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#Me and him were talking about books for a while
gay-dorito-dust · 3 days
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Hey um if it's cool could I request, Welt, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gallager and Aventurine reacting to reader to questioning their interest in them?
An example: The confession
Them: I have feelings for you Reader: ... Um *shocked*.. I feel the same but.. *trails off* Them: but? Reader: *squints* you sure? About me? Please reconsider your choice. Them: ...
thank you if you decide to do this! No pressure though!
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Jing yuan would raise a brow before vaguely asking you to come with him somewhere he had been meaning to show you for a while and thought that now was the perfect time.
The place where he takes you was just like any other flower garden you’ve been to before but from the way the light glinted off of the waters surface, to the way the flowers blossomed in a variety of unique colours, and other small things like that made the flower garden look ethereal.
Jing yuan chuckled at your expression.
‘You see why I brought you here?’ He asks.
‘…no, not really, why?’ You replied, looking at him in confusion.
‘I’m trying to show you that while you may not think yourself as anything special, much like this flower garden, there are a multitude of unique things tailored to you that make you shine in the eyes of the ones who views you highly.’ He responded as he lends his hand out for a bird to perch on and softly smiled as it moved up to his shoulder where it sat comfortably, trying its hardest not to fall asleep.
‘For every flower is a beauty to behold regardless of their shapes, their size or their colour that even a daffodil can be considered of equal beauty of a roses in someone’s eyes.’ Jing Yuan continues, looking at you from the corner of his eye to see whether his words were sinking in. ‘And my flower believes themself to be a withering daffodil but to me, they’re a rose unlike any other. Stubborn, strong willed, but.’
‘But?’ You echoed, nervousness creeping through your veins as Jing Yuan moved in front of you and leant forward so that he was right next to your ear.
‘But they refuse to accept words of their worth and beauty from someone who cares about them very much, but I hope to change that soon enough, if they let me.’ He whispers as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulling away to plant a kiss to your forehead.
Dan heng
While he’s happy that you felt the same way towards him, but felt his heart sink when you told him to reconsider his feelings for you.
‘If you are not ready for a relationship, then I understand, but I wish that you wouldn’t look down upon yourself when you’re anything but what your mind is telling you that you are.’ He says as he holds your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes shone with concern. ‘Just know that I’ll always be by your side to resolve any issue you may have, for I do not wish for you to be burdened by this alone when I can help lessen it’s impact on you.’ He adds.
Dan Heng would do anything and everything in his power to make you see just how much you meant to him, even if it meant asking March to pull up pictures where his infatuation with you was glaringly obvious.
He would bring you poetry books and read out verses that perfectly describe his innermost thoughts and feelings towards you and how he views you on a daily basis. Dan Heng feels as though he could never convey just how truly unique and magnificent you were on his own. He’s tried but compared to the works of acclaimed poets, it just lacked fluidity in terms of the flow of words.
Everything else fades away when you entered his peripheral vision, almost as though he was made to notice your presence no matter where you were, only to just stare at you with a look that could only be akin to someone who had just found their other half after so long.
Welt would sit you down somewhere and want to talk about it because he truly didn’t think that these were your own words coming from your mouth.
He believes they were someone else’s and he hated that you had started believing this person’s words as reality, when they were the furthest thing from the truth in his eyes.
He wants to help you unlearn what everybody else has thought of you in the past because it doesn’t matter, their words hold no weight until you allow it to. No one’s perception of you was in any way shape or form a reflection of the real you, for every person you’ve ever had a positive effect on posses a different perceptions of you.
The only person who knew the real you was you but it was obvious to Welt that you might’ve forgotten who that version of you was by worrying yourself to death about the thoughts and opinions of everyone else. So Welt was more then happy to help you see that you were so much more then what you think.
He doesn’t know who wronged you in the past but they’ve left everlasting damage on your tender soul, but he was going to do everything he could in his power to show you the you that he sees every time upon seeing you.
Gallagher
‘I’ve got nothing to reconsider when it comes to you sweetheart.’ Gallagher was quick to tell you as he grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘But-‘ you started.
‘No ifs, ands or buts.’ He interrupts you. ‘You’re prefect the way you are and I won’t hear otherwise because I’ll always go out of my way to remind you as to why i care about you, okay?’ He says as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. ‘Just let me take care of you and get rid of those pesky thoughts residing in your head by telling them to fuck off.’
You couldn’t help but chuckle at this as you allowed yourself to find comfort in Gallagher’s side as you were greeted by his bodily warmth that made you into melting further against him. ‘I just don’t want to be a bother to you that’s all.’ You murmured, insecurity making your throat tightened, rendering it hard to swallow.
Gallagher felt his heart break for you as he brought his arms to your waist to rub soothing patterns into your side as he presses his face to the side of your head, pressed reassuring kisses there as he whispered sweet nothings as to why you were perfect, beautiful, sweet and caring of all whom you come across, whether they were deserving of it or not.
Aventurine
He understands more then you knew because the moment you admitted to liking him in the same breath as berating yourself, he was about to ask what was it about him that you liked exactly.
You were both in the same boat that was about to capsize from your shared self hatred for yourselves, but Aventurine would be damned if he let you think of yourself in any negative light when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of pure, genuine light for him since first introductions.
He’d much rather be the one drowning in self doubt than you.
He’d have you stand in front of a mirror and asks what you see.
‘Someone who’s lost themselves along the way,’ you answered solemnly, ‘someone who’s lost sight of who they once were because they were too caught up in the opinions of others and waiting on them hand and foot, only to revive nothing but scraps.’ You added and Aventurine couldn’t help but feel himself becoming infuriated, not at you but at the people who have made you feel as though you were lesser than, who made you feel as though you should be outcasted because you didn’t fit into their narrative.
However the sound of your sniffling brought him out of his need to get back at these people for you and saw that you were beginning to tear up and was quick to wipe them away before they fell. ‘Don’t weep for people who don’t have a heart, for they’ll always think themselves superior by materialistic means that they will inevitably loose to time and bad decisions.’ He tells you as he rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirrors reflective surface. ‘You on the other hand have something that they could never hope to obtain via money.’ He adds.
‘And what’s that?’ You asked, looking into his eyes and noting that despite their dullness, they were still the most beautiful and expressive pair of eyes you have ever seen.
‘Empathy, humility, compassion, kindness and an appreciation for the simple things that many overlook and possess the ability to see the beauty in broken things.’ Aventurine replies, his voice becoming soft towards the end, clearly referring to himself, as he held onto you tighter as though you’d slip from his grasp much like everyone else had. ‘So don’t compare yourself to others who should be looking towards you as an example instead.’
You moved your head to properly look at him, not use to seeing this side of him, so serious and determined to make you see reason. ‘You really mean that?’
Aventurine smiles as he kisses you on the nose, chuckling. ‘Of course! You’re my good luck charm, I’d be hopeless and in a whole lot of trouble without you.’ He says as he presses another kiss to your nose, adoring your expression as you scrunched up your face, muttering under his breath. ‘Cute.’
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Snuggle Bug
Toji Fushiguro
AO3 :)
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just toji being soft and domestic, thats it ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
~2k
SFW but minors still shoo
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It isn't hard to make assumptions about Toji with just one look.
With his imposing frame riddled with pounds of muscles, enough scars to rival any war hero, and an expression that screams I don’t tolerate nonsense, ever on his face, most people steer clear of him. 
There isn’t much merit in thinking so, but so many easily peg him as a douche, an asshole, a womanizer—someone that probably has the worst opinion on anything ever. 
While Toji has definitely judged more than one book by their cover, only sparing something a glance for no longer than a second before deciding whether or not it would be worth his time, he’s more than happy he was a book you were willing to read.
He still remembers having to build up the courage to ask you out on a date.
Every week he would treat Megumi to a few new books, and low and behold on a calm Sunday afternoon the sweet old manager was showing you the ropes on the cash register. 
He was enchanted by your smile, the natural grace that you had, the zest for life that you conveyed just through your love of reading. At first it was innocent, Toji being just as excited as Megumi for the weekly trip to the bookstore, flying to the children’s section to see if you had any exciting news on any new releases. There was even the time where you decided to do an impromptu story time just for Megumi because it was a slow day.
After that, Toji had to admit that he did get a bit more greedy, making more frequent trips to the bookstore and flashing you a crooked smile when you would look for the bite sized version of him. “Just me,” he’d laugh, hoping that crimson wasn’t painting his cheeks.
When people say expect the unexpected you always thought it was referring to something completely drastic, like seeing actual pigs fly or winning the lottery. Not seeing this big, burly man scratching the back of his neck and blushing while he waited for you to say something, but you couldn’t complain. You simply smiled at him and said, “Well you can read at a higher level than Megumi, right? Let me show you some other books.”
As the weeks went by, Toji was spending more time (and money—but you did give him your employee discount out of the kindness of your shining heart) at the bookstore, whether or not he had Megumi with him. 
“I put something else in the bag.” A cheeky smile that he couldn’t quite decipher was on your face as you pushed his purchase toward him.
He thanked you and was fighting every single urge not to pounce on the bag the moment he stepped out the door. The bit of self control he was able to maintain allowed him to wait until he got to the car, seeing a slip with your number scrawled on it right on top of the books he just bought.
He never felt nervous about making a phone call before that night, but every bit of tension eased from his body when your bright cadence filled his ears over the speaker.
Soon the two of you were texting good morning and good night here and there, the occasional how is your day going. It was far from that though. After a few weeks you were moving on to talking about new shipments of books, mentions of family, future plans. It became routine for both of you to talk on the phone nightly. Even if it was a day that he visited the bookstore, the true cherry on top of the cake was drifting off to sleep with the sound of your voice in his ears.
It only seemed natural for him to ask you out and make you his.
Being with Toji provides you with comfort and security not even money can buy. No one dares to cat call you with Toji by your side.
There’s something just so entertaining about seeing one of the people you adore the most making others cower in fear with just a simple glance, like having a big, vicious dog that growls at everyone in public but snuggles up to you in private.
And when it comes to snuggling, Toji is well versed in that department.
See, he doesn’t really believe in personal space; he can never be too close to you. 
If you’re washing dishes in the kitchen, his arms are wrapping around your waist, bending his head so it's resting in the crook of neck, sighing contentedly as he breathes in your scent.
Sitting on the couch? He’s scooching as close as possible next to you, entwining his fingers with yours, not even looking at whatever is on the television. He damn near crawled in your lap a few times, arguing that it was much more comfortable for him despite your legs screaming in protest.
He doesn’t even care if you’re in the shower, sitting on the toilet seat and waiting until you finish. His go to is usually getting in the shower with you, withstanding the boiling hot water you somehow consider an appropriate temperature. He had to build up his tolerance, feeling like his skin was going to melt off his body if he stayed there longer than five minutes. This would only make you laugh and say, “Toji, stop torturing yourself. I’ll be out soon.” He’d just grunt and give you that pouty face that makes you dab a kiss to his nose.
If you’re taking a bath, he used to drag a chair out from the dining room, but ended up buying a cozy bean bag just to make himself more comfortable and accompany you.
Much like a big dog though, Toji’s spatial awareness seems to be a bit... Lacking.
He doesn’t mean it, you know he doesn’t, but there are times when you swear he is trying to decimate you with the weight of his body.
Especially nights like tonight when he’s coming home late from work. 
Megumi already ate the dinner you made and has been fully entertained by a movie you watched together. Once you made sure he was snuggled in bed with his two favorite stuffed animals, the only thing left to do is wait for Toji to get home.
His job can be pretty unpredictable, leaving him coming home at late hours when the only thing he wants to do is be by your side, feeling the softness and the heat of your body while he closes his eyes and melds into you. 
His stomach is rumbling, screaming for sustenance. When he walks through the door he knows there’s going to be a plate of food already made for him, just waiting to be heated up, but eating is far from being the first thing on his mind. 
Instead he cracks open Megumi’s door first, a small smile forming on his face when he sees his little form tucked in, arms wrapped around those stuffed dogs while his chest gently rises and falls. He closes the door behind him, making the few steps to the bedroom that he shares with you.
It was obvious you tried your best to stay up and wait for him, indicative by the bedside lamp still being on and the book laying facedown on your lap. Though your thrown back head, the bit of drool leaking from the side of your mouth, and soft snores coming from your body shows your efforts were unfortunately in vain.
This just adds to the smile on his face, silently slinking back out of the room so he can eat and take a shower. You’re still blissfully asleep once he emerges from his shower. He carefully opens the dresser, opting for just a pair of boxer briefs.
He turns off the bedside light and carefully secures the place in your book with the bookmark you left next to you on the bed. 
Despite his attempts at being gentle, the bed always creaks beneath his weight when he gets on it. The sound isn’t quite enough to wake you, only stirring a bit in your sleep.
With himself securely in the bed he moves in closer calling your name gently. Still, you only stir, murmuring out something unintelligible while your head turns to the side slightly.
He takes the opportunity to lay his head on your chest, listening to the soft beating of your heart while his fingers are drumming lightly against your stomach. The feeling always makes him melt, indulging in every pliant dip and curve of your body, the velvety texture of your skin such a contrast to the calluses and roughness of his own. 
It isn’t long before his hands are exploring, moving down to caress the swell of your hips and making their way back up to feel the dip in your waist. All the while his head stays on your chest, as if his skull is a sword that will do anything imaginable to defend your heart.
He stays like this for a while, the thumping of your heart serving as his own personal white noise, the sensation of your skin beneath his touch alleviating all the stress of work.
“Mmm,” you groan, slowly opening your eyes only to be greeted by darkness and consumed by heat. “Toji.”
At the sound of your voice he slowly opens his eyes, immediately pulling you closer to him and panting a slew of kisses on your cheek. “You were sleeping when I got in,” he murmurs against your cheek, plopping another kiss there. “Didn’t want to wake you up.”
You’re not sure what time you fell asleep, but tap the screen on your phone, squinting at the harshness of its brightness. It’s a bit past four in the morning now, rain beating down gently against the windows.
“Like you’ve cared about waking me up before,” you laugh gently, playfully rolling over to escape both his hold and the slobbery kisses he insists on planting on you.
“Come here.” A fit of giggles leaves your lips as you continue rolling over, just out of reach every time he tries to wrap his arm around you again. He lets you have it for a few more moments, letting you tire yourself until you’re completely breathless with laughter. Like a tiger waiting to strike he ambushes you, caging your body between his arms and letting his weight settle on top of you.
“Toji!” You try your best to contain your squeal knowing Megumi is sleeping just beyond the thin walls.
