#*prays that they aren’t observant*

[thebloggerthatjesusloved]

Have you ever just accidentally revealed for the first time an OCD compulsion or a neurosis you’ve had your whole life? Couldn’t be me….

[sttoru]

✸ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔: satoru unexpectedly comes back home to his family after being gone on a week long business trip. .

word count. 1.6k +

tags. girl dad!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, tiny bits of angst, overall sfw. reader gets called 'mama; pretty, sweetheart, baby'. satoru being a good husband and dad. your daughter is around 2-3 years old.

the apartment is silent, something you aren’t used to. normally, you would not catch a break from the loud voices ringing in your ears twenty-four seven. it’d either be your husband’s or your daughter’s. or if they’ve teamed up to bother you, it’d be both. it’s been so long since the three of you were together. way too long.

satoru has been gone on this business trip for a week now. seven days without him is seven days without your other half. you feel empty for some reason, even if you have your lovely child who makes every day much better. you just can’t help but worry about your husband.

“mama, look!” your toddler calls out from the living room. you blink and find yourself back in the kitchen, instead of deep within your thoughts. you faintly smile at the adorable voice of your daughter. it reminds you that you’re not alone.

you walk into the living space and look around before spotting the toddler at the window walls. she’s pulled the curtains to the side so she could admire the scenery outside of your cozy apartment. you watch her excitedly jump up and down—like she’s discovered a big treasure.

“it’s raining!” she continues, running towards you and dragging you along to watch the raindrops fall onto the windows. you nod at her observation and pick her up. you kiss her cheek and gaze into her blue eyes, “yeah, it is! you’re such a smart girl.”

“yaayy! smart!” she giggles and nuzzles her cheek against yours. you wholeheartedly accept the affection with a warm laugh of your own. you both watch as it pours—from your perspective, the people below you look like small creatures, running around to get inside. you get lost in thought again at the sight.

you can’t help but wonder if it’s also raining where Satoru is. you hope he’s taken shelter by now, even though you know his infinity could easily block any rain from wetting his clothes. you don’t know what it is, but you’re undoubtedly worried sick about your husband whenever he is gone for too long.

“mama!” your toddler gasps and tugs at your clothes. your dissociating ends for a second because of the child in your arms. you absentmindedly hum and pat her back, letting her know that you’ve heard her. you’re too focused on your own thoughts and the gloomy scenery outside to hear anything else.

“mama! mama!” your daughter continues. this time, she kicks her legs, desperately seeking your attention. you kiss her cheek in response, still zoning out. she squeaks and giggles due to something. when she squirms too much in your embrace, you figure that it’s because she wants to be let down.

you crouch and allow your daughter back on her feet. you’re finally able to notice how she keeps staring at something behind you. she’s grinning from ear to ear, her tiny hand still tugging at your sleeve like she’s trying to notify you of something. her other hand points at the space behind you, “papa!”

you freeze. you don’t know whether you should turn around or not. is she joking around with you?

you tilt your head, patting your daughter’s head tenderly, her white hair as soft and fluffy as the one who’s she called out to, “papa? papa’s working, baby.”

a familiar chuckle softly reverberates through the room. one so smooth and nice to the ears; one that you immediately recognize as your lover’s. you nearly snap your neck by how fast you turn your head.

it must be a dream, you conclude. you can’t believe what you’re seeing. there he is, the man you’ve been praying to see. he stands there so casually, as if he’s planned this all, his hands in his pockets.

your husband smiles at you and your daughter. he’s more than happy to be back home as well.

“well, hello to you too, sweetheart,” satoru snickers, seeing your shocked expression. you’re frozen in place and have no clue how to react. you did not expect to see him any time soon nor did you even hear him come back in the first place.

“papa!” your daughter can’t hold her excitement anymore and jumps into her father’s arms. satoru happily accepts her hug and peppers her face with kisses, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.

he twirls her around before squeezing her tiny body to his chest, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. “mm. i missed you so much, baby girl. so so so much.”

you’re left somewhat processing the entire thing. you watch as satoru interacts with your toddler, tightly hugging her until she’s playfully whining about the lack of air.

he gives her a firm peck on her forehead and eventually puts her down, ruffling her hair affectionately, “you promised to be a good little girl for mama while i was gone, right?”

“yeah! been a rweaaally good girl f’ mama,” she nods repeatedly and clings onto satoru’s leg, awaiting praise for her good behavior. the white-haired man lets out a low chuckle and pinches her chubby cheeks in a gentle manner, “i knew my little girl wouldn’t let me down, heheh.”

you try to articulate some words, but nothing comes out. you take a step forward once you’re ready to face reality. your bottom lip trembles as the all the experienced emotions overwhelm you.

satoru instantly notices and smiles, opening his arms to welcome you into his embrace. which you immediately do.

“aww, there’s my pretty wife,” satoru sighs in relief, pleased to have the love of his life back in his strong arms. it’s like all the stress he’s felt throughout his seven-day long mission has evaporated. the same goes for the weary state his body was in before setting foot in your shared space.

the tears stream down your cheeks. they’re happy tears—tears of relief. all your worries are eliminated as your lover is now safe and sound before you.

satoru allows you to cry it out, not minding his clothes getting wet. your precious tears wetting his uniform is much better than the pouring rain doing so.

“it’s okay. ‘m here now,” satoru coos. he kisses the tip of your ear, moving down to your earlobe before showing your neck the same affection. his romantic touch is one you’ve missed greatly.

his big hands rub up and down your back, his lips trying to distract you from the tears. he moves to cup your face and leaves a warm kiss on your forehead, “you’re so precious. you did so well while i was gone, baby.”

satoru knows it must’ve been tough to take care of your daughter alone, whilst simultaneously taking care of all chores around the house. you’re the strongest woman he knows. his eyes sparkle with love as he wipes the tears from your cheeks, “there, there. .”

you sniff and cup satoru’s face this time, touching him like you’re making sure that he’s indeed real. You look around for any possible scratches but find none. luckily.

your voice is shaky as you speak up for the first time in a while, “welcome back, honey. i missed you s’much.”

your husband bites his lip at the sound of your voice cracks. your looks are captivating, even more when you’re so emotional. your beautiful eyes that glimmer with tears lure him in without fail. he’s longed for this. to see you and hold you again, without relying on some pictures on his phone.

he can’t hold back the urges within him any longer.

“c’mere,” satoru hisses, an unexpected switch in his tone. he suddenly pulls your body flush against his, his head lowering so his lips could crash down onto yours. your eyes widen at the abrupt gesture, but you quickly close them to fully enjoy the sensations. you hold him close to you while you return the kiss.

after a couple seconds, you both pull away, out of breath by the sudden moment of pure passion. the sorcerer grins and hugs you again. satoru rests his chin on top of your head and allows you to catch your breath, “i’m glad to be back.”

the soft pitter patter of the rain against the glass of the windows continues in the background. it’s a peaceful moment—two lovers reunited in their safe space. this is all you’ve wished for.

the sounds of wrappers falling to the floor and someone rummaging through plastic bags put an end to the sweet atmosphere between satoru and you. you both look to the side at the same time, only to find out that your daughter’s already been snacking on the goodies that satoru bought back from his trip.

the two of you burst out into laughter at the sight of the toddler munching on some chocolate, her cheeks as well as her hands being a complete mess. you were far too engrossed in your shared affection to notice that the little child has snuck off to inspect the bags on the coffee table.

“yummy!” your daughter exclaims once she notices that both her parents have caught her red handed. she reaches her arm out towards you, a half eaten piece of chocolate in her dirty little hand, “mama try.”

“no no, thank you. it’s all yours,” you giggle and shake your head. she’s too cute to scold and you can easily guess that satoru seems to agree with that statement. he walks over to the little girl and boops her nose lovingly.

“she’s got a sweet tooth jus’ like her papa, hm?” satoru comments light-heartedly. he grabs a nearby tissue and starts to clean the area around her cheeks, hoping to lessen the damage that’s already been done.

he truly missed this. the comfortable feeling of belonging somewhere.

“jus’ like papa!” your daughter innocently repeats after satoru as he cleans her up, causing the both of you to laugh again.

you’re happy to have your family back together.

[kazumist]

THE NAME OF LOVE .ᐟ

✩ — the three times hoshina soshiro dismissed his feelings for you as something that friends do and the one time he realized otherwise.

✩ — request: IVE BEEN WANTING TO REQ U SOMETHING FOR SO LONG NOW I HOPE U DONT MIND !! can i ask for hopeless romantic reader and hoshina soushirou.... the way he... is...... (LOVE PESSIMIST 🫵) I'm a sucker for hoshina falling first or confessing first but it is truly up to you!! i genuinely have no idea where im going with this so pls feel free to change anything to your liking

✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader. fluff. cw: uhm funky pacing bc this is just pure word vom LAWLZ. wc: 3583 (i did not expect for it to be this long i swear). reader works for operations and is considered as second best to okonogi (is also okonogi's assitant). ikaruga and okonogi cameo yipee! hoshina is bad at feelings ™. reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

to love is something you cannot name.

that’s a saying that stitched itself onto your brain because it just makes sense. loving someone has way too much depth, depending on the person who is the one lending out their heart and who they are giving it out to in the first place. it could be named as anything, depicted as anything, or interpreted as anything.

especially for you, who had witnessed, watched, read, and consumed all sorts of media that named love as numerous things. sometimes love is tragic, making two people feel so much just for them to get pulled away from each other when they were so close to running into each other’s arms. sometimes love is mirthful, having two people become the best versions of themselves around the person they love because they feel safe becoming vulnerable with the other. yet sometimes love is bittersweet, accepting the art of letting go as it was for the best—accepting that things weren’t just meant to be but not forgetting the emotions the person made you feel.

well, how were you supposed to know what love really is? a hopeless romantic is hopeless for a reason.

having a day off is quite rare, even for the employees of the operations department. the work was quite demanding, as any job involving the JAKDF was. but you still made time to relax and enjoy your rest from time to time, whether that was rewatching a good old romcom film from the 2000s or reading a new romance novel you decided to pick up.

it was normal for a hopeless romantic to dream. to fantasize. that maybe they could experience an extraordinary love like it is portrayed in films or described in songs. so naturally, as a hopeless romantic yourself, you weren’t any different. you just wanted to experience love—to be loved.

then again, liking someone does count as experiencing romance in a sense. admiring someone with traits the public doesn’t really notice is… rare. but that’s how it always went with you. though you wouldn’t really say that you actually acted upon your feelings, they're usually be gone once that person has stepped out of the current environment you’re in.

that’s how it was before.

vice captain hoshina was a respectable man. he is talented, and he sure as hell knows it. as the ton put it, you and the vice captain had a strange relationship—nobody really knows what to call you two. as the secondary leader of operations and okonogi’s assistant, it was only natural to be in the presence of the vice captain most of the time. but there’s just something different when it comes to how you two treated each other.

from flirtatious remarks and confusing gestures that you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to interpret as romantic, just what were you to the vice captain? you’ve observed long enough that he only does this to you. though you don’t really hate it. in fact, you like it that he’s only like that to you—but you weren’t supposed to like him, you swear! but honestly speaking, how could you not? you had plenty of reasons to like the vice captain in that way. you just pray that no one has really noticed it.

however, okonogi wasn’t stupid. she gets praised for her analytical skills for a reason and you wish she didn’t have to use those skills when it came to your romantic interest in the vice captain of all things. she promised to keep it a secret, though, and keeping secrets is a thing okonogi was really good at (to your surprise).

— — — — — — — — 

the first time hoshina denied his feelings for you was when he overheard some rookies talking about you.

“(l/n) is such a blessing to the third division, don’t you think?” one said as the other hummed in agreement. “i know, right? they’re so nice! did you know that they helped me once? they gave me tips on what i should do to enhance my combat power for my fighting style; it was really helpful too!” the rookie beamed. hoshina had an unsettling feeling churning inside of him as he eavesdropped on the conversation. but he quickly shook it off, thinking that he probably ate something funny earlier.

but why hasn’t he received such treatment from you? you were closer to him than some rookies, right? 

right?

wait, what the hell is wrong with me? hoshina thinks, snapping out of his earlier thoughts. he was not jealous of some rookies. those were just rookies, for christ’s sake! hoshina walks away, only to be greeted by the sight of you and ikaruga talking this time.

