no reason to. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again but, well, he knew where she lived, so he could always — no.

Sebastian turned in bed and looked out the window. Cloudy, foggy, rainy day, unworthy of spring. It was a Friday, and quite late in the afternoon judging by his pocket watch braced on his bed table — not an unusual time for him to wake up, as he was usually home late on most days. On Friday evenings in particular he had a business meeting with two enterprising gentlemen in Knockturn Alley. Sighing, he turned around the hugged his pillow. His sheets felt warm, too warm, and damp with sweat as if he had been feverish during the night. A rush of hot and cold trickled like waves beneath his skin to pool at his loins. He grunted in frustration at what could have been a pleasant feeling, turned bitter by his loneliness.

Sebastian slid a hand beneath his stomach, down to his hips, down to his thighs, and gripped the throbbing length. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sensation, his manhood far too sensitive and sore, as if it had been working hard all night long — if only. Gingerly, he felt around the head and was embarrassed to find it damp, a trickle of wet seeping all over and making his thighs stick. Sebastian buried his face into the pillow, then trailed the tip of his fingers along the underside. He moaned. Another rush of slick got pumped out of him just by the slow, hungry throb... His skin felt pliable and warm there, soft as velvet and as hot as fiendfyre, as he began to move his hand up and down.

As he teased himself, he slid his arm beneath the pillow and brought it to his face, burying his mouth in it to muffle the moans that came. He thrust up into his tight fist and squeezed tighter, punishing himself.

He was unworthy of her, completely unworthy of her. He was a murderer and a thief, his spirit soiled beyond cleansing, while she was sweet and gentle and good and deserved better, and he wanted to kill every last man that was more worthy of her than he was…

Feeling the strain of the position, Sebastian pulled his arm from underneath him and wrapped it too around the pillow, hugging it against his face with both arms, sinking his lonely, needy moans in its softness while he spread his legs and rubbed his swollen manhood on the sheets, back arching to better press his stomach against it. His heavy panting and the plaintive whines came out of him all muffled, and he wished he could hold her to him like that, and bury his pleas into her hair, and his lips into her neck, and not let her see him crying. He thrust faster into the empty sheets, pressing harder, making his tip ache and burn. None of it was enough.

“Oh, please,” he whimpered into the pillow, squeezing it tighter, “please please please…”

He didn’t even know what he was asking for, just that he felt out of breath and dizzy and he needed something, anything to happen, to end it.

His traitorous length was weeping steadily, wetting his stomach until the rubbing turned into a slide, and his sheets stuck to his skin after he pressed down into them.

“Please,” he whimpered hoarsely, begging, “please take it…”

His thighs were tense and burning, sweat pooled at his lower back, and he felt no closer to being satisfied than when he started. Weakly, he lifted his face from the pillow and gripped the headboard behind it, then pulled himself up to a slightly drier spot on the bed.

“Oh that’s it,” he moaned, looking down at his body, past the lost little freckles and the smattering of chest hair sticking to his skin. He could just barely see a hint of the dark red tip peeking from beneath his stomach, squeezed down, rubbed within its soft skin.

His face felt hot and damp, his arms flexed painfully at the angle he was working with, and he felt like he was drowning... Still hanging on to the headboard, he tilted his head back and let his lips part, sucking in greedy breaths as he worked himself toward his pleasure, canting his hips at sharper, deeper angles, letting himself press down more heavily over his manhood, teasing himself, making sure the head slipped completely out of its protective skin before it was covered again, then pressed out fully, rubbed raw and exposed, and back once more into softness.

He felt the lick of flames beneath the skin of his inner thighs, felt the little coil of something sweet and wet between his legs, and then his whole body was shaken by a rush of cold and then of warmth again and he had to bite into the muscle of his upper arm to keep himself from screaming and his thrusts stuttered and his stomach tensed and a dribble of something thick started seeping from his tip — and then the air of the room was stirred by the thunder of a knock on his door.

Sebastian caught his breath and stilled, listening carefully. Whoever was there knocked again louder, with a fist.

Gingerly, so as to not make a sound, Sebastian got up off the bed and wordlessly summoned a bathrobe with one hand while with the other he picked up his wand from the bedside table. His heart was still thumping in his chest, but it calmed as his skin caught the cool air of the room. The robe wasn’t much, but it conveniently concealed his hardened length. He was far from decent, but whoever it was that would pound on his door unannounced was hardly worth more.