“What?” His voice is muffled as his head takes refuge in the crook of your neck, his lips pressing softly against the sensitive skin there. He feels your pulse quicken every time his lips brush against your skin. “I missed you.” 
No matter how many jokes you make about canceling his gym membership or making sure he never has another protein shake again you wouldn’t trade the feeling of this for anything. One hand rubs small circles into his back while the other snakes around to the nape of his neck. He nuzzles further into your neck, humming with satisfaction when your fingers thread through hair and delicately massage his scalp.
“I missed you, too.” He doesn’t say anything, but you feel the curve of his lips against your neck as his arms maneuver beneath you, cradling your body tight.  
The warmth of his embrace quickly lulls you back into a state of unconsciousness, only willing for the serenity to end when you wake up, ready to appreciate him with bright eyes, marking another day together.
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redtsundere-writes · 2 days
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sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33
Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen
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king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader
Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.
Beginning. ← Previous |
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Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining. 
Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing. 
You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked. 
“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire. 
Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef. 
“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him. 
After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence. 
“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him. 
“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture. 
Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. 
“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity. 
Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do? 
“Yes,” you answered with a smile. 
That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that. 
“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you. 
“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down. 
Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it. 
“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.
“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be. 
Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions. 
This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so. 
Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.
“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square. 
Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble. 
“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king. 
At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.
Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts. 
“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up. 
“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king. 
“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king. 
“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started. 
There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade. 
Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.  
“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology. 
“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction. 
Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them. 
“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed. 
“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room. 
Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.
“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move. 
“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle. 
“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat. 
“She has potential.” 
“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement. 
“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently. 
Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that. 
The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table. 
“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question. 
“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.
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Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.
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Masterlist.
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OLD GRUDGES (part 3)
A/N: i know it took me way longer than it should have, but at last im here with the next part and that's what matters, right? thank you for the support on the prev parts, hope you'll enjoy this just as much!
WORD COUNT: 4.3k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
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Meetings never really excited Harry, but lately, they have been his favorite along with studio sessions. Because these were the times he always got to see Y/N. 
Today he is going in with her favorite cookies in his bag that he picked up on his way, taking a detour just to drop by that one place she loves the most. It’s been a recurring thing for Harry, picking up a cup of coffee for her, buying her favorite snacks for their sessions or surprising her with lunch from that taco place she adores so much. He’s been doing practically anything to get a smile on her face because he feels like that’s the only thing he is destined to do. 
He’s been ignoring the fact that her time working on the project ends in two weeks, according to the contract. The only chance to stretch it longer if the required songs are not finished, but they are all practically done at this point. Harry tries his best not to think of what it will be like when he doesn’t get to see her as often as he does now. 
The meeting was scheduled only yesterday, so Harry has no idea what it is about, but it doesn’t really matter, they are supposed to record afterwards, so he only cares about spending more time with Y/N. 
However, the smile fades when he walks into the room and doesn’t see her. It’s odd, she is usually there before him, but now it’s just a couple of the studio engineers, Niall, Liam and Blake, the kind of weird manager from Modest who’s been working with them since they started recording for Midnight Memories. Harry has been getting these eerie vibes from him, but he just can’t put his finger on it, so he’s been sucking it up and ignoring it. He gave no reason not to be trusted so far. 
“Hey, what’s up?” Harry greets everyone walking into the room. 
“Ah, Harry! You’re here!” Blake smiles and they shake hands before Harry settles in a chair. “I was just telling the boys what this meeting is about. Good news, you are set for another album after Midnight Memories is released!”
It’s no surprise, to be honest. One album after the other, the pace has been just like that for a while. 
“Great,” he nods. “Do we know who we’re gonna work with?”
Blake then hands him a paper with a list of names and some other details. Harry runs over the names, looking for a particular one, but it’s not there.
“What about Y/N?” he asks.
“Ah, I wanted to tell you guys. She got another project kind of last minute, so she is done with the album for now and won’t be able to join for the next one, it seems like,” Blake explains casually and it doesn’t stand out to anyone else either, but it hits Harry in the chest pretty hard.
She is done with the album? Why didn’t she say anything? They talked on the phone just two days ago, why didn’t she even mention it?
And why isn’t she gonna work on the next album? Harry doubts she is booked that far ahead, she is just getting recognized in the industry and she told him herself she is living from one project to the other, works on the next album won’t start at least until they start touring Midnight Memories.
It’s not adding up, but on the other hand… Harry has no right to question her. Even despite how close he’s been getting to her, they are still just… coworkers. Friends. 
But nothing more. 
“Alright, now that we are talking about the next album, I have a little sneak peek of a song that could be a big hit!” Blake seems enthusiastic as he opens his laptop and then soon a demo starts playing, but Harry can’t really focus, he is too stuck on the fact that he has no more time left with Y/N. He even pulls out his phone, ready to text her and ask her how all of this happened, but then talks himself down. When he finally starts to listen to the song, it sounds familiar at first, but there are no lyrics and Harry often finds random songs familiar lately, because he just hears so many new melodies on a daily basis, they tend to blend together. 
“You like it?” Blake asks him and Harry just nods.
“Yeah. What is it called?”
Blake smiles confidently as he shuts the laptop down.
“Night Changes.”
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The weather is finally good enough for grilling and the rowland household would take an opportunity anytime for that. Filling up their backyard with the people they love the most and feeding them burgers, hotdogs or basically anything Mitch is able to throw onto the grill. They usually have a gathering like this every month if their schedule and the weather allows. 
Now it’s finally the first official grill party of the year. 
Harry is sat outside by one of the tables, his plate is empty by now, but he knows he’ll get another round at one point. Cards are scattered on the tabletop, along with glasses of lemonade and beer, the kids are playing in the back somewhere by the treehouse, everything feels and looks idyllic.
For the past about two hours Harry couldn’t stop looking for Y/N. Stealing glances when she was talking to Sarah or playing with the kids, trying not to ogle her too obviously when she was laughing at something at the other table. He wanted to walk up to her a thousand times already, but he is trying to act cool and figure out how to act when there are other people around. 
It’s an unknown territory for sure. 
When Harry sees her walking towards the house he just can’t stay put. Excusing himself from the group he tries his best not to look suspicious as he follows her inside. Once the sliding door is closed behind him he quickens his steps down the hallway towards the bathroom, guessing she went there, but as he is approaching the door he notices it’s closed.
Should he try his luck and open it? Or maybe knock? Or…
Suddenly, the lock rattles and the door moves the tiniest bit, light coming through the gap. His heart skips a beat as he leaps forward and pushes the door open more so he can step inside.
And there she is, standing by the sink, checking herself out in the mirror when Harry walks in and closes the door behind him. Then slowly, she turns her gaze to him, for the first time today and for a moment Harry thinks she might tell him to fuck off and get out, but when he sees her lips part, he knows what she wants.
Him.
They collide fast, their usual hunger for each other taking over in a heartbeat. Demanding kisses, rough touches, they both know they should be in a hurry, Harry can’t even remember if he locked the door, it would be rather awkward if someone walked in on them.
Especially because no one knows about them, or whatever is going on between them. 
It’s been over a week since the dinner party that ended up with the most confusing but also mind-blowingly amazing sex they have ever had. When it was over Harry simply left and kept to what she said, that they would not talk about it and that’s exactly what happened. They never talked about it, but it happened again. 
Twice since then. 
And now they are going at it again. 
“Fuck,” Harry growls into her mouth when she reaches into his pants with quick but confident moves, because it’s not the first time she is doing it and he can only hope it’s not the last either. 
“Quickly,” she pants and he just nods, bunching up her dress and tugging her underwear down. It’s no surprise he is already hard, following her inside was like a foreplay to him, the secrecy, the chance that she might tell him to fuck off, his pulse has been rising before he stepped into the bathroom. 
They moan together when he thrusts into her, but then he gets back to kissing her to keep their voice down as he starts moving. Usually, they don’t talk when they are having sex, but Harry feels like changing that up, trying out how she reacts to something different. 
“You knew I would come after you, huh?” he pants against her lips.
“I did,” she breathes out, one arm curled around his neck, her other hand gripping the edge of the sink to keep her balance. 
“You thought about me fucking you all day?”
To that, she doesn’t answer and Harry almost regrets opening his mouth, but then she looks at him and nods.
“I did,” she repeats herself and even cracks a smile before pulling him closer to kiss him hard. And just like that, a tightening but warm feeling spreads in his chest. 
They don’t need much time, Harry is the first to come and she follows soon right after. Her head falls against his chest , rising and falling with his deep breaths and he tries to fight the urge, but then gives in and bringing up a hand he runs his fingers through her hair. Part of him fears this move might be too intimate for her and that she’ll shake him off of her any moment, but it never happens and Harry enjoys it, probably way more than he should. 
They clean themselves up and soon it’s just the sparkle in their eyes that proves what they just did. 
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks, fixing her makeup in the mirror. 
“Are you asking me out or something?” Harry cheekily asks and she just smacks his chest playfully.
“I have some stuff I’ve been working on that I want to show you.”
Harry’s pulse fastens again. This is just like it was before, when it was just the two of them, sharing the songs they were working on. 
“I would love that,” he smiles at her, watching her walk to the door. 
“Alright. I’ll text you then.”
Y/N walks out and Harry knows they are back to not talking and for a second he wonders how long he’ll be able to keep going like this. 
When he walks out he is still deep in his thoughts, but then when he reaches the kitchen he comes to a halt, seeing Mitch by the kitchen island, sipping on some lemonade, a knowing look on his face.
“Hey man,” Harry clears his throat and joins him instead of walking outside.
“Hey. Everything alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Want to share why I just saw Y/N coming from the same direction as you just did?”
“Uh… you know, we just…”
Harry can’t quite find the right words, especially because he doesn’t like and can’t really lie to Mitch, but he also wants to keep the no talking rule. Mitch stares back at him with a blank face for a second, but then his eyes go wide.
“No way.”
“What?” Harry laughs.
“For real?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You and… you and Y/N?”
Harry doesn’t answer, but that’s quite the answer to Mitch.
“Oh my God, how long has this been going on?”
“Keep it down!” He hushes his friend. “It’s… it’s nothing official or anything.”
“But it is something, right? What is it?”
Harry once again just stays silent.
“You two are having sex?” More silence. “Oh my God! Did you just do it in the bathroom?!”
“Shh!” Harry tries to shush him again, but he also can’t hold back his smile, thinking about what just took place in that bathroom. 
“Harry, what the hell! When… How did that happen? You know what? I don’t want to know about that,” Mitch changes his mind quickly, making Harry laugh. “But like… what is it?”
“I told you, it’s nothing o–”
“No, I mean… what do you want it to be?”
Harry sighs as he turns so he can look out at the backyard through the sliding door. And there she is, with a glass in her hand as she is talking to Sarah, laughing at something and Harry wishes he knew what it was. 
“I just… I like her. A lot.”
“But you two had been hating each other passionately, what happened to that?”
“I think we took the passionately part and turned it into something else,” Harry smirks cheekily, his eyes still glued to her figure outside. 
“Oh my God, you are so gone for her,” Mitch breathes out, shaking his head. “You’re falling for her!”
Harry turns back to Mitch and hesitates before speaking up.
“I already fell for her. When we worked together years ago. But then she basically disappeared and when we met again, she acted like I was her mortal enemy,” Harry chuckles. Calling himself the enemy sounds ridiculous, but it’s the most fitting he could say. “And now…” he hums, but doesn’t finish his thought out loud.
“And now you’re falling for her again?”
“I might be,” he nods.
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The Sun has set, but the party's still going. Well, it’s not raging, some of the people who came with kids have left and Scout has been put down by Mitch as well, but a handful of guests are still out on the terrace, playing card games and sharing stories. 
Y/N sits right across from Harry and he has noticed the change. She is losing her cold act towards him, slowly but surely. They can finally talk and joke around almost like back in the days. Harry however doesn’t want to let himself go deeper than he should, he knows he is on an unstable field with her and he feels like it all could snap any moment, but…
It feels so amazing.
Making her laugh, sharing knowing looks, teasing each other like old friends, Harry missed being like this. 
When he notices that she’s probably cold his first thought is to offer his hoodie, but he is quick to stop himself, he’s sure it might be too much at once so he instead just asks around who needs a blanket as he is heading inside anyway so he can easily grab a few. 
But then as the night comes to an end, he still decides to try and dance around the unsaid boundaries.
“Hey, I just ordered a car, added your address as well.” Harry tells her when he sees her open the Uber app on her phone.
“Ah, no need, I can just–”
“Already ordered it,” he insists, hoping she’ll accept it and luckily, it seems like she is not in the mood to argue. 
The car ride is quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. She is on her phone, reading what seems like emails to Harry and he notices the change in her instantly.
“Everything alright?”
She looks up with a frown and then sighs, locking her phone. 
“Just work. I have this annoying assistant, called Daryl up in my ass on another project, he is trying to get me to give way more than I’m obligated to. I don’t even know who his boss is, the damn guy is like a mystery for some reason.”
“Like, they want more music from you?”
“Yes,” she nods. “They want to listen to stuff I’m working on in case something fits the album, but I’ve already delivered what I was paid for.”
Although he is eager to know more, to offer his help, he stays silent, staying within the boundaries this time, not pushing his luck even more. It’s a miracle itself that she even said this much about anything personal. 
“So tomorrow?” Y/N asks when the car stops in front of her house. Harry looks at her and for a moment, all he can think about is the last time they were here like this. 
“Yeah, I’m free,” he manages to speak up, snapping out of his memories.
“I’ll text you. Bye then,” she nods before climbing out of the car and heading towards her front door. Harry watches her for a bit before he tells the driver to leave. 
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She still hasn’t texted him. It’s four in the afternoon and he hasn’t heard of her since she got dropped off last night. 
He was up early, went for a run, because he definitely needed to put his extra energy into something instead of continuously checking his phone, hoping for a text to pop up. Then he grabbed himself a bagel on the way back, brewed a coffee when he got home and had his breakfast while staring at his phone like a sore loser. 
He took that damn phone everywhere he went. Literally everywhere. But the hours passed by and he got no sign and at first he just thought she got busy with something, but by the time he was done with lunch, it turned into a worry. 
She was as punctual as one could get and she would have already texted him by now, even if it was just about that she is running late with whatever she was doing. A decent session lasts at least three or four hours and she is not one to pull an allnighter.
He has kept ordering himself to be patient all day, but now he lost the last bits of his bearing. At last he decides a text is fine, she can answer whenever it’s convenient. 