“thanks again for the film recommendation the other day, (l/n). i didn’t expect to enjoy it so much—you were completely right! it did suit my preferences,” he excitedly says. hoshina watches silently, observing everything in detail. and one thing he notices is that ikaruga is standing close to you—way too close than he preferred.

“really? i’m glad you liked them, ikaruga. feel free to ask for more film recs when you’re free.” you laughed at his enthusiasm. ikaruga had always been a fun person to converse with, in your opinion. and you two bonded over films! but it was really nothing more than that. “will definitely do!” he replies, giving you a two finger wave as he excuses himself.

he was definitely not jealous. why would he be jealous in the first place? you two were just friends.

and friends don’t get jealous like this.

— — — — — — — — 

the second time was when he was undergoing recovery after the whole fiasco of the tachikawa base raid. everyone was exhausted. it was fortunate that the third division didn’t get any casualties during the incident; the majority of the troops were only injured for the most part. soshiro was counted among the severely injured troops but he doesn’t regret it one bit.

or so he thought.

soshiro wakes up slowly, blinking and squirting his eyes at the sudden brightness of the light above him. he felt a weight on the side of his bed when he tried to get up, as if something (or someone) was pressing down on the blanket. looking down, he wouldn’t mistake your hair for anyone else. he knew it was you with just a glance.

and there you were, sleeping softly on the side of hoshina soshiro’s bed. soshiro takes note of your appearance that he could see right now—which was really just your messy hair. he gets up, making sure that you don’t wake up. it is likely that the operation has not had much sleep up to this point, which is why you ended up sleeping in his hospital room of all places.

he feels bad. a hand slowly reaches out to your head, stroking it ever so gently. if he were to be honest, he was worried for he operations team during the attack. he recalls regularly checking in to see if things were okay on your end, and you kept reassuring him that everyone was unscathed. his other hand reaches out to his phone on his bedside, checking to see if he missed anything. he was unconscious until now, he thinks. and the text from okonogi just confirmed all of his suspicions.

you’re probably still unconscious by the time i sent this, but they’ve been there every day since you got admitted. 

that’s all the message contained. soshiro glances at you again, a soft smile tugging on his lips. he doesn’t get why okonogi felt the need to send him that text, but the thought of you waiting for him to be conscious again made him feel… warm inside. but it all went away as he pulled back his hand from your head as you stirred awake. you raised your head, adjusting yourself to be in a more comfortable position as you rubbed your eyes with your knuckles. 

shock was an understatement when you realized that he was finally awake.

“vice captain! i—sorry, i didn’t mean to sleep on your bed. wait, are you okay? does anything hurt?” he just stared at your eyes, trying to process something. shock was still present in your eyes, and relief was mixed in them too. you noticed him not answering anything you said. worried that he might be suffering from some aftereffects, you asked him again. “uhm… vice captain hoshina?”

he snaps out of it as soon as he hears his name. “sorry, i was just thinking. what were you saying?”

“er… is there something on my face? you’ve been staring at my face the whole time since i woke up…”

hoshina blinks once. twice. then thrice. before he focuses his gaze on something else, looking away from you. you held back a laugh at the sight of red tinting his ears as he apologized for his actions. 

“i’m glad you’re alright, vice captain.”

hoshina freezes. he didn’t expect those words to have a bigger impact on him than they do now. but this is all natural, isn’t it? friends worry about each other. friends wish and hope that the other is okay.

yet why does he feel bitter when he labels this as something that friends—no, snap out of it. he thinks.

“i’m glad you’re alright too.”

— — — — — — — — 

the third time was when you were sent to work to the first division of all places. he was completely against it, of course, but he doesn’t have any concrete reason to actually protest against it. 

it was quite boring to not have you there. he didn’t really have anyone to disturb anymore. and the sudden change in the vice captain’s demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by the platoon leaders. sure, he still had the same toothy grin on his lips, with his fang peeking out ever so often but deep down, you can’t really point out if it was genuine.

after all, hoshina soshiro was good at concealing his emotions and thoughts.

but then again, okonogi wasn’t stupid. it pains her to be the one who’s stuck between the vice captain and her subordinate. soshiro was the same as the night he didn’t get to neutralize kaiju no. 8 back then. shoulder slumped, arms crossed, a slight pout on his lips, and an expression that clearly stated he was pondering about something—or perhaps someone?

“you miss them, don’t you?” okonogi suddenly asks as she organizes the paperwork in front of her. working with hoshina when it came to paperwork wasn’t really new, except for this time because you would also be present in times like these. “miss who?” he decided to play dumb (or is the right term indenial?)

“please don’t make me spell it out for you, vice captain.” she replied, pushing up her glasses.

hoshina doesn’t reply, zoning out as he thinks about okonogi’s words. well, it wasn’t really false that your sudden absence had changed things in the vice captain’s usual routine. he doesn’t see you making a cup of coffee after he finishes training in the middle of the night. nor does he see you drowning yourself in research at the library when you’re not in the operations room, where soshiro would personally lend you a hand and provide his own insights on whatever you’re researching.

oh. 

oh.

he does miss you.

but that’s just normal, right? friends miss each other. and friends tend to leave sometimes but they will always come back when the time is right. however, the head of operations for the third division didn’t have to be some kind of genius to put two and two together. 

the vice captain has some sort of interest in you as well; he just hasn’t realized it himself.

— — — — — — — — 

the day you returned from the first division was the day everything went back to normal for soshiro.

it was currently a quarter after one in the morning, and he had just finished his training. he ended up going more overtime than usual, but if he hadn't, he probably would’ve missed the open door to the library at this hour. and of course, being the ever so curious man he is, he takes a peek in.

and again, there you were. but this time, you were drowning yourself again in research. your hair was a bit messy, and the eyebags doesn’t go unnoticed by him. yet in spite of that, soshiro still found your appearance to be lovely. maybe it was just the fatigue from his training, or perhaps it’s the thought of you being so determined in your work that sparked such a thought in him.

regardless of what the reason actually was, soshiro found your appearance lovely despite it all.

“you should head to bed soon.” he says, approaching the table you were currently working on. you looked up, surprised to see him awake at this hour. but you put your focus back on your work, not even giving him a second glance—which surprised the vice captain. he reads on whatever you were working on, noticing that they were mostly reports of kaiju no. 9. 

“researching on kaiju no. 9, i see. need a hand?”

“there’s just something off about him and i can’t put my finger on it. also thanks, but no thanks. i can handle this myself, vice captain.”

“it’s almost two in the morning, are you sure about that?”

he didn’t quite catch on to what your reply was, but he was positive that you just declined his offer either way. hoshina decides to pull up the chair beside you and grab the small stack of reports in front of you. he rotates the lamp a bit in his direction, but just enough to leave some light for you to read as well if you needed to.

you sigh at him. “vice captain, you really don’t have to—”

“but i want to. it’s the least i could do.”

truth be told, you really can’t bring yourself to be in the presence of the vice captain now. everything was just confusing. you were aware that the vice captain doesn’t really like paperwork in general (who even likes paperwork in the first place?) but you don’t get why he’s so insistent on helping you every time he finds you here.  

you don’t get why he likes your company so much. you considered yourself to be plain, a bit mundane for someone to actually spend some time with. especially when your interests don’t really spark any others for the most part. 

and while you may be a hopeless romantic, you weren’t foolish. even if you like the vice captain who’s currently making an effort to help you with your work, he’s just way out of your league. he’s too high to reach, and you were sure as hell that he would never actually look at you in that way. not now, not ever.

but why? why does a part of you keep saying that maybe he does? he wouldn’t do all of that if he didn’t actually look at you in that way, right? hope is a dangerous thing for someone who doesn’t know how to stop. for someone like you who refuses to give up on most occasions. it was stupid. foolish. naive.

not now, not ever would hoshina soshiro actually look at you that way.

“vice captain, please get some rest.”

“i could say the same to you.”

god, why is this man so stubborn? is he not tired from all the late night training he does? you thought, slowly getting frustrated. hoshina tells you his observations based on the reports in his hands and shares his hypothesis on the matter. he had some valid points and he’s lending a great hand at the moment. but frustration was just getting the best of you at the moment from your numerous trains of thought.

“the fact that he can adapt so easily is scary in itself. and the recent report of him breaking in the operations room in the first division states that—”

“why are you doing this?” you cut him off.

hoshina stares at you, dumbfounded at your question. he opens his mouth to answer, but no words actually come out of him. he chuckles bitterly in his mind. soshiro would like an answer to that question as well. but then it dawned on him. every flashed across his mind in seconds, and he finally realized it.

yet the result of that still scared him.

he was in love. hoshina soshiro is in love—with you nonetheless. the person he swore was just a friend. it took him quite a while to realize it, always being in denial that it was just normal for friends to act the way you two were. but he was in love. and that scared him. because what is he supposed to do when he finally realizes that you have consumed him? he never wanted this to happen, not in a million years.

but perhaps he was in love with you long before he started tripping along the lines of being friends and something more.

why are you doing this? your question echoed in his head. because i love you, he swallows back down his throat. he can’t say it. there’s no way things would work out. he could die any day and he’d rather not see you miserable because of his death. it would be better if you found someone else—but how ironic. he couldn’t really handle the thought of you being with someone else in the first place.

why are you doing this? your question echoes again. “because i love you.” he finally says, hesitant even. hesitant to know what you’re reaction was going to be. your eyes went wide at the sudden confession, and hoshina was certain that you wouldn’t believe him (well, he couldn’t really believe it either). “you’re kidding me,” you replied.

“i’m not.”

and surely enough, the look on the vice captain’s eyes said it all. he was dead serious. "i... why?” it's ten past two in the fucking morning, and you were too scared to accept that all of this was occurring right now, so you were afraid to ask. you were too scared to just randomly wake up and realize that maybe it was all a dream. too scared to believe that your feelings are being reciprocated.

“because you’re different—different to me, if that makes sense. it’s like you have this effect when it comes to me. food tastes better whenever i share a meal with you; my day just feels more peaceful whenever i get to see you’re doing fine, and i realized that maybe i haven’t actually looked at you like a friend or coworker for as long as i can remember; i was just too stupid to realize it earlier.” he avoids his gaze for a moment before looking at you again.

“i love you. i want you to look at me and love me too. we’ve come too far to turn back. i’m already too deep into you.”

you were speechless. 

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. it repeated like some sort of chant inside of your head as you processed everything. hoshina soshiro loves you back—who would’ve thought? you hadn’t realized that he was sitting so close to you. the tension was so thick, but you easily cut it down as you started with your response.

“you’re an amazing man, vice captain, and i truly cannot grasp how you could feel such feelings towards me, but i love you too.” you could see hoshina jump in his seat in shock at your confession, but you continued. “i love you in ways you have never been loved, for reasons that you may not have been told, for longer than you think you deserve and with more than you will ever know existed inside of me. yet i can’t help but still wonder… how? why? wait no, why was already answered—”

he chuckles at you. stopping you with your words. “what’s so funny?” you pouted at him. “it’s nothing. i just can’t believe that we’re seriously having this moment at two in the morning.”

“sorry, i think that may have been on my part. i kind of snapped there because i was just so… confused.”

“confused?”

“yeah, confused if we’ve crossed the line between friends or lovers without actually realizing it. crazy, right?”

hoshina moves a bit closer to you, making the distance between the two of you smaller than before. he puts his forehead against yours. “not really, but i look at you, and i just love you, and it terrifies me. it terrifies me what i would do for you. i’m in love but i’m also terrified—that’s what i think is crazy.”

“then let’s be terrified together,” you whispered to him.

a soft laugh leaves his lips this time. “i like the sound of that.” he whispers back.

he loves you.

and you love him back.

that’s all what matters.

love, in general, can make you feel all sorts of things. joy, confusion, anger, fear, and many more. it can also make you do all sorts of things. it can make you do things you never really imagined doing for or with someone in the first place. it tends to be irrational—ridiculous, even. but the thought of doing all of it for the person you care most about? you finally realized that’s simply what love is all about for you.

to love is something you truly cannot name.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

So! I know you did inexperienced villain with a hero that's been there for a long time but what if it was the opposite? The hero is new (could possibly be thrown a lot of work without knowledge on how to do them, pretty naive and just wanted to save everyone) and they found the villain but they're nervous and pretty awkward. You're singlehandedly saving the heroxvillain prompt tumblr and I've been reading every single one godbless

-I,A

“Oh.”

