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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 day

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Best Prom Ever 👗💞🪩

Chrissy asks Eddie to prom purely to piss off Jason, you're devastated but Eddie is so happy so you fake a smile and hide how you feel.

So much for the magical prom night you wished for, but not all hope is lost.

This is a fluffy, angsty fic but this is an 18+blog so mdni,

💌🎀

There's this crushing weight on your heart when Chrissy asks Eddie to the prom. It must feel like a dream for Eddie. So why does it feel like your heart is breaking into a million pieces?

It's meant to be just a typical boring Monday but now your whole world feels like it's been shaken.

Of course he says yes. Looks at you for a second before hand and you give him an encouraging smile, hide the way you feel like you can't breathe.

Chrissy was a sweetheart. She would be good for Eddie. You resolve to ignore the stabbing pain in your chest and plant a fake, happy smile on your face.

You knew the two of them had a budding friendship, but you never expected this. Eddie hated prom and everything it stood for and yet he was agreeing to go with Chrissy.

If you asked would he have gone with you? No, of course not. You slip away from their conversation, your ears are ringing and the deep ache in your chest is only getting worse.

You hurry to the bathroom and into a cubicle, lock the door and let out the tears you were struggling to keep at bay.

There was a small part of you that hoped Eddie would ask you to the prom. You could go together and make each other laugh, dance like idiots and be in your own little world.

The bubble was quickly burst seeing Chrissy ask Eddie. Of course he wouldn't say no. This was Chrissy you were talking about. She was the cheer captain and Hawkin High's princess.

Shakily you get up and head out to dry your tears, try to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest and put on a happy smile. For Eddie.

He has a smile on his face for the rest of the day and at lunch he's telling the rest of Hellfire Club what happened.

"I mean, Chrissy told me she asked me to prom to get back at Jason for being a douchebag but I can be a little bit excited right? This is Chrissy Cunningham, we're talking about" Eddie babbles on to you while you're eating lunch.

He's been talking about prom for the last ten minutes.

Jeff raises his eyebrows at Eddie. "Dude, what about the whole "Prom is just a bunch of bullshit, you'd never see me step one foot in conformist shit like that" Eddie pauses as he steals one of your fries then answers Jeff's question.

"Dude I still feel that way, however this is a chance to piss off Carver and I never want to miss an opportunity like that" he explains and you listen half heartedly.

This is why he was going? A revenge fantasy for him? The thought depresses you and you make a vow to yourself that you will enjoy prom night in a different way. Maybe you could stay at home, watch a bunch of horror movies or sappy, wholesome movies and binge on snacks.

That made you feel a little bit better. But there was still a small part of you that dreaded Friday night.

💌🎀

Eddie shows up at your house half an hour before prom. Well, he climbs up through your window like he always does and nearly ruins his outfit.

He looks gorgeous, he's paired his leather jacket with a black dress shirt and black jeans. He frowns as his eyes trail over you.

"Why aren't you dressed yet? Proms starting in half an hour"

"Oh, I'm not going to the dance" you shrug and Eddie gapes at you. His big brown eyes are wide and searching as you flop back down in your bed, already cosy in your comfiest nightwear and ready to binge watch your favourite movies.

"But..." You turn to him and fake a smile once again, fuck, you were getting pretty good at this.

"Go and have fun Eddie"

"It won't be the same without you princess" you feel a tug at your heart but shake your head. No. You were not giving yourself false hope that deep down Eddie had feelings for you.

"Don't be silly, you'll be with Chrissy, you'll have a great time" you assure him and he gives you a faint smile.

"But my best girl won't be there" fuck. Why did he have to say such sweet things, he's still lingering so you give him a gentle nudge to the door. He looks back at you one more time and then he's gone.

Your night of movies and binging in ice cream is interrupted by Steve. He comes into your room and is at your closet, pulling out the dress you bought for prom.

When you were secretly hoping maybe Eddie would ask you.

"Steve, what the hell are you doing?" He turns around with one hand on his hip and gives you that "Mom" stare he usually reserves for the kids.

"You're not holing up in your room feeling sorry for yourself and missing prom. I missed prom because I felt shitty about Nance and you were there for me. Now I'm returning the favor. Get dressed honey"

You're tempted but the thought of seeing Eddie with Chrissy hurts your heart all over again.

"I don't know if I can watch Eddie with Chrissy, having the time of their lives. I mean, of course I want him to have fun but do I have to see it?" Steve settles beside you and puts his arm around you.

"I'm going with you. Robin and Vickie too. Fuck Eddie Munson, you will go and have the time of your life with us, now get dressed" he orders.

"So bossy", you mutter but kiss his cheek before you take the dress into your bathroom and start getting ready .

💞💌🎀

Prom is boring. He kinda expected it but it's even worse now he's here. The music is shitty and while Chrissy is really a sweetheart, all he can think about is you.

Would prom be more fun if you were here? Absolutely yes. Jason is glaring daggers at him and that is barely giving him any satisfaction.

Chrissy is looking at him all sympathetic and that doesn't help his mood. "Is yn not coming?" She looks around for you and Eddie shakes his head glum.

"No, she's having a movie night instead" Chrissy bites her lip, looking shocked.

"It's prom. She can't miss prom" he shrugs the weight of your absence weighing heavy on him, he's so tempted to just ditch this shit and go and be with you.

Chrissy softens when she looks at him, "You're really not having a good time huh? I'm sorry, I thought at the time this would be a good idea, but you're missing your girl and well... I miss Jason" she murmurs softly and Eddie while he doesn't get how anyone could miss Carver, he does sympathise with her.

"I think I've ruined everything" he replies and the small bubble of panic inside of him grows bigger and bigger when he thinks about you on your own.

"Oh Eddie, I think you need to go and see her. You haven't ruined anything, she just doesn't know how you feel. Maybe because you realised at the last minute" Chrissy scolds him.

Doesn't realise how you feel... He goes over Chrissy's words several times before realising she's right.

He's head over heels. For you.

"Shit" Eddie yelps and ignores the way some of his classmates look their way. Chrissy still looks disappointed in him and that doesn't help either.

"Wait, why are you pissed at me?" He asks Chrissy confused, she looks at him like he's grown two heads and sighs.

"Eddie, you've left your best friend all alone while she's hurting and trying to put on a brave face because she doesn't realise that you like her back. She's been so nice to me so I'm pissed for her that it took you so long to get your head out of your ass"

Eddie winces and nods. Yup, he deserved that. Then his heart skips a beat as he repeats her words.

"You really think she feels the same?" Chrissy's glare softens and she nods. Oh fuck, yeah he had messed up.

"Oh wow" Chrissy gasps and he turns around to where she's staring at and there you are in a beautiful dress, looking ethereal and like an angel as you enter the room.

You were here after all. His heart is going a mile a minute but sinks as he sees you with Steve. Then it lightens when Robin and Vickie arrive at the same time.

Chrissy is looking at him expectantly and he swallows as he looks at you with Steve. He messed up. He should be the one making you smile like that.

"I think I'm too late. She's with Steve" he mutters and Chrissy shakes her head looking exasperated.

"Most likely as friends. Eddie I've never seen you be shy in your life so will you go and get the girl and stop being a wimp" he gapes at Chrissy's words then nods.

Yeah, he was Eddie the Brave. He could do this.

💞💞

Eddie walks over to you, he looks nervous which is rare for him. He's also staring at you in a way that makes you feel butterflies. Why wasn't he with Chrissy.

"You came" he sounds so relieved and this surprises you but he was your friend, of course he would want to see you at prom. It didn't mean anything else.

"Wait, why aren't you with Chrissy?" You ask him curiously and notice she's dancing with Jason.

"Yeah, it was a big mistake coming with her, huge. Should have taken my best girl instead of getting sucked into some dumb revenge scheme" wait...what?

"Eddie. This is Chrissy we are talking about, she's queen B and she's so sweet and kind and...' he cuts you off, his eyes softening as he gazes at you.

"She's not you" three words but there is so much meaning behind them. Oh. Well shit. Maybe there was hope after all.

"I was coming to see you. Prom isn't prom without my girl. I should have asked you because...because you're everything to me and I'm so in love with you"

Slow music begins to play, your classmates are chatting loudly, giggling but you can only focus on Eddie. "You do?" he nods and holds out his hand which you take.

"I love you too" you blurt out and he grins all dimples and happiness. Pulls you closer to him and the two of you sway to the music.

Eddie dances with you, has your hand in his and holds it over his heart. He leans down and kisses you. The whole world melts away in that moment and it's just the two of you, passionately kissing and lost in each other.

"Best prom ever" you whisper to him and lay your head on his chest. His fingers caress your hair and sway to the music with the guy you love.

🎀❤️

Take my breath away

My love, take my breath away

Take my breath away - Berlin

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x best friend reader #stranger things eddie munson

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masonreds · 1 day

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mason mount x reader

Summary: Y/N distances herself from Mason thinking that it would help her feelings.

word count: 3,7k words

notes: sorry if this is a bit too dramatic for you’re liking 👀 also take a shot for everytime y/n says sorry 😂😂 I’ve also not posted in a while so please leave feedback if you can, it will be appreciated 💞

This isn't how you expected tonight to go.

Here you were, in the bathroom locked away from the fun downsatairs, away from your own birthday party. You just couldn't handle it anymore.

You couldn't handle your feelings for him anymore. You hated being friends when deep down you know you knew what you wanted and the possibility of him turning you down, rejecting you just thinking about it made you an anxious mess.

You couldn't keep this up anymore. You wanted more.

The knocking on the bathroom door made you snap back into reality, and you already knew who it was without them even talking.

You just knew it was Mason.

The person who'd you been trying to avoid for the rest of the night.

'Last I checked, the afterparty hasn't been moved to the bathroom.'

'I'll just be a minute!' You say, trying to sound normal enough.

'What's wrong?' Apparently not.

'What do you mean? I'm just freshening up a bit.'

'What's bothering you?'

'i don't know what you mean,' you try to laugh it off , but the pressure in your chest becomes a little too tight and it comes out as a more gasping noise than a light chuckle. You clear your throat. 'i told you, I'll be out in a minute. It's getting late, everybody else has probably gone, you can go too. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?'

Mason just ignores what you said. 'You would've at least made five sarcastic comments in the last two minutes if everything was fine. You forget how i can read you like a book.' He pauses. 'And you certainly wouldn't be hiding away from your own birthday party for most of the night. Especially when you always refuse to let me leave without helping you clean up.'

Shit

'Mase, i told you, I'm -'

'Cut the bullshit, Y/N.' He told you sternly, before continuing, 'I watched you blow out the candles. I saw that look you made after you made your wish, and you looked up at me for a split second. And that look you had on your face, as if you were going to start crying right there and then. You masked it quickly, but I saw it. I’m not going to stand here and pretend I didn’t see it.’

‘I don’t know what you’re-’

‘Yes you do,’ he interjects. ‘Because right about an hour ago I’m handing you a drink and the next thing I know, I see your face crumple like that again. And-’ he takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘And it fucking broke my heart.’

You stood there, stunned.

‘So, are you going to tell me what I did wrong?’ He asks.

‘You didn’t do-’

‘Because you’re my best friend,’ he reminds you. ‘And I feel like I have a right to know what I did that made you make that face.’

There’s a beat of silence, and he says, in a lower tone than before. ‘Because I would do anything to make sure I never see it again. It breaks my heart seeing you like that.’

Stood still, your gaze is fixed at the door speed the two of you.

‘Y/N.’ He calls out, sounding more desperate than you ever thought him capable of being.

And that does it. The tears you’ve been desperately holding back through every conversation with him you had, not only tonight, but since the day you realised that you were in love with him. You’ve reached the point where there was no return, and the person you want to run to the most is also the one you couldn’t possible bare to see you in this state.

The stretch of silence following your name from his lips feels endless. You feel like you’ve been standing in front of the door, with your face painfully scrunched in a vain attempt to stop the tears from falling, for an eternity. That is until it’s broken by your shuddering gasp for air.

‘Y/N.’ He says again. Only this time his voice has shifted, even thought the distance hasn’t changed, you can feel his voice everywhere now. It has penetrated the walls and filled every corner of the room. You realise this is the first time he’s seen you cry.

Well, no. He still can’t see you.

He can only hear you, which means there’s still time to fix things going from bad to worse.

‘C’mon princess, don’t cry sweetheart,’ he beckons. ‘Please. Just come out and we’ll fix whatever’s happening. I swear.’

Those nicknames, which he sometimes throws around fondly and always makes your chest tighten in joy every time you hear them. It feels worse now. It feels torturous and cruel to hear him casually call you things you wished he truly meant.

And that only makes you cry harder.

Oh how you wish things were different, and how you wished you were destined to be with him.

‘I-I’m begging you,’ his voice sounds strained, and you feel guilty for putting him in such an uncomfortable situation.

‘I’m fine,’ you manage. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be okay in a sec.’

‘But you never cry,’ he says. Which was true, you never let him saw you raw emotions. You wanted him to think that you were fine and that you could handle it, until you couldn’t anymore.

‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper.

‘Stop apologising,’ he says firmly. ‘Now, can you please come out?’

‘I can’t.’

‘And why’s that?’

‘Because,’ you squeeze your eyes shut as more tears spill over. ‘You can’t see me like this. I don’t want it to change our friendship.’

‘Well what if I want it to?’ He counters.

‘What?!!’

‘What if I want it to affect our friendship?’ He sighs. ‘What if I want you to think you can come to me when you’re upset? Do you really think I’d push you away when you’re like this?’

You can’t get any words out. All you can do is let out a pathetic sob at the kindness of his words.

At my crying he stammers, ‘I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? I just meant-’

‘No!!’

‘No?’ He questions.

‘No,’ you can’t help but smile a little.

‘Well, look, I’m not going to force you to come out,’ he says. ‘If you truly want to be alone, I get that, and I’ll leave and you can come out whenever you’re ready.’

Good.

I think I can work with that - you thought.

‘But if the only reason you’re not coming out is because you’re afraid of how I’m going to react, then I’m the one who fucked up for making you think that you always need to be in a good mood around me,’ his voice softens. ‘I’ll leave you alone if you want, but please don’t try to push me away.’

Damn.

You almost left out a huff of laughter, because you know that no matter what you promised yourself, he always weakens your resolve. And it’s at this moment where you realise just how exhausted you are - how nearly two years of suppressing your feelings have been slowly eating away at you. And the weight of your misery becomes unbearable, and all you want is to leave the terrible ache in your chest behind.

More tears come running down your cheek, that you couldn’t seem to stop. You don’t bother wiping them away as you stare at yourself into the mirror. You see the hollowness of your eyes, the way you look pale in the dim bathroom light, and you know you can hardly handle the weight of your secret for much longer. Giving yourself an almost nod of understanding before reaching the door handle, unlocking the door and throwing common sense out of the window.

‘Princess?’ He asks. Your chest tightens at the sound of that stupid nickname again. It started off as a joke, Mason teasing you after you shared your love of fantasy books and fairy tales with him. And it stuck around, quickly becoming Mason’s favourite way to make you flustered while you always shoot him with an annoyed glare. You always told him you hated it, but after a while you began to carry it with a sense of pride. As much as it pained you to know he was only joking, it always made your heart contract in a way he was only capable of causing.

‘Promise me one thing?’ Your voice is unsteady from all the crying you’ve been doing.

‘Anything.’

‘Shut your eyes, will you?’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Not to brag or anything but I’m certain I’m one of the most ugliest criers out there. And I’m not sure if I can stand you see me like that,’ you do your best to joke. ‘Just for now, at least.’

‘You don’t realise how silly you sound, do you? But if that’s what makes you come out, then yeah sure.’ He says.

And with that, you pull the door handle down so you can open the door.

Mason’s perched at the very end of your bed, his hands resting on his lap. He’s facing you, and you’re relieved to see that his dud are still shut, as promised. You stand there for what feels like an endless amount of time, too stunned to move. But slowly, his hands move from his lap and palms his face up, beckoning you over.

It’s all the cue you need, and you step forward, placing your hands on his forearms, your grip is still shaky. Whilst his eyes are still closed, he engulfs you into a hug. You have hugged Mason plenty of times, more than you can count, but never with you crying into his arms. One hand rubs your back while the other gently caresses your hair, but the tenderness and kindness he’s showing only makes you cry harder.

‘Can I open my eyes?’ He murmurs. All you can manage is a quick nod against his chest. He tries to pull back from the hug so he can face you, but you figure that he cant see your tear stained face if it’s buried in his hoodie, so you remain firmly planted in the hug.

A few moments pass like this, both pressed impossibly close to each other and you can feel your heart rate begin to calm as your tears slowly subside. The exhaustion has saturated your body as you feel as though you can fall asleep on his chest before you heard him speak.

‘You’ll tell me what I did wrong, won’t you?’

‘I want to, but I can’t,’ you tell him.

‘Why?’ He doesn’t sound annoyed, his voice has a playful tone to it with a twinge of worry.

‘Because-’ you whisper. ‘Because you’ll hate me.’

‘Impossible,’ he says. ‘You’re one of my best friends, I don’t think I could hate you even if I wanted to.’

‘As much as I want to tell you why I gave you that look tonight,’ your voice is slightly muffled with your face buried in his hoodie. ‘I know it will ruin our friendship and I don’t think I can bare losing you.’