HARRY: Hey, are we still up for a sesh? 
He keeps the conversation open and watches his message sit there, its status staying delivered for what feels like forever. Then, about twenty minutes later, it changes to read and the three dots start dancing at the bottom of the screen as Harry’s heart threatens to jump right out of his chest. He knows he is acting ridiculously, but he pushes the thought to the back of his head for now. 
The dots then disappear, but no message arrives. A minute goes by and they reappear and this time a gray bubble follows.
Y/N: I got a bit of a situation on my hands rn.
Then a photo pops up of her house with two police cars parked at the front and Harry’s stomach drops.
HARRY: I’m going over.
He sends the message before he could even think it through and he is already out the door by the time she reads his reply. 
When he arrives one of the police cars is still there and Y/N is out front, talking to an officer. She is lacking her usual on-spot style, wearing a baggy sweat set, her hair in a state of mess he has never seen before, but even despite the worried expression on her face, she looks annoyingly beautiful. 
She spots him as he gets out of his car, crossing the lawn with a slow jog.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, on the verge of losing his marbles if he doesn’t find out what happened immediately.
“Give me a minute,” she tells him, turning back to the officer. “Thank you for everything. I’ll let you know if I find anything that’s missing.”
“Take care, Miss. We’ll have a car patrol around the neighborhood every hour for the next 24 hours, though it’s unlikely they will come back.”
With a nod, the officer walks over to the car, gets in and they drive away.
“What the hell happened?” Harry asks when Y/N finally turns to him.
“Someone broke into my house,” she says and then just simply heads back inside. Harry jogs after her. 
“What? When?” 
Y/N is walking straight to her kitchen and Harry follows her, locking the front door behind him. 
“I went to a yoga class in the morning. When I came back, I noticed my lock was picked and the door was open.” 
Harry watches her rummage through a cabinet before grabbing a bottle of tequila along with two glasses. She shoots a questioning look to him, to which he just nods, though he is still lost, confused and kind of angry. She pours a generous amount into both glasses and then hands one over to Harry before chugging hers down faster than ever. 
“Did anything go missing?”
“Literally nothing,” she laughs bitterly. “Everything seems untouched and I just don’t understand it at all. Why would someone break in if they don’t take anything valuable?”
“Money? Jewelry? Everything is here?”
“Everything. I checked everything.”
Harry is now just as clueless as Y/N. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s also somehow even worse. Whoever broke in had a reason to, but it’s completely hidden for now. 
When she reaches for the bottle again he notices how much her hands are shaking. She is a nervous wreck. 
“Hey, you don’t want to lose your rationality right now,” Harry softly warns her as he grabs her hand and stops her from pouring another one. 
“I’m fucking terrified, Harry,” she admits, her voice shakes and so weak like never before. Harry’s heart breaks for her. “Have you ever felt unsafe in your own home?”
“I have,” Harry answers without hesitation and that’s when she finally looks him in the eyes again. “I had a few stalkers throughout the years and attempted break-ins.”
And just like that, something changes in her. The last bits of the wall she so carefully built up between the two of them are destroyed and she lets him see her fully and so naked emotionally. Her lips tremble, tears dwell in her eyes and just as the first sob breaks out of her chest, he is pulling her into his embrace. 
For a second Harry thinks it might be just luck, that she is only opening up to him like this because he is the one who is physically here with her, but he then wipes this thought and just focuses on being the support she truly needs. 
He holds her tight as she cries into his chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head until she calms down and regains control over her breathing. 
“Pack a bag for a few days, stay at mine for a bit, okay?” he softly says when she finally pulls back, just enough to look at him. She doesn’t try to put up a fight, just nods and lets him walk her up to her bedroom. 
He helps her pack, she grabs the clothes while Harry packs her laptop and chargers. Half an hour later they are getting into his car before heading over to Harry’s place. The car ride is silent and Harry doesn’t even try to talk her through it. He knows how important it is to let her find her own peace in this situation instead of trying to just temporarily divert her attention. 
It’s actually her first time at his place, so she is curiously examining the place when they finally arrive. Harry shows her around quickly and then they reach the bedrooms upstairs.
“Choose a bedroom, personally my favorite is that one,” he smiles softly, pointing at the one next to his own bedroom. She walks closer and peeks inside, then into his bedroom and he watches her patiently.
“Can I… sleep with you?”
Her request surprises him, but he would be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t hoping for it. 
“Sure, of course,” he nods and gestures for her to walk inside. 
He sets down her bag to the ottoman at the end of his king sized bed while she looks around. Harry grabs a towel for her from the closet and hands it over to her.
“Take a shower, I’ll make tea for you, how does that sound?”
She just nods, holding the towel to her chest and he can’t believe how vulnerable she looks. The Y/N he’s known for the past few months is nothing like the woman standing in front of him right now. 
“Alright, then I’ll…” 
He clears his throat and then turns around to give her privacy, but he doesn’t even get to take a step before she grabs his hand and pulls him back. He opens his mouth to ask what else she needs, but he is met with her lips pressing against his, hard and needy and he wastes no time to return the kiss just as passionately. His arms curl around her tightly, like an armor, ready to protect her from anything and everything. 
They stumble into the bathroom and she pulls away, just enough so that she can start stripping out of her clothes, but Harry stops for a minute before things get too heated too fast.
“Wait, are you… Today was a lot, are you sure you… want to…?”
“I’m sure. I need this,” she nods and even though she appears just as vulnerable as before, there’s some kind of strong will mixed in her state now. Harry stares back at her, looking for any kind of sign that this might be a bad idea, but then she adds: “I need you.”
And Harry knows in that moment that he would give her anything in this world, because he fell for her again, but this time, it’s nothing like he has ever felt before.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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cevansbrat0007 · 2 days
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Hello, Duchess
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Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
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Ari’s P.O.V.
“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.
‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.
In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”. 
Well, that couldn’t be right. 
He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day. 
While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail. 
Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.
Just in case.
“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”
“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store. 
“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”
“That means get out!”
“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!” 
“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”
“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”
While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last. 
Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.
Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.
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Your P.O.V
“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read. 
“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you. 
And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh. 
“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him. 
If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right? 
“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”
Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school. 
“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”
You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else. 
“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”
“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?” 
“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.
Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”  
“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”
“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”  
Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”
You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled. 
“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.” 
“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”
“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.
“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye. 
“As much as I can be.” 
“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”
“Nope.”
He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked. 
“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”
“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”
And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.
“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.” 
“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs. 
“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”
In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?
“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.    
Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.   
“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”
Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten  seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.
“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.” 
“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.” 
And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back. 
“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal. 
Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.
“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”
Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts. 
Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy. 
But not now. 
Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.  
Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle. 
“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them. 
However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going. 
“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”
His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later: 
“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.
“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck. 
“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”
Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.
END 
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bloodsuckingfiends · 3 days
Note
not even going anon for this. horny on main always pls. offering a lil Rolan headcanon I've been stewing on recently. I plan to make something of it eventually, but perhaps you can drabble from it now to sate me :)
Rolan is usually one to prefer softer sex - unending eye contact, kisses, more "romantic" positions.
Tav finally convinces him to take her from behind, and he's hesitant at first - until the sight of him unleashes something filthy and primal within him. It's as if he snaps, quickly shifting from slow, hesitant movements to desperate thrusts filled with raw desire. Soft kisses along her neck turn into love nips and then full on mating bites as her hips arch back into his - yeah. Just full on, animalistic urges, breathy grunts in her ear, Rolan 🥲🥵
AHHHHH making a usually soft man absolutely feral? Yes please 🥵
From Behind
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It wasn’t that Tav was disappointed in her and Rolan's sex life. No it was quite the opposite actually. Rolan was a more than attentive lover, always taking into consideration Tav’s pleasure over his own. Always making sure that she reached her peak at least once before he even considered climbing towards his own.
Whilst in town one evening, shopping for a particular book, Tav had overheard a rather, intimate natured conversation that two women were whispering and giggling over.
“-from behind? And does it feel any different?”
“Oh quite! Much better if you ask me. Hits that spot almost every time.” The woman murmured to her friend whose face held utter astonishment.
“I’ll have to see if Maldor would be willing to try.”
Tav’s face blushed a deep color at the realization of just what the the two women had been chatting about. She quickly grabs what she was looking for, pays and leaves, face never changing shade from the deep flush from earlier.
Later that night, as Tav tucks into bed beside Rolan, and settles in to sleep, the wizard rolls over to pull her back against his chest like usual. Tav's breath hitches when his hips settle against her ass, her mind immediately shifting to what she had overheard at the shops.
"Are you alright?" Rolan leans up on his elbow, eyes looking over her to check for discomfort.
Tav startles at the sound of his almost gruff voice, "Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm alright."
"You're quite skittish, dear, did I do something to upset you?" the wizard gently pushes on her shoulder, getting her to roll over onto her back so he can get a good look at her face.
Her face which is flushed all over again, with eyes that are pointedly trying not to meet Rolan's.
Rolan moves his hand away from her shoulder, not wanting to cross any boundaries, even if he's unaware of any. Tav worries her bottom lip with her teeth, before meeting his concerned gaze.
"No, no you didn't do anything, my love. Just a long day is all." the lie leaves her mouth suspiciously quick, and Rolan notices the way she nervously swallows after speaking it.
"Tav, if you need your space, I am more than happy to give it to yo-"
"It's not that!" she cuts him off, "I just thought of something... specific, when you, well, you pressed against my ass."
The tiefling raises a brow at her, "What- Tav what are you talking about?" He's utterly confused at the way she's stumbling over her words over something so simple.
Tav sighs in defeat and avoids Rolan's gaze while speaking her next words, "While at the shop this evening, I overheard two women talking about their, well... intimate lives. And well, one of them mentioned how good it feels to be- well, to be taken from behind." She finishes and takes a breath before meeting his eyes once again.
"Is that something you'd like to try?" he asks so casually that it throws Tav off for a moment. Rolan was one who preferred more intimate positions, usually favoring missionary. He liked being able to watch Tav's features as they contorted with pleasure and reacted to his ministrations, liked being able to lock eyes with her as she came apart around him.
"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to it, I suppose. Only if you would be okay with it of cour-mmph." Rolan's lips meet Tav's in an abrupt kiss, affectively cutting off her anxious rambling.
"I am more than willing to try this with you, dear." he mumbles between kisses, his hand beginning to roam down her side to rest on her hip.
Tav deepens the kiss, tongue darting out to meet his, her hands coming up to rest on the ridged planes of his chest. Her fingers trace over the infernal ridges, before coming up to rest on his broad shoulders. She gasps into Rolan's mouth when she feels his fingers trail down her belly, toying at the edge of her panties, before dipping inside and gathering her wetness on his middle finger.
"So wet already. Just from the thought of me fucking you." he murmurs against her jaw, kissing along the bone.
"Please-" Tav begs. For what? She's not entirely sure.
"So needy." Rolan teases as he swipes his finger in little circles around her throbbing clit. His rhythm steady, his touch light. Tav's thighs tense, then instinctively fall open a bit more, the sensation almost too much.
"Want you to come for me before I fuck you from behind, can you do that for me?" he whispers against her lips, finger dipping to her fluttering hole, wetting itself to continue circling her.
"Mmhm." Tav whines desperately, her own fingers clasping around his forearm, already climbing to her peak. It's not long before her thighs begin to shake, her core clenching as she tumbles over the ledge. She throws her head back as Rolan finally dips two of his fingers into her spasming cunt. He fucks her through her orgasm, lips pressing wet kisses to her exposed throat, whispering praises against the taut skin.
"Always so good for me. Now I want you on your knees sweetheart." He holds a hand out for her to take as she lifts to her wobbly knees. As she kneels before him, he gets into position behind her.
One clawed hand traces up Tav's spine, making it's way up to the back of her neck to grip and push her down into place. Her elbows meet the mattress. A shocked sound huffs past Tav's lips, and Rolan's hands caress over her hips, kneading the plush flesh lovingly.
He reaches down, taking his length in hand, he drags the tip through her wet folds.
"Are you ready to take me, dear?" he asks lovingly, notching his head in her entrance. Tav nods, looking back over her shoulder to meet his amber gaze.
When he pushes into her, she gasps. The head of him instantly brushing against that sweet spot nestled deep inside her. Rolan bends forward, an arm scooping around Tav's middle to pull her up against his chest. His thrusts pick up speed, his hips rutting into her frantically.
"Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like this?" he almost hisses the words. The hand wrapped around Tav, gropes at her breasts, squeezing the flesh and teasing at her peaked nipples.
"Yes yes yes." Tav chants breathily as he relentlessly pounds into her g-spot. She can feel her second orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.
"Gonna fill you up like this. Gonna fill you with my cum." Rolan groans into her neck, his free hand coming up to rest on her belly. "I'm so close."
"Come in me. Please, I wanna feel you fill me." Tav whimpers, holding onto his forearms.
With a guttural moan, Rolan releases into Tav, his seed flooding her walls being the thing that triggers her own orgasm.
Rolan thrusts a couple of more times, riding out their highs, before gently pulling out of her. He takes her into his arms, carefully laying her down to rest. Tav lays her head on his chest, making attempts to catch her breath.
"So, was it what you hoped it would be?" Rolan laughs as he tries to catch his own.
"Everything and more." Tav dopily smiles.
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milkteahood · 2 days
Text
a ghost for a knight
medieval au, chapter 2
chapter 1
Simon Riley x fem!reader
Summary: an ambush, or an organized crime almost gets you kidnapped
Slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s/ Simon is in his late 30s/ early 40s)
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Weeks turned into months and Simon became your shadow. Always there. As cold and dark as ever.
The loud thunderstorm is what awoke you in the middle of the night. Your face scrunched up at the noise, your eyes slowly opening. You blinked a few times before raising yourself up on your elbows.
“Can’t sleep?”
His voice almost made you jump.
“Holy— you scared me” you paused, fist clutched over your chest “I’m still not used to this”
“You will be eventually”
“Or you could get out of my room”
“No”
“Are you even comfortable in that chair?”
“No”
An exasperated sigh left your lips as you allowed yourself to fall on your back. Simon started sleeping in your room ever since your little try to get away moment. If you could even call what he was doing sleep. He was always awake before you and if you woke up for any reason throughout the night, he seemed to always be awake for that too.
***
As the morning sun broke through the window, so did the smell of rain. Your maids were in the room, preparing your clothing, opening your windows and making sure everything was in check before waking you up. Simon was just outside the door. The only times he really left you alone was when you needed to change or bathe.
“Goodmorning” you said to him as you stepped out of your room.
