#let not the hope of the poor be taken away

[moonstonejpg]

ours (k.bakugou x reader)

"your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong in"

sum. bakugou is having a bad week, thankfully his girl is always there to make the bad days a little better

cw: a little angst, fluff at the end!

i hate hate hate paparazzi!! loosely based off of this and the song ours by taylor swift

It had been a rough week for Katsuki.

First, the hero rankings were announced, and he found himself at #15—not even in the top ten. And he swore it didn't bother him, that the rankings were just a stupid popularity contest. But you saw the way his shoulders slightly slumped in disappointment and the way his fists clenched so hard that the half-moon imprints of his nails in his skin stayed for hours after you had smoothed his fingers out.

It broke your heart to see him like that—and then yesterday he got into a silly fight with Izuku, one that was filmed and taken way out of context by thousands of people on the internet. Which in turn prompted the resurgence of people saying he didn't even deserve to be on the list at all, let alone at #15.

bakugou is mentally unstable lol

i worry about his gf tbh, those anger issues are a huuuge red flag

right?! i hope that poor girl gets out of that

she seems so sweet, he’s probably threatening her or something

It was just one hit after another for him.

And now, as he stares out the window at the crowd of paparazzi with a clenched jaw, the only thought in your mind is how this is strike three. All he wanted to do was take you out for a nice dinner to thank you for being so supportive this week, but he couldn't even do that without a swarm of media leeches waiting outside.

"Kats, we don't have to go. We can just stay here." You say quietly, worried eyes set on his tense shoulders.

"No," he growls, "I'm not letting them ruin this too." He positions himself in front of you before taking a few hesitant steps out the front door of your shared apartment building.

His warm hand envelopes your own, fingers threading through before tugging you behind him, half shielding you with his large body. The flash of the cameras and the noise of the crowd makes your vision blur, but Katsuki is moving fast, fingers tightly gripping your own while his gaze is laser focused on the awaiting black car parked on the other side of the street.

Everything is moving so fast, the shouts of the various reporters melting together around you. But you can't hear a word they say, the sound drowning out any specific words, until—

“Why him?”

And you nearly miss the step below as you freeze. The question has you rearing back as if you'd been hit, your eyes dancing towards the sound of the question. You see him right away, a male reporter who is nearly frothing at the mouth for a reaction. The reporter leans forward, eyeing you hungrily as he waits for an answer. And usually, you wouldn't give them any time of day, the daily harassment towards you and every other pro-hero and their significant other almost daily a good enough reason toignore any of their probing questions. But how could you ignore this?

“Why him?” you parrot back, white-hot anger burning through your body at a rapid rate. You don’t think twice before you’re ripping your wrist out of the blonde's hand and taking angry strides towards the reporter. You're nearly toe-to-toe with the man, and while he is a full head taller than you, he shrinks a bit from the look on your face.

Katsuki comes up beside you, gently tugging at your wrist.

“It’s not worth it.” He says lowly, looking down at you with something like sadness tinged in his eyes. And your heart cracks, picking up on the one thing he isn’t saying but you know he’s thinking.

That he’s not worth it.

And you can’t have that, you can't have Katsuki thinking that he isn’t worth any of this, because he is. He is worth everything, and despite being in each other’s lives for years now, the fact that he still doesn’t see that is devastating.  

Your body begins shaking from a mix of anger and adrenaline as you look at the crowd around you. A slow hush falls over the crowd, as if they are waiting with bated breath to see what you have to say.

“Because he is the kindest human I have ever had the pleasure of knowing; kinder than any of you will ever be. And what has he ever done to you to make you so obsessed with twisting every move he makes, every word he utters into something that makes him look like the bad guy? And for a quick buck? You all should be ashamed of yourselves.” After shooting a glare around the crowd, you keep your chin high as you grab a stunned Katsuki’s hand and drag him towards the car.

You gently push him in, keeping a hand smoothed over the back of your dress as you crawl in after him, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary.

The car ride to the restaurant is eerily quiet, and as the adrenaline begins to leak out of your body, your brain catches up to what you did. And yeah—they did need to be told off, but you start to wonder if this is something that will get him into trouble.

You weren’t a hero and you didn’t have a lick of media training, why did you think causing a scene would be a good idea? The thoughts spiral in, and you want to bury your face in your hands as dread slithers its way into your stomach.

When you get inside the building, you are ushered towards the back of the restaurant by the host, presumably to where your table is located. But before you round the corner, Katsuki is tugging you into a dimly lit closet, fingers making quick work of the lock. Even after the door is bolted shut, he stands and faces it, as you just watch the outline of the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders.