‘You’re not making any sense. I thought I was the one who upset you,’ he manages to pull away, untangling my arms from around his neck. He slowly rises from his perch, towering above me as he rests his hand on my shoulders. You can’t look at him though, so you lock your gaze onto the floor. ‘Seriously, Y/N, you know I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, but you’re starting to scare me.’ His confession makes your heart ache impossibly.

He brings his hand underneath your chin and slowly guides your face up to meet his. A few more tears escape your swollen eyelids, and he gently brushes them away. ‘I want to tell you,’ you avert your gaze, not being able to stand the intensity of his eyes on yours. ‘But I know how it’ll end. And I know you’ll resent me for it.’

‘Please don’t say that,’ he tries to meet your eyes. ‘There’s nothing that you could say to me right now that would make me even think about hating you, okay?’

‘But there is!’ You grip on to his forearms, relishing your closeness one last time. You know you’re going to be selfish you’ve ever been and ruin the most important thing in your life just to give yourself a moment of peace. ‘And I thought I was fine keeping it to myself, but I just can’t go on like this anymore.’

You stagger backwards, as you see the panicked look on his face. ‘I can’t eat or sleep,’ your fingers begin to nervously tangle themselves into your hair. ‘And I know you don’t deserve this, but I can feel myself going crazy and I know that I can’t keep this up.’

He slowly moves closer to you, his brow knotted in concern. ‘Keep what up?’

‘I can’t keep pretending that I’m not in love with you.’

There it is.

There’s no going back now.

He starts to say your name, but you cut him off quickly. ‘No, just let me finish,’ you bury your face in your hands, knowing damn well that you cannot possibly handle his reaction. You try your best to steady your breathing. ‘Because if I don’t do this now, it’ll just continue to eat away at me until I won’t even recognise myself.’

You take his silence as a cue to keep going. You remove your hands from your eyes but focus your attention on the floor. You eyes catch on a potted plant in the corner of the room by three window, and you keep your gaze focused on it as you utter your confession.

‘I thought it was just a little crush,’ your voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. ‘When we met a couple years ago. And then it was like one day I blinked and you and I had become best friends. I couldn’t remember a time when I was so happy.’

You’re crying now. You take another moment to gather your strength, and carry on, refusing to look up at him.

‘I thought us being friends would be enough, and for a while it was. I was fine loving you platonically, because I figured having you in my life as a friend would be better than not having you in my life at all. But my feelings never went away, they just continued to grow stronger and stronger and-’ you try to discreetly wipe your eyes. Your tears blurred your vision almost completely. ‘I knew you would never love me like I love you, because guys like you don’t date girls like me. The date models or influencers. The type of girl you brag to your friends about.’

‘I feel terrible because I’ve lied to you our entire friendship. I feel like this secret has just been festering inside of me and honestly I’ve been so miserable when I wake up everyday thinking this is it, this is the day you’ll find someone else and I’ll truly be nothing to you. But no matter how badly I try to protect myself from getting hurt in the end, I just can’t stay away from you.’ You let out a weak laugh.

You’re rambling now, you can feel it. You find it impossible to stop until he speaks. ‘What if I feel the same?’

You jerk your chin up to meet his eyes. He’s standing closer now, and you have to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact.

Your stubbornness got in the way. ‘No you don’t. You could never love me.’

It feels like time stops when he says, ‘who said that?’

You shake your head, and viciously swipe your hands under your eyes. ‘No, Mase. Don’t say things you don’t mean. I know we joke around a lot but I would never fuck around with your feelings like that.’ You can feel panic rising in your chest.

‘I’m-’ Mason tries to go on to say until you interrupt.

‘You don’t have to let me down gently.’

‘Please give me a chance to speak, will you?�� He grips your shoulders gently, placing his face close to yours. And then he goes on to saying something you would’ve never expected. ‘Could you just pump the breaks for a second so I can tell you that I’m in love with you too?’

You stood stunned for a while before you managed to come out with ‘what?’

‘You do realise that I’ve been crazy about you for years now, right? I just didn’t know where you stood so I never had the guts to ask you out,’ He lets out a breathy laugh and runs his hands through his hair. ‘Oh god if I had known that you liked me back even a little I would’ve said something! I–I just thought you never saw me like that,’ He trails off. He stops and turns to me suddenly. ‘Princess, I am so sorry. All this time you felt like you couldn’t be yourself around me, like you couldn’t just tell me how you felt.’

You’re still staring at him, dumbfounded. You’ve realized that you still haven’t stopped crying, much to your absolute humiliation. If what he’s saying is true, you think, then why on god’s green earth can’t you calm down? But at this point the panicked sobbing has taken a new shape, now strangely mixed with exhaustion, giddiness, and confusion. You attempt a smile, but you imagine it looks very off-putting, considering your emotional state.

His hand on your arm breaks you out of your thoughts. ‘Sorry,’ I furtively wipe your eyes. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me – I mean, I should be jumping up and down with joy, but,’ you release another shuddering breath. ‘I can’t seem to calm down.’

The look he gives you is one you’ve seen many times before, though you never knew how to describe it. Calling it a look of kindness or interest didn’t seem like it was enough to describe the depth of his stare, and it felt too far to call it a look of worry. Only now after these past few minutes have you understood what his gaze is implying. It was more than affection, it felt like love.

‘Hey,’ he murmurs. ‘It’s okay, you’ve been through quite a bit just now, baby.’

I laugh a little at that. ‘That’s a good way to sum it up.’

He smiles again, and your stomach does more than just flip, it somersaults and launches itself into a dive roll. And then he pulls you into his arms again, and though you can’t stop the tears leaving your eyes, you feel like you can at least control your breathing a bit more.

‘Now I know you have a tendency to overthink,’ he says after a moment or two. ‘But there can’t be any of that right now, alright? Don’t think about tomorrow or this new thing between us, alright?’

You pause, but relent with a small nod.

He continues. ‘I care about you like I always have, and my priority right now is to make sure you’re okay.’ His hand rubs reassuring circles on your back as he speaks. ‘It’s late now, and you must be exhausted after everything tonight.’

You let out a small hum of agreement. Now that he mentions it, you feel absolutely wiped out, and a dull pain has begun to take roots in your temples. Mason gently moves back, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear and taking in the sight of you in front of him. For what felt like the millionth time, you feel yourself becoming self-conscious. You know how red and swollen your face becomes after you’ve cried, and you’re willing to bet that the mascara running down your cheeks gives your features an added air of insanity.

‘How about you let me deal with some of the mess in the living room, while you wash your face and wind down a bit?’ he suggests.

‘Yeah,’ your breath still comes out a little shaky as you restate his commands. ‘No overthinking.’

He nods, satisfied with your answer. ‘And when I come back tomorrow, we’ll talk, and then you can let that brain of yours ask a hundred and one questions as it always does. But not until then,’ he finished with a smile.

You can feel your heart start to drop at his words

‘You’re not staying?’

The words are out before you can stop yourself. You know he doesn’t want you thinking about this new thing between us right now, but he has no idea how much overthinking you’ll do if he walks out that door. You know if he leaves, you’ll barely get a wink of sleep all night, wondering if our heated exchange was nothing more than a champagne-induced dream.

Mason looks at me with a smile. ‘Of course I can stay.’

‘Are you saying that because I asked, or because you actually want to?’ You shoot him an incredulous look

‘Let me tell you something, princess,’ he stares deeply into your eyes, refusing to let your gaze slip from his. ‘I’ve never, never left your side willingly.’

His words cause your breath to hitch and for your heart to constrict almost painfully, but you refrain from grabbing the skin over your chest, from making sure that your heart is, in fact, still beating.

‘I wanted you to know that you don’t owe me anything right now, and that we’re still – we’re still us,’ he says. ‘I didn’t want you to feel weird if I stayed the night, that’s all.’

You let out a soft breath. ‘Thank you, Mase,’ you whisper. ‘I trust you, you know that I do.’

‘Good,’ he replies. ‘That’s a relief because I honestly didn’t feel comfortable leaving my girl alone right now.’

You have to physically hold yourself back from grinning at his words. My girl. The thought of those two words, and all they could possibly imply, made me feel light-headed. All you can do is nod your head in agreement.

He gently brushes some hair behind your shoulders, giving you a soft grin. ‘So how about you get ready for bed, and I’ll grab a T-shirt from my car and put away the stuff in the living room. I’ll be back in a few minutes, alright?’

‘Okay, I think I can manage washing my face before I pass out,’ you say jokingly.

Mason chuckles as he walks out of the room. ‘That’s my girl.’

#mason mount x reader #mason mount one shot #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount #mason mount x oc #mason mount oneshot #mason mount fan fic #mason mount fics #mason mount fic #mason mount x you #mason mount x y/n #mason mount angst

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mxtantrights · 3 days

Note

Hello there, ‘tis I again! Soo happy you enjoyed the boxer!jason request!! I know, i love him too :)))

Today i bring forth another boxer!Jason ask, maybe you introduce him to your friends and they can’t see past the fact he kinda looks like a brute (even tho he’s such a big softie, i truly believe this man reads romeo and Juliet while waiting to get on the ring), and so at the end of the night he’s feeling insecure cause he could see how your friends looked at him and he starts wondering if they are right and you deserve someone who’s softer and more approachable. And obviously reader shows him just how amazing he is!!

Today i yearn for some good hurt/comfort, if you couldn’t tell lol

Hope you have fun writing this one!! Marvellous works 🩷🩷

Everything goes right before the two of you get there. Thats how Jason knows something is gonna go wrong at this hang out. You told him all week that if he felt like not going, you could cancel. But he didn't want it to seem like he was blowing your friends off. So he trudged through.

He trudged through and is sitting side by side with you in a booth. And three of your friends are crowded into the other side of it. They've had a couple of drinks before you came. You weren't really in the mood to play catch up so you stick to your one while Jason goes dry because he's driving.

They have conversations about the recent news, the latest gossip, and then they ask about your life. Particularly your life with Jason. You start gushing about him, as if he isn't there, and tell them about how you met and how he treats you.

"This guy? This six foot tall, three hundred pounded brick wall?" one of them asks.

You scoff, "How he looks has nothing to do with how he treats me."

"Yeah, but doesn't he-don't you box?" another one of them asks him.

Jason clears his throat and sits up straight. But you notice it. You notice how he is trying to make himself smaller. He did it at the very beginning of your relationship, to make you less scared. You talked to him about it when the two of you got closer, and you haven't seen him do it since. Until now.

"I'm a boxer, yes. But I don't bring any of that home with me." Jason answers.

"Isn't it hard though? When you're angry? I mean who's to say you won't-" the third friend starts.

Hell. This has to stop.

"Enough." you speak.

They all look at you, at a loss for words. While it's true the four of you grew up looking like people who were afraid to tell others no, and looked like doormats, you were far from that person. Those days are over.

"I'm not gonna let you speak to him like that. He has been nothing but kind and open with me, and not that it's any of your business, but he has never laid his hands on me, or raised his voice." you say.

Then you're getting up from the booth, holding your hand out for Jason. He looks between you and your friends and then he's getting up from his seat. He takes your hand in his.

"He's my boyfriend. I want him in my life and I wanna be a part of his. So either you get that or you get lost." You put finally.

You turn around and walk right out the door with Jason. Jason who hasn't said a word yet. Jason who is holding onto your hand in a way that tells you he's not completely paying attention.

When the two of you cross the threshold of the doors, you squeeze his hand.

"Baby?" you ask him.

Jason looks at you then. Like everything is coming back into focus for him. He has a sad smile on his face.

"I'm sorry." He says.

"Don't ever be sorry for being you. If my so called 'friends' couldn't see past what you look like and what you do for a living then they don't need to be my friends." you explain to him.

Jason shakes his head, "You've known them longer than me. It's not fair that-"

"Jason Todd, I am not willing to give you up. For anyone. Ever. You got that?"

Jason lets out a small sigh. "Okay."

You let go of his hand to hold out your arms. He pouts a bit before stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you completely. You nuzzle into him more.

"I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I hope you know that." you add on.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"I swear it." you answer.

a/n: thank you so so much for sending this in! <333 I love some good hurt/comfort too!! I hope you like it!!

#dc x reader #Jason todd x reader #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd blurb #dc blurbs #dc #Jason todd #boxer!jason

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genderlessdude92 · 24 hours

Text

PRECIOUS

SMALL LIL’ ANGST—>FLUFF FIC

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PAIRINGS: Alastor x Reader

SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!

WARNINGS: Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship dynamics (but they both love each other dw), Intense emotional distress, Language, Potential Triggers, Donestic conflict. (MAJOR FLUFF AT THE END THOUGH!!! ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!!!) They were a couple alive too if you don’t mind idk i suck at writing- USAGE OF Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT AHHH- Lmk if i missed anything :3

NOTICE: please don't steal/copy/translate my work. But thanks for liking it, though!! ^^

WORDS: 1.7k

Enjoy!!~

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“Alastor, are you serious?!” You yelled as Alastor started to walk away from you, mid conversation.

Alastor had just gotten into a big fight with Vox, luckily survived, though. The frustrating part is, he won’t even let you heal him. Or know what the battle was even about?!

Which made you really, really paranoid.

“Alastor, don’t walk away from me, that’s rude.” You caught up with him and began to match his pace and he walked to the halls of the hotel to lucifer knows where. “We need to talk about this.” You say firmly. “I’m going to find out one way or another.” You add, raising your voice slightly.

Alastor stopped walking and turned around to face you. He was looking down at you, which always made you feel so small. Even if he wasn’t actually looking at you, you could still feel it.

“Well, then.” His voice was calm, but a hint of annoyance was there. “Aren’t you just invested in my little public hiccup.”He crossed his arms, waiting for your response.

“Yes I am. And I think we should talk about it, instead of you getting defensive.” You looked him dead in the eye and kept talking. “And why you didn’t tell me.” Your voice went quieter again.

Alastor hid a chuckle, “I thought you would care more about me surviving, than knowing how many lives I took today.” He raised his eyebrow, mocking you. “Or maybe, I don’t want to share this kind of information with someone who will judge me for it.” He was now fully annoyed by you.

You stepped closer to him, trying to keep him from leaving again. “Alastor, please stop. I’m just trying to help. I don’t…” You trailed off nervously. “I don’t want us fighting.”

Alastor smirked at you, “Oh, don’t worry love. We aren’t fighting. Yet.” His tone was harsh and he leaned down to look you in the eyes. “But I will if you continue to harass me about this.”

You felt yourself start to panic, but tried your best to hide it. “I’m sorry Alastor, I just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as he interrupted you.

“No. Don’t ‘just’ anything. You know I hate that word.” He said with a cold smile. “Now leave me alone before I get upset with you.”

“…You know,” You began, standing in your place as Alastor walked away, “You should at least act like you care about my opinion, maybe act like a husband, as well.” You snapped back, but in a more calm, collected tone. (minus the shakiness in your voice.)

“That’s rich coming from you.” Alastor snapped back, turning around to face you again. “What did I ever do to deserve such a self-righteous wife?” He raised his voice a bit, but not enough for others to hear. “How dare you assume things about me without even asking. How dare you come here and make demands of me. How dare you try to control me.” He continued yelling, walking towards you. “You have no right to tell me what to do! I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“I’m not trying to control you. I’m just saying, maybe you could at least consider what I have to say sometimes…” You tried to say bravely, but failed at the end. You felt so small. So insignificant.

You felt like nothing.

Alastor was now right in front of you, towering above you. His height and stature were intimidating, but his voice was worse. It was rough and demanding, making you feel like you weren’t worth anything. “You are nothing, nothing compared to me.” He sneered. “I don’t give a damn about what you think. What you say. What you do. You’re just a pathetic little sinner who has no idea what real power feels like. You’re not worthy of my time. You’re not worthy of my attention. You’re not worthy of my love.” He spat out the last word like it tasted sour in his mouth.

His words were cutting through your heart, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You dashed away to the nearest staircase, needing to get to your office. Your only safe space.

***

It has been about a week now since the fight you and Alastor had.

It had also been a week since you came out of your office.

You didn’t really leave your office because, one, it had a fridge of food and other things. Two, you had a makeshift bed with the couch. And three, why would you even go out there?

Only problem is, you’ve cried everyday, and that made you feel like complete imp-shit.

You really wanted to see Alastor, but you knew it wouldn’t end well.

You also didn’t want to be around anyone else, either.

***

Alastor was a gentleman to all women who deserved so.

An example he would give you is Rosie. He’s a gentleman to her because she’s nice to him and has manners. She deserves it.

But, if he was near Velvette, he would call her cruel names and shred all her ‘designer masterpieces’.

But, now he was confused.

What happened with Y/N?

He had never fought like that with her before no, usually she would be next to him in bed right now.

He was starting to miss her.

…he needed to give her an apology.

But he knew he wasn’t good with words.

So, he brainstormed.

“I could probably give her a heart…” He thought, stepping out of bed and pondering for a moment, “…no, no….maybe…some flowers?…” he looked over to his bayou. “…Allergies.”

He slumped onto his armchair and looked around his room for any ideas at all.

“…maybe some candy? No.” He thought, “She doesn’t eat much sweets.”

He sat there for a while longer, thinking.

Then it hit him.

***

You heard footsteps outside your door, and immediately froze. You looked around your room for any escape route, and found none. You decided to sit back down on your couch, and began to wait for whoever was there to leave.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and a knock sounded out. “Y/N, open the door.” Alastor’s voice was stern and commanding. “I know you’re in there.” He added.