“Goodmorning, your highness” he responded “what do you have in plan for the day?”
“Literature and music classes”
The conversation slowly faded as you were walking down the hallway. You got more used to Simon, as he did to you. The only thing that worried you was the quality of sleep he was getting, so while changing you mentioned to the maids that you wish for a second bed be prepared in your room, in the place of the chair Simon used.
***
After your classes, you found yourself in the library, enjoying a book while Simon was reading one too. He was hesitant at first but you mentioned how creepy it would be to just have him stare at you the whole time.
“Say Simon”
“Yes?”
“How was your life before all this?”
“Before becoming a knight of your guard?”
“Both”
“It was difficult” he said, raising his nose from his book. His brown eyes pierced through yours, almost as if he was begging you to stop asking questions. He couldn’t say no to you, so just please. Shut up. You got the hint.
It was very difficult without your daily activities. You were dying to sneak back into the catacombs of the castle. That was one place you could be alone, and one place no one would ever judge you. But you were scared. You didn’t want Simon to tell your dad about it.
It wouldn’t even matter you thought to yourself. This man is my prison as is.
Simon wasn’t very talkative and you really felt like your whole existence was a pain to him. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same. Still, growing fond of him wasn’t something you thought you’d experience. You also knew your feelings were misplaced. He wasn’t here because he wanted to. He was here because he was told to. His protective nature over you was nothing more than his need to stay alive. But still, you wondered. How can a man be so caring and not feel anything? You frowned at your own thoughts. Better said, how could you develop feelings for one of your guards. Did you really care about him? Or did you just love the attention. The attention your father never gave you, for he was always too busy running a kingdom.
“Your highness? Are you alright?”
His voice brought you back to reality. You didn’t know how long you have been out of it.
“Yes. Just lost in my thoughts”
He didn’t respond. Of course he didn’t. Your feelings weren’t exactly a priority. As long as your body was safe, your heart didn’t matter.
The rest of the day you didn’t really speak much. But Simon didn’t really seem to mind. On the contrary, he found a break from all your rambling quite refreshing. On the other hand, you were fuming. Mostly with yourself for allowing such thoughts to plague your mind. But could you really help it? Simon was always there. And he was the first person to not take your shit. Everyone else would jump off the castle if you ordered it so. But he would look straight into your eyes and tell you to quit being a brat.
A soft knock brought you back to reality. One of your servants walked in, bowed and began to speak.
“Your highness, the king is summoning you in the throne room” he spoke facing the floor.
“I see” you said and stood up. You didn’t look at the servant. Maybe if you did you would’ve seen he was not a man you recognized. He was not your servant at all.
Simon accompanied you to the throne room, but he stood outside, waiting for you. He wondered what it was all about but did not care too much.
Then, from inside the room, your scream pierced through his head.
“NO NO! WHO ARE YOU! GET AWAY FROM ME”
Simon burst into the room just in time to see these strange men trying to take you away. The king was no where in sight.
“You’re going to be very valuable to an enemy kingdom” one man burst into laughter “who would’ve thought infiltrating this castle would be so damn easy” another snorted.
They didn’t see Simon, they were too busy celebrating their victory. So they also didn’t see when he took his sword and cleaved a man’s head off. Time stood still, you were covered in the blood that spilled everywhere and the men’s eyes were wide. Quickly, they tried to compose themselves. They were many and he was just one man. So they thought it would be easy to take him down. But oh, just how wrong they were. One by one, they all fell, they blood and guts spilling everywhere. Yet Simon stood calm, breathing heavily, he looked at the dead bodies, eyes as cold and dark as ever. Just like a ghost.
When he finally turned to look at you, Simon saw just how scared you were. You were hyperventilating and covered in blood.
“It’s alright now, your highness. Let’s take you back to your room” he spoke, picking you up.
You clung onto him, face buried into the crook of his neck, shaking uncontrollably. He felt almost amused at your reaction, but there was also something else. Something he didn’t really feel before. Something he quickly pushed aside. No, it was improper to even allow such thoughts.
The only people Simon trusted at this moment were his men. And he gave them clear orders to find and execute every single intruder and the rat.
Once back in your room, Simon barely managed to peel you off of him.
“Your highness. I have to secure the door”
You let go and sat on your bed. Simon locked the door and made sure no one saw you enter.
“What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know. But somehow criminals managed to enter the palace”
“Do you think my father is ok?” you asked, hugging your knees to your chest
“I hope so. But you are my main priority for now, you highness” he responded, making your heart skip a beat.
“You should however change. We will be safe here” he said, and pointed to the room connected to your main chamber. It was a bathroom “do you.. know how to do it yourself? I apologize, even your maids are a risk for now”
“I’m not dumb, Simon. Yes I can bathe myself” you responded with a soft chuckle.
That was good, Simon thought to himself. At least you were starting to relax.
You emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and a more comfortable gown, but most importantly, you weren’t covered in blood anymore.
“You should rest up” he said to you “me and my men will figure it out in the meantime”
“I don’t want to be alone”
“You won’t be. I will stay here. I have my men to check the perimeters”
He helped you get in bed and just as he was about to turn away, you grabbed his hand, squeezing it.
“Yes?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Y/N”
He was waiting for you to continue.
“You can call me Y/N”
“I cannot”
“Yes. When it’s just us. You can”
If you wouldn't have paid attention, you would’ve missed the way his gaze softened ever so slightly.
“Alright then, get some rest then… Y/N” he said and gently stroked your hair after you let go of his hand.
.
.
.
tag list: @sushiumex
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a11eya · 5 hours
Text
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TITLE: do you still think about me?
PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.
You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.
You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.
(It's not fine.)
TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut
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The ryokan’s lobby is bustling, voices a soft buzz echoing through the space. Some guests are like you, waiting for check-in, and other guests are partaking in the complimentary drinks and snack bar. It all calls to mind vacations you went on with your family, growing up. 
Sighing, you sink into an armchair, letting the fatigue from a long trip on a train and subsequent car ride sink in, shed off. 
“Here,” Rie says, setting a cup of tea and a cookie on the table in front of you. She sits in the chair across from you. “You’re grumpy because you haven’t had any sugar today. Eat these. There’s more up front, at the snack bar.” 
“Thanks mom,” you say, and she leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You wince. 
“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can get away with your sass. Especially while we’re on vacation,” she tells you, then lifts her own cup of tea to her lips. You scrunch your face up at her. 
Her eyes flick past you, and she blinks rapidly. You recognize that expression—up to no good. 
“Oh hey,” she says, affecting a casual tone. “Look who just walked in.” 
Rie waits for you to look, but you’re not so easily led around. You narrow your eyes at her. She raises a brow at you. A moment passes. 
Your curiosity’s too strong. You turn and regret it. 
It’s Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki. What the hell is he doing here?
You immediately swing back around, scowling deeply. You can feel your ears getting warm. 
She gives you a Cheshire grin, finger gunning you. “It’s your first love.”
“Rie, I will leave.” 
She scoffs. “Yeah, right. And miss out on the massages we booked? The onsen? I don’t think so.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” you say darkly. 
She snickers, tilts her head at you. “You don’t want to say hi?” 
“Not really, no,” you say. “And if you call him over, I’ll kill you. Hanta will be sad, but he’ll get over it.” 
Rie laughs. “I don’t know about that. He is dating me, after all.”
“I’ve known him longer. He’ll forgive me.” 
The two of you switch over your attention to an approaching receptionist. 
“Thank you so much for waiting,” he says. “Your room is ready now. Please follow our staff. We’ll take care of your bags.”
You let them take your luggage, too distracted by staying out of Bakugou’s line of sight to pay attention to the small talk the receptionist’s making. Thankfully Rie’s chatting cheerfully with him, leaving you to your task. 
As you enter a hallway leading off the lobby area, you catch a last glimpse of Bakugou. He’s speaking to a staff member at the front desk area, presumably checking in. He’s alone. You wonder if anyone will be joining him, or if he’s here by himself. 
Shaking your head, you push away those thoughts. It’s none of your business. This ryokan’s rather large, and it’s popular with tourists and locals alike. You doubt you’ll see him again during your stay. 
You stare doubtfully at the email Sero forwarded you, then look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. 
“Hanta, this is a luxury onsen ryokan. And you want me to go with Rie? Why aren’t you going?”
Sero claps his hands together in front of his face. “Please? The agency denied my time off request because we’re so busy. You gotta know how busy we are, even holed up in your office.” 
You frown at him. “The agency denied you? That’s crazy. You haven’t taken time off the whole year.” 
“I know, right? Anyway, Rie doesn’t want to go alone, and the reservation at this place is only valid for so long. Cancelling’s not an option.” 
You frown. “If they denied you, they’ll probably deny me too, Hanta.” 
“Noooo, it doesn’t hurt to put in the request! Plus, you haven’t gone on vacation in years. Treat yourself! This can be my months-in-advance birthday gift to you.”
You try one last time. “Are you sure Rie even wants to go with me? I know you want this to be a surprise, but maybe you should ask her if there’s anyone else she’d want to go on a trip with.”
Sero gives you a look, as if you’d just said something unbelievably stupid. “I’m not even going to respond to that.” 
You snort, smiling. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Hanta. I’ll take all the pictures of Rie and send them to you if the agency does grant me the time off.”
Sero slings an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks, bud.” 
“I miss Hanta,” Rie says, collapsing on her back onto the bed. 
You push both of your bags to the side, to be unpacked later. The entire far wall of your room’s lounge area is glass, with a door leading out to the outdoor area and open-air bath, and you give in to your urge to step outside onto the wood, deck-like floor. 
The bath rises from the floor to your right, rectangular, spacious. The staff member told the both of you it’s fed from the onsen, and the steam it’s giving off dissipates into the cool spring air. The bath and deck are built to overlook a large pond with koi swimming in it, giving the impression that where the deck ends the water begins. The far side of the pond is lined with trees and shrubbery. Wooden partitions on either side of this area enclose the space, giving it a sense of privacy. 
It’s absolutely gorgeous. And it’s so quiet here. Aside from the ambient water sounds from the onsen on the property, birdsong from the nearby forested area, there’s little to interrupt this emerging feeling of serenity. 
“You saw him literally before we left,” you say. “Rie, come out here and look at this view. I call dibs on using the bath first.” 
“You could be more sympathetic. We haven’t been able to see each other much this month,” she grumbles, but she comes out to join you anyway. 
“Okay, you can use the bath first,” you tell her. 
She grins at you, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Thanks, friend.”
“The things I do.” You don’t really mind. You have the entire long weekend to enjoy this place. The peace and quiet are already doing wonders for the tension in your shoulders.
A twinge of guilt passes you in a wave. After the staff member who’d escorted you to your room had given you both a short tour of the space, it really hit you how expensive this all was. 
“Rie, you really should’ve come here with Hanta,” you tell her, frowning. “He should’ve pushed for the time off or adjusted the reservation. This is way too nice of an experience to pass up.”
Rie snorts. 
“Don’t stress,” she says. “You think he didn’t try all that? It was either keep the reservation with someone else or lose out on a lot of money. I wanted you to come, so don’t overthink, silly.”
You lean your arm against hers. “Thanks, Rie. I’ll get you and Hanta something nice for your birthdays.”
She hums, and the two of you lapse into silence, appreciating the birdsong, the late afternoon sun gilding the pond, the surrounding trees in warmth. 
“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Rie asks. “I thought you worked out all those feelings for him back in high school.” 
And there goes all that peace. You groan, turning and heading back inside, grabbing your bag and starting to unpack your clothes. Rie follows you, sprawling out onto your bed this time to be as annoying as possible. 
“I did,” you say, because not answering would result in incessant pestering. Better to nip this conversation in the bud so it doesn’t come back up again while you’re on this trip. You tell her, “We’re cool. You know that. You go to the same get-togethers.”
Since graduating from UA, you’d kept in touch with Sero, who you’d met because he’d been the hero you’d been assigned to for the management course’s third year project. You became good friends, as Sero’s one of those good boys, best boys, genuinely kind and fun to talk to. 
Through your friendship with him, you’d met some of his friends—Kaminari, Kirishima. Mina, Sato. Bakugou. 
While you’d befriended the others pretty easily, Bakugou was a different story. And it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He’d chilled out considerably by your third year.
It was because of your cringey, super obvious crush on him during your first year. 
You were so painfully obvious about it, everyone in your class knew. It didn’t take long for kids in the other courses to take notice. When Bakugou entered a room you were in, you would freeze and forget what you were saying. You’d sneak glances at him, and your entire body would warm up if your eyes met. Even thinking about it now, as an adult, makes you want to die a little.
Thankfully, whether it was because he chose to willfully ignore you or because he just never found out, your crush ran its course. It helped a lot that you began interacting with Bakugou within social circles because of Sero; it humanized him, made him real to you. The fantasy of a crush can’t survive knowing someone, getting to know them, you found. 
Still, probably because of that history, you never got close to Bakugou, while at UA and after. You were too embarrassed, and now you’re just not super interested. If you don’t count this past year, since graduation, you’ve seen him only a handful of times, always in passing and never one-on-one. 
But if you do count this year, specifically the past six months, you’ve seen him a lot. 
At a get-together at Mina’s place. At Todoroki Shouto’s birthday a couple months back. At a dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina a few weeks ago. You figure he’s had some free time open up, to accept the hangout invites that he once left unresponded to in the group chat. It’d make sense, since he’s at this ryokan when everyone knows he’s a workaholic. 
You’re happy for him. Work-life balance is super important. And you guys aren’t getting any younger.
“No, you guys are weird together,” Rie says. 
You throw a pillow at her. To your annoyance, she catches it easily. 
“What do you mean by weird?” you ask.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. He always looks like he’s bitten into a lemon when he sees you.”
You roll your eyes. “Great. Can we stop talking about Bakugou now?” 
“Last question, I swear.” 
“Last question for the entire trip about him,” you say, narrowing your eyes at her. 
She sighs, as if this is a huge burden on her. “Deal. I was just thinking—what did you even see in him when we were teenagers?”
“Okay, but why are you thinking about this at all,” you say. 
“Just answer the question.”
“It’s not that deep,” you say, shrugging. “I liked his face.” 
“Really?” Rie’s expression, disgruntled and appalled, makes you laugh. 
“Don’t act like he’s not objectively really attractive. He’s handsome, be real.”
“Maybe to some people,” she relents. “But his personality cancels it out, carry the two.” 