“Kats?” You say quietly, a hand hovering over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I just—”

He shakes his head, a disbelieving laugh pushing its way out of his mouth.  

“No, you—” He shakes his head again, then turns around to face you, his body crowding you up against the wall. His eyes are dark, twinkling with emotions you can’t place. Both of his hands come up to gently cradle your face, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?”

You blink up at him, confused.

“Not only was that the hottest thing I have ever seen, but—well, that was the first time anyone has stuck up for me before.”

“I would do it again—anything for you really. You’re worth it. And I know that’s hard for you to believe, but you are. They can say whatever they want, but I know in my heart that I do not deserve you, and that you ” You say quietly, eyes locked on his. He smiles, eyes shining, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” He whispers in the dark of the room, thumbs caressing your cheeks.

“I love you Kats.”

“I love you too. Now, how about we ditch this place?” He asks, leaning back to tug at his tie, before bending forward to loop it around your neck. “I think that new ice cream parlor is open. So, sundaes on me?”

You nod, a giggle escaping when he bends down and tugs the ends of the tie, your body falling into him. He lets out a gentle laugh, the sound like a gentle breeze on a hot day. It has your smile stretching across your face, your heart singing in response.

He reaches down to unlock the door, but when he flicks the lock back, nothing happens. Katsuki tries again, but again, nothing happens. It doesn’t budge, not the second time he tries or the fifth, or even the tenth time he tries. On the eleventh try his hand slips from the lock, his eyes colliding with yours.

It’s silent for a few seconds, and then a laugh bursts out of him, followed by another and another. The sound has the grin staying locked in place on your face, relief flowing through you at the change in his mood.

“We—we’re stuck.” He gasps out, hands falling on his knees as he hunches over, deep laughs spilling out of him. It isn’t long before you are on the floor next to him, trying to catch your breath around your own laughter.

[sonotpattismith]

Your new Sukuna fic has me thinking gym crush Sukuna, where reader signs up for a gym membership and ends up going a few weeks to work out, but staying just to see Sukuna work out all the time because awkwardness.

Sukuna assumes she’s being judgmental about his tattoos and what not and confronts her like

“You got a staring problem?”

And poor reader is all flustered and he catches on and he acts all aloof but internally he’s shocked because he’d never had a girl be interested in him (idk maybe his twin brother always outshined him lolz)

And he asks her out and she agrees and they’re just all awkward together because this giant tattooed menacing man is sitting in this tiny café with this shy lady who’s face is bright red.

down bad

pairing: gym crush!sukuna x shy!reader word count: 2.7k content: fluff, mutual pining, second-hand embarrassment if you squint, sukuna being a grumpy cutie patootie, matchmaker!jin a/n: I've never written in this format before but was TWEAKING to give this scrumptious ask something, so sorry if the pacing or anything is a little awkward :') TY FOR THE ASK ANON MUAH MUAH MUAH

gym crush! sukuna who has spent nearly every evening in the gym since he was a teenager and his twin brother told him he seriously needed to start letting off some steam on something that wasn't his patronizing classmate's face. The brooding giant would never admit to it, always claiming that the dude looked at him funny, but damn it, he was the only one allowed to make fun of the coke-bottle-lenses on Jin's new glasses.

gym crush! sukuna who found himself enjoying that little outlet of his more than he cared to admit, and had now been keeping his strict, protein-dense diet and meticulous weight-training routine up for damn near ten years now. Alongside the inches that he had sprouted up in high school, his ever-growing muscles certainly helped keep assholes away from both him and his brother.

gym crush! sukuna who's diligent and consistent efforts were clearly paying off, and you would be the first to attest to that.

gym crush! sukuna who was oblivious to the fact that he had very quickly become a strong part of your motivation to keep coming to the gym a few times a week, knowing you'd be rewarded by the sight of his glistening biceps and fiercely determined, tatted-up face as he lifted what looked to be astronomically large weights with an effortlessness that made you wonder how easy it would be for him to lift you over those bulging shoulders of his.

gym crush! sukuna who you deemed far too intimidatingly handsome to approach— not that you'd be able to summon the courage up anyway. After all, the very slim extent of your ‘flirting’ history was simply… staring and hoping whoever it was caught on eventually— not that the success rate was very high considering that unfortunately, men hadn’t yet developed a knack for mind reading just yet.

gym crush! sukuna who was currently too busy lifting a way-too-heavy barbell off of his brother's chest who insisted he could handle his twin's alarming bench-presses, to notice the far-off look in your dreamy gaze as you watched him from your spot at the leg press. Jin used to come more often with his brother when they were younger in order to keep him motivated, but his availability had become scarce since becoming a father.