You opened the door slowly, and peeked out to see who it was.

“Hello, darling.” Alastor said with a warm smile. “Can I come in?”

You just stared at him, saying nothing

‘fuck’, he thought, ‘i caused this.”

“Y/N, I just want to apologize.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was wrong.”

“…you don’t mean that.” You replied, still not moving.

“I do mean it, darling. Please jsut…let me in.” Alastor said sincerely, taking a step forward.

You hesitated for a moment, then moved aside to let him in. He closed the door behind him and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or say next.

Then, your eyes wandered to the large picture album he was holding to his side.

“Alastor…what’s that?” You asked, taking a step back cautiously.

“…it’s our picture album.” He looked at you, remaining calm. “…from…when we were alive. You know, with all those crappy photos.” He smiled softly.

You looked up at him, “…I’m scared.”

Alastor knew exactly why, as well.

He sighed, “I promise…I will keep myself contained if i ever, ever lash out like that… ever again.” He claimed, tears building up in his eyes.

“What i said back there was not true at all. You are everything to me, you are worth so much, and most of all, I love you.” He dropped the book to the floor and held out his arms to hug you.

You didn’t move, “…I don’t want to be here…” You said, letting a tear fall.

He nodded, “That’s okay, dear, let’s go to our room, okay?” He reassured, picking the book back up and holding you tight to his waist as the shadows consumed you both, talking you to his room.

***

You and Alastor missed this.

Limbs tangled together in bed, holding each other close, breathing in each other’s scents, you wish you had this sooner.

Alastor flipped a page of the album, “Oh look,” He noticed, pointing his claws to the first picture in the album, “It’s our cat, oh, what was his name again?” He asked, looking at you.

You were still crying.

He took a deep breath, “Y/n,” he exhaled, “It’s okay, dear…please don’t think about it.”

You looked at him, “w-what?” you said, wiping your cheek.

He ran a claw through your hair, “Nothing.” He said, smiling softly.

You put your head on his shoulder, “Okay,” you mumbled into his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying his scent.

He stroked your hair, “Do you remember our wedding day?” He asked.

You shook your head, “…no, I don’t…it was too long ago…” you said, sniffling.

He kissed the top of your head, “That’s alright, sweetheart, we have plenty of time to talk about it.” He assured you, pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You felt safe in his arms. Safe and loved.

Alastor flipped the pages until he found the wedding pictures, “Oh, here we are. Look, see how my mother walked you through the aisle?” He rubbed the picture with his thumb, rethinking back the memory.

“…yeah…I remember now…” You snuggled closer into him, trying to control your ragged breathing.

“…just breathe daring.” He reminded you, “Look here, you see how much you’ve changed?” He laughed softly, flipping another page, “See here? Here you are at our anniversary dinner, you wore that beautiful dress that made your legs look amazing.” He blushed lightly, “I remember you told me I was the only one allowed to see it.”

You giggled, “…that was a joke, silly.” You said, opening your eyes and smiling up at him.

“Ah, yes, I know.” He smiled back,

“…You’re so precious to me, y’know that?” He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

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NOTES: Idk what i was thinking when i made this fic erm…! Idk I’ve been going thru some shit rn but I’ve gotta impress the community because the notes/likes/comments/reblogs on my posts aren’t doing to good rn!! Oh no!!! (that is a sign from my greedy ass) And i just started a multi-chapter fic so like idk why i’m typing this- support is appreciated. BAI!!![![![11!

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MASTERLIST LINK

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#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x wife reader #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you

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nina-ya · 2 days

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Hey! It's my birthday and I was wondering if you write for Shanks? If you do, could you do a Ways That Law Wordlessly Says "I Love You"? thanks

Ways That Shanks Wordlessly Says "I Love You"

A/N: HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO YOU NONNIE <3<3 I hope your birthday went well!! Luffy Zoro Sanji Law Kid Shanks Pairing: Shanks x reader CW: None. WC: 1.4k

Shanks had a talent for picking up on the smallest of details, especially when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you wanted, even before you had a chance to verbalize it. It was one of the many things that made being with him so special– his ability to read you like an open book.

One day, you two would be wandering through a market on a smaller island. The stalls are filled with various goods and trinkets, each one tempting you in their own way. You walked besides Shanks, taking in the atmosphere of the market.

As you passed a stall filled with jewelry, a particular piece caught your eye. The craftsmanship was absolutely perfect and you just couldn’t help but admire it. You did not say anything, however, and you moved on from the stall to browse the other vendors. Shanks, though, stayed behind for just a moment, seemingly engrossed in the jewelry himself. Later, the sun began to set, and the market started to close. Shanks led you two back to the ship, and as you were settling down in your cabin, he pulled out a box, handing it to you.

“Got you something,” Shanks said, holding the box out to you with a grin. “Thought you might like it.” You opened the box and found the very piece of jewelry that you’d been eyeing earlier. The piece glimmered against the light, painting soft reflections of the room's light against the walls. You were taken aback, surprised that Shanks had gotten the very thing that you had shown interest in.

“Shanks, you didn’t have to–” you began, but he interrupted your thoughts with a gentle laugh.

“I wanted to,” he replied. “I saw the way you were looking at that thing earlier, and I couldn’t resist. Besides, if you really feel bad, I can think of a few ways that you could pay me back.” He said with a playful wink at the last comment. You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, feeling lucky that you fell for someone as amazing as Shanks. He always had a way of making you feel special, spoiling you in the most thoughtful ways. You know Shanks loves you when he pays attention to all your wants and needs. - - -

It’s common for the crew to always seek out some sort of tavern when they make landfall. It’s a fun way to down booze while also getting to try the island's local cuisine. You sat at the bar, watching the red haired man on the other side of the bar as he chatted with the other crew members. He naturally stood out amongst the bunch, his voice projecting across the building. You could practically feel the charisma dripping from his words. It’s one of the reasons you fell for him.

Shanks approached you with a grin, ordering a round of drinks for everyone. He leaned against the counter, elbows propped up casually, turning to you. “Thirsty?” he asked, his voice projecting over the noise of the tavern.

You nodded, and he motioned for the bartender to bring some drinks over to you two. Shanks picked up the drinks and motioned for you to follow him. He led you to a table in the corner, the seats being somewhat secluded from the rest of the tavern. While the crew was busy celebrating, Shanks was more than happy to hang out with you away from the rest of them

He slid your drink over to you and tapped the two glasses with a satisfying clink that rang throughout the room. While the others in the crew were being rowdy and singing sea shanties, Shanks sat beside you, close enough that you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. He keeps you engaged in a conversation, pointing out small things around the tavern and telling you interesting places he wants to visit while you guys are visiting the island. He had a way of making everything sound exciting, even if they are the most mundane things.

He would laugh at your jokes, eyes sparkling with amusement, and he would slightly lean closer to you as the noise grew louder to make sure he did not miss a word you said. It was as if you two were in your own bubble. You know Shanks loves you when he values spending alone time with you. - - - Shanks’ lap is always the best seat in the house during all the parties you two found yourselves in. His arm seemed to always find itself wrapped firmly around you, holding you close. You held a mug of rum, sharing sips with him, because he’d much rather use his one arm to hold you and keep you securely against him. Even when he is telling stories or engaging in conversation with others, his grip never loosens and you often could feel his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

Tonight, the crew is gathered around a bonfire on the beach, the hot amber flames flickering, giving light to the celebration and filling the air with the sound of the occasional crackle and pop of the firewood. Shanks is right at home, reciting stories, full body boisterous laughter spilling from his lips. Even when his focus is not on you, you know that you are constantly lingering in his mind with the way he pulls you in just a little closer, whispering an inside joke that has you reeling over in laughter. As always you are the carrier of food and drinks, offering it to him every so often. As the party winds down, Shanks stands, helping you to your feet, his arm still attached to you. It’s as if the world would crumble if he let go. Even as he guides you back to your shared quarters and into your bed, he still cannot seem to let go of you. There is just something about being in Shanks’ embrace that makes you feel so safe and so loved. As you drift off to sleep every night with his strong embrace cradling you to his chest, you know he will be right beside you when you wake up. You know Shanks loves you when he never lets go.

#Nina Writes~✦#Nina Responds~✦#one piece #one piece x reader #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks #x reader

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haikyu-mp4 · 1 day

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Nice to look at

word count; 727 – f!reader, use of princess, suggestive

“I’m tired of this,” you announced to no one in particular and stomped your way over to Matsukawa Issei. He sat on top of a desk, one foot resting on the side of the chair where Hanamaki sat and talked to whoever sat behind him. With every step, you lost some of your previously gained confidence until you were standing right in front of him with your arms crossed and an unconvinced frown on your face as you asked him “Can I help you?”

“Depends, what are your services?”

If this was a cartoon, steam would be blowing from your ears. He was always like this with you, seeming to love riling you up. Luckily, you were annoyed enough to not get too flustered by it, but that didn’t help the smirk on his face. “Why are you always glaring at me?”

He barely raised an eyebrow at the accusation. “I’m not glaring at you.”

“Really? Because it sure feels like it-“

“I’m not glaring,” Mattsun said. Makki scoffed from beside you even though he was pretending to mind his own business.

“I heard you the firs-” you tried to say, but he interrupted you again.

“I’m staring.” You took in a sharp breath, suddenly very aware of both his friends and yours looking at you two.

“…why?”

He glanced at his friends, giving them a stern look as if telling them to mind their own business. Then he looked back at you. “Because I think you’re nice to look at.”

“Oh.” This time Mattsun fully raised an eyebrow, which made you feel smaller under his gaze. He got off the desk so he ended up standing much closer, looking down at you with those lazy eyes. “Thank you,” you mumbled.

“You’re welcome, princess.”

“Take a picture next time, yeah? Might last longer,” you said, as if that would have been so much better. Usually, this kind of behaviour from men disgusted you, but with Matsukawa? It was different… and he knew you liked it. He leaned closer, making sure no one else would hear his next words.

“The kind of pictures I’d like to take of you can't be taken in public,” he answered, and you could swear your knees weren’t this weak before. His eyes stared into yours and you stared back for a moment to try and catch your breath. Is it hot in here?

“Pervert,” you whispered. After that, you walked back to your friends with Mattsun staring at your back until he huffed and went back to the conversation he had with his friends. You were a bit stubborn, he liked that.

When classes ended for the day you were passing by his desk on your way to the door when he grabbed your arm, making you spin around to face him. You squinted at him suspiciously, shaking his arm off but still staying to hear him out. He leaned down beside your face and tilted his mouth towards your ear, which made his breath run over your neck.

“Does this mean I can take you out?” he asked, and you bit the inside of your lip as a chill ran down your spine. You looked around as if it was an intimate, more private moment that your classmates shouldn’t see, cheeks flaring pink.

“At no point in that conversation did I ever imply th-” you tried to answer, but he was so very fond of interrupting you today. He leaned back to look at you, and then his tongue ran over his lips like he was hungry. Your eyes shamefully followed it.

“You like coffee? Tea? I know a nice cat cafe.” he asked casually as if the foulest thoughts weren’t running through his mind when he looked at you. You simply had to break eye contact when your mind actually started telling you to give in. Let him treat you to something, what is there to lose?

“After your practice, come get me in the library,” you said like it was an order, still not meeting his eyes as you pulled your shoulders back and walked off. Your friends were staying at school to finish some homework anyway, might as well wait for him.

“See you, princess.” Mattsun’s eyes followed you out of the classroom, but this time the feeling of his eyes on your back made you feel powerful.

masterlist

/this was originally for Suna but then I was like wAit

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu x you #mattsun x reader #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x reader #seijoh #aoba johsai #seijoh 4

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literaila · 2 days

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When do you think in the family au that Gojo realized he was in love?

I live for your au btw, I’m patient and respectful, you should never feel pressured to update or post!!! But also I literally check every day to see if you graced us with more 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

satoru is sitting on the love seat in the common room, pouting.

okay, sure. he’s known for his ability to talk until the sun goes down, but honestly, he’s not that bad. really, he could talk forever, about whatever he wanted, to anyone.

but he was only explaining the mechanics of infinity. for… a half an hour, maybe.

his friends suck.

what could be more interesting than him? nanami’s recipe for onigiri?

still, when you walk over to him, flopping into the space next to him—which is occupying his foot, thank you—he brightens just a little bit.

is it so bad to want attention?

“you know,” you start, while satoru tries to dig his foot from under you. “if you actually listen to people when they talk, they’re usually more inclined to listen to you.”

“oh, is that how it works?” satoru grunts. “i had no idea.”

“clearly.”

“you listen to me, even though i’ve barely ever spoken to you.”

you raise a brow at him. “do you have amnesia? you sit outside my door on the weekends for hours until i let you in. i’ve heard you singing to yourself out there.”

“that’s not a conversation.”

you nudge him, a lax smile on your face. “being interesting also helps, if you want people to listen to you.”

“hey, i’m interesting!”

“mm…” you nod your head, looking away subtly. “for sure, satoru.”

“you’re supposed to be my friend, you know? friends don’t bully each other.”

you look back at him, tilting your head. “that must be why you don’t have any.”

at that, satoru’s lip twitches a little. but it’s not because he finds you amusing, no. it’s just that… sometimes you look at him and he—

it doesn’t matter.

“did you come over here just to torment me?” he pouts, arms still crossed. but his eyes are much more active now, his face trying to be a sly thing that it isn’t.

“no, you just looked a little lonely.”

“awww,” satoru leans down so you can see his eyelashes fluttering at you. “were you worried about me?”

“i could just already hear the complaining,” you retort, rolling your eyes again.

“are you psychic, too?”

“yup,” you pop, grabbing something from behind your back. “which is why i also brought you this.”

you hand him a blueberry ramune, which just so happens to be his favorite.

satoru gasps like a child being given their favorite toy, taking it from you immediately. he opens it, and then pauses. “wait… what’d you do to this?”

you scoff. “geez, satoru. do you get poisoned often?”

“i have many enemies.”

“oh, right. i forgot. you’re well hated.”

satoru smirks, leaning almost over you. “not by you, though. you like me.”

you push him away with a finger. “you just looked pale. like, even more pale than usual.”

“that’s rude.”

“drink up,” you tell him, but only as you try to grab it from him. satoru relishes the feeling of you leaning over him. “we wouldn’t want you to go thirsty,” you say, but with a sickly sweetness.

“this is not making me feel any less threatened.”

you laugh, sitting back.

“you even got my favorite one, too.”

“that’s just a coincidence. though, you would like the worst flavor.”

“this is nearing harassment,” satoru says. “if you’re stalking me, i’m going to have to tell yaga.”

this time when you laugh, you snort, and you lean over again, but only to clutch your stomach.

satoru smiles along with you, and he feels… almost alive. more than a vessel of power, for just a moment.

and yeah, maybe it’s not just attention that satoru likes.

maybe it’s you.

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #a typical family

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controld3vil · 2 days

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chaotic duo

pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.

notes: absolutely no shade to jessica ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T

It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.

After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.

"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.

"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.

It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"

"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.

Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.

Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."

"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.

"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.

Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.

"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.

"A bit yes..."

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.

"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."

"Quite a prominent beard!"

"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.

"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.

"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.

You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.

"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.

"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.

"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."

The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."

On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."

It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."

A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."

"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.

"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.

Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"

"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.

He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.

"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.

Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.

His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.

A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"

The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.

"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.

Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.

A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.

"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.

The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.

"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.

"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.

The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."

Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.

"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."

"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."

A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.

The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.

"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.

"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.

"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.

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umitsy · 3 days

Text

Yandere college nerd pt. 2

warnings: kidnapped reader, stalking

reader's g/n

"It does not matter to me if you see this as cruel, you deserve every truth".

It was the last thing you heard him say after he subtly snuck up behind you to put a damped cloth on your nose and mouth, its contents making you faint quickly.

After waking up, squinting your eyes through the dark to try to recognize your surroundings, you felt something tough was kepting your hands and legs from getting off of the bed.

There was no window, no sound coming from anywhere, until you heard a door being unlocked and footsteps rushing to your side.

"Y/N you're finally awake! Hi! It's me, Claude, you knew it was me, right? Definitely! How could you not—Why are you shaking?". He rambled, you could feel his hands carressing desperately your arms and it was giving you chills.

"I-I-Claude, where are we?". You mustered up, your shaky voice giving out how scared you were and the thought of being the responsible of this reaction made him chuckle.

"Oh sweetie, don't worry about that, better start remembering all that knowledge you keep on that pretty head of yours". After feeling his finger touch your forehead, he got up from the mattress to flicker the lights of the room on.

It seemed cozy, but maybe a little too cozy to your liking. It was small, it certainly had things you mentioned enjoying in some conversations with him, but there were even things you thought you'd never see again on your life.

From some pencils and stationery items on the wooden desk at the other side of the room, to clothes you noticed had gone missing for the last weeks hanging nicely from the open closet.

And then again, the cause of all this fear making your shocked self start tearing up, watching photos of you everywhere, came to your side and whispered to your ear;

"Don't you like it, my first and unique student?". Claude said intentionally making you putty on his hands, starting to discard gently but skillfuly the restraints as you were so scared to run away, he'll be your knight in shining armor and comfort you.

"Please know I did it for your and our good, this society is so corrupted they don't even know what's true anymore. But us, us, my dove, we'll get to fly together into the depths of everything we have to know, together".