“He’s mellowed out so much over the years,” you say. You feel a little odd, finding yourself defending him. “He’s sweet, when he wants to be. Remember how he got Mina that bracelet she wanted so badly, for her birthday? Or how he picked up those special oranges for Hanta when he went on that one mission?”
Rie looks at you for a long moment. As your words settle into the silence, you begin to feel self-conscious. But it’s not like what you’d said isn’t true. Rie knows this. 
Just as you open your mouth to no doubt incriminate yourself further, she leans back on the bed and closes her eyes. “I guess you’re right. You done folding those clothes? I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner. Hanta says it’s kaiseki.”
Dinner is absolutely delicious. Your server tells you and Rie that the chef’s designed the menu to feature ingredients native to the region, ingredients in season. Everything’s fresh, and even dishes you aren’t normally particularly fond of have you cleaning your plate. You feel spoiled. 
You take lots of pictures. Of the dishes, of Rie. You send them to Sero. 
Hanta: The food looks great! My girl looks even better!!! Send more pics pls
Rie’s pleased when you show her the messages. After fussing over her appearance, she makes you take a picture of her in your room’s outdoor bath, hair elegantly twisted up and off her shoulders, the ambient lighting softly illuminating her face. 
“I’m going to take a walk, see what that little bamboo garden looks like at night,” you tell her. She waves at you with one hand, tapping away at her phone, no doubt sending messages to Sero. 
“Don’t drop your phone in the water,” you say, and she makes an impatient sound, shooing you.
Smiling, you leave her to it. 
Now that it’s nighttime, the ryokan is quieter, more subdued. It’s easy enough to find the bamboo garden. The paths are brightly illuminated, the walkways clear and easy to take. Maybe because it’s the evening, but you encounter few people. Most are partaking in the onsen, unwinding after a long day, you guess. You plan to do so yourself, but you stumble across a dimly lit sitting area overlooking a small pond and waterfall. It’s pretty, and you can’t resist lingering. Taking a seat on a bench, you let your mind empty as you watch the glimmer of moonlight on the water. 
“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you startle, turning. 
Bakugou’s standing there, looking uncharacteristically soft and undone in the onsen’s yukata. His hair is a little damp, spikes fallen. 
Seeing him in traditional wear takes you aback; you’ve only ever seen him in casual clothes—jeans, shirts, sweats. His hero suit, all sleek lines. The yukata’s a good look on him. 
“Oh hey, Bakugou,” you say, then hesitate, feeling awkward. What to say? Should you pretend this is the first you’ve seen of him here? 
While you flounder a little, Bakugou walks over to sit in a chair nearby, facing the water. You’re bewildered at this turn of events. You’re surprised he stopped to say hello, let alone sit and have a conversation with you.  
“Saw you and Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend at dinner,” he says. “You on vacation?” 
Blinking, relieved, you reply, “Sort of. Long story short, Hanta was supposed to come out here with Rie, but work denied his time off. So I’m the replacement Hanta.” 
Bakugou looks at you. His eyes narrow. You shift in your seat, feeling a little bit like a bug under a microscope. Did you say something weird?
“What about you?” you ask, trying to lift the focus off of you. “You here on vacation?”
“...Yeah. For the weekend,” he says, looking back at the pond, exhaling sharply.
For someone on vacation, he doesn’t look too happy about it, you note. 
“Us too,” you tell him. “What do you think of the ryokan? I haven’t gotten the chance to explore yet, but what I’ve seen is gorgeous. Did you just use the public onsen?” 
“It’s alright,” Bakugou grumbles, and you blink, face scrunching up in incredulity. 
“You must have really high standards to say that, sir,” you say, and he snorts. An expression you can’t quite make out in the low light crosses his face, fades. He really is a handsome bastard, you find yourself thinking. 
He says something you don’t quite catch. 
“Sorry?” you say. Internally, you scold yourself for your idle thoughts. Another part of you argues back that there’s no harm in looking. 
“How’d you know I used the onsen?” he repeats, looking a little annoyed.
“Oh,” you say, surprised. Without thinking, you lean forward, reaching out to touch his hair. 
Bakugou turns his head sharply; he grabs your wrist on what seems like instinct, halting you. You freeze, mortified.
“I’m sorry!” you say hastily. He drops your hand immediately, like you’re contaminated. You draw back. Flustered, you continue, “It’s just—your hair’s still a little wet. I took a guess. Sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 
You were treating him like he’s Hanta, or Rie, as if you’re close friends. Jeez. 
“Forget it,” he says gruffly. 
There’s a long stretch of silence, and you begin to think of excuses to make to escape. 
Just as you open your mouth with one, he says, “What’re you doing tomorrow?” 
“I—I think Rie wanted to check out the town’s morning market, and the temple nearby,” you say. “She likes to sleep in, so we’ll probably do that after my morning run. The staff said there’s a scenic walking trail through the forest, so I’ll probably check it out.”
You force your mouth closed before the rambling continues. Wait, you should ask him the same, right? To be polite?
But before you can say anything, Bakugou grunts, then stands. 
“Go back to your room,” he tells you. “It’s getting late.”
With that, he leaves. You sit there for a long moment, staring after him.
“Hey, welcome back,” Rie says from her bed, covered from nose to toes in a blanket. Her eyelids droop in a way that tells you she’s minutes from sleep. “You were gone for a while.”
“Yeah, sorry,” you say, closing the door behind you. Woodenly, you begin to gather clothes to change into. “I’m going to take a quick shower, okay? Go ahead and sleep; don’t wait up for me.”
“Mmkay,” she says, eyes already closed. 
You move around as quietly as you can, getting ready for bed. 
All the while, you can’t help but think about the conversation you just had. About Bakugou.
For the past couple months, at gatherings with mutual friends, it’s been like this when you talk to each other. Awkward, with a strange underlying tension. You’re not sure if it’s your fault, or his, but. You wish you could be normal around him. It’s only like this with him.
As you climb into bed, getting settled, the memory of him in his yukata flashes across your closed eyelids. The moonlight on his face, cooling the red of his eyes. His hand around your wrist.
Fuck. 
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Notes: Hello friends! This fic is a very belated birthday fic for our guy, my little muse 🧡 This is intended to be a twoshot, and I hope to have that second part up next weekend. Please look forward to it!
A couple notes, as there are some specifically Japanese items referenced in this fic:
A ryokan is a Japanese-style inn! Onsen are hot springs. So an onsen ryokan is an inn that features hot springs on the property. Here, here, and here are videos you can enjoy of people visiting some.
Kaiseki is a multi-course, traditional Japanese dinner. Some of the videos I linked above show the kinds of kaiseki offered!
Thank you for reading! Hugs and kisses 💕 Until part two!
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teddynottss · 24 hours
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• - ARE YOU FLIRTING OR STARTING A FIGHT?- •
PAIRING(S): theodre nott x fem. reader
WARNING(S): smutt
SUMMARY: theodore and y/n are academic rivals, and when one time she gets into an argument with snape and gets detention, the slytherin boy finds a way to follow her there
A/N: thanks for 100 followers ily all 💓
——————————————————
Everyone knew you and theodore were academic rivals, both of you had always been racing to be at the top of your classes for years now. However, you always were a few points ahead of him, so you always managed to find a way to brag about it.
You’d always rub your higher marked grades in front of his face, you’d tease him about it in the corridor, lunchtime, anytime, all the time. One class however, potions, was one you faced difficulty with.
Snape wasn’t the biggest fan of your house, Ravenclaw, neither was he of you. He gave you a hard time in his class, while on the other hand theo had it the way he liked.
One time in potions class, Draco gave Neville a potion which caused the Gryffindor boy to throw up slugs all over the room. This little show earned a good chuckle from pretty much everyone, and seeing as Snape wasn’t really trying to do anything about it, you finally snapped. “What the hell is going on?” you shout. “Calm yourself, ms.” Snape answered. “No, no! Look what hes doing to him, do something about it!” “Alright, shush now. This is my class, my business to handle, my choices to make and take.” He said, more angrily now.
“This is bullshit!” You shout. “All right, detention ms!” Snape shouts angrily. Just then, theodore punches blaise in the face, making his nose bleed. Holding his face, blaise speaks “what the actual fuck was that for?”. Theo then goes for another punch and thats when snape stops him using his wand, “alright nott, detention for you too!” you could see the little smirk appearing on theo’s lips as snape spoke.
Later ~
The both of you had to spend your night cleaning the library for detention, wonderful. You got there and to your surprise, theo was already there before you. You ignore him and immediately get to work, you wanted to be done and out of here in no time.
As you’re putting some of the books back, he approaches you. “You’re not going to ignore me the whole night right?” to that you dont answer. “But really, Longbottom, out of all people?” He chuckles. “What are you trying to say, neville is my friend and everyone always finds a way to make fun of him so i will not allow that to happen in my presence.”
You leave the slytherin boy in shock and he turns back to keep working on his part. After a while, he speaks again “You know that this whole problem thing with snape will cause you to fail his class?” he speaks.
“I do.” You scoff. “That means i have a higher chance of getting ahead of you and being at the top of the grade this year.”he teases. “I dont even fucking care nott.” You speak as you keep your face to the front, putting the books back in place. “But that wont happen.” He adds. You turn to him confused, “huh?”. “That wont happen i said.” He speaks.” “And how come?” you ask. “Listen to me, we’ve been academic rivals for years, every single time i was so close to beating you, but i never did, do you ever wonder how?”
You don’t speak, as you cant quiet understand what he’s talking about. He then proceeds to continue “i did it on purpose, i knew how much it matters to you, i read your diary in our first year saying how you were so bad at everything you’ve tried and that studying was the only thing you were good at, thats why i’d write the wrong answers on purpose. Id also steal potter’s invisibility cloak to sneak into the classrooms and change your wrong answers.”
“There is no way,” you say hesitantly unsure what to say instead. “Yes, you need to believe me.” “What the fuck, are you flirting with me or tryna start a fight?” He tilts your chin to look up at him, “i never wanna fight with you, i just want you to be happy.”
Just then you lean in closer and connect your lips. He kisses you back, tongues colliding, his hands land on your hips and he pulls you in closer. He pins you to the bookshelf and starts leaving wet, hungry kisses on your neck and collarbone. You moan at the feeling and grab his hair, to which he responds by biting the skin on your neck, slowly, then more aggressively. “Theo, i wanna thank you for what you did” you speak in between moans. “I wanna pleasure you please.” “You’ll only pleasure me by doing what i ask you to do, let me give you head until you forget your name, cara mia.”
Just then he lifts you so that your legs rest on his shoulders, he raises your skirt and lowers you panties. “God you’re already so fucking wet f’me bella.” He says as he begins trailing kisses around your pussy. You arch your back a bit, wanting him to eat you out already to which he chuckles before he begins teasing your folds with his tongue.
He licks your folds then keeps a hand on your thigh to make sure you don’t fall before he adds three fingers inside you all in one go. “HOLY FUCKKKK” you scream and squirm and squeeze around him, only burying his face deeper into your pussy as his tongue and fingers work in sync. You feel your climax building already, “im gonna cum, theo.” You moan as theo speeds his movements. “FUCKK, OH SHIT YEAH JUST LIKE THAT.”
You release and theo licks you clean. He then shows you some of your come on his fingers and he makes you lick them off his fingers. “You taste so fucking good,” he speaks, kissing you. You moan into his mouth then speak “let me give you head, please, i promise to swallow everything.” He breaks the kiss and smiles at you before beginning to remove his pants. You kneel between the boy, who’s now sat on a chair, and find the lace of his boxers.
You pull them down to reveal his hard, throbbing cock. You begin leaving trails of kisses along his v line. Then, you grab his cock and begin massaging it. He leans down to kiss you as you’re playing with him. You palm him and feel his dick twitch at your touch, then you take most of his length in one go. He moans loudly at the feeling as you lick around, sucking better than ever.
You allow your head to move up and down as you try to take more of his length, your nails digging into his thighs. He tugs at your hair, his fingers playing with your brown curls. The slytherin boy then pushes your head completely making his cock hit the back of your throat.
You gag loudly, the sound sending shivers down theos body. As a result, he throws his head back, moaning as you quicken your moves. “Ohhh, my god ‘hm, yeah, please.. mm.. hmh.. fuckkk just like that principessa.” The boy now a whining, whimpering mess. him moaning like that oml.
Without warning, he cums into your mouth. You look up at him between your lashes, your eyes filled with tears. He smiles down at you, watching you swallow everything. He then carries you and places you on his lap, “good girl, that was fucking awesome, tesoro (sweetheart).”
“I wanna make you cum one more time tonight, i know you have one left.” he speaks. “Only if you promise to come inside me.” You announce. He chuckles and nods as he begins removing your shirt. He removes it then proceeds to remove your bra.
Your boobs fly out, bouncing, also revealing your hard tits. He immediately lays his mouth on your breast, pleasuring your left boob, licking and sucking on it endlessly. He also used his other hand to pinch and play with your tit on the other side. This man, lord. He was only playing with your boobs and he was already gonna throw you over the edge again.
He then pleasured the other boob similarly, licking, sucking, and biting before he started leaving a trail of kisses all the way up to your neck. He then held your hips and slowly begin lowering you onto him, you were able to get most of him in the first time. Then, he gave you time to adjust before pushing more of himself in. You moan when you have his whole length in and then when you get used to his size, you begin riding him.
As you begin riding him slowly and carefully, he groans slightly at the feeling. Theo then places his fingers on your clit and starts rubbing hard which makes you feel yourself cum start to form. “Im gonna cum again teddy..” you announce. “Do it, f’me cara mia.” You speed your movements and so does he, you begin moaning at the speed of things to which he kisses you to stop the moans from being too loud.
Then, theo uses his hips to thrust deeper into your so that you’re practically bouncing on him. That is followed by him sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck, biting and licking it until you scream as you release onto him. As he’s helping you ride out your climax, you moan his name making him groan and cum inside of you.
The boy then grabs your face and kisses you hard, “i fucking loved that,” he speaks. “So did i” you smile back at him. Just then, you hear a sound coming from somewhere to which you both jump in fear and begin getting dressed. You manage to put your skirt and shirt on, but the slytherin boy only his pants before mr lupin appears.
His eyes widen in surprise at the site of the boy half naked, “a little hot mr nott?” “uhh.. yes sir” he says hesitantly. Remus then chuckles, “im gonna let it slide this time but please try to do it in a more private place and finish your duties too.” You both nod before moving back to your jobs.
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Don't Kill My Vibe
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Title: Don’t Kill My Vibe
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.7K
Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.