gym crush! sukuna who doesn't bat an eye when his twin smiled knowingly through his pants of effort as he heaved himself off the bench and leaned in to let his larger counterpart know that he had an admirer.

gym crush! sukuna who didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that Jin was referring to you, the pretty girl that had been coming in for the past few weeks and couldn't seem to maintain a poker face for the life of you. Sure, Sukuna had grown used to the shocked stares of initial onlookers when faced with his mysterious tattoos and bulking muscles, but you had taken it to a new level.

gym crush! sukuna who kissed his teeth in irritation at the sudden reminder of your unabashed judgement, shaking his head dismissively at Jin and reminding him that, "Yeah, dumbass, everyone stares."

gym crush! sukuna who had his twin about ready to rip his hair out from the roots, because how could someone so innately astute be so hopelessly blind to the metaphorical hearts swirling in your eyes as you watched the ripples in his back flex from under his compression shirt while he maneuvered the weights back to their respective shelves.

gym crush! sukuna who seeks to get his meddling brother off of his back, only trying to prove his own point when he huffs at the man and whips his head around to face you for the first time since he'd noticed your wandering eyes.

You were far too lost in your absentminded daydreaming, thinking about a version of yourself where you'd stop being such a wuss and talk to him— maybe ask him how to use a machine that you'd feign ignorance over, or to tell him that you thought his uniquely intricate tattoos did wonders to emphasize his already prepossessing bone structure.

The theatrics of your mind ran rampant, lighting each of your senses ablaze with thoughts of the way his heated skin would brush against yours, or how you'd get a chance to feel all the fruits of his strenuous labor if he'd press against your back with those statuesque, washboard abs— and, oh my god, is he walking up to you?

gym crush! sukuna who didn't give a fuck that Jin was hot on his heels, begging him not to act on whatever brash impulse that ever-present devil on his shoulder was whispering into his ear. The smaller man watched in utter horror, though seemingly unable to turn away, as his brother bared his teeth before thinking first, as was so tragically typical of him, wiping the glittering hope from your eyes as he snapped.

"You got a fucking staring problem or what?"

gym crush! sukuna who would never admit that perhaps his twin was right, the grueling realization dousing him like a bucket of ice water and draining all the blood from his face as he watched your expression fall in what he thought he was crazy for thinking was disappointment.

It was as if it was happening in slow motion, your legs gradually lowering from the machine as your mouth opened and shut in a frantic attempt to explain yourself to the stranger you'd been fawning over for weeks now. The deep crimson that began rapidly staining your cheeks surely matched the stunning shade of red that, you were now noticing from up close for the first time, swirled in his irises.

gym crush! sukuna who should have apologized, but it was too late now as you muttered out a meek apology, far too mortified to look him in the eyes again.

"N-No, I just..." Your face grew impossibly brighter, nearly blinding the now flustered man who wasn't sure how to piece back together what his quick temper had shattered. Stumbling up from your seat on the machine, you quickly squatted down to collect the water bottle you had placed on the ground. "I'm sorry."

gym crush! sukuna who suddenly felt like the big, bad wolf in every children's tale who just bared his villainously sharp teeth at the unsuspecting, bright-eyed heroine as he watched you make a beeline toward the women's locker room. His bulking arms hung limply at his sides as he blinked owlishly at your frantic escape.

"I'm not gonna say I told you so only because I don't know how much pre-workout you had before this—"

gym crush! sukuna who shoved his balled up fist into the center of his brother's chest, not hard enough to deal any real damage, but certainly hard enough to shut him the fuck up— because how the fuck was he supposed to guess that someone like you was showing any sort of real interest in him?

After all, Jin was always the one who garnered all the positive attention— what with his bright personality and nerdish charm that seemed to make all the girls at school growing up simply melt at his feet. Even now, married and officially off the dating market, his twin was always the one who got the lingering glances and giggling compliments.

All Sukuna was used to receiving were the hushed whispers of judgement and feared sidelong glances whenever he walked into a room. Women showing interest in him were few and far between, especially not delicately pretty and sickeningly sweet ones like you.

gym crush! sukuna who's guilt was swallowing him up a bit more everyday that he came to the gym only to notice your glaring absence growing more and more gut-wrenching as the days continued to blur by.

The brash nature that had protected him from disappointment for so long was now instead the root of his disappointment for once, and for the first time he was beginning to doubt himself.

gym crush! sukuna who nearly drops an unforgiving amount of weight onto his toes when he catches a glimpse of your pretty, pink workout set in his peripheral after nearly two whole weeks of your absence.