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charmandabear · 3 days

Text

Office Hours - Chapter Ten

Summary:

It's bowling time! You and the gang get a little closer over this highly unsexy game. Definitely no sexy things will happen in this chapter. No, don't look at the tags. Stop, what are you doing.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.3k

Tags/Warnings: thigh riding, dry humping, rough kisses, fantasies of bondage, cumming in pants, vampire bites/blood drinking, conversations about academic research, semi-public semi-sex

So I didn't actually mean to wait a week and a half between posting chapter 10 on AO3 and posting it here, but as a result, I can tell you that the un-beta'd chapter 11 is now up on my Kofi! You can read it for free, or you can wait until it's fully edited on AO3. Up to you, guy.

As always, @zipzoomzaria is responsible for the devastatingly handsome professor in the banner.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

Admittedly, you kind of delight in the look on Astarion’s face as you cross the threshold into the bowling alley. His nose wrinkles while his eyes dart around the space, cataloging everything from the stained black and neon rainbow carpet, to the bored employee sitting in front of rows and rows of dirty rental shoes, to the group of noisy teengers eating nachos covered with a thick liquid cheese.

He lets out a low growl and you giggle, almost giddy at the evening ahead of you. There is absolutely no chance in hell you’ll be able to do anything even remotely sexual in this environment. You grab his hand and drag him over to the shoe rental.

“Hi, can I get a 7 ½?” you ask the employee, and they languidly pull their chin off their hand and turn around to grab the shoes. Astarion hovers behind you, still uncomfortably taking everything in. You take the shoes from the employee and drop them in front of you, stepping out of your flats and into the bowling shoes.

“Ugh, gods, I don't know why you insist on taking part in this,” he says with a sneer, well within earshot of the employee, whose eyes have already started to glaze back over. “It’s not enough to put your fingers into a grease-coated ball, you choose to play dress up with a hundred other people’s feet?”

“I mean I wouldn’t choose to, I just have to if I want to actually do the bowling part of it,” you tell him as you wiggle your ankle to get the shoe to settle.

“Sorry, what?”

You had been waiting for this moment and you try to hide your glee as you say, “Yeah, you have to rent special shoes so you don’t fuck up the floor.”

His face remains frozen for a moment in a look of utter disgust as he processes what you said. “So you’re telling me,” he drawls, waving his finger like a disgruntled valley girl, “that in order to play this asinine game that you’re making me play, I must pay money to let my feet bask in the foot sweat residue of several hundred strangers?”

“You also have to leave your shoes with them while they’re rented,” you add, handing your flats over to the employee, who slips them in the cubby whence they retrieved your rental shoes. Astarion splutters incoherently.

“That’s it, you’ve lost me, this was a very cute idea but I am absolut–” You grab his hand as he starts storming away and pull him back towards the rental counter.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun, I promise!” You grasp his hand in both of yours, an exaggerated gesture of a pleading child. “Just do it for me, please?”

He scowls at your beaming face for a moment before rolling his eyes and approaching the counter again.

“I’ll take a 9 ½,” he grumbles through gritted teeth. The employee continues to display an almost impressive amount of apathy as they grab the requested size. Astarion makes a show of his disgust as he takes off his patent leather oxfords and puts on the grubby shoes that were presumably red and blue at one point.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” he mutters out of the side of his mouth and your grin widens.

“You absolutely will not,” you tease. He stands suddenly, closer than you had realized, and looms over you.

“Would you like to test that theory?” he hums in a low voice, and your breath catches in your throat. He turns away from your reddening face with a smug sense of satisfaction as he hands his shoes to the employee. He starts to walk away when their voice interrupts him.

“Sir, you need to pay for those,” they call out halfheartedly. He turns around to you, just staring back innocently.

“Oh, I’m paying,” he confirms blankly, and you shrug.

“You’re the one with tenure, you make more than me,” you state matter-of-factly. He scowls again but doesn’t protest, and instead just taps his phone on the pin pad.

You scan the lanes to see if you can spot any of your friends. Gale sees you and waves you over to where he and Wyll are sitting together stiffly. Shadowheart and Karlach aren’t here yet.

“Hello, there,” he calls, grateful to see faces he recognizes. A paper boat of fries sits on the table between them, along with two plastic cups of water.

“Any word from Karlach?” you ask Wyll, leaning over the hard plastic bench to grab a fry.

“She apologized, she said they’d be here soon,” he replies, glancing at the text from her.

“Took them longer to get ready than they expected,” you say with a grin, and Wyll clears his throat, cheeks darkening slightly.

“Oh Tav, have you caught up with If Books?” Gale asks you, taking off his glasses to clean them with his knit sweater vest.

“Yes, I couldn’t stop listening to it,” you reply enthusiastically, “some episodes have been very illuminating.” You cast a quick glance at Astarion and he petulantly shoves his hands into his pockets and shuffles his feet. “But it’s so hard waiting for each new one,” you add, and Gale nods.

“Yes, and they’ve switched from a bimonthly schedule to a monthly schedule, so the wait is even longer,” he agrees.

“What’s up, fuckers?” Karlach’s voice booms across the lanes and Astarion mutters, “Oh thank the gods,” under his breath. Shadowheart and Karlach saunter over, Karlach double fisting pitchers of a pale amber beer. She puts them down onto the table, only one of them sloshing beer over the edge. Shadowheart narrows her eyes at Astarion, sizing him up.

“Shade, this is Astarion, Astarion, this is my best friend Shadowheart,” you awkwardly introduce them to try to cut the tension as early as possible.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Shadowheart says with disdain, looking down her nose at Astarion. “I’ve heard plenty about you.”

“Only the best, I’m sure,” he lobs back. “Funny, I don’t think she’s mentioned you.” You shoot Astarion a dirty look as Shadowheart’s eyebrows disappear into her bangs. You can tell that she’s unaccustomed to sparring with someone who has as much snark as her, but the verdict is still out on whether or not it’s a good thing.

Oblivious to the heated standoff behind her, Karlach types away at the console, putting in slightly wrong initials for everyone and giggling maniacally as she does. In order, the names say ASS, TAV, CAR, SAD, GIL, and WIL.

“Soldier over here’s lucky, her name is already three letters,” she laughs and winks at you. Astarion fiddles with the roll of his sleeve and looks at the ball return with apprehension.

“I suppose my ‘ass’ is first?” He hits Karlach with the look over the glasses and she throws her head back, cackling like a hyena.

“Good on ya, Cardigan, there’s a sense of humor under that mop after all.” She kicks the toe of her red and white shoe at him from where she’s sitting, but he dodges out of the way. He walks up to the ball return and shudders before he decides on one, visibly gagging as he picks it up.

“Okay you drama queen, we get it, it’s gross,” you laugh at him, “now just knock as many pins down as you can, okay?”

“That much would seem obvious,” he smirks, and walks up to the edge of the lane. He glances back at you one last time, almost as if he’s assessing if you’re really worth the humiliation, before throwing the ball down the lane. It glides towards the pins in a smooth straight line before crashing into their pyramid, knocking over all but one. He stares at the lone pin in shock as you and Karlach whoop at him.

“Hey, you might actually be good at this game after all!” you shout as he walks back to the bench, looking just a little more pleased with himself. He’s about to sit down when you stop him, saying, “No, you get two frames.” He looks back down at the end of the lane just in time to see the mechanical arm sweep away the fallen pins and leave the remaining one standing. He makes a dramatic show of sighing heavily and picks up the ball again. He approaches the lane, calculates the pathing, and throws the ball. It knocks down the last pin.

“Okay Ancunín, comin’ in hot with the spare!” Karlach laughs and he puffs his chest slightly at the compliment. “I think you might need a better nickname than Cardigan.”

“Gods please, I’ll take anything,” he begs, and you stand up to grab a ball.

“Perhaps Dr. Bowling?” Wyll pipes up, and Gale adds, “A doctorate in Bowling Studies with a concentration in spares and strikes?” Astarion’s scowl is icy, but even you can tell he’s having fun.

“I’ve spoken too quickly,” he says, gritting his teeth.

You find that the six of you get along quite well. The conversation is easy and light as you cycle through your turns, laughs flowing between you as freely as the terrible watery beer.

You take a gulp from your plastic cup, your legs draped over Astarion’s lap as Gale takes his turn. Astarion scoffs at the smell.

“Nine hells, how can you possibly drink that piss?” He turns his face away from the yellowish liquid.

“I don’t know, I have low standards for myself?” you answer with a shrug.

Shadowheart lets out a high pitch giggle. “Clearly, considering you’re dating him,” she snickers, and Astarion fixes her with a playfully snide look.

“Big talk coming from someone who needs aloe vera after a romantic evening,” he retorts with pursed lips. Shadowheart tries to suppress a smile – talking shit is her love language.

“At least she and I agree to it prior,” she says coolly, and Astarion goes even paler than usual. He shoots you a nervous glance, a sort of are we allowed to joke about that? But you laugh and take another sip of your beer, surreptitiously rubbing the back of his hand resting on your knee in assurance.

You’re enjoying watching Shadowheart and Karlach navigate the awkward early stages of the relationship. Shadowheart has her hands clasped around her knee, bent in front of her as her foot rests on the plastic bench. Karlach’s arm is draped across the back of the bench, leaving enough plausible deniability as to whether or not her arm is actually around Shadowheart. You suspect by the end of the evening, it’ll be less ambiguous.

“So tell me, Gale,” Wyll asks as Gale waits by the ball return. “I’ve never met a wizard with a PhD, what was your research in?”

“I’m so glad you asked, because I think you in particular would find use of it,” he responds enthusiastically. “It was in ethical uses of high powered spells. There’s a stigma around mortals chasing too much power, but I feel very strongly that some spells simply have no downside.”

Astarion quirks an eyebrow, his hand absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for someone who’s power hungry, Dekarios,” he says with a smirk, and Gale emphatically shakes his head.

“No, the power isn’t for me, it’s for– well, hold on.” He quickly grabs his ball from the return and throws it down the lane. It hits the gutter within seconds.

“Too bad!” Karlach calls, her arm slipping ever so slightly around Shadowheart’s shoulders a bit more.

“It’s fine. Anyway.” Gale is quick to return to the benches, excited to talk about his research. “I strongly feel that Globe of Invulnerability, Heal, and Heroes’ Feast simply have no downside. We should implement systems in which they can be used for the greater good.”

“Fascinating. Do doctors not already use Heal in hospitals?” Wyll muses, then turns to Shadowheart as he stands to take his turn. “Shadowheart, you’re a cleric of Selûne, you must use Heal all the time.”

Shadowheart shakes her head. “We’re not permitted to use anything more powerful than Mass Cure Wounds, and even then it’s only in the most dire situations, like war zones. I don’t even know how to perform it.”

“See, this is precisely what I’m saying! Imagine all the good that we could do if there were more medical professionals who knew Mass Cure Wounds and Heal.” Gale gesticulates wildly with his almost empty cup of beer.

“Heroes’ Feast could end world hunger in a matter of minutes!” Wyll nearly shouts from the lane right before he bowls his second frame, almost as excited as Gale.

“Yes!” Gale returns the excitement and then downs the last sip of his beer. “In fact, I think many of these high level spells are outlawed in some countries without even considering how they might impact our society.”

“Hey Ass, you’re up,” Wyll calls, heading back to the bench.

“Darling, could you move your legs?” he asks you, his tone saccharine. You make a show of deliberating, holding your finger to your chin.

“Hmmm, I’m not sure. Wyll, who’s winning right now?” you call out to him and he speaks through the fry in his mouth.

“Ashtarion,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, I don’t think I will move,” you smirk obstinately, pushing your calves down into his lap. He raises his eyebrows at your challenge, peering at you over his glasses. He grabs your ankles and sharply turns you in your seat, his rough handling sending a subtle jolt through your core.

“Don’t pick a fight you can’t win, love,” he hums, his lips barely brushing against yours. He stands and turns towards the lane, leaving you slightly breathless. Karlach and Shadowheart titter at your dazed expression, the distance between them having all but disappeared.

Astarion gets yet another strike, and you briefly wonder how this English academic got so dexterous before remembering the feel of his long smooth fingers working inside you. You blink several times to banish the needlessly dirty thought as he turns around with an insufferably pompous look on his face, his newly discovered talent feeding his already overinflated ego. You try to play it cool as you stand and walk toward the ball return, but he blocks your body with his. You look up at him and he runs his knuckle up the front of your throat, stopping it right under your chin.

“Don’t choke,” he purrs and you press your lips together tightly to prevent an embarrassing noise from escaping. You shake your hair over your ears to cover how red they’ve become, but you’re certain your cheeks still give you away. You grab a ball and throw it down the lane, hardly aware of how many pins it knocks down. You stare into the ball return with glazed eyes as you watch your pink ball slide out of its mouth. You grab it, barely registering the shouts of encouragement from the others, and throw it down the lane as quickly as you can. You turn around before seeing the outcome of the frame, your mind occupied by one solitary thought.

“Excuse me, I’m going to run to the restroom,” you mumble, wrapping around behind the plastic benches as Karlach stands to take her turn. As discreetly as possible, you run your fingers across Astarion’s shoulders as you pass behind him. If you’re lucky, he’ll get the hint. If not… well, you need to take a breather anyway.

You duck into the hallway branching off the main lanes and settle yourself behind an ancient payphone. You have no idea if it’s meant to be kitschy and retro or simply a relic of a bygone era. You take a deep breath as you try to clear your head.

It didn't take long for Astarion to swing around the corner, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you up against the wood-paneled wall. His lips are hard on yours and his fingers tangle in your hair – a roughness you’re all too happy to accept. You grasp at his lower waist, pulling his body further into yours. Your lips pop open as a small moan escapes when his knee slides up between your legs, pressing against your already aching mound.

“I thought this was meant to dampen our appetites,” he murmurs through breathless kisses. You clutch the back of his head as you grind down wantonly on his thigh.

“It’s not my fault you get fucking hot when you’re competitive, ah–” you swallow the moan as he slides his chilled hands up the back of your shirt, pressing into the dip just above your ass.

“I take it you like seeing me win?” You can feel his lips smiling against your earlobe, and you let out a small squeak when he gives it a gentle nip.

“I like seeing you cocky,” you groan, desperately chasing the friction that his thigh provides. He chuckles and pushes his leg up further into you, causing you to grunt through your teeth and pull on his hair as you try to keep the obscene noises that he’s tearing from you under control.

“Tell me how else you like me,” he rasps, and you can feel his erection pressing against your thigh.

“I like it when you’re domineering,” your voice cracks as you continue to roll your hips against him. “I like when you tell me what to do. I like it when you’re just a little mean but even more when you tell me I’m a good girl.”

His hips buck against you and you shift on top of his leg, trying to relieve your own throbbing cunt while rubbing your leg against the bulge in his pants. His lips are still on your ear and he lets out a hissing breath when you lightly brush against his cock.

“You are my good girl, don’t stop.” His breath is cool against your skin and he runs the tip of his tongue along the shell of your ear, pulling a deep shudder from you. You can already feel how wet he’s made you, and if he keeps this up you might just come undone.

“I want you to put your hand around my throat when you fuck me,” you whine, your slick folds sliding against each other as he grinds his thigh into you. “I want you to put me in a collar and hold the leash tight and tell me I’m yours.” The fantasy is pouring out of you at this point. You’re hardly aware of your surroundings, all that matters is you and Astarion.

You can tell your words are affecting him, too. The rutting of his hips grow frantic and you tighten your hand in his hair and you can feel that familiar spiraling heat blooming out from your core.

“Gods, Astarion, I’m–” you mewl, fully riding his leg at this point. “Please bite me, I want you to bite me, I’m begging–” The moment his fangs sink into your flesh you come, your hand pressed tight over your mouth to muffle the sound, your hips stuttering with each rippling wave of pleasure. As he takes long dragging sips of your blood he makes barely audible whimpers into your neck, his hips still thrusting into your thigh. You bring your hands to his ear, gently pinching his velvety lobe between your fingers.

“Fuck, come for me Astarion,” you whisper into his hair, and it’s enough. He inhales sharply through his nose, teeth still latched onto your neck, and the rest of him stills, save a few subtle jerks of his hips as he spills inside his pants. You let out a breathy chuckle as you card your fingers through his hair affectionately. He pulls away from your neck and you’re blessed with one of your favorite sights – his lips slightly bloody, his eyes wild and frenzied, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You kiss him, lapping up the metallic droplets from his lips, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

“I do so love it when you do that, you know,” he sighs, and you stifle a giggle.

“Make you come in your pants?” you tease.

“No– well, yes, I mean– I mean no!” he stammers, uncharacteristically flustered, and you hum with approval. “No, when you kiss me just after I’ve fed on you. It makes me feel… closer to you, I suppose.”

“Plus I bet it’s, like, really sexy,” you joke, skating over his sincerity, afraid of what you might accidentally say in response. You’re so not ready to write a check that you can’t cash.

“Yes, it is,” he murmurs and kisses you again, unphased by your deflection.

As though an impenetrable barrier had been lifted, someone rounds the corner to head to the bathroom and the two of you straighten up like you didn’t just dry hump like a couple of horny teenagers. You try to tidy your appearances, but there’s no accounting for the noticeable stain on the front of Astarion’s pants. He pinches the bridge of his nose, his glasses sliding up onto his forehead.

“I can’t believe you… ugh. I can’t be seen by the others like this.” He sighs deeply, the consequences of both of your actions finally catching up to him. You bite your lip guiltily, then suddenly gasp, recalling the machine you’ve seen in hundreds of restrooms throughout your life but never had any use for.