He walked carefully to the front door and listened. A simple revealment spell told him there were two people on the other side — men, rather broad, stiff looking…

“Who is it?” he asked breathlessly, wand at the ready.

“Auror office,” said a gruff voice. “Open up.”

Sebastian bit his lip and cursed. He didn’t want to let them in, but running away now would only establish his guilt… And if they came all the way here rather than ambush him somewhere, they must have still had their doubts.

He removed the wards on his room and unlocked the door. Two moustached wizards with unshaven cheeks were on the other side, one brown and the other black-haired, around 40 and 50 years old respectively. They regarded him coolly, staring him up and down. Sebastian felt the last shiver of his unfulfilled pleasure abandon him, lost as the sweat chilled off his body, as his heart pumped steadily, and his muscles relaxed, ready for anything.

“Sebastian Sallow?” spoke the taller of the two.

“Who’s asking?” he said, then cleared his throat, his voice still rather rough and sounding a little choked.

“We’re from the Auror office —”

“Yes, I gathered as much. What is this about?”

They stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation.

After giving him another cursory glance, they began to look around his flat while they continued speaking. Their eyes went to his desk first, filled with a bigger pile of books and papers than they were perhaps used to seeing, a scattering of ruffled quills, and so many and varied ink wells that it looked like a laboratory.

Sebastian was, at least, grateful that their eyes weren’t on him anymore. He closed the door and watched them, his right hand stuffed in his robe pocket clutching his wand, while he shifted from one leg to the other, trying to look normal.

“What business are you in?” asked the black-haired one with the brown eyes.

“Curse-breaker for hire. And what are your names?”

“You’re employed by… whom?”

“Whomever’s paying,” he replied with a smirk.

“Pays well?”

“Not really,” he shrugged, half-lying. “But it’s one of the few things I’m good at.”

“Good at it, are you?” asked the Auror, levelling a hard gaze at him.

Sebastian swallowed the knot in his throat but shrugged and smiled charmingly. He still felt lightheaded enough to be a little dotty.

“A lot of people are good at a lot of things,” said the Auror, “but few are skilled enough in breaking curses.”

“Just haven’t tried my hand at much, then, I suppose.”

“And who pays for that sort of thing?” he asked, poking his wand through Sebastian’s pile of clothes.

“For what?”

“Curse-breaking.”

“I have a hard time remembering their names,” said Sebastian, scratching the sweaty back of his head. “Most sound awfully French or something.”

Their booted steps were heavy in his flat, dirtying up the carpet, kicking it aside at the corners to look for any hidden nooks, then bending down to leaf through his notebooks. They’d find nothing there but his research into salvaging the lady’s necklace, perfectly innocuous. Their eyes passed over his unmade bed and quickly move past it. He breathed a sigh of relief.

The brown-haired Auror with the blue eyes stared him up and down after a while.

“A bit late to still be in your bathrobe,” he said.

“You caught me just after my ablutions,” smirked Sebastian, threading his fingers through his hair that, at the temples, was so sweaty it looked wet.

The Auror stared him in the eye with his milky gaze, and Sebastian stared back — a poor attempt at Legilimensy, easily deflected.

“Do you happen to know a shop called Borgin and Burkes?” he then asked.

“Who doesn’t?” chuckled Sebastian.

“Decent wizards don’t.”

“Well, you did catch me in a moment of indecency.”

Neither of them appreciated the joke, but Sebastian couldn’t help but grin about it.

“They’re involved in suspicious activity,” said the taller Auror.

“You don’t say.”

“I would recommend you keep your distance, Mr Sallow.”

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Say,” started the shorter Auror, “you don’t happen to be related to a wizard called Solomon, do you?”

“Yes,” said Sebastian stiffly. “Why? Knew him?”

“In his later years, yes,” he said, looking at Sebastian from the corner of his eye. “Was dishonourably dismissed, from what I recall.”

“Was he now?”

“Used the wrong spell at the wrong time,” said the other, frowning at his colleague. “Nothing more to say about it.”