“Oh indeed.” The villain cocked their head and observed the hero calmly. They didn’t have their suit on, had barely anything on and yet, the hero was terrified of that seemingly normal person staring at them.

“I…sorry, this must be the wrong address,” the hero muttered. It shouldn’t have been that terrifying — after all, the villain didn’t have any weapons (the hero knew of) on them and altogether, they seemed to be getting ready for bed.

But, hell, the things the villain was able to do were beyond horrifying. The hero had done their research, had educated themselves on everything the data system had to offer. No matter how many times they updated the system, every time they read the same thing.

Weaknesses: Unknown.

It wasn’t necessarily the violence. It was the intimidation and the blackmail. It was their choice of words and how they looked at people. The villain was so incredibly careful with everything they did, it even surprised the hero how they’d come this far.

“No, you have the right address,” the villain said. The hero felt quite stupid where they stood in the living room. The window was still open from their rough entry and they considered just jumping out of it. That would have probably been the first smart decision of theirs today. “You’re that newbie.”

“I—” Their face started to heat up. The villain knew about them? The hero had made one public appearance and that had been a month ago. One. One.

“Wow. You’re impressive, detective.” The villain crossed their arms in front of their chest and smiled. They had dimples. “How many graveyard shifts did you work through to figure this out?”

“I…I’m arresting you.”

“Technically, you can’t arrest me and heroes aren’t supposed to say that.” The villain shook their head and tutted. “You could get into big legal trouble for that.”

The hero’s eyes widened. That sounded plausible but they couldn’t remember if it was true. They couldn’t tell if the villain was lying to them or not.

“Crap,” the hero whispered. They looked down at the ground just for a split second and then, suddenly, the villain pushed them into their armchair and got on top. Somehow, they were pressing a knife against the hero’s ribcage.

“Nononono— wait, please—” the hero begged, putting their hands on the villain’s sturdy shoulders to push them away. It didn’t really change anything, though.

Their heartbeat skyrocketed and they started to panic.

They felt so stupid. Of course they hadn’t called for backup. Of course they hadn’t told anyone about their current location. Of course they were totally gonna die on this chair.

“Mmm,” the villain hummed, satisfied by the hero’s reactions. “How did you find me?”

“Ahh— analysing your routes and mapping and please don’t kill me—” The villain chuckled softly but the hero didn’t feel any more comfortable. They were so close that the hero didn’t even dare to let out a breath.

Their enemy’s eyes were on them, studying them relentlessly. The hero could feel the warmth of their skin under their fingertips, right there where they touched the villain’s bare shoulders.

“Gosh, you’re adorable.” The villain let out an honest laugh and leaned in. They seemed to be very invested in this. “Did you put up any cameras?”

“…no, I reckoned you’d find them—”

“You’re damn right about that. How’d you do it, then?” They moved the knife and finally, the hero allowed themselves to breathe again. The villain let the knife disappear and the hero prayed it wouldn’t show up between their ribs next.

“I asked for the footage from stores or cafés…and I, uh, sometimes I spent a few hours on rooftops.”

“Mmm. Dedicated. I like that. What did you do then?” the villain asked. Their hand was still on the hero’s shoulder and their other one on the armrest of the chair. It was quite impossible to break free, especially with the villain being merciful enough to put away the knife.

The hero didn’t want to risk anything.

Besides, the hero was clearly no match for them.

“I documented everything. And then I took a map of the city and started to draw your routes…I considered the sewer system, too. I got twenty-eight different locations where you come from and disappear to regularly.”

“Why’d you choose this one?”

“There’s a supermarket across the street. I figured you wouldn’t have much time for grocery shopping. So, after a fight or something you could still get some food.”

“Is that so?” The villain’s mouth curled into a smile again. “You’re actually wrong about that but the rest is thoroughly impressive. I guess you’re very lucky. Good job.”

“Oh, I—”

“I hope the agency gives you a promotion,” they said. With their hand, they pushed loose strands of their own hair out of their eyes. “And I’m sorry we have to meet under…these conditions.”

They looked down at their own half-naked body and the hero followed their gaze. Which they regretted quickly. Their entire head must’ve been red.

“Listen, I really don’t want any trouble, well, I mean I am obviously here to catch villains, but technically you’re not…you’re technically not at work right now...right?” The villain grinned again, showing their dimples once anew.

“Are you on patrol, yet?”

“…in two months,” the hero said.

“Two months? C’mon, I can’t wait that long. How can I contact you?”

The hero blinked. Their mouth was dry. “What?”

“I can leave you a note at the library’s front desk.” They leaned in, tickling the hero’s neck with their breath. The hero’s heartbeat spiked. “Does that sound good?”

“Oh— sure?”

“Great!” The villain took the hero’s hand and pulled them out of the chair. They bumped against each other clumsily and the hero felt, once again, incredibly stupid. “Oh, give this to your boss, will you?”

They gave them the knife they had threatened the hero with. They led them towards the door and pushed them gently into the hallway.

“Wait, before I throw you out completely—” their gaze darkened only a little “—don’t put your nose into any villain’s business like that ever again. Especially when you do not have the experience yet. Got it?”

The hero looked at the knife in their hands and then at the villain.

They nodded. The villain winked.

And then the door closed.

At least they didn’t have to climb out of the window.

[pawnshopbleus]

The Morning After

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader

Summary - After the events of On Top, Tigris has a talk with ​Coriolanus.

Warnings - mentions of sex, fluff, not beta read

Author's Note - This is going to be very short and sweet because Thanksgiving break is ending and I have school tomorrow (I don’t want to go back. Someone please save me.)

The sun came up and shined over all of Panem. Its golden rays snuck through Coriolanus’s window, accentuating the curves of your body. Last night was one of the best nights he’s had in a while. He held you close, not wanting to let you go. He could stay like this forever. His skin could mend itself into his sheets and he wouldn’t care. As long as he had you by his side. 

You stirred awake a little while later. Even though the sun was up, Coriolanus’s room was still cold. You pulled the sheets closer to your body and yawned. 

“Good morning,” Coriolanus whispered as he kissed the naked skin of your shoulder. 

You let out another yawn in response. “Good morning. What time is it?” 

Coriolanus looked at the pocketwatch on his end table. “It’s ten in the morning.”

Your body shot up. You were supposed to be home two hours ago. Your mother had set up a meeting for you at one of the boutiques in the Capital. You’d expressed interest in working for your own money which made both of your parents proud. Little did they know that the money wasn’t just for you, but for your future with Coriolanus. 

“I have to go,” you said as you threw your clothes back on. Your tardiness wouldn’t be appreciated, but nobody would care. No matter how much you don’t like it, rules don’t apply to people like you. People who could afford to buy ten boutiques and still have money left over. 

You quickly kissed Coriolanus on the cheek before darting out of the Snow residence. 

Coriolanus sighed as he craved the warmth of your body again. He wanted to know why you left his home so fast, but you would tell him. You always tell him everything.

Coriolanus sat up and stretched his sore muscles and joints. He followed your lead and put his clothes back on. As much as he loved you, he didn’t want people to know what the two of you shared last night. Fresh scratch marks lined his back, serving as a reminder of what had conspired only a few hours ago. He hissed as he ran a hand down his back. He was lucky that you had barely missed his stitches. He loved you, but you could be reckless sometimes. 

He slowly opened his door, silently praying that Tigris and Grandma’am were still asleep. He checked around the corner and he couldn’t see anything or anyone. The coast was clear, or so he thought. 

Coriolanus walked into the kitchen with unmatchable swagger and a smug smile on his lips. But when he saw Tigris sitting at the kitchen table with two steaming cups of coffee, he knew he was in trouble. 

“Good morning, Coryo. Have a seat.” Tigris’s tone was calm as always. That eased his mind a little, but he hoped that she wouldn’t talk about what happened last night. 

“Where did you get the coffee?” He slid a mug closer to himself and observed the dark liquid in it. He hadn’t had coffee in a long time. He took a sip of it and let the bitterness settle onto his tongue. He could taste a faint trace of sugar. It was probably the last of the sugar they had in the cupboard, but as the sweetness hit his tongue, all he could think about was you. 

“It was in the basket,” Tigris motioned to the basket on the countertop. 

He remembered that Grandma’am had told him about the basket in passing. He hadn't registered that you were the one who brought the basket for them.

“Now, Coryo. We need to talk.” Tigris took one of Coriolanus’s hands into hers. Just like Coryo, Tigris has slim and bony hands. Their fingers interlaced and Tigris looked into his eyes. “The walls aren’t that thick. I know what happened last night.” 

Coriolanus closed his eyes in embarrassment. He couldn’t look his cousin in the eyes. Now it was evident that the Universe didn’t answer his prayers. 

“Hey, it’s okay. There’s no need for you to be embarrassed. I just want to make sure you’re being safe.” 

“Yes, we are,” Coriolanus said as he continued to avoid eye contact. Last night was the first time he didn't pull out. The two of you were clean and there was a low chance that you would get pregnant. 

“Good,” Tigris let go of his hand and continued, “So, did you do everything I told you?”

Tigris had always been there for Coriolanus. She was his number-one supporter and confidant. No matter what, Coriolanus would trust Tigris with anything, but sometimes Tigris would do and say things that made Coriolanus want to scream.

“Tigris!” Coriolanus hid his head in his hands. 

Tigris smirked at her younger cousin's antics. She was proud of him for finding someone to love him as he was. Coriolanus had so much to offer to the world, but not enough money for the world to take him seriously. 

The rest of the morning was spent with the two of them laughing and smiling as their conversation shifted away from sex. Even Though the universe didn't answer Coriolanus' petty prayers, he is glad for one thing though. He’s grateful that the universe brought him the most powerful, beautiful, strong, and caring women in all of Panem. 

-------------------------------

@positivelyholland @klausluvshybrids I hope you guys liked it 🤓

[sabersandsnipers]

Drabble: Touch Starved

Request:

okok tav x touch starved astarion. buttttt what if astarion x touch starved reader??

When his arm brushes against yours as he sits next to you, shivers cause your spine to lock up with pleasure. The fire in front of you seems dim compared to the burning within you at Astarion’s proximity. Your body wants to sing for him.

You pray he doesn’t notice the way your body reacts to the brush of his skin against yours, but Astarion is observant, and trained to notice the body’s response to any kind of stimulation.

“Are you alright, darling?” he asks, a small smirk crawling onto his face. 

You clear your throat, heat brushing along your face. “Yes, sorry.”

You don’t offer any explanation. But he knows what’s going through your head. All the sly looks and stolen glances over the past couple months…he knows what you crave. 

“May I?” he asks, gesturing to the small space between you two. 

You search his expression, examining him for his motives. But the exhaustion of the day stops you, and you simply nod your head. 

He scooches closer to you, allowing your legs to bump against each other. You nearly cry out at the feeling of his strong legs against yours. It’s been so long since you felt an intimate touch of any kind. 

Even if his actions aren’t ones of love, the feeling of his body this close to yours has you going mad. 

And he knows it. He’s been through such feelings himself. He can tell by the shaking breaths leaving your lips, by the way you lean into his touch, that you crave him. 

He tentatively places an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his broad chest. You have to smother the whimper that almost leaves your lips. You’re not quite sure how to react to this, but you’re grateful to have him sit with you for a bit.

Your heart flutters as you feel his fingers begin to trace your spine. The feeling is glorious, and it's unbelievable to you how much you've craved his touch.

"Thank you," you whisper, unsure of what else to say.

Then he begins to play with the stray strands of your hair, and you feel yourself getting more and more lost in his touch.

[littlexdeaths]

sometimes you gotta improvise, right?