“Do you have a quarter?” you ask him frantically, and he stares at you, completely flummoxed.

“No, who carries cash anymore? What, why do–” You’re gone before he can finish his sentence, dashing around the corner to find Shadowheart. Karlach sees you first, and her face lights up as she waves her whole arm at you.

“Hey, we were just about to send out a search party,” she laughs as you round the corner of the benches.

“Itoldthemnotto,” Gale adds quickly, and you appreciate that he learned his lesson from last time. Shadowheart strides up to you and grabs your chin, pulling it to the side to expose your neck.

“Ugh, Tav, you shouldn’t drive when you’re like this,” she groans. “Te absolvo.” She flicks your forehead as she casts the spell and you flinch before a sheepish grin slides onto your face.

“Hey, where’s Astarion?” Karlach asks, making like she’s going to head towards the bathrooms to look for him. You grab her arm before she can get too far.

“No no, don’t worry about that,” you speak frenetically, “Does anyone have a quarter?”

“Who even carries cash anymore?” Karlach asks with a bemused face, but Shadowheart glowers at you.

“Why, what do you need it for?” she asks through gritted teeth.

“Don’t worry about it,” you mumble, and she rolls her eyes. She grabs her purse and pulls out a sleek black leather wallet embossed with a crescent moon. “I only have ones,” she says, and you yank the bill out of her hand.

“That’s fine thanks love you be right back.” You take off with her dollar and make a beeline for the change machine near the arcade. After several attempts to flatten the bill enough for the machine to accept it, you hear four clangs as the quarters drop into the metal tray. You quickly scoop them out and run back to the hallway outside the bathrooms where poor Astarion is pretending to talk on the payphone.

“Where in the sweet hells did you go?” he hisses, and you finally get a good look at his appearance. His hair is still slightly disheveled, and he’s untucked his shirt to let it hang over the wet spot on the front of his trousers. You don’t answer him, but rather grab his wrist and duck into the women’s restroom that is, thankfully, empty.

You turn to the metal machine hanging off the wall that dispenses three invaluable items for a bowling alley bathroom: tampons, condoms, and scrolls of prestidigitation. You drop a quarter into the slot above the third item, crank the knob, and out falls a tightly rolled scroll.

“They’re usually for mothers to clean up after they’re done changing their baby’s diaper,” you say, nodding your head towards the plastic baby changing station. “But clearly they have other uses. Infame.” You recite the spell’s incantation and the scroll vanishes along with the stain on Astarion’s pants. He lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thank the Gods.” He unbuckles his belt and begins to tuck his shirt back into his pants. “You owe me,” he adds wryly.

“Um excuse me, who just traipsed all over just to hunt down a goddamn quarter so you could clean up after yourself?” you pout and he slides his hands around your waist.

“But who’s responsible for getting me into this mess in the first place?” he hums in a low voice, brushing his lips against yours. You’re about to melt into his kiss when suddenly the door to the restroom opens and a bewildered looking halfling walks in. You and Astarion spring apart and he quickly redoes his belt buckle. You embarrassedly shuffle out the door without a word.

The two of you reemerge to see all of your friends waiting impatiently by the shoe rental. Your and Astarion’s shoes have already been removed from their cubbies and the employee is just waiting for you to return the bowling shoes. The two of you jog over, and Shadowheart rolls her eyes as you approach.

“Fucking degenerates,” she mutters under her breath, grabbing Karlach’s hand and storming out the door.

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zahri-melitor · 1 day

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“It was only six feet,” muttered Dick.

“What did you just say?”

Dick sighed and rubbed his face. “I know you woke up in a grave and it was very traumatic for you, but you’re acting like this is the only time it had ever happened to anyone. You just had to dig straight up. Do you hear me complaining about it?”

"I'm sorry, did my ongoing trauma from being beaten to death and then waking up in a confined box make you feel uncomfortable, Dick?"

"You just keep going on about it like you're the only person who has ever experienced this. It sucks. No question. But getting out for you was basically on easy mode."

"It tore my fingernails off. I almost SUFFOCATED."

"That is part of being in a coffin, yes Jason."

“What are you talking about?” Tim walked into the room, towelling his hair dry from his shower.

“Being buried alive.”

“Digging myself out of my own grave.” Jason and Dick answered simultaneously.

“Well which is it?”

Jason glared at Dick. “Digging myself out. Dick here thinks that I’m blowing things out of proportion by being slightly upset about that building partly collapsing on me tonight.”

“Well, that is a conversation I can’t contribute to, so I’ll leave you both to it and go to bed.” Tim dropped the towel in a laundry basket and started to walk away.

“Tim,” Dick reached out to catch his arm. "What do you mean, which one?"

Tim shrugged a shoulder. "Well the only insights I have about being buried alive are 'sit tight and wait for rescue and slow your heartrate so you're not using so much oxygen' so I don't really think I need to be here. Good night."

"When have you ever needed that? And if you did, you didn't try to dig yourself out?" Jason said skeptically. "That's your view? Stay in one spot and wait for help? Because trying that in Ethopia worked so well for me."

"I was under a concrete slab. There wasn't much that I could do."

Dick tugged Tim around to face him more fully. "And when was this exactly? I don't remember that case report."

"It was during AzBats; that's why you haven't read it. And I was fine. Steph eventually got me out."

They stared at each other. Dick looked away first. "I wish you'd had more support back then."

Tim smiled, one side of his face quirking up. "You had your own problems."

"Wait a minute. Back up. When was this?" Jason interrupted.

Dick looked back at Tim. Tim rolled his eyes up slightly. "When Tim here was a little baby Robin. Thirteen or so."

"Excuse you, I had had my fourteenth birthday by then. I had my licence."

"Oh I'm sorry, when he was fourteen years old. And far more grown up."

"That's right."

"You were buried alive under concrete?" Jason sounded incredulous.

"It happened. Why, did you think you were the only one? Dick once tunneled out of a grave sideways and almost fell off a cliff into the sea."

"I didn't think you knew about that time," Dick said, his voice soft.

Tim grinned. "You left some notes in your own computer system about it."

"Stalker."

"You like me that way."

"You've both also been buried alive?" Jason threw his hands in the air.

"Mmhmmm." Tim yawned and stretched, walking towards the stairs.

"As I was saying, it can get a bit tiring listening to you go on about it," Dick added, following him.

"I DIED!"

"Yes and you never ever let any of us forget it." Dick slung an arm over Tim's shoulder, then turned his head back to look at Jason. "Want some hot chocolate before bed?"

#fic snippets #Robin 3-5 and Nightwing 127-128 exist folks

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thefiery-phoenix · 2 days

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yandere Gun Park x f!reader (how he would deal with some assholes trying to catcall his girl? and how he would comfort her??) 🤨 the situation might be like she called him to pick her up at late night after having a party at a club w/her friends? thank you!

THE BLOOD ON HIS HANDS (YANDERE JONGGUN PARK X READER)

You weren't one to head out for clubs but you decided to make an exception this one time since it was your friend's birthday and you couldn't miss out on it since it would be rude and you didn't have the heart to disappoint your friend on her special day but you also promised yourself that you wouldn't drink. You were dressed in a knee length maroon dress that hugged your curves and left your hair open as you grabbed your black purse and the gift for your friend and put on your heels and made your way down to the club for the party. Your friend let out an excited squeal as she spotted you and enveloped you in a hug and you placed the gift on the table nearby while you surveyed the scene around you, the strobe lights made your head throb slightly but you ignored the feeling and you felt yourself getting lost in your thoughts, trying to ignore the chatter around you and the hustle and bustle

You wouldn't say you had a bad time either, you had fun dancing with your friends and you couldn't help but feel bashful and flustered after you finished your karaoke song and everyone around you clapped and cheered for you. Your friend cut her birthday cake and after a few light hearted conversations with your other friends, you decided you had enough fun for one night and you could feel your social energy draining out as you bade your friends goodbye and you decided to leave. Little did you know, just like how good things must come to an end, a horrid end was about to ruin your perfect night unbeknownst to you

You've always found comfort and solace in the night time, you liked the way the cool breeze felt around your skin as you looked up at the inky dark night sky shimmering with stars and your mind could form images of various constellations you'd read about a while ago as you hummed softly to yourself and continued to walk. While you were walking, you halted a few moments later as you stared at the large yellow board in front of you with the words 'Construction in progress' as you groaned in dismay and you realized you had to take another route through the alleyways which was an option you weren't overly fond of since it meant you'd take longer to reach home. Besides, you were sure Gun wouldn't be too pleased if you were back home later than the time you both agreed on as you sighed and decided to just suck it up and deal with it and you started making your way to the alleyways

While you walked, you spotted a few alcohol bottles strewn across on the ground and a few cigarettes on the ground as well as you scrunched up your nose in distaste and walked faster, your heart beat racing after every step. Your eyes landed on the 4 men sitting on their bikes a distance away from you in the alleyway, their words a bit slurred and looking like they were drunk as you gulped nervously and put your head down, hoping that they wouldn't pick on you if you just minded your own business and went on your merry way. "Well boys, look what we have here, a fine piece of meat...damn she's hot'' hollered one of the guys as the other guys laughed in response at his words and you cringed at his words but didn't say anything and continued to walk faster till someone got in front of you and blocked your path. "Where are you going cutie, you don't wanna spend time with us and get to know us? I'm hurt you know...'' said the guy in front of you and laughed mockingly as he leaned closer to you. You flinched and recoiled backwards and tried to step towards the other side till he blocked your path again and played with a strand of your hair and sniffed it with a lecherous look in his eyes

"Please let me go'' you whispered as you backed away from him till someone grabbed your arms from the back and pushed his face closer to your neck. "You smell so good...and such a pretty voice...wonder how pretty you'd look when you're under us, screaming our names...I bet you'd like that wouldn't you given the way you're dressed...it's like you're practically asking for someone to spend the night with you'' whispered the man as he chuckled darkly and you felt tears prick your eyes at his words and bile rising to your throat. Your hands reached into your purse and you quickly dialed Gun's number hoping he'd answer the phone before another guy ripped your purse away from you and threw it on the ground away from your reach. "Let's have some fun with no distractions, yeah? No one's going to hear you scream...'' he spoke maliciously as his eyes glinted with dark desire for you and you struggled in vain against the man who was holding you captive in his arms and tears flowed down your face freely

You remembered seeing Gun fight multiple times and you tried to replicate one of his moves which ended up in one of the men slapping you hard across the face and he held your cheeks harshly and grabbed your hair which made you wince in pain. "I'll show you what happens to dumb little girls like you who think they're too good'' he hissed as his hand darted out to tear your dress off and you shut your eyes and whimpered till you heard the sound of the same man letting out a sharp grunt of pain. Your mind was filled with confusion as you opened your eyes to see the man who slapped you now on the ground grunting in pain and clutching at his now broken hand as a familiar guy wearing a black suit and black glasses blended into the darkness of the night as he emerged from the shadows looking irritated

"GUN!" you cried out in relief, your heart soaring with joy after seeing him as his eyes momentarily softened when his gaze landed on you but after the whimpers of the man beneath him got on his nerves, he calmly lit a cigarette and stomped on the guy's head and back and glared at the guys around you. Another guy tried to attack him and went in for a punch when Gun just let out a disinterested hum and grabbed his arm and twisted it as the man fell on the ground wincing in pain. Gun then kicked his shins and kicked his jaw which rendered the man unconscious. One of them tried to run away in fear when Gun grabbed him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall repeatedly over and over again till his head dripped with blood and he fell down unconscious. The fourth guy whimpered and pleaded for mercy as he fell down to his knees pathetically sobbing but Gun let out a noise of discontent and disgust as he grabbed him by his hair. "You bastards actually had the audacity to lay your hands on MY woman...I don't show mercy'' he replied coldly as he twisted his neck the other side and the guy fell down on the ground. At this point you were pretty sure he wasn't breathing and the others were probably dead or something as Gun, to add insult for injury stubbed out his cigarette on one of their foreheads and stomped on their hands for a good measure before he made his way to you and his hands gently brushed against your cheek to dry your tears

"Don't worry love...I'm here..'' he whispered as his expression softened to see your scared and vulnerable state and brushed a few strands of hair from your face and pulled you close to him. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around you and kissed your head gently. "How...how did you even find me, I thought the call didn't go through'' you said and looked at him as he smirked at you in amusement. "You really think I'd let my girl walk through these streets with no help? I'm always watching your every move, that's why I told you it's better if I just lock you in my house and throw away the key so you won't get into situations like this...although I'm tempted to do it now. I'm not leaving you...ever'' he spoke as his voice was laced with the usual possessiveness he had for you and his grip on your wrist became tighter

You tried to walk when you let out a wince of pain and your face morphed into a grimace as he realized you hurt your foot. He immediately lifted you bridal style in his arms and you let out a squeak of nervousness. "It's fine, I can walk, I don't want to burden you'' you mumbled as he gave you a sharp glare. "You're NOT a burden and never will be. Now stop your silly protesting, I'm carrying you whether you like it or not. Your foot is injured so don't give me that I'm fine nonsense'' he replied sharply as you could feel your cheeks tinge slightly with a blush and you hid your face with your hands which he found rather endearing and he chuckled softly as he pecked a kiss to your cheeks before he made his way back to his residence

You took a nice warm shower and he motioned for you to come to bed with him as you climbed on the bed with him and he wrapped his arms around you firmly and he kissed your head. "Thanks for saving me'' you mumbled and leaned closer to his warm embrace, that spread warmth through your heart and made you feel safe and protected. "Of course, it's nothing you should be thanking me about...'' he replied and stroked your hair. He watched you drift off to sleep, his heart weighing heavily to see the tired and pained expression on your face because of the ordeal you had to go through today as he held you close to him, keeping you safe and sheltered in his arms. He wouldn't hesitate to kill for you again, his only regret was giving those fools a quick and fast death instead of a slow and agonizing one. But the next time someone would ever dare to mess with you, he wouldn't hesitate to grant them a slow painful death, besides, what's more blood on his hands going to do when he's already killed so many in your name and for the sake of your love and safety?

#yandere jonggun park x reader #yandere jonggun park #yandere gun park x reader #yandere gun park imagines #yandere gun park oneshots #yandere gun park scenarios #yandere gun park headcanons #yandere lookism characters x reader #yandere lookism characters #yandere lookism x reader #yandere lookism #dark lookism characters x reader #dark lookism characters #dark lookism x reader #dark lookism #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons

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captainkirkk · 16 hours

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

BNHA

something else to pretend by beeclaws

Bakugou apologies. Somehow, this makes things worse.

Retrograde by redrobin1989

Retrograde /ˈretrəˌɡrād/ adjective: directed or moving backwards noun: a degenerate person. verb: go back in position or time.

Seasoned pro heroes Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki are mentally transported back to their younger bodies due to a quirk. All they have to do is wait for the quirk to wear off for everything to return to normal. But sometimes the journey is worse than the destination.

dick move by konan_konan

Part 1 of batfam twitter shenanigans

dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・52min guys what if dick grayson IS batman. that’s why he thought he was getting cancelled. it all makes sense. 784K Views | 142 Retweets | 52 Quote Tweets | 63.9K Likes

tason jodd ☑ @jsntdd・49min ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo asshole last week you said i was batman 461K Views | 88 Retweets | 16 Quote Tweets | 18.3K Likes

or: a civilian overhears a conversation between batman and nightwing. twitter does what it always does: makes things worse

the rules of playing make believe by hoebiwan

“We can’t squat in some dead guy’s mansion, Damian,” Tim says. Damian, in the midst of packing all their meager belongings into grocery sacks, ignores him.

“Why not?” Jason demands. “It’s not like he’s using it. Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

Or: Homeless!Reverse Robins squat in Wayne Manor.

Nine Worlds

with a winged heart by celebros

"Cliopher. Cliopher. Cliopher." I blink. It's Conju, standing with his hands on my shoulders, and I go to answer him and realize that I am already speaking, babbling, and Franzel is behind him, wringing his hands and looking near tears. I try to focus on what I'm saying, but it's like a stream, light and splashing past me, too quick to hold, not enough to catch, somehow, somehow – A few weeks before the start of the viceroyship ceremonies, Kip finds himself the unwitting recipient of a truth serum.

Original Work

That Frightful Nest Inside the Throat by whereveryouroam

Part 1 of That Dreadful Clockwork Beats Below

Living horses were in vogue among the high and mighty of the great families, but Peter’s new owners had sent proud motorhorses, clicking over in a blur of cogs and wheels, to draw the carriage. It was a very nice carriage - plush and cushioned. He couldn’t help but think this was sinister. Masters didn’t transport slaves in finery. At least, not slaves like him.

Peter’s spent years under the cruelty of masters who want the Monster inside him to become their weapon. He is quite sure that Lord and Lady Arken will be no different.

Percy Jackson

Through rose-colored glasses (the past is perfect) by Mo13

Part 1 of Rose-colored glasses verse

Luke/Percy were in a non-consensual 'relationship' when Percy was twelve. Percy deals with the aftermath, while constantly convincing himself that his relationship with Luke was fine (IT WAS NOT). Mostly cooperates with canon up to the end of Heroes of Olympus.

The Goblin Emperor

A Complete Education by bomberqueen17

Preparing for the Emperor's wedding, everyone has some things they need to learn about.