Their hands were on their wands, but they didn’t cast any spells around his belongings while Sebastian was watching, although they clearly meant to. Their eyes at some point fell to his large trunk, a treasure trove of proscribed artefacts. Sebastian put on a disinterested look, leaning against the door and picking at a piece of lint beneath his fingernail while they picked his life apart. The two Aurors exchanged a silent look, but shifted their attention away from it — as they were meant to. Sebastian had never had cause to test the Distraction charm he’d cast on his trunk, a spell that made it thoroughly uninteresting to casual observers, but he was enormously pleased to see it worked.

“We’re looking into the legitimacy of some of their wares. There might —”

“Whose was that, again?”

“Burke’s.”

“Ah.”

“There might be a reward for any relevant information. We have ways of repaying anonymous sources too,” said the taller Auror. “If you hear anything…”

He extracted a calling card and left it on Sebastian’s desk.

Alistair Gray

• Senior Auror •

Level 2 • Ministry of Magic • Office 208

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Sebastian, opening the door and leaning against it, wordlessly inviting them to leave.

With another brief look around, the two wizards tilted their bowler hats and left.

Sebastian shut the door right after away and sighed, placing his wards again, and stronger ones this time too. He knew he’d caught the attention of the Auror office for a couple of years, but he’d never actually spoken to any before. His fears had nearly abated, until now… Very untimely too, since he was supposed to meet Caractacus Burke that evening to speak about a shipment coming in through Dover.

He went anyway to meet the man, although he arrived two hours in advance and kept his distance, watching from a building across the street for any unfamiliar faces. The evening was damp and a little rainy, and Knockturn Alley was hardly the best-lit stretch of street, but he didn’t notice anyone or anything out of the ordinary, thank Salazar…

Sebastian didn’t like Aurors. Didn’t like seeing them, didn’t like speaking to them, didn’t like being spoken to by them. His Uncle Solomon had something to contribute to those sentiments, but his business ventures contributed much more. He knew Mr Burke felt very much the same, which was why he expected him to be understanding.

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

“I don’t want to see them outside my door again,” said Sebastian firmly. “They know we’re working together. They must be watching your shop. Today was a threat.”

“A threat of what?” the old man sniffed.

The low candlelight in the backroom of his store shined off his balding head like a crystal globe. He always met Sebastian in the back, or far away from his store entirely if they were discussing something hazardous to either of their liberties. Caractacus Burke was a sleek and slimy peddler of the untoward, the dangerous, the forbidden… It had seemed earlier on in Sebastian’s career that he could put up with his more scrofulous traits in exchange for a promising window into the area of dark magic. But as their collaboration stretched on for years, mostly at Sebastian’s expense and rarely to his profit, he grew more and more impatient with the wizard.

“I don’t intend to find out,” hissed Sebastian. “I’m not saying I won’t work for you at all, just… not for a while.”

He didn’t exactly trust that Burke wouldn’t use this as an excuse to drop him altogether for someone younger and more naive, but Sebastian knew when he was needed. There weren’t many wizards willing to undertake this sort of work, and there were even fewer with his skills. Burke himself, in spite of the wealth of artefacts he’d amassed, was only skilled in bartering, and lying, and swindling, skills that even a filthy muggle could possess. He’d know nothing of the value of the artefacts that came his way if not for Sebastian to reveal them, and he certainly didn’t have the patience nor the brains for the research it required.

“How long, then?” asked Burke.

“That’s for me to decide, isn’t it?”

“There might not be any work left for you when you return,” he spat.

“Oh yes,” grinned Sebastian, stepping back toward the creaking staircase, “there will be.”

There was always work in bringing items safely to London, and for the finer things, Sebastian was sometimes even sent to see them brought to Callais from wherever they originated. He’d seen much of the continent like that, more than any of his Hogwarts peers did, even the wealthy ones. But it appeared those lovely days of travelling in secret through the cold night air or through dark waters were over, for now…

Sebastian looked left and right before going out of the shop, and cast another Revelio for good measure, but there was nobody suspicious tracing him — or so he thought.

Which was why he was very disappointed to have been wrong when he arrived back at his flat only to find the same pair of Aurors knocking on his door. Sebastian turned around in a heartbeat and walked the other way, down the stairs, down into the basement of the building, where he’d hidden his trunk of special items under a concealment charm as a jar of pickles. He walked outside, to the incinerator, and used the chimney in the back to Floo over to Ominis’ mansion.

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