Warnings: mention of a breakup, recreational drug use (marijuana), friends-to-lovers trope, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids
A/N: This is an AU where Clark Kent is not superpowered and Superman does not exist. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
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It wasn’t the first time Clark asked to try some bud, but it was the most pathetic. His gorgeous blue eyes were puffy from crying over that woman. As much as you wanted to say, “I told you so," you didn’t want him to feel any worse about the failed relationship with his reporter beau, Lois Lane.
And yet again, you think to yourself, ‘Fuck Lois Lane’.
When he showed up at your place an hour ago in sweatpants, sneakers, and a button-up pullover, you were surprised to see he opted for something other than his normal flannel and jeans. His hair was mussed, and he avoided eye contact with you. Something was wrong.
You dragged him into your apartment, turning down your Spotify playlist on the Bluetooth speakers so you could talk over the mellow tunes. While you flopped down on your couch, Clark sat down slowly and sighed.
You were already elevated, having taken a couple of puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “Oh wow” occasionally. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick, and Clark wasn’t stupid.
His eyes looked from yours to the tray on the coffee table that held your various assortments of smoking apparatus, grinder, lighter, and stash box. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he motioned his chin toward everything and said, “I know you’ve said no a million times, but I could use an escape. And before you say no again, know I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to get over somebody, and nothing is working.” 
“I have a feeling there’s another thing you haven’t tried either, but whatever,” you rattled on, waving off his confused expression. “Fine. It should be illegal for you to use those puppy eyes when asking me for something, by the way.”
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So here you are, preparing a strawberry cone for you and Clark to share. You were always weird about people using your favorite bowl. You also figure that for a first-timer, it would be the easiest for him to start with. Twisting the end after filling the cone, you reach for the lighter and ashtray.
“First things first,” you purr, using your phone to turn the music up. “Now, watch what I do. I’m going to draw the smoke into my mouth and then hold it for a few seconds, or as long as I can, before blowing it back out. Ready?”
Clark nods as he turns toward you, tucking one leg under the other. Now that you have his full attention, you suddenly feel flustered. Casting your eyes downward, you take the cone into your mouth and light the end. You inhale deeply and take it out of your mouth. Savoring the citrus flavor of the strain, your tongue licks your lips, and you exhale. 
You close your eyes and take a few breaths. After a moment, you hear Clark’s voice breaking through your haze: “Everything good?”
Your eyes pop open, and just like nothing happened, you perk up. Handing him the cone, you blink as he holds it like someone who has never smoked. You’ve known Clark long enough that you have a suspicion that is probably true for him. 
He’s polite, almost to a fault. He screams Boy Scout, altar boy, and ‘promise ring’ all at the same time. What can you say? Clark was a good boy. And you were getting him high. You little devil! 
Clark takes a short pull from the pink-colored joint and manages to hold it for about two seconds, then attempts to exhale. A small plume escapes his mouth, he inhales sharply and has a coughing fit. You take the joint back before he drops it and sit it in the ashtray.
Rubbing his back, you try to talk him through catching his breath. You grab your water bottle and hold the straw to his mouth when he nods his thanks. He sips the water, then clears his throat loudly, burping up a bit of smoke. He laughs quickly as he sees it exit his mouth, reminding you of a little surprised dragon.
“That was fun,” he sputters, his voice deeper than usual.
“It gets easier, Clark. Trust me, coughing is normal. And most of the time, coughing gets you higher,” you laugh, picking up the joint to take another hit.
You inhale, exhaling into the air, and hold it out for Clark to take again. He sips from your water bottle and gives it to you in exchange for the joint.
Holding it between two fingers, he brings it to his lips. You watch his mouth curl around the tip, and your brain conjures up the vision of what else that boy’s mouth can do. He takes the joint out of his mouth, holding his breath for a few seconds, then blows it out slowly. He gives it back to you and leans back against the couch.
“I don’t think I feel any different yet. How long does it take to kick in?” he asks, crossing his arms and pouting.
It being his first time, he is completely unaware that he is already high. His body language is different; Clark Kent doesn’t slouch even a little. He also certainly doesn’t fidget; his hands suddenly become very interested in the material of his pullover.
“You’ll feel it sooner than you think,” you mumble, the joint between your lips as you speak.
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Twenty minutes later, Clark tells you exactly what the last straw was that ended his relationship with Lois. He pauses to take a hit, handing it back to you as he exhales. “But it was always whatever she wanted. I treat her like a queen. And she goes and blows Jimmy-fucking-Olsen. Then she lies about it after Jimmy comes clean to me. I…,” he trails off, looking over at you and shaking his head as he laughs.
“What?” you question when you realize he stops talking.
“Nothing. I just… I think I’m high,” he giggles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.
“Besides being high, can you describe how you feel?” You press, wanting to know just how high he is.
“I feel lighter. Clear…er? Is it clearer or more clear? Whatever. I think I also just figured out how I want to finish that article on The Wayne Foundation,” he explains, leaning back so he is lying on his back with his head on your lap. “Is this ok? Your lap looked so comfortable,” he wonders aloud, looking up at you.
That’s when you realize three fundamental truths at the same time. 
1. Clark is single. 
2. Clark is literally in your lap.
3. The crush you have on Clark is swiftly turning into lustful infatuation.
Bringing yourself back to the present, you smile at him and say, “Yeah, of course it’s ok.” You focus on the heat radiating from your best friend as he makes himself comfortable so close to your thirsty pussy. 
“You are the best,” he replies, closing his eyes as your hand finds its way into his curls.
“This cool?” you dare, hoping that you can continue to push the boundary between friendship and something more.
As if the groan from the back of his throat wasn’t enough, he voices his satisfaction. “More than cool. I love having my hair played with. Feel free to go to town on me.”
Oh, the importance of phrasing.
This man is not going to make it easy on you.
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You’re explaining to Clark about that episode of Bob’s Burgers where Bob and Linda accidentally get high after eating cookies laced with marijuana at their accountant’s office. “So, anyway. Bob, Linda, and the accountant build a pillow fort from the cushions on his couch, and somehow it makes them feel safer which I get because pillow forts were the height of safety when we were kids. And sometimes, people feel safer thinking about the simplicity of their childhood,” you rattle on, leaning forward to grab your water bottle and forgetting about Clark’s head, which is still very much in your lap.
An oomph is spoken into your boobs, and you shoot straight up to a standing position and knock Clark off your lap and onto the floor. 
“Shit!” he cries from his spot on the floor.
“Fuck, Clark! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” You cringe, your hand touching your forehead as you watch him pull himself up.
“Hey, hey. It’s cool, I’m fine,” he reassures, his hand grabbing yours to take it away from your face. With the other hand, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head up, he smiles and counters, “Are you ok?”
Yeah. Fine. My tits were just thrust into your face for a bit there. Oh, and you have no idea that I like you. And that pesky curl is falling into your pretty eyes again. And your handsome face is close enough to-
One second, you’re staring at his smile; the next second, you’re attacking his mouth with yours. His lips are just as pillowy and soft as they look. At first, the kiss is timid. Surprise gives way to need as he deepens the kiss. His tongue seeks solace as it slides against the seam of your lips. Granting him entry, he licks into your mouth like an explorer discovering new lands. 
His hands find their way to your hips, bringing you impossibly close. He feasts on every whimper that leaves you, peppering in some moans of his own. This is the kiss of a man waiting for a moment like this. At least, that’s how it feels.
Begrudgingly, you slowly break away from Clark. His kiss-swollen pink lips beg to be reunited with yours, but you must prove this is real. You look up into his dilated eyes, noting how blue is almost completely taken over by black. 
You open your mouth to speak, but Clark beats you to it.
“Unless you are about to tell me you don’t want this, please just kiss me again,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what’s more intoxicating. This drug or having you so close to me.”
Instead of worrying about what this means, you throw caution to the wind. Tilting your head, you slot your lips with his, devouring the subtle whimper that escapes him. From nervous to commanding, you feel Clark’s demeanor change as his hands wander over your body.
He picks you up by the waist, your legs instinctually wrapping around him. With you in his arms, he walks blindly to your bedroom. Once he lays you down, he covers your body with his. The hard length against your mound gives you pause, but you quickly recover as you angle your hips to meet his.
Clark breaks the kiss to sit up and remove his pullover and shirt. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he watches you scan his torso while you bite your lip. Leaning down, he tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting you to get rid of it. 
You oblige, now topless in front of your best friend for the first time. You don’t have time to freak out over that information because Clark hooks his fingers in your leggings, his eyes begging for permission. You raise your hips, and he pulls them down your legs along with your underwear. 
You sit up as he chucks his sweatpants, his heavy erection now visible. Your first thought is, “Now that is a pretty dick.”
“Thank you,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You wonder aloud, already knowing the answer.
Clark smiles, nodding at you before coaxing you to lay back. He sinks between your legs, holding them open to kiss your thighs. He teases you a bit, licking and nipping at your mound and outer labia until you wiggle your hips and whine. 
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Patience, please,” he cautions, shaking his head at you. He winks at you, diving fully into your snatch and sucking your clit between his lips. 
You throw your head back in ecstasy as his tongue slides over your swollen button. Humming while sucking on your nub is a fucking power move, and your hands tangle in his hair. You dig your heels into his back as he laps up the juices that accumulate at your entrance. Looking down at him as he worships at the altar of your body, you are taken aback as he peeks up at you over your mound.
With your eyes locked on each other, he watches as he tips you right over the edge. He groans into your pussy, his mouth and chin soaked, as your walls contract around nothing. The euphoria of being high mixes with the joy of being with someone new for the first time.
But this isn’t just anybody; this was your best friend. Warmth and comfort exist between you, allowing you to feel safe enough to fall and that Clark will catch you.
You come down as he plants a kiss on your mound, grazing his lips up your tummy. When he is back above your face, he runs the tip of his dick across your wet folds. He maintains eye contact while he slides in for the first time. 
Once he is fully seated inside you, he lets you adjust to his size before he withdraws slightly and thrusts forward. The wet squelch of your pussy and the smack of your bodies against one another are music to your ears. Clark’s grunts as he fucks into you only fuel your impending second climax.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Not going to last long,” he warns, sitting up on his knees as his hands go to your waist. Throwing his head back, he growls and picks up the pace, using your body like his personal fucktoy.
Your back arches as he repeatedly hits that hidden bundle of nerves. A searing fire erupts in your belly as your cunt clamps down on his dick, spasming and coating it with your cream.
“Good girl! That’s it. Fucking come for me, just like that,” he encourages. “Oh, shit. I’m right fucking behind you. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck.”
You lock your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he is as his dick spasms and fills you to the brim. Your hands smooth down his big chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he comes down from what is probably the most intense orgasm he has ever felt. He stills soon enough, breathing back to normal as his softening length slips from you.
Flopping down next to you, Clark wraps an arm around you. You curl into his side, an arm across his stomach, and a leg thrown over his. Contented silence fills the room as you both take in this unforeseen turn of events.
Clark’s hand makes idle patterns on your back as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You close your eyes for only a moment, missing Clark smiling at you. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your head, causing you to tilt your head to meet his eyes.
“You hungry?” you guess, feeling a bit peckish yourself.
“Yes!” he exclaims.
“Good. I know a great place down the street that makes the best samosas. Does Indian food sound good?” you ask, already tasting the rich spices of the food.
“Sounds perfect,” he says, picking up his arm to let you get up from the bed to grab your phone, watching your hips sway as you walk out to the other room.
Once back in bed, you order various dishes for the both of you. While you wait for the food, you pass a joint back and forth and steal a kiss or two. You decide there is plenty of time for you and Clark to talk. There is no use in killing the vibe for heavy stuff.
With the way Clark is looking at you, there’s not much to talk about anyway. 
🍃The End🍃
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A/N: I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!
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afra-blueraz · 2 days
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How diaboys will treat their plushie Yui headcanons:
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Shu likes to use it as a pillow more than anything else. Because he feels that he is sleeping on Yui's soft body and feels very good and can relax.
The doll is designed to smell like Yui, so sometimes instead of using it as a pillow, he prefers to hug it and sleep like a baby.
The fabric used in the doll is very soft and always reminds Shu of Yui.
After seeing this doll in stores, Reiji went to the market with a long coat, sunglasses and a mask to buy it without anyone recognizing it.
After buying the doll, Reiji hides it in the darkest places of his room so that none of his brothers find the doll because he is sure to be teased by them.
Although the triplets always know about Reiji's secrets and like to tease him.
Sometimes in his solitude Reiji puts the doll on his lap and starts combing its hair. By doing this, he feels that he is touching Yui's soft hair.
In his longings, he sniffs the doll to remind him of Yui.
Reiji loves to hold Yui's plush to sleep at night, but he is worried that his brothers will see him like this. That's why he never does it.
Ayato went to the store like Jet to buy the plushie.
He looks at the doll in surprise and giggles at how strange it looks. But it doesn't take long before he finds himself hugging and smelling the plushie.
Ayato sometimes thinks that Plushie and Yui are one and the same, and orders Plushie to make takoyaki for him.
(Oi Chichinashi, hurry up, make me takoyaki. Oh... I forgot you are just a doll. Hahaha, even your doll is Chichinashi.)
Kanato fell in love with Yui's plush doll with just one look. He thinks Yui can be Teddy's best friend.
Kanato always hugs Yui's plush toy with Teddy and never takes it away from him.
He likes to sew cute clothes for Yui's plushie. Because Yui is always his doll.
Sometimes he has a tea party with Teddy and Plushie Yui.
Laito falls in love with Yui's plush doll and thinks she is very cute.
Laito likes to hug her and talk to her. And sometimes he likes to have bad fantasies about plushies.
Like Reiji, Subaru goes to the store in clothes to buy dolls so that no one recognizes him.
After seeing the doll, he goes to the store like Jet to buy it, and be sure if he can't get the Yui plushie, he will blow up the whole store.
Subaru keeps Yui's plushie in his coffin and sleeps with her all the time.
Plushie Yui smells exactly like Yui and makes Subaru feel good.
Sometimes he looks at Plushie and thinks how cute and beautiful she is and how he can tell his feelings to Yui and he blushes and screams looking at Plushie.
At first Ruki didn't want to buy the plushie, but he couldn't resist it. The plushie was very cute and smelled good and reminded him of his angel.
Ruki buys a plushie and keeps it with him all the time. He hugs Plushie when he is reading a book, thinking that Yui is in his arms and they are reading a book together.
He strokes Yui's plushie hair and kisses her and talks to her as if she were real.
(My angel, do you like to read books together... Yui, you always seduce me.)