It had been an intense internal battle of whether or not you should come back or not. On one hand, the crushing mortification of having to face this man again after getting called out for your stalker like gawking was palpable and suffocating.

On a more practical note though, you had already caved and paid for the year membership to this gym that had definitely put a sizable dent in your bank account, and no amount of cringe-worthy wallowing in your own self-pity was going to excuse the amount of money you were wasting each day you didn't show.

So, when you saw that familiar head of pink hair, you immediately booked your sorry-ass to the opposite side of the gym, your heart racing far faster than you could blame on the fifteen minute cardio workout you had just completed.

gym crush! sukuna who was willing himself to come up with any opportunity to gravitate toward the area of the gym you were currently taking up, but couldn't for the life of him think of what he would say should he face you again, because sorry sure as hell wasn't in his vocabulary.

His eyes would catch yours from across the room, but you'd always make quick work to avert your gaze, that burning flush that would rush to your cheeks reminding him of his atrocious behavior each time.

gym crush! sukuna who finally spots his chance when he sees your sweet face scrunched in panicked frustration as your fingertips struggled to reach the stop bar on the leg press you were currently using. It was clear through the tremble in your thighs that your sore muscles were about to give out on you if you couldn't get this damned torture device to let up in the next ten seconds.

gym crush! sukuna who springs into action, dropping the barbell he had been hoisting over his shoulders and not giving a fuck about the alarmingly loud clang that rang through the otherwise quiet gym as it hit the floor unforgivingly.

Surely an employee would be coming by at any second to apprehend him for the improper handling of the equipment, but right now he dared anyone to try to stop him— because he could already see another sorry ass man stopping what he was doing to come help you, and Sukuna would be damned if that twig stole his moment.

Practically shouldering the audacious man out of the way, he smacked a firm hand on the press you were currently struggling to hold up on your exhausted legs, lifting the weight from your feet while slipping his foot under the stop to lock it safely back into place.

gym crush! sukuna who watched with bated breath as you finally processed who had come to your rescue, glancing frantically between him and his outstretched hand in apprehension.

"Thank you." You muttered bashfully, finally placing your comparably smaller hand into his monstrous palm so he could steady you as you stood from the machine on doe-like, trembling legs. The protective hand he placed at the center of your back for support certainly did nothing for your racing nerves.

He only clicked his tongue in response, peering off to the side as though irritated that he had to come help you. Deep down though, the pink-haired man knew that if he looked at you right now that his face would soon match your blush stricken one.

"How 'bout adjusting the damn machine before you get onto it?"

gym crush! sukuna who realized he once again spoke out of line, cursing himself under his breath as he watched you cast your eyes down to your shoes, a flustered apology spilling from your anxiously bitten lips.

"Sorry, I-I'm kind of new to this stuff, so I don't really know how all of the machines—"

"Quit fucking apologizing, will ya'?"

gym crush! sukuna who demands asks you to get coffee with him one of these days— so he could teach you about proper gym safety, of course.

gym crush! sukuna who, despite having caught on to the reason for your blubbering bashfulness, is still somehow stunned out of his goddamn mind when your pretty pink lips part up at him in shock before a timid grin takes over your once sullen features.

He gulps down the nervous lump in his throat when you nod enthusiastically at him in agreement, because holy shit, he wasn't sure anyone had ever looked at him with so much sunshine behind their eyes before— and definitely not someone as out of his league as he deemed you to be.

Still, his face remained calculatedly neutral as he shoved his phone into your delicate hands to input your number into, all the while he knew he was about to have run laps around the fucking building to rid himself of all this newfound adrenaline your presence was pumping into his system.

gym crush! sukuna who looked so painfully out of place in the cafe you had suggested to him, having shown up nearly half-an-hour early and looming outside the building with all the subtly a six-foot-five beast could possibly muster when standing beside such a frilly looking establishment.

gym crush! sukuna who brushes off your unnecessary apology when you saw him waiting outside for you, lying about the fact that he'd only just gotten there a minute ago.

He doesn't miss the way you flush as he opens the door for you and leads you to the counter with a guiding hand at the small of your back in a manner that came off as so instinctual to him.

You couldn't help it though, because you'd never seen him outside of his typical gym attire, and the flowy button down he had on over his form-fitted tank top was rolled up to his elbows and emphasizing each protruding vein in his meaty arm as he pointed at various menu items in question because lord knows he had no clue what the fuck a lavender-rose oat milk shaken espresso was.

gym crush! sukuna who pointedly ignored the strange look the two of you received from the barista as she took your order, as well as the glare he got from the grandma who's table his imposing figure accidentally bumped into as he slid into his own seat across from you, along with the various blink if you need help type cautionary gazes that were being thrown your way.