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

side note: eddie x reader have been sneaking around for about two & half months at this point so 🤭

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

your brother was on to you.

he’d noticed something was up with you for a few weeks, but he chose to say nothing until now. despite how careful you and eddie were, sid was far more observant than either of you gave him credit for.

eddie had been over with the rest of the corroded coffin guys for a listening party. metallic’s newest album had come out a few days prior, and they all wanted to be able to listen to it together.

while they were all stationed in your family basement, you were laid out on your bed watching a movie. your family video had finally gotten some copies of ghost, and you couldn’t wait to rent out the first copy after your afternoon shift wrapped up.

the august heat still hasn’t subsided, and the stuffy air in your room had you feeling a little restless. so you paused your movie and wandered down to the basement in search of a cold snack. and maybe part of you just wanted to have an excuse to see your boyfriend.

when you first wandered down the stairs, they hardly acknowledged you. the five of them too enthralled in listening to the unforgiven to notice your presence.

everyone besides eddie, he always noticed you.

you meet his lingering gaze with a shy grin before you open the chest freezer, reaching inside to pull out some freezee pops. and your brother finally takes notice of you then.

“so, mouse. when’s that boyfriend of yours coming for dinner?” sid asks casually, and your whole body tenses up.

you grip the cold treat tightly in your fist, turning to face your brother with a look of feigned confusion.

“what boyfriend?”

your brother just rolls his eyes, “the one i heard sneaking out your window last night.”

you can see the slightly panicked look on eddie’s face from your peripheral but you don’t dare look at him now.

“i really don’t know what you’re talking about, sid.”

while he was merely curious before, now he’s starting to get angry.

“come on, i know you’ve got some secret boyfriend you aren’t telling me about,” sid huffs, eyeing the side of your neck suspiciously.

“and if those hickeys are anything to go by—”

“steve!” you blurt suddenly, before your brother has a chance to question you further.

“huh?”

“i’m seeing steve harrington.”

it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room, and sid just stares at you in shock. he didn’t exactly know who to expect, but his high school rival wasn’t one of them. you can feel eddie glaring daggers into the side of your head, but you really can’t worry about that right now.

you were just praying that sid would buy your lie for the time being. at least until you and eddie could discuss how you were going to to go about telling him. so you weren’t exactly thinking of the ramifications of what said lie would bring.

but the next words that leave his mouth has panic filling your chest.

“well— harrington’s a dead man.”

[oinkinpigprince]

My friends(hostages) and I (tied them down and forced them to) watched the Texas chainsaw massacre one and two(I held them at gun point and kept wiggling happily) and I had silly little thoughts about my favorite little spleens :33(I love them so much it physically hurts)

I bet playing hide and seek w/ them would be a special kind of fun! Ik I have a lot of request for smiling friends and I pinky promise to get them done rlly soon this is just a little self indulgence

Hide and seek with the sawyer family!!!!!! Yeah!!!

Bubba

They are so bad at it, it hurts. Listen, they are so big and bulky and too excited to play, they can’t hide anywhere and they aren’t that creative.

Cabinets are a no go, under the bed is laughable, I think they’d be the type to try and hide under a bunch of stuffies

They’re most likely to be hiding in closets and maybe the bathroom, probably behind the couch is a good place to look

Although you can easily find them cause if he sees or hears you getting closer they might start to giggle, it’s just so much fun!!!!

But when you do find them, the chase is fucking on. They may not look it but they are quick, bubba just has a hard time rounding corners quickly so that’s where they have trouble :((

When you do finally tag them, they’ll squeal and grab you, spinning you around. THAT WAS SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!! You two may get told off but it’s worth it

Bubba finding you is a pretty similar story. They are very observant but they’re still pretty giggly. Also with their loud ass stomps you can hear them coming and quickly change spots

When they do find you, oh fuck it’s over, doesn’t even think just quickly grabs you and hugs you tight. THEY WON!! It’s a lot of fun but low key scary when you can hear their foot steps approaching.

Nubbins

Loudest person you’ve ever met, how hard could it be? Once that game starts and you finish counting that boy is GONE

Although nubbins is pretty tall at a generous 6’2 he is skinny and loves small spaces so he quickly finds the smallish space he can cram himself in

A space you’d never think of looking and he is silent, it’s like he disappeared off the face of the fucking earth. He’s happy too, he doesn’t get bored which is surprising.

Nubbins will just lay there happily day dreaming til someone else unintentionally finds him and he cusses them out. Then you find him

Nubbins doesn’t care for the chase as much as the hiding so you easily tag him, he just can’t wait to find you :o))))))

You can also hear nubbins, but his is more, taunting. He likes to pretend he’s hunting you, and oh boy, it feels like he’s threatening you. You can hear him from the hall “heeeeeere kitty kitty k-kitty kitty kitty, where are you?” Your blood runs cold

Sitting in your hiding space steadying your breathing praying he doesn’t find you, there no hell you’d be able to out run a man who spends all day racing cars to scrap dead animal corpses off hot pavement!

When it goes quiet and you think you’re in the clear. You peak out and don’t see anything, so you swallow your fear and quickly stalk out to go and change hiding spaces. Then BAM!! He got you! Ha! You should see your space

He howls as you scream curling his body around yours, he eats up your terrified screams. He just hugs you tight and lays on the ground as you squirm trying to get away, he’ll pepper the side of your face with kisses as he pinches your cheeks. You’re so cute when you’re scared!

Choptop

Oh Robby rob, oh dear Robert bobert, you asked him to play hide and seek, for fun! What’s the harm that could happen! You know this man a little eccentric, but you had zero clue what you got yourself into. Playing hide and seek, with a VIETNAM war vet

He agrees, excited as fuck. Never have you seen him agree so quickly to something. Before you finish saying the words he’s making you count to ten.

First round goes fine, it’s completely normal and not weird. He hit under a bed and then chased you around the house when he found you. Fun!

Next round, you looked around giddily, looking where trying to find him. You searched the whole house trying to find that man for 20 minutes. That’s when you stood in the living room and felt, something went drip onto your forehead. You looked up, HE WAS ON THE FUCKING CEILING AND HE SPAT ON YOU!!!

Laughed as you tried to tag him, taunting you and spat on you some more until you got a step stool and he just dropped, landed on all fours and scrambled away faster than god

You had to have nubbins AND bubba help you catch him. That man was unstoppable. He only relented after a while cause he wanted to have his turn seeking.

Waiting patiently for footsteps and you heard none. You figured maybe he was at the other side of the house. That’s when you glanced slightly and saw, a glimpse of a smiling man in your peripheral. Two inches away from your face.

Screaming you dashed for the exit with him hot on your trail. Chop was toying with you the entire time. Laughing, he was always just behind you. He could have caught you easily but just wanted to see you run from him

Have you seen where he was chasing stretch and he just leaped onto the bridge and climbed on. Yeah he did that to you, that man was not messing around

As soon as it started it ended with you cornered and panting, he didn’t even break a sweat. He just gently pats your face and says “got ya!” Before shouting ‘nam worl’ loudly and cheering.

He’s the whole reason I made these head canons, I don’t want to play hide and seek w/ him

Drayton

The biggest fucking party pooper. Every time you ask he always says “I’m too old for that kiddy shit.” Or “are ya trying to kill me? I ain’t spending my afternoon chasing you around”

His favorite is “how about I go hide in the living room with the tv and you go find a damn to give me.” Dick >:((((

If in the one is a TRILLION chance he says fine, to shut you up it’s a pretty normal game to be honest

He isn’t one for running around so he doesn’t put much of a fight. Just sorta “oh ya got me! Happy now?” Yeah, you are, now it’s his turn

Is a really good seeker he just doesn’t like to run. If you try and make him chase you he’ll just give up cursing “I have other shit to do than play CHILDRENS game” like down chill out

Okay listen, deep down he does find it, a LITTLE fun and likes seeing you and his brothers play but don’t play with him. He doesn’t have time for that shit 😭😭💅💅

[attapullman]

Good at Makin' Bad Decisions | Rhett Abbott

Summary: Even a year after you've broken up, after a night of drinking you still end up in Rhett Abbott's bed.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: f! reader, smut, 18+ ONLY as always, fingering, swearing, alcohol, healthy dash of praise k!nk as usual

A Note From Mo: I blame reading an old fic I desperately wanted to re-write and having covid, strep, and my period all at the same time for whatever the fuck this is. Anyway, happy 6 months since the last time I wrote Rhett! xoxo

There’s something about waking up in a bed that isn’t yours that causes an anxiety like none other. Especially when the night before is a hazy blur. And you aren’t wearing any pants.

Wait, where are your pants?

Creamy morning light bleeds through the thin plaid curtains in the room. From your spot half-buried under the comforter, you notice the vaguely familiar rodeo posters tacked up on the wall and dust-covered flannels on the floor. The slight tinge of boy sweat engulfs the room. Definitely not a Tillerson room, but who the fuck did you go home with?

A quick body scan results in these observations:

Your jeans were long gone, but cheekies and tshirt still remained.

Your head was splitting open from the axe of a bad hangover.

Based on the groan that did not come from your body, there was definitely another person in the bed. And they were awake.

You flip over in bed, panicked. Praying to God that beside you is some random Wabang townie. But you would know those dark, grown out curls anywhere. He may be turned toward the wall, but you know him better than you know yourself.

“Rhett?”

A tentative hand leaves the warm cocoon of blankets to roughly shove your ex’s shoulder. He grunts with consciousness and a veiny hand rises up to rub at his eyes. Takes a moment to rake through those unruly curls. Flipping over onto his back, bright ultramarine eyes quirk up at you. 

“Good mornin’ to y’too, sunshine.”

It’s hard to remember everything you want to say when he’s looking entirely too delectable for the morning hours. Something you’d sweetly told him during your relationship, but after your swift uncoupling it’s downright rude of him.

“Why am I in your bed?” His eyes roll slightly as he lifts up onto his right arm, rolling the thick, labor-built muscles of his neck and back. It’s mesmerizing, watching him work out the kinks that come with his profession. Your eyes unable to leave where his hand massages over that bronc tattoo you’re still weak over. “We didn’t sleep together, did we?”

He’s sexy as hell, but you’ve been doing a really good job avoiding him the past year.

“D’ya not remember any of last night?” Your head shakes, cheeks heating. “Not even a little? Oh fuck, really? You had quite t’night, darlin’.”

The color completely drains from your face. In your hey day, the two of you could drink the bar under the table, stumbling out of the Handsome Gambler with the sloppiest grins and even sloppier kisses. Drunken shenanigans were the norm. 

But since your breakup last year, nights out had been quiet. A beer or two, a tequila shot when the time called. Your friends don’t have the tolerance of a bull rider. And neither do you anymore, since you can’t remember much past that third shot of Don Julio.

How had you landed in bed with Rhett Abbott? 

As you watch him roll out his other shoulder, it’s like no time has passed since that night. Sitting in his truck, the front porch light on as your roommates wait for you to come in. Deciding that if he’s gonna be traveling the mountain states to make a name for himself, it’s not fair for you to be sitting at home worrying what bone would break. You can’t take off weeks to follow him around. You’re too young to sit around pining. He can’t handle all that time away from you. It just makes sense to call it quits. And yet tears poured down both your cheeks when you shut that truck door for the last time, Rhett Abbott no longer your business.

Why are you here?

Blinking back the ghost of tears, you clear your throat. “What kind of night exactly?”

In the past, a night of too much tequila in Rhett’s bed would have had Royal knocking on the door at an ungodly hour and Cecelia giving you an exasperated yet playful look when you snuck out the back door in the morning. 

“Do ya really want t’know what happened?” He’s leaning against the headboard, broad chest in view, sheets low on his hips. You say one last prayer that he’s wearing sweats so that you can still believe that you didn’t have a blackout fuck with your ex.

“I’m scared to ask,” you admit, the gentle smirk on his face confirming that this story is not going to paint you in a flattering light. 

Rhett’s head tilts down as he laughs, teeth flashing as the hearty grumble fills the room. Looks back up at you with that boyish mischievous grin you’ve loved for years. There’s a pillow indent still marring his cheek. Your heart lurches for him, for when you could call him yours.

His lip quirks. “Ya threw a rock at m’window in the middle o’the night. Begged me to let ya in. Told ya to go home, but ya threatened t’wake up my folks.”

Your cheeks flame with shame. Drunk you was not in your corner.

“Snuck ya in the back door, like ol’ times. Said yer friends had dropped ya off, so let ya stay until ya sobered up.” The burning embarrassment lifts a little, imagining you quietly climbing in bed and sleeping. But that unruly mischievous smile is back. “Then ya started tellin’ me how much you miss my cock and asked t’go for a ride.”