Emperor's Best Friend by imaginary_golux

Ino and Mireän decide their cousin Maia needs a special present for his twentieth birthday.

a burning coal of kindness by egelantier for Morgan (duckwhatduck)

When Maia is kidnapped by a faction hoping to halt the construction of Wisdom Bridge, Beshelar, gravely injured, is by his side. It might just be their undoing.

The Stairs Beneath the Heart by hermitknut

Part 1 of Keystone

The reign of Varenechibal IV is over; the reign of Edrehasivar VII has begun. The transition, however, is anything but smooth, as the Alcethmeret household navigates grief and worry as well as adapting to the new emperor.

A series of missing scenes and unseen moments centering around the Alcethmeret household over the course of the first few months of Maia's reign.

#sorry for the delay you guys!!!#i'm in the middle of moving house ooft #weekly fic round up #my posts #tge recs #dc recs #bnha recs #pjo recs #hote recs #misc recs #fic recs

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royaltozaki · 1 day

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the blurry line between friendship and something more

sana x fem!reader - trailer ▸ part 1

synopsis: the second day on this season’s bachelorette involves our first group date, a solo date with last night’s lucky winner, and of course, a rose ceremony to say goodbye to a few more contestants

warnings: cursing, implied sex, children, mentions of absent parenthood

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: my head is so empty but i hope that this is an enjoyable continuation, ty to all the love and all the readers <3 appreciate u all

⋆｡°·☁︎

you wake up quite early the next day despite the long night. you pass by sana's door that's still closed, safely assuming she would still be asleep. it's also early enough that none of the producers or costume and makeup teams have come by yet to start preparing the two of you for shooting today, and you decide to head downstairs and make yourself a smoothie.

you cringe slightly as you turn the blender on, the loud whirring blasting through the peace and quiet of the early morning, but knowing sana sleeps like the dead, you're not too concerned about waking her up.

once your smoothie is ready, you walk out onto the patio and take in the slight bite of the morning air, reflecting over the events of last night while the sun makes its ascension into the sky.

you had to admit it was a little funny to see the faces of some of the contestants when sana called you out before the rose ceremony and introduced you as her best friend. you took glee in heechul's reaction in particular, horrified at what you may have said about him to sana, sending a wink over to jacky and eunji and a smile at miyeon who had all looked on in surprise as you took your place next to sana.

the rose ceremony droned on a little after that. sana had eliminated people that didn't leave much of an impression on either of you, you didn't remember any of their names. fitting since the night was all about first impressions.

what was surprising however, was who won her first impression rose. wonsik, the terrified guy that looked like he was going to pee himself every time a woman so much as looked in his direction, must have made some sort of lasting impact on sana that hopefully did not involve actual urine. she wasn't specific when you asked her afterwards, just saying that she had enjoyed her conversation with him and that he seemed like a sweet guy.

this entire thing was making you think maybe you knew sana a little less than you thought.

you sigh. an uncomfortable pit has found it's home in the bottom of your stomach ever since the beginning of last night, and it didn't seem like it was going away anytime soon. you dread what was to come.

⋆｡°·☁︎

the first group date was underway.

sana had picked miyeon, eunji, jacky, jun, dae, and jiwon to participate. all 6 of them had made relatively good impressions with you on the first night, so this made for a good chance to dig a little more and see if you could eliminate any of these contestants.

it was honestly a pretty intense date to start with, diving right into the nitty gritty relationship questions most couples wouldn't even attempt until a few months in.

kids.

you knew sana adored kids and that she was a natural with them. this date involved everyone heading to a childcare and running it for a day.

this meant you could sit off to the side and laugh at the way eunji and dae looked completely out of depth trying to get a naked toddler that was running around on a tantrum back into his clothes.

you were sitting with jiwon since you didn't get to talk much to her on the introduction night, but with her experience as a nurse, she had a way with kids that made them just fall into her lap and completely calm down.

"did you say anything about me to sana?" she was a little awkward sitting with you, in contrast to the confidence she had last night when she had pulled sana away for a conversation during what you liked to refer to in your head as 'the hunger games'.

you feign indifference, "oh you know... only that you were really rude to me when we first met and called me a" you cover the little girl's ears sitting in jiwon's lap, "whore."

she looks at you in horror.

you burst out laughing, "i'm just joking jiwon don't worry. no i didn't say anything in particular which means you must have made a plenty good impression on your own to land on this group date." you offer an apologetic smile as she collects herself, combing her fingers through the little girl's hair lulling her into sleep.

"well thankyou. i'm glad sana has you here." she says honestly, placing the girl into a cot when she's fallen asleep and tucking her in, "it's pretty daunting to be dating so many people at once. it's good you can set her straight and be an objective presence."

you hum, "you're really good with these kids. is that something you want for yourself in the future?"

"not really to be honest. i grew up with really young siblings and my parents were pretty absent so i guess i got good at taking care of them because i had to. but that's also why i don't really want kids. being a nurse is really tiring and you're on call pretty much 24/7. the overtime is terrible and by the time we finally get off work, all we want is a good night’s sleep before we have to do it all over again. i don't want to have kids if i'm going to be like my parents, if i have them i want to make sure i have the time for them to give them the proper care and love they need."

"i'm sorry you had to go through that." the two of you whip your heads around to find sana there with a gentle smile on her face, carrying a little boy on her hip who looks perfectly snug against her.

jiwon's blushing and shuffling over so sana can join you on the carpeted floor. "there's nothing to apologise for. my experiences have shaped who i am today, it's why i do what i do and why i love it."

"that's admirable. i'm actually someone who really loves kids and would love to have some of my own, but i can definitely see different perspectives." sana's slotting in easily, and you find your jaw clenching at the way she's wrapped an arm around jiwon's and playing with her fingers.

jiwon's fumbling and a blushing mess, "oh! i mean like obviously it depends on my partner! i'd be open to discussing kids with the right person, but yeah like i said, i just want to make sure that the kids get what they need or it can really mess them up."

sana's giggling and you feel completely invisible, quietly excusing yourself to let them talk.

you bite your lip, the pit in your stomach feeling heavier than ever. you want to kick yourself, you have no idea why you're feeling this way, and jiwon seemed like such a sweet person as well, there was no reason at all for you to think she was unsuitable for sana. and yet, watching them touch and laugh and talk together made you feel all sorts of things you weren't ready to delve into yet.

you walk towards miyeon who is trying her best but still looks very much out of her zone.

"hey y/n-" she grimaces as the girl on her shoulder seems to pull on her hair, "bet everyone wants to date me right now huh?"

you laugh, helping get the girl off of her and pushing her towards another group of kids that seemed to be playing some sort of game.

"i'm sure sana appreciates the effort."

she cringes as she pulls something out of her hair and inspecting it before throwing it into the bin with a look of disgust, "eugh. i'm never having kids."

you laugh again, grabbing a comb and offering it to her as she accepts it gratefully.

"so you pulled a fast one on us last night huh?" again, you're struck by the similarities she shares with sana, if sana didn't love kids as much as she did, you'd bet she would be acting exactly like miyeon, screeching and running from the kids afraid of getting dirty or clung onto, kind of like how she would run from birds.

you shove her teasingly as she sends you a light glare, "don't worry. i only had good things to say about you." you smile reassuringly.

"oh i'm sure. i'm perfect anyways i don't know what you could've said that could be bad anyway." she smirks.

you roll your eyes goodheartedly, "actually i think i just found something. better watch your back, next time you pull anything funny i'll just tell sana you can't love anyone more than you love yourself."

she fakes a gasp, exaggeratingly placing a hand over her mouth, "you wouldn't."

"oh i would."

she sighs exasperatedly, "guess i better pack all my mirrors up and head back to file a marriage certificate for miyeon and me."

you spend the rest of the date with miyeon, laughing and joking around, you're appreciative of the distraction she offers and you're glad that she's here. even if you weren't her first priority here, you're glad to have made a friend in her.

⋆｡°·☁︎

after the group date ends, sana is off for her solo date with wonsik. it's strange being so involved in her dating life all of a sudden. you're used to her telling you about her relationships, the dates she's been on, but now you're directly involved and you're seeing how she acts around the people she's dating. it was a whole different side of her.

that night, there's another rose ceremony. you're with all the contestants again, mingling and talking while waiting for sana and wonsik to make the grand appearance after coming back from their date. you'd overheard from the producers they were going on a helicopter ride and having a forest picnic, all very extravagant and fantastical.

so it's not too much of a surprise when everyone rushes towards the loud engine sounds and rotating helicopter wings yelling and full of excitement.

wonsik steps out first and he turns and extends a hand for sana to take.

she steps out in a stunning satin pale green dress that clings close to her curves and accentuates her shoulders and collarbone and the jewelry hanging around her neck. she's all smiles and holding wonsik's hand as she walks towards all of you.

you down your drink, finding relief in the way the alcohol burns down your throat.

let the hunger games begin.

⋆｡°·☁︎

sana has been neglecting you today. that's what you're thinking as you down your eighth drink of the night. you're fine though, completely, perfectly, fine fine fine.

jacky's calling for another round of shots and you cheer with everyone as you all down it. you think sana's off with dae or someone but you lost track after the fifth drink.

"miyeon!!" you're grinning as you sling an arm around your new friend.

"woaaah y/n how much have you had to drink?"

"like eight but i can hold my alcohol good trust." you place your hand on your heart in mock salute.

"uh huhhhhhh c'mon let's get you some water."

"no! no water, only more alcohol! c'mon do a shot with me!" you're pouting and stamping your foot like a little kid, trying to drag her back towards the guys who are whooping and calling for another round.

"nuh uhhhh." her firm is strong around your waist as she drags you away towards a semi-secluded alcove and sits you down on the cushioned bench.

"who woulda known you'd be this kinda drunk y/n. sana must have her hands full with you." she's teasing as she gets you to drink a full glass of water, making sure you've drunk the whole cup before putting it away and sitting next to you.

you're pouting, "sana has her hands full with all of YOU actually. she doesn't have time for me here. i don't even know why she brought me here. i haven't done anything except watch her get it on with like every single person here." you hiccup, slurring as you're talking.

miyeon's frowning, a hand at your back, rubbing circles in a comforting pattern, "i'm sure that's not true y/n. you're her best friend, she just has a lot going on right now. imagine dating 24 people at the same time, anyone would have a hard time even remembering all of those names."

"yeah but my point still stands! there was literally no reason to bring me on here! she literally just did it to make me suffer i swear."

miyeon's surprised, "why are you suffering?"

you bury your head in your hands, groaning, "ughhhhhhhh i don't knowwwwwwwww. i just feel so icky whenever i see her while we're filming. like am i just being an attention whore or am i like like friend jealous? it's just so weird seeing her talking to people with like, the intention to be with them."

"well do you have this problem outside of filming? like in your real lives, do you get friend jealous easily?"

you look at miyeon dumbly, "no because sana's always going to come back to me."

she sucks in a breath and you can't tell what the expression on her face means, "what's different now then? are you worried she's not going to come back to you?" she's gentle and soft and you feel so comfortable with her, so easily able to open up to her despite only knowing each other for two days. reality television really does make everything go so much faster.

"no it's not that. she's not the type of person to just leave her friendships behind after she gets into a relationship. she cares too much about people to do that." you lean your head onto her shoulder, sighing in defeat.

"you know what it sounds like to me?"

"hmm?"

"have you ever thought that maybe you l-"

before she can finish the sentence, everyone is being called back into the house for the rose ceremony. tonight, 3 more people were going to be eliminated leaving 16 contestants. you hadn't even noticed that sana had come back from her talks with the other participants, when you spot her, she's looking at you strangely, you've never seen that look on her face before and you're a little scared at what it could mean. you hadn't done anything to upset her had you?

miyeon sighs next to you, "c'mon." she stretches a hand out to you, and you take it gratefully, walking back hand in hand, forgetting what miyeon was saying while thinking about what that look sana was wearing meant.

⋆｡°·☁︎

you take your place next to sana, a little shakily as your vision blurs and you giggle a little. sana sends you a sharp glare as a hand shoots out to support your back and helping you right yourself. you mutter a quick sorry and stare down at your heels, remembering you're being filmed and most of the country will see this tomorrow.

sana starts reading out the names of the contestants that will continue to stay and you're checking off names slowly in your head. some people you still haven't really gotten to know too well yet, but you were getting a little better with names as you recognise most of the ones being called out.

you cringe when jihyo's name is called out and she saunters out with a bright smile, kissing sana on the cheek before receiving her rose. you smile for jacky, eunji, and jiwon, and it's not really a surprise that wonsik already got a rose on his date with sana.

slowly the roses wittle down, and then there's only one left.

hold on.

you look up to assess the remaining contestants.

miyeon.

you meet her gaze and she smiles at you encouragingly, always the optimist.

there's no way sana wasn't going to pick miyeon for the last rose right? they had hit it off so well on the first night and miyeon was picked for the group date today as well. as far as you know they still had good banter going on at the date and her talk with sana tonight seemed to go off without any hiccups as well.

yeah there was nothing to worry about. sana would pick miyeon.

"heechul."

the next few moments go in slow motion for you. you're dumbfounded as you watch heechul step forward with a sleazy smirk on his face, stalking forward with misjudged confidence. behind him, miyeon has kept her smile on her face but you can see the slight fall in her eyes.

"heechul, will you accept this-"

before you can think, before sana can finish the sentence, you're stepping forward and knocking the flower out of her hand.

everyone looks at you in shock and there's a stunned silence that fills the room for 2 seconds before Heechul interrupts.

"ahaha I will Sana thankyou-"

"No!"

He looks over at you with a smoulder on his face, an eye twitching as he tries to compose himself in front of the cameras.

Sana's snapped out of her shock now as well and turns to you, quite clearly angry with the scene you're making.

"outside. now."

she doesn't give you another second and turns on her heel. you gulp, you'd rarely seen sana angry, she was always the happy-go-lucky sunshine girl, and never was that anger ever directed at you.

"what the fuck was that?" after you'd scrambled after her.

you're still dumbfounded, "w-what? what do you mean what was that? i should be asking you that!? how could you pick heechul over miyeon?!"

her expression grows cold, "that's not your choice to make. much less on national television."

"and that's not an answer! i don't understand sana! you got along so well with miyeon and i told you what an ass heechul was! i don't- i can't- it doesn't make sense!"

"it doesn't have to make sense to you. love doesn't make sense. i need you to stop butting into my decisions. i chose heechul and that's that. miyeon is going home tonight."

"you asked me to help with your decisions! you asked me to be here! and i don't see the point of that if you're just going to ignore everything i say and do what you want. i may as well just go home if you're going to be like this the rest of the season!"

sana's face softens and she almost looks... ashamed?

"i'm sorry. please don't go home. i do need you here. i promise i'll take your suggestions in after tonight... just not on this. please don't argue with me."

you've started to pace in frustration in front of her, "but i don't understand! why? why would you ruin this poor girl's chance with you when she's clearly infatuated already and-"

"she's not! can't you see?! she likes you!"

you pause. what?

sana's blushing and clearing her throat, "anyway, if she's not here for the right reasons then she shouldn't be here anyway. so i'm sending her home."

you burst then, "what?! sana what the fuck?!"

she bristles, "don't what the fuck me! you didn't see the way she talked to you at the group date today! and then just then, her arm around you like you're her girlfriend," she spits the word out, "rubbing you're back and looking at you like that! you'd have to be blind not to see that she has feelings for you!"

"my eyes are right here sana." you point aggressively at your own eyes, "and i can see just fine thank you very much. miyeon was keeping me company at the childcare because my best friend didn't have time for me and left me to fend for my own with all these strangers! and miyeon was helping me again tonight because i was out of my mind drunk! i felt like shit and she was being a good friend while you were off god knows where making out with every other person in here!"

"they're strangers to me too you know?! at least i'm making the effort to get to know them when you barely even know half their names! and that's like half your job here too isn't it? and i'm sorry that i have to talk to everyone here because if you didn't know, we're filming a show and i'm the main attraction so i'm sorry that i actually have to go around and date people because that's the whole point of this fucking show!"

you're both breathing heavily, emotions running high.

a producer finally gains the courage to interrupt the two of you, looking like she wants to be anywhere else, she gingerly comes up and taps sana's shoulder. "i'm sorry guys but we have to get back to filming. the contestants are getting antsy and we need to reshoot that last rose because-" she glances at you with pity, "um yeah. so if we could get back that would be really great..."

sana's tense when she speaks up, "alright. i'll be in in a second."

the producer doesn't look convinced but nods quickly and rushes away again.

sana sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, "go home. you're drunk. i'll get one of the staff members to drive you."

you're about to protest when she interrupts, "you're drunk y/n. and definitely not television ready. go home." she says with finality and turns around, leaving you outside.

you're seething in the aftermath, adrenaline running high and blood pumping. you push off the staff that sana's sent, instead, walking around the side of the house and towards the front where the limos waiting to take the eliminated contestants home would be waiting.

you're still replaying the argument in your head when the eliminated participants finally exit the house. you spot miyeon immediately, her head still held high, and you feel another flush of anger at the fact that she was eliminated.

when she sees you she offers a slight smile, "hey y/n. funny we're meeting like this again. last time we were in this same limo coming to this place all hopes and dreams right?"

you sigh at her positivity, not holding back when you pull her into a hug and squeezing.