You weren't paying them any mind either though, not caring about how strange you looked in your sweet little sundress, sipping on your bright, matcha latte as you beamed at the nefarious looking giant across from you— because both of you were stumbling over your words and flushing as though right back in middle school, and neither of you were quite sure what you'd done to land yourself in this position.

gym crush! sukuna who you were quickly realizing, was not very good at asking for things as he ordered you to begin working out with him instead— y'know, so you didn't risk hurting yourself on one of the machines again totally not because he'd noticed the way other men in the gym had a tendency of letting their eyes wander on you while you were too busy looking at him to notice.

gym boyfriend partner! sukuna who had always rolled his eyes at the people posing for pictures in the gym mirror, now donning a proud smirk of his own as he snapped a picture of his reflection, theatrically flexing his biceps as you stood in front of him, a good head and shoulders shorter as you mimicked his pose with an adorably determined expression.

gym boyfriend partner! sukuna who could only roll his eyes when Jin was the first to comment on his post: told you so.

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[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy II

an art professor Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU...

II.

-It takes about three classes for you to finally relax around Professor Wick. You still feel his eyes upon you when you pose, but he does not make you feel uncomfortable. In fact…he is painfully proper with you. As he should be, of course, but sometimes, late at night when you are kept awake by your thoughts of him…you wish he would be just a tad forward. It's unseemly, what you would let that sweet man get away with. Therein lies the conundrum, you suppose. If he made a pass at you…he wouldn't be so sweet. 

-One day you are making your rounds during the break, when you happen to notice Professor Wick was drawing at his desk along with the students. You were in a reclining pose, feigning sleep. The way he drew you…you know better than to think you could possibly look so alluring in real life, but there is something in the varied weight of his lines, the soft shading. Somehow he configured the shadows of the background to suggest wings folded over your supine nude form. 

You've never really liked your body. Well…who does like themselves, truly? But modeling in the classroom, seeing your flesh turned into art, has helped you find a confidence, or at least an acceptance, you didn't have before. Wick’s rendition goes beyond all that, though. You can't let this go to your head. It’s too much. “I hope…you don't mind.”

Again, he's crept up on you without a sound, and you nearly jump out of your skin. 

Clutching your heart, you look back at him. 

“No…I…it’s beautiful.”

You don't know where you get the courage to meet his high-polished onyx gaze, but you feel something inside you implode…then melt. 

“You're beautiful, y/n.”

You have no idea that this is the first time he's drawn anyone besides his wife, since she passed. 

You stand like this in agonizing stasis, close, but not touching, for you don't know how long. You're not sure what might have happened, given enough time, but some of the students return to class, and the moment is broken. You don’t know if you're disappointed, or relieved. 

-You don't know why it's taken you this long, but you finally look up “John Wick+artist”. What you find takes your breath away. Yes, he's a skilled draughtsman. And a painter. And sometimes he combines all these things with bookbinding. 

He's incredible. 

His paintings are dark, with a touch of fantasy, evoking grisly folktales and the old masters in his play of light and shadows. He uses perspective and foreshortening to explore the human body in exciting new ways. He made his name with a series of ethereal ballet dancers in precarious situations. Later, he only painted his wife, Helen. She was a photographer, and in a snap of them with cheeks pressed together they seem impossibly happy. You see that she succumbed to a terminal illness two years ago.

The art world has not heard from John Wick since. 

You do not know this man, really, but you cry for him all the same. 

-You have no idea, how you move him. It's not just that he's seeing you naked on a regular basis, though that does not help. It's the flash of your eyes across the room, your smile and your laughter as you joke around with the students while they draw you as God made you. There is a light in you that he cannot turn away from, perhaps because he has lived in darkness for so long. He craves you– and he knows he shouldn't.  He traces your form with charcoal on paper, and he tells himself that that will have to do. 

He looks you up too. 

He finds your little miniature paintings on your social media, your digital portfolio for all to see. You make tiny eclectic diorama scenes you cook up with a 5/0 brush, sometimes you add moving parts and teeny dolls with teenier twee companions. Polly Pocket never had a pet opossum…poor girl. Your diminutive pieces hint at a longing for the enchantment of childhood lost, and maybe a cozy home that feels whole, if not strange to an outsider’s eye.

He notices you have not created anything you feel like sharing lately. He wonders if you are ok. The answer amongst the creatively inclined is usually not. But if you are not happy…you hide it well. 

He senses there is a well of strength in you that he wishes he could drown himself in. 

TBC...

