Mr. Love Queen's Choice

Hypnotic

Fandom: Mr. Love Queen's Choice

Pairing: Lucien x Reader

Summary: Games played when Lucien commands  you to sleep

You don't remember. You can't recall the induction. You can't recall the snap of his fingers along with his command.

"Sleep."

You don't remember his words whispering in your ear, painting a whole new reality.

One where Lucien could be his true self.

You don't remember how you got here. Standing on this street. It's cold. You should've worn a jacket. You huff a warm breath into the biting night air. You watch the cloud dissipate, your brain desperately trying to come up with an explanation.

You see headlights turning onto this eerily, conveniently, deserted street. Tiny alarms start going off in your head. Your heart rate spikes. Adrenaline starts to rush. You chide yourself for the unnecessary paranoia.

You start to walk away from the vehicle. Chin up. Pace brisk. You pat your pockets for your phone but come up empty. Dammit.

You try to steady your breathing. Ball your hands into fists as the vehicle slows behind you. Your brisk pace turns into a casual jog. Shooting up a silent prayer to the star-filled sky.

The vehicle starts to speed ahead and you are utterly relieved. Your body relaxes as you slow down.

Too soon it seems.

The vehicle turns on a dime, slamming to a stop. As do you. You are stunned. Frozen. Unresponsive as he, a complete stranger in your freshly hypnotized mind, gets out of the vehicle.

He takes a few slow steps towards you. A trembling ball of fear. The devil's grin on his face reaches ear to ear. He cracks his neck to one side. Then the other. The signal that urges your brain to spur your legs into action.

You run. For your life, you run.

He gives chase, on your heels almost instantly. A cry escapes your lips. Your brain in a dizzying spiral down. Survival mode. That's where you're at.

Breathless you run. Hearing his pounding steps just behind you. You try to scream. Desperately you try to scream, but...you can't. For the life of you, no noise beyond that of a desperate cry slices through the thick air. Air too thick to gulp down. Air too thick to fill your lungs.

Your foot trips over the other and you go down. In an instant, you are back up, but it's too late. That's all it takes for him to claim his prey.

You.

You plead for help, as loud as you can. But he places his hand over your mouth, and your nose, and pushes.

Hard.

Your eyes gleam silver. Your body starts thrashing underneath his. But of course to no avail. Tears slide down your cheeks as you start to panic.

Your lungs start to scream for oxygen. He reads the desperation in your eyes and pounces on the opportunity presenting itself, "My, my, ______. You're in quite the predicament hm?" He laughs and entangles his other fist in your hair; yanking back.

He brings his lips to your ear, "I know. You need to breathe, don't you? Hm? Listen here, my queen. I fucking own you. Do you hear me? I am your fucking god. If I let go of your mouth, are you going to be a good girl and stay quiet?"

Your mind begs you to nod. Begs you to agree. But you can't. And he knows you can't. He knows how stubborn you are. He knows how much you'll fight.