A hole opening in the earth and swallowing you couldn’t make you escape this embarrassment.

“Please tell me I didn’t-”

“Oh, but y’did, darlin’. It wouldn’t be a drunk night out with ya without asking for m’fingers. Practically gagging for it as I got ya upstairs.” He’s radiating pride. You risk a glance at those thick, calloused fingers. Yep, you can see yourself begging for even just one of them.

“Then ya started strippin’ off yer pants…forgot how cute yer booty looks shakin’ like that.” He lets out a joyful grunt, the happiest sound a cowboy ever did make. “Had to hold yer hands to yer side to keep it from bein’ a free strip show.” 

You swallow down every ounce of your dignity, the scene playing behind your eyes. Those strong hands wrapped around your biceps. Your cheeky comments, grinding your ass on any part of him you could. The lack of inhibitions on your part was concerning, but when had you ever been able to restrain yourself when it came to Rhett?

His giggles fade as you both sit against the rough wooden headboard, the one that is nearly as old as this creaky house. In the silence of the room you can now hear the busy sounds of his folks making breakfast. Figures they still have that louder than sin coffee machine. You could really use a cup.

He shifts beside you, the energy in the room softer. “Ya know, after y’fell asleep, I kept on thinkin’ about all the times ya stayed over here. Nights in the pasture. We were s’good…” He trails off, the silence filled with reminders of rushed kisses between rides, lazy afternoons on horseback, and too many days spent in the barn pretending to do chores while the two of you fell in love. 

It was you. You couldn’t handle the broken bones. The purpled bruises week after week. He loved it, and you couldn’t take that from him. So you had left a part of yourself with him and spent the past year pretending like you weren’t missing a limb. It was him. He didn’t want to be always missing home. Canceling rides purely so he could drive hours back here. He cut his losses before he was in too deep, spending the last year acting like a chunk of his heart wasn’t permanently cemented in you.

When you two crossed paths in town you exchanged sad glances and half-hearted smiles. Nights at the Handsome Gambler a drink was raised in greeting. It was as painful and as amicable as a breakup could be. But this was the closest the two of you had been since that night in his truck. The most you’d spoken other than forced hello’s. The most you’d touched since that last kiss goodbye.

Looking into those impossibly deep oceans he calls eyes, there was an emotion that you couldn’t read. His smile gone, thin lips bitten as he worried them between his teeth. Mirth replaced with angst.

You need to get out of here.

“M’sorry for interrupting your night. You know my libido has her own brain when I drink. Give me ten and I’ll be out of your hair - think Ce will notice me going out the back door?”

You’re barely off the bed when an arm, all hard muscle and thick veins, wraps around your bicep and brings you to a warm chest. “I-I…just for a minute, ‘kay?”

It’s the best you’ve felt in so long. Safe, warm. He’d shaped perfectly to accommodate you. It’s only natural to scoot closer into him, blurring the lines of ended relationships to seek his comfort.

Rhett’s heartbeat is solid beneath your cheek, speed picking up when you curl into him and run your hand along his side. The rumble of his chest vibrates as he clears his throat. “Ya don’t have t’ leave. I like havin’ ya here, missed holding’ ya, yer so soft.”

You hum in agreement and then there’s a beat, and you can almost see the bashful grin splitting his face. “And yer s’sexy in those panties.”

At least you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.

One of those perfectly large, comforting hands slides down your side, hitching your hip up so you can straddle his thigh. That thick expanse of pure muscle was exactly where you belonged.

You were already here, already embarrassed yourself. Might as well go the whole way.

“Rhett?” His eyes latch onto yours, eager to hear from you. “I don’t have to go. If you want to, uh, catch up?” If his hungry smirk wasn’t an indicator, the twitch in his boxers below speaks volumes.

Aware there’s an old house with no sound proofing and an entire family downstairs eating bacon, he rolls you over onto your back, rippling biceps boxing you in. That confident smirk that looks as in place in bed as it does atop a two ton bull. The hungover logic in your brain pleading you to go home not nearly as strong as the instant spring of your legs landing either side of his hips.

His lips ghost over yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitance. The slightest groan left you, eager to feel him. Taste him.

“Please…please don’t tease me.” His smirk is bordering on arrogant as you wrap impatient hands around strong shoulders. Your libido was making her triumphant return after not being satisfied the night before, pooling in the apex of your thighs as he presses against you. You want Rhett, and you want him now.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, a shadow of the real thing. “If y’can be quiet f’me, I’ll give you m’fingers, darlin’.”

Dignity fades to the back of your brain as you quickly nod at him, lips pressed close like a good girl.

Scruff scratches along your jaw as he hums along your skin, pressing his weight to one side as calloused fingers make their way south, slipping and catching against your soft skin. Both your eyes fluttering as cotton is pushed aside and he finds your clit, rubbing the softest of circles. His little chuckle at how wet you already are. Small whimpers leaving you before he finally tilts his head down to smother your lips in a warm, soft kiss.

Fuck, he’s an even better kisser than you remember.

Running a hand through those unruly curls, letting the dark hair tangle between your fingers as you fight to keep your moans contained. A struggle as he presses deliciously on the button, delighted at how you squirm against him. Lips ghosting against your ear as he moans your name. “Doin’ s’good for me.”

While his thumb continues its mind numbing descent on your clit, the tips of his fingers brush against your folds. He knows you love a tease, the promise of what’s to come. His special trick to getting you to your orgasm in less time than he rides a bull.

“R-Rhett.” Your voice is barely audible, struggling to keep yourself from screaming his name to the heavens. Your fingers never feel this good, nothing could ever be as satisfying as his touch. Your pathetic whimpers picking up speed as the blinding white pleasure threatened to overtake you.

“Are ya gonna cum for me, darlin’? Y’know y’want to. Cum for me, baby girl, show me how good I make y’feel.”

Scruff against your neck and jaw as he showers you in kisses, whispers praises in your ear, fingers stroking and rubbing and bringing you closer to the promised land. Slips that wild tongue between your lips, groaning at your familiar taste, and that’s all it takes.

A thousand years could pass and you would still remember how all-consuming every orgasm is that Rhett Abbott has given you. The flash behind your eyes, the constriction of your chest. Thanking the good Lord that Rhett’s tongue is deep in your mouth to shush the pleasured scream that threatens to escape. 

You settle from your orgasm with soft kisses and his wet fingers trailing along your skin, soothing you. Not that it’s easy to be soothed when his erection is throbbing against your thigh. He’s hot and ready, prepared to take you all the ways he’s denied himself the past year.

You’re doing the mental math. Your ex giving you an orgasm isn’t that bad. Fucking him? That’s the kind of mistake you can’t undo and should be avoided.

But when you look in those midnight blue eyes, all reason hightails out the door. It’s just sex - not a relationship - you two are so good at sex. And it’s been so long since you’ve taken him for a proper ride.

Your fingers sink into the back of his boxers, itching to sink your fingers into the meat of his ass - hard and toned from hours riding. Tease him a little by pressing a kiss to that scruffy chin as he ushers you along, desperate to be inside you.

Just as you get the checkered material past his cheeks, there’s a knock at the door. Rhett’s a deer in the headlights above you; wide, scared eyes aimed at the door.

It’s Cecelia, speaking through the wood as she walks past with the laundry. “Rhett, hurry up, y’got chores in the barn.” 

The two of you exchange a glance, relief at being in the clear.

“Oh, and sweetie? Since you’re still here, if you want breakfast, there’s some extra bacon.”

Abandoning my normal tag list since it's not Bob and tagging some fellow Rhett bb's who might enjoy: @bobfloydsbabe @sorchathered @bobgasm @auroralightsthesky @creatchie8 @just-in-case-iloveyou @ryebecca @sebsxphia @lewmagoo

[jeonscatalyst]

I don't get it. Taekookers and most ARMYs alternate from bragging that Jikook enlisting together 100% disproves that they are together, to praying with their entire souls that Jikook are not actually in the military together (that JK would go to Tae after 5 weeks of training). So which is it? Which really debunks the Jikook ship according to their standards? Jikook enlisting together? That their joint enlistment was only temporary and that JK went to Tae (even though they still brag that JK and Tae NOT enlisting together proves they are a couple)?

Why is the narrative so exhaustingly inconsistent? I can't believe those are the people Jikookers let get inside their heads and become all insecure over. I don't know when y'all are gonna wake up and realize that you're dealing with literal clowns here, and start learning to be mentally obstinate, for God's sake.

I'm not saying Jikook spaces should become an echo chamber where differing opinions and people expressing doubt about Jikook is not allowed, but there's a difference between a Jikooker who practices rational thinking and always *questions*, and someone who has been mentally broken down by Taekookers' narratives. You see it when they sulk about Jikook not being real because JK did this or did not do that, that he was in the same room with Taehyung, that he didn't ignore Taehyung and treated him like a human being and didn't interact with Jimin who was in another room, and now their shippers won't shut up about it so it means Jikook is not real.

Jikook shippers have become weak and pathetic, not gonna lie. And this space has become so miserable because of it, I never in all my time as an ARMY and Jikook observer, thought that Jikook spaces would ever come to this.

You know what funny though anon? It’s literally always been like this. Jikookers have always let taekookers get into their heads over the siliest things when it is obvious that taekookers have always wanted the things jikook did to happen for taekook. Let me give you a good example. Can you remind me again what tkkrs said when the travel show was first announced? Didn’t they call it scripted and fanservice? Didn’t they laugh at the fact that we were going to be getting merch and a photobook? Didn’t they claim that jikookers were stupid as hell for thinking that the company would make a travel show for two closeted idols? Can you tell me what is happening now? Aren’t they the same people using moments from that same “scripted show” to prove their ship? Aren’t they the same ones getting hit tweets from posting moments from the show they have spent a year insulting? Now look at them making their own merch from the same show they called “scripted fanservice”

Look at the likes. You wouldn’t believe this is from the same show these exact same people insulted for a whole damn year.

Anon, taekookers only insult the things jikook do that they desperately want for their ship.

When Jikook traveled together it didn’t mean shit

When Jikook were the only two who were constantly seen in and out of work hanging out, it didn’t mean shit

When Jikook shared a car for years, it didn’t mean shit

When jungkook listened to Jimin’s songs it didn’t mean shit.

When the travel show was announced, it didn’t mean shit

When Jikook enlisted together, it meant they were not in a relationship

But what happened when similar things happened with taekook or when they thought something similar would happen with taekook? They suddenly made a complete turn and acted like they didn’t say all that shit before.

The last thing anyone should be worrying about is what a damn taekooker has to say about Jikook. There is more than enough proof that shows that these people have ALWAYS wanted everything that jikook had and that is the real reason why they are so nasty.

[fabiotheguitar]

i want to expand on what Ayesha might mean when she says being queer and Muslim is complicated as a queer Muslim myself bc I’ve seen some people not quite hit the nail on the head.

first is that it is not a universal opinion among Muslims that having a gay romantic or sexual partnership is a sin. that depends on how you interpret the story of Lut alayhi salam, which most schools of thought have extrapolated to be about gay relationships. It might be the mainstream view, but that does not give it religious or scholarly credibility per se. the Quran itself says nothing negative about queerness.

second is that Islam is not unique in being manipulated and twisted as an excuse for homophobia. that has happened in so many cultures and religions and societies. nothing specific about the Quran actually says that being gay is a sin/gay people should be killed etc (just to be clear the people who say that are making it up to validate their homophobic violence. you know how that goes)

really, Ayesha hits the nail on the head when she talks about social relationships. when you’re a minority, if the sheikh or imam or the community is homophobic you can’t just pick up and go somewhere else. this is your community, and you experience so many beautiful things with them. we pray shoulder to shoulder. you aren’t supposed to ignore or shun people. in Islam we have many obligations that are fulfilled through community (giving charity, walking to the masjid, praying in congregation, celebrating eid). this is who you celebrate with, who you mourn with, who you go to for guidance and advice.

the other complicating factor is that many Muslim women observe hijab (wearing a headscarf, physical separation of men and women) in part to create a space where they can exist without being sexualized or even talking about sexuality at all. the expectation is that when you make wudhu, change clothes, etc in front of other women that they aren’t sexualizing you. but if you are attracted to women, even when you lower your gaze and don’t notice their appearances, it feels like an invasion of their privacy. being a lesbian Muslim involves a degree of questioning where you fit into your community, what spaces are and aren’t for you.

the last thing and something i think Ayesha portrayed so well is that when you love your religion, when you love your community, rejection from your community hurts more. especially when they think they’re being kind. heteronormativity becomes rejection. hesitancy around queerness becomes rejection.

the fact that the question would even be asked, how is it to be queer and Muslim, is basically like saying hey, I’m curious about which ways you’ve been rejected by your community or how they fail to meet your needs. please justify your continued relationship with them and your religion so i can judge you and them. and how is that a fun experience for a queer person? underneath all the jokes we like to make, rejection does hurt. even when it comes from people who are kind and loving and just biased or misunderstanding.

this isn’t a character analysis of Ayesha particularly (but I definitely want to do one)! i just wanted to put this out here for anyone not Muslim who was wondering what was up with those scenes

[famemonsterrr]

Astrology observations part 9🪽

(Disclaimer: the observations aren’t fact and if you can’t relate with my opinions and experiences it’s okay)

- Cancers and Leos are a really good couple and something I see a lot around. They just naturally attracted to each other

- Scorpio/water placements and Capricorns love horror film movies

- why Leo’s are marrying so many times in their lives? (hi Jennifer Lopez girly I’m talking to you). Like either they will get marry once and then break up and date all the time or either will marry a lot of times.