___

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pinterest board/ photo credits

[benz12313]

Delirium Part 3/3 - Ridoc x Reader 🌶️

{Images are not my own}

Summary: You and Ridoc have been dancing around each other for months, just on the cusp of becoming something more. All it takes is a rough week and a bit of liquor to have you become putty in his hands, and he's been dying for the chance to carry you to his bed. [Takes place during Iron Flame]

Warnings: morning after/aftercare, some angst, fluff, happy ending, Ridoc being a sweetheart, nothing particularly explicit, swearing

Part 1/3 - Part 2/3

Authors Note: This final part made my heart ache writing it, but honestly? I absolutely love how it came out. Thanks for showing this mini-series some love! Now that it's over let me know if you'd like to be added to either of my other taglists. I've got two; All Ridoc Fics and my ongoing fic, Surface Tension's. Either message me or comment! Thank you again, it's nice to have my writing shown some love! :)

Word Count: 2,606

Ridoc’s POV

My body ached, and I nearly groaned and stretched, until I felt the weight resting on my arm. Memories from last night crashed through me, blurry and confused due to the alcohol, but when I opened my eyes to confirm them I froze. Y/N was here. She was really fucking here. Looking divine and sleeping like the dead, makeup smeared over her face and my pillows, and head resting peacefully on my arm while she was huddled in the sheets. Good thing too, because there were scattered piles of fucking snow around the room, letting me know just how thoroughly I’d lost my control last night. 

You know… Aotrom’s voice rang through my head, teasing and I fought back a groan at whatever smart-ass statement he was about to make.

“Not now Aotrom.” I snapped and he chuffed, but for once quieted as he felt my quickly rising panic.  

Not because I regretted anything. Fuck no, I would never regret a single thing about what happened last night. But I knew she would. She was the one who’d run away every time things got too real. She was the one who’d be eye-fucking me one minute and then reminding me, painfully, the next minute that we were just friends. Friends who had now crossed that line and…fuck, just how many marks did I leave on the poor girl? 

My eyes washed over her after lifting the sheets gently, and guilt consumed me. Bruises on her hips and ass in the shape of fingertips, bite marks on the top of her perfect fucking breasts and along her neck, hickies covering her from her neck down to her thighs. And gods, her collarbone was deep fucking purple where I remember making my claim on her last night. A moment of particularly eager loss of control where all I could fucking cling to was the thought of making her mine.  

Well fuck. 

I let out a breathy sigh, and gently pulled my arm from beneath her. She didn’t even stir. My heart ached. Sure, I liked fooling around as much as the next rider. Being always on the cusp of death made one eager to enjoy what life they did have, but this was different.

She was different.

I would gladly give it all up for her, to be able to call her mine. To hold her, love her, absolutely fucking worship her like the goddamn princess she is. One more glance over and I decided. If she was gonna run from me anyway, I would at least make sure she was taken care of first.

It was gonna take a little field trip first though. Let’s just hope he was awake. 

Y/N's POV

My muscles ached, my head pounded, everything outside the blankets was freezing, I felt oddly empty, and unconsciousness pulled at me to stay under in it’s tight embrace. Warmth ran along my hips, trying to coax me awake, but I grumbled into the pillows and snuggled deeper, the scent of the unfamiliar bedding soothing me. 

I don’t care who’s bed I was in. They could fucking wait for me to be ready to wake up. 

I don’t know how long I had fallen back into unconsciousness, probably seconds, but when I awoke, warmth and wetness was running along my aching core and I halfheartedly swatted it away. 

“Ngh.” I whined, barely there. 

“Princess, gotta let me clean you up okay?” A soothing voice muttered, carefully being quiet. Voice barely above a husky whisper, mindful of my hangover.

I knew that voice. Shit..I fucking know that voice, much too well. My eyes flew open, luckily the room was dark so I could see without adjusting, but I found him immediately. Ridoc. 

Shit.

Shit.

SHIT. 

He grinned sheepishly up at me, where he was sitting on the end of the bed, wet rag in hand, and cleaning up between my thighs. The events from last night crashed through me, overwhelming me.

How did I actually let this happen? Even with the alcohol?

Fantasies are one thing, fantasies are safe. Fantasies don’t throw wrenches into friendships and throw the easy dynamic of our squad to the fucking wind. Tears pricked my vision, emotion overwhelming me and Ridoc cursed. 

“Shit, Y/N, are you hurt?” I met his panicked gaze and my heart ached. I was full on sobbing now, everything too much. I couldn’t even tell him that no, my body ached (deliciously) but I wasn’t hurt. I’d just ruined fucking everything. No big deal right? I shook my head as that’s all I could manage.