"i'm sorry you had to leave like this. i know how you felt about sana. i'm sorry she couldnt reciprocate that."

her arms come up around you as well, and you feel her release a heavy sigh, a little bit of her mask cracking.

"i appreciate that. i hope you take care of her y/n."

you bite your lip, trying not to think of the fight the two of you just had, nodding anyway to reassure her.

"although i know you will. knowing how you feel about her..."

you pull away this time, looking at her in confusion, "what do you mean by that?"

she smiles at you sadly, "you might not realise it yet. but when you do it'll all make sense. i just hope it won't be too late then."

"what- miyeon-"

she's leaving and getting into the car, slipping something into your hand.

"take care y/n. it was nice knowing you even though it was for a short amount of time. i'm glad we became friends. thank you for being there for me during this." she smiles and closes the door, and you can only look after her as her car pulls away.

you look at what she's slipped into your hand.

a small piece of paper with a line of numbers written in neat cursive.

you clutch it a little tighter, grateful for her extension of friendship even beyond all of this, in the form of her number.

you turn to the poor staff member who's been awkwardly hovering behind you and gesture that you can go now. he sighs in relief and leads you towards another car to take you home.

⋆｡°·☁︎

sleep doesn't come easy. you're tossing and turning. you had heard sana come home and go straight to her room not long ago. you sigh, feeling conflicted. on one hand, you felt guilty that you had almost made a public embarrassment out of yourself and of sana, it was lucky the show wasn't aired live. but on the other, you were still confused how she could think miyeon had feelings for you of all people. it was so obvious to you that miyeon only had eyes for her. she had said it herself on the first night, that she wouldn't be guilty of any cross dating within the participant pool and that she was only set on sana.

a strike of lightning interrupts your thoughts, followed by the booming sounds of thunder.

you sigh, turning again in your sleep, pulling the comforter up higher, trying to find sleep.

then the second thunder crack shakes through the house and you jump up. sana.

you're out the door in seconds, hand resting on the door handle to sana's room. you hesitate. did she even what you there? you knew she was deathly afraid of thunder and lightning. back home you would always crawl into bed with her, shooshing and talking with her, distracting her until the storm passed and she could fall asleep. but you were afraid things were different now after your fight. you had never fought before, and things were so different with the entire show going on.

a third thunder clap sounds out and you hear a light yelp from the other side of the door and your decision's made. you push through quickly, shutting the door softly behind you as you inch closer to her bed. you cautiously lift a leg onto the comforter, careful not to startle her, and make your way under the blanket where she's shivering and crying, curled up in a ball with her hands over her ears.

you curl up behind her, sliding your arms over her midriff and resting your head against her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair. you feel her hands come down to yours immediately, clutching on tightly. she's still whimpering softly and crying but you squeeze against her even tighter, whispering i'm heres and you're okays.

slowly, you feel her breathing even out, she still flinches with every thunderclap, but she's not so tense anymore, uncurling herself but not letting go of your hands.

you're tracing patterns onto her palms, hoping to relax and distract her.

"thankyou." her voice is croaky and quiet.

you hum, nuzzling your nose against the back of her neck, "of course sana. you're my best friend. i'm always going to be here for you."

you feel her tense up again.

you don't want her to push you away so you interlock your fingers, holding her hands firmly in yours, not letting her break away.

"i'm sorry for overreacting tonight. you're right. this is your show and i'm just meant to be here to provide advice, and you can choose whether or not to take that on. but the decisions in the end are yours to make. and i'm sorry i disrespected that."

she sighs, turning in your arms, your heart flips a little at the proximity, but you busy yourself with wiping at her eyes, clearing away the wet tear tracks.

"i'm sorry too. i- i don't really know what came over me. maybe i was just a little scared you'd replace me. you told me on the first night that miyeon reminded you a lot of me. and then seeing the two of you get along so well, and her being able to be there for you when i wasn't, i felt a little angry with myself i think."

"i could never replace you sana. but i need you to understand that miyeon didn't have feelings for me. and i know i need to learn to be a little less clingy and needy, you're carrying a lot right now and you don't need to babysit another person on top of all that. so don't be angry with yourself for that, you've always been there for me in the past whenever i've needed you. and i know you'll always be there for me in the future too."

she frowns, "but not tonight. i wasn't there for you tonight." she brushes your cheek gently, "are you okay? why did you drink so much? that's not normally like you."

you sigh, placing your forehead against hers and closing your eyes, reveling in the closeness and familiar comfort sana offered.

"i don't really know. miyeon was saying something but she never got to finish her thought."

you know sana frowns again at the mention of miyeon because you feel her forehead wrinkling a little. you chuckle, "stop that." you poke her side and she wriggles away from you, pouting.

you hum, "it's hard to explain sana. it's like- like i can see everything now y'know? like i'm there when you're flirting with others, i'm there when you're in the process of getting to know someone and dating someone and it's different because that's not a real experience. like in the real world, i'm not going on group dates with your 6 other romantic interests, i just get the brief summary from you after you've finished the date. and i don't know- i- this is a hard word to use but i think i get jealous? but like- ugh i don't know it's all just so confusing and-"

you blink. a soft warmth is pressing against your lips. then as soon as it came it's gone.

your eyes are wide as you look into sana's equally widening eyes.

"oh my god i'm so sorry i didn't-"

and then you're pressing your lips against hers again. it's addicting. her lips are soft, and fit perfectly against yours, and this feels nothing like all of the kisses you've shared with your various exes. she's returning the kiss, moulding against you, a hand coming up to rest on your neck as you feel her fingers slide into your hair. your fingers come to rest naturally at her waist, which you find is just skin because her top has ridden up a little and she gasps at the cold feeling of your hands on her body.

you take the opportunity and lick into her, earning your first moan that shoots a line of energy straight to your core.

you're on top of her now, and it's your turn to moan into her when you feel a leg lift and press right against where you need her most. you're nipping down her neck, laying soft kisses and licks and she's panting under you, both of your minds hazy with lust and want.

she speaks up first though, "w-wait y/n-"

you hum against her pulse point as you suck on it, biting softly, relishing the moan it rips out of her.

"should we really- ah- be doing this?"

you pause, lifting off her a little, the sight of her panting and out of breath, lips swollen from kissing, hair messy, and a slightly darkening spot at her neck, all of it going straight to your core, as you grind down a little on her leg.

"fuck- i want to. i want you if you want to."

you're back at her neck, licking and sucking a path up to her ear, taking in an earlobe and nipping lightly.

she jolts up into you and you both moan at the slight friction it provides. she's closing her eyes, "oh fuck it- ye-s yes god- yes i need you y/n please."

and that's all it takes for you to reattach your lips, the storm, the show, everything else completely forgotten, just the two of you in this moment. you could deal with everything else tomorrow.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #twice x reader #sana imagines #twice imagines #sana x f!reader #sana x fem!reader #royaltozaki

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 22 hours

Text

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

TW: NSFW, bondage, uncomfy situations

The next time you see Dr. Julian, (which isn’t at the jail, because you fucking tried to go bail him out and they just looked at you like you were crazy when you kept insisting Dr. Julian Mercer had to be in there) he has a red mark around his neck, a black eye, and a bump on his temple that’s almost the size of a chicken egg.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you hiss, rushing over to him. He takes your elbow and ducks the two of you into a supply closet. You think he just wants to have a private conversation, until he backs you into the shelves with a tonsil-inspecting, toe-curling kiss, his big hands digging into your waist. You grab fistfuls of his lab coat, you are so surprised it doesn’t even occur to you to fight him. When he finally pulls back you are breathless—and in shock.

He seems to find this adorable, reaching up to caress your face. “Now all that was worth it,” he says cheekily.

You blink up at him, stupid as a lamb. “Did he hurt you?” you demand, trying to inspect the mark around his neck.

“We reached an understanding,” Julian assures you with a dark look, taking your hands in his own.

“But—“

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. Really.” It comes out like an order, and you don’t really like it when he talks to you that way, but you guess you understand that he doesn’t want to talk about Ludlow anymore.

“Ok.”

You are so going to worry about it. You also know there’s no way in hell that he’s going to want to see you anymore.

He looks down at you with that soft expression that warms your insides. “When’s your next day off?”

You blink again. “Friday?”

“Can I make you dinner?”

“You want…to cook for me?”

“At my place. Around seven. I’ll text you the address.”

You’re still not sure if that was a request or an order, but you’re so dumbfounded that it doesn’t even occur to you to offer an opinion.

“But what about…?”

“I’m not scared of him, y/n.” The marks on his face indicate that maybe he should be, but the set of this man’s jaw indicates that maybe Ludlow has met his match.

“I’m really sorry. About all of this.”

“I already told you, it’s not your fault.” There’s a flinty note in his voice, and you can tell he just wants you to drop it. Inwardly you flinch a little, but you nod.

***

You suppose because he’s banned from being treated by you at the hospital, pulling you over in the dead of night after your shift becomes his go-to game. Maybe you should have started taking a different route home, but the highway was the fastest (and usually safest) way to go, and the thought of changing your personal day-to-day just for this asshole makes you see red. You refuse, and so you keep getting pulled over, four more times for weaker and weaker excuses. Not signaling when changing lanes. Using your phone (you weren’t). An obstruction to vision hanging from your rearview. And the cherry on top—too dim fucking blinkers?

He even has the gall to check up on you, going so far as to inspect your wrists one evening, and turning your head from side to side with an authoritative finger hooked under your chin. “What do you think you’re doing?” you demand.

“Just making sure Dr. Bitch is behaving himself.”

“That is none of your business.”

“If he hurts you I’ll make it my business.” He just says it so casually. Water is wet, the sun is hot, and Tom Ludlow will fuck up Dr. Mercer’s day if he hurts you, even with consensual rough play. No one has ever stuck their neck out for you like that, and it is not helpful, what this misplaced concern does to your insides. This guy is 300% Pure Asshole. You should not be warming to him.

Truth be told, you are nervous about your date with Julian tomorrow night. Maybe he’s being sweet and cooking for you—but it will also be on his home turf, like meeting a wolf in his den. You don’t really think Julian would hurt you. In fact, the thought seems absurd. But then again…people never cease to surprise you. You see the result of mankind’s insatiable bloodthirst every day at work.

Despite your completely misplaced feelings for Officer Tom Ludlow, the fact stands that he is absolutely harassing you, and what he did to Julian outside the coffee shop was totally unacceptable. Maybe you don’t have any money to sue the LAPD like Julian does, but you’re not totally without a voice. The next morning you find yourself going downtown to the Police Headquarters to file a complaint.

The place is bustling, filled with uniforms and plainclothes and people from every walk of life. It reminds you of the hospital in a way, and a wisp of a thought occurs to you that it’s interesting that you and Officer Ludlow engage in the two professions that truly hold together the fabric of society. Politicians like to think what they do is important, but the two of you do the real dirty work to help people survive through their day to day. There could have been something to that between you—if he wasn’t such a fucking creeper in his off hours.

You follow the signs and the directions from various people behind desks to the Complaints Department. It’s a cordoned off area enclosed by glass. With your hand on the door handle you see who is sitting there behind a cheap mdf wood desk, looking unfairly handsome in his black beat uniform.

You freeze.

How the fuck is he everywhere at once? It dawns on you that if he’s working his shift here during the day—he’s fucking with you on his own time at night. It simultaneously creeps you out and thrills you to your toes, and you know you are one sick puppy.

You know you don’t have the guts to march in there and face him, so you decide to bounce. Of course, not before he turns his head at just the right moment. It’s like this man has a radar for your very presence, and your eyes meet through the glass.

He knows exactly why you’re here, of course, and he smirks at you as though to say, ‘Tell me all about it.’

Bastard.

You turn on your heel, and pray he doesn’t follow you.

***

Later that night, you find yourself seated at the island with a glass of white wine in Dr. Mercer’s Spanish Revival style home in Santa Monica, watching him cook for you. He’s utterly edible, in a pressed light blue button down and khakis that should look dorky but somehow he just makes them look GQ worthy. He’s even worn a tie for you. He’s also wearing an apron, and it’s not so corny as to say Kiss The Cook but you did anyway first thing upon walking through the door. You’d asked if you could help with the meal, and he’d declined with a gracious smile.

Now, you’re pretty sure he parked you here so you could get a view of his tight little rear end as he works at the stove.

You take another big sip of wine. It’s really not fair in the least.

He serves up chicken piccata with fresh vegetables out on the patio, complete with candlelight. The warm night breeze is like the breath of angels, and it’s possibly the most romantic dinner anyone has ever treated you to, and it makes you almost uncomfortable inside, how nice all this is. You know he’d said that he liked you, and he didn’t want a perfect girlfriend…but you can’t help but feel like an imposter here.

There were no candlelit dinners with homemade Italian food and fine wine back in Kansas. There were bonfires in someone’s daddy’s back farm field, copious amounts of beer, and you were lucky if you didn’t get knocked up on the bench seat of someone’s rusty old pickup truck before the night was out. Yee fuckin’ haw.

“You alright?” he asks, reaching across the table to touch your hand.

You realize that you have zoned out, while he was talking, again.

“Fine,” you answer quickly, bolstering yourself with another sip of wine. You’re on your second glass now—you should probably slow down, but it’s so good. “I was just thinking…about how nice, all this is. Thank you, Julian. You’re so sweet.”

He smiles at you from across the table, a winsome and heart-squeezing curl of lips, and he’s so handsome even with the now healing black eye.

“I’m maybe sensing some anxiety stemming from Imposter Syndrome,” he says gently.

“Is that your official diagnosis, Doctor?”

You can tell he likes it when you talk this way to him, even outside of the hospital. You can see it in the sparkle of his lovely mocha-brown eyes. “Something like that.” He leans in towards you, his elbows on the little bistro-style table, pinning you with that acute stare. “I don’t know what happened to you, where you came from, y/n. Maybe you’ll trust me enough to tell me later. But I do know that it’s in the past, and it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve something nice for yourself now. Does that make sense?”

It hits way too close to home, and with a sigh you lean back in your chair, unable to meet his eyes again.

“It sounds so easy, when you put it that way.”

He tilts his head as he examines you, and you’re afraid that attentive stare misses nothing. “I could make it easy, for you,” he offers quietly. Something about that soft but oh-so-sure tone lifts every little fine hair on your body, a wave of gooseflesh erupting across your skin. You feel like a rabbit flicking its ears at the sound of danger, not quite sure which direction it’s coming from.

“What do you mean?” you dare ask.

“It’s part of the appeal of submission for some people, to hand over complete control to someone you trust, to let them make you feel good. It can be an almost…therapeutic release. I think I could do that for you.”

Your heart chooses that moment to lodge itself in your throat, and it takes an embarrassingly long few seconds for you to find your voice again. As usual when you feel wildly uncomfortable, you opt for humor. “Wow, do you subscribe this to your patients often?”

He chuckles, and it is dark and rich as bitter chocolate. “No, though maybe I should.”

You can’t help but notice you haven’t even made it through the main course, before he is bringing this up again. It must be something he really wants from you—and a part of you still finds that so hard to believe. He’d said your defiance on that patient’s discharge triggered this need in him. You wonder if there are other things about you, that has made him zero you out. It’s happened to you before. Narcissists just seem to sniff you out like they’re fucking bloodhounds.

Is Julian like that, underneath all the good looks, the pleasantness, the charm?

Does he think you’d be easy to control? Or does he want a challenge because your dumb ass is stubborn as a mule?

Does he know that if things go badly, you have no one here to offer recourse?

Unless, of course, you count Officer Tom Ludlow, but dear lord that is not the backup plan you want to rely on.

“Well…I’m still thinking about all that,” you deflect, throwing your attention into coiling pasta around your fork, trying not to appear like a complete philistine.

He has the grace not to appear disappointed, though there is a certain sharpness in his look now, and you have a feeling Dr. Mercer is not used to not getting his way, eventually.

***

Julian does let you help with the dishes, and pours you yet another glass of wine. “Digestivo,” he says with a perfect accent and a little smile to himself. He explains it’s the word for the “after dinner drink” in Italy. Apparently it’s usually a liquor, but it seems he doesn’t want you that drunk.

At least, not yet.

He asks if you want to watch a movie or listen to some music? You agree, ask him to pick something out, and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. When you return he is stretched out on the couch, looking utterly handsome, and you find yourself just staring while his head is turned towards the massive TV.

“I know you’re there,” he finally says with a little smile, turning to look at you knowingly. Cautiously you approach, glad for some reason that the tall back of the leather couch is between you. Perhaps the soft little woodland creature that will forever live inside you senses the wolf nearby, even if it’s wearing Brooks Brothers.

“Sorry,” you say apologetically, soft-pawing further into the room. You dare to lean on the back of the couch to look down at him, not quite ready to join him on his level. He seems to understand all too well, and is completely amused by it.

“That’s ok. I can’t keep my eyes off you either. You’re so beautiful.”

You let out a long breath through your nose, never comfortable with what to say to it. You’d been assured by so many people in your early life, that you were in fact an ugly little toad worth less than nothing. Later, those that told you that you were pretty, hurt you in different ways. You wish you could just…take it at face value, and say thanks, without overanalyzing it six hundred ways from Sunday.

“You don’t think so?” He asks, looking up at you with curious eyes. Since you walked through his door tonight, you’ve felt like he’s been studying you, and you sincerely hope it’s not to find your weaknesses and exploit them but rather understand them.

It would be so nice to be understood by a man like Julian, even if he is chaining you to a wall and whipping you while doing it. The thought makes you giggle, and this seems to perplex and amuse him.