- cancers are a ball of chaos…like I have seen them doing the most unhinged stuff also they are savages. I love it sooo much tho 🫶🏻

- fire signs are indeed risk takers in any form they prefer. From doing something new in their work life or just doing extreme sports.

- whenever I see a Leo and libra couple I always see them as bugs bunny and Lola from looney tunes show.

- I have seen a lot of people with Pisces placements especially moon or Venus not be able to let go of their childhood. They always keep things or watch the same shows from their childhood (i do that a lot)

- Gemini can’t handle a lot of pressure.

- libra might be in a serious conversion and they might ask the most random shit. It’s sooo funny I love it

- fire signs love emojis and if they care about u are the best texters.

- earth signs women are so beautiful ✨ especially if u have a earth sign rising.

- Scorpio men have amazing humour idk why but they are funny af and they aren’t loud about nor tried hard. Same goes with Capricorn men.

- Gemini moons hope ur anxiety is better cause I pray for y’all 🤞🏻

- I wanna know why Leo women are rock baddies? Like I have seen a lot of rock singers either turn rock or always being rock.

- Pisces will NEVER let the past go…they will mention something someone did to them years ago and still be angry or hurt by it. (How about let it go girly pop🤌🏻)

- never and I mean NEVER make an Aquarius sun/ mercury feel stupid. They will get triggered sooo easily. Like they are proud of their brains.

- it’s soo weird but surprisingly dating the sign who is before or after you means u will have a good relationship. Because of the similar placements. (For example if you are a Pisces and you dating an Aries there is 50% chance of them to have Pisces mercury or Venus. If your date an Aquarius there is a chance of them have a Pisces Venus or the Pisces having an Aries Venus/mercury or Aquarius Mercury/venus)

That’s all

Im glad you read my post till the end. Im sooo greatful for it. 🫶🏻 stay healthy and hydrated 🫶🏻

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 08)

Soap/Reader — MDNI 18+

Sorry for the wait as usual. Hope y’all can forgive me!

/:/:/:/:/:/:/

FEBRUARY — FRIDAY: 7 days until the wedding

In the month or so after Christmas, your relationship with Johnny had progressed considerably. He was on a particularly challenging tour, but you only heard about his work in sparse mentions. Most of his conversations were centered around your relationship “after we tell Pidge”.

It was all he wanted to talk about.

“After we tell Pidge, we can look for a place together in Glasgow. What do you say, lass?”

“After we tell Pidge, we can take trips with them. Always wanted to see Iceland.”

“After we tell Pidge…”

And on and on and on. It wasn’t that you weren’t excited to be with him. You adored him, and he seemed to feel the same way about you. But, telling Pidge was scaring you out of your damn mind. In the worst case scenario, you’d be losing your best friend and the man that you…

Careful, that dark voice was back in your head , don’t want to say the word, huh?

The man that you… liked a considerable amount. Not love. Love was a commitment. You were not in love.

The dark voice cackled. You ignored it.

You were going to see him this weekend for the combination stag and hen party, and you could think of little else. But, you had plenty to work on. As the maid of honor, this was your time to shine. You needed to prepare for more than just seeing Johnny. In fact, you were about to have six girls at your tiny apartment for a slumber party tomorrow night. The whole 600 square feet of your place was decorated in gold glitter and streamers. There were big B-R-I-D-E letters above your bed, and a giant inflatable diamond ring was propped up on your futon. You’d already sprayed Marlowe twice with the water bottle for threatening it with her claws.

Tonight, though, you were alone. You had asked Johnny if he would fly in early, but he hadn’t been able to confirm. So, you were sitting on your bed, staring at your phone, dressed only in his shirt, praying for some miracle.

You stayed up as late as you could, but still no call.

SATURDAY — Early morning: 6 days until the wedding

Your phone buzzed where it lay against your chest. You slowly awoke, and it was still dark outside. Bleary and only semi-conscious, you picked it up without looking at the screen,

“Hello?” You croaked.

“Mo mèirleach,” he whispered, “Open the door, hen. It’s fuckin’ frigid.”

“What?” You didn’t understand. Johnny was outside? You looked at the clock. It was 0311.

“I’m downstairs! Buzz me up.”

You did, and then you waited, waking up more and more as you stood in the kitchen, drinking some water to clear your dry throat.

He knocked softly, and you let him in. Immediately, and without so much as dropping his rucksack, he pulled you into his arms. You smelled his sweat, a strong hint of fire or smoke, and something you couldn’t quite place. It was almost like gasoline, but not quite. He’d come straight from the field.

“Hey,” he pressed his forehead to yours and kissed you gently, smelling your skin and nuzzling into your hair.

“Hey,” you smiled up at him, hugging him a little tighter.

Having him back was making you feel like no time had passed at all. He held you just as he did when he told you goodbye in December, and now, all of January felt like some wasted dream.

You looked behind him,

“Where are the others? I thought you said they’d be coming to the party this weekend.”

“Put them up at a wee hotel. The Indigo, just a few blocks away. But, I’ve been sleepin’ on the fuckin’ floor too many nights, now. And I wanna be in my woman’s arms instead.”

His woman. Your heart clenched in your chest. He noticed your emotional response to his words; always the observant one. His smile felt so good, even though he had caught you in his snare,

“Aye. You’re my woman, aren’t you?”

Huge, rough hands warmed your skin as they snaked underneath your shirt, reaching up across your belly, finding your hanging breasts and squeezing them ever so gently.

“Shower with me, lass. I’m right filthy.”

“Alright,” you nodded, and he pulled your shirt off the rest of the way, discovering the nothing you were wearing underneath.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Johnny lamented, holding you at arm’s length to study your skin and curves with a deep admiration, “Look at you, mèirleach. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m dreamin’.”

You led him to the bathroom, which you doubted was big enough for the both of you, and he stripped off all of his dirty clothes. You helped him, peeling him apart, layer by layer, discovering him in pieces.

His broad chest filled your vision in the tiny washroom, and you latched onto his nipple, tasting the salt from his sweat as you did and listening to him moan. He laughed from the sudden sensation of it,

“It’s sensitive, lass. Easy…”

Your eyes found his, showing him that you knew what it felt like, and you did not relent. You enjoyed watching him squirm beneath you, his hands resting on the side of your neck, threatening to pull you away when he became overwhelmed.

You gave him a break, kissing across his tattooed ribs and over his belly. He lifted your face up to his, pressing you against the bathroom counter, growling in whispers at you,

“Careful, thief. Don’t go givin’ me ideas.”

“What kind of ideas, Johnny?” You teased, dragging his boxers down over his plump ass to squeeze his cheeks in your hands.

“Ideas about what I’d like to put in that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

He grabbed your hand and shoved it onto his hard cock, still covered by his boxer briefs, the fabric askew and taut, ready to come off.

“See what you fuckin’ do to me, thief?”

You smiled, staring down at the evidence of what you had done to him. You took his hand and slowly moved it between your legs, letting him curl and experimental finger up just far enough to dip into your wetness.

“See what you do to me?”

He shuddered, his body falling forward, and he caught himself with his free hand on the countertop, pinning you beneath him. He was playing inside of you with his fingertip, as achingly slowly and gently as could be, barely moving it, basking in your warmth. His face contorted into a twisted grimace, and he grunted,

“Fuckin’ hell, mèirleach. Get in the damn shower, or I’ll have you right here, lass.”

The shower curtain rings hissed across their metal rod as he followed you inside. You washed your hair, and you used your soapy hands to wash his. The soap turned brown with dirt and sand, and you made a face, laughing,

“Johnny! You are filthy.”

“Yeah, we ran into some trouble at the end of our mission. Lost contact with base. Had to camp in the wee mountains for a few nights, tryin’ not to freeze to death.”

“Holy shit…”

You pitied him, using your vanilla scented soap to scrub down his body for him, letting him be treated to your sudsy massage.

“Knowin’ I was comin’ back to you kept me goin’. I dreamt about this wee shower, hen. Even Ghost was surprised that I was able to keep my whingin’ to a minimum. But, I knew you were here and I wasnae gonna let anythin’ stop me from comin’ home to you.”

He bent to kiss you, and you kissed him back, letting the water wash over you both, bathing you in the heat of each other. He pulled away, grinning like he’d won something, and you felt the blush rise into your cheeks.

You made the hand signal for him to turn around and he spun, giving you his wide back, planting both of his hands on the wall like you were going to search him.

You started at his neck, washing away days of dirt and grime, feeling his swollen muscles pull and push against his bones. He had a new tattoo on his spine. It was a little Gaelic word that you couldn’t read.

With your fingertip, you traced over the black ink, softly rubbing over the raised skin, healed but fresh. He stilled, realizing you’d noticed it.

“Gealladh. It means ‘promise’.”

You wiped it clear of soap and lay your lips to it, kissing it softly, making him tremble beneath you. You tried to pronounce it, whispering it against his skin.

The rest of the shower went quickly, and by the time you were clean, he was ready to get dirty again, fondling you and rubbing across his curved length hungrily.

He wrapped you in your towel and watched you braid your hair, kissing your neck and sharing your toothbrush. You tried not to be grossed out by it, but you made a face and he rolled his eyes, spitting out the paste into your sink and trying to kiss you with his messy lips. You giggled, leaving him in the bathroom to finish up.

The cool air in your apartment made you clamber to get under the covers, eager to warm up and anxious for him to join you. He sauntered out of the bathroom looking like some Greek god, wet and tanned, tattooed and scarred, fresh from the bonds of war.

He threw his towel down with yours and climbed into bed next to you, curling you up in his arms, sighing with the most delighted contentment. His big jaw pressed into the side of your neck, looking for purchase, and he began to suck and lick at your skin, traveling down your shoulder to your nape, sending shivers down your arms.

“Did you miss me, mo mèirleach?” His voice was so quiet, you could barely hear him.

“I did, mo chridhe,” you whispered back, turning your body to face him.

He took both of your hands in both of his and kissed your forehead. All of his sexual overtones and lurid advances in the shower had somehow been washed away, and as the orange blush of dawn came through your window, he looked changed. His hair was soft, the mohawk all grown out and curling at the tips, his eyes glassy and full of something that looked suspiciously like hope.

“I know this has been hard on you, lass. I’ve been more than just a wee bit selfish, and I want you to know I’ll make it right. I promise you that. Do you hear me?”

You nodded, pressing your cheek to his chest, inching closer to him. He wrapped you in a tight hug, holding you too close.

Did you believe him? Would everything work out for the best? Or were you continuing down a path that would lead to ruin? How easy it was for him to convince you of the opposite. He could lead you like a lamb to the slaughter, and you’d go willingly, bleating up at him with all your love and affection as he pushed you into the chute.

His arm became heavy, and you heard his breaths lengthen in his chest, and you knew he was asleep. You had an alarm set, so you curled up in his warmth, letting him doze, allowing yourself to sink into the murky blackness of sleep along with him.