“Hey? Hey? Okay.” He threw the rag to the side before scooping me up and pulling me onto his lap. “I’ve got you. Just let it out. I’m here.” He cradled me tightly, my face buried in his bare chest as I sobbed. His hand threaded through my hair, holding me secure and his other arm wrapped around my back, cradling me gently. I flashed back to how he’d held me last night, just like this, like something breakable as he’d pounded into me. I sobbed harder. 

“I…ruined….everything!” I wailed and he stiffened, but then continued running his fingers along my scalp. 

“No. Princess, shh. Nothing is ruined.” He whispered, voice gentle, and so sure of himself that I had to pull back and examine his face. He was carefully neutral, and so serious that it threw me off, making me stop sobbing immediately. Not a hint of a smirk or playfulness. Nothing. 

I’d only seen him this serious one other time. When we learned that Violet had been lying to us and keeping secrets. He’d been so hurt that she hadn’t trusted us. He ranted for days about it when it was just us. 

“Yes it is-“ I tried and he shook his head, eyes narrowing on me. 

“It’s only ruined if we let it be.” He assured, gulping as I realized he was lightly trembling. Was he…nervous? Scared? He wiped the tears off my face and sighed, like he was trying to get the weight of the world off his chest. “You can walk right out that door now and pretend that nothing happened if that’s what you want. I can handle our friends. No one will say a fucking word if that’s what you need. Just…please…don’t think you’ve ruined anything.”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. Open. Close. Open. Close. What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? Did I want to leave? 

‘…if that’s what you want?’

What the fuck did that mean? My head swam, aching, and not in a good way. 

“What…what do you want?” I asked, voice small. It was a question I’d been wanting to ask for weeks. Months if I was going to really be honest with myself. 

He froze beneath me, as still as the little animal figurines he’d make for me when he was bored. The ones made of permafrost that I’d kept safely tucked away in the back of my wardrobe, the coldest part of my room. I looked up to his face again and he was biting his lip, terror in his gaze. I realized it then.

He hadn’t expected me to ask. That much was obvious. My heart broke as I realized he’d really expected me to run. To throw what happened last night away, chalk it up to a lapse in judgement, and try to forget about it. He hadn’t predicted I’d ask him what he wanted, that I’d care enough to ask. 

But I couldn’t just throw last night away without at least asking him. Sure, it was easily the greatest sex of my life…but it was more than that too. The tender seconds, thrown in amongst intense pleasure? The way it was so mind altering, not because of what he was doing, but because it was him. The way he’d reduced me to absolute, fucking, delirium where all I could comprehend was Ridoc? No. It didn’t matter if my instinct was to run, to forget everything, to laugh it off and ignore our friends teasing until they eventually forgot about it too. 

I knew with aching clarity that I would never be able to. 

I had to stop running from him. 

I had to put myself at his mercy if I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with the constant question of what could have been. 

He was quiet, until he shook his head lightly, making my heart stop and fear clutched my throat, choking me. “I can’t…”

“I can’t tell you what I want.” His words were whispers as his thumb ran along my jaw, eyes anywhere but meeting my own. His eyes finally found the courage to meet mine and they went soft. “Don’t look at me like that.” He laughed, short and hollow, the sound suspiciously resembling my previous sobs. 

“I can’t tell you because then I’ll never be able to let you go. To let you walk away and protect your heart how you need to. I can’t tell you because then last night was real, not alcohol induced horniness. Not a mistake. Not two friends dancing over the line of being something more.” Frustration creeped into his voice and I clung tighter to him as he fucking glared at me now. “I can’t tell you because I know with fucking certainty that you’re gonna decide to throw me away like everyone else does. And if I let myself be vulnerable for a fucking second it will destroy me Y/N. You will destroy me. So no, I won’t tell you what I want. I’ll wait for you to tell me what it is you want and do whatever I need to with whatever you give me.” 

My heart raced at the painful truth in his words. The following words left my mouth with aching certainty before I could even think them. 

“I want you Ridoc Gamlyn.” He froze, the anger that had crept up gone, and his mouth fell open in shock. I continued, “I can’t pretend. I’m sorry but I can’t. I just…I’m sorry for crying…for scaring you…I just, I woke up and I remembered and I thought that you’d hate me for what we’d done. Or that I’d let feelings get involved and I’d have to watch you just…I don’t know…move to the next pretty face…and I’d have to bitterly watch and pretend to be happy for you…and it would just ruin everything with the squad…and fuck this is all hurting my head too much Ridoc.” Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks and Ridoc sighed. 

A small smile creeped on his face as he wiped away my tears again. “I knew you liked me.” Then his grin was teasing, and my heart lurched.