When Kou saw Yui's doll, he screamed like a fangirl and quickly went to the store to buy a plushie. He saw that other boys also bought Yui's plushie and got angry and bought all the dolls in the store so that no other boy could buy it.
He treats Yui's plushie like a cat. He buys it cat clothes and even gives it food.
He constantly hugs and squeezes Yui's plushie and thinks it is the cutest plushie in the world. He wished he could squeeze real Yui just as hard.
Yuma buys the plushie just because it makes him feel good because he's not very fond of dolls.
He sometimes puts the plushie in his garden so that he can see it while working and feel good.
Azusa falls in love with Yui's plushie. He buys a plushie and never takes it off. He even hugs it at school, even though Ruki keeps reminding him that it's embarrassing, but Azusa doesn't care.
He always smells Yui's plushie to make him feel that his beloved Eve is by his side.
He constantly kisses Yui's plushie and sometimes feels like he is kissing and caressing Yui.
Carla places Yui's plushie in his large art collection as if it were a rare and valuable piece of art.
According to him, the wife of a founder should be treated like queens and this plushie doll should be treated like a big art sculpture. She is the beloved wife of a founder.
Shin loves to hug Yui's plushie and sleep.
Sometimes, when he gets too emotional, he turns into a wolf and goes around Yui's plushie and licks it. He never shows it in front of Carla, but he loves Yui's plushies.
Kino is not interested in plushie dolls but Yui is his princesse and a princesse needs a prince.
Kino sometimes hugs plushie Yui and plays with it. Sometimes he wishes Yui was as good at video games as Plushie Yui.
What none of the boys can deny is that sleeping with a plushie Yui is the best feeling in the world.
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Hey! For the spring time drabbles I would love to see Lloyd Hansen (this moustach… I swear…) with smut no. 75. “you’ll cum as many times as i want, got it?”
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ruining a perfect springtime date
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pairing: boyfriend!lloyd hansen x female reader
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, oral sex (f receiving), piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, restraints, light bondage, light bdsm, dom/sub vibes, praise kink, pet names, possessive behavior, established relationship
word count: 1,300ish
a/n: thank you for sending in this prompt!!! Lloyd absolutely would say something like this, so it wasn't hard to come up with an idea for this little ficlet 😏 i hope you enjoy it!!! ♡♡
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The forecast had called for a beautiful spring day—warm, but not too hot, and plenty of sunshine to make sure the constant breeze didn’t get too chilly. Excitement filled your heart like champagne bubbles as you eagerly bopped around your room, getting ready for the day.
Your boyfriend, Lloyd Hansen, had planned the perfect springtime date. He’d bought a few tickets for a spring garden where the two of you could ride around on bicycles together, taking in the gorgeous blooms and soaking up the sun. Then, he’d booked a reservation at a sweet little restaurant with the most beautiful outdoor patio, where you could eat outside and watch the sunset together.
You paused just as you were spritzing on perfume and smiled to yourself, thinking about asking Lloyd for his jacket at dinner because you’d conveniently forgotten a sweater. You could already imagine the warmth and comfort of being wrapped up in his jacket, and it only made you redouble your efforts to finish getting ready so your date could start.
Lloyd was waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs of the home you shared together, and you made yourself slow down so he could get the full effect of the effort you’d put into your date outfit and makeup. As slowly as you could manage with how excited you were, you flounced down the stairs, feeling your boyfriend’s gaze on your body.
You’d worn your favorite sundress in honor of your date, the cotton hugging all your curves perfectly to emphasize your body, while the hem was short enough to be flirty without showing too much thigh. It was sweet and a little sexy, and you thought Lloyd would love how good it made you look. Or so you thought. 
But as you watched your boyfriend’s face while you descended the stairs toward him, you saw his expression darken. By the time you stepped off the last stair, Lloyd’s face was positively stormy, his blue eyes dark as the sky during a spring rainstorm. 
Without a word, Lloyd prowled toward you and threw you over his shoulder, making you shriek in surprise. He started up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he carried you back to the bedroom you shared. When your sounds of surprise quieted, you realized he was muttering to himself.
“Look so fucking pretty in that sundress,” he grumbled to himself, his big hand gripping your soft thigh firmly so you couldn’t squirm off his shoulder. “How’m I supposed to keep my hands off you, huh?” he asked, but didn’t stop his muttering so you knew he didn’t expect an answer. “Woulda had to shoot every man that looked at you too long, woulda had to show them all you’re mine.”
Lloyd tossed you down on the king-size bed you shared, his mouth twisting in a snarl that had desire blooming deep in your core. His darkened eyes fell to your legs, where the hem of your dress had ridden up an indecent amount, his gaze staring at your thighs like he was greedy for them. But Lloyd held himself back.
Instead, he stood at the foot of the bed and slowly unbuckled his belt. 
“You’ve done it now, princess,” Lloyd growled, his gaze drifting up your body to your face. “You’re not moving from this bed until I’ve had my fill of you, do you hear me?” His expression was furious, but there was a heat in his gaze that had you melting for your man. “You’ll come as many times as I want, got it?” 
A part of you wanted to pout that Lloyd was ruining your perfect springtime date, but a much bigger part of you was eager for the punishment he had in mind. So you nodded, a breathy, “Yes, sir,” falling from your parted lips. 
Lloyd’s mouth curved into a smile and then he climbed on the bed, crawling up your body and gathering your hands above your head. Using his belt, Lloyd tied your hands to the headboard of the bed, checking with you to make sure the restraints weren’t too tight before he moved back down your body.
Your boyfriend settled between your thighs, pushing your legs wide so your sundress gathered around your waist. Without further preamble, Lloyd buried his face in your panty-covered core, breathing in so deeply, it made you squirm, desire leaking from your hole.
“Can smell how wet you are already, angel,” he groaned, his eyes flicking up and catching yours. Lloyd held your gaze while he ran the flat of his tongue over your pussy, teasing you through your panties. It was so hot, you squirmed, but Lloyd just grabbed your hips and pinned you to the bed, holding you still for him. “Patience, peanut, I’ll taste your sweet honey when I’m good and ready.”
A whine worked its way up your throat and spilled from your mouth as Lloyd continued to tease you, his smirk deepening while sweat gathered at your temples. When your hands tugged impatiently on the restraints, Lloyd chuckled against your pussy, his mustache teasing your clit through your panties and driving you wild.
Finally, when your panties were soaking wet from your desire and his tongue, Lloyd tore them from your body and dove into your cunt, eating you out like a starving man. 
That first time, your release came fast and hard, crashing over you like an unexpected wave that would’ve knocked you off your feet if you’d been standing. Pleasure the likes of which only Lloyd could give you swept through your body as you cried out for him, your thighs tightening around his head and body trembling through it all. 
But Lloyd was nowhere near done. Your boyfriend treated you to another release. Then another. Then another.
And another. 
He kept going until your mind was so blown with pleasure you could no longer keep track of how many times you’d come on Lloyd’s face, your juices gushing into your boyfriend’s mouth while he drank them down greedily, his mustache rapsing over your soft, sensitive skin. 
When Lloyd replaced his tongue with his fingers, he used his mouth to tell you how pretty you looked in your sundress—how fuckable you were, and how he needed to keep you all to himself when you looked so gorgeous. You were his and his alone and he needed to show you just what it meant to belong to him.
By the time Lloyd pushed his hard, weeping cock into your wet, swollen cunt, you were delirious and exhausted. But the feel of your boyfriend’s cock sinking into you made you moan wantonly and yank weakly on the belt still tied around your wrists. You wanted desperately to wrap your arms around Lloyd’s broad shoulders, but he wasn’t done yet.
Your boyfriend pounded into you until you came again, swallowing your mindless moans with his kisses. Then, finally, he released your hands from his belt. 
As quickly as he could, Lloyd divested both of you over your clothes, rubbing your aching shoulders and wrists, then slid back inside you. That time, he took you slow and sweet, rocking into your thoroughly used cunt and cradling your face in his hands while he told you how well you did for him. 
Lloyd murmured against your lips that you were his perfect good girl and, impossibly, you managed to give him one more release. You came at the same time as your boyfriend, the two of you clinging to one another as your bodies came together in the most intimate way.
As you let yourself succumb to exhaustion, you had to admit to yourself that Lloyd may have ruined your perfect springtime date, but he more than made up for it.
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ithebookhoarder · 15 hours
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Could you write an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic? They are newly weds and the reader wishes to pamper Anthony while he is bathing. He’s a bit cautious about it at first because he is not used to such affection. Thank youu I love your writing a lot especially the truth or dare fic.
In Your Hands (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
A/N: First of all, thank you so much! And I hope you like this. Thanks for sending this ask in, luckily I was already toying with a few Bridgerton ideas thanks to the new trailers so this came surprisingly easy.
Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then consider buying me a cup of coffee here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️
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Warnings: Nudity references, the start of sexy-times, alcohol 
Masterlist
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Anthony was someone who hated routine. After all, as much as he was devoted to the day to day duties that came with being the head of his family, if he had his way he would escape the city and the ton, choosing instead the peace and tranquility offered by the countryside, at Aubrey Hall. He dreamed of being able to be just a brother, son and - as of recently - a husband. 
Only married a few months, your new husband was keen to seize each and every opportunity to escape his duties when they appeared - whether it was sneaking off for long rides in the countryside, or making an early exit from whatever social gathering you both had been forced to attend as the new Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton; Whatever allowed you both to be alone and back in one another’s arms (usually sans clothes) as soon as possible, was a good idea to him. 
It was no surprise then, that there was one part of his daily routine that Anthony actually relished: bathing. 
Oh, yes. There was little more in the world that could bring your fully-grown husband such child-like joy as being able to soak in a tub of steaming hot water for an hour or two. The sight always made you smile as you entered your bedroom: Anthony, half asleep, looking as if the stress had physically melted away. 
It was your favourite sight - and not just because of the exquisite view it granted you of his sculpted form - but because of how calm and peaceful he looked. It was as if he had transformed back into the mischievous and carefree boy you’d first fallen in love with all those years ago. Back when your only concerns had been not tripping on your skirt at your presentation, making sure you were actually asked to dance at a ball, and surviving the social season without embarrassing your family or getting yourself roped into some scandal. 
Whilst you knew neither you nor Anthony would ever change a single thing about your life together, you knew it came with a cost. In fact, today it had been enduring hours of talks with local tenants, the family’s book keeper, estate managers, and even several possible suitors looking to secure some kind of marriage contract with one of his younger sisters. (You’d been informed by several members of the household staff that those meetings had been remarkably swift, however, with each unfortunate man looking rather dejected as they were shown from the house). 
If you’d been able to spare him the pain or share his burden you would have, but unfortunately you’d been occupied with matters of your own. Being the lady of such a grand estate came with duties of its own, and you were quite done looking over seating arrangements, replying to correspondence, and paying social calls for one day.  
Still, at least you’d both survived to tell the tale - no wonder Anthony looked half asleep. Then again, maybe it had something to do with the open bottle of whiskey that sat on the table beside the tub. You knew without looking at the label which bottle it was, having smuggled it out of the library yourself to enjoy together. 
“Anthony Bridgerton!” A fake gasp of horror escaped your lips as you appeared in the doorway, a hand pressed to your chest. “You are a sneak and a traitor. That whiskey was for me too, you know.”
“And a good evening to you too, my love. Never fear, there’s plenty to share,” he teased, head relaxed, tipped backward as he took a sip from the glass in his hand. Your eyes were transfixed on the hollow of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Besides, I would apologise but I simply couldn’t wait a minute longer. Not when I couldn’t feel my back from sitting at that desk all afternoon.”
The moan that escaped his lips was almost sinful as he sank a little lower in the water.  
“Well, you’re forgiven. You look far too content for me to even dream of being mad,” you sighed, drawing close and perching on the rim of the tub. Anthony handed over the whiskey glass with a soft smile, letting you take a sip of your own before you placed it back onto the table. 
You could feel the warmth seep into your bones immediately, even if that was also likely in part to your proximity to the tub and your naked husband. 
“Do you want me to wash your hair?”
Anthony’s eyebrows rose at the question, the surprise written across his face. “What?”
“You heard me,” you teased, reaching up to run your fingers through the soft strands of hair atop his head. “I can wash your hair, and get your back for you. Unless you’d rather do it yourself, or I can ring for someone?”
“What? No, that’s uh, that’s not necessary,” he chuckled, visibly flustered - which was amusing and perplexing. After all, it wasn’t as if you two hadn’t seen and touched every single inch of the other in the weeks since your wedding. However, he looked almost confused at the idea that you would offer such a thing. “You don’t have to do that.”
“But I want to,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you, for once. Husband.”
It was probably below the belt to purr his title like that, but you knew how that one little word had the power to reduce the great Viscount Bridgerton to a puddle. That, along with the warmth of the water and the buzz of the whiskey, made him almost pliant to your every whim. Still, you knew him well enough to recognise the lingering hesitation in his eyes as he nodded in agreement. 
He very rarely let his guard down or allowed anyone to assist him in any way. You sometimes believed that had the servants not been dependant upon their work to make a living that Anthony would have dismissed them long ago and tried to run the entire estate single handedly just to prove he could. That he was worthy of the title he bore, and that he was every bit as great a man, brother, and husband as his father. 
It appeared he was the same way when it came to letting himself be taken care of and it made your heart ache for the man you loved. 
Pressing a triumphant kiss to his lips, you swiftly manoeuvred yourself, pulling up a stool and grabbing a jug from the dresser.  
“Just relax… trust me,” you murmured, waiting until he did as he was bid. The gesture alone said volumes, more so than any words ever could. 
Waiting until his eyes were shut, you reached for the soap, tilting his head against your chest as you began to massage the mixture into his scalp. Yet again, your husband seemed to transform into a cat, purring with every touch in a way that made it suddenly very difficult to resist the urge to strip off and join your husband in the water instead. 
“Enjoying yourself?” You giggled as Anthony barely managed more than a groan in reply. 
It was taking every ounce of your self control to focus your attentions solely on Anthony, and not on the way his body seemed to be reacting to your ministrations. Thankfully, you were able to last long enough to finish the job, using the jug to rinse the water through his hair, making sure to angle his head upwards so the water ran off him instead of into his eyes. 
But you were only human; the minute you were done washing the last suds from his scalp you made your move. Sliding off the stool, you knelt beside him and reached out to caress his cheek, causing him to open his eyes almost sleepily. Leaning forward you planted a soft, delicate kiss to his lips, causing him to groan in response.
Without saying a word, his hands rose, twisting their way into your hair as he deepened his kiss. It was clear what he wanted next. 