“Well?” He asks, reaching up to boldly smooth your cheekbone. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

You try to blame your honesty on the wine when you answer truthfully: “not really.”

Most men don’t want to hear about insecurities and flaws; they want self actualized, confident women who carry themselves in a way you’ll never be able to. It's hard to have self esteem, especially when you’ve spent the majority of your life getting told you shouldn’t have any.

“Hmm.” His thumb rests lightly on your chin, and he parts your mouth a little like he means to kiss you, although he makes no actual move to do so. “That’s another thing I could help you with.”

You're a little lost in the white capped crash of your thoughts, of the pleasant heat in his long, skilled fingers, of the endless dark in his blown black eyes. It takes you a full thirty seconds to think about the conversation, and even then you have to stupidly ask: “what?”

“Feeling beautiful, because you are.” Maybe you don’t mind the bossy, matter of fact tone as much when it’s demanding that you’re worthy and pretty.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” You ask, because you can’t stop thinking about how good his mouth feels on your face.

“Ask me nicely.” That big thumb runs a torturous line over your parted bottom lip.

“You ask me,” you challenge, giggling at your own insolence.

Oh, he loves that, when you push back. The wicked, lazy grin says it all. “How about I make you?”

You press your tummy against the soft, worn leather of his couch to lift yourself up and over, cupping his cheeks and pecking a little kiss to his silky lips. “I’d like to see you try.”

Apparently this is the absolute wrong thing—or absolute right thing—to say to this man, to make him spring up and over the couch, lithe as a panther in his pursuit of you, a feral grin in place. You are not proud, but your first instinct is to bolt, a little scream escaping your lips.

Which is stupid, of course, because he has the body of a runner and legs that are a mile long. You have no idea where you are going, down a convenient hallway. You make it three steps before this man has you grabbed up in his long arms, and he is kissing you as though he means to inhale you. He presses you into the wall, his solid weight so delicious against you, and you know there is no escape unless he decides to let you go.

Somehow, you don’t forsee that happening any time soon.

You surge up on tiptoe to meet him with a moan, your hands sliding over the trim muscles of his chest. He easily grasps both your wrists in his one, obscenely big paw, pinning them above your head.

He pulls back to assess what you think about this, his dark eyes blown wide with desire. You can barely breathe past your heart thundering in your chest, your thighs pressed tightly in a sad attempt to relieve some of the ache between them. You lips are kiss-swollen and moist with his saliva, and you lick them, tasting him. His gaze fixes on your mouth hungrily, before lifting to your eyes again.

When you give the barest nod, he leans in to kiss you again, slower this time, but no less claiming. His lips are soft, and clever, and wreak havoc with your ability to think coherently. And when he slips his lean thigh between your legs so that you might get some relief, you think you might just expire from the pent up desire threatening to burst you at your seams.

It’s not good, you know, when you can’t help but think about Detective Tom Ludlow, and how part of this aching madness in your loins is built up from his brash brand of torture, and you can’t help but imagine what it might be like to feel his rough hands pinning you to the wall like a butterfly. Maybe it’s just the wine, but these distracted thoughts are not good at all.

Julian half carries you, half guides you in a halting walk further down the hallway, opening a door and ushering you inside. It’s a bedroom, though if its his room, you can’t really tell at a glance. It’s nicely decorated, fairly normal, no chains hanging from the ceilings or racks on the walls, and the bed is soft as he presses you back into it with another bone-melting kiss.

He props himself on his elbows so he can look down at you with a mischievous warm smile that lights up your insides. “You really are beautiful,” he tells you gently, tracing your hairline at your temple.

God. If he keeps telling you like this, maybe you will start believing him.

You tug on his tie to bring him back to you, craving another of his sweet kisses. He narrows his eyes at you playfully, and you watch with fascination as he reaches up to loosen the silk noose around his neck.

“Wait.” You halt him, hand on his chest, and he stops the little show.

“What? You okay?” It doesn’t occur to you that this man is just as needy as you are until you hear the heavy pant in his voice, the gravelly scratch of desire polluting his usual smooth pitch that reminds you way too much of someone else that you’re trying not to think about—and failing miserably at.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for all of that,” you say honestly, opening up raw in exchange for the concern on his pretty, angled face.

“Being tied up?” He asks, smoothing your hair off your temple.

“No, I’ve been tied up before.” Although that’s a story for a different day, it’s not like you’re the Virgin Mary, and you don’t want to be—you don’t want him to think that you are—a prude.

“Was it…a bad experience for you?” As he asks this he strokes your hair, petting you like soothing an animal with his light touch.

You hate to say, it’s working.

“Kind of.”

“Maybe…they didn’t stop something you didn’t like when you asked them to?”

That was the understatement of the century.

You close your eyes against the sinking feeling that overcomes you, when you even slightly crack the lockbox that is your stockpile of unpleasant memories from your youth.

“No,” you answer simply, but you know he can hear it all in the roughness of your voice in that one small word.

“What if we have a safeword? If I do anything you don’t like, you say the word, and I promise you I will stop.”

You freeze like a rabbit that's been spotted by a predator, as you mull this over. You know that’s how these things are supposed to go. But once a man has you tied up and at his mercy…he can do anything he wants with you. And men can be so awful, when they feel like they have all the power in their hands.

Is this man awful? It certainly doesn’t seem so. But dear god, you have been so wrong before.

“Maybe….” You roll your eyes up to the ceiling, searching for the right words, determined, for once, not to hide your own needs in favor of someone else’s. “Maybe if you help me understand why this is something you need so much?”

You know it’s possible you’re killing the vibe with such a demand—but maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to slow down and talk.

He blinks down at you, undoubtedly not used to being inquisitioned like this by anyone. “That’s…a big question.”

A surge of annoyance rises in you—as if dating isn’t dangerous enough for women as it is—he’s literally asking you to trust him with your life.

“Oh my god. Ok, get off.” You start to squirm beneath him, pushing at his chest. For a moment you panic, because he is big, and you know he’s not going anywhere, unless he wants to.

To his credit, and your great surpriseâ€“he actually does. He seems disappointed, and his breathing is heavy, his beautiful hair disheveled, but he’s not angry. At least, as far as you can tell. He shoves his hands in his pockets, maybe to keep them off of you.

It is hard not to stare at the sizeable bulge in his preppy khakis.

He blows a long breath out of his nostrils, closing his eyes. “I like to be in charge,” he tells you quietly, not opening his eyes, “Because when I was far too young, my stepmother groomed me to be her pretty plaything. I thought I was getting revenge on my father, because I was angry at him for divorcing my mother. But the joke was on me. I did…anything she asked, and she asked a lot. I didn’t even realize how fucked up it was, until I went away to college. When she sensed she was losing her hold on me, she actually tried to get me to drop out, then she tried to get me expelled. She was a fucking piece of work, and that’s why I am the way I am.”

When at last he works up the courage to look at you, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed in your pretty dress like a rumpled flower, with tears in your eyes for him. “I’m so sorry, Julian…” You reach for him, even though you’re unsure he even wants to be held.

“And I like to bind my partners’ hands, because sometimes being touched during what should be the most wonderful act a man can enjoy reminds me of her, and I can’t stand it. Even…when I’m with someone who I want to touch me.” He gives you a pointed look then, and you understand, and you don’t think he’s trying to manipulate you. He’s just telling you an ugly truth.

Now, it seems you’re both agitated, and what had promised to be a lovely evening is now spiraling down into the abyss. You can’t help but feel responsible for that.

Julian shakes himself, and shakes his head. You feel him drawing away from you, even before he’s moved his feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Then he does start to retreat, but you reach out to him. “Julian, wait…”

He freezes in his tracks, looking up at you through the curtain of his silky hair.

“Pineapple.”

He lifts an eyebrow, genuinely confused. “Excuse me?”

“That’s my safe word.”

To be honest, you’re not entirely sure if you’re doing this because you want to, or because as usual, you sense someone needs a part of you for their own wellbeing, more than you think you do.

His mouth twists in a smile seemingly involuntarily. “I suppose that isn’t something one usually hears in the throes of passion.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Yes.” His look sharpens upon you then, and you feel a fresh gush of moisture between your legs, your bare toes curling. Suddenly, he seems taller, somehow, as though he’s taking up more space in the room than before. “Are you sure about this, y/n?”

Not really, but this won’t be the first time you jump in head first to something you don’t know if you can handle. “Yeah. I believe you, when you say you won’t hurt me.”

Maybe you’re not sure exactly where the whole punishment thing fits in he was talking about earlier, but you assume you’ll get to that later.

He nods, his nostrils flaring as he looks you over again. You watch as his chest rises and falls with deep breaths. And then he returns to loosening that shining blue silk tie from his neck, sliding the fine fabric between his long fingers. “I picked this color tonight because I thought it would look so pretty on you,” he admits.

“How…thoughtful?” You can’t help but tease him, even if your heart is suddenly hammering in your chest.

“Hmm. Someone always has something smart to say.” He strides across the room to you, boldly standing between your legs at the edge of the bed.

“I think you like it?” You can’t help the squeak in your voice, and it makes him smirk down at you. It’s unnervingly similar to someone else who likes to throw around an insouciant half smile, and your fingers curl in the bedspread by your thighs.

Do not think about Tom right now.

It’s too late, of course.

“Give me your hands.” There is that authoritative tone again, that makes everyone at the hospital and out in the real world stand at attention. Everyone, but Tom Ludlow, of course. Unbidden, the image of Tom’s fist making that irreverent gesture out the window enters your head—and like the idiot you are, you smile.

It causes Julian to look at you strangely, searching you out. “What’s so funny?”

You sigh, closing your eyes against that probing stare. “I don’t know,” you deflect, master of the witty riposte as always. Hoping to distract him, you offer up your wrists. “Like this?” you ask, and golly if your ploy doesn’t work.

“That’s my good girl.” A damning warmth spreads through you from his praise, and you watch with fascination as he loops your wrists with the blue silk, tying it off with a beautiful bow that does look pretty against your skin. “We’ll start with this,” he tells you. “If you really want, you can undo it with your teeth.”

Biting your lip, you nod up at him, appreciating the gesture.

“Tell me the safeword?” He asks, lifting your hands up above your head, looking absolutely feral, ready to eat you alive.

“Pineapple,” you tell him, flexing your hands above your head and pushing your tits out for him. God, it’s been forever since you’ve had anything inside you besides your own boring fingers, and you’re more than ready for him to take the straining bulge out of his pants and slip it into your perpetually aching cunt.

“Keep your hands above your head for me?” You can tell by his tone that it’s more of a demand than an ask, but at least he's trying to be sweet despite wrestling internally with some beast that wants to bind you immobile and shove a gag in your mouth.

Every hair stands on end at just the thrill of having his silky, non committed tie around your wrists, so you wonder how you’d fair in something stricter. Apparently, your vagina likes the theory of it, because she pulses insistently for some kind of attention—Jesus, any kind of attention that’s not just from you.

You and her may argue sometimes—much more now that Ludlow has kicked the imaginary door of your life down and stormed in for a raid—but you still share the same brain, and both of you agree that Julian is very fucking hot while he takes off his upper attire to reveal toned, tight, thin muscle and perfect golden skin.

“Is there, um, anything you want me to call you?” You ask, little toes curling and flexing on his comforter.

“You want to properly address me?” His teeth peek out of the wayward grin, hands slipping the belt out of his pants and filling you with Tom thoughts again.

“Yeah, I do.”

“How about Doctor? Something familiar?”

“Something tells me you’ve thought of this scenario before,” you muse, toying with the wrought iron post of his bed. You have to admit, Doctor isn’t your favorite term of endearment, but you suppose that if it makes him fuck you sooner it doesn’t really matter.

Sans pants, his cock tents and fills his briefs, and that tiny creature living inside you comes out of her burrow to remind you that she’s very, very hungry. He really is a gorgeous specimen of a man. You could probably find his mimic in a museum statue or erotic magazine with only one huge, girthy difference.

How the fuck is that monster not going to hurt you after years of only having your own little fingers for comparison?

“Jesus,” you breathe, unaware that you say it out loud at first.

He pumps his hand once or twice over the silk coated shaft, showing off that big, beautiful cock and rubbing a bead of pearly cum over the tip. “Hands above your head, y/n, and don’t make me say it a third time.”

You bite your lip hard to keep from groaning in protest and place those conniving, sneaky limbs up above you again. “Yes, Doctor.” It would sound strange to you if you had any common sense right now—if your brain wasn’t currently leaking out of your cunt.

A little piece of you—actually and worryingly it’s more than just a little piece—wants to challenge him to see exactly what he’ll do.

“Do you want me to tell you what I wanted to do to you when you disobeyed my orders?”

“Spank me?” You ask, words too bold for how you’re feeling—how your whole body is overflowing with burning, bashful blood and sinking into the cushion of his bed to hide.

He laughs, low and wicked, and shakes his head. At least you get a little needy grumble from him, although you’re not sure if that’s because he’s stroking his cock or not. “No, not spank you. I think you’d enjoy that too much.”

“Then what?” You raise your chin a little bit, and the look he pins you with reminds you of what wild horses must see in the person’s eyes that wants to ride and break and domesticate them. A little panic alarm lights up your brain, and it gets louder the more he talks.

“Instead of rubbing these tired, sore feet, I would have gotten a thin piece of finished wood and whipped them with it.”

Your toes instantly curl and tuck in defense, heels digging into the bed to shy away from his mean words. “I don’t know if I’d like that,” you admit.

“That’s the point of a punishment, little girl. You’re not supposed to like it.” Julian transforms into something scary for the first time, and you think this might be that dominant side of him coming to bat again. You don’t really like it when he’s all business no play, void of jokes and grins, snarling like a rabid jaguar.

“Julian, I don’t think I’m comfortable with that. It scares me.”

His ferocity goes limp right along with his dick, and the sight of that makes you want to scream and cry and pound your fists on the floor like a tantrum throwing child. Your vagina, who was just minutes ago getting along with you, once again wants you dead.

Dr. Jekyll sits beside you on the bed and puts a soothing, heating pad hand on your belly. “I’m sorry, are you alright? I shouldn’t have gone into that so fast. I got carried away. It’s been a while.”

Although his apology is warranted, and what he says is true about going too far, that caretaker in your blood wants nothing more than to soothe him while he has a mini existential crisis about making you feel uncomfortable. You sit up and rub his shoulders with bound hands.

“Julian, it’s okay. I get it. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for,” he replies, combing a hand through his soft hair. “We should have discussed details before jumping in. I just”—he cups your cheek and kisses your head—“I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

The thought of having to go through a detailed discussion before having sex with your partner every time has the opposite effect of Tom Ludlow’s—fuck, here he is again—spontaneity and makes your pussy dry up.

As though he senses you’re about to take your teeth to his very nice silk tie, he turns to unbind your hands with one deft pull. You feel fine, but you can’t stop yourself from rubbing your wrists. You sit there in the quiet together for what feels like a long time, your head resting lightly on his shoulder.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” He takes your hand, kissing your palm. “That thing I told you? It’s not something I offer up freely to anyone. Not even my playmates.”

You nod against him. “I understand.”

“I just…wanted you to know me.”

The human need to lay yourself bare in the hopes of acceptance is something you understand all too well—and something you never do anymore, because it just always ends badly. That he wanted you that much squeezes your heart in a merciless fist, because the healer in you wants to help him, but you’re not sure you can give this man what he really needs.

“Did you…want me before I talked back to you?” Suddenly the question is burning in your brain and you have to know.

Julian smirks at that. “You’ve always talked back to me, y/n.” With that he kisses your forehead, and starts to get dressed again.

What a goddamned shame.

It’s totally not helpful, but you can’t stop yourself from thinking that if Tom had you in this position tonight, you wouldn’t be able to walk right, and not because you’d said the wrong thing and got yourself punished with a sliver of wood or whatever the fuck Julian kept in his closet.

You wouldn’t be going home feeling even emptier than when you arrived.

Maybe, you wouldn’t be going home at all.

Julian asks you to stay with him a while longer to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie—some cheap new thriller that makes you both jump and gasp. It’s sort of funny, to watch the man that was just spouting off his desire to use ancient torture methods on you get scared at a guy with a shiny knife popping out of bushes.

At one point, while you’re laying on his bare chest and inhaling the citrusy sweat of his skin and becoming increasingly warm to the idea of giving his discarded silky tie another try, you start tracing your fingers down the hard line of his stomach, flicking over the elastic of his thin sweatpants.

He stalls your movement, and looks down at you apologetically. “Not tonight, honey.”

You know he was just fiending for your bound form with his dick in his hand, so you’re not sure why he’s stopping you, but your woe-is-me brain immediately, and as usual, jumps to the conclusion that he never wanted you in the first place.

You will not be the giving tree anymore. You will not be the obsessed, lovesick girl willing to do anything just to get that same love back. You won’t—you can’t—do it again.

“It’s late,” you sigh, sitting up. You’ve long sobered from dinner, and you’re tired, and you kind of want to be alone so you can go home and cry. “Thank you for dinner.” You’re not so sure about the rest, and in the rueful curl of Julian’s lips you can tell he’s well aware how disappointing all this was. For both of you, you suppose. He kisses you goodnight at the door, and you get in your car to drive home.

#tom ludlow x reader #street kings #tom ludlow #keanuverse fic #keanuverse

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