My Ridoc was back, sitting underneath me, quickly beginning to grin like a fool. Eyes drinking me in so warmly that I had to hide my face in his chest to cover the heat creeping up my cheeks. I squealed in surprise when he suddenly lifted me, and erupted in giggles when he gently plopped me back down on his pillows. 

“Ridocccc.” I groaned, shooting him heatless daggers as he went back to where he’d been between my legs when I’d first woken up. He laughed and picked up a small tub of what looked like some sort of tincture. In fact he had a few different unlabeled containers piled to the side on his bed as well as a fresh set of sweatpants that I recognized as my own. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you Princess. After care is important, I know it’s a little…delayed…but I’m still a gentlemen.” He flashed me a grin, before gently tossing a water canister next to me, within reach. “And I feel a little bad, I was a little…eager…to finally get my hands on you.” 

“I remember.” I giggled and he laughed, gesturing with a nod and an absent hand wave to look at myself. I did, my eyes widening before warmth crept between my thighs. Remembering just how good it had felt when he’d made the dozens of marks that now covered my body. My thighs clenched at the memory and he laughed, lighthearted, despite the satisfied smirk on his face. 

“You should see your neck, if you think that's bad.” He chuckled, before opening the little tub in his hands. “Drink your water. Bodhi leant me this bruise cream-“

“Bodhi? Why does Bodhi have bruise cream laying about?” I asked incredulously and his ears turned light pink. 

“Dude’s into some kinky shit…anyway-“

“Why do you know that?!” I asked and Ridoc sighed, looking anywhere but my face as he began rubbing the cream on my skin, and I couldn’t help but relax at the soothing warmth. 

“Just drink your water woman. Goddamn…too early for so many questions.” I hummed in response to his embarrassed mutters, but my throat was scratchy and water sounded amazing. 

So I sipped the water, as Ridoc gently massaged the tincture into my skin. I relished in his touch and then he was slipping a fresh pair of panties and the pants onto my hips. Then he moved upwards, straddling my waist as he applied more tincture.

We didn’t speak, didn’t really need to, as I watched him with affection in my gaze. He’d gently kiss over some marks, soothing almost as well as the tincture would. When he was finished he slipped one of his own shirts over my shoulders, the fabric soft, and practically drowning me in its size. It smelled so much like him though that I couldn’t complain. 

And then he was cleaning off my makeup after grabbing another container, that I finally recognized as my cleanser. He didn’t stop there though, applying my moisturizer and spf as well, nearly bringing tears to my eyes as my chest filled with emotion. He handed me a muffin without a word; blueberry and dusted with sugar on top, my favorite, before sitting me up and beginning to gently comb through my hair. He pulled it into a haphazard ponytail before slipping out from behind me as I munched on the muffin, thankful that the churning that had begun in my stomach lessened. He then moved around me, grabbed my boots, and sank to his knees in front of me, making my heart race. 

“We going somewhere?” I asked softly and he nodded, a pout covering his lips. 

“As much as I’d like to keep you locked in here all day, doing everything that I’m now allowed to do to you…” His gaze heated for a moment before he gave me a single peck on the lips, sighing sadly, “Our friends haven’t seen us since last night, its nearly lunch hour, and you need something more than a muffin to get your energy back.” 

I whined, wanting his lips back and he chuckled, giving in and giving me one more chaste kiss before working on my boots. Slipping socks on, then tugging the boots on and deftly tying the laces. Then he was off me completely, and pulling his own shirt on, much to my dismay. 

“If we have to.” I pouted as I stood, immediately falling back down again. The ache between my thighs catching me off guard and causing Ridoc to laugh. “What did you do to me?!”

“Don’t worry Y/N,” He teased, pulling me up into his arms. “I’ve got you."

@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie @jobroho @the-lake-is-calling - I hope I got everyone, if I missed you I'm sorry!

[okarasusama]

my election take:

"But when they said, “Give us a king to lead us,” this displeased Samuel; so he prayed to the Lord. And the Lord told him: “Listen to all that the people are saying to you; it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king. As they have done from the day I brought them up out of Egypt until this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so they are doing to you. Now listen to them; but warn them solemnly and let them know what the king who will reign over them will claim as his rights.”

Samuel told all the words of the Lord to the people who were asking him for a king. He said, “This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots. Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants. He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants. Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, but the Lord will not answer you in that day.”

But the people refused to listen to Samuel. “No!” they said. “We want a king over us. Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.”

When Samuel heard all that the people said, he repeated it before the Lord. The Lord answered, “Listen to them and give them a king.”

1 Samuel 8:6-21