“Now, wife,” he growled, pulling back just long enough to reach down and tug teasingly at the tie of your dress-robe. You could feel the warmth of his touch as his wet body began to dampen the material. “I think it’s your turn to let me take care of you… so you’d better get in here, before I drag you in here.”
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dee-morris · 6 hours
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Some Random Thoughts on the Nature of Free Will
Thinking about that conversation from the book that got put into The Resurrectionists. Aziraphale is explaining how he and Crowley are good and wicked, respectively, but they have no choice while Elspeth does. Bc humans can't be truly good unless they have the choice to be wicked.
(This is where I usually end up arguing with someone on Twitter lol bc they think Aziraphale is being Mean to Crowley by calling him wicked. It's just a brand name darling, not a judgment call. He literally said in the same breath that he's not TRULY wicked bc he wasn't given a choice.)
So I'm sitting here thinking about free will and the choices the celestials are given, which are not many. And I wonder if one of the reasons they were drawn to the Arrangement was to give them each the choices that humans were born with. One can't be truly good without the opportunity to do wrong, so perhaps being able to work both sides of the equation helped them develop into truly moral beings and not just extensions of their offices. We see in Uz how they're able to work together and bounce off each other to save Job's family, even though the Arrangement didn't properly exist yet.
I've also seen lots of takes and metas that indicate that people view Heaven and Hell as a class system: Heaven is the upper-class privileged majority, while Hell is oppressed, kicked out, downtrodden. I think people forget that the primary difference between the two is aesthetic. Hell has all the same powers as Heaven, and they both intend to burn humanity to the ground in order to prove their gang is best.
No, if we're going to talk about who's got privilege, it's definitely humanity over heaven or hell. We have free will and imagination, which are more miraculous than anything. Sure they've got all these powers and can work miracles and so on, but where's that gotten them? We can actually change things. All they can do is try and influence us to change things, and their success rate isn't high. Two of the most powerful beings in the universe couldn't convince an eleven year old boy to blow things up. That's. Pathetic, actually.
Which brings me back around to the ineffables. Because they actually DO have free will, but I don't think they're used to realizing that they do, which might be why they act a little bone headed sometimes. The show implies and the book comes right out and says that they picked it up from being around humans. And like I said earlier, I think the Arrangement played a big part. They were actually able to choose to do good or evil, a luxury that normally only humans can enjoy.
And the best part of this, for me anyway, is knowing that everything that they are to each other is a conscious choice. Aziraphale didn't want to be a fighter, so he gave his sword away and made the conscious choice to be soft and silly and get into scrapes. And Crowley chooses to come to his rescue because he likes it, not because he is obligated. It's a way for him to choose to do good without getting in trouble. They are each other's outlet to explore humanity in a way that would be impossible if they were on their own.
Aziraphale speaks French badly and flutters his eyelashes and plans elaborate Balls because he loves doing human things and he wants to do them with Crowley. Crowley drives a sleek classic sex machine with bullet hole stickers on the windows and goes on capers and performs daring moves because he loves doing things the human way and he wants to do them with Aziraphale. The way they interact and work together because they WANT to, and not because it's their Great Bloody Destiny or whatever, is so fucking beautiful to me.
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In defence of Steve Randle
Listen guys, Steve Randle gets a lot of hate in this fandom and as much as it pains me, it's valid. Everyone has their own interpretation of the source material, and fandom is supposed to be fun, so it is absolutely valid and ok to hate or love any character you want. You can hate Steve for many reasons or for no reason at all! This is fandom! That's ok! The story is for you interpret and love and play with and hate on to your hearts content. HOWEVER, to say that Steve Randle isn't an important character to the novel is simply not true, and to say that he hates Ponyboy requires ignoring or downplaying some pretty key moments of the book. This is especially true for those of you who love Dally but hate Steve, because Steve gets a lot of hate for being kind of a dickhead (which lbr, a lot of seventeen years old are, especially to their friend's little siblings) while Dally gets less for doing a lot worse (harassing Cherry, jumping kids, etc). This isn't to say that either character is better- they're both great, nuanced characters who have done bad things, but the fandoms attitudes towards them when they share a lot of characteristics is really telling. Even Ponyboy's narration about them is pretty similar- Pony doesn't particularly like Steve, and he was canonically scared of Dally, but they're both members of his gang and he doesn't hate either of them. You don't have to like Steve as a character, just like you don't have to like Dally or Darry or Tim Shepard or even Ponyboy, but he is important- and he doesn't hate Ponyboy, nor does Ponyboy hate him.
A really important moment in the book is when Ponyboy and Johnny defend Dally after he harasses Cherry and Marcia.
"Dally's okay," Johnny said defensively, and I nodded. You take up for your buddies, no matter what they do. When you're a gang, you stick up for the members. If you don't stickup for them, stick together, make like brothers, it isn't a gang any more. It's a pack. A snarling, distrustful, bickering pack like the Socs in their social clubs or the street gangs in New York or the wolves in the timber."
This line here is super important. Pony and Johnny were willing to defend Dally after he sexually harrassed Cherry and Marcia- soc girls who they clearly liked and were intimidated by- in the name of being a good friend, because that is what's important to them and their gang. If they're willing to do it in this context for Dally, you'd best believe they'd do the same for Steve, and him for them. Steve can and will rag on Ponyboy within the gang, but he'd never dream of bad mouthing him to anyone else. Dependability is important to the gang, and Steve would never publicly shit talk Pony, and vice verca. Regardless of their squabbles within the gang, at the end of the day they've got each others backs. They're buddies. We see evidence of this at the end of the book, when Pony grabs the bottle and threatens the socs with it.
"You really would have used that bottle, wouldn't you?" Two-Bit had been watching from the storedoorway. "Steve and me were backing you, but I guess we didn't need to. You'd have really cut them up, huh?"
The important thing here is that along with Two-bit, Steve was backing Ponyboy, no questions asked. Sure most of it boils down to Pony being a member of the gang and that deep rooted loyalty to one another, but the context for this scene is that Ponyboy was sitting on Steve's car waiting for Steve and Two to stop flirting with some girls. The three of them were hanging out- without Darry, without Sodapop. It's their school lunch break. We know Ponyboy has middle class friend's at school, or that he could've spent time in the school library. It was a deliberate choice to hang out with Two and Steve. He wasn't forced into it. Canonically, Steve and Ponyboy hang out. Never alone, but they're decent enough friends to hang out together in a group. Doesn't everyone have friends like that? I do. This isn't the only textual instance either where they hang out without the entire gang being present. Early on, Pony offhandedly mentions that sometimes Steve and Soda will buy him pop and teach him about cars if he hangs around the DX.
"I had walked down to the DX station to get a bottle of pop and to see Steve and Soda, because they'll always buy me a couple of bottles and let me help work on the cars."
He could've just said Soda's name here but he didn't. Steve buys Pony pepsi and teaches him about cars, even though he gets annoyed with him when Soda invites him to hang around with them too often. And honestly, who wouldn't? I'd be annoyed if my best friend always invited her little brother along with us, even if I liked the kid. Wouldn't you?
Now, we do need to address the elephant in the room. I'm talking of course, about this quote;
"I'd never tell Soda, because he really likes Steve a lot, but sometimes I can't stand Steve Randle. I mean it. Sometimes I hate him."
I feel like very often people forget the context this quote comes from, and so it's magnitude is blown way out of proportion. Ponyboy has just been jumped and then immediately scolded by his brother who constantly makes him feel foolish and unwanted. He's already scared, embarassed, and defensive and then Steve goes and makes him feel even more unwanted. Of course he wants to lash out. Of COURSE he feels like he hates Steve in that moment. I did even reading it. But Ponyboy doesn't truly hate Steve. This moment is PEAK fourteen year old having a rough night energy, it's not truly representative of Steve as a character or of Ponyboy's feelings towards him. In truth, Steve actually kind of likes Ponyboy and is at very least protective over him. This is evidence by the previous quotes, but also when Ponyboy comes back from Windrixville, and is worried about the state placing him in foster care;
"'No, [Ponyboy said] 'they ain't goin' to put us in a boys' home.' 'Don't worry about it,' Steve said, cocksure that he and Sodapop could handle anything that came up. 'They don't do things like that to heroes.'"
It's subtle, and not immediately obvious to the traumatized fourteen year old who is used to Steve's cocky nature, but this is both a reassurance and a very bold claim. Not only is Steve trying to look out for Ponyboy the way the rest of the gang models- by treating him like a kid, letting the 'adults' worry about grown up issues in a misguided attempt to protect Pony- he is also throwing in his lot to make sure nothing does happen. Based on this quote and the rest of Steve's characterization throughout the book its not hard to infer that Steve would fight tooth and nail to make sure Ponyboy stays safe with his family. Sure, part of it is gang loyalty, part of it is his devotion to soda, but part of it is because he and Ponyboy are buddies in their own right, no matter how much they fight. They are friends- and Steve is an incredibly important character for many reasons, but particularly to add depth to Pony's character, to the bond between the Curtis gang, and to highlight how the Curtis gang differs from the other gangs in Tulsa. Steve is just as much an outsider as the rest of the gang, and it's disingenuous to say otherwise no matter how much you may hate him as a character.
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mariasont · 7 hours
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Date Night - A.H
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a/n: i have been so obsessed with the nanny recently so this is kind of based off that
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader
summary: you get home from the world's worst date
warnings: none i think, IDK IM SO BAD AT THESE
wc: 0.9k
To put it quite frankly your date sucked. He was disrespectful to the waiter, made really unsettling noises while eating, talked incessantly about his ex, and worst of all, he didn't let you get a word in edge wise (a major issue because you really like to talk).
Saying you were disappointed would barely scratch the surface. The rarity of your dates, thanks to your demanding role as a live-in nanny for Viriginia's most occupied FBI agent, made your free time all too precious. Mr. Hotchner was home this weekend, which granted you some time off, well-deserved you might add, but you had wasted it on some sad excuse of a man who made you believe that chivalry really was dead.
You had a clear mission when you entered the house: to drown the evening's disappointment in a generous pour of red, slip into your comfiest pajamas, and indulge in trashy reality TV, which, by comparison, casted your night in a much more flattering light. You were beginning to accept that maybe, you were meant to be alone, only because men sucked.
You all but threw your jacket into the closet, kicking off the pumps that had spent the night punishing your heels, and bent to rub the throbbing pain, releasing a sigh steeped in disappointment.
"You're home early."
Your heart leapt to your throat, hand flying to your chest on reflex as you whirled around to face the sight of Mr. Hotchner lounging in the armchair, a whiskey glass cradled in his hand. The light from the lamp beside him served to accentuate the shadows beneath his eyes, no doubt caused by his job. So, what he was doing up was beyond you.
"Geez, Mr. Hotchner, are you trying to give me a heart attack here?"
A mock frown creased your face, and you sauntered over to his chair. You settled on the armrest beside him and smoothly relieved him of the glass, taking a small, savoring sip. Annoying him was one of your favorite pastimes, one that was all too rare with his usual absence.
"So, what's the occasion? Waiting up for me?"
He wasn't amused, clearly, his face unchanging. With a deliberate motion, he took the glass back, taking another casual drink, and despite his stern look he didn't move away from you. His eyes shot you a sharp glance, withholding any spoken response.
With a light tap on his shoulder, you hopped down from the arm of the chair.
"It's okay, you don't have to say it. I can read you like a book," you tossed him a wink, your dress flirting with the edge of modesty at the quick action. His eyes briefly betrayed him, moving towards the expanse of flesh now on display. "Ahem, Mr. Hotchner, my face is a little higher."
You gently nudged his chin upward with your finger, guiding his attention to your eyes. You loved his eyes, a cocoa brown color that reminded you of rich, velvety chocolate truffles, a comparison you were pretty sure had slipped out when he interviewed you.
"Careful," he cautioned in a low murmur, easing himself from the chair and setting his glass aside. "As your employer, it's reasonable for me to be concerned about your well-being, you are the woman who raises my child."
"Oh, absolutely, sir. Your concern is most reasonable and duly noted," you replied with an exaggerated formality, lightly tapping his cheek before neatly tucking your hands behind your back.
He traced his brow with his fingertips, as if to smooth away the beginnings of a headache, undoubtedly brought on by you. A sigh of exhaustion followed. "I trust I don't need to remind you of who signs your paycheck."
With a beaming smile, you sing out, hands moving to rest on your hips. "Totally clear on that, sir!" You turn and head up the stairs, your mumble just loud enough for him to catch, "A little raise wouldn't hurt though, just saying!"
He's close behind as he warns in a low voice, "Don't push your luck."
You stop so suddenly he almost stumbles into you and you feel his hands steady you on your hips, dangerously close to the curve of your ass as you glance back at him.
"Oh, I wouldn't dare, sir."
A slight shake of his head and those perceptive eyes convey all he doesn't say as his hands fall away, the space they leave behind feeling oddly empty. 
"So, the date didn't go well?" he asks as you reach the top of the stairs.
"No, I didn't say that. It was wonderful, perfect actually." You'd always been a terrible liar, and naive for thinking he'd fall for it. "He might just be the man of my dreams."
He gives you a look that tells you he sees right through your bullshit. "Let me guess, he probably ordered for you without asking, talked over you, and didn't even bother to walk you to your door."
"Uh, no, that's not--," you start, voice squeaking slightly. His unimpressed look makes you fold--something you found yourself doing way too often around him. "Okay, fine. But really, using those weird FBI skills on me? That's playing dirty, Mr. Hotchner."
"No 'weird FBI skills' required," he replies, the slightest smirk gracing his stupidly handsome face. "Your taste in men is just... consistently interesting."
"Interesting is better than non-existent, which I believe is the current state of your dating life, Mister."
He moves closer, the narrowing space nudging you against the wall. "Well, considering my days are filled with work, parenting, and apparently, babysitting you, dating isn't exactly a priority."
He was kind of hot when he was mad. His eyes narrowed at you. Okay, not kind of, definitely hot when mad.
"Oh, Mr. Hotchner, it sounds like you need a night off from all that babysitting," you purr, placing your hands on his shoulders as you grace him with a smile. "Why don't we discuss your options over dinner? My treat?"
A sigh of exasperation escapes him, a telltale sign that he's done with the conversation, which actually is how a lot of your discussions end. He steps back and opens the door to your room. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Mr. Hotchner, see you in the morning," you say, your hand pausing on his arm just a beat too long. "Sweet dreams--though I'm sure I'll be in them."
taglist: @hotchhner
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