SATURDAY — Lunchtime: 6 days until the wedding

Johnny had changed into something clean and left you in bed, kissing your face and promising all sorts of filthy things to you after the bar crawl tonight. He begged you to dance with him when you wound up at the club, washing away your worries about Pidge, claiming she’d be too drunk to notice. You rushed him out, warning him she’d be here for lunch, and washed your sheets.

Sure enough, your phone rang and Pidge was outside your apartment, screaming with six other girls to be buzzed up not an hour after Johnny left, and you breathed a sigh of relief they’d missed each other coming and going.

You had the whole day planned out. Lunch was at a little cafe near the river, perfect for a photo op or two. Then, you’d booked a nail salon for mani-pedis for the whole squad. After that, it was back to the apartment to put on your faces before going “out-out”.

For the most part, the day had been a wild success. Pidge was already a little tipsy from the non-stop mimosas, and even though your bank account had seen better days, it wasn’t that bad. Now, you were in the middle of the evening ferality. Someone had ordered a pizza and there was hairspray in places you didn’t think hairspray could go. Marlowe was hiding in her cubby under your bed, and you were already done getting ready.

You’d told everyone it was black and white themed. Ham and Pidge would be in white, with all of you in black, and the goal at the end of the night was for them to find each other by hopping from bar to bar. The stag would chase the hen through downtown Glasgow, and you’d planned to have them all end up at The Berkeley Suite.

There were girls everywhere. It was like a bomb had gone off in your apartment, and there wasn’t really a space for privacy except for the bathroom (as long as you shooed everyone out of it first).

“I’ll just be a second!” You shouted over the thumping music, closing the door behind them.

You took care of business and spent a brief minute checking your phone. You had two texts from Johnny, and when you opened them, your breath caught in your throat.

Mo Chridhe: open this when youre alone thief

Mo Chridhe: blacksuit.jpg

Johnny had sent you a mirror selfie of his outfit, and he looked stunning. You couldn’t believe it was him. You’d never seen him so dressed up. His hair was shaven on the sides, the mohawk back to its full potential, and his suit was a gorgeous black with velvet lapels and a gold chain between the button holes. He wore no tie, instead letting the first two buttons hang open rakishly, showing off his tanned chest.

You texted him back:

You: you are still so damn hot lol

Mo Chridhe: show me you

You obeyed, taking a racy selfie in the bathroom mirror just like he had done. You showed off your cleavage , and the short, high cut of the dress as it hugged your ass. You tried your best to be pouty, just like all the Instagram models, but you weren’t sure if you succeeded.

Mo Chridhe: i might be the luckiest cunt alive or im dreamin

You: lol ;)

Mo Chridhe: ham might be chasin pidge all night but ill be chasin you

You smiled down at your phone before closing the app and returning to the fray.

Glittered, glammed, and ready for a night of debauchery, you took your phone off its charger and made your way out into the cold evening air. Pidge had brought a jacket, but Cherise had decided to go without, claiming that hot girls didn’t get cold. You were definitely cold, so you wondered what that implied.

The first stop was The Variety Bar. You had texted Johnny and told him to warn you before their first bar choice so that you could pay the tab and bolt before Hamish could put his hands on Pidge. But, it didn’t really work out like that. You had all ended up as one big group, and spent most of the time jokingly keeping them from kissing each other. Price held up a wet coaster between their mouths which sent Pidge coughing and spitting, causing enough of a ruckus that you decided to move to the next spot.

Johnny sat with you at the bar while you paid, trying his best to keep his hands off of you.

“Lookin’ like a right goddess tonight, you are.”

“Stop it,” you smiled, “No flirting allowed while your sister is literally right behind us.”

“Och,” he shook his head, “She’s in her own wee world. Where to next, lass?”

You slid the check back to the bartender and thanked him, turning to Johnny and smirking triumphantly, knowing he still needed to pay before he could follow you,

“Don’t you hunt people for a living? Come and get me.”

You left him at the bar, frozen with a delightful look of surprise on his face. You found Pidge and the other girls outside.

“Alright,” you smiled, “Onward. Let’s head over to Max’s.”

“Oh, God,” Anjali sighed, “You really want her to blackout, huh?”

“Fuck it! Max’s it is, ladies!” Pidge screamed.

Everyone cheered and marched on after her. She cuddled into your arm as you walked,

“Thank you so much for this, babes. You’re the best friend a girl could ask for, you know that?”

“You are, too,” you kissed her on her temple and squeezed her arm a bit tighter.

By the time you’d had two drinks at Max’s, Hamish’s clan found you again. Gaz was the one who spotted you through the window, holding his hands up to the glass and pointing you out.

“Uh oh,” you smiled, “Last call, girls.”

Cherise laughed,

“I don’t know why we’re running. Might as well just party with them.”

“It’s tradition, right?” Bekah rolled her eyes.

“Well,” Pidge shrugged, “You all can wait here then, if you prefer the boys to me.”

“No! Pidge, that’s not it, babe,” Cherise protested.

Pidge drunkenly waved her off,

“It’s fine, no worries. See you at Berkeley’s. How about that?”

Pidge stormed off out the door, and you followed behind trying to get her to calm down. She eventually did, drinking the water you had bought for her. But, that was how the group got split. Half the boys ended up with you and Pidge and Anjali, and the other half waited at Max’s until the happy hour rounds were over.

You’d gotten all settled in at Berkeley, listening to the loud club music, letting the high of your buzz wash over you, trying not to think about how nice it would be to have Johnny here, dancing with you like he promised.

Then, Pidge realized she forgot her jacket, so she sent you back to the other bar. You left her with Gaz and Ghost, and Price wandered out into the street with you.

“‘Bout time Hamish finally caught his hen anyway,” you speculated as you walked with him.

“Aye,” he agreed, “And maybe your stag as well.”

Your eyes darted up to him and then checked over your shoulder, just to make sure Pidge wasn’t behind you.

Price continued,

“Are you sure keepin’ him a secret is the right thing? He’s dyin’ to tell her. Fuck, he was tellin’ people he didn’t even know about you.”

You smiled,

“Yeah, I know. I just want the wedding to be about her. Nothing is ever about her, you know? She deserves to have a day where she doesn’t need to consider other people’s feelings for once.”

“What about your feelings?” Price asked.

You didn’t answer him. You just shrugged and kept walking. Suddenly, you heard screaming behind you,

“Wait! Wait up!”

Pidge and the rest of the crew rushed over to you and Price.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“We’re gonna surprise Hamish this time,” Pidge smiled, pulling out a big confetti popper from her purse.

“Oh, God,” you grinned, looping your arm through hers and dragging her along.

Nothing was going according to plan that night, but you were so tired that it was hard for you to care. You weren’t even sure if Hamish’s group was still at the other bar, and you hadn’t heard a thing from Bekah or Cherise.

Finally, you made it back to Max’s. Just as you were about to open the door, it burst open and out poured Johnny, tangled in Bekah’s arms. She was giggling and kissing his cheek, leaving streaks of purple lipstick all over his freshly shaven skin. He was holding her close to him, his fingers digging into her side so tightly.

You knew what that felt like.

You gasped, stepping back, stunned. He looked right into your eyes and stopped. The whole world came to a grinding halt. All of the time that you had spent together seemed to lay out in front of you, prostrating itself, and being found unworthy. You felt nothing. Just a creeping numbness that leaked into your core, a fire burning without kindling, unable to be extinguished.

“Och, Jesus and all the fuckin’ saints,” Pidge threw her hands up, “Couldnae even wait until after the party to get your hands into one of my mates, could you? Arsehole. Get outta the way.”

“No, tha’s not it, Pidge!” He frowned, “Bekah doesnae —”

“Bekah, what?” Pidge spat in his face, “Bekah doesnae care that you’ll turn up next month or next year or next week in a box with the wee Scottish flag draped over it? Okay. Now, move yourself from the door, Jonathan.”

Bekah was sort of octopusing herself around him, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, sucking on his earlobe, caring very little about the Scottish flag no matter where it was draped.

Johnny was trying to fight her off now, suddenly angry at Pidge,

“What did you just say to me, Brigette?”

“Oh, shut up! You’re just like your da, and you’ll end up dead like him, too. See?” Pidge turned to you suddenly, eyes wild with fury, “This is why I warned you, Johnny MacTavish is a fuckin’ widowmaker. And that’s all he’ll ever be.”

She finally made it around her brother and wrenched the door open, disappearing into the club. Johnny still had Bekah in his arms, and you couldn’t be there anymore. You turned and walked in the direction of your apartment, miles away but hell-bent on getting back there.

“Hey! Wait! Thief, please. This isn’t what it looks like,” his voice was cold and distant. You didn’t turn around to listen. You weren’t sure what it looked like, but you didn’t need to see it to know how it felt.

Johnny could have Bekah. He was allowed to have her. He was not allowed to have you, and you couldn’t have him. That much was clear now. You should’ve listened to your friend. You’d known all along, hadn’t you?

“Wait, mèirleach!”

You spun on him like a snake, striking out sure and true,

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

He could see in your eyes that you were serious, venomous as you were in your delivery. His eyes looked desperate, like a kicked dog, but he didn’t let her go. She smiled and waved at you, looking drunker than you’d ever seen anyone look. You tasted the bile in your mouth from your disgust.

Price jogged to keep up with you, and he grabbed your arm,

“Wait, girl. Just wait a second.”

You jerked your hand away and hailed a cab that was pulled over on your side of the street. You climbed in and shut the door, begging the cabbie to drive quickly, and he did. You stared out the window, watching all of the lights blind you as they seared into your eyes, burning the images you’d seen that night brightly into your memory.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Chapter 09

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove (part five)

Leon Kennedy x female reader - the slowest, slow burn I swear Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

You try your best to focus on show on the television – watching them take down a non-load bearing wall with sledgehammers in a somewhat poor technique - but you really wish you had your phone. This would be a perfect time for mindless scrolling through various feeds, rather than thinking of the handsome agent you’d just taken a nap on, apparently. You wonder if anyone’s texted you, tried to call only to be met with an automated voicemail message... unless the DSO have managed to get your phone to power on, teasing a few rings before they’re asked to leave a message.

You have friends to make plans with, of course you do, but the majority are spread country-wide now, have been for years since you finished college, so it’s not going to be strange if you haven’t replied to anyone for over 24 hours… No boyfriend to fret over your whereabouts either, your last relationship too long ago for any hurt feelings to remain.

And it’s definitely for the best that you don’t have any parents who will worry when you don’t check in.

Your mind drifts back to Leon. How long could this thing last? Say when they clear you – you can’t bear to think of the alternative of being accused of a BOW crime, you’d never see the light of day again, your name buried in a file never to be released - how long will it take to work out if your life is or remains in danger, and would he stay with you the entire time? Surely he has his own life to get on with, other responsibilities to the DSO than just a babysitter, probably got a partner at home too, though there was no ring that you saw. Probably wouldn’t wear one as an agent though, gives away too much about a personal life.

Besides, there were so many people in your office, would they really know if one person made it out alive? It’s not like you had seen anything of real value, or knew anything about the assailants, besides that they were murderous creatures… or so you thought. You deal with a lot of cases, is it possible that one of them traced the operation back and sought revenge?

If the painkillers hadn’t been wearing off, aches awakening in various parts of your body, you might’ve started pacing around the room for something else to do. This place could do with a bookshelf, you reason, or maybe people aren’t here long enough to read books? There was a pile of books on your night-stand, all in hopes of being read, which just reminds you that Hunnigan said they were going to send people to search your apartment. What for – a to-do list stuck to the fridge with a magnet with a singular bullet point of ‘betray US Government’?

She said there’d been a data breach too, so did someone let loose those things as a deadly distraction to get what they came for? And surely there was a back-up in a cloud or something. You hadn’t been privy to that side of the operation and if you’d started asking questions at any point, it would’ve looked suspicious.

No, you were just a good little intelligence agent, you clocked in and out on time, dutifully noting down observations, connecting the dots all day long, just wanted to make the world a little safer for everyone, but failed miserably at doing so for the people in your office.

And those things…

Are they what you’ve been working against all this time?

You shudder as you swear you can feel the way the its wet tongue wrapped around your arm, warm saliva against the prickly goosebumps on your skin in a firm grip, its teeth, the lack of eyes, how its body looked almost inside out, muscles and sinew…

You increase the volume on the television, praying the noise cancels out your thoughts and that Leon comes back inside soon.

--

Leon finishes his perimeter check once again in an even 25, satisfied there’s been no unwanted guests since his last round and confirming what he’d seen via the camera feeds. It’s coming up to 1700 now - he’ll need to make some sort of dinner for you to take your meds with, so realistically his 2000 self-imposed deadline for submitting his report to Hunnigan is not happening. He can throw them together pretty quickly– experienced agent that he is – but he knows his limits. Doesn’t exactly want to rush this, especially when he hopes it’s going to clear your name. He takes out his phone and types out a text.

Need to revise my report ETA. Midnight do?

He expects Hunnigan’s caller ID to flash up as soon as she’ll have read his text, but there’s nothing. Huh – must be wrapped up in something else. He repeats his whole garage routine, eyeing up the duffel bag he’d dumped on top of the dryer when he’d came out and sighs.

He's been in safe houses before - wasn't lying about that - just not with such pleasant company, nor anyone who really deserved it so far. His track run has always been Umbrella scientists who have suddenly developed a conscience, pleading for protection and a lenient jail sentence in return for information on the corporation, or other people involved in the production of BOWs. He's certainly not made the likes of them oatmeal in the morning, drizzled a smiley face in honey – what was he thinking, again? - lunch and dinner, washed and dried dishes, helped them changed, tucked them up in bed. Hell, one guy he’d made sleep on the floor cos he was such a jerk. They’d been sent to a studio apartment of all things and Leon had happily set himself up in the bed, dumping his duffel bag of weapons across the bedspread and sat there cleaning them all methodically, checking cartridges and glaring at the man he deemed a worthless piece of shit who was sat on the two-seater sofa, sweating buckets.

He picks up the duffel bag and moves to unlock the door. Once he's submitted the report and Hunnigan's searched your place, then he'll be able to drop a couple of the rules and…

And what, Kennedy? He scolds himself. Wishes he’d crossed paths with you at DSO HQ before on a day he was feeling confident enough to shoot his shot with a drinks and dinner invitation. Hunnigan’s right from this morning – he’s grown sweet on you particularly fast, but that’s something he’s managed to retain from his younger years, too easily a lovesick puppy for any woman who will entertain it, even after everything with Ada. But it’s a little different with you, just the way he recognizes that look in your eyes, the very one of guilt, disbelief and horror that he had when he looked in the mirror after getting out of Raccoon City and every mission since. 

He finally heads back inside, locking the door back up securely again. You don’t look to have moved from your position on the sofa, still looking at the television but the volume’s increased - he’s sure if he were to ask about what was happening you wouldn’t have a clue. It’s only the day after, you’ll still be trying to process everything, all whilst being locked up in a safe house with a near enough stranger and away from all your home comforts.

He places down the duffel bag carefully in its usual position before slowing walking over, making sure his steps are a little heavier than usual, aware that you might be too wrapped up in your own thoughts to have heard him re-enter and he really doesn’t wanna make you jump, very aware of how on edge you’re still going to be.

Once he’s sure he’s in your peripheral vision, he waves – smooth, Kennedy – know he’s got a goofy-looking smile on his face as he drops his arm back to his side. “Er… I’m back.”

“Hi,” you can’t help but smile back at his awkward little half-wave. “Everything okay out there?”

“Yeah – all clear, as expected. You hungry? Thought I could whip up some dinner to go alongside your next dose of painkillers.”

“I think I could manage something.” Your appetite is still shy – managed half a sandwich at lunch and that was sitting a little heavy in your stomach, but you know that Leon’s not going to let you take medication again without some sort of food.

“Okay, lemme see what we’ve got.” He claps his hands together, heading back towards the kitchen. You wince a little as you turn in place to watch him rummage through the cupboards, trying to assemble a meal from what the DSO had packed up. About a moment or two later, he pops his head up above the counter. “How about pasta? I think I can put together a somewhat decent tomato sauce for it.”

“Pasta sounds good.” You get to your feet as he ducks his head back down, continues his rummage in the cupboards before placing various items out as he works it all out in his head. “I know I’m one-handed, but… can I do anything?”

He stands up then with a bag of pasta in hand, ready to protest when he takes another good look at you, standing awkwardly at the edge of the kitchen area, sees the tinge of frustration across your face about everything clear as day, obviously sick of the television for now and he can’t blame you - there’s nothing else to do here but sleep, eat and watch that.

“Yeah, actually,” he sweeps his hair out of his face and places down the pasta on the counter. “I think I can find something.”

20 minutes later, you’re stood at the hob, stirring Leon’s off-the-cuff tomato sauce – a can of chopped tomatoes, some peppers and herbs - to stop it from sticking to the bottom of the pot as the pasta bubbles away in another, all whilst he grates some cheese on the counter behind you. It’s the easiest job by far, you’re having to stir it oh so gently, lacking the other hand to hold the pot handle steady and you know it would probably be fine left alone to simmer, but it’s nice to feel like you’re contributing a little at last.

“How we doing over here?” Leon stands behind you, looks over your shoulder at his culinary creations.

“Okay, I think. It smells good.”

“Ah, trying to flatter the chef.” His watch beeps – a timer he’d set for the pasta. “Excuse me.”

You think he’s going to step forward to turn off the hob so you step back at the same time that he places a hand on your waist, thinking you were about to move off to the side. You bump into his chest – a reminder of how solid it had been when you’d taken that involuntarily nap on him earlier and Leon swallows down a nervous chuckle as your backside nestles for a moment against his crotch.

“Sorry, Dove, I-“

“Oh, sorry-“

The two of you apologise over each other, awkwardly, and you finally step to the side, Leon dropping his hand to swiftly turn the heat off the hob for both of the pots. “I… I think I’m good here – do you want to handle drinks?”

“Yeah, sure.” You duck your head down, swearing your face is now as red as the pasta sauce, and retrieve the glasses from the coffee table from earlier, refilling them with water from the kitchen tap and returning them back one by one, as Leon sets about draining the pasta and then combining the two.

You don’t sit yet and hang back, watching him dish up between two bowls before he slides on towards the end of the counter, followed by the plate of grated cheese. “Wanna do your own cheese too?”

“Yeah - thanks.” You walk forward and grab some of the cheese to sprinkle over the pasta. It feels nice to have some autonomy again, to be contributing in any sort of way and you think maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this awkwardness of the situation, even if it’s just through dinner…

Leon crouches down to open a cupboard and you hear him fiddle with the metal lockbox being unlocked as he retrieves your medication.

..maybe not.

---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day! Part six.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Rewatching Shadow and Bone so here are some of my favourite little details that I haven’t seen loads of people talk about (this is almost definitely just part 1 so stay tuned)

The bird cage in Heleen’s office

The masks on stalls in the Ketterdam streets, including Komedie Brute masks, what look like the Jackal masks, and what I believe might have been a sun summoner mask

The song that Ravkan soldiers in Mal’s unit sing whilst they march in s1e4 is the Kerch drinking song Nina sings for Inej on the boat in Six of Crows

Matthias’ hesitation before saying “I feel nothing for you” and Nina replying “then I guess that makes you good at your job” is SO reflective of Matthias’ realisation that Brum didn’t have to drown the good parts of himself to do terrible things the way Matthias always did; Matthias had grown to admire Brum for what he believed was the ability to silence the good in himself in order to do what “must be done” because he found that so difficult to do, and acknowledging that Brum didn’t find those things difficult the way he did was one of the most important moments of being able to separate himself from the Drüskelle beliefs and begin to understand that what he went through was actually abuse and what’s implied to be at least similar to Stockholm Syndrome (I’ve written at length about this and if I get going I’ll never stop, so if anyone wants to know more lemme know and I’ll tag you in my post about it)

“Pomdrakon Players”, the group the Crows join to infiltrate the Little Palace, references Ravkan desert “Pomdrakon” where you soak raisins in brandy then set them on fire and try to grab them in the dark that Nina tells Matthias about on the ice

This isn’t an observation I just thought you’d all like to know that when I was watching the map room scene in episode 4 every time Alina said ‘Aleksander’ I repeated her in a stupid voice, which was really unfair to Alina because she doesn’t know but it was a genuine reaction and I stand by it because screw the Darkling

The comment that the Fjerdans don’t mark ash tress because they’re scared, I love that. I wonder if they pray when they mark trees, like they do when they cut them down? I personally got the impression that all trees were precious but ash trees were sacred when I read the book

The valve to turn out the lights in the Royal Archives Heist because all the lighting is gas powered!! Like I know this probably was just a thing we knew without really thinking about but it’s also really cool in that it reminds us about the class difference between the Crows and the others since, at least in the books, gas lighting isn’t as common to the Barrel as candles and bone lights are but is implied to be more common among the Merchants

Also not an observation but “you’re the quarter master, aren’t you?” “Yep” *wallop* will never not be hilarious and iconic

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the costume department for this show were goddamn miracle performers thank you for your service. I’ve banged on about the symbolism in the costumes before so I won’t now, but I have really only talked about s2 so I guess if you want more I could talk about s1

“No guns” *walking past Jesper* “no knives” *walking past Inej* “no weapons of any kind” *wait where’s Kaz* will always be fabulous

I genuinely have no idea how they did the Tailoring on Alina’s hair when Genya first does it for her but it is incredible like I don’t know exactly what changed but it just… I don’t know, it’s amazing

[wheres-mylove]

my heart, truly yours | nikolai lantsov x fem!reader

Summary: They were never meant to have a future together. Nikolai’s responsibilty draws him away from the love of his life.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my first language!

Word count: 0.5k, short little angsty baby 

It was honestly a shame that a Heartrender, a woman who held such power over other people’s hearts, was never going to be able to gain power over her own. It belonged to someone else. Nikolai Lantsov could bend it to his will, break it, toss it away. And she was helpless. Because no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t rip the longing feeling from the depth of her soul.

She used to be certain that she had known her place very well. A Grisha. Not a royalty. Baghra would definitely call her a stupid, stupid girl now. And she deserved that title. The stupid little girl who let a prince conquer her heart.

He could kiss and cherish her when his hair was bright red. Those were the times for being reckless. For allowing your feelings to guide you.

And now she was attending the engagement party of the man she loved. But she wasn’t betrothed to him. Alina Starkov was.

“Someone’s looking a bit pale. Aren’t you delighted that our beloved prince is going to marry the famous Sun Summoner?” a voice sneered behind her back. Vasily Lantsov. Always so sweet.

“Of course I am, moi tsarevich. How could I not be? It’s a great day for Ravka,” she managed to choke out, twirling the glass filled with champagne in her hand.

“Interesting,” he commented, smirking in a way that made her sick. “Everyone knows, darling. And everyone in this room is pitying you.”

She took a deep breath to compose herself. Talking back wasn’t an option. Giving him a heart attack neither. So she remained silent.

Vasily scoffed and left her in the middle of the crowd. She was searching for a familiar face of Mal Oretsev, but she couldn’t find him among the guests. The one person who could understand her pain. Maybe he was a bit wiser than her, and saved himself the trouble of showing up. Smart boy.

Nikolai asked her to come there. Not very considerate of him.

The door opened, revealing a Lantsov prince and the most famous Grisha in the world by his side. They slowly entered, hand in hand.

Oh, dear heart. This palace was never a good place for you. Now you are being walked on. Broken with such ease. But still his to break.

Nikolai locked eyes with her. Glossy eyes. The ones she gazed into many times. Filled with love. And pleading for forgiveness.

She silently begged him to look away. To pretend not to know her. Royal court is observant. And he’s acting scandalous.

Alina seemed to notice, giving him a subtle reprimand. She thanks her for it by nodding her head. Starkov’s eyes were suddenly asking for forgiveness as well.

Heartrender couldn’t blame the girl on his arm. She could only blame herself for allowing Nikolai Lantsov to get so dangerously close.

In the chaos that came next, he was screaming her name. Praying in a frantic way to all known Saints. Keep her safe. Nikolai’s heart prayed for it.

Not a king’s heart. A lover’s heart. The one that always belonged to her.